I love Lord of the Flies. I think I read it in my late 30’s.
I read Fahrenheit 451 about 3 years ago for the first time - it is an “experience”, that’s for sure.
I love Lord of the Flies. I think I read it in my late 30’s.
I read Fahrenheit 451 about 3 years ago for the first time - it is an “experience”, that’s for sure.
I recently read Alistair Maclean’s Bear Island, part of a box set of his novels. I remember the film and the Book is somewhat different. As it mainly takes place on the boat getting to the island. There are some classic titles in the set and I hope to work my way through them.
MacLean is a mixed bag. Some of the great classics of war/war spy adventure are to be found in his œuvre - along some dire and entirely forgettable books. The writing likewise ranges from sardonic seasoned thriller perspective to painfully pedestrian especially in his later years.
The trick is really to either start with a strong one or give him a second chance if you happened to pick a weaker work. Today MacLean has largely become an insiders tip but back in the day he was amongst the first ‘brand’ authors whose name was used to sell a series of posthumous works based on his ideas.
He was a favorite in my teenage years. I was fortunate to start with the early novels–I think “Puppet on a Chain” was my first. A high school English teacher pointed out to me that MacLean’s style was to gather a varied group in an isolated setting, and then let secrets percolate to the surface.
“The Way to Dusty Death” is the dividing line in my opinion (“Breakheart Pass” could also be it).
My only experience of Maclean was " When eight bells toll " I’d seen the film a few times and
decided to give the book a go. I enjoyed it as it read like a good old adventure " Yarn "
Funnily that was my first MacLean, too. When Eight Bells Toll was also a good adventure read. I was lucky enough to mostly pick his better works for years, Guns of Navarone, Fear is the Key, The Golden Rendezvous, Where Eagles Dare. My first disappointment came with Force 10 which bizarrely continued Navarone’s adventure based on the film adaptation.
Afterwards I was less happy with my picks and The Hostage Tower (penned by John Denis) finally ended my affair with Maclean’s books for good. I’m aware there have to be some better ones I haven’t yet read. But then it’s perhaps not necessary to have read everything by him just for completeness’ sake.
Great find, @Arbogast777!
Oooh, all those deleted scenes!
#releasetheoldenbourgcut
I sat through that…thing…not again…never again…

Imagine though 4 hours of Carlyle ACTING
Unite the Seven (of cheesy 90s action):
James Bond
Ethan Hunt
Jack Ryan
Judge Dredd
Zordon
Goku
Quail Man
Against the villainous Renard, Elektra King, Rita Replusa all secretly working for…

“Look…shared universe!”

I’ve now finished 1984 and Fahrenheit 451. Both are good books and fascinating to compare with our modern world. I’ll move on to Lord of the Flies next. I’ve also bought The Count of Monte Cristo, which is going to be a mammoth undertaking. But it’s a journey I want to take. I finished The Lord of the Rings earlier in the year and it was a rewarding experience in terms of themes and character development. I see this being the same.
The Count of Monte Cristo is such a mammoth because it was originally published as eighteen part serial over one and a half years. Not exactly a forerunner of the pulp genre - that would prefer short fiction over multiple parts - but a close cousin and enormously influential in its attitude.
Events play out before a moral background of right and wrong, yet we are invited to relish the perfidious machinations that destroy Dantès’ young life, suffer with him in prison and enjoy his escape as well as his dedication to ruthless vengeance. At the core we still look for this particular ambivalence in fiction, rooting for the hero even if the hero’s intent isn’t wholly without fault.
PS: When you finish The Count of Monte Cristo you ought to give Stephen Fry’s The Stars’ Tennis Balls a try. It is a quite entertaining modern day version that breaks down the core message of the tale without losing import.
If you want it really bad, try Karl May’s “Waldröschen”. In brief: a monster. 109 continuations in one and a half years (12/1882-08/1884). The subtitle “Die Rächerjagd rund um die Erde” (Revenge Chase Around the World) says it all. Takes place over the course of about 35 years and around the world, with some of the most absurd plot twists and coincidences you’ve ever heard of. One of them has half of his main characters being cast away on a desert island for 16 (!) years, and IIRC, he does away with that on some 50 pages.
But do yourself a favor and take the classic “green” edition (51-55 and 77). One of the rare cases of me being in favor of an edited edition. The original version (HKA) is a tough read and full of plotholes (not a miracle with 109 continuations, when you’re writing #75, you’ve forgotten most of what you’ve written im #12).
Strangely enough I never made it through the classic Karl May western books, though not for lack of trying. I repeatedly gave up on Winnetou I, even after an article in Sprechblase listed all the heroic shootouts, knifings, ritual tomahawk duels and bow and arrow attacks of May’s Wild West imagination.
In my 30s I managed to make it through Durch die Wüste and Durchs wilde Kurdistan. I can see how these books must have inspired readers of the late 19. and early 20. century. And no doubt kids and adults for decades after that, much like Perry Rhodan did in the 60s and 70s. But somehow the raw material was there while the actual writing didn’t yet go for the punches the way a ‘modern’ genre work would.
It’s also a foretaste of modern television–a long-running episodic series composed of story arcs. Dumas’s habit of collaborating with other writers makes him akin to an early “showrunner” as well. It’s a tribute to the book’s mastery that only in the last fifth did I feel the story was dragging. Otherwise Monte Cristo shows how length can be an integral part of story-telling, as shown in the prison sequence, where you feel the hero’s despair and crushing weight of time.
I haven’t seen every visual adaptation of The Count of Monte Cristo (life isn’t long enough!) but can recommend the following:
The American silent Monte Cristo (1922) is much better than I expected. Most actors who play the Count are suited to play only one side of him—the young and naive Edmond Dantes or the suave, revenge-driven Monte Cristo. John Gilbert is the only actor I’ve seen who was at home with both. The story is agreeably streamlined and the new ending was fine by me.
Monte Cristo (1929), directed by Henri Fescourt, is surely the most stylish and energetic version of the story ever filmed. It’s a magnificent, lavish late silent. This is a movie that demands a Blu-Ray release and has yet to even enjoy a DVD release outside France. Likely the definitive film version.
I know lots of people enjoy the 1934 Count of Monte Cristo starring Robert Donat, but I found it corny and hated how it became a courtroom drama.
The excellent BBC series of The Count of Monte Cristo (1964) is one of the most faithful adaptations and consists of 12 episodes, each 25 minutes. Alan Badel isn’t convincing as an innocent young Dantes, but he’s a superbly charismatic Count. The BBC released it on DVD a few years ago.
I haven’t seen any of the French sound versions starring Jean Marais, Louis Jourdan, or Gérard Depardieu. I’ve heard good things about the 1988 Soviet series The Prisoner of Château d’If, though I suspect it might be faithful, slow, and plodding in the manner of many Russian adaptations.
Inferno by Dan Brown. Ugh, this book is a slog, even by his standards. Angels and Demons and The Da Vinci Code were entertaining enough reads. But it seems like Dan Brown never improves his skills as a writer and using 2 page chapters just masks how poor his prose is.