Sunday, December 10, 2006
The Rescue Artist
I found a book at the library the other day that I dove right into after finishing American Gods. It's called The Rescue Artist by Edward Dolnick and is the story about how thieves stole Edvard Munch's painting The Scream from the National Gallery in Oslo, Norway, and the people who worked to recover it. Imagine, me, interested in a book about art and museums. Who would've guessed?
I'm about half-way through. The book reads easily and moves quickly. There's a lot of good description, especially psychological description, of the main investigator in the case, Charley Hill of Scotland Yard. At one point, Charley has to study all he can about Munch's work, so that he can convince those in the art underworld that he knows what he's talking about if he gets a chance to purchase the painting. He also has to study what is known about The Scream itself so that he can identify it properly once he finds it.
One of the interesting things about the painting was the inspiration for it. Munch was walking with friends in Norway and suddenly saw this brilliant red sunset, which he felt was screaming. The painting was created in 1883 and scholars are trying to figure out whether Munch had witnessed the after effects of the eruption of the volcano on Krakatoa, which occurred on August 27, 1883. When the volcano blew and took the island with it, the ash went into the atmosphere and could be seen around the world during the next several months in the form of unusual sunsets. Munch physically felt a scream when he saw the sunset that inspired the painting. He also experienced periods of madness in his life, which leads me to wonder if he was a synesthete. Synesthetes have brains that mix the senses, hearing color, tasting sound & etc. Surely, if an island blows up, the shock wave would be like a scream and Edvard was sensitive enough to pick it up.
I'm about half-way through. The book reads easily and moves quickly. There's a lot of good description, especially psychological description, of the main investigator in the case, Charley Hill of Scotland Yard. At one point, Charley has to study all he can about Munch's work, so that he can convince those in the art underworld that he knows what he's talking about if he gets a chance to purchase the painting. He also has to study what is known about The Scream itself so that he can identify it properly once he finds it.
One of the interesting things about the painting was the inspiration for it. Munch was walking with friends in Norway and suddenly saw this brilliant red sunset, which he felt was screaming. The painting was created in 1883 and scholars are trying to figure out whether Munch had witnessed the after effects of the eruption of the volcano on Krakatoa, which occurred on August 27, 1883. When the volcano blew and took the island with it, the ash went into the atmosphere and could be seen around the world during the next several months in the form of unusual sunsets. Munch physically felt a scream when he saw the sunset that inspired the painting. He also experienced periods of madness in his life, which leads me to wonder if he was a synesthete. Synesthetes have brains that mix the senses, hearing color, tasting sound & etc. Surely, if an island blows up, the shock wave would be like a scream and Edvard was sensitive enough to pick it up.
Labels: american gods, art, crime, edvard munch, krakatoa, museum, norway, reading, rescue artist, scream, synesthesia
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
American Gods, Part II
I finished reading Neil Gaiman's American Gods today. I savored it this time through. When I found a particularly good sentence, I reread it just to catch its subtleties.
Now, I'm not going to be a nasty spoiler and reveal things I shouldn't, but here's what I discovered during my second reading of the book. I picked up on little important things this time that I didn't notice before. Neil is very good - and I mean VERY good - at throwing in a seemingly insignificant detail somewhere near the beginning of the book and rolling back around to this detail later on. How does he have the memory for it?
Neil's also got a facility for setting an accurate & believable scene. Part of the book takes place in Wisconsin & Minnesota and he's dead-on with his descriptions of the weather and scenery. It makes me trust him when he describes places I've never been.
During the first reading, I bawled my eyes out at one point in the book - broken-hearted sobbing, really. I didn't do that this time; the effect was worn off for the second read. I did, however, almost cry at the ending, which, come to think, I probably did the first time, too. I like it when a writer gets to me.
I was astonished at the number of gods Neil mentions in the book. I was more aware of this for the second read because I was going to try to keep track, but there are so many, it was impossible. Makes me wonder how long the research took for the book.
Finally, I noticed the beats Neil used within his dialogue. This is a writerly sort of thing, but beats are the actions characters engage in while talking to each other. They make the dialogue easier to read and more believable. Neil gave his main character, Shadow, a habit that made for a continually effective beat. Shadow does coin tricks, which gives him something to do with his hands. This use of beats is something I'm definitely going to remember for my next short story.
Am I recommending that you read American Gods? Yeah. And if you've read it once, I'm recommending you read it again.
Now, I'm not going to be a nasty spoiler and reveal things I shouldn't, but here's what I discovered during my second reading of the book. I picked up on little important things this time that I didn't notice before. Neil is very good - and I mean VERY good - at throwing in a seemingly insignificant detail somewhere near the beginning of the book and rolling back around to this detail later on. How does he have the memory for it?
Neil's also got a facility for setting an accurate & believable scene. Part of the book takes place in Wisconsin & Minnesota and he's dead-on with his descriptions of the weather and scenery. It makes me trust him when he describes places I've never been.
During the first reading, I bawled my eyes out at one point in the book - broken-hearted sobbing, really. I didn't do that this time; the effect was worn off for the second read. I did, however, almost cry at the ending, which, come to think, I probably did the first time, too. I like it when a writer gets to me.
I was astonished at the number of gods Neil mentions in the book. I was more aware of this for the second read because I was going to try to keep track, but there are so many, it was impossible. Makes me wonder how long the research took for the book.
Finally, I noticed the beats Neil used within his dialogue. This is a writerly sort of thing, but beats are the actions characters engage in while talking to each other. They make the dialogue easier to read and more believable. Neil gave his main character, Shadow, a habit that made for a continually effective beat. Shadow does coin tricks, which gives him something to do with his hands. This use of beats is something I'm definitely going to remember for my next short story.
Am I recommending that you read American Gods? Yeah. And if you've read it once, I'm recommending you read it again.
Labels: american gods, beats, minnesota, neil gaiman, reading, wisconsin, writing
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Magical Thinking
Biologist Richard Dawkins is getting a lot of press lately, primarily for his views on atheism. I was listening to an interview with him on MPR not long ago and he indicated that he feels that any child brought up solely in one religion is undergoing child abuse. I agree with this sentiment to a certain extent. I realize that people who are raising their children in one faith, and one faith only, are primarily doing so for what they feel are the most noble of reasons, however, unless these children are cloistered, they are going to rub shoulders with people of different faiths. If for no other reason than to avoid social insensitivity, children should learn a little something about other religions. On a more fundamental level, what if a kid doesn't fit with the faith of his/her parents? I was raised Catholic, which never matched my mindset. When I found Unitarian Universalism, I felt that I had come home spiritually.
Now that I've found a point of agreement with Richard Dawkins, let me spin into a point of disagreement with him and other atheists. Those who believe there is no god cannot seem to tolerate people who engage in magical thinking. It's all hard-edged, cold, complex, beautiful reality for them. The vast majority of us slip into magical thinking now and again, believing our prayers work; believing in ghosts, fairies, Big Foot & the Loch Ness monster; attributing unexplained phenomena to some mystical, mysterious force; believing that that force is God.
I'm rereading Neil Gaiman's American Gods, a book so full of magical thinking that I wouldn't be surprised if it turned into a raven and flapped away into the night. The beauty of magical thinking, which is as gorgeous and complex as our physical reality, is its ability to let us imagine the unimaginable. If we did not think that gods could fly, could we have ever figured out how to make humans do so? As an evolutionist might argue, we kept the ability for magical thinking over time because it is evolutionarily advantageous for our species. Let's not reject it out of hand because we think we know better now that we've evolved past the point of needing gods.
Now that I've found a point of agreement with Richard Dawkins, let me spin into a point of disagreement with him and other atheists. Those who believe there is no god cannot seem to tolerate people who engage in magical thinking. It's all hard-edged, cold, complex, beautiful reality for them. The vast majority of us slip into magical thinking now and again, believing our prayers work; believing in ghosts, fairies, Big Foot & the Loch Ness monster; attributing unexplained phenomena to some mystical, mysterious force; believing that that force is God.
I'm rereading Neil Gaiman's American Gods, a book so full of magical thinking that I wouldn't be surprised if it turned into a raven and flapped away into the night. The beauty of magical thinking, which is as gorgeous and complex as our physical reality, is its ability to let us imagine the unimaginable. If we did not think that gods could fly, could we have ever figured out how to make humans do so? As an evolutionist might argue, we kept the ability for magical thinking over time because it is evolutionarily advantageous for our species. Let's not reject it out of hand because we think we know better now that we've evolved past the point of needing gods.
Labels: american gods, evolution, god, magical thinking, neil gaiman, raven, religion, richard dawkins
Sunday, November 19, 2006
American Gods
I'm rereading American Gods by Neil Gaiman. It's even better the second time around, and it was darned good the first. Some time after the first reading, my husband and I were in conversation and I said, "Do you remember that movie with the guy hanging from the tree?" He looked at me like I had two heads. That's when I realized I was talking about American Gods and that the writing had been so well done that I had envisioned it as a movie as I read it.
The second time through, I'm catching subtle things I didn't at first. I'm more keenly aware of the language. Gaiman's good with the metaphors and other literary devices. His tales are mythic, but with that sense that myth is a part of everyday life. I like that. I wonder if he believes in the supernatural. If he doesn't, he's doing a good job of faking it.
Back to this idea of American Gods as a movie: It'd be interesting if the Coen brothers would direct & produce it because they have a great sense of the quirky. I've been mentally trying to cast the piece, but the only character I can place an actor with is Mr. Nancy. I'd like to see him played by the guy who used to do the 7up commercials - the guy with the island accent, and the shiny white teeth that stood out against his dark skin and matched his white, white suit.
I can't figure out who should play Shadow, the main character. The best I can come up with is that he should be played by an unknown, because anyone else would be too recognizable to be a shadow.
The second time through, I'm catching subtle things I didn't at first. I'm more keenly aware of the language. Gaiman's good with the metaphors and other literary devices. His tales are mythic, but with that sense that myth is a part of everyday life. I like that. I wonder if he believes in the supernatural. If he doesn't, he's doing a good job of faking it.
Back to this idea of American Gods as a movie: It'd be interesting if the Coen brothers would direct & produce it because they have a great sense of the quirky. I've been mentally trying to cast the piece, but the only character I can place an actor with is Mr. Nancy. I'd like to see him played by the guy who used to do the 7up commercials - the guy with the island accent, and the shiny white teeth that stood out against his dark skin and matched his white, white suit.
I can't figure out who should play Shadow, the main character. The best I can come up with is that he should be played by an unknown, because anyone else would be too recognizable to be a shadow.
Labels: american gods, coen brothers, husband, movie, myth, neil gaiman, shadow, supernatural, writing
