Nimi: Garpin maailma
Alkuperäinen nimi: The World According to Garp
Kirjoittaja: John Irving
Julkaistu: 1980, Keltainen Kirjasto (alunperin 1976)
Genre: Fiktiivinen draama
Sivuluku: 560
Huu. 'Aikuisten kirjallisuutta'.
Garpin maailma on ollut yksi lempileffojani kakarasta asti. Ja sillä siis tarkoitan että elokuva on tullut nähtyä monen monta kertaa. Kirjan ostin 2003 Joensuun kirjaston poistomyynnistä, ja nyt sitten JO sain luettua... köh. Kirjasta on tietenkin jätetty joitain osia pois elokuvaversiossa, mutta ei mielestäni mitään oleellista, kerrankin.
T. S. Garp syntyi vuonna 1943, ja kirja seuraa hänen elämäänsä siihen asti mihin ihmisen elämä nyt yleensä loppuu. Hänen äitinsä oli Jenny Fields, sairaanhoitaja joka halusi lapsen muttei miestä. Omalaatuiset äiti ja poika päätyvät aika pitkälti itsepäisyyttään kirjailijoiksi, enemmän tai vähemmän menestyneiksi sellaisiksi.
Hmm. Kuten sanoin, leffa on nähty monesti, ja kirjakin nyt luettu, ja silti on jotenkin vaikea yrittää saada jotain kirjoitetuksi. Luultavasti koska sain viimeisen sivun luettua alle 10 minuuttia sitten; mieli on yhä muualla ja silmät itkeneet. Olen kirjavollottaja. Pidin kirjasta yhtä paljon kuin elokuvasta, luin suurimman osan siitä kahdella istumalla. Tai sohvalla lojumalla, jos ihan tarkkoja ollaan. Vaikka rakastan esim. Martin Millarin lyhyitä teoksia joissa nähdään vain hyvinkin lyhyt kohtaus hahmojen elämästä, tällaiset elämiä kestävät tiiliskivetkin uppoavat. Niin, ja bonusta tietenkin oli että kirjassa kerrotaan myös mitä kaikille muille hahmoille tapahtuu, se jätettiin elokuvasta pois.
Saattoi tulla hiukan sekavaa tekstiä mutta hei, pistetään krapulan syyksi. Tai siis sen, että tuli nautittua hyvässä seurassa muutamakin eilen illalla, krapula taisi eksyä naapurille.
Hän yritti kirjoittaa tarinan perheestä, mutta alkaessaan hän ei tiennyt siitä muuta kuin sen, että se eli kiintoisaa elämää ja että sen jäsenet olivat läheisiä toisilleen. Eikä se riittänyt.
sunnuntai 29. toukokuuta 2011
lauantai 28. toukokuuta 2011
Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving
Title: Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving
Author: Martin Millar
Published: 1994 by Fourth Estate
Genre: Humorous fiction
Pages: 200
I really do love Millar's books. They're these short-ish treats that just suck you in and generally leave you feeling happy and stuff. Like this one. It's about a young, quite antisocial woman called Elfish, who's into bad sex and brilliant stage diving, plus cheating and lying to further her own plans.
And her big dream is to gain the name Queen Mab for her band (which she doesn't have, but that doesn't stop her) from her ex Mo, before he and his band can perform and claim the name for themselves. To achieve this, she must be able to perform a Shakespeare poem from Romeo and Juliet, regarding Queen Mab, before Mo's band's gig. So she lies her head off through a group of people who have more or less lost their own dreams to gain their help in this endeavor.
It's about hope, and how just a little of it can take you a long way. But not in a sappy way. "Martin Millar is a quite superb, pomp-free writer." says one commenter on the back cover. Well put.
Outside the sun shone and Elfish squinted in disapproval. She hated it when the sun shone brightly. It hurt her eyes, even when they were covered by her hair.
"Hello, Elfish," came one cheerful voice, followed by another.
Cary and Lilac were standing outside, holding hands.
Elfish came to a halt, glowering. She could not be sure but she had the distinct impression that the young lovers were gently squeezing each other's hands in a secret message of devotion.
This was too much for Elfish. She glared evilly at them, stormed back into her house, grabbed the television from the living room and marched upstairs.
She brought out her bottle of whisky and, without removing her leggings, boots or jacket, switched off the light and got into bed. ...
Author: Martin Millar
Published: 1994 by Fourth Estate
Genre: Humorous fiction
Pages: 200
I really do love Millar's books. They're these short-ish treats that just suck you in and generally leave you feeling happy and stuff. Like this one. It's about a young, quite antisocial woman called Elfish, who's into bad sex and brilliant stage diving, plus cheating and lying to further her own plans.
And her big dream is to gain the name Queen Mab for her band (which she doesn't have, but that doesn't stop her) from her ex Mo, before he and his band can perform and claim the name for themselves. To achieve this, she must be able to perform a Shakespeare poem from Romeo and Juliet, regarding Queen Mab, before Mo's band's gig. So she lies her head off through a group of people who have more or less lost their own dreams to gain their help in this endeavor.
It's about hope, and how just a little of it can take you a long way. But not in a sappy way. "Martin Millar is a quite superb, pomp-free writer." says one commenter on the back cover. Well put.
Outside the sun shone and Elfish squinted in disapproval. She hated it when the sun shone brightly. It hurt her eyes, even when they were covered by her hair.
"Hello, Elfish," came one cheerful voice, followed by another.
Cary and Lilac were standing outside, holding hands.
Elfish came to a halt, glowering. She could not be sure but she had the distinct impression that the young lovers were gently squeezing each other's hands in a secret message of devotion.
This was too much for Elfish. She glared evilly at them, stormed back into her house, grabbed the television from the living room and marched upstairs.
She brought out her bottle of whisky and, without removing her leggings, boots or jacket, switched off the light and got into bed. ...
lauantai 21. toukokuuta 2011
The Left Hand of God
Title: The Left Hand of God
Author: Paul Hoffman
Published: 2010 by Penguin
Genre: Sci-fi-ish fantasy. Thing.
Pages: 498
This book made me go "Umm. What?" more times than any in... quite a long time! The writing is... oddly paced, and I couldn't quite get a grip of it. Or the characters. But granted, there was a reason why the characters were hard to read or identify with, and Hoffman eventually seemed to know where all this is going. Still. What?
What's it about then. The Left Hand of God starts at this place called Sanctuary, which turns out to be some kind of a religious military training camp for boys from hell. The world is obviously ours, but maybe in a far, distant and distorted future?
"So it's my fault? Well, if it is, I'm going to put it right. That boy is a menace. He's a jinx like that fellow in the belly of the whale."
"Jesus of Nazareth?"
"Yes, him."
Thomas Cale is one of the much-beaten boys kept more or less prisoner there, but there's one powerful man in Sanctuary who seems to have special interest in him. So then, when Cale escapes, things get interesting. Except that it still didn't convince me that I should read the rest of it, as well. You see, several times I thought I'd just do the nigh unthinkable and STOP READING.
There was, however, one big reason why I did keep reading, and will probably read the sequel as well: I never knew what the hell would happen next. I'd guess, deduce and reason, but get it wrong.
As Redeemer Stape Roy emerged from the building the air of Kitty Town hit him like a blow to the face. The noise! The people! He felt like a blind man whose first sight was of the rainbows of hell, a deaf man whose hearing is restored to the sound of the end of the world. There were bawlers with their loozles, mawleys with their ya-yas hanging out for all to see; there were benjamins in jemimas calling out 'Yellow, come and get get.' There were burtons and their naked pikers, middlemen calling for agony, Aunts with their bung nippers covered in rouge and shouting for a half and half. There were Huguenots selling bum-baileys to the highest bidder and nutty lads with long tongues looking for a pigeon in a packet of two.
...like I said. What?
Author: Paul Hoffman
Published: 2010 by Penguin
Genre: Sci-fi-ish fantasy. Thing.
Pages: 498
This book made me go "Umm. What?" more times than any in... quite a long time! The writing is... oddly paced, and I couldn't quite get a grip of it. Or the characters. But granted, there was a reason why the characters were hard to read or identify with, and Hoffman eventually seemed to know where all this is going. Still. What?
What's it about then. The Left Hand of God starts at this place called Sanctuary, which turns out to be some kind of a religious military training camp for boys from hell. The world is obviously ours, but maybe in a far, distant and distorted future?
"So it's my fault? Well, if it is, I'm going to put it right. That boy is a menace. He's a jinx like that fellow in the belly of the whale."
"Jesus of Nazareth?"
"Yes, him."
Thomas Cale is one of the much-beaten boys kept more or less prisoner there, but there's one powerful man in Sanctuary who seems to have special interest in him. So then, when Cale escapes, things get interesting. Except that it still didn't convince me that I should read the rest of it, as well. You see, several times I thought I'd just do the nigh unthinkable and STOP READING.
There was, however, one big reason why I did keep reading, and will probably read the sequel as well: I never knew what the hell would happen next. I'd guess, deduce and reason, but get it wrong.
As Redeemer Stape Roy emerged from the building the air of Kitty Town hit him like a blow to the face. The noise! The people! He felt like a blind man whose first sight was of the rainbows of hell, a deaf man whose hearing is restored to the sound of the end of the world. There were bawlers with their loozles, mawleys with their ya-yas hanging out for all to see; there were benjamins in jemimas calling out 'Yellow, come and get get.' There were burtons and their naked pikers, middlemen calling for agony, Aunts with their bung nippers covered in rouge and shouting for a half and half. There were Huguenots selling bum-baileys to the highest bidder and nutty lads with long tongues looking for a pigeon in a packet of two.
...like I said. What?
tiistai 17. toukokuuta 2011
Bookshelves again!
Sequel to February's look at my bookshelves, here's finally what my current one looks like...
Side one! I've got the books organised a little by genre, a little by size, a lot by author, and... that's it. Please ignore the torn wallpaper in the background, we're in the process of tearing it all off and painting all the walls.
There's random comics, my whole Ralf König -collection, most of my gay and lesbian books, all of my Millars and Palahniuks. On second row, a whole bunch of comics. Third, DVD's! And hard cover books. And some art books. Most of bottom row is open for cats to move through. Oh, and action figures.
Side two! There's more DVD's and some biographies, and then a bunch of paperbacks. Third row, maybe a third of my manga collection, and all of Six Feet Under in a sweet box. On the very left side, you can see my SO's bookshelves. And we gotta empty them all somewhere and move the shelves for the painting project. That'll be fun.
Then it's reshelving. Now that WILL be FUN! That will be my favourite part.
Side one! I've got the books organised a little by genre, a little by size, a lot by author, and... that's it. Please ignore the torn wallpaper in the background, we're in the process of tearing it all off and painting all the walls.
There's random comics, my whole Ralf König -collection, most of my gay and lesbian books, all of my Millars and Palahniuks. On second row, a whole bunch of comics. Third, DVD's! And hard cover books. And some art books. Most of bottom row is open for cats to move through. Oh, and action figures.
Side two! There's more DVD's and some biographies, and then a bunch of paperbacks. Third row, maybe a third of my manga collection, and all of Six Feet Under in a sweet box. On the very left side, you can see my SO's bookshelves. And we gotta empty them all somewhere and move the shelves for the painting project. That'll be fun.
Then it's reshelving. Now that WILL be FUN! That will be my favourite part.
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