Doing Violence to a Book

I'm glad that the success of Harry Potter, Narnia, and other fantasy book/movies has convinced the movie studios that such family-friendly films can be a worthwhile investment. Unfortunately, they still don't always understand and honor what made the books popular in the first place.

Case in point: This week saw the release of "The Seeker," a film loosely based on "The Dark is Rising" by Susan Cooper. I say "loosely" because whereas the Harry Potter people worked closely with J. K. Rowlings to stay true to her vision, the folks behind The Seeker made such major changes to the plot and characters that Cooper sent them a letter requesting that they make alterations (which I don't think were made).

For example, the book's main character is a cheerful 11-year-old British boy from a well-adjusted family. The screenwriter apparently decided audiences would relate better to a 13-year-old American struggling to adjust to life in Britain, cope with a dysfunctional family, and deal with relationship angst. Oh yeah, and save the world.

In a radio interview, Cooper said she deliberately placed her hero at the end of childhood rather than the beginning of adolescence because he would still be figuring out who he really is, rather than how he (and his hormones) relate to others. She conceded that you can't avoid "doing violence to a book" when you try to translate it to the screen, but you could sense the disappointment in her voice as she discussed how her book has been reworked.

I suppose that pain I heard in her voice was what made me want to write about all this. I couldn't help thinking how difficult it would be to I pour my heart and soul into into a story, then see it transformed into something I barely recognized. It seems almost like a sad form of plagiarism. The story's been reworked so much that it's no longer really Cooper's, yet the new version borrows so much from the old that the writer can't really claim it as his either. Perhaps if he'd added a subtitle: "The Seeker: An Unauthorized Retelling."

This sad business alone was enough to turn me off of the film, and since most reviews range from lukewarm to outraged I don't feel any great temptation to go see it. As one critic put it, the studio took a charming children's adventure and removed all the adventure and charm.

Someone Called for Chocolate?

STM, these are for you (and anyone you care to share with).

Because sometimes life's just a bear.

Life and Death

My friend Snow Dragonne recently complained about a show in which her favorite character sacrifices his life for the cause and to achieve his own redemption. Of course, this happens right as he finally begins dating his long-term love interest. SD wanted to know how come our media often equates heroism with sacrifice and death, rather than just letting the good guys live happily ever after. Her frustrations got me thinking about how (or whether) media reflects life.

We all know that triumphs purchased cheaply are valued cheaply, and pain and struggle strengthen our character far more than ease. Of course, I don't enjoy or invite tribulation, but on the other hand I know God didn't send us to this world to take a vacation. Life is supposed to be a mix of happy and hard, because if it were all easy and fun it would actually be a waste of our time. It would be like trying to work our muscles with inflatable dumbbells.

As for wanting to see the good guys live happily ever after, there are actually many shows and movies where that happens. They're produced by a company called Disney. I like those scenarios, but what I'd like to see more of is the sense that death is not the (often tragic) end of a story. Most of our tales treat death as the worst possible tragedy, to be avoided at all costs. If a beloved character dies, there is wrenching grief, but rarely any mention of hope for a reunion or that they have gone to a happier place. One of the things I love about the last Harry Potter book is the concept that death is merely an (admittedly intimidating) gateway that leads a good person on to something better, and to loved ones who are waiting eagerly to greet them.

Don't get me wrong--I am not overly eager to experience tribulation or death. However, I think it's important to remember that life is SUPPOSED to be hard, that trials serve an important purpose, and that the death of a good person is neither a tragedy for them nor a permanent separation for us (assuming we're good, too :).

New Template

Yes, you're at the right blog. I've been meaning to change my template for some time because I wanted something a little brighter, and because it always seemed strange to log onto other blogs that looked almost exactly like mine. I've never seen this template before, and it just seems to fit me better than most others I've seen. Plus, I like the little wingdings at the beginning of each post.

Of course, if I start seeing this one all over the place now, I may change again. We'll see.

Quote of the Day - "Life"

"The trick is to enjoy life. Don't wish away your days, waiting for better ones ahead." Marjorie Pay Hinckley

Sometimes I do pretty well at this. Other times I still take life--and myself--too seriously.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

When Baby and I were out for a walk today, we encountered an older gentleman who decided to strike up a conversation with Joy. I noticed she was grinning as he spoke to her. In fact she was smiling more than I'd seen her smile in the last few days. I realized it was probably because he was smiling at her, too.

That in itself was no great epiphany, but it made me recognize that I have not been smiling at my baby much lately. Most of the time that she is awake, I imagine I wear a very serious face as I try to determine what basic needs must be met (hunger, rest, sanitation, etc.), what comes next on her eating/sleeping schedule, or how best to entertain her (you know you're a grown-up when playing requires significant mental effort). I'm so busying managing that I forget to just have fun.

Ironic that this revelation occurred right after my post about showing Joy we like her. I can just imagine her thinking, "It's great that they feed me and change my diapers, but I sure wish that mom-lady was a bit more friendly." I want to teach her that home life - and life in general - should be enjoyed and not just endured.

Belonging

On our recent anniversary, Phillip and I decided to purchase The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman. We're currently a few chapters into it, and it has provided some helpful insights.

A statement in his introduction particularly struck me. Chapman said a child's most important, basic need is "to sense that he or she belongs and is wanted." I think that is at the core of every relationship - we all want to feel that we belong in a group (whether it be a family, a circle of friends, etc.), and that people like us and want us to be there.

I think that is also at the heart of my relationship with Joy. First of all, she belongs with our family. Other babies are cute and all, but when I see her, I think, "Ah! There's the baby that is inseparably connected to me. I'm hers, and she's mine." That said, I need to make sure she likes this family she's stuck with, and that she knows we like her.

Funny that a book on marriage makes me think about parenthood. Perhaps that's because I've been preparing for and nurturing my marriage for years, but I'm still very new to motherhood so any new advice is a revelation.