Category Archives: Fiction

Revisiting a Classic on It's 50th Anniversary

What ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ Isn’t

Allen Barra writes, “Georgia had Flannery O’Connor and Carson McCullers; Mississippi had William Faulkner and Eudora Welty; Louisiana inspired the major works of Kate Chopin and Tennessee Williams. Alabama had. . . Well, while Zora Neale Hurston and Walker Percy were born in Alabama, those two great writers didn’t stick around my home state for long. And as for Harper Lee—Alabama born, raised and still resident—she doesn’t really measure up to the others in literary talent, but we like to pretend she does.”

Great Divorce to be filmed

The Thinklings report that there’s a deal to film C.S. Lewis’ The Great Divorce. The people who made “The Stoning of Soraya M.” are part of the project. The links are a rabbit hunt, so I’ll just link to their post.

I have a hard time thinking of a more naturally un-cinematic novel than The Great Divorce.

But they have my good wishes.

Book Review: Hollywood Witches, by Thomas M. Sipos

For the record, I received a copy of Thomas M. Sipos’ comic horror novel Hollywood Witches by way of S. T. Karnick of the American Culture, for review purposes.

I love a good Hollywood story. The town’s like an old trollop with a million tales to tell, proud of her very corruption. Not for nothing is the Hollywood fable a traditional setting for morality tales (a triumph of hypocrisy in itself).

Thomas M. Sipos’ novel shows considerable promise and delivers a number of laughs, but gets weighed down by its lack of narrative discipline.

The chief eponymous witch of the story is Diana Däagen, a figure of satire, gargantuan in her vices and terrifying in her lack of self-awareness. A failed actress, she now works as “development executive” in a movie studio. She believes herself intensely spiritual and full of love for all humankind, but that doesn’t prevent her from treating her underlings like dirt, using black magic to thwart or kill her enemies, and planning to murder thousands of people at once—all for enlightened, politically correct purposes, of course.

There is no subtlety in Diana’s character. If you like characters in novels, even bad characters, to have sympathetic sides, you won’t find one here. Diana is pure black-hat witch, evil all through.

But of course she’s a Hollywood production executive, so that doesn’t strain credibility much. Continue reading Book Review: Hollywood Witches, by Thomas M. Sipos

Sad Kids' Movies

Time has a list of 10 saddest kids’ movies, in light of the minor-key note played by Toy Story 3. If you start with Bambi, you can click through the list to see trailers, clips, and explanations.
We watched Toy Story 3 over the weekend and loved it. It gets intense at the end, and two of my girls didn’t like that part, but overall it was a great story. All three Toy Story movies are good and funny. The latest edition is great tale of loyalty and purpose, and it’s moving because I’m sure viewers want to have real friends who are faithful like the toys are.

Austerity in the Shire

Our friend Dale Nelson has sent me the text of an article he wrote for the Tolkien ‘zine, Beyond Bree. I know of no way for you to get it without subscribing, but I can quote a bit here (I hope), and point you to his source material, the book Austerity Britain, by David Kynaston.

Everybody knows that hobbits love to eat good food. Tolkien’s attention to butter, bread, strawberries, potatoes, and other good things has bothered some readers. It isn’t just that hobbits display a childish greediness, but that the author seems mostly to approve of their passion for food. Moreover, some readers may feel that Tolkien makes too much of other creature comforts, such as hot baths, tobacco, and comfortable beds….

Kynaston’s book, drawing on diaries, letters, Mass Observation interviews, and other documents, superbly evokes the dismal condition of postwar Britain (1945-1951). This is the period in which Tolkien was finishing the writing of The Lord of the Rings…. The postwar austerity period became so grim that, in spring 1948, “as many as 42 percent of people wanted to emigrate, compared with 19 percent immediately after the war” (p. 249). I don’t suggest that this is the reason that departure (from the Shire; from Middle-earth itself) is such an important theme of LOTR, but I do think the theme would have a poignancy for Tolkien and his fellow citizens that readers today, especially Americans, would not suspect….

Reading Austerity Britain may prompt Tolkien’s readers to reconsider before criticizing or mocking his celebration of the creature comforts that were in such short supply while The Lord of the Rings was being written. And although the Shire is restored by the book’s end, I now see that LOTR is a book about emigration—think of the Elves’ departure, but especially of Frodo’s, at the Grey Havens. I will always think of The Lord of the Rings, hereafter, as an “austerity” book.

Disposable Mailer

Algis Valiunas at Commentary writes on the legacy of Norman Mailer.

Capote showed Mailer the way by sympathetically detailing the character of one of the murderers, who like Gilmore seemed fated to suffer and inflict hell on earth; but Capote also did what Mailer did not, which was to portray the victims in their appealing humanity, to render the full horror of their final moments, and to emphasize what was lost by their deaths. With the rapt intensity of a man staring into a cobra’s eyes, Mailer gazes into and cannot look away from human malignancy, which seems the most riveting subject a writer can have and which he congratulates himself for searching so boldly again and again. If only he did not love it so.

I just wish Valiunas would stop holding back, and tell us what he really thinks of Mailer.

Caution for disturbing subject matter.

Tip: The Paragraph Farmer.

Dynamite and other destructive forces

Loren Eaton at I Saw Lightning Fall reviews Andrew Klavan’s Dynamite Road, and–to my horror–is not entirely sure what to think about it.

It makes sense, then, in telling such a story to join tough-guy mystery with breakneck thriller. What seems a little odd is the unabashed romanticism infusing the proceedings.

I’ll tell you what to think about it, Loren! It’s brilliant! It’s a timeless masterpiece! It will outlive us all!

I’m sure he’ll come over to my view once he’s read the rest of the trilogy.

If not, I have ways to persuade him…

We had bad weather in Minnesota last night, but it came not near me. Here at Blithering Heights we had rain and clouds, and weird light that would do a Broadway stage production proud, but nothing serious. However, down in Rochester where I had supper Sunday night, they did have serious property destruction (three people were killed in small towns in the area).

I thank God it wasn’t worse. One feels a strange, irrational chill when a disaster happens somewhere you recently visited, even though technically it wasn’t anything like a near miss. Strange to think that there was wreckage strewn across Highway 52, on which I drove.

But I’ve given it a lot of thought and have concluded (tentatively) that it probably wasn’t my fault.

Is Beck's Novel a Screed for Extremists?

The Washington Post thinks it is. Steven Levingston, senior editor of Book World, states Glenn Beck’s purpose for The Overton Window is not educational fiction, but to incite rebellion. Levingston states, “If the book is found tucked into the ammo boxes of self-proclaimed patriots and recited at “tea party” assemblies, then Beck will have achieved his goal. . . . The danger of books like this is that radical readers may take the story’s fiction for fact, or interpret the fiction — which Beck encourages — as a reflection of a reality that they must fend off by any means necessary.” Books like this, he claims, are what end up inspiring people like Timothy McVeigh.

A book for terrorists. Really?

In related stories on Beck’s novel, Newsweek’s reviewer only read ten pages and talks about another book in the article.

Saint Julian, by Walter Wangerin Jr.

The legend of Saint Julian the Hospitaller seems to have risen in the Middle Ages, and is today considered entirely folklore. Possibly inspired by the story of Oedipus, it tells of a young man of noble family cursed to commit an appalling, shameful crime. As with Oedipus, his very efforts to make the crime impossible actually bring it about, but Christians added the element of redemption, a demonstration that no crime is beyond the mercy of God.

Author and clergyman Walter Wangerin Jr. has written Saint Julian, a version of the legend (published 2003) in his own dreamy, poetic style. It’s not his best work, but it’s worth reading for those with eyes to see.

Medieval Christians believed that Julian lived at the beginning of the Christian era, but Wangerin places it in the epoch that produced it—somewhere in the Middle Ages, apparently during the Crusades. His book combines the classic style of the hagiographical tale with the allegory of Pilgrim’s Progress. Julian is a sort of Everyman, or Everychristian. Born to many advantages, blessed with physical beauty and rich natural gifts, he falls—almost innocently, one might say—into the sin of pride, seeing no need to curb his desires. His immoderation leads to a great sin, which brings upon him the curse of the tale. And when he commits his crime, it is again because of his intemperance. What follows is a long journey to discover the miracle of grace, a journey in which God is always guiding, generally unseen, along hard and painful roads.

Saint Julian lacks the emotional peaks and valleys that broke so many of our hearts in Wangerin’s greatest novel, the delightful The Book of the Dun Cow. In his attempt to mimic the style of medieval chroniclers, the author starts the book slowly, and probably loses a lot of readers along the way. The very universality of his themes tends to make the characters one-dimensional, like figures in a Gothic church painting.

Fans of Wangerin will enjoy Saint Julian, but not consider it his finest work. Those new to him would do best to start with The Book of the Dun Cow.