Oh My Rowling!

Welcome To My Blogg.



HERE you will find a wonderland of less-then-three love, dreams, passions, constantly changeing blogs, and basically everything worth having.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

I CHANGED THINGS. AGAIN.

What does one do at 12.02 am when she can’t sleep? She blogs, of course!

This is my first post in quite a long time, and I have somewhat matured in my wordy-words, so I hope this is enjoyable to read. Without prolonging any further, today’s topic! It’s something a little bit different to the stuff I normally post on here.

I have been reading a book, dearest internet friends. It is called The Messenger, and was scribbled by Markus Zusak, who apparently writes books as a hobby rather than a career and (I quote) “watches the same movies over and over and over again”. He seems a lovely old chap, (well, he’s not that old, around 36, so he is actually pretty young-ish) and lives in Sydney.
This book is about a lad called Ed who is basically going no-where in life. He gets some cards in the mail, some crazy shit happens, and Hey PRESTO! We have our messenger.  It sounds (and is, to be frank) odd, but somehow our bud Markus has made it into a powerful novel that government schools study in Year 10.
I particularly like this author because of his unique writing style. In everyday context it would make zero sense, but in this book it creates a realistic scene you can almost taste.  For example:

“I laugh and the stars watch. It’s good to be alive”

You can’t take his writing literally. Doing so would confuse the hell out of anyone. I love that quote because of the picture it paints in one’s mind. Oh yeah, the quote is from the Messenger, by the way.  And this little rave/rant/doobly-doo is too.

Ed Kennedy.

He is such a waste of space. Good for nothing, too much like his drunk of a father, going no-where, unlike his babe of a younger brother, who is smart, rich and not in that backwash of a town that Ed hasn’t yet escaped. All he does is play cards with his equally lame friends (and Audrey, the hot girl who can’t love a thing) and drive people around in a Taxi.
Then the Ace of Diamonds rocks up in his mailbox, with directions too some supposedly random houses. The plot thickens, Ed gets a few more dimensions, and this seemingly flat-panel world becomes extended and complex.

(This is where I may start to not make any sense what so ever. Just a heads up.)

Instead of simply stating that these people that Ed has to deliver messages have complicated backgrounds that make them rapists/evil/catholic/violent/smelly, Markus actually lets the reader feel these traits. He joins words that normally wouldn’t be compared, uses phrases that normally wouldn’t comprehend and all the while sticks to the common theme: the cards.

Not understandin’? Well, maybe this odd comparison will help me make my point.

Think of a painting. The most wonderful, realistic canvas that you have ever seen. It’s all right there, plain and simple, yet so confusing and magnificent. (Well, at least I HOPE it is...). This book, and others by Markus, are like that painting. You can smell the grass, taste the orange and breathe in that endless blue sky. (Just presuming that your imaginary paints only depict an orange, some grass and a bluest blue sky.)
It might my babbling easier to understand if you read the book. Then again, it is 12.37 in the freaking morning, and my brain isn’t working properly. So I think I shall leave this lovely little post here.
Thank you for reading :) I think the next post will be about The King’s Speech and how that made me want to travel. Yeah, I don’t get how it made me want to either.

Love Ell x