Academy of Armitage Studies -- the Research continues

[Theresahollyinyourmind]

Welcome to our newest faculty building. Make yourselves comfortable and ignore the smell of paint. We cannot keep up with the demand for new premises.

You can also download Venetia from iTunes and from Audible I think - not sure of the prices.

Regarding fanfic, it's really not my thing either but I do like reading it sometimes nonetheless. One of the things I like us the way it is released in instalments, and also the ability to comment and read others comments. And there is such a rich vein of RA related fanfic to tap - Guy and North and South in particular seem to have inspired multiple writers. And you do find some really talented writers. I like it if they can keep the characters consistent with the source but this also depends on how good the writer is. eg I've read some pretty outlandish North and South fics - modern, futuristic, with vampires/ghosts, even time-travelling! But if the writing's good, it works.

On the other hand, .

It's raining men in Limpopoland, too, ladies.
Alleluia.
That could be another number for the party, but maybe just the street scene bit..

Looking for the slide down the firestation pole...

Yes, I think that's another aspect I find offputting, Oyster. I really don't want to read about Mr Thornton's encounter with a vampire or alien abduction (any fanfic author stuck for an idea can have that one for free). When dusting in the basement last night I found a vid about Mr Thornton's feelings when Margaret almost dies in childbirth. That just doesn't float my boat. I got all the Mr Thornton I needed from Mrs Gaskell. But chacun a son gout, as they say.

Oh, the fire station pole is there, Theresa. But maybe not accessible on the banks of the Limpopo.

I might be willing - strictly For Art - to kiss Colin Firth if the plot required it.

Well, so far no pole,

How noble of you, Missy, to volunteer to kiss Colin Firth. yet another time you would take one for the team. I expect you'd volunteer to clean out the pond-weed at Pemberley, too. And get all the mud and green slime stains out of the master's shirts? But maybe not, as it isn't Mr T.

I guess fanfic is the same as all fiction really. some you like, some you loathe, and some people just don't do it at all. From a writer's point of view it helps you learn as it gives you ready-made characters tp play about with, so you don't have to invent your own.

Yes, I have true nobility of spirit. Although I would draw the line at pond-clearance. (Perhaps we might employ Mr Higgins to do that and Dixon could sort out the laundry?)

You're spot on about fan fic, Holly. I think it's a Marmite thing.

, or you'd have found it by now.

Exactement, Missy! Zut alors, indeed!
Why have YT got so precious all of a suddy?
I did, though, find the big pants that aren't really all that big, unlike the ones in the book. I guess they really wanted to make your day if you are over size 8. Lookie here, these knickers you thought were perfectly average, are in fact ELEPHANTINE .

You don't see many films about men's little foibles, do you?

Perhaps because the poor darlings can dish it out but they can't take it...

Mind you, Adrian Mole comes to mind.

Indeed you don't. Films about men's foibles are generally on the level of famine, war, conquest and death.

I daresay this isn't accessible in Limpopoland either, but is has some . And even Dutch subtitles.

Oh frabjous joy, they are letting me see this! Maybe you caught them napping.
The Dutch subtitles are really something. However do they manage in Holland with such a complicated language?

One thing always stikes me when I watch rom coms. How different the life view is in ''women's films'' from the stuff men watch. It really is as if we are on two different planets, or speakng two different languages. How did it happen?

Callooh callay!

What I like about the Dutch subtitles is that one can almost read them - dat doet pijn (which I guess is literally that gives pain) is that hurts, it seems.

Yes, films often do seem to embody (reinforce?) that Men are from Mars and Women Are From Venus thing. (Can I be poncey and call it a dichotomy?) As to how it happened, I suspect it's to do with pandering/marketing to what are perceived to be distinct niche markets. As I discovered to my cost when I accompanied The Poet to see Saving Private Ryan, which I watched through my fingers.

Well, busy week ahead and I must hie me to bed.

Sweet dreams.

I always loved it on the ferry to Holland that it was called a ''boot''

Dichotomy, poncey? All the best people say it, my deah.

Me too, re the busy-ness. I really resent it, but it must be done.I shall call it a day too. I am off to listen to more Venetia Lucky me.

I once fooled someone that I could speak Dutch by saying Anderlecht in a suitable tone of voice. What larks.

You realise I'm going to have to go to the library tomorrow, searching for Venetia now? But think of me (or pray if that's your choice). I. am. going. to. Ikea.

A bientot as they say in Anderlecht.

I said a while ago I would suggest some Twitterers to follow.

However you could do worse than to follow the people on the @sinjoor/armitage list. Also there is @feignedmischief/adorables and I would also look at @smaryg/ra-fan-world

BTW you have to individually follow the people on the list in order for the tweets to appear in your timeline.

Sorry I missed the Lear chat last night; I love a bit of Lear! (and, it would seem, a bit of a leer :)) I saw a production in Stratford on Avon when I was pregnant with DD and I first felt her kicking hard there, at the "blow winds and crack your cheeks" scene. I'm not surprised, poor little thinm, it was bloomin' noisy.

Missy, Ikea?!?!?! We shall ready the smelling salts and the Polish Cordial for you, when - indeed, if - you should return, mon brave.

Hmm. Well, it is foggy here and I am too cowardly sensible to attempt to get to Ikea. And if I don't get to Ikea today I won't go, as it will be too hellish any closer to Christmas. So I may have to resort to cleaning the house. To prepare for that, I am listening to .

So, Twiggy, what do you think about Lear? (And it is all too true, by the way, about the amount of leering that goes on here). Should I stay [at home] or should I go? Am also thinking of going to S on A to take Offspring to see Matilda.

Well Lear is quite a horrific character but it's all just so damned dramatic, don't you think? "Blow winds and crack your cheeks", that I mentioned earlier is my favourite ever Shakespeare writing. Apart from the sonnet that we had read at our wedding, awww. Tee hee, I am slightly embarrassed at how I first became acquainted with King Lear - it was from Return To The Forbidden Planet :o

It's the amount of drama (for which read gore) which worries me. I was all set to book for Lear when we had Macbeth's severed head last night and Holly's timely reminder about "out, vile jelly".

We had William Blake at our wedding. Which sonnet did you have?

What Blake did you have? We had Sonnet 116 - I guess it's a bit obvious/overdone for weddings, but I like it so ner.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth?s unknown, although his height be taken
Love?s not Time?s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle?s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

It was very funny though - DH's aunt read it for us and she said beforehand that when it got to the "O no!" bit, she kept imagining it in a Frankie Howerd voice, so we always think of it like that now :)

We also had this, which my cousin read:

O Tell Me The Truth About Love
by W. H Auden

Some say that love's a little boy,
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round,
And some say that's absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn't do.

Does it look like a pair of pajamas,
Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does it's odour remind one of llamas,
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.

Our history books refer to it
In cryptic little notes,
It's quite a common topic on
The Transatlantic boats;
I've found the subject mentioned in
Accounts of suicides,
And even seen it scribbled on
The backs of railway-guides.

Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian,
Or boom like a military band?
Could one give a first-rate imitation
On a saw or a Steinway Grand?
Is its singing at parties a riot?
Does it only like Classical stuff?
Will it stop when one wants to be quiet?
O tell me the truth about love.

I looked inside the summer-house;
it wasn't ever there:
I tried the Thames at Maidenhead,
And Brighton's bracing air.
I don't know what the blackbird sang,
Or what the tulip said;
But it wasn't in the chicken-run,
Or underneath the bed.

Can it pull extraordinary faces?
Is it usually sick on a swing?
Does it spend all it's time at the races,
Or fiddling with pieces of string?
Has it views of it's own about money?
Does it think Patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.

When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,
Or tread in the bus on my shoes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.

Aah, Auden. I have always loved this.

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreadful cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but not from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless.
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.

And I love Auden's quip too about his face looking like a cake that's been left out in the rain, which reminds me of Macarthur Park, which is one of my favourite songs.

We had Jerusalem which of course isn't a conventional wedding hymn at all but, hey.

Morning poetic ladies. Slight panic here, I think my computer's dying. The back-up's a pain too.

I have to organise RL things into the bargain. Fingers crossed I can get back to you in an hour or so.

This is one of my favourites...

STRAWBERRIES

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air
in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

We had a church wedding and were only allowed biblical readings unfortunately.

Oh well, maybe next time...!

Morning ladies - think I've found a bit of a winner here and with some jiggery pokery, I reckon someone could do a similar video using Guy with the same theme song

Yes - that's right girls - the Prince Valiant theme tune (full version). For those of you who remember the power ballad of the 80s, here it is..... obviously Robin should have been replaced with RA