#interesting
This is why she’s my favorite author.
Check out “Barry Lyndon”, a film whose period interiors were famously shot by period lamp-and-candle lighting (director Stanley Kubrick had to source special lenses with which to do it).
More recently, some scenes in “Wolf Hall” were also shot with period live-flame lighting and IIRC until they got used to it, actors had to be careful how they moved across the sets. However, it’s very atmospheric: there’s one scene where Cromwell is sitting by the fire, brooding about his association with Henry VIII while the candles in the room are put out around him. The effect is more than just visual.
As someone (I think it was Terry Pratchett) once said: “You always need enough light to see how dark it is.”
A demonstration of getting that out of balance happened in later seasons of “Game of Thrones”, most infamously in the complaint-heavy “Battle of Winterfell” episode, whose cinematographer claimed the poor visibility was because “a lot of people don’t know how to tune their TVs properly”.
So it was nothing to do with him at all, oh dear me no. Wottapillock. Needing to retune a TV to watch one programme but not others shows where the fault lies, and it’s not in the TV.
*****
We live in rural West Wicklow, Ireland, and it’s 80% certain that when we have a storm, a branch or even an entire tree will fall onto a power line and our lights will go out.
Usually the engineers have things fixed in an hour or two, but that can be a long dark time in the evenings or nights of October through February, so we always know where the candles and matches are and the oil lamp is always full.
We also know from experience how much reading can be done by candle-light, and it’s more than you’d think, once there’s a candle right behind you with its light falling on the pages.
You get more light than you’d expect from both candles and lamps, because for one thing, eyes adapt to dim light. @dduane says she can sometimes hear my irises dilating. Yeah, sure…
For another thing lamps can have accessories. Here’s an example: reflectors to direct light out from the wall into the room. I’ve tried this with a shiny foil pie-dish behind our own Very Modern Swedish Design oil lamp, and it works.
Smooth or parabolic reflectors concentrate their light (for a given value of concentrate, which is a pretty low value at that) while flatter fluted ones like these scatter the light over a wider area, though it’s less bright as a result:
This candle-holder has both a reflector and a magnifying lens, almost certainly to illuminate close or even medical work of some sort rather than light a room.
And then there’s this, which a lot of people saw and didn’t recognise, because it’s often described in tones of librarian horror as a beverage in the rare documents collection.
There IS a beverage, that’s in the beaker, but the spherical bottle is a light magnifier, and Gandalf would arrange a candle behind it for close study.
Here’s one being used - with a lightbulb - by a woodblock carver.
And here’s the effect it produces.
Here’s a four-sphere version used with a candle (all the fittings can be screwed up and down to get the candle and magnifiers properly lined up) and another one in use by a lacemaker.
Finally, here’s something I tried last night in our own kitchen, using a water-filled decanter. It’s not perfectly spherical so didn’t create the full effect, but it certainly impressed me, especially since I’d locked the camera so its automatic settings didn’t change to match light levels.
This is the effect with candles placed “normally”.
But when one candle is behind the sphere, this happens.
It also threw a long teardrop of concentrated light across the worktop; the photos of the woodcarver show that much better.
Poor-people lighting involved things like rushlights or tallow dips. They were awkward things, because they didn’t last long, needed constant adjustment, didn’t give much light and were smelly. But they were cheap, and that’s what mattered most.
They’re often mentioned in historical and fantasy fiction but seldom explained: a rushlight is a length of spongy pith from inside a rush plant, dried then dipped in tallow (or lard, or mutton-fat), hence both its names.
Here’s Jason Kingsley making one.
Someone who spends a lot of time on the computer will blink considerably less than someone who doesn’t.
This makes sense… We’re all afraid of weeping angels.
I feel so stupid. Here I was going along thinking that phones and tablets handled application updates the same way computers do. Either overwriting the old data with new or uninstalling the old and installing the new, thus maintaining the size of the application or program. But no. Apparently phones and tablets just install the new data alongside the old thus bloating the size of the app to a ridiculous degree. I couldn’t understand why Instagram and FB Messenger were about 4gb each, when my sister, who recently bought a new phone, said her Instagram app was only 700mb. So I uninstalled both of them and then reinstalled them from the app store and lo and behold Instagram and FB Messenger are now both under 200mb. I don’t know if it works the same on iOS, but I would bet it does. Planned obsolescence is annoying AF.
So I was re-reading Dressrosa earlier and I just kinda blew my own mind.
First I need to get something out of the way, otherwise the thing I’m proposing will sound very controversial.
Rebecca’s gladiator outfit. It’s fanservice, bad fanservice. It’s skimpy, it’s not tactical. Hell, it’s not even realistic female armor. It’s just Oda trying to show as much of Rebecca’s body as possible, which is gross considering she’s 16.
We’re on the same page, yes? Yeah? Cool. Now with that out of the way, I’m going to say something almost entirely contradictory.
What if I said there’s an in-story explanation. A reason outside of fanservice that she’s dressed like this?
You see, something that struck me a bit odd while re-reading this chapter is that Kyros’s statue is described as “a half-naked man”. Not really the first thing I notice about him, but ya know, whatever. It’s an accurate description.
Except this is how his statue’s described several times. A nearly-naked man.
I’m thinking to myself “ok, Oda clearly wants me to view the statue with this imagery. But why?” And that’s when my brain made the connection:
Rebecca idolizes this statue. Even though she can’t remember Kyros is her father, she is subconsciously drawn towards his figure and is fascinated. The same can be said for all the people of Dressrosa. Even though they can’t recollect Kyros, or even verify the information on the statue is correct, they’re inclined to not remove it.
She is clearly trying to- without even realizing it -match her father’s image. It’s quite an interesting use of symbolism.
Let’s come back down to Earth real quick. Is this a bit of a stretch? It’s a huge stretch. Should she have had better designed armor? Absolutely. But that fact that there’s even a semblanceof in-story justification for her armor blows my mind, and I’m baffled that I didn’t make the connection any of the other times I’ve watched or read Dressrosa.
The tragic irony of Lucy writing earnestly about how married people should tell each other everything while Jonathan is being forced to write fraudulent letters to Mina is really heartbreaking.
He longs to be honest with her, but he’s not in a place where he can.
It’s also interesting because the two are not juxtaposed in the original book. The change to emails created something rather tragic.
To the people in the notes asking what order the original book is in:
The entirety of Jonathan’s journal comes first in the book, which goes until the end of June. After [redacted] happens, Jonathan’s journal from Transylvania ends.
Only then do we get Lucy and Mina’s letters and the assorted documents from the suitors. Which does go backwards chronologically. The emails have interspersed these with Jonathan’s journal.
There is also a slight back and forth in July between chapters 6 and 7 since two sets of simultaneous events happen in separate chapters in the book.
Once we get to August everything will proceed chronologically as it does in the book.
today I learned that in 2008, the city council of florence overturned dante’s sentence of execution if he returned from exile. yes, dante’s inferno dante, who died in 1321.
but the funniest part of this is not that they were debating the exile of a man who has been dead for over 500 years.
the funniest part is that the vote was 19-5. five people voted to uphold dante’s exile.