"Interview With The Vampire," Anne Rice

I'm a little ashamed that I read this book all the way through, but there is a reason! Just as with "Pride and Prejudice," at a certain point in my life I adored the movie version of this book, but I had never actually read the book. I had tried, but somewhere in the middle I just couldn't keep going. I had seen the movie, so what was the point of reading further?

After finishing "Pride" and thoroughly enjoying it, I thought back to these days of yore and decided - hey, maybe I was wrong about "Interview" as well! It certainly wasn't going to be a masterpiece of English literature, but maybe there was good trashy fun to be and I had been too mopey to pick up on it. And besides, it was there at the library! For free!

Yeah. I was right the first time round.

The problem? Vampires, at least in Rice's conception, are really whiny creatures. You would think that with the advantages of superhuman strength and eternal life, they might have interesting adventures or at least cultivate a hobby, but generally vampires do very little other than suck people's blood and think about how bored they are. Perhaps they suffer from SAD. Whatever the case, it was unattractive, kind of like reading about a family reunion gone wrong, only with the petty fights and angsty declarations of hate going on forever.

I'm being a bit harsh - the first part of the book, where the titular vampire is just discovering his powers, is interesting, mainly because of Rice's descriptions of old New Orleans - very romantic and sensual. After the book moves out of New Orleans, the ratio of gothic romance to people crying about how bored they are drops dramatically, to the story's detriment.

Also, much of the book's appeal rests on its veiled sexuality - there's intimations of homosexuality/incest but not really because they're all vampires, and so on. This was much more titillating back when I was reading the book under the table during science class. Perhaps I should try A.N. Roquelaure/Anne Rampling instead?

No post about Anne Rice is complete without mention of her batshit Amazon antics.

"The Talented Mr. Ripley," Patricia Highsmith

Who doesn't like books about closety psychopaths who kill their friends, then assume their identities? This was a good read with wonderfully clean prose (I'm thinking in comparative terms to what I'm going to post on next). Highsmith is exceptionally skilled at making the reader sympathize with a character whose greatest attachment is to items and to a certain ideal of life. She also makes misogyny fun! (again, compater to what I'm going to post on next). There are lots of sequels to Talented Mr. Ripley, which means that I can sink my time into seeing how many people Ripley can get away with killing, and this time without having to imagine Matt Damon involved (unless they made a second Mr. Ripley movie and I just didn't know about it). Ah, bliss.

"One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest," Ken Kesey

I've read this book before and I've always found it an easy read, despite it being incredibly misogynistic. The women in the book are mostly Bad: borderline-incestuous, overbearing mammas, oversexed bimbos, or sexually unappealing spinsters who take out their frustrations on the poor suffering maniacs under their care. Add a redemptive Christ figure, who uses rape as a tool against the (Wo)Man, and a lot of 60s bitching about "ticky-tacky houses" and the "Combine," and it's really pretty noxious. Yet I tear through it every time. I guess the idea of the glorious return to nature is just that appealing.

The movie is a much better bet - Milos Forman cut out a lot of the scenes from the book and re-imagined the rest, and it's just less gross overall. And you can't beat Jack Nicholson, Christopher Lloyd, Brad Dourif, and... Danny DeVito. Plus Kai Winn as Nurse Ratched! (All respect to Louise Fletcher - nobody can rock a goofy hat of evil like this lady.)