posted by
revdorothyl at 12:38pm on 19/12/2007 under movie reviews
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I just added this section as a revision to yesterday's review of "The Golden Compass", with what I hope were strong enough spoiler warnings, but since it's essentially a new discussion, I figured it probably ought to have its own post.
While I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and highly recommend it to all my friends, there were still a few minor points that touched on some of my 'issues' about the role of parents in fantasy, so . . . here they are:
Much as I enjoyed the film, part of me can't help but wonder about the Freudian implications of the apparent bad-mother/good-father dichotomy set up at the end, especially in a fantasy universe written by a man but centered around a pre-adolescent female protagonist.
I love C.S. Lewis dearly, in many respects, but even as a young and naive college student (the age at which I read his children's novels, finally) I couldn't help but notice that in "The Chronicles of Narnia" grown-up females tended to be either absent or dying mothers OR evil witches -- I can recall very few examples of post-adolescent females being good, strong, and present and active in the story.
Now, in the first film adaptation based on "The Golden Compass" series, I really had to wonder about the fact that Lyra's major adult female influences were, on the one hand, an apparently severely disturbed mother (who beats up on her own soul/daemon when it gets in her way) eagerly working in the service of evil authorities, and on the other hand a free-spirited good witch who might lend bit of aid when absolutely needed but isn't overly eager to display any maternal instincts towards the kid.
Billy's Gyptian mum, though a strong and caring and admirable woman, seemed to be fairly peripheral, as far as Lyra personally was concerned (as, indeed, any friend's mother naturally tends to be, when you're that age -- she's not a person, after all, but rather your friend's mom and why should you think any more about her than that, most of the time?.
Meanwhile, we've got Lyra's biological father calling himself her 'uncle' and apparently not really willing (or maybe even able) to form a closer emotional bond, but relying on a bunch of college professors to stand in loco parentis for Lyra. As far as real emotional bonding between Lyra and adult males, the closest we get is the friendship she enjoys with Iorick the ice bear (who is NOT a tame teddy bear, but does seem to make an awfully good pillow at times, and is sworn to her service, so the balance of power there diverges markedly from the fatherly or even big brotherly model).
I really don't know what to make of it all, or even if it should mean anything, but considering all my own family issues and questions about parental role models, I can't help but notice and wonder . . . a little.
While I thoroughly enjoyed the movie and highly recommend it to all my friends, there were still a few minor points that touched on some of my 'issues' about the role of parents in fantasy, so . . . here they are:
Much as I enjoyed the film, part of me can't help but wonder about the Freudian implications of the apparent bad-mother/good-father dichotomy set up at the end, especially in a fantasy universe written by a man but centered around a pre-adolescent female protagonist.
I love C.S. Lewis dearly, in many respects, but even as a young and naive college student (the age at which I read his children's novels, finally) I couldn't help but notice that in "The Chronicles of Narnia" grown-up females tended to be either absent or dying mothers OR evil witches -- I can recall very few examples of post-adolescent females being good, strong, and present and active in the story.
Now, in the first film adaptation based on "The Golden Compass" series, I really had to wonder about the fact that Lyra's major adult female influences were, on the one hand, an apparently severely disturbed mother (who beats up on her own soul/daemon when it gets in her way) eagerly working in the service of evil authorities, and on the other hand a free-spirited good witch who might lend bit of aid when absolutely needed but isn't overly eager to display any maternal instincts towards the kid.
Billy's Gyptian mum, though a strong and caring and admirable woman, seemed to be fairly peripheral, as far as Lyra personally was concerned (as, indeed, any friend's mother naturally tends to be, when you're that age -- she's not a person, after all, but rather your friend's mom and why should you think any more about her than that, most of the time?.
Meanwhile, we've got Lyra's biological father calling himself her 'uncle' and apparently not really willing (or maybe even able) to form a closer emotional bond, but relying on a bunch of college professors to stand in loco parentis for Lyra. As far as real emotional bonding between Lyra and adult males, the closest we get is the friendship she enjoys with Iorick the ice bear (who is NOT a tame teddy bear, but does seem to make an awfully good pillow at times, and is sworn to her service, so the balance of power there diverges markedly from the fatherly or even big brotherly model).
I really don't know what to make of it all, or even if it should mean anything, but considering all my own family issues and questions about parental role models, I can't help but notice and wonder . . . a little.
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Thanks for helping me to sort through these thoughts!
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Mrs. Coulter changes a bit in the next two books and is redeemed. Lord Asrial becomes darker and in some respects nastier. (The film didn't show the dark twist at the end of the novel - where Asrial betrays his daughter's trust.)
From what I've read of Pullman's interviews - I got the feeling that he felt the adult world had a tendency to "romanticize" childhood. To idealize children. And had a desire to preserve childhood - unwillingly to allow people to grow up. His biggest issue with Lewis (His Dark Materials is in some respects Pullman's response to the Narnia books and Lewis's writings) - was that Lewis wanted to keep children children forever. That the child was innocent and it was better to be a child than an adult. To be submissive and humble. Pullman felt that childhood is just a stage - and the point is to become an adult. To learn. To know good and evil. To have free will - to not stay forever in the preadolescent garden of eden. (This was my reading of Pullman's take on it. It's subtler in The Golden Compass - but really obvious in the last volume of the triology - The Amber Spyglass.)
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I find it fascinating that Pullman was in some sense reacting against Lewis' fantasy novels. I have to say that I am in complete sympathy with the idea that the essence of childhood is growing up. It's the constant changing, learning, and growing that makes it so full of wonder, rather than anything static or frozen in ignorance.
I'm reminded of a line from Dorothy L. Sayers (I think it was), arguing that when the Christian scriptures report Jesus saying that you have to enter the Kingdom like a little child, he didn't mean that Christian believers needed to be unquestioning, passive, ignorant, or infantilized. Rather, what is most characteristic about childhood is that eagerness to move forward, to grow up, and to ask as many questions and investigate as much as you possibly can towards that end. Rather than returning to the peace of the womb, the goal is to awaken on your fiftieth birthday with the same eagerness to learn and explore and see what the future holds as you did on your fifth birthday.
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Yes. In a sermon that the pastor gave at the Midnight Mass I attended last night - he mentioned somewhat the same thing. That we should approach Christmas much as a child does - not with the innocence of a child, but the exuberance, the joy.
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