Pride, Prejudice, Zombies, and Disappointment

I like zombies. And while some would be surprised to hear me admit it, I like Pride and Prejudice (the book, not the absurd six-hour BBC miniseries).

So, when I heard about "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies," I added it to my literary to-do list. And promptly forgot about it. The premise seemed good, but I was reading Bram Stoker's Dracula at the time, and there's no competing with that for a little light reading about the dead walking the 17th century earth, despite the subsequent release of sister titles like "Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters," "Jane Slayre," and the one with the title that reads like a bad screenplay pitch, "The War of the Worlds Plus Blood, Guts, and Zombies."

Last weekend, a friend lent me "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" since she was bored with it, and having gotten through about fifteen chapters, I can say that the last title really sums up the premise of these books. Take a literary classic, add a dash of flesh-eating mutants, splash a little gore on the cover.

This was the first, and ultimately, critical problem for me. The zombies were slapped as carelessly into the narrative as they were to the title, and I could summarize the entire thing as "classic Jane Austen, and oh, by the way, zombies," ad nauseum. You read through a few of Austen's original lines only to be jolted out of context by some egregious mention of the undead, referred to in the book as the unmentionables. It was hard enough for me to deal with being abruptly reminded every few moments that the period-appropriate settings and behaviors were subject to the absence of the zombies in that particular scene; I didn't need to be confused at every turn as to whether I was reading about a bunch of marriage-happy Regency women, a plague of flesh-eaters, or a pair of underpants. Terminology aside, each mention of the zombies was as out of place in the book as a Chuck Norris would be in a dress - which is the basic premise, considering a sentence hardly passes without the additive author telling us that the heroines are masters of "the deadly arts" and remarking on their training in the Orient and their skill with a blade or a roundhouse kick. There is no attempt whatsoever to introduce a plot by which the inclusion of zombies alters the original tale; in fact, it sometimes introduces fallacies into whatever there is of a plot. One such case has Elizabeth Bennet refusing to join Darcy and the Bingley sisters for an afternoon stroll because the path they are to take is infested with people who would like to eat their brains; why, then, is the seemingly genre-savvy Darcy intent on taking that path? If the premise of classic British literature with zombies appeals to you, give your 12-year old brother your copy of "Pride and Prejudice" and have him draw a bunch of necrotic gore in the margins to similar effect.

The second problem I had with the book, which didn't really affect my decision to read it, or to quit reading it shortly after, was Twilight. Yes, I know that bitching about Twilight is nearly as bad as Twilight itself these days, but there's a point. Twilight spawns an interest in young adult novels about the undead and other creatures of legend, reimagined as romantic protagonists and providing, supposedly, for interesting undead character studies. Of course, it's trash, causing many people to vehemently disdain Twilight. Of course, these naysayers aren't immune to the lure of the literary undead, but since they can't be seen dead with a copy of "New Moon," and they can't be bothered to actually write a worthwhile piece in that vein, they slap some rotting corpses into what used to be respectable books and call it a day. Our cultural standards just slipped a little lower into the murk of blood n' glitter... which, by the way, is probably going to be a Ke$ha stage-look sometime soon.

Ultimately, reading "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" just made me want to read "Pride and Prejudice" and watch "Shaun of the Dead," and thank my lucky stars that those are two entirely separate works of fiction.

Party Like It's 1999

First things first: I hate the 80's. The cultural inundation of skinny jeans and day-glo geometry has given me constant nightmares of a dystopian future of neon body art and seizure-inducing music videos.

Not to mention the hipster version: mustaches, aviators, and mullets. Seriously, let's leave that alone entirely.

So, imagine my joy when I heard Usher and Will.i.am's OMG on the radio. Yeah, the glaring reference to AIM-speak was kind of painful at first. But a few moments into the song comes, not quite a sample, but a reference to a 90's remix of a funk favorite called "Love You Down," which happens to be on heavy rotation at the local roller rink. The video of the INOJ version of the song is deliciously 90's, and I hope it's a sign that the 80's mania is on its way out.

*Note: let's take the 80's to include the first two years of the 90's... it was kind of a rough transition.



Granted, it's pretty sad when instead of original style, we're just recycling our parent's parachute pants. And when song titles could be half-assed text messages, and when the denim era seems to be an improvement on pop culture. But, it's definitely the lesser of two evils, and there's always Lady Gaga to make things fresh for us (or, to make a fresh place for latex on the surface of society rather than the margins). Plus, I like the thought that the Pussycat Dolls are just newer, sluttier Spice Girls (horrible person, right?).

Additionally, I'm giving thanks that my favorite decade hasn't been wholesaled into modern fashion (not that I think the 1920's are up for a reboot anytime soon; zoot suits and drop-waists are tough styles to sport).

I eagerly await the advent of the 1990's.