Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Whom Do I Love Moore?

*This post may or may not contain spoilers.


I have recently read a series of reviews regarding Christopher Moore's novel, Fool, and discovered that many of the readers had met an unfortunate consensus: they had despised this interpretation of Shakespeare's famous tragedy.  These critics described this interpretation as "vulgar," and "written in bad taste," yet I found myself enjoying every minute of it.  Maybe my humor is a bit immature, or maybe I have no censor when it comes to what is considered "vulgar" or "inappropriate."  Either way, I found Fool to be both witty and creative.  I was immediately drawn to the character Pocket, and appreciated him for his sharp tongue and tenacity.

Shakespeare's Fool made a few cameos throughout the course of King Lear, but failed to maintain a stable appearance in the drama.  Moore's Fool, however, was not only the protagonist of the novel, but the narrator.  This is Lear told from the point of view of a ridiculous court jester.  He gave Shakespeare's loyal audience what they had wanted--more of the Fool.  Pocket was everywhere.  He was telling the story (as mentioned previously).  He was a witness to the events that occurred.  He knew the Castle Lear inside and out, and he knew every secret that the royal family wanted to keep hidden.  Moore demonstrates an obvious respect toward the Bard through his interpretation, but does not hesitate while putting his own spin on the plot.  I am ashamed to admit this (due to the fact that Shakespeare is a literary genius), but I preferred Fool's ending to that of Lear's.  I never really saw the point of hanging the Fool in the original, and would have been rather disappointed if Pocket were hung after growing so attached to him.  Bravo Mr. Moore, for your interpretation of Lear was excellent.

I am a sucker for sarcasm and satire (hence my love of James Thurber and Stephen Colbert).  This being said, I absolutely adored Pocket.  Everything from his snarky remarks, such as "love needs room to grow, like a rose, or a tumor," to the equally sarcastic raven that resides by the castle, drew me into a literary trance.  By "literary trance," I am referring to the state in which a person is so enthralled with a book, that they cannot focus on anything other than the book itself.  Moore finds comedy in this original tragedy, a feat which must be very difficult to accomplish.  This accomplishment is part of the reason that I enjoyed Fool as much as I did.  While I very much enjoyed this aspect of the novel, others found it overbearing and idiotic--and not a good kind of idiotic.  Mr. Moore took a risk by throwing "bathroom humor" into his adaptation of a master work, which could be received in one of two ways.  On one end of the spectrum, the audience (myself included) recognized this humor as being characteristic of Moore's style of writing.  On the other end, the audience was rather disappointed with the use of this rather raunchy humor.  I found myself rather disappointed with the reviews regarding the latter end of the spectrum.  I enjoyed Moore's interpretation so much, that I took this negative criticism personally.  At the end of the day, everyone is entitled to their own opinion.  My opinion, however, is the right one.




Uncle Press as a Modern Gandalf?

*There may or may not be spoilers throughout this post.


I was reading through a list of "Open Ended AP Literature" questions, and came across the topic of the mentor- an acquaintance whose influence on a specific character, dramatically changes that character's view of not only him or herself, but their view of the world as well.  Rather than answering the question directly, I began to make a list of all of the mentors that I have come across through works of fiction; Obi Wan Kanobi, Yoda, Dumbledore, Gandalf (the Grey and White), Charles Xavier, Merlin, and the beloved Uncle Press.  After creating this list, I realized that the character of Uncle Press is very similar to Gandalf.  This being said, it is fitting that I write about the connection between the two mentors, and their impact on their apprentices.  Hobey ho, let's go!

"He wore a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, and a silver scarf.  He had a long white beard and bushy eyebrows that stuck out beyond the brim of his hat."  Gandalf the Grey is one of the most renown mentors in all of literature.  First appearing in The Hobbit as a fussy, old mage, Gandalf revealed himself to Bilbo as a wise and powerful being.  Orchestrating Bilbo's journey to the Lonely Mountain, Gandalf thrust Bilbo toward his destiny.  Gandalf also served as a mentor in The Hobbit's sequel, in which he introduced Frodo to the ring, and explained that he must destroy it.  He established the Fellowship of the Ring, which was charged with the duty of returning the ring to the fires of Mordor.  Gandalf died in the process of saving the Fellowship, primarily Frodo, only to return at a later point.  The death of Gandalf had an extreme emotional impact on the Fellowship, in which they were forced to overcome due to their ultimate goal: to destroy the ring. Gandalf the White, the revived form of Gandalf the Grey, continued his purpose as guardian of the Fellowship, and mentor to Frodo. 

The Pendragon series (which has occupied a special place in my heart since I first read the series) exhibits a mentor-like figure of its own--the one and only, Uncle Press.  Press Tilton made his appearance on the night of Bobby's birthday, introducing him to his destiny as a "Traveler."  Bobby secured his place at the rear of Uncle Press' motorcycle, and rode off toward an uncertain fate.  Uncle Press had trained Bobby from his childhood, so that he would be ready to take his place as the leader of the Travelers.  Uncle Press died in the second book of the series, so that Bobby would be able to continue to the Lost City of Faar.  Bobby had a difficult time recovering from the death of his beloved Uncle, but learned to fight on toward his ultimate destiny.  In his death, Uncle Press had promised Bobby that they would be reunited in the future.  This promise came true in Raven Rise--the ninth book of the series--in which all of the Travellers were reunited in a parallel universe, so that they could band together one last time in order to defeat the evil Saint Dane. 

Both Gandalf and Uncle Press introduced their apprentices to their destiny, thus affecting the course of their futures.  As a faithful opponent against the rising evils in Middle Earth, Gandalf "died" while preventing the Balrog from harming the rest of the Fellowship.  Uncle Press died while protecting a fellow Traveler, stating that his time in Halla was already coming to an end.  Both mentors reappeared later in the series, so that they could help their "students" toward their ultimate destinies.  For this reason, I believe that Uncle Press was created to represent a modern mentor.  Just like Gandalf, Uncle Press influenced a specific character, in this case Bobby Pendragon, in order to lead them toward his destiny, and change his view of himself and the world. 

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Beta Males, Goth Girls, Outcasts--and Moore?


Christopher Moore has given life to a plethora of quirky characters.  Charlie Asher, star of A Dirty Job, is a beta male with a dirty secret.  The Gothic "Abby Normal," serves as a minion to the equally eccentric Countess Jody and Dark Lord Tommy Flood in the vampire love series.  The band of squirrel people, the "Emperor" of San Francisco, and Drool--the natural, and apprentice in Fool--are classified as the outcasts.  There are, of course, many other characters who represent many other archetypes, but Moore uses the above to create a very special relationship between his characters and his audience.

The beta male- an erratic, sarcastic man who is a major cause of road rage and uncomfortable situations. Charlie Asher makes everyone aware of his position as a beta male.  He is painfully self-conscious, finds it hard to concentrate in the presence of an attractive woman, and is vaguely reminiscent of a serial killer.  Mr. Asher never overcomes his life as a beta male, but does learn to become comfortable with himself--that is, until he is turned into a squirrel person.  Tommy Flood is another prime example of the beta male. Flood works at a supermarket in San Francisco, is friends with a bunch of guys who call themselves "The Animals," and is living as an unsuccessful writer who is doubted by both his parents and himself.  His life takes a more eccentric turn, when an extremely attractive redhead takes a suspicious liking to him.  Seeing as he is a beta male, and has an inkling for getting himself into sticky situations, Tommy turns into a vampire.  This new life however, does not prevent him from living out his life as a true beta male.  He continues his relationship with Jody, the attractive, redheaded vamp, and continues to be as self-conscious as ever.  Why does Christopher Moore take such a liking to the race of the beta male?  Perhaps Moore himself is a beta male.  Or perhaps, it is due to the fact that the majority of the male population consists of beta males.

Being the journal of Abby Normal, mistress of the night, Christopher Moore takes advantage of modern slang and stereotypical, Gothic language.  Kayso, Abby Normal is just your average, non-perky teenager, who has an inkling for stripped stockings.  Abby's best friend, and ironically her biggest rival, Lily, is another equally Gothic teenager, who makes her appearance in an entirely separate book.  Christopher Moore often uses characters, such as Abby Normal and Lily, to connect two separate, yet equal works.   Abby many come off as slightly annoying, but her placement in another one of the "insecure" archetypes enables the readers to identify themselves with her.  Everyone has gone through an identity crises at one point or another.  They dress outrageously, vie for the attention of their friends, and unsuccessfully attempt to estrange themselves from their parents.  Abby, though initially seen as another rebellious teenager, proves to be a rather dynamic character.  In fact, Abby Normal is much more than just a "whole Saturday night drunk tank of obnoxious."  She is Abby Normal, mistress of the night and minion to the Dark Lord Flood and Countess Jody, who also happens to pack a whole Saturday night drunk tank of obnoxious into one, little body.

The outcasts serve a very static role in Mr. Moore's novels.  The little squirrel people look like strange creations that have crawled out of Sid Phillips' very bedroom.  Drool, and rightfully named so, is a "natural" who has apprenticed Pocket, Lear's true fool.  The Emperor of San Francisco, alongside his trusty companions Lazarus and Bummer, roams the streets of San Francisco, on the lookout for anything that might pose a threat to his beloved city.  Every character that Moore has created, serves a very specific purpose: to function as a vital addition to the novel, and draw the reader that much closer to the story.  Every beta male, goth girl, and outcast has a purpose--a purpose to shed a whole new meaning on the role of archetypes. 

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Prompt of the Day

Select a novel, play or epic in which a character experiences such a rift and becomes cut off from "home," whether that home is the character's birthplace, family, homeland, or other special place.  Then write an essay in which you analyze how the character's experience with exile is both alienating and enriching, and how this experience illuminates the meaning for this work as a whole.  


Disgrace.  Shame.  Humiliation.  Okonkwo, son of the dishonorable Unoka, strove to find a place in his tribe despite the idle past of his father.  Chinua Achebe, the master mind behind Things Fall Apart, used Okonkwo's lifetime of strife to describe the unstable nature of existence.  One cannot stop the incessant nature of change.  "Things fall apart, the center cannot hold."  Achebe discusses the reality of change, and the affect that this reality has on various characters, Okonkwo included.  Tradition, though vital, will always be overcome by change.

A blast sounded throughout the village.  The funeral in honor of Ezeudu, a warrior with several titles, ceased in order to observe the source of the sound: Okonkwo's gun had accidentally fired, killing the son of the beloved Ezeudu.  Shedding the blood of a clansman is a terrible offense among the members of the Umuofia clan.  Okonkwo was to be banished.  Forced to burn down his crops, and his own obi, both of which he had put his life toward, Okonkwo left the ranks of the "egwugwu," and was forced to return to his motherland.

During Okonkwo's seven years in exile, a new political and religious order overpowered the tradition of his beloved tribe.  Strangers arrived in Umuofia.  Speaking in a foreign tongue, and discussing the existence of a single "God," these strangers were preaching against the natural order of things.  This religious order goes against Okonkwo's concept of manliness, thus he promptly refuses to accept the new way of things.  Okonkwo felt that this change was his fault.  He had let his tribe down, and was absent during their time of need.  Okonkwo does everything in his power to resist this cultural change, due to his prominent fear of losing his societal status.  This status is the only factor that sets him apart from his own flesh and blood: his father.  Okonkwo's time in exile, though painful and alienating, fueled Okonkwo's sense of nationalism.  Okonkwo's estranged relationship with his homeland during these seven years, enabled him to recognize the reality of change.  He realized that the traditions he had grown to cherish, were becoming dispensable due to the new political standing that was talking root in his tribe.  In losing these traditions, he would lose himself.
        
Upon his return to Umuofia, Okonkwo is infuriated by the remarkable presence of change.  He found the idleness of the villagers to be the most intolerable, refusing to accept the fact that his clansmen had taken no action toward the strangers who were taking over their very tradition.  Okonkwo's seven years in exile, and shock at the current condition of his homeland, stressed the true impact that change had on Umuofia.  Okonkwo rebuilt his farm, and planted new yams- both a weak attempt to return to his life prior to his exile, and therefore prior to the change in Umuofia's tradition.  His old life was gone, and in his mind, this life was gone because of his actions against his clan. 
       
In the end, Okonkwo's hubris was the cause of his downfall.  He was proud.  He was masculine.  He was defiant in nature, and steadfast in his loyalty to Umuofia.  Okonkwo was incapable of accepting the reality of change.  His time in exile provided with seven years of rumination, in which he dwelled upon the forthcoming of the end of tradition.  Onkonwko, while in times of good fortune, perceived himself as a maker of his own destiny.  During times of change and ill-fortune, Okonkwo throws the responsibility of his actions to another source: his son, the strangers, his dishonorable father.  The reality of this change and this responsibility, drove Okonkwo to madness.
        
The true affect of Okonkwo's experience in exile, was described in his death.  As Okonkwo hung from the tree, Achebe was able to reveal the true, fragile nature of Okonkwo.  This masculine warrior spent all of his life living in the shadow of his clan's tradition.  When this tradition was broken, Okonkwo was forced to change, a change that he could neither emotionally, nor physically accept.