13. Agyar by Steven Brust -- Very interesting vampire novel in which the word "vampire" is never
actually used. Told from the P.O.V. of a very unreliable narrator, the
book leaves a lot of gaps for the reader to fill in, which I really
enjoyed. It’s always nice when an author respects his audience's
intelligence.
12. The Ruins by Scott Smith -- Smith makes his four main characters embody the horror film victim archetypes -- jokester, slut, preppie, final girl -- and even goes so far as to have the jokester character point this out at one point, but by having the narration live
heavily inside the heads of the characters, we are given much more
insight into their motivations, which helps subvert the tropes.
11. Harbor by John Ajvide Lindqvist -- If he hadn't slipped my mind yesterday, I probably would have included Lindqvist in my favorite horror writer list; this story of an isolated island and the dark magic lurking there reminds me of Stephen King at his best.
10. Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice-- For me, the third book in Rice's Vampire Chronicles is a quantum leap in quality over the first two (which I enjoyed), followed by a geometric decrease in quality in the fourth (which I loathed tremendously).
9. It by Stephen King -- Notable to me as (a) the first book I ever read over 1,000 pages long and (b) one of the first books I ever read that managed to evoke a visceral feeling of disgust -- but, y'know, in a good way.
8.Summer of Night by Dan Simmons -- This story of a group of sixth graders fighting against the forces of evil in a small Illinois town in the summer of 1960 almost feels like Simmons doing a King homage, and doing it incredibly well. I was very invested in the main characters, and the deaths really go to me; that's a good horror novel right there.
7.Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson -- An excellent haunted house story. Do not judge it by the horrible 1999 film adaptation; this book is all about psychological terror, not gruesome spectacle.
6.Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill -- Hill's debut novel about an aging rocker whose collection of macabre artifacts leads to a dangerous haunting did great justice to his literary heritage as Stephen King's son.
5. Ghost Story by Peter Straub -- This is one that I chose to read initially because I loved the film adaptation, only to discover that the book is significantly different -- shocking, I know. By far my favorite of Straub's books.
4. The Stand by Stephen King -- One of the few non-Dark-Tower King novels I've read multiple times, which is saying something considering the size of this thing. Of course, one of those times was the original, abridged version, but still . . .
3.Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist -- That's right, another book by Lindqvist; told you he should have been on yesterday's list. And while his Harbor felt very King-esque, this vampire novel which inspired an excellent film adaptation has a voice all of its own.
2. Anno Dracula by Kim Newman -- Can't say enough good things about Newman's vampiric alternate history novel; the numerous cameos from various historical and literary characters (much like Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentleman) only adds to my love.
1. The Shining by Stephen King --It's been a few years since I've re-read King's take early take on a haunted mansion; I think I'm overdue to visit the Overlook again.
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 18 -- 13 Favorite Horror Novels
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Countdown to Halloween Day 17 -- 10 Favorite Horror Authors
I hesitate to even compile this list, as I don't read nearly as much horror fiction as one might expect, so I have very little experience with the works of some pretty major authors such as Robert Bloch or Richard Matheson. But, I can worry about expanding my horror fiction knowledge-base before next year's Halloween countdown -- for now, I'll just focus on the authors for whom I have read multiple works.
10. Clive Barker -- I haven't read a lot of Barker's work, and most of it would probably fall more under the heading of Fantasy than Horror. I have, however, enjoyed his horror short stories quite a bit, especially "The Forbidden," which was the basis of Candyman.
9. F. Paul Wilson -- I haven't read any of Wilson's work since high school, but I really enjoyed his Adversary Cycle, which took characters from his first three seemingly unconnected novels (The Keep, The Tomb, The Touch) and brought them together for an apocalyptic storyline that spanned three more books (Reborn, Reprisal, and the concluding novel Nightworld which I just now discovered existed -- something new to add to my ever growing reading list).
8. Robert McCammon -- I enjoyed McCammon's Mystery Walk, short story collection Blue World, and the post-apocalyptic novel Swan Song, but it's really the strength of Mine that earns him a spot on the list.
7. Peter Straub -- If I were just going off the strength of his excellent Ghost Story alone, Straub would be higher on my list; as it is, while I liked Julia and Mr. X okay, they didn't exactly grab me, and his recent book A Dark Matter started off strong, but totally lost me by the end.
6. Joe Hill -- I was already a fan of Hill from his horror comic Locke & Key before I sampled his novel Horns, saw his picture on the back cover, and thought to myself "Gee, he could pass for Stephen King's son." It wasn't until I was looking him up on line to find out what else he had written that I discovered that there's a very good reason for that . . . Anyway, while I enjoyed Horns quite a bit, his debut novel Heart Shaped Box was one of the best horror novels I've read in ages.
5. Dean Koontz -- I'll admit to eventually growing a bit disillusioned with the prolific Koontz's later works, but I devoured his work in the 80s and 90s. Watchers, Midnight, Phantoms, Whispers, The Bad Place, Dragon Tears, Intensity -- they may not have been great literature, but they captured my imagination enough to lead me to track down everything of his I could find.
4. Dan Simmons -- Although I've read more of Simmons Sci-Fi work than his Horror work, the Horror novels of his I have read (Song of Kali, The Terror, Summer of Night) have all been very different, but very well done; I especially enjoyed Summer of Night, which I reviewed a few years back.
3. H. P. Lovecraft -- Very few writers have managed to give me chills; some of the descriptive passages in Lovecraft's story "Pickman's Model" did precisely that. For that alone he'd make this list.
2. Kim Newman --While I enjoyed Newman's Jago and Bad Dreams more than his The Quorum, his high ranking on this list is based primarily on his Anno Dracula series, which postulates a world wherein the vampiric count escapes Van Helsing and crew and becomes ruler of England, making vampirism fashionable. The first novel in the series is one of my favorite books, and I'm glad to hear that a new volume, Johnny Alucard, is scheduled to be published next year.
1. Stephen King -- Was there really any doubt on this one? The Stand, It, Desperation, Salem's Lot, Bag of Bones, Misery, and, of course, The Shining; even with a handful of books that I didn't care for -- I'm looking at you, Tommyknockers and Insomnia -- the bulk of King's work resonates with me on a level it's hard to ignore. Plus, his It is another work that gave me chills.
10. Clive Barker -- I haven't read a lot of Barker's work, and most of it would probably fall more under the heading of Fantasy than Horror. I have, however, enjoyed his horror short stories quite a bit, especially "The Forbidden," which was the basis of Candyman.
9. F. Paul Wilson -- I haven't read any of Wilson's work since high school, but I really enjoyed his Adversary Cycle, which took characters from his first three seemingly unconnected novels (The Keep, The Tomb, The Touch) and brought them together for an apocalyptic storyline that spanned three more books (Reborn, Reprisal, and the concluding novel Nightworld which I just now discovered existed -- something new to add to my ever growing reading list).
8. Robert McCammon -- I enjoyed McCammon's Mystery Walk, short story collection Blue World, and the post-apocalyptic novel Swan Song, but it's really the strength of Mine that earns him a spot on the list.
7. Peter Straub -- If I were just going off the strength of his excellent Ghost Story alone, Straub would be higher on my list; as it is, while I liked Julia and Mr. X okay, they didn't exactly grab me, and his recent book A Dark Matter started off strong, but totally lost me by the end.
6. Joe Hill -- I was already a fan of Hill from his horror comic Locke & Key before I sampled his novel Horns, saw his picture on the back cover, and thought to myself "Gee, he could pass for Stephen King's son." It wasn't until I was looking him up on line to find out what else he had written that I discovered that there's a very good reason for that . . . Anyway, while I enjoyed Horns quite a bit, his debut novel Heart Shaped Box was one of the best horror novels I've read in ages.
5. Dean Koontz -- I'll admit to eventually growing a bit disillusioned with the prolific Koontz's later works, but I devoured his work in the 80s and 90s. Watchers, Midnight, Phantoms, Whispers, The Bad Place, Dragon Tears, Intensity -- they may not have been great literature, but they captured my imagination enough to lead me to track down everything of his I could find.
4. Dan Simmons -- Although I've read more of Simmons Sci-Fi work than his Horror work, the Horror novels of his I have read (Song of Kali, The Terror, Summer of Night) have all been very different, but very well done; I especially enjoyed Summer of Night, which I reviewed a few years back.
3. H. P. Lovecraft -- Very few writers have managed to give me chills; some of the descriptive passages in Lovecraft's story "Pickman's Model" did precisely that. For that alone he'd make this list.
2. Kim Newman --While I enjoyed Newman's Jago and Bad Dreams more than his The Quorum, his high ranking on this list is based primarily on his Anno Dracula series, which postulates a world wherein the vampiric count escapes Van Helsing and crew and becomes ruler of England, making vampirism fashionable. The first novel in the series is one of my favorite books, and I'm glad to hear that a new volume, Johnny Alucard, is scheduled to be published next year.
1. Stephen King -- Was there really any doubt on this one? The Stand, It, Desperation, Salem's Lot, Bag of Bones, Misery, and, of course, The Shining; even with a handful of books that I didn't care for -- I'm looking at you, Tommyknockers and Insomnia -- the bulk of King's work resonates with me on a level it's hard to ignore. Plus, his It is another work that gave me chills.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The Spoiler Effect: To Know, or Not to Know?
If you've spent much time reading about and/or discussing your entertainment type of choice, odds are good that you have come across examples of the dreaded spoiler, i.e. plot and character information about something you haven't yet watched/read/listened to/downloaded directly into your cerebellum.* And if you peruse message boards and comment sections, odds are even better that you've run into people who are on both sides of the spoiler debate; to wit, whether a spoiler is truly harmful to a person's enjoyment of a work or not. Recently, the pro-spoiler camp got some new ammo in the fight with the release of a study that's been reported all over the place in articles bearing variations of "Spoilers Don't Spoil Anything" as a headline. After seeing the umpteenth "Science proves spoilers are harmless!" article, I decided as a member of the anti-spoiler camp it was time for me to compose a rebuttal.
One argument that gets trotted out a lot by spoiler proponents is along the lines of "If the big twist is all something has going for it, it's not really worth much, is it?" And yes, I will concede that there are some works out there whose primary value is of the shock variety, and therefore lose most of their potency when the audience is deprived of said shock. However, to say that something only has shock value is not to say that it has no value at all; and, if something's value is tied directly into the twist, why would you feel the need to ruin that experience for someone? Not everything is designed to be viewed or read over and over again; I don't believe disposable entertainment is the downfall of our culture as long as there are still other works out there that engage people on other levels.
A related argument says "If a work is done well, then what does it matter whether you know what's going to happen? The skill and talent involved will make it worthwhile regardless." This argument often relies on the concept of re-reading and re-watching to drive its point home, the idea being that when you experience a work a second time, you know what's going to happen and you still enjoy it, so therefore you would have enjoyed it in the first place no matter what. What the people who use this argument fail to grasp is that just because you can enjoy a work even with spoilers doesn't mean that your level of enjoyment is the same, nor is the type of enjoyment you experience the same.
Let's take a couple of examples from my own life. First, the film Serenity. I love this film, and have watched it multiple times without my enjoyment of it lessening at all. However, my first viewing was a distinctly different experience from all subsequent viewings due to the high level of tension I felt over the fate of the characters. In the final act of the film, there is a distinct moment for each character wherein that character could possibly die, and with each of those moments I felt a stab of fear that this character I loved might be gone for good. Now, if I had gone in knowing ahead of time precisely which characters would survive and which wouldn't, that tension and fear that kept me glued to the screen would have been lessened; and, while I can still watch the film and enjoy it for the writing, acting, direction, action, etc., I will never again be able to reproduce that original feeling. But at the same time, when I re-watch the film, I can sometimes feel echoes of that tension, and remember just how powerfully it affected me the first time.
On the flip side is the movie Psycho. By the time I saw the Hitchcock classic my 7th grade year -- caution, mild spoilers ahead -- the shower scene and the secret of Norman's mother had long since been burned into my brain through pop culture awareness, and my highly anticipated viewing of it was quite underwhelming. You could chalk part of that up to my being a callow youth at the time, but what people sometimes forget about Psycho is that those unfamiliar with the plot went in thinking that Janet Leigh's character would be the protagonist throughout, making her death at the end of the first act extremely shocking. I, however, went in with a working knowledge of the Bates Motel set-up and the circumstances of her demise, so the shower sequence lost a great deal of its impact.
Of course, in both of these cases, pro-spoiler advocates might argue that I'm only conjecturing how I might have reacted in the presence of absence of spoilers, but I can't really know for sure; and, while it might be true that I can't know 100%, my overall experience of reading and watching both spoiled and non-spoiled entertainment has given me a pretty solid foundation upon which to base my conclusions.
"But Todd," the pro-spoilers among you might be asking, "so far you've been talking about general pro-spoiler arguments, but what about the study that sparked this diatribe? Are you arguing against science?"
No, of course not. What I am arguing against is a study whose sweeping conclusions about the value of surprise -- or lack thereof -- appear to be an example of comparing apples and oranges. The study is based on giving a group of undergraduates a selection of short stories, some with spoilers attached, some without, and then having them rate their enjoyment of each. They found that the enjoyment factor was generally larger among those who had been spoiled as opposed to those who hadn't, ergo spoilers don't hurt.
Oh, where to begin . . .
First of all, let's get the fact that the subjects enjoyed "literary" stories less than the more genre pieces out of the way -- after all, while it might show that the subjects picked weren't interested in more complex works, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with whether spoilers matter or not . . . although, since the study's argument rests largely on the "people prefer to deal with familiar things because they're easier" premise, it could actually be relevant . . . but I digress.
No, for me the more pressing factor is that the researchers took a small sample of people, assigned them some short stories to read, took their general rankings of enjoyment and then extrapolated it into "spoilers mean nothing, people who think they do are wrong, this could shatter our very understanding of surprise and suspense!"
Except, well, no, not really. Because first of all, short stories are not novels or TV series or movies or Comic books or plays or any other long-form piece of literature which, by their nature, rely more on developing tension and suspense over a greater period of time to achieve their effect. All formats are not created equally; each has its own strengths and weaknesses, and assuming that you can take the results of testing one type of work and apply it to all types of works is a fallacy**.
And secondly, there is a little thing called "context" involved in determining whether or not a spoiler has a negative effect on an audience member. If someone were to pull me aside, give me a random short story to read, and intro it with "And by the way, the narrator dies at the end," would I be upset and feel my enjoyment had been harmed? Possibly not. But, let's say someone were to give me the long-awaited sequel to one of my favorite books that I had been anticipating for a decade, and then tell me "It's crazy that they killed off the main character's wife on the last page, isn't it?" then, yes, odds are good that I'm going to be upset. While I am firmly anti-spoiler in my philosophy, in practice I find that I prefer certain works to remain a mystery before experiencing them, while others I couldn't care less whether they were spoiled or not. Context and emotional connection are key.
I think that's one of the things that bothers me most about the pro-spoiler camp; in addition to the one-size-fits-all, it-doesn't-bother-me-so-it-shouldn't-bother-you method of arguing, they often try to divorce all reactions to works from any emotional connection. When someone blurts out a spoiler for something you've been highly anticipating, the negative feelings generated by their carelessness can color your enjoyment of the work. That may not be rational, but it is definitely human. Trying to ignore that aspect of the spoiler phenomenon seems to be missing the point.
In the Wired article I linked to at the top, the author -- who came into this as someone who likes to read the last five pages of a book first -- comes up with his own rationalizations for why spoilers are meaningless, including this snippet:
Like I said earlier, I too have times when I indulge in spoilers, although for me it's usually in the context of sporting events or other competitions -- if someone I really like (GSP, OSU, Colts) is going up against someone I really loathe (Koscheck, OU, Patriots) and I can't watch it live, I will often go ahead and look at the results before watching so I won't give myself an ulcer hoping the good guys win out. But on the whole, when it comes to fiction, I prefer to be kept in the dark as much as possible beforehand so I can experience the work as its creators intended.
In conclusion I'd like to say this: if you're someone who enjoys knowing as much as you can about something before you read or watch it, then there's nothing wrong with that. But when you force that information onto someone who doesn't enjoy it, or deride them for their desire to be spoiler-free, it's a different story.
Audience participation time: How do you feel about spoilers? Do you want it all laid out beforehand, or do you want to be surprised at every turn?
*That last one is for future readers/downloaders.
**As is taking the study and applying it to surprise parties and wrapping presents; apparently, enjoying "An Occurance at Owl Creek Bridge" more because you know the narrator's dead means that all forms of surprise lessens all forms of enjoyment in the world.
One argument that gets trotted out a lot by spoiler proponents is along the lines of "If the big twist is all something has going for it, it's not really worth much, is it?" And yes, I will concede that there are some works out there whose primary value is of the shock variety, and therefore lose most of their potency when the audience is deprived of said shock. However, to say that something only has shock value is not to say that it has no value at all; and, if something's value is tied directly into the twist, why would you feel the need to ruin that experience for someone? Not everything is designed to be viewed or read over and over again; I don't believe disposable entertainment is the downfall of our culture as long as there are still other works out there that engage people on other levels.
A related argument says "If a work is done well, then what does it matter whether you know what's going to happen? The skill and talent involved will make it worthwhile regardless." This argument often relies on the concept of re-reading and re-watching to drive its point home, the idea being that when you experience a work a second time, you know what's going to happen and you still enjoy it, so therefore you would have enjoyed it in the first place no matter what. What the people who use this argument fail to grasp is that just because you can enjoy a work even with spoilers doesn't mean that your level of enjoyment is the same, nor is the type of enjoyment you experience the same.
Let's take a couple of examples from my own life. First, the film Serenity. I love this film, and have watched it multiple times without my enjoyment of it lessening at all. However, my first viewing was a distinctly different experience from all subsequent viewings due to the high level of tension I felt over the fate of the characters. In the final act of the film, there is a distinct moment for each character wherein that character could possibly die, and with each of those moments I felt a stab of fear that this character I loved might be gone for good. Now, if I had gone in knowing ahead of time precisely which characters would survive and which wouldn't, that tension and fear that kept me glued to the screen would have been lessened; and, while I can still watch the film and enjoy it for the writing, acting, direction, action, etc., I will never again be able to reproduce that original feeling. But at the same time, when I re-watch the film, I can sometimes feel echoes of that tension, and remember just how powerfully it affected me the first time.
On the flip side is the movie Psycho. By the time I saw the Hitchcock classic my 7th grade year -- caution, mild spoilers ahead -- the shower scene and the secret of Norman's mother had long since been burned into my brain through pop culture awareness, and my highly anticipated viewing of it was quite underwhelming. You could chalk part of that up to my being a callow youth at the time, but what people sometimes forget about Psycho is that those unfamiliar with the plot went in thinking that Janet Leigh's character would be the protagonist throughout, making her death at the end of the first act extremely shocking. I, however, went in with a working knowledge of the Bates Motel set-up and the circumstances of her demise, so the shower sequence lost a great deal of its impact.
Of course, in both of these cases, pro-spoiler advocates might argue that I'm only conjecturing how I might have reacted in the presence of absence of spoilers, but I can't really know for sure; and, while it might be true that I can't know 100%, my overall experience of reading and watching both spoiled and non-spoiled entertainment has given me a pretty solid foundation upon which to base my conclusions.
"But Todd," the pro-spoilers among you might be asking, "so far you've been talking about general pro-spoiler arguments, but what about the study that sparked this diatribe? Are you arguing against science?"
No, of course not. What I am arguing against is a study whose sweeping conclusions about the value of surprise -- or lack thereof -- appear to be an example of comparing apples and oranges. The study is based on giving a group of undergraduates a selection of short stories, some with spoilers attached, some without, and then having them rate their enjoyment of each. They found that the enjoyment factor was generally larger among those who had been spoiled as opposed to those who hadn't, ergo spoilers don't hurt.
Oh, where to begin . . .
First of all, let's get the fact that the subjects enjoyed "literary" stories less than the more genre pieces out of the way -- after all, while it might show that the subjects picked weren't interested in more complex works, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with whether spoilers matter or not . . . although, since the study's argument rests largely on the "people prefer to deal with familiar things because they're easier" premise, it could actually be relevant . . . but I digress.
No, for me the more pressing factor is that the researchers took a small sample of people, assigned them some short stories to read, took their general rankings of enjoyment and then extrapolated it into "spoilers mean nothing, people who think they do are wrong, this could shatter our very understanding of surprise and suspense!"
Except, well, no, not really. Because first of all, short stories are not novels or TV series or movies or Comic books or plays or any other long-form piece of literature which, by their nature, rely more on developing tension and suspense over a greater period of time to achieve their effect. All formats are not created equally; each has its own strengths and weaknesses, and assuming that you can take the results of testing one type of work and apply it to all types of works is a fallacy**.
And secondly, there is a little thing called "context" involved in determining whether or not a spoiler has a negative effect on an audience member. If someone were to pull me aside, give me a random short story to read, and intro it with "And by the way, the narrator dies at the end," would I be upset and feel my enjoyment had been harmed? Possibly not. But, let's say someone were to give me the long-awaited sequel to one of my favorite books that I had been anticipating for a decade, and then tell me "It's crazy that they killed off the main character's wife on the last page, isn't it?" then, yes, odds are good that I'm going to be upset. While I am firmly anti-spoiler in my philosophy, in practice I find that I prefer certain works to remain a mystery before experiencing them, while others I couldn't care less whether they were spoiled or not. Context and emotional connection are key.
I think that's one of the things that bothers me most about the pro-spoiler camp; in addition to the one-size-fits-all, it-doesn't-bother-me-so-it-shouldn't-bother-you method of arguing, they often try to divorce all reactions to works from any emotional connection. When someone blurts out a spoiler for something you've been highly anticipating, the negative feelings generated by their carelessness can color your enjoyment of the work. That may not be rational, but it is definitely human. Trying to ignore that aspect of the spoiler phenomenon seems to be missing the point.
In the Wired article I linked to at the top, the author -- who came into this as someone who likes to read the last five pages of a book first -- comes up with his own rationalizations for why spoilers are meaningless, including this snippet:
The human mind is a prediction machine, which means that it registers most surprises as a cognitive failure, a mental mistake. Our first reaction is almost never “How cool! I never saw that coming!” Instead, we feel embarrassed by our gullibility, the dismay of a prediction error.As someone whose counts among his favorite works ones which generated the "How cool! I never saw that coming!" effect, I find this line of thought puzzling. Which in turn brings me back to the cornerstone of the Enjoyment Modifiers schema: the tautology of "Different People Are Different." There are those who go into a movie or novel trying to guess everything that's going to happen, and they might very well suffer disappointment when they guess wrong; then there are those such as myself who just want to submerge themselves in the experience and let it unfold before them, and they will probably react to surprises with enjoyment at where the ride has taken them.
Like I said earlier, I too have times when I indulge in spoilers, although for me it's usually in the context of sporting events or other competitions -- if someone I really like (GSP, OSU, Colts) is going up against someone I really loathe (Koscheck, OU, Patriots) and I can't watch it live, I will often go ahead and look at the results before watching so I won't give myself an ulcer hoping the good guys win out. But on the whole, when it comes to fiction, I prefer to be kept in the dark as much as possible beforehand so I can experience the work as its creators intended.
In conclusion I'd like to say this: if you're someone who enjoys knowing as much as you can about something before you read or watch it, then there's nothing wrong with that. But when you force that information onto someone who doesn't enjoy it, or deride them for their desire to be spoiler-free, it's a different story.
Audience participation time: How do you feel about spoilers? Do you want it all laid out beforehand, or do you want to be surprised at every turn?
*That last one is for future readers/downloaders.
**As is taking the study and applying it to surprise parties and wrapping presents; apparently, enjoying "An Occurance at Owl Creek Bridge" more because you know the narrator's dead means that all forms of surprise lessens all forms of enjoyment in the world.
Labels:
Books,
Enjoyment Modifiers,
Movies,
Theory,
TV
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Enjoyment Modifiers: Science Fiction
Modifier: Science Fiction
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Literature, Comics) Medium (Movies, TV)
For many people, the genre of Science Fiction conjures up images of spaceships, aliens, and futuristic landscapes, but really it encompasses a wide range of possibilities: time travel, alternate history, psychic abilities, mutations, extrapolations of scientific theories and concepts, etc. There's "hard" Sci-Fi, where all of the scientific principles are grounded in cold, hard fact -- at least as understood at the time of writing -- and then there's the branch where the laws of physics are treated more as suggestions. At its core, Science Fiction is about conjuring up a world different from our own, in ways both large and small.
One of my pet peeves is hearing a writer/actor/director/producer/etc. claim that a Sci-Fi project they're involved in isn't really a Sci-Fi project, but instead something "serious." You know, the typical "Oh, sure, we're a series set in outer space that involves sentient robots hunting down a fleet of spaceships bearing the last remnants of humanity, but we're more of a Tense Character Drama than a Science Fiction show" type of comment. This always infuriates me, as it ghettoizes the genre in a way that not only insults its fans, but also ignores the fact that Science Fiction has long been a genre which lends itself to introspection, philosophical musings, political commentary, satire, and examination of the human condition. And no, not all Science Fiction is concerned with such lofty intellectual goals, but to suggest that adding literary merit automatically removes a text from the genre is asinine.
Much like with Horror, my love of Science Fiction stems from the inventiveness and departures from the norm inherent in the genre. At the same time, Sci-Fi is the flip side of Horror in terms of which media I'm willing to cut more slack. For Sci-Fi I'm much more forgiving of the printed word than I am film; also, the MST3K Effect comes into play much less often. I believe this is because, for me, Science Fiction is largely a genre built around ideas, and when those ideas are lacking or poorly executed, the work loses me. I have low tolerance for lapses in internal consistency in Sci-Fi works; I don't care if your work plays fast and loose with science, as long as your world's rules don't contradict each other. And while Horror can often win me over with its tone and atmosphere, for Science Fiction that's a much rarer feat; yes, I can be swayed by cool visuals or effects, but they have to be well-executed, or else I'm drawn out of it.
Another aspect of Science Fiction that appeals to me is the concept of world-building. I love discovering the details of a society and culture vastly different from our own conjured up out of whole cloth, whether it be an alien world or a future shaped by radical technology shifts or a past where key events happened in vastly different ways; watching these details unfold and admiring the imagination that fuels them is one of the things that makes Science Fiction one of my favorite genres.
Audience Participation Time: Do you love all things Science Fictiony, or does anything with an out-of-this-world flavor kill your interest immediately? If you are a fan, are there any particular sub-genres you'd like to see me tackle? Comment away below, and then join me next week for a look at Sci-Fi's chaotic sibling, Fantasy.
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Literature, Comics) Medium (Movies, TV)
For many people, the genre of Science Fiction conjures up images of spaceships, aliens, and futuristic landscapes, but really it encompasses a wide range of possibilities: time travel, alternate history, psychic abilities, mutations, extrapolations of scientific theories and concepts, etc. There's "hard" Sci-Fi, where all of the scientific principles are grounded in cold, hard fact -- at least as understood at the time of writing -- and then there's the branch where the laws of physics are treated more as suggestions. At its core, Science Fiction is about conjuring up a world different from our own, in ways both large and small.
One of my pet peeves is hearing a writer/actor/director/producer/etc. claim that a Sci-Fi project they're involved in isn't really a Sci-Fi project, but instead something "serious." You know, the typical "Oh, sure, we're a series set in outer space that involves sentient robots hunting down a fleet of spaceships bearing the last remnants of humanity, but we're more of a Tense Character Drama than a Science Fiction show" type of comment. This always infuriates me, as it ghettoizes the genre in a way that not only insults its fans, but also ignores the fact that Science Fiction has long been a genre which lends itself to introspection, philosophical musings, political commentary, satire, and examination of the human condition. And no, not all Science Fiction is concerned with such lofty intellectual goals, but to suggest that adding literary merit automatically removes a text from the genre is asinine.
Much like with Horror, my love of Science Fiction stems from the inventiveness and departures from the norm inherent in the genre. At the same time, Sci-Fi is the flip side of Horror in terms of which media I'm willing to cut more slack. For Sci-Fi I'm much more forgiving of the printed word than I am film; also, the MST3K Effect comes into play much less often. I believe this is because, for me, Science Fiction is largely a genre built around ideas, and when those ideas are lacking or poorly executed, the work loses me. I have low tolerance for lapses in internal consistency in Sci-Fi works; I don't care if your work plays fast and loose with science, as long as your world's rules don't contradict each other. And while Horror can often win me over with its tone and atmosphere, for Science Fiction that's a much rarer feat; yes, I can be swayed by cool visuals or effects, but they have to be well-executed, or else I'm drawn out of it.
Another aspect of Science Fiction that appeals to me is the concept of world-building. I love discovering the details of a society and culture vastly different from our own conjured up out of whole cloth, whether it be an alien world or a future shaped by radical technology shifts or a past where key events happened in vastly different ways; watching these details unfold and admiring the imagination that fuels them is one of the things that makes Science Fiction one of my favorite genres.
Audience Participation Time: Do you love all things Science Fictiony, or does anything with an out-of-this-world flavor kill your interest immediately? If you are a fan, are there any particular sub-genres you'd like to see me tackle? Comment away below, and then join me next week for a look at Sci-Fi's chaotic sibling, Fantasy.
Labels:
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Thursday, August 11, 2011
Enjoyment Modifiers: Horror
As the first full exploration of my Enjoyment Modifiers, I suppose I should explain the format I've settled on. First, I'll give a nice itemized breakdown of the modifier name, category the modifier fits into (Genre, Plot point, Character type, etc.), type of modifier (Positive, Negative, Neutral), and the strength of the modifier to effect my enjoyment on average. For type and strength there could be multiple values, since some things effect me differently depending on the medium, as demonstrated by our first entry. After the bare bones breakdown, I'll then pontificate about why it affects me, and maybe post a few examples. So, without further ado, on to the EM exploration.
Modifier: Horror
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Film, TV) Low (Literature, Comics)
When it comes to TV and Film, I'd hazard to say that the genre of Horror is one of my most consistently powerful positive Enjoyment Modifiers, regardless of subgenre; it doesn't matter if it's vampires, slasher, werewolves, demons, or zombies*, if it's a Horror movie then odds are good I'm going to enjoy it, even if just ironically. This love of Horror fiction stems from several aspects of my personality.
First, it appeals to the part of me that is drawn to the outre, the unique, the inventive, the out-of-this-world. I have a feeling this aspect of my personality is going to pop up a lot in these posts, as I've found that I'm willing to give much more leeway to anything that's a bit "out there" than I am a more "normal" film of the same general quality. So, anything with a supernatural theme already has my interest, and even the horror featuring regular human slashers usually gets a bump from featuring some original death sequences.
Second, it appeals to my darker side; I have a cynical streak which finds boundless optimism in fiction cloying and off-putting, but with the bulk of Horror films, even when the good guys win -- and with horror that is not even close to a given -- there's generally a fatalism that resonates with my own. This fascination with the darker side of things also applies to the bleak, dreary, and creepy atmospheres you often find in Horror flicks.
Third, even the less stellar examples of horror can provide for that need that many of us share: a need for mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum that allows us to turn off our brains for a bit and just enjoy ourselves. For many people action movies fill this role; for others, it's romantic comedies or procedurals. But for me, when I'm in the mood to just vegetate, I will always turn to a B-movie filled with slashers or giant animals wreaking havoc on Z-grade actors. This is probably why out of all the genres, Horror gets the biggest boost from the MST3K effect.
Please note: I'm not saying all Horror is mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum -- just that when it is, I'm more likely to enjoy it than other examples of mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum.
In regards to the printed page, however, the bonus is much lower. Part of that is due to the fact that I prefer to get my mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum in moving picture form, and not in typeset; the whole point of such entertainment is to turn your brain off for a bit and just vegetate, and I find it much more difficult to zone out while reading.
Another factor is that I am not a particularly visual thinker, and thus the perennial bit of wisdom about how the pictures in your imagination are better than anything that makes it onto the screen doesn't always hold water for me, particularly when it comes to conjuring up mental images of the dark and disturbing things that populate Horror fiction. Not that it can't happen; I've gotten completely creeped out by descriptive passages from Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Clive Barker, and others. But the amount of verbal skill required for a writer to take me to that place means that it's not as sure a thing as a well designed and directed film.
How about you, my blog monkeys? Are you fellow gorehounds, or do you eschew all things horrific? If you are a horror aficionado, are there any particular sub-genres (vampire, slasher, zombie, etc.) that you'd like me to discuss? Sound off below, and come back next Thursday for a look at another big Genre: Science Fiction.
*Well, maybe it matters a little if it's zombies -- zed-word burnout has diluted the Horror bonus quite a bit there -- will talk more about that in a sub-genre post at some point.
Modifier: Horror
Category: Genre
Type: Positive
Strength: High (Film, TV) Low (Literature, Comics)
When it comes to TV and Film, I'd hazard to say that the genre of Horror is one of my most consistently powerful positive Enjoyment Modifiers, regardless of subgenre; it doesn't matter if it's vampires, slasher, werewolves, demons, or zombies*, if it's a Horror movie then odds are good I'm going to enjoy it, even if just ironically. This love of Horror fiction stems from several aspects of my personality.
First, it appeals to the part of me that is drawn to the outre, the unique, the inventive, the out-of-this-world. I have a feeling this aspect of my personality is going to pop up a lot in these posts, as I've found that I'm willing to give much more leeway to anything that's a bit "out there" than I am a more "normal" film of the same general quality. So, anything with a supernatural theme already has my interest, and even the horror featuring regular human slashers usually gets a bump from featuring some original death sequences.
Second, it appeals to my darker side; I have a cynical streak which finds boundless optimism in fiction cloying and off-putting, but with the bulk of Horror films, even when the good guys win -- and with horror that is not even close to a given -- there's generally a fatalism that resonates with my own. This fascination with the darker side of things also applies to the bleak, dreary, and creepy atmospheres you often find in Horror flicks.
Third, even the less stellar examples of horror can provide for that need that many of us share: a need for mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum that allows us to turn off our brains for a bit and just enjoy ourselves. For many people action movies fill this role; for others, it's romantic comedies or procedurals. But for me, when I'm in the mood to just vegetate, I will always turn to a B-movie filled with slashers or giant animals wreaking havoc on Z-grade actors. This is probably why out of all the genres, Horror gets the biggest boost from the MST3K effect.
Please note: I'm not saying all Horror is mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum -- just that when it is, I'm more likely to enjoy it than other examples of mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum.
In regards to the printed page, however, the bonus is much lower. Part of that is due to the fact that I prefer to get my mindless, predictable, formulaic pablum in moving picture form, and not in typeset; the whole point of such entertainment is to turn your brain off for a bit and just vegetate, and I find it much more difficult to zone out while reading.
Another factor is that I am not a particularly visual thinker, and thus the perennial bit of wisdom about how the pictures in your imagination are better than anything that makes it onto the screen doesn't always hold water for me, particularly when it comes to conjuring up mental images of the dark and disturbing things that populate Horror fiction. Not that it can't happen; I've gotten completely creeped out by descriptive passages from Stephen King, H.P. Lovecraft, Clive Barker, and others. But the amount of verbal skill required for a writer to take me to that place means that it's not as sure a thing as a well designed and directed film.
How about you, my blog monkeys? Are you fellow gorehounds, or do you eschew all things horrific? If you are a horror aficionado, are there any particular sub-genres (vampire, slasher, zombie, etc.) that you'd like me to discuss? Sound off below, and come back next Thursday for a look at another big Genre: Science Fiction.
*Well, maybe it matters a little if it's zombies -- zed-word burnout has diluted the Horror bonus quite a bit there -- will talk more about that in a sub-genre post at some point.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The MST3K Effect, or "So Bad It's Good"
While the concept of Enjoyment Modifiers dwells upon specific components of works creating resonance or dissonance within the audience, it's important to remember that the modifiers still need a base to work off of -- a base composed of the overall quality of the craft put into the work: writing, acting, directing, editing, etc. Logically, the lower the quality of the work, then the more powerful the positive modifiers need to be to make the work enjoyable.
Unless, that is, you have a personality type which is susceptible to The MST3K Effect.
For those unfamiliar with it, MST3K stands for Mystery Science Theater 3000, the late lamented TV series based around a group of people endlessly mocking low quality films. While MST3K might not have invented the concept of deriving enjoyment through ridiculing B-movies, its popularity has made it one of the most recognizable examples of the idea that sub-par works can sometimes be enjoyed not despite their flaws, but because of them.
As I said, it takes a particular type of personality to derive pleasure from bad movies/TV/literature; as you are probably aware by now, I am possessed of just such a personality. There's just something about scenery chewing actors, dime-store quality special effects, and IQ sapping plot points that amuses the heck out of me.
Please note that there is definitely a difference between something being "bad" and something being "so bad it's good." There's a sweet spot of awfulness that a work has to hit in order for its lack of quality to move from painful to entertaining. For example, I recently watched both Leprechaun In the Hood and its sequel, Leprechaun: Back 2 the Hood, and while I found the former to be a laugh riot, the latter was a struggle to get through.
Also, that sweet spot can vary from person to person -- my "so bad it's good" flick can be another person's "terminally unwatchable," and vice versa; after hearing so much about the low budget Birdemic, I was eagerly looking forward to a roller coaster ride of entertaining awfulness, but was instead bored out of my mind for 2/3 of the film's running time.
Personally, that's a large factor of what separates a "bad" work (like Vampire$) from a "so bad it's good" work (Troll 2) -- the boredom factor. If there's nothing of even mild interest going on for huge stretches of time, then not even the occasional burst of mind-blowing crappiness can fully engage the MST3K effect. Let's face it -- there's a good reason why Mystery Science Theater 3000 would cut out huge sections of movies from episodes other than making time for commercial breaks and invention exchanges.
Genre can also play a factor on whether a bad movie attracts or repels; I have a weakness for shoddily done horror movies, and to a lesser extent bad Sci-Fi flicks, but it takes a special brand of awful to get me to sit through a poorly done drama or romantic comedy. I'll probably explore this more in my individual Enjoyment Modifiers posts when relevant.
Now, as you may have been able to tell from the examples I keep using, the MST3K effect mostly comes into play for me when it comes to film, and not so much in other media -- a bad horror movie is going to suck me in most every time, but a bad horror novel will get thrown down in disgust. But this, too can vary for different people. A prime example is Comics Alliance's Senior Batmanologist Chris Sims, who has gotten great mileage out of mocking several B-grade comic series; and while I have derived great pleasure from reading Sims' mockery of these books, I know that I would be unable to make it all the way through them on my own power.
Are you susceptible to the MST3K Effect? Or do all bad movies/books/etc. just leave a bad taste in your mouth?
Unless, that is, you have a personality type which is susceptible to The MST3K Effect.
For those unfamiliar with it, MST3K stands for Mystery Science Theater 3000, the late lamented TV series based around a group of people endlessly mocking low quality films. While MST3K might not have invented the concept of deriving enjoyment through ridiculing B-movies, its popularity has made it one of the most recognizable examples of the idea that sub-par works can sometimes be enjoyed not despite their flaws, but because of them.
As I said, it takes a particular type of personality to derive pleasure from bad movies/TV/literature; as you are probably aware by now, I am possessed of just such a personality. There's just something about scenery chewing actors, dime-store quality special effects, and IQ sapping plot points that amuses the heck out of me.
Please note that there is definitely a difference between something being "bad" and something being "so bad it's good." There's a sweet spot of awfulness that a work has to hit in order for its lack of quality to move from painful to entertaining. For example, I recently watched both Leprechaun In the Hood and its sequel, Leprechaun: Back 2 the Hood, and while I found the former to be a laugh riot, the latter was a struggle to get through.
Also, that sweet spot can vary from person to person -- my "so bad it's good" flick can be another person's "terminally unwatchable," and vice versa; after hearing so much about the low budget Birdemic, I was eagerly looking forward to a roller coaster ride of entertaining awfulness, but was instead bored out of my mind for 2/3 of the film's running time.
Personally, that's a large factor of what separates a "bad" work (like Vampire$) from a "so bad it's good" work (Troll 2) -- the boredom factor. If there's nothing of even mild interest going on for huge stretches of time, then not even the occasional burst of mind-blowing crappiness can fully engage the MST3K effect. Let's face it -- there's a good reason why Mystery Science Theater 3000 would cut out huge sections of movies from episodes other than making time for commercial breaks and invention exchanges.
Genre can also play a factor on whether a bad movie attracts or repels; I have a weakness for shoddily done horror movies, and to a lesser extent bad Sci-Fi flicks, but it takes a special brand of awful to get me to sit through a poorly done drama or romantic comedy. I'll probably explore this more in my individual Enjoyment Modifiers posts when relevant.
Now, as you may have been able to tell from the examples I keep using, the MST3K effect mostly comes into play for me when it comes to film, and not so much in other media -- a bad horror movie is going to suck me in most every time, but a bad horror novel will get thrown down in disgust. But this, too can vary for different people. A prime example is Comics Alliance's Senior Batmanologist Chris Sims, who has gotten great mileage out of mocking several B-grade comic series; and while I have derived great pleasure from reading Sims' mockery of these books, I know that I would be unable to make it all the way through them on my own power.
Are you susceptible to the MST3K Effect? Or do all bad movies/books/etc. just leave a bad taste in your mouth?
Labels:
Books,
Enjoyment Modifiers,
Movies,
Theory,
TV
Monday, August 1, 2011
Enjoyment Modifiers
When I first started this spin-off blog, I mentioned that I'd like to use it to explore some of my thoughts about different genres and concepts. Well, that exploration begins now with a series of posts about what I've taken to calling Enjoyment Modifiers.
So, what exactly are Enjoyment Modifiers? Well, when discussing the concept with my friend Bubblegum Tate*, he grokked the concept from the name itself : "I'm immediately thinking in RPG terms," he said. "+10% bonus if MODOK is in it." Which summed up the concept so well, that I had to include it.
On the most basic level, with questions of quality removed from the equation, they are the components of a work which effect how much we enjoy the work as a whole, either positively or negatively. Put another way: with a strong enough positive modifier attached to a work, you can power through an amazing amount of dreck, whereas with a strong negative modifier, not even Shakespearian levels of writing or acting can entice you to finish watching/reading.
The modifiers can be just about anything, from overall genre (Horror, Thriller, Comedy), sub-genre (Slasher, Caper, RomCom) to specific plot elements (Splitting Up In Dangerous Situations, One Of Us Is a Traitor, Split Up Over Misunderstanding) to character types (Cocky Jock, Fast-talking Grifter, Quirky Best Friend).
What makes it even more fun is the fact that the effects of these modifiers are different for different people, depending on our tastes and preferences. For example, while my father and I both find the overall genre of Science Fiction to be a Positive Enjoyment Modifier, the sub-genre of Alternate Timelines is positive for me, but negative for him, so I read/watch them like crazy while he avoids them if he can.
Having a good grasp of what constitutes an individual's personal Enjoyment Modifier profile is key to giving effective recommendations -- which might seem like a no-brainer, but after spending a lot of time on Twitter and in the Onion A.V. Club's** comment sections, I can guarantee that there are a lot of people out there who assume that all right-minded people share their tastes and any who don't are morons.
Anyway, owing to the large amounts of pop culture I ingest on a regular basis branding me as the go-to guy for many of my friends and family when it comes to movie/TV/book recommendations, I have tried to decipher as many of their Enjoyment Modifiers as I can. So, I know that Flunky is drawn to stories where a lowly commoner becomes a great hero and my parents don't like movies that glamorize thieves and Firestorm checks out when things get bloody and Shack-Fu loves kick-ass military movies and so on and so forth.
And of course, if I can better understand how my own Enjoyment Modifiers affect my reading/viewing experience, then it becomes easier for me to divorce my experience from my recommendations to a certain degree . . . or at least qualify them. "No, I didn't care for that film," I might say, "but that's largely due to Awkward Continual Lying For No Good Reason being an enormously negative Enjoyment Modifier for me." Or something like that.
Not that it's an exact science, by any means; the modifiers aren't always additive, and sometimes all the positive modifiers in the world can't save a work from one pervasive negative modifiers; there are some modifiers which vary from format to format; some modifiers are more conditional, with their positive effects being proportional to the quality of the work; and I'm sure there are lots of other exceptions and oddities that will pop up along the way. But in terms of trying to explain why this movie everyone else loves is something I loathe with a fiery passion ***, well, I think it's a pretty handy tool.
So, in the coming weeks, I'll be examining some of my more prominent Enjoyment Modifiers: trying to decipher why they affect me and giving some examples. It's highly likely this will fall into the "only interesting to me" category of posts****, but since when has that ever stopped me?
The plan is to have one of these post every Thursday afternoon. While we're waiting for my first official entry to post, please feel free to mention some of your own Enjoyment Modifiers in the comment section, and I'll be sure to add them to the list of things I'll talk about.
*A.K.A. soon-to-be-published novelist Joshua Unruh who has given me permission to name check him as much as I want as part of his new self-promotion initiative.
**Pretty sure that 99% of the AV Club commenters would list "quirky characters" as a -900000 modifier
***I'm looking at you, Meet the Parents
****Or, more accurately, interesting to me and Mr. Unruh, who was very intrigued by the concept and has been encouraging me to write the post so he can comment on it.
So, what exactly are Enjoyment Modifiers? Well, when discussing the concept with my friend Bubblegum Tate*, he grokked the concept from the name itself : "I'm immediately thinking in RPG terms," he said. "+10% bonus if MODOK is in it." Which summed up the concept so well, that I had to include it.
On the most basic level, with questions of quality removed from the equation, they are the components of a work which effect how much we enjoy the work as a whole, either positively or negatively. Put another way: with a strong enough positive modifier attached to a work, you can power through an amazing amount of dreck, whereas with a strong negative modifier, not even Shakespearian levels of writing or acting can entice you to finish watching/reading.
The modifiers can be just about anything, from overall genre (Horror, Thriller, Comedy), sub-genre (Slasher, Caper, RomCom) to specific plot elements (Splitting Up In Dangerous Situations, One Of Us Is a Traitor, Split Up Over Misunderstanding) to character types (Cocky Jock, Fast-talking Grifter, Quirky Best Friend).
What makes it even more fun is the fact that the effects of these modifiers are different for different people, depending on our tastes and preferences. For example, while my father and I both find the overall genre of Science Fiction to be a Positive Enjoyment Modifier, the sub-genre of Alternate Timelines is positive for me, but negative for him, so I read/watch them like crazy while he avoids them if he can.
Having a good grasp of what constitutes an individual's personal Enjoyment Modifier profile is key to giving effective recommendations -- which might seem like a no-brainer, but after spending a lot of time on Twitter and in the Onion A.V. Club's** comment sections, I can guarantee that there are a lot of people out there who assume that all right-minded people share their tastes and any who don't are morons.
Anyway, owing to the large amounts of pop culture I ingest on a regular basis branding me as the go-to guy for many of my friends and family when it comes to movie/TV/book recommendations, I have tried to decipher as many of their Enjoyment Modifiers as I can. So, I know that Flunky is drawn to stories where a lowly commoner becomes a great hero and my parents don't like movies that glamorize thieves and Firestorm checks out when things get bloody and Shack-Fu loves kick-ass military movies and so on and so forth.
And of course, if I can better understand how my own Enjoyment Modifiers affect my reading/viewing experience, then it becomes easier for me to divorce my experience from my recommendations to a certain degree . . . or at least qualify them. "No, I didn't care for that film," I might say, "but that's largely due to Awkward Continual Lying For No Good Reason being an enormously negative Enjoyment Modifier for me." Or something like that.
Not that it's an exact science, by any means; the modifiers aren't always additive, and sometimes all the positive modifiers in the world can't save a work from one pervasive negative modifiers; there are some modifiers which vary from format to format; some modifiers are more conditional, with their positive effects being proportional to the quality of the work; and I'm sure there are lots of other exceptions and oddities that will pop up along the way. But in terms of trying to explain why this movie everyone else loves is something I loathe with a fiery passion ***, well, I think it's a pretty handy tool.
So, in the coming weeks, I'll be examining some of my more prominent Enjoyment Modifiers: trying to decipher why they affect me and giving some examples. It's highly likely this will fall into the "only interesting to me" category of posts****, but since when has that ever stopped me?
The plan is to have one of these post every Thursday afternoon. While we're waiting for my first official entry to post, please feel free to mention some of your own Enjoyment Modifiers in the comment section, and I'll be sure to add them to the list of things I'll talk about.
*A.K.A. soon-to-be-published novelist Joshua Unruh who has given me permission to name check him as much as I want as part of his new self-promotion initiative.
**Pretty sure that 99% of the AV Club commenters would list "quirky characters" as a -900000 modifier
***I'm looking at you, Meet the Parents
****Or, more accurately, interesting to me and Mr. Unruh, who was very intrigued by the concept and has been encouraging me to write the post so he can comment on it.
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