I grow tired of the assessment that "the book was
better than the film." My fatigue comes in part from the fact that I
usually agree with the sentiment; there is little surprise to me that a
90-minute visual adaptation of a five-hundred-page novel will be thinner and
more shallow. But I also tire of the underlying assumption that works written
may be usefully compared to works filmed.
Words on the page require a different kind of translation or
imagination than images and voice in the theater. When our brains decode the
complex array of characters on the page, and when our minds assign power and
meaning to the decrypted results, we are in a different world than that of
sight and sound.
A text is, by nature, more flexible and demands a certain
work from the reader. When we have done this work, the results will vary by the
individual and will likely be infused with a broader flavor and significance
mined from the reader's experience. This happens, too, with film, but in my experience less so. When we read, we must climb full-body into another world.
I experienced this diversity of media pointedly when I first
watched the film The Hunger Games,
then read the book. The film (my full review is here) kept me on the edge of my
seat. It depicted with expert precision a world of stark contrasts, grave
injustice, and desperate tension. I watched Katniss Everdeen navigate the
horrendous choices implicit in the challenge of teenage mortal combat.
This last bit is key: I watched
Katniss Everdeen.
Collins' trilogy about Panem is narrated in the first
person. The reader receives only Katniss' perspective. The fullness
of her adolescence is thereby revealed; the horror of her situation is also
thereby clearer than the film can make it. To read The Hunger Games is to do more than watch our heroine succeed and
fail. To read it is to be Katniss
Everdeen, to feel genuinely caught in a world which squeezes bitter from sweet.
When I watched the film, I felt the tension of being hunted.
I felt the fear of being caught. I felt the shock of watching adolescents
slain. But I did not feel hunger.
To read The Hunger
Games is to feel hunger. The words printed on the page can conjure what
goes on inside the soul when the stomach gnaws at itself. They can wither the spirit
with the fatigue of which cinematography only hears rumors. They can draw the
whole person into a world.
It is different than watching a film.
More could be said about the differences between flashbacks
on the screen and single-sentence memories brought up in a written scene. Or
about metaphors which cannot be literalized for the camera ("He looked
like a dog that had been whipped").
I will not tell you that the books are better than the film
(and, I'm confident soon in this case, films). To compare them is to compare apples and
oranges—or perhaps better, apples and apple pie: something essentially the same
in each, but ultimately a different experience. If we like apples, we eat
apples. If we enjoy apple pie, we will eat apple pie. And if we like both—well,
then we may have the best of both worlds.
~ emrys
1 comment:
Both art forms beg their predecessor, the storyteller. The writer is the heir to oral tradition. The film maker heir to the painter.
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