Michelle Levigne

A recovering Trekker and Cleveland Indians fan, Michelle Levigne works full-time as a freelance editor. Current projects include the upcoming print version of her SF series, “The Chorillan Cycle,” from OakTara, Arthurian fantasy, “The Zygradon Chronicles,” at Uncial Press, and the YA fantasy series “The Hunt,” at Writers Exchange, Australia. Heavy influences in her life include Bill Cosby, Isaac Airfreight, and Marvel Comics. Website: www.Mlevigne.com.

DON’T READ THAT BOOK!

INKHEART
by Cornelia Funke

From The Mummy: “No one ever got in trouble reading a book.” Then five minutes after reading from the book, unholy heck breaks out. When Evelyn made that utterly stupid statement, she was either lying through her teeth, or naïve. And considering the stupid things scholars are portrayed doing in movies, I’d say naïve! (TSTL syndrome: Too Stupid to Live.)


Supposedly you can raise the dead to life by reading from the Book of the Dead, and kill people by reading from the Book of Life. Huh? Don’t ask me—the Egyptians made up that particular moronic rule (which explains all that bizarre tomb art).


Actually, it wasn’t that she read from the book, but that she read aloud, which is how the hero of Inkheart gets into trouble—reading aloud to his little girl. Mo preserves and rehabilitates battered old books, and he’s basically living on the run from a cold-hearted, fictional villain he brought into the real world by reading aloud.


Is it just me, or are we getting a lot of messages lately that books and reading are BAD FOR YOU?


In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, what causes trouble for Harry? A little book that Ginny reads, that brainwashes her and activates an evil spell stored in the book.


Remember in The Twilight Zone when Burgess Meredith, with the bottle-bottom glasses, is tormented by everyone because he likes to read? He’s portrayed as unrealistic, while everyone else has common sense. The good fortune of surviving a bomb blast and finally having time to read becomes misfortune when he drops his glasses and can’t read. The subtle message was not to hide in the bank vault to read on your lunch break because you’ll survive the destruction of civilization, but you won’t enjoy it.


Movies, TV, and even books nowadays are telling us that books are dangerous.


Well, DUH! Books are about as close to the Vulcan mind meld as we’ll get for a long time (and quite frankly, I’m relieved because I don’t want to know what most of you are thinking, thanks very much). Books share and preserve for eternity what’s in our hearts and minds,—or for as long as paper lasts and there’s power for my Palm or Kindle or whatever your favorite e-reader format might be. Books encourage thinking and dreaming, and teach us by letting us live through others’ lives vicariously. What’s the first thing tyrants do when they take over a country? They censor books, ban books, burn books to control free thinking because people who read and think eventually act on what they’re thinking.


In Inkheart, fictional characters come to life. What irks me (besides that this book is translated from German—excuse me? Don’t we have enough writers in the U.S. struggling to get

published? You have to go to another dang country and import one of their books? Don’t we have protection for the arts in this country?) is that the writer of the book the villains escaped from is a moron! He’s delighted that his fictional villains have come out of the book. He wants to meet them! He’s fascinated with the idea of seeing them in action.


Talk about TSTL to the max.


He created them. He knows just how vicious and diabolical they are, and instead of being afraid, he’s a proud papa. Until he has to do some fast thinking to save his miserable neck. The warning that “Hey, if you kill your author, you might cease to exist” doesn’t slow the villains much. (Think about it: How many books do we have that are still being read decades, even centuries, after their authors died?)


Of course, the heroine of the day is the kid. (Shades of Wesley saves the Enterprise and Harry saves the wizarding world yet again.) Meggie inherited Mo’s ability to bring fictional characters to life by reading aloud from books, and she’s willing to experiment and try to do something to fight back. Without her encouragement, the silly old writer wouldn’t have had the courage to do what he should have done years ago—revise!


This movie starring Brendan Fraser (Mummy movies, George of the Jungle) is drastically changed from the book. I don’t know if I want to see the movie—after viewing the video trailer—because it enlarges on the message of Reading Is Dangerous for Your Health! (Think about those commercials for Internet TV in which Alec Baldwin is a space alien who wants your brain to turn to mush to make it easier for him to slurp it up.)


Two more books follow Inkheart, and I’m not certain I want to read the further misadventures of Meggie and Mo and their ability to make fiction into fact. Don’t we have politicians for that? Massive logic hole: Why not use this power to read good things into the world? Isn’t there a hero in the book who can beat Capricorn? Why not bring him out to fight? Mo is a wimp, keeping his gift a secret, and doesn’t do anything defensively except keep moving.


In all the years since Capricorn came into our world, why didn’t Mo do something? You know, the old “the best defense is a good offense” gambit? (Okay, there’s the problematic caveat that every time you read someone out of a book, something from our world goes into the book . . . but practice would have led to control, right?) Heroes who don’t do anything except run away aren’t heroic.


That bothers me even more than the “Reading Is Dangerous” message: The only one who is truly heroic is the kid, because she at least tries to save the day.