WARNING: THE LIST AT THE END OF THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS! DO NOT READ IT, AND THEN BLAME ME FOR SPOILING THE MYSTERIES!!!
For awhile, it was popular to accuse Agatha Christie of picking the least likely suspects to be her murderers. There was even some faintly patronizing eye-rolling by writers like Ngaoi Marsh (who should have known better) and various critics: there goes Christie again, picking the suspect in the shadows!
Personally, I think this response was just sour grapes. And the truth is, Agatha Christie's murderers are more often than not front and center family members; they just also happen to have really good alibis that must be broken. But Christie understood crime profiling long before it came along: the most likely suspect in a domestic crime is a family member, specifically a spouse. The next likely suspect is the person who will benefit financially. The third most likely is a sociopath.
The reason this matters is that what makes Christie so great is the simplicity of her story ideas. Story often comes down to one idea. The telling may be elaborate (red herrings plus more red herrings plus more red herrings), but the ultimate denouement is not complicated at all.
The simple story is often also extremely satisfying because it is believable. The reader recognizes the solution as the most probable because it is the solution that corresponds best to human nature.
I think all crime shows can be held to this standard of simple & believable. Unfortunately, Christie-adaptations often try to "improve" her stories by making the bad guys the--yup, you've guessed it--least likely suspects. And, of course, that isn't simple or believable at all.
LAST WARNING OF SPOILERS!
The significant other as murderer always comes first in Christie.
Mysterious Affair at Styles (1920): husband
Murder in Mesopotamia (1936): husband
Evil Under the Sun (1941): boyfriend
Five Little Pigs (1942): girlfriend
The Hollow (1946): wife
The Murder at the Vicarage (1930): wife
A Caribbean Mystery (1964): husband
Lord Edgware Dies (1933): ex-wife
Death on the Nile (1937): husband
Towards Zero (1944): ex-husband
Endless Night (1967): husband (& sociopath)
Death in the Clouds (1935): husband
Other family members:
Elephants Can Remember (1972): sister
Sleeping Murder (1976): older brother
Pocket Full of Rye (1953): son
Sad Cypress (1940): aunt
Dumb Witness (1937): niece
Hercule Poirot's Christmas (1938): son
Peril at End House (1932): cousin
ABC Murders (1936): brother
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Thoughts About Personal Objectivity in Austen
This started out as a comment but got so long, I turned it into a post!
Calvinist Preacher's comment that Elizabeth learns to appreciate Darcy's serious side, recognizing that "her father's unwillingness to be serious about folly actually encourages it" reminded me of an oft-ignored theme in Persuasion.
I recently read a "re-imagined" version of Persuasion in which Anne bemoans she dropped Captain Wentworth when she was younger out of weak-mindedness; she should have dared all and married him anyway!
This is completely and utterly out of keeping with Anne's personality, not to mention Austen's theme.
What Anne actually says at the end of the novel is that while Lady Russell's advice to Anne when she was nineteen was wrong, Anne was not wrong to follow it. Having taught numerous nineteen-year-olds, I can attest to this. Being persuadable to drop that druggy boyfriend and go back to college to get a degree in nursing is a WONDERFUL attribute for a 19-year-old girl to have.
Not that Captain Wentworth was a druggy boyfriend type of dude--and Lady Russell never gave him the chance to prove otherwise--but he so easily could have been.
So though the advice was wrong, Anne's decision to follow it was not. And Austen's focus here indicates that although Persuasion is a very different novel from P& P, her themes/attitudes remain consistent: her narrator rarely thinks highly of characters who just do whatever comes to them on the spur of the moment (sweet-natured Bingley is a rare exception, and Bingley is never destructive).
It isn't that Austen is opposed (as Bronte thought she was) to "sense," to an emotional reaction based on strong feeling. But she isn't a big fan of "because I've had this emotional reaction, it is now more important than anything else including other people's well-being, social stability, not to mention my own future."
What Austen emphasizes with her heroes and heroines is their thoughtfulness. Anne's decision to marry Wentworth at the end of Persuasion provokes some social/familial hostility, though less than it would have eight years earlier, but now she knows what she is getting into. She is prepared to bear the consequences. She is also much more able to weigh the real costs to her family against their imagined costs.
These are all things she couldn't have done at nineteen although the marriage would likely have weathered her learning curve. But Austen (and Bronte actually) saw greater nobility in a decision based on self-knowledge and self-revelation than a decision based on "but this is what I want at the moment" (what Sayers in Gaudy Night calls "snatching").
Returning to Pride & Prejudice, the characters who behave without thought (Mr. Collins, Wickham, Lydia, Mr. Bennet) are punished (sort of) in the end.
Sidenote: Austen's punishments, although seemingly severe to us modern romantics, are actually quite fair. Lydia has married a wastrel, but since she'll spend the rest of her life flirting with officers, I can't see that she will be particularly miserable; Wickham might be, but I think even Wickham does better out of the marriage than he could have hoped for. Mr. Collins has a good wife and a GREAT employer (from his perspective). (I will leave up for debate whether Charlotte is punished or not.) And although Mr. Bennet is a crappy disciplinarian and not the best husband in the world, he is a reasonably nice guy and will continue to have a reasonably nice life. (Note: Mrs. Bennet behaves without thought throughout the novel, but she is too silly to be punished; Austen could be merciful.)
However mild her punishments, Austen reserves her approbation, her happy endings, her love for those characters who demonstrate not only goodness and mutual affection but also intelligent objectivity and honesty. I think, to a degree, this is one reason Austen remains so beloved. We all want the sentimental romance, but underneath, we also want it to be real. Jane Austen keeps it real.
Calvinist Preacher's comment that Elizabeth learns to appreciate Darcy's serious side, recognizing that "her father's unwillingness to be serious about folly actually encourages it" reminded me of an oft-ignored theme in Persuasion.
I recently read a "re-imagined" version of Persuasion in which Anne bemoans she dropped Captain Wentworth when she was younger out of weak-mindedness; she should have dared all and married him anyway!
This is completely and utterly out of keeping with Anne's personality, not to mention Austen's theme.
What Anne actually says at the end of the novel is that while Lady Russell's advice to Anne when she was nineteen was wrong, Anne was not wrong to follow it. Having taught numerous nineteen-year-olds, I can attest to this. Being persuadable to drop that druggy boyfriend and go back to college to get a degree in nursing is a WONDERFUL attribute for a 19-year-old girl to have.
Not that Captain Wentworth was a druggy boyfriend type of dude--and Lady Russell never gave him the chance to prove otherwise--but he so easily could have been.
So though the advice was wrong, Anne's decision to follow it was not. And Austen's focus here indicates that although Persuasion is a very different novel from P& P, her themes/attitudes remain consistent: her narrator rarely thinks highly of characters who just do whatever comes to them on the spur of the moment (sweet-natured Bingley is a rare exception, and Bingley is never destructive).
It isn't that Austen is opposed (as Bronte thought she was) to "sense," to an emotional reaction based on strong feeling. But she isn't a big fan of "because I've had this emotional reaction, it is now more important than anything else including other people's well-being, social stability, not to mention my own future."
What Austen emphasizes with her heroes and heroines is their thoughtfulness. Anne's decision to marry Wentworth at the end of Persuasion provokes some social/familial hostility, though less than it would have eight years earlier, but now she knows what she is getting into. She is prepared to bear the consequences. She is also much more able to weigh the real costs to her family against their imagined costs.
These are all things she couldn't have done at nineteen although the marriage would likely have weathered her learning curve. But Austen (and Bronte actually) saw greater nobility in a decision based on self-knowledge and self-revelation than a decision based on "but this is what I want at the moment" (what Sayers in Gaudy Night calls "snatching").
Returning to Pride & Prejudice, the characters who behave without thought (Mr. Collins, Wickham, Lydia, Mr. Bennet) are punished (sort of) in the end.
Sidenote: Austen's punishments, although seemingly severe to us modern romantics, are actually quite fair. Lydia has married a wastrel, but since she'll spend the rest of her life flirting with officers, I can't see that she will be particularly miserable; Wickham might be, but I think even Wickham does better out of the marriage than he could have hoped for. Mr. Collins has a good wife and a GREAT employer (from his perspective). (I will leave up for debate whether Charlotte is punished or not.) And although Mr. Bennet is a crappy disciplinarian and not the best husband in the world, he is a reasonably nice guy and will continue to have a reasonably nice life. (Note: Mrs. Bennet behaves without thought throughout the novel, but she is too silly to be punished; Austen could be merciful.)
However mild her punishments, Austen reserves her approbation, her happy endings, her love for those characters who demonstrate not only goodness and mutual affection but also intelligent objectivity and honesty. I think, to a degree, this is one reason Austen remains so beloved. We all want the sentimental romance, but underneath, we also want it to be real. Jane Austen keeps it real.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Why Darcy Is Often Justified
I am in the process of revising and expanding A Man of Few Words (new edition coming soon!). As part of that process, I have been examining critical commentaries about Darcy, those I agree with and those I disagree with.
One thing I have noticed is how often (some) critics will define Darcy's behavior at the beginning of the novel entirely negatively, forgetting that Elizabeth (who believes at this point that she dislikes him and who has condemned him for various perceived faults) actually defends many of Darcy's actions in the first few chapters. A good example of this is at the Netherfield ball when Mr. Collins approaches Mr. Darcy.
To modern (American) minds, Darcy is just rude. Why shouldn't Mr. Collins speak to whomever he wants? However, in Darcy and Elizabeth's world, Mr. Collins is completely out-of-line.
To modernize it, imagine you attend a dinner party put on by friends. The dinner party is intended to be relaxing, fun, a good time for all. But during the evening, this one guy keeps approaching people, forcing his business cards on them, and buttonholing them into buying life insurance.
This is EXACTLY what Mr. Collins is doing. He doesn't approach Mr. Darcy out of goodwill but out of a desire to aggrandize himself. And Elizabeth is rightly mortified.
Note, too, that although she is partly mortified by the ridiculousness of Mr. Collins' conversation with Darcy (not reported here), she is mostly mortified by his decision to introduce himself. That is, despite Elizabeth's egalitarian impulses, she still accepts, even practices, the routine civilities of her society.
The appropriate course for action would be for Mr. Bennet, who has already officially met Bingley and Darcy, to do the introductions: "Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, I would like to introduce my cousin, Mr. Collins. I believe Mr. Collins has some acquaintance with your family, Mr. Darcy."
This is forestalled partly by Mr. Collins' smugness but also by Mr. Bennet's laxity. But the inappropriateness/wrongness of Mr. Collins' actions are not disputed by the characters.
What I think is in dispute is Darcy's reaction, and this is where personality (and possibly pride) come into play. If Darcy were a pure social extrovert like Bingley, he would be able to smooth over Mr. Collins' social infraction with an easy, blithe remark. But Darcy doesn't think that way. When Mr. Collins approaches him, Darcy's brain (which is wholly occupied with Elizabeth at this point) does something like this: Why is this guy talking to me? Why am I having this conversation? I shouldn't have to have this conversation! Go away! He isn't going away. I gotta get out of here. And he does. Darcy's "pride" is in not thinking beyond the temporary, annoying invasion into his space.
But even Elizabeth admits Mr. Collins invaded Darcy's space.
One thing I have noticed is how often (some) critics will define Darcy's behavior at the beginning of the novel entirely negatively, forgetting that Elizabeth (who believes at this point that she dislikes him and who has condemned him for various perceived faults) actually defends many of Darcy's actions in the first few chapters. A good example of this is at the Netherfield ball when Mr. Collins approaches Mr. Darcy.
"You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?" [Elizabeth said.]Mr. Collins does approach Darcy. The result is Darcy's "astonishment at being so addressed." The conversation (or monologue by Mr. Collins) ends when Darcy "made him a slight bow, and moved another way."
"Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine's nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'nnight."
Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either side, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to begin the acquaintance. -- Mr. Collins listened to her with the determined air of following his own inclination.
To modern (American) minds, Darcy is just rude. Why shouldn't Mr. Collins speak to whomever he wants? However, in Darcy and Elizabeth's world, Mr. Collins is completely out-of-line.
To modernize it, imagine you attend a dinner party put on by friends. The dinner party is intended to be relaxing, fun, a good time for all. But during the evening, this one guy keeps approaching people, forcing his business cards on them, and buttonholing them into buying life insurance.
This is EXACTLY what Mr. Collins is doing. He doesn't approach Mr. Darcy out of goodwill but out of a desire to aggrandize himself. And Elizabeth is rightly mortified.
Note, too, that although she is partly mortified by the ridiculousness of Mr. Collins' conversation with Darcy (not reported here), she is mostly mortified by his decision to introduce himself. That is, despite Elizabeth's egalitarian impulses, she still accepts, even practices, the routine civilities of her society.
The appropriate course for action would be for Mr. Bennet, who has already officially met Bingley and Darcy, to do the introductions: "Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, I would like to introduce my cousin, Mr. Collins. I believe Mr. Collins has some acquaintance with your family, Mr. Darcy."
This is forestalled partly by Mr. Collins' smugness but also by Mr. Bennet's laxity. But the inappropriateness/wrongness of Mr. Collins' actions are not disputed by the characters.
What I think is in dispute is Darcy's reaction, and this is where personality (and possibly pride) come into play. If Darcy were a pure social extrovert like Bingley, he would be able to smooth over Mr. Collins' social infraction with an easy, blithe remark. But Darcy doesn't think that way. When Mr. Collins approaches him, Darcy's brain (which is wholly occupied with Elizabeth at this point) does something like this: Why is this guy talking to me? Why am I having this conversation? I shouldn't have to have this conversation! Go away! He isn't going away. I gotta get out of here. And he does. Darcy's "pride" is in not thinking beyond the temporary, annoying invasion into his space.
But even Elizabeth admits Mr. Collins invaded Darcy's space.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Guest Blogger: The Finale of Smallville
Mike writes about the finale of Smallville:
I just watched the Smallville finale (despite not seeing any episode of the entire current season). It was . . . okay. (Lois and Clark ALMOST get married; the wedding is interrupted by evil, of course). Yet, somehow, with ten years to prepare, the ending still felt rushed. The two hours spent so much time wrapping up different relationships (talk talk talk) that the "Big Fight" at the end was compressed into 30 seconds that you don't even really get to see!
One things that bugs me about shows with continuity is how often the budget hinders the quality, and the quality thus affects the storytelling. For instance, it would have made sense for many of the people Clark Kent helped, loved, and worked with through the years to attend his wedding. Instead, presumably due to budget, the entire attendance of the wedding is made up of extras. Only six actors in the chapel are familiar to the viewer, and TWO of them are the wedding couple!
And while there are a few great guest appearances (the returns of Lex, Lionel, and Jonathan Kent are all great), many other people would have been logical additions. Any of the dozens of heroes Clark has met are really missed.
Perhaps the most embarrassing budget-inspired cheat is the suit. Introduced at the end of last year, the Superman suit was "borrowed" from Superman Returns. (I understand it was used mostly as a set piece over the past two seasons). While Clark officially dons it in the finale, it seems that Tom Welling doesn't. This is only speculation, but it seems the producers didn't want to make a new suit for the episode (movie suits cost THOUSANDS), and since Tom Welling didn't fit the one used for the movie, well . . . they faked it: back shots of a computer-animated Superman and close-up head shot with a CGI cape behind. No actual full body Superman shot. I felt bad for poor Tom.
The finale does finally allow Clark to fly but the moment feels . . . rushed. Almost like an after thought.
Another thing that bugged me, although I appreciated the attempt, is how the finale made a point of finishing the storyline but then chickened out on several things in order to please the "die hard fans" of Superman. For instance, the shows ends 7 years in the future with Lois and Clark only then deciding to reattempt marriage. Lex, resurrected and fully aware of Clark and his powers, conveniently gets his memory erased.
Despite both Superman and Smallville fans, one of the funniest things is just how little background knowledge the finale needed. I've only seen half of season 9 and nothing of 10, and the two minute summary before the episode was enough to fill me in. This highlights perhaps my biggest complaint about Smallville: The sheer amount of time the show wasted treading water instead of moving forward. It's infuriating! The writers never seemed to understand the slow growth of plot and development. Instead the show was a series of starts and stops. It would move forward a bit, then stop and drag its feet, afraid to move too quickly to the ending everyone was waiting TEN years for.
Smallville decided to go its own way retelling a lot of Superman history, but it even waffled staying true to that! In the end, I'm kinda glad the show is finally over; it could have ended a LONG time ago.
I just watched the Smallville finale (despite not seeing any episode of the entire current season). It was . . . okay. (Lois and Clark ALMOST get married; the wedding is interrupted by evil, of course). Yet, somehow, with ten years to prepare, the ending still felt rushed. The two hours spent so much time wrapping up different relationships (talk talk talk) that the "Big Fight" at the end was compressed into 30 seconds that you don't even really get to see!
One things that bugs me about shows with continuity is how often the budget hinders the quality, and the quality thus affects the storytelling. For instance, it would have made sense for many of the people Clark Kent helped, loved, and worked with through the years to attend his wedding. Instead, presumably due to budget, the entire attendance of the wedding is made up of extras. Only six actors in the chapel are familiar to the viewer, and TWO of them are the wedding couple!
And while there are a few great guest appearances (the returns of Lex, Lionel, and Jonathan Kent are all great), many other people would have been logical additions. Any of the dozens of heroes Clark has met are really missed.
Perhaps the most embarrassing budget-inspired cheat is the suit. Introduced at the end of last year, the Superman suit was "borrowed" from Superman Returns. (I understand it was used mostly as a set piece over the past two seasons). While Clark officially dons it in the finale, it seems that Tom Welling doesn't. This is only speculation, but it seems the producers didn't want to make a new suit for the episode (movie suits cost THOUSANDS), and since Tom Welling didn't fit the one used for the movie, well . . . they faked it: back shots of a computer-animated Superman and close-up head shot with a CGI cape behind. No actual full body Superman shot. I felt bad for poor Tom.
The finale does finally allow Clark to fly but the moment feels . . . rushed. Almost like an after thought.
Another thing that bugged me, although I appreciated the attempt, is how the finale made a point of finishing the storyline but then chickened out on several things in order to please the "die hard fans" of Superman. For instance, the shows ends 7 years in the future with Lois and Clark only then deciding to reattempt marriage. Lex, resurrected and fully aware of Clark and his powers, conveniently gets his memory erased.
Despite both Superman and Smallville fans, one of the funniest things is just how little background knowledge the finale needed. I've only seen half of season 9 and nothing of 10, and the two minute summary before the episode was enough to fill me in. This highlights perhaps my biggest complaint about Smallville: The sheer amount of time the show wasted treading water instead of moving forward. It's infuriating! The writers never seemed to understand the slow growth of plot and development. Instead the show was a series of starts and stops. It would move forward a bit, then stop and drag its feet, afraid to move too quickly to the ending everyone was waiting TEN years for.
Smallville decided to go its own way retelling a lot of Superman history, but it even waffled staying true to that! In the end, I'm kinda glad the show is finally over; it could have ended a LONG time ago.
Friday, May 13, 2011
More Thoughts About "That Guy"!
In response to my latest post, Eugene posted some thoughts about "that guy": 
This issue of obtaining maturity through self-discipline and honest self-appraisal crops up in television shows all the time but is rarely dealt with intelligently. One of the (many) smart things about the end of Numb3rs is the treatment of Larry. In Season 3, Larry finally achieves his goal of going into space. He comes back to earth (literally), but his academic options now seem kind of flat, and he realizes that his current academic explorations are going nowhere. Instead of the writers having Larry "buck up" and realize what a fantastic scientist he really is, they have him leave academics, wander off into the world. During his wanderings, he experiences an epiphany regarding his new scientific focus. He then returns to CalSci, prepared to concentrate on this new focus.
I love this. On the one hand, he does stick to what he knows (science); on the other, he has to go through a period of outside experiences before he can refocus. And last but not least, he makes a definite decision. His life finally gains focus. (I was afraid Larry would be left as wandering-hermit-guy.)
Granted, wandering isn’t all that self-disciplined. The point is, Larry recognizes that he can no longer continue in the same direction academically. He has to rethink his goals.
I think this type of reassessment happens all the time in real life, but on television, it takes a smart/brave writer to let a character stray that far afield. The Buffy writers couldn’t quite bring themselves to do it; the resolution to every Buffy problem was "buck up." Granted, she doesn't have much of a choice, but after Season 3, she only plays with real life; "growing up" is translated into "telling Giles to back off." Ho hum.
In comparison, on Stargate SG-1, Daniel also can never really leave his chosen path, the SGC (the ACTOR can, not the character). However, "bucking up" in the continual search for his wife gets old. So the Stargate writers changed Daniel’s purpose for staying (twice!). Specifically, they had him get over his grief.
Remarkable. But true to life. As we mature, we get over things. On the mundane level, some things matter less; other things matter more. We might not all leave our posts to wander the world, but we often refocus our goals/reorder our priorities/change our minds/look at things differently. Even if we decide (like Daniel), "This is where I’m suppose to be," we do it because something about where we are matters from money to principles to long-range goals to short-range needs. And what mattered when we were twenty or thirty or forty, while it might not change completely, morphs somewhat because we morph somewhat.
We don’t just keep "bucking up" as if where we are should simply be a matter of self-esteem. (Oh, yes, I should be here because I believe in myself! Again!!) Only people (real and fake) on television do that.
I often think the Numb3rs and Stargate writers are the most mature people in Hollywood.
Speaking of making choices and new directions, the latest review was just posted to the Mike-Kate Video Club!
John Polkinghorne, a renowned professor of mathematics and theoretical physics at the University of Cambridge, resigned to become an Anglican priest . . . he knew he couldn't be THAT GUY again--the brilliant scientist--and didn't want to stay beyond his "sell-by" date. Polkinghorne did return to Cambridge and became president of Queen's College, but after pursuing a completely different occupation in the real world. The feudal inclination to perpetual self-entitlement reveals itself most powerfully in politics and academia and must be disciplined.
I love this. On the one hand, he does stick to what he knows (science); on the other, he has to go through a period of outside experiences before he can refocus. And last but not least, he makes a definite decision. His life finally gains focus. (I was afraid Larry would be left as wandering-hermit-guy.)
Granted, wandering isn’t all that self-disciplined. The point is, Larry recognizes that he can no longer continue in the same direction academically. He has to rethink his goals.
I think this type of reassessment happens all the time in real life, but on television, it takes a smart/brave writer to let a character stray that far afield. The Buffy writers couldn’t quite bring themselves to do it; the resolution to every Buffy problem was "buck up." Granted, she doesn't have much of a choice, but after Season 3, she only plays with real life; "growing up" is translated into "telling Giles to back off." Ho hum.
In comparison, on Stargate SG-1, Daniel also can never really leave his chosen path, the SGC (the ACTOR can, not the character). However, "bucking up" in the continual search for his wife gets old. So the Stargate writers changed Daniel’s purpose for staying (twice!). Specifically, they had him get over his grief.
Remarkable. But true to life. As we mature, we get over things. On the mundane level, some things matter less; other things matter more. We might not all leave our posts to wander the world, but we often refocus our goals/reorder our priorities/change our minds/look at things differently. Even if we decide (like Daniel), "This is where I’m suppose to be," we do it because something about where we are matters from money to principles to long-range goals to short-range needs. And what mattered when we were twenty or thirty or forty, while it might not change completely, morphs somewhat because we morph somewhat.
We don’t just keep "bucking up" as if where we are should simply be a matter of self-esteem. (Oh, yes, I should be here because I believe in myself! Again!!) Only people (real and fake) on television do that.
I often think the Numb3rs and Stargate writers are the most mature people in Hollywood.
Speaking of making choices and new directions, the latest review was just posted to the Mike-Kate Video Club!
Sunday, May 8, 2011
A Thought About Lucas
After watching Plinkett's reviews of Star Wars for the zillioneth time (note: I do not recommend these to family and friends who are squeamish about, uh, let's call it vulgarity), I had a thought (which I'm sure "Plinkett" has already had) about what George Lucas was trying to do with I, II, and III:
Recapture his youth.
He wasn't just trying to compete against directors like Ridley Scott and James Cameron (although he was doing that too), and he wasn't just trying to be rich and famous because he already was. He was trying to be THAT GUY again, the guy who came out of nowhere with a picture that wowed the world.
And it's sad because even if I, II, and III had been good, he could never be THAT GUY again.
There's a great line in an episode of Numb3rs where Charlie is explaining to Larry how much pressure he feels to instantly produce genius work. Larry tries to explain that many great mathematicians did their best work in their later years; Charlie has a lot of time to produce awe-inspiring research.
"Yes," Charlie says, "but it will never again come ahead of schedule."
Just think of the rush a person gets from producing masterpieces ahead of schedule! It would be hard to lose that.
Unfortunately, even prodigies have to grow up.
Recapture his youth.
He wasn't just trying to compete against directors like Ridley Scott and James Cameron (although he was doing that too), and he wasn't just trying to be rich and famous because he already was. He was trying to be THAT GUY again, the guy who came out of nowhere with a picture that wowed the world.
And it's sad because even if I, II, and III had been good, he could never be THAT GUY again.
There's a great line in an episode of Numb3rs where Charlie is explaining to Larry how much pressure he feels to instantly produce genius work. Larry tries to explain that many great mathematicians did their best work in their later years; Charlie has a lot of time to produce awe-inspiring research.
"Yes," Charlie says, "but it will never again come ahead of schedule."
Just think of the rush a person gets from producing masterpieces ahead of schedule! It would be hard to lose that.
Unfortunately, even prodigies have to grow up.
Friday, May 6, 2011
One of Kate's Little Soap-Boxes
These days I don't get as bugged by environmental silliness as I used to, mostly because I think the tide is turning. The insistence that the environment is beyond repair, the earth is dying (from overpopulation, from the ozone layer burning off, doom doom doom) is slowly being replaced by more thoughtful analysis about the complexity of the planet.
Nevertheless, I don't suppose it hurts to throw another bit of eye-rolling-at-environmentalists onto the information highway (wow! that's an old metaphor).
Here it is: it really bugs me when the idea of "saving Mother Earth" is divorced from the idea of saving humans.
I think both "Mother Earth" and humans are sturdier than they are given credit for. But every once in awhile, I encounter this sentimental and maudlin idea that environmentalists are doing what they do for the sake of Mother Earth.
Why should She care?
It is sentimental and maudlin because (1) it anthropomorphizes THE EARTH; (2) it assumes that an anthropomorphized EARTH isn't happy unless it exists in accordance with human standards.
From a non-human point of view, there's no good reason THE EARTH (if, like Dorothy's Scarecrow, it only had a brain) wouldn't be just as happy riddled with volcanoes, secreting poisonous gases into the atmosphere and killing off bears. Or dinosaurs. Or whatever the latest endangered species is.
It's just a little too convenient that THE EARTH'S needs would so exactly correspond to people's needs: lots of green, pleasant weather, and, as a lab geek says in CSI, "This really frosts my lizard. I go out to the lake to get away from the casinos. Well, there goes jet-skiing."
As Leonard says to Penny, "What's up with that?"
I have far more respect for environmentalists like Bjørn Lomborg who set out to determine how saving the world will benefit humans. And who keep asking, "Can we make this cost-effective?"
But I have little to no patience with anyone trying to tell me what the earth needs or wants.
In a sort of tangent, some of those who belong to the latter category will admit that they are basically pagans (not scientists). However, I would have to disagree with them. Well, okay, modern pagans. But ancient pagans? Nah.
The fantastic thing about ancient paganism was how incredibly materialist it was. Pagans weren't worshiping earth gods because they loved the earth; they were worshiping earth gods, so they could dig up the land and make money. Or just not die. They were Camille Paglia, not Wiccans.
I always find self-interest much more trustworthy than its lack. (At least when the monotheistic religions said, "Be good for the sake of goodness," they were upfront about it: "And if you think this is going to get you bags of glory in the immediate future, think again.")
Nevertheless, I don't suppose it hurts to throw another bit of eye-rolling-at-environmentalists onto the information highway (wow! that's an old metaphor).
Here it is: it really bugs me when the idea of "saving Mother Earth" is divorced from the idea of saving humans.
I think both "Mother Earth" and humans are sturdier than they are given credit for. But every once in awhile, I encounter this sentimental and maudlin idea that environmentalists are doing what they do for the sake of Mother Earth.
Why should She care?
It is sentimental and maudlin because (1) it anthropomorphizes THE EARTH; (2) it assumes that an anthropomorphized EARTH isn't happy unless it exists in accordance with human standards.
From a non-human point of view, there's no good reason THE EARTH (if, like Dorothy's Scarecrow, it only had a brain) wouldn't be just as happy riddled with volcanoes, secreting poisonous gases into the atmosphere and killing off bears. Or dinosaurs. Or whatever the latest endangered species is.
It's just a little too convenient that THE EARTH'S needs would so exactly correspond to people's needs: lots of green, pleasant weather, and, as a lab geek says in CSI, "This really frosts my lizard. I go out to the lake to get away from the casinos. Well, there goes jet-skiing."
As Leonard says to Penny, "What's up with that?"
I have far more respect for environmentalists like Bjørn Lomborg who set out to determine how saving the world will benefit humans. And who keep asking, "Can we make this cost-effective?"
But I have little to no patience with anyone trying to tell me what the earth needs or wants.
In a sort of tangent, some of those who belong to the latter category will admit that they are basically pagans (not scientists). However, I would have to disagree with them. Well, okay, modern pagans. But ancient pagans? Nah.
The fantastic thing about ancient paganism was how incredibly materialist it was. Pagans weren't worshiping earth gods because they loved the earth; they were worshiping earth gods, so they could dig up the land and make money. Or just not die. They were Camille Paglia, not Wiccans.
I always find self-interest much more trustworthy than its lack. (At least when the monotheistic religions said, "Be good for the sake of goodness," they were upfront about it: "And if you think this is going to get you bags of glory in the immediate future, think again.")
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