I know I'm going to sound completely like a "Pollyanna" in the post below and I will take advantage of this comment (which I don't like to make one bit, and you'll soon see why) to say that one of my pet peeves with the American culture is this derision of Eleanor Porter's work.
Has anyone actually read Pollyanna? Well, I have. Not once, but like 20 times. This book is very popular in Brazil in its Portuguese translation. My sister-in-law's name is Polyana -- a very common name in Brazil as well. My husband and I loved it and its sequel Pollyana Grows up. As a matter of fact, we have just re-read both -- motivated by the fact that I watched the new Pollyanna movie a couple of months ago -- I liked quite a bit, except the fact that she comes by boat and not by train and the story takes place in England and not New Englsnd. As a "purist" in what regards the adaptation of books into the big screen I don't like the Disney movie since it's very "unfaithful" to the book, even though I do like the actress. My husband thinks that the first book is not very good after all and that the sequel is better, and I haven't thought enough about it, so I don't know if I agree. Perhaps having "devoured" the book so many as a child makes me "blind" to see through it and critique it. My former advisor (a children's lit. specialist) even asked me whether this work's success in Brazil wasn't due to its translation, by the founder of Brazilian children's literature, Monteiro Lobato. I didn't think so, the book in English sounded the same to me, but maybe there's some truth to that. I don't know...
The truth of the matter is that I have a deep dislike of the expressions "this may sound Pollyannish" or "I may sound like a Pollyanna" even though I understand why people say that -- they do not want to be over optimistic, like she seemed to be. I am aware of the historical context, that this book became a kind of "phenomenon" in the the beginning of the 20th century which motivated the publication of over 10 bad sequels -- by various authors, since Porter only wrote the sequel I cite above. These publications alone may have been the reason for the "joke" that the heroine's name became, but I still don't like it. I think that people just don't know what exactly they're talking about when they use that expression, I mean, they don't really know the original two books. Whatever. I feel the same about Pearl Buck and how people think it's a joke that she is one of the few American authors who received the Nobel Prize for literature -- but that's another subject altogether (I saw a wonderful panel at the MLA about this and if I have time will write a post about it).
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OK, this post is supposed to be a more optimistic view of the subject of the previous post. I'm glad it struck a chord with you and I'm glad to hear your experiences and to know I'm not alone. What I want to say is that it's tough, but I think I'm luckier than other parents. I was going to link to Alice's post about her children only eating noodles, but I thought it would be hard to find (I just tried, but didn't find it, if you give me the link, I'll add it, Alice) -- so, I know it's even harder for other mothers and fathers out there.
My older son eats rice and beans, lentils, pasta with various sauces, some broccoli, tomatoes, various fruits, bread, tofu, and some other things, so it's not that bad. He wouldn't touch salads for the longest time, though, and now he's slowly beginning to eat salad greens. He doesn't like most vegetables, chickpeas and soybeans (not even edamame -- the green soybean). He does eat a lot, which is great. Oh, and in the morning he eats a mixture of several Brazilian (Nestlé) instant cereals, powdered milk and soymilk.
I remember that my little cousins wouldn't eat ANYTHING. My cousin, their mom, would spoon feed them their meals, more like force-feeding. And they were always very skinny. My oldest is a bit thin (he's my son after all), but he does eat well, so I can't really complain. What he said yesterday did make my heart sink, though...
Well, this is a pretty "weak" post, but I'll post it anyway. I have been working on several posts for weeks now, including a very belated anniversary post. I do want to get those out, though, so watch this space. Oh, and I want to post at least one beautiful photo a week.
My older son eats rice and beans, lentils, pasta with various sauces, some broccoli, tomatoes, various fruits, bread, tofu, and some other things, so it's not that bad. He wouldn't touch salads for the longest time, though, and now he's slowly beginning to eat salad greens. He doesn't like most vegetables, chickpeas and soybeans (not even edamame -- the green soybean). He does eat a lot, which is great. Oh, and in the morning he eats a mixture of several Brazilian (Nestlé) instant cereals, powdered milk and soymilk.
I remember that my little cousins wouldn't eat ANYTHING. My cousin, their mom, would spoon feed them their meals, more like force-feeding. And they were always very skinny. My oldest is a bit thin (he's my son after all), but he does eat well, so I can't really complain. What he said yesterday did make my heart sink, though...
Well, this is a pretty "weak" post, but I'll post it anyway. I have been working on several posts for weeks now, including a very belated anniversary post. I do want to get those out, though, so watch this space. Oh, and I want to post at least one beautiful photo a week.
4 comments:
When we were living in Central Europe, very common fare was dried fruits and nuts. The Painter absolutely adored dried mangoes. When we returned to the States we continued buying dried mangoes, and would often buy whole cases of fresh mangoes, to eat cut up or blended in smoothies.
He loved them. Loved them.... until, suddenly, one day, he said "Daddy, silly, you know I don't like mangoes."
Uh... yeah.... um... silly me, I guess I ... uh.... forgot. Well, actually, for a while he just wouldn't eat fresh mangoes, only dried ones. Then, he quit them both.
One day, I lighted upon a brilliant idea:
Honey, do you want some mananago melon?
Oh yeah, yeah. Mananago melon, yum. A few weeks later, he declared, daddy, silly, you can just call it mango.
And so, he was back to devouring the beautiful, juicy, orange fruit. Except, he's clarified that he doesn't like it overripe and soft, nor stringy. But if I pick just right, life is (healthy and) good.
Sometimes, we just refer to disfavored foods by their a foreign name, and some times he'll eat them: green beans are haricots verts, orange juice is pomerančovi džus. You never know.
I just adored Pollyanna when I was a girl. I must have read it 20 times too. I used to play the
'glad game' to myself, although I have never admitted it to anyone else because I never met anyone else who understood. LOL It really does make me happy.
I agree with you. And you know what else? I don't like the unlying idea behind the Polyanna joke that it is a bad thing to be optimistic. It's not! Aren't we cynical enough?
I also agree with your thoughts about the movie. WHy couldn't it take place in England? Hayley Mills is English, after all.
L, this is too fun! I love that we've both read Pollyanna and have the same complaint about people who misuse the term without having read the novels!
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