I picked up this graphic novel months ago and it got buried beneath a pile of other unread magazines, comics and graphic novels. Finally I got through the stack and picked this one up and read it in two sessions.
I was excited about the release of the film version of this story from the moment I’d heard about it. What’s not to like? Sci-fi? Rachel Weisz? Stunning visuals and music always present in an Aronofsky’s picture? But then I read about how the production was going south. Brad Pitt decided it was beneath him or something and the studio decided to shut down the production. It looked like the end of a very promising project. But then Aronofsky took the story to Vertigo comics and they reinterpreted the story as a graphic novel with haunting paintings by a fellow named Kent Williams.
But then what? Aronofsky decided to rewrite the script into something he could make on a shoestring (by Hollywood standards, anyway) budget and hire actors who were willing to do the project for not a lot of money. The result was an extraordinary film and an extraordinary graphic novel, both born from the same seed story but developed in different ways. The back of the book declares it to be “the ultimate ‘director’s cut.” And it really feels like it at times. At other times it feels like the shooting storyboards for the film that eventually was made. In any case, both the film and the novel are worth the hour or two it takes to get through them.
This book is part of the Open Books project I’m working on.
My dad let me borrow a hardcover copy of “No Country for Old Men” several months ago, saying that I should read it before the movie came out. So I did, just barely. I finished the novel on Monday and saw the movie on Thursday. When was good, because the novel was still fresh in my mind and I was able to appreciate the careful adaptation of the movie. But before I discuss the movie at length, let me first touch on the book.
I’ll say that I really like McCarthy’s style. I read “The Road” and thought it one of the most original and literary entries in the post-apocalyptic sub-genre of science fiction. The author has a way with dialog (albeit annoyingly sans punctuation) that few authors can boast. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the majority of “No Country’s” story was moved along by dialog.
But I was also slightly disappointed in the overall story. I expected more. The central conflict is resolved barely halfway through the book, and the rest of the pages are devoted to an aging sheriff’s soliloquies on life and personal guilt, with only a little falling action after the climax and a glancing blow of a resolution. Maybe it’s my pulp novel sensibilities talking, but I wanted rewards for the “heroes” in the book and I wanted justice for the villains. But perhaps that is the point. Perhaps rewards and justice just don’t exist in McCarthy’s country.
This whole book/movie combo brought to head a very interesting argument: Whether to read the book first or see the movie first. If one reads the book first, one is more likely to pick apart the movie and be disappointed by even the slightest unfaithfulness to the original. On the other hand, if one sees the movie first, your image and opinions, especially when it comes to your visualization of the characters, will be forever skewed by the actors in the movie. The former choice allows you to use your imagination to bring the book’s story to life before seeing actors portray the same scenes, but will probably result in disappointment to the movie. The latter choice allows you to judge the movie for what it is before reading the novel, and there’s a better chance that you’ll enjoy both that much more.
A lot of it depends on the quality of the adaptation, and “No Country” stands as one of the most well-adapted films I’ve seen in some time. Obviously there are differences, but the main points and dialog are lifted straight from the text.
This book is part of the Open Books project I’m working on.
… I’ve recently been using my tumblelog for general posting.
I know, I know. I’ve been on this nonreligious studies kick lately. What can I say. A lot of good books have been written about atheism lately.
Hitchens book is no exception. While he’s much more of an ass than either Sam Harris or Richard Dawkins, Hitchens brings up many of the same points. He, however, does not merely shrug off religion as an unnecessary byproduct of a social species. No, he finds it to be much more sinister. Hitchens argument is that religion is the true root of all evil. He cites instance after instance of death and violence at the hands of the religious zealot, both in remote history and modern times. He picks on Christianity quite a bit but leaves no faith undisturbed. He even finds examples of violent Buddhist monks. He attacks Mother Teresa and Ghandi as hypocritical and ineffectual.
Hitchens spends about half of the book poking fun at people who see the world as more than chemistry in action. He spends the other half making serious accusations against particular faiths and even particular religious figures.
What I do appreciate about Harris, Dawkins and now Hitchens is that they all emphasize not the importance of rejecting religion and adopting atheism, but of encouraging free thought and not accepting “because it’s always been that way” as an answer. This is the most important lesson I’ve learned from these and other “new atheism” writers. Yes, it’s true that most religious practice and even faith itself doesn’t stand up to the test of critical thinking. But that’s not the point. The point is that everyone should decide what they think for themselves based on the best evidence that they can find or be shown. And even the most fundamental Christian can’t argue with that logic.
Of all the ridiculous things that Hitchens hammers on, the one that stands out the most to me is the attack on faith. Faith by its very definition is believing in something despite lack of or even contradictory evidence. What purpose does this serve? If you think something is true, and yet there is overwhelming evidence that it is actually false, what virtue is there in continuing to think it is true? And the obvious follow up to that question is why try to convince others to think it is true as well?
Agh. Anyway, it was a good book. Great for starting conversations, that’s for sure.
This book is part of the Open Books project I’m working on.
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