Woe, Woe, Alas and Alack!

Readers: again I've derelicted my duties and stayed away longer than is probably good for me. Last time I visited you guys I was reading Dave Mitchell's Cloud Atlas and DH Lawrence's St. Mawr, both of which I have now finished. I hate when I wait too long to write about books, I won't remember all I wanted to say when I was reading them!

As for Cloud Atlas, I have nothing negative to say. I would recommend this book to everybody reading this post right now, especially since the movie is out. As far as movie adaptations go, it's one of the best and really enhances the experience of reading the novel. The film remained very faithful to the text, with only a few changes that are not unexpected (some romance, some stories expanded at the end, and, of course, a very Matrix style scene).

I started telling you all about the different sections, each one supposedly in different form: journals and letters, one is supposed to be a manuscript and one a film, another an "orison," a futuristic filmed interview. Each section is extremely intriguing, and even the one I liked least ended up as enjoyable as the rest. More importantly, it is crazy how unique the writing is in each chapter…it really feels like a different author must have been writing them, if it wasn't for the fact that each retains an essence of David Mitchell, with beautiful, poignant, affecting lines constantly begging to be re-read. The novel is never difficult and, particularly towards the half-way point, becomes nearly impossible to put down. The stories work together beautifully and every time I think about the structure of the novel I am amazed at how well-done it all is.

The structure is best illustrated in this diagram: (1(2(3(4(5(6)5)4)3)2)1) It is a testament to the message of the novel: that there is no end and beginning to life, because everyone in time and space is connected and "bound to others." It also connects to the Cloud Atlas Sextet, made by Robert Frobisher (the second and second-to-last chapters), which is described as having each solo interrupted by its successor, only for them to come back around again. Another image used in the novel to describe the structure is that of the Russian nesting doll, with every present being encapsulated by the past and the future hidden in it all, too. Past, present, and future are all resting within one another, are all part of the same story.

What I loved about the novel, though this wasn't emphasized as much in the movie, was the way the reader is given reason to doubt the reality and authenticity of any of the stories. The first chapter, the journals of Mr. Ewing, are remarked upon by Frobisher in ch. 2 as seeming to be a bit contrived. Sonmi 451, a fabricant (clone) manufactured in corpocratic future Seoul, reveals at the end of her story that all the events she told were orchestrated by the corporate-run government to deter any pureblood (non-clone) from empathizing with fabricants, who are essentially the slaves of society. The stories, however, are real. Sonmi did exist, or else she couldn't have become the god of Zachary's world (chapter 6).

I also finished St. Mawr, but though I loved it I don't have as much to say on it. It was very...Lawrentian, with Lou, the protagonist, finding the absence of any "blood conscious" men in her world and subsequently dealing with the hopelessness this realization leaves her with. Mind consciousness emphasizes the intellectual aspect of oneself and is filtered through the eyes. Men like Lou's husband represent this, as is shown through their sexless marriage. On the other hand Phoenix and Lewis, the groomsmen, are primitive and sensual, very much exhibiting blood consciousness. St. Mawr is perhaps the strongest image of blood conscience in the book; as a "fiery" and wild horse, he is the perfect candidate for the role. The problem is that Lou recognizes that she would not find happiness with either of the groomsmen, for they are crass and missing that which Rico has and which would make them more balanced: mind conscience...and, of course, she cannot be with the horse. She eventually realizes that instead of living with men who would never satisfy her, instead of living in a world she saw as overcome by evil, she rather find happiness. She retreats to a solitary farm where the wild nature replaces what Rico, Phoenix, and St. Mawr were unable to: the blood conscious she needs.

For the past two years or so I've been reading Joseph Heller's Something Happened, a hilarious, depressing, exciting, unbelievable novel that is, in essence, a continual inner monologue of the protagonist Bob Slocum. An "average" man, he is married, has three kids, and works in an office that could be any office in America. The whole book pretty much repeats the same things over and over: he hates his wife, though he might love her; he loves his son, but doesn't feel adequate in his dealings with the son; and he pretty much hates his daughter. His last child, Derek, is somehow challenged and Bob wishes Derek didn't exist at all. Bob frequently cheats on his wife; he is hoping for a promotion (his coworkers have names like Green, Horace White, Brown, Black, etc.). He is full of complexities and contradictions, and he misses when he himself was a child and living with his siblings and parents. As told in the first line of the novel, he gets "the willies" from closed doors. And at the very, very end something does happen. I wouldn't ruin that for any readers, of course, but I will say it is unexpected, sad, yet still dealt with hilariously.

It took me so long because I found the book extremely overwhelming, with the constant repitition and how mean he often is to his family. Though obviously a little exaggerated, it still made it easy to put down for long periods of time. I always managed to pick it up again, though, and once I did it always sucked me in for a while. The lack of plot and the few amount of characters make it nearly impossible to forget anything from the novel, and this was true even until this last time I picked it up. I only had about 200 pages left and they flew by. It seemed even better (funnier, more honest, more sad) this time around than I'd remembered; it's just too funny and very, very often too true. The title of the post, "woe, woe, alas, and alack," is from Something Happened; I loved it and it seems to sum up most of the book!

I am currently reading Vladimir Nabokov's Pale Fire; another great read assigned in class, namely Psychological Novel. I don't know what I was expecting from the novel, but it sure wasn't a 1,000 line poem! Lolita was one of my favorite books ever, ever, so I'm extremely excited to be reading Nabokov again, especially this particularly text, which is highly praised. I'm not too far in but am definitely surprised by it. I really want to understand and work with it. As this post is growing, I won't say more until later.

I'm still overwhelmed by books, even though I've finished four since Gravity's Rainbow. I'm reading Jack London's Call of the Wild but that's alright; Women in Love is also in whatever bag I may be using at any particular moment, but as Pale Fire is taking my time I am waiting to give that the attention it deserves. DH Lawrence demands that type of attention! Also, Junot Diaz's The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao was assigned for another class, and though I have read it once before, I would be remiss if I didn't take the opportunity to re-visit it! To make matters worse, A Woman Who Died a Lot, Jasper Fforde's most recent addition to the Thursday Next series, is out. I've read all six of them, as well as the first book of another series he recently started called Shades of Gray (it came out before everyone's favorite 50 Shades and they're nothing the same!). What a surprise--I LOVE JASPER FFORDE. He is hilarious, extremely imaginative and witty, and able to create a world (well, two) so real I am literally transported there when I read. And as many reviews online say, it's great for other avid readers, as it's filled with literary allusions of all sorts. He manages to create, always, a well-balanced, exciting plot without sacrificing wit, humor, and good writing.

Well, that's all for now, guys! Thanks for reading! I'll be posting pictures later today.