fairytale

Sharanam

priyanka — Fri, 05 Nov 2010 16:00:00 +0000

With the release of Sharanam Sharon Gannon adds another dimension to her body of work as a yogi, inspirational figure, and advocate of compassionate lifestyles. I have encountered Gannon’s philosophy and teachings in YouTube videos, web and magazine articles, on her website, and in a documentary on raw foods, and have always found myself appreciative of the contribution she makes towards a more peaceful and spiritually grounded world. This musical dimension, unfortunately, fell flat for this eager listener.

Being a frequent listener of sacred mantras set to modern beats, I fully expected to adore Sharanam. The cover artwork was done in sepia tones and portrays a tree-hugging Gannon looking very fairytale goth, with long black hair and ground-sweeping lacy white dress. My hopes for edgy renditions of mantras "Lokah Samastah," "Hare Krishna," and "Om Shantih" were further raised. Yet three of the eight tracks are different mixes of "Lokah Samastah," and even the upbeat version, for which I had the highest hopes, didn’t quite transcend the tranquilizing New Age tempo and high-pitched breathy vocal quality that has earned the genre a somewhat marginalized status among contemporary music.

The first rendition of "Lokah Samastah" begins with a compelling intro: spare, electronic, heartbeat-style percussion overlays Gannon’s voice heartfully calling out. I felt some tingles of excitement and anticipation here. Background vocals (belonging to David Life, Gannon’s partner and Jivamukti co-founder) are introduced along with keyboard-generated effects, which are referred to in the liner notes as "High Techo Sound"). The entire mantra "Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhav Antu" (which roughly translates to “may all beings be happy and free”) is repeated by both vocalists as an upbeat drum track is added in. The nearly seven-minute track totally loses me after the five-minute mark when the mix dissolves into a very slow duet. My interest is lost not for poor composition or performance, but slow, dreamy songs, especially with slow dreamy vocals, have never been my thing.

I wish I could say it got better for me from here. Track two, "Guruji," is a mix of keyboard, drum tracks, and the swirling sounds of a theremin. The more than fourteen-minute soprano rendition of "Hare Krishna" was also a deal-breaker for my ears. Never once was I inspired to dance, nor did I feel elevated to a higher spiritual plane, relaxed into a meditative state, or carried away in musical appreciation.

The healing and peaceful intention that Gannon evidently puts forth with Sharanam, and the meaning behind the lyrics used in each song, are powerful, beautiful, and positive. Mantras are said to open the heart and mind and to exert both healing and enlightening powers. Unfortunately for this seeker of peace, love, and awareness, the aesthetic of Sharanam turned me off so that the meaning behind the songs was lost.

Written by: Matsya Siosal, November 5th 2010

Horse, Flower, Bird: Stories

priyanka — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Kate Bernheimer

Coffee House Press

Full of self-pity and self-loathing, Kate Bernheimer’s stories in Horse, Flower, Bird are not all of what being a girl is about. This is essential to remember, because fairytales, for all their unnecessarily flowery language and lurid fantasy, taught us all who to be. Fairytales, like the more adult fables, are instructional devices; stay away from the woods, do not talk to strangers, truth and love will prevail… As corny as they always are, they imbue us with an elementary moral compass. It was their function and their rationale, it is why parents allow their children to watch Sleeping Beauty a million times into the wee hours of the night. However Bertheimer's fairytales, while unconventional and enticing, do not convey any distinct moral messages. They are enchanting stories, but not fairytales; there is nothing to be learned from them. They are simply fantastical.

Each story reveals a different experience of the world. They convey a distinct approach to, and perception of, reality. One from the point of view of an autistic person, for example, another from that of a tulip bulb. Each of the central characters is distinguishably female, not only by the pronouns used but by the point of view on the universe—as a sister or daughter.

The experiences of the characters are amplified by the subtle touch of the Southern Gothic Bertheimer infuses into her tales: The ironic views of the love/hate relationship between sisters related in “A Star Wars Tale”, the sardonic liberation of the exotic dancer in “A Cageling Tale” and the supernaturally natural reality of autism in “A Garibaldi Tale.” It is worth remembering, however, in drawing the comparison, that Southern Gothic writings were often unforgiving of the women they portrayed.

Thinking of the Fall of the House of Usher, womanhood is not a flattering state of affairs; Berthimer's characters are perhaps closer to the women of The Glass Menagerie in character—not malicious but pitiable, and in this case pitied even by the author. You would not care to be in any of these stories, and worse, you do not learn from them as from their ostensible peers in either genre associated with them. They are well written little pieces, but they leave you reaching for Poe or the Brothers Grimm instead.

Written by: Elisheva Zakheim, October 22nd 2010

Ondine

admin — Fri, 07 May 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Directed by Neil Jordan

Magnolia Pictures

Ireland's coast with its cloudy allure and spectacular beauty provides a considerable level of mystic in Colin Farrell's latest film. Ondine tells the story of fisherman Syracuse (Farrell) after he catches a woman in his nets. She miraculously chokes and stammers back to consciousness to both her and his surprise. Her entrance into his life sets off a series of events altering their lives in unimaginable ways.

Syracuse's daughter, Annie, is convinced the woman (Ondine) is a Silkie, a mythical creature from the sea. Her enduring belief in the fantasy begins to affect both Syracuse and Ondine. The two begin a romance that adds to the dreamlike feeling of the story, until reality literally crashes in on them. It doesn't seem clear if everyone will live happily ever after or not.

Writer/Director Neil Jordan did an excellent job scouting the location for the film. From the opening scenes of the film the Irish landscape took on a character all its own. The green hills combined with the haunting look of the sea combine to create a feeling of enchantment.

References to various well-known fairytales were not subtle throughout the script. Mermaids, Snow White, and Alice and Wonderland were all mentioned to make sure the audience understands the fictitious premise of the film. Even the villain enters like a bogeyman with ominous music playing when we first see him.

I'm not convinced we need another fairytale-meets-real-life movie. Especially one that follows the formula of a woman being put in danger because of a man and then said woman is saved by a man. This type of plot line puts the title character into a passive role that depends on the actions of the male characters. Ondine continues to perpetuate the illusion that if a woman finds the right man everything will work out for the best.

Adding to the damsel in distress scenario, Ondine portrays a sexualized innocence. This is made clear in one scene when she is frightened while steering the boat. She hunkers down in a ball and reaches a bare leg for the steering wheel. We see Syracuse watching her from a camera angle aimed through her legs in an attempt to be sensual, but it left me feeling uncomfortable. Her fear was apparent, which doesn't seem like a great time to emphasize her sexual appeal.

A truly bright spot in the film is Annie. She suffers from kidney failure and is sometimes relegated to a wheelchair. Despite these setbacks, her spirit is full and strong making her the character to admire. She exhibits independence and curiosity that is often stifled in young girls. It is her tenacity that kept me interested in the progression of the film. Alison Barry, the young actress who played Annie, did an amazing job, especially considering this was her first film.

Although I'm not overly enthusiastic about the premise of the film, I do think it was well made. The setting and some of the performances keep Ondine from drowning. However, I recommend waiting for the DVD and watching the film when you are in the mood for fantasy.

Ondine recently premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival and will be out in limited release June 4th.

Written by: Andrea Hance, May 7th 2010

Baba Yaga Laid an Egg

admin — Sat, 03 Apr 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Dubravka Ugresic

Canongate

When she sleeps, her nose scrapes the ceiling of her small cottage. Her breasts hang from a pole over the fireplace, and she has a leg made of iron. She lives alone in a hut on chicken legs, and her gates are topped with human skulls. Passing heroes can flatter her and order her to do their bidding, but heroines must serve her in order to win her favor. Baba Yaga, a complicated crone from Central and Eastern European mythology, is a theme explored and exploded in Dubravka Ugresic's Baba Yaga Laid an Egg.

The novel has three parts, all set in Central and Eastern Europe. In the first, a woman deals with her aging mother's increasing senility and travels to their hometown in search of memory and meaning. In the second, three old women visit a health resort to relax and rejuvenate; romance and death follow. The final part is a meta-level, scholarly treatise of Baba Yaga written written from the perspective of a minor character in the first story and as though a folklorist had teased out all the feminine symbols woven throughout the previous two stories.

Baba Yaga Laid an Egg is an exploration of women growing older in a post-Soviet state where distance between people is becoming the norm. Like Baba Yaga, the older women in these stories are dealing with their aging bodies, are often alone or isolated, and are frequently misunderstood, though they help or hinder other characters as they please. While these women are marginalized, they are definitely not powerless. They have the power to transform lives, and this is usually done through wealth they've accumulated during their younger years.

At its core, this is a book about women, bodies, and journeys. While Baba Yaga Laid an Egg is a thicket of fairytale symbols and references to life in the former Soviet bloc, it can be enjoyed by those who don't have a prior interest in either fairytales or the locale. Ugresic is a clever writer who shows in this book that imaginary lands are dangerous places and little old ladies aren't as toothless as they may appear.

Written by: Catherine Nicotera, April 2nd 2010

Dowaha (Buried Secrets)

admin — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 09:00:00 +0000

Directed by Raja Amari

Nomadis Images

Dowaha (Buried Secrets) is the second feature film by Tunisian director Raja Amari. The film follows the story of Aicha, a teenage girl who lives with her spinster sister and older mother in the basement of a crumbling, abandoned mansion in a remote area. The women are hiding from something unknown and live in a different reality of total seclusion, other than the occasional trip into town to sell piecework at a fabric shop. One day, the family's secluded existence is disrupted when a young couple moves into the main part of the mansion. The women remain in their hiding spot and continue living the way they had been without revealing themselves to the couple, but Aicha becomes hopelessly fascinated with them.

The film is a coming of age, feminist thriller that kept me interested the entire way through. It is also a story of the contradictions between tradition and the modern world, and what it means to be a girl and to become a woman. Aicha is desperate for the world of high heels and lipstick, while her mother and sister do everything in their power to keep her from it.

The plot of Dowaha is evocative of classic fairytales, but without the happy ending. Interestingly, it is not the outside world that Aicha must fear, but her mother and sister who are wicked and intent on keeping her (and themselves) prisoner. The film's crumbling palatial setting and its rich, vibrant colors are aesthetically pleasing and give it a feeling of being set in another world during another time.

Written by: Liz Simmons, March 13th 2010

Revenge of the Mooncake Vixen

admin — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 00:54:00 +0000

By Marilyn Chin

W.W. Norton

Forget fairytales and fables that threaten rape and violence to women who go off the beaten path, deny their parents, or refuse to marry. Marilyn Chin's novel, Revenge of the Mooncake Vixen, doesn't lock away its female protagonists into a tower so a prince can climb up their hair and doesn't ask the women to honor and obey their parents. Instead, Chin's twin protagonists are riot grrrls of the immigrant set: they take on everything from gender and sexuality to Chinese mythology and the immigrant experience.

Duality is a central component to the book: the sisters at the heart of the stories are like night and day. It's no coincidence that the sisters – Moonie and Mei Ling – are known as "double happiness." There is the hypersexualized sister, and there is the asexual sister: each is as wild as they are rebellious. Mei Lin throws herself into fling after fling as she makes deliveries for her family’s restaurant while her sister rips her away from too-willing American men again and again. Here, the contradictions of stereotypes are thrown into the face of the reader. The Madonna/Whore dichotomy was never so smartly articulated.

Chin is not unaware of what is at stake for her protagonists. Their boldness is spoken of when Chin writes of Mei Lin's reckless promiscuity: "It could ultimately mean the death of your tribe and your people." The children of immigrants often have high expectations to fulfill. They must honor their cultures and succeed in a new world. The tongue-in-cheek statement certainly has some levity behind it: Failure is not an option for the first generation child.

Chin drives the stake through the heart of the matter when describing the twins' reaction to a fellow first generation immigrant, Donny Romero: "Now he's on the East Coast studying art at Yale. How spoiled is that? First-generation immigrant and he gets to study art." While the girls rage and rebel against this expectation, they do indeed fall into it. They become the Ivy League successes predicted by their family and by the world around them.

The collection's only misstep is that the narrators, and consequently Chin, sometimes seem too pleased with themselves. Chin knows what she's doing, and like the adventurous Mei Ling, she seemingly has so much pushing the envelope that the message of the pieces is sometimes drowned out by the volume of the sexual escapades and wink-wink criticism of assimilation. For example, "Wiping One's ass with the Sutras" would be more than fine, but when coupled again and again with sexually explicit language, the rebellion at the heart of the collection is dulled because the nail is hit one too many times. The profanity is meant to jolt the reader, but without some relief from the jolting, the risk is desensitization.

The growing pains of the Chinese immigrant experience are bursting at the seams. These twins do not reject their heritage; they simply poke holes through its hypocrisies. These sisters do not blindly accept American culture, and mock its excesses. These are the new stories of the immigrant nation. It's no accident that the restaurant owned by the twins' family is called Double Happiness. Here, making one's way means working hard, sacrificing, and forging a path to the Ivy League schools, something the twins expect as much as the mooncakes they deliver. These vixens rebel and buck and crow against expectations: this "double happiness" of living in a new land with old world expectations. The twins make their own path without rejecting the history, expectations, and hopes of their family.

Chin does not offer a happily-ever-after-type ending nor does she offer a tragedy. Instead, the twins play in murky water and shed new light on old struggles.

Written by: Lisa Bower, January 17th 2010

A Narrative Compass: Stories That Guide Women’s Lives

admin — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 09:26:00 +0000

Edited by Betsey Hearne, Roberta Seelinger Trites

University of Illinois Press

When I read the back cover of A Narrative Compass, I thought it might be something nice to read before going to bed at night, and luckily, I was right. The texts this collection contains are great bedtime stories: attention grabbing, short, and self-contained. Reading it is a little bit like having all of your closest friends over for a gathering to talk about the stories you treasure from your youth, and how they have influenced you. The amazing women who have contributed to this collection often share stories so intimate, that they will shock you with their sincerity.

According to Betsey Hearne and Roberta Seelinger Trites’ introduction, the aim of the collection is to begin answering the following questions: “why storytelling is important to women, why storytelling is often gendered as a female discipline, and why we think narrative compasses have particularly important methodological consequences for women scholars.” This is an ambitious goal, but one that they seem to have gotten a good response to, judging by the selection of authors whom they have included. The theorizing will have to be left to a later date (luckily!) since introspection seems to be the order of the day and overarching theme of the texts included.

The nineteen contributors are all professors or students from a wide variety of fields. Every author takes up the editors’ challenge of showing and writing about her intimate narrative compass in a different manner and style. It is quite amazing to see how much thought has been put into these texts and this makes the collection quite unique and very pleasant to read. The compilation is divided into three parts called “Finding the Compass,” “Literary and Critical Directions,” and “Escaping Home, Finding Home.” These distinctions are not really important because as one reads through the book one realizes that each individual narrative is a self-contained entity.

As for the diverse narrative compasses, Karen Coat’s very introspective piece is often witty as she applies Lacan’s theoretical tenets to her developing relationship with her daughter Emily, who was born with Down’s Syndrome. Claudia Quintero Ulloa applies melodrama to her own life story as she depicts the past generations of strong females in her family (even including a family tree) and analyzes these women’s expression of emotion only while watching telenovelas. In Seelinger Trites’s piece, she reveals her own tumultuous trajectory through academia and finds analogous moments in Jo March’s nonconformist life from Little Women. Deyonne Bryant parallels her chosen path (both gendered and racialized) with that of the fictional Mary Jane from Dorothy Sterling’s 1959 novel about two black students entering an all-white school. Cindy L. Christiansen transforms her father’s sudden death when she was four years of age into a Nancy Drew-style mystery which she tries to solve in her essay. Joanna Hearne and Minjie Chen both construct the stories of their own families through recuperation of folktales of their youth and recording the stories of their elders.

Other books and authors examined in this anthology include: A Passage to India, The Teachings of Don Juan, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, The Secret Garden, the Nancy Drew series, The Bible, Lucy Maud Montgomery, Laura Ingalls Wilder, traditional Chinese texts, and many fairy tales. Any passionate reader will find something to their liking in this collection which guarantees many “me too!” moments.

Written by: Sophie M. Lavoie, July 21st 2009