The Day of the Locust (Reaction)

       Right away, the title of this novel, The Day of the Locust, conjures Biblical imagery. Perhaps this imagery is most effective on someone brought up in a fairly religious environment as I was, but the reference to the plague of locusts that God sires in the Bible immediately made me expect that this book would at least be dark, if not apocalyptic. Sure enough, the horrific violence sometimes visible in Todd Hackett's mind, as well as the gruesome cockfight, reflect a setting for the novel in which morality is questionable at best. This may be a typically teenage thing for me to pick up on as well, but the main character's name, Homer Simpson, kept creating strange connections in my mind, comparing the book's protagonist's occasionally shady judgment with the cartoon character's. Whether this novel was the origin of Homer Simpson's name in the show, I don't know, but nonetheless at times it seems a strangely apt comparison.

Asterios Polyp (Reaction)

       As was discussed in the class, Asterios Polyp is rather noteworthy, even ignoring the story entirely, in that it seems to be exclusively a graphic novel. Even without words, it is abundantly clear that this story could be told in no other medium; the subtleties in the book aren't just afterthoughts, such as the differing fonts for each character's speech, or characters breaking down into their most reflective art styles during arguments. They are integral to the plot of the story; the characters' personalities could not be displayed in an equally detailed fashion in any other medium without drastic alteration of the story. As for the story itself, Asterios Polyp manages to tell a tale which is simultaneously convoluted yet simple; it is the story of a man struggling with his own dual nature, often reflected in his "twin brother." Yet, the dialogue is so dense, the characters' philosophies so complicated yet each so meaningful, that this is a book which demands multiple reads to fully comprehend the scale of the characters' motivations, as well as the innumerable subtleties in the chameleonic art style.

Oryx and Crake (Reaction)

        I've always had something of a soft spot for dystopian novels, though I could never put a finger on why. Maybe it's that the cynic in me wants the horrible future portrayed in works like Oryx and Crake to come true, or maybe it's simply cathartic release by comparison, as I thank my lucky stars that the world isn't that bad just yet. Either way, Oryx and Crake scratched my dystopian itch rather nicely; it displays a future gone on technological overload, a populace which has simultaneously grown so perverse in its tastes--the two protagonists' habitual viewing of child pornography comes to mind--while growing excessively conservative in certain other aspects, such as Crake's eventual project as a bioengineer, the Crakers, which would eliminate all aspects of "wrongdoing" which Crake perceives in the human race.  As a whole the novel reflects a society that has gone insane with oversaturation of media. Morals have disappeared, and the story as a whole is rather alarming.

Pattern Recognition (Reaction)

      Just a simple plot summary reveals Pattern Recognition to be a fairly original concept; the idea that a character could be simultaneously repulsed by, yet supernaturally gifted at a task so arbitrary as advertising is intriguing. The novel takes this concept even farther; it serves as an overall reflection of our society's tendency to dispatch our heroes as quickly as we create new ones, or perhaps even faster. Cayce Pollard's responsibilities for spotting phenomena before they occur serve as a fascinating backdrop for the main story, which is a bizarrely anarchic and well-constructed commentary on the lightning speed of today's pop culture.

The Wizard of Oz (Reaction)

        L. Frank Baum's classic children's novel has been dragged through so many interpretations, so many reimaginings and remakes of those adaptations, that it is refreshing in a way to read the original novel. As a person who watched numerous versions of the story as a child, most bizarrely a TV-only anime version, the story is so familiar and engrained into my psyche that even talking about it is something of a difficult task. Whether or not it functions as an allegory for capitalism, or whether the character's flaws are more reflective of societal problems as a whole, seems irrelevant to debate. My own perspective on it is simplistic, the way I viewed it as a kid; perhaps this is a cheap, uneducated way to go about it, but certain arguments which propose The Wizard of Oz's inherent anti-capitalist intent read so convoluted that it seems you could reinterpret any work of literature to similar purpose. To me, The Wizard of Oz is an unforgettable story, no strings attached. Whether it was envisioned that way is doubtable, but also entirely unimportant.

Casino Royale (revision)

            Casino Royale, the first James Bond novel published by Ian Fleming in 1953, is highly reflective of the environment in which it was released. The character of James Bond, 007 was, to a certain degree, autobiographical—Ian Fleming himself shared many of Bond’s tendencies, especially his womanizing—and Bond’s history with British Naval Intelligence Fleming’s own. As for the novel itself, Casino Royale’s origins are important in that they reflected the post-World War II environment, as well as established a character that would be, far and away, the most recognizable in their genre.

            The basic backstory is certainly influenced by the ever-rising tide of the Cold War; the primary antagonist, Le Chiffre, has a background with Soviet Russia. As a whole, the story seems to encapsulate the kind of paranoia that the Cold War engendered, albeit in a different context; in this book the uncertainty took place in a card game, where in real life it took place through the mutual distrust of nations.
In addition, gender roles are easily observed to be indicative of the times. James Bond views women as interference, minor distractions to his job; he only indulges them on purely physical levels. Even when playing the role of the knight in shining armor rescuing Vesper, her assigned sidekick, it comes across as more self-serving than anything; his chivalry is purely incidental, and secondary to constantly establishing his own manhood. The torture scene bears elements of this as well; to any male reader the damage done to Bond's genitals is truly horrifying. Despite his unwavering refusal to meet Le Chiffre's demands, he also is quite concerned about his ability to perform sexually. This is just about Vesper's biggest role in the story; sexual temptation and getting kidnapped. The damsel in distress is by no means an obsolete concept these days, but it has certainly become trite by now and to many in the potential audience, it is alienating.

            In addition, the idealized setting in the novel is markedly indicative of the 50’s; dress is constantly formal, and cigarettes and alcohol are highly pervasive in the culture. A common stereotype of the period was the bizarre prevalence of business suits and dresses; an image which, if Casino Royale is anything to go by, is hardly unfounded. While these idealistic elements are certainly present today—the added “coolness” of a cigarette most prominently—the overall atmosphere seems a bit like a college campus with a strict formal dress code.

            Casino Royale held up the original novel beautifully as a movie, but it was also changed somewhat; Bond's reluctance in the original novel about his organization is less prevalent in the movie. Additionally, while James Bond has always been something of a misogynistic prick in the movies, the movie tones him down considerably from his version in the novels, which is only natural given the changing times.

Final Fantasy IX

            

             Final Fantasy IX is an RPG, released for the PlayStation in 2000. On the heels of Final Fantasy VII and VIII, Final Fantasy IX saw less commercial success due to the advent of the PlayStation 2, and the game's difficulty to market; IX represented something of a return to form for Final Fantasy, a revisiting of the more medieval and fantastical settings of the earlier games which the series had been drifting away from for some time now. Yet, despite the bright colors and adorable characters, the story was in many ways deeper and darker than anything that had preceded it.

            The leading character is Zidane, a thief who is a member of a performing theater troupe called Tantalus. Tantalus is given the assignment to kidnap Princess Garnet of Alexandria--why they have been given this task is initially unclear, but it is eventually revealed that Garnet's uncle Cid was concerned about Garnet's safety amidst her mother Queen Brahne's increasingly erratic and violent behavior, and so he ordered the kidnapping, although Garnet had been devising a way to escape for some time. Along the way back to Cid's kingdom of Lindblum, they meet Vivi, who is a small, young Black Mage; he is very compassionate and wise beyond his years, but also shy, worrisome, and frequently full of self-doubt. The rest of the plot is essentially the group's journey to discover what was behind Brahne's sudden violent streak, which turns out to be a maniacal plot conceived by characters named Kuja and Garland which involves the destruction of Gaia, the home planet of all the main characters.

            At its core, the game is about self-discovery and finding a place to call home. Each of the three most primary characters--Zidane, Garnet, and Vivi--has a mysterious past, and they frequently struggle with their own identities. Zidane, despite his happy-go-lucky, joking demeanor, is eventually revealed to be a genetic weapon created by Garland to destroy all life on Gaia. Vivi, meanwhile, is one of many Black Mages created as Alexandria's makeshift army with which they conquer many sovereign nations, a plan he never subscribes to. Garnet was born into a summoners' tribe, but her true mother died at a very early age, and so she was raised under Queen Brahne. Each of the three struggle with their pasts throughout the entire game; Zidane can remember no childhood or family beyond his friends in Tantalus, and despite his best efforts to live in the moment, this uncertainty tears away at him from inside. The same could be said for Vivi; in the aftermath of Alexandria's Black Mage killing sprees, almost every town the group goes to sees the kind and innocent Vivi as a monster, and he is only left to wonder why. Zidane acts as a big brother figure to Vivi, helping him sort through his worries and self-confidence issues. This is eerily reflective of their roles as soldiers; Zidane, destroyer of worlds is instructing Vivi, a mindless soldier. Vivi's mortality is an issue he struggles with frequently, as it is revealed that all Black Mage soldiers die after a predetermined period of time. However, Vivi is a prototype, meaning his life span is uncertain; overall the plot is full of this ambiguity and uncertainty.

            This comes to a head at the very end of the game; Kuja and Garland have been defeated, but it seems that the main group has been annihilated as well; however, the absolute final boss of the game is Necron. He comes from absolutely nowhere, has no prior mention in the storyline, and is bar none the hardest of the primary bosses. However, the game hints that this is not a literal fight, but a struggle within the characters to hang on to their will to live, despite the fact that they have every reason to be frustrated and fed up with their horrible backgrounds. This is why this fight is the hardest; it represents Zidane's struggle to live normally with the knowledge that he was created to be an angel of death, Vivi's struggle to maintain a positive attitude despite his own impending death, and Garnet's struggle to hold on to those she loves even while forced into a royal agenda.

            The epilogue is where the story comes to a head; it is a speech delivered by an unseen narrator, thanking his friends for everything they have taught him. However, the fact that the scenes which play under the speech exclude one character, as well as the kindly nature of the words leave only one conclusion: Vivi has died. The game leaves you feeling inspired to live your life while treasuring every friend you have; it has a fantastic narrative quality and, for me playing it as a  kid, it had a profound effect.