The other day, a friend online reminded me of the BBC miniseries North & South. Over the years, I have watched and rewatched those episodes many times, yet when she referenced the show, one memory came especially to mind. Now, since this post is all about the memories that the movie contains, I think I will start a new section of this blog for nostalgia posts. After all, this blog is just my own ramblings, no reason to pretend it is too intellectual for simple memories.
Without further ado, “Magical Movie Night:”
I was an American student studying in England, and some fellow students invited me to spend the evening at the common room of their dorm to watch North and South.
My darling friend, Hedgehog I’ll call her, made scones, while our lovely Walrus rushed around preparing the tea and gathering pillows for comfy movie watching. We even got a few male theology students to join us, as they felt they needed to learn more about this film that had us all in a twitter.
Now, this movie is not for the faint of heart, as it is four long hours. You must be prepared with supplies, like friends, knitting, and, most importantly, food.
The scones soon disappeared, so we ordered pizza (my first time ordering take away in the UK, as I am generally too cheap for that life). It also disappeared around the same time as The Fruit Basket appeared.
Some might ask why I keep referencing the Fruit Basket? It is because in the film Thornton gives a fruit basket to Margaret’s family when he is courting her, and it seems rather random. In the novel, you read of him spending a great deal of time thinking about the Fruit Basket and debating about whether he could find something romantic and sentimental he could say about the sensible and, for the time period, lavish gift, for Margaret since she thinks he is so practical and non sentimental. For some reason it has stuck in my head all these years as the epitome of Thornton’s balance between sentimental and practical decision making.
Anyways, I digress. The movie wore on into the night, our supplies dwindled, and I was taken to the midnight chip truck. Now, I do not usually stay up past 10 pm, and am, as aforementioned, a cheapskate, so I had never been to such a place. The lamp posts shining on the cobblestones of the old city, the smell of the chips, the friends bundled in scarves and indecisively dancing around, seemed magical that night.
Once more we returned to the fight, erm, film. Needless to say, we were all a blubbering mess at the ending, and, as we were all literature nerds, stayed up even longer discussing the influences of the time period and previous authors on Gaskell’s work.
I fell asleep snuggled in a nest on our Walrus’ floor. (My flatmates later called me a traitor for sleeping with the dorm students).
If you were wondering, Hedgehog, Walrus and I might not be on the same continent any more, but our tea time video chat sessions are still ongoing these several years later.