Lately I've been ...

... writing absolutely nothing. No poems, no journaling, no letters (long overdue). Even this blog has lately become less about writing something new and more about posting stuff already written, by me or by someone else. Lazy, lazy, lazy. Must get off my duff and write that letter already.

... reading Orthodoxy  by G. K. Chesterton; Arise from Darkness  by Fr. Benedict Groeschel, C. F. R.; and Christopher Morley's New York  for something light. Orthodoxy,  of course, is a classic of Catholic apologetics. I haven't yet read John Henry Newman's Apologia,  but it might be very interesting to compare the two. Arise from Darkness'  subtitle is "What to Do When Life Doesn't Make Sense". In the wake of all the recent senseless acts of violence, I gravitated toward this book and the author's down-to-earth, tell-it-like-it-is brand of spirituality. He's a tough old priest, and I love his straightforwardness. As for the Morley, I think I'll like it even better than his Philadelphia,  which was delightful.

... listening to music not as much as I was a month ago. For Christmas, my sister gave me two CDs of Paul Lewis—one is from his Beethoven Sonatas series and the other is Schubert Sonatas. Those are really the only things I've listened to seriously in the past month. For me, Lewis hasn't yet fulfilled his potential, which I think is very great. I think so far, he's only hinted at depths to come. I look forward to hearing more from him.

... watching Downton Abbey !!! Woohoo! Only, enough with Bates in jail already; can't we give him and Anna something else to do and talk about? Aren't they getting awfully bored with it all? I know I am. On another channel, I was very happy with the outcome of Next Iron Chef: Redemption.  Alex Guarnischelli's Iron Chef title is long, long overdue. Now they need to get Amanda Freitag to join the ranks.

     Movie-wise, I've been to see Les Misérables  twice already and love it. However, I do have a difficult time reconciling Russell Crowe's (Javert) limited vocal prowess with his skillful dramatic portrayal and screen presence. To use a contemporary idiom, it's a disconnect for me. Anne Hathaway (Fantine) and Eddie Redmayne (Marius) are excellent, vocally and dramatically. Also, though I'm favorably impressed by Hugh Jackman's performance—despite a distressing wobble and occasional strident nasality—and think his Valjean masterfully portrayed, I remain unmoved by his (and the director's) rendition of "Bring Him Home." In my opinion, it should be the stillest moment in the show, even on film, but both Jackman and the camera hardly ever stop moving. And Jackman's lack of a true falsetto makes the number less poignant for me. Overall, though, I love the film.

... loving this chilly weather! And the rain! (As long as I don't have to drive in it.)



My 25-Year Love Affair with Les Miz

     In the summer of 1987 at the Palace Theatre in London, I saw the musical Les Misérables for the first time. Twenty-five years ago. Hard to believe. Unfortunately, due to jet lag, I took an unintentional snooze during the whole scene of "A Heart Full of Love," but what I did see I absolutely loved. Not only did I buy the recording (cassettes in those days, pre-CD era) of the original British cast, but I also bought the original Broadway cast recording. And after some length and considerable searching (pre-Amazon era as well), I managed to track down the cassette of the original French version. For this last, I called all the music stores in town, to no avail. In fact, one dealer became downright insulting after I informed him of the fact that Les Miz actually premiered in Paris, not in London as he insisted. "Look, I know what I'm talking about; you don't. It premiered in London." Okay. You just lost a potential customer, fella. No matter. I can't remember where I eventually found the French recording, and I suppose, if I were the vindictive type, I would have marched into that store and waved it under the dealer's nose.

     I listened to the British recording ad nauseum, weeping copious tears every time. (Of course, I have since replaced the cassettes of all three versions with CDs.) When I saw it the second time nine years later, again in London, I wept as much as I did the first time I saw it (and managed to stay awake through "A Heart Full of Love"). I never saw it in New York or on tour. I don't even think I'll see it during this current tour. But I am determined to see the film, which opens on Christmas Day. Judging from the slight stinging I feel behind my eyes just watching the trailers, I expect I will again weep copious tears. One would have to have A Heart Full of Stone not to be moved by this powerful saga; as for the music, the snootiest critic would have to admit it is extremely affecting and difficult to forget. Even this snooty critic has surrendered to its charms.

     Have I read the novel? Sort of. I skipped great chunks, such as the lengthy history and description of the Parisian sewer system. All right, I admit it, I only read the parts that are depicted in the show; but in my own defense, I don't like to read things in translation except for Homer, Virgil, and Ovid. In view of the fact that only my Italian is fluent enough for extended reading, this means that I have never read many of the world's major authors such as Flaubert, Cervantes, Tolstoy, etc. Somehow, though, experiencing foreign literature through their musical adaptations is a different matter; after all, a good many opera librettos are translations of their original sources.

     Anyway, I shall hie myself to the cinema, if not on Christmas Day, then as soon as I am able, armed with a very large box of Kleenex.