A Heavily Parenthesised Ramble about Some Books

Hello precious poppets.

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I recently embarked on a re-read of my favourite book series of all time. If you are a long-time follower (or if you have recently tried to talk to me about books - which, if you have, makes you my favourite person! Always talk to me about books!) you might know that this series is not anything written by Tolkien or L. M. Montgomery (although it could easily be - those guys wrote great stuff that I love). My favourite book series is this one.

Mary Grant Bruce's Billabong books.

In this post I'm going to just waffle on for a bit and try to explain why I love them so, because it is a bit of a mystery, I guess. They're not particularly beautifully written - there aren't many writerly passages I could pull out of context and show people, if you know what I mean. The philosophy in them is either so inherently built into the characterisation/the narrative voice or so bluntly and baldly stated that saying it profoundly affects my life sounds silly or naive.

But they have affected my life profoundly.

Every time I read these books I finish wanting to be a braver, better, more cheerful person. I want to be humbler and - and... usefuller and happier. And trying becomes easier. I don't know.

Let's talk about the characters a little bit, because really it's the characters that are most important. The stories don't matter an awful lot and the writing is pretty ordinary - it's the characters.

Firstly, Norah Linton

Norah Linton is, I guess, the protagonist of the Billabong series - at least the first nine books. She is the daughter of a wealthy cattle farmer in Victoria in the early 1900s. 

Norah's got her problems as a character, of course. She suffers a bit from Exceptional Woman Syndrome. Which is weird, because the books definitely aren't particularly feminist at all. In fact, despite Norah's awesomeness and skillz, a big part of the stories is devoted to the men around her falling over themselves to shield her from danger or discomfort. Which is definitely part of the characterisation of the men (and more than somewhat endearing, despite the inherent sexism... which was standard for its time, so let's not get crazy upset, guys). Example:

"Norah, dear, we can't have you in it," O'Neill said. "I know it's hard: far harder than anything we have to do. But you have too much sense not to know that this isn't woman's work."
Norah choked back a sob.
"I know you couldn't have me where there's shooting," she said. "But I can do something, if you'll let me: and in Australia women always did help men when there was need, and they didn't talk about things being 'women's work' in pioneer days."
"Norah, we can't let you fight," Jim said. "Be sensible, old kiddie."
"I don't want to fight," said poor Norah. "At least, I do, but I know that's out of the question. But why on earth shouldn't I light the beacon?"
"Because there would be risk," O'Neill said roughly. "Norah, I hate hurting you. Don't make it harder for us."
"I don't want to, indeed I don't," Norah faltered. "But..." There was a lump in her throat, and she turned away, fighting for her voice. Jim's arm round her shoulders steadied her.
"You know you'll be outnumbered," she said. "you can't tell any of these people, and there are only the three of you until Daddy brings help. And one of you is going to light the beacon! If you let me do it, it leaves you all free to fight; and there's no risk for me. No one will be on the point. I'd only have to light a match and get out of the way."
"No," said Wally, his young voice strained. "You aren't going to do it."
"I know what it will be," Norah said. "The one of you who lights the beacon will come tearing down the rocks to help the others and the Germans will just shoot him easily. I needn't do that; I can hide up on the point. There isn't any risk - not a bit."
"Oh, Norah, Norah, I wish you'd gone to bed! uttered Jim. "Don't you see we can't let you?"
"No, I don't," said his sister. "You haven't any right to stop me..."
- Jim and Wally, book 5 of the Billabong series by Mary Grant Bruce

But Norah's own self, besides her relation to the reader and the men in her life, is just, well... I love her. She's confident and happy in herself, though has moments of insecurity and doubt (somebody horsewhip Cecil, please), but her humility and patience mean that she's never self-absorbed either way. She always finds the person who needs to be drawn in and befriended - and then she draws them in and befriends them, with compassion and sensitivity and just, wow. Dude, I want to be Norah Linton. Not just because she's as capable and calm as any stockman on the place - but because she's this pillar of warm, strong humanity. She makes an honest effort with her stuck-up, patronising cousin - she searches out the neglected kids and lonely immigrants and wins over stiff old English servants and homeless hermits and maimed soldiers. She won't see class or age or race and doesn't mind hard work and self sacrifice and EVERYBODY GO AND LOVE HER NOW PLEASE.

Jim Linton

Now that I think of it, the reasons I love Jim and Norah are practically the same. Good job, David Linton, not every single father manages to raise the MOST COMPASSIONATE people in the world, like you really did something right there, dang. Jim pretty much adopts lonely people and makes them part of the family, sometimes literally (wink wink nudge nudge WALLY). And he's so quiet and unassuming that I only realised that this is his defining trait just now. But he's forever doing it; bringing home boys from school for the holidays, turning into the loveable giant babysitter at a moment's notice, bloomin' BILL, like, cripes, Jim's gentleness and fatherliness towards Bill (and Rob) makes me want to cry. Not to mention this little scene in which our jolly crew are visiting a children's hospital:

Tommy alone declined to make friends. He burrowed into his pillow when they came to him, and refused to show so much as the tip of his nose. The sound of his sorry little wail followed them over the ward. Jim turned back presently. He sat down near Tommy's cot and took out a toy watch that had beautiful qualities in the way of winding. But he did not offer it to Tommy. Instead he sat still, dangling it from his fingers.

"Had a sick leg myself, once," he remarked, causally, apparently to the watch. As might be expected, the watch made no response; neither did the black head burrowed in the pillow turn at all.

"Hurt it falling off a horse," Jim went on. "At least, the horse fell too. Tried to jump a log on him - and he shied at a snake lying on top of the log."

The boy in the next cot was listening with all his might.Tommy's low crying had stopped.

"Big black snake," said Jim. "Must have scared him a bit when he saw the horse rising. Any rate, he slid off like fun - and my old horse shied badly, and went over the log in a somersault. Landed on his head and pitched me about fifteen yards away."

"Was you much hurt?" The boy in the next cot shot out an irrepressible question.

Jim was not in a hurry to answer. The black head was turning ever so little towards him, but he did not seem to see. He played with the watch in an absent-minded fashion.

"Hurt my leg," he said at length. "I managed to catch the old horse, because he put his foot through the bridle, and hobbled himself; and I got on by a log and rode home. Didn't jump any more fences though. And when I got home I couldn't stand on that leg. Had to be lifted off. Makes you feel like an ass, doesn't it?"

The question was for the now visible Tommy, but Jim did not wait for an answer.

"Then I had to lie still for days," he said. "My word, did I hate it! I feel sorry for any chap with a sick leg. It's so jolly hard to keep still when you don't feel like it."

Something in the low, deep voice helped the little lad in the cot, with sore mind and body.

The scene goes on for a few more pages and ends with Jim getting Tommy to show him how to wind the toy watch - which of course, he gives the kid to keep - and the nurse marveling at her little patient laughing for the first time in that ward. And of course, he uses the same, empathetic technique when another Tommy is ashamed of her claustrophobia and when Bill is struggling with controlling his temper, and oh! I love Jim.

Ehehehehe, now we come to my favourite

Wally Meadows

Come to think of it, I probably can't tell you exactly why I love this character so much without sounding like a lovestruck fangirl.
Wally is a school friend of Jim's - who spends the holidays with the Lintons because he's an orphan and his much older siblings don't take much interest in him. Where Norah and Jim are solid and (mostly) calm, Wally is the 'restless flycatcher' - never still, always full of energy and enthusiasm for any job of work or entertainment. Wally's infectious cheerfulness and eagerness. On hearing any news that he's been hoping for (like, yay! You aren't going to be taken hostage on a German submarine!) he'll grab the nearest girl (Norah, always, natch) and madly waltz her into the middle of next week.

Now, if you haven't already read this GLORIOUSLY DARLING book series and you plan to (OF COURSE YOU PLAN TO. I COMMAND YOU TO.) and you don't like spoilers, then stop reading now. Go, read and be merry. The rest of you (hey guys! I hope you're in the already-read-it category and not the never-gonna-read-it category, coz, come on) read on:

(If this were tumblr I could put a readmore here)

I hate to tell you this, guys, but Wally ruined Laurie for me. You know, Laurie, Theodore Laurence, that guy? Also any dude who has ever whinged about the friendzone.

It had always seemed to Emily, ever since she could remember, that she was very, very near to a world of wonderful beauty. Between it and heself hung only a thin curtain; she could never draw the curtain aside - but sometimes, just for a moment, a wind fluttered it and then it was as if she caught a glimpse of the enchanting world beyond - only a glimpse - and heard a note of unearthly music.

L. M. Montgomery, Emily of New Moon

"I coined the word 'eucatastrophe': the sudden happy turn in a story which pierces you with a joy that brings tears (which I argued it is the highest function of fairy-stories to produce). And I was there led to the view that it produces its peculiar effect because it is a sudden glimpse of Truth, your whole nature chained in material cause and effect, the chain of death, feels a sudden relief as if a major limb out of joint had suddenly snapped back. It perceives – if the story has literary 'truth' on the second plane (....) – that this is indeed how things really do work in the Great World for which our nature is made. And I concluded by saying that the Resurrection was the greatest 'eucatastrophe' possible in the greatest Fairy Story – and produces that essential emotion: Christian joy which produces tears because it is qualitatively so like sorrow, because it comes from those places where Joy and Sorrow are at one, reconciled, as selfishness and altruism are lost in Love."

― Letter 89

In his On Fairy-Stories Tolkien describes eucatastrophe further:

"But the 'consolation' of fairy-tales has another aspect than the imaginative satisfaction of ancient desires. Far more important is the Consolation of the Happy Ending. Almost I would venture to assert that all complete fairy-stories must have it. At least I would say that Tragedy is the true form of Drama, its highest function; but the opposite is true of Fairy-story. Since we do not appear to possess a word that expresses this opposite — I will call it Eucatastrophe. Theeucatastrophic tale is the true form of fairy-tale, and its highest function.

The consolation of fairy-stories, the joy of the happy ending: or more correctly of the good catastrophe, the sudden joyous “turn” (for there is no true end to any fairy-tale): this joy, which is one of the things which fairy-stories can produce supremely well, is not essentially 'escapist', nor 'fugitive'. In its fairy-tale—or otherworld—setting, it is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur. It does not deny the existence of dyscatastrophe, of sorrow and failure: the possibility of these is necessary to the joy of deliverance; it denies (in the face of much evidence, if you will) universal final defeat and in so far is evangelium, giving a fleeting glimpse of Joy, Joy beyond the walls of the world, poignant as grief.

It is the mark of a good fairy-story, of the higher or more complete kind, that however wild its events, however fantastic or terrible the adventures, it can give to child or man that hears it, when the “turn” comes, a catch of the breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, near to (or indeed accompanied by) tears, as keen as that given by any form of literary art, and having a peculiar quality."

― On Fairy-Stories

“I call it Joy. 'Animal-Land' was not imaginative. But certain other experiences were... The first is itself the memory of a memory. As I stood beside a flowering currant bush on a summer day there suddenly arose in me without warning, and as if from a depth not of years but of centuries, the memory of that earlier morning at the Old House when my brother had brought his toy garden into the nursery. It is difficult or find words strong enough for the sensation which came over me; Milton's 'enormous bliss' of Eden (giving the full, ancient meaning to 'enormous') comes somewhere near it. It was a sensation, of course, of desire; but desire for what?...Before I knew what I desired, the desire itself was gone, the whole glimpse... withdrawn, the world turned commonplace again, or only stirred by a longing for the longing that had just ceased... In a sense the central story of my life is about nothing else... The quality common to the three experiences... is that of an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy, which is here a technical term and must be sharply distinguished both from Happiness and Pleasure. Joy (in my sense) has indeed one characteristic, and one only, in common with them; the fact that anyone who has experienced it will want it again... I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. But then Joy is never in our power and Pleasure often is.”
― C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life

Why fangirl?

I posit that the obsessions of young girls with male relationships in fiction and celebrity culture has to do with (naturally) the relationship of the young girls to masculinity in general.

Going through puberty and growing up female is a minefield of expectations and dangers. Little girls quickly learn that they must cover up their innocent bodies or risk censure, harassment, and even bodily danger. They learn that they are not expected to be full humans, much of the time, but accessories or bit parts in the drama of the lives of men. Other people have remarked on the possibility that boy bands give girls a chance to experience romantic feelings without the pressures and dangers of real life relationships with real boys, but I would also put forward that the infamous ‘fangirl’ obsession with certain kinds of close male friendships and male relationships in general so idolised by young women stems from a similar root. In their fantasies, girls want to believe in the humanity of the male characters they love – and the humanity of boys and men in general. There is much justly and truly said about the objectification and dehumanisation of women in sexist pop culture and society in general – but, less remarked upon is the dehumanisation of the male. When girls are taught – for their own safety – to fear and mistrust the actions and motivations of the men and boys they encounter (“men only want one thing”, etc), an enormous, dehumanising distance is placed between girls and boys – not only from the position of patriarchal power, in which girls are dehumanised in the perspective of boys into objects for use and pleasure, but from the perspective of girls, in which boys are dehumanised into animalistic creatures without empathy, vulnerability or any inner life. Of course, both of these perspectives are harmfully absorbed by the targets also, in an endless feed-back loop of damage and suffering: girls see themselves as objects with only material value and boys deny and repress their own emotional and spiritual growth.

Girls fetishise and idolise male fictional characters because the medium of fiction gives a girl free, unrestrained access to the inner lives of masculine people – not because they wish to feel that the inner lives of men and boys are so mysterious, but because they are not: because girls need to feel that emotion and vulnerability are common to all people, something that patriarchal macho culture plays down and outright denies. In experiencing the inner life of a fictional male character, a girl is safe and free from all possibilities of deception, betrayal and abuse, from which she is so strenuously taught to shield herself and fear.

And girls like to vicariously experience these stories within male-male relationships, usually relationships that are written as straight friendships between characters who are not romantically involved. This cannot be too surprising if we look at the alternative – it is incredibly difficult to see oneself in and project oneself onto most of the female characters portrayed in popular culture, opposite the most compelling and interesting male characters. In Sherlock, for instance, it might be possible to sympathise with the ridiculously sexualised and emotionally paper-thin Irene Adler, who merely exists to provide endless displays of female flesh for the camera to linger over... but how much more easily we could instead project ourselves onto the loyal, brave, human John Watson, instead, who actually has a close, meaningful relationship with the title character! Irene Adler doesn’t have the time to really form an enviable emotional tie to Sherlock – and she’s not particularly designed to, either.

I won’t touch on ‘shipping’ culture (in which fans of a public figure or fictional character invest immense amounts of emotional energy into said person’s possible romantic relationship with another character/characters), because I personally don’t engage in this practice, but I would be very interested to hear a shipper’s perspective on this theory?

2015

Hello darlings

As you may have noticed, I haven't been posting much on this blog - most of my blog posts from this year have languished, unfinished in the drafts folder! Or, worse, remained simply voice memos on my phone! Sorry about that. I'll have to try harder in the future ;)
I thought I'd do a retrospective for this year, just a quick lil list of some things that defined the year for me... the nice, fun easy ones. These won't be things that are necessarily from this year, but things that I experienced this year; sorry if that's confusing!

Starting with stuff you can already see on my blog if you scroll down a little ways:

This year I watched a lot of cartoons

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Nickelodeon 2012 version)

Over the Garden Wall

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Legend of Korra

Gravity Falls

Mostly children's cartoons about groups of young people dealing with the fantastical, with lots of humour and soul-shattering drama thrown in.

Best books I read (for the first time - not rereads) this year: (I don't think any of these will be books from 2015, sorry!)

Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson (a beautifully crafted, heartbreaking thing)

East of Eden by John Steinbeck (the first time I've read Steinbeck and I almost feel like I don't need to read his other books now - this was good!)

The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge (every childhood delight rolled up in one)

Unspoken Sermons by George Macdonald (challenged me and filled me with joy)

After Dark and Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami (As with all Murakami's books, I'm not sure how to communicate how I liked these.)

The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt (HEARTBREAKING but in the best way)


2015 was a great year for television
... because we finally got Netflix in Australia!

Personal highlights include

Daredevil

Jane the Virgin

Merlin

Arrested Development

and Ouran High School Host Club

... which lead to me reading the manga... which I have probably reread eight times by now.

My year in music:

Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams really belongs with her Style video, lbr, not the #problematic as heck video it actually got.

This, of course, too.

V. much recommend you download The Oh Hellos new music while it's still on Noisetrade (Also, all of their music is great too - this is an excellent time to soak yourself in their soul-stirring versions of Christmas classics!)

One of the reasons this list will be short is because I spent a huge portion of the year just listening to Marina and the Diamonds' new album:

Another favourite release from this year: Carrie and Lowell by Sufjan Stevens:

Fourth of July broke my heart and changed my life

As did:

 

TWENTY ONE PILOTS!!!!

If we leave it there I've had a pretty angsty year in music, but if we keep going...

You guys, I got into Kpop.

I know. I KNOW.

Turns out that my lifelong disinterest in boybands melts away when the boys can DANCE, haha. Y'all know I can't resist good dancing. I kind of prefer the dance practice videos, mostly, because the music videos are so... full on, it's like sensory overload within the first twenty seconds, plus I'm honestly confused by the fashion choices a lot of the time. (NB: neither applies to the Just Right video!)

I've only just got into Kpop, so I'm still very, very new to the whole thing, but so far my favourite group has been GOT7. Because they're fricking adorable.

I'm going to stop now before I fangirl my way out of your respect.

And so, dear readers, this has been my year... pop-culturally speaking.

Since the American Supreme Court declared gay marriage legal within the USA, there has been much heated discussion in my facebook feed. Many, many well-meaning Christian folks sharing articles with a ‘love the sinner, hate the sin’ theme, many rainbow-ified facebook profile pictures, and a whole lot of emotion on every side.

Unlike many Christians who find themselves on the road of inquiry about the church’s teaching on homosexuality, I have never been bombarded with doubts about my own sexual identity as a straight person. This has put me in the position of being possibly capable of never pursuing this train of inquiry – a luxury that Christian members of the LGBTQIA community are not afforded.

I wish I could link you to the articles and essays and personal testimonies that first stirred my mind and challenged me, but I can’t. I read them out of a need for intellectual honesty in myself and also plain old curiosity, but I was not keen to be convinced. I clicked out of a lot of things out of an ideological repugnance for the arguments that contradicted those I had lent credence to all my life. For a while I stopped reading articles, too emotionally exhausted by the stream of testimonies that I had to reject out of hand. Eventually I was forced to examine my own heart and I found within myself pride – an unwillingness to admit to an unfounded belief; fear – that I would be convinced by what I read and be required to reject the unified teaching of the church I attend; and the doubt that is allowed to assail all Christians at any time – that perhaps I would pick too many holes in the teaching of the church and thereby undermine my entire belief system and my entire world. I had to soften my heart with a healthy dose of humility to counter the pride. I had to lean into the presence of the Holy Spirit and reaffirm my trust in a loving God to assuage my doubt and my fear. My faith has rarely been stronger.

Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free.

I am not going to spend time discussing the specific theology, the testimonies, the emotional journey, and the logic that has led me to a place where I have changed my stance on the subject of Christians and the LGB community. It is not my story to tell. I am not a member of said community, I am not a theologian. Do not come to me to be won over – educate yourself, seek out the information – not just to seek to rebut it. Actually listen to the experiences and beliefs of gay Christians first hand, not filtered through the often patronising and flawed argument of rebuttal.

I may not be a member of the LGB community or a theologian: I am, however, a member of the church.

The church has fallen prey to, clung to, and eventually abandoned many wrongful teachings. Paul condemned the unnecessary and wrongful practice of circumcising Gentile converts, which Peter, the Rock on which Christ said He would build the church, participated in. The Catholic Church, which was the only church where many met God and formed lasting, earnest, life-changing faith for hundreds of years, was brought to task during the Reformation for clinging to misinterpretation and harmful teaching.  Martin Luther, beloved Reformer, supported the oppressive regime of the German princes and did not speak against the persecution and massacre of the peasantry. As some love to remind us, Galileo was forced by a mistaken church leadership to recant his true, scientific statement that the Earth revolves around the sun. My own ancestors, church people, arrived on the shores of Australia, contributed to the oppression and extermination of the Aboriginal peoples, and served by the side of the notorious Samuel Marsden, ‘the whipping parson’. Racism and misogyny have been a part of the church for two thousand years; efforts are being made now in some quarters to acknowledge and repent of that, but these are still woven in our history and still often tragically a part of church culture around the world.

It is not only right and logical for us to examine the practices and ingrained traditions, teachings and beliefs of the church, but it is our responsibility. Many preachers leaned upon Paul’s teaching about the current social practice of slavery to justify an ingrained belief concerning the morality of a society built on the backs of slaves. The Bible can be used to justify many practices which we now would regard as abhorrent, bizarre or just plain unnecessary. For myself, when in doubt, I turn to Jesus’ words: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and strength and love your neighbour as you love yourself; this sums up the whole law and the prophets.” Do we lend credence to Paul’s statement that it is ‘unnatural’ for a man to have long hair or for a woman to cut her hair? That teaching may have been consistent with a policy of loving God/loving others in that specific first century church, but is it still necessarily so? If we go by the current behaviour of the people of most of the churches in the world, no, it is not necessarily consistent with this one, pure and clear rule, handed to us by Christ himself.

I am not saying that all followers of Christ will reconsider the church’s traditional teaching on homosexuality – I am not saying that all those that do will necessarily change their stance on the issue, at least not within this living generation. I do think, however, that we must consider our history and be ready with open hearts and open minds for change. In the past, it has been an accepted doctrine in many churches that the hearts of all women were corrupted and perverted, that all women, following a precedent of Eve, who first ate the fruit, were a destructive force and inferior beings. I am sure that the members of those churches were not all fools or all wicked – they just followed the teaching they were used to hearing, with Biblical passages pulled out of context to support it. I do not think that theology on the topic of homosexuality should be as divisive as it is. I do think that, as with other discussions, such as different opinions about the end of days, predestination, infant baptism and suchlike, it should be something that we are willing to consider a non-salvation issue. I am saying that those who feel the need to study this topic, as with any topic under the sun, must not limit themselves to texts written by people they already agree with, particularly if the other side is the side with living experience of the issue at hand. There are disagreements even amongst gay Christians, some believing that all of their number are necessarily called to a life of celibacy, some who do not believe that this is so. But disagreement is not the same as division.

Alarmist preachers cry that the church is dying, that the faith is being torn down. The church cannot die. The faith must stand. It has stood, even through human wickedness, human weakness, human ignorance and human folly. The body of Christ remains, even when her trappings are ugly and the words that fall from her lips prove false. Christ has loved his church through years of brutal, murderous crusades, Christ has loved her through centuries of misogyny, Christ has loved her through mistaken doctrine, Christ loves her yet and he does not desert her. He yearns after the church, to see her washed clean of error and wrongdoing.

My point is that whether homosexuality is condemned or permitted, the church will yet stand. The important thing is to remain full of love of God and love of one another. I hope no one can convict me of not loving those of the church who do not agree with me on this point, but the fact remains that the church stands guilty of preaching love to the LGBTQIA community without actually practicing this love. How often do you think a member of that community feels welcome and cared for when visiting church? How do you think a Christian gay person might feel when their perspectives and testimonies are not sought or even considered by almost every person who preaches about gay marriage? How do you think a gay Christian would feel to know that their church community is not only unwilling to prayerfully and carefully consider the theology surrounding an anti-gay viewpoint, but actively working to deny them legal and social rights?

Of course, after all this, you will not be surprised to hear me say that I firmly acknowledge that it is possible I am entirely 100% wrong in my understanding. I hope that I may remain humble about my own human limitations regarding the mysteries of the universe I live in. I do, however, believe in a loving God who holds us in his hands. I do believe that I have been redeemed by the blood of Christ. And I do believe that my gay Christian friends are equally redeemed, and that all humans who have ever lived and who ever will live on Earth are the beloved children of the Most High God, who yearns to hold them in his arms.      

'Stead of Treated We Get Tricked

I watched the 2014 remake of Annie last nigh and boyyyyy. This film could have been good, but it's doomed by a strange cocktail of laziness and desperation. The original is a story about the antics of a little girl who brings sunshine into the lives of some stuffy adults, who in turn, lift her out of a life of suffering. Instead of that - which to be fair, is rather a tired trope - we have the incredible Quvenzhané Wallis giving a mostly calm, measured performance as all the adults around her ham and mug desperately at the camera. If the film rose and fell on Wallis's performance, it could have been powerful and moving; an updated take on Annie really drives home the tragedy of the story, which can get lost, Dickens style, in the 1930s period trappings.  Rose Byrne in particular is somehow terrifying as she overworks her enormous eyes whilst babbling like a crazy woman about how she really is happy and does have friends, hahaha, though it's probably impossible to eat more scenery than Cameron Diaz does without dying of indigestion.

The updated versions of the songs are hit-and-miss and the original songs are plain awful. The sanitising effect of lavishly applied auto-tune cannot save Rose Byrne's performance, or anyone else's, for that matter. I'm sorry for being so hard on Byrne, but I can't help it! Grace is a character who has always been overshadowed by the perky Annie, the deliciously vile Miss Hannigan and the slowly defrosting Daddy Warbucks, so it's a difficult role to work with for anyone. Watching Wallis and Diaz awkwardly frolicking around Daddy Warbucks (I'm sorry, 'Mr Stacks')'s technologically pimped out mansion in the 2014 version of 'I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here',  one cannot help but long for dancing servants. This is not even taking into account the blandly reconfigured tune itself.
The only song with decent choreography is 'It's The Hard Knock Life'. The lyrical update from 'no one cares for you a smidge when you're in an orphanage' to 'no one cares for you a bit when you're a foster kid' gave me nasty cold chills - I wonder how actual foster children feel when they watch this movie?
Anyone who has ever worked long-term with children can think of a brief moment in which they guiltily identified with the vitriolic pity party of 'Little Girls', but the decision to treat Miss Hannigan as a poor left-behind soul who has just temporarily lost her way on the path of life rather than a psycho child abuser is... problematic, to say the least. The 'Little Girls' song itself is given a new chorus, in the background of which can be heard the voices of the little girls echoing 'get her out get her out of here' not in a 'get our horrible guardian away from us' sentiment, but rather a 'get her out of her horrible life, poor woman' theme! Abused kids! Singing sympathetically in the chorus of the abuser's self pity song! Miss Hannigan, despite her ghastly new ballad, has still spent years of her life neglecting and emotionally abusing a houseful of children for the sole purpose of monetary gain, exploiting the foster system disgustingly. Having Miss Hannigan turn up to save Annie at the last minute doesn't just undermine the message of 'some adults are bad abusive people whom you don't have to listen to' which kids really do need to hear sometimes, it destroys the agency of the other orphans showing up to denounce the villains - and it completely removes Annie's swagtastic moment:

Miss Hannigan: Annie! Annie, tell these people how good I always been to ya, huh?
Annie: Miss Hannigan, I would - but the one thing you always taught me was 'never tell a lie'.

Just because Miss Hannigan really might be a pitiable human being doesn't mean she isn't also a terrible horrible woman who ought to be stopped. Taking up time in Annie's story to give Miss Hannigan a redemption arc is just a plain disrespectful thing to do. Also, are we supposed to laugh at Miss Hannigan's washed-up has-been sob story or are we meant to pity her for it?

I could talk about the new villain, Mr awful PR guy,  and I could poke about in the uncomfortable mess of implications that surrounds the whole 'bring home a random kid to raise your public approval ratings' thing, but the movie handles the whole issue so badly and messily, that it's hardly worth the effort of figuring out what the movie is trying to say. On the surface, looking at the movie side by side with the original musical, he is a replacement for 'Rooster' Hannigan, but look deeper and he's much much more insidious. Basically, awful PR guy somehow absorbs all the wickedness and culpability of everyone in the story - it is he, not Grace, who is responsible for the 'get a foster kid' thing, it is he not Miss Hannigan who is responsible for the 'con everyone into thinking Annie's parents are found (and somehow profit by doing so?) thing, and it is he who is responsible, ultimately, for everything that is wrong with Mr Stacks's behaviour in the public eye. No one else ever does anything else wrong ever, yay! This isn't even mentioning the film's handling of the Horatio Alger myth - is the system at fault or isn't it? Is the American dream real or isn't it? Huh, who knows? Other issues include: what is up with Mr Stacks exploiting Annie for publicity, much like Miss Hannigan exploited her for the income? Is this a problem for anyone? What point is made by the revelation that Annie cannot read? What is going on? I'm bored and confused and the lame musical numbers rife with overacting and auto-tune and rubbish choreography are just making me more bored and confused!
And I won't even mention the perpetual flinging in our face of 'this is modern! Look, twitter! Instagram! Hip and modern! Wheee! Random Jupiter Ascending parody! Wheee!'
Good things could have happened here, but alas, the over-sanitised, fevered mediocrity of this film cannot be redeemed by any half-way decent moment buried in the schlocky mess.

Hi guys,

So, apparently this is now a 'talking about Nickelodeon cartoons' blog. Sorry, not sorry!

Over the last couple of months I've really gotten into the two Avatar television series, and I want to talk a little bit about them today. I've seen all of The Last Airbender and I'm about halfway through Book 2 of Legend of Korra, so my observations have probably been better articulated and analysed by people who have actually seen the whole show. An unfortunate side-effect of first-time watching a show that has already been out there in the world for a while... and I can't look and find out, either, without subjecting myself to spoilers! So, here goes nothing.

The Last Airbender (ATLA) and Legend of Korra (LOK) are two very different, very wonderful shows, with different strengths and different weaknesses; however, I have noticed a few things in common - particularly a few weaknesses in common. (NB, I really do love these shows, ATLA changed my life a wee bit and I'm loving LOK so far, but I also love to analyse stuff a little too much...)

Starting at the very beginning (apparently a very good place to start), both shows take a while to find their feet. After watching two or three episodes of ATLA together my brother turned to me with shining eyes and said, "Isn't this the best show you've ever watched?"

I was forced to say no. It wasn't the best show I had ever watched. It was cute, I liked the premise, I liked the world, but the characters didn't grab me straight away. I found Aang's hyperactive childishness and Sokka's awkward wisecracking a bit annoying, and the earliest stories weren't especially interesting to me. Of course, after watching all three books of ATLA, I now have to declare it one of my favourite television shows ever, if not my most favourite, and the characters hold distinguished places in my pantheon of fictional darlings.

In comparison, I can't help but feel that LOK, as of Book 2, still hasn't really found its feet. The plot arcs, though interesting and well-conceived, aren't always paced very well - one less interesting plot point will be given far too much time and several very interesting plot points will be hastily jammed into a single episode! As for character arcs? I don't think they really exist in LOK at all in a real sense. Korra seems to pretty much learn the same thing in most episodes, since the plot of most episodes goes a bit like this tumblr meme:

Everyone: "Korra, don't do the thing!"

Korra: "I'm gonna do the thing!"

Korra: *Regrets doing the thing*

If you have the same lesson taught over and over again in different episodes, it sort of ruins the whole 'character growth arc' thing that is so terribly important to a good show.

And the other characters??? Um. Well.

Why did the Fire Ferrets disband? Really, why? I rely too heavily on the bro-y bros broing it up dynamic; separating Korra and Mako and Bolin for a good portion of season two just made me sorta dislike Mako and even Bolin a little. In stark contrast to ATLA, LOK doesn't give us much of the inner lives of the characters, except maybe for Korra and Tenzin (a bit). I appreciate what we do get - but just remembering Zuko's agonising journey of personal development - and Aang's - and Katara's (and Sokka's and Toph's, to a lesser extent)... why? Why don't we get to see much of the motivations and struggles and epiphanies of the characters of LOK?

(EDIT: the above was written when I was up to Chapter 8 of LOK. I greatly appreciated Bolin's acknowledgement of the breakdown of the brotherly relationship in a subsequent ep. Bolin had some nice moments over the last episodes of Book 2)

THAT SAID, LOK seems to have a way of making up for some less interesting/plain awful subplots *COUGH* LOVE TRIANGLE *COUGH* with really full on, no punches pulled, go big or go home finales. You should see me failing to stifle my cries of shock, fear and disbelief when watching the season finales. I'm super annoying.

I'll write more another time!