Shower Thoughts - Agents of Chaos
So I see that the new Where the Wild Things Are movie is out, and it's getting decent reviews. A lot of people were worried that the film would somehow ruin their beloved childhood classic, and I can relate to that. Just not to this specific childhood classic.
A confession: I never really liked Where the Wild Things Are. To be honest, I have very little memory of what the book is actually about, other than a boy named Max who puts on a pair of white pajamas and retreats into a fantasy world where he's the king of the monsters. Thank heavens for Wikipedia or I wouldn't know anything at all.
It always struck me that these monsters had no business being cowed by a six-year-old in footies, and really should have just eaten him alive. What's more, I thought that Max was being rather selfish, abandoning his home and his family over being justly punished for being an annoying brat. When I was his age, if I pissed off my mother, I didn't get to be King of the Monsters, I had to sit in my room and read comics. There was something... unjust about Max being able to not only avoid punishment but to get an adventure instead. He was somehow rewarded by the Universe for being an agent of chaos.
Maybe I was a weird kid for never liking this particular trope of children's fiction - chaos as preferable to order. Take The Cat in the Hat for example. I still can't stand that book - here are these kids, left alone in the house, and bored. Along comes this... creature who proceeds to completely screw up their lives in the name of "fun," and all I could think was, "When their mom comes home, she's going to lose her shit. And what're they going to say - 'Mom, this six-foot tall cat did it!' She's never going to believe that." The cat, I thought, had no right to barge into their lives and force them to have his idea of "fun," which I saw as rampant irresponsibility. In the end, who was going to get spanked for messing up the house? Not that damn cat, I can tell you that much.
Sam I Am, too, was on my childhood enemies list. The guy doesn't want to try your green eggs and ham, so just leave him the hell alone!
I guess as a child, I had a deep-seated dislike of chaos. Not disorder - ask my mother about my room and she'll tell you I had no problem at all with that - but chaos. The absence of responsibility and accountability, the flagrant violation of rules and standards with no other justification that "I want to." It's selfish and inconsiderate and I saw through it from the start.
And before you ask, yes - I like Cameron much more than I like Ferris Bueller. I'm with Ferris' sister in that he needs to get what's coming to him, and he needs to get it good and hard.
CAVEAT: Given the flawed and imperfect nature of human memory, it's entirely possible that my current preferences and attitudes are coloring what I believe to be the preferences and attitudes I had as a child. But I still can't imagine myself liking Max or Sam I Am or that frikkin' Cat, so I'm going to assume my memories are reasonably accurate.
A confession: I never really liked Where the Wild Things Are. To be honest, I have very little memory of what the book is actually about, other than a boy named Max who puts on a pair of white pajamas and retreats into a fantasy world where he's the king of the monsters. Thank heavens for Wikipedia or I wouldn't know anything at all.
It always struck me that these monsters had no business being cowed by a six-year-old in footies, and really should have just eaten him alive. What's more, I thought that Max was being rather selfish, abandoning his home and his family over being justly punished for being an annoying brat. When I was his age, if I pissed off my mother, I didn't get to be King of the Monsters, I had to sit in my room and read comics. There was something... unjust about Max being able to not only avoid punishment but to get an adventure instead. He was somehow rewarded by the Universe for being an agent of chaos.
Maybe I was a weird kid for never liking this particular trope of children's fiction - chaos as preferable to order. Take The Cat in the Hat for example. I still can't stand that book - here are these kids, left alone in the house, and bored. Along comes this... creature who proceeds to completely screw up their lives in the name of "fun," and all I could think was, "When their mom comes home, she's going to lose her shit. And what're they going to say - 'Mom, this six-foot tall cat did it!' She's never going to believe that." The cat, I thought, had no right to barge into their lives and force them to have his idea of "fun," which I saw as rampant irresponsibility. In the end, who was going to get spanked for messing up the house? Not that damn cat, I can tell you that much.
Sam I Am, too, was on my childhood enemies list. The guy doesn't want to try your green eggs and ham, so just leave him the hell alone!
I guess as a child, I had a deep-seated dislike of chaos. Not disorder - ask my mother about my room and she'll tell you I had no problem at all with that - but chaos. The absence of responsibility and accountability, the flagrant violation of rules and standards with no other justification that "I want to." It's selfish and inconsiderate and I saw through it from the start.
And before you ask, yes - I like Cameron much more than I like Ferris Bueller. I'm with Ferris' sister in that he needs to get what's coming to him, and he needs to get it good and hard.
CAVEAT: Given the flawed and imperfect nature of human memory, it's entirely possible that my current preferences and attitudes are coloring what I believe to be the preferences and attitudes I had as a child. But I still can't imagine myself liking Max or Sam I Am or that frikkin' Cat, so I'm going to assume my memories are reasonably accurate.