Poetry Friday: James Crews, via George Bilgere, via Poetry Town (with a word about Hamnet)

I usually get a Poetry Friday post put together on Thursday afternoon, but yesterday I was too busy weeping. I saw Hamnet for the second time in a week — Saturday with my daughter, yesterday with Atticus. It's possibly one of the most beautiful films I’ve ever seen. Reviewers who are calling it “emotionally manipulative” (and worse) are (in my not-so-subtle opinion) callous, jaded, and ridiculous. Have you ever lost a child? Have you ever felt deep, raw, uncaged grief? No? Then go write about something else. Review a different kind of movie. Or maybe, instead of cranking out reviews, go create something yourself. There’s a challenge for you.

(Do I sound salty? Yes, yes, I do. Perhaps my patience is wearing thin these days.) 

Hamnet is a mesmerizing, two-hour meditation on love and grief, love and forgiveness, love and the power of art. If it’s not your thing, that’s fine, but don’t call it “grief p*rn,” which is an idiotic expression and an idiotic way to characterize a sensitive, serious film about one of the most horrific losses a couple can endure. 

We now return to our regularly scheduled Poetry Friday post. 

I had nothing ready for Poetry Friday, but this morning George Bilgere came to my rescue again. I have enjoyed Bilgere’s work for a long time, but in the summer of 2024 I found him in his latest habitat: Poetry Town. If you haven’t checked it out yet, run, do not walk, over there. Now! 

Today’s Poetry Town pick is from the marvelous James Crews. In October, I participated in a four-week (four Zoom meetings over consecutive Fridays) workshop with Crews called “Turning Toward Grief.” Each week featured a conversation between James and another poet (Bilgere was one, along with Naomi Shihab Nye, January Gill O’Neil, and Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer), followed by writing prompts from James. It was sublime. 

Today, I invite you to enjoy the awe that James describes, inspires and encourages in this poem. Then, run, do not walk, over to his website to sign up for his beautiful newsletter, “The Weekly Pause.” Now! 

Awe

by James Crews

It’s a shiver that climbs the trellis
of the spine, each tingle a bright white
morning glory breaking into blossom
beneath the skin. It can happen anywhere,
anytime, even finding this sleeve of ice
worn by a branch all morning, now fallen

….

(Read the rest here, at George Bilgere’s Poetry Town.) 

~~~~~~~~~~

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater is hosting the Poetry Friday round-up today at The Poem Farm. 

Photo courtesy of Ilona Burschl at Pixabay. 

We've Been to Pemberley: A Post in Bullet Points

• Yesterday: finished up watching the 1995 Pride and Prejudice with Ramona, Betsy and Anne-with-an-e. (Betsy, of course, has already seen it approximately 97 times, but we had all promised ourselves that we would watch the whole thing together over Christmas break. We were a little late, but we did it.) 

• This morning: Ramona suggested that I "take a turn about the room." (We are all amused to no end by this and we will not stop saying it.) 

• Today: Ramona made a new Minecraft world: "Pemberley," she said, "complete with fainting couch." 

• Tonight: showed Austenbook to Ramona. We giggled in a most ladylike fashion. 

• Also tonight: Betsy may read a bit more of Emma aloud to Ramona. 

• Next up for girls' movie night: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice (1940), perhaps Pride and Prejudice (1980)....

• In conclusion: I may have to get Ramona the same t-shirt Betsy owns: 

Talking With a Friend About Kids and the Culture

~~~~~

Spoiler Warning: 

If you haven't seen Frozen -- and I do not want to spoil it for you -- you may want to come back to this post at a later date. 

~~~~~

Another mom and I were recently emailing about all the influences on children that seem beyond our control. What's good for them? What's bad? What must be limited? What needn't be limited? How can we guide our kids through pop culture and help them become critical thinkers?

My daughters and I saw (and loved) Frozen, a movie that was part of my recent discussion with this mom. Other Mom and I were talking about how obsessed young children get with these movies, and she was wondering what effect certain things have on kids. For example, when a little girl hears Elsa sing,

No right, no wrong

no rules for me

I’m free

... does she take it to heart? Will she, too, think that being true to herself means slinking into a dress with a thigh-high slit and adding a little more wiggle to her walk? Or, will said little girl just be thinking, "Sparkles! Pretty! I want to build an ice castle, too!"

How much do kids internalize messages that are belted out by a beloved character? Can children sift through the chaff to get to the wheat? Do they know wheat from chaff, or is it all just glitter and a great hairdo to them?

With my friend's permission, here's what I wrote to her. This is a reconstruction of two emails and a short in-person discussion. I haven't polished it up, and I changed things only where a transition, etc., didn't make sense. And, wow, I use a lot of smileys when I email....  :) :)

Yes, I do know exactly what you mean, and you are doing the right thing. You are forming her as we speak, by navigating her through this process. The very fact that you are correcting things, pointing things out, giving her things to think about (even though her little five-year-old brain can't yet grasp all the implications)...you are forming her every minute. My girls used to get obsessed with the worst Disney role models -- of course they loved Ariel, who disobeys her father and acts like a spoiled brat and still gets everything she wants in the end. (Editor's note: And of course we still sang "Part of Your World" at the top of our lungs. And, you know what, sometimes disobedience based on conscience is called for. Was Ariel's dad being a bigot? That's worth talking about, isn't it?)  

So, yes, I think it's good that you worry a little, because that means you're viewing critically, and you're teaching your kids to view critically. Just remind yourself that it's a lifelong process -- we keep talking, talking, talking to them, helping them sort through everything our culture throws at them. Nagging them, really.  :) I guess I decided a long time ago that there were two choices -- shelter them from all of it, or guide the exposure, and let that guidance take the form of loads of discussion. But there's never just one discussion that settles it once and for all. Not only is it "never just one discussion" but it's not even just one discussion about one movie -- there are always multiple discussions about a particular movie, a character's choices, etc. And sometimes it wasn't even so much a back-and-forth discussion -- it was me pointing out things that the kids could (and probably did) overlook, helping them not to take a movie's secular message to heart, casting those things in the light of faith, helping the kids to think in those terms, you know? Even as young as four, five, six, etc. I used to, VERY often, say things like, "Well, in real life we wouldn't want to ... (fill in the blank), but he/she/it doesn't understand what it's like to be Catholic does he/she/it?" :)  Or, "In real life, we wouldn't want to show that much skin, but you're right, that's a very pretty dress that princess is wearing." :)

You know what I mean. We'll be fighting this fight our whole life, because our faith is counter-cultural, but I have found that it works out (at least so far) to do the "guided exposure" thing. Because there is so often some real beauty mixed in with messages that leave God out. I think it's important to point out that the beautiful parts do come from God and Truth, even if the person sending the message (composer, writer, singer, screenwriter, novelist, whatever) doesn't acknowledge God.

Keep doing what you're doing. It will pay off, I'm sure. You're a great model of faith for them, and you're a great mom.

And let's face it -- there's something powerful about that song. Let It Go appeals to the desire in all of us to fully be what we're called to be. But what we're called to be is open to a lot of interpretation. 

When you look at the whole of the movie, the very thing Elsa is celebrating in that song is actually the thing that's also destroying her kingdom, and she has to give up the isolation she's embracing in Let It Go in order to save others. The final message of the movie, too, has to do with sacrificing one's self as an act of true love. So overall I found it to be a very good movie --  flawed in some ways, as most things are, but good.*

I still say things to Ramona like, "Wait, Elsa just said there's no right and no wrong!" and she responds, "I know, Mom, I know. It's just a song." :)

Musicals do that to us -- they sweep us away. I guess I feel like that's part of the lesson, too, for my kids (and for me.) That just because something sweeps us away doesn't mean we interpret it to be all good, or the perfect message, etc. 

When Ramona and I talked more about Frozen, I asked her what she thought of the line, "Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know...." and she said, "Well, the trolls tell Elsa that she needs to learn to control her power, and her parents just tried to make her hide it and pretend it's not there. It's never good to keep secrets from people you love, so I think it's another case of bad Disney parenting." (Editor's note: I love that kid.) 

I think it's way better to worry a bit and address it and deal with it than it is to blindly accept everything the culture throws at us, as many people do. On the other hand, many people swing too far to the other end of the spectrum. Why does it have to be either, "Ban it all! Don't watch! Don't look!" or "It's just a movie! Lighten up! Nothing to talk about here!"

As is usually the case, for me anyway, the truest path lies somewhere in between, in the balance. 

Love,

Karen

~~~~~~~~~~

*I didn't mention this to my friend, but I absolutely loved the idea of turning the "love at first sight" thing on its head. I loved Kristof the moment he said to Anna, "Hang on, you mean to tell me you got engaged to someone you just met that day?" Oh, yeah. I shipped it then and there, and knew there was going to be something terribly wrong with Hans. And who doesn't love a snowman who is ready to melt for you? 

Can You Guess What We Recently Saw?

Monsters, Inc. figures: supplied by Ramona. 

Sadly, we do not have a Mike Wazowski. 

Atticus stepped in. 

A honeydew melon and a Sharpie can solve any number of problems. 

(Monsters University wasn't quite up to the level of the original, but we enjoyed it.) 

Bits and Pieces of Our Days: The Epiphany Edition

As our Christmas break comes to a close, I'm thinking about the lovely bits and pieces that came together to make it a great couple of weeks:

* Our break was relaxing. We used to do some traveling over the Christmas break. Our families are spread out all over the country -- most live far, far away, by land, sea or air. (Ok, not really by sea. Just land and air. But the point is that we're spread out.) Until about ten years ago, we sometimes had some family come to stay with us, or we went somewhere, but as situations changed or ice storms altered plans, our Christmases evolved into, "We stay home, indulge in nuclear family traditions, and see extended family at other times of the year." This may be the best family/holiday decision we ever made.

* Staying up late, sleeping in, reading books, cooking, baking, hanging out and talking. Relaxing.

* That said, we did get to see a couple of Atticus's sisters (he comes from a family of 12 children, and no, they weren't Catholic) and their families a few days after Christmas, and that was a lot of fun.

* We finally got together with friends for that gingerbread house party. The results were sweet:

* Atticus, Anne-with-an-e, Betsy, and I went to see Les Miserables. My quick review: I loved it. I can forgive some of the less-than-Broadway quality voices in exchange for the intimacy of the film experience of the show, which added a different and beautiful dimension which I fully appreciated. Beautifully done. Small objections here and there (did you really need to change a lyric in the epilogue ... leaving out "Your mother gave her life for you...." I was waiting to hear that one!) but overall, highly recommended for fans of the stage show. Bring loads of tissues. I had puffy eyes and a headache afterward. 

* Atticus and I got out for a date and went to see Lincoln. Oh. my. Daniel Day Lewis was incredible. Such an affecting, human, gorgeous portrayal of Abraham Lincoln. Powerful movie. I'm not a huge Sally Field fan, but at least she didn't ruin anything for me. Atticus and I both thought the final shot should have been the one in which Lincoln walks away, heading out for a night at the theater. We know what happens after that; not really necessary. Recommend, recommend, recommend. 

* Girl Time.  Fun to get out shopping with my teens for boots and purses while Ramona had a playdate, and fun to spend time with Ramona on one of her surprisingly favorite things (surprising because my nails haven't seen polish in years.) I did the "Cute Polish Designs - Water Marble" technique that she'd been wanting to try. It took a long time, and didn't turn out quite like the video, but the final result was pretty and she was happy. Good enough! 

There's more, of course, but I'm out of time! Will be blogging more soon, now that Christmas break is over....

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Saturday night movie with Atticus: Everything Must Go. On Netflix, you can find it listed under comedies. That's comic. Not a comedy. Will Ferrell is seriously good, movie is seriously touching. Netflix also calls it "Understated" and that is accurate. Don't watch it if you're looking for a fun date night -- watch it when you want to see a character study, a reflection on letting go, a brief portrait of human interaction and friendship.

*****

Atticus sent me this link -- it's two little girls explaining why one (the five-year-old) cut the other's (the three-year-old's) hair. So cute. I especially loved that they hid the hair under the radiator and that they justify the haircut by saying that everyone does something like this once in their life, or three times, or two. Or three.

*****

The girls attended Totus Tuus recently at our parish, and we also had the fun of having the team (eight college kids/young adults) over for dinner one night. A fun week for the girls, and so lovely to see these sweet, faith-filled young adults give their summers to this work. Avery, Amy, Andrea, Colleen, Ben, Nicholas, Jake and Dan -- you guys will permanently be in our prayers.

*****

Did I mention that Betsy is driving now? Did I mention how weird that is? Atticus said that when he watched her drive away the other night, all he could think about was the Christmas when she was three and a half years old. For reasons I don't remember, we stayed home for Christmas that year, and no one was able to come visit, so it was just the four of us. Betsy got a new baby doll set -- baby, cradle, high chair. A humble little set that I remember costing about $15. She played with it all day long. Anne-with-an-e spent the whole day playing in the Little Mermaid tent that Santa left. Atticus and I spent the day listening to Christmas music, napping, eating, watching the girls play, and sighing contentedly to one another. We both remember it as one of the loveliest Christmas days ever.

And now two of my three girls drive away.

In five years, we'll start teaching Ramona to drive.

Did I mention how weird that is? Good. But weird.

*****

Did I mention that teaching my daughters to drive might be the single scariest thing I've ever done in my life?

No, strike that. The scariest thing is actually letting them drive away by themselves after you've taught them to drive. Scary. But good.

*****

More vacation pictures:

Girls on a plane

Platypus on a plane: 

Girls about to head into Hogsmeade: 

Girls at The Three Broomsticks: 

Hogwarts!

Ramona and friend, chatting near dolphins at Sea World: 

At the delightful Seuss Landing: 

Daytona Beach: 

The ticket that Atticus won at Disney World, in 1987. 

They told us it was good for one all-day admission and that it would never expire. 

Mickey Mouse was true to his word: 

Fr. Robert Barron on The Hunger Games

After I posted yesterday, I was led to this video link, in which Fr. Barron talks about The Hunger Games, and today I found this written piece (he is basically saying the same thing in each, so you may watch or read.)

And here is today's update from him, a terrific one at that:

A Little Bit About The Hunger Games While I Decide Whether Or Not I Want to Write About The Hunger Games

Oh, The Hunger Games. 

There will be spoilers here, so if you've not read the book or seen the movie ...

If you don't want it spoiled for you ...

If you'd rather click away now ...

There.

Have I scrolled us down far enough to avoid spoilers?

I.

Hope.

So.

This book series has been part of my life since 2009. I read the first two books, then spent some time discerning whether or not my daughters (one of them is extremely sensitive) would even want to read them. In the end, I let them decide, knowing that we'd be discussing the books all the way. And we did. At two in the morning, for example, when Betsy finished reading the last book in the trilogy.

I've read that some people are upset because these books are "about kids killing kids." (The horror of the "games" is part of the storytelling vehicle, but that is not what the books are about. And, certainly, we are meant to be disturbed by it. Deeply so.)

I've heard from other people, fans, who were upset because the series did not have a tidy or happy ending (a happy ending would be impossible. War does not lead to happy endings.)

I've read comments by those who are horrified about "a girl who volunteers" to fight in the arena. (Katniss is not an eager or willing participant -- but when her sister's name comes up in the lottery, Katniss, desperate to save her sister, volunteers to go in Prim's place, effectively offering up her life for her sister. There is no greater love....)

You can see I'm not convinced by the naysayers. I see this series as political and cultural critique. It is about war and the ways in which power corrupts. It's about selling one's soul for a political end; it explores media manipulation, propaganda, the ethics (or lack of any) in reality TV.  It's about "bread and circuses" -- the country is not named Panem for nothing. (And, while we're on the subject of a circus, does anyone else think we already live in the world of the Panem Capitol's fashion sense?) The books ask important questions about personal choices, knowing who we are and what we want to be -- they examine the lives of people trying desperately to hold on to morality and truth in hellish circumstances.

Initially, as we are drawn into Katniss' world and the depravity of the bloodsport of the annual "games," we also find ourselves on the side of those who are plotting a rebellion against the Capitol. It's tempting to imagine a noble group of souls banding together to overthrow the evil President Snow. We want them to be noble, anyway.

We want them to be like "the boy with the bread" -- Peeta, the baker's son, who said in the first book,

"I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?" he asks.

I shake my head. How could he die as anyone but himself?

"I don't want them to change me in there. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

We want a Peeta to be in charge -- someone who can see that holding on to goodness is worth something. But when in the final book of the trilogy we meet the rebels of District 13, we find a highly rigid and militaristic group, led by the cold and calculating President Coin.

Yeah.

This is a war, and people are in it to win power. District 13, we discover, is capable of doing everything of which the Capitol was capable, right down to staging more games for revenge. President Coin is the flip side of the conflict, and the line between the good guys and bad guys has become maddeningly blurred.

We see characters making choices throughout the series that will define who they ultimately will be. Katniss's friend, Gale, hardened from years of pain, cruelty and loss, and another character (Beetee, from Catching Fire and Mockingjay) used their natural talents — combining their brilliance, hunting strategies, and battle tactics — in ways that were chilling, and were portrayed as such.

As he became more deeply involved in the rebellion, Gale chose to join a world that ultimately Katniss wouldn't accept or live in.

There is an amazing juxtaposition of songs in these books — there is one called “The Hanging Tree,” a song that Gale and Katniss share from their past. Its lyrics are an invitation to rebellion and death. They represent the fire of Gale — the fire that Katniss, in the end, rejected.

And then there is a sweet, hopeful lullaby that is used a couple of times in the series. Katniss sings it to Rue (a little girl who was forced to fight in the arena and was murdered by a brutal participant) as Rue is dying. Katniss then decorates Rue's tiny body with wildflowers and her tears. This is one of the most moving scenes in the entire series, and it's the one that blew me away. A book "about kids killing kids" shows me this? That life is precious? Yes.

We later find out, in the epilogue of the final book, that Katniss sings the lullaby now to her own children. For Katniss, the lullaby always represented hope, peace, and a kind of rebirth, which she found, in as full a way as one so wounded could, with Peeta.

The trilogy does not end "happily" exactly. Peeta and Katniss are psychologically damaged and scarred and always will be, as so many victims of wars are. And yet they married, they had children ... they did everything they could to embrace hope. There is, ultimately, a life-affirming ending, if a melancholy one.

As for our heroine, I have heard people say that they find Katniss unlikeable. There were times throughout the series when I was irritated with the character for her indecision and her flip-flopping thoughts and feelings, too.

Then I realized that Collins quite deliberately chose first-person/present tense for the book — something that is sadly but understandably lost in the movie — for exactly this reason: By living the story moment to moment with Katniss, we see her immediate responses, good, bad, and ugly. We’re privy to every awful thought that flits into her head (just the kinds of thoughts we have) and every loving impulse (just as we have) and every wrestling match, debate, and bit of confusion she experiences (just like what we endure in our heads, too.)

Katniss doesn’t act on every ugly thought or every generous impulse, and she doesn’t give voice to every mental wrestling match. Neither do we. But we have them, don't we? And in seeing her mental process, we can identify with her -- with the real Katniss that no one else sees as fully as we do.

It makes her both less likable and more so. It makes her human.

And this is YA literature, you say? Whatever happened to redheaded girls who talk too much?

Yeah, I know. And I'm not trying to convince you to read the books. I'm just saying that there's more to them than meets the eye.

So, here's the thing. I loved these books. But yes, they required loads of discussion with my daughters. Great discussions that I'm terribly glad we had. My daughters and I take these books seriously. So, yes, it bothers us a bit to think of things like gimmicky movie showings complete with games (which couldn't encourage anything but a circus atmosphere, could they?) and school re-enactments (Really?) and the fact that some kids probably laughed or cheered when certain characters in the movie met their end. But here's the other thing: the fact that there are a handful of kids in every movie theater reacting or laughing inappropriately doesn't change the fact that there are good, serious books and movies out there to be read, watched, and discussed with our kids.

Am I sad or concerned that many, many parents aren't discussing these books with their kids, and aren't discerning appropriate ages for kids to read them? Yes, I am. Just as I'm sad and concerned that many parents aren't reading anything with their kids, or talking to them about anything at all. Suzanne Collins is not the problem.

And, umm, about my post title? I guess I decided to write about The Hunger Games.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

I had a lovely post planned for Poetry Friday last week, but couldn't get it done because we were without internet access most of that morning. I have to admit that most of that morning felt like a month and a half. I am so used to high-speed-internet-instant-access-communication-at-my-fingertips ... it's always good to have it ruthlessly yanked from me in order to readjust my perspective. I was trying to make plans with two friends and their kids and I envisioned myself driving from house to house to confirm the meeting place when I remembered that I do have a phone. I picked it up and guess what? It worked. Sometimes those ancient inventions come in handy even as we chuckle at their quaint charm.

~~~~~

Anne-with-an-e took the ACT test on Saturday. She is Glad. It's. Over. We unschoolish night owls don't generally choose to be up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, readying ourselves for something that involves math. The last time we did that was, oooh, let's see ... Never? Always a new adventure when one is homeschooling high school. At any rate, I'm really proud of her and she survived.

~~~~~

I am really proud of Betsy, too. Have I mentioned that my middle daughter has written two short novels? Two. I haven't written a single novel yet. I have some catching up to do. So fun to see her tackling longer works and now revising and editing. She brings a chapter of her novel to our writing group every week and she also has an online writing pal (Katie! She loves you!) with whom she exchanges work. Recently Betsy, Anne, and two other friends starting kicking around the idea of working together to write a novel. The authorial fun just keeps coming.

~~~~~

We finally saw Tangled. It was here-and-gone so quickly from our little local theater that we hadn't had the chance to see it.  So the girls bought the dvd and Atticus and I watched it with them last night. Great movie -- themes of light and love and sacrifice. Highly recommended.

(Eta: More discussion here.)
~~~~~

Other movies we've seen lately:

Get Low (Atticus and me) Beautifully filmed. Touching and lovely. But then, Robert Duvall and Bill Murray could sit in front of a camera and discuss their favorite heartburn relief remedies and I'd watch it.

Ramona and Beezus (whole family) Don't get me started. It wasn't horrible, and yet it was. Selena Gomez as Beezus? Kissing Henry Huggins? Really? This is a problem.

Elf  (whole family) Yes. We, too, couldn't believe we'd never seen it. "You sit on a throne of lies!" is now a frequently heard emphatic whisper around here.

Flipped (older girls and me) Loved it. So very sweet. Here's a great review from Roger Ebert.

The Goodbye Girl (older girls) They loved it as much as I've always loved it. They were delighted when I told them that Quinn Cummings is not only alive but has a hilarious and wonderfully written blog. As a matter of fact, if Anne-with-an-e's ACT score is delightfully high, I'll credit the QC Report. Anne read the rabbit posts while she ate breakfast that morning and her laughter had a whole lot to do with leaving the house in a buoyant mood.

Poetry Friday: "Who Told You About Porter?"

Sometimes, Atticus and I talk in movie lines. You know what I mean -- the stuff that becomes part of your family lexicon.

One of our lines is from All the President's Men. Bernstein goes to see Jane Alexander (I can't remember her character's name) to pry some information out of her. She won't talk, but he leads her to confirm things they already know, such as some initials (but not full names).  The thing is, they don't actually know all of the names on that first visit, but she did confirm that one of the names starts with a P.  Later, they go back and because Porter was on their list of suspects, when one of them says, "Who is P?" the other says, "P we know is Porter," and then when she admits Porter received money, they've got what they want. The scene ends with Jane Alexander saying, "Who told you about Porter?"

None of that has anything to do with today's post, other than the fact that I like to imitate Jane Alexander and when I want to sound confused, I say, "Who told you about Porter?"

There is one thing that the story has in common with today's post, and it's the "P" connection. Today it's not about political crimes but about poetry. And Anne Porter.

The other day, I heard from Jennifer Fulwiler's husband.  You know the wonderful Jennifer of Conversion Diary, don't you? I feel a kinship with her because we both know what it's like to be an atheist who gets gobsmacked by Catholicism. But that's probably where the comparisons end because, of course, Jennifer is much taller, hipper, smarter and funnier than I am. Anyway, "F" wrote to me (F we know is Fulwiler) because Blogger was not allowing him to leave a comment on my last Anne Porter post (and if it does that to you, will you let me know? I may compile a list of grievances) and he wanted to share this link:


A 95-Year-Old Poet Finds Her Muse and Literary Praise


He rightly clued me in to the fact that no list of Anne Porter links is complete without this article, and I now agree with him. Visit the link to see the article that initially spread the news about the amazing Anne, and read more snippets of her poetry there.

So, the answer to, "Who told you about Porter?" is:

Atticus
and
The Writer's Almanac
and
Janice Harayda
and
The Poetry Foundation
and
Archives of American Art 
and
Amazon
and
The Gracious Mr. Fulwiler

Thanks to all of the above, and -- sorry, Woodstein ... you got scooped on this one.

The Poetry Friday round up is at Rasco from RIF.

Tsk, Tsk: The Things That Get Overlooked

Ramona recently let me know that she has never seen The Wizard of Oz.

What? And I call myself a good mother?

So, today while the older girls were out seeing a movie with friends, Ramona and I settled in for a home viewing of an old classic.

Before we got started, Ramona showed me her checklist of necessities: 

All were present and accounted for. We had a marvelous afternoon. And when I was Ramona's age, I would have killed for her red glitter shoes.

Culture Gauge -- A Resource for Parents

I haven't had time to look through the entire site, but I received an email from the people at Culture Gauge, and it looks as if their summaries and reviews offer a great way to help parents stay on top of the constant bombardment of media messages.

From the website:

He [Jim Havens] recognized three ways parents were dealing with the popular media: the unaware parent (“it’s not so bad”), the overprotective parent (“I will shield my child from all media”), and the wise parent (“I need to raise my child to understand the popular media messages and teach them how to reject the bad and choose the good”).

That aligns with the Edmisten House Philosophy -- we try to be the wise parents, and take a look at, discuss and sift through what we and our children consume. I don't always feel terribly wise, but the "informed consumer" approach seems the best for our family in this media-driven world.

Here is a page of free samples showing the kinds of reviews available at Culture Gauge, and here is the membership page where you can sign up. 

~~~~~

"Parents have the first responsibility for the education of their children. They bear witness to this responsibility first by creating a home where tenderness, forgiveness, respect, fidelity, and disinterested service are the rule."

                         -- Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2223

(Note: I have no material interest in the website; I just try to pass on good stuff!)

The Confused Blogger

If nothing else, February 2 shows you to what degree this blog is all over the map.

Links to two past posts:

Purified Tear by Tear is a post considering the connections between the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple and Mary's Purification to my many miscarriages, and the ways in which the Lord has been purifying me through my own presentations.

My Groundhog Day Shrinklit, on the other hand, is not a serious reflection, though it leans toward the metaphysical, as does the movie, without even meaning to, because, honestly, how can one contemplate a single day repeating itself endlessly without eventually bringing the meaning of life into the picture?  I love that movie.

So, today, I'll be my usual schizophrenic self -- crying and laughing on the same day.

I don't think God will mind.

Favorite Version of "A Christmas Carol"?

Well, certainly the 1951 version is a classic.  Alastair Sim makes a marvelous Scrooge. Delightful, really. However, I've always had one little gripe about this version. Actually, it's a big gripe about a thing that should be little but isn't.  Tiny Tim.  In this version, he's a very tall-y Tim, and it annoys me.  Scrooge should not look as if he's about to fall over from the weight of Tiny Tim.

The 1962 Mr. Magoo version? Okay, it's not really in the running, but I had to mention it because when I was four, it was in the running and even that badly animated Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come gave me nightmares.

What about the 1984 George C. Scott version?  Yes, yes, the score is heavy-handed and downright silly in a few spots (such as when Belle tells Ebenezer she hopes he'll be happy in the life he's chosen and the music pounds us over the head with the significance of what is to come) but I can forgive it all its flaws because of Scott.  I think he's the quintessential Scrooge.  And I love David Warner and Susannah York as the Cratchits in this one, and Tiny Tim is actually tiny and very cute and I adore him.  This version wins the "brings me to tears" tally, and it's my number one.   We just watched this one with the girls on Sunday night, and they loved it.

What about you?

"It is funny because the squirrel gets dead."

You'll have to see the wonderful, creative, original, touching (I cried within the first ten minutes) hilarious (I have deep admiration for that dog humor) movie Up to get the post title.

We took out a small loan and carted the whole family to the film. It was worth the monthly payments we'll be making. Atticus (and the rest of us) laughed out loud, and Anne, Betsy and I all cried. Several times. And, the 3-D was spectacularly fun.

So, if you're debating a bathroom makeover vs. going to the movies with your family, opt for the movies. Who really cares what your vanity looks like, anyway?

And, the squirrel gets dead (but not on camera, and no actual squirrels were harmed in the making of the movie.)

A Groundhog Day Shrinklit

I'm a day late, but I'm rerunning my Groundhog Day
Shrinklit (rerunning is quite appropriate for the movie, though, eh?)

Remember ShrinkLits? They were funny, succinct little retellings of classic works.

I wrote this one a couple of years ago, in honor of a movie that is its own kind of classic.



Karen's Groundhog Day Shrinklit

Phil: at first, a selfish jerk
Focused on his fun and work
Women were a toy or game
Till every day became the same.

Quite suddenly, no rules apply
Steal some money, tell a lie
Nihilism's worth a spin
until despair comes crashing in

Suicide just didn't take
Surely something is at stake
Could it be that it is worth
Striving for a true rebirth?

Self improvement: worth a try?
Though all past ways it does defy?
Selflessness for its own sake?
Letting go of all that's fake?

Helping, saving, giving, tears
Authentic feelings, first in years
Letting go of all that's old
Lets in truth, releases cold

Something genuine and kind
Allows this man his best to find
Is this conversion? God at work?
Or one colossal cosmic quirk?

August Rush

"I believe in music the way some people believe in fairy tales," says young Evan at the beginning of August Rush.

And thus we know that we're in for a magical fairy tale of a story, with a twist of Oliver and a lot of fun music.

In this contemporary, Dickensian tale, we first meet Evan at the orphanage where he has lived for "eleven years and 16 days." He's been counting. Music is sewn into the fiber of Evan's being. It's a gift from his parents, Lyla (a cellist) and Louis (an Irish rocker.) "Once upon a time, they fell in love," Evan tells us. They did, and Evan (later redubbed "August Rush" by the Fagin-like Wizard with whom he goes to live) was the result of their one night together. Separated by circumstances and Lyla's deceitful father, neither of them initially knows that Evan is out there somewhere (I don't want to spoil the unfolding of the story for you with details, details) but they know, somehow, that they have to find each other. The power and magic of music is what will bring them back together. And Evan knows it.

Keri Russell is appropriately luminous as Lyla (and later, so convincingly desperate to find her son) and Jonathan Rhys Meyers is appropriately tortured and dreamy as Louis. Freddie Highmore is just so perfectly cute that I could scoop him up from that orphanage and adopt him myself. Robin Williams is more than creepy and dangerous as Wizard.

My one little quibble (here's the Catholic mom in me) is that I would have loved it if Lyla and Louis's beginnings had been more classically a fairy tale. I would have had them secretly married (secretly, of course, because Lyla's controlling father would never let his classical cellist marry a rocker. And, since we're suspending all kinds of disbelief anyway, we could also suspend our disbelief that in the age of Google two people could remain separated for 11 years and 16 days without being able to track each other down) and then we could avoid explaining a one-night stand to children, so do take that into account if you're considering this one for the family. Though this particular one-night stand was magically redeemed by True Love, there's the problem of romanticizing what, in reality was a chance meeting of two people who didn't know the first thing about each other. Fodder for good conversation with kids old enough to understand.

Anne-with-an-e, Betsy and I loved this movie. Anne has already bought the soundtrack and I'm pretty sure the dvd is on someone's wish list. Magic, romance, danger, impossible obstacles to overcome, the king searching for his queen, and the lost, little prince finding lasting happiness ... August Rush has it all.

I want to see this movie

if only to hear Alan Rickman say, "Wine is sunlight held together by water."

Here's a trailer for Bottle Shock.

So maybe I'll take them after all

Anne-with-an-e, Betsy and Ramona were talking about movies yesterday.

"Wall*E is out!" said one.
"Yeah!" said another.
"We should go," said someone small.

Someone tall (no, not really, just taller than the someone small) said, "Sorry, guys. We've had our movie quota for the summer. Too pricey. We're saving disposable income (ha! I like to pretend we have some) for the big trip."

Faces fell, but they took the news bravely.

But I've just read on Catholic Exchange that perhaps this movie is worth the disposable income. Perhaps it's worth it, too, for the conversations it will spark about disposable income. Perhaps we'll go. We'll just skip the popcorn.

Prince Caspian

We saw the movie.

Good movie. Good for popcorn-munching, eye-popping special effects, and saying, "Wow!" and "Aslan does look gorgeous."

Full of action, full of adventure.

Full of battles.

Full of people who go by the same names as those in the book. My friend, Jack, summed it up best for me right after we saw it, but he doesn't have a blog, so I can't link you to him.

Good reviews that sum it up (more articulately than I'm taking time for) here, at Decent Films (and another good article from Steven Greydanus, here) and here, at MacBeth's Opinion.

Good comments here, at Love2Learn at the Movies.

And, it looks like Maureen Wittmann felt the same way, too.

Sigh.