I must admit I’ve been devouring Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows once again, in preparation for the movie. I saw it last night, and I was very satisfied overall. The cinematography was beautiful, and the movie’s screenplay was generally faithful to the book (give or take a couple of subplots deleted to condense it into a little over two hours), and the added elements served their purpose well (I won’t go into detail, but suffice to say those were visual elements to explain certain events in the book, plus throw in a couple of moments of romantic tensions and hilarity). Of course, the cliffhanger ending means another long wait for the last installment of the movies!
In other news, here’s what Blooey got me last Wednesday:
I will leave the explanation of Alice Kuipers’ “Life on the Refrigerator Door” on a separate post, but here’s the inscription on the inside of my copy of Q&A:
It’s signed by none other than Vikas Swarup himself. OK, I must admit I haven’t read Q&A yet, but I am such a big fan of Slumdog Millionaire. I remember the thing that impressed me most about the movie (apart from the soundtrack, that is) was that it had such a simple, yet powerful story. Here’s the unlikeliest of quiz show winners battling against all odds, drawing out knowledge from his personal experiences, to win the grand prize.
I dropped by the sale at National Bookstore in Market! Market! just this afternoon, as alerted by my best friend who saw a “Stars of the World Cup 2006” book for only P100. And I quote: “It has spreads of Xabi Alonso, Fernando Torres, Iker Casillas, Raul, and Jose Antonio Reyes.” I passed up on the book, but got these instead:
A cheap copy of Kiran Desai’s “The Inheritance of Loss” and a dated guidebook to Paris (so what if it’s two years old? I bet it will still be very helpful!).
I just want to share that there was a lady who cut in front of me on the line at the cashier (woman, just because your friend is in front of me doesn’t mean that your pass to pay before me!). She saw the Spanish workbook I was holding and wanted a copy for herself. I told her it was the last copy already, so she pestered the cashier about it. I did my best imitation of Fernando Torres’ bitchface on her. Puta, por favor.