The Boy Who Was Crazy

I was reading a great post about following trends, specifically in literature, on Glass Cases, a blog by literary agent Sarah LaPolla. This led to the decision that in honor of the change in layout I was going to be silly on the blog today.

The blog post got me to thinking. Of course, because it's me, I wasn't thinking about any of the amazing points Ms. LaPolla brought up in her blog post. Instead, I was pulling myself out of suspended disbelief and thinking about the ridiculousness of Harry Potter's story.

Ultimate praise or rejection activates my skeptic's senses, even if I agree with the sentiment. As annoying as it may sound to you, I have to live with the curse, as Spiderman has to live with his. This is why I don't usually voice my opinions--great power, great responsibility. Naturally when, in the the Glass Cases blog post, I got to the part about Rowling's stories as "timeless" my brain automatically wracked itself to find a reason why these books are not, in fact, timeless. It couldn't. They are timeless.

Don't get me wrong, the old noggin came up with some good points. At one juncture, it brought up the fact that the-boy-who-lived isn't timeless, Potter is just stuffed down our throats every year since the release of the first movie. We have to endure an onslaught of Potter films for months. Some time before the release ABC Family's playing the film and as the movies come, accumulated films. They continue on while the new film opens in theaters, and go on through the holiday season (a couple of awesome holiday scenes in a film does not a holiday movie make). Harry Potter might now be a holiday staple. I wonder what will be done this year since there are no more movie releases. If the movies play on ABC Family regardless, we're stuck with Harry Potter for all of forever.

This wasn't a good argument. The series was already famous before the movies were produced. I believe LaPolla answers this by the end of her blog post. In the literary world, Potter was cool when the books was popular, by the time they were stuffing the films down our throats, the new trends were catching fire.

Noggin had a retort and this is the silly part. It chose to argue upon the grounds that the story is ridiculous, which is ridiculousness itself. Of course, the story isn't logical in comparison to reality. It's fantasy; that's the point. But noggin's point wasn't that it was ridiculous based on the fact that it's fantastic, no, noggin was making a stoner's argument.

(Here's the argument plain and simple cause it's getting hard to keep up this dual persona.)

I was thinking, what if the Harry Potter kid is just pulling a Sucker Punch? I mean, without respect to author intent, it's plausible. This kid that's living a life almost as bad a the Baudelaire kids, probably worst if you don't count the Baudelaire's villain*, could plausibly have invented this other life where the evil wasn't his racist (magicist?, normalist?, idk...) relatives, but one that was far worst in terms of deed, yet far easier to ultimately defeat... Harry Potter is a Sucker Punch.

I told noggin that attacking the literary nature of the story was a logical fallacy and didn't prove whether or not Harry Potter is truly timeless. My brain had lost this battle and surely even the war. I reminded noggin that we actually loved J.K. Rowling's stories and that they were a big part of our childhood. Noggin relented, for now.

And that's me being a tad bit silly. TA-DA!

* I haven't finished the series yet. After the first three books, there could be some twists or revelations that prove my point wrong.

Heads Up

I changed some things on the blog. The color scheme is a little lighter. A comment elsewhere on the internet made me think all the grey and shadow might not be ideal for seeing. I write a lot sometimes, that coupled with the dark might not be good for people's eyes. Plus, I had the other scheme for a time now, which means time for a change. I went grey and red (technically, pink, but pink is technically red... so that's that).

I moved some things around too. Twitter has been demoted to a couple of spaces below because it wasn't cooperating with the color scheme change. You mess with the bull you get the horn, Twitters!

I guess that's it. I just wanted everyone to see better so I lit the place up a bit and threw the shadows to the back. Let me know in the comments if there are any problems. If it's not light enough, too distracting, if you want more color, just let me know. I'll do it. I have the power to, ask Twitter box down there. It'll be nothing but rainbows and glitter and sunshine if you ask. (But please don't cause I really don't want to do that.)

Yesterday's News

The New York Times: Arts Beat, Previously Unpublished Vonnegut Novella to Be Released, Julie Bosman.

This new Vonnegut novella sounds pretty cool. I had to read Cat's Cradle my freshman year in college and loved the cynical comedy in it. It's funny because it's sad and sad because it's funny, nobody knew this better than Vonnegut. I can't wait to get a chance to read the novella.

The Lacuna: Update

Part 2

Washington, D.C.
1932-1934
(v.b)

I've made it to Part 2 of The Lacuna, as you can see above.

It's good.

Google found some news about the book, a review from the Isthmus Daily Page. It's a bit spoilery, but based on my meager 80-page reading of the novel, I agree that the novel is good. It's already shaping up to be a very satisfying read. The language is beautiful, and there's witty sarcasm, but Kingsolver doesn't write as if she knows the writing is smart. Particularly, I agree with Becky Holmes's opinion that, "[Barbara Kingsolver's] descriptions of life in Mexico are really engrossing." --My opinion as well. 

reading book by pear83
http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1368361

Books I've Never Read

I'm not going to list all the books I've never read, obviously, that would take entirely more time than I have left in my life and it would be a waste of time. But I was intrigued by this Time mag. slide of "Top Ten Books We're Forced to Read in School.(2010)"

I've only read one, maybe two.

I was forced to read William Golding's Lord of the Flies around 9th or 10th grade, and I vaguely remember Animal Farm around 11th--I definitely remember watching the movie. It was interesting enough for school work. I use to love when we read books. But it doesn't seem like my academic curricula put much effort into the staples of literary excellence (tm). Our classroom reading lists weren't skimpy though. I remember reading Romeo and Juliet around 9th or 10th grade as well. We read "A Modest Proposal" in a social science class--11th grade I think.

Before secondary school I remember being assigned a number a books I count as my childhood favorites: Where the Red Fern Grows (6th grade), Timothy and the Cay(?), Hatchet and Lupita Manana (7th grade). We watched Shiloh. I don't remember reading it though.

There's a story, kind of, that goes with my lack of knowledge on this. I remember picking, maybe I was picked, to read Where the Red Fern Grows during something that, at least in retrospect, looks like an experiment in learning. We were divided into several groups that were assigned to read one of about three books: Where the Red Fern Grows, Shiloh, or Old Yeller. I remember the silent readings we had in the classroom, which was actually one of the science rooms with the black slate lab tables cause my reading teacher pulled double duty. It's a cool memory. I use to love reading in school, but ironically, I never liked to participate in the summer reading lists.

Anyway, besides the two books mentioned above. I don't remember being forced to read any of the others. For years, even while I was in school, I was always baffled at what other people said they had to read for class. It made me wonder if I had missed out on something.

A Good Idea Bad Idea Take On Creativity

From Brainpickings via @joe_hill on twitter
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/03/08/steal-like-an-artist-austin-kleon-book/

The above should get rid of any questions in the debate about what constitutes plagiarism. It's simple, therefore easy to understand.

Do, do and don't, do.

Done.

Nan. I'd Pick The Bird...

[Director's cut 12/27/12:

So. There's this song we use to sing in elementary school. It was about this boy who's told to go to the store and get some bread by his pops. He obviously didn't want to go. This was like a chore to him. Like any other child engaged in a tedious chore that they do not want to be tasked with this little boy daydreamed and from this day dream came a song. It's called, according to the Lyrics Animals link, "I'm Glad I'm Me."

Feeling nostalgic for this time period I looked up the song on the old internets and found the link below. I may have forgotten some of the lyrics in the link because all I can remember is Sammy wanting to spread his wings to get the loaf for his old man. The rest of the guys in the linked lyrics are nil in my brain. I use to like this song. It was fun to sing as a youngster I'm sure. Now though, I don't believe I appreciate the possible destination of the lyrics. I get the intention, a "the grass is always greener," type of message, but I don't appreciate what that could mean for little Sammy. I have some reservations about what Sam's new found self-confidence (also read as complacency) can do to his potential. What I mean by this is, what if Orville and Wilbur didn't dream of flight like a bird and were complacent with being plain old two legged them? No planes, right? 

So I say, dream of flight Sammy and maybe one day you'll get to fly to the story for your faaa - ther.]







Lyrics Animals

And So It Begins

reading book by pear83
http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1368361

I just started reading both books I bought at the store about two weeks ago. I read the first chapter of Spook Country on Saturday and have been reading bits and pieces of The Lacuna, up to page 28, since the purchase. So far both are turning out to be very intriguing reads. 


The Lacuna, Barbara Kingsolver: is, so far, about a boy and his mother. They both have left America for Mexico after, and in some way surely, because of, his mother and father's hanging divorce. His mother takes flight with a man by the name of Enrique--who is something like the evil step mother of this fairy tale rather than the prince charming. She's a flighty, childish, idealistic woman--a bad combination for any adult-- that in her own way loves her son, but it's all too possible that she loves herself a little more. Without a father and with a mother too preoccupied with becoming a wife, the boy makes due with the friendship he finds in the house cook. 

The beginning of the novel tracks him from flutie boyhood to flutie young manhood. His friendship with the cook, his books, and his writing keeps him together while life, relentless and confounding, drives him forward into adulthood. (This sounds like I read the whole novel, but no, I  only read 28 pages. I'm guessing it's because of  the literary fiction format that this sounds so full.)


Spook Country, William Gibson: is, so far, the story of Hollis, a freelance Node reporter. Node is a tech magazine/e-zine, or maybe just e-zine. Spook Country is written in what, evidently, is William Gibson's style--cyberpunk, meaning technology is not your friend. This would actually be my first foyer into his (both author's) work. I should start with Neromancer, but I found this one and hope it doesn't disrupt the quality any. I learned what I know mostly from the linked interview, Wikipedia, and other bits of information I've gleaned at odd and random times. 

The narrative is listless. The tech-filled world bores Hollis or is too relentless in it's encroachment for her, so she's tired of it. It's like she's wearily acquiesced to the fact that a Legobot is vacuuming the hotel room and that she has to work for this tech-mag cause she's strapped for cash. She has no other choice. It's all around her.

He leaves a bit of bait at the end of the chapter. Some new technology that's pretty cool. Very intriguing. Some possibilities and many questions surface. 


I'm having fun with the books so far. Can't wait to see where these beginnings, rich and intriguing, take me.