Books: Reif Larsen: The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet

This book has been receiving a fair bit of media attention at the moment. It is published next month and the hype is mounting. The book is about a 12-year-old genius with a penchant for cartography and I'm sure the story must be a good one as it sold for over $1m US at auction. From the view of a collector, this looks like an interesting item and possibly a good investment. I'm told that the book, much like Steven Hall's Raw Shark Texts is illustrated throughout, but not in the usual manner, rather it has margin illustrations and other unusual diagrammatica. There is a limited edition appearing in the UK, in one of the major chains.

Film Review: Belleville Rendez-vous

This French film (directed by Sylvain Chomet) has always roused my curiosity. The animation style reminded me of the kind of art work that was always on late night Channel Four programs in the early nineties (I seem to remember an program called Animation Now). It was different, exaggerated and comic. There were even some ventures into an entirely different style for the occasional interstice. This widely-respected film, however, didn't quite sit well with me. There were parts of it that disgusted me on some level, the buttock-like calf muscles that made me grimace each time I looked, the disgusting meal the characters ate consisting of stewed frogs, the excessively obese pet dog - all grotesque. I think it's perhaps just me looking subjectively, rather than with a critic's eye, but occasionally animation makes me feel ill (Fritz the cat did similar). It may be some deep-seated psychological issue I have with abstraction of human physiology, but it's not something I'm interested in exploring; I'd rather just turn a blind eye. So I cut this film short, partly for the above reason, or perhaps instigated by the above, but also because it was boring. I'm no expert in animation, but I'm not sure what was so great about this - the exaggeration of physical characteristics? But isn't that what most art does. In conclusion, I cannot recommend this film, however iconic the scenes of the protagonists climbing a near-vertical hill may be.

Book Review: Jonathan Barnes: The Somnambulist

I'm not entirely sure what drew me to this book or even if I'd heard of it before I bought it, but I'm sure it was probably the cover and the title. And the cover reeked of Victoriana - it was in the guise of a poster for a magic show and outlined how bereft of literary merit the book was. It was a promising start.

Susanna Clarke's Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is an outstanding book, it's a tome, a work of epic proportions delicately planned and intricately detailed. Anything set in Victorian times will remind me vaguely of that. That and Mr Dickens. The somnambulist had a lot to live upto, and Jonathan Barnes, a first-class honours student from Cambridge in English Literature makes a good attempt.

The book has all that you would expect of this genre, interesting characters and scenarios, the dark, grimness of 19th Century London, unsavoury characters and a perpetual influx of beautifully crafted sentences. But it never really quite makes it. The characters are intentionally unlikeable, written with bizarre physical characteristics and odd penchants. And though interesting and varied, I just don't like them, and don't really care if they win or lose. Another obvious comparison would be with Sherlock Holmes who on occasion was an absolute bugger to Watson, but I still liked him, and I liked Watson, and there was always that element of respect to be garnered. The Somnambulist himself is somewhat of an enigma, but also an entirely unnecessary addition, he plays no significant part specific to his character traits and certainly is not the worthy eponym of the novel. Looking from the character arc angle, most are colourful but irrelevant, interesting but fleeting, perhaps needfully so and I do welcome the variety, but I feel that perhaps these could have been fleshed out a little and perhaps had a longer, more useful part in the novel rather than just a series of brief appearences; often they had the air of a new idea that just had to be added to the manuscript, as though the novel grew organically without much redrafting.

Onto the plot. I like the plot, but that is again because of the variety and colour that Barnes has painted it with. There so much to keep you interested. But events and the characters therein are tenuously related, there are a number of loose threads and dead ends that really could've been tied up. The mystery element to the story were never fully realised because the plot moved at such a pace that it never seems to give you that moment to think "what's going on?" or "ahh, that explains that." There were very few mysteries in the first chapters that were tied up in the later chapters and so on. There were some interesting twists, but these were primarily a post-modern angle wherein one was reminded of the fact that this was a story and a patchwork of ideas.

To summarise, I think Mr Barnes is an exceptional wordsmith. His vocabulary is better than most writers and he can build such vivid imagery that I've rarely seen elsewhere. The imaginative aspects of the book are excellent and had this been a 600-page epic I think it would've been a masterpiece. I'd like to draw a comparison to a Victorian freakshow, as that's what this book reminded me off, somewhat fantastical but segmented and non-contiguous, jumping from one colourful scene to the next without that current underlying it; a series of junkie highs. I had the same problem with the recent Danny Boyle film, Slumdog Millionaire, it was an excellent film with a great story but was poorly bound together and paced like a set of long steps puncuated by bland flat landings. I liked The Somnambulist, I found it very readable and enjoyable and criticise it only because there is so much potential. Jonathan Barnes will, I'm sure, mature into an exceptional writer and I will watch his career closely.

Film Review: Ringu (1998)

Director: Hideo Nakata

I was drawn to this film from the moment I saw the US film adaptation of the Koji Suzuki novel, wondering how that further abstraction from my milieu (i.e. Japanese Culture vs Western Culture) would affect the trope and artistic merit of this film. Surely the parent from whom 'The Ring' was born had as much, if not more, to offer in the way of bizarreness and terror-inducing visuals. Unfortunately, it was not good. Those elements of The Ring that, for me, made it terrifying, entertaining and actually a very good film were all missing. The strange video (tame, boring and uninspired in comparison to The Ring's almost art house visual), the desaturated landscapes, the crazy, inexplicable events (the horse, the photos), even the creepy house under which our emoesque antagonist spluttered away her final breathes and chipped a nail was about as creepy as Butlins.

But perhaps I'm being unfair, I'm making a comparison and could never see Ringu for what it is. It has elements that I think are very respectable, especially the cut-frames and the emergence from the television reminding us that we're watching a horror movie but not actually in it - they impressed me and worked quite well. Remakes are almost always bad, a fair and oft-chanted mantra, but occasionally it works the other way too.

Words: Lurid

This is the first post from a list of words I've been compiling, that I like (some of which I don't know the meaning). Most definitions courtesy of dictionary.com

lurid

[loor-id]
–adjective
1. gruesome; horrible; revolting: the lurid details of an accident.
2. glaringly vivid or sensational; shocking: the lurid tales of pulp magazines.
3. terrible in intensity, fierce passion, or unrestraint: lurid crimes.
4. lighted or shining with an unnatural, fiery glow; wildly or garishly red: a lurid sunset.
5. wan, pallid, or ghastly in hue; livid.

Origin:
1650–60; lūridus sallow, ghastly

Related forms:
luridly, adverb
luridness, noun

Synonyms:
dismal, pale, murky.

Books Read in 2009

Obama, Barack: Dreams From My Father
Barnes, Johnathan: The Somnambulist
Ellison, Ralph: Invisible Man
Palahniuk, Chuck: Non-Fiction
Hesse, Hermann: The Steppenwolf
McCarthy, Cormac: The Road
Ellis, Bret Easton: American Psycho

Words: Beguile

beguile

[bi-gahyl]
–verb (used with object), -guiled, -guiling.
1. to influence by trickery, flattery, etc.; mislead; delude.
2. to take away from by cheating or deceiving (usually fol. by of): to be beguiled of money.
3. to charm or divert: a multitude of attractions to beguile the tourist.
4. to pass (time) pleasantly: beguiling the long afternoon with a good book.

Origin:
1175–1225; ME bigilen. See be-, guile

Related forms:
beguilement, noun
beguiler, noun

Synonyms:
1. deceive, cheat. 3. amuse, entertain.

Books Read in 2008

Goodkind, Terry: Wizard's First Rule
Murdoch, Iris: The Sea, The Sea
McEwan, Ian: Cement Garden
Calvino, Italo: If on a Winter's Night a Traveller
Krakauer, Jon: Into the Wild
Pratchett, Terry: Truckers
King, Stephen: Carrie
Palahniuk, Chuck: Snuff
Niven, Larry: Ringworld
Hemingway, Ernest: The Old Man and the Sea
Pohl, Fredrick: The Tunnel Under the World
McGregor, Jon: If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things
Atwood, Margaret: True Trash
Kafka, Franz: The Trial
McEwan, Ian: On Chesil Beach
Gibson, William: Neuromancer
Murakami, Haruki: Kafka on the Shore
Card, Orson Scott: Pastwatch - The Redemption of Christopher Colombus
Conan Doyle, Arthur: The Hound of the Baskervilles
Calvino, Italo: Marcovaldo
Dick, Philip K: Galactic Pot Healer
Capote, Truman: In Cold Blood
Rowling, J K: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
Lovecraft, H P: At The Mountains of Madness
Du Maurier, Daphne: The Birds
Pratchett, Terry: The Colour of Magic

Books Read in 2007

Heinlein, Robert A: The Man Who Sold the Moon
Johnson, Steven: Everything Bad Is Good for You
Goldberg, Bernard: 100 People Who Are Screwing Up America
More, Thomas: Utopia
Steinbeck, John: Tortilla Flat
Heinlein, Robert A: Assignment in Eternity
Pierre, DBC: Vernon God Little
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: For the Good of the Cause
Matheson, Richard: I Am Legend
Huxley, Aldous: Brave New World
Coelho, Paul: The Alchemist
Wells, H G: The Time Machine
Zelazny, Roger: The Doors of his Face, The Lamps of his Mouth
Ellison, Harlan: "Repent, Harlequin!" Said the Ticktockman
Rushdie, Salman: Fury
Ishiguro, Kazou: Never Let Me Go
Martel, Yann: Life Of Pi
Swofford, Antony: Jarhead
Dick, Philip K: Our Friends from Frolix 8
Parker, John: Wild, the Biography of Jack Nicholson
Le Guin, Ursula: A Wizard of Earthsea
Huxley, Aldous: The Doors of Perception
Bryson, Bill: A Short History of Everything
Camus, Albert: The Outsider
Chblosky, Steven: The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Shafak, Elif: The Bastard of Istanbul
Pahalnuik, Chuck: Fight Club
Pullman, Philip: The Amber Spyglass
Pullman, Philip: The Subtle Knife
Banks, Iain: The Wasp Factory
Keneally, Thomas: Schindler's Ark
Rynck, Patrick de: How to Read a Painting
Schama, Simon: The Power of Art
Ellis, Bret Easton: Lunar Park
Greene, Graham: The Third Man
Bradbury, Ray: The Man Upstairs
Brooks, Terry: Indomitable
Asimov, Isaac: Foundation
Asimov, Isaac: Metaphor
Asimov, Isaac: Ideas
Asimov, Isaac: Plotting
Rhys, Jean: Wide Sargasso Sea
Gaiman, Neil: The Monarch of the Glen
Amis, Martin: God's Dice
Dick, Philip K: The Father Thing
Bradbury, Ray: The Pedestrian
Vonnegut, Kurt: Slaughterhouse 5
Maucham, W Somerset: ?
Pullman, Philip: Northern Lights
Sammon, Paul M: Ridley Scott: The Making of his Movies
Koontz, Dean: Forever Odd

Koontz, Dean: Forever Odd

[Spoilers]

Having spent more time in the King camp than the Koontz camp, and with only Watchers on audio book for comparison, I approached Forever Odd with an open mind. The book opens with a series of rolling chapters and interesting asides. As a sequel to Odd Thomas, I expected to have to invest some time in assumptions, but Koontz successfully enlightens the uninitiated into the back story very neatly. I cannot compare this to the sequel nor the recently published Brother Odd, but Forever Odd does, to a large extent, stand up as a novel in its own right.

However - and this is a wholesome however - the book does not stand up as a worthwhile investment of time. The first few chapters reminded me of an M. Night Shyamalan conglomeration, with the protagonist having the ability to 'see dead people' and a good friend with a similar bone condition to Unbreakable's Elijah Price. After a brief snort of disdain, I continued unabated expecting a story as strong and gripping as Watchers. As I got past the first few chapters though the story really started to deteriorate, with uninteresting secondary characters, unconvincing villains and a bleak plot.

To describe the plot would take only a couple of sentences, and, although a complex plot is by no means a prerequsite to a good novel, there does have to be some substance to grip onto in its abscence. All there is is an unlikely setting and a series of coincidences, which Koontz reinforces with detail that seems to be present merely to plug flaws rather than to direct the action.

There's an element of adolescent fantasy to the female antagonist, Datura, which, more than anything, is amateurish and unnecessary. Her power seems to be sourced from her sexuality, which is not only cliche but also a little insulting. Those who stand in Odd's way are defeated with remarkable ease, none more so than Datura, whose death by mountain lion is not only random but also a severe cop-out, feeling like Koontz suffered writer's block and was saved by The Writer's Guide to Death Scenes

The book ends with such a bizarre twist that seems to be present simply as a link to the subsequent Brother Odd. Overall, I was disappointed and even considered putting the book down with only ten pages to go. Compared to Watchers, Forever Odd read like a debut. Hopefully, Koontz's reputation will keep him afloat, but this series is not his strongest work.