nerdy bibliophilia

[ciroccoj]

• I finally plowed all the way through LOTR. I must say it was a hell of a lot more enjoyable reading it this time - the first time I tried, about ten years ago, I gave up partway through The Two Towers. I felt like I was plodding through an endless field of odd names and stilted speeches. Every time Frodo or Sam complained of how tired they were, I muttered, "You and me both, guys."
  
  This time, having not only the movie images to sustain me (and I'm not just thinking Orlando Bloom and Viggo Mortenson here - no, really, I'm not), but also more of an understanding of the actual literary style of the thing, I really liked it. It makes a big difference reading something with an appreciation of what it's supposedly trying to get across, rather than what you think it's trying to get across. As a deliberate reflection of a literary style reminiscent of ancient Anglo Saxon heroic epics, LOTR is lyrical and impressive. As a fast-paced, thrilling modern fantasy adventure novel series, it's as gripping as the phone book.
  
  I must say all the Frodo/Sam interactions (and yes, I am using the slash on purpose ;) gave me the giggles though. Because Frodo/Sam slashfic seems so redundant now. This is not about subverting the text - it's canon! I mean, there's even a line about Sam wanting to "comfort his master with his body." Which is very sweet, albeit a little icky. Because, you know, the general grunginess of them both. And the hairy feet. And Gollum sneaking peeks once in a while.
  
  
• So, fresh from my triumph with LOTR, I decided to tackle The Iliad. Once again I'm relying on movie images and a better understanding of the literary style to sustain me, and so far, so good. And I nearly burst out laughing at the Pretty Boy Soils Himself scene, because it would've been hysterical if they'd done it that way in the movie. In the movie, you can tell Paris is not exactly the brains or the heart of the family, and that Hector's kind of embarrassed. But in the book... well, here it is:
  
  But when royal Paris saw that it was Menelaus who had taken up his challenge, his heart failed him completely, and he slipped back into the friendly ranks in terror for his life, like a man who comes on a snake in a wooded ravine, recoils, and with pale cheeks and trembling limbs goes back the way he came. Thus royal Paris slunk back among the lordly Trojans in his terror of Atreides.
  
  Hector had observed his brother and fell foul of him at once. "Paris, you pretty boy," he shouted at him, "you woman-struck seducer; why were you ever born? Why weren't you killed before your wedding day? Yes, I could wish it so. Far better that than to be a disgrace to the rest of us, as you are, and an object of contempt. How the long-haired Achaeans must laugh when they see us make a champion of a prince because of his good looks, forgetting that he has no strength of mind, no courage. When I look at you today, can you be the man, I ask, who picked yourself a crew of friends, sailed overseas in your much-travelled ships, hobnobbed with foreigners and carried off a beautiful woman from a distant land and warlike family, to be a curse to your father, to the city and to the whole people, to cause our enemies to rejoice, and you to hang your head in shame? And now are you too cowardly to stand up to the brave man whom you wronged? You would soon find out the kind of fighter he is whose lovely wife you stole. Your lyre would not help you at all, nor Aphrodite's gifts, those locks of yours and your good looks, when he had made you bite the dust. But the Trojans are too soft. Otherwise you would have been stoned to death
  long ago for the evil you have done."
  
  "Hector, your taunts are justified," replied the noble Paris; "you have not said a word too much. How like your indomitable spirit! Your tireless energy puts me in mind of an axe in a carpenter's hands, hacking its way through a log and giving him th power to shape the timbers for a ship. But there is something you must not reproach me for — the lovely gifts I have from Golden Aphrodite. The precious gifts that the gods lavish on a man unasked are not to be despised, even though he might not choose them if he had the chance."
  
  
  Now picture Eric Bana and Orlando Bloom saying the lines above. ::geek-giggle::

Comments

[snarkhunter.livejournal.com]

::giggling::

All so true. Though I haven't read the Illiad. Don't know if I will. But the LOTR stuff? The second half of The Two Towers kills me EVERY time. It's SO dull. It's all miserypaindeathwoemiserypain for 200 pages, and one can only take so much of Frodo's whining.

As a deliberate reflection of a literary style reminiscent of ancient Anglo Saxon heroic epics, LOTR is lyrical and impressive. As a fast-paced, thrilling modern fantasy adventure novel series, it's as gripping as the phone book.

BWAH! And again. So. True.

[ciroccoj.livejournal.com]

The second half of The Two Towers kills me EVERY time.

Yeah, even with the whole "appreciation for the literary style" mantra going through my head, that one was a bit of a slog. In the cold dull rain. With nothing but lembas bread to gnaw on. And no bloody end in sight.

I know an author should strive to make his story come alive to the reader, and immerse them in the world he creates... but a little distance woulda been just A-OK by me. Or some judicious summarization. "So then they picked up Gollum. And they plodded, and plodded, and were miserable, and then more miserable, and then - oh look! There's Shelob!"

[bear.livejournal.com]

Now picture Eric Bana and Orlando Bloom having hot, sweaty, well-oiled sex.

Oh, wait. You didn't say that. I did. My bad. :)

[ciroccoj.livejournal.com]

::chokesnort::

You're incorrigible :D :D :D :D