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Dec. 4th, 2005 06:35 pmStephen King's HEARTS IN ATLANTIS is now one of my new favorite novels ever, even if it is marred by the presence of a huge frickin' plot hole. Actually, it feels less like a plot hole and more like I missed one episode of a ten part miniseries, know what I mean? Seriously, what the hell happened with Blind Willie? It was so good then it just stopped and suddenly, boom, Sully-John has the glove?! WTF?! Other than that, it was brilliant. Wonderful plotting, wonderful characters, just a rich, moving story (or stories, depending on how you want to look at it) altogether.
I finished the book on tape edition, read by King himself and William Hurt. Hurt delivered what may well be the best live reading I've ever heard, seriously. George Guidall and Frank Muller, the resident "stars" of the book-on-tape world, are brilliant, no doubt, and utter joys to listen to. But Hurt's performance felt so much more like... well, like a performance by an actor. I think the major difference between him and the regular book-on-tape people is that he would use pauses, understanding the pure power of the pause. If I were reading the same book, I don't think I'd even consider pausing over the places he did, and the story was even more effective for it. William Hurt may still strike me as a total dick in real life, just the vibe I get, but he is masterful here.
In other news, David Mamet's OLEANNA is THE feel-pissed play of the year. Maybe ever. Holy bejeezus, I knew I had to wait an hour after seeing it because I was not safe to drive. The good news is I think and seriously hope that was Mamet's intention. And he only said "fuck" once! Wow. Seriously, though, god damn I was in a stabby mood for so long. It was a good play, maybe possibly a great play, but I don't think I ever want to see it again.
I finished the book on tape edition, read by King himself and William Hurt. Hurt delivered what may well be the best live reading I've ever heard, seriously. George Guidall and Frank Muller, the resident "stars" of the book-on-tape world, are brilliant, no doubt, and utter joys to listen to. But Hurt's performance felt so much more like... well, like a performance by an actor. I think the major difference between him and the regular book-on-tape people is that he would use pauses, understanding the pure power of the pause. If I were reading the same book, I don't think I'd even consider pausing over the places he did, and the story was even more effective for it. William Hurt may still strike me as a total dick in real life, just the vibe I get, but he is masterful here.
In other news, David Mamet's OLEANNA is THE feel-pissed play of the year. Maybe ever. Holy bejeezus, I knew I had to wait an hour after seeing it because I was not safe to drive. The good news is I think and seriously hope that was Mamet's intention. And he only said "fuck" once! Wow. Seriously, though, god damn I was in a stabby mood for so long. It was a good play, maybe possibly a great play, but I don't think I ever want to see it again.
