I usually have a lot to say about the books that are
on the 1001 Books to Read Before You Die
list, but in the case of The Talented Mr.
Ripley by Patricia Highsmith, I really don’t have much.
Tom Ripley is a rather unique antihero (a story’s
leading character that doesn’t have certain or all of the heroic virtues.) Ripley is a moocher, liar, whiner, and
coward, and an incredible opportunist.
During a vacation in Italy, he murders the friend he’s been staying with
and assumes the man’s identity, living off the fortune, reputation, and
possibilities.
I am glad I read it.
I was fascinated with this from a moral standpoint; by the end of the
book, Ripley gets away with it all, but I can’t help but think of the
cost. The fact is, when he was “living
the dream” of going to all these European cities and living in the high hotels,
getting the reputation he felt he earned, he never once seemed fully able to
truly enjoy any of it. In his mind, he
was just worried that he’d get caught.
But it becomes clear that it’s not capture that sickens him the most,
it’s the guilt he feels for his crimes.
The irony is that he won’t admit the guilty feeling and lies to himself
more than he lies to anybody else that he had no choice in the matter. So even by the end when it all works out well
for him, I just know this character will be looking over his shoulder for the
rest of his life.
This is what I like about crime fiction: the
audience is going to have to spend a lot of time in the heads of truly
horrible, awful monsters, but crime stories tend to be some of the most honest
tales told. After all the criminal goes
through and suffers in order to come out on top, the question I ask myself is,
Was it worth the cost? I can answer for
myself that it never is.
In that way, it was worth reading before I died.
***
There are a lot of movies I haven’t seen, even ones
that are considered classics. I’ve been
trying to remedy that situation, which is why when I saw Poltergeist in the library, I borrowed it immediately and watched
it that night.
Wow. Can’t
believe I never saw it before now. This
is probably the coolest ghost story I’ve ever watched (although I’d have to
re-watch The Sixth Sense before I
make final that decision.) I’m not one
who looks away from a movie over horror.
I will leave the room during moments of shame; embarrassment is a much
stronger emotion, and it’s why I have a hard time with certain comedies. I get to a point where I’m so embarrassed for
the characters on screen that I don’t want to be around them anymore. But leaving the room out of fear? No.
Very little bothers me. I usually
won’t even turn my head once.
Poltergeist
made me look away from the screen twice. I think it’s a The Turn of the Screw-effect.
Fear is always magnified when one child is in danger, and in this movie,
there are two children in danger.
Everybody else connected with the house is in danger, but what the
ghosts really want are the kids, and both times I looked away was when the children
were at the center of the screen.
Hard to watch, but so worth it, mostly for the
family. The majority of the horror genre
deals with flawed people, and I don’t mean in the “nobody’s perfect” sort of
way. I mean that there is a major sin
the victims’ are committing that almost makes them deserve their fate when the
monster comes out. That is not the case
in this movie. Somebody sinned, but it
was not the family. The parents love
each other and their children, and the kids are being raised right. They aren’t being punished for anything they
did, but they take those hard times and actually grow closer together.
***
I’ve been aware of Patrick Rothfuss for a
while. He’s only published two novels
and the third one is nowhere near completion as far as I’m aware, and yet he’s
become one of the most talked about names in the fantasy genre. I finally took the time to read The Name of the Wind and I’m happy to
say that it is worth the praise.
There’s plenty to make the fantasy audience happy;
rich worlds, original mythologies, magic, demons, dragons, poetry, and the rise
of a hero.
At its heart, though, this is a love story. I’m tempted to add a doomed love story. The hero Qvothe chases the wandering Denna
and never seems quite able to catch her.
Now, I’ll admit that I don’t care for the girl at all. I’ve met her type before, and yes, girls like
her a beautiful and exciting, and there’s plenty that has happened in their
past that you can only sympathize with them, but for all that, they are utterly
selfish. Denna goes through men like
they’re toilet paper and treats them about the same. The main reason no guy stays with her is
because they know it’s not worth putting up with her s—.
Yet the romance still works for me because of
Qvothe. In a lot of ways, his
experiences with women, love, feelings, and utter regard for chastity mirror my
own. Rothfuss has captured this aspect
of my personality—except for the fact that I am not nearly as suave.
This might only be true for this book. For all I know, Qvothe turns into a sex-pot
by the next book, The Wise Man’s Fear
(which I think is likely.) But for this
one, I am very much entranced and completely captured by this sweet moment of
young love.
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