Saturday, September 22, 2012

A Game of Thrones/A Clash of Kings - George R.R. Martin



I recently read A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings. I know I’m a little late to the party on this one, but I wanted to read the books before I watched the TV show, and people keep telling me to watch the TV show. My only message to all-them is to read the books. They’re amazing.

George R.R. Martin wrote A Game of Thrones is 1996 where it was instantly showered with awards. It won the Locus Award, the World Fantasy Award, was nominated for the Nebula Award, and parts of it won the Hugo Award for best novella. Let me just say that my top 10 favorite books have all won the Hugo and Nebula, or have at least been nominated. It basically guarantees that the book is going to be fantastic. The reason I’m telling you about all of Martin’s awards is because I’m surprised his books were so removed from the public’s radar. Martin is finally getting the recognition he deserves, and I’m sure it has everything to do with the TV show. It’s good to know the old boob tube is good for something.

A lot of people compare Martin to Tolkien. I understand the desire; it is very high praise for Martin. But, to me it seems a lot like saying apples and oranges are similar because they’re fruit and round. The only thing similar about Martin and Tolkien is that they write fantastic fantasy. If there were more supremely talented fantasy writers than Tolkien and Martin wouldn’t seem so similar.

Aside from the fact that their style is very different, I always thought Tolkien was more of a storyteller and Martin more of a character developer. Tolkien’s books are all about the story; they’re about the universe he’s created, the past, the present, even the future. Martin takes character development to the extreme. The most obvious indicator is that the books are written from about nine different points of view at any one time. Additionally, each character is very different. He writes a 10-year-old noble girl as well as he writes a 50 year old ex smuggler with two sons. Somehow he manages to represent the soul of each character in a remarkably believable and subtle way. I’m not sure how he does it, I can’t think of another author who does it as well.

A big theme in A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings is the competing ides of honor, bravery and strength. The fact that the books are written from so many different points of view means that Martin is going to have a chance to represent the ideals of all those characters. In this universe (kind of like our medieval ages) honor is a very big deal. I’m very intrigued how each character represents their idea of what it means in be brave and honorable. For Arya strength means having the power to kill or elude people. She felt like a mouse when she was trapped as a servant, but once she was able to choose three people to kill she felt strong. Her sister Sansa, on the other hand, felt like honor and bravery meant remembering her courtesies even when times got tough. The castle was under siege, she was terrified, and still she was able to say something polite to the Hound, even though she feared and disliked him. Tyrion found his strength in being smarter than other people and controlling them through that knowledge. Cersei used sex to control people, and valued beauty, wealth and political power.

            Another big theme in the books was the duty required to family. Tyrion Lannister would cover up any crime and support any folly of his family for the simple reason that they were family and that’s what you did. Yet he let his contempt for his family be very pain, and didn’t feel the smallest bit of love for them (with the exception of Jaime). Bran Stark, on the other hand, took enormous pride in being a Stark and believed he was held to a higher standard of behavior because of his station. He loved his family and missed them greatly when he was parted from them. It’s all these different ideals that make A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings.

One of the most interesting things about George R.R. Martin’s books is the character he chooses to focus on. He writes from the point of view of character who seem like they should almost be supporting characters instead of main characters. For example, instead of writing from Jamie or Tywin’s point of view he chose Tyroin. Tyroin is by far the most interesting and awesome of the Lannisters, but he is not the obvious main character. Another example is choosing to write from Bran’s point of view instead of Rob the heir. Another example, to a lesser extent, is writing from Ned Stark instead of Robert Baratheon. Martin very cleverly tells the story from the point of view from people who are very interesting rather than the main characters. We actually get a better view of the events because they are being told by less biased characters. If the story was told from Jaime’s point of view, for example, we would think Cersei Lannister was pretty great (or at least really hot) instead of the wack-a-doodle that she is.

The take-a-way message from this long rambling post is that you should read the books. They’re awesome. 

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky



Crime and Punishment takes it’s self very seriously. It is not an undertaking to be embarked upon lightly. That being said, I did enjoy the change of pace. This is a book I was supposed to read in high school. Needless to say, that pretty much means that it was totally new to me.

Crime and Punishment was a 500-page comment on the effects of social alienation and poverty. What extent can you excuse a person’s actions because they were “pushed too far” or “couldn’t control themselves?” This theme is mostly seen in Raskolnikov, the main character and “protagonist.” Raskolnikov is a former student who has fallen on hard times. For no evident reason, he is fixated on the idea of killing an old pawnbroker he has a slight acquaintance with. He may be motivated by money, but that doesn't seem to be his primary goal. Eventually, he surprises himself by carrying out the murder, but ends up having to kill the pawnbroker’s sister when she comes in and witnesses the crime. Raskolnikov experiences intense mood swings throughout the whole book. One moment he is elated and happy about his crime, the next he is wracked with such guilt that he sinks into deep, overwhelming depression. It’s pretty obvious that he is experiencing a mental break, which would explain the need to murder in the first place. Eventually, Raskolnikov turns himself into the police. Where he (happily) spends his remaining days in jail.

The reason Raskolnikov is such an extraordinary character is because he presents a real problem to the reader. He is a murder, a lunatic, but yet somehow we end up rooting for him. There isn’t actually anything likable about Raskolnikov, but I found myself sympathizing with him. He felt out of control, hopeless, alone. I think everyone feels like that sometimes. An interesting comment is that the name Raskolnikov is derived from the Russian word raskolnik, which means divided. Divided is a perfect way to describe Raskolnikov’s feelings and actions. 


Crime and Punishment is perhaps the first book I read that so completely switches the role of protagonist and antagonist. Raskolnikov is the protagonist and Porfiry Petrovitch the antagonist. Raskolnikov is a first-degree murderer and Porfiry is the hard working detective who wants justice. Porfiry even goes so far as to apologize for first suspecting Raskolnikov. How does Dostoyevsky so convincingly make the case for Raskolnikov? I’m not really sure. I think it’s because of the bleakness of the book. St. Petersburg is painted as such a dirty, dismal place, and Raskolnikov so destitute and depressed, that somehow unthinkable choices seem more reasonable. 

Raskolnikov’s actions can also be viewed in another way. Immediately after the murder he felt elated, and invincible. It takes a while for him to spiral down into all consuming depression. In the beginning of the novel he viewed himself as above the rules, and better than general society. It takes him a while to realize he is merely another man.  As he feels the affects of guilt, Raskolnikov realizes that he is bound by the same moral code as any other man. He can’t commit murder because he is just like everyone else, and therefore bound by the same rules. This "superman" theory is a popular interpretation of Crime and Punishment. This is the one thing I remember my teacher talking about it high school. Now I see where he was coming from.


Sonia and Raskolnikov represent interesting parallels. They are both sinners, but she sacrifices herself for her family while he sins for his own selfish (and irrational) gains. When Raskolnikov first meets Sonia he assumes that she would understand his motivations because she is living in sin as well. Surprisingly, she does react very well when he admits the murder to her. But it is not because she agrees with what he has done, but because she can find the good in everyone. This ties in the theme of poverty. Sonia is basically an angel by personality but pushed into prostitution and social alienation by poverty.

The whole novel is written in a bleak, depressing tone. I could almost feel the dirt from the streets crawling over my skin. I think Dostoyevsk’s skill as a writer kept me focuses when I would have otherwise grown board of the density of Crime and Punishment. Yet even though it is not necessarily a fun read it’s very interesting. It illustrates the gritty side of humanity all too well. 

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Brave New World - Aldous Huxley




Whenever I finish a book I usually want to talk to my dad about it. He reads a lot of the same things I do and always has something interesting to say about them. I was in the middle of marveling at how insightful Huxley was when my father looked at me and said, “I know how Huxley knew all those things.” I blinked back at him and smiled a little. I was curious. He simply said, “He’s an alien.”

If I had to choose one person who was most likely to be an alien it would definitely be Aldous Huxley. How else would he predict the horrors of genetic engineering in 1931 when DNA’s role in heredity wasn’t confirmed until 1952? How else would he have guessed that alcohol stunted fetal growth when Fetal Alcohol Syndrome wasn’t named until 1973 and was just beginning to be recognized in 1968? To put it bluntly, the man must be an alien.

But now down to business. Brave New World is work of speculative fiction set in a “utopian” society that is, in reality, more of a nightmare than a dream. It is often compared to Orwell’s 1984. However, to compare 1984 and Brave New World is like comparing a sailboat to a submarine. One floats on water and one dives below it, so they are both boats, but in reality they do opposite things. Orwell’s 1984 is terrifying because it shows how dark society can be, Brave New World is scary because it shows how damaging blissful happiness can be.

The biggest thing I took away from Brave New World is that what someone wants and what someone needs are two very different things. As an individual I want to be happy, but I need to be mentally stimulated in order to feel fulfilled. In Brave New World everyone takes soma to make them happy. This drug creates an “imbecilic happiness” that pacifies society. While soma does make people happy it also “bottles their minds.” John points out that soma makes everyone very childlike. The gratification is instantaneous and therefore meaningless. People don’t need to strive towards something bigger than themselves and so they become childlike, spoiled and ignorant.

In chapter 17, the Controller Mustapha Mond, said that nobility, heroism, war and passion were products of political instability. If you are passionate it means you have a divided allegiance to a person or thing, if you are noble it means that there is a cause you must stand up for, if you are heroic there must be something that needs rescuing. The idea is that in a perfectly balanced society human emotion is unnecessary. Everything is taken care of for you, so there is no need for your life to be interrupted or your peace to be bothered. Extreme passion can only exist if there is sadness too, so if you eliminate sadness you also eliminate the most reverent feelings as well.

I was so struck with Brave New World because it so accurately and tactfully presented a society where everyone was truly a slave to uninterrupted happiness. This was particularly meaningful to me because I consider myself a resilient and unusually happy person. I never before considered the consequences of going too far. I have always thought that the world would be a much better place if everyone could be counted on to be happy. Now I am wondering if that is really the case. The slightly disturbing truth is that out of tragedy come moments of true greatness. 

Sunday, August 26, 2012

A Note About the Literature


So it’s pretty obvious that I enjoy science fiction. I would go so far as to say it’s probably my favorite genre. It’s certainly the one I read the most. I just wanted to make it clear that this isn’t a science fiction blog. This is a blog about good books, and that’s the only criteria to be included. In the future you will see books from all different genre discussed on Findsight.

I will say, however, that there is probably correlation between science fiction and profound literature. Science fiction writing is in the perfect position to critique society while still creating a good story.  Sci-fi often casts its eyes in to the future, and therefore can easily discuss the consequences of our choices today. So I would be lying if I said that sci-fi won't be well represented in this blog.


Speaker for the Dead - Orson Scott Card



I was inspired to read Speaker for the Dead after reading Ender’s Game. Speaker is a sequel to Ender’s Game even though it is set 3000 years after the Bugger Wars. Despite the long time lapse, however, Ender is still alive. I’m not going to go into the plot summary, because I would highly suggest reading it for yourself. I will say, however, that I liked Speaker for the Dead even more than Ender’s Game, and I really, really enjoyed Ender’s Game.

A lot of the same themes we saw in Ender’s Game are continued in Speaker. At the forefront of Speaker for the Dead we are presented with the idea of intentions being more important than results. That is essentially the whole point of having Speakers for the Dead. Ender explains that, “No human being, when you understand his desires, is worthless. No one's life is nothing. Even the most evil of men and women, if you understand their hearts, had some generous act that redeems them, at least a little, from their sins.” Speakers follow the idea that to truly understand and love someone you must know their motivations and desires, for it is the desires that truly determine someone’s worth. Ender explained this by saying, “When it comes to human beings, the only type of cause that matters is final cause, the purpose. What a person had in mind. Once you understand what people really want, you can't hate them anymore. You can fear them, but you can't hate them, because you can always find the same desires in your own heart.” Ender is the perfect example of his own philosophy. He became Ender the Xenocide, the most hated person in the universe, because of the destruction of the Buggers. His intentions, however, were not to destroy the Buggers but to protect humanity. He didn’t understand that they were one in the same.

This leads us to the other great theme in Speaker for the Dead. It’s the question of humanity. What makes someone human, or ramen? This was touched on briefly in Ender’s Game, but was really expanded on in Speaker. Throughout a lot of the book Ender, and almost everyone else, was trying to discover if the Piggies were ramen (a different species that is human) or varelse (strangers from another species that are not able to communicate with us). While the Piggies were obviously capable of talking to humans, the question was more whether they were capable of understanding us on a moral and philosophical level.

            The question becomes by what criteria do you judge ramen, and if humans really have a right to do so. Demonsthenes explains this well, “The difference between raman and varelse is not in the creature judged, but in the creature judging. When we declare an alien species to be raman, it does not mean that they have passed a threshold of moral maturity. It means that we have.” By declaring another species ramen we have to acknowledge that killing them would be murder. We then face the challenge of learning to cooperate and trust them. We can no longer kill them unless we are willing to commit xenocide to do it. The action of xenocide is one that would push us farther from ramen and closer to varelse. Homo sapiens, after all, are not the standard by which humanity is judged.

            Jane further challenges the definition of ramen. She was born from the connections in the ansible, and is in a sense, a super computer.  Can you be alive and human, if you don’t need to breathe, eat, or sleep and have no physical body? Jane has feelings as poignant as any human, and thoughts more complex than any human could possibly achieve. She is human in every sense but the conventional one. However, I heard through the grapevine that the ansible is discussed more in the third book. I’m assuming that Jane reappears in that book, so I’ll save discussion of her for later. ((If you like super computers you’ll love Mike from The Moon is a Harsh Mistress.))

            In a lot of ways I feel like Speaker for the Dead was more educational and eye opening than any textbook or lecture I’ve experienced. It’s surprising that such feeling and humanity could be so eloquently expressed by a computer or a Piggie. I didn’t expect to relate to them so easily and deeply. I can say, without a doubt, that Speaker for the Dead is an important piece of literature. I only wish it was required reading in school. 

Monday, August 20, 2012

The Edible Woman - Margaret Atwood




As I became more and more listless reading The Edible Woman I realized that it was a real testament to Margaret Atwood’s skill. The foggy overtone to the whole book reminded me a lot of The Bell Jar. It took me a while to realize how similar the books are. Both are about women sinking deeper into depression as they struggle in a male dominated world. But, more importantly, the women’s decline is subtle and slow. By the time you realize what is happening you’ve already been sucked down with them.

I have since learned to treat both Plath and Atwood with a wary caution. It’s strange that I, a willful, happy, and often liberated young woman could so easily adopt the hazy and muted reality of The Edible Woman and The Bell Jar. It could be because every woman at some point will feel consumed by society. It could also be because Atwood is such a talented writer. There is no escaping the mood she sets. It’s probably a bit of both. Regardless, I have decided to give myself some time to recover before attempting another statement on women’s liberation.

I think the most intriguing part of The Edible Woman was the switch from first person in part one, to third person in part two, and then back to first person in part three. Once Marian got engaged, Atwood started narrating in third person. We come to understand that Marian herself is no longer thinking of herself as an “I” but a “she.” You see this in the way that she no longer gets offended when people say something rude or dissmissive. She stops taking an interest in her own life and becomes a passive observer. Once Marian takes control and breaks off the engagement, she starts thinking of herself as an "I".

            The food issue is something I had to give a lot of thought to before I could come to any kind of decision. I’ve heard a lot different interpretations of Marian’s inability to eat, and mine is slightly different. I interpreted it as Marian’s switch from a consumer to a consumable. After her engagement she saw herself as an object, she became something for everyone else to consume. Only when she symbolically consumed herself at the end, was she able to make the switch back to first person and become a consumer herself.  

            I also found Ainsley’s dynamic interesting. She was essentially the exact opposite of Marian, and yet somehow was remarkably similar. Ainsley would say that she was striving to fulfill her femininity while Marian was denying it. Marian got into trouble by being a passive observer in her own life. Ainsley, on the other hand, calculated and planned until it blew up in her face. I think both women were frustrated by their gender's place in society, and both longed for fulfillment. Their desires and struggles were the same; they just went about it in very different ways. You could go so far as to say that all women are faced with the same battles, and need to learn to juggle their views of themselves with the social pressures they are presented with.

            The Edible Woman is still a bit of a mystery to me. I have this strange feeling that I understand it perfectly, but that it can’t be that simple and I must be missing something. Maybe if I was getting an MA in Literature instead of an MPH in Public Health I would understand it better, somehow I doubt it. 

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Ender's Game - Orson Scott Card




As I read Ender’s Game I was struck by two main themes. These ideas seem to be the focal point of the book, and all the events and underlying topics boost these two ideas. They are as follows, and will furthermore be referred to as Focal Point One and Two:

1)   The idea that the whole is more important than the individual.
a.     Underlying that assumption is the question, “Do the ends justify the means?”
2)   Can intentions nullify results?

These ideas are played out over and over again in Ender’s Game. Focal Point One is first, and most obviously, seen in Graff and the Battle School’s treatment of Ender. Every move they make is to mold Ender into the best solider, but by doing so they make him desperately unhappy. The point in this is obvious, humankind comes before Ender. Ender must by unhappy and alone so humankind can survive. We see the exact situation played out again in Mazer Hackman’s sacrifice. He left his life behind to travel in space with the sole purpose of being alive to train his successor. Mazer very astutely noticed that, “Humanity does not ask us to be happy. It merely asks us to be brilliant on it’s behalf (277).”

            Focal Point Two is a question commonly asked in literature. I immediately thought of Dante’s Inferno, where the dead were punished for their crimes despite their innocent intentions. In Ender’s Game this question is first seen in Ender and Peter’s relationship. Or, more importantly, in Ender’s fear of being like Peter. Peter is ruthless and cruel, he hurts people to get his way, but he also enjoys it and it does it on purpose. Ender can also be ruthless. We saw this when he fought Stilson and Bonzo. While he was fighting in self-defense, we later learned that he ended up killing both boys. Ender didn’t fight just to end that battle; he fought to end all future battles. He may not have meant, or wanted, to kill the boys, but he did use more force than was strictly needed at the time. Peter, on the other hand, wants and means to hurt people. Is Ender a more morally valuable person just because he doesn’t mean to hurt people? In there is death, so does it matter that Ender feels badly and Peter doesn’t? Throughout the whole book even their sister calls both Ender and Peter killers. Is an accidental and unwilling killer like Ender still a killer?

            Mazer Hackman and Ender discuss Focal Point Two on page 270. Mazer says, “Just because they didn’t know they were killing human beings doesn’t mean they weren’t killing human beings (270).” Mazer is essentially saying that intentions don’t matter. It didn’t matter that the Bugger’s didn’t mean to kill thinking beings, only that they did.  By that logic you could say that Mazer would believe Ender and Peter to be the same person, or as Valentine would say, two sides of the same coin.

            Focal Point Two is again played out in Ender’s defeat of the Giant’s Drink game, the wolf children, and the Buggers. When Ender finally defeated the giant Anderson said, I’ve always thought the Giant’s Drink game was the most perverted part of the whole mind game, but going for the eye like that – this is the one we want to put in command of our fleet (66)?” Ender defeated the Giant by doing something ruthless, cruel and perverse, yet it produced the desired results. It was the only way to win. The same was true of his defeat of the wolf children. The wolves didn’t know any better, but still Ender had to kill them. Finally, when Ender destroyed the Bugger’s home world he used the same tactics. Do the unthinkable to win, to defeat the enemy. Each time Ender didn’t mean to hurt anyone, but each time he killed ruthlessly and without second thought. Can his good intentions excuse this?

            Yet, finally, Ender’s results match his good intentions when he becomes Andrew Wiggin, Speaker for the Dead. Interestingly enough, Peter decides to try and make his amends as well. Once again the brother act like two sides of the same coin with Valentine in the middle. I was left wondering about Peter. He ended up doing good for the world despite his selfish desires. Essentially, he did good with bad intentions. Just as Ender could be called a bad person despite his good intentions, Peter could be called a good person despite bad intentions. Logic can be a tricky thing.


Bibliography:

Card, Orson Scott. Ender's Game. New York: Tor, 1991.
Dante, Alighieri, and Mark Musa. Dante's Inferno. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1971.