…and a novel idea, inspired by one of the greats. Be warned, I’m an all over the place PlaidCamper at the start of this new year – little of what follows makes any sense. Cabin fever?
Earlier this week a sprinkling of overnight snow and a bright blue sky morning created the glass tree:
Given the absence of significant snow for most of December, we were happy to see the shiny and shimmering tree! It didn’t last, but what a sight to lift the spirits. Now, as I write this, it appears we might be at the start of some proper snowfall for the next day or two.
Maybe, just maybe, we’ll be heading out on xc skis next week, or even sooner? I can picture it, two confident characters gliding across pristine snowfields and under glass trees, the very essence of beautiful wintry elegance. Like, like, oh, I don’t know, two romantic yet annoyingly likeable figures in a great Russian novel?
Where did that come from?! Due to the lack of snow (have I been mentioning that?) we’ve spent more time than usual indoors. Industrious and happy to be in the kitchen, I’ve kept up with baking and eating mince pies. I have to say, they are generally easy enough to make, but my second batch was woeful. Woeful I tell you sir! I’m so terribly, terribly sorry. If I keep baking so badly, whatever will become of us?! Oh, and we have been watching the BBC adaptation (first broadcast 2016) of War and Peace.
I’ve never read the novel, and have to say, knowing nothing of the story before watching, the drama was a blast. The major real events aside, I had no idea what was going to happen, and enjoyed guessing – quite wrongly most times – what might unfold. There were quite a few coincidences and contrivances as the plot barreled along, and these were sometimes hard to accept. To get to better grips with this, I’m going to have a go at reading the novel, and also see if the characters are a bit less broad and maybe more nuanced compared to the adaptation we saw.
These were minor quibbles in the grander scheme of the overall experience. It was certainly quite the production, and must have been an expensive enterprise. The grand palaces and houses, the elaborate sets and astonishing costumes were all marvellous, and the large scale battle scenes were convincing. Far better than the usual “five men running past and then around the back of the camera to the front again through the smoke” effect some lower budgeted productions suffer from. The acting was pretty good (to be fair, there was also some capital A “Acting” from one or two, but I always enjoy that in a costume drama) across the enormous cast of characters. Highly recommended if you’ve got an hour or six to spare this winter. Fabulous entertainment!
Before I finish my comments on War and Peace, I do have to mention one thing. I wasn’t going to, but honestly, it’s been haunting me. It is one of the all time great novels, PlaidCamper, and as such, full of insights into what drives humans to do the things they do – for love, honour, greed, power, revenge and so on – we’d expect you to have questions and be haunted. Well yes, all that stuff and the other things I wrote above about high production values, little expense spared, and good acting etc. But, and this might just be me, was I meant to be quite so involved with Prince Vasily’s wig? (Played by Stephen Rea – Prince Vasily, not the wig) I say wig, but was it a wig? Maybe it was his own hair? Bouffant? Coiffure? Sculpture? Creation? Hair piece? Small cat or spaniel? It was a thing of beauty, and I couldn’t stop staring at it. It captured my attention immediately and almost completely. What story? A mighty battle at Borodino, thousands of casualties and Napoleon’s army is approaching Moscow? Uh huh, sure, whatever, sounds serious, but will Prince Vasily’s wig be safe? Will it volunteer to fight the invaders? Now, bear with me, but had it volunteered, I think Vasily’s wig, acting independently of Vasily, could have ended the war. Both sets of soldiers would have been so distracted they’d have forgotten about the bloody fighting… Honestly, it’s on such small details the course of history can change. In my head, anyway.
I believe Stephen Rea was aware of the hair because he kept waggling and raising his eyebrows and smiling at me in a knowing way – he really shouldn’t break the fourth wall like that. Outplayed by a wig, perhaps Stephen was asking for help or trying to dislodge the competition? Mrs. PlaidCamper wasn’t getting the same wiggy vibe, and, if you watch the series, maybe you won’t either. I said to Mrs. PC it was hair loss (that bit works best if read in a heavy Russian accent) she couldn’t see what I could see…
Goodness, that was a long aside, almost like a, like a, oh, I don’t know, an unlikely contrivance in a nineteenth century novel.
Where were we? Oh yes, gliding across the snowy plains. In truth, at least one of us will be absolute-ski exhausted after the first half hour and wondering where the nearest cafe is. Our plan is to tackle the flattest trails on the Plains of Abraham, so finding a cafe nearby won’t be too difficult. A very well earned hot chocolate, and if there’s a pastry, why not? With all this new snow, we’ll be needing extra pastries to maintain a sensible calorie balance. (My thumbs are already on – or is it off? – the (nonexistent) scale, like an unscrupulous merchant in a nineteenth century novel…) Are you tired of this yet? Tired, like you can get reading a long nine- Please, stop it PlaidCamper!
Almost done! I went out with Scout a little earlier, and she was thrilled to be able to dig, even if the snow wasn’t really deep enough:
Scout! We are out in society! If you behave like this, whatever will become of us? Consider our audience, madam! And what’s this about shallow? You certainly know how to wound a fellow…
I shall leave it here for this week, ego bruised, feeling fragile but not shattered, like a, like a, oh, I don’t know, a glass tree or an overwrought character in a – I’ll stop, you know how it goes…
Goodness, you’re still here and have a question? What about the novel idea, PlaidCamper – you mentioned it at the start? Oh, that. I’m no nineteenth century novelist (no, no, really, and thank you, you’re so very kind) but I was inspired by old LT to have a go at a short story of my own. It’s about a famous actor, his wig, a down on his luck baker and his incontinent pooch. The title? “Woe & Pees!” Yup – when the BBC drama department comes knocking, I’ll let you know.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
OldPlaidCamper 