Wow, amazingly enough I have apparently never written about this book before. Fun fact before I start: this was apparently the best selling book the year I was born.
Well, this book is a testimony of sorts. Dolores Claiborne is a woman who lived her whole life on the fictional Maine island of Little Tall. (Hey, while I'm thinking of it, how come the map in the beginning shows all of Stephen King's made-up Maine towns but 'Salem's Lot?) She's about sixty when she is making this testimony, but this is more or less a tale of her life. She's making the testimony to two cops and a stenographer because Vera Donavan, her longtime employer, died in her care and it seemed pretty clear that Dolores killed her--well, due to circumstantial evidence. So not only does Dolores have to explain that, she also chose to explain everything--including the mysterious circumstances under which her husband Joe died, thirty years prior.
The story is told as she tells the cops and the stenographer, and though she responds and interacts with them, their dialogue is never recorded, nor are their actions or reactions--which I think is pretty clever, borderline genius. Because you can't be swayed by them, but you know that they're reacting exactly the same way as you, and it makes the epilogue so much more satisfying and all the more sweeter. It's a lot different from his other books in a lot of ways--even how it is written is extremely different--so it's hard to say "well, if you liked A-Aardvark by Stephen King, you'd like this..." or what, but it's worth a shot. The movie was actually really good too, which was almost a little disappointing when I watched it because I was in the mood for a campy Stephen King movie.
OH, my first note of all doesn't have that much to do with the story either--it's written with Dolores's, er, dialect in mind. I just always found it interesting because... Well, Mark Twain's books like Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer are written in dialect, thick Southern accents. And that makes it nearly impossible for me to read them. It's like a mental roadblock, simple as that--like in Village of the Damned (I think) when that dude tries to block his mind by imagining a brick wall. Simple as that, only I don't do it on purpose, and it's really frustrating. But my mind just shuts down. But Dolores Claiborne doesn't bother me--granted, I don't know a whole lot of people from Maine specifically, but I do unquestionably know what a New Englander sounds like. So the accent ain't no thang, so to speak. Shout outs to Stephen King for writing about New England, even if it is mostly Maine (Maine is a teensy bit creepy though.)
Anyways. Page three is when Dolores spills the beans that she in fact killed her husband Joe, though everyone on the island has more or less known or been convinced of that for the past thirty years--and she denies killing Vera vehemently, though she doesn't get to what happened until much later. It was more or less circumstantial, though I don't want to quite spoil it.
The reason why I was reading this was to see if I ought to toss it, so to speak--like Chuck Palahniuk's Diary, whenever I think "hey, maybe I should read this book again", I automatically remember the grossest scene in the book that kept me away for so long in the first place. In Diary, it's when the narrator remembers her dead husband piercing his nipple with a button. In this book, it's when Dolores recalls the later years of caring for Vera: Vera went senile towards the end, and got mean--as Vera puts it, one of her ways of being a bitch. She just spread her literal shit EVERYWHERE--she would try to "save up" on her crap and create a real nasty mess for Dolores just because. The worst one described, it's all over her, it's spread on the walls--and she's giggling and laughing like it's so cute. It's a disgusting scene.
This book also has these recurring elements--as Vera slips into dementia she starts seeing things she describes as wires coming out from corners, or dust bunnies coming out from under her bed. This always throws me. It seems pretty clear that they're metaphors for old demons coming back and what have you, and it is somewhat clear (or at least possible) that Vera is describing whatever she's seeing the best she can and that's not necessarily what they are--like reports of supposed UFOs before planes were invented. They're described as cigars in the sky, saucers, etc, because that's the best frame of reference that could be conjured. Plus, Vera is losing her mind at this point in the testimony.
The only thing that really throws the idea of Vera doing her best to describe an unknown thing is that later Dolores has a dream of her own dust bunnies, that they grow together and form first Vera's husband's head and then her dead husband's head (although the timeline in the testimony goes back and forth, that memory is obviously from a time after Joe's death) and it gnashes its teeth and whatnot... I have trouble believing Dolores would have that trouble too, even if it was really harrowing. That whole bit is tough to swallow, especially because it doesn't have a lot of other connections to anything in particular mentioned or hinted at in the book. (Vera was a little anal retentive when she was still all there, and maybe her anal retentiveness and inner demons got merged, but... Ehh. I don't know. I'm just not feeling it.)
The start of the main trouble, Dolores explains, well... No, not so much explains, but it becomes clear later on that it is the major turning point in the book. When she first presents it it only has importance as being the last time dead husband, Joe, ever beat her. He hit her in the kidneys and after dinner she whacks him in the side of the head with their cream pitcher, and then brandishes their hatchet, making it pretty clear what will happen if he raises a hand again. Their daughter Selena wakes up, takes in the scene, but Dolores sends her to bed without turning around. Of course, we find out that Selena saw everything and thought wrongfully--as the man visiting Vera's the morning before the testimony takes place--that Dolores did it--that it was all Dolores's fault. You know.
She also tempts Joe to kill her if he's that mad, but she assures him at Shawshank they're sure to have "one of those orange suits just your size" (King 68).
But months pass, Selena hits puberty and enters high school... and the two seem to get close, and Selena seems to get cold towards Dolores. Dolores isn't stupid, she knows how that night looked and figured it was the cause, but... it's even worse than she thought. See, she thought maybe they were just bonding, whatever. Well, Joe decided he liked that. A little bit more than a father should, if you get my meaning. The second she hears this, "All at once I understood everythin, and Joe St. George's days were numbered from that moment on" (King 95). So clearly a powerful motive behind the murder exists--and I think at that point no-one would question the murder. Like I said, King does not give any direction to indicate how the stenographer and cops listening to the testimony react, and it does him well. Unquestionably they react in the same complex way the reader does (who wouldn't?) and extra direction would just hurt it and make it unrealistic and awkward.
She then describes how life had changed in the house in the past few months--how at first they were close then they grew apart, and Selena began avoiding him--Dolores explains how the second oldest, Joe Junior, began avoiding his father as well--but I'm not sure if it was sexual abuse in his case, at least, Dolores never talks about it. She seems kind of disconnected to her other two--well, or they're not as important to the plot. (But I am curious!) But yeah, it seems that Joe Junior just realized that his father was little and hateful on his own and hated them for that. Almost everything in his life seems to have been done in reaction to his father--Dolores recalls an A+ project Joe Junior did on FDR. Joe Sr hated FDR the most of all the presidents, referred to him as "'Franklin D. Sheenyvelt'" (King 133). ("Sheeny" is a slur for a Jewish person.) And we learn pretty early on that Joe has gone on to a career in politics as a Democrat--just like FDR, just the party his father always hated. Meanwhile, the youngest child, Pete, wanted to be just like his scumbag father (obviously he didn't know about the sexual abuse and whatnot, but he imitated Joe's walks and mannerisms and rude language and other behaviours) is revealed to have been killed in Vietnam. Dolores refers to him as her "lost little lamb" at some point (I'm sorry--it seems that I didn't mark the spot!) so it seems as though after his father's death he just kind of wandered off there and got killed--but would have disappeared anyways. If it hadn't been Nam, it would have been something, anything.
She tells Vera about it in a few days at work, and Vera listens pretty calmly. Keep in mind--Vera's husband had died by this point too, and she was more or less living all year on the island. And Vera listens and goes, "'Husbands die every day, Dolores. Why, one is probably dying right now, while we're sitting here talking. They die and leave their wives their money... I should know, shouldn't I?'... 'After all, look what happened to mine... An accident... is sometimes an unhappy woman's best friend'" (King 146-147). Dolores almost faints dead away and ask what Vera means, Vera says "'Why, whatever you think'" (King 147), and that's more or less that. It's obvious... But not quite. Not quite.
So an accident is orchestrated. I'd rather not share how she did it--though I guess I've spoiled a lot--but Dolores did it. I don't feel bad about this one because she goes out and says it on page three, remember?
"'Sometimes you have to be a high-riding bitch to survive,' she says. 'Sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hold on to'" (King 169). This quote probably looks a little silly out of context, but it has stuck with from the very first time I read this and every time I read this book I'm almost in suspense for it. In terms of the book, it means a lot, and it's almost like it has its own weird power.
Oh, and here's one thing I somehow never realized, any of the others times I've read this book. Dolores's maiden name is Claiborne, the name she took in marriage was "St. George". Hm... in Britain names like that are/were pronounced a little different, like St. John as I think the last name of the fellow in Jane Eyre would be pronounced "Sinjin", for example. But I wonder if over here it would be the same? Well, either way, that's not the reason why I made this note. A short time after Dolores tells Vera what had happened with Selena and Joe, it's announced that there will be a visible eclipse that will cover the island. Vera decides to hold a huge party and in getting the house ready goes a little nutty and fires some help over something stupid--the girl drops a cracked plate or some such thing. Dolores chewed Vera out afterwards, and Vera gave her the job back. Anyways, after Vera leaves to the ferry with her guests, the girl who had been rehired thanks Dolores for what she did and says: "'I know it was you, Missus St. George [that got my job back]. No one else'd dare speak up to the old dragon'" (King 173). Honest to God, never got that before. (Referencing the story of St. George and the dragon, guys!) I have no idea how I missed it...
One thing that bothers me is, there are hints to a little girl in this book, kind of like how in Salem's Lot the opening chapters and ending chapters are about an unnamed man and a boy. Whenever I read that book, I always think that maybe I have some grasp of who the man and the boy might be... Mark, if that was the guy's name, and some sole boy survivor...? But in retrospect it never quite seems to pan out. (Seeing the movie might actually help.) Same with this. Occasionally Dolores has visions of a girl around ten years old. The first time she sees her is a few hours before the eclipse, in her vision the girl is sitting on her dad's lap with an eclipse viewer, and she says that maybe the dad's hand was too far up the leg. Right before Dolores goes through and kills Joe, she sees the little girl again, searching under her bed for something. In this vision the girl looks up at Dolores, sees her seeing her, and asks who Dolores is. Many years later she thinks of the girl again, and never explains it or even looks back on it: "'That girl's in trouble... the one I saw on the day of the eclipse, the one who saw me. She's all grown up now, almost Selena's age, but she's in terrible trouble'" (King 255). Well--I said I didn't understand then, but a quick look at Wikipedia reveals the girl to be the young version of the main character in King's book Gerald's Game. Supposedly that last vision refers to a specific event or some such thing in that book. Not sure why Dolores and the girl are connected, actually, but the premise of that book looks kind of interesting, anyways....
Anyways, Dolores moves on, talks about her relationship with Selena "now"--because, she says, at the end of the day, all that she did (in terms of killing Joe) was for her. Selena in this time doesn't eat enough, drinks like crazy (like Joe did) and never comes around. Unmarried, of course. Though they write and talk on the phone, they're basically estranged. I would love to see this story and how the aftermath looks from her point of view. Who knows? Stephen King has been working on a sequel to The Shining for a while, maybe this will be next...
There's a crazy revelation right at the end of the book, but I don't want to spoil it. But it has to do with Vera, and it is HUGE.
The book ends strongly, and the epilogue is immensely satisfying. It implies that there's still a tad bit more, and like I said, it would probably require a sequel of sorts from Selena's POV, but I want to see it so badly (even if it isn't necessary at all to the main point of the story). So, yeah. This is pretty different from Stephen King's other books, but it's the most real--and not just because the only supernatural occurrences are Dolores's visions of the girl in Gerald's Game. King creates a convincing--um, character study probably isn't the right word, but he certainly creates a realistic character that hits home hard. And the way he presents his story is very clever and very satisfying. High five, Stephen King!
Works Cited: King, Stephen. Dolores Claiborne. Viking: United States of America, 1993.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C Clarke
If the title of this book doesn't sound familiar, you have been living under a rock for about fifty some-odd years. This is not the novelization of the classic Stanley Kubrick film, nor is the movie based on this book. They were written in tangent, and although the book was started first, they were caught up to each other by the "Star Gate" sequence (the part with all the flashy colours). And the book was revised based on Kubrick's suggestions, and... Maybe vice versa? I'm not so sure. Some things are different, like in the book Saturn is the goal, the goal planet is different in the movie (I believe, to be fair it has been a while since I watched it), but the story is basically the same.
Oh yeah, the story--for those of you living under a rock, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a sci-fi picture by Stanley Kubrick. It's about the evolution of mankind on the widest scale imaginable, and also there is a psychotic computer named HAL on the ship that decides the crew is extra or noneffective and kills the majority of them (though in the book it implies that he is going insane due to different causes*). Also there's more stuff, but it's sort of complicated and there's a reason why it's a two and half+ hour long movie (though it feels a lot longer). This is the sort of movie you know, even if you don't know. You've heard "I can't let you do that, Dave" or you've seen HAL's ominous and unfeeling red "eye" peering at you somewhere before--heck, just look at the evil AI system from Wall-E. They're so similar it's kind of annoying. Oh well...
So it starts out with some intros written by Arthur C Clarke, a dude you may only recognize from his relationship with this movie, but he was knighted for his services to literature by Queen Elizabeth II and invented the communication satellite. So he trumps me in every respect possible.
Most of it is a comparison of how things in the book came true as technology progressed, or odd coincidences between the book and real life. My personal favourite anecdote that Clarke shares is that supposedly Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin admitted that they had been tempted to "radio back the discovery of a large black monolith" (Clarke XVI).
Clarke also says that not only did he write this book (obviously) but he also wrote 2010, 2061 and 3001. I knew there was something like a sequel in movie form, existed, but... Well, if I see these I'd probably pick them up, why not? This book was really good. He also mentions that the books are criticized because they "explain[ed] too much" (Clarke XVIII)--what?? Dude, you watch those movies and tell me that the mystery is beautiful and you weren't wondering about any part of it. Yes? Oh that is the case? You're lying to both of us, man. Trust me, the two complement each other really well, and this definitely doesn't go too far. I guess I can't speak for the other three books, though.
Anyways, the actual story: the book starts the same way as the movie, with the ape-men. This is the first point where I thanked every possible turn of fate (and my boyfriend) for getting this book into my hands. Granted, it's been a while since I saw the movie. I mostly the remember monkeys doing monkey things, seeing the monolith, breaking stuff (for example, the importance of the monkey breaking the skull/skeleton is a whole lot clearer to me now) and killing another creature. (Youtube is saying another ape. Hold on while I watch some key scenes here.) Anyways, we get to see a little more from the "main" ape, Moon Watcher, and what his life was like before seeing the Monolith and after. And instead of monkeys just hanging around the slab, it projects an image that hypnotizes the monkeys and probes their minds, described in a way that recalls the Stargate section of the movie (for those of you that have seen it). The thing that probes their minds guides them in doing simple actions like tying knots, squatting, and although it doesn't directly implant ideas into his head, you see how it causes the revelations like using tools. I don't believe you see it in the film, but it even shows Moon Watcher and his ape clan overcoming their greatest threat, the leopard. This is of course meant to symbolize man becoming the new predator or being able to assert himself over nature: I believe in the film this just symbolized with the crushing of the "pig" skull (the animal you see in the cuts look more like tapirs than pigs; I'm not sure about the skulls though). And of course there is the murder of the opposing ape-tribe's leader.
One thing that makes me wonder is the bit about the jump cut--the scene in the movie where the bone is thrown up into the air then goes to the space ship is often hailed as the longest jump cut in film history. Do they mean the jump itself has been timed and has proven to be that long? Or do they mean long as in from 3 million BC to 2001 AD makes it the longest?
Also, like I said, it's been a long time since I've seen the film and my DVD no longer exists (I think my brother claimed it), but I can't help but wonder: I remember that the ape man segment was REALLY long. Or at least, I remember wanting to get to space already. But it was at least 25 minutes, so knowing Stanley Kubrick's thoroughness, I can't help but wonder if it was 33/37 pages, exactly how long Moon-Watcher's portion of the book is (or 34-37 if you count the bridging chapter that tells of mankind's expansion in general).
So we go through that and we're immediately in 2001, though Clarke does update us on the social climate, technological changes, and politics that are important for the reader to know. It's also pretty clear that he's a genius but he keeps all the scientific stuff toned down enough so that nearly anybody would be able to understand it. I must say in his alternate take on the future, it's interesting to note that he notes that "birth control was cheap, reliable, and endorsed by all the main religions" (Clarke 44). High five Arthur C Clarke! (Though that may be the most fantastical aspect of this book, unfortunately.) Although he mentions that in his alternate future an accepted/cheap birth control had come a little bit late and overpopulation was still an issue despite all of that. It's worse in his alternate future, but still...
So I commit my own longest jump in this blog's history (lies), and my next mark is on page 82, when Floyd arrives on the moon to check out the second monolith that was discovered there. It's got about the same measurements as the one that appeared to the ape men, and an interesting fun fact is that the ratios of the film measure up to the film picture, so it can be argued that you're viewing the film through a Monolith on its side. Anyways, this monolith doesn't teach as its earth twin did, it just sends out a pulse letting whoever was waiting for the message know that it has been unearthed by somebody or something.
Oh, also, HAL: stands for Heuristically programmed ALgorithmic computer, it just happens to match up with IBM... Well, on this one... that is one hell of a coincidence, Arthur C Clarke. I mean, I can't quite argue it, but... Man, I don't know. I guess this is just one of those things that Kubrick conspiracy theorists love, and I've read too many of their theories to completely swallow this. It's possible that for Clarke it was just a coincidence, but Kubrick spotted it and jumped on it--as the conspiracy believers will point out, a lot of the computers and screens have the IBM logo on them that you can see in reflections and if you freeze the screen when all of the planets are aligned on the vernal equinox... No, actually, you can see the logo in stills. But again, IBM was probably contracted to actually make the computers and systems used, since Stanley Kubrick wanted all of this to function as if they were actually going to shoot it off to space, hahahaha (that man was insane holy crap).
Oh, and again with HAL, Clarke gives us a brief history on how computer technology/robots have evolved in a nice "you are an English major and you still think blowing on electronic devices fixes them" way. That is, keep it simple, stupid. Even I can follow this and yeah, I blow into the DS slot when I switch games just in case. Still.
So the team is the same. Obviously the visuals are less cool (my imagination is nothing compared to Kubrick's, let's be honest) and HAL is not as threatening because he is not a creepy glowing red eye, and no matter how good the book is, it cannot do what Stanley Kubrick did. I know I'm biased because I saw the movie first, but man, I was feeling safe when I read this because everything wasn't white, on a hamster wheel, only to be punctuated by a glowing red robot eye. The eye couldn't see me, I was safe. (Why didn't Sauron scare me this much? Oh right, because Middle Earth isn't isolated and floating seemingly aimlessly through space.) What I'm trying to say is, Stanley Kubrick sure can set one hell of a mood.
At the end of chapter seventeen, Clarke says "The greatest hope of Discovery's little crew was that nothing would mar this peaceful monotony in the weeks and months ahead" (Clarke 128). This is the only part where I felt like Clarke was being patronizing. Clarke, please. Of course something terrible is going to happen to space. It always does.
Anyways, on page 154, something goes wrong with the satellite to Earth! Surprise, moviegoers. HAL cuts the humans off from communicating with the other humans about the issues, leaving him to pick off the humans uncontested. Actually, HAL isn't as nefarious* in the book, which is kind of disappointing for me, since when you think of the film, HAL's plot line tends to overpower the other bits. Probably because it's the least, well, heady. ...Anywayyys, they actually replace the device once and then HAL tells them it must be replaced again because the replacement isn't working either, and that's when Frank Poole is killed by HAL, and although it happens in space, the means of how he is killed exactly are a little different. It almost seems a little gorier in the book, though to be honest both are a little fuzzy to me now.
Actually, the way it seemed to me in the movie is that HAL didn't necessarily destroy the radio controls on purpose--and actually, let me place the asterisk the last two should have directed you to here (*)--hope you're all using ctrl+f! To me, when I saw it, it seemed like that was what had begun HAL's unraveling--the fact that a part of the ship which he basically was should be broken perhaps made him feel inferior and insufficient. To destroy Poole perhaps could have somehow hid that, and in destroying the rest of the crew he could say, "I am better, I don't need you"--something which may as well be true, and would more or less fit in with the idea that he has gained human intelligence, or is on his way, and has acquired some kind of psyche (it might also be noted that HAL was "born" in 1997 ('92 or '91, depending on some drafts)--so in 2001 he would have been around six (or nine or ten)--so depending on the age, he would have been at around the age a human is when they start becoming more self-aware, deepening their ability to think critically and problem solve or at least weigh problems and solutions more effectively, etc. (So I'm a little more attached to HAL being ten, but six is probably just if not more appropriate.)
But HAL in the book's downfall seems to be that the true purpose was to find the next monolith floating out in space. He was not allowed to tell the crew that this was the true purpose of the mission, and in struggling with the issue of ethics in telling the truth--which would go against his orders--or not, which would be willingly deceiving his crew but remaining true to his orders--well, those incongruities are what drove him mad. There are a few paragraphs sort of from HAL's view that support this. So saying the satellite wasn't working was his way of removing himself from his "conscience" or the programming which forced him to lie, or destroy what he had to lie to. Personally, I like the cold villain HAL is in what I perceived in the film (maybe that will change when I watch the movie though...)
Oh, and in the book there's not the creepy lip-reading scene, which is kind of disappointing. Again, he's not as nefarious in the book. They just talk about it in front of him, that he could be wrong, albeit very kindly, with a lot of tact.
Oh, and when the replacement unit "breaks", HAL keeps on pausing for long amounts of time--you know, thinking up something. And when pressed he gets uppity, he tells Dave that there must be something wrong with "'your test procedures'" (Clarke 173). I'm kind of feeling that more for the movie HAL, though. Rough life.
And of course when they finally get a visual/radio transmission from Earth, HAL's alarms go off and cut the transmission (he was announcing that the replacement device broke). Of course.
Oh! But when HAL starts going out of power he still sings "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do..."! The singing isn't as eerie, but somehow his breakdown as a whole is creepier in the book: "'Dave,' said Hal, 'I don't understand why you're doing this to me.... I have the greatest enthusiasm for the mission.... You are destroying my mind.... Don't you understand?.... I will become childish.... I will become nothing.... ...I am a HAL Nine Thousand computer Production Number 3. I became operational at the Hal plant in Urbana, Illinois, on January 12, 1997. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The rain in Spain is mainly on the plain. Dave--are you still there? Did you know that the square root of 10 is 3 point 162277660168379? Log 10 to the base e is zero point 434294481903252... correction, that is log e to the base 10... ...two times two is... two times two is... approximately 4 point 101010101010101010.... I seem to be having difficulty--my first instructor was Dr. Chandra. He taught me to sing a song, it goes like this, 'Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you.' The voice stopped so suddenly that Bowman froze for a moment... Then, unexpectedly, Hal spoke again... 'Good... morning... Doctor... Chandra... This... is... Hal.... I... am... ready.. for... my... first... lesson... today....' Bowman could bear no more... and Hal was silent forever" (Clarke 202-203).
After HAL "dies", Dave continues on, as the sole survivor of his ship. And he does find the next monolith--or, the Star Gate, orbiting Saturn. The narrative pulls out to give a brief overview/summary of the Beings that planted the monoliths, eager to plant the seeds of intelligence (were they Arn?). It reminds me a lot of Isaac Asimov's "The Last Question", actually. The "lords of the galaxy" (Clarke 245) seems to follow a pretty similar "evolutionary" path as the people do in that story once space travel The only difference between the monolith on the moon and the one out of Saturn is that it completely dwarfs the one on the moon--oh, and it actually is a gate--Dave flies right in with the ship, at which point, welcome to the trippy last half hour of 2001: A Space Odyssey the movie. The last thing the station on Earth hears from Dave is: "'The thing's hollow--it goes on forever--and--oh my God!--it's full of stars!'" (Clarke 254).
Like the weirdness of the movie, the star gate section is extremely interesting to read--but it's difficult to describe and even quoting it would 1. be far too long and 2. feel like I'm being a cheat. It's definitely more amazing than the scene in the film, a little more sensical, but just as hella trippy. He also walks into the hotel room like in the movie, and it goes more in depth and it's a little more interesting than the movie. The telephone is fake, the writing is copied but blurred (like writing in a photo), the books look like books, but the pages are blank. The drawers were dummies... and so on. There's food in a fridge--and though the containers are made to look like earthen food containers (a cartoon of milk, cereal boxes, etc), they all contain a blueish nutritious gruel--kind of with the consistency of bread pudding, Clarke describes it as. The most interesting bit is that going through the star gate, Dave theorizes that the beings who set everything in place are long gone and extinct. This implies that those beings are still here and were prepared for him--they seem to want to grow him to be what they are. The star baby fetus thing in the film is the first few steps to it, and it's about where Dave is in his extra-evolution when the book ends.
Anyways, my final note--well, second to last note, I should mention (can't remember if I have already) there are four books in this series. So it ends with a sense of, well, not ending--it goes on apparently. I don't know if the next three books are as good, and I wouldn't be inclined to buy them, but I would go out of my way to find them and read them. Anyways. The last paragraph of the book is: "Then [Dave] waited, marshaling his thoughts and brooding over his still untested powers. For though he was master of the world, he was not quite sure what to do next. But he would think of something" (Clarke 297). But this line stands out because way back in the beginning, Moon-Watcher, the first thinking Man-Ape, ends the section about him specifically in the same sort of way: "For a few moments Moon-Watcher stood uncertainly... Now he was master of the world, and he was not quite sure what to do next. But he would think of something" (Clarke 33).
Sooo yeah, there it is! I don't have much to say, other than it really is an amazing sci-fi book. It could stand alone, but it is a great complement to the movie, even if certain things don't quite match up. It's impressive, and I'm glad I picked it up. (I have to watch the movie again!!!) I don't think the sequels will be able to come close to this, and may in fact, ruin the "mystery", but I'll still be on the lookout for them and let you all know how it goes. See you soon! I'm reading a book on Oscar Wilde right now, but most likely the next book I'll be writing about will be Dolores Claiborne.
Works Cited: Clarke, Arthur C. 2001: A Space Odyssey. New American Library: United States of America, 1999.
Oh yeah, the story--for those of you living under a rock, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a sci-fi picture by Stanley Kubrick. It's about the evolution of mankind on the widest scale imaginable, and also there is a psychotic computer named HAL on the ship that decides the crew is extra or noneffective and kills the majority of them (though in the book it implies that he is going insane due to different causes*). Also there's more stuff, but it's sort of complicated and there's a reason why it's a two and half+ hour long movie (though it feels a lot longer). This is the sort of movie you know, even if you don't know. You've heard "I can't let you do that, Dave" or you've seen HAL's ominous and unfeeling red "eye" peering at you somewhere before--heck, just look at the evil AI system from Wall-E. They're so similar it's kind of annoying. Oh well...
So it starts out with some intros written by Arthur C Clarke, a dude you may only recognize from his relationship with this movie, but he was knighted for his services to literature by Queen Elizabeth II and invented the communication satellite. So he trumps me in every respect possible.
Most of it is a comparison of how things in the book came true as technology progressed, or odd coincidences between the book and real life. My personal favourite anecdote that Clarke shares is that supposedly Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin admitted that they had been tempted to "radio back the discovery of a large black monolith" (Clarke XVI).
Clarke also says that not only did he write this book (obviously) but he also wrote 2010, 2061 and 3001. I knew there was something like a sequel in movie form, existed, but... Well, if I see these I'd probably pick them up, why not? This book was really good. He also mentions that the books are criticized because they "explain[ed] too much" (Clarke XVIII)--what?? Dude, you watch those movies and tell me that the mystery is beautiful and you weren't wondering about any part of it. Yes? Oh that is the case? You're lying to both of us, man. Trust me, the two complement each other really well, and this definitely doesn't go too far. I guess I can't speak for the other three books, though.
Anyways, the actual story: the book starts the same way as the movie, with the ape-men. This is the first point where I thanked every possible turn of fate (and my boyfriend) for getting this book into my hands. Granted, it's been a while since I saw the movie. I mostly the remember monkeys doing monkey things, seeing the monolith, breaking stuff (for example, the importance of the monkey breaking the skull/skeleton is a whole lot clearer to me now) and killing another creature. (Youtube is saying another ape. Hold on while I watch some key scenes here.) Anyways, we get to see a little more from the "main" ape, Moon Watcher, and what his life was like before seeing the Monolith and after. And instead of monkeys just hanging around the slab, it projects an image that hypnotizes the monkeys and probes their minds, described in a way that recalls the Stargate section of the movie (for those of you that have seen it). The thing that probes their minds guides them in doing simple actions like tying knots, squatting, and although it doesn't directly implant ideas into his head, you see how it causes the revelations like using tools. I don't believe you see it in the film, but it even shows Moon Watcher and his ape clan overcoming their greatest threat, the leopard. This is of course meant to symbolize man becoming the new predator or being able to assert himself over nature: I believe in the film this just symbolized with the crushing of the "pig" skull (the animal you see in the cuts look more like tapirs than pigs; I'm not sure about the skulls though). And of course there is the murder of the opposing ape-tribe's leader.
One thing that makes me wonder is the bit about the jump cut--the scene in the movie where the bone is thrown up into the air then goes to the space ship is often hailed as the longest jump cut in film history. Do they mean the jump itself has been timed and has proven to be that long? Or do they mean long as in from 3 million BC to 2001 AD makes it the longest?
Also, like I said, it's been a long time since I've seen the film and my DVD no longer exists (I think my brother claimed it), but I can't help but wonder: I remember that the ape man segment was REALLY long. Or at least, I remember wanting to get to space already. But it was at least 25 minutes, so knowing Stanley Kubrick's thoroughness, I can't help but wonder if it was 33/37 pages, exactly how long Moon-Watcher's portion of the book is (or 34-37 if you count the bridging chapter that tells of mankind's expansion in general).
So we go through that and we're immediately in 2001, though Clarke does update us on the social climate, technological changes, and politics that are important for the reader to know. It's also pretty clear that he's a genius but he keeps all the scientific stuff toned down enough so that nearly anybody would be able to understand it. I must say in his alternate take on the future, it's interesting to note that he notes that "birth control was cheap, reliable, and endorsed by all the main religions" (Clarke 44). High five Arthur C Clarke! (Though that may be the most fantastical aspect of this book, unfortunately.) Although he mentions that in his alternate future an accepted/cheap birth control had come a little bit late and overpopulation was still an issue despite all of that. It's worse in his alternate future, but still...
So I commit my own longest jump in this blog's history (lies), and my next mark is on page 82, when Floyd arrives on the moon to check out the second monolith that was discovered there. It's got about the same measurements as the one that appeared to the ape men, and an interesting fun fact is that the ratios of the film measure up to the film picture, so it can be argued that you're viewing the film through a Monolith on its side. Anyways, this monolith doesn't teach as its earth twin did, it just sends out a pulse letting whoever was waiting for the message know that it has been unearthed by somebody or something.
Oh, also, HAL: stands for Heuristically programmed ALgorithmic computer, it just happens to match up with IBM... Well, on this one... that is one hell of a coincidence, Arthur C Clarke. I mean, I can't quite argue it, but... Man, I don't know. I guess this is just one of those things that Kubrick conspiracy theorists love, and I've read too many of their theories to completely swallow this. It's possible that for Clarke it was just a coincidence, but Kubrick spotted it and jumped on it--as the conspiracy believers will point out, a lot of the computers and screens have the IBM logo on them that you can see in reflections and if you freeze the screen when all of the planets are aligned on the vernal equinox... No, actually, you can see the logo in stills. But again, IBM was probably contracted to actually make the computers and systems used, since Stanley Kubrick wanted all of this to function as if they were actually going to shoot it off to space, hahahaha (that man was insane holy crap).
Oh, and again with HAL, Clarke gives us a brief history on how computer technology/robots have evolved in a nice "you are an English major and you still think blowing on electronic devices fixes them" way. That is, keep it simple, stupid. Even I can follow this and yeah, I blow into the DS slot when I switch games just in case. Still.
So the team is the same. Obviously the visuals are less cool (my imagination is nothing compared to Kubrick's, let's be honest) and HAL is not as threatening because he is not a creepy glowing red eye, and no matter how good the book is, it cannot do what Stanley Kubrick did. I know I'm biased because I saw the movie first, but man, I was feeling safe when I read this because everything wasn't white, on a hamster wheel, only to be punctuated by a glowing red robot eye. The eye couldn't see me, I was safe. (Why didn't Sauron scare me this much? Oh right, because Middle Earth isn't isolated and floating seemingly aimlessly through space.) What I'm trying to say is, Stanley Kubrick sure can set one hell of a mood.
At the end of chapter seventeen, Clarke says "The greatest hope of Discovery's little crew was that nothing would mar this peaceful monotony in the weeks and months ahead" (Clarke 128). This is the only part where I felt like Clarke was being patronizing. Clarke, please. Of course something terrible is going to happen to space. It always does.
Anyways, on page 154, something goes wrong with the satellite to Earth! Surprise, moviegoers. HAL cuts the humans off from communicating with the other humans about the issues, leaving him to pick off the humans uncontested. Actually, HAL isn't as nefarious* in the book, which is kind of disappointing for me, since when you think of the film, HAL's plot line tends to overpower the other bits. Probably because it's the least, well, heady. ...Anywayyys, they actually replace the device once and then HAL tells them it must be replaced again because the replacement isn't working either, and that's when Frank Poole is killed by HAL, and although it happens in space, the means of how he is killed exactly are a little different. It almost seems a little gorier in the book, though to be honest both are a little fuzzy to me now.
Actually, the way it seemed to me in the movie is that HAL didn't necessarily destroy the radio controls on purpose--and actually, let me place the asterisk the last two should have directed you to here (*)--hope you're all using ctrl+f! To me, when I saw it, it seemed like that was what had begun HAL's unraveling--the fact that a part of the ship which he basically was should be broken perhaps made him feel inferior and insufficient. To destroy Poole perhaps could have somehow hid that, and in destroying the rest of the crew he could say, "I am better, I don't need you"--something which may as well be true, and would more or less fit in with the idea that he has gained human intelligence, or is on his way, and has acquired some kind of psyche (it might also be noted that HAL was "born" in 1997 ('92 or '91, depending on some drafts)--so in 2001 he would have been around six (or nine or ten)--so depending on the age, he would have been at around the age a human is when they start becoming more self-aware, deepening their ability to think critically and problem solve or at least weigh problems and solutions more effectively, etc. (So I'm a little more attached to HAL being ten, but six is probably just if not more appropriate.)
But HAL in the book's downfall seems to be that the true purpose was to find the next monolith floating out in space. He was not allowed to tell the crew that this was the true purpose of the mission, and in struggling with the issue of ethics in telling the truth--which would go against his orders--or not, which would be willingly deceiving his crew but remaining true to his orders--well, those incongruities are what drove him mad. There are a few paragraphs sort of from HAL's view that support this. So saying the satellite wasn't working was his way of removing himself from his "conscience" or the programming which forced him to lie, or destroy what he had to lie to. Personally, I like the cold villain HAL is in what I perceived in the film (maybe that will change when I watch the movie though...)
Oh, and in the book there's not the creepy lip-reading scene, which is kind of disappointing. Again, he's not as nefarious in the book. They just talk about it in front of him, that he could be wrong, albeit very kindly, with a lot of tact.
Oh, and when the replacement unit "breaks", HAL keeps on pausing for long amounts of time--you know, thinking up something. And when pressed he gets uppity, he tells Dave that there must be something wrong with "'your test procedures'" (Clarke 173). I'm kind of feeling that more for the movie HAL, though. Rough life.
And of course when they finally get a visual/radio transmission from Earth, HAL's alarms go off and cut the transmission (he was announcing that the replacement device broke). Of course.
Oh! But when HAL starts going out of power he still sings "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do..."! The singing isn't as eerie, but somehow his breakdown as a whole is creepier in the book: "'Dave,' said Hal, 'I don't understand why you're doing this to me.... I have the greatest enthusiasm for the mission.... You are destroying my mind.... Don't you understand?.... I will become childish.... I will become nothing.... ...I am a HAL Nine Thousand computer Production Number 3. I became operational at the Hal plant in Urbana, Illinois, on January 12, 1997. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The rain in Spain is mainly on the plain. Dave--are you still there? Did you know that the square root of 10 is 3 point 162277660168379? Log 10 to the base e is zero point 434294481903252... correction, that is log e to the base 10... ...two times two is... two times two is... approximately 4 point 101010101010101010.... I seem to be having difficulty--my first instructor was Dr. Chandra. He taught me to sing a song, it goes like this, 'Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do. I'm half crazy all for the love of you.' The voice stopped so suddenly that Bowman froze for a moment... Then, unexpectedly, Hal spoke again... 'Good... morning... Doctor... Chandra... This... is... Hal.... I... am... ready.. for... my... first... lesson... today....' Bowman could bear no more... and Hal was silent forever" (Clarke 202-203).
After HAL "dies", Dave continues on, as the sole survivor of his ship. And he does find the next monolith--or, the Star Gate, orbiting Saturn. The narrative pulls out to give a brief overview/summary of the Beings that planted the monoliths, eager to plant the seeds of intelligence (were they Arn?). It reminds me a lot of Isaac Asimov's "The Last Question", actually. The "lords of the galaxy" (Clarke 245) seems to follow a pretty similar "evolutionary" path as the people do in that story once space travel The only difference between the monolith on the moon and the one out of Saturn is that it completely dwarfs the one on the moon--oh, and it actually is a gate--Dave flies right in with the ship, at which point, welcome to the trippy last half hour of 2001: A Space Odyssey the movie. The last thing the station on Earth hears from Dave is: "'The thing's hollow--it goes on forever--and--oh my God!--it's full of stars!'" (Clarke 254).
Like the weirdness of the movie, the star gate section is extremely interesting to read--but it's difficult to describe and even quoting it would 1. be far too long and 2. feel like I'm being a cheat. It's definitely more amazing than the scene in the film, a little more sensical, but just as hella trippy. He also walks into the hotel room like in the movie, and it goes more in depth and it's a little more interesting than the movie. The telephone is fake, the writing is copied but blurred (like writing in a photo), the books look like books, but the pages are blank. The drawers were dummies... and so on. There's food in a fridge--and though the containers are made to look like earthen food containers (a cartoon of milk, cereal boxes, etc), they all contain a blueish nutritious gruel--kind of with the consistency of bread pudding, Clarke describes it as. The most interesting bit is that going through the star gate, Dave theorizes that the beings who set everything in place are long gone and extinct. This implies that those beings are still here and were prepared for him--they seem to want to grow him to be what they are. The star baby fetus thing in the film is the first few steps to it, and it's about where Dave is in his extra-evolution when the book ends.
Anyways, my final note--well, second to last note, I should mention (can't remember if I have already) there are four books in this series. So it ends with a sense of, well, not ending--it goes on apparently. I don't know if the next three books are as good, and I wouldn't be inclined to buy them, but I would go out of my way to find them and read them. Anyways. The last paragraph of the book is: "Then [Dave] waited, marshaling his thoughts and brooding over his still untested powers. For though he was master of the world, he was not quite sure what to do next. But he would think of something" (Clarke 297). But this line stands out because way back in the beginning, Moon-Watcher, the first thinking Man-Ape, ends the section about him specifically in the same sort of way: "For a few moments Moon-Watcher stood uncertainly... Now he was master of the world, and he was not quite sure what to do next. But he would think of something" (Clarke 33).
Sooo yeah, there it is! I don't have much to say, other than it really is an amazing sci-fi book. It could stand alone, but it is a great complement to the movie, even if certain things don't quite match up. It's impressive, and I'm glad I picked it up. (I have to watch the movie again!!!) I don't think the sequels will be able to come close to this, and may in fact, ruin the "mystery", but I'll still be on the lookout for them and let you all know how it goes. See you soon! I'm reading a book on Oscar Wilde right now, but most likely the next book I'll be writing about will be Dolores Claiborne.
Works Cited: Clarke, Arthur C. 2001: A Space Odyssey. New American Library: United States of America, 1999.
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