The Wife

                                                     

I have been catching up with films in the last few days and it has been a serious catchup as I have seen five films in less than a week and there is one more ahead of me. This is Sydney Festival event and my local cinema is one of the movie theaters that takes part. The films that are shown have not yet been shown to general public and some of them are not intended to be screened more than at this particular occasion. Looks that I have chosen rather popular films that will be possible to see in cinemas later. Maybe except the two Polish films – Mug that got Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize in Berlin 2018 and Cold War that was awarded the best film director in Cannes 2018 for Paul Pawlikowski. I will write about the films at some stage.

Yesterday I saw The Wife with Glen Close as the main attraction of the film. I am little less enthusiastic than the critics and the reviews of The Guardian and Rotten Tomatoes. Maybe because I do not particularly like Glen Close. She seems superficial and affectatious to me. I must admit that how she appears in her interviews should not reflect on her art as an actress. But it seems to influence my judgement.

What is perhaps more to the point is how did I like her performance in this particular film. And yes, it was a remarkable performance, subtle, moving and I give it the highest marks and my admiration. I still left the theatre somewhat disappointed. Maybe even confused? The film seems to portray The Wife as a sort of a victim and her husband, brilliantly played by Jonathan Pryce as the person who wronged her. I do not see the story this way at all, even with my feministic leaning. I buy the meaning of the outburst of the husband when he tells how it was for him. Here comes the spoiler : The story is about two people who want to be writers, he is a professor who teaches how to write and she is a talented writer who is learning. However she does not have a chance to be noticed in the male dominated field and her writing, however brilliant it might be, does not stand a chance to be published. This is what she is told by a more experienced woman and she believes it. She gives up on writing but supports her lover, the professor, in his writing efforts. Eventually, editing  his book she re-writes it with a minor contribution of the original author. The book is a hit and as it is published under his name, the glory is his.  However, being very much in love, they are both happy with the situation. This is the beginning of their future life together and it is based on the wife being the ghost writer for her husband. She writes the books under his name and he plays the role of the famous, very talented writer. It goes on for years, until the time when the man gets the Nobel Prize for the work of his wife who is smiling shyly, happy but always in his shadow. At this point of time she can not continue with the mystification, but her plans are not verbalized so we never really find our what she would consider to be a satisfactory solution from her point of view.

 

To me, they came to an agreement that was serving both of them and in my opinion, she got a better part of the deal. Her part was not to be famous, but she got her work published and she knew the impact her writing had on the readers. He played a humiliating role of a pretender compensating his paper tiger situation by romances that gave him some feeling of self-worth and power. She tolerated it up to a point but at the end it was all too much for her to accept and live with. I am on his side, not her. This is the reason for my confusion. Have I missed some psychological truth and got the whole story wrong? I do not think so. Maybe I misunderstood the critics? This is possible.

One can take the whole story as a meta model of lives of capable women who are in a relationship and in love with less talented men. In olden days, women did not have rights to vote and in fact rights to live the life they would choose for themselves. In those times being the brain behind a man and directing his actions was not challenged or even noticed. As I am reading the new version of Macbeth, Lady Macbeth comes to mind as one of negative influences a woman can have on a man. Those times are gone and women have rights to work and to their own successes. There is a price for that though. While many men tolerate such situations to a point, often happens that he needs to re-establish his superior position. This typically can be done only with another partner. The relationship breaks up. Perhaps it was doomed form the start, but we often live with and in illusions for years.

The question is why men need to feel superior to women? Conditioning? Whatever the reason is, this is the situation in many cases.

Back to the film - my rating 8 out of 10.

The story is a bit far fetched for me even if played very convincingly.

Eucalyptus by Murray Bail

                                                        

I just finished my book club book to be discussed in June. It is Eucalyptus by Murray Bail. Looks that my independent nature protests against reading books chosen by somebody else and I feel that I am wasting my time reading things that do not really interest me. During the time I was reluctantly reading Eucalyptus I was thinking that I really want to read Macbeth by Jo Nesbo. Yesterday, I finished my “homework” book. So, I am happy that I can now continue my Shakespearean education. I am curious if the second one will absorb me than much as Shylock. I refreshed the Macbeth story and I wonder what will be done with it by the crime stories writer. It started quite well, but not at all Shakespearean.

Back to the Murray Bail and Eucalyptus. Do I like it? Not really, not my type of a story, but I must say that poetic way of the author got me eventually and I was transported into a mood that I could describe as feeling mesmerized. Or maybe it was just stupor caused by reading one silly story followed by the next meaningless story and calling it a Scheherazade style writing. Big, big stretch in my opinion. Another, rather tedious feature of the book is the writing about eucalyptus and its many, many species. They are called by their Latin and common names and often described in some details. I liked some of it but as it was repeated too many times through the book. I started to skip the botanical details just to land up reading another inconsequential story which was supposed to be a love story. At the same time the book made me think about and feel the Australian landscapes, so different to the European ones. Once again, I have realized that I am half Australian and half European (I intend to write about Polish-European issue in one of my next posts) and that I love these severe Australian landscapes that almost always feature Eucalyptus species.

                                  

So, have I liked the book? I am confused here. The story is too farfetched, but the book is not about the story that much but the atmosphere, impressions, moods and feelings. It is a poetic book and I responded to the poetry of Australia and confusion of a budding feeling of love.

So, 7 out of 10.

Shylock Is My Name

                                                       

My new Shakespearean fascination without having read anything of Shakespeare himself is a bit dubious but is works for me. Talking to my Polish learned friend who knows most of the originals I expressed my opinions in such a confident way that he called me the Shakespearean expert of the southern hemisphere. I think he was sarcastic not only about my knowledge of the subject but also that of my Australian compatriots. While the first would be a deserved sarcasm, the second is completely uncalled for. The discussion between us was about was Shakespeare an anti-Semite as The Merchant of Venice shows. I am told that it is horrifically ani-Semitic. In fact, going through YouTube I found a part of the film with Al Pacino and Jeremy Irons where Jeremy Irons spits at the Jew just because he is a Jew. Then I read about the original play and the anti-Semitic approach is quite obvious and powerful. At the time when the play was written there were no Jews in England but there was already the anti-Semitic atmosphere. There were strong opinions what is bad about the Jewish people, there were strong offensive descriptions, invectives really. One of them I find rather friendly, though this is because I am a dog lover and to call someone a dog to me is rather a compliment.

The dispute between me and my friend was about if Shakespeare was an anti-Semite or not? Listening to a talk with Howard Jacobson I agree with his view that the man who wrote his other plays with such a deep understanding of the human nature and difference between good and evil could not be against one nation just because this one is different in some ways to the rest of western communities. My idea is that maybe the play was written to warn the contemporary England of bad thoughts raising their head. I wonder who is right here and I do intend to watch the film in full when I find it somewhere. It is a film from 2004.

                                                  

What else about the book? As I mentioned in my earlier post the vocabulary was a big stretch for me. I was forever checking the meaning and pronunciation. A little disturbing and, in fact, little educational as fascinated by the book, I was quickly returning to the novel without paying much attention to the learning process.

I liked the humour a lot. Finding out the new word describing me as a Philo-Semite this is not so strange that I like this self-mocking sometimes subtle, sometimes explicitly crude humour. In fact, I sometimes cringe at the sex related Jewish jokes, but not always, I must admit. They are just funny to me even if I consider myself a lady in my manners.

The book is like a commentary to The Merchant of Venice. It does not follow the main intrigue, maybe to some extent but loosely. There is Shylock and another Jew Strulovitch. One Shakespearean object is divided into two men, who in my mind are really one who leads a constant dialog with and within himself on what it means to be Jewish. My sympathy and admiration of this alienated nation increased significantly under influence of the book. I realise that this is not going to be a popular book as the anti-Jewish atmosphere increased through the world significantly. But maybe just for this reason should be widely read in the current times I consider threatening for our human decency.

Another attraction of the book to me is that it askes timeless existential questions and often gives answers. Is the author feeling superior to his readers? Not in my opinion, there are so many twists in the way he writes, hmm…

One example:

I ask you to show mercy to – you ask why you should require what you have not received- and I say to you: Be an exemplary o mercy;

                                                      

And a little later on :

Love those that do not love you – for where is the virtue merely in returning love?

Another big hmm… for me.

I do not have all that many readers of my blog and now I may be putting off some more, but this is my way to clear my thoughts and write what is important and true to me. So, sorry to those who do not agree with me. Maybe some discussion could start? She writes in hope…

To me a great book, 10 out of 10. I wonder if Jacobson is a Jew or a Goy? Not so clear in various write-ups and if he is making a point of just being a human without a label, I am with him.

P.S. My fascination with the Shakespearean project has been increasing each day. It was some weeks ago that I bought a new Polish translation of the Shakespeare plays intending to keep the books in Poland till, hopefully, my next visit. However, I think that I will ask for the comedies to be sent to me now as Shylock became an obsession. 

                                                            
Very nice edition but 1392 pages!! Tragedies and Chronicles form the second volume. This is a life work to read it all, not to mention a little of reflection. I think I'll stick to my original idea of reading only the current versions of the plays. 

Shakespearean Project

I decided that my knowing Shakespeare is deficient and that it is time to correct it. It is a very tall order, but thankfully there is a solution I believe I might be up to. The Hogarth Shakespeare Project commissioned modern versions of many of the Shakespearean plays and I thought that I will read the new versions. My long-standing reverence for Virginia Woolf made my intentions to read books published by Hogarth Press symbolic and attractive. By the way, The Hogarth Press was established by Virginia and Leonard Woolf.

The first step was to get the right books, published by the right people. This has not worked 100% as some of the books were not available and had to be replaced by soft cover substitutes of Penguin. I am happy in spite of the small imperfections of my original plan and as my books arrived the other day I proudly spread them on the table to get into the mood and anticipation of future reading pleasures.

I started with the re-telling of The Merchant of Venice – Shylock Is My Name by Howard Jacobson. And what an unexpected pleasure and challenge! Anticipating light reading as the original is a comedy I found the book a heavy duty intellectual writing with Antisemitism as the major theme. I, boastfully believed that my English is rather good and here I find myself going for help to Google or my long not used dictionary to look up words. Not that I normally do not need or want to do it, but this time the frequency of the lookup is rather significant. There is hardly a page that I do not need to look up at least one word. Hm… A humbling experience. Good for me as well. However, this is not going to be a widely read book. Too intellectual, convoluted and deep. I am glad that I found out about the re-telling initiative and I have to thank my Polish literary guru for that. Raf, the mentioned friend, has already six books that have been translated into Polish. We will compare the notes soon.

I have not read enough to write about my impressions of the book already, but this will soon come. For now, I think that I would like to read another book of the author. When will I find the time?

All the Light We Cannot See

My reading lately experienced some holts. I was changing the books searching for the one to fit my mood and interests. I have been reading Iris Origo’s autobiographical Images and Shadows. Interesting book but rather difficult to immerse in and forget the passing time. Actually I, as a budding Stoic, do not subscribe to killing time and this is not what it is all about. I am going through the time when I have to subject to things I would not choose for myself if I had a choice. Nevertheless, I decided to go through a rather difficult period and now I want to make the best out of it. Part of it is reading good books that I find either uplifting, amusing or enriching. And I have to consider that my attention span is not perfect right now. There are books on my side table though that I intend to read soon. And today I finished All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. The book ticked off several boxes. It is easy to read, the story is really good even if in the category of a fairy tale. It got even a Pulitzer Prize and I would be very interested in arguments for the book achieving such an award. The Wikipedia states also that it is a historical book. I wonder? Nowadays books called “historical” fulfil criteria that I am not familiar with. If JB reads the post and has views on the subject could I, please, ask for an opinion with some focus on historical fiction books. I must admit that I was a bit surprised seeing some correctly spelt Polish names of places the 2^nd World War passed through. Surprised and impressed, but seeing the same names listed again further in the book I devalued the importance of the mention. It was just a mention.

I find of great value the descriptions and stories about the upbringing of German youth before and in the early stages of the war. Maybe even historical value? Observing today's nationalistic atmosphere in the world, I can see similarities and dangers of the populistic governments through the world. Polish one including. This is of course the closest to my heart and I worry about some events. So, the book could have a value as a warning. This is a big tick for the book.

Good story, a really good story, that keeps attention once you get into it. It took me long, about 100 pages to decide that I like to read it. It consumed my attention and interest and I read with great interest until the last 40-50 pages that disappointed me. I believe that many of the readers could dispute that with me, but personally, I wanted more, whatever it might be. Another book? But I would not read a sequel anyhow. While the story is very interesting I do not find it at all believable. Does it have to be? Maybe not. I would have liked it though.

I seem to be rather critical of the book and I am looking for positives as I got the book as a present from a person I value a lot. The book was supposed to lift my spirits and even if it did not fulfil this objective I am glad I have read it. I would have liked a bit more humour in the book but it was rather difficult, perhaps, as the book is about a blind girl, set in the war and describing its cruelty rather convincingly.

                                                          

The motive I liked best in the book was the motive of courage. A blind girl is a courageous person. She is even active in the French resistance movement in spite of her profound limitations. She says that she just leads her days as she has to. Whatever the need to do she just does and being scared does not stop her. This is a very universal message and an example to follow. I am trying to do just that.

Thank you, my friend, Rachel, for the book. 7 out of 10, and I am a fussy reader.