#25 [2015/CBR7] "The Girl With All the Gifts" by M.R. Carey

Melanie is a very special girl. Dr Caldwell calls her "our little genius."

Every morning, Melanie waits in her cell to be collected for class. When they come for her, Sergeant keeps his gun pointing at her while two of his people strap her into the wheelchair. She thinks they don't like her. She jokes that she won't bite, but they don't laugh.

I can't remember what first led me to The Girl With All the Gifts (2014) by M.R. Carey, but the above blurb sucked me in, and I like to get out of my reading comfort zone every now and again with some less-read genres. Horror is something I usually avoid, so this was a good book for me.

What I didn't realize going in, is that this is a zombie book. The world is desperately fighting between the "hungries" and the uninfected in England. The story begins from Melanie's point of view, a little girl, and a very unique hungry. She is smart and curious and loves her teacher, Miss Justineau, more than anyone. The cast is rounded out with a battle-hardened Sergeant Parks, a results-oriented Doctor Caroline Caldwell, and the young, untested soldier.

The story moves in unexpected directions, staying suspenseful throughout. All of the main characters are three-dimensional and flawed. I could understand their motivations, and even though they were technically all on the same team, their conflicting goals kept tensions high and the story fascinating. This book was violent, unique, and disturbing but worth the read.

***SPOILERS***
The ethics of Dr. Caldwell using and torturing smart, hungry children to learn more and potentially find a cure for what's going on was fascinating and disturbing. Dr. Caldwell is heartless, almost to the point of crazy, but what if she were able to save thousands and millions of lives? What price is that worth? And how do we determine the value of lives that we deem less than human, whether they can feel pain or not?

The ending was also not what I expected and horrific in it's own way. On the one hand, Melanie turned out to be much worse than the humans feared, personally causing the end of the human race--a true horror. On the other hand, Melanie is smart and pragmatic. It was probably going to happen anyway. She was acting perfectly rationally from her perspective. Is it bad that the world is evolving? Only to those being left behind. And Miss Justineau will survive for the time being, but even as open-minded as she was in the classroom, this is not a world she wanted.

The only parts of the book that bothered me were when I felt that Carey had his characters do something beyond stupid in order to further the plot. I felt this the most strongly when Miss Justineau shot off the flare because she was worried about Melanie. Sure, it worked out all right in the end, but with the information she knew, some semblance of self preservation should have prevented her from doing it.

#55 (2013/CBR5) "World War Z" by Max Brooks

I'm not usually the kind of girl that picks up a lot of books about zombies, yet I have been surprised and delighted by the choices lately. First I read, Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion and then I found World War Z (2007) by Max Brooks. Sure, these two weren't too hard to miss--when a post a day was popping up on Cannonball and the Hollywood advertising machines were grinding away. But both were so unique and enjoyable in their own way, I almost feel like I've become a fan of the genre.

World War Z takes place directly after a 10-year war with zombies that began sometime in the near future. The world is recognizable and familiar as the one we live in now. The story is told through many short stories of the survivors. Their experiences are all harrowing but vary drastically. Because the zombie apocalypse is a world-wide problem, Brooks allows his book to have an international focus. The story starts in China, one of the solutions to the crisis has its origins in South Africa, and even though the United States plays an important role throughout the book, some countries that you wouldn't expect are highlighted.

What makes this book fascinating is Brooks' real knowledge of these countries and his mostly realistic take on their actions if something this drastic would actually occur. (There were a couple times I felt Brooks was taking things a little far to make a point, but it wasn't too often.) The wide scope of the story made the book feel like I was reading a real history. So, I was not too surprised when I looked up Brooks and found that he'd majored in history. I was also impressed by Brooks' ability to tie together a coherent narrative from the single voices and short stories of so many different characters. There were some short stories that were very powerful and effective just by themselves, yet Brooks was able to compile them into something more as well.

I've heard the movie isn't nearly as good as the book, but I'm still planning on watching it as soon as Netflix decides to give it to me. And I'd recommend this book--if there's anyone interested out there who hasn't read it yet.

There's one more thing that endeared this book to me: Brooks includes "The Battle of the Five Colleges" where some students in Southern California hold off the zombies for an inspiring and incredible amount of time. They make the stand at Scripps and celebrate at the bell tower at Pomona College. Now, I went to Pomona College, and it's a very good school, but also pretty small and not well known. I knew he must have gone to one of the five Claremont colleges if he was writing about them. As soon as I read that, I looked up Brooks and found out that he'd gone to Pitzer! (another one of the Claremont colleges).

#24 (2013/CBR5) "The Last Victim" by Karen Robards

I've read a lot of Karen Robards because she writes romantic suspense, and romantic suspense is some of my favorite escapist literature. Feeling the need for some escape, and seeing that Robard's latest book was available at the library with no wait, I decided it was time to read it. I've usually liked most of Robard's contemporary stuff. However, when I read the blurb, I felt some premonition of doubt. The heroine, Dr. Charlotte Stone (Charlie), could see and sometimes communicate with ghosts. I've never been a fan of mixing ghosts into my romance novels. The romance requires enough suspension of disbelief as it is, so when you throw ghosts into the mix, it's a little too much for me. But since Robards had been pretty grounded in the past, I hoped the ghosts bit would just be a small part of the story that I could mostly ignore. That turned out to be wishful thinking.

Charlie is 32 years old, a psychiatrist studying the minds of serial killers, and the only survivor of "The Boardwalk" serial killer who terrorized families and young teenage women sixteen years before. When the Boardwalk serial killer seemingly strikes again, FBI agent Tony Bartoli gets in touch with Charlie to help him find the killer before he kills anyone else. So far, the set up is practically a copy of most of the other books Robards has written,

***SPOILERS***
Part of me wants to give credit to Robards for (kind of) breaking out of her mold here because Charlie doesn't fall in love with the FBI agent. Instead she falls in love with the ghost of the serial killer she'd been working with right before he was stabbed and killed in prison (Michael Garland). You see, Charlie has the ability to sometimes see the souls of the recently, violently deceased for about a week after they die. It's like the ghosts have to figure out where they are and what has happened to them before they can pass on to wherever they are going. The ghosts usually attach to something they know or was near them at their death. Garland attaches himself to Charlie, and they start to grow on each other.

I almost could have accepted this story because Garland is incredibly hot for a ghost and actually quite nice for a convicted serial killer. But Robards doesn't give me any kind of closure, breaking all the rules of true romance novels. There is a sequel, and very possibly more than one. Sure, they found out who the killer was, but I never really cared about that. The killer is just there to put the heroine in enough danger that she needs the hero around to save her. Instead, Robards  keeps the question of how Charlie can be with the man she really cares about when he's dead--alive until the next book. And Tony Bartoli apparently hangs around to complete an annoying love triangle. I'm pretty sure the next book is going to be about how Garland is actually innocent of the serial killing bit because Charlie can like bad boys, but loving a serial killer would be pushing it a little too far--even if he is a ghost and can't hurt anyone anymore. To make up for the lack of closure, there was plenty of bloody killing, especially of teenage girls, which started to wear on me. The body count was pretty high and seemed to be never ending. In addition, the first bit of the next book was at the end of this one, and it starts out with a young woman running away from some guy trying to kill her. I don't know if I can handle any more of that just to see if the author is able to bring a dead guy back to life for her heroine.

#18 (2013/CBR5) "Warm Bodies" by Isaac Marion

Zombies aren't really my thing--either in books or in movies, but if something is good and creative, I'll wander outside of my favorite genres. I did enjoy Zombieland, after all. I'm pretty sure I first became aware of Warm Bodies (2011) by Isaac Marion through some Cannonball Reviews. They convinced me that the book was worth reading.

The world is falling apart, ravaged by the plague. Zombies (along with skeletal zombies) are running amok around the world. Civilization appears to be near an end. But there's a twist on this often-told tale. The story is told through the eyes of "R"--a zombie who lives among a den of other zombies at the abandoned airport. R cannot remember his name or what his life was like before he died. He has all kinds of thoughts and feelings, but he isn't able to express them. One day he goes on a "hunting' expedition and finds the beautiful Julie. Something makes him stop and he protects her, bringing her back to the airport. The story continues as Julie and R build a tentative truce, and then something of a relationship. R begins to communicate more and feel things he hasn't before. Something inside him is changing.

I really liked this one. It was well-written and original. The tone jumped between wry, black humor and the sad loneliness of isolation. I finished the book quickly, and I'm looking forward to seeing the movie. However, I did like the first part of the book better than the second half. The set up of R and his world, the unique tone and perspective were really entertaining--as were the first scenes with the interaction between R and Julie.

***SPOILERS***
I lost some connection to the book and its characters when R went too deep into dreams and half living Perry's life. The action was exciting. There was a love story and two groups pitted against each other in a kill or be killed situation. But then off it went into R's dreams and Perry's past--once right after R turned someone into a zombie right in the stadium! The shit was hitting the fan and R and Julie are wandering around Perry's old bedroom. I loved the scene where R runs into the stadium looking for Julie, but whenever the book went too far into his head, I started feeling lost.

I also needed a little more understanding of what was actually happening. I could accept that eating Perry's brain would give R flashbacks of Perry's life, but did Perry's spirit inhabit R? Is that what made R start changing? Why Perry? And if so, he was kind of thrown away at the end. Because I think R was already different. I like the idea that love and understanding can heal anything, but it was all so vague that I couldn't really buy it. And what exactly happened at the end? Julie and R turned into some kind of hybrid, live zombies? I'm glad it ended the way it did, but I was a little baffled by the process.
***END SPOILERS***

Definitely worth reading.

Redux #38 - "Frankenstein" by Mary Shelley

I am not a fan of horror by any means. The two horror movies that I've seen in the past ten years have been Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead, both of which are not exactly typical, but that's where my tastes lie. However, I am on a kick to read more women authors, and there is no denying that Mary Shelley has had some massive influence, with tons of movies and books being spawned from her creation. And what is even more impressive is that Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein (1818) when she was only eighteen.

Having never seen any of the Frankenstein movies, knowing only vaguely that the story involved bringing a monster to life, and knowing nothing about Mary Shelley's life, I learned a great deal just reading the introduction. First of all, I had always thought that Frankenstein was the name of the monster. In fact, Frankenstein is the name of the man who brings the monster to life. Once I finally figured that out, the introduction started making a lot more sense. Also, Mary Shelley led a rather fascinating and scandalous life. (I don't have the book anymore, and this recap is from memory, so please forgive any factual errors). Born to two radicals, her mother died shortly after her birth. Mary "eloped" with Percy Shelley, a married man when she was seventeen, and both Mary and Percy Shelley's wife continued to have his children until Percy Shelley's wife eventually killed herself. I think I wouldn't mind reading some kind of biography of Mary Shelley.

As far as the actual story of Frankenstein goes, I think it vacillates between being completely absurd and absolutely heartbreaking. The plot and the dialogue leave a lot to be desired. There are so many plot points that I felt were kind of ridiculous, it is difficult to even recount them all here. I have no problem with the idea that Frankenstein could make life, because you need that for the book, and Shelley was nice and vague about how it all worked. But when the monster is created, I found it difficult to believe that he would run immediately out into the woods instead of staying in the safe environment of his creation. The fact that he was entirely educated in less than a year by spying on a family I also find rather unrealistic. And then the monster figures out the story of his creation because he happened to have grabbed Frankenstein's diary as he ran out into the woods on the day he was created. So after wandering down towards Switzerland to find his maker, the monster happens to run into Frankenstein's brother, who he accidentally kills. The coincidences are just a little too much.

The dialogue was also overly romantic; all of the characters, even the monster, spoke with the exact same tone and language, which was always flowery and dramatic. Elizabeth, Frankenstein's love interest, was always utterly selfless and kind. She lived only to help those around her and besides being worried about them and being utterly loyal and loving, she didn't have much of a personality. It was also jarring that it was impossible to tell any difference between the speech of Frankenstein and his monster. These are two rather different characters with drastically different backgrounds.

However, the strength of the novel is in the tragedy of the story. I did think that Mary Shelley succeeded in conveying the loneliness, isolation, and despair that Frankenstein's monster felt, and by the end of the book I hated Frankenstein and his hypocritical, self-serving ways. Shelley's prescient warning about blind ambition for the power to make and create without thinking about the costs and effects was also very interesting and relevant. Although Frankenstein certainly is not the perfect novel, I learned a lot and I'm glad I read it.

Redux #20 - "The Graveyard Book" by Neil Gaiman

"It takes a graveyard to raise a child."

I picked up The Graveyard Book (2008) by Neil Gaiman because I wanted to actually participate in this month's Pajiba/Cannonball Book Club thingy (I forget its official name). My only experience with Gaiman's writing to date was Good Omens, which I enjoyed reading, so I wasn't averse to reading something else by him. I probably wouldn't have found The Graveyard Book by myself--besides being a children's novel, a boy growing up in a graveyard wouldn't have caught my attention. But I like to break out of my rut every now and then and I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone else has to say. My simple assessment is that I liked the book, but it wasn't spectacular for me. I appreciated the creativity, but I had some trouble connecting with the characters, and if I don't care about the characters the book won't make as strong an impression on me.

Warning: spoilers will most likely be sprinkled throughout the rest of this review.

It's probably easiest for me if I just go chapter by chapter here, as some of them really worked for me and others didn't do so much. I really enjoyed chapters 1 and 2. The baby crawling into the graveyard with the killer chasing him was good and creepy, and Bod's isolation and loneliness was no more apparent than when his new friend, Scarlett, left him at the end of chapter 2. Also, the moral lesson of not giving into your fear was portrayed well with young, little Bod standing up to the Sleer. I also enjoyed chapter 4, The Witch's Headstone, where Bod is introduced to the unconsecrated portion of the graveyard and gets a headstone for the witch, Liza. There were some good lessons on judging people and treating them well, which I appreciated. I especially liked Silas and Bod's conversation about suicide: a potentially controversial topic for kids' reading, but I felt that Gaiman handled it with sensitivity. The final chase scene also held a good amount of suspense, especially before the killer is revealed. The bittersweet triumph at the end when Scarlett runs away from him, mad and scared, was also not something you see in your typical children's book, and I appreciated the honesty of it.

The chapter that was the most moving was the final one, where Bod outgrows the graveyard, says goodbye to his adopted family and home, and strikes out on his own. I saw this as a pretty clear metaphor for growing up and gaining independence, and Gaiman hit it right on the head with Bod's reluctance to leave the safe life he's known and the people he loves, even as he yearns to experience life and the larger world.

The one thing that kept me from getting too attached to this book, however, was that everything that occurred felt so random, manufactured, and quick that I didn't have any time to get into the heart of the story or really get attached to any of the characters (except for, perhaps Scarlett). The chapters felt more like a series of connected short stories than a book. It jumped, with no explanatory support from hell and ghouls, to the dance of the dead, to bullies at school--all of which, I have to admit, I didn't get much out of. Random ghosts were popping up every page or so to never be seen again and I never got much of a sense of community in the graveyard or an understandable framework for this new, ghosty world.

Also, Silas was a character I was ready to really care about, but I knew so little about him that he was never more than a shadow. When I read the chapter on the dance of the dead, I knew that I should feel sorry for Silas because he was all alone, neither living nor dead, but it wasn't working. Finally, when Silas and his group go down into that deep cave to kill some more Jacks, it wasn't clear what was happening, what he was doing, or why I should care. Gaiman quickly kills off a random character we'd never seen before and even Lupescu's death is kind of glossed over. What is the point of introducing and offing a character in the same page? At that point I was much more interested in Bod and what was happening above ground. I guess I can sum all my problems up with the idea that I never lost myself and forgot I was reading a novel. The jumping around and lack of understanding of how the world works just kept reminding me that it wasn't real. That being said, I really enjoyed some parts of it and look forward to the discussion.

Reading The Graveyard Book has inspired me to read its inspiration, The Jungle Book. I'm interested to see if reading The Jungle Book somehow changes or enlightens my opinion of this work. The review will hopefully be coming soon.

#78 - "Club Dead" by Charlaine Harris

I'm ready to give up on Sookie Stackhouse after reading (actually, listening to the book-on-cd) Club Dead (2003), the third book in the series by Charlaine Harris. Sure, I'm kind of curious to see what happens, but not enough to get through seven (?) more books. I guess it didn't help that I just watched the first couple episodes of "True Blood." I didn't dislike the show, but besides wondering who's going to sleep with whom and some eye candy, there's not much to it.

And that's how I feel about the books, too. The first book drew me into Sookie's world. I liked exploring the ramifications of dating as a mindreader and the unique world of the vampires that Harris created. I also liked the infiltration of the anti-vampire church in the second book, and Sookie can kick ass sometimes and is fun to read about. But I've consistently been weirded out by the sex in these novels. And it's not that I don't like reading about sex, but the way Harris throws all kinds of disturbing sexual violence into a cotton candy story and then has Sookie hypocritically disdaining all those "slutty vampire hangers-on" when she's hooking up with every supernatural creature she runs into, rubs me the wrong way.

In Club Dead, Sookie's boyfriend Vampire Bill goes missing with his old vampire girlfriend in Mississippi, and Vampire Eric (who also has the hots for Sookie) sets Sookie up to go find him with the help of Alcide. Alcide is a werewolf who owes Eric a favor. Needless to say, Alcide quickly falls for Sookie as well. While her cheating boyfriend is being tortured, Sookie does what she does best, which is getting hit on at vampire bars while trying to read people's minds. One of my problems with these books is that there's not much to any of these mysteries. Bill disappears and Sookie reads one person's mind to find out that he's being tortured while Eric singlehandedly searches the entire city of Jackson and figures out the only place Bill could be kept confined. There's not much to it. And (SPOILER!) once Bill is freed, he quickly makes a deal with whoever initially wanted his information, which makes you wonder why they ever captured and tortured him in the first place.

When Sookie was in high school, she and a friend of hers did a dance for the talent show. They were "so innocent" in high school that they didn't understand that all the promiscuous and suggestive dance moves they picked up from MTV could be inappropriate. When Sookie arrives at the vampire bar in Jackson, Mississippi, she runs into her old high school friend and they do their high school talent show dance for the bar(?). I was ready to forgive this, but it epitomizes all of my problems with this book. If Sookie wants to go to a bar and dance for everyone a la Paris Hilton, then she should own up to her own sexuality and do it. Instead it's always, "I was so innocent. My friend pulled me on to the dance floor. I had no idea what I was doing." And why is her high school friend in Jackson, Mississippi? And why would Sookie want to attract attention to herself when someone's already tried to kill her and she's trying to find her missing boyfriend?

And later in the book, boyfriend Vampire Bill almost kills Sookie and then he rapes her. Sure, the explanation is that he's a vampire and he'd been tortured and starved for a week, but how is this okay? I was uncomfortable in the first book when Sookie goes to find Bill after his friends have been killed. Sookie says that Bill was so mad she was afraid he was going to kill her so she distracted him with sex, but the scene in Club Dead was much more unequivocal. In addition, most of the people who are killed in Harris's books are sexual deviants. The first book has a man killing women who have sex with vampires and the second book has some mythological creature (acting almost like a vengeful god) who goes to an orgy and kills all the lustful drunks. I thought these books were easy to read and sometimes fun and entertaining, but the combination of fake innocence, sexual violence, and judgments about sex have turned me off of the series.

#63 "Eclipse" by Stephenie Meyer

With Eclipse (2007) by Stephenie Meyer out of the way, I am now three quarters of the way done with her vampire series. And my opinion is still about the same. The writing isn't great, but it has a way of sucking you in, and it ends up being a quick, easy, and entertaining book to read. The worst thing about the series so far has been the first half of Twilight. It seems to get better as it goes, and I'm actually looking forward to reading the last book. I don't even understand all the venemous hatred focused on this series. I guess it's just the backlash for being more popular than it probably deserves, but there are a lot worse things out there. Bella isn't even a bad role model. Meyer always seems to tie in some classic literature to her plot, using Jane Austen, Shakespeare, or Wuthering Heights somehow. That's something. And even though Bella is significantly weaker than her vampire and werewolf friends, she is pretty independent and makes her own decisions. My opinion on this may change when I read the last book, but so far, I really have no reason to be offended. Of course, you just have to accept, pretty much without reason, that Edward and Bella are in love. I think it helps if you just imagine that it's some kind of thing that can happen with vampires.

The plot of this novel is very much a continuation of the last book. Edward and Bella are still in love. Bella wants to become a vampire, but she also gets more nervous about it as the time to change comes closer. Bella is still caught in what is an apparently classic love triangle between human, vampire, and werewolf. And Bella is still in danger: Victoria is still trying to avenge her lover's death by killing Bella, and the ruling vampires in Italy are still intent on Bella becoming a vampire.

I have a guess of where this last novel is going, but I might be completely wrong. I feel like all three books have been building up to something with nothing ever really changing, so I am going to be disappointed if Meyer doesn't come up with some kind of satisfying conclusion.

#57 - "New Moon" by Stephenie Meyer

Now that I've read New Moon (2006), I'm halfway through Stephenie Meyer's teenage vampire romance series, and I have to say I found it a quick and entertaining read. Not only did I like New Moon better than Twilight (this might be only because I accidentally read the entire plot of Twilight on Wikipedia before I even picked up the book, which lessened the suspense some), but at least right now--being two books in on each series--I like the Twilight series better than Charlaine Harris's vampire series.

I don't have too much to say about New Moon. I realize that it's a pretty superficial work, riding along on it's tween wish fulfillment and the question of how Bella Swan will come out in the end. And sure, it's a little long in places, and you just have to accept some iffy plot lines and character developments, but it doesn't annoy me enough to harbor any animosity towards the writer or the characters. As long as I don't go in expecting some great literature, I can be fully entertained in a guilty pleasure sort of way.

The main characters have managed a surprising lack of development in the five hundred pages of New Moon and they are in much the same position they were in at the end of Twilight. The story mainly revolves around Jacob's life and Bella and Jacob's closer friendship; probably because there wouldn't be much to write about if Edward were around the entire book. Sure the noose is tightening around the characters--forcing Bella towards the choice of becoming a vampire, but she's far from becoming undead any time soon. I'm pretty much reading these books to find out what happens in the end, so I'll be disappointed if Meyer somehow avoids these confrontations that she's been forecasting.

#53 - "Living Dead In Dallas" by Charlaine Harris

Living Dead In Dallas (2002) by Charlaine Harris is the second novel in the Sookie Stackhouse vampire series. I think there might be six or seven total? So far? Anyway, I thought Dead Until Dark was kind of fun and once I start anything, I like to finish it--unless it's absolutely horrible, so I grabbed the second novel.

Sookie Stackhouse, the young, uneducated, mind-reading, southern waitress is still in a relationship with her vampire boyfriend Bill Compton. And pretty much every man and vampire who comes into contact with her is still lusting after her. The regional leader vampire, Eric, sends Sookie and Bill down to Dallas where Sookie uses her mind-reading abilities to help find a missing vampire in the area.

This book was much like the first in the series, a fun and quick read. Sookie is a generally spunky and likable character and the plot moved along quickly enough. I guess I still have some reservations about these books, though. There is so much sexual violence throughout the book and it only seems to serve the purpose of titillation. I'm kind of curious what will happen to Sookie Stackhouse in the long run, but I can't help but feel kind of dirty after reading these novels. And not because I mind reading about sex in novels--if there's a point to it; but I feel like the vampires are just an excuse for different sexual fantasies and then there's some more violent sex thrown in for good measure, and that's the whole basis for the book. I'm always rather averse to authors throwing in some rape to show how protective a man is towards his woman. And I don't know anything about the author, but I get the feeling she's basing Sookie Stackhouse on the kind of woman she would like to be, which I also find kind of disturbing. Oh well, I'll probably eventually read the rest of the series and then I might have a better idea of what's bothering me.

#26 - "I am Legend" by Richard Matheson

I recently watched Will Smith’s version of I am Legend, which made me curious enough about the original story to consider expanding my reading to the horror genre. Whether movies or books, horror is probably my least favorite. The only horror movie I’ve seen in the last five years was Shaun of the Dead, and I’m not even sure if that one counts. But I’ve been reading so many books lately, it’s a good excuse to branch out and read some things I wouldn’t otherwise.

Like most of my reading material, I picked up I am Legend at the library. Fortunately the copy I found had I am Legend as well as ten other short stories written by Richard Matheson. This was fortunate because I am Legend has only 170 pages, and even though I don’t mind flouting the reading contest rules when appropriate, I don’t want to do it for every book I read. So, the ten other short stories added another 150 pages to the book, making it more than adequate in length.

I’ll start with the title story and reason for reading this book in the first place, I am Legend (1954). Robert Neville is alone in the world, having survived an epidemic that swept the earth, killing people and turning them into vampire creatures. The creatures cannot stand the sun and go into a coma-like state during the day, but at night they come and attack his embattled house. Robert Neville’s life consists of the monotonous tasks of daily survival, constant loneliness and despair, killing as many vampires and diseased individuals as he can, as well as learning as much as possible about what’s happened to everyone.

Despite my general aversion to horror stories, I enjoyed reading I am Legend. Neville’s daily survival is interesting, and Matheson slowly leaks out information about Neville, his past, his present, and the specifics about the vampires so that the book often reads like a mystery. I also liked comparing the book and the movie. The movie changed the location to NYC, changed the cause of the disease, and changed some of the aspects of the disease for story purposes. Most of these changes, I think, made for a better movie. Seeing Robert Neville tearing through a deserted and lonely Times Square is much more visually captivating—horrific C.G. deer notwithstanding—than seeing him wander around a nondescript suburb. The movie also captured Neville’s loneliness and solitude quite well, managing to have the same feeling of the book, without being tied down to all the particulars. The main difference between the two is the ending. The book’s ending fits the story perfectly and ironically, making the entire story meaningful and more memorable, but the movie strays too far from the book for its last chapter and suffers by comparison. And I say this after also having seen the alternate end on DVD. Of course, now that I’ve seen both, I’m having a hard time remembering which was the “original” movie ending, but I prefer to selectively remember only the first 2/3 of the movie anyway.

I was not as impressed by the ten other short stories included in this book. The problem might again have been the genre, but I did not find them nearly as absorbing or thoughtful as the main story. I guess they were all generally well-written and the characters were often interesting enough that they weren’t painful to read about, but I was glad when I finally finished. Merely throwing in the undead or talking about funerals doesn’t do anything for me. Only one story even kind of scared me, and I think that’s because it was about a young, single woman who was attacked in her apartment—even though she was attacked by a miniature doll, so even then I wasn’t that scared.

One other issue I had with Matheson’s writing was the way he wrote about women, which I’m sure was partly a product of the times when he wrote. The 1950’s weren’t exactly a banner year for women’s issues. In the book I am Legend, Robert Neville states when he finally meets another human—a woman—that he would have “violated” her if it had been a couple years earlier because, y’know, men have needs. I tried to imagine Will Smith raping the woman he meets up with in the movie because he’s horny, and it didn’t work. Perhaps this is just a sign that men have improved in the last 50 years, or at least the men I know.

Matheson’s most annoying take on women is in his short story entitled From Shadowed Places where a rich, playboy has a curse put on him by a Zulu witch doctor while he is trophy hunting in Africa. Fortunately his fiance has an old friend from school who spent some time in Africa, learning under a witch doctor, and knows how to deal with these things. The playboy is wary because she is black and a woman but doesn’t have much of a choice. Fortunately she is a busty, black woman and she saves him by dancing around naked in front of him with his fiance and father-in-law watching, and then having sex with him and drawing the demon into herself. I sometimes felt as if I were reading the script to a really bad porno movie. Besides the fact that there didn’t seem to be anything more to this story than Matheson’s weird sex fantasy, I was also bothered by the fact that he persistently defined the women in the story as feeling shamed. The woman who saved his life felt “shamed” when she walked into the room topless. And then later in the story his fiance felt “shamed,” perhaps because she felt she shouldn’t have resisted when she watched her friend have sex with her husband-to-be. I didn’t appreciate the constant connection between women’s sexuality and shame, and I’m sure it didn’t help that I didn’t particularly like most of his short stories.