A HEARTBREAK HIPSTER REVIEWThe Bourne Identity? More like the Bored Identity. Am I right?Anybody? That’s funny right?Oh, well that’s just fine then. Don’t all fucking laugh at once. T- hough I'll stay true to my word. This shit was pretty goddamned boring. Let me take you back to 2002. When rock-music still existed on the charts. Myspace had not yet reached its prime; Facebook w- as just a half-devloped foetus in the head of some backstabbing nerd in New Hampshire. The going trend was jeans that looked as if you’d recently tussled with a rabid dog. You could go throu- gh the mall with long-sleeves under short-sleeves, not feeling re- motely self-concious. Burnt CD’s were the token of true friends- hip. Fucking Scrubs didn’t make you want to jab nails up your e- ars. Dangling a walkman from your bicycle, thinking you were t- he shit. Hermione Granger was potentially the girl next-door .... you just hadn’t yet bumped into her. Flip-screen mobiles. Week- ly television guides. Wanting to fuck Jessica Simpson. Playing E- minem in the car, desperately convinced that your mother, in ti- me, would get him. Working on school holidays was more of a s- cary myth, as opposed to grim reality. Instead of fantasising over cars, one went to Games Wizard, and fantasised over PS2 games they would someday get for $3.50 in a charity shop. The word “Childhood” did not evoke a sense of loss and sad yea- rning, but was, instead, the present. It was still socially accepta- ble to play Guns - (or, in my case, Raptors) - in the backyard. Am I done reminiscing? Well, shit, I guess I am.I just want to stress how great the early 2000’s were for me. I’m sure I view that entire period of my life with overly-colourful no- stalgic glasses. There was also the fear and shock of experiencing High School. Old friends fade out, new friends move in ... but y- ou’re never exactly sure if you like them or not. You are suddenly considered foolish if you believe in God. Certain teachers no lon- ger command the respect they deserve. Decency and consideration set you apart as a “faggot”. Sooner or later, you ju- st know you’re gonna be cornered in the bathrooms, shoved insi- de a cubicle and then beaten near to death. (It never actually ha- ppens, but like the thought of shark attacks, one is always wiser to be wary of the threat).But to get to the point.I remember seeing The Bourne Identity at the cinema. Like ma- ny films back then, it left quite an impression on me. It was esp- ecially useful in getting another espionage film out of my head. Think back to that time, and the answer should be there. Somet- hing that is still - probably always will be - considered the worst film in a series that encompasses over twenty mostly-brilliant fi- lms. Despite many saying Paul Greengrass carried the Bourne t- rilogy to its critical peak, I will always disagree and say the first one was the best in my opinion. It just gets everything right. And among other things, it was one of the earlier inspirations I had f- or visiting Europe. I loved the film right from the get-go. And th- ough I read nothing other than Harry Potter and Lemony Snick- et back then …Well … umm … those and Ron/Hermione fanfiction …I was well aware that there existed a novel. I always said to mys- elf that maybe I should read it. THANK GOD I NEVER DID!!!You see, I just couldn’t help but find this shit incredibly boring. Nothing close to what I expected. First things first, the film is n- early completely different. That’s a moot statement. It does not necessarily mean that it’s good or bad for the diversion of its su- bsequent film. Judging from a good many reviewers here on Shi- treads, I take it the original story is more appreciated. But man, I would say without hesitation, that I preferred the film in every single way. Matt Damon brought charisma to Jason Bourne. He and the actress who played Marie had such good chemistry. Every action sequence mounted the tension so flawlessly well. (But something that always annoys me, is when people hold this against the original material. Dickheads, it isn’t Peter Benchley’s fault that his original Jaws novel was not quite the same as Spie- lberg’s film. That’s the example I’m going with, because I’m obs- essed with Jaws. I will not say I hated this book because the film was different. But I will point out .... (if I can lift my brain above the choking cloud of Kiwi polish fumes) ... how I was led to exp- ect more, having seen the film, which I would argue was notably superior).The film has Jason climbing from the top window of a high-sec- urity bank, guards hot on his tail. Jason leading the cops on a hi- gh-speed chase through the gridlocked streets of Paris. Evading a deadly assassin outside a farmhouse. Riding a dead body down several flights of stairs, shooting his attackers at he zooms towa- rds the ground. Where as in the book, most of Bourne’s activities revolve around him making withdrawals at the bank - making p- hone-calls - catching taxis - sitting in restaurant booths and talk- ing - shopping for clothes, God damn it. Damned thing could ha- ve been called The Bourne Transaction. How’s this for a synopsis? ”Jason Bourne. Killer Assassin. Forgetting the past - fleeing the present, fighting the future. Jason walks into a high-end clothes store. He picks his clothing discreetly ... a trained consumer. H- eading to the counter, he smiles at the cashier. “I would like to purchase this shirt, if you please”. “Certainly,” the girl says sweetly. “Any membership card, Mr? - “The name doesn’t matter,” says the killer, waiting patiently. And it doesn’t. Not at all. But something else DOES. For ... “I’m sorry,” the girl apologises. “But the machine seems to be reject- ing your card. It says you don’t even have a cheque account. M- aybe you would like to use paypass instead?” “Is there a surcharge with that?” the killer asks. And the girl’s face changes. She dreads to give the answer. “Why ... yes, sir. The surcharge is point-five percent of the total transaction”. There’s a sign on the window of Jason Bourne’s heart . "Gone to the stomach. Be back in ten”.His skin breaks out in goosebumps. His lips begin to tremble. “But I tapped my card as you were telling me. By God, it’s alre- ady gone through. Whatever, oh whatever - Oh, sweet Jesus!!! - shall I do?”There’d be loads of annoying GIFS for that potential bestseller. Cain is for Charlie and Delta is for Cain. Find Carloss, trap Car- loss. Kill Carloss. Bastard. Get used to me saying that for no fuc- king reason throughout this pathetic review. Get used to it, then it won’t be so goddamned irritating when you finally read this n- ovel. Don’t nobody take my word for it. I’m just some loser who writes shit stories about the same damned thing. So the book actually starts off good. Two thumbs up and all that. I was surprised when I discovered that this book was written in 1980. I just assumed it came out around the same time as the fi- lm. I also didn’t know my foreskin could be pulled back until I l- ost my virginity. Cain is for Charlie and Delta is for Cain. Stop it. ANIMAL!!! Find Carloss. I don’t know, there was just something I enjoyed about the start. It had a … classic kind of feel to it. I’m not sure what I mean by that. It just did. Like how Harry’s name appeared in the Goblet of Fire. So this stranger wakes up on a small coastal town off the Medi- terranean. For months, he works at rebuilding himself, with the help of a curious, alcoholic doctor. Dr. Washburn sends this un- named man on a fishing trip for a jolly good time. Turns out so- mewhat differently. And what a name for a doctor, by the way. I was waiting for him to say to Jason “Your symptoms are quite o- ut of my field. I will refer you to an old colleague of mine, Dr. H- ealcut. We go back a long way. He’s an old friend”. And if Doctor Healcut wasn’t taking calls, then perhaps he’d send Jason to Do- ctor Dicksplint instead.Everything that happens in the first fifty pages could well have t- aken place between the scenes in the movie. But then Jason goes to Zurich, and everything gradually starts to fall apart. For me, it did, anyway. I liked how Jason sent the doctor the equivalent of a million bucks in gratitude for his help. But as soon as Jason C- aine is for Charlie and Delta is for Cain goes into the bank, gets held up in the lift, then starts a shootout on the lobby, the writi- ng gets way too jittery and chaotic. Generally, I’m not into action novels because of this very reason. I always find it boring, having to wade through detailed descrip- tions of physical combat. That shit pulls me out of the story. Wh- en something that lasts five seconds on film takes up an entire p- aragraph on page, I can’t help but get restless. In this kind of bo- ok, there's a ton of that stuff. And yet there are similar writers to Ludlum, such as Lee Child and Dan Brown, that manage to keep me interested in the action, simply because they excersise a cer- tain … ahhh … excercise … in simplicity. (Shit, I used two words twice in one sentence). Whereas Brown and Child, for example, write swift, sharp action, Ludlum has a tendency to get very gar- rulous, and since my braincells were destroyed by an excess in- halation of chemical substances …Yeah, I used the word “garrulous". Use your imagina- tion and eventually it makes sense. Kind of. Fucking I struggle to visualise anything more vividly coherent t- han two guys tussling with each other; grunts and punching sou- nd-effects layered over the top. Please save me from myself. Ple- ase, if anyone reads this. So yeah, I guess that gets the writing o- ut of the way. That was not the worst thing about the book, alth- ough it certainly didn’t help much either. Ludlum’s craft is by no means awful. But there was rarely a mo- ment where I felt the need to pause on a sentence … repeat it to myself aloud, savouring its poetic tang. The only time I re-read sentences, was to make better goddamned sense of them!!But enough with the writing. It was the story and the characters that really mucked things up for me. At first, when Jason took Marie hostage, I genuinely felt sorry f- or her. Man, Jason was a shit to her. Pressing his pistol to her f- ace, and even punching her, for god’s sake. The protagonist sud- denly became a fucking monster ... (though it was obviously not meant to feel that way). I sense that Ludlum wanted to evoke a- nger and suspense when Marie actually got away and led the p- olice to Jason. But fuck no. I remember actually saying to myse- lf: “Good!! I hope they shoot the prick”. And then shit gets even worse. Marie ends up in the hands of g- angsters - (or assassins, I don’t know) - and they take her away, likely to kill her. Jason fucking Bonehead decides he better start acting like the hero, so away he goes to save this woman that he hadn’t given a shit about before. He saves her from being raped. And then guess who fucking falls in love?Maybe I’m just a miserable asshole because I ain’t never had a g- irlfriend. But my teeth were clenched, as I forced myself through their stupid interludal conversations. I invented that word, by t- he way. “Interludal” as in … Every time something exciting hap- pens, there also has to be a charming and humorous romantic interaction between these two unlikely lovers to make your toes curl up like they did with 'Healthy Harold'. It was like in 50 Shades ... how Anna kept saying “Holy fuck!! H- oly fuck!! Holy fuck!!”. I wanted to wash her holyfucking mouth out … (with hydrochloric acid, I might add). Every time she said that, I got so angry for its repetition that the blasphemy inherent in the word no longer even bothered me. IT JUST PISSED ME OFF!!!!!!!!!!And while Marie and Jason weren't quite as rude, they baby-tal- ked with each other waaaay too much. Every single time she sa- ys something to him, Marie has to drop at least one “Dalring” in there. Now don’t get me wrong. Every now and then would not have bothered me. It wasn’t until, like, the fiftieth time, that I st- arted noticing, and was like: “Now this is just getting silly”. There are only so many Oh my Darlings I can take, thank you v- ery much. And I’m sorry ... but I just thought the entire situation that led to them falling love with was so ridiculous. So he saved her from being raped by that “Animal … that monst- rous man!! Oh, my darling, I have never been so frightened. Oh, I feel so violated, my beautiful darling. Kiss me, darling. Make t- he shame go away, my darling. Oh, my lover, my darling, my tr- uest love … ” In case you didn’t gather from my picture and my name, I am n- ot female. Nor do I have a good track record with them. I haven’t been close with any girl .... since my Ex-Girlfriend tore my heart out, microwaved it, mashed it up, forced me eat it, shit it out, eat it again, then throw it up. But I’m pretty sure there is something sexist in the fact that Jason forces this girl into the situation wh- ich leads to her almost getting raped. Saving her life was not ex- actly heroic; I’d say it was fair enough. She was having a pretty good day until he came along. And so ju- st because Mr. Troubled Conscience plays the saviour, sweeping this damsel away from those big scary men, she acts like she ow- es her life to him. Girl, you don’t gotta take no shit from no one. Go back to your hotel and finger yourself with Taylor Swift play- ing quietly in the background, you fuckin’ … (trails off ungracio- usly). Delta is for Cain and Cain is for fuck you. That’s pretty much this book. Jason goes around making phone calls ... and saying “darl- ing” to his girlfriend. Asshole might as well come dancing throu- gh the door singing: “Honey, I’m home!!” I’ll admit, of course, that I am exaggerating a little. There is a lit- tle action ... occasionally. But - like I said - these irregular action sequences are clunky and awkward. Ultimately unsatisfying. While the film is chock-full of greatly-paced suspense moments, the third act of this book literally has Jason walking around Par- is, following the employees from a clothing store, telling them to spread rumours, pretending to be an informant for a rival com- pany or somehting. Just being a general shit-stirrer. How would you feel if, in the next Bond film, James finally deals with his ar- ch-nemesis by ... not infiltrating his top-secret lair and overthr- owing his plans for world domination. Instead, the little rapsc- allion follows him to Starbucks every Sunday. James stands near the counter with a newspaper, and every time the Asian girl wor- king there calls: “Blofeld? White Latte for Blofeld?” … James go- es up to the counter, pretends to be Blofeld ... and takes the poor man’s coffee. That kind of premise would have any Bond fan clawing their ey- es out, crying: “What the hell is this shit?" And so, Goodreads has a character limit for these reviews. I gue- ss I better … oh, you mean all this time no one was even listening anyway? Oh, ain’t that a kicker.Okay, well I’ll actually take my head out of my ass for a second a- nd give a proper concise review for this shit. A la’ Rotten Tomatoes:The Bourne Identity ... while likely to entertain those who enjoy slower-paced political thrillers ... is weighed down by unsympa- thetic characters, an eleven plot, and a lack of authorial flair. Re- grettably, it all culminates into one ponderous, confusing, most- ly mediocre novel, that more than overstays its welcome.This book wasn’t exactly short. Just over 600 pages, I think. But after closing this book for the last time, I felt like I had been tra- pped between its pages even longer than I was with Stephen Ki- ng’s It. That book is one real fat-fuck of a kid. But at least he’s g- ot a good personality. In the end, that’s what really matters. And Robert Ludlum’s novel didn’t strike me that way at all. His was more like that kid who some of the girls have a crush on, the teachers generally seem to like, and very few kids have a bad thing to say about. And yet, you can't help but feel there’s some- thing off about him. Every now and then, he’ll say something re- ally weird and everybody laughs but you. Every time he plays tag with your group, a part deep inside of you withers and moans. You can put up with him from a distance … but now you feel he’s getting closer, and you’re not sure you like that. Even worse, yo- ur friends all seem to idolise him. And that’s my review. Dammit, I haven’t written one of those ones for a while. And, to be honest, I kind of regretted even starting this before I was even halfway through. Unfortunately for me .... (and anyone else that h- appens upon this) ... I just felt I'd come too far to scrap the it. Fuck it. Here’s the review. And, if you actually enjoyed it … like, if it had you rolling on the ground in side-splitting laughter, or tossing your head back, gu- ffawing till your eyes watered, and snot ran down your lips, like everyone does in Stephen King's world … then here’s the link to some other similar cries for help and attention. https://www.goodreads.com/story/show/...
While perusing the library shelves for something new to read, I came across The Bourne Identity, a 1980’s era Cold War espionage novel by Robert Ludlum. I'm not usually a reader of this genre of fiction, but based on what I felt had been an excellent film, I borrowed the book. The 1980 novel (which spawned the 2002 film) opens with a man barely clinging to life being discovered by fishermen, nearly frozen to death in the cold French Mediterranean sea. He has sustained several gunshot wounds including a quite serious one to his head. As he begins to recover, he realizes that he doesn't know who he is; he has lost his identity. With only one clue to his identity, he sets out to determine who he is. He soon discovers his name is Jason Bourne, and along with that discovery comes the realization that a number of unpleasant parties want to see him dead. He discovers he has skills in many areas he didn't know he had; he speaks several languages, he is proficient at armed and unarmed combat, and can easily slip into roles that allow him to gain information or disappear in a crowd. Using these skills along with bits and pieces of his slowly recovering memory, he slowly pieces his identity back together. The plot was well paced from first page to last, but never rushed. The book was a real "page turner" for me; I was drawn in right from the first page, and I ended up reading the book straight through, staying up all night! Ludlum is an excellent storyteller. His vibrant descriptions of people and places really helped bring the story to life. As Bourne discovered or reacted to each development, I felt as if I were there with him, or perhaps watching from across the street. It's my opinion that novels lose a lot of character development when adapted to the "silver screen", and for that reason I feel that novels are always far more entertaining than their Hollywood screenplay adaptations. The Bourne Identity is no exception. All the characters (even the lesser and peripheral ones) are well developed; as the story progresses, each has their own unique perspective on the matters at hand. Because the characters were so well developed, most of the complex concepts the novel explored were explained entirely through dialogue between the characters. Through his characters, Ludlum exposes his readers to the complex world of world banking, international diplomacy, as well as the roles of the NSA, CIA, and the Office of the President (past and present) in shaping world events. I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and would happily recommend it to anyone, with a caveat: The book can be a vocabulary builder. I had to look a number of words up in the dictionary while reading the book. However, it was well worth my time to do so; I'm sure I absorbed a few of those "fancy" words, and maybe I'll remember what they mean next time I see them again! So don’t let a few “big words” stand in your way of enjoying a truly entertaining read! There are two more "Bourne" series books; The Bourne Supremacy and The Bourne Ultimatum. If the other two are as fun to read as this book was, I'm sure I'll probably be pulling another all-nighter!
What do You think about The Bourne Identity (2005)?
This novel was published in 1980, and the primary antagonist (who just happens to be a real life person) was left out of the 2002 film, no doubt because he was apprehended and, to some extent, demystified, in the 1990s. The fact that this person is central to the plot of the novel, but does not appear in the film, inevitably drives a contextual wedge between the two mediums, even though the central amnesia theme remains the same. There is also a 1988 TV-film, which I haven’t seen.All in all, it’s a very good novel. Robert Ludlum had a unique voice, and The Bourne Identity is the grand-daddy of the modern espionage story, with its high tech (for the time) thrills and spills. If I had any complaints about the novel it would probably have something to do with the relationship between Jason Bourne and Marie St Jacques (she is a French-Canadian here, who holds a doctorate in economics). Stockholm syndrome to the max, which in itself isn’t anything new, but I didn’t find the progression entirely convincing.If you’re looking for an espionage thriller with more than a little intrigue and a hefty dose of high octane action, this is one of the best places to start.
—Dirk Grobbelaar
I saw and enjoyed the movie years ago but the story never gripped me enough to make me hurry to read the book. Now that I have, I'm glad that I did. First, its a great story. It's fast paced and has that energy common to techno-thrillers. Ludlam can certainly hold his own in an arena I'd previously thought of as populated by Tom Clancy alone. The locales and the situations are captivating and the action and tension are riveting.This book's strength (and perhaps its weakness) is the amnesia/mystery that we watch being unraveled. Strength in that it's a great plot, but it's a bit of a weakness as the amnesiac main character keeps us from forming an immediate attachment to the character. He's fascinating, but even he admits, Cain is not really easily lovable. Of course after the first 50 pages or so we do care and the story gets more interesting. This is not my favorite genre but it hooked me nonetheless, I'll most likely pick up and read the next installment but again, I feel no great need to do so immediately.
—Stephen
Cain is for Charlie and Delta is for CainClassic old school 80’s spy novel packed with action, drama and suspense. Written by Ludlum and not the grave digging wannabes. Fishermen in the Mediterranean Sea rescue a barely alive man floating in the water. The man has no memory of who he is or how he got there. His rescuers take him to a doctor who finds the man has information of a Zurich bank account surgically implanted in his hip. Desperate to find out who he is, the man travels to the Zurich bank to find clues to his identity. He finds he has an account of 5 million dollars and a name Jason Bourne. Not a bad day but the day ain't over yet. Sounds like the movie, but wait, it is not at all. Of course no one leaves a bank with that amount of money unscathed. (Cue the bad guy music.) The amnesiac is attacked by men after leaving with the money and it is not a robbery. They want Bourne dead and he does not know why. Frustrated by not knowing his past, survival instincts kick in Bourne takes a hostage, a Canadian economist named Marie St. Jacques to use as a human shield and to drive him around Zurich. Hey, he does not have a driver license. Bourne later saves St. Jacques from being raped and murdered by the baddies and she falls in love with him. Yeah lady don't blame him for your predicament. Anyway Marie helps Bourne find clues to his identity and fight spies, nightmare flash backs of his past and assassins led by the world’s most dangerous man, the elusive Carlos. Carlos has a world wide network of spies working for him. Super bad ass Carlos is also committing murders around the globe and framing Bourne for them, making Bourne a wanted man everywhere. Bourne has to find and kill Carlos or he will be killed by Carlos. A bit melodramatic but full of energy and very entertaining. Fun adventure around the globe. The best of the Ludlum novels.
—Carol
