Always a bridesmaid...
We had two forensics (speech and drama) meets this week, and my squad scored second at both.
2nd!
I'm happy, of course, but we could have won both. We lost by a mere 5 points on Saturday (163-158). Granted, there were 14 teams so 2nd is pretty good.
What does this have to do with writing? Not much, only to explain I didn't spend much time writing. I did manage to finish edits on "Lullaby" a 2,500 word fantasy piece which I sent, appropriately, to Fantasy for quick rejection. It has since joined the ranks of slush piles everywhere.
Maybe I can get something done tonight...maybe.
Happy writing, folks.
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Splitting Hairs?
After writing yesterday's post, I did a quick Google search for "dark magical realism". I wanted to be sure I wasn't misusing the term or lost in literary left field. The search produced 127 hits (that is with quotation marks around the phrase...the only way to find that exact search string).
Huh?
One of the sites referred to a book about Neil Gaiman's work on Sandman. Okay...not exactly what I think of when I use the phrase "dark magical realism". Gaiman's Sandman work leaned heavily on mythology. The first two sites on the list didn't even refer to the phrase intact. (e.g. a sentence ended with the word "dark" and "magical realism" started the next sentence)
Now I know the modifier "dark" isn't necessary. Magical realism has become a large enough literary umbrella that it has plenty of space for darkness. But I do think there is an important difference between a story like Julio Cortázar's "House Taken Over" (what I would consider a seminal work of dark magical realism) and Márquez's "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings". One instills a quiet sense of discomfort; the other, wonder.
Some argue that magical realism doesn't exist at all...it's just another name for fantasy. (Terry Pratchett was quoted as saying "[magic realism] is like a polite way of saying you write fantasy.")
I disagree. Fantasy means something to people, even in rule-bending contemporary fantasy. Personally, I expect fantastical creatures or worlds or at least the suggestion of those things. Magical realism doesn't go so far...at least not in my understanding. It is more subtle, and in being so, more strange. I can suspend my disbelief just that much more when a story makes subtle changes to my real world. When those changes are dark, I find it even more unsettling. Vampires don't scare me. Having something never mentioned by name take over my house, does.
Maybe I'm just splitting genre hairs. Mostly, the lack of "dark magical realism" hits on Google surprised me.
Huh?
One of the sites referred to a book about Neil Gaiman's work on Sandman. Okay...not exactly what I think of when I use the phrase "dark magical realism". Gaiman's Sandman work leaned heavily on mythology. The first two sites on the list didn't even refer to the phrase intact. (e.g. a sentence ended with the word "dark" and "magical realism" started the next sentence)
Now I know the modifier "dark" isn't necessary. Magical realism has become a large enough literary umbrella that it has plenty of space for darkness. But I do think there is an important difference between a story like Julio Cortázar's "House Taken Over" (what I would consider a seminal work of dark magical realism) and Márquez's "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings". One instills a quiet sense of discomfort; the other, wonder.
Some argue that magical realism doesn't exist at all...it's just another name for fantasy. (Terry Pratchett was quoted as saying "[magic realism] is like a polite way of saying you write fantasy.")
I disagree. Fantasy means something to people, even in rule-bending contemporary fantasy. Personally, I expect fantastical creatures or worlds or at least the suggestion of those things. Magical realism doesn't go so far...at least not in my understanding. It is more subtle, and in being so, more strange. I can suspend my disbelief just that much more when a story makes subtle changes to my real world. When those changes are dark, I find it even more unsettling. Vampires don't scare me. Having something never mentioned by name take over my house, does.
Maybe I'm just splitting genre hairs. Mostly, the lack of "dark magical realism" hits on Google surprised me.
Monday, March 31, 2008
I still love The Black Hole
The Black Hole (1979) as a classic monster film?
On my latest viewing of The Black Hole (a Disney--yes Disney--space adventure released in 1979) I focused on the dark, somewhat gothic atmosphere of the set, oddball design of the robots, and strange performance by Maximilian Schell as the mad Dr. Reinhardt. The film has a wonderful score and effective camera work that adds to the haunting feel. It may be a very uncomfortable space opera with a second rate script and questionable science, but the visuals and themes make this much more. It deserves to be considered a classic cult monster movie.
Ignore the weird, campy moments (e.g., ESP connection with robots--let alone robots voiced by Roddy McDowall and Slim Pickens). Watch for the truly creepy moments--the slow, mounting realization that the Cygnus I's crew was murdered and turned into some kind of zombie/cyborg hybrid by the mad Dr. Reinhardt. The John Barry score is powerful and mysterious, and enhances key moments in the film.The real monster in this film is Maximilian: a multi-armed, red giant of a robot who has a sinister glow from his "eye"--the corners of which turn slightly up to a point like the horns of a Faustian devil.
It is Maximilian that shreds Anthony Perkin's character with his spinning blades, and Maximilian "glances" back at his supposed master Dr. Reinhardt as the mad doctor is crushed by a giant view screen--if the robot had a mouth, you could almost see the slight curl of a smile. Add the surreal man/monster moment in the inferno at the end of the movie, and Maximilian becomes the embodiment of evil. The Black Hole has some flaws--but the "monsters," the look of the Cygnus--sparse and dark, along with the sweeping camera reminiscent of moments from Dracula (Universal 1931) make this movie a curiosity that no monster fan should miss. Even if it is from Disney.
On my latest viewing of The Black Hole (a Disney--yes Disney--space adventure released in 1979) I focused on the dark, somewhat gothic atmosphere of the set, oddball design of the robots, and strange performance by Maximilian Schell as the mad Dr. Reinhardt. The film has a wonderful score and effective camera work that adds to the haunting feel. It may be a very uncomfortable space opera with a second rate script and questionable science, but the visuals and themes make this much more. It deserves to be considered a classic cult monster movie.
Ignore the weird, campy moments (e.g., ESP connection with robots--let alone robots voiced by Roddy McDowall and Slim Pickens). Watch for the truly creepy moments--the slow, mounting realization that the Cygnus I's crew was murdered and turned into some kind of zombie/cyborg hybrid by the mad Dr. Reinhardt. The John Barry score is powerful and mysterious, and enhances key moments in the film.The real monster in this film is Maximilian: a multi-armed, red giant of a robot who has a sinister glow from his "eye"--the corners of which turn slightly up to a point like the horns of a Faustian devil.
It is Maximilian that shreds Anthony Perkin's character with his spinning blades, and Maximilian "glances" back at his supposed master Dr. Reinhardt as the mad doctor is crushed by a giant view screen--if the robot had a mouth, you could almost see the slight curl of a smile. Add the surreal man/monster moment in the inferno at the end of the movie, and Maximilian becomes the embodiment of evil. The Black Hole has some flaws--but the "monsters," the look of the Cygnus--sparse and dark, along with the sweeping camera reminiscent of moments from Dracula (Universal 1931) make this movie a curiosity that no monster fan should miss. Even if it is from Disney.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)