Phallic what now!?

"Feminist theorists have devoted some attention to the gun which Isabella desires, and the whip requested by Catherine at the beginning of the novel, reading both of these as phallic symbols. It is important to note that as phallic symbols they signify desire not for the penis as such, but for the power the penis represents." Good to know, York Notes. Good to know. You know that you have done too much revision in a day when stuff like this starts making sense. After all, what is English Literature without a bit of phallic symbolism? Innocent? Dull? Actually, it is exactly the same. Because you know what? We make it up! NO Septimus Smith's nervous habit of fiddling with his pen knife does not show us that he has erectile dysfunction. NO the dog's tongue in Wuthering Heights is not a bloody penis! AND the word 'prick' does not necessarily have rude connotations. It can just mean prick... Of course, if you are an A-level Lit student, you will know exactly what I'm talking about. The final straw for me was "Oh Remus Lupin? Well he's obviously a phallic symbol isn't he?!" (Mrs Lynn Byford) WOAH, woah. Hold it right there! I didn't let her finish. How could I? Lupin is the best fictional character of all time with his Atticus Finch-esque calm demeanour, wolfish tendencies and friendship with both Sirius Black AND James Potter (earning him instant cool points). I will not have him ruined as all other books have been ruined with all this trouser snake talk.

Right. Penis rant over, I have had a lovely week. The sun has been shining, I have dressed up as Hermione Granger (I am aware that with two Harry Potter references I am beginning to sound like a bit of a loon. This is a sacrifice I am willing to make) and I saw James Cracknell. THE James Cracknell I fell a bit in love with as he trekked through ice and put up with Ben Fogle's constant whinging. I was sat in a beer garden in Devon, and there he was! I was forced to cut my ogling short however, as one of his kids decided to vomit everywhere. Turns out this love is conditional...

I wish I looked a little bit more like Idina Menzel. Look at her! Just look! She's so awesomely talented and cool and... witchy. And so I am back on the Glee bandwagon after a bit of a rain check. I just watched last week's episode, and it was completely amazing. It combined my three main loves: Les Mis, cheekbones and dodgy sixties laments (in the form of The Mamas and the Papas). If you haven't seen it, it's well worth it. It even forged a place in my heart for Billy Joel. Not bad, eh?


On a side note... Ruthie might just rival Idina in the cool stakes. If only they didn't all have stupid names...