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The Godfather
Mario Puzo invents the Corleone family and tells us some of their stories.
It would be hard to do justice to this book, even without the headwinds generated by its cinematic progeny.
Instead of just begging you to treat the book as a separate entity, unburdened by subsequent mob content, I’m going to tackle a few matters head on.
Throw away your mental imagery of a smirking, sneering, skull stomping Joe Pesci. The Scorsese mob movie has a very different relationship with violence. Even if we don’t fall into the trap of saying that they glorify violence, we still have to concede that they’re blasé about it.
That’s not this book. That’s not even the movie. Seriously, watch it again and see if you can spot a Don Corleone who increasingly abhors violence. Yes, he’s got a different relationship with coercive force than most of us. But the movie, and the book even more, are very fucking far from Scarface.
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