So, I just finished watching Spanglish...after a night of exsquisite beauty, the details of which will be given at private inquiry...annnnd I loved it. The reality of this post is that this is not my favourite method of recording something which I've so far deemed as worth, mostly because it's electronic, but I don't think I've thought it through enough for my journal, and who's kidding who, this thought will probably take its most articulate form by means of discussion and/or a good old Dowling rant.
But here's the thing that's great about Spanglish; it is an eloquent illustration of the differences between most upper-to-middle class North American woman and most other western woman. In most other cultures, let's just take Hispanic culture for example's sake, curves, personality, inidividualism which bleeds intellegence and humour, these are all supremely valued in the pursuit of a woman. At the moment I feel like concentrating on the curves aspect. What is it about North American culture that values similarity? Cookie-cutter pre-pubescent boy women? What is shameful about large breasts? or love handles? or huge thighs? These are the things that make women. They scream childbirth, grace, delicacy, LIFE. I know, I know, "bon, this is getting fairly freaking cliche and pretty stinking inarticulate" like I said it's not thought the whole way through. All I know, is there's a brilliant line in Spanglish. Wait, let me see if I can find it. Yea I have no idea. It was good though. I'll finish this later.