8 December 1982

I've always been much more interested in character driven stories than by any others. I could watch a great movie, for example, where nothing ever happens if the characters are interesting enough. I think most plot devices used in mainstream movies are cliche' anyway-and unless the characters are truly human, and shine through these ridiculous stunts the writers are trying to pull, I lose interest. For example, the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith. As far as I'm concerned, that movie was about Brangolina. Or the new movie Marley and Me. The book was not excellent by any means, but it was mildly diverting, and sometimes cute. The movie, on the other hand, is about Jennifer Anniston (who plays the exact same character in every role. She has the range of a 2x4), and Owen Wilson. The book was about a dog. Anyway, I just named two of the worst movies made in the last ten years. Perhaps I am being unfair.

It's the same for my taste in books. I could read The Idiot and The Brothers Karamazov repeatedly for the rest of my life and be completely satisfied. Each book takes its time with each character that it introduces, and the plot is only there to provide reference for the characters and what they are going through.

I like the intense intimacy of spending that much time falling in love (or hate) with characters. It's not just that I get to be inside of them, but they get inside of me too. I am changed with them.

I think comedy too-the really good stuff, the important comedy is very character driven as well.

I think I have always been this way, but there is one movie that really stands out to me as the one that introduced me to this concept. I was eleven when it came out-perhaps a wee too young to be so serious. But I was an odd child. I was the youngest of ten kids, all of whom had grown up and moved out by the time I was six. So I was surrounded by adults most of the time. I was precocious and yes-I was WAY too serious. At any rate, when I was eleven I saw the first movie that made me the movie watcher/ book reader that I still am today.

It was Sophie's Choice. Yes-again-way too young to watch such a serious movie-but what can I do? I saw it, and I fell in love with Meryl Streep and Kevin Klein. I thought they were the most beautiful two people that ever existed. I wanted to be Stinko. I hope my child does not ever have such a dreadful aspiration. I want her to watch Tank Girl and aspire to that, for the LOVE OF GOD! Or at the very least aspire to be Hilary Swank in Million Dollar Baby (if my child must be serious-and I could hope for her to be more playful than I was, and do my best, but she will be who she will be and all I can do is guide her a bit).

It's way too easy to dismiss Sophie as being vulnerable and in need of rescue. That's what Stinko did, and I think it isn't until the very end that he finally understands that Sophie did not need to be saved. Sophie knew exactly what she was doing and she knew why. And therein lies her longevity as a character, her originality, and what made her one of my all time favorite literary characters. Although she probably wasn't completely cognizant of all that was transpiring between her and Nathan, she understood what it meant as it came. She knew that Nathan was the last man she would love, whether she had the language for that or not. She also knew that in her own way she was rescuing Nathan from his demons.

And that is why I adored Stinko so much. I often felt like I was watching relationships unfold before me that I often did not understand-being a child surrounded by adults. I heard secrets, or at least I understood that there were secrets around me, but I never was able to fully grasp their meaning. Stingo had gone to New York to find out what those secrets were, and was given only a glimpse and had to decipher the rest.

That was my first experience with characters that were so messy and human that what they did made almost no sense at all. Nathan and Sophie's love for each other was so utterly destructive (to the point that my writing that sentence seems redundant), yet they brought a joy to each other that was immeasurable.

And on a much lighter note, Sophie's Choice was also when I decided that Carrie Fisher was not nearly as gorgeous as Meryl Streep. I felt as though I had made some huge step in my transition from little girl to woman when I made this discovery. Not only was Meryl Streep hotter, so was Kevin Klein. I was now in love with a whole different caliber of people! And that had to mean that I was growing up (I also blame this movie for my series of terribly ridiculous and impossible relationships in early adulthood)!