In the new age of entertainment, TV shows and movies have become vehicles for authors to expand their readership and promote their novels. From Oscar-winning movies like Schindler’s List, adapted from Thomas Keneally’s novel of the same title, to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale being adapted into a six-season drama on Hulu, adaptations have become a familiar concept.
The list of adaptations can go on and on, and it’s no wonder why—these shows and movies are both popular with audiences and critically acclaimed by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences.
But behind the smoke and mirrors of film merits, the question arises of whether these adaptations hold any weight to their literary counterparts. As riveting as it is to watch your favorite book take on the big screen, have these adaptations ultimately caused harm to literature?
Through the creative liberty taken by directors, the struggle of actors in connecting with their characters, and the complexities of introducing literary language to the screen, it has proved difficult to completely explore an author’s novel.
The world of film adaptations has shifted its focus from accurate portrayals to “cash grab” entertainment. The community of book lovers has dwindled year after year, and Hollywood could be to blame.
It comes as no surprise that movies and television have become the prime options for entertainment, but much of the source material actually comes recycled from novels. Take, for instance, One Hundred Years of Solitude, a Netflix show adapted from the novel of the same name in Spanish, Cien Años de Soledad, by Nobel Prize–winner Gabriel García Márquez.
The book is renowned for its rich and vivid language, lavish array of fantastical imagery, and motifs blended with the realistic portrayal of Colombia circa the 20th century. The novel has served as an influential and critical view of the conflicts of Latin American life, something that has taken the back burner in modern times.
In over 422 pages, Márquez manages to show the generational circumstances of the Buendía family, with issues that include incest, war, external exploitation, and colonization. The nonlinear style of his writing positions the genre of this book as magical realism, something Márquez is greatly accredited for.
The Netflix adaptation brings to life the authenticity of Colombian life, as a prominent Latino cast takes the stage, reciting direct dialogue from the pages. What the show fails to do, however, is inspire its viewers to pick up the book.
In eight episodes, the show highlights a concise, simpler version of the novel, opting to exclude certain plot points that don’t fulfill cinematic drama. What is left is a story heavily dependent on love, war, and bloodshed, rather than encapsulating the everyday lives of the Buendía family.
For Hollywood, this tactic seems to be the best way to sell their shows and films. As for readership, over 70 percent of Canadian viewers do not feel compelled to read more after watching film adaptations according to this Ipsos study. Could it be that the adaptation did not excel in making the novel attractive, or do viewers simply not see a point in reading a book after seeing its film adaptation?
Shows and movies feel more accessible for the everyday person. The attractiveness of the LED lights shining from the screen, the communal aspect of sitting on the couch with friends and family, and short attention spans cause more favoritism for watching rather than reading.
The book clubs of the past have been shelved in favor of binge-watching. People have even adopted the mindset that watching a novel’s adaptation is a sufficient substitute for reading it. Some simply don’t want to read at all and would rather watch the novel than use synopsis websites—many even doing this for school assignments.
Perhaps the adaptation removes all desire to pick up a novel when it strays so far from its original source. Gossip Girl originally was a young-adult novel series written by Cecily von Ziegesar. It gained notoriety in the early 2000s as it glamourized sex, drugs, and destructive lifestyles to young, impressionable teenagers. Seeing an opportunity, the CW Network picked up a show adaptation to sell to the same age group.
Although what was portrayed on your television screen were the director’s creative liberties, the CW’s firm control over what was being excluded from the adaptation was apparent. The pages of the books are marked with characters smoking cigarettes, indulgences of sexual pleasure, and scenes of heavy drug use, all of which make you question what audience the book was intended for. On the other hand, the show fails to show that obscenity, instead opting for a more tame version.
At a certain point, the show completely diverges from its source material, bringing in new plot points and abandoning the author’s ingenuity—despite 13 novels to pull from. The network decided to play it safe even though the novels’ controversiality is one of the main reasons for their fame.
The show Gossip Girl turned out to be a success, to the point where many don’t know where the inspiration was derived from. The books are seen collecting dust in thrift stores, not found in most public libraries despite the show’s great success.
This article isn’t to say that Hollywood is completely to blame for the numerous unopened books across the country. Many movie adaptations have brought their novel to the limelight. Personally, watching American Psycho inspired me to pick up the novel, causing me to fall into the rabbit hole of Bret Easton Ellis’ grungy and satirist style of writing.
Still, it is interesting to note how greatly our culture has shifted to preferring adaptations over the original source material. From personal habits to even classes hosting viewings rather than assigning readings, the risk of making books obsolete grows greater as adaptations become more popular.
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