02.27.10

Perfect Snogging=Full Frontal Snogging

Posted in Louise Rennison at 4:25 pm by Janet

A couple weeks ago I spent a Saturday afternoon watching Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging, the movie version of the first two (?) books in the Georgia Nicolson series. Sadly, the movie didn’t live up to the books. Masimo didn’t appear and Dave the Laugh only had a small part. Georgia showed actual warm and positive feelings toward her parents. There was NO MENTION of the Tarts Wardrobe. Probably my biggest problem was that my mental image of Georgia (a teenage British Bridget, as I have mentioned before and of course mean in the best possible way) didn’t match up with the girl on the screen. Alas, this is the danger of watching any film adaptation of a movie. This adaptation was particularly disappointing because Georgia’s hilarious internal voice, expressed so uniquely in the books, just didn’t come through.

OK, OK, to be fair, if I hadn’t read all the books AND if I were 12, I would have liked this movie. It was a fun little romp with cute rocker boys. And there were some bright spots: Angus (even though he didn’t look like a Scottish Wild Cat) and Georgia’s kissing lesson. But long story short, I’m here to tell you that I watched it so you won’t have to.

12.04.09

Basoomas and Scottish Wildcats

Posted in Louise Rennison at 6:22 pm by Janet

While I was reading the new–and last–Georgia Nicolson book, I kept talking about it, so much so that Lucianonymous threatened to walk out on me. Since he won’t talk to me about Georgia, I’ll talk to you. So…Georgia’s up to her usual tricks, snogging Masimo, warding off (?) Dave the Laugh, baiting Wet Lindsay, trying to get Jas out of her huffmobile. But this time, the Stiff Dylans get an offer to move to/play in London and Masimo may have to leave her. What will Georgia do? Will she go with Masimo? Will he stay with her? Or will something else entirely happen? Georgia has to make what may be her final choice–Luuurrve God or ???? As usual, it’s hilarious.

I also noted at least two mentions of the Tarts Wardrobe. As in “I think I might go to the tarts’ wardrobe until the song’s over.”  I like to think Georgia was referring to our blog, but most likely it was the ladies room. Sigh.

To be honest, my favorite part of the book was the back matter (not that I didn’t like the book, I just really, really liked the back matter). There’s a section about Scottish Wildcats. You can read about “The Brethren of Angus” AND go to a website that supports them.  My oohing and ahhing over this may have been what drove Lucianonymous over the edge, but I don’t care. Those Scottish Wildcats are the best. Note that Scottish Wildcats can breed with domestic cats–hello Angus??? Ahem, “Pound for pound the Scottish wildcat is one of the most impressive predators in the world; intelligent, fearless, resourceful, patient, agile and powerful they are genuine superpredators and until as recently as the 1950s were believed to be man killers.”

Lucianonymous doesn’t know what he’s missing. Hmph!

11.30.09

The End? by Bridget

Posted in Louise Rennison at 2:41 pm by Bridget

I have the last Confessions of Georgia Nicolson book Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?.

I’ve read a chunk of it, but then I set it  aside because I don’t want it to all be over.

So so sad.

What will Louise Rennison do next? Do you think she’ll start another series or is she going on to some other exciting adventure?

Bridget

01.04.09

A Brit Speaks

Posted in Louise Rennison at 9:51 pm by Janet

Thank heavens! A real live British person has come to the rescue!  A friend who prefers to be known as “Lucianonymous” has shed some light on Georgia, her expressions, and her situation. Lucianonymous is neither female nor a teenager, but he is British and therefore somehow qualified to comment. Here’s what he had to say.

What is your experience with Scottish Wild Cats?
I was raised by them (not wolves) till the age of twenty-seven, but since then have had no contact with them.

What is a jammy dodger and have you ever eaten one?
It’s a small biscuit (cookie) whose centre is filled usually with raspberry or strawberry jam. I have eaten them, and do so in a strange and possibly illegal manner.

What was your high school like? Single sex or not? Did you wear uniforms and/or berets?
Catholic. Yes, all (only) girls and boys. Pupils had to wear a tie and slacks (or shorts). A school jacket and pullover were optional. No berets, more’s the pity. I was of course a rebel, so only wore black (including,
of course, a black turtleneck and shades) from the age of five through high school.

What do you think of when you hear the phrase “Tarts’ Wardrobe”?
A place where loose women congregate to apply make-up, swear, smoke cigarettes, and realign their cleavage.

Can you define shorts, pants, knickers, and y-fronts in British-ese?
Shorts are a truncated form of trousers (or pantaloons, as we called them). They are designed to cut off blood flow to the midsection and therefore prevent dirty thoughts. Typically, we wore them till the age of
about thirteen, after which age the authorities realised that constriction was pointless and possibly even dangerous.

Pants are male underwear – typically Y-fronts (so called because of the Y-shaped opening at their front). They were usually passed down from son to son to son to son to son, often in the space of a single week. Once they were beyond salvation, they were not thrown away, but burned.

Knickers are female underwear, though I from time to time —. They are often frilly. The only knickers I saw until the age of thirty-one were those hanging from old ladies’ washing lines. They tended to be very
large, and when they caught the wind ballooned to about the size of an ox.

Y-fronts are male knickers. Contrary to my previous explanation, they are called Y-fronts because when your mother confronted you with a ragged and somewhat musty pair and told you to put them, all you could say was “Why?”

Which boy should Georgia chose and why? The Sex God, Italian Stallion, or Dave the Laugh?
Dave the Laugh – because sex is ephemeral, gods don’t exist, and Italian men are whiny momma’s boys. And, to be pretentious: “Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand.” – Mark Twain (who was Scottish).

12.22.08

Random Thoughts

Posted in Louise Rennison at 9:59 pm by Janet

It’s nippy noodles outside. I’m sitting here shivering and gathering some random thoughts about the Georgia Nicolson books.

Have you been to the Confessions of Georgia Nicolson website? Pick US or UK. Both fun. I like the extras on the UK site and the glossary on the US site.  

Did you know that there’s a movie version? It came out in the UK and other places (not the US) and it’s called Angus, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging. The website for the movie, complete with trailers and fun stuff, is here. I kind of don’t like the idea. Just looking at the website, neither Georgia nor Angus looks like I imagined them. Angus is all furry and gray. I thought he’d be a large, brown, hoary beast straight out of the Scottish Highlands. He looks way too foofy, not like he’d like to toss a caber or menace the neighbors’ poodle. Plus, Georgia’s internal dialog is what makes the books so funny–unless done extremely well, this will get lost in a movie.

Have you ever noticed how Georgia’s age is almost never mentioned? That way her adventures can go on in perpetuity.

Here are some of my favorite Georgia expressions. How I wish a nice British person would come along and explain them.
dustbins
nervy spaz
agony aunt
bugger/bugger off
po faced
stroppy
Elderly Mad
anything-a-go-go
erlack-a-pongoes

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