My Memorial Day Recommendation

It's a holiday and I don't feel like writing a review. I recommend this one! I always felt it was one of my best, but not that many people have read it.

MA 5.27.13

Lunar: Silver Star Story Complete - Game Arts (Video Game)

It was probably 2001, maybe 2000, when I got a phone call from my buddy Joe. He was calling to let me know that "The Game Peddler", the used video game store his older brother worked at, had a copy of Lunar: Silver Star Story Complete for just $35. I had been on the prowl for this PlayStation traditional RPG for a long time, and Joe knew it. I had been to every game store I knew of and all over eBay with no luck. I'm pretty sure I asked my mom to give me a ride to the mall ASAP, and I bought it, in effect becoming bankrupt of money and wealthy in soul. This was a remake of the Sega CD classic, Lunar: Silver Star Story. The remake was done by the original company, Game Arts, and was true in every way to the original.

Fully animated anime-style cut scenes, rich voice-acting sequences, and bright new sprites now punctuated the excellent story, creating what was, at that time in my life, a transcendent gaming experience. With the iOS version now available for seven bucks, I've started playing the game again. I am delighted to report the beauty and simplicity I saw in the game as a youth was not simply a lack of understanding what "quality" meant. (I mean, have you actually watched an episode of Tiny Toons in the last five years?) For RPG fans, this is a "classic" in the highest sense. The story is basically what you'd expect, yet somehow told so artfully as to never be dull.

From the iOS version, which is a direct port of the PS version.

In our present landscape of multi-path storytelling in games, it can be nice to return to a time when a game only had one masterful story to tell, a story which saw no need to be "adult" in order to be interesting. The soundtrack, the characterization, the battles and story--all of these harken back to a different time, now passed. I don't mind that video games have evolved. I finished the Mass Effect series recently and was enthralled by it, but Lunar holds a very special place in my heart. It is a tale of youth, triumph, danger, and excitement. Yes, it can be cheesy at times, but that's kind of the point. It always kind of bothered me that everybody knew about the Final Fantasy series but not Lunar. I recommend it whole-heatedly to the gamers of the world as a way to remember our roots, and in appreciation of its artistry. If you grew up without Lunar in your gaming life, I still recommend it. Pretend you are thirteen again and feel the power! The power--of LUNAR!

Now, if only they would do the same with Lunar 2.

-MA 5.20.13

Note: It is nice that this is available on iOS, but unfortunately the company that originally did the excellent translation work, Working Designs, is now defunct. Not having access to the rights to WD material, some other company redid the voice-acting and retranslated the game. I'm grateful that someone did it, but the work isn't nearly as good. But I guess you can't win 'em all!

Shardik - Adams (Novel)

I know, I know. I already did a novel recently, and these are by far my least popular posts, but come on people! Boox Я gud 4 U! I realize that a lot of the time we (as human-type people) just want to veg out, watch a movie or a TV show that doesn't ask a lot of us, or even just search the web for memes or interesting threads. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, within reason, but there's also a time and a place to put some effort into art. This is not something only books or poetry require, there are works which ask a lot of the "art intaker" in every medium, but for me I find myself "grinding" through a book more often than a movie or a TV show.

The book in review today is one I have been wanting to do for a while, but for whatever reason haven't gotten around to: Shardik, by Richard Adams. There and two things that embarrass me when it comes to this book: 1) Yet again, this is a work I know of only because of Mr. King's recommendation, as a "version" of Shardik himself appears in the third Dark Tower novel. 2) It took me more than four months to read this book. I share that with you not because I like publicly shaming myself, although that is not to say that I don't, but because in my life this is the quintessential example of something I really had to force myself to finish, but afterward appreciated more than most of the titles I read. I am a religious person, and this is a religious book. That is not at all to say a non-religious (or even non-spiritual) person would not get much out of it, for it is expertly crafted, but there is special significance to those of us who want to live a religiously moral life, but sometimes find it difficult to do so.

As I see it, the entire book is an allegory exploring what it is like to live a Christian life. Technically it is a fantasy epic, but it's pretty light on the fantasy aspect. Virtually nothing which is beyond the realm of accepted reality occurs within its pages, once you get past the twenty-something-foot tall bear, Shardik. As per my usual, I'm not going to delve much into the plot, as that is something people should discover on their own, but I will say the story involves the discovery of Shardik, a bear which is believed to be a physical representation of God on earth by the villagers nearby. The protagonist of the story, Kelderek, has a special connection with the bear, and is conflicted about how to handle that.

He is told by a holy woman that God expects him to follow Shardik. The "following" is quite literal. She explains that the young man is to walk behind Shardik wherever the bear goes, and in His own time and way, God will reveal the greatest mysteries of the soul to Kelderek. But the holy woman is not the only person with vested interest in the young man's connection to the bear. The village leaders explain that Shardik must be a gift from God to be used as a powerful weapon of war, so that the village can retake its rightful place as the true authority of the land. Though he respects the holy woman a great deal, Kelderek does not understand how following the bear could bring forth the blessings she promises. War, however, is something he understands.

The story goes on from there for quite some time, but I'm not going to divulge anything more of the plot. I think it is sufficient to say that this allegory is beautiful to me. We all have our plans, our human understanding, but God sees above all of this. He has an understanding which puts ours on par with that of an infant, or an embryo, even. I often reflect now on how much better it is to "follow the bear" than to simply do what my impulses tell me, to rely entirely on my pitiful understanding. What looks like a straight line to us does not to God, and his paths often seem bizarre. I have found in my own life it is only in looking back do I see that what He wanted, what the Spirit revealed to me, was actually the "straight" line, the path that got me somewhere of worth.

The book is also packed with action, incredible ideas, and excellent writing. It is an epic, so expect some real work in getting through the walls of description and stage-setting, but the payoff is big. Really big.

I think I may have been hesitant to write this review because I have seen more and more that religious morality is not an acceptable factor to many professional reviewers. Reviewers are expected to not allow God to influence how they feel about a work, but I think that's rubbish. My pursuit to be closer to God is a part of my life, a part of who I am. It has to be a factor. I would never discount the worth of a review on the basis that its writer did not believe in God, and I hope the worth of my review in the reader's mind will not be devalued for the inverse reason, even if the reader does not share my feelings on the matter.

-MA 5.13.2013

At the Center of the World - Bright Eyes (Song)

In high school, I was really close with one of my English teachers, Ms. Bishop. I never took a creative writing class from her, but I learned more about the creative process talking to her than from all other high school teachers combined. We had similar tastes in music and poetry, and we would often discuss what made art good or bad and how to emulate that. I remember with some clarity an exchange about song structure that I have reflected on many times over the years. I was explaining to her how, as a song-writer myself, I was interested in song structures that deviated from the common "A B A B C B B" format. She warned me that she had heard hundreds of "Lillith Fair" types performing at open mic nights or in coffee shops and how often their music lacked a "center." She said something to the effect of, "I know they think their poems are really good, and they want to just sing it all out in an unbroken line, but really, can't we just have a chorus?"

I didn't say anything at the time, but I was almost offended by how much this opinion differed from my own. Back then anything that didn't have a chorus got five automatic bonus points in my mind simply on the basis that it was "unique." I'm older now, and I understand there really isn't anything all that unique about eschewing a chorus. I'm sure she didn't mean that a song without a chorus couldn't be good, what she was probably saying was that they aberrated out of laziness or an adolescent desire to be different, not because it actually made their songs any better.

There is a reason so many songs have refrains of some kind or another: it works. It resonates with people. I understand now that if you're going to strike off down a different, less common, path, you've got to sell it. There needs to be a reason. Or, at the very least, it needs to be done with skill.

This brings us to today's review: At the Center of the World, a song which has long been one of my favorites by emo/folk/whatever band, Bright Eyes. At the Center of the World, as you may have guessed, has no chorus or refrain of any kind. It is completely linear, without even remaining emotionally constant. What makes this song work is its flow. The unusual structure of the song is only a vehicle for the art, as opposed to being the artistic statement itself. If I had not mentioned that it lacked a chorus, it is likely you would not have even noticed. I certainly didn't until hearing the song a number of times. It is as if it could not be told correctly in any other way.

The lyrics are mystic, the message unclear. I have listened to this song probably more than a thousand times, but still--when I focus on it as I listen--I am drawn in. There is something irresistible in the feeling of this song which, ironically, has no center. A story is told which ranges from the scope of a society to the personal. As listeners, we don't say, "Man, this song is so cool 'cuz it doesn't have one of those repeat-y things," we say, "Man, this song really hits me emotionally. It sticks with me." This song helped me to better understand when to break the pattern, namely, when your piece demands it.

-MA 5.6.13

Here is a YouTube video, but it's much better to listen on Spotify or simply buy the song, because this is pretty low quality audio. Be sure to read along as you listen, the lyrics are most excellent.

 

Don't talk to me about Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

This was the first video to pop up on YouTube.

At the center of the world, there's a statue of a girl.
She is standing near a well with a bucket bare and dry.
I went and looked her in the eyes, and she turned me into sand.
This clumsy form that I despise...it scattered easy in her hand.  

And came to rest upon a beach with a million others there.
We sat and waited for the sea to stretch out so that we could disappear.
Into the endlessness of blue. Into the horror of the truth.
You see, we are far less than we knew. Yeah, we are far less than we knew.
 
But we knew what we could taste. 
Girls found honey to drench our hands.
Men cut marble to mark our graves. 

Said we'll need something to remind us of all the sweetness that has passed through us.
The priests dressed children for a choir but found no joy in what was sung.
The funeral had begun.

In the middle of the day, when you drive home to your place
From that job that makes you sleep, back to the thoughts that keep you awake  
Long after night has come to claim any life that still remains 
In the corner of the frame that you put around her face.
 
Two pills just weren't enough.
The alarm clock's going off,
But you're not waking up.
This isn't happening, happening, happening, happening, happening. 
It is.

-Oberst