Coraline

4 Mar 2009 reviews 0 Comments

A month ago, I decided I needed to immerse myself in the world of children’s literature.  Today, I feel…different–or perhaps, indifferent.  Or maybe it’s more a sense of sufficiency; what I know right now is enough–IF my goal is simply to create, not compete.  It’s a lot of work, trying to read all the blogs and follow all the threads and keep up with the various list servs…and for what?  I don’t necessarily feel more included in “the community,” more aware of (or invested in) the endless “issues,” or more satisfied with what I’ve learned.  If anything, I feel more frustrated and excluded.  But, as Coraline discovers, belonging isn’t something that others can give you–it’s something you have to claim for yourself, and the grass is rarely greener once you travel down the rabbit’s hole.  Today I woke up and decided to go see Coraline.  I don’t know much about Neil Gaiman, I haven’t read the book, and I hadn’t really read any reviews about the movie.  But it looked intriguing, and full of curiosities…I’m not really into frivolous things, but I do love intricate things–hand-crafted dolls, music boxes, gadgets, wind-up toys.  Basically, I love illusions AND the bits and pieces that make machines go.  Coraline promised to have all of those elements, and nothing’s more indulgent than an 11:30am matinee!  I was slightly disturbed to find a beer-bellied man munching on popcorn when I arrived at the theatre; another man came in just as the movie started, but I decided to think of them as animation fans rather than potential perverts…I forgot about them completely once the movie began, and marveled at the magical world created by the filmmakers.  It wasn’t a Disneyworld filled with glitter and stardust, however–it was murky, swampy, muddy, and somewhat bleak.  Coraline herself wasn’t especially likable, the cat was mangy, and I found myself sympathizing with her parents (busy writers who are annoyed by her needs).  The animation is extraordinary, and most of the time I couldn’t tell whether I was looking at a puppet, claymation, animation, or what…which is the point of going to the movies–you aren’t supposed to look for the strings, you’re supposed to surrender to the magical world laid out before you.  The story dragged a bit at times, and it’s definitely got some sinister undertones about women–I was particularly struck by the way women’s bodies in the film are distorted to look pornographic or bug-like: the evil “other mother” devolves from a smiling, wide-hipped Suzy Homemaker type into a skeletal, wasp-waisted, spindly-legged spider.  But right from the start, my imagination was “lit”–I haven’t written anything “fun” in a long time…lately it’s been academic papers, which aren’t awful, but there’s not much room for magic…the film opens with the complicated stitching of a doll, and that made me think immediately of artist/designer/illustrator Cozbi A. Cabrera–Shadra visited Cozbi’s boutique last week and said it was “magical.”  So now I’m obsessed with writing a story about dolls, and a special boutique–what do children NEED from dolls?  What would be missing from a child’s life that she might hope a doll could replace?  Dolls are always complicated for people of color because we don’t generally look like Barbie–NO ONE looks like Barbie–and until recently, black dolls haven’t been available in a range of shapes, sizes, and colors (many are just Barbies dipped in brown paint).  But I don’t want to write about that–I want to do something other-worldly, not “postblack,” but in a space where blackness can be taken for granted.  Of course, I’m supposed to be grading papers and working on a conference presentation that’s due Friday…but Coraline’s got me going…

 

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