Spooky needed to pick up some glucose test strips for Sophie, so I got dressed and rode along. Afterwards, we went to La Fonda in Candler Park for a snack, chips and queso dip and fried plantains. Then we dropped by Books Again in Decatur. I found a copy of Reptiles and Amphibians of North America (1971) by herpetologist Alan E. Leviton. I probably wouldn't have picked it up, as we're out of shelf space at the moment, but I'm a sucker for books with associated artefacts. And this book had an envelope tucked inside, postmarked August 29th, 1973. It was from the book's publisher, Doudleday and Co., the invoice sent to the book's original owner, a Mr. S. Hutton of Atlanta, who'd purchased it via the mail. Spooky took some photos (behind the cut), because one day we'll move or this marvelous little bookshop will close.
The gratuitous exterior shot.
Inside, looking out.
Octavio, the shop's cat.
Yep, that would be me.
After the bookshop, we drove over to L5P (Little Five Points to non-Atlantians) and wasted time at Junkman's Daughter looking at clothes and tchotchkes and kitsch of all sorts. Oh, and all the Gothic Lolita books, which I adore, but, fortunately, not enough to buy. Junkman's Daughter is one of the last things at L5P that feels the way L5P used to feel, before the yuppies and gentrification. Afterwards, we drove up to Midtown for the 7:15 showing of The Proposition.
I'm really no good at movie reviews, so I won't try. But I will say that The Proposition (2005) is a frelling amazing film, just a few inches shy of truly and entirely brilliant. I'm talking Peckinpah, Joseph Conrad brilliant. It's both one of the best westerns (sensu lato) and one of the best postmodern horror films I've ever seen. It blends a relentless visual brutality with an unexpected understatedness, juxtaposing sudden and terrible acts of violence with a suffocating sense of solitude and desolation which perfectly matches its bleak Australian outback setting. Nick Cave's screenplay wisely gives the very best lines to John Hurt. There's a scene where an aboriginal man servant is discharged, and after he leaves the house, but before he exits the yard (an absurd attempt to recreate a lush Victorian garden in a dusty, sun-baked wasteland), he removes his shoes and socks and leaves them behind as he exits a gate in the white picket fence. As if to say, this is a land where men must adapt if they hope to survive, not a land that men can civilize and adapt to fit their own needs. And, for me, this moment seemed to be right at the heart of the film. Anyway, yes, brilliant, and you should see it on the big screen if possible, as the cinematography is superb. Here's a link to the film's website and the trailer.
After the movie, we had slices from Fellini's in Candler Park for dinner. Back home, because I really didn't want to go to face bed and my nightmares with The Proposition so fresh and undiluted in my mind, we watched Hoodwinked (2005). It's not a bad film, though I didn't really like the animation style. It tries too hard to be Shrek and never comes close. But it does have a few very funny moments. I think Twitchy and the singing goat were the best bits. And there you go. That was my yesterday.
I'm not quite sure what today will be. Writing, I hope. I want to get the next issue of Sirenia Digest finished up. I have some vague hope that there will be time between it and the arrival of the Daughter of Hounds CEM to get an actual full-fledged short story written. We shall see.