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Several times throughout my life, I have found myself deliberating over what makes a decent book-to-film adaptation and the answer I’ve come to discover is disheartening to say the least. For decades now, the Hollywood industry has thrived on translating novels on screen, as a means of resurrecting them, meanwhile quite frankly achieving the complete opposite.
I’ll never forget the disappointment I felt after having witnessed the detrimental effects of World War II through a naïve eight year-old’s eyes on paper, only to have it completely ridiculed and understated on screen. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, written by Irish novelist John Boyne, tastefully conveys what the Holocaust appeared like to the naïve son of a German concentration camp General. It is in the little boy’s uncomprehending shoes that we walk through the streets of “Out-With,” mentally correcting his fairy tale view on things throughout.
Throughout the novel, we as Holocaust-conscious readers are able to recognize the eight-year-old’s surroundings, even when he isn’t; we know that the ‘farm’ that he so often refers to in the novel is not in fact a farm at all (which is in itself both poetic in a way, given concentration camps were places in which Jews were unquestionably treated like animals.) But the point is the reader is constantly challenged. Presenting the story from that angle is something that can undoubtedly only be achieved so vividly through words and words alone.
I was devastated to discover that not even my favourite actress, the incredible, witty national treasure that is Emily Blunt, could save The Girl on the Train. The sense of trepidation the novel is consistently able to sustain with every page-turn, is definitely something that loses its way in the movie. I mean, speaking from a logical point of view, you would think having a novel visually presented to you on screen would quite literally paint a clearer picture of the story and ultimately create happier readers.
However, in taking it to the big screen, you are also taking away the reader’s most powerful weapon, which is, their ability to make it their own. One of, if not the most, beautiful thing about reading is our ability to do this. Using our own dispositions and the information we are given through the text, we sculpt the characters, settings and essentially the plot into our own interpretation of the story. So, in a sense, we’re all reading a different version of the same book. As readers, we individually construct ideas of the character’s appearance, their mannerisms, and even their likes and dislikes, regardless of whether these things have actually been pointed out.
Witnessing the war from an angle which would otherwise be extremely hard to capture, was definitely one of the most captivating things about the novel for me. However, studying about psychotherapy made me realize that people also often rely on novels that illustrate an angle they can relate to in times of need. Oftentimes we associate characters in the novel with significant persons in our lives growing up; it’s definitely something I did as a kid, reading Jacqueline Wilson novels. We often make sense of the significant persons in our lives through the characters they resemble in the novels we read. When the movie adaption contradicts these beliefs/associations, you no longer find yourself identifying with the characters and the plot as you previously did (which is when the pettiness as a reader begins to manifest). So, if you’ve ever sat at the cinema wondering why your bookworm of a friend is looking more irritated than ever, then it’s probably because they’re planning out how they would have done things differently. I know I do.
Perhaps if I hadn’t read the novel first, the movie’s impressive 7.8 rating on IMDb wouldn’t appear somewhat nonsensical. But exactly how many movies do I ruin for myself by reading the novel first? I’m certain most readers ask themselves this exact question at one point or another. And whilst I don’t have a definitive numerical figure, I can tell you this. In the past, I’ve discovered the adapted movie to a novel before reading it, which of course made reading the novel less enjoyable. And I can tell you that if I had to prioritise either enjoying the movie or enjoying the novel, I’d happily pass Vue to get to Waterstones every single time. (Or pop online to Amazon and get it for one fifth of the original amount. Let’s be real.)
This was an interesting and thought-provoking piece. I have felt that disappointment when a beloved book was put to film with disastrous results. I’m a huge Tolkien fan, and have been since around 1980 when I first read the books. An attempt was made to put them on film in animated version, but the difficulty of bringing to life such a long and complex series of books was compounded when the studio that made the first film declined to do the second. The result was another animation company taking over, changing completely the look of the characters from the first movie. A total disaster. However, in my opinion, the series of Peter Jackson films managed quite successfully to translate the books, though there were significant changes and large parts of the book were not included. Nonetheless, I have room on my shelves for the books and the movies.
I look at it this way, it is like hearing a family history from two different relatives, and the differences don’t necessarily spoil the story. But there are books that defy the transition. Dune for example, suffered from an inability to translate the series into a single movie.
In my mind, there are two movies that did successfully manage the transition. Lonesome Dove, based on the book by the same name, did a wonderful job of brining to life the characters and settings of the book. And Clint Eastwood’s The Outlaw Josie Wales, was a masterful adaptation of the book Gone To Texas, by Forrest Carter.
I think it is a very difficult endeavor to bring to live a novel, especially if it was a successful and widely read one. We readers are the director and casting director of our own version as we read, and it doesn’t always work when a book we love is made into a movie. When that happens, there is disappointment to be sure, but the good thing is that we readers can go back and re-enter the world that we made our own when others’ visions don’t match ours.
Thank you for your feedback! I agree. Despite the movie adaptations being made, we are always able to go back to the novel to revisit the world we created and that’s true bliss! I also like how you claim that reading the novel and watching the movie is like ‘hearing a family history from two different relatives, and the differences don’t necessarily spoil the story.’ Perhaps that is exactly the case – we are merely hearing the story from the director’s point of view, from the world they’ve created.
You raise good points here about the challenges of bringing the novel to the screen. It’s a hard translation, words to images. But as you point out (I think this is one of points you are making) what is most important is to remain true to the story, to the characters inner and outer worlds, to the magic of what we read. Since I live in “Hollywood” and know something about the Industry, I know that many times books are made into film because there is already a following in place. I have the sense that money drives the CEOs of the film industry more than to make sure we readers are happy and fulfilled with Hollywood’s versions of our favorite books. There is one exception, however (not about the money but about whether the show is true to the novel or not) is Game of Thrones. I watched the HBO series from the moment the show aired and have watched every episode of every season. It’s my favorite television series of all time. The production value is incredible, the acting is great, the story line is amazing–everything about the show is awesome (my opinion, of course). Around the second season, I decided I wanted to begin to read the novels, too. As I read the first in the collection, Song of Ice and Fire, I began to realize a very interesting thing: the book allows the writer to go into the inner world of the characters much more so than the series. And having watched the series allowed me to be able to follow the myriad of characters and keep them straight as I read because I had a visual image of them. One fed the other, and vice versa. What I also found interesting is that Jon Snow became my favorite character as I read, which in the HOB series, he was not my favorite. But the books (and perhaps this is your point) enabled me to go into his inner world, discover what he was thinking, understand why he was doing what he was doing and this enabled me to be sympathetic to Jon Snow in a way I had not previously experienced. I don’t really have an explanation for this phenomena, nor am I in anyway disagreeing with your insightful observations, I’m just writing about a subject I’m passionate about: The Game of Thrones!!! So, thank you, for bringing this subject up of how Hollywood ignores the written word and all its wonderousness when it translates a novel onto the screen.
Hahaha I find that regardless of the topic, people always claim Game of Thrones is the exception. And there’s definitely no denying that, it really is incredible! It’s so interesting that despite the fact that the TV show is notoriously known for its density, you were still able to gain so much more from reading the novel afterwards. Experiencing the characters from a different angle really makes you see them in a whole new light, almost as if you’re being introduced to someone completely different. But yeah, that’s definitely one of the hugest perks – being able to really discover what drives people to say/do certain things through their thoughts and emotions; something which can only be displayed through the written word! I wonder how differently we’d think of people in our day-to-day lives if we could discover the reasoning behind why they do/say certain things…