It is an undeniable fact that some woods are more alive than others. I should know, I have walked enough of them. Some woods, like this beech woods near Upper Enham, have a thickness to the air. Once you walk in, you feel yourself pass through some kind of invisible wall, safe in the liquid embrace of the life of the forest. There is an overwhelming sense of abundance and you hear something beyond the edge of sound. You cannot but be aware of the unseen energy of the forest. Feel it pushing up against your body, providing you with some essential thing you didn’t even know was missing. There is something undisturbed about some woods and in that peace, the trees swell out from themselves, filling the spaces between them with their spirit bodies. So when you walk—a quiet, slow walk of wonder—you come to know the life of the
I watched Darren Aronofsky’s The Whale last night. I had no idea what the film was about before watching it: I chose it simply because Samantha Morton is in it and because Aronofsky directed it. Be warned: this review has major spoilers. I should say off the bat that I generally like Aronofsky’s films, even if they are not always quite realised, and even though the endings sometimes seem rushed and weird, as The Whale’s did. That said, I found The Whale to be incredibly moving; it even brought me to tears a couple of times, which is a very rare occurrence. In sum, the film is about a reclusive, obese teacher who is attempting to reconnect with his estranged teenage daughter. I did some review reading after watching it, and I was surprised to see how many people hated the film and accused it of fat phobia. Whilst I agree that perhaps a genuinely