The Hours
I finished reading The Hours the other day instead of some much-needed studying. I didn't like it.
The movie adaptation of the novel is one of my all-time favourite films. I've seen it four or five times, which is a lot considering that The Hours is neither Mean Girls nor Ghostbusters, meaning that it's hardly the material for amusement. So yes, I really loved the movie, which is why I decided to read the book. Besides, I thought, it won the Pulitzer; it must be good, right? Right?
Wrong.
If I'm picking up a book that won a prize, I'm expecting something other than a good plot and deep philosophical reflection, thank you very much. The movie had all that in anyway. What I'm expecting from the book is style, well-crafted language, interesting parallels, inventive metaphors and imagery. I'm not necessarily looking for avant-garde literary experimentation (which I happen to dislike), but a semblance of competence would go a long way.
And what do I get? 226 pages of present tense. I mean, seriously, Mr. Cunningham, there's a reason if 99% of the world's novels are written using some form of the past tense! There's a whole bloody tense invented solely for use in storytelling (well, there is in French and Italian)! USE IT!
But noooo, you have to do your best to irritate me in all possible ways, just because the present tense is effective.
Newsflash, berk, it's only effective for ONE PAGE. Or two, if you really must.
Oh, and since the only way to win prizes is to do something unusual, you go and make every single character gay, or at the very least bisexual. Which is perfectly fine when Virginia Woolf does it, because guess what? SHE CAN WRITE.
And of course, your pressing need to be cool and original, because that's what the in crowd does nowadays, comes to the fore in some rather interesting decriptive passages which do nothing for the reader (me) but incense her further. Because you thought it might be amusing to write stuff that DOESN'T MAKE SENSE.
Example: 'Laura is at once comforted and unnerved.'
Now, I understand that you desperately want to win the Pulitzer, but there's something called common sense. You simply cannot be both comforted and unnerved at the same time. The two terms are, by definition, mutually exclusive. It's not like being happy and sad at the same time, or, taking non-literal meanings into account, clean and dirty. No, this is like suggesting that it might be possible to be calm and nervous, or lost and found, all at the same time.
IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!
I don't know, were you going for effect? It just made me laugh. And the worst part is, the rest of the novel is that kind of thing over and over and over again. In the present tense.
You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to write a one-paragraph 'novel' and get it published and win the Pulitzer. You, my dearest readers, are getting a sneak preview. You have no idea how lucky you are to be given this once-in-a-lifetime opportuniy. Here goes:
TPF walks out of her trendy loft in New York City [because all cool novels are set in New York, didn't you know? You try setting one in Stratford-Upon-Avon, see how many Pulitzers that gets you!] and goes to buy flowers just like Mrs. Dalloway did in that old book, and it's a great idea to have three parallel stories going on like that, I like the idea. Suddenly, TPF notices a beautiful Golden Retriever walking ahead and feels an immediate attraction towards it because if she wants to win the Pulitzer, she must be attracted to dogs as well as men, women, children and priests. So TPF follows the dog and thinks of her life, here in NYC, and decides that it's definitely worth living. She decides to buy a hot dog, because dogs are HOT. She bites it and realizes that it's both hot and cold (don't ask, she has weird nerve endings). She walks back home briskly, yet at the same time slowly, and decides that she loves life. But she hates it, too.
Well, I'm not quite happy with that first draft, I'll have to tweak it a bit, but what do you think? Do I have a chance?
OK, I'll stop being mean now. With that spirit, I shall conclude this post by being nice about Veronica Mars, that weird TV show they've started airing in Italy with the main character who is anything but conventional. I mean, she got drugged and raped at a party! It's risky. I like it.
PS: More about Mr. Cunningham? Read this interview. It's quite interesting, actually.
The movie adaptation of the novel is one of my all-time favourite films. I've seen it four or five times, which is a lot considering that The Hours is neither Mean Girls nor Ghostbusters, meaning that it's hardly the material for amusement. So yes, I really loved the movie, which is why I decided to read the book. Besides, I thought, it won the Pulitzer; it must be good, right? Right?
Wrong.
If I'm picking up a book that won a prize, I'm expecting something other than a good plot and deep philosophical reflection, thank you very much. The movie had all that in anyway. What I'm expecting from the book is style, well-crafted language, interesting parallels, inventive metaphors and imagery. I'm not necessarily looking for avant-garde literary experimentation (which I happen to dislike), but a semblance of competence would go a long way.
And what do I get? 226 pages of present tense. I mean, seriously, Mr. Cunningham, there's a reason if 99% of the world's novels are written using some form of the past tense! There's a whole bloody tense invented solely for use in storytelling (well, there is in French and Italian)! USE IT!
But noooo, you have to do your best to irritate me in all possible ways, just because the present tense is effective.
Newsflash, berk, it's only effective for ONE PAGE. Or two, if you really must.
Oh, and since the only way to win prizes is to do something unusual, you go and make every single character gay, or at the very least bisexual. Which is perfectly fine when Virginia Woolf does it, because guess what? SHE CAN WRITE.
And of course, your pressing need to be cool and original, because that's what the in crowd does nowadays, comes to the fore in some rather interesting decriptive passages which do nothing for the reader (me) but incense her further. Because you thought it might be amusing to write stuff that DOESN'T MAKE SENSE.
Example: 'Laura is at once comforted and unnerved.'
Now, I understand that you desperately want to win the Pulitzer, but there's something called common sense. You simply cannot be both comforted and unnerved at the same time. The two terms are, by definition, mutually exclusive. It's not like being happy and sad at the same time, or, taking non-literal meanings into account, clean and dirty. No, this is like suggesting that it might be possible to be calm and nervous, or lost and found, all at the same time.
IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!
I don't know, were you going for effect? It just made me laugh. And the worst part is, the rest of the novel is that kind of thing over and over and over again. In the present tense.
You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to write a one-paragraph 'novel' and get it published and win the Pulitzer. You, my dearest readers, are getting a sneak preview. You have no idea how lucky you are to be given this once-in-a-lifetime opportuniy. Here goes:
TPF walks out of her trendy loft in New York City [because all cool novels are set in New York, didn't you know? You try setting one in Stratford-Upon-Avon, see how many Pulitzers that gets you!] and goes to buy flowers just like Mrs. Dalloway did in that old book, and it's a great idea to have three parallel stories going on like that, I like the idea. Suddenly, TPF notices a beautiful Golden Retriever walking ahead and feels an immediate attraction towards it because if she wants to win the Pulitzer, she must be attracted to dogs as well as men, women, children and priests. So TPF follows the dog and thinks of her life, here in NYC, and decides that it's definitely worth living. She decides to buy a hot dog, because dogs are HOT. She bites it and realizes that it's both hot and cold (don't ask, she has weird nerve endings). She walks back home briskly, yet at the same time slowly, and decides that she loves life. But she hates it, too.
Well, I'm not quite happy with that first draft, I'll have to tweak it a bit, but what do you think? Do I have a chance?
OK, I'll stop being mean now. With that spirit, I shall conclude this post by being nice about Veronica Mars, that weird TV show they've started airing in Italy with the main character who is anything but conventional. I mean, she got drugged and raped at a party! It's risky. I like it.
PS: More about Mr. Cunningham? Read this interview. It's quite interesting, actually.
posted by The Poodle's Friend at 5:24 PM
7 Comments:
Well I read so little (book-wise) that it's embarrassing. I will have to hold up my hand for using the present tense in some of my blog posts for effect. I can't help it, it's just the way I see things sometimes.
Loved the book idea! I think you need more contradictions and oxymorons though to make this 'TPF' character a little more 3-dimensional. Or none-dimensional, I'm not sure how it works.
Lastly, I watch loads of US TV shows but I haven't seen Veronica Mars, despite the amount of people going on about it. I hear Buffy fans should like it though, so I'll be interested to see what you think of it.
That was great. You are a very gifted writer. I definitely think your novel (would you be able to call one paragraph a novel, though?) will win the Pullitzer...or at least some sort of award for originality.
With much difficulty, I easily choose this as the best line of your review:
Which is perfectly fine when Virginia Woolf does it, because guess what? SHE CAN WRITE.
On the hand, I am giddily saddened by your apology:
OK, I'll stop being mean now.
You are not a sneaksnark covering your tracks in the night! You have met your adversary head on, and you have won! (Cliche, anyone? Have two, they're small.) You have defeated a pompous ass with his own humble hat! Do NOT apologize for HONEST criticism!
(Sorry. Pooper had a hairball.)
AWARD TIME!
For the best book review of April 15, 2006 (15 April 2006), I award the Pukelitzer Prize to . . . TPF!
[FG's gonna have a figurative cow when she reads your review!]
Ash: Yeah, I watched Veronica Mars expecting Alyson Hannigan to pop up at any moment, but she didn't. But the whole concept of the strong female character is very much akin to Buffy, so yeah, us Buffy fans should like it.
And I'm sure you did a much better job at using the present tense! Unless your post happened to be more than 2000 words in length.
Meg: But of course! It's an experimental novel, which means it can be as short as I want it to be! And thanks for your support, it's nice to have friendly critics so early in my writing career.
Pooper: You clearly have the Pulitzer gift. With much difficulty, I easily choose this as the best line of your review... Beautiful.
HA! PUKELITZER! Thank you for making me giggle.
I hereby refuse to dignify your post with a response.
Nothing I say is ever going to make a difference in any case. The Hours is a wonderful novel and incomparable to the movie, which was great in any case.
Pan sulks, doesn't she.
beautiful. just beautiful. your novel is very ...interesting. i may never be able to eat a hot dog again but thank you anyway.
the poor berk. you really let him have it. though i'm guessing he'll smile through his tears or something. am i the only one wondering if he has a split personality?
Post a Comment
<< Home