Pride and Prejudice
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Posted:May 23, 2007 3:12 am
Last Updated:Apr 21, 2010 6:15 am 3054 Views
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... In this film, I see neither pride nor prejudice. Darcy is gloomy, retarded(forgive me). Elizabeth(Kightly)is stunningly beautiful, especially when beingwith all other sisters. I secretly believe the director deliberately chose "not that good looking actresses" as "Green leaves". The film did not show her fondness of Wickham who only appearred for 5 minute, so where is her prejudice coming from? Also, Mr. Bingly is a red puffy haired idiot and i cannot see why Jane loved him. The other supporting roles, such as Judy Denchy's Lady Catherine is scoldy, but not haunghty and cold; Mr. Collins keeps a nerdy clergyman's face and ......minimum dignity. One more thing puzzled me is that it seems the Bennet family lived with all sorts of animals in the house, you can see the dogs under dining table, a pig walking through the hallway and horses chewing under the eave ., So i wonder Elizabeth is, more precisely, the of not "a gentleman", but a farmer?
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Wagner vs. Puccini
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Posted:May 4, 2007 7:46 am
Last Updated:Apr 21, 2010 6:16 am 3390 Views
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If Wagner were still alive, he would jump out of the coffin and yelled at me" how dare you!" to compare HE with Puccini.
Having listered to Wagner's music dramas for 2 years and Puccini's operas since 2000, I ask myself sometimes who is the one i more favour.
to be continued
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The Parting
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Posted:May 4, 2007 7:33 am
Last Updated:Apr 21, 2010 6:16 am 2893 Views
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The day I left was full of drama: overweighted luggage, locked suitcase with a dead code that I couldn't open, invalid visa that stopped me boarding the airplane..but I cannot remember much of these now. All I recall is I woke up at 5 o'clock as mother was astir so early to prepare my breakfast. I heard the clinking of the cups and bowls. I got up from the meal, saying with a sort of briskness, " well, I must be off now." as if it was one of mornings in my high school times when I carried books to catch the early class. The street was very peaceful and quiet, and the light mists were solemnly drifting, to show me the world and I have been so innocent and little there.
'Will the mists delay the flight?' Mother worried.
The airport was busy. I followed the stream of people to the check point. Mother stopped me and thrusted a roll of painting paper into my bag's pocket. The paperroll was taken out from the suitecase before checked-in. I walked back hurriedly to the crowd. I knew she was going to cry. I was not. I sat on the chair awaiting the boarding gate open. Poeple came more and more, gathered around, noisy and bustling. I walked down through the aisle to the plane, found out my seat, lifted up my bag and threw it into the bin. I took the seat and waited. In that moment with a stronge heave and sob I broke into tears. Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for 'they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth.' I wish I would have another evening at home, and have a better parting. I would fancy an exact resemblance and my heart would beat high.
A man wearing red shirt came towards to my next seat and looked down at the number, nodded. He sat down and turned his head to the window, a blank look on his face. The mists had all arisen now and the plane started to take off. The sky lay spread before me.
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About the March
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Posted:May 4, 2007 7:19 am
Last Updated:Apr 21, 2010 6:16 am 2863 Views
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Have you ever had this scene: you see a picture and dream about it, you
know it is there, not out of reach. One day you found yourself standing
in front of it, you just cannot believe it is there. When I was on
the coach from Osaka to Nara, i asked myself twice" Am i in Japan now?"
the buildings are familiarly unknown, faces are strangly similar, word
signs are written in the language i understand. In the next 8 days, i
went to Nara, Kyoto, Osaka and Tokyo, to see it, touch it and visualize
it: I walked for two hours in the rain through "the path of philosophy"
to Nanzenji Temple, sitting on the step for hours, listening to the
raindrop; I wandered around the back street of old Koyto, smelled the
untraced signs that old times left, I watched the history of the Osaka
castle, thinking of that battle in the summer of 1615; i lost many times
in the Osaka umedo subway but it did not stop me discover its beauty.
Yesterday when I sat on my balcony, a warm afternoon, a brisk breeze, a
shadow of leaves... At one moment, I thought i was in the bustling alley
winding up to the Kiyomizu temple in Kyoto. All in my memory now.
Shang hai impressed me well this time. Spending time with my parents is
always great. Sometimes I chatted with my mother, looked at my father
dozing off aside like an old cat. The joy of being with family
surrounded me. My parents home is a quiet hermitry but the world outside
is considerably different. I saw the street encumbered with people, a dancing girl wearing scarlet gown trotting to
the hotel, an old blind man groping across the road, foreign speculators
standing in crowds and squinting at the high rises; cars in front of us
swung without a warning to turn. I saw all types of countenances:
vulnerable, honest, haughty, solemn, greedy, enchanting, ignorant,
solicitous, indifferent, despairing, flamboyant, titillating, sombre...
Shang hai is full of life when spring comes.
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