Anne of the Island: Anne Stars in the Victorian Bachelotte.

   How do you do,

   Like I said in reviewing Anne of Avonlea, the book of an orphan girl adopted by an elderly couple and grows up to be a hardworking student is something of a tough act to follow, and when it came to trying for it twice, Anne of Avonlea sort of didn't meet the same level as Anne of Green Gables. Of course, this is when book three comes in, Anne of the Island. In comparison to book number two, I would consider book number three a better improvement. 

   Now, when I say that whereas book two wasn't the literary masterpiece as book one, that book three is big improvement, that doesn't mean it will be the best yet. Anne of the Island does have its own set of flaws, including the reinventing of the wheel being reused in this installment. In someway, I like to think of Anne of Avonlea and Anne of the Island as two parts of a larger book that was to follow up Anne of Green Gables, making Anne of the Island as part two of this bigger book. It practically begins where the second book left off, with Anne ready to go to college which was delayed by Matthew's death and Marilla's eyesight and Miss Lavendar's wedding has just recently happened.
   One thing is carried over from Anne of Avonlea. Diana has met a man named Fred Wright and, after some courtship as a subplot to the second half of the book, got engaged to him. Diana and Fred are still engaged now, as Diana is seen twisting her ring in the first chapter. They talk of how Anne will be going to college without any friends, except of course Gilbert Blythe and Charlie Sloan. Speaking of Gilbert, he appears suddenly and has a talk with Anne shortly after, with Diana departing. They come to a bridge and Gilbert wants to tell Anne something and Anne prefers to just keep silence in the scene, which disappoints him. So begins the story arc of the third book: the love story of Gilbert and Anne (cue "Across the Stars.").

   Speaking of, the plot line of Anne and Gilbert's romance in Anne of the Island did remind me, as a teenager, of the plot line used in Star Wars: Attack of the Clones where the love story of Anakin and Padme is basically a plot formula of the girl who rejects the boy early on and decides he is Mr. Right in the end, mostly when death is involved. The plot thread to Anne and Gilbert follows in the same pattern. For the most part, Gilbert now is crushing on Anne who is totally oblivious to his feelings. He does do his part in being a friend which included walking her about campus (which fuels gossip there). When Gilbert comes to express his feelings for Anne, she rejects him and tells him she wants to be just friends. Gilbert may have wanted to be friends with her at first, but now he is no longer content with being in the friend zone, something most would feel sympathetic over. Because of this, Anne sort of stops interacting with Gilbert, once more. Of course, they are within a mile of each other after that, but unlike with the Star Wars example, Gilbert and Anne don't have the luxury of a forbidden romance. If anything, it's encouraged and when Anne rejects Gilbert everyone talks as though she led him on.
    This is largely due to the values dissonance deal. In the 19th Century, women were just beginning to enter college in some countries and many did get a career from their education, but most wound up tied down in a marriage soon after. Basically, as we would say, Anne's generation went to college to get an MRS degree. For a century after, this use to be the rule where women went to college to find a good husband, not a good career. It was only in the late 20th Century through the women's lib movement that the minority of women who remained single upon graduation and stay so for a number of years has become the majority and now those who marry right after college are considered rare. In fact, the Everything About Romance book considered this to be "Senior Syndrome" where after May graduations come June weddings. Some happen through love and others because of security involved. In the meantime, it's greatly encouraged by society for women to put off marriage while getting into their careers while the statement of obtaining an MRS Degree now seems demeaning. In the 1880s, the world was completely different. Most women were expected to become a wife and mother while the men got a trade and a diploma. In some places, they actually had colleges that were for women and another group for men, only. But, in this time period, Anne's going to college is considered a step forward as she is going against society's expectations and gets a higher education and possibly a career while the more traditional minded Diana Berry settles for marriage to Fred.
    This is how I consider this the Victorian Bachelotte as Anne gets not one but five proposals. The first is from Billy Andrews (or rather it was through his sister), a guy that Anne had befriended and got his eye soon after. Anne rejects him. I can say that looks are not really something to think on with a suitor, even if most people claim that good looking guys are able to have their way with women more so than average or ugly looking ones. Then again, the fact that his sister did the proposing for him suggests of Billy not being much of a real man in the sense who would have simply walked up to Anne and say "will you marry me?" Even if you said no, ladies, you have to admit that is much better than having someone do the proposing for him. Then comes Charlie Sloan, the boy that Anne didn't consider much in their school years. The chapter "An Unwelcome Lover and A Welcome Friend" has him asking is she could be his wife in a manner as though he were asking her to be his wing man, or something. Of course, Anne says no and Charlie accepts it by getting cold to her. Then he does what most of us are advised to do: he sought out someone who appreciated him and he then uses it against Anne. I am sure this was largely to give himself some satisfaction. Then Gilbert begins to propose, and is rejected by Anne. Next comes a man named Royal Gardiner, introduced in the chapter "Enter Prince Charming." He certainly fits the description, being that he covers Anne with his umbrella during a rain. Anne falls for him and it seems that we have a love triangle on our hands.
   Or so one would think. Gilbert actually moves on from Anne and becomes involved with a Christine Stuart (yeah, I know. That's not moving on, that's making the girl jealous). Eventually, it is announced that Gilbert is engaged to Christine and Anne is shocked at this. It is here that she realizes she does have some feelings for Gilbert and regrets how their friendship has gone. Still, she has her Prince Charming and in the chapter "False Dawn", he proposes to her. The paragraph describing the event shows that the proposal is basically what everyone expects in one: the guy bears his heart to her and brings up the ring. In short, cliche. Anne, who has always wanted the tall, dark, and handsome man for a husband and was looking forward to the perfect proposal, suddenly says it's not what she wants. After all that, she actually decides that she doesn't want a Prince Charming. Royal takes it like a gentleman and says goodbye. He then exits and never returns into her life again. With that, Anne hopes to not be proposed to again. There is a fifth proposal, which happens first, from Sam, a man who is tending to a farm owned by the Douglas family. She also rejects it.
     So, Anne resigns her fate to that of a single woman who is on her way to be a principal in another school. However, she learns that Gilbert is sick with typhoid and practically dying. This makes Anne realize that she does love Gilbert. The character arc the two have finally comes to its conclusion: Anne visits Gilbert, he gets better, and they pledge to each other. There's an interesting dialogue that comes with this that is way better than in their Star Wars counterparts:

"But I'll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne," said Gilbert, sadly. "It will be three years before I'll finish my medical course. And even then there won't be diamond sunsets or marble halls."

Anne laughed.

"I don't want diamond sunsets or marble halls. I just want you." ("Love Takes Up the Glass of Time." pg. 243.) 

    I really can't think of a better conclusion to this saga. Someone play Taylor Swift now (yeah, I know, that's from the movies that Sullivan had produced in the 1980s. If y'all like, I'll do a review and commentary on each). Anne and Gilbert have now come a long way since the first book when Gilbert was pulling on Anne's hair and calling her "carrots." They went through the period where Anne didn't speak to Gilbert who tried to win her forgiveness, did become friends when he gave up easy path, they did things together for AVIS, went to college, and now they had become lovers, the last concluding as becoming engaged. In Victorian literature, the love story either ends with the lovers dead (or at least one of them) or with them getting married, generally. Here, since it will be three years before that happens, Montgomery lets that wait for the next chapter (or rather, the next book, because the scene happens in the final chapter of the book). But, I will say that one other couple does get married.
    Diana and Fred tie the knot in the chapter "Diana's Wedding" which is a good enough stretch of time in the book for it. A few chapters later, Diana becomes mother of a baby girl that she and her husband named Anne Cordelia, in honor of Anne and her alternative name. At this point, Anne is still thinking of Gilbert with Christine and now Diana is gone. Anne, of course, wishes people didn't have to grow up and get married. At the end of the book, it turns out the engagement was just hearsay. Christine is engaged to another man and he was only keeping things platonic with her. Jane Andrews also gets married. Ruby Gillis is engaged, but she comes down with tuberculosis, or galloping consumption as they called it. Poor Ruby dies midway into the book at a young age, which was not that unusual back then. So, in all people marry or die and that makes up the plot line of the book. Most of it is dominated by a single plot thread, as opposed to the mostly episodic storyline that was in the first two books. However, a few episodes do venture into the book now and then.

   Anne is still a dreamer and she dreams of writing in this book. In someway, this is L. M. Montgomery writing of her early days as a writer in these chapters and she provides it in Anne's first story, "Averil's Atonement." From the chapter of the same name, Anne writes of the girl Averil who is courted by many suitors from the dashing Perceval Dalrymple to the villainous Maurice Lennox, with all the characters listed in bold letters. She chooses Perceval in the end while Maurice is killed off to save the lovers from his rage. This doesn't please Diana or Mr. Harrison, who both agree that he is twice the man Perceval is. While Diana is gentle on her criticisms, Harrison tells Anne that she writes too flowery, her characters are not relateable, and her dialogue is not natural. No doubt, Montgomery may have heard such directed at her when she was younger. I like how Harrison says that if he wrote of villains, he would give them a chance.
   As you would expect, Anne doesn't become a best seller at the start. Her story is rejected by publishers just as she rejects suitors. Then, one day, she is told that she is being given some money for a baking powder product because of a product placement. It turns out Diana had placed it in there while entering Anne's story for a contest for Rollings Reliable. No doubt, the story caused an increase in sells for that baking powder along with Anne getting some extra money. While Anne is appreciative for her publishing, she takes the Rollings Reliable deal as though her child was tattooed, which I sympathize as the event is clear cut commercialism. It's just like in today's movies where you'd see candy made famous by a movie or a couple of cars are used in another to make it seem cool (I'm looking at you, Spielberg) only Anne doesn't consider it good for sells. Thankfully, she'll do better next time.
   Another stand alone plot that is done in a chapter concerns Anne and a cat, that she names Rusty. When the cat decides to stay with Anne, she and the others realize the only humane thing to do is to drug it with chloroform (yeah, you read that right; poison the cat). Fortunately, the deed is carried out but it doesn't result in the cat's death. Instead, it lives and Anne takes in the cat, leading to the possibility of Anne becoming a cat woman (until she accepts Gilbert, that is). Paul, Davy, and Dora return in the book, though they are mostly reduced as characters. Paul develops some in revealing that he can't find the Rock People anymore, to which Anne tells is the price of growing up. There comes a time in a boy's life that his imaginary friends fade away and he begins to believe that they never existed. Now Paul will have other things on his mind as he gets bigger, his school work, his future ambitions, and, some day, girls (if Montgomery was going to make him gay, she wouldn't make it so obvious, y'all).
   Yet, story arcs that take many chapters still dominate the novel. While Anne is in college, she is boarded with a few girls, which is akin to being placed in a dorm. Here, an old character from Anne of Green Gables returns, Priscilla Grant. With her is a new character named Philipa Gordon, named Phil for most the book. Phil becomes Anne's opposite, though they share one thing in common: they came from Nova Scotia. This leads to something that is novel to anyone outside of Canada. In the first book, we hear of liberals called "Grits" (yeah, I still think of the breakfast corn meal in seeing that, or the acronym for "Girls Raised In the South", as opposed to a the plural form of Grit). Here, there is the term "blue blood", which is an older term that goes back many centuries. A person who is a blue blood normally means someone with pure blood of a certain ethnic or racial group. They can also be people who have generations of unsoiled ancestry lines in a particular area. Most of us find that strange since the United States and Canada are not as solid standing as they use to be. I have a friend, call him Sir X, who just married another friend, call her Lady Y, who was from out of state and they are living in Texas, now. As far as I know, Lady Y had ancestors who hung around the Carolinas, but are likely from elsewhere. The same with Sir X. I, myself, have a family whose members settled in Texas after their parents spent a few years in Mississippi and Arkansas, and before that they had families that were in the two mentioned states all the way back to the mid-19th Century. Then there's the bloodline, which has been added with ethnic lines that are in contrast to one's family name. It can lead to some surprises in one's family tree, as one commercial I know of showed. In the 1880s, when Anne of the Island took place, up in Canada, much of this movement of people and mixing of groups was almost unheard of. And for Anne, to be a blue blood doesn't seem that much of an honor and she denies this during her stay.
    The girls start out in a boarding house, but they take up residence in a cottage on their second year, Patty's Place they call it, which a much wiser move economic wise than using apartments, in my opinion. Not naming names but I have been around a university town for a couple of years and I can tell you that there is some mixed priorities with it: they build these new condominiums with swimming pools and gyms near shopping centers, which is geared to the students of the said university while most of the natives (year long residents) are still living in trailers, their parents' home, or some cheap apartment, if they have any shelter at all. I am sure anyone reading this knows how it is with most university towns. So, during the second and third year, it's Anne, Phil, Priscilla, Stella Maynard, and Rusty the cat, plus Gog and Magog, as Montgomery puts it. Phil gets several boyfriends during the course of the time and she can't decide which one will be her husband. However, she plays a hand in the Gilanne ship. She wrote to him on how nothing was happening between Anne and Gardner.

   While an improvement over the second book, Anne of the Island has its flaws. It too makes the mistake in reinventing the wheel. This time it involves Mr. Douglass and a woman named Janet. As with Miss Lavendar and Mister Irving, we see a woman who is now a spinster and wanting the love of a man from her youth, yet they were kept apart. This time, it's in form of the man's mother, which brings the idea of a family matriarch who seems spiteful and jealous of a younger woman taking her son who is practically a Mama's Boy. Of course, Montgomery must not have had something else to do with her in this point and has her killed off and then the couple can live happily ever after.
  One thing that is irksome is in the chapter "Mrs. Skinner's Romance" where Anne hitches a ride with an old woman on a cart. The woman narrates her tale to Anne as they ride along, during which is the repeated phrase "Jog along, black mare." This gets repeated to the point of redundancy and cuts into the flow of the narrative, and Montgomery never explains why the horse needs to be told to "jog along." Not only that, doesn't Mrs. Skinner know the name of her horse? It also makes it hard to keep up with the story she narrates to Anne in the chapter.
   These are just a few, but the rest the reader of the book may find. Anne of the Island also has a nostalgia filter about it when one notes the year of its publication: 1915. By now, Canada is in World War I and this allows what would have then been called the Anne of Green Gables trilogy be a much stronger look back to simpler times, especially to the older generation. Now that the centennial of America's entry into the same war is here, I will of course jump on ahead, or rather do the publication date order, and get to book five of the series, instead of book four, in the next entry. Now, I am positive I know what your question next is: since you read this when Attack of the Clones came out and had the stories side by side, which of the two do you like most? The Star Wars fan in me would favor Episode II, yet I do see the love story of Gilbert and Anne to be superior to that of Anakin and Padme in every shape and form. Of course, you can read the book for yourself and compared that to the way it was handled: but Montgomery knows how to set up the process of two platonic friends who become lovers, and eventually have them marry, in her novel much better than most movie makers can in a two hour film (that is basically how a love story is generally done: strangers > acquaintances > platonic friends > close friends > dating > lovers > engaged > married, and it all takes time). Sometimes, I wish L. M. Montgomery wrote the movie's script or the novelization (if only that were possible). But, alas, Missus Montgomery has been dead since 1942 and there is no likely reason she would have helped with writing Star Wars. Sure, she may find some parts of it romantic, but she would quote Anne and say "there's no scope to the imagination in this."


Montgomery, L. M., Anne of the Island. (1915) Special Collector's Edition. Bantom Books. New York. 1998.

Anne of Avonlea: Anne Goes Serial.

  How do you do, 

  In the early 20th Century and late 19th, they would often make a series of books that would follow up the original novel as there wasn't any other way of learning more about the hero, or to see another generation sort. In the United States, we saw that after Tom Sawyer had his adventures, we then had Huckleberry Finn. We also had The Wonderful Wizard of Oz lead off a parade of "Oz Books" that continued even after L. Frank Baum passed away. So, L. M. Montgomery did go serial because everyone wanted to hear more about Anne, Diana, Gilbert, Marilla, and the rest. The thing is, when you have a book that is about an orphan girl who is adopted by an elderly couple and she grows up into a hard working woman, that is basically a tough act to follow when writing a sequel. But, Mrs. Montgomery managed to pull it all off. After Anne of Green Gables, we are reunited with Anne of Avonlea.

   In book two, we find Anne is almost grown up and teaching in the Avonlea school house (after the new teacher in the first book moved on). Just look at the picture above and note how the illustration of the cover has her professionally dressed, in contrast to the first. This allows the introductions of the children there: the young Paul Irving from the States, Anthony Pye, St. Clair Donnell (whose mother insists we pronounce as "Donnell"), and a few others. The book also introduces Mr. Harrison, who is almost like George C. Scott in my opinion (I can imagine Scott playing him in my own casting movie -- even add in the line "no more Mr. Nice Guy!") when he first appears and then softens a bit. Then there's Miss Lavendar, the former fiancée of Paul's father who is now over the hill due to problems obstructing their journey to the altar. Basically, all the things that a sequel does, bring back familiar characters and have them interact with new ones coming in and have them deal with new problems.

  Anne of Avonlea is not really the best of the sequels to follow someone, in my humble opinion. It's not the same was with Mark Twain where the sequel is just as good as the first, or even considered of equal worth in the literary canon. With Anne, only the first book is treated a classic literature while the sequels are less so. There is a justifiable reason to that; just as American literature classes wouldn't go beyond Last of the Mohicans in discussing Cooper, most Canadian literature classes probably talk about only Anne of Green Gables when speaking of Montgomery and leave out the sequels because the real work of literature in this sense is book one. It has the flowing English words, bits of poetry in there, and memorable dialogue, along with good characters. Everything after that doesn't do so much as have a uniqueness to the tone or the way the words go along (there's not even a good enough quote in the sequels to really remember, actually), though character development is just about the only good thing to come. It can be a double edged sword; some of the characters will mellow out and some become hardened types and so on. Anne of Avonlea demonstrates this through the flaw of reinventing the wheel in some chapters. Now there are a few differences between book number one and book number two, mostly in the themes. We start to get a little more mature in themes in this book because Anne Shirley is now a young adult (though a teenager, by modern terms) and she is working as a school teacher. Being a teenager means that her story will take on more mature topics and will be less about imagination.
   I wouldn't say there is much of anything new in book two; the real story of Anne is really in book one which is where we see an orphan girl who saw alot of hardships and try to imagine it all away, while feeling very conscious of her red hair, then one day she gets adopted by a brother and sister who sent for a boy and she proves her worth in salt, gets a BFF and becomes a model student in school. All that is in book one. Everything after that is more of Anne being grow up, more practical, and doing things with children more where before we were told of her babysitting routines and rarely saw it in action. Here, she is a teacher and she is handling the twins which gives a kind of new generation feel.

   The first example of it reinventing the wheel is in the first chapter. Anne has herself a new milking cow that likes to escape into the yard of Mr. Harrison and attack his crops, which leads to a stand off between them. Anne protests of the fact the fences are not in good shape on his end, which he tells her it is in good shape and that cow is enough to break through a jail fence. To use the George C. Scott move, he tells her that if he finds the cow on his property again "no more Mr. Nice Guy!" Anne is owning a cow which is only mentioned in the first chapter but never said so in the first book, so it gives her the chance to learn some responsibilities, but she is also having other things on her plate and the man is evidently a bad tempered farmer with too much pride for his own good. That is something to glean from the first chapter. However, in the next chapter, after penning Dolly the cow up, Anne finds the cow in the fields again and has to pull her away with Diana's help, and then she sells the cow away. At first, it's all swell until Anne discovers -- lo and behold! -- Dolly is still in her pen. Anne sold Harrison's cow instead!
    So, Anne has to visit Mr. Harrison and explain what had happened. Anne basically goes up to Harrison with the feelings of a kid who broke an old man's window with his baseball and must own up to his actions. Fortunately, Harrison is understanding and admits he was a little hasty the previous morning. So, the whole thing was done quickly with Harrison being okay about it. Anne had sold someone else's cow and pays up for it with a cake, which seems fair to Anne in money wise, but how does the man get his milk? Maybe he has more than one cows. It's a detail I didn't notice, I do confess. But, after this incident, Mr. Harrison becomes the old man who lives alone, until this Emily shows up, and he talks of how annoying Rachel Lynde.
    One other thing is how show the plot with the cow is: the whole thing is done in three chapters. In three chapters, Harrison goes from irate neighbor to mentor figure in Anne's life. This shows another reinvention of the wheel as Anne still gets into situations that make her learn lessons, all of which results in episodic plot formula in the novel. It's really the introduction of Dora and Davy Keith that changes the format.

    Dora and Davy enter the picture because their mother has died and their uncle is a no show (their father is also dead). They are basically twins, though with differing personalities (like some twins are). Dora is well behaved and gentle natured while Davy is rebellious and mischievous. I can hear how one claiming Montgomery is gender type casting in the two: making the girl good and the boy bad (in fact, Davy even lampoons that right to Marilla's face in the chapter "Marilla Adopts Twins"). For the most part, it allows Davy to develop more while Dora rarely fills the pages with anything.
    With their parents dead Dora and Davy are adopted by Marilla, which allows for a repeat in history. The development both allows for the reinventing of the wheel moment and gives Anne a role reversal. Now she is the adult along side Marilla and these two twins are the orphans who need adoption. Anne is also now the one who has to guide a child into becoming something, with Davy being her subject. Of course, Anne gives her someone to model to: Paul Irving, and I'll get into him more later. One thing with Davy is he keeps up the bad boy stage for most of the book, be it messing up the kitchen or snatching items during dinner, and doesn't do much of a change until Anne becomes his teacher (awkward). Of course, one could say that Montgomery is writing from a woman's point of view. Most men authors might be like Mark Twain, who would have the boy do these actions and chuckle at how he use to be. Both do understand that there is a time when the boy will stop doing those and become a man, however. As we recall in the first book there were plenty of it with Anne's peers. Gilbert, especially. When he first appeared, he was a trickster who called Anne "Carrots", and he changed by the end of the book. The other boys also grew up, setting aside all the hair pulling on girls and tricking people in order to become serious about professions and careers, as well as respectable.
    I guess from this, if one thinks gender roles were made by men in the patriarchal society, women are clearly its enforcers. When the children are being brought up, women take up the mantle of rearing and they teach the boys and girls to be good boys and good girls; telling both what they are suppose to be and what they are not suppose to do. Then women do the same when the boys become men in order to become suitable husbands to girls when the latter become women. Then the wives take up the role of enforcer in arranging rooms or chores while taking up raising the man's children. Kind of does make one wonder if "patriarchal society" might be a misnomer when women do all that enforcing (if not assigning) of gender roles. Even in societies that are not male dominated, the women assign the roles that men are to do and have women take the rest. The plot of Davy, and all the boys in these books, is an illustration of that: Montgomery gives him the role as the playful and mischievous imp who gets into trouble and then Anne and Marilla take it upon themselves to make him good. Because Dora is a girl, there is no problem, which is why I say I can hear critics call that gender type casting.

   The early chapters of Anne of Avonlea deal with Anne as a school teacher, or schoolmarm, as they were called at the time. Anne tries to have a much better way of handling her scholars than the previous teachers would. In fact, she points out that Mr. Philips use to whip students and order was never kept. So, she would go the other way and never whip a student. This is in a time when that was still permissible (read, 19th Century). Most of us today would consider Anne to be forward in thinking, just as they would have thought so in 1910, though some of us now think she was more concerned about being liked by her pupils. In her first chapter as teacher, she experiences the problem of parents where some woman named Mrs. H. Donnell comes in and tells her of how she pronounced the name of St. Clair wrong, along with calling the latter Jacob as the boy gave that name. Of course, the younger sibling of Josie Pye is in the list of students, named Anthony, and Anne wants his approval, yet she doesn't get it from the first.
     Then, in the chapter titled "A Jonah Day", Anne is having a bad enough day and it is hyped up by a few mishaps, climaxing with Anthony bringing some fireworks to school that are disguised as sweets. After being tossed into the fire, they go off and Anne is in a fit enough rage that she whips Anthony and feels she lost him forever. However, after that Anthony is much more respectful of Anne. In fact, in the same chapter, he helps her with some books on the next day in class. This does seem barbaric to the modern reader: you try to win the love of a student with kindness and fail, yet if you administer corporal punishment on him than he will respect you more. I wouldn't advice using this on children, of course, since the action can lead to trouble. Besides, it's not fool proof. Now, I will say Anthony's whipping reminds me of this scene, only on the hand.
    One of the things I liked with Anne's teaching was when she had everyone write to her on something they feel like writing about, which seems a good way to write something. One girl takes the time to write a love letter to Anne, which turns out to be plagiarized. The letter Annetta rips off of was a beau of her mother's before she married, apparently. I noted that her name is a variant of Anne. Annetta is Italian to mean "Little Anne", though she has the non-Italian surname of Bell. No doubt, one would think that Montgomery could have used Annette in naming her, since Canada use to be a French colony, but I guess she thought Annetta sounded like it had plenty of imagination. Well, she repents of plagiarizing, but she does admit to have loved Anne. It seemed more of the admiration of her teacher as opposed to a full blown crush. But, then again, in this time a little girl could have made such thoughts of a female teacher and one would chuckle at it without thinking the girl had homosexual tendencies. If only the same thing would be done with boys.
    For that matter, Anne finds one boy she likes: Paul. Paul writes to her of the rock people, his imaginary friends with the names of Nora, Twin Sailors, and The Golden Lady, in one of the letters he wrote to her in the same chapter. Paul is the one student in Anne's class who develops over the course of the book. He and his father are from the United States and are living in Canada. Because of his imagination, Anne relates to him more and they have conversations a few times. When Anne blows up and whips Anthony, it's Paul's eyes that haunt Anne soon afterwards. Gradually, they reconcile, and Paul lets Anne know of how he and his father were previously unacquainted until his mother died and they gradually became acquainted. It's not a bad sort of thing; Mr. Irving is a nice guy. It's just that he is alone and he lets Paul's grandmother do most of the bringing up.
    Paul's arc leads us to Lavendar Lewis, a woman who has never married; an "old maid" as they called them then. She is over forty and already having white hair. It turns out, she was once a girlfriend of Paul's father and they would have married, but a problem stood in the way. They had a disagreement and the engagement fell apart and Mr. Irving left elsewhere. He eventually married the woman who became Paul's mother while Miss Lavendar became an old maid. This was not unusual in the 19th Century, given the idea that when engagements break apart it decreases chances of marriage among women (it's worse if the man calls it off and the woman is now considered "damaged goods"). I am certain, even I have no proof supporting it, that some of those women, contrary social expectations, kept their virginity in those engagements that failed, and the same with Miss Lavendar. The reason I can't have proof was because people discuss those things then, so most people just assumed and thus the woman is made to be no longer eligible. Even if we don't take much stock in virginity loss today, there are plenty of women who save it for marriage and I am sure they don't want to be considered "damaged goods" when their engagements end either. (Remarkably, even in today's hook up culture they still don't speak of it).  As to Paul's father, he is absent for most of the book and shows up in the chapter "The Prince Comes Back to the Enchanted Palace" (and Montgomery didn't mean the same that the Beast lived in). They are reunited and in the end of the book, they are married, giving Paul a stepmother who was previously his father's fling. Can you ever imagine that today: you and some sweetheart in high school part, move on, one of you marries, has a boy, that boy has a teacher who meets you, befriends you, and then gets you reacquainted with the ex after he or she has been widowed, and then you two marry.

   The last way the book reinvents the wheel is when Rachael Lynde becomes a widow and now has to move in with Marilla, whose eyes have recovered since Anne chose to stay. So now, two elderly women, one an old maid and another a widow, are living together with a pair of twins and a teenage girl. At least it doesn't make Anne's plans get derailed. Instead, this will encourage her to get into that long delayed move into college.
   Once more, the book wraps up with Anne talking to Gilbert. In book one, they reconcile and become friends after having themselves a cold war for most of the novel. Here, they are closer than before and Montgomery hints that love could be blossoming between them. This is sudden, especially since the whole thing wasn't developed in the book and we didn't have anything to lead to such here. For most of the book, Gilbert and Anne keep things professional, and platonic. Gilbert even assists in this organization that Anne helped set up called Avonlea Village Improvement Society (or AVIS). Diana is also involved and we are introduced to Fred Wright, a plain man who, at the end of the book, gets Diana's heart. It is a surprise to Anne who still thinks she and Diana would be married to some Byronic hero type and Fred is the antithesis of such. Still, that doesn't stop some from believing that Gilbert and Anne are seeing one another. The only clue Montgomery gives is in the end where Gilbert believes he is in love with Anne, but he doesn't let her know. It does make for a plot twist where after so much effort to become friends they should fall for each other and Montgomery was willing to leave it in ambiguity (meaning she left it up to the reader to figure it out so that when the next sequel comes along we can see that resolved). So, for all those wanting to ship Gilanne, or Annebert, I will say keep patient.
    Because of the last, I wouldn't say Anne of Avonlea is completely over at the end of the book. It sort of has a little climax, from such a minor build up to follow a mostly episodic plot line, which is enough to make one want to see the next book. Of course, a few other things have tied up: Mr. Harrison has done his arc in going from a crusty old hermit to a friendly neighbor (even getting a wife in the process), Davy reforms from his bad boy days and becomes a nice guy, Paul gets a stepmother, and Miss Lavendar is reunited with a lost love. So, some of the loose ends are tied and now we can continue on to the next book and see Anne go into college and discover if she is ready for love.

Anne of Green Gables: Edwardian Canadian Nostalgia.

  How do you do, 

  Well, here's the first literature review. You saw I made a reference to the character Marilla Cuthbert back in "Dawson's Creek: Review and Commentary Part 1" and now I will write on some thoughts about the book in which she appeared. In L.M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, she appears as a spinster woman living with her brother, Matthew, in a farm called Green Gables, located in a fictional town of Avonlea in the island of Prince Edward, off the coast of New Brunswick, Canada. She and her brother are getting old and they send for an orphan boy, but wind up getting a girl name Anne Shirley. That's basically the premise of the book, though it only occupies the first third of the novel. The rest then covers the events from after Matthew and Marilla adopted Anne, where she befriends Diana Berry, goes to school, gets into a rough patch with Gilbert, and go into college. In short, it's basically Horatio Alger for girls.

   I started reading this book in high school and I had liked the character of Anne. In fact, I felt like having her as a girlfriend (even though we wouldn't be both fifteen until the later parts of the book, but if there is "scope to the imagination", as she would say, I could imagine being young enough to be the right age at will). Rereading the book frequently has given me all sorts of sensations of hope. There is that hope that you'll always be given a chance after a bad impression, that friendships can be healed, and one can go far and beyond one's origin regardless of what obstacles bar the way. I have even wanted to model my ideal mate to that of Anne and I do hope to meet and marry her. Though a cynic in me would say, to quote Star Wars, I'd wind up "follow[ing] old [Anne Shirley] on some damned fool's idealistic crusade"(Star Wars dir. George Lucas, 20th Century Fox, 1977, film).

   The character of Anne Shirley can be likened and countered by the American variant, being Pollyanna Whittier. Both products of their time and both are girls with idealism about them and reading about them makes one want to sing "thank heaven for little girls". Yet, Pollyanna is always bright and cheerful, which does make her a one dimensional character: a Mary Sue as we would say. Anne is less so. She is moody over the fact her hair is red, considering it something to be ashamed of, and when someone says something about it she gets upset. It's something that women who have certain insecurities of their appearances may deal with, like facial hair or small hips and so on. I am sure Pollyanna would have told Anne that she could be glad about having red hair because she has hair, though Anne would say otherwise. 

    There is a point in the story that Anne decides to dye her hair and it came out green, which she claims is worse. There are girls who dye their hair into many colors (I know one, personally), and they don't seem to mind having green hair. Of course, none of them seem to have the same insecurities as Anne. In an earlier chapter, when we first make our acquaintance with Gilbert Blythe, he calls her "carrots", earning him her scorn. It hurts her enough that she refuses to speak to him. Today, Gilbert would have been hauled to the headmaster for bullying, yet in the book it is Anne who is punished simply for breaking her slate on his head, an act that would equally get Anne in trouble today for assault. No doubt, in the 21st Century, both would have been forced to spend Saturday in detention. However, this is the 19th Century we are talking about. Through Diana, we see that what we today call bullying is innocent teasing (it only becomes bullying if one becomes controlling or harmful to bullied, which makes perfect sense in my opinion). Yet, in connection to this, Anne decides to spend some time out of school for Gilbert's behavior, only to return when Diana and Anne are separated by Diana's mom. So, Anne spends most of the grade school ignoring Gilbert while he discretely tries to win her friendship, placing an apple on her desk to rescuing her from a river. It's always interesting how people considered that more than asking for friendship then as now; yet in the 1900s, most would have sighed and wonder why can't some boy do the same, today's members of the female sex would accuse Gilbert of harassment or stalking. At least, he gives it up when Anne finally says no and they don't talk for awhile.
   Anne's stance with Gilbert is contrast to that of Diana. They declare themselves bosom friends, meaning friends close to the heart, in a time before it was given Lesbian connotations. In modern terms, they are BFFs. As best friends, Anne and Diana share all sorts of secrets and beliefs. Like typical girls, they gossip about every thing around them and they play acting in some favorite story with romance behind it. There is point where they are parted for a while. In the world of fiction, as with real life, the test of friendship either comes from without or within, being either they are separated by circumstances beyond their control or something they don't agree on causes them to be at odds with one another. In Anne and Diana, it's the former. During a visit, Diana gets drunk on "raspberry cordial", which turns out to be current wine though Anne didn't know. Yet, it's enough to make Mrs. Berry pull Diana away from Anne and forbid her from interactions. Since they are children, Anne and Diana have no choice on the matter. However, when Diana's little sister gets ill, Anne is the one who knows what to do in tending to her in a time before 911, medical alert devices, or even "Universal Healthcare", Mrs. Berry reconciles with Anne and permits them to be together again. This shows how doing something nice tend lead to relationships restored, as I believe, and even allow the bridges to be mended. I just wish it can work in this century as well (minus the croup, though). But, there is always hope. As to Anne and Diana, after the croup, they resume their activities.
   One thing that comes of the friendship is Anne meeting Aunt Josephine, a spinster lady who is Diana's aunt. After jumping on the bed with her in it through a race to it, Anne confesses to her for the idea and her wit charms Aunt Josephine to a point that they become good friends. Aunt Josephine then shows the two city life, to which Anne finds attractive but not to her satisfaction. Aunt Josephine is not the only elderly person to befriend Anne, as evidenced by Rachael Lynde, Marilla, and Matthew. Their arcs in the friendships differ with their characteristics. Rachael is opinionated enough to offend Anne, yet learns to be considerate of Anne's feelings after the latter apologizes. Matthew is the shy and reclusive man, which anyone other than a psychologist would claim stems from a fear of women (possibly from a domineering mother), yet enjoys the friendship with a little girl more than with any. Since the Cuthberts are adopting Anne, she and Matthew become an ersatz father-daughter pair. This makes Marilla the mother figure, though not in the traditional sense. No doubt, the background that led to Matthew's gynophobia may have led to Marilla coming out the way she is in the book. Unlike her brother, we see how she handles her psychological scars with hard work and prayer, whereas Matthew is kept in the yard. No doubt, if Anne of Green Gables were written by a man, we might have seen how Matthew handles his emotions.

   A few things came to me upon reading it. For one, it allowed me to see the world of girls from the eyes of the said girls, something I couldn't do in real life. Anne of Green Gables offered an idealistic look into that world, one of sharing treats and braiding hair while gossiping on something (such as romance), as opposed to Stephen King's Carrie presented the girls' world as something like a dystopia where many are like female chimps, doing political movements against one another, using boys for power, and attacking all outsiders with all form of malice and prejudice. So, I got a sense of seeing it as like the God Janus, the two headed god of whom January is named for.
   On characters, it's easy to sum up each character Anne interacts with in one or two words; Marilla is strict and rational, Matthew is silent and stubborn, Rachael is lackadaisical, Diana is gentle, Ruby is fragile, Gilbert is mischievous and contrite, et cetera et cetera et cetera. With kind of set up, it is easy to keep track of all characters and know who is who. It does reflect on a simple society where it was easy to know a person from his character, unlike today where everyone is complex (pronoun preference, orientation, skin color, beliefs, et cetera et cetera et cetera).
   The bulk of Anne of Green Gables is basically a story of a girl becoming a woman, just as David Copperfield focuses on a boy becoming a man. Where Charles Dickens had young David go through life as a young man with college and marriage, plus a family, Montgomery has Anne work for higher learning without any plans of getting married. In short, Anne of Green Gables can be read as a feminist novel as even though Anne and Diana may talk of romance, they never talk of settling down with a beau. It should be noted that the book was published when Suffragettes were marching for the right to vote in the States and the British Isles, so it's no surprise that Montgomery has Rachael Lynde quoted to say things will change when women have the right to vote. It is something to be amused over. Women have the right to vote now, but the same sort of politicians are still being elected and same bureaucracy still prevails. Still, there are plenty of other examples of feminism in Anne of Green Gables.  During Anne's early stay at Green Gables, Marilla tells Matthew that she will bring Anne up and requests he let her do on her own, stating "An old maid may not know much about raising children, but I guess she knows more than an old bachelor" ("Marilla Makes Up Her Mind" pg. 59) Matthew goes along with this, only walking up to give Anne a talking on the apologizing to Rachael Lynde in secret, and only comes in to bring presents for Anne. When it comes to favoritism, however, I can say that through the book Anne loves both Matthew and Marilla in equal measure.
    In the book, Marilla tells Rachael Lynde, and us, that Matthew is getting older and he has heart disease (no doubt from stress from work and his smoking habits). At one point, he is told to not get excited. This while Anne is working to enter college for a higher education. One can debate on rather Anne could give up her dream of higher education and teaching in order to make it easier on the Cuthberts. Of course, fate steps in in the last two chapters. When a note from the bank comes that reports failure, the shock is enough to give Matthew a fatal heart attack. Matthew dies and Marilla is left with Anne while losing her vision. Anne now has to make a fateful decision because Marilla is an old woman who could go blind one day and no one is left to operate the farm. The death of Matthew signals the end of Anne's childhood. Now she has to put aside some of her dreams and help with the farm, especially as Marilla is losing her eyesight. It also signals the reconciliation with Gilbert. Gilbert decides to give up his post at Avonlea and let Anne take it, thus cutting her costs to half. This allows the two to finally see eye to eye and they decide to be friends. Once more, a kind deed mends the bridges between them. I am sure any woman out there reading this, as well as the book, may be wishing some guy would do what Gilbert did; be willing to give up an easy way to a career just to make a woman happy.

   On the whole, the plot structure starts out as one continuous narrative, but the meat of the book is episodic. This is aided with the names of the chapters, which can be treated as episodes in a soap opera. Reading the book has been like trying out something from the country and one can certainly taste the Canadian flavor in the text. There is a bit of nostalgia in the book, which was noticed in the time it was written. When Anne of Green Gables was published in 1908, this was during the Edwardian period, with the Victorian now over, since the Queen died seven years prior. L.M. Montgomery was writing about Anne in a world of the motorcar and the airplane, when the telephone was the method of communication, phonographs played music, nickelodeons had short videos while the silver screen was becoming the rage, and houses had indoor bathrooms with plumping and the fridge in the kitchen to preserve food. No doubt, there were plenty of people who thought the world was "spinning much faster than it did in the old days", to quote Rascal Flatts. Anne of Green Gables offered a glimpse to a simpler time when one could walk down an old dirt road, or ride a buggy, from the station to the farm, passing and beholding all the sights one can see. Today, it can reveal a bygone world just as The Adventures of Tom Sawyer or To Kill a Mockingbird does for the US.
    I am sure Anne would find this world a far cry from the one she grew up in and may think there is such scope to the imagination when it comes to nostalgia. In this world where everything is digital and electronic, maybe we could be like Anne and try to imagine it a different place; one without racism or sexism, one where everything is possible, and strained friendships and relationships can be mended by a simple act of kindness. If we could put such a world into existence, I think it would be a much better world than it is now.


Citation.

Montgomery, L.M. Anne of Green Gables (1908) Scholastic Inc. New York (2001).

A Note.

  How do you do, 

  I hope y'all had a happy Easter. I have been out lately with a few other things going on, which won't be discussed as it's private. I will say that some ideas are coming and I am looking into making something about a book or two, as well as something of interest. Reviews will still come as will some Food for Thought. Now, I know that there are things people are raving about. If you are looking for a review of Beauty and the Beast coming up, I am sorry to disappoint as that is not in the works. I am also not doing one for the new Power Rangers movie. I would like to go over the series, though it seems someone else is doing so. Type in "Ranger Retrospective" and you can see it, though I must warn the writer reviewing leaves something to be desired: his episode by episode reviews contain out of context moments, a few inserted false statements, unnecessary jokes, and the over all tone of the blog suggests that the writer wants the bad guys to win. A part from all that, it's nice to see someone else's view on a beloved show, regardless of what that show might be or if it feels like a reflection on the dumbing down of America. Don't take my word for it; look that blog up and read it yourselves. If you find it enjoyable, all I'll say is bless your heart. However, there are other things I can look into in the future. 

   Y'all take care.

Food For Thought: Advent

    How do you do,

    You may have seen me mention in blog entries of being Catholic and I will bring up something that is brought up and celebrated among Catholics, and a few other Christian denominations. Advent is generally defined as "(1) a coming into place, view, or being, arrival: (2) the coming of Christ into the world." (Dictionary.com). In fact, the word even comes from the Latin word "Adventus" which means "coming." To most of y'all who don't share the same faith as I, you can say the name indicates the arrival of Christmas. In Catholic theology, it is more than the arrival of Christmas, but the anticipation for the arrival of the reason for the season. It is also the beginning of a new liturgical year. 

    As with Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, Advent is the winter celebration with multiple candles to lit on each day, though the number is reduced to four. Each candle doesn't cover one day a week and leave three unaccounted for. Actually, they stand for Sundays. The first candle can be lit as early November 24th, being near the Feast of St. Andrew the Apostle (November 30) and the last is lit as late as December 24th. In short, any time before Christmas and after Thanksgiving is Advent Season. In the honor of the name, the candles are called Advent candles and they are generally purple and pink. These pictures can give you a clear picture of what they look like and in what order they are lit in the Catholic doctrine. 

First Sunday of Lent.

Second Sunday of Lent

Third Sunday of Lent

Fourth Sunday of Lent

   Not featured in the pictures is a center candle that is lit on Christmas Day. It can be white to symbolize purity. The purples are obviously of royalty since for the longest time a cloth with purple dye was a luxury only kings could afford. The rose candle is meant to symbolize Gaudete Sunday, which is the counter point to Lent's Laetere. Yet, in Germany it was interpreted that the first purple is Isaiah prophesying the Birth of Christ. The second is the Bible. Third candle, which to Catholics is the rose colored candle, represents the Virgin Mary, thus adding femininity to the equation. Normally, the Virgin Mary is illustrated with blue. The fourth candle is to represent John the Baptist. Thus, we have the written and spoken word on the arrival of Christ, plus His Mother. Another reason for purple was to show a repentant color that was less exciting than the brighter colors which is why some Protestant denominations use blue instead of purple.

   Outside of the pictures, the candles are often arrived on a wreath. This is perhaps the one item in the equation that has pagan elements, being from the practice of using boughs of evergreens during the winter festival of Saturnalia. Coincidentally, the last week of Advent happens during the week of Saturnalia. Unlike the Christmas wreath, the Advent one is not hung up on doors but is used as the center piece of a table and the standing place of the candelabra. Now, the wreathe, or crown would be a better word for it, can be found at home in the States, but in some places it is only kept in churches.

   The candles are not the only part of Advent. Advent, like Lent, is a time for fasting and prayer. It fact, it was once done to fast during this period until Christmas in what was called St. Martin's Lent, since it was to happen near St. Martin's day, excluding Saturdays and Sundays. Even the Catholic Church had it as a fasting season until 1917. Anglican and Lutheran churches also fasted and then relaxed on it. Eastern Christians have used the season to abstain from eating meat and dairy. Devotional prayers are sometimes done in churches. In Germany, they also light little candles on oranges, which they call a Christingle. There were other things done among the faithful during Advent such as not abstaining from dancing. In short, most tend to not go to parties or host them in this period. 

     Mass is also done differently during Advent. In the Catholic Church, the Te Deum is excluded, as is the Gloria. At the same time, the Gospel reading is preceded by the Hallelujah, unlike in Lent. It is during this season that one hears "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" in Mass, also, along with "Ave Maria." It was once the idea to not have a wedding during Advent, also, as the solemnization was not possible. People could still get married during Advent, it's just that the whole is downplayed. Other things on the Mass are found here.

    Not everything in Advent is about fasting and prayer. Some elements of Christmas also happen during Advent. Some people would take the chance hoist up Christmas decorations as early as the first week, which is when Christmas shopping commences. Some parts of the US will see decorations up as early as Thanksgiving. Some houses will even have the tree up and decorated early in December, instead of waiting until Christmas Eve. People also have traditions of lighting candles outside of the four to count down the days until Christmas. This is also used in Europeans with the Advent Calendar with is often torn off and a piece be burned. Of course, most Advent Calendars bought in stores will have pictures of Christmas images and twenty-four doors. Inside of each door is a piece of chocolate to be tasted on the date of the door opening. This last type was a relatively modern concept, becoming popular in the eighties. Other things have happened like bonfires in a field of haystacks.

    Advent is observed as well as celebrated by Christians. It allows one to prepare for Christmas in a traditional manner as it does mean the arrival of Christ into the world. In this secularized country, this period is the period when stores have all the Christmas sales going for the Christmas shopping; when people take out the lights, inflated Santas, and Frostys, and place them across their houses and yards; when radio stations begin to blare all the "Holiday music" while television channels have marathons of Holiday specials that last for days. A few other celebrations happen along with Advent in other countries. For example is St. Lucia Day where in Sweden they have a girl dress up as the martyred saint and lead a parade of candles at the break of dawn and then they all sample some toasty buns. Sometimes, the Jewish holiday of Hannukkah happens during Advent and seeing it with a Jewish friend is a good homage to Jesus' heritage. These are but just parts of the season to observe and for Christians it will all be the observance that will lead to the celebration, the appetizer to lead to the main course, and the overture that will lead to the symphony.

Titanic: Review and Commentary

How do you do,

  This is not a review on James Cameron's blockbuster from 1997, which is something that has been reviewed many times over. Actually, there have been other movies titled Titanic before Cameron came along. The first was actually made in Germany in 1943. The film is propaganda for the Nazis, doing all it can to demonize the British. The second came in 1953, starring Clifton Webb and Barbary Stanwick, and is the first to be made in the US. This one is one and a half hour melodrama full of fictional characters and inaccuracies. It is the third is actually a miniseries aired on CBS in 1996 and produced by Hallmart. I chose this even with the centennial anniversary almost four years in the past, yet 2016 is the twentieth anniversary of the airing of this miniseries on television. The year after is when the famous version will turn twenty.

  When you look up this miniseries on a list of films about Titanic you are likely to find alot of negativity about it. Is it justifiable? Well, it's not the affects because this was the 1990's and television made movies are not really the sort that have enough in the budget for fancy effects. If you wanted impressive looking effects, you'd have to watch the theatrically released films. There are some exceptions, of course. I can't blame the acting in the movie, either. Some of the names were there to catch a few eyes (for example, George C. Scott is Captain Smith). If there was something to blame, it'd be the story telling. It does get grittier than the 1997 film. In fact, the miniseries seems darker than Cameron's film on many occasions.
  The miniseries begins with a character named Alice Cleaver waking up screaming after the images of the Titanic being constructed and some images of objects and bodies in the water. There seems a foreshadowing implication behind this, especially confirmed as Miss Cleaver having dreams of a baby dying. The early scenes imply her to be emotionally unstable, which makes one question her being hired by the Allison family as their nanny. Due to limited research, the Allisons, I believe, were one of those 1st class families who booked the passage on their way to Montreal. The family included additional servants, other than Miss Cleaver. The film portrays them as a somewhat American family and their daughter, Lorraine, can lead one to assume she is auditioning to be Verruca Salt. This is one arc. The second is Captain Smith and the crew, plus J. Bruce Ismay, who is played by Roger Rees. Rees and Scott co-starred together in A Christmas Carol and it's amazing to see them with more scenes. The third arc features Jamie Purse (don't ask who came with these names) who is running from the law. He is introduced as a pick-pocket who hides in a bar. A stranger offers his cap to help him blend in. Then they, and a drunkard, talk of Titanic and America. The stranger who helped Jamie seems to have something for the rich and their jewels. Of course, the man in the bar gets drunk and Jamie steals his ticket (which for us is a good thing, knowing what happens to the ship). Jamie uses the ticket to board the Titanic when who should he run into but the man who helped him evade the law. The man's name is never mentioned on screen, yet he is listed as Simon Doonan and he is played by Tim Curry. The encounter also introduces a Danish convert named Aasa Ludvigsen and the Jack family. The fourth arc comes on departure day when we meet Isabella Paradine, played by Catherine Zeta Jones, and Wynn Park, played by Peter Gallagher. Mrs Paradine is in mourning because an aunt of hers died and she is returning to America in black. Of course, Park, seems to have followed. Now they are going to be on the doomed ship in first class.
   From these introductions, we have four story arcs: that of Alice Cleaver and the Allisons, Captain Smith and the crew, Jamie Purse and Aasa Ludvigsen, and Park and Isabella. If one or the other of the two first class groups were of the second class, I'd say all the groups of the ship are represented (any film that does that is a dream come true). Of course, most of the things romanticized of Titanic is done in this representation. The first class passengers are portrayed as people who talk on shallow topics over dinner while acting all shocked when someone does something indecent. The steerage are shown to be only Irish and English immigrants who are herded like cattle and kept segregated by gates. The crew are shown professional, yet some what incompetent in their duties. Are there examples in the listed? Plenty. Enough it would make this review overlong. But the prime example is that during the dinning scenes in first class, we see people dancing. In reality, the first class frowned on the idea of people dancing after dinner. This was something the 1997 blockbuster got right as portraying it as another social event where people talk a few matters while consuming tiny, yet expensive morsels, all the while a string quartet plays soothing music in the background. In this miniseries, we see it transformed into a ball that the rich enjoy. Then we have a soap operish moment where Park asks a girl to dance, which angers Isabella. Meanwhile, Jamie Purse attempts to enter the first class group, facing the opposition that Clifton Webb's character did in the old black and white film. He, of course, steals a tux and passes off as first class and he runs into John Jacob Astor and Margaret Brown. Before he could get back to his steerage bed, however, he runs into Simon Doonan again, who takes him under his wing, because he is also a thief.
   The plot that Isabella Paradine and Jamie Purse each have take center in the first part of the miniseries. Isabella was once dating Wynn Park, according to the backstory, and called it off to marry her current husband. Wynn Park never got over it and has pursued her on to the Titanic. Most modern viewers with any brain cell would realize this was no coincidence; this is stalking. However, the miniseries, like any, sends out the wrong message by claiming Isabella still has feelings for him and will turn to him in the end. Why else would she be jealous of him dancing with another woman? Then, Park is able to get some flowers from Ireland (or was it France?) brought on board to be placed into her accommodations, and she shows her approval by casting the mourning dress aside for a red one. In this period of time, the period women take to wear black for mourning depended on who she mourned for. Friends and acquaintances got the duration of the funeral to a few days, family members and husbands got months to a year (some women may wear black after becoming widows for longer than a year). During this period, she can't accept suitors or do much socializing (which is why she is mostly confined to dinner celebrations). Of course, Isabella Paradine becomes the woman who defies convention by not only removing the black dress, but she dances the tango with Park. Over time, they journey the ship together for a tour. Moral alarms will sound because she is showing little devotion to her dead aunt this way. Then, she and Park go into the apartment where they precede to have sex, which causes them to miss church the next day. So, that means she is cheating on her husband. She then faces the moral dilemma of what to do next? She could stay faithful to husband for the remainder of the trip and break Park's heart again, or she could live a double life of sleeping with Park while putting on the facade of a faithful wife. Then, there's the third choice: send a heartbreaking telegram variant of the Dear John letter to her husband, leave her family, and elope with Park to who knows where. Right on April 14, she decides that third choice, knowing she was betraying the husband who was so good to her. How different that is from Rose's fiance who is a regular "cruise jerk" and one would want to see Rose dump him for Jack.
    Living a lie is what Jamie does on the start of the journey. He befriends the Jack family and Aasa, passing off as an ambitious man wanting to work in the motion pictures. All while he does so he hangs around with Doonan who tells him of a heist he has in mind. At the end of the voyage, they will rob the rich. Jamie goes along with this willingly. At the same time, he begins to fall for Aasa who tells him she is looking for God. As the journey goes on, we also see that Aasa has also fallen for Jamie. One would wonder why does fiction pit a good girl with a bad boy trope when it comes to romance. My theory on this is that it allows a scenario to reformation of the bad boy, as opposed to the more believed corrupting of the girl. In each case, there's a boy who knows he does wrong and he doesn't see himself as redeemable and yet this girl still has faith that he can improve. It's the sort of love and devotion that is Christ like, even if some think it as stupid on the girl's part. We are all sinners and most of us don't think of ourselves as redeemable, yet we have a God who loves us anyway and He is always allowing us chances to change for the better. Aasa provides another case where such love influences the man, as does the influences the Devil like Doonan provides. There is a brief crisis where Aasa freaks out when Jamie lets slip his real name (and Doonan knew the truth the whole time and was willing to use it against him) and she leaves him for the night while he prepares to join Doonan for something unrelated. Jamie does feel protective of Aasa and seems willing to let it be known of Doonan's intentions, especially when the latter suggests he might turn him in at any moment. Doonan makes this boast: "I have worked for the White Star Line for twelve years; I'm a trusted employee. Who do you think they are going to believe? Me or Mr. Dicky, who isn't Mr. Dicky at all?" The best Jamie could do is tell him to keep away from Aasa. His first step to redemption is when he admits privately that she is too good for him.
    Such are the main plot points of the miniseries, diverting our attention from Alice Cleaver and Captain Smith's plots and from many details that lead to the tragedy.

   When one thinks of Titanic one could think of the Edwardian period, and when one thinks of that time period we think of a time in the history of Britain and the United States when people tend to be different in thinking than today. It's perceived that with the 20th Century being new, most people then were more courageous about things and somewhat stupid. Kind of the way Spielberg thought of himself at a younger age when he made Jaws. So, when I look to Titanic, or look to the Edwardian period, I think of courage and stupidity, both of which conspired to create the tragedy on her maiden voyage.
    The miniseries is good in presenting that courage and stupidity. It is especially shown in Captain E. Smith and Mr. Bruce Ismay. Smith is not afraid of the seas in this movie. No doubt, Smith is made as the kind of man who doesn't even fear God. The same with Ismay who wants Titanic to perform its full potential. At least, Smith also thinks of the passengers and decides to follow safety procedures. This portrayal of the two has its basis in the newspaper reports of the time which portrayed Ismay as the villain in the Titanic tragedy. Because he survived, his reputation was ruined and he could not hold his head in polite society. Today, we believe his survival was largely so someone in a place of power could give report of the event and Ismay did prove helpful during the sinking, unlike what we see in the miniseries. The fictional characters also show that courage and stupidity, mostly in minor events.
   The stupidity is shown as all ice berg warnings are treated with indifference (Ismay actually puts one from Baltic into his coat pocket in one scene). Then there's the wireless room taking personal messages and listening to Cape Races when someone warns them of ice. With all that, one could see the tragedy coming right away. Yet, when the event arrives the tension is not lacking. The miniseries has the usual portrayal: "Ice berg, dead ahead!", "Hard to starboard!", "Full Reverse!", the bow slowly turning, impact, and "closing water tight doors." The first part of the miniseries then ends with the passengers having fun with pieces of ice while Mrs. Brown places her glass down, only for it to slide away and fall onto the deck.
    Thus, we have made it to the night of the sinking, which we have to wait until part two to watch.

   I have looked for the original script of the miniseries and actually found it. It turns out, Ross LaManna envisioned some kind of soap opera on the Titanic with more development on the historical as well as the fictional characters. Against the backdrop is a forbidden love story of a poor boy and a rich girl. When this miniseries went into production, much of that was abandoned, apparently they found out the same plot was being used in James Cameron's film. Just as well, in my opinion. However, it sort of streamlined what was originally used and it took out a few people. Most important person on Titanic is missing: Thomas Andrews is missing. Andrews made such an important point in Titanic, especially shown in the original story where he is the man with such love of his ship and later becomes humbled in his final moments. With his erasure, most of the lines are shared by Ismay and Smith.
   That sort of thing is something to take note of and it kind of diminishes the miniseries. It's something that is repeated when a miniseries called Helen of Troy came out before we saw the film Troy.

    The sinking of the Titanic brings the arcs together the way a woman with knitting needles brings together different threads in crochet. While Park and Isabella talk of what to do after they get off the ship, Alice Cleaver goes crazy and scares the Allison family again and Jamie finds Aasa hurt and can't help because he is pulled away by Doonan. Back in part one, there is a scene of Aasa talking with Mrs. Jack about Jamie and angels while they brush their hair. This scene is followed by an unrealistic moment of Aasa taking a shower, which leads to something like Psycho, without the music sounding. In place of Norman Bates is Doonan, himself, and he doesn't stab Aasa to death, just sexually assaults her, never caring that his white shirt, pants, and shoes are getting wet from the shower. I am thankful to some network censors that cut the scene short, but it would make sense to cut the whole thing out and leave us wondering what happened to her (though the shot of the plow cutting through pieces of ice seems a good analogy of rape). I have to hand it to the lack of intelligence on the part of Jamie for not noticing Doonan missing parts of his uniform and I can share Aasa's outrage at him going with the man who ruined her.
   Jamie does seem to think of surviving when it dawns on him that the ship is sinking. However, Doonan reveals they can sneak off disguised as women. Of course, Jamie draws the line on cross dressing (by the way, have you figured out yet where you saw the name Tim Curry?). Not only that, he figures out from the way Doonan talks that he was the one who harmed Aasa. At that, Jamie gets into a fight with Doonan who proves too much for the young man. Doonan tells him he is going down with the ship, causing Jamie to toss the tiara back at him the way Judas threw the thirty pieces of silver at the Jewish priests. He then goes back to help Aasa and the Jacks.
    As to Aasa, we see despair in her for the first time. She had been raped, her boyfriend has deserted her, and the ship is sinking, all the reasons why. Jamie comes back and tries to convince her that there "has to be a God" as He brought them together. With that, Jamie has showed he is becoming redeemed and is turning from his old self. He is able to get Aasa onto a boat, but not the Jacks. The Jacks don't hold anything against him or the crew. They merely make their peace with God and prepare to meet Him. Isabella also boards the same boat, as does Doonan. Alice Cleaver takes Trevor Allison with her and boards a different boat with the Foleys. The Allisons show to be dumber in this as they spend hours in different places and then search the boat for the baby only to miss all the life boats. With all the boats gone, there is nothing to do. One can say their stupidity has led to the little girl to die. Speaking of death and redemption, Alice Cleaver was revealed to be a woman who murdered her child in the past and the maid to the Astors realizes this and attempts to warn everyone. Of course, no one heeds her.
   The way Captain Smith is handling the sinking is one the best moments in the acting career of George C. Scott, in my opinion. He makes the character more heroic than the actual man while also brooding near the end. He also becomes tragic because, as he shows Mrs. Brown, he wishes to spend more time with his family. Now, he will never do so, which is why he asks them to forgive him. His last scene has him commenting on the common boast of the ship, "God, Himself, could not sink this ship", and the irony of the name of the ship is connected to Greek mythology. Knowing that Scott himself would die three years after the minis-series aired makes this one of the finest exit scenes of his career.
  Other bits and pieces of Titanic mythology show up, also. Missus Strauss refuses to leave her husband, a boy of thirteen is put on a boat over Lightoller's protests, Bride and Philips issuing the SOS call, and the band plays to calm people down. Unlike most films, the miniseries doesn't claim the last song to be "Nearer, My God, To Thee", but doesn't provide an alternative, which makes it closer to history than any film I have seen. Finally, we get the saddest montage possible as the ship finally sinks. Don't take my word for it, watch it yourself. Sure, it's choppy and blurry, and the effects are not up to their potential, yet Titanic made history by becoming the first motion picture to show the Titanic splitting in two, based from the findings in 1985. The miniseries then focuses on the aftermath of the sinking, something neglected in most motion pictures.
   The miniseries has other neglected bits placed into the story. For example, the miniseries shows the way the Californian didn't hear the distress call or the flares and the rescue efforts of the Carpathia. The way Captain Rostrum mentioned how long it would take for the Carpathia to reach Titanic gives one a sense of dread at the outcome and long for her to get there in time. Of course, she arrives too late to save over a thousand lives, including half of the cast. She does pick up the survivors and brings them to New York. One thing that seems to go against the rough and traumatic events is that Aasa is tossed by Simon Doonan into the icy cold Atlantic, is exposed to the cold for a long period of time, and miraculously survives. The same is not said for Park who dies off screen. Thus, Isabella is left with the thought of her broken marriage and her lover gone, which is enough to chastise any. However, once everyone gets to New York, we see the theme of forgiveness come because the telegram never got to her husband. At the same time, Alice Cleaver's previous crime is forgiven for saving the remaining Allison child (though a century later, people would accuse her of kidnapping). This kind of happier endings given to the three arcs clashes with the tragic nature of Titanic though it is better than what was originally planned, or this.

   The acting is good in most areas. I find the historical characters portrayed well, though Roger Rees' Ismay is practically how the press smeared him and Molly Brown is hayseed in this motion picture. The fictional characters are less impressive. The chemistry between Gallagher and Zeta Jones is undeniable and the same with the characters of Jamie and Aasa. Tim Curry is over the top in his performance. They gave him a van dyke as though to make him look villainous, something I have lately began to question (that sort of facial hair style was fashionable at the time) and it's never explained why he is interested in stealing money on the ship. We can only guess it was pay that had not risen in his twelve years of service. On a side note, I mentioned Scott and Rees co-starring in A Christmas Carol. It turns out, Curry and Scott were also in Oliver Twist, though they don't share a scene together (the hierarchy of the crew is why). The Jacks are kind, though a little naive, yet Mrs. Jack is quite a spitfire. The Foleys are shallow and bratty (stereotypical rich Victorians). The Allisons, you know. In fact, some of the most relatable characters in the story are the ones with only a few scenes but no story arc: the stoker with the tobacco, the engineer, the Astor maid, and the wireless operators (who do come off as predecessors of Fred and George Weasley in some scenes). That's basically the way to see the acting and characters, to me.
   Faith, redemption, and forgiveness: the themes one finds in a Christian story are present in the story, along with others. Mrs. Jack reassures her husband that she will be beside him in their final moments and the two of them stay with their children as they await death. She also spoke of the crew learning God's vengeance. She doesn't live to see it, but it does happen to Doonan after the sinking where he is hit by a paddle held by Lowe and left to float away with his stealings in the icy waters. It makes one want to think the Devil in Dante's Inferno, trapped in ice, all melancholic, and with the wicked he stole away for company. Jamie goes from pickpocket to an honest man during the course of the story and he will be with Aasa as they head to a new life. One might wonder if she will remain traumatized by all that had happened as well.
   The sinking of the Titanic was a night that changed 705 lives. It changed many other things also. It can be a warning to modern viewers and it can be a fantasy to some. The way this miniseries presents it is just that. There are few inaccuracies that get in way, unfortunately. Fortunately, not all detract from the story. As this miniseries reaches it's 20th Anniversary, it may have fallen from memory, but it is historic for being the first motion picture to show the ship splitting, though the way it was shown can be considered dated now.

Iron Jawed Angels: Review and Commentary

How do you do,

   I don't consider myself a feminist given that the feminist movement in recent decades has become, to a greater extent, a three ring circus (which is something for another blog entry). Yet, I was involved in the later years of my undergrad days with a few feminists who were part of a pro-life movement. These people invited me one night to watch a movie about women getting the right to vote. This was the film Iron Jawed Angels. 

   The best way to summarize the movie would be a group of actress most people have never heard of portray an event in US history that most people know how it ends and Angelica Houston is in the movie. It is not an old film, though old by today's standards. It came out in 2004, though most might not have heard of it. Maybe most of the advertising of the movie was not as great as, say, The Notebook or The Cinderella Story, both of which are watched by women on both sides of the political spectrum the past decade, yet Iron Jawed Angels passed under everyone's radar. No doubt, the same can be said to many of such movies of similar themes. So, this may have to go deeper than summarize it.

   Actress Hilary Swank plays Alice Paul and Frances O'Conner plays Lucy Burns. The two women played by these actresses were suffragettes who formed the National Woman's Party a century ago. The film has them returning from England (in September 1912, so they missed the Titanic) and meet with leaders from the National American Woman's Suffrage Association (NAWSA) to push for women's rights. Of course, the women in this group will support them if it's done on their terms, so the two eventually part from them and set up their own group. 

  If one was expecting the US Government, especially the recently elected President Woodrow Wilson, to simply hand women the right to vote after a few simple actions, then you are naive. What happens in the film's conflict is that Miss Paul and Miss Burns meet opposition from every corner. Not only do they face men who are refusing to give them the rights but they also must fight off misogyny of the times as well as their fellow suffragettes. Wilson is portrayed, in the movie, as a silver tongue politician (perhaps the closest to the truth from most portrayals) who is almost always isolated from their cries of freedom, and yet is willing to give freedom to others. So, the NWP then goes out to oppose him in the reelection and any who doesn't move on the Suffrage. Then America goes to war and suddenly the actions are considered treasonous.
    First time viewers may be amazed at how things went differently back in the 1910s. None of the Suffragettes had to go through security check points to see the president (though it was no longer simply walking up to the White House, ring the door bell, present a card to the butler, and then be led to the Oval Office), yet they also unimpeded on Capital Hill. When they picket the White House, only city policemen are called, not a Swat team, the Secret Service, or the Homeland Security. One would even be amazed that people use to cut into parades and throw things and not get arrested for it (unless the people in the parade were important people). Then there are moments that many feminists might be shocked to discover in the movement. The women seen marching are all white. The one African American woman who wishes to march is told she and her fellow black women must be in the back. Many of the suffragettes, including our heroes, are depicted looking down their noses at black women also, forcing that one to sneak into the line during the march. Those who may not know much about history of US presidential inaugurations may find it odd that Wilson is shown heading to the White House for the first time as president in what looks like a spring day. This is before the date of the inauguration was changed from March 5 to January. In 1913, people smoked -- not as much as they did in the fifties and sixties due to cigarettes not as mass produced -- and this time period marked a start in the more common instances of women smoking. So, it's no surprise to see Miss Paul and Miss Burns smoking, even after brushing her teeth. While sex is not openly discussed among most people (in some places, not even among married couples), the word "sex" is used frequently to mean male or female (something that should have stayed on in more places than Jurassic Park -- where Dr. Grant says "Some West African frogs have been known to spontaneously change sex from male to female in a single sex environment" -- as opposed to gender). I am cataloging all this to illustrate how history films present the past, which is a world quite different from the one you and I are occupying. No doubt, a century from now, people may find our habits very strange (i.e., renaming locations for the sake of political correctness, make protests and riots over tragedies, make a fuss about a minority in a place of power, be very judgmental to others, et cetera et cetera et cetera).  I admit, there were a few things that surprised me right away. In the Senate scenes, the US flag is displayed with the blue field on viewer's right, instead of the left as the Flag Code dictates. Looking into the Flag Code, I was amazed to discover that the Flag Code in question wasn't enforced because it wasn't around during Wilson's administration. According to USFlag.org, the code was first set up on June 14, 1923 when "there were no federal or state regulations governing display of the United States Flag" (USFlag.org). So, until then, there wasn't a defining rule on how the flag would have been displayed, either horizontal or vertical, in the Senate. But, I am positive, and I don't know how many historians would agree, that flag would have had the blue field in the north-west corner regardless as far back as 1777.

     While Iron Jawed Angels was good enough to presenting the way people behaved in 1913 to 1919, it doesn't get all of the historical inaccuracies down. Miss Paul and her fictional lover are seen eating sandwiches on a fire escape in one scene. The bread appears to have been sliced industrially, which is odd because sliced bread wasn't on the market until 1928. If they were eating sandwiches, they would have had to cut from the loaf directly (and there was a scene of something that looked like a loaf or cake on the table in another). This seems picky compared to a few other things. I mentioned the smoking habits in the time period. Yet, the film doesn't pick up on the drinking habits of the time and of the suffragettes who fought also for prohibition. It is mentioned in one scene when some man complains about what the women are marching for (though the film refrains from going into the common cliche of men claiming the women seeking equality are going to make them effeminate, even though there was a wide cultural hysteria over masculinity at the time). The one thing the film can really get to is the dialogue. As with Hollywood films, Iron Jawed Angels has everyone talk as common, and as earthly, as the audience as opposed to the methods people normally talked. Many reviewers have noted the way Miss Paul and Miss Burns have interacted with eachother, as opposed to the more in the times portrayal of Missus Carrie Chapman Catt (played by Angelica Houston), who exhibits the stiff, formalized, and sometimes condescending type of oration that is commonly attributed to Victorians, along with the older suffragettes. This can actually make viewers think they were from today and were trapped in the early 20th Century.

      This can make me add about the music, which is actually more in tune to the 2010s instead of the 1910s. While the clothing seems accurate, a few things like the bonnets and cars seem to be in advance years instead of in times. The film does present the rivalry between Miss Paul and Missus Catt, yet it has them reconciling, which never happened. There were times I considered Hilary Swank too pretty to be Alice Paul and the Australian actress, Frances O'Conner, doesn't really know how to hide her accent in playing Lucy Burn (I am also noting with sadness that we have American characters played by foreign actors in greater numbers).

     One reviewer called it "a 1912 version of Sex in the City", which is justified. The footage of the film is jagged in some scenes, with an MTV style editing that gets the viewer confused. Miss Burns and Miss Paul discuss the latter's lover in manner of school girls talking about some guy, mostly for the sake of adding romance into the story. The character Ben Weissmann is fictional, only added to make Miss Burns more relatable by giving her a boyfriend. Yet, the romance seems cliched or forced, depending on the scene, which is interesting as neither Miss Paul nor Miss Burns ever married (it wasn't unusual at the time for two women to live together without a man in their lives). To handle the spirit of feminism, the film doesn't allow them to do the old fashioned (read, "sexist) courtship that was common at the time to the more relaxed type of dating that was common in the Twenties. Fortunately, there's no sex scene, yet one scene has Alice Paul taking a bath and based on her hands and leg position, the implication is that Miss Alice Paul is having, as TV Tropes calls it, a "date with Rosie palms." As awkward as the romance is, the moment is completely unnecessary because it causes the film to confirm what critics of feminists tend to believe: that feminists reject virtue and chastity in favor of sleeping around, for the sake of advancement, then disregard the men they slept with to cling to their sisters, considering another woman as the only man in their life. I may not be a feminist, but if I was I would find the portrayal too generalizing. I know a feminist who is planning on becoming a nun and she is not straying from that path with sex, drugs, and rock n roll. I know another who is in a chaste relationship with her boyfriend. Not only that, both are pro-life, which clashes the common stereotype that feminists support abortions (by the way, they told me of when the Feminists for Life started, one of its members actually met Miss Paul who told them that, with a few exceptions, the suffragettes were opposed to abortions). I am positive if Miss Paul, Miss Burns, or any of the suffragettes of the times saw this film, they would have protested their portrayal. 

     Yet, the darker side of the picketing is not something portrayed lightly. During the time the US was at war with Germany, Miss Paul and the others picket the White House, with signs that compare Wilson to the Kaiser, as the Silent Sentinels and are arrested on trumped up charges. When Miss Burns was arrested, she and the others refuse to pay the fine all because it "would be admitting guilt." They are sent to a workhouse in a set up that appears like something you'd hear in the Holocaust (the women are stripped of their clothes in one scene and shows their nudity, largely to cater to the male audience). In real life, the women were given only one bar of soap to wash with upon entry, after being stripped, so they refused to use it. Some of the other horrors of the Occoquan Workhouse are kept out of the film, however. The conditions were unsanitary and the prisoners shared things with others who were sick (there is a moment where maggots are found in soup). The film also doesn't include the day when the wards brought in black sex workers to humiliate the suffragettes with anything imaginable (show the racism in the parade, but not have white women resist a horny black man from rape?). President Wilson did pardon the prisoners, though they refused and had to be forced out. This gives us the Night of Terror where Miss Paul goes on a hunger strike, happening in November. Miss Paul is shown being forced fed raw eggs and milk by the wardens, something that is appalling, even for the time. 

     The film merges the two events together, has a fictional senator attempt to rescue his wife (who he was about to divorce for joining the Suffrage movement), the news of the mistreatment is announced and the women are released. What the film excluded was one of the women actually died of a heart attack during her time. It is in this that Wilson is further pressured into moving for the 19th Amendment. This is shown to pass in 1920, with Tennessee making the deciding vote of the necessary 36 votes to pass. Thus, the film has the times right when white men were making and passing laws to be the ones who pass this amendment and allow women to vote (just in time for Warren Harding's election). However, the fact that it records the deciding vote done because the man who voted was told to by his mother does give the results an anti-climatic feel (as opposed to the idea that he grew a back bone and voted "aye"). The film doesn't include the days when President Wilson suffered a stroke and his wife operated the White House (which one could conclude was the one time we had a woman running the country in a time when women were attempt to get the right to vote nationwide). 

    Iron Jawed Angels barely passes the Benschel Test on most occasions. Ben Weissman, the senator, and his wife, are fictional characters added to give the audience suppose this happened sort of characters. These are the things that make it hard to see how good the film is, along with the MTV style editing, the Sex in the City moments on a view occasions, the sight of a few anachronisms, and the music score that doesn't fit. It's a secular film, for the most part, despite it taking place in a time when Christianity (specifically Protestantism) was ingrained in the American society. Alice Paul's faith as a Quaker is hardly explored, which is sad because there are plenty of times to explore how she felt of her community's (and her mother's) stance on suffrage. In the matter, the discussion outside of the film is all too brief: non-Christians fire off specific passages in the Bible that are deemed sexist by today's standards (Genesis 3:16, 1 Timothy 2:11-5, etc.) while Christians offer essays explaining a passage and allow it to be timeless instead of archaic (Bible Reference). Of course, neither has their views brought up or examined by anyone in the film. It's also noteworthy that none of the Quaker wisdom is issued forth in the film (only something to be referenced by Miss Paul on the matter of her background). The course language that arises is questionable and the inaccuracies of history are kept down, but not completely. So, Iron Jawed Angels does make for a mediocre film. If there is any lessons from it, it's that there really was a struggle for women to acquire the right to vote and it shows as an example of how far our nation is from its ancient inspirations (Athens and Rome). As I mentioned in "Food for Thought: Republic vs Democracy", suffrage is universal today, with only a few exceptions given to minors and incarcerated citizens. However, when the 19th Amendment was passed, African American women had to deal with the Grandfather clause and other restrictions to vote while the younger women couldn't vote until the 1970s. Also, as history shows, getting the right to vote was not the end of feminism or sexism (and to some, the battle for sex equality is still being fought on today). Yet, it is nice to see what our fore-mothers went through to make what came after possible.