Here's ten tips on writing.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/24/elmore-leonard-rules-for-writers
Like they say, if you are good, you can break all the rules, and you are still doing it right.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Monday, March 8, 2010
What they wore at Oscar
In the South China Morning Post today, there were pictures and reports on the brand or the designer of Jennifer Lopez, Cameron Diaz, Charlize Theron, Meryl Streep, and Kate Winslet's dresses. In addition, Kate Winslet was also reported to wear a US$2.5 million necklace of a certain brand. None of them won any awards this year, and I doubt if they had any nominations at the Oscar.
I think Kathryn Bigelow is pretty, and her dress is unusual yet beautiful, and looks good on her. Before the ceremony, she was believed to have a high chance of winning the best director award, and indeed, she becomes the first woman to do so. Now, did the luxury brand sponsors simply ignore her, or did she not want to advertise for them, or is her sponsor not as big and famous as the others ? Or did this newspaper miss out the "news" ? Or is this dress sponsorship business just not as straightforward as I am guessing ?
I think Kathryn Bigelow is pretty, and her dress is unusual yet beautiful, and looks good on her. Before the ceremony, she was believed to have a high chance of winning the best director award, and indeed, she becomes the first woman to do so. Now, did the luxury brand sponsors simply ignore her, or did she not want to advertise for them, or is her sponsor not as big and famous as the others ? Or did this newspaper miss out the "news" ? Or is this dress sponsorship business just not as straightforward as I am guessing ?
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Night Safari Adventure
In a recent visit to the Night Safari in Singapore, my friend and I were in time for a live performance by animals, and we went to the amphitheatre to see it. Typical of outdoor amphitheatres, there are no chairs, and the sitting area is simply constructed in sections of steps so that the audience sits on the floor or the stairway tread, with the heels in contact with the tread one step below.
We saw animals that make an appearance and didn’t do much, and the animals that could show some tricks are of course the monkeys.
At one point of the show, the trainers needed to look for their lost animals. The audience had no ideas what they were searching for. The trainers claimed that they heard the animals among the audience. They tried one corner, and then they looked at another section. After hitting the wrong spots three or four times, they at last decided that the animal was hiding near where my friend and I were sitting. The few of us sitting in the same row were requested to stand up and moved aside. Right at the area where my friend and I had placed our feet when we were seated, was a door. The animal trainers pulled open the door, and, lo and behold, they took an enormous snake out from the open space below. I don’t know what kind of a snake that it. The snake was carried up the stage and became the next star of the show.
We saw animals that make an appearance and didn’t do much, and the animals that could show some tricks are of course the monkeys.
At one point of the show, the trainers needed to look for their lost animals. The audience had no ideas what they were searching for. The trainers claimed that they heard the animals among the audience. They tried one corner, and then they looked at another section. After hitting the wrong spots three or four times, they at last decided that the animal was hiding near where my friend and I were sitting. The few of us sitting in the same row were requested to stand up and moved aside. Right at the area where my friend and I had placed our feet when we were seated, was a door. The animal trainers pulled open the door, and, lo and behold, they took an enormous snake out from the open space below. I don’t know what kind of a snake that it. The snake was carried up the stage and became the next star of the show.
Animal Farm performance
Animal Farm from W!ld Rice is the first theatre performance I saw for this year’s Hong Kong Arts Festival. In preparation for viewing this performance, I read George Orwell’s Animal Farm for the first time a month ago.
Six actors and actresses took the roles of various animals, and an actor may rotate among a few animal roles. They moved like animals, and they produced sounds made by pigs and horses and dogs. A seventh actor took all the human roles. The “animals” are without proper clothes, covered in rag-like pieces, with all their limbs showing. At the second last scene, they are fully dressed to drink champagne to celebrate human-animal cooperation. The most interesting props are air-conditioning ducts used to represent the Windmill and the horse slaughterer’s van. On the music, I managed to identify the tune usually played when Huang Feihong started his duel, and also the music for a Hokkien/Fujian song on working hard to get ahead in life, but with the lyrics replaced to praise Napolean. The Caucasian audience may like the few lines from My Way sung by Napolean when he was drunk and dragged off the stage.
The final scene portrayed a human feeding Clover and stroking her head. I don’t think this scene is in the book, but I couldn’t be entirely sure. The book has been returned to the library. This scene seems to tell me that human has the capacity to care or even love the animals as long as the animals are submissive. But the animals are no longer themselves when they have been dominated by humans.
The drama is worth watching. It is a faithful adaptation of the novel, and there are interesting choreography and movements.
Six actors and actresses took the roles of various animals, and an actor may rotate among a few animal roles. They moved like animals, and they produced sounds made by pigs and horses and dogs. A seventh actor took all the human roles. The “animals” are without proper clothes, covered in rag-like pieces, with all their limbs showing. At the second last scene, they are fully dressed to drink champagne to celebrate human-animal cooperation. The most interesting props are air-conditioning ducts used to represent the Windmill and the horse slaughterer’s van. On the music, I managed to identify the tune usually played when Huang Feihong started his duel, and also the music for a Hokkien/Fujian song on working hard to get ahead in life, but with the lyrics replaced to praise Napolean. The Caucasian audience may like the few lines from My Way sung by Napolean when he was drunk and dragged off the stage.
The final scene portrayed a human feeding Clover and stroking her head. I don’t think this scene is in the book, but I couldn’t be entirely sure. The book has been returned to the library. This scene seems to tell me that human has the capacity to care or even love the animals as long as the animals are submissive. But the animals are no longer themselves when they have been dominated by humans.
The drama is worth watching. It is a faithful adaptation of the novel, and there are interesting choreography and movements.
Wuthering Heights
My first reading of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights took place more than twenty years ago, and I couldn’t remember anything from the book. I read it a second time recently.
On finishing the book, I could vageuly recall my reaction from my first reading. It might have been a rather let-down feeling. No one in the story is likeable and the love story isn’t romantic.
Now, I still feel that no one is likeable. It still isn’t what I will call a nice romance story. The hero and heroine didn't quite declare their love to each other. In fact, at Catherine’s deathbed, it looked rather like a declaration of hatred.
Having attended some short courses on literature recently, I come to the conclusion that great literature works are usually ambiguous. And hence, that generates lots of questions which readers and critics and students and professors could argue and debate over.
I feel quite neutral about this book. And I have no questions, apart from why this book is such a great piece of literature. I am not even curious why Emily Bronte wanted everyone in the book to love so obsessively.
I didn’t think there is anything wrong with the housekeeper Ellen Dean. Her actions may not be totally acceptable, but it is not wrong that she took her childcare responsibility seriously and at times behaved like she was the mother of the children. It is not wrong that she meant well. Her actions did not cause or avoid any events, because Heathcliff was just too cunning and determined and would have gotten his ways through other means or "accompliace". And I didn't think that narrative voices should be completely neutral. That was one way to know this character, and through her narrative content we know how others at the times feel about the issues.
I felt relieved that Heathcliff died. It is not well explained why he died. I think it is because he disturbed the dead. At first I thought it seems a bit ironic that we need the supernatural to defeat him, but I then realized this is more acceptable than having everyone around him joining forces to kill him. Overthrowing tyranny isn’t the point of this book.
Heathcliff didn’t want to die when Catherine died. He didn’t want to let Catherine rest in peace, but wanted her to haunt him. That was one of the most powerful lines in the book. Catherine had some startling lines too, like she is Heathcliff and Heathcliff is her. Maybe this is one reason why the book is a great literature. So much love and so much hate. So much togetherness and separation.
On finishing the book, I could vageuly recall my reaction from my first reading. It might have been a rather let-down feeling. No one in the story is likeable and the love story isn’t romantic.
Now, I still feel that no one is likeable. It still isn’t what I will call a nice romance story. The hero and heroine didn't quite declare their love to each other. In fact, at Catherine’s deathbed, it looked rather like a declaration of hatred.
Having attended some short courses on literature recently, I come to the conclusion that great literature works are usually ambiguous. And hence, that generates lots of questions which readers and critics and students and professors could argue and debate over.
I feel quite neutral about this book. And I have no questions, apart from why this book is such a great piece of literature. I am not even curious why Emily Bronte wanted everyone in the book to love so obsessively.
I didn’t think there is anything wrong with the housekeeper Ellen Dean. Her actions may not be totally acceptable, but it is not wrong that she took her childcare responsibility seriously and at times behaved like she was the mother of the children. It is not wrong that she meant well. Her actions did not cause or avoid any events, because Heathcliff was just too cunning and determined and would have gotten his ways through other means or "accompliace". And I didn't think that narrative voices should be completely neutral. That was one way to know this character, and through her narrative content we know how others at the times feel about the issues.
I felt relieved that Heathcliff died. It is not well explained why he died. I think it is because he disturbed the dead. At first I thought it seems a bit ironic that we need the supernatural to defeat him, but I then realized this is more acceptable than having everyone around him joining forces to kill him. Overthrowing tyranny isn’t the point of this book.
Heathcliff didn’t want to die when Catherine died. He didn’t want to let Catherine rest in peace, but wanted her to haunt him. That was one of the most powerful lines in the book. Catherine had some startling lines too, like she is Heathcliff and Heathcliff is her. Maybe this is one reason why the book is a great literature. So much love and so much hate. So much togetherness and separation.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A Scene from To Kill a Mocking Bird
Tom Robinson rushed around wildly, aimlessly, desperately. His eyes darted in all directions, with unsteady stare and panicky glimpses. He moved quickly here, turned, and made a few steps there. He swirled, ran in one direction, and then another, so he moved all over the stage, furtively, hurriedly, followed closely by a dozen other actors. The light was dimmed, but the audience saw all their ghostly bodies, and Tom Robinson stood out because he was defenseless, with nothing to protect his body from the others who were each holding a stool with the hands. They looked like bar stools, reaching above the waist if they were placed on the floor. They were metallic, and loud clanging sound of one bar stool occasionally hitting another would cover the background music which was unnerving and ominous.
Each actor moved to his body's order. They were not dancing, and no-coordination of movement was necessary. They simply need to move with the same style and rhythm, and they did, lifting the stool over the head, swinging it to the left, or right, or up, or down. The stool moved along circular path, along imaginary arcs and chords. At one second, someone could be standing tall with the stool over the head, and another swinging the arm with fingers clenching the stool, and a third person bending at the waist with the stool over the shoulder, or stooping, or descending and ascending. They drifted and slided with big steps and small steps, sometimes rapidly and sometimes slowly. Not exactly graceful swinging and swaying and bending, but still, there was some fluidity in the movement. They might be going through the motion of swimming with force but without the water, or taiji, with the slowness and certainty but without the gentleness, or even fencing, but the motion a hundred times slower, with the sword replaced by the stool.
Each of the stool actor took their turn to fling the stool down, and at the exact moment when the stool hit the floor, a deafening bang rang out in the theatre. Not a clear sound, but do we ever describe the thundering noise made by the release of the bullet from a gun or rifle as a clear sound ? How many bullets were fired at Tom Robinson ? I couldn't remember. Was it seventeen ? Nineteen ? At each gunshot, Tom fell, and struggled to get up. Each raise was more painful and slower than the last. Finally, his face in agony, his frail body twisted out of shape, he staggered no more, and he had the last collapse.
The above was a scene from a play that I watched at the Drama Centre Theatre at the National Library Building in Singapore. It is based on Harper Lee’s novel, adapted for stage by Christopher Sergel, and performed by the Toy Factory.
Each actor moved to his body's order. They were not dancing, and no-coordination of movement was necessary. They simply need to move with the same style and rhythm, and they did, lifting the stool over the head, swinging it to the left, or right, or up, or down. The stool moved along circular path, along imaginary arcs and chords. At one second, someone could be standing tall with the stool over the head, and another swinging the arm with fingers clenching the stool, and a third person bending at the waist with the stool over the shoulder, or stooping, or descending and ascending. They drifted and slided with big steps and small steps, sometimes rapidly and sometimes slowly. Not exactly graceful swinging and swaying and bending, but still, there was some fluidity in the movement. They might be going through the motion of swimming with force but without the water, or taiji, with the slowness and certainty but without the gentleness, or even fencing, but the motion a hundred times slower, with the sword replaced by the stool.
Each of the stool actor took their turn to fling the stool down, and at the exact moment when the stool hit the floor, a deafening bang rang out in the theatre. Not a clear sound, but do we ever describe the thundering noise made by the release of the bullet from a gun or rifle as a clear sound ? How many bullets were fired at Tom Robinson ? I couldn't remember. Was it seventeen ? Nineteen ? At each gunshot, Tom fell, and struggled to get up. Each raise was more painful and slower than the last. Finally, his face in agony, his frail body twisted out of shape, he staggered no more, and he had the last collapse.
The above was a scene from a play that I watched at the Drama Centre Theatre at the National Library Building in Singapore. It is based on Harper Lee’s novel, adapted for stage by Christopher Sergel, and performed by the Toy Factory.
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