So, the obvious question: why review a seven-year old novelization of a lackluster film which contributed to the destruction of many of our childhoods? Because around four years ago I picked up this book on a whim, and it challenged my assumptions about what writing is capable of.
This is a novel that knows the exact strengths and weaknesses of the story set before it, and is totally willing to emphasize that which helps it and sweep all the other stuff under the rug. Stover demonstrates remarkable aptitude in aggressively restructuring the tale as told in the film: the "opening" battle scene in the movie is stretched to roughly a 1/3 of the book's length, giving Stover legroom to properly introduce and breathe life into all the characters before we begin the story proper.
The general story you know well, but where this book really shines is in helping the reader grasp the characters psychologically. That might sound stupid in a soft sci-fi setting like Star Wars, but the execution is so flawless you won't think twice about it. One trick which Stover pulls several times is in using little 2nd person sections of the story to tell you exactly what a character feels or thinks at that particular moment. By describing, say, Anakin Skywalker's thoughts, reasoning, and emotions to the reader as though they were Anakin, the novel becomes incredibly gripping in a way that is really rather surprising. Having watched the film, I didn't think it was possible to empathize with the cardboard-cutout protagonist Anakin, but the novel really does an outstanding job conveying the deep, powerful emotions bubbling just under the surface without seeming tacky or under-developed.
Even beyond this, the novel succeeds in ways that were unexpected. Action, for me, doesn't often work well in prose (especially when someone is adapting a film into narrative), but by employing a more impressionistic-view of the lightsaber and space battles (i.e. focusing on the fighters' thoughts, styles and characteristics instead of drab hit-by-hit recitation), the confrontations are engaging, while actually adding to the story.
In short, this novel did what the film definitely did not: it made this universe, and this story, real and powerful for me. By shifting the focus away from the inane, confusing, and "too-complex-for-soft-sci-fi" plot and instead drawing our attention to the characters, Stover's book has conveyed the meaning and intensity of this rather dark tale in a way only a masterful novel can.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
radical
What was the most radical thing Jesus ever said?
...
That's largely dependent on the person reading, I presume. To a Jewish person in the 1st century, maybe it was the part where he said "the Sabbath was made for man, not man for it."
To a wealthy person (in any century), maybe it's that time he tells the rich young man, "Give away all your possessions, lay up treasures in heaven; come follow me."
(this is not where I'm going with this, but as a sidenote, do you ever worry about the fact that Jesus said it was harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, and we Americans represent the upper-upper-upper class of the world?)
To a lover of social justice, whether it be a Jewish man resisting the oppressive Roman rule at the time, or a black man being subject to police brutality during the Civil Rights movement, maybe it's the part where he calls down Zacchaeus, that foul son-of-a-bitch who traded his own people to the Romans for money, and goes to eat with him. Or the part where he asks forgiveness for the guards, and the people, responsible for killing him.
Jesus was certainly more radical than we often give him credit for being.
I think, though, that we often miss the two most radical things he ever said. Miss them for what they are, anyways.
Here's one:
"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."
And here's the other:
"You should love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; this is the greatest commandment. The second is similar: love your neighbor as yourself."
The thing about these is, they boil everything up there down to a single powerful command. "Love."
Jesus, was ultimately love.
Duh.
But here's the thing: we look over this all the time.
Consider the history of the Church. Things start off pretty good, we have Paul and the apostles doing crazy shit all around the Mediterranean, the Church spreading like wildfire, all this great stuff. The Roman government oppressing the Church pretty much only makes it stronger. There's persecution, yes. There's hardship and trials, certainly. But things are going unbelievably.
Then something horrible happens. Something which set a precedent for the next 1900 years in the Church.
The Church became...official.
How terribly ironic that the Constantine adopted Christianity as part of a last-ditch effort in a losing battle. In becoming legit, we lost some of our credibility.
Then, there was the Roman Catholic Church, and now the Church existed as a political entity (a powerful one, at that), wielding it's supposed spiritual power to guide the ways of man towards their own political gains. Part of this involves the attempted re-capture of the Holy Land, or "Jesus cries as so many horrors are wrought in his name", or the Crusades.
In Europe, wars are fought constantly over Christianity itself: theological and ideological differences tear us apart.
Some people try to escape the fighting and go to a place where they make all religion legal and free (they had a good idea). But they severely fuck everything up by all being Christians. And from there, we have the growth of American-Christian Imperialism, including our insane understanding of moral truths, truths we claim to find in the text itself but really date back to our 1900 year old belief that Jesus had nothing to say about "justified warfare".
That's the brief overview. I left out the parts where we conquered and massacred native peoples all over the world, in Jesus' name; the parts where we cruelly subjected lower classes and racial minorities to horrible welfare conditions or even slavery, in Jesus' name; and the parts where we prayed earnestly for God's blessing over people sent to gain geopolitical and economical power for the United States in the very land where God might be needed the most, in Jesus' name.
Millions upon millions killed, slaughtered, broken, tortured, subjugated, conquered, and hated.
In Jesus' name.
"Love."
How the hell did we screw up such a simple command?
I don't think we did. I think we screwed up an incredibly difficult command. That's why these are Jesus' most radical claims: they're near impossible for us, humans, to do.
Think about your day today (or yesterday). When was the last time you thought "I really hate that person"? (for me, it was yesterday at around 7 o'clock). When was the last time you wanted someone to see a cruel "justice", whether or not it was deserved? When was the last time you found that you would prefer to see someone loved than punished?
Here's the incredible, world-changing, life-changing, impossible truth: as a Christian, we can never use the term "enemy" to describe another human being.
...
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Everyone who is angry with his brother is liable to judgment.
Do not resist the one who is evil...turn the other cheek.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Father, forgive them: for they do not know what they are doing - Father, forgive us: we do not know what we are doing.
...
That's largely dependent on the person reading, I presume. To a Jewish person in the 1st century, maybe it was the part where he said "the Sabbath was made for man, not man for it."
To a wealthy person (in any century), maybe it's that time he tells the rich young man, "Give away all your possessions, lay up treasures in heaven; come follow me."
(this is not where I'm going with this, but as a sidenote, do you ever worry about the fact that Jesus said it was harder for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, and we Americans represent the upper-upper-upper class of the world?)
To a lover of social justice, whether it be a Jewish man resisting the oppressive Roman rule at the time, or a black man being subject to police brutality during the Civil Rights movement, maybe it's the part where he calls down Zacchaeus, that foul son-of-a-bitch who traded his own people to the Romans for money, and goes to eat with him. Or the part where he asks forgiveness for the guards, and the people, responsible for killing him.
Jesus was certainly more radical than we often give him credit for being.
I think, though, that we often miss the two most radical things he ever said. Miss them for what they are, anyways.
Here's one:
"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."
And here's the other:
"You should love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength; this is the greatest commandment. The second is similar: love your neighbor as yourself."
The thing about these is, they boil everything up there down to a single powerful command. "Love."
Jesus, was ultimately love.
Duh.
But here's the thing: we look over this all the time.
Consider the history of the Church. Things start off pretty good, we have Paul and the apostles doing crazy shit all around the Mediterranean, the Church spreading like wildfire, all this great stuff. The Roman government oppressing the Church pretty much only makes it stronger. There's persecution, yes. There's hardship and trials, certainly. But things are going unbelievably.
Then something horrible happens. Something which set a precedent for the next 1900 years in the Church.
The Church became...official.
How terribly ironic that the Constantine adopted Christianity as part of a last-ditch effort in a losing battle. In becoming legit, we lost some of our credibility.
Then, there was the Roman Catholic Church, and now the Church existed as a political entity (a powerful one, at that), wielding it's supposed spiritual power to guide the ways of man towards their own political gains. Part of this involves the attempted re-capture of the Holy Land, or "Jesus cries as so many horrors are wrought in his name", or the Crusades.
In Europe, wars are fought constantly over Christianity itself: theological and ideological differences tear us apart.
Some people try to escape the fighting and go to a place where they make all religion legal and free (they had a good idea). But they severely fuck everything up by all being Christians. And from there, we have the growth of American-Christian Imperialism, including our insane understanding of moral truths, truths we claim to find in the text itself but really date back to our 1900 year old belief that Jesus had nothing to say about "justified warfare".
That's the brief overview. I left out the parts where we conquered and massacred native peoples all over the world, in Jesus' name; the parts where we cruelly subjected lower classes and racial minorities to horrible welfare conditions or even slavery, in Jesus' name; and the parts where we prayed earnestly for God's blessing over people sent to gain geopolitical and economical power for the United States in the very land where God might be needed the most, in Jesus' name.
Millions upon millions killed, slaughtered, broken, tortured, subjugated, conquered, and hated.
In Jesus' name.
"Love."
How the hell did we screw up such a simple command?
I don't think we did. I think we screwed up an incredibly difficult command. That's why these are Jesus' most radical claims: they're near impossible for us, humans, to do.
Think about your day today (or yesterday). When was the last time you thought "I really hate that person"? (for me, it was yesterday at around 7 o'clock). When was the last time you wanted someone to see a cruel "justice", whether or not it was deserved? When was the last time you found that you would prefer to see someone loved than punished?
Here's the incredible, world-changing, life-changing, impossible truth: as a Christian, we can never use the term "enemy" to describe another human being.
...
Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Everyone who is angry with his brother is liable to judgment.
Do not resist the one who is evil...turn the other cheek.
Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Father, forgive them: for they do not know what they are doing - Father, forgive us: we do not know what we are doing.
Friday, December 9, 2011
the atrocity exhibition
Being an "artist" (we're just skipping right over
the pretentiousness of the phrase) is hard stuff. Artist, to make art, to
express oneself through any given medium etc. It's a weird thing that so many
of the great artists had serious issues in life.
Jim Morrison expressed himself through music, specifically
poetry visa-vi singing lyrics. As his fame increased, as they gained more and
more spectators, he became increasingly hushed, introverted, and in many ways
unstable.
Edgar Allan Poe expressed himself through words, that is,
the English language visa-vi stories and poetry. He was ransacked with personal
issues the entirety of his life, overcome with grief at his young wife's death,
likely a drunkard who died very alone and in mysterious circumstances.
Vincent van Gogh expressed himself through visuals, by way
of putting ink onto a canvas. The extent of his mental health problems is
debated, but at the least we know he cut off his ear because he thought it
would be endearing to a dear woman – so there’s that.
Ian Curtis, again, expressed himself through music,
specifically poetry by way of lyrics. We’ll get back to him.
So what came first, the chicken, or the egg? Are crazy
people just drawn to art? Is the entire field of expression based solely on the
musings of humans who don’t function properly within the world?
There’s a song by Joy Division called “Atrocity Exhibition”.
Here are a few select lines from it.
Asylums with doors
open wide,
Where people had paid
to see inside,
For entertainment they
watch his body twist,
Behind his eyes he
says, 'I still exist.'
This is the way, step
inside.
This is the way, step
inside...
“This is the way, step inside.” Joy Division’s song title
(and thematic elements) are taken from a “novel” by J.G. Ballard. Ballard’s
novel focuses on a protagonist with a constantly changing name who is having a
severe mental breakdown. The character is deeply affected by the advent of mass
media, and in fact spends much of the novel trying to recast public events in ways
that personally impact him.
So what makes being an artist hard?
Ian Curtis, the lead singer of Joy Division, is casting
himself as the mass media event. He’s describing a play, or (more accurately)
an exhibition, a museum piece for people to come and watch with popcorn in their
hands.
An atrocity exhibition.
Because people don’t listen to Joy Division to see the
beauty of Ian’s soul on display. Neither do people read Edgar Allan Poe to
understand the humane depths of his heart, or connect with Van Gogh’s
uncompromised sense of normality and realism.
We line up and we pay money to watch a body twist.
For Curtis, being an artist meant putting the darkness of
himself on display. Letting people line up and peer into your very soul and
whistle, saying “That’s pretty dark.” And some, most in fact, walk away and
nod, pretentiously aloof and unfeeling and thinking “I’m glad I’m nothing like
that.”
When in fact…
Some, though, embrace the exhibition. They see themselves in
the man twisting on the floor, screaming incoherent nonsense. Their very souls
tell them “This is you, if only a little.”
Curtis puts himself on display, invites people to come in
and watch, and then hopes they take his musings and personally connect with
him. Because this would mean that he’s not alone.
The pain of being an artist: searching for someone as fucked
up as yourself. And if you find them, trying to tell them “I know you know this
is what it’s like.”
Atrocity on exhibition.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
jesus, meet dumbledore
Perhaps I only now sit down to write this out of some perverse loyalty to what this once was - maybe every year from now, as my birthday comes and goes, I'll return here to move the header up by one year and feel obligated to say a little something; like a speech. A speech to a vacant audience, in an old dusty theatre which never held sold-out crowds in the first place. A funny thing about a theatre like that - it ends up meaning more to the owner than it does to anyone who ever visited.
Well. Enough about that. What ideas have I ached to get out for some time?
I guess if there was an obvious place to start, it'd be concerning relationships. Not that I'm in one, obviously, but having exited a 2 1/2 year affair some seven or so months ago, I think my perspective on relationships has changed rather dramatically. While I'm obviously tempted to just claim that they're all futile and will only end in heartache, I don't particularly enjoy being that much of a Johnny Raincloud. I am more wary of them in general, and not just because of the 4+ months I've spent in relatively high(er) levels of depression: moreso because I keep seeing them fall apart around me.
Four. I've known of four couples to have their marriage fall apart...in the last two months. Four. That's eight people I know who had to deal with the heartache of learning that "the one" wasn't, in fact, "the one". Learning how freakish the human heart is, that within a year you can go from "I'd be willing to die for this person" to "I wish this person had never been born" (that's relatively tame in fact). So what do you do with, forgive me, shit like this?
What I want to do is condemn people for being too quick to rush into relationships. Us cynics look around and decide that people, as a general rule, become too quickly enamored. They find someone and look them up and down and say "This guy is perfect! There's nothing I can see in him which would get in the way of us leading a happy life together." We think they should say "This guy seems okay - what is there that would indicate to me that we can be together?" It's the difference between declaring victory because nothing's wrong and withholding victory until everything is right. This is my nature - things (including people) will always tend to be bad, unless they prove otherwise.
But that doesn't seem very Christlike.
Neither, might I add, does it seem Christlike to find everyone perfect, to declare every okay person you meet to be a saintlike, or to throw yourself into someone as their soul-mate just because you see nothing wrong with them.
Balance.
Jesus had a remarkable way of knowing how to hold people to a high standard without thinking less of them. Someone once told it to me this way: "He understood to prepare for the worst in people, but genuinely expected the best from them." Think Dumbledore - he knows, just like we all know, that certain "bad apples" will always make the wrong choice. He knows that most people will just do whatever their base desires tell them, and will act selfishly. He knows this, and he prepares for it. But he doesn't live like it. He's smart (in preparation), but he's also loving (in life). He always gives second chances, he always waits for the people to make the right choice, and he always loves them (even when they make the wrong choice).
Back to relationships. Somehow - and this is pretty hard - somehow, we're supposed to prepare for people being people. We're supposed to understand the risks, understand and prepare ourselves for everything falling apart in the blink of an eye. And we're still supposed to jump in.
Because the idea is, we're never really jumping all the way in. In a perfect relationship, I'm not devoting myself 100%, fully, irrevocably to another person. Me and another person are devoting ourselves 100%, fully, irrevocably to God. Together. With, and in, and through, and several other prepositions, each other.
So, surprisingly, neither the cynics nor the bright 'n cheery gang are right this time. We have to balance, and when we fail (as we will), we have to (sigh) run back to God. He'll, after all, be waiting.
Well. Enough about that. What ideas have I ached to get out for some time?
I guess if there was an obvious place to start, it'd be concerning relationships. Not that I'm in one, obviously, but having exited a 2 1/2 year affair some seven or so months ago, I think my perspective on relationships has changed rather dramatically. While I'm obviously tempted to just claim that they're all futile and will only end in heartache, I don't particularly enjoy being that much of a Johnny Raincloud. I am more wary of them in general, and not just because of the 4+ months I've spent in relatively high(er) levels of depression: moreso because I keep seeing them fall apart around me.
Four. I've known of four couples to have their marriage fall apart...in the last two months. Four. That's eight people I know who had to deal with the heartache of learning that "the one" wasn't, in fact, "the one". Learning how freakish the human heart is, that within a year you can go from "I'd be willing to die for this person" to "I wish this person had never been born" (that's relatively tame in fact). So what do you do with, forgive me, shit like this?
What I want to do is condemn people for being too quick to rush into relationships. Us cynics look around and decide that people, as a general rule, become too quickly enamored. They find someone and look them up and down and say "This guy is perfect! There's nothing I can see in him which would get in the way of us leading a happy life together." We think they should say "This guy seems okay - what is there that would indicate to me that we can be together?" It's the difference between declaring victory because nothing's wrong and withholding victory until everything is right. This is my nature - things (including people) will always tend to be bad, unless they prove otherwise.
But that doesn't seem very Christlike.
Neither, might I add, does it seem Christlike to find everyone perfect, to declare every okay person you meet to be a saintlike, or to throw yourself into someone as their soul-mate just because you see nothing wrong with them.
Balance.
Jesus had a remarkable way of knowing how to hold people to a high standard without thinking less of them. Someone once told it to me this way: "He understood to prepare for the worst in people, but genuinely expected the best from them." Think Dumbledore - he knows, just like we all know, that certain "bad apples" will always make the wrong choice. He knows that most people will just do whatever their base desires tell them, and will act selfishly. He knows this, and he prepares for it. But he doesn't live like it. He's smart (in preparation), but he's also loving (in life). He always gives second chances, he always waits for the people to make the right choice, and he always loves them (even when they make the wrong choice).
Back to relationships. Somehow - and this is pretty hard - somehow, we're supposed to prepare for people being people. We're supposed to understand the risks, understand and prepare ourselves for everything falling apart in the blink of an eye. And we're still supposed to jump in.
Because the idea is, we're never really jumping all the way in. In a perfect relationship, I'm not devoting myself 100%, fully, irrevocably to another person. Me and another person are devoting ourselves 100%, fully, irrevocably to God. Together. With, and in, and through, and several other prepositions, each other.
So, surprisingly, neither the cynics nor the bright 'n cheery gang are right this time. We have to balance, and when we fail (as we will), we have to (sigh) run back to God. He'll, after all, be waiting.
Friday, August 19, 2011
pro-tips for invading college freshmen
Writing about high school as though I were some 40 year old looking back on the vast expanse of my life and reminiscing about the days back when I didn’t care about anything feels silly. That being said, I aim to put forth here in a few sentences a few things I’ve learned since my time in that 4-year stupor ended, and since my eyes were blinded by the light of the real world.
1: There is no secret.
I’m opening with the big one, the one that I want no one (especially you high-schoolers) to miss. As a teenager, I used to look to adults and assume they knew something, some secret or piece of knowledge, which guided them through life, telling them exactly what to believe and how to act and what to do. Not all adults, but the smart ones, like my parents and my teachers and the president and what-not. Here’s the true secret: no one really knows anything.
Now, I know you may read that and think “Well, duh”, but you really have to believe that it’s true – no one really knows what they’re doing. A few people think they do, but they’re badly mistaken. Every adult you’ve ever known, from your parents to your friends parents to your teachers and maybe even a few friends, knows exactly as much about how to deal with life as you do. The only difference is they’ve had a few more mistakes to inform them of exactly what not to do – you have to start making mistakes before you know that. But you do that already, learning from your mistakes. It’s why you won’t go running after eating a bowl of pasta again after that miserable P.E. class in 9th grade. It’s why you won’t tell Anna what you think about other people anymore after she ratted out your rants to those you were ranting on. “Adults” just have the benefit of having had more time to do stupid things to learn from.
2: Don’t be terrified to question your faith or beliefs.
You’re going to college. If you’re not going to college, then you are (hopefully) at least going somewhere new and exciting.
Within this culture, it is often taken for granted that, when you finally leave the warm embrace of your home and venture out into the new, exciting, sometimes scary world, you will reject some of your parents’ beliefs. First things first: this is not necessarily a bad thing. Before I garner the intense hatred of every parent who reads this (including my own), note the “necessarily”. The act of changing your beliefs in and of itself means nothing – in fact, what it really means is that you’re forming your own opinions on things. And the fact is, it’s better for you to disagree with your parents with your own opinions than to “agree” with them by parroting what they believe.
That all being said though, don’t disregard your parents’ advice lightly. Remember what we said up there? They have made more mistakes than you. The sad fact is, most of the time your parents tell you something is a bad idea, it’s because they’ve already done what you’re about to try, and they know what will happen. It’s like in horror movies when the idiotic blonde girl is still going through the mansion, never turning around despite all the warning signs. You want to shout at her “TURN AROUND YOU COMPLETE IDIOT”, because you know the story. You know exactly what will happen to her, and it’s not good. So there you have it: you are your parents’ horror movie. Don’t be the ditsy blonde.
With faith specifically, my opinion has always been that if you’re faith isn’t strong enough to take some questioning, well, it’s not very strong then, is it? Be careful, though, of just getting one side of an argument and immediately giving up. Let’s say your professor offers irrevocable proof that God is not real. Okay, think about it. Digest it. But don’t give up on your faith just because you don’t have a response. Ask around. Talk to your parents, talk to your friends, talk to hip college pastors with weird facial hair. Really try to understand both points of view (one of my favorite things to do is to defend both sides of the argument).
But don’t be afraid for your faith to change. Don’t be afraid to make adjustments to it if you are convinced that it does not violate the basic truths you know. Which leads us into this:
3: Separate core beliefs from fringe beliefs before you go in.
It will make your life so much easier. The difference between core and fringe beliefs is that core beliefs you must be unwilling to compromise on. Fringe beliefs, on the other hand, are “doctrine”: church (extra-biblical) teachings that change all the time (e.g. the earth being the center of the universe used to be doctrine). Here’s a few examples to get you started.
Jesus was the Son of God: core, or fringe belief?
Genesis is a completely literal telling of the beginning of the world: core, or fringe belief?
The earth is 4000 years old: core, or fringe belief?
Obviously I’m catering to a very specific market of beliefs, but whatever your belief or belief system is, don’t be afraid to go through and mark off what you’d be willing to change presented with enough evidence and what you “intrinsically know”.
That seems like enough to get you started, right? I like this idea of protips for the invading freshmen, so I’ll keep you all posted as more things come to mind.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
restless
I feel my body dip between this world
and one I try to leave behind in night.
I fear the heaviness of here
Juxtaposed with there
There
There where I have no illusion of control
There where I careen through my inward visions
There where I relive my life, jumbled together
and mistaken for order by my mind
There were I need not fear this truth:
my consequences are results of my actions.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
on this vomitorium
I’d like very much to cite (read: scapegoat) quality control for my total lack of updates, but this strikes me as a profoundly unprofessional thing to do (namely, it assumes that what is already here is “quality”). I think I remember originally writing something about this being the equivalent of mental/emotional vomit upon that vast canvas we call the internet, so I really shouldn’t put forth these pretentious notions that what I write is necessarily beneficial to that infinite, dark canvas. It just is.
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