To describe Watchmen in one sentence: imagine that you are falling deeper and deeper into a well, and as time passes you start becoming more desperate, losing hope. Then, all of a sudden you wake up and realize it was all a dream, but then you realize you need to get ready for a long day of work ahead and wish you were — well, back in the well. (No apologies for the pun; deal with it. And yes, I know I used two sentences instead of one.)

To put it in more meaningful terms, the story starts with a gloomy backdrop where it seems like the world is starting to fall apart, with nostalgic yet rosy scenes from the past being the standard to compare present day against. From there, it proceeds into darker territory, with a violent and strangely compelling narration “on the side” to set the appropriate mood. It eventually climaxes in what I would term a “moral muddle” — a situation where there’s no “right thing to do” and every avenue leaves the reader with a bad taste in the mouth. Being powerless as a silent audience doesn’t help much, either.

Of all the characters, Rorschach is portrayed as the most controversial, and yet, he is, in my opinion, the most straightforward, courageous and honest superhero in the story. It is said that Rorschach sees the world in black and white, but I disagree. The whole argument for accepting “shades of gray” stems from the fact that people think differently and believe differently; it does not preclude an individual from having absolute personal opinions. From that point of view, Rorschach has certain principles that he always stands by, and he takes it upon himself to “save the world” as he sees fit.

Dr. Manhattan, the only real superhero, is an enigma of sorts, because the novel hints that it is impossible to truly understand his point-of-view until we see time and events the way he does, connected in a single, complex and intricate pattern. Even so, I would have respected his indifference towards humanity if he had shown the same indifference towards the rest of Universe (including Mars). That human life and humanity in general is pointless is a perfectly sound argument (see Note 1), but valuing dust storms on Mars over human life, or billions of years over thousands is not an argument I am willing to consider without justification.

In an odd twist, Dr. Manhattan’s position also subtly points out that real power is to have the strength without having to actually use it. Having to use it would mean that you are a slave to that power, and (unless you are omnipotent) you are likely to eventually find yourself in a situation where your opponent cannot be destroyed by any power that you possess.

In conclusion — find some time to read the book.

Note 1: People tend to believe that it is their moral obligation to convince others that human life is not pointless, or that the argument in its favor is somehow taboo. I find it perfectly reasonable for one to agree that human life is pointless, but move on and be happy nevertheless.

Despite the religious symbolism (among other things) that has been attributed to the story, Hemingway’s novella is, at heart, a simple fable — a statement of facts you might say. While in real life facts may be hidden from view, in this fictional world, they stand out in plain view, naked and unforgiving. It is the simplicity that makes the greatest impression on the reader — when the author says, “The Sun rose in the East today -” one is forced to look for metaphors, like a Roscharch test of literature. What did he mean by that? Is that all there is to it?

With lessons of endurance and a dab of innocence, The Old Man and the Sea is a refreshingly beautiful Sunday afternoon read.

The narration begins with the background stories of a variety of characters, each extraordinary in his or her own way. Chance brings them together and they set out on a journey through Europe and Africa, in the search of meaning to their lives. Eventually, their journey is seen to be a spiritual transformation, rather than a mere exploration of places and people.

The appeal of this novel may be different for each kind of audience. The passage of time gives the current reader the benefit of hindsight; there are problems and problems, but will there ever be solutions in sight? The diverse group portrayed in this novel also raises the interesting question of allegiance — when it comes to the ‘crunch’, who will side with whom? If we can take away an important lesson from this novel, it is that the world as we know it today is the result of the choices made long ago: will we make the right choices today?

This theme of society and choice always lingers somewhere in the background, never quite raising its head until the very end. Until then, the author treats us to a world of excitement, rituals, sex and drugs, a world always in motion.

The reader will soon realize that the events in the story are immaterial. In fact, events are an interruption to the flow of thought, and it is through this flow that the reader becomes a part of the fantasy world. The characters themselves are more important than what they do, for what they do is a mere reflection of their state of mind at that instant. Understanding the characters is the important thing; all else is secondary.

Woolf makes this task of understanding easy, by flitting from one character’s mind to the other. Every fleeting moment stretches across minutes, and every thought lingers for sometime on an object, and then makes its way through deeper roads. Everything is connected to the past, and the past is, in a way, more real than the present itself.

The style of writing needs some getting used to. There is nothing linear about a person’s thoughts, and this non-linearity is reflected in the writing. To keep track of what is going on requires a good deal of effort.

In the copy that I had borrowed from the library, somebody had scrawled after the last line of the book -

“All these people only feel, feel, feel, but do nothing.”

- which was right, of course! Woolf coaxes the reader to live the story, become a part of it, and transform the ordinary into the extraordinary.

The plot revolves around a young man who comes across a couple of million in cash thanks to a drug deal gone bad — and decides to keep it. There is little time to ponder upon the morality of his choices, and time is running out for regrets.

I would give this novel a rating of 4 out of 5, a book that should definitely be added to the reading list.

It’s not really a story that attempts to get somewhere; it meanders into unknown territory like Alice in Wonderland, and occasionally forgets its destination, but at the end of the day, the destination doesn’t really matter — the jokes along the way do.

Like many other sci-fi books, the Hitchhiker’s Guide introduces a lot of jargon, but here, it’s not essential to remember the terms in order to comprehend the plot, so it makes things easier for the reader.

One aspect of the book that I’m thankful about is that there’s no waking-up-from-the-dream kind of ending, which would have been a terrible disaster. Something like that happened in Josh Kirby: Time Warrior, in which it turns out that the whole story was part of a dream. It happened in Alice In Wonderland too, of course, but that didn’t seem very disappointing.