Author: elizavictoria

teeth

18teeth

I once read a beautiful short story by Lynda Sexson where a female character, who can produce pearls through her skin, touches herself between her legs and feels pearls growing there. Like teeth, she thinks. When I first saw the trailer for Teeth, this was the image I was reminded of.

High hopes, high hopes. The Sexson story works because its tone is consistent; Teeth, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to know what it wants to do and so degenerates into a seedy, at times tastelessly funny, B-movie. Coming-of-age plot, young virgin scared of and then finding power, and even joy, in her sexuality – but then it suddenly becomes American Pie. What the hell. It could have been a serious commentary on rape (Wouldn’t it be nice for women to only accept into their body the person they want, and to have the weapon to bite off those who force themselves on them), a satire, a cautionary tale of sorts. There is a scene about mutations – can it be that after decades of suffering from sexual violence, a female is born with a body part (the example used is the rattle on the rattlesnake) she can use to her advantage?

This could have been a better film. More grit, more darkness, remove the comedy and that stupid sequence where she Googles vagina dentata, and maybe throw in, um, I don’t know, a plot? For urgency? And it could have worked.

(Photo from the NYTimes.com)

nightmares and dreamscapes, 2

Part 1.

The Road Virus Heads North

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I’ve had enough of horror stories with evil objects, so I didn’t expect to like this adaptation that much. Anywho, the plot is simple enough to enjoy.

However, from what I recall of the short story, isn’t it supposed to be scary instead of, um,  pensive?

Evil guy says, “I’m not your damn disease. You egomaniac.” That made me laugh.

(Photo from genreonline.net)

Fifth Quarter

Almost mistook it for “Luckey Quarter” from Everything’s Eventual. (Speaking of which, aren’t they going to adapt “Everything’s Eventual”? That’s a good sci-fi story. Or “All That You Love Will Be Carried Away”.)

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I don’t know when the story was written, but to me, it felt pastiche.

Stephen King loves his male relationship stories doesn’t he. :) I love them also.

(Photo from Liljas Library. Photos from the previous entry also came from Liljas.)

nightmares and dreamscapes, 1

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So I finally began watching it. I’ve been avoiding the series because, well, I read Stephen King story collections in bed on gray, lazy afternoons – his pieces are perfect for that kind of weather; translated onscreen, though, I’m not so sure they’ll work for me.

I’ve finished viewing:

Battleground

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Not a silent episode (character still says Ouch) but there is no VO, no spoken dialogue. Interesting.

I’ve read the short story before. Toy Story gone bonkers. It’s okay. William Hurt’s in it.

Crouch End

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Well-acted but blah. I’m into ghost town stories, but not of the Lovecraft kind. Wouldn’t it have been better if they just didn’t show the monsters? Maybe the story’s better on print (I haven’t read this one).

I skipped Umney’s Last Case by mistake, so:

The End of the Whole Mess

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I adore this one. I hate using the word, but yes it’s touching, and also horrifying and very heartbreaking (how’s that for a string of useful adjectives?).

(Random trivia: the guy in the picture without the glasses – Ron Livingston – will play Gomez in the film adaptation of The Time-Traveler’s Wife.)

I’ll watch the rest when I have time.

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This is absolutely pathetic.


My Lakbayan grade is D.

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Just look at Mindanao on my map – it’s blank.

That should change.

The contents of my ATM must change first, though.

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Got this from Paul, who’s whining because he had a C. Hmp. Go visit Lakbayan to get your own map. Site creator Eugene Alvin Villar blogs here.

requiem

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I saw it just last night – finally the DVD I borrowed from Jake decided to work. Years ago a friend of mine asked if I’ve seen Aronofsky’s Requiem for a Dream. I said I haven’t, and he said, I want to tell you something about the ending. No, it’s not a spoiler. It’s just a very beautiful, powerful image.

In the end, all the main characters assume the fetal position.

the end

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Just finished it this morning. Bought a copy along with this book, after what felt like months of hunting down this novel in several bookstores. (I remember standing in a Fully Booked branch somewhere, sometime before Christmas, spelling out the author’s last name. No luck then.) Finally found it in Bibliarch near where I work.

I loved it. How else to review the damn novel? Mostlyfiction.com posted an excerpt, and so did NPR.

Consider the first two paragraphs:

You Don’t Know
What’s in My Heart

WE WERE FRACTIOUS AND overpaid. Our mornings lacked promise. At least those of us who smoked had something to look forward to at ten-fifteen. Most of us liked most everyone, a few of us hated specific individuals, one or two people loved everyone and everything. Those who loved everyone were unanimously reviled. We loved free bagels in the morning. They happened all too infrequently. Our benefits were astonishing in comprehensiveness and quality of care. Sometimes we questioned whether they were worth it. We thought moving to India might be better, or going back to nursing school. Doing something with the handicapped or working with our hands. No one ever acted on these impulses, despite their daily, sometimes hourly contractions. Instead we met in conference rooms to discuss the issues of the day.

Ordinarily jobs came in and we completed them in a timely and professional manner. Sometimes fuckups did occur. Printing errors, transposed numbers.Our business was advertising and details were important. If the third number after the second hyphen in a client’s toll-free number was a six instead of an eight, and if it went to print like that, and showed up in Time magazine, no one reading the ad could call now and order today. No matter they could go to the website, we still had to eat the price of the ad. Is this boring you yet? It bored us every day.Our boredom was ongoing, a collective boredom, and it would never die because we would never die.

Will you look at that.

I have no choice but to forever wonder how I would have reacted to this story if I had read it when I was still in college, when all I knew of office life I got from episodes of The Office.

Joshua Ferris writes so beautifully, and so damn accurately that he breaks my heart.

Read this book.

heart-shaped box

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I’m suspicious of any book/film with a song title for a title, so this Joe Hill novel I’ve been seeing on the shelves for a long time but I don’t pick it up or buy it because the title’s – *cringe*. And I love that Nirvana song.

Not to mention that the tag line used an ellipsis instead of a period. What is with horror/suspense novels and their damn ellipses?

Anyway, I haven’t read a good horror novel in a while (I’ve bought Joe Hill’s dad’s It, and a Clive Barker novel, but I’ll get to them later, they’re enormous), and I’m so glad I’ve read this one. Neil Gaiman, according to one of the blurbs, loved it “unreservedly”. Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but Hill’s narrative has this restraint and touches of humor (not hysterical like his father’s; sometimes Stephen King practically screams the joke at you) that I fell for. It’s good. Still got the usual horror fare, like Ouija boards and ghosts talking through radios, and heroic animals, but it’s smart enough to know when it’s being faced by something silly. It’s good.

In the same bookstore where I got my copy of this, I also found an Owen King short story collection. Owen veered away from the supernatural, unlike his brother who embraced it and his dad who, well, practically lived in it. Wonder if he’s good. Maybe I’ll check it out when I have money again.