Jane by April Lindner

"So. Passing as a sex symbol. Can I?"

I weighed my words carefully. "You might not be movie-star handsome," I said finally, "but you're good-looking for a rock star."

Mr. Rathburn's eyes widened. "That's three times you've hurt my feelings in one conversation," he said a bit gruffly.

-Jane

Spoilers for Jane Eyre (& thus Jane) ahead.

Retellings of classic novels have become so popular that it's almost surprising that it took this long to get a modern take on Jane Eyre. April Lindner admits in her author's note for Jane that there were some challenges in imagining the story in our times; it doesn't  lend itself to the modern day quite as easily as something like Pride and Prejudice, for instance. Lindner figured out a way around these problems, though, and by and large I think she wrote a successful adaptation.

In Lindner's story, Jane Moore applies for a position as a nanny after her parents die in a car accident, leaving her financially destitute and forced to drop out of college. The agency finds that her complete lack of pop culture savvy makes her the perfect candidate for one of their plum positions: nanny to reclusive rock star Nico Rathburn*. She accepts, then pours over old tabloid stories to learn about her new employer. Rathburn is a legendary musician with a notorious history of drug use and womanizing, including an ill-fated marriage to a drug-addicted model. She's a bit taken aback, but nonetheless soon finds herself at his secluded estate outside of New York City, wondering if she's made the right choice.

Lindner hits many of the same beats that Jane Eyre does: the roadside run-in with her  boss (far less plausible here, though she does try to explain her lack of recognition of this man whom she's seen in dozens of pictures), the "Do you think me handsome, Jane?" bit (the excerpt above), the guests coming to Thornfield, etc. I enjoyed seeing the parallels.

 I found Lindner's handling of Rathburn's secret to be among the most interesting parts of the adaptation. In some ways, the news should come as less of a surprise to Jane Moore than it did to Jane Eyre: JM knows a lot more about her employer's past than JE ever did, which is one reason why the rock star twist on Rochester didn't quite work for me. JM knew Rathburn was once married, at least. It's been a while since I read Jane Eyre, but I don't think JE finds that out that until the whole crazy story comes out. Still, you don't expect to find people holed up in attics nowadays any more than you did in Charlotte Bronte's time. JM's reaction is, unsurprisingly, similar to JE's, and though it does seem extreme, she does eventually come to realize that she didn't handle it terribly well.

I enjoyed Jane Moore as a character, but oddly I didn't care much for Nico Rathburn. I love Rochester**, so perhaps it was inevitable that his modern update would seem like a pale imitation. On the other hand, I enjoy both Jane Austen's Mr. Darcy and Helen Fielding's Mark Darcy, so I don't think that's exactly it. Part of what made Rochester so interesting was that he had a hidden dark part. He alluded to it when talking with Jane, and even confessed to some parts of it. However, it wasn't like Jane could look him up on Wikipedia or something to get more information. Nico Rathburn, despite the fact that he's supposed to have been out of the media spotlight for some time, is just not mysterious enough. Also, he's a middle-aged guy with earrings, which, let's face it, is a hard look to pull off, even for a rock star.

Even with those reservations about Mr. Rathburn, though, I sped through Jane in a day. I couldn't really see reading it again, but it was pretty enjoyable. It didn't quite pack the punch of Jane Eyre, though; it definitely lacks that dark, Gothic tone that makes Jane Eyre so captivating. I'm interested in rereading some of those classics with a weird bent (The Turn of the Screw, Rebecca), and maybe I'll add Jane Eyre to the list--or at least make sure I see the upcoming film adaptation, which looks great.

Up next: The Night Villa by Carol Goodman, set in my new hometown of Austin and my beloved Italy, which bodes well. 

*I just can't with that name. When I was in middle school, I had a book called Building Believable Characters. In that book, the author mentions the importance of matching a character's first and last names (and then provided long lists of names by ethnic heritage, which was probably my main motivation in buying the book. I'm fascinated by names.). Nico is a great first name for a rock star: kind of quirky, kind of edgy. Rathburn sounds super posh (it makes me think of Basil Rathbone, for one) and, while it works well as a name that sort of evokes Rochester without being Rochester, it clashes horribly with Nico to my ears. Just so fake sounding, you know? Anyway. End tangent.

**When I was in high school, my friends and I used to go blazer bowling on a semi-regular basis. I found a favorite ball at the lanes, a pinkish one with a slight lump on it. Being a weird sort (surprising, I know), I named the ball Hurricane Rochester. (Hurricane was the brand of the ball). True, super dorky story.

Ghost Hunters by Deborah Blum

 "I confess that at times I have been tempted to believe that the Creator has eternally intended this department of nature to remain baffling, to prompt our curiosities and hopes and suspicions, all in equal measure, so that, although ghosts and clairvoyances, and raps and messages from spirits, are always seeming to exist and can never be fully explained away, they also can never be susceptible of full corroboration."

-William James, Ghost Hunters

As a child I, like many other children, was equally fascinated and terrified by tales of the supernatural. I'd ask my mom to buy the 99-cent collections of ghost stories sold in our grocery store's checkout line. I visited New Orleans and bought a book of bayou-centric ghost stories (I can still remember the pale pink cover), but at some point decided it was ill-advised to sleep in the same room with it. I believed, in one way or another, in just about everything: ghosts, UFOs, the Bermuda Triangle, the Anna Anderson story, etc.

I grew more skeptical as I got older, but, I have to say, I still enjoy learning about things that can't be explained easily. Last Halloween, I discovered Travel Channel's Ghost Adventures, and was immediately taken with the show's mix of goofy charm, bravado, and a dash of the unexplained. When I stumbled upon Deborah Blum's Ghost Hunters: William James and the Search for Scientific Proof for Life After Death, I thought it might be an interesting complement to my recent viewing.

I must say, I'm not overly fond of scientific explanations of paranormal things, however logical they may be. I feel like they suck the fun out of things, to be honest. What I found interesting about the premise of Blum's book was that William James and his fellow scientists experienced things in the course of what they called their psychical research that they could not explain. James is remembered now as the father of psychology, and some of his colleagues would go on to win Nobel Prizes or be awarded knighthoods. These were very upright, very scientifically-minded men, in other words--not the type who would be taken in without good evidence.

The research of these men coincided with the height of the Spiritualism movement. Mediums were springing up all over the place in the United States (where James lived) as well as Europe (home to many of his fellow researchers). The scientific establishment had, on the whole, rejected even research into psychical phenomena as worthless. Nevertheless, these men--James, Henry Sidgwick, Fred Myers, and Edmund Gurney, among many others--were each drawn in for their own reasons. The latter three were among the scientists that formed the Society for Psychical Research in London in 1882, an organization that still exists today. Through the SPR they explored many aspects of paranormal activity, though Blum especially focuses on their efforts to document the phenomenon of the "crisis apparition" (the vision of a loved one at the time of his death) and to explore the capabilities of mediums.

They were able to debunk many instances of apparent psychical phenomena that they witnessed--and yet not everything.  Their investigations seriously jeopardized their reputations as legitimate scientists, but they could not dismiss what they'd seen. James was among those who was fascinated by the American medium Leonora Piper, whose abilities, although inconsistent, had produced some very compelling evidence for either telepathy (a term coined by an SPR member) or life after death. Late in the book, Blum recounts a story of cross-correspondence--that is, different mediums in different parts of the world getting similar specific messages alleged to be from the same spirits--that certainly left me puzzled. James and his fellow researchers were often left in the state of uncertainty that he describes in the passage I excerpted above. In a time when science was constantly uncovering new things, is it any wonder that these men thought they might be on the verge of a similar breakthrough? That the concrete evidence they sought seemed to always be just beyond their grasp must have been hugely frustrating, yet it motivated them ever onward.

 Blum packs a lot of information into her book, as you can probably tell from my blathering. I won't lie: with the exception of James, whom I was already familiar with, and Richard Hodgson, who for whatever reason made a big enough impression, I found it rather difficult to keep all of the scientists straight. It wasn't quite as lively a read as I might have hoped--not really a pageturner, that is--but it certainly gave me some interesting insight into an era I confess I'm less acquainted with than perhaps I should be. I admire the passion and the commitment of these researchers to the cause they believed in, and I appreciate that, even though they never proved their case, their work certainly left even the modern reader with some things to think about.*

Up next: I really have a wealth of books to choose from right now. I'm going to go with Jane, a modern update of Jane Eyre.

*Although this is only tangentially related to the research angle, I can't help but think about the famous Fox sisters. As teenagers, they became some of the best-known mediums in the early days of the Spiritualism movement, claiming to communicate with the spirit of a peddler who'd been killed in their home years before they had moved there. The sisters fell on hard times in their later years and one confessed it had all been a hoax, though she later recanted the confession. Several years after their deaths, a skeleton was found entombed in their cellar. Now, say what you will about their abilities, but that's a bit odd, don't you think?

In Medias Res: Ghost Hunters

So I was reading Ghost Hunters, which I'm enjoying so far, when I stumbled upon this passage concerning a trip the psychologist William James took to see his brother Henry, the novelist, in England:

William relaxed into the visit. He spent afternoons in conversation at his brother's clubs, surrounded by an aromatic fog of tobacco smoke. He made occasional calls on scientists. He walked the sooty streets, enjoying Henry's company. Then he found himself suddenly alone. Back in America, Henry James Sr. was dying. Their mother had died of bronchitis earlier that year, and their sister, faced with this second impending death, felt overwhelmed. She asked Henry Jr. to come home.

William--the more high-maintenance brother--was to stay in England. "All insist William shall not come," his sister telegraphed. William debated returning home anyway, despite his nervous state, but had to admit he probably wouldn't be an ideal deathbed companion.

Interesting family dynamic they had going there.

Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.

-Mockingjay 

I knew I was going to read Mockingjay fast. It's no surprise, really, given how quickly I read the other two books in the trilogy. But really I knew I couldn't linger over Mockingjay because it's the last part of a dystopian story, and past experience has taught that Suzanne Collins doesn't pull punches. I knew Bad Things were going to happen.

And they do, of course. Terrible, unbearable things, because that's what happens when you're at war. And Katniss Everdeen, newly whisked away to the underground bunkers of District 13, has undoubtedly found herself in the middle of one. The Hunger Games are over, and yet they continue, as Katniss realizes: it's just that now they're all players. Everyone from her sister, finding her place as a much-needed healer, to Gale, who's becoming slightly too good at planning death. From Haymitch, who Katniss can't help but reluctantly trust, to President Coin, newly introduced as the calculating leader of 13. There they all are in 13, ready to rally behind Katniss, the face of the rebellion. Their mockingjay.

It's not easy for Katniss to step up and do what the others ask of her. There's already been so much devastation, and Katniss is left reeling. Mentally disoriented, as the plastic bracelet on her wrist says. She'd rather curl up in an out-of-the-way supply closet than get made up for propaganda videos. But she can't hide away forever. Plus there's Peeta to consider.

I don't think I realized until this book just how much I liked Peeta. Poor Peeta, left behind in the Arena when Katniss was rescued by District 13. Left to the devices of President Snow. Poor, poor Peeta. Katniss can't just hide away and hope for the best when it comes to him. Their relationship has never been easy, often simply because Katniss is just not good with people, but Mockingjay complicates things even further. I found it one of the most compelling parts of the book, and, without revealing too much, I must say whichever actor ends up playing Peeta in the upcoming films certainly has his work cut out for him.

 So yes, it was a hard book, but it wrapped up the trilogy very well. I'm glad I got over my initial reservations about reading The Hunger Games, as the stories have provided me with both entertainment and the opportunity for some reflection. I'm very eager to see what will come of the films, as there is an opportunity to make some excellent ones here. Casting, of course, is crucial, especially for Katniss, who remains the best young heroine I know of in contemporary literature at the moment. I'm getting a kick out of reading speculation on the subject, and I'm hoping for good things. It would be a shame to do disservice to these books.

Up next: I've definitely been too long without a non-fiction book. Just started Ghost Hunters, by Deborah Blum, about the rise of the Spiritualism movement in the 19th century.

Dracula by Bram Stoker

To-day Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey are looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to have horses always in readiness, for when we get the information which we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilise all the imported earth between sunrise and sunset; we shall thus catch the Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on ancient medicine. The old physicians took account of things which their followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cures which may be useful to us later.

I sometimes think we must all be mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

-Dracula 

 So, as you may have heard, vampires are pretty popular right now. Charismatic, pale, brooding sorts who can't seem to help loving those human women. They're conflicted about these relationships. They have A History, you see (often a very long one). Sometimes when they go out into the sun, they burn. And sometimes they sparkle.

Dracula, I hate to break it to you, is not one of those sexy, tortured vamps. He has a unibrow. Hair grows on his palms. He reeks. He's kind of gross, you guys.

No matter! Dracula remains a compelling read, even 100-plus years after its initial publication. This marks the third time I've read it, though the last time was in high school, I imagine--I only remembered bits and pieces. I was spurred on to reread by having recently seen the 1992 film adaptation, which seemed quite different from what I did remember. Guess what, I was right.

In the book, intrepid young law clerk Jonathan Harker ventures to Transylvania to help close a real estate deal with the mysterious Count Dracula. Things go from bad (Wolves. Lots of wolves.) to worse (The count slithering down the side of his castle, for one, which just doesn't bode well at all). As Jonathan fights to escape, we also meet some of the people he's left behind: his fiancee, Mina Murray, for one; Mina's friend Lucy Westernra, and Lucy's three suitors, which include Dr. John Seward, head of a local asylum. Mina is concerned over Jonathan's continued absence; Lucy puzzles over her own sleepwalking; and Dr. Seward recounts his interactions with patient Renfield, who has a theory about absorbing life from insects. Their story is told through their diary entries, which begin to weave together into the story of the damage wrought by a very old monster. He starts so small, this monster. Just those two, tiny ragged holes on Lucy's neck...

I'll admit, it can be frustrating as a modern reader that the gang doesn't catch on to things a little more quickly. We're so well-versed in vampire lore today--even a child knows about the holes in the neck, the stake and the garlic--that you really have to step back and try to imagine what it would be like to hear about vampires for the first time--in a situation in which you are actually dealing with one, no less, not just listening to old folk tales.  Even with the narrative bumpiness that can result from their ignorance, Dracula remains a creepy, engaging story. It's also incredibly cinematic, which makes the lack of a faithful film adaptation all the more frustrating. Heck, sexy Dracula up a bit, sharpen Mina's character to make her a slightly anachronistic badass--I'd be fine with that. Just don't, say, paint Dracula as an epic love story between the titular vampire and Mina, the seeming reincarnation of his true love from many centuries earlier. I mean, wha? (Francis Ford Coppola's ears are burning, I reckon.) I hold out hope that one day someone will see the dramatic potential of this story on its own, without ridiculous romantic embellishments. Until then, the book can stand for itself. 

Up next: Had Mockingjay. Read Mockingjay. Will review Mockingjay forthwith. 

The Pyramid by Henning Mankell

In the beginning, everything was just a fog.

Or perhaps it was like a thick-flowing sea where all was white and silent. The landscape of death. It was also the first thought that came to Kurt Wallander as he slowly began rising back to the surface. That he was already dead. He had reached twenty-one years of age, no more. A young policeman, barely an adult. And then a stranger had rushed up to him with a knife and he had not had time to throw himself out of harm's way.

Afterward there was only the white fog. And the silence. 

-The Pyramid 

When readers first met Kurt Wallander in Faceless Killers, he was already middle-aged and divorced, well on his way to becoming the sad sack that we know and love. Glimpses of his past have always been interesting, but few and far between. With The Pyramid, a collection of short stories by Henning Mankell, we finally get a better look at how Wallander became the detective and the man that he is.

In the first story, which I excerpted above, Wallander is still a beat cop in the very early stages of honing his instincts when he stumbles upon his first homicide investigation. By the last, he's within a month of embarking upon the Faceless Killers case. Needless to say, there's a lot that goes on in the meantime. As a pretty big fan of the series, I found it utterly absorbing to watch the way he grew, both as a person and as a detective. He makes mistakes--big mistakes, potentially fatal mistakes--and both learns and doesn't learn from them. I think that by reading these stories, I really began to appreciate the continuity in Mankell's work. Both Wallander's flaws and strengths were apparent pretty early on, and it's neat to see the way Mankell returns to and builds upon them, especially given what we already know of Wallander from the novels. I am more eager than ever to read the novels that I've missed so far.

I particularly found the evolution of Wallander's relationship with his father fascinating. In seeing the progression of his father's dementia from Wallander's point of view, we share his anger and frustration, but also his fears. This is captured especially well in the title story, in which Wallander's father fulfills the dream of a lifetime in going to Egypt, which has unexpected ramifications in Wallander's life as well as in the development of his case. I think I will be more tuned in to their relationship as I continue to read the series based on what I now know of their history. 

Interestingly, despite the fact that the events in this book proceed all other Wallander stories chronologically, I think it is best enjoyed after having at least one of the novels. This is not meant to be an introduction to the character; it's more of a reflection, with themes that will most resonate with readers who are already familiar with the series. I do think Mankell perhaps went a little heavy on emphasizing the Swedish anxiety theme--which he also makes a note about in the forward--but I can't actually disagree with him as to its importance to the character and the series. I could have probably done with one fewer pointed aside from Wallander or another character on the subject, though. That having been said, I enjoyed this book thoroughly and accordingly raced through it pretty darn fast. I have a lot of books in the lineup now, but surely another Wallander book will have to pop up in the near future.

Up next: Finally tracked down Dracula, which has been an interesting reread so far.

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible. Strategically placed almost midway between the annual Games, it is the Capitol's way of keeping the horror fresh and immediate. Not only are we in the districts forced to remember the iron grip of the Capitol's power each year, we are forced to celebrate it. And this year, I am one of the stars of the show. I will have to travel from district to district, to stand before the cheering crowds who secretly loathe me, to look down into the faces of the families whose children I have killed...

-Catching Fire

Remembering how well The Hunger Games served me on my trip over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was delighted when  Catching Fire came off the library's hold list just in time for my most recent travels. And the book lived up to my expectations perfectly--to the extent that I raced through the whole thing in just a few hours.

When we left Katniss Everdeen at the end of The Hunger Games, things were really going as well as she could have imagined. Placed in a terrible situation, Katniss outmaneuvered the Gamemakers and saved both herself and fellow tribute Peeta Mellark. She had no idea what ramifications her victory would have.

On the eve of her Victory Tour (as described above), Katniss learns that unrest has been brewing in some districts of Panem. The decidedly evil President Snow is furious with Katniss, as her act of defiance in the arena is perceived as the root cause of the recent troubles.  He threatens her in no uncertain terms: if she doesn't stay in line on the Victory Tour, she's putting her life and the lives of her family and friends at risk. It's a sobering reminder for Katniss of how, even as a victor, she will never be able to put the Games behind her.

In Catching Fire, Katniss not only grapples with how to survive in the increasingly draconian District 12; she also struggles with her relationships with Peeta and Gale and starts to understand just how necessary the rebellion she inadvertently touched off may be. There's also the Quarter Quell, about which I won't say a word. Part of the reason Suzanne Collins's writing is so engaging is that she is able to surprise the reader. There are definitely times when the reader is ahead of Katniss, of course--even after President Snow's visit, she is slow to realize just how much impact she had during the Hunger Games, for instance. Katniss is an amazing heroine, though--brave and resourceful, not to mention still quite adept with a bow and arrow. She's not always so quick to understand people, but it would be pretty boring if she could do everything. Besides, she's a teenage girl growing up in a world in which she has been left ignorant of what we would consider common knowledge (she's vaguely familiar with the concept of a jungle, for instance). I'll cut her some slack.

Catching Fire ends on a helluva cliffhanger, so I am eager to read the third book of the trilogy, Mockingjay.  I've become invested in so many of the characters--besides Peeta and Kaniss, of course, I'm intrigued to see what lies in store for the complex Haymitch, kindly Madge, and even new characters like Finnick. If Collins can keep up the same level of quality she's maintained throughout the first two books (fingers crossed!), it's bound to be quite a ride.

Up next: I've been looking all over my house for Dracula, as I recently watched the 1992 film adaptation and wanted to see just how far astray it wandered. If it's nowhere to be found, I have a book of Wallander short stories that wants reading, for sure.

Tales of the City by Armistead Maupin

The Halcyon-Day courtship had been whirlwind. DeDe and Beauchamp were married in June 1973 on the sunlit slopes of Halcyon Hill, the bride's family estate in Hillsborough. At her own insistence, the bride was barefoot. She wore a peasant dress by Adolfo of Saks Fifth Avenue. Her maid of honor and Bennington roommate, Muffy van Wyck, recited selections from Kahlil Gibran, while a string quartet played the theme from Elvira Madigan.

After the wedding, the bride's mother, Frannie Halcyon, told reporters: "We're so proud of our DeDe. She's always been such an individualist."

-Tales of the City

(I don't know about you, but now I'm picturing Frannie Halcyon as Helen Morgendorffer from Daria.)

In Tales of the City, author Armistead Maupin weaves together the lives of a number of quirky characters living in San Francisco in the 1970s. Central to this cast is Mary Ann Singleton, a naive Cleveland transplant who is bowled over by the more colorful aspects of life in her new home. She finds an apartment at 28 Barbary Lane, where she meets hippie landlady Anna Madrigal (she thoughtfully leaves a joint for each new tenant), strong-willed Mona, playboy Brian, and flamboyant Michael. Each in turn has his or her own coworkers, friends, and lovers, and gradually their lives begin to intersect in many different ways.

Tales of the City is often light and soapy, and also pretty darn enjoyable. Maupin has divided the book into many short chapters, making it easy for the reader to get sucked into reading just a few more pages...then a few more after that. There's enough suspense to keep the reader invested as well—one character's mysterious past, another's affair, another's shadowy motives, etc. None of the characters is particularly multidimensional, but they're mostly likable all the same. It's no wonder that Maupin's written a series to follow Tales of the City; it seems like almost all of these characters still have plenty of story in them. They certainly haven't worn out their welcomes yet. 

I'm not sure that I'm ready to get invested in the series quite yet, but I enjoyed Tales of the City enough that I could see picking up the next book in the future. It's perfect for when you're in the mood for something fun and frothy--brilliant beach reading, I'd imagine.

Up next: Finished Catching Fire in a day, so I suppose I will be back to review that soon!

Adventures in the Screen Trade by William Goldman

The Woodward-Bernstein book became a famous and successful film. I saw it at my local neighborhood theatre and it seemed very much to resemble what I'd done; of course there were changes but there are always changes. There was a lot of ad-libbing, scenes were placed in different locations, that kind of thing. But the structure of the piece remained unchanged. And it also seemed, with what objectivity I could bring to it, to be well directed and acted, especially by the stars. It won a bunch of Oscars and numberless other awards besides.

And if you were to ask me "What would you change if you had your movie life to live over?" I'd tell you that I'd have written exactly the screenplays I've written.

Only I wouldn't have come near All the President's Men....

-Adventures in the Screen Trade

William Goldman is the writer behind two movies that I love, The Princess Bride and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. If he'd never done anything else, that would be a pretty amazing legacy to leave behind. But Goldman has logged plenty of time behind the scenes in Hollywood. In Adventures in the Screen Trade, he pulls back the curtain and shows the reader how movies get made.

Adventures in the Screen Trade is divided into several parts. First Goldman offers his perspective on different players on the scene (agents, producers, etc.) and what they actually do. He also dives into the process of working on each of the films he's been involved with*, even if his screenplay ended up not being used. Some editions apparently contain the entire screenplay of Butch Cassidy with Goldman's commentary--mine did not. Either that or I somehow managed to forget reading an entire screenplay, which seems...unlikely, don't you think? Anyway, Goldman concludes the book with an inside look at the process of writing a screenplay; he provides a short story of his own, his proposed screen adaptation, and comments from various production people (cinematographer, composer, etc.) on how they would handle it. It's really quite fascinating.

Goldman is an incredibly lively storyteller, as you might imagine if you've seen any of his films. I particularly enjoyed some of his opinions on how different actors worked. He clearly loved Paul Newman, who comes across as someone entirely uninterested in the politics of being a movie star**. Robert Redford does not come off quite as well—professional and talented, to be sure, but decidedly more invested in his movie star image, especially once his career takes off post-Butch Cassidy.  Goldman's not just in it to dish, but he doesn't pull punches either: a story about Laurence Olivier and Dustin Hoffman on the set of Marathon Man left me wincing.

As someone who is interested in film, I found Adventures in the Screen Trade to be pretty absorbing at points, particularly as Goldman got into his experience with individual films (you might have guessed from the excerpt above that All The President's Men was especially dramatic).  I imagine this would be an invaluable source for someone interested in pursuing screenwriting, particularly the last section. (I especially loved the way director George Roy Hill tore apart the screenplay. He did not mince words. Wow.) I've never read anything that explained filmmaking in such a way. It reminds me of when I took a film class in college and for the first time really began to appreciate the technical elements of film, not just the acting and the story.

Also, it really made me want to watch Butch Cassidy again, and that can't be a bad thing.

Up next: Tales of the City, for real this time.

*Current as of the writing of this book. The sequel, Which Lie Did I Tell? covers his later work. For whatever reason, I read that one first, years ago, and I remember enjoying it thoroughly.

**I love Paul Newman as well, so I was happy to read this. Also excited to add Harper to my Netflix queue, as it sounded quite interesting based on what Goldman described.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Taking the kids from our districts, forcing them to kill one another while we watch — this is the Capitol's way of reminding us how totally we are at their mercy. How little chance we would stand of surviving another rebellion. Whatever words they use, the real message is clear. "Look how we take your children and sacrifice them and there's nothing you can do. If you lift a finger, we will destroy every last one of you. Just as we did in District Thirteen."

To make it humiliating as well as torturous, the Capitol requires us to treat the Hunger Games as a festivity, a sporting event pitting every district against the others. The last tribute alive receives a life of ease back home, and their district will be showered with prizes, largely consisting of food. All year, the Capitol will show the winning district gifts of grain and oil and even delicacies like sugar while the rest of us battle starvation.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," intones the mayor.

-The Hunger Games

First, a programming note: I hadn't intended to step away from this blog for so long. I gave up on the collection of mystery short stories because they proved to be too hard-boiled for my taste. The next book I picked up, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, also proved to be slow going. While batting out on the reading front, I was also working on my own NaNoWriMo project, which meant my free time was devoted to writing, not reading. All in all, not a combination that encourages posts here.

Luckily, I had The Hunger Games in tow as I traveled last week.For the first time in weeks, I had a page-turner in front of me instead of a slow slog. It was a breath of fresh air.

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins, is set some time in the future, when the country has been divided into twelve districts (there were thirteen—see the excerpt), under the totalitarian rule of the Capitol. The exact circumstances that took North America to Panem, as it is now known, are unclear, though both natural disasters and war are mentioned. We see Panem through the eyes of Katniss Everdeen, a sixteen-year-old girl living in District 12. Katniss has seen enough poverty and despair to be wary of the government, though she is too smart to say anything aloud. In District 12, you never know who might be listening.

Katniss, an able huntress, has provided for her family since the death of her father in a mining accident some years earlier. Technically hunting is illegal, but even officials are willing to turn a blind eye to the activities of Katniss and her partner Gale in exchange for some much-needed meat. Daily living is a struggle, but Katniss is a survivor.

Then comes the annual drawing for the Hunger Games. Each district picks two representatives between the ages of 12 and 18. These 24 tributes will be brought together to the Capitol in order to fight to the death. Katniss braces herself to hear her name, but she never expected the name that is actually called: Primrose Everdeen, her younger sister.

Katniss volunteers to take her sister's place and soon she, along with fellow District 12 tribute Peeta Mellark, are whisked away to the Capitol. What they encounter there is a strange mix of vulgar overindulgence (the rich foods, the elaborate costumes) and what soon becomes a bitter fight for survival. Along the way, Katniss tries to make sense of the people around her. Aside from Peeta, whose motivations Katniss cannot fathom, there's her drunken mentor Haymitch, the only living Hunger Games winner from District 12; her perceptive costumer, Cinna; and the many other tributes, including the sprightly Rue and the bellicose Cato.

Honestly, when I first heard about The Hunger Games, I didn't think it was for me. The "fight to the death" angle seemed much too bleak for me to get any enjoyment from it. However, I kept hearing good things, and I'm so glad I read it. Katniss is about the best heroine for an adventure story you can imagine, and Suzanne Collins keeps things going at a brisk pace. I could have easily finished the book in one day, but I didn't want to be stranded without any reading material. I just put sequel Catching Fire on hold at the library. I anticipate it's going to be a long wait, but I'm very excited to keep reading about this world.

Up next: Good question! I have a few magazines laying around. Maybe Tales of the City?