This post is like three things in one, but they all link up in my head somehow. The first is that "Ten formative books" meme, the second is
teasel's wonderful post about the parallels of Arwen's vision and Sam's homecoming in ROTK. The third is about having children or not. I'll try to make it follow in some kind of logical way!
These are supposed to be books that shaped who you are, as I understand it. I love so many books, but it took me, like, all day to come up with ten that I felt became part of "me."
1. The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper. This is the second book in a series, but I read it first. The entry should count as the whole series, but this was the one that sucked me in at 11. Mostly, I loved Will, a person who was much more on the inside than he was on the outside, who had all this burden of knowledge, and struggled with ethical questions head-on. (Years later I read a very stupid book where the author listed children's books and judged them and she hated TDiR. One of her problems was the very ethical questions that I loved. The other was that Will Stanton was completely unbelievable as a powerful wizard because he was so ordinary. He's a stocky boy with a pleasant round face and hair that fell like a curtain--a wizard must look special, apparently. Well, what did she think the appeal was, if not the idea that someone who gets overlooked can be the one who is special? What an idiot!)
Also, I think it's kind of interesting now I'm in HP that Will remains my own boy wizard who comes into his powers at 11, not just because Will is technically more powerful than Harry (owing to the way his universe is arranged) but because Will isn't really about power at all, but knowledge. He has power, yes, but he's not portrayed dynamically as Harry is. He's all about wisdom.
2.) Blubber by Judy Blume. I was never a big fan of Judy Blume, but I read this one over and over. It seemed the most real to me, especially the main character in some ways. It's about a class who picks on one girl in it, Linda. When the main character finally stands against it--not to protect Linda, but just on a matter of personal principle, the class turns on her. This soon fizzles out, though, and I felt it was mostly because Jill was a far less attractive target than Linda. It just seemed to say a lot of correct things about human nature, and the importance of independence.
3) Lord of the Rings by JRRTolkien. 8 years after Will, I discovered Frodo and again I think I loved this idea of the ordinary fellow with the knowledge as a burden. Both Frodo and Will are forced to dedicate themselves solely to a higher cause and just do it. Both require a second look before their specialness is apparent. Both wrestle with ethical questions and the importance of compassion (the opposite of which is explored in Blubber. And both books have an overarching emotional theme of homesickness underlying ever other emotion.
4) Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones. I love this woman because her books are all based on some fantastic IDEA she somehow makes work. The opening of this book was one of the most exciting things I ever read. What happens is basically a character sits down to read a book of short stories, then thinks, "Wait, didn't this book used to have different short stories in it?" This leads her to realize, "Wait...isn't my life actually totally different than the way I think it is?" And she makes it so realistic it could happen to me!
5) Pinocchio's Sister by Jan Slepian. This was a book published at the house I used to work at and is now stupidly OOP. Even more stupidly, I did not take a copy before I left. I used to read the proofs over and over. It's about a girl named Martha who travels with her father during the dying days of vaudeville. Martha loves her father, but her father sometimes seems to love Iris more. Iris is his ventriloquist's dummy. As the opening promises, this is a scary story. But the monsters in this story are jealousy and hurt and carelessness with love.
6) Strange Objects by Gary Crew. Proof that Australia is one of the most incredible countries on earth, because this book could only have been written by an Australian. It's got what for this American is the unique Australian "submitted for your approval," storytelling style with no answers, only questions that get more and more disturbing and intriguing until every little phrase seems loaded with meaning. (Yes, this is the same country that brought us Picnic at Hanging Rock) A severed hand discovered on a school trip you say? Where do I sign up??!
7) The Complete Works of Saki by H. H. Munroe, aka Saki. I think if there's one author that had the most influence on my "style" it's probably Saki. I discovered him as a teenager and he seemed to write like I did, only GOOD. I've always had a bit of a disconnect between the kinds of books I love to read, and the subject and style of how I write, and Saki showed me the two could possible overlap! My favorites of his stories are probably "Sredni Vashtar," "The Open Window," and "The Unrest Cure." (The last one unfortunately now takes on sinister tones, as the kind of atrocity joked about for its absurdity in the 20's ended up becoming a reality in the 1940s.)
8) Remembrance of Things Past by Marcel Proust. Is this pretentious? I can't help it. I love the guy. He describes certain odd things I would have been sure I was the only person to ever feel-and the fact that he can describe them in all their slipperiness is amazing. I tried to read him the first time and couldn't, then picked the book up again years later sure the book had magically changed when I wasn't looking because I remembered it so differently. (See entry 4: Fire and Hemlock!!) At the same time, it's just so silly and so is he you have to love it.
9) Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. I had a hard time choosing between this and Something Wicked This Way Comes, and between that and his collected short stories. I went with this because it just seems like he's writing about my hometown, even though he's obviously not. The not-quite-real quality just makes it more right, and little moments in it stay with me like they happened to me, especially the romantic interlude between the young reporter and old lady adventurer who both love lime-vanilla ice. Sometimes his writing just makes me cry it's so homesick-inspiring.
10) Danse Macabre by Stephen King. When I look at the shape this book is in, it obviously must belong here. It's faded from being read in the sun, the cover's fallen off from being opened so much and it's warped by me reading it in the bathtub. I must have been about 11 when I got it? I remember losing myself to it for that first day, sitting in my rocking chair. It's nonfiction, with King talking about different types of horror stories and movies, full of pictures. It was no doubt the #1 influence over my chosen reading and movie watching throughout my adolescence. Instead of stumbling around looking for the good horror, Steve gave it right to me, and he wrote lovely essays about the stuff besides. As you can imagine, I enjoyed that.
Wow. I can't believe I did it. And what a strange list--but then, most people's I've read have been eclectic. This is a great meme!
If you read Teasel's post you see the statements ROTK the movie and LOTR makes about children. Arwen and Sam don't just choose romantic love, they choose a mortal's immortality--they become part of the generations of the world. In this they stand in contrast to Frodo who goes over the sea. But what I think is important about Frodo is that while he doesn't have his own children, he still makes the same choice, in a way.
How to explain...well, I remember having a discussion with someone about TDiR once. I loved Will, she loved Bran. She said to me, jokingly, "Will? Pssht! That's like being in love with a priest!" And there's some truth to that--both Will and Frodo are characters somewhat defined by their isolation, "spirituality" and otherworldly wisdom. Although there is no indication that Old Ones like Will can't marry and have children (and in fact I think we're told that they can and do) Will is still separate from human life because he isn't human. Frodo stands out in his society by not following the hobbit pattern of marrying and having children. I think it's maybe significant both of these characters struck me so hard, even at a young age, because of that. In the beginning of TDiR Will's family describes him as "a very old 11 [year-old"]...almost ageless." I've always thought of Frodo as being "ageless" as well. Not just because he literally stops aging after getting the ring, but because he has that quality regardless. I imagine him seeming older than his age as a child, and younger than his age as an adult. In canon his closest companion in his tweens is Bilbo, who is over 100, and as an adult his friends are significantly younger than he is. This ageless quality is helped by Frodo's not having children. He never moves literally through the stages of youth, father and old man, so is only ever defined by himself. (In my own life, people seem to assume that whatever age they are, so am I. Happens all the time. In fact I was going to do a post on cross-generational relationships, but that will wait.)
What I maybe always liked about Frodo (and Will) was that they validated this life as being important while not setting it against a life of marriage and children. Some people know from a very early age that they are gay, even if it's only in retrospect that they can identify it as such. I think I always knew I would be single. Not in terms of sexuality, just that I never pictured myself married or with children. Sometimes I imagine how nice it would be to be both, but I've always felt like I "knew" I would be single. I remember having this odd picture of life as an adult as a kid, and it was an apartment where I lived alone. (What was odd was it was not an apartment that looked like I'd decorated it--and the colors were very 1970's as I recall.)
The thing that can suck about that is that some people get ridiculous about this life choice. They do it in both directions nowadays, with some single people acting like it's somehow a character flaw to have children. But historically, I think single people were always the weirdoes, and in many places they still are, particularly if they are women. I remember getting the feeling in 19th century lit that single women were essentially defective mothers and little else. They failed at being a real woman by attracting a husband and having children, so they were relegated to a sad imitation as a governess or a schoolteacher, getting to take care of other people's children and houses, then fading into the background when the real mothers came on the scene. They were like extra pieces hanging around with no real place for themselves.
To me this has always seemed absurd, though, because it seems like single people are a vital part of every society. Frodo and Will both have a very important role in life. Their societies would literally be lost without them. And maybe what's weird about that for me is that both of them become willing tools for things beyond them, yet as a single person I have always been my own master in ways people with responsibilities to their children can not be. So maybe Will and Frodo are both a sign that just existing this way can be important and "right" even if you never literally get called in to be part of a quest. Even outside of the Ring Quest, Frodo is important. He and Bilbo both have a huge effect on Sam without his being their son--it's through them that Sam realizes his full potential and sees the world. This is especially helpful to think about when I get faced with somebody convinced single people are some form of lesser being. I've had two guys on TORC smugly explain that of course I lived an inherently selfish life because I could never know the total selflessness of being parent. What was funny is both these guys got highly offended when I pointed out--quite logically, I thought--that the desire for children was just as selfish as any other desire. People don't have children because they want to change diapers, they have them for the joys children bring. Even if they had the child "by accident" I assume they get joy out of them. I thought it was frankly weird that these idiots were trying to deny that and pretend they didn't have children because it pumped them up to make a child and have that child call them dad and possibly take care of them in their old age. Of course they had to put their child's needs ahead of their own desires at times, but to suggest a single person never puts aside her own desires for some other purpose is absurd.
So I think an important thing about Frodo is that he doesn't choose a "higher" life by going over the sea, although yes, spiritually he has entered the realm of the mythic while Sam is still firmly part of the world. He has simply chosen the path right for him, and he still gives to Sam's children in his way. That is, they have his blessing. He has provided for them and enriched their world in the way that was right for him. He's still an important part of the Shire just as Sam is still important to those who go over the sea. His influence is still felt, even before he finally arrives.
Why do I somehow not think it's a coincidence that these characters are male? Single men have always gotten more respect, methinks.
These are supposed to be books that shaped who you are, as I understand it. I love so many books, but it took me, like, all day to come up with ten that I felt became part of "me."
1. The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper. This is the second book in a series, but I read it first. The entry should count as the whole series, but this was the one that sucked me in at 11. Mostly, I loved Will, a person who was much more on the inside than he was on the outside, who had all this burden of knowledge, and struggled with ethical questions head-on. (Years later I read a very stupid book where the author listed children's books and judged them and she hated TDiR. One of her problems was the very ethical questions that I loved. The other was that Will Stanton was completely unbelievable as a powerful wizard because he was so ordinary. He's a stocky boy with a pleasant round face and hair that fell like a curtain--a wizard must look special, apparently. Well, what did she think the appeal was, if not the idea that someone who gets overlooked can be the one who is special? What an idiot!)
Also, I think it's kind of interesting now I'm in HP that Will remains my own boy wizard who comes into his powers at 11, not just because Will is technically more powerful than Harry (owing to the way his universe is arranged) but because Will isn't really about power at all, but knowledge. He has power, yes, but he's not portrayed dynamically as Harry is. He's all about wisdom.
2.) Blubber by Judy Blume. I was never a big fan of Judy Blume, but I read this one over and over. It seemed the most real to me, especially the main character in some ways. It's about a class who picks on one girl in it, Linda. When the main character finally stands against it--not to protect Linda, but just on a matter of personal principle, the class turns on her. This soon fizzles out, though, and I felt it was mostly because Jill was a far less attractive target than Linda. It just seemed to say a lot of correct things about human nature, and the importance of independence.
3) Lord of the Rings by JRRTolkien. 8 years after Will, I discovered Frodo and again I think I loved this idea of the ordinary fellow with the knowledge as a burden. Both Frodo and Will are forced to dedicate themselves solely to a higher cause and just do it. Both require a second look before their specialness is apparent. Both wrestle with ethical questions and the importance of compassion (the opposite of which is explored in Blubber. And both books have an overarching emotional theme of homesickness underlying ever other emotion.
4) Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones. I love this woman because her books are all based on some fantastic IDEA she somehow makes work. The opening of this book was one of the most exciting things I ever read. What happens is basically a character sits down to read a book of short stories, then thinks, "Wait, didn't this book used to have different short stories in it?" This leads her to realize, "Wait...isn't my life actually totally different than the way I think it is?" And she makes it so realistic it could happen to me!
5) Pinocchio's Sister by Jan Slepian. This was a book published at the house I used to work at and is now stupidly OOP. Even more stupidly, I did not take a copy before I left. I used to read the proofs over and over. It's about a girl named Martha who travels with her father during the dying days of vaudeville. Martha loves her father, but her father sometimes seems to love Iris more. Iris is his ventriloquist's dummy. As the opening promises, this is a scary story. But the monsters in this story are jealousy and hurt and carelessness with love.
6) Strange Objects by Gary Crew. Proof that Australia is one of the most incredible countries on earth, because this book could only have been written by an Australian. It's got what for this American is the unique Australian "submitted for your approval," storytelling style with no answers, only questions that get more and more disturbing and intriguing until every little phrase seems loaded with meaning. (Yes, this is the same country that brought us Picnic at Hanging Rock) A severed hand discovered on a school trip you say? Where do I sign up??!
7) The Complete Works of Saki by H. H. Munroe, aka Saki. I think if there's one author that had the most influence on my "style" it's probably Saki. I discovered him as a teenager and he seemed to write like I did, only GOOD. I've always had a bit of a disconnect between the kinds of books I love to read, and the subject and style of how I write, and Saki showed me the two could possible overlap! My favorites of his stories are probably "Sredni Vashtar," "The Open Window," and "The Unrest Cure." (The last one unfortunately now takes on sinister tones, as the kind of atrocity joked about for its absurdity in the 20's ended up becoming a reality in the 1940s.)
8) Remembrance of Things Past by Marcel Proust. Is this pretentious? I can't help it. I love the guy. He describes certain odd things I would have been sure I was the only person to ever feel-and the fact that he can describe them in all their slipperiness is amazing. I tried to read him the first time and couldn't, then picked the book up again years later sure the book had magically changed when I wasn't looking because I remembered it so differently. (See entry 4: Fire and Hemlock!!) At the same time, it's just so silly and so is he you have to love it.
9) Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. I had a hard time choosing between this and Something Wicked This Way Comes, and between that and his collected short stories. I went with this because it just seems like he's writing about my hometown, even though he's obviously not. The not-quite-real quality just makes it more right, and little moments in it stay with me like they happened to me, especially the romantic interlude between the young reporter and old lady adventurer who both love lime-vanilla ice. Sometimes his writing just makes me cry it's so homesick-inspiring.
10) Danse Macabre by Stephen King. When I look at the shape this book is in, it obviously must belong here. It's faded from being read in the sun, the cover's fallen off from being opened so much and it's warped by me reading it in the bathtub. I must have been about 11 when I got it? I remember losing myself to it for that first day, sitting in my rocking chair. It's nonfiction, with King talking about different types of horror stories and movies, full of pictures. It was no doubt the #1 influence over my chosen reading and movie watching throughout my adolescence. Instead of stumbling around looking for the good horror, Steve gave it right to me, and he wrote lovely essays about the stuff besides. As you can imagine, I enjoyed that.
Wow. I can't believe I did it. And what a strange list--but then, most people's I've read have been eclectic. This is a great meme!
If you read Teasel's post you see the statements ROTK the movie and LOTR makes about children. Arwen and Sam don't just choose romantic love, they choose a mortal's immortality--they become part of the generations of the world. In this they stand in contrast to Frodo who goes over the sea. But what I think is important about Frodo is that while he doesn't have his own children, he still makes the same choice, in a way.
How to explain...well, I remember having a discussion with someone about TDiR once. I loved Will, she loved Bran. She said to me, jokingly, "Will? Pssht! That's like being in love with a priest!" And there's some truth to that--both Will and Frodo are characters somewhat defined by their isolation, "spirituality" and otherworldly wisdom. Although there is no indication that Old Ones like Will can't marry and have children (and in fact I think we're told that they can and do) Will is still separate from human life because he isn't human. Frodo stands out in his society by not following the hobbit pattern of marrying and having children. I think it's maybe significant both of these characters struck me so hard, even at a young age, because of that. In the beginning of TDiR Will's family describes him as "a very old 11 [year-old"]...almost ageless." I've always thought of Frodo as being "ageless" as well. Not just because he literally stops aging after getting the ring, but because he has that quality regardless. I imagine him seeming older than his age as a child, and younger than his age as an adult. In canon his closest companion in his tweens is Bilbo, who is over 100, and as an adult his friends are significantly younger than he is. This ageless quality is helped by Frodo's not having children. He never moves literally through the stages of youth, father and old man, so is only ever defined by himself. (In my own life, people seem to assume that whatever age they are, so am I. Happens all the time. In fact I was going to do a post on cross-generational relationships, but that will wait.)
What I maybe always liked about Frodo (and Will) was that they validated this life as being important while not setting it against a life of marriage and children. Some people know from a very early age that they are gay, even if it's only in retrospect that they can identify it as such. I think I always knew I would be single. Not in terms of sexuality, just that I never pictured myself married or with children. Sometimes I imagine how nice it would be to be both, but I've always felt like I "knew" I would be single. I remember having this odd picture of life as an adult as a kid, and it was an apartment where I lived alone. (What was odd was it was not an apartment that looked like I'd decorated it--and the colors were very 1970's as I recall.)
The thing that can suck about that is that some people get ridiculous about this life choice. They do it in both directions nowadays, with some single people acting like it's somehow a character flaw to have children. But historically, I think single people were always the weirdoes, and in many places they still are, particularly if they are women. I remember getting the feeling in 19th century lit that single women were essentially defective mothers and little else. They failed at being a real woman by attracting a husband and having children, so they were relegated to a sad imitation as a governess or a schoolteacher, getting to take care of other people's children and houses, then fading into the background when the real mothers came on the scene. They were like extra pieces hanging around with no real place for themselves.
To me this has always seemed absurd, though, because it seems like single people are a vital part of every society. Frodo and Will both have a very important role in life. Their societies would literally be lost without them. And maybe what's weird about that for me is that both of them become willing tools for things beyond them, yet as a single person I have always been my own master in ways people with responsibilities to their children can not be. So maybe Will and Frodo are both a sign that just existing this way can be important and "right" even if you never literally get called in to be part of a quest. Even outside of the Ring Quest, Frodo is important. He and Bilbo both have a huge effect on Sam without his being their son--it's through them that Sam realizes his full potential and sees the world. This is especially helpful to think about when I get faced with somebody convinced single people are some form of lesser being. I've had two guys on TORC smugly explain that of course I lived an inherently selfish life because I could never know the total selflessness of being parent. What was funny is both these guys got highly offended when I pointed out--quite logically, I thought--that the desire for children was just as selfish as any other desire. People don't have children because they want to change diapers, they have them for the joys children bring. Even if they had the child "by accident" I assume they get joy out of them. I thought it was frankly weird that these idiots were trying to deny that and pretend they didn't have children because it pumped them up to make a child and have that child call them dad and possibly take care of them in their old age. Of course they had to put their child's needs ahead of their own desires at times, but to suggest a single person never puts aside her own desires for some other purpose is absurd.
So I think an important thing about Frodo is that he doesn't choose a "higher" life by going over the sea, although yes, spiritually he has entered the realm of the mythic while Sam is still firmly part of the world. He has simply chosen the path right for him, and he still gives to Sam's children in his way. That is, they have his blessing. He has provided for them and enriched their world in the way that was right for him. He's still an important part of the Shire just as Sam is still important to those who go over the sea. His influence is still felt, even before he finally arrives.
Why do I somehow not think it's a coincidence that these characters are male? Single men have always gotten more respect, methinks.
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Like you, I could never realistically picture myself as anything other than single. I played with my dolls and treated them like my babies, but I always knew that marriage and motherhood would probably not be in the cards for me. And like you, I was always drawn to these characters, like Frodo, who were important in spite of, and maybe even because of being alone. And I felt this way about all such characters, even those who weren't called to greatness. One of my favorite great spinsters of all time is Betsey Trotwood from David Copperfield---where on earth would poor David have been without her? I think one of the reasons I have such a low tolerance for Mary-Sue fiction (especially Mary-Sue fiction where Mary-Sue produces a child for Frodo) is because it takes Frodo so far from the solitary character with whom I feel such kinship, and also denies his essential nature. What is there about Frodo's canonical character to suggest that he ever had any interest in being a proud papa? And yet after the Quest, his wounds shall suddenly be assuaged because he holds his babe in his arms? Groooooan. Equally dreadful is any suggestion that having children is somehow a greater accomplishment than the Quest. Because yeah, that saving the world business sure can't compare to knocking up your girlfriend!
Fictional characters aside, let me say that I am tired, tired, tired of hearing parenthood celebrated as the most noble and life-defining act of selflessness to which we can achieve. I'm in my thirties now, and many of thirtysomething acquaintances are starting to have kids---and they're usually doing it either by accident or because they see that big four-oh looming on the horizon and suddenly feel like their education and careers and all the other things they've done for the past 35 years just aren't all that "fulfilling." How is that not selfish? A friend of mine who always wanted to have girls just gave birth to her second boy, and I know damn well she's going to keep having kids, or at least keep trying, until she gets that little girl that she can dress up and have tea parties with. That's not selfish? And yet someone like that still gets to lord it over me, with my "selfish" single life.
I have never, ever, heard anyone say they want to have kids because life is so beautiful that they want to create more people to experience it. NEVER. The number one reason that I hear people give for having kids is because it's something they need to do in order to achieve a sense of personal fulfillment. That's the very definition of selfish---they're dragging someone into this often abysmally difficult life so that they can feel like they've done something with their own. That's fine for them, but I just have no tolerance for people who act like they've answered some sort of higher calling by having kids, one that the childless are too self-absorbed or just plain weird to hear.
Interestingly, this is one of those issues where the line of "it's just fandom" blurs (recalling your post the other day). When I hear people dismiss Frodo's solitary nature as some sort of aberration wrought by the Ring's influence, I have to wonder---what do they really think about people like me?
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The suggestion that it's a tragedy that Frodo didn't have children is just incredibly presumptuous, using one person's life as the measure upon which everyone's life should be judged. It takes somebody who accomplished a lot in his life and not only assumes that his real potential wasn't tapped but that he should feel unfulfilled.
To me it always seemed like Frodo probably liked children just fine, but wasn't naturally family oriented as I think Sam clearly is. If Sam hadn't married Rosie I've no doubt he would have married someone else-and possibly been just as happy. Not just because Rosie's not a very detailed character but because Sam, I think, was a husband and father type before he ever got married. Had Rosie died young, he probably would have eventually remarried--he had a big heart.
it takes Frodo so far from the solitary character with whom I feel such kinship, and also denies his essential nature. What is there about Frodo's canonical character to suggest that he ever had any interest in being a proud papa? And yet after the Quest, his wounds shall suddenly be assuaged because he holds his babe in his arms? Groooooan. Equally dreadful is any suggestion that having children is somehow a greater accomplishment than the Quest. Because yeah, that saving the world business sure can't compare to knocking up your girlfriend
Grrr. That is so condescending. And I don't mind admitting that when there's not all that many solitary hero characters I don't appreciate having the few there are taken away from me, as if these characters aren't fully formed in themselves, just family guys cut off before their story was finished. I mean, yes, give respect to motherhood, but it's stepping over the line to claim it's always the highest calling, particularly when the end of the world is at stake. It just seems so bizarre to me, especially since I've always been more taken by things like books and stories--to me, creating something like LOTR is even more miraculous, since it's not something as many people are physically capable of.
The number one reason that I hear people give for having kids is because it's something they need to do in order to achieve a sense of personal fulfillment.
Exactly--and that's a good thing because raising kids and be hard so if you didn't have any personal incentive people probably wouldn't do it! I guess again it's a lot like writing--nobody writes a novel for selfless reasons, they put the effort in because they are getting a reward out of it, even if the reward isn't all one might hope for. It's the labor of love thing for a good parent and a good writer.
Interestingly, this is one of those issues where the line of "it's just fandom" blurs (recalling your post the other day). When I hear people dismiss Frodo's solitary nature as some sort of aberration wrought by the Ring's influence, I have to wonder---what do they really think about people like me?
Yes, because clearly this is drawing from life to interpret the character. It's amazing that it's sometimes a battle to get people to accept the characters' own choices made in canon. It's not like you have to do that for Sam and suggest that his getting married is the result of social pressure or a longing for the ring. Doing something worthwhile while being childless is not a consolation prize or a way to fill the hole, it's a life.
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This is very interesting to me, though I don't get the significance of 1970s (since, as you point out, I don't know how old you are). Still, the fantasy of an independent life, but as if in *someone else*'s home... /amateur Freud hour.
Certainly I think LotR values homosocial bonds at least as much as familial ones. But I think there is something very melancholic about the end. It's part of the whole dying world, WWI element to me... I feel like, while of course Frodo's contribution is just as valuable and his name will be remembered, there is a sense in which he will not continue in the world the way that Sam will. It's very poignant. And a great chance for me to use a favorite icon *g*...
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I definitely agree about the melancholic end of LOTR. I mean, one of the things about the quest is that once it's destroyed the world is changed. The magic is leaving, and Frodo is part of that. His part is over and he only lives on in the tale, in the memories, while Sam has a whole life to live in the Shire. Nobody in the Shire ever gets what significance Frodo had, and Bilbo lives on only as "Mad Baggins" who disappears leaving mysterious pots of gold.:-)
And I love that icon. When I was reading The Great War and Modern Memory I was amazed at how LOTR seemed to fit everything it was saying about WW1 lit.
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One of my childhood ambitions was to be an interior decorator. Another was to be a flight attendant ("stewardess" as we said then). More proof, as if any were needed, that I am in fact a gay man.
I never read that Paul Fussell book. I must, one day.
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But of course--you were going to live on tv!
I'm still waiting. But with reality shows now, it's beginning to seem less attractive.
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Single men have always gotten more respect, methinks.
So true. Single elderly men get the term 'bachelor' while single elderly women are called 'old maids'.
I like what you said about selflish vs. selflessness. I remember hearing about pioneer families, farming families who settled in North American a hundred years ago--the only reason they had children was to help out with the farm. Nowadays it's not exactly the same case, but I don't know how many people I've heard say they don't want to die alone. Selfless? I don't know, what do you call making another person to keep you company when you're old? I guess I better check my dictionary.
In any case, you should always have children, because they choose your retirement home.
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I'll have to watch Sex and the City from the beginning. I only got HBO this year so I saw the end of it, but by then the characters had probably already developed a lot.
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And you're the second person I've seen who put Proust. Interesting.
Frodo.
His childlessness always seemed to me just a fragment of his withdrawl from hobbit society. I have not read the Cooper (though this is now part of the books-I-must-read-because-of-this-damn-meme list) but it's interesting to compare the two to preists, people who are necessarily more spiritual and withdrawn from the normal course of life.
Yet I think Frodo is a bit different. Will might be a priest sort, being very wise and powerful and on a different path than most. Frodo isn't on a different path, though. Frodo had no path left. Priests walk in a different way but they still walk in the world. Frodo had no connections left. Or rather he had Sam, but this was not enough. He was too wounded and couldn't manage. And staying with Sam ended up tearing Sam apart. He certainly did give to Sam and Sam's family, both by money and approval and by his own leaving. But he also gave to all of the hobbit society and everyone in general by doing the quest in the first place.
Hmm.. I wouldn't have thought twice about the idea of Frodo having children if not for that other post you linked to (lovely post). Arwen and Sam stay for life and family and children. The normal sorts of connections to life. Frodo not only didn't have this, but he didn't have community or life in the Shire. Not having a wife and kids pales in comparison, to me. Bilbo lived as a batchelor and was perfectly happy and well-liked. Frodo didn't even have that.
But now that I'm forced to think of it this way, compared to Sam and Arwen, it brings up interesting assumptions. One of the reasons why I was drawn to Frodo/Sam slash even though it makes little sense is because the ending for Frodo was so desperately sad. When I spoke of Sam and Arwen I said they had a spouse and family, the normal connections to life. Frodo and Sam have great love for each other, but obviously it's not enough. Not That Sort Of Love, not strong enough to sustain life. Slash tries to interfere with that concept. And we might well question it. We might well try to interfere.
Though I think in the end what we really want is to save Frodo. We want Sam's love to be able to save him. Yet we can't save Frodo. That was the story. He gave everything up, and he can't stay. We want Sam to love him enough to save him--hell, even Sam wants this--but it can't be. Even if they were male and female and had thier own kids, I don't think Frodo could have been saved by it.
Which brings us back to the idea of Frodo as priest. And I guess I agree with that, but in Frodo's case I don't think it goes far enough.
And no, it's not a coincidence that all of these characters are male. Not at all. In fact I can't think of a single story where there's a woman/priest-sort. You get wise women who live alone and are great characters, but they're never the main character, just wise helpers. You get girls who are independent and kick ass and use magic, but those stories always seem to end before the question of marriage and kids ever comes up. You never see your female hero grow up to watch her friends marry and have children. You never see your female character give that up in order to pursue wisdom or because she just can't have it. I can imagine it, but I haven't seen it.
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The later Frodo is of course a different story. He's wounded--and probably the last thing on his mind is looking for a girl to marry at that point! I think his gifts to Sam show that he wishes he could still be part of the Shire, but he's looking at it from further and further away. Even the quiet connections he had in the past as the Master of Bag End are too much to maintain, so he goes away. Presumably he will have a life over the sea after he's healed. In fact, it seems like Tolkien suggested that part of his healing was in gaining understanding of his role in the world, so it's almost like he's entering into a spiritual study at the end of the story rather than at the beginning. Because he hasn't become wise on the scale of, say, Gandalf at the end of the story, but I think he's been changed enough that he needs to start on a path of study more like Gandalf's. That's kind of happy, in a way, because it suggests Frodo's still got more growing to do and will do it.
It's just not the type of thing that Sam could do for him, and I think they both understand that. Frodo, it seems, needs more teaching, more understanding, not just nurturing as Sam would give him. So he's still sort of a Seeker and a Student as he always was and it seems like that would be a comfort for him. Like, he knows how to do this. Being the leader of a quest was foreign to him, but I expect he's comfortable learning as he learned from Bilbo and Gandalf.
You never see your female hero grow up to watch her friends marry and have children. You never see your female character give that up in order to pursue wisdom or because she just can't have it. I can imagine it, but I haven't seen it.
Yeah, part of the thing is that with female characters it's a question that seems to need to be answered while with male characters it's not. If the confirmed bachelor gets married it's usually more a case of taming him rather than his realizing his life is empty. His life clearly wasn't empty before, and that's why it's a struggle to give it up to settle down.
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Frodo's journey across the sea is very much up for interpretation. But in a way he really did give up the world. It's... well, this may be opinion, I guess it has to be given the subject matter, but it's not just that Sam can't teach him the wisdom he needs. Of course he can't, but I think that if elves were still around and Frodo went to live with them, it wouldn't have helped. It would have gone better, probably, than trying to live with hobbits. And if he could hang around with Gandalf for a while then perhaps some psychological and philosophical healing would have ensued. I think he needed more than that.
When he went across the sea he became something different. Like dying and moving on to another world.
Hmm. Now I'm not sure what I'm saying. I don't know how to say it. Frodo's ending was unutterably sad to me, yet also perfect, and I don't like to give that up. :) It isn't hopeless because yes he does move on to a heaven-like place and get the healing he needs. Yet what does that even mean? The Grey Havens aren't something we really understand.
When I think about now I've got the book and the movie all mixed up in my head. When it comes to things like this, they're quite different. Frodo's age means more. His suffering was more explained in the book, as well. In the movie he just seemed in physical pain and eternally sad. The book described it a little bit more.
Maybe I'm still too emotional about it and can't think it through. Each time I got into Tolkien it was like being sucked in, and I wasn't ever able to really figure out what I thought of everything. But the end of the third book broke my heart. It broke when Frodo chose to keep the ring (which really surprised and shocked me) and it broke when Frodo slowly wasted away in the Shire. I know there are more hopeful interpretations and I know there are more religious interpretations but part of my mind says, sometimes people just don't make it. Sometimes things cannot be healed. Those people need stories, too.
It depends if you think that things can always be healed, somehow. Some people think that. It might be true. But I think I don't believe it. And while Frodo's end broke my heart and I got into the slash 'cause I wanted Sam to heal him, in a way I was glad for his story as is. Because I think some things cannot be healed. Those stories need telling, too.
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But what I like too is that it's not like death in terms of just a sort of...numb peace. It's more an earned peace, a peace that comes with an understanding and wisdom, as opposed to just going to sleep. So it is sad--heh-usually I'm sort of the person arguing for the sadness of it because I don't want to give it up either. But it's not a pathetic kind of sad with Frodo being carried off broken. He's like...both stronger and broken, almost like he's so strong after this big challenge but he's now too pure or vulnerable to exist in this world. So even the elves aren't just offering him comfort, he still has to work through things himself. Tolkien says he *might* be healed over the sea. Nothing is certain, though given what Frodo's capable of it's hard for me to believe he couldn't make his own way.
It's true in reading the book you really can't figure it all out, but that's kind of as it should be. It's not something that can be reduced to just a psychological state or a physical illness or a spell. We just sort of withdraw. The movie, it's true, can't give us all of that, but I'm glad it doesn't negate it either. I try to fill in the missing information from the book in those scenes.:-)
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*sigh* and people don't think Frodo is a hero.
The movie didn't manage to do as much as the book did, but in a way the Annie Lenox song did. I find it going through my head as we're talking about all this. It really was a beutiful song. Did you know they wrote it for a friend who died young during filming? that seems to add to it, somehow.
Sauron is very gay. He watches Funny Girl with Saruman on Wednesday nights.
ahem. That was a friend's addition when I was away from the computer.
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ahem. That was a friend's addition when I was away from the computer.
But it's all true!
From: (Anonymous)
stories
2. the confirmed bachelor gets married [because he realizes] his life is empty [without marriage and kids]
Could someone please write these stories so I can read them?
Leshii
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a good woman is hard to find
In fact I can't think of a single story where there's a woman/priest-sort.
Interestingly enough, of all the material I've consumed, books, movies, and anime, I can off-hand only think of one character with a woman/priest role AND who has the main character marquee. Of all things it's in a Japanese anime; it's a culture notorious for separating boys' and girls' genres, and injecting romance everywhere (though the lines have been blurring over the last decade.) It's a girl named Ruki (Rika in the dub) in Digmon's third season, Digimon Tamers. Her family unit was her grandmother and mother and herself. She starts out as the most bellicose of the group, then takes on what I can only describe as more of a shamanaic / protector role. Granted it was a hard-to-soft shift, but at no point was her independence compromised. I adore her so much. Digimon like a lot of other franchises loved to recycle plots and characters, and her "slot" had been taken by boys in previous seasons. Even then they injected tension between her and her very feminine modelling mother; not a boy in girl's sneakers at all. Not bad for a kids' show.
My favorite show has another character like this, Lady Kayura of Samurai Troopers (Ronin Warriors.) Over a decade before Tamers. She begins, once more, as a warrior and ends in a warrior/shaman role.
The one in my icon is Anna, another take-no-crap little lady, but she's betrothed. And she actually is a type of shaman.
I should probably look harder for more examples from anime. This smells like a pattern.
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Re: a good woman is hard to find
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Re: a good woman is hard to find
To go back to the original question, would it matter if the female character were relegated to a role, albeit a more powerful role? Does it matter if the power is exerted in an active "yang" way (swords, quests, etc) or if it's in a passive "yin" way (spells, inner journeys, etc)? I think it's tricky since it depends on context and the spirit in which the character is presented.
I need to stop babbling! ^^;;
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The weirdest thing about reading this is the realization that this is still how I imagine my life, even though I am married with a child.
total selflessness of being parent
*snicker* Riiiiiight. It is true that selflessness is an important part of parenting, but show me a parent who *doesn't* feel smug when their kid does something brag-worthy, and I'll bet you 10 to 1 she's Barbie the Blow-up Doll.
And the whole thing where parents think they've somehow done something more worthy than single and/or childless people is itself so selfish. If they were so selfless about it, they wouldn't feel so superior. Pff.
Why do I somehow not think it's a coincidence that these characters are male?
The only female hero that I have found who halfway approaches this standard is Elizabeth Peters' Vicky Bliss. She is, typically, beautiful and intelligent, and does, as is typical, have relationships with men and even fall in love; but even after falling in love she is perfectly happy having a non-married, fervently non-child-bearing, relationship with the guy. But I've never stumbled across a female hero who doesn't even go that far.
By the way, I loved The Dark is Rising books too, when I read them way back when, but I hardly remember them. O_o I do remember that the book about the Green Witch was my favorite. I don't even remember why it was, though I think maybe because the girl had a larger role in that book... I have got to reread those books.
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*snicker* Riiiiiight. It is true that selflessness is an important part of parenting, but show me a parent who *doesn't* feel smug when their kid does something brag-worthy, and I'll bet you 10 to 1 she's Barbie the Blow-up Doll.
Right, I mean of course you have to put your child first lots of the time, unless you're a completely horrible parent, but I don't understand needing to pretend you're getting nothing out of it. It's your child for goodness' sake!
You know, it somehow doesn't seem that odd to me to be married with a child and still picture yourself single. It may just have more to do with how we think about ourselves. Some people probably always see themselves in relation to other people--they're somebody's daughter or girlfriend or wife. Other people are maybe always themselves.
I'll have to check out this Vicky Bliss character!
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But you know, I think Will would prefer to be loved in a way that didn't go 'Are you grown up yet? How about now? Yeah? Great! *RAVISH*'
Will's great. Will reminds me of a poem, he's so steady, and it's so strange because he's not human and he shouldn't be soothing, but he is. Also I love him for keeping me with TDIR series, because I thought the first one was dreadful, and I began the second with great misgivings and flung myself into Will's arms. Then I read the third with Will as my only refuge. Muttering 'of course you hate him, Simon and Jane and Barney. Because he has a real personality, and you are JEALOUS. Go drink your ginger beer and DIE, please.'
of course, I also love Will because he and Bran are the cutest little pair of friends that ever were, and that's partly because it's so *normal*, their friendship, just affinity, and that has to be due to Will since Bran doesn't have a nodding acquaintance with normal, bless his little sunglasses.
Ahem! Hence, A Poem For Will. That is, the poem that reminds me of him.
In your presence
Time rode easy, anchored
On a smile; but absence
Rocked love's balance, unmoored
The days. They buck and bound
Across the calendar,
Pitched from the quiet sound
Of your voice. Need breaks on my strand;
You're gone, I am at sea
Till you resume command
Self is in mutiny
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Wow! Glad I didn't realize it! I might have had to kill you.:-)
I will never be able to think of either Simon, Jane or Barney without thinking, "Drink your ginger beer and DIE!" ROTFL!
I was lucky in that I read TDiR first. I remember starting OSUS next and being like, "WTF? Where's WIIIIILLLL?" The other thing--and I'll probably do a post about this because I'm re-reading and this is rocking my world--Merriman is SO different in TDiR. He's so gruff with Will, he's constantly calling him "Stupid boy," so when Will wins through with his little personality you know Merriman's crustiness is just melting. You know he was so happy putting Will and Bran together. Heh. Merriman develops a real personality when he's with Will as well.
It's weird to think of him next to Merriman because you're right, he shouldn't be soothing, but he is, in ways that Merriman isn't (probably because he keeps yelling at my poor boy: Yes! It's your fault the Lady went away! Stupid Boy!") I guess because he's always the baby, even if he's the baby of the super-ancient ageless beings. But I just imagine Merriman all craggy with his hawk nose and being tall with his flowing white hair...and Will's standing with his hands in his pockets grinning and constantly flicking his hair out of his eyes. He's like the most human Old One. And you know people probably laughed to see him and Bran together because they made such an odd pair, but they're so perfect together.
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Because, okay, picture them, say, college age (I say this purely for the purposes of a) getting them out alone in a town and b) for the porn in my head) and they're all walking along, maybe in Cambridge since I know there, and there's a crazy lady. In the Sybil Trelawny style. And she looks at Will, who's in an anorak and a brown sweater and who probably still gets his hair cut by his mum because she likes it and hey, Will doesn't mind, and then there's Bran with his sunglasses in the afternoon and his white-blond hair and his striking scowl.
CRAZY LADY: You! I know you, you have a great destiny, you are of the stuff lowly mortals can only dream of!
BRAN: I am a *sheep farmer's son.* From *Wales.*
WILL: I am the embodiment of immortal and powerful wisdom. *pleasant smile.* Have a good day.
CRAZY LADY: ... well then.
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Another reason I so love Will is that before I met him, I was firmly convinced that Susan Cooper dealt in cardboard cutout stereotypes, and not characters.
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I have, of course, spent much time imagining that scenario with Bran and Will at college because surely Will continued to stick to him like glue because he's Bran's Merlin, even if Bran only wants to hang out and have a beer. And I'll bet Bran would sometimes just look at Will and think, "Something...something about you...you're the weird one but I can't put my finger on why." And Will would always know when Bran was thinking that and give him one of his, "Who me?" expressions.
So cute, those two, I can't stand it. I love the scene when Bran is giving Will a Welsh lesson and Will goes off showing Bran how well he can say, "Achtung!" in German. Because at any minute Will could say, "Btw, if I wanted to I could probably just cast out my mind and speak Welsh as well as you do but I confine myself to English and the Super Sekret Ancient Magic Language only wizards know because I don't want to be annoying." There are just not that many boys that would have been able to be accepted by both Merriman and Bran. I just wish I was more confident in my pronounciation of Dewin.