The Rating System:
1 – There are better ways to spend your time. Examples: Damphir
2 – Ho hum novels, typical of its genre. Examples: most Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms novels.
3 – A cut above the rest, these are usually standard fare stories with either an interesting twist, gorgeous visualizations, or simply make a very interesting read. Examples: Anita Blake series, Dragonlance Chronicles.
4 – Highly recommended books! An interesting read, and pioneers the genre it’s in. Examples: Kushiel’s Dart, Perdido Street Station, Good Omens.
5 – A classic. Must get at all cost. Examples: A Game of Thrones, The Fantasy Writer’s Assistant, Dune.
Sputnik Sweetheart by Haruki Murakami
Murakami takes readers for a lovely ride into the consciousness of two protagonists, a girl who has never fallen in love, and her best friend who is secretly in love with her. The words are short and simple, no long descriptions for example, but the narrative is entertaining and ever-changing in only a way Murakami can narrate. The novel might just be a translation, but much like haikus, it’s nonetheless gorgeously written, and it would seem as if it was never written in Japanese to begin with. Much like most literary fiction, reality and fantasy collide, yet it’s all just a metaphor for the human condition.
Rating: 4.5/5.
Survivor by Chuck Palahniuk
The master of psychological horror, Palahniuk takes us on a roller-coaster ride of the life of a cult survivor. It’s chock full of details, ranging from how to remove blood stains from the carpet to all the chemicals one needs to consume to preserve one’s beauty. It’s also a great concept book as the pages and chapters are numbered in reverse order, a countdown to the story’s predictable but enjoyable ending.
Rating: 4/5.
Pattern Recognition by William Gibson
A perfect example of today’s modern novel, Pattern Recognition is full of neologisms and tech-savvy terms, although it’s an easier read compared to Neuromancer. Post-apocalyptic cyberspace cities give way to a consumer-heavy present, and the reader is bombarded by all these brand labels, which as it should be as the main character has a certain allergy to such logos. The book starts out as a mystery-type novel with the main character’s history as a recurring subplot. While far from an easy read, it’s more accessible compared to his earlier work, and is geared towards a less ambiguous ending.
Rating: 4/5.
Slayers Vol 3: The Ghost of Sairaag by Hajime Kanzaki
The first few pages are already funny, if you know what to look for. Kanzaki transforms standard-fare fantasy into one with a comedic slant thanks to his writing style, while still being epic and serious at the appropriate moments. A couple of slapstick humor here though, and that doesn’t translate so well in text as it does in animation. Still, Slayers is a great diversion, and quickly cuts to the chase. Facing the aftermath of the previous books, heroine Lina Inverse encounters an old enemy she thought was dead. Despite that fact, the story supports itself well enough without needing prior knowledge of the books that preceded it.
Rating: 3/5.
After the Quake by Haruki Murakami
When you thought that Murakami’s stories couldn’t get any shorter, this collection compiles several brief narratives loosely based on an earthquake that shook Japan. Murakami’s sense of pacing here is impeccable, as the stories when it is most appropriate, giving the reader something to think about rather than closure. Much of it is an easy read, and it’s amazing where Murakami’s imagination can take you. There’s little commitment here at barely a hundred pages, but the emotional and intellectual returns are great.
Rating: 5/5.
The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Romance in a not-so-linear narrative, The Time Traveler’s Wife is an excellent example of good slipstream fiction. Formal fiction prose blends with science-fiction and fantasy ideas, and one gets caught up with the two main protagonists, lovers who meet each other in different stages of their life. Several quotations from poetry and philosophy sprinkle this novel, as well as various foreign words, but they don’t detract from the story, and adds to the glamour. Niffenegger’s execution of time travel and keeping track of all of it must be applauded, as well as the twists and turns one encounters in the plot.
Rating: 5/5.
The Forgotten Beasts of Eld by Patricia McKillip
Perhaps McKillip’s best-written novel ever, The Forgotten Beasts of Eld contains all the essential elements a classic. The prose is enrapturing, brief but colorful, simple yet deep. You also have a three-dimensional protagonist, who appears strong at the beginning, but eventually undergoes a transformation of her own. And while the book is short, it encapsulates a lot of things, and no line is wasted. There’s also the menagerie of creatures and riddles, presented in a way only McKillip can deliver. As if that wasn’t enough, readers are rewarded by an ending that is fulfilling but does not seem forced.
Rating: 5/5.
The Knight by Gene Wolfe
While a novel of epic proportions, more modern readers of fantasy or fiction might be detracted by Wolfe’s more traditional writing style. If one can get over that, then The Knight is a story rich in character and setting, as Wolfe draws from various Western lore. The language is archaic but appropriate, while the narrative takes the form of the protagonist writing a letter to his brother. The hero of the story is a child who suddenly finds himself in another world that has seven layers, and is soon transformed into an adult as he encounters knights and various kinds of aelfs. I couldn’t help but feel though that this book was a male fantasy, as several women try to bed the protagonist. Finally, this is truly a novel in two parts, as the second part, The Wizard, must be read in order to complete the tale. The Knight ends at a crucial juncture, not necessary leaving you hanging, although there has been a lot of build up that has not yet been resolved.
Rating: 3.5/5.
The Two Swords by R.A. Salvatore
Concluding the Hunter’s Blades trilogy, Salvatore takes his most famous character, Drizz’t Do’Urden, to new heights as his character evolves once more and realizes new epiphanies. As usual, the novel is full of what Salvatore is good at: fight scenes, both of epic scale and dramatic one-on-one battles. Any one who’s read the other books in the series will find themselves at home with this one, but those who haven’t might get lost at the opening, as Salvatore has managed to turn the exploits of Drizz’t into a massive, world-changing event that will change a part of Faerun forever. And perhaps that’s the weakness of the book, as new readers will be confounded at the various characters and perspectives, while existing fans will notice the sudden disappearance of a sub-plot being built up in the previous two novels. Everything simply gets swept away in the revolution. New sub-plots are also seeded in The Two Swords, paving the way for more sequels, and ensuring fans that this is far from Drizz’t’s last adventure.
Rating: 3/5.
Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto
Another Japanese writer who practices the art of telling short narratives, Yoshimoto’s writing style is quite straightforward and entertaining. Kitchen is actually composed of two stories, but both tales have many similarities. There always seems to be an element of fantasy or disbelief when it comes to Yoshimoto, but she executes it perfectly, even amidst her gender-bending protagonists. Her characters are emotionally scarred in this book, and indeed, her subject matter is dark and depressing. Yet the message Yoshimoto gives is one of catharsis, one of hope. While Kitchen may be a quick and easy read, it harkens to the soul and leaves one much to ponder upon.
Rating: 4/5.
Three Hearts & Three Lions by Poul Anderson
While undeniably a classic, its writing style and narrative betrays its age. Archaic language and ancient fantasy tropes pepper this book, but it is far from a difficult read. Hoger Carlsen, hero of the story, is transported from Earth to a land of faerie, and there combats the forces of chaos. While this book is inspired by Arthurian and European myth, many modern fantasy novels borrow elements from Three Hearts & Three Lions. Of course having said that, today’s reader might not necessarily find this book as appealing as it was half a century ago.
Rating: 3/5.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
[Essay] Memory: The Silent Killer
An important but subtle element that governs us is memory. At the shallowest level, it can be as simple as remembering a friend’s name. Yet memory is a pervading force, and it branches out to other aspects of our lives. If it wasn’t so vital, whether it be individual memory or collective memory, then why bother with history, with psychology, or simply keeping a journal?
Haven’t you been attracted to someone because they reminded you of someone else in your past, be it a friend, a lover, a relative? It’s not always apparent the first time you meet a person, yet it’s there: what’s beautiful about him or her? Sometimes, it’s the memory of a past life with someone else who shares the same qualities. It could be the way they talk, a physical feature, the gestures they make, or even their interests. Yet no two individuals are completely identical, and so this new person’s quirks will in turn cause you to be attracted to someone similar in the future. But it’s not always about love. It could also remind us to dislike certain types of people, to distrust them, and sometimes, to loathe them. When we quibble that we don’t like a certain person, yet can’t point our finger on what makes them untrustworthy, sometimes it can be rooted to a memory of encountering someone similar.
As for friendships, even the strongest bonds can be shattered by memory. Amnesiacs live out entirely new lives, make new friends, for previous shared experiences do not exist. Yet it does not always have to be something that drastic. In our daily lives, who do we think about? Perhaps one of the reasons why people don’t always keep in touch with each other is because we forget. And the insidious part of it all is that we don’t notice. It could be our best friend from high school, a teacher from college, or perhaps our nursemaids when we were babes. What impedes us is not malice or fear or laziness. Sometimes it’s memory, as their significance in our lives is encompassed by the all-too-important present.
But forgetfulness is not always the root of disagreements. Sometimes, we remember them all too well. Lovers might separate and claim that the other was not the same person they fell in love with. Here, the roots of memory take a firm hold, and anything short of it becomes faulty, unworthy. The same goes for our friends and family: we often like to remember them during their best. But some fall prey to constantly measuring them by that standard. And there’s the fact that memory isn’t always selective, and as much as we remember the good, we also recall the bad, and it lurks in our minds whenever we encounter them. It’s what makes betraying a trust so malignant: even if we forgive, we seldom forget.
We are temporal beings, and our only link to who we truly are lies in memory. Aside from our experiences in the present, the only thing that tethers us to the past, and some believe to the future, is memory. The reason we keep on doing something over and over again is because we recall our prior encounters with it. Learning would be impossible if it weren’t for memory, and indeed, we measure growth in terms of who we used to be. A man without memories is simply a man who lives for the present: who can say whether he’s matured or not? He cannot plan, he cannot save, he cannot expect. There is simply the now, with no past life to give him firm grounding.
And indeed, memory is the key to our identity. The reason why we’re so dedicated to unearth lost memories is because we believe they’re part of what makes us who we are. Have you ever tried to remember something, yet can’t? Don’t you feel the frustration in doing so? It doesn’t have to be an important event, it could be a trivial thing. Perhaps what you had for lunch, or what clothes your crush wore. Yet when it’s forgotten, it’s as if we’ve lost a part of ourselves as well. But this fact extends to more than the individual. Rewriting history is perhaps difficult because we’re modifying the memory of a nation, of a people. Unlike true memory, we can edit, delete, or even add to our past. Whereas our own memories are only subject to the biases of a single person, history is subject to the biases of a million narrators.
One of the questions a pacifist should ask is when do we start remembering in terms of a collective rather than as individuals? Whether it be as a person, a family, a state, or a nation, as long as we have these artificial boundaries, there will always be conflict. Memory thrives on shared experiences, and in fact what takes note of the differences we have. Memory is the ego, but for selfish creatures like ourselves, perhaps the only way to realize a lasting peace is to have one ego. That’s not to say we give up our individuality, but rather that we start thinking in terms of everyone and not just ourselves or our nuclear family.
Concepts like vendetta and revenge is only possible with the existence of memory. Yet when we ourselves make a mistake, we do not rise up in retaliation to our own body, but instead seek to correct ourselves, to not repeat the same mistake. As long as we think of ourselves as individuals, there will always be “the other”, a separate memory that needs to be assimilated, or failing that, destroyed.
Death is what gives memory a finality. We make our last recollections as we take our final breath. But the ironic thing is perhaps the fact that while individual memory ceases with death, collective memory is strengthened by a person’s death. The dead become part of the consciousness of the survivors. And if history is any proof, the deaths of hundreds, thousands, and millions take a firm foothold in the minds of people.
The question I ask is not whether we remember the past, but whether forgetting is a boon or a bane. As we witness innumerable horrors, is forgetting the ultimate relief, or does it plant the seeds for human error to repeat once again?
Haven’t you been attracted to someone because they reminded you of someone else in your past, be it a friend, a lover, a relative? It’s not always apparent the first time you meet a person, yet it’s there: what’s beautiful about him or her? Sometimes, it’s the memory of a past life with someone else who shares the same qualities. It could be the way they talk, a physical feature, the gestures they make, or even their interests. Yet no two individuals are completely identical, and so this new person’s quirks will in turn cause you to be attracted to someone similar in the future. But it’s not always about love. It could also remind us to dislike certain types of people, to distrust them, and sometimes, to loathe them. When we quibble that we don’t like a certain person, yet can’t point our finger on what makes them untrustworthy, sometimes it can be rooted to a memory of encountering someone similar.
As for friendships, even the strongest bonds can be shattered by memory. Amnesiacs live out entirely new lives, make new friends, for previous shared experiences do not exist. Yet it does not always have to be something that drastic. In our daily lives, who do we think about? Perhaps one of the reasons why people don’t always keep in touch with each other is because we forget. And the insidious part of it all is that we don’t notice. It could be our best friend from high school, a teacher from college, or perhaps our nursemaids when we were babes. What impedes us is not malice or fear or laziness. Sometimes it’s memory, as their significance in our lives is encompassed by the all-too-important present.
But forgetfulness is not always the root of disagreements. Sometimes, we remember them all too well. Lovers might separate and claim that the other was not the same person they fell in love with. Here, the roots of memory take a firm hold, and anything short of it becomes faulty, unworthy. The same goes for our friends and family: we often like to remember them during their best. But some fall prey to constantly measuring them by that standard. And there’s the fact that memory isn’t always selective, and as much as we remember the good, we also recall the bad, and it lurks in our minds whenever we encounter them. It’s what makes betraying a trust so malignant: even if we forgive, we seldom forget.
We are temporal beings, and our only link to who we truly are lies in memory. Aside from our experiences in the present, the only thing that tethers us to the past, and some believe to the future, is memory. The reason we keep on doing something over and over again is because we recall our prior encounters with it. Learning would be impossible if it weren’t for memory, and indeed, we measure growth in terms of who we used to be. A man without memories is simply a man who lives for the present: who can say whether he’s matured or not? He cannot plan, he cannot save, he cannot expect. There is simply the now, with no past life to give him firm grounding.
And indeed, memory is the key to our identity. The reason why we’re so dedicated to unearth lost memories is because we believe they’re part of what makes us who we are. Have you ever tried to remember something, yet can’t? Don’t you feel the frustration in doing so? It doesn’t have to be an important event, it could be a trivial thing. Perhaps what you had for lunch, or what clothes your crush wore. Yet when it’s forgotten, it’s as if we’ve lost a part of ourselves as well. But this fact extends to more than the individual. Rewriting history is perhaps difficult because we’re modifying the memory of a nation, of a people. Unlike true memory, we can edit, delete, or even add to our past. Whereas our own memories are only subject to the biases of a single person, history is subject to the biases of a million narrators.
One of the questions a pacifist should ask is when do we start remembering in terms of a collective rather than as individuals? Whether it be as a person, a family, a state, or a nation, as long as we have these artificial boundaries, there will always be conflict. Memory thrives on shared experiences, and in fact what takes note of the differences we have. Memory is the ego, but for selfish creatures like ourselves, perhaps the only way to realize a lasting peace is to have one ego. That’s not to say we give up our individuality, but rather that we start thinking in terms of everyone and not just ourselves or our nuclear family.
Concepts like vendetta and revenge is only possible with the existence of memory. Yet when we ourselves make a mistake, we do not rise up in retaliation to our own body, but instead seek to correct ourselves, to not repeat the same mistake. As long as we think of ourselves as individuals, there will always be “the other”, a separate memory that needs to be assimilated, or failing that, destroyed.
Death is what gives memory a finality. We make our last recollections as we take our final breath. But the ironic thing is perhaps the fact that while individual memory ceases with death, collective memory is strengthened by a person’s death. The dead become part of the consciousness of the survivors. And if history is any proof, the deaths of hundreds, thousands, and millions take a firm foothold in the minds of people.
The question I ask is not whether we remember the past, but whether forgetting is a boon or a bane. As we witness innumerable horrors, is forgetting the ultimate relief, or does it plant the seeds for human error to repeat once again?
Saturday, September 24, 2005
The Fiction in Nonfiction
There are people who show contempt for woks of fiction, and quickly quip that the only manuscripts they read are works of nonfiction, be it history books, newspapers, or books classified under the nonfiction section of the library. But as my media teachers, history professors, and writing mentors have taught me, we are all surrounded by works of fiction, although many are not readily aware of it. Most people look to nonfiction for truth: but truth is an already elusive concept in real life, how much more when it gets penned down by far from objective authors?
First and foremost, we must remember that books and publications are written by people. They are not divinely scribed by an omniscient deity, and thus are subject to bias. Even the most factual of documents are subject to this shortcoming. Take historical accounts. An old adage is that history is written by the victors. And it’s true. Not so long ago, Magellan was a hero to Filipinos, the man who discovered the Philippine Islands. Of course presently in that same island where one of the first battles between Spain and this archipelago was waged lies two graves: one honoring Magellan, the other Lapu-Lapu for fending off foreign conquerors. Magellan might be the hero for the West, but to history books in this country, Lapu-Lapu is not an ignorant savage but the first of many heroes who would rebel against Spain.
Sometimes, it’s not even the limitation of the writer but of the medium. Newspapers, for example, can only have one front page. As much as I want people to read everything that’s contained in the newspaper, a lot of people usually just focus on the front page. This is where the headlines are placed, but have you ever asked who gets to choose what gets splattered on in front? Similarly, the editors can’t report about everything that happens in the nation. Some news articles make its way to the inside pages, others buried or filed under “future use”. An editor could easily place an unwanted (but forced to publish) story somewhere in the middle of the broadsheet, consigning it to a subtle demise.
And since we’re talking about newspapers, nothing is as unforeseen as the present. They say hindsight is 20/20, and perhaps that is an advantage history books have over tabloids and broadsheets. I mean the dailies are forced to report about the present, and more often than not, we don’t have all the facts. We have conjectures, theories, and suspicions, and we try as best as we can to tie in all the facts. As much as our conclusions are true, they could also be wrong. History books, at least, have the benefit of sifting through the various discoveries. Even then, they are made obsolete with new discoveries of their respective field.
If that’s the case with history and with newspapers, how much more with other works of nonfiction? Again, many people have this misconception that just because a work is labeled as nonfiction that everything that needs to be written must be true. They forget that nonfiction is still literary, and thus subject to the same constraints of telling a story. When I read an account, a biography, or a report, I can’t always expect the writer to throw in everything that’s true. No, I expect to read about it in a cohesive and logical manner. That means lots of edited parts, and perhaps an embellishment here and there. In reading the exploits of an adventurer, for example, do I really need to know that the person went to the bathroom five times a day? At not if you’re trying to built up suspense and excitement. Similarly, when we blog about our day, we don’t always tell the tale chronological of events: we merely mention what is the most significant, what has the most impact. And sometimes, whether intentional or not, we tie them up with fictional interludes, or at least making it appear so.
Memory is also the most fragile of things, and most of us draw inspiration from remembered accounts, recalled events. When we finally get to write a work of nonfiction, they are far from perfectly accurate. Hallucinations, epiphanies, or faulty memory usually get in our way of telling a story as it is. And even then, other people would have witnessed the same event differently. People will have different truths, even if they arise from the same circumstances.
So is truth truly as elusive as it seems, since we cannot even trust the written word? I believe in ideological truths. The small instances might not always be true, but the larger message is. When I read about a man driven by greed and selfishness, just because I read it in a book, be it fiction or nonfiction, does not mean such people do not exist in reality. They do. The same goes for other emotions, such as kindness, love, and suffering. Or sometimes it’s not the bigger picture that’s true. I might fabricate the most unbelievable conspiracy story, and while the theory might be fictional, the smaller instances in the narrative, such as corruption in government, the abuses people suffer, or the double-standard humans live with, is something readers are familiar with.
First and foremost, I think reading challengers readers to think. The easiest thing to do is to simply believe what other people have to say; to let others do the thinking for you. Some people hide under the cover of nonfiction, when the fact of the matter is, there is more truth in fiction that one could ever realize.
First and foremost, we must remember that books and publications are written by people. They are not divinely scribed by an omniscient deity, and thus are subject to bias. Even the most factual of documents are subject to this shortcoming. Take historical accounts. An old adage is that history is written by the victors. And it’s true. Not so long ago, Magellan was a hero to Filipinos, the man who discovered the Philippine Islands. Of course presently in that same island where one of the first battles between Spain and this archipelago was waged lies two graves: one honoring Magellan, the other Lapu-Lapu for fending off foreign conquerors. Magellan might be the hero for the West, but to history books in this country, Lapu-Lapu is not an ignorant savage but the first of many heroes who would rebel against Spain.
Sometimes, it’s not even the limitation of the writer but of the medium. Newspapers, for example, can only have one front page. As much as I want people to read everything that’s contained in the newspaper, a lot of people usually just focus on the front page. This is where the headlines are placed, but have you ever asked who gets to choose what gets splattered on in front? Similarly, the editors can’t report about everything that happens in the nation. Some news articles make its way to the inside pages, others buried or filed under “future use”. An editor could easily place an unwanted (but forced to publish) story somewhere in the middle of the broadsheet, consigning it to a subtle demise.
And since we’re talking about newspapers, nothing is as unforeseen as the present. They say hindsight is 20/20, and perhaps that is an advantage history books have over tabloids and broadsheets. I mean the dailies are forced to report about the present, and more often than not, we don’t have all the facts. We have conjectures, theories, and suspicions, and we try as best as we can to tie in all the facts. As much as our conclusions are true, they could also be wrong. History books, at least, have the benefit of sifting through the various discoveries. Even then, they are made obsolete with new discoveries of their respective field.
If that’s the case with history and with newspapers, how much more with other works of nonfiction? Again, many people have this misconception that just because a work is labeled as nonfiction that everything that needs to be written must be true. They forget that nonfiction is still literary, and thus subject to the same constraints of telling a story. When I read an account, a biography, or a report, I can’t always expect the writer to throw in everything that’s true. No, I expect to read about it in a cohesive and logical manner. That means lots of edited parts, and perhaps an embellishment here and there. In reading the exploits of an adventurer, for example, do I really need to know that the person went to the bathroom five times a day? At not if you’re trying to built up suspense and excitement. Similarly, when we blog about our day, we don’t always tell the tale chronological of events: we merely mention what is the most significant, what has the most impact. And sometimes, whether intentional or not, we tie them up with fictional interludes, or at least making it appear so.
Memory is also the most fragile of things, and most of us draw inspiration from remembered accounts, recalled events. When we finally get to write a work of nonfiction, they are far from perfectly accurate. Hallucinations, epiphanies, or faulty memory usually get in our way of telling a story as it is. And even then, other people would have witnessed the same event differently. People will have different truths, even if they arise from the same circumstances.
So is truth truly as elusive as it seems, since we cannot even trust the written word? I believe in ideological truths. The small instances might not always be true, but the larger message is. When I read about a man driven by greed and selfishness, just because I read it in a book, be it fiction or nonfiction, does not mean such people do not exist in reality. They do. The same goes for other emotions, such as kindness, love, and suffering. Or sometimes it’s not the bigger picture that’s true. I might fabricate the most unbelievable conspiracy story, and while the theory might be fictional, the smaller instances in the narrative, such as corruption in government, the abuses people suffer, or the double-standard humans live with, is something readers are familiar with.
First and foremost, I think reading challengers readers to think. The easiest thing to do is to simply believe what other people have to say; to let others do the thinking for you. Some people hide under the cover of nonfiction, when the fact of the matter is, there is more truth in fiction that one could ever realize.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
[Essay] Humanity's Constant Struggle
There’s this one statement which I often hear, usually in the context of a break-up: “I won’t change for anyone except myself.” Now that strikes me as arrogance, as if change was something to be avoided, or something we can control.
What is change? Is it good or bad? In theory, it could be either one, or sometimes, both. Yet within each human being is a desire to remain as is, to resist change, even if it’s for the better. It’s a perfectly natural tendency. When there is a lack of change, there are no surprises. Everything goes as predicted, and it’s easy to succumb to complacency and comfort. Unfortunately, this also breeds stagnation, and we stop growing, stop evolving into a better person. Change might be the logical choice, but fear of the unknown usually gets the better of us. “Better the devil we know than the devil we don’t know” is an obvious cliché that results from this mentality.
In reality, change is inevitable. Even the most ardent of resistors will change. Time will age us, cause us to develop new habits, or alter old ones. Yet it is possible to slow down its progress. In that, the most adamant succeed. Change over the physical body, we have little control of. Change over our minds, we have considerable power over. Not total control, mind you, but nonetheless a considerable sum. Take for example the story of Filipino saint, Lorenzo Ruiz. At the hands of his foreign captors, he was asked to renounce his faith in God. No matter what form of coercion they employed, no matter what form of torture they practiced, he did not relent. Lorenzo Ruiz died a Christian. Did they succeed in battering his body? Yes. Were they successful in changing his belief and perspective? No. Yet even if St. Lorenzo Ruiz survived that ordeal and was set free, there would have been a part of his mind that would have been changed. It might have been the trauma of being tortured, or perhaps the shock at seeing his companions suffer. His faith in God might have remained, but there are other aspects of his mind that could have been altered, irregardless of whether he’s conscious of it or not.
There are two ways to change: voluntarily, or involuntarily. The latter is perceived as undesirable, sometimes even evil. For example, when a hurricane hits your home and transforms your life into a pauper, we see that as a curse. Or perhaps when a girlfriend or boyfriend asks you to change this certain quality of yours, we still consider it an involuntary change because it did not stem from our own initiative. Compare that to a person who suddenly decides he or she wants to change for the better. It might be a realization that he or she should live a healthy life, hence exercising daily from that point on. But is such a dichotomy valid, that voluntarily change is always good, and involuntary change bad?
In truth, it all boils down to two factors: foresight and pride. If a man suddenly wins the lottery, does he curse the fates for giving him such an unexpected windfall? Foresight tells him that it’s a good thing, so he takes pleasure in such an occasion, even if the circumstances behind it was involuntary. But human foresight is not infinite, and a few years later, the same man might find himself living a lonely and horrible life, thanks to the familial squabbles such riches brought him. Or take a detrimental occasion, such as losing your job. One immediately thinks that it’s a bad thing, that getting fired is far from an auspicious circumstance. You might curse your employer and fellow employees when that happens, but a few years later, look back at it and think that it’s the best thing that ever happened to you, especially when a bigger company hires you for your now-available expertise, or paves the way for you to start your own business. In either scenario, we lacked the foresight to recognize if it’s a good or a bad thing, and simply assume the immediate repercussions.
But what about pride? Well, some people take comfort that their decisions are voluntary, whether it reaps rewards or ruin. As much as we decide to do what’s good and right, we also decide to do things that are detrimental not only to ourselves but to our society as well. For example, our vices are our own choices, whether it’s drinking or smoking. I could easy think one day that hey, I should start smoking. And this perpetuates until the end of my life. Health-wise, it’s not the smartest thing to do, but we condone such a habit because it was ours to begin with. Compare that to our parents or doctor ordering us to eat our vegetables. While eating vegetables is a healthy option, we resent doing so, not just because of the taste, but the fact that doing so wasn’t our decision or that someone else was compelling us. This kind of mentality is magnified when a part of us changes due to someone we have a dark past with. It might be a former employer, a previous lover, a relative we’ve quarreled with, or a friend turned nemesis. For example, when living with your girlfriend, you might have had to give up a bad habit like smoking, or learned a new skill like cooking. When you break up with her, there’s a desire to rebel, as if to assert your own individuality, or to scorn the other person. You start smoking again, especially when you encounter your ex, or perhaps you never turn on the stove again, for it brings back too many memories. In this case, we reverted to our old selves due to a conscious choice that traces its roots to pride.
Of course I’m not saying that as long as the end-results are good, it shouldn’t matter whether the cause was voluntary or involuntary. People can typically be classified under one of two categories: those who act, and those who react. The latter are more likely to respond to involuntary change. When unpleasant circumstances hit them, that’s the only time they grow. That’s not to say that’s entirely bad: some reactive people, when encountering a disaster, might be so determined that they turn a disadvantage into an advantage. When a typhoon hits their home, he or she rebuilds the entire city. The other type of person builds things out of their own initiative: they don’t wait for favorable conditions, but instead start working now. They change irregardless of the current circumstance.
People usually fall somewhere between the two: I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s purely voluntary. Unfortunately, meeting someone who’s perpetually involuntary is a possibility. Perhaps the problem with being involuntary is the fact that you wait for an external stimulus for you to change. You might be good at coping with crisis, but if it never arrives, then you’ll never grow as well. Of course a voluntary person can learn a thing or two from the involuntary person as well. Conditions, after all, are dynamic and ever-changing. One needs to adapt to the situation if one were to succeed, and in the endeavors that a voluntary person will start, those types of encounters cannot be avoided.
A voluntary person, however, has one important quality that needs to be respected. He or she has pride. And make no mistake, while pride can get in the way of getting the job done, pride is what gives us our dignity and our humanity. Do I really want to live a life where everything I accomplish or do is dictated by someone else? Voluntary people change because it is their decision to do so, but taken to the extreme, are the types that will claim “I will change for no one except myself”. Hence healthy doses of being voluntary and involuntary is needed. A person will grow, sometimes by their own choices, and sometimes by uncontrolled events.
Change is honestly a difficult concept to embrace. If you observe most people’s lives, growth is usually achieved when adversity is encountered. And I don’t think I’ve met anyone who asks for problems. Even the most voluntary of people, who for example might start up their own business, will not look forward to the trials he or she will face. They merely see it as a hurdle to overcome, to be avoided if possible. Yet difficulties cause us to grow, to evolve, to become better people. Perhaps the only thing that can console us during such times is our mentality. The question we should ask isn’t “why me?” but rather “what can I learn from this, and how can I grow from it?”. It’s easier said than done, but growth usually comes with a steep price.
If change is such a primal force and humans claim to possess free will, is it possible to choose not to change? The very act of choosing not to change already alters us, because previously, we did not have that sort of mindset. But philosophical babblings aside, does our inability to resist change limit our free will? Actually, there is a way to resist change, and many people take this recourse. When adversity strikes them, they give up instead of adapting to the situation. It’s called suicide. Disregarding the metaphysical and the afterlife, death has a certain finality. A corpse can’t change his or her views: it’s already locked in place at the time of death. Your body can rot and decay but your mind ceases to change. When the Japanese executed St. Lorenzo Ruiz, did they continue to abuse the corpse? Probably not, because you can’t convert a dead man. His faith and belief had already been established. They could have killed Ruiz’s family, city, and nation, but that means nothing to a dead man, and would not convert him to their beliefs. In death, our body undergoes one last transformation, and then everything else ceases. Perhaps the last act of someone who commits suicide is not to be free from this world, but rather to be free from change and the circumstances that cause it.
If death is the opposite of change, what does that tell us about life? It’s easy to perceive people, places, beliefs, and ideologies as static entities, when in reality, the only thing constant about them is that they are in a state of flux.
What is change? Is it good or bad? In theory, it could be either one, or sometimes, both. Yet within each human being is a desire to remain as is, to resist change, even if it’s for the better. It’s a perfectly natural tendency. When there is a lack of change, there are no surprises. Everything goes as predicted, and it’s easy to succumb to complacency and comfort. Unfortunately, this also breeds stagnation, and we stop growing, stop evolving into a better person. Change might be the logical choice, but fear of the unknown usually gets the better of us. “Better the devil we know than the devil we don’t know” is an obvious cliché that results from this mentality.
In reality, change is inevitable. Even the most ardent of resistors will change. Time will age us, cause us to develop new habits, or alter old ones. Yet it is possible to slow down its progress. In that, the most adamant succeed. Change over the physical body, we have little control of. Change over our minds, we have considerable power over. Not total control, mind you, but nonetheless a considerable sum. Take for example the story of Filipino saint, Lorenzo Ruiz. At the hands of his foreign captors, he was asked to renounce his faith in God. No matter what form of coercion they employed, no matter what form of torture they practiced, he did not relent. Lorenzo Ruiz died a Christian. Did they succeed in battering his body? Yes. Were they successful in changing his belief and perspective? No. Yet even if St. Lorenzo Ruiz survived that ordeal and was set free, there would have been a part of his mind that would have been changed. It might have been the trauma of being tortured, or perhaps the shock at seeing his companions suffer. His faith in God might have remained, but there are other aspects of his mind that could have been altered, irregardless of whether he’s conscious of it or not.
There are two ways to change: voluntarily, or involuntarily. The latter is perceived as undesirable, sometimes even evil. For example, when a hurricane hits your home and transforms your life into a pauper, we see that as a curse. Or perhaps when a girlfriend or boyfriend asks you to change this certain quality of yours, we still consider it an involuntary change because it did not stem from our own initiative. Compare that to a person who suddenly decides he or she wants to change for the better. It might be a realization that he or she should live a healthy life, hence exercising daily from that point on. But is such a dichotomy valid, that voluntarily change is always good, and involuntary change bad?
In truth, it all boils down to two factors: foresight and pride. If a man suddenly wins the lottery, does he curse the fates for giving him such an unexpected windfall? Foresight tells him that it’s a good thing, so he takes pleasure in such an occasion, even if the circumstances behind it was involuntary. But human foresight is not infinite, and a few years later, the same man might find himself living a lonely and horrible life, thanks to the familial squabbles such riches brought him. Or take a detrimental occasion, such as losing your job. One immediately thinks that it’s a bad thing, that getting fired is far from an auspicious circumstance. You might curse your employer and fellow employees when that happens, but a few years later, look back at it and think that it’s the best thing that ever happened to you, especially when a bigger company hires you for your now-available expertise, or paves the way for you to start your own business. In either scenario, we lacked the foresight to recognize if it’s a good or a bad thing, and simply assume the immediate repercussions.
But what about pride? Well, some people take comfort that their decisions are voluntary, whether it reaps rewards or ruin. As much as we decide to do what’s good and right, we also decide to do things that are detrimental not only to ourselves but to our society as well. For example, our vices are our own choices, whether it’s drinking or smoking. I could easy think one day that hey, I should start smoking. And this perpetuates until the end of my life. Health-wise, it’s not the smartest thing to do, but we condone such a habit because it was ours to begin with. Compare that to our parents or doctor ordering us to eat our vegetables. While eating vegetables is a healthy option, we resent doing so, not just because of the taste, but the fact that doing so wasn’t our decision or that someone else was compelling us. This kind of mentality is magnified when a part of us changes due to someone we have a dark past with. It might be a former employer, a previous lover, a relative we’ve quarreled with, or a friend turned nemesis. For example, when living with your girlfriend, you might have had to give up a bad habit like smoking, or learned a new skill like cooking. When you break up with her, there’s a desire to rebel, as if to assert your own individuality, or to scorn the other person. You start smoking again, especially when you encounter your ex, or perhaps you never turn on the stove again, for it brings back too many memories. In this case, we reverted to our old selves due to a conscious choice that traces its roots to pride.
Of course I’m not saying that as long as the end-results are good, it shouldn’t matter whether the cause was voluntary or involuntary. People can typically be classified under one of two categories: those who act, and those who react. The latter are more likely to respond to involuntary change. When unpleasant circumstances hit them, that’s the only time they grow. That’s not to say that’s entirely bad: some reactive people, when encountering a disaster, might be so determined that they turn a disadvantage into an advantage. When a typhoon hits their home, he or she rebuilds the entire city. The other type of person builds things out of their own initiative: they don’t wait for favorable conditions, but instead start working now. They change irregardless of the current circumstance.
People usually fall somewhere between the two: I don’t think I’ve met anyone who’s purely voluntary. Unfortunately, meeting someone who’s perpetually involuntary is a possibility. Perhaps the problem with being involuntary is the fact that you wait for an external stimulus for you to change. You might be good at coping with crisis, but if it never arrives, then you’ll never grow as well. Of course a voluntary person can learn a thing or two from the involuntary person as well. Conditions, after all, are dynamic and ever-changing. One needs to adapt to the situation if one were to succeed, and in the endeavors that a voluntary person will start, those types of encounters cannot be avoided.
A voluntary person, however, has one important quality that needs to be respected. He or she has pride. And make no mistake, while pride can get in the way of getting the job done, pride is what gives us our dignity and our humanity. Do I really want to live a life where everything I accomplish or do is dictated by someone else? Voluntary people change because it is their decision to do so, but taken to the extreme, are the types that will claim “I will change for no one except myself”. Hence healthy doses of being voluntary and involuntary is needed. A person will grow, sometimes by their own choices, and sometimes by uncontrolled events.
Change is honestly a difficult concept to embrace. If you observe most people’s lives, growth is usually achieved when adversity is encountered. And I don’t think I’ve met anyone who asks for problems. Even the most voluntary of people, who for example might start up their own business, will not look forward to the trials he or she will face. They merely see it as a hurdle to overcome, to be avoided if possible. Yet difficulties cause us to grow, to evolve, to become better people. Perhaps the only thing that can console us during such times is our mentality. The question we should ask isn’t “why me?” but rather “what can I learn from this, and how can I grow from it?”. It’s easier said than done, but growth usually comes with a steep price.
If change is such a primal force and humans claim to possess free will, is it possible to choose not to change? The very act of choosing not to change already alters us, because previously, we did not have that sort of mindset. But philosophical babblings aside, does our inability to resist change limit our free will? Actually, there is a way to resist change, and many people take this recourse. When adversity strikes them, they give up instead of adapting to the situation. It’s called suicide. Disregarding the metaphysical and the afterlife, death has a certain finality. A corpse can’t change his or her views: it’s already locked in place at the time of death. Your body can rot and decay but your mind ceases to change. When the Japanese executed St. Lorenzo Ruiz, did they continue to abuse the corpse? Probably not, because you can’t convert a dead man. His faith and belief had already been established. They could have killed Ruiz’s family, city, and nation, but that means nothing to a dead man, and would not convert him to their beliefs. In death, our body undergoes one last transformation, and then everything else ceases. Perhaps the last act of someone who commits suicide is not to be free from this world, but rather to be free from change and the circumstances that cause it.
If death is the opposite of change, what does that tell us about life? It’s easy to perceive people, places, beliefs, and ideologies as static entities, when in reality, the only thing constant about them is that they are in a state of flux.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
[Essay] The Art of Book Reviews: It’s Not As Easy As It Looks
Not so long ago, I thought that my ideal job would be that of a book reviewer; doing nothing but read books all day, and then write reviews on them. That wish never came true, and even if it did, it would probably be less than perfect.
For example, my reading taste revolves around a certain genre: namely fantasy and science-fiction. I imagine that there are two extremes a book reviewer will face: either he gets to choose which books he wants to review, or he gets whatever is thrown his way, either by the publisher or the publication he’s working for. In the case of the former, it’s not a problem for the reviewer, but it might be for his readers, because the subject matter he tackles revolves around a small niche, and might end up writing derivative reviews. As for the latter, the reviewer might have more variety, but there’s a good chance he’ll be reading a lot of horrible books. And unlike the casual reader who can simply put down a novel that doesn’t interest them, you have to plough through the book from beginning to end. It’s like Simon from American Idol forcing himself to listen to William Hung for one full hour, just to be sure that Hung really is that horrible, and to what extent.
Assuming a book reviewer manages to balance his book choices, the next question he faces is how many books he will review. Theoretically, the more books he can cover, the better. Unlike other forms of media which has a set number of pages or a fixed time, books not only come in all shapes and sizes, they come in various thickness and font sizes as well. A music album release, for example, takes around an hour, while watching a movie two hours (Lord of the Rings, Dances with Wolves, and JFK being the exception). Reading a book, however, has no definite time (unless you’re talking of audio books). Readers read at their own pace, and allot different hours for reading them. One of the worst questions I encounter (and I get this often) is how long does it take me to finish reading a book. If they want a specific answer, they’ll have to give me a specific book. Children’s books (but remember, there are various kinds of children’s books) take me around a few hours to finish. Paperbacks in the 300-400 pages count take me a day or two. Mammoth books with page counts amounting to four digits takes me longer. Content also plays a significant role. Does the book contain pictures, and how much? Is the language simple, or is it as complex as reading James Joyce’s Ulysses? Are the paragraphs long, or are they broken down into shorter segments? One has to realize that no books are identical, although some books share similarities with others, especially books by the same author (but that’s as far as it goes).
Once again, we go back to the number of books a person is capable of reviewing. It all depends on the person’s capability, and what kind of books he’s reviewing. An adult novel or two for me is okay. Anything more than that depends on my passion and availability. I mean is doing book reviews feeding me and my family? If so, I can probably afford to drop everything else, and start reading for the first three weeks of the month, and then churn out the reviews at the last. If not, then what can I accommodate into my schedule, taking into account work, recreation, and my social life.
Then there’s the actual review writing. The first thing every reviewer should ask is who their audience is. Am I writing the review for fiction aficionados? Or the casual reader? Kids? Perhaps even the non-reader. This will take into account your writing style, and how you will tackle your subject matter. As a fantasy reader, for example, if my audience are fantasy fans, then I can drop multiple allusions to other fantasy work and/or writers into my review. If not, then It’s probably better for me to stick to something more mainstream when it comes to name dropping.
Knowing your audience also helps the reviewer answer this one important question: to spoil or not to spoil? Many people who read book reviews will be irked if they read a review that has spoilers, especially when unwarned. However, giving out spoilers is sometimes inevitable, as reviewers need to mention something about the book in order to review it; one should just be wary to what extent he spoils the reader. Readers who’ve already read the book obviously will not care about the spoilers, but instead appreciate it as the reviewer can go more into detail about what’s good or what’s wrong with the book, and can cite the specific circumstance. So on one end, spoilers can alienate the casual reader, but gives the reviewer more tools to work with. On the other, a reviewer can limit the spoilers he reveals, but has to be more general in his review of the novel.
What do I mean by limiting spoilers? Well, the book summaries at the back of books already do spoil readers, as they sometimes mention the plot of the book or the premise. There are even rare circumstances when book cover summaries actually spoil the main gist of the story (hint to readers: never read back covers if you want to fully enjoy the reading experience!). Book reviewers might want to start from there. Of course there’s no set rule, and reviewers will debate with themselves what to include and what not to. Should I name the person that gets killed, or simply let it be known that a character dies? Should I tell that the book’s plot is really about this, or should I let the reader discover it for themselves? Obviously, if a reviewer doesn’t mind giving out spoilers, he doesn’t have to ponder on these unnecessary decisions, and just write the best review he can come up with, mentioning all the elements he thinks are important. And in that sense, the best book review is perhaps one that contains spoilers, because the reviewer doesn’t need to hold himself back. However, the best book reviews aren’t always what readers are looking for, and simply need a nudge whether to buy this book or not.
In the end though, what makes a book review work or not is the sensibilities of both the reviewer and the reader. If there’s a huge disparity in their preferences, no matter how much the reviewer recommends the book, or how well-written the review is, the reader might just end up disappointed. The problem isn’t with the reviewer but with the reader: what the reader needs to do is look for a book reviewer whose tastes are similar to theirs. Thus a favorable review will elicit positive reactions from the reader. There’s no secret formula for readers to know which book reviewers are for them. Sometimes, you get a hint from their reviews, but more often than not, it’s a hit-or-miss thing, and the only way to know is to pick up a book they recommend (or not recommend).
For example, my reading taste revolves around a certain genre: namely fantasy and science-fiction. I imagine that there are two extremes a book reviewer will face: either he gets to choose which books he wants to review, or he gets whatever is thrown his way, either by the publisher or the publication he’s working for. In the case of the former, it’s not a problem for the reviewer, but it might be for his readers, because the subject matter he tackles revolves around a small niche, and might end up writing derivative reviews. As for the latter, the reviewer might have more variety, but there’s a good chance he’ll be reading a lot of horrible books. And unlike the casual reader who can simply put down a novel that doesn’t interest them, you have to plough through the book from beginning to end. It’s like Simon from American Idol forcing himself to listen to William Hung for one full hour, just to be sure that Hung really is that horrible, and to what extent.
Assuming a book reviewer manages to balance his book choices, the next question he faces is how many books he will review. Theoretically, the more books he can cover, the better. Unlike other forms of media which has a set number of pages or a fixed time, books not only come in all shapes and sizes, they come in various thickness and font sizes as well. A music album release, for example, takes around an hour, while watching a movie two hours (Lord of the Rings, Dances with Wolves, and JFK being the exception). Reading a book, however, has no definite time (unless you’re talking of audio books). Readers read at their own pace, and allot different hours for reading them. One of the worst questions I encounter (and I get this often) is how long does it take me to finish reading a book. If they want a specific answer, they’ll have to give me a specific book. Children’s books (but remember, there are various kinds of children’s books) take me around a few hours to finish. Paperbacks in the 300-400 pages count take me a day or two. Mammoth books with page counts amounting to four digits takes me longer. Content also plays a significant role. Does the book contain pictures, and how much? Is the language simple, or is it as complex as reading James Joyce’s Ulysses? Are the paragraphs long, or are they broken down into shorter segments? One has to realize that no books are identical, although some books share similarities with others, especially books by the same author (but that’s as far as it goes).
Once again, we go back to the number of books a person is capable of reviewing. It all depends on the person’s capability, and what kind of books he’s reviewing. An adult novel or two for me is okay. Anything more than that depends on my passion and availability. I mean is doing book reviews feeding me and my family? If so, I can probably afford to drop everything else, and start reading for the first three weeks of the month, and then churn out the reviews at the last. If not, then what can I accommodate into my schedule, taking into account work, recreation, and my social life.
Then there’s the actual review writing. The first thing every reviewer should ask is who their audience is. Am I writing the review for fiction aficionados? Or the casual reader? Kids? Perhaps even the non-reader. This will take into account your writing style, and how you will tackle your subject matter. As a fantasy reader, for example, if my audience are fantasy fans, then I can drop multiple allusions to other fantasy work and/or writers into my review. If not, then It’s probably better for me to stick to something more mainstream when it comes to name dropping.
Knowing your audience also helps the reviewer answer this one important question: to spoil or not to spoil? Many people who read book reviews will be irked if they read a review that has spoilers, especially when unwarned. However, giving out spoilers is sometimes inevitable, as reviewers need to mention something about the book in order to review it; one should just be wary to what extent he spoils the reader. Readers who’ve already read the book obviously will not care about the spoilers, but instead appreciate it as the reviewer can go more into detail about what’s good or what’s wrong with the book, and can cite the specific circumstance. So on one end, spoilers can alienate the casual reader, but gives the reviewer more tools to work with. On the other, a reviewer can limit the spoilers he reveals, but has to be more general in his review of the novel.
What do I mean by limiting spoilers? Well, the book summaries at the back of books already do spoil readers, as they sometimes mention the plot of the book or the premise. There are even rare circumstances when book cover summaries actually spoil the main gist of the story (hint to readers: never read back covers if you want to fully enjoy the reading experience!). Book reviewers might want to start from there. Of course there’s no set rule, and reviewers will debate with themselves what to include and what not to. Should I name the person that gets killed, or simply let it be known that a character dies? Should I tell that the book’s plot is really about this, or should I let the reader discover it for themselves? Obviously, if a reviewer doesn’t mind giving out spoilers, he doesn’t have to ponder on these unnecessary decisions, and just write the best review he can come up with, mentioning all the elements he thinks are important. And in that sense, the best book review is perhaps one that contains spoilers, because the reviewer doesn’t need to hold himself back. However, the best book reviews aren’t always what readers are looking for, and simply need a nudge whether to buy this book or not.
In the end though, what makes a book review work or not is the sensibilities of both the reviewer and the reader. If there’s a huge disparity in their preferences, no matter how much the reviewer recommends the book, or how well-written the review is, the reader might just end up disappointed. The problem isn’t with the reviewer but with the reader: what the reader needs to do is look for a book reviewer whose tastes are similar to theirs. Thus a favorable review will elicit positive reactions from the reader. There’s no secret formula for readers to know which book reviewers are for them. Sometimes, you get a hint from their reviews, but more often than not, it’s a hit-or-miss thing, and the only way to know is to pick up a book they recommend (or not recommend).
Monday, September 12, 2005
[Essay] Justice
Perhaps it’s because I live in a third-world country, but the word justice often comes up, and in various contexts. It could mean food for the hungry, jobs for the unemployed, fair wages for the masses, or simply punishing the unjust. The last point I want to expound on. In media, in literature, and in real life, the lines between justice and revenge (or vengeance, if you prefer) is blurred. If we want someone punished, we cry out for justice. If there’s a mass-murderer out there, we seek his capture so that he may be sentenced to death. And you know, that kind of reaction is natural, human nature. It’s as reflexive as kicking when the doctor taps you kneecap. Many supporters of this kind of belief will usually favor the Old Testament, quoting the passages of an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Turning your other cheek is so unnatural that it’s what makes Christian doctrine so progressive for its time. Yet for all the beliefs that the Bible instills in its followers, people still clamor for revenge in the guise of justice. But is this what rational, enlightened people should ask, let alone a just and merciful deity should condone?
Throughout grade school and high school, I’m the kid that gets pushed around, a prime target of the bullies. In my eyes, if there’s anyone who should seek deific vengeance, it’s me, one of the oppressed. Some people might even carry bitter feelings inside them even if such incidents were a decade old. Fortunately, I’m not one of them. Perhaps the day I was converted to another kind of belief was when I met one of the people who bullied me. He approached me as a friend rather than an oppressor. He was asking if he could borrow some money for me, nothing large, just a few coins. While I suspected a part of the act was a farce, he didn’t retaliate when I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He merely thanked me and walked away. And over the course of many years, I’d meet people who were once the bullies, the guys on top, live reformed lives. This experience rather than Biblical text is perhaps what showed me that there’s something better than punishment.
Theoretically, reformation is something our society strives for. The reason we put criminals in jail is so that they can know the consequences of their actions and change for the better. Whether it’s effective or not (or even appropriate, as anyone who’s watched or read Les Miserables will know) is an entirely different matter. Yet when a crime is committed and the criminal is apprehended, society clamors the convict to be jailed, not because they hope that he or she will be converted, but in order to be punished. Once again, this is the normal human reaction. When someone kills one of your loved ones, steals your hard-earned money, or threatens your life, the immediate reaction is to strike back. I must admit, there’s a certain sense of satisfaction in that. But in such a scenario, I think of the future and realize that at best, what we’ve managed to accomplish is only to rid the world of one less human being. To some people, that’s not so bad. But if you think about it, there’s actually something better.
Don’t you have a friend who was once a bully? Or perhaps someone who was very unlikable, but changed and is now one of your good buddies. It could easily have been a rival, an enemy, or simply someone who gave a wrong first impression. Despite all their faults, they’re your friends now. Let’s assume that you didn’t change, and that it was they who started acting differently. Wouldn’t you have someone, despite (or perhaps because of) their horrible past, be your friend in the present? The alternative of course is that they’d be jailed up somewhere, never to see the light of day. Or worse, sentenced to the death penalty. It’s simple math: zero, or something. Yet many of us prefer the former, thinking that revenge would be sweeter, or that the person would never change for the better. With regards to reformation, you never know unless you give the person a chance. It might not be something you can change in him or her, but circumstances have ways of altering a person, whether for good or ill. As for revenge, well, some do develop a taste for it. To me, it’s just a precious waste of resources. What rules us when it comes to revenge isn’t our intellect, but our appetite. While following our appetite when it comes to food is okay, it’s another thing when it comes to human life.
Let me take things to another level. A friend of mine once told me that she thinks in the afterlife, God will punish the unjust, even if they’ve been converted. She reasons that if that weren’t the case, what happens to the rest who’ve been good all their life? She and I agree on one point though: we don’t know how God will behave. God is, after all, the most justice and good character we can imagine. In this case, my friend believes that God will mete our justice. I don’t, at least not to those who are reformed. Admittedly, a part of me wants to see people punished. As my friend said, what happens to the rest of us who’ve been good the entire time? Where’s the justice in that? But that’s not the rational part of me speaking. An enlightened person would think things through. I mean honestly, if you used to be the most horrible person, and then you genuinely decided to be good, your past is enough to haunt you for the rest of your life. Punishing you in the afterlife is like giving medication to a person who’s cured. Not only is it inappropriate, it’s causing unnecessary pain. Sure, if the person wasn’t sincere in their reformation, go ahead and punish them. But punishing a good person because of their past is as fair as punishing the son for the sins of the father (that’s not to say that the guilty shouldn’t be punished; they have to live with the consequences, but they can expect forgiveness from the merciful).
If that was the case, some of you might be asking, what about the people who’ve been good all their lives? Would their rewards be the same in my vision of an utopian society? Well, there’s the parable of the Prodigal Son. The elder brother, the one who didn’t run away and stayed, asks his father the same question. What about me? There was forgiveness for the Prodigal Son, and the older brother’s initial reaction was where’s the justice in that? God’s answer to him was that he’ll inherit everything He’s built up so far. But in concrete terms, what is that? Well to me, at the very least, the people who’ve lived good lives won’t be bothered by their conscience. I mean if I was a criminal, for example, who eventually reformed, no matter what I do in the present, I’ll still be mentally haunted by my past. Because I can never undo my crimes, and whatever wrong I did to other people will linger in my mind. Call it whatever you want, be it trauma, nightmares, or guilt. If I truly lived my life as holy as I make it out to be, then I won’t have that burden, even if my final fate is the same as the converted.
Before I end, I’d like to point out that no one lives a pure and good life. We’ve all made mistakes, and aren’t we grateful for those who gave us a second, or even a third chance in life? We might not have committed crimes, but we have performed unjust acts. Whether it’s something mortal or venial, there’s always a chance for reformation, for change. The one thing I dislike about death is that it halts change. A dead prisoner can’t be enlightened and ask for penitence, at least not in this life. And for those who judge others in light of their own righteousness, well, it’ll be ironic if God sentenced you to the same punishments you’ve been clamoring for in others.
Throughout grade school and high school, I’m the kid that gets pushed around, a prime target of the bullies. In my eyes, if there’s anyone who should seek deific vengeance, it’s me, one of the oppressed. Some people might even carry bitter feelings inside them even if such incidents were a decade old. Fortunately, I’m not one of them. Perhaps the day I was converted to another kind of belief was when I met one of the people who bullied me. He approached me as a friend rather than an oppressor. He was asking if he could borrow some money for me, nothing large, just a few coins. While I suspected a part of the act was a farce, he didn’t retaliate when I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He merely thanked me and walked away. And over the course of many years, I’d meet people who were once the bullies, the guys on top, live reformed lives. This experience rather than Biblical text is perhaps what showed me that there’s something better than punishment.
Theoretically, reformation is something our society strives for. The reason we put criminals in jail is so that they can know the consequences of their actions and change for the better. Whether it’s effective or not (or even appropriate, as anyone who’s watched or read Les Miserables will know) is an entirely different matter. Yet when a crime is committed and the criminal is apprehended, society clamors the convict to be jailed, not because they hope that he or she will be converted, but in order to be punished. Once again, this is the normal human reaction. When someone kills one of your loved ones, steals your hard-earned money, or threatens your life, the immediate reaction is to strike back. I must admit, there’s a certain sense of satisfaction in that. But in such a scenario, I think of the future and realize that at best, what we’ve managed to accomplish is only to rid the world of one less human being. To some people, that’s not so bad. But if you think about it, there’s actually something better.
Don’t you have a friend who was once a bully? Or perhaps someone who was very unlikable, but changed and is now one of your good buddies. It could easily have been a rival, an enemy, or simply someone who gave a wrong first impression. Despite all their faults, they’re your friends now. Let’s assume that you didn’t change, and that it was they who started acting differently. Wouldn’t you have someone, despite (or perhaps because of) their horrible past, be your friend in the present? The alternative of course is that they’d be jailed up somewhere, never to see the light of day. Or worse, sentenced to the death penalty. It’s simple math: zero, or something. Yet many of us prefer the former, thinking that revenge would be sweeter, or that the person would never change for the better. With regards to reformation, you never know unless you give the person a chance. It might not be something you can change in him or her, but circumstances have ways of altering a person, whether for good or ill. As for revenge, well, some do develop a taste for it. To me, it’s just a precious waste of resources. What rules us when it comes to revenge isn’t our intellect, but our appetite. While following our appetite when it comes to food is okay, it’s another thing when it comes to human life.
Let me take things to another level. A friend of mine once told me that she thinks in the afterlife, God will punish the unjust, even if they’ve been converted. She reasons that if that weren’t the case, what happens to the rest who’ve been good all their life? She and I agree on one point though: we don’t know how God will behave. God is, after all, the most justice and good character we can imagine. In this case, my friend believes that God will mete our justice. I don’t, at least not to those who are reformed. Admittedly, a part of me wants to see people punished. As my friend said, what happens to the rest of us who’ve been good the entire time? Where’s the justice in that? But that’s not the rational part of me speaking. An enlightened person would think things through. I mean honestly, if you used to be the most horrible person, and then you genuinely decided to be good, your past is enough to haunt you for the rest of your life. Punishing you in the afterlife is like giving medication to a person who’s cured. Not only is it inappropriate, it’s causing unnecessary pain. Sure, if the person wasn’t sincere in their reformation, go ahead and punish them. But punishing a good person because of their past is as fair as punishing the son for the sins of the father (that’s not to say that the guilty shouldn’t be punished; they have to live with the consequences, but they can expect forgiveness from the merciful).
If that was the case, some of you might be asking, what about the people who’ve been good all their lives? Would their rewards be the same in my vision of an utopian society? Well, there’s the parable of the Prodigal Son. The elder brother, the one who didn’t run away and stayed, asks his father the same question. What about me? There was forgiveness for the Prodigal Son, and the older brother’s initial reaction was where’s the justice in that? God’s answer to him was that he’ll inherit everything He’s built up so far. But in concrete terms, what is that? Well to me, at the very least, the people who’ve lived good lives won’t be bothered by their conscience. I mean if I was a criminal, for example, who eventually reformed, no matter what I do in the present, I’ll still be mentally haunted by my past. Because I can never undo my crimes, and whatever wrong I did to other people will linger in my mind. Call it whatever you want, be it trauma, nightmares, or guilt. If I truly lived my life as holy as I make it out to be, then I won’t have that burden, even if my final fate is the same as the converted.
Before I end, I’d like to point out that no one lives a pure and good life. We’ve all made mistakes, and aren’t we grateful for those who gave us a second, or even a third chance in life? We might not have committed crimes, but we have performed unjust acts. Whether it’s something mortal or venial, there’s always a chance for reformation, for change. The one thing I dislike about death is that it halts change. A dead prisoner can’t be enlightened and ask for penitence, at least not in this life. And for those who judge others in light of their own righteousness, well, it’ll be ironic if God sentenced you to the same punishments you’ve been clamoring for in others.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
[Essay] True Pain, True Suffering
One thing we’re all acquainted with is suffering. Yet despite knowing the fact that it’s unavoidable in life, we attempt to evade it, and when we get hurt, it’s as if we’ve experienced it for the first time. Just take a look at heartbreaks, or grieving a loved one, or perhaps losing a part of your body. No matter how many times it’s recurred before, it’ll always be a fresh wound once when we’ve experienced it again. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that memory, or lack of it, blunts the trauma. Yet there are actually two things that many people fail to recognize.
The first is that the crisis is not the most painful part we can experience. It can be breaking up with your boyfriend or girlfriend, failing an important exam, losing a limb to an accident, or sudden bankruptcy in your business. Many will attribute loss to that particular event. “It was the saddest moment in my life,” one might say. But it’s also the briefest, which is also why we might cling to that particular memory, playing it over and over in our minds, as if we could mend the mistake we make, despite loathing it and preferring not to dwell on it. We are, by our very nature, illogical and contradictory after all. Yet if we came face to face with the facts, what’s truly terrifying is not the present but the future.
A man who breaks up with his fiancé might cry and feel depressed on the eve of their separation, but what haunts him is the events to come. It’s in the days that follow where he is plagued by nightmares, dreaming about his lonely life, or worse, the past or what-ifs he could have had. It’s in the post-crisis period where he dwells on how there’s no one he can share his life with, or how he might not be as lucky the next time and find someone who enjoys his companionship. The same goes for anyone else who experiences a disastrous event in their lives, such as an earthquake or a typhoon. It’s not during the earthquake that you’re most distressed, but rather later on, when it’s all over, and you have to start picking up the pieces. Emotionally, it’s a lot less to handle because there’s no time pressure, no immediate need to resolve things. But in truth, it’s also the most difficult, because it’s when you come face to face with your own feelings, and realize that it’s not going to be over as quickly.
If there was an explosion and I died, it really wouldn’t be a problem because I had a quick death. However, if I somehow managed to survive, and find out that I lost an arm in the process, that would simply be horrible. When I’m in the hospital bed, I’ll be thinking of my future, how I’ll live life with one less arm. Sure, I’ll channel my anger and disappointment at that one point in time, during the explosion, but you know what, that event’s done and over with. It’s the difficulties in finding employment, or losing sex appeal, or simply not being able to eat with a fork and a spoon that’ll haunt me for the rest of my days. When I fall down, it hurts, but finding the strength to get back up hurts even more. It’s the only way we’ll survive or cope but hey, it’s not a pretty sight.
The second item many people don’t recognize is that we fear pain and suffering not simply for the emotions themselves, but because they bring about one important aspect: change. The truth of the matter is, complacency is lack of change. It’s being able to predict what’s going to happen tomorrow, of being in control, of living life in the way you expect it. Any form of crisis wrecks your plans. A couple to divorces, for example, have come to live a life they’re previously familiar with. Now, it’s an entirely new game, and they’re suddenly lost as everything seems strange and new again. Honestly, no one wants to start out fresh. In Monopoly, it’s like starting with zero dollars and zero property, while everyone else has their cache of money and hotels.
If an accident suddenly befalls me, it’s painful not just because of the actual sensation of pain, but because of the changes I’ll have to make in my life. If someone close to you dies, the first thing you’ll notice is how he or she isn’t there anymore. Our point of reference will always be the past, which is something we already know and base our future assumptions on. We live life in a certain pattern, and we’ve grown comfortable with that particular lifestyle. Change wrecks that lifestyle, and it’s extremely uncomfortable to change habits, to live life in a way you never expected.
Perhaps that’s why we suffer most after the disastrous event. Because then, we have time to think of the consequences, to feel fear and be frightened. And we’re not frightened for the sake of being frightened, but at the fact that we have to change and adapt to the new circumstances. If we fail in that, it’ll lead to another trauma, thus causing an eternal loop of pain and suffering.
Some of you might be asking how do we stop this? The sad thing is that we can’t. It’s a cycle, and no matter how we avoid change, it always catches up to us. Except in death, and there I comfort in that because the results can be predicted: if I slit my wrist now, I’ll stop breathing, and I won’t have to face my problems anymore. Note that the problems haven’t been solved, merely made inaccessible. And death, in the end, has a certain finality to it because it resists change. When you’re dead, you can’t change the world anymore. Only your previous legacy and other people can do that for you. So is it really a big surprise that people find comfort in suicide?
The first is that the crisis is not the most painful part we can experience. It can be breaking up with your boyfriend or girlfriend, failing an important exam, losing a limb to an accident, or sudden bankruptcy in your business. Many will attribute loss to that particular event. “It was the saddest moment in my life,” one might say. But it’s also the briefest, which is also why we might cling to that particular memory, playing it over and over in our minds, as if we could mend the mistake we make, despite loathing it and preferring not to dwell on it. We are, by our very nature, illogical and contradictory after all. Yet if we came face to face with the facts, what’s truly terrifying is not the present but the future.
A man who breaks up with his fiancé might cry and feel depressed on the eve of their separation, but what haunts him is the events to come. It’s in the days that follow where he is plagued by nightmares, dreaming about his lonely life, or worse, the past or what-ifs he could have had. It’s in the post-crisis period where he dwells on how there’s no one he can share his life with, or how he might not be as lucky the next time and find someone who enjoys his companionship. The same goes for anyone else who experiences a disastrous event in their lives, such as an earthquake or a typhoon. It’s not during the earthquake that you’re most distressed, but rather later on, when it’s all over, and you have to start picking up the pieces. Emotionally, it’s a lot less to handle because there’s no time pressure, no immediate need to resolve things. But in truth, it’s also the most difficult, because it’s when you come face to face with your own feelings, and realize that it’s not going to be over as quickly.
If there was an explosion and I died, it really wouldn’t be a problem because I had a quick death. However, if I somehow managed to survive, and find out that I lost an arm in the process, that would simply be horrible. When I’m in the hospital bed, I’ll be thinking of my future, how I’ll live life with one less arm. Sure, I’ll channel my anger and disappointment at that one point in time, during the explosion, but you know what, that event’s done and over with. It’s the difficulties in finding employment, or losing sex appeal, or simply not being able to eat with a fork and a spoon that’ll haunt me for the rest of my days. When I fall down, it hurts, but finding the strength to get back up hurts even more. It’s the only way we’ll survive or cope but hey, it’s not a pretty sight.
The second item many people don’t recognize is that we fear pain and suffering not simply for the emotions themselves, but because they bring about one important aspect: change. The truth of the matter is, complacency is lack of change. It’s being able to predict what’s going to happen tomorrow, of being in control, of living life in the way you expect it. Any form of crisis wrecks your plans. A couple to divorces, for example, have come to live a life they’re previously familiar with. Now, it’s an entirely new game, and they’re suddenly lost as everything seems strange and new again. Honestly, no one wants to start out fresh. In Monopoly, it’s like starting with zero dollars and zero property, while everyone else has their cache of money and hotels.
If an accident suddenly befalls me, it’s painful not just because of the actual sensation of pain, but because of the changes I’ll have to make in my life. If someone close to you dies, the first thing you’ll notice is how he or she isn’t there anymore. Our point of reference will always be the past, which is something we already know and base our future assumptions on. We live life in a certain pattern, and we’ve grown comfortable with that particular lifestyle. Change wrecks that lifestyle, and it’s extremely uncomfortable to change habits, to live life in a way you never expected.
Perhaps that’s why we suffer most after the disastrous event. Because then, we have time to think of the consequences, to feel fear and be frightened. And we’re not frightened for the sake of being frightened, but at the fact that we have to change and adapt to the new circumstances. If we fail in that, it’ll lead to another trauma, thus causing an eternal loop of pain and suffering.
Some of you might be asking how do we stop this? The sad thing is that we can’t. It’s a cycle, and no matter how we avoid change, it always catches up to us. Except in death, and there I comfort in that because the results can be predicted: if I slit my wrist now, I’ll stop breathing, and I won’t have to face my problems anymore. Note that the problems haven’t been solved, merely made inaccessible. And death, in the end, has a certain finality to it because it resists change. When you’re dead, you can’t change the world anymore. Only your previous legacy and other people can do that for you. So is it really a big surprise that people find comfort in suicide?
Monday, September 05, 2005
[Essay] 52 Hours a Week
I used to work six and a half days a week. The pay wasn’t much, but I loved the atmosphere I was in. From 10 am to 6 pm, I was surrounded by anime paraphernalia and talked to customers who loved anime. After work, you’d think that a person like me would go to a bar or something, but all I did was go home, watch some anime, and chatted with friends via the Internet about anime. You’d think that after sixty non-stop days, I’d be burnt out but the fact of the matter was, the only thing I truly missed back then was my participation in Magic: The Gathering tournaments.
These days, working five days a week is already draining. So what happened? I simply grew and developed a lot of other interests. Not only am I just interested in anime, I have to juggle my reading time, my writing time, my gaming time, and my regular public service announcements in addition to work. And believe me, work these days is work.
I met a friend of mine, Richie, a few weeks ago. He’s had several years of experience working in various jobs and positions, and now he’s finally landed a career in what you’d think would be a dream job. I mean he loves gadgets and technological devices. He now writes for a magazine that deals with those kind of stuff. Yet because it’s his job to know about the latest stuff, it stops being a hobby. When you’re compelled to do something other than for the sheer fun of it, it starts being a duty.
Yet his story is not unique. Nor is it the rule. I have friends who’ve learned to hate their ideal job, because it’s draining the sheer fun out of the experience. But I also know people like Vin, one of the people who started Comic Quest, and he still retains his passion for comics despite being surrounded by comics day in and day out. Your experiences with work is a double-edged sword.
I mean personally, it’s because I’m deathly bored and stressed with my work that when I get home, I’m in a hurry to get things done, whether it’s reading, writing, or gaming. I wonder if I was in a job that incorporated all three, would there be less output from me, quality and quantity wise? But I also remember my days in Comic Alley, and perhaps the reason I was there everyday (aside from the fact that I had no social life) was because of my enthusiasm for my hobby.
We all react differently, depending on the situation. Perhaps the only real warning I can give people is be careful what you wish for. Or as my Christian faith would say, be grateful that God doesn’t give you what you want, but what you need.
These days, working five days a week is already draining. So what happened? I simply grew and developed a lot of other interests. Not only am I just interested in anime, I have to juggle my reading time, my writing time, my gaming time, and my regular public service announcements in addition to work. And believe me, work these days is work.
I met a friend of mine, Richie, a few weeks ago. He’s had several years of experience working in various jobs and positions, and now he’s finally landed a career in what you’d think would be a dream job. I mean he loves gadgets and technological devices. He now writes for a magazine that deals with those kind of stuff. Yet because it’s his job to know about the latest stuff, it stops being a hobby. When you’re compelled to do something other than for the sheer fun of it, it starts being a duty.
Yet his story is not unique. Nor is it the rule. I have friends who’ve learned to hate their ideal job, because it’s draining the sheer fun out of the experience. But I also know people like Vin, one of the people who started Comic Quest, and he still retains his passion for comics despite being surrounded by comics day in and day out. Your experiences with work is a double-edged sword.
I mean personally, it’s because I’m deathly bored and stressed with my work that when I get home, I’m in a hurry to get things done, whether it’s reading, writing, or gaming. I wonder if I was in a job that incorporated all three, would there be less output from me, quality and quantity wise? But I also remember my days in Comic Alley, and perhaps the reason I was there everyday (aside from the fact that I had no social life) was because of my enthusiasm for my hobby.
We all react differently, depending on the situation. Perhaps the only real warning I can give people is be careful what you wish for. Or as my Christian faith would say, be grateful that God doesn’t give you what you want, but what you need.
Friday, September 02, 2005
[Essay] Confessions of a Bibliophile
One might think that a bibliophile is merely concerned with books. And to a certain extent, a good number of bibliophiles are only concerned with their one true love. For my part though, I remember that it’s not the book that I’m in love with, but in the art of reading. And there actually many factors involved in reading.
Take for example furniture. Some of you might be surprised that someone such as I, out of touch with the world, would be concerned with something so practical. But I do think furniture should be every bibliophile’s concern, unless they love to read books while standing up.
What’s your reading habit? Personally, I love to slouch in a couch or in a bed. Not just any bed though, it should have a headrest of some sort. Pillows would be nice as well. They’re ideal and comfortable places for me, despite what some psychologists might claim (that is, such places will make you feel drowsy because it’s where you sleep). Failing that, a sturdy, wide chair would do. Obviously, chairs come in all sizes and shapes, which is why furniture becomes a concern for me.
Not everyone’s a couch or chair addict though. Some prefer to read on a table. And that’s fine, especially if you’re the type that highlights passages or jots down quotes from their favorite books. I’m sure a lot of bibliophiles rely on different kinds of tables, whether it’s the roughness of it, the size (the perfect height for example), or simply the design (should it be slanted or flat?).
Aside from furniture, there’s room design. Perhaps one of the most important aspects of that would be lighting. Where is the light centered? Personally, I don’t like reading by lamp stands. They cast shadows which obscure my reading. Color also plays an important role. I love fluorescent white. Anything else is a hindrance. One of my professors though said that a certain yellowish paper looks good on yellow light. So reading with a certain ambience also plays a significant factor.
How about the amount of noise? Some people love “background” music, whether it’s mellow tones to ear-splitting vocals. Or perhaps it’s the chirping of crickets, the tweeting of birds. Or the sounds of morning traffic, the trademarks of every metropolis. I love the silence, where there’s nothing to distract me and I can be alone with my thoughts.
Lastly, there’s food and drink. Some people mix eating with reading. I tend to do that, although I prefer finger food that’s not messy: reading with your right, eating with your left. Anything that requires a spoon is out of the question. But I’ve heard of people who have a glass of wine to begin their reading rituals, and I wouldn’t be surprised if others have a certain food fetish.
A bibliophile is not just a connoisseur of books. He or she must balance out all these other factors, for the ideal reading experience is seldom an isolated incident. Not only do I want a good book to read, I want the finer things in life as well that will augment my reading experience.
Take for example furniture. Some of you might be surprised that someone such as I, out of touch with the world, would be concerned with something so practical. But I do think furniture should be every bibliophile’s concern, unless they love to read books while standing up.
What’s your reading habit? Personally, I love to slouch in a couch or in a bed. Not just any bed though, it should have a headrest of some sort. Pillows would be nice as well. They’re ideal and comfortable places for me, despite what some psychologists might claim (that is, such places will make you feel drowsy because it’s where you sleep). Failing that, a sturdy, wide chair would do. Obviously, chairs come in all sizes and shapes, which is why furniture becomes a concern for me.
Not everyone’s a couch or chair addict though. Some prefer to read on a table. And that’s fine, especially if you’re the type that highlights passages or jots down quotes from their favorite books. I’m sure a lot of bibliophiles rely on different kinds of tables, whether it’s the roughness of it, the size (the perfect height for example), or simply the design (should it be slanted or flat?).
Aside from furniture, there’s room design. Perhaps one of the most important aspects of that would be lighting. Where is the light centered? Personally, I don’t like reading by lamp stands. They cast shadows which obscure my reading. Color also plays an important role. I love fluorescent white. Anything else is a hindrance. One of my professors though said that a certain yellowish paper looks good on yellow light. So reading with a certain ambience also plays a significant factor.
How about the amount of noise? Some people love “background” music, whether it’s mellow tones to ear-splitting vocals. Or perhaps it’s the chirping of crickets, the tweeting of birds. Or the sounds of morning traffic, the trademarks of every metropolis. I love the silence, where there’s nothing to distract me and I can be alone with my thoughts.
Lastly, there’s food and drink. Some people mix eating with reading. I tend to do that, although I prefer finger food that’s not messy: reading with your right, eating with your left. Anything that requires a spoon is out of the question. But I’ve heard of people who have a glass of wine to begin their reading rituals, and I wouldn’t be surprised if others have a certain food fetish.
A bibliophile is not just a connoisseur of books. He or she must balance out all these other factors, for the ideal reading experience is seldom an isolated incident. Not only do I want a good book to read, I want the finer things in life as well that will augment my reading experience.
[Book Reviews] September Book Reviews (Memoranda, Extinction, Annihilation, The Binding Stone, The Robots of Dawn)
September Book Reviews (Memoranda, Extinction, Annihilation, The Binding Stone, The Robots of Dawn)
It’s a new, briefer format! Instead of giving a comprehensive review like I used to, I’ll probably settle for these shorter once a month mini-reviews of books that get thrown my way.
The Rating System:
1 – There are better ways to spend your time. Examples: Damphir
2 – Ho hum novels, typical of its genre. Examples: most Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms novels.
3 – A cut above the rest, these are usually standard fare stories with either an interesting twist, gorgeous visualizations, or simply make a very interesting read. Examples: Anita Blake series, Dragonlance Chronicles.
4 – Highly recommended books! An interesting read, and pioneers the genre it’s in. Examples: Kushiel’s Dart, Perdido Street Station, Good Omens.
5 – A classic. Must get at all cost. Examples: A Game of Thrones, The Fantasy Writer’s Assistant, Dune.
Memoranda by Jeffrey Ford
The second book in a trilogy, the book’s only weakness is perhaps that it whets your appetite for more. It’s brief but interesting, and Ford invokes a lot of imagery more than the usual. The book doesn’t get bogged down unlike its predecessor, The Physiognomy, and is actually one of the better “middle-child” books I’ve read in a long time. It stands well on its own, and is a delightful read irregardless if you’re a fan of fantasy or not.
Rating: 4/5.
Extinction by Lisa Smedman
Another middle-child book, this time in a six-part series. Story flow remains interesting, as usual, and Smedman succeeds in not only pushing the plot forward, but showing us what an evil party is like, and how they interact together. Perhaps notable from this author is her descriptions, as Smedman’s style stands out differently from the other author’s writing in the series, in a good way that is. If you’re a fan of the War of the Spider Queen series, Extinction won’t fail you. If not, you might want to grab the first book in the series.
Rating: 3/5.
Annihilation by Philip Athans
If you’ve read it this far, then there’s really no reason why you should put down this book. The fifth book in the War of the Spider Queen series, Athans shows us perhaps the highest point in the story short of the climax. While not as skillful as Smedman, Athans has other strengths. Notable perhaps in this novel are several mage battles. And honestly, you’re nearly at the end, so it’ll be difficult to screw up the series’s interesting premise. Again, best avoided by the uninitiated.
Rating: 3/5.
The Binding Stone by Don Bassingthwaite
Another Eberron novel, it disappoints with its slow start and generic narrative. There’s an interesting plot element in the middle, but only hardcore psionic D&D fans would appreciate it. The next highest point would probably be near the end where all the necessary action takes place, but it all stinks of deus ex machina. If you’re a fan of Eberron, you should probably just try out the other books instead of this. The good points aren’t enough to salvage a generic and bad book.
Rating: 1.5/5.
The Robots of Dawn by Isaac Asimov
The last novel in his Robot series, this book only proves that Asimov’s true strength lies in his short stories. Long and winding, Asimov takes us to another mystery with a surprising twist at the end. It doesn’t pack as much oomph as his earlier work though, such as the Foundation or the I, Robot short stories, and the previous, shorter novels in the series are probably better. Still, it’s perhaps one of Asimov’s better attempts at writing a really long novel. Simple narratives and interesting concepts are tools which Asimov works with, and this book is no exception.
Rating: 3.5/5.
It’s a new, briefer format! Instead of giving a comprehensive review like I used to, I’ll probably settle for these shorter once a month mini-reviews of books that get thrown my way.
The Rating System:
1 – There are better ways to spend your time. Examples: Damphir
2 – Ho hum novels, typical of its genre. Examples: most Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms novels.
3 – A cut above the rest, these are usually standard fare stories with either an interesting twist, gorgeous visualizations, or simply make a very interesting read. Examples: Anita Blake series, Dragonlance Chronicles.
4 – Highly recommended books! An interesting read, and pioneers the genre it’s in. Examples: Kushiel’s Dart, Perdido Street Station, Good Omens.
5 – A classic. Must get at all cost. Examples: A Game of Thrones, The Fantasy Writer’s Assistant, Dune.
Memoranda by Jeffrey Ford
The second book in a trilogy, the book’s only weakness is perhaps that it whets your appetite for more. It’s brief but interesting, and Ford invokes a lot of imagery more than the usual. The book doesn’t get bogged down unlike its predecessor, The Physiognomy, and is actually one of the better “middle-child” books I’ve read in a long time. It stands well on its own, and is a delightful read irregardless if you’re a fan of fantasy or not.
Rating: 4/5.
Extinction by Lisa Smedman
Another middle-child book, this time in a six-part series. Story flow remains interesting, as usual, and Smedman succeeds in not only pushing the plot forward, but showing us what an evil party is like, and how they interact together. Perhaps notable from this author is her descriptions, as Smedman’s style stands out differently from the other author’s writing in the series, in a good way that is. If you’re a fan of the War of the Spider Queen series, Extinction won’t fail you. If not, you might want to grab the first book in the series.
Rating: 3/5.
Annihilation by Philip Athans
If you’ve read it this far, then there’s really no reason why you should put down this book. The fifth book in the War of the Spider Queen series, Athans shows us perhaps the highest point in the story short of the climax. While not as skillful as Smedman, Athans has other strengths. Notable perhaps in this novel are several mage battles. And honestly, you’re nearly at the end, so it’ll be difficult to screw up the series’s interesting premise. Again, best avoided by the uninitiated.
Rating: 3/5.
The Binding Stone by Don Bassingthwaite
Another Eberron novel, it disappoints with its slow start and generic narrative. There’s an interesting plot element in the middle, but only hardcore psionic D&D fans would appreciate it. The next highest point would probably be near the end where all the necessary action takes place, but it all stinks of deus ex machina. If you’re a fan of Eberron, you should probably just try out the other books instead of this. The good points aren’t enough to salvage a generic and bad book.
Rating: 1.5/5.
The Robots of Dawn by Isaac Asimov
The last novel in his Robot series, this book only proves that Asimov’s true strength lies in his short stories. Long and winding, Asimov takes us to another mystery with a surprising twist at the end. It doesn’t pack as much oomph as his earlier work though, such as the Foundation or the I, Robot short stories, and the previous, shorter novels in the series are probably better. Still, it’s perhaps one of Asimov’s better attempts at writing a really long novel. Simple narratives and interesting concepts are tools which Asimov works with, and this book is no exception.
Rating: 3.5/5.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
[Essay] Bibliophile’s Haven
When I first became a bibliophile, one of the things I discovered was the myth called libraries. Parents, teachers, and the media seem to perpetuate this fallacy that libraries housed all these books. When I first entered our school library, I tried looking for the book I wanted to read. It was a futile attempt. Later on in life, I’d continue my desperate attempts at searching for books I didn’t find on the card catalog. When the Dewey Decimal System failed me, I tried looking for books manually, shelf by shelf, cranny by cranny. Common sense would dictate that if it wasn’t listed in the library’s archaic filing system, it’s not there. But the strangest thing is that sometimes, they do turn up, and in places you didn’t expect them.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of libraries. In fact, second to bookstores, libraries are one of my fondest places to be in. And they are good sources of free, reference books, as well as the occasional fiction novel or two. But aside from that, the literature-loving, fiction-hungry part of me was starving. Sure, most of the canon books were there, provided that they weren’t on loan. But what about the rest? Where are my Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Nick Hornby, or Jasper Fforde? Whenever someone would recommend a book to read, our teachers and parents would say “visit the library”. But as anyone who’d actually visited the library would know, libraries don’t contain each and every book (and I can’t blame theme... to house every book published would probably take up as much space as a small country). Yet everyone else seems to think so!
Libraries are pretty much like personal collections. I don’t think any person has the exact same set of CDs, the exact same stack of books, or the exact same album of coins and stamps. The same goes for libraries. Each one is an individual, some having a larger collection than others, but their selections are definitely unique. Of course libraries have a certain preference: school libraries and public libraries, in my experience, are general and try to have books on various topics, be it fiction or non-fiction. Others, on the other hand, are more specific. I mean don’t expect finding J.R.R. Tolkien on the shelves of the National Library of the Philippines, but it is a great place for those doing research.
Personally, if I’m really looking for a particular book, especially one that’s been published recently, I go to one of two places. The first are bookstores. The big ones have a wide selection of books to choose from, while the smaller, independent ones focus more on certain selections. For example, if you’re looking for locally published books, La Solidaridad Bookstore has a good selection, especially if you’re looking for books that were published by Solidaridad publishing. The likes of Aeon Books and A Different Bookstore, on the other hand, have been known for their terrific selection of fiction and philosophy. Bookstores are like tools: know which is the best one to use for a particular situation.
The other isn’t a place so much as it is a community. What I’m talking about is the Internet. Online bookstores like Amazon.com, while not possessing each and every book published, does contain an extensive selection. Of course this can only be achieved because of virtual real estate: unlike retail stores which take up shelf space for their books, online bookstores can just store them in a warehouse or order them on demand. Today’s current technology also introduces the concept of ebooks, documents that are presented in digital format. Ebooks give out-of-print books or unpopular authors a chance to be seen because of its format (i.e. little storage costs, low overhead), and in most cases, easily affordable as well.
Of course bookstores, unlike libraries, do charge fees for the books. In that, libraries are no replacement, unless you happen to have a friend (or group of friends) who has an extensive collection. Still, you only get what you pay for, and for some people, investing money is well worth the time you would have lost scavenging through book bins and libraries.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of libraries. In fact, second to bookstores, libraries are one of my fondest places to be in. And they are good sources of free, reference books, as well as the occasional fiction novel or two. But aside from that, the literature-loving, fiction-hungry part of me was starving. Sure, most of the canon books were there, provided that they weren’t on loan. But what about the rest? Where are my Agatha Christie, Stephen King, Nick Hornby, or Jasper Fforde? Whenever someone would recommend a book to read, our teachers and parents would say “visit the library”. But as anyone who’d actually visited the library would know, libraries don’t contain each and every book (and I can’t blame theme... to house every book published would probably take up as much space as a small country). Yet everyone else seems to think so!
Libraries are pretty much like personal collections. I don’t think any person has the exact same set of CDs, the exact same stack of books, or the exact same album of coins and stamps. The same goes for libraries. Each one is an individual, some having a larger collection than others, but their selections are definitely unique. Of course libraries have a certain preference: school libraries and public libraries, in my experience, are general and try to have books on various topics, be it fiction or non-fiction. Others, on the other hand, are more specific. I mean don’t expect finding J.R.R. Tolkien on the shelves of the National Library of the Philippines, but it is a great place for those doing research.
Personally, if I’m really looking for a particular book, especially one that’s been published recently, I go to one of two places. The first are bookstores. The big ones have a wide selection of books to choose from, while the smaller, independent ones focus more on certain selections. For example, if you’re looking for locally published books, La Solidaridad Bookstore has a good selection, especially if you’re looking for books that were published by Solidaridad publishing. The likes of Aeon Books and A Different Bookstore, on the other hand, have been known for their terrific selection of fiction and philosophy. Bookstores are like tools: know which is the best one to use for a particular situation.
The other isn’t a place so much as it is a community. What I’m talking about is the Internet. Online bookstores like Amazon.com, while not possessing each and every book published, does contain an extensive selection. Of course this can only be achieved because of virtual real estate: unlike retail stores which take up shelf space for their books, online bookstores can just store them in a warehouse or order them on demand. Today’s current technology also introduces the concept of ebooks, documents that are presented in digital format. Ebooks give out-of-print books or unpopular authors a chance to be seen because of its format (i.e. little storage costs, low overhead), and in most cases, easily affordable as well.
Of course bookstores, unlike libraries, do charge fees for the books. In that, libraries are no replacement, unless you happen to have a friend (or group of friends) who has an extensive collection. Still, you only get what you pay for, and for some people, investing money is well worth the time you would have lost scavenging through book bins and libraries.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
[Essay] Immortality
Strolling down the video game arcade of the local mall, I took a trip down memory lane and thought of the games that have been popular over the years. Looking at today’s games, one common element they have is the fact that you can now save your games. I mean one of the more popular racing arcade games right now is Initial D v.3 (well, at least it was so a few months ago). Aside from the fact that it’s based on a popular manga/anime, perhaps part of its allure is that you actually keep track of your best times and get to customize your vehicle (by playing more games of course). There’s even a shoot-em-up game where you can save your character as well and unlock hidden surprises in the various stages depending on what your level is. Which brings me to my next point: why are such video games popular?
Surprisingly, the answer isn’t really a new one, and is actually present in classic games be it Pac-Man or Gradius. Why is the save feature so important, be it in RPG’s, shoot-em-up games, or racing games? Perhaps in each and every human being, there’s a desire to be remembered, to be noticed, to be immortalized. Why do games feature high scores? Aside from having a goal to beat, it also broadcasts to everyone else that hey, somebody’s achieved this record, and we all get to see the initials of the person who did it. The save feature is actually a more complex form of this, as more details can be added, and results in a more unique calling card.
Breaking records wouldn’t perhaps be such a big deal if it weren’t publicized. Sure, you have a psychic victory, knowing that you accomplished this. You’re a hero, except only you knows it. You can brag about it, but not everyone would believe you. That’s why scoreboards are important, be it The Guinness Book of World Records, the high score on the local arcade machine, or the memory card you keep tucked in your pocket. I’m not saying this is everyone’s motivation for accomplishing something, but people feel appreciative whenever they’re remembered. To a certain extent, that’s also why some people get offended if you don’t remember their name.
Because mobile phones and text messaging (or email) are popular in this country, I often hear the statement “somebody loves me” whenever they receive a phone call or text message. That statement isn’t necessarily true every time you get a text message, but in the absence of love, most people will settle for being remembered.
Whenever I visit the poor and rural communities, some of the people there make one request from me. They’re not asking for money or goods, but to be merely remembered. Some of them ask me to write them letters, or to visit them some time. I never do. Instead, I honor them in my writing, with these stories of mine. I don’t always name them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember them. And perhaps the beauty of writing is that once it’s put down on paper, it’s forever there. No matter how much I’ll deny its existence, it’s proof to everyone else.
With each word I pen down, I immortalize myself and the subject I write about. There’s no guarantee that I’ll be remembered fondly, but writers can console themselves that they’ll be remembered at least.
Surprisingly, the answer isn’t really a new one, and is actually present in classic games be it Pac-Man or Gradius. Why is the save feature so important, be it in RPG’s, shoot-em-up games, or racing games? Perhaps in each and every human being, there’s a desire to be remembered, to be noticed, to be immortalized. Why do games feature high scores? Aside from having a goal to beat, it also broadcasts to everyone else that hey, somebody’s achieved this record, and we all get to see the initials of the person who did it. The save feature is actually a more complex form of this, as more details can be added, and results in a more unique calling card.
Breaking records wouldn’t perhaps be such a big deal if it weren’t publicized. Sure, you have a psychic victory, knowing that you accomplished this. You’re a hero, except only you knows it. You can brag about it, but not everyone would believe you. That’s why scoreboards are important, be it The Guinness Book of World Records, the high score on the local arcade machine, or the memory card you keep tucked in your pocket. I’m not saying this is everyone’s motivation for accomplishing something, but people feel appreciative whenever they’re remembered. To a certain extent, that’s also why some people get offended if you don’t remember their name.
Because mobile phones and text messaging (or email) are popular in this country, I often hear the statement “somebody loves me” whenever they receive a phone call or text message. That statement isn’t necessarily true every time you get a text message, but in the absence of love, most people will settle for being remembered.
Whenever I visit the poor and rural communities, some of the people there make one request from me. They’re not asking for money or goods, but to be merely remembered. Some of them ask me to write them letters, or to visit them some time. I never do. Instead, I honor them in my writing, with these stories of mine. I don’t always name them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember them. And perhaps the beauty of writing is that once it’s put down on paper, it’s forever there. No matter how much I’ll deny its existence, it’s proof to everyone else.
With each word I pen down, I immortalize myself and the subject I write about. There’s no guarantee that I’ll be remembered fondly, but writers can console themselves that they’ll be remembered at least.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
[Essay] A Man for All Seasons
When I was in high school, I was no stranger to outreach programs. At least in name. A number of my more popular batchmates were busy tutoring public school children during their spare time, while all I did was hang out at their org room, listening to their tales of this and that experience. To be honest, I didn’t find teaching kids appealing at the time. I was happy for my batchmates though, and one of the things I envied was their camaraderie. And so it was from them that I encountered the organization called ERDA (Educational Research and Development Assistance), which was responsible for one of the more popular outreach programs in our school.
Little did I know that six years later, I would meet the man responsible for such a prolific and altruistic venture, Fr. Pierre Trizt S.J.. Born at the borders of France and Germany, Fr. Tritz would eventually became a citizen of the Philippines in 1972 after switching allegiances between France and Germany several times. He originally enrolled in a school that gave its students a choice of which order to graduate from, and he chose the Jesuits, mainly because he wanted to go to China. He was inspired to do so after reading a book that dealt with the life of Matteo Ricci, one of the four original Jesuits who managed to penetrate China and befriended the emperor.
Life in China was everything Fr. Tritz imagined and more. In the span of a few months, he learned the language and began what would be his calling in life. He could not yet write in Chinese, but could read and understand the spoken word. Armed with those tools, he began teaching, and would set the pattern for his life. His vocation though was halted with the attack of the Japanese. It was a two-year head start before World War 2 began in Europe, and so the Japanese did not harm the Jesuits for they did not want to antagonize the French at this time. Fr. Pierre relocated to the Philippines, hoping to return to China one day.
When the war was over, China had changed and adopted a communist policy. Fr. Tritz remained in the Philippines, and eventually gained his citizenship during the Marcos era. During his stay here, he continued what he did in China: that is to teach and teach and teach. He was teaching at three universities, but as the years passed by, he had to give up one of them, especially in light of his health.
It was a book that originally inspired Fr. Tritz to pursue the life of a Jesuit in China. It would be another book that would inspire him to set up the foundation that is now known as ERDA. Receiving a copy of a digest given to guidance counselors, Fr. Tritz was shocked to find out that millions of children were uneducated and living in poverty. The advantage of the rich, he cited, was that they had kindergarten. The poor enters school at grade one, knowing nothing. Worse, few actually pay tuition or could afford to. All they have is whatever the government offers them.
Fr. Tritz was supported by the government and given permission to set up a 5-year high school. This high school taught a variety of skills, and one of the more important programs it had was on-the-job training. Once the students graduated, they had the skills necessary to find employment. And so began ERDA, which would later transform into a huge enterprise it is now, drawing aid from various people and volunteers.
When I was sitting in Fr. Tritz’s office, he had a photo of one of the students who were benefiting from ERDA. The student also gave a hand-written letter to Fr. Tritz, which he showed to me. Near his office were several stacks of boxes, each containing school supplies to be delivered to various parts of the nation. It would seem ERDA is successful in its goals, but Fr. Tritz remembers his roots. He tells me of various benefactors, such as Mr. Yuchengco, a wealthy but amiable man who supports and funds ERDA.
I leave the ERDA building, happy on one hand because of all Fr. Tritz has managed to accomplish, but disappointed as well considering how many Filipinos are still stricken by poverty and a lack of good education. As I rub off the shit I stepped outside ERDA’s gates, the one thing I am certain is Fr. Tritz’s sincerity. I mean a Jesuit could have been living in a more comfortable abode, yet the building in which ERDA resides is at the heart of the people they are trying to help. In front of me was a street littered with manure, dirt, and various street folk. The building itself, while sturdy, was unassuming, and could easily be mistaken for an abandoned warehouse.
Others might see outreach programs as a diversion, or perhaps a duty one needs to perform once in awhile, akin to attending Sunday mass. But here was Fr. Tritz, in his ninth decade, continuing an endeavor that might never be finished in his lifetime. For the man who’s survived the World War, migrated to a country half a continent away, and set up an altruistic foundation, he’s still working at it. I think I’ve caught a glimpse of what it is to espouse the Jesuit belief of magis, to strive for excellence, to strive for more.
Little did I know that six years later, I would meet the man responsible for such a prolific and altruistic venture, Fr. Pierre Trizt S.J.. Born at the borders of France and Germany, Fr. Tritz would eventually became a citizen of the Philippines in 1972 after switching allegiances between France and Germany several times. He originally enrolled in a school that gave its students a choice of which order to graduate from, and he chose the Jesuits, mainly because he wanted to go to China. He was inspired to do so after reading a book that dealt with the life of Matteo Ricci, one of the four original Jesuits who managed to penetrate China and befriended the emperor.
Life in China was everything Fr. Tritz imagined and more. In the span of a few months, he learned the language and began what would be his calling in life. He could not yet write in Chinese, but could read and understand the spoken word. Armed with those tools, he began teaching, and would set the pattern for his life. His vocation though was halted with the attack of the Japanese. It was a two-year head start before World War 2 began in Europe, and so the Japanese did not harm the Jesuits for they did not want to antagonize the French at this time. Fr. Pierre relocated to the Philippines, hoping to return to China one day.
When the war was over, China had changed and adopted a communist policy. Fr. Tritz remained in the Philippines, and eventually gained his citizenship during the Marcos era. During his stay here, he continued what he did in China: that is to teach and teach and teach. He was teaching at three universities, but as the years passed by, he had to give up one of them, especially in light of his health.
It was a book that originally inspired Fr. Tritz to pursue the life of a Jesuit in China. It would be another book that would inspire him to set up the foundation that is now known as ERDA. Receiving a copy of a digest given to guidance counselors, Fr. Tritz was shocked to find out that millions of children were uneducated and living in poverty. The advantage of the rich, he cited, was that they had kindergarten. The poor enters school at grade one, knowing nothing. Worse, few actually pay tuition or could afford to. All they have is whatever the government offers them.
Fr. Tritz was supported by the government and given permission to set up a 5-year high school. This high school taught a variety of skills, and one of the more important programs it had was on-the-job training. Once the students graduated, they had the skills necessary to find employment. And so began ERDA, which would later transform into a huge enterprise it is now, drawing aid from various people and volunteers.
When I was sitting in Fr. Tritz’s office, he had a photo of one of the students who were benefiting from ERDA. The student also gave a hand-written letter to Fr. Tritz, which he showed to me. Near his office were several stacks of boxes, each containing school supplies to be delivered to various parts of the nation. It would seem ERDA is successful in its goals, but Fr. Tritz remembers his roots. He tells me of various benefactors, such as Mr. Yuchengco, a wealthy but amiable man who supports and funds ERDA.
I leave the ERDA building, happy on one hand because of all Fr. Tritz has managed to accomplish, but disappointed as well considering how many Filipinos are still stricken by poverty and a lack of good education. As I rub off the shit I stepped outside ERDA’s gates, the one thing I am certain is Fr. Tritz’s sincerity. I mean a Jesuit could have been living in a more comfortable abode, yet the building in which ERDA resides is at the heart of the people they are trying to help. In front of me was a street littered with manure, dirt, and various street folk. The building itself, while sturdy, was unassuming, and could easily be mistaken for an abandoned warehouse.
Others might see outreach programs as a diversion, or perhaps a duty one needs to perform once in awhile, akin to attending Sunday mass. But here was Fr. Tritz, in his ninth decade, continuing an endeavor that might never be finished in his lifetime. For the man who’s survived the World War, migrated to a country half a continent away, and set up an altruistic foundation, he’s still working at it. I think I’ve caught a glimpse of what it is to espouse the Jesuit belief of magis, to strive for excellence, to strive for more.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
[Essay] Friendships
Vin and I were talking about friendships the other day and I was narrating how I often felt like a third wheel in most of the social circles I was in. For those who don’t know me, I don’t have a best friend, nor do I belong to a clique (or “barkada” as we call it in Filipino). Rather, I’m the guy who knows a lot of people (friendly acquaintances if you will), and perhaps the tragedy is that it stops there.
Not that it always began that way. I mean early on in grade school, I was a popular kid. I got high grades, I regularly had parties at home, and had a few sleepovers at my place with friends. But a part of me changed when I realized that I wasn’t being a good friend to those I was with. I mean when we were playing video games, for example, I always wanted to be one of the players and didn’t want to pass it on to other people. There was also the fact that yes, I was popular in school, but I was also teasing a lot of my other classmates. And I had a best friend at the time. Unfortunately, he was also a bully (more of the physical kind, not that he ever really hurt me physically), and shared my propensity for self-centeredness.
To put it bluntly, I don’t know what happened. The day I stopped teasing other people and started caring, the world around me changed. From predator I became prey. I faced the insults, the bullying, and the social isolation that kids were capable of. I survived, and found solace in the few friends that stuck with me.
And then I graduated from grade school, and three-fourths of the class weren’t my classmates anymore. Those that did remain my classmates were well, let’s just say that they weren’t exactly my top ten choices. High school was filled with new discoveries, new challenges. Unfortunately, few people wanted to be my friend.
Vin was mentioning that in maintaining and making friendships, one has to take a proactive stance. You shouldn’t just depend on the other person to keep in touch with you. In high school, I was very active to the point of annoyance. I talked to a lot of people and tried to be their friend. Unfortunately, no one in class truly wanted me. They had formed their own social circles, their own cliques. At best, I was at the fringes, tolerated but not invited. There’s always group activities in school. You know that feeling when classmates immediately know who to team up with? I was one of the rejects, the clumsy kid you usually picked last during a sports contest. And so I drifted into various groups, never truly belonging to any one team. I tried insinuating myself into their cliques, but I was merely rebuffed. I tried opening myself up to them but they didn’t care.
And so for four years I attempted that. But by my last year, I knew it was a futile effort. In a soap opera, I was the guy who courted the girl, but the girl was in love with someone else and would say that we could still be friends (and he’d help the girl nonetheless despite knowing the fact that they could never be together). I was accepted up to a certain point, but never brought in. I was the person you could rely on if you needed something, but not the person you invited to your birthdays, to your celebrations. And true enough, this would be the pattern in the various organizations I would be part of in the future. Of course I was foolish back then, and perhaps my weakness was that I was too eager to befriend people to the point that I was “clingy”. Which as you know, turns off some people, and makes them less trusting of you. So if I lacked good friends back then, it wasn’t due to the lack of effort but perhaps too much of it. And people who would call me friend always kept me at a distance.
Graduating once again, I had a paradigm shift. But the results were still the same. I was a bit more amiable, a bit more friendly, and perhaps a bit more cunning. Unlike in the past where I was mister unpopular, now I was the guy who knew everyone. Yet the same problem persisted. I was kept at a distance, never truly having close friends. Lots of friends, yes. Close friends, no. So many of my weekends were lonely, and school actually gave a comforting aura because I was around people. Honestly, when you’re in college, making friends is easy. They’re all around you. And because you’re all facing common adversity (i.e. terror teachers, difficult schoolwork, merely belonging to the same class), there’s something you can talk about and one doesn’t need to be shy about approaching other people. Compare that to the real word, where you don’t talk to the stranger sitting beside you in the jeep, or the person you come across at the supermarket. The only place where you’re perhaps forced into forming friendships is the work place. Aside from that, you revert to your old habits, and party with the same set of friends you previously had.
Of course nowadays, I can’t say I’m brimming with effort to deepen friendships. When somebody asks me how was my day, I reply with a generic answer of “okay lang” (just fine), mainly because explaining the trials and tribulations would take too long, and I feel I shouldn’t burden other people with all my worries and complaints (that’s what reading my blog is for). Or at least if they’re sincere about it. How do I know if the other person is just finding an excuse to make casual conversation, or if they’re really interested in my day. The other reason why I reply with such a generic answer is because of confidentiality issues. Suffice to say, there are some stories I can’t tell other people because they’re not my right to do so (case in point: as a call center agent, you can’t really talk about your clients because that’s a breach in protocol; the best rant I can do is talk in vague motions, but nothing really specific).
Not that I’ve stopped being friendly to people. In fact, I’ve made a few new friends over the past year. But the fact is that I’m usually at the periphery, and no one wants to take the risk of deepening the friendship. On my part, I don’t want to take on the role of the uninvited guest, because I’ve played that part too often in the past, and all you get are disgruntled people. And perhaps the other factor that’s impeding me is the fact that I’ve developed a reputation. Sure, some people like me. But a number of people hate my guts, or hate my habits, or have reasons to dislike me (whether justified or unjustified). Just look at my friend’s list in livejournal. A number of people there hate me. But I add them to my friend’s list anyway, because to tell the truth, I don’t usually break the relationship. It’s usually other people who do so. Offhand, I can only remember one incident where I was the one responsible for breaking off with the other person. As for the rest, it’s usually the other side that gets mad at me, gets angry, or simply stops being my friend because their friends got mad at me.
Moral of the story? Well, it takes two to tango when it comes to forming deep relationships. I mean I could be the most amiable person in the world, but if the other person is unwilling to accept me, then there’s no friendship. Vin says you can win them over with persistence. Well, that’s true. But the opposite can also happen: they’ll get so annoyed with you that from mutual acquaintance you’ll turn into a pariah. And of course, even if you’re already friends with someone, unless you take the time to keep in touch, that relationship will eventually drift. People change, after all, and it’s the gradual changes that we can live with. When you keep out of touch with someone, you’ll one day discover that he or she is a totally different person. And perhaps another fact I want to tell is that people’s perceptions should change as well. I mean people do change, yet more often than not, the way we treat other people is as if they were static. I mean personally, I’ve grown and matured. Some people who dislike me before have seen the changes and have grown to accept me. Some still perceive me as the foolish kid I still once was though. And the opposite can be true as well: a person might have been a good friend to you once, but now, they’ve changed whether for the better or for the worse. The relationship shouldn’t remain static but change appropriately as well.
A fitting end would perhaps be my experience just a few hours ago. On my walk home, I passed by Robinsons Galleria to take shelter from the rain. A Chinese boy, with pale skin and shaved head, looked at me and started following me. He eventually came up to me and introduced himself as Allen. What’s your name, he asked. Charles, I said. Can I be your friend, he asked again. By now, I was suspecting he was a retarded kid or something (and his speech pattern didn’t help him either, because they were far from fluent). I hesitated, but I eventually said sure. He then asked me more details, such as where I was heading and where I lived. Of course I remember the warnings parents usually give to their children: don’t talk to strangers. And so I answered truthfully but vaguely, mentioning that I was walking home and that I lived in Mandaluyong. I asked him whom he was with and he said his companions were at the basement. By now, I was eager to get rid of him. Honestly, I appreciate the gesture. But why did he choose me of all people? I suspect it’s because he has nothing else to go on but by appearances, and by my appearance, I looked like one of his kin: that is, a fellow Chinese.
Before I walked out of the building, he eventually left me and said goodbye. We shook hands and I was only too eager to be away from him. Perhaps we’re not so alone in the world as we think we are. There are people willing to be our friends. The problem with us (and me in this case), I think, is that we choose our friends. We don’t accept who’s available, but rather pick the ones we think we deserve. It’s much like courting a girl: you think is the perfect one for you. Unfortunately, her opinion greatly differs from yours. And you have this friend, waiting patiently for you at the outskirts. But we ignore her, because we think she’s not the one for us. Sometimes it’s true. Sometimes… we’ll never know. Stranger friendships have been born out of stranger circumstances.
Not that it always began that way. I mean early on in grade school, I was a popular kid. I got high grades, I regularly had parties at home, and had a few sleepovers at my place with friends. But a part of me changed when I realized that I wasn’t being a good friend to those I was with. I mean when we were playing video games, for example, I always wanted to be one of the players and didn’t want to pass it on to other people. There was also the fact that yes, I was popular in school, but I was also teasing a lot of my other classmates. And I had a best friend at the time. Unfortunately, he was also a bully (more of the physical kind, not that he ever really hurt me physically), and shared my propensity for self-centeredness.
To put it bluntly, I don’t know what happened. The day I stopped teasing other people and started caring, the world around me changed. From predator I became prey. I faced the insults, the bullying, and the social isolation that kids were capable of. I survived, and found solace in the few friends that stuck with me.
And then I graduated from grade school, and three-fourths of the class weren’t my classmates anymore. Those that did remain my classmates were well, let’s just say that they weren’t exactly my top ten choices. High school was filled with new discoveries, new challenges. Unfortunately, few people wanted to be my friend.
Vin was mentioning that in maintaining and making friendships, one has to take a proactive stance. You shouldn’t just depend on the other person to keep in touch with you. In high school, I was very active to the point of annoyance. I talked to a lot of people and tried to be their friend. Unfortunately, no one in class truly wanted me. They had formed their own social circles, their own cliques. At best, I was at the fringes, tolerated but not invited. There’s always group activities in school. You know that feeling when classmates immediately know who to team up with? I was one of the rejects, the clumsy kid you usually picked last during a sports contest. And so I drifted into various groups, never truly belonging to any one team. I tried insinuating myself into their cliques, but I was merely rebuffed. I tried opening myself up to them but they didn’t care.
And so for four years I attempted that. But by my last year, I knew it was a futile effort. In a soap opera, I was the guy who courted the girl, but the girl was in love with someone else and would say that we could still be friends (and he’d help the girl nonetheless despite knowing the fact that they could never be together). I was accepted up to a certain point, but never brought in. I was the person you could rely on if you needed something, but not the person you invited to your birthdays, to your celebrations. And true enough, this would be the pattern in the various organizations I would be part of in the future. Of course I was foolish back then, and perhaps my weakness was that I was too eager to befriend people to the point that I was “clingy”. Which as you know, turns off some people, and makes them less trusting of you. So if I lacked good friends back then, it wasn’t due to the lack of effort but perhaps too much of it. And people who would call me friend always kept me at a distance.
Graduating once again, I had a paradigm shift. But the results were still the same. I was a bit more amiable, a bit more friendly, and perhaps a bit more cunning. Unlike in the past where I was mister unpopular, now I was the guy who knew everyone. Yet the same problem persisted. I was kept at a distance, never truly having close friends. Lots of friends, yes. Close friends, no. So many of my weekends were lonely, and school actually gave a comforting aura because I was around people. Honestly, when you’re in college, making friends is easy. They’re all around you. And because you’re all facing common adversity (i.e. terror teachers, difficult schoolwork, merely belonging to the same class), there’s something you can talk about and one doesn’t need to be shy about approaching other people. Compare that to the real word, where you don’t talk to the stranger sitting beside you in the jeep, or the person you come across at the supermarket. The only place where you’re perhaps forced into forming friendships is the work place. Aside from that, you revert to your old habits, and party with the same set of friends you previously had.
Of course nowadays, I can’t say I’m brimming with effort to deepen friendships. When somebody asks me how was my day, I reply with a generic answer of “okay lang” (just fine), mainly because explaining the trials and tribulations would take too long, and I feel I shouldn’t burden other people with all my worries and complaints (that’s what reading my blog is for). Or at least if they’re sincere about it. How do I know if the other person is just finding an excuse to make casual conversation, or if they’re really interested in my day. The other reason why I reply with such a generic answer is because of confidentiality issues. Suffice to say, there are some stories I can’t tell other people because they’re not my right to do so (case in point: as a call center agent, you can’t really talk about your clients because that’s a breach in protocol; the best rant I can do is talk in vague motions, but nothing really specific).
Not that I’ve stopped being friendly to people. In fact, I’ve made a few new friends over the past year. But the fact is that I’m usually at the periphery, and no one wants to take the risk of deepening the friendship. On my part, I don’t want to take on the role of the uninvited guest, because I’ve played that part too often in the past, and all you get are disgruntled people. And perhaps the other factor that’s impeding me is the fact that I’ve developed a reputation. Sure, some people like me. But a number of people hate my guts, or hate my habits, or have reasons to dislike me (whether justified or unjustified). Just look at my friend’s list in livejournal. A number of people there hate me. But I add them to my friend’s list anyway, because to tell the truth, I don’t usually break the relationship. It’s usually other people who do so. Offhand, I can only remember one incident where I was the one responsible for breaking off with the other person. As for the rest, it’s usually the other side that gets mad at me, gets angry, or simply stops being my friend because their friends got mad at me.
Moral of the story? Well, it takes two to tango when it comes to forming deep relationships. I mean I could be the most amiable person in the world, but if the other person is unwilling to accept me, then there’s no friendship. Vin says you can win them over with persistence. Well, that’s true. But the opposite can also happen: they’ll get so annoyed with you that from mutual acquaintance you’ll turn into a pariah. And of course, even if you’re already friends with someone, unless you take the time to keep in touch, that relationship will eventually drift. People change, after all, and it’s the gradual changes that we can live with. When you keep out of touch with someone, you’ll one day discover that he or she is a totally different person. And perhaps another fact I want to tell is that people’s perceptions should change as well. I mean people do change, yet more often than not, the way we treat other people is as if they were static. I mean personally, I’ve grown and matured. Some people who dislike me before have seen the changes and have grown to accept me. Some still perceive me as the foolish kid I still once was though. And the opposite can be true as well: a person might have been a good friend to you once, but now, they’ve changed whether for the better or for the worse. The relationship shouldn’t remain static but change appropriately as well.
A fitting end would perhaps be my experience just a few hours ago. On my walk home, I passed by Robinsons Galleria to take shelter from the rain. A Chinese boy, with pale skin and shaved head, looked at me and started following me. He eventually came up to me and introduced himself as Allen. What’s your name, he asked. Charles, I said. Can I be your friend, he asked again. By now, I was suspecting he was a retarded kid or something (and his speech pattern didn’t help him either, because they were far from fluent). I hesitated, but I eventually said sure. He then asked me more details, such as where I was heading and where I lived. Of course I remember the warnings parents usually give to their children: don’t talk to strangers. And so I answered truthfully but vaguely, mentioning that I was walking home and that I lived in Mandaluyong. I asked him whom he was with and he said his companions were at the basement. By now, I was eager to get rid of him. Honestly, I appreciate the gesture. But why did he choose me of all people? I suspect it’s because he has nothing else to go on but by appearances, and by my appearance, I looked like one of his kin: that is, a fellow Chinese.
Before I walked out of the building, he eventually left me and said goodbye. We shook hands and I was only too eager to be away from him. Perhaps we’re not so alone in the world as we think we are. There are people willing to be our friends. The problem with us (and me in this case), I think, is that we choose our friends. We don’t accept who’s available, but rather pick the ones we think we deserve. It’s much like courting a girl: you think is the perfect one for you. Unfortunately, her opinion greatly differs from yours. And you have this friend, waiting patiently for you at the outskirts. But we ignore her, because we think she’s not the one for us. Sometimes it’s true. Sometimes… we’ll never know. Stranger friendships have been born out of stranger circumstances.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Jam 88.3 Neil Gaiman Interview (with annotations)
Thanks to May Anne who posted a link from Nocturne which had an audio file of the Jam 88.3 interview.
Erin*: First of all, hi!
Neil: Hello.
Erin: So how do you like the Philippines here so far? How was it for you?
Neil: I think I probably have an odd perspective on the Philippines right now. Because while I think it’s wonderful, all I think of when I think of the Philippines is three thousand people shouting very loudly to express their enthusiasm and signing the people until 1:30 in the morning. They’re so nice, they’re so enthusiastic and they’re so terribly terribly terribly terrifyingly happy.
Erin: As you probably know by now, you have a lot of fans here. So who is your favorite writer, or what is your favorite book?
Neil: That’s such a hard one. I just bought a book in Italy that I’ve been looking for for some years and I’ve been looking for a copy called Codex Seraphina which is a book by an artist and it’s written in a language that doesn’t appear to bear any relationship to any alphabet that any human being has ever come up with and it’s filled with drawings that make no sense in a glorious way because they appear to make sense. There are plants and a people who, and things that seem some kind of wonderful book that fell here from another planet. And I’ve been looking for one for ages, I’ve heard about it and copies are very few and far between. I finally found one in a tiny bookshelf in Balonia Italy. And right now that’s my favorite book just because it could be anything. I look at the pages and I make up stories, anything that causes me to make up stories is good. But somebody in Singapore asked me if I had to run into the house to save any book, what would it be. And that was scary because I got thousands and thousands of books, many of which I love and, but I thought you know, I’m probably gonna rescue would be a book that I bought in a very old house where they had, three times a year they’d sell books absorbed converted hospital. And the old man who ran it, Mr. McCosh**, looked like Santa Claus’s anorexic older brother. Long white beard and gaze at you over his spectacles. He sold books and every single time it’ll riddle in awe and show at cubicle had been filled with shelves and put books. Three times a year the public could come in. And I was wondering around there and I found a book that was, about two feet long, one foot thick, huge thick leather cover, about a hundred and fifty years old, and when I opened it, it turned out to be like an account book. Writing business accounts in and it was numbered pages, number one to five hundred. And each page sat flat and it was this book from the 1850s and it was completely unwritten in, and I bought it promising myself one day I would write a book in it. And I haven’t dared yet, even making a mark upon the paper. I think I’d rescue that.
-commercial break-
Erin: A lot of people say Delirium was based on singer Tori Amos. Is there any other character that has been created by you that was based on anyone else that you know of?
Neil: Well you know, you sort of, you always steal little things from people. I mean Delirium, lots of people do know that Delirium is based on Tori, but that’s not actually true because I did not actually meet Tori until, I was writing I think I was in the middle of A Game of You when we actually met for the first time. But I met her, and it was like, oh my God, you’re my character! I know you! And after that, I cheerfully installed things that she said and give them to Delirium. My favorite was, once, when we were in, we met in Minneapolis and we were up in her room eating pizza sitting on the floor and she suddenly looked at me and she said, yeah we must jump up and down, up and down, and run around and around. And so we jumped up and down on the bed twenty minutes, that’s what we do. And my new novel, Anansi Boys, for example, there isn’t a character in it who’s based on my friend playing Henry***, who’s an English comedian and actor. But the novel itself wouldn’t exist if I wasn’t friends with Henry and if we hadn’t chatted and if I didn’t have his sort of voice at the back of my head. So Anansi owes a lot to him. There’s an evil agent named Graham Coats who is flat-out naughty character I ever created, who owes an awful lot to an ex-agent of mine, who was not actually as far as I can tell a particularly evil person, that was just completely useless. But there was this point when I started thinking, what if she wasn’t useless, what if she actually been doing this stuff intentionally? What if, actually she was just completely and utterly incompetent. But if she’d been evil, and if the money had been going off to the Canan Islands or something, and then I started creating this marvelous agent who was, you know, built more of his, built more of his plans facing overnight.
Erin: Last question. I’m just amazed by your writing style and how you phrase your words just right. Were most of them inspired from, when you talk to other people or do you just make them up in your head?
Neil: Mostly, they come out of my own head. Every now and then, somebody will say something wonderful and I’d remember it, and use it at the right time. In the film MirrorMask that I’ve been working on, probably the best line is actually stolen from a friend who, because it’s about a girl who works in a circus, and at one point her mother says to her, like all those kids out there, you really are ungrateful because all those kids out there, they’re watching and laughing and enjoying the circus. And she says well, I wanna run off and join real life. And that came out of a friend of mine who used to be in the circus and she told me that you know, it was easier for you people when you got to any big town because they’d run off to join real work. And I go okay, let me remember that. But mostly, the process of writing is a process of sitting and making things up and writing it down, and framing it up with a perfect line, and trying to come up with a perfect line for your character. I’m a great believer in the idea that good writing should be a simple and as elegant and used as few words and uses, you know, just be as elegant as you can possibly make it. I’ve never been a believer in using big words for the sake of impressing people. Especially because if you use big words for the sake of impressing people, you tend to do that thing where you actually wind up not quite knowing what that big word you used means and saying something that isn’t quite what you mean. Which I find a lot of American writers who have gone through their MFA’s and they are now, gone through their creative writing courses and yet reading these things, okay you don’t know what that word means. You think you do, but you’re wrong. You looked it up in a thesaurus, and it doesn’t mean that. I love the idea of communicating. I love the idea of people who, if people who read what you write are going to understand what you wrote, which I think gets even more exciting for you when you do something like a children’s book. Something like Coraline where you’re intentionally writing with a, not huge vocabulary, and you’re intentionally writing with words that, you know trust most a kid will learn while the rest of them will be a few cool words to learn and impress your brethren. But, it’s sorts of the way you deploy those words. And if you can just deploy them like, you can make people happy or you can make them cry or you can make them never forget something.
Erin: Thank you very much.
Neil: You are very welcome. Thank you.
-End-
* Also known as Nissie to her friends, Erin wrote a book review for Coraline which won her this contest. She’s cosplayed the character Death in a local convention, and her hobbies include reading, gaming, drawing, writing, web design, and stitching.
** Mr. Melvin McCosh was a bookstore owner (hence the extensive book collection) from Minneapolis. The place is actually the Svithoid Home, a former retirement home that did not have enough rest rooms which caused the health department to close it down, after which Mr. McCosh moved in. During Mr. McCosh’s residency, it was a 42-room mansion filled with stacks of books. He moved out in December 2004 and the place was demolished.
*** Referring to Lenny Henry, a friend of Neil who’s doing the audio book of Anansi Boys. He’s also won the BBC British Personality of the Year Award and the Edric Connor Inspiration to the Black People Award.
Erin*: First of all, hi!
Neil: Hello.
Erin: So how do you like the Philippines here so far? How was it for you?
Neil: I think I probably have an odd perspective on the Philippines right now. Because while I think it’s wonderful, all I think of when I think of the Philippines is three thousand people shouting very loudly to express their enthusiasm and signing the people until 1:30 in the morning. They’re so nice, they’re so enthusiastic and they’re so terribly terribly terribly terrifyingly happy.
Erin: As you probably know by now, you have a lot of fans here. So who is your favorite writer, or what is your favorite book?
Neil: That’s such a hard one. I just bought a book in Italy that I’ve been looking for for some years and I’ve been looking for a copy called Codex Seraphina which is a book by an artist and it’s written in a language that doesn’t appear to bear any relationship to any alphabet that any human being has ever come up with and it’s filled with drawings that make no sense in a glorious way because they appear to make sense. There are plants and a people who, and things that seem some kind of wonderful book that fell here from another planet. And I’ve been looking for one for ages, I’ve heard about it and copies are very few and far between. I finally found one in a tiny bookshelf in Balonia Italy. And right now that’s my favorite book just because it could be anything. I look at the pages and I make up stories, anything that causes me to make up stories is good. But somebody in Singapore asked me if I had to run into the house to save any book, what would it be. And that was scary because I got thousands and thousands of books, many of which I love and, but I thought you know, I’m probably gonna rescue would be a book that I bought in a very old house where they had, three times a year they’d sell books absorbed converted hospital. And the old man who ran it, Mr. McCosh**, looked like Santa Claus’s anorexic older brother. Long white beard and gaze at you over his spectacles. He sold books and every single time it’ll riddle in awe and show at cubicle had been filled with shelves and put books. Three times a year the public could come in. And I was wondering around there and I found a book that was, about two feet long, one foot thick, huge thick leather cover, about a hundred and fifty years old, and when I opened it, it turned out to be like an account book. Writing business accounts in and it was numbered pages, number one to five hundred. And each page sat flat and it was this book from the 1850s and it was completely unwritten in, and I bought it promising myself one day I would write a book in it. And I haven’t dared yet, even making a mark upon the paper. I think I’d rescue that.
-commercial break-
Erin: A lot of people say Delirium was based on singer Tori Amos. Is there any other character that has been created by you that was based on anyone else that you know of?
Neil: Well you know, you sort of, you always steal little things from people. I mean Delirium, lots of people do know that Delirium is based on Tori, but that’s not actually true because I did not actually meet Tori until, I was writing I think I was in the middle of A Game of You when we actually met for the first time. But I met her, and it was like, oh my God, you’re my character! I know you! And after that, I cheerfully installed things that she said and give them to Delirium. My favorite was, once, when we were in, we met in Minneapolis and we were up in her room eating pizza sitting on the floor and she suddenly looked at me and she said, yeah we must jump up and down, up and down, and run around and around. And so we jumped up and down on the bed twenty minutes, that’s what we do. And my new novel, Anansi Boys, for example, there isn’t a character in it who’s based on my friend playing Henry***, who’s an English comedian and actor. But the novel itself wouldn’t exist if I wasn’t friends with Henry and if we hadn’t chatted and if I didn’t have his sort of voice at the back of my head. So Anansi owes a lot to him. There’s an evil agent named Graham Coats who is flat-out naughty character I ever created, who owes an awful lot to an ex-agent of mine, who was not actually as far as I can tell a particularly evil person, that was just completely useless. But there was this point when I started thinking, what if she wasn’t useless, what if she actually been doing this stuff intentionally? What if, actually she was just completely and utterly incompetent. But if she’d been evil, and if the money had been going off to the Canan Islands or something, and then I started creating this marvelous agent who was, you know, built more of his, built more of his plans facing overnight.
Erin: Last question. I’m just amazed by your writing style and how you phrase your words just right. Were most of them inspired from, when you talk to other people or do you just make them up in your head?
Neil: Mostly, they come out of my own head. Every now and then, somebody will say something wonderful and I’d remember it, and use it at the right time. In the film MirrorMask that I’ve been working on, probably the best line is actually stolen from a friend who, because it’s about a girl who works in a circus, and at one point her mother says to her, like all those kids out there, you really are ungrateful because all those kids out there, they’re watching and laughing and enjoying the circus. And she says well, I wanna run off and join real life. And that came out of a friend of mine who used to be in the circus and she told me that you know, it was easier for you people when you got to any big town because they’d run off to join real work. And I go okay, let me remember that. But mostly, the process of writing is a process of sitting and making things up and writing it down, and framing it up with a perfect line, and trying to come up with a perfect line for your character. I’m a great believer in the idea that good writing should be a simple and as elegant and used as few words and uses, you know, just be as elegant as you can possibly make it. I’ve never been a believer in using big words for the sake of impressing people. Especially because if you use big words for the sake of impressing people, you tend to do that thing where you actually wind up not quite knowing what that big word you used means and saying something that isn’t quite what you mean. Which I find a lot of American writers who have gone through their MFA’s and they are now, gone through their creative writing courses and yet reading these things, okay you don’t know what that word means. You think you do, but you’re wrong. You looked it up in a thesaurus, and it doesn’t mean that. I love the idea of communicating. I love the idea of people who, if people who read what you write are going to understand what you wrote, which I think gets even more exciting for you when you do something like a children’s book. Something like Coraline where you’re intentionally writing with a, not huge vocabulary, and you’re intentionally writing with words that, you know trust most a kid will learn while the rest of them will be a few cool words to learn and impress your brethren. But, it’s sorts of the way you deploy those words. And if you can just deploy them like, you can make people happy or you can make them cry or you can make them never forget something.
Erin: Thank you very much.
Neil: You are very welcome. Thank you.
-End-
* Also known as Nissie to her friends, Erin wrote a book review for Coraline which won her this contest. She’s cosplayed the character Death in a local convention, and her hobbies include reading, gaming, drawing, writing, web design, and stitching.
** Mr. Melvin McCosh was a bookstore owner (hence the extensive book collection) from Minneapolis. The place is actually the Svithoid Home, a former retirement home that did not have enough rest rooms which caused the health department to close it down, after which Mr. McCosh moved in. During Mr. McCosh’s residency, it was a 42-room mansion filled with stacks of books. He moved out in December 2004 and the place was demolished.
*** Referring to Lenny Henry, a friend of Neil who’s doing the audio book of Anansi Boys. He’s also won the BBC British Personality of the Year Award and the Edric Connor Inspiration to the Black People Award.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Partial NU 107 Neil Gaiman Interview Transcript
Special thanks to Astrid, whose site I downloaded a copy of the radio interview, as well as the interviewers Ramon de Veyra, Erwin Romulo, and Quark Henares.
Unfortunately, my active listening skills aren’t as keen as I want them to be, hence I am not able to distinguish between the various interviewers, despite knowing them personally (well, I don’t think Quark remembers me…).
Neil: You know but I remember the first time I noticed, I don’t remember the first time I met her, but I do remember the first time I noticed you. She was, it was actually one of those why miss you’re beautiful moment. She’d had these dreadful glasses that did not fit her well and one day they got broken so for a week she walked around with no glasses on and suddenly, it was like whoa! She of course didn’t know that I was staring at her going whoa! She couldn’t see anything.
NU107: And you have tickets is that right?
Neil: That’s right. Michael, Holly, who’s twenty and a bit more [couldn’t understand] and is currently in South Africa, which is really peculiar, the idea of, you know a few days ago, I was in Singapore, on the phone to my wife who just got off the phone with my daughter who was in South Africa at a wild life park watching frog-shooting stars thinking the world is a much much smaller place than it used to be for a moment. And then there’s Maddy who’s the littlest one. And she’s ten and she’s really funny, she’s I think the one who may, probably most likely to turn into a writer herself if she doesn’t grow up to be a stand-up comedian. And I actually got to do something to impress her. I never impress her. Nothing I do ever impresses Maddy which is actually kind of fun. But we were in London a few weeks ago and we had dinner with a magician named Darren Brown who’s one of the best magicians in London, in England, and possibly the world. And Darren, when it was done, when it was over we went out for dinner, and Stephen Fry, the English actor and comedian from Black Adder, the voice of the book in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy came over to talk to Darren, and said this is Neil Gaiman, and Stephen Fry said oh Neil Gaiman! Yes, I’m a huge fan of yours, the era of the graphic novel has dawned upon us at last, has it not my boy? And he turns to Maddy and says and you young lady, shake my hand. What is your name says Maddy. I’m Stephen Fry. He goes away. It was very very sweet. And she looks at me and she goes I just met Stephen Fry and I didn’t let him know I thought that was the coolest thing in the world. Okay, I understand. Cool dad thing.
NU107: How old is she now?
Neil: She’s ten. And very very funny. The other cool thing that I’ve done for her, she became an Archie comic fan. And because I’m Neil Gaiman, when the people at Archie Comics found out that my daughter was a huge Archie comic fan, they put her on their complimentary comic list. I get the big complimentary comics from DC, and she gets the envelope of comics from Archie. She’s much happier than I am.
NU107: Would you ever do an Archie comic?
Neil: If she told me to, I would.
NU107: Really?
NU107: Has she read The Day I Swapped My Dad?
Neil: She has, she quites like it. To be honest, would I ever write an Archie comic? If it was a matter of impressing her, yes I would. But actually what’s much more likely is she’d go and write an Archie comic. And then they’d print it. And they can say Gaiman, cover, and it actually it would be Maddy, which would be much more fun.
NU107: All right. I have a fanboy question. You always talk about Alan Moore but you never really talk about the other Vertigo writers. Among your fellow writers in that imprint, what do you think of them actually.
Neil: The trouble is, for example, Pete Milligan, I only know very vaguely. You know, I know each other to say hi to, but we don’t really know each other very well. Garth Ennis and I like each other, don’ know each other well. Grant is a good friend of mine, Grant Morrison. And you know, whenever I’m in Glasgow I’d go out to dinner with Grant and, Grant is funny because I remember Grant. Again, I’ve known Grant now for twenty something years so I remember him. When I first met him, he was this very skinny guy, a little bit older than me, used to wear long trench coats, and had this huge muck of black hair. And that’s always how I think of him. And incredibly shy you know. You couldn’t hear for the first three years of knowing Grant, you had to lean in really close to hear what he was saying because he’s spoken in this very precise little Scottish accent very very quietly, (in Scottish accent) and it would just come out with these stories for Baman and out for Sandman where I got Batman in drag butt-fucking the Joker and that kind of thing they do.
NU107: (extreme laughter) NU!
Neil: So in Singapore, this would have got you off the air, and we’d all right now be, the police would be, we’d all be on the way to jail.
NU107: We’d all be getting butt-blanked. (laughs)
Neil: That’s the kind of thing Grant would say, to be the terribly wonderfully appalling thing in a very precise such thing and very very quiet. Didn’t say this isn’t Grant, Grant has begun this, shaven headed, chaos magician of the twenty first century you know, glittering creature of, and whenever I run into him, I ask him what are you doing now Grant? (In Scottish accent) Oh I’m now, you know, off to Iceland, or I’m giving these talks to major corporations on drugs and chaos magic and they’re uh, they’re paying me enormous amounts of money to come and just tell them they’re idiots. Okay.
NU107: That’s really interesting because that’s one of the common themes of Morrison’s work, is reinvention of himself. So I didn’t even know that he was... shy. I always thought—
NU107: He’s a rock star!
NU107: --shameless in the best sense of the word.
Neil: That’s the fun of knowing all these people for so long. You know, I knew Alan Moore before he was a magician.
NU107: How did you meet him?
Neil: I remember him, how did I meet Alan Moore? I sent him, I sent Alan Moore, I sent him—
NU107: Ghastly Beyond Belief
Neil: Very good. You done your homework. I sent Alan Moore a copy of my first ever book, which was a book called Ghastly Beyond Belief, the book of science-fiction and fantasy quotations which I wrote with Kim Newman, and I was a huge fan of his and I’ve been following his work, actually gotten several jobs beneath his nose I’ve gotten several jobs over his because he would say, who would do this. I’d say Alan Moore’s great, get Alan Moore. But fine, I had something out, I sent it to Alan, and the phone rang, and a deep noise after that, (deep voice) you bastard I just lost two days work reading your book. I just phoned up to say thank you. Really? And we were friends. It was one of those sort of incident-bonding moments and I was going to a horror convention in Burningham and I mentioned to Alan that Nancy Campbell and Clive Barker would be there. And he said, I wouldn’t really want to come unless I knew. I said I know everybody, I’ll introduce you. I turn up at the convention, I look up, there is something looking enormously like a yeti in a suit. Really nasty, red suit. I mean expensive, great looking thin shoes, high built, and then there’s this lush of hair, erupting. And that was Alan, incredibly devised and quite possibly the funniest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know anybody, I’ve met a number of great comedians and I think that Alan is funnier. But that was before he was a magician. And I remember when, he actually hasn’t changed. And he wears more rings and, a little bit wee thinner. But I do remember when he became a magician, it was his fortieth birthday and the telephone rang, and a voice said hi Neil, it’s Alan. Listen mate just phoning up to let you know that I just turned forty, and I thought you know, better have me midlife crisis early so I’m becoming a warlock.
NU107: (laughs) Grant practices magic and Alan does too, do you or?
Neil: Nah, I write. I think that’s all the magic I need.
NU107: Damn strange.
NU107: He’s one of the people who showed you how to write a comic script?
Neil: He did. I mean that sort of became rather blown up in context when people go, well Alan showed you, you know he took me somewhere and showed me the dark secret. It was actually during that convention I turned to Alan and I said, look I don’t know, what is a comic script? I always wanted to know. Come on, let me show you. He grabbed his notebook, and wrote page one, panel one. So you write it, and then you say whatever you see. We are all looking at a room with a man in it, and you write down everything in it that you possibly want the artist to know, and if somebody is speaking, you write their name. Luther, ow, that hurt. That’s what he says. That really hurts, do you wanna see? Meanwhile, and next pam! And that’s how you do it. And that was Alan’s, I mean comic script.
NU107: I can use this? [couldn’t hear next comment]
Neil: You can use that, you bring out a comic of your own. Ow that hurts. Luther’s cringing.
NU107: Well we’re going to end soon, sadly. But, okay the future. You’re doing a movie and that probably is, are you terrified or?
Neil: No, I made a short film a couple of years ago to find out what I thought of filmmaking. I made a short film about John Bolton, which in some ways is a documentary about artist John Bolton, and in some ways really isn’t. But I made it, essentially a small student film to just find out whether I liked directing. Because there are things I’m really good at, like making up stories, and there are things I’m completely crap at, like putting up shelves. And I needed to figure out. You know, is directing a film like putting a show or is it like making up stories? I just felt it was a lot more like making up stories. You had the power of because I say so, which was what I found frustrating when I write scripts for other people and you write a script and then you know, the point that I knew that Neverwhere, the British production of Neverwhere was doomed on CD was the point when I was talking to the costume lady. And she said, this is Doors Parker, her little, you know, pink parker. And I said but she’s gonna be wearing a big leather jacket. And the girl said yeah there’s too much leather in the show already. I thought, and in the script I wrote, she was the only person wearing any leather. And the costume lady looked at me like, you’re the writer. You know, I look after the director and we know what we’re doing. And it’s the power of because I say so. So what I love, you know what I really love, I think most of all about, you know the movie stuff is, you don’t have to like it. Nobody has to like it except me. But at least it’s what I wanted it to be. With Mirrormask, it’s a slightly different thing. Because with Mirrormask, it’s not my film. And there’s no point in it where I go, you know, that way because I say so, but I felt very much writing it, that I was just there to make, to visualize, to help Dave McKean. You know, Mirrormask is Dave McKean’s film from beginning to end. It’s his story. I got there, I got to work on him in his story, I got to part, part sample with him, I got to put together dialogue but it’s a Dave McKean experience with that sort of filming.
NU107: Has he done the casting already or?
Neil: Mirrormask is tied out.
NU107: I mean Death’s the nature?
Neil: Death with, it’s casting but it’s casting in that weird Hollywood way right now, which has nothing to do with, the weird Hollywood method of casting which has nothing to do with really who you wanted things and how, it had to do with, if you imagine that you need, let’s say, a hundred points in order to start your movie. You’re like collecting chips or dice or cards or something in order to start your movie, and you need a hundred of them let’s say. And you discover that you could have, actor A is 30, actor B is 40, and actor C is 50 and that gives you your hundred points and can start casting. But you don’t really want actor A, so you want, you know you want actor B, the actor, it’s the thing of getting to the point where you can get a green light for the casting job. And that’s really a lousy way of explaining, everybody’s gonna be going, we know he makes it. But you’re trying to accumulate enough points in Hollywood to get the green light. And that’s sitting at the back control at that point. Just okay, if you want actor A, you’re going to have someone more famous here in this part. Then you go, what if I? Sooner or later you have enough sort of oomph to get the movie actually happening.
NU107: You wrote the script for Death and you know, onwards. Was it, how, is it close to the book or did you expand it?
Neil: I obviously had to expand it because the joy, that was the joy of me, if you took Death: The High Cost of Living and you filmed it, you’d have a great thirty-seven minute film. Maybe forty minutes but it doesn’t get any longer than that. Because that’s as long as the serial is. So, which is why I was interested as opposed to Sandman, where the first thing you looked at is what do you draw out. You know, it’s too big. If you’ve done Sandman, you’d have a hundred hours of material to film.
NU107: They’re not bringing in script doctors to muddle the script a bit?
Neil: No, no. It’s just me.
NU107: Have the studios asked for anything, like to be put more [couldn’t hear] or something like that, are they interested in concepts so far?
Neil: Not so far.
NU107: That’s great.
Neil: We had one exec, we had one exec that was quite sure that it was the next Princess Diaries but then she went away and was replaced by the guy who did Lord of the Rings who understood what exactly this was and was completely happy with it.
NU107: New Line.
Neil: It’s with New Line.
NU107: Fantastic. Thank God for small world.
NU107: Do you have a final cut in the project?
Neil: No. You get final copies on the movie when you’re, you’re kinda in this position, you have to be, indeed you more or less have to be a Stanley Kubrick to get a final cut. I’m sure, I’m there.
NU107: (laughs)
Neil: I’m sure you still bag me because it is still a final cut but there’s not a lot of directors who have final cuts. At least at Hollywood by itself, you can always have final cuts on a smaller independent or you can do what Dave McKean did, and get final cuts on Mirrormask which nobody else has a clue how to make what he did, how to do it, or possibly to change it. There’s never money to do it anyway, so.
NU107: You were talking about Death, well we were talking about it, I just remembered Mad Hettie and all of these great characters and you’ve done a lot of really fantastic characters over the years. Which one, I mean, it’s probably hard to say, it’s like saying who your favorite kid is, but do you have any characters you made that you really identify with or really love?
Neil: I think when I was writing Sandman, the characters I identified with most were probably Lucien the Librarian and Mervyn the Pumpkinhead. They were actually, in terms of identification with characters, because the lovely thing, especially Mervyn, was that he was allowed to say any of those things that I was thinking could possibly write. So those moments where you go boy, you know, Morpheus is really just being a complete pain in the neck. You know, self-pitying teenage twerp there isn’t he? I can have Mervyn Pumpkinhead come on and say great, so I see what happens, he has a broken heart, and it starts raining here and we’re the guys who get wet and have to clean it up. That was always nice, having him around.
NU107: Well Morpheus is an interesting character in the sense that you know, he’s not really one you would really tend to like, you know. I mean you want to follow his story but he is yeah, a bit of a, you know, he always bitches about his past relationships and is giving everyone a hard time just because he’s having a hard time himself. So when you started, did you, did you know that the character would be going that way?
Neil: Oh yeah. No, I always knew that. For me the joy of him was trying to write a character who wasn’t human, who did not have a human value system, was completely in many ways self-absorbed, would always try and do the right thing if it was pointed out what the right thing was. But then had absolutely no, just didn’t have human values. And that for me was so much part of the fun.
NU107: Was DC ever scared that the character might be unlikable and you know, sort of...
Neil: Yeah, yeah yeah. No they, in the, they dumped my first outline for it and that was a big worry, would the character be liked and would be problematic and I sort of vaguely promised them that he would get a human girlfriend at some point, and they really loved that because they thought that would humanize the character, and I didn’t tell them any of the unfortunate consequences. I never told them that they would never actually see themselves. So when he actually did get a human girlfriend, it was actually between two issues and they broken up when you met them.
NU107: And he went the other one. He sent another one to hell. (laughs)
NU107: Sandman is one of the most epic thing you’ve ever done. Still, are you planning on doing some, I mean it’s probably very exhausting to do something so long, and so drawn out but are you planning on doing another?
Neil: By the time I finished, Sandman was about eight years of my life. Nine. It was actually from the point when I started writing Sandman to the point where it finished, it was, it was a solid nine years of something that was two weeks of every month when I began and six months of every month by the time I finished. And at that point I promised myself that I would basically just do things I could finish by tea time for awhile. I’m not yet at the point where I want to buckle down for another, you know, decade-long building or something. In many ways, I could probably do now in prose what I did in comics if I wanted to just because we’re now at the point where, between things like the Lemony Snicket books and the Harry Potter books, and to some extent Stephen King’s Green Mile, you now have an audience that actually, a book reading audience that actually understands the nature of serial fiction. Which of course was the complete joy of doing Sandman, it was serial fiction. It came out monthly. Having said that, the thing that I love about being a novelist right now is if I get to chapter six and I suddenly realize that I needed a gun in that drawer in chapter one, I can just go back and put a gun in the drawer in chapter one and nobody ever knows that it wasn’t there in my first draft. When I was writing Sandman, it was like this incredibly complicated game of, it was like playing a game of chess while jumping out of a parachute you know, out an airplane. Because if I got to issue thirty six and the gun was not in the drawer in issue three, it couldn’t be there in issue thirty six. Because everybody had already bought and read issue two. So, you’re always building in things for the future, knowing sort of what you’re gonna do, but not quite how it would work until you got there but having to plan ahead and it was sort of a strange sort of mixture of juggling, improvisation, and incredibly skillful planning.
NU107: So none of that for awhile I guess.
Neil: It’s nice right now doing things, I’m getting rid of other things. As I said, by the time I finished Sandman, I felt like I was sorely decent at writing comics I had the idea that there are some comics I could write or at least I was very good a writing Sandman. I’m now ,I’m enjoying writing prose for a bit and I’m just getting to the point, with Anansi Boys, it’s the first one that I actually look at and I go, I think you’re a fairly decent novel. American Gods won a million awards and was everybody’s favorite book except for the people who hated it but I still wasn’t sure that it really worked. There were a lot of things I would have liked to got better if I had five or six more years to work on it. And I didn’t. With Anansi Boys I think it’s good. It’s funny, it’s light, I wanted to write a book, especially after <>American Gods which is big and dark and gloomy. I thought we must write a book that would make people feel happier when they finished it. So it’ll be out in September.
NU107: At Fully Booked.
NU107: Fully Booked, Fully Booked. There you go. They have a lot of… Promenade, Gateway.
NU107: With a nice store in Rockwell.
Neil: Where I signed yesterday for hour, after hour after hour after hour. And right at the end we saw a hundred people who actually hadn’t passes or anything, hanging around really patiently in the heat, and I said okay, look if we just do one, if I don’t have to personalize anything, if it’s just one signature for each of them, I would do them. So we cleaned up the people who’ve been waiting.
NU107: Fantastic.
NU107: Yeah, last question then before we—
NU107: Ramon I think?
NU107: Go ahead.
NU107: I guess you’ve achieved so much already. What do you think is, what’s there left for you? I mean what excites you to achieve?
Neil: There’s nothing in the same way that they used to be. I don’t have that wonderful, sort of burning drive. It’s like the first time you get an award. When you’re a kid, and you read about things like the Nebula award or the Hugo award, it’s the coolest thing that you could ever possibly imagine and I can remember getting my first Hugo award for American Gods, and getting up there and giving a very short speech which began with a very rude word, and then me saying I got a Hugo. And it was the coolest thing that ever happened. And then I got my second Hugo for Coraline and then I got a Hugo for best short story last year. And now it’s like—
NU107: A Study in Emerald
Neil: A Study in Emerald.And now it’s like, this is really cool. I got three Hugo’s but I don’t actually have a burning desire anymore. I begun to two or maybe three Nebula awards, and I have. It’s great, and people say did you really won an Oscar or something? No, not particularly. I’ve got lots of awards that are really nice. It got to the point where my wife made me go get a special cabinet just to put them in because they were cluttering the place up and people would sit over them and stuff so now they’re going into a cabinet. There’s definitely no kind of, when I was little more than a kid working on Black Orchid and I finished writing Black Orchid I was in the early days of Sandman, maybe Sandman #1, #2, #3 at the outside I was working on, but I think I had just written #1. And I remember taking the plane to America and Dave McKean entrusted me with the art for Black Orchid to take it to America, to get it shot. And we didn’t have, there was no back-up plan. It hadn’t been scanned anywhere in England, I would always take it with me. And I thought you know, I really, I remember just being absolutely terrified, in the middle of the Atlantic when the plane would go down. And the Black Orchid arc they would never redo it, you know, they would just move on to the next thing and Sandman #1 they might bring it out they might not, but you know, nobody would really know what Sandman was going to be because even if they brought out this one comic as a memorial or whatever, that was the biggest thing I had intended, and should have been boy this would be really terrible if my whole career didn’t happen. And the plane went down. I’m not worried. These days I’m not worried when the plane it goes down. I left behind ,you know, a shelf of really cool stuff and three cool kids. And if I wind up, this looks more really interesting stuff that I wanna do, and lots more mistakes I wanna make. And I want to screw up and I want to do interesting stuff and maybe I’ll do, you know write something original that’s just going to be an audio book and maybe I’ll do this do that. But it’s, but there’s no feeling right now of having left something huge, unfulfilled. I’m a writer, most writers around the world can’t make a living writing. I just, the hard horrible fact of the case, writers do other things because we can’t make a living. And a writer has got to spend his entire adult life, being paid for making things up, and writing them down, and people giving them awards, and I arrive at places like the Philippines, and you know, I get this sort of micro, incredibly cheerful Nurenberg rally with this wall of sound and three thousand people just screaming and, people passing by going is he a rock star? No, he’s a writer. I mean how cool is that?
NU107: Yeah that’s like, Ed Sullivan. When you came in I wasn’t expecting (makes a sound, raaah!).
Neil: So right now you have all those people hanging around the lobby. Most of them with extra field books somewhere and maybe I’ll sign them as I go out.
NU107: If. Sorry.
Neil: No, it’s great. I’m incredibly fortunate. And I also know as I set up that rally, that most, in many ways it’s luck because I happen to write stuff that people like to read. And if they didn’t like to read it, I’d still be writing the same stuff. It’s not like I have a brilliant sense of the market place, it’s not like I was going, okay what the world really needs is Sandman, you know, twenty years ago what the world needs is a single Sandman, and then it will go huge, and then it will be ten volumes, and it will and then there’ll be this huge mandrake explosion and then everybody will pick up on it and then, you know, you don’t really think like that. I write the kind of stuff I like to read and that’s as simple as that. And you know with my children’s books sometimes I write the kind of books I either would have liked to read as a kid or like my kids to read. You know, it’s very very straight forward and people like to read it. If what was fashionable now was police procedurals, I’d still be writing the same stuff I write.
NU107: Or superhero comics. As you said, you have a hard time writing that sort of thing.
Neil: I’m rubbish at superheroes. I always cheat. I can, I can sort of, with Black Orchid, maybe I can do science-fiction and make it look like superheroes. And with Sandman maybe I can do cool, mythic horror weird stuff and make it look like superheroes. You know, with 1602, okay maybe I can do historical fiction and do a bit of superheroes.
NU107: Okay, there you go. A lot of people texted in they just want to say that you’ve changed their lives and they’re very very happy and some of them went to your book signing and just want to say thank you for being just the nicest guy.
Neil: That was so sweet. I sat on this morning and I probably had a hundred messages from people who’ve been to my book signing and all of them are the same. There were these lovely long messages saying when I got to the front of the line, I didn’t say. And then what they wanted to say when they got to the front of the line instead of breaking down into tears or squeaking can I marry you or whatever.
NU107: Thank you Mr. Neil Gaiman. Somebody texted and asking who are you interviewing? Are you interviewing David Bowie? For those who’ve just tuned in, we’re interviewing Neil Gaiman, not David Bowie.
NU107: Who has a signing yet this afternoon.
Neil: The Neil Gaiman signing, not the David Bowie signing.
NU107: Where’s the signing?
NU107: Fully Booked, Gateway. What time? 4:30, be there at the activity center right?
NU107: With three hundred people lined up.
NU107: Okay, don’t go.
NU107: Do go, but admire from afar, and buy the books, share the love. Send your psychic messages. Mirrormask the big hard bound, it just came out, Anansi Boys coming out in September. And you can get the whole Sandman library at Fully Booked. And Neverwhere.
NU107: Thank you to Jaime Daez and Gabby Delarama and Christian Sisima of NU who made this possible.
NU107: So what’s your last song sir?
Neil: I’ve been thinking about it. I think I was gonna play Horses but I think by Tori because that was the saddest song but I thought actually, another song because it’s completely inappropriate in every way. Papa was a Rodeo by the Magnetic Fields.
Unfortunately, my active listening skills aren’t as keen as I want them to be, hence I am not able to distinguish between the various interviewers, despite knowing them personally (well, I don’t think Quark remembers me…).
Neil: You know but I remember the first time I noticed, I don’t remember the first time I met her, but I do remember the first time I noticed you. She was, it was actually one of those why miss you’re beautiful moment. She’d had these dreadful glasses that did not fit her well and one day they got broken so for a week she walked around with no glasses on and suddenly, it was like whoa! She of course didn’t know that I was staring at her going whoa! She couldn’t see anything.
NU107: And you have tickets is that right?
Neil: That’s right. Michael, Holly, who’s twenty and a bit more [couldn’t understand] and is currently in South Africa, which is really peculiar, the idea of, you know a few days ago, I was in Singapore, on the phone to my wife who just got off the phone with my daughter who was in South Africa at a wild life park watching frog-shooting stars thinking the world is a much much smaller place than it used to be for a moment. And then there’s Maddy who’s the littlest one. And she’s ten and she’s really funny, she’s I think the one who may, probably most likely to turn into a writer herself if she doesn’t grow up to be a stand-up comedian. And I actually got to do something to impress her. I never impress her. Nothing I do ever impresses Maddy which is actually kind of fun. But we were in London a few weeks ago and we had dinner with a magician named Darren Brown who’s one of the best magicians in London, in England, and possibly the world. And Darren, when it was done, when it was over we went out for dinner, and Stephen Fry, the English actor and comedian from Black Adder, the voice of the book in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy came over to talk to Darren, and said this is Neil Gaiman, and Stephen Fry said oh Neil Gaiman! Yes, I’m a huge fan of yours, the era of the graphic novel has dawned upon us at last, has it not my boy? And he turns to Maddy and says and you young lady, shake my hand. What is your name says Maddy. I’m Stephen Fry. He goes away. It was very very sweet. And she looks at me and she goes I just met Stephen Fry and I didn’t let him know I thought that was the coolest thing in the world. Okay, I understand. Cool dad thing.
NU107: How old is she now?
Neil: She’s ten. And very very funny. The other cool thing that I’ve done for her, she became an Archie comic fan. And because I’m Neil Gaiman, when the people at Archie Comics found out that my daughter was a huge Archie comic fan, they put her on their complimentary comic list. I get the big complimentary comics from DC, and she gets the envelope of comics from Archie. She’s much happier than I am.
NU107: Would you ever do an Archie comic?
Neil: If she told me to, I would.
NU107: Really?
NU107: Has she read The Day I Swapped My Dad?
Neil: She has, she quites like it. To be honest, would I ever write an Archie comic? If it was a matter of impressing her, yes I would. But actually what’s much more likely is she’d go and write an Archie comic. And then they’d print it. And they can say Gaiman, cover, and it actually it would be Maddy, which would be much more fun.
NU107: All right. I have a fanboy question. You always talk about Alan Moore but you never really talk about the other Vertigo writers. Among your fellow writers in that imprint, what do you think of them actually.
Neil: The trouble is, for example, Pete Milligan, I only know very vaguely. You know, I know each other to say hi to, but we don’t really know each other very well. Garth Ennis and I like each other, don’ know each other well. Grant is a good friend of mine, Grant Morrison. And you know, whenever I’m in Glasgow I’d go out to dinner with Grant and, Grant is funny because I remember Grant. Again, I’ve known Grant now for twenty something years so I remember him. When I first met him, he was this very skinny guy, a little bit older than me, used to wear long trench coats, and had this huge muck of black hair. And that’s always how I think of him. And incredibly shy you know. You couldn’t hear for the first three years of knowing Grant, you had to lean in really close to hear what he was saying because he’s spoken in this very precise little Scottish accent very very quietly, (in Scottish accent) and it would just come out with these stories for Baman and out for Sandman where I got Batman in drag butt-fucking the Joker and that kind of thing they do.
NU107: (extreme laughter) NU!
Neil: So in Singapore, this would have got you off the air, and we’d all right now be, the police would be, we’d all be on the way to jail.
NU107: We’d all be getting butt-blanked. (laughs)
Neil: That’s the kind of thing Grant would say, to be the terribly wonderfully appalling thing in a very precise such thing and very very quiet. Didn’t say this isn’t Grant, Grant has begun this, shaven headed, chaos magician of the twenty first century you know, glittering creature of, and whenever I run into him, I ask him what are you doing now Grant? (In Scottish accent) Oh I’m now, you know, off to Iceland, or I’m giving these talks to major corporations on drugs and chaos magic and they’re uh, they’re paying me enormous amounts of money to come and just tell them they’re idiots. Okay.
NU107: That’s really interesting because that’s one of the common themes of Morrison’s work, is reinvention of himself. So I didn’t even know that he was... shy. I always thought—
NU107: He’s a rock star!
NU107: --shameless in the best sense of the word.
Neil: That’s the fun of knowing all these people for so long. You know, I knew Alan Moore before he was a magician.
NU107: How did you meet him?
Neil: I remember him, how did I meet Alan Moore? I sent him, I sent Alan Moore, I sent him—
NU107: Ghastly Beyond Belief
Neil: Very good. You done your homework. I sent Alan Moore a copy of my first ever book, which was a book called Ghastly Beyond Belief, the book of science-fiction and fantasy quotations which I wrote with Kim Newman, and I was a huge fan of his and I’ve been following his work, actually gotten several jobs beneath his nose I’ve gotten several jobs over his because he would say, who would do this. I’d say Alan Moore’s great, get Alan Moore. But fine, I had something out, I sent it to Alan, and the phone rang, and a deep noise after that, (deep voice) you bastard I just lost two days work reading your book. I just phoned up to say thank you. Really? And we were friends. It was one of those sort of incident-bonding moments and I was going to a horror convention in Burningham and I mentioned to Alan that Nancy Campbell and Clive Barker would be there. And he said, I wouldn’t really want to come unless I knew. I said I know everybody, I’ll introduce you. I turn up at the convention, I look up, there is something looking enormously like a yeti in a suit. Really nasty, red suit. I mean expensive, great looking thin shoes, high built, and then there’s this lush of hair, erupting. And that was Alan, incredibly devised and quite possibly the funniest person I’ve ever met. I don’t know anybody, I’ve met a number of great comedians and I think that Alan is funnier. But that was before he was a magician. And I remember when, he actually hasn’t changed. And he wears more rings and, a little bit wee thinner. But I do remember when he became a magician, it was his fortieth birthday and the telephone rang, and a voice said hi Neil, it’s Alan. Listen mate just phoning up to let you know that I just turned forty, and I thought you know, better have me midlife crisis early so I’m becoming a warlock.
NU107: (laughs) Grant practices magic and Alan does too, do you or?
Neil: Nah, I write. I think that’s all the magic I need.
NU107: Damn strange.
NU107: He’s one of the people who showed you how to write a comic script?
Neil: He did. I mean that sort of became rather blown up in context when people go, well Alan showed you, you know he took me somewhere and showed me the dark secret. It was actually during that convention I turned to Alan and I said, look I don’t know, what is a comic script? I always wanted to know. Come on, let me show you. He grabbed his notebook, and wrote page one, panel one. So you write it, and then you say whatever you see. We are all looking at a room with a man in it, and you write down everything in it that you possibly want the artist to know, and if somebody is speaking, you write their name. Luther, ow, that hurt. That’s what he says. That really hurts, do you wanna see? Meanwhile, and next pam! And that’s how you do it. And that was Alan’s, I mean comic script.
NU107: I can use this? [couldn’t hear next comment]
Neil: You can use that, you bring out a comic of your own. Ow that hurts. Luther’s cringing.
NU107: Well we’re going to end soon, sadly. But, okay the future. You’re doing a movie and that probably is, are you terrified or?
Neil: No, I made a short film a couple of years ago to find out what I thought of filmmaking. I made a short film about John Bolton, which in some ways is a documentary about artist John Bolton, and in some ways really isn’t. But I made it, essentially a small student film to just find out whether I liked directing. Because there are things I’m really good at, like making up stories, and there are things I’m completely crap at, like putting up shelves. And I needed to figure out. You know, is directing a film like putting a show or is it like making up stories? I just felt it was a lot more like making up stories. You had the power of because I say so, which was what I found frustrating when I write scripts for other people and you write a script and then you know, the point that I knew that Neverwhere, the British production of Neverwhere was doomed on CD was the point when I was talking to the costume lady. And she said, this is Doors Parker, her little, you know, pink parker. And I said but she’s gonna be wearing a big leather jacket. And the girl said yeah there’s too much leather in the show already. I thought, and in the script I wrote, she was the only person wearing any leather. And the costume lady looked at me like, you’re the writer. You know, I look after the director and we know what we’re doing. And it’s the power of because I say so. So what I love, you know what I really love, I think most of all about, you know the movie stuff is, you don’t have to like it. Nobody has to like it except me. But at least it’s what I wanted it to be. With Mirrormask, it’s a slightly different thing. Because with Mirrormask, it’s not my film. And there’s no point in it where I go, you know, that way because I say so, but I felt very much writing it, that I was just there to make, to visualize, to help Dave McKean. You know, Mirrormask is Dave McKean’s film from beginning to end. It’s his story. I got there, I got to work on him in his story, I got to part, part sample with him, I got to put together dialogue but it’s a Dave McKean experience with that sort of filming.
NU107: Has he done the casting already or?
Neil: Mirrormask is tied out.
NU107: I mean Death’s the nature?
Neil: Death with, it’s casting but it’s casting in that weird Hollywood way right now, which has nothing to do with, the weird Hollywood method of casting which has nothing to do with really who you wanted things and how, it had to do with, if you imagine that you need, let’s say, a hundred points in order to start your movie. You’re like collecting chips or dice or cards or something in order to start your movie, and you need a hundred of them let’s say. And you discover that you could have, actor A is 30, actor B is 40, and actor C is 50 and that gives you your hundred points and can start casting. But you don’t really want actor A, so you want, you know you want actor B, the actor, it’s the thing of getting to the point where you can get a green light for the casting job. And that’s really a lousy way of explaining, everybody’s gonna be going, we know he makes it. But you’re trying to accumulate enough points in Hollywood to get the green light. And that’s sitting at the back control at that point. Just okay, if you want actor A, you’re going to have someone more famous here in this part. Then you go, what if I? Sooner or later you have enough sort of oomph to get the movie actually happening.
NU107: You wrote the script for Death and you know, onwards. Was it, how, is it close to the book or did you expand it?
Neil: I obviously had to expand it because the joy, that was the joy of me, if you took Death: The High Cost of Living and you filmed it, you’d have a great thirty-seven minute film. Maybe forty minutes but it doesn’t get any longer than that. Because that’s as long as the serial is. So, which is why I was interested as opposed to Sandman, where the first thing you looked at is what do you draw out. You know, it’s too big. If you’ve done Sandman, you’d have a hundred hours of material to film.
NU107: They’re not bringing in script doctors to muddle the script a bit?
Neil: No, no. It’s just me.
NU107: Have the studios asked for anything, like to be put more [couldn’t hear] or something like that, are they interested in concepts so far?
Neil: Not so far.
NU107: That’s great.
Neil: We had one exec, we had one exec that was quite sure that it was the next Princess Diaries but then she went away and was replaced by the guy who did Lord of the Rings who understood what exactly this was and was completely happy with it.
NU107: New Line.
Neil: It’s with New Line.
NU107: Fantastic. Thank God for small world.
NU107: Do you have a final cut in the project?
Neil: No. You get final copies on the movie when you’re, you’re kinda in this position, you have to be, indeed you more or less have to be a Stanley Kubrick to get a final cut. I’m sure, I’m there.
NU107: (laughs)
Neil: I’m sure you still bag me because it is still a final cut but there’s not a lot of directors who have final cuts. At least at Hollywood by itself, you can always have final cuts on a smaller independent or you can do what Dave McKean did, and get final cuts on Mirrormask which nobody else has a clue how to make what he did, how to do it, or possibly to change it. There’s never money to do it anyway, so.
NU107: You were talking about Death, well we were talking about it, I just remembered Mad Hettie and all of these great characters and you’ve done a lot of really fantastic characters over the years. Which one, I mean, it’s probably hard to say, it’s like saying who your favorite kid is, but do you have any characters you made that you really identify with or really love?
Neil: I think when I was writing Sandman, the characters I identified with most were probably Lucien the Librarian and Mervyn the Pumpkinhead. They were actually, in terms of identification with characters, because the lovely thing, especially Mervyn, was that he was allowed to say any of those things that I was thinking could possibly write. So those moments where you go boy, you know, Morpheus is really just being a complete pain in the neck. You know, self-pitying teenage twerp there isn’t he? I can have Mervyn Pumpkinhead come on and say great, so I see what happens, he has a broken heart, and it starts raining here and we’re the guys who get wet and have to clean it up. That was always nice, having him around.
NU107: Well Morpheus is an interesting character in the sense that you know, he’s not really one you would really tend to like, you know. I mean you want to follow his story but he is yeah, a bit of a, you know, he always bitches about his past relationships and is giving everyone a hard time just because he’s having a hard time himself. So when you started, did you, did you know that the character would be going that way?
Neil: Oh yeah. No, I always knew that. For me the joy of him was trying to write a character who wasn’t human, who did not have a human value system, was completely in many ways self-absorbed, would always try and do the right thing if it was pointed out what the right thing was. But then had absolutely no, just didn’t have human values. And that for me was so much part of the fun.
NU107: Was DC ever scared that the character might be unlikable and you know, sort of...
Neil: Yeah, yeah yeah. No they, in the, they dumped my first outline for it and that was a big worry, would the character be liked and would be problematic and I sort of vaguely promised them that he would get a human girlfriend at some point, and they really loved that because they thought that would humanize the character, and I didn’t tell them any of the unfortunate consequences. I never told them that they would never actually see themselves. So when he actually did get a human girlfriend, it was actually between two issues and they broken up when you met them.
NU107: And he went the other one. He sent another one to hell. (laughs)
NU107: Sandman is one of the most epic thing you’ve ever done. Still, are you planning on doing some, I mean it’s probably very exhausting to do something so long, and so drawn out but are you planning on doing another?
Neil: By the time I finished, Sandman was about eight years of my life. Nine. It was actually from the point when I started writing Sandman to the point where it finished, it was, it was a solid nine years of something that was two weeks of every month when I began and six months of every month by the time I finished. And at that point I promised myself that I would basically just do things I could finish by tea time for awhile. I’m not yet at the point where I want to buckle down for another, you know, decade-long building or something. In many ways, I could probably do now in prose what I did in comics if I wanted to just because we’re now at the point where, between things like the Lemony Snicket books and the Harry Potter books, and to some extent Stephen King’s Green Mile, you now have an audience that actually, a book reading audience that actually understands the nature of serial fiction. Which of course was the complete joy of doing Sandman, it was serial fiction. It came out monthly. Having said that, the thing that I love about being a novelist right now is if I get to chapter six and I suddenly realize that I needed a gun in that drawer in chapter one, I can just go back and put a gun in the drawer in chapter one and nobody ever knows that it wasn’t there in my first draft. When I was writing Sandman, it was like this incredibly complicated game of, it was like playing a game of chess while jumping out of a parachute you know, out an airplane. Because if I got to issue thirty six and the gun was not in the drawer in issue three, it couldn’t be there in issue thirty six. Because everybody had already bought and read issue two. So, you’re always building in things for the future, knowing sort of what you’re gonna do, but not quite how it would work until you got there but having to plan ahead and it was sort of a strange sort of mixture of juggling, improvisation, and incredibly skillful planning.
NU107: So none of that for awhile I guess.
Neil: It’s nice right now doing things, I’m getting rid of other things. As I said, by the time I finished Sandman, I felt like I was sorely decent at writing comics I had the idea that there are some comics I could write or at least I was very good a writing Sandman. I’m now ,I’m enjoying writing prose for a bit and I’m just getting to the point, with Anansi Boys, it’s the first one that I actually look at and I go, I think you’re a fairly decent novel. American Gods won a million awards and was everybody’s favorite book except for the people who hated it but I still wasn’t sure that it really worked. There were a lot of things I would have liked to got better if I had five or six more years to work on it. And I didn’t. With Anansi Boys I think it’s good. It’s funny, it’s light, I wanted to write a book, especially after <>American Gods which is big and dark and gloomy. I thought we must write a book that would make people feel happier when they finished it. So it’ll be out in September.
NU107: At Fully Booked.
NU107: Fully Booked, Fully Booked. There you go. They have a lot of… Promenade, Gateway.
NU107: With a nice store in Rockwell.
Neil: Where I signed yesterday for hour, after hour after hour after hour. And right at the end we saw a hundred people who actually hadn’t passes or anything, hanging around really patiently in the heat, and I said okay, look if we just do one, if I don’t have to personalize anything, if it’s just one signature for each of them, I would do them. So we cleaned up the people who’ve been waiting.
NU107: Fantastic.
NU107: Yeah, last question then before we—
NU107: Ramon I think?
NU107: Go ahead.
NU107: I guess you’ve achieved so much already. What do you think is, what’s there left for you? I mean what excites you to achieve?
Neil: There’s nothing in the same way that they used to be. I don’t have that wonderful, sort of burning drive. It’s like the first time you get an award. When you’re a kid, and you read about things like the Nebula award or the Hugo award, it’s the coolest thing that you could ever possibly imagine and I can remember getting my first Hugo award for American Gods, and getting up there and giving a very short speech which began with a very rude word, and then me saying I got a Hugo. And it was the coolest thing that ever happened. And then I got my second Hugo for Coraline and then I got a Hugo for best short story last year. And now it’s like—
NU107: A Study in Emerald
Neil: A Study in Emerald.And now it’s like, this is really cool. I got three Hugo’s but I don’t actually have a burning desire anymore. I begun to two or maybe three Nebula awards, and I have. It’s great, and people say did you really won an Oscar or something? No, not particularly. I’ve got lots of awards that are really nice. It got to the point where my wife made me go get a special cabinet just to put them in because they were cluttering the place up and people would sit over them and stuff so now they’re going into a cabinet. There’s definitely no kind of, when I was little more than a kid working on Black Orchid and I finished writing Black Orchid I was in the early days of Sandman, maybe Sandman #1, #2, #3 at the outside I was working on, but I think I had just written #1. And I remember taking the plane to America and Dave McKean entrusted me with the art for Black Orchid to take it to America, to get it shot. And we didn’t have, there was no back-up plan. It hadn’t been scanned anywhere in England, I would always take it with me. And I thought you know, I really, I remember just being absolutely terrified, in the middle of the Atlantic when the plane would go down. And the Black Orchid arc they would never redo it, you know, they would just move on to the next thing and Sandman #1 they might bring it out they might not, but you know, nobody would really know what Sandman was going to be because even if they brought out this one comic as a memorial or whatever, that was the biggest thing I had intended, and should have been boy this would be really terrible if my whole career didn’t happen. And the plane went down. I’m not worried. These days I’m not worried when the plane it goes down. I left behind ,you know, a shelf of really cool stuff and three cool kids. And if I wind up, this looks more really interesting stuff that I wanna do, and lots more mistakes I wanna make. And I want to screw up and I want to do interesting stuff and maybe I’ll do, you know write something original that’s just going to be an audio book and maybe I’ll do this do that. But it’s, but there’s no feeling right now of having left something huge, unfulfilled. I’m a writer, most writers around the world can’t make a living writing. I just, the hard horrible fact of the case, writers do other things because we can’t make a living. And a writer has got to spend his entire adult life, being paid for making things up, and writing them down, and people giving them awards, and I arrive at places like the Philippines, and you know, I get this sort of micro, incredibly cheerful Nurenberg rally with this wall of sound and three thousand people just screaming and, people passing by going is he a rock star? No, he’s a writer. I mean how cool is that?
NU107: Yeah that’s like, Ed Sullivan. When you came in I wasn’t expecting (makes a sound, raaah!).
Neil: So right now you have all those people hanging around the lobby. Most of them with extra field books somewhere and maybe I’ll sign them as I go out.
NU107: If. Sorry.
Neil: No, it’s great. I’m incredibly fortunate. And I also know as I set up that rally, that most, in many ways it’s luck because I happen to write stuff that people like to read. And if they didn’t like to read it, I’d still be writing the same stuff. It’s not like I have a brilliant sense of the market place, it’s not like I was going, okay what the world really needs is Sandman, you know, twenty years ago what the world needs is a single Sandman, and then it will go huge, and then it will be ten volumes, and it will and then there’ll be this huge mandrake explosion and then everybody will pick up on it and then, you know, you don’t really think like that. I write the kind of stuff I like to read and that’s as simple as that. And you know with my children’s books sometimes I write the kind of books I either would have liked to read as a kid or like my kids to read. You know, it’s very very straight forward and people like to read it. If what was fashionable now was police procedurals, I’d still be writing the same stuff I write.
NU107: Or superhero comics. As you said, you have a hard time writing that sort of thing.
Neil: I’m rubbish at superheroes. I always cheat. I can, I can sort of, with Black Orchid, maybe I can do science-fiction and make it look like superheroes. And with Sandman maybe I can do cool, mythic horror weird stuff and make it look like superheroes. You know, with 1602, okay maybe I can do historical fiction and do a bit of superheroes.
NU107: Okay, there you go. A lot of people texted in they just want to say that you’ve changed their lives and they’re very very happy and some of them went to your book signing and just want to say thank you for being just the nicest guy.
Neil: That was so sweet. I sat on this morning and I probably had a hundred messages from people who’ve been to my book signing and all of them are the same. There were these lovely long messages saying when I got to the front of the line, I didn’t say. And then what they wanted to say when they got to the front of the line instead of breaking down into tears or squeaking can I marry you or whatever.
NU107: Thank you Mr. Neil Gaiman. Somebody texted and asking who are you interviewing? Are you interviewing David Bowie? For those who’ve just tuned in, we’re interviewing Neil Gaiman, not David Bowie.
NU107: Who has a signing yet this afternoon.
Neil: The Neil Gaiman signing, not the David Bowie signing.
NU107: Where’s the signing?
NU107: Fully Booked, Gateway. What time? 4:30, be there at the activity center right?
NU107: With three hundred people lined up.
NU107: Okay, don’t go.
NU107: Do go, but admire from afar, and buy the books, share the love. Send your psychic messages. Mirrormask the big hard bound, it just came out, Anansi Boys coming out in September. And you can get the whole Sandman library at Fully Booked. And Neverwhere.
NU107: Thank you to Jaime Daez and Gabby Delarama and Christian Sisima of NU who made this possible.
NU107: So what’s your last song sir?
Neil: I’ve been thinking about it. I think I was gonna play Horses but I think by Tori because that was the saddest song but I thought actually, another song because it’s completely inappropriate in every way. Papa was a Rodeo by the Magnetic Fields.
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