Seven quick takes: Movies We’re Almost Ready To Watch

In our recent discussion about the dubious heroism of Columbus, Lincoln, and Joel Hodgson (well, somebody should have said Joel), The Jerk did his job as peacemaker, and poured soothing oils on the stormy waters of our dialogue by bringing up the subject of fluoridation.

For readers who are not familiar with The Jerk, he is this guy who writes for my blog, and he is a jerk.  What’s the matter, The Jerk — sick and tired of having a friendly chat with strangers online about vaccines, maybe, or circumcision?

I had actually completely forgotten that people get upset about fluoride.  But now that I remember, I can’t stop thinking about Dr. Strangelove, and how I wish my kids were old enough to watch it.

It got me to thinking about other movies that I’d like to show my kids, and which I think they would mostly enjoy — but there’s just a few scenes in there (or maybe more than a few) that make these movies out of the question for another couple of years.  Here’s the rest of the list:

–2–

Jaws

I’m halfway afraid that they won’t be terrified by this movie.  And that they won’t recognize the perfect story arc.  And that they won’t get the big deal about this scene:

–3–

Blazing Saddles

I campaign for this one regularly, and my husband always nixes it with this simple argument:  “Simmy, it’s one long d**k joke!”  Humph.  If I had known he was such a prude, I never would have — oh, never mind.

Well, it turns out he actually said that about

–4–

Young Frankenstein, another of my favorites.

Super dooper!  I don’t mean to lean too heavily on Mel Brooks, but I do feel that my children are only living partial lives until they understand what we mean by “Nice hopping.”

–5–

For a change of pace, how about Unbreakable?

This is one of my favorite movies of the decade — it’s so much more than a comic book movie.   Where Watchmen seethes with ludicrous self-importance, Unbreakable tells a plain and strange story of good and evil.  I wish people would give this movie a second look–it’s so delicately, movingly, and thrillingly done, and is full of hidden symbols.

–6–

Oh, wait, here we go: The Mummy

Here is the movie for which the word “awesome” was invented.  I can’t quite get myself to use this word in public yet, but I have to admit, this movie is indisputably awesome.

Besides being terrifying and genuinely funny, this is one of the very few action movies with an appealing heroine (and impeccable casting in general).  I didn’t realize how good Rachel Weisz is as Evy until we saw part 3 (The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor), which, among its many grave problems, had a different actress in the role – and it really wasn’t worth watching.

–7–

And of course my children’s cultural education won’t be complete until they see Army of Darkness

Everything’s cool!  I said the words.  I did!

Well, what’s on your list of cinematic genius that you’re dying to bequeath to the next generation?  Leave your list in the comment box, or do your own Seven Quick Takes (doesn’t have to be movies — most people just list seven random tidbits, which I find much harder than making a list), and leave a link to yours at Conversion Diary, where Jen hosts lists of links every Friday.  Don’t forget to link back to Jen if you do your own Seven Quick Takes.

Happy Friday!

(Cross-posted at the poor The Anchoress, who probably hoped for more than, “Ha ha, here’s my favorite fart scene!”)

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Furry sibling rivalry

(image source)

My kids fight sometimes.  Of course they do.  But I have long thought that well-meaning parents actually cause much of the sibling rivalry that worries them so.  Most parenting magazines, sooner or later, run an article for parents expecting baby #2, explaining how to guide the usurped older child through the horror and the devastation of bringing a new baby into the home.

Now, I don’t mean to be a pollyanna about what really happens.  Sometimes it’s not pretty.  Overall,  it’s about 98% good for older kids to have another sibling join the family.  But that other 2% of the time can be a little bloody.  Many’s the time I’ve had to intervene when the toddler starts out patting the baby gently, and somehow, without really meaning to, ends up rhythmically whacking the baby as hard as he can.  Nice baby, nice baby, nice baby, Nice!!! Baby!!!  Nice!!!  Baby!!!

So there are any number of books and articles about how to prepare the older kids for the newest arrival.  You  should explain in detail what to expect (newborn brothers can’t learn to play football right away), you remind them of how they’re allowed to eat ice cream and poor silly baby can’t, you make a fuss over them, you let them have private time with mom and dad, etc.

This is all fine, but I do think it goes overboard a little bit.  Angelina Ballerina, for instance, is a good example of a kid who is just being a jerk about it, and needs to be taken down a peg or two.   She trashes her room, as I recall, and firebombs Mrs. Hodgepodge’s potting shed.  Or something.  To make it up to her, they name her sister of the year and buy her a private island.  Or something.  I hate that mouse.

Anyway, the foregone conclusion in these ostensibly helpful books is that, by having a baby, you are wrecking your original kid’s world, and your main job now is to make atonement, and help them put back together the tatters of their former, only-childish happiness.

Naturally, kids pick up on this attitude.  If you are very afraid they will react badly, then they usually will. I have found it much more helpful to be very matter-of-fact about the new baby.  Of course you keep a close eye on the older kid’s reactions, and are kind, patient and understanding.  But don’t get carried away.

What is much more disturbing, however, is a new trend I’ve noticed in children’s books:  the “how to help your pet deal with the new baby” genre. I’ve seen two or three in the last few weeks, and I don’t get it.

Okay, I understand that you love your pup, and you don’t want him to be unhappy.  He’s been an Only Dog for many years, and this will be an adjustment.  Also, you want to avoid any revenge pooping, and you don’t want him to eat the new baby, either.  So it makes practical sense for there to be some guidance on how to prepare your pet for the new baby.

But … why are there children’s books about it?  Who are they for?  I do not understand.  I suppose these books are not necessarily instructive manuals, and it might be interesting for a child to read a story from a dog’s point of view.  And story books reflect whatever happens to be going on in the culture at large.  It’s become more common for couples to have a pet in the family for many years, and then, after long deliberation, they take the big leap and go ahead and buy a baby.  So, people write about what they know, and this is why there are books about it.

Echh, I don’t know, it still gives me the creeps.   I have the terrible suspicion that these picture books are for parents, who harbor some kind of resentment toward their own child, and want reassurance that everything will be okay, but don’t want to admit to anyone that they’re scared of their own newborn.

Or, or, are the adults reading these books to their dogs?  Am I making too much of this?  Just what is going on here?  Anyone?

(Cross-posted yesterday, due to me being not used to getting up this early, at The Anchoress)

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Pray to Edith Stein. It couldn’t hoit!

I don’t know what my problem is, but I have a problem with novenas.  I guess I’m overly cautious about superstition — maybe I’ve seen too many of those classified ads:  “Force the Sacred Heart of Jesus to grant your top wishes!”  I may be an idiot, but even I know better than to drag the Holy Spirit into a pyramid scheme.

But seriously, I do understand the theology behind a novena.  You’re just kind of proving to God that you really, really mean it, like the woman in Luke 18 who wouldn’t leave the judge alone, so he finally said, “[B]ecause this widow is troublesome to me, I will avenge her, lest continually coming she weary me.”  My kids know this method, too, and that is how I found myself at the cash register at Walmart, shelling out genuine cash dollars for three hideous Lisa Frank lunch boxes that they really, really, really, really wanted a lot.

Recently, someone heard that my husband was out of work, and she suggested a novena to Edith Stein.  I don’t know what the connection could be between Edith Stein and employment, and I couldn’t actually find a very good novena online.  The one that we ended up with turned out to be kind of a sacrifice in itself:  it’s so awkwardly and pretentiously written, I can’t decide if it was translated by a computer from another language, or just written by a sadist.

But my husband had been out of work for eight months, and we happened to get this tip about the novena on the day before Edith Stein’s feast day.  Not wanting to annoy God, who was clearly trying to get our attention, we started the novena.

He got a job on day 2.  We added a couple of other guys on, and they both got interviews — and they didn’t even get the full nine days!

So–what can I say?  As Edith Stein’s old Jewish grandmother used to say,* “It couldn’t hoit!” Here’s the novena we’re saying.  Maybe someone can suggest a better one?

*probably

I didn’t start with a photo of Edith Stein, because I couldn’t find the only nice one I’ve ever seen.  Normally, she looks crabby and irritated–not at all someone you’d ask for help–but I once saw a photo of her playing with a baby niece or someone, and she looked relaxed and happy.
Here’s an explanation of the picture at the top, according to the CASE website:

This beautiful painting of Our Lady protecting Europe illustrates the Christian roots of Europe, and shows Our Lady surrounded by six patron saints of Europe: SS Cyril and Methodius , St Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein), St Benedict, St Bridget of Sweden, and St Catherine of Siena. Robert Schumann, one of the founding fathers of the European Union, looks on. St Benedict offers the monastery of Canterbury to the Blessed Virgin, and St Cyril writes of the conversion of the Slavs.

The painting is by John Armstrong, who is involved in a forthcoming celebration of religious art in Liverpool:  see Vision of Hope.

(cross-posted at The Anchoress)

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Have you ever seen such cruelty?

I happened to pick up Isabelle Allende’s Island Beneath the Sea, and now I’m sorry.  Okay, so the cover said it was “[t]he sweeping story of an unforgettable woman–a slave and a concubine determined to claim her own destiny against impossible odds.”  So I was warned.

In my defense, I didn’t expect it to be great literature, and I assumed I’d have to skip some steamy parts (right-o).  But Allende’s earlier novel, The House of the Spirits, was actually a good book — not perfect, but interesting, carefully made, funny, and original.

Island was none of these.  The author apparently felt that what the world needs now is yet another novel about a strong and valiant woman who is cruelly crushed by western culture and masculinity, yet rises from the ashes and manages to learn to support herself and have children and orgasms — but historical!

I’ve never written fiction, but I know an early draft when I see one.  Even if you ignore the loud creaking noise made by the elderly clichés  described above, you will get lost in the disorder of this sloppy work.

Major plot points are exposed so clumsily that you can just hear the author thinking, “Crap, I meant to put that in sixty pages ago!  Well, a deadline’s a deadline — I’ll just cram it in . . . let’s see, here.”

Some characters are elaborately and meticulously introduced, only to evaporate without explanation in the second half of the book; while others leap fully-formed halfway through the plot, leaving the reader to wonder, “Wait, who is this guy?  How did he get to be so important?”  Subplots are hinted at, never to appear again, and satisfyingly huge denouements are promised, but all you get is a fizzle.

There are long, confusing passages of dry historical detail (the book takes place during the Haitian revolution, which should have been interesting) which are followed abruptly by hastily sketched-in descriptions of the cruelty of a slave’s life, the cruelty of a young student’s life, the cruelty of men toward women, etc.  I kept thinking about this scene from Blazing Saddles:

In Island Beneath the Sea, whole chapters go that way.

The prose (it can’t all be the translator’s fault) is also clunky beyond belief.  Wade through this if you can:

He was amazed by his ardor, renewed every night, and even at times at midday, when he arrived unexpectedly, boots covered with mud, and surprised her embroidering among the pillows of her bed, expelled the dogs with one sweep of his hands, and fell upon her with the jubilation of again feeling eighteen.  (271)

I knew a guy who surprised my embroidering once.  It wasn’t pretty.

So, to sum up:  Women damaged by rape and oppression, healed overnight by a tender lover who’s not so grabby?  Check.

Women controlling their fate through choosing when and where to be slutty?  Check.

Swooning approval of loathsome behavior as long as it’s done consensually in the name of lurve?  Check.

Catholic priest who’s a good guy mainly because he says that voodoo is basically the same as Catholicism, so you go right ahead and bite the head off that chicken?  Check.

Writing whole chapters in italics to show that certain characters are deep souls who speak interiorly? Check.

Dreadfully predictable switcheroo with an inexcusable number of various mixed-race babies?  Check, check, and check.

Railing against the senselessness of racism and sexism while shamelessly exploiting both in lieu of character development?  Check.  (For a quick reference guide:  dark skin=good; female=good.  Light skin=bad, male=bad.   Black female is double plus good; white male double plus ungood.)

Throw in some tutti fruity quasi-lyrical nonsense about surrendering to the power of the drums and the dance, and, according to Allende, you’ve got yourself a novel.  For a more insightful and entertaining exploration of race, just go ahead and watch Blazing Saddles.  It’s twoo, it’s twoo!

(Cross-posted at The Anchoress)

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Where’s Mama? Where’s Mama?

There she is!  Oh, um, sorry, I mean, please come see me in two other places today.

Such a day!  I have a piece up at Faith and Family Live–an interview with Kathy Rivet, who has been teaching Creighton Model NFP for over 30 years. Kathy has also been my instructor for about eight years, so I can personally attest to the fact that she is a woman of supernatural patience and fortitude.  Come check out what she has to say about the changes she’s seen in the world of NFP.

And today The Anchoress is going to Rome, and I’m not jealous at all, do you hear me?  She has very generously invited me, Danielle Bean, and Sally Thomas to write guest posts while she’s gone.  So come on over and see the video of Dolly Parton that I found!

How should I do this?  Should I post the same thing here and there?  Or should I just leave a note here to remind you to see me there?  What should I do?  Where did I put my coffee?  What’s that smell?  You thought it was okay to just step over this mess and keep on walking? And with a track record like this, you think I’m going to get you a dog???

Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to again.  Nooo, I wouldn’t rather be in Rome….

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