Prohibition

I watched Footloose yesterday. Yes, it does have something to do with children's literature. Or maybe it is just literature in general. In the movie, they talk a lot about prohibition, and one recurring theme is the idea of censorship. Some people of the town wanted to rid the libraries of certain books that they deemed unholy and unfit for children's reading. How terrible is that! There was even one scene where they had a book burning rally and destroyed many of the stories. However, the minister of the church in the town finally came to realize that prohibition and censorship was not the answer. What people needed was not an avoidance of temptation, but a complete change of heart that made that temptation undesirable, or at least recognizable. In other words, with the right heart, someone can read a book and know the wrong things that happen in the story, understand why they are wrong, and realize that they will have to encounter sin and wrong-doing in their everyday lives. With a change of heart, people can turn dancing into something that is holy and joyful, and not sinful. Fairytales can be fun and entertaining, and not have an anti-feminism agenda.

Sense of Nonsense

Alice and Wonderland is full of nonsense, but it has a strange logic to it. I mean, there is something to be said in the Hatter's remark that saying what you mean is not the same as meaning what you say, just like seeing what you eat is not the same as eating what you see. When you eat, you grow; if you have white flowers but need red ones there's no reason not to paint them; and morals can be found in almost anything (though it may not be worth trying to find them). The puns throughout the book are quite interesting as well. It is as if Carroll was only pointing out what people recognize but are too embarrassed to talk about. People don't mention these sorts of things because they think that others will think them crazy, or silly, or nonsensical. In reality, a little bit of sense can be found in most of the book. Maybe that is what is so entertaining about it. It's like a silly game; you have to make sense out of what is seemingly absolutely insane.

Under the Influence

Sometimes it is hard to write in a blog everyday. Sometimes you don't feel inspired, or you just can't seem to get your fingers to want to type. But sometimes when you feel this way, if you just go ahead and write, the craziest things will come out of your head. Tonight is one of those nights.

I can't wait until we start reading Alice and Wonderland. I have never read it before, but I have heard stories that the author wrote it while he was on opium. It is intereting how many of the most famous classic stories were written under the influence of something. I don't promote illegal drugs in any way, but a lot of the time, they seem to really bring out the creativity in people. It is also interesting how they can cause adult people to create masterful pieces for children. It is as if finding that high (by using drugs) is really just finding the child in yourself, and that is what makes you feel so happy. It's too bad that people resort to using substances to get to that point. It should be something that is found naturally. If we all could just keep in touch with the child within, then life would be just a little bit better. Maybe that is why so many adults love to read children's stories. They are great sources of a natural high.

Life and Fantasy and "What do you think?"

February 16, 2008—“What do you think?”

I promise it is Saturday as I write this. I’m still at the retreat. Anyway, here is an update on Marion’s world:


When Marion returned to the room, Adon was still snoring soundly. It was still dark outside, and Marion guessed it was about four in the morning. He would have another good hour of sleep before he would have to embark on his journey again.

He next awoke to Adon shoving his shoulder. “Marion, get up. Get up! I thought you wanted to leave early!”

Marion bolted upright. He could see a faint glow of light in the sky. Damn. The sun was already rising. He threw off the blankets and began to gather his things. “Are you ready to go?” he said gruffly. “Grab whatever you can get to eat downstairs and some for me. We’re in a hurry.”

Adon did as he was told, and left the room. Marion gather his cloak, his bow and arrows, and whatever money they had left. After one last look out towards the valley, he left the room and descended the stairs.

Hessa was waiting for him at the door with a freshly baked oat cake in hand. “You know where to find him?” she said.

Marion nodded, taking her cake. It was warm and smelled wonderfully of cinnamon. She smiled at him, and Marion had a curious sense of regret at not being able to see her smile again for a long time. Then he was out the door with Adon at his tail.

Marion was lucky he had a keen sense of direction. It didn’t take them long to find the start of the path to the barn again. But the path was quite different in the day than at night. The trees seemed less dense, the shadows less sinister. The barn itself could be seen from between the trees, and it appeared like just another cottage in the woods.

“Where are we going?” Adon asked when Marion took a sharp turn down into the woods.

“You’ll see,” Marion answered. The less that was said, the better. Fortunately, Adon didn’t ask again until they were upon the gate in front of the barn. Marion pushed it open and passed through. Adon frowned. “This is private property.”

“I have permission.” He pushed on the door to the barn. Adon followed as he crossed the aisle, placed a hand on the door of the stall, and peered over the edge. “What do you think?” Marion asked, more admiration in his voice than he intended to reveal.


February 15, 2008—Life and Fantasy

I know this is being posted late, but I am at a retreat where there is no internet service, so I am forced to write it now and post it later. Really, honestly, it is Friday evening. I am at what is called an Engaged Encounter retreat. It is for Catholic couples who want to be married, and it is a way to prepare yourself for marriage, through prayer, Mass, discussions, talks, and writing. So far it sounds like it will be amazing but a little tiring. It’s funny now when I look back at the fairy tales we have been learning about in class. In many of them, there was love at first site and the prince and princess were married soon afterward, and they live happily ever after. Today, that is so rare that the Catholic Church, which believes that that the marriage bond lasts forever, will not even marry a couple unless they have been engaged for at least six months and have gone through sufficient marriage preparation. I think that is wonderful. As much as we would all like to believe it, there is no such thing as love at first sight, and no one should marry on a whim. Now, I do believe in romance, and I do believe in happy endings, and I will marry my prince. We just have to prepare ourselves for it, that’s all.

Contradiction

Danielle intrigues me. She is very strong-willed and a little bit of a feminist, but she is not rebellious. She is somewhat contradictory. She defies the prince and almost seems to scold him, but lets her stepmother walk all over her. She even comments on how she stays up late and tries to think of ways to please her stepmother. This seems contradictory to a strong-willed, self-confident woman who would know if she was doing more work than her keep. I suppose Danielle doesn't mind the work, respects the position of a servant, and is very loyal to her family, but she doesn't seem to recognize the injustice she endures. Yet she always recognizes the injustice that inhibits others.

It seems to me that Danielle has two characters: the one who stands up for what she believes in, tricks the court (even royalty), and gets what she wants; and the one who allows herself to be pushed down and walked upon without even crying out. Then again, I suppose she does become a little more defiant with her stepmother once she starts seeing the prince. Perhaps the prince brings out what is best in her.

A Myth

It occurred to me today that many of our beliefs are based on myths. I would venture to say that many of the stories in the Old Testament are myths. And the funny thing is, we believe wholeheartedly in them. I'm not saying that they aren't true. I certainly am a Catholic Christian and I believe in God's Truth; I'm just saying that it is striking how so many of the world religions have religious texts that hold very similar myths. I wonder if it is because these myths are so close to the truth that they all have the same origin. Or is it because God has chosen to reveal himself differently to different people? I'm not saying that there are different "true" religions--there can only be one Truth--but all good comes from God, so there can certainly be certain smaller truths found in differing faiths. And these truths come alive in the myths.

Many Christians believe the Bible to be completely factual, a history book. I, on the other hand, though I believe the Bible is entirely true, don't take it as a factual history book. I guess it can be compared to what many people say about folktales: they are not exactly how something happened, but they are very true. I understand that while the Bible was inspired by God, it was written by human hands, and certain things were emphasized or elaborated according to the audience and the specific understanding of the culture of the time. A myth. Except that this collection of myths carried meaning much more powerful than even the most magical fairytale.

The Bible is the greatest love story, fantasy, adventure tale ever written.

Avolo!

Perhaps I am writing too many excerpts from my story. But I like seeing what is going to happen next just as much as a reader. :)


Marion gaped. It was beautiful. The horse soared elegantly through the night sky like an exotic bird dancing on the wind. He appeared to be running in the air with no ground to meet his feet, and hi legs pounded the sky with powerful grace. It occurred to Marion that although his name meant “winged horse”, he had no wings. Effortlessly he sailed the skies, with no apparent source of his flight. It was magical. As Veridus passed beyond the trees and into the open sky, the silver moonlight glistened on his back, shimmering faintly against the clouds. Magnificent.

Hessa flew Veridus for only a short while before she alighted in front of Marion. “Your turn.” She grinned, sliding off his tall back. Her feet landed with a faint thud on the ground. “Just grab hold of his mane at his withers and swing yourself up."

"I know how to mount a horse,” Marion grunted. He did as he was told. Veridus stepped forward at the pressure of Marion’s mount, and Marion almost slipped of his back, but he held on tight. Soon he was sitting high atop the creature. Marion felt a sudden sense of uneasiness. It had been a long time since he had been on a horse’s back, and certainly never one that was this tall. He gulped. This was going to be intense.

“Okay, if you cluck at him and kick, he just walks like a normal horse.” Hessa nodded, ncourage Marion to try. He did so, and Veridus stepped forward reluctantly with a toss of his head. “To fly, you say, ‘Avolo!’”

Marion bent forward over the horse’s neck and clutched his mane. Then he whispered, “Avolo.” They were off!

Instantly Marion felt as if he were falling backward. For a moment he thought he had slipped off the back of the horse. He grasped for his mane. Then, swiftly, Veridus stopped his ascent and pitched forward, balancing in the air. He grunted, as if waiting for Marion’s next command.

Marion glanced around him. They were floating in midair! It was incredibly dark; the trees were merely black spots on the ground below. Occasionally he got a glimpse of a rooftop or street in the shimmering moonlight, but Hessa and the barn below were impossible to see. He searched for some sort of marker of where he had left. Then he saw the lantern. Hessa had stepped out from beneath the canopy of a tree and waved it at him. He breathed more freely.

Marion tugged Veridus’s mane to the right, and the horse turned on the spot. Marion’s stomach did a somersault as the wind crashed into him and almost knocked him off to the left. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around Veridus’s neck. Veridus tossed his head in protest, but Marion hung on. Then the horse began to dive. Wind crashed into Marion’s face and his long hair was lifted off his neck. The rush of air was cold, and his eyes began to water. They were headed straight for the ground! Then Marion heard Hessa’s faint voice below. “Sit up, Marion! He dives when you do that!”

Shaking his head, Marion struggled to push himself into an upright position while maintaining his balance. Though the horse was steady, the wind was harsh, and he felt gusts coming at him from every angle. But as soon as he had relinquished his grip on Veridus’s neck, the horse righted himself. Then they were gliding smoothly through the air again.

That was enough for tonight, Marion thought. This was going to take some getting used to. Lightly he tugged Veridus back to the left and toward the light of the lantern. “Expono, Marion, expono,” Hessa was saying.

It took a moment for Marion to understand. Then, comprehending, he whispered, “Expono.” Veridus began his descent, and moments later, they were back on solid earth.

Marion slid off his back as soon as he felt the ground beneath the horse’s feet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention that about the diving,” Hessa said, “I didn’t think you would hold on so tightly.”

Marion glared at her so harshly, he was glad she could barely see his face in the dark. “You didn’t explain how to land either.”

“Sorry. It’s my fault, really. I can only hope no one heard me shouting after you.”

“Well, what’s done is done.” Marion struggled to grin at her. “It was fun. He is going to be very valuable on my trip.”

She nodded. “Now let’s get him put away and you back in bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

Happily Ever EVER After

I wish that life was a fairytale. You know, the kind when everything seems to turn out well for the good people in the end. The man and the woman always love each other; they never seem to get into arguments; they never make each other sad. And no matter what the heroine suffers in the story, everything is perfect in the end. Wouldn't that be amazing? But, sadly, life is not a fairytale. But, then again, if you count getting to Heaven, maybe it is? Perhaps I should look at Jesus as my shining Prince; all I have to do is get through the tortures of this life before I can reach the happily ever ever after.

True Love

Sometimes I wish I were in a fairytale. I was thinking about Ella again. I began to think about how wonderful it must be to know someone loves you for exactly who you are and nothing else. The prince loved her because she made him laugh, because of her conversation, because of her spirit. They didn't even kiss each other until he had proposed marriage. How beautiful! In today's world, everything is dominated by outward appearance. How we dress flatters our figures; the jewelry we wear shows how wealthy we are; every woman must wear makeup everyday to be normal. Many men base their attraction to a woman on how "hot" she is. Ella Enchanted, however, is a perfect example of true love rooted in deep admiration of one's character. That is so rare! I hardly ever wear makeup, honestly because I never have time to put it on, but sometimes I am glad I don't. This is me; this is who I am. I will be loved because of my character, and nothing else. Then again, I guess I better go work on that character. Part of being loved is being able to love in return, and that says a lot about character.

Real Women

Ella makes me laugh. She is certainly a character. Although, I couldn't help but feel that she was a little bit younger than fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen in the book. Perhaps that is because the book is written for children.

Another thing that bothered me about Ella is her somewhat revengeful nature. I mean, the things she did to characters they certainly deserved, but that didn't mean she had to do them. She was definitely selfless with people that she loved, but not with those she disliked. For example, she stole Hattie's wig; she stamped on Hattie's foot; she made fun of the tall girl at finishing school. She seemed to easily want to hurt those that took advantage of her. This may be something that feminists adore about Ella--the fact that she is able to take care of herself and do her very best to not be pushed around. However, I find this trait undesirable. Once again, I am probably being too old fashioned, but I think there is something to be said for someone who is able to take suffering without complaint, or at least to be kind even in the face of unkindness. I'm not saying we should all just let people tramp over us. We just shouldn't lower ourselves to their level. I really enjoyed Areida in the story, who seemed very competent and had a mind of her own, but took the jests of others without trying to get revenge. She even took care of the mean tall girl when she was sick.

There are people in this world who always even the score--people who take back what was stolen, return what harm was given, and make known their suffering by serving it to others. Ella was certainly not this revengeful, though she did have small bouts. I'm just saying there is a lot to be said for someone who can handle suffering quietly. That to me is a real woman; or even a real man.

Fly?

An update on what is going on in my fairytale:

Marion was taken aback. Fly? He had heard of these so called winged horses before, but he thought that they were only legends, or at least creatures of the long ago past. This was impossible. And if he really could fly, why was Hessa entrusting him to Marion?

“I believe in your quest,” Hessa said, as if she could read his mind. She was grinning at him and the light from her lantern caused shadows to dance across her face. It twinkled in her eyes, and he found a deep sense of trust resting in them. Both trust of her in him, and trust of him in her. It had been a long time since he had really trusted someone.

He nodded. “I appreciate your trust. And I am very grateful of your confidence in me as well as this amazing gift.”

“Oh it’s not a gift,” Hessa laughed. “I’m letting you borrow him. He belongs to me.” She began to unlatch the door to the stall as she reached for a halter hanging on a hook nearby. She pushed the door into the stall, stepping through the narrow gap and reaching underneath Veridus’s neck. Steadily the slipped the halter over his narrow face and latched it behind his ears. He grunted and nuzzled her in the shoulder. Then she swung the door open farther and began to lead him into the barn corridor.

The creature was even bigger up close. Marion, tall though he was, could barely see over Veridus’s whithers, and his chest was almost twice as wide as Marion’s. The horse snorted and glared at Marion, as if offended by his shocked expression.

“Come, I’ll show you how to ride him.” Hessa began to lead Veridus toward the door to the barn and out into the dim moonlight. The gate creaked again. Marion followed quickly behind, but it seemed he had barely passed through the gate before Hessa has swiftly mounted the horse and was off, sailing smoothly and silently through the night sky.

Sleeping

There once was a little girl who was very tired. She had a lot to do all the time, and she would just go and go until the day was done, and then she would lay down her little head on the pillow and fall fast asleep. But it seemed like her head had barely hit the pillow when she was up and going again. She always felt like she needed more sleep, but then she felt like she had things she needed to do even more than she needed sleep. So she would get up and go again. She became so good at running on adrenaline during the day that when she would sit down to watch a movie or even to hang out with her friends, she would fall asleep right her in chair. Sometimes she really wished that she was Sleeping Beauty and she could just sleep until her prince charming came to take her away and take care of her so that she never had to do anything really productive again. But then she decided that that would be boring.

Career Fairs and Fairytales

I went to career fair today and yesterday. It was insane. There were firms everywhere, people in suits and ties and shiny shoes; people offering rigid smiles and a firm shake of the hand; interviews, pamphlets, portfolios, resumes. Crazy. But right in the middle of it, I went to learn about children’s literature. What a break. And yet, the funny thing is, I could see a lot of these people right smack in the middle of a fairytale. There was a woman who interviewed me today who I swear was the evil stepmother of Cinderella in disguise. She was nice enough at first impression, but rigid, serious, powerful, and downright intimidating. Then there was the man that definitely came right out of Snow White. Grumpy was his name, and I’m sure that he booked the hotel with the lumpy bed last night; he was not in a good mood. But one girl was certainly the mischievous Red Riding Hood, short and thin, she peered at me beneath her glasses with quizzical, childlike eyes. I wish that I was Cinderella and stepping into that career fair in my beautiful, elaborate, magical business suit, all eyes on me, and all future employers utterly captivated.