2023年1月22日 星期日

"The Green Mile Part 6: Coffey On The Mile" by Stephen King (1996)


"'And if you're thinking of getting him a new trial on the basis of this one thing, you better think again, senor.  John Coffey is a Negro, and in Trapingus County we're awful particular about giving new trials to Negroes."

"John Coffey On The Mile" is the final part of Stephen King's serialized novel The Green Mile, which was later adapted into a movie of the same name.  In this final part John Coffey, a miracle worker accused of the murder of two young white girls, faces the electric chair and certain death.

I've read a lot of Stephen King's novels and stories over the years, and this novella is certainly one of his best.  I can't speak on how it compares or relates to the other novellas in the series, but Part 6, taken on its own merits, is excellent.

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2023年1月21日 星期六

"Doomsday Clock" by Geoff Johns, Gary Frank and Brad Anderson (2017-2019)


You've read Watchmen, right?  I'm assuming everyone has.  If you haven't read Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon's original series you're either very young or not that interested in comics.  I'm assuming I can skip over Watchmen for the moment.  If you haven't read it you really should, and if you're pressed for time you can always watch the movie.

After the events of Watchmen Dr. Manhattan leaves his universe behind and enters the universe populated by the DC heroes we know and (sometimes) love.  Once there he starts manipulating past events for unknown reasons.  Ozymandias, his friend and sometime nemesis, follows him to the same universe, and of course Ozymandias always has a plan, and of course this plan involves the fate of mankind.

What follows after that point is really too convoluted for me to describe, and even after Dr. Manhattan and Ozymandias explain their individual plans at the end of the series I was left scratching my head, wondering if it all made sense.  I'm still not sure if it does.  Parts of these plans seemed very arbitrary.

The real question is whether Doomsday Clock is as good as Watchman.  To this question I can only answer no, not in the slightest.  Geoff Johns is a good writer, but he can't hold a candle to Alan Moore in his prime.  Gary Frank is also a good artist, but he seems to ape what Dave Gibbons did a little too closely, distilling Gibbon's approach to art into a nine panel layout that continually reminds you of how much better Gibbons was at telling a story through images.

Is Doomsday Clock terrible?  No, I don't think so, but as DC crossover events go it's still not as good as other series such as Crisis On Infinite Earths, Infinite Crisis or even Justice League One Million.  If forced to qualify Doomsday Clock I would say that it's just OK.  Not great, not that good, just OK.

And at the end of the day did we really need the Watchmen characters in the same story as Superman and Batman?  I don't think we did.  Leaving them alone would have made them more special, while incorporating them into something like Doomsday Clock goes a long way toward diminishing their importance.

Besides that, I think a series in which the Watchmen characters come up against the Charlton characters that inspired them would have been more fun.  Let's leave Superman and Batman out of it for a moment, and have Captain Atom take on Dr. Manhattan, Peacemaker take on the Comedian, Blue Beetle take on Night Owl...

...or at least put them in a room together... with Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons.. who are trying to write an outline for a comic book idea called "Watchmen..."

That would have truly been more meta for your money

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The Best American Science and Nature Writing: 2021," edited by Ed Yong (2022)


"Song took a shallow, labored breath.  He worried that a deepening distrust of doctors was undermining end-of-life discussions: "It's impossible when the patient or the patient's family is thinking at every turn, Oh, is the doctor saying there's nothing we can do because that's really the case or because he doesn't think he'll earn enough to be worth his effort?"  Song adjusted his nasal tube.  "Everyone should know what's coming.  When that day comes, we have to know the difference between giving up and letting go."

2021, as I'm sure everyone still living knows, was a difficult year for most people.  In 2023 many of us are looking at COVID more retrospectively, but back in 2021 COVID was an omnipresent fact of life, informing both trends in journalism and the shape our daily lives took.  2021 wasn't a good year for anyone who read the news, enjoyed traveling, or who worried aver the prospect of continued, unhindered breathing.

So of course COVID is a major theme in this book.  It isn't the subject of every article, but it's almost always there, lurking in the background, if not placed front and center.  And in the pages where COVID is absent there's climate change, a subject which is often assessed and reassessed in connection with COVID, so it should come as no surprise that The Best American Science and Nature Writing: 2021 more often than not makes for depressing reading.

This book is divided into three sections: "Contagion," "Connections" and "Consequences."  I'm sure you can guess what the articles in "Contagion" are about.  "Connections" and "Consequences" are where the articles offered and the subjects they highlight are more diverse, and where COVID forms more of a backdrop to a wider variety of topics.

The first section, "Contagion," was the hardest for me to get through.  Part of my difficulty was the fact that I, like many of you, have been emotionally exhausted by discussions of emergency rooms, dwindling resources and the ways in which viruses are transmitted.  Part of my difficulty also lies with the fact that a couple of articles in this section are just badly written, poorly conceived exercises in journalism, "It's Not Too Late To Save Black Lives" and "The Soft Butch That Couldn't" being the word offenders in this regard.  But then again we were all quietly (or not so quietly) panicking in 2021, so I can't blame the editor too much for the inclusion of these pieces.

The second and third sections of this book are better, even if Emily Raboteau's "This Is How We Live Now" is one of the most hysterical, overwrought, misleading bits of "journalism" I've ever come across.  It's less an essay than a guide to the author's pretentious friends.  COVID?  Climate change?  I'd take both over the annoying urban types that populate this tired plea for relevance.  Talk about preaching to a very particular choir.

I can't say that I found much common ground with the climate change articles in this book.  They discuss ecosystems, sure, but I wasn't seeing much understanding of how ecosystems actually work.  What's that, you say, we can't just pick and choose the aspects of nature we like, managing them in perpetuity?  No we can't, and a more humble understanding of our place in nature might be in order.  At the end of each day it's not about the end of the world; it's not about saving the planet, it's about saving ourselves, and living in a way that puts less pressure on the environments we inhabit.

The last two articles in this collection, "The Friendship and Love Hospital" and "The Last Children of Down Syndrome," are far and away the best articles in this book.  The former discusses hospice care in China, and it's one of the most masterfully written articles I've come across in a long time.  The latter article explores the effect of prenatal DNA testing on expectant mothers, and reveals a complex web of choices with regard to who is born, who isn't, and how our understanding of genetics plays into public policy.

Overall I think that this collection is worth reading, but you could probably skip over the first section.  Those articles were written in the thick of things, and we've all been there and had those arguments with friends and family already.

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2023年1月16日 星期一

A Note On This Blog


If you're one of the few people reading this blog I want to say 1) thank you, and 2) yes, I'm still writing it.  The reason that new posts are few and far between is that I've been stuck in the 70s, watching movies from that decade and adding them into existing entries.

I watched Logan's Run yesterday, and I saw Avatar: The Way of Water the day before that.  Thoughts on both movies were added into their respective "Some Other Movies From..." entries.

Oh, and Happy Year of the Rabbit!  I'll be going on vacation soon, and I should have more time for reading and discussing books I read then.  At the moment I'm reading The Best Science & Nature Writing of 2021, and I'll be posting about here it when I'm finished.

2023年1月6日 星期五

"Where the Crawdads Sing" by Delia Owens (2018)


"'Well, sure, since you don't go to school I forgot.  All it said was, I saw you a couple of times when I was fishing, and it got me thinking that maybe you could use the seeds and the spark plug.  I had extra and thought it might save you a trip to town.  I figured you'd like the feathers."

Delia Owens is an author, zoologist and conservationist.  She's written three memoirs reflecting on her zoological studies in Africa, and Where the Crawdads Sing is her only novel.  Weirdly enough, the author, her ex-husband and her stepson are all wanted for questioning in relation to the murder of a poacher in Zambia.

Where the Crawdads Sing is, by the way, one of the best selling books of all time.  At the time of writing it's sold more than 15 million copies, and in this regard it sits alongside books as different as The Grapes of Wrath and James Clavell's Shogun.  It hasn't yet made Fifty Shades of Gray money, but it's not far off.

Where the Crawdads Sing is the story of Kya, a girl abandoned in the swamps of coastal North Carolina.  Shunned by those living in the nearest town, Kya grows up in almost total isolation.  Nevertheless she still yearns for companionship, and it is this need for companionship that leads her first to Tate, an aspiring biologist, and then to Chase Andrews, who is found dead in the book's first chapter.  Is Kya guilty of his murder?  Or is someone else to blame?  This question of guilt, predicated upon Kya's estrangement from other people, is the focus of a trial which closes out the book.

Overall I liked this novel, though a couple things bothered me.  For one thing I thought Kya's mental forays into subjects such as spacetime were a bit much for someone trying to survive in a swamp, and for another thing I felt like her interest in science would have pushed her toward human society much sooner.  She clearly has a need to communicate what she knows about the ecosystem she inhabits, so I found it a bit perplexing that she didn't make more of an effort to integrate herself into the outside world.  The abuse she suffered at the hands of various people is certainly one reason to avoid human society, but I'm not sure if this fact alone explains her self-imposed isolation.

I watched the movie right after finishing the book, and while I can recommend the book I can't recommend the movie.  The movie completely misses the point of the book, and while it covers the same story points the essence of the novel - Kya's sense of isolation and her reasons for avoiding others - is almost completely absent from the movie.

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