Thursday, December 29, 2011
An Ever Fixed Mark
This is probably going to be my last post for the year, and while I'd like it to be a series of cheesy high and lowlights like what NW sucks me in with every summer, it's not. Earlier today I read these diary entries (via le projet d'amour) written by Emma Thompson during the filming of Ang Lee's Sense And Sensibility, one of my favourite films, and it's a more better (I'm sorry to quote possibly one of the most racist portrayals of a Japanese person ever, but I'm short on time). I first watched S&S with my sisters, before I read the book, and I loved it; I tried to find similarities between us and the Dashwoods, and didn't mind that I would have to be Margaret and therefore miss most of the action (I thought she was awesome anyway). I finally read it, and then one holiday when I was about fifteen, I watched it every night of the two weeks; I'd try to put other movies on, but then realise I was cheating myself, and all I wanted was to see Marianne recite Sonnet 116 in the rain, or Edward kiss Elinor's hand as they walked out of the church. I loved all three sisters, but, strangely considering the person I was (perhaps because the way she takes care of Marianne reminds me of how my sister takes care of me), Elinor was my favourite. When she tells Marianne she could have produced evidence enough of a broken heart, even for her, I want to slap Marianne, every time, in spite of the fact I talk and ask and love exactly the way Marianne does (before her heartbreak). When things happen to my sisters, I think of the scene where Marianne lies in fever and Elinor begs her not to leave her alone. I think Sense And Sensibility, more than any other film about families, captures what it is to have a sister; the shared history of events and poems, the confidences, the secret language, and the intimate knowledge of one another that no-one else can ever have.
Possibly because I think so much of Emma Thompson, the clash of Austen and the nineties doesn't bother me at all; in fact, I like it. When it came out that Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle were seeing each other, I was as disgusted as Bridget Jones was - curious (did Jennifer realise she was in love with Colin the first time she saw the set of Pemberley?), but disgusted. Reading about Kate Winslet's wedgie, however, was different; I felt as if the film was more real (not hindered by the entry about Ang Lee's anguish over Kate's torturous experience).
Anyway, I'll let you read it, and see how you feel. It's not very long, and left me wanting to read the book from which it comes, as well as watch Sense And Sensibility again, and to see my sisters, and sing the songs we grew up singing, and talk about people we all know. I have a lot to look forward to this summer (I'd have more if this cursed rain would subside!), but I think I'm most looking forward to being up north with my sisters and their girls, and our cousin (who lived with us for a bit when I was a baby) and her girls. There are lots of wonderful things about the world, but there is nothing, and I mean nothing (one more Breakfast At Tiffany's reference), like a sister.
It's been a hard year for lots of people I love, but it ends with all of us intact. The government is one I'm ashamed of, but it's galvanising me and Vincent. And even though we have to spend a night apart tomorrow, Vincent and I will see this year out and the new one in together, and that's the only way I could do it. See you next year mi amigos!
Image from The Fan Carpet.