Kristin Cashore's Blog, page 66

Silence

I'm reading a book that's gutting me and I can't put it down; I had to hide it under a pile of blankets today in order to get any work done; and I think you should read it, too. It's called Hush and it's by Eishes Chayil, which is a pseudonym that means woman of valor in Yiddish.

A teenaged woman in a Hasidic community in Brooklyn, preparing herself for marriage, remembers an act of abuse within the community that she witnessed years ago. Today, she considers telling the truth about what she saw -- but knows that the consequences of doing so will be catastrophic, because her community insists on silence and has many, many mechanisms built into its social structure to enforce that silence. This is a book about a crime against a child, a tragedy, and a spectacularly unjust cover-up, and (like all the best books) it's about a lot of other things, too. It's beautifully written and completely believable (and also wickedly funny in places). I have no idea what's going to happen, but I know that I won't fall asleep tonight until I finish it, and I know it's going to be hard. Here is the Kirkus review, which contains spoilers (hence, I haven't read it myself). Here is an interview with the author.

(Thank you, R and D, for helping me understand whether "Eishes Chayil" is Hebrew or Yiddish.) (The answer: kind of both!)

******
We had quite the snowstorm on Wednesday. I had nowhere I needed to be and no car to worry about, so it was a stress-free storm for me. With a Netflix DVD to return, I decided to try to catch the last pick-up at the blue mailbox on my corner, even though I wasn't particularly confident that the post office was picking up mail. I went outside and it was SO QUIET. My street is never quiet. I threw my DVD into the mailbox and stood staring at this row of cherry trees on my block that are always doing something pretty, every season of the year. The falling snow was swift, fine, and dry; consequently, it was creating the most amazing SKINNY, SKINNY WALLS of snow on top of each tree branch. Like, an eight-inch-tall sliver of snow balanced on top of each skinny little branch. It made me so happy. As I wandered away, the mail truck trundled into view. :-)

I walked to the river before going inside again; everything was so WHITE and silent. If you're familiar with Memorial Drive in Cambridge, you'll understand how surreal it was to stand in the middle of it, look around at all the whiteness, and have everything be so silent.

It was very different from, but reminded me of, another walk I took once in a storm.

While I walked, I was trying to figure out how to insert a particular thing into the scene I was writing. I was trying to convey something important about one of my characters, a factoid that needed to be clear and definite to the reader, but reach the reader in a gentle, muted, subtle way. Standing around in the snow, I figured out what the problem was: it wasn't time yet. I could convey this thing that I wanted to convey, but not now: if I tried to do it in this scene, it would seem forced. I needed to be patient, let it go, and have faith that the right moment would present itself later in the book.

A beautiful walk solves everything.

******
ETA 1:50AM: Hush is wonderful to the last line. Do read it.

But Tonight I'm Cleaning Out My DVR

So, I'm always in search of good TV, but if it's too good, it tends to sit in my DVR for a while before I work up the mental energy to watch it. At the end of a long day, it's easier to watch a so-so episode of something crappy than pretty much anything PBS ever airs, know what I mean? Except that I'm kind of ruthless about axing shows from my recording schedule if they start to bore me -- Chuck started boring me recently and, unthinkably, I also realized I was ceasing to care How He Met Their Mother -- Leverage almost lost me with their Christmas episode, but the season finale (read: Eliot) brought me back -- Grey's Anatomy lost me SO long ago, when the writers destroyed the WONDERFUL character of Izzie so thoroughly and CONTEMPTIBLY that I began to wish she would die but then she took too long to do so and then DIDN'T AT ALL -- and then there are the shows I'm dying to find time to watch, but I want to start them from the beginning, like Mad Men and Friday Night Lights, which, incidentally, I think of every time I look at my aloe plant (because in one of the early episodes, Mrs. Taylor is carrying around the most enormous aloe plant ever, and when I expressed my amazement at its size to my sister: secret codename Apocalyptica, she said something very funny about Coach Taylor perhaps getting scratched up a lot more than the average man) and a bunch of my friends swear on Community and I was kind of fascinated/horrified by the first season of The Tudors BUT, I have completely lost track of this sentence.

What I'm trying to say is, I had a whole pile of PBS shows on my DVR that I'd been neglecting -- until recently, when I ran out of anything else I cared to watch. And now I've watched them. And am about to recommend them with great enthusiasm.

Sherlock (BBC/Masterpiece Mystery, starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock, Martin Freeman as Watson, and Rupert Graves as Lestrade).
(Three 90-minute episodes.)
OMG. Sherlock Holmes in the 21st century! I laughed and laughed. Martin Freeman is priceless as Watson, Benedict Cumberbatch just right (and looks perfect) and Rupert Graves... kinda... yummy (remember Lucy's goofy brother Freddy who plays the piano in Room with a View?). So much fun, and it seems like they've set it up to come back with a second series. Yay!



Wallander (BBC/Masterpiece Mystery, based on the Swedish detective novels by Henning Mankell, starring Kenneth Branagh and a FABULOUS supporting cast which includes Sarah Smart (I like her) and the adorably coiffed Tom Hiddleston).
(Two series, each with three 90-minute episodes.)
Swedish cop Kurt Wallander is a gentle soul who would be a lot less stressed out all the time if he weren't so superlatively skilled at demystifying humanity's most violent, desperate, and horrific behavior. He is a detective to the core, but it's so hard on him. His heart is always breaking and it turns out he's not so good at managing his own problems. Though, SRSLY, if I were indirectly responsible for as many deaths as he is, or if I were always coming so close to saving people but then failing the way he does, I do not know how I would cope. These episodes are just gorgeously filmed (I want to go to Sweden!) and also well-acted (by everybody). Great characters, and while I like some episodes more than others, each has its stunning moments. These are dark and grim murder mysteries that will not leave you full of cheer. I love them. If all cops were like Wallander... well, the cops would be traumatized and not coping well with life, but the rest of us would be a lot safer ^_^. If you watch these shows, you'll become very familiar with Wallander's ringtone. Trust me.



Circus (documentary, by the filmmakers Show of Force).
(Six 60-minute episodes.)
"The magic is in you. What we're doing is triggering a response." -- That's a quote from Paul Binder, founder and artistic director of the Big Apple Circus. This show is magical, gorgeous, melancholy, scary, and I'm not going to be able to do it justice here. It's about ordinary and extraordinary people in the most ordinary and extraordinary circumstances and it made me cry, over and over, with how beautiful it was. You fall in love with a lot of these people, and even the ones you don't like are fascinating. There is so much in here about how a few seconds of beauty and perfection is worth all the shit that comes before and all the shit that comes after. This show is about everything, and I just love love LOVE it. When I got to the end of the final episode, I was bereft.



So. The only problem with all of this TV love is that I have not actually managed to clean out my DVR, because I can't bear to delete anything.

Happy watching, everyone :o)

In Which I Can't Even Come up with a Subject Line

I'm a tad bit disappointed with my new outside stick-on-the-window thermometer. Its little suction cups work excellently and it has a cute picture of a bird on a thistle, but it's been telling me all weekend that the outside temperature is 122°F (50°C). This is not helpful.

I had a big, ambitious post planned for today, all about TV shows I recommend, but then I sat down to "spend a few minutes" pulling together some preliminary tax numbers for 2010. Six hours later, I staggered from my office desperate for it to end, tripped over my yoga ball, landed on my foam roller, then lay on the kitchen floor for a while, bemoaning all existence.

*bemoan*

The Horn Book Magazine did something super-cool in their latest issue: they published an article about fat politics in YA literature! Go read "YA Fatphobia" by Kathryn Nolfi, right here. And if you'd like to read a good reaction piece, Rebecca Rabinowitz wrote one here. This is not a small thing. I'm really, really happy that the Horn Book published this article.

Good heavens! I keep forgetting that it's ALA weekend. I'd like to send a hug out today to anyone who's been receiving phone calls from awards committees, and especially to anyone who hasn't. Someday, when I'm not trying to dictate from my kitchen floor, I'll organize my thoughts about the phenomenon of book awards, and post them here. They're not simple things, awards.

I hope to be back with more energy on Thursday.

And my heart goes out to everyone affected by the horrible events in Arizona.

In Which I Resolve Things (and Make Another Attempt at My Pullover)

Trapeze photos ahead!

So, this time of year, if it feels right to me, I come up with a few resolutions that make me happy, are designed to bring me peace, and sometimes even take away some of the pressure I've been feeling. They're always realistic, and they are never, ever, EVER punishing or self-loathing. (I don't believe in self-limiting New Year's resolutions. This is probably a reaction to the explosion of fat-phobic resolutions so many people make this time of year that give me the heebie-jeebies. Have you heard about the New Year's ReVolution against weight-loss resolutions?)

This year, I find myself with four.
I'm going to finalize Bitterblue this year. And I'm going to start writing something new. I think both Bitterblue and I are looking forward to this.I'm going to bake some bread this year. Do you know how long it's been since I kneaded bread? I haven't made bread once since I moved back to Massachusetts, and it's one of my most favoritest activities. So.I'm going to catch my pullover this year. This would be a modest resolution for most flying trapeze students -- a whole year to learn a new trick? -- and it probably won't take me all year, but, well, I've mentioned before that I have TOS, and it's been kind of horrible for some time now (due to Bitterblue), and if I can't grip, I can't trapeze, and if my arms aren't at full strength, I can't muscle myself into the correct position for my pullover. But. I've gotten close enough to (almost, kind of, sort of, partway) doing this trick (almost, sort of, approaching) right(ish) (barely) to know that someday, on a strong day and after a few more lessons, I will be able to catch my pullover. I invite you to peruse the pictures of my most recent (disastrous) attempt (below).It's been a difficult few months for my hands/arms/TOS. This year, I'm making some aggressive changes to the way I do things, with the intention of being smarter and kinder to my hands, arms, and shoulders. No more typing anything over a few sentences -- I'm going to rely on my voice recognition software much more heavily -- and that's only one of the changes I'm making. I'm not going to list them all here, because frankly, they're boring. The point is that I want to be able to write, pick up my nieces, open beer bottles, haul luggage, and take flying trapeze lessons a year from now. Therefore, it's time to suck it up and start doing more WISE things even if they're a pain in the ass. Friends and family who are reading this? If you get an e-mail from me that contains no capitalization? That is the sign that I'm typing, not dictating. I give you permission to yell at me. (Though no one is required to yell at me, of course. My friends are not responsible for policing my resolutions.)

And now! On to our pictures. This class was a little bit of an experiment for me. My arms and hands weren't feeling great, but I decided to fly anyway, just to see how it went. I was delighted to find that I had no problem whatsoever with my grip. I was less delighted with my decreased arm/shoulder strength and with how fast I got tired. I took a lot of breaks and made sure not to do anything that would hurt myself or make things worse. Anyone watching would think that I didn't make much progress on my pullover, but the truth is that every time you go up there, you're making progress, because you're teaching your body to become incrementally more comfortable with a lot of very strange feelings. Anyway. If you'd like a refresher, here's what a pullover is supposed to look like (scroll down to the 10-the second video), and here's what my first attempt looked like.

Attempt number two! (Click to enormify.)

Look at the confidence, look at the competence.

 Look at the imitation of a Dr. Seuss character.

  See, here's the thing. I think the way everyone else does this trick is really boring, so I've added this new step, see? No, contain your amazement, I'm a writer, we're creative people.

 Listen, you'd fall out of position too if you were attacked by a Chalk Monster!

Kaz just yelled up at me to relax. "Relax," he said. Why would he think I'm not relaxed? WHO WOULDN'T BE RELAXED IN THIS SITUATION?


Gah this is so [bleep]ing hard today!
 
ZOMFG I did it!
 
Time for catching. When in doubt, go for the trusty set split.
 
Erin and I were destined to make this catch, on account of our combined sock power.
 
For the first time ever, I'm remembering to keep my feet together. While forgetting to arch my back. Sigh...
 
One of these days, my body will learn that if I persist in resisting landing on my back, I will continue to leave class with whiplash. ONE OF THESE DAYS. Just not today.
 
Thanks to Wendy, Kaz, and Erin for teaching a great class; thanks to Erin for catching and understanding the importance of The Right Socks; and thanks to Molly for taking pictures!

Notes for the New Year

I kind of love New Year's. Other holidays make me grumpy, but the new year makes me all contemplative and stuff. I'm thinking about my resolutions for this year, and will probably post something about that soon.

To my readers in Germany: I'll be visiting you this March (yay!), in Cologne, Leipzig, and possibly other places I don't want to name yet until I've confirmed them. (Fire is coming out in Germany this month -- Die Flammende -- you're looking at the cover to the right ^_^.) Also, to my readers in Australia (and maybe even New Zealand, though I'm not sure yet if I'll be able to swing that): a writer friend of mine has talked me into some travel Down Under in late May or early June. I'm extremely disorganized about planning it at the moment but fully intend it to happen. (It didn't take much for her to talk me into it. Basically, she said, "I'm doing some events in Australia. Wanna come?" and I was all, "YEE-HAW!") I'll post more updates about both of these trips as soon as I have more information.

A lot of you have been waiting patiently for news about Bitterblue. The news is that I continue to work very, very hard on getting her into shape, she continues to be the most difficult book I've ever written, and I hope to have more substantial news about timing before too long. I'm very grateful to everyone who isn't telling me to write faster. I promise you, I could not possibly write faster, I can feel the pressure whether you express it to me or not, and you do me and Bitterblue a kindness if you don't.

Relatedly -- whenever I'm going through a period of being ruthless with my own writing (which is most of the time, lately), I find I can't turn that tendency off when I'm reading, which means that I become ruthless with other people's novels as well -- which isn't relaxing, and also makes me feel like I'm working all the time. Consequently, I've been reading more nonfiction than usual recently, and also rereading some of the novels I love the most. I trust my love of them, realize that my hypercriticalness is unfair as I read them, and also know that they can take the abuse -- and might even help me loosen up a little. I just finished rereading The Tricksters, by Margaret Mahy, which happens to be the book my blog is named after (look at the sidebar on the left if you're curious about what I mean). Some of the sentences in that book make me gasp.
Then they both rushed to cuddle Crumb, though neither of them had wanted to travel in the same car with him because he cried aloud in great, hollow, melodious miaows all the time the car was moving. However, he was so furious at having been confined to a box that he began hissing in little spurts, like a kettle with a slight leak, and ran in under the house where he crouched, staring out at them with a malignant smile. p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; "Much better!" Benny agreed, shooting out a spray of cracker crumbs. "Sorry!" he mumbled, breathing them in and then beginning to choke. But then, somewhere above them, the sky opened and the rain poured straight down. There was no warning. One moment it was dry, then next the air was ruled with lines of water. They were both soaked within seconds. Streams flowed down over Harry's cheeks and throat. The end of her nose dripped like a faulty tap. They were both astonished to find the outside world capable of touching them in any way, when a moment ago it had felt that they had exclusive rights to act on each other. p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; } In fairy tales people put on cloaks of beauty and dread and wonder, but Harry wanted to draw wonder up out of herself. So expressive. *flops*

A song I've been listening to a lot lately: "Viola," by Girlyman. (Scroll down to the album "remember who i am" and click on "Viola" for a clip.)

Happy new year, everyone :o).

December Rundown

A Text Message from My Sister, Secret Codename: Cordelia
I've decided we should make gingerbread people with the girls while ur here. We'll put down a tarp. 

An Email from my Sister, Secret Codename: Apocalyptica the Flimflammer
For Christmas I am making Mom and Dad a present that involves seashells. Yesterday I went for a very long walk along the beaches of Swampscott that felt more like a safari than a walk, because my shoes were full of water and my nose was freezing off (clearly I've never been on a safari).  I found a myriad of fantastic shells, and chief among my favorites were a bunch of empty mussel shells that had other smaller shells of various colors anchored to them, so that they looked liked fantastical hybrids. I brought them home, washed and dried them, and left them on my bathroom counter overnight. Today I spread twenty-five shells all around my work surface and started working with rubber cement. At a certain point, something moved in my peripheral vision and caused me to start. I took a good look around, but didn't see anything unusual, so I kept working. A few minutes later, I had the same sense of some small movement on the table. This time I noticed, to my absolute horror, that one of the shells I had thought was permanently cemented to a mussel shell had lifted itself up off of the mussel shell and was LOOKING AT ME. Then I noticed that another was doing the same thing, on a different shell! OK, they didn't have eyeballs, but they were very clearly looking at me. I absolutely freaked out and started screaming, "OH MY GOD! YOU'RE ALIVE!" At first I was freaking out because I was scared, but shortly I began freaking out because I felt so terrible that I had stolen these living creatures off the beach and kept them away from the water for more than a day, AND exposed them to rubber cement fumes AND had been planning to murder them with my art project! So then I started screaming, "OH MY GOD, YOU NEED SALINE WATER!" and I filled a gigantic bowl with water and poured a ton of salt in and stuck all of the mussel shells in the water. And ALL OF THE LITTLE SHELLS ON ALL OF THE MUSSEL SHELLS GOT UP AND STARTED ZOOMING AROUND. It was like watching a traffic circle from above. I kept working for a few hours, and brought the bowl over so I could talk to them all while they zoomed around, and I became very fond of them. Every once in a while I nervously added more salt. Then in the evening I brought them back to the ocean and slipped them into the water.

A Text Exchange Between me and Cordelia As I Was Packing for Florida (Because I've Learned Never to Assume Anything When Visiting a House Where Live 16-Month-Old Twins)
ME: Do u have shampoo & conditioner 4 my lovely locks?
CORDELIA: Oh u got a wig?

A Pretend Phone Conversation Involving My 16-Month-Old Niece, Secret Codename: Isis, Who Was Holding Her Shoe to Her Ear
ISIS: [with enthusiasm] Hello?  Hello!  Up!

To all my readers: Happy New Year. I wish you love, peace, humor, and cookies!

Some Links for a Nearly-Solstice Monday

I just wanted to let you all know that my blog break is going excellently.  (How would you know unless I blogged it?)

My publisher in Taiwan (Gaea) is releasing Graceling again with a new jacket that a lot of you will find familiar. Click to enbiggen -------->

I've been reading some good blog posts lately and wanted to share a few:
Tamora Pierce posting about a female blogger "who writes about and wears clothes that don't make her look like Snooki, Beyoncé, or Miley Cyrus. Leandra Medine wears clothes that aren't meant to draw the male eye." Read more here.Tamora Pierce (again!) posting about self defense from pervos in crowded spaces. "You know something? You have every right to stand or walk along, thinking your thinks, listening your music, without some s**tpoke waving his willie at you. If he's gonna ruin your day, don't you think you should do your best to ruin his?"  Read more here.Tamora Pierce (again again! She is unstoppable!  In addition to being one of my favorite writers!) with a follow up about how, on the other hand, there is nothing wrong with you if you're unable to defend yourself from/respond to an attacker. "Nobody knows how she'll react in an emergency, and our reactions to different kinds of emergencies are different. And if you do nothing? Sometimes nothing is all you can do. Sometimes nothing is the right thing to do. You do what you have to. And we'll be here, happy to see you. We won't condemn. None of us knows how we'd react, until we're in that position. And no one has ANY right to point a finger at someone else." Read more here.On a lighter note, Tui Sutherland's last post, "Shopping Is Hard! Let's Do Math Instead!" cracked me up. Want to read a funny store about Barbie and G.I. Joe, get some writing tips, and see pictures of one of the world's cutest babies? Then go here.Also? Don't Ask Don't Tell, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

Happy solstice, everyone.  :o)

Pop and Locking In Today...

...with an important song about friends.  Thanks to my friends, codename: B-P and the PBs. :o)



Also, best of luck to my favorite a cappella group on the show The Sing Off : Street Corner Symphony. Here they are singing Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire." (Kids? Don't even THINK about trying that at home!)

Okay, away I go until January.  I swear.

December: In Like a Stressed-Out Lion, Out Like a Stressed-Out Lamb

Oh, December. At least you're predictable.

Last year, I took most of December off from the blog. This year, I might as well turn it into a tradition. I don't know about you, but for me, December is always twice as much month as any other month, and I have a whole lot to do before I'm ready to get on an airplane and venture to a yet-to-be-determined location for Christmas. For example, I need to determine a location. :o)   Anyway, between trapezing and Bollywood, my last few posts were so long that some of you might need all of December to read them.

One note to anyone thinking about buying signed copies of Graceling or Fire as Christmas presents: I'm pretty sure I'm going to be 1,158 miles away from my local bookseller during the week before Christmas... *measures arm* ...way too far away for me to reach the title page with my pen, so get those orders in soon.

To those who have celebrated, are celebrating, or will be celebrating a holiday: peace and joy to you. For the many of you who do not celebrate Christmas yet feel it shoved in your face: I'm sorry about the noise and the assumptions you might be navigating, and I wish you extra peace.  For those who do celebrate Christmas yet feel it shoved in your face: take a breath; bravely resist the madness wherever you can; look for perspective. For those lucky people who love this time of year regardless of what or whether they celebrate: bless your hearts.  Northern hemisphere people: happy winter. Southern hemisphere people: happy summer. People in the middle: stay cool. Northern latitudes people with seasonal affective disorder: hang in there, the shortest day of the year is nigh!  Hibernating bears: sweet dreams. Peace, everyone!

The Blog: Bollywood Edition

And now I would like to offer a few more movie recommendations for the uninitiated, from the only-recently initiated.  I've never been one for plot summary. Instead, I'll tell you a snippet about what struck me, while also trying to convey a little something about why Bollywood has captured my heart.  (BTW -- if you're only going to watch one -- skip to the end of the list.)

In no particular order:

Dil To Pagal Hai ("The Heart Is Crazy").  This movie contained a lot of silly stuff about fate, a very silly ending, and some spectacularly silly scenes of people frolicking in fields, including a few places where Madhuri Dixit throws herself to the ground with romantic abandon, except that every time, it looks like she just tripped, so you're worried, until you realize that she is prostrate due to being enraptured rather than injured. Despite all that silliness, three things in this movie charmed me completely.  (1) It's a movie about a dance troupe; consequently, the dancing is really, really good. (2) By the end of the movie, I just adored the character of Nisha (played by Karisma Kapoor). There's a scene where she's angry with god and yells at the sky; I loved it, and also loved Rahul for being such a good friend to her (a lot of people in his situation wouldn't be). (3) The song/dance "Koi Ladki Hai" wins the prize for cuteness, in addition to which, it demonstrates one of my favorite things about Bollywood movies: they use monsoons to great dramatic effect ^_^.  Watch it here -- really, do -- and as you watch it, keep in mind these lyrics. The children sing: "With the gait of a horse, with the majesty of an elephant, O king of the rains, where are you from?" The guy sings: "I know a girl, when she smiles, it rains." The girl sings: "I know a boy, when he sings it rains."  So cute! I especially love the part where they go to the hospital to cheer up Nisha, who sneaks out against her doctors' orders. I... can't explain the part where they roll Shah Rukh Khan back and forth on a table. Just... don't ask me.  This movie is directed by Yash Chopra and stars Karisma Kapoor, Shah Rukh Khan, and Madhuri Dixit.

Kal Ho Naa Ho ("Tomorrow May Never Come"). This movie is hysterically funny both when it means to be and when it doesn't.  The actress Preity Zinta stole my heart in this one. Shah Rukh Khan wears a pair of orange cargo pants at one point that should be banned, but I forgive him completely due to this dance at the best engagement party ever. This movie is directed by Nikhil Advani and stars Preity Zinta, Shah Rukh Khan, and Saif Ali Khan.

Chalte Chalte ("While Walking"). This movie is funny and surprisingly sweet-but-not-too-sweet. It includes a moment I love love LOVE when the man, Raj, is crying, and the woman, Priya, goes to him to see what's wrong. His response: "I just felt like crying."  One thing I love about Bollywood is that tears are not a sign of weakness. Strong people, both men and women, are always crying.  And then they get up and do strong things, just like a lot of frequent criers do in real life.  I just love this! Chalte Chalte is directed by Aziz Mirza and stars Shah Rukh Khan and Rani Mukerji (whose name I've seen transliterated in various ways: Mukherjee, Mukherji, Mukerjee).

Veer-Zaara . Another movie that uses the monsoon to great dramatic effect, in a gorgeous and dramatic scene that is peppered with the world's most hilarious subtitled lyrics.  For example, "A besotted lover has appeared at your door" and "Your love story has reached a critical juncture." I don't know how accurate these translations are, or, if accurate, whether the sentiment is as funny/sweet in Hindi as it is in English -- in this sense, the movie I watch will always be different from the movie a Hindi-speaker watches -- but the surprising use of language is one of the things I love about these movies. It's especially touching when a dramatic or sad scene is awkwardly expressed in the English subs.  Somehow, the feeling still comes across and lodges itself in my heart even as I'm laughing. With Veer-Zaara, I'm not kidding about the beauty and the drama -- this movie is sad and powerful (and very, very long.  I mean, they're all long, but some feel longer than others). This movie is directed by Yash Chopra and stars Shah Rukh Khan (in the role of Veer), Preity Zinta (in the role of Zaara), and Rani Mukerji (IMO, in the role of the hero!).

Billu . Billu is a barber who claims to have once been friends with the man who is now the country's biggest movie star -- and now that superstar has come to town to shoot a movie.  The superstar character, named Sahir Khan and played by Shah Rukh Khan, actually made me uncomfortable at times, because someone made the directorial decision to reference Shah Rukh Khan's real-life fame and real-life resumé (rather than giving his character a made-up resumé), which kept kicking me out of the pretend world of the movie.  For example, Sahir Khan wears a coat that says "King Khan" across the back -- well, that's one of Shah Rukh Khan's real-life nicknames.  And posters of Sahir Khan's movies are hanging all over the town -- but actually, they're posters of Shah Rukh's real-life movies. Add to this the way Sahir Khan is utterly revered to the point of absurdity, and Sahir's Khan's seeming arrogance about the level of reverence afforded him (though only in the beginning of the movie), and it started to feel a little bit gross.  On the other hand, it did say some interesting things about the surreality of Shah Rukh Khan's actual celebrity, which is, IMO, one of the most fascinating fame phenomena currently happening in the world. I'm just not sure that that particular commentary fit into this movie. It overwhelmed the Billu portions of the movie at times, and a similar point about the surreality of fame could have been made without real-life SRK being referenced so often. I wonder what the movie would have been like if SRK had played the barber and Irrfan Khan the superstar?  The reason to watch this movie -- aside from the fame stuff that will give you a lot to think about -- is Irrfan Khan's sweet and understated performance as Billu the barber.  It's directed by Priyadarshan and stars Irrfan Khan, Shah Rukh Khan, and Lara Dutta -- AND -- for those hesitant to sit down to a 3-hour film -- this one clocks in at a tidy 2 hours and 17 minutes.

Dhoom ("Blast"). Um. I didn't actually love this movie.  But I thought it was time I showed some evidence that I do watch Bollywood movies that don't star Shah Rukh Khan. :D?  This one had motorcycles and badass cops and robbers and I got a little tired of the way the women were depicted.  But I liked actor Uday Chopra. He's a goofball. Plus, this movie was referenced in a couple of other movies I saw, and it was nice to get the references. Dhoom was very successful in India; Dhoom 2 has since been released. It was directed by Sanjay Gadhvi and stars Abhishek Bachchan, Uday Chopra, John Abraham, Esha Deol, and Rimi Sen.

Swades ("Homeland"). To counteract the icky, this movie has a woman named Gita, played by Gayatri Joshi, whose head is in the right place.  Of course, the man is still the hero.  You weren't thinking otherwise, were you? You crazypants you!  But I really, really liked Gita.  Directed by Ashutosh Gowariker and starring Joshi and -- all together now -- Shah Rukh Khan as Mohan, an engineer working for NASA who goes back home to India for a visit. Shenanigans ensue.  I wonder what Indians thought of this movie? As I watched it, I wished I had an Indian cultural understanding of all that was going on. Gita accuses Mohan of being a "Non-Returning Indian" at one point, which is a play on the acronym "NRI," which means "Non-Resident Indian." There was clearly political, economic, and cultural stuff going on that I wasn't getting completely. I was also dealing with my own discomfort with movies in which a person from the USA goes to some distressed part of the world and saves that place with his "superior American-ness." That happens so often in American movies and it usually grosses me out.  But this wasn't an American movie, this was an Indian movie, and the man who brings positive change is not actually American, he's Indian.  My triggers don't know what to do with that.  The wikipedia article is interesting. Apparently Swades it was well-received critically in India but a flop at the box office. There seems to be ambivalence.  Anyway, I liked the characters and relationships.

Devdas (the version directed by Sanjay Leela Bhansali). I'm not going to say, "Poor Devdas," because Devdas is cruel, pathetic, and destructive -- but don't take that to mean that I didn't care about him or love the movie. This is the first Bollywood movie to make me cry my eyes out. It's based on a book by Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay that I haven't read, and there are earlier movie versions that I haven't seen.  This version is apparently quite different, and one complaint I've read is that in this version, the prostitute (Chandramukhi) and the high-class lady (Paro), both of whom love Devdas, become friends with each other, which never happened in the original.  Well.  That was actually my favorite thing about the movie.  I liked that the women had lives and relationships of their own and could recognize that they had something in common at heart despite drastically different social standings (though ironically identical social circles); I liked that while Devdas went off and destroyed himself, he couldn't quite destroy them, because they were, in fact, in touch with the parts of themselves that weren't about him. It's hard to know what happens after the credits roll -- Paro, in particular, is in a desperately depressing situation -- but I was left with the feeling that she would make sure life continued somehow.  Am I grasping at straws if I think Paro and Chandramukhi have lives outside Devdas?  Maybe.  Iffy, overly-optimistic interpretations happen sometimes when you hate systemic sexism in the media but love movies and want to be comfortable loving movies.  Sometimes you try to convince yourself that female characters are more fully-realized characters, more relevant, than they actually are; sometimes you want to believe that the women in whatever movie you're watching are strong and that they matter, just because you're so tired of so many other movies where they're not and don't. (You know what? That feels like something worth yelling.  IT'S HARD IN THIS WORLD WHEN YOU HATE SYSTEMIC SEXISM AND LOVE MOVIES.  SOMEONE FIX THIS PROBLEM SO THAT WE CAN CONTINUE TO LOVE MOVIES BUT NOT FEEL SO TIRED ALL THE TIME ABOUT WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT WOMEN IN THE WORLD.) But I don't think I'm imagining what I saw in Devdas.  I saw strength in Paro, in Chandramukhi, and in Paro's mother, too. Directed by Bhansali and starring SRK, Madhuri Dixit, and Aishwarya Rai.

And finally.  FINALLY! Are you ready for this?

Om Shanti Om . Oh, my word.  I don't even know where to start.  If you're only ever going to watch one Bollywood movie, watch this one.  If you're going to watch a few, watch this one last so that you're better able to get the inside jokes. This movie is about the Bollywood film industry -- it takes place on Bollywood film sets -- and as such, it parodies its own art form.  This give the movie license to be even MORE over the top and even MORE ridiculous than these movies usually are.  It's hilarious, it's completely sweet, it's beautiful and flashy, and when you buy the DVD, it comes with this hysterical foldout poster of a shirtless Shah Rukh Khan that I don't know what to do with because I'm no longer in high school and therefore don't have a locker.  This movie is awesome.  There are no words.  And there are a few specific things about it that make me really happy.  For example, it was directed by a kickass woman, Farah Khan (who directed Main Hoon Na, which I've plugged here before). Also, in this movie's item number (follow the link for a definition), instead of the usual item girl slinking around pointlessly, there's an item boy, and gracious me, he embraces his item-ness with the appropriate fervor.  This movie, and especially that song/dance I just linked to, could be the dictionary definition for "over the top."  Some of the lyrics: "There was a time when flowers were blooming all around.... What a time, when I was drunk on youth! But that time was short and I got hurt. Now I'm a wanderer, and a lover of disco, and as I wander around, my heart is full of the pain of disco.  Pain of disco, pain of disco, my heart is full of the pain of disco!" When I watched it with a friend last week, she kept saying "OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD."  If you watch it, be sure to appreciate the "earth-wind-water-fire" theme. The special features are also worth watching, and are even subtitled, so you won't get a headache from people switching from Hindi to English and back again five times in the course of a single sentence. Watch the bloopers.  It's really funny to see SRK cracking up while filming "Dard e Disco."  Oh -- and in Om Shanti Om, unlike in Billu, all the reference to the actual lives of SRK and of many other real-life actors feel completely adorable and appropriate, rather than distracting. And the fate stuff that's so common in Bollywood movies and often has me rolling my eyes -- that also fit perfectly into this movie.  Directed by Farah Khan, starring SRK and introducing Deepika Padukone, who I thought did a wonderful job.  WATCH THIS MOVIE.

(Relatedly, my friend and fellow writer Sarah Prineas just got back from India and has a fun Om Shanti Om-related story -- read about it here. ^_^)

Goodness, this post is so long.  I was going to mention more movies (there are some really important ones I haven't mentioned yet!) and also list some of the books I'm reading, but I've already been going on for way too long, so I'll merely mention the book sitting next to me at this very moment: The Cinematic ImagiNation: Indian Popular Films as Social History, by Jyotika Virdi.  I'm trying to educate myself so that I can better understand what I'm watching.  I have no doubt that I'll post about Bollywood again.  And next time, it probably won't be All Shah Rukh All The Time.  He has been my gateway drug, but I've got a bunch of movies in my queue now that star other people. I solemnly swear that this is true.

Penultimately, a disclaimer: the term "Bollywood" makes a lot of people unhappy. It's a name that wasn't chosen by the industry itself -- I've read in the Virdi book and elsewhere that it was invented by the Indian English press -- and as such, it sort of suggests that Bollywood is Hollywood's poor cousin, or its imitator, or that Bollywood's identity depends, in some large way, on Hollywood, none of which are true.  Unfortunately, the term has stuck and is used now by the industry itself. So I use it, too, for lack of another term, and as a shortcut for the Mumbai film industry.

And finally: here are a couple rare moments of (adorable) joy from Devdas. The first is a song called "Chalak Chalak." It basically extols the merits of madeira (sample line: "this madeira rains a shower of memories"), it's sung by Udit Narayan, Vinod Rathod and Shreya Ghoshal, and it's danced here by SRK (as Devdas), Jackie Shroff (as Devdas's friend Chunnilal), and Madhuri Dixit (as Chandramukhi).


And here are my strong women, one proper lady and one prostitute, finding friendship and joy in life. This song is called "Dola Re Dola," is sung by Kavita Krishnamurthy, Shreya Ghoshal and Kay Kay, and is danced here by Aishwarya Rai (as Paro) and Madhuri Dixit (as Chandramukhi).


How I love those ladies!