The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

When I first started reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski, I immediately sat down to write A Hamlet Story. What does it mean when you know that something is supposed to be a Hamlet story? How close will it echo the plot? Will all the characters be there, will the ending be the same?

I think that I’ve been so long immersed in kid-friendly versions of kid-friendly stories that I’d forgotten that it’s possible to do what Wroblewski’s done. This entirely new story doesn’t just help itself to the “son avenges father’s murder” idea and call it a day – it tracks nearly everything, and then some. It answers questions that Hamlet never answered. I loved it.

I know that Bardfilm reviewed this book as well, briefly, and chose not to divulge any of the plot at all. So stop here if you prefer that style of review, because I’m going to give you at least a little bit.

This is the story of the Sawtelle family, and more specifically the “Sawtelle dogs”. For generations the family has bred dogs that are unlike any other in the world. Nobody can explain why, exactly – not even the Sawtelles. But you know it when you see it.

The story starts out pretty far removed from anything resembling Hamlet, which confused me. A grandfather here, a soldier over there, a miscarriage scattered in for good measure. With every character I found myself asking, “Now, is that Hamlet? Hamlet’s father? Laertes?” It was like reading one of those books that retells Romeo and Juliet, only several generations prior. *Eventually* you find a character you recognize, and then everything else falls into place. So it is with this one. One character walks in, one unmistakably named character, and the lightbulb goes on. Oh, I see, now the entire family tree is laid out for me. I love it.

Wroblewski’s creativity doesn’t stop there. I find myself surprised by what I’m about to say, given his source material, but it’s like he adds another dimension to Hamlet.

Examples?

The Sawtelle family raises dogs, as I mentioned. Special dogs. In fact, not only does Edgar speak to the dogs, it is made quite clear that the dogs understand what he’s talking about. So the dogs are characters in the story, and you may easily discover that Laertes is actually canine. (* He’s not. I’m not giving anything away.)

Second, The story is told from multiple points of view. Edgar tells some. But then turn the page and it’s his mother’s turn to tell the same portion of the story. Think about that, oh ye Hamlet fans. For how many years have we yearned to know what exactly Gertrude was thinking? Why she went with Claudius? Or, for that matter, what exactly Claudius was thinking? What was his relationship with his brother? This is where the parallel universe comes in. We don’t get to know what Shakespeare’s Gertrude was thinking, but at least we’ll get a glimpse into the mind of Wroblewski’s doppleganger for her.

Combine all these things and you get something whose sum is greater than its parts. It is Hamlet, plus parts of Hamlet we always wanted. Plus completely original things. When you feel something, you have no idea if you should give credit to Shakespeare for starting it, or Wroblewski for the way he tells it.

There is a part, in any good production of Romeo and Juliet (bear with me), where you know beyond a shadow of a doubt what is going to happen, and yet you’re still on the edge of your chair muttering Oh god, oh god, hurry, get there faster…. That’s why it is genius. Shakespeare started out the story by saying “See those two? They’re going to die.” And before two-hours’ stage traffic is complete you manage to feel so much for them that, once you remember again that they’re doomed, you desperately want that not to be true.

Such was the case with this book. I started it wondering whether there was even an Ophelia character in the story. Once I discovered the answer to my question, all I can say is I know what the phrase “hit me like a ton of bricks” means now. Who knows, you may spot it immediately. You may have your own moments. The book is full of them, and that’s the great part.

How does it end? Does it have the same body count? How pray tell does the story of murder among Danish nobles play out in a modern story? You don’t just run around killing each other during duels, after all. And I’m not saying. 🙂

Highly, highly recommended. Nobody sent me a copy of this one, I sought it out as one of the first books to put on my Kindle.

Puzzle Contest Over

Hi Everybody,
Just quick note to say that my puzzle book contest has ended, and winners have been notified. Please remember to check your email if you did enter, I’d hate for your winning confirmation to end up in the spam bucket.
Everyone who played got the right answer (“Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.” – Caliban, The Tempest), so all three books were distributed at random among the winning entries. I guess I made the puzzle too easy? Watch out for next time!
Thanks to everybody for playing. I hope to have more giveaways soon.

Last Chance to Enter!

Just a reminder that end of today marks the close of my Pocket Posh Shakespeare Puzzles Giveaway, so enter now if you haven’t already! I’m giving away 3 books, one of which is even set aside for someone who does *not* solve the puzzle correctly – so don’t let that stop you! (Hint hint giant hint, everybody who has entered thus far has solved the puzzle, I guess I made it too easy. But what that means is that if you haven’t entered yet you could deliberately tank your solution and actually improve your odds of getting a book! )

Sir Laurence Olivier as Orlando, in As You Like It, in 1937

I love when I find things. I had no idea that Sir Laurence Olivier’s first Shakespearean role was Orlando in As You Like It. I think there’s probably a debate about that claim – do we mean his first filmed role? – but either way, thanks Amazon!
I absolutely love some of the perspective that time brings (this being 1937!):
* Sir Laurence is listed as nothing more than “with Laurence Olivier”, among others. Not even a starring role.
* The “treatment suggested by” J. M. Barrie, author of Peter Pan. Barrie died in 1937, so I’m not sure whether this movie came out while he was still alive or if that credit was in honor of his contribution.
Unfortunately, the 2 minute free preview is all credits, we don’t get to see Olivier at all. I think I’ll probably rent this, I’m just going to avoid it for now because I’m at work and if I do hit the button I won’t be able to stop myself from watching it at my desk :).

Gonzo Shakespeare, and Steve Jobs’ Dream

When Steve Jobs introduced the iPad2 last week, all the demos were about art and video and music, and how they were using technology to put all this creative power into the hands of everyone. He even had a great quote on the subject:

It’s in Apple’s DNA that technology alone is not enough. That it’s technology married with liberal arts, married with the humanities, that yields us the result that makes our hearts sing. And, nowhere is that more true than in these post-PC devices.

Why it took me until now to click with that, I have no idea.

Let’s talk about what this means for Shakespeare.

This new device has two cameras, right? Front and back-facing? Great. I challenge my geeks out there to produce some Shakespeare on an iPad2. Just imagine Hamlet from the point of the view of Hamlet. When he’s talking to Claudius? He’s holding up the iPad and filming Claudius. When he’s performing a soliloquy? Use the other camera, and speak into it like you’re on a webcam.

Or who knows, maybe it doesn’t have to be entirely in first person – maybe Claudius and Polonius are holding the camera when they spy on Hamlet and Ophelia – and you can hear, rather than see, them commenting on the scene. Imagine what you could do with special effects. Imagine how to do the ghost scenes. The possibilities are *amazing*.

Now distribute it online, so that people are playing it using almost the exact same medium with which is was created. Brings a whole new meaning to the idea of immersive experience, I’d say.

Somebody make this. Everyone who says that film and theatre are forever two entirely different beasts, this is your challenge to produce a third form that bridges the two.

You *know* that this is going to happen. The questions are entirely Who? and When? Tell me why the answers can’t be “Us” and “Now.”