A Wrinkle in Time

It still surprises me that, as a child growing up, I never came across certain classics that have been the staple young children's imaginations for decades. For instance, I only discovered the Chronicles of Narnia in my late teens, the Lord of the Rings somewhere around the time the movies came out, and Madeleine L'engle and her stories...well, even later than both. I can't say why this has been the case, and I would really hate to blame it on my family.

Anyway, the last words I read with my head on my pillow last night before I closed my eyes were from A Wrinkle in Time. It is the story of the Murry family (comprising of Meg, Charles Wallace, the twins, and Mrs Murry) whose father has been missing for nearly two years. It is left to Meg, little Charles Wallace, and their new friend Calvin to rescue Mr Murry from the clutches of an evil entity in a distant (very distant) planet and bring him back home. They receive plenty of help from the mysterious triad delightfully known as Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who, and Mrs Which.

They travel by 'wrinkling' or 'tessering' through dimensions, and I won't bother to explain because I would do a very bad job of it. The book describes it quite sufficiently. What's important here is that they do travel, and in the course of their adventure, Meg, Charles Wallace, and Calvin are tested beyond their strengths, which means they win in the most unexpected way. In the end, it is left to Meg to pull things through and overcome the evil that seeks to destroy them all.

I had heard of this book and how good it was before I had read it, of course, which is why I was surprised by the writing style - simple, crisp, and straight to the point. But the fact that it is a story written for children makes perfect sense that it is written in this way (this made me realise that much of the literature out there today that we call Children's Literature is really literature written for adults). Furthermore, the writing does not get in the way of the story but rather propels it forward.

For a children's story, the characters are complex and come on strongly, particularly little Charles Wallace, whom I absolutely love but still don't understand, which is to be expected, since even his own mother does not fully understand him! The story is rich with metaphors and allusions to God and references to biblical scriptures.

What this book celebrates are the values that make us human - words, literature, music, art, wisdom, freedom, science - and the ways of a loving, sovereign, and powerful God. Whether there is a connection between the two, I'll leave that for you to decide. But I believe there is a connection, and that there would be nothing without this connection.

A simple, instant, and unpretentious classic that is truly deserving of the status it holds in the hearts of not only young book-lovers, but even older ones. After all, Madeleine L'engle believed that if something was too difficult for adults to understand, then you were to write it for children.

Quantum of Solace - What's So Not Solacing About It?

I watched Quantum of Solace two nights ago, after which I had to go back and rewatch Casino Royale to refresh my mind. Having done that, I can only end with the conclusion I had started out with in the very beginning, one that was still at that early stage, to me, a hypothesis, now confirmed.

Quantum of Solace has disappointed most of the movie-goers I've spoken to or have had the privilege of overhearing, and something tells me they're not the only ones. It could be for any number of reasons. I shared similar sentiments fresh out of the theatre, but I won't go so far as to say I was disappointed. At the very least, I was actually quite entertained; if Quantum of Solace is anything at all, it is an action movie in its own right. That aside, I have a few things to pick at, which I'm sure most fellow movie-goers would identify with.

Whatever heart Quantum of Solace may have aspired to have, I feel it was misplaced nevertheless. The story supposedly picks up from where Casino Royale left off, Bond hot on the tale of his lover's killer. We see a severely more ruthless Bond here, and probably the toughest Bond to ever streak across the screens of our imagination. His armour is fully back on, with avengeance, and he kills as easily as he breathes the air around him. Yet underneath that toughened, brazen armour is a centre still tender from his last brush with love - at least that's what the film tries to show. In my opinion, it doesn't come off too well. Bond seems to be more of an assassin than a spy, what with his careless and detached demeanour. The story as a whole (and one might add, the character even) seems so far removed from that of Casino Royale, and one finds herself asking from time to time, what is Bond after again in this film? Is it revenge, or is it the bad guys, or is it both? But it can't be both. What the filmmakers succeeded in doing is stuffing two plot lines, each with the full capacity of being a story on its own, into one film. Therefore, it feels overloaded, rushed, and even sometimes, contrived.

Overall, however, I believe the main weakness of Quantum of Solace (and that most probably perceived by audiences, hence their reactions) is simply that it follows after its predecessor and older brother, Casino Royale. The latter redefined the Bond series in a rather heart-wrenching way, leaving viewers with the bittersweet taste of something deep, meaningful, fresh, and unheard of. In all probability, this is what viewers were expecting a second time, but alas, they didn't get it. The James Bond of Quantum of Solace is completely different and unorthodox (by classic Bondian standards, of course), but Quantum of Solace itself seems to me a return to orthodoxy in terms of plot and character development. With so much to live up to, Quantum of Solace probably could have come at a better time (which of course would have been an impossibility).

Once again, an entertaining action film in its own right; but one that lives in the shadow of a bigger and more daring success.

Am I Not a Child?

Something I penned a few weeks ago in response to this picture, whose image has remained with me ever since I saw it about a couple years ago:

Am I not a child
Whose limbs are sticks,
Whose face is a mask
Of bones?
Why are my eyes like dice
That roll in my head,
Opening and closing,
A physical plea,
A pitiful cry for mercy,
And I pray they fall on any number
That will be the vision of my salvation,
And I close them, and when they open,
Still I remain as dead?
Am I not a child?
Then why must I worry about death
And food and vultures?
Do children not have fat cheeks
And laughing eyes
Or greasy lips and chins
That form mischievous grins?
Are children not restless
And naughty and bright
And sprightly?
Why does my open mouth
Do nothing but plead
For simple nourishment
If I am a child?
If I am a child,
Why am I alone?
Am I not a child?

Watership Down - The Quintissential Feast of Story

Who would have thought that a handful of rabbits would rise up in the vast field of literature and become heroes in the true sense of the word to me? Rabbits, not humans that look like rabbits, but rabbits that are truly rabbits. And what would make a man sit down and write a 500-page saga about rabbits roaming about in the English countryside? Well, something did stir Richard Adams, and the result is Watership Down, a novel that tells a story.

The story picks up without much ado and moves along, and for the first few pages, I tried to snuggle with the fact that the next 400+ pages I would read were about rabbits and nothing more. Seriously, what could be more boring than that? And how could you sustain a story like that for so long?

How wrong I was.

Richard Adams has taken the legend of the animal kindgom (I'm reminded of cunning Tortoise racing proud Hare to the finish line - yes, I grew up around such stories), crafted it around rabbits, and magnified it a hundred times. Thus, the story isn't simplistic. It is about a motley and unlikely group of rabbits trying to survive against all odds. But at its thematically simplest, the story is about leadership, and many a leader (man, not rabbit) would do well to pay attention and learn from these rabbits.

We meet Hazel-rah, the Chief Rabbit - brave, unsure, inexperienced, but wise and tactful. We meet Fiver - gentle, pensive, thoughtful, and clairvoyant. We meet Bigwig - strong, oppressive, fearless, and reckless. We meet Blackberry - intelligent, perceptive, and innovative. We meet Dandelion - fast, witty, and shy. I could go on and on; the point is that we meet a whole bunch of rabbits, each a distinctly drawn character, and we fall absolutely in love with them. We route for them, we hope for them, we laugh with them, we cry (for the record, I never cried while reading this book) with them, and we (believe it or not) enjoy the comforts of the burrow and the flavours of the grass and vegetables with them. Such is the life that is sparked into being in Watership Down.

This is an adventure that is sure to suck you in and never let you go - and in ways that even stories about humans never did. I promise you that. Adams takes his time in painting a summery portrait of the English countryside - what with all its plant-life (think figwort, loosestrife, fleabane) and birds and sounds (having been in England myself this past summer, I miss it all with nostalgic passion). And after having read of the exploits of Hazel and Bigwig, of the insights of Fiver, and of the speed of Blackberry and Dandelion, you will close the book with a big smile and think to yourself you are a better person for having read the book.

I know I did.