Getting Emotional About Worlds Outside Our World

*Oi! Spoilers ahead? Maybe?

I’ve talked about something like this before (actually a number of times), but here we go again:

We all thought we were ready... The stunned silence
afterwards told us that we weren't

A lot of people were shocked recently (even if they knew what was going to happen after reading the books) by the “Rains of Castamere” episode of Game of Thrones, specifically those scenes regarding what is known as the “Red Wedding”. People took the internet with their pains, my sister’s boyfriend claimed he was in “mourning,” and many people were just incredibly distraught by the whole thing. Yes yes, particularly if they hadn’t read the novels and “didn’t see it coming,” but trust me, even though I knew what was going to happen it was still shocking (but no, I haven’t read the books yet, I’m so sorry). This event was like one big, collaborative moment of pain for cable television viewers, and it made many people emotional. But of course, with this, you also get that one person who has to chime in with their feelings of superiority and say things like, “It’s not even real, I don’t know why you’re upset about it.” And that’s what I want to talk about: why I personally think it’s okay to become invested in fictional things. I mean, everyone has cried in a book or a movie or something like that at one point in his or her life, right?

I know, at this point it probably sounds like I’m just defending myself and my “feels” as the many internet fangirls may call them (shh, I might just be one in some respects too). And maybe I am too invested and concerned with these fictional worlds and not enough with the real people in my life, but I really don’t think so, because I know where the line is between fantasy and reality and what’s important in life, and yes, maybe this is the kind of thing that makes me happy, so why wouldn’t I want to spend time doing and thinking about the things I love? But when it all comes down to it, maybe with all these other people “feeling” and making connections to these fictional things on a regular basis, it shouldn’t be seen as a thing that really needs to be defended, you know? Is that making sense? Oh it doesn’t matter, you’ll think what you want to in any case, but I’ll lay it down anyways.

This past season of Downton Abbey was a rough one for me.
I don't really want to talk about it...

The way I see it, being able to create fictional worlds and characters that spark emotion in us is a mark of the human ability of creation, creativity, and imagination. And also, as an extension, in visual mediums such as film and television, having actors portray these characters in ways that make us feel for them is a mark of the talent of these actors and actresses. And finally, the fact that people can become so touched by these beings that they know for a fact are not real as though they are real could be seen as a measure of the human capacity for empathy: we experience joy and pain through other’s joy and pain, even if we may not know them or they may not even exist, because even though the people we see may not be real, they are often experiencing real human issues that we can relate to. Just like Evey says her father always said in V for Vendetta (the film for sure, but also the book? It’s been forever since I’ve read it, give me a break): “Artists use lies to tell the truth.” So it’s not real but it is real, or at the very least, it could be real, if not in the exact same situation, but a similar one.

If this whole thing wasn't sad enough,
Martin Freeman was sure to break me even more.

I know I’ve talked before about how I don’t really get into sports all that much (with some exceptions: woohoo, figure skating!), but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand how and why people become so obsessed and invested in it. What I don’t understand, however, is why it is seen as more socially “acceptable” to be so wildly into sports (and even music, it seems), but not into something like film or other general “geek” culture? Both are testaments to human abilities, it’s just that one is testing our bodies and their physicality, while the other is an exploration of our imaginations. I don’t understand how certain sports fanatics can dress in all their teams’ colours all the time, paint themselves up and chant wildly, or wear cheese on their heads in seemingly ridiculous sports dress-ups without anyone looking twice, yet as soon as a comic book fan cosplays as one of their favourite characters it is seen as “weird”. Although, taking all that into account, I must say, in recent years, this kind of activity has become more socially “acceptable” as it has reached a wider audience over time: we can constantly see more and more entertainment expos and conventions popping up or getting larger as more people embrace this kind of entertaining culture. Seriously, I love comic conventions, and the Calgary Expo was absolutely incredible this year (I plan on going again, yes, I loved it that much).

Remember how cute and happy Ianto once was?
Remember how people made a shrine to him in Wales
after he died (which is still there)?

But there is still this little thing about why becoming emotionally invested and connected to certain things is seen as “more okay” than others: why is it alright (and almost expected) for me to cry watching The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, but not at the end of that Supernatural episode where Charlie was reading The Hobbit to her comatose mother like she always did when she was a child? I’ll admit, I got pretty wrecked by that. And it almost seems as though some stories seek out to make you emotional (I’m looking at you, War Horse, and I ain’t falling for it) yet if you admit to it with other things (yeah, just stay with imagining another Supernatural example for this one while we’re already at it) it’s seen as weird or ridiculous? Is this a high-brow/high-art versus low-brow/non-art thing? How bourgeoisie, except I’m using that ironically, I hate it when that term is used seriously, but that’s beside the point...

I tried so hard but I couldn't stop my hands from shaking in the stupid
finale of  SPN Season 8. "Sacrifice?" Sacrifice my happiness, more like.

The point is, you follow a character who is made so well by their creator, and you can’t help but become interested in their lives. But of course, there is a line that can be crossed: mixing reality with fantasy, or becoming a little too dependent on these fake lives, as though you are living vicariously through them. We need to remember that even though the feelings and emotions are real, the person and the world they live in is not. We have to live for ourselves, but if in reading about or seeing how these characters experience things we learn a bit about humanity or emotion or how to handle certain situations, or even ourselves? Well I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all.

So cry your heart out, have favourite characters, dress up as them for fun (that’s right, not just for Halloween), and discuss these fake “friends” of yours in depth as though they are real people: I’m sure the person who wrote these fictional things would be delighted to hear about the joy and realism you are finding in their works. And at the end of the day, it may seem like I am obsessed with film and books and television based on what I talk about all the time, but it’s what I love, and it’s also the easiest way to start a conversation with someone: asking them about the movies and shows and things they like too. At least, that’s what I’ve found, and this makes me feel like far less of a geek when people join in (even though apparently this is becoming “cool” these days. Who knew?).

#CBR5 Review #27: Dear Girls Above Me by Charlie McDowell

Come for the girls, but stay for the Charlie.

I don’t know how I stumbled upon it, but a while back I started following Charlie McDowell’s twitter account (@CharlieMcDowell) which is basically just a series of little “letters” he writes to the two girls who live above him, in response to some of the inconceivably vapid comments they make. After enough time and following, it appears he decided to write a book inspired by his life under these girls, and the result is absolutely hilarious. No seriously, I actually laughed out loud at a number of parts, and kept getting asked (by my mother, yes) what exactly was so funny. What really sold me on this book was not the girls who sparked the story and the things that they say, but McDowell’s writing. I wouldn’t say that his humor is for everyone, but I personally find him to be clever and an absolute riot: a seamless blend of self-depreciation, wit, and absurdity.

In terms of a story, Dear Girls Above Me begins with Charlie recounting his recent breakup from a long-term relationship, and how he felt slightly lost after this: enter the girls above him, whose everyday lives and conversations can be heard incredibly clearly in Charlie’s apartment, yet they appear to hear little, if anything, from him. At first, Charlie finds the girls to be an irritating nuisance, but soon he starts to find enjoyment in their conversations, and it almost seems as though he begins to care about them a bit, despite the fact that he pokes fun at their expense all the time. The girls are characterized as twenty-something party-girls, unmotivated and living off their parents’ money. While we may have an immediate, stereotypical valley-girl image in our heads of them, Charlie is sure to give them their distinct personalities and appearances, and basically says that they could be just any girl on the street, and you would likely never know that they say these things and act this way unless you got a real, personal look into their lives (like McDowell now has, living under them). He also makes sure to acknowledge his own faults and privileges in life which may parallel theirs: Charlie’s parents are apparently two very famous actors, who he doesn’t outright name, but it’s not hard to figure out who they are, (and his stories of them are actually all the more hilarious if you have these well-known images in your head. At least I thought so, anyway); In any case, I think it was very valuable for McDowell to add a critical look of himself to the novel, lest the whole “Girls Above Me” thing turn into more of a mock-fest, and less of a learning experience. Because it is through the girls and some of their little outlooks on life that Charlie begins to learn about himself, women, and some new rules of dating that he may not have been up to speed on during his past, long relationship. Other than this, there isn’t an immense amount of action in the novel, but that doesn’t really take away from it at all, as it’s less about what happens, and more about what is said and thought about.

While the tale of Charlie’s post-breakup, under-girl life is apparently “inspired” by true events, some things definitely come across as outlandish or embellished. While certain setups in general seems to be only happening for the sake of story progression, the exaggerations I really didn’t mind, and actually felt added to the humor of the whole thing. In fact, in the acknowledgements after the novel, McDowell makes a point of stating that there were certain exaggerations, and how he learnt how to tell stories from his father who added embellishments along the way to make a good story (basically the plot of Big Fish). And it does make for a good time and a good read. Oh, I’m not saying that there are any great ideas swimming around in here, though the nature of humans and personalities is examined a little bit, which adds a slight weight to the whole thing, despite the ending which seemed to sneak up on me far too quickly, as I just wanted there to be a little bit more to it.

In general, however, Dear Girls Above Me is a fun and easy book to read. While some may find more enjoyment in the schadenfreude of hearing the idiocy of the girls, my favourite aspect of the novel was McDowell’s responses to them. As I said before, it is his quick and amusing writing that made me enjoy the book the most, and if you are looking to laugh, I’d definitely suggest picking it up some time (as well as following the original Twitter account, as well as Charlie’s personal one which is just as hilarious, if not more so, @McDowellCharlie).

[Be sure to check out more reviews on the Cannonball Read group blog]

#CBR5 Review #26: The Creep by John Arcudi and Jonathan Case

Thus, with this 26^th read, I finish my goal of a half-cannonball! And with half the year still to go; why didn’t I think I would make it, again? I guess I have been reading a lot of graphic novels and comic books, which don’t usually take a lot of time, and The Creep was no exception, as I breezed through the entire thing in one sitting. Partially because it is a relatively short graphic novel, and partially because I just really had to find out what happened. Suspense and curiosity is definitely the name of the game with this one, but it’s also a lot darker in what it entails than I thought it would.

What we have with The Creep is what appears to be a seemingly typical detective story, after two young boys kill each other just months after one another. The mother of one of the boys calls an old friend, Oxel, to private investigate, though she is unaware that Oxel has been suffering from a physical ailment known as acromegaly, which causes a general enlargement of many physical features, among other things. Because of this, the story not only touches the issue of young suicide, but also on visual deformities and the treatment of others with them.

Once Oxel really gets into the mystery, however, he finds that things may not be what they seem (which kind of goes without saying, I suppose). And when all is said and done, the true crack to the case comes with another human tragedy. In the end, this gritty detective story is less about devious humans skirting the law, and more about human suffering and guilt. Really, it’s a story that begs the question as to whether or not it’s better to not know things and remain oblivious, as the truth may obscure fond memories or create new pain that is worse than the numbness of being kept in the dark.

Overall, the plot of The Creep just clips along at a rapid pace, and while this makes it easy to read, the conclusion and reveal at the end almost seems rushed and didn’t really leave time for it all to set in. The story itself is surprising and very different, but I almost wish there was more of it, despite the fact that it is a bit hard to take at times. If nothing else, however, Jonathan Case’s artwork throughout is stunning, and only adds to the moods and thematic elements.

Would I recommend it? I’m not really sure, to be honest. While I enjoyed it, there was something that kept me from absolutely loving it, and if you want something light and not too serious, I would stay away from this one. But if you like detective stories and works regarding the all complexities of humanity, both good and bad, then by all means, I’d take a gander at The Creep.

[Be sure to check out more reviews on the Cannonball Read group blog]

#CBR5 Reviews #24-25: Hellboy, Volumes 1 and 2 by Mike Mignola

Seeing as I read Seed of Destruction and Wake the Devil (the first two volumes of Mike Mignola’s Hellboy series) back to back, I might as well review them as one, especially since they basically just compound on top of one another in following the same paranormal threat and mystery surrounding the beast that is Hellboy.

In all honesty, before starting this series, the only thing I knew about Hellboy was that there was a movie made about him a few years back with Ron Perlman, and master-of-makeup-and-costume-acting Dough Jones as some fishy thing? And Hellboy is super strong and almost like a rock or something? But you go to the odd convention here and there and hear Mike Mignola’s name being spouted around by people, and suddenly stumble upon this book and think, “Hey, why not?” And what a good random read this has turned out to be. Maybe the art is not as detailed as some might like (personally, I like things a little more minimal, and the drawings of Hellboy himself are totally entrancing to me), but the story is multifaceted in its complications and historical implications. In fact, you just scratch the surface with Seed of Destruction, which becomes apparent once you hit Wake the Devil, and the depth of the whole business of who Hellboy is and what he was made for becomes all the more elusive, despite the teases put out there for the reader to grab on to.

What the first two Hellboy’s are basically about are how Hellboy came into being. After an old, thought to be dead historical figure performs a summoning ritual for the Nazi’s in WWII in order to change the course of the war and future of the world, a young, red creature is found on the surface of the earth; he becomes known as “Hellboy,” as it is believed he was raised from the pits of Hell. Hellboy does not, however, end up immediately in the hands of those who summoned him, but is taken in by the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense or BPRD (Saving people, hunting things, maybe not as much a “family” business as you thought, huh Winchesters?). Fifty years later, he is still working for them, hunting down ghosts and other paranormal activity across the globe, with others who have special abilities and mutations that were found by the BPRD, such as a woman named Elizabeth Sherman who has pyrokinetic powers, and an amphibian-like creature known as Abe Sapien.

In both Seed of Destruction and Wake the Devil, those powers which had long before summoned Hellboy are constantly at play, trying to draw him into a trap to unleash his full potential upon the world: in essence, supernatural activity is occurring for Hellboy and his team to investigate, so that Hellboy can be obtained to perform what he was initially summoned to do. But what is this exactly? Well, it’s still unclear at this point, though all the stepping-stones are starting to fall into place as the series goes on (at this point, at least, though it is still early). All I know is that there are multiple Gods and belief systems all competing at this point for ultimate power, though I’m still not sure what the ultimate ends of each really are.

A great thing about this series thus far is the way the story intertwines with already-established history and names. I mean, why can’t Rasputin have something to do with all this stuff going on? The attention to detail and layers within the plot are definitely two of the strongest aspects of these works, as many, more strictly “superhero” type comic books can often become simplistic in their good vs. evil mantras (not all of them, of course). Though at times, I did get a little confused with all the names and history being thrown around, so it took a while to get my head around it at some points while reading: I just had to stop for a minute every now and again to straighten it all out, though that might also have been to do with the distracting settings in which I was reading… who is really to say?

What is also interesting about Hellboy as a character is that he is clearly different from everyone, but at this point in his life, he understands this, and just accepts it. Honestly, he is probably the most chill, gigantic mutant-y thing I’ve ever experienced in any work of fiction before, and it makes him very endearing as far as characters go. In addition, being that he is the main character of the series, it kind of goes without saying that he is likely to remain the “good guy” despite the fact that there is a prophecy or other (demonic?) purpose laid out for him. He resists this within the first two volumes, as you would expect from the protagonist, and yet, while I was reading, there was this little feeling I had that maybe one day he will turn his back on this humanity he has learned from the past fifty years. Would it be bad if he became an anti-hero or villainous character? I honestly don’t think it would. I think Hellboy would continue to work as a character and story regardless of what “side” he is on, which in my mind, is the markings of a very strong character. I mean, maybe others feel differently, and maybe he will inevitably go to the “dark side” for a tiny stint of time before returning back to his usual self, but either way, this seeming potential to be both a “good” and “evil” character leaves a bit of suspense and wonder as to what path Hellboy will eventually take, and that kind of unpredictability is something I like when reading books that could simply fall into the usual heroic plotlines. Though at the same time, being that Hellboy is virtually indestructible (or so it seems), there is never really any worry or doubt that he won’t survive the tale. Then again, this is basically inherent in most series (with the exception of things like Game of Thrones, of course), so it’s not like I can really fault this all that much.

All in all, however, I really enjoyed the first two volumes of Hellboy, and would recommend reading them to anyone who is a fan of the comic genre, or who enjoys things that involve a fictionalized spin on real world history. I myself think I’m going to continue with further volumes of this series at some point, or as soon as I can get my hands on them, more like.

[Be sure to check out more reviews on the Cannonball Read group blog]

#CBR5 Review #23: The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie

The comedian, actor, (surprisingly fantastic) jazz musician Hugh Laurie? Why yes, a Jack-of-all-trades that one is. The Gun Seller is Hugh Laurie’s first novel, which had apparent promise of a sequel, which has yet to be released. But no matter, as this book is substantial and conclusive on its own, not to mention complex, quick-witted, and humorous. Essentially, I could just hear Hugh Laurie saying the words of the novel to me as I read it, and picturing a Fry-and-Laurie era Laurie acting it all out definitely added to my enjoyment of it.

What we have in The Gun Seller is a retired Army officer in London, named Thomas Lang. Thomas works odd-jobs as a bodyguard and mercenary for connections he made during his time in the army, but when he is approached by a man who wants to hire him for an assassination, Thomas gets into a whole mess of trouble. Thomas chooses to try and warn the man who is to be assassinated that he is a target, only to find that the man who sought to hire him and the target are one in the same. Thomas’ character was the real object under question, by a man named Alexander Woolf, and his daughter Sarah. They tell him of a conspiracy involving international arms dealers that they want his help in stopping. Reluctantly, for the safety of Sarah, Thomas becomes embroiled in this conspiracy, which later is discovered to involve not only “gun sellers,” but also terrorist organizations, the American CIA, and the British Ministry of Defense.

The plot itself has many different layers of covert operation and deceit, and as I was quite tired while reading it (due to being on a fast-paced bus tour around Ireland at the time, not because I was bored with the book), by the end I started getting… confused. If you just go with it, everything eventually works itself out and makes sense, but getting there can be a bit of a struggle at times. Fortunately, Laurie’s writing is fun enough to make even the most baffling sections worth working through. As lighthearted as it seems at times, however, The Gun Seller is quite a serious novel, just told with a softer, quirkier feel, which totally works.

In the end, I really enjoyed this book, regardless of the difficulty I had trudging through the odd sections, knowing who was on whose side, what the odd sentiment said by one person meant to the other, and who we were even rooting for at the end of the day. But The Gun Seller really does resonate with the Hugh Laurie-loving side of me, as I could definitely tell that he wrote it from familiarity with his television work and writings. I would say that this book is not for everyone, but if you like stories of conspiracy organizations, then this one would likely be your fancy. It’s not usually my kind of thing, but this time, I quite liked it.

[Be sure to check out more reviews on the Cannonball Read group blog]