Gaslight by Patrick Hamilton

This is a play that I had never even heard of until it was set as part of my course on the Gothic; apparently there's also a film version of it that I had never heard of either. But, after reading the premise, I was intrigued about where it would head. So, after a very quick read-through, what did I think?

Gaslight starts in a dark and dingy Victorian house, where we meet married couple Jack and Bella Manningham. Tension is running high between them, due to a series of objects going missing around the house, only to turn up hidden in strange places; Bella is assigned the blame for this, but because she doesn't remember doing anything of the sort she believes that she has inherited her mother's madness. It is only when she is visited by a former police detective while her husband is out that Bella is given reason to suspect that he might not be the man she thought he was.
For me, the plot would have been more suspenseful if the blurb hadn't summed up the entirety of the play. As a plot though, it's well executed, if a tad predictable at times. Rough, the police detective, tends to lay the hints on rather thick. Although I will give the play credit for the fantastic final monologue that Bella gets, which is most satisfying considering the stuff she goes through in this.

Overall, a quick read and what I would imagine to be a thoroughly enjoyable play to watch. It's certainly made me interested in watching the film version with Ingrid Bergman. 4/5

Next review: Frankenstein: Prodigal Son by Dean Koontz

Signing off,
Nisa.

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

I suppose that I should have expected to see this come up as part of my studies. The Yellow Wallpaper is quite infamous for anyone who has any interest in Gothic or Feminist literature; I happen to like both, so let's see how this turned out.

The story follows an unnamed female narrator who has temporarily moved out to the country with her physician husband so that she can carry out the rest cure that he has prescribed for her. She is installed in a former nursery, with a hideous yellow wallpaper that she can't help but dislike. Unfortunately, due to her husband and her nurse's dislike of her writing, she is left with really only one option with which she can stimulate her mind: following the pattern in the wallpaper; this preoccupation with the wallpaper becomes something more when she starts seeing shapes moving behind the pattern.
This was honestly a lot creepier than I had assumed it would be. The idea of having all mental stimuli removed for long periods of time is something that I can't really imagine, so I can fully believe that she starts to go crazy as a result. I guess I just keep underestimating the power of the short story, although I keep being proved wrong.

The Yellow Wallpaper is a very quick read and definitely worth your time checking out. 4.5/5

Next review: Gaslight by Patrick Hamilton

Signing off,
Nisa.

Frankenstein (1818 text) by Mary Shelley

After Dracula, this is probably the most famous Gothic text ever written, and with good reason. Like with Dracula, this was not the first time that I had read Frankenstein, I just haven't read it in a long time. As you can see, I've specified the edition of the text that I re-read, as there are differences between the two; the more widely read 1831 edition apparently toned down a fair few elements from the original edition, which I was quite glad to avoid. Anyway, on to the question of how it held up compared to my memories of it.

Frankenstein: Or The Modern Prometheus starts with an explorer making an expedition into the Arctic, in an effort to map it. Along the way, he and his crew pick up a man stranded on a chunk of ice: this man is Victor Frankenstein, and his narrative explaining his life and how he ended up in the Arctic. This story is one that everyone knows: as a young student of natural philosophy, Frankenstein creates a creature from the body parts of the dead and brings it to life, creating a being that will eventually destroy everything that he holds dear.
I love this book. In my eyes, it is probably the pinnacle of what can be achieved in Gothic fiction, as well as a perfect example of a tragedy. While it is easy to sympathise with Frankenstein in the beginning, it is only when we hear the Creature's side of the story that we begin to see that his actions are by no means entirely good or commendable. On the one hand, I can understand Frankenstein's horror at realising the inhuman nature of the creature that he has created and accidentally let loose, especially considering the physical and mental exhaustion following the Creature's birth; on the other, the Creature is initially a benevolent and rational being, forced into a role of villain after being shunned by every human whose path he crosses. It is a conflict that could be easily solved, but the obstinacy of both parties prevents that from happening, with tragic consequences. I would discuss this in more detail, but it is a story that I think must be experienced personally; besides, who in the world doesn't know this story in some capacity?

This has been a very short review, but all I really needed to say was whether it is still worth reading after all these years and exposure. In my opinion, it has certainly aged better than Dracula, as the Creature is not just the two-dimensional Gothic villain that Dracula is, but a fully fleshed out antagonist that is equally as sympathetic as the main lead, if not more so. 5/5

Next review: The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Signing off,
Nisa.

Batman: The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and Brian Bolland

Taking a quick break from books that are university-related, I decided to finally start on my edition of Batman: The Killing Joke. To comic fans, this is probably one of the most famous story-lines to happen in the Batman continuity, with several far-reaching consequences. As you can probably guess, I had high expectations of it. Which is why I'm somewhat confused. 

Following yet another escape from Arkham Asylum (what must their security be like if this is a regular occurrence with almost EVERY Batman villain incarcerated there?) the Joker decides to prove to the world that anyone can become like him if they have just one really bad day. To do this, he kidnaps Commissioner Gordon and subjects him to mental torture. Thus, Batman must confront the Joker before Gordon and his daughter Barbara are harmed any further. 

I expected this to be longer. After hearing so much praise about The Killing Joke, alongside my previous experience of Alan Moore's work (specifically V for Vendetta and Watchmen), I guess I was expecting a heftier story than the 46 pages that I got. Don't get me wrong, I knew it wouldn't be the epics that the previous Alan Moore stuff I read would be, the volume was too slim. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't think it had the same kind of weight to it that I was expecting from all the praise. It's a good story, don't get me wrong, it just seems like it could have been fleshed out a bit more; as it is, it doesn't seem like the Joker really has time to carry out his plan. What he does is dreadful, and I would never wish that on any parent, but it seems odd that he would stop short, as it were. Much as I like Commissioner Gordon and his family, part of me feels that the Joker would continue to torment him and create more misery for Gordon, until he was certain that he'd snapped completely and irreversibly. The other thing that bugged me about this story is the fact that Alan Moore tries to give the Joker a back-story. Much as I am a fan of character back-story as a means of giving said character depth and personality, the Joker is an exception to this; his past is a complete blank and that lack of knowledge just makes him scarier. Giving him a sympathetic back-story just makes him seem less chilling somehow, and I personally don't think that his version of the one bad day really measures up to his psychosis; as the Joker himself says, "If I'm going to have a past, I prefer it to be multiple choice!". Maybe if there were several versions of his past that the comic created as possibilities, that I could understand, as it would create more mystery as well as introducing a potential sympathetic element to his character. As is, I like the story in theory, I just can't help but read it and wish that it had been written with more scope in mind. In terms of an introduction into comics, it is a pretty good place to start, as there isn't a whole lot in here that isn't well-known to pop culture at large. 

Despite my misgivings about the execution of the story, there is one reason why I would still wholeheartedly recommend this to new comic readers, other than the ease with which you can understand it: the artwork. The artwork in this is utterly stunning. The Joker in particular is very well drawn, with just the right amount of grotesqueness to his facial features to make him look just fundamentally wrong. The colouring is very good as well, particularly the parts exploring the Joker's past; much like Schindler's List, it's black and white with a splash of colour, a shade of red that just keeps getting brighter as the flashbacks go on. It's an interesting look to be sure. 

Overall then, this vehicle for the Joker was a tad bit underwhelming. I can see why so many people like it, I just think that there were so many missed opportunities that Alan Moore could have explored further within the narrative. For me, it's best point is the artwork, which has pretty much guaranteed that I will look out for more of Brian Bolland's work. I would recommend this if you're just starting out in comics, as there isn't really much back-story you need to know beforehand that isn't already well-known by the general public. 3.5/5 

Next review: Frankenstein (1818 text) by Mary Shelley 

Signing off, 

Nisa. 

The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

This is going to be a tricky one to talk about. I would have gotten around to reading The Name of the Rose eventually, but university made it a more urgent read. I had heard of it before: when I first became a film fan, I looked up Sean Connery's back catologue, which included the film adaptation of this book; as such, I was aware that it was a murder mystery set in a medieval monastery. I think those preconceptions may have been slightly off.

The Name of the Rose follows two monks, a former inquisitor named William of Baskerville and his novice travelling partner Adso. Whilst travelling across Europe, they stop at a Benedictine monastery in order to participate in a theological dispute between the Spiritual Franciscans and representatives of the Pope of the time on the subject of poverty. Their visit is given extra purpose when the abbot asks for Brother William's assistance following the mysterious death of an illuminator.
So I guess what I should talk about is my opinion of the plot. That's where I have to stop and mention that I am still trying to figure out what I just read. I suppose the simplest way that I can put it is that The Name of the Rose is part murder mystery, part examination of politics within the Catholic Church of 1327. It's an odd combination to say the least, but that does at least give me a structure with which to look at the plot with.
In terms of a murder mystery, it's well-structured and makes sense, but part of me is still unsatisfied with it. On the one hand, it has some interesting red herrings and a twist that I would never have seen coming, as well as ultimately making sense; on the other hand, I'm of the opinion that a good murder mystery will allow the reader an opportunity to piece together their own theory about the murderer, a process that is made difficult when some of the clues provided are in Latin. I don't know about you, but I can think of only one person I know out of my entire circle of friends and family who knows Latin to any great degree, and most of the Latin that pops up isn't translated; I kind of feel like the audience is put at a disadvantage because of this. Now that I think about it, the inclusion of particular Latin phrases doesn't necessarily make sense, seeing as the implication is that, unless stated, everyone is speaking Latin anyway, it being the common language used in the Catholic Church of the time; if you wanted to draw attention to a particular phrase, then why not use italics or speech marks as opposed to Latin? It seems less out of place and doesn't confuse the majority of your audience either.
In terms of the examination of politics, it's an interesting look at corruption within the Church, and the thin line that separates a pious saint from the crazy Bible thumpers that we are still unfortunately stuck with. In the past I have made obvious my liking for explorations of the internal politics of social strata or organisations, and this is no exception, although it is a little more blatant than I am used to. The explicit discussions about politics is largely to do with the question of whether monks should practice poverty as a means of emulating Jesus; on the one hand, there is no Scripture specifically stating that Jesus was poor, but on the other, it looks kinda bad if you tell people to practice charity whilst hoarding gold and jewels for yourself. The more implicit examination of politics is the question of what lengths should people go to in order to accumulate or censor knowledge. I would discuss this one further, but it's sides are somewhat less well-defined.

Like I said at the beginning, The Name of the Rose is an odd one to talk about. It's undeniably a well-written book, if a tad slow in parts, but there is a fundamental question that I'm finding difficult to answer: who would I recommend this to? I suppose I would recommend it to people who are looking for a murder mystery with a bit more challenge to it, but I would also say that they should keep in mind the many discussions of doctrine; if you just want a pure and simple mystery, then this probably isn't for you. I guess I would recommend it to people who are looking for something to challenge the mind, so long as you're willing to put in the extra work of translating the bits of Latin left unchanged. Personally, this has made me want to watch the film version, as I'm utterly confused as to how this got adapted to film. 3.5/5

Next review: The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and Brian Bolland

Signing off,
Nisa.

Return of the New Year and Birthday Retrospective

So, another year of blogging. It's been a busy year, compared to 2011, so I haven't had the chance to read anywhere near as many books; at the same time though, I think I read more door-stopper books, so it probably even out more.

In terms of change, I think that has been more apparent in my non-book-related life: I started my last year of university, bringing with it the dreaded dissertation, for one thing. For another, I got engaged recently, so now I have to start acting like a grown-up; while I'm happy about this turn, it does feel weird and kind of daunting.

This year, the blog will probably be very slow during the first five-six months while I finish university, but I'm hoping to increase my output in the second half of the year: by then I will either have a job, in which case I'll read on public transport, or I will be unemployed and thus have more time. I really hope it's the former, I have a wedding to fund. I'm thinking I might post monthly Top 10 lists on various book-related topics as well, so I'm hoping that works out.

So, I hope everyone has had a wonderful new year, and if anyone has any suggestions or comments about the blog then you are more than welcome to let me know in the comment section below.

Signing out,
Nisa.

Dawn by Elie Wiesel

So, same guy as last time, but with a fiction title, as opposed to a memoir. This should be somewhat easier to critique than Night due to this, but I seem to be kind of distracted at the moment (I will be happy when Christmas prep is over); regardless, I shall make a damn good try at reviewing Dawn.

Dawn takes place in British-controlled Palestine, during the conflict between the Jewish residents and the British occupants. Elisha, the main character and narrator, is a member of the Jewish resistance movement and a survivor of the Holocaust; his faith in the movement is challenged when he is charged with killing a captive English army officer as a response to the execution of one of their comrades. For the majority of the book, Elisha is left to question whether he has it in him to kill someone in cold blood, especially in the name of someone he has never even met.
I liked Dawn primarily because the internal conflict that Elisha goes through seems very true and is great for creating sympathy for him. For me, it was an interesting dynamic, especially following on the heels of Night: in Night, it's obvious who the audience is meant to sympathise with, while Dawn takes the same sympathy and complicates it with the always complex question of terrorism and political violence. It does get a little bit odd when he starts seeing dead people, but otherwise I thought it worked really well.

Overall, a well-written, interesting examination of guilt. It's also encouraged me to do more research into the situation in that era of Palestine, especially having realised that my Grandfather would have been carrying out his compulsory military service out there at around that time. Definitely worth a look. 4.5/5

Next review: The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco.

Signing off,
Nisa.