As a result of the annual Trent Sketch Awards for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Pleasing Trent Sketch, otherwise known as the Sketchies, there will be no book rec today. Well, there is one: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (full text). I'm just not doing a big write up on it. It's a great little story that can be used as a gateway novel to the harder Dickens material. The imagery is haunting (appropriate, yet a cop out descriptor, I'm aware), and the overall result is a heartwarming, uplifting, kind of disturbing tale of Christmas joy just in time to deck your halls and toss another log on the fire. And you thought the St. Nicholas mythology of him stealing naughty children in a coal sack was evil; try showing a man his grave site early on Christmas Day to make him cough up the charity to the less fortunate. Dickens had quite a twisted perspective for a man now known for his extensive commitment to the Realist style. So Thursday is for Visual Achievement; Saturday is for Miscellaneous; and we ring in the new year on Tuesday with Print.

Labels: book rec, sketchies

I know the following papers may not make sense at first, but they have been arranged in a very specific order that will begin to make sense as they unfold. 1: From the journal of Robert 20 December, past midnight: I fear I know not what to learn from Stoker's Dracula. Am I to gain an understanding of how even mediocre literature can stand the test of time if the author manages to do one thing well? Is religious allegory worthy of this much praise in an otherwise average late-Gothic novel? That can't be it. I'm trapped in a web of interesting images with minimal pay off. The hoodlums across the street are eyeing up my house for another round of vandalism against excessive Christmas decorations, and I can't say I blame them. But with the constant rapping, tapping, smacking at my front door how do I dig deeper into a century plus old narrative to find the juicy nougat of truth in its fiction? The dawn won't break for hours yet, and this cursed white Ikea light is leaving me with a migraine. I must retire this post and pick it up later when light is on my side. 20 December, morning: The yard made it through the night without any major destruction. The snow has left Mr. Scrooges hidden from the waist down in a blanket of pristine white, though the cracks are forming in the paint. Too bad a cross won't stop wood from warping. The novel really doesn't move me all that much in the morning, either. I find it intriguing to revisit the work since it varies so much from the film adaptations with any merit at all. What director working in the Hollywood idiom would dare reveal that Count Dracula is a vampire with a seemingly endless series of lusty undead brides in the first five minutes as Stoker does in the first ten pages? It would be suicide. Perhaps that's the greater lesson here: don't expose the villain too soon? But it can't be. My favorite element of the novel is the immediate action. It drags here and there in the letters, but is mostly action, action, and more action. It's not summary: it's plot. How astonishing to see even a very plain prose style accomplish what most modern novelists struggle to do. A change of approach might benefit the examination. 2: Digital correspondence between Robert and his brother, Christopher TrentSketch to BrotherofSketch, 9:45 AM, g-mail: Dearest Brother, I hope this e-mail finds you well. Thank you for linking me to that website with those international interpretations of fairy tales. It will be most helpful in the upcoming writing project. My purpose for writing is not so cheerful, sadly. I remember you complaining non-stop about reading a novel called Dracula in high school. Perhaps you could help me reconcile my mediocre reaction to one of the most popular novels of the late Gothic period? I fear I'll never quite understand the appeal. Robert PS: Grand Torino on Monday if the snow clears up? You know my car can't safely travel on the road until they plow out the boonies. Christopher to Robert, text message: That boko is gay. Just wacth d movie :):):) 3: from Something Printed This Way Comes, a blog of Robert 20 December, post begun 10:30 pm EST: My dearest readers, I fear that I have learned nothing I didn't already know from a reread of Dracula. The shifting narrative technique is novel, but means nothing if the voice never changes between characters. Still, it is an engaging read. It's like a popcorn flick: you don't need you're brain to get the message, but you'll probably enjoy yourself regardless of its vapidity. There's plenty of tension and haunting imagery that may be written plain but gets the job done. Maybe there is a lesson in this. Literary fireworks are great, but who gives a damn if they don't amount to anything? Page turning pop-lit may not be perceived as the most meritorious, yet it earns more money than serious literature for a good reason. It's enjoyable. It's fun. You feel good for finishing a book that isn't that serious. Is a book that great if no one wants to read it? Or the lesson is this: Christ. I really am a lit snob. If it's not complex or very different, I'm probably not going to go crazy over it. That's kind of sad. Hopefully I can force my way through some lighter books and have an easier time digesting them throughout the rest of Cannonball Read than I did here. Pleasant dreams. Up Next: Tananarive Due: My Soul to Keep On Deck: Don't Look Now: Daphne Du Maurier

Classes officially done for the semester. Rejoice. Book Rec: Johnny the Homicidal Maniac: Director's Cut by Jhonen Vasquez I'm betraying my number one Internet safety rule (do not discuss Jhonen's comics lest you be googled), but I feel up to the challenge tonight. After all, I'm praising his work here because of the strength of writing. It should be obvious by now I enjoy horror. It should be equally obvious I enjoy: Modernism, philosophy, character portraits, distinctive art styles, and art for the sake of art. Now toss that all into the black ink filled blender of Jhonen Vasquez's twisted brain, sprinkle liberally with violence, and you get Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. For the uninitiated: Johnny is a homicidal maniac. He kills people because he can. These revenge fantasies are over the top and darkly humorous. He meditates on the meaning of life (there is none), his continued existence (why why why), and the destructive power of sleep (casts doubt on reality for the lines blur too easily). He speaks to inanimate and imaginary objects, and believes one wall in his home must be kept wet with blood lest the being on the other side breaks free and destroys us all. He also enjoys tacos, classical music, and drawing his own stick figure comic. There are those who will claim there is no merit in Vasquez's work because of the violence and absurdity. I counter that these dark sequences are designed (aside from Jhonen's explanation of his use of violence to address personal demons and the necessity of fiction to vent our collective frustration and anger to prevent real life crimes like the murders illustrated in Johnny) to reflect on a much darker aspect of humanity we don't admit nearly enough. If it does not affect us personally, it's not our problem. Johnny can go around killing hordes of people at a taco stand, yet no one can recognize him because it didn't involve them. Impalement behind the school yard? At least it wasn't me. War in another country? Not my problem. More so than that, Jhonen created a very memorable world based in absurdity and expressionist-like black and white art. For example, Johnny's t-shirt changes its message to reflect the thoughts of the character, even if those thoughts are pure nonsense. The labyrinth of underground torture chambers is filled with ironic punishments for viewing oneself as the only worthwhile being in the universe. This self-centered mindset is the basis of almost every murder in the Johnny collection, even if the crime is as petty as bumping into Johnny and not saying anything. Is Johnny the Homicidal Maniac right for everyone to read? Of course not. Neither is Maus by Art Spiegelman (some people just won't get the animal imagery and will refuse to look past the Polish people portrayed as pigs to understand the point of the book) or Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi (some will undoubtedly hate it because it presents one political ideology in a major conflict over another). In fact, the entire graphic novel genre (Johnny is stretching it with that; they were comics compiled into a book, but Vasquez did edit out some of the filler to make the story a more cohesive whole) is highly polarizing, as some can't get past their belief that comics and cartoons are only for children and any adult who reads them is an idiot. If you can handle some ultraviolence, give Johnny a try. Otherwise, please to enjoy Maus or Persepolis or Watchmen or Sandman or any other graphic novel that tries to be more than just one type of literature. They really can have merit when done well.

Labels: book rec