May 17, 2005

I'm reading Thomas Harris' Red Dragon and Silence of the Lamb.

I get spook really easy. I don't watch horror films. I try not to watch suspense thriller by myself. And yet I find myself reading this book. I think reading a book is way much better than watching a movie. The book takes you inside the character. It tells you how they feel, what they're thinking and so on. A movie, however, is subject to the actors', or screenwriters', or directors' interpretation of the book. I sometimes think, it's been tainted of what they think versus what the author's thought was in the first place.

I've seen Silence of the Lamb. Anthony Hopkins potrayed Hannibal Lechter really well. You can just feel how evil Lechter is. Hello, Clarice. Now, that I'm reading the book, I picture Dr. Lechter in the movie.

Anyways, I read before going to bed and then step outside when I'm ready for bed. For the last couple of nights now, as I'm sitting outside, my imagation starts working overtime. I start thinking about the characters in the book. What if they were real? What if one of them is out there watching me? Planning to kill me? And then I run inside the house. Lock the door. Check it twice. Leave a light on and sleep with M in her bedroom.

Reading this book while G is gone is not a good idea. But, having started reading it, I just have to finish it. That way I know that in the end, they got caught and now they're dead or in prison. And so, there's no way for them to be out in the yard, planning to kill me.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

the problem naman with me reading before going to sleep is i dream about it. i just finished "mansfield park." fanny had a persistent suitor diba? hay naku, in my dream i had one too and his name is "huntington," i think i got the name from huntington lake--we were supposed to go there the weekend before.
right now, i'm reading "count of monte cristo"(unabridged), sus maria, every night in my dream.

Anonymous said...

same here, a vicarious feeling!

We rest. A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise. One wandering thought pollutes the day. -Percy B. Shelley