I got Amazon vouchers for Christmas from two very generous friends and with these I tend to treat as “mad money” – there are a million things I NEED but I’m not going to spend things like that on cat food dog food or shoes! So I treated myself to something that I would never buy myself – a goosedown duvet and two pillows. They were on sale too, so I got them half price.
And when I went to bed you’d have thought that I was having sex by myself by the “oooooohs” and “aaaaaahs” coming from me. At one point I was chortling manically in delight.
I. Have. Never. felt anything so luxurious. It seriously felt like angels wings, but puffy fat warm angel’s wings that mould to your body and keep every bit of you warm.
Sadly, the animals immediately clued into the deal and joined in. Lucius in the bed snoring happily by my toes and Severus curled up in my arms.
It was harder than ever to get out of bed this morning, but at least I got out with a smile on my face! thank you so much, you two. You know who you are.
BBC just ran a new 3-part adaptation of Great Expectations as part of their Dickens season and it was SO disappointing (to a purist).
But characterisation aside, the heart of the book was ripped out. Turned into a romance instead of a morality tale. Biddy was missing, Herbert’s lovely nickname for Pip, entirely gone, no Aged P, no emphasis on Jaggers’ housekeeper, even the Magwitch connection was glossed over towards the end, rushed—he appeared, he was gone in the blink of an eye. Orlick was shoe-horned in, and if there’s one plotline that could easily be expunged it’s his.
Then of course there was “artistic licence” – like Estella stripping off and doing a Darcy in a lake, then snogging the face off Pip in public…like the invention of a so-called “London Stone” which according to the programme was the point on the Thames after which Magwitch couldn’t be arrested-(wtf?) and Miss Havisham’s death lost all pathos because Pip didn’t bother to try and save her, so the forgiveness scene was fumbled.
So – yeah. Beautiful. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot to love about it, shot spectacularly and very cleverly—monochrome in Kent, and moving to colour in London, but once again—the plot is perfect, just as it is. Why do people think they can improve on it? Surely these are classics because they work as they ARE?© Copyright 2011 Erastes, All rights Reserved. Written For: Erastes