A Curious Statistical Anomaly

Student Life has an article on The Top 10 Kids Movies Inappropriate for Kids. On this list are some of my favorite movies. There are ones that my son and I enjoyed together and watched many time.

While I can understand the reasoning behind thinking some of the films such as Time Bandits, Coraline (thought I haven’t seen it yet so only know it because I’ve read the book and seen trailers), Watership Down, and Black Hole being thought inappropriate, I think that’s more because adults hold them up to a different criteria than children or young adults. Children, in my experience, only enjoy the adventure of Time Bandits and the fact that the parents are jerks and get what they deserved. While adults worry about the death of the parents, the kids are hoping that the fireman that looks like Agamemnon will adopt the kid.

On the other hand, Black Hole was so boring I think that it was torture to watch it the first time and only time we saw it. It was forever known in our house as the movie that explained that time stretches out because they certainly took too little plot and stretched it to fit the length of a movie.

What I think lists like these do, is make parents aware that maybe they should watch the movie first and then decide if their children should see them. I feel that parents should always watch the movies with their children so that they are available to answer questions and talk about the film after … if the child wants to talk. Too many times, the DVD is inserted and the parents go off and leave the kids to view with no supervision.

Children like creepy movies and they like to be scared. They usually have a strong sense of justice and like to see the “bad people” punished and the “good people” rewarded. But parents should be available to talk with their children. Movies are a time for parents and children to enjoy time together on the same activity.

Don’t let lists tell you what your children should or shouldn’t watch. The list-makers do their best to advise but they don’t know your specific children, you’re the best judge of what your child is ready for. I know some adults not ready for The Dark Crystal and some very young children who totally get what it’s about.

For Christmas, I got a Kindle. Well, if you’ve been keeping an eye on the Kindle newsbits, I had a Kindle ordered for me for Christmas with a delivery date in March. Waiting has been difficult and still is.

Then, my hubby got the word from Amazon that the Kindle I’d be receiving would be the Kindle 2 rather than the original Kindle he ordered. I thought about it and looked again at the Kindle 2 features and now I’m all kinds of excited by this news. At first, I wanted to stay with the original because I liked the keyboard better and the sliding bar rather than the new keyboard and joy-stick key. But when I look at all the other upgrades and features, I find that they far outweigh the joy-stick and keyboard. So, I’m psyched again to get it.

I essentially read for a living. Well, I review books and that involves a lot of reading. With the downward spiral of the economy, many publishers are having to cut somewhere to save money and keep the books coming. That means fewer advanced reading copies (ARCs) and several publishers have already contacted me about PDFs. If they send PDFs as ARCs there’s no printing costs. However, many people don’t like reading on screen. I’d asked for the Kindle for Christmas because I could see the changes coming and I didn’t want to be chained to my laptop or desktop to read — not that my desk chair isn’t comfy but I like to curl up in my chair-and-a-half and read with a cuppa tea or sit on the deck or in the garden. Now I can — or I can when I get my Kindle.

The new Kindle 2 has a read aloud feature. I reported here about Text Aloud, a program that reads PDFs and text files to you in a sort of Stephen Hawking’s voice. Well, the new Kindle 2 has a similar feature. It seems that some people (the Author’s Guild) object. I found two articles on this today: BLORGE’s Kindle 2 prompts “reading Aloud” copyright claim and The Wall Street Journal’s New Kindle Audio Feature Causes a Stir. I can’t believe that anyone would take this claim seriously. It’s not like the book is being copied, and hearing it read by a computer synthesized voice is nowhere near the same as listening to an audio version of the book. It’s not like if I have a choice I’d pick the computer synth-voice over the acting and emoting human voice.

What’s next suing parents for reading to their children before bed. What about reading a bit of an article or a few paragraphs to your partner or friend or coworker in the next cubicle — violation of copyright. I’m also a struggling writer and I have a lot of interest in seeing that intellectual property and copyright are upheld but this argument is totally ridiculous and seems more for getting publicity and making themselves look foolish rather than being a real concern for their members. Obviously they haven’t learned from RIAA’s and MPAA’s mistakes — the more you cry wolf and demonize your users/readers/buyers the less respect you get (though in the case of those two their bottom lines prove them wrong in their basic assumptions — but that is another whole copyright rant…) Deep breath, relax…

I’m anxiously waiting for the message that says my Kindle has been shipped. Once I get it and use it a bit, I’ll probably have a bit more to say about it. Meanwhile, I’m counting the days…

Last week New Scientist had an article on How Novels Help Drive Social Evolution. The article reports on a study by Jonathan Gottschall and co-author Joseph Carroll at the University of Missouri, St Louis, about how “Darwin’s theories of evolution apply to literature” (I’m not putting in a link to the study since you have to pay to view it). Gottschall and Carroll with John Johnson, an evolutionary psychologist at Pennsylvania State University in DuBois, asked 500 people to fill in a questionnaire about 200 classic Victorian novels. The believe:

Boehm and Carroll believe novels have the same effect as the cautionary tales told in older societies. “Just as hunter-gatherers talk of cheating and bullying as a way of staying keyed to the goal that the bad guys must not win, novels key us to the same issues,” says Boehm. “They have a function that continues to contribute to the quality and structure of group life.”

“Maybe storytelling – from TV to folk tales – actually serves some specific evolutionary function,” says Gottschall. “They’re not just by-products of evolutionary adaptation.”

This reminded me that back in March of 2006, I’d reviewed A Short History of Myth by Karen Armstrong. The premise was that people need stories or myths as much as they needed food and water (my words not hers). Basically, people have always told stories. We gathered round the fire and told of hunts, of battles, of the gods, of how good got rewarded and bad was punished. If you haven’t read this work, you really should.  It doesn’t retell the fairy stories or legends, it helps to place them in perspective according to their appearance along the time line of human social evolution.

In stories we pass on information from the older to the younger generation. Stories allow us to learn from our past and plan for our future. Children play to prepare them for the roles they will take on in life. In early days, they played at the hunt, imitating what they’d heard in the stories from their elders, the hunters of the tribe. They took in these lessons, tips, and warnings and as they grew they internalized these stories and used them in their lives. They observed the life around them and developed stories to make sense of what they saw.

Stories are essential to human culture. From stories we learn how to act. We learn about what is right and wrong and sometimes we learn that what seems right or wrong is actually the opposite. We learn to beware Greeks bearing gifts. Many of the sayings we use daily conversation are based in stories from our past.

We’ve mostly moved from a mostly oral to a mostly written tradition as few people are drawn to the position of Bard or Storyteller. At one time they brought news from one community to another and passed on the accumulated knowledge they’d learned in their travels in the form of  stories. Beyond that, our lives are but stories for the next generations, which I feel Shakespeare touched on when he wrote:

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,

While you can still occasionally find storytellers, we mostly read books. The Bards/Storyteller of our time are authors — those whose fiction fulfills our need for stories. From books I learned much of what I know of life in different social classes than the one in which I was born, or life in other cultures, or other planets. I learned the manners and modes of behavior; how to survive outside my comfort zone of what I know. I also learned that these people, no matter which century they lived in, had the same fears, desires, wishes, dreams and hopes that I do. I learned that I was not alone. I learned that others had gone before me and that I could learn from their successes and their mistakes.

Stories are cautionary, informative, educational, and entertaining. Yes, “storytelling – from TV to folk tales – actually serves some specific evolutionary function” and any avid reader could have told these researchers about the importance of stories in our lives. However, it’s nice to have our beliefs ratified by science.

Today, I got sent a link to a YouTube video with just the phrase “you got to listen to this”. I did. First, it’s a song that I really, really like and it means a lot to me. Second, I found the Bill Moyer’s interview with Mark Johnson who has spent years getting this project, Playing for Change, together, planned, recorded, and working.

There are so many phrases and saying about music. We use them all the time:

“They’re playing out song.” — just about everyone I’ve met and talked with.
“Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.” ~ William Congreve
“All deep things are song. It seems somehow the very central essence of us, song; as if all the rest were but wrappages and hulls!” ~Thomas Carlyle
“Music is what feelings sound like.” ~Author Unknown
“Music is the shorthand of emotion.” ~Leo Tolstoy
“When people hear good music, it makes them homesick for something they never had, and never will have.” ~ Edgar Watson Howe

I’m sure you get the idea that whether we think of it or not, music is a part of all of us. Music is everywhere in every culture — jazz, rock, chants, classical, R&B, blues, whatever. It’s part of the fabric of movies and TV shows — the music in films plays with our emotions and when well done, we never even notice.

Music has the power to lift us up or to bring us to tears. Reading about the Playing for Change project, I began to think that music could also be the glue that could pull the world’s people together. We share music. We share songs. The music speaks to us no matter who we are or where we come from — a song played in New Orleans, New York, Amsterdam, South Africa — it speaks to the people who hear it. We may differ in culture, economic status, education, and beliefs, but a song may still speak to our hearts equally. Maybe music will help to bring us together — to look at our commonalities and not our differences so that we can achieve peace.

What can I say, I’m a liberal/romantic/optimist. I have hope and I listen to the music.

I remember that I first saw George Carlin on The Mike Douglas Show. I loved his strange views of what should be totally mundane. Later, I learned he was a stand up comedian and had stood up against censorship with 7 little words you can’t say on TV.

Today, I opened CNN.com and saw that he’d died of heart problems. How could anyone with a heart that big die? His humor, though often ribald and on the edge, was never cruel. It often raised more questions after the laughter died away. He was a social commentator. Most comedians, at least to my mind the ones that have lasting power, are not just telling jokes but making observations on society and humanity. Carlin saw the absurd in our society and brought it out into the light so we could all take a look at it. He fought constantly against censorship and held a mirror up to us so we could see ourselves from the outside. He looked at relationships, cats, broadcasting, trends, fashion, just about everything — with a sharp wit, light mockery, and humor.

The world will go on. Silliness will be prevalent in society. He will be missed and I, for one, will miss his humorous take on daily life here on planet Earth.

Today I was reading Amazon Daily and found a link to an article by Luc Sante, “The Book Collection That Devoured My Life” in the Wall Street Journal. I read through the article and I laughed and I commiserated and I thought, “Here is a kindred spirit.” Here’s two quotes that give a flavor of what I mean:

There’s nothing inert about these shelves, no men’s-club-library or college-chapel somnolence here — it’s a hive of activity, abuzz with rhythms and images and ideas. As for time: I shelve literature chronologically. It’s the way I think, a landscape of hills and ridges and switchbacks marked off by dates, like a cartoon by Saul Steinberg, here rendered almost literal, so that I can see as well as feel the 19th century turning into the 20th, the prewar cascading into the postwar, the spines gradually becoming brighter as the present day approaches.

Over the years I’ve gotten used to the inevitable questions about my accumulation of books. No, I haven’t read all of them, nor do I intend to — in some cases that’s not the point. No, I’m not a lawyer (a question usually asked by couriers, back in the days of couriers). I do have a few hundred books that I reread or consult fairly regularly, and I have a lot of books pertaining to whatever current or future projects I have on the fire, and I have many, many books speculatively pointing toward some project that is still barely a gleam in my eye. I have a lot of books that I need for reference, especially now that I live 40 minutes away from the nearest really solid library. I have some books that exist in the same capacity as the more recondite tools in the chest of a good carpenter — you may not need it more than once in 20 years, but it’s awfully nice to have it there when you do. Primarily, though, books function as a kind of external hard drive for my mind — my brain isn’t big enough to do all the things it wants or needs to do without help.

That’s pretty much our library here in the woods. The closest library is simply a pick up for books requested and the next nearest is 40 or 50 minutes away (sometimes longer depending on traffic). We used to use the library a lot wherever we lived. But even then we bought a lot of books. Even working with SFRevu, Gumshoe Review, and TechRevu, I still buy a lot of books. The three zines don’t cover some of the subjects that I’m extremely interested in: knitting, spinning, fiber related material, textile history, pattern collections, Jane Austen follow-ons, historical romances, psychology (scientific and layperson), and many other things that set my mind on a quest for knowledge or entertainment.

When my husband and I first moved in together, we jokingly told friends that we could never break up because we’d consolidated our libraries. When we married, we said the same thing. People seemed to accept that it was serious because of the books; but then they were also book people.

When we moved to Maryland the first time, a pizza delivery guy looked at the bookshelves spread along every wall and even creating one wall in our tiny apartment and commented that he hadn’t realized this apartment complex had a library. At that time we only had about 3-4,000 books. Every move, we’ve paired down the other household items and with great reluctance gave away unwanted books. Yet, every time we had more and more book boxes to move.

A couple of years ago, we entered all our books into a cataloging program and found quite a few duplicates and books we forgot we’d bought. At that time we had close to 7,000 books in our library. Now that the zines shipping address is my home and we need to store the books for review here before mailing out to the reviewers, we needed more space.

Paul and I have spent some time each month going through our collection and culling those that we think we can do without. Usually, a couple of hours nets us 3-4 books pulled out for sale. The problem is that we pick a shelf and start to go over the books and we reminisce about the book in our hand: when we read it, what was happening in our life at the time, what it meant to us, and so on. It’s hard to give up a friend. The easiest books to cull are the ones we read because everyone else was, and it wasn’t our taste anyway, but we didn’t want to talk about it without reading it first. Also, the reference books that are outdated and we have another recent copy anyway. And books by authors that were trendy, the story was good but we won’t reread it.

The books we’re saving are the ones with too many memories attached to let go right now. The books that changed our lives when we read them, because they spoke to something deep inside. I have two shelves of books that I call my comfort shelf. These books are the ones that I reread. Usually, I reread them when I’m feeling really crappy and I need some good wholesome stories of people doing the right thing because it’s the right thing. The characters get hurt, frightened, and scared but they keep going because they know that is what needs to be done. It perks me up when there aren’t enough spoons in the state to get me moving or keep me moving for the day. I’ve read them so often that I know them nearly by heart. Those authors (Steve Miller, Sharon Lee, Lois McMaster Bujold, Jane Austen, Jim Butcher, and Charles deLint) have kept me going through some pretty dark times. But isn’t that what books are for?

I remember as a child, growing up in a very small town in Maine, books were a window to a world that I thought I’d never see in any other way. TV didn’t come into our home until my early teens and by then I was an avid reader — reading before I got to school. I’ve found that books can supply comfort, advice, knowledge, guides to learning new skills, excitement, adventure, and much more. A library is a way to have the world at your finger tips. Whenever, I want to learn something new my first impulse is to find a book about it.

We may never pare down our library to be a “reasonable” size. I don’t know how to let go of these friends who have shared my life. They may be just paper and print, but nevertheless, books have been there for me whenever I needed them. There are so many good memories of the ones I’ve read. And so many possibilities in the shelves of the ones I have yet to read. So meanwhile, we’ll cull the ones that haven’t managed to touch our hearts or fill that space where the books that might be useful references someday get stored. (I doubt I’m the only person that goes to the reference shelf to look up one thing and next thing I know it’s hours later and I can’t even guess how I got from the subject I was looking for to where I was when I realized my butt is numb from sitting on the floor.)

How big is your library? And, how do you keep it under control? How do you store it?

We just finished watching all three of the extended movies that make up Lord of the Rings (Directed by Peter Jackson). Understand, we didn’t do a marathon — we watched about half a movie a night and finished tonight. It’s a way to unwind. However, every time I watch, my husband (Hyperion: Poor, poor, pitiful, me!) ends up listening to me rant about how Frodo never would have made it without Sam and he doesn’t get enough credit — so I thought I’d share my pain here.

There’s a bit in movie two when Sam and Frodo are talking about about whether stories will ever be told about their adventure, and if Frodo will become a legend in hobbit history. During the talk, Frodo says, “What about Sam? Frodo wouldn’t have made it very far without Sam?” But, when I read the books as a teenager, I realized that Sam was just as much a hero as Frodo, if not more. Yes, Frodo carried the ring and had the weight of it, and the push of the evil on his shoulders for the whole journey. But it was Sam who kept him going. Sam who gave Frodo the help he needed to keep on track with the quest. He fed him. He watched out for him. He gave him hope and laughter when there was none to be had in what was going on around them. That doesn’t take away from Frodo’s efforts to complete the task set for him — to get to Mordor and destroy the ring. But Frodo couldn’t have done it without Sam.

At the end, if Gollum hadn’t shown up, it would have been Sam who would have had to force the destruction of the ring in spite of Frodo. Sam is the anchor to all that is right and worth saving in Middle Earth. No paragon of virtue, but a good person doing the best he can in bad circumstances. He deserves some credit for his part in the adventure as do Merry and Pippin. They each in their own way advanced the cause to save Middle Earth from darkness.

Jackson gives testimony to this by having the newly crowned Aragorn bow before the Hobbits. He also later (in the books) makes the Shire a protected area to help keep the Hobbits safe from human meddling. But as the Eye disintegrates in the final fall of Sauron, it’s Frodo’s name on everyone’s lips. In my youth, it was “Frodo Lives” on all the buttons, banners, and what not celebrating the books. But what about Sam?

To my mind, Sam is the everyman of the piece. He’s the guy that just does what needs to be done without thinking about glory or duty or any of that. He’s the electrician that goes out in the middle of storms to restore power — because it’s his job and it needs to be done (he in the generic form that includes women). He’s the one that stops to help when you have a flat on the side of the road and can’t find your jack and/or your spare is flat. The person who goes to the gas station and gets you gas when you run out. The person who is there with a helping hand when they could just as easily drive by and go on with their own life.

Sam is the person, we see every day in our lives who goes that extra mile and never asks for anything in return. So, why don’t more people recognize the heroism of Sam, Merry, and Pippin. The ones who are caught up and just do the best they can for what is right in spite of being small and overlooked.

I’m sure if you think about it there have been some Sams in your life. Maybe you are or have been a Sam. Maybe if we were all Sam more often the world wouldn’t be in the mess it is. So, lets have a cheer for Sam. Frodo never could have done it without Sam.

Finally got a copy of Sense & Sensibility from Netflix. This is the Jane Asten movie that we missed during public televisions The Complete Jane Austen series. Directed by John Alexander and starring Hattie Morahan, Charity Wakefield, Dan Stevens, Janet McTeer, Mark Williams and others. The screen play was by Andrew Davies who did most of the other movies featured during the series.

This is a lovely and lush film. There are some scenes that don’t exist in the book but are hinted at in the backstory or off the pages. However, I read the book so long ago now that I’m going to have to go back and reread the original story. I’ve now seen three movie versions of the film (including this one) and while the central story remains that of Elinor and Marianne some of the details change depending on the film. In fact, one film eliminated Margaret from the film entirely. While Margaret may have a small part to play, she is essential as a younger sister being taught the code of conduct that the older sisters have or should have already internalized.

This film has focused more on the differences between the family’s life at Norland and their new life in the cottage in Devonshire. There is a lot of use of the sea and the landscape in Devonshire to highlight the isolation of the Dashwoods from the life that they once had. From being women of leisure, they now live in a cottage with only two servants and must do much of the menial tasks themselves. They are learning but it’s difficult for them as they must learn to economize and yet still maintain their manners and style of living to associate with Sir John and his family and neighbors.

There’s obviously a bond between the sisters but where Elinor controls her feelings, Marianne allows her feelings free range. In fact, Marianne at times seems to glory more in showing her feeling to the world than in feeling them herself. Elinor holds her feeling close to herself as treasures, while Marianne paints them on a marquee. In a society where appearance and surface adherence to propriety is more important than the actual propriety, it is dangerous to allow oneself to show what is felt. Elinor’s mask of calm protects her from censure or ridicule but Marianne has no such protection as she hides nothing of what she feels.

Because of their character they each come close to loosing what they love. Davies may have changed, added, deleted, or emphasized some of the books scenes but he’s nevertheless maintained the heart and soul of the story. We feel for these people and because of the writing and the directing we get a feel for the rigid society in which they lived.

It’s almost impossible for those of us who have grown up in today’s vastly different society where women do have rights and can inherit or work at employment of their own choosing to understand the much narrower choices available to women of the Dashwood’s level of society. Remembering too that much of their problems came from their father’s son refusing to honor the promise he made to take care of them. Much of the movie revolves around promises made, promises kept, and promises left unfulfilled. Then, as now, a person isn’t honorable because of their place in society, the amount of money or status that they have, but because of their actions.

All in all, the film was an excellent rendition of the the novel (as I remember it). Now, I have to slip the book into my reading stack so that I can refresh my mind on the details.