Murder, Magic, and Mystery...Oh My!

While it could be argued by many that the writings of Stephen King do not make for "literature", much less "classic literature", I feel I must respectfully disagree. Perhaps it is because I grew up stealing King's novels from my father's bookshelf, but I've always found that he had the ability to tap into my darkest fears and lay them out for me to see.

Though he is best known as the "King of Horror", Stephen King took a detour in 1987 to write The Eyes of the Dragon, a tale for his 13-year-old daughter Naomi who was not particularly fond of horror stories. This novel contains all of the classic examples of fantasy writing and is told in a bedtime-story kind of way.

The plot centers around the kingdom of Delain, King Roland, his two princely sons Peter and Thomas, and the evil sorcerer Flagg. Flagg lusts for control of Delain and will stop at nothing to get it, but knows that he cannot ever rule directly. He poisons King Roland, killing him, and blames it on Roland's eldest son. Peter is what we would today call an all-American boy: he is handsome, charming, respectful, intelligent, athletic, and a wonderful hunter.

After Peter is imprisoned in the Needle (a Washington Monument-like tower), Flagg makes sure that Thomas, Peter's younger brother, succeeds his father's throne. Though Thomas is a good-hearted boy, he is also painfully gullible and slow. He appoints Flagg as his chief advisor and Flagg is finally able to rule Delain indirectly, because Thomas will listen to anything Flagg tells him.

While Flagg destroys Delain through Thomas, Peter spends years devising a way to escape the Needle, clear his name, avenge his father's murder, and save the kingdom once and for all.

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Feelin' Wicked

Nearly everyone has seen The Wizard of Oz (and those who haven't need to go watch it right this second!), but how many people can say that they know the full story behind the infamously Wicked Witch of the West? Fortunately for her, there are more and more people all the time who do, thanks to Gregory Maguire, author of Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West.

In this novel, that awful green lady is given a name: Elphaba (a phonetic play on The Wizard of Oz's author's name: L. Frank Baum). Elphaba was born with green skin and very sharp teeth, while her younger sister Nessarose (later the Wicked Witch of the East) was born very pink and lacking arms.

It is explained in the novel that Elphaba and Galinda (later Glinda the Good Witch of the South) were unwillingly made roommates at school. They begin their relationship hating one another but eventually grow very close. Elphaba is very passionate about Animal rights ("Animals" in Wicked are talking animals who hold the same rights as humans) and Galinda changes her name to Glinda--their favorite professor's mispronunciation of her name--after the professor is murdered when on the verge of announcing an important discovery showing similarities between Animals and humans. Elphaba takes up his work in secret and falls in love with a young prince named Fiyero, whose body is covered in a pattern of blue diamonds.

Elphaba discovers who is responsible for the professor's murder and she and Glinda travel to Oz to seek the Wizard's help. When they are rebuffed, Elphaba sends Glinda back to school and remains behind, telling Glinda that she cannot see her again and that she shall be taking matters into her own hands.

The next five years are spent in vigilantism for Elphaba, trying to free the Animals and throw the Wizard out of power. Fiyero finds her and they begin an illicit affair, though Fiyero already has a wife and three children. The Gale Force, the Wizard's secret police squad, are looking for Elphaba but find Fiyero alone in her apartment. Fiyero is kidnapped and murdered, sending Elphaba spiraling into a grief so strong that she abandons her cause and spends the next six years as a mute nun.

Eventually, Elphaba returns home at the request of her father to help her sister Nessarose. While there, Nessarose promises Elphaba that she may have her ruby slippers--enchanted by Glinda so that Nessarose may walk without assistance--after her death. This is where our friend Dorothy comes in.

When Dorothy's house falls on Nessarose, killing her, Glinda gives Dorothy the ruby slippers and sends her to find the Wizard, in hopes that he can send her back to Kansas. Glinda fears for Dorothy's safety. Meanwhile, Elphaba is livid that Glinda gave Nessarose's shoes to Dorothy. After meeting with the Wizard, she finds out that Dorothy & Co. are on their way to her castle, possibly to kill her. Elphaba returns to her castle and Dorothy confirms that the Wizard sent them to kill her, but that she really just wants to apologize for killing her sister. Elphaba is doubtful and enraged and accidentally sets herself on fire. Dorothy, trying to help, throws a bucket of water on her to put her out, but melts her instead.

After reading this novel, I couldn't help but feel sorry for Elphaba. Though she has always been referred to as Wicked, she wasn't really. This poor, unfortunately green girl was simply misunderstood.

Grow up already, wouldja?

It is difficult to believe that there is anyone these days who is not at least mildly familiar with the famous tale of the boy who wouldn't grow up. However, it is sadly unsurprising that there are few who have actually read his classic story.

Peter Pan the novel is vastly different than Peter Pan the beloved Disney film. True, they both feature the mischievous Peter, the motherly Wendy Darling with her brothers John and Michael, as well as the Lost Boys, the swashbuckling pirates, that tart Tinker Bell, and the nefarious Captain Hook, all found in the mysterious island of Neverland. However, most of the similarities stop there.

While Disney's Peter is a fun-loving, good-humored young scamp who wants to stay a child forever, J.M. Barrie's Peter is a cruel, sardonic young boy who hates mothers and has no problem playing mean-spirited tricks. Perhaps Disney's most famous--and most highly marketable--character from that film, Tinker Bell, is also portrayed very differently than she is written to be in the novel. In the animated classic, the pixie spends much of her time pouting about Wendy and flitting about and, importantly, never speaks. However, this contrasts sharply with Barrie's Tinker Bell who swears like a sailor and talks the Lost Boys into trying to shoot Wendy down out of the sky.

Obviously, the original J.M. Barrie tale of the flying boy is much darker than the popular Disney portrayal makes it out to be. Some may think that it would ruin the story and the moral behind it, but it serves to make the story much more palatable and interesting to adult readers. The story itself and the language Barrie uses is often intriguing and very engaging. For example, the opening paragraph:

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will grow up, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years old she was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran with it to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, for Mrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, "Oh, why can't you remain like this for ever!" This was all that passed between them on the subject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You always know after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end.

Barrie himself is an ever-present narrator, often stepping out of the story to remark on something and taking the reader off on a bit of a tangent, before remembering he has a story to tell and getting back down to business. These tangential digressions can be a bit confusing from time to time, but the author's peculiarities shine through them and can also be quite amusing.

Overall, Peter Pan is a novel that is vastly underappreciated because too many people assume it to be of the same caliber as the Disney film. It may be a story about a young boy who refuses to grow up, but it teaches every reader that it is far better to become an adult and deal with the responsibilities that come with it than to stay young forever alone and forgetful of anyone who ever loved you.

For more reviews on this underrated classic tale, please visit the following:
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If interested in reading Peter's story for yourself, you can do so in its entirety here:
Project Gutenberg

Long Semester's Journey Into Graduation

It's getting to be that time again, folks, and the combination of spring fever and senioritis is certainly working a number on me. So what does a giddy gal like me read to plunge back down into those undergraduate pits of despair? Eugene O'neill, of course! More specifically, his masterpiece play Long Day's Journey Into Night. (Sounds upbeat, doesn't it?)

Long Day's Journey tells only of one full day in the life of the Tyrone family in August of 1912. James Tyrone is a failed actor, his eldest son (Jamie) is a bit of a ne'er-do-well, his youngest son (Edmund) is dying of tuberculosis, and his wife Mary... *sigh* Well, there's something about Mary.

The Tyrone family's favorite way of communicating is by not communicating. In fact, the men of the family make every effort to hide family difficulties, troubles, or worries from flighty Mary Tyrone. Eventually, we learn that Mary has become addicted to morphine following Edmund's birth nearly twenty years earlier. She has been fighting the addiction, having returned from the 1912 version of rehab ("the sanatorium"), but is once more displaying signs of morphine use. The Tyrones know that worry only drives Mary to morphine even more. Meanwhile, Mary is paranoid of the men's paranoia and is convinced that they're watching and analyzing her every move (which she is right about).

When Mary is in her drug-induced state, she becomes very removed from the situation and goes on and on about all the things she could have been, if ony she hadn't married that damnable James Tyrone. As a coping mechanism, the Tyrone men drink...a lot. In fact, James Tyrone very well could be considered an alcoholic and both of his boys are headed that way.

This play is extremely autobiographical (O'neill's own mother was named Mary and was a morphine addict), so much so that O'neill forbade it from ever being publicly performed until there were no remaining O'neill family members still living. The tale is also very cyclical and lacks that satisfying finish because the Tyrone family still doesn't have closure for itself by the end of the play.

While it's probably not the best choice for entertainment purposes, Long Day's Journey is O'neill's masterpiece for good reason and is a great source of insight into the psyche of the writer, as well as into our own family relationships.

For other reviews on this classic drama, please visit the following:
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