Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Oh. Hey guys.

Before you say anything, I know. It’s been FOREVER. But, though my taste in books would indicate that I am a fourteen-year-old in the throes of middle school, I am in fact in my twenties, and just finished my junior year of college. And, my being a junior in college, and an English major, meant that I had to set aside my wonderful young adult novels to pursue decidedly more “academic” and “age-appropriate” literature.

I read Ulysses.

 The cover is ugly as sin, but the innards are BEAUTIFUL.

So, needless to say, I loved Joyce’s famous reimagining of the Odyssey, but this is not the place, and I am most certainly not the scholar to give it a just and thorough review. So instead, I’ll review a decidedly less prestigious reimagining of Greek myth.

Percy motha-effin’ Jackson.

It’s not the greatest novel of the twentieth century, but it is a novel!

Frankly, this series is pretty awesome. The basic premise is that P. Jacks’ mom has the greatest hookup ever and finds her uterus full of the SON OF POSEIDEN, GOD OF THE SEA. That’s right. The hero of this young adult novel isn’t your average orphan, boy-wizard, or vampire-werewolf-mermaid-griffin. He’s a DEMI-GOD.

Basically, the entire series is Percy navigating through pretty much every Greek myth out there, in his attempts to create harmony between the world of humans and the world of the Olympians. The plot concept is really freakin’ cool. The execution is really freakin' juvenile.

Now, I often get flack for reading books that are very ill suited for my age. For the most part, the flack doesn’t bother me. I can handle it. In fact, I welcome it. Flack. Part of a healthy, balanced breakfast. Not to be confused with “flak,” the antiaircraft weaponry. 

Not this.

But with this book, I started to feel ashamed. I think it really hit me when I was substitute teaching for a third grade class, and several of the spry little eight-year-olds referred to the series as “childish.” I made sure to never let them find out that I had good old Perce tucked in my backpack at that very moment. It’s one thing to be judged by eight-year-olds. It is quite another to know that their judgment is not entirely unfounded.

The thing is, Percy Jackson is an unassuming twelve-year-old with twelve-year-old problems and a twelve-year-old sense of humor. The chapters of this book have such darling titles as “I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-algebra Teacher,” “Grover Unexpectedly Loses His Pants,” and “I Battle my Jerk Relative.”

I also really like to think that when I was twelve, I was not as idiotic as this spawn of Posieden. Percy is literally attacked by a flying she-beast from Hades, his best friend reveals to him that he is half-goat, his mother is carried off by a minatoar, but when a centaur tries to suggest to him that the gods of Ancient Greece are real, Percy simply won’t have it. “’But they’re stories,’ I said. “They’re – myths, to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They’re what people believed before there was science.’” Pages 67-68

PERCY. USE YOUR HEAD.

The movie is also super bad. Not like the awesome movie, Superbad, but actually just really shitty. For one thing, Percy looks a hell of a lot older than twelve, which really makes his dumbassness all the more embarrassing. But, on the upside, it has Sean Bean playing Zeus. Obvi. Anytime you need anyone slightly regal in anything, Sean Bean is your man. Boromir, Odysseus, Ned Stark, that pedophile in Red Riding, Sean Bean’s found his niche.

The upcoming sequel, set to come out on the Ides of March, 2013, is starring much of the same people, who are now wayyyy too old to be taken for thirteen year olds. Sean Bean will not be returning for this one, but his presence as a chronic typecast will not be missed, because the part of the Cyclops will be played by this guy:

His name is Derek Mears, and he is a 40-year-old actor who specializes in the portrayal of beef-heads, muscular serial killers, and terrifying aliens alike. His most notable accomplishments include “Thug #2” in Andy Barker, P.I., “Jones Thug #2” in Mr. and Mrs. Smith, “Thug #4” in My Name is Earl, and “Classic Predator” in Predators. 

The face of success.

So, overall, I do recommend this series, but I recommend it for true tweens. In the flesh as well as the mind. It’s an excellent tool for teachers who want to get their kids excited about Greek myths. I actually learned a lot from reading it. Like, enough to be able to dominate in some of my college classes. No joke. 


Photo Cred:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-aircraft_warfare
imdb.com
http://www.agta-gtc.org/the-right-method-to-test-gems-and-precious-metals/

Sunday, February 5, 2012

The Invention of Hugo Cabret

Have you ever noticed how page turning is a laborious and often strenuous task? I’m not even talking metaphorically here, I mean physically. Your fingers have to grasp the page, make sure it’s not stuck to any others, (no hop-ons), and then the muscles in your hand and arm have to work to flip that sucker entirely upside down. It’s a workout, man! That shit burns calories!

Probably less calories than this.

Now I know you, reader. I can read you like the back of a box of Berry Berry Kix. Right now you’re sitting at your computer, iPad, iPod, Nook, or digital watch with a data plan and thinking “What is she talking about? Page turning is easy! If page turning is a workout than why am I not reading James Joyce in my jazzercise class?”

Joycercise.

I don’t know why you’re not reading Joyce. You need to take that up with your jazzercise instructor. All I’m saying is that you don’t notice the strains of page turning until you have to do it over and over again at a fairly quick pace.

And that’s what happens when you read The Invention of Hugo Cabret. Most of it is pictures, with the occasional page or two of printed word, and usually those pages of words are only half –full. Or half-empty. It really depends on what your attitude towards words are.

So, because of the intense amount of pictures in this book, you’re fippin’ pages like they’re veggie burgers! (in case you didn’t know, veggie burgers need to be flipped fairly rapidly). I mean, sure, I guess you could take your time and enjoy the artwork and really let it sink in, but that would totally mess with the pace of the story. There are multiple chase scenes that are depicted entirely through full page drawings. At that point the pages should be flowing at a pace that would rival a flipbook.

IT’S ON

But despite the fact that my right arm is now rippled and muscular and my left arm still looks like one of those resistance yoga bands that you found in a thrift store dollar bin, the artwork was actually a really cool addition to the book. Bravo, Brian Selznick, for successfully fusing two forms of art together to tell a story!

The problem is, the story that the art forms were telling was kind of bad. The basic plot is sound enough, I guess. There’s an orphan boy who’s living alone in a Paris train station. He’s taken over as timekeeper after his uncle disappeared, so he sets all the clocks in the train station in secret. He steals food and mechanical toys that he can take apart and use the pieces to make his automaton, which is this weird-ass mechanical man that Hugo is devoting his life to.

Ah, youth.

This is a fine set-up, and could very well lead to an interesting, perhaps even heartwarming story. But it didn’t. The story was full of characters whose emotions would do a complete one-eighty out of nowhere, the “big twist” at the end was really not that big a deal, and the book had way way way too many chase scenes.

All right. I guess I’m on board with this.

Oh no. She fell. What a creative new development.

Ok these need to STOP.

Ahh the chase scene. A surefire way to provide suspense in your novel. Chase scenes are fail-safe, they are effective, but like gutter guards in a bowling competition, they should be used spare-ingly. (yeah. I’ve been sitting on that gem for a while). It is a mark of true creativity to be able to make your reader’s heart race without quickening your character’s pace. (yep. That one too). I respect authors who can have me clutching my heart in fear and anticipation without providing a good old-fashioned run for you life. Chase scenes are a cliché. They are a last resort. And they should certainly never be used as many times as they are used in this book.

So, on the whole, I was pretty unimpressed. I had been really excited for a fascinating story told through the cooperative effort of well placed words and outstanding artwork (see Leviathan) but what I got was decidedly less-than. Not a gem.

I heard the movie kicks ass, though.


Photo-Cred

http://blog.itechtalk.com/2010/improving-cardio-workouts/

http://biblioklept.org/2008/09/22/james-joyce-reads-you-listen/

http://blaine.org/sevenimpossiblethings/?p=2228

http://www.wnyc.org/articles/wnyc-news/2012/jan/06/exploring-grand-centrals-secret-author-hugo/

http://trustmovies.blogspot.com/2011/11/scorseses-hugo-intelligent-personal.html

http://dornob.com/rainbow-flip-book-brilliant-diy-3d-illusion-you-can-hold/

http://www.filmonair.com/magazine/article/hugo-it-all-started-with-a-trip-to-the-moon