The Fourth Kind

Now, let’s not kid ourselves here when talking about aliens. One of the great unanswered questions of all time (besides the whole “how many licks to the center of a Tootsie pop” thing) is whether or not we are alone in the universe. Drive anywhere near the infamous Roswell, New Mexico and you’ll be sure to find evidence that there is hope – or fear, whichever way you prefer to look at it. Mix up this extraterrestrial quest with a camera, some lighting, and CGI effects and you have a bona-fide “alien movie.”

For the record, I completely disagree with Wikipedia’s “list of films featuring extraterrestrials.” Case in point: Wall-E is not an alien movie, it’s a love story and no one can convince me otherwise. But in relation to numerous other movie genres, alien movies are relatively unheralded – and for good reason. Long gone are the good old days of Sigourney Weaver battling seven foot monsters in space, or the young boy Elliot learning to love his friend E.T. (according to my mother, the only time she’s ever seen my dad cry).

Instead, we are forced to sit through films where the aliens are simply shown to us, leaving nothing to the imagination. And for the record remakes like Tom Cruise’sWar of the Worlds are not getting the job done. Besides, isn’t the point of alien movies to scare us and make us wonder?

While the film has yet to be released, The Fourth Kind looks as if it will make me wonder, and possibly scare me into sleeping with the lights on. Set in the town of Nome, Alaska, the film claims to be based on actual events. Specifically, the town itself is known for having a high number of missing people and reported alien abductions over the past several decades. These abductions are purportedly supported by archival footage. Milla Jovovich stars as psychotherapist Abigail Tyler – the supposed true life character who videotaped interviews with those that have been abducted.

So at this point I’m sure the skepticism is flying through the roof about this film. I mean, who actually believes in alien abductions? But that’s not the point. Although the trailer might be relatively surreptitious and unrevealing, it looks scary as hell. The majority of the trailer involves videotaped therapy sessions where the patients have “episodes” in which they relive their abductions in horrifically vivid detail. Seemingly harmless – but it was enough to have me running for cover.

Long story short, this has all the makings of an alien movie that makes you wonder. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying this is an Academy Award winner. But if you’re looking for a good thrill, or just a reason to re-ignite that quest for a higher life form, The Fourth Kind looks like it might be your cup of tea.

If you’re still not convinced, check out the trailer for yourself. Just don’t call me when you wet the bed.

The Angel's Game, by Carlos Ruiz Zafon

As promised, I've finally read The Angel's Game, the sequel/prequel to The Shadow of the Wind. I frankly couldn't stop raving about The Shadow of the Wind, but I don't have too much to say about The Angel's Game.

It's not that I didn't enjoy the book. On the contrary, I enjoyed it nearly as much as The Shadow of the Wind. However, had I not known it was written by Ruiz Zafon also, I might have just written it off as a (very good) imitation.

For the most part, it follows the same general outline of Shadow. A poor young man from Barcelona without a mother stumbles into a literary career through the benevolence of a rich man. This poor young man then falls in love with a beautiful but tragic woman, and such romance creates tension with the rich man. Angst and pain follow with a bittersweet ending and a touch of supernatural.

In The Angel's Game's case, this young man's name is David Martin and he writes bestselling crime novels, though he longs to write a magnus opus far different from his CV. Enter Andreas Corelli, a man (who may or may not be Lucifer) who commissions Martin to write a book creating an entirely new religion complete with a slew of myths. This deal between Martin and Corelli requires past promises to be cut, and people start being mysteriously murdered for that very purpose.

While this dark devil/religion/murder plot unfolds, so does one that is more personal to David. After moving into a decrepit yet beautiful old home, he uncovers a new tantalizing mystery involving the old typewriter that resides in his study as well a mysterious locked room with a false wall. As he begins to investigate, he finds himself pulled into a dark history that leads him right back to the business with Corelli.

And amidst all of this hullaballoo, David faces two female problems: The love of his life, Cristina, marries his benefactor and proceeds to lose her mind, and a pesky but bright aspiring writer named Isabella hires herself to be his assistant.

All in all, these elements add up to be a far more internal drama than the plot-driven Shadow of the Wind. So while I still contend that the two are quite similar, The Angel’s Game holds its own as a more other worldly drama.

For enthusiasts of The Shadow of the Wind, the role of the Sempere & Sons bookshop within The Angel’s Game is enough reason in itself to read, as well as the reappearance of the beloved Cemetery of Forgotten Books. Oh how I long to go there...

Top 5 Books of My Most Awkward Years (aka Middle School)

I'll be honest. Sometimes I just don't have time to read 5 books a week. So in lieu of a review (yup, that's poetry right there), I decided to spice it up with a little list of books that I just so happened to love in the middle school era.


1. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
If you have yet to read this little masterpiece by Dumas, I suggest you run to the book store immediately. Its combination of affairs, murders, and the revenge it incurs makes it a 19th century France soap opera. I have no idea why my conservative evangelical school let us read it but I'm not complaining.



2. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Yet another book of contention. But after reading it, you know why there's such a buzz around it. And you can even almost understand Demi Moore naming her daughter after the main character, Scout. A deftly told tale that's not only about race but about humanity, it must find a place on everyone's book shelf.


3. The Pearl by John Steinbeck
This is a deceptively small novella that ends up packing an unbelievable punch of morality. Kino starts out trying to save his son and ends up greedy and disappointed. Steinbeck skillfully wrote a fable that is probably more applicable to someone with a couple decades under their belt than someone who is 12.


4. "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe
Well this wasn't exactly assigned reading and it isn't technically a book... but when each student in the entire student body had to declaim a different 5 minute piece of literature I immediately went to this one on the recommendation of my mother. I think that my classmates suspected me of being a bit goth, but oh well, I'll just keep on quoting nevermore.


5. The Aeneid by Virgil
I can honestly remember staring at the cover of this book in 7th grade with not a clue about how to go about pronouncing "Aeneid." I have a feeling it came out "a-EHN-id." But pronunciation aside, this ancient (literally) text proved to be enthralling even when taught by my sort of ancient (figuratively) 7th grade teacher. Ever since I cannot help but have a soft spot for my girl Dido.

The 19th Wife, David Ebershoff

Ask anyone who knows me what my odd obsession is and the answer will come rapid fire: Mormons.

Naturally, that led me to the mecca of Mormon literature: Under the Banner of Heaven, by Jon Krakauer. Krakauer intertwines three threads: the tale of a contemporary murder mystery involving fundamentalist Mormons, a comprehensive history of the Mormon religion, and a look at the different extremist sects that are flourishing in North America. The book is phenomenal, and I still can't stop recommending it.

So when I heard about David Ebershoff's The 19th Wife, I knew I had to get my hands on it. Mormon lit in general isn't the easiest to come by, and Mormon fiction is even harder.

But, to my disappointment, the book read exactly like Under the Banner of Heaven.

There are two storylines in the book. One is a contemporary murder mystery. (Sound familiar?) The 19th wife of a murdered man in a fundamentalist sect is accused of his murder. Her son, Jordan, is a "lost boy" excommunicated from the sect, and he is determined to prove his mother innocent.

The other storyline follows the 19th wife of Brigham Young, a major figure in the Mormon church. This wife, Ann Eliza Young, rebelled against the practice of plural (or "celestial") marriage. She is an actual historical figure though Ebershoff fictionalizes her tale. Peppered in are bits of accurate history of the church. (Again, sound familiar?)

So while this book was well worth reading, I can't help but ask why Ebershoff didn't take a more original approach to this subject. Surely he consulted Krakauer's work for research... Hm.

But if you are looking to learn more about Mormons and want to do so with something less dense than Krakauer but more serious than Big Love, definitely pick this one up.

A Mercy, Toni Morrison

It’s easy to come to these two conclusions: Toni Morrison hates men. Toni Morrison hates white people. If you read her work with a certain slant, you could probably even support these two rather simplistic hypotheses. (And if you fit into either category, you may even slump away from the text feeling impossibly but inexplicably guilt-ridden.)

But Morrison is simply not that simple. Her works, to be cliché, are like onions. Maybe the world’s biggest onion. Peel one layer away, and then there’s another. And another, and another, and another. Pretty soon you are cringing with every meticulously chosen dagger of a word, but you just can’t stop reading.

I’ll make a little confession before I go on: I listened to this book on CD during my brief stint as a commuting bookseller. But I don’t think it counts as cheating since Morrison’s voice is far more powerful and haunting than the mousy one in my head. Her voice rolls over what can better be described as lyrics than words, singing the parts that are sweet (few) and drumming in the parts that are harrowing (many).

I still contend that Paradise is Morrison's best, but A Mercy is a close contender. (NYT disagrees.) It is told in the Paradise-like fashion, with chapters alternating perspectives in a tightly wound story. Unlike most of her works, which take place in the twentieth century, this one takes place in the early colonial years. Morrison, I think, seems more suited to the 1960s than the 1690s.

But what is most impressive in her rendering of the 1690s is what she does not do. It is a historical era that could easily lend itself to stereotypes and caricatures, and Morrison deftly and masterfully avoids them. Lena, an unfree Native American, is tragically beautiful yet commits deplorable acts. Sorrow, a red-headed floozy, proves a dedicated mother. Jacob Vaark, the man in charge of them all, despises the slave-trade but benefits from it. Florens, the black slave-girl whose story brings them all together, has a dreaming soul and yet is capable of bloody and frivolous sins.

With this cast of complicated characters, Morrison creates a masterpiece and maintains her place as one of America's greatest writers. A Mercy will surely join the ranks of the revered (though probably hotly contested) contemporary classics.

DVDs Have Chapters Too?

It is hard to argue against the fact that the average (and literate) person loves a good book. You would be hard pressed to find a more engaging and accessible source of entertainment to spark the imagination and get those neurons firing on all cylinders.

Imagine this scenario: Trudging through the front door after a long and cold day, grabbing your warm drink of choice (I prefer Irish coffee myself), and settling down by the fire to dive headfirst into that new crime thriller/ambiguously romantic novel you just picked up from Barnes and Noble. Sounds phenomenal, right?

Well, perhaps–unless you’re so brain-dead from the day’s activities that the words on the page look like Wingdings on acid. This is more akin to my scenario: After sifting through supply and demand curves and activity based costing systems (oh yes, those) for business school, the last thing I want to do is pick up a book of any sort.

What’s my alternative? Movies. While some head straight for the bookshelf, I click my way through the Internet to look for the next great cinematic adventure (or bust). Some need the comforting feeling of ink-laden paper in hands; my comfort comes via remote and DVD player. And while written literature will forever be the staple of storytelling throughout the world, let’s be honest – Dickens, Hemingway and Tolstoy don’t come in high definition.

So from time to time I’ll be checking out trailers and reviews for upcoming flicks, as well as those that have come and gone. But don’t worry–if I decide to dim the lights, fire up the popcorn and take the plunge, you’ll be the first to know.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson

I bet that if you are in a social circle that even looks askance at books, you’ve heard a thousand times over that you must, must, must read Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

This (deserved) international success is somewhat bittersweet for on Larsson's Millenium trilogy, of which this is the first. Larsson, a sci-fi fanatic, wrote just these three crime thrillers before he died in 2004 at the age of 50. The entire trilogy was published posthumously to a flurry of legal battles stemming from his will. But thank goodness most of the bitterness is gone... The last in the trilogy is arriving on American shores on Halloween.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, we’ve got to tackle The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. The “heroine” is unlike any other. In fact, the illicit drug homonym of heroine would probably describe Lisbeth Salander a bit better. She is all sorts of screwy but has just enough humanity to make the reader love her.

Before Lisbeth is introduced, the reader is drawn into a web of financial intrigue, which I could have done without. In fact, the first 100 pages and the last 100 pages could have been deleted, but I suppose some people like finance.

The real meat of the novel takes place in the (ice cold) heart of Sweden. It follows Mikael Blomkvist, a journalist reeling from a disgraced image from that whole financial problem. He takes on a freelance mission to write a biography of a corporate powerhouse of a family. Surreptitiously, at one member’s behest, he investigates the disappearance and presume murder of the patriarch's niece. Naturally, he encounters a whole bunch of crazies in that family.

What ensues is a perfect mixture of detective work, illicit romance, and violent intrigue with a perfect amount of Criminal Minds and Law and Order: SVU tossed in. And it doesn't deliver a solution that comes out of left field. If you pay close attention, you can probably fit most of the pieces together as Blomkvist simultaneously does so. The full truth, however, is absolutely startling when revealed.

Is The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo great literature? Nope, definitely not. But it’s smart, it’s original, and it’s one hell of a read. I’ll be getting my hands on the sequel pretty quickly.