First and foremost: the novel is absolutely, horrifically nightmare-inducing. I couldn't read it within an hour or two of going to bed because I was too scared of what my dreams might turn into; I already have a vivid imagination, so I didn't need whatever severed limbs and still-hungry torsos that had been crawling around the novel coming after me in my sleep, thank you. I have to say that I did love that sensation though. It's been a long time since I read a good, scary novel that made me afraid to close my eyes.
Along those lines, I do want to see the movie. I'm sure it'll be terrifying -- I plan to watch it in my living room, in the middle of a sunny afternoon, possibly with a blanket over my face. But I do still want to watch it. I had to read the book first, of course, and now I've heard that the people who made the movie kinda went, "the hell with the book!" and did whatever they wanted -- hence the fast zombies and the storyline and all that new stuff. I'm sure it's rated R, and it's probably supposed to be the highest R rating there can be before it goes over; the violence is unbelievable and never-ending, the gore is insane, and like I said before, the terror level is sheer nightmare fodder. But still. I want to see the movie.
As a fan of zombie-horror, I love that Max Brooks doesn't even try to explain the science behind his zombies. He of course takes the subject extremely seriously (more on that later), but he never once goes into the question of how, exactly, the zombies came back to life and remained functional and all those other poorly answered questions that pervade zombie lore. Instead, he just ignores it -- which makes everything fantastically simple. So much of what bogs down zombie movies and books is the science of what happened: it's really a rage virus that keeps their adrenaline pumping which keeps their legs moving, or as long as they still have a brain stem, the electrical charge keeps their muscles moving and their senses looking for brains, or some other theory that falls apart at the slightest, often non-scientific probing that even an English major like me can offer.
I get it. There are lots of possibilities -- 28 Days Later has zombies who can run; Left for Dead has zombies that puke (Boomers), zombies with super long tongues (Smokers), ambush zombies (Hunters), etc.; Resident Evil has the rage virus (at least at the beginning). I don't need yet another one, and thankfully Brooks didn't seem interested in providing one. Instead, he just ignores it, doesn't even gloss over it with any kind of "no one knows" speculation, nothing. It's as if none of the characters in his novel ever gave it a second thought -- which makes sense, given how fast the epidemic spread and how all-consuming it was. I should note that my husband, a zombie aficionado, was absolutely thrilled to hear that this novel didn't even try to explain it; apparently even super-nerds get sick of all the possibilities and bogus science.
However, despite my admiration of Brooks' handling of the science, I did find his attitude toward the topic itself a little strange. And here's why: Brooks treats this novel and its events as if they are 100% true, as if this is guaranteed to be the future of our world.
I realize this is an odd complaint -- the novel is fiction, of course, and all good novels treat their topics as real because otherwise the story just won't work. But there is something about the tone of this book, something so serious and real and terrifying that I just have to point it out. There is not a shred of information to suggest that this story is made up, and frankly, if you didn't know better, you might actually think it could be true. (Brooks' other book, The Zombie Survival Guide, is just like this as well -- complete with multiple accounts of zombie attacks throughout history.) I find myself wondering what inspires that kind of attitude toward your work -- is this Brooks' desire to make this story feel real? Is he trying to build hype? I have no idea, but I find it both awesome and unsettling.
This novel also highlights how Americans are viewed worldwide, a perspective I both enjoyed and found extremely disheartening. Since the novel is a conglomeration of stories from people around the world, there are many stories that aren't from an American perspective; in fact, the majority are not. This style makes the most sense for this story: we as readers get a truly global perspective about what was happening at the same time around the world. And since it recounts a worldwide epidemic that affected parts of the globe very differently, the style brings the novel to life much more effectively than any other narration style could. A doctor recounts his experiences with Patient Zero. A government official describes the only plan that works to keep zombies out of his country. A soldier relives how she escaped from the Louisiana bayou. A woman tells of her harrowing escape through an about-to-be-blown-up Himalayan mountain pass. And there are dozens more -- some storytellers repeat, some are one-time additions to the tale.
Yet almost every time someone else talks about Americans, they are described as cocky, rude, high-minded, jingoistic assholes. Frankly, this bothers me. I mean, I get it: the worldwide opinion of Americans is not necessarily high and it varies a lot depending on where in the world one goes. Americans are not good at censoring themselves, nor are they good at being humble about their own or their country's accomplishments. But the way we come across is in the novel is so horrific, so rude and "boy we rock, everyone else sucks," so self-obsessed, that I had to step back to say to myself, "my god, is THIS how we actually come across??" I was horrified.
By the end of the novel, this attitude has changed a little -- for example, the American president is the first government official to suggest going on the offensive against the zombies to take back his country, a move that is heralded by others in the novel as bold and incredibly dangerous but not as stupid. For the first time in the novel, others recognize the guts of the Americans, a quality that has been admirable since day one. So it's not all bad, but it does leave me concerned: is this the legacy that current American culture and politics are leaving the future?
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| All the stills from this movie are really cool -- I like the posters and the moments captured as advertisements for the film. It seems accurate to what was happening in my mind, even though I know the movie isn't even close to the book. |
All I can do is work toward leaving behind my own positive legacy, one that is worthy of my being lucky enough to be born an American, with all the opportunities and privileges and responsibilities that come along with it. Other than that, I don't have much influence over the legacy of America as a whole.
I'll update with a less sappy end to this post once I see the movie :)
