Friday, February 27, 2009

Forge is White, but Nick Fury is Black

My brother thinks that the new Wolverine and The X-Men Nick Fury is a combination of 616 Nick Fury, and Ultimayes Nick Fury. I just think, "Buh?"
He's also an ass, but that's no different from any Nick Fury incarnation.

That is all.

The Moorchild by Eloise McGraw

I love children's literature. There's an element of sadness inherent in all good children's books, (for example, The Mouse and His Child, Peter Pan, The Little Prince, even the Oz books), that is not always present in adult literature. good children's books tend to make one fact clear: Life is a bittersweet proposition. You may get to go to Wonderland, but there'll be a lot of pain you'll have to face while you're there.
This bittersweetness is part of why I've become so fond of Eloise McGraw's The Moorchild. The Moorchild is the story of Saaski, a half-fairy, half-human child who becomes a "changeling": that is, she is left in exchange for a human couple's child that the fairies steal. Saaski is both fairy and human, and yet also neither fairy nor human. Though the book is dedicated to "every child who ever felt different," I do imagine it would hold something of a special resonance for any children whom are of a mixed-race desecendance.
That being said, the fairy folk are not based on any particular race, (thankfully, as they are presented as being thoroughly non-human), while the humans are clearly white Europeans. Saaski deals with obvious prejudice and hatred from the other children, at first, because of her very different appearance, and then later, because of her very different personality. I think anyone who's ever been referred to as "that weird kid" can relate to some of what Saaski goes through.
Saaski has no special skills, no truly impressive magical powers. (The book makes it quite clear that she is very, very bad at "winking out," the fairies' ability to disappear.) She is simply very brave, rather clever, and extremely good at playing the bagpipes. Saaski is also not a particularly perfect little girl; she is stubborn, often selfish, and prone to expressions of deep anger. Nonetheless, as she grows to love her adoptive parents, she also begins to realize the cruelty of the fairies in stealing their child and giving them Saaski. Therefore, Saaski decides to steal the child back from the fairies.
As I said, The Moorchild has its bittersweet elements. Many of them, in fact. The book doesn't shy away from the fact that raising a child like Saaski is difficult, not only because of the way she is, but also because of the fact that hatred felt towards Saaski is often directed at her parents. Though there is love, (or at least something close to it), between Saaski and her parents, there is also a great deal of pain felt by all of them in trying to keep Saaski. (There is also pain felt in the fact that Saaski cannot be kept.)
I sincerely hope The Moorchild is a widely-read book, especially by young girls, as Saaski is an excellent heroine. Saaski is neither perfect nor unlikably flawed, neither ruled by her emotions nor immune to them. Though there is Tam, the boy whom Saaski eventually decides she "belongs" with, (as neither of them seem to belong anywhere), there is no real hint of a romance between the two of them.
I loved The Moorchild because it didn't take the easy route in Saaski's story; she does not gain acceptance from either the fairies or the humans. Instead, she has to forge her own path. I feel the book has a good message for parents, particularly parents of "unique" children, as well. The message, to me, is that no matter how difficult, and how painful, raising that "different" child was, they will leave an indelible mark upon your soul; you will never be the same again. Often, that mark is a painful one, or at least one that leaves a bittersweet feeling, just as The Moorchild does.

Friday, February 13, 2009

I'm Aware of the New Casting Decision for the Live Action Avatar

I must admit, the fact that we're not getting stuck with Jesse McCartney as Zuko brings me joy. Also, from everything I've heard about Dev Patel, he sounds immensely talented, and I'm tempted to watch the film only because I want to see what Patel does with Zuko.
That being said, it feels like, as Avalon's Willow states, "so many dry, thin bones" we're being tossed, to try to keep us quiet about the whitewashed cast. Not only that, but it reminds me of the Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian movie, with the race issues inherent in some of their decisions.
I'm referring, to, specifically, their decisions to avoid controversy by representing the Telmarines as they are portrayed in the book: that is, vaguely Arabic or Middle Eastern. That was a good decision. In doing this, however, they cast the Telmarines as Spanish conquistadors, making the movie instead about the good, white Anglo-Saxon Europeans, (and their dark-skinned friend), battling the treacherous, hot-blooded, Mediterranean Europeans. In attempting to keep people quiet about one race issue, they only managed to bring up another.
I know this makes it seem as if filmmakers "just can't win" when it comes to race, but I'm not saying that. What they need to do is actually be aware of the race isues involved in their decisions, and actually act on those issues. When someone points out, "Hey, this movie about an 'Asian-based world' seems to have an all-white cast," someone, somewhere along the line needs to do more than just brush away the criticism. Someone needs to do more than just give us some stereotypically ethnic extras, and a single non-white character, particularly when he's a villian. (Or even the anti-hero; even if he is the most interesting character in the story.) Someone needs to say, "OK, it's time to stop using the 'these were the best actors we could find' excuse, because nobody's buying it."

Sunday, February 8, 2009

I'm Going to Have to Give Coraline a Little More Thought...

...Before I decide exactly how I feel about it.
Went to see it last night with some friends, and, mostly, I think it's an adorable movie. However, the "Demon Mother Who Devours You" plot point irks me sometimes. As, this time, it comes from Neil Gaiman, who, in "How to Talk to Girls," presents the female species as this scary "Other," I feel the need to give Coraline a little more examination before I give my complete interpretation of "The Other Mother." Linking her to "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" was a clever way of linking her with Arthurian legends, though.