3 posts tagged “books”
The packaging of the book is superbly clever, just as the reversable cover to the "Autobiography." was. The cover closes with an elastic strap and opens to reveal a file folder that contains a poster and the actual book, a slim paperpack. The book has lots of little extras that give it a "scrapbook" feel; pasted on photographs, fold-out pages and cards that flip open.
I don't want to reveal any spoilers, so I won't mention any of the specific revelations made in the letters (besides, who knows if they can be trusted, or if they truly refer to what they seem to refer to).
I will say, however, that tSoUE is one of the cleverests, funniest children's series ever written, and is even more rewarding to the adult reader.
10. Hazel, from Watership Down by Richard Adams. I might as well get the weirdest of my literary crushes out of the way in the number ten slot. Yes, Hazel is a rabbit. And as far as fictional animals go, he’s not even particularly anthropomorphized. I don’t care. Hazel is smart, brave, kind, and a great leader.
9. Huck Finn, from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. Coming in at number nine is my second most disturbing literary crush. Huck Finn is at least human, but he is pretty much a child. In my defense, I read the book when I was thirteen. Huck was perfectly acceptable then. My love for Huck Finn stems from the fact that, although he is on the outskirts of his community- the son of the town drunk, lazy, wild, and uneducated, Huck is a better person than most of the folk that turn up their noses at him. His decision to follow his heart and help Jim escape, while all of his cultural knowledge is telling him that this is the sin is one of most touching moments in American Literature.
8. Zaphod Beeblebrox, from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. One of three characters on this list that could be considered non-human, the two-headed, three armed president of the galaxy is reckless and dashing, goofy and insane. He’s not unintelligent, but he isn’t quite all there either. I waffled between choosing Zaphod or Arthur Dent, but ultimately had to go with the one who’s been called “the best Bang since the big one.”
7. Mercutio, from Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. Although Romeo has become synonymous with romantic lovers, he never did much for me. Far from being loyal, he actually strikes me as inconstant; if it hadn’t been for the forbidden nature of his and Juliet’s relationship, they would have been over each other within two weeks, tops. But Mercutio- there’s loyalty. He’s well aware of the stupidity of the feud but remains loyal to the Montagues nevertheless, ultimately laying down his life. The cynical bitterness of the character is also intriguing, as is his obvious intelligence and his sharp sense of humor.
6. Rhett Butler, from Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell. Rhett Butler is the only traditional romantic hero to appear on this list; he’s pretty much the prototypical rakehell that’s starred in every Harlequin or Mills & Boone romance since then. Scarlett was absolutely crazy not to recognize what she had; Rhett may not be perfect but he was perfect for her. Like he said, they were both “scoundrels.” His devotion to his daughter was also charming; his brokenness after the death of Bonnie Blue remains one of the most heart wrenching things I’ve ever read.
5. Inigo Montoya, from The Princess Bride by S. Morgenstern abridged by William Goldman. Westley is nice, I suppose, but at his core he’s pretty dull, and why he loves Buttercup (who may be beautiful but is as dumb as a box of hair) is beyond me. Give me the tortured soul of Inigo Montoya, seeking to avenge his father by killing the six-fingered man. Inigo’s athleticism, skill, and dedication are all worthy attributes.
4. Lemony Snicket, from A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket. Lemony Snicket started out as the pen name for author Daniel Handler, but it soon became apparent that Snicket was a character in his own right. Smart and dryly humourous, Lemony Snicket’s narration makes the Baudelaires’ woeful story bearable. And his undying devotion to the dearly departed Beatrice is very romantic, if not a little morbid.
3. Atticus Finch, from To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee. Atticus Finch is crushworthy because of his upstanding strong sense of morality. He is also one of the best fathers ever represented in literature. He’s a legal genius (though he loses his big case), and truly compassionate.
2. Remus Lupin, from Harry Potter by JK Rowling. I could crush on Harry or one of his schoolmates, but the time between each book means I grew up faster than they did. Their teenage angst-fests didn’t kill the emotional connection and sympathy I feel for the characters, but it does make it hard to crush on them. Meanwhile, the third book, when Harry was thirteen, coincided with my own thirteenth year, but I was instantly drawn to one of the adult characters in that book: Remus Lupin. Even before I knew he was a werewolf (yeah, I don’t catch onto plot twists so well), I loved him: he was kind and smart and an absolutely awesomely talented teacher. I knew then that teaching was what I wanted to do, and while I won’t be teaching any magic, Lupin is the sort of teacher I want to be. After the twist was revealed, I loved Lupin even more, for his strength in the face of tremendous obstacles, and although Lupin himself probably won’t like this reason, I liked him because he was a werewolf. His façade of emotional control covers a wild animal- and that’s pretty exciting.
1. Sherlock Holmes, created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. My biggest literary crush often seems like the most incomprehensible (yes, even more incomprehensible than the rabbit and the alien). His physical description (and the illustrations inspired by it) aren’t particularly attractive. He isn’t very nice; in fact he’s condescending and arrogant. He’s addicted to cocaine and is terribly moody. His regard for women is even lower than his regard for the human species as a whole. He can certainly put on a civilized veneer and act chivalrous, but he isn’t particularly romantic; in fact you get the sense that he may have never been with a woman and may never feel the need to be. Maybe that’s the attraction; maybe it’s wrapped up in the feeling that maybe he could just be changed if the right person came along. His most attractive quality is by far his intelligence, and somehow, that’s enough for me.
