I admit I enjoyed reading the Twilight books. No, they’re not great literature or written with great skill. But they were a lovely escape, and I had fun. There. But I’ll give this to Stephenie Meyer: she has a great imagination and is truly a good storyteller (this comes even from her own mouth: she’s said she’s more a storyteller than she is a writer). She is also a fine judge of other books. Five summers ago on her website, she recommended the now ridiculously popular The Hunger Games. I went out and read it and found it fascinating, thought-provoking and gripping. Most everyone else seemed to agree.
But she also not too much later recommended a fine “duet” of books by Elizabeth Knox called Dreamhunter and Dreamquake. I went out and got those at the library and found myself utterly transported. The books had such an interesting premise: in a slightly different world than ours back in the early 1900s, an area appears which only certain people can enter. Those people can go in to this area, lie down and sleep, and “catch” dreams, which they can then essentially “broadcast” to a sleeping audience in a dream theater. Interesting idea in itself. But what became even more fascinating was the mystery of why the Place came to be in the first place, and if it has some kind of purpose. By the time the whole reason behind the Place is revealed at the end of the duet, after two wonderfully rich and complex books that were a little dreamlike themselves, I was absolutely blown away. It’s so satisfying as a reader to see bits of a mystery come together magically and then just be solved. But this also had such a powerful poignancy to it that I felt my heart seize up a bit. And the setting and tone, the whole feel of the books, was superb. Original, so real, so powerful.
So I was thrilled to find out a couple of months ago that a new novel was coming from this superlative author, Mortal Fire. I let myself dip into the waters of this new book and its setting and feel, relishing the opportunity to visit Knox’s world again (this book is actually set in the same general place as the other two but 50 years later, and it’s mostly unconnected with the plot of those books, so it’s not necessary to read them first). But as I continued reading and the plot thickened, I found myself gobbling it, not able to put it down. I just rushed headlong to the end, and it was just as satisfying. What a fascinating premise! What a cool way of weaving the threads of story together and making it all make sense at the end! And the setting: again, just so vivid. I came inside (after sitting outside alone reading for two hours) just babbling about how much I loved the book. And a few days later, I still feel the rush of the thrill of discovery and the power of how it all hit me, not just in how it sent my mind spinning, but how it struck me smack in my chest.
What’s interesting to me is that all these books were recommended by Stephenie Meyer, but I haven’t heard a peep about Knox’s from other readers, whereas The Hunger Games became pretty much ubiquitous, not quite annoyingly so. Sometimes I wonder why these outstanding books don’t get more attention. (I think this is also the case with Susan Cooper’s The Dark Is Rising. I am always surprised at just how many of my well-read friends have never even heard of this series, let alone read the five books, either when they came out when I/we was/were young or now.)
At any rate, Elizabeth Knox, you are amazing. I don’t lavish praise on many authors, but you have joined the elite list of authors who really impress me. I hope more discerning readers discover your books.
Although I write book reviews on my review website, Rated Reads, sometimes I’d just like to take a little time to write extra about the books I’ve read and put them in context in other ways. After reading Neal Shusterman’s UnWholly, the sequel to his young adult book Unwind, I find myself having to wax eloquent and enthusiastic about this series.
In brief, Unwind introduces a future in which there has been a war between pro-choice advocates and pro-lifers. It is ended when the two sides come to an agreement in which abortions are outlawed, but teens may be “retroactively aborted” or “unwound” by essentially donating their organs and ALL of their body parts. Whoa! What a concept! I love to read books that have compelling, original premises, and it thrills me when the authors are skilled enough to be able to execute those ideas perfectly. Neal Shusterman has written quite a few other young adult books, including the popular and well-regarded Skinjacker Trilogy (which I have yet to read but have heard good things about), and he also writes screenplays. So he was the right man for this job, with experience and skill.
I was introduced to Unwind by a friend, who had our book club read it, and it was a great book to use for that purpose: it’s interesting and fairly easy to read, but it is so thought-provoking that it provides plenty of material for discussion. UnWholly continues the series very well, keeping up a fast pace filled with action, and introducing new characters and new ideas that are ripe for dissection. What’s particularly interesting to me is that Shusterman doesn’t seem to have a clear “agenda” in that he’s obviously pro-life or pro-choice; he allows readers to just think about all the issues and ramifications of the choices that have been made by those two groups and society as a whole in this imagined future.
What’s nice is that Shusterman also chooses not to fill the books with bad language, vulgarity, sexual content or gore, which plenty of writers out there would certainly be tempted to do to give it “authenticity” (I’ve already discussed my feelings about THAT). There is occasional bad language and some violence, but it’s not too detailed or gross, just enough to get the point across and move along the action and plot. Good going, Neal!
This series is great for teens and adults alike, for entertainment and for the seeds of a good discussion about a variety of moral and ethical issues. Honestly, I think this trumps The Hunger Games for a few reasons and should get more attention because of that: it’s just as action-filled, compelling, and exciting, great for guys to read as well as girls (’cause honestly, there aren’t necessarily as many popular books out there geared towards teen males as there are toward female readers), but it has more elements that give food for thought. Hunger Games makes one think about the excesses of government and the concept of reality shows gone too far, but after that, it is just a good story. But Unwind and UnWholly continue to provide topics for discussion and pondering as the stories go forward, not just giving pause for thought with their premises. I’d definitely recommend this series for anyone who loved Hunger Games.
I am not sure why I am even attempting to broach such a huge and important topic, but since I am often ambitious and stubbornly determined, despite my limitations, I am going to try to at least put in a few words and opinions about this subject.
Jennifer Lawrence plays Katniss Everdeen in "The Hunger Games." Credit: Lionsgate/Murray Close
The recent uber-popularity of the book and movie versions of The Hunger Games has brought this topic to mind yet again. I think it is vital that as a society we seriously consider the issues of the kinds of content we view, hear and read in the media, whether it’s TV, movies, books, music or video games. There is a lot of research available about these issues, and there are definitely people who are concerned about these topics, but I think it still bears discussion. Since I have this blog as a forum, I’ll bring it up here.
First, I think it’s safe to say that the media we view/read has gotten steadily more detailed and explicit over the years as a whole. Sure, there have been incidences of movies or books years ago that were heavily sexualized or violent, but I think that overall, more and more of the things we see have become filled with content that could be offensive or outright dangerous. I know I have read about studies that link violent behavior with the levels of violent content viewed in movies or video games, but I won’t attempt to find them or list them here. I’ll leave that for others. This is just a blog post. I’ll talk about my feelings and experiences.
I was raised not watching any movies that were rated R. I also was raised by a father who was a television director. He worked in the TV industry and then moved on to teach about it as a university professor. He and my mother both were sensitive to the ways the media influence us and were somewhat cautious about what we watched, and when we did watch TV and movies, we often talked about them. We even talked about commercials and what messages they were giving. On the other hand, for example, my husband grew up watching R-rated movies, plenty of stuff that was filled with violence and bad language, and didn’t really give it much thought until we were married. So I find it interesting to compare how we react to things we watch.
When I see a film that contains violence, each violent act strikes home to me, and I feel it. I particularly feel affected by the portrayal of just plain evil characters. I appreciate good acting, but I never cease to be bothered by really effective portrayals of characters who are purely wicked, whose sole intent is to cause pain and suffering in others, whether it’s for gain or purely because they enjoy seeing someone else suffer. That feels all too real to me, and I would prefer not to experience that. I often don’t see the point of having to portray those kinds of people or the point of my needing to see/feel it. I flinch and cringe away from the screen. My husband, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be as affected as I am. I feel it personally, and he views it as just part of the plot of a fictional story.
I know that how much violence we see affects how we continue to experience it. The more violence viewers are exposed to, the less it bothers them. We can actually have our feelings numbed, where difficult images don’t disturb us anymore, if we see a lot of violence. I worry a great deal about people, young men in particular, who are constantly exposed to strongly violent images and acts via movies and video games. It changes their very natures, so they are no longer bothered by acts that should be bothersome. That inevitably translates into real life in some way or another.
Now, I’m talking mostly about what might be termed “gratuitous” violence. Violence, as well as sex and strong language, have become a normal part of many movies and other media. But often they are simply there to “entertain.” I simply do not find those kinds of content entertaining; I find them offensive and soul-scarring. But there are times I think that violence has an appropriate place in media. Good literature and film and other media help to show us how life works and what happens sometimes, to remind us of history and how not to repeat it, for instance, or to remind us about how bad human nature can be and how to overcome our basest natural inclinations. So the question is, how much detail do those “good” media instances need to contain to be effective in their aim? How much evil needs to be shown to remind us to do better, be better, in some way, as individuals and as a society?
The Hunger Games has struck a chord with friends of mine, for instance. I’ve been interested to see what various friends have had to say about the books and the movie. Some have wholeheartedly embraced the positive messages of the series and what it seems to aim to do and say, even just sitting down and reading the series in one big marathon. Some have appreciated what the books are trying to do but have still felt the violence was too intense, too detailed, unnecessary. I already mentioned in my post about the movie and book that I liked them overall but felt that I could only read the books in small doses, not three right in a row, because they are so intense. I just couldn’t swallow them whole, all three in one sitting, without a break of lighter fare. I respect and find interesting and valuable the views of all my friends who have weighed in on the topic. I think that in the case of this series, it’s a valuable book series and movie, but it’s important to know yourself and what you’re comfortable with.
Some people may truly have been numbed by watching lots of other violent fare over the years, so they aren’t as sensitive; some people may just be more sensitive naturally, whether they’ve been exposed to much violence in media or not. In the case of Hunger Games, parents should be careful about knowing their children who might read the series or watch the movie to judge if it would be a good fit for them. But they shouldn’t just abdicate making any judgment on the matter because the movie and books are just so popular and “everyone” is reading/seeing them.
I think another movie and book series that bears discussing here is the very popular Stieg Larsson series, starting with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. As a book reviewer, I had an opportunity to read this book when it first came out, and I read the flap and decided it just wasn’t something that would sit well with me. I wondered about it later when it began getting a lot of buzz. After some more investigation, I still concluded that it wouldn’t be something I would enjoy. Then, with my website, I still needed to have a way to provide guidance to readers also trying to decide if the book would be a good fit for them. Finally, someone who reviews for me read the book and was able to give it a rating. She confirmed what I’d heard, that the book was filled with many explicit, disturbing scenes of sexual violence against women. She also linked to an article online I found very useful in giving more insight.
In some ways, I want to leave judging to individuals, to let them make their own decisions about how certain content might affect them. But at the same time, I find it profoundly disturbing that so many readers are embracing these novels. I asked one blogger last week who said she is a Christian what she felt about this content, as she proclaimed how much she enjoyed the Stieg Larsson books. She said, in short, that since Larsson doesn’t “endorse” the assaults, and “warns against” this kind of violence, that she was OK with the content, even though it was very difficult to read.
I found that to be really interesting. I think that is where we all have to make some kind of a judgment on any violent content; is it important to include it if it sends a message? I think so. I think an even more important question is, however, how detailed and explicit should that content be to be able to get across the message? Is it necessary to have multiple scenes of extreme violence, even misogyny? Does the negative impact of a reader (or movie viewer) experiencing that kind of secondhand assault get outweighed by the positive impact of sending a message that these things happen and are wrong, and that we can do something to prevent these acts?
Again, I’d like to say that in most cases, individuals should be able and encouraged to decide for themselves what will be best for them. I created Rated Reads for that very purpose, to give readers extra information so they could judge more accurately for themselves what they would find acceptable, given their own sensitivities and sensibilities.
But on the other hand, I think there truly are cases where too much is simply too much. That doesn’t mean censorship; I would never say that a book shouldn’t be published, period, because of its content. But it does mean that there should be warnings; there should be more information easily available to readers about what they might be facing in picking up a book. There should definitely be some lines drawn about what can be made available to readers who are younger than 18, much like R-rated movies are restricted to younger viewers. I would like to see less gory, explicit and gratuitous violence in movies and video games, as well. I just don’t think enough is being done to limit that violent content that can truly numb sensitivities and even affect violent behavior.
Unfortunately, I don’t think there’s much we can do to limit things in our free-speech society. But I think it’s important for us to talk about these ideas and be more aware of the damage that can be done by a steady diet of violence, or even an occasional sampling of “unnecessary” violent content. Obviously, we all are going to have different ideas of what constitutes the “right amount” of disturbing content or which messages are truly beneficial to remind us of truths about humanity and what’s happening in real life. I already have made clear I am pretty sensitive to violence and have a low tolerance, so I might have a much shorter list of books or movies I think are important for people to see (BUT at the appropriate ages and maturity levels) than others. But let’s make this a national conversation and be more aware of the effects of what we and others in our society are seeing.
I tend to hear about many books that end up being “hot” early in the game thanks to all the ways I stay connected in the publishing world. In the case of The Hunger Games, I heard about it on Stephenie Meyer’s website. I have found that Ms. Meyer has quite good taste in books. She talked about Suzanne Collins’ eventual blockbuster on her website when the first book came out, and I ran out and bought a copy. (She also recommended a fantastic “duo” of books starting with Dreamhunter, which I really liked as well but which isn’t the phenomenon that The Hunger Games has become; in fact, I’ve run across no one else who has read it.) I was thoroughly impressed by the fascinating premise and by the skilled execution of the great idea. I think a lot of what got my attention was the idea that in some messed-up future, the most horrific of survivor reality shows would be enacted. I’ve never been a fan of pretty much any reality shows on TV, preferring well-written, original scripted programs whether they be comedy or drama, so I thought it was brilliant to take our current society’s obsession with the cheaply-produced stuff that passes for entertainment to its gory and worst-case conclusion.
Elizabeth Banks and Jennifer Lawrence star in "The Hunger Games." credit: Lionsgate Films/Murray Close
Of course, since I read the first book when it was newly published, I had to wait a year for Catching Fire. As it happened, I ended up putting my newly purchased copy on a shelf and holding on to it for a year until Mockingjay was published. At that point, I then had two fresh, unread copies of the rest of the series, but it had been two years since I’d read the first book. That meant that I had to reread The Hunger Games so I could refresh my memory. Since the books are so intense, I still had to take a little break between reading the second book and then the third, reading one or two other books in between. From what I hear, this is unusual; everyone else I know, including my husband, who isn’t a BIG-time reader, just sat down and gulped the books down in practically one sitting, reading all three straight through. For me, I just needed to take a step back from the violence and, well, sadness. Either way, though, I was gripped by the story and how it unfolded. I liked how it showed people’s resilience and the need to rebel against an oppressive government. Collins had a wonderful idea for the books and then just showed great talent as a writer in taking the story through to its conclusion. I knew that she wouldn’t tie everything up neatly in a bow and that there wouldn’t be perfect happy endings for every character; I could tell, as most readers probably did, that this would be a gritty, more “realistic” set of books, with messier but mostly true-feeling plot lines. Some were shocked by how she finished the series, but I didn’t find myself completely taken aback or annoyed by it. It worked for me.
Now that I’ve had an opportunity to see the movie adaptation, I can say I’m very satisfied. Books turned into movies can be generally very un-satisfying propositions, so to be able to attend this film and say, “Wow. That was really well done” was a happy ending for me. I wasn’t terribly pleased with the first several Harry Potter film adaptations, feeling that although they did bring to big-budget life main plot points of the first books, they somehow lost a lot of the “feel” of the books. Part of what I loved about J.K. Rowling’s writing was not just the complex world and plot arc over seven books, but the whimsy. They are so clever in the names and in all the little non-crucial, witty touches. They made me laugh. The movies just didn’t do that at first. They felt lifeless. And Twilight… that’s a whole other story altogether.
So I was pleased with the movie because it completely captured the feel and tone of the books, the harshness of the regular citizens’ lives and the hopelessness, and the barbaric nature of the Capitol’s Games, carried out with such pomp and calculated publicity every year, even as 24 teens were brutally encouraged to leave behind their humanity and kill each other to survive, just to go back to their bleak lives.
The acting was superb and the script was deftly adapted. A movie really is a different animal than a book, and much as book lovers hate it, movies must make changes as the story goes from one distinct medium to another. I love good films (my dad taught me how to appreciate the classics), and I enjoy seeing how a director and all the other skilled people who contribute to a film really bring out the best in a story using all the tricks up their sleeves. For instance, the fact that there wasn’t much music in the film was a method that contributed to its tone. When music was used, it was spare and simple, echoing the story lines.
I think what I most appreciated, though, was that the visual nature of film really struck home to viewers the messages of the story even more than the book. The book tells us about totalitarian regimes and what governments do when they have too much power; it tells us about how people still can’t keep their eyes off of watching others fight and suffer, even in larger-than-life color (the rubbernecking, train-wreck mentality). It showed us the obliviousness of the people living in the Capitol to the real lives of the rest of Panem’s citizens. The movie, though, because of its very nature, really made me think about how silly and superficial those in the Capitol were, how they pranced about in their lives of ease and wealth, wearing their ridiculous clothes and crazy makeup and hair, not caring at all that people in their own country were mostly poor and always hungry and struggling. The Hunger Games were really just a game to them, a spectacle. It was disturbing and made me realize yet again how absolutely wealthy I truly am compared to so many people around the world, and so many of us here in the United States are, but even so, most of us complain that there are still others richer than we are, rather than thinking about the many who are poorer. We go around getting plastic surgery and Botox and spend ridiculous amounts of money on electronics and fattening fast food while others are struggling just to have something to eat. We sit in our comfortable living rooms watching big-screen TVs with scenes playing out of “reality” that’s not at all real: people pretending to love each other and women fighting each other for the “love” of one superficial guy, other people supposedly using survival skills to “win” on a remote island that’s been rigged for the show.
I was nervous about the violence of the movie, since the books truly are about violence. I will just briefly say I was pleased not to be too overwhelmed by violent images. The issue of violence in books and movies in general is something I find really interesting and important, but that will be a topic for another day. Suffice it to say for now that I enjoyed both this book and its movie version, and I was pleased that it made the leap between mediums in a satisfying manner.