Cosplay 2012

I have found myself with unexpected time tonight, and was thinking about this subject in the shower this morning and it turned into a post. And it’s good that I’m finally posting, since I am very very far behind on my goal of two posts a month. Um. Sorry about that. School sort of swallowed me again, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to get much better. But anyway, back to the post.

In part this post is a prelude for what’s to come this year, because I am actually going to a fan convention! My boyfriend and several other friends and I will be attending the Denver Comic Con in June, which of course means that I will be cosplaying. There are several other events coming up which I will, or may, or may not, attend which will also involve costumes of some sort, and so I’m putting up a legitimate list this year. Hopefully, I will stick to it.

The costumes:

Steampunk fashion show – Our library district is holding a steampunk fashion show in June this year and I’m a little bit fascinated by the aesthetic elements. This costume would be very simple for me and pretty easy to put together (likely a vest-skirt-blouse ensemble), and I can definitely reuse the costume.

Starfleet Uniform – Long have I yearned to be a Starfleet officer myself, and long have I yearned to make the uniform dresses from Star Trek: The Original Series. This is a costume I will definitely do, because it should be relatively simple (admittedly, I’m not going for 100% exact accuracy here) and I can wear it to other events besides Comic Con. Also, the pattern I plan to use for it can be recycled for an outfit further down the list…

Trisha Elric – A costume that I may or may not do, but probably will. This will be for Comic Con as well and should be good for the weather. I’ve been meaning to do it for a while, again because it is simple and easy, and I can use my real hair, which is always a plus.

Belle – Yet another costume I can use my real hair with! Belle is almost certainly my favorite Disney princess, I suppose because I can relate to her and I’m a bit like her. This costume should also be relatively simple, and also comfortable in the June weather. I haven’t quite made up my mind whether or not to do it, mostly because I might recycle one of my other costumes for a day of Comic Con, but we’ll see.

Sailor Jupiter – Frankly, this isn’t likely to happen this year. While I can use my own hair for the costume and it would be good for June, I’m not sure I want to tackle a fuku for Comic Con, since I only have about 5 weeks between when school gets out and the convention starts. I have wanted to do her for a while since Sailor Moon holds a lot of nostalgia for me, but if I’m already sewing two other costumes the chances of doing this one to my standards are pretty slim.

Brave – Do you ever have those moments where crazy ideas come to you in the shower? That seems to happen to me a lot, and this idea was one of those moments. It came out of nowhere. If I do do this (and I very likely won’t) I’ll use this pattern from Butterick (view B), with the blue-green/teal color in satin (maybe with a print) on top and a cream/off white satin (maybe) on the bottom, with gold trim for the belt. And I wouldn’t bother with a wig. And then I would wear it like the Pixar nerd I am to the movie when I went to see it.

ABBA outfit – Absolutely happening this year. My friends and I have made a tradition of going to the ABBA tribute concert every summer at Red Rocks and this year I am determined to dress up (and hope the others will too as they say). I plan to use the same pattern I’m using for my Starfleet uniform to make an awesome green minidress, and I’m going to see if I can’t find some inexpensive go go boots to wear with it.

The Avengers – We’ll see. If I do it, it will be ridiculous and I’ll throw accuracy out the window, but my friends and I plan to go the midnight opening and someone suggested we go in costume. What I’ll be costumed as…we’ll see.

The Hobbit – Depending on how motivated I feel and how broke I am, I would like to make a costume to wear to the midnight premiere. I’ve always liked the costuming in the LOTR movies and medieval/Renaissance fashion is, in a way, my bread and butter, so I would probably make a bodice, chemise, and skirt and go as a hobbit.

If Only All Film Adaptations Were This Good

By a stroke of good fortune, I had the chance to see the new film adaptation of The Hunger Games at midnight on Thursday. I had wanted to see the movie, but I wasn’t especially excited about it and had very neutral expectations. Boy, did I get a surprise.

The story follows Katniss Everdeen, a teenage girl living in a crapsack world who volunteers for the eponymous Hunger Games when her sister’s name is drawn from the lottery. Each year a boy and girl from each district must journey to the ruling Captial to participate in the sadistic Games, a fight to the death to remind the Districts of the Capital’s power, and of the failed rebellion over seventy years ago.

Not only is the adaptation excellent, the film itself is incredible. The quality shown and the effort put in are truly surpassing, and as both a reader and movie lover, that just makes me so happy. The transformation of the story from page to screen is one of the best I have seen, ever. The film’s more faithful than most of the Harry Potter movies to the source material, in capturing the feeling of the book, the characters, and the plot. It is absolutely beautiful to behold. What’s even better is that the book works so well in a visual medium, and as an observer you can take in so much more. Of course a few minor things were changed, as they must be, but any changes made are small, logical, and still keep to the essence of the book. One change of particular note is that the scope of the movie is broadened a touch more than in the book, and it is a very wise decision. In the book Katniss narrates for us, and because she understands the world she lives in and can make explanatory notes in passing, there is no need to show much outside of what’s happening to her. That’s quite a bit harder (if not impossible) to do in a film, so we end up with a few scenes of Haymitch acting on Katniss and Peeta’s behalf, the gamemakers deciding on new challenges, and scenes from outside the Capital to show the impact of the Games on Panem. There’s also commentary from the hosts with several “as you know” moments. These scenes are integrated seamlessly into the action and do a lot for the reader’s comprehension. And as far as comprehensibility goes if you haven’t read the book, you should be able to understand and enjoy the film with no trouble. Of course some things will resonate a lot more if you have read the book, such as the three fingers gesture and characterization, particularly of minor characters like Rue, Cato, and Foxface. The world will also make more sense, although a film viewer is less likely to be concerned about worldbuilding than a reader. Katniss and Peeta’s relationship receives less attention as well, in part because there’s simply not enough time to develop it fully. Unfortunately, this does result in the relationship being slightly less believable and not nearly as major a part of the plot, but your mileage may vary on whether or not this is a good thing.

A large part of why this story works so well as a film is that all of the characters are extraordinarily well cast. There are several famous faces that don’t draw attention to themselves and fit their parts well – the best example would be Donald Sutherland as President Snow, who gives off that subtle repulsion beneath a genteel exterior that the character needs to work. Effie and Haymitch are also wonderful, and provide some of the movie’s funny moments. And now I must take a moment to fangirl about Jennifer Lawrence, because this movie would not be what it is at all without her. In the book, Katniss is strong, aloof, and lethal, but at times it’s a bit hard to relate to her because not a whole lot truly gets to her. That is not a problem here. Jennifer Lawrence is an immensely talented actress, and her face says what words can’t, humanizing Katniss a little more without sacrificing any of her toughness. The death of a specific ally and Katniss’ reaction especially proves this, and the acting was glorious to behold.

Part of what turns some people off about this series (my mother comes to mind) is the amount of violence involved in the story. Because of the premise, filmmakers obviously can’t get rid of it – but they can, and did, portray it with taste. Graphic violence is used sparingly, so there’s enough to leave an impact and a deep impression about the sort of world these people live in, but it’s not gratuitous (especially considering the subject matter/premise). Not that that means you should be taking your ten-year-old to see this movie, but still, the depiction was a pleasant surprise.

On a technical note, the production design, cinematography, and use of sound are all done exceedingly well. The costumes and makeup look exactly as I imagined they would, and the contrast between the aesthetic of the Districts and the Capital only underlines how dystopic this world is. The camera work is quite interesting, and contributes a lot to capturing the feeling of the movie. Tons of close-ups keep the focus narrow and internal, while the “shaky cam” technique (never one of my personal favorites) gives the audience a sense of utter confusion and chaos of the Games (and is also not used ubiquitously, a definite plus). The use of silence is fantastic, and provides isolation and impact. It also makes you pay attention, because at times scores can distance us from the characters and actions. Not to say that the score in this film isn’t used well, because it is, although it doesn’t particularly stand out either.

Overall, The Hunger Games is a beautifully made film, which still has some of the flaws of the original (like serious holes in worldbuilding). Most of these flaws, though, can be overlooked or at least aren’t as important in a movie. The story’s also an interesting treatise on reality television and manipulated (and manipulative) it is, although that’s hardly the point. Moreover, the film is well-paced – the action doesn’t move at breakneck speed, but nor does it ever really drag. There is also, as pointed out by my boyfriend, a subtle Lady Macbeth reference if you’re the type of person who enjoys those things.

Definitely worth your money to see it in the theater, or at least on Netflix.

A Woman Like That

Originally, I had a marvelous plan to do a post about feminism for Valentine’s Day. Clearly that didn’t happen, but for once I do not regret it. That Thursday, I had to attend a film for my “Thinking About Art” class. It was entitled “A Woman Like That” and had been screened at the Denver Art Museum the night before. We were lucky because the director, Ellen Weissbrod, was there to present her film, and there was a question and answer session and reception following the film. First, let me say that if you are so fortunate as to get the chance to see this film, you definitely should. The director’s distributing it herself, so you might not, but if you do you will not regret going.

The film is a documentary, and follows Weissbrod’s journey to tell the story of Artemisia Gentileschi, and also tells of the inspiration that Weissbrod takes from her. Who is Artemisia Gentileschi? It’s a shame so few people know the answer to that question. I didn’t, before I watched the film. Artemisia was a female Renaissance-Baroque painter of extraordinary talent, great notoriety during her time, and relatively little fame today. She had passion and determination, and I wish I had learned about her sooner. Her work is scarce and mostly lost, but what survives is beautiful. There is no doubt that she was just as good as her male contemporaries, although she suffered extreme discrimination because she was a woman trying to make a living at a man’s profession. However, Artemisia never gave up doing what she loved because of adversity; painting was her life and her heritage, and so she stayed the course and carved out a place in history.

While we learn Artemisia’s story, we follow the people she has touched and inspired. There’s a wealth of people who speak about the artist, from scholars and historians to high school students and regular people off the street. Owners of her work and Italian museum employees also make appearances, and it’s fascinating to hear what the world takes away from Artemisia. I wish a few more men had given their opinions in the film; they seemed quite underrepresented. As a film, “A Woman Like That” isn’t too bad. The beginning and the end are rather slow, but the middle is absolutely excellent. Weissbrod’s story of herself is tedious at times, and does not exactly explore new territory in terms of the Who Am I? narrative, but it’s a worthy addition and certainly helps to bring Artemisia out of the past. One of my favorite parts of the film was the groups of random women who had never met acting out scenes that Artemisia painted. Of particular note is the comparison between Caravaggio’s depiction of Judith slaying Holofernes (top) and Artemisia’s (bottom); acting out the scenes reveal how much more sense Artemisia’s painting makes.

I suppose what I take away from the film, Valentine’s Day, and the original post I had planned is that feminism is still very much necessary and important, and that it always has been. What feminist women are striving toward is to be like Artemisia – to have the right to do what we love, and by doing so contribute to the destruction of social barriers that keep women from being equal to men. Artemisia is a person who did that, and while she may not be especially famous or important in the grand scheme of art and history, she is invaluable as an inspiration to people of all stripes. Shouldn’t we all try to be women like that?

Never Let Me Go Review

4.5 stars
It’s difficult to articulate exactly what this book is to me, or how well-written it is. On the surface it’s a very simple story, and the plot is not exactly complicated. The best way to see is to read it for yourself. Perhaps its highest recommendation is that those snobs at CollegeBoard actually allow you to use this book for the open essay question, and that is almost a miracle. (And a rant for another day.)

Reading Never Let Me Go is similar to going to the optometrist. You go in and sit in the chair, and the eye doctor moves this enormous cold contraption in front of you and covers your eyes. At first you can’t see anything, and then there’s a click and a very blurred image of light. The doctor keeps clicking, switching lenses until he gets to where your eyes were the last time you visited, and that blurry image gets clearer and clearer until there it is, you see whatever’s in front of you. For those who have never had that particular experience, this book is also like a beautiful old masters Renaissance portrait. There is the painted person before you, but it’s not just them. There are layers upon layers upon layers of oil paint that color the person, until they look golden and warm and real like your roommate next to you. Certainly the person in the portrait would be the same person without the layers, but the layers are what really make the painting art. They color your interpretation of the person so that it’s not just some random person on the canvas, it’s that person beyond a doubt.

The point that I’m attempting to make is that Never Let Me Go is a wonderful book that you have to appreciate the depth of. No, the plot is not complex, but that’s not the point. This is a character book. An event or conversation will be set up, and then Ishiguro will take you back and relate several other stories that happened before. When you get back to the original event and read it, you have a different understanding, and you can see all the factors that went into how the event unfolded. It’s a beautiful way to write a book.

Furthermore, while I would not call this book a page turner, it nags you. There’s something you don’t get. You sort of figure it out, and you’re fed little tidbits along the way. As one Guardian puts it to the Hailsham students “You’re told and not told.” And so you keep reading. At the end, what you think is confirmed. However, it’s not the confirmation you expect; it’s exactly what you thought but there’s a sickening thud because it came at you in a very unexpected way. I would have liked to see a bit more of the dystopian element that’s hinted at, but at the same time this would be a very different book if that were there.

I write all this about the experience of reading Never Let Me Go because I think the experience is half of what makes this book so good. It’s the way it’s written and the way you figure things out that make what is a relatively ordinary story transcend mediocrity and teach you things that you always knew but never realized about people. And that, too, is part of what makes this book so good: the people. The characters are wonderfully vivid and hopelessly flawed, and you love them and hate them because you know them. Ruth is a fantastic example of this: she is authoritative, almost ethereal at times, selfish, vain, creative, funny, but always Kathy’s friend.

Finally, one quick note about Ken Ishiguro’s writing. It’s lovely. It’s beautiful and evocative and clear, like reading nostalgic poetry. That’s the other part of what makes the book so good, because the author can transform the most normal scenes into the most gorgeous prose.

Truly, it’s impossible to get a sense of this book from a review, and you should really just read it for yourself.

This review may also be found here on Goodreads.

New Year's Resolution

I am a terrible, negligent, lazy blogger. I know this. You know this. I haven’t posted in more than six months. It’s pathetic. I could tell you that I was swallowed by college, that I actually turned into a semi-decent student, or any number of other excuses. The truth is, I simply haven’t prioritized this blog like I should have, and that is a problem.

However, I have a solution! I’ve made a (very belated) new year’s resolution. Normally I don’t believe in these things. I think they’re silly and mostly unrealistic, and that if you’re serious about something then you should start it when you get the idea. Don’t make excuses by waiting for the calendar. But this year, I actually had a good idea: I should make my blog a priority and try to post twice a month, every month. Once a week is never going to happen, and once a month doesn’t make much of a change. Of course, it’s February now and I’m already two posts behind, so I’m going to try to squeeze January into this month’s quota. We’ll see how that works out.

If I may make an excuse, I do think that part of my problem with posting is that I’m a perfectionist and have too many quality standards for myself. I get half a post written and it’s a page long, and then…I don’t finish it. Or I get an idea and do lots of research but…I want the post to be special and really good, and long too. From now on, I’m going to try to post more frequently even if that means what I write is slightly sillier and less informational…and mostly shorter.

If you’re wondering, I do make a lot of plans for posts. I’ve been meaning to write a political one about SOPA and ACTA since October, and even though the results are mostly in I probably still will. I may write more about costuming/sewing, or events I go to, and there will probably be a lot more reviews. As long as I’m putting things up.

There’s not much else to say, except, um, Happy New Year?

The End of an Era

As I await Deathly Hallows Part II....

Speaking from the line at Cinemark, less than 6 hours from the Deathly Hallows release, I can say that it is definitely worth it to come well in advance and camp out. There is such an immense feeling of camaraderie and love, anticipation thrumming like lightning beneath every conversation and languid fanning hand. I’ve seen every character get some love in the costume department – among them Quirrel, Flitwick, the Grey Lady, the Golden Snitch, and even a mandrake. I’ve met some fantastic people, including yet another person with my same name. I’m roasting alive in my Hogwarts uniform, but it’s utterly worth it.

At less than 2 hours to go, I’ve actually been seated in the theater itself – the place where my childhood will well and truly end. I can’t tell if I’m excited or devastated for this final movie, because it means that Harry Potter really will come to an end. There are no more books (as far as we know), and there are no more movies. This is it. It’s been a good run.

Harry Potter has defined my life in ways that it is impossible to describe. I met my oldest friend through our mutual love of it, experienced fandom for the first time, learned what it was to be among my own kind, fellow obsessees that revere this saga to a religious level.

More than that, though, Harry Potter changed the world. How many billionaire authors are there, where their life story is nearly as famous as their books? What series inspired millions of children to shut off the television and pick up a book? What series inspired millions of parents to shut off the television and pick up a book? Which books were so popular, the New York Times had to create a separate children’s list so that they could stop dominating the main one?

And yet, beyond changing aspects of the real world, there’s the story to consider. Many of the plot devices (the Chosen One, Gotta Catch ‘Em All keys to defeating evil, a wise old mentor) we’ve head before, but not quite in this way. They’re put together into a masterpiece of a puzzle, filled with real, honest-to-goodness characters and jut plain great writing. Hermione was an icon to my friends and I as children, and continues to be a role model for us. She is smart, not necessarily pretty, able to have a platonic friendship with a friend who’s a boy, emotional, obnoxious, terribly afraid and strong despite it, badass, and overall real. It’s rare for me to see such a well-written and inspiring character. It’s rarer still for her to be as recognized as she is. And how about Dumbledore? He began as an eccentric, brilliant, wise wizard that was an authority figure and to Harry, and yet someone who understood him deeply. He became a very deep friend, someone to trust in though perhaps he didn’t tell one everything, and a mentor. Come the fifth book, Albus Dumbledore is made very sharply human, for all his wondrous abilities. Come the sixth book, he is mortal. And come the seventh, he is a tragically flawed, troubled youth that managed to turn out well despite everything, to be repulsive and yet wonderful, and again, overall, real. Snape, McGonagall, Ron, Ollivander, Dobby, Voldemort himself...the list goes on.

It’s beautiful.

There is little to compare to this moment for me. It is more momentous than my high school graduation, for this feels like a more solid closing of a phase of my life. It is more definable and more important. High school taught me information, but Harry Potter gave me an education.

Less than ten minutes now….I hardly know what to do, or think. I expect to be blown away. I expect to be lost for a time, and deeply saddened by the end.

Our time of discovery in this area has come to an end.

Farewell, Harry Potter. May you live in peace.

On Funerals and Death

"How we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life, wouldn't you say?"
Captain Kirk

July is a month of endings for me this year – today, or yesterday now, the space shuttle lifted off for the last time. In a little less than a week, Harry Potter will fully come to a close with the release of Deathly Hallows: Part II. This morning, I will lose one of the best friends I have ever had.

Many people have asked me about my strange love for funerals. They think it is unnatural, or weird, or a trait of a dark personality. Needless to say, I think rather differently. I love funerals because they are a gathering to celebrate a life, lived well or poorly, significant or ridiculous. They bring people together. It is not about being selfish, like the dividing of the estate sometimes is, it’s about honoring someone and having compassion for their spirit and for the ones they left behind.

Last summer, I attended a funeral for someone I barely knew and had a marvelous time. She had lived to the great age of ninety-five, and led quite a life. It was a bit sad to say goodbye, but I got to meet relatives that I’d only heard stories about, or never heard of at all. I made a lasting friend. I learned quite a bit more about my family history and its ties to the state of Nebraska. I learned much more about that lady than I had known before, and watched the art form that is a funeral. It was a very fulfilling experience, to say the least.

In a few hours I’ll face a much quieter affair, and one infinitely more personal. I’m already mourning for the one I’ll lose, but I am so glad I got the chance to be with him, and I know that we have had a good life together. Life will go on, but I will honor the dead by remembering. Because remembrance – that’s special. I wish that people were allowed to view their own funerals, because I often find that they are a vindication of everything good about that person, even if it was only a grain of sand in a sea of hurt and despair. Everyone deserves to know that they were special in some way, left some sort of imprint on the world. And then, there’s peace. Regardless of what you believe as far as the afterlife goes, there does seem to be some sort of ultimate peace. Whether it be heaven or just eternal slumber, at some point death must come as a relief from the burdens and pains of this world.

Lately, I’ve been reading a couple of books that deal with the idea of heaven. One was (apparently) a true story, and the other simply an imagining of what it might be like. It gives me hope that the one I lose will end up there and be cared for as he deserves, but more importantly, that he will be peaceful. It gives me hope that death is not all bad, and that one day I might see him again. It’s strange that he leaves me now, right as I’m about to embark on a new chapter of my life, but perhaps he knew that his part was done, that he had taught me all he could. And it’s small comfort to think of him as going to a better place, when I really want him to stay. But watching and waiting for death, like funerals, is not about me. It’s about doing the right thing for once, and giving a proper sendoff. Life marches on, but pausing in the wake of death is so necessary, and so worth it, to give us a further appreciation for our lives.

The funeral episode of Glee – that was beautiful, and a perfect example of why I do, truly, love funerals, and why dealing with death in a graceful way is so important. So here’s to death, the great equalizer. And here’s to life well lived.