The Globe and Mail man (whose name I was obviously too distracted to catch) insightfully notes the benefits of both reading the book and watching the book's film adaptation (and here my ambiguous "the" refers not only to Martin's series, but to works of literature in general). Now for an English major like myself, who worships the literary above all else, reading the book is usually a given. Sure, sometimes I see the movie first: at which point my interest in the story is sparked enough to persuade me to pick up the original source. Then there are the movies that I absolutely refuse to watch until I have read the book for which they are named (The Divergent series, The Book Thief, Anna Karenina...the film version of which is potentially doomed never to be seen by me because of the simple fact that Russians tend to write really long, complex novels that a born-again grad student cannot always get through on her "free time").
I am not delusional enough to think that my literary obsession is universal. Rather, I have heard many a high school student say "I'll just rent the movie" in regards to that week's reading assignment. I continue to feel now, as I did then, that those students are doing themselves a real disservice in skipping over the print words of the author for that which is usually a visual, unequal paraphrase of great work. But the Globe and Mail's relatively unique commentary on this seemingly exhausted debate makes me think that even my unquestionable siding with books may not be the best method available to get the most out of a literary idea.
I suppose the first thing to consider in the "movies are second hand" opinion is the amazing developments in technology that have come to pass in the last few decades. Movie makers can create images and scenes, that could only have been imagined many years ago, through the help of CGI and lots of other cool Avatar-esque additions to the world of cinematography. The alien invasions, city destruction and global wars that authors imagine are now capable of being brought to life in a way that closely mirrors our concept of reality: a significant step up from the default gun-goes-pew-pew attempts at action of other technology-deficient eras. These advancements have achieved wonders in making a book's film adaptation highly compatible and competitive with the original work, as what we imagine when reading the words is more likely than ever to appear on the silver screen, just as we imagined it.
The wonderful world of technology is one point the Globe and Mail makes in favour of "watching the movie". On the flip side of the coin, the G&M video insists that reading the book is what creates the most authentic impression of the settings and the characters, and the best medium by which the audience can truly understand and get a sense of the story. The movie is then the perfect compatriot for allowing one to see the visualization of the words on the page. And no, the silver screen is not always going to get it right, especially since the beauty of reading is that each person is allowed to imagine whatever they want. But seeing the movie in conjunction with reading the book does allow one to formulate that individual "mind movie" before comparing it against Hollywood's version. At the very least, the movie can be a guide on "what not to do", but on the more pleasant occasions, film adaptations of literature can ignite a surprising "hey I never thought of that" that never would have been acknowledged had one only read the book and never seen the movie.
At the same time, those who insist on only seeing the movie and not reading the book are left wanting, especially in the case of first person narratives. Consider Katniss in The Hunger Games, or, for the sake of continuity, any of the main characters in A Song if Ice and Fire. Their first person narratives are limitless, streams of consciousness about their impressions of other characters and the scenes going on around them, that the third person lens of the movie camera simply cannot capture. Reading a character's own account of their circumstances lends to an understanding behind their motives for the actions we see them perform on screen. The novel, in this case, is the "soul" while the movie is the "body", and while Descartes might have argued them to be separate entities, both are vital to the overall make-up of a great work (person...plot...whatever). So I ask you not to consider book vs. movie, movie vs. book but instead allow the two to exist in harmony with equal audienceship: Bovie Mook.
There are certain stories whose film adaptations (I would argue) make an excellent complement to the written work and together, the two embody the completeness of an interior and exterior whole. Here's a short list of some of my favourites:
LOTR
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A prime example of how the magic of technology can transform green screens into the vast plains of Middle Earth, and how Andy Cerkis attached to tiny censors becomes the creepy yet beloved Gollum. While Tolkien is an "every blade of grass" kind of writer, the movies make a gallant and magnificent attempt to capture the meticulous details of his mythological realm. But it's pretty much impossible to make sense of every race and family line without reading the series.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Harry Potter
Like the LOTR series, JK's magical world has been brought to the larger screen in amazing ways with the help of modern cinematology. But her character creations we have all come to know and love embody the Globe and Mail's point that one cannot truly understand characters by viewing them only externally. Rowling's descriptions so lovingly placed on every page form well rounded, substantial and relatable teenagers who are made all the more so by a peek into their reasoning the Harry Potter books provide. Watching them cast spells in the theatre just doesn't produce the same effect.
12 Years a Slave
Admittedly, Steve McQueen does a fantastic job of capturing the spirit and essence of Solomon Northup's experience of tragedy and resilience. And while I found myself sobbing in the theatre upon actually seeing the horrors the book describes come to life in front of me, the movie itself could not compare to Northup's personal and primary expressive recount of his terrible experiences in captivity.
Baz Lurman's Romeo and Juliet
An odd favourite, yes, but I do love all the colours and that Desiree song playing during the fish tank scene is killer. As a loyal Shakespearean I maintain that no, nothing will beat Will's original work (flawed though it may be). But Baz Lurman's film interpretation catapults the age old story into a modern realm for the 20th century teens of now (or then...since it was released in the mid 1990s). From Romeo taking E to Mercutio dressed in drag, Lurman adds trim, tassle and humour to a play studied too seriously when really, there is much absurdity in the storyline that is often overlooked and not embraced. (Hey, even Shakespeare wasn't perfect)
Have suggestions of your own? We would love you to share them with us!
Gotta Book (or should I say Mook?) It,
JEM
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