I wrote this over Easter for the lgbtfest   . I don’t know if any of you on my f-list are Firefly fans, but feel free to read.  :)

Title: The Art of Conversation
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing/characters: Inara Serra
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters or this ’verse. They are the property of Mutant Enemy et al.
Prompt: # 321. Inara Serra, during her Companion training: Inara feels uncomfortable at first with the idea that she'd need to be available to both men and women, because it means she needs to get comfortable with her own sexuality. How does she deal?
Warnings: Nothing explicit.
Author's Notes: Many thanks to my beta llyfrgell for her keen eye and insightful comments.

This book has made a very profound impression on me. I have wanted to read it for long while now and I am so glad I finally did.

At long last, I've seen The Golden Compass.  

For the most part, I was fairly impressed with its quality. The cinematography was ace and the realisation of Pullman's world was done with style and in good taste. Dakota Blue Richards (the young actress who played Lyra) was… OK, I’ll give her that. She wasn’t my Lyra, but my Lyra doesn’t exist.  However, I still might have liked another girl. For instance, Dakota Fanning. If only Dakota Fanning could have played Lyra… that girl is scarily good at everything she does. It freaks me out. I bet they could get her to do a British accent no problem! *laughs*

I think perhaps the best aspect of the movie (in my opinion) was the portrayal of the armoured bears. Ian McKellan was the perfect voice for Iorek. So much resonance and authority.  Everything about the Sky-Iron wearing bears sent shivers down my back. I was thrilled during Iorek's fight.  I was also favourably impressed with the way they shot the deaths of humans and the ‘death’ of their daemons. Bursting into golden sparkling particles for a brief moment and then nothing more. Really shows how transient life is...

OK… so this is me doing this review, thus I have to have a major bitch and whine now. What the bloody HELL was that ending about? I don’t give a crap if they’re not sure they’ll get the funding to make the next two books into movies, that doesn’t mean they have to screw the movie up with a ‘happily-ever-after’ type ending. They literally disappeared into the sunrise, off to save the world. Noooooo! That ending really really jarred me. It didn’t fit with the movie and it certainly didn’t fit the book. 

On another irritated note, the mention of the alethiometer as being called a ‘golden compass’ really bugged me. It was wasn’t enough that they called the movie after the American title, but they had to go and harp on about it in the dialog.  “It’s an alethiometer,” they’d say. “Also known as a golden compass!” And… “Oh look! An alethiometer… a golden compass.” You could almost hear the parentheses.  *grumps*

I am well aware that Pullman doesn’t give a crap how they adapted the book. He believes his book is still his book, whatever they did in the movie. It makes me so glad that I have to book to come back to. The movie was light fun and little frivolous. It was nice to see Lyra’s world as though it were real (the set designers and the costume crews out did themselves) but there is nothing like the original. There is nothing like having that world that I can step into with nothing more than my own imagination. 

All in all a fun movie, but alas, the movie is never the book. Therein lies the rub.  

~ nahara

P.S. I saw this movie advertised at my campus cinema in the most bizarre display of stupidity. What were the publicity crew on anyways? Apparently, the lead character was a girl named Lyla and she was from Cambridge. *scowls*

Um. No.

Title: No Words

Pairing: narusasu / sasunaru

Rating: M for mature content

Genre: Drama / Angsty!Sasuke

Warnings: Yaoi – nothing graphic, so just a word of caution

Word Count: 1,060 (give or take)

Summary: Sasuke has never been good with words; his language is made up of actions and deeds.

A/N: I’ve conveniently ignored the latest Naruto manga chapters for this fic (artistic license and all that)… so heads-up.

~ nahara

I saw Elizabeth tonight at my campus cinema. There were many things about it that I loved and there many things I disliked.

I’ll start with the good.

The best thing about the movie was Cate Blanchett. My lord that woman can act. She commanded that screen. I was blown away and I think she stole the movie completely. Not a single other actor had a look in. She had presence and passion. Blanchett made a truly fantastic portrayal of the Virgin Queen.

The scenery of the movie was epic, from the sweeping landscapes of the English coastline to the beautiful architecture of Wells Cathedral.  In fact, everything about this movie cried out: EPIC!  The score was triumphant and dramatic, the lighting was wonderful and atmospheric and the costumes were to die for. There was something wonderfully opulent and excessive about watching Elizabeth, The Golden Years. It was like being able to taste Elizabethan England. The grand scale and sheer majesty of the movie gave me the shivers.

Now for the bad.

By Sharon Creech

I read Walk Two Moons years ago but it remains one of my all time favourite books. I’ve been trying to get my friends to read it ever since without much success. Mostly this is because I have a large group of friends who just don’t like reading but also because this is a ‘children’s book’ and they think it is somehow less valid. I assure you that this book is beautiful and poignant and worth your time.

It is the story of thirteen year old Sal Hiddle who moves from her farm in rural Kentucky to flat, suburban Ohio. She moves with her father, who needs a change of scenery after Sal’s mother leaves them. The story is told in the first person narrative from Sal.

The story takes place as Sal is driven across America by her grandparents to see her mother. The only thing to do while trapped in car for hours is tell a good story, so Sal tells her grandparent’s of her friend Phoebe Winterbottom and Phoebe’s family crisis and of how, in retrospect, Phoebe’s story is not unlike Sal’s own. Sal expresses her views on her new life in Ohio and her feelings on her mother’s absence.  

This novel touched me so much that I wish to share with others a great book about loss, friendship, first love and growing up. Sharon Creech has a real way of giving Sal a unique and empathetic voice. The characterisation was beautifully executed (with all concerned) and heartening. I loved every minute of reading this book. The plot is well constructed and the shock at the end is like a physical blow. I didn’t expect it and cried for a long time when the book was over. It left me feeling exhausted but content.

~ nahara

I was answering someone’s question of what ‘grace’ was and why Lyra was given it (in terms of her ability to read the alethiometer in Northern Lights). I went off on quite a tangent. I do find it all fascinating, especially the religious elements of Pullman’s trilogy. A friend of mine bought me a booked for Christmas called The Devil’s Account: Philip Pullman & Christianity by Hugh Rayment-Pickard. It is pretty interesting. Just thought I’d share my thoughts with you lot. Any His Dark Materials fans?

By Patricia Duncker
 

I bought Hallucinating Foucault yesterday morning for my Literary Theory course. It is a slim novel of only 181 pages but has captivated me on every single one. I can’t remember being this in love with a book in a long while. I knew by the end of the first chapter that it would be, without question, a favourite and that it would always hold a special place for me.  It took me less than twelve hours for to finish, slotted between lectures and other University work.

Hallucinating Foucault is written in the first person by an unnamed narrator, a young man who is researching his PhD thesis on a French author by the name of Paul Michel. Paul Michel is brilliant but mad, shut away from society in a French mental hospital for the past decade. The narrator becomes obsessed with his subject matter and travels to France to help set Paul Michel free, both physically and mentally. It is a book about the relationship between author and reader. It is passionate, ominous, romantic, dark and so very intimate.

The character of Paul Michel is wonderful. Rather like the narrator, it is hard for the reader to make him out at times. He is mired in contradictions. I grew to love him just as the narrator did, yet he frustrated me and angered me. It is a mastery of characterization from Duncker. It isn’t easy to create such a well rounded and deep character while treating mental illness (schizophrenia in this instance) with such respect. I am in awe.

Patricia Dunckar’s writing is clear and concise without being abrasive or clipped. It flowed beautifully and swiftly, rather like a thriller would do. It griped me from the first page and would not let go, not even when I’d finished. Hallucinating Foucault was Duncker's first novel, and I will now look to read her other works. 

It is hard to describe how Hallucinating Foucault made me feel when I finished it. I felt completely empty, drained, as though I’d run an emotional marathon. Yet I was still filled with adrenalin and very tense. It is one of the books that when I finish I feel like weeping from tiredness. I slept badly that night, my mind running back and forth over the book while I waited for sleep.

I still feel a bit winded. A friend asked if I thought it was cathartic and I had to think about that for a while. I was emotionally empty but I didn’t exactly feel purged. What I do know is that I love this book deeply. It feels like an old old friend that I’ve found again after a long separation.

[Edit: I'd rate this novel an M for mature content. There are adult relationships and disturbing themes not meant for younger readers.]

~ nahara

Ignoring the fact that I should be reading Wuthering Heights…

I’ve been thoroughly enjoying Bill Bryson’s new book: a biography on the Bard of Avon, imaginatively titled Shakespeare. Only the god that is Bill Bryson can write about him and make it humorous and fun. I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with Mr. Willm Shakspere. I cannot deny that he penned some wonderful and epic works, my favourite plays being The Merchant of Venice and Macbeth (the Scottish Play to those of you with a superstitious nature). However, many hours of my life have been wasted on Antony and Cleopatra and Hamlet. I near about tore my own eyeballs out while reading Ant & Cleo. Don’t mention Enobarbus to me. Ever. I will not be responsible for my actions. 

Bryson’s Shakespeare is a slim volume in comparison with his other books. However, featured in his previous titles is a book called A Short History of Nearly Everything, so perhaps this is to be expected. For such a famed personage as the Bard there is very little known about him. Bryson states at one point that Shaksp is “ever a shadow even in his own biography”. Bryson handles this well, opting to fluff the book out with details about Elizabethan England. 

I had to do a course a couple of years back on Elizabethan Government and Politics, and all English schools are ridiculously fond of the Tudor reign, thus my knowledge is pretty sound.  Yet Bryson writes about trivial and everyday occurrences that set the period alive with colour. I find myself learning all sorts of weird and wonderful new things. 

Bryson’s sense of humour works wonders for my mood. See that rain outside? Yeah, no big deal, because I’m enjoying a hilarious book. One of my favourite comments, made towards the beginning of the book, is an observation referring to Shakespe’s father John. John originated in a town called Snitterfield, “but came to Stratford as a young man (sparing posterity having to think of his son as the Bard of Snitterfield)”. Has a ring to it, no? The Bard of Snitterfield…

As of yet, I haven’t finished Shakespeare but should make swift work of it (it isn’t quite 200 pages long). I definitely recommend the book to everyone, particularly if you are interested in English Literature. Mind you, I’d recommend anything by Bill Bryson. An American-cum-Brit, a man after my own heart. :D

- nahara

Post Script: No, I wasn’t being thick and dyslexic. I actually did intend on spelling the Bard’s name ‘wrong’. In fact, not one of the 6 known variations on his name, written in his hand, is spelled “Shakespeare”. (The examples I’ve used are variants of how he himself signed his name.)

Oddly, I feel the urge to watch Shakespeare in Love…