Holiday Reading…

I’ve been reading YA and chick-lit fiction these holidays. Pure escapism. And watching old episodes of the OC. Or “the O and C” as my son would say. As a result I’m quite relaxed and the trauma of having to teach low level migrants who are in cultural shock etc… is behind me. Or so I thought, until I started dreaming about them. I must have locked them away somewhere in the subconscious because they leak out at around 3-4am in the morning. They’re not bad dreams. In all the dreams I am quite calm and feel okay about things, but I’ve been waking up in a bad mood because it’s like I’ve had to go back to that place two weeks before I actually have to set foot there.
I read Sophie Kinsella’s book about the lawyer who thinks she’s lost 50 million pounds for her firm and ends up being a housekeeper for a nouveau riche couple. It’s typical rom-com and it’s the same formula – does the single girl choose hot shot career or life. I really don’t like chick-lit because it always seems to be either-or. I enjoy chick-lit mainly because I like the glamorous big city world depicted and the comedy. Also when I’m feeling rather unsure of myself, I like the reassurance that there are people out there on the verge of nervous breakdowns and worry about the same inane things that I do. I also started reading Marian Keyes Sushi for Beginners. I’m not sure about the “exotic Asian” girlfriend character – Mai. I wish she didn’t include her because it’s taking away from my enjoyment of the book as just a bit of fun fluff. I know Keyes has included her in there as an anti-stereotype because the character (half Irish/Chinese or Vietnamese – she mentions she’s Chinese in one part and Vietnamese in the other – typing/editing error?) draws attention to the “ping pong” ball stereotypes and she plays on her exoticism to keep her boyfriend. Really she’s a down to earth, confident, sassy Irish gal who sells mobile phones – though she tells everyone she’s an exotic dancer. I know what the author is trying to do, but I’m not sure it quite works. Also sometimes the narrator speaks from Mai’s p.o.v which doesn’t quite work for me either because at all other times the narrator only tells the story from the perspective of the three main characters. Maybe it is impossible to mention a character’s ethnicity without drawing attention to it and all the other stereotypes. Maybe in order to just “be” and not engage in conversations about identity/race, these characters have to be white.
I know there’s a growing genre called “ethnic chick-lit” and this is taken more seriously because the characters talk about issues of race/identity. I’ve had a glimpse through one of these books and I don’t find it any more serious and in fact find the talk about race/identity a bit 101. Having said this, I wrote a story recently that treated my readers like retards where I spelt out everything explicitly. “It’s like you don’t trust your readers,” was one comment and the fact is I don’t.
Damnit – my baby is up and needs the loo.

 

Back on-line

I’ve been off line for about 3 months and probably lost my two readers.
In the time I’ve been away, I’ve completed the second to last final draft of 2/3 of my degree. I am motivated by wanting to expand the family and my fear of not having enough brain cells to write if I do fall pregnant before getting down the bulk of it.
I’ve also put together an 8 story/50K word collection of short stories, because I wanted to have a “manuscript” before I turned however old it is that I’m turning this week. It was enjoyable putting it together and setting myself this goal.
Had an interesting chat with my supervisor who suggested that I try submitting some stuff. I’m not sure I want to do that just yet – I mean I know that one has to get rejected quite a few times, it’s a rite of passage thing…and I know it’s what everyone has to go through.
I ended up writing short stories related to my cultural background. For a long time I just found it difficult to do this, even though it’s all I seem to write about, and at the beginning of my degree I just wanted to get the fuck away from this topic. Then Michael Jackson died and I realised that we’re not quite post-racial. I was looking at a poster of his changing face when it occurred to me what he did to his face, isn’t that far from the self-loathing, confusion etc..a lot of marginalised people feel at some point.
Went to the zoo today. Saw the crazy, depressed orangutan. There was a volunteer (brainwashed) who tried to convince me she had her back towards us and was clinging onto some metal cage, because she was waiting for the keepers to give her a bag of popcorn and raisins. Afterwards, she confessed that this poor orangutan wasn’t part of the breeding program because she was considered too mentally unstable. She was born in 1979. Must be awful to spend one’s life in captivity. The elephant was also swaying about like a crazy person. The zoo can be fun, but a very sad place to visit. Makes you realise how fucked up humans are. Marmosets were cute though.
Had an interesting chat to my supervisor about publishing. She was telling me in the old days, publishers were willing to take an unpolished writer and nurture them. But with the economic downturn, and probably the rise in MA courses, they take on polished works. That and most publishers get agents to sift through the crap. She’s trying to encourage me to submit something, but I’m thinking “what if they send me a rejection slip during that weird part of the moon cycle when I’m all edgy, tetchy and insecure?”
Am feeling kind of blah at the moment. I think during the writing of this manuscript, I was pumped – now that it’s over, I’m thinking – oh fuck, now comes the most difficult part if I want to take that road. One must truly be masochistic, evangelical or insecure to be a writer. I read a quote from a poet once that said in order to write, you have to be evangelical – or else how can you go on and on and on about something for so many words? I had this in mind and it’s what sustained me during the writing of the creative part of my thesis. But now that I’m not in that headspace, I’m feeling kind of really neurotic. I think this is the problem when you have to move between too many different worlds. I’m not talking about ethnicity – but more different contexts – study, work, home, friends…

Whatever the case, I feel good about having a “manuscript”. I can sort of see why some people end up never submitting and die with a draw full of manuscripts. The process is quite enjoyable.

 

Doubt – The Movie

 

Father Flynn: Where is your compassion?

Sister Aloysious: No where you can get to it.

The film is set up in such a way that Sister Aloysious (Meryl Streep) initially comes across as a stodgy, stick in the mud, anti-Vatican 2 reforms nun and Father Flynn (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) the friendly teacher priest who is cool enough to teach basketball in gym class wearing gym clothes. He is the progressive, Vatican 2, secular music loving priest.

Early on in the film, Sister Aloysious becomes less two dimensional as we see her caring and covering for a nun who is at risk of losing her job because of her failing eyesight. While we never see Father Flynn in a negative light, there are scenes where he is a little too smug and a little too popular with the kids.

Doubt comes to play when the naive young teacher Sister James (Amy Adams) witnesses a few things that make her suspect that perhaps Father Flynn is having an inappropriate relationship with Donald Miller, the only black kid in school.

Throughout the film you are made to like Father Flynn because he is so friendly and progressive, and you want to believe that he is a father figure to Donald as he tries to protect him from racists and homophobes. You also question the intolerance of the anti-Vatican 2 church staff and wonder whether or not Father Flynn is being targeted because of his homosexuality by the conservative nun.

[Also if you went to a uni where man-boy love progressives lectured in your Honours seminar, you do question whether or not you are a bit of a bigot for even worrying about a sexual relationship between Donald and Father Flynn - though now I'm going off topic.]

*spoiler*

It soon becomes apparent that Father Flynn is a priest who believes there is nothing wrong with man boy love. I have read reviews by some people who believe that Father Flynn was merely a kindly figure forced to resign because the nun would not stop until his reputation was destroyed – hence the title Doubt. However, I believe that the film is called Doubt because the entire film is about how when we know what is right and what is wrong, we often question ourselves because life is a myriad of grey areas even in a case that appears so black and white.

In the film Sister Aloysious never doubts her gut instinct until the end. I read her final lines, “I have such doubts,” as a normal reaction to such a stressful ordeal and her doubts as to whether or not she should be a nun in the Catholic church.

While she knew that child protection was the ultimate objective, upon reflection she would have had doubts as to whether she is did the right thing by her church – to which she has pledged obedience, the school – who will be losing a good teacher or the child, whose own mother believed that he was benefitting from Father Flynn’s special attention because no one else had taken an interest in him. If everyone was OK with it, including the boy’s mother, who was she to stand up and point out that something was wrong.

As a viewer you also at times doubt Sister Aloysious because the perpetrator is not a bogey man, a two headed rapist monster who never sees the light of day. He’s a likeable, cool dude. Father Flynn is an effective teacher who engages children.

I was convinced that he was guilty when he started to use the Catholic teachings of compassion to guilt Sister Aloysious into accepting the situation. I was also convinced he was guilty when he started threatening her and wielded the full force of the Catholic church to justify his actions. There was also a lot that was not said, little gestures, movements that led me to believe that the viewer is supposed to think he is guilty.

Also I figured if he was innocent, the Catholic church would have given out free movie passes the way they did with The Passion.

I’m waiting for a couple of friends to watch this movie to see whether their reading of the film is similar to mine.

I hope Meryl Streep wins an Oscar for her acting in this film.