How Dare It Not Be True! Weighing Information in Our Information Age

I recently watched Moneyball--which I mostly enjoyed. Then I went online to discover more about the story. As can be expected, I encountered a website that said (I summarize):

Oh, sure, the movie is fine, but of course, it isn't exactly what happens. Hollywood is trying to pull a fast one on us again by changing things--the movie brings in an audience but does it at the expense of the truth; Hollywood is just perpetuating falsehoods.

Yadda yadda yadda.



This character was invented!!

I find this reaction puzzling, mostly because I've always had the opposite reaction: I never believe anything people tell me. Consequently, I'm always pleasantly surprised when a Hollywood movie turns out to be more real than not.

I felt the same way about House, M.D.--okay, so doctors don't actually run those tests, but golly, who knew those were even real tests to begin with?!

I don't consider myself especially cynical. Skeptical maybe. Not cynical. My disbelief in any particular piece of information is not (sorry, House) based on the assumption that everybody lies.

Instead, I appreciate the difficulty of disseminating information consistently and accurately.

Information is constantly pouring at us from various outlets. And all of it is delivered by people with particular invested interests. (I happen to hate the word "bias" because it implies that it is BAD for people to have an invested interest in a particular perspective; it isn't BAD; it's normal.) I might be inclined to trust some people over others--the scientists in a lab doing experiments over the politician who talks about said experiments. But even the scientists have invested interests--for money, for fame, simply to be right (hence the Cold Fusion Scandal).

This invested interest doesn't mean that the information is automatically wrong. As stated above, I'm not a cynic and don't much care for the conspiracy-theory approach to life that refutes anything that doesn't line up with a pre-determined set of variables. Although I am strictly speaking an empirical rationalist, I remain a religious person because it forces me to consider a set of variables that might upset the applecart. Which doesn't mean I do upset the applecart--I'm far more interested in seeing how and if the variables can be balanced.

Which is another way of saying I don't think Bigfoot exists, and I'm going to run with that for now, but I wouldn't be terribly surprised if he showed up.

Actually, I subscribe to the Mythbusters' approach, which states that what has currently been proven is what we know. Except I like to remind myself how quickly such knowledge can change; just consider what people know now versus what people knew then and what people in the future will know compared to what people know now.

We can always learn more.

And that's basically where I always end up: we can always learn more. Getting twisted into knots over Moneyball comes from perceiving information as static and one-sourced. It's the same as parents freaking out because the child is reading fairytales from Disney, and Disney is just too, too bourgeois and violent and sexist, blah, blah, blah.

Why not read Disney and Anderson and Perrault and Lang and even Grimm (if the little tyke can take it)? Why not read Michael Lewis's book and Bill James's book and watch the movie and research Billy Beane on the Internet?

It is customary for such alarmist writers as the one summarized above to contend that only THEY do such research--they are writing for all those poor slubs out there who take the movie on faith. People in my Master's program would make the same argument about dumb poor people who are bamboozled by big business advertisements.

Except . . .

I'm left with the impression that the people who worry about this stuff are far more susceptible to the one-source-one-argument idea than the viewers and readers they supposedly fret about.

Sometimes It's Okay to Make Exceptions . . . Avengers, Stargate, and Person of Interest

To start with, three plot approaches that I deem completely stupid:

1. Death
2. It's just a dream.
3. The lady or the tiger

However, now and again, a writer/director/actor uses these approaches to good purpose.

*WARNING: Spoilers appear in each section below.*

DEATH

In general, I think death is the ultimate writing cop-out. It's High School Writing 101: I don't know how to end my story, so I'll kill someone! When in fact, it is far more difficult to "solve" the plot problem by keeping characters alive, kicking, and intrusive than by making them disappear.

It's also easy profundity. Kill off a character: get a pass for life. If anyone dares to criticize, well, that person is a pollyanna who can't accept harsh realities, blah, blah, blah.

Face it: lazy writers kill characters out of sheer laziness.

And yup, I am including Joss Whedon. In fact, I hold him more responsible than I do your average HS Freshman because (1) he should know better; (2) he's a good enough writer not to fall back on death as a solution.

The exception: Coulson's death in Avengers (which Whedon actually claims he didn't plan!).

I was a fan of Coulson from the beginning. I got such a kick out of that guy in Iron Man who kept bothering Pepper Potts. I liked his cool laid-back attitude and the easy way he marshaled reinforcements at the end of the movie.

So I was sad about his death in Avengers (I do realize that technically, he is still alive). But it was such a remarkable pay-off for a total bit part, a small character who grew throughout the films, got his own short, and then got us to giggle over his Captain America obsession. He may have been Avengers' red shirt, but for fans of the franchise, he was the one consistent character who could make us feel a need to avenge. He was beloved, so the death actually mattered--it wasn't just a throw-away.

IT'S JUST A DREAM

Nope, I'm not going to talk about Inception.

Usually, the "it was just a dream" approach makes nonsense of the viewer/reader's investment. Oooh, we got you to care, but guess again!

Exception: "Changeling," Stargate SG-1, Season 6. Teal'c dreams that he is a member of SG-1, then that he is a member of a firehouse. The viewer knows--or thinks she knows--that SG-1 is the reality even though Teal'c as a fireman makes a good deal more sense in the "oh, I don't have to suspend my beliefs or disbeliefs" sense.

Except it turns out that both are dreams. The reality is that Teal'c is dying as he shares his symbiote (or, in the fireman sequence, his kidney) with his mentor. The dreams are a coping mechanism.

What makes the dreams even cooler is that Daniel Jackson--as an ascended being--plays a role in helping Teal'c cope. The Stargate writers did an excellent job not closing themselves off to the possibility of Daniel's return. It is sometimes hard to remember which season he was technically not in--his name and guest appearances are used so effectively in Season 6, he is as omnipresent as a regular.

By showing up in the dream sequences, Daniel makes the dreams real; they may be Teal'c's imaginings, but they occur while Daniel is present--and although he is present as a "psychologist," his last line to Teal'c ("I haven't left your side") clarifies that he has been present the entire time as his ascended self. It makes the dreams much more than "oops, we never really meant that to happen" events. They matter.

THE LADY OR THE TIGER

The Lady or the Tiger refers to a short story by Frank Stockton. Like many people, I read it in high school.

I hated it! The story basically revolves around a choice: will the princess provide her ex-lover with a beautiful lady or condemn him to death by tiger?

At that precise point in my life, I decided that I would never, ever, ever end a story in such a way. (Since then, I've learned the wicked truth: as the writer, I know what my character chose, but that doesn't mean I have to tell the audience: hee, hee hee.)

Still, I dislike open endings in general. "Oh, do your job and just tell us. Why leave us wondering?"

Exception: And then I saw the end of "Cura Te Ipsum," the fourth episode of Person of Interest, Season 1.

Here's the final exchange between Reese and a serial yuppie rapist:

Andrew Benton: Please, you y-y-you don't want to do something that you're going to regret.
John Reese: Which do you think I'll regret more - letting you live or letting you die? [Insistently] Andrew, help me make a good decision.

Actually, the entire dialog is well-worth reading as Benton and Reese discuss the possibility of change, the use of fear to control behavior, and the meaning of "good."

The episode ends on Reese's line. We are never told what he decided (I'm assuming; I haven't seen beyond Season 1 yet: the first disc of Season 2 will arrive from Netflix soon!). Reese leaves the viewer with a true philosophical problem, not some simple-minded "either/or" issue. What does one do with evil? What can be prevented or helped when an evil person (Benton isn't merely bad) is eliminated? On the other hand, what unintended consequences might be thrown into motion? What about the good guy? What might this action do to him? Reese has taken charge of Benton to protect the innocence of the good doctor who intended to kill him herself. Reese didn't want her to taint herself:

John Reese: I lost that part of myself a long time ago... not sure if I can find it... not sure it matters anymore. Maybe it's better this way, maybe it's up to me to do what the good people can't. Or maybe there are no good people, maybe there are only good decisions.

Not every rule may be made to be broken. But literary rules certain can be. Stargate, Avengers, and Person of Interest broke the rules right. 

Damsel Under Interrogation

Chapter 6 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel under interrogation on my novel page!

Dulcibel : A Tale of Old Salem, by Henry Peterson

Damsel as Witness

Chapter 5 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel as witness on my novel page!

Tabitha Ann Holton

F is for Film Tense

Initially, I thought I would only have one "F" author--to my surprise, I ended up with five or six. I went ahead and added a couple whose books I've never read (or can't remember reading) but I have seen the movies!

I start, however, with an author whose stories I have read:

http://ashenwings777.deviantart.com

Faulkner, William: I'm a big fan of William Faulkner. I naturally read "A Rose for Emily" in high school (and college). My favorite piece by him is "The Bear" found in Go Down, Moses. His style of writing is sublimely evocative, sort of like reading Isaiah, only, you know, readable.

Feather, Jane: I wrote about Jane Feather recently. She is a skilled romance writer! But I must confess: I dislike her heroines.

Fforde, Jasper: I read several of the Thursday books when they first came out and enjoyed them. I didn't keep up.

I'm a big fan of the classic (some would say cliché) narrative arc; I read mysteries and romances over and over again. However, some book series seem less like classic arcs and more like one-trick ponies. Seth Grahame-Smith's Pride & Prejudice & Zombies was funny and . . . okay, that was nice. I feel the same about the Thursday series. Not that I wish these writers ill--I'm all about writers being able to make a living (and creating/contributing to a popular series is the way to do it)!

Fielding, Henry: I read Tom Jones in college and saw the movie with Albert Finney (watch Tom Jones; then watch Murder on the Orient Express; then go, "Wow!"). I don't think I disliked the book, but I'm afraid I have a problem with Fielding because of his utterly unfair Shamela. Fielding was just as susceptible to distressed females as Pamela's creator; Richardson just irked him.

Fitzgerald, F. Scott: Of course, I read The Great Gatsby--you think any college would give me an English degree if I hadn't read Fitzgerald's American classic!? I haven't, however, seen the latest movie.

Flagg, Fannie: Fannie Flagg's book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe, which became the movie Fried Green Tomatoes, is one of those books that I think I read, yet I mostly remember the movie--or at least the end of the movie. 

Fluke, Joanna: I read several books from the Hannah Swensen series and enjoyed them. I always get a kick out of the mystery/recipe combo. I gave up after awhile and explained why in a post about Buffy (and other vampire fiction). Here is my reason in summary: 

In book 5, Harris begins to head Sookie down a path that so many female suspense/mystery writers seemed compelled to take: the Road of Multiple Suitors. I can only surmise, based on the Twilight series' existence and success, that female writers and their readers enjoy fantasizing a princess-quest allotment of suitors for their heroines. Too many female-written mysteries contain if not several suitors, at least two who vie unceasingly for the heroine's attention. I have no very high opinion of the heroines and almost no opinion of the suitors (get a life already, people).

Forster, E.M.: I don't think I've ever read an E.M. Forster book (maybe 1/2 of one once), but I've seen plenty of his movies! Room with a View (fun!), Howards End (depressing), Where Angels Fear to Tread (depressing). I can't say I feel compelled to read his books.

Forester, C.S.: I haven't read anything by C.S. Forester either. However, my mother is a fan of the Horatio Hornblower series, so I know quite a lot about the books from discussions with her. And I've seen the BBC series starring Ioan Gruffudd. I think the series is impressive, and Gruffudd does an excellent job as the titular character. This makes his less than excellent performance in Fantastic Four all the more puzzling.

My theory: Gruffudd couldn't figure out what he was doing in Fantastic Four. Of course, neither could Chris Evans, but Chris Evans coped by mugging endlessly to the camera, i.e. not letting the movie get him down. Since Chris Evens went on to  prove his ability (as Captain America), my advice to actors: even if it is a stupid movie, don't let anyone know through your acting. (In "British Television is a Small Place" World, Jamie Bamber also plays a role in the Horatio Hornblower series.)

Francis, Dick: Yup, I've read a few Dick Francis novels. Unfortunately, they belong to the detective-who-gets-beat-up variety of mysteries, not the investigation-in-a-small-town variety and don't interest me that much. I don't consider them more or less realistic than any other type of mystery, simply not my cup of tea.  

Fowler, Karen: Another movie that I haven't seen: The Jane Austen Book Club! I have read the book, though. I'd say, "Ah, another novel capitalizing on Austen," but geez, who I am to talk!

Damsel in Custody

Chapter 4 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel in custody on my novel page!

Old Police Station (Built 1879) 

Alexander P. Kapp

Armageddon: What a Hoot!

Thornton and Willis

Lately, I've been watching disaster movies. It interests me whether they are accurate or not; I also enjoy a good story (disaster movies have automatic classic plots: alarm, destruction, the end).

Lately, I watched Deep Impact and then, somewhat by mistake, Armageddon.

Deep Impact was better than I'd remembered and according to the on-line astrophysicists, fairly accurate (to a point; it is also glaringly inaccurate in other ways). I still think the ending is rather daffy--when the reporter goes home to stand with her father under a crashing tsunami. So maybe, she couldn't get away from the evil tidal wave in time, but I'm a big advocate of trying. (If one of these ever aims for Maine, I'm heading for the top of the highest mountain and taking my cats with me; yes, okay, Maine doesn't really have mountains, just enormous hills, but still . . . )

All the on-line astrophysicists agree that Armageddon is just dreadful (and I'm not a huge fan of Ben Affleck although I adore Will Patton), so I decided to give it a miss. However, I forgot that it was still in my inter-library loan request queue.

When it came in, I decided, "Eh, why not?"

First of all, this is not a movie that is taking the science of asteroids even a little seriously. And it knows it. (Deep Impact takes itself very seriously.) And it really doesn't care. The asteroid is an excuse to take a bunch of "roughnecks" (redneck oil rig drillers) and put them somewhere in space. End of reasoning. Dead stop.

Jason Isaacs without long, blond hair.

Second, it's hilarious. Honestly funny. I was sort of worried that it would be a lot of so-called funny humor that is really just an excuse for people to make dirty jokes or talk about farts. But Bruce Willis--who is a gifted straight man--and Will Patton--also a gifted straight man--are backed up by a fairly gifted assortment of actors with strong comedic timing. I thought Billy Bob Thornton was splendid as the no-nonsense but willing to take a chance NASA director. I always get a kick out of William Fichtner (who was born into the world as guy-who-would-have-played-Nazis-if-he'd-been-alive-and-working-in-1940s-Hollywood). And Lucius Malfoy's Dad shows up! (Although I didn't know that until I went through the credits; I honestly don't recognize Jason Isaacs without long, blond hair.)

The action is way, way, way over-the-top. I reached a point, where I just had to wait for an action sequence to end to figure out what it was all about. And there are TONS of them; the movie starts BANG with scenes that usually end a movie.

The consequence of all these action scenes is a somewhat slow middle where they just pile on each other with no real purpose. Still, the movie is completely and totally and utterly what you expect it to be: girlfriend left to cry (Liv Tyler does this with such grace, you don't feel that she is pathetic); boyfriend left to try to make the final sacrifice; father left to save the world (and really, you should have seen that coming). It's a hoot because the movie knows exactly what it is doing and doesn't care that people might say, "Oh, I saw that coming!" "Oh, that's such a cliche!"

So [shrug] it's a cliche: so what? Who doesn't want to see a bunch of good guys show up at the last minute to help another bunch of good guys? And who doesn't want to see Bruce Willis convince someone to do something for the world (i.e. America) at the last minute? And why not watch the world get saved again?

In any case, this movie falls less into disaster territory and more into sci-fi/Die Hard territory.

It's just fun.

A Damsel in Flight

Chapter 3 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel in flight on my novel page!

E.P. Samokish-Sudkovskaya
Girl's Flight from Cow



The Problem of the Obnoxious Romantic Hero(ine)

"F" is coming up on my A-Z List 2. One of the "F" authors is a romance writer; pondering my review for this author led me to contemplate the problem of the obnoxious romantic heroine.

A little background:

Excellent illustrations of Devil in Winter from

a blog of romance manga

For most of the 20th century, romance novels used demure, innocent heroines alongside domineering, brusque heroes. Towards the end of the 20th century, this combo pack fell out of fashion. It has thankfully come back--that is, it is currently, more than okay to have a feisty, worldly heroine but it is also okay to have a demure, innocent heroine (the best example of the latter type in my opinion is the heroine of Kleypas's Devil in Winter who is demure and innocent while fundamentally tough).

However, for about a decade or so (basically, the 80's), it was considered very bad, dare I say "politically incorrect", to use demure, innocent heroines. Romance writers began presenting readers with pushy, opinionated heroines.

Now, there is nothing wrong with pushy, opinionated heroines (says this opinionated, occasionally pushy blog writer). However, these 80's heroines came fraught with problems.

The two main problems:

1. The heroines were (still) paired with domineering, brusque heroes (who liked having their opinions challenged).
2. Nobody had a sense of humor.

#1 is a problem, not because domineering, brusque heroes never like having their opinions challenged. As Agatha Christie points out in her books, sometimes they do; sometimes they don't--it depends on the guy. #1 is a problem because 80's romance writers would inevitably make the heroines constantly, continually, unendingly challenging.

The hero likes Captain Crunch--she doesn't understand why he doesn't eat something healthier. He reads the Times; oh, he is too, too bourgeoisie. He voted for somebody the heroine doesn't approve of--shock, shock, shock!

A laid-back hero would just shrug and go on eating his Captain Crunch. But the domineering, brusque hero who loves a challenge goes to bat for his opinion, and well, exhausted yet? I mean, can this sort of thing really go on day-in-day-out without making all parties want to crawl into a hole and die? Does it seem even vaguely . . . homelike?

Maybe. But whenever I read these types of romances, I finish the book, thinking, "That marriage has maybe a 20% chance of survival."

And I can't count the number of 80's romances I've read where half-way through, I've started yelling at the hero, "Run! Run for your life!"

Just to be clear (and fair), the reason I yell this at the hero, not the heroine, is NOT because men can't be Mr. I've-Got-To-Challenge-Everybody-All-the-Time too. It is because in these particular novels the heroine is the one who always starts the arguments--presumably, to show how tough she is. The end result . . . Run, Run for your life!

So, can this type of relationship work? Sure!

The relationship between Dr. Cox and his wife/girlfriend/ex-wife/wife Jordan is a great example of a no-nonsense, challenging, alpha female married to a fairly high-maintenance alpha male.

The difference is (1) Jordan's no-nonsense attitude means she is more likely to tell Dr. Cox to cut his crap than to challenge him to death and (2) they both have a sense of humor.

Which brings me to Problem #2.

Romance novels throughout the 20th century are surprisingly lacking in humor (I except Heyer). I think part of this was the writers, but I think part of it was the industry. Romance readers nowadays pretty much expect humor in their romances from Family Ties cuteness to hilarious Powell and Loy dialog.

And it is far, far easier to take pushiness when everyone throws up their hands and laughs at the end of the day.

I will post later about problems with the more-alpha-than-alpha-male solution that still dogs far too many romance series. (These are series in which there are 4-7 male heroes, sometimes brothers, sometimes friends. There's a book for each male; the last book is always about the toughest, strongest, most domineering male of the group, and it is almost always--with few exceptions--a flop).

A Damsel Detained

Chapter 2 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel detained on my novel page!


Hugh Welsh Diamond
Melancholia Passing into Mania

A Damsel in Distress

Chapter 1 of Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation has been published.

Read all about a damsel in distress on my novel page!


Julie Manet with Cat by Renoir from Wikimedia 

Classic Character Actor: Don Knotts

I came to Don Knotts by way of Matlock. In Season 3, he moves in next door to Matlock, playing basically an older version of Barney Fife.

After watching Don Knotts on Matlock, I put myself through a time wrap and checked out The Andy Griffith Show, and there was Don Knotts, absolutely fall-down hilarious.

The thing that impresses me so much about Don Knotts is his versatility. I've written elsewhere that we American media aficionados should be careful of assuming that British-Is-Always-Better. However, there is one thing that British television does do par excellence. Both American and British comedies will often have a comic character who is the butt of all the jokes. In American television, it seems like these characters are ALWAYS the butts, ALWAYS stupid, ALWAYS ridiculous. In British television, these characters will also often be right.

Red Dwarf accomplished this flexibility with Rimmer, played by Chris Barrie (which I wrote about here). The Andy Griffith Show astonishingly accomplishes this with Don Knotts. He's odd, quirky, occasionally vainglorious, romantic, sensitive, shrewd, and, most of all, intrinsically sweet and kind.

One of my favorite episodes is "Andy on Trial." Barney's boasts to a girl get Andy in trouble. The moment Barney realizes what has occurred, he immediately corrects the misinformation that he inadvertently passed on. His serious--yet entirely in character--monologue at the end of the episode always impresses me. Like so many actors from this era, Don Knotts was a remarkably multi-faceted actor.

And some of my favorite parts of The Andy Griffith Show occur when Barney and Andy play music (Andy Griffith was a music guy before he was an actor guy; like with many of these early television shows, the actors go back to Broadway and/or music). Although Barney is supposed to be a "bad singer" (several episodes have him trying to join the local choir), his nasally voice and harmonica work perfectly alongside Andy's guitar and what has been described as Andy's "low tenor and a soft baritone."

Some of the most touching moments in Matlock occur when the two men kick back in the living room and pay tribute to those bygone days when they sang together on Andy Taylor's porch.

I Go Dickens! Serialization of a Novel

Over the next six months, I will be taking a page out of Dickens and publishing chapters from my fantasy novel Aubrey: Remnants of Transformation.

Prospective Cover

In the aftermath of a spell-gone-bad, Aubrey discovers herself in perilous surroundings troubled by inexplicable scars and grisly memories. Initially at the mercy of deceitful fraudsters, she must outwit politicians, police detectives, and aristocrats to escape danger for safety. But is safety her true desire? As the agendas mount, Aubrey must literally as well as figuratively transform--or die.

Chapter 1 will be posted August 16, 2013 on my Novel blog (linked to Votaries of Horror).

Thanks to Eugene for providing feedback on several Aubrey drafts!

Car Superstitions: I KNOW They Can't Be True . . .

My aqua car: I swore I'd

never seen that color on a car

before--until I bought it
and starting seeing that
car color everywhere!

Every time I step out my door, get in my car, and drive, I swear the experience takes on a specific character.

One day will be Truck Day. There are trucks all over the road, cutting in front of me, slowing up traffic, trying to make bad turns.

The next day is Crazy Pedestrian Day. Suddenly, sidewalk strollers are darting out into traffic, not obeying cross-walk signals, strolling down the meridian.

And then it will be Out-of-Town Driver Day which, in Maine, usually means Massachusetts drivers trying to back all the way up (one-way) State Street, just to find a parking space.

I KNOW that the pattern is simply the result of perception--like when you buy a new car and suddenly, EVERYONE has that color car. But that doesn't stop me from determining, "Crap. Today is People-Making-Inconvenient-Left-Turns Day."

Our brains are wired to sort and select information. As an example, students of the brain often refer to the invisible gorilla experiment. The best-known version is a gorilla walking across the floor at a basketball game; when asked, "Did you see the gorilla?" about 1/2 the attendees said, "No."

Apparently, this tunnel-vision works the other way as well--to see only gorillas--which makes sense from a survival standpoint. Our brains are wired to perceive patterns, especially patterns that might save our lives.

However, this wiring often results in confidence about non-statistically viable conclusions. In response to the myth, "Your first answer is usually the right one!" Ken Jennings (in his book Because I Said So! The Truth Behind Myths, Tales, and Warnings Every Generation Passes Down to Its Kids), states the following:

One review found that, out of thirty-three studies, not a single one showed that changing answers hurt test-takers . . . [but] students are more likely to remember the times that an answer change worked out badly, because they'll feel cheated by the last-minute switch that cost them the question. Those memories tend to overshadow the (actually much more common) memories of an answer switch that went from incorrect to correct. It's similar . . . to the conviction that all changes of grocery store checkout lanes result in slower progress. It's not always true, but we're so outraged by the times when it is true that we forget the times when it's not.

Likewise, there are probably just as many trucks and pedestrians and out-of-state drivers on the road (at least in the summer) per day as any other day. But on any given day, my brain will start to sort and store a particular type of road annoyance more than any other.

This doesn't stop me from thinking, "Holy cow, this is Crazy Construction Day!" And I'll swear (no matter how irrational it is) that knowing, "Today is Stupid Blinker Day" helps me prepare against possible accidents.

I just wish someone would send out a memo beforehand!

Don't Entail Smentail, Me! The Difficulty of Entails in Persuasion and Persuadable: Last Chapter

The last chapter of Persuadable is a rebuttal to the ending of the Persuasion (2007) film.

At the end of Persuasion (2007), Captain Wentworth buys Anne's family home. The film correctly indicates that part of Anne's attraction to Mr. Elliot, or at least her attraction to marrying him, is that she will be able to live in her family home. By buying her family home, Captain Wentworth resolves that dilemma (Anne doesn't have to give up anything for love!).

Unfortunately, having Captain Wentworth buy Kellynch Hall makes mincemeat of the plot.

A possible Kellynch Hall from JASA.

If selling Kellynch Hall was this easy, why didn't Sir Walter sell it to begin with? That would be an easy way to clear his debts.

An argument could be made that Sir Walter's vanity won't allow him to give up the manor; this still begs the question: Why would he suddenly be willing to sell at the end of Persuasion (2007)? (There is a possible explanation; the film just never supplies it.)

In Austen's tome, Mr. Elliot wants Kellynch Hall because he is tired of being "Mr." and wants to try out being "Sir." He will be "Sir" without Kellynch Hall, but not to the same degree. And, in the book at least, there's no financial reason for him to give up the hall.

To explain Mr. Elliot's behavior, many movies make him (relatively) poor/in need of funds. This, of course, begs the question of why a poor Mr. Elliot would be chasing after women with small dowries and an estate encumbered with debt. However, even if we assume that Kellynch Hall, unencumbered, could bring in a decent income, there is still an underlying problem:

THE ENTAIL.

Sir Walter's vanity is not the sole block to a sale anymore than Mr. Bennet's passivity is the sole block to his disposing of Longbourn. Both estates are entailed; they can only be passed on to the nearest living male relative: Mr. Elliot or Mr. Collins. And entails in the 19th century were rather difficult to break.

They can be broken, which the passage below discusses in some detail. However, Persuasion (2007) makes no effort to explain how the entail was broken, leaving the viewer to wonder what everyone has been fussing about for 120 minutes. Captain Wentworth just, you know, walked into an estate office one day and, like, said, like, "Oh, hey, I'll buy that."

My primary problem with Persuasion (2007)--which does have some redeeming points--is this assumption of dumbness. I don't feel as if the writers were real Janeites. Instead, they come across as people writing for Austen fans, who they have imagined much the same way people imagine romance writers and readers: silly airheads who only read Austen for the cutesy romance and the girl-talk and don't pick up on anything else.

Sites like The Republic of Pemberley and JASA (above) disprove this cynical painting of such fans. Jane Austen fans (and romance writers/readers) are remarkably well-informed.

(Despite my annoyance, this kind of stereotyping is fairly typical between fan groups: one group perceives another group's interest as monolithic. I've heard classical music fans say, "All country music is the same." And I've heard country music fans say, "All classical music is the same." In fact, a professor once said the the former to me in class; when I balked, he automatically assumed I was a country music fan! Truth is, I just know too many die-hard fans of [fill in the blank]. Nothing is monolithic to the fan.)

I would have preferred Persuasion (2007) to have been written by true fans rather than by people-trying-to-make-the-fans-happy.

Setting aside the film, if you want to know how to really break an entail, keep reading!

Captain Wentworth eyed [Will and Penelope] as they entered [the drawing room of their house]. Anne curtsied; Penelope responded quickly. Will returned Captain Wentworth’s curt bow, then stood behind Penelope’s chair. His stance mirrored Captain Wentworth’s. His use of mimicry, Penelope had learned in the last three years, was a protection against outsiders. She was an insider.

“You received my letter,” Captain Wentworth said to Will.

“You wish to discuss breaking the entail to the Kellynch Hall property.”

“Sir Walter’s health is failing. He has moved permanently to Bath. He is willing to break the entail for his daughter’s sake.”

Penelope scarcely believed it—the man’s self-love was so bound up in his ancestry—but then she realized that his self-love had always been as much for the form as for the substance. All said and done, Kellynch Hall was a means to an end.

Besides, attempting to break the entail would spite Will: Better his daughter in Kellynch Hall than the despised cousin.

“Are you committed to inheriting Kellynch Hall?” Captain Wentworth asked Will.

“It’s a pleasant area,” Will said.

“You don’t strike me as a countryman,” Captain Wentworth said.

No. Will was no countryman. After all, Penelope remembered, Captain Wentworth manages men on his ship; he isn’t lacking in perception.

Captain Wentworth continued: “Are you sure you would be accepted in Kellynch?”

His eyes didn’t flicker towards Penelope, but Will said sharply, “I believe the populace would be well-satisfied with the Hall’s lord and lady.”

Across from Penelope, Anne tilted her head. For the first time in their acquaintance, she looked at Penelope with real interest. Her eyes drifted to Will who slouched, half-sitting, on the arm of Penelope’s chair. So, her gaze seemed to say, you are not just opportunists.

Penelope said smoothly, “Town life certainly has more to offer.”

“We are country-folk,” Captain Wentworth said and settled into one of the armchairs. Apparently, he had decided that Penelope and Will were sensible people who would listen to reason. “Once I leave the navy, my wife and I would prefer a country residence. Kellynch Hall would be very much to our taste. We want to acquire it.”

Penelope silently applauded Captain Wentworth. Any other husband of a baronet’s daughter would have kept up the pretense of a friendly, non-financial visit for hours. The horror of appearing vulgar!

Captain Wentworth continued, “Since the entail has to be renewed in your lifetime, Mr. Elliot, this is a chance to review your options. And since renewal may not be possible—”

Because Will and Penelope currently had no son, and Jennie [Will and Penelope's daughter] could not inherit. The Wentworths weren’t fools; they were going to press their advantage now, even if it meant dancing around their dislike of Will and Penelope. At least, Captain Wentworth disliked them. Anne seemed more curious than disgusted.

“My husband will not give up the title,” Penelope said.

She felt Will’s bright gaze on her, but she didn’t look away from Captain Wentworth’s speculative stare.

“Do you think of yourself as a baronet?” Captain Wentworth said to Will in a tone that suggested he didn’t think Will merited any title, including “captain.”

“Of course Sir Walter’s cousin should inherit the title,” Anne said quickly. “You are my father’s heir, Mr. Elliot.”

To give the Wentworths credit, Penelope doubted they cared about the title. In the City, however, a title could open doors for Will. And Penelope saw no reason why he should give up what was rightfully his.

Will said, “Penelope’s father, Mr. Shepherd, should be kept on as manager.”

“He’s too good to let go,” Captain Wentworth said. His tone added: Despite his daughter’s scandalous behavior.

Penelope resisted rolling her eyes. She knew how to play this game. Everyone brought deficiencies to the table and every deficiency had a cost. My scandalous behavior versus Anne’s non-male gender. Anne’s lack of maleness cost her more than scandalous behavior ever cost Penelope; Penelope didn’t see why she should allow anyone to forget that.

She said, “Since only my husband can break this entail, we expect to be compensated. The property is nearly disencumbered of debt. It will make a tidy profit in a few years’ time.”

Anne leaned forward, her eyes filled with the quiet speculation that marked this middle Elliot daughter. Anne knew that Penelope had no real tie to or love for Kellynch; Anne would remember how quickly Penelope left it behind the first time.

For Will, Penelope might endure it. But Will had no interest in playing squire. However much he liked the idea of a country estate, he’d never bother with the day-to-day. He would hire a qualified agent (who only skimmed slightly off the accounts) and move on to another endeavor.

Penelope could direct his energies better elsewhere. The Wentworths would get all the unpleasant noblesse oblige of being estate landlords while Will and Penelope stayed in London and watched its neighborhoods grow. The Wentworths would thrive, Penelope assumed. Kellynch Hall was their type of place.

She thought fiercely: I only want Will to thrive.

She turned back to Anne. Anne, still leaning forward, gave her a seraphic smile, and Penelope realized, Sir Walter’s unappreciated daughter is getting everything she wanted. Well, well, Miss Anne Elliot. Good for you.

Captain Wentworth said, “It is still encumbered, however. That should be a consideration.”

Will laughed. He tapped Penelope’s shoulder as he crossed to the decanter and poured himself a glass. He held out another to Captain Wentworth who took it after only a slight pause.

Détente.

E is for Entertainment

At first I thought I would have maybe two authors for "E" but a scan of the bookshelves supplied me with more!

Umberto Eco: I have read The Name of the Rose (yes, I probably read it about the same time as everyone else) and thought it very fine. In fact, there's a passage in the novel that I reference in my thesis:

Now I realized that not infrequently books speak of books: it is as if they spoke among themselves . . the library seemed all the more disturbing to me. It was then the place of a long, centuries-old murmuring, an imperceptible dialog between one parchment and another, a living thing, a receptacle of powers not to be ruled by a human mind, a treasure of secrets emanated by many minds, surviving the death of those who had produced them or had been their conveyors.

Unfortunately, I've never been able to get into any of Eco's other books although I did read half of Foucault's Pendulum and tried one or two of his others. In all fairness, I don't typically read the kind of stuff Eco writes.

Rufus Sewell

Walter D. Edmond: I read Drums Along the Mohawk years ago. I remember almost nothing about it except (1) I enjoyed the references to upstate New York (where I grew up); (2) I thought it was impressively non-soapy. I think I expected a kind of "Then the brave soldiers pursued the Red Coats across the wide vistas" type of thing (the book was written in 1936), but it actually isn't like that.

George Eliot: I read Middlemarch in college and was impressed to the nth degree. I still consider it one of the best novels in the English language. The thing I remember liking then and that I still admire now is how much of the book is about relationships and the small, everyday moments in life. Up till that point, it seemed like every English class I took began and ended with  depressing books about DEATH, DEATH, DEATH, accidents, DEATH. Here, for the first time, I was being assigned a book that talked about the human condition, not just about human tragedy.

The BBC series doesn't really measure up--despite the appearance of Rufus Sewell.

David Eddings
1931-2009

Aaron Elkins: Elkins is the author that I read for the first A-Z list. I'm happy to report that it totally paid off! I've now read a majority of Elkins' books. The first are better than the most recent (a not atypical issue for writers who are expected to produce on a constant basis), but they are all enjoyable. I recommend them!

David Eddings: I usually avoid world fantasy/science-fiction. There's a few exceptions: Tolkien (naturally) and C.J. Cherryh's Foreigner series, which is as much character-oriented as world-oriented, but hey, that's C.J. Cherryh for you!

However, I have read--and own--David Eddings' Belgariad series. In some ways, it is exactly what you would expect: every single fantasy motif that has been tested by Tolkien, Walt Disney, and generations of Medieval and 19th century English writers packed into a single group of novels.

However, the writing is easy, crisp, exciting, and tells an interesting story with decent characters. Frankly, many world-fantasy writers have done much, much worse.

Richard Paul Evans: I have to mention Richard Paul Evans, not because I enjoy his books but because I read one for my thesis. My brother Eugene's hilarious review of the same book pretty much says it all.

I Love the World or Why Education Through Shock is Stupid (continued)

There are many reasons why people try to make others think All is Doomed from true belief to simple excitement (like Adam Savage's immense enjoyment in blowing things up). I believe one reason has to do with excessive youthfulness.

In his book Your Movie Sucks, Roger Ebert relates an exchange of public letters between him and the creators of a movie that Ebert awarded 0 (as in nada, zero, zilch) stars due to its nihilistic violence. The producer and director printed a reply, arguing (in essence), "But evil exists in the world. It is our awesome responsibility to point it out!!"

To which Ebert responded that pointing out evil just to point out evil is rather a waste of time. What, he asked the movie-makers, was your view on evil? (You see, my students, even movie-makers need a thesis!) He then provides one of the best statements ever made about writing:

Predestination may be useful in theology, but as a narrative strategy, it is self-defeating. 

Or, to quote David Foster Wallace:

Look man, we’d probably most of us agree that these are dark times, and stupid ones, but do we need fiction that does nothing but dramatize how dark and stupid everything is?

(Thanks to my sister Ann for the latter quote!)

In his letter to the anxiously insightful movie-makers, Ebert states, "Your real purpose in making the movie, I suspect, was not to educate, but to create a scandal that would draw an audience."

Now here I have to disagree with Ebert and give the movie-makers the benefit of the doubt. I think at a fundamental level the movie-makers did think they were pointing out something that nobody else had noticed. I don't know if the movie-makers were/are young, but this hypersensitivity to the oddness/unfairness/haphazardness of the world is a characteristic of youth; they've just discovered evil, and they can't BELIEVE how the rest of the world just keeps going to work and shopping at the mall. Why isn't everyone curled into fetal balls sobbing?! We must shock them into knowing what we know! We must kick-start the angst!!

It reminds me of why I seldom read commentary on Internet news items. So much of it is filled with people informing other people that they just don't get "it" to which the other people reply that the first set of  people just don't get "it" more.

I recently came across such a, ah, parallel conversation (I hesitate to call it dialog) over a Mythbusters episode in which the commentators fluctuated between angry commentary ("I can't believe people think the show's conclusion regarding this particular myth was correct! All you people who liked the episode are hiding your heads in the sand!") to sanctimonious tut-tutting ("Don't you know that all television is pacifying entertainment? How could you believe anything you saw on this show? You are so stupid to take it seriously.")

Congrats to Arishicat for a great image!

Neither extreme is necessary. I'll state upfront that I've learned a great deal from Mythbusters, mostly about water pressure. It's the sort of thing that comes up in a lot of their experiments but is rarely remarked on directly (although the "Underwater Car Myth" episode was especially enlightening). I learned about water pressure in high school, but the visuals sure help!

I will also admit that I tend to ignore/dismiss the more sociological/psychological experiments on the show, like the ones  involving polygraphs and hypnosis. The reason is simple. When Jamie, Adam, and the build team blow up rockets, they can build 100, then blow them up one by one to get a pretty decent sample size. But the sociological/psychological experiments rely on two, maybe three, maybe five subjects, which is just not a big enough sample.

In neither scenario, however, do I need to be WARNED to save myself from the evil show/military-industrial-entertainment complex.* I actually don't believe anything that I see on television (or read on the Internet) or anything that people tell me any more than I (should) automatically dismiss it. Cynicism is no better than gullibility when it comes to making reliable judgments. And information can be shelved. It can wait. Since I'm no longer a student, I don't have to decide today that something is true or false although I will eventually. (And if someone tries to get me decide today, that person likely wants to sell me something.)

I've met far too many so-called educated people who ostentatiously dumped a set of ideas, information, or principles, only to promptly adopt another set of ideas, information, or principles without question. Their approach seemed to be motivated more by a desire to belong to the edgiest of edgy cliques than a need for real understanding.

Consequently, I am very wary of professors who use SHOCK to "help" me (or my students) develop critical thinking skills. "I'm going to make people think by showing them how awful things can get!" goes the cry. Setting aside this approach's bullying nature, from what I've seen, it doesn't work--at least not with the most perceptive students who keep their own counsel. After all, real thought is rarely accompanied by a complete reduction of the will. 

Which is all to say that to a relative degree, I can endure true belief in doomsdaying (something that someone believes on his or her own account) far easier that I can endure education through so-called shock.

*I actually don't even need to be warned by Jamie and Adam not to try their experiments at home, though I gather their warnings are mostly aimed at teens; remembering my brothers in their teens, the warnings are necessary--although how many teens actually listen is debatable. I can just see a mother somewhere staring down at a pile of exploded paint cans; "But Jamie and Adam told you not to do it!" she cries. (Of course, my own mother just told my brothers to go wash themselves off.)

I Love the World Too or I'm So Tired of Doomsdaying

Lately, I've gotten fed up with people trying to tell me how bad things are/the future is doomed!!! Yeah, life is tough. Shoot, I don't know if I'll be able to pay my bills this summer. Sure, life=trials & tribulations (and I don't need pundits or well-meaning champions of the cause-de-jure to tell me so).

Yep, human history involves war, disease, and economic collapse. But being gloomy and doom-filled isn't going to stop those things from happening. Angst is a pretty poor weapon to wield whether one is trying to save a country, a company, or a casserole . . . unless the point is to depress people so much they decide there isn't any point.

THIS is a much better way to face the present and the future:

And so is this:


Granted, angst and doomsdaying klatches often operate as temporary stress-relief--like grouching about one's day, although I think far too many pundits and champions and zealots actually get pleasure from making others feel hopeless.

Stupidly so since as a philosophy/approach to life, angsty doomsdaying is pretty useless. We fight for what matters. And what matters matters when we allow ourselves to accept it with joy, gratitude, and good old excitement!

I don't usually preach my religion on Votaries; it isn't the point of the blog, and I'm a big fan of doing what is appropriate to the situation, but 2 Nephi 2:25 really does say it best (with a slight pronoun tweak):

Adam fell that we may be
And we are that we might have joy.

Isn't it just awesome!

Do Mrs. Clay and Mr. Elliot Marry? Chapter 18 of Persuadable

The end of Austen's Persuasion states that Mrs. Clay and Mr. Elliot have run off to London together; it is heavily implied that despite the risk, Mrs. Clay will be able to bring Mr. Elliot "up

St. John's Wood Church was built
in 1814. Persuasion and
Persuadable take place
in 1814 and 1815. This means
it is possible for Will
and Penelope to marry
here--but only just.

to scratch":

Mrs Clay's affections had overpowered her interest, and she had sacrificed, for the young man's sake, the possibility of scheming longer for Sir Walter. She has abilities, however, as well as affections; and it is now a doubtful point whether his cunning, or hers, may finally carry the day; whether, after preventing her from being the wife of Sir Walter, he may not be wheedled and caressed at last into making her the wife of Sir William.

As indicated in Persuadable's Chapter 16, my Will Elliot is not adverse to marriage. I basically shortened the realization--hey, this woman can manage my life better than I can--by several years (in the original version of Persuadable, I had them marry three years after moving to London). However, Will--a cunning man--realizes that Penelope Clay will never believe such an abrupt change of heart ("I want you to be my mistress" to "I want you to be my wife"). He plans to marry her once they reach London but doesn't use that particular tactic to lure her. In other words, he plans to surprise her.

A surprise wedding led me to (more) research on marriage customs. I have discussed these customs elsewhere, especially in my commentary for Mr. B Speaks! where I discuss marriage as well as mistresses.

This time, my research led me to the Temple. The Temple is an area in London where many law offices can be found (think Rumpole of the Bailey). The Inns of Court can also be found there (think American Bar Association). The Doctors' Commons that Will refers to was specifically for lawyers who practiced civil law in ecclesiastical courts. They might, for example, deal with matrimonial issues. Many of the ecclesiastical courts in England have since been disbanded, the duties handed over to purely civilian or common law courts. (The Doctors' Commons would become less and less relevant an institution throughout the nineteenth century.)

In the following passage, Will discusses how a marriage, helped by the Doctors' Commons, would go forward.

"I’m returning to London,” Will told Jeremy.

“What about Mrs. Clay?”

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

Jeremy sighed. “Do you want me to send Sir Walter an anonymous letter warning him against his daughter’s dear friend? That might force her hand.”

“No,” Will said. He thrust a hand through his hair, making the strands stand upright.

He wanted Penelope to come to him because she’d weighed the sacrifices of marrying Sir Walter against the benefits and decided Will was the better option.

He didn’t tell Jeremy that he intended to marry her. Jeremy was willing to defend Will’s interests, but he wouldn’t understand why Will needed more than a mistress, why he wanted a wife, someone who could accompany him to public events, meet his friends, and deal with his properties.

“You know, even if you seduce Mrs. Clay, Sir Walter could still marry. The only person he wouldn’t remarry for is Elizabeth.”

“I won’t marry Elizabeth,” Will said absently.

He couldn’t tell even Jeremy the rest: that he wasn’t sure the baronetcy mattered. What would it gain him but more people who would expect him to live up to an unrealistic set of expectations? Sally’s friends had been bad enough. Being respectable would be worse.

“Good luck,” Jeremy said.

Will circled Bath to walk up Milsom Street to his hotel on George. He was stopped in front of numerous shops and questioned about the “latest engagement!” The gossips weren’t surprised by the match—no one but Sir Walter and Elizabeth questioned the suitability of a navy captain marrying the second daughter of a baronet—but by its suddenness. Wasn’t Anne supposed to marry her cousin? Was Mr. Elliot terribly devastated?

No one asked directly but avid pity underlay everyone’s questions: How are you feeling Mr. Elliot? How is your cousin?

Will claimed long-standing knowledge of Anne’s true feelings and said he hoped she would be happy—many, many times on the way to his hotel, where he ordered an early supper and told his far-from-overworked valet that he was staying in for the night.

If Penelope came, he would take her to London. He would set her up in a villa in St. John’s Wood—not the townhouse in Mayfair where he and Sally had lived. St. John’s Wood was not as posh a neighborhood but Will liked its potential. He would obtain a license from the Doctors’ Commons; Will knew members from his days at the Temple. Within fifteen days, they could marry. Perhaps, he would suggest that Penelope meet him near St. John’s Wood Church—for a stroll, perhaps. And then he would surprise her with the license.

If she came . . .

Aren't Directors Supposed to Have an Eye? or What Was Donner Thinking?

I recently watched the beginning of Superman II/The Richard Donner cut and was flabbergasted.

Theater version above/
Richard Donner cut to the right. 

Which looks potentially more exciting?

Before I continue, to lay my cards on the table, the Christopher Reeves Superman-Lois Lane relationship has never been one of my favorites. I far prefer Lois & Clark's interpretation where Lois comes to love the "real" man rather than the demigod before the relationship can actually work. But I was in the mood for some older Superman, so I picked up Superman II. The Richard Donner cut was the version my library had.

In the released-to-theater version of Superman II, Clark and Lois go to Niagara Falls. When Clark/Superman rescues a boy who plummets over a railing, Lois becomes convinced that Clark IS Superman and jumps into the river herself. Clark manages to get her rescued without revealing himself. However, when they return to the suite, he trips (while talking to Lois) and falls in a fire.When Lois sees that his hands are completely untouched, she realizes she was right.

The entire sequences of events is exciting, action-packed, and filmed against wide vistas (Niagara Falls, a large suite). The a-ha moment is believable; Lois is less cocky and more WOW, which is how she should feel!

In the Richard Donner cut, the initial scene (the rescue of the boy) takes place but then we skip to Clark and Lois in a small, enclosed space. During the scene, Clark paces while Lois mostly sits, standing once. She shoots Clark/Superman from a sitting position. When he doesn't die, he--standing in one position--proclaims that she has figured him out.

First of all, she SHOOTS him? If one accepts the proposition that no one immediately recognizes that Clark is Superman, there is no way that Lois could be 100% sure of his double identity, especially when she jumped out of a Daily Planet office window and Superman didn't swoop to her rescue. And she SHOOTS him?

Second, the scene in the hotel suite is boring as in boring shots, boring blocking, and boring dialog. It's not even marginally exciting as a scene. It's like watching a soap opera or Lucas's actors in Star Wars I, II, and III--without even the wide vistas on blue screens to give things more oomph!

I thought directors were supposed to be visually oriented--all about the "look" of something. Granted, the first Harry Potter movie comes across as a slideshow, and Lucas doesn't have the foggiest idea how to direct people. But still--what else would attract someone to work in film but the visual element? (Nolan, for example, makes perfect sense to me. His stories are over the place, but boy, his movies LOOK like movies.)

It's like a writer who wants to tell a story but can't stand words. I mean, huh?

Having written all this, I must acknowledge that on IMDB, the Richard Donner cut has more stars than the original, so maybe I just don't get the Reeves-Superman universe . . .

Stargate: Season 8 Review

I was very surprised by Season 8. Season 7 was so military, I assumed that the direction of the Stargate franchise was set, no looking back. And perhaps, overall, it is (Seasons 9 and 10 still to come!). But Season 8 was refreshingly full of one-story, adventure episodes.

Episodes #1 & 2--New Order: The season starts, however, with dreary military stuff (I'm not anti-military; I just get tired of having to keep all the enemies straight). It definitely relies on viewers with full knowledge of the show's previous seasons.

There are some good parts, naturally, and the resolution does tie the two-parter's story-lines together in a believable way.

Ba'al looking wry

Episode #3--Lockdown: Anubis is still alive?

Episode #4--Zero Hour: One of my favorite bad guys, Ba'al, shows up. I love his clothes! I also think he delivers nice ambiguity alongside a touch of wryness (more on this later).

I also like the point of view in this episode--it's about all the stuff that happens back in SG-1 when the team is off adventuring!

Episode #5--Icon: This episode addresses the unattended consequences of contact, especially when zealots are involved. I reference this episode, positively, in my post "Why (So Much) Dystopian Fiction Is Stupid".

Episode #6--Avatar: The classic "virtual-training-tool-run-amuck" episode. It provides interesting insights though I have to point out the silliness of nobody saying, "Hey, let's NOT turn on the machine that thinks for itself!"

Episode #7--Affinity: I got upset with this episode--why is Teal'c living off-base any more dangerous than anyone else living off-base? Yes, he was targeted but other members of SG-1 have been targeted. And I liked Teal'c's apartment life; of course he wears 70's clothes in his off-hours!

Episode #8--Covenant: Another "challenge to the Stargate Command conspiracy" episode. I don't much care for these episodes, mostly because the Stargate writers twist themselves into knots. By temperament, they are on the side of the truth-tellers, but they know the "truth" won't work for the show. Some interesting ideas are discussed. Otherwise . . . eh.


Wayne Brady

Episode #9--Sacrifices: Another Teal'c episode involving Jaffa marriage, a planet with the Goa'uld, and Teal'c's high maintenance girlfriend.

Episode #10--Endgame: Another hunt-for-the-gate episode. I get the impression that these episodes, which are overloaded with exposition, are necessary to plot development, so the writers can do cool episodes later. Still, I find them rather uninteresting.


Maybourne

Episode #11--Gemini: Very clever. I wasn't sure throughout the episode how trustworthy Replicator Carter might be!

Episodes #12--Prometheus Unbound: This episode is very funny. Daniel and the chick-of-the-week have great banter. I wouldn't mind seeing them together again.

Episode #13--It's Good to Be King: Maybourne! I always like it when he shows up. He looks quite good in his Henry V-like outfit. The episode is also a great pay-off for the character. And Wayne Brady makes an appearance!

Episode #14--Full Alert: Another Trust organization episode. Oh, yuck. (Insert snoozing.)

Episode #15--Citizen Joe: This is a great episode! Totally hilarious!! It is Stargate told from the point of view of someone who isn't already ensconced in the Stargate Universe. Consequently, the episode delivers critiques of the show as well as tributes--rather like "Wormhole X-Treme" from Season 5. The episode is also full of casual jokes, like the movers who come to take Joe's house: Brothers Grimm Reps.

And it is touching: Joe sobbing over Daniel's death (well, one of Daniel's deaths) is heart-wrenching.

I love Jack's attitude (at the end of the episode) about seeing Joe's life over the years: "I found it relaxing."

Episode #16 & #17--Reckoning: Replicator Carter makes the replicators marginally more interesting but passionless revenge is kind of dull. And Anubis is still around? Seriously? Please get rid of him already.

I do like how the Jaffa don't care about the replicators but use the distraction to further their own ends.

And Daniel's storyline is interesting.

The most interesting part of the story, however, is Ba'al. The actor manages to give the character this odd/attractive combination of arrogance, fear, wryness, and, even, flirtatiousness. He is far, far, far more interesting than Anubis.

I have to say, though, that even with Anubis, the Stargate writers managed to avoid The Mentalist's problems re: omniscient, boring bad guys, mostly because the Stargate writers didn't take their omniscient, boring bad guy too seriously. They weren't trying to point out the awfulness of life, just have fun.

Okay, exactly how many times can Daniel die????

Episodes #18--Threads: Neat episode. I like Daniel in alternative reality episodes and hey, George Dzunda shows us! (Can one really ask for more?) And it is a decent pay-off (hopefully permanently) for Anubis.

Episode #20 & #21--Moebius: This is a VERY clever "time-travel/everything has changed" episode. The time traveling isn't confusing, so much as silly. But it doesn't matter. The real issue here is "What would our characters be like without the Stargate Program?" The answer is hilarious and cute. Amanda Tapping especially does a great job as adorably nerdy Dr. Carter. And Jack and Carter finally get together!

I read somewhere that the Stargate producers were reluctant to make the Jack/Sam relationship "canon" (and never totally did). My personal theory is that since Richard Dean Anderson clearly wanted to retire from Stargate (he had a good run!) and Amanda Tapping was likely going to stay on into the sequels, the producers wanted to keep their options open. That Jack and Sam ARE in a relationship is clearly implied by the end of this season; the time travel storyline lets us actually see it.

Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill

Of course, Stargate doesn't rely on the Jack-Sam relationship the way, say, Bones relies on Booth/Brennan or X-Files on Scully/Mulder (the latter was always going to be canon whether it ever developed romantically or not). Still, I was glad to see Jack and Sam get together--in their mutually laid-back way!