Into the light and out of the dark, to be with his red-haired lady

[sovay]

1. I am pleased to see that there is now an award named after the childhood author I had to keep describing to people, because rushthatspeaks is the only other person I've met who's read her. Apparently I was just in the wrong country. Maybe now I'll be able to find a copy of Devil on My Back (1984).

2. I am sad that my first week as a thirty-year-old has been mixed at best and all my plans for this weekend have disintegrated. Fortunately, I will be able to console myself on Sunday with Case Histories—Peter Pan (2003) reminded me that I do not have enough Jason Isaacs in my life. I was also reminded by Dreamchild (1984) that I've never written about that film, but it won't be happening this afternoon.

3. Have an interview with Tilda Swinton.

I'll be proofreading.

Comments

[ladymondegreen.livejournal.com]

Discovering that Dennis Lee had written the songs for Fraggle Rock a few years ago was part of that surreal year where I discovered that all the songs I grew up with were written by people I'd already heard of who were moonlighting in Canadian children's television. The other example was Malvina Reynolds, who wrote a huge number of songs for Mr. Dressup, the seminal Canandian children's television show.

Also I have a vague memory of having heard Mordacai Richler read Jacob Two-Two at my library, though it might have been the sequel. I have, somewhere, on vinyl, a recording of Jacob Two-Two which I really ought to convert to MP3.

[sovay]

all the songs I grew up with were written by people I'd already heard of who were moonlighting in Canadian children's television.

I have that happen with voice acting. Just reading the cast list for Watership Down (1978) can really hurt you if you're not braced for it.

[ladymondegreen.livejournal.com]

I have that happen with voice acting. Just reading the cast list for Watership Down (1978) can really hurt you if you're not braced for it.

I can certainly see how that would happen. I was so traumatized by the initial sequence in the film (it was rented for me when I was seven and my parents had gone out, I feel bad to this day for my poor babysitter who had to explain why an abstract and diffuse cartoon personification of death would not be able to come in through my bedrom window) that I didn't actually get to the main part.

I seem to have spent a lot of my childhood afraid of things that looked abstract, witness how thoroughly frightening I found the Red Bull from the animation of The Last Unicorn. This led to a really intersting revelation in college when I was studying psalms. By then I had internalized the text of the novel, and as I was reading psalms, came across the source text about the enemies of Zion covering their footprints and pushing them into the sea, and suddenly wondered if what I'd been having as a seven year old was existential terror or racial collective memory.

[sovay]

witness how thoroughly frightening I found the Red Bull from the animation of The Last Unicorn.

Dude. That's because it's terrifying. And I say this as someone who was first consciously shown the movie in high school.