The King's Speech: In Which I Overcome My Own Obstacle...

"I have a right to be heard. I have a voice!"

I have been putting off this review for a few weeks for one simple reason: I'm not very good at writing positive reviews, and I think it really shows. I've written maybe one positive review ever, and it's considerably shorter than my other reviews. As I've said before, I find it much easier to rant about something's bad points than to talk about its merits, and that includes my own work. But I decided that I would get nowhere just writing what I find easy, so without further delay, let's get on to the review at hand: The King's Speech.

When I went to the theatre, I had no idea I would be watching this film. In fact, having heard of it I expressed no real desire to watch it; I didn't even know what it was about (beyond, you know, the King making a speech...), but the friend I was with suggested it when we found that couldn't watch the film we wanted to see in 2D (neither of us like watching films in 3D, something which I will cover in due time). I went into the film blind, which I admit is not the best way to watch a film you will later be reviewing but, well, I hadn't planned on reviewing it when I first sat in that seat.

I will start with the first thing I noticed, in the very first scene; the film looks amazing. The cinematography was simple, but very pleasing to the eye and the use of lighting and colours was, if not striking, fairly attractive. I'm not especially knowledgeable in this area, so I won't go on too much, I just thought it was worth mentioning.

I suppose I should bring this up earlier rather than later because there isn't much point in delaying it; Colin Firth's performance in this film was amazing. From the very first line I was drawn in, and he made the character so sympathetic, so human, and so relatable, especially considering he is royalty. Obviously the script played an enormous role in the fleshing out of the character, but Firth put on the finishing touches and made Bertie's character so heart-breakingly real. There was one quiet, poignant scene towards the halfway point that just took my breath away; without wanting to give away too much, I'll just say this: I never would have thought hearing a man singing his hardships to the tune of 'Swanee River' could bring tears to my eyes, but I would honestly be surprised if I was the only one.

Here is another point I will go over quite briefly, as this is the embarrassing moment when I admit that my knowledge of history is frankly laughable. I won't go too far into my ignorance because again: embarrassing, but I will say that I accepted everything I saw in the film as being at least somewhat based on true historical events, and as far as I can understand, it was, if condensed so it would fit into a two hour film. I will also admit that I never usually watch what I would call 'historical films', mainly because history isn't something I'm hugely interested in, but The King's Speech has made me seriously consider giving more of them a try.

Now I'll go on to how the film managed to surprise me, not with the plot (for people who do know the history, the storyline could not have possibly surprised them) but with its use of humour. I honestly was not expecting to laugh when I saw the film's poster and when my friend gave me a very brief idea of the premise, but I did get not only a giggle or two, but there were a few moments when I genuinely laughed out loud. Geoffrey Rush's performance as Lionel Logue is delightfully quick, sarcastic and lively; the gall with which he speaks to the Prince, and later the King, was hilarious at times, and the fact that he didn't seem to care just made me enjoy the character more. Not to mention Helena Bonham Carter's Elizabeth is both tender and loving, and charmingly funny.

The only complaint I have is that I highly suspect the film of doing what's known as 'Oscar Baiting', that is, making a film about an important or sensitive subject, so that it has emotional appeal and will hopefully win a lot of awards. Despite this, I think the film, and its actors, earned all of the awards they got. Even if the film was written only to win awards (which I doubt), it was written in a way so that it didn't seem forced or obvious; I didn't ever think to myself; 'this scene is obviously just to get the actor an award'; every scene that tugged at the heartstrings had a reason to be there, and they never felt intrusive or contrived. It was a genuinely moving and inspirational film, and I cannot recommend it highly enough.

There, I suppose that wasn't so hard after all. Only now I have to watch or read something truly terrible to fill my Reviewer's Rage quota. Maybe I should give that new Brighton Rock film a watch...

"Surely a prince's brain knows what its mouth is doing?"
"You're not well acquainted with princes, are you?"

How I Would Improve Forgetting Sarah Marshall

You know how people say it's never a good sign when you can write something better than the film you're watching? Although I rarely get exactly that feeling, since I know nothing about writing films, I do occasionally feel like I could improve a film by making a few changes. This is what this segment is all about, and we will start off with a film I saw a few years ago and feel embarrassed to say I actually watched the whole thing: Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

How I Would Improve Forgetting Sarah Marshall:
1. Take out Sarah Marshall, or make her a throwaway character at the beginning who maybe comes back once later in the film.

2. Take out the unfunny, mind-numbing, cringe-worthy sex comedy. And the nudity. I'm not a prude, but seeing Jason Segel naked added nothing to the film. It wasn't necessary or funny, it was just an excuse for a visual dick joke (see beginning of sentence: it wasn't funny). There was one funny sex-related joke; when he says 'I'm pretty sure I ruined her day' followed by an ironic cut; a joke that could be kept in, even if it was one of the more graphic ones, but it was brief and didn't outstay its welcome, just as I think all sexual gags should be, unless your aim is to make your audience extremely uncomfortable.

3. Make Peter's 'Dracula Musical' the main focus of the film. It could have been a film about a guy who breaks up with his long-term girlfriend and, in an attempt to get over the breakup, decides to do something he's wanted to do for a long time and didn't because he was in that relationship: in this case, try and get his musical off the ground. It's something that a lot of people can relate to, and this aspect of the story was endearing and entertaining and it was the only thing in the film I actually enjoyed. If the film was about that, and it incorporated the new budding romance, it could have greatly benefited the film.

4. This isn't totally necessary, in fact, this is just a personal thing, but take out Russell Brand. Seriously. I can't remember the name of his character, because he was just playing the same character he plays in every film he's in: Russell Brand. Okay, I know he's very popular, but considering my earlier revision which removes the Sarah character, you could at least reduce Brand's appearance to an amusing cameo when Peter bumps into Sarah again and sees she's now dating a bastard English rock star. Cameo done, less annoying Brand antics, get on with the film.


Remember, this is just how I personally would have changed the film. I realise that my alterations pretty much completely change the premise of the film: a comedy where a guy goes on holiday to get over his ex, but oh my god, she's there too! What a wacky coincidence! Yes, that might have been an okay premise, but unfortunately it wasn't very well executed, and I found the sub-plot much more interesting and would have preferred it if the film had focused on that instead.

Sexist Gender Flips

A lot of television programmes have male protagonists. This is something which TV Tropes (enter with caution) chalks up to the Most Writers Are Male theory, which extends to the school of thought that most viewers are also male, and therefore are more likely to identify with a male character. In fact, even programmes that are allegedly 'Gender Neutral' will still have a male protagonist because girls are believed to have an easier time identifying with male characters than boys do with female characters. Think about it: have you seen a television programme or film (especially a children's cartoon) that was targeted at both genders and had a female protagonist?*

But something that comes up a lot, particularly in children's programmes, is what I call 'The Gender Flip Episode'. The Gender Flip Episode is, as you can probably guess, an episode in which our main character spends an episode as a member of the opposite sex (in almost every example, the flip is male to female) through some form of magic, 'Science' (a very vauge term thrown around quite liberally in Televisionland, but that isn't what we're focusing on today), or it could be the result of a strange (and markedly Freudian) dream sequence. You would think that The Gender Flip Episode would be an opportunity for the writers to show that the line between genders is more blurred than one might think, as the character has become, in a sense, both male and female. It could also be a commentary on gender equality, as our character may find herself being treated differently to how he had been treated before. But, more often than not, the episode only succeeds in perpetuating gender stereotypes by having the character suddenly find interest in 'girl' things like makeup and fashion, and discard old 'boy' things like comics, video games and race cars.

The majority of my examples are children's programmes because I feel that these are the programmes that are supposed to at least try to teach the younger generations about equality, sexism and the like, and yet they seem to be the worst offenders, sacrificing potentially thought-provoking material for cheap gags about a previously male character suddenly acting feminine. I won't even go into what this says about camp men.

So let's have a look at some of these gender flips...


Ozzy and Drix:' Out of Body Experience'
Osmosis "Ozzy" Jones is a cell who lives inside a young teenage boy named Hector. After Hector nearly drowns, Christine performs CPR, saving his life, but causing Ozzy to end up in Christine. The City of Christine is pink, clean (with "such darling shops!") and filled to the brim with female cells who are infatuated with Hector and, by extension, Ozzy. As the episode continues, Ozzy becomes more and more 'girly' which consists of him turning pink, looking at himself in the mirror and talking about shoes and puppies, which is, of course, horrifying for such a tough, manly cell like Ozzy, who has to fight against it by arm-wrestling and doing press-ups. Oh, and he can't drive when he turns pink. Nice. Hell, The City of Christine is so girly, it drives Chief Maximus, the one male inhabitant, to villanous insanity, with its lack of sports channels, mandatory dance lessons and burping laws. Because of course no woman is interested in sports (forgetting the fact that, I don't know, dance is a sport!). Not to mention, said Cheif Maximus is the chief of police and has control over the women on the force. Just putting that out there. Mind you, I should point out that they also put forward the more positive stereotype that girls are smarter than boys ("Wow, your brain advisors actually have... brains!") which was quite cute, and the police force are pretty tough and competent, so at least the 'girls are weak' stereotype is left well alone, but overall I find that the episode is fairly black and white about genders.

Malcolm in the Middle: 'If Boys were Girls'
Lois, expecting a fifth child, is asked if she would prefer a girl or another boy. This question makes her imagine if her sons were daughters instead. At first it seems that everything would be better: a petty fight over a pen is solved with words and a group hug, a trip to the mall to buy clothes is something they look forward to, and they are all cooperative and well behaved. But as the episode goes on, Lois begins to realise that Renee, Mallory and Daisy are just as bad, if not worse than  Reese, Malcolm and Dewey; trying to manipulate their mother, taking diet pills, getting pregnant and marrying sleazy men. Now, this example I like because it shows that daughters can be just as bad as sons. This episode does delve into a lot of female stereotypes, such as girls loving clothes and shoes (although this is all in Lois' imagination, so you need to bear that in mind) and the girls being portrayed as manipulative and bitchy is certainly questionable, but it has the overall message that having four daughters would not be better than four sons, because teenagers will be a handful regardless of sex. Saying that girls are just as bad as boys rather than saying they are just as good as boys is an interesting angle to take on the war of the sexes, and 'If Boys Were Girls' is a gender-flip episode that I enjoyed and that I readily applaud.

Fairly OddParents: 'The Boy Who Would Be Queen'
Timmy needs to think of the perfect gift for his crush Trixy's birthday, but he can't think of what girls like. When Wanda suggests he wishes to be a girl, he and Cosmo mock her, causing Wanda to turn him into a girl anyway. Now able to think like a girl, Timantha (yes, that's the name he goes by) heads out to find Trixy a gift, only to find that boys and girls aren't all that different. The funny thing about this episode is that it tries to counter sexism by saying that it's okay for boys to like 'girl' things and for girls to like 'boy' things, and it does come close to putting that message across ("Hey, I like 'Kissy Kissy Goo Goo' and 'Skull Squisher'!"). Unfortunately it does come across as quite sexist because it defines 'girl' stuff as being romance shows and beauty salons and 'boy' stuff as being violent comic books and dead frogs. I can only really say that at least this cartoon tried not to be sexist, and it did basically say that if you are a boy and you like romance shows then you aren't a freak, and the same goes for girls who like comics, so I suppose you have to give it some credit.

*Incidentally, if you are aware of any gender neutral programmes with a female protagonist, feel free to post a comment because I'm interested to see how many there are, as I obviously haven't seen every television programme ever.

In fact, if you know of a Gender Flip Episode that handles the concept with a decent level of dignity and doesn't rely too heavily on stereotypes, leave a comment as well. If enough comments are posted, I may make a sequel to this, giving examples of well-done Gender Flips.

Christmas

I know I may have given the impression that I am a grouch who doesn't like anything (save one play I saw over a year ago), but although I may come off as something of a Scrooge, when it comes to Christmas, I am essentially the anti-Scrooge.

I love Christmas. I love how the streets are so busy (something that is even more noticeable now that I live near a big city), I love the food, I love the warm feeling you get going into a shop or stepping into your home after walking outside in the bitter cold, I love wrapping up in coats, scarves and gloves, I love the snow, I love the Christmas trees and their smell, I love how I can go home and visit my family, having been away for so long now, I love the annoying Christmas songs, I love the blinding, obnoxious lights and cheesy decorations, I love carol services, I love going to church on Christmas day, I love having chocolate for breakfast, I love starting drinking as early as ten o'clock in the morning, I even don't especially mind how Christmas has become commercialised.

I. Love. Christmas.

I wish I had something profound, philosophical or intellectually stimulating to say, but I don't. I just wanted to share my love for Christmas and encourage everyone else to enjoy this holiday. I want you all to do something that is traditional to you: visit your grandma, buy some Christmas presents, wander into a carol service, give your significant other a kiss under the mistletoe, watch Home Alone, The Snowman, The Muppets Christmas Carol or Die Hard, stroll through a snow-covered park, eat a mince pie. In my opinion, Christmas isn't a time to be angry about what you don't like, it's about enjoying what you do like.

Of course, if you don't celebrate Christmas, that's not a problem. Have a happy Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or whatever it is you celebrate during this time, and if you don't celebrate anything, there's nothing that says you can't simply enjoy the month of December.

Merry Christmas.

Pretty to Plain, Just Add Glasses

"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me" - Mr Darcy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice

Sorry to state the obvious, but novels are not a visual medium. When a character is described as unattractive, we take their word for it, and create a picture of them in our minds with that in consideration. Because beauty is a personal and subjective thing, many people will have differing ideas on what is unattractive. Not to mention, if not a lot of detail is given, you can interpret 'unattractive' to mean anything from not conventionally attractive in the time period the novel is set in, to utterly repulsive. But what happens when a novel is adapted into a film? Casting directors need to cast the beautiful characters, which should be easy enough with Hollywood's abundance of gorgeous stars. But what to do about the plain women and the unappealing men? Will they cast an unattractive actor? Perhaps a plain, or less conventionally attractive actor? Unsurprisingly, they will often opt for an attractive actor, and they may or may not go to lengths to hide their good looks, depending on how important the character's appearance is to the plot. But expect the character to still look beautiful, as a quote from The Simpsons of all places puts it quite well, they will be "TV-ugly, not ugly-ugly".

It always bothers me when a character in a book is described, sometimes even at great length, as unattractive, at least conventionally so, and yet they are played by a beautiful actor. One example that perfectly illustrates my point is Keira Knightley as Eliza Bennet in the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. It was a stupid casting choice because Knightley is not only a very attractive woman, she probably would have been considered very attractive in the era in which the film is set, so you can't even justify it with the differing standards of the time periods. The casting of Jennifer Ehle in the 1995 BBC adaptation was, I felt, much more fitting. Although by no means an unattractive actress, I would believe that, with her rounder face and softer features, Ehle would not have been considered very pretty by the standards of the time period, while her sister Jane, played by Susannah Harker, had the more desirable long face shape and sharper, more striking features.

It is very common for films to have roles of supposedly unattractive characters played by attractive actors, simply because... um... actually I don't know why. Are film makers afraid that we as viewers won't watch a film if it has realistic or ugly characters in them? If we could handle Lon Chaney's hideous makeup in the 1925 film The Phantom of the Opera, we can handle a genuinely plain person every now and then. Anyway, for whatever reason, beautiful people are cast in these roles, usually 'de-prettified' in some way by dressing them in less flattering clothes, giving them bad hair or by adding glasses. Admittedly, giving an attractive actor unflattering clothes is a fairly good trick, but it doesn't really work because a beautiful actor is still beautiful with messy hair and a baggy argyle jumper.

Now, there is something that I must address, because if I don't it is sure to come back and bite me in a less than pleasant place. Here I am going on about characters having makeovers in film adaptations, when I thoroughly enjoyed the film adaptation of Louis Sachar's Holes, despite the fact that this film is guilty of just that. In the book, the protagonist, Stanley Yelnats, is an awkward teenager who is frequently teased for his weight, and later given the nickname Caveman because of his size, and also because a fossil that he finds. In the film, Stanley is played by Shia Labeouf, a tall, thin, lanky actor who is, let's face it, very attractive. Having watched some of the film's extras, they do explain that they had considered casting a chubby or overweight actor, but because in the book the character becomes slimmer and fitter over a long period of time, which would have been very difficult to show in a film, they had to remove that aspect of the character. They also mention that chubby teenage actors are hard to find, although I doubt that very much. True, this casting choice did mean that the whole bullying thing had to be swept under the rug, and the Caveman nickname didn't work quite as well, but I understand why they made this decision, and at least they put some thought into it and didn't just think "well, we can't cast an actual fat person, our characters all need to be attractive!" and I thought the film worked well despite this, so I will let it slide because I just love that film.

Back on the subject of glasses, I have to say that something I always take issue with is this persisting idea that glasses are supposed to be unattractive. It seems that, in movie land, people can't see Julia Robert's face behind a pair of glasses; maybe they are magical or something. Adding glasses works somewhat in older films because glasses were not particularly stylish, and they didn't come in very many differing or fashionable designs, so in these cases I will let it slide, albeit reluctantly. But the problem is that it is still used as a 'de-beautifying' technique to this day, and as a glasses wearer, I can't help but feel offended at the implication that my choice to not stick my fingers in my eyes every morning or spend hundreds of pounds to be shot in the eyes with a laser makes me 'frumpy'. On top of all of that, it is just lazy. Some films utilise makeup and prosthetics to make their actors look less conventionally attractive, but some just feel that throwing on a pair of glasses will do just as well. Don't expect us to see a pair of glasses and automatically see the character as unattractive. Christopher Reeve was still Christopher Reeve, even with his Clark Kent glasses on. Now, I know that Superman wore glasses as a disguise and not as something to make him look less attractive, but my point is that, even when he wore large, thick-framed glasses, he was still a good looking man.

At least the idea of the 'brainy specs' makes a little bit of sense, considering short-sightedness is related to reading a lot of books, even if the reason for this isn't fully understood, so I can accept that it is somewhat grounded in logic. Also, at the very least it is a somewhat flattering trope, even if it does have a somewhat patronising feel to it, as if to say, "Hey, you four-eyed kids may not be good looking, but at least you're smart!" although I suppose it is to separate the 'brains' from the 'beauty' for the sake of balance.

Incidentally, many people now consider glasses to look very attractive, so suck on that, Hollywood.

Much Ado About Nothing: A Tragedy in Disguise

The well-known Shakespeare play Much Ado About Nothing is a comedy about two young lovers whose love is disrupted by a series of misunderstandings brought about by the bitter, sly and manipulative Don John.

For me, the play has always had a large question mark hanging over the 'comedy' part. Yes, it does follow the conventions of a comedy: two young lovers, longing to be together, are kept apart by some form of authority figure, and are eventually able to come together by the end, and they get married and everyone is happy. But many people, especially feminist critics, would question whether the ending was in fact happy.

To give a brief overview of the plot, Claudio and Hero are in love, and intend to marry. But Don John stages a scene for Claudio to 'overhear' so that he thinks Hero is being unfaithful to him. The gullible young Claudio is swindled, and chooses to confront Hero, not privately, but on their wedding day, utterly shaming her until she faints from shock. Claudio then proceeds to leave her, disgraced, at the alter. Hero's family decides to tell Claudio that Hero has died, and when the news of her innocence is announced, Claudio grieves for her. Luckily, it is revealed that Hero is not dead at all, and the two get married and live happily ever after.

At the risk of sounding dramatic, I feel have to add: 'Or do they?' Hero, being the traditional, submissive woman in this play appears to have no pride. She seems to simply accept what Claudio has done to her. Apparently it's okay that he publicly humiliated her and accused her of lechery on rather unsubstantial evidence, because he is very, very sorry. I do not consider this play's ending a happy one, as Claudio in no way pays for his misguided and thoughtless actions, although it is hardly a tragic ending, as there is no death. However, the lack of death does seem to be the one thing that stops this play from being a tragedy. Therefore, I believe Much Ado About Nothing to be a tragedy in disguise.

After some studying and research on the subject of tragedy and comedy, I have discovered a way to make Much Ado About Nothing, the comedy, into The Tragedy of Claudio and Hero with only a few small changes.

First things first, in order to keep with the format of the Aristotelian tragedy, Claudio must be of a high status. As he is a nobleman, he is already of fairly high status, so no changes required there. Very importantly, as a tragic hero, he will need a tragic flaw. Again, no changes needed, as we can call his naïve and influential tendencies a tragic flaw, as well the fact that he is clearly short-sighted and severely judgemental.

The scene in which Don John tricks Claudio into believing Hero is unfaithful could remain wholly intact, and act as the pivotal point where Claudio begins his descent. He shames Hero on their wedding day, again, no changes necessary, and again, Hero's family later tells Claudio that Hero has died as a result of his heartless verbal onslaught.

Here is where the changes must begin (note how late in the play the changes become necessary): Claudio, grieving for Hero, laments the consequences of his actions, but his pride and sense of honour convince him that he did the right thing in confronting her for her misdeed. When it is revealed that Hero is innocent, Claudio, overcome by grief and regret for his grave error of judgement, takes his own life, tragically, before the news reaches him that Hero is not really dead. Hero, bereft at the death of her lover, follows suit and takes her life as well. Curtain.

Note how, with so few changes, all of them towards the end of the play, this comedy becomes a tragedy. The main differences are that Claudio is punished for his cruel actions, after his descent from a noble, if shy, young lover to a cold, unforgiving 'murderer' as it were. Unfortunately, Hero still does not receive a happy ending, but as a tragedy, it is more fitting, whereas it seems unfair that Hero gets no form of compensation for the terrible experience she has had to endure at her new husband's hand, in what is supposed to be a comedy.

Obviously, this is only my opinion, but I feel that the play would have worked better as a tragedy, as it has always bothered me that Claudio avoided the consequences of what I consider to be a terrible thing to do to someone, particularly to the woman you supposedly love, and none of the other characters seemed to find this unjust. What is very interesting, I find, is that if Claudio simply took a minute to think things through before openly insulting Hero, things would have run much more smoothly, whereas the tragic hero Hamlet suffered dearly for thinking things through too much. Shakespeare's heroes need to learn to find a happy medium, I suppose.

Unreliable Narrators

WARNING: This post contains possible spoilers for the following books: Frankenstein, The Woman in White and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. Proceed with caution.

"Since you have preserved my narration... I would not that a mutilated one should go down to posterity." - Victor Frankenstein of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein

There are a number of texts which touch on the idea of unreliable narrators. They could be biased, they may not have all the information, they may be recounting events which they never witnessed, and are therefore only speculating. In some cases, narrators have a completely different view on events, as in the case of Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, in which the narrator is autistic and reports on the events around him quite differently, with very specific details on things which other narrators would likely pass by. There is also the possibility of the work itself being tampered with if, for instance, the frame of the story is that of a diary or a series of letters, they could have been altered by another character within the story. When studying Wilkie Collins' The Woman in White, my English teacher encouraged us to question the validity of Marian's recount through diary extracts as, at the end of her entries, the villain, Count Fosco, writes in her diary. We were led to suspect that her diary had been altered, possibly with entire passages removed by Fosco in order to protect him from being exposed for the crimes he committed.

When characters recount events in which much dialogue takes place, I have always been sceptical as to whether or not the narrator would really be able to take in all the information at the time and report it back perfectly, word for word. If I were to write down a conversation that took place several hours before, I probably wouldn't use quotations and instead use flimsy phrases like 'he said it was a bad idea' because I would be unable to remember his exact wording. Then again, people in real life rarely have the ability to speak so eloquently and with such rich subtext as many novels will have you believe, so some suspension of disbelief is required. Referring back to The Woman in White, Marian's recounts through her diary entries are somewhat justified in having the dialogue flawlessly replicated by her natural gift of a photographic memory, but many other texts seem to imply that characters just remember exactly how every event happened. Apparently they were that impacting and memorable. Or perhaps I'm going prematurely senile.

When reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein I started to wonder, as the story progressed, how reliable this narration was, as these events were being recounted by more and more narrators. To clarify, at one point in the story, the monster is telling Frankenstein his tale, which Frankenstein dictated to Walton, who was writing the tale in the form of a letter to his sister. Then later, during the monster's tale, he begins retelling the tale of Felix and Safie. I reached the point where it just started to seem ridiculous. I couldn't know at this point if any of the narrative would be accurate as I was reading it, because it had been through three different narrators before it got to Walton's letter, which I was supposedly reading. My suspension of disbelief was strained at best. Then I read a passage in the last chapter in which Walton explains how Frankenstein amended his account, to fix any mistakes, to ensure that the correct story would go down in history. Despite it not being a particularly pressing concern, this did make it seem more believable. Luckily Shelley is a good enough writer that it didn't bother me enough for me to be distracted all through the novel.

So next time you're reading a book, think about what it is that you're actually reading. How reliable do you think your narrator is? Is it a first-person narrative, in the form of a recount, or a third-person narrative, from the point of view of a seemingly omnipotent observer? Perhaps it is told from a random onlooker's perspective, and we only see their interpretation of the events. Or maybe the narrator really is that good at remembering the tiniest detail of every person they encounter. Mind you, some characters seem striking enough to leave enough of an impression that you could never forget that subtle birthmark just above his full, shapely lips, surrounded by just a touch of stubble on his strong, chiselled jaw.

But don't take my word for it, I just escaped from a mental asylum. And I'm a compulsive liar.