I often think immersive theater is the other side of the coin when it comes to modern drama, heads to the electronic literature tails. As much as I love novels and books, we’re moving away from what is now a traditional story medium.
Snow – You will probably need to borrow from Mother Nature.
Play in the Snow! – If you are a child, put on your gear and go sledding, make snowpeople, have a snowball fight.
If you are an adult, you most likely no longer own a sled or even a greased cookie sheet big enough to hold you. And you’d have to drive to the nearest big hill, thus defeating the point of it being too snowy to safely drive to work today. I advise standing outside like a lunatic trying to lick the snowflakes, and making snow angels in your increasingly soppy pajamas.
Hot Meal and/or Beverage – After playing in the snow, you must replenish your energy. Soup is traditional, but if you’re not that hungry hot chocolate is best. Again, if you’re an adult and calorie counting a cuppa tea is probably your best bet. This is voided when you have a roommate who works at Williams-Sonoma and comes home with a bag of cocoa mix sized to fit Thor, God of Thunder.
Entertainment – If you’re part of a family, now you have the excuse to break out the holiday themed movies even though it’s March: Home Alone, The Santa Clause, Love Actually (which Actually is not for the kiddies, that would be if your family consists of you, your sweetie, and optional pet). For the more classically inclined adults though, this is the perfect time to curl up with a good book.
Add all ingredients in order, start no later than 12 noon, and enjoy!
I decided to finally read some Agatha Christie and started with one of her most famous books, “Murder on the Orient Express,” where I was first introduced to her beloved protagonist and detective, Hercule Poirot.
I’ve learned that is somewhat of a literary travesty – apparently M. Poirot is one of the most famous fictional detectives in the world, on par with the likes of Sherlock Holmes and Philip Marlowe. But I can’t remember ever hearing his name before I started reading “Murder on the Orient Express.” I think the reasons for this can be summed up in two points:
His absence from popular culture. Sherlock Holmes has, most recently, Robert Downey Jr., Benedict Cumberbatch, and even Hugh Laurie. Veronica Mars pays homage to both Nancy Drew and the gritty detectives of film noir. I’ve never seen any of “Murder, She Wrote,” but I know that Angela Lansbury – aka. the maid from “Gaslight,” aka. the original Mrs. Lovett, aka. Mrs. Potts from Disney’s “Beauty and the Beast” – starred in it and that I should marathon it eventually. But Hercule Poirot? It might be different in Britain, but he’s certainly missing from American pop culture. It’s Agatha Christie herself who seems to be the most familiar figure of her franchise; she had a life full of excitement and drama and even ‘guest-starred’ on a episode of Doctor Who.
My absence from literary culture. The entire above paragraph would be moot if I were still the avid reader I used to be. The amount of books I used to check out from the library at a single time would be the amount I could carry in my arms. I still read books, but mostly I read celebrity gossip blogs while streaming TV shows. It’s shameful. I want to be a bookworm again, which is why I decided to dive into some classic Agatha Christie in the first place. Only now I feel like I’ve come full circle by sliding in sideways.
In any case (pun unintended, I’m leaving it in), I find M. Poirot to be an interesting character. He’s fastidious, genre-savvy, a prime example of Obfuscating Stupidity, and very slightly badass. One conversation basically goes like this:
Man: You’re going to do a job for me, like it or not. Poirot: Yeah, I don’t think so. Man: And what makes you say that? Poirot: ‘CAUSE I DON’T LIKE YOUR FACE.
Next up: “The Mysterious Affair at Styles,” probably.