Damn you straight to hell, 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die, for what you made me do. You made me read a goddamn vampire book. Not only that, y...moreDamn you straight to hell, 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die, for what you made me do. You made me read a goddamn vampire book. Not only that, you made me read a vampire book with a cover made entirely of shiny ostentatious material that shouted to everyone in the library as I checked this out, "Look everyone! Madeline is reading a book about vampires! SHINY SHINY SHINY LOOK AT ME! I CONTAIN SEXY BROODING VAMPIRES AND I AM SO EFFING SHINY."
(I cannot stress how shiny-gold this cover is. Like, the ancient Egyptians would look at this cover and say, "That's a bit much." It was awful.)
Okay, so the book itself isn't bad, really - hence my rating of two stars, which Goodreads classifies as "it was ok." That's what the book is: just okay. Maybe I would have been more thrilled by the story if I hadn't seen the movie - even though there's stuff in the book that didn't make it into the movie, none of it is particularly thrilling. At least the movie made the wise decision to keep the blatant, in-your-face-but-unacknowledged homoeroticism (seriously, this book is, and I mean this in the most literal way possible, the gayest thing I've ever read) but changed the fact that a) Claudia is only five years old in the book and b) she and Louis do everything except actually have sex with each other. They're always kissing and caressing each other and Louis is calling her his lover and his paramour and it is so fucking creepy.
But, lest we forget, vampire books are supposed to be creepy. In these post-Twilight days, it's easy to forget that there was once a time where vampires fucked and killed and were a general amoral all-around good time, and if one of them chose to be all broody and sad about being a vampire he was the weird one that no one else wanted to hang out with. God, I miss those days - to the point where I considered giving this an extra star, just because I was so grateful to read a story about vampires who do actual vampire stuff and it's sexy and scary instead of boring and schmoopy.
Also good was how in-depth Rice goes into the psychology of vampires, and I loved her explanation for why they haven't overrun the planet: most vampires are miserable, and end up killing themselves. Explains Armand, who I will continue to picture as Antonio Banderas and you can't stop me:
"How many vampires do you think have the stamina for immortality? They have the most dismal notions of immortality to begin with. For in becoming immortal they want all the forms of their life to be fixed as they are and incorruptible...When, in fact, all things change except the vampire himself; everything except the vampire is subject to constant corruption and distortion. Soon, with an inflexible mind, and often even with the most flexible mind, this immortality becomes a penitential sentence in a madhouse of figures and forms that are hopelessly unintelligible and without value. One evening a vampire rises and realizes what he has feared perhaps for decades, that he simply wants no more of life at any cost."
That part was pretty cool. But as for the rest, I'll just watch the movie, thanks. Or not, because if we're going to be honest I don't even like the movie that much. It's probably time to admit to myself that I have no interest in reading about/watching any vampires not created by Joss Whedon. Sorry, Ms. Rice, but if my vampires must be broody, I at least want them to be funny and charming too. (or Alexander Skarsgard, because god damn)(less)
"Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars of Treasure Island, from the begin...more"Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars of Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17- and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof."
Regardless of what you think of Treasure Island as a story (and we'll get there, not to worry), its importance in establishing modern adventure tropes can't be denied. So many of the things we think of when we imagine pirates - peg legs, parrots on shoulders, fifteen men on a dead man's chest, the Black Spot - were invented by Stevenson in this book. Basically every single portrayal of pirates created after this story is based in some way on what Stevenson wrote, so if nothing else I appreciate this book for providing us with everything from Captain Hook to Jack Sparrow. ("Captain Jack Sparrow.")
So it's just too bad that I didn't enjoy this book as much as I wanted to. Sure, it's exciting for a while, what with the murderous pirates attacking the inn and Jim Hawkins setting out on a crazy treasure-hunting adventure, but around the time they get to the island the plot grinds practically to a halt. It takes chapters and chapters for them to get anywhere or do anything, and I was immensely appreciative of how movie versions of this story make sure to move the action along quickly once they land on the island. Also, Book Jim is kind of an idiot - he stows away with Silver & Co. when they row to the island (even though Jim knows that Silver is evil) just for the hell of it, and he abandons his friends again once they're on the island and have a stronghold set up, because the best thing to do when you're on a strange island full of pirates who want to kill you is go exploring without telling anyone.
Also you'll notice in the passage I quoted above, Jim's father is alive at the beginning of the story. He dies pretty quickly, but I prefer how in the movie versions Jim's dad is long gone, having abandoned his son or died a long time ago. It just makes more narrative sense: in order for him to latch on to Long John Silver so quickly, Jim needs to be saddled with enough daddy issues to embarrass a stripper.
So in conclusion, I'm glad I read this book, if only to appreciate its cultural significance, but the movie versions I've seen are infinitely more enjoyable.
(In case anyone is curious, I have seen two different film versions of Treasure Island. First is Muppet Treasure Island, which makes Stevenson's original seem plodding and boring and horribly miscast - Captain Smollett is and always will be Kermit, and there has never been a better Long John Silver than Tim Curry. Also, Disney's experimental steampunk take on the story, Treasure Planet is highly underrated, in my opinion.)(less)
*Reviewer's Note: obviously, there isn't a movie version of this book (yet, anyway - they're supposedly working on one, which will probably be terribl...more*Reviewer's Note: obviously, there isn't a movie version of this book (yet, anyway - they're supposedly working on one, which will probably be terrible but I'll save that rant for later) so once again I have to put a book on my The Movie Is Better shelf because I can't be bothered to create a shelf titled The Stage Adaptation Is Better. Just keep in mind that if that shelf existed, this book would be there*
First, Some Background: (for review of actual book, please skip ahead to paragraph four) So this past spring, I spent four days in New York with three of my friends. As we are all giant theater dorks, our sole objective was to see as many shows as we could for as cheaply as possible (a feat we accomplished quite spectacularly, thank you verra much). One of my friends, the the giantest theater dork of us all, had heard fantastic things about this off-Broadway show called Peter and the Starcatcher, and convinced us that we had to venture away from Times Square in order to see it. The short version of the story is, after a subway adventure and being afraid we wouldn't get to see the show because we bought stand-by tickets because the show was technically sold out, we got in.
And oh my sweet baby Jesus, it was the best thing I have ever seen on stage, ever. EVER. It was funny and touching and exciting and sad and fucking hilarious. Almost all the props, scenery, and special effects were created by the actors, which made the whole show look like something being performed in someone's attic by a bunch of neighborhood kids (which, really, is the only way a Peter Pan story can be performed) who just happened to be extremely talented. (see the show's website here for an idea of what it looked like) The cast was amazing, the script was perfect, and it was alternately funny and heartbreaking. My point is, the show is the sole reason I read this book, and I knew going into it that the book had no chance of being as good as the play, so I wasn't even that disappointed when I turned out to be right.
JM Barrie's Peter Pan, while amazing, left a lot of unanswered questions. How did Peter get to the island? Who taught him to fly? Where did the pirates come from? How did Peter and Tinkerbell meet? Why, if fairy dust allows people to fly, is Peter the only one who can fly without it?
Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson took these questions and used them to write a Peter Pan origin story, and it's much, much cooler than it sounds. Peter starts out as an orphan, along with several of his friends from the orphanage, being put on a ship and sent across the ocean to work as servants for an evil king. Also on the ship is Molly, a girl who knows more than she's telling about a mysterious trunk being kept belowdecks with mysteriously magical properties. In pursuit of the ship, and the magic, is the pirate Black Stache. Did I mention that the ship Peter is placed on is called the Never Land? Oh yes, I see what you did there.
It all makes for a fast-paced, fun pirate adventure with lots of action and humor (not as funny as the play, I have to admit). As I read, I kept thinking that this is the book The Dagger Quick wished it could be. The characters are all great, especially Molly, who despite fulfilling the usual Girl Character in an Adventure Story jobs like being held hostage and getting rescued, is still perfectly capable and intelligent, and gets to do her fair share of the rescuing. Also she speaks Porpoise, which was never not funny.
My only gripe about the book, really, is that the authors seem oddly intent on making connections between the book and the animated Disney version of Peter Pan, instead of Barrie's original. Characters from the movie are described in the book as looking just like their animated counterparts: Peter has bright red hair, Black Stache (who becomes Hook) has curly black hair and a long mustache, and Smee is described wearing the same outfit he wears in the movie. The last straw was Tinkerbell, who in this version was originally a bird (it makes sense, I promise) that had a green body and a bright yellow head. However, this annoying aspect might not have actually been the authors fault: given that the publishing information at the beginning of the book loudly proclaims that this is a DISNEY EDITIONS book, I imagine the publishers prodded the authors to include some stuff that would tie the book into the animated movie.
This was a fun book, although vastly different from the (superior) stage version. I could go into all the differences, but frankly this review is long enough and I'm not sure anyone actually cares that much. The point is, the book is a fun adventure story that is actually a really well-done prequel to Peter Pan, but if you get a chance to see the play, you absolutely should.
Okay, one more thing about the play: here are two lines that I remember and wanted to share.
First, from Captain Stache to Smee: "Oh Smee. How flat and unprofitable the world must look from the deck of your HMS Cynic."
And here's what Molly said to Peter when they said goodbye, in a scene that made the whole damn theater cry like babies: "It's supposed to hurt. That's how you know it meant something."(less)
A fun, quick read. I like to think of this book as Gaiman's response to the Narnia books - you kids want to escape your boring normal lives? Well, you...moreA fun, quick read. I like to think of this book as Gaiman's response to the Narnia books - you kids want to escape your boring normal lives? Well, you're in for a surprise, because fantasy worlds are scary as fuck. Sleep well!
The movie version, with Dakota Fanning voicing Coraline, is not technically "better" than the book (as one of my shelf titles would have you believe). Instead, the movie actually enhances Gaiman's already-great story, with appropriately-haunting music, gorgeous animation, and some nice extra stuff added in, like Coraline's friend Wybie and the holy-shit-get-it-away doll that the Other Mother uses to spy on kids. Worth seeing, and worth reading. (less)
**spoiler alert** Before we start off, let me clarify something: because I can't be bothered to create a "the Broadway stage adaptation is better" she...more**spoiler alert** Before we start off, let me clarify something: because I can't be bothered to create a "the Broadway stage adaptation is better" shelf, my "the movie is better" shelf will have to suffice here. The Phantom of the Opera, the show, is a giant, absurd, bombastic display of every bad misconception of theater, and is the main reason Andrew Lloyd Weber is able to fall asleep on a bed made of money every night. It's not my favorite show, is what I'm saying - in fact, I don't even really like the show, come to think of it (which begs the question of why I read this book in the first place, but whatever). So, with all that in mind, Madeline Reviews Inc now presents:
Why The Phantom of the Opera the Book Is, Somehow, Worse Than The Stage Show And Every Movie Version Released So Far
-Everyone in the book is a moron. Like, even more than they are in the show. I got about halfway through the book when I realized, "Wait a minute, was I supposed to be surprised by the revelation that the Phantom and Christine's tutor are the same guy? Haven't we known that from, like, page twenty?" Even if I hadn't seen any other versions, I feel sure I would have figured it out - come on, the story is about people trying to learn the identity of a mysterious, invisible guy and the title of the book is The Phantom of the Opera. Were Gaston Leroux's readers really that stupid?
-Annoying characters from the show are even more annoying here. Christine is still a useless twit, and in this version comes upgraded with zero observation skills and a seriously misguided sense of priorities. When she admits to Raoul (after like two months of bullshit) that the Phantom scares the hell out of her and she wants to escape him, Raoul makes the very sensible point that maybe she should stop wearing the ring the Phantom gave her. Christine's response: "That would be deceitful." GAAAAAAHHHHH. Raoul is even worse. In the show, he's simply a well-meaning schmuck who fails spectacularly at saving Christine every opportunity he gets. In the book, he's a selfish dick. This is a paraphrased account of an interaction between him and Christine: Raoul: "Christine, I know there's something super weird going on with this guy you're running off to see, and I want you to tell me what's up because I love you and want to protect you." Christine: "It's too dangerous, I can't tell you." Raoul: "OMG YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HIM AREN'T YOU? WELL FINE, I DON'T CARE. I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU LYING WHORE."
-We never get to see anything from Christine's perspective. This is important, because in the book she spends at least two months as the Phantom's prisoner, and all we get is her description, later, of what it was like. Instead of seeing the Phantom through Christine's eyes, where he might have been a more compelling character, we just get to watch Raoul follow her around like a creeper and then listen to Christine give lengthy expositional speeches after events happen.
-The Phantom isn't actually that cool. He's always bursting into tears and begging Christine to love him, and the rest of the time he's so incredibly misguided about his relationship with Christine that it's almost funny. He comes off sounding like one of those perverts on cop shows who insists that he and the ten-year-old locked in his basement actually have a very special and loving relationship, while the cops are just looking at him like, that's nice, man, but your ass is still going to jail.
-There are way more characters than we need, and a lot of them are different (read: worse) than they are in the show. Madame Giry, last seen as a cool, commanding ballet mistress, is merely a crazy old woman who works for the Phantom because he deceived her with the most idiotic lie ever. The book also features The Persian, a guy who literally hangs around the Opera and shows up whenever it's thematically necessary. He might as well have been named Deus Ex Machina.
-Leroux's pacing sucks. Any drama is instantly ruined by his digressions or abrupt scene-changing, and all momentum is lost. When the Phantom kidnaps Christine after her final performance, the story is going along well, everyone's freaking out and trying to find her, and then Leroux pops up. "Hey!" he says, "You guys remember how on page 20 I told you that the new managers have to pay the Phantom 20,000 francs once a month? I bet you guys are wondering how that's going, huh? Let's check in with them quick." And before you can say, no, Gaston, I actually wasn't wondering that at all, he makes you slog through two goddamn chapters about the new managers trying to figure out how the Phantom collects their money. Similarly, once Raoul and the Persian have gone after the Phantom and are almost at his lair (a journey that takes way, way too long) they get locked in his torture chamber (which involves torture so stupid I won't even describe it) and the plot comes to a damn standstill as Raoul and the Persian spends hours trapped there. It made me actually long for the show, where everything skips along at a fast clip and the worst digressions are five-minute love songs.
-The ending is stupid. Christine gets the Phantom to release her and Raoul (after a lengthy imprisonment that, again, we only get to hear about rather than see), not by having a sexy quick makeout session with him, but by crying with him. That's it. The Phantom kisses her (on the forehead), bursts into tears, and Christine cries with him. This somehow convinces the Phantom that she loves Raoul and that he should let them go, and that's how the Phantom is defeated. I am in no way joking.
In the interest of fairness, the book has two good things going for it: One, Leroux's portrayal of the opera house as a sprawling, complex maze that's a contained city is pretty incredible, and he's at his best when he's describing all the intricacies and hidden secrets of the opera house. And two, at least in the book, we are never subjected to a performance of Don Juan Triumphant. Thank you, Jesus. (less)
Honestly? I think the awesomeness of Nick and Nora Charles got built up a little too much for me before I read this, because I was expecting 200 pages...moreHonestly? I think the awesomeness of Nick and Nora Charles got built up a little too much for me before I read this, because I was expecting 200 pages of nonstop witty banter between the two, and was mildly disappointed. Sure, Nick is funny in a dry sarcastic way, and Nora is the sassy drunken aunt you never knew you always wanted, but their banter and witticisms only caused the occasional chuckle.
But lucky for me, the book has a lot more going for it than just the banter. It's a fun, classic 30's mystery full of crazy dames and shooting and goons and coppers, and the characters drink so much it made my liver hurt just reading about it. Like The Maltese Falcon, it got to a point where I had to just accept that I had no idea what any of the characters were talking about and try to go with the flow until someone explained everything at the end. They mystery itself (it includes a string of murders and a suspiciously-absent man) was engrossing, although I guessed the big twist a few pages before it happened.
Having looked up the movie version of The Thin Man on IMDB, I've added it to my Netflix queue and intend to make a comparison as soon as possible - if the IMDB quotes are any indication, the movie version looks much funnier than the book. Stand by for further information as soon as I watch it.
PS: I just noticed one of the options at the bottom of the review box, next to the spoiler button - "Does this book follow a few characters or many?" Who the fuck cares, Goodreads? If I think it's that important, I'll mention it in the actual review. Jesus.
UPDATE, AFTER WATCHING THE FILM VERSION: I'm now putting this on my "The Movie Is Better" shelf, because as I predicted, the movie is much funnier. William Powell and Myrna Loy are darling as Nick and Nora, Mimi is appropriately crazy (although in the movie there's never any doubt about whether she killed Julia, because we actually see her find the body), Gilbert is adorable, and Nora has an absolutely fabulous collection of outfits. Watch the movie, and read the book only if you're really curious about the little changes they made in the screenplay. (less)
As Michael Kors once sighed to a clueless designer on Project Runway: Where do I start?
Let's open with some descriptive words that sum up this book,...moreAs Michael Kors once sighed to a clueless designer on Project Runway: Where do I start?
Let's open with some descriptive words that sum up this book, and I will then go on to explain them in further detail: Patronizing. Insipid. Smarmy. Just plain bad.
Patronizing: I believe that to write good children's literature, you have to think that children are intelligent, capable human beings who are worth writing for - like Stephen King, who probably thinks kids are smarter than adults. The author of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, on the other hand, clearly thinks that children are idiots. The main character, Bruno, is supposed to be nine years old, but compared to him Danny Torrance of The Shining (who was six) looks like a Mensa member. There's childlike naivety, and then there's Bruno, who is so stunningly unobservant and unperceptive that I actually started to wonder if he was supposed to be mentally deficient somehow. And he's not the only child who receives Boyne's withering scorn and condescension. Take this scene between Bruno and his sister Gretel, when they've just moved to their house at "Out-With" (as Bruno insists on calling it, despite being corrected many times and seeing the name written down) and are wondering how long they're going to stay there. Bruno's father, a commandant in charge of the camp, has told the kids that they'll be there "for the foreseeable future" and Bruno doesn't know what that means. "'It means weeks from now,' Gretel said with an intelligent nod of her head. 'Perhaps as long as three.'" Gretel is twelve years old, by the way. TWELVE. See what I meant about Boyne thinking kids are morons?
Insipid And Smarmy: this book was not meant for kids to read. It's meant for adults who know about the Holocaust already, so they can read it and sigh over the precious innocent widdle children's adorable misunderstanding of the horrible events surrounding them and how they still remain innocent and uuuuuuggggggghhhhh. There's a scene towards the end, where Bruno puts on a pair of the "striped pajamas" so he can visit his friend on the other side of the fence. Bruno has had lice, so his head is shaved. When he puts on the pajamas, the Jewish boy observes him and the narration commits the following Hallmark-worthy atrocity: "If it wasn't for the fact that Bruno was nowhere near as skinny as the boys on his side of the fence, and not quite so pale either, it would have been difficult to tell them apart. It was almost (Shmuel thought) as if they were all exactly the same really."
YES JOHN BOYNE I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.
Just Plain Bad: This book is, technically, historic fiction, but I'm not putting it on my history shelf, because there is nothing historical in this book. Bruno is supposed to have grown up in Nazi Germany, the son of a high ranking SS officer, but based on his knowledge of everything, he's spent his entire nine years sitting inside with his eyes shut humming loudly while covering his ears. Okay, I get that he wouldn't know about the concentration camps - hardly anyone did at that point. But there are other things: Bruno consistently (and adorably!) mispronounces the Fuhrer as "the Fury" (I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE JOHN BOYNE), and doesn't recognize the following key words and phrases: Jews, Fatherland, Heil Hitler. What. The fuck. Okay, so maybe this kid's too young to be in Hitler Youth (his sister isn't though, but for some reason she's not in it either), but come on - he thinks "Heil Hitler" is just a polite way to end a conversation. A nine-year-old boy growing up in a military household in Nazi Germany doesn't know what Heil Hitler means.
All of this comes back to my original thesis: John Boyne thinks that children are idiots.
Look, Boyne: just because you don't understand anything (history, children, good writing) doesn't mean the rest of us are quite so useless. Go cash your checks for that awful movie adaptation they did of this book and never try to make a statement about anything ever again, please.
Read for: Social Justice in Young Adult Literature(less)
After having leaped onto the bandwagon with the rest of everyone, I feel a certain amount of pretentious indie pride saying that I wasn't as awed by t...moreAfter having leaped onto the bandwagon with the rest of everyone, I feel a certain amount of pretentious indie pride saying that I wasn't as awed by this book as everyone else apparently was. Which is not to say that the book wasn't enjoyable and exciting; it just didn't knock my socks off whilst simultaneously blowing my mind and rocking my world. (that sounds like either some great song lyrics or a very complicated sexual maneuver. Let's go with the first option.)
So, the good stuff: the main story - a disgraced journalist is hired by a rich old man to write a book about said man's crazy rich family, while secretly working to discover truth behind the disappearance and supposed murder of the man's granddaughter. Also in play is Lisbeth Salander, a freelance investigator who also happens to be one of the best hackers in Sweden. She also happens to be made of awesome, but I'll get to that later. The journalist is investigating a supposed murder (a body was never found, so no one even knows what happened to the girl), so violence is expected. I just wasn't quite prepared for just how intensely graphic the violence is. There's a lot of stuff dealing with assault, rape, and murder of various women. There is also a lot of sex in the book, and the stuff that gets described in the most detail is definitely not consensual and will probably make you very uncomfortable. You've been warned. The investigation itself is pretty fascinating, implausible as it is that some random guy investigating a disappearance that took place 40 years ago was able to find out completely new leads that weren't found by the police or the girl's grandfather (who's been obsessing about the case since forever), but I digress. The family itself is equal parts interesting, creepy, and frustrating. It's not until the journalist (Blomkvist) teams up with Lisbeth that things get really interesting, and they made such a fun team I wanted them to get their own detective show. The book deals mainly with crimes against women and those who commit them. Larsson obviously feels very passionately about this subject, as well as what should be done with the men who assault women. Without giving anything away, rest assured that every bad guy rapist/murderer/whatever gets a large helping of tasty justice.
And now for the bad stuff: -There's a lot of nattering on about business and computers and journalism and more business stuff that either bored me or went over my head completely. -Larsson cannot seem to decide whether he wants to refer to people by their last name or their first name, so he switches back and forth and it is confusing. -A family tree is provided at the beginning of the book, since the family the journalist is investigating (the Vangers) is pretty big, but I never had much trouble keeping everyone straight. A map of the island the family compound is located on would have been much more helpful, since I never really figured out the geography of the place. -Pointless details. I don't need to know what the characters ate for every single meal, I don't need to know exactly what model of computer/motorcycle/car a character uses, and I definitely don't need to know what each character is wearing at every moment of the day. Larsson is especially guilty of this when Lisbeth is concerned - I guess he decided we wouldn't understand what a unique counterculture tough chick she is unless we know that she's always wearing leather jackets, boots, torn jeans, and black t-shirts with angry slogans. (yes, Larsson actually tells us what each of Lisbeth's t-shirts says.) Listen, Stieg: Lisbeth is awesome. She is wonderfully defined simply through her own actions and thoughts - we don't even need the other characters constantly reminding us how antisocial and tough and uncommunicative and badass she is. Believe me, we can see that. Show don't tell etc.
To sum up, I'm going to give the last word to the book itself, and quote a sentence that's actually a character talking about a book featured towards the end of the story - but it could easily describe Larsson's book: "It was uneven stylistically, and in places the writing was actually rather poor - there had been no time for any fine polishing - but the book was animated by a fury that no reader could help but notice."
That, in a nutshell, was how I felt about The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.
UPDATE: I just watched the film version of this book (the original Swedish one, thank you verra much), and am adding this to my "the movie is better" shelf. Not that the book isn't good; it's just that the movie streamlines the story and gets rid of everything I complained about earlier in this review. In the movie, all the minor characters and business-drama babble has been eliminated, Erika and Mikael's weird three-way relationship is thankfully unmentioned, Mikael never boffs Cecilia Vanger, and Noomi Rapace is so fucking cool as Lisbeth I can't even handle it. I'm also pretty sure they took some stuff from The Girl Who Played With Fire and put it in the movie, because there's some stuff about Lisbeth's past that I don't remember from the book.
UPDATE UPDATE: Having now seen the American remake, and re-watched the Swedish version, I have come to a following decision. While the American version is, in a technical sense, a better movie (Fincher is a much better director - for just one example, the scene where Henrik Vanger explains the circumstances of Harriet's disappearance is a masterful example of show-don't-tell), I dislike the changes they made to the ending, and I simply cannot accept Rooney Mara as Lisbeth. Although I'm proud of Fincher & Co. for making her look and act as weird as the character should, something about her portrayal still wasn't right. If you're interested, this article explains pretty much every complaint I have about American Lisbeth.(less)
Even if you love the movie, you should probably read the book anyway. There are a few extra characters tossed in that are actually pretty cool and imp...moreEven if you love the movie, you should probably read the book anyway. There are a few extra characters tossed in that are actually pretty cool and important (unlike Tom fucking Bombadil), and it's worth it just to say in a superior way that you've read the books.
But let's face it - Peter Jackson's version of these books are freaking genius. (less)
A pretty cool story, but I still prefer the movie version, no matter how much time I spend yelling at Eowyn to get her daddy-issue mitts off Arwen's m...moreA pretty cool story, but I still prefer the movie version, no matter how much time I spend yelling at Eowyn to get her daddy-issue mitts off Arwen's man. (less)
We only watched parts of the movie for my American History class in high school, but I still know I prefer it to the book version. Two reasons: the Mo...moreWe only watched parts of the movie for my American History class in high school, but I still know I prefer it to the book version. Two reasons: the Monroe sisters aren't unlikeable useless twinkies (and I'm pretty sure at least one of them actually survives the movie), and Daniel Day Lewis.
I'm sorry. I tried really, really hard to prefer the book over the movie, but dammit I just can't. Maybe it's because Book Caspian doesn't really have...moreI'm sorry. I tried really, really hard to prefer the book over the movie, but dammit I just can't. Maybe it's because Book Caspian doesn't really have much of a personality and is just some kid who's along for the ride during nearly the entire story. Maybe it's because Aslan is even more of a know-it-all jackass in this one. Maybe it's the lack of pretty boys having swordfights. (don't bother making dirty jokes, I've already thought of them all) Maybe it was the fact that, once again, the book was so short the filmmakers took it upon themselves to add to the story (full subplots, too, not just little things) and that I actually liked the extra stuff. Maybe it's just because I should have read the Narnia books when I was a kid and could appreciate them better. Or maybe I just should have read them before I saw the movies. Then again, it could be just that I have a terrible crush on Ben Barnes.
Rather than spend this review explaining what I thought of the book, I will instead devote my time to justifying placing this on my "the movie is bett...moreRather than spend this review explaining what I thought of the book, I will instead devote my time to justifying placing this on my "the movie is better" shelf.
Reasons the Movie Version Is Better: 1. Watching it will take about the same amount of time it takes to read the book, because good lord does everything get wrapped up quick. 2. We actually get to see some real fight scenes, and even though there's no blood and it's all very PG, at least it's not just "There was a battle going on but then Aslan showed up and it was over yay!" 3. The dialogue is considerably less dated and irritating. The kids in the book speak like plummy old British men watching a cricket match in 1800: "'We've fallen on our feet and no mistake,' said Peter. 'This is going to be perfectly splendid. That old chap will let us do anything we like.'" Meanwhile, the movie has lines like this: "When Adam's Flesh and Adam's bone sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil time will be over and done." "You know that doesn't really rhyme." 4. Aslan becomes much less of a dick when he's voiced by Liam Neeson. 5. Since the book is so short (see Reason 1) there's plenty of time for the film to do justice to everything in C.S. Lewis's material, and even add some things. For instance, did you know the Pevensie kids actually have a mother? With a face? Shocking, I know. 6. William Mosely is a pretty, pretty boy. Peter the Magnificent, indeed.
"We kept up our ritual of reading aloud, showering together, making love, and then lying together. I read her War and Peace with all of Tolstoy's disq...more"We kept up our ritual of reading aloud, showering together, making love, and then lying together. I read her War and Peace with all of Tolstoy's disquisitions on history, great men, Russia, love and marriage; it must have lasted forty or fifty hours. Again, Hanna became absorbed in the unfolding of the book. But it was different this time; she withheld her own opinions; she didn't make Natasha, Andrei, and Pierre part of her world, as she had Luise and Emilia, but entered their world the way one sets out on a long and dazzling journey, or enters a castle which one is allowed to visit, even stay in until one feels at home, but without ever really shedding one's inhibitions. All the things I had read to her before were already familiar to me. War and Peace was new for me, too. We took the long journey together."
It's slightly unfair of me to place this book on my "the movie is better shelf", because, to be honest, both versions are amazing. And since the book is so short, the movie is able to do the story justice very well. But I prefer the movie, for the sole reason that Kate Winslet absolutely nailed the character of Hanna. Everything about her performance is absolutely perfect and completely in tune with what Schlink wrote - something I wasn't able to fully appreciate until I read the book. (less)
Meh. Still not sure about this one. I'm going to talk about the movie, because I can't review a book that's been made into a movie without comparing t...moreMeh. Still not sure about this one. I'm going to talk about the movie, because I can't review a book that's been made into a movie without comparing the two versions, but in this case it's pretty hard. (by the way, when I say the movie, I mean the final director's cut - I've never seen the original) The book, obviously, has a lot more detail about the world that Deckard lives in, including a lot more information concerning everyone's desire to own an animal - Deckard and his wife (oh, and he's married in the book. And yes, he still sleeps with Rachael) own a fake sheep, but he wants a real one so badly he carries a catalogue around with him that lists the market prices for animals. Also the book describes the religion of the time, Mercerism, which I don't have enough space to explain and didn't really understand anyway. Those details, although confusing, made the book worth reading. The last few chapters made very little sense, and if anyone were to ask me to summarize them I would be at a complete loss. The movie ending is a little less confusing, but not much. I'm still not sure how I felt about the way androids are portrayed in the two versions. In the book, they're unfeeling, cruel, and self-centered, and even though the characters spend a lot of time talking about how hard it is to kill an android, Deckard is able to retire six of them with almost ridiculous ease. In the movie, androids are much more sympathetic characters who just want to exist on Earth and blend in. (to be fair, Dick's original android characters want this too, but they're much bigger jerks about it) I couldn't stand Rachael in either version - she's the same level of irritating in both the book and the movie and I wanted to slap both versions at some point in the story. Okay, now that I've waffled pointlessly enough, I'm going to call it: I prefer the movie version. Two reasons for this: first, although Harrison Ford doesn't really fit the character described in Dick's book, I could never truly hate Han Solo. If that admiration can survive The Indiana Jones Movie That We Do Not Speak Of, it can certainly survive Blade Runner. The second reason is the ending line, "It's too bad she won't live. But then again, who does?" There you go.(less)
This gets shelved under "the movie is better" for one reason and one reason only. And that reason is the following exchange, which takes place only in...moreThis gets shelved under "the movie is better" for one reason and one reason only. And that reason is the following exchange, which takes place only in the movie: Miracle Max: "Bye bye boys! Have fun storming the castle!" Max's Wife: "You think it'll work?" Miracle Max: "It'll take a miracle." Both: "BYE!(less)
This is getting shelved under "The Movie is Better" but honestly, I can't decide which version I prefer. Because I am indecisive, let's make lists.
Rea...moreThis is getting shelved under "The Movie is Better" but honestly, I can't decide which version I prefer. Because I am indecisive, let's make lists.
Reasons The Movie Is Better: -Audrey Hepburn plays a considerably less racist and foul-mouthed Holly, which is nice. But let's be honest: Holly could spend the entire movie snorting crack off a sidewalk and Audrey Hepburn would make it the most elegant and classy crack-snorting anyone had ever seen. -Holly actually sets foot inside Tiffany's, instead of just talking about it. Also she is actually seen eating breakfast outside the store, instead of just mentioning it offhandedly. -The lines, "It's useful being top banana in the shock department" and "I don't want you to take me home until I'm very drunk. Very drunk indeed." -A happy, schmoopy, formulaic romantic ending in the rain that never fails to win me over. And they come back for Cat. -George Peppard.
Reasons The Book Is Better: -Mag Wildwood, a mere caricature in the movie, gets more lines, personality, and scenes in the book. -Holly is eighteen at the beginning of the story, which makes her instantly more of a badass teen slut, which I admired her for. -Mr. Yunioshi actually has a sizable shred of dignity and is vital to the plot. This did wonders to undo the damage caused by the sight of a sweaty, overtanned, bucktoothed Mickey Rooney leaning over a banister and screeching, "Missa Gorightry! I musta plotest!"
*shudder* Is Mickey Rooney dead? If not, could someone please find him and kill him for thinking he could successfully imitate a Japanese man without turning into a walking stereotype? Thank you.
That's all I can think of at the moment. Bottom line: the book made me sad, and the movie does not. (less)
Call it a guilty pleasure, this book was just fun to read, mostly because I a) love Bond movies anyway and b) delight in sexist jokes, which made it e...moreCall it a guilty pleasure, this book was just fun to read, mostly because I a) love Bond movies anyway and b) delight in sexist jokes, which made it easier for me to read Bond's anti-feminist rants and just giggle to myself. Here's one of my favorites, when Vesper Lynd gets herself kidnapped by the bad guys and Bond has to take the trouble to chase after them: "This was just what he had been afraid of. These blithering women who thought they could do a man's work. Why the hell couldn't they just stay at home and mind their pots and pans and leave men's work to the men. And now for this to happen to him, just when the job had come off so beautifully. For Vesper to fall for an old trick like that and get herself snatched and probably held to ransom like some bloody heroine in a strip cartoon. The silly bitch."
Mmm. I love the smell of misogyny in the morning.
In Bond's defense, Vesper doesn't do much too much to change his opinion of women and their overall uselessness. She's supposed to be some kind of radio technician, but never gets to demonstrate any shred of intelligence that elevates her above the average 7th grade girl. Her only good bit of dialogue comes towards the end of the book, when she and Bond are safe and on vacation together: "The bath had been filled for him and there was a new flask of some expensive pine bath-essence on a chair beside it with his towel. 'Vesper,' he called. 'Yes?' 'You really are the limit. You make me feel like an expensive gigolo.' 'I was told to look after you. I'm only doing what I was told.' 'Darling, the bath's absolutely right. Will you marry me?' She snorted. 'You need a slave, not a wife.' 'I want you.' 'Well, I want my lobster and champagne, so hurry up.' "
That's about as interesting as Vesper gets. The rest of the time she's busy running around after Bond, being referred to as "the girl" and saying things like, "Do you mind if we go straight into dinner? ...I want to make a grand entrance and the truth is there's a horrible secret about black velvet. It marks when you sit down. And, by the way, if you hear me scream tonight, I shall have sat on a cane chair."
Fascinating.
Bond, for his part, didn't say anything especially intelligent either and made me thank god for Daniel Craig and his writers. I couldn't decide which was more annoying: Bond and Vesper during the assignment when they made banal small talk and Bond speculated on how soon he would sleep with her, or after they survive and decide they're in love and go on vacation together. (and don't look at me like I gave the plot away, you knew it was going to happen.) I think it's the latter - once Bond and Vesper survive the kidnapping, all potential of being cool vanishes as they become the most irritating couple ever. Having to read about them schmooping their way across France, eating caviar, and calling each other "Darling," "My love," and "Dearest" was enough to make me vow never to read another Ian Fleming book again.
Anyway, point of review: movie version = awesome, book version = a delightful misogynist romp. Pick whichever you'd prefer.(less)
Into the Wild is the true story of Christopher McCandless, a young man who decided to abandon his family and his wealth and hitchhike across America....moreInto the Wild is the true story of Christopher McCandless, a young man who decided to abandon his family and his wealth and hitchhike across America. He ended up attempting to spend a summer living in the Alaskan bush, and his body ended up being discovered over two weeks after he starved to death. This is a really interesting story for anyone who likes Jack London or Thoreau (or doesn't really want to read those authors), but unfortunately, there's not quite enough information about McCandless to fill a book. By the time I got to the middle of the book I already knew all about the subject's family, childhood, and life story of everyone he met on his travels. When Krakauer began telling the stories of two different men who had embarked on travels similar to McCandless's, I got the impression that the author was struggling to complete his desired page count. By the time I'd finished Krakauer's two-chapter description of the time he climbed a mountain in Alaska, I knew he was struggling to complete his desired page count. Honestly, this story works better as a two-hour movie. (less)
One of the few books where I enjoyed the movie version more. Here are some unsettling things about the book version that got left out of the movie: -Gi...moreOne of the few books where I enjoyed the movie version more. Here are some unsettling things about the book version that got left out of the movie: -Gilbert is kind of an asshole, especially the way he constantly refers to his brother as "the retard." Not even Johnny Depp could have made that a likeable trait. -Becky, Gilbert's love interest, is fourteen. He is in his mid-twenties. They do not sleep together, but they definitely want to, and it is creepy. -Glbert's younger sister goes on a date with the owner of the funeral home. She is fifteen, and they are discovered together in the back of the funeral car. Ew.
If you liked the movie, you might find this book interesting, but I wholeheartedly prefer the movie. (less)
Unfortunately, I read this book after I saw the movie version, so the pace of the novel felt way too slow and I got frustrated with it. Seriously thou...moreUnfortunately, I read this book after I saw the movie version, so the pace of the novel felt way too slow and I got frustrated with it. Seriously though, after Frodo figures out that he has the Ring, it takes him three months just to leave the Shire! But everyone else seems to really love this book, so I wouldn't take my word for it.
Update: About a year after reading this, I picked up The Two Towers on impulse and started reading it. I went on to read The Return of the King, and found both books much more fun to read than the first book in the series. A note about The Return of the King: a good chunk of the end is just appendices; most of them are pretty boring and you can skip them without feeling too guilty. (less)
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