The Novel of Spirtual Education

The Golden Compass is at a glance a re-examination of world building. Taking our preconceptions and twisting them (Dust, dæmons, airships, and "Gyptians," not at all how we see them). There are kingdoms, a magical compass, and mighty armored bears. But upon closer inspection, we can deduce that it's really just a book about a horrible little girl who begins her journey by being selfish and lying about her life. Of course, as her character develops, she becomes more wholesome, but It never really settled with me. This is a book, to me, that critiques the complicated world in which we live, and postulates how we must all put up our own battles to conquer the harsh realities of life in our own ways. This is made obvious by the incredibly dense plot that is somewhat hard to follow (as with how we begrudgingly come to discover the true nature of our own world) that is combined with characters who must overcome their own trials and tribulations in order to allow for their lives to go on. My favorite example of this is Iorek, who has inadvertently traded what is most important to him for the temptations of alcohol, and must essentially overcome addiction (in a way) to function like a normal... armored bear prince... would. More so, Lyra constantly struggles with who she should trust, what she should do, and most importantly, who she actually is. In that respect, as unlovable as she is, she represents what is most important in our own lives: ourselves. Indeed, she is not only the most important person in her mind (for a long while, if not for the entire book) but she is also literally one of the most important people in the world various worlds. Important to note also is the notion of dæmons, as well as the armor worn by creatures like Iorek, which as stated represent our souls, our drives. Those without this drive suffer and die, while those who grow with it will watch it grow with them (settling down at the same rate humans do). It's an interesting principle, and one can assume Pullman is a huge believer in choosing one's own fate. These creatures can be physically seen, manipulated, and turn the idea that we have no say in the world on it's head.

This was a long read. I'm not going to pretend that I didn't end up just glazing over parts of it, and so I have no problem saying it was too girthy. It establishes this fantastic, bizarre universe very quickly and never really drops pace. It has lore and science, neither of which we would be familiar with. When relating it to our own world, you have to take what you know and ignore it, focusing on what you don't know in order to relate. There is a lot to be learned about ourselves in reading this. I just wish I had been more serious about analyzing it, while slogging through it instead. I'll be sure to watch the movie one of these days I guess.

The Heroic Journey

I read The Hobbit as a kid. I wasn't really psyched to pick it up again as an adult. I remember it being boring and drawn out, especially in the beginning. In fact, I distinctly remember asking myself why the tea party in the beginning took so long to end. Am I contesting that Tolkien isn't a fantastic writer? Not at all. He's just more interested in this book than I ever could be. Upon a more recent inspection I discover that this book is, in fact, pretty boring. Not as bad as I remember (the few fight scenes are pretty cool, and I forgot how awesome the ring itself was as a side-story, along with Smeeeeagol/Gollum) but, I attest, still pretty boring. However, this is the first genuine piece of fantasy that a lot of readers in the world become familiar with for good reason. He has established the living habits of a number of different races and species, and has created through the text a subtle nuance that ties everything together in one way or another. A staple, if you will. His world is absolutely believable, and as far as being a precursor to what is perhaps the greatest fantasy trilogy of all time (or so I'm told, but can believe), I would say it sets the mood fantastically.

Having seen the Lord of the Rings (not read, yet) I feel like this book almost doesn't exist in the same realm. It lacked the epic-ness of it's predecessors, in a lot of ways, but it had to I suppose. After all, it's a bunch of old bearded men traveling together. That can't be too much more exciting than it sounds, can it? (It actually is more exciting than that.) Bilbo registers as almost forgettable compared to Frodo and Gandalf and... some of the other characters. I guess a lot of them are forgettable. But his descriptions of the world, of the cultures, of the languages and settings, that's where the magic in his work lies. That is what made it worth finishing a second time. Quite probably, a last time.

Aside: In this illustration, I used the original pallet swatches for the animated Hobbit movie. Really pretty bad.

J-Horror: Japanese Narratives of the Supernatural

I would like to think I'm already fairly familiar with J-Horror. I've seen The Ring (which makes me an expert, right?) and have read the full body of works by Junji Ito (not at all for the faint of heart, but Uzumaki and Gyo are nice places to start if you haven't read either) among other authors and movies. I had read Kafka on the Rocks by Haruki Murakami back when I was pretty obsessed with anything that had anything to do with Franz Kafka (which, as it turns out, had nothing to do with him) but A Wild Sheep Chase was new to me. On a relative note, it reminded me quite a lot of Franz Kafka's work, in the sense that it dealt with a character who has no identity who becomes more and more estranged with the strange, initially awful world around him. But it just becomes so surreal that it breaches that realm entirely and just becomes... nigh-esoteric. Or, perhaps it wasn't at all. But if the story wasn't arbitrary, then I feel like I missed something important (probably because I'm not, nor have I ever been, Japanese).

All the same, this I felt was in interesting choice to have listed as the primary piece of reading for J-Horror week, since it didn't at all read as a traditional horror novel, withholding many elements visible in the previous readings. It feels maybe more like a fantasy novel, but I suppose it lurches between the two realms. Tacking on in that fashion, and as the title implies, it's something of a mystery novel too. On the other hand, it was rather dark and... rather morose in a number of ways, so I suppose it must qualify as horror. The writing style reminded me a lot of his Kafka on the Shore piece, so I'm glad I had that inadvertant introduction. It beckons me to read whatever else has been translated, as my Japanese is about as good as my Klingon. I've never watched Star Trek. As an aside, I really loved the humor in this and his other novel. Dry, cheap laughs. My favorite.

UPDATE: Sorry I missed class this day. I was genuinely too ill to stick around. I feel like I must have missed something wildly interesting and sincerely wish I could have made it.

Vampires

I've never been a HUGE fan of Anne Rice. Until now, I assumed I hadn't been missing out on anything in particular (after all, the hype associated with her work is comparable to a certain other contemporary vampire fiction writer whose infame precedes her, and whose name isn't worth actually writing out). But boy-oh-boy, I was wrong. I can understand why people get so caught up in her works. Religious spectacles aside, Rice is a phenomenal writer who develops genuinely interesting characters with genuinely interesting stories. Even the outline for the rather lengthy first book in this series, 'a vampire is being interviewed,' is a wonderfully unique approach to a piece of fiction (and that theme is expanded upon rather uniquely, itself). I love that she plays up the dynamic between the Loius and Lestat, giving them an almost uncomfortably developing relationship that saws back and fourth, and the involvement of what I picture as a surrogate child (who is burned alive! in a wonderfully edgy and probably controversial move on her part).

I wonder, reading this, what sorts of deviations were made from original vampiric myths (a quick Google search yields many results about origins and myths, so I really couldn't say without more research), but I would love to know. My proposing this stems from the earlier Frankenstein reading, and having seen before hand how that had grown and mutated. At what point did vampires go from being ugly and sort of bat-like, unable to enter doors without permission, to being sexually confused (clearly, in this book) beautiful objects of desire, to glittery unicorn wannabes with psychic/unique powers? (Don't get me started.) I'm thankful she didn't decide to include were-wolves in this. But I digress. Rice resigns the writing with a cliffhanger, which entices me to go on to her next piece of work, but I shan't. Not until I've got a bit more free time, I don't think. All the same, I do see I have been missing out on a fantastic body of work that has earned its' keep in the world of fictional vampire writings (as opposed, as I'm sure you're very familiar with, to non-fictional vampire writings). Haha.

The vampire pictured is neither of the protagonists. I felt like drawing someone cooler than Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise. Someone like Count Orlok. So yeah.

Monsters and Zombies

I'm just going to start with this: Ho-ly-shit. What a great read. This is the first zombie-themed writing I've really immersed myself in (I did, however, enjoy Max Brooks' Zombie Survival Guide, and I'm sure I'd love his World War Z book too) but this blog-style book really drew me in, particularly with its' leading zombie character, Gary. Yes, it was simple writing, yes it was almost (almost!) predictable in many ways, but I loved the tension and the fear Wellington manages to bring to his writing. He has an interesting attention to detail, and the incorporation of the female Somalian soldiers and the almost out of place mummy theme was interesting (Africa certainly crawls into America one way or another). Disregarding that, I felt the ending was as appropriate as possible, the looming onset of zombie-dom taking over our until recently quite humble protagonist, while he scripts his tragic memiors to a captive audience (at least, I was captivated). Beautiful. I wonder if all zombie novels are written to be as epic as possible (it makes sense, certainly) but I know a lot of them just... fall short? Pride and Prejudice and Zombies seemed gimmickey and I really hate every zombie movie I've ever seen, aside from Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland. Though, honestly, I don't know how many zombie fliques I've seen in the grand scheme of things.

I would love to know how the next two books pan out. Dekalb and all the characters of real interest are dead (or undead), and I'm almost itching to read what comprises a sequel. So few people are left in the world as it stands, it would be interesting to see how the story develops. But at the rate of reading a book a week in this class, I'm probably going to just stick those on the back-burner for now. This weeks reading felt more like a horror to me than did last week's Frankenstein, though the content is much the same, in that the 'bad guys' are either reanimated or scientists. Or, in the one case, both. I'm still not quite over Gary's general awesomeness.