First off, seeing as I've had no posts in December I wanna wish everyone a very Happy New Year. One of my resolutions, considering my erratic blography, is to post more often, at least once a week. That way I get more stuff outta my system and you get to read more of said stuff. Which isn't necessarily what you want...but, hey, it's my resolution. Deal with it.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been a voracious reader. And by voracious, I mean that I didn’t stop reading when I was eating or answering the call of nature or even, sometimes, when walking. In fact, as a kid, I’d begin reading as soon as I awoke and keep at it till my head involuntarily plunked down on the pillows and sleep consumed me.

Then I’d dream about the book I’d been reading when I was awake. Repeat ad infinitum.

The bottom line is that as I write this, aged exactly 16 years, 8 months, 13 hours and 45 minutes, I’ve devoured tomes ranging from the good, the bad and the I-can’t-believe-I-read-this variety.

But hey, the whole point of aspiring to be an intellectual is to spout smug, effusive monologues about the root causes of the existentialist crisis (gee, boredom?) and how global interventionist policy sucks (except when it’s a country with…oil…?), in smoky ‘salons’ (cafes with fancy names) wearing berets (or the fez as a revolt against Western cultural stereotype) and scowls as we sip espressos (or not, depending on our take on fair trade). That, my friends, is the quintessence of the modern intellectual. A great deal of having spent childhood immersed in words, a bit of pretension and a dash of disaffected passion (hello…oxymoron? See that’s the ‘pretension’ bit).

So, to let myself go a bit and to cut everyone who’s tried sleeping through an incredibly boring book but later pretended to adore it, here’s a series called 'The Aint-ellectuals'.

Now first off, I thought I should begin with something close to my heart. I’ve often pondered over how, having read some good books and tried to understand them, I’ve had a few instances where the protagonists simply riveted me, not just by way of the story, but independently, as people, through their sex appeal and crush-ability. A very anti-intellectual statement to make, I’m sure you’ll agree. I mean, when was the last time Chomsky discussed how hot Robert Langdon was. Then again…never mind. Anyhoo, so here, for your reading pleasure are, in random order:

THE 10 SEXIEST MEN IN LITERATURE

1. Rodion Romanych Raskolnikov – Crime and Punishment

Move over Heathcliff.

The classic tortured anti-hero, here’s a guy who’s really handsome, frighteningly smart and quite unapologetically evil. Oh and a tad deranged. Of course, Dostoevsky’s greatness lay in slicing open the psyche of a murderer and, almost clinically, examining the structure and consciousness of both the act and the actor. The gripping study of guilt, sin and redemption is made all the more vital by its manifestation in the confused, dismal, hideous and often, pathetic, matrix of Rodya Raskolnikov’s intellectual cesspool. And uh, yeah, it didn’t hurt to read the 500+ page novel when said murderer is a 23 year old hottie.

2. Ronald Weasley – The Harry Potter series

I know, I know…seriously, Harry Potter? But I’ve gotta say that Ron Weasley’s wit and goofy charm had me at hello. Well, not literally but you get the idea. He may not be a great looker but the oh-so-British sense of humour, good-natured underdog-ness and tall, lanky visage don’t hurt his chances of scoring. He’s a great friend, a brave lad…and as Lavender Brown has proven…can snog right well.

3. Tomas – The Unbearable Lightness of Being

I read the book two years ago, so I’m really sorry if I don’t remember his last name being mentioned. I’m too lazy to look it up. What I do remember, of course, is that this was one doctor I wouldn’t mind going to. And I’m not sure if it’s because Daniel Day-Lewis played him in the movie. OK, so he isn’t so cool, and frankly, quite horny when he’s shagging two women at the same time but the fact remains that not only does he manage with the consent of both of them, (though not at the same time) but he makes the reader gawp, grin and blush while he’s cavorting his depraved self all over Europe as the Czech Republic goes to hell. The novel being set in the Eastern European invasion by Russia in the 60s, this guy sure manages to ‘make love, not war’.

4. Artemis Fowl II – The Artemis Fowl series

Hey, there’s no rule that says that two teen-fangirl-spawning series cannot be included in the same list. And anyway, rules, as I’ve always said, don’t mean anything for those who are determined to break them. As the precocious Mr. Fowl is. He’s young (very much so, in fact), incredibly intelligent (having the highest IQ in Europe, having written opuses attributed to Mozart) and a congenital criminal (he started a one-man interspecies crime syndicate which is a pain in the arse for humans, fairies and everything in between). He has the air of a highly sophisticated and meticulous man, like James Bond, and yet, a certain almost undetectable awkwardness, like when he’s interacting with Holly sometimes and of course, the weird proto-sexual tension he has going on with Minerva Paradizo. Of course, it’s enough that he’s my age and can control not just the PS2 but the whole damn world any time he wants. That’s power for you.

5. Bruce Wayne/Batman – The Batman series (duh)

When I said literature, I was being broad. And to all of you elitists who don’t read graphic novels (yeah that’s the correct term) ‘coz it’s ‘not really literature’, I’ve got news. But more on that later. Bruce Wayne is (a)sexy (b)like, really, really bright (c) has got cash like Saudi Arabia’s got oil (d)does not look like a royal Rodney when he dresses up like a bat and (e)has a very, very fancy car. He’s posh, he’s dark and he has the Batmobile. Reasons for not thinking he’s god’s gift to women are non-existent.

6. The Vicomte de Valmont – Dangerous Liaisons

Yeah, I am aware that more people have seen the film than read the book…and most of them have seen Cruel Intentions, which didn’t even begin to capture the essence of the intrigues and complexities of this lot. And yes, I’ll concede that John Malkovich isn’t your average historical rake (like Sean Bean is)…but let’s get to the point here. Screw the film. In the book, this dude comes off as a grrrrreat lover, downright wicked and a libertine of the highest order. Sure, he’s debauched and cruel and amoral, but at the end of the day, he’s a true 18th century Duke of Slut, who, reformed in his final moments, begs to let the woman he has fallen in love with, know that.

7. King Tirian of Narnia – The Last Battle from The Chronicles of Narnia

To people who have read the books: let’s not pretend you weren’t privy to the slow but steady romantic motifs scattered throughout the book whenever Tirian and Jill were talking. (Rest assured, I’m sure she was 16…which is legal in the UK). He’s young, royal, clever, gallant and presumably, quite dishy. Also, any guy who can manage to call a girl ‘sweetheart’ in the same page without coming off as an idiot has got to be good.

8. Prince Hektor of Troy – The Iliad

Oh, noble, valiant Hektor! Tamer of horses, scion of Troy and so righteous, so gentle. So dead. Well, that’s mainly because Achilles knew how where to stick the sword (oh gutter out, I meant really). The reason he isn’t on the list is simply because he was just hot, which even if you live your life like you’re in a L’Oreal commercial (am trying very hard to not think of the movie here) is a tad…boring. With Hektor, on the other hand, you’ve got the archetypal perfect man…affectionate older brother (to a nancy boy like Paris); devoted husband (probably the only character in the Iliad to NOT screw around while married); great dad and son; committed patriot etc. etc.…he’s the real deal. And if he really looked like Eric Bana, well, that’s just a bonus.

9. Mr. Darcy – Pride and Prejudice

Seriously? This one needs an explanation? I think not, dear reader (who has probably missed the 1995 miniseries and the 2005 film as well as the intense cultural obsession with this pin-up of Georgian literature). Loaded, hunky, a teensy bit hard to get, snappy dresser (hey, it’s the 18th century) and apparently, a damn fine dancer. Plus, he has that incomprehensibly charming trait of being a historical Brit, which is always a bona fide crush-onym. As long as he agrees to change his name (I CANNOT imagine myself or any girl I know cooing “Fitzwilliam” at any stage of the relationship), we’ll do just fine.

10. All the guys – One Hundred Years of Solitude

Love in the Time of Cholera might have been the love story of the century but let’s face it, as moving and elegiac as that book is, the real men (note I say men…otherwise Fermina Daza had a lot going for her) are really in Garcia Marquez’s other formidable tome…the one with a whole lotta people. See now, here’s the deal…I really can’t decide and frankly, it’s darn hard to keep up with the Jose Arcadios and the Aurelianos, so while I would personally opt for the last dude, who read Melquiades’ prescient history of his family and died while actually reading about his own death (brain aneurysm time), I kinda thought it unfair to leave the whole panoply of virile, varyingly bestowed men in the novel out in the cold. Like a studio picture, this ensemble has got one of each kind, as it were. Brooding, sensitive types; bad boy types; upright, kind types…take your pick. So for all the women out there, this book is THE book.

And with this, o readers, the first part of Aint-ellectuals comes to a close. Till next time, stay tuned. Ciao.

Cheers
~peace~