Indiebride | IndieMom Blog

recent posts
----------
Colic and its Discontents
And While I'm Complaining...
For God's Sake, the Kid Will Outgrow It In 10 Minu...
Excavating Snottyness
From the Rafters
Ghost Town
Domestic Fictions
Move Over, Little Ladybug
Post-Patrum Productivity
Nobody's Perfect

Book cover
You've got questions, she's got answers. Be among the first to read Elise Mac Adam's new etiquette guide. Pre-order from:
- Simon & Schuster
- Amazon
- Barnes & Noble

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Beware Babar

Last night I was at a post-elopement party that was, in some ways, more romantic than many weddings I've been to. There was also an "old home week" element to the evening, since many of the people I got to see are folks I see annually at most, usually at less momentous occasion. This was my first post-Felix outing with this crowd and I was overcome by a strange shyness. Since he was at home, I could have tried to "pass" as being unchanged.

I don't know why I was almost inclined not to talk about Felix. In a way, his enormous presence still seems very intimate to me and awkward to mention casually.

In the end, I wasn't coy about Felix, and this made the party something different for me. It wasn't that I had anything more to say, but that my ears were different.

At one point, a conversation about stories opened up. A woman I know was talking about the movies she picks for her preschoolers to watch, and suddenly her husband interrupted: "Have you warned them about Babar?"

This surprised me. Right now Felix has but a single Babar text and it is, Babar's Yoga for Elephants, a present from friends who probably think better of me than they should. I always loved the Babar books, though, and even had a fantastic Babar record album with songs I can still sing (not in public), but apparently I had forgotten the tragedy and violence in the book. My friend's husband reminded me last night that Babar's mother is shot and killed by hunters at the beginning of the story.

Today, now that the haze of Bellinis has worn off, I keep thinking not only about Babar's dead mother, but about all the dead mothers in children's stories. They're legion. From Bambi back to Cinderella and Snow White.

It is late and I should leave off, but I do wonder why it's so important that the mothers die in so many children's stories. Is it because the narrative must derive from extreme despair? Students of folklore must surely have an easy answer, so if you're reading, please do weigh in.

posted by Elise at 8:47 PM

........................................................

5 Comments:

Chloe said...

I would really like to know & will consult my favorite English major & lit expert. We had a similiar discussion a long time ago after watching Batman, but I was only 13 at the time & can't remember our enlightened concensus. Folklore does follow distinct patterns. Someone loaned me a book during grad school by Claude Levi-Stauss that probably had an interesting answer, but I can't remember which volume it was. Hmmm the hunt is on, I love Babar & before I deplete my savings on those books for my son, would like to be able to discuss that issue with him.

11/14/2005 8:09 AM

Sugarmama said...

I'm no student of folklore, but I've noticed that you can't really have an independent, interesting hero in children's literature without the parents being out of the picture. (In many fairy tales, it's often both parents and not just the mother who's missing.) With parents gone, the child-hero is free to do all sorts of things, have all sorts of adventures that they otherwise wouldn't be allowed to have. There's also often a step-parent protagonist, too, isn't there? Of course, fairy tales weren't originally children's stories...

11/14/2005 8:31 AM

Lisa M. said...

It's pervasive, even in newer tales like Lemony Snicket and Harry Potter. It's almost as if the main (child) character cannot have adventures if the parents are there to tell them to be home in time for dinner.

And that said, the first thing we did when playing dress-up and make-believe as kids is announce "Ok, we're orphans!"

11/14/2005 10:06 AM

lisa said...

A mother is the archtypical security figure, and one a child readily relates to. A mother can sooth fear, and banish demons. But a charecter without a mother is completely alone in the world. It is probably one of the only risky situations that a young child can profoundly contemplate--to be motherless.

These stories expose children to fear and stress, but they serve a purpose. In the end the hero survives and triumphs. The child's mind becomes used to the stress/relief pattern, and is more accepting of risk-taking (ie learning) behaviour.

11/14/2005 8:31 PM

Elise said...

These comments only confirm the sense of things forming in my mind that children are really much more tough-hearted than grown-ups.

11/17/2005 5:43 PM

........................................................