The Pantastic Mr. Pox

Is it racist to make fun of the way Koreans write names of movies? Anyway, normally this inconsequential little movie would not merit an entry, but I have a lot of thoughts that are vaguely connected to it, so here goes:

When I was 12, my family up and moved to Central America. Why? Well, that's a different story, but let's summarize by saying that my Mom was avoiding stuff in the States, and they thought it would be good for us kids. On that account, my parents were completely most formative event of our youth.

In Belize, we neglected to bring much with us of American culture. We had one cassette tape, with The Beach Boys on one side and Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons on the other. Even now, when we hear one of those songs, it transports us back to our little cinder block house, the delicious bread, the little colored pencil drawings of fish that I would draw.

As for books, I remember 3 that I had. One was a Shakespeare Complete Works that I have still today. It was ancient, and in my youth I was convinced it was hundreds of years old--perhaps a first edition! The other two were Little House in the Big Woods and a collection of short stories by Road Dahl, including The Fantastic Mr. Fox. I read all three over and over, due to the absence of anything else.

It is rather obvious that the movie did not live up to the tender regard in which I hold "The Fantastic Mr. Fox" It would have been an impressive feat to live up to my childhood memories. I should have thereby known that it would be a disappointment; it could not have been otherwise.  Nonetheless, the depth of disappointment was surprising. The additions made to the story were not unnecessary; they were poisonous. The charm of the story lay primarily in an appeal to the most basic human comforts: enormous amounts of delicious food. It was this same comfort that I remember in "Little House in the Big Woods" The storehouses filled with smoked meat made my mouth water, and that simple pleasure was enough. It was not necessary to add silliness, or worse to complicate the theme from one of simple pleasure to an analysis of human nature and filial dynamics. It would be turning "Little House" from a story about the joys of childhood into a Telenovela.

There remains one story from the collection that is untainted, however. "The Story of Henry Sugar" was even more formative to me, and I think that I shall go find an online text of it and reread it. Perhaps some of my childhood pleasure remains in that text, and I could certainly use some of it now.