<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671</id><updated>2011-10-04T05:17:47.674-07:00</updated><category term='lili wilkinson'/><category term='oscar wilde'/><category term='the sound and the fury'/><category term='the picture of dorian gray'/><category term='anthony burgess'/><category term='eliza boans'/><category term='a clockwork orange'/><category term='albert camus'/><category term='George Orwell'/><category term='the outsider'/><category term='scatterheart'/><category term='william faulkner'/><category term='black dog books'/><category term='Nineteen Eighty-Four'/><title type='text'>eliza doo-very-little</title><subtitle type='html'>i'm rich. i don't have to do a lot. fact.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671.post-6054406262452801404</id><published>2010-12-11T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T05:57:16.520-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza boans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anthony burgess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='a clockwork orange'/><title type='text'>A Clockwork Orange. Welly, welly, welly, well</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TQOBUBmefvI/AAAAAAAAAC4/pg_wZ_RnFgU/s1600/anthony-burgess-a-clockwork-orange.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TQOBUBmefvI/AAAAAAAAAC4/pg_wZ_RnFgU/s320/anthony-burgess-a-clockwork-orange.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549421346877767410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you why I hate sleepovers. The last sleepover I went to was one at Marianne's and we were like thirteen years old and we were up to like midnight, and we ended up watching SBS. As you know, NO ONE should watching SBS at that hour unless they like movies that have fifteen different warnings before the movie starts. We accidentally ended up watching Clockwork Orange, which totally freaked me out and scarred me for life. Then Marianne goes "I think the main character is kinda hot" and Lexi says to me "according to the love calculator Alex Burgess and Eliza Boans score 94%" and I was like "he's a murderer okay??" Fast forward three years later and well... I guess God is funny or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up in the middle of the night in  cold sweat over this memory and I thought I'd hunt out the novel since a) I review, like, classics on this blog and b) I might find some answers and get over something. Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;"What's it going to be then, eh? There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim. Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus begins A Clockwork Orange. It's narrated in Nadsat, which is like the teenspeak of Alex and his friends of that age group and class. At first it's a little hard to understand, cos I think there's like 200 or so words made up for the author for the novel, but after a few pages I found I got right into it. I didn't have to understand every single word to get the gist of it if that makes any sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's about Alex and his friends who like to go out every night wrecking havoc on the town, until one day when Alex tries to assert his authoritayy and his friends decide to bail his out and let him get blamed for murder. Ack. Friends huh? Alex gets shipped off to be rehabilitated and turned into a "good person" and it's this freedom of choice and what is morality that the book centres on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know a lot has been made of the violence (which is how I first got introduced to it), but it's also very clever and surprisingly funny. And I mean really, really funny as well. Like when Alex goes into a music shop and it's overrun by kids who are younger than him and they speak in this weirdass language of their own going heee! and they're like, a parody of teenyboppers and they think that Alex is like ancient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there is Alex himself. The anti-hero. He's a murderer, a thug and a rapist. I should hate him, but in a way I found I grew to really relate to him and it wasn't what he did that disgusted me, but what in turn happens to him. There's something heartbreaking in the concept that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what goes around, comes around&lt;/span&gt; - and when it does, three times harder, it really does hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The final chapter is the most sweetest thing I might have ever read and maybe one of my favorite of all time. It's the "missing chapter" from the movie. In the novel, Alex is back in society and he has a new gang and he's out again doing what he did before, but he's changing. He like thinks to himself "akshully, I'd rather be at home with a cup of tea", which leaves us with the message that you can try to change a person as much as you like, but in the end as they grow up, they change anyway. And that made me think, like, about myself and how things are changing in my own life. I wouldn't mind if I met Alex, he's unapologetic, like me. I'm sure one of us will kill the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought about this book for a long time; I'm still thinking about it. As you can tell, I'm in a right stroppy-sad mood, but like thoughtful and kinda... emo. Erk. Before you know it I'll stop caring about what I wear and start going around in tutus that look like they're from Pumpkin Patch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highly recommended if you can take violence and black humour and are sick of pissy dystopian reads and want like a totes proper dytopian read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1259835794389788671-6054406262452801404?l=elizaboans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/6054406262452801404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/12/clockwork-orange-welly-welly-welly-well.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/6054406262452801404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/6054406262452801404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/12/clockwork-orange-welly-welly-welly-well.html' title='A Clockwork Orange. Welly, welly, welly, well'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TQOBUBmefvI/AAAAAAAAAC4/pg_wZ_RnFgU/s72-c/anthony-burgess-a-clockwork-orange.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671.post-3457524036111245852</id><published>2010-07-23T00:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-11T06:01:21.936-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza boans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='william faulkner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the sound and the fury'/><title type='text'>The Sound of My Fury</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TElBgNK-6_I/AAAAAAAAACo/kbOnc1Zr4vE/s1600/sound+and+the+fury+cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TElBgNK-6_I/AAAAAAAAACo/kbOnc1Zr4vE/s320/sound+and+the+fury+cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496996841729747954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I know I haven't posted for ages. Err, do I have an excuse? Err, sometimes nail polish takes ages to dry before I can type?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to review my fav classic book. Let me start by saying that this is a OMG WTF book. I started  reading this and it made absolutely no sense. I was like "hold on there  *Billy Faulks*". Who is Quentin? Is it a girl or a boy? Did someone have  a sex change? But then I find out there are two Jasons and two Maurys  along with the two Quentins and I am like who are all these people? The  sex change actually sounds more plausible. But because I don’t want to  be, like, reading some stupid chick lit book with a stupid title like  “Harriet Potter and the Way Awesum Snog” (you know who you are!) I am  going to persevere with my totally boffin book and I don’t care if no  one wants to sit next to me at lunchtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not that totally  dumb and I figure out that the first chapter is being narrated by Benjy  who is an “idiot son” (no, I am no longer taking about the ppl at my  school, I am talking about the novel) and has no sense of time or space,  so his thoughts are everywhere. I also decided there is no point in  trying to figure anything out, so I just flow along with the narrative  (and enjoy the writing, which is actually really good).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  second chapter is even more confusing. We’ve switched narrators and are  now with Quentin (the boy one). He seems like a really intelligent and  kind guy and his thoughts start to make sense when out of nowhere…  DALTON AMES! DALTON AMES! He is the biggest emo ever. And this is 1910. I  didn’t even think emo were invented back then. I’m like “calm down  Quents, I know you don’t like this guy Dalton, but don’t lose your head  over it…” But he does and even though I am still so confused, I feel so  heartbroken for Quentin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next two chapters – okay, I’m starting  to get it! Third chapter is narrated by Jason (the second one) and he  talks totally linear (even though he's a total dick). And to my surprise I find that when he mentions  people and events, even though he doesn’t elaborate on it, I’m going  hey! I know who and what he’s talking about! It’s like I’ve absorbed  bits of gossip (that I am good at) from the first 2 chapters and I just  *know*. And the final chapter is in third person POV so it is pretty  clear and I’m like okay, wow then. It was kinda fun! And worth the  effort, phew! Dude, My brain is sweating bucketloads!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So is this  William Faulkner genius? He surely presents a story in a way I have  never seen before. And unlike a normal story, which is hard to re-read  cos you don’t want to read the same exposition *over again*, this is  like a book you can just pick up and randomly read passages. This is a  book that tries to make feelings, rather than events make a Sound and I  guess that is where the title is from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself re-reading  the Quentin chapter a lot. It makes me sad. It’s like emo poetry without  the crappiness and I love all the feelings – is Quentin chapter the  first ever ‘teen novel’ about teen suicide? I like to think so. And it  sure is loud and furious and all things beautiful you find in damaged  people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1259835794389788671-3457524036111245852?l=elizaboans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/3457524036111245852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/07/sound-of-my-fury_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/3457524036111245852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/3457524036111245852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/07/sound-of-my-fury_23.html' title='The Sound of My Fury'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TElBgNK-6_I/AAAAAAAAACo/kbOnc1Zr4vE/s72-c/sound+and+the+fury+cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671.post-1410044135014020672</id><published>2010-07-22T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T00:05:50.846-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lili wilkinson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza boans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black dog books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scatterheart'/><title type='text'>I :Scatterheart: U - Scatterheart by Lili Wilkinson</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TEk-Y5O_oeI/AAAAAAAAACg/8MYcgV2EKsQ/s1600/scatterheart+cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TEk-Y5O_oeI/AAAAAAAAACg/8MYcgV2EKsQ/s320/scatterheart+cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496993417583895010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TEk-Y5O_oeI/AAAAAAAAACg/8MYcgV2EKsQ/s1600/scatterheart+cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“Once upon a time, there was a girl called Scatterheart, who was selfish and vain, with a heart as fickle as the changing winds...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanna Cheshire is rich and spoilt. She has servants to wait on her hand and foot — and Thomas, a passionate young tutor who fills her head with stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one day her father disappears, and she is left to fend for herself. Alone and penniless, she is sentenced to transportation for a crime she didn't commit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once Hannah considered Thomas beneath her: a servant, a commoner. Now she thinks of him more and more.&lt;br /&gt;But will she ever see him again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One girl‘s adventure to find happiness becomes a fairytale within a fairytale. A romantic story of power and love.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I am a snoot these days and only read the old stuff, but I will review the occasional modern book as a special exception. In my mailbox I have Scatterheart by Lili Wilkinson, sent to me by black dog books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has a brand spanking new purdy PURDY cover and I was immediately drawn to it because it has a young girl on the cover. I’m a young girl, I like to read about other young girls, that’s the fact. Then I find out that it’s about Australian History. I don’t know about you, but whenever we cover Australian History in class, I seriously make to sit up the back with the indie kids and pretend not to fall asleep, I mean convicts and first fleets and Captain Cooks and stuff? That’s boring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I decided to give Scatterheart a go because the blurb sounds pretty good, about a girl who gets accused of a crime she didn’t commit (me likey) and gets sent to ye olde Australia and she has a BIG story to tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, lets say that the story sucked me completely in. I was supposed to do my homework, but I stayed up and read this book instead. The premise is that Hannah makes a big mistake by getting accused of a crime she didn't commit, but the real guilt she feels is over rejecting her kind and smart tutor Thomas because she is too proud. And along with this parallel is the fairytale of Scatterheart, a story that we learn bit by bit, finding that it mirrors the story that Hannah goes through herself.&lt;br /&gt;Scatterheart is a journey of massive physical proportions, over oceans and basically all of Hell, but at the heart is an internal journey of Hannah trying to find the heart that she literally scattered to the wind and wants back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book, like, really spoke to me. I think everyone one of us can be counted guilty of doing something stupid, like rejecting something that would make us happy, only to find out too late. And also finding out we only know this because something very terrible happens instead. Hannah rejects Thomas only to find life goes really wrong and she has to suffer all sorts of abuse first in jail and then on a convict boat. I spent the whole book going, “if only she knew! Ahh, this is horrible, I wish she had said yes to Thomas cos he was a nice dude and she really was into him and she would have been okay.” So if you have ever felt this way, this book will make you confront it and it will make you cry. Not that I cried. Who moi? Okay, so I bawled my eyes out, what are you going to do? Deport me to Australia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The verdict: I found that Australian history can be really interesting. I like how it’s told from the POV of a girl, which is really refreshing and important (yo! Girl power!). It’s pretty gruesome. But awesome cos Hannah grows up because of it. She’s feisty. I love a strong heroine. I want to meet Hannah and give her hugz. I won’t give away the ending, but if you want to read something that makes your own scatterheart go *thud* (oh come on! I know you secretly like romance) and go “hey, our history is kinda cool” - read this book!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ps - this is a re-post. Blogger "ate" my original entry AKA Eliza stupidly clicked delete&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1259835794389788671-1410044135014020672?l=elizaboans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/1410044135014020672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-scatterheart-u-scatterheart-by-lili.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/1410044135014020672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/1410044135014020672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-scatterheart-u-scatterheart-by-lili.html' title='I :Scatterheart: U - Scatterheart by Lili Wilkinson'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/TEk-Y5O_oeI/AAAAAAAAACg/8MYcgV2EKsQ/s72-c/scatterheart+cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671.post-7416887938264520224</id><published>2010-05-04T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T21:12:45.646-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza boans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the outsider'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='albert camus'/><title type='text'>on the wrong side of the outside</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S-DuJQLwiZI/AAAAAAAAACA/HfYBuka7Woc/s1600/The+Outsider.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467631790358301074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S-DuJQLwiZI/AAAAAAAAACA/HfYBuka7Woc/s320/The+Outsider.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, to be honest, the first thing I thought when I got this book was “woah this is thin!” And by that I mean, like, novella thin and nothing like the you-know-who girls at school who think they’re supermodels. Then I thought “great, I can just get this over and done with quick”. Y’know, like when a boy asks you out and you go “what is it?” and he says “oh, just a soy milkshake” and you think “Guess it won’t take more than an hour. Fine.” You also think “why soy”? but ANYWAY back to the book….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I wouldn’t like this novel. It involves a grown man, the death of his mother and politics and extenshia….existensionlis…*philosophy stuff* - none of the stuff I can relate to at all. But it’s a thin book, I was bored, so I thought I’d take it down to the grass by the lake and maybe the boys might catch me reading a smart book and think “wow, brains and hotness, ima ask her to the ball.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finished this book I was like I LOVE THIS BOOK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I like how it has MOTHER ISSUES. We don’t get to meet Meursault’s mum, we find out about the same time as he does that she has died. And that’s when things start to go wrong. Everyone expects him to be all criez, but instead Meursault acts completely normal and that’s when ppl start to think he’s a bad person. Okay, I think I can safely say that everyone at one time or another has had a complex relationship with their mum and if something really horrible happens… well I can understand that ppl will act differently. Some ppl are good at expressing their feelings and some pple aren’t. Build a bridge. It doesn’t mean they don’t care. Meursault goes into some sort of post-traumatic stress and goes numb. So even tho everyone is like “what’s this dudes’ problem?”, I felt sorry for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there’s a MURDER. Meursault gets invited to some sort of adult schoolies at this place by the ocean and due to a really bad chain of events, ends up killing someone at the beach. So he has to go to jail and everyone tries to get him to criez some more and say he regretted it, but the dude is like, "I didn’t know the person, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind and it just happened – what do you want me to say?” I am not advocating murder, but it’s not like he’s an “evil” person. Some bad stuff went down and as a reader you are asked the Q – okay so this guy is a villain. Do you condemn him or do you think you can understand him better than that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is, like, Existentialism (see I can spell it) which basically is “we exist, crap happens and sometimes there’s no meaning to life”. So like wow, I learnt something. It really got me thinking afterwards. Like how someone who just tells the truth gets blasted by society. I mean how many times have I told someone that their outfit looks awful (cos it does) and I get not thanks? In fact, everyone hates me for it. I thought Meursault was brave in the end for telling the truth. I felt bad for the dude that died, but I felt bad for Meursault too. He wasn’t going to say things that weren’t true for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to re-read some parts again and I even got annoyed when some boy from school interrupted me and I just thought “hey buddy, there’s more to life than wasting my time flirting with you”. So yeah, this one will bend your brain. I highly recommend. &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/elizaboans"&gt;FB me if you read it too&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1259835794389788671-7416887938264520224?l=elizaboans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/7416887938264520224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-wrong-side-of-outside.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/7416887938264520224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/7416887938264520224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-wrong-side-of-outside.html' title='on the wrong side of the outside'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S-DuJQLwiZI/AAAAAAAAACA/HfYBuka7Woc/s72-c/The+Outsider.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671.post-5625852765920323922</id><published>2010-04-26T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T18:41:31.176-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza boans'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='George Orwell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nineteen Eighty-Four'/><title type='text'>tonight i'm gonna party like it's 1984</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9VMG8kQDKI/AAAAAAAAABw/G52mRUffQws/s1600/nineteen+eighty-four.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 208px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464357405105065122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9VMG8kQDKI/AAAAAAAAABw/G52mRUffQws/s320/nineteen+eighty-four.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, Nineteen Eighty-Four was actually written in 1949 and it was supposed to be about the future. Well I guess when Prince sung about partying in 1999 and Silverchair sung about the year 2000 little did they know that today, it's like, soooo ten years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in alternate-future 1984, instead of people wearing fluro colours, lace gloves and permed hair and dancing to carefree eighties music, the fashion is less interesting and life is REALLY REALLY SERIOUS AND STRICT. Just like my high school. It gives off the appearance it's all progressive and free-choice, but in fact if you so much as put your pinkie toe out of line - BAM! Big Brother (aka the principal) or some sniveling traitor with some massive grudge, gets you. So I can relate to Nineteen Eighty-Four.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can also relate to how there's a hierarchy with the Inner Party (the Populars and High-Achievers), the Outer Party (I reckon me and my group would be here) and the Proles at the bottom (the Normals and everyone else). The bullying goes top down and also inside your own group (boy do I know about that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I like all that stuff. But then I kinda have problems with the main characters. First there's Winston. He's so wet that he makes rain look dry. His idea of trying to rebel against Big Brother is to bash BB in his diary. Yeah Winston. Good One. Then there's Julia. Who's part of some Purity Club, but in fact she hooks up so regularly she makes my friend Marianne seem like a nun. One day Julia passes a love note to Winston who for no reason falls in love with her and they try to defy Big Brother by trying to hook up as many times as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I query why my English Teach Mr Steele gave me this book cos obviously it sends a pretty bad message. I mean, if Winston and Julia spent their time trying to, like, bring BB down, I would have understood, but I spent the entire novel hoping they would hurry up and get caught. Their endless smooching annoyed me and seriously, I realised how much I wanted to be in the Inner Party just so I could smack them myself and then demand they do some hardcore canteen duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdict: lame love story aside, everything else is pretty good. Who would have thought Orwell would have predicted Big Brother the TV series?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1259835794389788671-5625852765920323922?l=elizaboans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/5625852765920323922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/04/tonight-im-gonna-party-like-its-1984.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/5625852765920323922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/5625852765920323922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/04/tonight-im-gonna-party-like-its-1984.html' title='tonight i&apos;m gonna party like it&apos;s 1984'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9VMG8kQDKI/AAAAAAAAABw/G52mRUffQws/s72-c/nineteen+eighty-four.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1259835794389788671.post-407659667463390583</id><published>2010-04-24T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T22:01:17.294-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oscar wilde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the picture of dorian gray'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='eliza boans'/><title type='text'>dramatic pic of a dramatic popular peep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PGcJlVhsI/AAAAAAAAAAM/MovxjpOjljQ/s1600/dorian+gray+cover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PGcJlVhsI/AAAAAAAAAAM/MovxjpOjljQ/s320/dorian+gray+cover.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463928959841699522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My English teacher Mr Steele has been trying to get  me to read this one for ages and I’m like, “dude this is like 100 years  old”, no thanks. And Oscar Wilde? Is he kinda like Matt Preston from  Master Chef? But he gave me a copy anyway and I went to a health spa and  while I was waiting for my facemask to work, I thought hey lemme give  it a shot then. I quickly discovered it has cute boys and like, very  DRAMATIC DEATHS WITH HANGING QUESTION MARKS LIKE THIS: ????? So it isn’t  totes bad after all.  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Anyway, the story is  about this one Popular called Dorian Gray, a babe with curly blond locks  and blue eyes. It proves my theory that even 100 years ago, Jocks still  rocked the schoolyard. He has this one friend Basil who is all serious  and artistic and a painter and this other friend Lord Henry who  seriously has his super snark on. Since they are all rich, all they do  is lounge around all day having pseudo-deep conversations and partying  at night. Which OMG, reminds me of so so many ppl around here.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Basil paints Dorian this one time and it turns out  extra gorgeous and Dorian goes “oh yeah, if only I could look like this  forever and the picture would like grow old.” Due to some Freaky Friday  type switchero, Dorian becomes the picture and the picture becomes him.  So then Dorian becomes really debauched and stuff cos no matter what he  does, he stays all innocent looking cos the picture gets all evil for  him. The only problem is that his life spirals out of control and all  sort of wrong starts to go down. Dorian thinks “well, ah, maybe this  isn’t such a good idea guise…”, but is it too late?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I would recommend this book to, like, all the Goths  and Emos. Y’know, all the boys who like to wear eyeliner and their  girlfriend’s black jeans and have super angst. I don’t personally care  for all the descriptions of how debauched Dorian got, I mean, seriously –  a little less conversation, a little more action? But I do like how  it’s pretty creepy, Lord Henry is a bigger bit** than Marianne and the  ending is a kicker (no spoilers from me, you will have to read it  urself).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1259835794389788671-407659667463390583?l=elizaboans.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/feeds/407659667463390583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/04/dramatic-pic-of-dramatic-popular-peep.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/407659667463390583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1259835794389788671/posts/default/407659667463390583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elizaboans.blogspot.com/2010/04/dramatic-pic-of-dramatic-popular-peep.html' title='dramatic pic of a dramatic popular peep'/><author><name>Eliza Boans</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07184215355714068453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PJhmUVr2I/AAAAAAAAABI/80Rfr6dMJnU/S220/eliza+boans.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sce3GpG6Zks/S9PGcJlVhsI/AAAAAAAAAAM/MovxjpOjljQ/s72-c/dorian+gray+cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
