Slang: A Very Short Introduction by Jonathon Green was the third book I’ve read from the AVS series. It was my ‘purse book’ for the better part of three months, which I read piece meal in waiting rooms and the like. This book, like the whole VSI series, is very academic in style, and is written for academics. Having left grad school around a year and a half ago, it took me a few chapters to warm up, but then it was fine. However, it definitely will not make for good reading if you aren’t used to that style.
The book traces slang throughout time, complete with ye olde illustrations, but at points it feels a little dry (considering the subject matter). Some parts are extremely interesting, however, and I enjoyed reading it on the whole. The author is basically forced to deal with Urban Dictionary, but refuses to acknowledge its validity (at least in part, since it is ‘peer reviewed’ with the up/down voting). Even though the author won’t say it’s valid, he also won’t leave it out of the book, so it felt awkward. Near the end he makes points about regional and family slang that are very interesting, and it got me thinking about slang that’s used inside my family unit. It’s something that I’d never really thought about before. The chapters and sections are not broken up in a way that it can be used easily in a college classroom (in my opinion, anyway, and that way my original reason for picking it up), but it’s a good read nonetheless.
The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson was originally published in 1959 before being being turned into two movies and (soon) a Netflix series. After terrorizing students for years with her short story, “The Lottery,” I became intrigued by this novel when a friend read it for a book club. A year later, I’m happy to say that I finished the novel, and in two readings nonetheless. The night I started it, I stopped reading it when I was about 80 pages in because I could tell something terrifying was about to happen, and I didn’t want to be up all night either reading it or worrying about ghosts.
The novel has a relatively small cast of characters: Dr. John Montague, a paranormal scientist; Eleanor Vance (Nell) a shy woman of 32 who has taken care of her mother for the last 11 years; Theodora (Theo) who seems to possess some sort of telepathic or psychic abilities; and Luke Sanderson who is the heir to the house, a charming rake, and whose aunt seems to want to get rid of him. If four people from diverse backgrounds staying overnight in a haunted mansion where terrible events took place seems trite, don’t blame Jackson: she invented these tropes. As much as I hate horror movies, I absolutely love terror in books, and Jackson’s novel is a slow, atmospheric build. Once events start happening you know that it’s already out of control, and many questions remain unanswered at the end of the novel.
The Question of Eleanor and Theodora
One of the main questions that I ended the novel with is about Eleanor and Theodora; are they in love? I talked about “lesbian disruptions” in my The Return of the Soldier writeup, but this is something more. Eleanor is the shy mousy girl in the story, she’s living with her sister, Carrie, and her brother-in-law three months after her mother, who she was forced to take care of, died. She hated her mother, and kind of slept through her mother’s demand for medicine, which may have been what killed her. Oops! At 32 years old we get the impression that she’s never had a boyfriend or relationship of any kind, and that she sees herself as essentially unwanted. She has a wild, immersive imagination that fills the beginning sections of the novel, and she covers up the banality of her own life with pieces of these early daydreams. It’s only at the end of the novel that she reveals that she truly has no place to go home to, and it’s crushing.
I’ve been playing the Persona series for a while now, with not a few games under my belt, so when it became known that Persona 5 was finally coming out (and on PS3, no less, since I’m not buying a PS4 to play one game), I immediately pre-ordered it. In the three days I’ve had it, I’ve clocked around 17 hours, but I think at least a few of them are when I left the game on and ate dinner. Regardless, I always have a lot of feelings about this game, best to get them out now while they’re fresh. Major spoilers ahead.
You play as a shaggy-haired man (boy), per usual. By 2017 it would have really been nice to be able to play as a girl character. It looks like the “support” person is a girl, as freaking always, whatever. Anyway, your main character breaks up what appears to be an attempted rape, then gets sued by the guy who’s assaulting the woman, and you get probation. Since it’s Japan (or so the logic goes) you have to transfer schools and live in the attic of a cafe this random guy owns. Thanks mom and dad! At the school you’re immediately labeled as a delinquent because … people don’t want you breaking up their rapes? Then it becomes obvious that the volleyball coach, Kamoshida, is – wait for it – a rapist! Will these rapes I have to break up never end?! The answer is no. A student friend-of-a-friend is raped by Kamoshida and attempts suicide at the school. It’s the job of you and your plucky band of outsiders to stop this monster by infiltrating his heart!
The weekend before Halloween my partner and I decided, quite last minute, to see the Tampa Ballet Theatre’s production of Dracula at Ruth Eckerd Hall. He happened to be teaching Dracula at the time (the original one, you know, the novel) and I had just been complaining that we hadn’t been to the theatre in ages. That, along with his son having never seen a professional ballet, and it was decided.
We made a mistake.
There were so, so many things wrong with the performance, which wasn’t even close to sold out, incidentally, and it’s always a little disconcerting to look around a venue and see 3/4ths of the seats open. You also have to go through a metal detector to get inside Ruth Eckerd Hall now, which is super classy.
The opening of the ballet seemed promising enough, even though the score was recorded and pieced together, it was moody. The title being projected on top of the curtains was a touch tacky, but the Dracula character slaughtering people in silhouette while a rather rather large white wolf danced beside him was intriguing. Then the lights came up. Twenty-five minutes into the ballet and there was an inexplicable twenty minute intermission. I looked at the playbill again and it said that the ballet was three acts, which seemed unnecessary, and I guess someone agreed with me because the second intermission never arrived. All told the entire ballet was about an hour, if you were wondering.