The Scarlet Pimpernel- Movie to Book Comparison

As I have just finished reading The Scarlet Pimpernel this morning (or what will most likely be yesterday morning by the time anyone reads this), I decided to do a brief (very brief) comparison of the movie and the book. (The 1982 movie version, of course.) Though, as I liked some things from the movie better than the book, and some things from the book better than the movie, I don't know if this will turn into a true comparison, or just my giving my opinions.

What I liked about the movie, which I saw first, was that they gave some of the background of Sir Percy and Marguerite, which is only briefly covered in the book. This obviously means they made some stuff up themselves, based off of the little information given in the text, but it works.
I also preferred the movie's version of how Chauvelin discovers the identity of the Scarlet Pimpernel. To me, the meeting in the library between The Scarlet Pimpernel and Marguerite was better than the bland dinner room scene in the book. Even with the discussion that happens after she and Sir Percy arrive home, it was so much better in the movie. Her telling him, without knowing it, everything that really happened, bringing him to finally forgive her. I loved it.

What I liked about the book was, first, that I did not get annoyed as easily with Sir Percy's personality. Perhaps this is because the book is almost all about Marguerite's part of the story, and we do not always see and hear Sir Percy? But I have to say I absolutely loved the book ending! From the moment Marguerite finds out who her husband really is, onward. I think it showed Marguerite's newly found love for Sir Percy much better- the fact that she would go through all those hardships to find her husband and ensure his safety speaks volumes more than the typical sword fight at the end of the movie with practically no sign on Marguerite's side of her new, fiercer love.

The toss-ups were these:
1. I don't know which plot line I preferred- the book's rescue of the Count de Tournay, or  the movie's rescue of the dauphin.
2. The fact that Sir Percy does not say "Sink me!" anywhere in the book! I didn't know whether to feel disappointed or triumphant in that fact. :-P (Hate me, if you will, but it did start to annoy me in the movie.)

Have any of you both seen and read? What do you think?

Authors Are Humans, Too- Elizabeth Rose Guest Post

Today I have the great pleasure of hosting Miss Elizabeth Rose of Living On Literary Lane while on her blog tour promoting her new book Violets Are Blue. She has honored our presence today through a guest post

Authors Are Humans, Too

pinterest

When I tell someone I'm writing a book, he or she approaches me with wonder and a slight bit of distance. Almost instantly, I am shelved in their mind as Untouchable. I'm writing a book; I couldn't possibly understand when they complain about the hard test in Chemistry. I'm writing a book; I probably finished my homework (and the extra credit assignment) a week before it was due. I'm writing a book; therefore, I'm different. 



The generally held opinion about authors is that we are born with some measure of genius surging through our veins. Somehow we managed to glean more intelligence, more creativity, more artistry than the average person. That formidable task called Writing a Book is kept on holy ground, and only the most fortunate of them are allowed to tread along its shores. And once you have written a book, your talent is doubled. Trivial diseases such as writer's block strike the unexperienced: whenever a true author sits down, golden words flow from his pen. He never lacks inspiration — why, it's practically served to him on a silver platter — and the whole word is straining to read his books the minute they hit the shelves. In a matter of minutes, this human being with a penchant for ink has turned into a demigod.



Let me tell you something, readers: that's simply not true. 


To be sure, I'm not exactly the dictionary definition of average. I prefer tea to coffee, pens and notebooks to company, I don't own an iPhone, and I'm not a huge fan of shopping malls. But when people at my tutorial think I (and all authors in general, for that matter) am perfect, I can't help but laugh hysterically. You should see me on the days when I stay up too late watching The Young Victoria and can barely drag myself out of bed. In those circumstances, my mind is consumed with the adorableness of Albert and Victoria, and whether or not I should have some toast with my breakfast. I certainly won't be offering up doses of authorly wisdom at the breakfast table, I assure you.



The average person enjoys the excuse that authors are more than human because it relieves him of any responsibility. If a writer possesses talent far beyond that of a typical human being, there's no hope for the rest of us. Writers are experts — that's why they craft stories so brilliantly. They were born to write literature that takes its reader's breath away, and the rest of us  just weren't. Therefore, we can't possibly be expected to produce such wonderful, poetic stories.



The truth is, budding writers are fearful. I say this with such certainty because I was once — and in many ways, still am — a new writer. We are scared to death of being compared to the greats and being found lacking. We worry we won't gain much interest or exposure. And our worst nightmare is being the author of that one book that sits in the library and collects dust while readers wait months just to get their hands on the latest bestseller.



What I had to learn over these past several years is that what I write is not going to be error-free. And that's all right. It will take many years for my writing to reach the height at which I want it to be; I may never attain it. But I still keep writing. Because, at the heart of it, I don't write because I want to be featured on talk shows and become fabulously wealthy (though I certainly wouldn't mind that). I write because I love it. I love the smell of ink. I love meeting characters that become my new best friends. I love the icy rush that crashes over me when I've written something that feels wonderful. And I'm certainly not perfect. I procrastinate way more than I should (right now, I really need to be folding those delicates). I write chapters that horrify me a few days later. It's all a part of the writing process.



Unfortunately, you can't possibly know this unless you actually start writing. Tie a weight around your fear and toss it into the sea (let's just hope there aren't any smugglers nearby to rescue it). Sharpen your pencils, shut down the Internet, and don your scribbling suit. Your writing will not be perfect at the start, but it will improve with time. And most important of all, it will be yours.

. . .

Elizabeth Rose is a follower of the Most High who seeks to live every day of her life in accordance with 1 Corinthians 10:31. She loves all sorts of books (the thicker the better), is convinced that Irish Breakfast tea is the closest thing this world will get to heaven, dances until her feet ache, stays up until all hours writing, wears pearls at every opportunity, and obsesses over Les Misérables and The Scarlet Pimpernel. In May 2012, she self-published her first book, Violets Are Blue. You can find her on Literary Lane, most likely with The Count of Monte Cristo in hand, and ink on her fingers. 

Without The Classics- A Literary Testimony

(WARNING: I ramble :-P )

Can you imagine what it would be like to grow up without the classics?
I can. It just hit me the other day that I really did not grow up surrounded by them like many I know here in the blogsphere. Before you think I was raised in a completely ignorant home, let me amend my statement a little. I was not completely without any classics in our house, but the ones we did own fell into three categories: 1. Children's Classics, 2. Fantasy Classics, 3. Science Fiction Classics. I know many of the books we had could be counted into all three categories.
We had The Chronicles of Narnia, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Secret Garden, The Wizard of Oz, Journey to the Center of The Earth, The Princess and The Goblin, The Princess and Curdie, At The Back of the North Wind, Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and (the only one I cannot place in one of those three categories) Daddy Long Legs.
As you can see, I can name them off rather easily- I did not look at anything to remember.

There was no Dickens, no Bronte, no Austen, no Elliot, no Scott, no Gaskell- not even Shakespeare! Though, we did later acquire the Anne of Green Gables series and A Little Princess.
It was not because my parents did not approve of those authors and books- on the contrary! But they themselves had not really grown up reading them, so they did not hold much interest in buying and reading them as we were growing up. I am really rather sorry for that fact. In a way, I wish they had so I would have gotten into reading those wonderful works much sooner than I did.

I didn't even read any Alcott until I was in junior high, and I did not even try venturing beyond her books and the Anne books until high school. (Okay, I also admit, I have the t.v. series Wishbone, which came out when I was in junior high, to thank for really starting to spark my interest in eventually checking out the classics)
The first true non-children's classic I actually ever read was Jane Eyre, and I was in high school. I read it after seeing both the 1940's movie starring Orson Welles and the 1983 BBC production starring Zelah Clarke and Timothy Dalton. We bought it in between those viewings at a home school book fair, along with The Hound of The Baskervilles, Robin Hood, and The Oddessey. (More classics!) And it was my sister reading it first, along with the first movie that sparked my interest in trying it. However, my first attempt was a failure. I didn't get beyond the first few pages. But after I saw the BBC production, which my sister had bought, I was sparked to read the whole thing, and this time I got through it! Unfortunately, I still tended to refuse to expand my literary horizons to more classics. While my sister continued on to include Austen with the modern books in her reading list, I stuck with Alcott and Burnette (and the original Elsie Dinsmore books) and modern books. I was of that unfortunate persuasion who thought Austen must be dull. How wrong I was! And how much I stunted my own literary growth! I was proud of my accomplishment in reading Jane Eyre, but I thought that was enough as I had not the regular encouragement to read more classics. Of course I had some classics in my high school literature courses, but the fact that I was forced to read them, and I found them dull, did not help encourage me either.

It was not until I was not only out of high school, but after I had graduated from Bible school (and I did read The Phantom of the Opera while I was there) as well that I finally found out how wrong I really was.
When I had joined at The Lion's Call, a Narnia fan site where I am now staff, I found so many others talking about all these great BBC period dramas based off of the classics, and I had to check them out! Yes, period dramas saved my literary life! It  is they who sparked my interest a few years ago in finally reading all the classics I can get my hands on! And I think I have done somewhat well- though I still have far to go. Of course, I had to start with Austen, and I am happy to admit she is wonderful! For a few years now, I have been a great fan, and have expanded even further. So, while I do tend to read modern books the most, I have a couple Dickens books under my belt and a few others and I'm reading more classics all the time. I am currently working on The Scarlet Pimpernel.

So, my friends, if I am unable to place something out of the classics or am lost about a book, do not worry, I am learning! And I am doing my best to catch up on the period dramas, too. I'm loving every minute of it. :-)