I wonder what it would be like to live inside Tim Burton's head ala Being John Malkovich, such talent, such virile imaginations, to dwell within his noggin for a while, you know? I don't know why but for some reason I have always held Burton's creativity on par with Neil Gaiman's, though their style is very dissimilar, but both have distinct styles, that's almost as important as talent. I feel these little stories about grotesque beauty, and what a beauty it was, were full of metaphors, heavy with symbolism. Too many hidden meanings here to be casual, Burton was trying to tell us something. In so few words and splashes from his mind, he did rather well. I went into this fully expecting weird quirkiness, maybe little bit of creepy Gothicness, but I found most of the stories to be very twisted darkly so, which I end up enjoying anyways. There was a lot of sexual innuendo, more so than in his films, that did surprise me. But I like it when I am surprised.
OK, so let's break it down, shall we? Stick Boy and Match Girl were very sweet but in a Tim Burton fashion. Staring Girl was downright creepy, brrr. Stain Boy and his power were hilarious. OK now, the titular Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy, Jesus that was something else, quite an impact. Wow. It was definitely multilayered, with myriad themes and that ending, it's all about the endings, isn't it Rðhisha? It had a good beginning with these words ( he proposed in the dunes, they wed by the sea) and a good, righteous end. Stain Boy again, haha. The Girl Who Turned into a Bed, well! Roy the Toxic Boy, how ironic. James, my personal favorite but made me said Whattt aloud. Mummy Boy was like a twisted WALL-E. But my absolute favorite was the Anchor Baby because mermaids and watery stuff, it was so poignant and it had a proper satisfying finish, it was fair like chaos, this was definitely a social commentary. Junk Girl was very meaningful. All these stories strange but good.
Tim Burton's stories have always been about the lonely hearts, the misfits, about isolation. Those who shun the world and are often rejected by it. Those distorted monsters, my heroes. I think all his work is basically a retelling of Frankenstein's monster and the need to separate from others' reality, about the misunderstood. I feel like he's trying to find a cure for the sickness of being alive and assuage the hysteria of living in this world. I have always cherished his movies, but his vision transcends even here to the written form as well. I feel like I know him a little better for it, after reading this collection.
Is it devious of me to enjoy all this weird craziness and all this misery? But it's so beautiful, she's so beautiful. Do you know you are fake? In the end, all I can say is this. Don't forget the music, don't forget the magic. Don't let utterly Empty People take all that away from you.
Dream. Dream it all. Dream until you fall asleep. Dream till they let you. Even then dream some more, just to spite them, just for the heck of it. There's no Alice's sister here to wake you up. Don't be afraid, be a Dreamer even if there is no Eva Green.