Update

Hello all,

This is a very quick note to say that I haven't forgotten about my blog, and I know what my next topic will be, but it will be awhile before I get to it. For my next entry, I'm going to be writing about Shakespeare outside of his own writing. I'll be discussing Wondrous Strange by Lesley Livingstone and Shakespeare:The World as a Stage by Bill Bryson.

I begin my librarianship course in a couple of weeks, so I don't know how much time I'm going to have to read, but as soon as I've read both books, I'll get to it.

Sarah

Edit: This post on Shakespeare may be slightly delayed, as I've found yet another book on Shakespeare to included. This means yet another book to read before I can do my post on the Bard.

Playing with Language

I've been thinking a lot about what I like in books, and I've discovered that one thing I don't usually like is when authors play too much with language. I really didn't like Finnegan's Wake or A Clockwork Orange. I guess I found them pretentious. It's as though Joyce and Burgess were saying "look at me! I'm so clever! I can make a novel completely incomprehensible and be seen as a genius." It really irritates me. I want to be challenged by a novel, but not irritated by it. I sometimes think that author's get carried away with their own "brilliance". Is it really necessary to create a new language?

See, but now we have a problem; I don't think Tolkein was being pretentious when he wrote a new language for The Trilogy of the Ring. His elvish language really seemed to fit naturally into the story, and didn't take away from my enjoyment of the story. Now, it may have taken away from other people's enjoyment, but it didn't detract from mine. I guess it's all just a really personal thing. I don't know why A Clockwork Orange irritates me but The Fellowship of the Ring doesn't. For me, it comes down to the necessity of the language to the work. Burgess had a good idea, but I don't know that the language changes were necessary.

One work where I feel that the changes to the language that the author made really worked was Ella Minnow Pea, by Mark Dunn. I was just blown away by this book, which was given to me by a friend of the family. I had never heard of this book, but David felt that I would enjoy it, and I really did, so I have to thank him for introducing me to this great book. I would recommend it to pretty much anyone. The premise of the story revolves around a small island that had been the home to the man who created the phrase "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog." We are all familiar with this sentence, which uses all 26 letters of the alphabet. Ella Minnow Pea raises this sentence to great import.

In the story, the island of Nollop is the home of Nevin Nollop, the creator of the sentence, which is engraved on a memorial in the main square. When letters begin to fall off the memorial, the island's government takes this as a message from Nollop that these letters should no longer be used. The novel is a series of letters written by Ella (Ella Minnow Pea = LMNOP, get it?) that reflect the ever more difficult task of writing and creating language as letters are removed.

Although I most enjoyed the book because of the way the language is used, there are many other themes, such as totalitarianism, freedom of speech etc. This novel really stands the test of time, and I highly recommend it.

How do you all feel about books that play with language? Do you admire the authors or think they need to get over themselves?

A Change of Pace

For this entry, I am digressing from my purpose of discussing books to discuss the theatre for a moment. Since it's my blog, I figure I can talk about whatever I want to talk about. Who's going to stop me? Last night, Sean and I went to a play at the Luminato festival. Now, I'm not a big theatre going. It's too expensive, and I hate being crowded into a seat that's too small, so I don't usually go. We went last night because the director and creator of the piece is an acquaintance of ours. Erika Batdorf is a talented writer, performer, and director who also happens to be a Baha'i in Toronto. How could we not go and support her? So, we went.

The play is "One Pure Longing: Tahireh's Search" and it was an hour long performance about finding one's voice. I was just blown away. Now, as I said earlier, I'm not a big theatre goer, and I'm certainly no expert on drama or dramaturgy or anything like that, but I thought this piece was just amazing. It was in no way a linear drama, and there was almost no plot. This made it difficult for me to get into immediately, but before too long I was just completely engrossed.

The play opened with breathing. Just breathing. This went on for so long it was almost painful. The anticipation just built and built and built until someone finally spoke. Well, chanted in Farsi would be more accurate. Many of the words in the play were those of Tahireh, a 19th century Persian poet and early Babi. She unveiled publicly and was eventually killed for it. Her story is that of a woman struggling to find her voice at a time when oppressed peoples all around the world were also struggling to find their voices. "One Pure Longing" is an expression of those people.

The cast was phenomenal. My personal favourite was Meegwun Fairbrother, an Ojibwe actor. He was just amazing. He certainly found his voice. There was African dancing, Farsi chanting, Ojibwe singing and English speaking. What a mix. It all came together beautifully.

I wish the play was on for longer, but hopefully it will come back soon.

Brain Candy

We all know that junk food isn't good for us. We know that we should eat our fruit and veggies and stay away from the processed foods and sugar, but that's no fun at all. We would be much healthier if we could all stick with eating what is good for us; is the same true for what we read? Would we be healthier in our minds and our spirits if we only read "healthy" books? Of course, the question then becomes, what is a healthy book? Is it good enough to simply be reading? Or should we choose the books we read with care?

At my last book club meeting, we somehow got onto the topic of Harlequin romance novels. It turns out we all went through a phase where we were reading those. Although we all enjoyed reading them, looking back, we were all struck by the messages in them. There are a number of plots where a woman is raped, and then ends up married to her rapist. What does that tell young women who are reading those books? Does it teach them to be strong and stand up for themselves? No. It tells them that they are incomplete without a man, and that since they have been raped, they are damaged goods. What a terrible message. Am I a better person for having read those books when I was a teenager? I don't think that they damaged me, but I don't think I've been improved by reading them.

I've also spent a lot of time in the past little while reading YA literature, and today I'll wade into the Twilight vs. Harry Potter debate. I come down firmly on the side of good old Harry. Bella, the heroine of the Twilight series is desperate to spend the rest of her life with her man. She is not concerned with furthering her education, or spreading her wings and developing as an independent woman. All she can think of is being with Edward. She gets married at 18 and immediately has a child. I'm not saying that this is automatically wrong, but the message that is given in Twilight is that a woman is not complete without a creepy, stalkerish man. Harry Potter is much more independent. He is not perfect, but he works with his friends to improve the world. I think that's a great message. He solves problems, is constantly learning, and he depends on his friends. I would much rather any children I may have read Rowling's books than Meyer's books.

I've just finished reading the last two Sookie Stackhouse novels, and I have to wonder if they are just Twilight for grown-ups. Is there something life-affirming and uplifting about them?

SPOILER ALERT!!!

In the second to last book, Sookie ends up married to Eric, but she didn't want to marry him. He tricked her. What kind of message is that? The man should get what he wants and what the woman wants doesn't matter. Eric claims that he's only doing what is in her best interest, but again, what kind of message is that? Women can't take responsibility for their own destinies? We need men to decide what is good for us? Grrrrrrr.

So, if these are the messages in the books, why am I still reading them? What does it say that I will continue to read the Sookie novels and enjoy them? Am I just letting down my hair and enjoying myself? Who knows. I guess it will require a little more thinking.