Librari[d]an

Yeah, I’m boycotting the 2008 summer Olympics. And by boycotting I mean not watching them and refusing to talk about them. This photo from the BBC is from a feature about Parisian demonstrators going crazy over Tibet and mucking up the torch run. If there’s one thing that France has a long and glorious history of, it’s student demonstrations and riots.

Highlights include:

• A Green party activist being tackled by security guards as he tried to intercept the torch-bearer (Stephane Diagana) at the Eiffel Tower.
• “On the tower itself, protesters unfurled a huge banner criticising China’s human rights record and depicting the Olympic rings as handcuffs.”
• Torch-bearers were repeatedly “targeted” by demonstrators, resulting in the torch being extinguished three times during the run. It was also concealed in the Olympic bus.
• A torch ceremony at the City Hall was canceled entirely.

:: Bibliography ::

• In pictures: Paris torch protests. BBC News. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_pictures/7335043.stm (7 April 2008).

I can’t stop thinking about fair weather, cycling, applying for jobs, ALA in Anaheim, and moving away from Pittsburgh. Not that I’m down on Pittsburgh–just ready for an adventure. (Or, if need be, a misadventure!) Nick called his desire to constantly move wanderlust. I, on the other hand, have always felt a dialectic need for and need to tear myself away from the familiar, the routine. It’s plagued me these past few years, having always found reasons to come back to or stay in Pittsburgh.

I’ve also realized that I am leading a life without music. (Not really, actually. It just feels like it.) Before the ‘pod broke, during my long walks - and occasionally bicycle rides (I know, unsafe!) - I would immerse myself in tunes nouveau and old. I think it’s time to make a financially unsound decision and get another.

This approximate recipe, which I gleaned from the gray, wet recipe book my Mom (pictured) calls a brain, sums up the amazing summer and early fall I had last year. I am resolved that it will be the last of my staple recipes that I post. From here on out, everything will be neuf.

:: Rene’s Vegan Bruschetta ::

Tomatoes
Onions (white)
Olive oil
Salt and Pepper
Basil
Oregano
Garlic (minced)

Directions are simple: Chop the tomatoes and onions and then throw everything in a bowl using amounts that suit your palate. Serve atop rounds of freshly toasted bread (baguette for a snack/appetizer, or something larger for a main course). You may want to brush the rounds with olive oil or put butter on them (if you’re not concerned about dietary restrictions).

Things to consider:

• If you find that this recipe yields bruschetta that’s too wet, remove and discard some (or all) of the tomatoes’ pulpy interiors.
• The type of tomato used can change how this recipe tastes dramatically.
• If you over-spice or put in too much olive oil, just add more tomato until things even out.
• If you have a few “problem” tomatoes (disappointing in taste or color, only edible in part, not exactly at the peak of ripeness, etc.) you can hide them rather wonderfully in this recipe.

Others have tried - and failed - to recreate Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo: In 1976 Brian de Palma created the interesting, if poorly executed, Obsession–a thinly veiled Vertigo knock-off. Sixteen years later, Paul Verhoeven would emulate the film’s visuals to a surprising degree in Basic Instinct. (A visual comparison of Basic Instinct and Vertigo can be found here.) Attempts to recreate key scenes from the film have occurred as recently as 2005. Now, it’s time to add another to the list; Vanity Fair’s March 2008 issue will feature a photographic homage to Hitchcock’s films, including Renée Zellweger as Judy / Madeleine in the final tower scene from Vertigo! (Roy)

I never would have expected Vanity Fair to pick Renée Zellweger to fill Kim Novak’s shoes. Although I admit that she’s a talented actress, Zellweger has never been in a role that required the vulnerability, complexity, and emotional scope that Novak had to bring to her character. And of all the scenes to choose! You’d think they’d pick an easy “grey suit” episode, but instead they chose the climactic dénouement in the tower. It is perhaps the movie’s most emotionally charged scene. However, as you can see in the video of the shoot (also below), Zellweger has pretty much nailed it.

Zellweger’s performance at the shoot - described by Vanity Fair itself as “especially notable” - was both intense and impressive. (Windolf) This praise is pretty amazing, considering that there were five other Oscar winners and a huge amount of A-listers being photographed for Hitchcock’s other films. (Check out the article, cited below, for the full list and scans.) As you can see in the photo and video, everything in terms of the mise en scène was perfect: the coiffure, cosmetics, dress, earrings, tower interior… even Carlotta’s pendant.

At the shoot, Zellweger “was watching the scene over and over while getting her hair and makeup done, and when she came on set she started breathing really hard, almost hyperventilating. [...] She just absolutely exploded on the set and truly became that character like I’ve never seen before. We were in awe.” (Windolf) This method acting may explain why Zellweger’s performance lacked the subtle artistry that Novak brought to Judy’s character in both this and other scenes. (And in all fairness, it was just a photo shoot.) In addition to amplifying the emotions for a traditional camera, Zellweger herself may have been having an emotional reaction to Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak’s performances.

Revisiting Vertigo is something of an obsession for fans of the film. (Unfortunately, this Vertigo fanatic will not be close enough to visit San Fransisco when he goes to Anaheim, California this summer for the annual ALA conference.) Watch a YouTube video of the locations featured in the film here. Check out a stunning visual comparison of scenes from the film and contemporary photographs at Vertigo… Then and Now.

Special thanks to Joel Gunz, Hitchcock Geek for bringing Vanity Fair’s photo shoot to my attention and Deeda Blair for scanning and posting the article.

:: Bibliography ::

Roy, Norman J., photographer. “The 2008 Hollywood Portfolio.” Vanity Fair (March 2008): 370-71. Accessed 8 February 2008. http://community.livejournal.com/ohnotheydidnt/20148385.html.

Windolf, Jim. It’s the Hitch in Hitchcock. March 2008. CondéNet. Accessed 6 February 2008. http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2008/03/behindthescenes200803.

I read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle last summer and enjoyed it immensely despite reports from Japanese speaking friends that the translation was shoddy. After a glut of library-related non-fiction, I decided I needed another story about a plucky, slightly damaged person overcoming that oh-so-Murakami black, nameless, ancient Evil.

I intended to read After Dark, but it was out of the library. I placed a recall on it - shameless I know - and took out Kafka on the Shore.

Kafka on the Shore surprised me. It started off amazingly well with pseudo-historic military documents chronicling a strange event (the “rice bowl” incident) in a remote Japanese village during World War II. However, it soon veered into melodrama. (Truth be told, I’m not sure it ever navigated back out.) A story about a bodybuilding, fifteen year-old runaway? No thank you. Although still turning the pages, the story didn’t really engage me again - save for a confessional-esque return to the “rice bowl” - until Miss Saeki showed up with her enigmatic song, elegant mien, and nebulous back story. In retrospect, I think Kafka on the Shore was a pretty good novel; occasionally heavy-handed, it was not as compelling or finely crafted as Wind-Up Bird, but not too far off.

After Dark, in comparison, blew my socks off. The power of this book comes from it’s very brevity. Murakami can be verbose; after the fifth or sixth time he has his characters talking about how this-or-that is like a metaphor you may imprecate carpal tunnel on the man. In After Dark the time constraint (approx midnight to seven p.m.) forces him to cut away the dead wood and forge only the most interesting, adamantine bonds between his motifs: The invariably male embodiment of the id/Evil, the hero(ine) striving to regain an interpersonal rapport thought severed forever, the fear that H/historical damage may be irreparable, etc.

The invariable question: Is After Dark better than Wind-Up Bird? I don’t know. I think it might be. However, it does lack the magnificent historic scope we found in the latter work. In short, the jury’s still out on that one.

L’amour de l’étymologie is a feature exploring the etymology of English words. Today’s entry: Estivate, from the original æstivate, is a word I came across and wrote down, only to forget about and find years later on a scrap of paper. As you can imagine from the ash (”æ”) in the alternate spelling, estivate is rooted in Latin and came to anglophones by way of French.

The first recorded usage occurred in 1626 in Henry Cockeram’s The English dictionarie, or an interpreter of hard English words. (Strange subtitle, that.) The meaning has remained surprisingly unchanged over the centuries: It’s a verb that means “To spend the summer.” So the next time your parents are going to summer estivate in Cape May, use this more interesting and precise word instead!

Estivate also has a zoological meaning: “To pass the summer in a state of torpor or suspended animation.” So it’s basically the summer equivalent of hibernation, and occurs when reptiles, small mammals, and other organisms go into a state of dormancy to avoid the harshness of - what should more accurately be described as - the dry season. One super neat example is the lungfish, a fish that burrows deep into mud to survive summer droughts.

:: Bibliography ::

“Æstivate.” Oxford English Dictionary. 2007. 16 Dec. 2007 <http://dictionary.oed.com/cgi/findword?query_type=word&queryword=aestivate&find.x=0&find.y=0&find=Find+word>.