Multiversal Truths, and Little Brother

Man, has it really been so long since I’ve written or does it just seem that way because of how busy it’s been? Anyway, because it’s been awhile, and because it may be another while before I post what with this being the holidays and all, this is an epic double post!

Finals have come and gone, momentarily satisfied with their pounds of flesh. All things considered, I’m pretty proud of how this quarter turned out. Plot was rather dull, but there was some nice character development, and enough laughs and tears along the way to keep folks watching. It felt more like a prologue than anything really, as my classes have given me a couple questions I plan on pursuing in the following academic stretch. In particular, I plan on exploring the effect of virtual worlds on the real one, now that cyber-realities have gone all mainstream.

This has been made all the more fitting since I have now officially fallen off the wagon.

Really, the only things keeping me from taking up current residence in Azeroth are my busy holiday schedule, my commitment to a Left 4 Dead quartet and a lernaean reading list that rolls longer whenever one of its members is scratched from the list. So it is official now: I am only rooted in this reality because it serves as the terminal which permits me to jump between other alternative realities.

Before I go on, one of the things I noticed over the term is the inherently ‘multiversal’ quality of the typical college day. Simply attending class is like wading through a reality storm, for what is an academic ‘class’ really, other than an extremely condensed exploration of a specific period or subject? After about three such ventures, one develops an irrational fear of being devoured by a rampant era, or errant discipline. The Jazz age may swallow you up on your way to math, or russian conjugation might toss your ass in the gulag on the way to lunch. This effect is particularly acute in the study of English, where students are frequently expected to read a full novel in a week. As I mentioned earlier, Through the Looking Glass was on the reading list, and it isn’t the sort of text one digests overnight.

Frankly I love the schitzophrenic nature of it all, but my brain is wired that way. Stockholm Syndrome turned Attention Defecit Disorder into a close friend a long time ago. Once you get accustomed to the daily or weekly agenda, you inevitably start to look for links between your subjects of study, no matter how irrelevant or disparate, just to give yourself a place to stand on. This leads the mind down some really innovative avenues of thought, and I think such contextual concatenation is an extremely useful skill to have in our modern world of links and five second media. But it has its’ downside as well.

Occasionally, you’ll be struck with the desire to revisit a class world from an earlier quarter, but these feelings are inevitably dismissed as whims as matter of necessity: There is simply no time for that sort of exploration when they pop up. It’s sad really, because many of these passing fancies hold tremendous academic merit and after being brushed off so callously, they don’t always come calling a second time.

Since I still haven’t moved through the inebriated “Wooow” factor of Lich King yet, I’d like to spend the rest of the posts going on about a book which made completing my final papers very difficult for me, because I wanted to be reading this and writing papers on it instead.

To tell it simple, Corry Doctorow’s Little Brother is a novel which explores how information technology figures in to the freedom of speech vs. homeland security dialectic. It is written for the web-savy generation: Hackers, gamers, and other people into cyber culture will get the most out of it, but as long as you are internet literate you’ll be able to enjoy the narrative, so congratulations, you’re already eligible! The book is set about five or ten years in the future, and there is some futuristic technology but it’s all based on stuff we have today, and the progression thoroughly makes sense. You might even learn some stuff about how the current internet works, seeing how Doctorow explains almost every piece of technology in the story.

Despite all of this, it never condescends to the reader. In fact, one of the best parts of the book is that it respects its audience. The characters are smarter than your average high school punks, but every invention and creative solution they conceive seems plausible. Really, one of the book’s messages is not to underestimate the young people. And mind you this is a message book.

The book is post-post-9/11, and unapologetically liberal. The main bad guys are The Department of Homeland Security. Other lesser antagonists frequently suggest that suspending freedom of speech and invading privacy are acceptable evils in the pursuit of the greater good. The opening is particularly ham-handed, but the edge it adds to the book is very effective from a literary stand point and philosophically deeply refreshing. Cautiousness has become so much a part of liberal rhetoric, that it is politically correct to the point of impotent paranoia. Doctorow’s take on liberalism is drawn from the proactive vein of the civil rights movements, and injected with modern punk sensibilities, making it a welcome alternative. That being said, the book doesn’t sacrifice the more mature diplomatic tone of the political left, and the characters in the story are most appealing and real when the reflect on the consequences of their radical actions.

It’s tempting to say that this radical slant is to blame for nobody having heard of the book, but I’m not that paranoid. Hell, I stumbled across the book because it was on display in the bookstore where I work. The cover quote from Neil Gaiman (who I respect and admire); “A wonderful important book…I’d recommend Little Brother over pretty much any book I’ve read this year” was what sold me. Excluding Alice and Dune, I’d say it’s true for me as well. Best thing is, THE ENTIRE BOOK IS AVAILABLE FOR FREE.

Well, I am being pestered to play Left 4 Dead as I type, and I also vowed to hit 71 in WoW. So I’ll tell you about those sometime soon.

Through The Looking Glass

There comes a time, in our modern age, when a writer feels a powerful compulsion to put his personal minutiae on the internet for the world to digest. Generally, it is best for him to ignore it. When he gives in, it is generally best for the world to ignore him. But here we are.

Chances are strong that you already know I am Hank Whitson; writer, procrastinator, smartass. If you want to know more, click on the dashing portrait to the right for my Facebook. To those of you without Facebooks… consider getting one? Regardless of how well you know me, it’s safe to wager you’ve come seeking some sort of entertainment, either to stave off the wild bores or to escape unpleasant tasks that are breathing down your neck.

Here you can expect witty Holkinsean commentary on recent trends in the media, important current events and brief reviews of movies, video games and books. I might post short stories and excerpts of my own writing here, until I can craft a proper home for them elseweb. On occasion I will talk about what’s going in my life; the sort of projects I’m working on, and the various demons trying to thwart me. That being said, I will do my damndest to keep pretentious reflections on my process and self-pitying “life is pain” posts to a minimum. Should I falter, call me out on it.

Right now I am in the middle of Audrey Niffenegger’s The Time Travelers Wife on audiobook, and I can honestly say that each chapter blows my mind. Other than recommendations by trusted friends, nothing is more likely to sell me on a story than a great premise. You might go so far as to call me a premise whore. Of course, nothing is more heartbreaking than looking at a good premise which fails to realize its full-potential, a “What if…?” which fails to answer all the subsequent “how about”s and “then what”s. And in their efforts to ask and answer all of these questions, many authors allow their characters to fall through the cracks, and really, Characters carry the story.

This is precisely where Niffeneger excels. Her dual-first person narrative develops her characters fantastically, allowing us to appreciate every angle of their unique circumstance. The much lauded premise is centered around a man who suffers from “chrono-displacement," a genetic disorder which plays out like temporal ADD. She answers basic time travels questions like “what would you say to yourself in the past?” but also breathes life into the romance genre, exploring more complicated inquiries such as “What would your relationship be like if you corresponded with your spouse as she was growing up?”

It is my most earnest desire to write books like this one day. Presently, I fear that I am on track to follow Frank Beddor’s footsteps with Looking Glass Wars. He had a great premise; Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland explored through epic battles a-la Star Wars. Despite a brilliantly defined atmosphere, developed by high quality concept art, a companion soundtrack and a pretty swank website, the characters are thin as the decks of card soldiers they do battle with. They possess the grim solemnity and angst of adolescence, but they lack the complicated emotional and motivational dualities which are inherent to that turbulent age. This triteness is exacerbated by pithy lessons like learning to be yourself and using imagination for good. To give you an example of what passes for wit and originality in Beddor's world, Queen Redd, based on the Red Queen of Carroll's Alice, is the main villain of the book, and the title of the second book in the trilogy is Seeing Redd.

There are plenty of other unrealized premises I could chose to pick on, but Beddor’s shortcomings are enjoying a particular clarity in my mind at present, as I am reading The Annotated Alice for the first time. I can only imagine how fans of the original must have felt when they read Beddor’s book. Even going backwards, it’s painfully clear how he failed to capture the spirit of Carroll’s masterpiece. He has made it plain that he was not trying to duplicate the former text, but one cannot help but wish that he took more from Carroll's characters. In the end, they are what make exploring the depths of wonderland so appealing. I don't mean to suggest that Beddor made no effort; Looking Glass Wars is rife with references, homages and inside jokes, but the man isn’t a skilled enough writer to do his concept justice.

It’s a shame too, because I believe Beddor’s multi media approach should be regarded as a signpost of things to come. It leaves me to wonder if we will soon see people Intellectual Property Engineers who will conceive, publicize and oversee fictional worlds, then hire more talented artists to truly bring them to life. I can see myself taking up that mantel, especially if I can’t hack it as a writer. But I want to try telling my own stories first. Just seems like the right thing to do.

That’s all for now. Be warned that this blog will not follow a strict update schedule. I live too fast and dangerous for that sort of commitment. Someone would end up hurt. Instead, I will try to provide readers with a sort of general forecast for future content in each post. Since we’ve still got that nice New Blog smell, you can expect scattered showers of updates popping up in the next few days, provided the impending academic pressure front doesn’t foul everything up. Good Bless and God Night.