Oh yeah – I do very much love a provocative title.
Hambones was going nuts this morning, demanding to watch a DVD of his new obsession, Thomas the Tank Engine (urgh – there really is an argument for Warner Bros-type cartoon violence, and that’s it right there). But because we are fantastic, attentive and engaged parents, I opted for a book instead … well, actually, I opted for the audio CD which tends to come with any children’s book worth its salt these days. So while I flew ‘round the house packing bags, scoffing toast and scrubbing armpits (don’t worry, I always wash my hands before scrubbing my armpits), I powered-up the hi-fi for the wee one to listen to Margaret Atwood reading her illustrated children’s book, Up in the Tree.
Yes, THE Margaret Atwood; doyen of fine, feminist-leaning literature (I always get into trouble when I go with that description at our book club - I thought this site could use some provocativeness). Normally she’s writing about the poor plight of women in North America, or about post-apocalyptic mutant freaks and their interactive politics.
But here, she’s released a hand-drawn, minimal colour, illustrated kids’ book that she wrote years ago, while a student. Whatever your opinion of Ms Atwood’s work (and I’ll admit that mine is not particularly high), this book is a very pleasant, stripped-back piece of honest literature, and I love it. So does Hambones, as it happens, so we both sat and waited for ‘Aters’ to crank-up and provide us with a whole, new, loving perspective of the story we had been reading for a year or so.
But what do we get? Some deep-voiced, heavy-breathing drag queen in a hurry to get to her next Abba Tribute Show such that she’s through each page quicker than Hambones and I can even follow them. Of all people who I thought might have taken the time to inflect surprise, emotion and drama into the tale, it might have been the author. We’re really sorry to have taken-up so much of your precious time in the studio, Margaret … selfish cow!
Dear Donk - a swift scan down your Labels list does not reveal topics one might associate with drollery ... oh! D-roll.
ReplyDeleteI can support your 'MA as poor interpreter' theory, with my own experience of Barry Humphries reading his own poetry poorly. no cadence, no lilt, no charm. I wished at the time he had just let me do it for him.
Good to see you over at AOD.
And thanks for being my first commenter here at DBD, Marshall Stacks. Much appreciated
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