And I'll be kissing you in the boneyard

[sovay]

time_shark has already reviewed the latest Goblin Fruit. I suspect deviltry at work.

Meanwhile, I got home from singing and running erands to discover, in among the snail-mail, my contributor's copy of Not One of Us #41, whose table of contents is a thing of great beauty. Stories by Patricia Russo and Erik Amundsen, poems by Gemma Files, Francesca Forrest, Elizabeth Bear, David Kopaska-Merkel and Kendall Evans, and that doesn't include the other half of the magazine. This issue's theme is morbidity and mortality, so those of you who are subscribers may consider it your printed Tenebrae. Those of you who are not subscribers, why not? My poems "Anon" and "Cryptogamy" may also be found therein.

In short, I am calling this week a success. Monday, I spent half the day at the Boston Museum of Science, acquired a DVD of Danton (1983, Andrzej Wajda) with a gift certificate Eric gave me for St. Swithin's Day, and found out my name now shows up in Dutch astronomical journals. Tuesday, I cooked mussels with coconut milk and lemon grass; Wednesday, I distracted Eric from Readercon and said hello to Eddy, who is visiting from Santa Cruz. Thursday, nineweaving and I made a much-delayed pilgrimage to Burdick's and then spent the afternoon at the Museum of Fine Arts with Venetian poesie and eighteenth-century sketches and words like palissander and mazarine. And today, see above, and in the evening I will see eredien. I still haven't written about Coriolanus. Oh, well. My uncle Thomas arrives later tonight.

This whole not sucking out loud thing, I could get used to it.

Comments

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

Whoo hoo! Danton, man...is it bad that what I remember best about that movie is its concentration on Robespierre's (perfectly historically accurate) excruciatingly inefficient digestive system? Though obviously I also found it fascinating because I'd read Danton's Death quite a bit by the time I was--twelve, or something, so my compare-and-contrast impulse was on high.

[sovay]

is it bad that what I remember best about that movie is its concentration on Robespierre's (perfectly historically accurate) excruciatingly inefficient digestive system?

Heh. No; Wojciech Pszoniak's Robespierre spends a certain amount of his screentime in the kind of white sweat I can sympathize with, even if I would personally avoid the man like the black death. I do recommend the rest of the film, though.

Though obviously I also found it fascinating because I'd read Danton's Death quite a bit by the time I was--twelve, or something, so my compare-and-contrast impulse was on high.

I have never read Danton's Death. Which is embarrassing, because I have read and/or heard at least three versions of Woyzeck, including the opera by Berg and Tom Waits' Blood Money. I kind of imprinted on Camille Desmoulins in Tanith Lee's The Gods Are Thirsty (1996) in grad school . . .

[handful-ofdust.livejournal.com]

Ha! How'd I know you'd be a Desmoulins fangirl?;)

Yeah, I love The Gods Are Thirsty. Though it always makes me want to write A/U threesome fic, and derail the Terror through hot OT3 sex.

[sovay]

How'd I know you'd be a Desmoulins fangirl?

(Patrice Chéreau is rather fine as him, too.)

Though it always makes me want to write A/U threesome fic, and derail the Terror through hot OT3 sex.

*ksnerk*

. . . so what's stopping you?