Friday, October 28, 2011

#24 - Red Badge of Courage

If there's a difference between high school and university homework, it's not in the difficulty, or even the quantity. It's in the type. In high school, you had assignments, and take-home quizzes, and little reports and posters to do. In university, you have readings. Pages and chapters and books' worth of readings. Though this might make for a less intensive night of homework, it does make the transition from homework to the reading list less relaxing. Whereas before I could turn off the computer, sit on the couch and read, now it's just closing one book and opening the next. Certainly this is leading to some reduced enjoyment - but that is only part of the explanation as to why I didn't enjoy The Red Badge of Courage.

The Red Badge of Courage is considered as one of the best pieces of Civil War literature, or indeed any war literature. It was written by Stephen Crane, who died at the age of 28 from tuberculosis. He wrote this work just four years prior, during which time he had all of his experience with war. Wait, what? This means that when the young Crane wrote his battle epic, entailing all of the emotions and sensations of war, he had not set foot on a battlefield himself. This in part explains why his protagonist was the young soldier, who worries about his first experience in battle. Protip: He runs away the first time, eventually finds his way back, then fights bravely and carries the flag in the final charge. Through all this he feels the pride and despair and suicidal (the "red badge of courage" is a war wound) emotions of war. These emotions ebb and flow much like the battle itself, and mark the steady growth of the young soldier's psyche in quite a simplistic way.

The emotions are not the only thing simplistic in Red Badge - the whole book has been universally used as a school text precisely because it can be used as Intro to Imagery, Intro to Character, Intro to Theme. The colour imagery is liberally spaced throughout, and each character is reduced to a single trait instead of a name to make sketches even easier. It would certainly make it easier for grade-school essays, but it also made it much less fun - think A Man For All Seasons with a less interesting point in history. If any part of it is really well done, it's the psychological side of things - Crane really did put a lot of thought into how one might react on the field of battle. However, he wasn't sure how he himself would act, so he instead opted to have the young soldier react in ALL of the ways possible. He goes from cocky to scared to brave to wise to sombre and everywhere in between, and besides the overall trend RESEMBLING growth, it really seems more nonsensical than anything else. Overall, while I can see it being a good book for middle schools looking to mix in some Americana, it's just not that spectacular.

6/10

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

#23 - Crime and Punishment

Throughout the early stages of these readings, I've been constantly looking ahead to something. Looking ahead to the first Oldfield Option, looking ahead to On The Road, I've always had a bigger prize on the horizon. But throughout these first two dozen books, this one has been the one that has been taunting me the whole time. Crime and Punishment, the first of the terrifying Russian authors. I don't know what it is about the Russian authors that has seemed to become lore in my brain, but they have. I was equal parts scared and ecstatic to get to this one, and it seemed fitting that I began it upon coming to the University of Western Ontario for the first day of school.

The book centers itself upon Rodion Romanovych Raskolnikov, an impoverished student in St. Petersburg (edit: after writing this post, I looked at the Wikipedia page for C+P and discovered that the wording of the last sentence was almost identical, entirely accidentally) who kills and robs a rich old lady so as to have the funds required to finish school and start doing good deeds to make up for his crime. He then is faced with all of the trauma and emotions that come with a murder, eventually being brought down by the efforts of the investigator Porfiry Petrovich. Raskolnikov has a theory that he continually outlines throughout the book of the difference between the normal masses and great men, who can "step over" the lines of traditional morality in order to achieve greatness - in particular he names Napoleon Bonaparte as his example of greatness. He kills in an attempt to prove his theory, but immediately after the crime finds himself in an emotional turmoil, losing perspective and making what he would call "amateur" mistakes. The book is divided into 6 parts, as the book was serialized in a Russian publication upon its release in 1866. However, unlike many of the serialized works I've read, the plot was much more thought out and connected between the parts, as opposed to hacked together. This was because this was the first of Dostoevsky's great novels, completed after his stay in the Russian "gulag" prison system. An interesting aside is that while Dostoevsky's own theory - or rather Raskolnikov's - is rather revolutionary, he mocks the stirrings of revolution that will eventually become the Russian Revolution.

The book is the definitive example of a psychological thriller. The angle of seeing the book through the murderer's eyes is an interesting perspective that allows us to experience all of the emotions that Raskolnikov does. He goes through actual physical symptoms to angry tirades to debilitating depression in rapid episodes that show the full spectrum of the insanity he himself caused. His long walks through the streets of St. Petersburg and terror-filled dreams and strange encounters all add to these feelings. However, one thing is shockingly missing. Not one bit of imagery is used in the book. No symbolism or extended metaphors. The book hits home precisely because it is exactly what it wants to be. When they want to show terror they show you a terror, not a rubber duck that is supposed to symbolize it. There is no deeper meanings to the colour of the clothing, or even any mention of it. This is perfectly exemplified with his dialogues with Porfiry Petrovich, who is a charmingly calculating investigator, interested in a new field of thinking called "psychology". It is the dialogue, the discussion of the elephant in the room that really brings the book to life. This is such a refreshing change, especially to someone from a theatre background. The words are what matters, and the people.

When I finished reading this book, I had the buzzing feeling again. It was a challenging read, one that was perfectly suited to long nights up in residence. But I didn't know if I could give it a 10/10. While I enjoyed it immensely, it wasn't as challenging as Ulysses, or ground-breaking as Don Quixote, or as close to my own life as On The Road. But neither was it the more "very good" of books like One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. The decision wasn't made until about a week later, when I came home from a long weekend home. I had quoted, considered quoting or had the urge to bring up Crime and Punishment dozens of times. It is a book that stays with you, that affects your way of thinking, that sticks. Because of that, I am going to give it my fourth:

10/10