#212 Marvel's Iron Man 3 Prelude (2013)

Authors: Will Pilgrim, Christos Gage, Ramon Rasonos
Title: Marvel’s Iron Man 3 Prelude
Genre: Graphic Novel
Year: 2013
Pages: 120
Origin: read online during April 2013
Nod Rating: 1 nod out of 5

Marvel has become a behemoth of the cinema in recent years, earning mega-bucks in theatres across the world through their films. The Avengers, Iron Man, Captain America, The Incredible Hulk, and Thor have changed the way that Hollywood views their “franchise” strategy – for good or for bad.

For good or bad – or shall we say, simply poor – comics have also added a new string to their bow: the tie-in graphic novel. Marvel’s intention is a simple one: continue adding to the adventures seen on screen. The Worm applauds the attempt to fill in the void that the movies are unable to cover, similar to the various novels/graphic novels of the Star Trek universe. The hope is that something greater can emerge that will delight and thrill keen fans.

However, when handled in such blasé fashion, the final product can be underwhelming and close to infuriating. In this particular comic, the awkwardly titled Marvel’s Iron Man 3 Prelude, the reader isn’t given any real meat on what will happen in the future movie. Rather than chart the exploits of Tony Stark/Iron Man, the reader is treated – or is that subjected to – the dull adventures of his wing-man, Rhodey/Iron Patriot. It is a wasted chance to help create a universe full of wonder, with the Worm left reading each page with a grimace, letting out a dull groan every once in a while. Only the most die-hard of fans will find this read of any interest.

All of which makes this book pointless and a waste of time. Unfortunately, the Worm has been suckered in before (with another “Prelude”, Fury's Big Week, which earned 1 pitiful nod) – and by extension, you also have been suckered in again (assuming that is, you have read both reviews). Therefore, the Worm makes a vow right now: he will not return to these cash-in tie-ins of comic book movies. The udders will forever be milked by Hollywood; it is up to the Worm to wise up, smell the coffee, and move on to better reads.

Buy it here if you dare!

#211 The Time Machine (1895)

Author: H.G. Wells
Title: The Time Machine
Genre: Sci-Fi Novella
Year: 1895
Pages: 130
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

‘To me the future is still black and blank – is a vast ignorance, lit at a few casual places by the memory of his story.’

Time travel has long mystified and excited readers. It has shown its popularity on movie and TV screens in the form of Doctor Who and Star Trek coming back into fashion, but its origins – within Science Fiction form – are found in written text. The Worm is a keen time-travelling fan – despite failing at several attempts to build his very own time machine – and who better to turn to, then to read from Sci-Fi’s very own Godfather: H.G. Wells.

Godfather, captain, Great-Father, or commander: Wells ticks the boxes of all conceivable categories. He is the creator of The Invisible Man, The First Men in the Moon, and The Island of Doctor Moreau. The Worm has had a previous encounter with Wells, having read and reviewed his influential book The War of the Worlds. However, the Worm was left feeling slightly underwhelmed – a feeling not unusual to the Worm, as you will know – and therefore, he stepped into a second book with caution. The Time Machine was the chosen text to reignite enthusiasm.

Such a feeling, then, was similar to the esteemed group that surround the Time Traveller at the beginning of the novella. The concept of time travel is put to them, with few converts to this idea (bar the story’s narrator). As one of them state: ‘You can show black is white by argument, but you will never convince me’. However, various ideas abound and passion is stoked by the possibility of jumping through time, showing the contrast of visions: ‘Just think! One might invest all one’s money, leave it to accumulate interest, and hurry on ahead!’ Or the narrator’s own vision: ‘To discover a society erected on a strictly communistic basis’. The Psychologist (there are no names, but rather the profession of the person) notes the observation of the machine:

‘We cannot see it, nor can we appreciate this machine, any more than we can the spoke of a wheel spinning, or a bullet flying through the air. If it is travelling through time fifty times or a hundred times faster than we are, if it gets through a minute while we get through a second, the impression it creates will of course be only one-fiftieth or one-hundredth of what it would make if it were not travelling in time.’

However, most are left non-persuaded by the Time Traveller, the narrator explaining: ‘I think that at that time none of us quite believed in the Time Machine. The fact is, the Time Traveller was one of those men who are too clever to be believed: you never felt that you saw all round him; you always suspected some subtle reserve, some ingenuity in ambush, behind his lucid frankness.’

This changes at a later date when the group return to the Time Traveller’s home for dinner only to discover that the man is bedraggled and starved, recounting a recent adventure that he has had in the future. The narrator notes: ‘You read, I will suppose, attentively enough; but you cannot see the speaker’s white, sincere face in the bright circle of the little lamp, no hear the intonation of his voice. You cannot know how his expression followed the turns of the story! Most of us hearers were in shadow, for the candles in the smoking-room had not been lighted, and only the face of the Journalist and the legs of the Silent Man from the knees downward were illuminated. At first, we glanced now and again at each other. After a time we ceased to do that, and looked only at the Time Traveller’s face.’

From this moment onwards the Time Traveller recounts his adventure, taking control of the story. Wanting to test the time machine, he travelled forward into the future in the hope of discovering the great inventions and ideas of mankind, before becoming stranded in 802,701 AD. He notes: ‘…the humour of the situation came into my mind: the thought of the years I had spent in study and toil to get into the future age, and now my passion of anxiety to get out of it. I had made myself the most complicated and the most hopeless trap that ever a man devised.’

It is at this point that the story takes on a familiar shape to the modern audience, in its division of races of the child-like innocence of the Eloi who live above ground, and the fearsome night creatures that live below, the Morlocks. Both live in separate spheres, yet at night the Eloi are taken with the Morlocks feasting upon their flesh. But, Well’s story is much more than a simple monster-tale; with his own beliefs on society finding a voice within these creatures. The book can be read as a commentary on the modern day evils of work and industry, in which the rich take the profit without getting their hands dirty, and how the workers are left to suffer the consequences. Such a view is, in Wells’ mind, unsustainable; the edifice will break down before too long:

‘Above ground you must have the Haves, pursuing pleasure and comfort and beauty, and below ground the Have-nots, the Workers getting continually adapted to the conditions of their labour.’

And:

‘Ages ago, thousands of generations ago, man had thrust his brother man out of the ease and the sunshine. And now that brother was coming back – changed!’

Unlike a recent, poor movie adaption, the Time Traveller does not destroy the system of the future to liberate the Eloi. No, he escapes from this nightmare to return to his own time (before disappearing again, but that last snippet is saved for you, dear reader). Rather, the saviour here is not the character of the Time Traveller, but H.G. Wells himself, firing off warning shots to the heads of industry around the world that they had better help their workers, or be faced to suffer the consequences as they are turned upon: ‘I grieved to think how brief the dream of the human intellect had been. It had committed suicide.’ Having written this work at the tail-end of the 1800s, it predicts – as much good Science Fiction does – the impending future. Within decades workers started standing up for themselves, overcoming the “Haves” in bloody riots and rebellions across the world. Wells believes such actions would bring about the suffering of everyone in society, in one large suicidal pact.

But such talk of future bloody revolution takes as away from Wells’ text. If the Worm was slightly critical of The War of the Worlds, he has found a home within Wells’ back catalogue in The Time Machine. It is a short book full of adventure and ideas, of threats and wonder. The Worm can predict one thing of his reading future: he will return to H.G. Wells full of confidence and hope of more escapades and exploits.


Buy it here

And read a similarly nod-worthy review here

#210 The American West (1994)

Author: Dee Brown
Title: The American West
Genre: American History
Year: 1994
Pages: 420
Origin: bought from Waterstones
Nod Rating: 4 out of 5

A subject that has long fascinated historians and writers alike, the Wild West evokes images of cowboys, guns and Indians. For the Worm it was a fictional place in which the usual rules – and the law – did not apply. An open land of endless miles, where one could become a ranger, a sheriff, or a thief: all with little regard for “real” history. The myths of this time have been used, abused and reused by countless fiction writers and Hollywood filmmakers: including cinema’s first milestone (The Great Train Robbery) and one of its lowest depressing slump (Will Smith’s Wild Wild West).

But, this land was once a real place. It is set in a real time, that of the nineteenth century. Despite Britannia ruling the waves, this century truly belongs to America: from a newly formed country it expanded westwards – as part of the much trumpeted Manifest Destiny – until it embraced a continent and spanned two oceans, setting itself up to become a world superpower. The West, then, is integral to the story of America’s rise. And, who better to recount this rise than a writer whose reputation is cemented by the famous work Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee?

Except, that is, Dee Brown’s The American West is not a recounting of America’s rise to glory. It is not a narrative, rather a series of chapters on particular events and themes that show America’s West, warts and all. It is not set through the viewpoint of the white-American intruder, but rather through the eyes of all who set foot in this land. Space is provided for the true cowboys of this time, as well as the innovative and daring adventures involving the cattle-trade. Furthermore, the rise of many boom towns are noted (including the infamous Dodge City), and, of course, the villains and modern-Robin Hoods of the period (notably that of Billy the Kid).

However, the book earns its applause in the attention devoted to the fortunes (or should that be misfortune?) of the various Amerindian (or Native American) tribes. Despite a terrible pattern setting in with each of these tribes (promises, broken promises, rebellion, and then death), Brown shows a keen eye in embracing these tribes and customs; all of which provides a heart that holds this book together. Those that stick in the Worm’s mind include Red Cloud (of the Sioux) and the Nez Perces tribe – and their intriguing leader, Joseph. It is a shameful period in American history, of which the lessons have not yet been fully learnt.

The interesting introduction reveals Brown’s earlier fascination with the American West. He recounts his time as a serviceman in the Second World War, using his time stationed in America to collect as many photographs of the past as possible. This led to a series of books, which in turn inflamed Brown’s career since then. It is little wonder that the tribes are given such emotional depth, considering Brown’s own involvement with the history of this time.

As Brown notes at the book’s end, the story ‘of the American West never really comes to an ending’. He discusses how each new generation will view the West through a fresh set of eyes, leading to renewed analysis and debate (as well as bad Hollywood movies). It is a fitting ending from a historian who values his source material and the lives who have come before. Hopefully, this period and land will have such mindful writers of the calibre of Brown in the future.


Buy it here

Books Vs. Movies

The recent reviews of Stephen King’s The Shining and Cormac McCarthy’s No County For Old Men has brought about a whirling debate in the Worm’s head; a debate that has been waging for decades when comparing novels and their cinematic counterparts: which is the better?

Some books are proven hard to adapt, ranging from Irvine Welsh’s Trainspotting and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. But sometimes, the later product of film unearths hidden beauty within the original text; and in such cases, the book becomes the forgotten sibling. Famously executed (and the Worm is forever indebted to Mr. J for this tidbit of knowledge) by Steven Spielberg with his hit movie Jaws; nobody thinks of novelist Peter Benchley when hearing the title.

Then there are those awful concoctions: the novel that follows the film. A terrible invention and cash-in of big movies, the Worm will do his best to avoid these. If you do find a lapse in the Worm’s judgement, please email with a pointed finger and mouthful of abuse. However, with movies taking centre stage and being the better known in public by millions, rather than a book’s thousands of readers, in the melee a few facts have been forgotten; for example, a few misguided souls on a forum spouted “information” that the Cohen brothers were first with their film, and McCarthy’s book was born out of this. And then, the water is muddied even further: McCarthy, in fact, wrote his story initially as a screenplay with the intention of it being a movie; when no takers appeared, he used the screenplay as the backbone to his novel (on which the Worm has previously discussed).

So, for the Worm’s reviews – of which there have been more than two hundred in the past four years – who wins in this mammoth fight to the death: the book or the movie? Let us find out, dear reader.

The Worm has read twelve books that qualify for this competition. Others have been discounted due to the Worm not having seen the companion movie (as is the case with the likes of Charles Dickens’ David Copperfield). The twelve are, in order of when the review was first published:

1. Less Than Zero by Bret Easton Ellis
2. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
3. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button by F.Scott Fitzgerald
4. Natural Born Killers by Quentin Tarantino
5. The Boy in the Stripped Pyjamas by John Boyne
6. Lord of the Flies by William Golding
7. Watchmen by Alan Moore
8. Batman Year One by Frank Miller
9. The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving
10. V for Vendetta by Alan Moore
11. The Shining by Stephen King
12. No Country For Old Men by Cormac McCarthy

By the Worm’s partisan reckoning it currently stands at 8-4 in the favour of Books. An easy victors for the books was undoubtedly Less Than Zero (the actor Andrew McCarthy not cutting it as the central character) and Wuthering Heights (there is no beating Bronte, especially with the recent 2011 adaptation). However, the other contests were closer affairs: Boyne’s original book about the German boy who befriends a death-camp inmate edged out the admirable film; whilst the Worm’s fondness for the Lord of the Flies movies seemed to cloud his judgement about the quality of Golding’s work (a 5 nodder, don’t you know). The inclusion of Quentin Tarantino’s script for Natural Born Killers appears, at first, an odd choice. However, the scripted version is significantly different from Oliver Stone’s later film; unfortunately, Tarantino-fans will not experience the superior earlier work. The score is further enhanced when taking into account the graphic novels within the list: 3 in total. Although thoroughly enjoyed, Zack Synder’s Watchmen cannot rival Moore’s genre breaking series from the mid-1980s. Less impressive was the 2005 action version of Moore’s V For Vendetta: the life being truly sucked out of the original. Whilst Frank Miller’s Batman Year One was not bested by an animated feature that stayed true to the former’s spirit.

8 victories for Books; only 4 for Movies. Two of these were originally short stories: Irving’s Sleepy Hollow story and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Benjamin Button. The subsequent movies – directed by Tim Burton and David Fincher respectively - and undoubtedly improved earlier designs, although the Worm still enjoys Fitzgerald’s creation of Mr. Button: born as an old man smoking cigars. These two stood alone for a long time until the recent readings of Stephen King’s The Shining and Cormac McCarthy’s No Country For Old Men. Although both of these books were devoured enthusiastically, they remain in the shadow of their superior movie counterparts.

Luck, it appears plays a significant factor in whether or not a movie will supersede its original text. For example, both King and McCarthy were trumped by directors who have defined cinematic excellence: Stanley Kubrick remains – rightly so – a director of high standing; whilst the Cohen brothers (a long time favourite duo of the Worm’s) scooped their first – and hopefully not last – Oscars for their version of No Country For Old Men. For a movie to win the day, it needs a dedicated team to trump the earlier text verison.

Books reign as champions of this bout, and Movies are left to lick their wounds. But the fight – as always – continues…

May's Monthly Digest

April saw the review of five books, ranging from Stephen King vintage horror to Oscar Wilde comedy. Let’s take a look at the Worm’s reading-action.

First review of the month fell to Wilde’s play, The Importance of Being Earnest. Earning a high flying 5 nods – and the first read to do so all the way since Shakespeare’s Richard III back in November 2012 – this is a delightful farce in which the two male leads manage to bumble their way to a successful settlement. This is Wilde at his peak, just before his downfall that led to his imprisonment. As all readers know, the Worm is rather stingy with 5 nodder reviews; watch and read this play whenever the opportunity arises.

Another high-scorer was Cormac McCarthy’s No Country For Old Men. This was an author-first for the Worm, who has glimpsed at the praise heaped upon McCarthy in recent years. The book failed to match the achievement of the Cohen brothers’ adapted film; however, it is an engaging book that thrills, unsettles and confuses. A worthy 4 nodder of a novel.

Stephen King’s The Shining faced the same obstacles as McCarthy’s novel; it, too, does not surpass Kubrick’s disturbing film. Unlike McCarthy’s novel, its world is sufficiently different from the movie for it to enjoy its own distinctive status. The reader gets to delve into the back-story of the ill-fated family, as well as the bond between father and child: all of which is mercilessly scraped by Kubrick. The Worm enjoyed the reading experience, and feels a tad guilty about awarding 3 nods. However, King has only himself to blame, with some shoddy passages and a seeming inability to successfully conclude chapters; and, indeed, the book itself.

Perhaps grateful to be at the 3 nodder benchmark is Will Richardson’s short Kindle-Single Why School? Read in two sittings on the Kindle, it was an engaging experience; Richardson is a man bursting to the seems with ideas about the changing state of education. Unfortunately, some of what he says doesn’t bear a direct relation to the real world. No matter, it was enjoyable and knowledgeable; the only pity is that it was so short.

And, holding up the bottom of these reads is the history textbook, United States 1776-1992. A no-thrills journey that manages to cover all key aspects of American history. As a novice in this area, the Worm always delights whenever returning to the New World: in finding out forgotten presidents, of Mexican wars, and of the Americans rise to world power status.

An interesting month of reading; not at all ‘the cruellest month’, as T.S. Eliot had us believe. But what of the future? Clearly slacking from reviewing duties the past few weeks, the Worm has much catching up to do. This includes Dee Brown’s history book, The American West; The Time Machine by H.G. Wells; Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood; as well as a growing number of graphic novels (including Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Strikes Again, and Mark Millar’s Kick Ass).

Therefore, it is time for the Worm to return to the darkness of his reading-pit, to devour more books in his ongoing quest to point the finger at every author under the sun. He will return. He will strike again.

#209 No Country For Old Men (2005)

Author: Cormac McCarthy
Title: No Country For Old Men
Genre: Novel
Year: 2005
Pages: 310
Origin: bought second-hand
Nod Rating: 4 nods out of 5

'That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
– Those dying generations – at their song,
The salmon‐falls, the mackerel‐crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.

An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.

O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing‐masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come'

'Sailing to Byzantium', by Y.B. Yeats

Famed American thriller writer, Cormac McCarthy, pinched – as all good writers are prone to do – words from the opening line of Yeats’ poem for the title of his 2005 novel. Better known as the Cohen brothers resulting Oscar winning film, this story follows the chase and contrasting view-points of three men: the devilishly evil Anton Chigurh; the plucky chancer Llewellyn Moss; and the older sheriff Ed Tom Bell.

The plot finds Moss stumbling across a drug deal gone bad; dead bodies litter the ground and a bag of millions has been left. Thinking his chance has come, Moss grabs the cash. But the cash has an owner, and hitman and sociopath Chigurh is sent in to reclaim it. Shoot outs abound in this book of cat and mouse, with the sheriff always two steps behind in attempting to help Moss and solve the crime. These three men all had different, at times, competing philosophies. There is the sheriff of the old ways and the old world, and Chigurh – a new breed, ready for the cold, clinical and soulless future. Moss himself is stuck between these two worlds – wanting glory and being selfish to go for it, but finding himself unprepared.

Brilliantly played by Javier Bardem in the Cohen brothers’ film, the essence and menace of Chigurh is present within McCarthy’s text. If anything, he is shown to be even more violent, with various shoot-outs being done away in the film. He toys with those around him, using a symbolic coin as the surveyor of destiny; something that McCarthy devotes considerable detail, especially in Chigurh’s conversation with the unwitting gas-station owner. Better informed of Chigurh’s threatening motives is another, less powerful, hitman, Wells. Chigurh discusses his own unrelenting ethical code to his work, all of which results in Wells’ demise in a passage that shows off McCarthy’s ability to string a well crafted sentence:

‘Just you do it. You godammed psychopath. Do it and goddam you to hell.
He did close his eyes. He closed his eyes and he turned his head and he raised one hand to fend away what could not be fended away. Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him. His mother’s face, his First Communion, women had known. The faces of men as they died on their knees before him. The body of a child dead in a roadside ravine in another country. He lay half headless on the bed with his arms outflung, most of his right hand missing. Chigurh rose and picked up the empty casing off the rug and blew into it and put it in his pocket and looked at his watch. The new day was still a minute away.’

One of the story’s unsettling moments is Chigurh’s visit to Moss’s young widow, after Moss has been erased from the story. He finds her and kills her having made a promise to Moss that he would; the widow tries to reason, saying how such a promise doesn’t make sense any longer, now that Moss is dead. But Chigurh explains himself:

‘I had no say in the matter. Every moment in your life is a turning and every one a choosing. Somewhere you made a choice. All followed to this. The accounting is scrupulous. The shape is drawn. No line can be erased. I had no belief in your ability to move a coin to your bidding. How could you? A person’s path through the world seldom changes and even more seldom will it change abruptly. And the shape of your path was visible from the beginning.’

The sheriff is not simply a bystander to events; his voice provides the heart of the novel, being interspersed within the action. His words are a stark contrast to the shoot-outs and action depicted in the novel. A man of older times, he realises his time and generation are passing as the body-count rises:

‘I don’t know. I used to say they were the same ones we’ve always had to deal with. Same ones my granddaddy had to deal with. Back then they was rustling cattle. Now they’re runnin dope. But I don’t know as that’s true no more. I’m like you. I ain’t sure we’ve seen these people before. Their kind. I don’t know what to do about em even. If you killed em all they’d have to build an annex to hell.’

The sheriff has the last word in the novel, recounting his dream that includes his late father in a seemingly clouded purpose. Bumbling could be one word used to describe this, but the Worm is more charitable in believing that McCarthy is attempting to illustrate the divide, beliefs and values of the different generations of characters within the text. Being set in 1980, before the current IT revolution, it was a time in the last throes of customs that had benefited the industrialising world. Today, in 2013, the last vestiges of the old world are fading around us. Sheriff Ed Tom would surely be a relic, just thirty years later.

But all is not well with the novel. McCarthy’s lack of inverted commas for dialogue is confusing at times, bringing the Worm to wave his fist in annoyance on many a page. Having minimal knowledge of McCarthy’s previous work, the Worm is left wondering why such a tactic is employed. It could be a stylistic feature, as seen – better utilised – by other writers, notably Trainspotting author Irvine Welsh. Or, as the Worm’s suspects, it could be a telling mark from the story’s previous incarnation as a screenplay: why bother adding all those pesky speech-marks? (The Worm realises all he need do is walk into any book-shop and find the ‘M’ section, open up a different McCarthy book, and find the answer… but that would be far too simple, wouldn’t it, dear reader.)

One bugbear of many a-viewer of the Cohen brothers’ film was the exclusion of Moss’s final death scene. Moss acts, in many ways, as the central mover of the story, and we – the reader/viewer – invest in him in attempting to survive or tie up the plot in a satisfactory way. Like the film, McCarthy does away with any such resolution. In fact, the book focuses more on Moss’s return to action after his bloody shoot-out with Chigurh, as he picks up a young-female hitchhiker. But yet that resolution is missing, with McCarthy’s cheekily moving the focus away. With Moss’s death, the reader is left with Chigurh’s fury and the sheriff’s same reflecting manner. For this, the Worm praises the author (and to a lesser extent to the Cohen brothers for having the courage to stick to the source material) in utilising this move in the plot. It complexes and unsettles the reader; putting us in a position where we never usually find ourselves, both within written fiction and in the cinema.

Although it falls just short when compared to its cinematic brother, McCarthy’s No County For Old Men is an engaging book that asks many questions, but fails – intentionally – to answer them. It unsettles and confuses, and yet at the same time is wrapped up within the dimensions of a fairly standard thriller novel. In Anton Chigurgh, McCarthy has created an interesting and complex character; something that is becoming a rare breed in modern fiction. It is a read in which the Worm has become fond of, and in which other readers should – at the very least – take a peek at.


Buy a copy here

#208 The Shining (1977)

Author: Stephen King
Title: The Shining
Genre: Horror Novel
Year: 1977
Pages: 410
Origin: bought at a second hand bookstore for £1.99
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

“Here’s Johnny!” teased the warped and insane Jack Nicholson in the cult film The Shining. It is a movie that has terrified a-many over the past three decades; a film that can stand its head high and pride amongst the heavyweights of Stanley Kubrick’s catalogue.

However, it is an image at odds with Stephen King’s original creation. Before the image of the axe smashing through the door and before the twins standing in a hallway of oozing blood there was the less extreme text that had a bigger, more caring spirit. King himself has previously stated his distaste for Kubrick’s film; he even help oversee a later television adaption that remained truer to the source material. But in a battle between the two, which version stands up best? Thankfully, the Worm is here to help decide the contest.

Although, it must be stated for the record, the Worm’s interest in reading his first Stephen King novel for this blog is not motivated by the Kubrick-King “feud”, but rather by the news that the author was planning and writing a follow-up novel to The Shining: Dr Sleep. It follows the life of Danny decades after the horrific events occurred at the Overlook Hotel. The Worm was interested in what King would do have returned to a much earlier creation, and therefore the gauntlet was laid down to read his first novel before devouring the second.

The plot is a well-known one: Jack Torrance is given the job of maintaining the snow-ridden Overlook Hotel during the winter season. A struggling writer, he intends to write his masterpiece amongst the peace. Also present is his wife and their son, Danny; it is Danny who has the ability to “shine” and look into the thoughts and emotions of others. He is aided (and hindered) in this ability by his imaginary friend Tony; wonderfully shown in Kubrick’s film by a waggling finger (1-0 to Kubrick, it would seem). Whilst at the hotel, events take a turn for the worst; well, this is the horror genre, after all. Jack is seemingly possessed by the potency and history of the hotel, whilst Danny’s images of death and disaster become all the greater. The hotel’s supernatural spirit takes hold, turning the father against his family.

The book goes into greater detail into the mentality of Torrance, his relationship with Danny and the turmoil of his marriage to Wendy. Where the film scratches the surface, in a seeming triumph of style over substance, King is intent to get across the message that Jack Torrance is not a maniac in the making, but rather a normal guy who is moved to do extraordinary things. This investment, despite being heavy-loaded in the first section of the novel (more than one hundred pages pass before we move onto the setting of the hotel) pays dividends come the book’s climax. Here, in a bloody pitted duel between father and son, Jack is able to reach into the love he shares with his son and help him escape by bludgeoning himself to death (King equalises to make it 1-1).

However, the book has many annoying features: nowhere more clearly than in King’s writing style. He displays a seeming inability to tie up a chapter, adding superfluous text and clogging up the book with pointless pages of print. Yes, it is true that the reader finds out much more of the family than the film can offer; but it must be asked: is this entirely beneficial? The hints and forewarning of the trouble ahead is enough to distract the reader, as is the annoyance that is the character of Danny. Shown in the film to be a quiet, disturbed child, in the novel he takes on an irritatingly developed mindset; one more fitting for a child of ten or more years, rather than a six-year old (2-1 to Kubrick).

But, the biggest gripe of King’s novel is the ending (again, demonstrating his inability to successfully conclude a segment of writing). Yes, we have the death of Jack as well as the blowing of the boiler – itself a metaphorical indicator of the rising tension throughout the novel – but after this point we, the readers, are left to follow a pointless summary (Final score: 3-1 Kubrick).

Both novel and film exist and stand on their own merits. Each is a different, and for that both reader and cinema-goer should be thankful. For King and fans of the original novel, there is no hope of defeating the movie, such is its iconic status. However, King deserves the kudos for bringing these characters to life. Despite the sometimes pedestrian writing, the author brings a tale to terrify us – but a tale that has heart on the possibilities of love triumphing over evil. This may not Stephen King’s best work; but it may just be his most memorable.

Buy it here

#207 Why School? (2012)

Author: Will Richardson
Title: Why School?
Genre: Education
Year: 2012
Pages: 50
Origin: read on a Kindle
Nod Rating: 3 nods out of 5

‘Education, education, education’, once trumpeted young, dynamic leader Tony Blair; this was, of course, before this image was replaced with the older, deceitful, disgraced former leader Tony Blair. But that word – not necessarily repeated three times – is one loaded with ideology and contrasting viewpoints. Education remains a hot potato in political terms, with current Education Secretary Michael “I-don’t-listen-to-anyone” Gove pressing ahead with some of the biggest changes seen in a generation. In short, it is a topic that almost nobody can agree on.

So, please enter the arena Mr Will Richardson: a man who embraces technological change. He argues that education must change in order to obtain the full potential of a new generation who cannot or will not play by the old rules; hence the book’s subtitle: ‘How Education Must Change When Learning and Information Are Everywhere.’ It is, as Richardson notes, a mammoth task: ‘The roots of 150 years of tradition around schooling run deep, especially when most of us are products of that experience.’ But it is a debate that has raged in educational circles for more than ten years, most notably with Marc Prensky’s announcement of “Digital Natives”, and how the old theories of education will not suffice.

Thankfully, at no point does Richardson become a demagogic writer; and neither does he maintain a firm standpoint. His reasoning is the result of simple common sense on the changing world around us:

‘The abundance of information and people connected online is changing government (Wikileaks), health care (Foldit), music (Spotify), shopping (Amazon), and just about every other aspect of our lives in one way or another. Institutional change is everywhere, and, as author Clay Shirky says, people are finding out quickly that “it’s not optional.” So why would we think the institution of school would be immune? It’s not.’

Furthermore, Richardson highlights the National Council of Teachers of English who recently issued a set of twenty-first century “literacies”; all of which can be met – the author argues – by the use of technology in the classroom. These include developing proficiency with the tools of technology, building relationships with others, solving problems collaboratively, as well as create, critique, analyse and evaluate multi-media texts, among others.

Published as an e-book by the fantastic TED – and bought as part of the innovative Kindle Single series - Richardson uses this platform to “flesh out” ideas. The central idea is the need to put in the dustbin of history the old ways of doing things that don’t help children learn; including pointless testing and rote learning. Instead, the thirst for learning – and equipping students to learn successfully – is the central key. Richardson writes:

‘I’d articulate the shift to teachers like this: Don’t teach my child science; instead, teach my child how to learn science – or history or math or music.’

But have no fear, dear reader – the Worm is not a 100% signed up Richardson fan. The author places too great a faith in the power of technology. Yes, undoubtedly it has the ability to join others in a one massive network, but technology – new flashy shiny things – also have the power to distract students and sidetrack a lesson. The old ways cannot be simply forgotten just because they are “old”; the best bits of both old and new must be married together with the aim of evolutionary development, rather than revolutionary overthrow. Ultimately, a teacher and student should still be able to exist without the use of an iPad or a blog to come in and save the day.

Having read an early published work by Richardson (on the topic of blogs), the Worm can safely state that Richardson has developed as a writer of ideas. However, this short e-book is devoid of the ambition of grapping the reader by the scruff of the neck; rather, it attempts to get across an opinion in a fairly light-hearted manner. Richardson is a good writer who pokes fun and makes jokes whilst making many rational points. The Worm, for one, would like to read much more of such points in a form larger than this Kindle Single.

Buy it here
or
Read Will Richardson's blog here

#206 United States 1776-1992 (2001)

Authors: Derrick Murphy, Kathryn Cooper, Mark Waldron
Title: United States 1776-1992
Genre: History
Year: 2001
Pages: 410
Origin: a tried and trusted library book
Nod Rating: 2 nods out of 5

Two hundred and sixteen years of history of one country, contained into four hundred and ten pages of text. The United States seems to hold a special allure amongst historians: of the new world freed from the tyranny of the old, expanding to become the world’s only superpower after decades of frantic growth. It is like the countries of the world – in language and customs – and yet, unlike anything else on this planet. A land of contradictions; the same country that can produce works of art of the like of the Worm’s favourite author, William Faulkner, and also produce a President of the make-up of George Bush.

This textbook focuses on particular eras of the history of the United States, including the early years of Washington and Jefferson; Western expansion in the 1800s; the causes and course of the Civil War; the consequences of the war in what is termed ‘the Gilded Age’, foreign policy, including the Spanish, First and Second World wars; the boom and bust of 1919-1933; Roosevelt’s New Deal period; the Cold War; the civil rights movement, and recent domestic policy.

There is a large focus on the second half of the twentieth century, with two whole chapters devoted to the Cold War (including one on the USA in Asia from 1945-1973), as well as two focusing on domestic policy in the post-war period. It is noted that these are particularly big events in American’s recent history; but the extended focus skews the balance of the book.

Ultimately, this is everything that anyone would need in becoming acquainted with such a history. For the Worm, this wasn’t a first experience of reading up on the history of the States; however, it was interesting to find focus on different presidents. These included the importance of the Polk administration in the expansion of the west in the 1840s, the growing tension of Lincoln’s presidential election victory in 1860, as well as the succession of failed presidencies in the post-Civil War period, whose scandals and carpet-bagging put many modern corruption incidents in the shade.

As can be surmised by this “best-bit” collection, the book focuses heavily on the men (usually white, usually Christian) in charge, and less on faceless social changes. Regular readers of this blog might find it a tad rich of the Worm to be criticising this book for doing the exact same thing the Worm scolded Sked’s history of the Habsburg empire for not doing; and yes, dear reader, you would be right: the Worm is an erratic creature. However, the lack of historical debate – despite bite-sized chunks, such as the Turner Thesis relating to the idea of America’s ‘Manifest Destiny’ – leaves the reader wanting much more from the reading experience.

Of course, you – the readers out there – might wish to dispute that this book never had the intention of providing greater insight into America’s history. And, you are correct to object. On the plus side of this publication are the strong collection of maps, a framework of key events, and a glossary of useful terms. Furthermore, there is an interesting feature of the evolution of the governmental departments, including who held what in the key ministries as the decades progress.

This book is a solid history that never threatens to become a captivating read; it keeps to the facts, and for an introductory overview of two hundred years of history, it fits the bill quite well.


Buy it here

#205 The Importance of Being Earnest (1898)

Author: Oscar Wilde
Title: The Importance of Being Earnest
Genre: Play
Year: 1898 (originally performed 1895)
Pages: 60
Origin: read on the Kindle
Nod Rating: 5 nods out of 5

‘The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily. That is what Fiction means.’
Miss Prism, The Importance of Being Earnest

The witticisms of Oscar Wilde are, perhaps, known more widely than his very works of fiction. Such quotes range from the humorous to the wise, including ‘Experience is simply the name we give our mistakes’ and the sublime and uplifting: ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars’. His smaller works, including poetry and prose, fail to stand-up to such wordplay; all, but his greatest success as a writer, The Importance of Being Earnest.

However, his biggest triumph brought about his downfall. A feud with the Marquess of Queensberry led to a courtroom trial in which Wilde’s homosexuality was revealed, resulting in imprisonment for the playwright. The fallout led to the play being closed and Wilde’s exile in Paris where he soon died. Such a story was enough to capture the heart of the Worm; his only previous contact with Mr Wilde was in the form of the lone novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray. Read in the days before the blog was born, it failed to excite the Worm. The Importance of Being Earnest would be a different story altogether.

The play – like many other great plays (notably Gogol’s The Government Inspector) – is a comedy of mistaken identities. Two friends take on the moniker “Earnest”, leading to a serious of mishaps, arguments and interesting conversation about ‘Bunburying’. Its format is one followed through the years in British comedy, with Cleese’s 1970s sitcom Fawlty Towers coming easily to mind. The play’s subtitle – A Trivial Comedy For Serious People – serves it just as well now, as it did in the late Victorian period. Wilde’s trademarked witticisms abound on every page, as found dressed in the role of the ever playful Algernon:

‘The truth is rarely pure and never simple. Modern life would be very tedious if it were either, and modern literature a complete impossibility!’

As well as the famous:

‘All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his.’

But more than this, Wilde pokes fun at the society around him (the very same society that would soon condemn him), including the importance placed on manners and class. Jack is forbidden to marry due to lack of social standing; his redemption is found in a ridiculous back-story.

For those unacquainted with the play, watch it first. Reading the written word of the play was never the original intention; however, Wilde’s fast wordplay can only be fully enjoyed – and understood - when having the leisure to read. The Worm does not give the play 5 nods for its characters or plot, but rather in the full force of Wilde’s writing. His downfall may have led to a curtailment of more works on the stage, but his fame was secured with this masterful and delightful play.

Buy it here