[Open Letters] To: Aspiring Novelists

Note: I have placed an updated version of this letter here: http://www.seanjjordan.com/to-aspiring-writers/

To: Aspiring Novelists
Re: Getting Published

So you want to get a novel published. And you’ve decided it’s time to start shopping your pitch around.

Do yourself a favor. Don’t. Because chances are good you’re wasting your time. Which means, by extension, you’re going to waste a lot of peoples’ time in the process.

You might think that you’re a great writer. There’s a possibility that you are even a great novelist, but it’s remote. I can say that safely because I know that you don’t have any experience writing actual novels. If you did, you wouldn’t be looking for a publisher. You’re a wannabe, and while you might believe that you’re sitting on something incredible, I’d be willing to bet that the book you think you’ve written and the book you’ve actually written are vastly different in quality.

Go to a bookstore and check out the fic/lit section. Notice how many books are on the shelves. Notice how many you’ve never even heard of. Now, understand that this section represents just a tiny fraction of all the fictional books that have been published over the last 10 years. Most of the books that have been published in fiction genres are long-forgotten. Only a handful are held over for multiple printings.

I’ll bet you believe you are different. You think that you have something the tens of thousands of writers who have come before you don’t have. You think that you see the world differently from everyone else, that you’re more skilled at telling stories, and that you have something special to offer. That’s fine. You’re entitled to think whatever you want.

But when you start shoving your manuscript in the faces of editors and literary agents and professional writers demanding that your work be considered for publication because you believe that you’re somehow entitled to do so… well, you’re nuts.

You may have written a novel, but it doesn’t make you special. Every year, thousands of people write novels 50,000 words long during the month of November for National Novel Writing Month. Most of them don’t feel entitled to be published. A lot of them know they’ve written complete garbage. The accomplishment is in crossing the finish line. Many shelve their drafts and move on to something else. They have no illusions of grandeur.

But you, oh aspiring writer, who may not have even finished one entire novel. You love to go on the Internet and into writer’s groups to talk about how wonderful your work is. You love to have long, late-night conversations about the craft of writing. You love to critique other published writers and explain why you are better. You read Writer’s Digest and attend writer’s workshops and keep an earmarked copy of Writer’s Market close at hand.

Here’s my advice to you: sit down, shut up, and just write. Not about writing, or about how wonderful you are, or what you intend to do with all the money you ‘ll make when someone finally realizes your genius. No. Write a novel. Then another. And another. And keep on doing that until you write something that is actually good; something that someone might actually want to read. Something an editor might actually want to publish.

And then, before you waste anyone’s time with it, spend ten times the amount of time that you spent writing the book actually revising it. If it took you one month to write the novel, you need to spend 10 months revising it. If it took you six months to write the novel, you need to spend five years revising it. I’m not talking about the calendar days it took you, of course, but the actual number of hours you spent writing. My rationale here is simple: you’re going to have to put some distance between yourself and your work. You’re going to need to snap out of the mindset of “I just wrote this” and into the mindset of “I need to fix this.” And you’re going to have to do that over and over and over until you have refined your piece of writing to be something that’s actually good. If you force yourself to repeat that process ten times, you’re going to quit if you create something that’s garbage… and you’re going to shape your ungainly rough draft into something a little more refined.

You can solicit the opinions of others, but don’t waste your time soliciting the opinions of other writers, particularly other amateurs. You’re just giving them an excuse not to be writing. Instead, solicit the opinions of readers – the more jaded they are, the better. Ask them where they got bored, or where they found their minds wandering. Ask them where they thought the novel could have been better. Don’t let them get off with saying, “it was good.” Tell them not to spare your feelings. Tell them to pretend they’ve just spent $10 on your book and you want to know if it was worth what they spent. Ask them how much they really thought it was worth. Ask multiple readers who read multiple genres. Don’t let one person’s assessment of your work be the be-all and end-all of your beliefs about its quality. Evaluate every critique you receive, and separate legitimate concerns from the personal tastes of individuals.

Stay away from writing about writing or reading about writing. Many writers make a successful occupation out of selling this stuff to others. Don’t fall prey to them. If you want to be a better writer, write. Vary your work, and write about anything that interests you. Stay away from being locked into a genre or a topic. Don’t worry about your pen name or what the cover of your book should look like. That’s something for professionals to worry about. You just keep your head down and get back to work.

If you have written a manuscript, and you think it’s ready for publication, you should not need to make any more revisions to it. If it comes back with requests for revisions, either it is not ready to be published, or the publishing world is not ready for it. At this point, you must decide — is it even worth revising? If the revisions involve changing the very nature of what you have written to suit another market, you should shelve that story and work on something else. Sell it later when you have found an audience.

If you ignore all of my advice here and insist on pushing on in your stubborn, obstinate way, then let me give you one final piece of advice: don’t send your work to me, because I don’t want to read it, even if you manage to get some other publisher to pick it up. I’ve got plenty of time-tested titles to read. And I’ve got plenty of my own projects to finish.

Thanks,

-Sean J. Jordan

[Open Letters] To: The Writers of NBC’s ‘The Office’

An unbelievable wedding... and I mean that in the negative, I assure you.

To: The Writers of NBC’s The Office
Re: Congratulations are in order!

Wow. I’m simply stunned. It’s a rare opportunity to see what you managed to achieve on television last night, and you managed to not only pull it off, but to do so with gusto. There I sat, watching in slack-jawed amazement, as the wedding episode of The Office danced across my television. And I mean that literally, by the way, because a good chunk of the show was devoted to the cast flailing around in a sad imitation of the Hollywood club scene. And yet even that was not the most excessive thing that happened in last night’s acme of awful episodes.

Did you mean to write a swansong for your series? That’s exactly what you accomplished. All of the excess, all of the indulgence, and all of the smarminess might have been acceptable for a final episode, where sentiments are meant to run high and comedy takes a back seat to tying up the plot. But no. This is only the fourth episode of the sixth season, and we’ll be back in The Office next week asking, “where do we go from here?” Chances are good that the answer is going to be awfully disappointing.

The episode began in the office, with a throwaway gag about Pam using her pregnancy to try to influence the behavior of others. The punchline was a chain-vomiting scene. I should have known then that this was not going to be one of the smart, edgy and human episodes I saw in the first and second seasons of your show, or even occasionally during the third. No. When you rely on bodily humor to get a cheap laugh, my own humors are aroused. Specifically, the bile in the back of my throat.

The episode then moved to the wedding, taking place for no particularly good reason in Niagra Falls. Yes, it’s been explained that the wedding was meant to be held there to prevent people in the office from coming. But you decided to write down a way for them all to be there anyway. Why go to all the trouble?  Were the cast and crew begging for a vacation to one of the tackiest tourist traps on Earth? That can’t be the case, because the only scenes involving the setting whatsoever involved Jim and Pam. The entire setting was wasted except for one painfully smarmy moment aboard a tour boat.

Do you understand what drama is? Do you understand that a few shaky camera shots of two characters getting secretly married on a boat just moments before their actual wedding is ridiculous? If you had spent episodes preparing us for a nightmare wedding where Pam had no control, and everyone else had edged her out to make it about them, then perhaps, just maybe, the scene would have made sense. But what sort of bride wants to spoil her wedding day by going under Niagra Falls, getting her dress and hair completely messed up, and then repeating a sham ceremony in a church? (Of course, Pam didn’t appear to have a wet dress or messed-up hair when she returned; it’s one of those details that showed this whole sequence hadn’t been thought out very well.)

And then Jim’s brothers and Pam’s bridesmaids decided to act out a Youtube video by having the entire cast dance down the aisle. The video is referenced several times, but never actually shown onscreen. There has never been a reference to it in the show before this, and the entire joke hinges on the audience being familiar with the reference. I have not seen the video for myself, and as far as I could tell, this entire scene was meant to replicate it, not parody it. That is not comedy. It’s not even entertainment. You’re getting paid to write a show that many people believe to be fresh and original. You’re very bold to steal someone else’s idea just because you think it’s funny for the cast to be awkwardly dancing onscreen. To do this without developing or serving the plot in any meaningful way is an even greater travesty.

You’ve also managed to work in a pregnancy arc this season, which is even more baffling. Countless comedies have been ruined by pregnancy arcs. The only comedy I can ever think of that successfully survived one was Malcolm In the Middle, and that was because that show did not view having children as a blessing, but as a trial to endure. It made sense for a baby to bring yet another layer of hardship into the lives of Hal and Lois.

What does Pam being pregnant have to do with anything? What is your end-game scenario here? Are you going to get all gooey and sentimental on us, as you did with the wedding episode? Are we going to have to put up with Pam being whiny and obnoxious and Jim having to balance work life and family life while Michael tries to insert himself into their relationship? The entire idea is just played out. I’m weary even writing it.

I don’t think you writers understand why people started watching this show in the first place. Back in the first and second seasons, when the show was good, The Office was about the mundane, day-to-day life of a meaningless job. The show was very much in the pattern of the British original, and it managed to walk the fine line between making the characters funny and making them tragic. I would argue that one of the finest episodes was the Halloween episode, where Michael struggled with firing an employee because he really, truly did not want to be the bad guy. There was a humanity about him, then; a Peter Principle victim who just wanted to be one of the sales people, and who enjoyed the title, but not the responsibility, of his position. You could actually relate to him, then.

Look at Michael now. He’s a child and a buffoon — a character who most people dread seeing onscreen and who always predictably acts against his own best interests. He started to get a little of his humanity back briefly in the fifth season when he went off to start his own paper company, but you writers had to get carried away with that story arc and find an implausible way to bring him back so things could be more or less the same as before. You seem to think Michael Scott is the heart and soul of the show. He’s not. He gets too much screen time and isn’t entertaining. In short bursts, yes. But as the sympathetic character? That’s supposed to be Jim.

Ah, and Jim, how far you have fallen. Jim was likable in the first couple of seasons, much like Tim in the UK original. Jim was an underachiever who was stuck on a girl he couldn’t have. We can relate to that. When Jim moved on, he was successful. When he came back, things just couldn’t be. We sensed that they might always have to settle for being friends as they made other compromises in life.

And then, you writers had to mess it up by putting Jim and Pam together. The unrequited love between them was fulfilled, and the show suddenly got a lot less interesting. You teased us with maybe pulling them apart again — and you could have! — but then Pam made the safe choice and quit school and returned to Scranton, and to Jim, pretty much ruining any chance she really had of evolving into a more interesting character. You tried to compensate by focusing on Michael’s relationships, but who really wanted to see those played out? Who really wanted to see the smart, stable, independent woman in Jan turned in to a crazy control freak who eventually vanished off the show entirely?

For a show that is supposed to be a mockumentary, you have been very bad about keeping a strong level of continuity with side plots. Last night’s episode was a great example: Pam’s mother has appeared in the show before, and she was a friendly, likable character who was Pam’s best friend. Not only did the actress change for this episode, but so did the character. Pam’s new mother seems like a repressed WASP who was dumb enough to sleep with Michael despite being likely to know all of the terrible things Pam had told her about him. Pam’s father, too, seems to be different from how he’s been described before. There was no point in including either character; both simply brought attention to the lack of attention to the established “reality” of the show.

My final complaint has to do with Andy Bernard. The Office has always had a great ensemble cast, and Ed Helms as Andy seemed like a natural fit. But wow, has he been wasted. Here is a character who came in as a scheming “yes-man,” who could serve as an interesting foil to Dwight and who could stir up dissension in the office. Instead, he’s been used for a series of gags that I think are meant to be zany, but which come across as gratuitous. Andy used to be smart and interesting in his frat boy persona. Now, he’s just a hard-luck background character who endures pain and punishment for no good reason. Last night’s ill-advised scene with him somehow hemorrhaging his scrotum by doing the splits on top of his car keys was bizarre, unrealistic, and failed to serve the plot at all. Why would Pam have to drive him to the hospital? Why wouldn’t they call an ambulance? How could Andy have possibly been able to attend a wedding the next day? Are you really that weak of writers that you can’t think through these questions before you have a gag filmed, edited and included in the final cut of the episode?

I would like to close by encouraging you all to re-watch the British original and see how far you have deviated from the proven template you started with. Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant and brilliant writers, and they crafted a show that refused to indulge itself. When The Office ended its second series with Tim striking out with Dawn and David Brent getting fired, Gervais and Merchant took a huge risk, and they left the audience wanting more so badly that they had to put together an encore Christmas Special to tie up all the loose ends and bring some closure to the characters. Even then, Tim had a wonderful monologue about how his life would go on, and how we were just seeing a snapshot of his life. It was a stunning conclusion; a fictional character reminding us that the story would go on even if we weren’t able to watch it for ourselves.

Where is that sort of edge in the American version? It’s long since gone dull. I suggest you sharpen the plot by retooling the characters, avoiding the easy humor, and bringing Michael back down to Earth. The show can still be saved; Scrubs managed to make itself good again in its eighth season. But you’ve got to work at it. Otherwise, I expect we’ll see The Office on the chopping block in the next year or two when the ratings start to drop as more and more viewers tune out.

Speaking of which, I’ll be watching Community, which is one of the best comedies I’ve seen in years. I’m hoping 30 Rock can keep its edge this year, too. But I think I’ll be skipping The Office from now on. Parks and Recreation is getting better, but I’ll let you know now — it’s already pretty stale. I doubt you can save it in time.

Sincerely,

Sean J. Jordan

[Sound-off] Sony’s PS3 — This Decade’s Nintendo 64

A stripped-down PS3? No thanks.

I’m in the market for a Playstation 3 now that the prices are dropping, and I’ve sold off a lot of my old consoles (which I never use anymore anyhow) so I can buy one. More than once, I’ve been asked, “so, are you going to get the Slim?” (That is, for those who don’t know, the new, smaller, more energy-efficient model that Sony is replacing the old models with.)

But the thing is… the PS3 Slim is actually a lot LESS of a value than the earlier models. The original 60GB launch system (launched in 2006, at $600) had way more features than the current models do. It had four USB ports, a bunch of memory card readers, backwards compatibility with PS1 and PS2 games and the ability to install Linux on the system without needing any modifications. Pretty cool, right? But as the system has evolved, it’s lost two USB ports, lost its backwards compatibility, lost its memory card readers, and finally, with the Slim, lost its ability to run Linux. All of this has been in the name of cost-cutting, but the truth of the matter is that Sony is actually reducing features in order to re-tighten their control on their hardware. They wanted the PS3 to be the “home computer system”. Now, they’re back to marketing it as a game console.

And honestly, it’s a really peculiar situation, because it shows that Sony really doesn’t get marketing at all. Instead of adding features to later models, as pretty much any electronics manufacturer would, Sony has continued to strip down and limit the PS3. They’ve even stopped pushing the Blu-Ray capabilities in favor of pushing the fact that it plays games slightly better than the Xbox 360. Sony has basically regressed to being a competitor in an old category rather than trying to hold on to the new territory it was delving into. I think they’re going to recover now that they’ve priced the PS3 appropriately and started developing their games library, but I think the PS3 is always going to be remembered as a mediocre console, not as the powerhouse it should be.

Oddly enough, Sony’s probably is not too different from Nintendo’s problem in the late 1990s. Nintendo was riding a huge wave of success from the SNES, which is, for my money, the best home console system ever made. Sega had been nipping at their heels with the Sega Genesis and the upcoming Saturn, and Sony was getting ready to launch its PlayStation, which came out of a failed partnership between Sony and Nintendo that was supposed to result in a CD-ROM attachment for the SNES. CD-ROM wasn’t quite ready for prime time (the discs loaded slowly, and analog sticks needed for 3D games were still not a standard feature on controllers), so Nintendo decided to launch another cartridge-based system, first named the “Ultra 64,” and then later, the “Nintendo 64.”

I remember the first year the Nintendo 64 came out — it was a disaster. There were only about 12 games available, and all of them were garbage except for Super Mario 64. The N64 didn’t come with all the extras (games, 2 controllers, zappers, etc) that the older consoles had; it was just a system and a single controller. And that controller — the weird, trident-shaped design that never quite felt comfortable in your hand, with an analog stick that was easy to break, and four tiny yellow buttons that served little practical purpose — was one of the first things that was clearly wrong with the N64. Nintendo, in its zeal to be different, had done something weird and awkward. And what’s more, it set the stage for something that continues to be true of Nintendo consoles — third party games tended to be terrible on the N64. If you ask people which N64 games they liked or remembered, they’re bound to cite a game made by Nintendo or by Rare (who at the time was a partner of Nintendo).

Apparently, the console was very hard to program for due to limited storage and memory. 3D objects were easy for the system to render, but there was little memory available for textures. Full-motion video and voice clips took up too much space, making the system a poor choice for RPGs. The control scheme was not really appropriate for fighting games, and the system did 2D really badly. Essentially, the N64 was a victim of its own ambition; it was trying to be a 3D game console before 3D game consoles were ready for prime time. I’d still rate it as Nintendo’s weakest console system, despite the fact that it sold much better than the Gamecube. But the Gamecube was superior in every way, and the reason it didn’t do as well was because people were soured by the N64 and Nintendo’s stubborn refusal to give them the sorts of experiences they could get on the PS2 and Xbox. Nintendo had developed a “kiddie” image – its products were little more than toys in the eyes of gamers. And commercials like this one didn’t help to shed that:

So, I made the statement that Sony’s PS3 is very similar to the N64. But on the surface, that doesn’t appear to be correct. Sony launched a console that was far more powerful (and capable!) than the N64, and it geared itself towards older gamers, not younger ones. Sony lacks the power of Nintendo for making first-party games, but it has some great third-party support. The controllers are comfortable and standard, and the system itself is pretty impressive, even in its stripped-down state. So how, you might wonder, can I draw a comparison?

It’s all in the marketing. Both Sony and Nintendo were riding the wave of two very successful consoles, and both decided that it was time to focus on the product, not the customer. Nintendo did it by launching a system that underperformed at traditional console functions and that didn’t do its new functions very well. Sony did it by launching a system that was intended to be used as something other than a console and then saying, nonchalantly, “oh, it plays games, too.” Both Nintendo and Sony supported their systems with ridiculous marketing strategies that tried to communicate technology over functionality, and both launched their consoles expecting people to buy on brand name alone.

The Nintendo 64 is actually remembered as a better system than it was because Nintendo was able to support it with some great games down the road. That helped to take the sting out somewhat to those who’d bought the system hoping for the same level of fun they’d enjoyed with the SNES. I’m actually not sure if Sony is going to be able to pull that off with the PS3; Sony’s never been good at first-party software, and most of its best first-party titles have been aimed at a specific niche. I’m guessing what takes the sting out of the PS3 is its ability to play Blu-Ray and its free online service… but I’m not sure that these features are as useful to the majority of gamers as Sony seems to think.

So, we’re left with a console cycle where Sony is going to take a bath. The early adopters have the system; the lower price point means that the early majority will start picking the system up. But they’re going to be disappointed when they realize they’ve got a system that’s not as good as the one they could have bought a few years back, and they’re going to find that the Xbox 360 actually has the better software library right now. The only way Sony is going to be able to turn this into a victory is if they can communicate the cool of the PS3 — and though Sony’s very good at being “cool,” I think they’ve given up too much ground this generation. If Microsoft’s third Xbox or Nintendo’s next console are in any way impressive, it’s likely that Sony’s going to really get hurt in the next cycle of consoles (which should begin in 2011 or 2012).

How did Nintendo come back? By re-inventing itself and focusing on The Marketing Concept with the Wii. They’ve been wildly successful because they figured out how to talk to gamers again and deliver what casual gamers wanted. Sony’s going to have to go through its own reinvention. I wish them luck.

[Movie Reviews] – District 9

'District 9', directed by Neill Blomkamp and produced by Peter Jackson

I finally made it out to see District 9, which will probably be called the sleeper hit of this summer down the road when the DVD marketing begins. I’m certainly glad to see it doing well – I expected it to be a good film that no one saw, but fortunately, the marketing campaign for the film was really excellent, so awareness was high.

My friend Katie asked me to write up a review of the film, because she’s really eager to discuss it. After all, District 9 is a movie about ideas. It’s an allegory for apartheid and the formation of ghettos. It’s a movie that asks some serious questions by cloaking them in science fiction trappings. And there is plenty to talk about.

With that said, I need to divide this review into two sections: a review of the film as allegory, and a review of the film as science fiction. District 9 is a film that tries to ride two horses at once, and while I believe it is ultimately successful as a film and deserving of the positive criticism it has received, I also think that it is much more about the adrenaline rush than it is about telling a well-crafted story.

The Basic Plot (without any major spoilers)

The premise of District 9 is pretty simple: an alien spaceship comes to a stop over the city of Johannesburg in South Africa in the 1980s. Humans gain entry into the ship and find the aliens inside in deplorable conditions, malnourished and wallowing in excrement. The aliens are taken down to a temporary holding area called “District 9,” and brought back to health.

More than twenty years later, the aliens are still living in District 9, and it’s become a deplorable slum full of shanties built out of refuse. The aliens do not assimilate well with the humans, and are nicknamed “prawns” – a derogatory term meant to compare them to bottom-feeders. Banned from most public places, the aliens are forced to rely on an organization called the MNU for assistance… or to buy things from the Nigerian underworld.

Since the aliens have a particular taste for cat food that borders on addiction, they are able to be manipulated into giving away most of their weapons and technology. The aliens see this as a useful trade, because their weapons can’t be used by the humans. The humans, in the meantime, grow obsessed with finding ways to graft alien biology onto human hosts so they can put the technology to use.

The film centers around a man named Wikus van de Merwe who is put in charge of relocating the aliens to District 10 – an area outside of civilization where tents have been set up, not unlike a concentration camp. Wikus is not compassionate, is extremely self-centered and foolish. Apparently, his last name is a symbol of his stupidity; in South Africa, “van de Merwe” jokes revolve around a character who always does dumb things or who has bad things happen to him. There’s more than a little cultural reference in this film that requires knowledge of South African history to fully appreciate.

Wikus crosses path with an alien who seems a little smarter than the others who is officially named “Christopher Johnson” by the MNU. Christopher and his son have been gathering a strange liquid from discarded alien devices, and just as they find enough to achieve some unspoken goal, Wikus strides in, fiddles with the device, and accidentally sprays himself in the face with it. The liquid has a profound effect on his biology, and he finds himself slowly becoming an alien over the next several days, starting with his hand. As events unfold, Wikus finds himself on the run from the MNU and growing more sympathetic to the aliens and helping Christopher get back to the mothership hanging above the city, though Wikus remains self-centered and stupid through most of the film.

From this point forward, I’m going to discuss plot details of the film that will enter into the realm of spoiler territory. So, if you haven’t seen the film, go see it, and then come back to read the rest.

District 9 as Allegory

I would argue that District 9’s primary purpose is to serve as an allegory for human relations. Even though it’s cloaked in sci-fi, District 9 is really a story about how people treat other people who are different. It takes place in Johannesburg, a place where apartheid happened in a very similar fashion to what’s depicted here in the film. There is some irony that both white and black people are united against the aliens in this story, neither seeing any parallels to their own history.

The aliens are difficult for the humans to sympathize with, because the humans are focused on the aliens’ appearance and customs, and not on the point that the aliens and humans have in common. Humans don’t feel bad about discriminating against the aliens; in fact, many seem to view them as lower life forms, despite their advanced technology. The aliens are not actually that different from the humans in terms of their basic needs and desires, but they are different enough that they can be discriminated against without fear.

The aliens also represent a group of people who were once powerful, but who have been made powerless by becoming reliant on modern society. Aliens who become violent or who refuse to follow the rules are shot and killed without question. Sometimes, they’re shot out of fear. Sometimes, they’re shot out of sheer cruelty.

Christopher Johnson seems to be a leader of the group, and he’s the alien who can pilot the control pod for the mothership, though this does not become clear until later on in the film. His given name is very important – in literature, it’s common for messianic characters to have the initials “J” and “C.” Christopher Johnson is not a dead ringer for Jesus Christ, but he does depart so he can return as the savior of his people, and the question of his judgment of the humans is left unresolved at the end. I’d be willing to guess a lot of people missed this point, but it’s very important in understanding the message of the film.

Wikus represents humanity itself, and his progression from being human to alien-human hybrid to entirely alien is meant to show that the only way we can truly become compassionate of those we oppress is to be like them. Even in his hybrid state, Wikus makes decisions that result in hurting those he’s trying to help. Even at the end of the film, Wikus longs to be human again so he can return to his wife and his comfortable life. He is a tragic figure in that he never seems to learn anything; he is forced to learn based on circumstance, not growth. As such, Wikus is a troubling character, because he represents a cynical view of humanity. To call him the film’s hero would be far too charitable; even in his semi-heroic actions towards the end, Wikus is not trying to defend an oppressed people, but resigning himself to the fact that his only chance to being made human again rests in the hands of Christopher Johnson.

And so, we get to the message of the film, which is very simple: “We despise that which is different from us, and we can only outgrow our disgust by becoming like that which we dislike.” I’d say that’s a fairly bleak, yet insightful, view of humanity. The idea that an alien might live among us, leave us, and return in judgment simply reinforces this concept; “So be good to each other, or else.”

District 9 as Science Fiction

District 9 is not nearly as strong of a science fiction film as it is an allegory. The problem is that this is not a story; it’s a conceit. Science fiction has always been plagued by conceits, and they tend to result in weak storytelling. A good example of a conceit would be a story where a character does some odd things and sees the world in an odd way, and the story ends with, “because, you see, I was the dog!”. That’s a conceit.

District 9 is similarly a conceit. The idea is, “let’s take apartheid and do it with aliens.” There’s no rhyme or reason to this, and the explanations given in the film are pretty filmsy. Aliens would be a curiosity to people on Earth; they would be welcomed to other places and given special treatment. If aliens had advanced technology only they could use, they would be compensated with food or water or whatever they needed in exchange for using it. I seriously doubt defense contractors would spend so much time and effort oppressing aliens when they could be hiring them as mercenaries.

No, the film forces the idea of the “loathsome alien” into the plot so that the story can happen. The humans don’t like the aliens, but there are few explanations why. The aliens don’t want to leave Johannesburg, despite their conditions, but again, there’s no explanation why. The aliens understand human English perfectly, and even pick up on idioms and figures of speech. The humans similarly understand the aliens. In the real world, humans often can’t even understand each other when speaking different languages. None of this is remotely logical, and again, there’s no explanation why.

The aliens have advanced technology, and they’re quite capable of annihilating the humans. Instead, they foolishly sell their weapons off for cat food (which is the equivalent of drugs to them). The aliens are quite strong, and capable of killing humans with a single blow. And yet they let themselves get pushed around by a handful of Nigerians armed with guns. The aliens aren’t afraid of humans – look how many get killed in the first half hour of the film doing stupid, aggressive things! The film never really develops the reasons why the aliens are so compliant, nor does it make any logical sense for them to behave the way they do.

There are many other nagging details as well. Why does alien ship fuel turn humans into aliens? Why haven’t other humans, who have surely studied the stuff, noticed the change? Why do the aliens behave so much like humans, erecting shanties and filling their homes with trash? Why don’t the aliens seem to have a culture of their own, or a religion, or a reverence for their own technology? Why aren’t some of the aliens rising up as community representatives to work with the MNU? Why don’t other nations of the world intervene to offer the aliens a nicer place to live? Why in the world are aliens having sex with human prostitutes? (This seemed like one of the most gratuitous details in the film to me.)

As science fiction, the film never answers these questions – and perhaps can’t answer these questions. It’s a testament to how well-made the film is that you don’t ask them while it’s running. I didn’t start thinking about them until a few hours later. But these questions are troubling, and no amount of apologizing by the fans is going to resolve them. The problem is that the story is meant to be an allegory, not a true work of science fiction, and the sci-fi elements included are a conceit as a result.

If ever a film required another hour on an extended DVD to fill in the plot holes, District 9 is it.

Conclusion

I liked District 9, and I think it’s a worthwhile film. It’s got some depth, and it makes use of aliens to look at race relations in a new way. It’s certainly worth checking out at some point, though I am not sure I’d argue that it’s imperative to see it in the theater.

But would I say it’s a new direction for science fiction? Honestly, no. Science fiction has always been about exploring social issues through unusual means, but in order for it to rise about the level of allegory, it’s got to offer enough explanation that it doesn’t leave the audience wondering at all the loose threads. District 9 appears to be hard sci-fi at first glance, but it’s as soft as Star Wars in the end. And that’s fine, really, because Star Wars is a great film that is also built around a conceit – the idea of presenting a modern myth with sci-fi trappings. But I hope that District 9, like Star Wars and The Matrix and other films before it, does more to influence the visual style of science fiction storytelling and not the story style.

[Sound Off] Why Dumb Works

'G.I. JOE: The Rise of Cobra', directed by Stephen Sommers

I have a number of friends, both online and in local circles, who have said they’re going to see G.I. JOE: The Rise of Cobra this weekend. I don’t think any of them expects the film to be good. Quite the contrary — they expect it to be a big, dumb movie with characters inspired by action figures and stuff blowing up left and right. They’re OK with it being otherwise insipid. At the same time, I have few friends who want to go see the sci-fi think piece District 9 with me next week. It looks like too much thinking, I suppose. As one friend put it, “Summer movies are about turning off your brain for two hours and watching the fireworks.”

As a creative person, I used to get really upset and annoyed about how big, dumb action movies could do so well while legitimately good movies that actually had something to say could be missed by so much of the population. One classic example that should be familiar is The Shawshank Redemption, a movie that did terribly in the theaters, but which caught on when it reached the home video stage because word got out that it was actually good. Sadly, that doesn’t happen very often, and a lot of great films (and books, and video games, and various other forms of media) get ignored simply because they’re not big enough or dumb enough for the rest of the population.

Some might point to the arguments of the book The Long Tail and suggest that big, dumb films are designed for the masses, while good films are designed for a smaller niche of an audience. That argument sounds appealing, but I don’t think it’s the case. Art, even commercial art, tends to reflect the culture that it’s in. And in the case of big budget cinema, I’ve come to realize that the big, dumb movies (and other media) do well precisely because they’re big and dumb.

“Hold on… are you saying American audiences are dumb?” you might be asking.

That depends on how you define dumb. If you’re talking about dumb being a function of physical intelligence, then no. But if you’re talking about dumb being a function of willfull ignorance and a refusal to think beyond one’s basic desires and day-to-day activities, then yes. I think Americans are very dumb. More precisely, I think our media reflects how dumb we really are. And when I say “we”, I’m including myself, because I certainly don’t claim to be immune to this tendency myself… though I think I do get some credit for having avoided this summer’s blockbusters. (My low grad student income and the rising price of movies has something to do with that, too, incidentally.)

So, let’s go back to G.I. Joe. What’s the appeal? I’m going to argue that the audience knows, going in, that the film is not going to be intellectual or challenging to them in any way. They know it’s not going to change their lives, and that they’re going to talk with others about how bad the film was, not how good it was. They know they’re in for a special effects spectacle, not an involved piece of cinema. They know if they get up and go to the bathroom, they’re not going to miss anything big.

On the positive side, they’re going to have some social credibility for having seen the film. They’ll be able to say, “Yeah, I went and saw it, and it wasn’t as bad as I expected,” and others will listen. Some might have seen it themselves and will discuss it with them. There’s definitely some benefit there.

On the negative side, they’re going to be out the price of a movie and two hours of time. They might not be as entertained as they would be if they saw a film that was good and a spectacle (such as last summer’s Iron Man, the first two Terminator films, the first two Star Wars films, the first Die Hard and Predator films, the first two Spider-Man films, or the first two X-Men films), but they’re not going to feel like they missed out on anything. After all, even if the film was stupid, they got some value out of it.

Now, let’s consider a movie that’s slightly more cerebral, but still a blockbuster. I’m going to point to Pixar’s Up, which is a fantastic film and an artistic triumph from a critical perspective, but which I’ve heard several friends describe as boring. The only parts they really liked or remember were the scenes with the talking dogs. When I point out that Pixar managed to make a film where an old man’s memories were a character, where the kid is not smarter than the adult, where the theme is overcoming loneliness by making human connections, or where the adventure is about the growth of an old man so that he can be human again, they stare at me blankly. They tell me I read into things too much. Some tell me that animated films like Over the Hedge and Madagascar were more entertaining to them. (I found both to be stupid and preachy.)

On the other hand, last summer’s The Dark Knight Returns, a film I found rather bright but tedious, also got mixed reactions from some of my friends. Those who tend to stick to dumb movies were struck by how intelligent the plot was. Most thought it was one of the smartest movies they’d ever seen (though they couldn’t articulate to me why it was smart). A few were bewildered by it. My friends who tend to watch more intelligent films, on the other hand, tended to feel the way I did.  We didn’t think that the movie was bad per se… we just felt it wasn’t quite the think piece others made it out to be.

Mike Judge's 'Idiocracy' describes a future in which dumb is the status quo.

Reflecting on reactions to these films in light of my argument today, however, I’m starting to realize that this desire people have to be “entertained” without having to think too much is what is driving a lot of our media. We really don’t want to go to the movies, or flip on the TV, or load up a video game, or read a book and find ourselves having to think too hard.  We have this perception that we should only have to think when we’re really interested in something or being paid to do so. But when we engage art of any sort, we want to get it immediately. We don’t want to have to think about things, or digest them, or discuss them in terms of ourselves.

Now that I’ve realized this, though, the question for me, as a creative person, is what to do next. I’m not going to change the tastes of Americans, no matter how much I try. I’ll die a bitter, frustrated man if I attempt to do it. At the same time, I’m really not capable of creating dumb stuff on purpose. I can create dumb stuff by accident, no problem. But the sort of willful dumb that guys like Michael Bay and Stephen Sommers can put into their films… that I can’t do.

I don’t know. What do you guys think? Am I reading this wrong… or have I just found an explanation for why good movies shouldn’t expect to do well unless they are also based off a children’s toy and have a sufficient number of explosions and objectified women? Are we really that close to Idiocracy already?

A Winner is Me!

So, Boing Boing Gadgets recently held a “Gadget Fiction” contest where you were supposed to write a flash fiction story somehow pertaining to gadgets. Flash fiction is, for those who don’t know, generally around 1,000 words in length and designed to evoke a feeling rather than tell a complex story.

So, anyhow, I entered, and I won third place. For my efforts, I get a free copy of the game “Tetris Cube”! Plus, people who haven’t read my work before might see it and think better of me. That’s always a nice feeling.

I’m really stoked. Of course, I didn’t expect to win a thing — there were some really good writers competing. But it’s always nice to gain a little bit of recognition for doing something well!

Here’s a link to the story, as well as the others. Check it out!

[Sound Off] Why 3D Movies Are Limited

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

My wife and I went to see the new Harry Potter film last night. We’re a little late to the game, sure, but that’s because we waited for the IMAX version, which featured the film on a nice big screen with superior sound and rockin’ 3D!

…well, sort of. There’s a big difference between movie theater IMAX and the big, 4-story IMAX you might see at a tourist attraction. It’s still an impressive picture, but it’s not THAT much better than a digital theater. And the 3D? We were more impressed by the trailer for the 3D animated A Christmas Carol than we were with the measly 12 minutes of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince that were in 3D. Those minutes were at the beginning (one of the least impressive parts of the film) and didn’t work out so well.

Oddly enough, we’d gone with my mom the weekend before to see G-Force, a harmless family movie that plays out like someone took a generic spy movie script, tweaked the main characters to be guniea pigs, and cranked out a film. Say what you will about the plot, but the 3D was very nice, and very immersive. We also saw Pixar’s Up in 3D earlier this summer and were similarly impressed.

Harry Potter, on the other hand, was pretty dull in 3D. We got a few minutes of action at the beginning, but it was nothing special. We also got to see Harry sitting in a diner reading a newspaper and searching through an old house with his wand. Yawn. The scenes weren’t really made for 3D, so I won’t blame the filmmakers; it was just a gimmick to get people to check out the IMAX version. We were a lot more impressed with the IMAX 3D in the previous film, Hary Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which was at the end of the movie and which featured spells flying around and glass breaking. That made for some entertaining 3D action.

What this has helped me realize is that 3D filmmaking has some major limitations. You just can’t shoot a 3D film the same way you shoot an action film. Quick cuts, oblique angles, confusing rotations and other staples of action filmmaking are disorienting in 3D, and they actually remove the viewer from the immersive feeling of watching a film. You really have to focus on straightforward action, and you have to find ways to make things pop out at the audience and excite them a little bit. A film like G-Force, despite its faults, was well-made for 3D, because it had constant action, cartoonish characters, and interesting gadgets. Up really popped on the screen because it had a lot of depth in its animated world (the balloons carrying the house, for example, had a nice three-dimensionality about them due to their round shape), and its action was slow enough that you could be stunned by the big moments.

3D is the way a lot of big-budget films are going, but I have a feeling that until action filmmakers figure it out, it’s going to be used primarily for kid’s movies and animation. One reason for this is that it’s easier for the filmmakers to create these films in 3D (due to the complicated cameras that have to be used to film live-action shots in 3D). Another reason is that kids’ films don’t move as fast and aren’t trying to be as edgy and cool as the summer blockbusters are. They lend themselves better to 3D’s strengths.

Unfortunately, the techniques used for modern action films are designed to look good on a 2D screen, so I have a feeling a lot of these 3D films are going to lose their “oomph” when they’re being viewed as home videos. I wonder how long it’s going to take for 3D to be something you can easily watch at home? I give it 5 years.

Oh, and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince? I’m not going to waste my time giving it a review, so suffice it to say that I thought it was the weakest and least magical of the films so far. If I hadn’t read the book, I think I would have been pretty lost about the plot, and the film was so focused on teenage silliness that it really lost its ability to focus on the deeper, darker themes that showed up in the book. Granted, Rowling didn’t develop those themes very well either, but they were present, and the film really missed an opportunity to tell a compelling story. But let’s be honest — people don’t go to see the Harry Potter films for the story. They go to see the book acted out. I’m really dreading the seventh film, which is the first half of the worst book in the series. But, my wife’s a fan, so I’ll have to go.

[Sound Off] Why Bad Movies Are Successful In Spite of the Critics

Critics hate "Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen." But the public loves it. Why is there a disconnect?

I was recently participating in a discussion on Fark.com about why films like Transformers 2 and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince can be box-office successes despite their lack of critical support. Many critics have been posting up commentaries on how sad it is that Americans don’t listen to critics anymore, and how we’re going to get a continued glut of bad movies every summer because movegoers are so “gee whiz wow” amazed at things blowing up and aren’t interested in films that are actually, well, good.

I thought about this disconnect for awhile, and it occurred to me that there’s a good reason that moviegoers aren’t listening to the critics. There was a time when critics offered a valuable service to people who went to the movies as a form of weekly entertainment. But things have changed; movie viewing has evolved, while critics have not. And many changes have occurred over the last decade or so to create the disconnect we’re seeing now.

Filmgoers don’t watch a lot of movies in the theater
Movie theaters are increasingly empty, and with good reason — the novelty of the experience has been offset by some very annoying trends. Ticket prices are high. Concessions are ridiculously overpriced. Films are preceded by noisy commercials for youth-oriented products. Parents tend to treat theaters as surrogate babysitters for their tween- and early teen-aged children. Said tweens and teens disrupt the films by talking loudly, texting, and moving around mid-feature. Other audience members are rude, too, coming in late, coughing loudly, or laughing inappropriately. Some theaters have regular problems with sound and picture quality. Some are too cold. Others are like furnaces. The list goes on.

It costs my wife and I around $20 to go to the theater. (We sneak in our own sodas and candy because, well, we just don’t feel bad about not paying for grossly overpriced concessions.) For a family of 4, that’s going to be $35-40. That’s an awful lot of money to spend for two hours of entertainment, especially when you can get the DVD from a Red Box for $1 if you’re willing to wait… but we’ll tackle that point in a moment.

And what do you get for your money? Generally, a film that isn’t that much better on the big screen than it is at home. So you don’t got to the movies for the quality of the film — you go for the spectacle. It’s much more fun to see special effects films on the big screen. This has been true for several years, and it’s going to be even more obvious as more 3D films are released. If you’re going to assault your senses with loud sound and giant imagery, you want to do it with something fantastic and colorful, like an action film or an animated feature. If you’ve got a family, it’s got to be something everyone’s going to enjoy. Like it or not, those stupid action films and dumb animated kid’s films are the most likely to appeal to the entire family.

Filmgoers watch “Good” movies on home systems
Home systems have really come a long way in the last ten years, and it’s possible now to get a beautiful setup for a few thousand dollars. It used to be a big investment, but HD TV has become common enough now that most families have one of a pretty reasonable size. HD TV and DVD players have really helped home systems gain a lot of ground in generating the “authentic” movie experience. You can buy a DVD for the price of one or two movie tickets, and you can rent them for a dollar from the Red Box or on an inexpensive plan through a service like Netflix.

And thus, families often reserve the watching of “good” movies for their home systems, where they can cheaply and conveniently watch two or three films in an evening, with the ability to stop in the middle for a bathroom or snack break, to rewind if something important is missed, or to fast forward if a film is getting too boring. It’s a much more intimate and fun way to watch a movie, and it’s a lot cheaper, too. And, since it’s so much easier than going to the theater, families have the option to watch a lot of movies they wouldn’t normally view, or which might be too boring for a family outing, but interesting to one or two members of the family.

Filmgoers are influenced by social pressures and marketing
Often, I go to the movies not because I want to, but because someone else wants to. Sometimes, that results in my seeing a film I’m not particularly interested in seeing. There’s a huge social element to moviegoing (which is ironic, given the fact that you sit there quietly and don’t talk during the film), and it plays a big role in ticket sales. For many people, going to the movies is just something to do with their friends, families or dates; it’s not a big deal to them.

There’s also an element of marketing at play. Big movies are often heavily marketed, and even if they’re not good, people will go see them simply because they’ve heard of them. You see this a lot during the first few months of the year, when fairly bad films are released, but have fairly big openings simply because they’ve been marketed properly. The critics hate them, but it doesn’t matter; the marketing messages are much more appealing to the target audiences than anything the critics have to say, and besides — these films are usually released when there’s very little else to watch. And again, it’s something to do — moviegoers are more concerned about the experience than the content.

Now that we’ve looked at how movivegoers have changed, let’s look at the critics.

Critics see everything, and that’s not a good thing.
Critics are generally paid to watch all of the films that are released in a given week, not just one or two. They’re given special screenings of these films, sometimes in advance, and they can come into a film in a bad mood because they just saw a really good film right before it. They are prone to bias, and they often prefer certain genres of film over others.

I used to watch Siskel & Ebert and found that Gene Siskel’s tastes were much more in line with my own than Roger Ebert’s. I like Roger Ebert, and I think he’s a fantastic writer and film critic. But I only agree with his opinions about half of the time. And that tends to be the problem when you evaluate any critic who is reviewing a film outside his or her preferred genre; you might only watch horror films, but they’ve seen everything, and they’re going to compare your favorite genre to other films in general when they rate, and not to other films in the genre.

I knew a film reviewer for my college paper back in the late 1990s who saw Bride of Chucky and gave it a positive review. He was clearly not a professional critic, because his opinion was far outside the critical mainstream. But was his opinion any less valid? Certainly not. He just hadn’t been required to see every other film that week. And he happened to like bad films because he found them ironic.

Critics are often educated about cinema, while the public is not.
This is probably one of the biggest areas of disconnect. Critics often talk about producers, directors, cinematographers, screenwriters, and other creative people from behind the camera when they review films. They talk about storytelling structure, photographic techniques, and mise en scene. This is of litle value to the average filmgoer, who doesn’t know much about any of these elements. A film critic can appreciate the clever subtlety of an art film, because he or she knows enough about cinema to be in on the mechanics of filmmaking. The public will miss it entirely, because the public does not know how to appreciate cinema as an art form. As is true with most creative media, the public is more likely to search for personal meaning in a film than to try to understand what the creative team was trying to say.

Critics just don’t seem to get this. They’ve forgotten what it’s like to be bewildered.

Critics don’t understand marketing
Good critics tend to insulate themselves from the hype. Roger Ebert, for example, refuses to watch film trailers. That’s a good practice. It keeps one objective.

But the public is constantly being bombarded with advertising messages and hype. These things shape their opinions and make big films sound more interesting to them. Did most people really enjoy Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End? I don’t think so. It was a nonsensical mess. But that film was so heavily marketed, Johnny Depp was an attraction, and the Keith Richards appearance so heavily discussed, that people flocked to it anyhow because it was familiar and sounded fun. Their opinions of the film were already shaped by marketing and by past experience.

Critics miss all of this. They often have disdain for the marketing, and complain that it tarnishes the films by making messages out of catchphrases. When they insulate themselves from it, they misunderstand why people are going to see films. And when they criticize it, they essentially tell the public that they are stupid for buying into the hype. And that, unfortunately, creates yet another disconnect, causing the public to believe that critics are not respectful of those who aren’t just like them.

So, simply put, critics do not watch films like the average person does; they watch films like critics do. That’s what’s causing this disconnect, and that’s what’s making critics irrelevant. Sadly, critics do serve an important function in helping to guide and shape the aesthetics of the audience so that people can properly digest what they’ve seen. But with critics so focused on consumer reviews, they’re really missing an opportunity to elevate the discourse… and instead simply alienating the people they believe they’re writing for.

[Book Reviews] – ‘The Chronicles of Prydain’ by Lloyd Alexander

'The Book of Three' by Lloyd Alexander

When I was younger, Disney released an animated film called The Black Cauldron. As Disney films go, it wasn’t the greatest — I remember being more excited about my adventures with the computer game than with the film itself.

A couple of years later, I ran across a copy of the novel The Black Cauldron at my library, and had a hard time reading it since it was so different from the film. I kept expecting things to happen like they had in the movie, but the book was so different that I gave up on it. I felt like I’d missed out on part of the story, too — the book had a movie cover and gave no indication that it was part of a larger series.

When I was a little older, I found out that The Black Cauldron was actually part two of five. And so I picked up The Book of Three (which, as it happens, formed the basis for most of the plot of the film) and found myself drawn into Lloyd Alexander’s fantasy world of Prydain.

The Book of Three is about a boy named Taran who lives on a farm with the old scholar Dallben and the farmer Coll. Taran longs to be a hero, and as he hears the stories about the Death-Lord Arawn and the war leader known as the Horned King, he daydreams about leaving the farm in search of adventure. Coll gives Taran the title of “Assistant Pig Keeper,” since Taran’s job is to help care for Hen Wen, a prophetic pig. It’s meant to be a joke, but as the story progresses, the title becomes much more important.

Something upsets the animals, and Hen Wen escapes. Taran goes chasing after her and loses her in the forest. He runs smack into the army of the Horned King and is wounded. A heroic prince named Gwydion finds him and tends to his wound, and the two go out looking for Hen Wen. They meet a hairy little creature named Gurgi (who isn’t quite a man, but isn’t quite a dog, either) and discover that the Horned King is after Hen Wen. Gwydion and Taran have a frightening encounter with undead warriors called the “Cauldron born”, and they are wounded and imprisoned in the Spiral Castle. There, they meet Princess Eilonwy and the two resolve to escape. Taran persuades her to free Gwydion from the dungeon as well, but since he is not specific about who his friend is, she frees a bard named Fflewddur Fflam instead. The castle collapses due to an enchantment being broken by a magical sword Eilonwy had pilfered, and the characters believe that Gwydion has died.

Taran decides that he must warn Gwydion’s kingdom about the Horned King, and the three set off with Gurgi in tow. They realize they’re being followed by Cauldron-born, and are driven off course. Several adventures ensue before they find Hen Wen and the Horned King’s army. Taran challenges the Horned King to combat, and the evil adversary smashes his sword with a single blow. Taran grabs the magical sword from Eilonwy and is barely able to budge it from its scabbard because of its great power. Just pulling the blade out slightly causes lightning to shoot out and burn him. Taran blacks out as Gwydion emerges, uttering a weird word. The Horned King bursts into flame. It turns out that the only thing that could destroy him was hearing his secret name.

Gwydion explains the series of events that allowed him to survive, as well as to learn to speak to the hearts of all living creatures. He gives each of the companions gifts; Taran forgoes his own and just asks to be taken home, where he can be an Assistant Pig-Keeper in peace. Eilonwy and Gurgi go with him, since they have nowhere else to go.

That’s an awful lot of adventure for a single book, and there are four other books in the series: The Black Cauldron, The Castle of Llyr, Taran Wanderer and The High King. All of these are reimaginings of Welsh mythology, and they take place in a world where humans have had all of their special skills and tools taken from them so that they have to toil at anything they do. The Death Lord Arawn is the source of evil, and until he is killed by Taran in the last book, he commands the Cauldron-born,  a vast legion of undead soldiers made up of the dead warriors of Prydain’s past.

So, what makes these books worth reading? First of all, they’re funny. Alexander managed to work a lot of humor into these books, from the bizarre antics to Gurgi to the lying tendencies of Fflewddur Fflam to the emotional outbursts of Eilonwy to the designation of Taran as the “Assistant Pig-Keeper.” Things get very dark and serious at points, but there’s usually a light touch somewhere to brighten the mood.

Second, they’re well-written. Alexander wrote these books for children, but he didn’t dumb them down at all. He uses complicated names and complex stories, and he isn’t afraid to allow some of the characters (like Arawn and Gwydion) to personify good and evil. He also skillfully weaves in characters like Gurgi, who are humorous and melodramatic, but who play an important role in the growth and development of Taran.

Third, they’re epic. But unlike other fantasy epics, these books are not about one giant quest to destroy evil and make the world right again. Rather, they’re about the growth and development of Taran and Eilonwy as they mature from youths into adults. The fourth book, Taran Wanderer is both tedious and fascinating in its lack of action and insistence on Taran’s growth as a character. He really transforms from being a boy to a man ready to become a hero, and it’s fun to watch because you’re already so invested in the character.

Overall, I’d highly recommend this series. It’s easy to read, it’s a lot of fun, and it’s much, much better and deeper than the Disney film would lead you to believe.

Sean recommends: Start with The Book of Three, and if you like it, read the rest. As good as the first book is, the last two are the high points of the series.

[Book Reviews] – ‘The Neverending Story’ by Michael Ende

"The Neverending Story" by Michael Ende

When I was growing up in the 1980s, fantasy was a pretty mainstream genre. I remember watching the animated adaptations of Tolkien, playing with He-Man toys and seeing films like The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride and The Black Cauldron. But one of the most interesting films of the era came out in 1984, and it had a very interesting title — The Neverending Story.

The film was actually an adaptation of the first half of a 1979 German novel by Michael Ende. I didn’t read the book until I was a little bit older, and the edition I got was different from the one I own today. The library edition I initially read had text in green when it took place in the fantasy world and red when it took place in our world. It also had illustrations on the cover and inside the book that were not derived from the film, and thus very different in conceptualization. I bring this up because the film is likely to be familiar to people, while the book is not. And while the film is a good adaptation of part of the novel, it really misses the point of what Ende was trying to say.

The plot is very interesting. Bastian Balthazzar Bux is a young boy whose mother has died and whose father neglects him. One day, he hides from some bullies in a bookstore owned by a man named Carl Conrad Correander, who is reading a book called The Neverending Story. Bastian steals it when Correander isn’t looking, and takes it up to the attic of his school so he can play hookey and read. He finds himself immersed in a story about a place called Fantastica that is facing a crisis, and the story frequently cuts back to show his reaction to different elements. But as he reads, he finds himself being drawn deeper and deeper into the tale until he realizes that he has become a part of it.

The story Bastian is reading concerns a young warrior named Atreyu who is sent on a quest to find a cure for Fantastica’s “Childlike Empress,” a benevolent ruler who has fallen ill as a plague called “The Nothing” sweeps across the land. Atreyu is guided by an amulet called AURYN, which has two snakes wrapped into a coil, the one eating the other’s tail, like an ourobouros. This amulet represents all of the power and wisdom of the Childlike Empress, and gives Atreyu the strength he needs to complete the quest.

Eventually, Atreyu rescues a luckdragon named Falkor, and the two travel together before finding out that the only thing that can save the Childlike Empress is a human child. They rush back to the Ivory Tower, and she reveals that she needs the human child to give her a name. Bastian feels he has a talent for naming things, and shouts out that her name is “Moonchild.” With that, he is pulled into the world of Fantastica and discovers that the “Nothing” is the result of humans giving up on fantasy. Bastian is given the power of AURYN so that he can wander around the realm of Fantastica and rebuild it with his imagination.

This is where the story really diverges from the films, and though The Neverending Story II tried to tell this second half, it did it so clumsily, and excluded so many important scenes, that Bastian seemed like a pawn in a political battle instead of a victim of his own arrogance. What happens in the novel is that Bastian goes out and has many adventures, using AURYN to grant any wish that comes to mind. Bastian eventually defeats an evil witch named Xayide and makes her his servant, but she eventually turns things around and starts to manipulate him so she can regain her power. Bastian and Atreyu become friends, but Atreyu becomes more and more concerned that Bastian is misusing AURYN and losing himself in the process. Xayide persuades him to wage war on the Ivory Tower and to try to crown himself childlike emperor. Atreyu defeats him, and Bastian wanders off, memories slipping away, until he finally becomes a boy without a name.

Bastian finds a group of humans that have forgotten everything, and who, like him, were once the great shapers of the world before their memories went away. He realizes that he only has a few precious memories left, and goes off in search of his one true wish. He eventually loses all of his memories, and Atreyu helps him to achieve his wish and return home. The book is gone, and Bastian goes to speak to its owner to tell him what happened. As it happens, Correander has also been to Fantastica, and the two become friends, bound together by their experiences. Bastian also mends the rift with his father, and his life is, presumably, better in the end.

This book had a huge impact on me as a child, because it was really the first time I’d ever seen a fantasy world constructed for the purpose of analyzing the psychology of a human being. Ende was very concerned about people losing a sense of wonder and awe for the world of imagination, and he created a means of showing the value of it. But at the same time, he decided to show readers what happens when one becomes too immersed in fantasy — that he or she can lose a sense of self and connection to others, and plunge into chaos and darkness. Bastian’s power in the world of Fantastica is great, but it warps and corrupts him because he isn’t connected to anyone. Even Atreyu, who represents Bastian’s good and heroic side, has to stop Bastian from corrupting the world and then has to help the feeble shell of Bastian find a way home.

Another interesting thing about this book is that it’s incredibly rich. Ende didn’t adopt Tolkien’s style of fantasy, and though AURYN may seen at times like the One Ring, it’s a very different device. AURYN is not evil; it is meant to bestow power so that the person who wields it can shape the world. It is as much a device of protection and goodness as it is a device of indulgence and evil. When Bastian wields its absolute power, he is corrupted not by AURYN itself, but by the delusion that he is the source of its power.

I would also argue that the Childlike Empress and Xayide are mirror images of each other. Moonchild is a wonderful person who is wise and powerful and kind. She brings out what is best in Bastian, and she needs him to help her because her world is in need of the power of imagination. Xayide is a terrifying woman who is cunning and malicious and who lusts for power. She brings out what is worst in Bastian because she needs him to grow her own power. Ultimately, Xayide is nothing without Bastian, but in corrupting him, she can achieve a level of power and standing that will make her almost as great as the Childlike Empress.

Just thinking about this book for the purposes of review makes me want to go and read it again. It is really a fantastic adventure, and much deeper and more meaningful than most children’s fantasy. The movies only really scratched the surface of the book’s true meaning. What Ende was really trying to say is that imagination is a wonderful and necessary thing… but that we must use it towards positive and benevolent ends or it will ultimately consume us. Used correctly, the stories we can conceive of will go on and on and give us more wonderful things. Used improperly, our imaginations will lead us to death, destruction, chaos and loss.

Sean’s Recommendation: Get a copy of this book immediately. Read it alone. Read it to your kids. Discuss it with other people. It’s a really amazing work of fiction that I highly recommend.