Here it is: the latest movie that will serve as an opportunity for thousands of people to say that their childhood has been raped. I hate that phrase, not just because of its trivialization of actual rape (though, obviously), but because it reeks of hyperbole and the desire to “sound interesting” (an impulse I myself have to fight on a daily basis – I often lose). The adaptation of your favorite piece of media from childhood – whether it be a book, a comic, a toy – into a poor film should not detract from your enjoyment of those memories. If you let it alter your past experiences, well you are know worse than those in The Giver who choose to live in ignorance of the past. Memories are essential to the human condition, and that is just one of the ideas that screenwriters Michael Mitnick and Robert B. Weide carry over into their version of Lois Lowry’s hit young adult novel. The movie is a faithful transfer in general, actually, and that might be one of the reasons why it just isn’t a very good movie.
How have we possibly gone 229 days without a book review? Throughout primary and secondary school, I was a voracious reader. Then in college I fell off, as reading became more of a chore. Once I was living in the real world (and riding on real public transportation), books became a big part of my life once again. But now I’m just another LA driver, too self-absorbed to crack a book. While that’s not exactly true (I’ve been slowly working my way through House of Leaves), my rate of consumption has dropped dramatically (I’ve been slowly working my way through House of Leaves… for the last year). Maybe all that is about to change though, because I now present for your pleasure a review of Lois Lowry’s classic, The Giver. No, not the movie. The book.