The Lefty's Lament

I'll bet you didn't know I was part of a repressed minority. I have had to struggle my entire life, living in a world designed for the other 90% of people, and facing constant reminders that I was different. It's true: I am left-handed.

Now, I was fortunate enough to grow up in a time (the 1970s) when teachers didn't try to force me to write with my right hand, and since I come from a long line of lefties, my mom made me practice writing so I didn't develop that typical cramped lefty "curl." Still, I realized early on that the world wasn't exactly accommodating for us southpaws:

• I'm in elementary school, cutting out construction paper with the rest of the class, and even if I can manage to find the single pair of "left-handed" scissors* in the class bucket, the edges have invariably been ruined by someone using them right-handed, and they don't work. By the time I'm a teenager, I cut things out right-handed. (And I still do.)
• I'm eleven or twelve, experiencing the brave new world of LED digital technology, and my grandma gives me a really groovy gift for Christmas: a nice shiny metal pen with a digital clock at the tip. Of course, using it in my left hand means the clock reads upside down, so it's only accurate when it's 10:01 or 9:06 or 5:12.
• I'm forty-*coughcough* and TSU gets us a new iron. It has a really nice retractable cord to keep it neat, but there's a little problem: the cord exits out the right-hand side. Which is fine, if you like to iron right-handed:

See? Very convenient: the cord stays away from the iron, and you can tuck it away when you're done so there's less chance it hangs out and someone trips on it or the cat bats at it and the iron goes flying and bashes their little kitty heads or it sets the carpet on fire. Great engineering!

Except.

I.

Don't.

Iron.

Right-handed.

So this is what happens:

The cord comes out the right side and doubles back on itself. Whenever I lift the iron, I have to reach my right hand over my left and pick up the cord so it doesn't get trapped under the hot metal plate. Since I most often iron large pieces of fabric, or long seams, that's a lot of lifting and resetting. Now sure, if I ironed from the other side of the board it wouldn't be a problem (except I'd be trapped between the board and the wall with no room to move), but that's not the point. The point is that once again, whoever designed this household item had no idea that placing the cord on one side could pose a problem to anyone. Everybody irons with the same hand, don't they? Just like everybody signs with the right hand so we'll attach the pen on the right side.... Grrr.

Don't worry too much about my oppressed self, though. Studies show that lefties have an advantage when it comes to physical combat, so expect to find my left foot in your face if you try to attack me.

*if you don't understand what a major difference there is between left- and right-handed scissors, this video explains it's not just in the shape of the grip.

Janespotting: Northanger Abbey, 2007 tv-film

After the psychedelic experience that was the 1987 adaptation of Northanger Abbey, I had high hopes for the 2007 version, especially when I saw it was written by Andrew Davies, the same person who penned the essential 1995 Pride & Prejudice (as well as the 1996 Kate Beckinsale Emma and the recent miniseries of Sense & Sensibility, as well as the sublime Bridget Jones's Diary). As this 2007 tv-film is only the second adaptation of NA, it didn't have a very high bar to clear to be the best ever, and I'm pleased to report it vaulted over that standard with no trouble at all.

My main problem with the previous version was in the tone—it was less a satire of the Gothic novel than a tribute to it—so I was extremely pleased when this version of NA began with Austen's own words in voiceover: "No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy would have supposed her born to be an heroine." The film follows the plot very closely, and although it condenses a bit, we get the same progression as the book: an early acquaintance with Henry Tilney that happens almost by chance at the Pump Room; the growing friendship with Isabella and the growing interference of her brother; the friendship with Eleanor Tilney and the invitation to Northanger Abbey. This version brings in Gothic elements in ways that are clearly satirical: the characters read from the books, or talk about them, and occasionally we get an imagined scene that is exaggerated. It all remains true to the essential heart of the novel: Catherine is a true innocent, uncognizant of the real plots and intrigues that swirl around her even as she imagines Gothic ones that nearly cost her her chance at happiness.

Although the script is a big reason for the faithfulness of this version, much credit must be given to the casting and acting. Felicity Jones is perfect as Catherine; with her big eyes showing every emotion that crosses her face, she is innocent, open, and appealing. JJ Feild strikes the right note as Henry Tilney: playful, intrigued by Catherine's purity of spirit, and serious when he must go against his father's wishes. Just as good is recent Golden Globe-nominee Carey Mulligan as Isabella Thorpe, for she makes her a complex character who is sweet and sympathetic when Catherine first meets her, and only gradually reveals her flaws. The rest of the cast, as well as the costumes and settings, bring the rest of the novel to life just as you might envision it.

Altogether, this is a superb example of how an adaptation should be done, and this would be a great introduction to Northanger Abbey (or Austen) if you don't have time to read the book.

Photo of the Week--2/1/10

No pigeons at the British seaside, only gulls, so we didn't do much running around Deal Castle during our visit to Kent, England. Deal Castle was built by Henry VIII and is most notable for its shape: six bastions surrounding a central keep, in the shape of a perfect Tudor rose. Of course, during our visit Boy found the pebble-filled beach more interesting. Here he and TSU search for the perfect stones for skipping, since the meanies at the castle wouldn't let us fire the cannons.

Wordless definitions: particular

Why is it some cats prefer to drink from a running faucet? The water doesn't taste any different, and it's harder to get. I think they just like the power of sitting somewhere, expecting you do something, and seeing you do it.

Janespotting: Northanger Abbey, 1987 TV-film

There haven't been many film adaptations for Northanger Abbey—the fewest of any of Austen's novels—probably owing to its relative lack of popularity as well as the difficulty of translating all the literary references to film. I felt fortunate that my library had the first such adaptation, a 90-minute BBC/A&E production broadcast in 1987. I approached it with a mixture of hope and trepidation. After all, less than a decade later a BBC/A&E collaboration would give us the sublime Pride & Prejudice mini-series. Still, 1987 might be a little early to expect an upgrade from the bland quality of some early productions. After having viewed this version of NA, however, I can safely say it wasn't bland. Instead, I think the writer and director might have erred a little too much in the other direction, for there were times I thought I might have enjoyed the film better if I had been on hallucinogens.

I understand that there is a challenge in conveying Catherine's interest in Gothic literature, one that is most easily met by showing scenes from these novels. In this adaptation these scenes are shown as Catherine's fantasies (starring Catherine and other characters), but often they bleed into scenes that are supposed to be taking place in the "real" world. For instance, there is one scene that in the novel takes place in Bath's Pump Room, but in the film is set in the Grand Bath. Men and women are in special swimming costumes (gowns for the ladies), still wear their elaborate hats, and have little plates worn around their necks that float in the water and hold edible treats. Evidently this co-ed bathing was a custom at the time (but without the hats), although as portrayed in the film it looks like something out of Fellini. A similarly bizarre scene occurs during Catherine's visit to the Abbey, when a visit from the General's friend the Marchioness (an invented character who looks ridiculously like a harlequin) leads to a fantasy involving the Marchioness's young African servant leading Catherine outdoors, where she is rescued by Henry on a horse. Extremely weird.

The strangeness wasn't helped any by several design elements, in particular the music, hair, and costumes. The latter involved lots of bright colors, tons of ribbons, huge feathers, and a style that was entirely too baroque for the era. The hair was very '80s, with lots of feathers and curls (even, God help us, on blond Henry Tilney). And the music ... completely bizarre and out of character. I get that they were trying to enhance the Gothic mood, but when you hear electric guitar and keyboard during landscape scenes, or a saxophone during a romantic scene, or Gregorian chants during the bathing scenes, it just takes you entirely out of the Austen mood.

I think that was my main problem with this adaptation: it doesn't have the Austen mood. I'm not sure they understood that Austen's NA is a satire of Gothic novels, not a tribute to them. This version too often tried to re-create the Gothic atmosphere—even to the point of exaggerating both James Thorpe's and General Tilney's characters so that they seem genuinely threatening—but the whole point of NA is that Catherine is seeking the Gothic in a place where it doesn't exist. And the one scene in the novel that most closely resembles the Gothic—when John Thorpe"kidnaps" Catherine for a coach ride when she has promised the Tilneys a walk—is for some reason omitted in favor of her first ride, when all he does is go a little too fast.

Still, I don't want to leave the impression this adaptation wasn't any fun at all. The performances were pretty good, especially Peter Firth (no relation to P&P's Colin Firth) as Henry Tilney. Some scenes were spot on (despite the music), especially the one where Catherine finally gets her countryside walk with the Tilneys, and I liked how they fleshed out the final romantic declaration that Austen is frequently too modest to detail. There were many good uses of dialogue directly from the book, and even one phrase that I believe is original but sounded so like Austen I had to look it up to see. As the film opens, and Catherine's brother calls her away from her book, she tells him, "literature and solitude are as necessary to a young woman's development as sunshine is to ripe fruit." Now that is a sentiment I can fully agree with.

Photo of the Week--1/25/10

No pigeons in this picture, but I had to post it as an example of how you never know what a kid will latch onto when you travel. Boy was six during this trip to Germany, and he was fascinated by these little canals that threaded their way through the city of Freiburg. We visited in June, and in October he was still talking nonstop about how he was planning his own system of canals to cross our backyard, the neighborhood, the school.... I'm not sure what their purpose was supposed to be, I guess it was enough for them to look cool.

Janespotting: Northanger Abbey (Austen's original)

The holidays interrupted me, but finally I get to resume my examination of Austen and her imitators by moving onto her novel Northanger Abbey, which was published posthumously in 1818. Why skip over Mansfield Park and Emma? First of all, NA was actually the first novel Austen actually completed and sold for publication, although the bookseller who initially purchased it decided not to publish after all, and Austen's brother Edward ended up buying back the rights. (What a comfort to us aspiring authors: even Jane Austen had problems getting published.) Second, NA is one of my favorite Austen novels, for it's her funniest. It's a parody of the gothic fiction of the time, and there's more about writing and books in it than in any of her other works. On several occasions she defends novels and the writing of them:

I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic custom so common with novel-writers, of degrading by their contemptuous censure the very performances, to the number of which they are themselves adding—joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas! If the heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine of another, from whom can she expect protection and regard? I cannot approve of it.

NA's heroine, Catherine Morland, is certainly not snobbish about novels; she devours Gothic romances like Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho with gusto. There's not much else for her to do at home in the country with her many brothers and sisters, but soon she's called to accompany her wealthy neighbors, the Allens, to Bath. Ah, Bath! Later, in Persuasion, Austen would portray this resort city as tiresome (as she herself found it), but in NA we see it full of all the fun and activity that would enchant a naive 17 year old: plays, shopping, and best of all, assemblies where one might make new acquaintances. Almost immediately Catherine makes the acquaintance of Henry Tilney, a young clergyman with a quirky wit who catches her fancy.

Not long afterward she befriends Isabella Thorpe, the daughter of one of Mrs. Allen's friends. Isabella is quick to claim her as a bosom friend, and introduces Catherine to her brother John, who is a bit crude and wild, but is also a friend of Catherine's brother James, so she tries to be polite. She would much rather spend time with Henry Tilney and his sister Eleanor, but Isabella and James conspire to usurp Catherine's time, even going so far as to lie in order to get her to accompany them on a drive instead of a prior engagement with the Tilneys. (This "kidnapping" scene is just one of many that parodies typical events in a gothic novel.) Still, Catherine remains close to Isabella, especially after she announces her engagement to James.

Things start to head south in Bath after Isabella discovers that James's marriage settlement will be less than she imagined ... and she imagined quite a lot, it's clear from both her attitude and James's pursuit of Catherine. Catherine, of course, remains clueless to this, just as she doesn't realize that the Tilneys have extended an invitation to their home at Northanger Abbey because General Tilney, Eleanor and Henry's father, believes her to be an heiress. Catherine is excited about the trip to the Abbey, believing it will be just as full of atmosphere as the castles and monasteries of her Gothic favorites. Henry even teases her about it on the trip there:

How fearfully will you examine the furniture of your apartment! And what will you discern? Not tables, toilettes, wardrobes, or drawers, but on one side perhaps the remains of a broken lute, on the other a ponderous chest which no efforts can open, and over the fireplace the portrait of some handsome warrior, whose features will so incomprehensibly strike you, that you will not be able to withdraw your eyes from it.

Of course, after Catherine arrives she lets her imagination run away with her. She looks into a wardrobe only to find a laundry list, and misinterprets General Tilney's reluctance for her to see the late Mrs. Tilney's rooms as something sinister. When Henry catches her peeking into his mother's rooms and intuits her thinking, she is deeply ashamed. She also wises up about the Thorpe family, after Isabella throws over James for the wealthier Captain Tilney, and then writes Catherine to intercede with James after she discovers Tilney was only playing with her. Still, Catherine is puzzled when General Tilney suddenly comes home one day and abruptly orders her out, not realizing that the General has just discovered she isn't an heiress.

She returns home, sad and puzzled, and after a few days everything is resolved quickly, in true Gothic fashion: Henry visits, appalled by his father's behavior, and proposes; Eleanor own, previously unmentioned, suitor comes into money and a title and softens General Tilney's objections; and the Thorpes fade into obscurity.

With a typical happy ending, and a whole bunch of comic subversions of the Gothic genre, why isn't NA more of a favorite with readers? My best guess is that it's because Catherine Morland is a rather unexciting heroine. Although she's honest and sweet, she's naive, not particularly witty, and ignorant. Even Austen recognized Catherine's limitations:

though Henry was now sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved her society, I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine's dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own.

Personally, I love reading Northanger Abbey; it makes me giggle, all those literary subversions. It even makes me curious about all those Gothic originals ... and I'll be reading those for future "Janespotting" installments, although first I'll be visiting some of the TV adaptations. Next up: the 1987 BBC/A&E movie.