Scan barcode
dezthereader's review against another edition
dark
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
rjbs's review
I don't even know what to say about this. It was an interesting idea, and plenty of things in the book were interesting as ideas. In parts of the book, the interplay of the viewpoint and the book's theme fundamental breakdown in semantic processing was very well done.
But mostly I thought this was kind of a wreck, and parts of it felt like they were intended to scandalize.
I thought the film was good, though.
But mostly I thought this was kind of a wreck, and parts of it felt like they were intended to scandalize.
I thought the film was good, though.
takecoverbooksptbo's review
5.0
Pontypool Changes Everyting defies definition in a lot of ways. One of the biggest complaints that gets leveed against it (at least by people that I know) is that it is supposed to be a book about a zombie outbreak and, yet, the zombies in the book are more conceptual than literal. It is difficult to feel afraid of the zombies. But the novel's abstraction is its greatest strength because, at its core, it is a indefatigably complex horror novel.
The scariness in Pontypool Changes Everything (which, especially in a book like this, should be separated from its horror elements) stems from the virus itself. The idea that a lethal contagion could spread through language is unbelievably terrifying, mostly because the virus can be spread through the act of telling somebody not to speak (and therefore spread the virus). The fright of a disease that cannot be cured because it disposes with communication is insurmountable in the novel. This is why the book immediately interrupts its own intelligibility. The book, through a great and absolutely-not-heavy-handed metafictional turn, is infected with the very disease that infects its subjects. It lacks the ability to communicate and rages at the reader because of that incommunicability. Consequently, the destruction that the virus produces is total, which brings to mind my second point.
The arbitrary violence that the disease produces in people is shocking. The fright may not come from the zombie attack, but the novel, through the ingenious device of giving the reader a glimpse into the mind of the infected, adds terror by showing how the infected people transform from relatively high-functioning individuals to snarling murderers. The manifestation of the violence in the novel is completely untempered. Once the first zombie enters the story, the gore piles up. This is, without a doubt, the most horrific book I have ever read. From images of patients being liquified under a crush of people at a local doctor's office to scenes where a father administering painkillers to his drug-addicted infant son to simply stop the boy from going into withdrawal, from passages depicting a TV news anchor engaging in forced pan-sexual intercourse with his interns to the dreamlike moments wherein a brother and sister subsist on zombie meat and eventually copulate and produce a zombie baby, the book is full of imagery and complex symbolism that is hauntingly disturbing and, sometimes, shockingly hilarious. The extremity of the horror in the novel never feels over-the-top, however, because the story is about what people do to one another and what people are capable of when their minds are pushed to the extremities of aphasic rage. The books is also not simple-minded, and does not make the zombies the solely evil presence in the story. People are equally responsible for horrific deeds, and it is the relentless depiction of human depravity that makes the book difficult to get through.
But just because it is difficult does not mean it is not worthwhile. The novel contains beautifully written passages that would be a wonder for anybody interested in the written word. Furthermore, Burgess makes the reader painfully aware of the beauty of Ontario's northern regions while, simultaneously, showing the depravity of the people who live there. Structurally, the novel is divided into two vexing parts: Autobiography and Novel. The play of fiction and nonfiction is difficult, especially because the events in both parts are unrealistic. The dipartite form gestures toward the complex nature of the human mind's ability to understand things. Basically, humans need to know whether something is real or fake. This fundamental categorization of events is the foundation for the rest of our understanding. By depriving readers of this basic understanding between factual and fictional, Burgess makes the story much more unsettling and destabilizing. Did language really cause people to kill and eat each other in Pontypool? The reader is left to decide.
Pontypool Changes Everything is complex to the core, but this makes it fun and unpredictable. Many of the shocks and scares are incredibly surprising, and the story also contains touching and heartbreaking moments of desperate intimacy between people that are simply going to die. The deadly fatalism of the story makes it one for contemplation. From the outset, it is known that many characters will not make it out of the book alive. Like viewers watching Hitchcock's "Psycho" for the first time and seeing Janet Leigh get killed in the first third of the film, the reader of Pontypool will desperately grasp for characters and subjectivities to latch on to. But there are none to be had. Instead, the reader looks for why humanity is killing itself and how a human invention such as language can infect the brain. It is a book that has especial relevance now, with the ever-present manipulation of images and events by news networks. The corruptibility of language and the human mind is the main focus of the story, which is both entertaining and enlightening.
I imagine a lot of readers will hear the concept of the book (Zombies are infected through language?!?!) and be put off by its apparent lack of believability. But to those readers who say that, I question the validity of any zombie virus -- can radiation REALLY produce the zombies that crop up in Romero's (and many of his imitator's) films? are the zombies in 28 Days Later REALLY just infected with rage? does the Necronomicon in Evil Dead REALLY just raise the dead through the utterance of its ritualistic passages? By bringing these works up, I do not mean to disparage the efforts of their creators. Instead, I intend to point out the intrinsic flimsiness of the zombie-horror genre. And yet, the genre is thrilling and thought-provoking. If you cannot suspend your disbelief with this book, then you do not deserve Pontypool Changes Everything.
The scariness in Pontypool Changes Everything (which, especially in a book like this, should be separated from its horror elements) stems from the virus itself. The idea that a lethal contagion could spread through language is unbelievably terrifying, mostly because the virus can be spread through the act of telling somebody not to speak (and therefore spread the virus). The fright of a disease that cannot be cured because it disposes with communication is insurmountable in the novel. This is why the book immediately interrupts its own intelligibility. The book, through a great and absolutely-not-heavy-handed metafictional turn, is infected with the very disease that infects its subjects. It lacks the ability to communicate and rages at the reader because of that incommunicability. Consequently, the destruction that the virus produces is total, which brings to mind my second point.
The arbitrary violence that the disease produces in people is shocking. The fright may not come from the zombie attack, but the novel, through the ingenious device of giving the reader a glimpse into the mind of the infected, adds terror by showing how the infected people transform from relatively high-functioning individuals to snarling murderers. The manifestation of the violence in the novel is completely untempered. Once the first zombie enters the story, the gore piles up. This is, without a doubt, the most horrific book I have ever read. From images of patients being liquified under a crush of people at a local doctor's office to scenes where a father administering painkillers to his drug-addicted infant son to simply stop the boy from going into withdrawal, from passages depicting a TV news anchor engaging in forced pan-sexual intercourse with his interns to the dreamlike moments wherein a brother and sister subsist on zombie meat and eventually copulate and produce a zombie baby, the book is full of imagery and complex symbolism that is hauntingly disturbing and, sometimes, shockingly hilarious. The extremity of the horror in the novel never feels over-the-top, however, because the story is about what people do to one another and what people are capable of when their minds are pushed to the extremities of aphasic rage. The books is also not simple-minded, and does not make the zombies the solely evil presence in the story. People are equally responsible for horrific deeds, and it is the relentless depiction of human depravity that makes the book difficult to get through.
But just because it is difficult does not mean it is not worthwhile. The novel contains beautifully written passages that would be a wonder for anybody interested in the written word. Furthermore, Burgess makes the reader painfully aware of the beauty of Ontario's northern regions while, simultaneously, showing the depravity of the people who live there. Structurally, the novel is divided into two vexing parts: Autobiography and Novel. The play of fiction and nonfiction is difficult, especially because the events in both parts are unrealistic. The dipartite form gestures toward the complex nature of the human mind's ability to understand things. Basically, humans need to know whether something is real or fake. This fundamental categorization of events is the foundation for the rest of our understanding. By depriving readers of this basic understanding between factual and fictional, Burgess makes the story much more unsettling and destabilizing. Did language really cause people to kill and eat each other in Pontypool? The reader is left to decide.
Pontypool Changes Everything is complex to the core, but this makes it fun and unpredictable. Many of the shocks and scares are incredibly surprising, and the story also contains touching and heartbreaking moments of desperate intimacy between people that are simply going to die. The deadly fatalism of the story makes it one for contemplation. From the outset, it is known that many characters will not make it out of the book alive. Like viewers watching Hitchcock's "Psycho" for the first time and seeing Janet Leigh get killed in the first third of the film, the reader of Pontypool will desperately grasp for characters and subjectivities to latch on to. But there are none to be had. Instead, the reader looks for why humanity is killing itself and how a human invention such as language can infect the brain. It is a book that has especial relevance now, with the ever-present manipulation of images and events by news networks. The corruptibility of language and the human mind is the main focus of the story, which is both entertaining and enlightening.
I imagine a lot of readers will hear the concept of the book (Zombies are infected through language?!?!) and be put off by its apparent lack of believability. But to those readers who say that, I question the validity of any zombie virus -- can radiation REALLY produce the zombies that crop up in Romero's (and many of his imitator's) films? are the zombies in 28 Days Later REALLY just infected with rage? does the Necronomicon in Evil Dead REALLY just raise the dead through the utterance of its ritualistic passages? By bringing these works up, I do not mean to disparage the efforts of their creators. Instead, I intend to point out the intrinsic flimsiness of the zombie-horror genre. And yet, the genre is thrilling and thought-provoking. If you cannot suspend your disbelief with this book, then you do not deserve Pontypool Changes Everything.
hisghoulfriday's review against another edition
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
2.0
lawacha's review against another edition
challenging
dark
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
moonlit_shelves's review against another edition
dark
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
2.0
melanie_page's review against another edition
challenging
dark
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
5.0
I just loved it.
raoulgonzo's review
challenging
dark
mysterious
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.5
david_agranoff's review
2.0
I discovered this novel from watching the film based loosely on the novel. The film Pontypool was released a few years back and quickly gained a rep for being a well written and composed low budget zombie film. When I saw it I thought it was a creative spin on the tired genre, most interesting at it's core was a original concept of the the zombie virus being transferred not by blood or bites but trhough human language. I was interested in novel because it was written by Burgess who also wrote the screen, and during the commentary track he said the novel had a larger scope.
Probably due to it's thin budget the movie takes place at a small radio station in Ontario, and focuses on the main character an aging former shock jock named Grant Mazzy. Mazzy keeping his career alive by doing weather reports on backwater radio. The film gets a lot of of it's rich tones by Stephen McHattie's performance as Mazzy. Since the setting is confined mostly to the station the actors have to carry a lot of the story. It's a character driven horror film, that manages to transcend it's budget like a lot of great low budget horror films.
So I was excited by the idea of reading the book. This is a rare case where I think the movie is a lot better than the source material. They are very, very different stories and while they share Grant Mazzy as a main character and plot device the novel lacks the vivid strength of character which drove the film.
Burgess is an excellent wordsmith, I can honestly say it's some of the smoothest and interesting prose I have read in a long time. That being said writing pretty paragraphs and telling a good story are two totally different things. I spent a lot of my time reading this novel confused, and according to some of the online reviews I was wasn't alone.
I don't mind being confused if the story is exciting and it's important that the confusion is paid off with answers. There are some intense and powerful moments in this book that's why I kept reading even though I was often frustrated and confused by the lack of clear narrative. Since the zombie outbreak is transferred through the language there are some very well composed moments of suspense that happen inside the mind of the infected. I also enjoyed the moments where some characters tried hard not speak at all.
This novel is clever, perhaps a bit to clever for it's own good. Could the novel itself spiral into maddess of disrupted language like the victims in the story. Maybe, but I didn't really see that either. It's an interesting experiment, one I don't think worked. I'll admit many I didn't get it, but I am a pretty savvy reader, who has personally played with experimental narratives, so if I don't get it then it is a good chance most readers will be lost.
So here is the hard part for me, I respect the well written inventive prose but can't make much sense of the story. This made the book a slog, and I can't say I enjoyed much of it. The movie expressed the idea in a more clearly, and succeded as a story.