As a fan of the BBC Sherlock show, I recently decided to read Aruthur Conan Doyle’s original mystery stories. I’ve never read any of them before except for “The Hounds of Baskerville” in a high school English class. I’m going to tackle them in chronological order of publication, so I started with A Study in Scarlet. Having finished this first book I can definitely see a lot of exact parallels between it and the first episode of the modernized BBC show, “A Study in Pink,” but also some obvious omissions or alterations.
Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson
The first episode starts off very similar to the beginning of the first book; John Watson is a recently returned military doctor, wounded in a war in Afghanistan. I’m not really familiar with the particular war that would have been going on at the time, but I think it’s too sad (that the region is still/again plagued by military unrest over 100 years later) for it to be cool that this factoid lines up perfectly with modern times. Anyway, everything about the way Watson and Sherlock meet and become roommates happens pretty much exactly the same way in the book as in the show, and one of the first things Watson learns about his soon-to-be companion comes up in this conversation between a mutual acquaintance and John Watson, about Sherlock Holmes:
Well, 2013 was not the best blogging year for me on here, was it? I’m way behind in writing up posts on the books I’ve read, but it’s a new year now so I have a fresh chance to do better in 2014. Here’s a summary of the books I read last year and a brief reaction to them. I still hope to post a full reaction to Allegiant soon, and a book-versus-movie comparison of The Book Thief.
In case you don’t want to read all my sub-cateogires, I’ll put my favorites first:
The 5th Wave by Rick Yancy. I read this book one Saturday while home alone and the first half of it scared me to death; it seemed like a pretty realistic possible scenario if an alien invasion was to happen on Earth. The latter half of the book got more cliche and predictable, but I like Cassie, the protagonists, and I’m still interested to see what happens next, although I’m not sure when the sequel is scheduled to be published.
Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. As a shy fangirl who is more outgoing online than in real-life social situations, this book’s protagonist was totally relatable to me. I’ve never really been into fanfic much but I am in multiple fandoms, I know these terms, I understand and partake in these obsessions. Plus, the Nebraska college-town setting was very similar to some of my own experiences in Kansas.
and i think that maybe it’s partly best explained by the answer Park gives in english class about the longevity of the story of Romeo & Juliet: “because people want to remember what it’s like to be young? and in love,” but this version is maybe a lot more relateable to an audience that isn’t part of a wealthy feuding italian family centuries ago, and to anybody that feels like kind of a misfit.
Rainbow Rowell is officially my new favorite author, not only because of her books but because of her twitter and tumblr which just made me instantly feel like “ah, yes, she’s one of us!“, which is too bad for David Iserson (author of Firecracker), because until I discovered Rainbow Rowell in the last weeks of December he would have been my choice for “favorite new YA author that I started twitter-following in 2013”. He’s snarky and witty and I did love his book but I feel like I could spazz out about Rowell’s books in real life in front of her and she would be like “I know, me too!” but if I did that about Firecracker in front of Iserson he might just be like “wow, ok…” or say something cynical.
When you read J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, did you think, “yeah this is a great story and all, but my favorite things are the character and place names! Everything else could be changed,”? If so, then Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug is the movie for you!
I suppose that summation may be a little overly harsh. But for the last two weeks I’ve been feeling guilty about deciding I wasn’t going to be able to do a whole spectacular costume and line party like I did last year for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, and as I sat in the theater last night I kept thinking wow, I’m glad I didn’t go all out for this one, because it would have been an embarrassing waste of time and energy and made the film an even more bitter disappointment. After the first Hobbit film came out I said I would reserve judgment on splitting the 300-page book into three extra-long films until I’d seen them all, but that’s no longer necessary. I can definitively state that it was a bad decision, and no matter how glorious the final installment may end up being, this middle movie, in which no substantial plot progress is made and there are no character arcs, should never have been made.
Biblo is terrified the movie will end before he gets substantial character development.
So I went to see Catching Fire on opening night with a group of friends. I’m tagging this write-up as “midnight showing” even though it was technically an 8 pm showing; most movies don’t really wait to premiere at midnight anymore, and although part of me thinks that’s a little sad, another part of me is getting old and appreciates not having to stay up so late. It was a good premiere; I wasn’t able to organize and prepare as much as I did for the first film, but we dressed up in Capitol fashion and the movie itself was, in my opinion, better than the first.
The thing about shows that start before midnight is there isn’t as much waiting-in-line time to fill, so I kinda over-prepared and we didn’t end up doing all the activities I had planned, but that’s alright since a lot of them didn’t take much effort. (For example, if we needed to kill time I thought we could play a version of the “telephone” game were you start with a phrase and whisper it from one person to another to see if it ends up the same at the end, but call it “mockingjay,” and use phrases like “Peeta has hot cross buns.”)
We did play the game that I spent the most time preparing for, which was Arena Trivia. Everyone playing was a Tribute in the Trivia Arena and started with a perfect 20 health. When it was their turn, they spun a wheel to see how lethal of a “weapon” question they would be able to wield against an opponent; easy questions were a knife and would only take five health points away if the Tribute they selected to aim the question at got it wrong, but harder questions were a machete (minus 10 health if missed) or near-deadly trident (minus 15). Tributes could form allies by helping someone else answer a question if they wished, but, in the end, there could only be one victor. The wheel also had a small wedge labeled “a gift from your sponsor”; if Tributes landed on that section when it was their turn, they could draw a healing card instead of a question that would give them back a portion of the health they had lost. (Most of the healing cards would only restore 5 health, but there were a couple 10s and 15s in there too). It worked really well, (except maybe I should have made some of the questions easier), and I’m pretty dang proud of how well themed it was. I think it’s totally marketable.
This Arena Trivia spin-wheel was made from a Twister game’s. The different levels of questions were printed on different colored paper and separated into pouches based on difficulty.
Each Tribute had one of these health bars to keep track of how close to “death” they were. They had to put a sticker on 5-point sections depending on how hard of a question they missed, but if they got a gift from a sponsor, they could cover a colored sticker with a white one to regain health.
Sugar cube prize bags that I handed out at the Catching Fire premiere. Other prizes included Catching Fire magnets and a grand prize of the soundtrack CD.
I really have very few negative things to say about the movie itself at all, which is pretty amazing given my tendency to be very nit-picky and critical. It stayed very close to the book with a surprising amount of dialogue coming verbatim from the pages Suzanne Collins wrote. The things that were skipped or condensed didn’t really alter any of the action or character development, (like Katniss figuring out what the spile is right away, and realizing what Wiress meant by “tick tock” faster, leaving out the bread drop communications and the prolonged healing from the poison fog scars, leaving out Bonnie and Twill because it was established through the visualization of the Victory Tour that there was an uprising and that Katniss was an inspiration to people, etc.), and like the first movie the elements in the film that were not found in the book added wonderful insight and depth to the story, (like President Snow’s granddaughter idolizing Katniss–that was genius! And I’m so glad we got to actually see the painting of Rue that Peeta did for the Gamemakers, to “hold them accountable, if only for a moment…for killing that little girl” as he says in the book, instead of just hearing about it.)
They even included a tiny visual reference to one of my favorite characters from the first film, Seneca Crane(‘s beard). When Katniss hung the dummy labeled with his name for her evaluation, she painted his signature swirly beard on it’s chin! I remember this being a common idea among the fandom after the first film, that oh, wouldn’t it be great if they really show her hang the Seneca dummy in the second film and they include the beard? To see it actually transpire that way on screen felt almost like it was a bit of an inside joke for the die-hard fans, whether or not they intended it that way. Speaking of amazing visuals, that mockingjay dress was spectacular. Even though I had seen most of that scene already in the trailer, I was blown away by how incredible it looked. Whereas Katniss’ flaming dress at the interview scene in the first film is a bit pathetic and too-obviously CGI, this time around I literally could not have imagined it better.
So far the only criticisms I can come up with are:
Prim’s “Katniss! Katniss! Katniss!” screaming at the Reaping is too shrill, but really, I thought that last movie too. Maybe that’s just the actress’s voice.
The music in some scenes was too exactly similar (or exactly the same?) to the score in the first film. It’s fine to reuse/recycle themes, but in a couple places it sounded 100% the same, like the Tribute Parade, (which is maybe understandable if they basically use the Panem national anthem for that every year), and the Victory Ball at the Capitol, (which really didn’t seem to match the music beat for dramatic beat effectively).
In the Arena, they establish that there is no fresh water source except for the trees, but then when Katniss, Peeta, and Finnick are leeching the poison from their bodies they are in what appears to be a freshwater pool, not the saltwater at the beach. I understand the change since it allows for the monkey attack to happen sooner, but it’s an inconsistency.
This isn’t really a criticism, more of a funny observance–why does Peeta stand up in the middle of his living room to watch TV? (When they are watching President Snow announce the Quarter Quell). Is it one of the tricks they tried to make us think he’s taller than Josh Hutcherson really is?
But really, almost everything was perfect. Effie was perfect, with her shallow growth and her gold hair! Finnick was lovely! Mags broke my heart with her warmth and sacrifice! Beetee melted my heart with his nerd-speak! Prim impressed me with her calm taking-charge to tend Gale. Plutarch Heavensbee, Haymitch, Cinna, (*sob* Cinna!) and Johanna were great. The whole thing was just spot-on! Peeta was still not as good as book-Peeta, but he was much improved over the last film’s bastardization of his character, and really all I can think about Peeta-wise right now is this. (Warning: that last link is a spoiler if you haven’t read Mockingjay yet).
I’ll definitely be going to see Catching Fire again. But now my movie-party-planning focus has to switch gears for The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug. It’s only a few weeks away!
I have become so disillusioned with this series. I was really into it at first, and I wanted it to become huge partly because I was so “in” from the beginning, but the sequel books didn’t really live up to the promise of the first installment, and although I didn’t hate the last book, (Allegiant), it wasn’t exactly as good as I had been hoping.
Meanwhile, I can’t get excited about this movie adaptation. Everything about the way they’ve marketed it so far screams “conformity to stereotypical Hollywood tropes and generic YA action movie themes that are the SAME as so many other things!”, which is so ironic given that they’ve simplified the storyline into “Tris is the hero because she’s DIFFERENT!” Like, look at this poster:
Really, guys? Really?
This poster makes me absolutely rage. WHAT IS THIS BUTT POSE AND CAN WE STOP MAKING IT A THING THAT WOMEN DO IN ACTION MOVIE POSTERS PLEASE!???!! And other than the birds and the Ferris wheel in the background, what about this poster is actually specific to this story as opposed to almost anything else? (Hint: nothing). Then there are the character posters that apparently you don’t get if your character is not in the Dauntless faction because they’re all about “guys, look tattooooos! Doesn’t this make our movie look badass (and one-dimensional?!) Never mind that the original story was partially about struggling with multiple virtues and which one if any should be most highly valued; TATTOOOOOOS!”
So now we have our first official trailer, and it has done nothing to lift my curmudgeonly spirits about this movie:
Theo James is definitely too old to be playing Four. His American accent is not consistent. Shailene Woodley as Abnegation Tris is wearing TOO MUCH MAKE-UP! Yes I know it’s a movie but they didn’t have to go overboard obvious with the mascara and eyeliner before she’s even transferred to Dauntless. I still don’t like the over-stylization of Four’s back tattoos.
OKAY FINE, I will not be a 100% Negative Nancy, there are some good moments in this trailer. Like when the Dauntless jump joyously off the train at 0:28, and the fear landscape drowning scene from 0:46-0:55, (although in this cut it looks like it’s the aptitude test), Tris jumping off the roof at 1:15, Four’s intense stare in the knife-throwing scene at 1:39.
If anything, the disappointing path the Divergent movie marketing has taken just makes me more impressed with Catching Fire which has been consistently killing it. Well, internet, am I the only Initiate not jazzed about this trailer? What did you think of it?
A new trailer was released today for X-Men: Days of Future Past. The first thing I noticed was that the music sounded familiar, and it only took a minute to confirm my suspicions (and boost my music-recognizing-ego); it’s totally the same song that was used for the Star Trek Into Darkness trailer. It’s a different arrangement and the music in the second halves of the trailers diverge after both have a moment where the music stops completely for a line of significant dialogue to land by itself (“Patience isn’t my strong suit” at 1:24 for X-Men:DoFP and “You think you’re safe…you are not” at 1:04 for STID), but it’s definitely the same song. Compare:
I like the vocals the in the STID version, but I think I have to give the edge overall to the music in X-Men:DoFP, because the last part of STID‘s music is just “BWAAAAM! BWAAAAM! BWAAAAM!”, but X-Men:DoFP‘s is a lot more musical, if admittedly generic. What do you think–which trailer uses the music better?
With every new piece of news, image, or interview related to the upcoming Divergent film adaptation of the book by Veronica Roth, I feel I’ve become more and more disillusioned with the whole thing. I haven’t been blogging about it much, because it feels mean and unproductive to post public rants about all the things that annoy me about the lead actress, but I assure you I’ve paid attention to the set photos, tweets, tumbls, everything. For a while I worried that maybe I was getting too old to appreciate the Young Adult genre anymore, but my excitement over the Catching Fire trailer and my enjoyment of the Mortal Instruments movie stilled those fears. I don’t think it’s me; I think this adaptation is subpar. Watch the trailer for yourself:
Well, first of all, even though I was originally excited about his casting, Theo James is too old to play Four. And it’s totally apparent in this trailer. In an interview at Comic-Con, Shailene Woodley reportedly said:
Theo James who plays the love interest in my film is 28, in the book his character is 18, but in the movie we’re making him about 24/25. He’s kind of ageless in a way. And even though in the book Tris is about 16, we never allude to the fact that she’s that young.
I am not okay with this. I don’t see how it will be possible not to “allude” to Tris’s age when the choosing ceremony that starts off the plot happens when citizens are 16. If they’re deciding Four is 24, he’s 8 years older than her and a creepy pervert for getting into a relationship with her, as opposed to book-Four who is only a year or two older than Tris. I don’t want to watch a man with giant muscle-arms punch people and kiss a young girl. I wanted to watch two teenagers, tougher than their bodies appeared, face difficult decisions and get butterflies when their hands touched.
Second, Tris is wearing way too much make-up. I suppose they’re projecting Christina’s makeover to last for the entirety of Tris’s Dauntless days, but the scene at the end where she looks up with eyes rimmed in black irritated me because Abnegation-born Tris just wouldn’t smear that stuff on to go to a training session. But I’ve seen nothing from this movie so far about Tris being Abnegation-born other than “she wears frumpy gray clothes and a bun at the beginning!” It’s too intent on selling me Tris as a badass Dauntless to remember she has aptitude for multiple factions and that’s why she’s Divergent in the first place.
Thirdly, why did they feel the need to embellish Four’s back tattoos with these totally unnecessary and meaningless bands on the sides? Is it because the costume designer wanted an extra outlet for their personal creativity? Is it because movie makers insist on visualizing characters differently from how they’re described in the books so that no pre-existing fanart or cosplay will be legitimized and fans will be more inclined to just buy the official replica merchandise they’ll be sure to market soon? (That’s what it feels like.) I just don’t see any reason for all that extra ink. Each of Four and Tris’s tattoos in the book are chosen with significance; they’re not in it for the body art. And what would have been so difficult about doing it like the book said, and like the fanart bellow illustrates?
Tris runs her fingers down Four’s faction symbol back tattoos in the Divergent trailer.
Four’s tattoos, by tumblr user chrysalisgrey (formerly ice-ridden).
I’m not making these grievances up out of thin air; I feel like they’re legitimate concerns. But the reason these flaws are so frustrating to me is that I really connected with the book. I identified with Tris, as someone who grew up in a very conservatively-dressing, emphasis-on-serving-others household but never felt like I was naturally good at the selflessness I was supposed to be enacting. When Tris self-consciously noted, taking off her jacket before her jump into the Dauntless hole, that it was the first time anyone had seen her in anything as revealing as her tight t-shirt, I vividly remembered the first times I wore a spaghetti strap shirt or a two piece swimsuit, in college after I had moved out and my parents couldn’t enforce their dress code anymore.
In the book, I loved the idea of asking what the value of virtues like honesty versus bravery or harmony is. As I’ve written previously, I loved the straightforward way that Tris and Four’s relationship develops. I loved the Dauntless manifesto’s assertions that “We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.” and “We do not believe that we should be allowed to stand idly by.” I loved that Four embraced the value of all faction virtues. I loved that Four said “I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren’t all that different.” I loved that sacrificing oneself for another was a repeated theme. I loved that Tris chose to get a tattoo of not only her chosen Dauntless but also her family heritage Abengation symbol, to recognize the value in where she came from, to acknowledge that while it wasn’t her choice to live within that strict code, she didn’t reject it entirely. I felt I could relate to that, too.
I don’t see any of what I liked about the book in this trailer. I see an attempt to market this as an ACTION MOVIE with FIGHTING and GUNS and DANGER OF BEING KILLED. Yes, it’s true that in the book, Jeanine is attempting to eliminate all Divergents, that others exposed as Divergent have been killed, and that if Tris’s condition is revealed she would be targeted as well. But that’s not what the story is about. At least not to me.
The best thing about the trailer is Kate Winselt’s villain (Jeanine Matthews), and that role is clearly being fleshed out more than it exists in Tris’s narration. But Four is too old. Tris is too defiant. (And ugh, this is nit-picking because I know this language use is common, so it’s fine, whatever, but it’s really irritating that she spits out “don’t try and define me!” instead of “don’t try to define me!”).
Ugh. I don’t know. Maybe I am really just an old curmudgeon these days. What do you think?
**This post contains spoilers for The Maze Runner**
The Maze Runner is being adapted to film. It will be interesting to see how the slang is handled on-screen.
When I read James Dashner’s The Maze Runner, there was pretty much only one element that I actually liked; the Glader slang. (Things I didn’t like included the tediously slow (and ultimately unsatisfactory) reveal of answers, the near-complete lack of character development, the inconsistency of the main character’s attitudes towards other characters (like “go away Chuck you’re so annoying!”-“Chuck you’re my new and only friend!”-“gah Chuck stop talking you’re so annoying!”), the way Thomas pats himself on the back for feeling the most basic empathy for his fellow human beings (“…he realized he was worried about the girl. Concerned for her welfare. As if he knew her.” Like you couldn’t be “concerned” for somebody who’s been in a coma for days? And then this part: “Thomas, concerned for Alby despite his recent ill-tempered ways…”, oh how big of you to be “concerned” when you find a person lying unconscious with a bloody gash on their head, “despite” the fact they’ve been moody or rude in the last 24 hours), the insistence to tell instead of show, things being brought up only to be dropped completely and forgotten later on (like the flag Thomas sees when he first enters the Glade but can’t make out it’s pattern because there’s no wind, and it’s never mentioned again, or the dog named Bark that follows him around for his tour of Slop duty but then is never mentioned again, not even when they’re holing up to fight against invading Grievers, which, wouldn’t a dog bark it’s head off and/or charge beasts attacking its masters?), the fact that when the situation is explained it still makes little to no sense, and the lack of female characters–especially when it’s revealed that the kids sent to the Glade were chosen because they “have above-average intelligence,” and I’m supposed to be okay with this representation of the smartest kids, humanity’s last hope, being all male?! What a bunch of klunk!)
But back to the topic at hand–when Thomas arrives in the Glade, his memories freshly wiped, he quickly learns that the residents of his new ‘home’ sprinkle their speech with their own unique slang, which he must learn in order to fit in. This is, of course one of the purposes of slang or jargon or “shibboleths”; to identify members of a social group, or to confer insider status to those “cool enough” to know the terminology and be able to use it correctly. If you don’t know the terminology at all, you’re a total outsider. If you know the terms but stumble finding acceptable contexts to use them in, you’re pretty clearly linguistically marked to those in the know as someone trying to fit in. Someone new. Someone who maybe hasn’t really earned their place in the group or carved out an identity yet. Someone like Thomas. The linguistic markers of social status might be even more important in a setting like the Glade, where there is very little to go on otherwise. For survival purposes, everyone is forced to share labor, food, and sleeping areas, nobody has access to ‘cool’ clothes or accessories, nobody can remember if they had famous parents or tournament trophies or straight As or a girlfriend before the Glade. Everyone has to start over finding a new social footing by navigating the new slang terms.
The real reason for the Glader slang, of course, is so that the characters can curse in a manner that won’t be objectionable for a young audience to read. So it’s kind of disappointing, because the Glade-specific language conventions could have been more complex and interesting, and designed by the author in a way to give more insight to the community, but we’ll just have to be content with what we’ve got.
I suppose that Grievers, Creators, Greenie, Sloppers, Runners, Keepers, Builders, Bricknicks, Baggers, Track-hoes, Slicers, and Med-jacks all count as Glader slang, but they’re pretty self-explanatory (if largely unnecessary), so I’m just going to focus on defining by examples “shank”, “klunk”, “shuck”, and “good that.” Thomas hesitantly uses the latter phrase during an exchange with his assigned buddy, where he also explicitly references the fact that he’s unfamiliar with the terminology. (I’m labeling this excerpt and all others to be included in this post,as well as including page numbers which are from the version with ISBN 978-0-375-89377-3).
(1) “You’ll learn a lot in the next couple of days, start getting used to things. Good that?”
“Um, yeah, good that, I guess. Where’d all these weird words and phrases come from, anyway?” It seemed like they’d taken some other language and melded it with his own.
Chuck flopped back down with a heavy flump. “I don’t know–I’ve only been here a month, remember?” -p. 34
Thomas’ observation isn’t very linguistically astute–come on, dude, it’s a handful of terms, not a melding of two phonetic, syntactic, morphological etc. systems, or “languages”. Acquiring Glader slang is a simple matter of observing the examples provided throughout the book.
This term appears to be just a general term for “person”. It’s derogatory, (the neutral term for “person” is Glader and just refers to the fact that’s where they all live), but can be endearing, such as in (3). Perhaps most interestingly, Newt uses it in (9) to refer to the Creators, so it can apparently be used to refer to entities outside the Maze as well. (Go ahead and call each other shanks, Maze Runner fans!) Also interesting to note is the exchange in (7), which highlights the fact that Thomas is still acquiring Glade-speak, both in his pause before and over-emphasis of the term “shank” and in Newt’s response of laughing and referring to him as a “Greenie”. There’s also an example of “shank” in (15), under the section for “shuck”.
(2) “It’s a long story, shank,” -p. 8
(3) “Chuck’ll be a good fit for ya,” Newt said. “Wee little fat shank, but nice sap when all’s said and done. Stay here, I’ll be back.”
(4) “Beetle blade,” the boy said, pointing to the top of the tree. “Won’t hurt ya unless you’re stupid enough to touch one of them.” He paused. “Shank.” He didn’t sound comfortable saying the last word, as if he hadn’t quite grasped the slang of the Glade. -p. 13
(5) “This shank probably klunked his pants when he heard old Benny baby scream like a girl. Need a new diaper, shuck-face?” -p. 17
(6) Thomas shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. The…shank deserved it, and I don’t even know what a shank is. That was awesome.” He felt much better. -p. 33
(7) “Well, it’s kind of stupid to send me to a place where nothing makes sense and not answer my questions.” Thomas paused, surprised at himself. “Shank,” he added, throwing all the sarcasm he could into the syllable.
Newt broke out into a laugh, but quickly cut it off. “I like you, Greenie. Now shut it and let me show ya something.” -p. 37
(8) Thomas looked at Newt sharply, hurt by the rebuke. “You think I do things to impress you shanks? Please. All I care about is getting out of here.” -p. 260
(9) Newt shook his head back and forth, staring at the ground. Then he looked up, took in the other Keepers. “The Creators–those shanks did this to us, not Tommy and Teresa. The Creators. And they’ll be sorry.” -p.309
Chuck provides a clear definition and an etymology for this term in (12). The usage in (10) is weird, (he’s a poo? Not “piece of klunk/poo”? Maybe klunk is a count noun, even though poo is a mass noun?), and I think the construction is kind of forced because the author wanted to overwhelm Thomas (and readers) with as much slang as possible when the Box door opens. Also, note in (13) another explicit reference to Thomas’ acquisition of Glader slang.
(10) “I told ya, shuck-face,” a shrill voice responded. “He’s a klunk, so he’ll be a Slopper–no doubt about it.” The kid giggled like he’d just said the funniest thing in history. -p. 6
(11) “Whacker, if we told you everything, you’d die on the spot, right after you klunked your pants. Baggers’d drag you off, and you ain’t no good to us then, are ya?” -p. 10
(12) “We live here, this is it. Better than living in a pile of klunk.” He squinted, maybe anticipating Thomas’s question. “Klunk‘s another word for poo. Poo makes a klunk sound when it falls in our pee pots.” -p. 15
(13) The second hour was spent actually working with the farm animals–feeding, cleaning, fixing a fence, scraping up klunk. Klunk. Thomas found himself using the Glader terms more and more. -p.78
I think this was the most inconsistent of the Glader slang terms introduced in the book; it most often appears as the insult “shuck-face” (in examples (5) and (10) above as well as several below,) or the expletive “shuck it,” but in examples (23) and (24) it used as an adverb and verb participle, respectively. It seems obvious what real-world English expletive it’s substituting for, which is why it’s so weird that on page 334 Minho uses “freaking”, another PG derivative of the same real-world expletive, where presumably “shucking” would have been acceptable, especially judging by the example in (23). Minho’s utterance that Alby “freaking sacrificed himself for us–” is the only instance of “freaking” in the entire book, and seems out of place.
The construction in (14) is another unusual example like the one in (10), and it also appears in the same scene of Thomas’ entry to the Glade. I don’t know why it doesn’t just say “shucking neck” instead of bare “shuck”, but there aren’t any examples (that I noticed) of “shucking” as an adverb.
(14) “Look at the Greenbean,” a scratchy voice said; Thomas couldn’t see who it came from. “Gonna break his shuck neck checkin’ out the new digs.” -p. 5
(15) “Shuck it,” Alby said, rubbing his eyes. “Ain’t no way to start these conversations, you get me? We don’t kill shanks like you here, I promise. Just try and avoid being killed, survive, whatever.” -p. 9
(16) “Pipe it, shuck-face,” Alby grunted, pulling Newt down to sit next to him. -p. 9
(17) “Shuck it,” he said. “Can’t the bloody Med-jacks handle that boy for ten minutes without needin’ my help?” -p. 12
(18) “The Changing!” Gally shouted from below. “Look forward to it, shuck-face!” -p. 19
(19) “I’m gonna kill you, shuck-face!” Gally yelled, but Chuck was already off the box and running toward the open Glade. -p. 31
(20) Newt let out a long sigh. “Shuck it. But that’s not really what has me buggin’.” p. 107
(21) “You don’t understand, shuck-face! You don’t know anything, and you’re just making it worse by trying to have hope! We’re dead, you hear me? Dead!” -p.117
(22) Thomas rolled his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend, shuck-face.”
“Wow,” Chuck said. “You’re already using Alby’s dirty words.” -p.281
(23) “She’s right, Chuck–you saved us, man! I told you we needed you!” Thomas scrambled to his feet and joined the other two in a group hug, almost delirious. “Chuck’s a shucking hero!” -p. 347
(24) The sense of normalcy was almost overwhelming. Too good to be true. Minho said it best on entering their new world: “I’ve been shucked and gone to heaven.” -p. 368
See also example (1) from above. This was my favorite, because it’s clearly a new construction whose correct use is crucial in ingratiating oneself with the Glade hierarchy, but it’s not actually new words. It signals agreement or consent. I never saw it used as a blanket positive, like somebody eating one of Frypan’s meals and declaring it “good that!”, which would have been fun, but then we’re not really given much non-plot-centric dialogue.
(25) Thomas fumed, wanted to punch somebody. But he simply said, “Yeah.”
“Good that,” Alby said. -p. 10
(26) “If I can convince those shanks–and that’s a big if–the best time to go would be at night. We can hope that a lot of the Grievers might be out and about in the Maze–not in that Hole of theirs.”
“Good that.” Thomas agreed with him–he just hoped Newt could convince the Keepers. -p.317
I wasn’t paying much attention to instances of “slinthead” while I read, so I don’t know if I am missing some, but it appears to be an insult. As for “slim”, I don’t remember seeing it anywhere except as an order to Thomas from Alby when he first arrives in the Glade (27).
(27) “Just slim yourself nice and calm.” -p. 6
(28) “And stay away from me, you little slinthead.” -p. 19
(29) “Ain’t you got a job, slinthead?” Alby asked. “Lots of sloppin’ to do?” -p.41
I am curious to know whether the slang persists in the sequel, The Kill Order, since by the end of The Maze Runner the main characters have escaped the maze and are in a different setting surrounded by strangers. It would be my guess that Glader slang would become even more important in this situation, as a way for the boys to self-identify as a cohesive group when their circumstances no longer reflect it so obviously. On the other hand, some of the boys might drop the slang or pick up/invent new slang as a way to reject having the identity of test-subject Glader forced upon them, or as a way to try to gain access to a new social group, if they decide they identify with their “rescuers”, or with WICKED. Either way, though, I don’t think I’m actually curious enough to read the second book.
A few months ago I read Tiger Lily, a book by Jodi Lynn Anderson that offers a new perspective on the Peter Pan story, narrated by nearly-literal fly-on-the-wall Tinker Bell. I gave it four out of five stars, but as much as I enjoyed it I will always prefer the mythology of J. M. Barrie’s original work to the alternative, more realistic universe that this story offered. There are still faeries and mermaids, but Peter and the Lost Boys don’t really fly. Wendy arrives by ship instead of flying, and is portrayed (unfairly, in my mind) in a negative light, almost a complete ditz instead of a creative story-teller who wants to mother everybody but is also brave in the face of pirates. Peter is 16, feels conflict, remembers betrayals, and doesn’t still have his baby teeth. People in Neverland age, but not uniformly. As Tink describes in the first chapter,
You never could tell when someone would stop growing old in Neverland. For Tik Tok, it had been after wrinkles had walked long deep tracks across his face, but for many people, it was much younger. Some people said it occurred when the most important thing that would ever happen to you triggered something inside that stopped you from moving forward, but Tik Tok thought that was superstition. All anyone knew was that you came to an age and you stayed there, until one day some accident or battle with the dangers of the island claimed you. Therefore sometimes daughters grew older than mothers, and granchildren became older than grandparents, and age was just a trait, like the color of your hair, or the amount of freckles on your skin.
As we learn in the prologue, Tiger Lily stops aging sometime around age 15, which is her age throughout the majority of this story and throughout the beginning and end of her relationship with Peter Pan. Tinker Bell prefers to theorize this tragically ended first love experience that was the most significant thing to happen in Tiger Lily’s life.
I don’t know Tiger Lily stopped growing older; I can’t pinpoint the moment. But I do know I never saw her visibly age beyond the days when she was with Peter. I like to think her growing stopped the day they were on the plateau, watching the horses. Sometimes I can almost convince myself that on the ridge that night, I actually heard her bones grinding to a halt, her skin pause, because that simple day was the most important thing that would ever happen to her. Just an afternoon, when nothing amazing occurred, except that she felt completely happy and completely at home.
This fixation on a young romance as all-important was one of the things that I most disliked about this book. Not that I don’t understand the point–when my first boyfriend dumped me just after I turned 16, I developed disordered eating as a coping mechanism that persisted until I went to counseling for it in college. So, I get it. I get that those first experiences play a major role in shaping who you become. It’s just, I don’t think it’s the romance itself that’s as important as how you deal with the aftermath, and even then it may not be as significant as how you navigate other situations.
For example, in the case of Tiger Lily, I submit that realizing she let down Tik Tok by not being around to prevent the tribe from siding with Philip in pressuring the shaman to cut his long hair and throw out his dresses may have had a greater impact on a young girl deciding what kind of person she wants to be than some make-out sessions with a flirtatious woodland scamp. Maybe Tiger Lily stopped aging when she tried to nurse Tik Tok back to health, and told him she was sorry. Maybe it was when she decided to chop her own hair in solidarity with the wrongs done to her adopted father and elicited help from Pine Sap in driving out the Englishmen.
Or, if the halting of her aging really was connected to Peter Pan, then I think it should be when she has a change of heart and risks her life to rescue the stranded Peter and Wendy from drowning in the lagoon, fighting mermaids to the death to give her rival and the boy she stole a chance to live, after having played a part in condemning them to die. Because she’s realized that maybe it isn’t Wendy’s fault, and that as much as he hurt her she doesn’t really want Peter dead. That’s a significant step of maturity that shouldn’t be possible if she had stopped growing older weeks before, a moment of agony in her heart that I think is more powerful than a moment of happiness shared with Peter. The human heart tends to grow more through pain than pleasure, and character is built from choices of action, not experiences of emotion.
What do you think? Do you agree with Tinker Bell’s assessment that Tiger Lily stopped aging when she was happy with Peter Pan, or do you think it was one of the moments of defining action that I’ve mentioned above? Let me know in the comments.
I saw Sofia Coppola’s The Bling Ring last night, and I loved it. It captures a based-on-real-events drama that, in the director’s words, “is so contemporary, it’s really a story that could only happen today.”
I thought it was both funny and a sad a cultural condemnation, but only because it so brazenly exposed the obsession with superficial values that most of us are implicit in encouraging. .
What I loved most were the insights through the little things; details like ringleader Rebecca wobbling in her heels when she’s walking away from casually robbing unlocked cars on the street. And the collage of celebrity pictures cut from magazines that were plastered all over a wall in her room.
I did think it was a little strange (or maybe sad is a better word) that the kids kept referring to gossip blog dlisted.com to find out when celebrities were out of town; I mean, I find it sad that they could be avid readers of dlisted.com, which is written with a very snarky tone towards celebrities, continually mocking them, and not have that attitude alter their idolization of the stars. Are they just too dumb to realize it’s negative attention, or do they crave and envy the attention to so much they don’t care? I suspect it’s some of both. After all, their idol Paris Hilton’s house is decorated seemingly entirely with pictures of herself. And when they go out clubbing, they seemed only interested in posing for selfie after selfie. I wish I had been keeping a tally of how many pictures they took of themselves.
Nicki complains that Marc is “stressing me out” when he’s worried about security footage of their exploits being on the news. Because none of them seem capable of processing how their actions might affect anyone else or their own futures, and nothing is more important in this moment than that Nicki not feel the burden of stress.
I laughed at lot throughout the movie, mainly at vapid or unbelievably self-centered dialogue from Emma Watson’s character Nicki. The actress has talked about how she prepared for the accent partly by watching hours of reality television, and I noticed an awful lot of vocal fry in her lines, which is totally on-point. I thought she pretty much nailed the accent, except in some of the scenes when she was speaking very quietly her natural accent peeked through a little bit. Like when her mom asks if she got a new dress at the dinner table and she makes up an answer to cover for the fact that it’s stolen, she drops the -r in “my manager”. But overall she was very good. My favorite lines by her included “Your butt looks awesome,” “Let’s go to Paris’s, I wanna rob,” “You’re stressing me out”, and everything in her statement to the press outside the courtroom (“I wanna lead a country one day for all I know”) and in her Vanity Fair interview scene, (“Mom! Shut up! It’s MY interview!”)
But despite all that laughter, I also found much of the film to be incredibly sad, like Marc confessing his constant worry that he wasn’t attractive enough to be liked. “I know I’m not ugly but I never saw myself as an A-list-looking guy.” I just wanted to tell him “oh, honey, almost nobody has genes that good, don’t make that the standard you compare yourself to!” It’s the same heartache from chasing unattainable body-image standards that so many young girls feel trying to look like the photoshopped-into-impossibilities images in magazines.
And in the scene where they break into Lindsey Lohan’s house, and the camera lingers on Rebecca spritzing herself with LiLo’s perfume and admiring herself in the star’s mirror while her eyes fill with tears and Marc’s voice-over states that this was her highlight, all I could think was how utterly sad and pathetic it was that the moment that made her happiest was pretending to be somebody else. She was an amoral, selfish a-hole, but I still felt bad for her, the emptiness of her dreams, and the futility of trying to adopt an identity that isn’t yours instead of just accepting and being yourself, in that moment.
The scene where Sam flippantly handles the gun that they find under Brian Austin Green and Megan Fox’s bed made me incredibly uncomfortable, because she seems to have absolutely no concept of how dangerous it is, that the instrument she’s holding could permanently maim her friends with the slightest slip, or even kill them. And she just thinks the fact that Marc is bothered with this realization is funny. It’s a pretty perfect metaphor for the reckless behavior the Bling Ring kids exhibit throughout the film, with no thought to the possibility of consequences.
And I love that the last shot is a fresh-from-truncated-jail-sentence Nicki, on a talk show, looking straight at the camera and shamelessly self-promoting her website. She has apparently learned nothing. But hopefully the audience has.