New pre-code film favorite!

I've been aching to watch more classic films lately. I don't have cable, so I can't access Turner Classic movies, and Netflix's selection of classic films is appallingly bad.

I have to find ones that are in the public domain and available to stream on YouTube, which narrows my selection down quite a bit. I'm not going to find any Clark Gable or Jean Harlow films in those parameters.

I ended up watching one called Young Bride from 1932. The opening scene takes place in a library, so I was interested in watching more. There's even a funny little aside in which a male patron comes in asking for an illustrated copy of Aphrodite. Upon hearing his request, the female library paige gasps and covers her mouth as she scurries on with her cart; the spinster librarian replies that the book is not currently in publication.  After a bit of research, I found out that this is referencing Pierre Louys' Aphrodite: moeurs antiques, published in 1896. The book was banned in 1929 by the United States Customs Bureau for being "lewd, corrupting and obscene," probably due to the lesbian relationships and "unrestricted sensuality among women."

From there, we cut to the children's room, where a pretty women is showing a miniature village to two children, and pointing out where all the fairytale characters such as Rapunzel and Peter Pan live.

So far the movie contained a library, banned books and a children's librarian who loves fairy tales and miniature renderings of them.

WHY DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS MOVIE UNTIL NOW?!?!?!?!

I was so happy in my new discovery that I can easily overlook the old spinster librarian trope. Librarians seem to be akin to nuns in 1930's and 40's films; remember George Bailey's horror at that alternate fate for Mary in It’s a Wonderful Life?

The story line isn't highly original; Good Girl falls for Bad Boy type of romance. The plot is reminiscent of No Man of Her Own, which is also from 1932. That movie must've had a much bigger budget for casting because Carole Lombard plays the librarian and Clark Gable plays the gangster.

I thought from the beginning that Eric Linden, who portrays the love interest, is a poor man's James Cagney and come to find out he actually plays Cagney's brother in Big City Blues (1932). The protagonist Allie is played by Helen Twelvetrees. I admit I'd never heard of her before, but from now on I'll be looking for more pre-code movies featuring her.

Not That There's Anything Wrong with That

Whenever I tell people I work in a library, they often reply with something along the lines of "Oh, that must be great! So do you just get to sit around and read all day?"

That always makes me laugh.  I don't even know how to reply to that question. Library jobs are so diverse, and have evolved so much to fit the needs of public/elementary/college/legal/film/corporate/medical/federal/theological/etc. libraries but the job description still gets reduced to that singular aspect.

I was scrolling through our library's Instagram history today, and I am so happy to see that our photos capture all the different types of responsibilities and tasks we undertake on a daily basis. If I just sat around reading all day, I wouldn't have time to:

set up displays that promote literature discussions

supervise our awesome library helpers

buy books for the library, and get them autographed!

take care of our two resident library bunnies

manage art supplies

fundraise for the library (with the book fair)

set up obstacle courses for our Hunger Games party

appreciate middle schoolers, and the things they think of/draw

write on bathroom mirrors with lipstick

what's your best guess?

These photos only show the last couple of months; there's so much more that goes on.

So for the official record: "NO- I DON'T just sit around and read all day."

Wanted: Dead or In Love

I was drawn to this book because the description immediately tapped into my passion for classic film. (The protagonist's name is Monroe, "as in Marilyn"). It's no news to anyone that classic film is my own kind of catnip. It's refreshing to find a YA novel that features a female protagonist who has a different kind of interest. I first became enamored with old movies when I was a pre-teen, and it was difficult for me to relate this to anyone my own age. Anytime I wanted to talk about another old movies I'd watched, I'd ask my grandmother about it. Even now as an adult, I know very few other adults who have a similar interest in it. I give credit to an author who creates a protagonist whose passion for vintage Hollywood and history drives the story forward, rather than just serving as a quirk that alienates her from her peers.

I think the cover definitely hints at a YA story, but I think it could have better represented the narrative if it included a better look at Monroe. Early on, she reveals that she has her hair dyed black and cut into a short flapper style, so perhaps a model with a Louise Brooks-type look, and a photograph which shows us more than one eye and part of her hand would have been more interesting.

The story draws on the glamour of doomed romance that is frequently found in pre-code films during Hollywood's Golden Age. These films are not (usually) a show of feminist ideals; the women are shown in slinky satin nighties, falling prey to men that they know are no good but loving every minute of it and frequently playing damsels in distress and/or shrieking drama queens.

But check out this fun video montage (set to a Madonna tune!) of women in pre-code films:

The romance of classic film is brought to life (literally) with the infamous Bonnie and Clyde, who have been resurrected in spirit form and take over the bodies of Monroe and her new friend Jack.

The premise of the book was unique enough to draw me in, but I quickly tired of the cliche gangster speak of the reincarnated Bonnie, who lives inside Monroe's thoughts and taunts her.

The chapters that are focalized through Clyde (who inhabits Jack's thoughts, and quickly learns how to control him) are more tolerable. Maybe it's because he is characterized in the manner of an old film star, such as Clark Gable or James Cagney. He loves the ladies: he loves to love them, and he loves to hate them. Kiss em', or slap 'em or if all else fails, grab a grapefruit:

I love the originality of this book, but I really wish that Bonnie had more to say than quips such as "I ain't no squealer" and "He's my man."

I wrote earlier that pre-code Hollywood isn't a shining picture of modern feminism, but I guess that really depends on one's own perception of what feminism should be. If you think that a woman's sexuality should be at her disposal to use as she likes in plays of power, then some of these films might hold up to that. But none of these women are CEO's in power suits. Bonnie Parker matches that description a little more closely based on her notoriety and her influence and the threat she posed to The Man. Therefore, she really should have had more to say, especially as she was transplanted into 2014; she skipped right over second wave feminist age into the third! Although come to think of it, maybe Bonnie wouldn't have been concerned with reproductive rights or workplace inadequacies.  .  .

After all, Clyde (inhabiting Jack's body) seems to adapt pretty well to 2014. He figures out how use cell phone and credit cards, and gives Monroe the nickname Twinkle, after the diamond stud she wears above her lip. The contrast of it along with Bonnie's lines make her very one dimensional.

I kept reading mainly because I wanted to see what would happen to Clyde. I have a penchant for horror, ghosts and gore but it was really more of a history nerd kind of paranormal romance.

Inspiration

OK, I'm going to say this, even if it makes me sound crazy.

I hear voices. Not only do I hear them, I listen to them.

They tell me their names. What they like. If they're lonely. If they're happy.

For example, I recently started hearing Edmund Applebaum. He's a professor of literature. He lives alone with his cat Winston, but he doesn't mind. He always has a good book to read and a notebook to write in. His little cottage is the only one in the woods, but it's the best place to watch the seasons change.

Edmund Applebaum is a doll that lives in a dollhouse I made. For the record, he doesn't actually talk to me, but my mind creates a story just by working on that little dollhouse. I'm sure JK Rowling heard plenty from Harry Potter before she wrote the first page, so that makes me feel a bit less crazy. It's like writing a book.

This dollhouse had been in my parents basement for years, and I finally brought it home with me. As soon as I started working on it again, I got a picture in my mind of a quaint little cottage, sitting in the middle of an autumn wood .  .  .the air outside is getting colder as winter approaches, and the windows have a layer of frost on them, and gives the light that radiates from the little house a translucent glow, inviting you in.

Edmund spends most of his time thinking, pondering, wondering and dreaming, and Winston the cat is the same way; he's too busy looking out the window to hunt the mouse that's under the stove.

Why am I blogging about this? Because the creative potential of the human mind amazes me. I didn't have to research this, or struggle to build it. There was no outline or plan in front of me. Nobody asked me to do this. I just did it. I can't even explain exactly how all this unfolded before me.

How does a composer hear the music before he's written it? How does an author create entire backstories for characters when they haven't even picked up a pen yet? The process is different for everyone, but the process isn't even the part I'm talking about right now, I'm talking about that mysterious part before we even embark on the creative process. The spark of inspiration.

Why does one thing ignite a creative fire in some, while others don't even have match to spare?

I look at a cardboard box, and I can immediately see it as Peter Rabbit's home in 1:12 scale. Others might see something else, or maybe they just see a box. I don't know what they see because I can only see through my own mind's eye. Someone else might see an afghan or a pair of mittens when they look at a skien of yarn, but for me it's just colored string.

It has happened that I have a cardboard box/dollhouse/structure/other item that I know I need because it will be integral in some brilliant exploit, but I don't know exactly how yet. That's torturous. But, I try to have faith in the concept of inspiration, knowing that it can hit at any moment.

Cardboard Box Becomes Rabbit Burrow

Just a little update on my latest literary-inspired dollhouse.

Months ago, I was musing about which story to try recreating next, and my husband suggested Peter Rabbit. I thought it was a great idea, but I didn't have the opportunity to start until August.

In August, I went to a workshop about makerspaces in libraries, and as a part of the workshop we 'tinkered' about with different materials, experimenting. I really wanted to run right over to the cardboard station, because I'm already pretty adept at transforming cardboard boxes into 1:12 scenes. BUT, I forced myself to try something new, since that was the whole point of the workshop, and of makerspaces. I started off with squishy circuits (wires, lightbulbs, batteries and conductive playdough) and then I moved onto the sewing machine station. Afterwards, I felt it was OK to return to a medium I'm already comfortable with.

I couldn't do much during the workshop day, but I reinforced the cardboard sides of the box, and used crumpled newspaper to start shaping the inside walls of the burrow. Later at home, I used plaster cloth and paint and spackle on top of the newspaper.

Since August, I've been working on it whenever I get a chance, and it's finally starting to match my original vision.

Just yesterday, Peter Rabbit, his mother Josephine, and the young Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail arrived. Peter is already getting into mischief in Mr. McGregor's garden:

It's a good thing his mother has some camomile tea ready:

I love making these miniature scenes and dollhouses that are based on stories. It allows me experiences the stories I love in a new way, making my own adjustments or additions. It's kind of like fanfiction. Sometimes I think they're a waste of time and money because they really don't serve much of a purpose- but I can't stop making them.

I recently stocked up on Halloween miniatures that were on clearance because I'd like to do a Nightmare Before Christmas scene eventually, and just the other day I thought it'd be fun to do an Alice in Wonderland scene.  .  .

What am I going to do with all these dollhouses and roomboxes? 

Everything Counts

“In order to be really good as a librarian, everything counts towards your work, every play you go see, every concert you hear, every trip you take, everything you read, everything you know. I don’t know of another occupation like that. The more you know, the better you’re going to be.” -Allen Smith

This is a fantastic quote, and it describes perfectly why I love my job.

Often, a job evokes certain images, stereotypes and assumptions. For example, my roommate when I was in grad school (the first time) lamented that people had such a narrow view of her major. She earned her Bachelor's of Fine Arts, and whenever she told people that she was an art major, they'd say something like "Oh, you want to be a famous artist?". That's like assuming that someone who majors in Literature intends to write the next great American novel. Sure it's a possibility, but there's a vast scope of possibilities that can come from that choice of major.

Similarly, when I tell people that I work in a school library, they probably conjure up images of me reading aloud from a picture book, and shushing students, and in fact I rarely do either. My chosen job has me performing a number of responsibilities in different roles; saying that I enjoy my job simply because "I like to read" is a huge understatement. My job is not one dimensional, and neither am I.

I love that all of my interests and talents can converge and work together, like cogs in a clock. When I watch the 1940 rendition of Little Men, not only am I indulging my passion for classic film. But I'm also adding to my knowledge of Louisa May Alcott, her body of work, transcendental themes in American literature, and cinematic techniques in Hollywood's Golden Age. When I take a day trip to Littleton, I'm absorbing the atmosphere, but also thinking about how this town and its native author Eleanor Hodgman Porter are responsible for the classic story Pollyanna, and educating myself on New Hampshire state history.When I create Peter Rabbit's burrow in 1:12 scale, I'm not just making another dollhouse, I'm tinkering with different materials and engaging in a trial and error learning approach. If something doesn't hold together or achieve the look I'm striving for, I'll try a different technique. That's the philosophy that serves as the basis for the new Makerspace revolution.

I love that every NPR program I listen to, blog I subscribe to, movie I watch and new place I explore are informing my chosen career.

It's not reasonable to expect every librarian to know the answer to every possible question, but I do think that a librarian should have enough diverse interests and knowledge in different areas to be able to help patrons/students with any type of request.

Halloween with Paddington Bear

I try to keep this blog professional, but every once in a while I have to do the obligatory Proud Mom post. This was Baby J's first Halloween. Halloween is my favorite holiday, so I was glad to dress him up in costumes and take him trick or treating a few times.

We'd had his costume since before he was born. My 

godmother sent me a Paddington Bear outfit while I was pregnant. She also included some little yellow welies, but they were too big for his feet. These boots are actually from one of the Paddington bears in his room.

It was fitting that he'd be dressed as Paddington for his first Halloween; Paddington Bear has been kind of a theme for us for the past couple of years. When we took our honeymoon to the British Isles, we had to stop in Paddington station. I had to see the statue and go in the gift shop, where I learned the difference between a true British Paddington, and an American one. Good diplomatic relations made the two types acceptable, but there was a big problem with Paddington pirates:

An ad from 1975

 I brought my own (American, but official) Paddington with us on the trip. He became kind of a mascot for us, and every place we went, we bought a pin to put on his coat. He even got his own miniature Paddington bear (very meta).

So even though it's not Thursday, here's a throwback to 2013:

I'mnot sure when or if I'll ever get back to merry old England, but in the meantime "It's nice having a bear about the house."