If you’re like me, by now you are probably pretty sick of vampires and zombies. The early 21st century has been overstuffed with books, movies, and video games about ghoulish monsters and post-apocalyptic hellscapes. Sure, the occasional gem (e.g The Walking Dead) has emerged, but most of the zombie craze has just been drivel. The over-saturation got so bad that Marvel even released a few comic runs under the Marvel Zombies banner. I guess the zombies weren’t the only ones with mush for brains.
Now, I spent most of this craze steering clear. I treated anything zombie-ish like it was, well, the plague. You wouldn’t find me any closer to zombies than Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead. But I now see that I made one crucial mistake. Hidden in the middle of that zombie craze, in 2006, Max Brooks (son of the great Mel Brooks) wrote a little bestseller called World War Z. So here I am, 10 years late to the party, realizing that this book is so much more than a zombie novel. In fact, I still really don’t like the title. But its subtitle is really what it’s all about: “An Oral History of the Zombie War.”
It was only after my dad, who’s also not into this zombie stuff, strongly recommended the book that I decided to give it a shot. World War Z was not at all what I expected. The entire story is told through at least 40 different interviews and is set entirely after the war. There is no action in the entire 400+ pages. Even without any active danger, there is still plenty of suspense in the heartfelt retelling of these characters’ traumatic struggle to survive. Brooks achieved a great deal of character development for each of his interviewees in a remarkably short period of time. The authenticity of each character’s voice, expertise, life experiences, and cultural upbringing was somehow clearly demonstrated and never overly expository. Brooks also showed a remarkably intricate knowledge of geopolitical forces, cultural histories across the world, and military vernacular and tactics. It is clear to readers that Brooks did a tremendous amount of research to support his novel. All of these factors, as well as the clarity of voice he brought to each of his numerous interviewees, made World War Z a human story, not a zombie story.
Even though the book was kind of thin on the “how” of the zombie outbreak, it barely mattered. What caused the outbreak, how zombies were able to actually exist was not a focus of the story, it was treated more as a given. Instead, Brooks focused on how people survived. Despite, the grim and catastrophic details of the war, along with the vast amounts of destruction and loss of life, the book managed to come off as cautiously optimistic. After all, humanity did win and did survive. There were plenty of errors and mishaps, but a key message was that, even in its darkest hour, humanity could stand together and stave off extinction.
World War Z is the kind of book that is not really about the plot. It is about ideas and human emotions. The zombies are merely the vessel to tell a string of human stories about loss, fear, hardship, resiliency, and, eventually, triumph. In the end, Brooks spun a very human tale about humanity, and in a clever mockumentary style that kept the story moving and engaging throughout. Though it border on repetitive about 2/3 of the way through, the story format picked back up and resolved itself consistently with its strong opening. I recommend giving the book a try, even if you think you don’t like zombie stories. Rating: 8 of 10.
I just finished a marathon reading session of Ernest Cline’s debut science fiction novel: Ready Player One. The rate with which I tore through this thing (four days) is evidence enough that it is highly enjoyable and totally engrossing. First published in 2011, I would imagine most of the intended audience (super-nerds and ’80s buffs) have already heard about this book and probably already read it. But there are rumors of a Steven Spielberg-directed movie coming out in 2018, which will prompt a new batch of readers to try this best-selling sensation before then (myself included). Ready Player One is an interesting collection of nostalgia-driven pop culture references and hard science fiction. Cline is clearly a big nerd himself, and the densely-packed pop culture references are clearly an homage to his own interests and obsessions, readers need look no further than the photo on the back of the novel, showing him leaning against a Delorean a la Back to the Future. Nevertheless, Cline also developed a comprehensive and immersive world that artfully draws upon the real world just enough to allow readers to fill in gaps and picture the story fully in their heads. I find that these sorts of reality-adjacent science fiction or fantasy novels find great success by drawing upon the familiar and emphasizing those small differences that drive their plots: think Harry Potter or Ender’s Game.
The basic premise of the novel is that, by 2044, the world has run out of fossil fuels, which combined with global warming and economic stagnation, has led to a prolonged global recession. The world is in rough shape. However, at the same time that the real world started to go down the tubes, a brilliant video game designer, James Halliday, developed a vast, free virtual reality that allowed people to escape from the sad doldrums of a society in decline. Dubbed OASIS, this virtual reality video game quickly grew into the dominant source of information, economy, and leisure for a majority of the world’s population. Then, upon Halliday’s death, the multi-billionaire released a video introducing a contest that would grant the winner full inheritance of his fortune and control over the fate of the OASIS. The ensuing competition drove a pathological obsession with Halliday’s formative decade, the 1980s, and makes for a fun future that’s obsessed with our past. Our hero, the poor and miserable Wade Watts, has dedicated his life to the search and the book chronicles his adventures searching for this fame and fortune.
I greatly enjoyed the novel, finding myself fully engrossed and drawn to the wonderfully detailed world of the OASIS that Cline developed. The puzzles and references that shaped Halliday’s Easter Egg Hunt were fun, nostalgic, and definitely cleverly constructed. I also found Wade’s characterization to be pretty fitting: a flawed loner with some serious self-esteem issues, but just enough courage and plucky cleverness to get things starting to go his way. Supporting cast like Aech, Art3mis, and Shoto were also pretty well done, though definitely cast over a bit during the novel’s second act. I didn’t want to put the book down, so I can’t say enough about how much fun it was to read, which is a tribute to Cline’s world-building. I don’t want to elaborate too much on the plot, as it is much more fun to be surprised, but I will say that it is wonderful and most definitely worth reading.
However, there were a couple of nit-picky criticisms to clal out as well. First, Cline makes a point early on that Halliday’s obsessions are with all things nerdy, repeatedly listing “movies, comic books, TV shows, music, and most of all, video games.” But then, there are never any comic book references, so why even say it? There were critical mentions of movies, shows, and songs, but none of the quests and almost none of the references were to comic books. I know this is a pretty minor complaint all told, but to call it out then not deliver is like a false promise. It seems like Cline was pandering to hook people early then forgot to deliver (or didn’t know as much about them himself, but wanted to be inclusive to all of “nerd-dom”). I was definitely disappointed, but I still did enjoy my fair share of Star Wars, Monty Python, and other awesome references throughout the book.
Second, I felt like Cline missed out on an opportunity to focus more on the “real world” of RPO outside of the OASIS. Yes, some important action happens there, and he does keep Wade and others at least relatively aware that their lives inside of OASIS are not their “true selves,” but beyond a few platitudes about starving citizens and decaying urban centers, Cline largely neglects any societal warnings or present day allegories that are so common in classic science fiction. It seems somewhat like a missed opportunity, but even so, a book made mostly for amusement rather than allegory and social commentary is still a good book if it succeeds at amusing readers, which Ready Player One certainly does. I just wish Cline had taken the concept a little deeper with those topics, giving the story a little more edge and philosophical oomph.
Lastly, this is not a criticism as much as a statement: Ready Player One is not for everyone. It was definitely written with an audience in mind – an audience that loves video games and nerd culture or grew up in the 1980s and is nostalgic for their youth. I, myself, was born a little later, but under my dad’s cultural stewardship, I grew up loving an appreciating a lot of these classic cultural phenomena. Sure, some of the references to arcades and TRs-80s were a little before my time, but Cline did a great job filling in the gaps to help paint a great picture of each cultural tidbits’ significance. If you can read this review and say, “hey, that sounds good,” then you’ll love it. If you hated the ’80s or were born in 2001, this may be a little much for you. And that’s ok, Cline, like his character James Halliday, just wants to share his interests with other people who appreciate them. Now go on, give it a try, if you’re anything like me, you won’t be able to put it down. Rating: 9 of 10
Amy Poehler’s entry into the world of comedic memoirs came out in 2014 during the peak of her critical and popular appeal. Six months before the finale of her iconic role as Lesley Knope on the incomparable Parks and Recreation and a couple of years into hosting the Golden Globes, Poehler was riding high, making a comedic memoir a good business decision for one of the biggest powerhouses in comedy. Following in the footsteps of her often costar and friend, Tina Fey, whose own memoir, Bossypants, was met with critical acclaim, Poehler offered up a fun and heartfelt reflection on her life and career. This could have easily become a carbon copy of Fey’s earlier work, as their paths to fame so often intersected in Chicago improv troupes, Saturday Night Live, and even co-hosting the Golden Globes. But instead, readers were treated to a truly honest insight into Amy Poehler’s life, written in a clear voice that really felt like she was reading it aloud in your head. Poehler fearlessly showed her heart on her sleeve, sharing as many mistakes, shortcomings, and insecurities as she did strengths and triumphs. She seems to take seriously her role as a voice for aspiring women in comedy and writing, reflecting often upon the difficulties of breaking into a male-dominated industry. The chapter written by Seth Myers, another wonderfully talented SNL alum, was a great addition to the book. It gave another insider perspective to the world behind the cameras and gave an honest look at who Amy Poehler really is. Poehler also frequently highlights that her life is more than her career, a revelation that is often expected in memoirs, but not always delivered. Her two young sons are regular features throughout the book, showing that she takes her role as a mother just as seriously as her career aspirations. This book is a wonderful adventure for her fans, those of us that have laughed as she made her name on SNL then delivered one of the best characters on one of the best TV shows of all time (Parks and Rec, duh).
Though I thoroughly enjoyed the book and certainly recommend it highly, there were a few small criticisms I had of the style choices and approach at times. First, it got kind of name-droppy at times. Poehler seemed pretty cognizant of this and did poke fun at herself for it, but it still could be a bit much, especially when a who’s who didn’t really add to the plot of the story. The chapter on Haiti was also a little uncomfortable. Poehler clearly meant well and is intelligent and self-aware enough to know this was a difficult message to convey, but it still came close to some Rudyard Kipling-esque “White Savior” themes at times. In her defense though, Poehler was embarrassed that this trip was her first time going to a developing country and admitted to some of the selfish thoughts and motives that often plague even those of us with the best intentions. Lastly, and probably most importantly, her insistence upon labeling her upbringing as “lower middle class” was bit tired. It seemed almost like pandering to relate to her readers and to counteract some of the inherent elitism of being a wealthy famous TV star now. “Middle class” would have been sufficient, especially when considering some of the finer details like the “large wooden bar in the finished basement” and the “lower middle class family with all the latest gadgets,” which seem to disqualify her from some of the struggles to make ends meet which trouble those family who actually come from lower economic classes. I believe that Poehler wasn’t born with a silver spoon and that was really the intent, but let’s also be honest that living in a Boston suburb with two cars and white collar parents isn’t exactly disadvantaged.
Even these negative points have their silver lining though, as they highlight the fact that our favorite stars are real people with real flaws just like the rest of us. And the beauty of this book is that I think Poehler would have expected that and been ok with it, she seems like the kind of person who would rather be honest than right, a trait which I really admire. Even more than her peers, Amy Poehler feels like a genuine and honest person who just happens to be famous, after some serious hard work of course (don’t worry I read that part too). Overall, if you (1) know who Amy Poehler is; (2) like funny people/books; (3) have ever seen Parks and Recreation, which should really be everyone; or (4) are looking for an amusing and entertaining book to read, then go read the book. Even if you said no to all of those questions, why not give this a try? You’ll like it. Rating: 9 of 10
I recently both read the novel and watched the film based on the novel of The Martian by Andy Weir. Since both came out relatively recently and there were some significant stylistic and event plot elements between the two, a combined review seemed to fit best, enabling me to compare and contrast the two versions. I will try to minimize spoilers in this review, but some comparisons will require referencing specific plot points, so anywhere that says *Spoiler* skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want to have anything given away.
The basic premise, if you don’t already know, is that the story is set a few years into our future, in a world where humans have been to Mars. The idea is still novel, but much like with the Apollo missions to the moon, NASA is running periodic reconnaissance and scientific manned explorations to the Red Planet. Our hero, Mark Watney is one of a team of six NASA astronauts that have been sent to Mars to continue learning and exploring the planet. Only a couple of days into their planned multi-week expedition, a massive storm hits and the whole crew is forced to abandon their base and return to Earth. However, in the confusion of the storm, Mark Watney is lost and presumed dead as the rest of the crew flees to angry planet to return to Earth. What follows is Watney’s desperate attempt to survive on a foreign and unforgiving planet, alone, and with no plan to escape.
Presented in a log format, the novel opens with Mark Watney speaking in first-person directly to the readers. From the first word, you are captured by Watney’s personality and the desperate nature of his situation. The author, Weir, is able to balance a format that provides some plausibility to the book’s narrative style (i.e. Watney’s first-person record of events) with the scientific and technical explanations that help a reader to understand how space travel and survival on another planet works, including, of course the theoretical advancements Weir’s nebulous near future setting makes possible. This combination: bringing hard science fiction into a personable and likable character’s log entries makes this book highly entertaining and an instant hit.
The first third of the book is pure science fiction gold. It opens with Watney already stranded on Mars, with the details of how he came to be stranded trickling in gradually through his log entries. One of the absolute best elements of the book is how well Weir portrays Watney’s loneliness. He is the only person on the entire planet. That makes the limited first-person perspective of the log entries a natural fit that only accentuates this feeling of loneliness. Watney’s perspective is THE perspective. The series of incredible and extremely dangerous crises Watney has to survive are met by the clever genius and biting wit of a super lovable character.
The problems start about a third of the way in, when Weir starts to abandon this log format for narration, switching back and forth between the other astronauts returning to Earth, the teams of NASA scientists on Earth trying to orchestrate a rescue mission for Watney, and even a weird segment told from the a third-person perspective describing a tear in the base’s fabric. I understand why Weir went with this format, it allowed him to further the plot while keeping the action in the present tense. One of the limits of Watney’s log was that the readers heard about all of his troubles after the fact, making it very clear he had already survived them. However, this tonal change felt like an interruption from a format that had been working brilliantly. I suspect there was probably a way that could have been finessed to give the more active feel to the drama*.
These narrative changes continue throughout the end of the book, as these additional viewpoints continue to eat into Watney’s share of the page count, almost relegating him back into the ensemble of characters. The log entries are fewer and farther between and the plot seems to gradually fall away from that empathetic sense of being stranded on Mars with Watney that the novel had at the beginning.
The novel ended solidly, if not brilliantly, and the book left a feeling of wonder at the true scale of Watney’s journey. Overall, I think that this book is a very solid entry into modern science fiction canon. It has some truly inspiring moments, a highly memorable main character, and the rare ability to make scientific exploration a fun and exciting topic for the masses. However, this book is also a case study in the limitations of being self-published. Weir, a first-time author, originally published the book for free on Amazon and it took off, with the print version following much later. This trajectory is a real cinderella story, but it also means that the novel didn’t have a chance to get screened and edited by multiple sets of eyes. In a sense, it was still rough around the edges and it’s not really any fault to Weir, more the circumstances around the books “publication.” All that being said, it is a highly enjoyable book with great concepts and a wonderful story, that occasionally feels raw and unrefined due to some mild to moderate stylistic and tonal jumps. I would definitely recommend it to all fans of science and science fiction or survival adventures.
Rating: 8 out of 10
The decision to make the book, The Martian, into a movie seemed like a brilliant idea. You had this story of an intrepid explorer surviving on his own in a foreign land with no help from the outside, à la Castaway, plus the allure of space travel and all of the crowd-pleasing CGI enhancements that come with it. It was a slam dunk. Now, cast Matt Damon as Mark Watney. Boom, say hello Oscars!
And that is actually what happened, only I’m not so sure those voters in the Academy actually read the book. As I relayed above, the book had some wonderful strengths, but the movie also had an opportunity to tweak some of the weaknesses and generate an even stronger product. In other words, The Martian movie could have been better than the book. That is a bold statement, and one I don’t take lightly. It is a rare feat, but this movie was really primed to take a unpolished nugget of a story and complete it.
Unfortunately, I think it missed the mark.** Matt Damon’s acting was superb and the visuals stunning. Plot-wise, it was ok. The main crux of the story was relayed well: potatoes, satellites and all that. But the issues were in the finer details of the movie’s presentation. For some reason, Ridley Scott’s movie decided to tell the story chronologically, starting from moments before the astronauts were hit by the storm that stranded Watney. The stories of the ensemble characters, all well-acted I might add, were thrown in from the start, giving the viewers no time to appreciate Watney on his own. That sense of loneliness and the log entry format was lost and a real opportunity was missed in the process. There were a few scenes where Damon spoke into the camera in a video log style, and those were the highlights of the film. Speaking to the wry wit and ingenuity of this lovable character. In the film, viewers are only given a few minutes to see this side of the character, while the book gave you about 100 pages.
Understandably, a movie cannot accomplish every single plot point in a 200 page book in the span of only two hours. But some key moments felt rushed and some of the most iconic struggle scenes from the book were left out of the movie entirely. Moments that changed how Watney approached he entire survival plan and showed the true strength of his character and depth of his cleverness. These plot cuts would have been more forgivable if they had not added multiple unnecessary scenes for the ensemble characters and an unbelievably hokey and ridiculous Hollywood ending. The last five minutes left such a bad taste in my mouth that I was surprised the Academy gave it a Best Picture nomination.
Overall, the movie had some shining strengths: Matt Damon’s superior acting skills, a strong supporting cast (including the notable performances of Kristen Wiig, Jeff Daniels, and Donald Glover), and some breathtaking visuals. The plot was solid, though it is hard to credit the movie with the plot, since Weir’s book laid it out pretty directly. But a lot of the directorial decisions surrounding tone and storytelling format, plot tweaks made for movie-goers, and the entire removal of the sense of Watney’s loneliness from the beginning of the story made the movie a weaker version than the original book. It is still worth seeing, especially if you have not read the book, but fans of Weir’s version may be disappointed.
Rating for book readers: 7 out of 10
Hypothetical rating for non-book readers: 9 out of 10
Best Picture Oscar considerations:
Though definitely the weakest overall film of the nominees, The Martian is a well-executed science fiction film about a man trying to survive in a desolate land with nothing but his wits and the supplies he can find. This extraterrestrial version of Robinson Crusoe features Matt Damon’s acting talents as the main character, Mark Watney in his struggle for survival. Though I have no complaints about Damon’s performance, and his Best Actor nomination is well-deserved, the nomination of this film for Best Picture seems like a stretch. I have already written about the differences between the film and book versions of the story above, documenting many of the film’s shortcomings and missed opportunities. Overall, I recommend it to science fiction fans, especially those who have not already read the book.
*Idea: maybe a voice recording function in the helmet of his spacesuit that integrated into the base’s log memory? I mean, why not? It’s science fiction after all.
The brilliant Tina Fey, famous for her writing of the cult classic, Mean Girls, writing and starring in the Emmy award-winning comedy, 30 Rock, and her years on Saturday Night Live! as head writer, host of Weekend Update, and professional Sarah Palin impersonator, has written her first book. For someone whose fame stemmed from her extraordinary talents as a comedy writer, it is no surprise that this book was an instant bestseller for its laughs and its deep reflections on the rise of a woman in comedy.
When you open this book, you are met with seven full pages of roaring praise for this memoir. There isn’t much more I can say in this review that hasn’t been captured a hundred times by all of its fans, but I wanted to just reflect on a few of my thoughts while reading. From the first page of the book, Tina Fey captivates readers with a heart-felt and hilariously self-effacing account of growing up as a delightfully weird kid and struggling to find her way in the big world of comedy. The great appeal of this book is how it straddles the line of being funny and still recounting the very real and sometimes upsetting travails of a hard-working, talented person’s rise to fame. Fey is honest and humble, treating readers to see behind the veil of the world of comedy and the amount of work that goes in behind the scenes.
Fans of Saturday Night Live! and 30 Rock are invited to relive these shows through Fey’s eyes, reading about the creative process behind famous political sketches and the team of writers that delivered hit jokes on both shows. Fey’s relationships with other SNL heavyweights Lorne Michaels, Amy Poehler, Jimmy Fallon, and Seth Myers are also fleshed out in a way that all fans of the show will love. There is an insight into the creative process and writing timelines that gives readers a whole new appreciation for these shows and the genius of writers like Fey who make them possible.
More than just a comedic memoir, Fey also recounts how difficult it can be for a woman to break into comedy, even one as brilliant as herself. Fey humbly recounts how she witnessed the transition of SNL from an “old boy’s club,” where the female comedians were often relegated to roles as props, girlfriends, or wives, into a show dominated by some of the best female comics of the century: Amy Poehler, Kristen Wiig, Maya Rudolph, and Kate McKinnon (not to mention Fey, herself). The systemic biases in these shows, and all of the previous steps on Fey’s journey, including Second City improv culture frowning upon a stage of only women, citing that at least one man was needed to keep the comedy going. These and other stories, only added some extra punch to Fey’s charismatic storytelling, making its message all the more important for everyone, not just women, to read and appreciate.
The sole flaw I found in this book is that, at times, Fey seems to expect that the entirety of her readership is female. This may just be that the style of some jokes felt like an “am I right, ladies?!?” sort of feel, but her “advice” segments in the memoir were largely focused on women: breastfeeding, skin care, and a few other topics. She even had an offhanded joke, where the punchline thanked men for reading. These moments were relatively brief, but as a man reading these few sections, I felt like I was eavesdropping on a conversation I wasn’t necessarily invited to. Is it because Fey just didn’t expect men to find her funny due to the same sexist social pressures she mentions over and over in this book? Or was it because, as a male reader, I am just unaccustomed to some of these topics and jokes? Either way, these slightly awkward moments are brief, and usually interrupted by some joke or reference that brings you right back into the story.
I also wonder if some of the self-effacing humor goes a little far. Fey is a bright, super talented, attractive woman, but she is so down on herself that it seems kind of sad. The jokes are all funny, but did she really think she was fat? Or that her troubles are so meaningless just because there are people out there with more physical dangers? I would like to believe that it is all a show, but does this insecurity, whether real or feigned, lessen her message about a strong woman breaking into a male-dominated world? Probably not, Fey seems confident in her awkwardness, making some of the self-deprecation seem almost like an act to further our amusement. After all, she is a professional entertainer. And a good one at that. Her strength of character is on display, and moments of weakness should really be welcomed and be viewed courageously for being so honest.
Overall: don’t let those comments dissuade you in the slightest. This book is a must-read for all fans of Fey, TV comedy, or autobiographies. I tore through it in a matter of days. The tone and style of the writing grabs you from the first page. Fey graciously invites readers into her hilarious and interesting life and leaves us wanting more. She lays laugh-out-loud humor into a heart-felt story with more ease than anything else I’ve read. Though I don’t normally read memoirs, this one is an instant classic and almost flawless.