Academic Spoofs in Pamela tribute, Mr. B Speaks!

Mr. B Speaks! is partly a spoof. Mr. B has to defend his marriage to Pamela against a group of academics, and I used their objections/conversation to spoof a number of silly academic ideas I've encountered as both a student and an instructor.

My primary spoof is of "just call me Gary" Gary. Gary is the type of professor who thinks he is edgy and contemporary and prides himself for climbing on the latest political bandwagon. Unfortunately, Gary is not a complete construct (an image of pompous academe rather than a representative of actual academic members). I've met Gary. The following passage from Mr. B Speaks! summarizes Gary's attitudes:

"The whole novel is nothing but trite and shallow pandering,” Gary declaimed. “What about death, disease, poverty, slavery, racism—all the terrible issues of the eighteenth century? Hmm? I mean women couldn’t even vote! But no, we’re fixated on watching an inconsequential couple tie the knot. People hid their heads in the sand. Just like they do today.”

Deborah said, “That sounds like the end of a lecture,” and Gary reddened.

Dorothy is Gary's nemesis. She is a young reviewer of romance novels, and she mirrors the attitude of a number of my young female students. They are completely blithe about their place/role in society. They don't feel put-upon. They take for granted that a woman can do whatever she wants in terms of a career/future. They don't feel the need to back "women's" issues or vote to support only female politicians.

From my point of view, the Dorothys of the world are what feminism is all about! However, someone like Gary--a chauvinist who thinks he isn't because he adopted the right "feminist" attitudes back in the 60's--the Dorothys of the world are a massive, scary threat.

Gary was trying to reprimand the young, romantic girl, Deborah. Personally, Mr. B would try flirting with her, but the man just blathered on about himself.

“So,” Mr. B heard the ridiculous man say, “I guess you’re one of those young ladies who adores authors like Jane Austen.”

“Sure,” Deborah said.

“I will grant, she is an important female writer.”

“Walter Scott believed no author matched Jane Austen at describing ordinary life and personalities.”

“Yes. Well. But won’t you admit that, despite her ability and her importance to women’s literature, Austen was mired in middle class values?”

Mr. Shorter, Mr. B's solicitor, leaned over to Mr. B and said, “What kind of gallantry is that man employing?”

“He isn’t,” Mr. B said, rubbing his temples. “He’s Polonius.”

“I like middle class values,” Deborah said.

“Of course you would say that,” the professor said in an irritated voice. Apparently, the professor didn’t like being contradicted.

And Mr. B was against female free-thinkers?

The professor said snippily, “I bet you wish you were Elizabeth, hmm, being chased by that handsome Darcy?”

“Not really,” Deborah said. “A lot of women do read books that way. And men too. Sort of what would I do? But I like to explore the author’s characterizations. Like Mr. B is way more of a homebody than most people picture him. Of course, he served in Parliament, but I think that was just out of a sense of obligation.”

Mr. Shorter snorted, but Mr. B couldn’t disagree. Except that a home without Pamela wasn’t much of a home.

“I’m sure Mr. B is quite conservative in his politics,” the professor said disdainfully.

“You could ask him,” Deborah said.

There was a short silence. Mr. B smiled to himself. The professor was a coward. He probably gravitated to female scholars because they were less trained in rhetoric and therefore easier to bully.

Deborah said, “Or Leslie Quinn. She might know.”

Some female scholars, that is. Mr. B laughed out loud. He glanced over his shoulder.

The professor was crimson. He didn’t look at Mr. B but hunched his shoulders and glared at Deborah, who was trying not to giggle. “I suppose progressive thinking is too much to ask from computer-obsessed students.”

Mr. Shorter muttered, “These Literary Fairness folks aren’t the most tolerant people.”

The "I'm pro-woman--how dare a woman contradict me with her conservative ideas!" attitude is, I'm sorry to say, real (though fading).

Leslie Quinn and Dr. Matchel (another member of the Committee for Literary Fairness) represent the two sides of Women's Studies, Dr. Matchel representing the negative or more narrow side. I'm actually kinder to her than I am to Gary because, like many disenchanted feminists, I believe that Women Studies started out with good intentions. I even believe there are decent Women Studies scholars. But the need to have an agenda/political purpose hurt more than helped that discipline.

Dr. Matchel, for example, is the kind of feminist who will support a CAUSE, no matter how very faulty, simply because it is pro-women. Thus her attitude towards Deborah--

Dr. Matchel cried, “These romance novels have done more to undermine women’s rights than any other type of literature.”

“Oh, that’s old-school,” Deborah said. “Like people who think women should only have supported Hillary in 2008.”

Again, Dr. Matchel is quite real. The above exchange is based on an actual exchange I saw on PBS during the 2008 Democratic convention.

Dr. Matchel is off-set by Leslie Quinn, who has the right academic credentials but writes for the popular rather than academic press (i.e. she actually makes money at her writing). Dr. Matchel and Gary's contempt for "popular" writers is, unfortunately, also quite real as is their discomfort with people who haven't jumped through all the right academic hoops (just recently, I've been placed in the uncomfortable position of having to defend my teaching credentials--my expertise of over five years teaching at multiple institutions--against people who automatically devalue adjuncts due to our supposed lack of education classes; yeah, that makes sense).

In the courtroom, there is also a gruff judge (who prefers murder mysteries and is only sitting in judgment on an eighteenth-century novel because so many eighteenth-century novels are under attack), a therapist (member of the Committee for Literary Fairness who wants to personalize everything), and Lonquist, a librarian. Lonquist is a member of Readers for Authorial Intent. His job is to pose (my) objections to literary revisionism. In the following exchange, the Committee for Literary Fairness wants contemporary--that is, their--standards applied to Pamela.

Gary said sullenly, “I would think some contemporary standards would be accepted as givens—in a civilized courtroom, at least.”

“Which contemporary standards?” Lonquist said. “Based on twenty-first-century Western culture, Mr. B can hardly be faulted for wanting no-strings-attached sex.”

The judge barked, “We will use the standard of customs as established in the eighteenth century. Was lesbianism a discussed topic in the literature of the day?”

Dr. Matchel said, “It was a forbidden topic that nevertheless underscored most women’s writings.”

Leslie Quinn said, “No.”

Dr. Matchel bridled. “Of course, popular non-fiction ignores such crucial subtexts.”

Leslie Quinn said good-humoredly, “Oh, I’m not saying that homosexuality wasn’t an aspect of eighteenth-century England or that people never discussed it. I just don’t think eighteenth-century literature is imbued with hidden messages about the love that dare not speak its name. People do write about other things, you know.”

“They were prejudiced,” Gary said.

“So you’ll use eighteenth-century culture to promote your position, then attack it to defend your position?”

The Committee for Literary Fairness glared at Lonquist.

The judge waved a hand, “I’m not concerned with critical theory relativism. I want to know how Mr. B behaved. Please continue, Mr. B.”

The emboldened lines (my emphasis of, um, my text) summarize my problem with most academic silliness. Dr. Matchel and "just call me Gary" Gary are less about reading--letting the characters speak--and more about promoting a particular agenda; less about falling in love with characters, lines, plots, authors, and more about promoting a particular theory which can be applied to current events. They are less about valuing interesting thoughts and ideas and more about categorizing those thoughts and ideas into appropriate, non-appropriate, acceptable, non-acceptable, profound-according-to-us, too-too reactionary categories.

Silly academics is, in other words, about anything but actual books and words.

Not every college/university in infected by this attitude and even within departments that are infected, there are always a few hold-outs. But unfortunately, the attitudes are still there to be spoofed.

I'll leave you to guess what happens to Mr. B (taking into account that I am a romantic).

Thor

So it isn't often that you put in a superhero/action movie and get Shakespeare!

At least, not lately. Actually, Shakespeare explored all the classic action plots! However, superhero/action movies these days tend to involve more bad guys v. good guys story-lines than father-son show-downs. So when I put Thor into the DVD player, the last thing I expected was King Lear with Thor taking the Edgar role and Loki taking the Edmund role.

It's a family drama!

That wasn't the first surprise. The immense Chris Hemsworth (at 6'3," he qualifies as immense) as Thor also surprised me. After all, what is Thor called upon to do or be other than immense-guy-who-smashes-things?

Okay, so the script demands that he undergo a change. At the beginning of the film he is arrogant and lordly and at the end of the film, he is sweet and down-to-earth (ha ha).

What makes Chris Hemsworth (directed by Kenneth Branagh) remarkable is that he is both arrogant/lordly and sweet/down-to-earth right from the beginning. In the beginning, he is arrogant but also guileless and charming (that smile!). At the end, he has been humbled, but he still carries himself like a king. As a result, his growth as a character is believable; as an acting feat, it is more than a little impressive.

I was also impressed by the use of Loki. At first, my reaction was "well, duh, of course Loki is the betrayer," and I was even a little miffed that the scriptwriters were being so obvious. But within thirty minutes or so, I realized that I wasn't sure what Loki would do next. Which is exactly how Loki ought to come across! He's the ultimate ambiguous character, and the writers (and Tom Hiddleston) nailed his attitudes/perspective (by the way, Branagh tends to use his own people in movies when he can; Hiddleston starred with Branagh in Wallander).

I was glad to see more of Agent Coulson whom I really like and who is in Iron Man 2 far less than I'd anticipated. Thor makes up for that lack. My favorite scene with him is when he tells Barton to wait; he wants to see what happens when Thor grips the hammer. (Marvel fans: Is Barton supposed to be the Green Arrow? Or am I getting my franchises confused?)

This brings me to the excellence of Branagh as a director. I wasn't sure if I would see any of Branagh in this movie. Although he does direct epics, they tend to be non-supernatural-elements epics, and I wasn't sure if anything of Branagh could show up in a Marvel movie.

I'm glad to say, his touch is there. Branagh's strength is his ability to pull ordinary human elements out of heroic, Shakespearean moments. Although I knew that Thor wouldn't be able to pick up the hammer (on earth) the first time, I was moved by Barton's caustic but sympathetic remarks, Coulson's willingness to wait (in the rain) for Thor to try, and ultimately, by Thor's weary disbelief at his failure to reclaim his own weapon. Likewise, Odin is fully believable in his defensiveness over Loki's pain while Thor's guilt, confusion, and love towards Loki are heart-wrenchingly authentic.

The music helps! By the way, that's Patrick Doyle whom Branagh almost always uses as his composer.

Oddly enough, the only false note is Natalie Portman. The interactions between her, Darcy, and Selvig are  natural and amusing (and Thor being tasered is one of the funniest parts of the movie), but there simply isn't enough of Thor and Jane together to merit the ending. This is actually a problem in these Marvel movies. So far, no one has really lived up to the "cool girl next door who dates the superhero" persona except Kirsten Dunst (Spiderman) who did it so effortlessly, I keep expecting her to show up again.

I'm really hoping Joss Whedon doesn't spoil the run by killing off a major character in his usual Whedon style. Take a lesson from Branagh, Joss! It is possible (and far more interesting) to create heroic moments without ending a life. (Yes, I'm glad Loki isn't dead.)

The DVD had a preview for Captain America which looks interesting. How does it compare to Iron Man and Thor?

Agatha Christie and the Nature of Evil

On his blog, Eugene argues that although there is a place in fiction for bad guys with no discernible or human motives, "corrupting [the world] using the kind of enlightened people who contribute to PBS and wouldn't be caught dead (or living dead) at McDonald's or Walmart and earnestly believe they're doing the right thing for the greater good (and for your own good) is a much more rewarding challenge."

One of the best short stories ever written about this type of internal corruption is "The Edge" by Agatha Christie. It isn't one of her mystery stories; rather, it is usually found in her ghost/occult short story anthologies and is incredibly creepy.

I will now give away the plot.

In the story, a upright, virtuous, charitable, socially respected, attractive woman, Clare, becomes downright evil.

The corruption begins when she discovers that Vivien, the wife of the man who jilted Clare, is having an affair. Clare decides not to tell him, praising herself for such disinterested goodness (it would only hurt his feelings; she would be telling him for the wrong reasons . . .). Actually, her true motive (or, at least, one of her initial motives) is a sense of power. When Vivien behaves in a catty fashion, Clare lets her know what she knows. She makes Vivien promise to give up the affair for Clare's silence.

Clare is only partly silent, however. She uses subtle, cutting remarks in social settings to remind Vivien what she knows. This goes on for years until Vivien finally persuades the husband to move away. When Clare finds out, she virtuously informs Vivien she can no longer keep silence.

"I daresay it seems very strange to you," said Clare quietly. "But [my reason] honestly is [conscience]."

Vivien's white, set face stared into hers. "I really believe you mean it, too. You actually think that's the reason."

"It is the reason."

"No, it isn't. If so, you'd have done it before. Why didn't you? I'll tell you. You got more pleasure out of holding it over me--that's why."

Despite Vivien's correct surmise, Clare holds to her intent at which point Vivien throws herself off a cliff (it sounds far more dramatic and surprising than written; in the story, Vivien's decision has a dream-like quality: she runs off waving as Clare watches stupefied). Clare goes mad.

Setting aside the initial issue--which isn't really the point--Clare's relishing of power over a single human being in a small village in England is exactly the kind of mundane, petty cruelty that can occur at the purely interpersonal level. It is remarkable storytelling--and proves that while Christie may not have gone in for long exploratory novels regarding human behavior, she certainly understood it very well.

Iron Man 2 and Character Studies

I finally saw Iron Man 2, and I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. It was not at all what I expected.

Series action movies appear to follow a pattern. The first is the background movie, the movie that establishes the hero or heroine's context. Batman Begins, Iron Man, Spiderman, Die Hard, The Matrix, Pirates of the C, Fellowship of the Rings, Star Wars IV, Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Terminator, and Bourne Identity all establish how the main character came to be.

These first movies tend to be tighter than any of the others with strong set-ups and pay-offs. In general, not always, they tend to be the best made (though not always the most interesting).

The second movie falls into one of two categories, being either a movie with bigger guns, bigger suits, bigger action where lots and lots of stuff happens. Or a character study.

In general, I prefer character studies. And a surprising number of sequels to movies in the above list fall into that category.  Spiderman 2 is an exploration of how being a superhero affects Peter Parker's life. Empire Strikes Back is a study of Luke's fears and need to grow in the force. Bourne Supremacy is an exploration of Bourne's desire to understand, and forgive, himself. (I'm skipping The Dark Knight because I just don't know what to make of it.)

And Iron-Man 2 is an unexpected study of Tony Stark's personality. There isn't really a character arc in the sense that Tony changes, but he does come to terms with how much people in his life have tried to help him. The scene with his father (on film) is supremely touching, and Robert Downey, Jr.--like always with Stark--does an excellent job keeping the character consistent (no hugs and tears for this guy) while indicating that he has expanded in self-knowledge (there's a kind of House quality about Stark).

I was very surprised! I had expected big guns, big suits, blah, blah, blah.

Now, there are sequels which fall into the bigger guns, bigger suits, etc. category which do work. The Two Towers (non-extended) is quite a tight little film. Terminator 2 (non-extended) more than adequately continues the story (with a soupcon of character study).

However, despite Hollywood's belief that less doesn't equal more, big guns/big suits/lots of stuff happening sequels tend to be duds. Pirates II is one of the few movies in my entire life that I turned off because I was bored out of my skull. It takes a lot to bore me television/movie-wise (I can always do something else while I'm watching!). The first 45 minutes of Pirates II is shaggy dog story world, only more pointless. Stuff happens to happen. It's tedious.

Likewise, the sequel to Raiders is just a bunch of stuff happening for less than believable reasons.

I would love to say that series which use character studies as their second movie have the best shelf-life, but unfortunately, this isn't true. Star Wars plummeted into abysmality after Empire. Spiderman 3 was a terrible disappointment. On the other hand, Terminator 3, while not one of my favorite films, did hold its own, and the Die Hard series was surprisingly rejuvenated with Live Free or Die Harder. 

All I can say is, I sure hope Avengers doesn't muck up Iron Man's winning streak. (You hear me, Joss Whedon!)