Jean's Take

A blog about words, women, & whimsy

Why did Jean start Writing?

Menopause! Yes, that’s right, I started writing fiction when I was teaching English in a Girl’s High School, finishing my Masters in Liberal Studies and going through Menopause—all at the same time. Another sympathetic English teacher and I agreed that if men suffered from it there would be all sorts of cures, so we decided to each come up with an idea for a humorous story. Well, by the time we discussed it again, my idea had turned into a book and characters had begun to take over my head. I was hooked.   Backstage at the White House turned out to be a far cry from Menopause and I wrote three other books before I finished it but it all started because of it.  Strange things do happen.

 

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*Everybody’s Fine, 2009, and Robert DeNiro

Everybody’s Fine’, starring Robert DeNiro is a fine film for Father’s Day. I must warn you, however, that I have a friend who won’t watch DeNiro in anything because of his ‘trash talking’ of President Trump. I wasn’t too surprised by it. I’ve watched him in the past on Letterman and he has trouble with conversation. Don’t you think that sometimes people who have trouble putting words together are very good with four-letter ones–and gestures? And let’s face it, in his craft he works with a script. But, should we judge artists by their private lives and actions–or their lack of ability to express themselves properly? That’s a real ponder . . . . .

Since Ring Cycle season is coming up at the Met, Richard Wagner comes to mind. By all reports, he was a nasty, unkind man with few scruples. He absconded with his best friend’s wife, rubbed shoulders with the Nazis and belched when he ate, but he wrote some of the most wondrous music ever written and is a towering figure in his art. I don’t approve of what he was but I could never cut him from my life.

On the other hand, Robert DeNiro is little more than a ‘Raging Bull’. I could easily join my friend and give DeNiro up–he’s done little that I fancy–but if I had, I would have missed his fine performance in Everybody’s Fine. DeNiro plays Frank, a recent widower and recent retired factory worker (he coated power wires with PVC tubing) who is expecting his four children home for a little reunion. When they begin to cancel at the last minute, he packs a bag and, against doctor’s advice, goes on a road trip to visit them. He winds up learning a lot about his children but even more about himself.

And my question? Well, I’m still pondering . . . . . . .  How about you?

Favorite moment: With Frank in the art store when he is shown his son’s painting of telephone poles.

*Written and Directed by Kirk Jones who adapted it from an Italian film, supporting cast includes Drew Barrymore, Sam Rockwell and Kate Beckinsale

Rating: 3 carats 

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I have Trouble with Abortion.

I have trouble with abortion.  I think any thoughtful human being should.  It’s just not black and white. Cowardly, I do my best to ignore it, but this week it reared its perplexing head again with Ireland’s decision to overturn its abortion ban.  Now, Ireland has had the strongest abortion laws in Europe. Even taking an abortion pill could get you 14 years in prison and if there was a fetal heartbeat, a woman could die before she could get an abortion no matter the condition of the fetus. That’s what happened to 31 year old Savita Halappanavar, a dentist who had immigrated from India with her husband. I was in Ireland in August of 2013 when the newspapers were frustrated with her death and Irish women marched. She and her husband had begged the doctors for a therapeutic abortion even arguing that they were neither Irish nor Catholic, but that heartbeat did her in. When the less that human fetus aborted, she was so riddled with infection that she died three days later. That bothers me.  It’s not just black and white. Not long after, I read that a woman in England who found she was having twins aborted one fetus because she said that she couldn’t afford to raise two. That bothers me too. It’s not just black and white. I have trouble with Abortion.

(Did you know that Ohio, for one, has a ‘Heartbeat’ law?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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How to Make an American Quilt, 1995, 117 mins. . . .

Winona Ryder stars as Finn, a graduate student at Berkeley attempting to finish her thesis.  She’s changed the topic four times and has the same trouble committing to her live-in boyfriend, Dermot Mulroney.  Finn decides to spend a month with her grandmother, Ellen Burstyn, who lives with her sister, Anne Bancroft, in a big old house by an orange orchard. Finn arrives into a Quilting Bee which includes five other women, Jean Simmons, Lois Smith, Kate Nelligan, Maya Angelou, and Alfre Woodard. As they stitch squares for a quilt themed ‘where love resides’ they attempt to help Finn with stories (shown in flashbacks) of their own marriages.

Favorite moment: The women tell her the quilt is for her.
Fun Fact:
taken from a novel by Whitney Otto that started out as her Master’s thesis.
Screenplay written by Jane Anderson; directed by Jocelyn Moorhouse 
Critic Corner: Caryn James of the New York Times wrote ‘we are not watching movie women but real women with shaky judgment and lifetimes of reasons to resent and forgive one another as well as all the men in their lives.’

 

 

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Enchanted April, 1991, 101 mins.

The only way to have a Women’s Film Club is to show strong women’s films.  Enchanted April  is one of my favorites.  It’s a 1922 book by Elizabeth von Arnim that became a Play that became a Musical that became an idyllic Woman’s Film.  To start with, it’s very pretty and we like pretty.  It’s focus is four women at crossroads—two are in drowsy marriages, one is a lonely widow tired of just living on memories, and one, a glamorous heiress bored with the artificiality in her life.  Can a man enjoy it?  Sure, but it’s only fully understood by a woman.  For example, can a man fully understand that anyone, for that matter, might like to spend a month with three women she just met, in a villa in Italy basking in the warm Mediterranean sun? Well, when I put it that way . . . maybe, but still not with the same sensitivities.

So when Lottie in rainy London sees an ad for a villa for rent in sunny Italy she knows she has to go.  She invites Rose who goes to the same women’s club and they advertise and get Caroline, an elegant upper-class beauty and Mrs. Fisher, a bossy aging widow.  By the end of the month, the husbands of Lottie and Rose have arrived, Caroline is enchanted by the villa owner and Mrs. Fisher has new friends.

Favorite Moment:  As they leave, Mrs. Fisher sticks her wooden cane down in the dirt and moves forward—not looking back–and we are left to watch the cane burst forth with colorful flora symbolic of new beginnings for all.  In other words, it has a ‘happy ever after’ ending that is quite satisfying.

Director:  Mike Newell.  Cast includes Miranda Richardson, Josie Lawrence, Joan Plowright, Alfred Molina, Michael Kitchen and Jim Broadbent.

Froth:  Dame Joan Plowright is also Baroness Olivier, the widow of Sir|Baron Laurence Olivier and is a distinguished English actress in her own right.   She retired not long after making this film when she lost her sight from macular degeneration.

Thought to ponder:  Why do you think the women invited their husbands on their holiday?

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Two Months in but Still Hoping . . .

Emily Dickinson wrote—Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul—and sings the tune without the words—and never stops—at all.

I hope—all those reading this and all whom I hold dear—will have a Healthy, Prosperous and Happy—New Year . . .
I hope—this world will be a kinder and gentler place—with peace and goodwill for all—and that Mother Nature will give a break—no floods, no fires, no storms—that would be good for everyone’s sake . . .
I hope—that I find some dress shoes that won’t hurt my feet—and that our President will think to tweak before he Tweets.
I hope—my novel Backstage at the White House will find the audience it deserves—and President Forbes and Stacey Lee’s story will finally be heard . . .
I hope that you will add your hope—however, don’t forget to rhyme—after all—Emily did it all the thyme.

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Start a Film Club for Women in your Community, your Neighborhood, or just with a few Friends. I did!

About ten years ago, my husband and I moved to a ’55 and older’ community—we had satisfied that requirement some years earlier. Everything was new from our house to the clubhouse; in fact, the community was less than half built and the sounds of construction were all around us, but we were more than ready for a new home on one floor in a gated community, sitting on a hill overlooking New York City.  Sounds nice?  It is.

One day, early on, relaxing at the Clubhouse with that view and the leisure director, I sighed and suggested that maybe it would be nice to start a Koffee Klatch for women and watch a film about women and discuss it.  “I”, I said, had collected a few women’s films, or—as men like to say, ‘Chick Flicks’—that were really good and worthy of such an endeavor.

While I endeavored to tell her why I had collected some worthy women’s films she flitted off, and by the time I got home, I had an e-mail that had gone out to all residents announcing the beginning of a Film Club for Women. It was after Christmas because I remember that I took some left-over Christmas cookies to have with coffee to that first film.  At our second film and more left-over cookies, another women’s film fan said to me, “Don’t worry about next month, Jean. I’m picking up bagels!”

And that’s how it all began!

We had 8 to 10 women show up for that first film. Ten years later, we have over 150 members and have seen over 100 films focused on women and women issues.  We meet at 9am on the 1st Wednesday of every month and begin with a Coffee and . . . which is now more like a Continental Breakfast with fruit, bagel and pastry.  The chatter and laughter over coffee make life good, and I even feel a bit guilty when I have to break it up to watch the film, but only a bit because I know that they enjoy the discussion after the film as much as they do the chatter before.

SO, if you’re part of a community, believe me, ‘if you start it, they will come’ or if you like to get together with your friends and don’t have time to read a book every month, DO FILMS, GOOD WOMEN’S FILMS.  Write me if you have questions or stop by for film ideas and discussion questions.  And remember–HAVE FUN!!! 

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Things I didn’t do and did in 2016

  • I didn’t write on my Blog.  Yep, and I have  a feeling like a big heavy ball-and-chain is holding me back from writing in the new until I say farewell to the old.   So here’s some of my ‘didn’ts and dids’ for last year . . .
  • I didn’t go to Europe but I went to California where my grandson is an animator with Disney and we got a personal tour.  How many grandmothers do you know have a grandchild that works in a building with Mickey Mouse’s top hat on top?
  • I didn’t go to the opera but I did go to a few simulcasts at my local theater and experienced Tannhauser–4 hours of magnificent Wagner.  I did go to Lincoln Center last fall for a NYBT performance.  I have a daughter who loves dance, especially ballet, so it’s my treat every year for her birthday and she buys dinner.  Last year was the best–in three acts, the first was classical ballet, tutu and toe, performed to a Mozart Divertimento; the second was modern dressed in tight black and white–I liked this one best, but the third and longest act was a series of beautiful waltzes with gorgeous flowing dresses and tuxedoes.  So Elegant and full of grace.
  • I didn’t see ‘Hamilton’ but I saw ‘Cagney’ and left singing “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy”.
  • I did go to the Brooklyn Museum to focus on Judy Chicago’s ‘The Dinner Party’.  It’s the seminal work of the feminist movement of the 70’s.  39 porcelain place settings quietly await their famous guests while 999 more names of great women in history are scrolled over the porcelain tiled floor.  It’s powerful and brought tears to my eyes.
  • Finally, I ended the year with all my family around me.  This was the first time we’ve all been together in several years–22 of us and growing–and wow! can they eat!!!
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I LIKE THAT!!!

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Viktor Frankl, 1905-1997

Scott Pelley ended the CBS evening news with a quote from Viktor Frankl.  To paraphrase:  “Do not ask what is the meaning of life; ask what is the meaning of you.”

Frankl survived Auschwicz; his wife, parents and brother didn’t.  His best selling book Man’s Search for Meaning has sold over 9,000,000 copies.

 

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HOMESMAN: Surrealism on the Barren Plain.

cowboy-brown-horseshoe-hiI like Westerns; I like Hillary Swank and Tommy Lee Jones.  They are good at what they do, so I settled back with a smile to spend the evening with them in the Wild West.  It didn’t take long to realize that something was wrong–the land was too barren, the town too small and the settlers too few.  Swank plays, Mary Bee Cuddy, a strong, stalwart, spinster tilling her own land and wanting more than anything a man, for various reasons.  Jones plays, George Briggs, a good-for-nothing drifter whom Cuddy finds hanging from a tree (the only tree I believe within a hundred miles) getting ready to offer up his last breath.  (I know what you’re thinking, but forget it.) As the story proceeds, Cuddy has volunteered–for want of a valiant ‘Townsman’ to do so–to take three immigrant women who had become quite mad, across the barren plain to get help.   Briggs comes along—not because he feels any debt to Cuddy for saving his life but because she agrees to pay him.

From this point on, ‘Homesman’ makes no sense and don’t wait for it to do so.  Cuddy picks up these immigrant women, who couldn’t hack it on the barren plain, in a wood-enclosed wagon with no windows and a lock on the door.  They are handcuffed inside in their flimsy nightgowns, and at least one has no shoes.  There is no baggage and even few supplies for this barren plain adventure—I’m beginning to worry.

Along the way, they get hungry and BEHOLD! on this barren plain, with absolutely nothing around but barrenness, sits a Victorian Hotel that looks very much like a gingerbread house.  Inside is the innkeeper, James Spader, with a full staff preparing a feast and acting much like that rabbit who was always late in ‘Alice in Wonderland’.  Next, the little party arrives at a thriving Western town and Briggs delivers his looney cargo to Meryl Streep, the minister’s wife.   “Aha,” I say aloud, a smirk on my face, “You can’t fool me.  You may think you look like Meryl Streep in that bouffant black dress and pretty little black bonnet but I know you are really the Queen of Spades!”

I wait for Tommy Lee Jones, who directed the film, to put everything aright as he has so many times, but no, the movie ends as he dances a macabre jig and a wooden grave marker floats down the river.

 

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