Last night my family and I went to see The Hobbit. It was a fairly big deal – we’ve not been to the cinema together since Prince Caspian (sensing a theme?). I love the humour of The Hobbit’s narration and knew the film would raise some laughs but was intrigued to see how they‘d stretch the story out over 3 full length films.
And that was the sticking point; I couldn’t shake off the sense of the story having been over-stretched. I tried to sit back and enjoy it- but I couldn’t ignore the fact that it took over half an hour for Bilbo to leave his hole. As enjoyable as the dwarf songs and slapstick humour was, it ruined any chance of Bilbo’s exit feeling rushed. His panic is integral to the story, and without it the plot lost momentum and purpose.
The action scenes were drawn out and shot so quickly as to mostly be a blur. I’m pretty certain my Dad dozed off for the majority of the fighting scenes without missing much of the plot. As he pointed out, with the exception of the tree/wolves scene, there’s very little character development that takes place during the high-adrenaline scenes.
It felt like the story was being moulded into a cookie-cut adaptation in order to appeal to an imagined, short attention-spanned audience. Peter Jackson doesn’t pull it off because the fighting scenes are so frequent and drawn out that they loss their tension. It’s blinding clear that all the characters will pull through. I can't help thinking that newcomers to the story will lose interest and Tolkien fans will only notice the inconsistencies.
I won’t pretend I'll avoid the next two films, but I’m not convinced they’ll be worth the admission cost. It’s ironic that a film about greed has been ruined by an attempt to prioritise revenue over quality. Yes, The Hobbit is a jam-packed book to adapt. But dragging it out over 3 films has meant a lack of direction, tension and purpose. Not to mention losing that satisfying sense of a story well told. This hobbit is unimpressed.
The Night Circus arrives without warning. Yesterday there was a bare field, today there is a circus. Nobody knows where it came from or how it arrived. Everything about it is a mystery, even to the performers. Opening only at dusk, the Night Circus attracts droves of customers like moths to a flame.
To those watching, the performers seem to be perfectly in control. They perform their acts with ease and charm their audiences. But beneath the polished acts lie dark secrets. Chosen as the venue for a dark challenge between two young magicians, the fate of the circus is tied to their fate.
Demonstrating their skill, each player begins to to make intricate additions to the circus. As the connection between them strengthens, the pressure of the duel begins to take its toll on the circus. Suspended in this unearthly game, the circus members begin to lose touch with reality. When will the challenge end? Who will be declared winner, and what will this mean for the circus?
This is such a delight to read. The imagery used jumps right out of the page, until you almost feel like running off to the circus yourself. Erin Morgnestern conveys such a physical impression of the circus that despite the supernatural events the circus seems touchable, real. Her knack for using myriad details and weaving these together continuously throughout the book must have taken an impressive amount of planning.
The best thing about the novel was the way in which the circus kept growing, kept being discovered. Each new tent is described with such originality and freshness. Here's one of my favourites, The Cloud Maze:
'The tower itself is a series of platforms swooping in odd, diaphanous shapes, quite similar to clouds. They are layered, like a cake. From what Bailey can see, the space between layers varies from enough to walk straight through to barely enough to crawl. Here and there parts of it almost float away from the central tower, drifting off into space.
And everywhere, there are people climbing. Hanging on edges, walking through paths, climbing higher or lower. Some platforms move with the weight; other seem strong and sturdy. The whole of it moves constantly, a light movement like breathing.'
Part of the reason Erin Morgnestern is able to conjure up the circus so vividly is that we view it through so many different eyes. We're pulled along by the playful twins Poppet and Wiget, guided by their awestruck new-found friend Bailey, and educated by the detail-loving, clockmaker Friedrick Thiessen. All these experiences combine until the circus becomes the most concrete and known character of the book.
This concentration on the setting and the episodic structure of the chapters, which switch between scenes and time periods, meant that I couldn't quite get a hold on any of the main characters. Some disappear for pages and pages, only to surprise me with how little I missed them on their return. But maybe that's not a bad thing. There is so much else to concentrate on in this book, so many senses being evoked that I was left with only scant attention to pay the characters.
What was unmissable was the tension between the two dueling magicians. Erin Morgnestern builds up the chemistry between these two until it's almost unbearable. I loved it, and I'm not ashamed to admit it.
This is a fantastic, inspiring read that'll worm its way into your head.
