Book Recs: Immaturity is Highly Rated
Friday, July 11th, 2008 10:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
retsukoAll the books that I've read this week have one thing in common: they're about maturity, and/or the utter lack of it, or they're just-on-the-cusp-of-coming-of-age stories; namely, that weird epiphany when you're a teenager and you realize what to you mattered more than the whole, entire world one moment ago now is a tiny, insignificant concern. Each of the books below tackled that idea in its own way, and the conclusions reached are wildly different.
From the Minx line (Vertigo comics): The New York Four and Waterbaby:
The Minx line releases so far this year eschew tidy, definitive endings in favor of leaving the heroines exactly where we found them at the beginning of the story: in medias res, with only a slightly clearer sense of where they're going and what they need to do to get there than when they started. Of these two latest selections, I found The New York Four a lot more accessible, mostly because I could relate to the main character, Riley, a shy, sheltered girl who is finding herself in her first year of college and in the Big City. Along with three friends from her literature class, she tries to negotiate finding a living space, pleasing her parents, and reconciling with her Black Sheep Big Sister, who is much older and had a big falling out with the parents. (One of the most emotionally satisfying background stories within in the larger plot is the baby-steps Riley's parents are making towards reconciliation with their wayward daughter.) Riley is distracted, though, by instant messages from a mysterious boy she knows only as "Sneakerfreak" who she completely falls for, nearly losing her friends, family, and grades in the process. The art work in this graphic novel was a little busy/crowded at first, but after a while, I found that the style fit in with the story quite nicely. The side notes about the author's/illustrator's favorite places in New York City were interesting and cute, although I suppose they would be nothing new to residents of the City. My only major quibble with this book is its racial issues; Riley's two "ethnic" friends are never developed beyond their racial stereotypes, or just two-dimensional characters: Merissa, the Latina, juggles many boyfriends, is firey and passionate, and flirts her way into an educational program that all four characters are involved with; Lona Lo, the token Asian character, is never developed beyond the revelation that she's stalking one of her professors, which none of the other characters know about or comment on. This is somewhat disturbing and more than a little disappointing, especially considering the motto of the entire book line is "Your Life. Your Books." The New York Four is a mixed bag of a book, and the ghost of a powerful narrative is lurking around the edges, but never quite shows itself.
Waterbaby, on the other hand, has a completely different heroine and plot: Florida surfer girl Brody is crude and vulgar, all in-your-face attitude, until she's attacked by a shark and one of her legs is bitten off. It's bad enough learning to walk with a prosthetic leg and becoming a minor celebrity, but things go from bad to worse when Brody's mother gives her rotten ex-boyfriend, Jake, Brody's new phone number and address and Jake moves into Brody's life, mooching food and drinks from Brody and her best friend Louisa. Eventually, the three of them embark on a road trip up the coast towards New York. The strongest part of Waterbaby is the disturbing dreams that Brody experiences after the attack, where the shark chases her onto land, moves into her apartment, and devours Louisa. In later variations of the nightmare, Brody dreams of growing a shark's fin, sharpening her teeth and trying to defend her friend, but never quite succeeds. These parts of the story seem to hint at the woman Brody could become: strong, aggressive, capable of standing up for herself and her friend. The sexual tension between Brody and Louisa is prevalent through the whole story, and often commented on by Jake (or his thoughts) and other characters; how realistic this was is difficult to gauge. Brody is not the world's most likable character, but I wanted her to succeed in spite of herself, and I desperately wanted this book to end differently, for Brody to be farther along. Still, it's a weirdly satisfying little book and apparently it's selling well--the comic book store guy said their first order had sold out the week before.
From the Mix line (and here, the IP paralegal in me senses trademark infringement with the confusion of similarly named goods, as I bought this one completely by accident, thinking it was Minx), Chiggers, by Hope Larson, which is a relatively straightforward coming-of-age story set in a summer camp, somewhere in the mountains. The best thing this book has going for it is Larson's art. Each panel looks like its own woodcarving print and Larson has a good sense of balance when it comes to her nighttime scenes of black and white. The other strong element of the book is that Larson manages to capture the weirdly capricious nature of friendships you make at any camp--the fragile alliances, the absent friends, the love interest. They're all here and portrayed with great fondness. This book isn't particularly deep, but it was a good read, and I wish I could find a tween or teen to share it with now.
And, on the teenager kick, Volume 4 of Runaways, which collects issues 25-30, when Joss Whedon guest-wrote. It's a good premise, and brings in a lot of other superhero characters (seeing Princess Powerful punch out The Punisher was incredibly amusing; her subsequent freak-out about not hitting those without powers was entertaining, too.) Our characters also time travel back to 1907 New York and encounter more superheroes, learn more about themselves, and even bring back a new recruit. I enjoyed it well enough, but it wasn't as satisfying as the earlier compilations, probably because it was so short. And also because Gertrude is not in it. I understand that characters die and stories move on, but some bit of the plot's soul died with her, and I'm not seeing it get back on its legs they way that it needs to. Joss is a good writer, and there are some funny one-liners, but the story feels lightweight compared to what the previous narratives were like. Still, great illustration as always. I'm in love with the coloring job, because all the characters (particularly Karolina in her "alien" form) are so luminously beautiful. This book would not be a good place for a new reader to get into the story.
And, finally, completely different from all the previous titles, I finished W. Somerset Maugham's The Painted Veil. I saw the movie recently, and was curious how the screenplay would stack up against the original. And I'm somewhat sorry to report that movie's screen play completely twists the ending to what amounts to fan fiction (and I mean that in a bad way.) Maugham's ending, while understated, is a lot more satisfying in that the main character comes to a series of realizations that force her to grow up by showing her there are no easy answers, and every human has to reconcile that and move on with their lives. The movie's ending, although romantic and tear-inducing, lets the main character off far too gently. After reading the book, I was certain she had changed, deep within her soul; but after watching the movie, I thought, well, she got her way in the end, so I suppose that's good. The movie is gorgeous and lovingly filmed, but I think the book is a far superior achievement.
From the Minx line (Vertigo comics): The New York Four and Waterbaby:
The Minx line releases so far this year eschew tidy, definitive endings in favor of leaving the heroines exactly where we found them at the beginning of the story: in medias res, with only a slightly clearer sense of where they're going and what they need to do to get there than when they started. Of these two latest selections, I found The New York Four a lot more accessible, mostly because I could relate to the main character, Riley, a shy, sheltered girl who is finding herself in her first year of college and in the Big City. Along with three friends from her literature class, she tries to negotiate finding a living space, pleasing her parents, and reconciling with her Black Sheep Big Sister, who is much older and had a big falling out with the parents. (One of the most emotionally satisfying background stories within in the larger plot is the baby-steps Riley's parents are making towards reconciliation with their wayward daughter.) Riley is distracted, though, by instant messages from a mysterious boy she knows only as "Sneakerfreak" who she completely falls for, nearly losing her friends, family, and grades in the process. The art work in this graphic novel was a little busy/crowded at first, but after a while, I found that the style fit in with the story quite nicely. The side notes about the author's/illustrator's favorite places in New York City were interesting and cute, although I suppose they would be nothing new to residents of the City. My only major quibble with this book is its racial issues; Riley's two "ethnic" friends are never developed beyond their racial stereotypes, or just two-dimensional characters: Merissa, the Latina, juggles many boyfriends, is firey and passionate, and flirts her way into an educational program that all four characters are involved with; Lona Lo, the token Asian character, is never developed beyond the revelation that she's stalking one of her professors, which none of the other characters know about or comment on. This is somewhat disturbing and more than a little disappointing, especially considering the motto of the entire book line is "Your Life. Your Books." The New York Four is a mixed bag of a book, and the ghost of a powerful narrative is lurking around the edges, but never quite shows itself.
Waterbaby, on the other hand, has a completely different heroine and plot: Florida surfer girl Brody is crude and vulgar, all in-your-face attitude, until she's attacked by a shark and one of her legs is bitten off. It's bad enough learning to walk with a prosthetic leg and becoming a minor celebrity, but things go from bad to worse when Brody's mother gives her rotten ex-boyfriend, Jake, Brody's new phone number and address and Jake moves into Brody's life, mooching food and drinks from Brody and her best friend Louisa. Eventually, the three of them embark on a road trip up the coast towards New York. The strongest part of Waterbaby is the disturbing dreams that Brody experiences after the attack, where the shark chases her onto land, moves into her apartment, and devours Louisa. In later variations of the nightmare, Brody dreams of growing a shark's fin, sharpening her teeth and trying to defend her friend, but never quite succeeds. These parts of the story seem to hint at the woman Brody could become: strong, aggressive, capable of standing up for herself and her friend. The sexual tension between Brody and Louisa is prevalent through the whole story, and often commented on by Jake (or his thoughts) and other characters; how realistic this was is difficult to gauge. Brody is not the world's most likable character, but I wanted her to succeed in spite of herself, and I desperately wanted this book to end differently, for Brody to be farther along. Still, it's a weirdly satisfying little book and apparently it's selling well--the comic book store guy said their first order had sold out the week before.
From the Mix line (and here, the IP paralegal in me senses trademark infringement with the confusion of similarly named goods, as I bought this one completely by accident, thinking it was Minx), Chiggers, by Hope Larson, which is a relatively straightforward coming-of-age story set in a summer camp, somewhere in the mountains. The best thing this book has going for it is Larson's art. Each panel looks like its own woodcarving print and Larson has a good sense of balance when it comes to her nighttime scenes of black and white. The other strong element of the book is that Larson manages to capture the weirdly capricious nature of friendships you make at any camp--the fragile alliances, the absent friends, the love interest. They're all here and portrayed with great fondness. This book isn't particularly deep, but it was a good read, and I wish I could find a tween or teen to share it with now.
And, on the teenager kick, Volume 4 of Runaways, which collects issues 25-30, when Joss Whedon guest-wrote. It's a good premise, and brings in a lot of other superhero characters (seeing Princess Powerful punch out The Punisher was incredibly amusing; her subsequent freak-out about not hitting those without powers was entertaining, too.) Our characters also time travel back to 1907 New York and encounter more superheroes, learn more about themselves, and even bring back a new recruit. I enjoyed it well enough, but it wasn't as satisfying as the earlier compilations, probably because it was so short. And also because Gertrude is not in it. I understand that characters die and stories move on, but some bit of the plot's soul died with her, and I'm not seeing it get back on its legs they way that it needs to. Joss is a good writer, and there are some funny one-liners, but the story feels lightweight compared to what the previous narratives were like. Still, great illustration as always. I'm in love with the coloring job, because all the characters (particularly Karolina in her "alien" form) are so luminously beautiful. This book would not be a good place for a new reader to get into the story.
And, finally, completely different from all the previous titles, I finished W. Somerset Maugham's The Painted Veil. I saw the movie recently, and was curious how the screenplay would stack up against the original. And I'm somewhat sorry to report that movie's screen play completely twists the ending to what amounts to fan fiction (and I mean that in a bad way.) Maugham's ending, while understated, is a lot more satisfying in that the main character comes to a series of realizations that force her to grow up by showing her there are no easy answers, and every human has to reconcile that and move on with their lives. The movie's ending, although romantic and tear-inducing, lets the main character off far too gently. After reading the book, I was certain she had changed, deep within her soul; but after watching the movie, I thought, well, she got her way in the end, so I suppose that's good. The movie is gorgeous and lovingly filmed, but I think the book is a far superior achievement.
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no subject
Date: 2008-07-11 09:30 pm (UTC)It's very tiring the way films continually twist endings to meet a certain lowest common denominator (which I'm not even sure is needed). My least favourite part of all of the HP films is the tacked on, feel-good ending.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-12 04:46 am (UTC)I did enjoy the film--it's pretty to look at, and the setting in rural China is astounding to see in all of its "glory", but the screen play embellishes some elements and adds others completely out of the blue. But I think the book was far more satisfying, right down to the last paragraph. I won't reveal anything here, of course. Can't wait to hear your comments on it.
I also meant to mention in the original entry that I loved Maugham's writing style: always interesting, always accessible, but just descriptive enough that I had a picture of the characters and places. I cannot believe I hadn't read him before.