Mr and Mrs Crawley

Maybe it's naive of me, but whenever I see portraits like this, with just a father and daughter, it restores my faith in humanity a little. Because people seem to love this idea that fathers never loved their daughters in the past and only saw them as bargaining chips for marriage or whatever, but look at the guy in the first portrait on the left, he loves that little girl! And the dad trying to do his work while his daughter bothers him with an Old Timey Barbie. The man teaching his daughter geography, his expression is so soft! The way the man in the last portrait holds the little girl's hand! And none of these are incidental, these aren't photographs, someone (probably the father) paid good money and sat down for hours so that they could have a painting of themselves and their daughter. Probably because they loved their daughter.

oh I love those! People being people is one of my favourite kinds of paintings and an important reminder that people in past times were not all that different. There were dads who loved their daughters fiercely. There were fathers who happily looked after their babies too. The German reformer Philip Melanchton for example had a cradle in his office. His wife was busy organising a household for 20 people- she was out and about, he mostly worked in his office, it made sense for him to look after their babies too babies while she dropped by at snack time.

I raise you:

I love this moment, not just because of the twist, but also because Marta has been dying the whole movie with not only fear and grief, but guilt at having caused the death of her patient, her friend.

I love Benoit Blanc in this scene so much. I mean, he’s a great character throughout the film, but this was the moment I thought, “I will watch as many movies about this character as Rian Johnson and Daniel Craig choose to make.” 

Exactly 250 years ago today, during a particularly harsh Hampshire winter, the seventh of eight children was born into the family of a local clergyman. The name of George and Cassandra's daughter was not officially recorded until the following April, owing to the conditions... but from this obscure start, she would grow up to become one of the most beloved authors of all time. So universally read, that her works have never been out of print; a phenomenally talented pioneer who, despite such scant formal education, used her incredible powers of observation and understanding of the various quirks of human nature to bring to life, as she sat at her twelve sided writing desk, a cast of captivating characters which continue to delight.