Tag: books

  • Soapbox: Adaptation

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    The Tricky Question

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    Sorry for the lack of columns recently, but a bout of illness and a rush at work has meant that most other things have fallen by the wayside. But I am here once again, ready to tackle subjects relating to books and literature. And boy do I have a good one for my triumphant return: Is there such a thing as a GOOD book to film adaptation?

    People tend to just accept that a book will always trump a film based on the book. The justification is that a film has to condense a lot of the content to fit it into a two hour movie and this in turn dilutes the story. Then you have people arguing that an actor/actress assigned to certain roles don’t marry together with the descriptions given in the book of that character. Or, and this is even worse, that the scriptwriters add in scenes that didn’t exist in the original text.

    And online lists of good books turned into bad movies, or bad books turned into worse films or good films that made amazing films have been compiled and argued over for years.

    I have to admit, I have complained about all of these in the past. As a book lover, I am precious about what I read. I devour it, spend days immersing myself in the world on the page before me, emote with the characters and have that same feeling of closure they do at the novel’s end. So when a book has been “destroyed” by Hollywood writers, I can get a bit uppity about it.

    Currently I am reading Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane, which as the majority will know was released as a movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio and directed by Martin Scorsese earlier this year. Although I am enjoying the book, I saw the film first and will forever picture DiCaprio as Teddy Daniels, which is another of my Hollywood making books into movies bugbears.

    Anyway, one thing I noticed when reading Shutter Island was how close to the text the movie’s writers had stuck. Paragraphs of dialogue had been carefully transferred over to the screenplay, scenes lovingly retained and the general tone of the story complemented. And this filled me with hope that there were some good adaptations out there.

    The early Harry Potter books definitely fall into this category. Philosopher’s Stone and Chamber of Secrets were practically copied verbatim, with Prisoner of Azkaban moving slightly away from JK Rowling’s original offering. However, by Goblet of Fire, the size of the novels had increased substantially and this meant that the film’s writers had to cut out chunks of story, raising angry protests from fans claiming they had “taken out the best bits”. And by Order of the Phoenix the writers were including scenes not featured in the books.

    Part of the problem that writers have in translating novels onto the screen is that there isn’t the same structure. Books include characters’ internal thoughts and feelings and often have a narrative voice running throughout. A film (on the whole) can’t do that, so there are often internal monologues which are chopped by editors.

    Although hated by a lot of people, the first Twilight movie stayed loyal to the books. In the second movie, a lot was changed because in the books Edward Cullen disappears for about 400 pages and the screenplay writers were no doubt fearful about what a room full of Twi-hards would do when they discovered Robert Pattinson missing for about two hours of the movie. And this is another reason for changes to the story – a character minor in a series of books becomes popular, so the movies’ writers concoct new storylines that expand the role.

    And although a comic and not a novel, Sin City was amazing in it’s dedication to stay true to the original artwork and dialogue. There were points in the film that I recognised as exact copies of panels from the comics, which really blew my mind. I can’t help but feel that it helps immensely if the director is a true fan of the work they are recreating on screen.

    However, on the flipside of this is the horrendously bad reimagings. In particular I am thinking of Jurassic Park, where characters who die in the first book survive until the end of the third film. Park creator John Hammond is turned into a grandfatherly twinkly eyed old so-and-so, as opposed to the money-grabbing egotistical character of the books. Many scenes (particularly action scenes) were cut, and it dumbs down the paelentological jargon used in the book.

    Other adaptations seem to take merely the name of the book and little in the way of story (yes, I am looking at you Fever Pitch). The Nick Hornby novel was about football in England and it spoke of the agony of being a fan of a sports team and watching your team lose. The Farrelly Brothers took it, added in that idiot Jimmy Fallon, turned football into baseball and removed any and all of the soul in the story. You never understood truly what being a fan meant to Fallon’s character.

    So, as to whether movie adaptations of books can ever be very good, the answer is yes, but more often that not they won’t. There is too much compression of the story, distortion of characters and studio interference that will often sully even the most loving of projects by screenplay writers.

    Katy Gordon

  • Soapbox: Finding Your R Spot

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    How To Pick The Best Place To Read

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    aa20reading20owlI’m going to take a slight sidestep with this week’s article, because instead of looking at books, I am going to look at the reader. And more specifically, where a reader devours books, and what makes that space so special.

    Now, I’m not claiming to tell people where the best place to read is, because that sort of thing is purely subjective. What works for some may not for others, as my own experiences will show you. However, in order to comfortably and easily read books, there are a few elements that are essential. And for many people, they have one place that is their “reading spot”, where they go solely for the purposes of reading.

    The seat

    I use the word “seat” merely because it’s the easiest to describe what I mean. This doesn’t mean chair exclusively, because I know many people who choose not to sit in a chair. Some people may find an old log, a bean bag, or even their bed as the comfiest place to rip through a few chapters.

    What I have learned, through sometimes painful experience, is that you need a bit of support from what you lie or sit on, especially if you are planning a marathon reading session. Something that will offer your back a bit of support, but is also cushioned enough to be comfortable for hours at a time. That’s why I’ve always wondered why schools use those butt-aching plastic chairs for pupils. Surely they aren’t conducive to creating a productive working environment?

    For me it’s my couch. Yes it’s not very exciting, and in fact, completely obvious, but I honestly don’t enjoy reading anywhere else as much. This is because of one of my requirements: I have to be able to put my feet up, either tucked behind my bum, or on the coffee table (yes children, when you are a grown up you are allowed to put your feet on the furniture!!) or stretched out, practically lying down (as long as the cat hasn’t comandeered the other end). And it has an arm, another of my must-haves. I am quite a lazy person, and the thought of holding a book in front of me for several hours makes me tired, let alone actually doing it. But I find having an arm to rest my elbow on takes away some of the fatigue long time reading can bring.

    And couches are comfortable. They are designed to be sat on by people for long periods of time, so have cushioning but underneath firm frames that stop your back from giving out.

    But I have a friend who swears by reading at the bottom of an oak tree. He has a specific tree (god help the council if they ever decide to chop it down!!), which he feels has the exact right grooves in the trunk into which he fits. He assures me that it is the most enjoyable place he reads, but to me, the thought of leaning against a solid hardwood doesn’t make me think good thoughts. (No comments from the cheap seats please.)

    The key to a good seat: Am I comfortable and supported?

    The lighting

    How many of us can honestly say they have NEVER attempted to read a book in bad light? Be it trying to get a chapter finished before the sun goes down, or reading by torchlight under your duvet when your mum’s told you it’s time for bed. Or have you tried to create a romantic, ambient setting to match your current Mills and Boon by lighting candles around the room? Every single one of these examples is bad for your eyes and can stop you from reading as much as you would like because your eyes get tired from squinting or you end up with a headache.

    Ideally, wherever you read should have a clear and bright light source. If you are outside, this may result in you having to move indoors as the sun sets, or if you are lucky enough to have a front or back porch to sit on, invest in some lighting you can put on at dusk. Indoors, a lamp next to your reading space or a central light is essential.

    I myself don’t like direct light shining on my book, so I have a light shade that throws the light upwards and away from the page. For me, having a light shining straight onto the text makes it too bright (I’m one of the many who has a degree of light sensitivity in my eyes, so too much brightness can result in headaches that register 4.5 on the Richter). It also stops glare on white pages.

    I’ve never used those little reading lights that clip onto the side or top of the book and illuminate the page without causing a nuisance to your bedmate or fellow passenger on public transport, but I can’t imagine they provide enough light.

    Oh, and another point, don’t be like me and attempt to read using the light from the TV. You only end up making yourself crossed eyed and having to go back and re-read everything the next day anyway!!

    The key to good lighting: Can I see the words on the page clearly, without shadows on the page and without squinting?

    The table

    Some people may be questioning whether or not a table is really a reading essential, and I concede sometimes it’s not. However, for many people, reading involves bookmarks, coffee, maybe some cake, cigarettes or a nice glass of wine (my reading experience personally involves all of the above). And they all need to go somewhere.

    For couch/armchair readers like myself, sometimes the arm of the chair does the job. But I have covered myself, the floor and the sofa in too much cigarette ash for that to be a good choice anymore. (Plus, have you ever tried balancing a wine glass on a circular arm? Doesn’t go very well, let me assure you.) And it’s too easy for a bookmark to slide down the side of the cushion and join the old mints, £3.65 in change and an old newspaper in the no man’s land under the couch cushions.

    Or many people put their stuff on the floor. I find bending down a bit of a distraction mid-read, so for me it’s no good.

    Nope, as mentioned earlier, I go for the coffee table, which can hold all my things and I can put my weary feet on it.

    The key to a good reading table is: Does it hold everything I need and is it within easy reach?

    Indoors or outdoors?

    Ahhh, now here’s a divisive topic. Right off the bat: I hate reading outside. I’m not a very “outdoorsy” person, and I live in Scotland where it’s only warm enough to read outdoors two months of the year. I like the comfort of being inside, away from people, away from insects and most importantly, away from bird shit, as I have this long-running fear that if I stay in the one place outside for too long, something will eventually take a crap on me.

    But I understand that other people feel a connection with nature and the great wide world outside the front door. And it definitely has benefits: You can work on your tan while reading, you are getting fresh air, and you can take in the beauty of your surroundings while reading. And the noises (a topic we will explore soon) can help you settle into the book. Oh, and reading in a park can allow for a bit of people watching (I especially like watching local footballers training).

    The key to indoors or outdoors: Am I scared of bird crap?

    The sound

    Background noise can complement or completely ruin a reading experience, depending on what that sound is. The sound of workmen digging up pipes right outside your window, for example, isn’t the best sound to accompany a good book. But the right song/album/natural noise can enhance the experience, and actually allow the reader to become more engrossed in the story.

    To give a brief example: I like to listen to the same album throughout a book. For me, I usually find an album that captures the themes or tone of a novel and go with that. It also helps me create a sense-memory aspect to the situation. If I hear one of the songs, I am taken back to what happened in that book. I did this with the Twilight books. I was reading and decided I need some music to set the scene. So I flicked through my iPod until I came to Dido’s Life For Rent, which I realised would fit in with some of the themes of the book (the album deals with relationships, the end of relationships, moving on, those sorts of things) and used that. Now for me, that album will be associated with the books, and whenever I hear it, my mind is instantly and involuntarily drawn back to specific moments from the book, and how I felt reading it.

    And some people prefer silence to read. Noise can provide as much of a distraction as a tool, so sometimes it is better to just switch everything off and focus solely on the words on the page.

    The key to sound: What won’t distract me, or lessen my reading experience?

    So there you have it, my guide to finding your perfect reading spot. Ultimately, what the whole issue boils down to is what works best for you.

    Please feel free to let me know where you like to read, and what you need around you to enjoy a good book by emailing alldunn_katy@yahoo.co.uk

    Katy Gordon

  • Soapbox: Who Defanged The Vampires?

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    Who Defanged The Vampires?

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    I read a lot of books during the course of a year (2009 saw me work my way through over 30 of them) and not all of them are great. I do not pretend to be an academic when it comes to the analysis of novels – although I loved English at school, that was always the part of the class I dreaded. And I don’t think you SHOULD analyse books, they exist to create a different world, offer new perspectives and to invoke feeling and emotion within the reader.

    But, having said that, my job is to do just that!! But be warned, anyone expecting high brow, intellectual breakdowns of the subtext of the latest Lionel Shriver offering should probably go elsewhere. My opinions are more of the “that bitch couldn’t write her way out of a paper bag”. And if anyone notices any traces of bitterness creeping in, that’s because there is. I am a would-be novelist trying to fit writing around a career and running my home.

    Anyway, onto the subject at hand…

    I remember when vampires were scary and the mere utterance of the word “Dracula” could have you checking over your shoulder to make sure someone wasn’t trying to drain you via your throat. Where readers made sure their windows were firmly closed before going to bed, lest a vampire in bat form flies in and catches you sleeping. Images of the immortal who could only be slain by a stake through the heart or decapitation used to plague my nightmares for weeks after reading.

    In short, vampires were bad-ass. The amazing thing was that they didn’t have a conscience, so weren’t held back by the morals and social norms of the day – they were free to feast and raise hell without thought for consequences or those around them. The vampire lifestyle was truly a pursuit of hedonism. And a person with no limitations and a lust for human blood is truly a terrifying concept, especially when they have supernatural powers and incredible physicality.

    And they were sexy. Partly because of the aforementioned bad-assery, but mainly because they were written that way. Vampires use their good looks, pale skin and often hypnotic eyes to attract unsuspecting victims to get close enough to take a bite out of. And the sexuality of vampires is tied into the lack of concern for societal conformity or moral code. Bisexuality, multiple partners and other sordid sex acts are alluded to or graphically detailed in vampire books. And it’s not just a modern concept, the sex of vampires goes back centuries.

    In 1872, a book called “Carmilla” written by Sheridan Le Fanu depicted a woman targeted by a lesbian vampire who adopts a new persona and stays with the victim’s family, transforming at night and feasting on her while she sleeps. This book served as a prototype for future lesbian vampire offerings, although it wasn’t hugely overt in it’s sexualising of the situation.

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    But surely the quintessential vampire novel has to be Bram Stoker’s Dracula, which has served as inspiration for nearly every vampire novel that followed it, the good, the bad and the ugly.

    Written by Irish author Bram Stoker at the end of the 1800s, Dracula is a book that has been broken down and reassessed for as long as it has existed. And for good reason. It is has the elements nearly everyone would associate with a vampire story.

    It is sexy: Johnathan Harker is targeted in the night by three buxom and sexually available women, and the hypnotic charms of Dracula hint that there is a supernatural draw to these creatures.

    It is scary: People being attacked in the night by unknown assailants, Dracula stalks his prey, watching them when they think they are alone. He is pretty much like a shadow.

    It is balanced: Dracula is not an emotional being. It is not part of his make up. He is an animal, who doesn’t show feeling for his prey. No, the emotion of the story comes from the humans, who mourn, get angry and seek revenge. And that is how it should be.

    But now we have a different breed of vampires, who brood, who don’t eat human flesh, who love human women and who seem to have had their fangs removed at the same time as their balls.

    And do you know who I blame for this? Not Stephenie Meyer, who while she has made this situation worse by creating a book so sweet and puppy dog-ish that millions of teens were bound to fall under it’s spell, didn’t set the trend. Not Joss Whedon, who, while I adore him and everything he has done, created a good looking vampire sullied by a soul who did the “dark and broody” thing to death. Not the myriad writers who have tried the old formula of love between two people with different backgrounds (a post-mortem Romeo and Juliet, if you will).

    Nope, to look for the culprit, I have to go back to the 1970s to Anne Rice. Yep, the one and only. The woman responsible for Interview with the Vampire and the rest of the Vampire Chronicles. She created characters who stop to think about what they are doing, the effects the actions have and bemoan the life they have. She tries and affixes her own morals to a tale that really shouldn’t have any (except for the whole if you are bad, bad things will happen to you which comes when good invariably triumphs over evil).

    Lestat, while on the surface is a man who enjoys being undead and all that that entails, is actually lonely and often questions the right and wrong of his existence. He tries to defend himself to people who question his actions or motives.

    And in Memnoch the Devil it gets downright ludicrous when Lestat helps ensure no bloodshed during a battle between rival factions.

    Let me repeat that: A VAMPIRE MAKES SURE THERE ARE NO DEATHS IN A FIGHT.

    This is unfathomable. Dracula would have ensured that all people on both sides were slain and he had enough time to drain them all before making his escape. That is the way it should be.

    Stephenie Meyer doesn’t even give the readers anything that resembles a traditional vampire. In interviews, the author (and I do use that term loosely, because although the idea was reasonable, the execution was miserable) freely admits she did no research on vampires while writing. That’s how we end up with vampires who don’t have sex, don’t drink human blood and SPARKLE IN THE BLOODY SUNLIGHT!

    Everyone knows that vamps dust, not sparkle, Stephenie.

    And instead of at least giving him a thirst for sex, the writer decides to make him chaste and unwilling to have sex before marriage.

    (I must interject here in the interests of full disclosure: I have read the Twilight saga a few times. I have the first two films on Blu Ray. This is not because of the vampire aspect, in as much as I want to sex Rob Pattinson and my inner teen is a fat chick who wishes she could get the hot guy. But these books almost use the vampire angle as an incidental, it is a love story more than anything else. For vamps, I have much better reading material.)

    And alas, the commercial success of the Twilight saga, which has broken previous records for number of books sold on opening night, means that inevitably carbon copies will flood our bookshelves, just like what happened post-Da Vinci Code.

    Anne Rice has a lot to answer for, and I don’t just mean for turning Lestat into a literary vessel for her to spout her own crap about life and being famous and such. She has led the way for a slew of watered down, under-nourished and wimpy vampires who I as a mere human wouldn’t be scared to take on.

    What we need is a renaissance of the traditional vampire: The sexy, scary beast that turns into a bat, sneaks into your room, puts you under a hypnotic charm and sucks the life out of you. What we don’t need is any more limp wristed, human loving, guilt feeling pussies who would rather cuddle than bite a girl’s neck!

    Katy Gordon