Ishmael Beah reading his book

There were lots of comments this week about how hearing an author like Ishmael Beah read his book was a new experience for you. This link from YouTube shows Ishmael reading excerpts at another presentation he did.

I've been to many readings at writing workshops and book signings over the years and it is very common for the author to read a few passages from the book. For me, it changes those passages especially, because I no longer hear my own voice in my head or whatever fictional voices I've come up with as I read the book. In a way, it overlaps the two experiences: I remember reading it and I remember the author reading it. It deepens the experience somehow.

I also find that seeing a film of a book changes how I "hear" and "see" the story as I read it. The Harry Potter series is a good example. I saw three of the films before I read any of the books. So when I sat down a couple of summers ago and read the entire series (right before the last book was released), I "saw" the scenes and "heard" the dialogue with those actors in my head. Harry Potter, for me, will always be Daniel Radcliffe. When I read Hermione's dialogue in the books, I hear it in Emma Watson's voice. Dumbledore is a little trickier, since the original actor, Richard Harris, was a favorite of mine, but I tend to hear Michael Gambon's voice in the later books.


I've heard J.K. Rowlings do her midnight readings when each book is released, but the films override the author's voice for me. 


What do you think?

Writing as a 'leap of faith'

This scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade is one I often use when talking about the "leap of faith" it sometimes takes to just start writing. As Indy's dad says, "You must believe. You must believe."

Ishmael Beah's audience: texting at least keeps them quiet

We'll write in class some about Beah's presentation Sept. 15 but, if you are like me, there was so much shared that you'll have plenty to write about on your blog too. One side-note to my observation Tuesday evening was how different audience members behaved during the presentation.

I was up in the balcony, having waited outside for a few class stragglers and then told the main floor was full. I was afraid the balcony would be loaded with last-minute arrivals who really didn't want to be there and would talk, laugh, walk around and participate in other distracting behavior. (It will surprise no one who knows me very well that I have no problem asking people to pipe down in lectures, movie theaters and concerts.)

Certainly there were late arrivals who disrupted my enjoyment of Beah's speech. People were still arriving in groups up till almost 8 p.m. Luckily, most of the tardy ones silently found seats further up and I could hear most of what Beah has to say (it was sometimes a little hard to detect every word when he lowered his voice). By and large, however, the crowd didn't get noiser than a soft hum and when I looked around I realized that part of the reason for the quiet was that those people who weren't paying attention were texting. The guy sitting in front of me texted on his iphone the entire hour Beah spoke. That much I could ignore, but he kept poking the young woman next to him to show what he had texted or someone else replied and then they'd snicker about it. At one point, right before he left, the young man put on his sunglasses, took his friend's phone and took a picture of himself with it. I'm sure he thought he was the coolest thing. I was not convinced.

Although I confess that I occassionally allowed Mr. Text, the Tardies and a few people who don't know how to modulate the sound of their voices annoy me, afterward I mostly felt sorry for them. Beah's presentation was riveting, funny and poignant. I didn't realize till Tuesday night how much he and I have in common as students of rhetoric and writers. He didn't just talk about his experience, but seemed to speak directly to college students about our opportunities and responsibilities in higher education. Those who didn't pay attention or didn't bother coming at all missed those powerful messages.