CONTORTED PASTA

I'm reading The Little Flowers of St Francis, a nearly contemporary memoir of anecdotes about Francis of Assisi and the early days of his monastic order, and

• There are an awful lot of monks who go spend the night in the woods in pairs to, er, 'talk about God', just sayin' (hey, God is love, man)
• I have seen lots of depictions of St Francis but none of them told me the stigmata actually had nails in them?!
• Friar Juniper is basically Arthur Shappey – or perhaps more accurately Father Dougal – but either way it's funny to see that character trope go all the way back to the 13th century.

It's interesting, though ... it's a medieval Italian document translated into Victorian English and yet it still manages to sound incredibly fresh and conversational, with tenses switching to the historic present when the writer gets excited and personalities coming through the fog of time. Interesting also to see how religious and cultural values have and haven't changed since that time ... For all that the Franciscans get conflated with hippies (and there is plenty to back that up) there are moments where, say, a monk is deathly ill and wants pigs' foot to eat, so his brother monk goes off into the woods with a knife and just cuts off a pig's foot and cooks it for him, which is absolutely unthinkable nowadays.

It's also interesting just how much was happening concurrently in the 13th century – St Francis and St Dominic, who founded two of the most prominent religious orders, were contemporaries and actually met each other. Because of the music I have always jokingly called the 13th Century 'the rockingest century' but I'm starting to wonder if it actually was, at least until the 19th.

It's been a while since I did a movie review, but then it's been a while since I've been to see a movie, so that may explain it.

Last night I went to see Peter Jackson's endeavour for the WWI centenary, a collection of film clips from the time with reminiscences of veterans, recorded many decades later. The gimmick for this one was that the film was restored and colourised, which you can see very nicely in the trailer:

"They Shall Not Grow Old - Official Trailer (2018)" (Watch on YouTube)

Overall it was a decently well put-together film – I liked that there was nothing intruding on the primary sources, just straight film clips and the voices of people who were there. There were a few "artsy" bits of compositing early on that looked like someone had spent a weekend in AfterEffects, but the intent was sound and subtle enough not to grate. The only new stuff seemed to be the foley and voices added to the silent footage, which was done with great prudence and craft, I thought. I've seen and heard a fair amount of WWI stuff over the last five years – including a very impressive exhibit at Te Papa in Wellington which appeared to have had several Weta people involved with it – and this probably communicated best what it was like to be there, and to know the people involved.

That it was sympathetic to the period and its people shouldn't be a great surprise: I've spent a lot of time with Edwardians in the last ten years, and rewatching Fellowship of the Ring recently, it felt so profoundly in accordance with the feeling of that time – not a modern filming of a book written by an Edwardian, but what an Edwardian might have filmed if he had the ability. There is a slight 'garage project' feeling to They Shall Not Grow Old, but that works in its favour, I think. It's got faults, but seems to have been made with love, which counts for more.

The colourisation, for the most part, was surprisingly successful. It felt more like early colour footage than like something coloured after-the-fact, and made the clips seem surprisingly current. What didn't work so well was the process used to bring the 16 frames-per-second film up to a modern standard of smoothness. There were some very successful clips (most of which are in the trailer), but for the most part it felt kind of swimmy, and the film grain tracked with people's faces which was a bit distracting. I'm glad I saw it in 2D, as a 3D process on top of all of that would have been difficult to watch. Animators figured out early on that most people perceive 12 frames per second just as smoothly as 24 (saving us a lot of work!) so I'd much rather have seen some sort of process which gave us the original 16fps footage playing at the correct speed. Almost no one would have noticed the lower frame rate, you'd avoid the jerky sped-up feeling of early film which happens when you play 16fps at 24fps, and it would have saved them time and money. But this is Peter Jackson and it's a shiny new piece of technology, so I suppose we should just be grateful he didn't try for 48fps.

Would I recommend you see it? I don't know. It's certainly not for the faint of stomach: there are some pretty vivid injuries, and one particularly memorable shot of Trench Feet (and hands), not to mention, you know, realities of war and stuff. If you're interested in history, and especially in that time period and the psychology of its people, it's really very interesting and worth your time. If you are particularly visually attuned, you may want to wait and see it on Netflix or whatever, as the smaller image would probably flatter the process more. But if you don't notice the smoothing on a modern TV, then you may not especially care about these effects.

One last comment: the trench songs as performed by Plan 9 were really quite engaging; raw but charismatic, in the best way of folk music. The credits listed about five songs and I only caught three; I hope they're available somewhere as music in its own right because I could definitely bear to listen to them again. Currently the only trench songs I have are in Charles Chilton's 1960s radio documentary The Long Long Trail (which loosely got turned into Oh What A Lovely War), but they're sanitized and with the 60s orchestration sound rather like Mary Poppins. So well done, Plan 9. I'd have liked more of that flavour to the footage, but it was nice to see anyway.

In October of 2007, the Decemberists and Lemony Snicket released the latest (and in the case of the latter, last) instalment of their respective oeuvres in the same week. The Crane Wife and The End are still inextricably intertwined in my mind, and either will strongly evoke the flavour of my last autumn in Vancouver and everything bound up with it.

This week, the Decemberists have released their latest album, and next Friday the new series of Netflix Snicket is released.

The pattern-seeking part of my monkey brain can't help but wonder if we're on the cusp of something again.

Cette groupe ci, ils me tueront.

( One for Birdie )

( And one for ... someone else )

Well, it may not be doing much for my fluency, but I'm learning a good deal about French figurative language and the fruitlessness (ha, ha) of translation ... 
 

Another year, another Québecois song leaps out from the bush and flattens me. This one is ... basically my family history but written by complete strangers??

( Video behind cut as the sample image is obnoxiously spoilery... )

( Paroles en français )


( English lyrics )

So I guess I'm not the only one, then.

(Definitely more on the lopin de terre side than entourée d'enfants, though – happy to leave that much behind.)

Disclaimer: I am writing this between long, decongestant-ridden naps. I cannot pretend it will be coherent or, or, anything. So there you are.

Sarah Slean's new album is out at last, and you can listen to it streaming here:

CBC Music First Play: Metaphysics

... until April 7th, when it comes available to buy. (I have already bought it.)

It was ten years ago almost exactly that I heard Slean for the first time on one of the CBC's Saturday morning shows, singing "Lucky Me", prompting me to find her Myspace page (MySpace!) and listen to it on repeat for literally the rest of the day. 2007 was a pivotal year for me, and the refrain of that song played no small part in my taking the opportunities that arose in it:

And you're sad, and you're sorry,
Let it all out – what are you running for?
This is your chance, be ready –
I'm taking my seat ... Oh, lucky me!

( Bla bla blah ... )

Since the middle of July, I've been starting lists of radio links and abandoning them until the shows expire. It's not that there hasn't been good stuff, I've just been doing work that occupies more languagey parts of my brain than usual, so I haven't been able to listen to as much radio, and therefore can't assemble a list of any length worth bothering with.

In recent weeks I've been falling back in love with the CBC, so I thought I'd share some of their most stand-out shows with you, which have the benefit of remaining online for quite a long time ...

IDEAS
A weeknightly documentary series that covers just about anything so long as it makes your brain fizz. You can browse available podcasts for yourself, but my particular recent favourites as are follows:
The Discovery of Human Rights - In this age of online activism it's easy to assume the idea that all people are entitled to a certain level of respect and legal status is as 'self-evident' as Jefferson stated it to be. But it is a fairly recent development in human culture, and its progress isn't finished yet.
Coyotl's Song - The Coyote has been a part of North American folklore from time immemorial, from a First Nations trickster to the cat-snatching bugbear of modern cities. This episode contains a quick lesson in How To Speak Basic Coyote.
Wise Guys - If you like your urban wildlife of a darker and more airborne variety, this is an excellent documentary on the intelligence, success, and appeal of crows.
The Dream of Brother XII - I came for the name Edward Wilson; I stayed for a fascinating look at utopian initiatives in British Columbia, a peculiar bit of history relating to an area I know quite well, and a broader look at millennial theosophy, which has a longer history than I expected.
The Shape of Things to Come - T.E. Lawrence ("of Arabia") was an Oxford-trained archaeologist who ended up leading an Arab revolt against the Ottoman Empire during the First World War. His background knowledge of history, experience on the ground with the people and cultures of the Middle East, and relationship with British high command gave him unique insight into the region and what was to follow, and is still following – though would anyone listen to him? Of course not.
Undoing Forever - A look at the prospect – and attempts – of bringing extinct species, from Woolly Mammoths to Passenger Pigeons, back to life.
Vestigial Tale - Evolutionary psychologists take a look at the human propensity for storytelling, from a scientific perspective. Episode 1, linked above, is about the act of constructing and conveying information in narrative form; Episode 2 is about fiction and the value of telling each other things that we know are untrue.
The Sorrows of Empire - The American Empire has been called everything from a "reluctant empire" to "a colossus with attention deficit disorder". The enormous cost of foreign wars and other interventions has led to imperial overstretch. This one's next on my plate and I'm really looking forward to it ...

Speaking of history and tantalising brain porn, check out this year's Massey Lectures: The Return of History – if you're lucky enough to be in any of the cities where they're recording, it looks like you can still buy tickets; the rest of us will have to wait – somehow – until the end of October.

THIS IS THAT
Sort of like if you crossed a current affairs magazine with The Onion, but on the radio and with that certain Canadian leg-pulling tongue-in-cheekiness; its only fault is being sometimes a little too close to the truth. You can listen straight through the whole podcast list, but I'd particularly like to direct your attention to people-smuggling into Canada from the US. Ahh, satire.

DAY 6
Having lived in the US during two "normal" election years, I can only imagine what a nightmare it is for Americans to follow the news right now. Luckily for you, the CBC covers American news better than any US media outlet I know, and one of the best programmes for insight-to-time-investment ratio is the Saturday magazine show Day 6. There's not much point linking to past episodes as news doesn't keep, but if you're interested in their interviews and analysis you are welcome to browse the archive at your leisure. (There is also non-American news on that show, but I promise, it doesn't hurt.)

If you like this taster of CBC goodness, I recommend getting the CBC Radio App for your mobile device – it's available for most common platforms from whatever your OS App Store is. The splash page is a little bewildering if you're looking for something you already have in mind, but you can easily add your favourite shows to a sub-page which saves searching, and browse for new things to listen to.

AND FINALLY
A good and reliable friend has brought to my attention this week the soundtrack to a musical about the life of Edgar Allan Poe, devised by a bunch of Canucks and mainly performed north of the border (after all, what is more Canadian than Poe?), which is now available to purchase on iTunes and Amazon. I've been listening to it on repeat for two days and will likely resume doing so after this next thing I need to concentrate on. Attention to meter and rhyme, with a preponderance of minor-key waltzes, and I'm hooked.

600 Years since the Battle of Agincourt! It may have been a historical dead-end, but it spawned a kickass tune, so we can rock out to it even now.

"Young Tradition - Agincourt Carol" (Watch on YouTube)

"Silly Sisters - Agincourt Carol/La Route au Beziers" (Watch on YouTube)

Also there was, like, something about Shakespeare or I dunno. [shrug]

For the first time in a very long time we have the joy of a new Decemberists album. My own joy is a little tempered with alarm, though, as one of the songs strongly suggests Colin Meloy was spying on me for the better part of 2013. Uncanny doesn't begin to describe it.

It does explain the moustache, though ... I am a fool for moustaches like the residents of Metropolis are for glasses.





It's a good album, though, and fortuitously comes along when I'm kind of desperate for new music. This'll do me for about a week, but I'll need more. Anyone have any suggestions?

Last week I was emailed by a lovely childcare worker who thanked me for helping to make Frozen. After the initial pang of being reminded of that time, what I first wanted to say was 'I really don't deserve any credit for the film as I hardly contributed to it at all' – which is true; to this day I don't know if any of my work made it down the pipeline, or what use it may have been to anyone if it had. But instead I thanked her for her email, and told her it had been a very difficult film for a lot of the crew, and the fact it turned out to be valued by people is nice to hear.

What I didn't tell her was that I have gone out of my way not to see the film. I thought I was getting over it, but that pang when I read her email signified otherwise.

( Tealin's Demon Theatre: Monsters' Ball )

"Society Song" is my "Let it Go." It's the song of an intelligent, independent woman who sees through the bullshit around her but rises above it instead of getting suckered in or kicking it in the nads and running away. It's poetic, meaningful, musically and lyrically sophisticated, and charismatic, and it gave me a defiant theme song around which my frustration and spirit could crystallize in a positive, constructive way. I did have riches they could never see, and something better up my sleeve, because four years previously I'd been set free by being given a story that made everything happening at Disney inconsequential, and knew I could leave at any time for a perfectly happy life back in BC. They were trying to manipulate me by assuming that I, as so many others, lived for Disney and would do anything to save my job there, but I was past that, and that was something I needed to hold onto. Another important thing to remember is that vengeance is rarely worth the trouble, and often the best way to get back at those giving you a hard time is to have your own priorities that have nothing to do with them.

I can't say "Society Song" made me leave Disney, the way "Lucky Me" turned my life around in 2007, but it certainly was never far from my mind or my headphones, and its validating effect reset and strengthened my inner compass. It certainly got me through the end of my time on Frozen, and while other trials awaited me, that one didn't bring me down. So, thank you, Sarah Slean, yet again my Angel of Music.

I am a little bit in love with the video for the song but I recommend you listen to it for the first time without watching – it imposes a narrative on what are basically abstract lyrics, so limits one's perception. Then watch the video, because it's fab.

"" (Watch on YouTube)