If you thought there were a lot of twists and turns in the movie The Prestige, wait until you 
read the book upon which the movie was based. You’ll be scratching and shaking your head at least as much as you were when you walked out of the theater.
Both book and movie tell the story of two stage magicians in Victorian England, engaged in an obsessive rivalry to possess each other’s secrets. That’s about where the similarities end, though, and that’s the main reason I enjoyed reading the book so much. If I wanted a rehash, I’d just see the movie again. (OK, I did that, too.)
The plot is too intricate to summarize here, and it would give away too much anyway. The book is a little creepier than the movie, and while it illuminates some mysteries, it also introduces others not even hinted at in the film.
Did anyone read the book before seeing the movie? What did you think of the screen adaptation?
March 26th, 2007
Kathy - Meadowridge
Unlike Robin and Molly, I’m not much of a rereader. Too many books, too little time. It’s an occupational hazard. I don’t want to spend precious reading time on stuff I’ve already read.
So I’m not sure why I picked up Rereadings, a volume of essays edited by Anne Fadiman, that explores what happens when we revisit books we loved in our younger days. The essayists discuss works and authors as varied as Rimbaud, the Sue Barton nurse series books, and the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album cover. As you might imagine, some found their old favorites a bit thin while others discovered ideas that sailed right over their heads the first time around–for better or for worse.
Not every essay resonates. Some I just skimmed for lack of any personal reference points, not having been enamored of D.H. Lawrence in my youth. But you don’t have to have read Pride and Prejudice to nod along with Allegra Goodman when she writes,
“I think unfolding is what rereading is all about. Like pleated fabric, the text reveals different parts of its pattern at different times. And yet every time the text unfolds, in the library, or in bed, or upon the grass, the reader adds new wrinkles. Memory and experience press themselves into each reading so that each encounter informs the next.”
Obvious, maybe, but well said. Guess I should dust off my copy of Little Women and see what wrinkles I can add to it now.
February 17th, 2007
Kathy - Meadowridge