Keeping It Off

Being a girl is hard. We think about how shit we look ALL THE TIME. Even when you’re feelin’ fly, getting ready and blasting Missy Elliot, one bad glance in the mirror can throw you off. Myself and my friend were recently discussing how much we hate ourselves. If you’re a guy, you may think I’m exaggerating here. If you’re a girl, well, you know what I mean. 

How is it that hate is used to often to describe how we’re feeling? It’s not dislike, nor not fond of. Hate. We’re so quick to say haters gonna hate, and it’s damn lazy to hate others, but the worst victim of it is ourselves. As a girl, my hatred towards my thighs, my stomach, my butt – has no logic. I’ve thought about it plenty in my head, when I went through puberty I definitely had extra pounds on me. Considering my height, I was more barrel in shape than female at that stage. 

This lasted for a year or two. For over the past ten years I’ve been around the same size (although I’m the highest now, considering I still eat the same amount of chocolate as I did when I was 16 yet I’m sedimentary for like twenty hours straight). But for a reason that sees no logic at all, I feel like how I was at puberty, PUBERTY, defines who I am. What. the. shit? How skewed is our world that I see what is a natural occurrence for all little girls as a curse that can sneak up on and cling to my hips? One blip over the edge of what you feel is the norm can stay on your radar for quite a long time.

It was only until last night when I got a proper flash of the true insanity of this. That girls can think that they’re spending years keeping off puberty and being terrified of losing control. When really I don’t have any control over any of it. I may get pissed looking at my face because mostly I think I look like a leopard with these freckles, I may wear skirts and dresses most often because I find it tricky to get jeans to fit my big butt.

It’s alright, there may be some things I can manage to keep off, but most of these things I’ll keep on.

categories: culture personal

Literary & Heart-Shaped Shit-Shows

I’m not going to try and write a decent introduction of where I’m going with this post, but trust me, it goes somewhere. Hint: it’s about books.
  • Bluestockings
  • 172 Allen Street
  • New York

When I was younger – probably before the Internet came to Cobh – I used to be obsessed with reading. I’d read fairly quickly, a book every day or two. I used to head into our library, who now show love to all my old donated books. When I lived in different countries one of the first things I used to do was join the local library. I couldn’t believe how in Toronto you could order a book online and they’d deliver it to your branch.

I went digital a couple of years ago because with moving so often I felt terrible about leaving the books behind. Irrational guilt, I know. I find it hard to discover books worth reading online, some of my friends are fans of Goodreads but it’s been a miss for me. Because of this, I like to go into stores and judge the books by their cover.

Nowadays, this drives me nuts. I had a stop-over in Heathrow airport on the way to New York and had the luxury of taking time to pick out a decent book.

I stood there, gazing at shelves upon shelves of vampire erotica and romance novels. What a literary shit-show!

I’m not against reading Twilight (I’ve read them. All of them), however the lack of selection outside of these pop genres was shocking. [I did end up buying The 100 Hundred Year Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, which I’d highly recommend.]

When I was living in Amsterdam, a guy I was seeing lent me a book, The Art of Fielding. I really enjoyed it, one of those books you get sucked in to and devour as quick as you can. I’d rather stay home and read it instead of seeing him… probably a sign why it never worked out. When I gave it back after I’d finished it he told me to pass it on to another person, which I did. And I’m definitely going to do this in the future with books I buy. 

I tell you these tangental stories because today I happened to wander inside Bluestockings, a bookstore in the Lower East Side. It’s a feminist bookstore, which to be honest I don’t know anything about. So I’m going to pretty much ignore that, and I’m sure it’s the place to go to if you want to find out more on that. Besides the corner of feminist books, there were tons of fiction, political theory and all of the usual genres. I checked out the fiction section thoroughly and I loved how it felt like every book had been carefully selected, rather than “Oh he wrote that, we must have him” or “There’s vampires, sex, bondage; all in one book – stock up!” 

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Throughout the store they have charming little handmade signs defining the sections.

imageThere’s also lots of art available for sale, plus coffee.

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Dudes, there were books on moustaches. Woah, I just reliased there’s a Euro/American difference in spelling for that word?

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I ended up leaving with that book there, the one I’m holding in my sleeping bagged arm. If Davy hadn’t written this title I definitely would have. If there’s any New Yorkers who’d like to read it after me, let me know. Now, reading time.

categories: new york culture

Insert Reference Here

I’m sitting here wearing a Space invaders t-shirt, one of two I own, even though I’ve only played the game a hand full of times. Yesterday I compared someone using the tv remote to the apes at the beginning of 2001 a space odyssey, even though I’ve never seen it. I know that Ganondorf should never posses the full Triforce but I’ve never controlled Link. I live in a pop culture dominated world, whether I’ve experienced it or not. Let me explain;
  • Contributor Post
  • Author: Eoin Wilson

When I was growing up one of the first cartoons that I loved was Animaniacs. It is an eclectic mix of old school slap stick and innocence mixed with violence and wit (damn, just looked at the Animaniacs page on Wikipedia and that’s more or less how they describe it too, I didn’t copy it I swear). But the thing that I remember most about the show is the amount of references that it made. The beauty of the show was that it never felt like it was talking down to me. It continued in the proud tradition of early Bugs Bunny cartoons which referenced things like Wagner’s operas. Within the plethora of references made there are many that were clearly not something that a child would, or should, have understood. One example that springs to mind is the Goodfellas parody, Goodfeathers. This is a reference to a very violent movie that should not be viewed by children (although it should be viewed by everyone else because it’s fantastic) but here it is, as a main reference in a cartoon primarily aimed at children.

I want to clarify my position here. I absolutely love references. I love making them, I love hearing them, and I love finding them. One of the most joyful experiences you can have is when the awkwardness of meeting someone new is broken when the two of you can share a common reference. It’s like a mutual acquaintance, an in, a short cut to let you know that, ‘you know what? this person is ok’, that there’s common ground. It’s a shared language. But like every language, it can be used to deceive.

All too often I’ll find myself understanding references that I have no right in understanding. I didn’t spend childhood summer days with the curtains drawn trying to beat the water level of the TMNT game; I know it from seeing videos that talk about scenes like that. I never sat marvelling at the mystery of Rosebud, but I still laugh when they mention it on the Simpsons. 

I’ve never seen Close Encounters of the Third Kind but give me a bowl of mashed potato and I’ll sculpt Devil’s Tower with the best of them.

But every time I make one of these unearned references I feel like I’m cheating. I feel like I’m giving a false impression of myself. What if I laugh at a reference that someone makes that I know but only via osmosis? I haven’t earned that reference, and it could give the other person an impression that we have a shared experience.  What if this is the thing that begins out friendship? What if it begins our friendship on a lie? Do I come clean? There is always a pang of guilt associated with this. It’s a trivial problem I know, woe is me, but it does affect me.

It feels like I’m living a lie, and not in the exciting way I imagine comes with being a spy, not a real spy obviously, a movie one. I don’t think I could cope with being a real spy, they probably don’t care what way their martinis are made.

I wonder sometimes, should I avoid references altogether? Should I trust that without the short cuts I could still hold a conversation with someone?  What are we if we’re not our experiences? But if you can co-opt an experience so easily is there any benefit in it? Can I trust that everyone isn’t doing what I do? Hmm, how many friendships have been started under these false pretences’?

But, how can something that brings people together be wrong? It’s not a lie (unlike the cake) to know something purely from a reference. Is it so different to only seeing the Mona Lisa in a book? People live busy lives, the highlights are better than nothing sometimes.  So we’ve managed to make a short cut of a short cut. We’re making references to references. And you know what? I’m ok with that. 


Note from Sue: Thanks Eoin, it’s great to know our friendship was all based on a lie. I’m totally cool with it too. Before I get all Tom Hanks, I have to thank Wilson (first name Eoin) the PhD brainman from Ireland for writing this post. And if he doesn’t float away, hopefully there’ll be another. Yes Wilson, Wilsonnnnnn?

categories: culture contributors

The Use and Re-use of Successful Fundamentals in Popular Children’s Literature (Part 2)

Something I found interesting after doing some digging was looking at the repeditive use of simple fundamentals in a storyline. All good children’s books work basic elements into the story. The most obvious of these being a beginning, a middle and an end to a tale. 

Other less obvious elements would include Characterisation. The author may choose an animal to be the main character. This is known as anthromorphism or personification of an animal or thing. The Setting of the story is also a basic yet very important element so as to create a time and a place for the story to unfold. They have to create an interest in the reader otherwise the child will not relate to the story. 

Similarly important in good children’s books are the themes. If you remember any of your own childhood favourites you’ll be familiar with the recurring theme of superpowers and adventures in such stories. “Where the Wild things Are” by Maurice Sendak and “The Gruffalo’s Child” by Julia Donaldson both focus on adventure as a theme. Or in Roald Dahl’s “Matilda” and more recently Oliver Jeffers charming book “The Incredible Book Eating Boy” both main characters have each have an enviable supernatural ability. The themes are recurring and ever popular with children who never grow weary of its repetition.

Three of my favourite books that I find to be great examples of the use and re-use of these basic fundamentals in popular childrens stories are “Are you my Mother?” by P.D Eastman, “Monkey Puzzle” by Julia Donaldson and “A bit Lost” by Irish author and illustrator Chris Haughton.

The three stories span over a period of 50 years which proves the success these basic fundamentals have as they hold fast in their stance yet work so fluidly in brand new stories.

They still appeal despite evolving changes in social, cultural and political environments. The kids who enjoyed them immensely first have since grown up and the same stories are just as effective with their kids.

In this instance of my chosen books, they are all aimed at young readers aged 2-9 years. 

The basic fundamentals used in these three stories cover;

The theme of  Separation - A child becoming separated from its mother.
The use of Anthromorphic Characterisation -The authors each chose to convey their stories through the use of friendly animals.
The Setting or environment - Each story takes place in the unknown. To a small creature, a suburb, a jungle or a wood are vast & unknown.
Relationship -The nurturing relationship between mother & child.
Tension - The use of tension to drive the story forward.

Having highlighted these I’ll briefly introduce each book before beginning a comparison of these fundamentals.

Firstly we look at P.D Eastmans “Are you my mother?” Born in Amherst, Massachusets, he grew up to become a a children’s author and illustrator and was published by Random House Books for Young Readers in 1960. The story begins with an egg left alone by its mother thinking it will be safe for a short while. In this time the egg hatches and the chick immediately embarks on a journey stopping to ask a kitten, a hen, a dog and a cow if they are his mother. 

40 years later Londoner Julia Donaldson’s “Monkey Puzzle” is published by Macmillan Children’s Books in 2000. Beautifully Illustrated by Axel Scheffler, Donaldson’s story follows a similar adventure whereby a monkey has become lost in a jungle and seeks help from a butterfly who takes the monkey to animals in the jungle who might be his mother. 

Last but not least and most recently we have Chris Haughton’s wonderfully designed “A bit Lost”. An adorable and incredibly atmospheric story about a little owl who falls from his nest into a thick and dark wooded area. He seeks help from curious woodland animals in a bid to find his mother again. 

The fundamentals used in these stories are essentially the same but this doesn’t take from each book’s creative originality.

To begin a brief comparison, each author has chosen the theme of separation in their story. If you ever got lost in a shopping centre when you were a child you know the intensity of fear that takes hold within seconds of losing sight of your mother.

You quickly realise that this is it: you will never see your family again. You are lost. Forever. Five seconds later, your mother has found you and you are now utterly disturbed and sobbing uncontrollably from your hellish experience.

The theme of separation in children’s books, is one that always catches their attention. In P.D Eastmans “Are You My Mother?”, the little chick not yet able to fly, walks in pursuit of finding his mother by asking each animal or object he encounters the same question. “Are you my mother?” Similarly, Donaldson’s baby monkey character has lost his mum and when a butterfly offers to help him find her the two set off through the jungle meeting different kinds of creatures living there. Haughton’s character is a baby owl who is asleep in his nest with his mother. In real life, baby owls apparently have a tendency to fall out of the nest and in this case there is no exception. Owl falls down into the forest and is approached by curious woodland animals who enthusiastically offer to find his mum again.

The fact that all three authors chose animals for their characters is interesting yet not surprising. It is a popular choice in young readers literature. The three main characters in each story are incredibly loveable and illustrated in beautiful and vivid colours that would draw any child in.

One could argue that each author chose animals because the theme of their story is one that could be percieved as potentially distressing for the child to imagine happening to them. And a child can distance itself from the character if they do not wholly relate to an animal. It could just as easily be for the reason that for kids, the notion that animals can talk and think just like us and have a mummy who loves them just like ours is beyond enthralling! Most children naturally love animals and so the use of them as characters draws the child reader into the story. 

The environment each character is in differs but ultimately they are lost in a place they are not entirely familiar with. Be it a jungle or a city or the local shop you got lost in as a tot, they are all looming and unknown. Each character has found themselves in a similar situation: they are lost.

I want to combine the last two fundamentals I listed being Relationship and Tension as they complement eachother in the success of the stories. One being the relationship in each story is primarily between a child and its mother. The other being the tension or atmosphere that drives the reader on in the story.
 

to be continued (one last installment!)

The Use and Re-use of Successful Fundamentals in Popular Children’s Literature (Part 1)

I love to read. I’m always at it. Mostly I spend my time reading books. But when I’m short on those, I read the backs of cereal boxes in kitchens, shower gel labels and medications in bathrooms (yup, your bathroom too).
T-shirts, Facebook status updates and let’s not forget other people’s shopping lists left behind in the trolley.

I read on a continual basis and if you were to work it out in pie chart form, next to sleeping, the biggest slice would be my time spent reading. Despite reading so much I am very selective about what I read. There is a process in choosing the right book. Firstly, the look of the book is important. I don’t pay any attention to whoever once said “don’t judge a book by its cover”. It’s the first and foremost thing that will draw me to a book I haven’t heard of. Aside from the blurb, the feel of the book in my hands will also play a factor in whether I buy it or not. I don’t like a book that is hard to hold. Particularly those first print edition oversized novels.

I need to be able to get comfortable with my book. We will, after all, be spending quite a bit of time together
in bed.

I appreciate my books, I hoard them in fact. I never throw them away. The more dog eared my books are shows how loved they are. It’s my stamp of ownership. A memory made physical and my claim to something I developed a relationship with for a short time. I am also one of those reluctant book loaner outers. I feel my grip tighten on the book when I hand it over knowing full well I may never see it again. It causes me mild distress. It’s not too far off the feeling I got as a kid when I had to let someone play with my best toy & I could do nothing about it because “sharing is caring”.

More intensely though, I love children’s books. I collect them. I don’t dog ear these. They are little pieces of precious art in my eyes and I have special areas in my house to keep them safe.

As a child my mother read to me a lot. And when I was old enough to read myself I absolutely devoured them. I became completely and utterly absorbed in the worlds created in story books. The characters were as real to me as my family. It wasn’t until I had my own child that I realised my reading experience as a little girl was different to that as an adult. I began to read to my daughter and saw how she was able to experience a great story. A feeling similar to awe arose in me, realising I couldn’t experience it the same way as her anymore. All I had to go on was a warm nostalgia of how I experienced my favourite bedtime books. It seemed to be an experience only achievable by children who enjoyed reading.

My daughter is not far behind me in her passion for a good book. I have consciously made an effort to instill in her a mutual love and appreciation of books since she was old enough to listen but too young to talk. I read to her from the word go. Every night, for six solid years, I made reading something to look forward to at bedtime.

It was also a part of the day where no one could interupt us and we got away from everyday distractions. This meant that during our bedtime stories I was unabatedly her mother and she was wholeheartedly my child.

Then when she learned to read herself I actively encouraged her to enjoy reading alone. I still occasionally step in to read to her again so she can lie back and visualise the story while I get carried away narrating silly voices for the characters. It’s a pleasure to be able to read my old childhood favourites to her and witness the enjoyment she gets out of them as I did.

Of course my passion for good children’s books has raised questions in me as to why they are so appealing to me and so successful with my child and others…

to be continued


Note from Sue: I’d like to introduce the first contributor post from the wonderfully witty Sara Sheridan. When she sent me on her essay with a title like that, I thought to myself, “holy jeebus, I’m not going to understand a word of this.” Two lines in I was laughing my butt off. I can say with glee that this is just part one of Sara’s investigation into children’s literature. Check back to see what Sara discovered about getting lost.

Consistently Current: TrouwAmsterdam

Trouw is a daily newspaper in the Netherlands, founded in World War II by members of the Dutch Protestant resistance. The Nazis tried to prevent publication and imprisoned twenty of it’s couriers. Issuing an ultimatum to the editors of Trouw, the paper refused to give in and all of the captured couriers were executed. 

TrouwAmsterdam, is located at Wibautstraat, the former printing warehouse of Trouw. But that’s where their connection to the paper ends. Now the space is used as a restaurant and venue. I mention the history of Trouw because the place is almost metaphorically a newspaper–it is consistently current. It has a Berlin-esque vibe. Admittedly, I don’t know too much about that city, but I imagine this is where Amsterdam differs. The vibrant ‘glam’ club culture can be found here where every building is full of history.

Schedule of events for the night, probably one of the last printed pieces we'll see from the Stedelijk in their old house style.

Schedule of events for the night, probably one of the last printed pieces we’ll see from the Stedelijk in their old house style.

On Thursday I went to DUPLICATE IT!, the last night of the Stedelijk and TrouwAmsterdam collaboration. Nights like this seem dime a dozen in Amsterdam, especially at Trouw. To be honest, you almost take it for granted that there’ll be something cool on.

This evening–despite the bright club lights and house DJs–was deceivingly wholesome.

Run by the Blikopeners of the Stedelijk (young people with part-time jobs in the museum, ages 15-19) there were a energetic bunch of teens on stage introducing bands remixing and playing cover songs. Throughout other areas of the venue you could see people filming movies or getting involved with a large artwork, referencing the acknowledgment of Stedelijk of the “I could do that” attitude found often in visitors in museums. 

A large room was eerily filled with six xerox machines, each accompanied by a stack of Parra art for you to manipulate. And so subtly and casually Dutch, the place was filled with contemporary art by well known names such as Marc Bijl, Paul McCarthy and Mike Kelley. 

categories: amsterdam culture art music