I'm feeling a bit worse than yesterday. But I suspected I would. If snot were gold...
At least we got to see the National Theater's Frankenstein, as directed by Danny Boyle and written by Nick Dear. Watching Benedict Cumberbatch's performance, the endless, agonizing contortions of a body trying to learn to move, the mouth struggling to speech – brilliant. The sheer physical endurance and strength and coordination necessary to accomplish what Cumberbatch accomplishes, it wasn't something I'd guessed he were capable of. Dear and Boyle have done for Frankenstein's "creature" what John Gardner did for Grendel. There's a scene where he – the "creature – recites a portion of Paradise Lost that almost had me in tears. As did a scene later in the film with Elizabeth Frankenstein, when he laments having learned hate and the desire for vengeance. I'm so glad Spooky got tickets.
We carved pumpkins yesterday. There are photos, but I wasn't up to editing them this morning. Maybe I'll add the to this entry later.