The Final Frontier

For the record, and to start, not a quick drawing. But worthwhile!

Though the previous weeks' read had elements of science in it, this book is the first real voyage into the world of science fiction for the class (well, unless you count Frankenstein, I guess). As far as sci-fi is concerned, this one is really incredibly rich in speculation. He is, at the beginning of the story, just a man (more-or-less), like anyone else. Through a set of circumstances, he is abandoned and left for dead. The audience is able to relate to his loneliness, his developing hatred, and eventually, his potential for revenge. As he wanders, so too do we, in a universe with potential to make us both happy and miserable, his life is victimized by circumstance more often than not. Throughout much of the book, he seems to be encouraged to be cruel, angry, and otherwise primal. He seems for some while to be the darkest part of our souls, the beast waiting to get out and take what it wants, how ever it wants to. Until, of course, he manages to meet himself quite literally.

The book introduces a very cool concept called jaunting, where Gully and a very few others can manage to travel at first through space, and then time. I feel like this is a vessel Bester uses in order to have us try to confront ourselves in a less literal way. Our lead acts with anger because he has been wronged. He was wronged because he couldn't be trusted by strangers, though he was clearly in need of help after his ship had crashed. Negative feelings and emotions topple one another over and over, person by person, creating a disdain that would otherwise be insurmountable, were it not for his new unique and rather profound vantage point. In this simple manner, though circling a wild plot the entire time, he gains some sentience that changes his perception entirely. He reveals in us our own malice, and exemplifies its inconquerableness, making it painfully obvious that we're either going to have to accept one another or kill ourselves over preconceptions, using a powerful explosive that, while this was written in the 50's mind you, rings a dark bell even for the modern day. The beauty of this book is in the ending, where all speculation is cut short and what is revealed as the solution is an uncolonized planet that can only be lived on if you believe in peace and harmony, (as is the secret of his power to move through time and space) the ultimatum of which being a fate beyond the control of any one person. Thinking about this a little more, it is perhaps the author's way of begging us to step back, and to colonize not anew, but differently. To face our demons with bravado, and our enemies with warmth. Which... would make sense, I guess. In that respect, the audience (reader) could 'jaunt' with ease, and could find harmony.

It's a story of revenge turned into a story about acceptance. As flowery as that must sound, it was a fantastically entertaining read through. Good show.

Emerging Directions in Traditional Fantasy

Another long, long read! Though I recognize the world building is actually not too different from the Golden Compass, what with the bizarre interpretations of Breath (not too unlike Dust, eh?) and otherwise the use of kingdoms and magic, this read was more enjoyable (to me). Maybe because it was more simple, if only slightly. Or maybe because I've played World of Warcraft and enjoyed it, if only for a couple weeks. As discussed in class, this is basically how any fantasy video game would function if written into a book. There is a heavy emphasis on this collectible substance, the good guys, the bad guys, and if you're into things like World of Warcraft, there are a number of story lines to choose from too, though the cover of the book is of one of the two princess sisters (I can't decide which), it is a read that pays attention to at least four people in detail. It's an intricate book that really has a lot going on, but I suppose its primary focus is on Breath, what is gained from it, and why it should be reviled. On top of this, there is a lot of cheap humor, juxtaposed with a few great lines.

Arguably the most interesting thing to me about this book (apart from the hilarious and intriguing Lightsong) is the relationship the two sisters, Vivenna and Siri, share. Their places are switched close to the beginning of the novel when Vivenna's long-planned marriage to a God is unexpectedly passed on to the younger Siri. In this way, before they are really even truly established, their roles are reversed. This is more-or-less a common theme in the world of Warbreaker, the manner in which many of the characters develop, and the numerous red herrings used to allow for these changes to happen. Perhaps these inconsistencies are indicative of our inherent hypocrisies, or of our maturity (whatever maturity means to you). In some cases, it might be acting tough in order to save those you care about. In others, perhaps it is pretending to be nice in order to rule the world. All just typical themes in this book. But continuing on my earlier musing, I think it's interesting how the two princesses always seem to be opposing one another, one more adept with magic, the other still learning, one rather tomboyish, the other somewhat timid. Of course, given the nature of this book, I could be referring to either of them with those descriptions. Hence, why it's an interesting relationship they share.

Religion in this book plays a more pivotal role than it does in the Golden Compass, which focused more on the corruption of the church than any God/s. Gods and kings in Warbreaker work on a level only imagined by, say, the Egyptians. Also as in the polytheistic peoples' beliefs, Warbreaker manages to make zombies (though not mummies) a believable theme. Among other things, like lesser gods, mysterious male leads, and characters with (questionably) questionable intent, it's got a lot going on. To relate this book to social politics is difficult, but it was a very enjoyable, twisty, and pseudo-scientifically fascinating read.

Mythic Fiction and Contemporary Urban Fantasy

How can you not love Neil Gaiman? Before this it had been Good Omens, Sandman (courtesy of your Comic Literature class), and Coraline for me. I was more than happy to tack on another book from his mind to my list of have-reads. My first real impression of this book was how it really read like an epic myth. I'm reminded of the stories I know through Greek and Roman mythology, in such these beings, these gods, caught up in the minutiae of the every day, effecting the people around them in great ways. Though I feel this sort of theme is a bit subdued, I also recognize typical mythical elements. (For example, Fat Charlie just accepting that he now has a brother named Spider, a sort of matter-of-fact transition that might be found in, say, The Oddysey. More pertinent to my point, the interesting magic behind the animated clay spiders or the bizarre action of having one's tongue stolen - far from typical fantasy.) Yet they are not Greek or Roman. They are African myths. Or so it's implied; I can't really say I know any genuine African mythology. The gods being named after animals is the first clue to divert from typified thought surrounding myth.

As a book, it's classically Gaiman. (Whatever that means.) Filled with humor, strange triumph with all the depressing story to finally build up to it, and sublimely bizarre and original, this is not typical of any other authors I can name immediately. Like any of his other work, it's hard to put down, and it's surprisingly easy, pleasurable reading. As diverse as his characters and plots are, he has a real penchant for keeping things simple. I think that must be a big appeal in his work. To that end, it's interesting to compare him to writers like Tolkien; as stated in class he refuses to know the formula to a typical Heroic Journey, so the outcomes and the journeys of his own characters feel significantly less forced, less implied. There must be a lot of underlying appeal to his work. He is hugely successful for a reason.

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.