The Legend Of Huma (1988)

A prequel to the then-deserved-hit and now-overbloated-franchise called ‘Dragonlance’, this is the story of (you guessed it, subtlety was never D-Lance’s strength) Huma, a young man who is a Knight of Solamnia (Solamnic Knights are warriors that live by a Code encompassing the “Oath” and the “Measure”, the latter much more complex than the former) and his “adventures”.

Critics of Dragonlance in general have a point: The stories are fairly simple and easy to follow, having nowhere near the grand scope and descriptive power of, say, J.R.R. Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings’.  However, sometimes grand scope and descriptive power can be taken to a bit of an extreme.  Personally, while I admire the skill of Tolkien’s work, after a while reading three pages of description on exactly how a twig broke, its causes and ramifications, etc…does get a bit dull and boring.

So take this for what it is:  An excellent bit of escapist fiction, on par with the few other D-Lance novels written before the idea turned into an assembly-line production and the quality turned from predictable but charming to redundant, absurd, and just plain BAD.

In a way, this is to ‘Lord of the Rings’ what the original ‘Star Wars’ is to the second trilogy:  Much more simplistic, much more predictable, much more humorous, much more FUN, perhaps a little bit cheezy but possessing an undeniable and lasting charm that the latter simply did not (At least, in the case of ‘Star Wars’…Tolkien’s ‘Ring’ series certainly had its own charm, but the grim, boring, state-of-the-art “perfection” of the ‘Star Wars’ prequels did not).

Accepting it for what it is, it is a brilliant piece of work fully undeserving of the scorn heaped (oftentimes rightfully so) on the setting itself.  A story of “Good” versus “Evil” couldn’t be more obviously divided, but how often did you wonder who was “really” the bad guy in ‘Star Wars – A New Hope’?  Knowing Darth Vader represented “Evil” and Luke Skywalker represented “Good” (With Han Solo somewhere in the middle, admittedly) did nothing to lessen the charm of the story.  If anything, it made it more enjoyable as what it was – a wonderfully done bit of escapist (science) fiction.  You didn’t watch it to psycho-analyze the characters and consider the implications of their actions…you watched it to root for Luke and boo whenever Vader came on the screen.  To criticize ‘Huma’ for its simplicity would be to say that ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ was “derivative”.  OF COURSE it was…that was the point.  It was also a great film.

As for the story itself, having vented my frustrations over its outright dismissal, it begins with Huma encountering what would normally be, to him, a very dangerous enemy.  His reaction to the circumstances begin to define his character (Which is fairly one-dimensional, but so was Vader’s, and Skywalker’s) and the story unfolds from there.  No point in detailing everything that happens, that’s the charm of actually reading the book, since it was meant to be read for pleasure, not enlightenment.

If this is coffee-table literature, then it is coffee-table literature at its finest.  There are enough overly and intricately complex worlds out there created by authors desiring to be more and more obscure, as if obscurity and complexity equals quality.  They don’t.  Orwell’s great Novel ‘1984’ was EXTREMELY complex, and brilliant.  His Fairy Story ‘Animal Farm’ was EXTREMELY simplistic, and brilliant.  Take that, elitists.

Inspirational Quote: “Est Sularus oth Mithas”

Grade: A

Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949)

George Orwell’s great Novel (as opposed to the “Fairy Story” entitled ‘Animal Farm’) is an intricate, incisive, and terrifying warning against the dangers of blind obedience and the quiet tolerance of unacceptable changes.  It makes absolutely no attempt to moralize, and that’s exactly why it’s so scary…the story is told in a matter-of-fact way that suggests a recital of facts, and nothing more.

That’s not to say that Orwell wasn’t trying to make a point…he most certainly was.  But unlike Aldous Huxley before him and many others after him, he realizes that to inject his own personal feelings into the story explicitly serves only to push the novel towards exactly that which it is objecting to – Propaganda.  The characters are laid out, the rather complicated world is created, and the story unfolds.  It is neither good nor bad…it simply is.  In NOT trying to generate sympathy for his characters or his cause, Orwell succeeds in doing both.

In a similar fashion to ‘Hagakure’, it seems that Orwell is writing in a way that is the limit of what can be understood by most people.  An overly intellectual treatment would serve no more useful purpose, and since the message of non-conformity and freedom of thought/expression/ideas is meant for everyone, it is written for everyone to understand.  You can heed it or you can ignore it…Orwell doesn’t seem to be particularly hopeful it will do any good, and I would tend to agree with him.

Grade: A+

Brave New World (1932)

Two book reviews, two Doors appropriations.  Unfortunately, this time the source in question (Aldous Huxley, ‘The Doors of Perception’) isn’t nearly as interesting as the previous one (Yamamoto Tsunetomo, ‘Hagakure’).

‘Brave New World’ starts out ambitiously enough, suggests an extremely interesting idea, and then takes it absolutely nowhere you don’t expect it to go. 

As with ‘Equilibrium’ (although this isn’t anywhere NEAR as bad) the aspirations far exceed the accomplishment, although ‘Brave New World’ does at least maintain a constant level of moderate interest, a fervent hope that perhaps, eventually, it will regain/fulfill the promise of the opening/hype.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t, and the ending is as much symbolic of my relief of escaping Huxley’s ‘World’ as it is the very real relief of the “Savage”.

The name references are obvious, the progression is obvious, the explanations and counter-arguments are obvious…basically, this has the ambition of ‘1984’ with the verbal and conceptual simplicity of ‘Animal Farm’, only with much less subtlety and charm.

Sadly, any two-paragraph review of the plot is about as interesting as the entire book itself, and wastes far less of your time.  If he did in fact plagiarize this, he didn’t do it very well. 

The kind of “work of art” people sneer at when others have the audacity to label it a “classic”.

Grade: C

Hagakure (1716)

Propelled into the relative mainstream by the 1999 Jim Jarmusch film ‘Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai’, this collection of observations (translated roughly as “Hidden Leaves”) is extremely diverse, focusing on everything from the very mundane basic aspects of everyday life to deep philosophical/spiritual concepts, some of which I still don’t fully understand.  But that’s the point, as (to quote the book) “Those things that are easily understood are rather shallow”.

The book consists of comments recorded between 1709-1716 by Tsuramoto Tashiro as told by the samurai Yamamoto Tsunetomo.  There is very little linear order to it, as there is no clear progression from “start” to “finish”, but perhaps that’s intentional…it’s clearly not something to be read casually or simply memorized.

There seem to me to be three distinct types of entries: Physical/Mental Instruction, Philosophical Observation, and Historical Recollection…although sometimes two (or all three) intertwine.  I frankly found very little use for some of the memories recorded, not because they weren’t interesting but because, in comparison with the other entries, they had very little to actually think about and/or “use”.

The wisdom displayed in the book is truly profound, which is made that much more impressive because I get the distinct impression that most of it wasn’t MEANT to be profound, simply told in as complex a fashion as Tsunetomo believed most people would be able to actually comprehend.  It can be a bit tedious wading through the recollections…not to say that they’re boring, but they simply have nowhere near the power of the most far-reaching of the observations. 

Knowledge gained too quickly often is lacking in wisdom, and whether intentionally or not, this is certainly a book that (contrary to Tsunetomo’s own advice) must be re-read many times to even begin to fully understand.  Which is a good thing, I think.

When a book can inspire a lyric that is considered profound 251 years later, you know it’s something special.  Watch the movie (‘Ghost Dog’) for a (then)-modern day “interpretation” of ‘Hagakure’, but read the book itself if you want anything near the real, intended experience.

Grade: A

10/4/12: It cannot be explained simply, because it’s not simple.  Read it.  Grade: A+