True Currency
I don’t remember which weekend it was, or even which month. All I know is that it was a Saturday night, and we were at home - me, my housemates canoe and snaz, and our mates munkey and books. I got thoroughly walloped during movie trivia, not just by munkey who had a score to settle, but by the entire group, despite being the only one present who had not partaken in any of the devils a) liquid and/or b) herbs of medicinal qualities. Feeling rather sulky, I asked to be read to, a luxury I got into during the 'eyes o' doom' fiasco. Somehow we all ended up in my (mercifully clean for once) bedroom. I snuggled on the bed next to Booksy, who spooned the Canoe, while sweet Munk perched on my swivel chair and Snaz propped up near the headboard with my book of choice, ‘Little Women'. This is very rough sketch of what followed, only with less vicious interjection and fewer prolonged intervals of juvenile giggling.
Snaz: ‘Laurie's bashfulness soon wore off…’
Jelly: OH. Laurie!
Canoe: I love you, Laurie!
Munk: Is that—?
Snaz: Christian Bale. Floppy hair, adorable. ‘Jo took several good looks at him...’
Jelly: He’s hot, Jo, fucking hot. Pash!
Canoe: Before it’s too late.
Snaz: ‘Meg reclined, with the rubbers well-hidden…’
Jelly: Hahaha. ‘Rubbers.’ I bet they were well-hidden.
Books: Hahaha.
Snaz: ‘…the girls called them their [giggle] muffs, for they had no others…’
All: Muffs! *giggle uncontrollably*
Snaz: ‘…and found them very comforting [giggle] to put their hands in on cold mornings.’
Munk: *snorts*
All:*giggle uncontrollably*
Canoe: In my Agatha Christie book, Miss Marple keeps referring to herself as ‘a very clever pussy.’
All: *giggle uncontrollably*
Snaz: Quiet, quiet! I’m reading. It’s the description of all the girls. ‘Meg…fond of luxury… longed for pretty things…’
Books: Er. She reminds me a bit of myself.
Jelly: Yeah, but not the girl in the movie ‘cos she was like, blah.
Snaz: ‘… longed for gay friends…’
All: Hahaha, gay!
Snaz: ‘ Jo…loved to read… restless spirit, always getting into scrapes…’
All: *feel the collective love for Jo*
Snaz: ‘Beth…bashful…faithful… housewifely little creature.’
Books: Lame Beth. Fuck off and die already.
Jelly: No! Poor Beth! She’s the only one who like, feeds the Germans…
Canoe: And then she gets the fever…
Jelly: It was kind of creepy though, in the movie how Claire Danes smiled when she died.
Snaz: Ok, shh! ’Then… there was Amy—’
Canoe: OH FUCK!
Jelly: FUCK HER!
Snaz: Yeah, FUCK YOU, Amy!
Books: She’s all innocent, ‘Will you kiss me, Laurie?’
Snaz: ‘The greatest trial of her life was her nose.’
Books: Her nose? SHUT UP, BITCH!
Jelly: Get some perspective Amy, go visit the Germans.
Canoe: And DIE.
Snaz: ‘When she was a baby, Jo had accidently dropped her in the coal hold…’
All: HURRAH FOR JO!
Snaz: ‘Spoilt… vain… selfish…’
Munk: GOD. Fuck off, Amy.
Jelly: I can’t believe Christian Bale chooses her. He settles, man, he fucking settles.
Canoe: But he couldn’t have Jo, he had her up on a pedestal.
Jelly: Well, she could get down! Instead she’s like, ‘Oh, funny accent guy,’ and starts kissing Gabriel Byrne in the rain even though he’s about, like, 100.
Munkey: Have you actually read this, Jelly, or just seen the Winona Ryder movie?
Jelly: Skip to some action!
Snaz: I’m trying but – it’s kind of slow. ‘Jo had a [snorts] queer time with Aunt March…’
All: Queer! *giggle uncontrollably*
Snaz: ‘…trying not to be saucy.’
Munk: Be saucy Jo, be saucy and queer!
Snaz: *does a voice for Amy*
Canoe: I love your Amy voice. I like her better now.
Snaz: ‘Beth gave the old man some money…’
Jelly: See, nice Beth. She’s a humanitarian.
Snaz: 'Marmee… blah blah moral, blah blah sermonising, blah blah blessings…’ [pause] Christ, what a sanctimonious wench of a mother.
Jelly: I like it though, when Amy gets the strap—
All: Hurrah, the strap, strap Amy, strap her good! etc
Jelly: And Susan Sarandon gets all fired up and goes after the teacher! [pause] In the movie.
Snaz: So... Jo quotes Uncle Tom in a very non-pc way and then that’s the end of the chapter.
Canoe: *zzzzz*
Jelly: Sleepy Canoe.
Books: No wonder.
Jelly: It wasn’t boring. Munk?
Munk: It was sweet.
Books: But she’s not funny like Austen.
Snaz: *says something about Wuthering Heights*
Books: Oh, bloody Bronte.
Jelly: You don’t like—HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE--? Get off the bed before you say bad things about Jane Eyre.
[pause]
Munk: I can’t believe we just did this.
Jelly: What, made you listen to a girl’s book?
Munk: No, it’s Saturday night…
Snaz: And we’re lying in bed, stoned, reading Louisa M Alcott aloud. [pause] Jelly, can I please request that you don’t—
Jelly: Hahaha—
Munk: Is this going to be written about on your –
Jelly: Hahaha—
Books: What are you looking for?
Jelly: A pen to make notes. Who laughed first when she said ‘muffs’, again?
The Jelly Verdict
The book is nauseously pious in parts, and drags in others, but it has great characters. And there was such nostalgia in hearing some of the more skilfully rendered moments read aloud: like Jo and Laurie’s first meeting, where they secretly ‘dance grandly’ in the empty hall so no one will see her burnt dress, the description of Aunt March's library as ‘a wilderness of books in which Jo could wander where she liked', or the observation that there are ‘many Beth’s in the world… living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the… sweet sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind.’
And yes, the evening holds its own amongst the heavy competition vying for 'Least Cool Night of My Life,’ but as Lester Bangs says in Almost Famous, ‘The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool.’
Ps – Fuck. Amy.
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17 comments:
Honestly, the three of you girls in that house is like nerd cubed. More than nerd cubed. You're like a nerd Voltron, each with your own distinct nerdery that would be formidable enough on its own, but when you combine, your nerdiness is infinitely more nerdy than the sum of your nerdy parts.
I love coming to your house.
Oh Jelly...
I just laughed so hard I think I broke myself.
:)
You're like a nerd Voltron, each with your own distinct nerdery that would be formidable enough on its own, but when you combine, your nerdiness is infinitely more nerdy than the sum of your nerdy parts.
How nerdy is THAT?!?!
Peter, I think you've actually trumped the formidable nerdiness of the "cubed Voltrons," whatever the hell they are.
Your brand of "nerdery" eclipses all other individual manifestations of that particular condition, and yes, I'm making fun of your writing.
Maybe I'm just annoyed because I'm not invited to the house... and because I'm back in Melbourne until Saturday and the weather sucks balls.
That was an awesome thing to do on a Saturday night. Hilarious. You need to start a double-entendre reading group...
Lud, Miss Jelly, I'd hate to think what you'd do with 'Moby Dick'.
Is anyone else enjoying the random yet delicious juxtaposition of Little Women and Voltron?
Alcott: Defender of the Universe
I couldn't help myself. All this talk of Voltron had my hyper-nerd senses tingling. I had to officially reminisce...
ACTIVATE INTERLOCK!
I used to be so deeply in love with Lance (red lion). Clearly I was a fan of punning even as a child. I think he was my second major crush, right after (but never replacing) Kermit.
If we ladies of Casa del Nerd each represent a Voltron lion then Canoe is totally Princess Allura. Pink, pretty and precise. And to her enemies - easy to underestimate.
Oh dear. How nerdly of me.
Oh, and Jelly - loved the post, despite my previous efforts at begging you not to go public. Given how eager I am to celebrate the joys of Voltron, it's perfectly clear that I don't have a reputation to protect anyway.
MEGA-THRUSTERS ARE GO!
That Voltron website is totally unreal. Is it me, or is the be-mulleted Keith (Black Lion Pilot) a dead ringer for Joey Perrone in his YTT days?
I had a similar moment with my former housemate Lorelei when we both discovered we considered ourselves to be combos of Jo with a little bit of Amy (the young Amy, not when she grows up and steals Jo's man: That. Bitch.) when we were young. As in Jo with curls and a love of painting, and sometimes vanity. We are aware of our faults!
ps By the way, what Saturday can I come over to your house? From this account, you live in THE best house ever.
pps Jane Eyre rules. ALL Brontes rule! Even the lesser known Anne. Booky better take that back. That is NO way for a published author to speak. Specially a female one. Saucy pussy.
ppps oh and Beth and Meg SUCK. Damn boring do-gooders and sissy wimps.
I do have to interject here and praise the manly goodness of Gabriel Byrne. Sure, he's better dressed as a musketeer - what man wouldn't be? - but come on, people.
Gabriel Byrne.
The ultimate sexy priest, with the eyes and the hair and the Into the West and the Usual Suspects and the accent and the "I could betray my king, but I can't betray... my son" and the doomed love and oh my dear God the eyes and the wondrous Irishness and ooooh.
I mean, Christian Bale is kinda cute, but he slaughters people with a chain saw - and that, to me, would be a little bit of a relationship no-go.
be my jo, jelly, be my jo ...
r
Such fond memories Jelly.
sponge girl, I'm totally with you on the Gabriel Byrne thing. He's so terribly manly. And the priest thing, god, how sexy is that.
Snaz, that Voltron site is so cool. I completely understand the crush on the animated character. My first was the prince from Sleeping Beauty. *sigh*
So the sophisticated commentariat ignored it, and so it was left to me to point out the glaringly obvious entendre potential of MEGA-THRUSTERS ARE GO!
Hey, my favourite joke for the last couple of weeks has been:
"A woman walks into a bar and asks for a double entendre, so the barman gives her one."
Haven't read the thing, but yer blog is always worth a stop.
Great stuff, as always.
bwahaha, etc...!
and that is why you are the funniest blogger ever jellyfish. I love it. And for the record, I thought it was kind of creepy too when Clare Danes smiled while she died in the movie.
i love it
I just finished reading March by Geraldine Brooks, which takes on the lives of Mr March and Marmee during the timeframe of Little Women. Most of the reviews concentrate on its graphic evocation of the horrors of the Civil War, but what I really liked is that Brooks shows that Marmee is passionate and resentful and knows full well that she is stuck inside the box of the saintly feminine mystique. Marmee's human after all!
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