The Adoration of Jenna Fox was released only about five weeks ago, but apparently it was optioned way back in February, and even has a director and a producer. Wow? I feel slow for not having read even the book while a movie's in the works!
[via Never Jam Today]
P.S. If you haven't read or watched J.K. Rowling's commencement address at Harvard, you really should.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Angry [rambly rant alert]
Heather's great post on Tuesday got me reflecting on the pressures our society puts on women and girls.
When it comes to women's bodies, our culture usually completely fails to recognize that there are different body types.
As examples of people who've achieved the ideal, it holds up celebrities who have unlimited access to makeup artists, personal trainers, and plastic surgeons, who by virtue of having made it in show business have generally been pre-selected to have that body type, and who are, in most of the images we see of them, airbrushed to an absurdly deceptive degree.
Most real girls are unable to achieve that image without hurting themselves.
And all the time there's this idea that the most valuable thing about a woman is her body!
Celebrity magazines are constantly gossiping about so-and-so's latest diet or plastic surgery, analyzing bikini pictures to see who's gained and lost weight. The way they carry on, it's like it's incontrovertible that a woman's chest is at least as important as anything that might be in her head.
A female star short of middle age can hardly be in a shot that doesn't call attention to her body - whereas men get to be completely covered even on the Sexiest Man Alive covers.
Do magazines for teenage guys tell them how to get ready for Speedo season?
Is it possible that society expect girls to be preoccupied with the way they look and their bodies because IT considers their looks and bodies to be the most important things about them?
Why do rules require professional female beach volleyball players to wear skimpy bikinis while male players get to wear trunks?
Why must a woman in an advertisement be scantily clad in order to sell bottled water?
Why are there so many fewer roles for "older" (meaning middle-aged or maybe even younger) actresses than for actors of the same age?
Why should a brilliant female scientist or rising corporate star in the news always be expected to be also glamorous?
There's SO MUCH in our society that is destructive and demeaning towards girls and women, so much about the standards it holds us up to that is wrong or unrealistic.
And yet it's myself I'm quickest to be angry at when I fall short of these expectations.
Something is wrong here.
When it comes to women's bodies, our culture usually completely fails to recognize that there are different body types.
As examples of people who've achieved the ideal, it holds up celebrities who have unlimited access to makeup artists, personal trainers, and plastic surgeons, who by virtue of having made it in show business have generally been pre-selected to have that body type, and who are, in most of the images we see of them, airbrushed to an absurdly deceptive degree.
Most real girls are unable to achieve that image without hurting themselves.
And all the time there's this idea that the most valuable thing about a woman is her body!
Celebrity magazines are constantly gossiping about so-and-so's latest diet or plastic surgery, analyzing bikini pictures to see who's gained and lost weight. The way they carry on, it's like it's incontrovertible that a woman's chest is at least as important as anything that might be in her head.
A female star short of middle age can hardly be in a shot that doesn't call attention to her body - whereas men get to be completely covered even on the Sexiest Man Alive covers.
Do magazines for teenage guys tell them how to get ready for Speedo season?
Is it possible that society expect girls to be preoccupied with the way they look and their bodies because IT considers their looks and bodies to be the most important things about them?
Why do rules require professional female beach volleyball players to wear skimpy bikinis while male players get to wear trunks?
Why must a woman in an advertisement be scantily clad in order to sell bottled water?
Why are there so many fewer roles for "older" (meaning middle-aged or maybe even younger) actresses than for actors of the same age?
Why should a brilliant female scientist or rising corporate star in the news always be expected to be also glamorous?
There's SO MUCH in our society that is destructive and demeaning towards girls and women, so much about the standards it holds us up to that is wrong or unrealistic.
And yet it's myself I'm quickest to be angry at when I fall short of these expectations.
Something is wrong here.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Haha.
 |
96
As a 1930s husband, I am
Very Superior |
 |
28
As a 1930s wife, I am
Poor |
It's a little odd to take, because you have to imagine what you would do and how you would be if you were married - and then if you were not only married, but of the opposite gender too - but if you take it, tell me how you are! (I failed the wife test when I took it earlier today, so if you too fail - I salute you!)
[via Shaken & Stirred]
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
A (ranty) word about the Sisters Grimm series, or, Why I Could Not Read Past The Fourth Book
Ranting is not usually my thing, but as a reader of the series, I want to make myself heard on this subject. And rants are just so darn fashionable, you know? All the other bloggers are doing it, Mom...
Advisory: If the Sisters Grimm books hold a special place in your heart and you cannot bear to read a word against them, please refrain from reading further in order to spare our relationship any damage, and yourself some unpleasant emotions.
The quality of the writing in these books has always annoyed me. It made a great deal of sense to me the first time I read that the author previously worked in children's television, because the writing, rather than making the story breathe, reads exactly like some producer describing the great action sequence or wonderful "eew"-inducing humor he has planned for a next episode. As for the slapstick action and humor and the dialogue, they are indistinguishable from the tripe that fills the most abominable (yet, tragically, commercially successful) children's movies or shows.
So why did I masochistally persevere through four of these books? First of all, the level of discomfort required to make me quit a book that I've started has been falling over the past year, and is much lower now than when I started the series. Secondly, rather poorly written children's books have at times (generally when schoolwork means the rest of my reading requires close attention and careful thought) been, in a strange and complex way, a comfort food item for me, even when I don't actually enjoy reading the book. It makes no sense, but to quote a fellow LRRHer, "I already know I'm crazy."
But when I read the word talons applied to the Big Bad Wolf's claws in the first few pages of the fifth book, it was the last straw for my poor tormented inner reader. All right, so the editor (whom the author so profusely thanks in his acknowledgements) appears to have neglected the potential of the series's premise and let it appear on bookshelves in its sad present form. They're New York Times bestsellers, so I guess the hands-off approach worked and I kind of understand the "don't mess with success" tactic. But not even the copy editor cares enough to curb Michael Buckley's verbal sloppiness and prevent him running amok with his animal appendage terms? And so, friends, I cast that charmingly designed little hardback away from me and said, "Never again!"
Advisory: If the Sisters Grimm books hold a special place in your heart and you cannot bear to read a word against them, please refrain from reading further in order to spare our relationship any damage, and yourself some unpleasant emotions.
The quality of the writing in these books has always annoyed me. It made a great deal of sense to me the first time I read that the author previously worked in children's television, because the writing, rather than making the story breathe, reads exactly like some producer describing the great action sequence or wonderful "eew"-inducing humor he has planned for a next episode. As for the slapstick action and humor and the dialogue, they are indistinguishable from the tripe that fills the most abominable (yet, tragically, commercially successful) children's movies or shows.
So why did I masochistally persevere through four of these books? First of all, the level of discomfort required to make me quit a book that I've started has been falling over the past year, and is much lower now than when I started the series. Secondly, rather poorly written children's books have at times (generally when schoolwork means the rest of my reading requires close attention and careful thought) been, in a strange and complex way, a comfort food item for me, even when I don't actually enjoy reading the book. It makes no sense, but to quote a fellow LRRHer, "I already know I'm crazy."
But when I read the word talons applied to the Big Bad Wolf's claws in the first few pages of the fifth book, it was the last straw for my poor tormented inner reader. All right, so the editor (whom the author so profusely thanks in his acknowledgements) appears to have neglected the potential of the series's premise and let it appear on bookshelves in its sad present form. They're New York Times bestsellers, so I guess the hands-off approach worked and I kind of understand the "don't mess with success" tactic. But not even the copy editor cares enough to curb Michael Buckley's verbal sloppiness and prevent him running amok with his animal appendage terms? And so, friends, I cast that charmingly designed little hardback away from me and said, "Never again!"
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