Wednesday, 26 June 2019

Review: The Clockmaker's Daughter (novel)

I read this novel during lunch breaks at work for about five weeks. This week I finally finished it, so now I can review it.


The Clockmaker's Daughter is a 2018 novel by Kate Morton, an author I'd never heard of before this book. So far it hasn't been adapted. (There's a musical of the same name, but that has nothing to do with the book.)

It has several different narrators, all connected to the same house, each narrating from a different point in history: "Birdie", the title character, a ghost haunting Birchwood Manor; Elodie, a modern girl trying to solve a mystery about the manor; Ada, a schoolgirl in the late 1800s who almost drowns at the manor; Juliet, Elodie's great-grandmother, who stays at the manor with her children during World War II; and Lucy, who knew Birdie when she was alive. There are also a Dickensian amount of other characters, many of whom are connected to each other or some of the narrators without ever meeting them.

At first I started to read this book for three reasons: it was there, the cover was pretty, and I was bored. The first chapter or so didn't really interest me. I was considering giving it up when I got to the first part narrated by Birdie, the only first-person narrator in the book. At once I was hooked. The writing was excellent and so beautiful, the character was mysterious and had such a unique outlook on the world, and I wanted to learn more about her. So I read on.

Sometimes it was hard going. The novel suffers from one major flaw: too many narrators, and no clear distinction between their point of view and someone else's. Every time I started a new section I was left wondering, who's talking now? until I got used to their POV. Worse, each narrator comes with a different cast of characters surrounding them. It's something like Charles Dickens did in Bleak House: many characters, multiple narrators, and most of them only appear in one character's part of the story. Unlike in Bleak House, the characters aren't immediately distinctive and many of them blend together. I can't remember all their names.

The story's weakest part is undoubtedly its ending. There are simply too many loose threads left hanging. What was all that about Elodie's mother and the violinist? What about Elodie's engagement and Jack's family? What happened to the jewel? And most importantly, why did Lucy leave Birdie trapped in the hide-away? She knew she was there, she knew she had no way of getting out, but she left her to starve or suffocate there and only came back twenty years later! What the hell?

Whatever else can be said of the novel, at least the prose itself is good, and often beautifully poetic. My favourite scene in the book is the part where Tip says he wasn't afraid in the darkness because he could see all the tiny specks of light. The story of the Eldritch Children sounds like a real fairy tale, and the light in the window and Edward's late-night pursuit by something (that may or may not be a figment of his imagination) are all the more eerie because they aren't explained. And in spite of the unresolved subplots, the epilogue is both bittersweet and haunting.

Overall this novel has its flaws. I skipped some parts of it, and kept going back to others. But it also has its good moments.

Is it available online?: I don't think so.

Rating: 5/10.

Sunday, 23 June 2019

Review: The Mikado (English National Opera, 2015)

Well. This was not what I was expecting from a performance of The Mikado.

That's got to be the blandest title-card I've ever seen. Could no one be bothered to design something better? Something that didn't look like a business's logo?

The Mikado is an operetta by Gilbert and Sullivan, first performed in 1885. It's been staged many times and translated into many languages.

Opera isn't something I watch a lot of, so I didn't recognise any of the actors.

As you might have guessed from the title, it's set in Japan. A very fictionalised Japan, that bears no resemblance to the real country; it's actually a satire of England but given an exotic setting. This particular version apparently missed that fact and just set it in England... without changing any of the references to Japan πŸ˜–

Picture this, if you will. You've clicked on a video of The Mikado. The music plays, the curtain rises... and this is what meets your eyes:


If you're anything like me your response is, "There must be some mistake! This can't be the right video!"

The video helpfully provides subtitles/lyrics to the songs. (Unfortunately they can't be turned off, and they don't always match what's being sung.) So if you're too amazed by this sight to process what the people pictured above are saying, the subtitles translate for you. "If you want to know who we are" (Yes, I do actually!) "We are gentlemen of Japan." (Sure you are. And I'm the Queen of Sheba.)

I was so bewildered by this spectacle that I had to pause the video and search the comments for some explanation. Turns out, at some point in the past the English National Opera had the genius idea to set The Mikado in 1930s England. Whaaaaaat. This is a revival of that version. Once wasn't enough? They had to revive it?

Well, at least I knew I wasn't watching the wrong video. I pressed play, and steeled myself for a painful two hours. This was not what I had in mind when I decided to watch a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta.

The weirdness gets even worse when Nanki-Poo arrives. To start with, he looks like a Jeeves and Wooster character who was standing next to a make-up shop when it exploded.

Someone call Madame Tussauds. One of their waxworks is missing.

Everyone's make-up is utterly terrible here. It can't be stage make-up; I've seen other stage shows that don't make their actors look like walking mannequins.

After a while the insanity of the staging almost faded into the background and I managed to focus on the plot. I even found plenty of intentionally funny things to laugh at. Every word Pooh-Ba says had me in stitches πŸ˜† ("Another insult, and I think a light one" is a line I really want to use in real life some day πŸ˜„) The trouble is, some new absurdity forces its way on stage with every scene change, and some are harder to ignore than others. For some reason the thing that especially drives me round the bend is "Lord Hey Executioner". Excuse me! That is not how you pronounce "High"! πŸ˜’ If that was an attempt at a joke, it fell flat.

Very few of the characters made any impression on me. I noticed them mostly for how bizarre they looked. Katisha's hat might not take the cake, but it certainly takes a good few slices. And I spent at least five minutes trying to decide if the Mikado is wearing a barrel.

Katisha's hat, the very latest fashion on Mars. Oh, and Katisha herself is there too.

There are so many strange things in this screencap that I don't know where to start. The guy on the left who's stolen Stan Laurel's hat? The servants wearing small buckets on their heads? The Mikado who's almost indistinguishable from a tub of lard? And last but by no means least, that... circular... object... in the foreground? Words fail.

As ridiculous as this production is, at least the music and singing are consistently good. Alas, this wasn't enough to make me feel any interest in the characters or the plot. I'd much rather watch a more traditional production of The Mikado, one which doesn't look like the entire production team were drunk.

Is it available online?: Yes, on YouTube, if for some reason you want to watch it.

Rating: 2/10.

Wednesday, 19 June 2019

Review: Persuasion (novel)

It's taken me ages to finish this novel; I started it in February(!) and only finished it yesterday. I'm reviewing it today before something else comes along and distracts me.


Persuasion is Jane Austen's last novel, published posthumously in 1817. It's been adapted into four miniseries, a musical, several stage versions, and a radio drama.

Unlike most of Miss Austen's novels, there's very little comedy in this book. Yes, she still breaks out the sarcasm on occasion; for instance when describing Sir Walter. But it's not as dryly satirical as Pride and Prejudice, and the characters aren't quite as caricature-ish as in Northanger Abbey.

Years ago Anne Elliot refused Captain Wentworth's proposal. Now he's returned to the neighbourhood, and there's no way for Anne to avoid meeting him. She's sure he's lost interest in her and is courting another woman. Meanwhile, along comes the apparently-honourable Mr. Elliot, Anne's distant cousin, who wants to marry her but who she doesn't like.

Some characters make you want to give them a hug and tell them everything will be all right. Anne is one of those characters. I feel so sorry for her for most of the book, and there were many moments when I wanted to reach into the page and box the ears of her stupid, selfish family. When it looked like Captain Wentworth didn't love her anymore I wanted to yell at him. But thankfully it turns out all right in the end πŸ˜„

It wouldn't be a Jane Austen novel without a slimy scumbag to despise, and Mr. Elliot is right up there with Wickham and Willoughby. The way he treated his friend makes my blood boil 😠 On the slightly less slimy but still disgusting side there's Sir Walter and Elizabeth, who practically ignore Anne's existence. Unfortunately none of them get any true punishment for their behaviour. But the ending is happy enough that I can almost overlook this.

This is definitely one of Jane Austen's best novels. I enjoyed reading it, even though it took me so long πŸ˜„

Is it available online?: Yes, on Gutenberg.

Rating: 10/10.

Sunday, 16 June 2019

Review: Phantom (Wichita, 1993)

No, this isn't a review of the Arthur Lloyd Webber musical. This review's of the Maury Yeston/Arthur Kopit musical, also based on the novel The Phantom of the Opera.


This musical was actually written before Lloyd Webber's version, but the first production was in 1991. Since then it's been performed many times, including by the Takarazuka Revue. It was the basis for the 1990 miniseries The Phantom of the Opera. (Yes, the series based on it was shown before the musical was performed. It's confusing.)

Unfortunately, the video quality of this version is very poor, so taking screenshots is a waste of time. The sound quality is also poor; there's a constant droning noise in the background that makes watching it a trial.

Christine in this version is selling flowers when Count Philippe (the musical's equivalent of Raoul; no idea why they gave him the name of Raoul's brother and changed his title πŸ˜‘) hears her sing and tells her to go the Paris Opera to get singing lessons. At the same time, the Opera House has changed managers: Alain (who isn't in any other version, as far as I can tell) and Carlotta. Erik is not amused. He's even less amused by Carlotta's singing. If you thought Carlotta's singing in the other musical is ear-splitting, wait until you hear this one.

Carlotta gives Christine a job sorting out costumes. Erik hears her singing and offers to give her lessons. I'm sure you can already see where this is going. It ends... badly. The ending is simultaneously better and worse than the other musical's. (Figuring out how to differentiate between two shows with similar titles and the same basic story is a pain!) ALW!Phantom never made me cry at the end. This one does.

Like the other musical, this version deviates pretty sharply from the novel's plot. Sometimes this is a good thing. Other times, not so much. Erik/the Phantom is much more human and less of a psychopathic murderer in this version. (Side note: I was amazed to realise this Phantom is played by the same guy who voiced Gaston in Beauty and the Beast!) But the sub-plot about his parents and his past isn't particularly interesting, and the story stops for about fifteen minutes for this sub-plot. I would really have preferred if they'd stayed closer to Erik's history as shown in the book.

Philippe is even less interesting than Raoul, and I usually skip his scenes. But Carlotta is so melodramatic and diva-ish that she's probably my favourite character. I'm afraid Christine doesn't make much impression on me until the final scene. Speaking of the final scene, it took me fifteen minutes to stop crying when I watched it 😭

If you're new to this musical, it would be better to watch a different version first. But if you know the story and don't mind the poor quality, this is definitely worth watching.

Is it available online?: Yes, on YouTube.

Rating: The musical gets 7/10, but the terrible quality of this video knocks the rating down to 5/10.

Wednesday, 12 June 2019

Review: Northanger Abbey (novel)

Pride and Prejudice is Jane Austen's best novel. Northanger Abbey is her funniest.


Northanger Abbey was the first novel Jane Austen finished, but it was published posthumously in 1817. It's been adapted into at least two films, a stage version, and an audio drama.

Catherine Morland, as the narrator helpfully tells us, is not a traditional heroine. She's also, quite frankly, an idiot. When she's invited to stay at the titular abbey, her love of Gothic novels leads to her imagining horrors around every corner. Naturally, hilarity ensues. The curious incident of the laundry bill is by far the funniest moment, but the case of the not-actually-sinister chest comes close πŸ˜†

Jane Austen spares no sarcasm in this book's narration. Even the most mundane moments are comedy gold thanks to her dry comments. And yet, despite the comedy and the fact this is a parody of the novels Catherine loves, all the characters are as real as in her other novels. Catherine is an idiot, but she's a likable idiot. The Thorpes and the General provoke much the same reaction as Wickham does. And Henry, though not my favourite Jane Austen hero, is certainly near the top of the list.

Unfortunately, this book has suffered from bad adaptations, with no truly good ones to make up for it. Whatever you do, don't watch the 2007 film. It'll give you the completely wrong impression of the book.

If you want a relatively short Austen novel, with plenty of humour, I'd definitely recommend this book!

Is it available online?: Yes, on Gutenberg.

Rating: 10/10.

Sunday, 9 June 2019

Review: The Crown (2016) Season 1

I've finished watching season one of The Crown, so here's the full review of it.


Actors I recognised:
Claire Foy (Amy in Little Dorrit 2008) as Queen Elizabeth
Matt Smith (the Eleventh Doctor in Doctor Who) as Prince Philip
Vanessa Kirby (Estella in Great Expectations 2012) as Princess Margaret
Eileen Atkins (Miss Deborah in Cranford) as Queen Mary
Victoria Hamilton (Mrs. Forster in Pride and Prejudice 1995) as the Queen Mother
Greg Wise (Sir Charles in Cranford and Willougby in Sense and Sensibility 1995) as Mountbatten
Jared Harris (Moriarty in Sherlock Holmes: Game of Shadows) as King George
Alex Jennings (Rev. Hutton in Cranford) as that oaf known as the Duke of Windsor
Harriet Walter (Fanny Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility 1995) as Clementine Churchill

The story starts before Queen Elizabeth's coronation, shortly before her father dies. Among other things, we get to see her marry Philip, become Queen, face several trials and crises, and deal with her Prime Minister's attempts to hide things from her.

Elizabeth

Philip

My opinion of the series is best summed up in one word: overrated. Or perhaps it would be better to describe it as "good idea, poor execution". The cinematography and music are beautiful. The costumes are... sometimes beautiful. The historic events are interesting. I'd never heard of the Great Smog before this series, and I'd no idea how much work it took to film the Queen's coronation. But the whole thing falls flat on its face in the most important part of any series: the characters.

No one wants to watch a series full of immature jerks with only one or two decent characters. But that's what this series subjects its viewers to. There are exactly three truly likable characters, two of whom die less than half-way through: Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mary, and King George. Everyone else is a spoilt brat.

The Duke of Windsor is the sort of "royal" whose mere existence puts the monarchy in danger. Princess Margaret is an overgrown child throwing tantrums. Instead of feeling any sympathy for her and Townsend, I wanted to box their ears. Prince Philip isn't far behind. I spent a lot of his scenes thinking "For goodness's sake, grow up!". The Queen Mother has all the personality of a brick wall. And Winston Churchill is an arrogant imbecile. Yes, let's just hide the fact two of the most important politicians in the country are seriously ill. What could possibly go wrong?

Almost as bad are the clumsy attempts at exposition. I find it very hard to believe Queen Elizabeth was as naΓ―ve as the series portrays her. Do the series' creators really expect us to believe she didn't know what a regnal name is? πŸ˜’

Overall this series is interesting for the history, but has many glaring shortcomings.

Is it available online?: I'm pretty sure it's on Netflix.

Rating: 5/10.

Wednesday, 5 June 2019

Review: Prince Caspian (novel)

Of the Chronicles of Narnia books, this is probably the only one I don't feel very strongly about, one way or the other.

I admit, I chose this cover only because it has Reepicheep on it 😊

Prince Caspian is both the fourth and the second installment of the Narnia series. It was published second, but it's chronologically fourth. It was first published in 1951. It's been adapted into a miniseries, a film, and a stage adaptation.

A year has passed since their first trip to Narnia when the Pevensies are called back to it. They find far longer has passed in Narnia. Several hundred years, in fact. Narnia is now ruled by the Telmarines. King Miraz tries to have his nephew Prince Caspian killed, but Caspian escapes and -- with the help of a group of Narnians and the Pevensies -- fights to overthrow his uncle.

The main problem with the book is that the circumstances leading up to Caspian's escape are narrated by Trumpkin after they happened. The Pevensies are left sitting in Cair Paravel while we get an extended flashback to why they're in Narnia, which confused me endlessly when I was trying to figure out what was happening when. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered trying to work out a timeline when Narnia's time is nothing like ours. It only leads to headaches.

I cheered when Lucy and Susan meet Aslan, but what happened afterwards left me scratching my head. What on earth was the point of characters from Greek Mythology suddenly appearing in Narnia? And why are they having a party when there's a literal battle raging a short distance away? πŸ˜•

Miraz's death is a real anti-climax. I expected him to die in battle with Peter. Instead he's betrayed and murdered by his own lords. But at least the walking trees coming to the rescue was awesome!

By far my favourite thing about this book is Reepicheep. In the words of film!Lucy (and at the risk of offending him), "Oh my gosh, he's so cute!" πŸ˜„ I don't even like mice, but Reepicheep is absolutely adorable. He's also the source of most of the book's humour, like when Dr. Cornelius wondered if he was a grasshopper πŸ˜†

The book has its flaws, but I enjoy it anyway. And it's certainly better than its film adaptation, which is... disappointing.

Is it available online?: I don't think so.

Rating: 7/10.

Sunday, 2 June 2019

Review: Emma (novel)

How can it be June already? Where does the time go? 🀷 It's hard to believe this blog will soon be a year old.

I found some exceedingly strange covers for this book when I was searching for one to put here. They included a drawing of an American Civil War-era dress (not at all out of place in the Regency England setting!), a portrait of Empress Elisabeth (why), and a picture of a modern girl (double why, with a side of what were they thinking). The mind boggles.

Emma was Jane Austen's fourth novel, first published in 1815. It's been adapted into at least two films, eight miniseries, four stage productions, and a manga, to say nothing of the countless other works it's inspired.

The main character is Emma Woodhouse, a would-be matchmaker, who is determined to arrange a suitable marriage for her friend Harriet. Only trouble is, she's hopeless at matchmaking, and tries to set Harriet up with a man who's in love with Emma herself. And that's only the start of Emma's errors in judgement.

Much like Pride and Prejudice, Emma is an often-humourous story about a woman who jumps to conclusions, finds her conclusions are badly wrong, and eventually ends up marrying someone she never expected to. But unlike Elizabeth Bennet, Emma Woodhouse is a vain, arrogant idiot until character development sets in. She refuses to let Harriet marry the man she likes because Emma wants her to marry someone grander, and because of it she gets Harriet's heart broken. She insults a woman who's undeniably silly but has always been very kind to her. But before the book ends, she finally realises how stupid and selfish she was and she tries to change for the better.

Before writing this book Jane Austen said she'd create a heroine no one but herself would like. At first I disliked Emma (the character, not the book) and thought she'd succeeded. But then I found I liked her more and more as the book continued. True, she isn't perfect, but she isn't as unlikable as I thought. Compared to some characters, like Mr. and Mrs. Elton, she's practically a saint. But I still don't like her breaking up Harriet and Mr. Martin 😠

Overall this isn't my favourite Jane Austen novel (because nothing can ever reach the perfection that is Pride and Prejudice), but it's enjoyable and amusing -- or perhaps I should say diverting instead πŸ˜„

Is it available online?: Yes, on Gutenberg.

Rating: 9/10.