A while back, I rediscovered my love for Charles Schulz's Peanuts, and have been gradually collecting and reading through The Complete Peanuts, an ambitious collection of every cartoon from the strip's 50+ years.
I completed The Complete Peanuts: 1963 - 1964. At this point in the series, the characters had been more clearly defined and their ages had been established. (You may not recall that Lucy was introduced as a toddler, that Sally and Linus were once babies, and that Snoopy didn't always play baseball.) This was still pre-Woodstock (though birds were recurring characters), when the only Patty was not Peppermint, and the neighbourhood had not yet been integrated with the arrival of Franklin.
The brilliance of Charles Schulz is hard to categorize. I think it lay in a combination of many factors, perhaps most notably in taking adult understandings, anxieties, and ponderings and distilling them into the mouths of children. Heartache and despair are as much a part of the Peanuts world as laughter, but somehow the futility of the baseball season, the unrequited love between Lucy and Schroeder (or between Charlie Brown and the Red-Haired Girl, or between Linus and Miss Othmar), and the unreliability of the Great Pumpkin still bring a smile to the reader even as these disappointments ring familiar. Schulz is also a master of pacing, somehow using four frames (more on Sundays, of course) to communicate the perfect timing of these brief moments of story.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
The 2012 Summer Reading Spectacular #6
The Flint Heart is described as "freely abridged from the 1910 story by Eden Phillpotts" by Katherine and John Paterson. I haven't been quite able to discover exactly how much abridgement and how much rewriting has been involved, and I haven't read the original story, either (though I guess that technically I could -- it is still out there), but regardless, the authors have impressively retained the flavour of children's stories from the opening of the 20th century.
In short, the novel deals with the creation and influence of a flint heart, which hardens the heart of its owner and causes them to become callous and greedy. Fairies, animals, kind-hearted children, and a hot water bottle made in Germany all figure into the adventure.
It's interesting that what I like most about the book may also limit its audience. This reworking, though published in 2011, has retained the feel and voice of children's stories a century ago (and according to reviews, it's retained much of the original text, as well). I'm not sure how the average young reader (or parent of the average young reader) today will handle the vocabulary and rather elegant turns of phrase that are largely responsible for the book's charm.
Adults may find the episodic nature of the book tiresome, but I suspect that kids will be more accepting of it. Word is it's being adapted into a film, so I'm interested in whether that adaptation will retain the tone of the storytelling. I'm not sure how much a more contemporary style would help (sales) or hinder (the heart) of the story.
In short, the novel deals with the creation and influence of a flint heart, which hardens the heart of its owner and causes them to become callous and greedy. Fairies, animals, kind-hearted children, and a hot water bottle made in Germany all figure into the adventure.
It's interesting that what I like most about the book may also limit its audience. This reworking, though published in 2011, has retained the feel and voice of children's stories a century ago (and according to reviews, it's retained much of the original text, as well). I'm not sure how the average young reader (or parent of the average young reader) today will handle the vocabulary and rather elegant turns of phrase that are largely responsible for the book's charm.
Adults may find the episodic nature of the book tiresome, but I suspect that kids will be more accepting of it. Word is it's being adapted into a film, so I'm interested in whether that adaptation will retain the tone of the storytelling. I'm not sure how much a more contemporary style would help (sales) or hinder (the heart) of the story.
The 2012 Summer Screen Review (Part III)
A friend and I frequently schedule Stupid Movie Night, an evening to watch movies we expect to be bad and entertainingly so. You know, those low-budget bargain bin movies, mostly.
Lately we've been in a bit of a valley, though, with the movies being generally dull, rather than amusingly terrible. Tonight we hit what we hope was rock bottom.
Aegri Somnia. Oh, Aegri Somnia.
What do you get when you have a writer-director who is smitten by his own ideas for "striking visuals" and his misplaced self-confidence as an artiste? You get a pretentious mess that seeks to be an art film, but which stumbles blindly through a warehouse of black-and-white scenes and red scenes, overwrought use of reversed film, definitively unscary 'scary' images that seem left over from a failed Marilyn Manson video shoot, and some of the worst dialogue and delivery I've ever had the mind-numbing misfortune to endure. What seeks to be a surreal and disturbing trip through confusion and disorientation (Aegri Somnia means the dreams of a sick man, after all), only succeeds in being an arduous and laboured journey to nowhere at all. Never have I spent so much time looking at the counter on the DVD player so frequently. (My viewing companion suggested fast forwarding, but I felt that would be cheating -- instead I cheated myself out of 91 minutes of doing something more interesting ... like the dishes.)
A message to independent filmmakers: enough with stilted line delivery filled with what you believe are meaningful pauses. They're not meaningful. Don't highlight the entire textbook.
What is astounding is the number of online horror reviewers who gave the film a passing grade, lending credence to my suspicion that independent horror filmmakers and the web-community that supports them most strongly are just an inbred group of buddies. (I don't mean inbred as in "incestuous hill folk", I mean inbred in the sense that they all have gotten to know one another through the world of the old inter web and rather blindly give each other high fives for sub-par work.) The visuals, which were the hanging point of most praise, were not deserving of the credit -- generally trite reworkings of familiar tropes -- and were presented in a soup of watered down stock.
An utter waste of time in every sense.
Wait. Perhaps I had better put that in bold so nobody misses that bottom line and accidentally punishes him- or herself by watching this vapid mess.
Aegri Somnia is an utter waste of time in every sense.
After a short break to shake out the cobwebs, we decided it best to watch something that was likely to be ridiculous but nearly guaranteed to entertain: Aladin.
No, I didn't misspell that. This isn't the Aladdin of Disney fame, this is Aladin, big budget Bollywood spectacular!
Let me be upfront: this movie is pretty ridiculous and sometimes manic, but man is it entertaining. It's Bollywood! I'm not sure India has seen so much CGI (and good quality CGU, particularly for a non Hollywood production, might I add). Throw in some good old fight scenes and some utterly hilarious musical numbers and how can you not enjoy yourself? Come on, the genie is a rockstar named Genius with fancy suits and a fedora. Haha! I was completely fascinated by the bilingual nature of the script, too. Do they really snap that quickly and frequently between Hindi and English in India these days? Wow.
Perhaps Aladin seemed all the more entertaining because it followed close on the heels of the digital lobotomy that is Aegri Somnia. I don't care. I was amused, and it helped to salvage what was otherwise shaping up to be a miserable night of viewing. Thanks, crazy Bollywood movie!
Lately we've been in a bit of a valley, though, with the movies being generally dull, rather than amusingly terrible. Tonight we hit what we hope was rock bottom.
Aegri Somnia. Oh, Aegri Somnia.
What do you get when you have a writer-director who is smitten by his own ideas for "striking visuals" and his misplaced self-confidence as an artiste? You get a pretentious mess that seeks to be an art film, but which stumbles blindly through a warehouse of black-and-white scenes and red scenes, overwrought use of reversed film, definitively unscary 'scary' images that seem left over from a failed Marilyn Manson video shoot, and some of the worst dialogue and delivery I've ever had the mind-numbing misfortune to endure. What seeks to be a surreal and disturbing trip through confusion and disorientation (Aegri Somnia means the dreams of a sick man, after all), only succeeds in being an arduous and laboured journey to nowhere at all. Never have I spent so much time looking at the counter on the DVD player so frequently. (My viewing companion suggested fast forwarding, but I felt that would be cheating -- instead I cheated myself out of 91 minutes of doing something more interesting ... like the dishes.)
A message to independent filmmakers: enough with stilted line delivery filled with what you believe are meaningful pauses. They're not meaningful. Don't highlight the entire textbook.
What is astounding is the number of online horror reviewers who gave the film a passing grade, lending credence to my suspicion that independent horror filmmakers and the web-community that supports them most strongly are just an inbred group of buddies. (I don't mean inbred as in "incestuous hill folk", I mean inbred in the sense that they all have gotten to know one another through the world of the old inter web and rather blindly give each other high fives for sub-par work.) The visuals, which were the hanging point of most praise, were not deserving of the credit -- generally trite reworkings of familiar tropes -- and were presented in a soup of watered down stock.
An utter waste of time in every sense.
Wait. Perhaps I had better put that in bold so nobody misses that bottom line and accidentally punishes him- or herself by watching this vapid mess.
Aegri Somnia is an utter waste of time in every sense.
After a short break to shake out the cobwebs, we decided it best to watch something that was likely to be ridiculous but nearly guaranteed to entertain: Aladin.
No, I didn't misspell that. This isn't the Aladdin of Disney fame, this is Aladin, big budget Bollywood spectacular!
Let me be upfront: this movie is pretty ridiculous and sometimes manic, but man is it entertaining. It's Bollywood! I'm not sure India has seen so much CGI (and good quality CGU, particularly for a non Hollywood production, might I add). Throw in some good old fight scenes and some utterly hilarious musical numbers and how can you not enjoy yourself? Come on, the genie is a rockstar named Genius with fancy suits and a fedora. Haha! I was completely fascinated by the bilingual nature of the script, too. Do they really snap that quickly and frequently between Hindi and English in India these days? Wow.
Perhaps Aladin seemed all the more entertaining because it followed close on the heels of the digital lobotomy that is Aegri Somnia. I don't care. I was amused, and it helped to salvage what was otherwise shaping up to be a miserable night of viewing. Thanks, crazy Bollywood movie!
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
The 2012 Summer Reading Spectacular #5
I was feeling like I'm not getting as much reading done as usual, but as I typed the '#5' above, I realized I must be doing alright despite not having a hermitage to which I can escape.
Clive Barker's The Thief of Always is part Coraline and part Flight of the Navigator (though it predates the former and follows the latter), another variation on "be careful what you wish for" narratives that's done well. In short, Harvey Swick, bored with life, is lured to a mysterious and magical house that offers to supply his every wish and whim, but he soon discovers the darker side of those delights.
It's a short, well-plotted, and quickly moving novel with just enough darkness and grotesquery to give kids the willies but not nightmares. If there's a complaint, it's in the fact that a major turning point in the protagonist's journey seems to be based on an assumption that's a bit of a leap. Not a big criticism, and unlikely to be one noted by the young intended audience. In the novel, one can almost see the seeds of Barker's Abarat series as he experiments with how creepy he can go with the imagery in young people's literature.
Clive Barker's The Thief of Always is part Coraline and part Flight of the Navigator (though it predates the former and follows the latter), another variation on "be careful what you wish for" narratives that's done well. In short, Harvey Swick, bored with life, is lured to a mysterious and magical house that offers to supply his every wish and whim, but he soon discovers the darker side of those delights.
It's a short, well-plotted, and quickly moving novel with just enough darkness and grotesquery to give kids the willies but not nightmares. If there's a complaint, it's in the fact that a major turning point in the protagonist's journey seems to be based on an assumption that's a bit of a leap. Not a big criticism, and unlikely to be one noted by the young intended audience. In the novel, one can almost see the seeds of Barker's Abarat series as he experiments with how creepy he can go with the imagery in young people's literature.
The 2012 Summer Stage Review: Volume 2
Self Help at the Lighthouse Festival Theatre (Port Dover)
I went along to see Self Help because a friend-of-a-friend was in the cast. It's a Norm Foster comedy, so I didn't go expecting much, which is to say I went expecting to see the same show I'd seen several times, just with different character names and in a slightly different setting.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Self Help was Foster's foray into farce which, while not necessarily a brilliant script if you think too hard about it, is at least something different. The cast had nice energy and chemistry for the broad humour and sold the silliness convincingly. The one moment that chemistry seemed to stumble was during a make-out session between on-stage husband and wife team, played by Stephen Savage and Melodee Finlay, in which frenetic energy didn't quite land as the intended passion. Ah well. Small complaint, really, for a production that managed to keep my attention and made me smile despite being a Norm Foster show. Stand out in the cast was Paul Brown as Detective Snow, whose physical comedy was surprisingly organic given the rather heavy-handed direction the show had received (it's certainly painted with pretty sweeping, broad strokes), not to mention summary and sometimes obvious writing.
All-in-all, it was an entertaining night at summer theatre. Meeting with the cast afterwards, it was evident that the chemistry behind the scenes was likely a great ingredient in the show's success onstage. A lovely group of people.
I went along to see Self Help because a friend-of-a-friend was in the cast. It's a Norm Foster comedy, so I didn't go expecting much, which is to say I went expecting to see the same show I'd seen several times, just with different character names and in a slightly different setting.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Self Help was Foster's foray into farce which, while not necessarily a brilliant script if you think too hard about it, is at least something different. The cast had nice energy and chemistry for the broad humour and sold the silliness convincingly. The one moment that chemistry seemed to stumble was during a make-out session between on-stage husband and wife team, played by Stephen Savage and Melodee Finlay, in which frenetic energy didn't quite land as the intended passion. Ah well. Small complaint, really, for a production that managed to keep my attention and made me smile despite being a Norm Foster show. Stand out in the cast was Paul Brown as Detective Snow, whose physical comedy was surprisingly organic given the rather heavy-handed direction the show had received (it's certainly painted with pretty sweeping, broad strokes), not to mention summary and sometimes obvious writing.
All-in-all, it was an entertaining night at summer theatre. Meeting with the cast afterwards, it was evident that the chemistry behind the scenes was likely a great ingredient in the show's success onstage. A lovely group of people.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
The 2012 Summer Screen Review (Part II)
Let me just start off by saying I love Watchmen. I read the graphic novel and thought it was quite brilliant and thought Zack Snyder did an impressive job making a film version that captured as much of the novel's depth and breadth as was possible while understanding that any movie would have to be, by necessity, an adaptation of the material, as its storytelling can't simply be transferred to screen shot by shot.
To that end, I had picked up the DVD with Tales of the Black Freighter and Under the Hood, short films which tell somewhat peripheral parts of the story which complement the main storyline from the graphic novel. While not in the original theatrical release of Watchmen, they were later edited into an Ultimate Edition, I'm told.
Tales of the Black Freighter is an animated telling of a story-within-the-story thread, originally presented in the novel as a young boy reading a comic at a newsstand. It's reminiscent of the old EC Horror comics (you know, the Tales from the Crypt people back in the day). Seeing the whole story in one blow, rather than as a serial spread throughout the twelve issues/chapters of the novel certainly changes its impact, not to mention its ability to comment on the "real world" action of Watchmen, but viewed as a pulp horror comic story, it still works for what it is.
Under the Hood, originally a series of excerpts from Hollis Mason's (Nite Owl's) biography and reframed here as a 1970s interview/news journalism segment, aims to fill in some of the backstory of the Minutemen and the downfall of the costumed hero in the years leading up to the 1985 of Watchmen, it's mainly going to be of interest to fans of the novel. It does an admirable job of replicating the feel of an authentic television broadcast (even with altered versions of real 1970s commercials), and meets its intended purpose reasonably well. Not essential viewing, but a nice little bonus for those interested.
I should watch and/or read Watchmen again. It's been a while.
To that end, I had picked up the DVD with Tales of the Black Freighter and Under the Hood, short films which tell somewhat peripheral parts of the story which complement the main storyline from the graphic novel. While not in the original theatrical release of Watchmen, they were later edited into an Ultimate Edition, I'm told.
Tales of the Black Freighter is an animated telling of a story-within-the-story thread, originally presented in the novel as a young boy reading a comic at a newsstand. It's reminiscent of the old EC Horror comics (you know, the Tales from the Crypt people back in the day). Seeing the whole story in one blow, rather than as a serial spread throughout the twelve issues/chapters of the novel certainly changes its impact, not to mention its ability to comment on the "real world" action of Watchmen, but viewed as a pulp horror comic story, it still works for what it is.
Under the Hood, originally a series of excerpts from Hollis Mason's (Nite Owl's) biography and reframed here as a 1970s interview/news journalism segment, aims to fill in some of the backstory of the Minutemen and the downfall of the costumed hero in the years leading up to the 1985 of Watchmen, it's mainly going to be of interest to fans of the novel. It does an admirable job of replicating the feel of an authentic television broadcast (even with altered versions of real 1970s commercials), and meets its intended purpose reasonably well. Not essential viewing, but a nice little bonus for those interested.
I should watch and/or read Watchmen again. It's been a while.
The 2012 Summer Reading Spectacular #4
I am on a bit of a crime thriller kick, it seems, and apparently the Nordic countries have sort of landed on the international map in recent years when it comes to crime thrillers. As you may have already gathered (from last summer and this), I've read the Stieg Larsson trilogy already and I've started in on Jo Nesbø's Harry Hole series (See this entry), and now I've read another Swedish novel getting the "The Next Stieg Larsson" buzz.
Heading into The Hypnotist by Lars Kepler (the pen name for a husband-and-wife team individually known for different genres of writing), I was already aware of its intent to be more horrific in its tone. Its opening chapters, after all, describe a brutal and bloody crime scene to set the wheels in motion on the story. The book is quite briskly paced, with numerous short chapters and interwoven story threads, and provided you can suspend disbelief with regards to some of its procedural plot points, provides for an entertaining read.
Still, the book's main weakness, for all its entertainment value, may be that there are simply too many leads to follow up upon, too many subplots, and too many misdirections. To be fair, the threads do come together, but some of them couldn't help but seem a bit forced, and one of the two major story lines ends up getting short shrift in the broader scope of the novel. It's as if two crime thrillers were somehow joined at the hip like some conjoined literary twins, but one of the twins started monopolizing the nutrient flow, leaving the other to dwindle and weaken and be dragged alongside the dominant sibling, its ultimate death barely acknowledged.
The bottom line? Entertaining but flawed. I'll probably give the second "Lars Kepler" book a shot, still, but with one eyebrow raised going in.
Heading into The Hypnotist by Lars Kepler (the pen name for a husband-and-wife team individually known for different genres of writing), I was already aware of its intent to be more horrific in its tone. Its opening chapters, after all, describe a brutal and bloody crime scene to set the wheels in motion on the story. The book is quite briskly paced, with numerous short chapters and interwoven story threads, and provided you can suspend disbelief with regards to some of its procedural plot points, provides for an entertaining read.
Still, the book's main weakness, for all its entertainment value, may be that there are simply too many leads to follow up upon, too many subplots, and too many misdirections. To be fair, the threads do come together, but some of them couldn't help but seem a bit forced, and one of the two major story lines ends up getting short shrift in the broader scope of the novel. It's as if two crime thrillers were somehow joined at the hip like some conjoined literary twins, but one of the twins started monopolizing the nutrient flow, leaving the other to dwindle and weaken and be dragged alongside the dominant sibling, its ultimate death barely acknowledged.
The bottom line? Entertaining but flawed. I'll probably give the second "Lars Kepler" book a shot, still, but with one eyebrow raised going in.
Sunday, July 08, 2012
The 2012 Summer Stage Review: Volume 1
Beauty and the Beast at the Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre, Toronto (NETworks / Dancap)
The Toronto Star gave the production one and a half stars out of four.
That sounds about right.
Where to begin? The cast just wasn't up to scratch for a "Big Broadway Tour". Many of them are either fresh out of theatre school or are still studying, and it's pretty evident. It's hard to imagine why the actor playing the Beast was cast. He wasn't a great singer, he wasn't a great actor (though the entire production felt like a Panto gone wrong), and he wasn't cast for his physical stature -- he was notably average/short among the cast. Belle was nasally and Lumiere was confusingly lecherous. And Lefou? Oh, how I wanted someone to drag Lefou off the stage and not allow his return.
And long? It felt like an eternity! Despite its two-and-a-half hour running time and some cuts from the Broadway production (two songs completely eliminated), the show felt like three hours or more, and with so much hammy, overblown characterizations on stage, I was still bored. It had the feel of a show in which the actors had forgotten the motivations behind all of the blocking and choreography, so the actions themselves had gotten bigger and more cartoonish (even more so thanks to a never-ending barrage of slapstick sound effects) while the meanings and purposes had gotten smaller. Ug.
For my money, I'll take the production from Theatre Aquarius several years back any day over today's hamfisted nonsense.
The Toronto Star gave the production one and a half stars out of four.
That sounds about right.
Where to begin? The cast just wasn't up to scratch for a "Big Broadway Tour". Many of them are either fresh out of theatre school or are still studying, and it's pretty evident. It's hard to imagine why the actor playing the Beast was cast. He wasn't a great singer, he wasn't a great actor (though the entire production felt like a Panto gone wrong), and he wasn't cast for his physical stature -- he was notably average/short among the cast. Belle was nasally and Lumiere was confusingly lecherous. And Lefou? Oh, how I wanted someone to drag Lefou off the stage and not allow his return.
And long? It felt like an eternity! Despite its two-and-a-half hour running time and some cuts from the Broadway production (two songs completely eliminated), the show felt like three hours or more, and with so much hammy, overblown characterizations on stage, I was still bored. It had the feel of a show in which the actors had forgotten the motivations behind all of the blocking and choreography, so the actions themselves had gotten bigger and more cartoonish (even more so thanks to a never-ending barrage of slapstick sound effects) while the meanings and purposes had gotten smaller. Ug.
For my money, I'll take the production from Theatre Aquarius several years back any day over today's hamfisted nonsense.
The 2012 Summer Screen Review (Part I)
I'm not sure why I'm paying for cable these days. For the past two or three months, I've perhaps watched about three hours of actual broadcast television. Due to a hectic schedule and a limited attention span, I've been watching DVDs almost exclusively. A lot of bad low-budget movies and a lot of episodes of How I Met Your Mother.
Which brings me to the first official post of the Summer Screen Review. I finished up Season Three of HIMYM on DVD. This was a season with several episodes I hadn't seen before, which was enjoyable. Watching so many episodes in a short period (I've gone through three seasons in the past month or so), a few things become evident.
Which brings me to the first official post of the Summer Screen Review. I finished up Season Three of HIMYM on DVD. This was a season with several episodes I hadn't seen before, which was enjoyable. Watching so many episodes in a short period (I've gone through three seasons in the past month or so), a few things become evident.
- Barney is truly a horrendous human being. He's great for comedy, but in the real world he would not be my friend.
- The writers really play interestingly with narrative structures, with sometimes ingenious results, nesting flashbacks within flashbacks within flashbacks, having fun with the unreliable narrator concept, and enjoying the chance to mislead the audience.
- Lily's hair poses a lot of problems for continuity.
It's also nice to enjoy all of the extras on the DVDs. This was a show being made when the business of DVD sales was already acknowledged, so there are lots of commentaries, extras, and amusing tidbits. Commentaries were done immediately, so the next seasons (already in reruns for me now) are still unknown to those speaking, generally. Enjoyable.
I also ventured out to see The Amazing Spider-Man on the ole big screen. I don't seem to make it out to the cinema that often (I'll try to do better this summer) so this was my first outing in a while. It's true that the reboot is coming awfully quickly following the Sam Raimi trilogy, but it's a decent little superhero movie. It's not brilliant, and seemed to lag for a while, but it's enjoyable enough. I thought they took shortcuts with the introduction of his costume and webbing (what, was that stuff mail-ordered?) but it's forgivable enough in the big picture. I enjoyed both Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone and, although it seems to be reaching to be Marvel's answer to the darker edge of Christopher Nolan's Batman films, it doesn't quite pull off the tone it seems to be shooting for. Regardless, I was entertained for a couple of hours and enjoyed it for what it was.
Saturday, July 07, 2012
The 2012 Summer Reading Spectacular #3
Sometimes a book sits on the shelf for years waiting patiently to be read. Beyond the Chocolate War was one such book.
The reason for the delay was simple, though unnecessary. I didn't want to read it until I'd read The Chocolate War, and I didn't have that one sitting on my shelf. The wait was ridiculous, of course, since of all Robert Cormier's books, The Chocolate War is one of his best known and has always been available. But there it is. I just hadn't gotten around to getting it. Then I did, then I read it, then I could read Beyond the Chocolate War. Simple.
Although the books together span a single year at Trinity High School, they were published over a decade apart. If the first is an exploration of how conformity breeds corruption and the dangers of nonconformity (and it's an oversimplification to say it is), then the second could be seen as an exploration of the ways in which that conformity and corruption is perpetuated when individuals feel isolated and alone -- just like everyone else.
The problem here is that I don't really want to talk too much about the book's plot or characters, as to do so would necessarily constitute spoilers for the first of the two books. Needless to say the books aren't simple or chock-full-of-sunshine -- The Chocolate War is one of the most challenged and banned young people's novels though measured against the movies teenagers watch, it's hard to understand why -- but they're worthwhile reads. Though the situations themselves may seem extreme at first, there is also something uncomfortably familiar about them, too.
And you read an article about a senior citizen being cruelly harassed by grade seven kids on a bus in 2012 ...
"You could have said no anytime, anytime at all. But you didn't ..."
The reason for the delay was simple, though unnecessary. I didn't want to read it until I'd read The Chocolate War, and I didn't have that one sitting on my shelf. The wait was ridiculous, of course, since of all Robert Cormier's books, The Chocolate War is one of his best known and has always been available. But there it is. I just hadn't gotten around to getting it. Then I did, then I read it, then I could read Beyond the Chocolate War. Simple.
Although the books together span a single year at Trinity High School, they were published over a decade apart. If the first is an exploration of how conformity breeds corruption and the dangers of nonconformity (and it's an oversimplification to say it is), then the second could be seen as an exploration of the ways in which that conformity and corruption is perpetuated when individuals feel isolated and alone -- just like everyone else.
The problem here is that I don't really want to talk too much about the book's plot or characters, as to do so would necessarily constitute spoilers for the first of the two books. Needless to say the books aren't simple or chock-full-of-sunshine -- The Chocolate War is one of the most challenged and banned young people's novels though measured against the movies teenagers watch, it's hard to understand why -- but they're worthwhile reads. Though the situations themselves may seem extreme at first, there is also something uncomfortably familiar about them, too.
And you read an article about a senior citizen being cruelly harassed by grade seven kids on a bus in 2012 ...
"You could have said no anytime, anytime at all. But you didn't ..."
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