![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blodeueddWell...
Just to let you know, the last few days of no reviews were not my fault! As in, it's not my fault my internet connection suddenly disappeared. So here are some reviews, with more to come during the day. I've got some catching up to do!
With the classics, there's so much that's already been said that I don't feel the need to delve too deep, but here are my two cents.
Vanity Fair (William Makepeace Thackeray):
For a "novel without a hero", this one sure makes us root for Becky Sharp, even as we shake her head at how she uses and abuses everyone who crosses her path. What else can she do, after all, friendless and alone in all the world, with no one to look out for her? Compared to Amelia, whose artless goodness is endearing at first, but devolves into an annoying refusal to think ill of anyone with dismaying alacrity, Becky is fascinating. On the other hand, poor little Amelia (as the author himself calls her more often than not) just devolves into a pathetic mess as the novel progresses. You feel for her at first, but after a while... As we say, "Y'a des limites!"
The author's little asides about Vanity Fair, its players and their foibles are amusing, in that somewhat heavy-handed, 19th century way.
I'm curious to see the recent Reese Witherspoon adaptation, now. I've hear bad things about it, mostly about the costumes, but also about the changes made to the story and Becky's character. Reese Witherspoon would certainly make a splendid Miss Sharp (as she was superb in Election), but it she was indeed written as a toned-down, nicer version of Thackeray's character, I'll be disappointed.
The "How To Live On Nothing A Year" chapter was very good, and it just goes to show that things haven't really changed all that much. It's just that today, we call that "credit cards".
Final verdict: 8.5/10
Fushigi Yuugi, vol. 6, original Japanese (Watase Yuu):
Finally, I finished it! I just hadn't touched it in a while, is all.
Anyway, this volume details how Tamahome is brought back to Konan, and how they try to summon Suzaku, only to be foiled by Chiriko/Amiboshi's betrayal. Also, Miaka thinks about returning Hotohori's love, if only for half a second. When Tamahome does come back, there's quite a bit of funny Tamahome/Tasuki interaction. I like those two together, they're always funny. Actually, I always like
Tasuki (except in the OVAs where he apparently suffered some sort of head wound and started kissing Miaka), and he brings out the funny in Tamahome (i.e. the part of him that isn't all about staring into Miaka's eyes all day long).
One problem I have with this part is that I don't understand how come no one had asked to see "Chiriko"'s symbol. Or did they, and he had painted one on, or something? If not, it's just a case of the good
guys being too trusting, which Nakago had been counting on, but it does seem silly.
When I got to the part where they rush back to the temple, after Amiboshi's fallen in the river, and try to complete the ceremony, I was struck with an idea: what if they had completed the ceremony
properly, without a hitch, but nothing had happened anyway? What if the Shijitenchisho were just the lunatic ramblings of someone from centuries past, and the appearance of Miaka and the seishi at the same time was just some freak coincidence, but meant nothing in the cosmic scheme of things? Miaka and co. would have to have found another way to defend the country, which would have made quite an interesting story.
Another thought that occurred was that there must be some sort of limitation on the wishes. Given that the four gods seem to be forces that simply are, rather than forces that represent a concept
such as good or evil, you could theoretically wish for just about anything, right? But are the gods equal in power? The Suzaku bunch presumably know that the Seiryuu seishi are also assembling, so it's a
race to get to their respective god first, but what if Miaka wishes for Konan to be made invulnerable to Kutou's attack, and Yui wishes for Kutou to be able to defeat Konan? Who wins?
All right, enough of that. I should wait to be further along in the story before going off on those tangents.
Final verdict: 7.5/10 (not as funny as volume 5, but it advances the plot a bit more, and Miaka grew up a bit)
after the quake (Murakami Haruki) English translation:
This is a slim volume, a collection of six short stories, each one (save the last, which is longer) thirty pages long. I found it, between various manga series from the '90s, in the bookcase of a hostel A-L and I
stayed at in Okinawa, and read half of it that evening, finishing it the following morning.
The quake of the title is the Kobe earthquake of 1995, and while none of the stories take place there, the characters are affected by it, in various ways. A housewife finds herself glued to the television, watching the news; a little girl suffers nightmares because of it; a man's estranged parents might have been victims. Each story takes that as a starting point, exploring disconnected, dissatisfied lives.
As one would expect of Murakami, there's a healthy dose of the surreal running through the narratives, especially in "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo", in which a man helps a frog defeat the giant worm that lives
beneath Tokyo. Even in the stories that are more straightforward, more "realistic", there is an undercurrent of something unreal, an unseen world that the characters seem to alternately crave and fear. Each story is thematically linked to the previous one, and it's almost surprising when the final story ends on an optimistic note, whereas the others had simply ended at a point where things were about to change.
This book would probably be a good introduction to Murakami, for those who haven't read any of his work. Indeed, it contained everything I liked about The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, yet is much shorter and more easily accessible, while retaining that haunting, lucid quality I love about his writing.
Final verdict: 9/10
Just to let you know, the last few days of no reviews were not my fault! As in, it's not my fault my internet connection suddenly disappeared. So here are some reviews, with more to come during the day. I've got some catching up to do!
With the classics, there's so much that's already been said that I don't feel the need to delve too deep, but here are my two cents.
Vanity Fair (William Makepeace Thackeray):
For a "novel without a hero", this one sure makes us root for Becky Sharp, even as we shake her head at how she uses and abuses everyone who crosses her path. What else can she do, after all, friendless and alone in all the world, with no one to look out for her? Compared to Amelia, whose artless goodness is endearing at first, but devolves into an annoying refusal to think ill of anyone with dismaying alacrity, Becky is fascinating. On the other hand, poor little Amelia (as the author himself calls her more often than not) just devolves into a pathetic mess as the novel progresses. You feel for her at first, but after a while... As we say, "Y'a des limites!"
The author's little asides about Vanity Fair, its players and their foibles are amusing, in that somewhat heavy-handed, 19th century way.
I'm curious to see the recent Reese Witherspoon adaptation, now. I've hear bad things about it, mostly about the costumes, but also about the changes made to the story and Becky's character. Reese Witherspoon would certainly make a splendid Miss Sharp (as she was superb in Election), but it she was indeed written as a toned-down, nicer version of Thackeray's character, I'll be disappointed.
The "How To Live On Nothing A Year" chapter was very good, and it just goes to show that things haven't really changed all that much. It's just that today, we call that "credit cards".
Final verdict: 8.5/10
Fushigi Yuugi, vol. 6, original Japanese (Watase Yuu):
Finally, I finished it! I just hadn't touched it in a while, is all.
Anyway, this volume details how Tamahome is brought back to Konan, and how they try to summon Suzaku, only to be foiled by Chiriko/Amiboshi's betrayal. Also, Miaka thinks about returning Hotohori's love, if only for half a second. When Tamahome does come back, there's quite a bit of funny Tamahome/Tasuki interaction. I like those two together, they're always funny. Actually, I always like
Tasuki (except in the OVAs where he apparently suffered some sort of head wound and started kissing Miaka), and he brings out the funny in Tamahome (i.e. the part of him that isn't all about staring into Miaka's eyes all day long).
One problem I have with this part is that I don't understand how come no one had asked to see "Chiriko"'s symbol. Or did they, and he had painted one on, or something? If not, it's just a case of the good
guys being too trusting, which Nakago had been counting on, but it does seem silly.
When I got to the part where they rush back to the temple, after Amiboshi's fallen in the river, and try to complete the ceremony, I was struck with an idea: what if they had completed the ceremony
properly, without a hitch, but nothing had happened anyway? What if the Shijitenchisho were just the lunatic ramblings of someone from centuries past, and the appearance of Miaka and the seishi at the same time was just some freak coincidence, but meant nothing in the cosmic scheme of things? Miaka and co. would have to have found another way to defend the country, which would have made quite an interesting story.
Another thought that occurred was that there must be some sort of limitation on the wishes. Given that the four gods seem to be forces that simply are, rather than forces that represent a concept
such as good or evil, you could theoretically wish for just about anything, right? But are the gods equal in power? The Suzaku bunch presumably know that the Seiryuu seishi are also assembling, so it's a
race to get to their respective god first, but what if Miaka wishes for Konan to be made invulnerable to Kutou's attack, and Yui wishes for Kutou to be able to defeat Konan? Who wins?
All right, enough of that. I should wait to be further along in the story before going off on those tangents.
Final verdict: 7.5/10 (not as funny as volume 5, but it advances the plot a bit more, and Miaka grew up a bit)
after the quake (Murakami Haruki) English translation:
This is a slim volume, a collection of six short stories, each one (save the last, which is longer) thirty pages long. I found it, between various manga series from the '90s, in the bookcase of a hostel A-L and I
stayed at in Okinawa, and read half of it that evening, finishing it the following morning.
The quake of the title is the Kobe earthquake of 1995, and while none of the stories take place there, the characters are affected by it, in various ways. A housewife finds herself glued to the television, watching the news; a little girl suffers nightmares because of it; a man's estranged parents might have been victims. Each story takes that as a starting point, exploring disconnected, dissatisfied lives.
As one would expect of Murakami, there's a healthy dose of the surreal running through the narratives, especially in "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo", in which a man helps a frog defeat the giant worm that lives
beneath Tokyo. Even in the stories that are more straightforward, more "realistic", there is an undercurrent of something unreal, an unseen world that the characters seem to alternately crave and fear. Each story is thematically linked to the previous one, and it's almost surprising when the final story ends on an optimistic note, whereas the others had simply ended at a point where things were about to change.
This book would probably be a good introduction to Murakami, for those who haven't read any of his work. Indeed, it contained everything I liked about The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, yet is much shorter and more easily accessible, while retaining that haunting, lucid quality I love about his writing.
Final verdict: 9/10
