True Grit is one of those books that I’ve picked up and put back down over and over. It has hovered near the top of my reading list, but somehow it kept getting leapfrogged. I think I had even set it aside as a possible vacation book, but when it came time to pare down the stack, it got put back on the shelf.
Well, a concatenation of events led me to finally bump it to the top of my list. Two nights ago, as I was watching TV (only to briefly educate myself on what non-readers spend their time doing, I assure you), the trailer for the new Coen Brothers’ adaptation of True Grit came on. Then yesterday, as I was opening boxes of books in the freight room of the store, I discovered the new Penguin paperback edition of True Grit, with
SOON TO BE A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE
DIRECTED BY THE COEN BROTHERS
emblazoned* on the cover. I felt like the universe was speaking to me — it couldn’t simply be a coincidence. (Actually, upon reflection, it was mostly just well-timed marketing.) In any case, I marched (in my car) straight home and sat down to write this, so that you could read it and then come in the store to get your own copy of True Grit. This will enable you to say (at some future date, preferably at a cool party), “Well, of course the movie was alright, but I’m just glad I read the book first — it really kind of ruins the book if you see the movie first, doesn’t it? You HAVE read it, HAVEN’T you?”
Of course, it must be mentioned that some have already had True Grit ruined by the 1969 John Wayne feature film by the same name. The film was generally well-received, with Wayne receiving both the Academy Award and Golden Globe for Best Actor. The plot of the film did stray on several points from the book (more cool party talking points!). Ethan Coen has said that the 2010 film will be a more faithful adaptation of the novel (but honestly, he could hardly get away with saying they intended to stray as far as possible from the book). Not content to leave things there, John Wayne returned in a 1975 sequel Rooster Cogburn. Plans for a third John Wayne True Grit movie never came to fruition, so in 1978 Warren Oates took over Wayne’s role for a made-for-TV movie called True Grit: A Further Adventure.
It must also be mentioned now that Charles Portis himself ruined True Grit by first publishing it as a serial in “The Saturday Evening Post” with a storyline that deviated from the novel, therefore spoiling it for those readers who had not the foresight to wait for the final (superior) written format. What embarrassed partygoers there must have been in 1968 when they admitted to eagerly reading through the serial form of True Grit instead of waiting for the authoritative novelization.
Consider your True Grit experience ruined:
Hmm.
You know what? That actually looks pretty good. Forget everything I said about the risk of ruining the book. Read the book first, watch the classic 1969 film first, or watch the new film first. It doesn’t matter. Charles Portis created characters, created a story, but he didn’t set it aside to be preserved word for word. The serials were published in 1968, the novel the same year, and the John Wayne film just a year later — each different in detail and in form.
But do come pick up a copy of True Grit. At the very least, you can leave it lying casually on your coffee table for your dinner party guests to notice. And maybe you’ll pick it up after they leave, turn to the first page, and read these opening lines:
People do not give it credence that a fourteen-year-old girl could leave home and go off in the wintertime to avenge her father’s blood but it did not seem to strange then, although I will say it did not happen every day. I was just fourteen years of age when a coward going by the name of Tom Chaney shot my father down in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and robbed him of his life and his horse and $150 in cash money plus two California gold pieces that he carried in his trouser band.
You can’t ruin that, even if you tried.
*Have you ever noticed there are words that appear frequently in articles and essays and reviews, but you’d get stared at if you used them in everyday conversation? Why is this? What keeps us from speaking aloud words like aplomb, moribund, or emblazoned? And why is emblazoned always past tense? Why do we never hear someone say, “I’m off to go emblazon something bright on the front of my shirt,” or “I’m so tired, I spent all afternoon emblazoning the front of my house”?
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