Movie! The Other Boleyn Girl

Last night I caught a midnight showing of The Other Boleyn Girl, which as you know I read last month and adored. And the movie was good, a very faithful retelling, with most of the changes being understandable, considering the medium.

However, and I loathe to make this comparison, it did remind me of the movie verson of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Sure the events were covered, but so much of the raw emotion was lacking. For me, I could still feel it, sense it, remember the words I'd read so recently. But I do wonder, for the audiences who haven't familiarized themselves with those words, how the movie comes across. Is it good, or the great that the book was?

Snuck up on me

The Notebook
By: Nicholas Sparks

I realize in some ways that my literary life this month is as girlly as can be. My reading was on hold as I prepared for The Vagina Monologues, a production that opened only a few days before. Before bed, I’ve been reading a chapter here and there of a Jane Austen novel, my first. Tonight though, I decided to take a break from both of those things, when I found my unread copy of The Notebook in a box.

I must say that my initial reaction was disappointment. Another story about a woman emotionally cheating on her intended with a man she loved a lifetime before? Am I missing some important female gene that makes this not appealing? As the story continued though, I became more and more invested. I did care about these characters, and I found myself believing that their love was something special.

Then, right as I was about to give the book a chance, Nicholas Sparks threw me and the story became spectacular. Those who have read the book or have seen the movie (which I will be watching sometime within the week) probably know of what I speak. A drastic time jump, which suddenly made the tale heartbreaking and tragic in an all too real way. I felt tears stinging my eyes, tears that fifteen pages before I would have found improbable.

And I suppose, that’s really what the story is about. Not the first 150 pages, which merely introduce you to our characters, but the final 60 pages, which I feel, read like a true love story. Not a romance novel, which was what I felt I was getting into at first. But a love story.

There’s a difference.

Engaging and Heartbreaking

Picture Perfect
By: Jodi Picoult

I don’t know why it took me so long to get into this book. My busy schedule? The script staring at me from across the room, chanting memorize me, memorize me (totally did, btw)? The fact that I’d only open the pages late at night, as my eyes were already closing? I’ll never know.

It was only due to lack of time or extreme exhaustion that I put the book down. Picoult so beautifully describes this horrible marriage, these horrible situations. The characters are so well drawn, especially our two leads, that even with the horridness, I could find myself feeling sympathy for multiple parties, really hoping that they’d cure themselves.

I did, however, feel that the last ten or so pages were a bit rushed, that I would have enjoyed to read more about that time. Ten more pages perhaps, or even a few more well written segments. I also wanted more from the character of Ophelia, one of the few characters who I did not feel was especially developed in our story.

Still, this was my first book by Jodi Picoult, and after this experience, it won’t be my last.