Next, Thursday, Potter Predictions, and Law Review

Reading: The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss; By Cunning and Craft, Peter Selgin
Watching: Manabi #1-3

*

As promised, I shall begin with a spoiler-free review of Thursday Next's latest, First Among Sequels. This is timely, I think, as tomorrow marks the book's publication in the U.S. (Yes . . . one of the simple pleasures of the electronic age is for a reader in the States to tap the UK stacks, and thereby read a long-awaited book nearly a month in advance.)

Fforde is in his usual form at the start of the book, and, though the feat would have seemed nigh improbable (if not impossible) to me before reading it, he manages to take the literary and metafictional satire to an all-new level. Without giving away any details from the book, I'll say that this is the first book of the series to stand up and demand a sequel, and that any dedicated fan of Thursday cannot afford to miss it! Newcomers to Ffordian space/time would probably do best to start with The Eyre Affair. In fact, given the opening paragraph of the last chapter, I insist upon it.

*

Having done my usual waltz into Barnes and Noble midday on 7/21, nonchalantly picking up the nearest copy of Deathly Hallows from the copious stacks and cracking it open to read as I waited to purchase it, and having closed the book with a sigh and a contented smile on the evening of 7/22, I can't help but feel that an era in my life as a reader--and indeed, in the lives of countless others--has shifted.

I happened across the Harry Potter books later than most, I think--pride, and my dubiousness of the true artistic worth of anything so popular as to constitute a cultural phenomena made me delay cracking open Philosopher's Stone (I don't care what the US calls it--Rowling wanted to keep it thus, and I would have wholeheartedly agreed!) until the fourth book had been penned and devoured by millions. From the moment I closed the first book, I knew that Rowling was more than a spectacle--she was a genuine storyteller.

And, like any true storyteller, she grew stronger with every outing. Looking back, I can see clearly that Deathly Hallows is in a completely different league from Philosopher's Stone--though both are inextricably bound, like Voldemort and Harry himself, and form a work far greater than the sum of its parts. I can say without equivocation, however, that Deathly Hallows is the cement that binds it all together.

I look back to my commentary of the sixth book, two years ago:

"One thing that has surprised and delighted me is how closely I have been able to anticipate the path along which Rowling's story unfolds (or, perhaps more aptly, how closely Rowling's proclivities in terms of plot, theme and storyline match my own). SPOILERS are forthcoming: from book one, I had hoped that Rowling would 1) depict Snape as a snide, flawed, but ultimately redeemable and noble character, most likely by having him aid Harry's quest to end the threat of the Dark Lord in some surprising or moving fashion, and 2), slowly mold Draco into a sympathetic and conflicted character. Books one through five showed hints of 1) being slowly undertaken, but 2) seemed to be a largely moot point. In the sixth installment (which, one learns by the end, essentially named "Harry Potter and Severus Snape") it is clear to me that Rowling intends to reveal Severus's nobility in some climactic fashion in the seventh and final book: she builds up the case for the reader to believe, as Harry does, that Severus is truly in the service of the Dark Lord, yet leaves sufficient wiggle room for his eventual reveal as a man worthy of Dumbledore's confidence. I reveled in the possibilities of making this initially and overtly antagonistic character transform from sulking menace to apparent adversary to unexpected ally, and it seems that Rowling intends to walk the same path in her books. My personal fascination with the themes of redemption and penance notwithstanding, on a philosophical and spiritual level, this feels like the right progression to make, and I am very pleased to surmise that Rowling--by virtue of her writing--seems to concur. Draco, the one-dimensional antagonist who serves as one of Harry's greatest adversaries in the early books, in the climax of this novel, takes (what I feel to be) his rightful place as a conflicted, rounded character, who has begun to feel his inherent proclivities begin to diverge from the facets of his upbringing.

"And, on the subject of things forseen (note: the SPOILERS continue hereon in this paragraph), I had sensed since the first novel that Dumbledore would, in the penultimate installment, or at least very early in the ultimate one, have to die, in order for the final confrontation between Harry and Voldemort to take place. In the intervening years, I have learned that this progression is an archetypal necessity (for the same reason that Yoda must pass on early in Return of the Jedi, in order for Luke to confront Vader and the Emperor): the protagonist's master must be removed, so that the principle character is forced to step up to the herculean task that awaits him. It is as inevitable as the cycle of life: the old must die, and give way to the young, that the next generation may hasten to mature in their absence, and fill-in the roles that the departed have left vacant. I did not look forward to the moment when Harry's beneficient mentor would have to bow and leave the stage, but I knew that, when that moment came, he would do so to fulfill a most dire need, and that his departure would, when the smoke fully clears, not be in vain. Dumbledore's demise is laced with the subtext which will power one of the most powerful plotlines of the seventh novel--the relationship between Harry and Snape--and provides the necessary impetus for Harry to head down the path of his story's inevitable conclusion. Rowling, with the clarity of a truly gifted storyteller, has netted two birds with one stroke of her pen.

"Though I can claim to foresee the path upon which Rowling's splendid story must travel to its conclusion, I cannot, with any degree of certainty or candor, claim to know the steps that will be taken along that road. Rowling's work is her own, and no one but she can bring her tale to its true resolution, whether that resolution be for good or ill, as far as the strength of the Harry Potter series is concerned.

"But if her current six books are any indication--and I largely suspect that they are--I'd say that the fate of this tale, beloved by millions, could be in no better hands."

I can say now that Rowling did not meet my lofty expectations--she exceeded them. She worked literally every element from her previous books into the seventh, in a way that rang true for the story at that stage, and yet also gave her most dedicated readers a nostalgic trip down memory lane. The result was that the Harry/Snape relationship did not take center stage, as I had predicted, but it did captivate a great many pages. The true surprise for me was the way in which Rowling chose to develop the background of Albus Dumbledore posthumously in this book, and the great cathartic effect it had on the story as a whole. If my master work were to be a story in seven parts, I could only hope that I would wrap it up as well as Rowling has her beloved Harry Potter septalogy. She does what every storyteller should do, but only the deftest manage with consistency: She spins a web of lies that tell a fundamental truth, and that truth reverberates from every decision, every action and reaction, that her characters make. As others like Fitzgerald and Tolkien, hers is a feat that will not soon be forgotten. I can only hope that the Harry Potter series will not be her last--that, like many others, once she has begun the path of the storyteller, she will continue to walk it until her dying day. The world, the publishing industry, and the reading public could only benefit from such an eventuality.

Bravo, Mistress Storyteller. Bravo.

*

At last, I turn to personal events. After months of waiting, with bated breath, I received an invitation to join the Law Review.

I find it hard to put into words the heft of the weight that has been lifted from my shoulders. (Nor does it matter that the same hand which lifted that one weight has replaced it with another--named responsiblity--of at least commensurate mass.)

Next time, a review of what may be the best book I have read in this already stellar year. Until then, gentle readers: Adieu.

Dereliction of Duties, Stupidity Surpluses, and Can You Speak English?

Reading: First Among Sequels, Jasper Fforde; The Name of the Wind, Patrick Rothfuss; By Cunning & Craft: Sound Advice and Practical Wisdom for Fiction Writers, Peter Selgin

Read: The Scene Book: A Primer for the Fiction Writer, Sandra Scofield; Hooked: Grab Readers at Page One, Les Edgerton; The Princess and the Hound, Mette Ivie Harrison

Listening to: Sayonara Mo Ienakatta Natsu, Mikuni Shimokawa

Watching: Cool Japan, Eigo De Shabera Naito, Salaryman Neo, Jamie At Home, Glutton For Punishment, Chef At Large

*

Yes, I realize that despite my previous vow to post as often as possible, it has been two months since my last post. Moreover, I notice that I set the lofty goal of having my first set of substantive revisions to Book One by July 1st--to which I say, as I am embroiled in the process of rewriting chapter 1 for the fourth time, "Hah!" My recent writerly readings have opened my eyes to the weaknesses in my previous writing, and so the task falls to me now, with roughly five weeks of my summer remaining, to get as much revision as possible done before the Fall semester. Those who I asked to be first readers: your patience is greatly appreciated! I hope you'll still be willing to read the polished product when it finally leaves the assembly line.

A lot has happened since the last post, so perhaps some can be forgiven. I'm still waiting to learn whether or not I made law review or the Asian law journal; and at the eleventh hour, I managed to swap out my plan to take two courses at the law school for a summer externship with a judge at the First Circuit courthouse. Working in a criminal court has opened my eyes to both the litigation process and the role of the judiciary in dispensing with criminal offenders. And the fact that I'll be getting four juicy credits to shave off of my dreaded 2L Spring semester only sweetens the deal.

*

As was the case with Something Rotten, I enlisted the help of Amazon.co.uk to get the British printing of First Among Sequels roughly half a month earlier than its US release--and with the vastly superior UK cover art to boot! My only regret is that I had to purchase the book at a time where the British Pound was at an all-time high against the US dollar--7 quid and 78 p plus shipping ended up costing me nearly $29! But dear old Jasper appears to be at his usual game in Sequels (or so the first few pages would have me believe), so all's well that ends well, I suppose. I'll give a spoiler-free review when it's finished.

Jasper has managed to waylay my progress on the monstrous tomb entitled The Name of the Wind, a book highly recommended by OSC, and, given the quality of the opening pages, rightfully so. As long as the book is, I'm seriously concerned that the moment I start investing concerted amounts of time into reading it, it will take hold and not let go until I've finished it--a dangerous prospect, when I have court-related duties, ELP projects, and my own rewrites to perform. I'll use Thursday Next to test the waters; if I can manage to go through Sequels without compromising my other responsibilities, then I'll feel more confident about taking on this behemoth.

Mette Ivie Harrison--the author behind the delightful Mira, Mirror--showcases her strong grasp of the storytelling art in The Princess and the Hound, a splendid first book for what appears to be, at least at the moment, a duology. I was deeply interested in reading the book as OSC described it as having an unexpected ending that was nonetheless completely true to the characters and events in the story, a feat that I hope to achieve in my own writing. And the best method of learning a skill--be it cooking, litigating, or fiction writing--is by observation and rote practice. In this regard, The Princess and the Hound is not only a fine example of well-crafted fantasy, but a signpost for the growing writer, reading "This way: the proper way to conduct an ending." Utterly accessible and extremely addictive--this was a book with the fore-mentioned can't-put-down quality--it is highly recommended.

*

My online sources have directed me toward three pieces of Japanese television (all from NHK) that have become weekly indulgences of mine: Cool Japan, Eigo De Shabera Naito, and Salaryman Neo.

Cool Japan has something of a conceited premise to it: it seeks out to discover "cool" aspects of Japanese culture as viewed by foreigners. Each week a multinational panel is assembled to discuss their findings on the weekly theme ("communication," "lunch time," and "Owarai" have been three recent themes). The common language between the foreigners is English, while the hosts and others speak in Japanese, so it's a bit easier to follow than a purely Japanese-speaking talk show, and occasionally it has something truly cool to show for itself. Other times, I can see quite clearly that the conscripted foreigners apply the "cool" label to a particular finding only under a certain level of friendly Japanese duress.

Eigo De Shabera Naito works under the premise of helping viewers to learn English, so I suppose it is ironic that I'm watching it to brush up my Japanese! Hosted by a number of Japanese personalities and one American transplant (who, interestingly enough, forms one half of the Japanese comedy team Pakkun and Makkun), the mixed language format of the show helps immensely for Japanese-challenged viewers like myself to understand the exchanges.

Finally, Salaryman Neo is the most ambitious of my NHK lineup, since it is completely in Japanese. Neo is a kind of Saturday Night Live, Japanese salaryman style, transfixingly watchable (and, surprisingly, understandable) even if half of what is said flies right over my head.

(In case anyone was curious, Jamie at Home, Glutton for Punishment, and Chef at Large are not Japanese TV shows; they're from Food Network Canada. Jamie at Home is Jamie Oliver's take on the Chef at Home concept; Glutton for Punishment is a new series by the "Surreal Gourmet," Bob Blumer; and Chef at Large is Canadian chef Michael Smith's flagship TV show, where he goes about North America and present a particular place or event in each episode. I'm just as addicted to cooking shows as I am Anime and Japanese culture!)

*

Well, that's it for this post. I might take the time to adapt some of my externship journal entries for future posts. As always--stay tuned!