March

A book so well-written, it causes envy and jealousy within me. How could I possibly expect to write as well as this? If all published works had to be this well-written, few authors would stand a chance.

I realized while reading this that most of Geraldine Brooks's sentences were detail-in-action. (And certainly not the other way around, which mars many works of good writers.) Her sentences are doing one of two things: they're either description, or they are action. Too much of either one would be boring, even if it's well-written and boring. Therefore most of her sentences are a combination of the two, detail-in-action.

In this, she takes a mostly-absent character from Alcott's Little Women (which, embarrassingly, I have never read, though I have it around here somewhere) and fills in his gaps. Where did March go when he enlisted? What did he do? Well, he did these things.

This book is a masterpiece (and therefore worthy of its Pulitzer) of its time, and of its rendition of the people of its time. Yet like all good works, it makes the reader understand that the people of its time are also the people of this time, and vice-versa. Here you have racism among the Northerners and the Southerners, and neither is treated like a stereotype. And so it is today. March comes home a bitter soldier who has seen and done too much, and who has brought with him a PTSD and a Blakian Experience that will never be undone. And so it is with returning soldiers today.

This is a book of all times, of all wars, of all soldiers and of all victims. Wars in Iraq, Syria, and anywhere else of any time will be similar to Brooks's Civil War rendition here.

The sudden POV shift jarred a little, and the shift back to March disoriented a little (I had to go back  to be sure that it was his turn again), but the reader will see the necessity of the shifts. Brooks could have superficially prepared the reader, perhaps by placing character names at the beginning of each chapter--a la George R. R. Martin in his Song of Ice and Fire books--but such is not her way. You'll be able to bear it and move on.

She does an interesting thing with Grace, who seems to turn up a little bit more coincidentally than maybe she should--but the reader will see the necessity for this as well. Brooks gets away with these two things that would have torpedoed lesser writers (such as myself).

This was a quick, intelligent and gripping read that sounds all too true, and will perhaps leave you a little emotional throughout, and certainly at its end. But you owe it to yourself to read it, if not for the great writing and experience, then perhaps to better understand a returning soldier you happen to know today.

World War Z

Photo: from its Wikipedia page, here.  Go to it to read about this film's troubled shooting history.

A very good movie, a little bit more intellectual, directed, and written than usual for a summer film.  It's a constant moody edginess, a feeling that nothing extremely terrible is going to go wrong (or, actually, worse, since things go very, very wrong, right away, for everybody) for the main characters, but also that nothing much is going to lead to total salvation, either.  If you're looking for a zombie film with a specific end to the disaster, look elsewhere.

But that's not to say that things--good things--aren't accomplished in this film, because they are.  A family gets saved and (almost) permanently housed in safety.  The main character (Brad Pitt, in a solid, but not terribly demanding, performance) even keeps in touch daily with his wife (a beautiful woman who looks like Jessica Chastain, but isn't.  She's Mireille Enos.), which in one instance actually wasn't a good thing.  Anyway, there's no message, per se, here, but if there was one, I guess it would be: protect your family and honor your fellow humans.  This comes across in a sleight, non-preachy sort of way.

Everyone's heroic here, except perhaps for the scientist, whose end is somewhat vague, though obviously the movie has to swing to Pitt's heroics somehow, so there you go.  The soldiers and scientists and doctors are heroic.  The wife is heroic.  A little boy is heroic.  There's not one spineless person left alive.  There wasn't room for one in the script, anyway.

You'll be blown away (as many of the zombies were, he-he-he) by specific special effects that lead to some very specifically breathless scenes.  Unfortunately, you'll have seen them all in the trailer, and you'll be looking for them to happen during the movie, like I did, though if you're like me, you'll try very hard not to.  But it won't be possible.  You'll think: ah, there's the wall that millions of them will climb; this is the plane that will blow up and suck out a great many.  And so on.  Don't see the trailer, if you haven't already.  If you have, it's not the end of the world (sorry) because the scenes are great anyway.  In fact, the intensity and tension were picked up quite a bit because of the expectation.  Well, for me, anyway.

At the end, I think you'll agree that this was a movie that needed to be viewed on the (very) big screen.  The ending, such as it is, makes sense, and you won't feel cheated or disappointed.  You'll wonder about the lingering health of those who get administered at the end, and whether it would be worth it to live that way, until also getting administered something else.  And then what?  How will they be protected then?  (You'll see what I mean.)  In fact, you might wonder, as I did, if a simple cold will do.  Or how about a sinus infection?  I get those buggers all the time.

P.S.--While buying the obligatory popcorn (stale for the second movie in a row, by the way), I noticed that the calorie count for each candy item was on a small but official looking placard.  I know that some candy has more calories than do others, but aren't they all sort of equally bad?  You can't stay on a diet, or maintain perfect cholesterol or heart health, if you were to eat any of the candy sitting there.  So why the calorie count cards?  Did someone actually threaten to sue because they didn't realize the calories in their Reese's Peanut Butter Cups?  Speaking of which, a package of four Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, which sells for a dollar for most fundraisers, or $1.59, max, at your local store, was selling for $4.50 each at my local movie theater.  I can't tell which is crazier, the cards with the calorie counts, or the price.  I mean, isn't price gouging illegal?