"The Cherokees: A Population History" by Russell Thornton

In contrast to my previously reviewed book, this is a thoroughly scientific, thoroughly unbiased study of the Cherokees.

  The Cherokees: A Population History by Russell Thornton
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Also unlike the previous book, it's a very dry read, as it consists mostly of numbers. Unfortunately the scope is very narrow, not that that's atypical for an anthropological study. The book only covers enough history to explain how there came to be so many different groups of Cherokees beginning in the 19th century. He cross-indexes population points reconstructed from the historical record with major events or important periods of change in Cherokee history. As a student of Cherokee history, this is nice (and certainly a substantial contribution to the complete understanding of the Cherokee) but as a book reader, it's both hard going and a bit thin. It would have been nice if this was coupled with a study in changing subsistence patterns that was occurring as well.

 He has an interesting chapter about exactly who is a Cherokee in current times. It's a more complicated issue than it sounds like, and he has an interesting insight into why everyone seems to think they have a Cherokee grandmother.

 This is a work by an anthropologist, and it is basically for anthropologists and historians. If you don't have any anthropological background, or are looking for a general history of the Cherokee people, this will be even harder going than it is for those of us with that education. Still, it's worth checking out as it does add to the corpus of knowledge of the Cherokee people.

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"The Cherokees" by Grace Steele Woodward

Wow, I can't believe it's been this long since I last posted a book review! I'm still reading books, I guess I was just preoccupied with other things. Anyway, I've got a new one for you. I guess it's not really a coincidence that this one is also about Cherokees, since these poorly-written books keep angering me this much. Cross-posted from my Goodreads account: The Cherokees by Grace Steele Woodward
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

This book is a great example of the ethnocentric viewpoint that many sympathetic white Americans had towards Native American cultures, and which in some cases persists into current times. Up until modern times, there were very few people who accepted that Natives and Native cultures had the same right to exist as colonists and their self-labelled "white" culture. While there were plenty of sympathizers, their sympathy mostly took the form of trying to rid the Indian of his "savage" nature. "Savage" is a word that occurs many times in this book, always directed at Cherokees. Grace Steele Woodward's position is best exemplified by he of "Kill the Indian, and Save the Man" fame, Captain Richard Pratt.

This feeling of superiority, this ethnocentrism, is pervasive throughout the book. I'll give the final paragraph of the book as an example. The paragraph before this talks about the progress and achievements the Cherokees have made.

"But the coin has two sides. After statehood, full-blood Keetowahs retreated to the flinty hillsides and valleys in eastern Oklahoma, where they sought to keep alive ancient tribal traditions and by this method shut out reality. Eastern Oklahoma Cherokees have yet a long road to travel, if they are to overtake the more progressive members of their proud race. But they may yet throw aside their present lethargic habits, abandon their listless contemplation of the future, and, like Sequoyah, explore the unknown. For, given the proper incentive, no mountain, it seems, is too high to climb, no current too swift to swim, if one is a Cherokee."

I'm not going to list all the problems with that paragraph alone, but the sentiment should be clear enough. Whiter is better, and those people who choose not to blend in with white society have only themselves to blame for not being successful like their mixed-blood relatives. The book starts out similarly patronizing.

While this may not be as difficult a read for a reader who is not as sensitive to the insulting tone of the book, it makes for hard going for someone who is or is descended of one of those "full-blood Keetowahs" who "shut out reality".

Getting past all that however, the book does have some merit as a history. Unfortunately, not enough books have been written about Cherokee history for there to be a clearly superior volume to this one. Many of them deal with specific periods in history, notably the Trail of Tears (not that it shouldn't be written about and remembered, but seriously, our story's not over yet) or the American Civil War. And many of them don't deal with the earliest history. James Mooney's James Mooney's History, Myths, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees does deal with the early history, but his was written about 1900 and so leaves a large gap for any current reader. At least Woodward's carries on past the Dawes allotment act. While it actually ends in the early 1900s, she does mention some notable names in Cherokee history up into the 30s.

The main problem with the historical aspect of this book is that because it is biased, the author assumes some things that aren't or may not be true. She insists that the early Cherokee were savage and warlike, but the historical record does not support that the Cherokee were especially hostile. They welcomed English and French traders and there were no massacres to be heard of. This is not to say that the Cherokee were especially peaceful. They did their fair share of fighting. But this bias may mislead a less-informed reader to think that the Cherokee were especially warlike in comparison to their neighbors (both white and Indian), when this is not true.

As far as writing, the author isn't really a bad writer, but not especially compelling either. Her prose form is fine, but the fact of the matter is that a lot of explanations of events is lacking. She doesn't normally give birth and death dates for individuals, and often the reader loses track of what year is being discussed as her narrative can jump back and forth.

It should be noted that the author was not a scholar. The ethnocentric viewpoint she embraced as a writer was out of fashion in anthropology well before 1963. In the Journal of American Indian Education she was called "an energetic and gifted housewife". Her bio here notes a college education but not a degree, and not in either history or anthropology. Dedicated student of American Indians she might have been, but not a scholar. I don't say this to say that a lay person cannot write a good history, but that in this case it was obviously detrimental.

In short, I would not suggest this book as a starting point for learning about Cherokee history. Mooney, despite being old, is a good place to start, but there are plenty of more modern books about the Cherokee to read that take advantage of previous research and more modern methods.

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Another terrible book about Indians by white Christians

This book is as bad as the cover looks. And that lady looks like Famke Janssen, not any Cherokee I've ever seen. This may not be evident from the cover, but this book is set before and during the Trail of Tears, which means the cover depicting some lady in possibly a Sioux dress out on the plains is just ridiculous, as Tennessee has no plains to speak of and Cherokees had their own clothes. The writing is horrible, the factual errors numerous, and the fact that this is a Christian book makes it even less believable. The first review on the Amazon page details some of the historical mistakes, but trust me, there are plenty more. In short, another terrible book about Indians written by white people.

300 by Frank Miller and Lynn Varley

Well, it's been a long while since I last posted anything, but I assure you that's because I was too busy doing worthwhile things like rediscovering the joys of Diablo II. But anyway, I'm back, and this time I'm going to take on the task of trying to get to the meaning behind the meaning of the book and movie 300. I'll clarify what I mean eventually, but we have to get some things out of the way first.

First, I liked the book. I enjoy most of Frank Miller's well-known works such as Sin City, Ronin and Batman: The Dark Knight Returns. Second, I loved the movie. It's ridiculous how much I loved the movie. That being said, from here on out I am neither criticizing the book nor apologizing for it. I'm going to try to analyze it without succumbing to a knee-jerk reaction to see it as an insulting, racist, homophobic allegory or as a meaningless ode to the ultimate masculine ideal. In truth, it may be a bit of both, but we'll get to that.

I'm going to assume familiarity at least with the movie on the part of anyone reading this blog. That will be sufficient to examine the book as well, given that the movie is a stated attempt at a shot-for-shot live-action version of the book. I'll begin with a look at the historicity of the book. This at least is historically accurate: s a small army of Spartan soldiers under King Leonidas I did indeed fight a huge Persian army at Thermopylae (literally "hot gates"). Other than that, the book deals with history pretty fast and loose. I will not even try to point out every instance of incorrectness, but I think a few examples will be instructive (and any scholars reading, please forgive my own inaccuracies). First, and perhaps most important, is the characterization of Spartan society as some kind of democracy, especially one where women are equal. There were three classes of Spartan society (setting aside the issue of women entirely): Spartans proper, Perioikoi (skilled labor but free) and Helots (basically slaves). There was a 7-1 ratio of Helots to Spartiates according to Herodotus. To make a long story short, the only reason Spartans were professional soldiers is because keeping the Helots oppressed was a full-time job that required the dedication of every single adult male Spartan to it. So, democracy? Not so much. Another example is that King Leonidas was only one of two hereditary kings, neither of whom had great authority over the state. That power was wielded by the Gerousia, a council of elders which the kings belonged to. And even then, any proposals from the Gerousia had to be voted on by the citizenry (adult males only, of course). Two more examples, briefly: homosexual activity was at the very least as normal for Spartans as any other Greeks of the time, and Leonidas did not lead his men to battle in defiance of his government, he led them under orders from the Ephors (those guys depicted as twisted freaks and perverts in the movie).

So what difference does it make, you may say. It's a movie based on a comic which is a wildly inventive telling of the story. Indeed, I have no problem with this. If you try to learn history from comics, don't be surprised when your history teacher deducts points because you talk about how The Immortals were mutants and the Spartans fought wearing no armor because the sight of their pecs made enemies afraid. I don't expect comics to tell us the true story, that's what history books are for. But as usual, some of the audience for the film read a deeper meaning into the story than was apparent to the rest of us. The question is, is there any justification to their interpretation of the film/book?

In the case of Zack Snyder, I don't believe he had any motive whatsoever except to make the coolest, most awesome action film he could. And as far as I'm concerned, he did. Whatever moral there was to the story, he had nothing to do with putting it there. Miller, on the other hand, is problematic. It's hard to argue he doesn't have some kind of agenda, especially based on this oft-quoted remark:

Nobody questions why we, after Pearl Harbor, attacked Nazi Germany. It was because we were taking on a form of global fascism, we're doing the same thing now ... It seems to me quite obvious that our country and the entire Western World is up against an existential foe that knows exactly what it wants.... For some reason, nobody seems to be talking about who we're up against, and the sixth-century barbarism that they actually represent. These people saw people's heads off. They enslave women, they genitally mutilate their daughters, they do not behave by any cultural norms that are sensible to us. I’m speaking into a microphone that never could have been a product of their culture, and I'm living in a city where 3000 of my neighbors were killed by thieves of airplanes they never could have built".

It's not readily apparent exactly who Miller is talking about, although based on the other brief part of the transcript you can read here it would not be unjustified to assume that he is condemning categorically any culture which is Islamic. Could he be speaking narrowly about the Taliban? Given that in the rest of the conversation he appears to be talking about the War on Terror in Bushian terms, no, I don't think so. Why it's helpful to that point of view for the enemy to be a vague, formless mass is a topic for another blog, but when it becomes necessary to actually identify any terrorists, the presumption is that they're Islamic Middle-Easterners (which happens to erroneously include such non-Arab people as Iranians and Afghanis).

But just because a person holds ridiculous, offensive, or just plain crazy personal beliefs is no reason to disparage their writing or even assume a hidden message espousing their political, religious, moral or whatever agenda. If that was the case I simply couldn't read Orson Scott Card or John C. Wright, but I happen to really like at least some of their work (and if I don't like anything it's mainly because I think it's not a good story). This is not to say that it doesn't happen. After all there is Ayn Rand and John Ringo (or so I hear, I haven't actually read any of his books). Not that it doesn't creep in now and again, but usually it's just not that blatant. What about Frank Miller then? It's hard to say. Perhaps some elements of his viewpoints do come through. Honestly, the book and movie seem more like an homage to flawless male bodies than anything else. For all the dribble about "free men" and tyranny, there's not much dialog that really tries to persuade the reader of anything. Far more important are the depictions of death on a massive scale and the rending of flesh on a much more personal level. The violence is so excessive and over the top compared to just about anything else you'll see in a comic that the overt message can't be anything but simply "enjoy violence!" Second to that is the glorification of these perfect warriors, these iconic men of iron will and iron thews, the crimson-clad Spartans. It's not simply that the Spartans are glorified, it's that, if anything, they are held up as the model for all manhood. Seriously, this movie is a love song to perfect abs and that most male of sports, war.

Then again, there is much dialog devoted to the supposed clash of civilizations. That is, on the one hand, the Western Greeks with their logic and philosophy and dedication to (semi)democratic governance and on the other hand the Eastern Persians with their magic, superstition, and tyranny. Now seeing this in the context of Miller's view of the modern conflict of civilizations, it is truly hard not to make a connection.

Is there a parallel between Persia in Miller's 300 and modern Islamic terrorists? That can be, and should be, divided into two different questions. If there is a parallel, is it deliberate or not? And if there is not a parallel, then why are the Persians depicted as freaks, degenerates, barbarians, and perverts? Others have drawn their own conclusions about this (read opinions here and here). There are some good points about the issue to be found in the writings of others, but I just feel that stating that Miller's is a world where white = good and dark = bad is just too simplistic. The Greeks are not, as some might like to say, "white" and especially are not Aryan white. They are depicted as lighter than the Persians, which may be accurate in some cases, but given the lax treatment history gets from Miller, I actually wouldn't be surprised to find that he really thinks Persians were Arabic or something.

So is there deliberate racism in this book? I don't know that there's any clear answer to that. It would seem, based on his own comments, that Miller subscribes to some of the modern stereotypes blithely asserted about the Muslim/Arabic/Middle Easter world by ignorant right-wingers. I also suppose it depends on what one defines racism as these days. Beginning several hundred years ago, it was commonly accepted that there were biological differences between groups of people, even though the science of biology was crude and they couldn't really understand why some people were darker or lighter. These races were based on such external features as skin color, hair type, eye shape, etc, but also consisted of internal features such as temperament and intelligence. This was not the basis for discrimination against African-Americans in the US, but provided a handy explanation. Now, of that kind of racism I don't think exists much anymore. However, plenty of people still hold onto stereotypical beliefs about the other "races" and unfortunately don't think to question the validity of those beliefs. I think Miller falls into that category: racist in the fact that he basically stereotypes an entire ethnicity.

But to bring that back to 300: is 300 Miller's racist manifesto against the Arab people? I don't think so. I think 300 reflects his ideas of civilization against barbarism. Cultural sophistication versus depravity. Knowledge and learning versus superstition. And I think that he has an ideal of civilization that doesn't exist, either in those times of the Greeks that he writes about or in modern day Europe or America. Unlike another author who would deliberately choose to oversimplify the protagonist and antagonist just to make a better story, Miller seems to believe that things are or were this way, which makes it easy for him to laud one side and vilify the other. Still, it must be said that as an author he surely understands that the more conflict there is, the better, and so he deliberately exaggerated the goodness and badness of either side. The fact that it happens to bear some resemblance to his conception of real life may not be entirely coincidental, but I'm sure that the demands of the storytelling were sufficient enough reason for him to shape his narrative in the way that he did.

Ok, that's a big sloppy mess of writing on my part, for which I apologize, but at least I finally got it done. All thoughts and comments are welcome.

Ender's Shadow (and series) by Orson Scott Card

A while ago I wrote about the Ender's Game series by Orson Scott Card. I finally finished reading the companion series begun in Ender's Shadow. I wasn't necessarily looking forward to reading this series, even though I enjoyed Ender's Game so much. You'd have to be a fool not to have some trepidation about a book that is supposed to happen simultaneously with the first one. I usually hate the idea that there's an "untold story" with the same characters that you just didn't hear about the first time. And even in this case where I actually did like the book, I still can't say I approve of the idea. It seems to me that all too often authors who are lacking inspiration return to earlier successes. Be that as it may, as I said I actually did enjoy this book immensely.

I'm going to assume you're familiar with Ender's Game. Ender's Shadow deals with Bean, a well-known and quite important character. He is the one who metaphorically stands in Ender's shadow. The book ends at roughly the same point as Ender's Game, with the characters having gone through pretty much all the same things. There was evidently quite a bit more going on behind the scenes than you would ever guess from the first book. It's well-written and almost captures the magic of the original book. It's definitely Orson Scott Card's best writing since then. As I wrote before, the sequels to Ender's Game do not stand up to the original. This series is different. Card has evidently set aside much of his metaphysical musing in favor of actually telling a story. Bean's story progresses into the world after Ender is banished, dealing with the politics of the world left behind after the end of the war. Bean plays a major role in the new government formed by Peter, Ender's brother, who we meet late on in Ender's Game when he's already Hegemon. The Bean series deals equally with Bean's efforts on Peter's behalf as much as Bean's search for his origins. Both parts of the story are quite interesting, and it seems Card finally returned some of his focus to speculative fiction, a focus that was overwhelmed by his philosophical musings in the later Ender books. The span of this series is quite a few years, from when Bean goes into battle school to when he's a grown adult.

Some of Card's books are pretty good in terms of story, and some aren't so great. The Bean series is solid, and these books aren't overly huge. I'd almost recommend reading Ender's Game, skipping the rest of those, and reading the full Ender's Shadow series. However, Card says that he's going to write another sequel in the Bean series which will unite the two series. That'll be interesting.

Choke (Movie) by Chuck Palahniuk

Choke is one of Chuck Palahniuk's better efforts. It maintains a certain level of humor constantly along the same lines as Fight Club while also connecting with the reader through a sympathetic, although not always likable, main character. It even has a certain poignancy because the story of his efforts to take care of his ailing mother is all too real. But this is no ordinary story, no, Victor's mother is a con artist who can't recognize her own son any more and Victor himself pays for his mother's care with donations he wangles out of people by pretending to choke in front of them. It sounds wacked out and it is. Furthermore, Victor is a med school drop-out sex addict who works at a Colonial theme park. Yeah, it's that kind of book.
Take my word for it though, this book is second only to Fight Club among Chuck Palahniuk's works.

With this source material, you'd think a movie would be too hard to make. Amazingly, it turned out pretty well. Clark Gregg directed the movie starring Sam Rockwell, Anjelica Huston, Kelly Macdonald, and Brad William Henke. The cast was great all around, but that's to be expected from at least 3 of those 4 actors. A lot of the story was preserved in the film, but more importantly, the film remained true to the book's spirit. There were a lot of laugh-out-loud moments, as well as a couple of truly touching scenes where Sam Rockwell once again displays his acting flexibility. As far as I'm concerned he played Victor to perfection. Henke as his friend Denny was also good, although he wasn't a major part of the plot at any time. His chronic masturbation was good for a visual gag a few times though (no pun intended). Like all Chuck Palahniuk novels, there are a few times when you have to think "I can't believe anybody would ever actually do that", but of course, all of Palahniuk's stories are gleaned from real people who really did them so it's even more disturbing.

I'm sure I could say more, but to keep it short, I recommend that you read this book and go see the film when it comes out (as of now the release is set for September). Go!

Two Novels

Over the last two weeks I had the time to read two science fiction novels, the well-regarded Farthing by Jo Walton and Jon Scalzi's Hugo-nominated Old Man's War. Actually, it would be inaccurate to call Farthing strictly science fiction, as it occupies that odd genre of "alternative history" which is somehow considered science fiction when written by a science fiction author, but merely fiction when written by a non-science fiction author (Walton falls into the former category.) Farthing describes in careful detail the goings-on of a set of English aristocratic elite who, after the invasion of France by Nazi Germany in 1940, were instrumental in negotiating peace with Hitler (a "peace with honor" as the described by the "Farthing set", the elites for whom the novel is named.) Reading the book I found striking parallels to Phillip Roth's The Plot Against America (reviewed here by myself) and in fact, there is even one passage where a reference is made to "President Lindbergh", perhaps a nod to Roth by Walton herself. The characters of both novels could easily be operating in the same universe, as the heart of the story is a secret plot by members of the Farthing set to subvert the British government and seize power for themselves and the novel is laced with the sort of dark suspicion and paranoia that is so essential to novels of political conspiracies. However, the perspective of the novel differs from Roth's, as in Plot the characters find themselves attempting to live out semi-normal lives against the backdrop of America's drift towards fascism, while the characters in Farthing are central and occupy important places in the dark plot. The novel revolves around two characters, a wealthy young woman and member of the Farthing set who rebels against her family to marry a Jew (none-too welcome in Britain at the time) and a police inspector who is called in to investigate deeply suspicious murder. The resolution of the novel revolves around the choices they make in the face of what appears to be an unstoppable plot. Frankly, I found the end to be dissatisfying. Not for how Walton chose to conclude it, but the manner in which she did so. The ending felt rushed compared to detail with which she portrayed the peculiarities and eccentricities of the members of the Farthing set in the early part of the novel, and I finished feeling as if the book had ended too soon, or that a sequel would necessarily follow in short order (I know of no plans for one.) Nonetheless, I can definitely recommend this novel for anyone who enjoys historical fiction or alternative histories, especially the kind where no one actually takes the field of battle.

Old Man's War was considerably more disappointing. Being a Hugo nominee, I expected from the novel something along the lines of the hard, realistic and grim military science fiction of Joe Halderman and The Forever War. Far from it. Instead, Scalzi follows in the vein of Robert Heinlein's Starship Troopers; lots of fighting and little character development, but even less political philosophy than Heinlein. In fact, Scalzi recognizes the debt to Heinlein in the acknowledgments, but Scalzi's work is less inspired by Starship Troopers than derivative of it. Scalzi takes an interesting premise-the idea that upon the age of 75, citizens of Earth can trade in their old bodies for new ones in exchange for joining a colonial military charged with defending humankind throughout the known galaxy-and does little with it. The main character is interesting and likeable enough, but I'm not sure Scalzi actually has any sense of what it would be like for Earth's elderly citizens to suddenly become rampaging interstellar warriors. In other words, the idea that people old in spirit but young in body might act differently than people who are simply young in spirit and young in body, seems lost on Scalzi; either he doesn't think they'd be that different, or he didn't know how to convey it. Second, although Scalzi raises the moral dimensions of protracted, unforgiving conflict with sentient alien races that's premised on an amoral "eat or be eaten" mindset that both humans and the aliens share alike, he then quickly dismisses these considerations. At one point when the main character experiences a mental breakdown (following the literal squashing of members of a race who are only a few inches tall) and begins to question the morality of simply killing other sentient beings indiscriminately, he's told that "everyone" goes through it and gets over it. Sure enough he does. Despite the obvious intelligence, compassion and humor the character possesses, he-and everyone else in the novel-come to think nothing of obliterating aliens simply to take their planets away from them for human occupation. I understand that not everyone writes a war novel so that they may opine upon the grim bitterness of war. But our age is far too cynical for war novels to be so dismissive of the immoralities of war, and novels that did so in earlier times were merely covering up an experience that has probably always been central to war; the questioning of a war's premise, or the rejection of war altogether, by those who nonetheless continue to fight it.

So, two reviews for the price of one. If I had to rank them, I'd give Farthing a 6 out of 10, and Old Man's War a 3 out of 10. But you don't have to take my word for it; read them for yourself and let us know what you think.

Some graphic novels

Ok, maybe not everybody is a graphic novel fiend like me (and especially James D), but there are some anyone should be able to enjoy. Let me start with I am Legend (the graphic novel, that is), based on the book by Richard Matheson. Actually I guess I should start with the book version. Here's a short synopsis from Amazon:

A terrible plague has decimated the world, and those who were unfortunate enough to survive have been transformed into blood-thirsty creatures of the night. Except, that is, for Robert Neville. He alone appears to be immune to this disease, but the grim irony is that now he is the outsider. He is the legendary monster who must be destroyed because he is different from everyone else. Employing a stark, almost documentary style, Richard Matheson was one of the first writers to convince us that the undead can lurk in a local supermarket freezer as well as a remote Gothic castle.

What's more notable about this book, and what makes it really worth reading, is the close in focus on Robert Neville and his knowledge that the end is coming, and all he's doing is delaying it. He feels alone, trapped, and despondent. This is no Robinson Crusoe tale. Neville survives despite the knowledge that he is doomed, not because he has hope. It's a very dark tale, but still captivating. It's tense and thoughtful (two things that are usually incompatible). It's very much a modern horror classic, and well worth reading.

The graphic novel is truly worthy of this book. The adaptation is written by Steve Niles and illustrated by Elman Brown. I'm not usually a fan of simple black and white art, but perhaps in this case coloration would have detracted from the pure power of the story. My biggest gripe about the art is that I don't like the way he draws some of the characters. They just don't look normal, but that's not enough to really ruin the experience, although it gets annoying once in a while. Steve Niles is the writer of the 30 Days of Night series(the first one of which was recently turned into a movie).

I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Niles recently at a signing, and discussing with him some of his books. I asked him how he got involved with I Am Legend, and he said he simply loved the book from his first reading of it when he was younger. A couple of years ago or so, he decided to call Richard Matheson and ask if he could do a graphic novel of the book, and Mr. Matheson said yes. He sold him the license for $100! Simply amazing; that kind of thing should happen more often! Anyway, this is not a collaboration brought about as the bright idea of some publisher or editor, it was done out of a love for the book and author, and the treatment he gives it is respectful.

If you're wondering why you'd read the graphic novel instead of the novel, I can't say one is really better than the other. They're very similar, except one uses words to create imagery and the other uses pictures to tell a story. I like them both, and the art of the book is worth checking out.

Recently I picked up a book called Lucifer, a spin-off from Neil Gaiman's Sandman series (which, by the way, is one of the most awesome comic series ever created, and if you don't agree go die). Now usually, spin-off is a bad word in comics. It almost always means a half-assed mini-series about some hero the publisher is trying to hype to sell more comics and make more money. Think of the vast number of X-series spin-offs and you get the picture. I was wary about buying it at first, but when my favorite comic shop started selling them for 50% off, I just had to try it. I don't regret it. Mike Carey does a solid job of distancing this from The Sandman (not relying overly-much on established characters and settings to sell the story based on familiarity with those) but keeps that same sort of mysterious atmosphere, not explaining Lucifer or his motivese through dialog or exposition, but simply letting the story reveal itself. It's very interesting so far, but since I've only read the first volume, I can't say whether the next ten volumes will be as well.

At least he's not dead!

Terry Pratchett announced yesterday that he has Alzheimer's:

Best-selling fantasy author Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with a rare form of early onset Alzheimer's, he said in a message posted to his illustrator's Web site.

In a brief note to fans entitled "An Embuggerance," Pratchett, 59, said he was taking the news "fairly philosophically" and "possibly with a mild optimism."

Well, it's bad news but at least it's not an announcement that he died, which we've seen a few too many of in the last year. Here's hoping he sticks around for quite a while.

The Mist (movie and novella) by Stephen King

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I really enjoyed this novella when I read it some 15 years ago. It's really one of the best examples of Stephen King's writing. I was complaining to my wife after the movie that evidently most people who make Stephen King movies either don't understand what his books are truly about or don't read them in the first place. I don't take credit for inventing the idea that stories are either primarily about characters or plot, but I did figure that out for myself and one of the most obvious examples of a writer whose books are about characters is Stephen King. That must sound like a strange analysis of the "Master of Horror" that King is called or claimed to be. But I have read almost the entirety of his body of work and King is, above all, concerned with characters. He thinks about what they feel, think, do, say, and react to each other. This is in sharp contrast to some people who write characters that are about as realistic as a He-Man action figure (like JK Rowling).

So one can say that the plot of The Mist is that a weird mist rolls over the town, filled with monsters and creatures all of which seem to be bent on killing people. Some people manage to find refuge in a supermarket, where they struggle to survive. The meat of the story is about what exactly they would do to survive, and how they decide to act under these circumstances. Basically it's all a setup for the characters so that King can explore their actions and reactions as individuals and as a group. And that's what's really fascinating about this book. People have done monster stories before. People have done stories about people trapped in a situation with no way out. King's story isn't remarkable in his choice to use those two elements together. It's remarkable because he can write realistic and believable characters in that situation.

You have Mrs. Carmody, the nut (some might characterize her as a religious nut, but religion is her enabler, not the cause of her viciousness). This is the woman you're hoping the monsters will eat first. There are plenty of memorable characters and King manages to give them, mostly, distinct personalities that react to the situation in different ways. There's also the mob mentality of Mrs. Carmody's followers, which is all too believable.

The action of the story is driven by the monsters in the mist, but the drama is all in the choices the people make. Most of the time the monsters are simply some threat out there, not inside the store at all, but that merely gives the people more time to turn on each other. I really don't take this as some kind of scary monster story. It's not an Alien or Predator situation. This is a psychological thriller about what happens to people under extreme duress. It's a fine story, and at about 113 pages it's not too long to take the time to read it.

The Movie

Frank Darabont's adaptation holds up pretty well (this is Darabont's fourth time adapting a King work). Unlike many, perhaps most, movie adaptations, the story is left almost completely unchanged, with even a lot of the same dialog. Darabont has a very simple directorial style in this movie (and overall, mostly), with no dramatic slowdowns, no dramatic closeups, very little in the way of swelling music, etc. I'm very pleased with that as many directors can't seem to figure out that nobody appreciates what they think are wonderful shots.

I thought the movie was good pretty much because it left the original story alone. The monsters were pretty cool and the effects were pretty good overall. The actors were great though. Thomas Jane was a very, very good choice for this role. Just about everyone was absolutely believable in their role, and Andre Braugher played Norton perfectly. It's always nice to watch a movie where actors act like their characters!

There is a major, major drawback to this movie, and that is what Darabont does with the ending. He does not keep the original ending and what he does is inexplicable. After the movie had gone the way it had for so long, why he would choose an ending like that is beyond me.

I'd give the movie 4 out of 5 stars, but the ending alone takes it down to a 3. However, let me say that I enjoyed that movie a lot and I do recomment seeing it. As long as you're prepared to be disappointed by the ending, you won't be as upset as I was.