Category: Books and Reading Page 14 of 16

August Recap

Movies

Night Watch (imdb)
This was Russia’s entry to the Academy Awards in 2005, and judging from that and the trailers I’d seen, I was really hoping it would be great. It’s the first of a proposed trilogy dealing with the on-going supernatural battle between good and evil, fought unseen to most humans by races of superhuman creatures (they’re human, or were at one time, but with special senses and powers–it’s sort of like Star Wars force sensitives put into the vampires vs. werewolfs milieu of Underworld). The underlying mythology is extensive and detailed, and pretty interesting as a premise. Unfortunately, the movie was so torn between its concern for plot complexity and its preoccupation with cool visuals that the whole thing ended up coming out a muddled mess. It’s like the scenarist handed them a perfect, pristine backstory, and then they called in a bunch of rewriters and editors who said “okay, take that, leave that out, put that over there, throw this in on top, etc” until you can’t hardly keep track of who’s doing what, much less why or what the consequences will be. This is a problem. I wanted to like it so badly, and on one level, I did. The visuals are good (though the quick editing–pandemic in action films these days–lessens rather than magnifies the effect), the themes are intriguing (the main character, a good guy, has to protect his son, who is becoming aware of the supernatural powers he has, from the bad guys, but in doing so, may in fact lose him to evil…each person must choose his own side), and if the other two parts of the trilogy are made, they may in fact make this one clear enough in retrospect that the entire work is much greater than the sum of its parts. I think that potential is there. Unfortunately, Night Watch on its own doesn’t work.
Average; I don’t know whether to upgrade it because I liked the underlying potential so much, or downgrade it because it failed so nearly completely to realize that potential, so Average it stays.

Scoop (imdb)
You never know what to expect from Woody Allen anymore. I was hopeful going into Scoop, based on the quality of Match Point, and his recasting of Scarlett Johanssen, but also a little trepidatious, because Match Point, after all, was a thriller/drama, and Scoop is a quirky comedy, though still with a mystery/thriller angle; perhaps Woody hasn’t yet regained his comedic ability. Also of concern was the fact that Allen refrained from acting in Match Point, but took a rather large supporting role in Scoop…Allen is a director to be reckoned with, but adding the paranoia and neuroticism inherent in his films to his extremely neurotic acting style is often too much, especially as he’s gotten older. Thankfully, he continues his now two-film streak, and Scoop is an extremely enjoyable, if slight, entertainment. Granted, Allen does go overboard as an actor, and repeats his character’s jokes a bit too often, but Johanssen stands out as a calming force, despite the fact that she does, in some ways, share Allen’s mannerisms (a piece of directorial advice that’s a little iffy, but seems to work for the film overall). She is a journalism student who is visited by the ghost of a preeminent journalist who has recently died before getting a chance to follow up on a tip to an extremely juicy scoop–a series of unsolved murders attributed to the Tarot Card killer may, in fact, have been committed by the son of a prominent English Lord. Johanssen jumps on the story and insinuates herself into the English gentry to try to expose this Lord’s son, who turns out to be Hugh Jackman looking extremely, um, exposable (take that how you will). Tagging along is Allen, as a vaudeville magician who gets roped into playing Johanssen’s father for her little charade. There’s nothing really deep or profound to think about here, as in Match Point or Allen’s best films of the ’70s and ’80s, but it’s a rollicking good time without pretensions of being anything more.
Well Above Average

Little Miss Sunshine (imdb)
I have never been to a film that roused the audience as much as this one did–the entire theatre erupted into delighted laughter so often it became impossible to keep track. It would have been worth it just to experience the audience enjoying itself so much, but the film deserved every outbreak of emotion, both laughter and near-tears. It is, in fact, a great example of the quirky independent film–each character is well-defined with dreams and aspirations, quirks and weaknesses. If they get a little caricaturish at times, it’s due to the necessarily short amount of time we have to get to know them. Think of Arrested Development smashed into an hour and a half. Greg Kinnear plays Richard, the father of a family which includes: himself, a motivational speaker trying to get a book deal; his wife Sheryl (Toni Collette), overworked and stressed as she tries to care for her family without a real income from her husband, but who cares deeply about the desires and goals of her children; their teenaged son Dwayne (Paul Dano), who has taken a vow of silence until he gets his pilot’s licence and reads Nietszche constantly; their young daughter Olive (a remarkable turn by Abigail Breislin), who wants desperately to win the Little Miss Sunshine beauty contest; his father (Alan Arkin), an irascible and outspoken old man who supports Olive unequivocally, but in a somewhat unorthodox fashion; and Sheryl’s brother Frank (Steve Carrell, who is awesome), a recent addition to the family due to his recent suicide attempt. Put all of them in an old Volkswagen van with a faulty clutch for a three-day road trip to the beauty contest finals, and chaos ensues–but so does love. It’s a very successful amalgamation of comedy and pathos, of quirkiness and relatability, of witty dialogue and spot-on performances.
Superior

Ossessione (imdb)
Ossessione is based on James M. Cain’s novel The Postman Always Rings Twice (which was filmed by Hollywood in 1946, and more unfortunately in 1981), and also ranks as one of the first films considered to be part of the Italian neo-realist movement. Personally, it didn’t seem terribly “realist” to me, but that’s largely because the acting style hasn’t caught up with the other elements. The woman particularly overplays her character to the point of incredulity at times. The story, as in the book and American film versions, concerns a drifter who stops in at a gas station and insinuates himself into the life of the propietor and his much-younger wife. Before long, the drifter and wife have planned to get rid of the husband, who is decidedly in the way of their being happy together. That scene is particularly well-done, as neither of them explicity says what they’re planning to do, yet it’s completely clear. There’s also a young girl whom the drifter takes up with at one point (he’s not quite as committed as his murder accomplice is to the relationship), and I laud her performance as indicative of the sort of freshness and realistic acting that will characterize much of the neo-realist movement once it really gets going. Basically, the film has a lot of great elements, but they didn’t add up to a great film for me.
Above Average

The Island (imdb)
Great premise, average execution. Pretty much what I should have expected from Michael Bay. Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johanssen are part of large group of people confined to a futuristic, sterile outpost due to the contamination of the earth…all except for “the Island,” where everybody hopes to be chosen to go. Except, all that’s a lie created to keep the inmates content; in actuality, they’re all clones created for the very wealthy as organ donors. There are a lot of very interesting ethical dilemmas that could be explored here–the rights of clones as opposed to their “owners,” the fact that the head of the corporation creating the clones has lied to the public (who all think that the clones have no consciousness), the knowledge that Johanssen’s double is going to die within hours without an organ transplant and leave behind young children–but the film doesn’t explore them hardly at all. Once the McGregor figures out what’s going on (a conclusion which isn’t sufficiently explained, either), the film goes into total “free the clones, preferably with as many explosions and chase scenes as possible” mode. Which, again, to be expected from Bay. McGregor and Johanssen are very pretty. And there are a lot of explosions. Sometimes that’s enough, but in this case, with so many big ideas hovering below the surface, it simply wasn’t.
Average

Triumph of the Will (imdb)
Welcome to an all-but-impossible film to review. Triumph of the Will is the record of the 1934 Nazi Party rally, held very soon after the death of Hindenberg, which essentially made Hitler the supreme leader of Germany. It is the propoganda film to end all propoganda films. The question that has plagued film critics for decades is this: is it possible to evaluate this film on its own terms as a documentary film, and separate it from its propogandistic purpose and the knowledge of everything that the Nazi party would do over the next ten years? And of course, being me, I was like, of course! Technique can always be evaluated separately from ideology, right? But now I’m not sure. Because the whole time the camera was proudly surveying Hitler’s Youth Camps, and the whole time the hundreds of batallions were marching through the streets of Nuremberg, and the whole time the people were cheering themselves hoarse for the Fuhrer, I couldn’t help but be horrified, thinking of what would happen–what these boys, some of them ten, twelve years old, would be doing in ten years time. And it’s not as if the whole agenda was kept quiet–in the speeches preserved from Hitler, and Himmler, and Goebbels, and others, though it’s not emphasized as much as the desire for a strong German fatherland, there are explicit references to the necessity of preserving the Aryan race, no matter what, and retaking the lands that were split up after WWI, etc. It’s all there, already. And the most unbelievable thing is how small a man Hitler was. He doesn’t seem to be a strong leader at all. But boy did his speeches get everyone riled up, even though they were little more than patriotic drivel. It’s really incredible, the power he was able to gather to himself. I noticed that watching Downfall as well, but here…this is actually Hitler. One thing that did come out was how demoralizing the reparations of the end of WWI were to Germany, which goes a long way to explaining how quickly Hitler was able to rise to the position he did. See, I did an entire reaction that’s all about ideology. Wow. There’s a lot of rather boring marching and stuff, but even there, Triumph of the Will is chilling to watch. Must-see if you’re at all interested in Germany or WWII history.
Above Average

Grand Illusion (imdb)
You ever watch a film and have the feeling while you’re watching it that it’s a great, great movie? Sometimes I feel that when the credits roll, sometimes I feel it a few weeks later, and once in a very long while I feel it before the first reel is through. Grand Illusion is that sort of movie. For some reason, I expected Grand Illusion to be one of those anti-war movies that’s good, but not terribly enjoyable. But those fears were gone a mere ten minutes into the film, and my only concern was whether the rest of it would keep the same high. And it does. The story concerns two French officers in WWI captured by the Germans in the first few minutes–the rest of the film is about their time in the prison camp and their escape attempts. Along the way is some wonderful comment on the way WWI totally changed war, not only in actual combat (of which there’s almost none), but in the conception of the army. The German commander of the prison camp gives preferential treatment to one of the officers, because they are both noblemen, holdovers of a time when military leadership was the province of the nobility, and this–at least according to the German man–gives them more in common with each other than either has with their own fellow officers. I was a little skeptical of the easy time all the Frenchmen had as POWs, but director Jean Renoir claimed he took many of the scenes from firsthand stories from relatives in the war. I don’t know. Anyway. The scenes of cameraderie as all the POWs plan their escapes, the grimly triumphant joy that breaks into “La Marseillaise” when the prisoners hear that France has taken a town from Germany, and the despairing disappointment when the next day, Germany takes it back (“there won’t be any of it left,” one of them realizes), the passing of an entire way of life in the figures of the gentleman officers, the extremely beautiful section near the end, after the commoner officer escapes and hides out with a young German widow and her daughter–so many scenes worth remembering. In a way, it feels like three films in one, but it makes one whole that’s absolutely perfect. And every once in a while you’ll hear me caveat an older film by almost apologizing for the acting style…no need to do that here. There isn’t a wrong note hit, there’s not a hint of overacting (even by Erich von Stroheim as the German commander); in fact, all taken together, these are some of the most natural and fitting performances I’ve seen in a long time. I wanted it to keep going forever.
Superior

Books

A Scanner Darkly by Philip K. Dick (audiobook version read by Paul Giamatti)
I must admit to finding it pathetic that the only book I finished in all of August was an audiobook that I listened to in its entirety while driving from Waco to St. Louis. And I can’t even really blame school, because it didn’t start until the third week of the month! Still, if I only had one book in the month, A Scanner Darkly deserved to be the one. It’s an excellent example of the paranoia school of sci-fi, and honestly, it helped me understand the movie (which I saw last month), a lot better. I think I ran down the story when talking about the film, but I’ll do it again. In the future, a drug known as Substance D has taken hold of the population–it’s highly addictive and mind-altering, and eventually causes death. The main character, Bob Arctor, is a user and dealer, but he’s also an undercover cop working to out dealers, and he spends a good deal of the time surveilling himself and his friends. As the story goes on, the D affects his brain more and more, causing him to really split into two people, the dealer and the cop. This is MUCH clearer in the book than in the film. In the film, it’s unclear whether he knows at the beginning that he’s both Arctor and the cop, though by the end he certainly does not. In the book, he certainly knows at the beginning that he’s spying on himself, trying to find out who his supplier’s supplier is. His self-knowledge grows successively weaker, though, and by the end, he’s completely shocked when the police psychiatrists inform him that he is Arctor. I thought the book did a much better job with that part of the story, but I’ll need to rewatch the film to make sure. Like the film, it’s very trippy, but it does explain things a little more–that can be good or bad, I guess, depending on how into ambiguity you are. Also, since I listened to the audiobook version, it’s appropriate to point out how awesome Paul Giamatti is. I already knew he was an awesome actor, and it was the fact that he was reading that pushed me into getting the audiobook (normally I disagree with the way the reader reads a book so much that I can’t listen to audiobooks), and it was well-worth it. Even if you’ve read the book, I recommend checking this out from the library or something, just to experience Giamatti’s genius.
Well Above Average

Donne Donne Donne

I hate poetry. Okay, hate is a strong word. I strongly dislike poetry. I’m trying to read John Donne for class tomorrow, and it doesn’t make sense, and I’m so frustrated. I actually just went on the school website to see if I could drop the class. But I know I shouldn’t give up that easily. Still. Some people look at difficult poetry as a challenge, and I’ve tried to see it like that, but it’s not working. Even when I finally do understand it (either by myself or because the teacher or someone explained it), I don’t usually like it any better. It’s not some feeling of accomplishment. I just feel like I’ve been gypped of hours of my time spent trying to understand something that he could’ve said in a much more straightfoward, succinct manner. I know I sound terribly unliterary by thinking that poetry is a waste of time (and I don’t think all of it is…poetry can be very beautiful and also not give me a headache..there are even some of the Donne ones I like all right), but there it is.

At least when I had to read Gerard Manly Hopkins last week for 19th and 20th Century Lit, I knew that soon, we’d be moving on to novels by Wilde, Woolf, Forster, etc. In the Donne class? Nope. Four more weeks of Donne, then the rest of the semester on other metaphysical poets who promise to be just as obscure. Kill.Me.Now.

I thought writing this down would make me feel better. Strangely, it didn’t. Maybe I’ll go upstairs and throw pillows around for a while to vent my frustration.

Addendum

A little more on how I’m not a good academic.

I just finished reading a chapter in the same book on libraries (they’re getting into the nitty gritty of where to locate the best bibliographies and which research libraries have the best collections of specific authors and eras), and they’re going on and on about the libraries that have huge collections of first editions, among other things. And you can tell that they’re expecting scholars to just start drooling over these first editions, and I know a lot of my classmates are fans of rare and old books. I’m just…not. To me, as long as the words are the same, a $1.97 paperback you bought used from the corner bookshop is worth just as much as a first edition that sells for thousands of dollars. I do go on about loving the feel of a book in my hands, or liking one edition over another, but it has nothing to do with age or market value–it has to do with weight, and proportionality, and smoothness, and pretty pictures on the cover.

Of course, I acknowledge the value of manuscripts, especially if the author marked them up a bunch or something, but I still don’t really care to get down and dirty with them myself. As of this moment, I’d be just as comfortable working with fascimiles if I needed to consult the original manuscript. I do love libraries, but I’m honestly not that much of a fan of the old books in libraries. I’d much rather hunker down with a new, pristine copy than one that’s three hundred years old, even if I can acknowledge that it is amazing it’s still around.

It just seems like it’s so much more important what it says than what its physical properties are. I’m not sure what that means, other than I’m clearly not cut out to be the same type of scholar that Altick and Fenstermaker are.

Academic Elitism

I don’t think I’m going to make a very good academic. Good thing I already suspected that and didn’t sign up for the PhD program.

There’s an elitism that just about falls off the page of even the small amount of scholarly writing I’ve read, and especially from the introductory textbook we’re using in Bibliograpy and Research class. (Note: I don’t think all scholars are elitist, and certainly all aspiring scholars are not, because almost all of the students in the class were put off by the elitism in this book–Altick & Fenstermaker – The Art of Literary Research.) But here’s a quote to illustrate my point:

This moment is as appropriate as any to point out that it is a faux pas, no less deplorable than eating peas with a knife, to speak of our professional publications as “magazines.” Magazines are publications of miscellaneous content for the lay reader. Time and Smithsonian are magazines. The proper generic term to use is periodicals; if the periodicals are devoted mainly to research, they are journals; if to criticism, reviews. But never “magazines.” (Altick & Fenstermaker, footnote 6 on p. 162, italics and quotes theirs)

Of course there’s a distinction between general-reader magazines and specialist journals. But to term it in this way makes it sound as though the layperson is some total dunce who doesn’t wouldn’t know a journal if it smacked him upside the head, and as though magazines are so totally beneath the gaze of the “professional” scholar that they should barely acknowledge their existence, and if they do, it must be with an upturned nose and a dismissive flick of the hand. This is grossly elitist and I think wholly uncalled for, especially in a profession whose mission it is to increase and make accessible the sum total of knowledge in the world.

Or perhaps this is an inaccurate view of the goal of academic study. Perhaps this is solely my naive and idealistic goal. It certainly seems that way sometimes. If that were the goal, academic journals would be more easily available, and scholarly articles wouldn’t cost $40.00 a whack (just an example) to access, even when the journals distribute them on the web at all. The resources on IngentaConnect and Project Muse wouldn’t require you to affiliated with a university to use them. (Perhaps I’m too used to open-source.)

That’s not an isolated example either:

[T]he fact remains that behind the book [speaking generally of any literary work] is a man or woman whose character and experience cannot be overlooked in any effort to establish what the book really says. The quality of the imagination, the genetic and psychological factors that shaped a writer’s personality and determined the atmosphere of his or her inner being, the experiences, large and small, that fed the store from which such an artist in words drew the substance of art: all these must be sought, examined, and weighed if we are to comprehend the meaning of a text. (Altick & Fenstermaker, p3, italics mine)

Again, I agree that knowledge of the author’s background can be important to a text…some more so than others, simply because some authors are more personal than others. And I certainly don’t subscribe wholly to the reader-response theory, or New Criticism, or any of the other theories that completely throw the author out (and sometimes, throw the text out as well), but to state the importance of the author’s life and background (as well as historical circumstances, as they go on to in the next paragraph) as categorically as Altick and Fenstermaker do renders it useless to even read literary works unless you have a PhD in them! So keep that in mind, all of you (and me) who have not completed post-graduate work in literature, the next time you read any book. Until you have gained exhuastive knowledge of the author’s life, as well as physical and cultural surroundings, you don’t stand a chance of understanding the book. At all. *eyeroll* I’m sorry, but admitting that extra knowledge is helpful and good to have for better understanding is very different from saying that it’s necessary for any understanding at all (which is how I and most of the class read this page of the text).

The whole text is actually pretty good–I’m not knocking all of the good and helpful things it has to say, but the tone of some of it just brings up all the issues I have with the things I’m discovering about academia.

In some ways, I think academia has a negative influence on great literature; I really do. It takes authors who, in their day, wrote for mass audiences and puts them on impossible pedestals. (The flip side, of course, is that scholars also often rescue authors from obscurity, which is definitely positive.) Pedestals not impossible in the sense that the authors can’t live up to them, but impossible in that it makes it impossible (or seem impossible) for ordinary people to feel comfortable reading them. Shakespeare is the best example, but Dickens, Austen, Dante, all work as well. Dante wrote in the vernacular…the first major poet to do so! He basically standardized Italian because The Divine Comedy was so widely read that variant dialects started to disappear in favor of Dante’s Italian. He championed the use of the everyday language, as opposed to Latin, which by that time was only understood by scholars and clergy. Shakespeare wrote for a wide audience, ranging from kings to peasants. His plays were the popular form of entertainment at the time. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if Shakespeare were alive today, he would probably be writing for television–the current mass-market equivalent of the Elizabethan stage. Dickens’ novels were originally published serially in periodicals (or, hey, “magazines”!) and were read by essentially everybody at the time. Yet today, these authors are dreaded in high school, suffered through in college, and mostly discussed by academics trying to secure tenure.

Part of that is due to a falling literacy rate (literacy not just in the sense of reading itself, but in the ability and inclination to read above an 8th-grade level), and a profusion of other entertainments beside reading. But academia, in making its goal the proliferation of scholarly texts for a scholarly audience and increasing the separation between academics and laypeople, isn’t helping matters. I dreaded Shakespeare in high school not because I’d had difficulty reading him, but because I had such an awe-filled mental image of him, because I knew his work had been studied so much and for so long by so many people with so much knowledge that there was no way I could ever hope to understand him enough to enjoy him. It’s a mental block that academia, more than anyone else, should be working to strip away, not to increase. We should be working to increase the general level of education, not strengthen the bar separating academics and laypeople.

That’s what I want to do. I want the stigma that good literature often has to be eliminated–whenever I’m in a public place reading a classic book, people ask me what class I’m taking, as if the only reason anyone would ever want to read a classic is because they have to. That’s so silly. (On the other hand, why do I feel embarrassed if I’m seen reading the latest bestseller? I also have innate elitism that I’m working to get rid of…) I want to take literature away from the lofty halls and ivory towers and give it back to the people. It seems the ivory towers want to hang on to it. I’m not sure where the right place is for me to ultimately be, but I’m getting more and more sure that it’s not in academia, at least not as I’m currently envisioning it–I only hope graduate study will help me to gain some of the tools I need in order to do what I want to do. (Last qualifying note, I promise: I do understand and think necessary the work that scholars do within academia, as far as working to produce the best possible text, and give the best possible account of an author’s life, and even applications of literary theory which are intended for a scholarly audience; I just resist strongly the idea that ALL, or even most, academic writing should be written with a scholarly audience in mind, because if it is, academia is little more than an echo chamber.)

One Book meme

Jennifer tagged me for this a couple of weeks ago, and I missed it. But then I found it, so here you go.

1. One book that changed your life:
How do people answer questions like this? I have no idea…I don’t think any book has ever changed my life so obviously that I could say “that book, right there, made me who I am” or anything like that. They just work more gradually than that, and not really as individual books. Maybe if someone could explain how this question is supposed to be approached, I could make a better attempt at it…

2. One book that you’ve read more than once:
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. I would put all the Narnia books on, but I have read this one the most. Largely because I’ll start to read the series, then get stuck in Prince Caspian because I don’t care for it much. Sometimes I just skip Caspian, but I keep thinking that if I read it enough, one of these times I’ll like it.

3. One book you’d want on a desert island:
The complete set of Norton Anthologies. Heh. I’m not really getting the gist of this “one book” thing, am I? How about…The Riverside Shakespeare? It’s one volume! And should keep me busy for a while.

4. One book that made you laugh:
I’m tempted to say Digital Fortress by Dan Brown, just because I mocked it so hard all the way through, but I don’t think that’s what the question intends. Anything by P.G. Wodehouse gets the good kind of laughs.

5. One book that made you cry:
Catch-22 made me cry, and laugh as well. But the laughs were expected. The tears weren’t, so those scenes that made me cry are the ones burned into my memory.

6. One book that you wish had been written:
Playacting in Shakespeare. Would’ve been very helpful when writing a paper on the topic for Shakespeare class a few years ago. The paper still turned out okay, once I acknowledged that I couldn’t find ANY sources, and the professor let me base it on close reading rather than research, but still. Somebody has to have written this book, somewhere.

7. One book that you wish had never been written:
Ooh, tough tough tough. Sounds dangerously close to book-burning, and I’m not about that. But I think Mein Kampf is probably a good bet. The world could’ve easily done without Nazism, WWII, the Holocaust, and the remaining vestiges of Neo-Nazism. So, yeah, I’ll go with that.

8. One book you’re currently reading:
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I’ve heard a couple of people say they’re having difficulty getting through Crime and Punishment, but I zoomed through C&P compared to Karamazov. It’s good, but it’s…dense.

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read:
Just one? Um. A.S. Byatt’s Possession. Mark has been after me to read it for a few months now, and I keep putting it off, even though I’m dying to read it. Delayed gratification and all that rot, you know. Really, though, I could’ve chosen any of some 150 books I own and haven’t read (y’all know I cannot pass up book fairs and used bookstores).

I think just about everyone in this blog’s circle has done it, so I won’t tag specific people…if you want to do it, please do! I’ll go pick on some Livejournal people for it, though…haven’t seen it make the rounds there yet.

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