Reading log: Pamela Service’s Being of Two Minds, an older YA novel that I picked up at a recent library discard sale. As a result of something to do with having very similar brain patterns, two fourteen-year-olds have, since birth, had spells where they lapse into unconsciousness and end up as a sort of psychic passenger in the other person’s brain. Connie is American; Rudy is the prince of Thulgaria, a small Ruritanian-type country. Neither wants to reveal their secret to doctors or family for fear that the doctors will find some way to stop the episodes, which both of them enjoy. Matters come to a head, however, when Rudy is kidnapped (some factions in the country want a different path for Thulgarian politics, and others fear that Rudy’s mysterious will leave him unfit to rule) and Connie can relay information. Not as charming as my favorite Service books, and the ending wraps up entirely too neatly, but kind of fun nonetheless.

In movie watching, Bride and Prejudice was simply wonderful. You don’t get many of that type of film anymore, with lots of color and spectacle done unironically and cheerfully. Agreed with kirbyfest, who pointed out that they succeeded in making the Lydia character sympathetic, and gave the Collins character unexpected depth as well. Also really liked the way they presented joy and sensuality and intimacy without being explicit at all. It suited this movie and its source material.

Also of the good: the way the spectacle continued throughout the movie, not just in India. The colorful boats in London, the beach scene in America: joy everywhere. I remember reading a review of My Big Fat Greek Wedding once, where the author talked about how in a marriage between people from two different cultures, both cultures have traditions to bring to the table. And yet in many fictional representations--I forget whether the author said Greek Wedding did this well or badly; nor have I seen the movie--there's this conception that it’s the side perceived as more ethnic that carries all the traditions, that the more mainstream culture is beige and blah, a blank slate to be written over. Which ends up being sort of patronizing to both sides, really, ignoring any richness in the more mainstream culture and making the more ethnic culture seem quaint and cute.

Darcy wasn’t my type, really, but that was about my only quibble with the movie. Oh, and one moment at the end that made complete sense thematically but also hit my over-the-top meter. It made sense that we see Darcy playing the drum, because he’s hung back from the music that represents life and celebration and joy throughout the movie, and so seeing him *participate* was sort of necessary. Yet something there struck me as kind of cheesetastic. Ah well.