Untold Contest

Anticipating the September release of Untold by Sarah Rees Brennan, we took pictures of each other reading Unspoken, the first book in the trilogy. The setting is Sully, a historic plantation pretty close to where we live. (Our drive there was a saga in itself, as was the drive back. We did see a dude indulging in some zen jogging though, so that was quite fitting.) It was built in 1794 and owned by one of Virginia's most prominent families. We debated a few different costume ideas, but we decided to go with a cute, quirky style like Kami's. It was crazy hot outside and we got a few strange looks from a curator and some guys doing lawn work, but we had a great time.

--Flannery & Bridget

Horror at the Dentist

Spoiler alert: the horror has nothing to do with my teeth.
 
I came home Friday before last and went to the dentist on Monday. All the little rooms in the dentist’s office have screens, and in dentist visits past those screens have shown the exploits of various aquatic creatures. This time I was presented not with ocean adventures but Seasonal Forests.
 
I read the title on the screen and expected some relatively dull panoramic and overhead shots of rocks and trees. There would be peace and tranquility in the wonderful land of nature, and I would be utterly bored without the usual funny-looking fishies.
 
OH, HOW WRONG I WAS.
 
The video started with a snowy forest and a small dark furry thing trudging across the landscape. I’m pretty zoologically savvy, but I couldn’t quite identify it. (I’ve since done a little research and believe it to have been a wolverine.) It made its way up to a lighter-colored furry thing and began pawing at it until I could see that it was bloody and dead. Then the dark furry thing quite simply made off with a limb.
 
I did not sign up for this, I thought to myself, staring at the screen with a wide-open mouth while the hygienist picked at my teeth.
 
It is a truth acknowledged by most anyone over the age of maybe four or so that fish eat other fish. But for some reason, there’s nothing unsettling about watching a bloodless gulp. There’s a fish, just minding his own—whoops, there he goes—wrong place at the wrong time, bro. Not so in the Seasonal Forest with the carrion-eating wolverine!
 
Next were large turkey-like birds with large bodies close to the ground and magnificent plumage blooming from their behinds. Again I wished for narration to tell me what they were. I expected a slow peacock strut, but these guys ran like ninjas. I remember a moose whose solitary journey was captured by a stunning helicopter shot, which was awesome.
 
My favorite featured creatures were the baby ducks because only soulless people are immune to the charm of baby ducks. At first I was mildly surprised to see a mama duck in a tree. To my delight, the camera showed several ducklings also inside the tree. To my alarm, the ducklings waddled out to the edge of the hole and literally fell out of the tree and onto the ground after their mother. A camera on the forest floor showed how they bounced when they hit bottom.
 
There were only four ducklings wandering off after their mama in the end, but I probably watched each of them fall twice if not three times. The crash landings had been shown from different angles at different speeds, reminding me of a bizarre video game. Catch the baby ducks! Guide the baby ducks to a target on the ground! See how high you can make the baby ducks bounce!
 
There were of course blossoming flowers to accompany the baby animal segment. I watched way too many time-lapsed explosions of pistils and stamens. Not going to lie, it was a little unsettling. Weirder still was the fact that I was subjected to the whole thing in reverse as well. At one point, the camera focused on a plot of pansy-like flowers in yellow and violet. The video moved faster and slower, faster and slower, and the development of the flowers progressed and regressed, progressed and regressed.
 
Is this what being on drugs is like? I wondered, lying sedately in the chair, waiting for the x-ray results.
 
Not long after came some…lovely…insect footage. With additional research I’ve determined that these were the seventeen-year cicadas that swarmed the East Coast when I was in fourth grade. They’re supposed to be coming back this year, which is distressing. I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with them until I was twenty-five, but apparently there are different broods with cycles set a few years apart. The video was only slightly short of terrifying. Brought back some enchanting memories. Can’t wait for the return of the devil spawn!
 
I was at the dentist for a pretty long time. The doctor had been out at a meeting and came a little late, and there was a problem with my x-ray results showing up on the computer screen. All this meant that I was still in the chair when the video ended. The screen went black and the credits rolled.
 
Narration by Sigourney Weaver? Music by the BBC Concert Orchestra? What is this? I thought.
 
I had started off thinking that the video was supposed to be the visual equivalent of elevator music. Turned out to be the tenth episode of Planet Earth. The horrors of the food chain, the careening ducklings, the psychedelic plant remix, and the horde of demon bugs all suddenly made sense.

This is a documentary television series meant to show nature in all of its cruel and disturbing glory, I said to myself wisely. Not meant for the serenity of bored or anxious dental patients. But then why on earth were they playing it at the dentist? I would have loved the educational aspect of it if there had been some way of knowing what the heck was going on, but I’m not sure how universal that feeling is.

 
I guess I feel the same way about nature as some people feel about the dentist. I’m not afraid of the dentist. It’s a bit unpleasant, but nothing about it scares me. Nature, on the other hand… nature is frightening! Nature is weird and gross and will surprise you just when you think you’ve got it figured out.

With nature and dentistry both, you think that everything is reasonable and then you discover something horrifying.

 
Brush your teeth and never go to Australia.

--Bridget

The Adventures of Merlin (Warning: Here There Be Spoilers)

Remember when I said I was going to blog my way through Merlin? Yeah, well, I finished the series about a month ago.

...I promise I had a life away from my computer screen. I promise.

Anyways. I find myself in an odd position--I liked the show, a lot, but remain as unimpressed with it as I did when I started out. Okay, I'm a little more impressed by it--but it really is a pretty bad show.

When I first started watching, I would make a tally every time "destiny" was mentioned. There got to be so many tallies that I had to stop. The episodes are repetitive and get boring very quickly: There is some magical problem, either a creature or a sorcerer, which is trying to kill either Uther or Arthur, and Merlin is The Only One who can save them, because of his Awesome And Unsurpassed Power. A friend pointed out that a lot of TV shows are formulaic in that way, and I suppose that's true--but other shows have some kind of side plot that advances with each episode, or the characters grow or change, perceptibly, and I didn't feel like Merlin had that. It was just monotonous; and I don't think I'd have minded, except for a few things that I couldn't get over.

One was the way in which Merlin kept running off to the Dragon (of Destiny) for help--sometimes I could see when it was necessary but other times I thought he could have handled the problem on his own, or didn't think the Dragon's input was relevant. Merlin let himself be influenced too much by the Dragon. Another was that in the very first episode Uther was talking about how Camelot had been free from magic for years and years, how he had eradicated it. And yet the show was based around all of the magical problems that plague the kingdom, all of the sorcerers and creatures that are clearly not eradicated. The show's most fundamental concept is hypocritical. It wouldn't have been that hard to have a subplot about how the Old Religion was rising again (that might have been really interesting!), or even just have someone--anyone! It doesn't matter who!--say a line along the lines of "Gee, this is strange, isn't it?"

Another problem, along the same lines, was that not only was the show formulaic, it was formulaic to the point of using almost the exact same lines episode after episode, particularly when it came to Uther. "Magic is evil, magic is evil"--it gets boring, and then annoying, and the force of Uther's hatred loses any impact it might have had. The characters never change--not Uther; not Arthur: caught between his father's will and his own, but always falling back into compliance; every episode it seems like they're going through the same motions.

I was disappointed by how they handled Morgana's becoming evil. She was such a great character before--passionate, funny, smart--and after she started attempting to ruin Camelot, she lost all of that. She became flat and one-dimensional; there wasn't even any internal conflict or regret or second thoughts--she was pure evil, defined by her desire for revenge. And no one is pure evil. Conflicted villains are the best, both because they're realistic and because when they're done well, they're interesting; and it was like she had never been the person we came to know in the beginning seasons, like she never even remembered seasons 1 and 2. I loved her relationship with Morgause--even that would have been great, seeing a villainous sister duo! But that didn't happen.

The show's family-friendliness also got on my nerves. I have nothing against family-friendly shows; I think it's great that they're getting kids interested in history and mythology and that there's a show that parents and kids can both watch and enjoy together. But the fact that there would be scenes in which people would stab each other, and there would never be any blood on the weapon, ever, irked me. I'm not saying everything should be bloody and violent! I think the media and entertainment industries have made people too desensitized to violence, and don't appreciate violence for violence's sake--but not having any blood at all is just unrealistic and not only takes away from the show by drawing the viewer out of the world that's been created, but takes away the impact that showing realistic wounds would have had--violence has consequences, and showing the results of those consequences makes it real for the character and the audience in a way that passing over it doesn't.

So, with all these complaints, I was surprised to find myself enjoying the show. I really started to like it after Uther dies and Arthur becomes king. I've said that the characters don't grow, but that's not strictly true--they  grow, they just grow very slowly and mostly after Uther dies, and it's a long time to wait. We see Arthur grow so much more as a character after he's free from the constraints of Uther's mindless bigotry. I liked seeing how the show interpreted the myths; as a history nerd it was fun to see how things were portrayed. And the cast remained super hot, which just made everything better. I mean really, Knights of the Round Table. I think I know the kind of criteria Arthur had in mind when he was selecting y'all, and I very much approve.

It's very enjoyable to watch all of the characters interact with each other; they have great friendships, great relationships, that are interesting and heartwarming and make you care about them all. You can see the love between them, and you feel included in that love. That, I think, is why I kept watching--I came to care about the characters, and wanted to stick with them till the end. Arthur and Gwen's relationship was sweet if a little sappy. (And I was wrong about Gwen, she turned out to be a very strong character. Though I'm not sure I approve of her returning to Arthur after he banished her. From a storyteller's perspective, I think it would've been cool if the two of them went their separate ways, Gwen married that bandit-lord and Arthur married Mithian, and then later they had to reconnect as respective rulers and deal with their history and any lingering feelings. From a person-perspective, I think it was crappy of Arthur to treat her like that and I'm not sure I like the underlying message being sent when Gwen goes back to him--she doesn't have to take that from him, and it felt like throughout that story arc, until she and Arthur were reconciled, her character was defined by her love and pining for Arthur. To some extent it was like that even after they reconciled.) Arthur and Merlin's relationship was the real treat of the show. The bromance episodes were few and far between during the first seasons, and I got annoyed by Arthur's awful treatment of Merlin. But then the bromance scenes came more frequently, and the two of them were just so funny and cute and touching and the last episode was heartbreaking. Really heartbreaking. (They should have kissed. Just saying.)

I know there's a lot of controversy over the very end of the show, but I actually liked it. Once I got over my initial surprise that that was how it was ending--no scenes of Gwen's grief, no aftermath--just a clean break with Gwen's coronation, and then the quick connection to the modern day--I thought it was a clever way to do it. It really adds a sense of finality but also continuity, and puts the series firmly in the context of a story, and in the past. We don't get to see Gwen's reign, we don't get to see what happens to the knights or Camelot or Gaius, or even the rest of Merlin's life--we're not supposed to know that. That's not part of the story we've been experiencing. And the sudden contrast between the mise-en-scene of Camelot and the mise-en-scene of the present day reminds us that it's a legend that we've been witnessing--the Arthurian legends that we know on paper have been given substance and depth, given life; and now they are dead. It's not sad. It's the closing of a book.

Now that Merlin is over, I must find other TV to watch. I'm really enjoying Orphan Black on BBC America, though it's not normally the kind of thing I go for; don't talk to me about the current season of Doctor Who unless you want a long conversation about the problems with the recent episodes; Smash is being cancelled, unfortunately (I kind of saw it coming, and I don't blame them, but still!). I've spent the last week re-watching Avatar: The Last Airbender on Netflix Instant Watch, a most beloved show that I'm really enjoying watching straight through, and I may or may not have almost finished it. But it's summer, and I'm sure I'll find other things to do with my time. Like reading Le Morte D'Arthur, and re-watching this fan trailer over and over again. Long Live Arthur Merthur ;)

--Flannery

Elegy for a Pool

I brought my swimsuit and goggles at the beginning of the year, stuffed them into the outside pocket of my suitcase the day before we drove up for first-year move-in. But for one reason or another, I never felt like swimming. I had dance classes, I had rehearsals, I had books to read and papers to write.

With a sense that time really has run out, I borrow my roommate’s swim cap (oh, the glamor) and head to the basement of our central building. I find the locker room, leave my stuff unattended, sign in, and wade into an empty lane. There are two guards and one other swimmer, and it is very quiet.

As I paddle myself across and back, I’m very glad I learned to swim as a kid. Thanks, I think in the general direction of my mother. I’ve never had a passion for swimming—it wears me out, and getting water in your nose hurts­—but I’m comfortable in the water. I put my head under, my legs give me a good start off the wall, and there I go. I’m determined to stay in the lane for at least a half-hour.

As in dance and music and writing, I find the peace of concentration in my slow breaststroke. I have upcoming exams and a paper to revise, but it’s hard to think about Integrated Pest Management and the Crittenden Compromise and To the Lighthouse when you’re swimming. It’s hard to think about anything but swimming when you’re swimming. Your head bobs up and down, up and down, and you experience the mental equivalent of… not of white noise, but ambient music. Not waiting-room-elevator-your-call-is-very-important-to-us music either. This music is softer and gentler.

How funny that you can move through water in ways you can't move through air…

You’re going to cut your hair short when you get home, it will probably look fantastic…

A boy you had a crush on an age ago, why are you thinking about him…

Caught in a wild ocean, waiting for rescue, a giant whale sails past…

The muscles in your back, the muscles in your legs, the synchronicity of the body…

You’re going to cut your hair short when you get home, it will probably be a disaster…

A little girl comes for her swimming lesson. She is too cute. It makes me sad that she’ll never have another lesson in this pool, which is closed as of today.

It isn’t going to reopen in the fall, either. They’re filling it with concrete and using it as storage space while they renovate the library, or so I hear. Not that they’ll have the money to renovate anything for a few years, so that makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it? Also if they wanted storage space, why fill the pool? You could totally store stuff in an empty pool, right?

It’s not like I know anything about development, but it seems a great shame. What about all the little kids who need their swimming lessons? What about the student lifeguards who are out of a job? What about students who will have to trek across the street to the big university pool and trudge back all wet and gross?

Goodbye, fair pool. I hardly knew you. I’m not sure your loss will have too much of an impact on me personally. But when the urge to swim strikes again, I will regret the time we did not spend together and denounce the administration that decided you were unworthy of a place on campus.

--Bridget