At the end of The Death of Ivan Ilyich Ivan realized, “Yes, all of it was simply not the real thing. But no matter. I can still make it the real thing – I can. But what is the real thing?” (112). The film Philadelphia is an answer to that question. This movie shows the viewer very real things such as AIDS, different sexual orientations, discrimination, and positive emotional human interaction. Philadelphia illuminates “the real thing” in life, which is exactly what Tolstoy’s novel lacks and seeks.

One of the most powerful things that director Jonathan Demme uses in the movie to convey real human interaction is the shots from a first person perspective. Two parts that reveal the power of this perspective are when Andrew goes to Joe’s office and when Andrew is on his death bed. When these shots are used, it forces you to engage in the interaction between the two characters. The viewer is forced to look “the real thing” straight in the face and the reaction hits hard. In fact, the only thing Ivan ever looked straight in the face was death and “She” commanded his attention (81). Unlike the novel, Philadelphia reveals “the real thing” not only in death and mortality, but more importantly in life.

The start and finish to the movie show very different images compared to the novel. While the novel focuses on the black frame and then the black sack, the movie has images of the very thing Ivan was seeking. Both parts show people, love, and vivacity through images of the city and of the wake for Andrew. Even the sad images such as his picture or those in poverty on the street give hope and a sense of something real to live for. In the novel, Tolstoy shows none of that. The reader is instead forced to dwell in a dark place that has no hope.

We enjoy and feel closure after watching the movie because it shows “the real thing” in life. Philadelphia conveys that the real things in life make the real thing of death worth it.

-George the Reader

But back to the interview...Something Moore said about his pull towards leaner and more impactful prose really impressed me. I don't usually consider the length of a novel when pulling it from the shelf, unless it's something over 500 pages. Then, it's a tougher choice as I tally the hours and days it may take to burn through those pages. As I listened to Moore's soft Irish voice suggesting that literature may in fact be more powerful when it's expressed in economical form, I agreed totally and silently reshaped a bit of my thinking. If I live to be my grandmother's age of 97, and, with excellent health and some good genes in my corner there's no reason to think it couldn't happen, that's still only another 50 years. If I'm lucky enough to read a novel per week, that's still only another 2500 or so to anticipate at the outside estimate. So, no more wasting time on anything that doesn't take hold in a reasonable number of pages, and I'm giving myself a pass on War and Peace and Ulysses. Springing forward.

"For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn."

My contribution to the genre was "Wanted to write, I blog instead."

DavidBDale writes very verbose, yet wonderful novels of 299 words each.

Now there is a new writer of short literature.

From the Mad Haiku blog comes a Haiku version of Melville's Moby Dick.

The author was asked if he intended to do a Haiku version of "Ulysses". He replied;

"Joyce wrote Ulysses
in a way that makes no sense
the bane of us all!"

It is a good book. Sadly, I feel somewhat out of context for it. I read on wikipedia that in 1954, when this book was written, it was the first novel with an "analytical slant towards vampires." Now, I grew up seeing Bram Stoker's Dracula, the Blade Trilogy, the Anne Rice Movie adaptations, et al. There's plenty of analysis for vampire origins in those movies, so I kind of wish I was able to read the book without all of this absorbed mythology. Also, I'm not well versed in vampire novels, but this is the only one I've read that takes place in a post apocalyptic setting.

But even tho I read or saw many of its descendants before reading it, I still really enjoyed the book. After I was done reading it, one of my roomates asked me, "So is it a cool story?" The discussion that followed got me wondering about the upcoming movie adaptation starring Will Smith. Specifically, I wonder how it will do with audiences.

Plot Spoiler Follows.

Most vampire blockbusters lately have involved badasses kicking tail all over the screen in orgies of blood, gunpowder, and katanas. Assuming the ending is kept the same, will a movie where the one remaining human that we find ourselves caring about, who is surrounded by vampires, ends up turning out to be the Monster of the story be received well?

/discuss

The Guardian has a nifty little feature where it digests the latest fiction or nonfiction for you and serves it up in ultra abbreviated form. The latest on the site is Playing for Pizza by John Grisham. If the modest size of these portions suits you, browse the full archive for more.

My favourite is Misadventures by Sylvia Smith - condensed in the wonderfully dry style of the original:

My relationship with John lasted three dances. His chat-up line was, "I work for the BBC." It turned out he meant Barking Borough Council.

Dan Rhodes

There is much to be said for the succinct, brief, the short. My favourite author Dan Rhodes has made an art form of it, and explains the value of brevity in fiction:

But it seems obvious (doesn't it?) that writing overlong books is at the very least plain bad manners. I can't understand why writers are so often pilloried for writing short books. Brevity is mistaken for laziness when more often than not it's the opposite that is true. My new book, Gold, clocks in at 198 pages, and I'm convinced that, apart from in truly exceptional cases, this is about as long as a book ought to be ... in the meantime here's a list of works of fiction that I love which, in the edition on my shelf, don't run a page over the 200 mark. All killer, no filler

This quote is from Dan's Top 10 of short novels - his list includes Catcher in the Rye, Breakfast at Tiffany's and the lesser known The Bride Wore Black by Cornell Woolrich:

His name makes him sound like a range of cardigans, but Cornell Woolrich was in fact a writer of highly-wrought suspense fiction, this one being a fine example. In his 1948 book Rendezvous In Black, the main character is called Johnny Marr, and at one point he has a fight with a man called Morrissey. A must-read for Smiths fans.