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Title: What Dreams May Come
Author: Richard Matheson
Published: New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1978
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 304
Total Page Count: 88,910
Text Number: 255
Read Because: fan of the film, borrowed from the library
Review: After his death in a car accident, Chris Nielsen awakens in a dreamlike plane between this realm and the next. What follows is his journey to heaven and ultimately to hell, in search of his wife and soulmate, Ann. What Dreams May Come may have inspired the film of the same name, but the similarities between the book and film are slim—and the book is far inferior. Would I find the book so disappointing were I not an avid lover of the film? Perhaps not. But these criticisms still stand:
Matheson's concept of the afterlife is sometimes creative, sometimes peaceful, but rarely transportive. Arbitrary rules abound (particularly in relation to suicides, and therefore to Ann's journey), stripping away any sense of universal truth and making heaven into a dry, lifeless place; worse, the arbitrary rules are arbitrarily enforced. And there is much emphasis on rules, and customs, and the specific nature of the afterlife: what purports to be a lovestory is bogged down by constant worldbuilding in the form of dry infodumps, which disrupt the pacing, feel unrealistic, and are often, frankly, boring. Also dry is the narrative voice, which even further slows the book's pace—especially in the climax, where repetitive descriptions and the constant interruption of explication strip away both suspense and emotion.
Not that there is much emotion in the first place. Chris seems to view Ann more as an archetype than a person: she is a woman, therefore his wife; she is childlike, therefore in need of rescue. Her actual personality and mental state are merely glimpsed. Often, the reader is expected to take Chris's desire to be with her, to save her, at his word—rather than sharing his emotions. A hasty, impersonal conclusion caps off the would-be love story. The relationship between Chris and Ann is overshadowed and unexplored, and what is seen of it borders on demeaning and offensive; it's poor motivation for such a vast journey through the afterlife. In the end, Dreams is sterile and dry, heartless and joyless; the plain narration is easy to read, but infodumps bloat the book and slow it to a slog. There's some familiar characters, plot points, and even lines for fans of the film, but its heart is entirely different. I adore the film, and readily admit my bias towards it—but as the film's original and as a novel in its own right, I found the book to be a distinct disappointment and don't under any circumstances recommend it.
Review posted here on Amazon.com.
Author: Richard Matheson
Published: New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1978
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 304
Total Page Count: 88,910
Text Number: 255
Read Because: fan of the film, borrowed from the library
Review: After his death in a car accident, Chris Nielsen awakens in a dreamlike plane between this realm and the next. What follows is his journey to heaven and ultimately to hell, in search of his wife and soulmate, Ann. What Dreams May Come may have inspired the film of the same name, but the similarities between the book and film are slim—and the book is far inferior. Would I find the book so disappointing were I not an avid lover of the film? Perhaps not. But these criticisms still stand:
Matheson's concept of the afterlife is sometimes creative, sometimes peaceful, but rarely transportive. Arbitrary rules abound (particularly in relation to suicides, and therefore to Ann's journey), stripping away any sense of universal truth and making heaven into a dry, lifeless place; worse, the arbitrary rules are arbitrarily enforced. And there is much emphasis on rules, and customs, and the specific nature of the afterlife: what purports to be a lovestory is bogged down by constant worldbuilding in the form of dry infodumps, which disrupt the pacing, feel unrealistic, and are often, frankly, boring. Also dry is the narrative voice, which even further slows the book's pace—especially in the climax, where repetitive descriptions and the constant interruption of explication strip away both suspense and emotion.
Not that there is much emotion in the first place. Chris seems to view Ann more as an archetype than a person: she is a woman, therefore his wife; she is childlike, therefore in need of rescue. Her actual personality and mental state are merely glimpsed. Often, the reader is expected to take Chris's desire to be with her, to save her, at his word—rather than sharing his emotions. A hasty, impersonal conclusion caps off the would-be love story. The relationship between Chris and Ann is overshadowed and unexplored, and what is seen of it borders on demeaning and offensive; it's poor motivation for such a vast journey through the afterlife. In the end, Dreams is sterile and dry, heartless and joyless; the plain narration is easy to read, but infodumps bloat the book and slow it to a slog. There's some familiar characters, plot points, and even lines for fans of the film, but its heart is entirely different. I adore the film, and readily admit my bias towards it—but as the film's original and as a novel in its own right, I found the book to be a distinct disappointment and don't under any circumstances recommend it.
Review posted here on Amazon.com.
