Book Review: Oryx and Crake (by Margaret Atwood)

More like Bore-yx and Crake.
Before I get started, I'd like to mention that I flip flopped between "Bore-yx and Crake" and "Snore-yx and Crake". I also wanted to title it "Bore-yx and Crappy", but a friend pointed out that "Crake" rhymes with "cake", not "crack-e".



When I asked for a book recommendation, a friend of mine brought up "Oryx and Crake", a novel released in 2004 by renowned Canadian author Margaret Atwood. I had never read an Atwood novel (not even in high school), so I decided to take a chance. A few other people I know have mentioned how good it was, and it was short-listed for the Man Booker Prize. The book seemed to be bursting at the seams with credentials and accolades.

The premise sounded interesting enough; a drifter drifts alone in a dystopian world after his friend's attempt at molding a utopian society went to shit. What was once the world we now know has become a desolate wasteland, and the drifter, unfortunately, survived the armageddon. His name is Snowman, but he used to be called Jimmy. Ever since that fateful event, the man has dubbed himself "Snowman." Why "Snowman"? What significance does a snowman hold in this man's life that has caused him to alter his ego around it? Did he enjoy snowballing with girls in the past? We'll find out.

I'm no author, but whether you're writing a paragraph, novel, dissertation, or essay, the structure goes as follows: introduction, body, conclusion. Notice how the introduction comprises only 1/3 of the overall structure, not 9/10.

I can't even say that the plot moves at a snail's pace, it simply doesn't move. Things finally begin to pick up around the last little bit, by which time readers may have tuned out (I've stopped books before just because they were utterly bad). In the end, I finished the book, and though I can honestly say I'm glad I did, the payoff in the end wasn't worth sitting through 250 pages of introduction and set-up. The only reason I'm glad to have finished it is to say "I've read an Atwood novel." If her other books are as boring as this one, this is an accomplishment I'm boasting for the wrong reasons. I'm likening it to a medal of survival instead of a literary status symbol.

Now, some comments on small parts of the story....(minor spoilers coming up).....

What is the deal with Crake and Jimmy watching porn? Jimmy speaks fondly of when he and his childhood buddy would watch internet porn, together, in the comfort of his bedroom. Jimmy doesn't go into further detail, and he admits that the porn videos eventually got boring. Despite the increasing boredom, the two managed to make the time pass, together....there's something unsettling about two heterosexual teenaged guys enjoying their sausages together, without the buns.


A computer simulation of Jimmy and Crake's teenaged years.

Finally, I will also never come to understand Jimmy's fascination with Oryx. Yes, she is beautiful, but what a fucking tease. "Oh Jimmy, why do you keep asking me that?" "Oh Jimmy, why do you always want to know that?" Maybe if you gave him a straight answer he'd stop asking.

(end spoilers)

You do eventually find out why Jimmy renamed himself Snowman. After the world went to shit, he just picked it. Neither snowmen, nor snowballing, held any significance in life. I don't even think winter was ever a major setting in the story. He could've fashioned a name that paid homage to his forgotten lover Oryx, or his beloved pet from childhood (for whom he still weeps), but no, he goes for the most insignificant, inert nickname possible...Snowman. That climax is more non-existent than a faked orgasm.

If you're a big Atwood fan, I suppose you'd like this book. If that's the case, you've probably already read it. So for the rest of you, stay clear and read something else. There are better ways to pass the time; like watching internet porn with a close friend.

Mad World

If you watch any television, you may have seen a commercial advertising a new video game titled "Gears of War." The story of the game is typical of many other action games; an alien race has come to earth to wipe out the human race for some unknown reason. The game itself, although very familiar, has enough new gameplay elements to make it fairly unique amongst the hordes of action-shooter games out there.

But what is it about Gears of War that has my attention? The commercial. It's absolutely beautiful.



It doesn't capture the feel of the game at all. The game is non-stop, pulse-pounding action without the dramatic spin. But I don't know...I love this commercial. And I may get a bit poetic and deep about it....

I love how the main character is forced to run for his life while he's pondering the remants of yesterday's world. Franticaly running through the ruined city, he desperately searches for a place to hide. And when he thinks he's safe, he sees the very trouble he tried to escape from, waiting for him, staring him down. Realizing escape is no optin, the main character, overwhelmed, and possibly frightened, braces himself and stands his ground. And as the lights of valour pulse the room, the trouble bears down on him, snuffing out his last ditch effort to live (I'm of the opinion that the main character dies in the end).

I think it's so beautiful that the advertisement sidesteps the hard punk rock music that is normally associated with these genres of entertainment.

Here's the actual music video if you wanted to hear the whole song...it's called "Mad World" by Gary Jules (this is a cover, by the way).

A message from Moby...

A friend of mine sent me this letter, written by Moby (of "Porcelain" fame). Both men and women should read it.

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suppose you were redecorating your house. and you wanted your house to be a quintessential minimal mid-century modern
house. and you had a friend who only liked victorian houses, filled with velvet drapes and thick carpets and over-stuffed couches and lots of ornamentation. this same friend also had repeatedly said that they had no interest in ever living in a mid-century modern house. would you ask them for their opinion about decorating your mid-century house? obvious answer: no. because they don't like mid-century furniture and aesthetics and they only like victorian aesthetics. pretty simple, right? why consider the opinion of someone who has no interest in the aesthetic that you're going for? right? ok, that was the analogy.

so, i ask you, why do women listen to the aesthetic opinions of gay fashion designers don't get me wrong: i love gay fashion designers. i'm just dismayed that there are hundreds of millions of women currently starving themselves and beating themselves up because
they don't have a body that's deemed 'attractive' by men who aren't attracted to women. gay fashion designers(and editors, photographers, stylists, etc)are sexually attracted to men. which is great and should be applauded. but they're not sexually or physically attracted to women, which does kind of make their opinions about female bodies kind of moot. is it any wonder that these same designers/etc tend to like female models who have very boy-ish bodies?

to make an anthropomorphic generalization: male bodies: angular. female bodies: curvy. most female fashion models are angular, which is a quality normally associated with male bodies. women are supposed to be curvy. it's what makes a woman's body feminine.
can you imagine how absurd it would be if women designed clothes for men and expected men to have breasts and hips? wouldn't it be absurd if hundreds of millions of men were staring into mirrors and berating themselves for not looking more like women? ok, so isn't it then absurd that hundreds of millions of women are staring into mirrors and berating themselves for not looking more like young men? it's unnecessary and unhealthy.

and yes, obesity is bad. that goes without saying. but when perfectly healthy, normal women beat themselves up for being 'too fat' it's not only absurd, but emotionally and physically unhealthy. women are not supposed to look like emaciated 14 year old boys. they're just not. i'm not trying to pick a fight with the fashion industry, i'm just saying that endlessly promoting an ideal of beauty wherein women are supposed to look like emaciated 14 year old boys is absurd and destructive and creates tons of unnecessary anguish for the hundreds of millions of women who are healthy and don't look like emaciated 14 year old boys.

to use me as an example. i'm a vegan. i don't like meat. so if you were having a sausage and cheese party would you ask me for my opinion on what sort of sausage and cheese you should serve? of course not. my hope is that somehow women will allow themselves to be who they are, and stop beating themselves up for not looking like emaciated 14 year old boys. as i said, it's absurd and deeply unhealthy.
thanks,
moby
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"You work it....GIRL???"

Contrast position

It's been well over a month since I've posted something meaningful. My one month practicum has come and gone at Brother Andre Catholic High School. So what have I learned about my future profession during my one month there?

I've learned that teaching is a job of contrasts. It will suck the life out of you, but can reinvigorate you a hundred times over. For every bad day, there are several good days. For every time a student mouths off to you, the student can surprise you in pleasant ways. The class that drove me up the wall the first couple of weeks with bad behaviour became the group that I got attached to.

Am I glad that practicum is over? Yes, I'm tired. Sleeping around 1am-ish preparing lessons, getting up at 6:30am, and expending a lot of energy keeping students in check is quite taxing. Do I look forward to doing this as a career? Absolutely.

Random tip of the day

When jumping off a bridge into a lake, clench your bum so water doesn't rush up your anus. (from the novel "Oryx and Crake", by Margaret Atwood).

Or just take a donkey punch on impact. Same thing.

Four Cornered

The other day, I learned about a teaching strategy referred to as “Four Corners”. It works best with philosophical/abstract questions (e.g. political sciences) rather than concrete lessons (e.g. biology and math). The teacher poses a question and in each corner of the room are four responses. The students, when prompted, go to the corner that best describes their feelings towards the question/topic. The reason for their decision is discussed as a group, and a representative presents the concensus to the entire class.

To demonstrate this, the prof asked us “What do you think of love?” Corner 1: Love is like a wild rollercoaster on a brisk summer evening. Corner 2: Love is a random phenomenon, a game of dice. Corner 3: Love is like a tidal wave that engulfs you. Corner 4: Love is like a slow-burning candle, spreading its warmth around you. The prof said go, and all 60 students in the class began to move. The entire class spread out pretty evenly amongst corners 1, 3, and 4...with the exception of two students; a guy named Henry, and myself.


The ultimate symbol of love.

When the dust had settled, everybody looked to our corner and had a good laugh. Given the disparity in numbers, the prof decided to talk to us last. Henry isn't an open talker, so I agreed to do the class discussion for our "group".

Prof: "...SO.....you two...why did you pick that corner?"
Me: "Well, Henry and I are both heartless so we can't understand all that symbolism you provided in the other corners."

But Henry and I did discuss that love happening for two people is very often dictated by circumstances beyond one's control. It's not that we are heartless and cold-hearted; on the contrary - I love romantic-comedies, I enjoy a good love story, and was moved to tears when I saw my friends' get married. Thinking of how happy my loved ones are with their partners brings a smile to my face, and I wholeheartedly cheer them on when they're dreaming of the object of their affection.

This has nothing to do with bitterness toward relationships or women. It is just my feeling that, if you love somebody, external circumstances which are completely out of the realm of your control, can prevent it from ever happening.

Even worse, the other person may not reciprocate! Is that up to you to decide? No; you may as well be rolling a dice.

Rise, Lord Mayer

I was on John Mayer's website the other day. Yes, I admit that I like his songs, giving others an oppurtunity to question my sexuality and my balls. Anyway, to promote his new album, the following banner is placed at the top of the homepage.



I saw the picture, and as the image registered in my mind, I did a double-take. "He looks like someone.", I thought. Not more than a second later did it hit me.



John Mayer, the artist behind several love ballads that have swooned women the world over, resembles the modern day film icon of corruption and betrayal - Anakin Skywalker. I wholeheartedly expect John to go all out and snap on this newly released album. Instead of singing about beautiful women, and making love to their wonderland bodies, he'll discuss the intricacies of bitches, hos, and doggy style.


John Mayer may go loco anytime now.

If the visual similarities aren't enough to convince you, ask yourself this; when did Anakin Skywalker go from virtuous to villainous? Third movie. This record John has recently released; what number is it in his growing discography? Third. Coincidence? Highly unlikely.

Rise, Lord Mayer. RISE.