David M. Brown's Blog, page 67
March 2, 2013
Book Excerpt: When it Rains: The Umbrella Collection – Prudence Hayes
Today Prudence Hayes stops by to share an excerpt from her book, When it Rains: The Umbrella Collection.
Excerpt from When it Rains: The Umbrella Collection
Chapter 1 “It’s Raining”
I feel like raindrops have been following me my whole life. Slowly dripping, tiptoeing behind me in my shadow and at other times chasing me at a downpour, drenching me as I try and dodge the wet droplets. The rain has been incorporated in my life during times when life changing events have happened and enclosed in my dreams, frightening me out of my sleep.
Ever since I was a little girl, I have hated the rain. Besides the physical pains of it all; the headaches from the pressure in the air and my bones aching, there are also the mental issues. Yes, I have plenty of mental issues. Anxiety fills my veins as the rain begins and doesn’t leave until the clouds part and the sun shines brightly. Sometimes, I catch it too late and that is when depression kicks in. There is something about the dreariness of the weather that sets me on a whirlwind mentally. With my shoulders slouched, my mind is dark and I feel incapable of living. The weather infuses itself into my mind and makes it heavy. The weight makes me sag and hang deep below my normal surface and it tends to become stagnant there, unwilling to move until I am strong enough to push, yank and tear my way out of it. Not all the time though, just the times where I don’t catch myself before I fall down those slopes.
I typically won’t leave the house or wherever I may be at the time the showers start and I plead to anyone that will listen to stay put until it ends. An unsettled feeling builds within my heart and I’m afraid that something bad will happen; scared someone will get hurt. Some people understand and some people say, to my surprise, that I have issues. I could have told them that.
In the small chance that I succumb to the constant whine of others and actually go out and live my life in the rain, I carry one of my umbrellas. I have red ones, blues ones, striped ones and polka dots. I have a lots, like my frog one, from when I was a little girl and now that I’m almost 20, I have chosen to only break those out when I want to embarrass the person I will be standing next to.
I have been collecting umbrellas since before I can remember. There’s a picture that I have from Christmas when I was two years old and I’m unwrapping the one with strawberries all over it and in the background of that photo are my frog, rainbow and duck ones leaning against the wall next to the front door, so this hoarding aspect of my character must have started before then. My closet is full of them, along with the hallway closet and it has infiltrated the attic, kicking out all the nonsense that Pops keeps. They are shoved under my bed, the trunk of my car and in boxes in the garage that has once again evicted Pops’ things. I’m still waiting for the day he freaks out on me as he pulls up in the driveway and passes all his belongings that are sitting on the curb awaiting their final trip to the landfill as I make room for my beloved umbrellas, but he seems to handle it very nicely. He practically acts as if he hasn’t noticed, so I’ll continue to do it until he screams at me. Pops is actually the one that has contributed the most to my umbrella collection. My birthday, Christmas, Hanukkah (and we aren’t even Jewish) and every other holiday you can think of, he would hand me a wrapped present in a long odd shape and it would be a brand new one. One time, he bought me one for his birthday. I thought that was a bit odd, but I graciously accepted it.
I believe my Mom and Dad were the culprits in getting this obsession started, buying me them because of my extreme loathing of the rain. There have been many major hissy fits that have occurred due to the combination of my insistence that something bad was going to happen and the reaction I had when the moistness hit my skin. So, their solution was those umbrellas. They told me it was my shield, a shield to protect me from the pain and fear I felt and I believed them wholeheartedly. When I had one in my hand covering my body, I felt nothing could hurt me. I can’t even recall the last time a raindrop touched my skin.
When I didn’t have one, especially in the house because my Mom believed the superstition, “Open an umbrella indoors and bad luck will “rain” upon you”, I used to hide under my bed at the first rap of thunder and wail at the first glimpse of a small wet mark hitting the wood that made the porch. I was under my bed so often, thanks to good ole Mother Nature, my Dad and I decked it out under there. I had shelving for my books, pictures hanging from the rails, stuffed animals galore, pink streamers for decoration, small Christmas tree lights for lighting, and pillows and blankets that I kept under there ready to go for when I needed to retreat for safety. There wasn’t much room, but it was my fortress.
When I was about 6 years old, I stole a storage box from my Dad’s bar down in the basement. The box contained little umbrellas from a Luau themed barbeque that my parents threw one summer. I remembered their friends walking around with them hanging out of their drinks all night long. I took my markers and colored each one differently, then took duct tape and fastened the newly designed umbrellas to each one of my stuffed animals’ hand, so they would be safe to. I didn’t just keep my paranoia to myself. I pushed them upon everyone and everything close to me. When my parents would leave for work, or anywhere for that fact, I would shove an umbrella in their hand. Sometimes, they would nonchalantly place them down somewhere where they would think I wouldn’t notice, but I always did and gave them an ear full when they returned. Pops on the other hand took them with great pleasure and without hesitation. When he knew I was watching out the window as he headed towards his truck, he would open it up proudly, even when it wasn’t raining and the sun shined bright. It’s kind of funny to see your Grandfather sporting a bright pink umbrella with a smiley face imprinted on it above his head while clutching a case of his favorite beer in the other, headed for a get together with his old time war buddies.
It’s not as horrible these days to exit my house while the rain falls down. I’m older now and I know it won’t physically hurt me, but I rather not. And, that is exactly what I was thinking as I was staring at the chipping paint on the bottom of my magenta colored dresser, while laying on my side across my bed listening to the sound of droplets hitting the tree outside my window. My long brown hair was strewn across my face making it so that the dresser was the only thing I could see besides the opening to my closet. My knees were brought into my chest and my hands were tightly squeezed around them. My mission was to make myself as little as I possibly could, trying to be nonexistent to everyone especially myself.
I get in these moods a lot. It seems that the frequency of their happenings comes and goes in their intensity and longevity. Sometimes, it will be a week or two before the switch takes place. Other times, it’s within minutes. The switch being my mood swings. The high flying upswing of those is a breathlessly beautiful with my face hurting from the endless amounts of smiles emitting from my face. The downward end of the moods, the back-swing, are where the trouble lies in wait, awaiting to pounce on me and wishing with its fingers crossed that I won’t be prepared. The less preparation and fight I give, the easier and longer it suffocates me.
I have been feeling like shit for a while now, hiding it the best I could from my family, but the back swing swung higher today and I wasn’t prepared at all. Hence, why I have encased myself in this position on my bed, undecided on whether or not I want to breathe again. I knew I had to get up any second because Pops wants his hair cut for his date tonight. He has enlisted me in this job ever since I’ve lived with him and we have the same spat every time because we differ on mishaps. Being that I am not a professional, it’s understandable that a mistake will occur, but his point is that I have been doing it for so long now that I should have mastered it being that he has had the same haircut forever, the typical old guy one. His hair parted on the side and combed over the top. He likes me to fix a mistake I made on his hairline and I just say “Eh, just shave it.” He always wins that battle though because he says he has a dent on the top of his head. The fact that I have one to match his makes me relent in my stance and mend my mishap.
As I lay in my spot waiting to hear his bellowing voice calling for me and bang on the wall, I was enamored by the choice in paint color whomever owned the dresser before me had chosen to paint it. Granted, I didn’t like the baby pink I had chosen when I was little, but that orangey-green puke color that was peering through under the chipping magenta and light pink made me question other people’s sanity.
My mind was flip-flopping between the nonsense of the dresser, to disappointment that air was entering my lungs, to my hair getting in my eyes. I think my head does that on purpose, trying to snap me out of my funk by focusing on mundane things such as chipping paint; the sane part that lives on inside me trying to grab my attention away from the devil in there. There was a rap of thunder coming from the heavens above that made me jump a few inches off my bed and land in the exact same spot and reconnect with the paint again.
“Nora, Let’s go!” Pops had just yelled for me shocking me out of my comatose stare.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I grumbled as I sat up groggy from lying there and maybe from the pill that I took a little before. I’m not sure what it was, it was small and white. I grabbed it from Pops’ medicine cabinet while he was at the store earlier. That’s my biggest secret, stealing pills from everyone. Pops, my uncles, cousins, and from everyone else’s house I just so happen to be in. My uncle Mike is one of my biggest suppliers. He conveniently and unknowingly delivers them to me to my doorstep. He has heart problems, stress problems, mental problems, anger problems, kidney, stomach, sleep, back, and knee problems and he is prescribed a pill for each. He carries them around with him wherever he goes in a blue backpack that he leaves by the front door when he comes over.
I took a quick peek in the mirror to wipe off the mascara that fell beneath my eyes to hide the fact that I was melted into my bed a moment before. I put my slippers and black hoodie on and headed down the steps, skipping the third one from the bottom that Pops has named “Diablo” because, for as long as I can remember, it made a high pitched creek when pressure was placed on it. Pops said it was a sound only the devil could make. So, we all avoid it as much as possible.
“What’s the big hurry? You have a hot date or something?!” I asked with a hint of laughter as I landed on the floor at the bottom of the steps in front of him because I already knew the answer.
“Yes, I do as a matter of fact and you know how she gets when I’m late and I would rather not have to hear it, so come on. Let’s go,” he had a towel around his shoulders to block the hair from getting on his clothing, his typical attire, flannel shirt that was tucked into a pair of jeans and brown loafers.
“Molly isn’t exactly ‘hot’…,”
Pops interrupted me, “Here we go again. Let’s hear it. She is ugly. She looks like a mouse. She’s annoying. Come on, let’s hear,” he stated as he led the way to the bathroom in the hall by the kitchen.
“All I am saying is that, in my opinion, she isn’t the best out of the bunch.”
Pops is a ladies’ man, always has been. There is always a different girl on his arm for every family occasion. He has a date five out of the seven days in a week. I have no clue how he keeps up with them all. They all know about each other and they all keep coming back. Things can get a little catty between them and I have heard arguments occurring on the front porch between two women when he gets the days mixed up and they both showed up to ring the doorbell. That has actually happened a few times, old age memory I’m guessing. He is old, his 80th birthday is coming up and the man has held onto his looks. He is slender for his elevated height of 6’2. His brown eyes twinkle whenever he smiles widely, but that rarely happens. An “I don’t give a shit” look is permanently fixed on his face most of the time and with that you are lucky if you get his smirk, a smirk that slants to the left side of his face and barely shows his pearly whites. He still has a full head of thick hair, too.
I have been living with him for the past thirteen years, one of which was with my parents. We moved in here with Pops when my dad, Davey, got laid off from a factory that he worked at with Pops and my uncle Mike. However, a year after we made the move they died in a car accident on their way home from Giovanni’s, a restaurant a few blocks away. So, now it’s Pops and I alone in this big old house. Well, we aren’t exactly alone all the time. His sons, my uncles, come by constantly. I’m surrounded by testosterone here; my Uncle Mike has three sons, Drew, Elijah and Brody, who are all the same age and not triplets, my Uncle Brian has one son Colin, my Uncle Alex also has a son, Evan and then there is Uncle John who doesn’t have any kids, which is surprising since he gets around just as much as Pops and Mike. He is only 4 years and 9 months older than me. Growing up with a bunch of men has definitely changed me since my mom died. The biggest being my mouth. They like to be crude and curse up a storm and sadly it has become one of my biggest flaws. I try to hold my tongue, but sometimes it gets away from me.
“Come on. She isn’t that bad. She’s a nice lady.”
“Oh, yeah she is just wonderful,” I said in a lovely tone while my eyes rolled.
“What is it you don’t like?”
“She’s a stalker, Pops!”
“No, she isn’t,” he said dumbfounded.
“Hello? Open your eyes, Man! She calls here constantly, shows up here all the time, uninvited I must add, she happens to be at almost every place you go. I’m surprised you haven’t tripped over her, yet!” I said as I flipped the switch on the razor.
“What if I like that?” he yelled over the buzzing.
“Then, you are as insane as she is.”
Pops began to laugh until I gave him a playful smack to the top of his head to eliminate the possibility of a screw up. Too late, though because his hairline wasn’t so much of a straight line anymore. I tried not to show it, but he caught my face, a face with big blue eyes that can’t hide anything, in the mirror that he sat in front of.
“What? What did you do?” he asked as his hand reached to the back of his neck to feel where I went wrong.
“No big deal. I’ll fix it,” I quickly stated with my eyes bulging out, even though I have no clue how I would unless I glued the hair back on.
“Nora!”
“Relax. Relax,” I said as I patted him on his shoulder.
As Pops relaxed more in his chair, I got to work on his hair. “So, what are you doing tonight?” Pops asked.
“I don’t know. Skylar might come over,” I replied with a shrug of my shoulders. Skylar didn’t know about that, yet. I haven’t spoken to her all day. When I’m finish up here I’ll give her a ring and I know she would come over once I tell her the way I have been feeling.
“Sounds fun. Speaking of fun, um, Molly is going to be here any minute, so can you hurry up?”
“You can’t rush perfection,” I said and took the attachment to the razor off and grabbed a larger one to replace it. I began to shave and blend the hair in the back, but with my first movement I realized, since his scalp and tiny hairs were staring at me, that I grabbed a smaller one instead. “Uh oh!” I cried as I slowly backed away from another mishap.
“What? What happened?” he questioned as he stood up closer to the mirror, trying to maneuver his head to view his bald spot in the back of his head.
“Um, do you know that sweet haircut that Marines have…Do you like it?” I slowly asked with a twisted face, scared, but already knowing, his answer.
“Eleanora May Boutilier! What the hell is wrong with you?” he said.
The thing with Pops is that he isn’t an angry man, him being mad typically lasts for 30 seconds and it’s gone and that was evident when he looked at my face which already had a half smirk upon it and burst out laughing. I reached for the little mirror to hold it in front of him while he had his back towards the big mirror and he got his first glance at his almost naked spot.
We were in hysterics until he sat back down on the chair and asked, “So, how are we going to fix this?”
“Eh, just shave it.”
Pops’ head turned very slowly towards me and there was a slight look of impatience that appeared on his face and then it was gone. “That’s the only option we have, so shave it,” he said and my mouth molded itself into a smile. Finally, I got what I wanted. I happily switched the clippers on and began to eliminate the rest of his locks.
After a few minutes, he was bald, well, not completely. He had, maybe, an eighth of an inch of his gray hair remaining. As he looked in the mirror, I did notice a bit of a dip in the middle of the top of his head, but I refrained from saying anything purely for the fact I didn’t want to feel the wrath of his 30 second evil stare again.
The doorbell rang, “Oh goodie, Molly is here. She was probably looking through the window watching us, waiting until we were done,” I mumbled under my breath.
Pops took off the towel that shielded his clothing and began wiping off the back of his neck, as I walked down the hall to open the front door and greet his guest.
“Eleanora! Hello, sweetie. How are you? Where is your Grandfather?” she said without giving me a chance to respond or invite her in, but that didn’t stop her because she was already half way up the steps going towards his room. She was wearing a dress whose color almost matched the pukey colored paint on the dresser. She’s a mousy looking older lady with shoulder length gray wavy hair that is never out of place, big ears, a pointy face, skinny, but a huge head. Seriously, she looks like a bobble-headed mouse. I’m not the biggest fan of hers, but I believe the feeling is mutual. Pops appeared beside me at the front door all ready to go and looking for Molly with a quizzical look on his face. When he looked at me about to ask where she is, I just shrugged my shoulders and pointed upward.
“James? James? Where are you, honey?” Molly rang out while she walked throughout the upstairs of the house.
She walked back to the landing and without looking downward reached for the doorknob that was nearest the steps, “Excuse me, that’s my room!” I yelled.
“Molly, I’m by the door,” Pops said as he looked at me. “Don’t start,” he uttered when he saw I was about to say something about Molly.
We heard her, more so the clanking of her heels on the hardwood stairs, make her way back towards where we were standing.
“Oh, there you…,” and then she spied his new do, “OH MY GOD! What did you do to your hair?”
“We had a little mishap while cutting my hair,” he replied as he elbowed me in the shoulder.
“Hey, it wasn’t all my fault. I told him he can’t rush perfection and he did.”
Molly gave me a smug look. I swear this lady has an underlying hatred towards me. “Well, next time, honey, I’ll just do it for you,” she said and came up to Pops and kissed him on the cheek and fixed the collar of his shirt.
“Um, no. I have been doing it since I was 10, so I’ll continue to do it, thank you.”
A snotty look, yet again, exuded from her face, “Well, we will see, I guess.”
Pops saw my face fill with anger, my eyes bug out and my mouth open to begin to say my retort, but he beat me to the punch, “I think Nora has it covered, Mol. You ready to go?”
“Oh, yes, Darling. Let’s go,” she responded and Pops gave me a wink as they made their way out the door.
“You guys have a good one,” I said as I closed the door behind them and mumbled, “Hopefully, he will make it back in one piece.”
I went back up the stairs, threw off my hoodie and slippers and jumped back into bed, landing into almost the exact same spot and position that I was in before Pops interrupted. My mind was erased of everything that had just happened, me screwing up Pops hair and Molly being Molly. Much like my position in bed, my thought process was back to where it was. Engulfed in wonderment of why I’m alive and well and the hideous orange puke paint that reminded me of Molly’s dress.
About When it Rains: The Umbrella Collection (2013)[image error]With rain chasing her at her heels and her fear of rain flowing through her veins, Nora is in a downward spiral mentally and trying to grasp onto anything that will stop her. For many years she has been trying to come to grips with her parent’s death in a car crash and a voice that she incessantly hears in her head that announces only evil.
She lives amongst a testosterone filled family; Pops, her uncles and cousins that have never wavered in their love but are often overshadowed by the darkness that overwhelms her.
With the loss of a friendship, running into the man that killed her parents, and her family confronting her about her issues, all with the sound of the voice echoing throughout, she is brought to the edge of insanity and to her breaking point. Will she win the battle in her mind or will she succumb to defeat?
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About Prudence Hayes[image error]Prudence have always been swept away in some story that was floating around and evolving in her mind, but, besides for a few times, hesitated putting them down on paper due to the fact that she was worried what others thought. Those stories and screenplays that were written down when she was younger were secretly hidden from everyone’s eyes. After 30 years, she convinced herself that the opinions of others no longer mattered and it was all about how she felt writing. The creative process can be her nemesis at times, but when it feels right, it is the love of her life.
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Book Excerpt: When it Rains: The Umbrella Collection – Prudence Hayes | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
March 1, 2013
Book Review: Useful Enemies – Richard Rashke
The answer lies in the annals of the Cold War, when fear and paranoia drove American politicians and the U.S. military to recruit “useful” Nazi war criminals to work for the United States in Europe as spies and saboteurs, and to slip them into America through loopholes in U.S. immigration policy. During and after the war, that same immigration policy was used to prevent thousands of Jewish refugees from reaching the shores of America.
The long and twisted saga of John Demjanjuk, a postwar immigrant and auto mechanic living a quiet life in Cleveland until 1977, is the final piece in the puzzle of American government deceit. The White House, the Departments of War and State, the FBI, and the CIA supported policies that harbored Nazi war criminals and actively worked to hide and shelter them from those who dared to investigate and deport them.
The heroes in this story are men and women such as Congresswoman Elizabeth Holtzman and Justice Department prosecutor Eli Rosenbaum, who worked for decades to hold hearings, find and investigate alleged Nazi war criminals, and successfully prosecute them for visa fraud. But it was not until the conviction of John Demjanjuk in Munich in 2011 as an SS camp guard serving at the Sobibor death camp that this story of deceit can be told for what it is: a shameful chapter in American history.
Riveting and deeply researched, Useful Enemies is the account of one man’s criminal past and its devastating consequences, and the story of how America sacrificed its moral authority in the wake of history’s darkest moment.
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Review: Useful Enemies
I had read Escape From Sobibor and appreciated the immense amount of work that had gone into it. It’s clear that Useful Enemies is no less of a labour of love. Beyond that, it is very difficult to compare the two books. They tell very different stories. Although both are biographical works surrounding time in the camps, the circumstances are so very different that I found it best, for the sake of clarity, to try not to think back to my reading of Escape From Sobibor.
The book tells of John Demjanjuk who, after moving to the United States, was accused of being ‘Iwan the Terrible’ who had caused immense suffering to those under his supervision. In reviewing this, and Demjanjuk’s subsequent experiences once it had been determined that he was not Iwan the Terrible, the book really covers three main areas:
1) Demjanjuk’s life, role in WWII and the Holocaust and the morality of his own actions. It also raises many questions about the strain that the allegations and trials had on Demjanjuk’s later years.
2) The psychology of false memory, needing someone to blame, needing a sense of closure. Clearly the horror of living through the Holocaust is something that is unimaginable but the book – very carefully and sensitively – questions how reliable witnesses could be after facing so much trauma and then so many years having elapsed.
3) The fallibility – or perhaps even corruption – of a US government that seemed to fail at every single turn to prosecute those they had clear and damning evidence against (providing those people could be of ‘use’ in some way) but also turned away a great number of Jewish people through cold and calculating policies, designed – if only subconsciously – to make it easier for a Nazi to enter the country than a Holocaust survivor.
As a Brit, I feel compelled to say that we in the UK were far from blameless and sadly, as a nation, even our current attitude towards immigrants in need can be extremely callous. That said, the focus of the book is largely on US practices and Demjanjuk’s trial in Israel.
Prior to reading this, I had seen an hour long documentary on Demjanjuk and after reading this, I realised it barely even touched the surface of the intricacies of this particular tale. You might initially wonder why this book is so much longer than Escape From Sobibor, when that told the story of so many. Upon reading, it becomes clear that Rashke is telling a different kind of victim’s tale. This one is so morally complicated that it is hard to know whether or not Demjanjuk was victim, persecutor, scapegoat or demon. You’ll have to draw your own conclusions.
Where Escape From Sobibor was almost black and white in its stark – and fully accurate – portrayal of innocent and evil, Useful Enemies paints a much more abstract picture. I believe you could ask 100 people about this book and every one would give you a different answer about the questions it left them with or the opinions they have. I am inclined to think that Rashke has brought some questions to the surface that really must be considered, if never fully answered.
Verdict: 4/5
(Book Source: Netgalley)
Book Review: Useful Enemies – Richard Rashke | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
Book Review: Peace on the Peninsula – Coral Russell
These article were written while at Missouri Southern State University in Joplin, MO. All profit from the sale of this eBook will go towards rebuilding Joplin, MO.
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Review: Peace on the Peninsula
2013 seems to be the year of non-fiction for me. I’ve been reading everything from science to politics, from gender studies to history. When I received a copy of Peace on the Peninsula, I really didn’t have any idea what to expect. Apart from Escape from Camp 14, I have very little knowledge of the Korean Peninsula.
I enjoyed Russell’s style of writing when I read her fiction novel, Sacrifice, but I’ll be honest and admit that I wasn’t sure how it would transfer to a more serious work. If the Encyclopedia Britannica is a tuxedo clad upper class toff, I think of Russell as plaid shirt, denim clad, one hand in pocket, the other holding a tequila. In other words, she has a laid back style. Clearly, however, it is deceptive.
Russell writes with clear and evident love for the Korean people and culture and genuine concern for the future of the Peninsula. It’s evident that the research was conducted thoroughly and with great depth; however, this is not a numbers game for Russell. This is a people game, through and through. If her writing shows some informality, it is in its obvious underlying concern for this turbulent area and the struggles – past, present and future – that they contend with.
This is not a dry work of data and statistics. Russell talks about the food, the people, her own experience of living in Korea, with such a clear connection. This book matters. It matters to her.
I’m sure there are lengthier books on Korea, more replete with history and graphs, reports and statistics. I’m sure they are very good. But if you want a book with heart, pick up Peace on the Peninsula. Its simplicity and straightforward approach make the substance the key feature, and with it make the stories of the Korean people so much more meaningful.
Verdict: 5/5
(Book Source: Reviewer received copy in exchange for a fair and honest review)
Book Review: Peace on the Peninsula – Coral Russell | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
#BlogFlash2013: Day One – Laughter
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Thank you to Terri Giuliano Long for hosting another BlogFlash event. To see Terri’s post for the day (and find links for others’ pieces) visit Terri’s blog. Follow along on Twitter (@tglong and #BlogFlash2013) or Facebook.
Laughter: In Praise of Fun Kitties
Cats – Laughter (#BlogFlash2013) [see the SlideDeck]
#BlogFlash2013: Day One – Laughter | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
February 28, 2013
Film Review: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Gemma Arterton, Ben Kingsley
Directed by: Mike Newell
Runtime: 115 minutes
Studio: Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment
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Review: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
I used to play Prince of Persia on the Amiga back in the early nineties but never tried the recent collection of games that appeared on the Playstation. Mike Newell adapted elements of these games to give us Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. The story focuses on Dastan (Jake Gyllenhaal), an orphan adopted by King Shamaran of Persia (Ronald Pickup). Dastan has been raised with his brothers Tus (Richard Coyle) and Garsiv (Toby Kebbell) and his uncle Nizam (Ben Kingsley). At the outset the Persians attack the city of Alamut with Dastan being instrumental in the victory. In the ensuing battle he comes into possession of a mysterious dagger. Tamina (Gemma Arterton), the princess of Alamut, agrees to marry Tus when she sees Dastan has the dagger. Celebrations descend into scandal when Dastan is given a sacred robe to gift to his father. When the king puts on the robe it fatally burns him leading to Dastan fleeing and being accused of an assassination attempt. Dastan escapes with Tamina and when she tries to kill him he comes to realise the power of the dagger – it can turn back time. Dastan must not only clear his name but get to the heart of the intrigue that led to the king’s death.
I had my reservations about this film but was surprised at times. As soon as Jake Gyllenhaal appeared I thought he just isn’t right for this role but as the film settles he seemed to improve. After the opening battle for Alamut and the death of the king, Dastan is faced with the wrath of his brothers and seeks out Nizam for aid. After talking with Nizam, Dastan learns who has framed him and that they desire the dagger for themselves to go back and influence time. Dastan has to go far from his royal upbringing and be amongst murderers and thieves if he is going to prevent the dagger falling into the wrong hands.
Prince of Persia: Sands of Time turned out to be better than I expected but by the same token it isn’t spectacular. Gyllenhaal seemed uncomfortable early on but gradually settles into the role as our leading man. The rest of the cast provide okay support as well with Kingsley usually standing out in his films even though he’s worth much better roles than this one. There’s plenty of action, intrigue, an inevitable romance and a mysterious dagger in the heart of all that sand.
Prince of Persia: Sands of Time does not evoke the same jubilation as the game I once played in my early teens but there are some good moments. The cast are okay rather than brilliant and the predictable nature of the storyline will make you feel like you’ve been here before.
Verdict: 3/5
(Film source: reviewer’s own copy)
Film Review: Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
February 27, 2013
Game Review: Shadow of Memories
With the help of a handheld time travel device, Eike must try to change the future.
From the 16th Century to present day, time must be navigated, time lines maintained and paradoxes avoided if Eike is to have any chance of saving himself and discovering his purpose.
What is Homonculus? What is the Philosophers stone? Why would a 16th Century alchemist want it? Why is someone so keen you should live? Why is someone so keen you should die? What happens if you leave people in there wrong time?
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Review: Shadow of Memories (PS2)
Time travel has always been a popular theme whether it’s Michael J Fox leaving a trail of burning tyre prints in Back to the Future or Tom Cruise scouring the timelines for would be criminals in Minority Report. In 2001 Konami released Shadow of Memories, which explored not only the possibility of changing one’s fate but also the consequences such paradoxes could bestow upon time.
The story begins unconventionally with our hero, Eike, leaving a cafe and being stabbed in a town square. Awaking in “Darkness” – what appears to be a gateway between the living and the dead – Eike is greeted by a mysterious figure named Homunculus who gives him a time-travelling device known as a Digipad and returns Eike to life, a mere 30 minutes before his murder. What follows is an intriguing test for Eike who must firstly prevent his death and then uncover the secret and motive of his unseen assailant.
Shadow of Memories is divided into eight chapters and covers four years in history – 2001, 1980, 1902 and 1580 – with each year all taking place in the same town and contributing to the attempted murder of Eike. In each chapter Eike meets an untimely demise but through time travel can orchestrate ways to prevent his many deaths. There is a specified time limit for Eike to solve the puzzles and thwart his assailant’s plans. If the time in the present day reaches the point of Eike’s latest death then he will once again return to “Darkness” where Homunculus will permit him to try and solve the chapter again. However, if Eike is in a different time period when the deadline is reached he will be hurled into limbo and the game is over, so the option of taking things easy is not on offer here. At the start of each chapter Homunculus will offer some tips on changing your fate, but it is up to Eike to interact with the locals and his surroundings in amending not just his own destiny but that of the town itself.
The town setting is quite small with the list of shops and other buildings remaining similar even when Eike travels all the way back to the 16th century, so navigation shouldn’t be too much of a problem. In order to time travel the Digipad requires the use of energy units which can be found scattered throughout the town. Keeping your stock replenished is crucial, however, for if you run out Eike will be unable to time travel. The Digipad and your map of the town are the most useful items you will encounter but other objects can be acquired for your inventory and their usage is not restricted to the time period they are obtained in. For example, in one scenario Eike cannot open a locked door but by obtaining a key from the past he is able to bring it to the present day. Items also play their part in preventing Eike from being murdered, so there is plenty here for those who love puzzles and with the time limits in each chapter, there is added pressure to the overall experience.
Shadow of Memories suffers from few faults. Though some of the puzzles can be difficult to decipher it will only take a few hours to complete. This brevity is counterbalanced, however, by the game having six possible endings with the best conclusion open to delightful debate. It offers a compelling story where the mysteries slowly unravel, while the links to the distant past will keep you guessing right up to the end, so the six endings are worth pursuing.
Shadow of Memories remains a clever and engaging puzzler. A game where the numerous deaths of the hero is paramount to the story is a refreshingly different angle to take, while time travel offers the same thought-provoking ‘what if’ questions that other films/games have successfully achieved in exploring this theme. Though Shadow of Memories is unfortunately short, the multiple endings and now the possibility of picking this up at a bargain price make it well worth a look.
Final Score: 4/5
Game Review: Shadow of Memories | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
February 26, 2013
Film Review: Eleanor’s Secret
Starring: Julie Gayet, Jeanne Moreau, Denis Podalydès, Pierre Richard, Paul Bandey
Directed by: Dominique Monfery
Runtime: 74 minutes
Studio: Soda Pictures
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Review: Eleanor’s Secret (2009)
I can still recall the Ladybird books from my primary school days, mostly pictures and just a handful of sentences to negotiate, a far cry from the novels I love to read today, that’s for sure. In Dominique Monfery’s Eleanor’s Secret we are taken back to our childhoods and the love of books through the eyes of a boy who can’t yet read.
Seven year old Nathanel and his family make for the home of their deceased relative, Eleanor. Nat and his sister Angelica are each left a gift in their aunt’s will. While Angelica gets a doll, Nat is given a key to a room in the house, one that leads to Aunt Eleanor’s vast library and its many books. Somewhat disappointed, Nat is reminded of his inability to read and soon agrees that his parents can sell the books. Problems arise when Nat is alone in the library and finds not only are these books first editions, the characters within the pages can step out into the real world and beseech Nat to protect them by reading a spell. Unless Nat can read the spell, the characters will all disappear and the world will lose its fairytales. What’s a boy to do about his inability to read?
This is a pleasantly animated film with some great settings and visuals in places. Nat is the more appealing of the two children, his older sister frequently tormenting him and being generally unpleasant. When Nat meets the characters from the fairytales such as Captain Hook and Alice they show him a magic spell he must read aloud to preserve them but, of course, Nat is not able to do so. Worse follows when a disgruntled and wicked fairy uses a spell on Nat and shrinks him down to the size of the other characters. When opportunistic dealer, Mr Pickall, takes all the books to his shop, Nat and the other characters are trapped and must set out on a perilous journey back to Aunt Eleanor’s house.
Nat is forced to face up to the challenge with the fates of the fairy tale characters on his shoulders. He takes along the likes of Alice and the White Rabbit for the journey and they have to negotiate the coastline on their way to Aunt Eleanor’s house. Throughout the adventure, Nat is faced with the reality of having to read the magic spell if he and his friends make it that far. The question is will he be able to save the fairy tale characters and what of the precious books that Mr Pickall is desperately trying to sell.
Eleanor’s Secret is a pleasant enough adventure with some very familiar but still very memorable characters. Nat’s journey to Eleanor’s house, being shrunk by a magic spell and the challenge of having to overcome his weakness to save the literary world, it’s nothing really new and the outcome is very predictable. Turbulent relationships within the family are inevitably fused back together by this adventure and in the end you’ll think of this as an okay experience but it certainly offers nothing particularly new.
Eleanor’s Secret isn’t a bad film but it isn’t one that offers anything different either. Instilling a love of books in children is certainly a good thing but although Nat’s adventure is a rewarding one for him in the end, you never really feel like he’ll not succeed in the end.
Verdict: 2/5
Film Review: Eleanor’s Secret | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
February 25, 2013
Film Review: Bridesmaids
Annie’s life is a mess. But when she finds out her lifetime best friend is engaged, she simply must serve as Lillian’s maid of honour. Though lovelorn and broke, Annie bluffs her way through the expensive and bizarre rituals. With one chance to get it perfect, she’ll show Lillian and her bridesmaids just how far you’ll go for someone you love.
Starring: Kristen Wiig, Maya Rudolph, Rose Byrne, Ellie Kemper, Melissa McCarthy
Directed by: Paul Feig
Runtime: 125 minutes
Studio: Universal Pictures
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Review: Bridesmaids
Directed by Paul Feig, Bridesmaids was a big hit on its release. From the trailers I wasn’t overly convinced it was a film I would enjoy but Mrs B insisted we give it a try so we did. The film focuses on Annie Walker (Kristen Wiig) who is single and not enjoying life. Her bakery failed and was followed by the loss of her boyfriend and savings. Annie works in a jewellery store and has a no-strings relationship with Ted (Jon Hamm) but she longs for something more. When Annie’s best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph) announces she is engaged, she wants Annie to be the maid of honour. Annie accepts eagerly but has to contend with a group of bridesmaids with one in particular, Helen (Rose Byrne), determined to upstage Annie, take charge of the wedding and win Lillian’s friendship.
Annie’s life is going nowhere at the start of the film. She is hoping for a relationship with Ted but he is too absorbed in himself to even contemplate this. Annie does find potential romance with a police officer Nathan (Chris O’Dowd) who pulls her over for having broken taillights. There is little time for romance though what with a wedding to plan. Annie gets on okay with most of the bridesmaids, Rita (Wendi McLendon-Covey), Becca (Ellie Kemper) and Megan (Melissa McCarthy), but Helen is another matter. In a painful sequence Annie has to make a speech for the engaged couple and keeps it brief only for Helen to take to the stage and outclass her. Annie returns to regain the advantage but Helen simply keeps returning! It is the first in a series of dirty deeds from Helen who sinks very low to separate Annie and Lillian. When Annie suggests a Parisian theme for the wedding, Helen dismisses it only to later surprise Lillian with plane tickets to Paris! Yes, it’s that painful.
Bridesmaids has some hilarious moments including the women getting food poisoning while having dresses fitted and Helen spiking Annie’s drink on a plane to Las Vegas with embarrassing results. The rivalry between Annie and Helen inevitably leads to breaking point and unsurprisingly Lillian sees Annie as the one causing all the disruption and hands control of the wedding over to Helen. Annie accepts the decision with reluctance but is that the end of the disasters? Not at all. There are still plenty more misunderstandings and unpleasant exchanges still to come. Will Annie regain her place as maid of honour? Will the wedding go ahead as planned? What of Annie’s love life? Does Ted realise she’s the one or will she end up with Nathan?
Bridesmaids was a surprising film for me full of hilarious incidents and a great bunch of characters, some you’ll love, others you will despise. The cast are all great and although some of the ending scenes are predictable the film still rounds off in a feel-good way. Mrs B went through a plethora of emotions watching this. She’ll tell you it’s good and I agree.
Verdict: 4/5
(Film source: reviewer’s own copy)
Film Review: Bridesmaids | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
Film Review: Reign Over Me
Starring: Adam Sandler, Jonathan Banks, Don Cheadle, Melinda Dillon, Robert Klein
Directed by: Mike Binder
Runtime: 124 minutes
Studio: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment
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Review: Reign Over Me
I remember being at my mother’s house in Barnsley when the 9/11 attacks were breaking news on BBC1. It’s a day that many of us will never forget and I know I’m not alone in feeling the world is a less safer place in the aftermath. Mike Binder’s Reign Over Me looks at the impact that terrible day had on families and friends of the victim and builds the story around two men in particular.
The film begins with Alan Johnson (Don Cheadle) who is a successful dentist, is married with children and life seems to be going well for him. He is, however, feeling many pressures with everyday life and things are not helped by the persistent attentions of one of his patients Donna Remar (Saffron Burrows) who is less than subtle in her advances. One day Alan spots what looks his college friend Charlie Fineman (Adam Sandler) racing along the streets on a GoPed with earphones blocking out all the sounds around him. A reunion takes place between the two friends and Alan discovers that Charlie is failing to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of 9/11, a tragic day for so many but for Charlie the near end of his life with his wife and children all killed in the devastating attack. Alan is left to try and bring Charlie back from the void before it’s too late.
I admire comedy actors that try to expand into serious roles. Jim Carrey with The Truman Show (1998) and Man on the Moon (1999) and the unforgettable Bill Murray in Lost in Translation (2003) are among my favourite examples. I’ve enjoyed many an Adam Sandler film, with The Wedding Singer (1998) still being among the best romantic comedies I’ve ever seen, so I was intrigued to see how he would cope with the transition to serious acting. The good news is Sandler pulls it off very well. Cheadle is excellent as the overworked Alan Johnson but Sandler is superb as the physically and emotionally devastated Charlie Fineman. Fineman initially doesn’t recognise his old college friend and his general existence is a lonely one. Once a practising dentist himself, Fineman tours the streets on his GoPed, the music blazing in his ears helping beat back painful images and memories while at his apartment he is in a cycle of decorating the kitchen over and again, one of the last jobs he was doing prior to the deaths of his family.
Seeing the state Fineman is in, Johnson persuades him to see a therapist (Liv Tyler) but she doesn’t get very far helping him to address the past. Fineman has pushed everyone away including his in-laws who care deeply for him but rather than let them share in the grief they all know so well, Fineman is dismissive and even abusive to them. With therapy struggling to make a breakthrough the film culminates in a court hearing where a case is put forward for Fineman to be committed to a mental asylum. The lawyer for the prosecution is amongst the cruellest you will ever witness in history and the sick level he stoops to in search of a victory is utterly disgusting.
Reign Over Me is a moving and powerful film throughout. Cheadle and Sandler are brilliant throughout with the latter really impressing me with his versatility. The supporting cast are all good but you’ll seldom notice them given the dominance of the two leads. The film conveys a very good message about those left behind after the 9/11 attacks. While revenge seemed to be one of the priorities for the US government there were many people left struggling with their grief. What amazes me is that people found the strength to go on and it speaks volumes for the resilience of many of us. Whether Johnson is able to save Fineman in the end is not for me to say but many will need a box of tissues to hand before the end of the film.
Reign Over Me is a very good and thought-provoking drama with two fantastic central performances from Cheadle and Sandler. Addressing a subject that is still fresh in our minds, the film is a good reminder of the need for us all to stick together and support each other. Although many people have bravely learned to get through the day in the aftermath of 9/11 it’s fair to say that it’s a moment in history that none of us will ever be able to fully lay to rest.
Verdict: 4/5
(Film source: reviewer’s own copy)
Film Review: Reign Over Me | Thank you for reading Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dave
February 24, 2013
Four Paws – The Quillective Project 2013
Today, we’re proud to give a shout out to the Four Paws Project, raising money a non-profit, no-kill cat shelter. It’s a great cause and several authors have hooked up together to share some poetry. All profits go to the shelter and this project will be the first of annual offerings from the authors, supporting different causes each year.
Four Paws – Quillective Project 2013
[image error] The Quillective Project’s mission is to turn the power of the written word into an instrument of compassion, hope, and generosity by putting that power directly in the hands of organizations that share our principles.
The 2013 Quillective Project is Four Paws, a poetry anthology featuring bestselling authors Scott Morgan, Ben Ditmars, Amber Jerome~Norrgard and Robert Zimmermann, with a “fourward” by Russell Blake.
100% of all proceeds from the sale of Four Paws will benefit The Dallas Humane Society’s no-kill shelter, Dog & Kitty City. Your purchase of this book makes a difference.
The project collection goes live on February 24th, 2013 on Amazon.com. For buying information check on The Quillective Project website.
Amber Jerome-Norrgard: The Quillective Project began as an idea as a poetry collaboration between myself and Robert Zimmermann, and not long after, it expanded to include Ben Ditmar, Scott Morgan and Kriss Morton. Originally slated to be released around Christmas, that idea was changed when Ben suggested having all the proceeds go to benefit a charity. And an idea was born. Why not make 100% of the proceeds benefit a worthy cause, not just for this one book, but for future collaborations between Amber and other authors? Why not start something that has nothing to do with anyone in particular but using the combined voices of many and the power of the written word the Quillective Project can benefit those who are not as fortunate.
Even if someone sees this poetry book and doesn’t buy it, if it inspires them to go out and make a positive change in the world, no matter how small, that alone is priceless. And this isn’t just a one time benefit. As long as the organizations that are chosen as beneficiaries for The Quillective Project’s yearly collaborations are in existence, they will benefit. Every time a book is purchased, whether one week, one year, ten years, one hundred years from now? It’s still going to benefit each organization.
Please support the project and make a difference in the lives of the animals of Dog and Kitty City.
100% of all proceeds will benefit www.dognkittycity.or
More ways to help: The Ellen Degeneres show highlights Acts of Kindness and paying it forward. Please go to EllenTV.com: Be on the Show and tell them about The Quillective Project’s 2013 Anthology, Four Paws. Include the links www.dognkittycity.org and www.quillectiveproject.org.
For more information, please visit the sites. If you are interested in helping out, signup for more information HERE:
