The Hunger Games.
So some time ago I’ve promised my friend Eleri to write a review of The Hunger Games. I’ve read them over the Easter, in English, because if I can, I always choose the original. (It’s just better.) Today I’ve seen the first movie (went to the theater with my mom, whom I told it would be very bloody and dark, and she was very surprised. Me too, d’ailleurs.)
I started the book with a certain bias. I usually don’t respond well to things that are very popular. I remember when the world went crazy for Dan Brown and his Da Vinci Code. I read it and it was barely mediocre. (I would say the same of Harry Potter if I read it for the first time now, but thank God, I was around 13 when I read it and I was blown away and it changed my life, so.) I read Twilight and deemed it the worst book I ever read and it’s something, because I read a lot of books, and not all of them were good. So I was hesitant about The Hunger Games, when I heard it made such a fuss all over the world. But at last I started it and I have no regrets. I spent the entire free time I’ve had during Easter (that is, when I wasn’t enjoying some quality time with family and I could calmly read) reading those books. I was finishing up Mockingjay in the bus to Kraków. T’was a mistake. Keeping myself from crying was hard.
So yeah, in general, I enjoyed the books. A lot. There were things that I didn’t like, of course. Nothing’s ever perfect. (Well, okay. Terry Pratchett is pretty much my idea of perfection.) (Seriously. Me and my Sabbath, we quote Discworld about the same as any given priest or bigot quotes the Bible.) (It’s just the way it is.)
SPOILER ALERT – plot explained beneath, beware. Don’t read on if you don’t want to be spoiled.
Wordless Wednesday #3
Going to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Polish premiere, on July 14/15, at midnight :)
The worst part its of course the fact that apparently you have to choose between 3D with subtitles or 2D with dubbing. I’d like 2D with subtitles, but that’s not an option :/ all in all we’ve decided for the subtitles, we’re just gonna have to endure the 3D. (Most of us don’t like it, because it gives headache and is not all that fancy.)
(And once again my wordless wednesday is pretty wordy xD)
Meme time!
I haven’t had an Internet access since Saturday, though maybe it’s a good thing, since I couldn’t waste my time on the Internet when I should spend it studying. Instead, I wasted it watching Mythbusters and crappy movies. Well, what the hell. I kicked the exam session in the butt after all. Yes, you read right – I’m all through it ! I finally passed the Arabic test, got a 4 (this would be your B, I presume) from Arabic Linguistics and also a 4 from Islam and thus finished the session with an average of 4,3. On Arabic Philology, ’cause on my Romance Philology I had only one exam, Theory of Literature, and I got a 5 (an A). Yeah, I am bragging right now.
But anyway. Today was the last exam (Islam) and tomorrow start the normal classes. Because of this damn extended session I didn’t actually get any spring break, but at least it’s over now. And the Internet’s back, right on time.
So, I’ve been tagged by Polish Mama on the Prairie. This is how it works:
It all started with Scottish Mum’s post:
“I have seen lots of posts about what we struggle with, or things that we like to do, and I’d like to find out a bit more information about all of you. This is my way of doing it. I am looking forward to visiting some of you on the blog hop.”
What you cannot choose. The Rules are Simple
“We all know that blogging/facebook/twitter is in our arena of what we like to do, so I am going to rule them out as one of the 5 that you can post about. They really are not very girly. Likewise, phones, computers, ipads are all out of the running. I am challenging myself to this, as I am really not a girly girly type of person, and I want to find that within myself. It’s not all about power suits, filofaxes, ipads and designer phones.
If you want to pass this along, pick bloggers that you want to find out more about, and challenge them to write up their 5 secret passions that make them feel good. The idea is to lift our spirits this week. The fact that there is a linky added, just makes it all the more worthwhile in doing.”
So, my Top Five:
- This won’t come as a surprise, but I am absolutely nuts about literature. I read my first real book at the age of 5. It was “The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe” by C.S. Lewis. I actually don’t remember this, it’s my mom who told me about it, I think. My whole family is kinda nerdy that way. My mom used to read books under her covers when they were supposed to sleep (I tried to pulled the same stunt, but sharing a room with a 6 years older brother does not facilitate things). My father is a long-time member of the “Book World”, which requires its members to buy something from its catalogue every three months and in return, gives big discounts. My brother used to really irritate me by lighting his lamp and reading very late in the night when I was trying to sleep. Until I started to do the same. I suspect we have more books in our home than clothes. I am also kind of a writer. So far, I’ve written only short stories published on the Internet, but I also wrote a book that I’m trying to get published. Really. I didn’t get much success so far, but I have a lot of time – and, unfortunately, it’s hard to make a debut in Poland, especially with a book. It’s easier to get published with a short story in a magazine.
- This won’t be a surprise either, but I’m also absolutely nuts for the Middle Ages. I love this period, it fascinates me big time. I’m especially tuned into the matière de Bretagne, the Arthurian legends. I may not be a real expert, but I certainly know a lot more than an average passer-by. I actually read the first versions of the legend, the French one, those of Chretien de Troyes and the Vulgate (well, I haven’t read all the Vulgate, it’s much too big, but still). If you ever had a question about Arthur, ask me. Even if I don’t know the answer, I’ll know where to look for one. I also enjoy reading and watching the recent versions of the legend, though sometimes they frustrate me a lot. (I mean, come on, Merlin BBC is a crappy tv show, it has absolutely nothing to do with the legends besides names, and I still watch it and actually like it.) The best recent version of Arthurian legend? “The Mists of Avalon” by Marion Zimmer Bradley. It’s not very accurate to the actual legend, but it’s very well written and very interestingly composed, ’cause everything is told from the point of view of female characters of the story, mostly Morgana, but also Guenevere and Igraine and others. It’s also very mystic and a little disturbing. Very good book. And if you’re looking for a movie, I’d recommend “Perceval le Gallois”, but I guess you wouldn’t understand it without the previous lecture of Chretien de Troyes. I know I wouldn’t. Other than that there is no really good adaptation. “Merlin” from 1998, the miniseries, is quite good at some points, but crappy at others. “King Arthur” has hardly anything to do with the legends. “Excalibur” is just plain wrong; I mean, it’s a crappy movie. It’s just boring. I can’t wait till April, when the new series starts – “Camelot”. I have high hopes for this!
- I don’t smoke cigarettes (I never actually even tried, and I don’t feel like I’m gonna ever try), but from time to time I really enjoy shisha. Usually I smoke it in the Tea Shop, when we gather with friends, get one shisha for several people and pass along the tube. But when I was in Egypt this last september, I bought my own shisha. It’s not very big, but really pretty. I smoke it once every two months, if not rarer, but I still love it. It makes me light-headed in a happy, positive way.
My Egyptian shisha
- From time to time, I like to play some computer games. I don’t do it much, because I don’t have time for this, but it’s a great way to relax sometimes. I play RPGs mostly, my favorites being Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines, Neverwinter Nights II, Planescape Torment and Knights of the Old Republic II. I like Civilisation, the Settlers and Heroes of Might and Magic too, though they are not RPGs. Usually, I prefer RTS to TBS, but Civilisation and Heroes are really great.
- I love to wake up in the morning, look at the clock and realize that I don’t have to get up. I love to just lay in the warm bed in the morning, on the verge between the dream and the reality, not quite conscious yet, but also not sleeping anymore. I love the feeling that I don’t have to do anything, I can stay there, in the warmth, and daydream as long as I want. It’s fabulous.
(Ok, I talk way too much.)
And now, I still don’t have all five people I could tag (not with PolPrairieMama tagging me and Ewa), so I’ll tag the two I can ;)
And tomorrow I’m going home, at last, to see my parents for the first time in month, so I’m quite excited. I’ll get back to you after the weekend then, if Internet will work, of course. Have a great end of the week :)
I feel blessed.
I watched the movie “Karol” today, both parts. Of course, I’ve seen it, like, ten times already. And every single time I’m starting to cry three minutes after the beginning and not stopping until five minutes after the end. The combined emotional charge of watching the life of our great Pope and the history in the background – especially in the first part – just overwhelms me.
This Man was always present in my life, since my birth; I even remember a recurring dream I had as a child, in which the Pope was coming to me, to my home, and giving me a little, metal box containing something very precious. I do not remember what this something was, but I do remember the feeling that accompanied it – the overwhelming joy, mixed with embarrassment and shyness. I remember wondering: why me? I never found out – every time I wanted to ask that question, the dream would end and I’d wake up.
I always regretted not having the possibility to attend one of His pilgrimages to Poland. I was too little to go by myself and my parents weren’t religious enough to take me. But I always knew He was there – a soothing presence, a bright spot. I was very religious child, back then.
I remember the day He died. I was praying for Him to get better. I knew the world without Him wouldn’t be the same. I was doing something on the computer when I found out – I read it somewhere on the Internet. I stared blankly at the screen for couple of minutes. I couldn’t believe it. God wouldn’t take this great man… would He? Then I started crying. The whole week was kind of blurry. Hidden behind the fog of tears. I remember national grieving and mourning. I remember going to school wearing a little white ribbon. It’s customary to wear the black one – but it was special. He was “the man in white”. He was a symbol of hope. And so we wore white ribbons.
For his funeral, I went to Kraków. I was living with my parents in Chorzów back then, and such a trip on my own was rather big for me. Kraków was a special city. It’s where He lived and taught, and served. Many people came to Kraków that day. There is a large field, called Błonia, where all major events that require big space for big crowds are held. That day the big screens were put there, and the altar for the mass. More than eight thousand people gathered there to watch the funeral held in Rome on the screens and celebrate the mass. There was this one moment that I won’t ever forget; eight thousand people kneeling on the ground, inclining their heads, hands folded, saying nothing… I heard nothing but the light breathing. The silence was almost absolute; it was an amazing moment.
This was almost six years ago. I didn’t even notice where all this time disappeared. I was fifteen, almost sixteen back then. Now I am almost twenty-two. I’ve grown a lot. I am no longer this religious, blind little girl. There are things I consider bad in the Church. It disappoints me a lot. I resolved that I disagree on many issues with the views of Vatican. I think the Pope was wrong in some things. (Let alone this new guy, whom I wished luck at the beginning, knowing he would never be “the Pope”, just “a pope”. I really gave him a chance, though; I even was there when he came to Poland, on this same field in Kraków. But he disappointed me too many times now.) But He was right most of the times. He brought so much good to this world! And so I was joyful when I heard about His imminent beatification on May 1st. I respect Him for what He’s done and love Him for how He was. I feel blessed that I could be a part of all this – that He was and still is a part of my life.
But the movie doesn’t show only a great man. It shows also a reality, His reality. History. My history. And I feel blessed because I live in a free country. I don’t have to live in fear. Fear of war… fear of oppression… fear of hunger… fear of poverty… I get to make my own decisions, I get to do with my life whatever I want. I get to cherish my life with my family and my friends. I don’t have to sacrifice anything. I can, but I don’t have to.
My grandmother was seven when Germans assailed Poland in 1939. She was 13 when the War ended. I don’t know what she’s been through. She never speaks of it. But then she had to endure the Communism and her own unhappy marriage. It was usual, patriarchal, poor family. My grandfather worked at the mine. He spent most of his salary on games – he was a gambler – and alcohol. My grandmother stayed home, taking care of her two children, my mom and my uncle. “Home” was an apartment in one of the famous Silesian “familoki”. It had one room and a kitchen. The toilet was outside, in the corridor, shared with another family. There was no bathroom. The only room was divided in two smaller ones; there was no wall added, just a big wardrobe. They didn’t have central heating, they had a steel stove. They had to bring coal all the way up (the apartment is on the fifth floor). They used a big washtub – no bathroom, remember? In the hardest times, they ate from one bowl; this is why my mom still eats everything so fast. If you weren’t fast, someone else was and you couldn’t eat enough. My grandfather abused his family. I don’t know if he ever touched them – it’s not exactly something you can ask – but I know he abused them mentally. Sometimes words hurt harder than worst bruises.
I was blessed, because I never knew poverty. Hunger. War. Oppression. My little problems now seem just that – little problems. Nothing I can’t get through. If my grandma could get through all this, why shouldn’t I get through whatever life has prepared for me? I have my family and friends. I have money – not much, maybe, but enough to live with dignity. I have education – something my grandmother didn’t have. And most of all, I have freedom. Freedom that I haven’t worked for; freedom gained with tears and blood of those who came before me. And for that, I feel, I have the moral responsibility to carry on that freedom to others. To perfect it in every way possible. To make it universal. To make other people feel as blessed as I do.
