dalleyfamily

by canardchronique | January 12, 2011 · 8:47 pm

The King’s- and Finley’s- Speech

Watched “The King’s Speech” the other night. We both thought it was incredible. Neither one of us really needed another reason to love Colin Firth, Helena Bonham Carter, or Geoffrey Rush, but we were given new reasons, nonetheless. A very good film.

Something struck me during the film, though. One of the ways that Geoffrey Rush combats Colin Firth’s stammer is by having him sing his thoughts to tunes he knows well, rather than trying to speak them. (There seems to be some pretty interesting research going on to explain the mechanics of this.) This made me think of Finley. She does not have a stutter, nor has she had incredible success starring in period dramas (sidenote: Mr. Darcy, please do not shame all the men in the audience by diving into that lake again). That having been said, she WILL contentedly sing all of her dialogue (AND internal monologue, if you let her), based on whatever existing melody she is thinking of at the moment. Lana was remarking on another form of this one day, talking about how something she has never understood is the draw of the musical as a theatrical form– how she has always thought to herself, when a character warbles into song halfway through a sentence, that such behaviour was unnatural– that in life, no-one ever really carried on like that. Now, there is the shining example of our Finley, who can’t STOP singing. Even if you ask.

Perhaps there IS some karma involved, then.

In practice, this method of communication is fairly pleasant. Mostly pleasant, in fact, until (rarely) a sudden change occurs, and it becomes… grating. (“Grating” like falling off your skateboard halfway down a hill & rolling into the gravel margin is grating.) It can be particularly disconcerting when certain subjects are broached, however. The musical-attending public is totally used to songs discussing relationships in general, and love in specific. Death or dying is a commonly covered subject as well. Remarkable events are often sung about, and even the ‘normal’ events of the day to some extent; especially if you live on a riverboat, in 19th century France, in a junkyard, etc. What does NOT get sung about, usually, is the need to have someone “check your bottom” after having completed your toilette. This is relatively common at ours, now. Though the lyrics change and are adapted to the exigencies of the moment, I can tell you that I greatly prefer the melody for “DAAAAD / can you PLEA-EASE / COME to CHECK / my BOTTTTTTOOOMMMM” to come from, say, something she has just heard from Pandora on the stereo, or some Zumba song Lana was playing, over ANY nursery rhyme. Some of this comes from a frustration with quasi-compulsive repetition; anyone who has seen the Wee Sing Together video (BTW, a great “revenge” gift for friends with children– thank YOU for that, Matt & Nicole), can attest to the soul-death that accompanies your fifth time through some of those tired old chestnuts (“MY name/is SALLY Smith /THIS is where I LIIIVVVVEEE…”); having the “request for attendance” made using nursery rhyme melodies, in Finley’s piping voice (and I never really understood what “piping” meant before we had her) is… well, see the definition of “grating” above.

The other side of this coin, however, is the fascinating stream-of-consciousness travel narrative you sometimes get walking down the street. Frequently with lines that rhyme, rock & roll couplet-style– “there’s another man / sitting on a bench / I like fairies / and I don’t like the Witch.” There are often witches in Finley’s songs. Also “sparkles”, “locks”, “grinches”, and “babies.” And there is usually use of the word “shuuk” or “schuck,” which is a Finley creation and seems to be an onomatopoetic interjection (or maybe an action verb?); you have to hear how many ways she can insert and/or rhyme it to believe it. All of which is pretty hilarious to have sung directly into your ear as you carry her around on your shoulders. Of course, as mentioned before, there are those rare moments when it goes from being interesting and entertaining to feeling like you’ve got somebody else’s headphones on, with no volume control, and no way to control the “shuffle.”

I took her to the Islington Central Library yesterday– we got her a “cart” & eight books. (Evidently, more things rhyme with “cart” than “card,” so she will be having a “library cart.”) She sung about the library, the books, and the walk all the way back. It was great. I think a trip to Madame Tussaud’s or the London Dungeon might make for even funnier songs, though. Or the Jack the Ripper walking tour?

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(EDIT: No, world, I am not serious about taking a three-year-old to the London Dungeon or on a Jack the Ripper walking tour.)

Portrait of a Three-Year-Old Rhapsode

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Filed under In England

by canardchronique | January 11, 2011 · 1:10 am

It Has Happened. Eli Is Saying “Toh-mah-toe.”

Adaptation has come quickly, here in Highbury Terrace. Last Friday, I asked Eli if he was looking forward to school “tomorrow.” (Note: this is a tactic often used, and it ALWAYS seems to catch him out. Another favorite is asking him “what he did in school today” on Saturday night.) He replied, “Oh, yeah, it should be good.” I then pointed out, as I always do, that he would NOT in fact, be heading to school (unless he wanted to sit there alone, outside the closed school) and he replied, “Oh, MAN! I was looking forward to it.” This surprised us, a little, given that we think of Eli as being a little TOO easy going, and unlikely to have strong feelings on events and activities not of his own designation. I asked him what he was looking forward to– knowing that a few hours ago, I had asked him about “whether he had made friends with anyone in his class” and he had answered “Yeah, I was talking to some kids– one was named Daniel. I think. And another… might have started… with ‘C’…”– and therefore thinking it unlikely that companionship and fellow-feeling were going to be the big “draws” for him. But, no– he said he was looking forward to seeing his class. How odd. While he had days he had really looked forward to going to Acacia, he had attended there for so much longer… it seems he is finding things he likes here (and there at school, specifically).

Perhaps it is the occasional “floor show.” Eli calmly told us, after his first day, that there had been not ONE, but TWO fights. The descriptions were, in typical Eli fashion, quite vague (“Yeah… it was two girls… fighting about, I dunno, cards or something? You know, football cards? Maybe it was a boy and a girl… or a boy and a girl and a girl. Yeah. Maybe…”), but we were somewhat taken aback. It sounded like it was more shouting and squabbling than pushing and, I don’t know, STABBING. So that was good. I asked Eli if they were fighting over him (remember, central details like “what were they fighting about” are ALWAYS confused and/or difficult to remember), and he said “No. At least… I don’t THINK so…” So, perhaps, the thought that more of the “sweet science” might be on display had a hook for him. We will never know, as he could not elucidate the draw even then. It was good to know he was interested in going back, though, for WHATEVER reason. (For more on his first day, see “Eli’s First Day of School“– and I should also say that the disturbances in his class at Laycock were NOT typical, and happened because his teacher was drawn unexpectedly from the room for a protracted period on the second day back from Christmas Holiday.)

Maybe he was just looking forward to riding that fascinating scooter. As we walk (or an adult walks and he “glides”… I’m not kidding. He calls it that.) to his school, we have the choice of walking for much of the way on the Highbury Fields border path (continuous asphalt, relatively recently paved, 6 foot or more wide), or on the other side of the street– British tiled pavements, also newish, 3 foot wide (in many areas much less); as seen in the background of almost every image here. Given the choice, he invariably chooses the pavements. Now, why, you may ask, would someone rolling along on 4 inch hard plastic wheels choose a surface with thousands of jarring seams & edges over asphalt with the occasional ripple due to tree growth? Wait for it… wait for it… he says the asphalt is (and I DIRECTLY quote him) “bumpier.”

Maybe it is this skewed interpretation of the world that has caused the immediate transposition of “football” for “soccer.” (Okay, we did coach him on that, a little, over the years– BUT STILL). The swap of “dinner” for “lunch.” The question “Are all shoes ‘trainers,’ or do some not train you to do anything? Like, do American shoes TRAIN you, or not?” The recurrent requests for biscuits. And today, the mention that they had “a tuna, a mashed poh-TAY-toe, and a salad of stick cucumber and toh-MAH-toes for ‘dinner’ at school.”

I like his idiosyncrasies, such as they have manifested so far. (Like his use of exclamation points! At the end of every sentence! Or fragment thereof! In his book reports!) Hopefully, Finley will be allowed many opportunities to enjoy being here, even while at home with me– it would be great if she enjoyed it (and was as conscious of it) at least as much as he seems to be.

Sawyer is just going to be pissed, later, when she realizes she moved to a foreign country for a “broadening” experience when she wasn’t old enough to remember it. (And she IS already about as “broad” as she can be!)