Books, Life

films swooning (and Wodehouse)

I’ve just finished a long week of work. My brain is a little frazzled and glitchy, but that’s okay. I’m sure I’ll survive. (BUT WILL EVERYONE ELSE? HUH? HUH?!)

musick

My place of work is less than ten minutes away, and on the way there, I find myself listening to a few songs of Imagine Dragons – chiefly, Bleeding Out.

I’ve got the lyrics mostly memorised. Which means I can sing every other line. I’m dreadfully pleased with myself.

(I’m not entirely sure what the song is about – someone bleeding out? Probably. Maybe?)

benchingarden

reading

I’ve finished Ukridge (NOT pronounced Uk-bridge. Learn to read, Ness) by P.G Wodehouse. I have to say three things about this book:

  1. Ukridge is infuriating in that you want to hate him, you know you ought to hate him … but you can’t quite bring yourself to say that he is the most loathesomely selfish character in the history of ever.
  2. He has little redeeming qualities, other than being a creation of Wodehouse, and so therefore, inherently funny.
  3. Corky needed a romance, and a medal for being such a good friend – for valiantly attempting to intercede with Ukridge’s aunt on his behalf, for putting up with Cecil, and yes – even and especially Ukridge himself.

Cecil, by the way, is a young boy who wants to see the sites of London. And by ‘sites’ I mean ‘the sites where all the gory murders have taken place’.

Then, again, Cecil’s was not one of those personalities which become more attractive with familiarity. I should say at a venture that those who liked him best were those who saw the least of him.

Wodehouse always comes out with these one liners that catch you off guard and induce great merriment:

“”I’m not saying that Cecil doesn’t take a bit of knowing. He’s the sort of boy you have to be patient with and bring out, if you know what I mean. I think he grows on you.”

“If he ever grows on me, I’ll have him amputated.”

watching

Recently, I watched Last Knights and honestly … this movie. Why? Why was it made? When was it set? What was its point?

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“Why’d you put us in this film?!!”

I just … they took all the cultures and put them in a blender, added tons of epic high fantasy stills from DeviantArt, grabbed Morgan Freeman and gave him Wise Man Dialogue and *boom!* a movie. And then – just to make it that more interesting, they shoved in so many fade to blacks, it’s like the movie is constantly swooning.

Oh, and the hero? No reason to like him. No reason to sympathise with him. GIVE ME REASONS TO CARE MOVIE! But they gave me none. Zilch. Nada. They made him irredeemable and then *haha* just pretending.

But no. OOOHHH NOOOO!! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU DO IT MOVIE! THAT IS NOT HOW YOU DO IT! No. There is a line, movie. You just nuked it. It’s glass now. GLASS!

And the final shot? THE FINAL SHOT?!! He closes his eyes … and everyone sighs with relief. The movie is over. The ending wasn’t so-

BUT THEN!! His eyes flash open and it’s like the character is like:

OH SHOOT! THE OVEN! I FORGOT TO TURN IT OFF!

BAM!

*fade to black*

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Books, Recountings

Recountings: A Damsel in Distress

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A Damsel in Distress

But today he had noticed from the moment he had got out of bed that something was amiss with the world. Either he was in the grip of some divine discontent due to the highly developed condition of his soul, or else he had a grouch. One of the two.

entryfundignityI absolutely loved reading PG Wodehouse’s A Damsel in Distress. It took a little while to get into it, but then it was brilliant.

Listen, don’t read this book in a coffee shop. It’s a bad idea for your dignity. But then, as I realised recently – in life you can either have dignity or fun. I like to walk a thin line between the two, but I often topple off.

Into which side, I won’t say.

My only quibble was the ending, which though hilarious (fish! butter!) seemed a little too easy for me to swallow.

But, as the summary (pinched from goodreads) says: Comedy reigns supreme as the Earl of Marshmoreton’s sister’s plans for marrying off her relatives to landed gentry go awry.

Doesn’t it just?

Reggie’s was a troubled spirit these days. He was in love, and he had developed a bad slice with his mid-iron. He was practically a soul in torment.

goodreads // read online