Are you a good princess, or a bad princess?

Anybody who's read more that two of my posts knows by know that I have a young daughter at home, and she absolutely loves the Disney princesses, and Disney movies in general.  Like a lot of blue-state, liberal-arts, post-feminist people, I have mixed feelings about this.  I worry about the influence these types of cultural cues have on children, especially girls, and the movies are a mixed bag of good and bad lessons. I want to take a minute and evaluate a few of them.

Sigh.  I was going to write another long essay-form rant on the subject, a la my earlier entry on The Little Mermaid, but couldn't decide how to frame it coherently, so instead, I'm making my second list in the (admittedly very short) history of Caught Without a Parachute (the first, somewhat lackluster list is here).

Is Robin Hood a Socialist?





There's was a piece the other day on the New York Times' website about the growing movement - particularly in Europe - in favor of a so-called "Robin Hood tax".  These are tiny taxes on certain financial transactions, particularly the risky ones that generate large sums of money, seemingly out of thin air.  The proceeds of the taxes, as the name suggests, are then used to support social programs.  The idea has some high-profile supporters, such as Bill Gates and Angela Merkel, and not surprisingly, some powerful opponents in the US and UK.

I made the decision not to talk too much about current events on this blog, because every post would quickly become an incoherent rant, but this presents an opportunity to talk about a Disney movie, which is one of the things I said I was going to do (check out my read on The Little Mermaid here).  It raised the question in my mind: is the Robin Hood we were presented as children, the fox in the green hat, a Socialist?

On Mermaids

When you have a three year old girl, you find yourself re-watching a lot of movies you haven’t seen in a while, especially Disney. I saw The Little Mermaid when it first came out, in 1989 (I was seven) and liked it, though even then I was aware that it was intended more for girls than boys. Watching it again now, with an adult perspective, I’ve figured out why – and it’s more than just Disney’s incessant and slightly irritating marketing of the “Princess” concept.

The release of The Little Mermaid marked the beginning of what’s been called the Disney Renaissance, a series of films in which the study broke out of the slump it had been in since the seventies. The renaissance continued with Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast, and The Lion King. How long the streak continued depends on your opinion of movies like Mulan, Pocahontas, Tarzan and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but the core of the period is those first four films. The torch was largely passed to Pixar after Tarzan, and Disney started making stuff like Dinosaur and The Emperor's New Groove, meh.



Anybody else think she looks like
Kristen Stewart?

  Of the four, the best is arguably either Beauty and the Beast or The Lion King, but an informal poll of women in my life indicates that The Little Mermaid had the most long-term influence. It’s that influence that I want to explore here.  There is a considerable amount of analytical writing on the Disney oeuvre available online, and much of it takes a negative view of the films' influence, a prime example is this piece by Chey on Helium.com.  While I agree that early exposure to these cultural artifacts has an effect, I disagree with the view that these effects must be negative, and in se reinforce the "patriarchal myth".  The Little Mermaid’s power rests in buried psychosexual messages that ultimately provide a positive guide for adolescent girls’ development. To start with, the central event of the movie – Ariel’s transformation from mermaid to human – is a clear metaphor for sexual awakening. The important conflict is how that awakening is handled by Ariel and by those around her. It’s become a common game to spot supposed subliminal sexual messages buried in the frames of Disney movies – like the famous tower on Triton’s palace, or the dust that swirls around Simba in The Lion King. I’m not interested in such facile pastimes. Instead, I want to go deeper, and discuss symbolic and even archetypal characters and objects that give The Little Mermaid its intense hold on the imagination.



The Curse of Coolness

It's been nearly a year since my last post. Thank god no one's actually reading this, or there'd be some disappointment going around. I promised stories from suicide row in my last post, and I'll get to that later on, along with the various comings and goings of life in general, and what's been happening these last eleven months. Big news: kid number two on the way! But that's also for another post.

What I want to talk about today is the problem of being cool. I was never cool in the sense that I was popular, or sought after, or a trend-setter. But I have, for a long time, tried to cultivate coolness. Ironic detachment. The ability to remain unruffled, and unmoved. And I'm realizing how much I missed in the process. How much we all miss, because our culture pushes cool to the point that I believe its hobbling the whole society.

I'll tell you what brings this up. In the last couple of months I've become a fan of Roger Ebert's website, especially his Great Movie essays, which are a biweekly feature. You can get the complete list here . Anyway, tonight I read his essay on Franco Zeferelli's Romeo & Juliet and thought "I bet Netflix has that available for streaming". Sure enough, they do.