Sounds as reasonable as "milk poisoning"

I was volunteering at Ford's Theatre today and, because it's National Park Service Week, there was a little table set up with information about Lincoln sites around the country, and I wound up doing Lincoln trivia with some of the rangers. It went like this:

Ranger: What did Lincoln's mother die of?
Me: Vampires!

Yes. I am reading Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Why? (It's pretty good, BTW.)

The problem with Audrey

I saw Little Shop of Horrors again last night and again quite enjoyed it, but it made me realize how much one aspect of it bothers me. The aspect can be summed up with the line from "Suddenly Seymour": "He purified me."

Ugh. I understand that Audrey has low self-esteem. But the whole thing is just icky. When the urchins (and also, "urchins"? They're teenage girls! At least call them "hoodlums," like I did when I lived across the street from a group of hooligans who liked to hang out on the street) suggest that she date good-boy Seymour, Audrey's all, "I can't, I have a history." In fairness, one of the girls points out that everyone has a history. Audrey's, however, is a bit more tawdry than your average, though, and thus is not deserving of a nice guy like Seymour.

On the one hand, Seymour never, ever judges her for her past or her choice in men. When she reveals that she used to work in a seedy bar, he doesn't care. But on the other hand, Audrey is a completely passive character. She doesn't do an active thing in the entire play; things just happen to her.

So, I don't know. The word "purify" consistently makes me shudder, to the point that it's hard for me to deal with that song, despite how cute Christopher Kale Jones and Jenna Coker-Jones are in it.

Darn good tv

A bit belated, but the other day was the 20th anniversary of the debut of Twin Peaks. And thinking back, there is NO WAY that 11-year-old me should've been watching that show. I actually can't think of Bob without getting freaked out.

I would like to go back and rewatch. I'd probably limit myself to daytime viewing, but it'd be cool to see how well it holds up and whether 31-year-old Barb is as fascinated by the weirdness as 11-year-old Barb was. I feel like I may have less patience for that than I did back then.

But then, it does have Kyle McLaughlin.

So, for your enjoyment, Sesame Street's take on it. (I find it hard to believe that Sesame Street did this. Did it make ANY sense to the kids watching?)

When climbing meets the Blitz

I'm fascinated both by mountain climbing (well, reading about it) and Britain during World War II, so The Fall was a slam dunk for me. It jumps between contemporary England and Wales and World War II, as we meet climbers Jamie and Rob and their mothers. Rob travels to Wales after Jamie's death and reflects on their lives; Mawer weaves that story with the story of their mothers, Meg and Diana, during WWII.

The sections about Meg and Diana in London during the war really brought that period to life for me in a way that other books and movies haven't been able to. The day-to-day realities of the Blitz were there as an organic part of the story, not as a lesson.

Mawer also handles the mountain climbing sections well. I've read a number of books about climbing, and again, he writes the sections in such a way that brings the experience of climbing to life. I admit that I have a tendency to skim over long descriptions of things like climbing, but I didn't do that with this book.

There are some weak aspects. Mawer draws some characters very clearly, but others--major characters--remain a mystery. Though I enjoy that he leaves a lot of things ambiguous, there are some character actions that are completely lacking. On initial read, it's easy to ignore, but deeper inspection of character motivations leave the reader wondering.

The plot, also, is nothing particularly new. The bringing together of mountain climbing and WWII may be new, but the stories of Meg, Diana, Rob, and Jamie are nothing you haven't seen before. And the end of the story hardly comes as a surprise.

But it's all so well written, it doesn't matter.