I thought there was a big difference between the book and movie adaptation of Coraline. I personally enjoyed them both, but I did enjoy the movie more. There was one scene in the book I wish could have been in the movie, and it was when her other father was being forced to chase Coraline in the basement. The imagery in my mind when I was reading that was terrifying and utterly brilliant. I also noticed that the movie had American characters, as opposed to British in the book.
I think the creepiest part of the book for me was just way the tunnel was described, when she says it feels like it’s breathing. It has been a really long time, like 7 years since I read the book, so I honestly don’t remember a ton of it. I do remember that I was the only one of my friends that enjoyed it.
of a long sleeved, black turtle-neck shirt worn close to the skin in the middle of Florida summer heat, standing out in a sea of brightly colored spaghetti strap tanks and bathing suit tops, climbing into a log flume car with seats that are already slightly damp from the big splash at the end. This is not a picture of a conservative, ankle-length black skirt that ends in sensible black shoes that are slowly climbing up the coaster tracks, with all the water draining to the back of the car and the anticipation building with each slow clack of chain against track. This is not a picture of a bright pink hijab rushing from the crest of the hill towards the waiting pool of water waiting underneath the bridge where several children stand, eagerly hoping for the wave that will be sent their way by the gravity bound car, their smiles growing with each second of decent. This is not a picture of a round, baby-ish face peaking from the center of the pink fabric, light brown skin covered in droplets of water that are refracting light in every direction, arms braced against the seat ahead, eyes closed, smiling so large that miles of teeth can be seen, releasing a loud, childish giggle a millisecond before the rushing water crashes down around everyone.
of a child’s stuffed rabbit, sitting upside down on the side of the road, it’s white fur matted from yesterday’s rain. This is not a picture of a black yarn smile, flipped on its head to form a grotesque, elongated frown that seems to sink lower and lower, getting closer and closer to the ground with each day. This is not a picture of a simple purple vest with blue buttons that used to be the most perfect lilac, but is now covered in dirt and grime; a vest that used to be encircled by a child’s arm as its wearer was hugged and loved, but is now only the home of spiders and beetles seeking refuge. This is not a picture of a toy that’s lost hope, with ears that are bent and broken, black plastic eyes that have lost their luster, and a fluffy white tail that will never know the tug of a child’s loving hand again.
I’ve gotten caught up in things going on at home, but don’t worry; I won’t be neglecting you much longer. I’m going to queue up a lot of stuff tonight.
I recently found a writing exercise called “This is not a picture…” The exercise is to describe something seen, usually with a certain emotional overtone. I’m going to post a couple of those. Hope you guys enjoy =]
I really enjoyed Oryx and Crake. It was kind of a mix between post-apocalyptica and dystopia/speculative fiction. By the post I reblogged of yours, I'm assuming you've read The Handmaid's Tale (also by Margaret Atwood)? Oryx and Crake isn't quite like that. The dysptopia isn't quite as dramatic (but it's definitely there) and there's more talk of scientific advances and technology, but there is a political undertone. So, I'd recommend it, and it's sequel Year of the Flood, which takes place during approximately the same time frame through the perspective of different characters and clears a few things up from the first book (though, I didn't enjoy Year of the Flood quite as much as Oryx and Crake).
Thanks for reviewing that for me! It sounded pretty interesting, and I planned to go look for it next time I went to the bookstore, but I hadn’t actually looked to see what opinions there were about it. I actually am only just no reading the Handmaid’s Tale. I posted the original post when I got the book and it’s just now come up on my list. I’m enjoying it though; I’m not really sure what it is, but there’s something very dream-like about the way she writes. It may be the way she weaves the narrator’s memories in and out of the plot. It gives me the feeling of just having woken up, when you aren’t quite sure if you’re still dreaming or if your dream was a dream or reality.