Like this author, I have often felt cheated out of my happy memories of reading a really good book by watching a movie based on it. Its like ruining a perfectly cooked dinner by cooking it some more - sometimes it just pays off to leave good enough alone. I have to make a conscious effort to not get the curiosity to know how the story translated in cinema get the better of me. In general, if the movie gets to me sooner than I can get to the book, chances are it will forever remain unread and unenjoyed - the loss is all mine. Even though I don't get mad at those who skip reading the book and head directly to the movie, I can relate to David Barnett when he says :
Can there be anything worse than lovingly engaging with a couple of hundred thousand words of prose over perhaps two or three weeks, drinking in the author's dialogue and descriptions, creating your own vision of the work in the privacy of your head, only to have every man and his dog (special offer on Tuesdays at your local Odeon) blast your intellectual ownership of the book out of the water after spending 90 minutes slobbing out in front of a cinema screen?
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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