1. Stop reading whatever you reading now. Keep it aside. Leave it for now. Because the Book of the Year has arrived. Breathtaking in scope, flawless in execution, and brimming with lyrical passion, Under the Udala Trees is a masterpiece.

    Those who know me know that one of my all-time favorite writers is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. She writes of a Nigerian soul in words that I wish I can conjure myself. If I ever meet her, I know I would be reduced to a quacking duck, unable to express the awe and respect her writing inspires me. Now, I have just finished reading Chinelo Okparanta, and I know that I would also be a quaking duck in her presence. Under the Udala Trees is at once a look at Nigeria, starting from the Biafran War that tore the country apart in the 1960s, and also at heart a deep story of love and yearning. It's about the relationships that define and the choices we make. It's moving. It's human. It's filled with emotion. I can't remember a sentence that was out of place. Or even a word that didn't belong. It's simply a story. A beautiful story complex with love, life, and the inexorable passage of time. One that will stay with you long after you finish the last page. 

     Am I extolling this book too much? No! I feel I traveled to Nigeria, sat on the branches of the udala trees, and savored yam, while seeing luscious guava trees in front of my house. If words were pictures, then Okparanta has weaved an entire cinematic experience. How many books can do that to me? Considering that the previous book before I picked this one up was Margaret Atwood's The Heart Goes Last, Okparanta outshined one of the greatest writers of this century. What's the story, you may ask? Think Civil War. Think Despair. Death. Love. Life. All the scavengers of hope that war brings with it. Think young Ijeoma and her mother trying to resurrect life from the embers of the war. Symbolic that Ijeoma means "journey" in Igbo. On her journey through life, Ijeoma is left behind while her mother tries to return to her parent's house to rebuild their future. Staying with the unnamed "grammar school teacher and his wife," Ijeoma takes the first tentative steps to love. And falls in love with a girl. In deeply conservative Nigeria, which is the second-most religious country in the world, that is a crime. Death by stoning, even. The story then follows her as Ijeoma grapples with her feelings and her often chaotic relationship with her Bible-toting mother. Religious themes are often interspersed in their arguments.
     
    "E’li, E’li, la’ma sab ach tha’ni? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Ijeoma asks at one point in despair. And as I read through the novel at 1AM on a Sunday night, despite knowing that work awaits me tomorrow, I knew that I wanted to know the answer. Does the answer lie in Ijeoma's surrender to society by marrying a "good decent man?" Will her choice, however logical it may be, define her life? That's the journey that the book invites you to take. I haven't traveled to a better place this year. 

     Verdict: Masterpiece. 

     Rating: 5/5
    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: Africa Commonwealth Literature feminism Fiction Soul_Muser's Top 100 Books to Live For women's writing
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  2. I read a graphic novel after what seems like ages. I think the last one I read was, strangely enough, Craig Thompson’s“Habibi.” I say strangely because am reviewing one of his earlier graphic novels named “Blankets,” in today’s post. As always, first a summary of the book below, partially from GoodReads:

    Wrapped in the landscape of a blustery Wisconsin winter, Blankets explores the sibling rivalry of two brothers growing up in the isolated country, and the budding romance of two coming-of-age lovers. A tale of security and discovery, of playfulness and tragedy, of a fall from grace and the origins of faith. Blankets is an autobiographical account of Thompson’s childhood, and teen years. It chronicles his dreams, thoughts, beliefs, and relationships till the time he reaches adulthood. It was voted as one of TIME Magazine’s top 100 Best Young Adult Books of All Time in 2012.

    I had forgotten the joys of reading a nice graphic novel. To me, a good one combines ease of reading with a good pace, and a good story. Thompson’s novel has all of this and more, making it an arresting page-turner. Beginning with his childhood in snowy, windblown Wisconsin, where he lives with his parents and little brother, Thompson takes us through different stages in his life, and the various relationships that surround him. Right at the beginning, we learn that his family is devout Christian, and has instilled in him a deep faith in the concepts of heaven, hell, and sin. Thompson portrays himself as a vulnerable, quiet, and shy individual who is torn between his own thoughts, and the ones that he grows up with. He also has a strong sense of guilt and wrongdoing, which surfaces time to time, for even the smallest of things. 

    “I’m sorry, God, for sneaking out of the cabin and lying and not reading the Bible and not witnessing to people and picking on my little brother and calling someone “ASS” and drawing a lady without any clothes on that one time and disappointing my parents and everything else.” 

    All normal things that boys do but Craig is wrought with guilt.

    After a while he meets Raina at church camp. Their feelings of alienation, and that of being “different” are mutual, and they are quickly drawn to each other. A flurry of correspondences later, Craig gets to stay with Raina for a few weeks. Within the space of those weeks, Craig and Raina grow incredibly close. They develop feelings for each other, experience the blush of first love, and all the sweet, adorable things that follow. But it’s not long before they drift apart. Life after that moves fast as Craig leaves his home, and goes to university.

    “Blankets” is all about relationships. Ones with the people who stay around all our lives, and the ones that are non-existent but nevertheless exist with their absence. In the first category goes siblings, friends, parents, first loves, and above all, with oneself. In the second category goes acquaintances, friends we separated from, lovers we parted with, and bullies we hated, to name some. All of these people contributed in some way to make us what we are. Craig is close enough to his parents, but he is closest to his younger brother. Like all siblings, they fight, but deeply care for each other. They drift apart in the middle but easily spark up their connection when they share some quality moments after a long time. During the time Craig stays with Raina, we see her love and care for her siblings. While she is willing to take care of her elder sister’s baby anytime, she also attends to every need of her adopted brother and sister, both of whom are mentally ill. But what I loved was how Craig develops a deeper connect with himself through the book. All through, he goes by the teaching of the Bible, which is so ingrained in him. But as he grows up, he realizes that his beliefs are different, and he begins to question the things around him. Towards the end, Craig is freed from himself. I thought this gradual transformation was marvelously done.

    Families are tight knit, and very Christian, in Thompson’s novel. Although Raina’s parents are going through a divorce her father is confident that he is only “living in a one bedroom apartment... temporarily.”  

    Maybe it’s this closeness that Thompson wishes to convey through the imagery of blankets. It is a recurring theme, in the book, signifying the complex threads that knit people together. The book opens with Craig and Phil sharing a bed as kids, and fighting for the blanket. Raina gifts Craig a quilt, and the snow forms an all-encompassing blanket at all times. 

    And, of course, the illustrations. Rich. Beautiful. Expressive. Blankets has sketches that speak more than words. Many pages have such exquisite detail, not unlike “Habibi,” that it requires a second reading to notice all of it. Sample some of these:



    “Blankets” is not a graphic novel that you can get your arms around the first time. Revisit it. For the poetry of the artwork, and the fluency of unsaid words.

    Verdict: Beautiful


    Rating: 4.8/5


    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: America Birdy's Pick favorites graphic novel
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  3. I think even a million dollars would not persuade me to be in David Lagercrantz's shoes. It takes guts to write. It takes even more guts to write a sequel to some enduring bestsellers. If Stieg Larsson's partner Eva Gabrielsson is to be believed, the book is just a copycat that is trying very hard to cash in on the fame of the Millenium Trilogy. Greed is what she would have called it. As it is Eva says that she would not read the book. "I read original writers, not people who copy other people's books, so to say. So I won't read it." For those who have been following the saga closely, Eva has been locked in a settlement dispute over the Larsson estate. And she has been especially critical of David Lagercrantz, something that the author himself is aware of.

    Who is David Lagercrantz? He is best known in Sweden for having written Zlatan Ibrahimović's biography Í Am Zlatan'. I had read all of Stieg Larsson's Millenium series, despite me not usually falling to hype. I still haven't read any of the Grey books, in case you are thinking I have fallen for that hype too. But like most readers, I came back with one character etched in my mind - Lisbeth Salander. The cocky, brimming-with-attitude girl with a strong moral core and a terrible sensitivity to injustice. Who can forget her? We need characters like her. It's no surprise then that Lagercrantz aims to build on that character. Heck, the book is called a Lisbeth Salander novel!

    In keeping with the Millenium trilogy, The Girl In The Spider's Web has all the usual trappings of drama. But with a twist. We are invited into the 21st century world of industrial espionage and high level hacking. The NSA and Sapo are in action again. We have a peek into the world that awaits us in the future called Artificial Intelligence. We also have the same thread of violence against women. And we have Lisbeth somehow doing what she does best - swooping in when there are bullets and punching, kicking, and shooting her way through. Did I mention that Mikael Blomkvist exists? He does. But here the focus is all Lisbeth. Blomkvist is the sideshow here. The journalist who is in the right place at the wrong time. I am not sure what he really does in the novel apart from that, but by then you don't care. You know who you are rooting for. Like the good old Marvel comics, we need our superhero. Lisbeth is one.

    So, should you read this book? I would say, why not? It moves fast. I finished it in a day. There are a number of quirky characters introduced. August, an autistic savant, is by the next best character after Lisbeth in the book. The plot does not sag even though I was kind of wondering if artificial intelligence is worth all the killing and mayhem. I wished there was a bit more of a relationship set with Lisbeth. She doesn't seem to exist to talk to anyone except August and his mother in one classic speech. You know the ending is predictable. There is no great build-up. No whodunits. You know who the killer is. The rest of the book is just tracking them down. You won't waste your time. And while it is no Stieg Larrson, not even Lagercrantz, I am sure wants it to be so. This is a very good Lagercrantz novel with an iconic heroine. For that alone, I read it.

    Rating: 3/5
    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: Crime Fiction
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  4. In the past few months, if there has been one book that has been unequivocally talked about, torn apart and compared, it’s “Go Set a Watchman” by Harper Lee. I was curious. I finally managed to read it. Here is a brief summary, an extract from the Harper Collins website, before I go into the review:

    Maycomb, Alabama. Twenty-six-year-old Jean Louise Finch—"Scout"—returns home from New York City to visit her aging father, Atticus. Set against the backdrop of the civil rights tensions and political turmoil that were transforming the South, Jean Louise's homecoming turns bittersweet when she learns disturbing truths about her close-knit family, the town, and the people dearest to her. Memories from her childhood flood back, and her values and assumptions are thrown into doubt. Featuring many of the iconic characters from To Kill a Mockingbird, Go Set a Watchman perfectly captures a young woman, and a world, in painful yet necessary transition out of the illusions of the past—a journey that can only be guided by one's own conscience.

    Almost all the reviews I have read have compared this book to Lee’s award winning book, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” Although inevitable and irresistible, I find this unfair. Harper Lee wrote these two books at two different points in her life and I feel each book deserves to be seen in its own light before going into comparisons. Luckily for me, I read “To Kill…” a long time ago and I deliberately did not refresh my memory prior to reading “…Watchman.” 

    When I began reading “Go Set a Watchman.” I was reminded of Kathryn Stockett’s “The Help.” Just like the young protagonist in Stockett’s book, we have Jean Louise coming to her father’s place for a two week break from New York. But the comparison ends there. We don’t know what Jean Louise does in New York nor do we have her mentioning any place or person from the city. Her mind is filled with memories of Maycomb and the slow realization that the town has changed from what she knew of it during her childhood. 

    In only two days, events that happen cause her to feel a sense of loss – 

    “Why is it that everything I have ever loved on this earth has gone away from me in two days’ time?”

    When Calpurnia’s grandson runs over Mr. Healy in his car, Atticus is ready to take on the case. This is where we first get a hint of Atticus’ underlying motives for supporting blacks. He wants to prevent the case from falling into the “wrong hands,” by which he means coloured lawyers. He justifies by saying that the black lawyers who are in the state wait for a crime committed by a black man against the whites, and then “they demand Negroes on the juries in such cases. They subpoena the jury commissioners, they ask the judge to step down, they raise every legal trick in their books…” 

    This apart, Jean Louise discovers there’s more to Atticus in the coming days when she attends a City Council meeting. She is so shocked by what she sees there that she feels physically sick. What follows is heated arguments with Atticus and his brother Dr Finch, who tries to make her understand that living in Maycomb requires certain attitudinal adjustments. 

    Jean Louise’s argument with Atticus reveals shades to the aging lawyer that weren’t apparent before. Atticus was the demi-god, someone who was,

    “…unique in the history of the county; no machines opposed Atticus Finch, no machines supported him, and no one ran against him.”

    He was always right, just and different. Until now. In this book, we see an Atticus who is human, has the same approach to society as many of us, and is trying to create a balance between his innate sense of justice and his place in society. But in reaching this balance, he makes statements that paint him as a racist, like, 

    “Do you want your children going to a school that’s been dragged down to accommodate Negro children?”

    and

    “What would happen if all the Negroes in the South were suddenly given full civil rights?”


    But is he really? If we see what he says in the same breath, I would not jump to conclusions–

    “Would you want your state governments run by people who don’t know how to run ‘em? ... Zeebo’d probably be Mayor of Maycomb. Would you want someone of Zeebo’s capability to handle the town’s money?”


    Isn’t there a grain of truth in what he is pointing out? In India, we have politicians who haven’t even graduated and who come from poor, agricultural families. Yet, they have rights and they are definitely part of the society as it should be. But do they have the capability to run the government? I wouldn’t think so. It’s again, a vicious circle. Because they were in rural areas, they did not receive much education and they were never considered part of mainstream society. But now they have more opportunities, and they want to exploit them. Similarly, the blacks are now in a position to command and they are making use of it. It’s a fine line. People like Atticus will help them individually but will work with the system for the greater good of the society. Just like the unique neutrality of his character, he is neither for nor against them. 

    Emotionally charged reminiscences form a large part of the book along with heated political debates, and the ending fizzles out with the largely vague discussion between Jean Louise and Dr Finch. In the end, we are made to understand that Jean Louise has come round to understanding the situation, and has gained a certain level of maturity. Atticus is her role model again and all’s right with the world. 

    I would read the book once. It might not have the power to merit multiple readings like Lee’s previous book but it does have more depth in some of its discussions. Let me be like Atticus, though. I am neither disappointed nor enamoured by “Go Set a Watchman.”

    Verdict: Definitely worth a read


    Rating: 3.4/5

    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: America best-sellers Fiction
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  5. Missed Versedays last week. So easy to get caught up with life and forget these little pleasures. So I spent some more time this week searching for good poetry and stumbled upon the genre of Australian bush poetry. Stemming from oral traditions in the vast Australian bushland, this genre gained prominence with the advent of colonisation. Highlighting the origins of the Australian people and importance of the bushland in this aspect, bush poetry today is recognised officially and even boasts of the Australian Bush Poets Association.

    For today's poem, I chose "Sydney and the Bush" by one of the most acclaimed bush poets, Les Murray. In my limited understanding, the poem addresses the effects of colonisation and the subsequent loss of character of the nation. I found a really nice reading of the poem by Renee and thought that would be more helpful to you in understanding the poem better. Enjoy reading!

    Sydney And The Bush

    by Les Murray

    When Sydney and the Bush first met
    there was no open ground
    and men and girls, in chains and not,
    all made an urgent sound.

    Then convicts bled and warders bred,
    the Bush went back and back,
    the men of Fire and of Earth
    became White men and Black.

    When Sydney ordered lavish books
    and warmed her feet with coal
    the Bush came skylarking to town
    and gave poor folk a soul.

    Then bushmen sank and factories rose
    and warders set the tone —
    the Bush in quarter-acre blocks
    helped families hold their own.

    When Sydney and the Bush meet now
    there is antipathy
    and fashionable suburbs float
    at night, far out to sea.

    When Sydney rules without the Bush
    she is a warders' shop
    with heavy dancing overhead
    the music will not stop

    and when the drummers want a laugh
    Australians are sent up.
    When Sydney and the Bush meet now
    there is no common ground.


    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: Australia Commonwealth Literature Poems Versedays
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  6. Image courtesy: Hesperus Press



    I picked up “The Peculiar Life of a Lonely Postman” by Denis Theriault based on the recommendation of a friend. I am glad I did because I thoroughly enjoyed reading Bilodo the postman’s story. 

    Theriault’s tale reminds me of some of the fantastical Russian short stories like Gogol’s “The Nose.” Realism and poetry mixed with a dash of the imaginary. It begins innocently enough, with Bilodo delivering mail and leading quite the ordinary life. He has a routine – deliver post, eat lunch at the Madelinot, deliver post, go home, watch TV and eat dinner. But afterwards was what Bilodo really looked forward to. Indulging in his “secret vice.” Reading other people’s letters. 

    Bilodo’s life was enriched by following the stories that flew back and forth in these letters. There were “… letters from beer tasters comparing notes, from globetrotters writing to their mothers…overly reassuring letters servicemen dispatched from Afghanistan to their anxious wives…”

    But it was the love letters that caught his fancy in particular. He even made a photocopy for his records and would keep them to reread over and over. It was one such letter that turned Bilodo’s life upside down.

    Bilodo is instantly fascinated by Segolene’s intelligent haikus addressed to Grandpre, a poet.  And then one day Grandpre dies in a terrible accident. Segolene sends him letter after letter enquiring about the long silence. That’s when Bilodo decides to take matters into his own hands. He impersonates Grandpre and begins a long correspondence with Segolene, which takes him to the world of haikus, Japan and calligraphy. 

    I absolutely loved the luminous and needless to say, poetic nature, of this book. Magical realism combined with the seductive fragrance of a romance that increasingly becomes more passionate keeps you turning pages. And the haikus. Some of them were simply brilliant. Segolene’s have a lush and luscious quality to them while Bilodo’s are more straightforward with a clear thought. Here are a couple of my favourites:

    A hammering in the streets
    Shutters are nailed down
    The cyclone draws near

    Nighttime out at sea
    The shark yawns indolently,
    Munches a moonfish

    You can almost smell the rain in the first one and you can hear the waves in the sea in the second one. Even the prose is as evocative. 

    “Still the cursed loop. The serpent bit its tail. Time cannibalized itself.”

    I particularly liked the way Theriault shows Bilodo’s transformation. He comes alive, slipping completely into Grandpre’s skin, and immersing himself in Japan and poetry. It’s interesting to see how on one hand he gains control of haikus and loses control over himself on the other. As he grows closer to Segolene he goes farther away from reality.  

    Theriault’s words are like dancing lights skimming the page. They glide over you and you can’t stop turning till you reach the last page. I generally don’t wax poetic in reviews but this one deserves it. Playful, masterful, emotional and with just a hint of the lugubrious, this is a beautiful, little novelette to be savoured. 

    Verdict: One for the collection

    Rating: 4.8/5


    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: America Birdy's Pick favorites
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  7. For the longest time, I had put off reading this book because of time constraints. When I finally began reading it, I didn’t realize the time pass. Combining humor and dark thoughts through vignette like short stories, poetry, and illustrations, “Salted Biscuits” by Jasper Daniel is a mixed bag of thoughts. 

    There is a strong personal flavor in the book in terms of religion, relationships and experiences. Some of the short stories reminded me of haikus. The depiction of a scene or a moment in vivid words that remains with you for a while even after you finish reading. Like “The Timekeeper.” This is a short narration of a man who timed the number of times his wife had to feed their baby by winding a clock on a table in their home. Although barely a page long, the story is chillingly effective. 

    “Traces” is another example of a prosaic haiku, which projects strong imagery through a few words. 

    “The forensic experts came this morning with their dusters, blades and little poly bags. Thy searched what was left of his heart, and found traces of sympathy carelessly scattered around its chambers, by the sweet maid who made his bed every morning.”

    How evocative. To think of people coming with dusters to clean away pieces of a broken heart.

    I liked “Summer” as well. It reminded me of my own summers spent in the sun, enjoying the dirt and grime associated with it. 

    “Television was for older people. We watched flat stones skip on water and counted how many times they hopped.” 

    Indeed. Television used to be for older people while, we, children used to play with sticks and stones. I too “think of Summer when she was a friend.”

    One of my favourite “haikus” from this collection has to be “My Direction.” Punning on his wife Disha’s name, Jasper says, 

    “I asked God
    To show me the direction.
    He got me married to one.”

    There were, of course, parts that I didn’t understand or completely comprehend. I am sure a second reading might be beneficial to achieve a different perspective. 

    I am keeping this review short and sweet, just like Jasper Daniel’s small, little slices of life. Thanks to Disha for sending us this book for review!

    Verdict: Read this for a break from the ordinary

    Rating: 3.7/5





    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: Asian India Review on Request
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  8. I was browsing the net looking for something inspired me to write a blog post for a content writing project am working on. Something extraordinary, something different that would trigger those thoughts and get the pen flowing. How ironic then that I should come across this poem called "Make the Ordinary Come Alive," by William Martin. A modern reinterpretation of some aspects of the ancient classic the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu, Martin addresses parenthood through verse.

    The reason I selected this particular poem is because I felt everyone, not just children, can try to follow what the author has said. There is no great philosophy. The thoughts are what we have all thought a million times. But he puts it in a beautiful manner that made me read it a few times. Hope all of you enjoy it as much as I did!

    Make the Ordinary Come Alive
    by
    William Martin

    Do not ask your children
    to strive for extraordinary lives.
    Such striving may seem admirable,
    but it is a way of foolishness.
    Help them instead to find the wonder
    and the marvel of an ordinary life.
    Show them the joy of tasting
    tomatoes, apples, and pears.
    Show them how to cry
    when pets and people die.
    Show them the infinite pleasure
    in the touch of a hand.
    And make the ordinary come alive for them.
    The extraordinary will take care of itself.
    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: Poems Versedays
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  9.  The rains are a constant presence in South India. Sometimes I feel there is no season for them. It can rain anytime. I love watching the rain pouring down, as many of us I suppose, creating muddy little rivulets on the road, and making the leaves look fresh and green.

    And that's how I thought this week's poem should be Amy Lowell's "Summer Rain," to denote the rain that occurs at the edge of summer. Lowell was an American poet who posthumously won a Pulitzer Prize for her collection of poems named "What's O'Clock." She was highly influenced by the Imagist movement, which is evident in today's poem, in its vivid imagery making the scene come alive. Lowell's lifelong relationship with actress Ada Dwyer Russell has been the primary subject of discussion in most articles on her, with Russell being described as friend and lover alternatively. Whatever it was, biographer Richard Benvenuto has pointed out that Lowell's "great creative output between 1914 and 1925 would not have been possible without her friend's steadying, supporting presence."

    Hope you enjoy reading today's poem!

    Summer Rain

    by

    Amy Lowell

    All night our room was outer-walled with rain.
    Drops fell and flattened on the tin roof,
    And rang like little disks of metal.
    Ping!—Ping!—and there was not a pin-point of silence between them.
    The rain rattled and clashed,
    And the slats of the shutters danced and glittered.
    But to me the darkness was red-gold and crocus-coloured
    With your brightness,
    And the words you whispered to me
    Sprang up and flamed—orange torches against the rain.
    Torches against the wall of cool, silver rain!
    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: America Poems Versedays women's writing
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  10. Image Credit: IMDB


    I discovered two things tonight. One, that Evil or Ondskan is one of the best movies ever made. And two, that Andreas Wilson, who plays Erik in Evil is also one of the most good-looking men ever made. This movie was on my wishlist for a while, but it took today for me to watch it. I think I was partly petrified because I thought it might turn out to be some kind of gory horror flick on the nature of evil, but nothing could be further from the truth while being close to it.

    Image : IMDB
    Evil is horror. The horror of depravity that human beings can sink to. But at it's heart, and here I go, becoming cliched again, is a story of redemption and courage. Add that gooey Andreas Wilson to that mix, this makes a wonderful and compelling movie indeed. We see at the beginning of the movie that Erik is expelled from his school for fighting. He has a tempestuous relationship with his stepfather who canes him for the smallest altercations. His mother sells some of her family heirlooms to give Erik one last chance to graduate from a prestigious boarding school. It's Erik's brooding presence that captivates you from the beginning. At Stjärnsberg, Erik decides that there is too much stake and resolves to not pick a fight and get himself expelled. But he is immediately picked on by the seniors. At the school, there is a system of kamratuppfostran" ("schoolmate upbringing"). It's supposed to keep the school orderly, but Erik will follow rules, but not succumb to humiliation. It's here that the drama of the movie reaches its highest point. It's a cat and mouse game where the two members of the school council, Otto Silverhielm and Gustaf Dahlén push Erik to the limit, and you can only watch in frustration as Erik refuses. You know that the thread is going to break, and you watch the movie sitting on the edge of your seat as it becomes taut, then frail, and then...no, I won't tell you.

    To me, the rest of the movie is not about fighting back. It's not about knowing that the fight lies in not fighting. It's not about the friendship between Erik and Pierre. It's not the slow blossom love between Erik and the nurse Marja (forbidden at the school). But the movie was just an exploration on the nature of the human psyche. Why was I waiting for Erik to lash out? To turn on his perpetrators? Who is truly evil? Was it Erik? He is shown earlier in the movie violently beating a boy. Is it his step father? Or is evil the bullies at the school? Or is it you? Because you are waiting for the thread to snap? Compelling drama such as this, I believe, deserves more than a 68% score on Rotten Tomatoes.

    Watch this movie. I would do so again.

    Lifeometer: Ooooh la la. Just movie watching heaven. Even if I sound like a teenager in saying so.


    Posted by Unknown
    Labels: foreign movies greatest movies movie reviews
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