I do have a confession before I begin: Jeremy Northam is really, truly the only Mr. Knightly in my mind. It is hard for me to imagine Mr. Knightly any other way, no matter how good the actor is.

Given that, I was more than willing to try out the new Emma — love of all things Austen trumped love of Mr. Knightly — and see how they treated one of Austen’s funniest books.

And…

Sigh.

I really wanted to like this. Yes, even given my above confession, the 1996 movie version with Gwyneth Paltrow drives me a bit bonkers. I’d love a new movie version of Emma I could love and adore and laugh at. However, this wasn’t it. I did like Romola Garai as Emma; I felt she managed to capture a bit of Emma’s silliness and immaturity without being utterly annoying. Mr. Knightly, well, wasn’t Jeremy Northam, which really is no fault of his own. But, beyond that, he was much too earnest for my taste. In fact, I think that’s my biggest complaint with the whole movie: aside from adding things in which really didn’t need to be there (four hours? Really? There’s not that much in the book!) — back stories and extra scenes that I know weren’t in the book! — it just took itself way too seriously.

I know: I adore the Colin Firth Pride and Prejudice, which also takes itself more seriously than the book warrants. But, Emma is a comedy, more so than any of Austen’s other books. We’re supposed to laugh at Emma’s folly. We’re supposed to laugh at the silliness, the vanity, the insecurity, the puffed up characters. We’re supposed to dislike Mrs. Elton because she’s annoying and vain, not because she’s mean. We’re supposed to laugh at Miss Bates because she’s a ditz not roll our eyes at her because her mannerisms grate on us. Something is wrong when the funniest character is one — John Knightly — that’s barely in the book at all.

We’re not really supposed to swoon. It’s not a swooning book. It’s not a swooning story. Sure, Emma and Mr. Knightly end up together, but it’s a love born of many, many years, of a deep and lasting friendship. Which is really not swoon material. (Don’t get me wrong: I’d rather a marriage like that than a swooning one, but that’s not the point.) It’s a frivolity, a romp, a mirror for us to hold up to ourselves and say, yes, we’re Emma. Thank heavens there’s Knightly out there to love us anyway.

Verdict: The book’s best. But even though Gwyneth’s highly annoying, I think that version is a better adaption.

I first saw this movie soon after it came out in 1992. I’m not sure what I thought about it then, but I do remember being put off by the ending; it all seemed a bit abrupt and not a little melodramatic.

But, since I didn’t really remember it that well, I picked it up soon after finishing reading Howards End this time, just to see if it holds up as a movie, and as a book adaptation.

And, while the acting is brilliant — it is Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson, after all — and the costuming and the scenery is gorgeous — it is Merchant-Ivory, after all — I’m not quite sure
how I liked it as a movie.

My first impression was that if I hadn’t read the book, I wouldn’t have been quite able to follow the plot. It seemed to fall into the trap that many books from movies do: it was wonderfully acted, beautiful scenes lifted straight from the book. There was no real coherent plot arc; questions arose –like: who was that woman with Lenny? Why was he going to the Schlegels? Why don’t the Wilcoxes like Margaret? — that were answered in the book, but had no real answers in the movie. It held together by sheer force of will and personality. And the ending really is quite melodramatic, much more so than the book.

To be fair, Hubby came in about halfway through, watched the rest of it with me, and said it held up fine. Then again, he has a better memory than I do, and is better at catching subtleties in movies than I am. But, for me, it was a bit of a failure. A beautiful, well-acted failure, but a failure nonetheless.

The Top 100 Children’s Fiction Books as turned into a meme by Teacherninja, via Abby (the) Librarian and MotherReader. I’m 81/100. Not bad, not bad. There’s some books on this list that I’ve been meaning to get to for ages and ages.

How did you do?

100. The Egypt Game – Snyder (1967)
99. The Indian in the Cupboard – Banks (1980)
98. Children of Green Knowe – Boston (1954)
97. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane – DiCamillo (2006)
96. The Witches – Dahl (1983)
95. Pippi Longstocking – Lindgren (1950)
94. Swallows and Amazons – Ransome (1930)
93. Caddie Woodlawn – Brink (1935)
92. Ella Enchanted – Levine (1997)
91. Sideways Stories from Wayside School – Sachar (1978)
90. Sarah, Plain and Tall – MacLachlan (1985)
89. Ramona and Her Father – Cleary (1977)
88. The High King – Alexander (1968)
87. The View from Saturday – Konigsburg (1996)
86. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets – Rowling (1999)
85. On the Banks of Plum Creek – Wilder (1937)
84. The Little White Horse – Goudge (1946)
83. The Thief – Turner (1997)
82. The Book of Three – Alexander (1964)
81. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon – Lin (2009)
80. The Graveyard Book – Gaiman (2008)
79. All-of-a-Kind-Family – Taylor (1951)
78. Johnny Tremain – Forbes (1943)
77. The City of Ember – DuPrau (2003)
76. Out of the Dust – Hesse (1997)
75. Love That Dog – Creech (2001)
74. The Borrowers – Norton (1953)
73. My Side of the Mountain – George (1959)
72. My Father’s Dragon – Gannett (1948)
71. The Bad Beginning – Snicket (1999)
70. Betsy-Tacy – Lovelae (1940)
69. The Mysterious Benedict Society – Stewart ( 2007)
68. Walk Two Moons – Creech (1994)
67. Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher – Coville (1991)
66. Henry Huggins – Cleary (1950)
65. Ballet Shoes – Stratfeild (1936)
64. A Long Way from Chicago – Peck (1998)
63. Gone-Away Lake – Enright (1957)
62. The Secret of the Old Clock – Keene (1959)
61. Stargirl – Spinelli (2000)
60. The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle – Avi (1990)
59. Inkheart – Funke (2003)
58. The Wolves of Willoughby Chase – Aiken (1962)
57. Ramona Quimby, Age 8 – Cleary (1981)
56. Number the Stars – Lowry (1989)
55. The Great Gilly Hopkins – Paterson (1978)
54. The BFG – Dahl (1982)
53. Wind in the Willows – Grahame (1908)
52. The Invention of Hugo Cabret (2007)
51. The Saturdays – Enright (1941)
50. Island of the Blue Dolphins – O’Dell (1960)
49. Frindle – Clements (1996)
48. The Penderwicks – Birdsall (2005)
47. Bud, Not Buddy – Curtis (1999)
46. Where the Red Fern Grows – Rawls (1961)
45. The Golden Compass – Pullman (1995)
44. Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing – Blume (1972)
43. Ramona the Pest – Cleary (1968)
42. Little House on the Prairie – Wilder (1935)
41. The Witch of Blackbird Pond – Speare (1958)
40. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz – Baum (1900)
39. When You Reach Me – Stead (2009)
38. HP and the Order of the Phoenix – Rowling (2003)
37. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry – Taylor (1976)
36. Are You there, God? It’s Me, Margaret – Blume (1970)
35. HP and the Goblet of Fire – Rowling (2000)
34. The Watson’s Go to Birmingham – Curtis (1995)
33. James and the Giant Peach – Dahl (1961)
32. Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH – O’Brian (1971)
31. Half Magic – Eager (1954)
30. Winnie-the-Pooh – Milne (1926)
29. The Dark Is Rising – Cooper (1973)
28. A Little Princess – Burnett (1905)
27. Alice I and II – Carroll (1865/72)
26. Hatchet – Paulsen (1989)
25. Little Women – Alcott (1868/9)
24. HP and the Deathly Hallows – Rowling (2007)
23. Little House in the Big Woods – Wilder (1932)
22. The Tale of Despereaux – DiCamillo (2003)
21. The Lightening Thief – Riordan (2005)
20. Tuck Everlasting – Babbitt (1975)
19. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Dahl (1964)
18. Matilda – Dahl (1988)
17. Maniac Magee – Spinelli (1990)
16. Harriet the Spy – Fitzhugh (1964)
15. Because of Winn-Dixie – DiCamillo (2000)
14. HP and the Prisoner of Azkaban – Rowling (1999)
13. Bridge to Terabithia – Paterson (1977)
12. The Hobbit – Tolkien (1938)
11. The Westing Game – Raskin (1978)
10. The Phantom Tollbooth – Juster (1961)
9. Anne of Green Gables – Montgomery (1908)
8. The Secret Garden – Burnett (1911)
7. The Giver -Lowry (1993)
6. Holes – Sachar (1998)
5. From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler – Koningsburg (1967)
4. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe – Lewis (1950)
3. Harry Potter #1 – Rowling (1997)
2. A Wrinkle in Time – L’Engle (1962)
1. Charlotte’s Web – White (1952)

A Tale from Camelot
by Nancy Springer
ages: 12+
First sentence: “Seated at the high table, with the emerald necklace her husband had given her resting on her half-naked bosom, the emerald tiara nestled in her dark hair, Lady Igraine tried not to answer the leer of the king.”

As many of you know, I love my King Arthur books. I love the different aspects of the myth that each individual author brings to the collective whole. I love the familiarity of the story; I know which elements are essential, which elements are trivial, and I delight in knowing how it’s all going to play out.

But, I’m wondering if I’m getting a bit burned out – even though I really don’t read more than one or two a year — because I was highly bored with this one.

Sure, it takes the myth from Morgan’s point of view; telling her story, about how she became Morgan le Fey. Aspects of the tale were woven in and through the story — Merlin, Uther and Igraine were there — but it was Morgan’s tale of how she longed for love, and yet was unwilling to accept it as its own thing when it finally came in her life. It was a choppy story, bouncing through time and place, never really settling down into something one could sink their teeth into. I’m generally not one for wordiness, but this one felt too much the other way: too pared down, not enough meat for the story to hang on. Everything felt like a caricature; as if Springer expected us to know who all these people were, and that we would fill in the blanks for her.

Perhaps this is a corollary to it being pared down, but it also felt rushed. I wanted more of Morgan’s life. We got her childhood through her time at Avalon — which really wasn’t the Avalon of my mind. Not that that’s a bad thing. — and her coming into power. But, I wanted it to go beyond, to see how it all would play out in Springer’s imagination.

Disappointing.

On the upside, though, it made me want to reread Mists of Avalon.

by Natalie Standiford
ages: 14+
First sentence: “Goebbels materialized on the back patio, right before we moved to Baltimore, and started chewing through the wicker love seat.”
Support your local independent bookstore: buy it there!

The jacket-flap of this book says it’s for those who have experienced “the wonderful, treacherous, consuming, meaningful world of true friendship”. So, I think I expected something profound, something deep, something… less angsty. But then, it is a teen novel, and angst is the name of the game.

Bea Szabo has moved to Baltimore for her senior year. She’s moved a lot — her dad is a serial one-year college appointment professor — and so has some expectations about her new school. Then the alphabet conspires — they have to sit in alphabetical order for Assembly — to put her next to Jonah Tate, aka Ghost Boy, who hasn’t made a new friend since third grade. See, his mother and twin brother died in a car wreck, and he’s basically shut down. Until he meets Bea. Together these two loners find some kind of solace together in their not-quite-boyfriend/girlfriend-but-somehow-more-than-just-friends. There’s ups — the late-night call-in show that they both listen to, or the trip to Ocean City instead of going to prom. And there’s downs — if you’re not really boyfriend/girlfriend, is it okay to go out with other people? Not to mention the fights and disagreements.

Standiford takes us on an interesting, if angst-filled, journey with these two. There are humorous moments, and the overall story arc, especially involving Jonah’s family, was intriguing. Unfortunately, it was one of those books where I, personally, couldn’t divorce myself from my age and experience: I kept shaking my head because the two of them acted like the kids they are. Sure, I empathized: who hasn’t had an up-and-down relationship with someone, wondering if they’ll talk to you, wanting to help but being powerless. I understand feeling deeply, wanting more, and I even understand heartbreak. I just thought this all was a bit overmuch.

I have nothing wrong with angst. But then, too much of a good thing is always bad.