more dimensions

There is something about the written word which seems to have more dimensions or perhaps more angles than film. I suspect it is something about the narrative structure of film which restricts things. I've just finished reading Nick Hornby's About a Boy. I watched the film of the same name starring Hugh Grant months ago and Iris left the book behind. I started yesterday afternoon and finished it off this evening. Actually I read 90 percent this evening.

The storyline is basically the same but there are different scenes appearing and disappearing when comparing book and film. But somehow Nick Hornby in his writing, and the book facilitates this better, allows us to get inside the heads of his characters and find something authentically real. One moment of ironic tension found in the book where Marcus' mother in her confusion to have Will stop his involvement then says "You can't just shut life out, you know." Will's counter argument in his narration to us is " She was wrong, he was almost positive. You could shut life out. If you didn't answer the door to it, how was it going to get in?"

The trouble is life does creep in. In the back door, through a crack in the window, via the letter box in the door, life and it's power to confront gets inside. Unless of course you are truly hermetically sealed, divorced from others, merely living a second-hand existence.