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Sep. 11th, 2008 07:33 pmPosting from the library. Curse you, Sympatico! Especially since, of course, I have had so many things I actually wanted to blog about lately.
I am bestirring myself to mend my previous non-voting ways, because the conservatives piss me off too much to ignore them anymore, especially given their continued attempts to get into bed with the US, and the coverage I've been reading of THAT election scares me deeply. In my riding, unfortunately, the results of the last election as detailed on CBC's website suggest that voting NDP is only going to split the vote on the left...so colour me red, I guess. I'm interested to hear arguments against this approach if anybody's got em.
Have been re-reading Laura Ingalls Wilder, having snapped up a copy of the one volume of the series I was missing. For books with such an apparently simple value system, agenda and writing style, it surprises me a little how much they change every time I read them. I figure this is what really makes a classic, when you see something new every time you pick the book up.
What's particularly interesting is the contrast between their enduring appeal and the nauseating sugar-coated ickiness of the spin-off sequels and prequels. I picked up a book written by someone else, much more recently, about her mother and father; I couldn't finish it, it was so mealy-mouthed. The odd thing is that I don't think the value system or the agenda behind the originals was really that much different.
One of the things that maybe makes the difference - and that really jumped out at me this time around - is that while the Little House books certainly put several offensive expectations front and centre, particularly about selflessness and gender roles, they also did some interesting (albeit sneakier) things to subvert them. These can go right over your head, especially because while the narrator will sometimes intrude to point out the pious lessons to be learned from a particular incident, she never points out problems with the status quo so baldly. But the narrative is in places arranged in such a way as to show them, even if it isn't bold enough to tell them outright.
For instance, one juxtaposition I never noticed before was following a conversation between Laura, her sister, and her mother, who tells the two of them how as a girl she was shamed in front of her school for styling her hair so it didn't cover her ears. Laura and her sister are out walking after this and talking about how silly fashion was in their mother's day. As they're out walking, Laura has to stop every now and again and spin around and around in place to fix her hoop skirts, which are bunching up in the wind.
The sequels and prequels to her books, meanwhile, are straightforward good-ole-days nostalgia written by people who never lived in the times they're describing. At least Laura's affection for the time period and its values are illuminated by her obvious love for her family, and also balanced with her equally obvious marvel and/or relief at some of the ways things have changed since. Modern authors using the same style, however, just end up sounding wrongheaded and medieval.
In other news, before my internet time runs out, I am at 20 weeks today, which is HALFWAY DONE WOOHOO. I am pretty sure now that I can feel her moving around in there. The internets tell me that by now the ratio of her sleeping and waking time is similar to when she'll be born, and freakily enough, I think I can actually tell when she's awake, because I get those little pings and flutters much more often.
I am bestirring myself to mend my previous non-voting ways, because the conservatives piss me off too much to ignore them anymore, especially given their continued attempts to get into bed with the US, and the coverage I've been reading of THAT election scares me deeply. In my riding, unfortunately, the results of the last election as detailed on CBC's website suggest that voting NDP is only going to split the vote on the left...so colour me red, I guess. I'm interested to hear arguments against this approach if anybody's got em.
Have been re-reading Laura Ingalls Wilder, having snapped up a copy of the one volume of the series I was missing. For books with such an apparently simple value system, agenda and writing style, it surprises me a little how much they change every time I read them. I figure this is what really makes a classic, when you see something new every time you pick the book up.
What's particularly interesting is the contrast between their enduring appeal and the nauseating sugar-coated ickiness of the spin-off sequels and prequels. I picked up a book written by someone else, much more recently, about her mother and father; I couldn't finish it, it was so mealy-mouthed. The odd thing is that I don't think the value system or the agenda behind the originals was really that much different.
One of the things that maybe makes the difference - and that really jumped out at me this time around - is that while the Little House books certainly put several offensive expectations front and centre, particularly about selflessness and gender roles, they also did some interesting (albeit sneakier) things to subvert them. These can go right over your head, especially because while the narrator will sometimes intrude to point out the pious lessons to be learned from a particular incident, she never points out problems with the status quo so baldly. But the narrative is in places arranged in such a way as to show them, even if it isn't bold enough to tell them outright.
For instance, one juxtaposition I never noticed before was following a conversation between Laura, her sister, and her mother, who tells the two of them how as a girl she was shamed in front of her school for styling her hair so it didn't cover her ears. Laura and her sister are out walking after this and talking about how silly fashion was in their mother's day. As they're out walking, Laura has to stop every now and again and spin around and around in place to fix her hoop skirts, which are bunching up in the wind.
The sequels and prequels to her books, meanwhile, are straightforward good-ole-days nostalgia written by people who never lived in the times they're describing. At least Laura's affection for the time period and its values are illuminated by her obvious love for her family, and also balanced with her equally obvious marvel and/or relief at some of the ways things have changed since. Modern authors using the same style, however, just end up sounding wrongheaded and medieval.
In other news, before my internet time runs out, I am at 20 weeks today, which is HALFWAY DONE WOOHOO. I am pretty sure now that I can feel her moving around in there. The internets tell me that by now the ratio of her sleeping and waking time is similar to when she'll be born, and freakily enough, I think I can actually tell when she's awake, because I get those little pings and flutters much more often.
