The Power of Imagination

Albert Einstein once said "imagination is more important than knowledge." Children of all ages know this better than anyone because most children, at one point or another, have an imaginary friend. When we're young, we're capable of surprising depth and intelligence in creating these imaginary friends - they have names, backgrounds, answers to any questions an adult might ask as a way of indulging the child. In some cases, imaginary friends are a child's best friends.

But eventually we grow up and grow out of that phase. Sometimes we remember our imaginary friends and sometimes we don't. But what would happen if we suddenly saw our imaginary friend as an adult? What would we think?

In Sundays at Tiffany's, a new book by James Patterson and Gabrielle Charbonnet, Jane Margaux is a lonely little girl with a wonderful imaginary friend, Michael. When Michael has to leave her on her 9th birthday, he promises that she'll forget him. Only Jane doesn't forget - not at all. And several years later, when Jane is all grown up, she sees Michael again. Is he still imaginary and she's just crazy? Is he real and just doesn't know it? In this unusual love story, only time will tell for sure.

The novel is sweet, in some cases overly saccharine, but it's also clever and fun. Jane is a relatable character, both as a child and as an adult. Michael is perfection personified - every thing a girl both young and old would want in a friend and lover. The real fun of this novel is in trying to figure out just what is going on. Is Michael real? Can he and Jane even be together? It's a love story with unexpected thrills and, of course, a happy ending that proves Mr Einstein correct: imagination is more important than knowledge.

Outwit, outplay, outlast

2009 is only two months old and we've already had two significant plane disasters - one ending in a heroic Hudson landing, the other ending in sorrow and fire. There are obviously differences between the two incidents, including time of day, weather conditions, pilots, etc. But it does raise the question: why - and how - do some survive and others don't?

In a new book by L.A. Times writer Ben Sherwood, that question and many others are explored as Sherwood looks for insight into the survival phenomenon. The Survivors Club: The Secrets and Science That Could Save Your Life delves into the mystery of survival, interviewing numerous people who have triumphed over near-death experiences. Combining first-hand survival stories with facts and figures, Sherwood attempts to figure out why - and how - some people survive while others don't.

A lot of Sherwood's research is practical: what do you do when you're impaled with a foreign object? How do you find your way when you're lost in the woods? Then there are the pieces of survival trivia that are oddly helpful: you have 90 seconds to leave a plane crash before the cabin temperature becomes unbearable; being left-handed can affect your mortality. But beneath the nifty facts and tips lies the old-fashioned but nonetheless truthful adage: there is such a thing as the power of positive thinking. Attitude, it seems, plays an important role in survival. If you think of yourself as a survivor, then you will most likely be one.

Sherwood's book is also interactive. Every book comes with an access code to a website where you can take quizzes to determine your survival profile and IQ. That is, if you want to know. Me? I'm exploring the option of traveling with a portable safety bubble. Just to be on the safe side.

Hollywood's Novel Problem?

It's Oscars Night in Hollywood and everyone is getting ready to find out which movies and actors are the best. And, as usual, there's talk about the movies that were made from books. It isn't a new topic at all. I've written about book/movie adaptations before myself. But in a new article on Slate, Willing Davidson makes a few interesting points I hadn't considered before.

First, he makes the distinction between movies based on "popular" books (i.e., the Harry Potter books and movies, the Jason Bourne franchise - all, presumably, with "ready-built brand appeal") and movies based on "literary" books. With regards to the latter, Davidson refers to books that are somehow more literary than other books. According to him, "literary" books don't make good movies. He uses recent movies The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Revolutionary Road as examples of - in his opinion - terrible movies made from great books. I don't quite understand why a "popular" book makes a better movie than a "literary" one, but I do understand that some authors write in such a way that it would be nearly impossible to translate the silences on a page into silence on a screen.

Davidson's second point is one that's simultaneously simple and complex: "Novels are long, but movies are short. It's impossible to encapsulate the tonal shifts of a book like Revolutionary Road in a feature-length film, no matter how long those two hours feel." He's right, of course - books contain so much more than what can be shown on screen. Movies are about telling a story within a set time period. Books allow for much more character development. But saying that books are long and movies are short doesn't fully answer why some books do make successful transitions to the silver screen.

Davidson seems to be of the doubting persuasion - he's inclined to think the books are always better than the movies. I usually fall into that category as well. As a general rule, the books are better than the movies. But, at the same time, I'm also willing to suspend my disbelief and appreciate a movie adaptation for itself: a movie that bears some similarities to a well-loved book. So perhaps the question isn't "why are the books always better than the movie?" Maybe the question is "why do we feel the need to constantly compare the two, when each medium has its own strengths and weaknesses?" Instead of complaining about the terrible movie adaptation, maybe we should just appreciate the movie for what it is, rather than bemoaning what it isn't.

(For a reminder of the literary origins of some of tonight's Oscar nominees, read my previous post on the subject.)

A Kindle Owner's Response

Yesterday, I talked about why I just couldn't warm up to the Kindle. Today, I came across an article on MSNBC.com in which a Kindle owner talks about why she likes it and why she uses it, even as a book lover.

According to this one Kindle owner, it's about "getting people to love books again. Making books less intimidating — a 50-page short story and a 800-page novel look the same when you hold them in your hand — and more likely to fit into your every day." Still, even she admits to missing the good, old-fashioned paper books: "I do love my paper books more. If there’s a book that I truly love … and I especially like to loan books to friends … I’ll read the Kindle version then I’ll go out and buy the paperback."

I can respect those who like the Kindle. Heck, even my brother has one. But I guess I'm still not convinced. Maybe I will be when the Kindle 3 or Kindle 4 comes out. Until then, it's regular ol' paper books for this bookworm.

The Kindle Question

Amazon.com recently released the Kindle 2, an updated version of its wireless reading device. The Kindle is basically like a Palm Pilot, a Blackberry or an iPhone, but for books. Users can download books, magazines and newspapers to the Kindle and then take it anywhere. Read in the middle of a forest! Bring ten books on your business trip without all the heavy dead weight!

I’ll admit the Kindle is rather impressive. With Amazon’s expansive stock of Kindle-ready materials, you can get just about any book you want. And there’s probably an argument to be made about the “green” aspects of the Kindle. Oh, I’m sure there’s carbon involved in the making and shipping of the device. But the Kindle lets you buy as many books as you want, without involving any paper. I suppose you can say the Kindle helps reduce paper waste.

The Kindle seems to be all the rage right now and yet… I’m just not that into it. It does seem much more practical than figuring out how to pack five books into a suitcase, as I am prone to do. And it even boasts an improved display that “reads like real paper; now boasts 16 shades of gray for clear text and even crisper images!” But I’m still not convinced.

Maybe I’m just an old-fashioned kind of girl, but there’s something very cold and impersonal, almost sterile, about the Kindle. I’m all for reading and I know I live in the 21st century, where technology is integrated in nearly every aspect of life… but the Kindle just doesn’t appeal to me. It takes away the part of reading that I love best – the actual book itself. There’s something about the physical books themselves that make reading exciting. The actual physical book can play a role in how you experience the story. Each book has a different cover with different colors. Some books are thick and heavy, others lightweight and thin. Each publisher or printer can choose a different font, making the words themselves different in each book. A brand-new book has an unbroken spine, while anyone can tell which books are well-loved from their worn spines and bindings. I actually get satisfaction from turning the page, from not knowing what might happen ten pages from now. There's even smell involved, as books and paper evoke certain memories.

I like “de-plugging” from my cell phone, my computer, my iPod and picking up an actual book. Think about it. It’s a cold, wintry night. The wind is howling, but you’re safe insight your warm home. The fireplace crackles and the flames flicker, throwing dancing shadows on the wall. You curl up on the couch (or in your favorite chair) with a mug of tea and an oversized wool blanket. You’re content, you’re happy and you pick up… your Kindle? It just doesn’t fit. As great as the Kindle may be, it just can’t replace the experience you get with a good, old-fashioned, regular book.

Love is a many-spendored thing

Happy Valentine's Day, bookworms!

Love in literature is a favorite theme that most authors explore at one point or another. Maybe it's because love is universal or perhaps it's because some of the greatest stories are love stories. Either way, literature is replete with tales, poems, plays, odes and novels all about lovers and the trials they must overcome.

Here is my list of some of the greatest literary lovers of all time:

• Elizabeth and Darcy from Pride and Prejudice - it's definitely not love at first sight for these two; rather, she thinks he is proud and arrogant; he finds her plain and argumentative. But true love always prevails in the end and Lizzie and Darcy are Austen's greatest match.
  
• Anna Karenina and Count Vronsky from Anna Karenina - She's married. He's an army officer who pursues her. Their love survived an illegitimate pregnancy, adultery and being shunned by proper society before Anna throws herself under a train. Not a happy ending, admittedly, but as we'll see from the rest of this list, love doesn't always mean a happy ending.
• Romeo and Juliet from Romeo and Juliet - Shakespeare's classic has stood the test of time and is still the best-known romance around. These star-crossed lovers were destined to be together, despite their families' feud, and they did anything to stay with each other - even if it meant death.
  
• Lancelot and Guinevere from various myths and legends - He was the king's favorite knight, she was the queen. Their relationship represented the ultimate in forbidden affairs and threatened the peace and stability of an entire kingdom. With the Knights of the Round Table weakened due to their indiscretion, Lancelot and Guinevere eventually fled Camelot and lived the remainder of their lives separated from each other, in solitude.
• Paris and Helena from The Illiad - When most people fall in love, it's easy and effortless. When Paris fell in love with Helena, he started the ten-year Trojan War. According to most ancient sources, Helena was the most beautiful woman in the world, the "face that launched a thousand ships." Paris took her from her husband and brought her to Troy. Alas, their love wasn't to last, as Paris died during the war and Helena was reclaimed by her first husband, Menelaus.
• Catherine and Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte's doomed lovers started out as childhood friends. Though inseparable as children, they each marry others, denying their true love. And let's be honest - Cathy and Heathcliff were never going to win any popularity or congeniality contests. Still, they seem to achieve in death what they could not in life - real happiness with each other.
  
• Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind - There's a lot to say about this couple, two people who simultaneously loved and hated each other, but really, when it comes down to it, everything can be summed up with one classic line: "My dear, I don't give a damn." With seven little words, Rhett perfectly sums up his entire relationship with Scarlett.
  

There you have it, bookworms. 7 classic literary lovers to consider this Valentine's Day.

R.I.P, Washington Post Book Review

It seems nothing is safe in our current economy, including books and the newspapers that review them. The New York Times recently reported that the Washington Post's Book Review would no longer be published as a separate section of the newspaper:

In another sign that literary criticism is losing its profile in newspapers, The Washington Post has decided to shutter the print version of Book World, its Sunday stand-alone book review section, and shift reviews to space inside two other sections of the paper.... Book World was one of the last remaining stand-alone book review sections in the country, along with The New York Times Book Review. The Post’s move comes as the company, like most other newspaper businesses across the country, has been hobbled by a protracted downturn in advertising.

Alas, bookworms, it seems nothing literary-related is safe from the proverbial axe during these trying times. And brings up an interesting conundrum: if there were no reviewers to review books, does that mean the books aren't any good? Or conversely, does it mean that all books are good? Hmmmm....

A great ring of pure and endless light

I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
All calm, as it was bright.
And round beneath it, Time, in hours, days, years,
Driven by the spheres
Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world
And all her train were hurled.

("The World," Henry Vaughan)

I recently finished re-reading Madeleine L’Engle’s A Ring of Endless Light. Growing up, it was one of my favorite books because the protagonist, Vicky, got to swim with dolphins and meet a cute guy. I didn’t really appreciate L’Engle’s messages beyond the surface plot until I re-read the book as an adult.

For an author who wrote several “children’s” books, L’Engle never really pandered to children the way some authors do. Her books aren’t “easy” to read, but that just makes them so much more worthwhile. She pushes readers beyond the story she’s telling, to make them question and ponder some of the same issues her characters do. Yes, Vicky swims with dolphins and meets a cute guy, but she’s also grappling with her grandfather’s impeding death, what it means to be alive and even something that resembles telepathy.

As an adult, I appreciate that L’Engle doesn’t “dumb down” her writing just to appeal to the masses. I think she wants children (and adults too) to try something more than the standard story. Her books are filled with wonderful allusions to other authors, Bible quotes, poets, and literature. As a child, most of that went over my head, but as an adult more familiar with those she references, it adds such richness and depth to her work. I love that she doesn’t explain her allusions. It’s almost as if she’s challenging to reader to go find out for themselves who or what she’s talking about. (J.K. Rowling employs a similar approach. She once told readers to “go and look it up. A little investigation is good for a person” when asked about the origin of a particular phrase in her books.)

While L’Engle is (mostly) classified as a children’s author, I find her books much more universal. Not only can I appreciate them more fully as an adult, but I also find new ways of looking at her writing. I’m always thinking about something when I’ve finished re-reading on her books. And that, I think, is her real genius: the ability to write books that stimulate readers and continue to challenge them, long after the last page is read.

The Rules of Reviews

In a recent Omnivoracious post, blogger Tom Nissley made a somewhat throw-away comment about Orson Scott Card reviewing his own book (i.e., Ender's Game) on Amazon.com. Though the post itself was about something else, I was intrigued by the idea that authors might actually lurk around reviewing sites and maybe sometimes even offer their own reviews.

I assume the review of the book really is from Card, though I have no way of authenticating it. But I'm not entirely interested in the content of his actual review (in which he more or less defends his book against some of the more negative reviews already on Amazon). I'm more interested in the ethical issues it raises.

Amazon.com is an open site, meaning anyone can sign up and review books. It's one of the aspects that first made Amazon different from other book-selling websites. So naturally, if anyone can sign up, authors could write reviews of their own works. And because the Internet thrives on anonymity, there's no rule that says the reviewer - any reviewer - has to use his or her real name. So, conceivably, an author could give an "anonymous" review of his or her book and no one reading the reviews would ever know it was really the author. (For the record, Card does sign his own name at the end of his review.)

This is where I have the problem. I'm not opposed to authors communicating with readers on message boards or even offering a review (or defense, as the case may be) of their own work. I do have a problem when it's done anonymously. Amazon's rating system involves 1-5 stars and a written review. You can't write a review without giving the book a star rating. Those star ratings are also used in searches and to determine popularity in specific genres. In Card's review, he points this out:

First, I'm embarrassed, as the author, that I have to give a rating in "stars" in order to comment here. But since I do have to do so, I'm not about to bring down the average by rating my own book any less than five .

If an author could comment on his or her own work, without identifying him or herself as the author, then they could also bump up the average rating. As someone who uses those ratings to choose between the many options provided by Amazon, I would worry if the ratings weren't "authentic," meaning that actual readers were providing real-world feedback.

Card's review of his own work opens a proverbial can of worms: should authors be allowed to review their own works? If so, should they be required to disclose their identity to the readers of those reviews? And what about the inherent flaws in a rating system designed to be democractic?

Food for thought, bookworms!