The King's Speech - the power of friends

We loved The King's Speech, Andrew, Elizabeth and I. It was entertaining. It was clever. My favourite scene, for those of you who have seen it, was the one where the King and Queen have gone to Lionel's house so that Bertie can continue his training. The Queen is sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea when Lionel's wife arrives home early. Can you imagine arriving home to see the Queen sitting at your kitchen table? That was priceless.

I was impressed by two sets of friendships for 2 different reasons. Helena Bonham Carter's Queen was supportive but not pushy. She found a solution for her husband and then sat back to see if he would take it or not. She was always there in the background holding him up, encouraging or commiserating, depending on what he needed at the time. And she was always quick with a quip. The woman was clever. Lionel's wife was painted in the same light. She accepted, didn't question, just loved. Both were beautiful portraits of good marriages.

Lionel was the kind of friend to Bertie that we all need - one to push us when we need it, support us when we need it, one to tell us the truth whether we want to hear it or not, one who sees the best in us, and helps us become our best 'us'. One who's always good for a laugh. One who doesn't doubt even when we do. Faithful. Loyal. One who knows what we need and provides it.

This is a movie about the importance of friendship. It's about triumphing over personal challenges and rising to the occasion when required, and how the support of one's friends make it possible. We all need those kinds of friend.

Black Swan - Giving your life for what you love

This afternoon, I went to see Black Swan as part of the 34th Gothenburg International Film Festival. They call it GIFF (like TIFF in T.O.). This film was at a theatre called Draken which is right beside the place where Elizabeth dances. We thought it was an old abandoned space because we've never seen it with the interior lights on. Not so! The theatre itself is a magnificent example of minimalist Scandanavian design with wood panelling that curves at the ceiling to mimic the hull of a ship. Draken's motif is a ship, so I guess that's why. In Sweden, when you go to the movies, the seats are pre-selected like at a hockey game. For the film festival, they aren't - you sit where you like. For the latecomers, it's a bit of a teamsport, finding them an empty seat. A woman with a microphone asks the seated audience to point out empty seats for those without, who then dutifully amble over to fill them. One is supposed to say "Ursekta, men kan jag kommer förbi?" which means 'excuse me can I walk across in front of you', but in what I have come to expect as standard Swedish style, no one says anything - they just go.

I chose to go to this movie because of the hype. I knew it was about ballet and that Natalie Portman was in it and that it was a psychological thriller, but that was about it. I had never seen the Swan Lake ballet. Early on, it is explained that the role of the Swan Queen in Swan Lake requires the ballerina to dance 2 separate characters - the pure or white swan, and the black swan. The ballet itself is about a girl who turns into a swan (nice little metaphor there), falls in love, has her love stolen by the black swan, then ends her own life when she can't have the one she loves.

Initially, I didn't like the camera work because it was very bouncy like Blair Witch. When the camera was following behind the Nina character as she walked, the camera bounced like it was walking too and that made me dizzy. Effective camera work I guess because the entire film is about being off balance. Lots of interplay between black and white, good and evil, effectively echoed in Nina's clothing. At one point in her decent, she puts a black shirt over her white one, then covers it with a white sweater. Barbara Hershey is very effective as Nina's overly protective / possessive / controlling mother, a former dancer herself. I wondered if the dancer from San Francisco was brought in by Thomas the artistic director for the sole purpose of "helping" Nina let go of her control. I still haven't figured out how much of the film was real as in really happened to Nina, and how much she imagined.

Decent into madness? She gave her life for what she loved. Not a man, but the dance. Aren't we all like that to varying degrees, willing to give our all to something that makes us feel special, empowered, willing to live with the consequences no matter what they are?

Now how mad is that?

Tjolöholms slott

... or "a day in the country".

This is Tjolöholms slott. It belonged to a Scottish family, the Dicksons, who had it built as a holiday home. Construction was completed in 1904. The interiors are a combination of Tudor and Elizabethan style, so lots of dark wood, mixed with Art Nouveau touches. The house itself is situated on about 700 hectares of land, and the property also includes a workers' village and a large stone church. The house was a modern wonder, complete with central heating, the first electric vaccuum cleaner in Sweden, a parafin-heated hair dryer, state of the art bathrooms, a billiard room, smoking room, children's wing, and "king's bedroom", though no king ever slept in it. What is interesting is that no one other than direct descendants ever lived in it, and it sat vacant but furnished for 30 years, so what we saw today is what was actually there.

The woodwork throughout is magnificent. Mrs Dickson's boudoir is decorated with wooden carvings of the characters from a Midsummer Night's Dream. There are multiple staircases. Everywhere the carving is exquisite.

2 of the 3 bathrooms have sunken tubs, more like hot tubs than bath tubs. You walk down a few steps into the pool. They also have showers where the water hits you from everywhere - down from the top, up from the bottom, and all around your sides.

There's a flower-arranging room just off the 2nd floor landing. It has a large window to the outside and also a glass wall to the inside so that natural light can flow through to the dark interiors.

Andrew and I were in need of an outing. It had been a long time since we'd done a day trip. This 'castle' is about 30mins drive from Göteborg. We had a grand prowl around the grounds before the tour started. The tour was in Swedish, but I am at the point now that I understood almost all of it, so I translated bits for Andrew. The tourguide spoke perfect English and repeated the key points about each room for us as well. We also had a typed explanation for each room. Elizabeth stayed home to do homework, and as Peter is in Moscow at the moment, they both missed it today, but we will take them back once Spring is here. The gardens should be magnificent with everything in bloom.

The Other Hand - Part 2

I finished the book.

Pause.

It ended the way it had to, I think. Otherwise it would have been too 'happy families'. What is it about Africa that these horrors take place, yet the world looks the other way? I guess money always leads the way. Desperate times etc etc etc.

Lawrence - I loved him when he came to stay. That he followed his heart and disregarded the protocols of the game. I'm trying to decide if his selfishness makes me think less of him. The plane tickets don't redeem him - I think they were a reaction to the guilt of getting Little Bee caught and deported, rather than a genuine wish to help her cause. I don't like people who only do things because of guilt, or because they're trying to avoid guilt, or because "it's the right thing to do" but we both know it isn't what they really want. Lawrence lives for Lawrence. He goes through the motions to please everybody else, but at the end of the day, the kernel of his actions is for himself. Very honest.

Sarah - naive? Overly simplistic? I can see myself taking on a crusade in a similar fashion, fully believing it will all work out, then being horrified when it didn't.

Charlie - in my mind's eye I saw him with brown hair. The blonde curls were a complete surprise but served to illustrate how far apart their lives and realities were, his and Bee's. I don't like it when everything is sacrified for children, when common sense takes a back seat to the children. I don't like the idea that their innocence will somehow teach us all a perspective-changing lesson. It's too preachy. So did Batman's suit come off on the beach because not even Batman could save the day anymore? The allegory was a little too perfect, the multicoloured children all playing happily together, oblivious to the real Baddies of their world.

Little Bee - Such maturity for one so young. She's what, 14? 16? Such insight into humanity. Look at the way she read Lawrence from the get-go. I'm rather glad she didn't take the coward's way out and take her own life. There's a point in the book, at the park I think, where she stops talking about how she'd kill herself in that location. Does she actually start believing she can live? Is this the lesson for us all, to focus on the beautiful things in life: "Because if you cannot read the beautiful things that have happened in someone's life, why should you care about the sadness?" I think it's more that we should be mindful of the evils in life but not be consumed by them, find the beauty, appreciate the special moments, and live that way - in the beauty not the sadness.

And tea - "Tea is the taste of my land: it is bitter and warm, strong, and sharp with memory. It tastes of longing. It tastes of the distance between where you are and where you come from." Is tea the taste of longing? I didn't think so. Isn't it supposed to be comforting? From Little Bee's perspective, I can see why not.

The Other Hand - Part 1

I'm part of a book club which I figure means the following: read the book, then be prepared to discuss intellectually the parts that resonated with you.

If you have read "The Other Hand" by Chris Cleave, I'm about halfway through at this point. It was published under another title in North America. The main character is a Nigerian girl named Little Bee, and I have the sneaking suspicion Oprah would have chosen this as a book club book, if she even still does that anymore.

Early on, Little Bee talks about scars as being a good thing not a bad thing because to have a scar means that you healed. If you're dead, the wound didn't heal, ergo, no scar. I like this idea. Somewhere I saw a saying that said "a scar is a tattoo with a story", and I've held onto that idea. I like Little Bee's happy aspect to the scar, that it means you triumphed over something, that it didn't get you, that you beat the odds, that you lived to see another day.

Sarah says about Lawrence that "to stay in the game, you have to be compassionate. One has to acknowledge a certain right-to-life of the other". What strikes me is her suggestion that having an affair is a game with protocols. It's the acknowledgment that what they share isn't complete.

I don't think there's anything wrong with her not feeling sad or upset about her husband's death. I'm also not surprised about his depression. She showed more courage than he did, and I can't think of many people, male or female, who would have been able to live with the daily reminder that they were the lesser of the pair. Their marriage was long over. They were going through the motions. He was dead inside long before he actually died. She knew it was a mistake from the beginning. Cold-hearted bitch? Maybe. But it's a survival thing. His dying should be considered an opportunity for a new start, and that's where the real challenge will lie - not in seeing the scars as positive reminders, not in trying not to lean too heavily on Lawrence for support, but in rebuilding herself. By herself.

Those of you who have read this book - am I on the right wavelength? I guess the back half of the book will tell.

Reckoning

I took myself for a walk this morning. It was "warm" which means that it was near zero. No wind. Little bit of sun. Snow still sitting on the trees. Pretty.

I have 5 months left.

On my walk this morning, it occurred to me that with 1/2 my stay over, I need to start learning whatever I'm supposed to be learning through living here.

What am I supposed to learn from Sweden?

I'm here for a reason. I just haven't figured out what it is yet.

Paris day 5

Have you ever been to the Louvre? IT'S ENORMOUS! Through a fluke of timing, we managed to get to the entry line up a few minutes before opening, the plan being to head directly to the Mona Lisa (do not pass go, do not collect $200 meaning do not stop along the way, do not stop to appreciate all the other magnificent art en route to La Jaconde). The building itself is magnificent, so even if all you did was wander around gazing at the ceilings, you wouldn't be disappointed. We found her - the Mona Lisa. We also found the Venus de Milo, that portrait of Louis XIV that's in all the Canadian grade 7 history textbooks, and lots of lovely paintings (title of one of my favourites, mostly because of the title: Battle of Chastity over Love). This photo is from the section of the museum called the Napoleon III apartments. This is the salon, or living room. It looks over the Jardin des Tuileries which leads onto Place de la Concorde and up the Champs Elysees toward the Arc de Triomphe. We spent 3 hours oo-ing and ah-ing over Egyptian sphinxes and 5000 year old stone fish. What really amazed me, I guess, is that this stuff is so old, and that somebody had the foresight to hang onto it so that people like me could gawp at it 100s (1000s?) of years later.

For lunch, we found a very busy brasserie for our now standard croque monsieur lunch, then headed back to the hotel and off to the airport.

I asked everyone about their favourite moments or memories. Elizabeth's was her birthday dinner at the Eiffel Tower. Andrew liked climbing to the top of Notre Dame. My dad's was "reconnecting with Sacre Coeur". Mom's was being on the Champs Elysees at the moment when they switched on the Christmas lights on the trees. Peter's was the Eiffel Tower, although he kind of liked everything. My favourite day was Day 1, when we finally got to the hotel, and Andrew's reaction to my mom's appearance like of course she should be there, then wandering around to Notre Dame and the Arc and the Champs Elysees and our perfect dinner across the river from Notre Dame.

Au revoir, Paris, mais pas adieu.

Paris day 4

"only in Paris where the light is pink does that song make sense"

~ line from the movie Sabrina in reference to La Vie En Rose

Today is and has been Elizabeth's 16th birthday and the main reason why we came to Paris. She had been promised a trip to Paris for her 18th birthday (Andrew's trip is in negotiations between african safari and Australia), but given that we are in Sweden this year, we decided to do her 16th up right instead.

We set off this morning to take the train to Versailles. A couple of stops in, the lights and heating unit in our car started to smoke (guess the car didn't read the no smoking signs - ha!). A stop later, the conductor noticed and we sat on the platform watching the smoking traincar while nobody did anything about it. A few minutes later, some magic signal was passed between the french people who knew enough to climb back onboard and we followed suit and the train, smoking car et al, continued all the way to Versailles. In warmer, drier weather, we'd have wandered the gardens as well, but the goal for today was the interiors: King's apts, dauphin's apts, hall of mirrors. Andrew liked looking at the gardens through the windows and Elizabeth liked the opulence of it all. Lunch in a nice creperie. Dessert to go at a patisserie (for a country known for its pastry, we've had an awfully hard time finding patisseries). Musee D'Orsay - my favourite Parisien museum. We almost had painting overload by the end of the afternoon. My eyes would glaze over a bit, then I'd wake up as we switched to art nouveau furniture. I knew the D'Orsay had been a train station. What I didn't know was that it had also been a hotel. They refurbished the ballroom and I thought it was more beautiful than anything at Versailles. If I could have, I'd have snuck a picture of the chandeliers, but photos weren't allowed, and security was everywhere.

Tonight was E's birthday dinner at the Jules Verne in the Eiffel tower. Beautiful view over Paris at night. Incredible food. Great service. A waiter who's wife is from the north of Sweden (Luléa). He happened to overhear us say something about it being E's birthday, so he brought her dessert out with a candle in it.

Thanx to my parents who came to join us for the week and make the whole thing more special.

Paris day 3

Blue sky this morning...

The girls and boys split up today. The boys started up the Eiffel Tower. Even though Grampa is an old hand having been to Paris several times before, the tour was still exciting. Peter and Andrew loved it. There's even a skating rink there and you can rent skates... Next they headed off to the Bastille. Peter was hoping to see a remnant of the wall, or some other leftover from the revolution (where did he think he was? England? they don't do that here), but didn't find any. Found a good spot for lunch though. Then they walked (pause for effect) to Montmartre and the Cimitiere Pere LaChaise, the cemetary where many famous people are buried. They found Oscar Wilde.

The girls started Elizabeth's shopping day at the fabled Galleries Lafayette, a department store with so much in it, there are 3 separate buildings: Mode femme, mode homme, maison. GL is a magnificent building crowned by a stained glass dome. The first 3 floors ring the building, each with railings overlooking the dome and the central part of the main floor. It's very civilized: each floor has a waiting space with comfy couches and a coffee machine for those brought along with the shoppers to sit if they don't want to tag along. We found a lot of beautiful things from every designer you've ever heard of. Elizabeth and I were particularly taken with Red Valentino. It all begs the question though - who has a lifestyle where you'd actually dress in that stuff? Next we went "next door" to Printemps, hoping to find lunch and some clothes for Elizabeth. Found lunch and more designers and another beautiful art nouveau stained glass coupola. Somebody really knew how to build a department store... Next stop rue de Cambon, #31, Chanel's original / flagship store. We took pictures outside on the sidewalk at the front entrance, amusing the security guard and we saw the famous staircase where Coco used to sit at the top and watch the fashion shows. Eventually, we ended up back at the Champs Elysees to return to a couple of stores we'd seen yesterday. Shopping wasn't overly successful but I think that's because we were looking in the wrong places.

Dinner was a short walk from the hotel at a restaurant opened in 1908. We went not only for the food, which was great, but mostly for the art nouveau architecture and design, and walked back in the rain.

Paris day 2

Andrew's being the thinking gargoyle, in case you were wondering...

We started today with a trip up the bell tower of Notre Dame. En route to the tower, we crossed a bridge with a bunch of locks attached to the railing, like shoes in a shoe tree on the way up north. Upon closer inspection, each heart had the name of a couple in love and a date - locked together forever in the city of love.

The view from the top was worth the climb. Andrew lost count after 213. It's advertised as something like 300+. The bell tower has an interior wooden frame, to absorb the vibrations from the bells so the stone won't crack.

Next stop: Montmartre and Basilique Sacre-Coeur. It is magnificent - only dedicated in 1919 or so, the ceiling mosaics are done in exquisite detail. I liked it better than Notre Dame because of the mosaics. We wandered Montmartre and found a spot for lunch. The last time I was there, it was warmer -14 juillet, Bastille day 1989, the year of the bicentennaire. Elizabeth thought the whole place was dodgy probably because every street artist approached us and wanted to sketch her.

After that, we split from M&D. They went to the Grand Palais to see the Bulgari exhibit and we returned to the Champs Elysees then found our way to Blvd St Michel to hunt around for a spot for dinner. The St Michel voisinage looked the way I'd remembered - narrow streets crammed with restaurants. Lots of slabs of meat waiting to be turned into gyros.

Thank you to the French woman who helped us find the right train at les Invalides. We appreciated your kindness, asking us where we were trying to go, then leading us there so we wouldn't get lost.

Demain, c'est le jour de shopping! Elizabeth is very excited. The girls will start out hunting for Chanel on rue de Cambon, then head to Printemps and Galleries Lafayette, while the boys will do the Tour Eiffel and je ne sais pas quoi d'autres.

Paris day 1

I checked the weather forecast before we came. Rain on Thursday, +8 = bring rainboots. Rest of the week, temp hovering around 0. I forgot that 0 still means winter even though it's a warmer winter than in Sweden. One day, I'll learn and dress appropriately, so other than being cold, here's how today went:
* This is Elizabeth's 16th birthday trip.
* My parents surprised the kids by appearing at the hotel when we arrived. Andrew, the king of understatement, looks right at my mom, says "oh, hi Gran" completely deadpan like of course she'd be here. Looz was more surprised.
* First stop - lunch because we'd been up before 4am. Peter picked a charming place just across the river from Notre Dame. Quiche, salad, croque monsieur, omelette - something for everyone.
* Next stop - Notre Dame herself. We wandered about in awe of the height of her ceiling and of the recruiting posters (join the priesthood? why not!)(I kid you not), but chose not to line up to go up the bell tower. We're going to do that first thing tomorrow morning, hoping to beat the line
* Next - Arc de Triomphe and the metro. My mother is an experienced Metro strategizer, so she got us from A to B. We walked up to the Hotel de Ville, past the skating rink in its forecourt and the double decker (!) carousel. Peter had a short list of what he wanted to see in Paris. About the only thing was Arc de Triomphe. He was very impressed by it. I've been to Paris a few times, but I don't remember crossing under the street to actually stand under it before. Neat.
* Fika (afternoon snack) on the Champs Elysees
* walk down the Champs Elysees, past the Christmas stands, the petit et grand palais, ending up at Place de la Concorde just as the lights turned on - pure magic!
* dinner, a nice prix fixe for 18 euros, across from Notre Dame herself
Bon et heureux debut de notre sejour a Paris.