Showing posts with label coming of age. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coming of age. Show all posts

Monday, October 06, 2025

15. straydog

By Kathe Koja

Last summer, we were going to meet friends for dinner on Main St. and made a point of stopping by Pulp Fiction about an hour earlier to browse a bit.  Olman, unsurprisingly, found a small stack of paperbacks.  The owner was there and I overheard Olman asking him if he happened to have anything by so-and-so, etc.  At some point, I'd been browsing their new books section, and thought I’d inquire if he had anything by Kathe Koja.  He immediately replied with “Oh, I know I don’t have anything by her and probably won’t ever” implying along the lines that she’s been long out of print and her books are hard to find. 

 

His know-it-all, somewhat dismissive tone did not inspire me to argue with him, yet I knew there have been at least one recent reissue of her work, namely her most well-known novel, The Cipher, which was how I became interested in her in the first place. A simple google search also revealed that Skin had been reprinted in early 2025 by the same Meerkat Press who had released the 2020 reissue of The Cipher. If the owner had been doing his job properly, he would have had copies of Skin and The Cipher in the new section!  Even the Pulp Fiction homepage proclaims:

While our corporate competitors "diversify" away from print into bath towels, candles, chocolates & blankets, we're sticking with what we do best: an unrivalled selection of new, used, & out-of-print books chosen by readers, not algorithms

What’s more, I found out later that several paperback editions by Koja are available at corporate candle-and-chocolate seller Indigo Books, so what gives, other than the fact that the Pulp Fiction guy was an ignorant idiot!  Which brings me to Straydog (2002). I was looking at ordering the Graphic Novel Builder  via my neighbourhood bookstore for my daughter’s upcoming birthday, but that's when I discovered Straydog was at Indigo and because D&Q didn’t have Straydog, I ended up ordering both books from Indigo.  TBH, Koya’s oeuvre is a little too out there for me, but I would probably read Skin. Straydog appealed to me more because it was marketed as a young adult novel. 

 

A high school outcast, Rachel, volunteers part-time at an animal shelter after school. She develops a bond with a feral collie that was recently brought into the shelter. While writing a short story to submit to a competition, she begins to identify with the dog to an almost hyper-obsessive degree. 


Koja has a cult following primarily due to her uncanny ability to portray the outcast in society -- warts and all. Anyone who’s ever been in the fringes throughout high school would identify with Rachel's internal monologue, her harsh assessment of the popular kids, her unspoken longing to belong somewhere and her fear of connection because it’s just so damn strange and unfamiliar.  I believe I would have identified with Rachel had I read this in my early teens.

 

Straydog explores adolescent coming of age in a way few YA books have, then and now. It’s very realistic, and not always pleasant to read.  Even though it features a kind of meet-cute with a fellow outsider and new boy, Griffin, Rachel ends up sabotaging their budding relationship as well as her volunteer job because she’s a flawed, complicate and very emotional teenager.

 

I’d be interested in what my soon-to-be 13yo daughter would think of straydog (note to self: I have put the little paperback in her bookshelf).  She may find it a bit ordinary and too real at this stage in her life, but maybe this is something she'd appreciate more in a year or so...



Sunday, December 06, 2020

16. The Queen’s Gambit

 By Walter Tevis   

I like writing about people who are somewhat outcasts from society. … Highly intelligent, out of place characters. I like to write about alienation.”   -- Walter Tevis 

 --------

The quote was from the Ringer article Olman had sent me not long after the Netflix series debuted, and it sealed my decision to read the book first.

I even ordered it from my local bookstore D&Q along with some Christmas books for my kid and began it immediately after The Stand.  I finished in 5 days.  Right up there with Mary Katherine Blackwood from We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Beth Harmon has become one of my favourite literary characters. 

I was extremely glad of my decision to read the book before watching the show, which I also enjoyed tremendously.  I wanted to compare the series to the novel, not the other way around.  But since I would never have read this book were it not for the Netflix series, this is more like a comparison than a review.  Though I was pleased by how the series remained quite faithful to its source material, there were some notable differences I observed:


************* MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD **************


The series shifted Beth’s age one year later, so Beth learned chess from Mr Schaibel at 9 instead of 8; and she had her first chess tournament at 14, not 13.  Makes sense in the show, cuz Anya is quite ta-aaa-all.

The Netflix version of Beth Harmon still embodied Tevis' Beth Harmon at heart, but her character has been made more relatable, self-assured and socially adjusted than her literary counterpart.  The Netflix Beth Harmon was also more glamorous and fashionable, although both versions shared an appreciation for high quality clothing.  

Anya Taylor-Joy has a voluptuousness that was not evident in the literary version (in the show, a Russian chauffeur made a comment that Beth looks like Ann Margret).  In contrast, Trevis’ Beth Harmon was described as quite plain-looking with brown hair although she does grow up "good-looking" by the time she runs into Townes in Las Vegas.  I envisioned Beth to be a Carey Mulligan good-looking instead of an Ann Margret good-looking, y'know what I mean?

The series provided intermittent flashbacks of Beth’s biological mom and fleeting recollections of her father. It also hinted and later revealed that the car accident was meant to kill both mother and daughter.  The source material did not indulge in flashbacks, though I can understand why the show would do so.  The series also fleshed out Alice Harmon's background ie. she had a Ph.D in Math at Cornell, thus Beth inherited her mom’s gift.

Alma Wheatley’s background also got fleshed out in the series, ie. she was a concert pianist before her early career was cut short by an accidental pregnancy, which explains why she was stuck with her bitter, resentful husband.  Her character comes across as less pathetic compared to the book, which portrayed Mrs. Wheatley as a superficial but kind-hearted person.  She was another counterpoint to Beth’s character, as Alma was someone who could’ve made something of herself had it not been for her loser of a husband. The series doesn’t reveal what happened to Alma's biological child, however.

In Beth’s first tournament in Kentucky, the man at the registration booth has been transformed as college-aged twins in the series; at first disdainful of Beth but later became her biggest fans; she ran into Mike and Matt in later tournaments and they developed a nice camaraderie, which I thought was a nice touch.  The series did a stellar job portraying the registration scene where Beth learns about ratings, the U.S. Open, etc from the patronizing twins, as well as the excitement and newness of her first tournament.

The series also did a nice job in the casting of Townes, a handsome, charismatic chess player -- the only man that Beth pined after.  Unlike the book, which portrayed their fleeting relationship in a more nuanced way, the show amped up their sexual tension when Townes invited Beth over to his Las Vegas hotel room.  This was not in the book but just when you thought Townes was going to make a move, a man entered the room to get dressed for the pool, strongly implying that Townes was gay.

The series version of Benny Watts was an amalgamation of the rough-hewn yet articulate beatnik chess bum with a knife that Beth encountered at her 2nd tournament in Cincinnati, whereas in the book, Benny was a more typical-looking chess player (just a skinny white guy).  I wasn’t so keen on this, but I understood why the series wanted to do it this way. 

The Netflix Vasily Borgov has the authoritarian scowl down, but he's much more distinguished looking than the novel version:  "a short, heavy man, not unlike a gorilla himself, with jutting brow ridges, bushy eyebrows..."  The only common factors are the "coarse, black hair and impassive look."  Still, the actor who plays Borgov was well cast.

The series also beefed up all of Beth’s female relationships which all provided various counterpoints:  

Margaret, Beth’s former high school bully became an unhappy housewife saddled with babies who also had a propensity for liquor. 

Ann Packard, who was Beth’s first opponent at the Lexington tournament, became a pre-med student, making a pilgrimage to see a burned-out Beth defend her championship years later.

Benny’s very striking friend, Jenny, became Chloe in the series, a French model-cum-vagabond.  Unlike the source material where Jenny only made one appearance in NYC, Chloe reappeared in Paris and was partly responsible for Beth’s bender the night before her final match against Borgov.

In the novel’s portrayal of the Paris tournament, Beth was stone-cold sober and “played beautifully” but she was still defeated by Borgov.  In the series, Beth was hungover from her bender with Chloe, arrived late for her final match with Borgov (something that the book version of Beth would never have done) and constantly drank from her water glass throughout the match due to dehydration.  She would hesitate before moving her pieces and a tear fell from her left eye as she resigned.  I felt the show unnecessarily over-dramatized this scene and much preferred the original version. 

In the series, Harry Beltik’s farewell was much more gentle compared to his cold and sudden departure in the novel. In the book, Beltik was portrayed like a jilted lover, and never seen again; in the series, he remained a concerned friend who keyed into Beth’s pill addiction and alcoholism.  

In the novel, after realizing how isolated she was, Beth reached out to Jolene, whereas in the series, Jolene made a dramatic appearance at Beth’s doorstep.  She was the one who informed Beth that Mr Shaibel had died and suggested they go to the funeral (in the book, it was Beth who made the decision to go).  

I was expecting to see a physical training montage of Jolene whipping Beth back into shape as the book portrayed so well, and was surprised when this was omitted.  Instead we just see a couple of scenes of them playing squash.  What’s worse is that in the show, after Beth had declined to represent the Christian Crusaders, Jolene offered to lend Beth the money she needed to travel to the Moscow tournament.  The writers of the show made a clever guise of Jolene’s motive (she’s no guardian angel but family) perhaps to potentially ward off criticism from black viewers.  Again, I feel like it was another attempt to make Beth more relatable and less of an oddball loner.  They would rather beef up Beth’s female relationships at the expense of her being fiercely independent and resourceful.  In the book, Beth simply used what was left of her savings from having to buy her house from Mr. Wheatley, the anti-Dad, in order to go to the Moscow tournament.

In the series, Townes reappeared as a reporter covering the Moscow tournament, surprising Beth.  After clearing up their previous misstep, they became fast friends with Townes offering to become her second.  
 
This was the only part I disliked in the show:  during her adjournment from her final match with Borgov, Beth got the call from Benny and his chess buddies, just like in the book.  However, the series added a bunch of other characters, like Harry Beltik!  At Benny’s apartment in NYC!  What was even more ridiculous was that the twins Mike and Matt were there too!  This would have been unlikely in the book, and was obvious the show writers wanted more drama and again, they wanted Beth to be more relatable. 

What was marvellous about the novel was how it described Beth's interior world, yet this would be difficult to translate to the screen.  In the show, some of Beth's internal monologue was given to Alma Wheatley 's character, such as when they were having dinner at a restaurant, and Alma started coughing over her cocktail.  Beth asked Alma if maybe her drinking was making her sick and Almas went "oh please" and used this line from the novel:

        She had flirted with alcohol for years. It was time to consummate the relationship.

Which doesn't really make much sense as Alma has consummated that relationship long ago!

Things I liked that the series had faithfully adapted from the book:
 
Beth having her first period during her first chess tournament.  I loved how Tevis portrayed it in a way that was both matter-of-fact and significant.
 
Beth began pulling a long sheet from the roll of toilet paper and folding it into a tightly packed rectangle. The pain in her abdomen had eased. She was menstruating, and she had just beaten Goldmann: 1997. She put the folded paper into her panties, pulled them up tight, straightened her skirt and walked confidently back into the playing area.

When Beth had the apartment to herself after the college kids took off to see a movie in another town.
 
     She was alone, and she liked it.  It was the way she had learned everything important in her life.
 
Although the series did a pretty good job in staying true to Beth's character in the novel, there were some notable exceptions.

One thing that stuck out in Beth's first tournament (and only upon re-reading the book and re-watching the show in December 2022) is that the series made it out that Beth only won the match with Beltik after she took the green pill in the bathroom, which helped her envision the game above her head.  In the book, Beth just needed to sit down in the stall and close her eyes to gather herself until she was able to find her move, without any help from a pill.  

The series wrongly pushed the idea that the pills help Beth visualize her chess moves, whereas the book made it clear that the tranqulizers primarily help to quell Beth's active mind so that she can sleep at night, and more importantly, Beth needs to have a clear mind to play chess effectively.  In fact, the pills cloud her thinking, and if she did take a pill the night before a match, she'd have to wake up extra early and down some cups of coffee in order to clear her mind.  And this was when she was still a middle teen.  So in the show, when Beth's in Russia, she told Townes that she needs her mind clouded by drugs and alcohol to visualize a chess match, it didn't make sense.  So the show plays up Beth's addiction so that she can learn to be free of it, just so there's more drama.