Lauren's Manifesto

We all have opinions, and different ways of expressing them. My father, for instance, prefers to preface his views with the statement "The thing about it is this..." and then continue on his tirade. My mother on the other hand, prefers to express her outlooks through facial expressions. No one can raise one eyebrow better than Mama Morgan.

Me, I lie somewhere in between. Writing has always been my primary mode of self-expression. As a student journalist, I've won awards for my column collections and editorials, but I feel that taking this class with Valerie Boyd has easily been the most beneficial class I have taken at the University of Georgia.

For the past four months, I've had the privilege of studying under a critically-acclaimed author, a woman who has made a pretty decent living at articulating her opinion of art. She has taught me how to construct reviews of the arts that are not only entertaining but also enlightening. She's also taught me to appreciate the role of the critic in mass media.

Now, looking back at my travels in Critical Writing, I believe the role the critic plays in our society is something similar to a godparent. God, or some other power, has entrusted this entity to guide her reader through the arts, hoping to educate this soul in pursuit of some higher form of existence through food, performance, music or books.

I can only hope to be a good god parent one day.

- Lauren Morgan

Allison's Manifesto

As a voracious consumer of books, movies and music, I depend on critics, from Manohla Dargis of The New York Times to my friend Jen, to guide my cultural appetite. Life is short, and the choice of what to consume grows as I write this. Without relevant, informed, entertaining criticism, we will all be hopelessly lost in the Information Age. But the voice of a trusted, opinionated critic will always rise above the din and guide us into unexplored territory.

As a fledgling reviewer whose shaky voice steadies by the minute, I promise always to remember that there is an artist on the other end of every review, that snarky pans are easy to write, and that good reviews stretch far beyond mere plot summary. Furthermore, I will refrain from slamming pop culture for the sheer elitist joy of it — ahem, The New Yorker — or praising inane indie projects that befuddle me.

Like any critic, all I have to offer you, lonely but no less valued reader, is my opinion. And I promise to do so with honesty, humor and a truckload of personal baggage. Happy reading.

-Allison Loudermilk

Anna's Manifesto

I once read in an Ernest Hemingway biography that he said he believed critics are like soldiers who walk into the streets after a battle and shoot the wounded. I disagree.

The role of the critic is to be a truthful assessor or works of art. The number of movies, books, CDs, concerts, etc. that are available for public consumption is overwhelming. People rely on critics to provide reasoned, well-researched analyses of the strengths and weaknesses of new works.

While it is true that everyone is a critic to some extent, this does not mean that everyone has the time to write critical reviews. A good review includes background information and well-though-out arguments. The critic has an obligation to do research and become educated about the art form and the history of the specific work they are critiquing.

I mentioned truth earlier and see this as vital to the critic. The critic must be honest about the quality of a work because many consumers base their purchasing decisions on reviews. However, the critic also must be honest in their negative criticism because they owe a fair assessment to the creator.

-Anna Fry

Performance Review: "Giselle"

"Giselle," A ballet at the Fox Theatre, Oct. 26-29, 2006.

Close your eyes and imagine the soft pitter-patter of feet, beautiful leaps and twirls, gentle music and brilliant costumes made to represent a past time. Got it? Well, you are either special or exactly like me. I couldn’t see that whole picture in my mind until I saw it with my own two eyes at “Giselle,” a ballet performed at the Fox Theatre.

I am no ballet connoisseur, but I can say that this performance entranced me from the very beginning.

Now for those of you who are like me and have not one clue what a rone de jamb e or pirouette is, don’t worry. You don’t need to know any of that stuff to feel the emotion and dynamics of this dance.

“Giselle,” an early 19th century story, is based around a triangle of lovers. In Act One, Giselle, the village beauty, falls in love with Albrecht, a disguised prince. Albrecht and Giselle claim their love for each other and their eternal faithfulness until Hilarion, who is also deeply in love with Giselle, discovers Albrecht’s disguise and reveals the Prince’s identity to Giselle. She then, being so overwhelmed and distraught by this claim, loses her mind and dies of a broken heart.

Act One was my favorite. The dances were upbeat and fun. The performers were fully clad in bright colorful dresses and many of the dances included the whole group with spurts of solos intertwined throughout.

However, the most important part was understanding the plot and message they were trying to reveal. I can’t imagine trying to evoke a message with no words, but the director, John McFall, did a wonderful job doing this in the first act.

Soft and hard hand and feet motions helped the dancers express their emotions. The music repeatedly switched from a light and soft melody to a loud thunderous roar allowing the audience to feel the struggle between the lovers and the set was constantly lightened and darkened to reflect the mood of the play.

Act Two was a little more confusing. The set and costumes were nicely done. You could definitely tell you were in a cemetery surrounded by a bunch of angry ghosts, but the story line was harder to follow. I actually had to look it up and see that they were trying to portray the afterlife of Giselle. McFall had more difficulty delivering the story to an audience member like myself in this act.

However, I did find out that the second act was supposed to depict Giselle and other angry women ghosts at the graveyard that were killed right before their wedding day. These ghosts kill all the men that enter the cemetery. Hilarion, the one who exposed the Prince, goes to visit Giselle’s grave and is killed in a dance battle and thrown into a lake by the spirit of an angry ghost.

A little bit later, Albrecht also goes to see Giselle’s grave and is attacked by the angry mob of ghosts as well. He however, passes the dance of death because of Giselle’s deep love for him. As they say their final farewell, Albrecht recognizes Giselle’s true love and is forever touched with the memory of the delicate and beautiful village girl.

Giselle, danced by Naomi-Jane Dixon, Albrecht, danced by John Welker and Hilarion, danced byTamila, gave stellar performances. These characters, along with the rest of the cast, made the show enjoyable, exciting and very emotional for me. This standout cast worked extremely well together, were consistently precise in their dance movements and genuinely looked like they were enjoying themselves.

Every element, whether it was the characters, set, costumes or music, caught my attention. My eyes clung to the performers for the whole hour and a half. So, in my first experience with the ballet I realized one important thing, even though I didn’t know exactly what they were doing, I still found myself really intrigued, amused, and dying for more.

-Reviewed by: Kim Malawy

Two Performance Reviews: "Enough"

"Enough!," A trapeze show at Chase Street Warehouse, Nov. 3-5, 2006.

"Since 1950, we Americans have used up more resources than everyone who ever lived on earth before then."

What does it take to force America to come to terms with its own habits? That is the question asked by Canopy Studio's "Enough!," its program quoted above. Come to think of it, it's not so much that this question is asked directly; it's more imagined.

The real question, as related by Artistic Director and senior dancer Susan Murphy, is "not whether we can afford to fix the problem, but whether we can afford not to."

But as one watched, the imagined question might just have come to mind.

Using trapezes, rope, streams of fabric, and even a box full of four dancers twelve feet off the studio floor, "Enough!" both assaulted and soothed the senses as its performers climbed, twirled, and swung through eleven acts of often exquisite artistic expression.

Murphy introduced the premise after her solo performance "Lost Garden," which evoked a poignant, yet sadly overused feeling of loss as the studio's projector shined an image of an ancient, massive tree being chopped down.

During the performance, Murphy danced across and then laid peacefully upon a large pair of branches hanging from the ceiling in the back of the studio (one wonders how they got the branches).

This is but one example of the many fascinating, dangling props used during the presentation, another of which was a box-frame hung over 12 feet off the studio floor while holding four dancers.

"Packaging," the number that used said device, was by far the most rousing and thought-provoking performance of the evening, and only the fourth at that. As the four ceiling-height performers shifted symmetrically from position to spinning position, one could not help but consider the wonder of the human imagination.

"Enough!" provoked the disturbing, inconvenient sentiment that there's too much population and not enough common sense in regard to the continuation of civilization as we know it. The performance ends up feeling bittersweet, as it has used the beauty and refinement of dance to illustrate a forthcoming doom of life as we have known it.

Unfortunately, it concluded on an unrealistically idealistic note, with all of the dancers (representing the human race) embracing each other after spending an hour convincing the audience that mankind is probably too foolish to change its ways before it's too late. Again, bittersweet.

If only that single word, the title of the show, yelled during the height of the final ensemble number "War," was really enough.

-Reviewed by: Miles Moffit

I took my program as I walked into Canopy’s Chase Street Warehouse studio on the evening of the second night of their newest production, "Enough!," removed my shoes as instructed so as not to scuff up the delicate bamboo surface of the floor-level stage that I was about to sit directly in front of, sat, opened the program, and commenced to wishing I hadn’t. I never even would’ve imagined it possible, but it appeared that I was about to bear witness to the truly audacious: a group of several human beings attempting to tackle the dimensions and ramifications of a complex socio-political issue via flying trapeze.

After this realization, it was immediately difficult to suppress an assumption that this was going to be at best a little pretentious and heavy-handed; at worst, outright suck to the point of comedy. I’d seen several Canopy productions before, and I have to tell you that trapeze is not known for being a particularly political medium. For example, a previous show tackled the general theme of “weather” compellingly and with panache. "Enough!’ s" ambition was considerably loftier: to explore the ecological damage that humans have caused, the physical and emotional consequences, and what might be done about it. On the flying trapeze. I can’t stress that enough. I did my best to suppress skepticism at the ability of people to express ideas about our greatest environmental and cultural strife by hanging upside-down from swings and politely folded my hands in my lap as the lights went down.

Unfortunately for "Enough!," things got off to a rocky start early on as the lights were cued twice before the performers and stagehands were ready for them, exhibiting an amateurism that is atypical of Canopy performances. The subtle hastiness of this small blunder betrayed a roughness that permeated the majority of the show’s 11 performances.

The eight performers in the first piece, for example, were never really able to synchronize their moves, though sometimes they got close enough that it was clear they were aiming to. "Enough!’s" artistic director and Canopy impresario Susan Murphy employed Joanna Haigood, a special choreographer from San Francisco, for the second piece. The result consisted of Murphy slowly climbing around on some actual tree branches that hung by ropes from the ceiling as video footage of forests played on a large screen behind her. Conceptually it was interesting, but visually it was just plain boring. Haigood is not credited in the notes of any of the other pieces. This means that she came to Athens from San Francisco just to help a woman figure out how to walk slowly (and without the actual appearance of choreography) on a tree branch, and it pains me to say that that is a little embarrassing.

Most of the other pieces were crushed similarly under the overambitiousness of the theme. Many of the performances had only a superficial adherence to the theme, such as the duo piece of Lauren Puls and Annette Byrd in which the two rode bicycles onto the stage, got off them, and spent the next five minutes performing individual trapeze moves while a giant video of people riding bicycles played in the background. In fact, the video overpowered the scene visually to the extent that I sometimes forgot there were people on the stage performing, and after enough repetitions of the 20-second clip over the course of several minutes it got more than a little old.

Of course, there were some triumphs. Melissa Roberts, Nicole Mermans, Lindy Pals and Megan Cattau all shined in their group performance contained entirely within the metal outline of a large cube suspended high above the floor. This piece appeared to have no adherence to the theme whatsoever, and was all the better for it. Chris Knightes and Cattau were magnificent in their duo piece performed on a ladder hanging from the ceiling. The crowd went wild for their perfect grace, and they too were unencumbered by the theme.

Most triumphant of all was Lisa Yaconelli’s modern dance performance, which contained no trapeze element whatsoever but the most well-executed adherence to the theme by far. Yaconelli danced around a clothes rack that had a large “Sale” sign in front of it, stopping occasionally to add clothes. All the clothes were the same—dull gray t-shirts—and yet as she added more, her accumulation of them became more frenzied and needy. Eventually she added two large coats and a hat to her attire and became so burdened with material excesses that she could no longer dance. It was a plain, strong message delivered with elegance.

Canopy Studio would do well to apply Yaconelli’s lesson to future theme shows. There is nothing wrong with being ambitious, and the tendency to want to use one’s talents to promote ideas that one feels passionate about is completely understandable. However, ultimately "Enough!" proved it pretentious to suppose that a trapeze performance is going to be an effective communicator of very complex socio-political concepts. With this show, Canopy Studio became so burdened by the weight of an ostentatious ambition that it, too, forgot how to dance.

-Reviewed by: Jace Bartet

Book Review: "The Children's Hospital"

"The Children's Hospital." A novel by Chis Adrian. McSweeney's 2006. $24. 615 pages.

More than at any other point in my life, it seems that people have been fighting and dying over some of the contents of their various major religious texts. This potentially makes using any of these texts as a source for literary inspiration a tricky proposition: will the author be branded evangelical and pushed to the fringe of niche publications? Might he be seen as taking a hard-line position in the currently boiling clash of civilizations? In his leviathan second novel "The Children’s Hospital," Chris Adrian dares to draw from the Bible in this time of highly politicized religion and comes away with a single story of persistence and humanity that triumphs beyond the trappings of self-righteous moralizing and preachiness that could so easily have marred it.

On the Earth of "The Children’s Hospitial," “the end of the world” does not really mean the total end. The apocalypse is one of the first things to happen in the novel, and where some writers might see global catastrophe as a difficult piece of exposition to top, Adrian hardly gives it a glance as it is happening. Within the never-named pediatric hospital that serves as the Ark for the characters, the Second Great Flood of Earth causes rumblings that could just as easily have been described as an earthquake or a blast from an explosion, except that they have the distinct impression that they are being lifted. By forcing his characters to note that the end has come but press on and continue with all of the work that they were doing before, Adrian forces himself to do the same as a writer. At the end of the world, the only thing left appears to be a children’s hospital floating atop seven miles of new ocean: you know that just from reading the back cover, Adrian concedes, so what next?

In his work to answer the thorny question of “what next,” Adrian tells us a kind of long fable, almost a sort of fairy tale, a story-behind-the-story that regards the end of the world exclusively in terms of the life of Dr. Jemma Claflin as the thread to which The End is tied and born. Six-hundred and fifteen pages of this rather whiny, almost unbelievably self-absorbed protagonist should by all rights become grating, but the considerable unpredictability of the plot keeps things moving fast enough that it’s easy to be distracted from whether or not Jemma Claflin is someone you’d ever want to know. In some ways, Jemma is one of the realest and most “normal” protagonists I’ve ever encountered, and this coupled with the sheer volume of things we learn throughout the novel about her rather abnormal life give her a strangely omnipotent humanity. The hospital holds 1,138 other inhabitants, many of whom play nearly as large a part as Jemma and who Adrian lends rich and distinctive voices. The author creates the necessary element of caring about the characters, and thus, the events that transpire among them.

I was 400 pages into the novel before I really noticed that it had taken a hold on me, and that I had some emotional stake in its conclusion. Some events can indeed come across as superfluous, tacked-on affairs that needlessly stretch the novel a couple of hundred pages beyond what seems necessary, though ultimately the author decides what is necessary for his purposes as a storyteller. I cannot deny that the book was easy to read in bursts of 100 or 200 pages because the weight of the plight of the characters—to survive for the sake of it in a new world that all along, they know, may hold no hope for them anyhow—is richly portrayed as the weight of our own lives as inhabitants of this not-yet flooded planet. The prose itself sometimes lack vibrancy, and there are more typos than are really acceptable in a widely-distributed professional publication, but these faults fail to detract significantly from the power of the mysterious, clearly constructed and executed plot.

It is unclear to what extent "The Children’s Hospital" might be a commentary on any of the events or particular components of our contemporary cultural world. With such fallible characters, though, Adrian avoids what would ultimately be the banal mistake of telling us so bluntly how we should live our lives. What is clear is that "The Children’s Hospital" has left me with the feeling that I have seen a rich and fulfilling picture of one unconventional view of the end of all things and beyond, and that through this picture I might come to love everything unpredictable and appreciate everything terrible in life and hold on even tighter to hope where it sometimes seems there is none.

-Reviewed by: Jace Bartet

Book Review: "Es Cuba: Life and Love on an Illegal Island"

"Es Cuba: Life and Love on an Illegal Island." A travel memoir by Lea Aschkenas. Seal Press 2006. $15.95. 342 pages.

Americans, meet Cuba.

If you’re like me, you probably don’t know all that much about the mysterious and often forbidden (American travel to Cuba is limited by the U.S. Treasury Department) Caribbean island just ninety miles south of our own nation’s borders.

That’s where Lea Aschkenas comes in. At the height of the Elián González ordeal, a time when the little Cuban boy’s face was all over American news and rallies in his name filled the streets of Havana, she ventured to the island nation to take a Spanish course and ended up spending nearly ten months there, split between two trips, and falling in love with both a country and a man. Her adventures became the captivating book "Es Cuba: Life and Love on an Illegal Island," allowing all who read it a thorough and enchanting glimpse into an otherwise cryptic culture.

Aschkenas’ book offers everything: depth and insight, plenty of factual information, strong writing, and a personal tale of love and discovery. Not just a book about a country, "Es Cuba" follows Aschkenas as she meets a Cuban man, Alfredo, falls in love with him, and struggles through the complications that arise when you’re involved with somebody from a completely different culture, especially when the two countries in question are the United States and Cuba. Her tale takes place in Havana, where she participates in a Spanish-language program, and elsewhere throughout Cuba as she and Alfredo travel around the island. This story serves as the backbone of her memoir, which is written as a travel narrative or a journal, but Aschkenas doesn’t shirk her responsibilities as a travel writer to make another culture come alive to her readers, blending these notes about her personal life with information about the country and people.

The title of her memoir, "Es Cuba"—“That’s Cuba”—stems from the oft-muttered expression Alfredo uses to shrug off the idiosyncrasies of his country, and there are many. Aschkenas shares them with us, providing fascinating insight into the country’s culture, history, economics, and politics, painting a vivid picture of Cuban life with a series of dancing, interwoven narratives. Seamlessly, she jumps around a bit, going off on tangents before returning to the more chronological story at hand, mentioning this anecdote or that encounter in a stream-of-consciousness-like flow that is actually easy to follow and appreciated in that the extra details enrich her story and our understanding of the culture.

And there’s so much to understand about this country whose character, she finds, is the “odd, seemingly contradictory mix of melancholy and optimism.” Drawing from her own observations and experiences, as well as from tales and accounts shared with her by locals—Alfredo is an especially rich source of insight into the life of a Cuban—Aschkenas tells of the lack of violence and machismo in Cuba, the free education and health care, the interest in learning. She talks about the odd economic system using both dollars (for tourists and wealthy Cubans) and pesos (for the average, poor resident), the fact that the country is continuously low on supplies because of the U.S. embargo, and the candidness and criticalness with which Cubans speak of their government. Then there’s the salsa dancing, the endless nightlife, and the frustration among locals over the fact that tourists have more rights than they do.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg, just a sampling of the wealth of information she shares about a country that’s very foreign to most Americans. Even just a few pages in, I found myself reading with my eyes wide, amazed by all that I was learning about the fascinating culture that I’d never known much about, and the story is kept lively and entertaining by Aschkenas’ clear, easy-to-read writing style, the ongoing narrative of her relationship with Alfredo, and the fact that she doesn’t simply compile a list of observations. She wants to know why things are the way they are, and seeks to find answers as well as to carefully draw her own conclusions.

The result is a memorable, informative, captivating book about romance blossoming under unlikely circumstances and the resilience and optimism of the Cuban spirit. No longer will Cuba be a mystery after reading Aschkenas’ tale, a land known to Americans for its leader and the fleeing citizens scooped from the waters between Cuba and Florida. With clear writing and a knack for drawing out the essence of a people, Aschkenas introduces us to this new culture that she herself fell in love with.

-Reviewed by: Stephanie Crozier

Two Reviews of "The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail"

"The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail," A one act play at Athens Academy, Nov. 2-4, 2006

Lawrence & Lee’s "The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail" brought out the best in Athens Academy. Beyond its colorful title based on a night writer Henry David Thoreau really did spend in jail, this play has substance, and it’s up to Athens Academy’s kids to bring this substance to life.

Right off US 441, on the outskirts of Athens, sits the picturesque private high school campus of Athens Academy. And once you get past the snootiness of the structures and the parents you’ll find a remarkably talented high school drama program.

The Academy recently won their district one act play competition with this production and are tuning up for state competition.

The primary reason for their success is the quality of the acting. The acting surpasses what one might expect from high school students.

Aaron Strand is more than a caricature of the typical high school overachiever. He’s a talented actor. Strand spent his last summer in an acting program at New York University. He has an inordinate number of lines in this play and he refused to slip-up. Most of his emotion came across as genuine. He was not the most genuine, but he managed what was by far the play’s most difficult character, Thoreau.

The other obvious stand-out was Amy Bruckner, playing Thoreau’s love interest Ellen Sewell. Bruckner is adorable on stage. She cries on command and wears her emotions on her sleeves. Her character is as real as can be. This shouldn’t be suprising considering she has had roles on ER, Ally McBeal, The West Wing, Judging Amy, and Malcolm in the Middle.

The production also had its comedic highlights with the best of these being Jake Parnell, playing Thoreau’s fellow prisoner Bailey. Parnell became a crowd favorite with the hillbilly charm he injected into his character.

Not only was the play’s acting strong, but so was its costuming. All of the clothes appeared relevant to the Mexican War days in which the play was set.

And although this was a one act play, by which competitive rules require minimal stage design, the designers made the most of what they had by leaving a jail set up in the middle of the stage. They made use of the wings of the stage when doing outdoor scenes.

The play often went back and forth with its scenes so the directors left much its settings to the audience’s imagination. At some points they even included the audience as if they were the students in Thoreau’s classroom or the audience in Ralph Waldo Emerson’s lectures. This effect worked to hold the audience’s attention and make the play more vibrant.

The play didn’t have any outrageous special effects. The intent of its sound and lighting was to keep the attention on the play’s strength, its acting, which it did.

The 1970 writing of Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee is powerful. The writing has humor mixed tastefully with philosophy. It shows Thoreau living by the words he writes.

I wasn’t expecting to be moved by these young performers, but I was. I was surprised to find the young acting talent that I found at Athens Academy.

-Reviewed by: Gregory Sullivan

Though the actors in “The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail,” may be in high school, the production had all the features of a professional event.

From the impeccable costuming to the outstanding acting, I was thoroughly impressed with Athens Academy’s rendition of Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee’s 1971 play.

On Friday night, after winning the region one-act competition and several other awards including Best Ensemble, Athens Academy presented the play to the community in preparation for the state competition this Wednesday.

“The Night Thoreau Spent in Jail” chronicles Henry David Thoreau’s early adult life in Concord, Mass. The play takes place in a jail cell where Thoreau has been incarcerated for failing to pay taxes in protest of the war in Mexico. There are also flashbacks, including Thoreau’s time as a teacher, starting his own school and working for his friend and idol, Ralph Waldo Emerson.

In a one-act competition, competitors have 55 minutes to set up the stage, perform their chosen play and strike the set. Because of these constraints, there were no major scene changes, and the set, which won Best Set Design, was minimal but very effective. At center stage sat a simple jail cell with two cots, and flashbacks were acted out on the rest of the stage.

Furthermore, the audience was required to use its imagination to envision invisible props and characters like Thoreau’s inquisitive pupils. This did nothing to diminish the performance but made me more engaged and impressed with the cast’s acting ability.

Because of the flashbacks, at first it was difficult to understand what was going on and when certain events occurred. However, once I grasped the flow of the show, it became much clearer.

The costumes were well made, and, as the play was so short, the costumes gave more insight into the characters’ natures. Emerson’s rising reputation was displayed by the tailored suit and pompous ascot, while Thoreau wore a simple white work shirt and cotton pants. These clothes were visual juxtapositions of the differing lifestyles of the two men.

The acting was similarly superb. Athens Academy’s production changed the male character of Deacon Ball into female Widow Ball, who was played phenomenally by senior Carley Moore. Though the character’s sex changed, the essence of Deacon Ball, with his harsh and strict ways, was kept intact. Moore perfected the crisp consonants and shrill, piercing voice of someone whose life is regimented by keeping rules.

In his acting debut at Athens Academy, junior Jake Parnell plays Bailey, Thoreau’s dopey but endearing cellmate awaiting trial. Though Parnell’s exaggerated southern accent was out of place for a play that took place in Massachusetts, it added to the innocent, simpleton qualities of a man who gets excited to learn to write his name. For his role as Bailey, Parnell was awarded with the All-Star cast award at region.

It was senior Aaron Strand who carried the show with his amazing performance as protagonist Thoreau. Strand, who studied acting at NYU this summer, was able to effectively convey a range of emotions, from inconsolable grief to intense passion. Strand, who was awarded Best Actor at the regional competition, was most compelling in a scene where, under the orders of Ball, he whips six students. With each crack of his belt upon a chair representing the students, Strand’s facial expressions became more pained, and the scene was like a car crash, painful to watch, but I was unable to turn away.

Due to the nature of the one-act play, Athens Academy had to condense the two-act original. In doing this, one major character was cut out, that of a runaway slave named William. While this was not particularly damaging to the story, it eliminated an aspect of Thoreau’s passion about abolishing slavery. Instead, this version focused on Thoreau’s intense opposition to the war in Mexico.

The ending, a violent dream sequence, was not nearly as powerful as it read in the original, however. Parts were cut out due to time constraints, and the absence of William made it less dramatic.

However, overall, this performance was not the amateur high school production I was expecting. Come Wednesday, the competition better be ready.

-Reviewed by: Jo Lee

Book Review: "Everyone Worth Knowing"

"Everyone Worth Knowing." A chick-lit novel by Lauren Weisberger. Simon and Schuster 2005. $23.95. 367 pages.

The author of the chic, clever and best-selling novel “The Devil Wears Prada” tries her hand at romantic chick lit.

It’s a good idea in theory, but in “Everyone Worth Knowing” author Lauren Weisberger loses the naughty witticisms and trades them for overdone clichés and stereotypes romance novels are notorious for.

“Everyone Worth Knowing” starts off with a similar storyline to “Devil.” The smart and cynical 20-something in Manhattan is fed up with her current socioeconomic situation and lands a savvy job that a million girls would die for.

Weisberger’s heroine, Bette, a converted hippie who is tired of working a mundane job as an investment banker, solicits her semi-famous uncle, Will, who fills in the spot of the very gay fairy god father, helping Bette to make all her dreams come true in 367 pages. He hooks Bette up with the hottest public relations agency in town, with a boss much kinder than the infamous witch Miranda Priestly (from “Devil”).

Yet, Andy’s, I mean Bette’s office is still filled with the snarky wannabe socialites Weisberger pigeonholed in her first novel. The anorexic, wish-they-were-Paris-Hilton-hopefuls and party boys donning Armani t-shirts paired with Black American Express cards promote celebrities by day and party with by night. This coked-out, hungry crew was much funnier in Weisberger’s first novel.

Of course, Bette is sucked into their cool club scene Madison Avenue is infamous for and, like in “Devil”, the reader sees the sweet and slightly cynical heroine transform into another toned, hi-lighted, Seven Jeans clad member of NYC’s up-in-coming upper crust.

But at least Andy had an air of indifference paired with cynicism that she kept in the sole of her Manolos. Bette does not, however. Maybe Weisberger was trying to keep it light and play it safe, but I miss the amusing adroitness she wrote with for “Devil.”

The plot seems to drag in places, but I kept reading just to see who was going to pass out on a banquette next or who would sleep with whom.

Romance novels aren’t without their fill of attractive men, witches to defeat and friends to save from their own hapless relationships.

Bette’s true social worth skyrockets when she shacks up with a British heart throb, much beloved for his hot body and party habits. Following directions from her boss, to be a true PR girl she must savor the publicity her new semi-romance has earned her and ride the wave of Page Six.

Lust, potential love and hot sex were items missing in “Devil” and I like the suspense that comes when Bette begins to fall for a bouncer who caters to her party crew. Their scenes together are playful and occasionally scintillating. I found myself turning pages anxiously with scenes involving Bette and her man candy.

With all of Bette’s new changes, there’s always someone watching – in her case, her family, former friends and the whole of Manhattan. Bette somehow manages to get on the bad side of a gossip columnist. It’s pretty easy to figure out who it is early, too.

The predictability of “Everyone Worth Knowing” is disappointing, especially from such a creative writer like Weisberger. I hope the dark humor in “Devil” somehow finds its way back into the spot light for her next book.

-Reviewed by: Lauren Morgan

Book Review: "On the Way to the Wedding"

"On the Way to the Wedding." A romance novel by Julia Quinn. Avon 2006. $7.99. 384 pages.

Julia Quinn’s “On the Way to the Wedding” makes you forget the trifles of your life and leads you into Quinn’s romantic world.

Quinn’s writing has earned a reputation for warmth and humor, and her dialogue is considered among the best in the industry. She has been profiled in TIME Magazine (a rarity among romance writers) and has even competed on the game show “The Weakest Link.”

Some people believe in true love, but other people don’t. The hero of the novel, Gregory Bridegerton, believes in true love and is convinced that when he finds the woman of his dreams, he will know in an instant that she is the one. When he meets Hermione Watson for the first time, Quinn writes: “He knew that she was the one. He stood frozen, transfixed. The air didn’t rush form his body; rather, it seemed to slowly escape until there was nothing left, and he just stood there, hollow, and aching for more.” However, Hermione does not have the same feeling as Gregory.

Hermione’s best friend and the novel’s heroine, Lucy Lucinda, is engaged, but she does not know what true love is. She will marry her fiancé not because of love but because of the wishes of her uncle. She believes Gregory is a good man and is worthy of her best friend’s favor. So, she helps Gregory to win Hermione’s heart. However, because of an accident, Hermione married Lucy’s brother. Shortly thereafter, Lucy and Gregory shared an unexpected kiss and Lucy realized she had fallen in love with him. “She was in love with him. She was in love with Gregory Bridgerton. The realization couldn’t have been more clear….”

The story begins with an unnamed man trying to stop a wedding. Finally, when he arrives at the church and asks the bride not to marry the other man, the story suddenly stopped. Who is the bride? Especially, when you read the first half of the story, you may think the bride is Hermione. The uncertainty is the wonderful part of the story. It is definitely a love story, but with some mystery. Because of that, I can’t wait to finish reading it.

"On the Way to the Wedding" is the eighth and final book in the Bridgerton series. Quinn’s series portrays how the eight children of the Bridgerton family followed their mother’s advice to believe in true love, and the process of finding their destined partners. Family life dominates every one of Quinn’s books. Although the children of the Bridgerton family always quarreled with their siblings, when one of them had problems, other family members didn’t hesitate to help them. The depictions of the family love in the Quinn’s books are moving and real. Quinn seems to tell readers that she cannot only write touching love stories but also make readers feel warmth through her pen.

"On the Way to the Wedding" is a superb entry in which Julia Quinn mocks her previous Regency romances with an agreeable twist on love at first sight. Quinn’s subtle style of writing brings you a new experience of the romantic novel.

-Reviewed by: Jui-Chen Liao

Book Review: "Fireworks"

"Fireworks." A novel by Elizabeth Hartley Winthrop. Knopf 2006. $23.95. 304 pages.

Elizabeth Hartley Winthrop shows a lot of promise with her first novel “Fireworks.” Her principal character Hollis Claxton, a complicated New England writer, springs to life through vivid description.

Winthrop wastes no time revealing the complexities of Hollis, depicting him as a sensitive adulterer in the book’s opening chapter. Hollis’ development is achieved through his bizarre and interesting relationships with other characters.

Hollis’ mother abandoned him and his father to live in a commune when Hollis was young and Hollis’ son was hit and killed by a car a couple years before the story begins. These and other events have left their mark on his Hollis’ personality.

Shifts in time play a crucial role in the narrative as well. Hollis has a tendency to daydream about objects he sees or finds in the attic. He daydreams about his marriage and his childhood, particularly on noticing photographs. This adds tremendous effect to the narrative.

Hollis also gives us lots of memories of his wife Claire, who leaves to stay with her sister for the summer. Hollis makes it painfully clear that he cares for his wife, and the reader is left to wonder through most of the book whether or not she will actually return. This bizarre waiting period for Hollis is the primary plot of the novel.

There are several other colorful characters in the novel.

We have Hollis’ neighbor Sal who meets and talks with Hollis from over his hedges. Their relationship is similar to that of Tim “The Tool Man” Taylor and Wilson in Home Improvement, until their relationship progresses and they start playing video games together.

One of Hollis’ younger neighbors is also particularly interesting. Hollis observes his neighbors’ children to take notes for his writing. He later discovers that one of these children, Harry Crane, has been taking notes on him because he wants to grow up to be a detective.

Hollis develops some peculiarities while his wife is away. Outside of video games, observing children, and eating burritos every night, it’s worth noting that Hollis is prone to drinking.

At any point in the novel he’s capable of passing out and waking up in a lawn chair or in his car. Chapter six begins, “I wake to the sound of tapping. I sit up suddenly, startled and disoriented, and find myself in the car. I am sweaty and sore; I have spilled my flask of Jack, it seems, or else finished it off; it is empty and open on my lap.” I can tell you with certainty that Hollis finished the Jack. In this instance, a police officer wakes him up to tell him to move his car at three in the afternoon.

For the most part, the relationships Hollis has with novel’s different characters add to the strength of the book. However, there is one relationship that doesn’t feel authentic to me.

Hollis always hangs out at an old bar called Pratty’s. The bartender, Crosby, is similar to Sam Malone from Cheers. But the old man that hangs around the bar, Larry, is confusing.

Larry seems to love Hollis as a son, and Hollis’ internal dialogue suggests that he cares considerably about Larry. Winthrop is ineffective at giving reasons for why they’re friends. This relationship is unnatural and warrants more explanation.

Some of the blame could be attributed to this being her first novel and also her first with a male main character, but men don’t go around bonding with each other without reason.

Generally, Winthrop’s male voice is not a problem. Since Hollis is a northern writer, Winthrop is able to relate to him considerably since she was raised in New York City. Outside of the relationship with Larry, there is one other major problem with Hollis’ voice. Hollis uses the word “shit” too much when he thinks. “Shit” becomes a tool for masculinizing his character. In general, however, Hollis still remains a strong and believable character.

Despite some problems with Hollis’ voice, “Fireworks” is an enjoyable read. Even though it comes across that Hollis is strange, I was still inclined to like and relate to his character. For Winthrop, who is clearly talented, this is an overall successful first novel.

Reviewed by: Gregory Sullivan

Book Review: "Water for Elephants"

"Water for Elephants." A novel by Sarah Gruen. Algonquin 2006. $23.95. 355 pages.

Final exams your final semester in college. The room is quiet except for a clock reminding you the seconds are dwindling. To your left and right, your classmates hunch over, busily scratching away with their pencils. A bead of sweat makes a trail from your brow, down your nose and plops onto your blank paper. You get up and dart out of the room, escaping into freedom.

This scenario runs through the minds of stressed college students every year. Jacob Jankowski, the narrator of Sara Gruen’s third novel "Water for Elephants," lives out this fantasy, ditching his final veterinary exams and jumping a train which just happens to be the Benzini Brothers Most Spectacular Show on Earth. This engrossing, original novel is told from the perspective of a ninety- or ninety-three-year-old (he can’t remember with certainty) Jacob as he reminisces about being swept up in the bizarre life of roustabouts (circus performers) as a twenty-three-year-old.

Gruen’s use of the present tense gives a sense of immediacy to an already action-packed narrative.

“I reach for the iron grab bar and fling myself upward. My left foot and elbow hit first, and then my chin, which smashes onto the metal edging. I cling tightly with all three. The noise is deafening, and my jawbone bangs rhythmically on the iron edging.”

After jumping the train, Jacob is hired as the circus vet and soon learns the harsh truth behind the glitz and glamour and faces the threat of being “redlighted,” dumped from the moving train as it passes over a trestle, when he falls in love with Marlena, the star of the show and wife of the sadistic, cruel August. August is one of many richly drawn, fully developed characters you will want to spend more time with when the novel ends. Others include Kinko, an angry midget; Barbara, a hooker with a heart of gold; Rosie, an elephant; and Uncle Al, the ringmaster consumed by his obsession with besting the Ringling Brothers.

Gruen skillfully interweaves the story of the young, idealistic Jacob, and that of the elderly Jacob who is betrayed by the weakness and fallibility of his body. The passages depicting Jacob’s frustrating, stifled existence in the nursing home are poignant and compassionately told.

As Jacob waits for family visits, he returns in his imagination to the adventurous days of his youth.

“All I can do is put in time waiting for the inevitable, observing the ghosts of my past rattle around my vacuous present. They crash and bang and make themselves at home, mostly because there’s no competition…Damn ghosts.”

Although the descriptive writing is vivid, the dialogue at times is stilted, even bordering on soap opera-ish.

“‘I love you, too,’ she whispers. ‘I think I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. But don’t you see? I’m married to August.’”

Ultimately, this fault is quickly forgiven as Gruen casts her spell, making both circus life and nursing home life come alive.

Gruen’s extensive research and inclusion of circus photographs adds credibility and authenticity. The text is peppered with actual circus terms and references to events in circus history such as the Jamaica ginger paralysis, an incident involving 100,000 Americans becoming paralyzed after drinking moonshine in the 1930s.

This imaginative spectacle is well worth the fare, providing entertainment, but still exploring serious issues such as aging and isolation.

-Reviewed by Anna Fry

Where to catch performances in Athens and Atlanta

In Athens

Morton Theatre
195 W. Washington St., www.mortontheatre.com
This historic venue dabbles in dance, music, theatre, poetry and even pageants, and is the frequent home of Black Theatrical Ensemble productions. The ballerinas, actors and singers reluctantly give up the limelight every weekend to Athens First United Methodist Church for Sundays @ the Morton.

The Classic Center
300 N. Thomas St., www.classiccenter.com
When the Athens Symphony Orchestra and big-name bands such as Wilco aren’t selling out this 2,050-seat theatre, the center hosts Broadway favorites such as “Cats,” “Hairspray” and “Chicago.” For tickets, call (706) 357-4444.

In Atlanta

Center for Puppetry Arts
1404 Spring St. NW (at 18th), Atlanta, www.puppet.org
If you think puppets are just for kids, you haven’t visited this performance gem in Midtown Atlanta (or watched the infamous puppet sex scene in “Team America”). The wildly talented staff stages youngster faves such as “Charlotte’s Web,” along with more adult productions such as their creepy “Tales of Edgar Allan Poe.” For tickets call, (404) 873-3391.

14th Street Playhouse
173 14th St., Atlanta, www.14thstplayhouse.org
This mainstay of the Atlanta art’s district has a decidedly contemporary bent, performing everything from “My Boyfriend the Stripper,” to “Menopause the Musical.” If you’re still hungry for culture after your play, cross the street to the High Museum, which is also part of the Woodruff Arts Center. For tickets, call, (404) 733-4738.

Atlanta Ballet
1400 W. Peachtree St., Atlanta, www.atlantaballet.com
Get your fill of pirouettes and tutus at the Fox Theatre and The Ferst Center for the Arts at Georgia Tech where the 77-year-old dance company performs crowd-pleasers like “The Nutcracker,” “Giselle,” and other classic ballets. For tickets, call the Ticketmaster Arts Hotline (404) 817-8700.

Don’t forget to flash that student ID whenever you’re buying tickets to a performance. The arts community often takes pity on starving students.

Performance Review: "The Ghastly Dreadfuls"

“The Ghastly Dreadfuls’ Compendium of Graveyard Tales and Other Curiosities,” A puppet show at the Center for Puppetry Arts, Oct. 11–29, 2006.

“The Ghastly Dreadfuls,” this year’s wickedly funny and entertaining Halloween puppet show at The Center for Puppetry Arts, is a bite-sized Almond Joy treat for adults.

Let loose from their respective cemeteries for an evening of graveyard tales and cabaret-style song, dance and puppetry, the multitalented, fictional Ghastly Dreadfuls narrated this variety show, tickets to which were an affordable $20.

After describing their respective demises with glee — Simply Dreadful, for example, was kicked in the head not by a horse, “but by a whore, a rather large one” — the pale-faced, wild-haired deadpan crew of seven launched into their first story, “The Ghost on the Trapeze.”

The acrobatics the puppets performed during this original first sketch were dazzling. The philandering trapeze artist, his spurned wife and his circus lover actually swung from the set’s tiny trapeze and gingerly navigated the tight rope, one small wooden foot in front of the next. I couldn’t help but look up in awe at the puppeteers deftly manipulating their creations in the near darkness.

But watching this professional puppet show was like watching a movie with subtitles: after a while the subtitles or, in this case, the puppeteers ceased to be important. And sitting farther back in the narrow, stadium-style theater, the thin marionette strings disappeared, nudging the audience into the world of make-believe.

Marionettes didn’t dominate every sketch though. “The Girl in the New Dress,” the story of a creepily cheery girl who turns into a sort of demented June Cleaver is told through a series of campy, cartoon-style revolving cutouts. Think artist Roy Lichtenstein, but with blood spatters.

The suspenseful “Three at Table” alternated puppet and people actors to great seamless effect. And the short PG-13 film “Exotic Ghosts: The Creepy Compendium of International Ghouls from A to Z” by Kristin Jarvis comically highlighted little-known spirits such as Hantu Tetek, a ghost from Southeast Asia who smothers men with her huge breasts.

No detail of this entertaining production — from the intricately designed puppets, to the spooky lighting, to the set design — was too small for creators Jon Ludwig and Jason von Hinezmeyer. Even sound effects were spot on. For example, the sound of puppet feet crunching on snow during a lonely trek in “Three at Table” was a dead match.

“The Ghastly Dreadfuls” marked a departure from the center’s past Halloween shows, explained Ludwig and von Hinezmeyer.

“It is a more formal show than previous Halloween shows in that there is no audience participation. But, there is no fourth wall separating the Ghastly Dreadfuls from the audience either,” said von Hinezmeyer and Ludwig in an interview published on the National Center for Puppetry Arts Web site, www.puppet.org.

The intermission featured a costume contest for theatergoers possessed by the Halloween spirit and a highly popular beer and wine cash bar for the rest of the lively hipster crowd. The first monkey in space, a sexy stewardess and a Kanye West–inspired gold digger took home the winnings: assorted axis of evil finger puppets and two free tickets to future shows.

Maybe the winners will return for the center’s production, “Tales of Edgar Allan Poe,” which will run from Jan. 17 to Feb. 11, 2007. If the Halloween show proved an apt barometer of the center’s talents, the Poe show will be a night of inexpensive, chilling fun. I’ll be back to this Midtown Atlanta performance gem.

- Reviewed by: Allison Loudermilk

Book Review: "What Is the What"

“What Is the What: The Autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng.” A novel by Dave Eggers. McSweeney’s 2006. $26. 475 pages.

The village was burning and the horsemen were circling when Valentino Achak Deng fled his family and his home in southern Sudan as a 7-year-old boy. “What Is the What” captures his hellish journey from his war-torn country to the refugee camps of Ethiopia and Kenya, and finally to the United States as one of the resettled “Lost Boy” refugees, so named because many had lost their parents. As Deng writes in the preface, “This is simply one man’s story, subjectively told,” to author Dave Eggers.

It’s a helluva story though. The details are so horrific it’s almost easier to imagine they never happened. But they did, and therein lies the purpose of this book — to document the atrocities Deng and his fellow Sudanese faced and still face. As I read, I could almost hear the ghosts among the pages whisper, “Never forget.”

As Deng walked with hundreds of other boys to the Sudanese-Ethiopian border under the guidance of their impromptu 18-year-old leader Dut, death was a constant companion. In the United States, it’s hard to think of a child crossing the street safely, let alone dodging wild animals, rebel soldiers and machine-gun-toting murahaleen (the government-backed Arab militia that ravaged the non-Arab tribes and villages of southern Sudan).

The boys who did manage to trudge on had to be careful not to linger: “Sleeping for more than an hour in the sun was sure to bring carrion birds, and we had to be vigilant, lest the birds begin to feast while we were alive.”

The compelling story gets worse, much worse. The war between the Sudanese government and the southern rebels killed an estimated two million people and displaced many others. It also enabled a brisk slave trade. Deng’s boyhood friend Moses was abducted by the murahaleen and became a slave. Moses’ account is one of the book’s hardest passages to read: “The Arab was putting a burning metal rod to my head…. In my ear, he branded the number 8, turned on its side…. — Now you will always know who owns you, this man said to me.” When pressed about the slavery issue, the Sudanese government called them “consensual work arrangements,” Deng said.

It’s hard to pick apart such a weighty, well-intentioned book, but it does suffer from two flaws. The first glaring weakness is that Eggers and Deng agreed to call this book a novel, thereby allowing naysayers to dismiss whatever they dislike as fiction. Their decision leaves the book occupying the netherworld between fiction and non-fiction.

Eggers also overuses an annoying literary device. Instead of alternating between Deng’s present-day life in Atlanta and his past life in Sudan from chapter to chapter, Eggers seizes on random passersby in Deng’s days to launch into different recollections.

Here Eggers clumsily inserts a barely sketched woman from the health club where Deng works to segue into a musing on identity: “The last woman of the rush is Dorsetta Lewis, one of the few African-American women who works out at this club.” Two pages later, we return to Dorsetta: “Dorsetta, I pretend that I know who I am now, but I simply don’t. I’m not an American and it seems difficult now to call myself Sudanese.” One more brief mention and she is gone as quickly as she came.

Absent these two flaws, “What Is the What” easily captivated and educated me beyond the Darfur conflict, where much of the world’s attention has focused in the past three years. Separate from the longtime civil war, this western region of Sudan has lost hundreds of thousands of non-Arab residents in what the U.S. government has called genocide at the hands of the Janjaweed, an Arab militia. But nothing has stopped the violence in Sudan. Not pronouncements, not multiparty talks and not paltry peacekeeping forces sent by the African Union.

Until it stops, the story must be told. And veteran novelist Eggers, author of the rambling Gen-X tome “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius,” obliges in this unconventional autobiography of Valentino Achak Deng. Eggers wisely lets Deng’s story tell itself, rather than embellish it with florid, overworked prose. The result of Egger’s simple narrative style is a relationship forged over hundreds of pages between the reader and the protagonist. When I closed “What Is the What,” I felt as if I knew Deng. Finally a face, or even a friend, to accompany the news stories filed from Sudan.

-Reviewed by: Allison Loudermilk