Been working my way through American Gods, by Neil Gaiman, for the past few days:
"It's a tragedy, is it not? The little faces on the milk cartons - although I can't remember the last time I saw a kid on a milk carton - and on the walls of freeway rest areas. 'Have you seen me?' they ask. A deeply existential question at the best of times."
One of the interesting things I've noticed about many of the best kid's books (not that American Gods is a kid's book) is that at the root of it, there's a single question that is asked of the main character over and over. In Alice in Wonderland it's who are you, in Wizard of Oz it's where are you going and in Winnie the Pooh it's what do jagulars do? (They shout halloo and when you look up, they drop on you).
Ok, so I made that last one up, but I just wanted to mention Winnie the Pooh because it's the awesomest ever. (tiddly pom)
I find it interesting that these basic questions, which are obviously the kinds of things kids, going through the developmental stages of their lives, are asking themselves (who am I, where am I going), permeate these stories which have endured all these years, and I would guess that it might be one of the reasons why they do so. Really, they're questions that anyone of any age might find themselves faced with, which is why I found it neat when I read Wizard of Oz and a few of the Alice stories and found the questions repeated over and over.
I remember mentioning this in passing in a conversation to one of my roommates, who responded, "Whoa, deep." Whoa, deep, indeed. I salute you, sir, for your vocabularic prowess.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment