Stardust, a film based on a Neil Gaiman novel

This will be an experiment: comparative review of the original novel vs. the film version. Stardust is the tale of Tristan Thorn, inept and eager shop boy from the English town of Wall. Young Thorn is enamored with the beauty of Victoria, the town flirt. One night, he sees a falling star, and to prove his love for Victoria, sets off to cross the town's forbidden wall to retrieve it as her birthday present. She promises him that if he returns after a week (in time for her birthday), she will marry Tristan rather than his rival, Humphrey. Alas, the other side of the wall was off limits for a good reason - it hid the magical realm of Stormhold from the world. The star manifests as the beautiful maiden, Yvaine, in this realm, and unknown to Tristan, the star has two other pursuers. The first group seeks the item that was the cause of her fall. The king of Stormhold charged his sons to retrieve the necklace which he flung into the heavens. The son who finds it first will become the new king of the realm. The second group seek the star for her heart, which when eaten provides instant youth. They are the royalty of the witch order, the sisters Three. Tristan quickly finds himself in a situation for which he did not account. Instead of merely retrieving a hunk of stardust, he finds himself the protector of a lady whose presence endangers his own life. For both of the groups who seek Yvaine have no qualms about breaking bloody eggs that impede their will.

Which medium tells the story better - novel or film? Stylistically, the end is less dragged out in the novel. Characters accept the end with a lot more peace. However, with Michelle Pfeiffer starring as the villainess, the writers wanted to give as much screentime as possible to her talents. Also, Robert de Niro's character gets a bit more screen time than was allotted for his character in the book. The Sky pirate Captain Shakespeare was more of an aside in Neil Gaiman's vast mental realm. The author did not choose to elaborate on some of his players, though he might have formed them more fully in his mind. The book is a fast paced plot that draws readers into its thrall, to spit them into the lush and exciting place of Stormhold and the unremarkable town of Wall. Gaiman's literary landscapes appear boundless. The part that he reveals only hints at the glory of the realms that inhabit his mind. This intangible entity of Neil's imagination must be filled with unenforced borders and trade among the various plots and members of his creation.
The movie is colorful and dazzling, the book is dreamy and whimsical. They complement each other, but I prefer the pacing of the novel to the movie, which tries too hard to show the fruit of Gaiman's mind on a physical screen. Rather, the story is best viewed in the venue of the psychological level of a reader's imagination.

Happiness in scrutinizing a pen

I choose to marvel that my writing utensil has faded.
I disassemble it into pieces, thinking of the machine that made it.
Then I laugh at the thought of the purpose for which it was created.
That company would never guess what their product would make.
A medium for an odd college student's thoughts and musings while awake.
I always am surprised, amused, and amazed -
For the rhymes and the words that I write, do seem quite crazed.
How long will this poem run? I haven't a clue.
So to all who have read thus far: The end is not in view.
Oh, you may scroll to the bottom of the page.
But now that ploy is shot, by my falsely omnipotent gaze.
I knew you will attempt to do so, when does not matter .
Maybe I am wrong; But on with the irrational prattle!
I started this to make your day.
Concerning a mere pen,
Something we've all thrown away.
But what fills the pen is not just the ink.
It is the potential that it can unleash.
It can open worlds as it touches blank sheets.
It can make the old youthful; give the literary suckling its first taste of meat.
It can fill temporarily a thirsty soul.
It can take power away, or restore control.
It can change minds, causing them to yield.
It can inspire new workers to enter the field.
It can start wars, intellectual or real.
It can cause even the apathetic to feel.
It can expose old wounds, revealing scars.
It can heal them as well, given an open heart.
It can loosen the tongues of the mute and the shy.
It can make speechless the lugribrious, their mouths to grow dry.
It can do all these things and beyond.
But it starts with a pen, a pad, and mind waxes fond.
Memories are triggered by the slightest of stimuli.
Books were the beginning of storage for you and I.
When cheap pens dry out, the tube is a waste of ink.
They are carelessly tossed away, and replaced in a wink.
Where such tools originate does not occur in students' heads.
Pens come complementary from business instead.
As for me, I've never paid for one.
Finding a replacement is easy and fun.
Merely walk into any convention.
Whether it serves geeks or millionaires does not merit mention.
At each booth, you always will see.
A row of new pens! There just for free.
Oh, how you might cackle.
How you might smirk.
People might think you a jackal,
or merely a jerk.
But they will not bother to withhold the ballpoints from you.
They will grin and bear it, knowing that their day is filled with others like you.
A joy from something so fleeting like a pocket of pens.
It may appear irrational, but it makes the world worth living.
'Fin


You might learn something new about me, tucked inside the lines of this impulsive written spree
Hopefully, this aimless letter in rhyme
Might spark you into thinking deep.
Farewell, until next time.
Now it is the hour for me to sleep...

Pan's Labyrinth - A twisted and lovely tale

The year is 1944, Spain is fighting a civil war. Ofelia and her mother Carmen travel to a military outpost, where General Vidal awaits his new wife. Carmen is bearing his son, and he believes that "a son should be born where his father is." Ofelia does not like the camp or Vidal, preferring her world of fairy tales. Pan's Labyrinth is so called for the ancient, overgrown maze that lies a short walk from the camp. There Ofelia meets an aged faun, who tells her that she is the reincarnation of the Princess of the Underworld. The original princess dreamed of the human world, one day, she escaped Underworld to live as a mortal in the human realm. When she saw the sun, it erased the princess's memory and she forgot her identity. To prove that Ofelia is indeed the princess, the faun gives her a blank book that will show her three tasks she must perform before the moon is full. The movie's genius is that the director, Guillermo del Toro, is directing two separate story-lines simultaneously. One being the fanciful and visually stirring fantasy into which Ofelia is invited. The other, a polished war story about the cruel Vidal who is fond of only two kinds of rebels -torture to those alive and headshots to those who are dying. An example of his behavior is exemplified by his treatment of a father and son who were halted by Vidal's men late at night. As he searches their bag, they protest that they were rabbit hunting. Vidal grows annoyed my the son's repeated protest, and bashes the young man's nose into his face with a bottle before shooting the father as well. A few seconds later, Videl pulls a rabbit out from the bag, showing the audience that the victims were unjustly detained. The only person whom Vidal actually cares for other than himself is his unborn son. This stems from Vidal's own love for his military father. When Vidal's father died, he smashed his pocketwatch on a rock so that Videl might know the exact hour of his death. Throughout the film, Vidal takes out his father's watch and looks at its cracked face. It is ironic that Mercedes, Vidal's housekeeper, is aiding the rebels behind her employer's back. Mercedes's brother. Pedro, is a rebel leader and she supplies food and medicine. Mercedes and Ofelia develop a friendship instinctively. The housekeeper pities Ofelia and acts as her second mother, Ofelia wants a friend who will comfort her, her mother is weakened by her pregnancy. The colors and images in the movie are enchanting and sharply detailed. Director del Toro makes frequent use of dark greens, a hue that I personally favor, thus influencing me to like him as well. The fantasy realm is pictured as being a competent rival to the everyday existence in which the other characters live. This is one of the better movies I've seen this year. I can't wait for del Toro to finish the Hobbit, as now I am convinced that it will be a treat for the eyes as well as faithful to the story.

Fountainhead upcoming

It is rather awkward for me, but even though I devoured the Fountainhead, I am having trouble putting it into words. It is a tale that compelled me to keep reading, just to see whether justice was served. The book is divided into 4 Sections that don't necessarily correspond to the characters after which they are named. All 4 central characters rose from a low income background to something. Howard Roark is the hero, a revolutionary architect who builds only in his own style, he refuses contracts when the client demands an ancient styling. His mentor is the skyscraper visionary Henry Cameron, a man who lost his clients out of this very attitude. Howard is Ayn Rand's ideal man, unfazed by criticism merely because he sees the world as it is, and it does not merit his attention. When asked by Peter Keating what Roark thought of him, Howard replies, "I don't." Peter is a parasite, a member of the catagory of the "second-handers". There are two kinds of people in the world, those who create and are martyred by the second-handers who are outraged by the change in the status quo - it shows that the second-handers have not been the leaders. The second handers then adapt the idea and technology as the status quo, making them appear to be the saviors of humanity. Keating steals credit for the creativity of others. He both hates and needs Howard, as he is the only one with whom Peter can afford to be transparent, given that Howard already knows him to be a fraud. Peter power plays and manipulates others to try to get ahead in life. When at the top of his career, Peter realizes that now he must stay there at all costs, avoiding being exposed to the world as Roark knows him.
Gail Wynand is a newspaper tycoon, his paper, the New York Banner, is a daily document of what the public wants to read, see, and hear. Wynand bound his soul to the paper, and presents both to the public for its entertainment. His only weakness is a private admiration for those who haven't sold their soul. He is determined to break these people to test whether they are truly incorruptible, or merely putting up a front. He derives a sadistic pleasure by molding them in his images. He has a personal art gallery full of pieces that he was determined to keep for his eyes only. Gail hates to meet the artists, knowing that he would desire to break them as he broke himself. One of Wynand's columnists in the Banner is Ellsworth Toohey, a man who has gathered a cult following for being an authority on art as well as for living a lifestyle of simplisitc impeccability. Wynand did not try to break him, Toohey is both disappointed and amused - Gail didn't consider him to be a threat or he would have done so. Toohey is the most frightening character in the book, his motive behind why he does what he does is so glaringly obvious so as to seem impossible by its sheer audacity. Nothing Ellsworth says is in itself wrong, it is how and where he chooses to present the words that is disturbing. He settles for nothing short of dismemberment of what is virtue by redefining what is praiseworthy in the realm of art. He raises mediocre talents like Keating to be thought of as great, while omitting mention of Roark in his column as if saying that Howard is not worth noticing. By equating non-talent being on par with talent, Toohey makes the term "talented" become null and void, having no meaning.
In short, I read this book in horrified amazement. I did not particularly like any one character - I felt forced to sympathize only with characters when they were played, recoiling against those who wielded others. Gail was the character I respected the most, merely because he hid nothing. I personally can respect more the evil that knows and openly tells the world not to trust him, than the Toohey's of the world who hide their rottenness behind the facade of virtue.

I don't agree with, I don't like, but I shall admit great respect for The Fountainhead.
Yes, this is a spoiler for the book at large, but I would only advise reading this work to those who are strong in the faith. It is a work that denies the existence of God, takes his name in vain, but still cannot refrain from praising and glorifying the spark that resides in man, that spirit that reflects facets of the God whom I serve. Though they refuse to acknowledge Him with their mouths, they exalt Him with their lives. A godless life is one without meaning or plot, somewhat like the Plague, by Albert Camus. That is a book in the tradition of the existentialist movement of Absurdism - a potraying of the everyday as unremarkable and devoid of supernatural involvement. Atheism is a belief that god does not exist, and must therefore be declared to the world as not worthy of existing. We have only this life.

"I release you from my service, now go and die in whatever manner seems best to you."

- Denethor, LOTR Return of the King

Falchion

Chronicles of the Soujourner #1

The Ramblings of a Sojourner – Entry Initial #1
Travelling in a moving vehicle has the feeling of timelessness. There is a emotion of longing in my heart that comes during car trips – I am with those I love, music I enjoy experiencing is flowing into my consciousness. It is enough to make me enjoy the feeling of waiting, anticipating that this journey has an end, it is that knowledge which causes me to hold dear to the time that I have in the now. When my final destination is assured, there arises a peace in my heart, a determination to enjoy the path that has been set before me. Chatter, melodious lyrics, and silence erupt around my focus, memories float around my inner eyes, awakened by the harmony of the symphony of the everyday. I have every confidence that I will reach my destination, but that is not what makes life special and worth remembering. It is the in-between moments that define how you live your life. To work while you wait; to dream of bliss when you are facing monotony; to reflect upon what you plan to accomplish before you reach the end of your life. It is in these moments that you catch glimpses into the eternal – thoughts of the cycle of birth into this world, existence upon it, and the rebirth that comes from pursuing a passion until the hour of your death. Death is merely the final rest upon the end of your journey on earth, it is not to be feared by any, save those who never made an impression on this fleshly plane of reality. What do you do in the times in between? Do you have a passion that is worth your time on earth?

Mystery Guitar Man

I have a confession to make: I am a Youtube freak. It is a source of constant entertainment for me. On Tuesdays and Thursdays my personal favorite, Mystery Guitar Man(MGM), uploads a new video.I personally cannot relate to the amount of time he spends in making each stop motion or looping video, yet the end results never fail to surprise me. He collaborates very often in the Youtube community, and does not demand recognition for his part. He reminds his audience wryly that the reason he has so much free time is his lack of a girlfriend. Paper Mosaic is his latest video to date and is interesting for the fact of his fans' participation in the materials for the project:


The joke of the show is that Mystery guitar man is neither a mystery or a breathtaking musician. His name is Joe Penna and his talent lies in his creative way of choreographing videos. He started out with videos by playing one note at a time and cutting around the video to present the impression of a full song. Like this:

Later on, Joe added looping videos like this:

I have posted three videos already, and I feel like I'm only giving you the tip of the iceberg! But that is the purpose of a review - to either whet your appetite for an in depth experience of your own, or the decision that 'I am never going to waste my time researching that!'. For my recent birthday, I bought a T-shirt designed by MGM. It was a simple idea, one that I could have copied easily on a blank shirt from a store. However, if it supports him in some peripheral way, it is well worth the price. He has entertained me for free these past few months, I'd like to give some support back to the sender.

Need to Say

So far my readers have been wonderful. Posting the occasional comment or suggestion that makes me smile throughout the rest of the days. I see that I get a lot more comments doing visual reviewing than I did with the 3 books so far. possibilities arise - Either I pick bad books to review, say too much about the plot and spoil things, or I'm doing fine and no one feels it is worth commenting upon. So, as I am pessimistic, there are three attitudes: I'm a lousy discerner of what to read; I tattle the plot away; I am a mediocre reviewer of books and need work on defining my style...

Anyway, I'm quite contented to have this as an outlet, thus I will continue reviewing books nevertheless. Yes, I am practically begging for false sympathy on my books. Ha! So, now I know that people prefer to read my takes on movies and written rhymes to book reviews. Will have to work on that. Of late I've been needing a soothing of my soul. I usually grab Rich Mullins' project A liturgy, A legacy, A Ragamuffin Band. The late Mr. Mullins' lyrics are beautifully intimate and lovely in their detailing of the everyday. Here in America is a comfortable, friendly introduction to the album, with Rich acting the role of a storyteller. 52:10 is an intensely passionate cry to God for the glory of his presence. The Color Green is joyful and exultant in the Creation that God made for man to enjoy. The flutes in this song thrill the heart to dancing, even if you are incompetent and unused to the practice. Hold Me Jesus is a painfully vulnerable letter to God that I have aspired to meet His level, and am insuffient on my own. My favorite part of the song are the lyrics "Surrender don't come natural to me. I'd rather fight you for something I don't really want, than take what you give that I need..." Creed is a declaration, a stand to believe an be-living it out in your life. Peace starts out with a quiet piano, then pours out thanks to Christ dying fot humanity, pleading for us not to forget it in the layers of tradition. Communion is a living event, a rememberance, a promise of life to come. 78 Eatonwood Green is Rich improvising on the hammer dulcimer, a unique and lovely sounding instrumental. Hard reminds us to put the things we do in perspective - We should not set low standards. I'll Carry On is about coming of age, an acceptance of responsibility of adulthood and the determination to be worthy of the name you carry. How to Grow Up Big and Strong is an unusual song for Rich to cover. It tells the story of primal man's rebellion against all obstacles standing in opposition to his unspoken will. You Gotta Get Up is a piece of nostalga - a child's viewpoint of Christmas Day. Last track on the album is Land of my Sojourn. It is a fitting companion to the first track on the album and the best song possible to complete the project's theme of the extraordinary of the everyday. The lyrics paint a brilliantly detailed snapshot of America's history, what makes it a great and desirable as a nation. I pray that this wonder that is sparked in my soul will not fade, that my thoughts would ever bend to stoking the flame in others. It is my hope to be one who is drunk on the vintage of the pure wisdom bestowed by my heavenly Father. I wish to walk through life with the assured confidence that God will work in the lives of us staggeringly ungrateful mortals. We who take our next breath for granted, we who pass the lilies of the field, preferring the HD clarity of our LCD television screens. Thank you my God, who has such devoted servants such as Rich to speak of the utter simplicity of the achievement of true meaning and pleasure in life. Rich had woven the Word of our Creator into a spoken tapestry that we can view with our earth trained eyes. It is music to lift your eyes to the heavens, to wonder at the majesty of our surroundings, to praise God for the life that we are given.

This is the soundtrack to my life's journey.

From a fellow Sojouner,

Falchion