Sunday, November 21, 2010

Dorian Gray

So, world, yesterday I watched Dorian Gray, the new one starring Ben "Wow I can get sexual too" Barnes and Colin "Should have been Harry Potter" Firth.

It was pretty good. Ben Barnes gets naked--a lot more naked than I was expecting*--and Colin Firth smokes opium. In fact, add "smoking opium with Colin Firth" to my bucket list, okay? Yeah, that's right, Colin Firth plays Wotton. Can you believe that? Colin would be all "Let's have an orgy" and I'd be like, "Colin, are you high right now? OH WAIT". That was kind of weird, but I guess that explains why Colin is a little timid and in denial of his past in his later years when his daughter Amanda Bynes comes back into his life. Even the discrepancies I didn't really mind until the end, but I'll get to that later. There are even some super-awesome additions that made me happier than the book did... For example, there's this line that's been omitted between the original text and when it was actually printed in book form about Dorian's fondness of jam, which is a reference to his sexual preferences. In the movie, there's a scene that juxtaposes him at a high class tea and a wild orgy/opium party. At the very end of the scene, it shows him putting jam on a cracker or bagel or something. Uh-huuuuh. (It also reminded me how much I miss that meal and I had it for breakfast today. The actual meal, not the metaphor, though if you're offering...)
There's also a scene where Dorian begins to make out with Basil Hallward, which I liked because Basil is so in love with Dorian in the book it's ridiculous. And since it's Oscar Wilde, saying Basil's love of Dorian transcends admiration isn't so far of a stretch... But yeah. Catharsis? (Oh Chirico would be so proud of me.)
Also, while I'm thinking of it, this is another movie that makes being a turn-of-the-century prostitute look really, really fun. (The other movie is Moulin Rouge.) I'm just saying, if I had a time machine, I'd try it out. (I'd be sure to take penicillin with me, however.)

Like I said, the end was the only thing that didn't bode well with me. Other changes I was willing to overlook and could even understand why they had taken place (it's not like I was watching Prince Caspian or The Two Towers or anything!) but the ending bothered me. Wotton has a daughter in the movie named Emily. She is convenient, I admit, because in the book 18+ years pass, but it doesn't really ever click, regardless of the scene with James. In the movie however, when Dorian leaves, Mrs Wotton is pregnant--and then Dorian comes back and Colin's just like oh yeah, that's my kid. (Plus, there are automobiles and posters encouraging men to join the war effort, though of course we can't expect those sort of things to have appeared in Wilde's book.) But he falls in love with her, and all, and I'm kind of like, I know he sort of tries to redeem himself at the end of the book but this, I'm not feeling. And the way they treated the 'murder' scene that concludes the book was very unfavourable. It's far too over dramatic in my opinion, in the book it was a simple, dramatic, Shankspearian stab, in the movie his rotting self tries to escape the picture and he stabs it a few times and I'm just like guys. In this case, the understatement would have been better, I think. Maybe a shot of him lifting the dagger, light gleaming off of it, then him bringing it down and cutting to a spew of blood hitting the ground. Of course, the ending of the book would be difficult to put into film without seeming like an over dramatic 30's or 40's (isn't there a forties version of this?) movie, so I'm willing to let that slide, but... One thing I did like that, in the movie, the room is being consumed by fire--but in the end, we see what is left of the room, and the portrait is unharmed.

One interesting bit is that James attempts to strangle Dorian and very nearly succeeds. It made me curious as to what would have happened: Most likely the picture would have gone back to normal, I guess... Or maybe Dorian wouldn't have died!? Actually, now that I really think of it, it probably just would have been the former... I tried.

So yeah... I guess I don't really have much insightful to say, though I did enjoy the movie. It also inspired me to paint a portrait (of course). Unfortunately, I'm bereft of paint, my sketch pad, my inks, my fancy pencils--I'd even be willing to settle for oil pastels. So I just pencil and papered that, and here we are... (Now that I look at that there are a few eras which I have sense fixed, but I don't feel like sketching it again. Also, sorry about the obnoxious tag, but I'm always on the guard for folks like Ms Basetti.)

I did another one, but this certainly turned out better. I kind of like it smaller, too... (Please be kind about this, it's been a while since I've drawn a portrait--about five months, strangely enough, the last one was of Oscar Wilde... Well, that's not completely fair, five months since I've drawn a living person. In the beginning of the year I decided to do a serious portrait of Demos, however. I can't remember if I did Augustus too, though if I did I probably gave up halfway through. Love that boy, but he has such a weird face.) Oh, and the scene it is from is at Basil's funeral. Spoiler alert.

Oh, also, the tagline to the movie is "Forever Young. Forever Cursed". Please tell me you can't take it seriously either; I'd really appreciate it if it wasn't just me.


*The first time he undresses you'd expect maybe he'd start off slow like, oh, there goes my shirt, but he was just like HEY, LOOK AT MY BUTT, IT'S MARVELOUS! And yeah. It was. Also, while we're talking about nudity, my favourite scene is def the one where it's this girl's eighteenth birthday and he's having sex with her, but the mother comes up into the room--so he has her hide under the bed. Then he has a quickie with the mom on top of the bed, and when she leaves he looks under the bed and goes "Now, where were we?" Awesome.



You know, I was thinking about Magnolia while writing this. If you remember (which you probably don't, because you never tweeted about it), I used it as the cryptic song lyrics for Collected Poems of Oscar Wilde. At the time, I had chosen them because it seemed to be a very decent summary of the last few years of Wilde's life before his imprisonment. "The lovers who have tainted you..." et cetera. But as I was thinking, I was kind of like, well, you could just as easily say that about Dorian Gray's life as well, no? Then I started thinking about the parallels. Though Wilde supposedly had a few homosexual (and heterosexual) liaisons before Lord Alfred Douglas, Douglas was the one that ruined him and also got him into male prostitutes (jury's out on the opium dens), and for Dorian that would be Wotton (though that would just be for wild implied liaisons in general and also murder and opium). And then that goes back to quotes, right? Not just "Life imitates Art", but also "Literature always anticipates life. It does not copy it, but moulds it to its purpose". Yes!? And then, on top of that, he has been quoted elsewhere is saying something along the lines of the fact that an author's first novel's main character is either Jesus or Faustus. That is, they take the high, good route, or the take the descending route. So clearly Dorian descended, and Wilde didn't heed his own warning ("I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never any use to oneself"!) and he became his own Faustus, "We are each our own devil and we make this world our hell".

Well then. You just witnessed a revelation.


Answer to last post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: November Has Come by The Gorillaz
This post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: Time--he's waiting in the wings, he speaks of senseless things, his script is you and me, boys.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Oscar Wilde's Wit and Wisdom: A Book of Quotations

Well, hello there! This is a special birthday edition, whoop whoooop. My friend Ben, being awesome, gave me a book of--well, perhaps you should read the title, there. He also gave me (whilst continually being awesome) the newest rendition of Dorian Gray, the one starring the most beautiful human being on the face of this plane--ehh, Benjamin Barnes. Go on, Google him right now. Do yourself a favor! When I opened them I was all "How did you know!?" Which in retrospect is a stupid question. Guys, if there's one thing I am all about, it's Oscar Wilde, almost bordering on obsession... Just kidding, I think I've passed that boundary already. If I ever met him, I'd be to him what that creepy fat guy in Space Jam was to Michael Jordan... Well, a little less so. I don't think anyone can really be that creepy. Please don't kill me with dilophosaurs.

Anyway, there's not going to be a lot of insight because these are just some awesome things Oscar Wilde said. But I figured you deserved to bask in his awesomeness too because, uh, it's Oscar Wilde. Also, I can't remember if you (Emma) have actually ever read anything by him. I feel like you must of, or at least absorbed things through osmosis, but whatever. Let's go, shall we?

"Life is much too important a thing to ever talk seriously about it (1)." This was a given, though I have to admit I like the misquoted version better, this is very awkwardly worded. OSCAR. Gosh.
"The Book of Life begins with a man and woman in a garden. It ends with Revelations" (1). I feel like there's a sex joke in here. I mean... He would. He really would...
"One's real life is so often the life that one does not lead" (1).
"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all" (1). Although this (upcoming) quote of Wilde's is nowhere in this book, I feel like these two go hand-in-hand: "Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."
"To become a spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life" (1).

"Life is never fair... And perhaps it is a good thing for most of us that it is not" (2). Okay, so Emma. Why haven't you read Catch-22 yet? There's this great scene where the men are talking about their pasts, and their fathers and stuff... Like, one guy is talking about how he's rich and good things are just thrown at him for no apparent reason, which leads him to conclude that the riches must actually be someone else's, and another fellow pipes up and says, you know, perhaps it was my father's. He worked hard his whole life and only suffered from misfortune. And there are few other examples of oh, this is mine--but maybe it was meant to be for you, and vice versa. And then one guy says: "Just for once I'd like to see all these things sort of straightened out, with each person getting exactly what he deserves. It might give me some confidence in the universe." (Via Wikiquote.) So... Yeah. Also, fun fact about that quote: I wrote that on a dollar and Alyssa got it and refused to spend it, to the best of my knowledge, to this day. She kept it affixed to the front of her daily planner for the remainder of the school year. It was kind of touching. ....I miss Alyssa...

"One can live for years sometimes without living at all, and then all life comes crowding into one single hour" (2).
"I love acting. It is so much more real than life" (2).

"One should absorb the colour of life, but one should never remember its details. Details are always vulgar" (3).
"The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast" (3).

"I wrote when I did not know life; now that I do know the meaning of life, I have no more to write. Life cannot be written; life can only be lived" (4). PS. Oscar, I love you.

"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell' (5).
"In Paris one can lose one's time most delightfully; but one can never lose one's way" (5). I can attest to this one. Actually, this probably applies best (in my experience) to strolling in Cimitiere du Pere Lachaise... Which is sort of funny (for lack of a better word) because *someone* is buried there... No, but actually, it's a very nice place in its own right; the surrounding area is pretty lovely too.
"But the past is of no importance. The present is of no importance. It is with the future that we have to deal. For the past is what man should not have been. The present is what man ought not to be. The future is what artists are" (5).
"Women are meant to be loved, not understood" (5).

"She'll never love you unless you are always at her heels; women like to be bothered" (6).

"The one charm of the past is that it is past. But women never know when the curtain has fallen" (8).

"There is one thing infinitely more pathetic than to have lost the woman one is in love with, and that is to have won her and found out how shallow she is" (9). I want to know when Oscar said this one, for obvious reasons.

"As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter, she is perfectly satisfied"(11). Noooot a big fan of Mrs Vane.
"There is only one real tragedy in a woman's life. The fact that the past is always her lover, and her future invariably her husband" (11).

"I sometimes think that God in creating man, somewhat overestimated His ability" (12). I do not like the existence of that comma at all.
"What a man really has, is what is in him. What is outside of him should be a matter of no importance" (12).

"Man, poor, awkward, reliable, necessary man belongs to a sex that has been rational for millions and millions of years. He can't help himself. It is in his race. The History of Woman is very different. We have always been picturesque protests against the mere existence of common sense. We saw its dangers from the first" (13).
"When a man is old enough to do wrong he should be old enough to do right also" (13).

"Man can believe the impossible, but man can never believe the improbable" (14).
"People who count their chickens before they are hatched, act very wisely, because chickens run about so absurdly that is is impossible to count them accurately" (14). Goddammit Oscar, those commas.
"One can always be kind to people about whom one cares nothing" (14).
"It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious" (14).
"I like men who have a future and women who have a past" (14).

"Most men and women are forced to perform parts for which they have no qualifications" (15).
"Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing" (15).
"I like persons better than principles and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world" (15).

"It is perfectly monstrous the way people go about, nowadays, saying things against one behind one's back that are absolutely and entirely true" (16).
"People who want to say merely what is sensible should say it to themselves before they come down to breakfast in the morning, never after" (16). I find this funny in comparison to Lewis Carrol and his practice of believing in "six impossible things before breakfast".
"Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes" (16).
"The worst of having a romance of any kind is that it leaves one so unromantic" (16). Good news, Oscar--love you some more.

"What a silly thing love is! It is not half as useful as logic, for it does not prove anything and it is always telling one things that are not going to happen, and making one believe things that are not true" (17).
"To love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance" (17).
"...Love and gluttony justify everything" (17).
"Romance is the privilege of the rich, not the profession of the poor" (17).
"Men always want to be a women's first love. That is their clumsy vanity. Women have a more subtle instinct about things: What they like is to be a man's last romance" (17).

"Any place you love is the world to you" (18).
"...But love is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much about it that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent" (18). This and the above quote are actually all smushed together, but I really think that's an odd combination. I can see why they'd do it, aesthetically at least, but I just don't feel it, you know? Also, I wish there was an underline option so you could see my favourite part of the second quote, but Emma, you who apparently actually does absorb Oscar Wilde by osmosis from me, should remember, because I'm certain you commit everything I say to your memory (or at least your twitter account) because I am that awesome.
"One should always be in love. That is the reason one should never marry" (18).
"Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring" (18). I wish blogger allowed html hearts, by the way.

"Always! That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I hear it. Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to make it last for ever. It is a meaningless word too. The only difference between a caprice and a life-long passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer" (19). I just want to point out that this is from Dorian Gray, which means Wilde had been married for at least five years when he wrote it (with the estimation that it was written a year before Lippincott's actually published it). Juuuuust saying. (Bosie makes them good boys go bad!)
"Men marry because they are tired; women because they are curious; both are disappointed" (19). Again, I feel like this was a Mrs Vane line.

"Once a week is quite enough to propose to anyone, and it should always be done in a manner that attracts some attention" (20).
"I am not in favour of long engagements. They give people the opportunity of finding out each other's character before marriage, which I think is never advisable" (20).
"...In married life three is company and two is none" (20).

"The proper basis for marriage is mutual misunderstanding" (21).

"When a woman finds out about her husband she either becomes dreadfully dowdy, or wears very smart bonnets that some other woman's husband has to pay for" (22).
"There's nothing in the world like the devotion of a married woman. It's a thing no married man knows anything about" (22).

"After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations" (23).
"Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one" (23). Really, Dorian? Because I hear you're more into brutally murdering friends. I don't know, just heard that somewhere. Whatever.
"Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship" (23).
"Anybody can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathize with a friend's success" (23).

"Relations are simply a tedious pack of people who haven't got the remotest knowledge of how to live, nor the smallest instinct about when to die" (24).
"To lose one parent... may be regarded as misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness" (24).
"I fare say that if I knew him I should not be his friend at all. It is a very dangerous thing to know one's friends" (24). Ayuuuup.

"I shall never make a new friend in my life, though perhaps a few after I die" (25).
"To get back to one's youth, one has merely to repeat one's follies" (25).

"Youth is the one thing worth having" (26).

"To be natural is such a very difficult pose to keep up" (27).
"...Duty is what one expects from others, it is not what one does oneself" (27). Guess what? Love this guy.
"He would stab his best friend for the sake of writing an epigram on his tombstone" (27). There's a quote I have in one of my many other quote books that is something akin to: "She would toss her friends in a river just for the pleasure of fishing them out". Also, guess what I'm going to say again.

"The first duty of life is to be as artificial as possible. What the second duty is no one has yet discovered" (28).
"One should always be a little improbable" (28).

"Everyone should keep someone else's diary" (29).
"Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest of motives" (29).
"A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal" (29).
"There is a fatality about good resolutions--they are always made too late" (29).
"One should always play fairly--when one has the winning cards" (29).
"I rely on you to misrepresent me" (29).

"A good reputation is one of the many annoyances to which I have never been subjected" (30). I really, really, really like this one. You know how in my Junky post I complained about the praise of the bedside manner quote? This is a quote like this, except it didn't automatically click like that one did. At first I was kind of like wait, what? But then I started thinking about it, and I mean, if you're high class and you... I don't know, get caught having an affair or peddling drugs or hooking up with male prostitutes, people are going to be shocked. If you're seen as a vagabond or bum, people are just going to be like "Oh, there's that vagabum again, sleeping around and doing heroin", and... Now we've made it back to William S Burroughs...?

"It is not good for one's morals to see bad acting" (31).
"Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes" (31).

"Starvation, and not sin, is the parent of modern crime" (32).
"I can resist everything except temptation" (32).
"Sin is a thing that writes itself across a man's face. It cannot be concealed" (32).
"...There are terrible temptations that it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to" (32).

"The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it" (33).
"The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future" (33).
"There is no sin except stupidity" (33).
"If one tells the truth, one is sure, sooner or later, to be found out" (33).

"It is the confession, not the priest that gives us absolution" (34).
"It is a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly that all his life he has been speaking nothing but the truth" (34).
"Geniuses... are always talking about themselves, when I want them to be thinking about me" (34).
"The public is wonderfully tolerant. It forgives everything except genius" (34).
"I like looking at geniuses, and listening to beautiful people" (34).

"I know so many men in London whose only talent is washing. I suppose that is why men of genius so seldom wash; they are afraid of being mistaken for men of talent only!" (35).
"The worst thing you can do for a person of genius is to help him: that way lies his destruction. I have had many devoted helpers--and you see the result" (34). I'm curious about the date of when he said this.
"I think it is better to be beautiful than to be good. But on the other hand no one is more ready than I am to acknowledge that it is better to be good than to be ugly" (34).
"Good looks are a snare that every sensible man would like to be caught in" (34).

"If you think of anything, you kill it. Nothing survives being thought of" (36).
"The value of an idea has nothing whatsoever to do with the sincerity of the man who expresses it" (36).
"Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative" (36).

"All art is quite useless" (37).

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's aim" (38).
"No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did he would cease to be an artist" (38).
"It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors" (38).
"A truly great artist cannot conceive of life being shown, or beauty fashioned, under any conditions other than those he has selected" (38).
"The Artist is the creator of beautiful things" (38). This is from the preface of The Picture of Dorian Gray, which I think shines a new, interesting light on the book. An ironic light too, since Dorian is clearly so ugly internally... And that ugly persona was partially ushered in by the artist, though it was created by Wotton, technically... And then of course the painting degenerates and becomes an ugly piece of work--but it was beautiful at one point... So the painting progresses as normal life progresses, and Basil Halward just played God, a lot more successfully than most. Then that works into his maxim, "Life imitates art" which makes sense, considering the story... Bam. (And, if you're wondering about the "new, interesting light" when it is from the preface, it is because in the infinite wisdom of Barnes & Noble publishers, they chose not to include it in that actual book--instead, it is randomly inserted into The Collected Oscar Wilde. It also deletes a fake letter by Basil altogether--it is not necessary to the story, but it is a little agitating. I could go on by the disappointment the Barnes & Noble edition leaves in me in comparison to my 1910 copy, but it's really rather pedantic. The one advantage that version may have, which I'd need to check up on, is if it includes the deleted passages that more likely than not would have remained deleted in the 1910 version.)
"I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train" (38).

"Only mediocrities progress" (39).
"M Zola is determined to show that, if he has not got genius, he can at least be dull" (39). Loooove.
"Only the great masters of style ever succeed in being obscure" (39).

"Whistler is indeed one of the very greatest masters of painting in my opinion. And I may add that in this opinion Mr Whistler himself entirely concurs (40).
"There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written or badly written. That is all" (40). He says the same thing about poetry elsewhere. I want to say it is in 'Phrases and Philosophies for the Use of the Young', though you should not quote me on that.
"There are no real emotions left--only extraordinary adjectives" (40).
"The books that the world calls immoral books are books that show the world its own shame" (40). Good news, you're kind of the best.

"Mr James Payn is an adept in the art of concealing what is not worth finding" (41).
"I have no desire to be a popular novelist. It is far too easy" (41).
"--Can be read without any trouble and was probably written without any trouble also!" (41). This was from a review, though no clue is given to what book what just ripped to shreds.
"...A form of poetry which cannot possibly hurt anybody, even if translated into French" (41). Again, a review, but of what work exactly, who knows?

"If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use in reading it at all" (42).
"The aim of most of our modern novelists seems to be, not to write good novels, but to write novels that will do good" (42). I can't decide if he's being harshly critical or not.
"A poet can survive everything but a misprint" (42).
"Literature always anticipates life. It does not copy it, but moulds it to its purpose. The nineteenth century, as we know it, is largely an invention of Balzac" (42). Though I don't know who Balzac is, that doesn't make me dig this one any less.

"After playing Chopin, I feel as if I had been weeping over sins that I had never committed, and mourning over tragedies that were not my own. Music always seems to me to produce that effect. It creates for one a past of which one has been ignorant and fills one with a sense of sorrows that have been hidden from one's tears" (43). / "How curiously it had all been revealed to me! A book of Sonnets, published nearly three hundred years ago, written by a dead hand and in honour of a dead youth, had suddenly explained to me the whole story of my soul's romance... Strange, that we knew so little about ourselves, and that our most intimate personality was concealed from us!'" ('The Portrait of Mr WH'). One: Again, you can guess my response. And also, if I may quote (for my feelings on it haven't changed in the slightest; try not to hate me for quoting myself) the last time I quoted this passage: "It's just... so lovely. This a fantastic passage, including that what the ellipses have hidden. But it was very touching, something about it touches me, it breaks my heart and makes me love it all the more fervently at the same time."
"It is exactly because a man cannot do a thing that he is the proper judge of it" (43). This is another 'bedside manner' quote. It sounds absurd at first, but it makes sense once you think about a little, no? Someone who has talent in the area is bound to have his own biases and ideas about the subject and how it should carry out. The only way to get a pure judgment is to get someone with a tabula rasa on the subject at hand.

"I never reply to my critics. I have far too much time. But I think some day I will give a general answer in the form of a lecture, which I shall call 'Straight Talks to Old Men'" (44).
"There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about" (44).
"I may have said the same thing before... But my explanation, I am sure, will always be different" (44).
"Murder is always a mistake... One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner" (44). Oh, Oscar, you silly goose, you!
"A man who allows himself to be convinced by an argument is a thoroughly unreasonable person" (44).
"I dislike arguments of any kind. They are always vulgar, and often convincing" (44).

"I like to do all the talking myself. It saves time and prevents arguments" (45).
"Lots of people act well but very few people talk well, which shows that talking is much more the difficult thing of the two, and much the finer thing also" (45).
"I like talking to a brick wall, it's the only thing in the world that never contradicts me" (45). Where's that html heart at?
"I hate when people talk about themselves, as you do, when one wants to talk about oneself, as I do" (45).

"Anybody can make history. Only a great man can write it" (46).
"Oh, I'm so glad you've come. There are a hundred things I want not to say to you" (46). This definitely sounds like it may have lived on as a Groucho Marx quip.
"The well-bred contradict other people. The wise contradict themselves" (46).
"I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never any use to oneself" (46).

"Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught" (47). If I was valedictorian, this is all my speech would be, I can promise you that. And then I would just walk off, while putting on my Ray-Bans, and the sun would glint off them all cool-like... I also kind of regret not making this my year book quote, as I do "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars" (strangely enough, not in here), but Jack Kerouac and Carl Sagan--can you really regret either of them? Answer: No, unless if you're super lame.
"When people agree with me I always feel that I must be wrong" (47).

"People are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves. It is what I call the depths of generosity" (48). "What they need" in this case is advice.
"The mind of a thoroughly well-informed man is a dreadful thing. It is like a bric-a-brac shop, all monsters and dust, with everything priced above its proper value" (48). Fun fact, this quote made it here mainly because I find the "all monsters and dust" bit strangely adorable. Also: Good description of Leopold Bloom (because he's the sort of fellow who is well-rounded, but the people in the bar--damned if I can remember exactly who, but I'll pretend it was the Citizen--are like ugh what an egotistical jerk, he acts like he knows everything, never shuts up, always has to throw some random fact in blah blah blahhh). Anyone who would be "well-informed" too, but I thought of Leopold Bloom first. There is a flower that bloometh (in my mind).
"Young people, nowadays, imagine that money is everything, and when they get older they know it" (48). / "A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of"--Jane Austen

"I don't want money. It is only people who pay their bills who want that, and I never pay mine" (49).
"It is better to have a permanent income than to be fascinating" (49).
"There is only one class in the community that thinks about money more than the rich, and that is the poor. The poor can think of nothing else" (49).
"Sometimes the poor are praised for being thrifty. But to recommend thrift to the poor is both grotesque and insulting. It is like advising a man who is starving to eat less" (49).
"As for begging it is safer to beg than to take, but it is finer to take than to beg" (49).
"I am never in during the afternoon, except when I am confined to the house by a sharp attack of penury" (49). The important note for this is that it was in a letter from 1898--that is, after the scandal and the release.

"Society often forgives the crminal; it never forgives the dreamer" (50).
"Patriotism is the virtue of the vicious" (50). And when used in an argument, it's a logical fallacy!

"Journalism is unreadable, and literature is not read" (51).
"As long as war is regarded as wicked, it will always have its fascination. When it is looked upon as vulgar it will cease to be popular" (51).

"The one duty we owe to history is to rewrite it" (52).
"We have really everything in common with America nowadays, except, of course, language" (52).

"Somehow I don't think I shall live to see the new century--if another century began and I was still alive, it would really be more than the English could stand" (53). I can't help but be curious about the date of when he said this. Of course, it came back to bite him as he did not actually--well, he survived into the new century, but only eleven months--exactly eleven months; he died on the thirtieth.
"It is only shallow people who do not judge by appearances" (53).
"One should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art" (53).

"He has nothing, but looks everything. What more can one desire?" (54).
"I have made an important discovery... that alcohol, taken in sufficient qualities, produces all the effects of intoxication" (54). Hehehehe.

Regarding his brother's fondness for the drink: "Oh, he occasionally takes an alcoholiday" (55).
"There are many things that we would throw away, if we were not afraid that others might pick them up" (55). Amen to that, brother.
"Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live" (55).
"Illness of any kind is hardly a thing to be encouraged in others. Health is the primary duty of life" (55).
"An inordinate passion for pleasure is the secret of remaining young" (55).
"I adore simple pleasures, they are the last refuge of the complex" (55).
"It is better to take pleasure in a rose than to put its root under a microscope" (55).
"Work is the curse of the drinking class" (55).
"It is always with the best intentions that the worst work is done" (55).

"A mask tells us more than a face" (56).
"Man is made for something better than disturbing dirt" (56). Okay. This is definitely probably my most favourite thing that Wilde has said. The context given for it is less than desirable, it completely glosses over the context I gave it (see link) with an elipses. But, that doesn't change the fact that I love this. If I could just hang out with Oscar Wilde and CS Lewis I'd be a pretty happy person.
"I was working on the proof of one of my poems all the morning, and took out a comma. In the afternoon I put it back again" (56). I feel like Fabrizzles alluded to this quote or joked about something similar when we learned about poetry (and subsequently were making fun of poetry) in Creative Writing.
"Cultivated leisure is the aim of man" (56).
"One could never pay too high a price for any sensation" (56). Oh Dorian, you and your opium and sex orgies and jam!

"If there was less sympathy in the world there would be less trouble in the world" (57).
"I am afraid I play no outdoor games at all, except dominoes... I have sometimes played dominoes outside French cafes" (57). High five!
"Moods don't last. It is their chief charm" (57).

"It is only shallow people who require years to get rid of an emotion. A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure" (58). I'm pretty sure it's Dorian that says this (which would make sense, as it sounds like something he'd say after he tells Sybil it's over) and for all his being a terrible person--I kind of dig this one. (I can't deny that Dorian acted like a jerk, though, and should have handled the situation at least 90,000 times better than he did...)
"A woman's life revolves in curves of emotion" (58).
"...A sentimentalist is someone who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it" (58). In one of his other essays (this is from "Conversation")--possibly from 'The Portrait of Mr WH' even--he talks about how reading about love or hearing ballads or what have you make you desire love, or love love, and imagine it suddenly exists, while it picks an object of affection later. (The same with sadness, or any other intense emotion.) So... Yeah. Paying for it in this sense means without being rended emotionally, not actually using money. Also, is rended actually a word?
"Punctuality is the thief of time--I am not punctual myself, but I do like punctuality in others" (58).

"I have the simplest tastes... I am always satisfied with the best" (Back cover).


Yaaay! There you have it, many, many examples of Oscar Wilde being a fantastic human being. I realize I haven't cited where all these quotes came from but guess what? It's going to be a game for you, like Where's Waldo?, except... Well, Where's Waldo? is pretty awesome, actually. But yeah, maybe this will inspire you, EMMA, who is receiving an inordinate amount of textual abuse from me in this post for some reason. But come on. I finally dared face Charles Dickens--a thousand pages worth of Charles Dickens--so I figure you can do this, which will be infinitely more enjoyable. (And that's how I ended up in the Thunderdome, fighting Charles Dickens.) All I'm saying: the most came from The Picture of Dorian Gray, the best tend to come from The Soul of Man Under Socialism, and in general, the most well-known and most oft-quoted lines come ironically enough from what is arguably Oscar Wilde's most poorly-received and unknown play--Vera, or the Nihilists. (No, I haven't read it.) So yeah, hit this up. Not like I can't lend you 85% of his works... Or multiple copies of any of those works... Or you can continue to enjoy osmosis. I think I just like having excuses to write osmosis.

MLA Citation information: Wilde, Oscar. Oscar Wilde's Wit and Wisdom: A Book of Quotations. Dover Publications: United States, 1998.


Also, Hermione Danger's cat is named Crookshanked. And speaking of cats? "Oh, so it's my job to train the cats to rollerskate? What have you got to do that's so important?"--Emma. I can't wait till I forget the context of that text message and look back on that and don't even question it.

And what else? I've yet to watch Dorian Gray, but that will happen before the weekend is done. I'll be sure to post something about it, even if that post is just "ZOMG BEN BARNES COME AND RAVISH ME!" because really, if you're expecting anything more than that you are a fool, my good... audience. (Oh my God, more than one person is going to be reading this post. This is really, really weird.) Go ahead, judge me, if you dare. Actually, the question is probably what will I find sexier, Ben Barnes dressed up (oh that Victorian era fetish of mine) or him nude. Taking bets now! Also, while I'm talking about Ben Barnes and Colin Firth: Colin Firth's beard is funnier than the eighties. Seriously.

Answer to the post before last's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: Junkies Runnin' Dry by Operation Ivy
This post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: Well you know November has come when it's gone away
(PS. Regarding the lyrics--it took me a good five minutes to think of a good set, so you should appreciate it. I mean, I've used the obvious already, and then I was like "Oh, Magnolia by the Hush Sound would be perfect too!" Good news, brain. It happened.)

Sunday, November 14, 2010

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne

Hey, I originally wrote about half of this post and then Leopold decided he hated me. It was cute. So, there's going to be less of an introduction, etc, out of pure stubbornness.

This book is about the Holocaust through the eyes of an eight- or nine-year-old boy named Bruno. His father is a general, and because of this he is assigned to oversee a place called Out-With--thus his whole family must move with him, despite their wishes.
The description on the back: "If you start to read this book, you will go on a journey with a nine-year-old boy named Bruno. (Thought this isn't a book for nine-year-olds.) And sooner or later you will arrive with Bruno at a fence. Fences like this exist all over the world. We hope you never have to encounter one."

The first thing you notice--one of the first things--is Bruno's trouble with words. Being a young boy, this is understandable and to be expected. He calls Hitler the 'Fury' and Auschwitz 'Out-With'. He also has trouble with the word 'Jews'. Usually I don't read the 'bonus material' in the back of books, but in this case I felt compelled to when I had finished the book. One of the 'book club' questions is pretty much "Bruno has trouble with certain words because he has a kid, he mispronounces and misunderstands them, etc, but do you think there could have been a greater reason why the author chose to make these changes? Some other significant meaning, or some such?" (It's a little more put together than that...) So okay, in that case, Hitler's is pretty much self-explanatory: fury is violent, passionate, actions done with great violence, vehemence, passion, and so on. But Out-With... Out-With I have grappled with. My best guess is that Auschwitz is removed from the community--or the people of the community have done their best to displace it from their community in their heads, or ignore it, or blind themselves (see Stephen King's novella 'Apt Pupil'), so it is 'out'... But being human they are 'with' these people, because they are united in the fact that they are fellow humans, or in that they can't really turn away, deep down they know, regardless of what they have told themselves... So they're... Together but removed, if you will. Out yet With.
As for Jews, he never hears it incorrectly--it just skirts the word until his sister teaches it to him outright. His reaction to it is that he likes the word, the sound of it and all.

One thing I will mention before I actually start pulling quotes and stuff is that John Boyne does a great job of writing like he is a child thinking. So... Yeah. Let's go:

"'If you ask me, we're all in the same boat. And it's leaking'" (58). This is Bruno complaining about the new living situation to their (Jewish) housekeeper, Maria. Maria of course gets panicked and tells him to stop complaining about the situation and his father, because if it wasn't for Bruno's father's influence, one, she would have been penniless, two, she'd most likely be in a death camp. But this quote is what Bruno says about the situation, which I find impressive. I mean... it seems very adult of him. Like, Bruno parrots back a lot of phrases like kids are apt to, though he doesn't understand them, but there is no precedent for this one. He's just like BAM. And then he modifies it. And I'm all impressed. Just thought I'd mention it.

"'He's crazy,' Bruno said, twirling his finger in circles around the side of his head and whistling to indicate just how crazy he thought he was. 'He went up to a cat on the street the other day and invited her over for afternoon tea.' 'What did the cat say?' asked Gretel, who was making a sandwich in the corner of the kitchen. 'Nothing,' explained Bruno. 'It was a cat'" (68). This is just a little interlude. Nothing really pivotal. But for some reason, I really, really like this bit. Like, originally I didn't mark it to mention but I couldn't stop thinking of it, so I went back and marked it. And here we are...

"'Just because a man glances up at the sky at night does not make him an astronomer, you know'" (82). This is said by Pavel, a Jewish cook--however he, unlike Maria, lives in the camp. He was a doctor before he was forced to become a cook.

"What exactly was the difference? he wondered to himself. And who decided which people wore the striped pajamas and which people wore the uniforms?" (100).

Ooookay. It actually takes kind of a long time to get to the boy named in the title. Not till halfway through the book, literally. Bruno decides to try out his favourite activity--exploring. Shmuel is a boy from inside the fence--and the boy of the title, of course. And the two become friends, of course. They start meeting each other at the fence to talk through it from their separate sides at certain appointed times in the day. They become best friends.

"'Shmuel.' [Bruno] thought about it. 'Shmuel,' he repeated. 'I like the way it sounds when I say it. Shmuel. It sounds like the wind blowing'" (108).

Oh, and Hitler appears in the book too. Bruno has a flashback to the reason why they move--Hitler and his girlfriend come to dinner, where Hitler tells his father that they must move. I can say honestly, that even when Hitler is just being represented by squiggles on a page, he is a scary, scary man. He makes stupid quips everyone must laugh at, and Gretel wants attention so she pipes up and says that she can speak French. Hitler immediately turns ice-cold and asks why she would want to. A very Visser Three-esque feeling, I get. Which makes sense, I suppose. But it's a very tense scene even just reading, because even though the kids don't really get what's up (or at least Bruno)... I mean, you (the reader) know it's Hitler. And that tends to be one of those things that makes a person nervous... He doesn't exactly have a great reputation. Also, it's kind of weird to think of Hitler as a character in a book. And by 'kind of' I mean really, really weird.
"The Fury was far shorter than Father and not, Bruno supposed, quite as strong. He had dark hair, which was cut quite short, and a tiny moustache--so tiny in fact that Bruno wondered why he bothered with it at all or whether he had simply forgotten a piece when he was shaving" (121).

So, Bruno meets with Shmuel. They become close, regardless of the fact that they can't... really... become physically close. Like actually play together or anything. But. During all of this, of course, life is going on as usual at Bruno's home. Normal, average things--like a lice infestation. Bruno gets his head shaved in an effort to combat them. Right around here, on page 184, you get a sinking feeling,

"'Do you miss your friends?' 'Well, yes,' [Bruno] replied, considering his answer carefully. 'But I think I'd miss people no matter where I went'" (189).

The spoilers will be in this next section. You have been warned. Bruno's mother's desire to go back home is eventually honoured and it's decided they will go back. Bruno is upset about leaving Shmuel--and Shmuel is upset too. He's upset about that and the fact that his father has disappeared and no-one can seem to find him. Bruno decides that for their last meeting they will explore together, and Bruno will help Shmuel find his father. Because his head his shaved, he will look like he'd fit in at the other end of the fence--just so long as they can get him a set of striped pajamas.
Hearing this plan, I literally was saying no under my breath. I was literally speaking to it--going, "Oh God, no no no." Whether you want to look at it or not, from that point on you know how it will end. It is not an inkling. It is as inevitable as, I don't know, nightfall. Daybreak. It is there. They boys are swept up in a march. Thus Bruno's portion of the story ends:
"And then the room went very dark and somehow, despite the chaos that followed, Bruno found that he was still holding Shmuel's hand in his own and nothing in the world would have persuaded him to let go" (213).
And deep down, for the fraction of the second it takes to turn the page, you still want to hope, even though your heart is already broken, but then: "Nothing more of Bruno was ever heard of Bruno after that" (214).

John Boyne ends with his own note. "...Only the victims and survivors can truly comprehend the awfulness of that time and place; the rest of us live on the other side of the fence, staring through from our own comfortable place, trying in our own clumsy ways to make sense of it all. Fences such as the one at the heart of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas still exist; it is unlikely that they will ever fully disappear. But whatever reaction you have to this story, I hope that the voices of Bruno and Shmuel will continue to resonate with you as they have with me. Their lost voices must continue to be heard; their untold stories must be continue to be recounted. For they represent the ones who didn't live to tell their stories themselves" (218).
Like I said, there's 'bonus material' in the back too. Some of it is an interview with John Boyne. He's an incredibly eloquent fellow.
"[The book] came to me originally as one single image, of two boys sitting on either side of a fence, having a conversation. And I knew where that fence was. I knew those two boys really shouldn't be there. They had no business being there" (4). (The extras are numbered separately.)

"One of the big questions, and one of the big facts about the Holocaust, is that so many people just were complacent and didn't do anything. It's what we call 'Hitler's willing executioners.' People who sat by and did nothing. It raises the question of if we were there at that time, would we all have stood up and done something? You'd like to think you would have. Would you have? That's the question that people have to ask themselves" (8).

I was so enthralled with the book that I even read the book catalogue in the back. It doesn't really have to do with anything, but I was pleased to see Robert Cormier's I Am The Cheese and Holes by Louis Sachar. Both of these books are amazing. There's also a Jerry Spinelli book in the catalogue called Milkweed, also about the Holocaust--which I want to read just because it's Jerry Spinelli, and he was my favourite author of all time for a looooong time. I actually remember seeing this book at the local library and for whatever reason not choosing to read it. (Probably so I'd be able to take out Space Station Seventh Grade again.)

Anyway. The book. It was--a book. The book was a book. I can't assign a word to it. It was it was, but not in a bad way, or a good way. I mean, it was--good--but, that's not the word. I don't know the word needed. But I personally think it should be read. At the very least, read the interviews with the author. It seems strange that you'd choose to just do that, but if anything, just do that.

As for the movie, I've yet to see it, and I'm not sure that I'd want to. I mean, I would, but maybe in the "If it comes up on Netflix streaming in my suggested or if it's on TV" way. You know? I wouldn't choose to watch it, but I would.

MLA citation information: Boyne, John. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas. David Fickling Books: New York, 2006.

I also feel like this (instead of the cryptic lyrics, which will return next post) is appropriate--it's an episode of the Twilight Zone. It's called "Death's Head Revisited". It's about a general from Dachau who goes back to visit the camp after ten years to remember the 'good old days'. He's visited by the ghost of a man he killed and tortured (mentally) as the men he killed were tortured. The episode was mediocre at best, but I include a link to it for Rod Serling's conclusion speech. I think it is poignant, and it stands in the same way as this book stands, or at least in the same way as John Boyne intended it to stand. Start at 3:30. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mwUvTNmvynQ

Monday, October 18, 2010

Junky by William S Burroughs

It's actually kind of funny that I should decide to reread this now, as my college is in the supposed heroin capital of the US. (It's also noted for the fact that it has the second highest amount of Victorian houses out of anywhere in the US.) Thus, as you can imagine, this book is about doing heroin, cocaine, and there's a little tiny bit of marijuana use as well... Other drugs too, but we'll get to that.
So, this is William S Burroughs's first book, so it's not all... crazy. It's actually pretty readable, and really interesting. It's pretty much an account of junk usage over here, there, and everywhere. In our Rebels class an excerpt was presented to contrast Kerouac's On the Road--where Jack set up an optimistic, energetic picture of the time, William S Burroughs was darker, dimmer, and paid more attention to the dirt.
Oh, and one more thing: the version I'm reading is the "50th Anniversary Definitive Edition", so I decided that this time around I'd read all the bonus materials (now that the fear induced by Naked Lunch is fading--heck, I might even reread The Yage Letters--well--no--) included. So if you're just reading along with me, hanging onto every miserable typed word, go out and get this version. I think it's really the only version that's available now, but even if it's not it's probably the cooler-looking edition.

The introduction in the beginning of the book is by Oliver Harris, it was written eight years ago. One of the most important things he says comes on the first page: "One thing you can say about any book by William S Burroughs, however, is that whenever you think you've got it pinned down, that's when it slips from your fingers" (IX). It's doubtful that truer words have ever been spoken. Though a better description of how one feels when reading Naked Lunch would probably be more like: It is forever slipping through your fingers and you will never grab it no matter how much you flail around--and it may just be better that way. But I'd say Harris is definitely correct in what he's said in regard to The Yage Letters. I haven't read Burroughs's other books, but this kind of makes me want to read Queer, so perhaps we'll see further...?
One thing Harris brings up that bothers me is his praising of Burroughs's writing--now, the praise doesn't bother me, don't get me wrong, but what he should praise bothers me. He quotes: "You need a good bedside manner with doctors or you will get nowhere" (X). The point, I saw immediately--it's ironic, because you need what doctors are supposed to have, but if you have it, doctors will trust you--and subsequently, give you what you need. I guess what put me off is that Harris dwells on it and gets so worked up about dissecting something that seems pretty obvious--well, I don't know. It just bothered me. Maybe I'm just like the casual observer as compared to the connoisseur: I know it tastes good, but I couldn't tell you why and thus I can't properly appreciate it. Or something like that.
"Junky did not follow that path of group myth-making, autobiographical fiction that characterized Beat Generation writing" (XV). I can only imagine because it lacks the optimism and vigor (and I mean this about the three of his books I've read in general) Kerouac exercised. When it is more upbeat than "I'm going to make you cry" Burroughs tends to be alone. Well... I guess that's true about Kerouac too, but... There's some subtle difference, though that may lie in my own biases. Well, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more inclined to read Kerouac than Burroughs, in any case.

Okay, here we go, the start of the actual, original text:
Burroughs starts by describing his early life: "I recall hearing a maid talk about opium and how smoking opium brings sweet dreams, and I said: 'I will smoke opium when I grow up'" (XXXVII). I only bring this up because 99% of the time, opium sleep is supposed to be deep and undisturbed by dreams. Unless if the maid meant that the feeling induced by opium brought sweet dreams after the other effects wore off--I don't know. Whatever, I'm just nit-picking again. He heard what he heard.

"I read more than was usual for an American boy of that time and place: Oscar Wilde, Anatole France, Baudelaire, even Gide" (XXXVIII). Might I point out that all of these authors were reputed to be gay (and some were a little more than reputed). Burroughs was gay, though he practices a very odd dissociation--I mean, you know he's gay, he says he is, he talks about sleeping with other men--but he always refers to other gay men as "the/queers" and speaks of them--almost like a field researcher doing a case study. So, even though you know he's gay, you doubt it, because he sees other gay men as almost not human or a different species. Just kind of odd, I guess.

"I have never regretted my experience with drugs. I think I am in better health now as a result of using junk at intervals than I would be if I had never been an addict. When you stop growing you start dying. An addict never stops growing. Most users periodically kick the habit, which involves shrinking of the organism and replacement of the junk-dependent cells. A user is in a continual state of shrinking and growing in his daily cycle of shot-need for shot completed. Most addicts look younger than they are. Scientists recently experimented with a worm that they were able to shrink by withholding food. By periodically shrinking the worm so that it was in continual growth, the worm's life was prolonged indefinitely. Perhaps if a junkie could keep himself in a constant state of kicking, he would live to a phenomenal age" (XL-XLI). It's not difficult to believe that the drugs would preserve you. Might I mention that Burroughs lived to be eighty-three and Herbert Huncke (a junky who goes by the name of Elmer Hassel in On the Road, and "Hunk" or "Huck" in Desolation Angels, and appears in here and also there in other Beat writings) lived to eighty-one. It's kind of curious, and certainly interesting. On a side note, something about this section reminds me of Chuck Palahniuk--specifically Invisible Monsters when Shannon's ex is describing how every life is just a channel on God's TV and if he changes the channel we die--so we must never, ever get boring.

"I have learned the junk equation. Junk is not, like alcohol or weed, a means to increased enjoyment of life. Junk is not a kick. It is a way of life" (XLI).

"The effect was uncanny. You would see him one time a fresh-faced kid. A week or so later he would turn up so thin, sallow, and old-looking, you would have to look twice to recognize him. His face was lined with suffering in which his eyes did not participate. It was a suffering of his cells alone" (3). I love the fourth sentence in this, but it needed some sort of context. Clearly this is discussing the affect of junk and the lack thereof on a fellow named Jack--not Kerouac, just a random fellow named Jack.

"In 1937, weed was placed under the Harrison Narcotics Act. Narcotics authorities claim it is a habit-forming drug, that its use is injurious to mind and body, and that it causes the people who use it to commit crimes. Here are the facts: Weed is positively not habit-forming. You can smoke weed for years and experience no discomfort if your supply is suddenly cut off. I have seen tea heads in jail and none of them showed withdrawal symptoms. I have smoked weed myself off and on for fifteen years, and never missed it when I ran out. There is less habit to weed than there is tobacco. Weed does not harm the general health... I once kicked a junk habit with weed... Weed does not inspire anyone to commit crimes. I have never seen anyone get nasty under the influence of weed. Tea heads are a sociable lot. Too sociable for my liking. I cannot understand why the people who claim weed causes crime do not follow through and demand the outlawing of alcohol. Every day, crimes are committed by drunks who would not have committed the crime sober" (15-16) et cetera. He goes on to explain other--perhaps you wouldn't call them positives, but at the very least un-negatives, about weed. His one negative fact about weed is that someone high on it is "completely unfit" (16) to drive. Just thought I'd insert them here.

"The American middle-class citizen is a composite of negatives. He is largely delineated by what he is not. Gains went further. He was not merely negative. He was positively invisible; a vague respectable presence. There is a certain kind of ghost that can only materialize with the aid of a sheet or other piece of cloth to give it outline. Gains was like that. He materialized in someone else's overcoat" (35).

"'Herman [Huncke] was a beautiful kid when he first came to New York. The trouble is, he lost his looks'" (35).

"Walking around the city, I spotted several junk neighborhoods... I don't spot junk neighborhoods by the way they look, but by the feel, somewhat the same process by which a dowser locates hidden water. I am walking along and suddenly the junk in my cells moves and twitches like a dowser's wand: 'Junk here!'" (58).

At one point Burroughs goes to a gay bar--yet another example of him clearly showing his homosexuality (he leaves the bar with a fellow he plans on sleeping with) but yet again strangely disassociating himself from the other gay men there. ...Can I make a poor joke and say that this habit of his is rather... queer? Oh, gosh, I am hilarious.
In this scene he describes himself as getting "lobotomized drunk" (60). There's also some more humor in this scene: "I should have been more alert, of course, but I never could mix vigilance and sex" (60).

"A sick junkie has no escape from external time, no place to go. He can only wait" (72).

At one point Burroughs is in prison for his drugs. The copper refers to him as Mr Lee. When he originally published the book, he published under a pen name--well, a few pen names, depending on when it was being reissued... But my point is (to the best of my knowledge, unless if it was some old nickname for him or some such) that the name Lee--Bull Lee full, Old Bull Lee--comes from On the Road. Just thought it was interesting. Also, I almost wrote 'On the Roast'. ...

On criticizing a hospital's psychiatrist: "He was not effeminate. He simply had none of whatever it is that makes a man a man" (82).

"In Mexico your wishes have a dream power. When you want to see someone, he turns up" (95).

"The meaning of 'manana' is 'Wait until the signs are right'" (95)/ "For the next week that was all I heard, Manana, a lovely word and one that probably means heaven" (On the Road by Jack Kerouac, page 195).

"Once a junkie, always a junkie. You can stop using junk, but you are never off after the first habit" (97).

Burroughs criticizes the "war on drugs" often as well (though I don't believe it was known as exactly that until later) as you've already seen. This image he tears apart isn't that prevalent anymore (I can't even think of the last time I even saw a drug-PSA commercial actually, so maybe it is and the fact that I've watched TV maybe twice in the last two months nullifies my statement), but if you've ever watched eighties drug PSA commercials, it seems that only kids do drugs, and also guys who can change into snakes. "Safe in Mexico, I watched the anti-junk campaign. I read about child addicts and senators demanding the death penalty for dope peddlers. It didn't sound right to me. Who wants kids for customers? They never have enough money and they always spill under questioning. Parents find out the kid is on junk and go to the law. I figured that either Stateside peddlers have gone simpleminded or the whole child-addict set-up is a propaganda routine to stir up anti-junk sentiment and pass some laws" (120). High five, William S Burroughs! Logos!

Page 121: the word haberdashery is used. And it continues to be pretty much the best word in the English language.

"When you give up junk, you give up a way of life. I have seen junkies kick and hit the lush and wind up dead in a few years. Suicide is frequent among ex-junkies. Why does a junky quit junk of his own free will? You never know the answer to that question. No conscious tabulation of the disadvantages and horrors of junk gives you the emotional drive to kick. The decision to quit junk is a cellular decision, and once you have decided to quit you cannot go back to junk permanently any more than you could stay away from it before. Like a man who has been away a long time, you see things different when you return from junk" (127).

Burroughs concludes the original 'story' part of the text with the discussion of yage. He mentions that Russians are also experimenting with yage to see its effects on the personality and the work--namely to turn a person into an unquestioning and obedient worker. I feel the need to mention that Nazis attempted this sort of drug experimentation with cocaine mixed into--I believe--martinis to increase stamina and willingness to work. Oh Stumbleupon, where would I be without you?
Anyways, the 'story' part of the text concludes as such: "Kick is seeing things from a special angle. Kick is momentary freedom from the claims of aging, cautious, nagging, frightened flesh. Maybe I will find in yage what I was looking for in junk and weed and coke. Yage may be the final fix" (128). Oh hey, lead-in to The Yage Letters. (Though that book wouldn't be published for another ten years, but shush.) ...I honestly can't tell you if it was the final kick or not, because really all I remember is that he talked about an HG Wells story and included a drawing of his that was supposed to be the great being but looked suspiciously similar to female genitalia.
Burroughs includes a glossary at the end as well. "Beat" means to takes money from someone. Special significance then, in the proclamation that "We are the Beat generation"? Not sure.
"Hep or Hip... Someone who knows the score. Someone who understands 'jive talk.' Someone who is 'with it.' The expression is not subject to definition because, if you don't 'dig' what it means, no one can ever tell you" (130). What he means to say is, either you're on the bus or you're off the bus.
Oh, and the glossary reveals that muggles was slang for marijuana back in the day. This shines a whole new light on the Harry Potter series, I must say...

And then several indexes are included.
Appendix I is the ripped apart and reseeded twenty-eighth chapter of the original manuscript of this book. It mostly has to do with orgones (just google it, I don't even know how to simply explain them) and his orgone collection box (which I'm pretty sure is briefly mentioned in On the Road). It also talks more about the constant shrinkage and growth of cells as being that which keeps a man alive for longer--more quotes similar to the one regarding the worm way, way back in the beginning.
"Possibly all pleasure is basically relief from a condition of need, or tension" (137). (The popular version of this quote is "Perhaps all pleasure is only relief".)
"Perhaps the reason for the short life of the American business man is that he experiences no cycle of shrinking and growth. He does not exercise, he is never hungry. His life is a one-way process. When his organism reaches maturity it can only start dying" (137).
"Perhaps the intense discomfort of withdrawal is the transition from plant back to animal, from a painless, sexless, timeless state back to sex and pain and time, from death back to life" (138).

Appendix II is one of many of the various introductions to the text. It's got ten facts that prove propaganda 'facts' wrong. "Addiction ruins the health and leads to early death. As I read in a magazine article, 'Morphine addicts have numbered days on earth.' Who hasn't?" (141). Very Vonnegut-ish in tone, if you ask me.
"I do not intend to correct popular misconceptions about junk by presenting the facts that are already known to anyone informed on the subject. I am using the known facts as a starting point in an attempt to reach facts that are not known" (143).

The other Appendixes are various introduction by various fellows. I like Allen Ginsberg, but he cannot do this sort of thing for beans. He's very eloquent--but he cannot stay collected for a solid piece of writing. Case in point, the contents of one of his parenthesis: "a point I argued with as much as I could in his Doubleday office, belt felt faint surrounded by so much Reality... mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors... my own paranoia or inexperience with the great Dumbness of Business Buildings of New York" (155). The ellipses were there to begin with, by the way. But it's kind of like "No, Ginsberg! Focus, FOCUS! Come baaaaack!" He's got a few examples of good focused phrasery, though:
"...Bill was too diffident to make such extravagant theater of self" (154).
"Certainly these books indicated we were in the middle of an identity crisis prefiguring nervous breakdown for the whole United States" (155).


Woah, whooo. We made it. I happen to be rather fond of this book, though it has put in me a fear of needles that I never had, even when I was a little kid. Descriptions of junkies shooting up and blood-filled needles.... Nope, no thanks. It's rather interesting, in any case. I'd suggest a read-through if the subject interests you. If not... Then don't. And don't worry, I'm not a drug addict. Yet. (Remember where my college is!)

Works cited/MLA stuff: Burroughs, William S. Junky. Penguin Books: New York, 2003.

Answer to last post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma that isn't even really that necessary because she guessed it correctly: Life on Mars by David Bowie
This post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: They can't be satisfied, like junkies running dry

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Out of the Silent Planet by CS Lewis

Hey guys. You remember last year when Emma went to college and only posted once in a blue moon and I was all "Pfft, Emma. WEAK" and she was all "Shut up Angela, college is busy." Well... She's right. It is pretty busy. In fact, I should be writing a response to a play right now but guess what? Not happening. Well, not now at least. Though actually my drama teacher loves me so perhaps I could get away with it... I didn't read a play and completely BSed a response and she based her whole lesson off of it. So she loves me now. And I also have further proof that a PhD in BSing is a viable option for me. I actually think I was awarded one when I was born, you know? I may not know what I'm talking about, but damn can I make it sound good. Now we pray she never, ever finds this blog. Ever. Anyway, other differences between college and high school: Guys are attracted to me? What? Like four guys like me. Weird. ...And, that's about it. Some similarities? The people in my English class undoubtedly hate me, as I'm just kicking ass here. Guys, it's what I do. (Puts on sunglasses.) Mmm-hmmm.

Anyway... like I said, Emma is right. There's not a lot of time to read and write about stuff. It took an obscene amount of time to finish this one book. Seriously, what? It's like one-hundred fifty-eight pages. Plus, CS Lewis wrote it, so you think I'd be all ZOMG MUST READ EVERY WORD OF IT THIS VERY SECOND. Speaking of, I misquoted CS Lewis on a quiz in drama and there's another reason my teacher loves me. High five?
Let's see, this book comes completely one hundred percent out of CS Lewis's and JRR Tolkien's bromance. According to Scheiber, this book came out of a deal between the two. JRR Tolkien was all, "You write a book about space travel and I'll write a book about time travel and it will be so RAD." Or vice versa. Whatever it may be, what came of that is The Space Trilogy (this is first in the trilogy) and Tolkien wrote The Silmarillion. (This anecdote isn't backed up by Wikipedia, but I actually trust Scheiber more than Wikipedia on this matter.) And it probably was rad. Well, maybe, I haven't read the other two bits of this trilogy and Fabrizzles doesn't seem particularly affectionate towards The Silmarillion, which isn't a good sign at all. But for Tolkien and CS Lewis it was probably really rad, they probably went on a date or something. Or, like, ninety.
So, right, the book itself. So there's this doctor, JRR Tolkien--er, Doctor Ransom, who is having a perfectly average walk in the country, enjoying his vacation and whatnot. The long and short of this is, he ends up at a house where a commotion is going on within. Ransom attempts to break it up and instead gets drugged and knocked out and he wakes up on a space ship. By the time he lands on the planet Malacandra, he discovers he's intended to be a human sacrifice for the residents of the planet. Not wanting to die, he escapes his captors and wanders about on the planet, which is pretty much most of the book.

"He walked fairly fast, and doggedly, without looking much about him, like a man trying to shorten the way with some interesting train of thought. He was tall, but a little round-shouldered, about thirty-five to forty years of age, and dressed with a particular kind of shabbiness which marks a member of the intelligentsia on holiday. He might easily be mistaken for a doctor or schoolmaster at first sight, though he had not the man-of-the-world air of the one or the indefinable breeziness of the other. In fact, he was a philologist, and fellow of a Cambridge college. His name was Ransom" (10). Are you so sure that it wasn't JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis? Because I'm pretty sure the fellow you just described is actually John Ronald Reagan Tolkien Black Child. Also, I have really bad insomnia which my roommate exacerbates and a few nights ago I was up for two hours writing and doodling in the dark. I managed to get a half hour of sleep before my alarm rang, but that's beside the point: in the morning, I found a scribble on those papers which reads as follows: "Q: What was JRR Tolkie[n]? A: A phiLOLogist!!!"

The men in the house who eventually abduct Ransom are Devine and Weston. The house's gates are locked--the reason why he wants to go in at all is because he met a woman who explained her son worked there, and she was worried that he wasn't home yet, and he promised he'd go and get the boy. So he's a little agitated that these gates are locked. He, not knowing the men inside yet, refers to the as-yet professor fellow as an eccentric, with the insult--"the sort of man who kept his gate locked in the country" (12). ...Well, I thought it was a funny insult...

Anyway, the boy and the men appear to be struggling. Knowing they've been caught in the act, they let the boy go free and talk it off. It becomes clear later that they intended to send the boy up... Well. Ransom, a little hesitantly, takes them up on the offer for refreshments and rest.
"'I'm on a walking-tour,' said Ransom... 'Can the attraction of it be explained to the uninitiate?' asked Devine... 'To begin with, I like the actual walking--' 'God! You must have enjoyed the army'... 'No, no. It's just the opposite of the army. The whole point about the army is that you are never alone for a moment and can never choose where you're going or even what part of the road you're walking on. On a walking-tour you are absolutely detached. you stop where you like and go on when you like. As long as it lasts you need consider and consult no one but yourself'... 'But can you even disappear like that? No wife, no young, no aged but honest parent or anything of that sort? ...Do you really mean to say that no one knows where you are or when you ought to get back, and no one can get a hold of you?'" (19). Ransom, you idiot. I know you know Devine from school but still, you shouldn't let people know thing like that, especially if you don't trust them. That's how people die in horror movies, Ransom!
Also, I was going to use this as more proof that CS Lewis can't spell his bromantic partner's name correctly, but apparently he was in the war too, so that's probably just him speaking straight-up through Ransom. Also, I really like the section before Devine gets all sinister on him.

Okay, so Devine obviously knocks Ransom out and when he awakens they're in space. Ransom is more than a little shocked at his situation and also that no-one has heard of the events because, come on, it's kind of hard to conceal a rocket ship. But Weston explains the momentous effects of his ship and what it means (which rather disgusts Ransom and the inhabitants of Malacandra, but we'll get there when we get there): "'As far as we know, we are are doing what has never been done in the history of man, perhaps never in the history of the universe. We have learned how to jump off the speck of matter on which our species began; infinity, and therefore perhaps eternity, is being put into the hands of the human race. You cannot be so small-minded as to think that the rights or the life of an individual or of a million individuals are of the slightest importance in comparison to this.' 'I happen to disagree,' said Ransom, 'And I always have disagreed, even about vivisection'" (29).
As Weston clearly has no qualms about leading Ransom to what he believes will be Ransom's demise, or the demise of even a million, it makes him sort of a strange hypocrite, as he clearly wants to give humankind "infinity" and "eternity". As Oyarsa (one of the inhabitants of Malacandra) will put it later on: "'You do not love any one of your race... You do not love the mind of your race, nor the body. Any kind of creature will please you if only it is begotten by your kind as they now are'" (137). He simply cares for mankind continuing to regenerate and the race to survive, but balls on the individual people. As long as man survives somehow, it is a success. Oyarsa's speech confuses me a little, but I'll touch back upon this later, okay? (Regardless of any confusion, knowing CS Lewis, it's clear from this if it wasn't before that Weston has been marked. This isn't the sort of thought-pattern he'd approve of.)
Oh, and I thought Ransom's rejoinder was a tad humorous, even if it was not entirely intended to be; I honestly cannot tell.

Ah, and this is just a side little note, which is mostly me nitpicking: in the ship, the men can't really talk often for fear they'll waste the air. CS Lewis... they're called plants. They make oxygen. Problem: solved.

"For the most part [Devine's] conversation ran on the things he would do when he got back to earth: ocean-going yachts, the most expensive women and a big place on the Riviera figured largely in his plans. 'I'm not running all these risks for fun'" (33). These two sentences are basically the equivalent of CS Lewis taking a bullhorn and shouting, "THIS IS A BAD MAN!" two feet away from you. CS Lewis doesn't approve of gettin' the bitches, or that other stuff. And Devine's completely serious comment just cements it.

"A nightmare, long engendered in the modern mind by the mythology that follows in the wake of science, was falling off of [Ransom]. He had read of 'Space': at the back of his thinking for years had lurked the dismal fantasy of the black, cold vacuity, the utter deadness, which was supposed to separate the worlds. He had not known how much it affected him till now--now that the very name 'Space' seemed a blasphemous libel for this empyrean ocean of radiance in which they swam. he could not call it 'dead'; he felt life pouring into him from it every moment. How indeed should it be otherwise, since out of this ocean the worlds and all their life had come? He had thought it barren: he saw now that it was the womb of worlds, whose blazing and innumerable offspring looked down nightly even upon the earth with so many eyes--and here, with how many more! No: space was the wrong name. Older thinkers had been wiser when they named it simply the heavens--the heavens which declared the glory..." (34). CS Lewis and Carl Sagan just high-fived in the hereafter.

And, to further mark the two as bad people, Ransom overhears Weston telling Devine that he may keep some of the aliens (though it seems strange to refer to them as such) as pets, and sleep with them if he wants (and should interbreed with them in fact, if he's so willing to stay on the planet). Devine gets disgusted, but still, CS Lewis is spray painting on the wall outside of your room: "THESE MEN ARE LOATHSOME THEMSELVES!"

Ah, so eventually they do land, and Ransom escapes the two bent men. Eventually he runs into a Hross, a friendly creature that's like a big talking otter-stoat creature. Before it notices him, it talks to itself, and Ransom gets all excited because, surprise! Ransom is a phiLOLogist. Immediately, upon realizing the creature has its own strange tongue and is actually speaking, he becomes excited at the prospect of studying the language and perhaps even making a book of it.
"The love of knowledge is a kind of madness. In the fraction of a second which it took Ransom to decide that the creature was really talking, and while he still knew that he might be facing instant death, his imagination had leaped over every fear and hope and probability of his situation to follow the dazzling project of making a Malacandrian grammar. An Introduction to the Malacandrian language--The Lunar verb--A Concise Martian-English Dictionary... the titles flitted through his mind. And what might one discover from the speech of a non-human race? The very form of language itself, the principle behind all possible languages, might fall into his hands" (56). John, your BFFL is taking pot-shots at you!
Well, the alien proves to be much more 'human' than either of Ransom's companions. Even though they cannot communicate or anything, its first action is completely one of kindliness and brotherhood: it offers him some of his drink. Then it introduces itself, teaches Ransom some very basic words of its language, and feeds him.
"The huge, seal-like creature seated beside him became unbearably ominous. It seemed friendly; but it was very big, very black, and he knew nothing about it... Was it really as rational as it appeared? It was only many days later that Ransom discovered how to deal with these sudden losses of confidence. They arose when the rationality of the hross tempted you to think of it as a man. Then it became abominable--a man seven feet high, with a snaky body, covered, face and all, with thick black animal hair, and whiskered like a cat. But starting from the other end you had an animal with everything an animal ought to have--glossy coat, liquid eye, sweet breath and whitest teeth--and added to all these, as though Paradise had never been lost and earliest dreams were true, the charm of speech and reason. Nothing could be more disgusting than the one impression; nothing more delightful than the other. It all depended on the point of view" (59).

So, the hrossa accept Ransom almost like that. Unsurprisingly, they have a theology which sounds oddly familiar. Maleldil is the being which made the world, but he lives with the Old One who is "'not the sort... that he has to live anywhere'" (69). They go into this later on, but the bare-bones explanation is of course that the Old One is God and Maleldil is... also... God. Just an able-to-be-comprehended by mortals version of God. Mayhap.

There are three classifications of sentient aliens on this planet, by the way. They're all equally amiable (though the sorns are fearful to look at, hence the men automatically fear them and why Devine and Weston assume they want human sacrifice when really they're offering for the men to meet their prime religious fellow-local deity sort of deal). The smallest and squattest are good builders and love digging for metals and then solder it to make things. The Hrossa are the best singers and writers; they especially love writing poetry. The sorns are described as the most intelligent by the Hrossa in that they're good astronomers and act almost as priests or translators for Oyarsa, and they record history--so they admit their intelligence even if the sorns care little for poetry, a fact that totally befuddles the hrossa. The hrossa also find it kind of surprising that the sorns cannot swim and cannot fish. Sounds like somebody was sharing ideas with another old Brit... (Well, they pretty much just hung out all the time and did just that, so it's no real surprise that that should be the case...

And this is just a comment on how the book is formatted: in cases where the plural is possessive (ex workers', doctors', etc) instead of just doing the one apostrophe, the editor put a set of quotation marks (so it would be doctors", workers", etc). It's no biggie, really, but it bothered the hell out of me.

The hrossa also practice pretty admirable customs, social commentary from CS Lewis. Which isn't a huge surprise because he wrote the book...? Well, in this case the idea that is being explained to him is that hrossa only mate once in their lives with one mate (hrossa, so far as I can figure, produce litters), which keeps from stressing available resources, unlike man. (A side-note, the hrossa also do not understand war or why it should ever happen. They also share freely and without any question.)
"'Is the begetting of young not a pleasure among the hrossa?' 'A very great one, Hman. This is what we call love.' 'If a thing is a pleasure, a hman wants it again. he might want the pleasure more often than the number of young that could be fed.' It took Hyoi a long time to get the point. 'You mean,' he said slowly, 'that he might do it not only in one or two years of his life but again?' 'Yes.' 'But why? Would he want his dinner all day or want to sleep after he had slept? I do not understand.' 'But a dinner comes every day. This love, you say, comes only once while the hross lives?' 'But it takes his whole life. When he is young he has to look for his mate; and then he has to court her; and then he begets young; then he rears them; then he remembers all this, and it boils inside him and makes it into poems and wisdom.' 'But the pleasure he must be content only to remember?'" (74). I'm just going to interject really quickly here. I find 'boils' to be a strange choice of words. I mean, it makes sense, but boil usually has negative connotations, like "he was boiling mad" or "his temper was at the boiling point", and so on.
Anyway, in response to Ransom's question, Hyoi (the hross) explains as follows: "'A pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered. You are speaking, Hman, as if the pleasure as if the pleasure were one thing and the memory another. It is all one thing... What you call remembering is the last part of pleasure, as the crah is the last part of a poem. When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be as I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then--that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it'" (74).
Thus, Ransom (and other men) are focused on the physical, sexual pleasure of begetting. The hross see it all together as one big, great, pleasureful... thing. They're not focused on the sex, they're focused on the whole... The best word I can think of--the better word I can think of--would be joy. Also, Hyoi is talking about the corruption of memory, but corruption in a good, affectionate way. Kind of like how some people romanticize their childhood but it actually was really lame and actually kind of sucked. Of course, Hyoi (and most other people) don't have to worry about accidentally stumbling back into their past and getting the tar beaten out of them and realizing that their childhood sucked...

"'But a world is not meant to last for ever, much less a race; that is not Maledil's way'" (100). A Sorn tells Ransom this. Remember what Weston said...?

"[The sorns] were astonished at what [Ransom] had to tell them of human history--of war, slavery, and prostitution. 'It is because they have no Oyarsa'... 'It is because every one of them wants to be a little Oyarsa himself'" (102).

"'Your thought must be at the mercy of your blood'" (102).

So eventually, Ransom is brought to Oyarsa, which... I guess you'd say he was an archangel?Might I add that he's not exactly ethereal as well. "'Have you servants out in the heavens?' 'Where else? There is nowhere else.' 'But you, Oyarsa, are here on Malacandra, as I am.' 'But Malacandra, like all worlds, float in heaven'" (119). Okay, I thought this was cool. I mean, you say heaven and immediately one thinks of religious connotations: it is above us, in the clouds, and for the most part it is believed God(s) live there. You say space though, and you think of the planets and stars and... you know. Space. I mean, sometimes the air above us is called the 'heavens', but normally those two ideas aren't really collapsed, even when you use that phrasing. But CS Lewis just successfully collapsed it without hardly breaking a sweat. And in that he's kind reminding us that heaven is all around us... but... in a scientific way... Well, it's a different if not new (new for me!) way of phrasing and thinking, and also yet another example of CS Lewis's rad-ness.

And Oyarsa isn't even a real name either--its more like a generic name. From what I understand, each Oyarsa 'creature' was given its own planet, or a group of them were or some such...? Well, these Oyarsas communicate between each other through the heavens, but Earth is silent and doesn't communicate, because Earth's Oyarsa was great and intelligent, but he became bent. He then wanted to travel to other worlds and ruin them (parallels with Weston and Devine, anyone?) but he was bound to Earth. I trust you can figure out who exactly our Oyarsa is. If you still need some hints: "'We think that Maledil would not give it up utterly to the Bent One, and there are stories among us that He has taken strange counsel and dared terrible things, wrestling with the Bent One'" (120). I also find this curious because I'm pretty sure that CS Lewis implied that only our planet is fraught with misfortune and suffering.

"'Bent creatures are full of fears'" (121).

"But Weston did not know the Malacandrian word for laugh: indeed, it was not a word he understood very well in any language" (127).

Now, Weston is eventually taken away from Oyarsa's counsel. Oyarsa instructs that his head be soaked in water in an attempt to clear it or at least humble him. He's brought back of course, and the hross tell a story reminiscent of the incidents with Uncle Andrew in The Magician's Nephew. "'We dipped [Weston's] head in the cold water seven times, but the seventh time something fell off it... Then some said we had done your will with the seven dips, and others said not. In the end we dipped it seven times more. We hope that was right. The creature talked a lot between the dips, and most between the second and seven, but we could not understand it'" (131). Uncle Andrew faints in Narnia, and the animals attempt to revive him, though they're not sure what he is, having never seen a man before. They decide that he is a tree of some sort, so they bury him to his knees in mud and the elephants douse him in water. Eventually he begins to awaken and speak, and the animals attempt to be even more helpful by feeding him--throwing nuts and honey and more to him. Uncle Andrew views this all as an assault (as he refuses to accept what he sees and so he becomes unable to comprehend it) and so fumbles about and sobs for brandy. Because he becomes unable to understand the animals, they can't understand him--except for that one word, which they christen him with (because he "said it so often").

Okay, back to Oyarsa's statement on 137. He ends what I have already quoted (Ctrl+F that because I am lazy) with "'...What you really love is no completed creature but the very seed itself: for that is all that is left'" (137). So... with the "'begotten by your kind as they now are'" (137), would that be saying that what Weston really cares for is just sex itself? Which would be an exact parallel of the hross view of propagation, and most likely the other sentient beings of Malacandra--most likely, the views of inhabitants of any other planets as well. So... yeah. Lust. Seven deadly sins. Bam.

One thing that bothers me is how CS Lewis steps into this story. He does this a lot in The Chronicles of Narnia, saying things like "I won't go into details of this that or the other thing", "Surely you wouldn't want to hear about that" and so on. However, this book sounds more like--maybe not that he was writing it expressly for adults, but it gives the feeling of being more like one of his books intended for adults, like say The Screwtape Letters. I suppose the intelligent way of saying what I just said would be to say it seems more mature. But being that it feels that way, his interjections look silly and are also a little annoying. In one case it is completely unavoidable (Oyarsa has a private conversation with Ransom about the workings of the universe, and of course CS Lewis can't very well go on about that) but even so. I am going to complain like it's my job.

Although the book ends like a normal book would, CS Lewis throws in an epilogue and also a letter to CS Lewis from JRR--eh--Ransom. They were, according to that, acquaintances--of course, the word bromantics probably wasn't coined until recently, and BFFs probably wasn't either. Still, we all know that that's a huge downplay on what recent scholars have come to call "one of the most intense bromances of all time".*

Okay. So the book was pretty cool, and it's also pretty standalone which is also nice, because I've never seen the other books in this series in existence. It's not my favorite by CS Lewis, but considering what it's up against, is anyone really surprised? It's not really sci-fi; a hardcore sci-fi fan is going to be disappointed. But I feel like a Ray Bradbury fan would enjoy it, since he tends to have sci-fi elements, but they tend to focus on other things more. So... Yay Ray Bradbury? I also have two more comments. About each planet having its own archangel-esque being, apparently that was a popular Medieval idea. It's discussed a little--well, in a footnote--in Marlowe's Doctor Faustus. Also, I didn't realize the title of this book until just now (as in, what it refers to). I am fantastic.

MLA Citation information: Lewis, CS. Out of the Silent Planet. Scribner: New York, 2003.

Answer to last post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: Shores of California by The Dresden Dolls
This post's cryptic song lyrics for Emma: Take a look at that lawman beating up the wrong man, I wonder if he'll ever know he's in the best-selling show, is there life on Mars?

Also: Emma, I saw your post. I could lie and say I'd do the same, but let's face it. My twitter (unfortunately) gives people a pretty clear idea of my life without a blog post being necessary. What I mean to say is, I can sum my twitter up in this: British actors, LEGOs, bad puns/jokes, Quoting CS Lewis/song lyrics, Obscure jokes about obscure movies/books, jokes about books in general, dinosaurs, David Bowie, Doctor Who, and Kool-Aid. No further explanation is required other than please don't beat me up.


*D., Angela. Text Message to Emma M. Oscar/Wilde: Connecticut, 2010.