Reading Challenge: 1 Day, 1 Book

One of my many challenges, as a striving author, is figuring out what people read and why. Why is Game of Thrones so popular, for instance? Is it mainly due to the TV show? No doubt, cross promotions boost sales, but HBO would not have spent millions bringing the book to life without an established fan base. But in this current ADHD era, A Song of Ice and Fire, a 6+ book series of up to 900 pages each, defies convention. YouTube, PS4 and the Walking Dead offer instant gratification, while the oldest entertainment medium on Earth (besides oration) can be excessively time consuming. For this reason, I often wonder how time affects story. For example, I forget names and plot points after weeks of reading. But I have also found time to be a benefit, since spending more of your life with a character develops familiarity and attachment. This is why people often say the book was better, since even the most faithful adaptations deal with time constraints. If you’ve never read a Harry Potter book, you may not form an emotional connection after only knowing him two hours in the theater.

This got me to thinking how people perceive novels based on how quickly or slowly they read. I’ve watched my daughter struggle for months to get through a book, and when she’s done, she usually feels apathetic toward it. Unless the story really grips me, which is rare, I take a leisurely pace, but in college I could knock out a French author in a weekend. Did the accelerated pace alter my perception? Is my love for the classics based on deadlines? To answer this question, I will attempt to read a novel in a single day; I know that I can technically do this, but skimming through a book for relevant information defeats the purpose of story telling, which is why I hate and have never used Cliff’s Notes. A story needs to be felt as much as understood, and feeling takes time.

For this little experiment, I have chosen The Maze Runner by James Dashner, due to it’s average length for Sci-Fi/Fantasy (374 pages), and because it has been recently made into a movie.

The questions I will then attempt to answer are:

1) Can I comfortably read 374 pages in a single day? This might end up a fiasco, if I only get halfway through it . . .

2) Will the accelerated reading rate hinder or enhance my enjoyment of the story?

3) Will the accelerated reading rate reflect more positively or negatively on the film? In other words, if I spend the same amount of time (1 day) on both the book and the film, will my emotional investment equal out?

By answering these questions, I hope to get a deeper understanding into how people read and why they enjoy certain forms of fiction. I will then post my results along with my review of The Maze Runner. 

Ages of Aenya Book Trailer!

The most difficult voice for a kid to play

When I was a kid, I used to play what I called “episodes”. Suffering from the writer’s disease at a tender young age, and with no time to get all the stories constantly popping into my head on paper, I resorted to the medium of toys. I did not know another kid who did this; everything was laid out in advance, like a storyboard running in my head. I knew what characters were to be featured, what they would be doing, and what their dialogue would be. Most of the time, I was alone and trapped in my house, so I had to act out every part, pitching high notes for Skeletor, deepening to a manly drawl for He-Man, or scratching my throat for Cobra Commander. I must admit, Soundwave from Transformers was the ultimate challenge. But here’s where the crazy comes in: I was not only the writer, director and actor of my own Robot Chicken, but also the camera, recording everything in my head; so even though I didn’t actually have a camera, if anyone uttered a word while I was playing, I became furious, because they were “ruining the scene” and I would have to start all over. 

Times sure have changed. As technology advances, my parents fears that I may have been prone to schizophrenia are no more. Thanks to Apple, most kids nowadays plays the same way I did in the 80’s, except that now they actually have cameras and are actually recording something! My nine and four year old, along with her friends, use the iPad to make Shopkins videos. YouTube is full of kids and their toys doing the same. If only I had such technology at their age!

My kids love these things . . . for some reason.

       

Recently, my nine year old insisted I buy her this new video app, which I was reluctant to buy, since she already has so many. But this program was impressive (as you’ll soon see); she even enticed me with the possibility of making a book trailer. 

Now, for professional use, this is very limited; it’s designed mostly for kids, to be as user friendly as possible. You are limited by a small set of music and graphics, and what’s more, can’t even choose the video’s run time or the number of shots or the length of those shots. All I could do is write a bit of text and then drop images into the predetermined slots. Looking at these limitations, I told her it just wasn’t going to work out, much to her disappointment, but later that night I was determined to make something of it, and the end result, I think, is promising. I have always wanted to make use of YouTube and I think, with better artwork and a better program, I could make something really special. This is just a “proof of concept”. So without further ado, I give you the first of many, the Ages of Aenya Book Trailer:

 

               

Is "Tarzan" Racist?

Long before Superman or Batman became household names, there was Tarzan. Originally published in 1914, Tarzan predates Superman by a good twenty-four years. In many ways, he is the first superhero. Children growing up in the 20’s and 30’s were as familiar with the ape man in comics, toys, and even at the movies, as the most beloved DC/Marvel characters of today. He further went to influence a generation of writers and scientists. According to Wikipedia,

Tarzan’s primitivist philosophy was absorbed by countless fans, amongst whom was Jane Goodall, who describes the Tarzan series as having a major influence on her childhood. She states that she felt she would be a much better spouse for Tarzan than his fictional wife, Jane, and that when she first began to live among and study the chimpanzees she was fulfilling her childhood dream of living among the great apes just as Tarzan did.[7]

Tarzan, however, was born not from the pages of comics, but the novel by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Like Dracula and Frankenstein, the name is recognized by most everybody even though most people have never bothered to read the actual book. As of this posting, the character is one hundred years old, but despite the recent Disney adaptation, his popularity has dramatically waned over the years. You’re not likely to see kids sporting Tarzan pajamas or asking for his image on birthday cakes.

Nineteen-fourteen was a different time. Knowledge of Africa, where the novel takes place, was sketchy at best, which is why for the longest time it was referred to as the “dark continent”. Writing about Africa at the turn of the last century was to explore the frontiers of science. Today, you can tune into Discovery Channel for any number of documentaries about African tribes, lions, or watch “reality” shows like Naked & Afraid, filmed on location. Without mystery, Africa loses much of its appeal. Aside from that, our ethics have changed. Technological excesses coupled with an expanding industry and population has beaten the jungle into submission. We are more concerned with conservation and environmentalism now, so that the iconic image of a man wrestling and killing a lion seems cruel and outdated. But I am not the type to judge a book by the ethics of our time. No doubt, our moral compass will shift in the future, and things we deem acceptable today will appear abhorrent in a century or two. But what I found impossible to ignore is the novel’s excessive and blatant racism. We’re not talking “Upworthy” racism here, where people cry foul for calling a black model “exotic”. In my view, we are often too politically correct, especially when we ruin a person’s career over a single racist comment. But even for 1914, Tarzan of the Apes is egregious in its treatment of black people, which made it hard for me to read.

I became interested in Tarzan after reading Edgar Rice Burroughs’ The Land that Time Forgot and the first in his John Carter series, A Princess of Mars, both charming in a pulp fiction sort of way, where the hero always does the right thing for the sake of doing good. For me, Burroughs is a refreshing departure from the ponderous and pretentious fantasy novels crowding shelves these days, with their amoral antiheroes and severely cynical outlook (see: Game of Thrones). At one point, I joked that I might have been Burroughs in a past life, owing to his penchant for monsters, adventure, and of course, naked heroes. I am even planning a similar story, about Thelana living in the jungle, and thought this book might help to inspire me (it didn’t). But after reading Tarzan, I decided to distance my name from his.

With Tarzan, I thought I knew what to expect, and was not unsatisfied in that regard. All the flaws in Burroughs’ writing are present: excessive exposition, melodrama, stilted dialogue, and sentences that can never be too long or lacking in modifiers. But its the concept that sets Tarzan apart from his other works, making for a superior though not quite classic novel. As most people are aware, Tarzan’s parents, the Lord and Lady Greystoke, are stranded off the coast of Africa. Alone and with few provisions, and a baby on the way, this makes for great drama, but food and water are rarely an issue. It’s the lions and panthers and gorillas that pose a constant threat. Was Burroughs ignorant to real survival situations or simply playing up to expectations? Needless to say, the people of that time would likely be surprised by Naked & Afraid in that the survivors are not constantly fending off lions. Even the gorilla, which we now know to be passive and intelligent, is portrayed as little more than a mindless killer.

When the heir to the Greystoke name grows up, the book takes a dramatic downturn. Being raised in the jungle, Tarzan becomes superhuman, someone to give Batman a run for his money. Not only can he out-wrestle a gorilla and lift weights that would otherwise take four men, but like Wolverine, he possesses superior senses and can even heal faster. In one embarrassing passage, Burroughs emphatically states that the “lower orders” have no advantages over humans with regard to their olfactory senses, that with training, a human’s nose can rival that of a dog. Even in 1914, basic canine biology was known. Doubtless, a little research would have helped the story a great deal. But readers of that time were not as demanding of scientific accuracy. Now super powered protagonists are all well and good, even if implausible, but Tarzan’s abilities are so ill-defined, there is rarely any sense of danger. The other problem is the novel’s lack of focus; it reads like a hodgepodge of loosely connected adventures, like the serialized pulp Sci-Fi/adventures popular in magazines at the time. No wonder Rudyard Kipling, author of The Jungle Book (1894), said Tarzan of the Apes was written so that Burroughs could “find out how bad a book he could write and get away with it.” In one chapter he is hunting a lion, in another defending his ape mother from an aggressive male, and still in another he is killing black people.

This is where racism rears its ugly head. Tarzan kills a lot of black people, wantonly and with little compassion. But what’s worse is how he does it, with a noose, hanging and then gutting the victim with a knife. Now, I have not done any research to know how synonymous the noose was with racism in 1914, and being that Tarzan uses a rope to kill other animals, I gave the hero the benefit of the doubt. I waited, patiently, for the arrival of the white man to see how they would be treated. Perhaps, being a creature of the jungle, Tarzan simply kills everyone. Unfortunately, this was not the case. While some pirates, who were white, are described as cruel and savage, the European and American whites, those of “noble” bearing, are portrayed in an entirely different light. Almost at once, Tarzan identifies with these whites as those of his own kind, as if the blacks in the village were something other than human. And when he falls in love with Jane, you are forced to wonder why he never considers any of the women from the black tribe as potential mates. Surely, as a young man living alone in the jungle, Tarzan has needs, even want of companionship, but to sate such desires with a black female is unthinkable.

The story picks up after the arrival of the white man, as Tarzan begins to unravel his origin through various clues left by his parents and by interacting with the newcomers. Eventually, he is taught to speak French (of all things), how to be civilized, and how to wear clothing and eat with knife and fork, all in an effort to court Jane. Despite being raised as an ape, he never thinks to rape her (a thing which is alluded to, but, I imagine, too taboo to state flatly). The reason for his conduct, again, speak of race and the value of hereditary in the author’s mind,

It was the hallmark of his aristocratic birth, the natural outcropping of many generations of fine breeding, an hereditary instinct of graciousness which a lifetime of uncouth and savage training and environment could not eradicate. p. 192 

 

Later, when a French naval officer is captured by the black tribe (for no reason other than that they are bloodthirsty cannibals), Burroughs writes,

And then began for the French officer the most terrifying experience which man can encounter upon earth—the reception of a white prisoner into a village of African cannibals. p. 200


And then Burroughs has this to say,

The bestial faces, daubed with color—the huge mouths and flabby hanging lips—the yellow teeth, sharp filed—the rolling, demon eyes—the shining naked bodies—the cruel spears. Surely no such creatures really existed upon earth—he must indeed be dreaming. p. 201

 

Not to worry, because Tarzan shows up in the nick of time, using his lasso to hang one of the black men, which causes the others of the tribe to scurry off in a panic. When the French man is nursed to health, Tarzan returns him to his cabin on the beach, but then in a moment of confusion this happens,

. . . suddenly in the half dusk of the open door he saw that the man was white [egad!] and in another instant realized that he had shot his friend and protector . . . p. 235


But it’s not all bad. After reaching civilization, Tarzan learns to converse like a gentleman, and at one point says something which almost redeems the authors’ racist views,

. . . one might as well judge all blacks by the fellow who ran amuck last week [a black man murdering people, again, without reason] or decide that all whites are cowards because one has met a cowardly white. p. 249 

 

Strangely enough, the book ends in America, but Tarzan’s courtship of Jane is never resolved, and the book ends in a Lady or the Tiger moment. The story is continued in the twenty-five (!) sequels.

Was Burroughs a racist? On the one hand, it was 1914, and he may simply have been catering to expectations, keeping in mind what little was known of Africa and the customs of its natives. This was also long before the Civil Rights movement, when interracial marriage was still illegal. On the other hand, this is considerably after the writings of black abolitionist Frederick Douglas (1845-1892) and Charles Darwin’s The Descent of Man (1871), who argued that race did not exist. At best, we can say Burroughs was simply uneducated, but Tarzan of the Apes is no doubt racist, unapologetically so, which both hurts the novel and ensures this once beloved hero fades into obscurity.