#Two EM Forster works in two days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hbcsource · 1 year

Photo

HELENA BONHAM CARTER IN CONVERSATION WITH SIMON CALLOW | THE LONDON LIBRARY MAGAZINE | APRIL 2023 Helena Bonham Carter was joined by the writer and fellow actor Simon Callow at home this spring to discuss her new role: Library President. The two are longtime members and met filming the 1985 EM Forster adaptation A Room With a View. Bonham Carter was 19. It was the first of many Merchant Ivory productions for her, including Maurice and Howards End, before Hollywood called, with a role as the suicidal love interest in David Fincher's Fight Club. Work with her former husband, Tim Burton, came next, as well as a contribution to the Harry Potter franchise and more. Callow's acting career includes stage roles in Shakespeare, Beckett, pantomime and contemporary theatre and beloved British films such as Four Weddings and a Funeral. He is a biographer of Oscar Wilde and Orson Welles and a renowned Dickens expert. This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity. HELENA BONHAM CARTER: Simon, it's very nice to see you here. Welcome to my Presidential home! I'm not having a clever day - do you find that, or are you always clever? SIMON CALLOW: Always. But I think I might be daunted by being the President of The London Library. Such a wonderful title, such a wonderful entity. HELENA: I love the title. The older I get, the more I like having conversations with dead people - for instance my dad, who made me a member when I was 21. For the Library to then ask me to be President... SIMON: Fantastic. HELENA : I used the Library a lot then, which was also when I first met you. I was sort of roaming and feeling lost, having a great time filming but feeling out of my depth everywhere. My peer group had gone to uni, and I was suddenly just on my own path and really unequipped to deal with it. I had a massive chip on my shoulder. So The London Library was my college. I felt legitimate, and I thought I could wander in and dress up like Virginia Woolf. SIMON: It's like going right back to the source, isn't it? There it all is, and there they were. HELENA: There they were! It's not only a conversation with my dead dad, but a conversation with EM Forster. If it was not for him, we wouldn't be here. SIMON: A Room With A View is my favourite film of all the films I've been in, and I'm still astonished by its freshness. HELENA: It still works. SIMON: It really does. It was my second film and I was incredibly relieved - I'd been in Amadeus and detested every second. When I got the script [for A Room With A View] Ismail [Merchant, the producer] said to me: "We want you to play the leading part!" So I thought, "This is great, he sees me as George. I'll go on a diet immediately." Then my agent discovered I was in fact playing the Reverend Beebe. And I thought, "No, outright no." I was terribly hurt. HELENA: And totally miscast. SIMON: Beebe's the fat old parson; I can't possibly play him. Finally I gave in to discover that suddenly I was with the aristocracy of British film and theatre: Maggie [Smith], Judi [Dench] and Fabia Drake, no less. And you. Who was completely new. HELENA: I was a foetus. SIMON: What I remember about you then was the incredible speed with which you spoke. HELENA: Oh, seriously? That's like my daughter. SIMON: You would change tack in the middle of a sentence and contradict yourself. HELENA: I don't think that's changed. I'm interested that I spoke at all. I remember myself as a mute, a total mouse, and so in awe of everyone. I was aware that you were a writer and talking about Mozart a lot, so I thought, "He's the Renaissance man that I have to become." Also, without being too indiscreet, you were one of the kinder adults. SIMON: Fabia was an absolute holy terror. What was great was to be working on a script drawn from such a wonderful novel. Ruth [Prawer Jhabvala, who adapted the original novel for the film] incomparably excelled at weaving the words from the novel into a real script, so that these were really people talking to each other. My favourite scene in any movie I've acted in is our scene at the piano. HELENA: It was the most important scene. You, as Mr Beebe, caught Lucy [Honeychurch, my character] playing in private. He's so tender and I love that. "If only you knew how to live as you play." SIMON: Beebe, certainly as written by Ruth - less so by Forster actually - is essentially benevolent. I remember the first read through, in London somewhere? HELENA: I was terrified. Maybe it was the first time I read with Maggie and Judi. SIMON: Maggie terrified me by saying, "Why are you calling him 'Beebe'? It has to be 'Bee-be'. Beebe sounds as if we're at the Beeb!" Were you always a great reader of novels? HELENA: Quite a good reader, though I was slow. I was taught at English A Level by Penelope Fitzgerald. SIMON: I knew and loved her. Was she a good teacher? HELENA: Extraordinary. Did you ever read Offshore? I love that. But I thought it would be good to look as if I read, because then every heroine in every book or film was a reader or writer. I wanted to be Judy Davis in My Brilliant Career. It was probably quite healthy, instead of fixating on a physique, which is what most people do these days because of Instagram. I wasn't very sexual for a long time. SIMON: You were wearing lots of clothes. HELENA: So many clothes. SIMON: One couldn't even begin to guess what the woman beneath would be. HELENA: No, there wasn't a body. SIMON: It was extraordinary, you were a sort of Oxfam shop on two legs. HELENA: I don't know where that came from. I think I had a real complex. Maybe because I was in such a male world. I went to Westminster [School], which was all boys, so before I even walked into period movies, I was dressed as a Victorian. It was always about pretending to be in the past. I over romanticised or felt I belonged in the past, actually. SIMON: The biggest relationships in my young life were with my grandmothers. I asked one to make me an 18th-century costume for a Christmas present. HELENA: Oh, I love that. So you dressed up as Mozart? SIMON: In effect. I loved the fabrics, the shimmer of it all. HELENA: On Maurice [1987] I did hair and makeup for all the men, which was rather a good way of dating people. It was Tinder then. In terms of influence, how important were your parents? SIMON: The only one of my family that read novels was my grandmother, though she never talked about them. A book can be just for you. You have a relationship with the characters and have somehow subsumed them into your psyche. HELENA: I always feel like you want to share the wonder. SIMON: Your family are very literary, aren't they? HELENA: Well, my grandmother Violet definitely was, on my dad's side. She was [Prime Minister H H] Asquith's daughter [and president of the Liberal Party from 1945-47]. My maternal grandmother was a special character, but found it difficult to read. I think she would have been diagnosed as dyslexic now, but she wrote beautifully. My mum, her whole life has never been without several books. My dad developed cortical blindness, which meant he couldn't see faces, but could read, so he read his way through the last 24 years of his life. We had half of The London Library in our home because they'd send him books. SIMON: Oh, fantastic. HELENA: Violet was formidable and wrote a lot of letters. I came back from filming with Woody Allen in a monastery in Taormina, and Dad was editing them. There was a postcard to her husband in 1940 saying: "Have just finished Morgan's latest Howards End." She knew Edward Morgan Forster. When I came to film Howards End with you, I read Violet's [unfinished] autobiography and thought, "Oh god, she was basically like the Helen Schlegel character, a sort of radical bohemian, a bluestocking..." And would have been the same age. So maybe she was a bit of a model for Helen. SIMON: Forster wasn't a recluse until later at King's College Cambridge, I think. HELENA: Did you ever get a sense of what he was like? SIMON: Everything in his life was the opposite of what he espoused: the passion, the connecting. This gives his work its force, because it didn't come easily to him. He had to struggle to make it happen. HELENA: He did have relationships though, didn't he? SIMON: Famously with a married policeman, Bob Buckingham. But also earlier, in Alexandria, and later, with a Bulgarian art collector, 45 years his junior. All very discreet. As a young gay man, I was impatient with him. Instead of thinking how extraordinary it was for its time, I just thought, "Come on, we've gone beyond all of this". It felt a bit spinsterly. Now I think it's passionate and unbelievably brave and exquisitely written. Then, I was more taken by DH Lawrence, which was all oceanic... My entire ambition was to be a writer. Do you write? HELENA: I've been asked to, and I've written the odd article. My attention span is troubling, but I do enjoy it when I apply myself. SIMON: I have to work very hard at it, and do terrifically long days. I can be at the laptop by seven. HELENA: In the morning? Jeez. OK, so you've got Morning Brain. SIMON: I've got a night brain, too. But no afternoon brain. HELENA: The afternoon is not really good for much. SIMON: Yes. I have difficulty in the theatre, rehearsing in the afternoon. HELENA: I have to have a snooze, no matter what. The snooze has been a pillar of my living. Do you ever write in books when you're reading them, or is that sacrilegious? SIMON: I do when I'm reviewing, but that's with proofs, so I can scrawl all over them. HELENA: I've got a thing about having a relationship with a book, so I will, unfortunately, write sentences in them. Also in the hope that somehow it's going to stick in the brain. SIMON: Let's talk about the Library - its location, for instance. St James's Square is enchanting. HELENA: Yes, and I do think that places work magic on us and influence what we think. It is very creative. Also, just silence. To go and sit with others with no danger of conversation, but you've got the company of other people concentrating. If you're going to seriously write, it could be very lonely. You have to go to battle with yourself, but it's alleviated at the Library because you're with other people who are going into battle with themselves. SIMON: Libraries generally have a very curious combination of this quietness and focus, coupled with a very sexy feeling. It's the silence. HELENA: I was going to raise that, but you start. SIMON: I wonder why that is exactly. It's just because everybody's in their own space and in their own world somehow, and you know that as you drift into that sort of semi hypnotic state, sex is going to be in there somewhere. HELENA: Yeah, it's always there. SIMON: So it's the subconscious. It's sort of milling around the Library. I think I said this before, it's like a book bordello. You just go up and take whatever you want to. HELENA: Have your pleasure. I like that. SIMON: The Library's postal service is also miraculous. And everyone's so sympathetic. Years ago, my dog acquired a passion for 17th-century literature; it turns out it was the fish glue used to bind the spines. One day I came home and there was a priceless volume in pieces all over the place. I offered to replace it somehow but the Librarian said: "I have dogs; I understand." HELENA: How do you use the Library? SIMON: Not for writing or reading. Just to borrow books. The collection of arcana is vast. Writing about Orson Welles, I needed to know what it was like to be a tourist in Morocco in 1930. The Library had six - six! - guides from the period. I don't know anywhere else I could have found that. I love clambering up the metal stairs and finding things that nobody's taken out for 100 years. HELENA: You think George Eliot is going to actually appear. SIMON: It still is enchanting to me to do that. HELENA: As a writer, do you have a ritual? SIMON: Procrastinate as long as possible. I was so relieved to discover that Ibsen could spend four hours rearranging his desk before starting to write. Unlike Dickens. HELENA: He just sat down? SIMON: He was always writing at least two things at once, sometimes more - he wrote the last of The Pickwick Papers and the first chapters of Nicholas Nickleby simultaneously. He worked it all out, I'm sure, on his long walks. HELENA: Have you seen his original manuscripts? SIMON: Almost illegible; you feel the heat of his creative energy. He talks about the characters dancing down the pen. HELENA: I love that - when somebody takes possession. SIMON: As with acting: when it's good, it's not you playing the character, it's the character playing you.

#helena bonham carter #simon callow #the london library #interviews #2023 #interviews: 2023 #the london library magazine 2023

37 notes · View notes

sweetest-devotion · 2 years

Text

DAVID DAWSON'S FULL INTERVIEW WITH THE TIMES

The British actor David Dawson stars in this autumn’s hotly anticipated film My Policeman, about a gay affair in the repressive Fifties. His co-star? A certain global pin-up called Harry

Ordinarily in David Dawson’s line of work, when you take on a new project – a play, or a film, or a TV show – “You have a meet and greet and a big read-through with coffee and cake or whatever,” he says. When the actor signed up to My Policeman, however, the country was still deep in Covid, and meeting, greeting and sharing cake in person was firmly out. “It’s a very bizarre thing when you’re then told you’re going to be on a Zoom discussing scenes with a very, very famous person. And you think, ‘How weird is life?’

He’s not exaggerating. The very, very famous person he was about to meet – albeit virtually, initially – was the world’s celebrity crush, the former boy-band member turned fashion plate whose current sellout stadium tour looks set potentially to continue indefinitely. He’s the star of two of the most talked-about films of the year; a man who can send the internet into a tailspin over whether or not he spat on his co-star, Chris Pine. He is one Harry Styles.

Adapted from the novel by Bethan Roberts – and based loosely on the author EM Forster’s 40-year relationship with a married policeman, Bob Buckingham – the film stars Styles as Tom, a sexually confused copper in Fifties Brighton who meets and marries schoolteacher Marion (Emma Corrin) while simultaneously conducting a clandestine relationship with worldly, sophisticated museum curator Patrick, played by Dawson. It is a tragic love triangle with a wholly non-equilateral apportioning of sex. By which I mean: poor Marion.

Forty years later, Marion moves Patrick into the cottage she shares with Tom to care for him following a stroke, much to Tom’s consternation.

As with Tom and Patrick, there was an age gap between Forster and Buckingham, who was 28 when he met the 51-year-old author of Howard’s End and A Room with a View, beginning what Bethan Roberts has called “a functioning triangular arrangement… sharing their beloved Buckingham”.

And, like Marion, Buckingham’s wife, May, nursed Forster in his later years; after a stroke in 1970, the writer moved into the Buckinghams’ home in Coventry.

“I now know that he [Forster] was in love with Robert and therefore critical and jealous of me and our early years were very stormy, mostly because he had not the faintest idea of the pattern of our lives and was determined that Robert should not be engulfed in domesticity,” May Buckingham later wrote. “Over the years he changed us both and he and I came to love one another, able to share the joys and sorrows that came.”

“We had three weeks of rehearsal, which is unusual, and was so useful to build a friendship and a chemistry with Emma and Harry,” says Dawson, the 40-year-old’s soft Widnes accent a dramatic departure from the aesthete Patrick’s clipped vowels.

How much of that three weeks was spent on the extensive sex scenes between him and Styles? “A good few days, actually,” admits Dawson. “Michael [Grandage, the director] brought on board an intimacy co-ordinator and it was very much a collaboration. It felt like a beautiful dance. And me and Harry promised each other on day one that we would always look out for each other, that we would always continue to check in with each other. Harry and I wanted those scenes to be the best they could be.”

“So much of gay sex in films is two guys going at it, and it kind of removes the tenderness from it,” Styles has said of the film. “There will be, I would imagine, some people who watch it who were very much alive during this time when it was illegal to be gay, and [Michael] wanted to show that it’s tender and loving and sensitive.”

Dawson – who has appeared in a raft of period dramas including Peaky Blinders, The Borgias and The Last Kingdom, the adaptation of Bernard Cornwell’s The Saxon Stories in which he played King Alfred – had limited experience of sex scenes in his career to date. “I’d done Secret Diary of a Call Girl when I was young, and I did sex in that, but no, I hadn’t done many intimate scenes before this.”

This is also his most high-profile role by some stretch. Is he prepared for the attention that his steamy scenes with Styles – whom he has called “a true professional and a gentleman” – are about to bring him? “I’ve not really thought about that, actually,” he says. I don’t believe him for a second.

Dawson arrives at the studio in east London in black skinny jeans, boots and a blue trench coat, an indie-band frontman’s floppy fringe and cheekbones you could grate parmesan with. He’d make a great understudy for Brett Anderson from Suede.

“It felt so strangely personal to look at your life and think, ‘How would I have coped?’ ” he says of playing Patrick, settling on a leather sofa with an oatmilk Americano. “How lucky I am not to worry that my reputation could be destroyed, or I could lose friends.”

He and his fiancé, Josh, a mental health nurse and author, got engaged just before Covid struck and plan finally to marry next year; he sports a large, black onyx engagement ring next to the silver McQueen snake ring his family bought him for his recent 40th birthday. The couple – plus Dodger, the French bulldog – are in the process of moving from north London to Manchester to gain a garden and be closer to their families. “The pace is slower, you can breathe more. And I’m sick of sharing a wheelie bin,” he says, grinning.

What he loves about Patrick, though, is that, “He has an awful lot of pride in his sexuality even though he’s living during this time. He knows who he is and he’s not ashamed of it. He’s developed this persona out of necessity, not only to survive but to thrive – in terms of his ambitions but also in terms of being respectable in this society.”

He is at pains to stress that even though it’s a period film, “I hope we don’t think that everything’s OK now. This film makes me acknowledge how incredibly privileged my generation is to have the freedoms and the rights we have. There are many people around the world where these laws and the society that Patrick lives in is the reality right now.”

The film is shot across two time periods, 40 years apart, with the elder Patrick played by Rupert Everett (the elder Tom is played by Linus Roache and Marion by Gina McKee). Everett, now 63, who publicly came out at 30, has repeatedly stated that he believes doing so derailed his Hollywood career. “It was a huge issue,” he has said. “There’s only a certain amount of mileage you can make, as a young pretender, as a leading man, as a homosexual.”

He has even gone so far as to advise fellow actors not to come out for fear of ruining their film prospects. “It’s not that advisable to be honest,” he has said. “I would not advise any actor necessarily, if he was really thinking of his career, to come out…” He has called Hollywood “an extremely conservative world” that “pretends to be a liberal world”.

“I really do hope it’s changed,” says Dawson. “Maybe I’ve just been lucky. I’ve been with the same agent since I came out at drama school in 2005. So I know I’ve got their support.”

He also pays tribute to his “legendary parents, who’ve always been there. It’s an incredible thing and I acknowledge that a lot of my friends and a lot of people do not have that in their life.”

Though he identifies as an introvert, growing up his performative streak was obvious from a young age. “I’d raid my mum’s black wool box, I’d get tinfoil and a coat hanger and be seriously Captain Hook.” His first major role? “Joseph. My mum made me a beautiful staff and I had a really lovely tea towel from Marks & Spencer. But I was a very serious Joseph,” he says, laughing. “I told the shepherds off for not focusing properly.”

He was heavily involved in local am-dram, but not only acting. At 16 he wrote his first play, Divorced and Desperate, which ran at the Queen’s Hall Theatre in Widnes for three nights. “I was obsessed with Rik Mayall. He was one of my heroes, so it was quite anarchic and bizarre.” A year later he wrote and starred in The Boy in the Bed, “about a boy who was pretending to be bedridden, is obsessed with Marilyn Monroe and who was abusing his home carer – it was really dark”, at the Tower Theatre in Islington, a production funded, in part, by Barbara Windsor and Julie Walters. He’d written – somewhat improbably – to the two actresses to ask for financial backing. “I loved the Carry On films when I was little and Peggy Mitchell was iconic, so I always loved a bit of Babs, and Julie because she’s long been a hero,” he says of his benefactors. “I never expected a reply. I think I had that ‘f*** it’ attitude where you just try. It was quite brave of them to give money to a 17-year-old…”

By then he’d moved to London where, after failing to get a place at Rada, he spent a year as a silver service waiter. I’m about to offer my own experiences of silver service ineptitude at provincial hotel weddings, but Dawson’s gigs were a cut above. “I worked for the Beckhams and Princess Anne, at marquees in the grounds of Beckingham Palace and Sotheby’s. We had to sign a lot of confidentiality things.”

He got into Rada the second time round in a class alongside Tom Hiddleston and Andrea Riseborough. His first professional role on graduation was understudying Kevin Spacey in Richard II at the Old Vic. “It’s a weird thing, being an understudy. You cross your fingers a bit. I’m sure that’s not the case for all understudies, but I certainly was hungry to play Richard II.” I ask what it was like working with Spacey – long before the actor was accused of misconduct. “I didn’t really get to… We were kind of supporting artistes, the people I was with, so we never really got to work with any of the lead actors,” he demurs.

Dawson is equally cautious about commenting on the accusations of “queer baiting” (the practice of hinting at but not actually depicting same-sex romance or representation) that have been levelled at his co-star Styles, whose brand is built on sexual ambiguity. “I think everyone, including myself, has their own journey with figuring out sexuality and getting more comfortable with it,” Styles told Rolling Stone earlier this year. “It’s not like, ‘This is a gay story about these guys being gay.’ It’s about love and about wasted time to me.

“Sometimes people say, ‘You’ve only publicly been with women,’ and I don’t think I’ve publicly been with anyone,” Styles went on to assert. “If someone takes a picture of you with someone, it doesn’t mean you’re choosing to have a public relationship or something.”

Dawson spends time mulling over the subject. “I appreciate that who I am playing – [someone] who absolutely understands who he is in the world – that as a gay man I got to play that part,” he says eventually. “But in terms of who he is playing, it’s kind of ambiguous. Harry’s playing someone who doesn’t quite know who he is. The problem with Tom – and he’s the one who causes all the problems – is that he doesn’t know who he is throughout his whole life.” He stops for a beat. “I’m not saying that about Harry, by the way.” Nor is he criticising Tom. “I understand that he was growing up in a time where you were not allowed even to think about alternatives.”

Audiences may disagree that only Tom causes problems; Patrick’s motivations might seem questionable too. “I’m really excited by projects where an audience will find their relationship with the people that they’re watching conflicted at times – because they’re only human,” says Dawson. “They make mistakes, like all of us, or they make bad decisions. But I hope in My Policeman that you understand it’s the world in which they’re living that has made them make those decisions.”

When making My Policeman, Dawson spent a lot of time, he says, reflecting on his first lead role on television. He played Tony Warren, the creator of the long-running soap in the BBC drama The Road to Coronation Street in 2010. “He was openly gay in 1960 and he was only 24.

“I suppose when you look at My Policeman as a modern person you might have a certain element of anger or feelings of sadness about that period,” says Dawson. “But Tony used to take me for dinner and he would tell me what it was like being a young man then.

“He told stories of romance and passion and that being something quite sexy. It shows the strength of that community to find joy in a time that was incredibly difficult.”

My Policeman is released in cinemas on October 21 and streams on Prime Video from November 4

#the times #David Dawson #MP #my policeman #MP promo #Tom Jackson #michael grandage #Bethan Roberts #Harry styles #acting

14 notes · View notes

manchesterau · 4 years

Text

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point.

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore).

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-'

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll).

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal).

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end)

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared.

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

#*#my policeman #godd this book...i cant wait for the movie #mp

135 notes · View notes

fuckyeahfightlock · 4 years

Text

1 - ‘tis the Season

"It must be much too cold up there alone,” said Kitty, whose idea of love, though correct, remained withered: for Maurice and Alec were at that moment neither lonely nor cold. Their favourite time for talking had been reached. Couched in a shed near their work—to sleep rough had proved safer—they shared in whispered review the events of the day before falling asleep. Kitty was included, and they decided to leave their present job and find work in a new district, in case she told the Police, or returned. --from the unpublished epilogue to EM Forster’s Maurice

Alec had done his best to make them comfortable--two hole-riddled horse blankets made their nest, and between their two bedrolls they’d three more woolen ones, only slightly less smelly, so each of them could bundle himself beneath the cover of the largest one, which fit them both when they were close together. And so they were then, with Maurice’s shoulder tucked beneath Alec’s, blond head resting against Alec’s chest while he massaged the day’s work from Alec’s wrists.

“That woman you saw today, on the bicycle,” Maurice began, barely above a whisper. There was a stove in the shed, and a log shifted, making sparks. “That was my sister, Kitty.”

“It was never,” Alec protested. “What would she be doing in Yorkshire? On a bicycle.”

“I haven’t a clue, except to guess she told herself and my family she needed a holiday, when what she really needs is your axe to crack the ice around her heart, the foul witch.”

Alec tsked. “Shouldn’t talk like that about your family, even though.”

“Hang the lot of them; all they wanted was for me to find a position that would keep them lazy and well-dressed until they put me in the ground. I respect myself more now than they ever did, or would.”

Alec kissed the top of his head. “There you go with your philosophy, again,” he chided gently. “I’d agree with you, of course, but just now I think we’ve got to worry ourselves that she could come cycling past again. Or go to the police.”

Maurice sighed and burrowed his face into Alec’s shirtfront. “Can we worry tomorrow? Or tomorrow’s tomorrow?” he asked in a plaintive tone. He did not like to worry before bed.

“Fix it now, I think,” Alec said with some authority, “and worry about it not at all. Winter’s settled in hard now, and there’s less weather down south. What say you, my dear, to moving on? We can always find work, and a beautiful house like this one.” He made a sweeping gesture with one hand, indicating their mausoleum-like abode, which they pretended to like only because it was safer to sleep rough than to take rooms in a village. Each of them kept his own safety as his second priority--just after assuring the safety of his mate. “We’ll sleep easier.” As if distracted by it, he added softly, “Your pretty head,” and kissed it again.

“For everything a season, and a time for every purpose,” Maurice recited, with some irony, though his surrender was made clear by his sigh. “You’re right, of course, Alec, as ever you are.” Maurice shifted his body, feeling every ache and catch of a day’s respectable work as he did so, to embrace Alec in a way that made it easy to kiss him. For now they were warmed by the fire and their woolen nest, and they’d decided on a course, and morning was still hours away, and so Maurice would love him--caress him, cover him in kisses, take away his breath and catch it for his own--through the dark, freezing night.

#2020 Advent Ficlet Challenge #yes I'm here at last!#I'll try to catch up #writing #fic #Maurice

25 notes · View notes

unwillingadventurer · 3 years

Note

2, 7, 8, 11 <3

Thank you :D

Who is your favourite fictional character and why?

Ahhh this is really hard! How are we supposed to pick a fave fictional character out of the hundreds we love? Let's just go with Raffles for this because he's definitely right near the top with Bunny. Just love how exciting he is, so different than either of us are, and how he exists in such a restricting society and yet breaks out and does all these things he shouldn't but not that he's even doing it for a great cause or reason, he just wants to and he's gonna. Even the way he just loves the beauty in things is so endearing. He's also not what people assume he'd be like, he's not cold because he's a genius at what he does. He's sociable, charming and charismatic but he also loves to escape to solitude when it all gets too much. And the way he and Bunny are together, well, we love them so much, such a perfect partnership of two very different people with very different temperaments who exist and fit so well in their secret world together.

Then there's Ian and Barbara from Doctor Who, the unwilling adventurers who crave to see home and like Raffles and Bunny are so good together that it's hard to choose one without the other. Ian is loyal, brave, strong and funny, and Barbara's love of history is one of our fave things.

Also the Chevalier from Versailles for just being such a drama queen with a vulnerable side!

Who else? The Captain from Ghosts, (All from Ghosts tbh), Frasier Crane, Toby Meres, James Elliot and Harriet, Major Mohn, First Doctor, Vicki and Steven, Arthur Kipps, Maria Von Trapp, Thomas Barrow, Rose Tyler...the list is endless so will end it there lol

7. What makes you feel better on gloomy days?

Watching either Ghosts, Only Fools and Horses, Frasier etc. Tbh just watching anything that we really love that cheers us up. But also a really good drama or crime series might do the trick. Also like to chat to friends and have a laugh with them. Sometimes maybe writing a story also helps to pass the time or do a jigsaw puzzle.

8. What are your top three films? Books?

Top three? Impossible!

Ok for books we've both really got into EM Forster at the mo (Also working through an audio drama collection of his too which is so good) so we're gonna go with Passage to India and Maurice to add to the Raffles stories by EW Hornung. Don't think Raffles can be topped.

Films is much harder because we only read a few books a year whereas we watch like 50 films a year we've never seen before lol. Let's see. It'd probably be a classic. Psycho, It's a Wonderful Life, Some Like it Hot, The Servant, Back to the Future, SIngin' in the Rain. Just too many. 1917 for a recent one we loved. We've watched so many great films we wanted to in recent years as well.

11. What character archetype or trope is your favourite?

We're not sticking with just one here. We're suckers for enemies to friends or at least 'kind of like each other to really like each other'. Absolutely love characters shoved together and becoming each other's family.

Love character types like stuffy, grumpy people who are stuck in a way of living but then gradually learn to step out a bit, the ones who seem all pompous but are totally cute and have a heart of gold under the stern exterior.

And then the opposite type, the glamourous exciting Raffles type who does things you'd never do in real life but secretly wanna be. Clearly why we love both Raffles and Hustle.

And also love the sweet characters, ones who are just absolutely nice people because nice people are interesting too and make people happier by existing.

#ask

6 notes · View notes

nellygwyn · 3 years

Note

9, 20, 67&68, and 118 :^)

9: your favourite book of 2020

Honestly, I read so many good backs last year, especially because I was in lockdown for most of it, but I think I might have enjoyed Forever Amber by Kathleen Winsor the most. Can't go wrong with a Restoration era bodice ripper that is like, 2000 pages or something ridiculous.

20: a book that got you out of a reading slump

I've been in a bit of a reading slump recently actually, but seem to be getting my groove back after finishing re-reading A Room With a View by EM Forster over two days this week!

67: your favourite historical fiction novel

It's a toss up between The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock by Imogen Hermes-Gowar, or Slammerkin by Emma Donoghue.

68: your favourite piece of classic literature

Jane Austen's entire collection of works....but I guess I would say that Persuasion and Sense & Sensibility might be my MOST favourite.

118: your favourite short story collection

Really love Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, but I also recently enjoyed Love in Colour: Mythical Tales from Around the World Re-Told by Bolu Babalola

#thanks!!!

4 notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomens · 5 years

Link

Moving Heaven And Hell

Gaiman’s TV adaptation of his and Terry Prachett’s Good Omens is coming to UK terrestrial TV this January and here’s its director and executive producer Douglas Mackinnon talking about it…

This has clearly been a splendid partnership between you and Neil. What have you most enjoyed about working with him?

It’s been a fantastic experience. It’s been a complete collaboration. He’s very generous in that way. We work very well together. Rather than getting stuck on a problem, we turn it to our advantage. We have a really unified vision. My task as a director is to dig into the brain of Neil and the brain of the book. I see my role as an enabler. If someone says to me: “We can’t afford to do the Kraken,” it’s my job to find a way of doing it that fits with our budget.

We managed to secure Shakespeare’s Globe as a location, but we couldn’t afford to populate it with a large crowd. In the book, the scene is the first week of Hamlet. It’s a great success, and the Globe is very crowded. So I said to Neil: “How about doing the same scene, but Hamlet is a disaster and no one is coming to see it, so we don’t need a big crowd?” In the scene, Crowley and Aziraphale turn up at an empty Globe and have a conversation about their relationship. Crowley says a line, and Shakespeare steals it!

We shot an 11-person scene set in a church during the Second World War with all the principal actors, Mark Gatiss and Steve Pemberton – all in one day. We also shot Atlantis, a Kraken and a flying saucer. Those things would be the centrepiece of an episode of Doctor Who, but we threw them away in two minutes. Also, the bookshop needs to look like it’s in the heart of Soho. But it needs to go on fire at the end, too. That was a very expensive set to burn!

Tell us how you have paid respect to the late Terry Pratchett…

In Good Omens, Neil has been carrying out a personal mission to represent Terry everywhere. One of the things I said to Neil very early on was to repeat the rule I had with Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss on Sherlock – I never needed to know who wrote what line. I think that’s more respectful to Neil and to Terry. Sometimes Neil would say: “That’s a really important scene to me.” One example was the sushi scene. He and Terry had made a pact with each other to be there for the filming of that scene – perhaps because they wanted free sushi. Neil passed on that sentiment to me. We have also dropped in some tributes to Terry. For example, it is Terry’s real hat that hangs in the bookshop.

You famously have the most thumbed copy of Good Omens in the world. Was that book very useful on set?

Definitely. The book is the solution to everything. Our respect for the book was the beginning and the end of it all. Even in the cutting room, Neil would say to me: “There is something not quite right about this scene. I wish there was another line we could add here.” I would reply: “There is a line we can add here. You wrote it 30 years ago in the book!” When we were editing, the structure of the book really helped us. Five million people have read Good Omens. Maybe there is something in Neil’s storytelling!

What music have you chosen for Good Omens?

We’ve got 15 Queen tracks, which is a great coup, especially considering the success of Bohemian Rhapsody. In the book, Bohemian Rhapsody plays when Crowley gets his instructions about what to do with the Antichrist. We even have a Freddie Mercury impersonator. When I was hoping to get this project, I wandering around Vancouver – where I was filming Dirk Gently – listening to Queen and reading the book. I’m a lifelong Queen fan, so I wasn’t such an idiot when I was listening to them when I was 14!

Why is Frances McDormand such good casting as God?

She has this amazing voice. She helps the audience through this very complex story, so she is our guide as well as God. She’s Terry and Neil’s representative in heaven.

How would you characterise the tone of Good Omens?

Before we started, I played all departments two David Bowie songs. First of all, I played them Life On Mars with Rick Wakeman’s marvellous, pure piano accompaniment. I told the departments: “That’s not Good Omens. It’s too perfect.” Then I played them Aladdin Sane where Mike Garson plays this wonderful cracked piano solo. I said to the departments: “That’s Good Omens.” It’s not something pure. It’s something that shouldn’t be beautiful, but is. It’s like when the Japanese break pots – they paint over the cracks with gold. You celebrate the scar.

What message do you hope that people take away from Good Omens?

I hope it doesn’t sound pompous, but it shows that peace can win over war. You can talk most problems out. You don’t have to fight them out. But for me, the biggest element in all drama is relationships. As EM Forster said, drama is about displaying relationships. Seeing Crowley and Aziraphale – the ultimate representations of good and evil – get on so well is the most beautiful thing. It’s like Butch and Sundance or Thelma and Louise. It all depends on the very special chemistry between David and Michael. That’s the core of it. From the moment they meet in the Garden of Eden, there are classic couple. They bicker, but love each other and find a way through their differences, which are pretty extreme.

Why does the partnership between David and Michael work so well in Good Omens?

The success of the show lies in their chemistry, which comes from them enjoying doing something different from their previous projects. Michael has described their scenes together as like a little dance. It’s a very high-powered version of Strictly Come Dancing. Does that mean I am Bruce Forsyth?

#good omens #douglas mackinnon #neil gaiman #interview #terry pratchett #bts

400 notes · View notes

justforbooks · 4 years

Photo

The 100 best novels written in English: the full list

After two years of careful consideration, Robert McCrum has reached a verdict on his selection of the 100 greatest novels written in English. Take a look at his list.

1. The Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan (1678)

A story of a man in search of truth told with the simple clarity and beauty of Bunyan’s prose make this the ultimate English classic.

2. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe (1719)

By the end of the 19th century, no book in English literary history had enjoyed more editions, spin-offs and translations. Crusoe’s world-famous novel is a complex literary confection, and it’s irresistible.

3. Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift (1726)

A satirical masterpiece that’s never been out of print, Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels comes third in our list of the best novels written in English

4. Clarissa by Samuel Richardson (1748)

Clarissa is a tragic heroine, pressured by her unscrupulous nouveau-riche family to marry a wealthy man she detests, in the book that Samuel Johnson described as “the first book in the world for the knowledge it displays of the human heart.”

5. Tom Jones by Henry Fielding (1749)

Tom Jones is a classic English novel that captures the spirit of its age and whose famous characters have come to represent Augustan society in all its loquacious, turbulent, comic variety.

6. The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman by Laurence Sterne (1759)

Laurence Sterne’s vivid novel caused delight and consternation when it first appeared and has lost little of its original bite.

7. Emma by Jane Austen (1816)

Jane Austen’s Emma is her masterpiece, mixing the sparkle of her early books with a deep sensibility.

8. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (1818)

Mary Shelley’s first novel has been hailed as a masterpiece of horror and the macabre.

9. Nightmare Abbey by Thomas Love Peacock (1818)

The great pleasure of Nightmare Abbey, which was inspired by Thomas Love Peacock’s friendship with Shelley, lies in the delight the author takes in poking fun at the romantic movement.

10. The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket by Edgar Allan Poe (1838)

Edgar Allan Poe’s only novel – a classic adventure story with supernatural elements – has fascinated and influenced generations of writers.

11. Sybil by Benjamin Disraeli (1845)

The future prime minister displayed flashes of brilliance that equalled the greatest Victorian novelists.

12. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë (1847)

Charlotte Brontë’s erotic, gothic masterpiece became the sensation of Victorian England. Its great breakthrough was its intimate dialogue with the reader.

13. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (1847)

Emily Brontë’s windswept masterpiece is notable not just for its wild beauty but for its daring reinvention of the novel form itself.

14. Vanity Fair by William Thackeray (1848)

William Thackeray’s masterpiece, set in Regency England, is a bravura performance by a writer at the top of his game.

15. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens (1850)

David Copperfield marked the point at which Dickens became the great entertainer and also laid the foundations for his later, darker masterpieces.

16. The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1850)

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s astounding book is full of intense symbolism and as haunting as anything by Edgar Allan Poe.

17. Moby-Dick by Herman Melville (1851)

Wise, funny and gripping, Melville’s epic work continues to cast a long shadow over American literature.

18. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (1865)

Lewis Carroll’s brilliant nonsense tale is one of the most influential and best loved in the English canon.

19. The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins (1868)

Wilkie Collins’s masterpiece, hailed by many as the greatest English detective novel, is a brilliant marriage of the sensational and the realistic.

20. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (1868-9)

Louisa May Alcott’s highly original tale aimed at a young female market has iconic status in America and never been out of print.

21. Middlemarch by George Eliot (1871-2)

This cathedral of words stands today as perhaps the greatest of the great Victorian fictions.

22. The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope (1875)

Inspired by the author’s fury at the corrupt state of England, and dismissed by critics at the time, The Way We Live Now is recognised as Trollope’s masterpiece.

23. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (1884/5)

Mark Twain’s tale of a rebel boy and a runaway slave seeking liberation upon the waters of the Mississippi remains a defining classic of American literature.

24. Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson (1886)

A thrilling adventure story, gripping history and fascinating study of the Scottish character, Kidnapped has lost none of its power.

25. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome (1889)

Jerome K Jerome’s accidental classic about messing about on the Thames remains a comic gem.

26. The Sign of Four by Arthur Conan Doyle (1890)

Sherlock Holmes’s second outing sees Conan Doyle’s brilliant sleuth – and his bluff sidekick Watson – come into their own.

27. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (1891)

Wilde’s brilliantly allusive moral tale of youth, beauty and corruption was greeted with howls of protest on publication.

28. New Grub Street by George Gissing (1891)

George Gissing’s portrayal of the hard facts of a literary life remains as relevant today as it was in the late 19th century.

29. Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy (1895)

Hardy exposed his deepest feelings in this bleak, angry novel and, stung by the hostile response, he never wrote another.

30. The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane (1895)

Stephen Crane’s account of a young man’s passage to manhood through soldiery is a blueprint for the great American war novel.

31. Dracula by Bram Stoker (1897)

Bram Stoker’s classic vampire story was very much of its time but still resonates more than a century later.

32. Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad (1899)

Joseph Conrad’s masterpiece about a life-changing journey in search of Mr Kurtz has the simplicity of great myth.

33. Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser (1900)

Theodore Dreiser was no stylist, but there’s a terrific momentum to his unflinching novel about a country girl’s American dream.

34. Kim by Rudyard Kipling (1901)

In Kipling’s classic boy’s own spy story, an orphan in British India must make a choice between east and west.

35. The Call of the Wild by Jack London (1903)

Jack London’s vivid adventures of a pet dog that goes back to nature reveal an extraordinary style and consummate storytelling.

36. The Golden Bowl by Henry James (1904)

American literature contains nothing else quite like Henry James’s amazing, labyrinthine and claustrophobic novel.

37. Hadrian the Seventh by Frederick Rolfe (1904)

This entertaining if contrived story of a hack writer and priest who becomes pope sheds vivid light on its eccentric author – described by DH Lawrence as a “man-demon”.

38. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame (1908)

The evergreen tale from the riverbank and a powerful contribution to the mythology of Edwardian England.

39. The History of Mr Polly by HG Wells (1910)

The choice is great, but Wells’s ironic portrait of a man very like himself is the novel that stands out.

40. Zuleika Dobson by Max Beerbohm (1911)

The passage of time has conferred a dark power upon Beerbohm’s ostensibly light and witty Edwardian satire.

41. The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford (1915)

Ford’s masterpiece is a searing study of moral dissolution behind the facade of an English gentleman – and its stylistic influence lingers to this day.

42. The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan (1915)

John Buchan’s espionage thriller, with its sparse, contemporary prose, is hard to put down.

43. The Rainbow by DH Lawrence (1915)

The Rainbow is perhaps DH Lawrence’s finest work, showing him for the radical, protean, thoroughly modern writer he was.

44. Of Human Bondage by W Somerset Maugham (1915)

Somerset Maugham’s semi-autobiographical novel shows the author’s savage honesty and gift for storytelling at their best.

45. The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton (1920)

The story of a blighted New York marriage stands as a fierce indictment of a society estranged from culture.

46. Ulysses by James Joyce (1922)

This portrait of a day in the lives of three Dubliners remains a towering work, in its word play surpassing even Shakespeare.

47. Babbitt by Sinclair Lewis (1922)

What it lacks in structure and guile, this enthralling take on 20s America makes up for in vivid satire and characterisation.

48. A Passage to India by EM Forster (1924)

EM Forster’s most successful work is eerily prescient on the subject of empire.

49. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes by Anita Loos (1925)

A guilty pleasure it may be, but it is impossible to overlook the enduring influence of a tale that helped to define the jazz age.

50. Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf (1925)

Woolf’s great novel makes a day of party preparations the canvas for themes of lost love, life choices and mental illness.

51. The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald (1925)

Fitzgerald’s jazz age masterpiece has become a tantalising metaphor for the eternal mystery of art.

52. Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner (1926)

A young woman escapes convention by becoming a witch in this original satire about England after the first world war.

53. The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway (1926)

Hemingway’s first and best novel makes an escape to 1920s Spain to explore courage, cowardice and manly authenticity.

54. The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett (1929)

Dashiell Hammett’s crime thriller and its hard-boiled hero Sam Spade influenced everyone from Chandler to Le Carré.

55. As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner (1930)

The influence of William Faulkner’s immersive tale of raw Mississippi rural life can be felt to this day.

56. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (1932)

Aldous Huxley’s vision of a future human race controlled by global capitalism is every bit as prescient as Orwell’s more famous dystopia.

57. Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons (1932)

The book for which Gibbons is best remembered was a satire of late-Victorian pastoral fiction but went on to influence many subsequent generations.

58. Nineteen Nineteen by John Dos Passos (1932)

The middle volume of John Dos Passos’s USA trilogy is revolutionary in its intent, techniques and lasting impact.

59. Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller (1934)

The US novelist’s debut revelled in a Paris underworld of seedy sex and changed the course of the novel – though not without a fight with the censors.

60. Scoop by Evelyn Waugh (1938)

Evelyn Waugh’s Fleet Street satire remains sharp, pertinent and memorable.

61. Murphy by Samuel Beckett (1938)

Samuel Beckett’s first published novel is an absurdist masterpiece, a showcase for his uniquely comic voice.

62. The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler (1939)

Raymond Chandler’s hardboiled debut brings to life the seedy LA underworld – and Philip Marlowe, the archetypal fictional detective.

63. Party Going by Henry Green (1939)

Set on the eve of war, this neglected modernist masterpiece centres on a group of bright young revellers delayed by fog.

64. At Swim-Two-Birds by Flann O’Brien (1939)

Labyrinthine and multilayered, Flann O’Brien’s humorous debut is both a reflection on, and an exemplar of, the Irish novel.

65. The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck (1939)

One of the greatest of great American novels, this study of a family torn apart by poverty and desperation in the Great Depression shocked US society.

66. Joy in the Morning by PG Wodehouse (1946)

PG Wodehouse’s elegiac Jeeves novel, written during his disastrous years in wartime Germany, remains his masterpiece.

67. All the King’s Men by Robert Penn Warren (1946)

A compelling story of personal and political corruption, set in the 1930s in the American south.

68. Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry (1947)

Malcolm Lowry’s masterpiece about the last hours of an alcoholic ex-diplomat in Mexico is set to the drumbeat of coming conflict.

69. The Heat of the Day by Elizabeth Bowen (1948)

Elizabeth Bowen’s 1948 novel perfectly captures the atmosphere of London during the blitz while providing brilliant insights into the human heart.

70. Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell (1949)

George Orwell’s dystopian classic cost its author dear but is arguably the best-known novel in English of the 20th century.

71. The End of the Affair by Graham Greene (1951)

Graham Greene’s moving tale of adultery and its aftermath ties together several vital strands in his work.

72. The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger (1951)

JD Salinger’s study of teenage rebellion remains one of the most controversial and best-loved American novels of the 20th century.

73. The Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellow (1953)

In the long-running hunt to identify the great American novel, Saul Bellow’s picaresque third book frequently hits the mark.

74. Lord of the Flies by William Golding (1954)

Dismissed at first as “rubbish & dull”, Golding’s brilliantly observed dystopian desert island tale has since become a classic.

75. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (1955)

Nabokov’s tragicomic tour de force crosses the boundaries of good taste with glee.

76. On the Road by Jack Kerouac (1957)

The creative history of Kerouac’s beat-generation classic, fuelled by pea soup and benzedrine, has become as famous as the novel itself.

77. Voss by Patrick White (1957)

A love story set against the disappearance of an explorer in the outback, Voss paved the way for a generation of Australian writers to shrug off the colonial past.

78. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (1960)

Her second novel finally arrived this summer, but Harper Lee’s first did enough alone to secure her lasting fame, and remains a truly popular classic.

79. The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark (1960)

Short and bittersweet, Muriel Spark’s tale of the downfall of a Scottish schoolmistress is a masterpiece of narrative fiction.

80. Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (1961)

This acerbic anti-war novel was slow to fire the public imagination, but is rightly regarded as a groundbreaking critique of military madness.

81. The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing (1962)

Hailed as one of the key texts of the women’s movement of the 1960s, this study of a divorced single mother’s search for personal and political identity remains a defiant, ambitious tour de force.

82. A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess (1962)

Anthony Burgess’s dystopian classic still continues to startle and provoke, refusing to be outshone by Stanley Kubrick’s brilliant film adaptation.

83. A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood (1964)

Christopher Isherwood’s story of a gay Englishman struggling with bereavement in LA is a work of compressed brilliance.

84. In Cold Blood by Truman Capote (1966)

Truman Capote’s non-fiction novel, a true story of bloody murder in rural Kansas, opens a window on the dark underbelly of postwar America.

85. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (1966)

Sylvia Plath’s painfully graphic roman à clef, in which a woman struggles with her identity in the face of social pressure, is a key text of Anglo-American feminism.

86. Portnoy’s Complaint by Philip Roth (1969)

This wickedly funny novel about a young Jewish American’s obsession with masturbation caused outrage on publication, but remains his most dazzling work.

87. Mrs Palfrey at the Claremont by Elizabeth Taylor (1971)

Elizabeth Taylor’s exquisitely drawn character study of eccentricity in old age is a sharp and witty portrait of genteel postwar English life facing the changes taking shape in the 60s.

88. Rabbit Redux by John Updike (1971)

Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom, Updike’s lovably mediocre alter ego, is one of America’s great literary protoganists, up there with Huck Finn and Jay Gatsby.

89. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison (1977)

The novel with which the Nobel prize-winning author established her name is a kaleidoscopic evocation of the African-American experience in the 20th century.

90. A Bend in the River by VS Naipaul (1979)

VS Naipaul’s hellish vision of an African nation’s path to independence saw him accused of racism, but remains his masterpiece.

91. Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie (1981)

The personal and the historical merge in Salman Rushdie’s dazzling, game-changing Indian English novel of a young man born at the very moment of Indian independence.

92. Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson (1981)

Marilynne Robinson’s tale of orphaned sisters and their oddball aunt in a remote Idaho town is admired by everyone from Barack Obama to Bret Easton Ellis.

93. Money: A Suicide Note by Martin Amis (1984)

Martin Amis’s era-defining ode to excess unleashed one of literature’s greatest modern monsters in self-destructive antihero John Self.

94. An Artist of the Floating World by Kazuo Ishiguro (1986)

Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel about a retired artist in postwar Japan, reflecting on his career during the country’s dark years, is a tour de force of unreliable narration.

95. The Beginning of Spring by Penelope Fitzgerald (1988)

Fitzgerald’s story, set in Russia just before the Bolshevik revolution, is her masterpiece: a brilliant miniature whose peculiar magic almost defies analysis.

96. Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler (1988)

Anne Tyler’s portrayal of a middle-aged, mid-American marriage displays her narrative clarity, comic timing and ear for American speech to perfection.

97. Amongst Women by John McGahern (1990)

This modern Irish masterpiece is both a study of the faultlines of Irish patriarchy and an elegy for a lost world.

98. Underworld by Don DeLillo (1997)

A writer of “frightening perception”, Don DeLillo guides the reader in an epic journey through America’s history and popular culture.

99. Disgrace by JM Coetzee (1999)

In his Booker-winning masterpiece, Coetzee’s intensely human vision infuses a fictional world that both invites and confounds political interpretation.

100. True History of the Kelly Gang by Peter Carey (2000)

Peter Carey rounds off our list of literary milestones with a Booker prize-winning tour-de-force examining the life and times of Australia’s infamous antihero, Ned Kelly.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #100 best novels #Robert McCrum

70 notes · View notes

wowbright · 5 years

Text

Is there an EM Forster‘s Maurice fandom?

Because it’s the only non-children’s book I’ve read multiple times, and I’ve probably seen the movie just as much if not more since it’s a fairly accurate Clif Notes (and Ben Kingsley’s American accent is a hoot), and I’m in one of those periods again.

SPOILERS AHEAD (that you will only really understand if you’ve read the thing, so maybe not *that* spoilery)

I need the fanfics* where:

as much attention is paid to the development of Maurice’s love for Alec as the development of his love for Clive

we get lots and lots of Alec POV

Maurice isn’t such a douche to his sisters and mom

Clive’s bisexuality gets long shrift (and he is bisexual in the book** if not the movie [where it’s unclear], or possibly even heterosexual—biromantic in any case—and I would forgive you for missing that point because EM Forster gives us that revelation/development in a few hundred very un-PC words at most and then never mentions it again, except that HALF THE PLOT depends on that point)

We find out what happens after the end of the book (either the end of the 1971 edition or the Abinger edition)

*preferably written in EM Forster’s style, but I’m not picky

**no matter what https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Literature/Maurice says!

Also, could I have some Klaine/Maurice fanfic? I can’t decide how to cast them because they both have (and don’t have) aspects of Maurice and Alec, so I will take both versions, thank you. I knew a wonderful writer back in the LiveJournal days who was working on one and I got to read the first scene or two, but I don’t know that they ever continued it. Knowing me, I probably accidentally killed the project with my beta comments because I hadn’t yet learned that people expect something different from betas than they do from professional editors. ONE OF MY BIGGEST LIFE REGRETS, if it is true.

Also, do you think Clive is bi in the movie, or gay? I know most people read him as gay (aforementioned TV Tropes link withstanding) but I like to think he is in love with both Maurice and Anne—although of course he would have been on the rebound when he married her, so love-love would have had to come later.

TALK TO ME MAURICE FANDOM!!!!

#em forster #maurice #alec scudder #maurice hall #klaine

66 notes · View notes

timetoresurface · 5 years

Text

Fourteen people, I would like to know better.

I was tagged by @littleannasun , thank you! ♥

ONE / name/alias: My name is Noëlla but people call me Christmas

TWO / birthday: the 9th or April 1995

THREE / zodiac sign: Aries

FOUR / height: 165cm

FIVE / hobbies: singing, reading, writing and just being immersed in a different world

SIX / favourite colours: always red but lately I’ve been favouring yellow

SEVEN / favourite books: a room with a view by EM Forster

EIGHT / last song i listened to: I’m too much by bad daughter

NINE / last film i watched: I don’t really watch films but I’d think it would be a Netflix film like set it up or something

TEN / inspiration for muse:

ELEVEN / dream job: I would like to be a translator but I’m working in shipping so I still need to use my languages a lot so I’m fine with it

TWELVE / meaning behind your url: it don’t really remember as I’ve had this url ever since I started tumblr (my first was noellaisonyourside inspired by my favourite album by a rocket to the moon called on your side)

THIRTEEN / top 3 ships: I don’t ship tbh

FOURTEEN / lipstick or chapstick: lipstick for life, I love colouring my lips with different shades and being someone different every day

FIFTEEN / currently reading: Jane Austen - Sense and sensibility

I tag @erisann @rumpucis @hurricanedandy @iamsadsstuff @pjmlog @jamkookies

16 notes · View notes

smallgcds-blog · 6 years

Text

GOOD MORNING ! unless ur in a diff time zone, but time is a conception of human perception, so u know...... i’m cora, i'm passable at best at intros, and the haunting of hill house just got done giving me a fear of mirrors ! which doesn’t make any sense hnstly... there was like one ( 1 ) intimidating mirror on that show so idk why . a n y w a y , these are my muses ( so far ) jane, jack, and ray –

* BELLA HEATHCOTE & CISFEMALE / / here we’ve got JANE FORSTER, the HUNDRED AND TEN year old GHOST - luckily, she actually looks about TWENTY - EIGHT years old. with a reputation for being POLITE, CREATIVE, SULLEN, and STUBBORN, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about them. JANE has been around faulk hollow for NINETY - ONE YEARS, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear PENNIES FROM HEAVEN by BING CROSBY? that means you’ll see ‘em soon.

i accidentally named her after bella’s character in pride & prejudice & zombies because my subconscious is a SABOTEUR

jane died in a car accident in 1936, which her husband survived. this is something she’s still a bit angry at him for, though she didn’t actually wish death on him – she was just jealous (but not as jealous as she was when he remarried)

not because she ever wanted him to be unhappy, but it was sort of annoying being dead and not having any say in the matter

she never showed herself to anyone she knew, except accidentally at night from time to time, because she’d died in her own bed and her husband hadn’t the sense to move, but jane sightings were generally over quickly and could be dismissed as the mind playing tricks

she’s very bitter, especially when reminded that there are some immortals who can go wherever they like and not end up back in the same house every fucking night

she’s a really good listener, but tries not to eavesdrop (she’s of the belief that human rules apply to ghosts as well)

NOT trying to be obnoxious with her haunting or get revenge or anything. just sort of the equivalent of a domovoi (tho if someone left her food she’d be insulted)

speaking of russian cryptids, she has quite a few days where she feels like a gremlin and avoids everyone (not that she’s russian??? she isn’t russian)

after her husband died, she helped, as subtly as possible, to raise his daughter, but she and his widow moved away, leaving the house empty for a while

modern music is SO irritating to her unless it’s hozier or noname or anything vaguely calming at which point she is at peace with it

she’s definitely one of those people who never make it obvious when they hate someone

some basic wanted connections i have for jane are...

a distant relative (or maybe they’re not related at all) who does a bit of detective work and is like ‘newsflash, asshole, jane’s been dead the entire goddamn time’

GHOST FRIENDS

someone living in her house who’s technically her roommate but totally doesn’t know it (she’s alright for a deceased roommate but she won’t do the dishes because she doesn’t want to ruin her nails)

something romantic, some more friendships, an enemy or two

i’d say drinking buddies but can ghosts drink? i don’t know how that would work

* OSCAR ISAAC & CISMALE / / here we’ve got RAY CALDERA, the SIXTY year old WITCH - luckily, he actually looks about THIRTY - SEVEN years old. with a reputation for being LEVEL - HEADED, EMPATHETIC, SECRETIVE, and SANGUINE, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about them. RAY has been around faulk hollow for FOUR YEARS, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear OHIO by CROSBY STILLS AND NASH? that means you’ll see ‘em soon.

dealer in enchanted items, potions, etcetera

absolutely the person to go to if ur ever in trouble; always down to help hide a body

has a law degree, and moved to town to continue practicing (he tends to change his name around so he can continue working despite being a sixty year old who looks a little more than half that age)

used to be VERY involved in activism but now he tends to be more involved in witchcraft (he’s carrying on a tradition)

he’s very much a problem solver for fellow supernaturals, as well as the odd human

his apartment is the sparsest of places - rust cohle true detective mood

he REALLY doesn’t get out much

he only listens to music dating from like 1960-1979

originally from yellow springs, ohio

hates stephen king novels with a passion

some wanted connections for ray are...

drinking buddies (because witches, unlike ghosts, CAN drink)

i love a good ex (or maybe their relationship status is just ‘complicated’)

someone he owes a favour

& maybe someone who owes him a favour

coworkers

a mentor (i know he’s like sixty but that’s young for a witch !!!)

* RICKY WHITTLE & CISMALE / / here we’ve got JACK MOREAU, the ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE year old VAMPIRE - luckily, he actually looks about THIRTY - FOUR years old. with a reputation for being STOIC, VIGILANT, AVOIDANT, and RECALCITRANT, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about them. JACK has been around faulk hollow for ONE MONTH, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear GOD’S GONNA CUT YOU DOWN by ODETTA? that means you’ll see ‘em soon.

he’s originally from nyc, but moves cities every few years to keep up the illusion of mortality

the family he left behind, upon becoming immortal, consisted of his younger sister and wife - jack’s parents died when he was sixteen, at which point he began supporting the family. his brother was killed two years later in an accident at the factory where they both worked, which led to jack and his sister growing closer; she’s died now, but jack made a point of visiting her every once in a while. he still has a sneaking suspicion that his sister and his widow got together after he “died” which is really fine by him - his fault for going all vampiric

he’s not clueless when it comes to technology but he spends more time reading books than anything else - his phone is one of those unbreakable nokias that time forgot, especially because technology makes him nervous for every immortal out there

because he wants to live a quiet life, he’s gotten good at avoiding other supernatural beings (though there are several exceptions to this, probably, because i want plots)

he’s considering settling down in faulk hollow - he’s used to very big cities, though, and is a believer in locations that are easy to blend into, so he’s not sure

he’s conscious of the fact that he comes across as a bit standoffish but also like... doesn’t care? he’s really rather not get to know too many people

he’s just gonna drift thru immortal life and not get involved

a firm believer in fate

jack doesn’t tend to trust anyone in power - he’s of the belief that absolute power corrupts absolutely

some wanted connections for jack are.......

someone he turned

supernatural friends, acquaintances, enemies

an on again/off again relationship which is maybe complicated by immortality or lack thereof ? i love those

someone he’s staying with while in town

someone he knew a long time ago in the bronx (who he wasn’t expecting to meet again because he assumed they’d be dead by now)

someone trying to get him involved w some drama

like this if u want to plot / are willing to talk to me about the haunting of hill house & i’ll im u !

#faulk:intro #i wrote this intro at 5 am #and now i'm awake and it's not morning at all anymore #i'm a fraud !#as of 39 minutes ago

8 notes · View notes

wannabealexjenningscoffee · 6 years

Photo

My favourite author or book I keep revisiting EM Forster. He moves me and he makes me laugh. The most perfectly controlled and heartrending writing.

The book I’m reading I’ve just reread Earthly Powers by Anthony Burgess, a great, gorgeous, grandiloquent read. I always thought it would make a sensational film or TV series. Great story, huge epic history-of-the-20th-century sweep, lots of marvellous acting roles.

I’ve also been reading quite a lot of poetry, and have been introduced to Wallace Stevens. Confounding, inspiring, mystical, humane and too clever for me. He’s really hard to read out loud, which is what I have just been doing at the wonderful Ryedale Festival, working alongside brilliant musicians, who make me feel a bit inadequate, so on top of their skills and artistry are they — the Heath Quartet, Fretwork, the pianist Charles Owen and the baroque violinist Rachel Podger.

My favourite film Well, there are just too many. But to name just seven: Meet Me in St Louis, Fanny and Alexander, The Godfather 1 and 2, The Third Man, My Man Godfrey, Those Magnificent Men in Their Flying Machines (a big influence on my acting).

The box set that I’m hooked on The one I constantly want to be watching, and have to stop myself from keeping starting again, is The West Wing. Brilliant writing, brilliant acting. And A GREAT PRESIDENT! What I want for Christmas is the new comprehensive centenary Ingmar Bergman box set from the Criterion Collection. Tip-top new prints and loads of extras and loads of films I’ve never actually seen, but feel I ought to.

The book I wish I had written I have no ambition to be a writer, although I do write occasionally — mini biographies on recently deceased actors for the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. I’m not a natural writer, but I enjoy the research and am slightly obsessed with my acting forebears. I think it’s important that great talents such as Joan Hickson (the best Miss Marple) and Richard Griffiths, to name but two, should be celebrated, remembered, learnt from and, indeed, stolen from. Young actors should know who these people are and steep themselves in what they did.

The book I couldn’t finish I’m hoping this is more “the book I haven’t finished”, as I hope there’s still time . . . I can’t say Proust because everybody always says Proust. But Proust. I’ve started him several times, and loved it, but then something happens. A cup of tea and a madeleine, possibly. Oh, and Ulysses also. I love the great Jim Norton’s wonderful recording of it. Still, not finished that either.

The poem/song that saved me Saved me from what?

My favourite play Nicholas Nickleby. It was quite a good novel first of course, then David Edgar and Trevor Nunn and the greatest company of actors ever assembled turned it into the most unforgettable piece of theatre. I saw it four times and it has stayed with me for 40 years.

My favourite piece of music I love Benjamin Britten and find Peter Grimes compelling, shocking, moving and exciting, dramatically and musically, every time I hear or see it. I first saw it yonks ago at the Royal Opera House, with Jon Vickers mad, bad, and wonderful as Grimes.

The lyric I wish I’d written A Noël Coward song. So many scintillating lyrics. Wonderful stories in miniature. A Room With a View or Mad Dogs and Englishmen. I’d quite like to have come up with those.

My guiltiest cultural pleasure I don’t feel particularly guilty about it, but I love listening to Dean Martin. Obviously Sinatra is best, but Dino, whatever he does, pretend drunk or sober, makes me happy.

The instrument I wish I’d learnt The piano, and ideally to have played like Art Tatum or Earl Hines. Insanely brilliant pianists. I can’t play anything, but feel so lucky when I’m able to work alongside musicians, whether singers, or soloists, or bands in the orchestra pit. Dipping my toes into musical theatre has been a surprise and a joy.

The last music that made me cry A recently released recording of Prince singing Nothing Compares 2 U. Since he died I don’t listen to Prince so much — I find it hard and get really choked up. I was lucky enough to see him perform several times, and he gave me some of the happiest evenings, just revelling in his total brilliance and utter Princeness. The word is bandied around too much, but he was a genius. Listening to him now, it makes me sad. I’ll just have to get over it and dance to him again one day.

The music that cheers me up Copland’s Appalachian Spring does it for me, as does Duke Ellington’s Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue. And Dean Martin.

If I could own one painting . . . Well, I would quite like a house full of Matisses. The exhibition just a few years ago at Tate Modern was so joyful and life-affirming. Seeing the film of that old man wielding his scissors with such abandon. One painting? La Danse would be nice.

The place I feel happiest With my family, and with friends, in my kitchen in Peckham, south London. Oh, and watching Fred Astaire. He’s who I would like to have been.

My favourite TV series Like the movies, I can’t really whittle it down to one: Dad’s Army, The Phil Silvers Show, Your Show of Shows with Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca, hilarious! Peaky Blinders, which I wish I was gritty enough to be in.

The guests I’d invite to a fantasy dinner party . . . I’m just going to go totally golden age showbiz with this one. It’s my fantasy, so: Fred, Noël, Kate & Spence, Bogie & Betty. It would be fun or a nightmare. Or just Katharine Hepburn, maybe.

The play that I’m looking forward to I really want to see Jeanine Tesori’s Fun Home. Her Caroline, or Change is one of the best musicals ever, and Sharon D Clarke in the recent revival gave one of the best performances ever. So I’m very keen to see this new one, and Caroline again, when it’s on at the Playhouse Theatre. And Ian McKellen as King Lear, if I can get in. I have been watching and learning from Ian since I first saw him, all of him, as Edgar in King Lear at the Wimbledon Theatre when I was in the sixth form. He is an inspiration.

I wasted an evening watching/listening to . . . Love Island. And years ago I became shamefully hooked on an early series of Big Brother. My wife and I suddenly realised we were watching people sleeping instead of sleeping ourselves.

The book that is overrated As an instruction manual, the Bible. Good stories, though.

The book that is underrated As a child I loved the books of BB (Denys Watkins-Pitchford). I was transported by Bill Badger on his barge, drifting along, through a dapply, idealised and vanishing English countryside, a land of lost content indeed. I wish BB was better known.

The play that I walked out of at the interval One I was in. It was Present Laughter at the National and it was before the interval. The safety curtain got stuck, so we never really got going. Everyone went home and the theatre was shut for something like three days.

#alex jennings #uk actor #british actor

11 notes · View notes

mdwatchestv · 6 years

Text

Everything I’m Going to Watch in April (April Premieres Bring May...Other Premieres)

God I can't believe it's April, our lives are just draining away down the slop sink of 2018. I did a medium okay job of watching things in March, and really that's all we can ask for in this life.

Atlanta - I was extremely dragged by the acoustic Paper Boi cover, and rightly so.

Academy Awards - I would have done better in my bracket (and in life) had I not made some choices out of spite.

Hard Sun - Not a bad series per say, but on a whole couldn't deliver on the promise of the first episode. If you want to watch a truly whacked-out, hyper-violent show about the end of the world, may I once again recommend Utopia.

Jessica Jones - Even though my love for the character of Jessica Jones is undying, pure, and forever, this season was admittedly a disappointment. Without the direction and focus given by Kilgrave, the plot suffered from the meandering that plagues the rest of the Marvel Netflix Universe.

Collateral - Haven't gotten to it yet, which is shameful because it's only four episodes.

Drag Race - After a somewhat unfulfilling All Stars season, this new group of queens is extremely promising in both talent and dramz.

Requiem - Also not yet!

Santa Clarita Diet - Oh f, I forgot this premiered, I still intend to watch it.

Silicon Valley - Zach Woods is honestly the most underrated person on television, god bless and keep his precious spirit.

Barry - I have not watched this yet, nor have I heard any rumblings about it....suspicious.

Call the Midwife- New midwife alert!!!!

Trust - A bit odd and meandering, but electric in the way that all of Danny Boyle's projects are. I love Anna Chancellor.

The Terror - Have not watched but I WILL FRIENDS, I WILL.

A Series of Unfortunate Events - In my defense this only went up on Friday and I was extremely dedicated to spending my entire three day weekend lying down in a dark room.

I actually did much better with my tv watching then I thought, things only took a poor turn near the end of the month as fatigue set in. Thankfully, there is a ton of new stuff to pile on the tire fire of my tv watching schedule.

Tuesday April 3rd

Legion Season 2 (10pm on FX)

Legion season two!!! I loved the first season of this show SO MUCH I wrote a little essay about it, which you can read here. Legion is the superhero content that feels the most 'free' in it's delivery. Out of the box is an understatement. With exquisite aesthetic, high stakes mutant action sequences, and intermittent dance breaks, Legion is easily my most anticipated show of April.

The Last OG (10:30pm on TBS)

While TNT's recent dramas have been a hot underdeveloped mess, the TBS comedy slate has been filled with stand outs. That's why, despite the extreme delays in release, I am cautiously optimistic about Tracy Morgan's return to television. Also it co-stars Tiffany Haddish!!! The only way I could love her more is if she would just tell us who bit Beyonce, or at least confirm it was Sanaa Lathan (Editor’s note: It has been confirmed).

Sunday April 8th

Killing Eve (8pm on BBC America)

Okay, Legion is still my number one most excited show, but Killing Eve is a close second. "What's this Martha, I've seen very little marketing for it," you (the reader) fairly question. IT IS THE NEW SHOW FROM PHOEBE WALLER-BRIDGE BOW DOWN AND RECEIVE IT AND BE GRATEFUL. If you don't know who Ms. Waller-Bridge is (and if you don't never tell me), she was the creator of Fleabag, Crashing (UK one, NOT Apatow one), and is the light of my life. The fact that show is about a lady psychopath and the lady FBI agent that hunts her is mere icing on the cake. Honestly this show could be about anything, Phoebe wrote and thusly I have arrived for it.

Howard's End (8pm on Starz)

This adaptation of the scandalous EM Forster novel already aired on the BBC, but Starz is giving us scrub Americans the chance to watch it too. Brace yourself for suppression, drama, and Haley Atwell in period dress.

Friday April 13th- Rellik (10pm on Cinemax)

This could either be brilliant in a Memento sort of way, or horrible in a hot mess sort of way. Yet another serial killer drama, but the hook is the story is told in reverse (the title is 'killer' backwards. Do you get? Do you?) A strike against it for me is that I don't like knowing who the killer is up front (hence my inability to watch The Fall), but I also appreciate shows that take risks in storytelling so who knows! Maybe they'll kill it (get it?)

Sunday April 22nd - Westworld (9pm on HBO)

Wow this show totally snuck up on me, I know it's been a long time since season 1, but at the same time I don't feel ready for season 2. The first outing of this show had some highs (Jimmi Simpson forever) and some lows (weird convoluted mysteries that weren't as clever as they thought they were). But I'm optimistic that enough time has passed for HBO to iron out the kinks, and there was enough interest in season 1 for me to come back for more. Also the promise of Samurai World.

Wednesday April 25th -The Handmaid's Tale (Hulu)

I am not one of those people who's a stickler for book adaptations to be unyieldingly loyal to the source material. In fact, I prefer an adaptation that is able to run with the theme a bit, or explore the original work in a way only achievable via visual medium. That being said since season one of this show ran out of book to cover, I can't help feeling a bit tentative about season two. Don't get me wrong there was a lot I LOVED about the first season, Reed Morano's first three episodes were beautifully executed, and Elisabeth Moss turned in one of the best performances I have ever seen on television. But there were a few missteps that deviated from the intention of the book that had me a bit worried, and coupled with a very troubling q and a I attended with the white male show runner... I just don't want to get my hopes up too too high. Hopefully though, this will be just as amazing as I want it to be!

And that's it! Not as jam-packed as March, but there is a LOT of high quality programming here. I will admit usually these lists are more aspirational for me than strictly achievable, but I can assure you I absolutely WILL be tuning into ever show here (except if Rellik turns out to be as dumb as it's name). I know it seems like I should be able to get through a lot more TV every month, but what you don't see listed here is that I'm still loyally watching Riverdale and America's Next Top Model and also taking a lot of in between naps.

April Forever,

#Everything I'm watching #everything i'm going to watch #other tv #april #martha writes #tv writing #tv gifs #handmaid's tale #westworld #last og #legion fx #rellik #howard's end #killing eve #phoebe waller-bridge

7 notes · View notes

theliterateape · 4 years

Text

He Served

By Paul Teodo and Tom Myers

“YOU’RE PISSED.” Rosco fidgeted in his seat, eyeing The Buff, who pouted like a child when he heard anything he didn’t like. Rosco added, “Nothing wrong with upper deck.”

“Can’t see shit from here.” Buff crammed half a dog into his mouth, a chunk of grilled onions sticking to his bushy black beard. He licked mustard off his cigarette-stained fingers. “Nose bleeds. A buck a seat. Cheap ass.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Rosco wanted to yank the words back. He knew better. He knew what was coming.

“Fuck you. I served.” Buff glared at his friend. “I ain’t no beggar.”

He did serve. Four years, in country. ‘Nam. Went in at one-eighty pounds. Got back, two years later he weighed three-seventy-four .The name fit.

“Bad shit, leave me alone,” he’d say when Rosco tried to talk to him about it. “And Jenna. How could she?”

Jenna hooked up with a swimmer behind Buff’s back before he enlisted. Buff nearly killed the guy. His old man, a former tackle for the Bears, fixed it: do time or the Army. Buff chose the Army. He wasn’t a gung-ho or ra-ra kinda guy. He needed a legal way to hurt somebody. “Maybe I’ll get to kill someone. Or someone will take me out.” He was sullen, scrambled, and hurting.

“It hurts when they dump you.” Rosco had tried to help.

Buff would look away, suck hard on a Camel, and try to conceal his tears.

Buff finished the dog, took a slug of beer, and asked. “What’s the count?”

“One and two, Forster’s got his number. Petrocelli’s good, but tonight he’s overmatched. Forster’s dealing. He’ll jam ‘em and K him.”

Buff turned back to Rosco. “I ain’t no beggar.”

“I know, man. Sorry.”

The two sat perched in the left field upper deck, barely under the roof overhang. Friday night, June 7, 1974. Sox-Boston.

They were roomies. Buff came begging, homeless, about six months after he got back. “I can’t live with the old man.” So they found a cheap walk up, third floor, front window overlooking railroad tracks. Buff slept on the couch while Rosco tossed a mattress on the floor in the tiny bedroom. Rosco knew it wouldn’t be easy. His roomie was no prize before he went in and now he was always ticking, ready to go off. Rosco was working a beer truck with a college degree in his back pocket. Buff had no job and wasn’t looking.

“On the fucking couch again?” Rosco shut the door and threw his coat on a chair. He was covered in sweat, hair matted and greasy, reeking of stale beer, hands cut and swollen. He was a “helper,” not a driver. The driver drove, drank, and stole. The helper crawled into the dank basements of taverns, cases of quarts perched perilously on throbbing shoulders, runaway flats of 24 packs stacked twelve-high on a dolly bumping down the dark narrow flight of stairs, mercilessly yanking at his lower back.

“Leave me alone.”

“What’d you do all day?”

“You ain’t my mother.”

“Rent’s due Friday.”

Buff nodded towards an envelope lying on the coffee table next to a smoldering ashtray.

“What’s that?” Rosco asked.

“My share.”

“You got money?”

“Just made some.” Buff took a drag off the Camel then a big swallow of a long neck. “I got ways.”

“You dealin’?”

Buff kept his eyes fixed on the sixteen-inch black and white Philco, showing the tail end of a stupid game show.

“Are you?” Rosco pressed. He’d had enough shit of his own with the cops not to have a roomie dealing.

“Golf clubs.”

“You don’t golf.”

“The old man’s.”

“Whatayou talkin’ about?”

“His spare set. He won’t notice. I’m good for this month.”

Rosco was right. Petrocelli couldn’t touch Forster and he punched him out easy, no problem.

“What’s that?” Buff pointed to the field, another Camel firmly lodged between two yellow fingers, and another Old Style in his other hand.

“What?” Rosco said, not looking where The Buff was pointing.

“That, down there. First base line.”

“I don’t see nothin’.” Rosco was used to brushing off The Buff when he tended to make big deals out of things that often went unnoticed by others.

“Look at the size of the schwanz on that horse?”

“The hot dog guy ain’t got a thumb.”

And “_That guy’s_ Charlie.”

“Smoke,” he said, struggling to stand. “Look.” He pointed with the Camel, ash blowing into Rosco’s face. “Smoke, for fuck sake!”

He was right. Black smoke billowed from the fist base side concession stand tunnel. Throngs of fans followed, flooding towards the field.

“Jesus, it’s a fire.”

“Who’s up next?” Buff asked, waving the hot dog guy over.

“Who’s up? The place is on fire.” Rosco grabbed him by his tattered Dick Allen jersey.

“Watch it. It’s Richie.”

“It’s rags. Can’t even read the name.”

“MVP.”

“He can play,” Rosco said, a scrap of Richie’s jersey dangling from his hand.

“Watch it! For Christ sake! The jersey.”

“Yeah.” Rosco was ready to leave.

The goggle-eyed inebriate must have been ordered to keep the crowd occupied while the fire department came to size up the situation and possibly even remedy the problem.

“I think Montgomery’s up.” Around ten beers Buff began to jump from thought to thought. “He sucks. Forster will punch him too.”

“The place is on fire. Fuck Montgomery. Let’s get outa here.”

“Ladies and gentleman,” a muffled voice echoed over the field. “We are experiencing a malfunction in the popcorn machine at the first base concourse level. The problem will be rectified soon. Please bear with us during our delay, play will resume shortly.”

“You!” Buff’s boom startled the guy one row up and a couple seats over, who looked like a cross between a bodybuilder and a motorcycle outlaw. “You!” Buff screamed again.

“What the fuck are you doing?”Rosco tried to calm his friend.

Buff waved his tenth Old Style at the guy and growled, “You got the time?”

The guy had a silver chain that dangled from his left front pocket to his right, perfectly outlining his brief-less testicles. He looked at The Buff, smiled, and yanked out a pocket watch the size of a hockey puck from his faded Levis and said, “ten… p.m., fat boy.” His droopy white walrus mustache did a lousy job of concealing his shit-eating grin.

Buff’s eyes flashed. His thick neck tightened, and his fists clenched.

“No, Buff. Not tonight.” Rosco, trying to play counselor to his roommate.

Buff sighed, took a deep breath, finished the Old Style and waved the beer guy over for another.

“You’ve had enough,” Rosco said, not wanting to have to bail him out again. The cops knew their address by heart.

Buff smiled back at the biker-body builder, flipping the Camel in his direction. “Thanks for the time.”

“Ten o’clock. Shit, it’s weird isn’t it? A freakin’ fire at the ball park.” Rosco tried to distract his friend.

“Thanks,” Buff said.

Rosco was confused, “For what?” Sometimes around a dozen beers Buff would get apologetic, then morose, stepping back from the edge.

“Everything.” He looked down at his foot grinding the beer soaked peanut shells into the filthy concrete. “Looking after my fat ass. Putting up with my shit. Fronting me the rent. Sox tickets.” He raised his Old Style, “ Everything.”

“Better than Cubs tickets.” Rosco tried to squeeze a smile out of him.

“Fuck the Cubs.” He spit, propelling a wad of green phlegm onto the sticky yellow railing, brown specks of tobacco flecked his teeth.

Buff was back, out from his drunken dangerous spiral.

“Everybody! Let’s sing a song. Let me hear you, a one, a two, a three.” Harry fucking Carey, the biggest drunk and whoremonger in baseball, blasted over the stadium. “When Irish eyes are….”

The goggle-eyed inebriate must have been ordered to keep the crowd occupied while the fire department came to size up the situation and possibly even remedy the problem.

“Harr-eee, Harr-eee, Harr-eee…,” the crowd roared.

Then the fucking organ, louder than an air raid siren, started up. Nancy Foust, the blonde bombshell organist serenaded the masses. Rosco vaguely recognized the tune. It made him think of his mother, slow, melodic. The old man trying to be cool, slow dancing next to the radio. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes. Corny, stupid, but the drunks in the stands loved it. Even body-builder-biker was swooning with his two hundred-pound honey.

A fine drizzle began and Nancy hit the next song right on top of the fuckin’ head. Rosco recognized this one right off. He could sing the words: “Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone…” “Fire and Rain.” By the depressed, drug-addicted, nasal droner, James Taylor.

“This is nuts.” Rosco turned to Buff, smoke hanging dark and low over the field.

“We ain’t leavin’. This is history,” he slurred, thick tongued and sleepy. “History.”

Goose came on and closed the game out. Three up, three down. Sox won 8-6. It was midnight.

Rosco roused The Buff.

“What!” He awoke throwing punches.

“Game’s over. It’s midnight.”

“Who won?”

“We did. eight to six.”

“Goose come on?”

“Yep, slammed the door.”

“Knew it.” Buff closed his eyes and slunk back into his seat.

“Let’s go. For Chrissake!” Rosco was done.

“Nope.” Buff folded his heavy arms and dug deeper into his undersized seat.

“Midnight! It’s midnight.” Rosco grabbed his friend’s meaty arm.

“Look.” Buff pointed to the smoky sky. “Beautiful, like in ‘Nam.”

“You hate that shit. Brings back memories.”

“Not tonight. I’m with you.”

The sky flared with streaking lights. The heavens boomed. Sulfur filled the air. Midnight and the fireworks had just started.

“Can’t miss this.” Buff settled into his seat and waved over the Old Style man, who was supposed to be shut down for the night. “One for me and one for my buddy.” He pointed at Rosco, generous with his friend’s wallet. The thumbless beer guy popped two and slid them down the seats. “Keep the change,” Buff yelled. The vendor nodded, slipping a few crumpled bills into his pocket.

“Thanks.” The guy yelled back.

Buff slumped back into his green wooden seat. By the time the beer reached them, he was out.

Balancing two Old Styles, through the haze, Rosco looked down on his war-torn friend, twisted like a contortionist, in a seat not big enough for someone half his size, sound asleep, a Camel dangling from his cracked lips, crusted onions still decorating his black beard.

Rosco let him rest. He needed it. He had served.

The sky aglow, rockets shooting into the heavens, bombs bursting in air.

Harry, exhorting the crowd with drunken cheers from the loudspeakers.

The stadium lights slowly illuminated the stands. The Buff did not stir.

Finally, all had departed. Now, only the two of them, high up in the left field bleachers.

A buck a seat.

Smoke rested low over the field.

Still his friend did not stir.

He had served. He had served us well.

#Fiction #Chicago Fiction

0 notes