Knowledge is but a clicker box away

Ah, winter. Darkness, warm clothes and cuddly blanket, hot chocolate. All things that make me feel cozy, and physically lazy (especially after a few hours of cross country skiing or walks in the snow). Ironically, it is the time I feel most intellectually stimulated, and I seek out non-fiction as much as 'deep' fiction.

However, when life deems that reading time is allotted but in small chunks, non-fiction, full of dates, facts and figures, is not the optimum choice. What's a reader to do?

Turn on the TV!

I don't do it often, but now and then I rise early in the morning, taking my cuddly paraphernalia in the basement where my TV is, and indulge in some great documentaries. I just finished discs 1-4 of the BBC's The Private Life of a Masterpiece. They contain thirteen 'biographies' of some of history's most celebrated works of art. Starting with magnificent La Primavera by Sandro Botticelli, the series examines works from Italian Renaissance, Dutch and Spanish Baroque, and early Romanticism, a classic Japanese print, and ending with the birth of modern art.

Despite having studied art history pretty much all my adult life, I have yet to see most of these works, so it adds some dimension to seeing the works' settings, rather than just the image head on. There is a greater impact seeing Leonardo's Last Supper as it is meant to be, as part of a monastery's refectory, and imagine the impact of sitting and dining under this powerful painting! Also, some of the musings from the interviewees makes me stop and realise "hey, I never thought about it that way." My particular favorite episodes thus far are Edvard Munch's The Scream and James McNeill Whistler's Arrangement in Grey and Black No.1 - Portrait of the Artist's Mother, oddly enough, since I've never been much of a modernist. Perhaps now I'm ready to learn about that which used to turn me off.

Ah, the power of television.

A rather charming read...

Penny Nichols (yes, she is aware of the absurdity of her name) is coasting through life: her research job for historical accuracy in made-for-TV films pays the bills, but it's not entirely fulfilling; she's had serious romantic relationships (with her boss, none the less!) but never been really in love; she's been to exciting international locales, but has been too busy working to really enjoy them. But that all changes with one phone call...

Penny's mum informs her that Penny must represent the family in London at the reading of the last will and testament of Great Aunt Penelope, who is represented by Penny's dashing cousin Jeremy. It is revealed that in addition to Aunt P's London apartment, Penny shares inheritance of a French Villa with Jeremy and their dastardly older cousin, Rollo. However, Rollo is not overly fond of the results, and intends to get all of Penelope's French property, by any means. Rollo's actions set into play a whirlwind of activity through three countries, as well as helps Penny makes personal discoveries of her great aunt, that turns Penelope from a lonely, drab old spinster to a woman who loved and lost, and then found a treasure greater than any material item.

C.A. Belmond's A Rather Lovely Inheritance is an entertaining combination of romance, laughs, history, exciting locations, and a mysterious twist. Most of the characters are light and enjoyable (I particularly enjoy Penny's fun-loving parents; what other kind of people would name their child Penny Nichols?), balanced by the greedy Rollo and his ancient mum. Yes, it's rather predictable, and has a happy ending, but it makes you feel warm and fuzzy and comfortable, like having your favourite cup of tea overlooking the Thames.

Could you love this man?

The book Les Liaisons Dangereuses, originally written by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos in 1780s France, has been translated into numerous languages, as well as for stage, radio, television, and screen.

The story centers around the Marquise De Merteuil's request to her former lover, Valmont, to seduce Cecile, a young aristocrat who is set to marry another of her lovers. Valmont declines, stating it is too easy, and that he has set his sights on a real challenge: get the honourable Madame de Tourveil to break her marriage vows during her husband's absence. Merteuil bets a night with herself that he will fail. Things get more complicated when Valmont changes his mind regarding Cecile after her mother warns de Tourveil of his reputation, while Merteuil takes on the young girl's love interest as her own. Once Valmont manages to win their bet, Merteuil reneges on her promise, the two become enemies, and plot one another's downfall.

The late 1980s saw not one, but two English versions of Les Liaisons Dangereuses hit the big screen; the first, Dangerous Liaisons, was based on a theatre version by Chris Hampton, directed by Stephen Frears and starring John Malkovich, Glenn Close and Michelle Pfeiffer. The second was directed by Milos Forman and starred Colin Firth, Annette Bening and Meg Tilly. Interestingly, the two versions, while sharing the same plot line differ drastically.

Valmont is selfish and childish, but utterly charming, at least played by Firth; Malkovich's portrayal is much more sinister, cold and calculated, a man who only really smiles with the conquering of a human spirit. Likewise, Close, as the Marquise De Merteuil, is cunning, cruel, and takes great delight watching the distress of others. Bening's portrayal of the Marquise, while vengeful and vindictive, is also witty, high-spirited, and affable; she appears to ensure trust and friendship to her 'victims.' Tilly and Pfeiffer both play Madame de Tourveil; Tilly's characterisation is vulnerable, innocent, and naive, while Pfeiffer's is more articulate, astute and stronger-willed.

I admit to loving both versions, and have watched them repeatedly. Dangerous Liaisons comes across as more structured, with a clearer motive and plot, but the sets are darker and the characterisations are less multidimensional that Valmont. Valmont is lush, colourful, playful, and much more joyful; I understand why Madame de Tourveil ruins her marriage because of Valmont, and why Cecile takes the Marquise as her confidante. They are real people who are flawed, and weak. Does it mean I prefer Valmont? Not necessarily; the two films are equal, but different.

Next time a rainy day threatens to keep you inside, try one, or both, films, and make your own decisions!

Pat