Magic in a Box: A Look at Magic Under Glass by Jaclyn Dolamore

Last week, Jezebel ran an article about Jaclyn Dolamore’s debut novel, Magic Under Glass, that immediately sparked my attention about the book. Published by Bloomsbury, it has already garnered intense controversy after only a few weeks on the shelves because of its cover. Magic Under Glass, a YA fantasy novel, tells the tale of a young performer named Nimira who sings and dances for pennies in a seedy dive as a “trouser girl” until she is hired by a wealthy, mysterious gentleman to sing with his piano playing automaton (a mechanical man). Naturally, she arrives to find that nothing is as it seems. Something we learn about Nimira very early on in the story is that she is a dark-skinned foreigner from a distant land who left home to find her fortune, only to be met with prejudice and disdain at every turn. Now take a look at that cover. What do you see? Exactly. Yet another white girl in a terrifying corset. And that corsage under the glass bell jar doesn’t figure in the book either.

Jezebel link: http://jezebel.com/5451058/magic-under-glass-the-white+washing-of-young-adult-fiction-continues

This controversy has been bringing to light a lot of unsavory things about the book business. Turns out this is not the first time Bloomsbury has forced a dark-skinned heroine to “pass for white” on her book cover. Last year, the same thing happened to Justine Larbalestier’s novel, Liar, also published by Bloomsbury. Larbalestier spoke out against this and managed to get her cover changed. Even though Dolamore’s less substantial reputation (this is her first novel, after all) made it seem doubtful at first that her book would get a similar reprieve, thankfully, it’s turned out differently thanks to incendiary coverage on-line and in the blogosphere. On January 21st, a representative released this statement, "Bloomsbury is ceasing to supply copies of the US edition of Magic Under Glass. The jacket design has caused offense and we apologise for our mistake. Copies of the book with a new jacket design will be available shortly."

Reissue link: http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/jan/22/bloomsbury-change-race-row-book-cover

It’s an all-too unspoken reality of the business that bookstores are still heavily segregated. Many bookstores I’ve been to, regardless of chain, size, or location, have separate African-American sections where African-American characters deal with African-American issues. Apparently, this section is markedly “lesser,” and a black girl on the cover on a “non-black” (i.e. written by a white woman) YA novel would banish it to this book store purgatory. Do publishers and bookstore owners seriously think this way? Do they seriously think that because I’m white, I couldn’t possibly care about the thoughts, feelings, and struggles of a girl with a different color skin? That’s insulting to readers of all races and negates one of the most beloved reasons for reading: to discover people, places, and things outside yourself and your immediate circle. “Post-racial” is a phrase being thrown around a lot nowadays to suggest that because we have an African-American president, racism is no longer an issue. Magic Under Glass proves otherwise. The fact that Nimira encounters prejudice because of her skin color and heritage repeatedly throughout the story turns this whole controversy into a case of hideous irony.

It also calls to mind another unfortunate reality of the book business: authors, especially first-time authors, have little to no say about their covers and the covers designers rarely read the books. As I said earlier, the scene depicted on the cover never happens in the novel and as we’ve already established, the model looks nothing like Nimira. As a writer, the idea of pouring your heart and soul into a book, struggling to get it published, to get it ready for the world, and then to have no say in the world’s first impression of it, infuriates me. As much as I hate to admit it, the cover almost always influences my decision whether or not to read a book, unless I go in because of a pre-existing interest. However, in the case of Magic Under Glass, Bloomsbury actually accomplished something else. They gave a unique book a generic cover attempting to lure an audience with familiarity rather than originality. Many YA novels, particularly fantasy novels, get covers similar to Magic Under Glass: our heroine (often looking nothing like our heroine), corseted, obscured in dim light, vaguely touching something. Libba Bray’s excellent 2003 novel, A Great and Terrible Beauty, may have started this trend. Just for the record, Bray’s book is about a girl at a boarding school in Victorian England, not a prostitute in the Wild West as the cover might suggest. Magic Under Glass’s is so standard, I probably wouldn’t have picked it up if I had seen it in the store. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have read it were it not for this controversy, which brings me to my last point.

Link to A Great and Terrible Beauty cover: http://www.wtps.org/wths/imc/Reading/graphics/great.jpg

The overall consensus from those who wrote about the controversy was not that readers should boycott the book, but that they should read it and then write about the issue. Hence, yours truly. Of course, boycotting is not the solution. Dolamore is a talented author who worked hard on her book and deserves to see it read and enjoyed. However, part of me can’t help thinking that perhaps Bloomsbury did this on purpose to garner publicity for it. After all, cover designers seldom read the book, but publishers do and any publisher with common sense should know that putting a white girl on the cover of a book with a black heroine will make a lot of people angry. And get them talking. It’s not exactly as if YA Fantasy is a dwindling genre (at least from a reader’s perspective). There are SO many books to choose from, how do you promote one by an unknown author that could easily fall through the cracks? I'm not saying Bloomsbury meant to do this, but if they did, it seems to be working, especially since they dealt with such a similar controversy so recently and this book’s heading in the same direction, new cover and all.

I enjoyed parts of Magic Under Glass very much, but I didn't love it. Admittedly, this is partly because the ending leaves a lot of questions unanswered, implying that it’s the first book in a series, which always pisses me off. If I’m starting a series, I like to know going in. However, there's a lot to like. Ironically, Dolamore creates a fantasy world where prejudice is as much a reality as it is here. I liked Nimira. She's a heroine who having been born to wealth and lost it all, has left home to make her own way but found only disappointment. And then her story begins. She has moments of snobbery as well as compassion, fear as well as bravery, homesickness, divided affection, and uncertainty. She understands how often women must pretend in the company of men simply to stay safe but is still willing to fight for what she loves and believes in. However, other characters in the book (many of the supporting characters) get next to no development, while others (like Hollin Parry, the mysterious gentleman who “rescues” Nimira from life as a trouser girl) are so fascinating, I wished for pages more dedicated to them. Like I said, it’s the first in a series. Many of these issues may be resolved in later books, which is all the more reason there should be something on the cover to indicate this. Beware though: it ends on a cliffhanger and I genuinely felt cheated at the end. Magic Under Glass is an uneven offering, but as I said before, Dolamore is a talented author and I enjoyed falling into her unique, well-drawn world. I can’t wait to see Nimira represented as she should be.

Miep Gies: 15 February 1909-11 January 2010

This is long overdue.

Miep Gies, the last surviving helper who protected Anne Frank and seven others in the "secret annex" of an office building in Nazi-occupied Holland during WWII, passed away on January 11 at age 100. Between July 1942 and August 1944, along with colleagues Victor Kugler, Johannes Kleiman, and Bep Voskujil, she had daily contact with the Frank family, the van Pels family, and Fritz Pfeffer, bringing them food, supplies, comfort, and news, and risking her own life to keep them safe. After their discovery in 1944, she narrowly escaped arrest and unsuccessfully tried to bribe a Nazi officer to set them free. She is also the also the one who discovered Anne's diary and kept it safe until she learned of her death.

After the war, she and her husband, Jan had one son, Paul. She was knighted by Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands in 1997 and for decades, provided Anne's readers with a window into her life and times.

I am only one of the countless people who have read, loved, and been moved by Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl. Without Miep and her awe-inspiring courage, we probably never would have known Anne and experienced her remarkable testament to the power of endurance, goodness, and hope during one of the darkest periods in human history.

With my thanks, rest in peace.

Stranger in Paradise: A Look at The Wicker Man (1973)

A few years back when I was a wee high school senior, I became fixated with a certain television special ranking the "100 Scariest Movie Moments of All Time." Combining my love of lists and my masochistic relationship with the horror genre, this special--which first aired on the days leading up to Halloween 2004--fascinated and terrified me in equal amounts. I think what made this list so unique for me (apart from the incredibly creepy music they used in it) was the choice of movies they featured. Some were classics I had seen many times, but some I had never even heard of and seeing their "scariest scenes" isolated and out of context in marathon form was like running the horror movie gauntlet. And the thing was about five hours long in total stretched over a period of days so you can imagine. I would watch the installments in the hours before bedtime (of course) and then be unable to sleep. I became so jittery I developed an irrational fear of my friend's bathroom (her father kept a radio in a linen closet and accidentally left it on one night, tuned into a talk radio station so while using the toilet, I heard a man's voice speaking softly in the linen closet and it knocked me sideways). The List made me aware of many cool, creepy movies I later sought out, watched in full, and enjoyed very much. But there were five movies included on the it that I vowed never to see because the snippets they showed freaked me out so much. The original version of The Wicker Man was one of these five.

I know I haven't properly begun and I'm already getting tangential, but it feels wrong for me to talk about this movie without mentioning The List. And what better way to ring in the New Year than to try and overcome old fears and insecurities?

The Wicker Man is one of the most popular cult movies of all time. Nevertheless, I am going to summarize it without spoiling the ending.

The Wicker Man opens with the arrival of police officer, Sergeant Neil Howie (Edward Woodward) on a remote Scottish island governed by Lord Summerisle (Christopher Lee—big surprise). He’s come to investigate the disappearance of a young girl, Rowan Morrison, from the isolated village (which takes up pretty much the entire island). He’s received an anonymous letter about the vanished girl and a photo of her which he whips out of his pocket with such authority, you’d think it was his badge. However, when he arrives and starts asking questions, he’s hard pressed to find anybody who recognizes Rowan, let alone who knows what happened to her. Half the people in town don’t even think she exists. Even her unfazed mother ignores his inquiries. The more Howie investigates, the clearer it becomes that he’s stumbled into a very unusual community. The people of the island practice paganism, dedicated to worshipping ancient gods and goddesses of nature and free from the traditional morality of Judeo-Christian religions. Orgies take place in public parks, adolescent girls dance naked around bonfires, and teachers speak candidly about fertility and reincarnation. And then there’s that young woman who bangs on his bedroom wall at night, singing about how much she wants to sleep with him. All this is very offensive to the staunchly Christian, still virginal Howie. Soon he’s sure that Rowan is in great danger, if she isn’t already dead.

The Wicker Man is a horror movie, but there are no jump-out-of-your-seat moments, no clear antagonists, no jet streams of split-pea soup or buckets of corn syrup, no cheap special effects etc. Instead there’s a creeping kind of horror at work here. The kind that crawls all over your skin, gets inside your head, and stays there for a week. I saw this three days ago, but every night since, it’s been the first thing I thought of after I shut the light off. It’s a movie about belief and what belief does to people. Something I loved about it was that there were no clearly marked signs declaring who was GOOD and who was EVIL. On the one hand, Summerisle looks idyllic. I found the idea of teachers being allowed to discuss sex in school in a calm, reasonable way to a classroom of attentive, equally calm students so refreshing. The townspeople understand their beliefs and defend them with pride and even practicality. When Howie complains to Lord Summerisle about the naked girls around the bonfire, Summerisle plainly replies (quite rightly) that it would be dangerous to dance around a bonfire with one’s clothes on. But on the flip side of this idyllic life lies something dark and sinister: sweetshops that sell people made out of chocolate, a woman breastfeeding in a graveyard, a bit of meat hanging in a tree, the cheery, smiling attitudes that answer Howie’s questions about death and murder. On top of that, Howie acts so self-righteous and judgmental throughout the film, even going so far as to call the villagers mad to their faces, your fear for him builds early and grows as the movie progresses until you’re screaming “don’t hassle the locals, you tactless fool!” The overall tone of the movie is intensely eerie, filmed in that grainy, almost-documentary style that was so prevalent in 70’s horror cinema and remains effective today. I didn’t think consciously about the acting or direction or technical aspects of the movie at first because it’s so engrossing, which goes to show how good the acting and direction are. And it’s a musical too. The characters break out into song (Celtic folk songs) at every turn and a haunting score by Paul Giovanni contributes to the aforementioned eeriness.

Set up as a confrontation between opposing religions, the movie doesn't pat anyone's back. Instead it shows how all-consuming belief can be and raises the question of why people turn to religion to explain the unknown. As is often the case with good movies of this nature, no answers are provided, only more questions. The movie becomes doubly disturbing when you realize that everything that happens in the movie can actually happen. And probably has. It feels very real. It isn’t for everybody—after all, it took me five years to say the title without feeling sick—but if you like horror movies that make you think, you’re in for a good one here.

Now on to those other four....

Yes, Virginia, this makes me cry every damn year...

In 1897, a little girl, Virginia O'Hanlon wrote to the New York Sun asking that terrible, inevitable question: "Is there a Santa Claus?" Francis Pharcellus Church, a former war correspondent, provided this famous answer.

DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old. "Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. "Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.' "Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?"VIRGINIA O'HANLON."115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there.

Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

A Christmas Potpourri!

In honor of the first real snowfall of the year (seriously, outside it’s nearly like a picture print from Currier and Ives!!!), I’ve decided to return to my aforementioned Christmas devotional with some suggestions for how to make your Yuletide more Yule-tastic. I can vouch for all of them and highly recommend making them a part of your holiday.

Note: I’ve excluded any mention of Red Ryder guns, Charlie Brown trees, Rankin-Bass or angels named Clarence, not because I don’t love these things, but because they’re everywhere.

And I promise: no seven swans a-swimming….

1. The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry

This is one of my favorite short stories of all time and my Christmas season isn’t complete without it. First published in 1906, the now famous twist ending has been rehashed in everything from The Honeymooners to Sesame Street to 7th Heaven to Rugrats. It’s one of those stories that has become so much a part of American Christmas culture, you know it whether you’ve read it or not. Jim and Della Dillingham Young are a young couple living in a Manhattan tenement at the turn of the 20th century. They want to get each other something special for Christmas but there’s no money to spare. She has long, beautiful hair; he has a gold watch he inherited from his father. She really wants a set of valuable combs; he really wants a nice watch chain. The result is ironic, wrenching, darkly funny, and so romantic. By the story’s end, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry (Jim and Della do both and so do I usually) but it doesn’t matter because you love the characters as much as they each other. I’ve only read a handful of O. Henry’s stories but judging from those, he seemed to enjoy and care about his characters. And he clearly adored Jim and Della. This is a story that, while especially meaningful at Christmas, is a pleasure to read year-round. In fact, I recommend it for Valentine’s Day too. It’s one of my favorite love stories.

P.S. I also recommend Pete’s Tavern in Manhattan. It’s the oldest operating pub in New York City and has been carefully preserved over the decades. Walking into it is like going back in time. Best of all, it's where O. Henry wrote The Gift of the Magi; the booth he sat in while he wrote it is done up like a shrine and the effect is chill-inducing.

2. All I Want For Christmas Is You by Vince Vance and the Valiants

Make no mistake. This is not Mariah Carey’s classic of the same, nor is it another version of that song. It’s a whole other monster—a country song from 1989—with the same title. I love Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You but so does everybody. This song doesn’t get as much play or attention, but every time it comes on, I melt. The gist is the same as Mariah Carey’s with the female singer declaring that she would trade all the ornamentations and material benefits of Christmas if only the guy she’s in love with could love her back / be with her. It’s slower and more mournful than Mariah Carey’s but still hopeful and very romantic. LeAnn Rimes did a cover in 2004 worth checking out but my money’s on the original.

3. The Lion in Winter

Dysfunctional family movies are a dime a dozen especially around this time of year, but this one, released in 1968, just might be the Mack daddy of them all. And based on a true story at that. It’s Christmas 1183 and the royal family of England has gathered to celebrate and to try and resolve an important family quarrel. The eldest son has recently died and England is in need of an heir. Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine (Katharine Hepburn) wants the crown to go to her favorite, Richard (Anthony Hopkins), an accomplished soldier and the next in line. King Henry II (Peter O’Toole) wants it to go to his favorite, John (Nigel Terry) a spoiled teenaged brat. Standing in the background with no champion but himself is the middle child, Geoffrey (John Castle) who has been turned into a calculating, vengeful machine by a lifetime of neglect. Anybody with a passing knowledge of English history (or the story of Robin Hood) knows how it all turns out, but as always, the fun is in the journey. The cast is excellent and the movie has suspense, scandal, political intrigue, tragedy, and even romance. And it’s very funny. Throw in Henry’s young mistress / John’s fiancée (Jane Merrow), a very young Timothy Dalton as King Phillip of France, and one of the best scripts ever written and you’ve got yourself a Christmas party. It doesn’t give the same warm fuzzy as your standard Christmas faire but who can’t relate to a family just trying to get through the holidays without any betrayals, murders, or insurrections?

4. The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson

This book has been a Christmas tradition in my house since I was nine years old. It’s the story of the six Herdman kids considered “the worst kids in the history of the world” by their classmates. They’re mean, they curse, they smoke cigars, they steal, and do basically everything kids aren’t supposed to do. When they crash Sunday school in search of free sweets, they end up taking over the annual Christmas pageant, a tradition nobody in town has much feeling for anymore, and bring it to life. This is one of the funniest books I have ever read. The descriptions of Sunday school (CCD to us Catholic kids), grammar school, and suburban politics all vividly echo my own childhood experiences and give me a nostalgic rush every time I reread them. However, for all its humor (and there is a lot), the book also provides a subtle, powerful message about Christmas. As the Herdmans destroy the angelic pretenses of the Christmas pageant (calling Mary pregnant! burping the baby Jesus!) they accidentally restore humanity to the holier-than-thou proceedings. By daring to imply that maybe the baby Jesus cried and had colic like the rest of us, they remind their audience that “when Jesus said ‘suffer the little children to come unto me’, he meant all little children. Even the Herdmans.”

6. The Nutcracker and the Mouse King by E.T.A. Hoffmann

The holiday season wouldn’t be complete without the classic love story of a seven-year-old girl and her favorite Christmas present. First published in 1816, it’s become a holiday tradition thanks to the beloved ballet, but unfortunately, the ballet only tells half the story. If you want the full dirt (and a happier ending) this is the road to take. On Christmas Eve, young Marie (yes, Marie—not Clara!!!) receives a special present from her godfather, Drosselmeyer. It’s a Nutcracker and it’s love at first sight which isn’t weird at all because he’s really a handsome prince under a spell. Of course, he is. And of course, there’s a horrific band of mice he must fight before he can change back. And of course, all the toys will come to life and help him so he can return to his fantasy land kingdom that, of course, needs a queen. We get to see the relationship between Marie and the Nutcracker Prince develop and grow into a real romance in which they are equal partners. It also tells us the back story of how he came to be a Nutcracker and why only Marie’s love could set him free. Hoffmann has a lot of fun messing with us here, blurring the line between fantasy and reality to the point where we have no idea what really happened and what Marie dreamed. If she dreamed any of it. This story is definitely the reason I became obsessed with nutcrackers as a kid and now have a huge collection of them headed by one special fellow who just refuses to turn into a prince. Ah well, a girl can dream.

7. Double Feature: The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) and A Christmas Carol (1984)

There are countless adaptations of Charles Dickens’s classic novel about an uncaring miser’s Christmas redemption and how he returns to humanity with the aid of three Spirits. The 1951 version, Scrooge, starring Alastair Sim is almost universally regarded as the best and it is great, but my heart belongs to The Muppet Christmas Carol above all. There are those who would challenge me, call it a generational thing, say I have no idea what I’m talking about and to those naysayers, I would simply have to hum a few bars of any song in this unsung masterpiece to feel I had made my point. Michael Caine is hands-down my favorite Scrooge, making his character’s transformation real and emotionally wrenching. It’s slow, it takes time, and it’s so real. More than any other Scrooge, Caine shows us the good person underneath all along, done in by bitterness and neglect. To say nothing of the fact that he acts alongside the Muppets as well as if they were human actors. And I don’t think human actors could have done a better job than Kermit as Bob Cratchit, Robin as Tiny Tim, Miss Piggy as Mrs. Emily Cratchit, Statler and Waldorf as Marley and Marley (avarice and greed!) and of course, Gonzo as “a blue-faced Charles Dickens who hangs out with a rat” (as in Rizzo the). When I read the book, I imagine the characters to look like the Muppets. And the music…I dare you not to cry during When Love is Gone or Bless Us All. Or get all warm inside when the Hagrid-like Ghost of Christmas Present leads all of London in It Feels Like Christmas. I’ve seen this countless times and yet every time I still laugh and cry and want to be a better person. Beautiful.

However, if you’re in the mood for something a little darker and more unsettling (which is saying something considering the Muppets version scared the bejeezus out of me way back when), there’s always the 1984 British TV version starring George C. Scott as Scrooge. Though A Christmas Carol is ultimately life-affirming and joyful, it presents a terribly dark and dismal journey. After all, it centers around a man who must revisit the most painful moments of his life, witness his mistakes, and face the prospect of his death and the death of an innocent child he could have helped if only he had cared enough. Scott makes a great Scrooge, even though he stays gruff a little too long, in my opinion. Scrooge needs to melt slowly (something Caine did wonderfully). But Scott does a fantastic job with Scrooge at his meanest and at his most joyful, bringing me to tears when he realizes he still has time to change and drawing belly-laughter when he scares Bob Cratchit to death with his kindness. And speaking of Bob Cratchit, he’s played by the one and only David Warner (Gregory Peck’s unfortunate sidekick in The Omen) who is wonderful. But of course, I’ll watch him in anything. The three Spirits (Angela Pleasence, Edward Woodward, and Michael Carter) are morbid, sarcastic, frightening and don’t seem to like Scrooge very much, something I found oddly refreshing. Never has the Ghost of Christmas Present’s speech about Scrooge’s ambivalence towards “the surplus population” haunted me so much. To add to the horror, Ignorance and Want show up in all their terrifying glory. The sight of these two proved to be one of the my most powerful movie experiences as a kid and marked the first time a movie ever truly disturbed me. This version also includes the relationship between Scrooge and his beloved sister, Fan (Joanne Whalley) and shows how her early death led to his cruel treatment of her son, his nephew, Fred (Roger Rees) who loves him anyway. If I have one problem with the Muppet version, it’s that they cut Fan out, choosing to focus on Scrooge’s forsaken love, Belle instead. Watch the Muppets for Belle and this one for Fan. Either way, your heart will break.

I highly recommend watching these two as a double feature. A Christmas Carol is one of those stories that lends itself to being retold. You don’t have to pick just one if you don’t want to. These are two great, very different interpretations and both are worth watching.

Until we meet again, my pickles.

The Whiff of a Renaissance: A Look at The Princess and The Frog

Already, I’m breaking my commitment to the coming Yule, but how could I let this go by without a word?

It’s back. I knew it couldn’t and wouldn’t stay away long. Hand-drawn animation. Anybody who knows me knows I am a huge Disney fan, particularly of the animated movies. I’ve been fascinated by the animation process since I saw my very first Behind the Scenes documentary at the ripe old age of four. When I first heard back in the early 00’s, that Disney—in a move driven by Pixar-envy, defeatism, and all-out stupidity—had decided to shut down its hand-drawn animation studio, I was devastated. They figured that since Pixar’s movies were so successful, it could have nothing to do with story or characters. It had to be the computer animation. It apparently wasn’t enough that the Disney channel had to devolve from a groundbreaking blend of The Wonderful World of Disney, PBS, and Turner Classic Movies to a mini-American Idol factory; that my beloved princesses had to be plasticized and repackaged as new age Barbies; that a new straight to DVD sequel kept bouncing off the conveyor belt every six months. Nope, now they had to axe hand-drawn animation, the art form that gave birth not only to the Disney studios and corporation but animation as we know it today, computer generated or not. Once I had cried my tears and swept up the salt, I told myself that this was probably just a phase and that it wouldn’t be long before wiser heads prevailed. At the time, this might have just been my characteristic denial talking, but in typical Disney fashion, my wish came true. And now we have The Princess and the Frog.

I have done my best not to include spoilers.

I was so excited and so nervous when I arrived at the theater last Friday night. The Princess and the Frog did not have an easy birth and has been fraught with controversy since the studio announced that it would feature their first African-American princess (read: heroine) after almost 75 years of primarily white characters. I hoped against hope they would do a good job not only with their leading lady but with everything—the songs, the animation, and of course, the story, a twisted take on the Grimm Brothers’ The Frog Prince (actually titled The Frog King or Iron Heinrich), largely inspired by E.D. Baker’s novel The Frog Princess. I grew up in the 90’s during what is now known as the Disney Renaissance—a period when movies like The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and The Lion King were practically an annual guarantee. During the last ten years, however, they broke with their traditional “fairy tale musical” formula and though this led to some great things (why oh why haven’t more people seen The Emperor’s New Groove, Lilo and Stitch, or Treasure Planet?!?!?!?!?) it made me homesick for fairy tales. And I know I’m not the only one. So when the lights went dark and that new-fangled Disney logo appeared, I held my breath and waited.

Directed by John Musker and Ron Clements (who also directed The Little Mermaid and Aladdin) and set in New Orleans in the 1920s, the story follows a young woman named Tiana who has wanted to own her own restaurant since she was a very little girl. Her dream is a continuation of her father’s who died (in World War One) before he could make that dream come true. In a heart-warming prologue, her father tells her that while wishing is important—everything starts with a wish, after all—it will only get you so far. You’ve got to work hard to make your dreams come true. It’s a lesson Tiana takes to heart and one that pushes her to work two jobs and save every penny, even while her friends are out having fun. Meanwhile, a prince has come to visit New Orleans. Prince Naveen of Maldonia (which I cannot for the life of me find in my atlas) is a ukulele playing, free-loading, fun-loving ladies man who has been recently cut off by his royal parents and must marry a wealthy young woman in order to continue living his desired lifestyle. The lady Naveen has his eye on is Charlotte, Tiana’s friend and the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in the city, who wants nothing more than to marry a prince so she can be a princess. Overseeing all is the dastardly, charismatic voodoo practitioner, Dr. Facilier (also known as the Shadow Man) who sees Naveen’s arrival as the key to gaining control of New Orleans. Long story short, Naveen gets turned into a frog, one misunderstanding after another sends him to Tiana for help, she turns into a frog too (it makes sense in context) and they set off through the Louisiana bayous in search of a spell to make them human again.

The characters were the highlight for me. I loved Tiana. I related to her very much. Anybody who has ever worked hard to achieve a goal can relate to her. There’s never been an entrepreneur Disney princess before and now we have one. Her song Almost There gave me happy goose bumps and her relationship with her father is very moving. She’s beautiful but she doesn’t define herself by her beauty and neither does anybody else. She can sing but only because this is a musical and everybody can sing. Nobody falls in love with her at the sound of her voice. She teaches the prince a thing or two but is also open to change in her own life. And she can make a better gumbo than anybody else in the dang movie. Luckily, this movie broke the current trend of casting a name celebrity in every role. Tony winner Anika Noni Rose provides Tiana’s voice and she does a stupendous job. Her singing and acting are both spot on and she brings a real heart and soul to the character that made me love her all the more.

As for his highness, Prince Naveen tickled me to the core. Imagine if Prince Phillip from Sleeping Beauty and Dmitri from Don Bluth’s Anastasia had a love child, raised him in Brazil, and occasionally let Gaston from Beauty and the Beast baby-sit. That child would grow up to be Prince Naveen. And, like his fathers, he’s a hunk. Even as a frog. Like Tiana, he has an arc and develops as a character. He is arrogant without being off-putting, charming but not slimy (except for when he's secreting mucus, that is), and overall, lovable. I’ve decided that Bruno Campos (who provided Naveen’s voice) must be in more movies, animated or otherwise. His performance had me cracking up through out.

Charlotte, Tiana’s friend, is a hoot and gets some of the best lines. For example, “I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church.” I did not expect to like her fearing that she would be the archetypal spoiled rich girl who treats Our Heroine like dirt. She is spoiled to be sure, but she is not mean and she genuinely cares for Tiana. She is also a very subtle parody of Disney princesses of yore. More than anything else, she wants to marry a prince. And it’s pretty much all she talks about. Jennifer Cody (who performed in Broadway’s Urinetown) must also be in more for the same reason as Bruno Campos.

Dr. Facilier is a great villain—funny, charismatic, genuinely menacing, prone to bending others to his will by tempting them with their fiercest desires. All that good stuff. And his shadow minions are terrifying. I used to have nightmares about shadows that looked exactly like that. In the tradition of great Disney villains, he gets a great song, Friends On the Other Side. This scene might be my favorite in the film. Keith David’s vocal performance is wonderful and the animation is jaw-dropping. We get to see the transformation from Naveen’s point of view as he changes from human to frog. In song! Talk about ideal for animation. This moment cried out to me on so many levels—as an animation fan, as a fairy tale scholar, and as a writer who has written the same scene in her own version of The Frog Prince. In the fairy tale, it’s never revealed why he was turned so it’s up to the imagination of every reader and interpreter. And this one’s good. It’s fantastic. A fantastic song and scene. And a great villain.

There are many more great characters but they should really be met on their own, not spoiled by me in a fangirl rush. One is further proof that Jim Cummings is a truly great vocal performer.
Can I ask for three cheers in honor of the fact that Disney has reacquainted itself with sexual innuendo? I am happy to report that it abounds in this movie. Not in an obnoxious dick and fart joke way either. Just a few good adult laughs.

The songs by Randy Newman are very good, though not quite up to the standard set by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman. This is an unfair complaint though. Menken and Ashman’s songs were so instrumental to the success of The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and Aladdin that anybody who has written a song for a Disney movie since has been compared to them (usually unfavorably). I did love the music here. I’ve been listening to Down in New Orleans, Almost There, and Friends on the Other Side almost non-stop since I saw it. But there’s no Part of Your World. Of course, this could also be nostalgia talking. Ask me again when I have 20 years of memories connected to these songs.

The movie isn’t perfect. The third act gets a little convoluted (and dark even though this isn’t necessarily a bad thing). I’ve seen the thing twice now and I’m still not exactly sure what Dr. Facilier was trying to accomplish by turning Prince Naveen into a frog (suggestions are welcome). Also the character of the prince’s downtrodden manservant, Lawrence could have used a little more development. Not only did I resent that he was all that remained of Iron Heinrich (the frog prince’s best friend and faithful servant in the fairy tale) but I felt this could have been a potentially complex character who instead had to serve as comic relief. The ending lacks a certain something, even though it features one of the best, hilariously inappropriate lines (courtesy of Charlotte). But I wasn’t crying and I was pissed off that I wasn’t crying. It should be noted that I choked up several times during the movie, but not at the fricking end! The hell, Disney?

I wish that Tiana didn’t have to spend most of the movie as a frog. I’m not alone here, I know. She’s such a cool character and so revolutionary in terms of both race and gender that it felt almost like a waste for her to be written off as an “animal” character. Of course, this is still an improvement over some of the past heroines. Consider that Tiana is human in her movie longer than Aurora is awake in hers. I can see the moviemakers’ dilemma. The fairy tale can be potentially difficult to adapt faithfully. The princess is a brat, the frog’s behavior borders on sexual harassment, and she turns him back to a prince not by kissing him but by chucking him angrily against the wall. Also it requires a lot of padding. Add in the factor that it is basically a Beauty and the Beast story. Girl meets animal. Girl falls in love with/gets passionately pissed at animal. Animal turns out to be a boy. Girl and boy live happily ever after. And they made that movie two decades ago. Too well to do it again. Some kind of twist was necessary. But still…

Growing up, I didn’t have to look far to find a Disney princess with my color hair, eyes, and skin. It was something I was able to take for granted. Princesses are not all sparkly dresses and rosy cheeks. They represent something to the little girls who latch onto them, something primal and important. I was by no means a girly girl during my childhood but I still clung to the princesses like nobody’s business. I felt like a misfit a lot of the time growing up, as I’m sure everybody does. I looked to Belle, also bookish and solitary, as a kind of role model. I too wanted “adventure in the great, wide somewhere” and somebody to share it with. And it didn’t hurt that I often wore my light brown hair up in a ponytail. They aren’t characters to be written off as stupid plastic dolls who occasionally sing and marry the prince in the third reel. Tiana is a great role model for girls of all skin colors but she also represents growing diversity and provides African-American girls with a princess who looks like them. Hopefully, this is a step in the right direction that won’t be soon forgotten.

Last but not least, the animation. I did not give enough credit to the animation. Did I mention it’s old-school hand-drawn animation? Because it is. I had forgotten how beautiful hand-drawn animation looked on the big screen. It’s magical. I don’t mean to take anything away from computer generated animation. Pixar deserves all its praise. Hell, I went to see Up in the theater three times. But I have always been partial to hand-drawn, and I've always thought they could peacefully coexist. Apart from the transformation, I really loved a shot where Tiana is describing what she wants her restaurant to look like to her mother. And as she sings (of course, sings) it comes to life around her in the dilapidated old building she hopes will be her location. And then when the song ends, we return to reality and the golden roof disappears beam by beam and turns back into shafts of sunlight pouring through the holes in the roof. It’s such a moving moment—hopeful and sad at the same time—and beautifully animated.

Something I especially loved about this movie was how it portrayed New Orleans. It is very much a love letter to New Orleans and the Louisiana bayous. The movie introduces its setting with “in the South land, there’s a city, way down on the river,” making it sound as mystical and magical as any storybook land. Disney fairy tales usually take place in fairy tale worlds. Even Beauty and the Beast, which takes place in France, still has an enchanted castle sitting at the top of a mountain. But New Orleans is a real place. A real American city with a very raw recent history. It's romanticized here but hopefully that will make viewers want to get to know it better.

Go see this movie. Please. It’s a good movie. A very good movie. Fun and flawed. The whiff of another Renaissance, perhaps? Hopefully.

And no more sequels, Disney. Please.

Behind the Music: A Look at The Thirteen Days of Christmas by Jenny Overton

“On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me A Partridge in a Pear Tree.”
--The Twelve Days of Christmas, Traditional

“When Prudence Kitson asked her father what he would like for Christmas, he sighed and said, ‘A husband for your sister.’” –The Thirteen Days of Christmas, Jenny Overton


Oh boy, it’s that time of year again. How? Why? Wasn’t Halloween last weekend? No?

Okay, I’ll bite. Luckily, it’s early enough in December to see Christmas gleaming on the horizon without panicking too much so to honor the coming craziness, I thought I’d devote a few entries to things of a Yuletide nature. And to start with we have…

The Thirteen Days of Christmas by Jenny Overton based on that inevitable holiday favorite The Twelve Days of Christmas. I’ve always considered The Twelve Days of Christmas the It’s a Small World After All of Christmas carols. It shows up year after year usually to the chagrin of at least one audience member; it features one refrain that repeats over and over with slightly different lyrics; it’s been parodied endlessly; and once you get in your head, it will not leave. If you ever attend a Christmas concert at an elementary, middle, or high school and the program tells you to stay afterwards for a “Special Sing-Along” this will probably be the song they make you sing. What’s more you will probably be made to sing it while holding a giant poster-board with SEVEN SWANS A-SWIMMING in huge letters over your head and shouting your given lyric at the appropriate time. Trust me, I speak of what I know.

That said, I’ve always enjoyed it, in spite of myself and the world. It’s a fun song and I always thought there had to be an interesting story behind it. Who was this true love who had the power to send not only enough birds accommodate an Alfred Hitchcock film, but also actual people dancing and milking and leaping and performing on command? Was he in the slave trade? Was he a god of some kind? And where did his lady keep all her gifts? Was she too in possession of some superhuman abilities? And what was the reason for all this crazy gift-giving? Finally, Overton’s book provides answers.

The Thirteen Days of Christmas takes place in England many years ago when Christmas lasted twelve days (Dec. 25-Jan. 5). Thirteen if you count the Epiphany (Jan. 6). Each day was its own holiday with its own customs. A specific year is never given. I figure it’s pre-18th century since that’s when the song was first printed after spending some time in the oral tradition and it looks like the 15th or 16th judging from the illustrations. Our heroine, the receiver of the gifts, is Annaple Kitson. Since her mother’s death, she has been in charge of the household, much to the chagrin of her father, younger sister and two younger brothers. She’s a lousy cook, a stern taskmaster in all other respects, and her overactive imagination often makes her impossible to live with. She’s being courted by a very sweet, very, very wealthy young man named Francis who is completely crazy about her. When her family decides that the time has come to get Annaple married and out of the house, Francis seems perfect for the job. Unfortunately, Annaple wants nothing to do with Francis. She thinks he’s too boring and unromantic. Of course, anybody would seem boring and unromantic when you have visions of fairy tale princes and passionate shepherds dancing in your head (again, I speak of what I know). In desperation, Annaple’s siblings corner Francis and tell him that in order to win Annaple’s heart he should give her something romantic and inventive for Christmas. She likes to imagine herself as a goose girl in the country so why not some geese? She finds birds romantic so why not a bird? She loves fairy tales so why not a swan or a pipe to remind her of one of her favorites? Francis takes the advice to heart and nobody, least of all Annaple, is prepared for what he actually sends.

Of course, you know the song so you know what he sends. What starts out simply and sweetly enough—a partridge in a pear tree, followed the next day by a pair of turtle doves—quickly turns wild, unpredictable, and hilarious as Francis starts sending over more animals than the house can hold, more milk than the family can drink, and enough hired dancers and drummers to draw crowds from all over town. Annaple’s casual fancies and passing whims turn into extravagant (usually living) presents. Also Overton takes the song literally, meaning that on the fifth day, Francis not only sends five gold rings, but also four more calling birds, three more French hens, two more turtle doves, and of course, another partridge in another pear tree. The end total amounts to 364 individual presents. Spectators start lining up each the morning to see the new batches be delivered and place bets about what he’ll give next. By the third day, Annaple is annoyed, by the sixth, she’s furious, and by the twelfth, she’s in love. I won’t spoil what finally tips her over the edge but it’s very romantic indeed. I probably would have said yes too.

This was one of the most delightful books I’ve read in awhile. That’s a slightly archaic word delightful, used ironically a lot of the time these days (damn these days!) but I mean it sincerely. It was a lot of fun to read and it made me feel good. Even though you know how the song goes, Overton manages to keep the story fresh day after day. The question isn’t what will he bring, it’s how will he bring it, how will Annaple react, and where will the family put it? Some of the funniest passages describe the birds hissing at each other all night and the family having to bathe in milk because there’s just too much.

There’s a very subtle Taming of the Shrew vibe to the entire story. At the start of the book, Annaple is borderline unlikable. Nothing and nobody is good enough for her. She goes on about how perfect farm life must be and what idyllic lives goose girls must lead, completely ignoring how farmers and goose girls actually live. On the sixth day, when Francis sends six geese a-laying, Annaple initially refuses to accept them. The goose girl points out that she won’t get paid if Annaple doesn’t take the geese and Annaple, noticing the girl’s bare feet, decides she can’t let the girl suffer and accepts the presents. By the end, she’s been spoon fed a bit of reality without having to totally give up her imaginative ways.

Francis has an arc of his own, changing from a stuffy, boring type (though I could not for the life of me see what was so boring about him in the beginning) to a fun, imaginative suitor willing to do anything and spend anything (seriously, the guy must have one of those money growing trees I keep hearing about) to win over his ladylove. By the end, I wanted to marry him. Sure, there’s something innately off-putting about the whole “I’m going to bug you until you love me” tactic and I would have liked a little more development between Annaple and Francis but it’s a fun love story meant to be taken with a grain of salt. Overton’s writing crackles with humor and honesty. She captures family relationships wonderfully, mixing together just the right amount of tenderness, love, and tension. Especially scrumptious are the historical details peppered throughout. I learned so much about how Christmas used to be celebrated without even realizing it.

Something I especially liked about the book was how it showed the evolution of the song. With each passing day, the crowd of spectators grows bigger and bigger and they start chanting about the growing amount and variety of presents as they are brought to Annaple’s house. This chant (on the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…) turns into a song. Overton makes you believe that the song really could have originated this way and then gone on to thrive in oral tradition until somebody (James O. Halliwell, savior of so many English nursery rhymes) wrote it down. It makes the whole story so poignant to think of the courtship of this one couple during this one holiday season being commemorated forever in song, even after many of the traditions they value so much have vanished. It’s astonishing to think of a time when Christmas actually lasted twelve days and every day had its own rituals and customs. It upsets me that so many of those customs have gone by the wayside and makes me wonder how we’ll celebrate Christmas 400 or 500 years from now. At least, these customs haven’t been forgotten even though they are no longer performed that often (at least not in my neighborhood). Overton’s book is proof of that, as is the song that inspired it.

I highly recommend The Thirteen Days of Christmas. Unfortunately, though it’s still alive and well in the UK where it was first published in 1972, it’s no longer in print here in the US. If you’re interested, your local library may have it or they could get it for you—worked for me. And now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been listening to The Twelve Days of Christmas on loop for the past hour. I think I’m going to go listen to It’s a Small World After All three times at a loud volume and hopefully pass out. Thank you.

In case you're in the mood to listen to the song after all this dissection here's one of my favorite versions....John Denver and the Muppets!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1szT-GOvug

And if not, here are the lyrics written out. It's not like you don't know the tune.

http://www.41051.com/xmaslyrics/twelvedays.html