Argobot

I think this would have more weight if the game was trying to make a larger commentary on the history of American racism, but since it isn't, the connection between the FPS gratuitous violence and the violence in American history is tenuous.

The way Naughty Dog has been handling the marketing for this game is truly great but not backing down regarding female representation doesn't necessarily mean the game is going to be any good. I'm hopeful though. (Also, it's crazy to me that they had to specifically ask for female focus-testers. The fact that gender parity -- or something close to it -- in your marketing strategy isn't the automatic default seems incredibly short-sighted. No wonder publishers haven't been able to let go of the idea that games will only sell to a specific demographic group.)

I'm kind of tempted to just read through all of Eco's writing at this point. The Island of the Day Before is only $6 on Amazon...

Just finished reading Foucault's Pendulum and am trying to sort out my thoughts on it. Eco is not only one of the most unique writers I've read, but one of the most outright intelligent. Reading his stuff is a lesson in intellectual inferiority, but the sheer amount of detail that he puts into his novels is mesmerizing. Usually it would be a point of criticism if a book takes 400 pages to introduce its plot, but I no issue with the slow pace this book takes and was really grateful that Eco took the time to build up the history of the two men at the center of this story; it only strengthened the emotional weight of the novel's ending. (Hilariously, I made the decision to watch Room 237 while I was still reading this book. The contrast between the crazy Templar conspiracy in Foucault's Pendulum and the conspiracy theories about The Shining was amazing. At one point I was fully expecting the two would intersect and was really disappointed when they didn't.)

Well I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed some weird gender issues in these stories. I don't find Calvino as off-putting as other writers from this time period (Roth, Updike, Mailer), but by the time I reached the end of Cosmicomics, I was a little frustrated with seeing the same female character repeated over and over again. It's completely fine to write stories about relationships from a male perspective, but that doesn't mean all your female characters should solely exist as objects of desire--they can be people too. That's why I still think 'Distance of the Moon' is one of the stronger stories in this collection; the female character feels like a real person and has actual depth to her character beyond being the object of sexual attraction for the male narrator. I'm trying not to sound too harsh on Cosmicomics because I really did love reading these stories. The gender stuff is just one small negative I have with Calvino's writing.

Finally finished the last two stories (chapters?) last night. Calvino has some of the best depictions of human relationships that I have ever read. 'The Light Years' was particularly striking, mostly because I know all to well what it's like to agonize over how your actions are being perceived by others, and to then feel guilty because you're giving too much consideration to how others think of you. The contrast between that very human fear and the inconceivable grandness of light traveling through space, was absolutely beautiful. This is a beautiful book overall and it was such a joy to read. My only complaint--and I'm not entirely sure if this is justified--is that the sexual relationships were always from the perspective of a man, Qfwfq. I didn't have any issues understanding that perspective, but I was a little disappointed that all the women in the stories were just objects for Qfwfq to lust after, or to use as representations of his own sexual frustrations and inadequacies Again, I'm not entirely sure this is even a fair criticism to make, it's just something that I started to notice. As a comparison, I recently read Junot Diaz's short story collection This is How You Lose Her. It deals with many of the same themes as Calvino's book (albeit minus the cosmic backdrop), and also features a male character who is present in all of the individual stories. What Diaz does that is different, however, is provide a few stories from the perspective of the woman in the relationship, which works as a good corrective to only hearing the male character's version of events. I almost wish that Calvino had done something similar in Cosmicomics.

Spoiler to your spoiler: Edit: On Elizabeth

I agree completely with your interpretation of the ending.

Ugh. I do not recall so much yelling in the actual novel.

David Foster Wallace wrote some of the most painfully realistic depressed/suicidal characters in literature. I know that he drew a lot from his own personal experience with depression--especially with the character Kate Gompert--which is probably why the depression feels more genuine, and therefore much more difficult to read. I see Infinite Jest described as a comedy a lot, and I think that's a very misleading description. Sure there are some truly funny parts in this book, but it also so overwhelming sad, so raw and sincere, that calling a comedy really undercuts the emotional impact this book can have on a person.

I would agree with this, especially since I didn't immediately realize that Qfwfq was a recurring character in the stories, because each iteration of him feels different. There are still aspects that connect the different Qfwfqs, but each story could almost be told from a completely new character's perspective. But given that the stories themselves are about the many shifting multitudes that the universe contains, it makes sense that Calvino would want to tell these stories from the viewpoint of the same character, with only slight alterations depending on the circumstances. As far as his personality, I never had a problem identifying with Qfwfq. He's flawed, but his flaws are no more egregious than the flaws of most people, so it was easy for me to sympathize with him. Especially in "Distance of the Moon." I'm sure that everyone can relate to the feeling of unrequited love, and this story very beautifully captures how raw and upsetting that emotion can be, most notably through the character of the Captain's wife. I really hesitate to pick a 'favorite' story, since I don't really think that the stories can be separated out from one another, but if I had to, "Distance of the Moon" would be my favorite.

Yes, congrats Jake for your well-deserved coup and for continuing to make the best movie comparisons. Maybe I'm projecting my own indeterminate opinion of Bioshock Infinite on Sean/Jake/Chris, but after listening to them talk about Infinite for over an hour, I'm still not entirely sure that they like the game. Sure, there were a lot of positive comments made about Infinite, but many of the criticisms sound so large, so crucial to the game, that I'm not convinced anyone could raise those issues and still honestly say it is a 'good' game. Again, I might just be projecting. After hours of playing Infinite, I still have no idea if I like it or not. There are so many amazing things in this game, but I'm struggling to separate them from the flaws. Edit: In case anyone was wondering, the actual lyrics to 'Pump up the Jam' are: 'get your booty on the floor tonight/make my day/make my day.'

Unrelated to the cake, I'm sure. Happy entire-month-of-April Birthday!

Is that a cake made of cream puffs, or just tiny individual cream puffs?

It has been so long since I read If on a winter's night a traveler--I know that I enjoyed it, but I don't remember enough of it to rank it above Cosmicomics. (Anyway, I'm selfishly glad that they picked any other Calvino book besides one that I had already read).

Do you have link for the interview where Levine references Devil in the White City as an influence? I'm trying to guess at what elements of the book he would have drawn from while making Infinite, but am coming up short. I'd guess it's the time period, but Devil in the White City is set in the late 1800's, and I thought Infinite was supposed to take place in the 1910's, so I'm struggling to see the connection. I don't feel as strong of a hatred towards Devil in the White City as Greg does, but I agree that it is not a very deep book. In fact, reading that book is one of the main reasons I avoided historical fiction for such a long time; I assumed that all historical fiction was written in similarly pop, shallow style, but thankfully authors like Hilary Mantel and David Mitchell prove that historical fiction can actually be very worthwhile and meaningful as a genre.

While reading this month's book cast selection (Cosmicomics by Italio Calvino), I've been thinking about reading translated books. It's a subject that has always troubled me; in college, I studied Russian, but it took me several years before I reached an advanced enough language level to read any of the famous Russian novels in their original language. When I was only reading works in translation, I just assumed that I was getting an inferior product. But when I gained the (limited) ability to read in Russian, the difference in the original and the translated were not as stark as I assumed it would be. There definitely is a difference (and a significant enough one so that I didn't feel I had just wasted four years of my life studying an impossibly complicated language), but I was pleased to find that you can still glean the core meaning of something like Master and Margarita if you read it in English. I know that other people hear speak different languages--or at least don't speak English as a first language--so I'm curious to hear other's thoughts on translated works.

That Remnick article is so great--I love the idea of Nabokov crankily complaining about inferior Russian-to-English translations in front of his students. I've read both the Garnett and the Pevear/Volokhonsky translations of Brothers Karamazov, and the difference between the two is painfully noticeable.

But sometimes those cultural references are added by the translator--not the original writer. I can only really speak for Russian translations, but I know that some of the earlier, British translators were really prone to including references that would be understandable to their English audiences, but that did not make any sense in a Russian cultural context.

I've never considered that handdrawn animation might have a mini-renaissance fueled purely by nostalgia, but makes complete sense. We've already seen a resurgence of 'retro' ways of producing other creative mediums, why not with animation?

UC San Diego published a study last summer that argues spoilers actually help people enjoy the story more. The theory goes, if you already know what twists the plot is going to take, you'll have more freedom to examine the smaller details you might have missed if you enter into the story completely blind. http://ucsdnews.ucsd.edu/newsrel/soc/2011_08spoilers.asp Obviously this is all a matter of preference; some people do not mind spoilers and others want to go completely blind into a story. There's no right or wrong way to enjoy something. (Although personally I don't have a huge problem with spoilers, but I will admit that accidentally hearing some of the plot details for Infinite has slightly deflated my enthusiasm for playing the game.

The trailer is absolutely gorgeous; really excited to see where this game goes. (Also, the little girl cake-topper statues reminds me of this George Saunders story http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/features/2012/10/15/121015fi_fiction_saunders I'm sure that's completely coincidental, but it still makes me happy.)

I just assumed that was a red herring, since it was a widely announced feature in the lead up to the release of the game.

Speaking of the music, I went into the game knowing that there would be modern songs redone in a turn-of-the-century style, and feeling very apprehensive about that fact. But then the first time I heard a barbershop quartet version of 'God Only Knows,' I wasn't that bothered by it and actually kind of enjoyed it.