Einstein, Dostoevsky and films

Watched the BBC's Einstein and Eddington last night. I was really looking forward to seeing how Andy Serkis played Enistein; somehow it feels like a role he was born to play! I'm also not knocking yet another opportunity to see David Tennant in - well - anything at all, really. I have to admit, I was somewhat gutted about the fact that much of the filming took place in and around Cambridge - at precisely the times when I was no longer there! Sod's law... The film (which, at an hour and a half, is what it was, I suppose) left me feeling a little bit empty. The performances were brilliant for the most part, and the script was very good. However, it felt as though it needed a little more time to develop the central characters. I suppose for that sort of running time, you're talking about a series, and I don't think the story warranted that, but I still felt as though something were missing. The references to faith and God were very interesting, but felt a bit out of place; I would have liked the writer to explore that side of things a little more. One of the most important things this programme did, however, was to remind you that science never takes place in a vacuum. So much of what happens is informed by the time and place in which it takes place. The speech given by Eddington at the very end of the programme highlighted this well: he said that, in the light of this new science (Einstein's General Relativity), the world felt brand new and a little bit more lonely. A relevant epithet for the post-WW1 society, too, I think. Boyfriend commented that the great leaps in science always seem to occur in times of historical unrest or military campaign. There is something disquieting about this: can progress only occur through the necessity of beating one's enemies (or competitors)? It also interestingly raised the issue of scientific discovery being used as much for propoganda as for military gain. Very good programme, all in all.

I think, if I were to be any scientist, I would like to be Einstein. I have a great deal of time for him. He had the ability to see the patterns in things, and prized imagination very highly. He did not entirely detach himself from living in the world either; he was acutely aware of the implications of his scientific research, particularly insofar as it led to the development of the A-bomb. It reminded me of the fact that he donated his brain to medical science when he died. Rather like the phrenologists of the Victorian age, medical researchers were keen to study his brain to see if there were any physiological location for his genius. They found nothing special. I like that! It is like Dostoevsky's Zosima in The Brothers Karamazov: an exceptionally holy monk whose body is expected to remain miraculously preserved after death, but actually decomposes at an unusual rate. Such groundedness gives me the hope that anyone can be anything - monk or genius - that the potential is there. (Although some years later another scientist obtained special permission to look again at Einstein's brain and found a certain section of the frontal lobe to be larger than normal...)

I've just watched Stardust for the nth time and still love it to bits. It's definitely the kind of film to watch when you're on your own for the evening and it's raining outside. I have to admit (as sacrilegious as this may sound to some) that I prefer the screenplay to Neil Gaiman's novel - it has more humour to it, and, I suppose filmically, it works better. Which is what it's meant to do, after all! Anyway, the soundtrack has now gone on my Amazon wishlist...

Good books, historical books, theological books...

I've just finished reading Walter Moers's The City of Dreaming Books. I picked it up in the local library, as an 'I need one more book for this week' book. It's the first of his 'Zamonian' books that I've read and I thorougly enjoyed it. It is set in the fantasy world of Zamonia and tells the story of a young Lindworm who travels to the big city to hunt down the greatest ever author. When he naively shows the manuscript he possesses to several publishers and literary agents, he is poisoned and locked away in the city's catacombs deep under ground. Lost and alone, he battles his way past various supposedly mythical creatures on his journey towards knowledge. The drawings in the book are fantastic, and are used really cleverly in several places as narrative tools. I have to admit, I was a little sceptical of reading a novel whose main protagonist is a dinasaur (sorry, a Lindworm), but it was a very funny and very insightful story. I'll now try and get hold of his other works published in English (and perhaps even have a go at the German!).

As far as research goes, I'm now ploughing on with the next chapter. This is to be based around the themes of authority and interpretation in reading Scripture as part of the liturgy. Funnily enough, there's not a book to be had on this subject, so I've come home from the university library with a tonne of books that will probably all turn out to be totally irrelevant! I think I might like to include something about the book of Job as part of this chapter, so I picked up Jung's Answer to Job. This is a fascinating book - it feels incredibly dated, with its misogynistic assumptions about women (par exemple, "this symbol lays bare the whole mystery of the 'woman': she contains in her darkness the sun of 'masculine' consciousness") and its reliance on astrology to explain features of psychology. It reminds me of the fact that just such psychologists treated women in the early 20th century who presented with the symptoms of 'hysteria' - turns out the women in question had all experienced orgasm for the first time. There is something incredibly tragic about that! It makes you feel as though you need to constantly remember exactly why feminism needed to happen in the first place, if only as a tribute to the women who were harmed by the prevailing 'scientific' and 'intellectual' views. Anyway, this book feels as though it belongs to that particular period of 'enlightenment' - but a quick glance at the publisher's details shows it was first published in 1954. Not so long ago.... Despite this, Jung has some interesting (if theolgically dubious) things to say about what God has to learn from Job; what he can gain for himself by reading Job, as it were.

I've also just finished reading Neil Gaiman's American Gods. I've started it several times, and never managed to get all the way through. I think it's one of those novels where you need to be in exactly the right frame of mind to get through it. I was determined to manage it, though, as I love everything else he has written. I find the main character difficult to sympathise with, and I know next to nothing about the geography of America, but this time round I found it really fascinating. From the perspective of my academic background, some of the images towards the end of the novel were really very interesting and may well make it into my chapter on a theology of reading non-religious texts (taking a great deal of liberty, I imagine, with the author's own personal views on religious belief!). We have something of a Neil Gaiman household at the moment - my partner is whizzing through Neverwhere. He's not a great reader (of fiction, at any rate), but he enjoyed The Graveyard Book and I persuaded him to give Neverwhere a go. He absolutely loves it! Good Omens next, I think.

Pratchett, Chekhov and Augustine

I've just finished reading Terry Pratchett's The Fifth Elephant (I came to the Discworld series very late, and am now enjoying reading like a 16-year-old boy. Not that that constitutes the bulk of his readership, of course!). The book has a marvellous interlude in which the hero, Sam Vines, runs into three sisters who live in a cherry orchard, want to move to the big city, and loan him a pair of Uncle Vanya's trousers. Having torturously studied both "The Cherry Orchard" and "Three Sisters" in Russian at school, I deeply appreciated the comic turn of this chapter. Just like all readers (viewers) of "Three Sisters", I always wondered why they didn't just get off their arses and go to Moscow. In Pratchett's version, the youngest sibling is pressing for just that (hooray!). It reminded me of the fact that, when the play was first produced by the Moscow Arts Theatre (MXAT, in Russian) with Stanislavsky at the helm, a dispute arose between Chekhov and the director. Chekhov swore blind that he'd written a comedy; Stanislavsky patiently explained that it was, in fact, a deeply emotional and painfully static realist play and, moreover, this was precisely how the company were going to perform it. This always made me wonder what would have happened if they had produced it as a comedy. Jonathan Ross once spoke about a Swedish film he'd seen, which was far and away the most depressing film he'd ever experienced; he watched it again in the cinema whilst in Sweden and discovered to his great constenation that it was considered to be a roll-in-the-aisles comedy.

On the point of authors who make me laugh, I've just started to read Augustine's On Christian Doctrine as part of my research. He has a light touch and tone that is so wonderfully suited to today's readership. I am studying his understanding of reading in the Christian community, looking in particular at the notions of authoritative reading associated with Christian liturgy. To those members of the communion who suggest that they are able to read and interpret Scripture correctly without reference to Church or liturgy, he sarcastically points out that, "I would such persons could calm themselves so far as to remember that, however justly they may rejoice in God's great gift, yet it was from human teachers they themselves learnt to read." He continues to note that many of the readers who refuse to acknowledge the interpretation of the Church themselves "undertake to interpret for others". I think he may secretly have been an Englishman at heart!

Reluctant Kings

Have just seen the following on the BBC website - the new King of Bhutan has been crowned. He is the youngest king in the world and looks, to me, to be distinctly uncomfortable with the whole process!

Even sillier is the news that an effigy of Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand is to burned in Kent as part of a bonfire night spectacle. It really does seem to have got out of hand now. They are not the first entertainers to be uncomfortably risque, nor will they be the last, I imagine. It makes you wonder how much this entire situation is about the offense caused to a respected actor (who, by the by, is being treated as a doddery old fool by most of the nation's press) and how much it is about the fear of ambition and success. I think it would be a loss if these performers found themselves unable to get work on the basis of this event. Having said that, perhaps the controversy won't do either of them any harm!

Addendum

Bakhtin once said that in the novel, "every object of artistic representation loses its completedness, its hopelessly finished quality". It made me think: things have to be wrong for there to be hope and what is the world without hope? The implications of this are difficult to contemplate...

It's a new day

Stayed up till 2am to try and get a sense of which way the US Election would go. I don't know why it's generated such interest for me - I'm certainly not passionate about British politics. I suppose the closest political experience we have over here in the past few decades is the 1997 Labour win - change was definitely in the air then. Obama is different, somehow. I think it may be to do with his inherent calmness - something far more trustworthy than manifesto promises and glittering rhetoric (although he has those in abundance too). I have never really been attracted to the US, I'm quite happy being a cynical Brit, but last night/this morning I felt something of the excitement of being an American. If the only change this moment really offers is a renewed hope that unites a people, then, surely, this is a good thing? I don't doubt that things will be hard for him once he has been inaugurated, but a change is an opportunity, and those don't come along very often. Better that than no opportunity at all. I suppose now we all have to take stock a little, and readjust our expectations - despite the media rhetoric, he is no Superman or Messiah, but he is a man who inspires hope, and this is an exhiliarating thing. I hope he and his family can rest now before things really start to get tough!

These moments of history are a different experience of time. One experiences them in the knowledge that, although they are being lived through in that particular moment, they will continue to exist forever as a snapshot of emotion and relatedness. Everyone remembers where they were, what they were doing, when history occurred. It feels as though this justifies humanity, to some extent: for most of our lives, we live a routine, but just occasionally we step outside of it and celebrate what it means to be human. I can't imagine there will be many Americans going to work today, for example!! The funny thing is, looking back at my own lifetime, these moments of history seem to be mostly tragic, full of pain and anger. 9/11 is the obvious one, as is the death of Diana. I have lived through two Gulf Wars, and countless other conflicts. The London and Madrid bombings. The IRA bombings when I was a child. There has been no Coronation or great Royal wedding since I was born. No wars have been decisively won, there has been no real patriotic uniting of the people of my country. (The only real sense of unity we may have had was marred by the London bombings the very next day.) Hope is hard to find in the national and international context, so it has been down to indiviudals to find it for themselves and this, perhaps, compounds the problem; we lose our sense of connectedness, and become more inward focussing. Today has a sense of hope about it, and I will celebrate it for that alone, even if his tenure as President turns out to be a total disaster!

On a totally different note, I saw an advert earlier for a new BBC documentary about the Picture Book (children's literature that is memorably illustrated). It looks fascinating. Obviously, my recent return to Roald Dahl has equally been a return to the wonderful illustrations of Quentin Blake. His drawings have such wonderful energy about them. They look so simple, yet, like all great works of art, they are nigh on impossible to recreate! I read an article in the Times not long ago about Blake's current projects (from David Walliams's new children's story to advertising outside a commercial development in King's Cross). It's good to see he is still going strong. I look forward to seeing how this BBC documentary treats the use of pictures in children's books.

Chapter submitted...

Sorry for the delay - went back to parents' house for a week to house sit/buckle down to PhD work. Have finally finished a (barely) presentable draft of proposed Chapter 3 - only a short 3 months late! Supervisor responded almost immediately to organise supervision, so we shall see.

Also went to first rehearsal of play I'm involved in (I wrote one of the short stories that is being adapted). Given that it's local theatre and has a rehearsal schedule of 2 weeks before the (one and only) performance, I had been worried that it might be something of a train wreck. Luckily it was better than I had anticiptated. It still won't be great drama, but it's not a bad start.

I've been picking up several new blogs along the way. The one I most enjoy is Bookwitch. Reading it makes me want to blog more often! I've also come across several interesting articles from these blogs (e.g. the man who wants to marry a cartoon character).

Today is US election day. I don't remember any election having such a buzz before. Most people I know are pro-Obama, although some perfectly sensible people are pro-McCain. It makes me wonder to what extent the support for the Democrats is merely fashionable. Or, indeed, a reaction to Bush. I'm not sure McCain is being assessed on his own faults/merits, but rather, the experience of the last eight years of Republicanism. I'm also fairly cautious of whirlwind media savvy political campaigns that fizzle out soon after election. We'll see. Certainly change is needed - I'm just not sure what kind of change will occur. Anyway, I will be sitting up with boyfriend and housemate to see the results (something I wouldn't even do for the UK elections!)