Back in 2001, I spent a weekend in Edinburgh, Scotland, with a classmate
in a five-week summer program in Northampton, England. As our kilted
tour guide led us through the city, my friend remarked on how neat it
was to be in Edinburgh, as she was from Edinboro, Pennsylvania. I was
somewhat surprised that, after visiting Dublin, London, Cambridge and a
number of other fascinating cities, our time in Edinburgh turned out to
be my favorite part of that five-week trip - though if our week-long
stay in Galway hadn’t been cancelled, my conclusion might have been
different. But it’s a gorgeous city, brimming with history, culture and
natural beauty, not to mention oodles of appealing accents. Edinboro is
no Edinburgh. But it’s still a pleasant town that I’ve gotten to know a
lot better since my brother started attending college at the university
there in 2006.
Edinboro is about a 40-minute drive away from
where I live in Erie, Pennsylvania. That’s an easy distance for us to
travel, especially on weekends, so we’ve made it out there many times.
The campus is easy to navigate, and one of the things I like about it is
that many of the streets have Scotland-themed names. Expect to see a
lot of plaid when you go to Edinboro, and if you’re lucky (well,
depending on your musical tastes), you might catch the sounds of
bagpipes on a breeze. I have a couple of times, and it’s definitely
added a smile to my day.
In addition to permanent fixtures of
the campus that reflect a Scottish heritage, Edinboro has the Highland
Games, a weekend event full of traditional food and music that offers
opportunities to compete in such areas as dance, fiddle-playing and
drumming, as well as rigorous sporting events. Usually, there seems to
be at least a bit of rainy weather to go along with the festivities, but
that doesn’t dampen many spirits. It’s a really neat tradition that
helps establish Edinboro’s unique identity. The University also has a
Pipe Band, and its fight song is a version of Scotland the Brave.
Edinboro attracts students from a wide variety of backgrounds and
interests, but a particularly strong focus is art. That’s what attracted
Nathan, who is majoring in Painting. He’s taken a number of intensive
courses on subjects ranging from Print-making to Woodworking, which
resulted in a handsome table that resided in our living room for most of
last year. Now that he’s nearing the end of his time at Edinboro, he
has the opportunity to display his work more prominently; in December,
he had his own show in the Bates Gallery in Loveland Hall, which
featured portraits he had done in various media. He has been extremely
happy with his instructors in this area. Many of his fellow art students
come to Edinboro with an interest in animation; the university has
produced several graduates who went on to work for places like Disney,
Pixar and Industrial Light and Magic. Edinboro University is also known
for being extremely accessible to disabled students. Wheelchairs are a
common sight, as it has one of the largest populations of handicapped
students in the country.
Another area of interest for Nathan
has been performing arts. This department is not as prominent as the
visual arts, and the primary performance space, the Diebold Center for
the Performing Arts is fairly small, though it is an attractive and
comfortable theatre. He has had the chance to both act in and direct
plays there, and I have always been impressed with the caliber of
performances that we have seen from all students involved.
Currently, Edinboro’s president is Dr. Jeremy Brown. Hailing from
Manchester, he has been at Edinboro a bit longer than Nathan has, and he
has shown himself to be a passionate, hands-on leader, working
tirelessly to promote the university in the greater Erie area and
beyond. He’s also made an effort to get to know the students through a
variety of campus events, and on the whole he has been the most visible
president they’ve had in quite some time.
Edinboro University
is home to about 8000 students, with about 400 faculty. It offers 15
intercollegiate sports and more than 100 different student organizations
along with more than 100 degree programs and upwards of 50 minors. The
585-acre campus includes 43 buildings and scenic woods and fields, as
well as a lake where Nathan often strolls to observe the ducks. While
I’m still partial to my own college campus of Penn State Erie, the
Behrend College, Edinboro is a very attractive place to visit,
particularly during the autumn when all of the trees are changing color.
Winter, on the other hand, can be problematic because Edinboro gets so
much snow; on a few occasions, we’ve missed out on events because the
weather was so prohibitive. Full-time tuition per semester ranges from
about $3700 for an undergrad who is a PA resident to $6500 for a
graduate student who is from out of state. On-campus housing is about
$2400, while most meal plans cost upwards of $1000.
Near the
campus are several other housing options; my brother has lived in two
different apartment complexes and found both to be satisfactory. Away
from campus, there are plenty of places to go in terms of shopping and
eating. Perkins is a favorite hangout for college students, as are a
couple of local pizza places. In the summertime, an ice cream stand on
the way out of town is a popular fixture. There are several small,
locally-owned shops where a variety of unique items can be found, and
for the basics, there’s a Walmart, at which a kilted piper version of
the yellow smiley face is painted on the wall in the entryway. The
Millcreek Mall and Peach Street, Erie’s central shopping area, is only
about a twenty-minute drive away.
I don’t know when I’m going
to make it to Edinburgh again. But it’s nice to know that I can always
get a little taste of Scotland by traveling to Edinboro, and though I
haven’t attended any classes there myself, the university has certainly
turned out to be a good fit for my brother.
Showing posts with label College. Show all posts
Showing posts with label College. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The BBC's Anne of Avonlea Sticks Closer to the Book Than Kevin Sullivan's Miniseries
A long-time fan of Anne of Green Gables, I grew up watching the
Kevin Sullivan miniseries based on the book and its sequel, based on the
second, third and fourth books in L. M. Montgomery’s series. Those two
adaptations have been firmly lodged in my mind for so long that I have a
hard time thinking of them as anything other than definitive.
Nonetheless, while Sullivan’s Anne of Green Gables is very true to the book, Anne of Avonlea takes all sorts of liberties, angering some purists. So when I discovered that the BBC had done a miniseries of Anne of Avonlea in the 1970s, I was eager to check it out.
Anne of Avonlea, as adapted by Elaine Morgan and directed by Joan Craft, is 350 minutes long and divided into six sections (or two DVDs). The first four are drawn from the book Anne of Avonlea, while the last two are from Anne of the Island. Upon reflection, I would have to say that of the five books in which Anne is the central character, Anne of Avonlea is probably the least eventful. It’s pleasant because we spend the whole time in a beloved locale, full of familiar characters like Marilla Cuthbert, Rachel Lynde, Diana Barry and Gilbert Blythe. But with Anne happily settled into village life and most of the major disasters of her impetuous youth behind her, there’s just not a lot of drama there.
I was all too aware of that throughout the first half of this miniseries. It was enjoyable enough, but it just seemed to move very slowly, especially because this is a very basic production that almost feels more like a play. The stirring score and gorgeous cinematography that contributed so much to the atmosphere of the Sullivan productions are absent here, making the whole thing seem quite drab. Additionally, if you’re familiar with the movies but not the books, as is the case with my mom, you’ll spend the first half of the miniseries comparing the actors from the two productions and wondering who all these new characters are that Sullivan skipped right over.
Rowdy Davy (Nicholas Lyndhurst) and mousy Dora Keith (Annabelle Lanyon), the orphaned children of Marilla’s cousin, are two of the most prominent newbies. Marilla (Barbara Hamilton) and Anne (Kim Braden) take the children in, and while Dora doesn’t cause much trouble, Davy is a bundle of angsty energy, fueled by his fear of abandonment and his jealousy that Anne is so fond of Paul Irving (Keith Steven), an eccentric, poetic pupil of hers. Of the three, Lyndhurst is the best actor, doing an effective job of conveying Davy’s emotional state and sounding more convincingly Canadian than the other two. Lanyon doesn’t sound Canadian at all, and it makes me wonder why that wasn’t a dealbreaker during casting. Maybe they figured she could learn; as it is, her British accent stands out jarringly whenever she speaks. Claire Lewis, who plays a young housekeeper nicknamed Charlotte IV, has a similar problem.
The adults are more consistent, and David Garfield as Mr. Harrison, the cranky neighbor with whom Anne develops a bond, is especially entertaining. Hazel Bainbridge is a kindly Mrs. Blythe, and Kathleen Byron does a good job of demonstrating the ethereality of Miss Lavendar Lewis. I also loved Susan Field in the role of Charlotte E. Morgan, a famous authoress Anne adores; she appears in just one small segment of the miniseries, but it’s one of the comedic and inspirational high points. Toward the end of the miniseries, we’re introduced to Philippa Gordon (Sabina Franklyn), a worldly student who boards with Anne and Jane (Zuleika Robson) at college, as well as her beau Jonas Blake (David Troughton), a humble clergyman. I thought that both of these characters came across very well, with the contrast between them accentuated effectively. I was less impressed with Anthony Forrest, who failed to elicit a flutter from me as Anne’s sophisticated college boyfriend, Roy Gardiner, even though this production’s Gilbert (Christopher Blake) is nothing like the heartthrob Jonathan Crombie is. He’s sweet but awkward in a Neville Longbottomish sort of way, and it’s a little easier to understand how Anne could have failed to fall madly in love with him years ago.
The performances of Megan Follows and Colleen Dewhurst are so iconic that I have a hard time adjusting to Braden and Hamilton, but I tried to remind myself that this adaptation came first and that nobody who watched it in the 1970s had such preconceived notions. Comparisons aside, each does a good job with the material. Braden comes off as passionate but less moony than Follows, while Hamilton has a permanent pout on her face that makes me think of Narnia’s Puddleglum. I miss the crinkle around Dewhurst’s eyes, but I do enjoy Hamilton’s dowdy take on the character. As Rachel Lynde, Madge Ryan is every bit as shrill and annoying as Patricia Hamilton, who happens to be Barbara Hamltion’s sister, but she lacks Hamilton’s impeccable comic timing.
The first half of the miniseries is comfortable but poky. If you love these characters already, it’s not a bad way to spend three hours. But the second half is much more interesting. It’s in this portion that adulthood really starts creeping up on Anne. Along with going to college, she receives marriage proposals from four different men, two of whom are laughably unsuitable, reminding me of Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice. On the more somber side of things, she suffers the loss of a childhood friend to illness, an experience that will haunt her all the more when Gilbert nearly succumbs to typhoid fever. The realization of how much Gilbert means to her finally dawns in a sweet scene that brings her some answers to the questions she had about her parents, but it isn’t until the very end of the miniseries that she makes Gilbert aware of this. It’s such a momentous occasion, I do think that Morgan and Craft could have given us a bit more; the tiny concluding scene hardly seems sufficient and certainly isn’t as eye-mistingly tender as Sullivan’s.
So my loyalties remain with Sullivan, his unfortunate third installment aside. But if you felt the Avonlea gang got the short end of the stick under his watch, you can get your fill of Davy, Dora, Paul, Mr. Harrison and the rest in the BBC version of Anne of Avonlea.
Anne of Avonlea, as adapted by Elaine Morgan and directed by Joan Craft, is 350 minutes long and divided into six sections (or two DVDs). The first four are drawn from the book Anne of Avonlea, while the last two are from Anne of the Island. Upon reflection, I would have to say that of the five books in which Anne is the central character, Anne of Avonlea is probably the least eventful. It’s pleasant because we spend the whole time in a beloved locale, full of familiar characters like Marilla Cuthbert, Rachel Lynde, Diana Barry and Gilbert Blythe. But with Anne happily settled into village life and most of the major disasters of her impetuous youth behind her, there’s just not a lot of drama there.
I was all too aware of that throughout the first half of this miniseries. It was enjoyable enough, but it just seemed to move very slowly, especially because this is a very basic production that almost feels more like a play. The stirring score and gorgeous cinematography that contributed so much to the atmosphere of the Sullivan productions are absent here, making the whole thing seem quite drab. Additionally, if you’re familiar with the movies but not the books, as is the case with my mom, you’ll spend the first half of the miniseries comparing the actors from the two productions and wondering who all these new characters are that Sullivan skipped right over.
Rowdy Davy (Nicholas Lyndhurst) and mousy Dora Keith (Annabelle Lanyon), the orphaned children of Marilla’s cousin, are two of the most prominent newbies. Marilla (Barbara Hamilton) and Anne (Kim Braden) take the children in, and while Dora doesn’t cause much trouble, Davy is a bundle of angsty energy, fueled by his fear of abandonment and his jealousy that Anne is so fond of Paul Irving (Keith Steven), an eccentric, poetic pupil of hers. Of the three, Lyndhurst is the best actor, doing an effective job of conveying Davy’s emotional state and sounding more convincingly Canadian than the other two. Lanyon doesn’t sound Canadian at all, and it makes me wonder why that wasn’t a dealbreaker during casting. Maybe they figured she could learn; as it is, her British accent stands out jarringly whenever she speaks. Claire Lewis, who plays a young housekeeper nicknamed Charlotte IV, has a similar problem.
The adults are more consistent, and David Garfield as Mr. Harrison, the cranky neighbor with whom Anne develops a bond, is especially entertaining. Hazel Bainbridge is a kindly Mrs. Blythe, and Kathleen Byron does a good job of demonstrating the ethereality of Miss Lavendar Lewis. I also loved Susan Field in the role of Charlotte E. Morgan, a famous authoress Anne adores; she appears in just one small segment of the miniseries, but it’s one of the comedic and inspirational high points. Toward the end of the miniseries, we’re introduced to Philippa Gordon (Sabina Franklyn), a worldly student who boards with Anne and Jane (Zuleika Robson) at college, as well as her beau Jonas Blake (David Troughton), a humble clergyman. I thought that both of these characters came across very well, with the contrast between them accentuated effectively. I was less impressed with Anthony Forrest, who failed to elicit a flutter from me as Anne’s sophisticated college boyfriend, Roy Gardiner, even though this production’s Gilbert (Christopher Blake) is nothing like the heartthrob Jonathan Crombie is. He’s sweet but awkward in a Neville Longbottomish sort of way, and it’s a little easier to understand how Anne could have failed to fall madly in love with him years ago.
The performances of Megan Follows and Colleen Dewhurst are so iconic that I have a hard time adjusting to Braden and Hamilton, but I tried to remind myself that this adaptation came first and that nobody who watched it in the 1970s had such preconceived notions. Comparisons aside, each does a good job with the material. Braden comes off as passionate but less moony than Follows, while Hamilton has a permanent pout on her face that makes me think of Narnia’s Puddleglum. I miss the crinkle around Dewhurst’s eyes, but I do enjoy Hamilton’s dowdy take on the character. As Rachel Lynde, Madge Ryan is every bit as shrill and annoying as Patricia Hamilton, who happens to be Barbara Hamltion’s sister, but she lacks Hamilton’s impeccable comic timing.
The first half of the miniseries is comfortable but poky. If you love these characters already, it’s not a bad way to spend three hours. But the second half is much more interesting. It’s in this portion that adulthood really starts creeping up on Anne. Along with going to college, she receives marriage proposals from four different men, two of whom are laughably unsuitable, reminding me of Mr. Collins in Pride and Prejudice. On the more somber side of things, she suffers the loss of a childhood friend to illness, an experience that will haunt her all the more when Gilbert nearly succumbs to typhoid fever. The realization of how much Gilbert means to her finally dawns in a sweet scene that brings her some answers to the questions she had about her parents, but it isn’t until the very end of the miniseries that she makes Gilbert aware of this. It’s such a momentous occasion, I do think that Morgan and Craft could have given us a bit more; the tiny concluding scene hardly seems sufficient and certainly isn’t as eye-mistingly tender as Sullivan’s.
So my loyalties remain with Sullivan, his unfortunate third installment aside. But if you felt the Avonlea gang got the short end of the stick under his watch, you can get your fill of Davy, Dora, Paul, Mr. Harrison and the rest in the BBC version of Anne of Avonlea.
Saturday, October 8, 2005
Fairy Tale Meets Reality in The Prince and Me
I am a sucker for sappy movies. I’ll just say that up front.
Thought-provoking is fine, but movies that tug at my heart strings are
more likely to win me over completely. So when my mom and I went looking
for a couple movies to rent recently, my eyes settled upon The Prince and Me, and when we finished watching it, I heaved the sort of happy sigh brought on by warm fuzzies. In other words, I approved.
I did a bit of searching after the movie was over and found it had been panned by critics and general audiences alike. I had to admit it was derivative, containing echoes of Coming to America, Son-In-Law and The Princess Diaries, among others. But that didn’t diminish my enjoyment of the film. In fact, I would say it was one of the sweetest movies of its genre that I have seen. With its PG rating, it manages to be almost entirely inoffensive. There were a few times when I feared it might be heading into PG-13 territory, but these scenes always were cut short before any real impropriety could occur.
The basic story is an old one. A privileged boy used to being fawned over goes incognito and falls for a girl who initially hates him. The animosity breeds passion that will eventually be refocused as they get to know one another better and discover that they actually enjoy spending time together. The boy in question is Prince Edvard (Luke Mably), whose early scenes indicate that he is a reckless, sophomoric playboy. His motivation for attending a university in the United States is a commercial he saw for a video featuring wild American college girls. He covers this up well in his explanation to his parents, but his laconic lackey Soren (Ben Miller) knows the truth and seems both amused and gratified by the fact that reserved, focused Paige Morgan (Julia Stiles) refuses to give Eddie the time of day.
The two are thrown into association with one another. They are lab partners and co-workers at the student eatery. Eddie is thrust into collegiate life, learning how it feels to be an ordinary student struggling to get by. He is humbled by the valuable life experience he gains, and his party boy demeanor dissipates surprisingly quickly. Meanwhile, he helps Paige to loosen up and have a little fun while also encouraging her to give her heart the attention she generally reserves for her mind. The seeds of romance are planted, and they begin to blossom as Eddie assists Paige in appreciating Shakespeare and Paige shows Eddie the joys of farm life back home. All the while, his true identity is hidden, but it must emerge at some point, and when it does, both of them have choices to make. It plays out in largely fairy tale fashion, but there’s enough reality in there to make us believe it could actually happen, enough chemistry between the leads that we actually want it to.
Stiles has impressed me wherever I’ve seen her, and this film is no exception. She starts out so hardened, unable to really embrace life, and slowly drops her defenses. In moments when Paige allows herself some vulnerability, Stiles is radiant. Mably is a newcomer who I expect we’ll be seeing more of. For a start, he’s in the sequel – though I’m a bit leery of that, since two of the major characters – one of them Paige – are played by different actors the second time around. At any rate, though, he starts out seeming a rogue and grows increasingly uncertain, and his charm increases spectacularly in these moments. Particularly sweet are his Shakespeare lessons, in which his courtly upbringing gives him an exquisitely old-fashioned air. He has grown up with the Bard and truly understands him – yet even as he reads passages with stirring eloquence, his emotional investment prevents him from coming across as though he is in a superior position.
Supporting cast do a fine job, particularly Ben Miller, whose Soren seems at first to loathe being forced to babysit a hopelessly immature prince. I was reminded of Hugh Laurie’s performance as Mr. Palmer in Sense and Sensibility; so few words, but such a powerful presence, and we always knew exactly how irritated he was by his bubbly, gossipy wife. Like Mr. Palmer, though, Soren is a very decent fellow, as people in sophisticated servile positions always seem to be in this type of film, and he is ultimately very likable. Paige brings out the best in him as well as the prince. Miranda Richardson turns in a mostly icy performance as Eddie’s extremely proper mother, though she thaws a bit before all’s said and done. James Fox is warm throughout as Eddie’s ailing father, and I was amused by Devin Ratray, who plays Eddie’s burnout, video game obsessed roomie Scotty.
All told, The Prince and Me is just a very sweet story simply told. There is some attempt at modernization. This is first and foremost Paige’s story, and the director was determined not to see the movie end with her giving up her dreams for the sake of a fairy tale romance. But such is the bond between these two characters that we are determined to see their relationship survive, even if a royal wedding doesn’t occur before the credits roll. I saw the alternate ending and must say I am very satisfied with the chosen finale upon comparison. Prince Edvard’s coronation speech fulfills the director’s wishes for female empowerment with abundant elegance and emotion but leaves the door open for a cathartic conclusion that contains just enough happily ever after to satisfy a sap like me.
I did a bit of searching after the movie was over and found it had been panned by critics and general audiences alike. I had to admit it was derivative, containing echoes of Coming to America, Son-In-Law and The Princess Diaries, among others. But that didn’t diminish my enjoyment of the film. In fact, I would say it was one of the sweetest movies of its genre that I have seen. With its PG rating, it manages to be almost entirely inoffensive. There were a few times when I feared it might be heading into PG-13 territory, but these scenes always were cut short before any real impropriety could occur.
The basic story is an old one. A privileged boy used to being fawned over goes incognito and falls for a girl who initially hates him. The animosity breeds passion that will eventually be refocused as they get to know one another better and discover that they actually enjoy spending time together. The boy in question is Prince Edvard (Luke Mably), whose early scenes indicate that he is a reckless, sophomoric playboy. His motivation for attending a university in the United States is a commercial he saw for a video featuring wild American college girls. He covers this up well in his explanation to his parents, but his laconic lackey Soren (Ben Miller) knows the truth and seems both amused and gratified by the fact that reserved, focused Paige Morgan (Julia Stiles) refuses to give Eddie the time of day.
The two are thrown into association with one another. They are lab partners and co-workers at the student eatery. Eddie is thrust into collegiate life, learning how it feels to be an ordinary student struggling to get by. He is humbled by the valuable life experience he gains, and his party boy demeanor dissipates surprisingly quickly. Meanwhile, he helps Paige to loosen up and have a little fun while also encouraging her to give her heart the attention she generally reserves for her mind. The seeds of romance are planted, and they begin to blossom as Eddie assists Paige in appreciating Shakespeare and Paige shows Eddie the joys of farm life back home. All the while, his true identity is hidden, but it must emerge at some point, and when it does, both of them have choices to make. It plays out in largely fairy tale fashion, but there’s enough reality in there to make us believe it could actually happen, enough chemistry between the leads that we actually want it to.
Stiles has impressed me wherever I’ve seen her, and this film is no exception. She starts out so hardened, unable to really embrace life, and slowly drops her defenses. In moments when Paige allows herself some vulnerability, Stiles is radiant. Mably is a newcomer who I expect we’ll be seeing more of. For a start, he’s in the sequel – though I’m a bit leery of that, since two of the major characters – one of them Paige – are played by different actors the second time around. At any rate, though, he starts out seeming a rogue and grows increasingly uncertain, and his charm increases spectacularly in these moments. Particularly sweet are his Shakespeare lessons, in which his courtly upbringing gives him an exquisitely old-fashioned air. He has grown up with the Bard and truly understands him – yet even as he reads passages with stirring eloquence, his emotional investment prevents him from coming across as though he is in a superior position.
Supporting cast do a fine job, particularly Ben Miller, whose Soren seems at first to loathe being forced to babysit a hopelessly immature prince. I was reminded of Hugh Laurie’s performance as Mr. Palmer in Sense and Sensibility; so few words, but such a powerful presence, and we always knew exactly how irritated he was by his bubbly, gossipy wife. Like Mr. Palmer, though, Soren is a very decent fellow, as people in sophisticated servile positions always seem to be in this type of film, and he is ultimately very likable. Paige brings out the best in him as well as the prince. Miranda Richardson turns in a mostly icy performance as Eddie’s extremely proper mother, though she thaws a bit before all’s said and done. James Fox is warm throughout as Eddie’s ailing father, and I was amused by Devin Ratray, who plays Eddie’s burnout, video game obsessed roomie Scotty.
All told, The Prince and Me is just a very sweet story simply told. There is some attempt at modernization. This is first and foremost Paige’s story, and the director was determined not to see the movie end with her giving up her dreams for the sake of a fairy tale romance. But such is the bond between these two characters that we are determined to see their relationship survive, even if a royal wedding doesn’t occur before the credits roll. I saw the alternate ending and must say I am very satisfied with the chosen finale upon comparison. Prince Edvard’s coronation speech fulfills the director’s wishes for female empowerment with abundant elegance and emotion but leaves the door open for a cathartic conclusion that contains just enough happily ever after to satisfy a sap like me.
Tuesday, February 8, 2005
Gilbert Fills Gap Left By Green Gables
When I went to college, I attended the school where my dad has taught
for years and continued to live at home with my family. Thus, the
transition was not very difficult. In Anne of the Island, Anne
Shirley faces a much more jarring collegiate experience. After seven
years in Avonlea, she has taken Marilla up on her suggestion to go to
Redmond College, for which she gave up a scholarship in favor of helping
Marilla maintain Green Gables after her brother Matthew’s death. Though
she welcomes the opportunity to distinguish herself in such a scholarly
environment, Anne feels terribly lonesome in the beginning with no
familiar faces except Priscilla, a friend from Queen’s College, and
fellow Avonleaers Gilbert and Charlie, both of whom have begun acting
very strangely around her. The acquaintance of boisterous Philippa helps
Anne to feel more accepted at Redmond, especially since Philippa’s
social connections grant Anne and Priscilla admittance into clubs and
activities that would otherwise be off-limits to them.
As college progresses, Anne and her friends rent a charming establishment called Patty’s Place that soon becomes almost as home-like as Green Gables. Its cozy interior is augmented by three cats, one of whom adores Anne exclusively in spite of her early attempts to be rid of him. Feline affections cause Anne far less trouble than those of humans as Anne finds herself the recipient of proposals by five different suitors during her time in college. Of these, three are patently ridiculous as far as Anne is concerned, but the other two give her pause. One of these is the ever-faithful Gilbert, whom Anne views as the greatest of chums but nothing like her romantic ideal. The other is Royal Gardner, a dashing young man whose grand entrance halfway through the novel is reminiscent of Willoughby’s in Sense and Sensibility. His flowery poetry, bouquets of roses and melancholy good looks are exactly what Anne has dreamed of all her life. But is she willing to break her cherished friend’s heart in favor of the beau who swept her off her feet?
Anne’s isn’t the only romance to grace the pages of this novel. Philippa, so used to being fawned over by scores of gentleman and torn between two particularly earnest lads back home, finds herself falling hard for the unlikeliest of candidates, and Anne lands herself in the home of a middle-aged woman whose courtship has been 25 years running. Diana, Anne’s childhood bosom friend, marries pudgy Fred after a long engagement. Even Davy, the young twin in Marilla’s keeping, announces intentions to marry a classmate. Romance is everywhere, and Anne can’t seem to escape it.
Gilbert haunts the pages of this novel as he did in Anne of Green Gables. Anne constantly finds herself thinking about him in spite of her determination not to. His presence is never forgotten as it occasionally was in Anne of Avonlea, where he occupied that pleasant role of friend with none of the complications of the feud that preceded it or the attempted courtship that followed it. He allows for what is perhaps the most interesting part of the novel, Anne’s awakening awareness of what real romance is all about.
If Gilbert’s increased presence is satisfying, the infrequency of Avonlea’s appearances in the novel is disappointing – though not unexpected. When Anne does go back, she is met with changes. During the first summer back, her old friend Ruby Gillis appears pale and sickly and Anne must eventually reconcile herself to the fact that Ruby is dying. As Ruby herself finally comes to grips with this notion, Anne strives to comfort her with some of the most theological passages in the series thus far. Though it is a happier occasion, Diana’s wedding is a source of great sadness for Anne as it signals a chapter of childhood that has closed behind her. There is still some room for some good old-fashioned mishaps, most notably Anne winning the prize to a contest she disapproves of after Diana alters and enters her story. When her school breaks allow it, the trips back to Avonlea are refreshing for the reader, but they don’t occur often enough and when they do they are tinged with a feeling of gloomy emptiness.
I was once again struck by how little correlation there was between this book and the film. From what I understand, the movie Anne of Avonlea draws from the second, third and fourth books, but Redmond College does not factor into the film at all. The city of Kingsport in which the college is located is retained, but it serves an entirely different purpose. The only events that make it into the movie occur in Green Gables, and some dialogue, such as Mr. Harrison’s criticism to Anne regarding her writing style and Davy’s announcement that Gilbert is dying, is transferred to other characters. The end of the book, however, is the end of the film, so I can only surmise that the bulk of the film is drawn from Anne of Windy Poplars.
I enjoyed Anne of the Island, particularly the resolution of the long-lingering question of what would happen between Anne and Gilbert. But as cozy as Patty’s place was, I missed Green Gables, and I didn’t find any new characters in Redmond that were nearly as interesting as those left behind in Avonlea. I especially missed Marilla and Mrs. Lynde, not to mention the landscape that is like a character (or several) in itself. I have a hunch that the further Anne moves into adulthood, the less enthralling I will find her adventures. But I still give this book five stars, if only because of Gilbert.
As college progresses, Anne and her friends rent a charming establishment called Patty’s Place that soon becomes almost as home-like as Green Gables. Its cozy interior is augmented by three cats, one of whom adores Anne exclusively in spite of her early attempts to be rid of him. Feline affections cause Anne far less trouble than those of humans as Anne finds herself the recipient of proposals by five different suitors during her time in college. Of these, three are patently ridiculous as far as Anne is concerned, but the other two give her pause. One of these is the ever-faithful Gilbert, whom Anne views as the greatest of chums but nothing like her romantic ideal. The other is Royal Gardner, a dashing young man whose grand entrance halfway through the novel is reminiscent of Willoughby’s in Sense and Sensibility. His flowery poetry, bouquets of roses and melancholy good looks are exactly what Anne has dreamed of all her life. But is she willing to break her cherished friend’s heart in favor of the beau who swept her off her feet?
Anne’s isn’t the only romance to grace the pages of this novel. Philippa, so used to being fawned over by scores of gentleman and torn between two particularly earnest lads back home, finds herself falling hard for the unlikeliest of candidates, and Anne lands herself in the home of a middle-aged woman whose courtship has been 25 years running. Diana, Anne’s childhood bosom friend, marries pudgy Fred after a long engagement. Even Davy, the young twin in Marilla’s keeping, announces intentions to marry a classmate. Romance is everywhere, and Anne can’t seem to escape it.
Gilbert haunts the pages of this novel as he did in Anne of Green Gables. Anne constantly finds herself thinking about him in spite of her determination not to. His presence is never forgotten as it occasionally was in Anne of Avonlea, where he occupied that pleasant role of friend with none of the complications of the feud that preceded it or the attempted courtship that followed it. He allows for what is perhaps the most interesting part of the novel, Anne’s awakening awareness of what real romance is all about.
If Gilbert’s increased presence is satisfying, the infrequency of Avonlea’s appearances in the novel is disappointing – though not unexpected. When Anne does go back, she is met with changes. During the first summer back, her old friend Ruby Gillis appears pale and sickly and Anne must eventually reconcile herself to the fact that Ruby is dying. As Ruby herself finally comes to grips with this notion, Anne strives to comfort her with some of the most theological passages in the series thus far. Though it is a happier occasion, Diana’s wedding is a source of great sadness for Anne as it signals a chapter of childhood that has closed behind her. There is still some room for some good old-fashioned mishaps, most notably Anne winning the prize to a contest she disapproves of after Diana alters and enters her story. When her school breaks allow it, the trips back to Avonlea are refreshing for the reader, but they don’t occur often enough and when they do they are tinged with a feeling of gloomy emptiness.
I was once again struck by how little correlation there was between this book and the film. From what I understand, the movie Anne of Avonlea draws from the second, third and fourth books, but Redmond College does not factor into the film at all. The city of Kingsport in which the college is located is retained, but it serves an entirely different purpose. The only events that make it into the movie occur in Green Gables, and some dialogue, such as Mr. Harrison’s criticism to Anne regarding her writing style and Davy’s announcement that Gilbert is dying, is transferred to other characters. The end of the book, however, is the end of the film, so I can only surmise that the bulk of the film is drawn from Anne of Windy Poplars.
I enjoyed Anne of the Island, particularly the resolution of the long-lingering question of what would happen between Anne and Gilbert. But as cozy as Patty’s place was, I missed Green Gables, and I didn’t find any new characters in Redmond that were nearly as interesting as those left behind in Avonlea. I especially missed Marilla and Mrs. Lynde, not to mention the landscape that is like a character (or several) in itself. I have a hunch that the further Anne moves into adulthood, the less enthralling I will find her adventures. But I still give this book five stars, if only because of Gilbert.
Friday, August 29, 2003
I Do Not Attempt to Deny that I Esteem Miss Austen Greatly
I was a junior in college in the fall of 2001, laboring away in a number
of challenging courses required for my major. Perhaps the most
difficult but also the most enjoyable was The Canon and its Critics,
taught by my esteemed professor Dr. Gregory Morris. When 9-11 struck,
our class had just begun to immerse itself in Paradise Lost, a
sobering epic that seemed to fit the tumultuous times all too well. It
was a bit of a relief to get through Milton and on to something a bit
lighter. Next up? Sense and Sensibility, by Jane Austen.
I recall my professor asking a classmate of mine what she thought of the book so far before our first class discussion. “Well, it all seems so petty,” she remarked. True, Sense and Sensibility concerns itself with the everyday affairs of a couple young British girls, never touching much on any of the serious national or global issues of the time. And there is all that frilly language to cut through; I myself found the first hundred pages somewhat arduous. But Sense and Sensibility is about real human emotions, even if they are encased in a multitude of manners and pleasantries. And I think it was probably just what I needed at the time, to focus on the small, often amusing details of everyday life, those little moments that make us who we are. And to get my mind off the end of the world.
Sense and Sensibility was the first of two novels I studied that semester with Dr. Morris that I truly enjoyed. While I expected to love the latter, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I didn’t know what I would have to think about Austen. It sounded a tad boring, and I found it a tad boring… at first. I found myself reminded of the novel The Princess Bride, in which the author describes a fictitious history with the book he is writing, claiming this is the “good parts version” of the S. Morgenstern classic that his father always read to him. At various times, he would interject with italicized comments indicating what he had skipped over. I figured I could use that here, and I actually managed to get it in the form of Emma Thompson’s masterful film adaptation. But first, I had to force myself to read those first few chapters.
The novel’s key players are sensible Elinor Dashwood and her headstrong younger sister Marianne. Daughters of the recently widowed Mrs. Dashwood and sisters of the elusive Margaret, they find themselves at the outset of the novel relocating to a cottage near an accommodating cousin because their older brother has been convinced by his shrewish wife to take over the Dashwood family residence and share little of the inheritance that was meant for the whole family. Young Mr. Dashwood treats his sisters politely, though without much affection; his wife’s coldness is unbearable. However, the Dashwoods do leave dear friends behind when they make their move. Most particularly, the move separates Elinor from Edward Ferrars, the awkward young gentleman whom she “esteems greatly.” Although Marianne is frustrated by what she perceives as a lack of passion in Edward, she is more frustrated by this emptiness in her own sister. Elinor refuses to admit to being in love with Edward, and Marianne wonders whether her sister is capable of true emotional investment in anyone or anything.
Once the Dashwoods are securely settled in their comfortable cottage, several secondary characters are introduced and the events of the novel begin to unfold. While Elinor manages the affairs of the household, she also waits for word from Edward. When he finally does come to visit, she senses an abrupt change in manner that befuddles her until it is accidentally explained to her by Lucy Steele, a seemingly flighty young woman close to Elinor’s age. Meanwhile, Marianne clings to her idyllic notions of the perfect romance, and it seems that they are about to be fulfilled when a dashing young stranger by the name Willoughby sweeps her quite literally off her feet after she suffers a nasty fall while fleeing a rainstorm in the field. But Willoughby is not all that he appears to be, and prior failures in character catch up to him, leaving Marianne at her over-emotional worst.
Other significant characters include Sir John, the cheerful and slightly daft cousin who invited the Dashwoods; Mrs. Jennings, a jolly old woman whose nose for gossip is especially sharp; the reticent Mr. Palmer and his chatterbox wife; and the honorable and Eeyorish (a word just added to the Oxford English Dictionary - see if you can guess the meaning…) Colonel Brandon. Each adds depth to the novel with his or her full developed characterization. One character who isn’t fully developed is poor Margaret, who probably got the short end of the stick because she was such a youngster. We never get much of a sense of who this third sister is, and she pretty much drops out of the novel altogether towards the end. (One of the questions Dr. Morris wrote on the board on the final day of discussions was “What happened to Margaret?!”) But for the most part, each of the characters has a very important role to play.
Characters such as Sir John, Mrs. Jennings, and the Palmers primarily provide comic relief. The older man and woman are charming as well as aggravating to the young Dashwoods, while the Palmers’ interactions with one another are hilarious. It’s hard to imagine a more mismatched couple, and yet they make it work. Marianne and Elinor each display an extreme of character: Marianne is too romantic, too impractical, too self-involved, while Elinor is too bound by societal rules, too practical, too selfless. While Elinor’s character is on the whole far more admirable than Marianne’s, they both can take a lesson from one another. Their character extremities cause them both unneeded heartache, but their trials lead them to a very satisfying conclusion.
I’m not sure who my favorite character would be in this novel. Elinor is quite a positive role model, a very intelligent, well-mannered, caring young woman. She is probably one of my favorite female characters in literature. I am also, due in part to the enthusiasm of Dr. Morris, partial to Colonel Brandon. His quiet dignity and melancholy elegance make him a striking foil for that handsome cad Willoughby. And sweet, bumbling Edward is just too adorable. How can you not love such a perfect gentleman?
Another positive aspect of this book: It highlights the practice of correspondence, and its sacred place in a relationship. Letter-writing seems to be a dying art, but reading this book made me more mindful of the elegance and grace with which words can be delivered to those we love, and the special significance of seeing those words put to paper. During the course of this unit, we had to give Dr. Morris our proposal for the semester-long Anthology Project, and I could not resist sending mine in the style of Jane Austen. Receiving Dr. Morris’ acceptance of my project, written in kind, was the highlight of my day.
Sense and Sensibility may be difficult to get into, but stick with it. It is moving and hilarious, and it all builds to a rather unexpected but happy ending for our heroines. I had never read Austen prior to this, and I can’t think of a better introduction. Thanks, Dr. Morris. Kindest and most humble regards, your esteemed former student, Erin McCarty. :)
I recall my professor asking a classmate of mine what she thought of the book so far before our first class discussion. “Well, it all seems so petty,” she remarked. True, Sense and Sensibility concerns itself with the everyday affairs of a couple young British girls, never touching much on any of the serious national or global issues of the time. And there is all that frilly language to cut through; I myself found the first hundred pages somewhat arduous. But Sense and Sensibility is about real human emotions, even if they are encased in a multitude of manners and pleasantries. And I think it was probably just what I needed at the time, to focus on the small, often amusing details of everyday life, those little moments that make us who we are. And to get my mind off the end of the world.
Sense and Sensibility was the first of two novels I studied that semester with Dr. Morris that I truly enjoyed. While I expected to love the latter, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I didn’t know what I would have to think about Austen. It sounded a tad boring, and I found it a tad boring… at first. I found myself reminded of the novel The Princess Bride, in which the author describes a fictitious history with the book he is writing, claiming this is the “good parts version” of the S. Morgenstern classic that his father always read to him. At various times, he would interject with italicized comments indicating what he had skipped over. I figured I could use that here, and I actually managed to get it in the form of Emma Thompson’s masterful film adaptation. But first, I had to force myself to read those first few chapters.
The novel’s key players are sensible Elinor Dashwood and her headstrong younger sister Marianne. Daughters of the recently widowed Mrs. Dashwood and sisters of the elusive Margaret, they find themselves at the outset of the novel relocating to a cottage near an accommodating cousin because their older brother has been convinced by his shrewish wife to take over the Dashwood family residence and share little of the inheritance that was meant for the whole family. Young Mr. Dashwood treats his sisters politely, though without much affection; his wife’s coldness is unbearable. However, the Dashwoods do leave dear friends behind when they make their move. Most particularly, the move separates Elinor from Edward Ferrars, the awkward young gentleman whom she “esteems greatly.” Although Marianne is frustrated by what she perceives as a lack of passion in Edward, she is more frustrated by this emptiness in her own sister. Elinor refuses to admit to being in love with Edward, and Marianne wonders whether her sister is capable of true emotional investment in anyone or anything.
Once the Dashwoods are securely settled in their comfortable cottage, several secondary characters are introduced and the events of the novel begin to unfold. While Elinor manages the affairs of the household, she also waits for word from Edward. When he finally does come to visit, she senses an abrupt change in manner that befuddles her until it is accidentally explained to her by Lucy Steele, a seemingly flighty young woman close to Elinor’s age. Meanwhile, Marianne clings to her idyllic notions of the perfect romance, and it seems that they are about to be fulfilled when a dashing young stranger by the name Willoughby sweeps her quite literally off her feet after she suffers a nasty fall while fleeing a rainstorm in the field. But Willoughby is not all that he appears to be, and prior failures in character catch up to him, leaving Marianne at her over-emotional worst.
Other significant characters include Sir John, the cheerful and slightly daft cousin who invited the Dashwoods; Mrs. Jennings, a jolly old woman whose nose for gossip is especially sharp; the reticent Mr. Palmer and his chatterbox wife; and the honorable and Eeyorish (a word just added to the Oxford English Dictionary - see if you can guess the meaning…) Colonel Brandon. Each adds depth to the novel with his or her full developed characterization. One character who isn’t fully developed is poor Margaret, who probably got the short end of the stick because she was such a youngster. We never get much of a sense of who this third sister is, and she pretty much drops out of the novel altogether towards the end. (One of the questions Dr. Morris wrote on the board on the final day of discussions was “What happened to Margaret?!”) But for the most part, each of the characters has a very important role to play.
Characters such as Sir John, Mrs. Jennings, and the Palmers primarily provide comic relief. The older man and woman are charming as well as aggravating to the young Dashwoods, while the Palmers’ interactions with one another are hilarious. It’s hard to imagine a more mismatched couple, and yet they make it work. Marianne and Elinor each display an extreme of character: Marianne is too romantic, too impractical, too self-involved, while Elinor is too bound by societal rules, too practical, too selfless. While Elinor’s character is on the whole far more admirable than Marianne’s, they both can take a lesson from one another. Their character extremities cause them both unneeded heartache, but their trials lead them to a very satisfying conclusion.
I’m not sure who my favorite character would be in this novel. Elinor is quite a positive role model, a very intelligent, well-mannered, caring young woman. She is probably one of my favorite female characters in literature. I am also, due in part to the enthusiasm of Dr. Morris, partial to Colonel Brandon. His quiet dignity and melancholy elegance make him a striking foil for that handsome cad Willoughby. And sweet, bumbling Edward is just too adorable. How can you not love such a perfect gentleman?
Another positive aspect of this book: It highlights the practice of correspondence, and its sacred place in a relationship. Letter-writing seems to be a dying art, but reading this book made me more mindful of the elegance and grace with which words can be delivered to those we love, and the special significance of seeing those words put to paper. During the course of this unit, we had to give Dr. Morris our proposal for the semester-long Anthology Project, and I could not resist sending mine in the style of Jane Austen. Receiving Dr. Morris’ acceptance of my project, written in kind, was the highlight of my day.
Sense and Sensibility may be difficult to get into, but stick with it. It is moving and hilarious, and it all builds to a rather unexpected but happy ending for our heroines. I had never read Austen prior to this, and I can’t think of a better introduction. Thanks, Dr. Morris. Kindest and most humble regards, your esteemed former student, Erin McCarty. :)
Tuesday, October 2, 2001
Ohhhh Noooo!!! The Next Generation of Tetris Lures in Unsuspecting College Student...
I first became acquainted with Snood last year, when I discovered that
most of the members of the school's newspaper staff were addicted to
this odd-looking game. Whenever an editor was late to a meeting, a
fellow editor would announce, "Oh, they're probably playing Snood."
Sometimes the game would even find its way into the meeting via
someone's laptop.
I viewed this phenomenon with some bemusement, not entirely understanding the obsession but still itching ever so slightly to try it myself. Imagine my surprise when I returned home from my overseas travels to find that my brother had installed it on my computer in my absence.
"Wow," I thought. "This is that game that everyone at school is so obsessed with. I ought to give it a shot."
And so I did. I just started playing and figured it out as I went along. When I was younger, I used to spend hours playing Tetris. Now I found myself doing the same thing. Snood is quite a bit different from Tetris, but it still operates under the basic premise that keeping the board as clear as you can is a good thing.
In Tetris, you must navigate oddly shaped blocks into recesses of the same shape. When you complete a solid line, that line disappears. The goal is not to let the blocks touch the top. As an added frustration, you have a limited amount of time in which to rotate and maneuver each block.
In Snood, each object you are working with is a single unit whose shape and face depends upon its color. The blue Snood is a small circle that looks like Mr. Bill. The red one is roughly the same size and has a less definite shape. It resembles some sort of demon. The orange Snood is a large sun-like circle, green is a large square, purple is a triangle, and light blue is a square-like shape surrounded with fringes. Time is not an issue. You can take as long as you want to launch that Snood. Try to line it up with another of the same color, or start a new color group. In order to latch on to harder-to-reach Snoods, try ricocheting off of the side. You'll have less control over where it goes, but it might just lead you to eliminate a whole string of Snoods.
This is a game of strategy. You have to line Snoods up in groups of three. Sometimes a group much larger than that will be there when the level begins, and all you need to do in order to disperse it is attach a Snood to the whole lot. The bigger the group the better, and the more Snoods are supported by it the better. You get the highest points by dispersing large clusters of Snoods with several random Snoods attached to them with nothing left to cling to.
Snood comes in five basic levels: Child, Easy, Medium, Hard, and Evil. I started out always playing Journey, which takes you through the levels until you are unable to clear one, but now I stick to Evil, which is very populous, moves down towards the bottom of the screen very quickly, and includes many skulls, which are dead Snoods that can only be removed by shooting down the Snood clusters that support them. An additional option is Puzzle, in which Snoods are not laid out in rows but are arranged in a strange pattern. I've only played this a couple times. It's pretty tough.
Snood involves only the motion of waving around a mouse and clicking it. It can become monotonous, and if you've been staring at the screen for a couple hours playing it your arm will probably start to hurt and your eyes will start to water. The problem is that this game is so darn addictive! You get on your computer to do your homework and say "Oh, I'll just play a quick game of Snood before I write my paper." There is no such thing as a quick game of Snood. One leads to another, which leads to another, which leads to another... Don't let it happen. Be warned, Snood will grab hold of you and will not let you go willingly. Be prepared to fight back. If you try Snood, just know what you're getting yourself into...
I viewed this phenomenon with some bemusement, not entirely understanding the obsession but still itching ever so slightly to try it myself. Imagine my surprise when I returned home from my overseas travels to find that my brother had installed it on my computer in my absence.
"Wow," I thought. "This is that game that everyone at school is so obsessed with. I ought to give it a shot."
And so I did. I just started playing and figured it out as I went along. When I was younger, I used to spend hours playing Tetris. Now I found myself doing the same thing. Snood is quite a bit different from Tetris, but it still operates under the basic premise that keeping the board as clear as you can is a good thing.
In Tetris, you must navigate oddly shaped blocks into recesses of the same shape. When you complete a solid line, that line disappears. The goal is not to let the blocks touch the top. As an added frustration, you have a limited amount of time in which to rotate and maneuver each block.
In Snood, each object you are working with is a single unit whose shape and face depends upon its color. The blue Snood is a small circle that looks like Mr. Bill. The red one is roughly the same size and has a less definite shape. It resembles some sort of demon. The orange Snood is a large sun-like circle, green is a large square, purple is a triangle, and light blue is a square-like shape surrounded with fringes. Time is not an issue. You can take as long as you want to launch that Snood. Try to line it up with another of the same color, or start a new color group. In order to latch on to harder-to-reach Snoods, try ricocheting off of the side. You'll have less control over where it goes, but it might just lead you to eliminate a whole string of Snoods.
This is a game of strategy. You have to line Snoods up in groups of three. Sometimes a group much larger than that will be there when the level begins, and all you need to do in order to disperse it is attach a Snood to the whole lot. The bigger the group the better, and the more Snoods are supported by it the better. You get the highest points by dispersing large clusters of Snoods with several random Snoods attached to them with nothing left to cling to.
Snood comes in five basic levels: Child, Easy, Medium, Hard, and Evil. I started out always playing Journey, which takes you through the levels until you are unable to clear one, but now I stick to Evil, which is very populous, moves down towards the bottom of the screen very quickly, and includes many skulls, which are dead Snoods that can only be removed by shooting down the Snood clusters that support them. An additional option is Puzzle, in which Snoods are not laid out in rows but are arranged in a strange pattern. I've only played this a couple times. It's pretty tough.
Snood involves only the motion of waving around a mouse and clicking it. It can become monotonous, and if you've been staring at the screen for a couple hours playing it your arm will probably start to hurt and your eyes will start to water. The problem is that this game is so darn addictive! You get on your computer to do your homework and say "Oh, I'll just play a quick game of Snood before I write my paper." There is no such thing as a quick game of Snood. One leads to another, which leads to another, which leads to another... Don't let it happen. Be warned, Snood will grab hold of you and will not let you go willingly. Be prepared to fight back. If you try Snood, just know what you're getting yourself into...
Thursday, August 23, 2001
"MIND THE GAP!"
As some of you may have noticed, I haven't been around much lately. My
last review is from the end of June. That's because I just spent six
weeks in England, and whenever I wasn't doing work for my classes I
wanted to be taking advantage of every free minute I had, even if it
just meant hanging out in the dormitory lobby with my new friends, many
of whom hailed from other countries. Anyway, I'm back now, ready to
write and hoping to earn back my role as advisor as well (or "top
reviewer", to use the new term).
While I was overseas, I spent the majority of my time on the campus of University College Northampton, which is just a couple of hours away from London by train. But part of our program included a one-week field trip, to be determined by the classes we took. Mine took me to London, while the other students hopped around Italy and France. My group stayed in London from noon on Monday until 6:00 pm on Friday. There were one or two scheduled excursions each day, which we were not obligated to attend. Essentially, we had free reign to decide what we did and did not want to do.
I know that there was a great deal in London which I did not see, but we managed to squeeze a lot into the time we spent there.
The Tower of London: This was our first stop, after we purchased our Tube passes. Really a misleading name, because the "Tower of London" is comprised of many towers and buildings. We were on a limited schedule and weren't able to see very much of it; I don't think any of us were expecting it to be as vast as it was. Tickets were about $12 per student; adult rates were higher.
Important advice: If you are a student, bring proof. ISIC cards are ideal, but most places will accept high school or college ID. Almost every place with an entrance fee has a student rate, so it's a big money saver.
Our first glimpse of the Tower consisted of an antelope placidly grazing in the yard outside of one of the towers. A plaque introduced him as Bobby, the tower's mascot. An English antelope... intriguing. We also got to peek at the royal ravens and walk along the upper wall to view the grounds below -- and to discover, to our surprise, that there are apartments just on the other side of that wall. In the courtyard, an English guard bedecked in traditional regalia stood watch; we took pictures of his giant teddy bear counterpart. And of course, we had to see the Crown Jewels. That had been our main reason for coming, after all. And they were most impressive. Glittering and gorgeous and I-don't-even-want-to-think-about-how-expensive. Not surprisingly, we weren't permitted to take pictures, but it was still worth the half-hour wait to get in to see them.
Jack the Ripper: Okay, so this wasn't a typical historical landmark, but on our first night our entire group went of a Jack the Ripper tour of London. Thank goodness it stayed light until quite late that night; I don't think I could've handled this tour in the dark. Our extremely knowledgeable tour guide took us to all the places where Jack the Ripper committed his murders and described in gruesome detail just how he carried them out. It was most informative but not for the faint of heart.
Globe Theater: Recently redone, this outdoor circular theater allows viewers to see plays staged much as they would have been in Shakespeare's day. This was also a pre-paid part of our trip, though I think the cost was also around $12. The seating areas are hard wooden benches, so investing in a cushion for $1.50 isn't a bad idea. And since Shakespeare isn't always the easiest fellow to follow, you might do well to purchase a program, which gives a nice synopsis of the play as well as background information on it and on the theater itself.
Westminster Abbey: Massive and marvelous, this house of worship is well worth visiting. Look inside ($6 for students) and see the walkway where Princess Diana's casket made its procession during her funeral. Stop by Poet's Corner, where you'll find plaques commemorating such greats as Lewis Carroll, the Brontes, and Geoffrey Chaucer. Walk through the rooms of statues memorializing the monarchs of the past and gaze upward at the intricate designs on the ceiling and around at the delicate stained glass windows. If a priest comes out during your stay in order to lead a moment of prayer, take the time to sit in the pew and use this building for its original purpose. When you leave -- or before you go in -- be sure to stop by Big Ben, probably the most famous clock in the world. It's a very short walk from one to the other, and if you go just a little further, you'll bump into the London Eye, the enormous ferris wheel constructed in honor of the millenium.
St. Paul's Cathedral is the other church you won't want to miss. It was high on my priority list because it is the backdrop for one of my absolute favorite Disney songs, Feed the Birds. Ironically, you won't find too many birds fluttering around the front of the cathedral, looking for a handout. For that, go to Trafalgar Square, where producing a bread crumb causes 50 pigeons to land on you. What you will find at St. Paul's, aside from another beautiful church, is an astounding view of London, should you feel inclined to climb 560 stairs to get it. It's a tough walk, but it's broken up by two earlier lookout points. One overlooks the sanctuary, the other overlooks London. At the very top, it's much like the Statue of Liberty in that the walking area is tiny and there are lots of people trying to see. So, despite the view, you won't want to stay up there too long for fear that an irate fellow traveler will attempt to fling you from the balcony. But I certainly considered it another $6 well spent.
Buckingham Palace, Downing St., and Scotland Yard are all nice to see, but that's about all there is to do. All three sites are very crowded, and there are thick gates obstructing the view to the first two. One plus to Scotland Yard: the mounted guards are out in front and more than willing to let tourists introduce themselves to their horses.
Kew Gardens is one place I'd actually never heard of, but I went there on the last day of my field trip. It's an amazing horticultural park filled with plants from all over the world. Beware: the top level of the main greenhouse is stifling and sweltering. However, if you go directly from the top to the bottom level, where the aquarium is housed, you'll get a nice refreshing blast of cool air to bring you back to life. The landscaping outside is amazing, and wild birds abound, gliding gracefully over the park's waters. This particular attraction is located in Zone 3, which is quite a distance away from most of the major tourist spots. I believe admission was about $8. In the more central area of London, you can find equally gorgeous landscaping and an overabundance of waterfowl in such refuges as St. James Park and Heyd Park, which are free as long as you don't sit on the lawn chairs.
This is only the tip of the iceberg of what there is to see in London. Be sure, before you go, to get a guide book so you have some direction and some idea of what you want to see. Another essential investment is a Tube pass; it will get you within visual proximity of virtually anywhere you want to go, as long as you can figure out the Tube map. It takes a little practice. And, of course, lots of film and lots of money. London is very expensive. But make sure you keep your money secure, because pickpockets are not an unusual phenomenon. One of the teachers in our group, an experienced traveler, fell victim to an Artful Dodger during our stay.
Whatever you do, keep an eye on someone in your group at all times. London is extremely crowded. People are everywhere, and if you turn your head for a minute, you may lose your companions entirely. And prepare yourself for the Tube. There is often a mad rush to get on and off, and more than once the subway doors closed with half our group inside and half out. There are often more people than seats, so make sure you situate yourself near a bar that you can hold on to if you're forced to stand.
The most amusing / annoying aspect of the Tube, at least to our group, was the constantly replayed reminder to "MIND THE GAP" -- that is, don't fall down onto the track when you're getting on or off the train. By Friday, we'd grown quite accustomed to it, just as we'd grown accustomed to the constant chorus of mobile phones, the shoving crowds, and the blanket of cigarette smoke that enveloped us everywhere we went. We grew accustomed to nearly being plowed down by motorcycles as we crossed the street and receiving looks of bewilderment when we asked for separate checks in a restaurant. And almost all of us returned for a day or two once we got back to Northampton.
London is an amazing city, and it is definitely worth a visit. I would recommend it to anyone for a week, but I could never live there. Too many people, too much second-hand smoke, just too much of a big city. But in small doses, London is a city with something for everyone and a place where you can make memories to last a lifetime.
While I was overseas, I spent the majority of my time on the campus of University College Northampton, which is just a couple of hours away from London by train. But part of our program included a one-week field trip, to be determined by the classes we took. Mine took me to London, while the other students hopped around Italy and France. My group stayed in London from noon on Monday until 6:00 pm on Friday. There were one or two scheduled excursions each day, which we were not obligated to attend. Essentially, we had free reign to decide what we did and did not want to do.
I know that there was a great deal in London which I did not see, but we managed to squeeze a lot into the time we spent there.
The Tower of London: This was our first stop, after we purchased our Tube passes. Really a misleading name, because the "Tower of London" is comprised of many towers and buildings. We were on a limited schedule and weren't able to see very much of it; I don't think any of us were expecting it to be as vast as it was. Tickets were about $12 per student; adult rates were higher.
Important advice: If you are a student, bring proof. ISIC cards are ideal, but most places will accept high school or college ID. Almost every place with an entrance fee has a student rate, so it's a big money saver.
Our first glimpse of the Tower consisted of an antelope placidly grazing in the yard outside of one of the towers. A plaque introduced him as Bobby, the tower's mascot. An English antelope... intriguing. We also got to peek at the royal ravens and walk along the upper wall to view the grounds below -- and to discover, to our surprise, that there are apartments just on the other side of that wall. In the courtyard, an English guard bedecked in traditional regalia stood watch; we took pictures of his giant teddy bear counterpart. And of course, we had to see the Crown Jewels. That had been our main reason for coming, after all. And they were most impressive. Glittering and gorgeous and I-don't-even-want-to-think-about-how-expensive. Not surprisingly, we weren't permitted to take pictures, but it was still worth the half-hour wait to get in to see them.
Jack the Ripper: Okay, so this wasn't a typical historical landmark, but on our first night our entire group went of a Jack the Ripper tour of London. Thank goodness it stayed light until quite late that night; I don't think I could've handled this tour in the dark. Our extremely knowledgeable tour guide took us to all the places where Jack the Ripper committed his murders and described in gruesome detail just how he carried them out. It was most informative but not for the faint of heart.
Globe Theater: Recently redone, this outdoor circular theater allows viewers to see plays staged much as they would have been in Shakespeare's day. This was also a pre-paid part of our trip, though I think the cost was also around $12. The seating areas are hard wooden benches, so investing in a cushion for $1.50 isn't a bad idea. And since Shakespeare isn't always the easiest fellow to follow, you might do well to purchase a program, which gives a nice synopsis of the play as well as background information on it and on the theater itself.
Westminster Abbey: Massive and marvelous, this house of worship is well worth visiting. Look inside ($6 for students) and see the walkway where Princess Diana's casket made its procession during her funeral. Stop by Poet's Corner, where you'll find plaques commemorating such greats as Lewis Carroll, the Brontes, and Geoffrey Chaucer. Walk through the rooms of statues memorializing the monarchs of the past and gaze upward at the intricate designs on the ceiling and around at the delicate stained glass windows. If a priest comes out during your stay in order to lead a moment of prayer, take the time to sit in the pew and use this building for its original purpose. When you leave -- or before you go in -- be sure to stop by Big Ben, probably the most famous clock in the world. It's a very short walk from one to the other, and if you go just a little further, you'll bump into the London Eye, the enormous ferris wheel constructed in honor of the millenium.
St. Paul's Cathedral is the other church you won't want to miss. It was high on my priority list because it is the backdrop for one of my absolute favorite Disney songs, Feed the Birds. Ironically, you won't find too many birds fluttering around the front of the cathedral, looking for a handout. For that, go to Trafalgar Square, where producing a bread crumb causes 50 pigeons to land on you. What you will find at St. Paul's, aside from another beautiful church, is an astounding view of London, should you feel inclined to climb 560 stairs to get it. It's a tough walk, but it's broken up by two earlier lookout points. One overlooks the sanctuary, the other overlooks London. At the very top, it's much like the Statue of Liberty in that the walking area is tiny and there are lots of people trying to see. So, despite the view, you won't want to stay up there too long for fear that an irate fellow traveler will attempt to fling you from the balcony. But I certainly considered it another $6 well spent.
Buckingham Palace, Downing St., and Scotland Yard are all nice to see, but that's about all there is to do. All three sites are very crowded, and there are thick gates obstructing the view to the first two. One plus to Scotland Yard: the mounted guards are out in front and more than willing to let tourists introduce themselves to their horses.
Kew Gardens is one place I'd actually never heard of, but I went there on the last day of my field trip. It's an amazing horticultural park filled with plants from all over the world. Beware: the top level of the main greenhouse is stifling and sweltering. However, if you go directly from the top to the bottom level, where the aquarium is housed, you'll get a nice refreshing blast of cool air to bring you back to life. The landscaping outside is amazing, and wild birds abound, gliding gracefully over the park's waters. This particular attraction is located in Zone 3, which is quite a distance away from most of the major tourist spots. I believe admission was about $8. In the more central area of London, you can find equally gorgeous landscaping and an overabundance of waterfowl in such refuges as St. James Park and Heyd Park, which are free as long as you don't sit on the lawn chairs.
This is only the tip of the iceberg of what there is to see in London. Be sure, before you go, to get a guide book so you have some direction and some idea of what you want to see. Another essential investment is a Tube pass; it will get you within visual proximity of virtually anywhere you want to go, as long as you can figure out the Tube map. It takes a little practice. And, of course, lots of film and lots of money. London is very expensive. But make sure you keep your money secure, because pickpockets are not an unusual phenomenon. One of the teachers in our group, an experienced traveler, fell victim to an Artful Dodger during our stay.
Whatever you do, keep an eye on someone in your group at all times. London is extremely crowded. People are everywhere, and if you turn your head for a minute, you may lose your companions entirely. And prepare yourself for the Tube. There is often a mad rush to get on and off, and more than once the subway doors closed with half our group inside and half out. There are often more people than seats, so make sure you situate yourself near a bar that you can hold on to if you're forced to stand.
The most amusing / annoying aspect of the Tube, at least to our group, was the constantly replayed reminder to "MIND THE GAP" -- that is, don't fall down onto the track when you're getting on or off the train. By Friday, we'd grown quite accustomed to it, just as we'd grown accustomed to the constant chorus of mobile phones, the shoving crowds, and the blanket of cigarette smoke that enveloped us everywhere we went. We grew accustomed to nearly being plowed down by motorcycles as we crossed the street and receiving looks of bewilderment when we asked for separate checks in a restaurant. And almost all of us returned for a day or two once we got back to Northampton.
London is an amazing city, and it is definitely worth a visit. I would recommend it to anyone for a week, but I could never live there. Too many people, too much second-hand smoke, just too much of a big city. But in small doses, London is a city with something for everyone and a place where you can make memories to last a lifetime.
Wednesday, June 27, 2001
It's Pauly Shore...Need I Say More?
Okay, so I'm not exactly the world's biggest Pauly Shore fan. He ranks
only a notch or two below Gilbert Gottfried on the Incredibly Annoying
scale, and in certain films, he surpasses that mark. Son-in-Law, however,
is tolerable. Shore is still obnoxious, in a sort of lovable way.
Though I think I would probably have reacted similarly to the main
character's parents when they first meet his unconventional character,
Crawl...
Rebecca is a country girl, sweet, naive, and valedictorian of her class. College is a major adjustment, and she's not handling it very well. After a few too many bad experiences, she's ready to throw in the towel and go home. But Crawl, her zany RA, isn't about to let her leave without a fight. This extremely unusual character, who was the first person Rebecca met at college, turns out to be a pretty decent guy, and after a night on the town with him Becca decides to stick college out, at least until Thanksgiving.
When that time comes, Becca is dismayed to discover that Crawl has no place to go for Thanksgiving vacation. She graciously offers to let him stay with her. Her family is surprised enough to see their daughter with a new nickname and a new look when they greet her back home, but they are nothing short of shocked to discover that she has brought Crawl home with her. Her boyfriend's not too thrilled either, and in an attempt to ensure his claim to her, he proposes shortly after her arrival. Becca is not ready to make that kind of step, so she begs Crawl to cover for her. Unfortunately, his idea of a cover-up is blurting out that Becca is already planning to marry him...
Hilarity ensues as Crawl tries to fit in with Rebecca's countrified family and gain their acceptance, all the while trying to work out how he will tell them that he isn't really engaged to their daughter. Becca's former boyfriend, meanwhile, plots revenge on this college guy who is so hopelessly out of place in the country. Poor little Crawl stuck in the middle of all this. What's a city boy to do?
There was one point in time when this was my brother's favorite movie, so I watched in several times. It's certainly good for a few laughs, and though it is not without its groans, I would say that this is probably the best role I've seen Pauly Shore in. And hey, it's all worth it to see him barreling through the fields in a tractor, blasting Thank God I'm a Country Boy!
Rebecca is a country girl, sweet, naive, and valedictorian of her class. College is a major adjustment, and she's not handling it very well. After a few too many bad experiences, she's ready to throw in the towel and go home. But Crawl, her zany RA, isn't about to let her leave without a fight. This extremely unusual character, who was the first person Rebecca met at college, turns out to be a pretty decent guy, and after a night on the town with him Becca decides to stick college out, at least until Thanksgiving.
When that time comes, Becca is dismayed to discover that Crawl has no place to go for Thanksgiving vacation. She graciously offers to let him stay with her. Her family is surprised enough to see their daughter with a new nickname and a new look when they greet her back home, but they are nothing short of shocked to discover that she has brought Crawl home with her. Her boyfriend's not too thrilled either, and in an attempt to ensure his claim to her, he proposes shortly after her arrival. Becca is not ready to make that kind of step, so she begs Crawl to cover for her. Unfortunately, his idea of a cover-up is blurting out that Becca is already planning to marry him...
Hilarity ensues as Crawl tries to fit in with Rebecca's countrified family and gain their acceptance, all the while trying to work out how he will tell them that he isn't really engaged to their daughter. Becca's former boyfriend, meanwhile, plots revenge on this college guy who is so hopelessly out of place in the country. Poor little Crawl stuck in the middle of all this. What's a city boy to do?
There was one point in time when this was my brother's favorite movie, so I watched in several times. It's certainly good for a few laughs, and though it is not without its groans, I would say that this is probably the best role I've seen Pauly Shore in. And hey, it's all worth it to see him barreling through the fields in a tractor, blasting Thank God I'm a Country Boy!
Tuesday, April 17, 2001
Behrend Was My School Long Before I Was a Student
Penn State Behrend has been a part of my life for as long as I can
remember. My dad has taught at this college my whole life, so I wandered
around the campus many times as a child. The grand sloping hill behind
the Behrend Science Building was a favorite sledding spot. I frequented
the pool by the Glenhill Farmhouse, which is no longer used, during many
a hot summer. I still tramp around in the creek with my family, my dog
running back and forth to be sure that we're following her. So I knew
long before I began to attend school here that the scenery couldn't be
beat.
But great scenery does not make a great school. Behrend has a lot more going for it than babbling brooks and squirrel-filled trees. It has a cozy atmosphere where students can get to know one another. There are about 3,800 students here, and most classes contain an average of 20 or 30 students. The teachers here are very helpful and willing to meet with students outside of class. In class, most of the teachers I've had have been engaging and knowledgeable. The college consists of four Schools -- Business, Engineering, Science, and Humanities -- and each major within those schools is filled with stimulating required classes and teachers who really want the students to succeed.
There are over 75 clubs at Behrend, ranging from service organizations to gaming clubs to theatrical groups to student government to campus ministry. Whatever your interests are, you're sure to find something right up your alley at Behrend. We've also got lots of special events and speakers. In the past couple years, we've had such guests as comedian Al Franken, musician Ellis Marsalis, and poet Stephen Dunn. We are about to welcome Shaggy for a concert. Details on upcoming events and much more can be found in our nifty newspaper, the Behrend Beacon.
Students looking for a place to hang out can go to Bruno's, which is hailed as "Behrend's nightclub". Well, that's a stretch, but it is a very nice little cafe, named after Ernst Behrend's dog, where students can watch tv as they munch on a piece of pizza or a chicken wrap.
It takes about ten minutes to walk from one end of campus to the other, and the newly built Athletic and Recreation Center (ARC) is just across the street. There are computer kiosks in the Academic Building and Reed, which is where Bruno's is located. Also in the Academic Building is the library, where there is an actual computer lab. Another lab is located in the Hammermill building on the other end of campus.
One frustrating thing about Behrend for many has been the lack of adequate parking space, but the school continues to strive for improvements in that regard. All in all, Behrend is a great school with dedicated teachers and a comfy atmosphere. You may be able to transfer to State College after two years, but I'm staying right here until I graduate.
But great scenery does not make a great school. Behrend has a lot more going for it than babbling brooks and squirrel-filled trees. It has a cozy atmosphere where students can get to know one another. There are about 3,800 students here, and most classes contain an average of 20 or 30 students. The teachers here are very helpful and willing to meet with students outside of class. In class, most of the teachers I've had have been engaging and knowledgeable. The college consists of four Schools -- Business, Engineering, Science, and Humanities -- and each major within those schools is filled with stimulating required classes and teachers who really want the students to succeed.
There are over 75 clubs at Behrend, ranging from service organizations to gaming clubs to theatrical groups to student government to campus ministry. Whatever your interests are, you're sure to find something right up your alley at Behrend. We've also got lots of special events and speakers. In the past couple years, we've had such guests as comedian Al Franken, musician Ellis Marsalis, and poet Stephen Dunn. We are about to welcome Shaggy for a concert. Details on upcoming events and much more can be found in our nifty newspaper, the Behrend Beacon.
Students looking for a place to hang out can go to Bruno's, which is hailed as "Behrend's nightclub". Well, that's a stretch, but it is a very nice little cafe, named after Ernst Behrend's dog, where students can watch tv as they munch on a piece of pizza or a chicken wrap.
It takes about ten minutes to walk from one end of campus to the other, and the newly built Athletic and Recreation Center (ARC) is just across the street. There are computer kiosks in the Academic Building and Reed, which is where Bruno's is located. Also in the Academic Building is the library, where there is an actual computer lab. Another lab is located in the Hammermill building on the other end of campus.
One frustrating thing about Behrend for many has been the lack of adequate parking space, but the school continues to strive for improvements in that regard. All in all, Behrend is a great school with dedicated teachers and a comfy atmosphere. You may be able to transfer to State College after two years, but I'm staying right here until I graduate.
Monday, February 26, 2001
Goofy Goes to College
In An Extremely Goofy Movie, high school has finally ended, and Max, like most high school
graduates, is eagerly looking forward to his first taste of
independence. He will be joined at college by two old friends, and all
three are excited. Goofy is devastated. He doesn't know what he's going
to do without his son, and it distracts him from his work at the
factory. Before he knows it, he's out of work, and he is shocked to
discover that he can't get a new job because he doesn't have a college
degree. Oh, well. No problem...he'll just go to school with Max!
Max is already having difficulty adjusting to the college scene. He is determined to enter the Extreme Games, but he's already made enemies with the leader of the toughest team on campus. This gang is set to make his life miserable, and his buds are along for the ride. Luckily, they find a friend in a coffee shop beatnik, who Max's best friend PJ immediately takes a liking to. But just as life starts looking up for Max, Dad shows up in class wearing a huge afro wig on his head and announcing himself as Max's dad.
Goofy went to college in the '70s apparently and dropped out, so he's stuck in that era. Everything about him reeks of disco. He finds understanding with a librarian who, despite her quiet demeanor, has quite a wild side which comes out when she discos with Goofy.
Goofy would be having a great time at college if it weren't for the fact that his son is so antagonistic towards him. This is heightened when Goofy is picked up by the opposing Extreme team and outperforms Max. Goofy's disillusionment in discovering his son's distaste for him is demonstrated through a psychadelic dream filled with swirling images and set to the tune of Come on, Get Happy. It's beginning to look like neither father nor son will be happy anytime in the near future, but when the true test comes, the love that Goofy and Max have for one another will triumph.
This is a good movie well suited to Goofy's character, but it's not terribly original. It bears a striking resemblance to a certain Rodney Dangerfield movie, but I suppose that this should hardly be surprising. Disney has very few films that aren't based on another story. I wouldn't put this in a league with Disney classics such as Pinocchio, Jungle Book, and The Lion King, but if you like Goofy, you're sure to get some laughs out of it.
Max is already having difficulty adjusting to the college scene. He is determined to enter the Extreme Games, but he's already made enemies with the leader of the toughest team on campus. This gang is set to make his life miserable, and his buds are along for the ride. Luckily, they find a friend in a coffee shop beatnik, who Max's best friend PJ immediately takes a liking to. But just as life starts looking up for Max, Dad shows up in class wearing a huge afro wig on his head and announcing himself as Max's dad.
Goofy went to college in the '70s apparently and dropped out, so he's stuck in that era. Everything about him reeks of disco. He finds understanding with a librarian who, despite her quiet demeanor, has quite a wild side which comes out when she discos with Goofy.
Goofy would be having a great time at college if it weren't for the fact that his son is so antagonistic towards him. This is heightened when Goofy is picked up by the opposing Extreme team and outperforms Max. Goofy's disillusionment in discovering his son's distaste for him is demonstrated through a psychadelic dream filled with swirling images and set to the tune of Come on, Get Happy. It's beginning to look like neither father nor son will be happy anytime in the near future, but when the true test comes, the love that Goofy and Max have for one another will triumph.
This is a good movie well suited to Goofy's character, but it's not terribly original. It bears a striking resemblance to a certain Rodney Dangerfield movie, but I suppose that this should hardly be surprising. Disney has very few films that aren't based on another story. I wouldn't put this in a league with Disney classics such as Pinocchio, Jungle Book, and The Lion King, but if you like Goofy, you're sure to get some laughs out of it.
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