The unthinkable has happened: Gormenghast the mini-series isn’t doing it for me. In order to fully grasp the enormity of this statement, I direct you to T.Y. circa 2001. I was 16 and INSANELY IN LOVE with Gormenghast and Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I tapped the mini off PBS and would watch it EVERYDAY, sometimes twice a day until I had all the dialogue memorized and could re-enact every scene which I did…to myself.
There was the episode when I missed the opportunity to buy the book at B&N only to return the next day but Oh NO! Some other geek bought it so I bugged the clerk and he did a series of slow-mo internet searches only to tell me it’s out of print and I had the adolescent equivalent of a HEARTATTACK. But wait! He could order it from the publisher and I was wringing my hands “Please do!” So for months and beyond, I had B&N’s number on speed dial. Like a true stalker, I made sure to call them everyday while watching my worn out VHS and AOL searching Jonathan Rhys Meyers fansites.
I was prepared to go Captain Ahab in my quest for the complete Gormenghast experience. You may shake me by the shoulders: “This is madness!” To which I’ll reply: “This is FANDOM!”
In mid-November, the book came and I devoured it. Mervyn Peake never met an adjective or adverb he didn’t like. I loved it, or, rather, having invested so much energy in acquiring the book, I forced myself to love it. Suffice to say, this Gormenghast obsession went on for years and ended with a collection of Gormenghast related purchases and a pile of ink jet JRM print-outs taped to my dorm room.
The point to this little story is that I worshiped Gormenghast and everything it represented. There was a five year period in which I forgot all about it but last night I watched it again and IT WAS NOT AS GOOD AS I REMEMBERED. Sob! To salt the wound, it was actually…cheesy. For instance, I use to think every actor was the shit. Now I see that, with the exception of JRM (who also overacted), everybody gesticulated like mimes.
I am not what I use to be! My tastes have changed. Have I matured? I’m as bummed as a child who discovered that Santa isn’t real.
I don’t even need to mention how RENT the movie isn’t doing it for me either. When they sing 525,600 mins, I am…unmoved. I don’t even want to La Vie Bohemie anymore.
What has become of me?