The Princess Bride by William Goldman - PPP

The Princess Bride is a relatively creative and amusing tale of action, adventure, and the power of true love. All of this is done in, however, by two flaws, one of which is fairly common and the other of which is fatal.

The story revolves around the love between Westley, a farmhand, and Buttercup, the farm’s young mistress. When Buttercup suddenly falls for Westley, who has forever been in love with her, he leaves their homeland of Florin to seek fortune in America. Shortly thereafter, news reaches Buttercup that he’s been killed by an infamous pirate and she’s then forced to accept a marriage proposal by the prince of Florin.

A kidnapping sets the adventure in full swing, and we read on to discover whether their love is pure and true enough to overcome deceit, torture, and even death. Twice.

On the plus side, Goldman fills the story with entertaining oddballs like Inigo Montoya, a skinny Spanish swordmaster who’s seeking revenge against the six-fingered man who murdered his father, and Fezzik, a rhyme-loving, kind-hearted giant.

Further, as mentioned above, the story is relatively creative and often well-written.

On the minus side are the two flaws.

The first is a relatively common one which I find to be manipulative and downright crappy. It’s where the author uses his characters to compliment his own story. I call it puppeteer praise* because it’s like forming your hand into a puppet and having that puppet tell everyone what a wonderful person you are. Goldman actually inserts himself into the book to artificially ratchet up tension by telling us how he can’t wait to find out what happens next, and to lavish praise on his own story and narration skills.

I say that this is relatively common because you can find examples in pretty much every book ever. In fact, you’d be hard-pressed to find one without it. Authors will have one of their characters say something and then another character say how wonderful/brilliant/genius it was. This is, in effect, the author complimenting himself on what a wonderful/brilliant/genius concept or turn of phrase he’s come up with. It makes me want to punch him as hard as I can in the kidneys or spine. Well, punch anyone, really. So long as it’s in the back.

I’ve actually already lampooned this revolting, insidious chicanery in my novella, The Stars’ Fault, cause John Green was particularly flagrant with it in The Fault in our Stars. Unfortunately, though, I don’t think anyone got it.

Or it just wasn’t that funny.

Or both.

Anyhoo, Goldman employs this nauseating artifice ad nauseum. In literally the first line of the book, he tells us what a great story he’s written. He goes on to call it a masterpiece and himself a master of narrative.

Not only this, but he sets new records in puppeteer praise* by going so far as to heap compliments on some of his other works including his book, Boys & Girls Together for Love & Cholera, or something, and his movie, Butch Cassidy and the Casserole Kid, or something. Even though he does acknowledge that this is dirty subterfuge a couple times, that doesn’t make it forgivable. He definitely loses points for this crime against decency and reader intelligence.

But the fatal flaw, what dooms this “masterpiece” before it starts, is that there is absolutely no reason whatsoever for any of it to take place as there is no reason whatsoever for Westley to leave Buttercup in the first place. Goldman says that Westley does so to find fortune in America so that he can buy a farm for them to build a house on. They already live on a fucking farm with a home already built on it. They’re good to go, especially once her parents kick the bucket. They can just live their happily ever after right from the start. What the fuck, Goldman?!

Having said that, even nonsensical stories can be saved by hearty LOL’s. Unfortunately, while there are a lot of kinda lols, there aren’t any actual I’ll-read-what-she’s-reading LOLs. Maybe this is because I’ve seen the movie, which is a classic, 5 or 6 times, but maybe it’s because the book is just not LOL-funny. Making matters worse, there are a few terrible gags that make you GOL** (groan out loud).

On a side note that produced an EPOH** (eyes popping outta head), I was taken aback when at the beginning of the book Westley confessed his love for Buttercup saying, “I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you.” He remained on the farm, staying “these years” because of his love for her. She’s just 17 years old when Westley is saying this, so he’s clearly a pedophile of outrageous proportion to have been dedicating his life to her for all those years. What was she like 12 when you first fell for her, Woody Allen?!

In conclusion, The Princess Bride is that rare book where the movie is actually better, and more importantly for us, funnier. But that’s actually a credit to Goldman as he wrote the screenplay as well. So instead of reading the book, maybe you should just read the screenplay. Or better still, just watch the movie. But watch it with subtitles to still bask in that glorious feeling of superiority over all those mouth-breathing couch-potatoes out there.

While this book was on the verge of falling to a paltry two-poops rating due to its grievous flaws and lack of heartly LOLs, Goldman managed to save himself somewhat by agreeing with my take on Moby Dick, in that the descriptions of wood used for boats and the like are so meticulous, so relentlessly boring, so mind-numbingly sleep-inducing that only a masochist can enjoy it. As a result of that, the amusing characters, and the creativity that spawned the much-improved movie version, The Princess Bride gets a fairly generous 3 pearls.

*Patent not pending because this is a dumb, horrible attempt at coining a phrase. My bad. Any suggestions for naming this underhanded, hack device would be greatly appreciated.

**Patent pending.

***Definitely no patent pending for this debacle. What a stinker. Sorry about that. I really should be writing these reviews when sober.