La Reine et Moi

Oh, Sofia.

I knew. I knew, and yet I was hoping against hope that the movie that you made was somehow the movie I really, really wanted to see about Her Majesty, the last Queen of France. I wanted someone to show the heartbreaking truth of what it is like to be in a gilded cage, how it feels to have not the slightest decision to be your own, what real grace in the face of death may look like. Instead, what you gave all the world was a lovely, lovely, empty painting of a lost teenager being indulged in the fulfillment of insubstantial wishes. It is the same movie you have made before, and I am a little sad about it.

We have already talked, you and I, about my own attraction to the doomed Queen, and I thought perhaps I understood a little about your motivation. But I was wrong, wasn't I? You never lamented to woman she was forced to become, or regretted the woman she never was, but instead you identified with the child of privilege and wealth who wielded her power carelessly and frivolously. Don't misunderstand me - your movie was stunning. It was a crystal chandelier of a movie, though, a layer cake, and the Marie Antoinette who grew in my mind while making this costume was a whole meal, and the candles behind the reflections. She was a woman who I imagine loved her children and her country and feared death and perhaps welcomed it, at the end. She was a woman who was asked to be a woman before she was grown, after never really having been allowed to be a child herself. She was a pawn, and she was a player. She craved simplicity and loved luxury. She was a bundle of contradictions, just like you or me or anyone, and she was made an example of because of it. Didn't that break your heart? Where was that in this gilded plate of petit fours? Where was the woman who dared to have herself painted astride like the King himself, who dared to be seen sans corset? That is the portrait I was awaiting.

Antonia, you were there somewhere. The candyfloss and fairydust they spin around you, the curses and the punchlines that still accompany your name down through the annals of history, they are the stories we always weave around the women we don't or can't understand. You are there in the heart of the tales, and perhaps someday, we'll see your face instead of your reflection.

It's out on Tuesday!

If you haven't been obsessively waiting for Marie Antoinette to come out on DVD, like I have, then you may not know. But it's coming out on Tuesday! It's the perfect way for me to spend my Valentine's Day...

I am going to make a t-shirt for the occasion. Anybody want to come watch this with me?

I have lapsed, I know it.

I always mean to add a little smidgen of something to this blog, because I don't want to leave my readers wanting (ha!), and I know I also promised to keep all of you up to date on the status of the band.

Well, I don't mind telling you that the band is going SWIMMINGLY, thanks very much. As a matter of fact, that is a good part of the reason why I haven't been blogging - all the time I usually spend typing mindlessly on the computer is spent practicing my bass instead. I fell like I'm really getting somewhere with it.

And remember when I was whining about wanting that pretty purple acoustic? Well, I went ahead and took the plunge, and I've been playing it. I like it a lot, even tho it's harder to play by a long shot than my tiny Daisy Rock, because it's manufactured for grown ups and not 13 year old girls, which apparently I am. The acoustic is still too small for the Fender flatwound strings I accidentally bought in a long. This is distressing because the strings were a little on the pricey side, and I was very interested in hearing the difference in sound. Apparently, the flatwounds give you a warmer, more "upright" sound when they're on an electric bass. Since we're playing straight-up rockabilly and punkabilly type stuff, I thought the upright sound would be most apropos. Eventually, I would like to play an actual stand-up bass, but I will bide my time as far as that is concerned.

If anyone happens to be here in town on April 21st, come to the Monthly Grind. It'll be our premiere performance, and I think we're gonna rock the house. Otherwise, we know we're in this for the long haul, and there will be other performances, but the real question is when. I think that I would love to lean toward a more dance-y sound, and H. wants us to go a little more hard-core, so there's bound to be something good that comes of this.

And at some point, I am going to work up the nerve to finish both the Rosalind Russell-y wool dress I have (in fuschia wool flannel) and the black western shirt with leopard accents. I'll post pix when I get around to it.