The Pianist

I was led to believe that The Plague is a metaphoric treatment of the French resistance to Nazi occupation during World War II. So in order to give myself a visual reminder of those times, I wanted to watch Schindler's List. But, I could not find the CD. So I settled for something else, The Pianist.

The Pianist is a memoir written by the Polish musician of Jewish origins Władysław Szpilman. He tells how he survived the German deportations of Jews to extermination camps, the 1943 destruction of the Warsaw Ghetto, and the 1944 Warsaw Uprising during World War II.

But, its not the book that I'm talking about right now. What I needed was a visual shock! If there is one director, whom you can always entrust the business of shocking people, it is, in my humble opinion, Roman Polański. So I opted for the film version of The Pianist adapted by Ronald Harwood and filmed by Roman Polański.

Now, I'm sure, whatever I might write about Polański might be better articulated by my fellow bloggers. So, what do my friends have to say about all this stuff?

Smallprint: This is not the first Polański movie that I watched. That title goes to the Bitter Moon. But, I dare not write about it in large fontsizes.

Strange little bookmark

This post is not about internet bookmarks at all, I dont use them. While they have their place, I find traditional bookmarks much more intriguing. I know that Shamashis has not found this blog yet, so I'm safe from "How dare you damage the spine of a beautifuly crafted book by inserting a bookmark?" I assure my bibliophilic readers that I do not use them too. I just memorize the page number. Now, with all those clarifications out of the way, let us proceed to the real matter of this post.

Let me start by quoting a few lines from Chandrabindoo.

Anondo Sen boi porten, Shomoy ta 1972,
Browning, Tennyson, Arthur Miller,
Romance, bhromon, crime-thriller!

Devaluatione taka jeno bekar,
Anondo Sen pore shudhu newspaper!

Now, here's the reason. As most readers of my blog might know, I have been reading The Plague, by Albert Camus. I bought this book from College Street. It happens to be a 1965 reprint of the 1948 translation by Stuart Gilbert.

I found a strange little bookmark in it. A bus ticket for 30 paisa! For the uninitiated, if you had been in India a few years ago, you could pay it as 30p = 20p + 10p. But, both coins are now being phased out. Tomorrow, 10 times that amount, Rs 3.00 might get me a ride, from Jadavpur to Santoshpur, on a strange three-wheeled vehicle called the Auto Rickshaw!

Note: You have to share the infamous "Auto" with four other passengers, excluding yourself and the driver. I have encountered only two accidents in my life while travelling this way. Going by the number of daily accidents, two is a very small number!

Room 101

Here is a quiz for Matrix fans.
Q. What was Thomas Anderson's room number?
A. 101

Here is another one for Orwell fans.
Q. Where did Winston Smith ultimately yield?
A. Room 101

Do we see a connection? I see strange similarities in the way these two narratives are set up. Yet, the story-lines move away in totally opposite directions.

If my dear reader has read 1984 but not watched The Matrix, I would urge them to do so immediately. As for Tatha and our Matrix fan gang, please read 1984.

Rainy afternoons

I have been watching the rains since morning, wanting to sms, but restraining myself. Then it comes, the much awaited sms, knocking me far from equilibrium. I take a few minutes to calm down my frayed nerves. Then I reply.

I went through Orwell's Nineteen Eighty Four, but I shall comment on it later. I know I can be accused of 'talking by installments', but, now I shall read some more of Camus. I urge you to help me choose between The Plague and The Rebel.

The former was bought from College Street a few days back. While the latter is a birthday gift from Suto. Speaking of Suto, I hope she comes back intact from her trip to London.

Arent there any safe places to go to? Maybe Antarctica? It seems that even, the terror of all terrors, the common cold virus fails to survive there. I wish I could go there. Only if it wasnt for the Ozone Hole!

Binge shopping

What have I been buying? Books as usual! For the physics books, I prefer the latest editions. But my diet in literature remains vintage. Today's menu includes The Plague by Albert Camus and Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell. I hope these thin volumes will keep me occupied until I recover from the depression in my mind and the inflation in my knee. Its impossible to run out of books in Kolkata, thanks to College Street.

The pigs had an even harder struggle to counteract the lies put about by Moses, the tame raven. Moses, who was Mr. Jones's especial pet, was a spy and a tale-bearer, but he was also a clever talker. He claimed to know of the existence of a mysterious country called Sugarcandy Mountain, to which all animals went when they died. It was situated somewhere up in the sky, a little distance beyond the clouds, Moses said. In Sugarcandy Mountain it was Sunday seven days a week, clover was in season all the year round, and lump sugar and linseed cake grew on the hedges. The animals hated Moses because he told tales and did no work, but some of them believed in Sugarcandy Mountain, and the pigs had to argue very hard to persuade them that there was no such place.

As all bibliophiles in Kolkata know, College Street is where all books go when they die. So, when in need of used books at competitive prices, dress your worst, revise your haggling tactics, head straight to College Street and shop till you drop.

Orwell is too cool

I just finished reading the Animal Farm. Here are a few words from the cover.

Having got rid of their human master, the animals of Manor Farm look forward to a life of freedom and plenty. But as a clever, ruthless elite among them takes control, the other animals find themselves hopelessly ensnared in the old ways.

It is indeed one of the most shocking books I have read. The new rulers impose more and more controls on the animals while reserving privileges for themselves, until ultimately all that remains of the Principles of Animalism is that

ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL
BUT SOME ANIMALS ARE MORE EQUAL
THAN OTHERS.

Birthday coming up

My birthday is coming up. For those six billion people who I'm sure will forget to wish me, its on the 16th of July. Here is a shameless copy-paste from that page.

1945 - Manhattan Project: The Atomic Age begins when the United States successfully detonates a plutonium-based test nuclear weapon at the Trinity site near Alamogordo, New Mexico.

Anyway, I dont have any such grand plans for my birthday. I do recall that my last birthday was the best one I ever had. There was no party, none of the usual stuff... Yet, there is someone who made it so special. But I cant write about it here. Lets see what happens this year.