On The 150th Anniversary Of The Civil War

(John Hay, one of Abraham Lincoln's secretaries, gives his assessment of the achievement of the late President.)

"Where," asked Mr. Schuyler, "would you place Mr. Lincoln amongst the presidents of our country?"

"Oh, I would place him first."

"Above Washington?" Mr. Schuyler looked startled.

"Yes," said Hay, who had thought a great deal about the Tycoon's place in history. "Mr. Lincoln had a far greater and more difficult task than Washington's. You see, the southern states had every Constitutional right to get out of the Union. But Lincoln said, no. Lincoln said, this Union can never be broken. Now that was a terrible responsibility for one man to take. But he took it, knowing he would be obliged to fight the greatest war in human history, which he did, and which he won. So he not only put the Union back together again, but he made an entirely new country, and all of it in his own image."

--from Lincoln: A Novel, by Gore Vidal.

Playing Around In Earthsea: A Look At Studio Ghibli's "Tales From Earthsea"

The facts of the matter are simple: Tales From Earthsea was released in Japan in 2006; it did not come to the US until 2010; and now in 2011 it is available on DVD. Hiyao Miyazaki had wanted to make a movie about Earthsea since his fabled Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind days, and when Studio Ghibli contacted Ursula K. LeGuin for permission to adapt her work, she agreed, under the impression that Miyazaki himself would direct it. It was, however, relegated to Miyazaki's son Goro, and stands as his debut as a director. After LeGuin watched the film, she commented that it was a fine movie, but it was not her book. Tales From Earthsea is largely the story of The Farthest Shore (LeGuin's third Earthsea book), with elements from Tehanu (the fourth) and even a dollop of The Other Wind (the sixth). As such, it is still the story of the Archmage Ged seeking to stop an evil wizard bent on destroying the balance of life and death so that he can live forever (The Farthest Shore), but includes the character of a young girl who is also a dragon (Tehanu) as a love interest for the young prince Arren, who is caught up in the struggle (The Other Wind, in which Arren is attracted to the dragon/woman Irian). Added to the soup is inspiration from "Shona's Journey," a song by Hiyao Miyazaki. I came to Tales From Earthsea with several drawbacks. For one, I had developed a certain image of what Earthsea and its people were like from Leguin's descriptions, and much of Goro's depictions, while gorgeous in themselves, are strangely discordant to me. The Byzantian splendor of Havenor, the capital city; the beard on Ged; the steampunk-style helmet on Hare, the slaver; the odd riding-beasts; none of these seemed right to me. Granted, there was not the years of iconography to draw on that, say, Peter Jackson had to draw on for his adaptation of Tolkien's work, but then the spirit of the books themselves should have been the artists' guide. So, too, the dynamics of the characters seemed disjointed. The movie starts with the inexplicable murder by Prince Arren of his father, an element that is never adequately dealt with or resolved. With such an immediate strike against the "hero" of the movie, it is hard to feel complete sympathy with his struggles. It is true he is out of balance, and the whole agon of the story is to return the world to Balance, but such a primal taboo is difficult to get over and forgive. (I can almost see it as Goro striking down his own father Hiyao in an attempt to establish his own identity.) The relationship between Arren and Therru, the dragon/girl, while making good cinematic sense, seems tacked on and unlikely to someone who has read the books. The plot, rather than being driven by decisions by the characters, becomes a muddle of captures, escapes, and rescues until the final showdown. Another drawback I came to the film with was, strangely, a familiarity with the productions of Studio Ghibli itself. Time and time again I came across some character design or image trope that echoed earlier films, especially the popular and critically acclaimed Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke. While I have no doubt that many of these were developed by Goro himself while working with Hiyao, it does not bode well that they evoke so strongly a Studio Ghibli "style"; the last thing we need is another petrification of an original and imaginative vision. And I have two personal nitpicks that say more about the people who adapted the movie into English than the original crew. One is the pronunciation of "Archmage" with the ch as in "church"; it just sounds better and less mushy if pronounced as k as in "archangel". And the use of Cheech Marin as the voice of Hare the slaver and toady is just odd: he seems to again be doing his best hyena from The Lion King. But all of this is, of course, personal baggage that I bring myself to the viewing of Tales From Earthsea. I am, oddly, in precisely the reverse dilemma I had with Miyazaki's Howl's Moving Castle; whereas there I saw the movie first and then found it hard to judge the book, here I've read the books first and find it hard to judge the film. I can see it is beautiful, I can even intellectually understand how it hangs together thematically; but there is a glass wall between it and my heart that keeps me from surrendering.

Professor Branestawm: Quotation

"I never used to think I was as clever as I thought I was, but now I see I'm much cleverer than I dared to hope I might be." --Professor Branestawm, after inventing a liquid that brings photographs to life.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

More Of The Many Faces Of Bilbo Baggins

Since my last post on "The Many Faces of Bilbo Baggins," the part of Bilbo has been cast for Peter Jackson's two upcoming movies based on The Hobbit. The crucial part has at last gone to Martin Freeman, best known to me previously for his role as Arthur Dent in the movie The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. As satisfied as I was with his work in that film, I was not totally convinced about Freeman until I saw an interview that he and all the actors cast as Thorin and Company gave in New Zealand. When I saw him out of other context and simply in himself, I caught a glimpse of his potential as Baggins.

Part of this potential is his comic English diffidence, the sense of self-worth tempered by humility that tries not to be "uppity," and then feels chagrin when that is taken at face worth. The greatest danger in making The Hobbit is, perhaps, the temptation to make Bilbo into an action hero. He is a hero, of course, but his heroism is a different kind of courage, and he only wields Sting defensively. The story of The Hobbit is (besides a Quest) the story of a culture conflict, of the modern sensibility (and Bilbo, with his morning letters, butcher's meat, and handkerchiefs, is to all intents and purposes Modern) with the tenets of a Heroic Age, typified mainly by Thorin. As in any dialectic, the two viewpoints meet, clash, and change each other. Bilbo's virtues are mercy, pity, non-possessiveness and (when in a pinch) the courage to face horror with hope. These will take a steady hand to translate into film.

So, the pictures are, in order: 1) Martin Freeman; 2) Bilbo reading Tolkien's manuscript, looking rather like Leo McKern, a picture by Tony de Terlizzi of Spiderwick fame; 3) Bilbo and Gandalf by Iain McCaig; and 4) Bilbo and Gandalf by Ted Naismith.

Crazy Hope: Favorite Quotations

"The human animal is a beast that eventually has to die. If he's got money, he buys, and he buys, and he buys. The reason he buys everything that he can is because of some crazy hope that one of the things he buys will be life everlasting."



--Burl Ives as Big Daddy in Tennessee Williams' Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.

Among The Ashes Of The Dustbins Of Your Mind

I recently cleaned out my storage (one of the reasons my posts have been so scanty on the ground) and came across a few interesting educational relics. These scans are from a workbook called From Sounds To Words, from a workbook of the SRA Aqua Unit, and from Highlights, the monthly book for children. Everybody of a certain age remembers Goofus and Gallant, but how many recall The Timbertoes, by John Gee?