Thursday, April 29, 2010

A Wild Sheep Chase; REDO!!!

My first impression of A Wild Sheep Chase was that I had found a novel that for the time, perfectly encapsulated my mood and general outlook on the world. At the time of my reading A Wild Sheep Chase, I was just trying to make it day by day, taking things as they came by. It seemed as though extraordinary events would pass me by, I would have altercations with these instances, and then we would part ways. It was a very pleasant surprise then, when I delved into Murukami’s introspective, poetic noir.

Much of Western media celebrates fantastic people and ideas. Television tells me that my life is only meaningful if I risk death on a daily basis, and I have a supermodel for a wife. Murukami appears to jump in the opposite direction. From the Wild Sheep Chase, we may know only nullity. Even when confronted with explosions and intrigue and death threats, the characters that inhabit Murukami’s world are unfazed; they appear to acknowledge that mundane and fantastical are congruent. In the end of the day, one could say the only truth is existence. We go on, day by day, accepting events as they present themselves to us.

As I read A Wild Sheep Chase, I found myself simply wanting to sit down, have a cigarette, and enjoy Murukami’s prose. I enjoyed his syntax just as much as I enjoyed his subject matter; by highlighting an eclectic array of uneventful occurrences, Murukami essential wrote about nothing. That he would choose such meaningless subject to focus his beautiful and introspective writing style upon, is a fact that I find very interesting.

The method by which Murukami executed his novel aside, I found the central motifs of the story fascinating. It would appear that above all else, Murkami chose to discuss mundanity. This book fell under the topic of J horror. I believe that what is intended by this is that the real horror of life is not monsters or serial killers, but mundanity. The notion of being slaughtered by a deranged psychopath may send shivers down your spine, but is ultimately exciting, and therefore meaningful. The idea of living an average life, however, and dying within leaving the slightest impact on the world…. Now isn’t that a terrifying concept?

Idiocracy

To put it as bluntly as possible, I find people stupid, shockingly stupid, even. Imagine my joy as I watched Idiocracy, and found a slightly exaggerated view of humanity’s idiocy. The star of this Mike Judge film isn’t Luke Wilson or even Maya Rudolph; in my opinion the star of the movie is simply stupidity. If the movie was reduced simply to 90 minutes of stupid people doing stupid things, the film would be somewhat less substantial, but I doubt it would lose much of it’s appeal.

The most substantial aspect of this film that I enjoyed was the premise of the film. The general idea that humanity will continually grow less and less intelligent due to the decreasing continuation of smart genes is a rather pessimistic outlook, and yet it is one that I have very little difficulty believing. In my own experiences I have seen time and time again that the people who should never be allowed to pass on their genes, or raise children for that matter, are the first to have kids.

Aside from this one premise, the rest of the movie is really just speculation as to what the future generations of bumbling Americans will be like. This speculation is what gives the movie most of it’s appeal in my opinion. The film’s dystopian future isn’t completely unlike any other novel or film’s; we see giant corporations, mountains of trash, and the deterioration of society. These are all elements that have been noted countless times in other movies. What makes Idiocracy different is that the focus of the film isn’t dreariness through oppression, but dreariness through stupidity.

One aspect of the film’s vision of the future I found particularly interesting and humorous was the ways in which certain corporations and businesses evolved. Gatorade turns into Brawndo, the largest company in the world. Starbucks and most eateries turn into brothels; we are unsure whether these establishments are catered towards sex, food, or both. Culture, art, science, and in fact most aspects of civilized life shift their focus towards sex, or scatological humor. The sad thought, is that I have to note that I don’t feel as though modern day America is very far off…

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Prior to the release of the film adaptation of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I had read the complete series of the Hitchhiker books. I loved the first book, and continued reading the series, much to my disappointment. I felt like as the series progressed the books became less and less structured. The conclusion of the final book (the abrupt destruction of earth without buildup or resolution), felt very tacked on, I got the impression that it was Douglas Adams means of sloppily tying together the series.

My gripes with the final installments of the series aside, I enjoyed the first Hitchhiker’s. The novel oozes with cynicism and sarcasm, a trait that I’m not entirely sure the film version successfully captured. The impression I felt when reading the book was that Douglas was trying to convey his frustration with humanity. We see throughout the book that the sole surviving human, Arthur Dent, is seen as the most ignorant and incompetent being in the universe. Earth itself, is seen as utterly insignificant, as The Guide to the Galaxy; the universe’s accepted encyclopedia on everything, pages Earth as “Mostly harmless”.

I found the relentless sarcasm really enjoying to read. The book’s main purpose it seems, is to poke fun of humans and to try to make its views realize the possible folly of our illusions on grandeur.

Aside from poking fun at humanity, to book devotes much of its effort to satirizing philosophy. Much of the book is centered on the question and answer of the meaning of life, and arguably human concept. We are introduced to a race of life that has developed the technology to find this answered, and to their dismay, they find that it is 42. The result is that they devote their attention to finding the question of the meaning of life. I find Adam’s usage of philosophy in this book cuts both ways; he seams to be both asking genuine philosophical questions, and at the same time criticizing the conventions of philosophy.

Aside from asking questions of philosophy and satirizing humanity, Adams also amuses his readers by presenting a multitude of new races, creatures, planets and objects, all with fantastical and funny elements.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Ender's Game

I first read Ender’s Game around the age of 11. It remains to this day one of my favorite books. For a multitude of reasons, Enders Game was exactly what I wanted to read as a young boy. I talked to many of my friends who had encountered this book in their youths, and collectively we agreed that this book serves as a right of passage for boys who would want to advance into the level of adulthood.

What made this book so exciting to read in my earlier years wasn’t the space battles, or the menacing aliens, or the futuristic battles of laser tag. It was the fact that the protagonist wasn’t an older, role model esque character whom I would aspire to emulate, but was instead just a kid. Ender provided not an idol of something I wanted to be when I grew up, but instead an example of an intelligent, resourceful kid, who could empower me in ways that no overly muscular “He Man” or “GI Joe” character could. Card achieved this effect by portraying children as just as relevant, if not more so than adults. Throughout the book, we see time and time again that children are the real force in the book; adults may seem to manipulate and control the youths, but in the end it is the kids that hold power. This is reinforced when children save humanity. Ultimately, Ender showed me as a kid an example of children embodying genius and compassion. Ender made me feel like greatness and adventure can be obtained through intelligence and fortitude, and to some extend influenced who I am to this date.

Re reading Enders Game, I find myself both reminiscing upon the story as I read it in my younger years, and also finding new attractions in its pages. One of this book’s main components that I still enjoy to this day is its discussion on games, and their relevance the youths. As the title would suggest, games are a very important occurrence in the book; from these games we learn of Ender’s morality and intellect, we see him grow and be tested, and finally end a war. The prevalence of games and their importance to the story makes me reflect upon games in the real world; their effects and relevance to society. Aside from an escape and form of entertainment, I feel as though to some extent, games test our morality and aptitude, much as they did in Ender’s game. Based upon what a gamer chooses to play, and what decisions he makes in his gaming experience, much can be learned of a person. Much like in the game, furthermore, I feel like technology is starting to blur the lines between fiction and reality. The best example I can bring up is a modern first person sim, grand theft auto 4. I am by no means squeamish in regards to blood or violence, I’ve been brought up with violent media my entire life. When I played this game, however, for the first time, I was frightened by the realism. For the first time in my life, as I pulled the trigger of a sawn of shotgun, dispatching an innocent pedestrian, I felt the nausea and panic that can only be associated with guilt. I have to wonder that in the future, when advances in graphics plateau, games will become so close to reality that destroying life in virtual reality can be seen as crime or sin, and not entertainment.

Troll Bridge

Troll Bridge defied my expectations. I clicked its link on the spec lit resource page anticipating a fantasy story. I’ve never been particularly fond of the fantasy genre to be honest, I don’t see the appeal of reading literature focused on unimaginative make believe creatures. I’ve fantasy story or film I’ve encountered has more or less rehashed the same story with the same classes of creatures. Elves and dwarves and goblins and trolls clash or form alliances. In the end, I’m rarely surprised by a work of fantasy; the stories all feel a bit formulaic.

Troll Bridge, however, seems to satirize the convention of fantasy. While it satirizes fantasy elements, it also utilizes fantasy to communicate themes complete unnasociated with the genre. The major theme prevalent in Toll Bridge is the notion that the world is constantly in flux, and when we age we may not recognize the land of tomorrow.

Terry Pratchett tells the story of a Hero, and his talking horse, and a Troll. I was expecting a formulaic battle between the heroic humanoid and the evil Troll, but thankfully Pratchett took this story in a new direction. We learn that the Troll is not evil, but down on his luck, working a dead end job with a wife who does not support him and a son that doesn’t respect his traditions. Instead of clashing with the hero, the troll is excited that Cohen the Barbarian (a pun of Conan the Barbarian perhaps?) would choose him to slaughter. The Troll quickly realizes, that the hero no longer slays trolls to make the world a safer place, but instead robs them of their treasure to sustain himself.

As both the hero and troll realize the way that times have changed, the two halt their confrontation to conversate on the state of the modern world. We find out that the old ways by which the hero and troll still live are antiquated, and the land of magic and danger is being commercialized. It’s a sad realization for both, the two characters lament on the loss of tradition. The story concludes with the hero, much closer to death than youth, pays the Troll for the whereabouts of several other creatures who have abandoned and bastardized their heritage. We are left with a sentiment of steadfast determination as the aging hero sets off to slay a few more trolls, not due to their threat to humanity, but for their threat to tradition.

The Devil Plant

The Devil Plant was short, and twisted; two things that I rather enjoy in a short story. This tale is one of revenge and foliage. Lyle Wilson has taken the timeless tale of violent retribution, and added a relatively contemporary twist; the concept of violent, almost anthropomorphized plant. This idea was made famous in the 1960’s film The Little Shop of Horrors. The two stories are remarkably similar, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that The Little Shop of Horrors is either based upon, or a parody of The Devil Plant. In both the short story and the b-movie, the protagonist allows an almost sentient plant to feed upon human flesh. The main differences between the two are that in Devil Plant, the tree isn’t exactly sentient; his consumption of human flesh is less of a conscious decision and more of an impulse or reaction.

I enjoyed this short story. Aside from being the forerunner of the man eating plant idea, this story also delvers a compelling tale of revenge. The protagonist is beset upon at every turn by his childhood friend, Silvela. The two are supposed to be friends, and yet we see Silvela commit numerous atrocities towards the main character for his own personal gain. Twice Silvela uses his genius to befriend the establishment that our protagonist owe his allegiance to, and then profits at the expense of this establishment, getting away without any notice by incriminating the protagonist. If this isn’t enraging enough, after destroying the protagonist’s career and reputation in two different continents, Silvela proceeds to follow our hero to Australia, and steal the love of his life from him. I was genuinely angered that Silvela, a man who is supposed to be our hero’s friend, would apparently go out of his way to seek out the protagonist, and ruin his life wherever he travels. By the end of Devil plant, I desperately want to see Silvela brought to some form of justice. This is one of the reasons why I enjoyed this story so much; there is a great back story that establishes a simple but powerful relationship between the two characters. We then get the buildup wherein we know Silvela will soon meet his demise. Finally, the viewer (and protagonist), may enjoy the gruesome death of the unscrupulous Silvela

Dark City

I found Dark City a rather memorable film. The movies paranoid, dark mood had me intrigued and on edge for the entire film. Dark City had a completely distinct feeling to me, one that I felt did a great job to accentuate the movie’s themes and characters. Throughout the film, we are left with the notion that something isn’t right in this world. In the beginning, we aren’t told explicitly that there is something sinister happening underneath it all, but we still have the feeling that everything is a touch off kilter. As the movie progresses, we learn with the main protagonist the truth of the dark city; that this land of perpetual night is nothing more than an experiment orchestrated by a dying alien race. We find out that the main form of control the aliens possess over their lab rats is that their memories and therefore identities are swapped out daily; the result is that no one is an individual, ever man and woman in the city is a part of a part of a collective, ever-changing identity. What is interesting about this is that the aliens, in their pursuit to pin down the human soul, have turned humanity into a dumbed down version of themselves; everyone is a part of a collective hive mind, yet they may only access the memories allocated to them from the larger pool.

One aspect of this film I found enjoyable was certain individual’s dawning realization that something is horribly wrong in the city. We see several characters confronted with the notion that what they know to be truths are lies. These moments of confrontation where a character sees that everything they believe is deceit are some of the most gut wrenching aspects of the film. When the protagonist is trying to convince a detective of the nature of the world, he unleashes upon him a single paradigm shattering question “Have you ever seen the sun?”. The detective is forced to acknowledge that in this land of perpetual night, the only memories of sun he has are distant, fake recollections. I found it fascinating, in turn, that the way this film conveyed these fake memories was to show fleeting indistinct flashback, accompanied by a disturbing, alien sound que. We understand that what we are witnessing is a memory flashback, but we sense that something isn’t right with this recollection.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Johnny Mnemonic

My first read through of Johnny Mnemonic was a someone confused one; In the daze of being asked to read a story at 9 in the morning, I had a hard time following every detail of the story. I read through the entire piece, and followed the developments of major character and locals, but had a hard time grasping some of the secondary characters and the environment. This was in part due to my sleep depression, but also in part due to the writing style. The pace at which the story moves is pleasing for a short work; and slower and the piece might as well be constructed into a novel, yet any faster and the story would reach the point of incomprehensibility. This being said though, despite the appropriate pacing of the story, the shear amount of detail Gibson wrote into the story made it fast to keep up with the pace the story was progressing. Much of the information portrayed belonged to a completely foreign universe; that of the cyberpunk realm. Due to how unfamiliar I was with the subject matter, and the pace at which Gibson presented cyberpunk idea's, I frequently got bogged down by these fresh ideas, and found myself glossing over crucial paragraphs at a time due to my inability to process some particularly busy sentences.

That being said, I just reread Johnny Mnemonic, and found it much more enjoyable the second time around. The busy sentences and paragraphs brimming with content that I found cumbersome during my first read through provide a great expanse of material to explore upon more thorough examinations. The end result is a vibrant and original universe full of new characters, environments, and ways of thought. After hearing of our protagonists adventure through Night town, I find myself yearning to explore this grungy metropolis. Its ghetto atmosphere and urban aesthetic makes me recall nostalgically the locals of my childhood, and I have to wish that a developer had made Johnny Mnemonic into a video game so I may explore in greater depth the world of Gibson's Cyberpunk.

Bloodchild

As many people reading Bloodchild, I was fairly disturbed. It wasn't the depiction of violence, oppression, or gore that bothered me, but the Alien like creatures and their relationships with the Terrans that I found unsettling. The picture that my mind painted of T'Gatoi is a completely horrific image. I envisioned something spider like; a hybrid of a tarantula or centipede and a skeletal decaying human. This made it even further disturbing when we realize that these creatures are living amongst the Terrans, and the Terrans, or humans, carry on as though this were no big deal. I personally am made rather uneasy by the aspect of these monstrosities living amongst the humans, leaching off of them for what can only be seen as a sinister goal. We are told that the relationship between the humans and the Tlic is a symbiotic one; both organisms are benefited by the exchange. The mood of the piece though, suggests a darker reality. Perhaps it was just the way I read and therefor interpreted the story, but I felt as though the presence of the Tlic was sinister in ways that only the mother could imagine. I sensed that the mother knew to a greater extent the reality of T'Gatoi's presence in her son's life; her son on the other hand, represented the embodiment of ignorance and blind faith. This blind faith serves to heighten the grotesqueness of the story. It would already be frightening to consider a person being implanted with an alien organisms egg against their will; for this alien to impregnate a trusting, loving person is just that much more disturbing. The visceral nature of the implantation and birth of the alien's eggs also contributes to the disturbing nature of this story. The closest correlation we have on earth of to this altercation, is of course the botfly, who plants his eggs in the flesh of animals or humans only to hatch out after a period of time.
I managed to pick out some interesting themes in this story. The first, I noticed, was the similarities between the alien implantation and pregnancy/childbirth. I was very surprised to find out that Butler is not a feminist; it would make prefect sense to me that the author of this short story would hold feminist outlooks, particularly toward the act of childbirth. I personally concur with the association that may be derived between the Tlic implantation and childbirth. To me the aspect of childbirth is an alien action; some people may find it a beautiful event, I find it somewhat disturbing, and see the birth of a child as the gestation of a parasitic organism.
The other major theme I discovered in Bloodchild arose from the relationship between the Tlic and humans. To me, this relationship bared a striking resemblance between the relation of the native Americans and colonists. It appeared to me that Butler may have intended to communicate the idea that The Tlic supplied the Terrans with drugs and disease (the implantation), and exchange garnered valuable resources from the humans. In the beginning there was harsh resistance on both side, but we found in both cases that the oppressed parties eventually began to accept the fate dealt to them by the more powerful invaders.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

City of Lost Children

The city of lost children is a surrealist film that portrays a very interesting world with some rather unique characters. Arguably my favorite aspect of this film is the wide range of intriguing characters, all of whom possess striking individual characteristics; physically, psychologically and emotionally. The way these characters interact with each other is just that much more engaging due to their often opposing differences.

The best example of this is the contrast and relationship between Miette and One. Miette, while young, and small, is exceptionally mature for her age. She is the leader of a guild of thieves, and clearly can accept her own mortality. One, on the other hand, is a exceedingly large character; his most distinguishing characteristic is his strength. Ironical though, is that One is one of the least mature characters; from his hair, to his apparel, to the way he talks and interacts with other characters suggests that he has the maturity or mental state of a child. When these two characters meet, they bond in to a tight brother and sister relationship. In the end, the two eagerly risk their one life to protect the other.

Age becomes an important motif in this film. It is no accident that the two most integral characters, One and Miette have such great age differences. The film draws on this theme throughout by clashing Krank and toddlers, as Krank attempts to steal their dreams. Near the end of the film, Krank attempts to steal Miette's dreams; the resulting battle ends with Krank almost successfully draining Miette's youth.

The bond 0f family is an important theme in this film. What makes this more interesting, is the fact that with the exception of One and his little brother, family in this film is always figurative in one way or another. The bond between the experimental family (Krank, the mother, and the clones of the original) illustrates that they all consider each other family and go through no small amount of sacrifice in striving to make each other happy. This goes to show that a bond stronger than blood can be make between people unrelated.

Blade

Aside from being a typical Hollywood modern kungfu film, blade offers several points or relevance to the vampire genre, reinforcing several cliches while debunking others. The single most interesting facet of blade is that the protagonist is a supervampier; a half vampire half human that possesses all of the vampire's strengths, and yet none of their weaknesses. Blade, as he is called, is invulnerable to sun garlic and silver, interestingly enough the character is African American. I can't recall in modern history many examples of black vampires in film, so I found it interesting that the filmmakers would cast Westly snipes. The role race plays in this film raises some questions. One might wonder if there is significance in this, that the single black vampire, more resistant to sun, takes down an empire of predominantly white vampire brood.

Aside from raising racial questions, Blade breaks away from the typical vampire iconoclast in other ways. One such example that I don't see in many other vampire movies is the way in which vampires are portrayed. Blade paints the picture of vampires that are predominantly hip youth's; the scene in which the protagonist is introduced is a vampire rave. The movie's antagonist uses technology to bring about a new order within the vampire ranks; even his entertainment acts as a system of defiance to the older vampire ranks. Furthermore, it is uncommon within this film that vampires are seen in typical vamp goth attire. Many vampires don sexy white lingerie, or other fashions embraced by rave culture.

The connection between sex and vampires, however, is one way in which Blade chooses not to stray from the mold. Most of the vampires are sexually charged characters; with the exception of the older ruling class, all the vampires seem to exist in a realm of pleasure; sex and partying is seen in almost every gathering of youth vampires.

An interesting correlation to the sexual motif in the movie is the connection between sex and power. From early on in the movie, one can notice that power dictates sexual energy. In the first rave seen it is clear that the most sexually charged characters are the most powerful one's. The vampires, clearly more powerful than the sole human, give no attention to the human while a practical orgy rages on amongst the vampires in the background. Later on in the movie Blade is given a second chance at life when the female protagonist decides to give her blood to him. The bloodletting scene is very obviously a sexual metaphor, from the act itself, to the characters reactions, even to Blade's figurative climax after his thirst is satisfied.

Pulse

While I know such a comment isn't a particularly effective means of video or literary analysis, I must say I really enjoyed Pulse (Kairo). I found the film very tense; I was on pins and needles for a majority of the film. What really pleased me about this film was the successful balance between suspense and payoff. A major flaw with many horror films (American and otherwise) is that they have difficulty balancing elements of suspense and the payoff moments where the monster or antagonist is revealed. I found both the suspense and the moments where the ghosts were revealed very frightening. Particularly the scene in which a female ghost slowly walks up to one of the survivors, I found it balanced nicely between suspense and visceral thrill; the scene had no gore, and yet still managed to be frightening due largely to unnatural character movement.

Another aspect of this movie that I found particularly effective was the believability of the events that transpired. Most horror movies involve a single or group of survivors or protagonists being pursued by a single or small group of villains; this film however, pits the entire populace of the dead against the living; the end result is the rapid destruction of all living things by either self destruction or murder by the hands of the ghosts. I honestly can't remember if this happened in the American or Japanese adaptation, but one thing that really stuck out for me was how the filmmaker portrayed the death of humanity. Instead of fire, explosions and chaos, the end of mankind ended in pulse with a silent helpless despair, wherein suicide took just as many lives as the ghosts. Instead of showing solely the deaths, this movie showed the results; gradually dwindling numbers of students in class, the slowly emptying population visible on the streets. For some reason this portrayal of the end of the world made much more sense to me; the silent, remorseful demise of life made it seem that much more believable. Coupled with the explanation (technology inviting our demise), made Pulse's apocalypse almost appear plausible. I think I might go and stock up on red duct tape right about now.....

A Wild Sheep Chase

A Wild Sheep chase presented a unique literary adventure. The most striking characteristic of the novel was how un-striking it was; many of the themes and events the book grappled with involved mediocrity and blandness; it was how the novel dealt with this ideas that I found particularly interesting.

A Wild Sheep Chase follows the classic model of extraordinary events happening to someone particularly ordinary; Murukami acknowledges this fact often, infact making it an integral theme within the book. The reading isn’t allowed to escape the pressing mediocrity of the main character, even when presented with grief, intrigue, and peril, the protagonist doesn’t show an ounce of excessive emotion. Near the end, when He smashes a guitar, the reader is just as jarred as the Sheepman; up until that point the protagonist had gone about all his actions almost completely devoid of enthusiasm or concern. That he would suddenly show such a violent outburst doesn’t even feel like it comes from the same character, and sure enough, we learn that the outburst was an intentional ploy to shake up the Sheepman/rat. I found it fascinating that despite the fact that I may see a thousand simulated explosions and murders a day on television and video games, I was more than slightly disturbed by the protagonist’s outburst. I found this rather impressive, as I would never expect the author to be so successful in surprising his readers so effectively.

If this book was focused solely on mediocrity, I doubt I would have gotten past the 1st page. What truly engaged me in this book was the tone and writing style Murukami used to describe the angst of mediocrity. His writing style often digressed into an existential, flowery prose, much more poetic than descriptive. I found this use of philosophical linguistics both engaging and informing. The usage of these literary techniques contrasted nicely the prevalent mediocrity, almost as if to suggest that the blandness of the protagonist’s existence allowed a greater territory for his mind to wander. In this way, I did not find it jarring in the slightest when Murukami would drift between exposition and fluffy philosophical ramblings.

No Such Thing

The first thing I noticed about no such thing was the unique portrayal of the monster. Most often in movies, literature or gaming, the antagonist or specifically the monster is illustrated as just that: a monster. We expect monsters to be malicious, thoughtless creatures, motivated by carnal desires at best, the selfless desire for evil at worse. The monster in No Such Thing however, gives us a different interpretation of the idea of a monster.

Instead of being a thoughtless creature motivated by a will towards evil, the beast in No Such Thing seams to be more interesting in avoiding suffering. This beast is clearly intelligent, possessing a certain quality of class and dignity, despite his grotesque physical appearance. The beast appears at first glance just a temporal fluke of nature, a biological mistake. We soon see however, that this beast is not just a deformed human being. He possesses supernatural powers, such as the ability to breath fire, superhuman speed and strength, possibly even the ability to teleport. The most notable of the beasts abilities is his invulnerability, which bears great significance to the story.

It becomes clear rather quickly that while this creature was born a physical anomaly, he was later made into a monster, in that it was due to his own suffering at the hands of humans that he came to commit atrocities towards humanity. Compounding the issue is the problem that this monster cannot die; even after he has given up hope on life, death in not an option for the monster; he is forced to continue his suffering. In this way, the greatest contributor towards his monster like pathos is the lack of the human condition; he cannot die. Because this monster cannot stop his suffering, he is bound to grow more monstrous over time. It is suggested therefore; that the main reason the beast lashes out is due the frustration that he cannot end his own suffering.

zombie survival guide

I found the zombie survival guide a really fun read. What surprised me about the book was the matter of fact-ness of the literature; the book presented information in such a way as to portray zombies as factual entities that were known to inhabit our realm. At the time of reading this book I had never read such a fictional how to book, and I found the presentation very amusing. The author really committed to the presentation of his work; he did not tentatively assert the weakness of zombies, but boldly stated histories and facts regarding the monsters. This gave the book a more authoritative tone, imbuing it with a heightened sense of believability.

Aside from the presentation, I was amused as to how in depth and descriptive the book was. Zombie survival guide detailed zombie killing strategies, histories, and even debunked common zombie myths, all of which I found fascinating. What really interests me about this book is just the level of detail and effort that went into describing this phenomenon. This goes to show the level of fascination our culture has with zombies. Despite being a fictional creature, zombies have been an integral part of pop culture for such a great period of time that they are starting to gain a sense of respect or legibility. Our culture has become so familiar with the monsters that we now know there traits, how to deal with them, and even likely outcomes of their outbreak, based upon variables such as speed of outbreak, communicability, and zombie strength.

It is due in part to our cultures familiarity with the monsters that we are allowed to have books such as the zombie survival guide. Since we know how prevalent the zombie topic is within our society, one must begin to ask why are zombies so popular?

The zombie genre by no means originated in modern media such as television and video games, but one could easily state that a combination of zombie video games and movies are the main proponents of zombie’s recent popularity. The zombie genre is depicted in different lights depending on the source. In the classical resident evil school of thought, for instance, zombies are seen as lumbering beasts, only a threat due to helplessness therein of humanity. More modern adaptations within the resident evil universe however, paint zombies as the helpless beasts; hordes or the undead fall easily under the might of almost superhuman protagonists. The latter variety of the genre draws more appeal from male youths, garnering favor by playing off of the male love of carnage.

Other outlooks on the genre play off of other motifs. In both 28 days later, and 28 weeks later, the reoccurring theme is that humanity, not the infected are the beasts. The zombies are seen as thoughtless monsters, amoral and therefore blameless of the evils they commit. Humanity, on the other hand, possesses morals; this just makes it all the more harrowing when mankind perpetrates injustices more heinous than those committed by the real monsters.

Frankenstein

Marry Shelly’s classic titled offered some interesting insight as the first title in the literature of horror and science fiction class. What I find very interesting is that this title, while an iconic representation of the horror genre, doesn’t remotely portray the contemporary view on horror literature. One cannot, however, anticipate modern horror from early 1800’s literature.

I began reading this story with some expectations of the so called, origin on modern horror. I was anticipating a fast paced ride involving gruesome deaths (complete with gory descriptions), and more suspense. In short, I found the book surprisingly devoid of either suspenseful elements or visceral thrills. By todays standards I feel like the story played out more like a drama than a work of horror.

Another thing I found interesting was that there wasn't as much of a clear cut definition between monster and man, hero and villain. In the end, after hearing Frankenstein's monster's story about his attempt at integrating himself into the household of the family he spied on, I began to get the feeling that Frankenstein's monster was as much a victim as his creator, if not more so. I found it particularly shocking that Frankenstein would destroy his monsters bride; his only escape from a life of loneliness. After that event, I began to lose pity for Frankenstein. It felt as though all the suffering that had befallen him was deserved; he had the means to end his own suffering, to appease the monster and bring his family to safety. I was rather angered with Frankenstein when, after being informed that his monster only wanted a bride, he proceeded to take a rather lengthy vacation while his family members waited at the mercy of his vengeful monster. I was really pleased that even with this early crack at horror, Shelly avoided a clear cut, this is evil, this is good, portal of morality and of villains. Her characters are nuanced, and illustrate believable characters who's morality lie in a gray area instead of being completely good or completely evil. I see often time in modern literature or film that authors will try to imbue a sense of grittiness to their protagonists, or conversely a likability to their villains. I find Shelly's technique much more interesting; Frankenstein isn't obviously a good guy with a few flaws; in the end it is impossible to distinguish whether or not Frankenstein aligns more within good or evil.