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Pure Living

11/7/2025

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#81 - Mushishi
1999-2002 / 2005-2006, Ages 16 and Up

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a wanderer who studies the ethereal organisms that exist on the fringes of the tangible world.
​
All was darkness. All was silence. My family was away for the night. No work awaited me in the morning. Thus, all was also contentment. Not ready for bed just yet, I was wandering through the vast halls of Netflix when I came across an anime that seemed unusual for reasons that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I decided to spare one more half hour and watch the first episode. As clichéd as it sounds, the next twenty-four minutes really did pass like a dream. The sensation stayed with me long after the credits finished rolling. I didn’t begin the second episode right then and there. I simply turned off my TV and laid on my couch for what I thought was just a few more minutes, never wanting this feeling to leave me. The ending theme flowed like a starry river through my mind’s ears, until my stepfather’s heirloom clock chimed midnight and sleep at last beckoned me. And what a beautiful, peaceful sleep it was. [Note: as of writing, this anime is no longer available on Netflix.)
 
They are known as mushi. They have existed since time immemorial in a myriad of forms, from plants and animals to weather phenomena to shapes unnamable. They exist on a plane where the corporeal can never tread, more primitive than bacteria and yet as powerful as gods. Some worship them as bringers of miracles, while others fear them as bringers of madness. Humans who make their living studying them are called mushishi, or mushi masters, one of whom is a lone young man named Ginko. With his striking silver hair and single piercing emerald eye, he is as much a mystery as the mushi he researches. In strict lifelong devotion to his work, Ginko wanders the countryside, aiding those he finds afflicted by the mushi, and ever teaching them and himself about these otherworldly organisms along the way.
 
The initial concept of Mushishi was inspired by author and manga artist Yuki Urushibara’s childhood love of insects and grade-school science. This makes sense considering that the Japanese word mushi primarily means “insect” or “bug.” The idea was later shaped by her pragmatic approach to belief, or lack thereof, in the supernatural, as she states in Volume 1:
 
“I absolutely do not believe (nowadays) in ghosts or fairytale creatures, but I wish they did exist. [. . .] ‘Mushi’ were born as a part of that dilemma, and so they take on the form of monsters at times. But only a little while back, monsters lived very close to people. I’m kind of envious of that.”
 
For his part, upon reading the manga, anime director Hiroshi Nagahama was impressed by its emphasis on how we often miss smaller, seemingly insignificant things the first time around, and how personal and life-changing rediscovering them can be. According to an interview statement from the Complete Series DVD:
 
“Just by glancing at the cover of the manga, I couldn’t tell what this book was about. [. . .] So, that made the shock I got when I read it bigger [. . . It’s] not something that deals with good or evil [or] portrays only happy endings [or] focuses only on characters [or] emphasizes story settings too much. The Mushishi manga is something that’s really close to the feeling of meeting and talking with people. [. . .] Like this, you’ll discover new things. So, if you read it at different times in your life, you’ll be surprised to find things that you missed before. This is a manga that makes you notice many things that you overlooked before.”
 
To be honest, I don’t think the monochrome comic style of manga does Urushibara’s story justice. Nagahama uses all the powers of visual media to bring her series to life in every sense of the word. Ginko’s travels take him through lush green forests; towering mountains covered in autumn leaves and immaculate snow; and picturesque cobalt oceans, all painted in gorgeous watercolors and filled with the natural sounds which stir the heart and calm the spirit. Speaking of sound, composer Toshio Masuda did for Mushishi what Austin Wintory did for Thatgamecompany’s 2012 indie adventure video game, Journey. The show’s soundtrack is an exquisite blend of gentle piano, synth, and percussion and mystical chimes, bells, and wind instruments. Each episode has its own end-credits theme unique to its own individual story, ranging in tone from hopeful, meditative, and wondrous, to disquieting, cryptic, and melancholy. Combined with enigmatic vignette titles reminiscent of nature poetry—such as “The Pillow Pathway,” “Those Who Inhale the Dew,” “Where Sea Meets Man,” “The Sleeping Mountain,” A Sea of Writings,” and “The Sound of Footsteps on the Grass”—these tracks provide a Zen-like experience for any listener.
 
This is why this series feels so down-to-earth despite its supernatural elements. Another reason is its anthological format. In each of these vignettes, Ginko encounters a new set of characters and a new mushi to contend with, resolves the issue at hand, then leaves without ever seeing them again. The anime is so faithful to the manga that literally the only difference between the two is the order in which these vignettes occur. To borrow a sentiment from Tolkien, you can “wander” through any story and never feel truly lost. Such a format is a wonderful way to illustrate how life, not unlike Ginko and the mushi, has no beginning or end; it simply flows, and everything just flows with it. That said, I would personally recommend starting with the very first story, “The Green Gathering” (manga)/“The Green Seat” (anime). This is where Ginko provides an ambiguous yet beautifully profound explanation of the mystery that is the mushi, representing familiar flora and fauna with parts of the hand and arm—away from the heart—and the Mushi with the heart, the last being so close to the source of all life as to be life itself.
 
GINKO: I suppose there’s really no simple way to explain what they are. But let me give you an analogy. (Points to the parts of his body accordingly as he explains.) Say these four fingers represent animal life and your thumb represents plant life. Human beings would be here, at the tip of your middle finger, the furthest point from your heart. Moving toward the palm of your hand, you find the lower forms of animal life. When you get to your wrist, though, that’s where your blood vessels combine into one, right?
SHINRA: (Listening intently.) Right.
GINKO: This is where you would find fungi and microorganisms. From here, it becomes more and more difficult to distinguish between plant and animal life. Even so, there is still life beyond this point. And if you keep going, all the way up your arm, past your shoulder, when you get to this point, at the place that’s closest to your heart, right here, these creatures are the mushi. They are life in its purest form.
 
But what else is it that makes mushi so strange—and so dangerous? What separates them from ordinary parasites is their unfathomable abilities. Examples include:
 
Consuming sound or silence as food;
 
SHIRASAWA: (Concerned.) Even on nights like tonight, when all is silent, Maho can still hear things. Roars, whispers, movements. The sounds never cease, even if he plugs his ears. Those horns seem to serve as new ears that never deafen.
 
Literally bringing a host’s dreams into the waking world;
 
JIN: (Bitterly.) That green mold disease. It first began to spread through the people that were closest to me. It took my wife, then my neighbors, and after that, it spread to the houses across the way. There, before my very eyes, the exact same scene that had been in my dreams became a reality.
 
Dissolving other lifeforms into water;
 
DR. ADASHINO: (Urgently.) But her body. It’s transparent! [. . .] (Thinking out loud.) The seawater washed off the green pigmentation, but I’m still concerned about her condition. Her body, it’s like uncooked dough.
 
And living in a host’s eyeballs and granting prophetic sight.
 
AMANE: (A little sadly.) As time went on, I could see more and more through my eyelids. The past, the future, everything. Nothing could obstruct my view. But strangely enough, there was still one thing I could never see. And that was . . . my own future.
 
And then there’s Ginko himself. As if his pale complexion isn’t enough to make him stick out, there’s his 20th century attire—button shirt, slacks, trench coat, etc.—in what is supposed to be a fictionalized 19th century Japan. Urushibara had originally wanted to set Mushishi in modern times and designed him accordingly. Even after changing the era, she kept his design, partly as a subtle nod to his more worldly knowledge. In fact, Ginko has no choice in his occupation as a mushi master, as he is a rare individual who attracts mushi wherever he goes, hence why he can’t stay in one place too long and why he constantly smokes a special tobacco to repel them. But he is neither a tragic hero nor a semi-divine being. Others, whether they understand it or not, can see mushi or at least sense them, just as well as he:
 
SHINRA: (Filled with fascination.) Sometimes when I’m by myself, these creatures suddenly appear out of nowhere. I have no idea what they are or where they come from, but they’re fun to watch. So one day I drew these pictures and showed them to Grandma so she could see them, too.
_____
 
SUZU: (Puzzled after a butterfly-like mushi flies unseen out of the container she’s just opened.) That was strange . . . It seemed as if something flew out.
_____
 
TAGANE: (Shocked.) What was that?
FATHER: (Worried.) What’s wrong?
TAGANE: Was that smoke? Something came out of the inkstone. (Points excitedly at the cloud-like floating by the ceiling.) Look! It’s right there!
FATHER: (Confused.) I see nothing.
TAGANE: (Stammers, equally confused.)
 
And like any human, Ginko can also be sarcastic, crack jokes, and get grumpy, but thankfully minus the “cross vein,” “sweat drop,” or other over-the-top anime emotion symbols that would clash with the story’s solemn aesthetic:
 
GINKO:
- (Smirking at Renzu.) You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you?
- (Hangs his head with a sigh.) I knew I’d regret this.
- (Grinning at his boat mate.) You’ll be lucky she hasn’t forgotten you by the time you get home.
- (Frustrated when he sees Miharu obliviously digging for mushi in a hole.) Hey! Are you even listening to me?
 
Nevertheless, his interest in all things mushi and his satisfaction in helping affected people are genuine. Equal parts scholar, physician, biologist, and counsellor, Ginko’s teachings regarding the mushi are freely given with a fatherly patience and dignity:
 
GINKO
- Very few have the gift of seeing them, but they exist in every corner of our world.
- See, the mushi aren’t really our friends at all, more like unusual neighbors. You can never really trust them. But . . . you’re perfectly free to like them.
 
That’s not to say all Ginko’s cases are straightforward or have nice, neat endings. Whether due to his own inexperience, or to foolish civilians and arrogant fellow mushi masters wanting to abuse mushi’s power, adore them with dangerous obsession, or take reckless vengeance on them—things that his principles as both a mushi master and human being would never allow—there are times when people won’t heed his advice, with dire consequences:
 
GINKO:
- (To Nagi to keep him from fighting Akoya’s father.) Those who continue to use the mushi for their own needs slowly lose their sanity. And soon after that, they’ll die. (With distain to Akoya’s father.) You don’t have what it takes to handle the mushi.
- (Sharply to the villagers cutting down their trees to get rid of the mushi.) You’re acting like a pack of frightened monkeys, not men. [. . .] Face your fear like rational men, instead of burning it like a mob.
 
Still, all Ginko can do is move on and try again. While his priority is the humans in his care, it is rarely with pleasure that he will kill mushi. The one rule that he lives by is that no matter how ghostly or frightening or bizarre, they are as much a part of nature as any lifeform, and as such, are just as deserving of existence:
 
GINKO: (Softly to Jin as he sleeps restlessly.) You are not to blame, and neither are the mushi. The both of you were just carrying on with your lives. This wasn’t anyone’s fault. Don’t die. You’ve done nothing wrong.
 
Mushishi may not seem impressive at first glance to the typical hardcore manga/anime fan. There are no epic battles, exaggerated character designs, alien landscapes, or excessive fan service. Here instead is magical realism at its most honest, as much a fictional nature documentary as a supernatural mystery, with a protagonist and side characters each as authentic and relatable as its eponymous creatures are each fascinating and unique. Mushishi is a rare piece of Japanese fiction that quietly invites us to look at the natural world with awe and wonder and contemplate our woeful ignorance and ever-fragile relationship with it. Best experienced at night, one story at a time, without rushing, just as real life intended.
 
CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 9.55 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” - Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund​

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Dream Chimes” - Jake Searl

https://www.facebook.com/JakeSearlMusic
All other music and sound clips are from the English dub of Season 1 of Mushishi (written and directed by Hiroshi Nagahama; animated by Artland; licensed by Funimation)

EPISODES:
Ep. 1: “The Green Seat”
Ep. 3: “Tender Horns”
Ep. 4: “The Pillow Pathway”
Ep. 5: “The Traveling Swamp”
Ep. 6: “Those Who Inhale the Dew”
Ep. 8: “Where Sea Meets Man”
Ep. 10: “The White Which Lives Within the Ink Stone”
Ep. 15: “Pretense of Spring”
Ep. 16: “Sunrise Serpent”
Ep. 19: “String from the Sky”
Ep. 24: “The Journey to the Field of Fire”
Ep. 25: “Eye of Fortune, Eye of Misfortune”
Ep. 26: “The Sound of Footsteps on the Grass”

Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Mushishi on Wikipedia

Yuki Urushibara on Wikipedia

Hiroshi Nagahama on Wikipedia

Mushishi (manga) on Goodreads

Mushishi  (anime) on IMDb

Mushishi  on Tv Tropes

Mushishi  on Fandom

​Mushishi (anime) on Crunchyroll

Mushishi  on Barnes & Noble

Mushishi  on Amazon

Mushishi  on eBay

​
^^ Back to Adaptations, Retellings, and Old Tales in New Light
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Mother Over Mind and Matter

5/5/2023

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# 72 - The Rats of NIMH
1971/1982, Ages 12 and Up

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a frightened mother mouse who seeks out a colony of strange but powerful rats for the sake of her endangered family.
(5/5/23)

​
The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
On April 19th, 2012, video game education YouTube channel Extra Credits uploaded a video called “True Female Characters – How to Write Deep and Interesting Characters.” As an idea for a potential exciting game involving a strong, female protagonist that audiences can take seriously and emphasize with, host Daniel Floyd proposes “the struggle of a single mother trying to protect her children while crossing a war-torn country.” So far as I know, no such game exists right now. However, there is a story—a children’s story, no less—with a very similar idea. The mother in question is not caught in a war in the traditional sense, but her fight for her family’s survival against a catastrophic enemy that doesn’t even know she exists feels no less turbulent, especially as she’s not even human, but instead one of the smallest and most hunted creatures in the animal kingdom.

Mrs. Frisby, a field mouse living on the Fitzgibbons’ farm, struggles to provide for her four children without her late husband, Jonathan. Along with the daily chores of finding food and hiding from the humans and their ferocious cat, Dragon, Mrs. Frisby must now prepare to move her family to their summer home in the woods in order to avoid Farmer Fitzgibbon’s deadly plow. But anxiety turns to fear when her youngest son, Timothy, falls ill with pneumonia, making him unable to safely endure the journey. When she learns of a mysterious colony of rats who gained extraordinary intelligence after their experimentation at the science facility, NIMH, Mrs. Frisby must gather her courage to request their help in making the miracle she so desperately needs for her son, never suspecting that she will provide them with a miracle of her own.

One of the few novels by Robert Leslie Carroll Conly (Robert C. O’Brien), Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH was inspired by the research of John B. Calhoun, an ethologist (non-human behavior researcher) who famously used rats and mice in his experiments on overpopulation and societal collapse throughout the 1960’s and 70’s, and much of whose work took place at the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), to this day the primary agency of the U.S. government responsible for biomedical research. The author had prior worked at National Geographic before turning to fiction writing. When his contract with them forbade him from publishing at other companies, he used his mother’s maiden name, O’Brien, to create the pseudonym he’s now best known by.

The Secret of NIMH is the directorial feature-length debut—and most critically acclaimed film as of 2023—of American animation legend Don Bluth, after he left Walt Disney Productions to establish his own animation studio in 1979. Funnily enough, legalities also forced O’Brien’s heroine to undergo a name change for the film: Mrs. Frisby became Mrs. Brisby in order to avoid copyright infringement with the Frisbee flying disc. To be honest, I don’t think Disney, had they tried, could have pulled this movie off back then because of the inappropriately cute musical it likely would have turned O’Brien’s heavy subject matter into (maybe not Timmy to the Rescue level inappropriate, but still), not to mention, in hindsight, Disney’s own disastrous first attempt at dark fantasy, The Black Cauldron, in 1985.

In defense of Disney, though, I do feel that O’Brien’s writing, though sincere, is rather dry, to the point where Bluth’s fantasy embellishments don’t seem quite as cheapening as they could have. This is perhaps the greatest difference between the two versions: O’Brien’s more realistic, nature-based account, versus Bluth’s medieval Redwall epic. For example, O’Brien leaves little to the imagination in terms of the literal science behind the rats’ captivity and subsequent evolution, shedding light not only on the experiments, but the human doctors conducting them. Despite our sympathy to the rats’ plight, he shows the humans as more ignorant than evil:

BOOK:

“So the young woman’s name was Julie; the young man was George. They all put gloves on, long, tough, plastic ones that came to their elbows. One by one we were taken from our cages, held gently but firmly by Dr. Schultz while Julie fastened around each of our necks a narrow ribbon of yellow plastic bearing a number. I learned eventually that mine was number A-10.
They were kind, especially Julie. I remember that when one rat was being tagged, she looked at it and said, ‘Poor little thing, he’s frightened. Look how he’s trembling.’
‘What kind of biologist are you?’ said Dr. Shultz. ‘The “poor little thing” is a she, not a he.’

[. . .]

A little later in the morning they came around again, this time pushing a table on wheels. It was loaded with a bottle of some clear liquid, a long rack of sharp needles, and a plunger. Once more I was lifted from the cage. This time George did the holding while Dr. Shultz fastened one of the needles to the plunger. I felt a sharp pain in my hip; then it was over. We all got used to that, for from then on we got injections at least twice a week. What they were injecting and why, I did not know. Yet for twenty of us those injections were to change our whole lives.

[. . .]

During the days that followed, our lives fell into a pattern, and the reason for our captivity gradually became clear. Dr. Shultz was a neurologist—that is, an expert on brains, nerves, intelligence, and how people learn things. He hoped, by experimenting on us, to find out whether certain injections could help us to learn more and faster. The two younger people working with him, George and Julie, were graduate students in biology.
‘Watch always,’ he told them, ‘for signs of improvements, faster learning, quicker reaction in group A as compared to group B, and both as compared to the control group.’” (Pg. 108-113)

Bluth, meanwhile, keeps his NIMH in near darkness in every sense, painting it as a hellish dungeon, filled with suffering animal prisoners being senselessly tormented by nameless human monsters, all awash in dark colors, tense music, and nightmarish animation:

FILM:

NICODEMUS: (Explaining to Mrs. Brisby): We were captured, put in cages, and sent to a place called NIMH. There were many animals there . . . in cages. They were put through the most unspeakable tortures . . . to satisfy some scientific curiosity. Often at night, I could hear them crying out in anguish. Twenty rats and eleven mice were given injections. Our world began changing.

Likewise, while I wouldn’t call the book’s characters dull per say, I do think that the film makes them more memorable by comparison. To name a few: Mr. Ages, a mouse scientist and physician, goes from reserved acquaintance to reclusive grump; helpful crow Jeremy goes from naïve youth to klutzy clown; Justin, the rats’ virtuous captain of the guard, goes from cordial sentry to witty warrior; Nicodemus, the rats’ benevolent leader who wants the colony to live an honest, self-sufficient existence away from man, goes from practical, eye-patch-donning strategist to powerful, glowing-eyed wizard; and Jenner, a selfish rat who wants to live on the comfort of human technology, goes from defector not even present in the book to full-on villain with beastly intentions.

With all these differences in presentation and personality, the fact that Mrs. Frisby stays pretty much the same in both versions is as significant as it is impressive.

Take note, writers! This is what a GOOD strong female character looks like!

Yes, she’s physically weak, unsophisticated, and very fearful, much of which, of course, stems from being a mouse. But that same fear, as well as the courage she gains later, stems also from being a grieving widow and single mother. She mourns the loss of her husband and feels lost without him, but knows full well she has to buck up for their children’s sake. On top of that, she’s just such a lovely sweetheart. Not only is her graciousness and compassion refreshing, but the open mind and heart she shows when faced with scientific principles, ancient magic, or anything else beyond her comprehension, are inspiring:

BOOK:

“When Mrs. Frisby went into her house, she found Timothy asleep and the other children waiting, frightened, sad, and subdued.
‘He went to sleep right after you left,’ Teresa said. “He’s waked up twice, and the second time he wasn’t delirious. He said his chest hurt and his head hurt. But Mother, he seemed so weak—he could hardly talk. He asked where you were, and I told him. Then he went back to sleep.’
Mrs. Frisby went to where Timothy lay, a small ball of damp fur curled under a bit of cloth blanket. He looked scarcely larger than he had when she and Mr. Frisby had carried him to Mr. Ages as an infant, and the thought of that trip made her wish Mr. Frisby were alive to reassure the children and tell them not to worry. But he was not, and it was she who must say it.” (Pg. 27-28)

[. . .]

“Books. Her husband, Jonathan, had told her about them. He had taught her and the children to read (the children had mastered it quickly, but she herself could barely manage the simplest words; she had thought perhaps it was because she was older). He had also told her about electricity. He had known these things—and so, it emerged, did the rats. It had never occurred to her until now to wonder how he knew them. He had always known so many things, and she had accepted that as a matter of course. But who had taught him to read? Strangely, it also emerged that he had known the rats. Had they taught him? What had been his connection with them? She remembered his long visits with Mr. Ages. And Mr. Ages knew the rats, too.
She sighed. Perhaps when the meeting was over and she had had a chance to talk to Nicodemus—and had told him about Timothy and Moving Day—perhaps when that was settled, he could explain all this to her.” (Pg. 81-82)

FILM:

(The mouse children watch their mother spoon-feed a bed-ridden Timothy some medicinal broth.)
CYNTHIA: Is Timmy gonna die?
MRS. BRISBY: (Calmly.) No, sweetheart. He’s just very sick.
CYNTHIA: What’s the matter with him, Mother?
MRS. BRISBY: Mr. Ages called it pneumonia.
TERESA: (In a worried whisper.) Pneumonia . . .
CYNTHIA: (Sadly.) When will he get better?
MRS. BRISBY: Soon, I hope.

[. . .]


MRS. BRISBY: (In a tear-filled voice.) [Farmer Fitzgibbon] will be back tomorrow. I wish Jonathan were here.
AUNTY SHREW: (Firmly.) Well, he’s not. (In disgust at how close she is to falling apart.) Stop it.
MRS. BRISBY: (Takes some deep breaths and calms down.) What am I going to do?
AUNTY SHREW: (In a kinder tone.) We’ll think of something.

[. . .]

MRS. BRISBY: (To herself, trying to be brave as she enters the Great Owl’s home.) Timothy. Remember Timothy.

[. . .]

NICODEMUS: (As he shows Mrs. Brisby a special red-jeweled amulet.) [. . .] Courage of the heart is very rare. The stone has a power when it’s there.
MRS. BRISBY: Look! An inscription. (Reading the back of the amulet.) “You can unlock any door if you only have the key.” (Humbled and grateful as Nicodemus places it around her neck.) Oh, thank you. I will treasure it always.

Now, I’ve heard it argued that this story’s premise has a fatal narrative flaw: the fact that a “normal” mouse has a name, wears clothes, and displays other human habits and traits supposedly negates the novelty and significance of the rats’ abilities. A fair assessment but allow me to respectfully offer a counterargument. Consider the biblical tale of Adam and Eve. Like God’s first man and woman before the Forbidden Fruit, Mrs. Frisby is not unintelligent, just unenlightened; in a word, innocent. The rats, however, are Adam and Eve after eating—or should I say, being forced-fed—the Fruit, in the form of NIMH’s DNA-altering injections. This results in a metaphorical exile from Paradise when their animal innocence is destroyed. For all their physical and intellectual progress, they are tragically unable to return to the blissful ignorance of their ordinary rat brethren:

BOOK:

“Occasionally we came upon other rats, and a few times we talked with them, but not for long. Because after just a few words they would begin to look at us strangely and edge away. Somehow they could tell that we were different. I think we even looked different; either the diet or the injections at Nimh had made us bigger and stronger than other rats, and all the strange rats we saw looked, to us, surprisingly weak and puny. So we were set apart from even our own kind.” (Pg. 144)

FILM:

NICODEMUS: (To Mrs. Brisby.) Jonathan couldn’t tell you about NIMH because the injections slowed the aging process. You see, you would have grown old while he remained young.

[. . .]

MRS. BRISBY: Plan? What is the Plan?
NICODEMUS: To live without stealing, of course.
JUSTIN: (Solemnly.) It’s wrong to take electricity from the farmer.
NICODEMUS: (Gravely.) My child . . . we can no longer live as rats. We know too much.

When I first experienced the more academic Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and the more mystical The Secret of NIMH as a child, I was too young to fully understand, let alone appreciate, the story in either format. Having given both a sporting chance as an adult, though, I think the fact that a single story of a mouse facing impossible odds out of maternal love is being well told practically in two separate genres as well as media not only shows exceptional storytelling on two different artists’ parts, but makes for a more unique and enriching experience. Whether it’s Mrs. Frisby or Mrs. Brisby whose hero’s journey you join, it will be one that can inspire even the meekest of souls to accomplish the most incredible feats.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
"The Call" - Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Opened Mind” - Alex Nelson

https://www.facebook.com/alex.j.nelson.7

All book excerpts are from Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH by Robert C. O'Brien (1986 paperback edition; published by Aladdin Books, an imprint of Macmillan Publishing Co.)
 
All other music and sound clips are from The Secret of NIMH (directed by Don Bluth; production by United Artists, Aurora Productions, and Don Bluth Productions; distributed by MGM/UA Entertainment Co. [United States] and United International Pictures [International]).

​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on Wikipedia

The Secret of NIMH on Wikipedia

Robert C. O'Brien on Wikipedia

Don Bluth on Wikipedia

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on Goodreads

The Secret of NIMH on IMDb

The Secret of NIMH on Rotten Tomatoes

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on Tv Tropes
​
The Secret of NIMH on Tv Tropes

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on Amazon

​
The Secret of NIMH on Amazon

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on Barnes & Noble

The Secret of NIMH on Barnes & Noble

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on eBay

The Secret of NIMH on eBay
​
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A Shrinking Feeling

1/7/2022

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# 64 - The Incredible Shrinking Man
1956/1957, Ages 16 and Up

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a man whose fate appears to be sealed when he begins shrinking away with no end in sight.
(1/7/22)

​
The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
Ever since I saw Walt Disney’s 1951 classic Alice in Wonderland as a child, I’ve been utterly fascinated by the idea of size alteration, a fairy-tale old concept that has persisted well into modern times. While giant monster flicks were huge (no pun intended) in the mid-20th century, abnormal shrinkage was also eagerly explored—and exploited—in cinema: Fantastic Voyage, Attack of the Puppet People, Dr. Cyclops, The Phantom Planet, the list goes on. However, for all these filmmakers’ albeit flimsy attempts to ground their plots in scientific reasoning and plausibility, this trope has generally been treated like either a grand adventure or a wacky dilemma, but little else. Be honest, would you willingly try to tame a spider the size of a bear?
 
Scott Carey is an ordinary 6 ft-tall man on vacation when he is suddenly enveloped in a mist that vanishes as quickly as it comes. Aside from a strange glittering on his skin, nothing appears to be amiss. Until his clothes begin to feel looser. And his wife, Louise, no longer has to stand on tiptoes in order to kiss him. And his wedding ring slips off his finger. Soon, the truth can’t be denied: Scott is shrinking. First comes frustration as doctors struggle in vain find a cure and his physical strength and social standing diminish with his size. Then humiliation as his lack of height labels him a freak in the eyes of his fellow man. Then rage as he becomes little more than a plaything at the mercy of towering giants. But these emotions pale against the terror of being mere inches tall. A run-in with a now monstrous animal traps him inside his cellar. And still he continues to shrink. Now a prisoner in the ever “expanding” depths of his own house, Scott’s daily fight for survival forces him to question his existence, his reality, and his very humanity as it threatens to disappear forever along with him.
 
Author Richard Matheson, also famous for What Dreams May Come, A Stir of Echoes, and I Am Legend, was inspired to write his book (originally called simply The Shrinking Man) by a scene from the 1953 comedy Let’s Do it Again, in which Gary accidentally puts Frank’s larger hat, and it sinks below his ears. This prompted Matheson to wonder: What if a man put on his own hat, and the same thing happened? While not as prolific, director Jack Arnold was a fine sci-fi master in his own right, best known, on top of Shrinking Man, for the classics It Came from Outer Space, Tarantula!, and, one of Universal Monster greats, Creature From the Black Lagoon.
 
One unique, if random, feature of the novel’s nonlinear structure: Within the seventeen chapters, pre-cellar flashbacks are sub-headed with Scott’s then height in inches, starting at “68”” in Chapter Two and ending at “7”” in Chapter Fifteen, when his entrapment is finally highlighted. The film, by contrast, presents the plot points in chronological order; not quite as interesting, but certainly easier to follow in the long run.
 
Being 1950’s science fiction, even an earthbound story wouldn’t be the same without something to call “alien.” Matheson combines chillingly vivid prose with epic fantasy imagery, and lead actor Grant Williams gives a somber and haunting narration over well-made oversized props and ambitious but solid visual effects, to turn ordinary living creatures into beasts of mythological proportions, and a common junk-filled cellar into a lonely, hostile world that this lone, tragic soul is condemned to traverse.
 
BOOK:
 
          “The spider rushed at him across the shadowed sands, scrabbling wildly on its stalklike legs. Its body was a giant, glossy egg that trembled blackly as it charged across the windless mounds, its wake a score of sand-trickling scratches.
          Paralysis locked the man. He saw the poisonous glitter of the spider eyes. He watched it scramble across a loglike stick, body mounted high on its motion-blurred legs, as high as the man’s shoulders.
          Behind him, suddenly, the steel-encased flame flared into life with a thunder that shook the air. It jarred the man loose. With a sucking gasp, he spun around and ran, the damp sand crunching beneath his racing sandals.
 
          [ . . . ]
 
          The man dashed between the two giant cans that loomed like tanks above him. He threaded, racing, in between the silent bulks of all the clustered cans, past green and red and yellow sides all caked with livid smears.
 
          [ . . . ]
 
          The great orange mass loomed over the man now as he headed once more for the edge of the cliff. There was no time for hesitation. With an extra springing of his legs, he flung himself across the gulf and clutched with spastic fingers at the roughened ledge.
          Wincing, he drew himself onto the splintered orange surface just as the spider reached the cliff’s edge. Jumping up, the man began running along the narrow ledge, not looking back. [ . . . ]
 
          [ . . . ]
 
          He limped slowly past the silent steel tower, which was an oil burner; past the huge red serpent, which was a nozzleless garden hose clumsily coiled on the floor, past the wide cushion whose case was covered with flower designs; past the immense orange structure, which was a stack of two wooden lawn chairs; past the great croquet mallets hanging in their racks. One of the wickets from the croquet set had been stuck in a groove on top of the lawn chair. It was what the man, in his flight, had grabbed for and missed. And the tanklike cans were used paint cans, and the spider was a black widow.
          He lived in a cellar.” (Pg. 4-8)
 
FILM:
 
SCOTT: (Narrating; looking around the cellar with its gargantuan objects) The cellar floor stretched before me like some vast primeval plane, empty of life, littered with the relics of a vanished race. No desert-island castaway ever faced so bleak a prospect.
 
[ . . . ]
 
SCOTT: (Narrating; staring at the retreating spider he’s just fought off with a lance-sized pin) In my hunt for food, I had become the hunted. This time I survived. But I was no longer alone in my universe. (Turns and slumps against the wall of a matchbox) I had an enemy, the most terrifying ever beheld by human eyes.
 
Countless sci-fi stories of this era were created when fears of radiation and nuclear war were fresh in Americans’ minds, and Shrinking Man was no exception. But here, the sensational idea of shrinking is treated with surprisingly realistic, if Kafka-esque, care. Scott’s condition is described as a sort of “anti-cancer.” Yet just like traditional cancer, after the initial shock wears off, the practical implications inevitably rear their ugly heads. Scott’s worsening state means he can no longer be the breadwinner, leading to bills, bills and more bills. Fortunately (or not), there are plenty of healthy and insensitive parasites more than willing to milk such a fantastic sob story for all it’s worth, a fact Scott must make use of for his family’s sake, even as it erodes both his ego and his marriage.
 
BOOK:
 
          “Days passed, one torture on another. Clothes were taken in for him, furniture got bigger, less manageable. Beth [their daughter] and Lou got bigger. Financial worries got bigger.
          ‘Scott, I hate to say it, but I don’t see how we can go on much longer on fifty dollars a week. With all of us to feed and clothe and house . . .’ Her voice trailed off; she shook her head in distress.
          ‘I suppose you expect me to go back to the paper.’
          ‘I didn’t say that. I merely said—’
          ‘I know what you said.’
          ‘Well, if it offends you, I’m sorry. Fifty dollars a week isn’t enough. What about when winter comes? What about winter clothes, and oil?’
          He shook his head as if he were trying to shake away the need to think of it.
          ‘Do you think Marty would—’
          ‘I can’t ask Marty for more money,’ he said curtly.
          ‘Well . . .’ She said no more. She didn’t have to.
 
          [ . . . ]
 
          Then, the last week in July, Marty’s check didn’t come.
          First they thought it was an oversight. But two more days went by and the check still didn’t come.
          ‘We can’t wait much longer, Scott,’ she said.
          ‘What about the savings account?’
          ‘There isn’t more than seventy dollars in it.’
          ‘Oh. Well . . . we’ll wait one more day,’ he said.
          He spent that day in the living room, staring at the same page of the book he was supposedly reading.
          He kept on telling himself he should go back to the Globe-Post, let them continue their series. Or accept one of the many offers for personal appearances. Or let those lurid magazines write his story. Or allow a ghost writer to grind out a book about his case. Then there would be enough money, then the insecurity that Lou feared so desperately would be ended.
          But telling himself about it wasn’t enough. His revulsion against placing himself before the blatant curiosity of people was too strong.
          He comforted himself. The check will come tomorrow, he kept repeating, it’ll come tomorrow.
          But it didn’t. And that night they’d driven over to Marty’s and Marty had told him that he’d lost his contract with Fairchild and had to cut down operations to almost nothing. The checks would have to stop. He gave Scott a hundred dollars, but that was the end.” (Pg. 90-91)
 
FILM:
 
SCOTT: (Sitting in a now-oversized chair, his feet not touching the floor, dressed in boy’s clothes; glumly as he listens to Charlie’s suggestion to make reporters pay to run his story) All right. I’ll think about it. (Narrating) But really, was there any choice? We owed a great deal of money, and I had no job. There was no choice. None at all. And so, I became famous.
 
[ . . . ]
 
LOUISE: (Trying to comfort Scott, yet barely keeping together herself) Scott, people know. They-they realize, they’re not laughing at you.
SCOTT: They’re not?
LOUISE: No.
SCOTT: (Bitterly sarcastic) Why not? It’s funny, isn’t it? But it is. (Spreads his little arms out) See how funny I am? The child that looks like a man. Go on, laugh, Louise. Be like everyone else. It’s all right.
LOUISE: (Turns away, wretched and on the verge of tears)
SCOTT: (Getting angry) Well, why won’t you look at me? (Bangs his hands on the table in fury) Look at me!
 
But the best subversion of expectations comes from the shrinking itself. In most other stories, extreme size reductions clock in at minutes, if not seconds. But Scott shrinks a seventh of an inch per day; that’s one inch per week; roughly four inches per month; and so on. Think how much more excruciating it is to shrink that slowly, to know firsthand the condescending looks and remarks, and have all the time in the world to be haunted by memories of a once-normal past and fears of such an inconceivable future. What’s more, long before the mortal danger of smallness, Scott suffers a sort of social de-evolution according the 50s’ strict standards of masculinity. His weakness makes him “womanly”; his boy’s clothes make him “childlike”; and his increasingly tyrannical attitude makes him “inhuman.” This metaphor is brilliantly illustrated through Scott’s various horrible predicaments, most of which, unfortunately, aren’t in the film, which I think severely weakens it in this regard. But thankfully, the film does include Scott’s chance encounter with Clarice, a natural-born little person, who not only provides some much-needed intimacy and normalcy, however brief, but reminds him that, big or small, he is as human as anyone else.
 
BOOK:
 
          “She looked back at him a long moment. Then, without a word, she stepped close to him and laid her cheek against his. She stood quietly as he put his arms around her.
          ‘Oh,’ he whispered, ‘Oh, God. To—’
          She sobbed and pressed against him suddenly, her small hands catching at his back. Wordlessly they clung to each other in the quiet room, their tear-wet cheeks together.
          ‘My dear,’ she murmured, ‘my dear, my dear.’
          He drew back his head and looked into her glistening eyes.
          ‘If you knew,’ he said brokenly. ‘If you—’
          ‘I do know,’ she said, running a trembling hand across his cheek.
          ‘Yes. Of course you do.’
          He leaned forward and felt her warm lips change under his from soft acceptance to a harsh, demanding hunger.
          He held her tensely. ‘Oh, God, to be a man again,’ he whispered. ‘Just to be a man again. To hold you like this.’
          ‘Yes. Do hold me. It’s been so long.’ After a few minutes, Clarice led him to the couch and they sat there holding tightly to each other’s hands, smiling at each other.” (Pg. 148)
 
[ . . . ]
 
          “Yes, he was still a man. Two-sevenths of an inch tall and still a man.
          He remembered the night he’d been with Clarice, and how, then too, it had come to him that he was still a man.
          ‘You aren’t pitiful,’ she whispered to him. ‘You’re a man.’ She’d dragged tense fingers across his chest.
It had been a moment of decisive alteration.
 
          [ . . . ]
 
          [ . . . ] A man’s self-estimation was, in the end, a matter of relativity.
 
          [ . . . ]
 
          And he saw that size had changed nothing essential; he still had his mind, he was still unique.” (Pg. 156-7)
 
FILM:
 
SCOTT: (A touch of desperation in his voice) How do you live with it, Miss Bruce? What do you do?
CLARICE: (With a slight shrug) I was born a midget. It’s the way I grew up. I know what’s happened to you and, well, that’s different.
SCOTT: Different. That’s another way of saying “alone,” isn’t it?
CLARICE: (Sympathetically) Oh, but you’re not alone now.
 
[ . . . ]
 
CLARICE: Oh, Scott, for people like you and me, the world can be a wonderful place. The sky is as blue as it is for the giants, the friends are as warm.
SCOTT: (Sadly) I wish I could believe that.
CLARICE: (Resolutely) You’ve got to believe that, don’t you?
SCOTT: (Tentatively) Yeah. Give me time, Clarice. I’ll learn.
 
Vintage sci-fi-fantasy/horror stories, while entertaining for reasons both good and bad, so often lack real, raw suspense and philosophical depth. The Incredible Shrinking Man may be as far-fetched in concept as aliens and giant monsters, but it is also much more pragmatic in presentation, and therefore much more psychologically devastating in execution, making it a rare and rewarding exception to the rules of its campier contemporaries. Though not my personal definition of nightmare fuel, I can say that since experiencing this story, I have never looked at basements, or of course, spiders, in quite the same way as before.
 
CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.
 
MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Internal Abyss” – Composed by Briand Morrison; Arranged by Erika Lynn Adams
All book excerpts are from The Incredible Shrinking Man by Richard Matheson (1994 Special Edition, published by Tor, a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC)

All other sound and music clips are from The Incredible Shrinking Man (directed by Jack Arnold; production by Universal-International Pictures Co., Inc.; distributed by Universal Pictures).

​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

The Shrinking Man (novel) on Wikipedia

The Incredible Shrinking Man (film) on Wikipedia

Richard Matheson on Wikipedia

Jack Arnold on Wikipedia

The Shrinking Man (novel) on Goodreads

The Incredible Shrinking Man (film) on IMDb

The Incredible Shrinking Man (film) on Rotten Tomatoes

The Incredible Shrinking Man on Tv Tropes

The Incredible Shrinking Man (film) on Criterion

The Incredible Shrinking Man (film) on TMC

The Shrinking Man (novel) on Amazon

The Incredible Shrinking Man (film) on Amazon

The Incredible Shrinking Man (novel & film) on eBay

Richard Matheson’s Unrealized Dreams (containing the complete script of the canceled film sequel, The Fantastic Little Girl)
​
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Train of Existence

9/6/2019

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#50 - Night on the Galactic Railroad
1934/1985, Ages 12 and Up

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a boy and his journey aboard a mystical train traveling through the stars.
(9/6/19)

​
The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
If there’s one type of story setting with potential and possibilities that are quite literally endless, it is outer space, or more specifically, the universe. Long before humanity even conceived the scientific age, never mind entered it, we’ve been entranced by the sky’s breathtaking splendor and fascinated by its mind-boggling phenomena. I think what I especially like about interstellar stories is what they can offer audiences in terms of symbolism and meaning. Whether you enjoy studying the ways of the purely physical and scientific or enjoy pondering the enigmas of the deities said to live on high, there’s so much here to stir the imagination of virtually any type of intellectual. But we have also been humbled and even terrified by its sheer vastness and seemingly incomprehensible mysteries. In the face of such a force of nature, there are few out there who don’t question the worth and meaning of their lives on Earth—and that includes children.

The life of Giovanni, a young village boy, is not an easy one. With his mother ill and his sea-faring father’s whereabouts unknown, he has had to work hard to support his family, leaving him no time to play with the other children and causing him to be taunted and bullied by them. But one night, as he is resting with fatigue and loneliness up on the hill side, he is stunned when a huge steam locomotive appears before him right out of the sky. He boards the train and is inexplicably joined by Campanella, the one classmate who cares for him. Giovanni is delighted in spite of his confusion, and the two boys happily ride the train together, taking in all the sights and wonders the galaxy has to offer. But it soon becomes apparent that neither this flying train nor its peculiar passengers are what they seem. And as the train approaches its final destination, Giovanni learns a valuable lesson about life, death, and true happiness.

Also known in the west by titles like Night of the Milky Way Railway, Night Train to the Stars, or Fantasy Railroad in the Stars, this is Kenji Miyazawa’s best-known work and to this day one of most studied children’s novels in Japan. So impressed were readers, in fact, that the novel was published not only posthumously, but technically unfinished. Though Miyazawa’s untimely death in 1933 prevented him from completing the story, there was fortunately enough material written for publishers to release the book in a coherent state. But for all its success, its conception came in the wake of a great tragedy. In 1922, when he was 26 years old, Kenji lost his beloved younger sister, Toshiko, to tuberculosis. Grief-stricken, he traveled by train to Sakhalin not long after, plagued by the question of where his sister had gone after death. Not without reluctance and a heavy heart, he would eventually accept her passing and be inspired by his trip to write his story, thanks in no small part to his strong Buddhist beliefs.

But as devout as Miyazawa was, his writing feels a lot more spiritual than religious, mainly because of the universality he strives to emphasize throughout. For instance, the scenes exemplifying his passion for natural sciences like astronomy and geology—from the teacher’s explanation of the Milky Way, to the ancient rocks and fossils found in the Pliocene Coast—not only provide a nice educational touch, but blend beautifully with the plot’s more mystical elements to create an atmosphere of awe and respect for the natural world:

BOOK:

          “All the pebbles along the river bed were translucent. There were clearly pieces of crystal and topaz among them. Some showed complex patterns of folds and swirls while others, diamond-bright, released a pale light-like mist where two facets met. Giovanni ran to the river’s edge and plunged in his hand. The uncanny water of the Milky Way’s silver river was more transparent than hydrogen, but, clearly, it was flowing. This could be told from the way the two boys’ wrists seemed to float with a faint tinge of mercury where they were submerged in the water, and from the way the ripples that formed where the water flowed against the wrists seemed to flicker and burn with a beautiful phosphorescent light.

[. . .]

          ‘There’s something strange here!’
Campanella stopped in surprise and picked up from the rock a walnut-like object, long and slender with a pointed tip.
          ‘It’s a walnut! Look, they’re lots of them! They didn’t just wash up here; they’re embedded in the rock.’
          ‘They’re big, twice the size of normal walnuts. This one’s not the least bit broken.’
          ‘Come on, let’s have a look over there. I bet they’re digging something up.’
          Clutching their black, jagged-edged walnuts, they headed toward the spot. On their left the waves burned with a sort of gentle lightning as they lapped the shore, while on the right the ears of the pampas grass, looking as though they were made of silver and sea shells, rustled on the cliff.” (Pg. 36-37)

FILM:
GIOVANNI: (Admiring Campanella’s strange but beautiful map.) What a neat map! Where did you get it from? It looks like it’s made out of obsidian.

[. . .]

CAMPANELLA: (Scooping a handful of glittering sand from within the river bed.) Every grain of sand is a crystalline jewel. There’s a spark of fire inside every one of them.

[. . .]

(Campanella plucks a rock-like object out of the sand.)
GIOVANNI: (Kneeling beside him.) What is it?
CAMPANELLA: (Shows him.) It’s a walnut! Just look, they’re everywhere!
GIOVANNI: (Picks up his own walnut and admires it in amazement.) That’s a huge one! It’s twice as big as a normal walnut, and it looks in perfect shape.

[. . .]

(The two boys make it back to the train just in time for it to leave the Pliocene Coast.)
CAMPANELLA: (Breathless but excited.) Yeah, we made it back. We just ran as fast as the wind, for 1.2 million years! It’s amazing!
GIOVANNI: (His voice filled with wonder.) Yeah, for 1.2 million years.

And certain artistic choices by the author also reflect a sort of social and geographical neutrality. The book offers almost no physical character descriptions, but said characters come from a village with various European features and have common Italian names, even when they are drawn as distinctly Asian. To blur the ethnic lines even further, as well as to solve the issue of visual presentation of racial and cultural identity, the animators of the film decided to depict the characters as anthropomorphic cats rather than humans.

Additionally, Miyazawa had a strong interest in Esperanto, today the most widely spoken constructed international auxiliary language in the world. The film pays homage to this by presenting each chapter title in Esperanto along with his native Japanese. More to the point, it’s worth noting that the name in English means “one who hopes”. I don’t know whether he had this implication in mind, but I think there is a connection between that and the story’s biggest thematic question: “What is true happiness?” Here, Miyazawa suggests that the answer lays in self-sacrifice. Giovanni’s own unhappiness runs deeper than just the pain of loneliness; the more he is faced with this idea, the more uncertain he becomes whether his life could ever truly benefit others. This is ironically exacerbated by his relationship with Campanella. Feeling both admiration and inferiority toward him, his only friend, Giovanni desperately wants nothing more than for the two of them to stay together forever, a desire all the more heartbreaking for the oppressive sense that it could be dashed at any time:

BOOK:

          “For some reason—he did not know why—Giovanni began to feel unbearably sorry for the bird catcher sitting next to him. [. . .] He was about to ask the bird catcher what he desired most, but thought that might seem too abrupt. Wondering what would be the best thing to do, he glanced behind him, only to find that the bird catcher was no longer there.
          [. . .]
          ‘I wonder where that man went?’ Campanella said softly. He, too, had clearly been thinking about him.
          ‘Where did he go? When will we ever see him again? Why didn’t I talk to him more than I did?’
          ‘I was just wondering the same thing.’
          ‘I just considered him a nuisance. I feel awful about it.’ Giovanni thought he had never before felt this peculiar sort of emotion, nor said this sort of thing.” (Pg. 53-54)

[. . .]

          “Giovanni heaved a deep sigh. ‘We’re back to just the two of us alone again, aren’t we? Let’s go on and on together forever. [. . .]’
          Bright tears welled up in Campanella’s eyes. ‘I feel the same way,’ he said.
          ‘But I wonder what true happiness really is,’ said Giovanni.
          ‘I don’t know,’ said Campanella in a far-away voice.
          ‘Well, we’ll give it our best won’t we!’ Giovanni exclaimed, drawing a deep breath as though new strength were surging up within him.
          [. . .]
          ‘Even if I were in the middle of that huge darkness, I wouldn’t be afraid,’ said Giovanni. I really am going to go and search for the true happiness of everyone. Let’s go on together, on and on and on forever.’
          ‘I’ll go for sure . . . How beautiful those fields are! Everyone’s there. Now, that’s the real heaven! Look, my mother is there!’ Campanella shouted, pointing toward the beautiful fields he could see in the distance beyond the window.
          Giovanni looked, but saw nothing but hazy whiteness; it did not appear at all as Campanella described.” (Pg. 75-76)

FILM:

GIOVANNI: (Uncertainly to Campanella.) Hey, no matter where we go, we’ll be together, right?
CAMPANELLA: (Suddenly gasps and looks over Giovanni’s shoulder, noticing that the bird catcher is missing.) Look, that man’s gone. Where did he go?
GIOVANNI: (Looks around the train car, then at the seat the bird catcher had previously occupied.) I wonder where he went. (Gazes at the ceiling despondently.) I sort of wish now that I had spent more time talking to him. It kind of felt like he was interrupting. I wanted him to leave. But now I feel bad.
CAMPANELLA: Yeah. Me, too.

[. . .]

GIOVANNI: I guess it’s just the two of us now. (Campanella stays silent.) Hey, let’s just keep going like this forever, okay? That’s right! We’ll always be together, won’t we, Campanella?
CAMPANELLA: (Gasps softly, then relaxes and nods.) Hmm. Yes, I’d like that.
GIOVANNI: (Suddenly puzzled.) But then again, where exactly are we going anyway?
CAMPANELLA: (Uneasily.) Well, I-I don’t know.
GIOVANNI: (Brightly.) As long as we’re together!

[. . .]

(As the train approaches the Coal Sack, a black hole.)
GIOVANNI: (Seeing Campanella’s hands trembling in his lap.) What’s wrong? Hey, don’t worry, I’m not afraid of the dark anymore. We’ll get through this together, won’t we?
CAMPANELLA: (Seemingly reassured.) Yeah, I guess you’re right then. We will get through it. (Looks out the window.) Look at that lovely field out there. It’s so beautiful, so peaceful.
GIOVANNI: (Also looking out, confused.) What field?
CAMPANELLA: That must be the field of the true heaven. I see now. That’s where my mother is. She’s waiting for me.
GIOVANNI: (Looking slowly from the Coal Sack to Campanella and back again.) Hey, Campanella. We’ll always be together, won’t we?

To be sure, Giovanni’s increasingly incessant questioning of whether he and his dearest friend will stay together borders on obsession, but that doesn’t make him an unlikable or unsympathetic character. He is a mirror of his creator’s own suffering and inner turmoil, a young man whose sudden tragic misfortune deepened his fear and confusion as to where mortal life was headed and what, if anything, lay beyond it. And what can be more human than that?

Whether you enjoy Night on the Galactic Railroad in either book or film form is going to depend greatly on taste. Its plot and tone are quiet and somber rather than epic and action-packed, and the movie in particular may require some patience—especially from children—for its sparse dialogue and relatively slow pace. But those who choose to experience it in full will be rewarded with a visually stunning and gently moving story that explores faith, grief, and self-reflection through the eyes of souls who wonder what they will leave behind as well as what they will find next when they leave this world for good.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Constellation Station” - Briand Morrison
All book excerpts are from Night of the Milky Way Railway by Miyazawa Kenji, English translation by Sarah M. Strong (1991 edition, published by M. E. Sharpe, Inc.)

All other music and sound clips are from the English dub of Night on the Galactic Railroad (directed by Gisaburo Sugii; production by Group TAC; distributed by Nippon Herald Films).

OST SONG:
“Temo De La Adiauo”

Download the full 15-minute episode here!

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Fanatical Feline Felons

3/31/2019

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#40 - Felidae
1989/1994, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a book-smart and streetwise tomcat who must solve the mystery of who or what is taking the lives of his fellow cats within his new neighborhood.
(10/15/18)

​
The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF ANIMAL CRUELTY AND THEMES OF RELIGIOUS FANATICISM, RACISM, AND GENOCIDE. READER/RESEARCHER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

I once read a phrase in a book years ago that has stuck with me ever since. This is because it perfectly sums up a sentiment I have regarding pets: “I’m not anti-dog, I’m just pro-cat.” I don’t dislike dogs, but in general they’re a little too hyper for me, while cats are calmer and more peaceful. But there’s another reason I love cats. Now, I am not a historian or an animal expert, but from what I understand, cats seem to have contributed much more to world history, mythology, and culture, from the illustrious cat worshiping practices of ancient Egypt, to the ridiculously popular cat memes and videos that dominate the internet today. Though cats are already placed on a high pedestal for their intelligence, grace, and beauty, what if there is still more to them than meets the eye? Are cats truly no different from other animals that seem to live only to eat, sleep, play, and mate until they die? Or do their minds hold secrets and mysteries more wondrous—or terrible—then we feeble-minded humans could ever have imagined?

Much to his eternal dismay and chagrin, Francis, a domestic housecat in 1980’s Germany, is forced to move with his well-meaning but dimwitted owner, Gustav—again. However, this quickly becomes the least of his problems. In his new backyard he comes across a grisly sight: the body of a fellow cat, his throat brutally slashed. And this is not the first; several cats have been turning up dead for weeks. While this could easily be dismissed as just another senseless killing by a human, Francis, being the observant, detail-oriented intellectual that he is, is not so sure. Certain that a feline serial killer is on the loose, he begins to gather information from the other cats of his new neighborhood: some kindly, some crazy, but all broken in some way. And as Francis digs ever deeper into this blood-soaked mystery, he comes to realize that the answer may not only threaten the survival of his kind, but challenge the very cycle of life itself.

Though I watched Felidae long before I read it, I watched video reviews before even that. It wasn’t until I read the book that I realized how easily the adaptation can be seen as little more than a strange and obscure German film for fans of cult horror or adult animation. While the movie is certainly one of the better and more faithful book-to-film adaptations that I’m familiar with, this is one time when I think it really is best to experience the book along with it to really get the story’s full effect.

One of the film’s most striking traits is its surprisingly light and pleasant animation for a plot this dark and disturbing. Movies like A Scanner Darkly, Akira, or Fritz the Cat may be cartoons, but their styles and presentations still have a very adult aesthetic. In contrast, I still find it weirdly unnerving to see these Don Bluth-esque cats laying mutilated in their own gore. Definitely a unique, if questionably palatable, choice on the film-makers’ part.

Needless to say, this talking cat detective story is far from cute.

The cats of this universe are depicted as being just as intelligent, if not more, than humans. But this is not the only way Akif Pirinçci makes his cats look superior. He also endows them with a sort of holiness in their speech and social customs. For one, the cats refer to each other not as “cats”, but as “brothers” and “sisters”. And it’s established that the real reason cats don’t talk to humans has nothing to do with language; simply put, to do so is sacrilege. As Francis quotes on page 261:

“The untouchable may not exchange a single word with the impure, even if they’re in danger of dying.”

Of course, this doesn’t mean they are above using the same crass and sarcastic vocabulary as many human adults. One prominent slang term they use is “can opener”, to describe humans whose only supposed “function” is to open cat food cans. These cats are more than well-versed in human objects, trends, and concepts. Our especially clever and inquisitive narrator, Francis, often peppers his witty remarks with pop culture or history references to get his point across:


BOOK:

- “In comparison to this maltreated creature, even Quasimodo would have had a realistic chance of becoming a male model.” (pg. 18)
- “He was gone! He had disappeared into thin air, had long ago parted for the Yellow Submarine Land from which he may well have come.” (pg. 151)
- “From hippie life on Crete to yuppie stress in Manhattan, from coca-leaf chewing to Calvin Klein jeans, Archie had already done it and much more, except perhaps not joining the NASA boys for their moon landing, which, to be honest, does disappoint me.” (Pg. 24-25)

FILM:

- “This parquet freak and professional trend-setter is Archibald Philip Magenta, known as Archie. He was at Woodstock.”
- “Have we come to the house of an art collector, or a pimp?”
- “What I was watching wasn’t exactly a scene out of The Aristocats.”

I think Francis’ chemistry with local cat Bluebeard, his new “partner”, as it were, also adds to the noir vibe. Personality-wise, Bluebeard strikes me as the Daisuke Jigen to Francis’ Lupin III: blunt and quick-tempered, with an ironic sense of humor, but also possessing a cynical, yet pragmatic wisdom that can sometimes make Francis seem almost naïve and idealistic by comparison. Yet despite a harsh attitude that matches his severely disfigured façade, Bluebeard proves an invaluable guide and loyal friend to Francis:


BOOK:

          ‘Another cold sack?’ I asked him, not wanting to beat around the bush.
          I caught him by surprise, but in seconds he had already composed himself, assuming his stoic Humphrey Bogart look.
          ‘A cold sack,’ he confessed after a brief pause.
          [. . .]
          ‘What member of our god-fearing community got it this time? Stop, wait a minute. It was a guy, wasn’t it? Just like the other four corpses.’
          Now he showed open astonishment.
          ‘How the hell did you find that out?’
          ‘Just a guess.’
          [. . .]
          The monster limped into the room, snorted, then crouched down beside me with a worried expression on his face.
          ‘This time it was good old Deep Purple who said his last good-bye. His neck looks so bad you’d think someone used it to try out his new ice pick. As far as I’m concerned, they could have turned that dimwit [a**hole] into dog food, but all these dudes kicking the bucket is beginning to give me the jitters. Who knows, maybe the guy with the strange hobby will someday have the pleasure of sinking his teeth into my own neck.’
          [. . .]
          ‘Where’s Deep Purple’s corpse now?’
          ‘In Peter Fonda’s garage. Do you want to go on with your clever investigation?’
          ‘If you have nothing against it. How about showing me where it is?’
          ‘Why not,’ he said, yawning, his inimitable coolness having since returned [. . .]. He turned to go, but before he could quite get into gear, I caught up with him with a quick leap and looked deep down into his one uninjured eye, the eye that sparkled all the more brightly because it was the only one he had left.
          ‘You never did tell me your name, wiseass,’ I said. He smiled wearily, then brushed lightly past me out the balcony door.
          ‘Bluebeard,’ he said outside. ‘But don’t ask me now who my can opener is, otherwise I’ll be the one who’ll have to puke.’ (Pg. 32-36)

FILM:

BLUEBEARD: Agh!
FRANCIS: Another killing?
BLUEBEARD: (In gruff surprise.) How the hell did you . . . ? Yes, there’s been another one.
FRANCIS: Let me guess. This latest victim’s also a tom. (Lifts a leg to scratch himself.) Just like the other four stiffs.
BLUEBEARD: Smartass. How the hell did you know that?
FRANCIS: A guess, but it’s an educated one.
BLUEBEARD: Anyway, this time it’s tight-ass Deep Purple that’s taken out his last rat. (Run his claws across his neck to demonstrate as he speaks.) His throat looks exactly as though someone decided to test an ice pick to see if it works.
[. . . ]
FRANCIS: Where is Deep Purple’s corpse now? Can you show me?
BLUEBEARD: (A smile in his voice.) Sure, why not?
FRANCIS: (Curiously.) Hey, what’s your name, smartass?
BLUEBEARD: Bluebeard. And I’ve had more babes in my time than Henry VIII. (Bursts into wheezing laughter.)

But as logical as Francis is, he is not spared from the nightmares that plague him as the murders multiply. Whether they are as bloody and demented as anything Clive Barker could dream up, or so strange and ethereal as to shatter the heart, neither in the novel nor the movie does Pirinçci hold back on the creativity, the viciousness, or, most importantly, the symbolism. Throughout Francis’ quest for the truth, in his visions as well as in real life, a key question is raised: What if, due to all the centuries of domestication, mankind destroyed more within cats than just their ancient primeval instincts? What if they have fallen from grace the way Adam and Eve did?

BOOK:

          “‘At last I have found you,’ I said. In my excitement and joy, I was on the brink of tears.
          ‘Naturally,’ [the murderer] said with an unfathomable deep sadness in his voice. [ . . .] I am the one you’ve been looking for all this time: I am the murderer, I am the Prophet, [. . .] I am the eternal riddle, I am the man and the beast—and I am Felidae. All of these I am in one person and more, much more.’
          [. . .] The veil of mist lifted to present the white murderer anew in all his splendor. He rose in slow motion from his seat, turned toward me, and gave me a faraway look, as if he were gazing at me from the mysterious depths of the universe.
          ‘Everything that ever was and ever will be no longer has any meaning, Francis,’ he said, and his sad voice echoed into infinity. ‘The only thing that’s important is that you now change sides and come to us, come with us.’
          [. . .]
          The huge army of my brothers and sisters in the background affirmed in unison:
          ‘Come with us, Francis! You’ll find something better than death everywhere!’
          The murderer turned away from me and floated over to the others. Then he became a tiny part of the crowd and looked back once again.
          ‘Come with us, Francis,’ he insisted. ‘Come with us on a long, wonderful trip.’
          Now they turned their backs on me and wandered leisurely into the thickening mist.
          ‘Where are you going?’ I called after them.
          ‘To Africa! To Africa! To Africa!’ they called out with one voice until they gradually disappeared into the mist.
          ‘And what will we find there?’ I still wanted to know.
          ‘Everything we lost, Francis, everything we lost . . .’ I heard them whispering. But they were now lost to sight; they had already become one with the magical mist.
          Slowly, an unbearable sadness filled me, because I had not followed them, because I had been afraid to set out on the long journey, because I was now completely alone. Africa! It sounded so alluring, so mysterious, so exciting. Everything you ever dreamed about was there, my unerring instincts whispered to me. Africa! The lost paradise, El Dorado, the Promised Land—where once, long ago, everything had its beginning. Yet Africa was so unimaginably far away, and I was only a comfort-loving, four-legged animal used to thinking in terms of short distances. The nocturnal songs of the gods were strange to me; so, too, the hot wind of the savanna. Never had I slept under a canopy of stars, and never had I set foot in the sacred jungle. Africa! But where was Africa? In any case, not in me, not in my yearnings, not in my heart. It was somewhere else, very far from me, irrevocably far from me.
          And yet:
          ‘Take me with you.’ I wept quietly to myself. ‘Take me with you, my brothers and sisters . . .’” (Pg. 173-174)

FILM:

(The Dream Cat/Murderer turns to look at Francis.)
FRANCIS: (Excitedly.) I’ve been searching for you!
DREAM CAT/MURDERER: (Softly.) Yes, of course, clever Francis. I’m the Prophet. I’m the human. I’m the beast. And I am also . . . Felidae. Come with us, Francis. All that has been, all there will be has no meaning anymore. Come with us, Francis.
DREAM CAT ARMY: (Simultaneously, as one by one they transform into tiny lights and float away towards the sky.) Come with us! Wherever you go, you find something preferable to death.
DREAM CAT/MURDERER: (As he, too, turns into a light and joins the others.) Come with us, on our long, wonderful journey.
FRANCIS: (Sinking into the clouds he’s standing on.) What will we find when we arrive?
DREAM CAT ARMY: Everything that we’ve lost, Francis.

But perhaps even more prominent: what if cats, or any animals, really, due to man’s abuse and supremacy, became more like man, to the point where they essentially became man, in all his sick, stupid, and tainted glory?

While it may be easy to compare this to works like Richard Adams’ Watership Down or George Orwell’s Animal Farm, Felidae stands out from other non-sugar-coated critiques of mankind’s faults through the eyes of intelligent animals. On a much deeper and more complex level than I’ve seen in either a gritty crime drama or an animal adventure tale, it frames the concept of racial superiority in the form of questions regarding the supposedly inherent nature of a given species, and even the very nature of God and a living creature’s place in the universe. Felidae is an enthralling detective story with many more mysteries than simply “Whodunit?” Not the least of which is: Do we own our pets . . . or do they own us?


CREDITS:

Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Frances” - George Ellsworth

https://www.facebook.com/GeorgeLEllsworth

All book excerpts are from Felidae by Akif Pirinçci (1993 English hardcover edition; published by Villard Books).

All other music and sound clips are from the English dub of Felidae (directed by Michael Schaack; production by TFC Trickcompany Fontana; distributed by Senator Film Distribution).

OST SONG:
“Mendel’s Waltz”

Download the full 15-minute episode here!

Felidae (novel) on Wikipedia

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Akif Pirinçci on Wikipedia

Felidae, the biological family, on Wikipedia


Felidae (novel) on Goodreads

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Felidae (film) on Fandom


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Night of the Meek

3/28/2019

2 Comments

 
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#18 - The Tailor of Gloucester
1903/1993, Ages 5 and Up

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a family of kindly mice who lend their assistance to an ailing human tailor on the night he needs it most.
(12/2/16)

​
The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
I have my late maternal grandparents to thank for this one (May they rest in peace). When my little sister and I were kids, Grandma and Grandpa would often record various cartoons and movies on VHS tapes for us to watch and enjoy at our leisure. On one of these tapes were the some of the BBC animated TV adaptions of the works of Beatrix Potter, better known collectively as the anthology series, The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends. As I was a very poor reader as a child, this proved an apt introduction to Potter’s beloved characters: Peter Rabbit, Benjamin Bunny, Tom Kitten, Jemima Puddle-Duck, the list goes on. Now, we all know the age-old “the book is better than the movie” argument, but I feel that my memories and experiences with the T.V. episodes really helped me to understand and thereby better enjoy the original books when I got older and when I eventually bought the complete collection later on. This particular story quickly became a favorite of mine—and not only because it just so happens to have been the personal favorite of Beatrix Potter herself. ;)

In 18th century Gloucester, England, an elderly tailor has just been commissioned by the mayor to make a handsome cherry-red coat for him to wear on his wedding day on Christmas morning. As he measures and snips diligently, the dedicated tailor dreams of the beauty of his finished work as well as the opportunity of making his fortune. But after he rescues some mice that had been trapped in his kitchen, his scheming cat, Simpkin, gets revenge by hiding the precious twisted silk needed to complete the coat. Worse still, the tailor’s failing health leaves him bed-ridden with the coat’s pieces left unsewn. But the grateful mice refuse to let the work of their human friend be in vain and are determined to finish what he has begun in time for the mayor’s wedding.

Many of Potter’s stories began as gifts within letters to loved ones: this one went to the daughter of her former governess, Freda Moore, “because you are fond of fairy tales, and have been ill." The inspiration for the tale came from an incident involving a real-life Gloucester tailor named John Pritchard (1877-1934). While making a coat for the new mayor, he came into his shop one day to find the coat unexpectedly completed except for a single buttonhole, attached to which was a tiny note with only three words: “No more twist.” Though his young assistants had actually done the work, Pritchard inspired and encouraged the local legend that fairies were responsible. If that wasn’t enchanting enough, Potter went a step further by setting the story at Christmas time and making her tailor’s helpers a group of clever mice.

Potter’s particular style of illustration is undoubtedly a prime reason her books are so distinctive and instantly recognizable even today. An exquisite mix of watercolors and pencil sketches, her animal characters are so realistically rendered as to appear less like cartoon characters on paper and more like authentic animals posing for portraits, even when they are wearing clothes and performing human-like acts. And this is no exception, from the curtsying female mice in elegant dresses and bonnets, to the bowing males in dapper waistcoats and cocked hats, to Simpkin in his long coat and thick boots as he trudges on his hind legs through the snow.

One especially fascinating trait about the tailor is that his habitual thinking aloud is almost mantra-like, his words possessing a subtle rhythm as considers and calculates. Moreover—though this could be pure speculation on my part—the likelihood that all the materials he lists off will be unfamiliar to children (especially today’s children) can make him seem almost wizardly, like he’s gathering and adding mysterious ingredients for a great spell. More to the point, I think it serves to make the readers feel the same enthusiasm, wonder, and even pressure, that the tailor is feeling; he is not merely manufacturing a purchased product for a VIP customer, he is creating a one-of-a-kind work of art, a gift to be given and admired by all on the most joyous day of the year:

BOOK:

“[The tailor] cut his coats without waste, according to his embroidered cloth; they were very small ends and snippets that lay about upon the table—‘Too narrow breadths for nought—except waistcoats for mice,’ [. . .]
‘No breadth at all, and cut on the cross; it is no breadth at all; tippets for mice and ribbons for mobs! for mice!’ said the Tailor of Gloucester.”
[. . .]
'I shall make my fortune—to be cut bias—the Mayor of Gloucester is to be married on Christmas Day in the morning, and he hath ordered a coat and an embroidered waistcoat—to be lined with yellow taffeta—and the taffeta sufficeth; there is no more left over in snippets than well serve to make tippets for mice—'” (Pg. 39-42)

FILM:

TAILOR:
- . . . And a cream-colored satin waistcoat trimmed with gauze and green worsted chenille . . .
- The waistcoat is cut out from peach-colored-satin. One-and-twenty buttonholes of cherry-colored silk . . .

On that note, perhaps the most enjoyable part text-wise is all the nursery rhymes that Potter peppers the latter half of the story with. She sets up the scene with a wonderful piece of folklore, after which readers are treated to some of the lovely traditional rhymes common in Potter’s time:

BOOK:

“But it is in the old story that all the beasts can talk, in the night between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the morning (though there are very few folk that can hear them, or know what it is that say).
[. . .]
From all the roofs and gables and old wooden houses in Gloucester came a thousand merry voices singing the old Christmas rhymes—all the old songs that ever I heard of, and some that I don’t know, like Whittington’s bells.
First and loudest the cocks cried out—‘Dame, get up, and bake your pies!’
[. . .]
[The bats] said something mysterious that sounded like--
‘Buz, quoth the blue fly; hum, quoth
the bee;
Buz and hum they cry, and so do we!’
[. . .]
[. . .] There was a snippeting of scissors, and snappeting of thread; and little mouse voices sang loudly and gaily--
‘Four-and-twenty tailors
Went to catch a snail,
The best man amongst them
Durst not touch her tail;
She put out her horns
Like a little kyloe cow,
Run, tailors, run! or she’ll
Have you all e’en now!’

Then without a pause the little mouse voices went on again--
‘Sieve my lady’s oatmeal,
Grind my lady’s flour,
Put it in a chestnut,
Let it stand an hour—'" (Pg. 47-48)

The BBC adaption adds some scenes that weren’t in the book, but they don’t take away any of the magic of the original; in fact, I think they enhance it. The T.V. episode, like the others in the series, opens with a live-action Beatrix Potter (played by Niamh Cusack) just before she sits down to write her letter and thereby begin the story proper. Though it has nothing to do with narrative itself, the scene where Potter watches a group of children singing carols outside her door is simply adorable, from the smallest boy trying unsuccessfully to sing and an older girl reaching over to flip over his song book which had apparently been upside down, to the hands of all the little carolers eagerly grabbing at the plate of treats offered by Potter’s maid, Daisy.

There is also a subplot involving a mouse tailor who’s trying to make a coat of his own. In the book, there is a single picture of what appears to be him trying to fit a vest on another mouse, but here he is a far more developed character. Part of why he’s so endearing is his almost childish excitement—and that of his family of younger mice—by the prospect of the creation of both coats. He similarly enjoys imitating his human counterpart, making snipping motions with his fingers as the human tailor uses scissors, or tapping his face thoughtfully with his spectacles, among other mannerisms.

FILM:

YOUNG MALE MOUSE: (Excitedly holds up bits of yellow silk in both hands.) Look what I’ve got!
MOUSE TAILOR: (As he is given the silk.) Oh, my! Oh, how beautiful! By my whiskers, I cannot remember when we last had silk of such quality on these--
YOUNG FEMALE MOUSE: (Grabs another piece of yellow silk.) And look at this!
OLDER FEMALE MOUSE: (Enticingly holding up a piece of red silk.) And look. Look at this!
MOUSE TAILOR: Ah!
[. . .]
YOUNG MALE MOUSE: (To the mouse tailor.) [The human tailor] says the lining will be yellow taffeta!
MOUSE TAILOR: (Proudly.) Oh, my! Yellow taffeta! Just what I would have chosen myself! But has he commenced cutting yet? (Watches in admiration as the human tailor begins cutting.) Oh! Masterly! Masterly!
YOUNG MALE MOUSE: (Happily mimicking.) Masterly! Masterly!

And speaking of characters that shine, I am still especially impressed by how effortlessly Simpkin shifts from mewing, growling cat to silken-voiced scoundrel, while still maintaining a very human intelligence throughout both semblances. Now, I don’t know this for a fact, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Simpkin’s voice actor actually did all his animal noises as well as his speaking and singing parts, as they sound very similar both in tone and in feeling:

“But Simpkin hid a little parcel privately in the tea-pot, and spit and growled at the tailor; and if Simpkin had been able to talk, he would have asked—‘WHERE IS MY MOUSE?’
[. . .]
Whenever the tailor talked in his sleep, Simpkins said ‘Miaw-ger-r-w-s-s-ch!” and made strange horrid noises, as cats do at night.”
[. . .]
‘Oh, dilly, dilly, dilly!’ sighed Simpkin.
[. . .]
‘Hey, diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle! All the cats in Gloucester—except me,’ said Simpkin.” (p. 45-47)

FILM:

SIMPKIN: (Singing.) Oh, what shall we have for supper, Mrs. Bond? There’s geese in the larder and ducks in the pond. (Speaking glumly.) But my master’s cupboard is as empty as Old Mother Hubbard’s.

The other humanized animals are fun, too, but I’d be criminally remiss if I didn’t give a nod to what is my all-time favorite of these, not to mention by far one of the most memorable scenes in the whole episode. I mean, a bunch of rats gorging themselves upon the contents of a fully stocked wine cellar, their voices blissfully slurred as they laugh and sing and dance to loud nonsense tunes: how can one not crack a smile at such a sight?

RATS: (Singing.)
There was a frog lived in the well, kitty alone, kitty alone!
A merry mouse in the mill, cock-me-cary, kitty alone, kitty alone!

There was a frog lived in the well, kitty alone, kitty alone!
A merry mouse in the mill, cock-me-cary, kitty alone, kitty alone!

The frog he would a wooing ride, kitty alone, kitty alone!
A sword and buckler by his side, cock-me-cary, kitty alone, kitty alone!

The frog he would a wooing ride, kitty alone, kitty alone!
A sword and buckler by his side, cock-me-cary, kitty alone, kitty alone!

When he was on his high horse set, kitty alone, kitty alone!
His boots they shone as black as jet, cock-me-cary kitty alone, kitty alone!

When he was on his high horse set, kitty alone, kitty alone!
His boots they shone as black as jet, cock-me-cary kitty alone, kitty alone!


I know I said in my Holly Claus episode that The Nutcracker is my favorite classic holiday tale, but this one comes in close for very similar reasons. I don’t have children myself, but stories like The Tailor of Gloucester sometimes make me wish that I did, so that we could read it aloud or watch it together, immersing them and the child in me in a simpler time, when the gifts we would give were more natural or hand-made with the utmost care and the most loving of intentions. Once again, this is the time of year when we learn and re-learn that even when we least expect it—when we ourselves are “worn to a ravelling” or are left with “no more twist”—the good deeds we perform, even the smallest ones, may not go—nor should they go—unrewarded.

CREDITS:

Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“A Country Journey” - Paul Gutmann
​
https://www.facebook.com/paul.gutmann.77

All book excerpts are from The Tailor of Gloucester by Beatrix Potter (Beatrix Potter: The Complete Tales, 2002 centenary edition, published by the Penguin Group, copyright Frederick Warne & Co.).

All other sound and music clips are from The Tailor of Gloucester, episode 4 of The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends (directed by Dennis Abey and Diane Jackson; production by TVC London, Frederick Warne & Co., Pony Canyon, and Fuji Television Network).

​​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

The Tailor of Gloucester on Wikipedia

Beatrix Potter on Wikipedia

Beatrix Potter's Official Website

The Tailor of Gloucester's UK Website

The Official Beatrix Potter Store

The Tailor of Gloucester on Goodreads

The Tailor of Gloucester on IMDb

The World of Peter Rabbit and Friends on IMDb

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Pirate Palooza

3/25/2019

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Picture
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#7 - One Piece
1997-Present, Ages 14 and Up

Gather round and I’ll tell you the tale of a simple-minded teenage boy on a quest to be the greatest pirate who ever lived.
(1/1/16)


The following recording is edited from its original 15-minute version due to copyright restrictions. To hear the full version, tune in or stream at the scheduled times on ktwh.org, or download on AudioPort.
Here’s to the beginning of new journeys, new friends, and new life! With that toast, I think this is a perfect time to pay homage to a manga artist whose most famous story is synonymous with discovery, both of the self and of the world, Eiichiro Oda! And so, I’d like to celebrate his masterwork, and definitely my favorite manga.

Now, I realize that this may not seem very obscure, especially to fans of anime. That said, I still want to discuss it because it may not be known to non-anime fans, and considering the sometimes less-than-positive reputation of manga and anime that some believe, I personally think that it would be a shame to not give such an epic story as this a chance just because of the style it’s presented in. This goes back to the reason why I made this blog in the first place, to spread the word about works that people may have otherwise overlooked. Okay, now that I’ve said my peace! J Since its initial release, One Piece has become the most popular and best-selling manga series in history, and with good reason. It’s one of those rare narratives that can be very deep and heart-felt while also being delightfully bizarre and hilarious.

It is the story of a 17-year-old boy named Monkey D. Luffy, who travels the seas in order to find the legendary treasure known as “One Piece” and thereby earn the title of King of the Pirates. One of his major—and downright weird—assets is that he has eaten what is known as a Devil Fruit. There are many types of these fruits all over the world, granting element-manipulation, animal-transformation, and other supernatural powers and abilities, and it is the Gum-Gum fruit that has enabled Luffy to stretch any part of his body like rubber. The downside, however, is that whoever eats a Devil Fruit will never be able to swim again! Pretty ironic for a would-be pirate, right? Nevertheless, Luffy remains ever undaunted, continuing his quest while recruiting other characters to join his crew—each with their own dreams to pursue as well as their own quirks—and battling other pirates, strange creatures on both land and sea, the Marines, and even the World Government itself.

Here, Oda gives us a plot that paints a highly romantic picture of piracy—much of which was inspired by real-life pirates: traveling around the world in search of hidden treasures that only the strongest can obtain, and reaping the rewards of adventure and freedom on the high seas. But Oda takes this to a new level by including numerous lands, cultures, and phenomena that no sane person would ever believe possible in real, waking life. From islands of giants, dinosaurs, and never-changing seasons, societies of winged folk that live in the clouds, and undersea civilizations of mermaids and fish-people; to portals leading to time-frozen ship graveyards, parts of the sea where no wind ever blows, a village-sized ship of ghosts and zombies, and an island populated entirely by men ever dressed in drag; Oda peppers this world with unparalleled imagination.

At first glance, Luffy’s crew appear to be the epitome of motley (no pun intended), but they are as strong-willed and committed to their dreams as he is. As of volume 50 of the manga, his crewmates include:

Roranoa Zoro – first mate and former bounty hunter who aspires to be the world’s greatest swordsman, and who also sleeps constantly and happens to have the worst sense of direction

Nami – a beautiful, authoritative (and sometimes greedy) pick-pocketing navigator who dreams of charting a map of the entire world

Usopp – a somewhat cowardly sling-shot-wielding sniper who loves to tall tales of his supposed courageous exploits, and strives to become a “brave warrior of the sea” just like his pirate father

Sanji – the suave, cigarette-smoking, kick-fighting chef always on the lookout for any lovely, young women to flirt with while searching for the All Blue, the sea containing every fish in the world

Tony Tony Chopper – a reindeer and doctor whose anthropomorphic abilities stem from the Human-Human fruit; his shyness and naivety belie his skill and expertise in medicine, driving his compassionate desire to cure every disease there is

Nico Robin – a sexy but kindly former assassin and archeologist with the Flower-Flower fruit’s ability to sprout her limbs from any surface, and who is searching for the “Rio Poneglyph”, an ancient text said to contain the lost history of the world

Franky – the flamboyant speedo-wearing cyborg carpenter whose body and machines are powered by—I kid you not!—cola; his dream is to build a ship capable of sailing everywhere on the planet

Brook – a cheery cane-sword-wielding, music-playing skeleton who is still alive thanks to the Revive-Revive fruit; his dream is to find Laboon, the pet whale of his long-dead former pirate crew

Luffy and his crew are known the world over by the unusual but apt name, the Straw Hat Pirates; this is because of the straw hat given to Luffy by his idol, the famed pirate captain, Red-Haired Shanks, who once saved Luffy as a child from a giant sea serpant at the cost of his left arm. Before leaving Luffy’s village forever, Shanks left him his beloved hat, as a symbol of Luffy’s promise to Shanks to become a formidable pirate in his own right. And woe betide those, like the arrogant Captain Buggy the Clown, who dare to damage Luffy’s precious hat!

BUGGY: . . . Was I not supposed to scratch your face or something?
LUFFY: (Holding his nicked hat in suppressed rage.) . . . No one damages my lucky hat and walks away from it alive!
BUGGY: Heh?
LUFFY: (Screaming at Buggy.) THIS HAT IS MY ONLY TREASURE! AND ANYONE WHO SO MUCH AS LAYS A FINGER ON IT IS GONNA PAY!
(NAMI remembers a previous conversation with Luffy as she is watching the battle.)
LUFFY: (To Nami in said conversation.): Yeah, I made a solemn promise. I promised the guy who gave me this hat that I’d form a crew and become the greatest pirate ever.
NAMI: (Quietly to herself in wonder.) And I didn’t think that there was anything that could phase him. But look at him. He’s getting so upset about a hat.

A major aspect that makes this story so engaging is that it constantly blurs the line between good and evil, nobility and corruption. The Straw Hats want to be pirates not to cause murder and destruction, but to follow their dreams, explore the world, and heed the call to adventure, most often acting less like a traditional pirate crew than an absurdly dysfunctional “family” on a permanent vacation. Luffy himself seems the least likely person to survive among blood-thirsty pirates, let alone become their king. When relaxed, he acts with the maturity and attention span of a 3-year-old and the intelligence and manners of an unevolved animal with an appetite to match, and it often falls to his own crew to play babysitter, so to speak, and keep him in line. One of the best examples of this can be seen in episode 131 of the anime. The crew arrives on a deserted island; Nami proposes drawing lots to decide who will collect food and who will guard the ship, and Luffy completely misses the point in his typical, adorably stupid fashion:

NAMI: (Holds out some sticks in her fist.) Here.
LUFFY: Huh?
CHOPPER: What’s that?
USSOP: Draw lots?
. . .
ZORO: (Glares at Nami.) And just who made you captain? Why do you get to give all the orders?
NAMI: (Glares right back at him.) Back off. I may not be the captain but who else is gonna to do it?
LUFFY: (Looking at the lots now all in his hand.) Look! All of ‘em are kinda short!
USSOP: (Surprised.) Why’d you draw three?! You’re only supposed to take one!
LUFFY: I thought the person who grabs the most is the winner.
NAMI: (Visibly irked.) I don’t think further explanation on this subject is necessary, do you?
ZORO, USSOP, and CHOPPER: (Waving a hand dismissively.) Not at all!
LUFFY: (Laughs childishly.) I know! Am I great or what?
EVERYONE ELSE: YOU IDIOT! (They all punch Luffy.)

Despite this goofy, carefree nature, Luffy is much wiser than he appears and is given credit for. He could never care less about authority and will openly fight it if he believes it to be dishonest and exploitative, such as when certain Marine officials use their power to satisfy their own selfish and craven whims:

SPANDAM: (Thinking furiously.) My life and my promotion are the most important things right now. I have to be careful about this. If I let all my underlings run off, who’s going to protect me if something goes wrong?
. . .
SPANDAM: (Laughs evilly at the Straw Hat crew.) You can’t win, pirates! Look at this flag! . . . This is the world itself! . . . Do you realize how strong our organization is?!
. . .
LUFFY: (To Sniper King.) . . . Sniper King . . . Shoot down that flag.

Luffy will even challenge those he deems his friends if their ideals, no matter how honorable, are inherently flawed, like Vivi, princess of Alabasta:

LUFFY: (To Vivi.) You want it to work out so that nobody dies in this fight . . . You’ll never win that way.
. . .
VIVI: (Angrily.) And what’s wrong with that, huh? What is so wrong about not wanting to see people die or get hurt?
LUFFY: (Calmly.) ‘Cause people die, that’s why.

This is a world in which conviction in one’s dreams prove the merit of a person’s will and spirit, so much so that death means nothing. In fact, Oda himself address this directly in the manga. In one Q and A section, between chapters 30 and 31 in volume 4, a reader asks Oda why Luffy never kills his enemies after fighting them. Oda replies:

“. . . The reason why Luffy never kills is this: in his era, men live by their beliefs and risk their lives to defend them. Luffy shatters the beliefs of his enemies by defeating them. For them to suffer defeat and to have their beliefs destroyed is as bad as death. Killing their bodies is beside the point. I feel that, as pirates, Luffy and his enemies care more about victory and defeat than they care about their lives.” (p. 90)

LUFFY: (To “Black Arm” Zephyr [a.k.a. “Zed”].): I’m doing what I want, you get it? I don’t care what other people think! If I can’t beat you I can’t be King of the Pirates! That’s why I’m here!

This series can easily satisfy more than just fans of pirates. This is a tale for anyone who wants to believe in something greater than themselves without the often-annoying constraints of normalcy and logic getting in the way. One Piece is a strange, vibrant, funny, touching, action-packed adventure that definitely lives up to the praise.

CREDITS:
Special thanks to KTWH 99.5 Two Harbors Community Radio. All images, audio, and links belong to their respective owners; no copyright infringement is intended.

MAIN THEME:
“The Call” – Briand Morrison and Roxann Berglund​

https://www.briandmorrison.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BriandMorrisonGuitar/
https://www.youtube.com/user/briandmorrison
EPISODE SONG:
“Yo Ho Yo!” - Andrew Lipke

https://www.facebook.com/andrew.lipke.2025

All other music and sound clips are from the English dub of One Piece (licensed by Funimation; produced by Toei Animation)

OST SONGS:
- “We Are!” – Hiroshi Kitadani (One Piece Opening Theme #1)
- “Luffy’s Theme”
- “Zoro’s Theme”
- “Nami’s Theme”
- “Ussop’s Theme”
- “Sanji’s Theme”
- “Chopper’s Theme”
- “Robin’s Theme”
- “Franky’s Theme”
- “Brook’s Theme”

EPISODES:
- Ep. 7 - “Epic Showdown! Swordsman Zoro vs. Acrobat Cabaji!”
- Ep. 104 - “Luffy vs. Vivi! The Tearful Vow to Put Friends on the Line!”
- Ep. 131 - “The First Patient! The Untold Story of the Rumble Ball!”
- Ep. 275 - “Robin's Past! The Girl Who Was Called a Devil!”
- Ep. 278 - “Say You Want to Live! We Are Your Friends!”
- Movie: One Piece Film: Z

​Download the full 15-minute episode here!

One Piece on Wikipedia

Eiichiro Oda on Wikipedia

One Piece's Official Website

One Piece on Crunchyroll

One Piece on Fandom

One Piece on Common Sense Media

One Piece on Tv Tropes

One Piece manga on Amazon

One Piece anime on Amazon

One Piece manga at Barnes & Noble

One Piece anime at Barnes & Noble

One Piece manga on eBay

One Piece anime on eBay

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