romance and zombies

I've been reading a lot of "girly" books lately. Not that this should be any big surprise, as I have already read the entire Austen canon and loved them all, but usually I read them interspersed with fantasy novels or Sci-Fi, which tends to be written with a more masculine audience in mind. At the moment, however, I am reading both Jane Eyre and Elizabeth Gaskell's North and South (It was suggested by Katie while I was home, and yesterday it appeared in the book return at work, so I picked it up.). I'm usually a one book at a time person, but the inability to care about or finish People of the Book (in spite of my best efforts) has sparked a bad habit of reading only a few chapters at a time and then moving on to something else. I may have to find something new to read that is so good I can't put it down, just to get back on track with my reading.

The last book that drew me in that way was the first in the current series of girlie books, but with an unusual twist. It was Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Much of the text is Austen's original romance, but Seth Grahame-Smith has added hordes or the living dead and made the Bennet sisters warriors of the highest skill. It's amazing how well he has managed to bring in death and mayhem without actually making any major changes in the story line. Of course, this means that while newcomers will still enjoy the gruesome descriptions and illustrations, only a true Austen fan who knows the original will realize the true cleverness of their integration or catch all the jokes.

My favorite part, which had me laughing out loud in the Chicago airport on my way home a few weeks ago, was the scene in which Elizabeth Bennet is first visiting Lady Catherine (known now for her famous skill in the deadly arts and zombie-slaying abilities) and is questioned on her upbringing and training. Instead of asking about whether the governess has left them, she asks if their ninjas have left, and cannot comprehend the idea that five girls could have been brought up without ninjas to defend them in the early years of their training. Ninjas!

Of course, the changes also include a crass joke about Darcy's "most English parts" and gratuitous vomiting, but on the whole it is a good, fun read for anyone who loves Victorian romance and zombies. And if you were afraid it can no longer be taken as serious literature, Seth Grahame-Smith included discussion questions in the back of the book, including what Austen might have been trying to symbolize with the plague of undead spreading across England and, my personal favorite: "Does Mrs. Bennet have any redeeming qualities?"

As ridiculous as the concept may seem at first, the integration of original text and supernatural happenings is so well done that it makes me want to try it myself. Of course, zombies are out at this point, because it wouldn't work just to copy this one. I wonder what I could try instead?

-Kim

Two shifts as a tour guide are now behind me. Friday wasn't too busy, and I was only there in the afternoon, but still got to talk to several people and answer questions. I even met a mother and daughter from Marshall, MN and got to connect about our Midwestern roots--the mom apparently attended SDSU.

On Saturday the highlight of my day didn't come from interacting directly with an individual but simply observing one. One of our visitors was cartoon mouse Speedy Gonzales in human form, right down to the hat. He mustache was even waxed to stick out to the sides, which completed the effect.

Another great part of Saturday was free ice cream on the Common, which I picked up during my lunch break. There was some sort of charity festival going on, and Ben & Jerry's was giving away free samples of their newest ice ream creation--Flipped Out ice cream bowls. After we closed up shop for the day I went to Haymarket (where I intended to buy vegetables, but the fruit was so much more appealing) with Esther, the tour guide team leader and PK. First, though, we had to stop at the parsonage, which I didn't realize was where we were headed until suddenly I was standing in Dr. Hugenberger's living room. Apparently the head pastor and his family are given an apartment at the top of 3 Park Street, one of the several connected buildings in the church complex.

I ended the night with some much needed relaxation, painting my nails green (a personal spring/summer tradition) and watching a favorite movie, Alex and Emma, which I finally realized is set in Boston. The location just didn't matter to me in any of my previous viewings, but now I recognize every place the characters visit on their day out--the Public Garden, a Duck Boat tour at the Museum of Science, and of course the T. Pair that with the fact that it's also a ridiculous comedy about the writing process, and it's a perfect good time for me.

On Sunday I had to be at church insanely early because I was playing the prelude for both morning services with three other string players. I really enjoyed getting to play in a group again, and can't wait until the next opportunity, even if it does mean getting up at 6am on a Sunday.

-Kim

training days

This week has been busy, to say the least. I spent the last three days training with the Park Street Church Freedom Trail tour guide team to prepare to meet the tourists today. Training was actually rather haphazard--our team leader spent the school year in France and is slowly adapting back to speaking English all the time and remembering how the trail worked last year.

Part of the training involved meeting with members of the ministerial staff to discuss how we should answer theological questions and what the church's official stance is on some sensitive issues. It's great to know that the ministers are so supportive of us, and they were constantly reminding us that not only is this a service job, it is community outreach and an opportunity for evangelism, with the right circumstances. I'm still rather nervous to begin, but I think I can handle it.

Also as part of our training, the team walked the Freedom Trail together. Well, most of it. We got the official, costumed guided tour from the visitor's center to Faniuel Hall, and then went on our own to Old North Church (we skipped the sites across the river because we were tired and hungry). The guide was entertaining, but we got to hear firsthand how little they actually say about the history of Park Street Church and the inaccuracies in the speech. It will be good to explain to visitors what it means to be a Congregational church and that the sails of Old Ironsides were not sewn in the church, but in the building previously on the spot, as well as just giving a more full picture of the broad history of the church and the many organizations it began.

The best part of the tour we took was visiting Old North Church. Our team leader was asking questions of one of the guides there, and when she told him who we were, he told us that our status as guides meant we got to have a "special tour." He immediately grabbed a key on a huge ring and led us to through a door in the entryway and up several flights of stairs. Our destination: the steeple. The first level up was a storage room, but then we entered a more attic-esque area of old wooden steps and dust. In all, we went up at least six full sets of twisty, wooden stairs, and numerous short turnings to move upward through the ever-narrowing space. Crys is afraid of heights, so she didn't make it all the way up, but the view from the top was amazing. I can see why this steeple was chosen to give the lantern signal over the river--you can see for miles, and in the days before skyscrapers, it would have been seen for miles as well. We didn't get to stay long, but I made sure to look down on the roof of David and Josiah's apartment below. If only I had brought my camera... (the plan had been to walk the trail on Thurs, but after looking at the weather Esther decided on Wed morning that we should do it that day instead) Old North was also a good stop just to hear how other sites do their tours. Their script is very short, so that gave us a sense of relief about how much we would have to memorize. And really, most of the time we will be answering questions rather than doing scripted tours, which should give us opportunity to remember all the different aspects of the history that might be forgotten in a single recitation.

I also got to poke around in the archive to set up the displays in the welcome center and sanctuary. The archive is rather small, since most of the materials are actually housed at the Congregational Library, around the corner. The archive is located in the basement of 3 Park Street, which used to be a commercial building. The basement has two bank vaults, one of which has been converted into the archive. I can't even describe how exciting it is to see a bank vault door on an archive. It's not locked (the door to the basement is instead), but that's beside the point.

This afternoon, after my shift at the library, I'll be headed back to church for the umpteenth time this week to finally start meeting the tourists. I'm still nervous, but also excited. I think this is going to be a good summer job for me.

-Kim

Beauty of the Ordinary

On my last full day in South Dakota, I woke up in Sioux Falls. On Tuesday I drove down to hang out with a few friends, had a good time, and ended up sleeping at Audrey's place rather than drive back to Brookings in the the middle of the night. Audrey and her family had to get up early and go to work, but she assured me that I could sleep as long as I wanted, so when I got up the house was empty and silent. (Well, not quite, since Adam was still asleep on the basement floor and Audrey's dad was in the shop in the garage, but the point here is the mood.)

I was ready to head out before 9:00am (to get back to Brookings for a shower and a lunch date with Katie), which in the city would be rush hour, but in the country is still a peaceful time.

When I stepped out the front door onto the front porch of the house, I was blindsided by the beauty of a misty country morning. The sky was solid cloud, so the light coming through felt more like early morning than mid-morning. There were no car sounds from the nearby roads, and the house is too far out of town for any of the Sioux Falls background bustle to reach the ears. Instead, all I could hear was the wind in the trees, the leaves dancing, the long grass swaying, morning birds chirping quietly. Such stillness that a small breeze could compose such a symphony.

My breath caught in my throat at the beauty of the moment and my feet froze on the porch, unable to move forward. It was an effort even to walk to the car, though I went slowly. My first instinct, which I had to ignore, was to make tea or cocoa and sit on the porch just to absorb the sound, smell and sight of the South Dakota countryside and store it up for the long months of city life ahead.

A moment like this is impossible in a city, even one so green and open as Boston. The noise never stops. And the sky is so much smaller.

The prairie may not seem as majestic as the mountains or the ocean or as picturesque as sheer cliff faces or giant glaciers to those who have never called it home, but it has a beauty I could never fully describe, and which my mother begins to capture in her amazing work. It is an unassuming beauty that seeps into the soul gradually and takes you over before you realize the scent of dirt has become a perfume. Am I biased because these open skies and seas of grass and grain have always been my home? Perhaps. But I will continue to proclaim their beauty.

As wonderful as my time in Boston has been, and no matter where I end up going from here, I think my heart will always belong to the ordinary beauty of the prairie.

-Kim

Grandma Elsie

Today we drive to Minot, ND to join the rest of the extended family in celebrating grandma Elsie's 90th birthday last month. As part of a group gift to her, we all made pages for a memory book. The photo below is one of the ones I included, and what follows is the text I added to the page.


Grandma,

You’ve always covered me with love. First it was a quilt with nursery characters to delight a young child. Then, when I graduated from high school, you made me a quilt sewn out of memories to take with me as I left home. Now you send me notes and scraps of news from the fabric of your life so I can have something in my mailbox and feel like I’m not so far from home after all. Thank you for your love and all the reminders of it.

Love,

Kim