So, there's a review up for the Woodiwiss... except not really.  Le sigh.  Like the Fast before it, I was tricked, misled by Amazon.com and helpful people with their slightly not quite right recommendations.  Nevertheless, let it not be said that I don't learn from my mistakes.

I should really hit the de Palma/Williams film next, or even the Friedman/Rydell as that's next in line, but my male counterpart is snoring away right next to the television, and considering that he went to bed around 5:30 this morning, I haven't the heart to wake him with all the screaming guitars and frantic pencil-scribbling.  So for the moment we'll go to the Greenberg anthology, and hope that we can get a film churned out on Tuesday when I'm off from work.

Also, with a groan I realized that the Woosley/Kisgen film was going to be out on Monday, but I appear to have been spared the axe for another month; the film has been pushed back to January 31st.  For all the good it will do me, little masochist that I am.

It seems I have blogged too soon.  The Grell and Binkley just showed up.  Huzzah!  I've added them to the creaking pile, for later perusal.

John thinks the Grell is the best thing he's ever seen.  And, really, who can resist the combination of Phantom and Batman?  I certainly can't.

The Webber review is up!  Everyone, come do the dance of completed work with me.  It's liberating!  Yeah, I know I said it would be up yesterday, but I didn't take into account a sudden bout of hypersomnia (though considering at what time the kittens woke me up yesterday morning, I probably should have).

Despite some headaches with getting everything posted, I'm extremely grateful to get that monster out of the way.  It's probably a lucky thing that the next one on my list, the Woodiwiss, is much lighter fare.  However, I'm worried that this will turn out to be another Beast-esque fiasco, and I'm sort of scared to open it up and find out.

Anne, literary wuss.  Who knew.

First of all, merry Christmas to everyone.  Glad we got that out of the way.

Secondly, I know I'm a terrible slacker, but I promise the Webber review is 3/4 done and should be up some time tomorrow so I can get on with my life already.  In the meantime, I ordered a few more small things (but all my wallet will be able to handle for quite some time, I fear) and will be anxiously awaiting their arrival.  I still have not received the Aumack or the Flynn that I ordered a month ago, so I've sent out queries about those and hopefully the situation will be resolved soonish.

Back to writing for me.  Woohoo!

Yesterday was my birthday, so I was a lazy beeyotch.  Feel free to sue me.  However, in the spirit of garnering sympathy for my lazy ways, here's a photo of my To Be Read shelf (well, really, my To Be Read coffee table... I don't have the shelf space to spare at the moment), full of Phantomy goodness:



Of course, there's going to be a lot more than that--I estimate about ten more books, not to mention twice as many DVDs and way more than just those two lonely CDs there--but it's a start, isn't it?

The Fast review is up... such as it is.  You see, the thing is, it turns out that the book had nothing to do with the Phantom story after all.  What a bummer, huh?  I'm leaving it on here as a reminder that I need to be less sloppy about things.  Besides, we can learn from our failures, right?

I'm much less upset about this than I could be, because it means I don't have to finish that miserable novel.  Woohoo!  On to more relevant and enjoyable works!

I should really get the Webber up next.  It's daunting because it's a big project, and also because I know the damn thing really well and it's difficult to approach it from a completely unbiased standpoint.  However, since so many other things are based upon it, I really should get the monster over with so I can move on.  Alas.

As John is prone to saying, "Zomg."

Another package came today, with two more books from my Phantom list (Deney and Newman)!  Apparently John just went down the line.

He is the best boyfriend ever.

I got some unexpected packages in the mail today; they had Phantom books in them. While this isn't strange in and of itself, what is strange is that I didn't order them. It turns out that John did, as my birthday present.

This is the man who has been prone to calling me crazy, insane, unbalanced, weird, and ridiculous since the moment I embarked on my zany grad school quest. He clearly doesn't understand why I would want to do it, what possible point it could have, or otherwise see any redeeming value in the whole project.  He's not big on dissertational studies, having been raised on a firm understanding that ladies are for the making and maintenance of babies.

But, he bought me books for it, without being asked to or hinted at. Because he loves me and wants me to be happy even when he has no idea what insanity I'm up to. So thank you, babe. It means the world to me.

(Incidentally, he bought me the ones he thought were the coolest... so, Sherlock Holmes [the Meyer] and a bunch of tabby cats in opera clothes [the Wood]. That's my baby.)

The Barthelme review is up!  Yes, I know, you would think it wouldn't have taken me that long to write a review of a story that was literally only 5 pages long, but I would tell you that you were wrong.  And then stare haughtily at you until you backed off, so I could salvage my pride.

Moving on to the Fast next, finally--I feel like I haven't read anything in ages.  Even the Barthelme, excellent as it was, felt like a mere tidbit.  Satiate my appetite, oh literature!

Sweet baby Jesus, I hate the flu.  But now that that's behind me, productivity can resume.

The long, long, long delayed Lubin/Rains review is finally up--huzzah, the blasting of trumpets, etc.  I'll be doing Barthelme's short story next so that I can hopefully slap up another review in short order, and then move on to something meatier.

Begging for death.

Blind.

Unable to type.

Updates later.

Pray for immortal soul.

As usual, I have spoken too soon.  It looks like the Lubin/Rains essay will be finished tomorrow.  But to pacify my conscience, I got the Barthelme, and since I didn't have the chance to start the Fast yet, it will get moved to the front of the queue.

I'll totally pretend that makes it all okay.  See?

Finished the Lubin/Rains film!  Despite taking two days to do so.  DVD players that panic and freeze in the middle of movies do not make me a particularly happy person.  I'll try to get the review for that up tonight or tomorrow, and in the meantime plod along with everything else.

I should be doing the Barthelme short story next, but I've been lazy and not picked it up from the library yet (it's cold!  Very cold!).  I'll try to swing by and grab it after work today, but in the meantime I'll move on to the Fast for my next endeavor.  Let's hear it for progress!

Look at me go!  The Siciliano review is up and vaguely legible!  It is also a little bit... er.  Well, pointed.  But hey, it's my opinion, right?  The worst that can happen is they fail me, and after this volume of work they wouldn't dare.

A DVD blitz arrived tonight, including the Yu/Cheung, Argento/Sands and de Palma/Memmoli films, as well as the DVD recording of the Knight musical.  So much to get started on!  Hopefully I'll get a chance to watch the Lubin/Rains tomorrow, and maybe my laziness will abate for a while.

Wow. Sometimes you come across people who are kind of amazing.  Sometimes you come across people who are pretty awesome.  And then there's Pete Bregman.

Remember me whining about how I could only find the second and third installments of The Trap-Door Maker, and how the first book was sold out or out of print or whatever?  There was wailing and gnashing of teeth.  I'm sure you remember, if only so you could instruct other people to euthanize you if you ever behaved similarly.  Anyway, the brilliant folks over at the Phans Online forum were as baffled as I, but one of them (thank you so much, Sultana!) dug up Mr. Bregman's email for me.  Since every book retailer and comic distributor and online auction site in the world had already failed me, and since the Treehouse Animation (the company The Trap-Door Maker was published with) website was down, I shot him a note asking where I could buy it, since I figured if anyone would know, he would.  And frankly, I was out of other avenues to explore.

I figured, well... the worst that can happen is that he's pissed off I used his email and shouts at me.  I hate cyber-shouting.

Instead, he sent me back a very nice note saying that unfortunately, Book 1 had been sold out and not reprinted for some time; and then he proceeded to offer me a link to his personal webserver, so I could download the book for free.  For free.  Because he is seriously just that nice a guy and wanted to help me out.

(If there are any opportunists out there in the milling throng, be advised that he's already deactivated said link, and that I only downloaded book 1, not the others.  Trust me: Pete Bregman is cool enough that he deserves your money.  Go buy his other two volumes for their paltry $6 apiece or whatever it is on Amazon, because A) they are awesome, and B) he is a great guy.)

So:  Word up, Pete Bregman.  You rock my socks.  The world would be a much nicer place if people--or even artists--were all as awesome as you are.  And your art is pretty damn phenomenal, too.

The Woodiwiss arrived today, and I finished the Siciliano.  I am still too sick to see straight, but will attempt to write... something... in some form... yeah.

Hey, you shut up.  My efforts should be applauded.

The Lubin/Rains finally--finally!--showed up!  Glee all around.  It came in with the Preiss, and I picked up the Tarchetti at the library, so things are looking up.

Oh, except for the fact that I am sick.  Miserably, loathsomely sick.  It would be tragic if I had spent all of this time and energy and money on this thing only to die within spitting distance of a degree.

Oh. My. God.

So, as we're all aware, I'm busily and happily poking along on my little Phantom project, gleefully subjecting my friends list to endless reviews and inane ramblings, all in the name of academic discovery. In the course of collecting material for this mammoth endeavor, I've of course become aware of a new movie coming out at the end of this month. Angel of Music from Lighthouse Ltd. Pictures was originally intended to be a period retelling of the Phantom story, but after the wildly popular 2004 movie and various problems (mostly budgetary, from what I can tell) with the production, the premise was altered. The film now chronicles a reporter's quest to discover the true origins of the Phantom story and whether there is any truth to the events Leroux relates; along the way, events from the story begin to take on a life of their own and the reporter finds himself and his loved ones embroiled in scenes that eerily resemble those of the Phantom story, until no one is certain what is real and what is not. Period interludes begin to pepper the movie as it moves along, intensifying the confusion between reality and memory, fantasy and history.

Sounds cool, right? I was psyched from the description. There are plenty of straight-up interpretations of the story itself; how cool would it be if someone did something like this, that explored the psychological elements by tying them to a contemporary context and laid bare the themes of insanity and social stigma in an updated fashion, while still retaining enough of the period sensibilities to keep things fresh and interesting and hold the allegory together? That would be awesome. Imagine it with me, a Baz Luhrmann-esque journey through surrealism and psychosis.

This is not that movie.

Trailer the First
Trailer the Second

Be sure to watch that first one for the most limp-wristed wife abuse in the history of mankind. I haven't laughed that hard in... I don't know. I think watching the trailers may have killed some of the brain cells responsible for long-term memory. I've seen better acting from five-year-olds smeared with stolen chocolate.

I... just... argh. There are no more words. I'm torn between hysterical laughter and suicide.

I need to go lie down. I'll have to work up a more powerful will to live after the realization that I will not only have to watch this movie and pay attention, but will probably also pay money for the privilege.

At least the Lubin/Rains movie finally showed up, and the Yozaburo.  I can go watch an example of good filmmaking, or at least mediocre filmmaking, to scrub my brain.

Holy crap, I wrote a second essay in as many days. I should get an ice cream cone or something for that kind of dedication!

The Charnas review is online. Time to celebrate by falling into bed and sleeping like a rock until I have to get up for work!

I need to be encouraged to stop procrastinating. Probably with a whip.

The Meyer review is finally finished and up! Look at me be productive. Be productive, Anne, be productive! I'll be moving on to the Charnas tomorrow as I'm still operating on a library deadline; after that and the Siciliano, hopefully I'll be able to get back to my tentative timeline.

And on the shipping end of things, I got the de Mendes yesterday and the Stuart today. Sundays always depress me because I know there will be no mail and thus, no new books. What does that say about me?

Finished the Meyer, and then promptly proceeded to get incredibly busy at work and not write anything about it. Somewhere, a professor just tsked an exasperated tsk and doesn't know why. Hopefully, tomorrow will see that little project finished.

But on the happy flip side, I got the Jacobs and the Chappel today! It's like Christmas every day around here.

(Dear Amazon, I am pleased as punch that you wanted to send me the Chappel way earlier than you projected, but are you aware that the Lubin/Rains film has been supposedly "about to arrive" for a month? Please advise.)

In a blitz of productivity, I'm scant pages away from finishing the Meyer. Supposedly, theoroetically, conceivably, I might even start writing about it tomorrow.

I know, I'm as shocked as you are.

I am Anne. Watch me procrastinate.

The Bischoff review is finally done and up! Man, for a tiny little book I took a lot of notes. Let's hope that's not a trend, or I may never see the end of this project.

By rights, I should be reading Greenberg's Phantoms next (well, actually, I should be watching Ye Bang ge Sheng and writing a review of that and Webber's musical first, but I think we all know what will happen if we let me detour for that long), but unfortunately reality is intruding upon my carefully crafted deadline. Three of these delightful nuggets of literary zest (the Meyer, the Siciliano, and the Charnas) are due back at the library in a week or so, so unfortunately they must be moved to the front of the queue. I will therefore be moving on to the Meyer tomorrow, and hoping that the note-taking doesn't kill me.

However, I can celebrate a new package today: the Liu, Vehlow and Bruns all landed on my doorstep this morning! Glee, and creaking of my To Be Read shelf!

Finally finished the Bischoff! Man, that little book took more notes than the Chaney movie by several pages. Now, if only I could get off my lazy ass and write them out so I can move on to the next...

And speaking of the next, package came through from Lulu! Welcome to my parlor, Garza, Soper-Cook and Taylor.

Interestingly, sometime in the last week Sarah Flanagan, one of the most prolfic self-publishers of Phantom materials, suddenly yanked all of her previously available stuff off of Lulu.com. I'm not as distraught as I could be--after all, I'd heard that they were pretty darn awful--but the scholar in me is wailing in depression. Now I'll never get to read them and call them nasty names! Never get to make spurious conclusions about the psychological state of the writer! I'm considering weeping, but instead will probably just poke around the web and see if anyone has any old copies for sale at a reasonable price.

Let's just hope they're on the reality side of reasonable. Whomever that person on Amazon is who thinks those Sheryl Aumack novels are going to sell for over $200 each is both depressing me with their desire to take advantage of hardcore fans and amusing me with their assumption that anyone, even the hardcore fans, is going to buy them at that price. I just backordered it from somewhere else. Sucker!

Progress was made on the Bischoff today, though again I'm not entirely sure how I could still be only 75 pages into the slim little thing. I blame those pesky people at work... what do you call them... ah, yes, my clients. And the copious notes. If I could just stop taking notes like a demented obsessive-compulsive psychopath, I could just enjoy these books and... ah, yes, I'm supposed to be taking notes. Alas.

But the Sillesen and the second two The Trap-Door Maker volumes arrived today, so the rejoicing can continue unabated. Though, seriously... why does no one in the entire known universe carry the first volume of The Trap-Door Maker? It can't already be out of print, can it? Diamond, I'm shaking my impotent little fist at you right now.

Argh. Is there anything as frustrating as having the second two volumes of a trilogy, but not the first?

The Hernandez came in today... which is good, because it was quite late and I was beginning to wonder if it had gotten lost in transit.

Now, if only I would stop being a slacker and finish the Bischoff (seriously, it's about three pages long--what the hell), I could keep on moving!

As usual, everything comes in one big box that makes me wait! Today's haul includes the Minton, the Miller, the Greenberg, the Yoshinaka, the Ebert, and the other Meadows, as well as the Richardson/Dance film and the Yeston/Kopit musical. Eeee! My coffee table is groaning under their weight, but I'm loving it.

New review up! That's right, despite having been a lazy ass about it, first round of notes on the Julian/Chaney film are up and (mostly) readable. On to the written word (and let's face it... that's always been my first love, anyway). I don't have the films leading up to the next written work, which is the Bischoff, but hopefully I'll be able to fill in that gap later.

Well, actually, I do have the original Ye Bang ge Sheng. But I think I'm going to do the Eastern interpretations separately if I can help it; certainly I don't think I'll have too much of a problem separating the influences that come from previous versions, at any rate.

One of the Meadows has arrived. My victory dance was epic and scared the cats.

Finished the Julian/Chaney film tonight. It was very excellent, though the classical score caused John some mild embarrassment when it was overheard by his gaming buddies. Ah, well. I sacrifice, he sacrifices.

The kittens seem to have approved. They watched the carriage chase with me in rapt attention. John approved of my turning it off.

Bam, a big old box came from Amazon today! Prebler, Cole and Gale all make their way to my shelves while I chortle with glee, as well as the Schumacher/Butler film popping up a day early. It's like Christmas every day!

The first review is up! Oh, Leroux. You crazy bastard. Next up is the Julian/Chaney film, as it's both next chronologically and probably the third most influential source, beside Leroux and Webber. Watch me be productive!

There's a smile on my face for the whole human race; why, it's almost like... my Phantom book finally showed up!

That's right, Leroux finally decided to put in an appearance. Time to dive in! A couple of others made their way to me as well, including the Chaney DVD and the third Montgomery, and I'm psyched. Can't wait to get going... though I will say that it was discouraging to see grammatical errors in the foreword, which is supposedly written by the translator. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with my novel being translated from the original language by someone who can't avoid comma splices... but we'll see. I've heard good things about this translation, and will give it the benefit of the doubt.

Now, I'm very tempted to just buy the rest of my list WILLY-NILLY, WITHOUT REGARD FOR THE CONSEQUENCES. Someone should probably stop me.

Still short on books, and awake early because of Daylight Savings Time and John's having to get up for class. I haven't been idle, however: a few little exercises in comparative media were enough to sate my ravening desire to get to work already. For now. In the future, who knows? Amazon may yet triumph by claiming my fragile sanity.

Five books came in the mail today. Five. I walked in with the boxes and John said, "Did you get your book?" and I said, "I got three packages, it's got to be in one of them.

Well, guess what? IT'S NOT.

Sigh. Two of the three Montgomerys, the Pettengill, the Bischoff, and the Charnas, now proudly in my to be read pile. But the original Leroux? Nowhere to be seen. Never mind that I ordered it at least a week before most of the titles above.

Somewhere, an Amazon shipping dude who hates his job is chortling over the agony he's putting me through. Damn you, shipping dude. Damn you.

The saga continues! I am on a journey of discovery, I tell you.

Is The Phantom of the Opera On Ice not one of the most entertaining ideas you've encountered today? It has been immediately added to my list. For educational purposes.

Somewhere deep in my soul, a gawky seven-year old in skates three sizes too big and mismatched butterfly barrettes thinks that is friggin' awesome.

Another day, another book (hello, Night Magic!) that isn't the one I need to start. Instead of tearing my hair out, I turn to you, gentlemen and ladies, for your opinions.

I've had a few discussions about this before, but what would be the best way to approach this in terms of which materials to tackle first? Should I go at it chronologically--i.e., start with the original novel and then hit everything else in order of its being written/filmed/what have you, or should I try to organize more by type--all books, then all movies, then all musicals, etc.? And what further delineations should be made within those categories as I figure this out?

I'm leaning toward fully chronological, but as that would entail a lot more sitting around while my deadlines slowly tick down and materials are lost in the mail or orbiting Neptune or god knows where they are (Leroux, why do you want to make me cry?), it might have to be... pseudo-chronological. No one tell the profs.

Another book arrived! I've added Into the Light to the pile and to the progress page, but... it's still not the original, which I need before I can get started.

What do I have to do, Leroux? What do I have to do?

Sigh. Maybe tomorrow... just in time for vacation to be over.

Terry Pratchett's Maskerade and Rebecca Ashe's Masque of the Swan have found their way to my door! Unfortunately, my annotated Leroux still isn't here, meaning that I get to sit on my hands for a little while longer as I wait for it to show up so I can get started. It would be kind of silly to do a comparative study without reading the original first, wouldn't it? Le sigh.

A plague on iUniverse's houses. To include the self-published, or not to include? That is the question. I'm trying to be as all-encompassing as possible, obviously--what good is looking at the diffusion of literature if I don't include enough literature to get a representative sample?--but if I start trying to plow through all the Phantom fanfiction on the web, I'll drown. Literally. In reams of electronic letters that will come out of the screen and choke my nose and throat. On the one hand, self-published volumes are really only fanfiction that someone had a few dollars to put in shoddily bound format; but on the other hand, many of the works we consider from the Gothic era were published by vanity presses. Some of these self-published novels are popular enough to have made it onto Amazon; who am I to say they aren't real literature?

I think, for completeness' sake, I'll include them. After all, everybody's novel is amateur at some point. I wish I could include all the fanfiction out there, too, but I can't write a very effective dissertation if my eyes are bleeding from strain... not to mention the homicide that might occur after the fiftieth really bad one. My powers of mockery can only stretch so far before I snap.

Of course, this means I now have to troll Lulu and iUniverse for material. As if I didn't have enough going on yet.

The first of my ordered books is here! Susan Kay's Phantom gets to join the distinguished company of my Sherlock Holmes pile.

Further interesting news in the case of the Phantom, whose mythos continues to spread like a particularly pernicious but prettily colored mold. Apparently, Andrew Lloyd Webber confirmed back in March that he was going to be starting work on a sequel musical to his original adaptation of Phantom, supposedly based on Forsyth's The Phantom of Manhattan, which is currently sitting on my coffee table pining because I haven't started it yet. It's a daunting undertaking; it's hard to imagine a sequel being able to measure up to the smash-hit popularity of the first one, which is one of the most popular musicals of all time at this point.

Leaving aside all the industry scuttlebutt/gossip that goes along with it--who would get cast? Quick, develop your Dream Casts and follow along!--there's the question of fan response. It appears that The Phantom of Manhattan is almost universally hated by fans of Webber's musical, though as I have yet to read it I don't yet know why. Thematically, as well, the idea is problematic; I mean, a lot of the themes of the original story, including the poignant loss at the end, could be invalidated by suddenly plunking the same characters back together as though nothing had happened.

But! I will analyze themes later. When I've actually read the book. For now, I'll just spend time I should be doing work (actual work in my office, that is) scouring the internet for further information. Even knowing it'll be a disaster in terms of the themes of Webber's first musical, I'll still probably be disappointed if it doesn't get made.

...that's the great thing about being a literary vulture. I'm happy if it's good, and I'm happy if it's a hideous carcass of a production. Both will give me insight. Ain't psychology grand?

The more work I do, the more work I make. Go me.

So, originally, I was planning to do this Phantom project on English-language materials only. This is hypocritical, I know, since the original novel is French, but cut me some slack; I don't speak French, so I have to stick with what I know. I can't really have much of an insight into a piece of literature if I can't read most of the words. Up to this point (yes, this highly advanced point of five days or whatever into things), that hasn't been a problem; I've tripped over a couple of Spanish language films, but they were mostly in the bad pulp film arena, without having much to contribute that the English-language films wouldn't. So I wasn't worrying about it, until I encountered a film that's made me reconsider my stance and praise the gods of subtitling: Ye Bang Ge Sheng.

This is the Chinese version of Phantom, and its title translates roughly to "Midnight Song". There are seven or eight versions of it, from 1937 all the way up to this year. The original 1937 version was a massive cultural event over there from what I can understand, being a hugely popular hit that incorporated elements of the 1925 Lon Chaney version but was magnificently acted and adapted for Eastern culture. The music is supposedly amazing, and each subsequent version has kept some of the original score because of this.

That's probably reason enough to include the films on my list, but as I'm looking at plot synopses, the ideas are practically drowning me. I don't want to say too much in case I'm misreading a translation or something, but there are certain key differences in the plot--for example, it's not a young woman opera singer that the Phantom takes under his wing, but a young tenor--that make it almost irresistible. The whole point of this project is to examine interpretation and the psychology thereof, so a chance to see how an Asian culture's view differs from the Western? Oh, yes, please.

So, despite the fact that it's going to be a huge pain in the ass to import copies, and despite the fact that unless I'm lucky the translations and subtitles probably won't be very good, and despite the fact that I'm opening an entirely new can of worms--another entire paper's worth, really--by bringing in a radically different cultural interpretation... man. I cannot pass this up. At least the original version and the highly-touted 1995 version are going to have to be added to my list.

I think I'm just setting myself up to never finish, ever.

Edited to add: I just found a further two Phantom films, which are both takarazuke (a form of Japanese theatre wherein all roles are played by women) productions, and which are musicals--not the Webber musical, either, but the Yeston! My glee is uncontainable.

As many famous philosophers have frequently said, the quest for knowledge is fraught with peril.

In this case, I've just discovered far too many Phantom pornos. Good god. There are about five more that I found that I didn't even finish investigating, because I somehow failed to want to keep up with the looking at porn while John wonders what the hell is wrong with me.

I need to scrub my brain with bleach now. I can accept Phantom porn--hell, I was excited about the erotica novel--but does it have to be such bad porn?

Clearly, I will need to include some of these in the research process. It's for knowledge!

I went to raid the library today, and discovered that the New York Library not only doesn't have most of the books on my list, but the ones it does have are... drumroll... the Sherlock Holmes crossovers. As my sister says, WTF, mate. I don't want to confuse the process by reading those first, so they'll get to sit on my coffee table for a few days, leering at the other books in my room and scaring them.

Today's notecards (man, I can barely read my own scribbles when I'm going fast):

Phantom cult; frequent references to the "magic" or the "passion" or the "beauty" and gag me with a spoon. Fans as rabidly frothing as anime fans. All books given either a 5 or a 0 star review as some point out they suck and others argue that the "purity & beauty" outweigh the suck. Discuss degradation of LeRoux over time/cultural diffusion/popular culture & artistic interpretation vs. original version/themes & mutation via public opinion. Consider pithy quip/hilarious and/or insightful comparison, deformity of Erik = paralleled by deformity of text over time, pat self on back and bask in ego (man I kill me).

I'll be raiding the Manhattan branch libraries tomorrow, but in the meantime I went out to the Strand and picked up one of the books in question. I always feel accomplished when I go to the Strand and actually find something I was looking for. It's akin to the feeling one gets when one finds Waldo.

For the time being, the New York Public Library system is letting me down a bit (because if there's one thing the library system exists for, it's to supply me with obscure books for my even more obscure and professor-despair-inducing research project); I've so far only been able to pin down about five or six out of that list of thirty-five books, and maybe three of the films. Clearly, my pocketbook will be the one to suffer here. I've already ordered two of the remainder from Alibris, but does anyone else know of good places to look up online for these bad boys? Sadly, for me, cost is more a factor than anything else; with Christmas coming up soon, I'm going to probably have to abandon buying books until far, far in the future, but it's a nice pipe dream.

With the help of my friendly neighborhood Erika, I've gotten all organized and stuff (well, okay, not really). The bare, bargain-basement bones of things are here for now. Yes, it looks like crap. Give me a break. I did it in ten minutes. This isn't an html editing project, it's a literature project. Dammit, Jim!

It's mostly just so I don't do boneheaded things like buying the same book twice or forgetting what the hell I've just written a review of. Because believe me, I will do those boneheaded things without supervision.

Related thoughts that I wrote on notecards as I worked on things today:

Male vs. female authors, preponderance of females; belies gender-specific tendencies or collective subconscious? Suspense/thriller versions mostly male, romances mostly female, discuss? No go, could be pen names, no way to tell actual gender of authors, epic fail.

Author influences: 80% Webber, 19% transference, 1% Leroux. Poor Leroux.

Tortured hero vs. fluff hero--Byronic influence? Original influences/references for Leroux, annotations or footnotes useful or need further materials? Catharsis = audience reaction = preference for Erik, i.e. tragedy with emotional redemption, vs. good feelings = no closure = audience coolness for Raoul, further fleshed out? Raoul = cardboard character, or just audience preference for extreme suffering as leading point to more impressive resolution?

Harass people for related media? Genres left out--theatre (non-musical), others? Input from other sources, any friends/readers got any ideas?