Meet the Books! - Turning the Century

 Well, it's been a good while since the last Meet the Books!, and I've got two new projects (sort-of) since then, so let's get cracking. This one, previously known by the titles Divided and The World That Was, is coauthored with the Grim Writer, whose blog is here. I will mostly focus on my side of the story, as I know it better. (Perhaps Grim will grace us with her own Meet the Books! post to better introduce her side of the story...? EDIT: Grim's splendid supplementary post is here. Definitely go read it - it will make a bit more sense out of things.)

I really must redo this graphic at some point. It is so very pathetic...

What is the title?

The present title is Turning the Century, but it has been known by the above titles before now.

What is the genre? Time period?

Okay... Um. So we might have sort-of invented a genre...? I guess we'll call it a Fantasy. That works, right? It's a strange sort of Fantasy, though. It's strange because of the time period. You see, the book's world is divided into two halves, in two different period-inspired times. The first half is based on the 1920s, and the second half is based on the 1890s, I believe. 

How is it written (POV, format, etc.)?

We've gone with third person for this, mostly limited. We have stylistically strayed from limited a couple times, though, I think. We're going with a traditional novel format for the most part. Now, the one difference is that, since there are two authors, there is sort of a split of which characters/places are written by whom. In general, scenes in Bellafossa or from my characters' POVs are written by myself, and scenes in Bricklebury or from Grim's characters' POVs are written by Grim. 

What is the setting?

The setting is twofold. The first setting you see is Bellafossa, a rich, decadent, dissipated city loosely based off of Italian and 1920s culture. The second setting introduced is Bricklebury, an impoverished and war-torn fantasy village held together by a few influential patrons, inspired by Britain in the 1890s. 

Who are the characters?

In Bellafossa...

Gianni Verreni is a rich, young gentleman in Bellafossa. He is absent-minded, quiet, heartily lost in the world he lives in, old-fashioned, and perhaps a bit curmudgeonly. He is my main character and POV. He is quite fond of his younger sister,

Fioria Verreni, called Fio. She is a high socialite with spirits as bubbly as champagne and a character to match. She is quite independent, and she enjoys her riches and freedom. She's never worked a day in her life nor had to do anything harder than convince Gianni to take her places. She is Grim's main character and POV.

The suitors are a gang of high-society fellows, mostly working for Vin (explained in a moment), and all quite enamored of Fio. Those particularly worth mentioning are Addio, a fashionable sulker, one of Vin's right hand men, and the one most struck by Fio; Gerry, a fun-loving smooth talker who never misses a party or a trick, also one of Vin's boys.

Flavio Vitale is one of Gianni's best friends, but also a frivolous and somewhat nervous fellow, with good reason; he is very dangerously in debt to Vin and his boys. 

Iago Potenza is Gianni's other best friend. As he tells it, he witnessed his father, mother, and uncle, and his second cousin being shot when he was a boy. He is now an existentialist artist who believe the world is an abyss of suffering, and his only particularly real mission in life is to remove Vin's operation from power. He is always trying to do this, with the help of Gianni and Flavio. 

Vincente Vespa, commonly known as Vin, is a very rich, influential man about town who pulls most of the strings around Bellafossa. Nearly every chap from the old, rich families works for him, and he hosts much of high society at his nephew's ritzy place, the Rubino. It is well-known that he does things under the table and gets his power the hard way, but nobody can prove it. Vin and his boys - those who are admitted to his special circle - are the center of Bellafossa's society, regardless of anybody else's feelings about it. 

In Bricklebury...

Bernard Chester, later to be dubbed "Bob" by Fio for no particular reason, is one of the only pillars left holding Bricklebury up. He comes from an old, noble, wealthy family there, but doesn't have much wealth left, unless compared to the rest of the town. He is Grim's other MC. 

Anne Chester, known as Nancy, is Bernard's cousin. She is also one of my other MCs. She has mysteriously disappeared from Bricklebury when Fio arrives, and nobody but Bob and his confidantes seem to know anything about it...

Saoirse is Miss Nancy's maid, whom Fio renames Wyo because she can't spell Saoirse. 

Lady Macready is one of the strangest old women Fio has ever met (and, yes, her name rhymes). She lives in a house that has feet, apparently her dog is her long-enchanted husband, and she knows about secret things around Bricklebury. She is one of the only people helping Bob to keep the town afloat. 

Odysseus Wilde is a long-gone inventor and relative of Bob and Nancy. Rumored to be either quite crazy or a genius, bits and pieces of his various projects litter the Chester mansion. He hasn't been heard of since the War. Nobody is really sure what happened to him.

What does the plot consist of?

The plot begins with Fio and Gianni living it up in the Bellafossa half, a world that vaguely remembers the word "war," but has no idea what it means. They are comfortable and have their own private dramas until a hungover Fio messes with something she shouldn't and lands herself in the Bricklebury's world, a place where a great war still leaves its long shadow, impoverishing and dividing the land. Bricklebury has a grave problem with malign fantastical creatures. (Heh. Grave. Methinks I made a pun for you, Grim...) This leads some from Bricklebury to propose a great plan to try and reach the other side of the world using haphazard inventions from a lost lunatic. On Bellafossa's side, there is a serious gangster problem. Vin pretty much owns the city, and he has no intention of letting the threesome who oppose him go. Gianni increasingly gets in hot water when he starts a fight with one of Vin's boys on account of Fio's disappearance, and he is very soon on the run with a mysterious stranger who seems to know what happened to Fio...

(Anyhow, I described it really badly, but it should be a pretty fun story. Hopefully Grim will do a Meet the Books! for it as well so you can get some better synopses.)

What gave you the idea?

Eh.... *searching back into the abyss of brainstorming from years ago* I think we vaguely based the idea on some fairy tale awhile back. You know, the one where the girl falls down a well and discovers another world? Well, in the original draft of this story, Fio did fall down a well, but we changed the means of transportation to an old, crashed plane. I would give credit where credit is due with ideas and all that, but it's been so long, I really can't remember who came up with what. As for the time period overhaul, I suggested it to be funny, but Grim liked it and really fleshed it out (thanks for that!), so here we are. 

Who are the favorite characters so far?

Well, nobody's really read the whole thing, but I think Fio is pretty well-liked by authors and sneak-readers alike. She really was meant to be a flapper - the medieval period was really cramping her style. 

What is the favorite scene so far?

Again, nobody's really read it in earnest, so there isn't one yet.

Any drawings? Aesthetics?

I don't have any drawings, but I have a couple aesthetics. (Grim has even more, so let's hope she does a post also, at least to show off the aesthetics.) 

Storyboard. My image.

My image.

Any themes of music for the story?

Well, we've actually had to write a song for this story. Don't ask why... It's kind of complicated. Anyhow, though, we do have an original song for the story. It... does not have a name yet. We also have a playlist for writing it too, here. (Hopefully it's accessible... I can't tell). 

Any snippets?

Here goes...

***

“Back-step, kick-step, kick-kick-kick-back…?” Two feet crashed through the stained glass window, each belonging to a different person.

Gianni lifted his foot out of the conservatory window pane gingerly. “Don’t tell me that was what’s supposed to happen.”

“No, no, no!” Fio tossed her head back and laughed. “You can’t just keep kicking 

backwards. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Don’t forget, you did it too.”

“I was just following you.” She lifted her foot out of the window pane.

Gianni frowned at the broken window thoughtfully. “I think that’s the first time the conservatory window’s been broken since I hit a baseball into it when I was ten.”

Fio grinned. “Well, then, it’s about time, honey. It was in need of some excitement.”

***

It was swinging at the Rubino that night. If Fio hadn’t been thoroughly used to it, she might’ve felt a bit blinded walking in, the room glittering with champagne and diamonds. Just past the bar area, the open silver floor was barely visible through the many dancers. Every one of Vincente Vespa’s boys was there every night, and every rich doll, and just everybody who was anybody. Nobodies simply didn’t come to the Rubino. And judging from the atmosphere, it was going to be a killer diller night for everybody that did. Fio fluffed up the feathers on her dress excitedly. 

“Oh,” said Gianni dubiously, glancing around as they entered the floor. 

“What do you mean, ‘oh,’ you old grump?”

“The entire string of victims is here.”

***

Strangely, though the squirrels had quieted and the only birds singing were doves, as Fio kept walking, she had the distinctly unpleasant notion that she was not alone. Somebody was watching her.

“I’m just crazy with hangover and worry,” she said to herself, with a nervous laugh. But she started walking a little faster all the same.

There was the ravine ahead of her—but where was the path down? She walked to the edge and paced up and down a moment, trying to determine where the path had gone—but it seemed that years of weather had worn down the earth and rendered the cliff too steep to be traversed. 

“What a bummer,” she said aloud, pouting her lower lip in an attempt at humor, but in reality, she was close to tears. It was very silly of her to see that ravine and that old plane as the key to fixing her relationship with Gianni, no doubt, but she’d almost begun to believe her little daydream in her short time walking. She walked back the way she had come a bit, and stood peering over the ledge, trying to make out the details of the plane’s dark form on the bottom of the ravine. It was covered in leaves from all the autumns since she and Gianni had last visited it and brushed it off, but it was still there.

***

Gianni and Fio’s father had successfully got the machine to start when they had first found it. However, as he was not a pilot, and it was so old, he had determined he would never attempt to fly it, nor sell it, nor give it away. The children love playing on it, so there it shall stay, he had said. 

But that didn’t mean Fio couldn’t give it a go. With difficulty she managed to get herself into the seat, despite the years of forest debris within it. 

The key was in the engine—but when she reached for it something clinked to the floor of the cockpit. She reached down with a grunt—another key? Yes, a silvery one, with an odd shape, and a tiny face etched into the key’s end. There was a half-rotted string loop that had attached it to the other key until it had broken at her touch. 

Fio frowned, and, slinging her purse tighter over her shoulder, she stuffed the key into it and zipped it closed. 

Then she turned the other key in the engine.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

But the engine roared to life, and as she pressed her high heel against the accelerator, unbelievably, the plane began to move, crackling slowly through dry leaves, picking up speed—and then time seemed to freeze for her. 

Would it take off?

In that frozen moment, she smelt something peculiar—something marvelous—something far more pleasant than antique engine oil.

She didn’t have time to determine what it was before the plane took off—and she was rising up—up—through the trees, into that lovely sleek blue of the sky. 

Fio couldn’t help but whoop with delight at the sheer adrenaline high it gave her—

And then the engine stalled—and stopped.

With a bloodcurdling shriek, Fioria Verreni and her antique airplane plummeted to the earth. 

***

And, appropriately, I think, I'll leave you there at the end of my part of things...

Strong point in the story?

Well, the strongest point right now is probably Grim's energy for it, haha... But on a more serious note, I think we've been okay about making the fantasy and storyline and such fairly creative and not too reliant on any stereotypes. 

Weak point in the story?

Eh, my part, haha... In the original draft, my part was a little boring. My people just traveled around looking for something and never finding it. I think my part might still be a little boring unless I figure out another plotline to set up in it. 

What are your plans for it?

That is a good question... Unfortunately, I have no answer. Other than finishing it at our leisurely pace, I don't think we really have a plan. 

Any particular writing habits for it?

Not particularly, but it seems an almost universally true rule that if we both get on there to write, very little writing gets done... 

If it were made into a movie, what would be your ideal cast for it?

Okay... So, I spent way too much time trying to think of some good castings, but, really, just look at the face claims on the aesthetics. I think those are pretty good. (Grim has more face claims as well...)

Well, this post is ridiculously long, so I will end it without further ado. Have a good weekend, all!

AABB, Part Two: Belle

Not so long ago, I posted that I would be attempting a moral defense of Disney's Beauty and the Beast; this shall be the first real chapter. And, fittingly enough, as the story begins with a prologue and then with Belle herself, so will I.

Belle is an interesting character... and a controversial one. Because there are so many interpretations of both her and her actions, she ranges from being a characterless bookworm to a self-centered feminist to a paragon of redemption. Well, here goes...

Her Treatment of Others

One of the main things people point out first about Belle is that she seems rather rude and dismissive of other people, especially in the stage version. She calls the villagers "little people," their town "dull" and "provincial," Gaston "boorish, brainless" and "monster," the Beast also "monster" and "fool," and generally has no friends. Not to mention, she seems to regard other people's lives as irrelevant - how they live is of no consequence to her. This is seen not only in her sung insults above, but also in her careless attitude towards the servants and the rules in the Beast's castle. Now, even for all this, you might notice that I still said she only seems rude and dismissive of other people. Well, the truth of it is, she doesn't want to be - this is one of Belle's defining features, in fact.

Belle certainly has a disregard for the rules, but I believe that this is more out of her contrary nature rather than her disbelief in them or a progressive mindset (as some have claimed). Think about it. She only goes to the West Wing because she was told she shouldn't; same for her eating despite his command. And, really, is there another good example of Belle breaking the rules? She doesn't do it often; I would say her breaking of the Beast's rules is more a way of being contrary to the captor she so loathes at the beginning, not a lifestyle. The involvement of the servants is merely an afterthought to Belle - she didn't do it to get them in trouble, nor did she show any sign of even recognizing that possibility.

For Gaston and the Beast's parts, Belle's critique of them is really only an offense when piled upon other things. After all, isn't Gaston boorish and brainless? Does he not treat her with the utmost arrogance and near-monstrous presumption? And does he not even go to the length of attempting to make her miserable to make himself happy, as in the case of imprisoning her father? And what of the Beast? Didn't he also imprison her father, as well as her? Did he not behave himself with every intent of being the monster he seemed? As for his being a fool, this is a mere passing shot of Belle's contrary character - it was rude and uncalled for, but it is yet another part of the arc that she shapes (as I will demonstrate below). 

As for Belle's treatment of other people in the village, her dismissiveness is a clue to her character arc. She calls them things like "provincial" and "little people" in an unintentional ironic sense of humor - she is one of them, but not enough to reap the benefits of being a little person... in that, she is the littlest of them all. In her complaining of the village life, she doesn't realize how much pettier even than them she has become - while they concern themselves with bacon, fish, bread, and the market prices, she has a leg above them and complains about life in general. But it's not meant as an insult.

When Belle complains, her intent, however pettily played out, is that she merely wants something higher than being alone in the village. Her conversation with her father reveals this perhaps more than anything. She asks him if, for her being alone, she is odd, as she hears. He replies that she should not acknowledge the other villagers - their opinions and what they say is quite irrelevant, and she should not care whether she has a friend among them. They are, after all, "the common herd," as he claims, and aren't worth much. Reluctant to accept this truth, Belle vaguely affirms the notion - if I'm not one of them yet, then it must not be worth it to be one of them, she thinks. But we never really get the idea that Belle is crazy about the idea - she accepts it because the only friend she does have says it's so.

What Does Belle Really Want?

This gets to the very root of exactly what Belle desires. She does not shun the traditional life, or other people's company - in fact, this is what she yearns for most. It is, once more, her contrary personality and the influence of her well-meaning but oversighted father that shapes her dismissal of the small world she inhabits. The best look we get of Belle's dreams are when she sings of the beauty she finds in books - not of the traveling life or of great distance from other people, but of prince Charmings and true love, of someone who will be a companion to her, and of the chivalry of old, beauteous devotion. It's not that she rejects the husband-wife-children-life attitude of the villagers, but, rather, she envies them so very greatly because that is what she desires. She doesn't want to be passed off as one more girl marrying a good-looking guy for adventure and thrills (like so many of the women fancying Gaston are), but wants desperately to marry for love, and for someone who will stick by her in life. 

Belle rejects Gaston because she knows that he will not help her. Not only is he openly unfaithful, but he cares much more about what he does outside the home than in - Belle is irrelevant to him except as someone to be there for the rare time when his whim lies with making a legacy for his household. He can't help her discover herself, he can't help her live up to a higher ideal, and he certainly cannot love her, wholeheartedly, giving instead of taking. Life with Gaston would be oh-so lonely for Belle, who already struggles so with her loneliness and stumbling journey.

Because the villagers would look well on Belle even if she married for the adventure of Gaston, Belle believes that they are errant (and, to a certain extent, they absolutely are). She herself only sees the lack of mystery and constancy in such a union, and abhors the thought. 

Even in her petty state of mind, she yearns for a true, profound relationship - one that will give her fulfillment. Belle's desire for the infinite is a desire in us all, isn't it? And even in the beginning, when it is her constant complaint against the town, the integral good of the thing remains - Belle merely wants a lasting thing.

But Does She Actually Change?

It is my belief that Belle does indeed change, and quite drastically. Think about it. In her first scene, she complains of how boring and typical her hometown is. A few scenes later, when she realizes the true tragedy that is out there, with her father being imprisoned by the Beast, she chides herself, singing "and to think I complained of that dull, provincial town!". Even though her ungrateful attitude remains at that point, we see already her change in attitudes towards the village. Then, later, when she wonders at the spell, and when she finally befriends the Beast, we hear her start to show gratitude more (as when she is healing the Beast). Then, finally, before the mob scene, she sings of how wrong she was, how stupid and silly to disregard everyone but herself, and how much, even against her own stubbornness, the Beast has changed her. And to top it all off, her farewell to the Beast as he is dying claims him a better being than herself - one more worthy of love.

By the end, really, we see a much humbler and more grateful Belle - humbled by hardship and mortification, perhaps, but humbled nonetheless. This is actually one of the biggest reasons that my preference strictly script-wise lies with the stage version (while she's ruder in the play's beginning than in the movie's, we don't get either of Belle's character arc songs, "Home" and "Change in Me," in the movie). To hold Belle's beginning character against her after her change is ridiculous, and I think it is not sufficient reason to condemn the story. 

Her ego diminishes as the story goes on, creating, actually, quite a pleasing character arc. In fact, her character arc can be seen as a reflection of the Beast's - just as he is reformed by her, so she is by him. And both have the same problem after all - egotism, stubbornness, and a rebellious temper. But by the end, both are willing to give their own ways up for the other. The story is all about redemption - after all, the only character who never reform in a story are the villains, and Beauty and the Beast is no exception. Gaston and LeFou (both of whom I'll get to later) don't change a bit, except perhaps for the worse, and same for M. D'Arque (the asylum keeper - unnamed in the movie). But Belle changes. The Beast changes. Lumiere, Cogsworth, and most of the rest change (as I'll also get to in a future post). The only people who don't change are those who represent ideal virtue in the story (Mrs. Potts) and those who represent the utmost lack of virtue (I would argue LeFou, but Gaston works as well). In a way, Beauty and the Beast is a title not just labeling the romance of Belle and Prince Adam (the Beast's oft forgotten real name, by the bye), but the two sides of Belle as well, fighting for her until the nobler one wills out. 

In this, I would defend Belle. Your thoughts on her? Do you have anything to add? To object? To suggest for future posts in this series? Please - spare a thought or two, if you have them. 

5 Pro-Family Movies Worth Seeing

Hollywood is not my favorite - nor any traditional Christian's favorite - place today. With the long history of left-leaning politics going back to its beginning (even almost to the point of government intervention at one time - see the Hayes Code), it's never been a sterling place, but, today, it's especially hard to find a film that not only doesn't have some unnatural ulterior agenda, but also has a good one in its place. However - Hollywood has had a couple golden moments in the past concerning this, and I intend to explore them. In the future, I shall do a few more of these posts (for the sake of both the avid movie watcher, and because I have really slacked off on doing any Rebellious Writing posts, which these shall hopefully count for) - I shall list five movies of a certain genre, all within the realm of morality, and I shall summarize and rate them for the convenience of the viewer. As a note, any opinions expressed will always be my own, but all ratings expressed will always be laid upon fact. (Another Note: While most movies I watch are old movies, I shall endeavor to include newer movies within these posts to the best of my ability and knowledge. That being said, some genres will have more newer movies than others. I will try to arrange the posts chronologically to help.) And with that said, I intend to start the feature up with a collection of movies bearing a particular pro-family strain in them.

The Legend of Zorro (2005)

This is the one starring Antonio Banderas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. It is the sequel to the first Banderas Zorro movie, The Mask of Zorro (1998), but I have reasons for not including the first one on the list (among which is the fact that it does not follow the theme of the post, but I shall elaborate in a later post on the first movie's flaws). The story tells of how Zorro, now with his wife and son, struggles with being bored as the father - family life as a whole is not fulfilling enough, and he goes away to be Zorro often, despite his promises to his wife, Elena. All the while, Elena herself struggles with the fact that people need Zorro - after all, doesn't his son need him too? Their son, Juaquin, is unaware of the identity of his father and thinks his father a distant and unmasculine fop - a terrible example, in short. Then all three problems collide when Zorro and Elena separate, only to be pushed back together by a threat to their son and the bandit himself, in the person of Elena's sinister new suitor.

The movie definitely has a pro-family theme, with the mutual support and discipline of one another being the focus, as well as getting over what one wants for oneself. Juaquin wants to be rebellious because he can - he wants to be the man he thinks his father isn't. In the end, he is reprimanded for his rebellion - ironically enough, by the allegedly spineless father himself. Zorro wants to continue to wear the mask, even if it means spending more time on himself and less on family, but the end of the movie sees him willing to give it up for Elena and Juaquin. And finally, Elena wants to end the career of Zorro, having her husband all to herself, but, at the end of the movie, when it is Zorro himself who offers to give up the mask, she hands it back to him, freely giving this aid to the people even against her own will. Divorce, and especially its effect upon children, is viewed with unapologetic harshness in the movie, and traditional gender roles, particularly in the realm of parenthood, are played to be absolutely necessary to the family in the movie. Religious themes (this is Catholic Mexican California, after all) run through the movie as well, and, with a counter-theme to the first movie, declares that following one's heart can only be fulfilling when it is with a steady guide and goal beyond oneself (such as a splendid scene where Zorro kneels to pray to the Madonna for guidance in his mission).

There are a few random words of bad language in it, but, if my count is correct, it totals to about four counts of swearing in the whole movie (two of which are by the villain, and one of which is debatably legitimate use of the Lord's name rather than swearing, but mentionable nonetheless). Other than this, and one small innuendo which is quite subtle (it would completely go over a child's head), it is family-friendly. The costumes are historical, so mostly (aside from the inaccurate cover pic) pretty modest. And, while a rather strong anti-Protestant theme does come through (due to a Baptist-esque villain), the general Christian theme (and the pro-Catholic theme) is quite discernable. 

The Patriot (2000)
This one's a Mel Gibson movie with a quality even beyond the commendable acting and direction. The Patriot tells the story of exactly what it sounds like - a patriot in the Revolutionary War for the American side. What the title doesn't tell is the story of some boys growing up with the aid of their father, and eventually braving even death for their family. Now, I'm no Mel Gibson fan - pretty much this and his direction in The Passion are where I cut off - but his acting in this was absolutely superb. I must say, the overall quality of this movie was ten times the average recent release. The music, the acting, the costumes and sets, the story, and all the characters reflected the time period and the theme to perfection.

As to the theme, more on that... The story tells of a widowed father of seven whose oldest two sons - the younger of which being only around fifteen - wish to join the American Revolution against the British. The father Benjamin Martin, remembers losing his wife and so does not wish to split the family up further. But, eventually, he allows the oldest son to join when their state revolts, staying home with the rest of the family himself. When British invade their estates, though, and kill Martin's second son, it's much harder to remain passive. With this, Martin and his younger two sons (neither older than twelve) are forced to fight their way out of the town to family safety, and Martin afterwards has to bear with vengeful feelings and fear of cowardice over the loss of his son. When the oldest, Gabriel, and his new wife, are also cruelly offended by the British, Martin has to choose to be the patriot his sons were - fighting for freedom and for his family, and not for revenge. Overall, the theme is absolutely beautiful, portraying amazing masculine fatherhood, the beauty of marriage and children, the profundity of fear, and many other wonderful things. (My only note is that the movie contains a couple swear words and is pretty bloody.) The movie would be well summed-up in that wonderful Chesterton quote: "A true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him."

Yours, Mine, and Ours (1968)

Starring Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda, this movie is pure comic genius at its best. The plot concerns a widowed mother of eight and a widowed father of ten meeting and getting together, to the chagrin of both Fate and their wayward children. Throughout the movie's various screwy events, the hilarious craziness (and fun) of large family life is portrayed ingeniously, as well as the point of family. The movie is definitely for teens and adults, but the reason for that is that is speaks very frankly (and sometimes quite satirically) about the real point of family and sexuality - it discusses such topics as birth control, large families, and love and marriage with a perspective quite refreshingly down-to-earth (for instance, when asked whether she really wants another baby, the expectant widow says rhetorically that, if she were to answer that, she would have to answer which child she would rather not have - who would she skip over if she had to do it again?). The only cautions morally are a depiction of a Catholic nun as rather rude (but it is just the one, and not nuns in general) and then, like I said above, very frank and open mentions of more mature topics.

The Thrill of It All! (1963)

This movie stars Doris Day and James Garner. It chronicles the story of a happy housewife being recruited by a soap company for advertising after an accidental pitch to the company's boss (one of her husband's, an obstetrician, patients). At first refusing the gig because she prefers her husband and kids to the idea of a career, she is eventually brought in by flattery and the prospect of a huge salary, despite her husband's dismay at it. When the career begins consuming her life, though, and causing her to see little of her children and nothing of her husband, he starts to get irritated. Eventually, their dual work schedules cause neither of them to ever meet on a daily basis. The movie resolves with the poor housewife having to help deliver the baby of her boss when her husband doesn't come in time, and her realizing that that's all she wants - a baby. She just wants to go back and be a wife, and a mother again. She doesn't care about salary, or fame, or career, or anything - she just wants to do what she did before and loved before.

With a romantic, hilarious, and stunningly pro-life climax, the movie was definitely above-par when it came to a pro-family, having what my best friend calls the "pro-life, pro-wife" combination. The affirmation of traditional gender roles and of the need for mothers was unanimous, from the poor, frazzled housewife's need to see her kids to the rich boss-lady proclaiming that the company couldn't matter less when compared with motherhood. While the movie was definitely more for teens and adults (since the main couple was married, it had a lot more, eh, mushy of romantic scenes) due to both mature romantic scenes and mature jokes, it didn't really contain anything objectionable other than a couple immodest costumes/settings. As a whole, it was a splendid movie both morally and comedically.

Children of Divorce (1927)
This one's a silent movie starring Gary Cooper, Clara Bow, and Esther Ralston. I must confess that my original reason for watching this movie was rather shallow - though the plot sounded good and all, I mostly watched it for the promise of a clean silent movie, safeguarded by the name of Gary Cooper (and... for Coops' acting). However... in the movie, I found a gem. While it was a silent movie, it had considerably better make quality than is generally associated with that genre. It had its own soundtrack (rather than dismal, faint Bach organ music, as many have), had top-notch Golden Hollywood acting (and actors - just wow to both Miss Ralston's and Miss Bow's performances), and the sets were actually quite cinematic and un-stagelike, being larger in proportion and fairly detailed. (I know that many people dislike the cheesy-seeming make of many silent movies, which is why I bring all this up, to the contrary.)

As to the theme of the movie, it was most certainly not comical, like most of the movies on this list up to date. It was a drama, and a smashing good one because, like all good tragedies, it was based on a sad truth of life - the wrecked lives that divorce produces. All three of the main characters, Ted (Cooper), Kitty (Bow), and Jean (Ralston), had had their parents divorced, and all of them grew up practically in confinement because their parents couldn't (or wouldn't) take proper care of them at home. And their separate levels of involvement in divorce developed even further their reactions to it: Ted's father remarried once, to a woman that expected Ted to pretend his real mother didn't exist, and so Ted resolved never to marry unless it was absolutely for keeps; Jean's parents divorced, but neither ever remarried, so she remained a tragic heroine, saddened by the fact, but still morally against divorce and not ruined by that history; Kitty's mother remarried five times and divorced every husband, three of those husbands during Kitty's young childhood, and, due to this, Kitty's views of love were very open, and slightly licentious, and she had no respect for marriage or committal love. The plot concerns what happened when all three of their love lives are thrown together after not seeing each other for years, and when a ruinous marriage between Kitty and Ted (against Ted's will) disrupts their friendship. The ending is actually a twist ending, and, while it was sad, it did resolve the plot pretty well.

The view on divorce and the breaking of the family was viewed with unapologetic harshness in the movie, which was refreshing. (It spoke of it with a bitterness that, to my mind, speaks almost of personal experience in the makers of the movie - and in that day and age, I would not be surprised if divorce had affected many of the makers of the movie.) As a note, though, they did approach the question more from a secular rather than religious angle (meaning, things like "divorce is wrong because it messes up a marriage and hurts the kids," rather than "divorce is wrong because Christ said so in the Bible and because the Church teaches so"); I didn't really mind this, but it's worth noting. Other than that, my only moral cautions on it would be an occasional slightly immodest costume. The moral value of the movie was much greater, and I could easily write a post on this movie alone (and perhaps will at some point).

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That's all I have for the moment, though I would love to add onto the list. Hopefully this feature takes hold! Have you seen any of these movies? Would you? Do you have any favorite family-themed movies?

Good Comedy is Good For the Soul

Earlier this morning, my siblings and I had to proceed to the laborious task of clearing the enormous lump of laundry in need of folding. As is my own habit, we turned on a show to make the work lighter, and we ended up watching old recording of Abbott and Costello on the Colgate Comedy Hour back in the 1930's. Now, I had watched some newer movies not so long before, and the humor was, at best, worth a slight smirk (providing it was clean enough even for that). Abbott and Costello? One minute of them was worth barrels of uncontrollable laughter. The difference between the two was not, as it may seem at surface level, just funnier cracks; the difference was the feeling one had coming away.

With the newer movies, what humor I remembered, I remembered only very vaguely, and it rather stuck like bad peanut butter to the roof of my mouth - a not necessarily unpleasant, but on a whole rather uninspiring sensation, and in places, it brought about a sense of guilt because the humor was rather morally shallow or even quite questionable. With the twosome's routines, I walked away with a lighthearted sort-of gaity in my step, and rather profound (for me, at least) thoughts on my mind, pondering the subjects of some of their witticisms. Why? The answer is in good comedy, and why it is good.
(Pardon all this commentary please, but, before accusations of bias, of course I love Abbott and Costello, however, this is not why I wrote this post - let this post be the reason why I love Abbott and Costello.)

No doubt, all of you have at some point heard, seen, or otherwise witnessed some of the "humor of the modern man," as my father once put it - it is occasionally amusing, but on a whole rather dependent upon the base, noisy, and slapstick (or things less clever and subtle even than slapstick, as often is the case). Most of the humor is either identity humor ("I'm funny because I'm..."), shock humor ("that's funny because it involves that uproarious, surprising, or gross thing") , or put-down humor ("that's funny because it insults someone or something we all generally dislike or disapprove of around here"). It's all based on thinking a thing is funny only because of a certain viewpoint, rather than something that is inevitably and universally true.

Good comedy is not based on the humor of a viewpoint; such humor is political, taking a side in a shallow controversy without appealing to something deeper. Of course, humor in controversy can still be funny, for, as the immortal Catholic writer, G.K. Chesterton, once said, "[Every man] ought himself to be importing humor into every controversy; for unless a man is in part a humorist, he is only in part a man." But Chesterton's comment nowhere implies that humor should be based on debate or prejudice. In fact, he is saying the contrary - that every event and happening, including debate and prejudice, should be met with humor.
(Just as a warning, I shall be quoting dear old Mr. Chesterton a lot in this post, as Mr. Chesterton and I get along quite swimmingly... All quotes are taken from Heretics, I believe.)

Really, truly good comedy is based on two things - the first and foremost of these is basic truths of life. The truth is, life is funny; odd things happen, coincidences happen, and nothing seems to make sense at face value. Thus, if reality is a funny thing, it is no coincidence that humor is based off of a discovery of reality and the truth. Nowhere will anyone claim that the truth always is convenient or sensible-sounding. Oftentimes, it's not, and to our limited human understandings, it seems like the silliest and strangest thing. Thus enters humor. And thus enters the second aspect of humor, almost as important as the first and even more integral in humor's nature: humility.

Humility and humor really do go hand in hand. I mean, really, they even have the same root word. Humor is the manifestation of humility; it is the taking of joy despite and in spite of human flaws. We are imperfect, and that's what's so funny. The moment we take ourselves seriously, that is the moment we sin and become prideful. In taking ourselves seriously, we pretend that we are really worth something on our own, that we are respectable and praise-worthy, and that we really know what we're doing. Well... do we...? No, not usually, at least - we human beings almost never really know what we're doing properly. And most of the time, when we think we know best is when we make our worst and most regrettable decisions. Laughing at ourselves is the quickest way to route pride and grow humility because it admits to us that we really are strange, funny, awkward things, and we have no idea what to do and no power to do it on our own.

Now, this latter point is not to deny the value of human beings or anything like that; sure, we have value. But, really, doesn't it become arrogance when we assume that we have any value independently? Are we not created, finite beings without any power our own, except for free will, which we frequently abuse and never quite seem to understand? And yet, it is the divine nature within us - the flame of eternity that is emblazoned upon our hearts - that encourages us to humor. For, to quote Mr. Chesterton again, "Unless a thing is dignified, it cannot be undignified," and "Joking is undignified; that is why it is so good for one's soul." The heart of comedy is really an endless, round circle; as truth leads to humility, humility leads to truth. Without a basic yearning for truth and the infinite, we cannot realize that we are erroneous and finite. And without truly realizing our mortality, we can never reach for the greater truths beyond it. Humor is a beautiful, if difficult to acquire, virtue that touches the soul and combines two of the greatest goods to encourage man to reach higher and go beyond himself. Without a yearning for those two goods, we are prideful, ignorant beings indeed.

Good comedy touches a man and makes him simultaneous recognize his own lowliness and think of something greater than himself. "For a hearty laugh it is necessary to have touched the heart."

Good comedy is good for the soul.

Fear and Fiction

A couple weeks ago, a friend asked a philosophical question for fun, so another friend and I could try to answer it. The question was "What is fear?" I attempted to answer the question, but my answer was rather pathetic and I was pretty clueless and dissatisfied with it. My other friend took a crack at it, but was also stumped. The event stuck in my mind. For one thing, it was a humbling question because, being philosophically-minded, one of my greatest flaws is a sort-of intellectual pride in being able to answer many such questions. But it was more than that. It was an interesting question - one that I've gotten close to in thought many times, but never actually broached anywhere. It took forever thinking about it to finally find an answer, but my thoughts were of a sort that I wished to share here, as eventually - like in so many topics - they came to writing.

Fear is perhaps an honesty with oneself - a morally neutral sort-of humility. By itself, it means nothing, but, as with many human emotions, the action taken for it gives it meaning.


Fear branches into two paths - cowardice and courage. Courage? Yes, courage; to quote that repetitive old favorite line from Newsies, "courage does not erase our fears; courage is when we face our fears," and it is not courage to have to fear in the first place. You are probably not afraid of PB&Js, but this does not mean that eating one is having courage. You are probably not afraid of swimming, either, which is certainly more dangerous than PB&Js, but this does not mean you are being courageous every time you swim. Courage is only present where fear is.


On the other hand, cowardice is taking one's fears and refusing to have courage; it is allowing one's fear to overpower one's higher motive or goal. This is the contortion of fear, while courage is the completion of it. To be fearful is no wrong; to let those fears go above one's reason is. Courage is keeping one's mind even whilst one's knees quake.


At this point, I have to stop. If these are true, and fear can be completed or contorted - because I am no authority, not marvelously intelligent, and may be completely wrong, no matter what my own mind wishes to think, this is debatable - then fear exists. What does this mean? Well, it means fear must be good. Nothing that exists is evil; evil is always merely a contortion of lack of good things. And if fear is good, this leads me to the writing part after a terribly lengthy introduction...

Why Do We Make Fear Our Enemy?

Think about them - all the stories, particularly recent ones, where fear is the enemy of the tale. Frozen; Rise of the Guardians; the Hotel Transylvania movies, and Harry Potter to a certain extent - all of them make fear the enemy of humankind (or... modified humankind in a few of those characters). Why should fear be the enemy? Why is it so unequivocally condemned in society nowadays?

Well, think about what's boosted in its place. Confidence, acceptance of everything (usually masquerading as 'love,' despite the unloving treatment of characters who are not accepting), and belief in oneself. Overall, the opposites of humility. Why? Because that's what fear is a part of in its truest sense: humility. And society has long hated humility; we all know this.

People hate humility now because it shows them to be what they are: weak, stubborn, sinful, worthless beings. And it makes them admit that, to have worth, they have to rely on something or Someone else. Fear does the same thing. It tells us that we cannot do everything ourselves, we cannot face anything, we cannot be invincible or omnipotent, etc. And because the only alternatives are fearlessness and cowardice, the latter a universally despised flaw even in these days, they promote fearlessness.

But fearlessness is not only unnatural, it is impossible. If you are a human being, then you will have fears (perhaps this is why so many people in these anti-fear movies are not plainly human...?).

It is also arrogant. If one takes away fear of any kind, then one becomes sure that one is the all-powerful center of the universe, capable of anything with enough effort and motivation and belief in oneself, and dependent upon no one, not even God, which is exactly what fear admits; "Without God, we're helpless," fear admits to us.

Modern society dislikes fear because they dislike God. Fear forces them to admit their reliance on God, so they shun it. Not only this, but fear can be an element of conscience, making one reluctant to do what one knows is wrong, and that's strike two for fear in their book. It also disrupts those lovely little 'happy vibes' that they worship as an idol in social media. It can also be a virtue, in fear of the Lord, which is the chief factor in our admittance that Someone is more powerful than us.

So... What Do We Do?

Well, stop making fear the universal enemy in stories, for one thing. For another, write characters who are afraid. Sure, make them face their fears, but don't make it seem like they have none, or that they reject it. Yes, every human being would like to reject fear, no doubt, but truly mature characters will realize that it is not about what they like or don't like in saving themselves, their loved ones, the world, or whatever they're doing. What might even be a good idea is to start making fear's opposite the enemy - arrogance. Just to shoot an idea out there, you know. I know that many of you probably already have neatly-planned little novels and everything, and adding something like this just doesn't fit. Okay, fine. But don't write against it. Please. Fear is not your enemy; it's not anyone's enemy. So stop making it the enemy.

What do you think? Have you seen any movies or read any books like this? Have you ever thought about fear's representation in fiction? Do you have anything to add? Any comments? Arguments? Perhaps better definitions? I want to hear all your thoughts!

Arranged Marriage: A Much-Maligned Good

Not too long ago, my friend Megan Chappie posted on her blog a wonderful casual essay concerning arranged marriage and marriage in general, here. I loved it at the time, of course, and couldn't have agreed more with her. And then I started thinking. And then I started thinking too much. And now, I have so many thoughts on it, and additions, and eager agreement that I had to write a post and speak them. Megan's post was absolutely splendid - I agreed with every word! And it got me thinking, an it got me inspired. (I most thoroughly suggest reading it, not only to understand this post more fully, but because it was an extremely insightful work.)

What exactly is it about arranged marriage that Megan said that was so great? She challenged the age-old idea that it is necessarily a bad thing, and even concluded that it could well be a very good thing. Okay. So what is it that I'm saying about arranged marriage, then? Well, hold on to your hats, folks, because, whether you agree or not, I'm saying arranged marriage is a very good thing. Most certainly, absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent a good thing. But before you leave in shock, and before I continue, let me say this: I do not support abusive marriages, I do not necessarily support marriages of odd ages, and I am not advocating marrying a stranger just for the sake of it. That being said, though, I think arranged marriage is a good thing. In fact, I would call it a legitimate option, even nowadays, and possibly as legitimate or more (in some cases) as finding your own spouse.

Marrying For Love

So what's the big thing about marrying for love? What does it even mean? Well, if my understanding is correct, it means knowing somebody enough to know that you like them when you marry them - basically just marrying someone you don't hate and even find pleasant.

But wait. That's not what love is. Love is not liking someone, per se, love is wanting a person's good, and putting them before yourself. You don't have to like a person to do that. How many books or movies have we seen where the hero valiantly rescues a villain, a henchman, or a complete stranger? They rescue someone they obviously do not like, or possibly don't even know, and yet they love the person enough to save them. So you don't have to like a person to love them.

So, in a sense, 'marrying for love' is really just marrying for friendship. Which is a good thing, yes, as a spouse will be your lifelong best friend, of course. However. Friendship, while it needs more than this to continue, often is just founded on a whim - liking someone at random, or just meeting them and them liking you. Thus, oftentimes what 'marrying for love' tends to be is just marrying someone you like, rather than any particularly real affection.

Being Married For Love

Believe me, there is a difference between the two. Marrying for love, and being married for love are two very different things.

As I've said above, marrying for love is really just marrying someone you get along with; someone you like. Loving the person isn't always necessarily a part of it as it as the term is commonly employed. How many romances can you think of in various entertainment genres that the couple do not always act for each other's good, yet still like each other? Their marriage would technically still be marrying for love, according to the term's use.

Being married for love does not require necessarily liking each other, or really even having known each other before the marriage. What it requires is - for common good and peace - fulfilling the spouses' respective roles in the marriage regardless of what said spouses like or dislike about it. And this, yes, may imply arranged marriage, but even in chosen marriage, the spouses aren't always living exactly according to their dream - that's a given - but they are living as spouses nonetheless. As Tolkien immortally put it, "[Your] real soul-mate is the person you are actually married to."

Love and Marriage (And Attraction)

In our Christian faith, we are called to love everyone. True love is, as I described above, but wanting a person's good and putting them before yourself. Thus, we are called to do this with everyone. So, if we're called to love everyone like that, and that's what true love really is, then what's the distinction between that and romantic love?

Love really is just self-sacrifice - that's certain. However, there is another factor to romance (and thus marriage) that is often called love, though its nature is less voluntary then real love. The difference between ordinary Christian love and romantic/marital love is attraction. Obviously, in a romantic relationship, we feel a different sort-of liking for the person than we would for a sibling or a friend. We have all three of the things I described above - liking the person, loving the person, and also having an attraction to the person. This is what people generally mean when they say someone is 'in love,' is that the someone is merely attracted to someone else in a certain fashion.

Is this the factor missing, then, from arranged marriage? No, indeed, it isn't. Not by nature, at least. Being attracted to someone can happen at a very young age, and isn't always even meant to develop into a full romance. When you are too young, or already married, or feel called to a different lifestyle, *cough cough vocation cough* then you can still be attracted to people of the complimentary gender, though you cannot act on said attraction.

Thus, attraction can happen on the spur of the moment, or over time - you can just see a person and be attracted to them (I believe the common term for this is 'love at first sight,' though I've said above quite extensively that attraction and love are two different things). And yet, many people of nowadays would have you - if you so wished - marry that person because of that feeling. And that's what they would call 'marrying for love.' But, really, that's just marrying for attraction. And if attraction can happen at first sight, then what's the difference between marrying an attractive person you know, and that same attractive person by arrangement, before you know them? In the realm of attraction - the big gap between romantic and non-romantic love - there is no difference. And if that's part of what makes love romantic, then can't an arranged marriage be every bit as romantic or more than marrying someone you know?

Marriage and romantic relationship to the Christian is made up of all three components, of course - love, friendship, and attraction, in that order - but as we are called to love everybody, and attraction is not only the least important, but the least controllable of the three factors, this rule does not cross out arranged marriage. The only factor missing in arranged marriage of the three is the factor that often takes the longest, even after the marriage, to unfold, even with chosen marriages: friendship. Friendship comes in time - even someone you start out not being able to stand can become one of your best friends given time. And marriage gives people that necessary time, for sure.

In Conclusion

So, what am I even rambling on about? In short:

• 'Marriage for love' is often really just marriage for attraction, which makes the freedom seem absurd
• Marriage has to be founded on love - self sacrifice
• If, we, as Christians, already love everyone, and make a lifestyle of self-sacrifice, then we could potentially marry anyone of the complimentary gender and be happy because the main foundation is there
• Friendship, the second foundation of marriage, takes time, even in chosen marriages, so to use it as a reason to discard arranged marriage is ridiculous
• Attraction is not easily controlled, and can happen as quickly as on first sight, so to base marriage on it without either of the other foundations is fallacious
• Arranged marriage has love, grows friendship, and may thrive with or without attraction (and has just as much a chance as chosen marriage to accomplish the latter), whereas chosen marriage often does not have one or more of those and can even be founded just on attraction
• Thus, in my own humble opinion, arranged marriage really is an overlooked good - I know it sounds screwy, but it is an amazing thing!



I know it may not be a particularly common thing, now, but it needs to be. Arranged marriage is very underrated, folks. Give it a break! I know I will - in fact, I'm brainstorming right now on story ideas to make an arranged marriage couple. I know this post is incredibly haphazard, but I would like to think that it was more excitement than carelessness that accomplished it. It's a serious subject! And, while I don't expect anyone to go out and do it because of this (that is, as always, at the discernment and abilities of each person), I do hope I've changed a few minds. But for now, addio, mia amici!