Summary: Clary is just your ordinary girl, until she learns that she’s part of a race called the Shadowhunters who are tasked with killing demons and keeping humanity in the dark about their constant impending doom. Enter Jace, her love-interest who seems to think fixing your hair is the same as acting and his team of leather-clad teens. And also Alec. When Clary’s mom is kidnapped, she is stuck in the middle of a plot that becomes unnecessarily convoluted and is tasked (for some reason) with protecting the Mortal Cup from Valentine, a diabolical villain with the worst hair of all time who picked up all his tricks from the web-series Acting With James Franco.
Let’s talk about TheMortal Instruments: City of Bones.
We know, we don’t want to either because our hearts still hurt, but it must be done. For the good of humanity. For all the people who loved the book series and wanted to see it hit the big screen but haven’t yet subjected their feelings to this monstrosity playing on screens around the world. And more importantly, for every person who will never read The Mortal Instruments because of this film.
WARNING: City of Glass spoilers that are super duper spoiled by this movie anyway ahead.
I would like to begin this post by talking about a really cool website/newsletter called ReadIt1st.com. ReadIt1st (brainchild of Hank Green, as many amazing things are) promotes reading a book before you go to see the movie.
The reasoning behind this: “While movies are great, and we love them, the stories from those movies were originally envisioned in a different way. A way that requires more interaction, more brain, more relaxation, more free time, and more commitment. We think those are all things that the world doesn’t have enough of these days.”
You can even sign a pledge swearing you will always read the book first… or you can sign a pledge saying you’re going to read the book whenever you feel like it, thank you. Either way, it signs you up for a newsletter on what books are being turned into movies. (Go to http://www.readit1st.com/ to sign a pledge and get the newsletter!)
The book vs. movie debate is something we could go on about for, I don’t know, EVER, but that’s not what I’m going to talk about right now. Right now I’m going to talk about A Song of Ice and Fire.
Summary:Hermione and her friends go Horcrux hunting at random picturesque locations across the UK. Hours of moping around in a tent puts a strain on the trio’s friendship. Then they destroy a Horcrux and become friends again in the process! But then some other things happen and Dobby dies. (In addition: Snape is extremely hot. Neville is the baddest badass ever. Bellatrix is delightfully insane as usual. Bill Nighy is there for a bit in the beginning.)
Sorry guys, this is going to be another one of those shit-I-don’t-have-time-for-a-real-post rambles. Maybe I’ll have more time for this after I graduate? …yeah.
SO, the other night Stephanie, Kelly and I decided to watch the much-lauded film: HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 1, which I had never gotten around to seeing before.
I’m going to do something crazy and outlandish this week. Something that surely has featured on no blog, book-related or otherwise, ever before. Something that, to my knowledge, has never even graced the most ancient and majestic tubes of the internet.
I’m going to talk about The Hobbit movie.
Wait, what? Everyone’s been talking about The Hobbit for like the past seven years? Damn. Here I was thinking I was being all cool and innovative and interesting. Oh well.
I guess the most innovation I can manage is NOT to regale you with the thrilling profit, property, and wage battles that surrounded the film even before it made it to pre-pre-pre-production (which presumably it has at this point, though it is my understanding that even those who’ve followed the whole drama thus far in a much less half-assed manner than myself remain skeptical). If you care about that stuff, you already know about it.
Instead, I’m going to talk about how I want Legolas to be the hero of this movie.
I was having a hard time deciding what to post about this week, so I took a quick look at my bookshelves for inspiration. As soon as my eyes hit a certain portion of the “C” shelves, I felt a mild but nagging disappointment.
It wasn’t disappointment from seeing my copy of Disgrace, by J.M. Coetzee, which is a really, really depressing book that might cause you to feel disappointed about LIFE. And it wasn’t disappointment in myself for owning the novelization of the SyFy mini-series Taken (by Thomas Cook), although probably that deserves some. It was the eight books that fall between, all written by Irish author Eoin Colfer.
If you don’t know, Eoin Colfer is the author of the Artemis Fowl series, some other books I haven’t read, and the new(ish) Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy book, And Another Thing…. I was introduced to Artemis Fowl about three years ago by my lovely friend Holly, who consumes books more fiercely and happily than anyone I’ve ever seen. She likes almost EVERYTHING, so I wasn’t sure about this recommendation. But basically, it was a series about this kid who is rich, a genius, a master thief, a huge jerk, and there are fairies.
I am currently taking an English senior seminar. It’s a literary theory class about “vitalism,” which I could take the time to explain, but as it is slightly complex, let’s just say that it’s kind of about zen energy flow and some other whirly bits.
Our second book this semester (following up on William Blake’s The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, which I LOVED) is Wuthering Heights. Like many people who have experienced the joys of public high school, I have already read Wuthering Heights. And I didn’t like it the first time. I thought it was boring, dull, dry, exposition-heavy, etc.
Part of the problem is that I just really don’t like old novels. Is it because I’m a young technology addict with no attention span? Probably. Older writing techniques aren’t particularly conducive to reading with a mind like that.
It’s like before the 20th century they had no concept of fully engaging the reader. When I read books written in days of yore, it seems to me that rather than seeing what’s happening, I’m seeing a narrator tell me about it. And the narrator is sitting behind a pane of frosted glass. And mumbling.