(![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
capri0mni posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writerstorm Sep. 10th, 2010 12:10 am)
capri0mni posting in writerstorm Sep. 10th, 2010 12:10 am)Okay... So, this isn't part of an actual story or a full-born plot bunny(yet), but just a thought-bone that my imagination has been chewing on, and I'm feeling compelled to work it out.
There's the "Secret Life of Toys" trope, where a child's toys are intelligent beings with lives of their own. Pixar's Toy Story movies are the latest version of that, but there's also The Brave Tin Soldier and The Velveteen Rabbit (and I think there was a horror movie, Chuck).
Anyway, I've latched onto the notion of an old book somehow becoming intelligent, and having a life of its own, by "absorbing" some of the thoughts and memories of each of the people who've read it over the years: One person's anger in reaction to a particular part of the story, one person's happy memories triggered by another part, someone else's boredom and daydreams, and so on. And each of those separate parts gets knitted into a whole new identity, and "mind," which becomes independant from the original intention of the book's author.
The thing is: the whole reason to have awareness and intelligence is so that you can interact with and move through the world. It's easy to imagine dolls and other toys in this way because they have bodies (of a sort).
How would a book, with an intelligence and will of its own, act on its will? It's hard to be a protagonist (or antagonist) if you can't actually do anything for yourself.
Since "Body" equals "Movement," at least on some level, I'm thinking that the book's mind might be bound up in the movement of pen on paper, when its letters were formed...
But I don't know. Any ideas?
There's the "Secret Life of Toys" trope, where a child's toys are intelligent beings with lives of their own. Pixar's Toy Story movies are the latest version of that, but there's also The Brave Tin Soldier and The Velveteen Rabbit (and I think there was a horror movie, Chuck).
Anyway, I've latched onto the notion of an old book somehow becoming intelligent, and having a life of its own, by "absorbing" some of the thoughts and memories of each of the people who've read it over the years: One person's anger in reaction to a particular part of the story, one person's happy memories triggered by another part, someone else's boredom and daydreams, and so on. And each of those separate parts gets knitted into a whole new identity, and "mind," which becomes independant from the original intention of the book's author.
The thing is: the whole reason to have awareness and intelligence is so that you can interact with and move through the world. It's easy to imagine dolls and other toys in this way because they have bodies (of a sort).
How would a book, with an intelligence and will of its own, act on its will? It's hard to be a protagonist (or antagonist) if you can't actually do anything for yourself.
Since "Body" equals "Movement," at least on some level, I'm thinking that the book's mind might be bound up in the movement of pen on paper, when its letters were formed...
But I don't know. Any ideas?
From:
no subject
Also, maybe books that were written by the same author, printed on the same tree or with the same supply of ink, or touching covers can communicate, not in letters or ink, but ideas. Since, after all, isn't that what books are? Ideas?
And it would be an entirely *oral* culture. Stories passing by way of sharing shelf space or from same author to same printing press, etc. A vast, loosely connected network.
And old books, so long forgotten, finding new life when bought at yard sales and put on new shelves. And finally having a new audience for all the stories it has accumulated over the years. And gaining new stories and lives in return.
Oh, and the sudden absence of a voice when a book falls apart or is destroyed.
A group of books prepared for burning. All sharing as many stories as they can before the flames reach them. And each falling suddenly silent as their covers buckle and pages curl inward and blacken.
It could actually be quite interesting.
---
On a side note, you may wish to look into Morrow's The Last Witchfinder (a book written by a book) and Moer's The City of Dreaming Books (books as creatures, creatures as books).
From:
no subject
Re: old, forgotten books, I recently had an itch to reread a favorite from my childhood: Draw Me an Elephant, by Anne S. Sampson. It's gone out of print, so I bought a used copy online.
When it arrived, I discovered it had been part of a public school's library, and it had a big red "DISCARD" stamped on both its end papers. I just wanted to give the poor thing a hug... Instead, I reread it about seven times in a row, which, for a book, is probably about the same thing.