Couldn't Get Atwood; Big Fan of Vonnegut.

Slaughterhouse Five

I know that this one wasn't the spotlight novel for the week, but boy howdy did I flip when I saw Kurt Vonnegut as one of the authors that worked under the category of "Literary Speculation". As a huge fan, I decided to take a risk and write my final blog post about a book that I'm truly passionate about that just happens to touch on the same genre that just happens to be the week's topic of interest. If you haven't read "Slaughterhouse Five", I highly recommend that you do so, as I believe it to be one of Vonnegut's very best. Following WW2 veteran Billy Pilgrim, a man who had been abducted by aliens that see all of time at all times towards the end of his life and thusly has gained the uncontrollable ability to warp randomly between points in time of his life, Slaughterhouse explores the strange tendencies of human beings, especially during war time, and the subject of fate.

The aliens that abduct Pilgrim, you see, have developed a very distant perspective on life that I think no human can ever truly understand. Seeing as how they see all of time constantly, when they come across a dead member of their race or likewise come across any kind of unpleasant stimuli, they simply choose to acknowledge a time when that stimuli wasn't so (for instance, when that dead alien was alive). At one point, Billy asks them if they know how the universe ends, and they respond "yes" -- they're well aware that it will be one of their race, who accidentally implodes existence at one point in time in a science experiment that has yet to happen, and has already happened. Since it will happen, and therefor might as well already have happened, they see no reason to stop it, as they can't, or have already failed, yet haven't yet tried, to do so. You can see how their outlook on life is radically different and nearly unthinkable to the average human mind, which can only experience time linearly.

Slaughterhouse got me to ask myself some pretty important questions, and had a huge impact on my life by forcing me to realize, through Billy Pilgrim, that time truly is fleeting, and even if I could go back and re-live what I loved most, it would warp me into a horrible, unfeeling entity that could hardly be considered human at all! I actually owe this book a lot -- prior to it, I spent many a night alone at a computer, and was well over a healthy weight for my age. And now, well, I can definitely say that I'm a much healthier and happier person, with a much richer and more vibrant life, thanks to Kurt Vonnegut. Again, if you haven't read Slaughterhouse Five, then please do yourself a favor and try it. Vonnegut isn't for everyone, to be sure, but I can guarantee, if you sit through the whole thing, that it's an experience you won't forget.

--William Avery

Oh jeez, not Keanu R-- oh, it's a book too.

Johnny Mnemonic.

So as the title of the article might lead you to believe, when I google searched "Johnny Mnemonic", the first result was a movie. This lead me to a movie trailer and, eventually, Keanu Reeves. This... did not make me very enthusiastic about delving into the tale. I was saved, though, by a youtube comment that wondered how the movie had ruined the book for him. "A book, you say?" I wondered to myself. "I'll take it." Thus began my short trip into the world of William Gibson and the Sprawl.

First impressions walking away from it: I definitely enjoyed what I saw, and am looking forward to reading more into "The Sprawl Trilogy" at a later date. Cyberpunk isn't a genre that I frequently get into, but I'm not really sure why that is. I normally enjoy what I see, and it's quite often a refreshing change from my normal regimen of contemporary fantasy and space operas. One of my favorite shows, actually, is arguably of the Cyberpunk genre, and its similarity to Gibson's universe is certainly one of the primary reasons that I enjoyed it so much.

The show, Batman Beyond, was something that I regularly looked forward to when I came home from school as a child. And while the protagonist wasn't a traditional Cyberpunk heroine, being a troubled teenaged boy with Batman's arsenal at his disposal, I think that you could pretty easily qualify it as a work of the genre in question. The first similarity that I noticed was the commonality of body modification amongst the public. Also, the story took place in a future that felt more like a warped, gritty, and immediate future like that of "Johnny Mnemonic", as opposed to a distant and fantastic future like that of Star Trek. And strong female characters? Sheesh, I can't actually think of a female character in Batman Beyond that wasn't strong-willed and just as important (much more so in some cases) as any male character. Hell, there's even a woman with a monomolecular sword in Batman Beyond; paired with the fact that its wielder is a woman, I could argue that said monomolecular blade is even more Cyberpunk-y than Gibson's yakuza assassin.

Anyway, all in all this story turned out to be an eye opener for me. Not in the sense that I had an epiphany on what I should do with my life, but just an interesting realization about what I appreciate in the world of fiction. It was thought-provoking to imagine that just days ago I couldn't tell you Cyberpunk from Space Opera, but now I see I've been appreciating the world of Cyberpunk from afar for far longer than I'd ever thought!

--William Avery

I... I Just Had To.

Star Wars.

Seriously, I just had to; how could I not? Who doesn't love Star Wars? Unfortunately, I actually know a decent few who don't, but... let's not talk about them. It was definitely interesting trying to watch one of my favorite series through an artistic lens, and I'll admit, at times I discarded it completely in order to better enjoy the movies, but here are some things I managed to gather.

First of all, you should know that I watched "The Empire Strikes Back", because it's far and away my favorite. As a child, I'd seen "crazy jungle world environment" (Return of the Jedi) way too many times in various other shows, and the desert/hardcore sci-fi environments of "A New Hope" never really struck me as awe-inspiring, just interesting. For whatever reason, I'd never seen an ice-themed environment/planet before, so the sheer novelty of Hoth just had me hooked. And you can't forget the Cloud City either; that whole bit was just gorgeous. The sheer amount of thought and care that radiates from every detail of Cloud City is almost enough to make me drop out of Ringling and pursue movie set design as a career.

Being more familiar with the creative process since joining the ranks of visual artists, I've been able to appreciate the environments of the Star Wars films to an extent that baffles me still. I always thought they were cool, sure, but to just pull something that feels so real and unified out of nothing like that, and have it feel completely original and owned by that franchise, distant from anything the viewer has seen before? Jaw-droppingly impressive.

And let's not forget about the writing. Whether it be for the cheesy, almost campy nature of the lines or the artisan perfection of them, I believe that episode five stands out among its colleagues as the champion as far as script is concerned. Leia and Han's arguments in the beginning of the film feel genuine and actually tempers the viewer's interest in their relationship, whereas, if you'll recall, the spats between Padme and Anakin in the prequels are little more than melodramatic drivel reminiscent of a 90's teen drama. And Lando Calrissian's betrayal of Han at Cloud City? Completely threw me the first time I saw it, not to mention his double-betrayal of the empire further down the road. And of course, I can't talk about script without touching on the little fact that "The Empire Strikes Back" contains one of the single most iconic lines ever spoken in cinema history; I don't want to spoil anything, though, so I'll leave it at that. Best. Space Opera. Ever.

--William Avery

A Matured Lens for Del Toro.

Pan's Labyrinth.

While I'd already had the pleasure of watching this movie once, I figured it was worth a "while the hell not" for this blog post. I was relatively young when it came out (or at least young enough to not fully understand what was going on and why), so I was also interested to see what I'd think of it the second time around. I definitely maintained my initial feelings of "what the hell did I just watch?", but all around I'd have to say I was much more entertained during round two.

First of all, there was much more to be entertained by. Seen through younger eyes, Pan's Labyrinth is a movie about a distant war and the two sides it involves, with a little bit of fantasy thrown in for good measure. I never really understood why the story had to be told from the perspective of a little girl who just so happens to be thrown into the mix due to her unfortunately involved mother; the real story being told was about the war, to me, so what was all of this fairy tale nonsense for? Why couldn't we just be told everything from a rebel's point of view? The maid seemed like an interesting character, being a spy and all. Hell, why not a story focused on Captain Vidal? He's awesome!

From the point of view of a student who's about 60% through his training as a Game Artist, though, it's a different story. Now that I've been taught to find significance in every single choice that an artist makes when producing quality work, I actually found myself a bit overwhelmed by all of the aforementioned choices. I see now that the whole point of the story being told from the perspective of a little girl is to have the viewer feel the events of the film more personally, and to have a sense that we would be incredibly vulnerable in this universe of both fantastic and real dangers. I remember thinking how ridiculous it was to open the movie with a lot of talk about myths and princesses of the underworld, then just go tell a story that's so heavy on problems based in reality. Now, however, I see that this introduction  (and rather unsatisfying ending) serves merely as an excuse to shepherd the viewer into a universe that, as I said before, seems daunting and foreboding. Without the fantastic elements, the tale becomes one that has been told many times before, and would be much more bland that the surreal thrill that Pan's Labyrinth is lauded to be.

--William Avery

Well, I Walked Right In to This One.

The Magicians.

God DAMN this was hard to read -- this was one of the few times that I was glad I couldn't read much due to the famous GAD work load. I'll be more objective and analytical later on in this blog post, but for right now I've just got to let off some steam. If you want me to enjoy your work of literature, you've got to give me a protagonist that I actually care about, and not some whiny guy for whom dreams coming true isn't enough. That aside, there were indeed a few things that I ended up liking about this book. Let's talk about it, shall we?

A good thing: the universe that this story takes place in. Obviously, the actual "universe" is the one that you and I live in, but I mean the way that the author handles the story's integration into our universe. The fact that a book series that is essentially "Harry Potter" is present grounds us that much more in the book, and allows the readers to accept the universe as our own that much more. Also, from a storytelling perspective, the presence of a Potter-like book series that the protagonist wishes was real allows readers to empathize and care that much more about him. Quentin, while personally loathed by yours truly, probably resonates very well with Harry Potter fans towards the beginning of the book -- what Potter fan doesn't wish that they could be whisked away to Hogwarts to learn all about magic? It's a very common desire amongst the fandom, I'm sure.

That same desire that Quentin has, though, seems to me to be a bit of an exploitation of the fanbase on the author's part. This definitely falls under my personal opinion once again, rather than objective observation, but I've never been a fan of having the author/director/creator of a work of fiction use the tactic of having a character that's "JUST LIKE YOU, DEAR READER!" It's one thing to have a book about a Mary Sue (Stephanie Meyer, for example), but to force your reader into becoming a Mary Sue is a whole 'nother level of forehead-smacking disappointment. I realize that one of the rules in creating a successfully lovable protagonist is to have him/her be relatable; but I don't believe that that rule was followed in this particular case. Quentin, from what I've read, doesn't seem as much "relatable" to the book's target market as he is a carbon copy of the book's target market, and that's just a shame. I hate those people enough as is.

--William Avery

Originality is So Relieving to See Nowadays.

Warbreaker.
Every now and then there comes along a story that really captures my attention -- something that fills me a childlike sense of wonder that I rarely get to experience nowadays, in my cynical young adulthood. Unfortunately, Brandon Sanderson's "Warbreaker" didn't quite hit that sweet spot, but it's come the closest out of anything I've read in the past, let's say, two years? Also unfortunately, as has been the case with all of these novels, I was unable to finish reading it. I did, however, manage to get to chapter 8, which felt considerably further than I'd gotten in the other things I've read for this class.

There are two things I'd like to harp on, considering what I was able to read. First of all, breath. As anyone who's ever played a video game or watched a movie with me can tell you, I'm all about originality -- if I see something that's been done before, chances are good that I won't like it. There are exceptions of course, as there are with everything, but in general I'm just one of those people who must be kept entertained with a steady stream of original content. As you can imagine, this makes enjoying the entertainment industry a little frustrating at time. Now then, concerning breath, I have a hard time describing how impressed I am sheerly by how unique and solid this system of magic feels to me. I believe it was Orson Scott Card who said that all magics need a set of strict boundaries to be interesting, and having a system limited by something as arbitrary as color is a far cry from the standard of just being able to wrap your head around a spell. Hell, as soon as someone in the Harry Potter universe figures out the hand motion for "Avada Kadavra", he can become the great mass murderer ever known -- where's the interest in that? More than anything in this "Warbreaker" book, I laud the idea of BioChromancy and its extremely large array of uses, but extremely strict limitations. It makes meaningful interactions in the plot using "breath" that much more important and impressive.

The second thing I'd like to talk about is much shorter: I just want to mention how little I care about what appears to be the main plot. As a twenty-something year old male, I'm so much more interested in Vasher and his mysterious presence in Hallandren than Siri and... the older sister whose name escapes me. Vivian, perhaps? Anyway; I know it's just my extreme bias towards the brave adventuring alpha male archetype that makes me feel this way, but really, I'm just not that interested in the story of a sudden political weight that's been placed onto a young girl's shoulders. I'm interested enough in Vasher, BioChromancy, and this "Lightsong" character, though, to finish this over Christmas Break, so hopefully the main plot will be twisted in such a way that I can appreciate it more as I read on.

--William Avery

Dwarves Dwarves Dwarves ohgodyescan'twait Dwarves.

The Hobbit.

First things first, I freaking love dwarves. In every piece of literature, film, or interactive media that I've ever seen some variation of the dwarven race appear in, I've loved them. The dwarves of the Lord of the Rings universe are no different, so the fact that a solid half of the cast in "The Hobbit" is dwarven got me a little more than excited to read the book. All of that said, let's talk about Thorin. At first I couldn't WAIT to get into this novel almost completely due to Thorin -- the reason being that he bore several similarities to the dwarven character that I always make in any game that I play that has dwarves in it (keep in mind that I'm a Game Art student, so this isn't completely out of the blue). Reading further on though, I really... unexpectedly came to dislike him. Sure, he started out as the brave n' brash, mead-swilling rogue that I'd expected from the "young, adventuring dwarf" archetype, but when it came down to it, Thorin just wasn't very good at his job. As the leader of his band of foolhardy vagabonds, it was his duty to, for one, have a darn plan when the sh*t hits the fan; as soon as Gandalf left the group, though, everything was just "attack!" or "run!". A leader simply needs more than two speeds. And the whole angle of his heritage and how the dragon's treasures are rightfully his, while necessarily to jump-starting the plot, just give him this wacked-out sense of entitlement and renders him all the more unlikeable! Just as that entitlement is vital to the plot, though, I suppose his reprimandable actions are vital to give the protagonist, Bilbo, all the more credibility as an actual leader -- being incredibly clever, crafty, and concerned with the rest of the group in comparison to its "leader" really helps in Bilbo preventing him from being overshadowed by the rest of the novel's colorful cast. While I didn't get to finish "The Hobbit", I definitely intend to do so in the future, and I'm quite relieved to hear that Thorin, though I don't know though, manages to redeem himself in the eyes of the audience by the time the book is through. It's definitely a relief to me.

 --William Avery