Synopsis: Really, now. If you don't know the story of Peter Pan... A girl and her two brothers travel to Neverland with The Boy Who Never Grew Up, and adventure ensues.
This book was an absolute delight to read. The writing is sketchy--it's obvious it is a novelization of a play. The scenes and lines of the play are strong, but then weak links connect them.
It was especially nice to see Barrie's script for myself and not someone else's interpretation. One of the things we learn is that Peter Pan is not the selfless hero he's made out to be in pretty much every interpretation I've seen. He is the embodyment of little boys. Good and bad. Remember those kids who picked on you in third grade, Peter partakes of them as much as he partakes of your idealized best friend from that time. Sure, he saves the day regularly, but only because it's a game to him. It's just as likely that he'll lose interest and let you die.
It's also amazing how much of what I "knew" about Peter Pan wasn't true. Example: Neverland does not, in fact, lie at "Second star on the right and straight on till morning." First, the actual line from Peter is "Second to the right and straight on till morning." Second, the narrator explicitly states that it is not true. It's just something Peter says. The actual flight to Neverland takes an indeterminate amount of time greater than a couple of days.
The "Clap if you believe in faeries" line was the weakest I've ever seen it. And understandably so. The key to that scene in the play is the interplay between the actor playing Peter and the audience. On paper, it just doesn't have power. Of course, I've always had a soft spot for that scene, considering my own mild Peter Pan Complex. Oh, and Peter is addressing the thousands of sleeping boys and girls around the world in that scene. When children dream, their minds come close to Neverland. So that means the 2003 movie Peter Pan is the most true-to-the-original version I've seen.
Another interesting note--a lot of the scenes from the movie Hook actually come from this book. Also...wow. I haven't seen a body count like this outside of Hamlet.
It's not every year someone writes a story (for children or adults) that has the originality and power that Peter Pan has. Makes me wish more modern writers had the devotion to the sense of wonder that Barrie had. Especially those who write for children.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Book Review: Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
Synopsis: A kid runs away from home and hooks up with a band of mercenaries who then spend the rest of the book killing lots people for reasons not clearly explained. All of this done without the use of quotation marks or commas.
I have now read three novels by Cormac McCarthy, and he's my favorite recently discovered (by me) writer. This book was my least favorite of the three. Of course, when I finished the others, I was somewhat lukewarm until they had marinated in my brain for a few days. Then the genius of the works hit me. Maybe that will be the case again, but I was much more on the cold side of lukewarm upon finishing this book.
The major problem was a lack of direction. We spent lots of time killing indians and carousing, and such, but none of it seemed to be toward any appreciable end. I'm clear that it is an unedited look at the way life really was in during the settling of the west and the aftermath of the Mexican-American war. It's an expose on violence. But it doesn't have a plot.
One of the characters is an enigmatic "Judge" named Holden. I still haven't decided whether he is a personification of war or of violence.
I've read reviews that comment on this book revealing our fathers and their sins. If that was the point, it was lost on me. I don't believe in liberal guilt. I do not believe in reparations of past wrongs. I am not responsible for the sins of my fathers. Neither are my children responsible for my sins. And besides, none of my ancestors were involved in the settlement of the west.
The last few pages, when McCarthy pounds home the point of the book, are absolutely beautiful. If, in a few days, I decide this book is better than I give it credit, it will have been these last pages that did it. McCarthy is a brillient writer and composes some of the most timeless prose. Half of the lyrical passages are what I have come to expect from McCarthy.
The other half left me saying, "What the hell was THAT supposed to be?" I had to reread such passages three or four times to pull ANY meaning from them (even literal). While literary analysis finds no fault with passages that you have to stop to digest, I'm a pragmatic reader and writer. If you have to stop, detach completely from the story, and mull, there's something wrong.
But then again, everything else I've read of McCarthy has appreciated with time. Perhaps this will, too.
I have now read three novels by Cormac McCarthy, and he's my favorite recently discovered (by me) writer. This book was my least favorite of the three. Of course, when I finished the others, I was somewhat lukewarm until they had marinated in my brain for a few days. Then the genius of the works hit me. Maybe that will be the case again, but I was much more on the cold side of lukewarm upon finishing this book.
The major problem was a lack of direction. We spent lots of time killing indians and carousing, and such, but none of it seemed to be toward any appreciable end. I'm clear that it is an unedited look at the way life really was in during the settling of the west and the aftermath of the Mexican-American war. It's an expose on violence. But it doesn't have a plot.
One of the characters is an enigmatic "Judge" named Holden. I still haven't decided whether he is a personification of war or of violence.
I've read reviews that comment on this book revealing our fathers and their sins. If that was the point, it was lost on me. I don't believe in liberal guilt. I do not believe in reparations of past wrongs. I am not responsible for the sins of my fathers. Neither are my children responsible for my sins. And besides, none of my ancestors were involved in the settlement of the west.
The last few pages, when McCarthy pounds home the point of the book, are absolutely beautiful. If, in a few days, I decide this book is better than I give it credit, it will have been these last pages that did it. McCarthy is a brillient writer and composes some of the most timeless prose. Half of the lyrical passages are what I have come to expect from McCarthy.
The other half left me saying, "What the hell was THAT supposed to be?" I had to reread such passages three or four times to pull ANY meaning from them (even literal). While literary analysis finds no fault with passages that you have to stop to digest, I'm a pragmatic reader and writer. If you have to stop, detach completely from the story, and mull, there's something wrong.
But then again, everything else I've read of McCarthy has appreciated with time. Perhaps this will, too.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Book Review: The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman
Synopsis: Lyra returns in the second novel of the His Dark Materials trilogy. This time she is paired with Will Parry, a twelve-year-old from (what is apparently) our world. They work together to procure a special weapon and find Will's father.
I rather like the character of Will Parry. He's the first character to not turn me off within a hundred pages of meeting him. One thing I noticed was that it seems someone told Pullman Lyra wasn't very likable after The Golden Compass came out. He spends a lot of time having secondary characters swear that they'd never met a more noble and wonderful child than Lyra.
Anyway, the major problem the book has is that there is no plot. The children want to get the subtle knife and find Will's father. That's it. There is no climax. There is no rising action. There are two goals, both of which resolve themselves with minimal effort by the protagonists.
The issue of religion is much larger in this book. Before I read the series, one of my friends mentioned that it wasn't anti-religious; it was satanic. I have to agree. We find our characters deciding that when the Authority (God) defeated the rebellious angels, the wrong side won. As I've said before, such a storyline doesn't immediately turn me away. But Pullman's handling is just so dark, cynical, and pedantic. I really would prefer to review this book without discussing the religion, but it's the proverbial 5000 pound elephant. I mean, at one point Ms. Coulter is torturing a witch and says, "In this church we have a thousand years of experience with torture." Everyone who is at all for religion is completely and unabashedly evil.
And that's just plain unbelieveable. One of the characters is a former nun who is now a physicist. She discovers dark matter (or Dust, as Lyra's world calls it) and learns to communicate with it. She quickly learns that the intelligence communicating through the dust belongs to the rebellious angels. Or as he nun training would have phrase it--the Devil. Now, she left the church because of a lack of faith. But when the Devil starts telling her what to do, she doesn't bat an eye. But, then again, she is a good guy, and therefore (apparently) hates God (not just disbelieves).
The major anti-religious/satanic problem with the book is that none of it is original or even well done. Pullman's argument is that God and religion strive to take away all the pleasure of life and control people (why we're never told). And all the conflict and strife of the world is the result of religion. I won't argue that religion doesn't cause strife. It does. But to suggest that it's even the primary cause is simplification ad absurdum. It completely ignores all other political, social, and economic roots.
The story also follows The Golden Compass in poor worldbuilding. The only world that seems at all fleshed out is (surprisingly) our world. The world of Cittagazze, where the subtle knife was forged, is a world of children. Soul-eating Specters haunt the world devouring adults (except where the plot says they shouldn't, at which point they are powerless thralls or oddly absent). This has gone on for three hundred years, we're told. Yet there are still children and perishable foods that the children scavenge.
The witches are one big deus ex machina (Or perhaps it should be lamia ex machina since we are killing God). At one point Lyra exclaims (to the effect of), "Isn't it lucky they showed up just in time to save us!"
Overall, the book left me with a bad taste. None of it sparkled, it had no plot, and what story there was was overburdened by Pullman beating his dead horse with another dead horse.
I rather like the character of Will Parry. He's the first character to not turn me off within a hundred pages of meeting him. One thing I noticed was that it seems someone told Pullman Lyra wasn't very likable after The Golden Compass came out. He spends a lot of time having secondary characters swear that they'd never met a more noble and wonderful child than Lyra.
Anyway, the major problem the book has is that there is no plot. The children want to get the subtle knife and find Will's father. That's it. There is no climax. There is no rising action. There are two goals, both of which resolve themselves with minimal effort by the protagonists.
The issue of religion is much larger in this book. Before I read the series, one of my friends mentioned that it wasn't anti-religious; it was satanic. I have to agree. We find our characters deciding that when the Authority (God) defeated the rebellious angels, the wrong side won. As I've said before, such a storyline doesn't immediately turn me away. But Pullman's handling is just so dark, cynical, and pedantic. I really would prefer to review this book without discussing the religion, but it's the proverbial 5000 pound elephant. I mean, at one point Ms. Coulter is torturing a witch and says, "In this church we have a thousand years of experience with torture." Everyone who is at all for religion is completely and unabashedly evil.
And that's just plain unbelieveable. One of the characters is a former nun who is now a physicist. She discovers dark matter (or Dust, as Lyra's world calls it) and learns to communicate with it. She quickly learns that the intelligence communicating through the dust belongs to the rebellious angels. Or as he nun training would have phrase it--the Devil. Now, she left the church because of a lack of faith. But when the Devil starts telling her what to do, she doesn't bat an eye. But, then again, she is a good guy, and therefore (apparently) hates God (not just disbelieves).
The major anti-religious/satanic problem with the book is that none of it is original or even well done. Pullman's argument is that God and religion strive to take away all the pleasure of life and control people (why we're never told). And all the conflict and strife of the world is the result of religion. I won't argue that religion doesn't cause strife. It does. But to suggest that it's even the primary cause is simplification ad absurdum. It completely ignores all other political, social, and economic roots.
The story also follows The Golden Compass in poor worldbuilding. The only world that seems at all fleshed out is (surprisingly) our world. The world of Cittagazze, where the subtle knife was forged, is a world of children. Soul-eating Specters haunt the world devouring adults (except where the plot says they shouldn't, at which point they are powerless thralls or oddly absent). This has gone on for three hundred years, we're told. Yet there are still children and perishable foods that the children scavenge.
The witches are one big deus ex machina (Or perhaps it should be lamia ex machina since we are killing God). At one point Lyra exclaims (to the effect of), "Isn't it lucky they showed up just in time to save us!"
Overall, the book left me with a bad taste. None of it sparkled, it had no plot, and what story there was was overburdened by Pullman beating his dead horse with another dead horse.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Book Review: Shock by Robin Cook
Synopsis: Two Harvard PhD candidates decide to sell some of their eggs so they can get away from their tiresome lives and finish their theses. After returning from an extended trip, they decide to find out what happened to their eggs. They find themselves neck deep in a scheme involving cloning.
I have to say it's nice to read a thriller where the author obviously knows science. The story was interesting but never really turned into suspense for me. If I hadn't come up with the template I started using a few reviews ago, my log line for this book would have been: "Two ditzy Harvard PhDs confront ruthless geneticists."
And there we get the problem: The protagonists are so awkward in their investigation that the villains have to be stupid not to know what's going on. And so the tension doesn't really develop. So it's a thriller by genre, but it doesn't give me the edge-of-the-seat feel of a thriller. And the ending wasn't quite deus ex machina, but it was close. Though it lacks a true climax and all but sparce denouement.
Style-wise it's obvious that Cook's training is in medicine, not writing. His primary issues are said bookisms ("It's true," she avered. "No, it's not," he asserted. "Stop fighting with me!" she ejaculated. etc...) and a wandering point of view that can't decide to whom it belongs.
Oh yeah, that reminds me. "A very lot." Really? "A VERY lot." I can see that sounding good to Cook (I find things like that in my own work, sometimes), but you'd think someone would have said something before it was published. Maybe they did.
Despite its faults, it was a decent read.
I have to say it's nice to read a thriller where the author obviously knows science. The story was interesting but never really turned into suspense for me. If I hadn't come up with the template I started using a few reviews ago, my log line for this book would have been: "Two ditzy Harvard PhDs confront ruthless geneticists."
And there we get the problem: The protagonists are so awkward in their investigation that the villains have to be stupid not to know what's going on. And so the tension doesn't really develop. So it's a thriller by genre, but it doesn't give me the edge-of-the-seat feel of a thriller. And the ending wasn't quite deus ex machina, but it was close. Though it lacks a true climax and all but sparce denouement.
Style-wise it's obvious that Cook's training is in medicine, not writing. His primary issues are said bookisms ("It's true," she avered. "No, it's not," he asserted. "Stop fighting with me!" she ejaculated. etc...) and a wandering point of view that can't decide to whom it belongs.
Oh yeah, that reminds me. "A very lot." Really? "A VERY lot." I can see that sounding good to Cook (I find things like that in my own work, sometimes), but you'd think someone would have said something before it was published. Maybe they did.
Despite its faults, it was a decent read.
Friday, February 1, 2008
New Content and Feeds
I'll be rolling out a new feature called "A Lone Voice" tonight. It's basically where I will be spouting my views about subjects in which my opinion is (apparently) the minority (or perhaps unique). This is where you will find (possibly regularly) rants about how bad a writer William Faulkner was, how overrated a season Winter is, and where insurance adjusters can go (though, that's probably not a rare opinion). Basically, you can use it as a barometer to know when I've come off my meds (actually, I'm not on any) or should probably be put on them. Forcibly.
Any of you who subscribe to this blog by feed (hopefully someone's doing that or this Lone Voice is echoing in an empty room) can choose to subscribe by Labels. So you can receive only my Book Reviews by citing your subscription feed as:
http://jmpeltier.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/-/Book Review
You can similarly subscribe to only "A Lone Voice" or perhaps "Faulkner" by subsituting them for "Book Review" in the line above. I'll try to keep up with my labels. If you have any suggestions for future labels either email me or leave a comment.
Any of you who subscribe to this blog by feed (hopefully someone's doing that or this Lone Voice is echoing in an empty room) can choose to subscribe by Labels. So you can receive only my Book Reviews by citing your subscription feed as:
http://jmpeltier.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default/-/Book Review
You can similarly subscribe to only "A Lone Voice" or perhaps "Faulkner" by subsituting them for "Book Review" in the line above. I'll try to keep up with my labels. If you have any suggestions for future labels either email me or leave a comment.
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