a w a k e : t o : d r e a m

The ending of Alias is so unsatisfying. There is no real catharsis, no clearly understood growth, and only a fraction of moving on. Perhaps this is more reflective of real life, but in the world of children’s literature, where nearly every story has a message, and every book is an opportunity to teach something, it seems so pointless to inflict so much pain upon reader and child character alike without a genuine conclusion.

In the end, the parents have a horrible fight, calling each other names, throwing blame around, both recognizing only their own hurt. The children watch in horror from the stairs, and then take cover in a room together like soldiers in a trench. Realizing what they’ve done in front of their children, both Daniel and Miranda collapse, emotional and defeated. Daniel finally takes some of Miranda’s criticism to heart and goes home to scrub his flat, getting emotional and weepy over the socks he finds sprinkled throughout:

“Every now and again, he came upon an odd sock, and slipped it gratefully into his pocket. The straying socks of children of divorce, he thought, were very possibly the twentieth-century equivalent of all those olive brances of biblical times.” (p. 184)

…Finally, the children get stubborn, drag Miranda over to Daniel’s house and set up a discussion time while their parents are still humiliated by their nuclear fight. Concessions are made on both sides and the book ends with tentative acts of friendship.

This book has one or two moments of realistic introspection, such as Daniel’s “sock moment,” however they feel somewhat contrived found next to the ridiculousness of the rest of the novel. I just have no idea what this author was thinking with this book. It isn’t funny, nor does it accomplish a decent “issue” discussion. It seems to stand alone as a great example of parental irresponsibility and ugliness and childhood trauma.

In what may be the only true connection present in this storyline, I finally see what the author might be trying to say with this book. At one point near the end, Lydia shows up on her father’s doorstep after the horrible fight between Daniel and Miranda “on principle,” because it was Tuesday Teatime, and that was her father’s day to have them over. They start to argue and Lydia makes the point that if there is nothing really left of the marriage, then the only purpose they have at all is to do what is right for the kids - they are the only ones left to salvage, and the fighting isn’t helping anything. This reminds me so much of the conversation the kids and Daniel had about why he couldn’t simply “act” his way through the marriage in order for things to work. It’s not worth it to salvage a marriage, for Daniel to act simply to make it work… they need to start looking to what is best for the children so that they can get away from how hurt they (Daniel and Miranda) are. It seems like a simple message (and one I could probably have guessed) but again, it’s a shame that more time was given in this novel to gruesome pantomimes from Daniel about nefarious ways to maim his ex-wife.

Alias Madame Doubtfire, for all of its sad, childish, parental nuclear fighting, seems more suited to our “reality” reading list. As the story goes along and the reader is exposed to more of the family situation, Madame Doubtfire’s appearance in Miranda’s household, and the subplots of “life drawing” and Miranda’s unintended storytelling about the marriage, it reminds me more and more of Melinda’s perspective of the dysfuntional adults in her life in Laurie Halse Andersen’s Speak. As much as confused observation of adult behaviour is a theme in young teen fiction and beyond, I feel as if this is a strong similarity between Alias and Speak, and based on this and the strong issues of divorce, fighting and family violence that are dealt with in this story puts this book more solidly in the Realism genre than humour.

There is some weak, inappropriate and mean-spirited humor in this book, but it is buried by the much larger issues and problems being dealt with. The humor in this book might as well be a weak attempt to distract from what’s really happening, both in the plot itself and in the writing.

The plot of Alias Madame Doubtfire is simple - family split up, kids are sad, parents hate each other, dad disguises as nanny, much tension ensues. However, it is the children’s characters who add real substance to the book. They are so easy to relate to, and so pitiful at the same time. It really makes me wonder how this novel is classified as humour especially considering the subject matter. It just doesn’t seem very funny.

Lydia, as the oldest child, takes on the typical “divorced child” role as the spokesperson, shepherd and chief defender of her younger siblings. Christopher is the middle child, stuck between adolescent maturity and childhood innocence - his reaction to the tensions in his world is a mixture of both. But Natalie - Natty - is the one who really breaks my heart. She’s barely school aged and all she can do is cry and hide from all of the anger.

It is Natty I most relate to. There was a time in my family’s life when my parents were less than comfortable with each other. I was 6 or 7ish, the youngest of four children, and mystified by all of the yelling that was happening. The mahogany desk became my sanctuary. This period in our lives didn’t last long, but at the same time, I was discovering how many of my school friends had divorced - or divorcing - parents, and for years afterward, every raised voice, slammed door, or grumbling look gave me the same anxious feeling. Now that I’m older I realize that though things were tough, my parents were committed to figuring out their differences, and that much of the tension was due to financial pressures - my childhood fears seem almost funny to me now. The thing is, reading this book makes me realize that if I, as the youngest child of a strong family could have such a reaction to a tense time in life, then what of the youngest child of a familial WWIII?

When I was a child, I hated loud noises. I would run from the vacuum cleaner or the sound of someone yelling. When the vacuum cleaner was running or mom and dad were fighting, I would sit in the kneehole under my favourite mahogany desk with my hands over my ears.

Reading Alias Madame Doubtfire, I find myself looking for that mahogany desk and its welcoming darkness. I think I read through the first section, around three chapters, holding my breath and cringing. I can’t believe this book was ever made. Just about from the beginning of the first chapter, the whole story involves a bitter father with a sense of humor coping with his three kids on his nights for custody, all the while saying horrible things about her and miming various methods of homicide.

This book is painful. I don’t really know if I want to finish it. I keep expecting there to be signs of a change of heart, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s such a horrible cycle and I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be so graphic about such a relationship as this one in a book. On the other hand, I’m sure it’s nice for kids who are really facing this situation at home to look into a situation they relate to and see some humor. Unfortunately, I find the humor quite gallows and mostly too weak and not appropriate enough to overcome the painful circumstances. I can only feel so sorry for those kids! Maybe it’s my background betraying me - I’m not sure I could fathom being shuttled from one parent to another, having to choose between two bitter people and deal with their distance and lack of reason.

Even though I already know what the storyline is from having seen the movie as a kid, I’m still shocked at the sheer mean-spirited nature of the adults in this book and their careless attitude about what it does to the kids. This is not a book I would either read to children, nor want to teach with it. This book is the unsanitized, less-funny version of the movie, so far.

Jocelyn’s needs: (found conveniently by typing “[your name] needs” into google and recording the first ten statements that return)
1. Jocelyn needs a family that would love and support her and remain deeply committed
to taking care of her needs.
2. Jocelyn needs a nap during her commute, says her mom… She needs to be nurtured…(??)
3. Jocelyn needs help with the committee. (what have I volunteered myself for now?)
4. Jocelyn needs a hot drink (I’m not arguing this…)
5. Jocelyn needs a faster life than the one I can give her, and Byron’s shallow life
is light speed.(NOOoooooo!!!!)
6. She prefers to stay in Houston where her son Hunter from her first marriage lives
and be available if her troubled daughter Jocelyn needs her. (so apparently my mom is a big influence…)
7. there is a lot more truth that needs to come out,” said Jocelyn. (Oohh, mysterious!)
8. Jocelyn House needs
your financial support to continue to make this choice available for Manitobans.(again, I’m not arguing this point. Then again, see previous post. Although I don’t know how my financial needs relate to manitobans…)
9. Jocelyn’s increasing support needs means that she needs additional assistance to
continue being a parent and raising her sons. (I have kids???!?)
10. Jocelyn just needs more game action. (I swear I didn’t make this up)

And believe it or not I turned up two other bloggers doing the same “jocelyn needs” thing. What is it about jocelyns and blogging?

“Israel!” “…officials.” “President.” Pretty much sums up the most used words on our planet, doesn’t it? Really?
What about “Iraq” at #5, “suicide” at #27…. or weapons, bombs, talks, uk or future? What are the words and pictures that define our times? These words are from 10 X 10, a web applet that gathers the top 100 words and pics from Reuters World News, BBC World Edition, and the New York Times International News.
I may possibly be the last one in the blogosphere to actually find this thing, but my question is this: What are the words and pictures that should define our times?

I was sad to find that I couldn’t think of any really huge accomplishments that happened this year - only tragic stories of loss, earthquakes, hurricaines, floods, bombings and deaths - that fit with this theme. Still, they happened. And we survived.

What pictures touched us this year? For me, video footage of that luxury resort in Indonesia that was swamped with water several stories above the pool as it carried hotel guests out to sea, both from the tsunami disaster around New Years’ 2004. That famous photo of the tipped over double-decker bus in london on July 7 as a result of the subway bombings. In the summer, Live 8 was everywhere - and if you owned an iPod, followed politics or listened to music, so was this guy:

What images will 2006 bring? I’m hoping for one of these: