Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett


The most succinct way to describe the novel Good Omens is as follows: funniest apocalypse ever! It’s the good old-fashioned, Book of Revelations style end of the world coming to life in modern England. Well, sort of.

 
I love this book! I’m not sure I loved it quite as much the first time I read it, but I feel like I understood it better this time, like I “got it,” if you will. It’s hilariously irreverent, but that irreverence celebrates humanity, warts and all, rather than being darkly cynical. The forces of good and evil alike, while not quite giving up their part in the ineffable plan, have come to the conclusion that there’s nothing they could do, for better or for worse, that humans haven’t already done to or for themselves.

Each line of this novel is sharply honed for the greatest humorous effect. There’s so much about which to laugh right out loud, most of it in that “it’s funny because it’s true” way of the best kind of observational humor. Whether it’s just the right analogy, an exaggeration or caricature of the perfect proportion, or the purest of irony, Gaiman and Pratchett are always spot-on. And Good Omens entertains from the first word to the last.

I only read this book once before and it was about 15 years ago. I didn’t remember many details at all. I do remember, however, how I came to read it in the first place. My new boyfriend at the time recommended it and lent me his paperback copy. A friend of a friend who was also familiar with Good Omens suggested that this boyfriend was a good one, because you only lend your copy of Good Omens to very special persons. I’ll have you know that I read the same copy of the novel this time around because its owner is now my husband (and has been for 13 ½ years). A Good Omen, indeed.


Coming soon: The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins


A Year of Books I've Read Before

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Wednesday Word

There's one word that pops up without fail in Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett: ineffable. Does it matter that it's used a bit irreverently throughout the novel? Of course it does. That's what makes it so entertaining.


ineffable (in ef' ə b' l) adj. 1. Too overwhelming to be expressed or described in words; inexpressible  2. too awesome or sacred to be spoken



Coming soon: some thoughts on re-reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

Monday, February 11, 2013

The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell with Bill Moyers

“A myth is a story that has power.” This is not a quote from The Power of Myth but from a particular sermon by an intelligent priest from my home town. That simple statement, while I couldn’t come up with the words for it myself, became the basis of my understanding of traditions, religions and stories in general. Fact or fiction, true or untrue, it does not matter. It is the power of the story that is important in defining it as myth.

That power of story is what is explored in The Power of Myth, the edited transcripts of the PBS series consisting of conversations between Bill Moyers, the host, and Joseph Campbell, the expert in comparative religion and mythology. I read it once before in a mythology class in college (taught by the same professor as the Tolkien class I mentioned in this post). This book is a good introduction to why any human being in the modern era would bother with such a study, but it’s also a good foundation for a few thoughts on why we might still care about myths outside of classrooms and lecture halls and PBS series.

I had a vague memory of this book leaving me feeling a bit flat, like I didn’t really “get it” the first time I read it. I was probably a kind of stupid twenty year old at the time, so I was hoping that my years of experience since then would allow me a wiser approach this time around. I wasn’t entirely disappointed, but there were quite a few passages in the book that made me think, “I’m beyond this in my own ‘journey’” or “I knew that already.”

It was when I made some feeble attempts to share some of the concepts in this book with someone else, to paraphrase, to summarize, to explain, to connect, that I realized I’ve got a long way to go. I just didn’t have the words. I had to go to Campbell and read his words to get my point across. He had the words and phrases, the facts and metaphors. I could only borrow them from him.

As an example, here is an answer that Campbell gives to Moyers about the idea of reincarnation that I think applies well in general to the concept of myth, the story that has power (although Campbell disagrees in the next line that this is a chief motif of mythological stories through time):
 

It suggests that you are more than you think you are. There are dimensions of your being and a potential for realization and consciousness that are not included in your concept of yourself. Your life is much deeper and broader than you conceive it to be here. What you are living is but a fractional inkling of what is really within you, what gives you life, breadth, and depth. But you can live in terms of that depth. And when you can experience it, you suddenly see that all the religions are talking of that.

 
Whatever the mythmakers of any time may have had in mind, their stories may still have some power for us today if we’re willing to let them, especially if we accept the stories as ways to connect us to our past, to describe our significance in the universe, to come to terms with suffering and death (our own and what we cause by being alive). To answer “Why?” to everything.


A Year of Books I've Read Before

Monday, February 4, 2013

February: So Many Books...


…so little time!
 
 

I did pretty well with my reading goals in January. I read everything I hoped to except The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, and I’ve got a good start on that. (By the way, it’s as good as I remembered.) I have great hopes of getting a few more books into this short month as well. Here is my reading plan (hope?) for the month of February:

 
 The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins (finish)

Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett

The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R Tolkien

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, because the month with Valentine’s Day should have at least a little romance in it.

 

Coming soon: my thoughts on The Power of Myth by Joseph Campbell with Bill Moyers
 

A Year of Books I’ve Read Before

 

Friday, February 1, 2013

Favorite Lines Friday

Here's something I just had to pass along from A Year at the Movies by Kevin Murphy:


The most powerful thing we as an audience could do to Hollywood is to stay away on the opening weekend. They need us in those theaters or they’re sunk. They need us more than we need them. If we don’t go opening weekend for the whole summer, studios will lose millions upon millions, and hundreds of studio executives could lose their jobs.
            Know what will happen then? They wouldn’t stop making movies, but they might stop marketing to us as if we were dull teenage boys. And, hey, maybe they’ll stop letting studio executives make creative decisions and let writers and directors do their work. Maybe they’ll take more risks, and maybe they’ll try getting us into the theaters by showing us good movies.
            Unfortunately, this will only work if the entire nation cooperates. Could you talk to your friends for me? Thanks.



A Year of Books I've Read Before