Friday, July 22, 2016
Helen On The Run: The Lost Years
I have been getting this story ready to publish for close to a year, but it looks as though it will take at least a year more. It is fairly long: close to 60 thousand words, and unlike the other Helen episodes it has a definite plot, and a sort of an ending. True to form, the things I like about it are how it illuminates the character of Helen, and the characters of the children. By the end of this story, Helen has given birth to her youngest, James, her only natural-born child. The others, the three girls, are all adopted. We also see the circumstances that lead to the middle girl, Erin, being taken into Helen's family. Oh, it is a lovely story, possibly the most likable story of all the Helen episodes, to abuse a word.
Synopsis
Helen and her partner of the moment, Michelle, come under scrutiny from a state agency that oversees the welfare of adopted children, which has been subverted. Succumbing to pressure from certain conservative citizens, the agency takes the children into custody. The women are devastated. It is halfway through the winter semester, and Helen, though sunk deep in depression, cannot bring herself to stop working on her courses, but she gets psychological counseling. Her friends urge her to travel to Rhode Island to attend a national meeting, at which she presents some work she has been doing. She meets a young man there, Jeffrey Gibson, whom she invites to Philadelphia on the spur of the moment. Some weeks later, he takes up the offer, and spends a weekend with Helen and Michelle.
Just as Helen and Michelle are about to give in to total despair, Gena and Alison run away from the foster home, and manage to run back home to Helen, Gena pushing Alison in a stroller. The women, taken totally by surprise, decide that the best thing to do is for Helen and the children to go into hiding. The first half of the story is about how Helen, with some interesting help from a wonderful woman named Penny, manage to stay alive, and even give the children a degree of happiness and normalcy. Helen has gone back into housing construction, as a carpenter and electrician. Michelle escapes surveillance and joins Helen, but is picked up by the FBI while waitressing, and Helen has a narrow escape.
Helen is pregnant, and as she begins to show, it blows her cover. Michelle is taken in, and placed in a house in the Sacramento area owned by Helen, presumably as bait for Helen. Helen decides to seek shelter with her mother's family, in St. Paul, MN, where she is unexpectedly offered a teaching job in a private school. Her pregnancy is a good disguise, but the school administration has taken a serious risk, employing a teacher without proper documentation. Soon, due to the principal being taken ill, Helen is appointed acting principal, having become very popular with the students and the teachers alike.
It is in the school that one of the most powerful scenes in the story takes place. It is so beautifully set out that I have a horrible suspicion that I have read it somewhere. When I recognize the source of the anecdote, I will give credit, but I have only vague ideas of its origins. Or I shall have to remove it.
Anyway, young James is born, (and we're introduced to James's Dad, Jeffrey,) and during the graduation ceremonies, Helen is hauled off to the lockup. We're also introduced to the amazing young woman who ends up falling in love with James's Dad.
Of course, the whole thing is a fantasy, even if there are scary elements in it. Given that Helen is in hiding, with both children, everything happens in the least frightening way, true to the Helen tradition.
Kay
Friday, July 1, 2016
David Eddings: The Belgariad
The American author David Eddings wrote the five-book cycle called The Belgariad around 1984. Though that's a lot of books to read--and each one is several hundred pages long--they're a fun read. The whole thing is set up like a Greek mythic drama, with prophesies, a pantheon of gods, a creation story, a magical artifact, and a seven-thousand year old history that goes back into dim legend. In some ways it is reminiscent of Tolkien's universe, but that's inevitable; Tolkien was a pioneer, and a brilliant one, and his writing sheds an enormous shadow. Eddings's work is scaled a little smaller, but as a result is just a little more readable. Tolkien's relentlessly heroic voice is absent, and so is that of the pseudo-historian; instead there is the slightly mischievous voice of the old storyteller. (The historian's voice is not entirely absent, but it's a more modern historian, and not an academic from Oxford.)
The point of view is most decidedly masculine. Eddings is an uncle, with all his avuncular foibles, occasionally taking a brief peek through a keyhole, or a sly smile at a young woman. I have read two of Eddings's epic cycles, and in both he describes romance refreshngly more like a 19th century novelist than like an Arthurian legend. He likes small, cute women, who are determined and powerful in their own way, though in the Belgariad, a central figure is the sorceress Polgara, who is portrayed as statuesque, and almost stiflingly competent, but who manages to earn our affection nevertheless. Still, the stereotypes that Eddings evokes, though he stretches these molds relentlessly, are still those of a masculine viewpoint. Having read books by male authors for a lifetime, I'm not frustrated; you have to take them as they come.
Trying to find some images to accompany this post, I searched under Belgariad on the Internet, and I was surprised to see how enthusiastic Belgariad fans were for a movie! Just for fun, some of them have begun to illustrate their perceptions of the various characters on DeviantArt, and others have actually gone as far as casting the movie.
One choice for Polgara, the sorceress, and daughter of the senior sorcerer Belgarath the Ancient, was Catherine Zeta-Jones. This is an excellent choice; I had never thought of her, even while I was trying to imagine the character for myself. I imagined someone a little taller, with towering dignity, someone like Sigourney Weaver, but a lot more intense. Sigourney Weaver's eyes are just too gentle, even when she's trying to be pushy. The second choice was Lucy Lawless, of Xena fame. She would be just perfect, except that I have never seen her act with a kid, and half of what Polgara does is to keep the hero, young Garion in line, and the young princess, CeNedra under control. Unfortunately, too, Polgara is not an action heroine, which is something that Lucy does beautifully, but had to be a sort of strict aunt, which Catherine Z can do pretty well. I also think the role of Belgarath the Ancient would be perfect for Michael Douglas, which is sort of tragic.
One of the choices for our hero, Garion, is Alex Pettifer, of whom I had never heard before today. This guy is perfect; he is just the image in my mind of Garion, no doubt influenced very strongly by the terrible covers of the paperbacks. In contrast, the selection for Princess CeNedra is Emma Stone, which sort of works, but sort of doesn't. There's just too much humor in Emma's face, and though she could probably portray someone who's full of self-importance, I don't think she could be convincing as CeNedra. It has to be a someone whose personality is that of a cartoon character, which gradually becomes human, and I can't think who could do it. Actually, it strikes me that Renee O'Connor, of Xena fame could have pulled it off in her distant youth, but where to find someone of that sort, of the age of about 15?
Ian McKellen had been selected for the central role of Belgarath the Ancient. But the author represents him as someone considerably rougher, coarser, probably deliberately intending to make a contrast with the Gandalfs, Obi-Wans and Dumbledores of contemporary epic movies. Similarly, the role of Barak, the northern warrior who occasionally turns into a bear, was given to a sort of hunky young man who is all wrong. Somebody on the lines of Bryn Terfel would be more appropriate, though it isn't a singing role! The characters are numerous, and delicious; that alone ensures that the pentalogy has the ability to hold a reader. Not a page goes by but I think to myself: I would have written this passage differently. But, likewise, very often I have to stop and marvel at how well he has pulled of a passage. He writes as if he were Belgarath the Ancient; something that does not make a whole lot of sense. I have an idea about what it feels to be so very old, and at least of moderate intelligence. And Belgarath does not behave or speak or think like a seven thousand year old person, though every once in a while he does protest that, look, he's old, and certain things don't surprise him anymore. Nothing could surprise a 7000 year old man, and a 6980 year old woman (or whatever).
For those who have not read the books, please do. No fantasy cycle deserves to be read more. I haven't read Game of Thrones, and I have a queasy feeling that I could not enjoy it if I did. But the Belgariad is a whole lot of innocent fun. For those who have read the books, even one of them, searching on the Internet for images related to the story is very entertaining.
P.S. For any readers from the British Isles, my sympathies are with you. It is a sorry thing to have happened, that pettiness has triumphed over reason. But things will invariably settle down, though it is difficult to tell what action the private citizen can take to help things along at this time. At least, to know that we across the ocean are sending good thoughts your way may help give you a little hope.
Kay
The point of view is most decidedly masculine. Eddings is an uncle, with all his avuncular foibles, occasionally taking a brief peek through a keyhole, or a sly smile at a young woman. I have read two of Eddings's epic cycles, and in both he describes romance refreshngly more like a 19th century novelist than like an Arthurian legend. He likes small, cute women, who are determined and powerful in their own way, though in the Belgariad, a central figure is the sorceress Polgara, who is portrayed as statuesque, and almost stiflingly competent, but who manages to earn our affection nevertheless. Still, the stereotypes that Eddings evokes, though he stretches these molds relentlessly, are still those of a masculine viewpoint. Having read books by male authors for a lifetime, I'm not frustrated; you have to take them as they come.
Trying to find some images to accompany this post, I searched under Belgariad on the Internet, and I was surprised to see how enthusiastic Belgariad fans were for a movie! Just for fun, some of them have begun to illustrate their perceptions of the various characters on DeviantArt, and others have actually gone as far as casting the movie.
Ian McKellen had been selected for the central role of Belgarath the Ancient. But the author represents him as someone considerably rougher, coarser, probably deliberately intending to make a contrast with the Gandalfs, Obi-Wans and Dumbledores of contemporary epic movies. Similarly, the role of Barak, the northern warrior who occasionally turns into a bear, was given to a sort of hunky young man who is all wrong. Somebody on the lines of Bryn Terfel would be more appropriate, though it isn't a singing role! The characters are numerous, and delicious; that alone ensures that the pentalogy has the ability to hold a reader. Not a page goes by but I think to myself: I would have written this passage differently. But, likewise, very often I have to stop and marvel at how well he has pulled of a passage. He writes as if he were Belgarath the Ancient; something that does not make a whole lot of sense. I have an idea about what it feels to be so very old, and at least of moderate intelligence. And Belgarath does not behave or speak or think like a seven thousand year old person, though every once in a while he does protest that, look, he's old, and certain things don't surprise him anymore. Nothing could surprise a 7000 year old man, and a 6980 year old woman (or whatever).
For those who have not read the books, please do. No fantasy cycle deserves to be read more. I haven't read Game of Thrones, and I have a queasy feeling that I could not enjoy it if I did. But the Belgariad is a whole lot of innocent fun. For those who have read the books, even one of them, searching on the Internet for images related to the story is very entertaining.
P.S. For any readers from the British Isles, my sympathies are with you. It is a sorry thing to have happened, that pettiness has triumphed over reason. But things will invariably settle down, though it is difficult to tell what action the private citizen can take to help things along at this time. At least, to know that we across the ocean are sending good thoughts your way may help give you a little hope.
Kay
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