Hello Gentle Reader
The Nobel Prize for Literature for 2010 has been awarded too the Peruvian author, Mario Vargas Llosa. For the reason of:
"for his cartography of structures of power and his trenchant images of the individual's resistance, revolt, and defeat."
Congrulations to Mario Vargas Llosa, for winning The Nobel Prize in Literature.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Saturday, 18 September 2010
Skippy Dies by Paul Murray
Hello Gentle Reader
I have been sick for past few days. With a nasty cold. When I cough, something fly’s up my throat, and into my mouth. I spit it out, and there, in, the sink is a green blob of infectious or infected mucous that looks back at me. I can't help but turn the hot water on, and watch go down the drain. Makes me wonder what kind of war, is going on inside of my body. But to my relief, of being sick, and barely having the energy to eat -- seeing as my throat gets so soar -- and barely wanting to do anything at all, I found myself, reading and sleeping most of the time. In this time though I was able to read the six hundred and sixty page novel in three volumes called "Skippy Dies," by Paul Murray.
A comedic yet tragic novel, of growing up, and the growing pains of growing up, the novel certainly is something of extraordinary feats. The depiction of the mundane life, of the students, and even the teachers. The idea that even though we all had dreams at one point, sometimes our lives take the complete opposite direction then the one that we had hoped for. I mean honestly who would really want to become a teacher, and go back to their own school, and teach there? Who really wants to remain in the past, even in the present? Not many would say that, that is what they had planned for their life. Living in a suburb, that's power goes out because someone is building a science park next door, and then to go teach at the same all boys school that is falling apart, and your haunted by past events, and the nameless past nicknames.
The story really does show the inner life of school boys, and what really goes on in their minds. Obsessed with sex, and their own personal problems, and trying to act tough and cool, yet what lurks beneath them all is emotional problems, and real tender people, who are open to blows and attacks from others.
Throughout the story we are given a look inside the large ensemble of characters. We see how each one is connected to the other in some way or another. Howard the history teacher is connected to the boys, on the grounds that he used to go Seabrook, and knows all too well, the politics of the school, as well as what it means to go to the school. If going to the school means anything, at all.
The novel, is an interesting story. As I sit here, trying to explain it to myself, I find myself unable to. In fact to say that Daniel “Skippy,” Juster was the main character feels a bit like a stretch. I mean he was the main character, but he never did seem to say much about anything. In fact, his unknown malaise to us, and his inability to connect with others, appears to come from his father, and family, who appear to be people emotionally cut off from each other, in order to keep up the façade that they are a good old happy family. When in reality that they are not, when the mother is dying of cancer. A poison that is raving her body from head to toe.
The scientific theory called “M-Theory,” plays a part in the novel as well, from the plump pudgy character and questionable genius Ruprecht Van Doren, who is a friend and roommate of Daniel “Skippy,” Juster. The “M-Theory,” is a way that for me or in my observation, that Ruprecht can feel special or hope that there is another universe in which he can be respected in. Yet it appears, that Ruprecht logical mind is put to the test when grief, is placed on his platter, and he is forced deal with Skippy’s death. When everything is suddenly turned away and around Ruprecht will try and contact Skippy and use the “M-Theory,” as justification as the need for doing so, and possibility that he can contact Skippy. In most terms however, everyone knows, Ruprecht will fail, and most just go along with the idea, just to simply watch him fall flat on his face, making others snicker and laugh at the supposed geniuses plans, showing that he nothing more than a normal person. Nothing more and nothing less. Yet Ruprecht science fictional ideas just keep moving forward, and his ability to cease giving up, makes him a tragic character. Because his love science, his arrogance lack of ability to actually understand life, in its simple format, and to see that life is not just made of laws of physics and “M-Theory,” and atoms and particles, and really life is just simple, in its terms that you live and die. Ruprecht unable to comprehend this, and un able to accept this, only sets himself up for more and more failure, to the point that you only expect him to fail, and say “good for it, you deserve to fail. You can’t accept the inevitable, then so be it.” Which makes it hard (for a person like myself to sympathize with Ruprecht)
Throughout the entire life story, we watch the characters fall to pieces. The entire novel truly shows the authors ability to show the hopelessness of life, and its humour and also shows us, just how much everyone is hiding on the inside. How we are all, secretly on the verge of mental breakdowns, cheating on the people we love, suicide, and watching our entire world falling apart around us. The author Paul Murray shows us in his novel “Skippy Dies,” just how futile life can be, and also how nasty people are. When people try to cover up scandalous affairs for the good of the many, rather than facing the justice and consequences that come with all our actions, Paul Murray is showing us all that no matter what. There is a deep hopelessness, and irony to our lives, but also a sense of hope. Surely one can see that we should not envy those, that looks happier or more beautiful or smarter than us. Because it appears that their worlds themselves are falling apart around them, and their entire inner world is plagued by a malaise. When the world around us is falling apart, there appears to be no more reason to live, we all find a reason to live, and just move. When your hand is in the fire, just pull it out, one could say.
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
Take care Gentle Reader
And Remember to always stay Well Read.
M.Mary
I have been sick for past few days. With a nasty cold. When I cough, something fly’s up my throat, and into my mouth. I spit it out, and there, in, the sink is a green blob of infectious or infected mucous that looks back at me. I can't help but turn the hot water on, and watch go down the drain. Makes me wonder what kind of war, is going on inside of my body. But to my relief, of being sick, and barely having the energy to eat -- seeing as my throat gets so soar -- and barely wanting to do anything at all, I found myself, reading and sleeping most of the time. In this time though I was able to read the six hundred and sixty page novel in three volumes called "Skippy Dies," by Paul Murray.
A comedic yet tragic novel, of growing up, and the growing pains of growing up, the novel certainly is something of extraordinary feats. The depiction of the mundane life, of the students, and even the teachers. The idea that even though we all had dreams at one point, sometimes our lives take the complete opposite direction then the one that we had hoped for. I mean honestly who would really want to become a teacher, and go back to their own school, and teach there? Who really wants to remain in the past, even in the present? Not many would say that, that is what they had planned for their life. Living in a suburb, that's power goes out because someone is building a science park next door, and then to go teach at the same all boys school that is falling apart, and your haunted by past events, and the nameless past nicknames.
The story really does show the inner life of school boys, and what really goes on in their minds. Obsessed with sex, and their own personal problems, and trying to act tough and cool, yet what lurks beneath them all is emotional problems, and real tender people, who are open to blows and attacks from others.
Throughout the story we are given a look inside the large ensemble of characters. We see how each one is connected to the other in some way or another. Howard the history teacher is connected to the boys, on the grounds that he used to go Seabrook, and knows all too well, the politics of the school, as well as what it means to go to the school. If going to the school means anything, at all.
The novel, is an interesting story. As I sit here, trying to explain it to myself, I find myself unable to. In fact to say that Daniel “Skippy,” Juster was the main character feels a bit like a stretch. I mean he was the main character, but he never did seem to say much about anything. In fact, his unknown malaise to us, and his inability to connect with others, appears to come from his father, and family, who appear to be people emotionally cut off from each other, in order to keep up the façade that they are a good old happy family. When in reality that they are not, when the mother is dying of cancer. A poison that is raving her body from head to toe.
The scientific theory called “M-Theory,” plays a part in the novel as well, from the plump pudgy character and questionable genius Ruprecht Van Doren, who is a friend and roommate of Daniel “Skippy,” Juster. The “M-Theory,” is a way that for me or in my observation, that Ruprecht can feel special or hope that there is another universe in which he can be respected in. Yet it appears, that Ruprecht logical mind is put to the test when grief, is placed on his platter, and he is forced deal with Skippy’s death. When everything is suddenly turned away and around Ruprecht will try and contact Skippy and use the “M-Theory,” as justification as the need for doing so, and possibility that he can contact Skippy. In most terms however, everyone knows, Ruprecht will fail, and most just go along with the idea, just to simply watch him fall flat on his face, making others snicker and laugh at the supposed geniuses plans, showing that he nothing more than a normal person. Nothing more and nothing less. Yet Ruprecht science fictional ideas just keep moving forward, and his ability to cease giving up, makes him a tragic character. Because his love science, his arrogance lack of ability to actually understand life, in its simple format, and to see that life is not just made of laws of physics and “M-Theory,” and atoms and particles, and really life is just simple, in its terms that you live and die. Ruprecht unable to comprehend this, and un able to accept this, only sets himself up for more and more failure, to the point that you only expect him to fail, and say “good for it, you deserve to fail. You can’t accept the inevitable, then so be it.” Which makes it hard (for a person like myself to sympathize with Ruprecht)
Throughout the entire life story, we watch the characters fall to pieces. The entire novel truly shows the authors ability to show the hopelessness of life, and its humour and also shows us, just how much everyone is hiding on the inside. How we are all, secretly on the verge of mental breakdowns, cheating on the people we love, suicide, and watching our entire world falling apart around us. The author Paul Murray shows us in his novel “Skippy Dies,” just how futile life can be, and also how nasty people are. When people try to cover up scandalous affairs for the good of the many, rather than facing the justice and consequences that come with all our actions, Paul Murray is showing us all that no matter what. There is a deep hopelessness, and irony to our lives, but also a sense of hope. Surely one can see that we should not envy those, that looks happier or more beautiful or smarter than us. Because it appears that their worlds themselves are falling apart around them, and their entire inner world is plagued by a malaise. When the world around us is falling apart, there appears to be no more reason to live, we all find a reason to live, and just move. When your hand is in the fire, just pull it out, one could say.
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
Take care Gentle Reader
And Remember to always stay Well Read.
M.Mary
Thursday, 9 September 2010
The 2010 Booker Prize Shortlist
Hello Gentle Reader
When I read the 2010 Booker Prize Long list, in August I was excited to see David Mitchell's new novel "The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet," on the list, I found myself hoping that now was going to be the year that David Mitchell won the Booker Prize. So of course before the Booker Prize stamp for winner or shortlist, was placed on it, I went out and bought along with the other two books that I thought had a chance of winning the Booker Prize. The other two books are "Skippy Dies," by Paul Murray which I am reading now, and "C," by Tom McCarthy.
Others on the 2010 Booker Prize Long list are:
Peter Carey: "Parrot and Olivier in America."
Emma Donoghue: "Room."
Helen Dunmore: "The Betrayal."
Damon Galgut: "In a Strange Room."
Howard Jacobson: "The Finkler Question."
Andrea Levy: "The Long Song."
Lisa Moore: "February."
Rose Tremain: "Trespass."
Christos Tsiolkas: "The Slap."
Alan Warner: "The Stars in the Bright Sky."
yet the Shortlist omits two of the three books, that I had hoped would be on the Shortlist, and hopefully one would win. It appears that Paul Murray, and David Mitchell were omitted, from the shortlist while Tom McCarthy and his experimental/modernist inspired novel "C," would go on to make it to the shortlist.
The Shortlist is the following:
Tom McCarthy: "C."
Peter Carey: "Parrot and Olivier in America."
Emma Donoghue: "Room."
Damon Galgut: "In a Strange Room."
Howard Jacobson: "The Finkler Question."
Andrea Levy: "The Long Song."
I think the real piss off here, is that Peter Carey is shortlisted once again. For those who do not know, Peter Carey is one of the only two novelists to have won the Booker Prize twice. The other being Nobel Laureate in Literature JM Coetzee. What really grinds the teeth here, is that Peter Carey is an exceptional novelist, and a great writer, however, I think, that him being shortlisted once again for the Booker Prize -- and even if he does win it -- kind of ruins the whole prize itself. That’s just my opinion of course. Winning twice whatever, winning three times is fine, but I question the idea of what about new novelists, who are exceptional and great, and are not given a chance next to these great writers like Peter Carey, JM Coetzee, and others. I think it’s a bit disgusting that they are not always given a chance, to further themselves in the literary world, when everyone pays attention to the great writers of today. That to me shows the literary world is a bit uptight, in the way that it won’t recognize new talent, it only wishes to see, grand writers, getting better. If there is no room for new writers, to have a chance to win prizes, and further show off their extraordinary talent, because they loose to already popular writers like Peter Carey, and JM Coetzee, and others, then the Prize looses somewhat of its worth and credibility because it becomes stuck up and a gentleman's club.
Great novelists come from all walks of life. Many great writers never did win the Booker Prize. Beryl Bainbridge and Nobel Laureate in Literature Doris Lessing never won the Booker Prize but were Shortlisted many times. There fiction is anything but less then authors who have won the Booker Prize. In my opinion I think the Booker Prize has made some grand mistakes, and has also redeemed itself as well. Though still, at the moment the Booker Prize feels like a gentleman's club for Literary Grand Writers; and refuses to recognize younger writers, and other writers who are exceptionally well, and are not well known.
"Simon Burke of Waterstone's tipped C to take the prize, calling it "a challenging yet dazzling novel", adding: "The news that David Mitchell has not made the shortlist will cause gnashing of teeth across the book world, but perhaps is a useful reminder of the independence and unpredictability of the Booker. This is still a hugely varied and exciting list. Our money is on Tom McCarthy. The more people that read [C] the better."'
I would not say that The Booker Prize, is independent or unpredictable. It appears like, if JM Coetzee or Peter Carey writes a new book, its always ending up nominated or shortlisted (and perhaps winning) the Booker Prize. That’s not unpredictable to me, that just appears repetitive, and taking an easy way out, by picking a great novelist, rather then taking a chance on another novelist.
Here is hoping though that the winner of the Booker Prize of 2010 is deserving of it. Not saying that Peter Carey is not deserving, but at the same time, its about time he moves over for the prize to be awarded to a new novelist.
I am hoping that Tom McCarthy's "C," wins, and that a lot of people will read the novel.
It still seems like a pity that David Mitchell did not get shortlisted, but there is always next year and the year after that.
Take Care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
and as always:
Stay Well Read
M.Mary
When I read the 2010 Booker Prize Long list, in August I was excited to see David Mitchell's new novel "The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet," on the list, I found myself hoping that now was going to be the year that David Mitchell won the Booker Prize. So of course before the Booker Prize stamp for winner or shortlist, was placed on it, I went out and bought along with the other two books that I thought had a chance of winning the Booker Prize. The other two books are "Skippy Dies," by Paul Murray which I am reading now, and "C," by Tom McCarthy.
Others on the 2010 Booker Prize Long list are:
Peter Carey: "Parrot and Olivier in America."
Emma Donoghue: "Room."
Helen Dunmore: "The Betrayal."
Damon Galgut: "In a Strange Room."
Howard Jacobson: "The Finkler Question."
Andrea Levy: "The Long Song."
Lisa Moore: "February."
Rose Tremain: "Trespass."
Christos Tsiolkas: "The Slap."
Alan Warner: "The Stars in the Bright Sky."
yet the Shortlist omits two of the three books, that I had hoped would be on the Shortlist, and hopefully one would win. It appears that Paul Murray, and David Mitchell were omitted, from the shortlist while Tom McCarthy and his experimental/modernist inspired novel "C," would go on to make it to the shortlist.
The Shortlist is the following:
Tom McCarthy: "C."
Peter Carey: "Parrot and Olivier in America."
Emma Donoghue: "Room."
Damon Galgut: "In a Strange Room."
Howard Jacobson: "The Finkler Question."
Andrea Levy: "The Long Song."
I think the real piss off here, is that Peter Carey is shortlisted once again. For those who do not know, Peter Carey is one of the only two novelists to have won the Booker Prize twice. The other being Nobel Laureate in Literature JM Coetzee. What really grinds the teeth here, is that Peter Carey is an exceptional novelist, and a great writer, however, I think, that him being shortlisted once again for the Booker Prize -- and even if he does win it -- kind of ruins the whole prize itself. That’s just my opinion of course. Winning twice whatever, winning three times is fine, but I question the idea of what about new novelists, who are exceptional and great, and are not given a chance next to these great writers like Peter Carey, JM Coetzee, and others. I think it’s a bit disgusting that they are not always given a chance, to further themselves in the literary world, when everyone pays attention to the great writers of today. That to me shows the literary world is a bit uptight, in the way that it won’t recognize new talent, it only wishes to see, grand writers, getting better. If there is no room for new writers, to have a chance to win prizes, and further show off their extraordinary talent, because they loose to already popular writers like Peter Carey, and JM Coetzee, and others, then the Prize looses somewhat of its worth and credibility because it becomes stuck up and a gentleman's club.
Great novelists come from all walks of life. Many great writers never did win the Booker Prize. Beryl Bainbridge and Nobel Laureate in Literature Doris Lessing never won the Booker Prize but were Shortlisted many times. There fiction is anything but less then authors who have won the Booker Prize. In my opinion I think the Booker Prize has made some grand mistakes, and has also redeemed itself as well. Though still, at the moment the Booker Prize feels like a gentleman's club for Literary Grand Writers; and refuses to recognize younger writers, and other writers who are exceptionally well, and are not well known.
"Simon Burke of Waterstone's tipped C to take the prize, calling it "a challenging yet dazzling novel", adding: "The news that David Mitchell has not made the shortlist will cause gnashing of teeth across the book world, but perhaps is a useful reminder of the independence and unpredictability of the Booker. This is still a hugely varied and exciting list. Our money is on Tom McCarthy. The more people that read [C] the better."'
I would not say that The Booker Prize, is independent or unpredictable. It appears like, if JM Coetzee or Peter Carey writes a new book, its always ending up nominated or shortlisted (and perhaps winning) the Booker Prize. That’s not unpredictable to me, that just appears repetitive, and taking an easy way out, by picking a great novelist, rather then taking a chance on another novelist.
Here is hoping though that the winner of the Booker Prize of 2010 is deserving of it. Not saying that Peter Carey is not deserving, but at the same time, its about time he moves over for the prize to be awarded to a new novelist.
I am hoping that Tom McCarthy's "C," wins, and that a lot of people will read the novel.
It still seems like a pity that David Mitchell did not get shortlisted, but there is always next year and the year after that.
Take Care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
and as always:
Stay Well Read
M.Mary
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
Teatro Grottesco by Thomas Ligotti
Hello Gentle Reader
I have finished reading my first, short collection of short stories, by the master of horror that is not horror but is considered horror, in an entirely new different form. Thomas Ligotti, the master of nightmares, the absurdity and poppycock, of life and existence, shows the very fear of the human condition.
One thing that I can surely say about Thomas Ligotti, is that he does not sit around and waste his time, with describing, bodily disfiguration or mutilation. Thomas Ligotti, does not waste his time, with describing anything in to a gory detail, that we can pretty much see every single blood cell in a pool of blood. In fact, the way that Thomas Ligotti, presents some of the situations is almost normal, and is not shocking at all, not even unsettling, just makes you read along. To say the least, Thomas Ligotti is not going to waste his time, with simple Hollywood shock tactics. Thomas Ligotti doesn't even waste his time, by making the plot move along via any chasing after any thing or anyone. In fact Thomas Ligotti, just lets his work flow from the characters point of view. The rants, the idea's, and the arguments that are presented with Thomas Ligotti's work, is just his own. Some say that he reminds them of Edgar Allan Poe, and H.P. Lovecraft.
I can see where some people, see the Poe influence and the Lovecraft influence as well. However I also some influence from Franz Kafka and if i may say what i say, i also see some influence from Thomas Bernhard. The way Thomas Ligotti is rather disturbing. Its hard to relate to the characters sometimes -- and sometimes its appears impossible, which is fine by me.
If a person is looking for a coherent all tied up and neatly decorated ending with Thomas Ligotti's work, I would suggest look elsewhere. For nothing is ever truly answered, and even there was an answer there would be more questions after that answer. Rather than Thomas Ligotti, wasting his time, answering every detailed question regarding, the questions that are not answered in his work, he allows the reader to come up with their own possibilities. Much as literature, should.
Thomas Ligotti does have amazing descriptive power, though. In the short story titled "The Clown Puppet," he describes the face of the clown puppet with fluid, and harshness of the narrators, voice.
from "The Clown Puppet," taken from "Teatro Grottesco," by Thomas Ligotti:
“Its expressiveness was all in that face with its pale and pitted complexion, its slightly pointed nose and delicate lips, and its dead puppet eyes — eyes that did not seem able to fix or focus themselves upon anything but only gazed with an unchanging expression of dreamy malignance, an utterly nonsensical expression of stupid viciousness and cruelty.”
Its not meant to be unsettling as it is to describe the almost horrifying aspect of the clown. How its eyes, show no life, yet has all the workings of a regular human face.
Thomas Ligotti, surely does describe the nonsensical life, and existence of mankind. When one person may happily filling paper, or doing a job, that they find great meaning in, Thomas Ligotti, rips that shroud away and we just see the meaningless and absurdity that life has become of the human race. Our supposedly meaningful jobs, that present themselves with great, wonder, and awe, and a sense of purpose for the person doing the task, Thomas Ligotti, shows us the inner workings of this. Thomas Ligotti, is merely saying that this nothing more then mechanical working. An illusion that we are just doing for the sake of doing it. Something we are forcing ourselves to do because we are told do it, because it is good, and that we have to do because its what puts food on the table. With this kind of thinking, we fool ourselves into doing these jobs because that’s the way it is to be done. However, Thomas Ligotti, looks at this and laughs. He describes these tasks, and nothing more then a waste of time, and life, and is just something to keep the boredom and pointlessness, of existence at bay. Even though the task itself is pointless.
If a person is going to pick this collection of short stories up, and think that this book is just going to give them some violent action, and show them dancing skeletons and woman running around with the tops off, screaming manically, I would laugh at them.
Thomas Ligotti, is not going to waste his time, with the rather cliché and pathetic tactics of Hollywood Horror. In fact, Thomas Ligotti's beautiful, and macabre prose, require concentration, and deep thinking, and even then you may not understand what is trying to be said, but Mr. Thomas Ligotti is not going to waste your time, with simple, thinking. In fact Thomas Ligotti, is merely giving you the props to creature your own meaning -- even though it may as well be as pointless as existing itself.
Some may look at this work of fiction and call it Nihilism. But it appears far from the truth. Thomas Ligotti is not a nihilist from what I can see. But rather an observer who is looking at the world, from his unblended eyes, and see's a world of meaningless and pointless random events that just happen to happen. Rather than looking for meaning, and performing experiments, and declaring its divine intervention, Thomas Ligotti just walks away from and accepts it as it is. There is no need to look for anything that is not there, as far as Mr. Ligotti is concerned. In fact, Mr. Ligotti, just accepts what is or was happening, as what it is. Mr. Ligotti, accepts a falling meteorite, as a simple falling rock from the sky. There is nothing to other than that. When a friend comes to knock on the door to talk about "Gas Station Carnivals," or another talks about creepy spider like creatures that have a human head, Thomas Ligotti, just accepts it as a random occurrence.
However Mr. Ligotti, also is quick to point out, other true facts of life. There are some people in the world, that we as human beings give them the power to control and even influence our lives. Funny thing is, we are not sure that they are there at all. We have no idea who or what they are, or even if they take a shape. Some days they appear to hide in an office, sending strange messages on paper down a street. Other times, they are a company that owns the doctors, and prescribes medications for your fears, so you can function in day to day life. Yet the characters are not sure who they are, and how they got this influence or power, but they don't appear to question it that much, but at the same time, they sometimes wonder. Even though the world is pointless, and meaningless, with random occurrences, Mr. Ligotti, also shows us, our own godlike power, that we can have over our fellow mankind.
Again this is not your typical horror. Mr. Ligotti, has gone back to the roots of horror, and is not going to waste his time, with simple shock techniques. Mr. Ligotti is going to make you think, scratch your head, re-read, and just wonder what the hell is going on. A true genius of horror. Though a real pity that he is so underappreciated.
Take Care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for Reading.
Stay Well Read
M.Mary
I have finished reading my first, short collection of short stories, by the master of horror that is not horror but is considered horror, in an entirely new different form. Thomas Ligotti, the master of nightmares, the absurdity and poppycock, of life and existence, shows the very fear of the human condition.
One thing that I can surely say about Thomas Ligotti, is that he does not sit around and waste his time, with describing, bodily disfiguration or mutilation. Thomas Ligotti, does not waste his time, with describing anything in to a gory detail, that we can pretty much see every single blood cell in a pool of blood. In fact, the way that Thomas Ligotti, presents some of the situations is almost normal, and is not shocking at all, not even unsettling, just makes you read along. To say the least, Thomas Ligotti is not going to waste his time, with simple Hollywood shock tactics. Thomas Ligotti doesn't even waste his time, by making the plot move along via any chasing after any thing or anyone. In fact Thomas Ligotti, just lets his work flow from the characters point of view. The rants, the idea's, and the arguments that are presented with Thomas Ligotti's work, is just his own. Some say that he reminds them of Edgar Allan Poe, and H.P. Lovecraft.
I can see where some people, see the Poe influence and the Lovecraft influence as well. However I also some influence from Franz Kafka and if i may say what i say, i also see some influence from Thomas Bernhard. The way Thomas Ligotti is rather disturbing. Its hard to relate to the characters sometimes -- and sometimes its appears impossible, which is fine by me.
If a person is looking for a coherent all tied up and neatly decorated ending with Thomas Ligotti's work, I would suggest look elsewhere. For nothing is ever truly answered, and even there was an answer there would be more questions after that answer. Rather than Thomas Ligotti, wasting his time, answering every detailed question regarding, the questions that are not answered in his work, he allows the reader to come up with their own possibilities. Much as literature, should.
Thomas Ligotti does have amazing descriptive power, though. In the short story titled "The Clown Puppet," he describes the face of the clown puppet with fluid, and harshness of the narrators, voice.
from "The Clown Puppet," taken from "Teatro Grottesco," by Thomas Ligotti:
“Its expressiveness was all in that face with its pale and pitted complexion, its slightly pointed nose and delicate lips, and its dead puppet eyes — eyes that did not seem able to fix or focus themselves upon anything but only gazed with an unchanging expression of dreamy malignance, an utterly nonsensical expression of stupid viciousness and cruelty.”
Its not meant to be unsettling as it is to describe the almost horrifying aspect of the clown. How its eyes, show no life, yet has all the workings of a regular human face.
Thomas Ligotti, surely does describe the nonsensical life, and existence of mankind. When one person may happily filling paper, or doing a job, that they find great meaning in, Thomas Ligotti, rips that shroud away and we just see the meaningless and absurdity that life has become of the human race. Our supposedly meaningful jobs, that present themselves with great, wonder, and awe, and a sense of purpose for the person doing the task, Thomas Ligotti, shows us the inner workings of this. Thomas Ligotti, is merely saying that this nothing more then mechanical working. An illusion that we are just doing for the sake of doing it. Something we are forcing ourselves to do because we are told do it, because it is good, and that we have to do because its what puts food on the table. With this kind of thinking, we fool ourselves into doing these jobs because that’s the way it is to be done. However, Thomas Ligotti, looks at this and laughs. He describes these tasks, and nothing more then a waste of time, and life, and is just something to keep the boredom and pointlessness, of existence at bay. Even though the task itself is pointless.
If a person is going to pick this collection of short stories up, and think that this book is just going to give them some violent action, and show them dancing skeletons and woman running around with the tops off, screaming manically, I would laugh at them.
Thomas Ligotti, is not going to waste his time, with the rather cliché and pathetic tactics of Hollywood Horror. In fact, Thomas Ligotti's beautiful, and macabre prose, require concentration, and deep thinking, and even then you may not understand what is trying to be said, but Mr. Thomas Ligotti is not going to waste your time, with simple, thinking. In fact Thomas Ligotti, is merely giving you the props to creature your own meaning -- even though it may as well be as pointless as existing itself.
Some may look at this work of fiction and call it Nihilism. But it appears far from the truth. Thomas Ligotti is not a nihilist from what I can see. But rather an observer who is looking at the world, from his unblended eyes, and see's a world of meaningless and pointless random events that just happen to happen. Rather than looking for meaning, and performing experiments, and declaring its divine intervention, Thomas Ligotti just walks away from and accepts it as it is. There is no need to look for anything that is not there, as far as Mr. Ligotti is concerned. In fact, Mr. Ligotti, just accepts what is or was happening, as what it is. Mr. Ligotti, accepts a falling meteorite, as a simple falling rock from the sky. There is nothing to other than that. When a friend comes to knock on the door to talk about "Gas Station Carnivals," or another talks about creepy spider like creatures that have a human head, Thomas Ligotti, just accepts it as a random occurrence.
However Mr. Ligotti, also is quick to point out, other true facts of life. There are some people in the world, that we as human beings give them the power to control and even influence our lives. Funny thing is, we are not sure that they are there at all. We have no idea who or what they are, or even if they take a shape. Some days they appear to hide in an office, sending strange messages on paper down a street. Other times, they are a company that owns the doctors, and prescribes medications for your fears, so you can function in day to day life. Yet the characters are not sure who they are, and how they got this influence or power, but they don't appear to question it that much, but at the same time, they sometimes wonder. Even though the world is pointless, and meaningless, with random occurrences, Mr. Ligotti, also shows us, our own godlike power, that we can have over our fellow mankind.
Again this is not your typical horror. Mr. Ligotti, has gone back to the roots of horror, and is not going to waste his time, with simple shock techniques. Mr. Ligotti is going to make you think, scratch your head, re-read, and just wonder what the hell is going on. A true genius of horror. Though a real pity that he is so underappreciated.
Take Care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for Reading.
Stay Well Read
M.Mary
Friday, 20 August 2010
Cloud Atlas
Hello Gentle Reader
Recently (more precisely about six minutes before i wrote this blog) i had finished my first David Mitchell novel. The novel? His most well known novel: "Cloud Atlas.". "Cloud Atlas," was short listed for the Booker Prize in 2004. One of his other novels "Number9Dream," was also shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2001. His recent novel "The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet," has so far been long listed for the 2010 booker prize. (I would like to buy this book after I make some money. For a few reasons. I do not have a lot of hard cover books. I love the way David Mitchell writes. As well as David Mitchell, has a extraordinary blend of style as well as story telling. Balancing the two out.
"Cloud Atlas," is a rather interesting read. I was well aware that it was six different view points (or stories) connected together, and each one was written in a different style. When i first opened the book, and start reading, I am faced with a "epistolary story (novel)." Of course I roll my eyes, but am not going to be discouraged, and keep reading. I get the through that one. Though while reading it felt like complete agony sometimes, because I truly dislike that kind of writing style. Hoping for something better in the next story (because for the first part this book is like a box of chocolates, your just not sure what you are going to get.) -- will come along i keep reading. Yet again its another "epistolary story (novel)," which makes me grumble. I get through that one as quick as I can.
Next I am in the fast paced, action packed, story of Luisa Rey. I quite enjoyed this one. I found it both fascinating and to be a really fun read. Though after reading it I felt like a dietician who had just went into McDonalds and ate the greasiest amount of food he/she could have. Why you may ask? Because Literary Fiction is not always plot orientated and action packed, and always a fun read. I consider myself a Literary Fiction junkie, and well after treating myself, and feeling good about it -- well I felt kind of guilty (in a pleasurable kind of way). But that does strike a cord with me because, it shows to me that literary fiction doesn't always tell a story but rather is just style, and can be rather boring, and bore the reader into picking up something less better written, but more entertaining. There I think, Literary Fiction has a dilemma. However I still must admit that I enjoyed reading the fast paced, action packed story.
Probably my most favourite story of them all is "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish." It’s just comedic and backwards, and wrong, and is just a nice read. I enjoyed the fact that the character is stubborn, and head strong. I also enjoy the often off beat sense of humour that pops up in places. It’s not overblown, or exaggerated. It’s just there, to make you have a chuckle, and have a laugh. Which to me is what good comedy is. Laugh after laugh, after laugh, after laugh, is just . . . well boring. A laugh is only good so many times. So this story, of circumstances gone wrong, and the nightmarish hell of a nursing home, and old people gone wild (not in the sexual sense) is truly quite funny. It was interesting to see the character more or less stripped of all his dignity et cetera, and then just thrown down on the ground like nothing. Treated like a child. Perhaps the way that the elderly and senior citizens is just abruptly painful and disgusting. They are human, and deserve a sense of respect, not to be talked down to like a pet or a dog. Still however, watching Timothy go toe to toe with the staff of the nursing home, is just funny. Though he's the one that often ends up down on the ground like a beaten down dog. Still his persistence is admirable and admirable.
The next tale is set in a futuristic world. Written in a style of a interview between what I first thought was a android who had committed some crime, and a man who the reader simply knows as the "Archivist." So as we go through this tale we learn that this creature is not a android or robot, but rather a clone. Clones in this world that is called a "Corpocracy," are simply made for the simple reason, to do the jobs that people who are "pureblood," (a pureblood would be a person such as you or myself gentle reader) would rather not do. However something’s are left . . . unknown to the reader about this world, which is fine and dandy. I consider myself a detailed orientated person, I allowed myself to continue on with this story. Our clone who has committed some crime that we do not know of, is telling her story and how she has become so smart, et cetera, and is telling the interviewer about the cruelty that the clones "fabricants," are put through. Several times we can see the unbridled paranoia of people or "purebloods," and their unjustified prejudices take place, in the most horrible ways, and yet are not looked down upon. As the reader, we ourselves are struck by this horror, but the people that commit them, are not. Towards the end, we can truly see that the human or "purebloods," desire of hedonistic and lazy living has come at a rather cruel, ironic, and disgusting truth.
The last story and probably one that i do not as like as much as the three middle ones, is about a boy named Zachary as he tells his story. It had the potential to be such a great read, it truly did. The story was there, its interesting and captivating, but (there is always a but) it just felt wrong. The way that it was presented, just crawled under my skin like some parasitic bug crawls under a dead corpses skin, and began to itch to the point where i could not take it anymore. Perhaps it’s not even the way it was written. No actually that is wrong. David Mitchell is a very good author, so I apologize for being misleading. Its the language i guess. The extensive use of apostrophe's to make a rather fascinating and interesting sounding language, and to really make the character appear unique drove me mad. I know there are people out there, that go nuts for the use of such dialect and writing. There are people out there though as well that can read "Finnegan’s Wake," without actually sitting there scratching their head and going "huh?" or "what the fuck is this about? this makes no sense!" so in reality different tastes for us all. The language that Zachary uses just could not -- or rather would not grow on me. I could not get into it, and I could not help but bitching in my head about how much I disliked it. I said it before though. The potential of a great story is there -- no there is no potential, the great story is there. The reader just needs to get past the language in order to go through with it, and to see the story for its worth. I must admit I could not, but I know others out there certainly can and will. Those readers will certainly enjoy the story of Zachary more then I was able to.
My first read of David Mitchell, has been successful and enjoyable. I will most certainly read more fiction by David Mitchell. Maybe after I accumulate up a bit of money I can go out and buy his new novel in hardcover. Though $32.00 i tell myself is a hell of a lot to pay. But i guess to own a few hard covers, and enjoy the story you do what you have to do. I certainly look forward to seeing more of what Mr. David Mitchell pops out. I would also like to give his traditional "coming of age," novel "Black Swan Green," a try as well. I think its underappreciated by many people, and I do think it would make for a compelling read, from his post-modern narrative techniques.
Thank-You For Reading Gentle Reader
Stay Well Read
Take Care
M.Mary
Recently (more precisely about six minutes before i wrote this blog) i had finished my first David Mitchell novel. The novel? His most well known novel: "Cloud Atlas.". "Cloud Atlas," was short listed for the Booker Prize in 2004. One of his other novels "Number9Dream," was also shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2001. His recent novel "The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet," has so far been long listed for the 2010 booker prize. (I would like to buy this book after I make some money. For a few reasons. I do not have a lot of hard cover books. I love the way David Mitchell writes. As well as David Mitchell, has a extraordinary blend of style as well as story telling. Balancing the two out.
"Cloud Atlas," is a rather interesting read. I was well aware that it was six different view points (or stories) connected together, and each one was written in a different style. When i first opened the book, and start reading, I am faced with a "epistolary story (novel)." Of course I roll my eyes, but am not going to be discouraged, and keep reading. I get the through that one. Though while reading it felt like complete agony sometimes, because I truly dislike that kind of writing style. Hoping for something better in the next story (because for the first part this book is like a box of chocolates, your just not sure what you are going to get.) -- will come along i keep reading. Yet again its another "epistolary story (novel)," which makes me grumble. I get through that one as quick as I can.
Next I am in the fast paced, action packed, story of Luisa Rey. I quite enjoyed this one. I found it both fascinating and to be a really fun read. Though after reading it I felt like a dietician who had just went into McDonalds and ate the greasiest amount of food he/she could have. Why you may ask? Because Literary Fiction is not always plot orientated and action packed, and always a fun read. I consider myself a Literary Fiction junkie, and well after treating myself, and feeling good about it -- well I felt kind of guilty (in a pleasurable kind of way). But that does strike a cord with me because, it shows to me that literary fiction doesn't always tell a story but rather is just style, and can be rather boring, and bore the reader into picking up something less better written, but more entertaining. There I think, Literary Fiction has a dilemma. However I still must admit that I enjoyed reading the fast paced, action packed story.
Probably my most favourite story of them all is "The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish." It’s just comedic and backwards, and wrong, and is just a nice read. I enjoyed the fact that the character is stubborn, and head strong. I also enjoy the often off beat sense of humour that pops up in places. It’s not overblown, or exaggerated. It’s just there, to make you have a chuckle, and have a laugh. Which to me is what good comedy is. Laugh after laugh, after laugh, after laugh, is just . . . well boring. A laugh is only good so many times. So this story, of circumstances gone wrong, and the nightmarish hell of a nursing home, and old people gone wild (not in the sexual sense) is truly quite funny. It was interesting to see the character more or less stripped of all his dignity et cetera, and then just thrown down on the ground like nothing. Treated like a child. Perhaps the way that the elderly and senior citizens is just abruptly painful and disgusting. They are human, and deserve a sense of respect, not to be talked down to like a pet or a dog. Still however, watching Timothy go toe to toe with the staff of the nursing home, is just funny. Though he's the one that often ends up down on the ground like a beaten down dog. Still his persistence is admirable and admirable.
The next tale is set in a futuristic world. Written in a style of a interview between what I first thought was a android who had committed some crime, and a man who the reader simply knows as the "Archivist." So as we go through this tale we learn that this creature is not a android or robot, but rather a clone. Clones in this world that is called a "Corpocracy," are simply made for the simple reason, to do the jobs that people who are "pureblood," (a pureblood would be a person such as you or myself gentle reader) would rather not do. However something’s are left . . . unknown to the reader about this world, which is fine and dandy. I consider myself a detailed orientated person, I allowed myself to continue on with this story. Our clone who has committed some crime that we do not know of, is telling her story and how she has become so smart, et cetera, and is telling the interviewer about the cruelty that the clones "fabricants," are put through. Several times we can see the unbridled paranoia of people or "purebloods," and their unjustified prejudices take place, in the most horrible ways, and yet are not looked down upon. As the reader, we ourselves are struck by this horror, but the people that commit them, are not. Towards the end, we can truly see that the human or "purebloods," desire of hedonistic and lazy living has come at a rather cruel, ironic, and disgusting truth.
The last story and probably one that i do not as like as much as the three middle ones, is about a boy named Zachary as he tells his story. It had the potential to be such a great read, it truly did. The story was there, its interesting and captivating, but (there is always a but) it just felt wrong. The way that it was presented, just crawled under my skin like some parasitic bug crawls under a dead corpses skin, and began to itch to the point where i could not take it anymore. Perhaps it’s not even the way it was written. No actually that is wrong. David Mitchell is a very good author, so I apologize for being misleading. Its the language i guess. The extensive use of apostrophe's to make a rather fascinating and interesting sounding language, and to really make the character appear unique drove me mad. I know there are people out there, that go nuts for the use of such dialect and writing. There are people out there though as well that can read "Finnegan’s Wake," without actually sitting there scratching their head and going "huh?" or "what the fuck is this about? this makes no sense!" so in reality different tastes for us all. The language that Zachary uses just could not -- or rather would not grow on me. I could not get into it, and I could not help but bitching in my head about how much I disliked it. I said it before though. The potential of a great story is there -- no there is no potential, the great story is there. The reader just needs to get past the language in order to go through with it, and to see the story for its worth. I must admit I could not, but I know others out there certainly can and will. Those readers will certainly enjoy the story of Zachary more then I was able to.
My first read of David Mitchell, has been successful and enjoyable. I will most certainly read more fiction by David Mitchell. Maybe after I accumulate up a bit of money I can go out and buy his new novel in hardcover. Though $32.00 i tell myself is a hell of a lot to pay. But i guess to own a few hard covers, and enjoy the story you do what you have to do. I certainly look forward to seeing more of what Mr. David Mitchell pops out. I would also like to give his traditional "coming of age," novel "Black Swan Green," a try as well. I think its underappreciated by many people, and I do think it would make for a compelling read, from his post-modern narrative techniques.
Thank-You For Reading Gentle Reader
Stay Well Read
Take Care
M.Mary
Thursday, 19 August 2010
Literature as Dialogue
Hello Gentle Reader
Is Literature a form of dialogue?
Literature appears to share many common elements. Story, style, characters, and the exploration of a theme. Is it far stretched to say that Franz Kafka's notorious works of the surreal and the idea of mans absurd battle with society and itself, and the constant exploration of alienation, to have influenced others like:
Samuel Beckett
Thomas Bernhard
Haruki Murakami
Charles Bukowski
Albert Camus
among many others . . . ?
Some would say yes, while others would say no.
Literature has a lot in common. Authors read books. But authors also write books. Would it be far fetched to say that any of the above authors were not influenced by Franz Kafka. Could it not be said that Virginia Woolf, had influenced an entire generation of feminist authors?
Does this mean that Literature is dialogue? Some form of universal tongue, written in different languages, but always changing the way that the individual may see the world around them in some different form or another? Perhaps it does. However one must also take into account that many different people will read many different kinds of books.
Some remain in the science fiction genre. Others remain in the fantasy genre. While some may remain in the horror genre. And an "elite," group turn to the "Literary Fiction," that shapes and dictates "Mainstream," Literature. Though I of course find that sometimes funny, because one must always look so hard to find some actual "Literacy Fiction," rather then just genre fiction it appears.
The question still remains though. Is Literature a form of dialogue? In my (humble) opinion it is.
Herta Muller writes about the communist dictatorship and its bleak and horrible control it had on others.
Haruki Murakami, writes about the alienation that the people of Japan (usually younger people) feel, within the new consumerism driven economy.
Charles Bukowski, had written about the seedy low life of those that lived in a world of madness of booze, and otherwise hedonistic cravings.
Emile Zola, took the realism literary genre and advanced it into the "Naturalism." where he tried to show that the environment (and genetics) ultimately influences the person/individual's character.
Irvine Welsh, shows us the Scottish working classes day to day struggles, and the recreational drug use that encompasses the youth from the 1960's to the present.
Elfriede Jelinek, takes the novel and uses her characters like string puppets, and plays with them to show how the sexes (two genders) are always combating each other for domination of the other.
It appears that literature always has the same form of themes running through out. The themes, come from all over the world, and are put into various locations and settings. The themes are faced, and challenged by the characters from all over the world. Yet the basic principles of the novel or the story and often Literature itself, remain the same, opening it up for a sense of dialogue. Allowing the reader to talk to the others about what they interpret from the novel. This does make Literature a form of dialogue.
If the mechanics stay the same, if the themes are presented, and the authors shows these themes and allows for the characters to overcome or tragically fail, the reader is given a certain welcoming into the dialogue of literature. Though the dialogue is not like the normal dialogue that people may experience when they talk on the phone or with a friend face to face.
Literature is to show the reader as the individual something. What that may be, is most likely up to the reader. the author simply writes. what is written is words. words are composed by letters. Letters are in all honesty a symbol. Something that represents a certain syllable or sound. Therefore all words are, are just simple syllables and sounds. But what the author writes about is (usually) unique to the author themselves. The author may wish to entertain or enlighten. Perhaps both. Such a thing is not impossible. Its all just a matter of how the author does it.
Literature then is dialogue. A strange dialogue, that is unique and follows its own rules. -- yet again what they teach in English class in High School, Middle School, and Grades School, does not always meet the expectations of some of the books out there. For a quick example "Malloy," by Samuel Beckett, is set in two paragraphs. That’s it. In school we are often taught to write in paragraphs, and complete sentences. Well sometimes those rules are broken.
But literature remains a dialogue.
Horace Engdahl the former permanent secretary (Also Known As: spokesperson) for the Swedish Academy (the same Academy that awards the Nobel Prize for Literature) was reported as saying:
[he's talking about the United States] "too insular and ignorant to challenge Europe as the center of the literary world and does not really participate in the big dialogue of literature."
or something along those lines.
What Horace Engdahl meant by the "big dialogue of literature," and what i mean by literature as dialogue maybe different. But we can both agree that literature is like language, and language is communication -- therefore literature is dialogue. Both of us agree then that, literature is dialogue, and that remains the purpose of literature itself. To remain a dialogue, to entertain, and to enlighten. Sometimes however one of the two is taken to a more larger extent then the other. But the main objective of Literature itself is to remain a form of dialogue.
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
I apologize that i have not written more recently. I know I should have. My writing has been out of whacked recently but I am trying to get the groove back.
Stay Well Read Gentle Reader
M.Mary
Is Literature a form of dialogue?
Literature appears to share many common elements. Story, style, characters, and the exploration of a theme. Is it far stretched to say that Franz Kafka's notorious works of the surreal and the idea of mans absurd battle with society and itself, and the constant exploration of alienation, to have influenced others like:
Samuel Beckett
Thomas Bernhard
Haruki Murakami
Charles Bukowski
Albert Camus
among many others . . . ?
Some would say yes, while others would say no.
Literature has a lot in common. Authors read books. But authors also write books. Would it be far fetched to say that any of the above authors were not influenced by Franz Kafka. Could it not be said that Virginia Woolf, had influenced an entire generation of feminist authors?
Does this mean that Literature is dialogue? Some form of universal tongue, written in different languages, but always changing the way that the individual may see the world around them in some different form or another? Perhaps it does. However one must also take into account that many different people will read many different kinds of books.
Some remain in the science fiction genre. Others remain in the fantasy genre. While some may remain in the horror genre. And an "elite," group turn to the "Literary Fiction," that shapes and dictates "Mainstream," Literature. Though I of course find that sometimes funny, because one must always look so hard to find some actual "Literacy Fiction," rather then just genre fiction it appears.
The question still remains though. Is Literature a form of dialogue? In my (humble) opinion it is.
Herta Muller writes about the communist dictatorship and its bleak and horrible control it had on others.
Haruki Murakami, writes about the alienation that the people of Japan (usually younger people) feel, within the new consumerism driven economy.
Charles Bukowski, had written about the seedy low life of those that lived in a world of madness of booze, and otherwise hedonistic cravings.
Emile Zola, took the realism literary genre and advanced it into the "Naturalism." where he tried to show that the environment (and genetics) ultimately influences the person/individual's character.
Irvine Welsh, shows us the Scottish working classes day to day struggles, and the recreational drug use that encompasses the youth from the 1960's to the present.
Elfriede Jelinek, takes the novel and uses her characters like string puppets, and plays with them to show how the sexes (two genders) are always combating each other for domination of the other.
It appears that literature always has the same form of themes running through out. The themes, come from all over the world, and are put into various locations and settings. The themes are faced, and challenged by the characters from all over the world. Yet the basic principles of the novel or the story and often Literature itself, remain the same, opening it up for a sense of dialogue. Allowing the reader to talk to the others about what they interpret from the novel. This does make Literature a form of dialogue.
If the mechanics stay the same, if the themes are presented, and the authors shows these themes and allows for the characters to overcome or tragically fail, the reader is given a certain welcoming into the dialogue of literature. Though the dialogue is not like the normal dialogue that people may experience when they talk on the phone or with a friend face to face.
Literature is to show the reader as the individual something. What that may be, is most likely up to the reader. the author simply writes. what is written is words. words are composed by letters. Letters are in all honesty a symbol. Something that represents a certain syllable or sound. Therefore all words are, are just simple syllables and sounds. But what the author writes about is (usually) unique to the author themselves. The author may wish to entertain or enlighten. Perhaps both. Such a thing is not impossible. Its all just a matter of how the author does it.
Literature then is dialogue. A strange dialogue, that is unique and follows its own rules. -- yet again what they teach in English class in High School, Middle School, and Grades School, does not always meet the expectations of some of the books out there. For a quick example "Malloy," by Samuel Beckett, is set in two paragraphs. That’s it. In school we are often taught to write in paragraphs, and complete sentences. Well sometimes those rules are broken.
But literature remains a dialogue.
Horace Engdahl the former permanent secretary (Also Known As: spokesperson) for the Swedish Academy (the same Academy that awards the Nobel Prize for Literature) was reported as saying:
[he's talking about the United States] "too insular and ignorant to challenge Europe as the center of the literary world and does not really participate in the big dialogue of literature."
or something along those lines.
What Horace Engdahl meant by the "big dialogue of literature," and what i mean by literature as dialogue maybe different. But we can both agree that literature is like language, and language is communication -- therefore literature is dialogue. Both of us agree then that, literature is dialogue, and that remains the purpose of literature itself. To remain a dialogue, to entertain, and to enlighten. Sometimes however one of the two is taken to a more larger extent then the other. But the main objective of Literature itself is to remain a form of dialogue.
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
I apologize that i have not written more recently. I know I should have. My writing has been out of whacked recently but I am trying to get the groove back.
Stay Well Read Gentle Reader
M.Mary
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Frost
hello Gentle Reader
Frost by Thomas Bernhard, is more of a rant by a old man who has gone crazy rather then a linear story. however it is good, if you are willing to put up with it. Sometimes it can be difficult, sometimes not so difficult. One this is for certain with this novel is that it is certainly full of bitter, cynical, vicious, critical, pessimistic, and acidic prose.
The first few lines show the reader what they are in for:
“A medical internship consists of more than spectating at complicated bowel operations, cutting open stomach linings, bracketing off lungs and sawing off feet; and it doesn’t just consist of thumbing closed the eyes of the dead and hauling babies out into the world either.”
The story opens with a young medical intern, sent away under the orders of his superior surgeon to go observe and examine, (and report back to the surgeon) about his brother the painter named Strauch.
As the novel progresses we soon learn that Strauch is well -- in my opinion at least -- insane or on the brink of madness. he has had no contact with his borther the surgeon for quite sometime, and now the surgeon wants to know -- through interloping and espoinage it appears -- how his brother is doing.
through the stay at the village of Weng, where the painter Strauch is, the narrator is left to listen to the absurd, profund, suprisingly lyrical and of course -- bitter, nasty, misanthropic, misongist, critcal, vicious, ferociouse -- rants of the painter. the very man who he i sent to watch and to observe and report on. The very man that one cannot help but see a friendship -- however strange it maybe -- growing between he too.
not much can be siad on this novel. in fact the lacking of a coherent plot makes it difficult to review. But the musing's (typical of Thomas Bernhard fiction) are amazing and often absurd and sometimes there is a mixture of a dark grotesque humor, that makes you laugh.
a novel i would recomend to people who can stand the style of Samuel Beckett, as well as a novel for those who like the absurdity of life and to read about crazy old men rant and rave about just how pathetic life is and the very mistake of being born, and how it in itself is a tragic accident.
take care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for reading
stay well read
M.Mary
Frost by Thomas Bernhard, is more of a rant by a old man who has gone crazy rather then a linear story. however it is good, if you are willing to put up with it. Sometimes it can be difficult, sometimes not so difficult. One this is for certain with this novel is that it is certainly full of bitter, cynical, vicious, critical, pessimistic, and acidic prose.
The first few lines show the reader what they are in for:
“A medical internship consists of more than spectating at complicated bowel operations, cutting open stomach linings, bracketing off lungs and sawing off feet; and it doesn’t just consist of thumbing closed the eyes of the dead and hauling babies out into the world either.”
The story opens with a young medical intern, sent away under the orders of his superior surgeon to go observe and examine, (and report back to the surgeon) about his brother the painter named Strauch.
As the novel progresses we soon learn that Strauch is well -- in my opinion at least -- insane or on the brink of madness. he has had no contact with his borther the surgeon for quite sometime, and now the surgeon wants to know -- through interloping and espoinage it appears -- how his brother is doing.
through the stay at the village of Weng, where the painter Strauch is, the narrator is left to listen to the absurd, profund, suprisingly lyrical and of course -- bitter, nasty, misanthropic, misongist, critcal, vicious, ferociouse -- rants of the painter. the very man who he i sent to watch and to observe and report on. The very man that one cannot help but see a friendship -- however strange it maybe -- growing between he too.
not much can be siad on this novel. in fact the lacking of a coherent plot makes it difficult to review. But the musing's (typical of Thomas Bernhard fiction) are amazing and often absurd and sometimes there is a mixture of a dark grotesque humor, that makes you laugh.
a novel i would recomend to people who can stand the style of Samuel Beckett, as well as a novel for those who like the absurdity of life and to read about crazy old men rant and rave about just how pathetic life is and the very mistake of being born, and how it in itself is a tragic accident.
take care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for reading
stay well read
M.Mary
Sunday, 18 July 2010
The Passport
Hello Gentle Reader
After months of procrastantion, and weighing the prose and the cons of reading one of the Nobel Laureate of Literature of 2009: Herta Muller, i finally got around to buying one of her books. The unforunate part is, their is only one of her novels avaliable in the bookstore. "The Passport," tells of a village miller, who wishes to emigrate to Germany and be free of the totlitarian rule of the dictator Nicolae Ceau¸sescu.
Herta Muller has the most beautiful way of righting.
From the novel:
"Around the war memorial are roses.They form a thicket.So overgrown that they suffocate the grass. Their blooms are white, rolled like paper. They rustle. Dawn is breaking. Soon it will be day."
Herta Muller's short and poetic and beautiful sentences, remind of a single brush stroke of a painter. Her sentences often paint a more larger picture, in which each one is an individual stroke, but also communical in how to add's to the beauty of the novel.
I can now understand what they Swedish Academy meant when they said:
"who, with the concentration of poetry and the frankness of prose, depicts the landscape of the dispossessed"
I must admit that i truly did love this novel. However is it fair to call it a novel. Only comming in at a 90 - 92 page book in all, its a short quick read; but a great intruduction to what Herta Muller rights about.
Our main protagonist Windisch is trying to obtain a passport so that he and his family can leave the small village where he works as the miller, and emigrate to Germany. Windisch is of the German minority living in Romania, behind the Iron Curtain, under the communist rule of totalitarian monsters. Truly it is Herta Muller's job I feel to speak out against totaltarian goverments and their harshness and inhuman treatment of people. Stripping them of all human diginity that they once possesed.
The novel/story follows Windisch's attempts at attaining a passport. Giving flour to the mayor, to hopefully bribe him into giving him a passport. These attempts fail, and her reluctantly is forced to turn to his most preciouse gift. His daughter. Sending her off to see the village officals. To do a deed. Truly quite a pity.
The novel is a dark and bleak one. When tractor drivers bribe a little gypsy girl to lift her skirt. To a man who feed's his child vodka, while his girl friend sings and vomits against a wall. Even the supersition of the villagers are portrayed. Like the apple tree that once sat behind the church, which was burned, for it had grown lips and ate its apples. The priest of the village, had said that the devil was inside the tree and so the villagers burned the tree.
Windisch's wife was forced to have a hysterectomy, and secretly pleasures herself. Windisch on the other hand enters a mental malestorm on sexual hatred, and anti-semitism. Its as if the entire weight of the communist regime in Romania has driven Windisch to the point of madness. The reality of the world, has long since lost all reason and meaning to the poor main character, and we as the reader, are forced to accept the fact that he no longer is who he was.
For only a 90 page book, the misery and suffering depecited is extrodinary. Someone once told me that: "all novels must have a sense of comic relief." I am afraid to say that person. There was no comic relief in this tale of unhappiness, misery, bleakness, and despair. I as the reader, looked at these poor people, and truly now understand that I am lucky to have the life that i have.
Sure schools and parents will say: "eat your food their are starving childeren in China," but at the sametime i can now understand what it means to starve when "Grass Soup," is considered both a stape and a luxury.
I am both amazed and shocked at what people can and will do to each other. Its almost unbelievable -- and at the same time it is believable because it has and continues to be that way. How do people justify this? i cannot say, and i am sure of one thing that i will never know. What i can say is this:
Herta Muller Nobel Laureate of Literature of 2009, is an amazing author. Not a pretentious author, nor does she patronize. She writes, in a episodic and clearly fresh and to the point prose, but paints a larger more beautiful picture. I am honored to have read this novel, and would recomend it to anyone, to read it and get any idea of what she will write. Certainly though not for people, who expect some sense of comedy in it.
Thank-You For Reading Gentle Reader
Stay Well Read
Take Care
M.Mary
After months of procrastantion, and weighing the prose and the cons of reading one of the Nobel Laureate of Literature of 2009: Herta Muller, i finally got around to buying one of her books. The unforunate part is, their is only one of her novels avaliable in the bookstore. "The Passport," tells of a village miller, who wishes to emigrate to Germany and be free of the totlitarian rule of the dictator Nicolae Ceau¸sescu.
Herta Muller has the most beautiful way of righting.
From the novel:
"Around the war memorial are roses.They form a thicket.So overgrown that they suffocate the grass. Their blooms are white, rolled like paper. They rustle. Dawn is breaking. Soon it will be day."
Herta Muller's short and poetic and beautiful sentences, remind of a single brush stroke of a painter. Her sentences often paint a more larger picture, in which each one is an individual stroke, but also communical in how to add's to the beauty of the novel.
I can now understand what they Swedish Academy meant when they said:
"who, with the concentration of poetry and the frankness of prose, depicts the landscape of the dispossessed"
I must admit that i truly did love this novel. However is it fair to call it a novel. Only comming in at a 90 - 92 page book in all, its a short quick read; but a great intruduction to what Herta Muller rights about.
Our main protagonist Windisch is trying to obtain a passport so that he and his family can leave the small village where he works as the miller, and emigrate to Germany. Windisch is of the German minority living in Romania, behind the Iron Curtain, under the communist rule of totalitarian monsters. Truly it is Herta Muller's job I feel to speak out against totaltarian goverments and their harshness and inhuman treatment of people. Stripping them of all human diginity that they once possesed.
The novel/story follows Windisch's attempts at attaining a passport. Giving flour to the mayor, to hopefully bribe him into giving him a passport. These attempts fail, and her reluctantly is forced to turn to his most preciouse gift. His daughter. Sending her off to see the village officals. To do a deed. Truly quite a pity.
The novel is a dark and bleak one. When tractor drivers bribe a little gypsy girl to lift her skirt. To a man who feed's his child vodka, while his girl friend sings and vomits against a wall. Even the supersition of the villagers are portrayed. Like the apple tree that once sat behind the church, which was burned, for it had grown lips and ate its apples. The priest of the village, had said that the devil was inside the tree and so the villagers burned the tree.
Windisch's wife was forced to have a hysterectomy, and secretly pleasures herself. Windisch on the other hand enters a mental malestorm on sexual hatred, and anti-semitism. Its as if the entire weight of the communist regime in Romania has driven Windisch to the point of madness. The reality of the world, has long since lost all reason and meaning to the poor main character, and we as the reader, are forced to accept the fact that he no longer is who he was.
For only a 90 page book, the misery and suffering depecited is extrodinary. Someone once told me that: "all novels must have a sense of comic relief." I am afraid to say that person. There was no comic relief in this tale of unhappiness, misery, bleakness, and despair. I as the reader, looked at these poor people, and truly now understand that I am lucky to have the life that i have.
Sure schools and parents will say: "eat your food their are starving childeren in China," but at the sametime i can now understand what it means to starve when "Grass Soup," is considered both a stape and a luxury.
I am both amazed and shocked at what people can and will do to each other. Its almost unbelievable -- and at the same time it is believable because it has and continues to be that way. How do people justify this? i cannot say, and i am sure of one thing that i will never know. What i can say is this:
Herta Muller Nobel Laureate of Literature of 2009, is an amazing author. Not a pretentious author, nor does she patronize. She writes, in a episodic and clearly fresh and to the point prose, but paints a larger more beautiful picture. I am honored to have read this novel, and would recomend it to anyone, to read it and get any idea of what she will write. Certainly though not for people, who expect some sense of comedy in it.
Thank-You For Reading Gentle Reader
Stay Well Read
Take Care
M.Mary
Thursday, 15 July 2010
The Tipping Point
Hello Gentle Reader
The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference
Is a non-fiction piece of work by author: Malcolm Gladwell.
I am not a non-fiction reader. I perfer to be entertained mostly when I am reading, rather then to be reading a buisness lecture. Usually if i wish to get a buisness lecture i would go to college or university and take buisness and get lectured on buisness, and the fundemental properties of buisness and economics. However Mr. Malcolm Gladwell, has come to be a rather intersting and curios case of leniency.
To sum the area's of discussions in Mr. Malcolm Gladwell's novels; is basically as simple as pie. However, Mr. Macolm Gladwell, just just talk about the theme's and topic's that he is talking about, in dull and dry terms. He use's examples of real life marketing, and history even, as well as legal cases of law, to make his points and arguements, entertaining, clear and direct.
For the purpose of this quick review and blog we shall use two modern day examples that clearly show what Mr. Malcolm Gladwell is pointing on in his book.
Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber. A few months ago, i would have asked you the following: "Who and what?" Justin Bieber meant nothing to me. Lady Gaga i thought was a shoe. Only roughly a few months ago, was i introduced to who these two "Pop Culture Phenomena," where.
They are muscians or rather singers. Its far to much of a compliment, to call them muscians, when they are singers. Personally I find their music distasteful and not for me; however there are people who really do like their music. The question is why?
In Mr. Malcolm Gladwell's book "The Tipping Point," this would be called a "Stickiness Factor," something that makes these two singers memorable to the audience and the crowd that they are presenting themselves two. Is it Lady Gaga's image? The fact that Justin Bieber looks like a thirteen year old boy who just entered puberty? Is it their uplifting, feel good music? Is it their catchy sing along lyrics? Repetive tunes? I cannot say for sure, but there is a "Stickiness Factor," that is presented with these two individuals. Something that gets the listener hooked like a junkie gets hooked on herionie, or a smoker does with a cigarette.
"The Law of Few," is how these epidemic people had spread in popularity and why they kept to listening to their music. There was a memorable shot that was ingrained in their minds after listening. But once we find the short few that find or "discover," these people, they pass it on to their friends. However the real people that these two singers, should be thanking is what Malcolm Gladwell calls "Connectors." These are the people that connect us to the real world, and the different aspects of the world. The next individual that helps these individuals is the "Mavens." These people specialize in information. They are detailed, and very percise in the information that they know and collect. The last and least is the "Salesman." The charasmatic, great people person, who can can sell you a rotten arm and a leg, and have you convinced that its a great deal. These are the people that are that make these individual successful.
The last point and theme of the book is: "The Power of Context."
In the book Mr. Gladwell makes it clear that to spread an epedemic's are very sensitive to the enviroments and situations that they are spreading in.
Do you remember when the recession finally hit hard. The economic melt down had finally hit home. People where loosing their jobs. People (understandably) angry at what had happened. How the people in charge, had cost(ed) them their livelyhood. It had destroyed their families. Taken away the bright and shinning future's, and had caused an uproar. Yet the common person had no idea how this happened.
Yet in this time and desperation, depression, hoplessness, and anger, there came a voice. A woman's voice. Just an oridinary woman, who was plain, middle aged, and nothing special about her. Yet suddenly she walked on to stage with a cheeky smile, and wanted to be given the chance to sing. Her name: Susan Boyle. People where laughing at her. Thinking, this woman can't sing. They gawked at her appearance. They found her amusing and wished her to fail. However from her mouth came the song "I Dreamed a Dream," from the soundtrack of the Les Misérables. Her voice shook the audience into shock. Gathered a standing ocation, and had people, really thinking about how rude they were (not really but i am trying to have faith in humanity).
In this time of desperate need, there came this ordinary woman. She opened her mouth and sung out loud, and proud and did not hold back. The last laugh certainly was her own, and well deserved.
The "Youtube," video depecting her audition for "Britians Got Talent," went viral on "Youtube." In a time of need, Susan Boyle had people smiling, and put maybe bit of hope in dreams once more, and had people hoping they can make it through this terrible time of need.
Susan Boyle's epedimic was partly due to the time's and she was certainly a well needed burst of fresh air. she was not some glamorous young pop star, strutting around on stage in a thong or a bikini. she was modest, and let her voice speak for her, rather then her body.
If it is one thing that, this book had taught me, was that i have no control over epedimic's in pop culture or the world. However, I as a person have the free will to stand up and excersise my right not to buy their CD's as well as criticize these epedimic's. it should always be noted, that for every person that likes you, there is five people that will hate you.
This novel certainly was not boring. The content was at one point in time would have been boring at one point, but at this point with the use of examples, both modern and historical, Mr. Malcolm Gladwell did not make it boring whatsoever. Certainly an intersting, read indeed.
Thank-you for Reading Gentle Reader
Stay well Read
Take Care
M.Mary
The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference
Is a non-fiction piece of work by author: Malcolm Gladwell.
I am not a non-fiction reader. I perfer to be entertained mostly when I am reading, rather then to be reading a buisness lecture. Usually if i wish to get a buisness lecture i would go to college or university and take buisness and get lectured on buisness, and the fundemental properties of buisness and economics. However Mr. Malcolm Gladwell, has come to be a rather intersting and curios case of leniency.
To sum the area's of discussions in Mr. Malcolm Gladwell's novels; is basically as simple as pie. However, Mr. Macolm Gladwell, just just talk about the theme's and topic's that he is talking about, in dull and dry terms. He use's examples of real life marketing, and history even, as well as legal cases of law, to make his points and arguements, entertaining, clear and direct.
For the purpose of this quick review and blog we shall use two modern day examples that clearly show what Mr. Malcolm Gladwell is pointing on in his book.
Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber. A few months ago, i would have asked you the following: "Who and what?" Justin Bieber meant nothing to me. Lady Gaga i thought was a shoe. Only roughly a few months ago, was i introduced to who these two "Pop Culture Phenomena," where.
They are muscians or rather singers. Its far to much of a compliment, to call them muscians, when they are singers. Personally I find their music distasteful and not for me; however there are people who really do like their music. The question is why?
In Mr. Malcolm Gladwell's book "The Tipping Point," this would be called a "Stickiness Factor," something that makes these two singers memorable to the audience and the crowd that they are presenting themselves two. Is it Lady Gaga's image? The fact that Justin Bieber looks like a thirteen year old boy who just entered puberty? Is it their uplifting, feel good music? Is it their catchy sing along lyrics? Repetive tunes? I cannot say for sure, but there is a "Stickiness Factor," that is presented with these two individuals. Something that gets the listener hooked like a junkie gets hooked on herionie, or a smoker does with a cigarette.
"The Law of Few," is how these epidemic people had spread in popularity and why they kept to listening to their music. There was a memorable shot that was ingrained in their minds after listening. But once we find the short few that find or "discover," these people, they pass it on to their friends. However the real people that these two singers, should be thanking is what Malcolm Gladwell calls "Connectors." These are the people that connect us to the real world, and the different aspects of the world. The next individual that helps these individuals is the "Mavens." These people specialize in information. They are detailed, and very percise in the information that they know and collect. The last and least is the "Salesman." The charasmatic, great people person, who can can sell you a rotten arm and a leg, and have you convinced that its a great deal. These are the people that are that make these individual successful.
The last point and theme of the book is: "The Power of Context."
In the book Mr. Gladwell makes it clear that to spread an epedemic's are very sensitive to the enviroments and situations that they are spreading in.
Do you remember when the recession finally hit hard. The economic melt down had finally hit home. People where loosing their jobs. People (understandably) angry at what had happened. How the people in charge, had cost(ed) them their livelyhood. It had destroyed their families. Taken away the bright and shinning future's, and had caused an uproar. Yet the common person had no idea how this happened.
Yet in this time and desperation, depression, hoplessness, and anger, there came a voice. A woman's voice. Just an oridinary woman, who was plain, middle aged, and nothing special about her. Yet suddenly she walked on to stage with a cheeky smile, and wanted to be given the chance to sing. Her name: Susan Boyle. People where laughing at her. Thinking, this woman can't sing. They gawked at her appearance. They found her amusing and wished her to fail. However from her mouth came the song "I Dreamed a Dream," from the soundtrack of the Les Misérables. Her voice shook the audience into shock. Gathered a standing ocation, and had people, really thinking about how rude they were (not really but i am trying to have faith in humanity).
In this time of desperate need, there came this ordinary woman. She opened her mouth and sung out loud, and proud and did not hold back. The last laugh certainly was her own, and well deserved.
The "Youtube," video depecting her audition for "Britians Got Talent," went viral on "Youtube." In a time of need, Susan Boyle had people smiling, and put maybe bit of hope in dreams once more, and had people hoping they can make it through this terrible time of need.
Susan Boyle's epedimic was partly due to the time's and she was certainly a well needed burst of fresh air. she was not some glamorous young pop star, strutting around on stage in a thong or a bikini. she was modest, and let her voice speak for her, rather then her body.
If it is one thing that, this book had taught me, was that i have no control over epedimic's in pop culture or the world. However, I as a person have the free will to stand up and excersise my right not to buy their CD's as well as criticize these epedimic's. it should always be noted, that for every person that likes you, there is five people that will hate you.
This novel certainly was not boring. The content was at one point in time would have been boring at one point, but at this point with the use of examples, both modern and historical, Mr. Malcolm Gladwell did not make it boring whatsoever. Certainly an intersting, read indeed.
Thank-you for Reading Gentle Reader
Stay well Read
Take Care
M.Mary
Thursday, 17 June 2010
Never Let Me Go Film Adaption
Hello Gentle Reader
From the looks of what i have made a list of, i have eleven books that i should read. However i shall get to them when i get to them. As of right now i need to take a break from reading books and just let my mind relax. i know i have started: "Savage Detectives," by Roberto Bolano, and "The Black Prince," by Iris Murdoch but i will get to them when i get to them. i guess it does not help that i have a library card now, and can rent out books like crazy. but for the time being i know i should just stop and take a breather. Try to focus on my writing and et cetera.
****
I have known of the novel by Kazuo Ishiguro for quite a while (the novels name is "Never Let Me Go,"). Now sometime in 2010 a movie adaption is set to be released. i must admit as a person who prefers the detailed and richly characterized form of novels over the rather shallow and often surface view of movies, i have little to no expectations.
Though the movie adaption of this novel may be worth something. that however should be tested upon its release. Some people are avid movie watchers and could tell you the director, and the actors and rate the actors on a scale from 1 - 10. I on the other hand am not that kind of person. I can see past the notion of the shallow depth and find myself often disappointed with the lack of depth and detail in a movie.
I can think of a few movies made from novels that were just dreadful for those that have actually read the novels.
"The Golden Compass," by Phillip Pullman was dreadful. The book was far better. the Movie adaption was dreadful, just dreadful. The ending was wrong, which pissed me off the most. I mean how can you get the ending wrong? Start the movie right, and end it right. I guess some people just don't see that.
"The Cat in The Hat." Lets just face it a book that is based on pictures, and some word play. you just can't turn that into a feature film.
"The Blind Assassin." I must confess that i have never seen this movie personally, but i will say that i have read the book, and i don't think that a movie could even try to do this novel justice. its a story within a story, with a novel written by a character in the novel itself. honestly you may enjoy the book but leave it at that.
However there have been some movies that have been adapted from books, that were done quite well, i think.
"Fight Club." Done quite well, and presented Chuck Palahniuk's novel in an interesting light. The acting was amazing, and not shallow however you still knew that the characters where the actors (mainly because its Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, and Helena Bohemian Carter)
"Trainspotting." Hard to understand, but great set of characters and actors to play them. The adaption certainly did this novel some justice.
"Requiem for a Dream." With the Kronos Quartet playing the strings, that is both haunting and unnerving this movie adaption hit me in the stomach and was more chilling then any horror movie i have ever seen.
I suppose Hollywood has its good points and its bad points. That being said, i still have no to little expectations for this up and coming movie adaption of "Never Let Me Go," will i be disappointed? I can't say as of right now. Will i go see the movie theatre’s? I don't know. if i do, i do. If i do not, then i do not. What i do know as of right now is that if i go i go. What i will say as of right now though, is that i have no expectations.
If the movie is successful I suppose Mister Kazuo Ishiguro's wallet will get a bit thicker.
Take Care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
And As Always
Stay Well Read
Morose-Mary
From the looks of what i have made a list of, i have eleven books that i should read. However i shall get to them when i get to them. As of right now i need to take a break from reading books and just let my mind relax. i know i have started: "Savage Detectives," by Roberto Bolano, and "The Black Prince," by Iris Murdoch but i will get to them when i get to them. i guess it does not help that i have a library card now, and can rent out books like crazy. but for the time being i know i should just stop and take a breather. Try to focus on my writing and et cetera.
****
I have known of the novel by Kazuo Ishiguro for quite a while (the novels name is "Never Let Me Go,"). Now sometime in 2010 a movie adaption is set to be released. i must admit as a person who prefers the detailed and richly characterized form of novels over the rather shallow and often surface view of movies, i have little to no expectations.
Though the movie adaption of this novel may be worth something. that however should be tested upon its release. Some people are avid movie watchers and could tell you the director, and the actors and rate the actors on a scale from 1 - 10. I on the other hand am not that kind of person. I can see past the notion of the shallow depth and find myself often disappointed with the lack of depth and detail in a movie.
I can think of a few movies made from novels that were just dreadful for those that have actually read the novels.
"The Golden Compass," by Phillip Pullman was dreadful. The book was far better. the Movie adaption was dreadful, just dreadful. The ending was wrong, which pissed me off the most. I mean how can you get the ending wrong? Start the movie right, and end it right. I guess some people just don't see that.
"The Cat in The Hat." Lets just face it a book that is based on pictures, and some word play. you just can't turn that into a feature film.
"The Blind Assassin." I must confess that i have never seen this movie personally, but i will say that i have read the book, and i don't think that a movie could even try to do this novel justice. its a story within a story, with a novel written by a character in the novel itself. honestly you may enjoy the book but leave it at that.
However there have been some movies that have been adapted from books, that were done quite well, i think.
"Fight Club." Done quite well, and presented Chuck Palahniuk's novel in an interesting light. The acting was amazing, and not shallow however you still knew that the characters where the actors (mainly because its Brad Pitt, Edward Norton, and Helena Bohemian Carter)
"Trainspotting." Hard to understand, but great set of characters and actors to play them. The adaption certainly did this novel some justice.
"Requiem for a Dream." With the Kronos Quartet playing the strings, that is both haunting and unnerving this movie adaption hit me in the stomach and was more chilling then any horror movie i have ever seen.
I suppose Hollywood has its good points and its bad points. That being said, i still have no to little expectations for this up and coming movie adaption of "Never Let Me Go," will i be disappointed? I can't say as of right now. Will i go see the movie theatre’s? I don't know. if i do, i do. If i do not, then i do not. What i do know as of right now is that if i go i go. What i will say as of right now though, is that i have no expectations.
If the movie is successful I suppose Mister Kazuo Ishiguro's wallet will get a bit thicker.
Take Care Gentle Reader
Thank-you for reading Gentle Reader
And As Always
Stay Well Read
Morose-Mary
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