Book Meme, Day 15
15. Favorite fictional father.
Ah, literary Dads. (It says "fictional", but this is a book meme, and thus all tv and movie only fathers are excluded.) My problem here is that I'm not sure at what, exactly, the question is aiming at. Because I can think of several characters I like a lot whose being parents is an important part of their characterisation, yet who are plainly terrible at fatherhood. And I have a feeling the question is going for beloved fathers who actually are good for their offspring.Or maybe not. So I shall try to provide answers for all criteria.
A sidenote first: I read To Kill A Mockingbird too late in life to have imprinted on the book. I mention this because I have the feeling Atticus Finch gets named a lot as a candidate for being both a good father and a memorable character (not a common combination in books). It probably says something about me that it took the Go Set A Watchman, the raw sequel/prequel, to make me somewhat interested in that particular father-daughter relationship.
On to my candidates: First, terrible fathers who nonetheless are favorite characters: : Mr. Wednesday, aka my very favorite rendition of Odin, of course. Magnificent bastard, manipulative, ruthless, charming, and yep, between arranging for Laura's death so Shadow is emotionally isolated post prison and available and manipulating Shadow to sacrifice himself for Wednesday, absolutely a bad father. And yet when the novel concludes with Shadow, after finding all this out (and uncovering the entire Wednesday-Loki conspiracy against the other gods besides), meeting the Icelandic incarnation of Odin and having a peaceful chat (with one last coin trick) with him, yours truly understands and approves.
Fathers who are doing their best at being a father but can be failboats as a person anyway: I'm stretching the definition of "fictional" here, but Theodor Fontane's version of his father Louis in Meine Kinderjahre is just my favorite for this. (Also, it's the original for a great many Fontane characters.) Now Fontane, aka one of the justly most famous German late 19th century novelists, is regarded as THE fictional chronicler of Prussian society. And yet his portrait of father Henri Louis Fontane is absolutely anti-cliché when it comes to the popuplar image of Prussian fathers. Louis is charming, loving, a fun parent, and his gift for gab - he's a raconteur , as his contemporaries who lived when German had far more French words, put it - is obviously one that passed to his son Theo. When Louis has to do the expected fatherly thing of importing moral lessons (tm), he'll tell you an anecdote about Napoleon and his marshals instead because he thinks these are more fun. (His favourite was Ney,
amenirdis.) At a party, he has no problem making deliberately a fool out of himself as long as it ensures boredom doesn't set in. He's also an incorrigible gambler, which means he loses the pharmacies he has (he's an apothocary by profession), one after the other, and it destroys the relationship with his wife who also hates that she has to be the stern, punishment dealing out parent to Louis' fun parent. (Something adult Theo understands but child Theo didn't.) Said wife is the one who has to cope with the worries of what will happen with the kids after yet another bankruptcy, because she can't share the "something will come up" optimism, and is cast as the joykiller by the kids for her trouble. (Irony of fate: Theodor Fontane to some degree replicated this dynamic in his own marriage - not by gambling, but by deciding to become a full time professional writer. Which in the late 19th century was no safer economic choice than it is today.) Anyway, the portrait of his father is drawn with much affection but also with the clarity of hindsight, and said father certainly is one of the most memorable and compelling Fontane characters, and a personal favorite of mine. (Footnote: if you're wondering about the French names, both of Fontane's parents were descendants of French Huguenots who emigrated to Prussia after Louis XIV had revoked the edict of Nantes.)
Fathers who are good fathers and good people: here my favourite is a father figure, not a father. It's Meister Eder from the German children's novel (and radio play, and tv) series Meister Eder und sein Pumuckl by Ellis Kaut. (This series actually started as radio plays, then she wrote the novels, then eventually it was filmed.) Eder is a carpenter living in Munich and at the start of the story a goblin becomes stuck in his workshop by accident, and thus visible to Eder. This is Pumuckl, the red-headed guy from my icon. By goblin law, Pumuckl now has to stay with Eder, and essentially is an unruly, anarchic child to Eder's kind but set-in-his-ways dad. The charm of the novels lies in them adjusting to each other and complimenting each other in their very opposite natures. Eder, most memorably played and voiced by Gustl Bayrhammer, is a Munich craftsman fond of his beer and his quiet life and yet despite himself absolutely charmed by having this bit of magic in his life; he also makes even Bavarian-despising North Germans like at least this particular Bavarian. (Ellis Kaut herself was literarly a Münchner Kindl, a child of Munich.) Getting adopted by Meister Eder: definitely a dream fate for a great many German kids through the generations.
1. Favorite book from childhood
2. Best Bargain
3. One with a blue cover.
4. Least favorite book by favorite author
5. Doesn't belong to me.
6. The one I always give as a gift.
7. Forgot I owned it.
8. Have more than one copy.
9. Film or tv tie-in.
10. Reminds me of someone I love.
11. Second hand bookshop gem.
12. I pretend to have read it.
13. Makes me laugh.
14. An old favorite.
16. Can't believe more people haven't read.
17. Future classic.
18. Bought on a recommendation.
19. Still can't stop talking about it.
20. Favorite cover.
21. Summer read.
22. Out of print.
23. Made to read at school.
24. Hooked me into reading.
25. Never finished it.
26. Should have sold more copies.
27. Want to be one of the characters.
28. Bought at my fave independent bookshop.
29. The one I have reread most often.
30. Would save if my house burned down.
This entry was originally posted at https://selenak.dreamwidth.org/1291429.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.
Ah, literary Dads. (It says "fictional", but this is a book meme, and thus all tv and movie only fathers are excluded.) My problem here is that I'm not sure at what, exactly, the question is aiming at. Because I can think of several characters I like a lot whose being parents is an important part of their characterisation, yet who are plainly terrible at fatherhood. And I have a feeling the question is going for beloved fathers who actually are good for their offspring.Or maybe not. So I shall try to provide answers for all criteria.
A sidenote first: I read To Kill A Mockingbird too late in life to have imprinted on the book. I mention this because I have the feeling Atticus Finch gets named a lot as a candidate for being both a good father and a memorable character (not a common combination in books). It probably says something about me that it took the Go Set A Watchman, the raw sequel/prequel, to make me somewhat interested in that particular father-daughter relationship.
On to my candidates: First, terrible fathers who nonetheless are favorite characters: : Mr. Wednesday, aka my very favorite rendition of Odin, of course. Magnificent bastard, manipulative, ruthless, charming, and yep, between arranging for Laura's death so Shadow is emotionally isolated post prison and available and manipulating Shadow to sacrifice himself for Wednesday, absolutely a bad father. And yet when the novel concludes with Shadow, after finding all this out (and uncovering the entire Wednesday-Loki conspiracy against the other gods besides), meeting the Icelandic incarnation of Odin and having a peaceful chat (with one last coin trick) with him, yours truly understands and approves.
Fathers who are doing their best at being a father but can be failboats as a person anyway: I'm stretching the definition of "fictional" here, but Theodor Fontane's version of his father Louis in Meine Kinderjahre is just my favorite for this. (Also, it's the original for a great many Fontane characters.) Now Fontane, aka one of the justly most famous German late 19th century novelists, is regarded as THE fictional chronicler of Prussian society. And yet his portrait of father Henri Louis Fontane is absolutely anti-cliché when it comes to the popuplar image of Prussian fathers. Louis is charming, loving, a fun parent, and his gift for gab - he's a raconteur , as his contemporaries who lived when German had far more French words, put it - is obviously one that passed to his son Theo. When Louis has to do the expected fatherly thing of importing moral lessons (tm), he'll tell you an anecdote about Napoleon and his marshals instead because he thinks these are more fun. (His favourite was Ney,
amenirdis.) At a party, he has no problem making deliberately a fool out of himself as long as it ensures boredom doesn't set in. He's also an incorrigible gambler, which means he loses the pharmacies he has (he's an apothocary by profession), one after the other, and it destroys the relationship with his wife who also hates that she has to be the stern, punishment dealing out parent to Louis' fun parent. (Something adult Theo understands but child Theo didn't.) Said wife is the one who has to cope with the worries of what will happen with the kids after yet another bankruptcy, because she can't share the "something will come up" optimism, and is cast as the joykiller by the kids for her trouble. (Irony of fate: Theodor Fontane to some degree replicated this dynamic in his own marriage - not by gambling, but by deciding to become a full time professional writer. Which in the late 19th century was no safer economic choice than it is today.) Anyway, the portrait of his father is drawn with much affection but also with the clarity of hindsight, and said father certainly is one of the most memorable and compelling Fontane characters, and a personal favorite of mine. (Footnote: if you're wondering about the French names, both of Fontane's parents were descendants of French Huguenots who emigrated to Prussia after Louis XIV had revoked the edict of Nantes.)
Fathers who are good fathers and good people: here my favourite is a father figure, not a father. It's Meister Eder from the German children's novel (and radio play, and tv) series Meister Eder und sein Pumuckl by Ellis Kaut. (This series actually started as radio plays, then she wrote the novels, then eventually it was filmed.) Eder is a carpenter living in Munich and at the start of the story a goblin becomes stuck in his workshop by accident, and thus visible to Eder. This is Pumuckl, the red-headed guy from my icon. By goblin law, Pumuckl now has to stay with Eder, and essentially is an unruly, anarchic child to Eder's kind but set-in-his-ways dad. The charm of the novels lies in them adjusting to each other and complimenting each other in their very opposite natures. Eder, most memorably played and voiced by Gustl Bayrhammer, is a Munich craftsman fond of his beer and his quiet life and yet despite himself absolutely charmed by having this bit of magic in his life; he also makes even Bavarian-despising North Germans like at least this particular Bavarian. (Ellis Kaut herself was literarly a Münchner Kindl, a child of Munich.) Getting adopted by Meister Eder: definitely a dream fate for a great many German kids through the generations.
1. Favorite book from childhood
2. Best Bargain
3. One with a blue cover.
4. Least favorite book by favorite author
5. Doesn't belong to me.
6. The one I always give as a gift.
7. Forgot I owned it.
8. Have more than one copy.
9. Film or tv tie-in.
10. Reminds me of someone I love.
11. Second hand bookshop gem.
12. I pretend to have read it.
13. Makes me laugh.
14. An old favorite.
16. Can't believe more people haven't read.
17. Future classic.
18. Bought on a recommendation.
19. Still can't stop talking about it.
20. Favorite cover.
21. Summer read.
22. Out of print.
23. Made to read at school.
24. Hooked me into reading.
25. Never finished it.
26. Should have sold more copies.
27. Want to be one of the characters.
28. Bought at my fave independent bookshop.
29. The one I have reread most often.
30. Would save if my house burned down.
This entry was originally posted at https://selenak.dreamwidth.org/1291429.html. Comment there or here, as you wish.