"What say, cowboy?"
I've recently been doing a lot of something that has a tendency to go by the wayside from time to time: reading. Turns out it's actually quite enjoyable when it doesn't make you almost cry on the train ride in to work, as the end of Cormac McCarthy's Cities of the Plain did to me this morning.
It's also making me talk like a cowboy in my daily life, but that's neither hither nor thither.
Reading a stack of books by one (good) author also helps you draw connections between the stories and characters that spreads into your other forms of narrative entertainment, like movies and hip-hop.
McCarthy for instance in a sense keeps writing the same story over and over and over, mixing up the characters and their roles within the structure, changing time periods and locations; but always keeping the narrative structure, themes, and morals essentially the same. You can tell you're reading McCarthy when somebody does something obviously incredibly stupid or inexplicable that then sets in motion an ultimately fatal and tragic chain of events that is as horrifying and brutal as it is unstoppable.
Similarly, you can tell you're watching a Wes Anderson movie if somebody has a thoroughly non-functional relationship with their father... and the things that looked hilarious in the trailer turn out to be depressing or embarrassing in the film. Think Gene Hackman shouting "Right on!" at Danny Glover in The Royal Tenenbaums.
Wes Anderson's films also take on new meaning and power upon subsequent viewings. I'm looking forward to taking out The Border Trilogy in a few years and re-reading it again for the first time. I don't think I can get through Blood Meridian again though, that was effing brutal.
It's also making me talk like a cowboy in my daily life, but that's neither hither nor thither.
Reading a stack of books by one (good) author also helps you draw connections between the stories and characters that spreads into your other forms of narrative entertainment, like movies and hip-hop.
McCarthy for instance in a sense keeps writing the same story over and over and over, mixing up the characters and their roles within the structure, changing time periods and locations; but always keeping the narrative structure, themes, and morals essentially the same. You can tell you're reading McCarthy when somebody does something obviously incredibly stupid or inexplicable that then sets in motion an ultimately fatal and tragic chain of events that is as horrifying and brutal as it is unstoppable.
Similarly, you can tell you're watching a Wes Anderson movie if somebody has a thoroughly non-functional relationship with their father... and the things that looked hilarious in the trailer turn out to be depressing or embarrassing in the film. Think Gene Hackman shouting "Right on!" at Danny Glover in The Royal Tenenbaums.
Wes Anderson's films also take on new meaning and power upon subsequent viewings. I'm looking forward to taking out The Border Trilogy in a few years and re-reading it again for the first time. I don't think I can get through Blood Meridian again though, that was effing brutal.
Speaking of good storytelling, Pushing Daisies is back on TV, and though at first I wasn't sure if I'd care anymore, after watching the season premiere I can't wait to watch more. Though the opener was a bit long on exposition and lackluster on plot, the return to this strange and magical alternate-reality reminded me why I feel in love with the show's style and characters in the first place. Hopefully things pick up as the season progresses.
So to wrap up, three examples of stellar storytelling from three mediums you must experience: All The Pretty Horses (Cities of the Plain is the last in this trilogy, Pretty Horses is the first, so start there), The Royal Tenenbaums (for best results watch once, forget for a year, then watch again), and Pushing Daisies.
Posted on Thursday, October 16, 2008
by
Jimmy Scotch
in drew lanning
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Jimmy Scotch
in drew lanning
|
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