I really should start posting these before class, so that I don't end up reiterating everything that's already been said.

We discussed in class all the different takes on children and adults in Peter Pan but we didn't really address the pirates to any extent. I think the pirates were some of the most intriguing characters in the book. To me, they're sort of like over-grown children-- they are still searching for a mother and they're stuck in this Neverland of imagination, constantly chasing around children (or are they chasing after their childhoods?). Captain Hook is already an adult, but he's a very different sort of adult. It's interesting, to me, that he's usually played by Mr. Darling, a man we've established as another over-grown child. Perhaps, by having Mrs. Darling play the figure (as Barrie originally intended), we would see that the mother figure is the one chasing after her childhood. She did save that kiss on the corner of her mouth just for Peter Pan (at least, he's the only one who could take it), and, like Hook, she cannot defeat the passage of time that will take away her own children. Just as Captain Hook does, Mrs. Darling both fears and admires Peter Pan (though, in her motherly state, she's not nearly so violent about it). The night Peter comes and takes the children to Neverland, Mrs. Darling struggles to leave for their party because "a nameless fear clutched at her heart"-- she's scared of him. At the same time, though, she vaguely remembers him from her own childhood; she saved a kiss for him. They have different motives for their fear of Peter, but there are some remarkable-- if a little stretched-- similarities between Hook and Mrs. Darling.

Now back to the pirates. They seem to be the grown-up versions (and by "grown-up" I simply mean "older") of the Lost Boys. They, too, long for mothers and they also dwell in the land of fantasy, which is generally only associated with chidlren. We established in class that, in this book, children need adults and adults need children. The way the pirates and Lost Boys are positioned, though, the adults are fighting against the children and the children are fighting against the adults. Couple all of this with the ticking crocodile and opening line that "All children, except one, grow up" and you have what could be an incredibly symbolic relationship. Perhaps the children are fighting their future selves (I especially see the similarities between Tootles and Smee and Peter and Hook) or perhaps the pirates are fighting their own child-like natures. After all, a child without a mother can easily grow up to be a scoundrel (or a pirate) and an adult who matured in body but not mind can certainly be obsessed with children (perhaps like Barrie himself). Hook, himself, is especially jealous at the ease and cockiness the children possess. He hates that they effortlessly embody good form while he has to try for it. The kids hate him because he represents what they will all (except Peter) turn in to. I think Hook especially hates Peter because he'll never grow up; Peter will never experience what it's like to have time, even in the form of a crocodile, chasing after him. Hook wants Wendy as a mother because only children rely on mothers; perhaps he sees her as an avenue for getting back what he's lost as an adult. At any rate, he learns the hard way that he can't go back as time has already chosen him as its next victim.

I feel like I'm putting forth too many ideas. I'm starting to get confused, so I think I need to stop. Needless to say, this book has always fascinated me; there's so much to be said about it and, at the same time, so much that shouldn't be said.

how much do we really grow up?

I just finished The Golden Compass (I know, I know, very last minute) and really felt the need to write about it. I'd like to start off by saying that I think this book was beautifully written and told a wonderful story. I also think the controversy surrounding it is rather silly-- I mean, I never would have noticed that part of it as a child. I don't even think I would have seen it now had I not already heard all about it.

That said, I'm SO glad I didn't read it when I was younger. First, because I would have hated Lyra-- I was quite the little Purist and never would have been able to support the fact that she lied and manipulated virtually everyone around her (and that it was presented as a "talent"). More than that, though, this book would have terrified me. The amount of cruelty and the gruesomeness of it would have haunted me. Perhaps I'm just too sensitive (or imaginative, Pullman might argue-- that could explain why I was such a Purist), but the description of a Iofur's jaw being ripped off leaving his tongue hanging loose, followed by Iorek eating Iofur's heart, would have, without a doubt, given me horrible nightmares.

The body count also would have bothered me. SO MANY PEOPLE DIE IN THIS BOOK. This is just a taste thing, of course. I do realize that this sort of thing wouldn't bother everyone, which is completely fine. I just know how much it would have bothered me. I could accept a few deaths (I did read Lord of the Rings in elementary school) but I would have been angry, and probably even a little bit offended, that Roger dies. How do I know this? Because, to be honest, I still am. In a lot of ways, I still read books the way I did as a kid. I won't necessarily have nightmares or anything, but I was definitely deeply disturbed throughout the novel (and incredibly pissed off when Roger died). I'm still horrified at the cruelty and heartlessness of so many of the characters; just the idea of what was happening to those kids was enough to make me feel nauseous. Many times I wanted to close the book so I didn't have to think about it anymore.

I'm not sure where all of this is leading. I'm well-aware of the fact that many kids absolutely love this book, and the whole series, and that's a-okay with me! It really is a matter of taste, I think. And I would never presume to say it's "inappropriate" or anything like that-- I firmly believe that only parents should make that decision. I guess it's just to further the discussion of how kids read. I wouldn't have been able to handle this book as a child because I would have gotten so emotionally involved. That's probably evidence that Pullman tells a darn good story, but I think it's also evidence that, no matter how many analytic literature classes we take (and I've taken MANY) a lot of the ways we read last through adult-hood. The same things get under our skin and disturb us, even if we can't quite say how. And I think it's easy to read something as an adult and realize that, had we read that book at a younger age, it could have been an important experience (good or bad).

I don't know how others felt about the book. Frankly, it doesn't matter, because everyone will have responded differently. That's what makes literature so wonderful.