‘Brave,’ Pixar’s New Animated Film: Who Needs a Prince When Fun’s Afoot?

From the NYT; full story HERE.

The riotous mass of bouncy curls that crowns Merida, the free-to-be-me heroine of the new Pixar movie, “Brave,” is a marvel of computer imagineering. A rich orange-red the color of ripe persimmon, Merida’s hair doesn’t so much frame her pale, creamy face as incessantly threaten to engulf it, the thick tendrils and fuzzy whorls radiating outward like a sunburst. There’s so much beauty, so much untamed animation in this hair that it makes Merida look like a hothead, a rebel, the little princess who wouldn’t and didn’t. Then again, Rapunzel has a supernice head of hair too.

The riotous mass of bouncy curls that crowns Merida, the free-to-be-me heroine of the new Pixar movie, “Brave,” is a marvel of computer imagineering. A rich orange-red the color of ripe persimmon, Merida’s hair doesn’t so much frame her pale, creamy face as incessantly threaten to engulf it, the thick tendrils and fuzzy whorls radiating outward like a sunburst. There’s so much beauty, so much untamed animation in this hair that it makes Merida look like a hothead, a rebel, the little princess who wouldn’t and didn’t. Then again, Rapunzel has a supernice head of hair too.

It’s easy to see why Merida prefers galloping into the world to sitting pretty at home. Early on there’s a scene in which she jumps in the saddle and races into a wonderland painted green and splashed with purple. She’s a wee thing, about the size of one of Angus’s feathered legs, but her flaming hair and fiery daring — she shoots from the saddle, bull’s-eyeing targets — make her seem bigger. When she takes a breather, surveying the land (this is her land, you sense) while Angus rolls on the grass like a puppy, you see her at peace with herself. It’s a welcome, unusually introspective interlude that slips into the ecstatic when she scrambles up a rock wall and twirls on its summit, laughing, happy, free and alone.

In contrast to Snow White’s stepmother, Elinor isn’t a classic villainess — she’s motivated by clan tradition rather than that great feminine evil: vanity. Yet she effectively performs the same instigating role, pushing the story and her daughter forward. In many respects Elinor is the most complex character in “Brave,” mostly because the filmmakers come across as seriously conflicted about her, presenting her as a model of dignified queenly restraint, then as a killjoy intent on dampening her daughter and husband’s joy — she steps on Fergus’s lines and clucks at his raucous boys-will-be-boys merriment — and finally as a comically unnatural figure of ladylike propriety. (She can be oddly oblivious to her tiny troublemaking sons, a trio who bounce around like the Ritz Brothers.)

At one point Fergus, trying to comfort Elinor, suggests that they engage in role playing, with him pretending to be Merida. “I don’t want to get married,” he announces in falsetto. “I want to stay single and let my hair flow in the wind as I ride through the glen firing arrows into the sunset.” Sounds good to me! It’s the funniest bit in the movie, but also mean and disappointingly telling. Merida doesn’t dream that her prince will come; she doesn’t have to because it’s clear that, within the logic of the movie, the alternative is comically unthinkable. It’s no great surprise that she wins the struggle to determine her fate. But hers is a contingent freedom won with smiles, acquiescence and a literal needle and thread with which she neatly sews up the story, repairing a world where girls and women know exactly where they stand.

How Feminism Begat Intensive Mothering

From Belinda Luscombe at Time Magazine; full story HERE.

Feminism and motherhood have long been cast as feuding sisters, one always attempting to undermine the other. In this calculation, women had to choose between the independence, education and self-expression of the feminist path and the nurture, sacrifice and child-centricity of the family path. The more feminist a woman is, the less appetite, it has been suggested, she will have for mothering.

Ironically, however, the opposite is true.

Women’s rising social and economic power has not squelched their desire to be mothers. Quite the opposite: it has enabled women to mother with ferocity. They research; they seek out best practices; they join a group, form a committee and agitate for their version of feeding/disciplining/sleeping. If you don’t believe me, just visit a breast-feeding support group with former litigators, marketing executives and investment bankers. Reluctant sucklers don’t stand a chance.

(MORE: Confessions of an Accidental Attachment Parent)

At heart, the reality of the feminist revolution was that women could do just about anything. But to get the opportunity to do it, they had to surmount men’s — and other women’s — assumptions. They had to get educated, work hard and exceed the expectations of those around them. And it worked, pretty much.

More women now graduate from college than men. Young working females in dozens of big cities across the country earn more than young working males. A Big Business CEO with ovaries, while not common, is no longer a miraculous being.

But as women have brought more education and commitment to their careers, they have also brought those qualities to their other job: having and raising children. From the labor room onward, women strive to overdeliver. Attachment parenting requires sacrifice, dedication, strategizing and a lot of long hours doing thankless tasks. In other words, it’s exactly like climbing the corporate ladder. Except there is no glass ceiling. Or annual bonus.

(MORE: Parents Do What’s Right for Them, Not for the Kids)

This is not to say that the aims of motherhood and feminism are always in harmony. The affluent, slightly older and well-educated moms who are most likely perusing parenting books like those written by William Sears have already tasted financial independence, self-sufficiency and freedom of movement. They quickly become acutely aware that parenting severely curtails those things. And they want to make their sacrifices mean something. If they’re giving up so much to raise this new human, they’re going to make sure the kid is raised like a blue chip stock price.

Having been urged all their lives to make choices, take charge of their lives and be their best selves, they have become parents reflective of that push. We’ve educated women to forge a new path. Why did we think they’d treat raising children any differently?

A Brief Histroy of Mother’s Day: For Peace and to Celebrate the Strength of Mothers

A history of Mother’s Day from Mother’s Day Central; full story HERE.

A holiday to honor Motherhood can be traced to Europe. It fell on the fourth Sunday of Lent (the 40 days of fasting preceding Easter Sunday). Early Christians initially used the day to honor the church in which they were baptized, which they knew as their “Mother Church.” This place of worship would be decorated with jewels, flowers and other offerings.

In the 1600’s a clerical decree in England broadened the celebration to include real Mothers, referring to the day as Mothering Day. Mothering Day became an especially compassionate holiday toward the working classes of England. During this Lenten Sunday, servants and trade workers were allowed to travel back to their towns of origin to visit their families. Mothering Day also provided a one-day reprieve from the fasting and penance of Lent so that families across England could enjoy a family feast—Mother was the guest of honor. Mothers were presented with cakes and flowers, as well as a visit from their beloved and distant children.

When the first English settlers came to America, they discontinued the tradition of Mothering Day. While the British holiday would live on, the American Mother’s Day would be invented—with an entirely new history—centuries later.

The first North American Mother’s Day was conceptualized with Julia Ward Howe’s Mother’s Day Proclamation in 1870. Despite having penned The Battle Hymn of the Republic 12 years earlier, Howe had become so distraught by the death and carnage of the Civil War that she called on Mother’s to come together and protest what she saw as the futility of their Sons killing the Sons of other Mothers. She called for an international Mother’s Day celebrating peace and motherhood.

Arise all women who have hearts,
Whether your baptism be that of water or of tears
Say firmly:

“We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands shall not come to us reeking of carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of
charity, mercy and patience.

“We women of one country
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”

At one point Howe even proposed converting July 4th into Mother’s Day, in order to dedicate the nation’s anniversary to peace. Eventually, however, June 2nd was designated for the celebration. In 1873 women’s groups in 18 North American cities observed this new Mother’s holiday. Howe initially funded many of these celebrations, but most of them died out once she stopped footing the bill. The city of Boston, however, would continue celebrating Howe’s holiday for 10 more years.

Despite the decided failure of her holiday, Howe had nevertheless planted the seed that would blossom into what we know as Mother’s Day today. A West Virginia women’s group led by Anna Reeves Jarvis began to celebrate an adaptation of Howe’s holiday. In order to re-unite families and neighbors that had been divided between the Union and Confederate sides of the Civil War, the group held a Mother’s Friendship Day. 

After Anna Reeves Jarvis died, her daughter Anna M. Jarvis campaigned for the creation of an official Mother’s Day in remembrance of her mother and in honor of peace. In 1908, Anna petitioned the superintendent of the church where her Mother had spent over 20 years teaching Sunday School. Her request was honored, and on May 10, 1908, the first official Mother’s Day celebration took place at Andrew’s Methodist Church in Grafton, West Virginia and a church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The West Virginia event drew a congregation of 407 and Anna Jarvis arranged for white carnations—her Mother’s favorite flower—to adorn the patrons. Two carnations were given to every Mother in attendance. Today, white carnations are used to honor deceased Mothers, while pink or red carnations pay tribute to Mothers who are still alive. Andrew’s Methodist Church exists to this day, and was incorporated into the International Mother’s Day Shrine in 1962.

In 1908 a U.S. Senator from Nebraska, Elmer Burkett, proposed making Mother’s Day a national holiday at the request of the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA). The proposal was defeated, but by 1909 forty-six states were holding Mother’s Day services as well as parts of Canada and Mexico.

Anna Jarvis quit working and devoted herself full time to the creation of Mother’s Day, endlessly petitioning state governments, business leaders, women groups, churches and other institutions and organizations. She finally convinced the World’s Sunday School Association to back her, a key influence over state legislators and congress. In 1912 West Virginia became the first state to officially recognize Mother’s Day, and in 1914 Woodrow Wilson signed it into national observance, declaring the second Sunday in May as Mother’s Day.

The holiday flourished in the United States and flowers, especially white carnations, became very popular. One business journal, Florists Review, went so far as to print, “This was a holiday that could be exploited.” But the budding commercialization of Mother’s Day greatly disturbed Jarvis, so she vociferously opposed what she perceived as a misuse of the holiday. In 1923 she sued to stop a Mother’s Day event, and in the 1930’s she was arrested for disturbing the peace at the American War Mothers group. She was protesting their sale of flowers. In the 1930’s Jarvis also petitioned against the postage stamp featuring her Mother, a vase of white carnations and the word “Mother’s Day.” Jarvis was able to have the words “Mother’s Day” removed. The flowers remained. In 1938, Time Magazine ran an article about Jarvis’s fight to copyright Mother’s Day, but by then it was already too late to change the commercial trend.

In opposition to the flower industry’s exploitation of the holiday, Jarvis wrote, “What will you do to route charlatans, bandits, pirates, racketeers, kidnappers and other termites that would undermine with their greed one of the finest, noblest and truest movements and celebrations?” Despite her efforts, flower sales on Mother’s Day continued to grow. Florist’s Review wrote, “Miss Jarvis was completely squelched.”

Anna Jarvis died in 1948, blind, poor and childless. Jarvis would never know that it was, ironically, The Florist’s Exchange that had anonymously paid for her care.