Tag Archives: strong female character

Keeping it Simple

So, I know nobody’s doing anything today but watching the internet for the first mention of the arrival of the Royal Baby (TM); my blog post will have nothing to do with that august personage, whoever he or she may turn out to be, so you might want to stop reading now if that’s what you’re hoping to find.

I couldn't resist this, though... Image: akg-images.co.uk

I couldn’t resist this, though…
Image: akg-images.co.uk

Today, what’s on my mind is story, and how keeping things uncomplicated can sometimes be the best thing you can do for whatever it is you’re writing.

At the weekend, my husband and I watched a film we’d never seen before, despite the fact it’s been in our DVD collection for many a moon. It’s a Coen Brothers movie, so we knew we were settling in for something good; I’ve since discovered it’s actually Joel Coen’s directorial debut, which (having watched the movie) is astounding. It dates from 1984, and it’s called ‘Blood Simple’.

Image: en.wikipedia.org

Image: en.wikipedia.org

This movie has one of the most straightforward, yet gripping, storylines I’ve ever come across. We have an unhappily married couple, the husband of which is a jealous and controlling type; we have a handsome ‘other man’, devoted to the wife of the unhappy couple, and we have a private eye turned ruthless assassin, who is a lot more astute than he looks. The film begins when the husband, Marty, suspects his wife (Abby) is having an affair, and hires the PI to keep an eye on her. When proof of her infidelity is found, Marty orders the PI to kill his wife and her lover, and to burn their bodies in the incinerator near his property. The PI, however, fools Marty into thinking he has fulfilled his duties by handing him a doctored photograph of his wife and Ray, her lover, covered in blood as they lie sleeping. He then shoots Marty with Abby’s small, pearl-handled gun, which he has already stolen from her, and absconds with his $10,000 fee and a perfect cover story. When Ray comes calling on Marty, looking for money he is owed, he comes across his body – and Abby’s gun. Thinking his lover has killed her estranged husband, he gets himself involved in the whole mess by trying to hide the body… and so the tangle tightens.

It’s not a complicated plot – it’s been done before. Love triangles, faithless marital partners, jealous husbands, wily private detectives, hapless lovers – none of this is new ground. What made ‘Blood Simple’ so good had, of course, a lot to do with the Coen Brothers’ direction and cinematography and the amazing performances of the actors, particularly Frances McDormand (Abby), but it also had a lot to do with the fact that the story was tight, controlled, and uncomplicated. It hinges on a number of misunderstandings and assumptions, perhaps (if I’m being honest) one or two coincidences, and the fact – used to wonderful effect – that people never do what you expect they will. There are also some moments of high tension, particularly around the scenes in which Ray is disposing of Marty’s body, which don’t really do a lot to move the plot along but which are nerve-tinglingly good. It’s a movie where you feel like shouting at the screen, because you know what the characters don’t, and you can see them heading for doom because they’ve simply misunderstood one another. So simple, but so brilliantly effective.

I also loved it because Abby, the wife, is a strong and intelligent woman who makes her own choices and is answerable to nobody. That’s an amazing female character now, let alone in 1984. I wish there were more characters like her in popular culture. Incredibly, her role as Abby was also Frances McDormand’s debut as a film actress.

Frances McDormand as Abby in a still from 'Blood Simple' Image: moviemaker.com

Frances McDormand as Abby in a still from ‘Blood Simple’
Image: moviemaker.com

What I learned from watching this movie was this: sometimes, a strong central plot is good enough by itself. You don’t always need interlocking subplots going back generations or overcomplicated relationships between characters – long-lost siblings, or secretly estranged couples, or one-time best friends turned mortal enemies, or whatever – and you certainly can’t ‘make up for’ poor characterisation by complicating the plot. ‘Blood Simple’ had excellent, strong characters as well as a solid plot, characters who stood individually and who were well-rounded and well-developed, characters who could each have carried a movie by themselves. I had written Marty off as a stereotype of a jealous husband – but there’s a lot more to him than that, as I learned. Abby is far from being the wilting housewife. Ray acts out of compassion and love, and is much softer than he appears, and Visser, the PI, is calculating and ever-so-slightly sadistic in his thinking, completely at odds with his bumbling, inefficient persona. Another interesting thing about the movie is the fact that these four characters, along with Marvin (a barman who works for Marty) are the main players, and the action is entirely focused on them. So, you don’t need a cast of thousands to tell a good story, either – it can be good to have a small ensemble and focus tightly on what they’re doing.

I tend to overcomplicate and overthink everything. I always have more people in a scene than I really need. I always worry that my plots are too simple and that they’ll be easily unravelled by even the least astute of readers. I’m not saying I’m a talent on a par with the Coen brothers, but even so – maybe, sometimes, less really is more.

As they say – Keep It Simple, Stupid. Perhaps this really is the best advice!

Once More Unto the Book Review – ‘ACID’

How on earth is it Saturday already? *Shakes clock* *peers at it peevishly*

I'm not *this* desperate to slow down time - not yet, anyway! Image: dailymail.co.uk

I’m not *this* desperate to slow down time – not yet, anyway!
Image: dailymail.co.uk

Oh well. In any case, Saturday is the day it appears to be, and so it must be time for this:

The Book Review Post!

Image: nosegraze.com

Image: nosegraze.com

This week, it’s all about fighting The Man, as I’m feeling the love for Emma Pass’ marvellous début novel, ‘ACID’. It’s not exactly a comfortable read, but that – in essence – is what makes it so good. And it is, indeed, so good.

I read ‘ACID’ pretty much in one sitting – no mean feat, considering it’s over 400 pages long – and when I tell you it gripped me from the first sentence, I mean it. ‘ACID’ has one of the most arresting opening chapters of any book I’ve ever read; Pass’ grip over language and character doesn’t relax for one second for the rest of the book, either. I felt like Jenna Strong’s story was dragging me by the nose. I had to find out what happened to her, because her voice was so compelling and urgent. The book is tight, well-written, expertly paced and so very clever – it’s almost too much to believe that it’s Emma Pass’ first published novel. It’s extremely accomplished, and my hat is off to her for that alone.

‘ACID’, set in 2113, is the story of the aforementioned Jenna Strong. At the time of the novel’s opening, Jenna is incarcerated in Mileway Maximum-Security Prison, having, we’re told, murdered her parents at the age of 15. She is (perhaps a tiny bit implausibly, but I instantly forgave it) the only female inmate in this prison; as a result, of course, she is sexually and physically victimised by the male inmates. Or, at least, the male inmates attempt to victimise her – Jenna, easily the most kick-ass heroine I’ve read this side of Katniss Everdeen, does not take their maltreatment lightly, and learns very quickly how to defend herself. After the breath-holding tension of the first few chapters, where we learn all about the prison, Jenna’s past, and her painful present, the story quickens into a rescue mission, mounted by persons unknown, to break Jenna out of Mileway.

The book takes us through Jenna’s new existence outside of prison, her efforts to stay under the radar and away from ACID – the Agency for Crime Investigation and Defence, i.e. the most brutal, merciless, and omnipresent police force you can imagine – and her growing involvement with an underground resistance movement which is dedicated to freeing the population from ACID’s iron grip. In the course of this, she must assume a new identity, start living a different life (including being forced to take a LifePartner with whom she cannot see eye to eye – the breakdown of their clandestine relationship brings her entire existence into danger), and eventually, inevitably, go on the run. This identity-swapping is done in order to try to evade ACID’s terrifying, all-seeing surveillance; later in the book she is forced to assume yet another identity, against her will this time. All these layers are deftly handled, giving Jenna’s character such satisfying texture and complexity.

The story describes daily existence in a country which was once the UK and is now the IRB, a walled-off, segregated totalitarian state. It is a chilling vision. Everything is monitored – ACID knows who you talk to, what you read, what you think, who your friends are – marital unions are state-sanctioned (everyone is assigned a LifePartner in their late teens, and any sign of deviance from this is severely punished), and couples may not become pregnant without a permit from the state. It’s not a new idea that total power brings total corruption, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a good idea – Emma Pass makes such excellent use of the trope that it seems new and fresh in her hands. The gradual uncovering of the truth behind Jenna’s early life, as well as her own origins, gives the story an emotional punch and makes you care deeply about Jenna and the pain she has been forced to suffer.

The secondary characters are also excellent, particularly Max – he’s almost the ‘heart’ to Jenna’s ‘muscle’, which is a refreshing reversal of expectation – and his kindness and compassion show us exactly how hard Jenna has had to become in order to survive. She is, however, hiding a painful secret from him for a large part of the book, and the strain this causes is made very clear. As well as excellent characterisation, another of my favourite features of the novel is the use of reproduced newspaper articles and komm readouts (‘komm’ being a device worn in the ear, and monitored by ACID, which allows you to ‘link’ to other people – almost like a smartphone, but with a heads-up display), which give us another perspective on Jenna’s first-person narration. I enjoyed the disparity which sometimes occurs between the way she views the happenings in her world and what ACID is actually thinking or doing – it’s nicely used to rachet up the tension where necessary. Plus, it looks really cool.

In short, everything about this book is top-notch – the writing, the characters, the narrative voice, the concept, the action sequences, the world-building (which feels sickeningly plausible!), the technology, and the emotional arc our characters travel. I did have two tiny quibbles, one of which I’ve touched on above (Jenna’s being the only woman in the prison), and another which occurs near the end of the book (where Jenna is handed an opportunity to achieve one of her goals, instead of creating her own means of getting what she wanted, which would have been more satisfying to read). However, these quibbles are swept away in the overall force of nature that is ‘ACID’.

Just to note: ‘ACID’ is probably considered a YA novel by publishers and librarians and booksellers, and so on, because Jenna is in her late teens, but I’m sure it would be relished by fans of crime writing, SF and speculative fiction, too. An excellent piece of work, which is heartily recommended.

Happy weekend, all! May the books be with you…