Book Review: The Secret History

I was sitting here on my parents' couch (because I'm 2 years post-grad and still live with them) and thinking about how pathetic, disappointing and fun! it would be to post a book review on this long forgotten blog. Yay regression!!!


The Secret History by Donna Tartt
My rating: 3.5 of 5 stars (read June 2016)

You know that stretch of time between the last chapter and the epilogue that an author typically ignores because if she did write about it, the reader would get bored and stop reading before the novel was over? Okay well the last 300 pages of this novel was comprised of nothing but that boring stretch of time. Only a strong sense of curiosity deeply rooted in bewilderment kept me reading.

Donna Tartt graduated college and was like, "Now what do I do with this pointless Bachelor's in Classics literature, my irrelevant knowledge of Ancient Greek allusions, my extreme superiority complex, and my untapped potential? Oh!! I'll write a pretentious novel about pompous and overly-privileged college students in tweed jackets who engage in Dionysian debauchery in the pursuit of “enlightenment” (which sounds interesting on the book blurb, but I promise you, I’ll somehow make even a hedonistic ritual sound excessively dull). I'll reveal the main plot point on the first page and the rest of the book will be proof of how easy it is to fill 500 pages with nothing, devoid of character development, rising action and meaning." Not one of the characters is even remotely likable. In fact they're all uniquely insufferable and aggressively boring. Their competition to determine which of the six could be the most melancholic and supremely apathetic elitist is more than enough to send even the most hyperactive seven-year-old right to sleep.

Despite all of this, I never once considered not finishing this book. For whatever reason, Tartt had me. No matter how tedious the prose became, no matter how plotless the last half of the novel was, I was still overwhelmingly cloaked in a feeling of suspense, still held at rapt attention trying to figure out what could possibly be hidden in the remaining pages. And even though I despised the characters, there is a huge difference between what makes a good character and what makes a good person. And they're usually mutually exclusive (lol). Just because they disgusted me, doesn't mean they don't have value. Their terrible qualities gave me the desire to hate-read the novel to the end. It is for these reasons I'm giving The Secret History 3.5 stars.

Finishing this novel is a feat. The last page should come with a free ice cream cone coupon because you deserve it. I had to pay for mine, so I'm a little bitter.


View all my reviews

The cats of Hogwarts.

(Originally published July 17, 2012 6:09 PM)


I've been doing a lot of unnecessary thinking.

And a lot of math.

When asked during an interview, JK Rowling once stated that there are about a thousand students studying at Hogwarts at any given time. And that's nice to assume, because it's very easy to picture Hogwarts as a huge, bustling city of its own. But given the information in the books, I don't think this is accurate.

There's a lot of disagreeing evidence, but the consensus is that there are many less students. For instance, if there were a thousand students at Hogwarts, there would be 250 students per house and 36 per year in each house (assuming that the split is fairly even). I don't know about you, but I distinctly remember exactly eight students mentioned to be in Harry's year in Gryffindor: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Lavender, Dean, Seamus and Parvati. Did she just forget to mention the other 28 students? And furthermore, in the books, during a double potions class, there are 20 cauldrons set up on desks: ten for Gryffindor, ten for Slytherin (Bear with me. This is going somewhere, I promise).

This suggests that there are about 10 students per year in each house, which would add up to 280 students total. But that's a drastic reduction from JK Rowling's guess of one thousand, so I'm willing to be lenient, and propose that in any given house, the number of students per year could potentially vary between 10 and 20. Which (using the higher limit) could bring the final total up to 560 students at Hogwarts.

Phew! I'm out of figurative breath. Sorry that took so long.

So basically, 560 total students. Got that? Kay good. So now it's time to get down to the real point of this post. The cats.

We know that students are allowed to bring one pet to school with them. This pet can be either an owl, cat, or toad.

It would probably be safe to assume that given the choice, most students would rather have an owl because they seem to be the most useful. But the school provides owls for student use, so a personal owl isn't absolutely necessary. And owls are probably more expensive than the other two types of animals. So using this information, I estimate that about 30 percent of the students (170 out of 560) own owls.

Only one student's toad is mentioned in the book, and we know this to be Trevor, who belongs to Neville. This toad is quite a lot of trouble for Neville, for it is forever running away. And Neville, for a good portion of the series, is pretty lame. The fact that he has a toad enhances this. No one chooses to have a toad. You get stuck with a toad. Considering this, I have concluded that maybe 20 students have toads (and I think I'm being generous).

There are probably a fair amount who don't own pets at all. I think about 180 students thought that a pet would be too much of a burden, which leaves 190 students...

Of course, we must consider those students who don't follow rules and smuggle in other pets not mentioned on the school supplies list. Ron has Scabbers. Lee Jordan has a tarantuala. I think it's safe to assume that a couple Slytherins brought their snakes. And a rabbit or turtle wouldn't be too hard to hide. So maybe 40 students brought contraband animals.

Which leaves us with 150 students. One. Hundred. Fifty. students could potentially own cats. There could potentially be 150 cats roaming around Hogwarts at any time.  This is a lot of cats.


Cats are well-liked throughout the world and rank sufficiently higher than a lot of animals on the "cuteness scale". I don't think this number is far-fetched.

So think about it. We know that cats are basically allowed to go wherever they please. Just look at Crookshanks and his many a midnight stroll with Sirius/Snuffles, the dog. Cats can roam freely without a second look. I don't know about you, but I find this to be a cause for concern.

Let me just tell you, when there is a stray cat on my college campus, it's like Christmas. Everyone knows the cat. The cat is given 300 different names. The cat is picked up, pet, fed, even taken inside the buildings.

People love cats.

If there were 150 cats just prowling Hogwarts' halls, students would never get to class. They would sit all day playing with the cats and conjuring up mice for the cats to chase. There would be cats in the library, cats in the Great Hall, cats in classrooms, bathrooms, kitchens… Cats in the astronomy tower, cats in Hagrid's pumpkin patch, cats in the Room of Requirement… And everywhere you go, you would have to pet the cats. Because cats control peoples' minds.

And the bigger dilemma is, people would trip over the cats.

I know Hogwarts is a big place, but with 150 cats spread out all over it, you are bound to walk past at least five in a day. And if you were in a hurry, and had to rush to Potions because Professor Snape hinted that if you were late one more time he would slip some swelling solution into your pumpkin juice, it's not impossible to imagine that you would run by a few cats without noticing them. And because cats are stealthy and like to cause humans pain, they would probably strategically place themselves directly in your path. And then you would fall to your death (or extreme injury) and break your glass vials and brass scales, and the cat would walk away unscathed, because magical cats really do have nine lives.


We know this has happened because I spent way too long proving it.


So we can't overlook the cold hard truth: Harry has tripped over the cats.


And I'm a little outraged knowing this. Because JK Rowling never thinks to mention it.

I'm no "boy who lived" so I guess my problems aren't as "pressing" as Harry's, but if I tripped over three cats daily on my way to Charms, you can be sure I would write about it in the story of my life. I think that's something worth mentioning. Even if you just alluded to the monontony of it to add a bit of contrast like,

"Harry couldn't believe it. He was the seventh horcrux. Voldmort's soul had latched on to him. He had to die. But he would make sure he died for everyone he loved. Nothing but pure determination filled his mind as he tripped over yet another cat on his way into the forest to meet Voldemort and his last few breaths."

I don't know, I would have appreciated the honesty.

Feeling negligent.

I don't know if I feel like myself. But I don't know if I don't feel like myself, either.

Whenever I try to take control of a part of my life that was weighing me down in some way, I always let the other parts slip a little due to negligence. I'm like one of those crazy, over-stressed moms who's just trying to settle a fight between two of her kids, while her toddler is in her highchair spilling milk and spaghetti sauce everywhere, and the doorbell is ringing, and the oven is telling her that the chicken is done, and also she has stress at work on her mind, and has to actually be in a conference call in like five minutes (because my simile-mom is does it all).

I mean it's not that bad. And not exactly equivalent. Because the difference is that my hypothetical mom has things happening to her, whereas I bring hardships onto myself.

Motivation is an elusive beast. And if you're lucky enough to capture him, he's hard to keep.

I finally feel healthy and happy about myself, but I also feel like I'm letting responsibilities and relationships rot on the side. I'm always looking for a balance, and I just can't seem to figure out the formula. I've been trying to find it my whole life. I think this means I never will, right? I mean, isn't that the whole point of living? Trying to get to that point when you can actually smile knowing you finally figured it all out?

But it shouldn't be that way. We're always looking towards the future for answers and comfort, but shouldn't we be looking within ourselves instead? I guess that's scary because we don't always like what we find there. And in those cases, unhealthy ways of coping creep in without us realizing. Their insidious onset leaves us more than vulnerable when storms from the external world are thrown at us without warning. The positive feedback from the hurt, pain, and defenselessness just cause another domino to fall, taking down another with it.

It's a lot easier watching everything collapse than it is to set it all up again.

You have to try though. That's where humanity lies, I think; in the struggle. In the effort that seems futile because you're alone.

Do you ever notice how everyone is always talking, but never saying anything? It's a static, low murmur that creates the background noise to everything. It emphasizes that feeling of loneliness, doesn't it?

And that loneliness makes the trying so much harder to justify.


But you're not really alone. You may know that, but you have to believe it. And once you do, I think that's when you find the life you've been looking for.


I think.

Give it here. I'll fix it, J.R.R. Tolkien.

Twenty-one days ago I started to watch The Hobbit, and today I finished it. I guess the first thing you have to understand about me and the Lord of The Rings franchise is that we both think the other is ridiculous. That doesn't mean we don't appreciate one another. It just...we think that each other can be a little self-indulgent at times. Or all times.

It takes me weeks to finish a LOTR film; enormous amounts of rewinding, annoying pleas for explanation from those who were unfortunately chosen to watch it with me, and subtitles. We cannot forget the subtitles.

In order for me to relate to, understand, and keep track of the many characters and endless plot lines, I have to make the story my own. I have to find a way to fit it within the confines of my own personal reality.

I do this by renaming the characters whose names are incoherent. And also by giving the less important characters interesting histories so that they don't feel left out.

Friends, Carina and Shelby helped me tailor each name to specifically portray each character's finer attributes.

Let's start with the original trilogy. This is just a smattering chosen from all 9,000 characters.

LOTR Family Photo Album: As Seen through My Eyes

Now let's move on to The Hobbit. 

Hot Fred.
 I think this one is self explanatory.

Hot George.
Slightly hotter than Fred. And it's possible Fred resents him for this, but it hasn't manifested in any real, domestic quarrel. Yet.

Muskrat.
 Lives among lesser-known species of rodents during seasons of non-dragon-hunting.

Vast Helga.
Does not know where he is. But loves indie films. And hockey.

Small Helga.
As you may notice, Small Helga is only slightly smaller than Vast Helga. This may have been an oversight when he was christened. It's confusing and unclear.
Small Helga's favorite food is salt water taffy.

Common Arthur.
Common Arthur may have contributed to the above confusion with Small Helga. Because I think, originally, he was the true Small Helga. But when it was discovered that he was far more common than someone named Helga, the Small Helga name had to go to the only other redhead.
Common Arthur is very common. He is faceless and sad.
Help us help Common Arthur.
Donations accepted.

 Whitebeard.
Has that same disease as Robin Williams in that film, Jack, where he ages prematurely. So, though he looks roughly 167 years old, Whitebeard is only 28.

Uncle Blackbeard.
Divine baker of casseroles.

Damn, we missed one.
This dwarf is special because he is utterly forgettable. I think he really likes oil paintings?

Percival Goatface.
Percival Goatface grew up in a pine tree without a family. Does not like country music or popsicles.

Starfish.
Helps braid Vast Helga's hair every morning.
It should also be mentioned that Starfish always wins 1st prize at the annual flower show for his magnificent petunias.

Dobby.
Used to be a pirate, but has traded in his hardened criminal past for a brighter future. Has recently discovered his love of theater. Catch him as Feste in Twelfth Night this summer.

Also, shout out to my favorite character of The Hobbit, dragon who just wants to sit in piles of gold coins for hundreds of years. Because that is hilarious. His only aspiration. He just wants to sit on coins. Amazing.

"And straight on to" mourning the loss of your freedom.

So I'm going to continue this series of exploring the sexist themes of Disney movies. Because, why not? I always enjoy writing when I'm procrastinating a larger task at hand. So. Okay.


1951. Peter Pan

It's quite hard to defend accusations of Disney's blatant sexism and racism when citing this movie as an example. I mean, true, Peter Pan was originally written by J.M. Barrie, but still. We could have done without the "What Makes the Red Man Red?" song.

Wendy. I always hated Wendy, but I was wrong to. Not only was she basically a live-in servant to her brothers (I might be exaggerating) but she was brought to Neverland by the boy she had crush on to be his friends' MOTHER. Because, as a woman, that's all she's good for anyway.

Women tear each other down in this movie. It's so unhealthy. Wendy, the Mermaids, Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily are all in love with the same arrogant, misogynistic, pointy-eared creep in tights. Which would be fine if they had a reason. But they don't. He happens to be the main character, so they MUST have him. And he plays them all. Sure he's "brave," but is he really? He pulls pranks on dim-witted pirates, does that make a person courageous? Disney declares, "yes, definitely."

But we can't blame these women, entirely, for their actions.

I think Peter Pan might be a sociopath. He has death-gripping control over these women and doesn't seem to be the least bit phased by the negative consequences of his actions. He thinks himself invincible and free of all blame. Nothing and no one can touch him. Enchanting manipulation holds the girls captive and is the reason they lash out at each other instead of banding together to take Pan down.

I think we all need to question, what is pixie dust, really, and does it contain some sort of hallucinogen? If so, he wields a dangerous weapon.

I have concluded that there are very little redeeming qualities to this movie.

So this is L--my only way out?

I don't know if specified in the last post, so I guess I should probably explain the whole reason why I'm even ranting about Disney characters. It's mostly because Disney has been accused of sexism (by me and many, many others) for superficial, and at best, slightly misogynistic characters and plot lines in their movies, especially the early ones. And these accusations are not unfounded for a myriad of reasons. However, being who I am, I've got to question it. All of it. So here goes.



1950. Cinderella.

Normally I am morally opposed to the I'm just going to sit here and wish that my true love will save me one day, and if he does, I will marry him at first sight and then, and only then, will my life mean something sort of themes because I find them impossibly sexist, ill-advised and insulting. However, in Cinderella's and Snow White's cases, you have to be a bit more understanding.

When it all comes down to it, these are battered women. Now, of course their abusers are actually their stepmothers and not brutish, overly-aggressive cavemen, but nonetheless, each have been terribly mistreated by people they really have no choice but to live with. It's imperative to their health and safety that they get out of these toxic environments. A complete stranger who can offer some sort of refuge definitely resides on the greener side of the fence. And, hey, he might as well be a prince.

I mean, let's look at their list of no choices:

1. Die

2. Live


You can't fault them for picking the option that includes not only less chores but potential happiness even if it is abrupt, slightly insane and rash. It's called survival.

(It's okay if you're still skeptical.)


Although Cinderella isn't the strongest role model, at least she's resourceful. And she's brave. She doesn't let her slave-driver captors ruin her spirit.



Buuuut, she is also incredibly lucky. Having the ability to make a Fairy Godmother appear out of nowhere when you most need her is a talent that few have been able to posses.


(But don't forget that Cinderella and Snow White both have weird and somewhat unhealthy relationships with animals. We still can't eliminate the very real possibility of a psych disorder in both cases.)

Snow White and the Seven Reasons You're Glad You're Not A Disney Character from 1937

(I actually don't have a list of 7 reasons, that was just supposed to be a clever title. Sorry for lying.)

I'm going to begin this post like I haven't been away from blogging for a month.

So I wrote a post a while ago (has it really been 3 years?) about Disney Princesses and how they perpetuate the patriarchal oppression that we females try so hard to stamp out (I say that like I'm some revolutionary activist instead of what I actually am, which is a sad, hypocritical 20-something perpetual student drinking sweet tea on her bed).

I actually hate that post because it's poorly written and doesn't fully express my opinion on all things Female-Disney-Characters-related. So I hope to correct that. Because I have nothing better to do.... Oh wait.


So tonight I'm going to be more critical, and also more forgiving (is that possible?). That post was sadly and weirdly outdated (why did I leave out so many characters?). We are going to talk about  ALL of the most popular female Disney characters. Not just the princesses, because, honestly, excluding the other characters just because they're not royal, makes me just as bad as the people who created them. Wow. Just call me Lorde.


(kidding)




This post would be bible-scroll-length if I tried to talk about all the characters at the same time. So we are going to split these up.

Okay. Chronologically, probably?


1937. Snow White.

I wasn't very understanding last time. But now that I've actually thought about her situation, there are a few things I want to explore. First off, this story takes place some time in the Middle Ages or shortly thereafter, right? This was a time in the world when psych medicine, along with all medicine (except for snake oil?) was nonexistent. There was no Seroquel or mental screenings. She had few resources. So, knowing this, I'm completely aware that Snow White had no way of treating or even knowing she had some sort of mental disorder.

She didn't know any better, guys. It's okay. If your brain never progressed past the mental capacity of a 5-year-old, you too would listen to the birds and decide it was okay to just walk into a small cottage full of sexually repressed, middle-aged men, and cook and clean for them. I don't begrudge her these actions. She had no way of knowing.

I mean, years of abuse can emotionally and mentally stunt a person. There's no room for growth when you fear your very existence. Maslow's hierarchy, people. (Am I getting too far into this?)

Alternatively, I've also considered that she knew exactly what she was doing, and did these things because literally anything would be better than living with a crazy witch who wanted to kill her. I mean, in the end, marrying a complete stranger, who may or may not really be a Prince (Yea, I bet you want to show her your "throne" and "big scepter", alright.) was her only way out. Resourceful, no?

So she's either suffering from disease or completely cunning. It's impossible to know without accurate medical records.

Delving into Cinderella's life and motives will also help us to understand Snow White. And that's coming soon.

Until then,


Psychotically Yours,

Lex


(there are about 32 things I should have done instead of write this)

There are no moose in Virginia,

contrary to what Disney might think.

I found this map. This is where the moose really are.

I've been watching Pocahontas today. And I have enjoyed myself immensely. My favorite thing about watching old Disney movies is the huge ego boost you get from understanding certain parts you didn't when you were little (i.e. like knowing what the Virginia Company actually was or actually listening to the parts where they talk instead of just singing along to the musical portions). It's a great way to make yourself feel so very intelligent. You also get this great (false) sense of superiority when you point out the silly things Disney put in the movies that aren't quite accurate or blatantly wrong. This is a great way to spend a lazy Sunday and make you feel better about yourself.

Ever noticed how John Smith had an American English accent before actual Americans?

Original Hipster

He was from E.N.G.L.A.N.D. Mel Gibson was perhaps not the best choice for this part.

We're not even going to talk about the fact that whole premise is based upon the tiniest portions of almost-but-not-really-true facts, and on the whole is widely historically inaccurate. Because that's too easy and boring.

But can we just imagine, for a second, if your grandmother was a Willow tree? I mean. That would be amazing. Unless someone cut her down, she might never die.

She will always be there to give you boy advice.

Besides Grandmother Willow, there is one thing of Pocahontas' of which I will forever be jealous. Yes, it's the magical wind leaves that help her immediately understand a foreign language. How convenient would that be?????

I need those leaves.

I'm going to The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It's on Netflix.

i learn how to do turnpike.

I'm not prepared to live in this world without supervision from sort of authority. When it comes to the set of skills some have dubbed street smarts, I'm literally braindead. When I have to figure out how to do something in the "real world," my brain responds back with DOES NOT COMPUTE.

Last week I had to attend this meeting for my internship in a city that it is about 40 minutes from where I live. With things like the internet and GPS, you would think this shouldn't be too hard. And if you are a normal, fully-functioning adult, you would be right.

So I was driving along, following my print-out directions, when a certain turn confused me. I freaked out a little and turned on the GPS on my phone (which I should have had on the entire time, but I was trying to save the battery). So I turned around, got back on the highway and before I knew it, I missed the exit. So I kept driving. And then I missed the next exit. And then I finally got off on the next exit after that. Then I saw this flashing yellow sign that read PLEASE TAKE TICKET.


Ticket? Ticket for what? Do I have to pay for something? I don't want to pay for something.


But I got the ticket.



So I kept driving. I drove 14 miles out of my way before I realized that I was only driving those 14 miles out of my way, so that I could turn back around, because there apparently wasn't a better way to get to this meeting…says my GPS.


So I turned around and headed back those stupid 14 miles.


By that time, I knew I was going to be late to my meeting, when I was originally going to be 20 minutes early. So I was panicking about that when I saw another flashing sign. PAY TOLL.


Toll? Toll for what? Does this ticket cover the cost of the toll? I don't want to pay for something.


So I pulled up to this booth and the gate in front of me closed down. Is there such thing as a ticket container? Where would a ticket container be located? A ticket collector maybe? But I saw no sign of human life. It was all machine.

It looked like the person in the car in front of me didn't even do anything. So I thought maybe the gate would open on its own. So I just sat there for a second. Waiting. Willing the gate to magically open or spontaneously combust. And I wondered if I would be stuck on that stupid strip of highway forever. Doomed to driving around in circles until the end of time. Always collecting tickets, but never having anywhere to put them.

But then I looked to my left and I saw this lady in a booth. So I backed up a little and rolled down my window, and she looked at me expectantly. And so I said, "I got lost. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where I am. I have this ticket. Do you need this?" all while displaying a desperate expression that clearly said, WHAT. IS. LIFE.

And so I gave her the ticket and she asked for 50 cents and then Turnpike was over.


Tomorrow I'm riding a train into New York by myself. Wish me luck guys.

Beauty and the Beast Ponderings.

I was in the shower earlier this week (just the one time), and I started to think about the plot of Beauty and the Beast (as you do). And my thoughts quickly formed themselves into one of those annoying, trivial rants that I'm accustomed to having. So I thought I should write about it (because, obviously, this is one hot topic that everyone cares about greatly).

First things first. YES, this is an animated, children's story about a fictional event with creatures of fantasy. HOWEVER, I still noticed some gaping holes in the plot that I want answered. I think Disney owes us that much.

1. Why didn't any of the townspeople know that their kingdom was an actual king-dom?

The castle is hidden away in a place that you only find when you're not looking for it, deep within the forest filled with wolves. Nobody seems know it is there, and if they do, they really don't care that their ruler all of the sudden just stopped existing. As far as I know, the Beast/Prince Adam never did any actual ruling. How is he paying for the upkeep of that mansion, and the salaries of his servants if he isn't collecting taxes? What good is being a Prince when the only ruling you do is ordering around some plates and napkins??

Wouldn't you at least see the top of the spires and be like "Hmmm. That's interesting. We have a castle. I wonder why?"

2. Why didn't the servants' families care that their kin just never came back from work that one day?

Why wouldn't they go seek the reason for their disappearance? Wouldn't you be at all concerned that your wife went to her maid job in the morning and then never came back for 10 years? I mean, the least you could do knock on the castle door. Send a letter? Hire a PI?

That's a lot of families being represented. You would think at least one would be worried 

3. What the heck is this thing?

Magic, outdoor, transporter pot?

4. If they live in France, why do only two characters have French accents? 

To me, that should be an all-or-none sort of thing.

There is a lot of FanFic about these two. I would read it.

5. I'm guessing Belle was at the castle for a total of a few weeks. A month? Two days? I don't know, I haven't seen the movie in a while, but I do know that it was not a very long time. So that brings me to the inexplicable exponential shedding pattern of the Enchanted Rose. Like, what gives? After ten years the rose loses five petals, but after two weeks it looses twenty-five? What was the unseen cause of the hyper-shedding? Was it that love was so close, but so far away at the same time... and the rose got frustrated with the Beast on his lack of action...and started to take it out on him in the only way it knew how? That's ridiculous though, Lexie. Roses don't blackmail. 

Do they? Only Disney can answer this.

I was kidding about the one-shower-per-week bit. Mostly.

Book Review: The Night Circus and Attachments

This past week has been simultaneously horrible and fantastic. I got through my exams, only because I read two amazing books, that I definitely recommend. Especially if you're bored this holiday season and looking for some entertainment.



The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

This book is magic. It's not wrapped in trivial nonsense and isn't clouded with self-indulgence from the author. It is elegant, and fantastical and big. It is thought provoking, and smart, and so entertaining that even that quarterback who hasn't picked up a book since that time he he used it as a weapon would even thoroughly enjoy it. Think Harry Potter mixed with a Jane Austen novel and throw in some Romeo and Juliet. There. That's this book.

The story begins with a self-seeking magician who discovers he has a daughter. She can move things with her mind. He sees this working to his advantage and binds her to a challenge. A game of sorts. But what this game entails, you will have to find out for yourself. Here is a link to the blurb on the back the book. I didn't want to post it, because I think it gives a little bit too much away. Barnes and Noble: The Night Circus




Attachments by Rainbow Rowell

I'm just going to say it up front; this book is chick lit. But if you aren't normally a fan, don't sign it off completely just yet. Because I'm with you. I find that the majority of romantic comedies just aren't…… enough. After the first half of the novel, the plot is either severely one-sided or too shallow. You can tell the author was either entirely focused on the emotions of the characters and apathetic about the story-line, or vice versa. But this book was different.

I'm not trying to be selfish or whatever, but I feel like this book was written for me. I counted maybe six or seven inside jokes in it that I have with my friends or just myself (I'm extremely cool because I have inside jokes with myself, I know). And the characters are completely real. At times, I felt like I had actually written a sentence or two. Like it came straight out of my mouth. And again, I'm not trying to be conceited, or consider myself on the same level as a published author (because I really, really don't). I'm just saying that it was like this book was in alignment with my thoughts.

My favorite part about this novel is how extremely awkward it is. The whole of the plot is revolved around this one, main, paradoxical problem, and it's hilarious because it is profoundly creepy. And strangely, though however cringeworthy it is, I know that I have done things like it before. So I couldn't even pretend that I was above anything in book.

It's perfect. And real. And so funny (which makes up for any cheese factor). And I know that anyone who reads this will find it just as charming and relatable.

Here is the plot summary blurb if you're interested: Barnes and Noble: Attachments





So in conclusion: Read these books please.

Why I Hate Twilight: Part II E

Why I Hate Twilight Part II: Relationships are Toxic and Abusive

Section E: The Fatally Contagious Infectious Disease of Imprinting

"It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like... gravity moves.... suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does.... You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend." -- Jacob Black, Eclipse

Oh how deep, Jacob. Really. That's quite profound. Heaven forbid those feelings develop when you actually fall in love with someone through a deep connection formed by spending time with that person and learning about them. Their fears, their desires, their quirks, their attributes. No, that's just silly. Why fall in love the "normal" way when you can have fate take complete control? Who needs free will? Being forced to love someone is so much more romantic.


You thought I forgot about this series, didn't you? Not to worry. I've been planning to write this for a while now. For about 9 months actually. I told you I was a good procrastinator. Yes. So if you haven't already guessed, I'm going to talk about the lovely phenomenon known as imprinting in the Twilight series. Imprinting is defined as "the involuntary mechanism by which Quileute shape-shifters find their soul-mates".

Basically, for those of you who haven't read Twilight, Jacob is part of a Native American tribe whose members turn into werewolves when a threat (vampires) persists nearby. Jacob tells Bella that sometimes, in very rare circumstances, a member of the "pack" will imprint on a member of the opposite sex. This is a process of deep affection and there are many stages to it. When this happens, the shape-shifter will be bound unconditionally to this person for the rest of his/her life. Everything else in life becomes secondary and overshadowed. It's as if the world has shifted and gravity is pulling the shape-shifter towards this person.

Right. So let's break this down.

Stephenie Meyer isn't toying with your emotions. She's not a good enough writer for that. And these are the reasons why.

1) Free will is a concept of the past. A shape-shifter doesn't get to choose anymore. Once they imprint, every decision they make is a reflection upon the force tethering them to their one and only.  The argument here in support of imprinting is that the imprinter would WANT to make those decisions anyway. And even if they had a real choice, the end result would be the same.

But how would they even know?

In my mind, imprinting is comparable to illicit drug use. How do you think clearly when your μ receptors are being delightfully stimulated by opiοids? You don't.


2) "It's one of those bizarre things we have to deal with. It doesn't happen to everyone. In fact it's the rare exception, not the rule..."   Rare huh? Let's look at the statistics. By the end of the saga, there are 17 members of the pack accounted for. So out of those 17 werewolves, we know that at least 5 of them have imprinted. That's almost 30 percent. ONE WHOLE THIRD of the tribe had this incredibly rare and special phenomenon happen to them. Shall we return to math class, Stephenie? Or maybe pull out that thesaurus you love, and look up what rare means. I'll get you started: unlikely, infrequent, deficient, seldom, inconceivable, uncommon, isolated, unheard of….. 


3) Why on earth can a werewolf imprint on a baby? Why is this a thing that happens? Stephenie really tried to explain her way out that one. Because, see at first, the imprinter is like an older sibling. Later on, a best friend. Love blossoms over time…blah blah blah.

No. The imprinter still knows that someday he will want to be in a physical relationship with that baby, which is incredibly creepy. There is so much wrong with that.

Bestiality, necrophilia, pedophilia…sounds like the makings of a bestseller to me. For sure.

I want you to think of your favorite romance. 

It can be a comedy. It can be a drama. It can be a Disney movie.

Do you have it? Good.

Do you want to know why you love it? It's because you love the way the characters fall in love. The story. The journey.

… actually, now that I think about it, Disney isn't the best example if you're thinking of the classic Princess movie.

But nonetheless, even movies that invoke "fate" as a device to tell the story, leave some of it up to witty repartee and cute montages.

But Steph says, To hell with all that. Let's just have the characters fall so deeply in love with each other that the only possible explanation for such affection could be absolute fate. I'll admit, she writes manipulatively enough to convince you that this is something the characters would want, because this "love" is so real that you wouldn't want it any other way.

I call bullshit. 

I want to love someone because I want to love them. I want the fall. Love is a process that can't be calculated or forced upon you by some all-consuming higher power. 

Imprinting isn't a fall. It's a wind-knocking shove in the fatal direction. 

Things I know must have happened in the world of Harry Potter, though they are never strictly mentioned.

• Dudley Dursley's wife gave birth to a darling wizard boy 
• Vernon died shortly thereafter from shock

• Sirius Black had an affair with Madame Rosmerta while he was at Hogwarts that was quite reminiscent of The Graduate.

• Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy fell in love despite their valiant efforts to hate each other.
• Parents not pleased. 
• Red-haired grandparents parents even less pleased.
• Blonde-haired grandparents never came to wedding. 

• Luna's husband died tragically while hunting a crumple-horned snorkack, and she mourned him quietly in a cozy cottage by the sea. It was years later that a lonely wizard moved in beside her. The two rekindled their old friendship and realized that they would be much happier married to each other. 
• And, yes, it was Dean Thomas.

• Severus Snape still to this day, curses Harry from his grave. Snape had thought he made it quite clear to Harry while he was living that he despised the scarred, arrogant troublemaker. Apparently not. Harry still had the gull to name his middle child after him. I mean, really.
• It was Lily Luna Potter, not Albus or James, that inherited her father's superb flying skills. She became Gryffindor seeker, and played just as well (if not better) than him.

• Cho Chang is a ninny

• Susan Bones dropped an egg carton at the supermarket, slipped on the slimy yolks, and fell to her death because she's that lame.

• Gregory Goyle was actually a genius, but just pretended to be half-witted to make his best friend and fellow crony, Vincent Crabbe, feel better about himself.
• This loyal mark of friendship went unacknowledged by everybody, including the Sorting Hat 
• Dumbledore had always said they sort too soon…..

• Peter Pettigrew refused any meal that wasn't mostly made of cheese.

• Voldemort died a 72-year-old virgin.

• Hermione told Harry that she stuffed her beaded bag in her sock when the snatchers came and took them to Malfoy Manor. Hermione obviously lied because that isn't possible 
• (unless she was wearing jeans)
• (I tried it)

• There were too many cats (as previously discussed)

• Death Eater, Augustus Rookwood, looked like the child snatcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

• Cormac McLaggen always wondered who his father was. His mother refused to talk about it, and it was only after years of searching (and some reluctant help from Hermione) that he discovered the truth.
• But he was probably better off; Gilderoy Lockhart would never have made a good father.

• Pansy Parkinson had a mad crush on Seamus Finnigan but never told anyone

• Winky was never quite since her dismissal from Master Crouch, but was able to regain some of her former cheerfulness after being hired by her new master, Percy Weasley
• This act did not go unnoticed by Hermione who eventually had to accept it because Winky burst into tears every time she mentioned freeing the elf.

• Ginny and Harry had a dispute over the location of their future home…
• Harry didn't understand what was so wrong with Grimmauld Place, and Ginny was there rolling her eyes being all like, "Get real Harry".  And he was like, "Think about Kreacher! He loves that place", and Ginny said "Kreacher also likes Death Eaters and Sirirus' mom." An exasperated sigh from Harry followed. "That was in the past Ginny! He's changed since then. He makes like really good soup now." And then Ginny was all, "Fine. You and the seriously distrubed house-elf can live happily-ever-after in that grimy, dark wizard pen. I'm going to go get some fresh air," and promptly flew away on her broom, as Harry seethed from the ground.

Foreign Wizardry: A (Poorly-Composed) Harry Potter Essay

International Magical Cooperation.


I've been thinking a lot about it lately as I spend what little free time I have whiling away the hours with my nose in Harry Potter. It used to annoy me how there was so little mentioned of foreign witches and wizards in the series, and my annoyance was restored after reading Goblet of Fire again.

Did you know American witches and wizards are mentioned only ONCE in the entire series? To boil down everything America is into a couple of witches at the World Cup, gossiping under a spangled banner is a crime.

And as I sat, obsessing over that tiny window through which the smallest glimpse of foreign wizardry can be seen outside of Europe, I began to construct an alternate HP world in my mind. A more accurate version (in my ever-so-humble opinion, of course).

Picture this though.

You have a dark wizard. Goes by the name of Voldemort. He's your regular, run-of-the-mill, power-hungry lunatic who likes to kill for sport.  Do you think, for one moment, that he isn't going to try to expand his filthy, death-ridden empire? I mean, come on. The man shares his brain with a snake. The day he stops dreaming of world domination is the day I eat my dog.

And I don't have any pets.

It's as likely as this conversation taking place:

Wormtail: "Master, I've been drawing up a few designs. We can take over Spain by the end of the month if we gain control of the water-ways and everyone's minds'. We can be over seas by June if we keep up the pace. We'll need manpower though. Might I suggest recruiting the giants?"

Voldemort: "Quiet, Wormtail! You are too ambitious. I told you from the outset, that if we were going to do this, we were going to do it gradually and cautiously. I don't want to expand further than Great Britain. If I control Britain, that will be enough of me. Don't you know me enough by now to know that I am easily contented with what I have in front of me? I never want more than what I have."


Right. Because that would happen.                  (sarcasm)


My point is, if you were to take the world of Harry Potter and stick it right in the middle of the real world, I believe a few things would be different.

Firstly, we know that Voldemort is quite the world traveler… with his jaunts to Egypt and Albania and whatnot. So why is Britain the only country that seems to be worrying about him? Voldemort is cray, and there is little chance that he wouldn't want to destroy all the other countries in the the world as well, so I think the books should have definitely included more of this aspect. And I think the magical leaders of those countries should have done some allying up. Which brings me to my next point.

Given American's foreign policy, if there was a powerful, muggle-killing, snake-man on the loose in Europe, I hardly doubt Americans wouldn't go try and stop him. I mean just look at our track record… We're basically just a whole bunch of crazy Gryffindors brandishing our swords and yelling out profanities in the name of Justice… Our national Magical Military would be the first on the scene, shouting out the mantra, "You will like democracy!" while forcing Voldemort into a in a red and white striped straightjacket with fireworks shooting out their wands. If Voldemort were real, we would have tried to stop him. I'm not saying we would have been able to for sure, but we would have at least been there in the thick of things.

And speaking of being in the thick of things, why are there only three wizarding schools allowed in the Tri-Wizard cup? Why couldn't it be the Icosa-Wizard cup and allow twenty schools to compete? I know that it was originally created for the three largest European schools, but why the exclusion? Why can't those overseas play? What about Africa? I'm sure they'd love a shot. What's wrong with our Australian friends? Not good enough? Silliness.


You know, I'd be happy with even a minor change in the series. For instance, would it have been so bad to make Luna a foreign-exchange student? How hard would that have been? Then we would at least know what a non-European wizarding school was like. And actually, such a program was even alluded to in GOF when Ron mentions that Bill used to have a pen-friend who lived in Brazil. So it's not far-fetched. Really. It's not.

Anyway.

I just don't think that the borders of Great Britain could contain Voldemort. Not at all. So I wish that JK Rowling would have constructed his story line to include the fact that the whole world was against him (of course, it's implied, but I'm just not seeing the action). And if she left it out by design, why? Because that just seems unrealistic to me.


I'm not complaining, I'm just letting my fingers go. They've been itching to do something besides counting pills and change. And JK Rowling, if you're reading this, I'm so honored to have you in my internet presence, and disregard everything I ever wrote. Love, Lexie.

On People Hunting.

Everyone remembers that moment when their teacher made them read The Most Dangerous Game for the first time (No? Just me?). That shocking, cringing, earth trembling moment when you realize that crazy people are nearer than you previously thought. Who would make a classroom full of 14-year-olds read this? Why!? What is happening. This story is about hunting. Hunting another man. Is the author in custody? He should be.

But then I got to thinking…

We all have that one person in our lives that just doesn't get it. That person who is mean, rude, flaky, oblivious, selfish, a tad bit OCD... That person who has received about twelve big wake up calls, but neglects to open their eyes.

No matter the circumstances, they refuse to meet you half way. Their static trudge through life is weighing on your nerves. You try to escape the situation, but they pull you back, tugging on your conscience.

So what if you were fed up? Entirely. And you were just like, "Hey. So I'm a little tired of your antics. Here is a knife and a pair of hiking boots. You'll need them because I'm going to hunt you. And if you don't accept, I'm going to set my seven-foot-tall, Russian body builder, named Ivan, on you."

And then you chase them through the woods.

You might need to send an arrow through a tree next to their head, to let them know that you're serious. And maybe trap them in some kind of leafy pit? I wouldn't advise actually injuring them, because let's not forget we don't live on remote islands.

(But if you do, have at it.)


Once the person in question has realized that you've gone mad, they will probably try to plead with you. This is a good sign, because this means they will be willing to negotiate. Go wild with your demands. Tell them they have to spend the rest of their lives cleaning your bathroom. Or tell them they have to befriend an Arctic polar bear, tame it, and then bring it back to your house where they must build it a little habitat. Or they have to learn eight different languages, and travel around with you to other countries and be your translator. Or you could be nice and just ask them not to be a horrible person anymore.

Either way, they will have to make a decision. And if you do it right (meaning, you have a very sharp spear in your hand ten inches from their face), they should immediately agree to your outlandish requests.


I know what you're thinking… "Where on earth am I going to find a large Russian?" I hear ya. There doesn't seem to be enough of them. I guess the take-home message would be to start planning your trip to Russia now. There's no time to waste. Hurry! Before all the good ones are taken.

On People Hinting.

Some people don't get it. You try to spell it out for them, but they insist on playing dumb. Or actually being dumb. It's a little bit infuriating.

But as a human, you will come across people who can't take hints.

I have gotten myself into many an unwanted predicament by passive aggressively allowing people to annoy me.

When someone finds that particular way of getting under my skin, unless they are a family member, I usually don't do anything active about it. I may write a blog post, or complain about to a friend, but I don't ever confront the person. In fact, the closest I usually come to really telling someone what I think about them or the annoyingly horrible thing they've done to me, is backhandedly commenting about the incident five years after it happened.Which they don't really catch on to anyway. I can't really blame them…most people forget about something like that after five years…MOST people.


I've been thinking that I should make more of a stand, and be upfront with people. But then then I realized I can't do that. It's not in my nature to be confrontational. No, it's more in my nature to be sneakily manipulative and slightly evil.

This is not a good thing. And you many not believe it, but it's true.

I mean, I'm not a huge grudge holder, and I can forgive someone pretty easily…but cross me and you will die a slow death because, surprise! I have been poisoning your Cheerios for twelve years.

Wait. I'm kidding. For real guys.


I only poison Wheaties. 



So my first reaction is to silently stew. This is bad. This is what makes a person hard to live with. You can't harbor these emotions…you heart will shrink three sizes. No one wants to be an Uncle Scar or a Rasputin. Ugly Stepmothers are generally looked down upon, and everyone hates a Stalin. (I don't have anything against Disney villains or Russians, they just make for good examples).


But I think it's equally bad to openly discuss your heartaches to the people that cause them. Even if you do it nicely, people will resent you, and you will be hated. Forever.


So what's the middle? What is the happy medium between being a Regina George now or a Grinch later?


Hints.


Subtle hints.


Subtly evil. Subtly effective.


A covered-up comment here, a riddle there. Hand gestures, eye rolling, secret messages wrote in lemon juice… Most people won't get them, but when they do, it will probably sting.



I guess the alternative to all of this is to just realize that everyone has struggles, and graciously forgive them for not always being perfect. Because that is how you want people to treat you. After all, you are just as guilty as everyone else.


But when is enlightenment ever fun?

Character Lovers Anonymous.

The Perplexities of Characters and Why they Ruin Our Lives

in Addition to Making them Worth Living

Part III: Words: The Most Infallible Love Potion

Hey there. Welcome to the last post in this exhausted series. And when I say, "exhausted", I'm mostly talking about my brian. Also my brain.



Meeting leader: Welcome everyone. I'm glad you are all here. Let's take a moment and introduce ourselves, shall we? Let's start with you. You, with the frizzy hair and the bags under your eyes. What's your name, and tell us why you're here?

Me: Hi everyone. I'm Lexie. And I… and I fall in love with characters.

Meeting leader: Ahh yes. I think we call can relate to this. Why don't you explain.

Me: Oh geez. Where to begin? Well… let's see… I think the best place to start would be the Disney Princes. I mean, how could you not fall in love? I was so young, too. You've got Aladdin with his adventurous and lively personality, and Prince Philip with his quick wit… Prince Eric never really did anything for me, but once the Beast shed his growly wall of defense…I was a goner. There was no going back. They all have such chiseled jaws too. Sigh. 

And then of course there was every male character in Harry Potter. I think I've had a crush on every one of them at some point (with the obvious exceptions of Dumbledore, Hagrid, Karkaroff, Pettigrew, Crabbe, Goyle, and the majority of the Death eaters. Oh and Colin Creevy). I realized the depth of my attachment to characters through my HP journey. That was really a wake-up call. 

And then there was Darcy of course. He still causes me to go weak in the knees (which is perhaps one of the most embarrassing side effects on account of me not being a mushy gushy, lovey dovey type person). Basically every P&P based story causes me to fall hard, e.g., Tom Hanks in You've Got Mail and Jimmy Stewart in Shop around the Corner.

Jim Halpert. My ideal. Absolutely. He is the reason I have given up hope on ever finding love. I'm almost sure no one will ever compare. Which is really heartbreaking. Oh please, someone (some man out there), prove me wrong. 

Is that a good overview? Is that enough to go on for now? Is there anyway you can help me through this? Please? I'm begging you. I need help. 


You have to know what I'm talking about. I know you do. I'm pretty sure that every female ever, who ever read a book or watched a movie, has fallen in love. At least once. You can't hide from this truth. You have to acknowledge and accept it! That has to be the first step in coping. It has to be.

Why do the men we read about or watch on the TV seem so desirable? Why do they seem so perfectly charming, talented and flawed in all the right ways? Why? Why does this happen to us?

It actually concerns me a little bit. It's unfair to the men in the world. I'm not saying that book or movie characters can ever compare to real people, but I think that sometimes…sometimes they set high standards. Unreal standards. And I think it's hard to let go.

I don't know the answer to this problem. I love characters. I love getting lost in their worlds. I just wish it was easier to emerge back out.

It's like when you take a really long, hot shower on a cold winter morning. Coming out of the shower into the cruel, unforgiving, crisp air is excruciating.

Coming back to reality after immersing yourself in a book or movie is like that.

And it's really upsetting.



(Male bloggers, how does this work for you? Do you often fall in love with characters as well? I'm thinking you must.)



And that concludes this miniseries. I hope you didn't die of boredom and/or lack of creativity.

Tomorrow: We conquer the beast.

"I go to seek a Great Perhaps"

The Perplexities of Characters and Why they Ruin Our Lives

in Addition to Making them Worth Living

Part II: The Legend of the Reckless Heroine

I love strong, vibrant female characters. I find it easy to look up to them. They have traits that anyone would want.

But I've noticed, recently, that some writers take it a step further. A step toward the unstable, or the impulsive.

Let me explain. I'm sure you've all read the Hunger Games. Yes? Well Katniss is an example of an independent, intelligent and admirable female character. She, in a way, empowers women. Or at least that's how I see it. And I love her.

I also love John Green. A lot. But. I sometimes have an issue with the way people view his characters. In Looking for Alaska, the main girl, Alaska Young, is certainly a stand-out character. But not in the same way Katniss is. She's headstrong, but reckless. Wild and enigmatical. And big. And Miles, the narrator, falls for her.

Looking for Alaska is a beautiful story, and I wouldn't change it, but I just have a hard time believing in Alaska.

I have never met anyone like her. Have you? And I really can't relate. I'm not saying I have it all together. No, quite the contrary. It's just that I find it really hard to relate to so dynamic and self-descructive of a character. She's larger than life. And she makes it look desirable almost. Tragic and insufferable. But desirable. She's a paradox. I love that such a character could be created, but I have yet to find her in life.

And maybe that's part of the beauty of it. A book is an escape. Right? But like I mentioned yesterday, we seek to find similarities between ourselves and the characters we read or see. And maybe I'm the only one, but I don't understand Alaska. She's a mystery. Which could be, perhaps, what the author intended.


But Alaska isn't the only one who fits this description. Multiple books and movies display this type of female lead.

Clementine Kruczynski is desperate, careless and impulsive. Scarlett O'Hara is self-serving, vain and incredibly loyal. Summer Finn is quirky, distant and flaky. Daisy Buchanan is selfish, shallow and effervescent.  Holly Golightly is lost, charming and naive. *

*Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Scarlett from Gone with the Wind
Summer from 500 Days of Summer

Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby

Holly from Breakfast at Tiffany's

I love all most of these characters dearly. For the most part, they're real. So real. And that's what I love about them. But they also have another quality. An air of mystery. Something not so easily described or portrayed.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that these characters are messed up. Most of them even admit it. But the "perfect" (notice the quotations) guy falls in love with them anyway. They make normal seem overrated.

And I use the term "normal" loosely. What I mean is that most of them make wearing a straight jacket look alluring. It's like the only true way to make a guy fall for you is too be as ambiguous or reckless or irritating as possible. It will give your relationship passion. That will surely win him over.  I just have the feeling that people think, the only way to be an interesting person is to be like Alaska Young.

And I think that's the completely wrong message.

People. Just normal people. Are messed up in some way. This is what being human is all about. And these female characters exemplify this well. But almost too well.

I can't speak for the whole world, but I'm going to anyway. I think we love these characters because they are so different from the norm. They are infecting. And beautiful in their own way. They don't set lofty standards for people. They allow room for failure. I can definitely appreciate that. But they make this failure look flawless. Which I always thought was impossible.

People want to be them anyway.

Sometimes it's hard. It's hard knowing that these are the type of people we seem to love (minus Daisy, because honestly she sucks).


Because I can't be Alaska Young for you. And I don't want to.