Wednesday, December 01, 2004

wolfling of my watching

I do love Kipling's First Jungle Book. If you've never read it, you should. First of all, for sheer story it's gorgeous. It's nothing like the Disney version -- which, while clever and full of great music, absolutely cheesifies what is a magnificent, raw, rich, and profoundly proud tale. The characters speak in the King's English, a speech of great dignity and nobility, and oh, the stories are wonderful. This book taught me to understand "thee" and "thou" even before the Bible did. I fell in love with Bagheera and Kaa. Akela was one of my childhood heroes. So was Hathi the Silent, reticent Master of the Jungle, answerable to no one.

What I always hated most about the Disney movie is the way it robs these great creatures of their dignity. But thankfully it left a good deal of Mowgli's tale untold, so that it didn't ruin the whole book. There are many tales of cunning, courage, strategy, sympathy, and love beyond the bare bones of the story of a Man-cub raised by wolves who eventually kills his chief enemy Shere Kahn.

Read it. My copy is battered, I've had to tape the covers on several times, and there is a place in the margin, running all through the chapter "How Fear Came," where a worm ate its way a good eighth of an inch into the pages. The pen-and-ink illustrations are marvellous. The paper is old and yellow and brittle and new pieces of corners flake off with each reading, and I couldn't adore it more.

I think there was a short film made of the first chapters, but not by Disney, just as there was a film of Rikki Tikki Tavi and The White Seal. I wonder who made it and if I could find it. I watched them when I was very, very little, and they preserved the original tale-teller flavor and tendency to psalmsong and wonderful characterization of the stories.

In other notes, there is a light dusting of snow on the floor of the woods outside my window and I'm terrifically excited for winter. I love this season of desolate beauty with a fierce wild delight that even autumn doesn't inspire.

Also I've lost nineteen pounds to date since moving. I've never felt healthier. (And yes, my dears, I'm eating and eating well, very balanced and adequate meals, and I still love my desserts. I'm just not eating overly much. Living on the go is like that.) But now all my clothes are ridiculously large and restocking a wardrobe is expensive. Not that I'm complaining. All I need is one more pair of pants and I'll be set for awhile. Thank goodness for associate discounts at Ann Taylor.

2 comments:

la persona said...

Good for you, Sarah! The woefully stubborn freshman fifteen have finally become the frantic

la persona said...

Good for you, Sarah! The woefully stubborn freshman fifteen have finally become the frantic fellowship fifteen now that I'm working and that doesn't come with a meal card or free homecooked meals. I hope we meet again very soon!

The Year of More and Less

Life continues apace. I like being in my late thirties. I have my shit roughly together. I'm more secure and confident in who I am....