I almost never get out to movies when they're in theaters -- such is the life of a parent who does not live near family or other potential babysitters. But if you're looking for something to see this weekend, I can make a recommendation based on (1) the book and (2) all of the reviews I've read suggesting that the movie is loyal to it: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. (IMDB) (Amazon)
If you read this blog on any sort of regular basis, you know what my usual fare tends to be...if it's not funny, experimental or talking about the end of the world, it's unlikely I've read it. The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is one of the very few exceptions that I haven't tried and thrown across the room. It's a short memoir written by the editor of French Elle, who definitely lived a little more nicely than I do. Until one day, at the age of 46, he had a stroke and was almost totally paralyzed...but was still very lucid. The title refers to how he perceived his body, and his mind.
The book came out when I was doing long train commutes. I was always looking for something that wasn't an abandoned newspaper I could pick off of a seat after a couple of stops. Mostly, I was fascinated by how it came to be written -- especially since it was 1997 and I'd pretty much given up on writing at that point, much less with just my left eyelid. But damn if Bauby didn't completely suck me in. I expected the book to follow certain Overcoming Adversity paths -- probably also relevant to my occupation at the time -- but nope. There is all sorts of ambiguity. And despite the Extreme Makeover feel of the movie trailer? The book is so worth reading that I lent it out and stole it back.
Excerpt here. And yeah, it's already in my Netflix queue.
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