I watched this the other day with Anna (it's titled Departures in the West) and really enjoyed it. I had a bit of a problem with the mingling of almost camp humour (the opening scene involves the discovery of 'a thing' on a seemingly female corpse) and contemplative scenes, but I think by the end the comedy was softened enough by the more serious material so as not to be too distracting, and in some senses, it even provoked interesting tragi-comic dimensions. The spirituality of the corpse preperation was pleasingly introduced, but it never really comes into proper focus, as the rest of the film rather distracts from the movement to what is hinted at as profundity. Which is a shame. We see flashes of a beautifully human connection between those living, and those who have passed away, but the film never really capitalizes on this connection, and you finish the film feeling that you might have witnessed something important, but you're not really sure. That said, the next film I watched was Stepbrothers, which, whilst having its moments of comedy, was, all things considered a pretty dire film. The best parts of the film and the worst parts both stem from Will Ferrell's physical comedy.

I'm also in the process of watching Medea, the 1969 film by Pier Paolo Pasolini. It also is a notable watch for being the famous Maria Callas's only film role. She's actually a very beautiful women - or at least in the film seems to exert a powerful allure appropriate to the jilted lover role she takes on. The film itself is a little bit different in execution from Euripedes' drama, notably in the long expansion of the work of Jason and the Argonauts, which is compressed into a kind of background chorus performed by the nanny in the original. Visually, it's an absolute feast, drawing heavily on an anthropologically-driven aesthetic that truly is quite beautiful. When we look at Brecht's idea of verfremdungseffekt in Shakespeare, he is all for the recovery of period costumes, to alienate the audience, and enliven them to the reality of the play on stage. I think that same drive exists in Medea, but in the inverse - the removal of standardised costume appropriate to the Greek play, and the replacement with a motif which seems to self-consciously point to its own otherness, works extremely effectively.

In other news, since my last update I have had a UCL ball, and the final do for the English department. It was sad times, as it has started feeling like I really am going to have to leave soon (a few weeks, no less), and the usual haunts of college and Camden will be hard to replace. Anna has finished all of her exams so I've been lucky enough to spend a decent amount of time with her, which is jolly nice, especially after our self-imposed exile from love which was commenced alongside the exam period. Tomorrow I'm planning on going to the British Library's exhibition on maps, which I've been looking forward to, as I can't make the day I was originally planning on heading in for with some course mates. A few of my housemates seem keen though, and I will try and draft Anna in too, so hopefully I won't be on my lonesome, cast adrift in cartography.

I also would just like to add that I haven't become some kind of Medea obsessive, it's just the timing of the posts that make it appear so. I might actually pop into the library tomorrow and try and do something vaguely productive, but, as always, we will see just how far intention and actuality can seperate tomorrow. Until next time.

Labels: film

She studies hard, they're almost done,
at table 2 they're having fun.
But no such luck for this beauty,
wrapped in her study misery.

I want to kiss her - I miss her,
And keep my fingers always crossed.,
That this girl gets all that she wants -
She's all that I have ever wanted.

I just want to add that this post was pseudo-ironic. I'm not a poet, but I'm also not that bad.


Seriously, how good is this picture? I think I might actually have it turned into a postcard and sent out to loved ones and friends. Well, my exams are finally over. They were over this time yesterday, but this day yesterday I had already embarked on a 13 hour powernap, so I wasn't in much of a position to blog. I kind of wish that I had gone crazy and gone drinking, but I have quite a few big nights coming up, and to be honest, bed was far more appealing. Does that make me uncool? Maybe. But did it feel good to be in bed and go to sleep, knowing an alarm was not going to go off the next morning. Oh yes. Very sweet indeed. I suppose I haven't really spoken too much about exams yet, so I will briefly say that, on the whole, as a collective, I didn't do as well as I would have liked. Or to be more precise, I fancied that, based on the work I put in, they could have gone slightly better. But they certainly weren't train wrecks (with the exception of the last one, which, more worryingly was on the very subject of my Masters next year) and as much as I had some disappointing suprises, I did have some lucky breaks too. I'm still expecting to do well, but I do think my average may well have taken a nice little hit from Romantics and Renaissance. Just to let you know (and I do wonder wh this hypothetical second-person pronoun I continually address could be, because I certainly feel like no one reads this, and Google analytics more or less confirms that sad truth) I wrote on revenge tragedies (Duchess of Malfi, The White Devil, The Spanish Tragedy), class in The New Arcadia, and promethean spaces in Donne's Works.

STILL - you live and you learn, and I'm certainly proud no matter what happens of the work I put in. I think that's important, because I really do feel like I don't have any regrets - I wouldn't have changed my revision at all, and that's actually very comforting. Now it's just the loooong wait until June 11th when I will find out my degree class. Fingers crossed for a fortnight then. Today on my first day of freedom I went and returned some books, went and bought some new ones (Archipelagic English, Henry V, Spenser's Poetical Works, and a collection of plays from Euripides) and read, well, will have read before the night is done, Medea. It was very very pleasant, and I got to spend a whole heap of time with Anna which was great too as revision has made us seeing each other something of a freak occurence rather than a soothing irregularity. Hopefully more of that to come once her exams finish on Friday (good luck if you read this!)

I include in this post a painting, Medea, by Frederick Sandys, just because I'm reading the source, and because I find myself half in love with and half hating the work of the Pre-Raphelites, so perhaps this will be some kind of catalyst for a reconsideration.

I also changed my bed sheets for the first time in what must be 4 or 5 months, so I'm simultaneously proud of that achievement, and disgusted with my former conduct. I sometimes find it shocking that anyway would want to be my housemate, let alone my girlfriend. I must have really good chat to make up for it or something.

Right, enough rubbish. Back to reading.

Labels: english, exams, reading, revision, UCL

I'm just practicing John Donne quotes, and it's faster on computer. I figured I might get some hits out if it too:

CAREY: he survives on the fringes of society
his prose acts like the screwing down of a microscope into focus
KERMODE: Donne the poet is claiming what Donne the theologian claims is impossible; he constantly recurs to the point that man cannot desire annihilation.
MISC. thixotropic, antes muerto que mudado, 
Satire 3. on a huge hill
1622 sermon. such a Hill as may be seen every where
Love's Progress. the empty and ethereal way (link to Goodfriday, 1613. Riding Westward)
A Valediction: Of my name in the window. Here you see me, and I am you, Or think this ragged bony name to be / My ruinous anatomy. thy melted maid, scatterd body, recompact, the muscle, sinew, and vein / Which tile this house
The Progress of the Soul: Metempsychosis. his flesh is jelly yet, and his bones threads, like children's teeth through gums, those sinewy strings which do our body tie, like an unbent bow, tender conduit-pipe, as if his vast womb were / Some inland sea
conduits and cisterns, Psalms 51:6: Behold, thou desir'st truth in the inward parts. this infinite hive of honey...hath no dissection discovered to us. Meditation IV, Hymn to God my God, In my Sickness 'in all flat maps (and I am one, no man is an island entire of himself, every man is a piece of the continent.
Paradox 1. Because it begun must die, For after perfection immediately follows excess
Sir Robert Ker: 'Jack Donne' / 'Dr Donne'
Sir Henry Wotton: 'they are but swaggerers'
The Second Anniversaire: one might almost say her body thought, th'Electrum
A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Night: I am re-begot / Of absence, darkness, death - things which are not.
The Sun Rising: She's all states, and all princes I. The rags of time.
The Canonization: we'll build in sonnets pretty rooms
The Good Morrow: and makes in one little room an everywhere
A Valediction: forbidden Mourning: A breach, but an expansion, / As gold to every thinness beat.
If there be a minute of sand left (there is not), if there be a minute of patience left, hear me say, that minute that is left is the eternity we speak of.
The Exstasy: Our hands were firmly cemented / With a fast balm, which thence did spring; / Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread / Our eyes upon one double string.


Just checked. All correct. Two more lots to learn. Keep going.

Labels: quotes

Well, it looks like I've overestimate the library again - was all set to go but apparently it doesn't open until 9.30. So I have a little free time and thought I might blog (novel idea these days). First up, I am revising for my last undergraduate exam ever. I find this wildly exciting, but I've sort of lost my momentum a bit - finding it hard to maintain the inertia and keep motivated. Hopefully popping into the library will compel me to do some work today; I'm planning on staying until closing time, as every hour really is starting to count.

Also, last night I went to the ULU Laurels, an award ceremony for services to the Union, where I picked up an eponymous. It was fun, but it was certainly overlong, and at times bizarre. Lo-fi classical music was being pumped in to the hall during dinner, and it seemed to have a fairly...traumatic twist to it. Included were Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, which I found odd but potentially endearing. When it switched to Dies Irae though, I was truly flummoxed. Overall it was a fun night, but I think I'm going to have to really crack on with the Donne revision to make up for lost time - I only stayed a bit longer after the awards were finished, but it was lengthy enough to ensure I had had a few glasses of wine in me. With the aim of providing dynamic, multimedia content, I have included a few pictures.


The other thing that entered my head was that I'm not really sure where my student journalism stuff is going to go while I'm at Cambridge - they have an excellent paper, Varsity, but it's pretty well known for being very intense and very cliquey. I'm not sure I want that. I was however thinking back to a conversation I had with Joe (editor next year of London Student) about blogs, and was wondering if potentially I could do something this way - maybe on HE Policy. I don't think my not being at ULU would really have to matter because a blog is kind of supplementary material anyway. I do think I will mention it to him, he can only say no.

Labels: revision, yay

I've always wanted to put a non-Latin character set up as a blog title, so I guess today is the fulfilment of that dream. I've just finished watching Waltz With Bashir, which I watched in two halves over the last two days. Initially, I was somewhat confused generically by the piece - the films positions itself as a documentary (interviews complete with subtitles of the interviewees' names appear on screen) but seems a little more...ephemeral.

Obviously, I'm fairly late to the party with this one, as it was released in 2008, so I shan't go off and do a review or anything. I did think that it was an extremely effective production though. I particularly liked the brazenness of repeating the hallucination scene at the beach. Ari Folman can't remember what he was doing the night of the massacres at Shabra and Shatila. The viewer is compelled to be involved in the hallucinations which plug the gaps. Each repetition is identical. There is no concession for having seen it before. The haunting (but perhaps too self-consciously tragic - I think additive minimalism is a bit easy really) Max Richter soundtrack maintains itself identically in each facsimile too. I was very impressed. Glad I decided to watch that instead of Family Guy. Then ending was superb: emotive; compelling; and understated. The visuals are certainly ambitious, and in many scenes they are superb, particularly in scenes with difficult lighting. Otherwise, in terms of animation, movements can be a little regimented and clunky, or worse still, things often don't seem to move at all. It gives it all a bit of nightmare quality, a bit like a moving equivalent of a ransom note, all little pieces hinged unhappily together into a not quite homogenous group. Perhaps that's all part of it. But on the whole I found the dynamism of the animations more off-putting than praiseworthy.



I have also been reading through Book 1 of the New Arcadia, a feat which will undoubtedly not be impressive to anyone who hasn't tussled with Sidney. I remember it as good, but on second reading, I'm finding it really quite excellent. Whether that's a familiarity thing or whether I'm a more sensitive reader, I don't know. I hope the latter. I suspect the former. Also watched F1 qualis. Glad for the Aussie, sad for Kubica. One day Robert, you'll make it.

Labels: f1, film, revision

Right! I finally have a bit of free time on my hands. I've finished four exams, and I only have one left to go, set for the 24th of May, 14:30. Renaissance Literature. It seems from past papers a potentially trickly little nut, but I have some time now to try and crack that sucker. Meanwhile, since my Shakespeare post (and first exam), I have written on cause and effect in short stories, bungalows, Orpheus, Browning, universities, and Elizabeth Bishop, as well as pantomimes, peasant poets, and Walter Scott. Mixed bag, but kind of fun anyway, in only a slightly masochistic way. I have been watching some Gilmore Girls (awesome program, partially in love with Lorelai (sp?) and Rory, although my gf combines most of the best elements of both with a pleasant Scottish brogue to boot) and was thinking about all the books I am going to buy after exams. I have the following:

Henry V Shakespeare
Archipelagic English Kerrigan
Revenge Tragedy Kerrigan
A nice copy of the complete Works? In fairness, although I sneered at this idea when I came back to uni this year, and went for individual copies, it is more portable if you want to deal with multiple texts at a time. And who doesn't want to do that, right?
Porterhouse Blues Tom Sharpe
The Masters C. P. Snow. These last two are just indulgences. Actually they are all indulgences. Whatever.

As I said, four exams are down, and I have decided to put some predictions up. I realise this could come back to haunt me, but it's kind of a left over from all those times my Mum forced me to do it at A-Level and GCSE, and it gives me something to think about. So here's what I reckon:

Shakespeare: 70 71 (Decided to boost that up a bit)
Criticism: 67
Romantics: 65
Mods II: 68

I include a photo that has been, simultaneously, a great provider of entertainment for both myself and Anna:



I have not forgotten the blog, I am just too busy with revision right now. Will hopefully have time for a post on Thursday night.

I know what you're all thinking. 'Danny's a great guy. But you know who else is a great guy - Jude Law. If only I could...' Well let me stop you there, because through the miracle of the internet, and gratuitous amounts of time to myself, I have fashioned a monster of Frankenstein-like proportions. At Morphthing you can merge any two faces, or you can make a predicted baby. I wanted to see what my baby would look like with a certain Scottish girl, but I had neither the appropriate picture, nor 3.5 minutes to wait (I have no idea why it takes so long for children instead of normal morphs - perhaps it's supposed to represent gestation or something. Anyway, here is how half of my face, combined with half of Jude's face looks.

I reckon he beats us both. Smug bastard.

Labels: bored, random

"The circle of human knowledge, illuminated by the pale, cold light of reason, is so infinitesimally small, the dark regions of human ignorance which lie beyond that luminous ring so immeasurably vast, that imagination is feign to step up to the borderline and send the warm, richly colored beams of her fairy lantern streaming out into the darkness ; and so, peering into the gloom, she is apt to mistake the shadowy reflections of her own figure for real beings moving in the abyss.

Sir James George FrazerThe Golden Bough

April 2010 / May 2010 / June 2010 / July 2010 / August 2010 / September 2010 / February 2011 / April 2011 / August 2011 / September 2011 /

Messing with Illustrator / /homeless / The irony of househunting. / Househunting / Some old material / Favourite capture on Google Maps Street View / Idiot librarian / THIS IS NOT THAT DAY! / Confirmation (not religious) / love data? love data. /

The title of this blog comes from a poem by Coleridge, A Wish: Wriiten in Jesus Wood, Feb. 10th, 1792, Plus most blogs are moans anyway. Including this one. lol manuscripts

email me here
twitter dannywhitelock
bootlessmoan.blogspot.com

I'm a 23 year-old student in London Cambridge London, studying English Literature Law. It's hard to really think of anything truly personal I can put here that might give you some idea of who I am, so I will just tell you that my favourite Shakespeare play is Richard II, my favourite chocolate bar is Snickers, and I have a bit of a thing for instant coffee, especially if someone else makes it for me.

I'm interested in Renaissance Literature, Higher Education policy, and libraries.
I'm completely in love with a Scottish girl.