Back to Top


There’s a new film coming out called Tristam Shandy: A Cock And Bull Story, which “attempts to shoot the adaptation of Laurence Sterne‘s essentially unfilmable novel, The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman.” Tristam Shandy, if you’ve never read it, is a brilliant, frustrating, hysterical deconstructed novel written in the eighteenth century. It is a totally modern novel, despite being written almost 300 years ago, and Sterne’s ability to play with language and go off on tangents is comparable to twentieth-century masters such as Joyce and Pynchon.

But I’m not hear to blab about the Modern Novel, although at a more erudite time, I probably would be. As I was thinking about the Tristam Shandy movie, and how funny–and oddly true to the book’s spirit–it sounded, I was thinking about other books I read that were “classic” works of literature, and how the movies (with the clear exception of Jane Austen) just don’t evoke the same feel. And let me say there’s nothing I like more than a good–or bad–historical movie. Now, here’s where you can start wracking your brain to find more exceptions on the good side of the equation (Oh, the 1973 Three Musketeers springs to mind, actually–but Dumas was a better storyteller than a writer). Thackeray‘s Vanity Fair toned down the single-minded ruthlessness of Becky Sharpe; Thackeray’s Barry Lyndon was beautiful, but s-l-o-o-w. Henry Fielding‘s Tom Jones did a pretty good job, but lost some of the nuanced jibes that made the book’s narrative so biting (and Fielding was a darn good storyteller, too).
There have been a few versions of Wuthering Heights, all of which spotlight the oftentimes ridiculous melodrama of Emily Bronte’s prose, but miss the poignant heartbreak and longing of your first crush/obsession. Jonathan Swift‘s Gulliver’s Travels totally missed the scathing satire. There’s also Jane Eyre, A Christmas Carol, the many incarnations of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Laclos’ Dangerous Liaisons (and its wimpy younger brother, Valmont)

(Caveat: Of course there are the A&E/BBC/Other Initialed creations, but they have more than two or three hours to get the job done, so they can stick to the book better.)

Of books that haven’t yet been made into films, I’d suggest Francois RabelaisGargantua And Pantagruel, a brilliant, bawdy, grotesque, sophmoric, clever book. I also think it’d be fun to read some of those ‘horrid novels’ Regency heroines (and sometimes heroes) are always reading (and sometimes writing) and see if any of those would make fun films.

So here’s where the class participation comes in: What movies have done a good job at bringing a classic novel to life? And what classic books would you like to see made into movies that haven’t been already?

Thanks for recommending some more for my film queue,

Megan
www.meganframpton.com


The big day–his 250th–is actually tomorrow, but I volunteered, although posting so late in the day it’s already 27th in Vienna.

Well, what can you say about Mozart that hasn’t been said, much better? Here’s Tim Page in last Sunday’s Washington Post:

It is now 250 years since Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born in Salzburg, Austria — and some 245 years since this prodigy among prodigies fashioned his first little pieces for keyboard under the helpful eye of his father, Leopold. The world has changed radically since 1756 but Mozart remains a constant — we continue to regard the mixture of clarity, grace and formal balance in his music with undiminished awe. He seems to have been incapable of vulgarity or overstatement: In his mature works, there is hardly a wasted gesture or a note out of place. And yet it all seems so effortless, so absolutely spontaneous.
Indeed, because Mozart’s music is so flowing, direct and eloquent, many listeners think it must be easy to perform. Nothing could be further from the truth. Although almost any third-year piano student can read through the Mozart sonatas, it is a different matter entirely to play them well . Many other composers demand more in terms of muscle, pyrotechnics and flashy virtuosity, but there is an extraordinary transparency to Mozart’s music, and any imbalance, no matter how slight, is glaringly obvious. As such, the interpretation of Mozart remains one of the supreme tests of any great musician.


Rather than rave about my favorite Mozart recordings/works (oh, okay. For the record, off the top of my head: Mitsuko Uchida playing the sonatas, Richard Goode and the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra playing the piano concertos, the Skittles Trio, the quintets, the Dissonance quartet, the piano quartets, the Requiem, the wind serenades, the Prague Symphony [38]–you know it’s time to stop when you’re in double parentheses)–I thought I’d actually try and relate this to the regency period. And this is actually a follow on from my last post on pianos–how they were used to bring orchestral music into the home.

I knew this happened later on in the century, with Liszt’s famous transcriptions of Wagner, for instance, but I was amazed to find how much material dated from our period, published in London, based on Mozart’s operas. I looked up music inspired by Don Giovanni, my favorite Mozart opera (I think, or is it The Magic Flute?) and found a website at the University of Southampton, England devoted to research on Mozart performances during the nineteenth century. And, not surprisingly, the majority of pieces are for piano, or piano four-hands, with flute and piano and flute duets coming in next. I have no idea who most of the arrangers were, and some were anonymous–Clementi (a music publisher as well as a composer and piano builder) was the only one I recognized. There were lots of arrangements of the overture (including one for harp and piano) and the big tunes, like the minuet from the final act, as you’d expect. C. von Boigelet, whoever he was, managed to concoct twelve gavottes from the opera. In 1809, The Royal Musical Magazine published an arrangement of Batti, batti (surely one of the most un-PC arias ever written) for piano four-hands.

And in our own time there’s the movie Amadeus, a very fictional account of the rivalry between Mozart and Salieri, but eminently watchable.

Any other Mozart faves or facts you’d like to share?

When I was putting together last week’s post on best and worst Regency dress fashions, I also ran across many…um…inspiring images of headgear. As with the dresses, some were gorgeous and flattering (just what we like to see on a proper Regency heroine) and some were downright ridiculous (let’s save them for comic villainesses, please!)

Some of my favorites:

Best #1 (upper left): 1810, from Ackermann’s. This style was called a “cottage hat”. I think it’s nice and simple and just the thing to go with the elegant dresses of the time. It also strikes me as a bit 1920’s ish, but I’m no expert on that.

Best #2 (right): 1811, also from Ackermann’s. For me, this is the right way to use flowers. Not too many (even though it does look rather as if she has a bee in her bonnet!) and the asymmetry is cute.

Best #3 (left): A gypsy hat, popular for country wear throughout the early 19th century. Nice and casual and, in the days before SPF 45, good protection for that delicate skin. I also saw a portrait of a somewhat older woman wearing one of these, and it looked great on her, too.

Best #4 (right): Gilmore’s portrait of Sarah Reeve Ladson, 1823. Turbans often look ridiculous to me, but this one struck me as kinda cool, exotic, maybe a bit Byronic. Not everyone could pull this off, but if you have this sort of sultry dark coloring, I think it works.

Now for the sublimely ridiculous…

Granted, some of these are caricatures of contemporary styles, but they give us an idea of the results of a trend gone wild!

Worst #1: “Lady Godina’s Rout — or — Peeping-Tom spying out Pope-Joan. Vide Fashionable Modesty”, a March 12th 1796 caricature by Gillray. OK, this one speaks volumes on its own. But I’ll add that feathers do appear to have their use as a hiding-place. Also, perhaps, to balance out wide hips????

Worst #2 (right): French satire on the poke bonnet (“Invisible”); No. 16 in the series of engravings, “Le Suprême Bon Ton” from the second half of the 1810’s. More proof that outrageous millinery has its uses. Any guesses as to what they’re actually doing in there? But of course, these people are French. Need I say more?

Worst #3 (left): 1810 turban. I’m rather surprised she can stand upright under that thing. Looks like she’s wearing a miniature beanbag chair on her head, and the feathers look like they came from an anemic rooster. If you’re going to wear dead bird feathers on your head, at least invest in some good peacock or pheasant!

Worst #4: 1817, The Lady’s Magazine. Everything I’ve heard about carriages of the time indicates they were rather small. Did the lady wearing this have to crawl in on hands and knees? Just think about what she might have exposed in doing so! OTOH maybe this is a style adopted by petite women in a vain attempt to look taller. You’re not fooling anyone, dears, just embrace who you really are!

Worst #5: 1818, from La Belle Assemblée. These bonnets trimmed with a profusion of flowers and/or fruit make me wonder. Imagine you’re wearing the latter out for a drive with a rakish gentleman, and then unexpected weather drives you to seek shelter in some secluded cottage or barn (of course that never happens in novels!). Perhaps you could disassemble and eat it.

Actually, I have to admit this last one is kinda fun, the sort of thing that would be a blast to wear to a costume party, for laughs. I think it would be fun to wear a turban sometime, too, though most of them seem a bit . . . dowagerish. For now, I’d rather see myself as a stylish matron.

So, Riskies and dear guests, which hats do you like, or think you would most enjoy wearing?

Elena
LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE, RT Reviewers’ Choice Award nominee
www.elenagreene.com

 
(Amanda is putting on her Laurel McKee hat—which is probably a black fascinator with a red rose and some feathers—to launch her new book One Naughty Night, book one in the Scandalous St. Claires series! Comment for a chance to win a signed copy…but if you don’t win, it’s available in ebook for the promo price of 2.99 from June 4 to July 2!!)
Under the cover of night…nothing is forbidden…
Lily St. Claire will do anything for the family that saved her from the streets.  With their support, the young widow has become the hostess of The Devil’s Fancy, London’s most exclusive gaming den.  She’s determined to restore the St. Claire family fortune, lost a century before to the despised Huntington clan.  But a ghost from her past may be her ultimate undoing…
The son a a duke, Lord Aidan Huntington is handsome and wealthy, with a taste for adventure and a reputation for wickedness.  A gambler and a rake, Aidan can’t resist a seductive woman with secrets–but one naughty night with Lily leaves him wanting more.  As Lily is drawn into London’s dark underworld by an old enemy, Aidan will risk everything to save the woman who has awakened his deepest desires…
After I finished writing about Georgian Ireland in my “Daughters of Erin” trilogy, I wanted to do something very different for my next project. So I turned to my very earliest historical love—Victorian England!
In this intriguing first St. Claire romance, McKee introduces a delightfully down-to-earth heroine…readers will cheer Lily in her quest for happiness and look forward to the sequels –Publishers Weekly
It all started when I was about ten years old and I came across a battered copy of Jane Eyre on my parents’ bookshelf. I think they used it for a college class or something, but after reading the first page I was totally hooked into Jane’s world. (Though I was deeply shocked—spoiler alert!–Bertha in the attic. I had to go back and read the whole book again just to be sure). After reading it three times, I ran out and and found a pile of other Victorian novels, like Dickens and Gaskell (though I admit I was too young at the time for Wuthering Heights. I hated it then, but I have a deep appreciation for its uniqueness now), I also read non-fiction about Queen Victoria and her world. But then I moved on to other historical loves, like the Regency and Tudor England, and never tried a Victorian-set novel of my own.
Until a couple of years ago, when I watched the movie Young Victoria and fell in love with the costumes. I confess—it was clothes, and the fact that I’ve always loved a “family feud” story, that led me to this story, and to Lily and Aidan and their families, the ducal Huntingtons and the underworld St. Claires.
I am completely in love with the St. Claire and Huntington families. Not only did this first book in a new series by Laurel McKee have me thoroughly enjoying the story between Lily and Aidan, I was just as drawn into both their families and the supporting characters who were involved just enough to add interest to their own stories that will be coming up in the series. But, this was Lily and Aidan’s story and I enjoyed everything about it, from the suspense coming from a man from Lily’s past to her and Aidan’s naughtiness in the bedroom.  –Happily Ever After Reviews
When I was younger I had a fantasy vision of what Victorian life was like, but for this book I wanted to delve deeper and give a more realistic picture (especially of Lily’s Dickensian childhood before she was adopted by the St. Claires). The sixty years of Victoria’s reign marked an enormous shift in society and the way the world worked. The way people traveled, shopped, dealt with illness, childbirth, and death, even the way they dressed and read, were very different from what came before. There was gaslight and then electricity, railroads, factories, the world of the arts (the theater was booming, as were the visual and decorative arts, and novels by authors like the Brontes and Dickens were sensations), the rise of the middle classes, and the expansion of the British Empire into every corner of the globe. All led by a woman who was the very image of domestic responsibility, unlike her uncles.
But it was also a time of vast social differences, a new emphasis on the appearance of respectability, and a whole hidden underworld of dark activities like drug use, prostitution, and pornography. The contrast between what really was and what things appeared to be was wider than ever before. I loved incorporating all these aspects of Victorian life into Lily and Aidan’s story!
For and excerpt and more info, visit my website! And if you would like to read more about the period yourself, here are just a few sources I found helpful…
Donald Thomas, The Victorian Underworld(1998)
Jennifer Hall-Witt, Fashionable Acts: Opera and Elite Culture in London, 1780-1880 (2007) (It was Elena who recommended this book, which is fascinating!)
Michael Mason, The Making of Victorian Sexuality(1994)
Suzanne Fagence Cooper, The Victorian Woman(2001)
JJ Tobias, Crime and Police in England, 1700-1900(1979)
Sally Mitchell, Daily Life in Victorian England(2009)
FML Thompson, The Rise of Respectable Society, 1800-1900(1988)
What do you love about Victorian England?? Comment for a chance to win a copy!
Follow
Get every new post delivered to your inbox
Join millions of other followers
Powered By WPFruits.com