In the Margins: Novelisation

Illustrated by Victoria Cheng.

The increasing analysis of pop culture as not only a sociological phenomenon or kids’ game, but as something worthy of serious academic and literary study, has failed to include one of the key components of the pre-VCR era: the novelisation. This literary format has expanded the world of the movie into a pop culture force, blurring the lines between source material and adaptation as well as providing an intriguing insight into how the formats of scriptwriting and novel-writing work. These texts are worthy of legitimate study, not only for their place in movie history but also for the sheer talent of their adaptors.

Booming in the 1970s, the adaptation and expansion of movie scripts by writers such as Alan Dean Foster and Christopher Wood not only allowed the viewing public to revisit movies they loved but also expanded upon its source material. Wood’s treatment of the 1977 James Bond film The Spy Who Loved Me had a noticeably different plot from the original Ian Fleming novel from which it took its title. The author constructed a Bond continuation novel which replicated Fleming’s style without falling into pastiche as he simultaneously captured Fleming’s brilliant setpieces and amusing dialogue in a thriller-esque prose style. As such, Wood set the standard for more literary authors such as Sebastian Faulks and Anthony Horowitz on how to achieve a believable and enjoyable Bond continuation. 

Although George Lucas is listed on the title, Alan Dean Foster’s novelisation of the first Star Wars film not only expanded upon pre-existing places, people and speech patterns, but also introduced the first references to Emperor Palpatine, setting up the throughline for the 8-episode series to come. This was followed by Foster’s Splinter of the Mind’s Eye, the first independent Star Wars novel to be published, which worked as both a sequel to Lucas’ film and set the stage for other authors to play in the sandbox within the extensive and lauded Expanded Universe series. The novelisation therefore works in tandem with the film it adapts, setting the stage for future stories and treatments by expanding the imaginative world of both the film and its audience.

The focus on the imaginative world is also demonstrated by the blurred lines between source material and adaptation. David Morrell who wrote the source novel for the first Rambo film later  worked on the sequel’s novelisation. Similarly, Terrence Dicks, a Doctor Who writer and script editor for many years, later novelised both his own programmes and those of his contemporaries. One can therefore judge the success of an author and their underlying interests in how they both adapt their own text while also being able to closely examine the differences between types of scripts. 

Arthur C Clarke’s novelisation of 2001: A Space Odyssey acts as both an adaptation of the film for which he provided the initial ideas for and a strong science fiction novel in its own right, legitimised by the appearance of his name on the cover. Some Kubrick fans have however disliked how Clarke fills in a number of blanks within the text. For example, Clarke makes the reason for Bowman and Poole’s lengthy mission more explicit . He also adds elements such as Bowman seeing other beings’ starships when travelling through the stargate yet this is a prolonged psychedelic  sequence in the film. This adaptation removes a great deal of mystery and beauty shown in the film as Clarke struggles to replicate the cinematic vistas that are its hallmark. Novelisation thus demonstrates the potential struggle of depicting visual imagery intended for the screen within text. This also raises questions on how faithful an adaptor should be in their treatment of the material and to what extent they can achieve artistic freedom.

A neglected and derided art form, legitimised only by the occasional straying of ‘proper’ authors into its realm, the novelisation has an important place in the literary history of pop culture. It raises questions about the role of the adaptor and the importance of imagery within the screenplay, the need for the imaginative expansion of a world contained in a single film, and the necessity of toeing the line between creative freedom and perfectly describing the design of R2D2 to someone who’s never seen Star Wars. Although their importance as texts has diminished, the novelisation remains popular in fannish circles and for those who wish to relive the movie by delving into its intricacies. They deserve appreciation not only as pop culture artefacts, but as pieces of literature in their own right.