Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Growing Up Literary

Occasionally, even though I know I should be reading new things, I re-read books that I find really enjoyable. Naamah's Kiss, by Jacqueline Carey, and indeed, Carey's whole Terre d'Ange series, are such books. And since Naamah's Kiss isn't mine but borrowed, and I know that eventually I will need to bring it back, I read it again. And there was nothing to be done except that I needed to read the Kushiel books again, too. I've now run out of those that I have in my home, and I needed something to read until I banished enough laziness to go to the library, so I picked up Exile's Honor by Mercedes Lackey. I own many of Lackey's Valdemar books, because for a long time they were my go-to fantasy books. They were fun, the characters were believable, and the stories were entertaining. Which is why I was SO distressed to realize that I may, in fact, have outgrown them.

The two series, Kushiel's Legacy and The Heralds of Valdemar, are similarly flavored. They are roughly historical fantasy, although Kushiel emphasizes the history and Valdemar has a stronger vein of magic. The main characters are usually strong women, in an elite profession, and political intrigue is a main component. I did not realize until today that Carey is essentially Lackey for grownups.

Carey's prose achieves a sophistication that Lackey doesn't, but I don't mean to say that Lackey is a less talented writer; she is writing for a younger crowd, and her stories are less layered. Carey has a larger cast of characters for whom each role is more clearly defined. Lackey is less concerned with the complexities than Carey, and as such, the Valdemar books are easier to follow and easier to read. Her characters are more transparent and easier to understand; they lack the necessity for further motivation than what's on the surface. Which made them good, easy comfort books in high school, but slightly boring now.

I feel kinda like when I moved from Tamora Pierce to Mercedes Lackey - it is weird to figure out that I am no longer an author's target audience. The good thing, though, is that there are ALWAYS more books to pick from. And I look forward to discovering where I'll go from Carey.

But I'm not in a hurry to get there, because I've still got four of her books to re-read.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Adaptations

In this day and age, it certainly seems like Hollywood can't think up an original idea to save its glittery life. Book-to-movie adaptations are riddling the screen, and are all too often dismissed by literary types because "it'll never be as good as the book." While this is true 98% of the time (I mean, have you READ Jaws? Christ.) it isn't quite fair to the movie makers - books and film are two completely different media. I feel like the mark of a good adaptation is not necessarily complete faithfulness to the source material, because let's face it, that's impossible. A good adaptation is a film that retains the feeling of the book, that captures the intent of the story. It may have to be told in a different fashion, and things will always get left out because of time and visual constraints - what works on paper does not always work on the screen. But this doesn't mean that the movie is wrong, or less valid than the book.

In my lifetime, I have known several truly great adaptations. Jumanji, while a brilliant film and excellent book, is not one of them - I argue that the film uses the book simply as a jumping off point to explore a really neat idea (a boardgame that affects reality). There's so much of the film that was never in the children's book that, at most, the film was inspired by, rather than based off, the book.

Which leads me to my central point: my top five book-to-film adaptations, as based on my opinion and what I described above.

5. A Clockwork Orange
Visually, this film is terrifying, and that's what it had to be. It took the nigh-incomprehensible semantics of the book, which read so twisty and sinister, and spins them into a nightmare landscape whose only real "flaw" is the non-inclusion of the final moments. I happen to think the film ends on a much more haunting note, where the book is perhaps a touch unrealistically uplifting. Alex is much more compelling when he's irredeemable. The "conditioning," scary enough when isolated to print, becomes utterly horrifying when visualized (talk about things you can never unsee), and on the whole the film visually captures the political and social turmoil in a truly excellent way.

4. Coraline
I've already done this comparison, but as a recap: Gaiman's sparse, Victorian story telling puts this gothic fairytale into clear relief, which the film illuminates with brilliant color and breathtaking animation. The few changes the filmmakers made only added to the eerieness of the whole picture, making the two pieces good companions to each other.

3. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
In my personal opinion, absolutely the best Potter movie that's been made so far (including Half-Blood Prince). Ironically, it's also my least favorite book - all of those long, long pages of Harry suffering teenage angst are remarkably well taken care of in one camera shot. This film also continues the Potter tradition of fantastic casting, with Natalia Tena (Nymphadora Tonks), Imelda Staunton (Dolores Umbridge), and Evanna Lynch (Luna Lovegood) positively stealing their scenes with their perfect embodiments. Lynch as the spacey, goggle-eyed Luna was one of my very favorites. The film showed the darkness descending on the magical world in an exciting way, and made way more of the final battle in the Ministry than I thought they ever could.

2. The Last Unicorn
I couldn't decide whether or not to include this, because it's animated, and then I thought, "why not? I'm making these rules anyway." This happens to be my very favorite book anyway, so one could argue that my standards are higher - and boy, does this deliver. The animation is reminiscent of Miyazaki without being derivative; it is ethereal when it needs to be and earthy, full of emotion. The voice talent is unparalleled, and Christopher Lee as the bitter old King is neither shocking nor disappointing. Angela Lansbury is also brilliant as Mommy Fortuna; the only weak link in the cast is Mia Farrow who plays the Unicorn herself. The film is sweet, sad, and nostalgic in all the right places, just as the novel is; it's a fairytale that reminds us there's magic in the world while hitting bittersweetly.

1. The Lord of the Rings trilogy
I know people who flat out refused to see these films. Because they knew Peter Jackson would never be able to encompass the whole of Tolkien's vision, and because they were terrified that parts they loved (Tom Bombadil) wouldn't make the final edit, they skipped out rather than see something they loved trimmed down and changed for a different audience. Try as I might, I can't get them to understand that this isn't a re-do of Tolkien's fantasy classic, and it's not pretending to do the same things the books do - it CAN'T. But what it did do, I think, was perhaps even more important than that.

The Lord of the Rings (I may be cheating by putting all three films into one bullet point, but it's my blog and I can do what I want) was a cinematic masterpiece. Jackson did something with film that absolutely no one had been able to do before: he internalized a classic story and translated it, slimming it down to the essential plot points and visualizing them in an effective and breathtaking manner. He narrowed the focus, but not the vision; just because you do not get to meet Tom Bombadil doesn't mean you miss out on the fear and uncertainty the hobbits face when setting out from the Shire. It truly encompasses everything that I loved about the books; the tense action and drama of the war, the futility and dystopia of Mordor and Frodo's quest, and the relationships and brotherhoods, love stories and companionships that have been repeated and reused through literary history. They are monuments of film to monuments of literature.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Writing within pre-created universes

Today, I am urging you to do something that might seem a little odd. Scary, perhaps. Or worse yet, a waste of time. But believe me when I say that this is absolutely in your best interest.

Indulge your inner nerd and read a book based off an RPG. Or a video game. Or a war game.

I am absolutely, one hundred percent serious about this. I am currently absorbed in book two of The Eisenhorn Trilogy, a set of books by Dan Abnett based in the WarHammer 40K universe. Gregor Eisenhorn is one of the most frustrating literary characters I have ever encountered, because fundamentally he is a character I want to loathe: as an Inquisitor working for the vast, lumbering Empire he is licensed to do whatever he has to in order to root out heretics, aliens, rogue psychics, and anything else conceived to be a threat to humanity. This includes torture, murder, genocide, and liberal doses of intrigue and info-gathering. Despite all of this, because Eisenhorn is good at his job and immersed up to his elbows in things I find involuntarily repulsive, I DO like him. He's intensely loyal, good to his friends, perceptive and honorable in the Inquisitor way. And as my astute boyfriend has pointed out numerous times, when the alternative to martial law is Chaos and hellfire, the Spanish Inquisition doesn't look too bad.

The Eisenhorn Trilogy so far is entertaining, fascinating from a science fiction and anthropological point of view, and a pretty quick read. You could definitely do worse. Like read Grendel, God forbid. And since I'm pretty much a quintessential nerd, here are a couple other game-based books that I think are fun, interesting, and very entertaining:

Clan War, books 1-7 (Book One: The Scorpion)
By various authors
Based on the RPG Legend of the Five Rings
Why I liked it, and why you probably will too: The L5R RPG is one of the most engaging settings I've ever played, if only for the sheer variety of possibilities that are laid out with almost no difficult thinking on the player's part. The setting is frenetically Asiatic, and the world is clan based with each clan embodying specific characteristics (the Scorpion are sneaky bastards that might poison you, the Lion are unbearably noble and hard-headed, so on and so forth). The Clan War books move through one traumatic event in the L5R setting that shows the best and worst of each clan, while also giving the reader a sample of the history and characters embedded in the setting. They're fun, the characters are fascinating, and the way in which the events of the books interweaves with the fluff in the player's books is artfully done.

Dragons of A Fallen Sun One in a string of books based on Dungeons and Dragons
By Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman
Why I liked it, and why you will too:
I will be painfully honest here and admit that I have never read the first handful of Dragonlance novels. I tried to get through Dragons of Autumn Twilight about four times before giving up out of boredom. But Fallen Sun is starkly exciting: the main character is a very Joan of Arc-like figure, young and waifish and absolutely fearless. There is a heavy twang of religious fervor hanging around on the pages, that gives even the happy moments a gray wash of fear. I haven't read the books that come after (there are two in the same continuity) but I think I'd like to - Mina, the girl pictured on the cover, performs miracles and gathers soldiers to her side as easily as breathing, and I'm interested to see how her story turns out.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Fairytales

I've just emerged from a long, long period of frantic paper writing, project completion, and the culmination of commencement. I'm no longer soon-to-be-graduating, I am an official college graduate. While this is not an excuse for not posting anything in over a month, it....well, yes, it is an excuse. But bear with me.

John Connolly, in addition to writing very entertaining mystery novels, also writes brilliantly good, dark, edgy fantasy. Today I'm going to tell you why you should go and read his novel, The Book of Lost Things.



The Book of Lost Things is everything a modern fairytale should be. Its main character, David, is a young boy who is neither insipidly precocious nor idiotically naive. He is smart, introverted, and suffers from an abruptly destroyed family when his mother dies from illness. When his father remarries and has the audacity to have another son with the new wife, David escapes into the fantasy of books and an unkempt, sunken garden in the back of the house his father moves them into.

What follows is an adventure worthy of the Grimm Brothers, as David is transported into a fairyworld that takes every expectation you might have and turns it on its ear. Connolly cunningly takes basic fairytale tropes and twists them unexpectedly at the very last minute, leaving you on your toes through the whole novel. The combination of that vein of familiriaty coupled with Connolly's own imagination means that the ending, while somewhat predictable, is still profound and will leave you thoroughly satisfied.

The Book of Lost Things has several winning components: an endearing, likeable, and realistic main character, a frightening and sadistic villain, and an engaging story. I'm about to start Connolly's book of short fiction, Nocturnes, and I'll let you know how that is posthaste.

Monday, April 6, 2009

So, I apparently misinformed you - Swallowing Darkness is not, in fact, the last Merry Gentry novel. I should have known, really... Hamilton knows a cash cow when she sees one, and she's hardly going to abandon this if she won't let poor Anita Blake rest in peace. So. Divine Misdemeanors, this coming October. I'd like to tell you I won't be reading it, as it's a lurid young adult fantasy novel, but let's be honest. I'm going to devour it in three hours and then tell you how awful it is, while secretly loving every adjective-filled page.


I just finished Kushiel's Mercy, the sixth (and I think final) book in Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Legacy series, and I was blown away. I always thought Imriel was a more interesting character than Phedre, and this...this makes Phedre's third story look TAME. Carey rips her world to pieces and slowly puts it back together, in a way that is continually surprising and ultimately satsifying. Definitely a must for those fans of the series.

Also recently I read the novel Kartography, by Kamila Shamsie. This novel is beautiful, complicated, frustrating.... My initial impression was that I liked it quite a bit. On reflection, I can say with some confidence that the overall impression the book leaves you with is one of beauty. It's a lovely book, interweaving the stories of a family during 1971 West Pakistan, during the conflict with East Pakistan that resulted in the formation of Bangladesh, and Karachi in the 1990s (in West Pakistan). Shamsie creates two intertwining families that weave in and out of each other as the parents try to deal with their choices in 1971 and the children try to understand why it affectes them now.

While Raheen and Karim, the offspring in question, are interesting to observe, the real meat of the story is in the events of 1971, when their parents engaged in what they call "the finace swap" - Raheen's father and Karim's mother were originally engaged to each other, while Raheen's mother and Karim's father were engaged, and then in the unraveling you come to understand why they swapped. This was the story that caught my attention, and I could have used more time devoted to it - not that events were lacking, but...the modern day stuff just wasn't as hanging-by-a-thread fascinating.

Raheen is a frustrating narrator because of how much she doubts herself and the people around her, how stubborn she is, how obtuse....Raheen is a very, very realistic narrator, and even though there were times I didn't like her necessarily, I always cared about her.

It's a bleeding heart novel, and most assuredly a romance, but neither of those are bad things. I recommend it, purely for the knot it offers the reader to untangle.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Chapter Six: Odds and Ends

I haven't ACTUALLY finished reading anything since I reviewed The Brief History of the Dead, but I did want to make a couple of notes on some things I'm in the process of reading, and I think you should, too.

Gunnerkrigg Court by Tom Siddell: Ah, the wide and wonderful world of webcomics. Why do I like this one? Well, for one thing, the art is beautiful. It's almost cubist in nature - the angles are kind of boxy, things are a little pointy, and the whole visual scheme has a very post-modern, surrealist feel to it. But more than that, the art is whimsical and pretty; it's not vibrantly colored, but the palate is varied enough that it's always interesting to look at. Unlike a lot of comics, there isn't a huge chasm between the quality of the art in the first strips and the quality now. It has improved, but it was never bad.

The story arcs are fabulous. The whole story is set in a Western European boarding school situated across from a forest (think the Forbidden Forest from Harry Potter), and each arc contains an interesting fantasy story artfully entwined with the daily ministrations of main character Antimony, a student at the school. Tom's awareness of his characters' ages, and how they react to situations and still manage to worry about their homework (in a very non-trite fashion) is incredibly endearing. Each arc builds to its own crescendo and wraps itself up neatly, while also continuing to build on the ongoing plot and character developments.

Where Gunnerkrigg Court really pulls its own is in the characters. It has a very large cast, with members fluctuating in and out of storylines, but each one is very distinct and unique. They're all easily identifiable and enjoyable to read about, and each supporting cast member seems carefully chosen for their roles in the stories - they all serve a purpose. The main cast, Antimony and her constant companions Kat and Reynnard the demon, become more complex and interesting with every page.

OK, now that I've waxed poetic about a webcomic for way too long, I'd like to talk briefly about an intriguing wiki a friend of mine sent me called The Holders Series.

The Holders Series is trying really, really hard to be a post-modern, gothic horror story on par with House of Leaves. Visually, it resembles a wiki page, with a News front page and all the pices listed as articles after the introductory article. The general gist of the story is that there are a certain number of objects (538, but this appears to be mutable) that, if gathered together, something TERRIBLE and AWFUL will happen. Each object is currently in the possession of a Holder, and the Seeker (an individual who, for some unknown reason, is questing for all of the objects) must pass a set of trials and face the Holder; if the Seeker is successful, the object passes into their hands. If not, we are repeatedly told throughout each piece that insanity or some horrifying death awaits them.

The concept is interesting, and has the makings to be a pretty interesting story (I'm through maybe 50 of the short pieces). The problem is sort of inherent in the set-up: The Holders Series is almost mind-numbingly repetative. There is a set of guidelines for would-be authors (anyone can submit a Holders piece to be included, which presumably then goes through a selection process), which is something in itself that I support, but which places more limits on the potential pieces than I think the creators intended. Every single piece, for example, begins with the lines "In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house in you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself 'The Holder of '." "Mental institution or halfway house" are occasionally substituted for a morgue, or hospital (or a hardware store, in one of the more unique ones). So far, every single piece is written in second person. But my biggest issue is the repetatition of the trials the Seeker is intended to face.

There simply aren't enough synonyms for "insanity" to make it a more interesting by-product of failure. There are only so many hellhounds one can be chased by. In a huge number of these, there is a sound described as part of the background noise, and God forbid it should ever stop - something is guaranteed to rip the Seeker to pieces, or cause him to go insane, or something of that nature. Don't ever look at the walls! Don't look in their eyes! Don't sit down, don't stop walking! It's as though every individual who wrote one of these had the same idea for a mind-rending horror, and used it over and over again. After a while (and remember, I'm on 50 out of 538) it gets tiresome rather than horrifying.

So why am I still reading? The places where the authors' creativity really shines is in the objects themselves; they can be anything. Each one also has a bit of a tagline after it, a warning or somesuch - these are fun to read and make for neat little conclusions to the pieces. And, I suppose, I'm waiting for someone to break out of the box and write something that will really make my skin crawl. I'll keep you posted.