Quick-ish impressions on some videos I've recently watched and thought about. All of these probably count as Mega-spoilers.
Logan's Run
This is Dave's favorite movie, you know. It's more or less what I expected, a pre-Star Wars 1970's sci-fi movie with lots of social and environmental messages in a cheesy package.
One thing that makes this one sort of unique is that, while this future would probably be classified as "dystopian," it certainly LOOKS much nicer than the world we have now. There isn't the omnipresent pollution of "Soylent Green," nor the invasive fascism of "1984." It is, as the opening monologue tells us, a world built for pleasure, and other than the little matter of everyone being killed once they reach 30, it seems nearly ideal.
To me, this made the world much more interesting than Soylent Green, because it presents a choice. Granted, it's a rather cliched choice, of freedom versus comfort, but an interesting one nontheless.
It's a fun exercise to watch this movie and think of the protagonists as villains. They act unilaterally to destroy the base and force everyone to join them in the wild, whether they want to or not. And, when you think about it, the base served a valuable purpose. It was constructed because the world grew too polluted; by the time they get out, extinct species are still gone, but the air and water are once again clean. Letting the humans back out will start the cycle again, and before too long they'll probably be killing the planet once again.
Oh, and I personally felt that the plot about killing (erm, "renewing") people once they reached 30 was a theme much better addressed twenty years later in an episode of "Star Trek: The Next Generation." That episode was almost certainly an homage to this movie, but I remember it being much tighter and more compelling.
This would be a good movie if you're interested in the history of socially conscious science fiction. Otherwise, not so much.
Cool Hand Luke
Yet another 70's (I think...) classic. I'm not sure when I first heard of it, but it's one of the favorite movies of Mr. Piro, one of my wonderful high-school English teachers. It's one of those cultural touchstones, and while watching it I suddenly got all sorts of references that had popped up in The Simpsons and elsewhere; at the same time, it was a bit of a letdown, as the movie itself just didn't feel all that exciting. It's really a classic case of having a movie that's revolutionary for its time and re-shapes everything that follows, to the point where later generations find it derivative of what came after. I'm sure Paul Newman's attitude was unusual and alluring at the time, but now, it's almost expected of a lead.
The interesting, and tragic, aspect of this picture is watching Luke's transformation. He starts as incredibly sanguine, equally complacent towards jail, the rules and his fellow inmates. He isn't a rebel like James Dean or Marlon Brando, he's more of a postmodern hipster who sneers at everything without deigning to fight back.
That changes after the extremely arbitrary and callous way that his captors put him in "the hole" after his mother dies. Ironically, though he was never a flight risk before, he becomes one once they treat him like one. This version of Luke is no longer content to drift along, and he takes surprising initiatives.
I thought it was an interesting choice of the filmmakers to always show Luke's escapes as they are happening, but to only hear about his recapture. This creates tension and aligns us with the chain gang, so we feel the same elation at his escape and the same surprise and despair when he is brought back.
The final act of the movie is actually painful to watch, as Luke is finally broken, then makes a last heroic run. It includes his bellowing roar, "Stop feeding off of me!", which for me is the most resonant part of the film... his fellow inmates won't let him be what he is, a loner, and all his attempts to establish individuality have been sort of tribally claimed by the rest. It's incredibly fitting that one of the last lines of the movie is Luke's taunting impersonation of the Captain: "What we've got here is a failure to communicate!" Hearing that made me realize that communication really is a two-way street, not just an acknowledgement of orders, so both he and the captain were really right on this point.
This falls into the class of movie that's almost inevitably disappointing, just because it's been built up so much over time. But, Newman's performance brings a lot to the table, and there are certain people you'll impress just by mentioning that you've seen this.
Oh, and I just looked it up: the movie came out in 1967. That seems more appropriate somehow, sort of an establishment of the counterculture, if that makes any sense at all.
Ghost World
All I knew when I picked this up was that Steve Buscemi played a record collector. I think I was subconsciously expecting something like "High Fidelity"; what I ended up with was a lot closer to Linklater's "Slackers" or Smith's "Clerks." Not that I'm complaining or anything, it was still good, but definitely one of those painful-funny rather than laugh-out-loud movies.
Buscemi was great, but I was impressed all around by the cast's qualities. The leads are Thora Birch, from American Beauty, and a still-to-be-discovered Scarlett Johanson. There is a brief, but terrific, cameo by David Cross. Even the actors I don't recognize are good across the board.
What's the movie "about"? On the most immediate level it's another paen to Generation X coming of age; the young leads graduate high school and struggle with what to do with their lives. One grudgingly conforms, getting a job and searching for an apartment, and ends the movie on the path to the grown-up world she claims to hate. The other claims to want all the grown-up stuff - living away from parents, economic independence - but is unable to mount any serious plan to attain these things. Her pattern throughout the movie is to want whatever she doesn't have, and when it seems like she might get it, move on to something else. Watching the movie I got the impression that what she was scared of was committment, but I'm far from certain that's the intended way to read it.
More generally, the movie is about identity. This is where Buscemi's character really shines: is he a geek through-and-through? Can he become attractive to women and still be the same? All the relationships in the film feel fragile, and when one character starts to change, their connections with others are broken. Read in this way, the movie is about Thora deciding how to define herself. She experiments with punk rock but doesn't like the reception she gets, so she tries something else. As long as she's trying on identities, she's in control and wants to move forward; however, when others start acknowledging her new identity, it becomes confining and she tries to shake it off.
In a peculiar way, I am reminded of Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials." In Lyra's world, every person has a daemon. When they are young the daemons are flexible and can assume any shape they want; when they grow up, the daemons become fixed in the shape best corresponding with their human. This is really the same thing that's happening in this movie: Thora doesn't want to stop shifting, and though she would vehemently deny it, she likes the lack of responsibility that a child posesses. She is being thrust into a world she claims to want but isn't ready for.
Kung Fu Hustle
What's to say, really? It's a kung-fu comedy movie. If that sounds appealing to you, you'll enjoy it. If it sounds strange or dumb, you won't.
I still need to see Shaolin Soccer, Stephen Chow's previous movie which some people (not all) think is better than this. This film is a mishmash of fighting scenes, broad parody and slapstick comedy. I was struck by how many homages it contains to American cinema, such as Gump's floating feather and quotations from "Gone with the Wind." What I'm getting at is that this isn't a coherent movie, and if you try to view it as a quest movie or a revenge flick or a love story you'll be disappointed. If you just want a good time, well, expect to find one.
I loved the fact there was actual choreography in ths movie. Usually in a martial-arts movie "choreography" just means stage fighting, but here we got to see some cool dance moves from the Axe Gang.
I really wish I had gotten to see this one in the theater; it was still a lot of fun to watch, but far less impressive on my TV than it would've been on the big screen.
This isn't knocking Kill Bill off its pedestal or anything, but it was still an enjoyable way to pass the time. Generally recommended.
A History of Violence
Another one I wanted to see in the theater, and had to settle for a bootleg copy on my TV. This was a phenomenal movie. Granted, I've only seen 2/5 of the Oscar-nominated films, but I think it's a shame this one didn't get the nod.
I saw this movie mainly because I think Viggo Mortensen is awesome. The uniformly good reviews and intriguing subject matter sealed the deal. Still, it was more or less a flop, and disappeared from theaters before I could make it in.
This is kind of another movie about identity. Joey has deliberately shed his old identity and built a new life as Tom. The whole middle third of the movie feels very existential to me: is Tom defined by what he DOES, or what he DID? Is there an underlying essence to Tom that he has somehow covered up? Basically, should we view a decade of good, wholesome fathering as an intrinsic part of his identity, or something he does alien to what he is?
The other theme is right there in the title, violence. When I first heard the title, I thought the emphasis was on "history". In other words, a sort of academic examination of past incidents of violence through human history. Several months later, while reading an unrelated story in the newspaper, I suddenly remembered that the phrase "a history of violence" is often attached to criminals in news stories. It's something someone HAS, rather than something they're IN. "Guido Marchusi has a history of violence" means that Guido has done violent things in the past.
When actually watching the movie, a third interpretation came to mind. It was closer to my first definition but more personal like the second, and puts the emphasis on "violence". Rather than "A History of Violence," it could be called "Tom's History of Violence," as opposed to his history of love. All those horrible things Johnny did are still there; you can change your future, but you can't change your history. All you can do is lie and cover it up, but it's still there and will continue to touch you.
The film isn't just about violence's potency; it also examines the nature of violence itself. I'd need to watch the movie again to be sure, but I think every time Tom acts violently, it's always in retaliation. He attacks the thugs after they've taken hostages; he hits his son after his son insults him; he chokes his wife after she strikes him; he kills the henchmen after they try to garrot him. There is something very primal in us that seeks to react violently when someone harms us or our loved ones; and of course, once we respond, the victim will become the attacker, and so on, until one party stops the cycle or one side is dead. And this seems natural to us; as the audience, our sympathy is with the victim, and we believe their retaliation is justified.
Anyone who watches movies sees this played out everywhere. Whenever the villain fights the good guy, he almost always starts off by hurting him. Once the good guy has been hit (preferably by an unfair shot), everything is fair game, and he can whale on the villain as much as he wants. But you need that initial trigger to get things going, or else the audience will feel uneasy about the hero taking the initiative in fighting or killing the villain.
The director is Canadian, and I can't help but wonder how much he thinks he is showing American attitudes towards violence rather than human attitudes. The excesses are distinctly American, even if the impulses are human. I think there's something in our culture that loves conflict; citzens of other nations may be just as violent, but we seem to celebrate it in a way many others do not. Other reviews have talked about this a lot, but one of the great achievements of AHOV is the way the movie causes the viewer to start thinking about their own relationship to the violence on the screen. We want to cheer when Tom shoots at the thug after being stabbed in the foot, even though we are repulsed by the sight of the man with his face blown away. This movie presents violence in all its gory splendor, much as Tarantino does, but lingers over the consequences in a way that builds unease. I think we Americans love to see guns shooting and punches landing, but are less enthusiastic about sucking chest wounds and torn tendons. We love violence but not sadism.
I think, though, that the movie gives itself an out: if you wanted to, you could watch it as the very thing it challenges, a gory mystery and revenge flick. It wouldn't take that much effort to turn off your mind and cheer Tom as he takes on the bad guys. However, people will be best rewarded if they question the movie while they are watching it. I highly recommend this movie, and am considering placing it atop my list for best movies of 2005. (Yeah, I didn't see that many movies last year. So what?)
Top 5
Just off the top of my head, and I may be forgetting something altogether. These are movies that were released in the US in 2005 whether I saw them during that year or not. Criteria is just that I think it was a "good" movie, as opposed to necessarily being "fun" or "enlightening."
1. A History of Violence
2. Howl's Moving Castle
3. The 40 Year Old Virgin
4. Good Night, And Good Luck
5. Sin City
Movies are good. I feel awkward about going to a theater by myself (did it for #2, #3 and #5 on this list), and I don't really have a group here to do movies with, so I end up seeing much less than I'd like. This does have some benefits - there are always enough good movies "on the list" that I'm never tempted to see a mediocre movie, so the quality of my cinematic experience is high, though the quantity may be low. I don't really have any specific plans to address this in the future. I trust my friends and several specific critics to make good recommendations, and try to make it to them when I can. Here's hoping for more good movies in 2006!
UPDATE 6/19/06: Agh, I just realized I left off Serenity! I'm sorry. That movie-going experience was probably #1 on the list - the preview screening crew was phenomenal, and it was a wonderful movie and a great coda to one of the best seasons of sci-fi ever. It terms of how "good" it is, I'd probably put it at #3 - nothing against the movie, it was excellent, but A History of Violence and Howl's Moving Castle were transcendent.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Sunday, February 05, 2006
There's a Bloodmoon on the rise
More than six months after I started playing Morrowind, I've beaten the final official expansion pack: Bloodmoon. While the storyline wasn't as compelling as Morrowind's main quest or Tribunal, it still offered some good gameplay enhancements that made it worthwhile.
Bloodmoon takes place on Solstheim, a Greenland-esque island mainly covered in ice and tundra. Incidentally, what is it with fantasy RPG franchises and snowy expansions? First we had "Baldur's Gate: Icewind Dale," now we have this. Anyways. On the whole the terrain looks more attractive on Solstheim than on the mainland, maybe because it's harder to mess up snow than to mess up mountains or trees (though Solstheim has both of these as well).
One big change for this was that, in addition to playing the expansion, I was also playing with several fan-created plugins. The Elder Scrolls series has a wonderful history of releasing its own development tools to the player community, and as a result, there's an incredible plethora of mods available for it. I'm not exaggerating; go to a place like Planet Elder Scrolls and look at the mods available for download: more than 3500 by my count. A lot of them are simple little patches, perhaps adding a new set of armor or a new race to the game. Many, though, are far more ambitious, changing the core behavior of the game or acting as standalone expansions.
The most impressive ones to me were "Better Bodies" and "Better Faces." I really, really wish I had installed these before starting to play the game in the first place, as it makes the inhabitants of Morrowind look much more like actual living creatures and less like hideous paper dolls.
What I liked most about the expansion was the strong Nordic flavor to it. The ebb and flow of the main quest is vaguely reminiscent of something like Beowulf, with mysterious monsters attacking from the darkness eventually being confronted in their lairs. There's also a continuation of the assimilation theme that is so common in all of TES; this time you must integrate with the Skaal tribe, an ancient clan of Nords who have held this island for generations. Again, this has a Northern feel about it; the plane between the physical world and the spiritual world is thin, and you prove your worth to the tribe by demonstrating your ability to face spiritual danger.
As always, there are more sidequests than main quests, though here the ratio is probably 2:1 rather than 5:1. (I've grown convinced that you could probably beat the main quest of Morrowind in a single afternoon if you cheated to give yourself all the stats, spells and items you need, yet it still took me several months of obsessive playing to rise through the ranks, gradually define and build up my character, investigate the living mythology and eventually confront Dagoth Ur.) The sidequests are pretty rote. There's a new faction here, the East Empire Trading Company. These quests are also of middling creativity, but what's really cool is seeing the EETC colony grow as you continue to help it out; it starts as just a few people standing around in the woods, and ends up as an impressively large, functioning community and mine.
Perhaps inevitably, the end of the main quest is a bit anti-climactic. (Spoiler alert.) After all, how do you top defeating Dagoth Ur and literally killing a goddess? The main villain here, whose name is something like Hircene, has a cool ominous background/prophecy, but is basically just a Daedra who appears once every age to, um, kill some people. It turns out that this time around he has his eye on you and three other people. So, either kill him, or you'll be dead! Which is a good motivation, I guess, but it feels pretty insular; you really aren't helping anyone besides yourself.
Now, it does do some stuff with werewolves. They're the only enemy in the whole game that actually impressed me. (Ascended Sleepers were a cool idea but impossible to take seriously.) They're fast and incredibly powerful. What's worst is when they hunt in packs; it's kind of chilling to hear a howl and then suddenly be attacked from four sides. There's a great attack/dream sequence, where you lie down in bed, then wake up surrounded by werewolves. I immediately pressed F and started swinging my mouse arround, but there was no response. It took a few minutes for my brain to register that they weren't actually attacking me, I was that strongly conditioned to fear them.
And the endgame is by far the most difficult part of the game. Well, not the literal final two battles; all boss battles are pretty easy because you can just do some summoning and carelessly drink all your potions. The two stages before that, though, were crazy hard; you navigate an extremely narrow maze filled with werewolves. The reason WHY this is hard is because you need to kill every single one of those beasts, since it's too narrow to sneak around them; each one probably takes 20-30 or so hits from a Daedric Wakazashi to kill; and as a result my weapons were almost totally blunted by the time I got through the first of the two levels. I was considering going way back to an earlier save just so I could stock up on everything before starting the endgame. This was the first time in any of the games that I've actually regretted not taking Armorer skill.
So, that's that. There are still a few EETC missions I could do, and I ought to report back to the inventor in Ald'ruhn about how his expedition went. I'm even more tempted to check out one of the highly-rated community expansions. Realistically, though, I think I'll declare this to be a good stopping point and will wait for Oblivion.
Which is another topic altogether. Now that the system requirements have been released, I'm going to need to decide how to approach getting this game. Not to put too fine a point on it, I'm about 1/3 behind where I need to be on all fronts: a 2Ghz CPU instead of 3; 768MB of RAM instead of 1GB; and a 6600 instead of a 6800 video card. A lot of people would point out that I could get an XBox 360 for less money than a top-of-the-line video card. Very true, but I have moral issues with getting a 360, plus Oblivion's the only game I'm really interested in for it, while a PC would let me do more stuff. Right now I'm contemplating doing something like I did for Morrowind: wait until 4 years after it is released, then pick it up in a cheap bundle and find that it runs effortlessly on my PC. Best of all, that'll give them a chance to patch up the game and the mod community will further buff out any annoying aspects of the game. RPGs probably age better than any other genre; I recently replayed FFVII since I never got Vincent the first time through, and was impressed again by the power that game packs. Oblivion is going to wow lots of people on the technical front when it is released later this year, but I'm content to wait and allow it to wow me with its story and atmosphere.
Bloodmoon takes place on Solstheim, a Greenland-esque island mainly covered in ice and tundra. Incidentally, what is it with fantasy RPG franchises and snowy expansions? First we had "Baldur's Gate: Icewind Dale," now we have this. Anyways. On the whole the terrain looks more attractive on Solstheim than on the mainland, maybe because it's harder to mess up snow than to mess up mountains or trees (though Solstheim has both of these as well).
One big change for this was that, in addition to playing the expansion, I was also playing with several fan-created plugins. The Elder Scrolls series has a wonderful history of releasing its own development tools to the player community, and as a result, there's an incredible plethora of mods available for it. I'm not exaggerating; go to a place like Planet Elder Scrolls and look at the mods available for download: more than 3500 by my count. A lot of them are simple little patches, perhaps adding a new set of armor or a new race to the game. Many, though, are far more ambitious, changing the core behavior of the game or acting as standalone expansions.
The most impressive ones to me were "Better Bodies" and "Better Faces." I really, really wish I had installed these before starting to play the game in the first place, as it makes the inhabitants of Morrowind look much more like actual living creatures and less like hideous paper dolls.
What I liked most about the expansion was the strong Nordic flavor to it. The ebb and flow of the main quest is vaguely reminiscent of something like Beowulf, with mysterious monsters attacking from the darkness eventually being confronted in their lairs. There's also a continuation of the assimilation theme that is so common in all of TES; this time you must integrate with the Skaal tribe, an ancient clan of Nords who have held this island for generations. Again, this has a Northern feel about it; the plane between the physical world and the spiritual world is thin, and you prove your worth to the tribe by demonstrating your ability to face spiritual danger.
As always, there are more sidequests than main quests, though here the ratio is probably 2:1 rather than 5:1. (I've grown convinced that you could probably beat the main quest of Morrowind in a single afternoon if you cheated to give yourself all the stats, spells and items you need, yet it still took me several months of obsessive playing to rise through the ranks, gradually define and build up my character, investigate the living mythology and eventually confront Dagoth Ur.) The sidequests are pretty rote. There's a new faction here, the East Empire Trading Company. These quests are also of middling creativity, but what's really cool is seeing the EETC colony grow as you continue to help it out; it starts as just a few people standing around in the woods, and ends up as an impressively large, functioning community and mine.
Perhaps inevitably, the end of the main quest is a bit anti-climactic. (Spoiler alert.) After all, how do you top defeating Dagoth Ur and literally killing a goddess? The main villain here, whose name is something like Hircene, has a cool ominous background/prophecy, but is basically just a Daedra who appears once every age to, um, kill some people. It turns out that this time around he has his eye on you and three other people. So, either kill him, or you'll be dead! Which is a good motivation, I guess, but it feels pretty insular; you really aren't helping anyone besides yourself.
Now, it does do some stuff with werewolves. They're the only enemy in the whole game that actually impressed me. (Ascended Sleepers were a cool idea but impossible to take seriously.) They're fast and incredibly powerful. What's worst is when they hunt in packs; it's kind of chilling to hear a howl and then suddenly be attacked from four sides. There's a great attack/dream sequence, where you lie down in bed, then wake up surrounded by werewolves. I immediately pressed F and started swinging my mouse arround, but there was no response. It took a few minutes for my brain to register that they weren't actually attacking me, I was that strongly conditioned to fear them.
And the endgame is by far the most difficult part of the game. Well, not the literal final two battles; all boss battles are pretty easy because you can just do some summoning and carelessly drink all your potions. The two stages before that, though, were crazy hard; you navigate an extremely narrow maze filled with werewolves. The reason WHY this is hard is because you need to kill every single one of those beasts, since it's too narrow to sneak around them; each one probably takes 20-30 or so hits from a Daedric Wakazashi to kill; and as a result my weapons were almost totally blunted by the time I got through the first of the two levels. I was considering going way back to an earlier save just so I could stock up on everything before starting the endgame. This was the first time in any of the games that I've actually regretted not taking Armorer skill.
So, that's that. There are still a few EETC missions I could do, and I ought to report back to the inventor in Ald'ruhn about how his expedition went. I'm even more tempted to check out one of the highly-rated community expansions. Realistically, though, I think I'll declare this to be a good stopping point and will wait for Oblivion.
Which is another topic altogether. Now that the system requirements have been released, I'm going to need to decide how to approach getting this game. Not to put too fine a point on it, I'm about 1/3 behind where I need to be on all fronts: a 2Ghz CPU instead of 3; 768MB of RAM instead of 1GB; and a 6600 instead of a 6800 video card. A lot of people would point out that I could get an XBox 360 for less money than a top-of-the-line video card. Very true, but I have moral issues with getting a 360, plus Oblivion's the only game I'm really interested in for it, while a PC would let me do more stuff. Right now I'm contemplating doing something like I did for Morrowind: wait until 4 years after it is released, then pick it up in a cheap bundle and find that it runs effortlessly on my PC. Best of all, that'll give them a chance to patch up the game and the mod community will further buff out any annoying aspects of the game. RPGs probably age better than any other genre; I recently replayed FFVII since I never got Vincent the first time through, and was impressed again by the power that game packs. Oblivion is going to wow lots of people on the technical front when it is released later this year, but I'm content to wait and allow it to wow me with its story and atmosphere.
Habby beerday!
It's been a really nice weekend. I went hiking on Saturday for the first time in... well, I guess two weeks, but it's felt a lot longer. This was my second ascent to Mission Peak, this time coming from the southwest. When I started I couldn't see the mountain tops because they were covered in mist; the further I climbed, the higher up they ascended, until I reached the top and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Beautiful.
Anyways. I'm getting a wee bit concerned that some of you may be under the misapprehension that I'm becoming, um, "healthy" or something. Far from it. I figured that this would be a great time to write about how great beer is.
After the company holiday party back in December, I spent some time reflecting on my history with alcohol. I know some readers of this blog are regular drinkers, and at least one is a teetotaller, but I think most are occasional social drinkers like myself. Just thought I'd put down my recollections about my relationship with booze.
I was a total boyscout growing up. I did not drink any alcohol until after I turned 21. (The one exception: I think I had some communion wine at an Episcopalian Eucharist when I was 17.) Part of this is because I am, at heart, a law-and-order kinda guy; partly it's because my parents seemed so fiercely opposed to drinking. Most of all, it's just because in high school and college I hung out with people who didn't drink, so the temptation was never really there. (Many of these same people have gone on to become quite talented drinkers since leaving for school or reaching their majority. I suspect that the longer one puts off drinking, the better one becomes at it.)
Still, despite the fact I didn't do it, I wasn't really opposed. I think I've known since high school that I would drink once I turned 21, in much the same way that (big shocker here) I'll try pot once if it ever becomes legal. I basically examined all the potential objections and decided they didn't apply to me.
So I felt fine not drinking. But why SHOULD I drink? The list was short:
I spent some time thinking about what I wanted to do. I laid down a few ground rules for myself. I would never drink alone. I wouldn't get drunk or out of control.
I turned 21 during one of the best summers of my life, while working for an internship at Raviant. A few weeks before then I went to my first bar with some co-workers, a blowing-off-steam social occasion after a stressful week that had seem several layoffs. I had a root beer and played pool and watched with interest as the others had a few beers or none at all.
I went back home for the week of my birthday and went out with highschool friends (along with another who was also a July 5 birthday). I was the first of them to turn 21 and the group included some people who still don't drink, so it would have felt very awkward to start there.
My very first beer was inauspicious. I went to a Lifehouse concert in midtown Kansas City. I was in this enormous line that stretched all the way around the venue. After waiting for a while, someone came down yelling something like "Anyone over 21 can come into the bar and get in early!" I was like, "Score!" It wasn't the greatest bar... two Miller Lite girls were parading around, and beer was being served in plastic cups. I figured, "What the heck," and bought a Miller Lite (yes, I know this is ironic) and tipped the bartendar a dollar. It didn't taste that great, but I finished the cup before the doors opened. The concert was fine, I wasn't really tempted to have another beer.
I think that was the last time I drank that summer. Over the next year more and more of my friends turned 21 and drinking became more of a possibility. Again, none of us were gung-ho boozehounds, but a few people were looking forward to starting drinking, or drinking legally. I fondly remember Brad's 21st birthday, which at one point saw us watching "Castle of Cagliostro" while alternating swigs from a 21-year-old flagon of whiskey.
From roughly then up until graduation, my alcoholic universe revolved around a wonderful place called Cicero's. In the Delmar Loop, we had frequented this great Italian restaurant since our freshman year, enjoying its delicious and relatively cheap food as well as its pool tables. Now, we bowed in awe to its beer. To this day I have not seen a beer list as thorough as Cicero's; their stock varies, but you could generally count on over 60 beers on tap and 100 in bottles. We made a pact to order something different every time we went, and would sample each other's beer. I consider this one of the most educational experiences in my college career, as I developed my palate and developed not only the capacity to enjoy beer, but to analyze and discuss each brew's characteristics. It also spoiled me and turned me into a beer snob, which is unfortunate, since to this day I can't stomach the major American brewers and end up paying twice as much per drink as anyone else.
Of course, beer is just one class of alcoholic beverage, with wine and liquor filling out the triumvirate. I don't have anything philosophical against either of these, I just don't spend as much time in environments where they are consumed. I will very occasionally have a glass of wine with a meal, but if beer is an option I'll nearly always opt for that instead. I had a handful of experiences with shots in college, and am somewhat conversant in the different liquors, but again, given the choice I'll steer towards beer. For some reason, for the two weddings I've most recently attended, I've done simple cocktails (rum and coke, etc.) instead of beer. Who knows why.
I actually drink less now than I did senior year in college. I still only drink socially, so I don't have much of a stock at home (no beer unless I'm expecting company, just a few bottles of liquor and wine that last a long while before consumption). My consumption remains relatively stable, often just one Guinness that I will nurse for the entire night. Again, I do enjoy the relaxed and loquacious feeling I get when drinking, but I tend to be cautious of the consequences, particularly if I know I'll be driving home.
My favorite drinks? When in a bar I'll either get a Guinness or a Sam Adams, you can count on them having one of those on tap unless they're a total dive. Guinness has wonderful texture and weight, you know what you're drinking when you sip it. Sam Adams is lighter but still good without leaving an aftertaste, and best of all, permits you to do a Dave Chappelle impression when you hoist it in the air. If it's a brewpub I'll check out whatever they are offering, usually tending towards the darker brews.
My all-time favorite beers were all first discovered in Cicero's and include Young's Chocolate Double Stout, Dead Rogue Ale, and several sweet Dutch beers. These can be hard to find, but most good grocery stores will have at least a few in the liquor isle.
I have so little experience with wine that I can't even comment on that.
My favorite shot is an Irish carbomb. It seriously tastes like candy when you drink it down. I refuse to drink gin. I prefer rum over whiskey or bourbon, though I enjoy all three. I'll try any shot you give me, but will only do one an hour.
I don't think I've ever been drunk. I've definitely had times when I could really feel something happening, but it's always been cereberal for me; I've never lost my balance or gotten sick or done something I regreted the next day. Once I reach the happy place where I'm enjoying everything, laughing a lot and participating in the conversation, I'll usually just coast on that for as long as I can.
So, while I'm almost sure I've never been DRUNK, I can tell you about the closest I've been. It was New Year's Eve of 2003; I had graduated from school and spent six months working at Cerner. The group of people who went through orientation together had largely stayed in touch and would occasionally do stuff together. An invitation went out for a New Year's Eve bash. It was one of those deals where everyone pays $20 to get in, but everything else is free - the beer, snack food, party favors, etc. Afterwards we would all crash at my friend Arthi's apartment at the Plaza.
We met up at the apartment around six and headed to a nearby Mexican restaurant. Our numbers waxed and waned throughout the evening but we generally had around fifteen people, evenly mixed between guys and girls, surely a rarity for employees in a software company. The food was quite good and I was indulging in a couple of margaritas. They tasted very good, but didn't seem to be affecting me much. Until we stood up to leave. That's when I had one of those "WHOA!" moments and knew I was in for a fun night.
The party itself filled two nightclubs in Westport, the Velvet Lounge and the Ambassador. Most of our night was spent in the Velvet Lounge, a three-story affair. Virtually all the clientele was in our age bracket roughly 20-25; it was crowded but not enough to feel claustrophobic, noisy enough so you could hear someone right next to you but no further. Throughout the evening we travelled in clumps, breaking up and reforming as the night went on. I was delighted to discover that the music was actually pretty decent, with a good representation from classic alternative bands (whoa, I can't believe I just typed that, but you know what I mean) and some listenable current tunes.
And, while I wasn't a boozehound, I did partake of the sauce that night. Knowing that I have a place to spend the night without driving definitely makes me more willing to test my limits, and although I don't recall exactly how many brews I had, that number is probably my record to date. I was excited and animated, still just socializing within my group but contributing more than normal. Midnight came and went, everyone toasted, and we kept on going. Around 1AM I headed across the street to the Ambassador, which is more of a music club than a drinking establishment, and actually got on the dance floor for close to an hour. Read all my previous disclaimers; I'm bad at dancing WITH someone, but put a hundred people on the floor all bouncing around to a beat - well, I can do that.
I missed the big caravan heading back to Arthi's and so I walked six of the blocks down to the Plaza before Mike, Mike's girlfriend and Aaron drove by and picked me up. In the apartment everyone was just sprawled all over; I laid down but, as usual after I've been drinking, was massively overstimulated and wasn't able to drift off until after I noticed the sky starting to turn light.
Even then, though, I woke up five hours later feeling great, no headache or anything. So while that's the night where alcohol had the biggest impact on my behavior, I'm still unsure if I qualified as "drunk."
The second-most I've ever drunk was at my going-away party from Cerner. It started off as a farewell dinner at a nice little restaurant/pub we'd been to before; and over thirty people showed up at one time or another. At the end there were just about ten people left, hard-core drinkers all. That's the night I did shots, which really pushed me over. I think drinking beer is self-regulating to some degree, because it fills you up so you physically can't keep drinking; shots just deliver alcohol and so are more dangerous. It was a great time, but also a little awkward; I knew I needed to drive home that night to meet Justin, who had already scheduled a visit that weekend, so I wanted to make sure they all knew how much I appreciated it and was enjoying myself while keeping myself in good enough shape to drive. I gave myself about 90 minutes between my last drink and walking out the door and handled it just fine, a really fun tribute to my formative 18 months at Cerner.
And since then... I don't want to say "It's gone downhill," because that makes it sound like I really miss it, which isn't exactly true. But I no longer have regular drinking opportunities, so I just enjoy the occasional hit from time to time. Last month my parents served wine with our Thanksgiving meal, a first for our family and something I greatly enjoyed. I think that, moving forward, that will be the more common model: no longer using a bit of alcohol to get myself in the mood to dance, just casually enjoying some good-tasting spirits with people closest to me.
Well, that's all I have to say about that. Enjoy the game, everyone. Go Seahawks! Cover the spread!
Anyways. I'm getting a wee bit concerned that some of you may be under the misapprehension that I'm becoming, um, "healthy" or something. Far from it. I figured that this would be a great time to write about how great beer is.
After the company holiday party back in December, I spent some time reflecting on my history with alcohol. I know some readers of this blog are regular drinkers, and at least one is a teetotaller, but I think most are occasional social drinkers like myself. Just thought I'd put down my recollections about my relationship with booze.
I was a total boyscout growing up. I did not drink any alcohol until after I turned 21. (The one exception: I think I had some communion wine at an Episcopalian Eucharist when I was 17.) Part of this is because I am, at heart, a law-and-order kinda guy; partly it's because my parents seemed so fiercely opposed to drinking. Most of all, it's just because in high school and college I hung out with people who didn't drink, so the temptation was never really there. (Many of these same people have gone on to become quite talented drinkers since leaving for school or reaching their majority. I suspect that the longer one puts off drinking, the better one becomes at it.)
Still, despite the fact I didn't do it, I wasn't really opposed. I think I've known since high school that I would drink once I turned 21, in much the same way that (big shocker here) I'll try pot once if it ever becomes legal. I basically examined all the potential objections and decided they didn't apply to me.
- Religious: Drinking had an aura of sinfulness about it, and was often described in my church experience as something unsaved people did. Still, in my reading of the bible, I only saw warnings against drunkenness, not alcohol itself. And why would Jesus create wine if it was intrinsically bad? I decided I could drink and still be a good Christian, so long as my drinking did not lead to anything bad.
- Health: Cirrhosis and stuff were held up at the consequences of liquor. But, I determined that most people who drank occasionally escaped these threats, and some research even suggested that wine could help your heart.
- Cost: There are special taxes on alcoholic beverages, and some people spend a lot of money on it. As long as it was an occasional expense, though, I didn't see any problem.
- Scandal: Drinking causes you to lose your judgement and do foolish things. This seemed risky, but I figured that with careful experimentation, among friends, I could figure out what my limits were and how to deal with it.
- Permanent brain damage: Yes, Virginia, beer kills brain cells. This was my one rationalization: "Well, we only use 10% of our brain anyways, so it'll hardly hurt anything important. Besides, I think too much anyways."
So I felt fine not drinking. But why SHOULD I drink? The list was short:
- Socialization. Also known as "Peer pressure for people over 21." A lot of people drink, and while I didn't worry about offending them, it seemed like it would be fun to join them.
- Better living through chemistry. I'm a fan of self-medication, with caffeine my main drug of choice. It's kind of fun to change the way my mind works and experience an alternate reality for a while.
- Lowered inhibitions. I tend to be pretty guarded and uncommunicative, even with my closest friends. Several times Brad had mentioned that he wondered what I would be like after drinking, and I was curious myself.
I spent some time thinking about what I wanted to do. I laid down a few ground rules for myself. I would never drink alone. I wouldn't get drunk or out of control.
I turned 21 during one of the best summers of my life, while working for an internship at Raviant. A few weeks before then I went to my first bar with some co-workers, a blowing-off-steam social occasion after a stressful week that had seem several layoffs. I had a root beer and played pool and watched with interest as the others had a few beers or none at all.
I went back home for the week of my birthday and went out with highschool friends (along with another who was also a July 5 birthday). I was the first of them to turn 21 and the group included some people who still don't drink, so it would have felt very awkward to start there.
My very first beer was inauspicious. I went to a Lifehouse concert in midtown Kansas City. I was in this enormous line that stretched all the way around the venue. After waiting for a while, someone came down yelling something like "Anyone over 21 can come into the bar and get in early!" I was like, "Score!" It wasn't the greatest bar... two Miller Lite girls were parading around, and beer was being served in plastic cups. I figured, "What the heck," and bought a Miller Lite (yes, I know this is ironic) and tipped the bartendar a dollar. It didn't taste that great, but I finished the cup before the doors opened. The concert was fine, I wasn't really tempted to have another beer.
I think that was the last time I drank that summer. Over the next year more and more of my friends turned 21 and drinking became more of a possibility. Again, none of us were gung-ho boozehounds, but a few people were looking forward to starting drinking, or drinking legally. I fondly remember Brad's 21st birthday, which at one point saw us watching "Castle of Cagliostro" while alternating swigs from a 21-year-old flagon of whiskey.
From roughly then up until graduation, my alcoholic universe revolved around a wonderful place called Cicero's. In the Delmar Loop, we had frequented this great Italian restaurant since our freshman year, enjoying its delicious and relatively cheap food as well as its pool tables. Now, we bowed in awe to its beer. To this day I have not seen a beer list as thorough as Cicero's; their stock varies, but you could generally count on over 60 beers on tap and 100 in bottles. We made a pact to order something different every time we went, and would sample each other's beer. I consider this one of the most educational experiences in my college career, as I developed my palate and developed not only the capacity to enjoy beer, but to analyze and discuss each brew's characteristics. It also spoiled me and turned me into a beer snob, which is unfortunate, since to this day I can't stomach the major American brewers and end up paying twice as much per drink as anyone else.
Of course, beer is just one class of alcoholic beverage, with wine and liquor filling out the triumvirate. I don't have anything philosophical against either of these, I just don't spend as much time in environments where they are consumed. I will very occasionally have a glass of wine with a meal, but if beer is an option I'll nearly always opt for that instead. I had a handful of experiences with shots in college, and am somewhat conversant in the different liquors, but again, given the choice I'll steer towards beer. For some reason, for the two weddings I've most recently attended, I've done simple cocktails (rum and coke, etc.) instead of beer. Who knows why.
I actually drink less now than I did senior year in college. I still only drink socially, so I don't have much of a stock at home (no beer unless I'm expecting company, just a few bottles of liquor and wine that last a long while before consumption). My consumption remains relatively stable, often just one Guinness that I will nurse for the entire night. Again, I do enjoy the relaxed and loquacious feeling I get when drinking, but I tend to be cautious of the consequences, particularly if I know I'll be driving home.
My favorite drinks? When in a bar I'll either get a Guinness or a Sam Adams, you can count on them having one of those on tap unless they're a total dive. Guinness has wonderful texture and weight, you know what you're drinking when you sip it. Sam Adams is lighter but still good without leaving an aftertaste, and best of all, permits you to do a Dave Chappelle impression when you hoist it in the air. If it's a brewpub I'll check out whatever they are offering, usually tending towards the darker brews.
My all-time favorite beers were all first discovered in Cicero's and include Young's Chocolate Double Stout, Dead Rogue Ale, and several sweet Dutch beers. These can be hard to find, but most good grocery stores will have at least a few in the liquor isle.
I have so little experience with wine that I can't even comment on that.
My favorite shot is an Irish carbomb. It seriously tastes like candy when you drink it down. I refuse to drink gin. I prefer rum over whiskey or bourbon, though I enjoy all three. I'll try any shot you give me, but will only do one an hour.
I don't think I've ever been drunk. I've definitely had times when I could really feel something happening, but it's always been cereberal for me; I've never lost my balance or gotten sick or done something I regreted the next day. Once I reach the happy place where I'm enjoying everything, laughing a lot and participating in the conversation, I'll usually just coast on that for as long as I can.
So, while I'm almost sure I've never been DRUNK, I can tell you about the closest I've been. It was New Year's Eve of 2003; I had graduated from school and spent six months working at Cerner. The group of people who went through orientation together had largely stayed in touch and would occasionally do stuff together. An invitation went out for a New Year's Eve bash. It was one of those deals where everyone pays $20 to get in, but everything else is free - the beer, snack food, party favors, etc. Afterwards we would all crash at my friend Arthi's apartment at the Plaza.
We met up at the apartment around six and headed to a nearby Mexican restaurant. Our numbers waxed and waned throughout the evening but we generally had around fifteen people, evenly mixed between guys and girls, surely a rarity for employees in a software company. The food was quite good and I was indulging in a couple of margaritas. They tasted very good, but didn't seem to be affecting me much. Until we stood up to leave. That's when I had one of those "WHOA!" moments and knew I was in for a fun night.
The party itself filled two nightclubs in Westport, the Velvet Lounge and the Ambassador. Most of our night was spent in the Velvet Lounge, a three-story affair. Virtually all the clientele was in our age bracket roughly 20-25; it was crowded but not enough to feel claustrophobic, noisy enough so you could hear someone right next to you but no further. Throughout the evening we travelled in clumps, breaking up and reforming as the night went on. I was delighted to discover that the music was actually pretty decent, with a good representation from classic alternative bands (whoa, I can't believe I just typed that, but you know what I mean) and some listenable current tunes.
And, while I wasn't a boozehound, I did partake of the sauce that night. Knowing that I have a place to spend the night without driving definitely makes me more willing to test my limits, and although I don't recall exactly how many brews I had, that number is probably my record to date. I was excited and animated, still just socializing within my group but contributing more than normal. Midnight came and went, everyone toasted, and we kept on going. Around 1AM I headed across the street to the Ambassador, which is more of a music club than a drinking establishment, and actually got on the dance floor for close to an hour. Read all my previous disclaimers; I'm bad at dancing WITH someone, but put a hundred people on the floor all bouncing around to a beat - well, I can do that.
I missed the big caravan heading back to Arthi's and so I walked six of the blocks down to the Plaza before Mike, Mike's girlfriend and Aaron drove by and picked me up. In the apartment everyone was just sprawled all over; I laid down but, as usual after I've been drinking, was massively overstimulated and wasn't able to drift off until after I noticed the sky starting to turn light.
Even then, though, I woke up five hours later feeling great, no headache or anything. So while that's the night where alcohol had the biggest impact on my behavior, I'm still unsure if I qualified as "drunk."
The second-most I've ever drunk was at my going-away party from Cerner. It started off as a farewell dinner at a nice little restaurant/pub we'd been to before; and over thirty people showed up at one time or another. At the end there were just about ten people left, hard-core drinkers all. That's the night I did shots, which really pushed me over. I think drinking beer is self-regulating to some degree, because it fills you up so you physically can't keep drinking; shots just deliver alcohol and so are more dangerous. It was a great time, but also a little awkward; I knew I needed to drive home that night to meet Justin, who had already scheduled a visit that weekend, so I wanted to make sure they all knew how much I appreciated it and was enjoying myself while keeping myself in good enough shape to drive. I gave myself about 90 minutes between my last drink and walking out the door and handled it just fine, a really fun tribute to my formative 18 months at Cerner.
And since then... I don't want to say "It's gone downhill," because that makes it sound like I really miss it, which isn't exactly true. But I no longer have regular drinking opportunities, so I just enjoy the occasional hit from time to time. Last month my parents served wine with our Thanksgiving meal, a first for our family and something I greatly enjoyed. I think that, moving forward, that will be the more common model: no longer using a bit of alcohol to get myself in the mood to dance, just casually enjoying some good-tasting spirits with people closest to me.
Well, that's all I have to say about that. Enjoy the game, everyone. Go Seahawks! Cover the spread!
Friday, February 03, 2006
I'm thinking of a word right now, but it's not "kitty."
Everyone gets songs stuck in their head. I'm afraid I might be going crazy, though.
On Wednesday, it was AFI's "Head Like a Hole." It was really bad; I was almost ready to start singing it because it was the only thing I could think about.
HEAD LIKE A HOLE! BLACK AS YOUR SOUL!
I'D RATHER DIE THAN GIVE YOU CONTROL!
Bow down before the one you serve
You're going to get what you deserve...
Today, it's a song from a church musical of the "G. T. and the Halo Express" school:
Input, Output
What goes in is what comes out
Input, Output
That is what it's all about
Input, Output
Your life is a computer whose
Input, Output
Daily you must choose.
Let the Bible be your
Primary feed
It's got all the
Data you need.
Talk to Jesus
All the time
That's the way that you can stay on-line!
And, worst of all, now that I've actually written both out, I'm starting to think that these songs have something in common. Both are about filling your head, and both caution that outcomes are contingent upon actions.
Help!
On Wednesday, it was AFI's "Head Like a Hole." It was really bad; I was almost ready to start singing it because it was the only thing I could think about.
HEAD LIKE A HOLE! BLACK AS YOUR SOUL!
I'D RATHER DIE THAN GIVE YOU CONTROL!
Bow down before the one you serve
You're going to get what you deserve...
Today, it's a song from a church musical of the "G. T. and the Halo Express" school:
Input, Output
What goes in is what comes out
Input, Output
That is what it's all about
Input, Output
Your life is a computer whose
Input, Output
Daily you must choose.
Let the Bible be your
Primary feed
It's got all the
Data you need.
Talk to Jesus
All the time
That's the way that you can stay on-line!
And, worst of all, now that I've actually written both out, I'm starting to think that these songs have something in common. Both are about filling your head, and both caution that outcomes are contingent upon actions.
Help!
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Toxic Girl
Zodiac is the last Stephenson book I've read. I mean that in both senses of the word: it's the one I've read most recently, and it's also the only remaining Stephenson book which I hadn't already read.
I hadn't been holding off because I'd heard bad things about it or anything. It's just that I was worried I'd grow depressed in a world where there was no more Neal Stephenson left to read. Kind of like how you save the last piece of chocolate just so you'll know it's there when you need it.
But the time had come; I was ready to read something new, and nothing else at the library grabbed my fancy, so I took Zodiac and ran with it.
I'd classify this work as minor Stephenson. Keep in mind that I consider Dubliners to be minor Joyce. It's still one of the most entertaining books I've read recently. Longtime fans will be delighted to hear that it's classic Stephenson in the way it marries an adreneline-fueled plot, lots of geeky information, a sprawling story structure, a multitude of characters and more than a few digressions.
Personally, I tend to divide Stephenson's works into two sections. The first starts with The Big U and continues up through The Diamond Age. These books tend to feel sort of Science Fiction-y and are incredibly loose. They tend to make interesting narrative decisions and seem like they would be excellent candidates for either a Hollywood blockbuster or a graduate thesis paper. Even if I hadn't known ahead of time when Zodiac was written I would have placed it in between The Big U and Snow Crash; the characters are generally better-written and more believable than the former, but he hasn't yet gained the ability to juggle twenty plotlines simultaneously. The one disappointment is that it pretty much breaks my theory regarding Stephenson obsessing about the bicameral mind; at least on my initial read through this, there doesn't seem to be any treatment of the subject.
(On a side note: the second section of Stephenson starts with Cryptonomicon and continues through The System of the World. His writing here is less frenetic and more refined, still gripping but more in a way that makes you want to re-read paragraphs than a way that keeps you turning pages. He retains and expands on his trademark digressions, creating complex plots far beyond even Snow Crash's sprawl. This is the body of work that will win him the Pulitzer, though the former will continue to attract the most new readers.)
Overall I would strongly recommend this book if you've previously read and enjoyed Stephenson; there's just more to love here, and he covers radically different thematic material here than in his other works. If you haven't yet met Neal, you're probably better off starting with Snow Crash or The Big U, which I personally enjoyed more than this.
Now, let's proceed with some
Mini Spoilers
"Zodiac" isn't the full title, of course; it's "Zodiac: The Eco-thriller." And that's about the most honest title I've ever seen a book given; it is a thriller, and it is about ecology. This was interesting space for Stephenson to explore; right off the top of my head, here's what his other books have been about:
The Big U: Academia, psychology, anthropology
Snow Crash: Computers and networks, anthropology, ancient history, sociology
[Interface]: Political science, clinical psychology, neoroscience, sociology
The Diamond Age: Science, sociology, ethics and morality
Cryptonomicon: Cryptography, history, developmental psychology
The Baroque Cycle: History, currency, science, religion, politics
Of course, Stephenson being Stephenson, there are far more digressions, but those seem to me to be the major themes.
A similar list for Zodiac would read, "Chemistry, ecology, business, media." All that to say that there's almost no overlap between his themes here and the rest of his oeuvre, which is exciting. You always walk away from one of his books knowing a lot more than when you went in, and for what it's worth I learned more about organic chemistry from this book than from living with pre-meds for several years.
Oh, and because this is early Stephenson, he still has a first-person narrator. This one is S.T., who has a far more well-developed identity and presence than the narrator of The Big U. As he says in the Acknowledgements, S.T. is intended to be "a big asshole," but that doesn't stop you from liking him. Well, it didn't stop me. S.T. has several unpleasant personal habits and a fairly arrogant personality, but he's fighting on the right side and incredibly competent, so we forgive him. He's an anti-hero in the vein of Westley from The Princess Bride, fighting to topple a corrupt enemy.
This may be the only Stephenson novel that lends itself to partisan analysis; he comes down squarely on the side of the environmentalists. However, you don't necessarily think about that while reading the book. The scope of the issue is so narrowly defined, only covering toxic waste being dumped along the Northeast coastline, and specifically Boston Harbor. He doesn't get into global warming or species preservation or nonrenewable fuel sources or anything, other than to briefly mention that a lot of the "duck squeezers" care about those other issues as well. The fact that all his targets are clearly in violation of the EPA laws anyways should let everyone but the most extreme libertarians feel like S.T. is working on their side and not "the other party."
Like most of Stephenson's protagonists, S. T. is incredibly talented at what he does; a chemist by training, he is very skilled at quickly identifying and analyzing toxic substances. Sure, he does a lot of other stuff like plug up pipes, motor around Boston harbor, sleep with attractive reporters, and get into fistfights, but he is most clearly admirable for his brain.
The characters in The Big U were entertaining caricatures: the Wargame Geek, the Brilliant Hacker, the Lesbian Roommate. By Snowcrash, he had characters that started as tweaked stereotypes but became fully three-dimensional over the novel's course. He's in between those two here. Some characters, S. T. in particular but also Bart and Hoa and several others, are simultaneously believable and entertaining. However, many more make no lasting impression. I read the whole book in five sittings (to and from San Francisco twice and one stay in Union Square), and even without an intervening week I found myself asking, "Wait a minute, who is Esmerelda again?" It seems to be yet another Stephenson trademark to invent characters wherever they're convenient, giving them elaborate back stories for just a few lines of action, but at this point in his career he still wasn't making them memorable enough.
Rounding into the home stretch, let's hit the
Mega Spoilers
That Satanism stuff came from out of left field, didn't it? For a few chapters there I was actually wondering whether this would turn into a spiritual thriller. I should've known better; Stephenson is too much in love with science and explanations to go for that.
On the whole, I was impressed by the mixture of personal and corporate menace that filled the book. All good stories need villains, and he got two good ones here: the exciting immediate violent opposition of Laughin/Satanism, and the more realistic and removed crimes of Basco/Groveler. Of course, it's the latter that's far more common in the world today, and I think he tries to put our attention on that; Laughin is a jerk, but he wouldn't be there if it wasn't for the institutional evil of Basco.
Did you know that Stephenson's major in college was geology? He chose it because that department had the best computers. Still, I feel like we're getting a lot of first-hand knowledge in this book; it doesn't directly match up with his major, but I'm sure he's had at least some formal schooling on the consequences of chemical spills. Regardless, I always enjoy a good Stephenson lecture, unafraid to nerd out but also making an arcane topic surprisingly accessible.
I was shocked, shocked, shocked at the ending: it was actually pretty decent. Stephenson has a well-deserved reputation for horrible endings, but this one was merely mediocre. He actually tied up his plot lines, had some sort of resolution, and talked briefly about what the other characters were up to. It wasn't as good as The System of the World, the only actually good ending he's written (in my opinion), but still much better than I was expecting.
I count my lucky stars that I was never reading this book around mealtime. All the toxic sludge stuff was downright disgusting. Not sure whether that was part of his point, but if so, he succeeded admirably.
Oh, and another positive: getting through a whole Stephenson book without a creepy and disturbing sex scene. There's sex, but it's downright wholesome in comparison to scenes in The Big U, or Snow Crash, or The Diamond Age, or Cryptonomicon, or Quicksilver, etc., etc.
Some of me wonders whether this book was more... I'm trying to think of the right word. More carefully edited, or more controlled by the publisher, than his other works. I got the initial feeling from the title, "The Eco-thriller," which is a great way to describe a book but doesn't feel like a natural Stephenson title to me. And on the whole it felt much tighter than any of his other books; virtually every narrative sidetrack ended up being incorporated back into the main plotline at some point, as opposed to normal where at most the digressions sort of comment on the main action, and more often exist to entertain us. Again, I'm not sure whether this is a case of an editor going through and stripping out everything that didn't need to be there, or Neal just trying something different for a change. I confess I am intrigued by the thought that somewhere out there there might be a 700-page-long original manuscript for Zodiac.
In conclusion, um, good book. The English Lit major in me can think of a few ways to criticize it, but my inner nerd and my inner thrillseeker both love it, and whenever they agree on something I'm comfortable pronouncing it awesome.
I hadn't been holding off because I'd heard bad things about it or anything. It's just that I was worried I'd grow depressed in a world where there was no more Neal Stephenson left to read. Kind of like how you save the last piece of chocolate just so you'll know it's there when you need it.
But the time had come; I was ready to read something new, and nothing else at the library grabbed my fancy, so I took Zodiac and ran with it.
I'd classify this work as minor Stephenson. Keep in mind that I consider Dubliners to be minor Joyce. It's still one of the most entertaining books I've read recently. Longtime fans will be delighted to hear that it's classic Stephenson in the way it marries an adreneline-fueled plot, lots of geeky information, a sprawling story structure, a multitude of characters and more than a few digressions.
Personally, I tend to divide Stephenson's works into two sections. The first starts with The Big U and continues up through The Diamond Age. These books tend to feel sort of Science Fiction-y and are incredibly loose. They tend to make interesting narrative decisions and seem like they would be excellent candidates for either a Hollywood blockbuster or a graduate thesis paper. Even if I hadn't known ahead of time when Zodiac was written I would have placed it in between The Big U and Snow Crash; the characters are generally better-written and more believable than the former, but he hasn't yet gained the ability to juggle twenty plotlines simultaneously. The one disappointment is that it pretty much breaks my theory regarding Stephenson obsessing about the bicameral mind; at least on my initial read through this, there doesn't seem to be any treatment of the subject.
(On a side note: the second section of Stephenson starts with Cryptonomicon and continues through The System of the World. His writing here is less frenetic and more refined, still gripping but more in a way that makes you want to re-read paragraphs than a way that keeps you turning pages. He retains and expands on his trademark digressions, creating complex plots far beyond even Snow Crash's sprawl. This is the body of work that will win him the Pulitzer, though the former will continue to attract the most new readers.)
Overall I would strongly recommend this book if you've previously read and enjoyed Stephenson; there's just more to love here, and he covers radically different thematic material here than in his other works. If you haven't yet met Neal, you're probably better off starting with Snow Crash or The Big U, which I personally enjoyed more than this.
Now, let's proceed with some
Mini Spoilers
"Zodiac" isn't the full title, of course; it's "Zodiac: The Eco-thriller." And that's about the most honest title I've ever seen a book given; it is a thriller, and it is about ecology. This was interesting space for Stephenson to explore; right off the top of my head, here's what his other books have been about:
The Big U: Academia, psychology, anthropology
Snow Crash: Computers and networks, anthropology, ancient history, sociology
[Interface]: Political science, clinical psychology, neoroscience, sociology
The Diamond Age: Science, sociology, ethics and morality
Cryptonomicon: Cryptography, history, developmental psychology
The Baroque Cycle: History, currency, science, religion, politics
Of course, Stephenson being Stephenson, there are far more digressions, but those seem to me to be the major themes.
A similar list for Zodiac would read, "Chemistry, ecology, business, media." All that to say that there's almost no overlap between his themes here and the rest of his oeuvre, which is exciting. You always walk away from one of his books knowing a lot more than when you went in, and for what it's worth I learned more about organic chemistry from this book than from living with pre-meds for several years.
Oh, and because this is early Stephenson, he still has a first-person narrator. This one is S.T., who has a far more well-developed identity and presence than the narrator of The Big U. As he says in the Acknowledgements, S.T. is intended to be "a big asshole," but that doesn't stop you from liking him. Well, it didn't stop me. S.T. has several unpleasant personal habits and a fairly arrogant personality, but he's fighting on the right side and incredibly competent, so we forgive him. He's an anti-hero in the vein of Westley from The Princess Bride, fighting to topple a corrupt enemy.
This may be the only Stephenson novel that lends itself to partisan analysis; he comes down squarely on the side of the environmentalists. However, you don't necessarily think about that while reading the book. The scope of the issue is so narrowly defined, only covering toxic waste being dumped along the Northeast coastline, and specifically Boston Harbor. He doesn't get into global warming or species preservation or nonrenewable fuel sources or anything, other than to briefly mention that a lot of the "duck squeezers" care about those other issues as well. The fact that all his targets are clearly in violation of the EPA laws anyways should let everyone but the most extreme libertarians feel like S.T. is working on their side and not "the other party."
Like most of Stephenson's protagonists, S. T. is incredibly talented at what he does; a chemist by training, he is very skilled at quickly identifying and analyzing toxic substances. Sure, he does a lot of other stuff like plug up pipes, motor around Boston harbor, sleep with attractive reporters, and get into fistfights, but he is most clearly admirable for his brain.
The characters in The Big U were entertaining caricatures: the Wargame Geek, the Brilliant Hacker, the Lesbian Roommate. By Snowcrash, he had characters that started as tweaked stereotypes but became fully three-dimensional over the novel's course. He's in between those two here. Some characters, S. T. in particular but also Bart and Hoa and several others, are simultaneously believable and entertaining. However, many more make no lasting impression. I read the whole book in five sittings (to and from San Francisco twice and one stay in Union Square), and even without an intervening week I found myself asking, "Wait a minute, who is Esmerelda again?" It seems to be yet another Stephenson trademark to invent characters wherever they're convenient, giving them elaborate back stories for just a few lines of action, but at this point in his career he still wasn't making them memorable enough.
Rounding into the home stretch, let's hit the
Mega Spoilers
That Satanism stuff came from out of left field, didn't it? For a few chapters there I was actually wondering whether this would turn into a spiritual thriller. I should've known better; Stephenson is too much in love with science and explanations to go for that.
On the whole, I was impressed by the mixture of personal and corporate menace that filled the book. All good stories need villains, and he got two good ones here: the exciting immediate violent opposition of Laughin/Satanism, and the more realistic and removed crimes of Basco/Groveler. Of course, it's the latter that's far more common in the world today, and I think he tries to put our attention on that; Laughin is a jerk, but he wouldn't be there if it wasn't for the institutional evil of Basco.
Did you know that Stephenson's major in college was geology? He chose it because that department had the best computers. Still, I feel like we're getting a lot of first-hand knowledge in this book; it doesn't directly match up with his major, but I'm sure he's had at least some formal schooling on the consequences of chemical spills. Regardless, I always enjoy a good Stephenson lecture, unafraid to nerd out but also making an arcane topic surprisingly accessible.
I was shocked, shocked, shocked at the ending: it was actually pretty decent. Stephenson has a well-deserved reputation for horrible endings, but this one was merely mediocre. He actually tied up his plot lines, had some sort of resolution, and talked briefly about what the other characters were up to. It wasn't as good as The System of the World, the only actually good ending he's written (in my opinion), but still much better than I was expecting.
I count my lucky stars that I was never reading this book around mealtime. All the toxic sludge stuff was downright disgusting. Not sure whether that was part of his point, but if so, he succeeded admirably.
Oh, and another positive: getting through a whole Stephenson book without a creepy and disturbing sex scene. There's sex, but it's downright wholesome in comparison to scenes in The Big U, or Snow Crash, or The Diamond Age, or Cryptonomicon, or Quicksilver, etc., etc.
Some of me wonders whether this book was more... I'm trying to think of the right word. More carefully edited, or more controlled by the publisher, than his other works. I got the initial feeling from the title, "The Eco-thriller," which is a great way to describe a book but doesn't feel like a natural Stephenson title to me. And on the whole it felt much tighter than any of his other books; virtually every narrative sidetrack ended up being incorporated back into the main plotline at some point, as opposed to normal where at most the digressions sort of comment on the main action, and more often exist to entertain us. Again, I'm not sure whether this is a case of an editor going through and stripping out everything that didn't need to be there, or Neal just trying something different for a change. I confess I am intrigued by the thought that somewhere out there there might be a 700-page-long original manuscript for Zodiac.
In conclusion, um, good book. The English Lit major in me can think of a few ways to criticize it, but my inner nerd and my inner thrillseeker both love it, and whenever they agree on something I'm comfortable pronouncing it awesome.
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