Hurray! A Week Off!

Phew...

Things are weird right now. School is out for the week so I can sleep in all the way up to 7:00 now. But with time off comes the pile of grading that I stupidly made for myself. I had all the assignments due by last Friday so I could have the time to grade them over the week. That made sense. But now it's about the last thing I want to do--a reality made worse by the idea that a majority of my students did not do their assignments correctly, so I've got to decide how much time I want to spend digging around on GoogleDocs to find what they turned in and what is just hanging around. Wow, that was a long sentence. The other thing that's weird about having a week off is I'm saying things like, "It's already Tuesday." Only when you have time off do you get so worked up by the second day of the work week.

I finished reading Mark Buchanan's The Rest of God. People need to read this guy's books. He's about as entertaining and insightful as a writer can be. And with this book in particular, my identity as a Seventh-day Adventist is made all the stronger (though also needs to be taken more seriously). Find any of his books, they're worth your time.

Weirdest thing--I went to California this weekend to perform the ceremony at my brother's wedding. In short, there was no wedding, and the weekend was instead plagued by emotional awkwardness. It's a good thing in the long run, but it's really stuck in my head (can't imagine how much worse for my brother).

Hopefully, life picks up and I get things done. I'm planning on getting cats to the vet, getting contacts that actually help me see, rearranging a good chunk of my house, and seeing some movies that need to be seen.

Road Trip And Books

I'm in Colorado now. The main thing I have to say is, "I forgot how miserable humidity can make life." Summers in Lincoln usually aren't that bad according to a thermometer, but with the humidity, I kind of want to die sometimes. The last few weeks, Lincoln has been in the 80s I think, but has felt like hanging out in the bowels of Satan. We rolled into Grand Junction today when it was 90 degrees and it felt awesome--just great. I stepped into the shade and instantly felt cool.

Anyhow, it feels good to be back in Colorado and hanging out with my parents. Had some homemade icecream (pure awesome) and we're trying to figure out what we're going to do for the rest of the week.

In the car, I got a lot of reading done. I read out loud for part of it--Serman Alexie's The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. Alexie is just one of those author's that everybody needs to check out. Aside from being a groovy writer, he brings the Native American life into your brain. The first book I read (The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian) of his was hilarious, but with Lone Ranger, you definately get a lot more of a depressing reality.

Also, I finished Big Fish. The film by Burton has been at the top of my list for years (though Pan's Labyrinth has been fighting for the number one spot), so I've been wanting to check out the book for quite a while. The two compliment each other well. And I liked the book quite a bit, but Wallace isn't the most stellar writer, so with a Summer filled with Bradbury, McCarthy, Alexie, and DiCamillo, Wallace just doesn't stand up as well. It's still worth while, but I like how the film took the material and wove a more cohesive story from it.

I'll try to keep updated throughout the week, but like I said yesterday, things might get busy. So at least I'll try to get some pictures up.

Reading and the Wii

My brother is moving to Guam. It's crazy to think that in a bit over a month he'll be on the other side of the planet. In the meantime, though, he's been trying to find cheap/free places to store his stuff. Most went to his in-laws' place. But to me, he gave all his movies, music, his TV, video games, and consoles. I've completely rearranged my basement and life in the aftermath. The Wii and I haven't had a lot of encounters, though I've found it pleasant on all occasions. But now that I have it, and on a better TV than ever before, I'm lost with Mario.

On the more intellectual side, I've been reading more this Summer (finally). I'm currently in the middle of The Road (that reads funny). It's awesome. I'm near a hundred pages in and I don't really want to stop reading.

Here's the conundrum: I love Mario and I love The Road. So what's a guy to do? I'm torn. It's like I'm in a crappy chick-flick and I can't decide between the fun, exciting person with no future, or the deep, meaningful relationship that doesn't bore me, necessarily, but sometimes does put me to sleep (my biggest complaint about my life--maybe to be explored another time).

I guess for now I will cheat on both and indulge as much as I can without one knowing how much I love the other...this is getting weird. I better stop now.

Not as Good as the Book Part II

So, a couple of days back at school and my predicted conversations didn't really take place at all-except for with Bryan, but the conversation wasn't how I thought it would go. Way to predict, me. Regardless, my thoughts continue, and the idea of movie/book comparisons is still one that has been digging into my brain with thumb-tack-like fingers.

First, it seems that whenever a book is taken and made into a movie, finding a reader that isn't excited is like finding a poodle in an elephant stack. This might be because a reader loves the work and knows that it will have a greater exposure if taken through the Hollywood reamer. This in itself is a statement to the power of Hollywood: we know that people are more likely to watch a film than spend the time to read a book. We know it. After the movie is released, however, readers begin the gripe session of the season. As I mentioned yesterday, this usually grows from the major differences between the two presentations of the original. I would think that most people would just accept the fact that a film studio will do as it pleases with the source material. They'll change it, you can count on it.

Second, why does one medium have to reflect the other with such purity? Maybe it's because of copyrights and whatever, but one idea, one story is rarely complete and never perfect. And even though there are one jillion and seventy-three movies and books that should not be tampered with, there are scores upon a brazillion that can be made better. It seems that people become very afraid when source material is marred and rightfully so. I would hate if something I wrote turned into a Frankenstein's monster that gets out of my hands and haunts me for the rest of my days, leaving wishing that I had never had the idea to begin with. But honestly, how many times does the public see something or read something and think, "I think that Taye Diggs should not have smiled at all. The film would have worked better," or "I just wish that Shakespeare didn't kill off everybody in Romeo and Juliet." But once an author or director finishes a work, people won't touch it with a half-score foot rod. We'll talk about things plenty, rip it to shreds over coffee, but to change something seems like a sin without pardon.

The ultimate tragedy, though, is that I don't know how long these debates and arguments will go on. Eventually, the majority will cease to read entirely and spend time only absorbing without reaction as we head closer and closer to Idiocracy. It's happening, don't deny it.

Not as Good as the Book

Today I go back to the school to get ready for this next school year. Among the conversations I'm sure I'll have over the next week before students arrive, I dread one in particular. Over the summer I read The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. Good stuff for the most part. As the summer drew to its close, I checked the movie out as well. Not so much good stuff.

I think English teachers in general like to talk about how a movie never is as good as a book, but this time things seem different. When I watched Beowulf, and enjoyed it, I knew that my colleagues would not be such fans. "Beowulf sleeps with Grendel's mother? I don't remember that in the book." But it didn't bother me. I thought it worked well because the fire dragon always seemed like this weird thing that somebody just added to the end because they couldn't think of a way to kill off the hero. So the getting it on with the sea hag made the last chapter of the film work (though I think she should have died at some point).

With The Kite Runner, a different problem rears its boring head: the film follows the book almost perfectly. And it's dull. What makes the book interesting is Amir's own guilt over everything that he has done to his friend/servant, Hassan. But the only reason one gets to see this is the first-person narrative. The film covers every event in the book, but it's all just stuff happening. Nowhere in the movie does one get the feeling of Amir's guilt. Instead one sits through a movie that feels like forever but doesn't take enough time to make anyone care.

I dread the upcoming conversations. I'm know that everybody will agree the the movie wasn't as god as the book. But I don't know that everybody will see why. I think an English teacher curse is to love a book more without taking the time to care why.

To be continued...