The Book Club is Back

Late April of this year, my sis Hannah, our friend George, and I decided to start a little book club. God knows why, though I suppose it had something to do with the three of us coincidentally reading the same book, Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, around the same time. And I guess we three have enjoyed reading, separately, for most of our lives -- and we had toyed with the idea of a book club a few times before.

The stars seemed right, so we began with my choice, A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore. I think I needed its light humor after a five-day whirlwind through Jane Eyre. Which I enjoyed a lot, yes, but I am not the kind of guy who can handle these large, old books one after the other. So I break it up -- Dirty Job proved to be a great way to wind down. The two other members seemed to enjoy it too. At least, George had nothing very negative to say, and Hannah has picked up two or three Moore books since. The club was off to a good start.

In early June Hannah picked our second book, Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman. Yes, the book was as mediocre as the Bullock/Kidman movie based on it. It was a very feeble attempt at "girl-y" fiction -- oh heck, it was a lame attempt at fiction, period.

And that was the end of an era. Practical Magic may have dampened are enthusiasm a little and George dragged her feet with choosing the next book. The club was completely dead during the summer, probably the best time to have a book club on account of the free time. Hannah tried to bring it back with Margaret Atwoods Handmaid's Tale, but ultimately only she read it.

Now it very well could be back, with my selection of And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. Here's hoping, kiddo.

Book Review: The Hard Goodbye, by Frank Miller

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I thought the Sin City movie was great, when I watched it on DVD in 2007... Since then, the wait for Sin City 2 has been a bit of a pain. (OK, I don't agonise about it every second, but it would be nice to see.) I've flirted with reading the graphic novels on several occasions, until I finally got a hold of the first in the series. I'm going to take a leap here and call it the best.

As has been said, the story in this graphic novel was one of three plotlines in the movie. As has not been said, it was by far the best -- in my eyes, it bumped the movie from a C+/B- to a solid A. In a world full of hokey monologues and manly bad-assery, Marv outshines them all -- both in the movie, with Micky Rourke's stand-out performance, and as it turns out, in the graphic novel.

I am a big fan of highly-quotable, "B" movies. Some are so "bad" unintentionally, like Mommie Dearest, while productions like Sin City obviously took a lot of effort to be so hokey. Some people are turned off by the supposed testosterone-fuelled orgy -- I see it all as one big joke. I, and my kinsfolk, were laughing throughout the movie, in a good way.

As for specific scenes, who could forget the opening? (Apparently "She smells how angels oughta smell.") And how about the ending? ("Can we get a move on? I haven't got all night," says Marv in the electric chair.) Two classic moments that serve as the bread to an absolutely delicious sandwich.

Well, I've gone and made this review mostly about the movie, but that isn't completely inappropriate -- the two are remarkably similar. Must be Miller's famed cinematic style, and it couldn't hurt that he had a major role in the production of the movie.

The book has only a few minor differences. Marv never visits his mother in the movie, for example, and of course this GN only includes the one plotline. I prefer it that way -- every time I see Nancy in the book I think of Jessica Alba's horrific performance. I still cringed a little at "Sure, Marv. Who's the babe?"

But, overall, the book is shorter, and sweeter for it.

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The Shakespeare Challenge: A Rundown

Funny how life works. My relationship with Shakespeare was virtually nil -- aside from those infamous mandatory school readings -- until one day in late August 2009, when my sis brought home a big bag of things she had pilfered from her school's Lost&Found. It was mostly old gym clothes and a few coats, but there also happened to be a student's copy of Hamlet in the mix. On a whim, I snatched it and stole away to the smoky confines of my room. (This was probably the best solution as my sister, evil little capitalist that she is, might have made me pay; she made me pay a dollar for a pair of dress shoes from the bag -- wench.) She never made a fuss about it so...

A few days later, I had built up enough courage and free time to begin reading my first Shakespeare play since my high school days. I still have not built a concrete opinion of the play, but I must have enjoyed it -- it was soon followed by Macbeth, Antony and Cleopatra, Twelfth Night, and Tempest.

I must have really enjoyed it -- hence the challenge alluded to in the post title: to read every play authored, or possibly authored, by Shakespeare. The goal is, at the very least, to become familiar with the plots, language, and characters. This will likely open the door for re-readings of my favorites and maybe even *shudder* a little literary criticism. The ultimate goal is to see each play live, though I may have to settle for a DVD in some cases. I look forward to exploring the BBC productions, particularly of the more obscure plays, which, so I read, tend to be better-produced than most of the big hitters.

I am not sure when I came upon the idea and I am not sure why I am so enthusiastic, but the conviction is there. I know, from my reading, Shakespeare can be a lot of fun. And at times, no doubt, it will feel like a never-ending slog. I cringe a little at all those history plays -- is Falstaff fat and drunk enough to keep my mind from the drudgery of English history? And just how bad is the greatest English writer's worst work? And can I handle reading about people carrying their own hands? (Horror of horrors, I think I can!)

But I suppose these concerns are merely deck chairs now; I best soldier on with my copies of King Lear and All's Well That Ends Well. Perhaps I will finish this challenge late next year, perhaps as my 2010 New Years resolution (that's kind of my thing now). Or am I doomed to years of wandering?

Until the answer comes, fyi, I am still chugging along with the Aeneid, nearly to Book VIII. I am determined to finish before the month is out -- wild harpies couldn't stop me.

Book Review: Flight: Volume One

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

"A collection of short comics by an array of people who look awfully hip; I was drawn in by the pretty colors." I wrote that before I started this book and I assure you it still holds true, but I can add a few things:

I read my first graphic novel in early 2009 and I have been hooked ever since, but I am still not sold on the idea of super short graphic stories. Sure, these mysterious little things called "comic books" have done well for themselves, but still, anything shorter than sixteen pages makes me squirm a little.

I generally like my non-fiction short and to the point, while fiction I prefer plump and fleshed out. The old problem of creating a whole world within a short space is terribly amplified when an author has only a few hundred words and some pictures to tell his story. In fact, I have noticed that many short comics have trouble just with telling a complete story -- set aside things like character and world development.

I have read a few fantastic short comics -- including one that will always stick, by Will Eisner -- and I have read a lot of junk. This collection continues the trend, with around five enjoyable, memorable stories from the total twenty-five. The rest, well, some make you wonder what just happened to the time; still others lead you to weakly say, "Good effort..."

Some of these stories have "hipster" written on every page, while others feel oddly mainstream. No doubt these authors are (or were, in 2004) the up-and-coming stars of "underground comics" (that are not especially underground), mixed in with some chaff for good measure. But I feel I must applaud all these authors, for being the movers and shakers, for keeping things moving, if only slightly.

I love the variety of art styles in this book -- yes, some styles more than others, but variety is spice enough for me. And I enjoyed the number of attempts at wordless- or near-wordless stories, a sub-sub-genre that is even less developed and untapped.

I suppose I very easily could have given this two stars, but something about its spunk and vigour made me bump it up to a solid three. If you want something different, something that at least isn't boring -- read this.

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