La Sylphide

Recently, I took my ten-year-old to see the Australian Ballet perform Pequita and La Sylphide at the State Theatre.  We drove to the city, paid a fortune for parking and ate McDonalds for dinner.

Outside McDonalds on Swanston Street, there was a rank of horse drawn carriages.  We had an hour to kill, so I inquired the price.  The driver told me.  I smiled, nodded politely and we stood there admiring the horses.  A short time later a father and son came along and inquired the price.  The driver told him.  The father smiled, nodded politely and they stood admiring the horses. 

I knew my daughter would love the carriage ride, so I asked the father, ‘Do you want to go halves?’

Soon we were clopping through the streets of Melbourne, with blankets across our knees, admiring the lights and the fountains.  It’s a peaceful, if somewhat smelly, way to travel.  I could almost sense what it would have been like to travel to the ballet a century or more ago.  Okay, so perhaps the lights of the MCG wouldn’t have been glaring, cars wouldn’t clog St Kilda Road and the Eureka wouldn’t tower over everything, but it was a lovely experience to share with my daughter (and a couple of complete strangers).

At the theatre, we were amongst the first to take our seats.  We had cheap seats right up the back of the balcony.  With few people in the theatre it was a dizzying height, but the other seats were soon filled.

During the performance of Pequita, two rather tall ladies with large buns perched on top of their heads sat in front of my daughter.  I offered to swap seats but my daughter was happy where she was, peeking between the big hairdos.  We swapped during intermission but the tall ladies didn’t return, so we had a clear view of the two acts of La Sylphide.

Pequita was spectacular, showing the amazing technique that ballet is famous for.  But La Sylphide?  What an amazing production!   The sets were fabulous, the dancing divine and the story easy to follow:  A Scotsman is awakened by a sylph on his wedding day and falls in love with her.  Meanwhile, as wedding plans are underway, the best man is trying to win the heart of the bride.  The Scotsman insults the wrong wedding guest (a witch) and tragedy ensues, but despite the tragic end for the Scotsman and the sylph, the story is light-hearted and funny.

The best bit according to my daughter:  When the best man does an impression of the sylph, then tries to sit on a chair that’s been moved.  That was my favourite bit too.

When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead

A year or two ago I read the unabridged version of The Water-Babies by Charles Kingsley.  It was a hard slog.  The rambling asides drove me mad, and it was so preachy (Charles Kingsley was a reverend).  But somewhere in there was a story that seems to have influenced many others (people who were smart enough to read the abridged version, no doubt).

For example, one of the characters (either Mrs Doasyouwouldbedoneby or Mrs Bedonebyasyoudid) grew more beautiful as naughty children learned to behave themselves, reminiscent of Nanny McPhee.  I’m now reading A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, which features characters named Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who and Mrs Which.  They also remind me of the ladies from The Water-Babies.

A Wrinkle in Time influenced Rebecca Stead to write When You Reach Me, a novel about a young girl who receives mysterious notes that seem to predict the future.  Out of the three books mentioned in this post, this is my favourite by far.  I managed to predict much of the ending from the clues and hints throughout the book, but I didn’t feel disappointed (I felt quite clever actually), and I really enjoyed the believable characters.  I can relate to Miranda’s Mom in the following quote from the book.

Best bit of When You Reach Me:

She shook her head slowly.  ‘I don’t know.  I just feel stuck, like I’m afraid to take any steps, in case they’re the wrong ones.  I need a little more time to think.’  She stood up.  ‘The water’s probably boiling by now.  Spaghetti in ten minutes.’

Spaghetti again.  We were kind of stuck, I realised.  In a lot of ways. – Rebecca Stead

 

 

That Was Then, This Is Now

I first read SE Hinton’s second novel as a teen.  I recall that I finished reading it on the train between Caulfield and Glenhuntly on the way to school one morning.  The ending made me feel as though I was under the train instead of in it.

When I re-read books now that had an emotional impact on me when I was younger, I find I have quite a different response.  Here are a couple of examples:

EB White’s The Trumpet of the Swan

Child: ‘NO! Don’t cut your webbing.’ Profuse tears.
Adult: ‘Is that all?  All those tears over one sentence?’

Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre

YA: ‘You go girl, stick to your morals.’
Adult:  ‘Are you insane?  Go to France with the love of your life you silly girl.’

SE Hinton’s That Was Then, This Is Now

YA: ‘NO! It can’t end that way.’
Adult:  I was expecting the impact, so it didn't hurt as much, but I still wish it didn’t end that way.

Best bit of That Was Then, This Is Now:  The brutal ending that makes you question everything you believe about right and wrong.

 

The Ink Bridge by Neil Grant

The Ink Bridge follows the separate but intersecting journeys of two kids who don’t speak.  One can’t (his tongue was removed by the Taliban); one chooses not to. 

 

Omed’s journey is gruelling and traumatic as he travels from Afghanistan to Australia with the dubious help of a nefarious people-smuggler.  He ends up working in a candle factory in Dandenong, where he befriends Hector.  Omed’s courage and bravery help Hector deal with his own trauma.  I enjoyed reading this section about places that I’m familiar with.  The descriptions of the ominous atmosphere surrounding the West Gate Bridge were spot on.

 

Many years later Hector travels to Afghanistan to find out what became of Omed.  The descriptions of Afghanistan detail a beauty that I never knew existed in that country.  The third part of the book is a great travelogue.  The book as a whole is not perfect, but an interesting and thought provoking read nonetheless.

 

Best Bit of The Ink Bridge: Her head is now on my chest and I can feel the words inside me. – Neil Grant

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

There have been a handful of books I’ve read over recent years that, upon reading the final page, I have wanted to flip back over and read again.  Some I’ve been able to (if I own them and don’t have another book waiting in the wings), and some I haven’t (if they are due back at the library or I have a deadline for another book). 

The first of these books was Twilight.  I know there are some who may turn their noses up at such an unliterary choice, but this book made me fall in love with reading again.  I’d always loved reading but I was thoroughly bored with grown-up books.  More and more often I was choosing to read magazines instead.  It had never occurred to me, until I had children of my own, that an adult could still enjoy children and YA literature.  I decided to read Twilight, not out of any real interest in the subject, but to find out what all the fuss was about.  I hadn’t read a teen love story since I was a teen and I loved Twilight despite its flaws.  It reacquainted me with the girl I used to be, the one who believed in true love and possibilities.

A few of the other books I’ve wanted to reread immediately:  The Changeover by Margaret Mahy, Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones, Sea Hearts by Margo Lanagan and The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. 

This past week I read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.  It’s a book about kids with cancer.  It will make you laugh.  It will make you cry.  It will make you hug your loved ones tighter.  You’ve got to love a book that can do all that without being sappy and that’s why I’m reading it again.

Best bit of The Fault in Our Stars:  “That’s the thing about pain,” Augustus said, and then glanced back at me.  “It demands to be felt.” – John Green.

Chilly Melbourne mornings

Best Bit of chilly Melbourne mornings: Glorious winter days.

Best Bit of Jasper Jones

This year I’ve been working my way through the list of Top Ten Aussie Books to Read Before You Die - http://www.abc.net.au/arts/aussiebooks/.  I had read several of the titles already and Jasper Jones was my final one.  Had it not been on the list, I may have given up on it – something I rarely do. 

It’s about a couple of boys who discover a dead body then hide it.  When a dead body is involved you expect a murder mystery or detective novel, but it doesn’t read like that.  A lot of the time I kept thinking ‘Get on with the story’. The characters spend a lot of time talking about stuff that doesn’t move the story forward.  Charlie Bucktin was more observer than main character.  Had he been more proactive, the story would have been stronger.  I think it was worth sticking with though for the secrets revealed in the second half of the book.

Best bit of Jasper Jone:  Sorry means you feel the pulse of other people’s pain, as well as your own, and saying it means you take a share of it. – Craig Silvey.