I saw this documentary two weeks ago, but didn't feel ready to write about it until now. I found some parts to be beautiful and endearing, but others were disturbing, saddening. I think the subject is human nature and not bears. Herzog's documentary follows Timothy Treadwell, a troubled man, who seems to find his true calling in life: spending some months every year in Alaska's Katmai National Park camping in the middle of bear territory and who will be killed by one of them. Treadwell constantly foreshadows his downfall, but persists. What Treadwell sees as his reason for existence and his greatest source of happiness ultimately destroys him. And, truthfully, how many of us can identify with that?

As I said before, the documentary is not about the bears, but about Treadwell and his relationship to them. I found him to be something of a tragic hero who meets his untimely end because he is flawed. His view of the bears is not accurate, he seems blinded by the love he feels for them but also because of the problems he has when he goes back to civilization after spending three months in the wilderness: Treadwell believed he was the protector of the grizzlies, when in reality they were in little danger. He saw in his beloved grizzlies an idealized world of love and harmony. All the love and beauty that Treadwell thought was missing from civilization he projected onto the bears.

It seems easy to simply criticize the fact that he crossed the line and died in so doing; his naïve view of the bears and their actions was ridiculed by many. But, to me,  that appraisal seems very superficial: the film has more depth. This film is not suposed to raise the question of whether or not men and bears can coexist in proximity, but rather, a view at a single human being who could not find his own place within society. Treadwell is not violent, not evil, but simply naïve and confused. It is heartbreaking to see him encounter the half-chewed paw of a dead bear cub. His belief that the world can be made a better place leads to his destruction. Herzog's film succeeds in reconstructing Treadwell, a human being like many of us, flawed and full of contrasts: compelling but misunderstood; generous, loving and a times, really angry; someone who was capable to give his life for his ideals.

Well, it seemed strange to be talking about some of my favorite things, like books and movies, and leave her out. Frida came into my life in early October, 1998. She was found on the street, alone, thin and licking a half-empty yoghurt container. The vet said she was approximately 3 weeks old (she had not shed her first set of teeth) and that it seemed that she really didn't spend a lot of time with her mother or siblings. This might be why she seems to identify better with cats than with dogs: once we adopted a baby kitten we found on the street and she immediately took to him; on the contrary, we once babysat my cousin's poodle puppy and she really disliked the idea. We have been together for almost 8 years and she has been a constant source of joy and love. 

Found this somewhere, funny but at the same time, quite scary: 

The Grave of the Fireflies

Even if manga is not your thing, you should truly consider giving this 1998 movie a try. Here, the imdb plot summary:

Setsuko and Seita are brother and sister living in wartime Japan. After their mother is killed in an air raid they find a temporary home with relatives. Having quarreled with their aunt they leave the city and make their home in an abandoned shelter. While their father's destiny who was a soldier is unknown the two must depend on each other to somehow keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. When everything is in short supply, they gradually succumb to hunger and their only entertainment is the light of the fireflies.

The movie, beautiful, poetic and touching, is sometimes funny and oftentimes sad. A true accomplishment: the movie, the characters and the images echo into the night.

I've always said that the only way to truly enjoy a rainy day is to stay home, in bed or in a snug couch, with an interesting book and a cup of coffee. Nevertheless, last week I totally disregarded this wise information and, daringly, decided to go to the movies late in the afternoon. Midway there, as you can guess, I found myself in the middle of a  furious storm. When I finally got to the movie theater, I was drenched from head to toe. Bummer. Luckily, the movie I chose proved worthy of this and more. "Die Gescichte vom weinenden Kamel" (The Story of the Weeping Camel) is interesting, enlightened, moving... everything movies should be. 

Set in the Gobi Desert, South Mongolia, it shows the comings and goings of a family of shepherds. Their lifestyle, which seemed idyllic to me, is simple, filled with love and respect for the other, whether it be a fellow human being or an animal.  The main event of the season, the births of their camel herd, unchains a series of events. One of the camels has an excruciatingly difficult delivery but, with help from the family, out comes a rare white colt. Despite the efforts of the shepherds, the mother rejects the newborn, refusing it her milk and her motherly love. When any hope for the little one seems to have vanished, the nomads send their two young boys (the youngest is absolutely adorable and VERY young) on a journey through the desert, to a town in search of a musician who is their only hope for saving the colt's life.

 An absolute joy, not to be missed.

Last week I was fortunate enough to get away from the city and get some well-earned R+R in beautiful Ixtapa. During my endless sessions of poolside sprawling, I read Reading Lolita in Teheran by Azir Nafisi. I loved it!  The story revolves around a group of women who get together every Thursday morning to discuss forbidden Western literature during the times of the Iran-Iraq war. It also contains vivid and enlightening flashbacks to the chaotic times of the revolution. Two things stand out: the vivid insight into women's lives during the period and the passionate love they feel for literature and how some specific books (like Pride and Prejudice) truly come to life in this distant place. I would like to recommend this book to everyone, and if you decide to read it,  feel free to write to share views! Below, the cover of the book and a pic of Ixtapa.