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The Friday Article Roundup

The FAR is like a child who wanders into the middle of a movie

Get your bearings with this week's pop culture writing from around the internet.

Which way will you turn to, lost Magpies reader?

  • gender critique of children’s literature
  • world-building critique of children’s television
  • religious critique of children’s publishing
  • economic critique of ageless sagacity
  • cinematic critique of childlike entertainment

Thanks to C.D. Ploughman for putting away childish things and sending in contributions! “Send articles throughout the next week to magpiesfar[at]gmail.com, post articles from the past week in the comments for discussion, and Have a Happy Friday!”ย 


Forย The Pudding, Melanie Walsh heads a data study of how animals in chlidren’s books are gendered:

First up: childrenโ€™s books. After filtering the data to focus on animals who were explicitly gendered (she/her or he/him) and appeared in at least 10 different books, only a few animals were more consistently gendered female: birds, ducks, and cats. The restโ€”frog, wolf, fox, elephant, dog, monkey, bear, rabbit, mouse, and pigโ€”skew male. Because so much of our worldview is shaped by our environment when we are young, automatically reaching for he after โ€œlook at the frog!โ€ starts to make some sense. After all, thatโ€™s what the books say.

Atย Episodes, Emily St. James and Libby Hill attempt to parse the mythology of their child’s favorite cartoon show,ย Firebudsย and discover madness:

What’s different, however, is that it’s clear there’s some sort of deeper world-building at play in Firebuds, but creator Craig Gerber and his team only sprinkle little bits of it over the top of various episodes. For instance, the closest thing the series has to a protagonist is young Bo, a rescue-happy boy whose vroom-mate is a firetruck named Flash. In one episode, Bo and Flash celebrate their shared birthday, and you might be, like, “Oh, that makes sense! Vroom-mates are born the same day and pair-bond for life!” But no. The show goes out of its way to have Bo and Flash sing a song about how unusual it is that they share a birthday. Why does it do this? Who can say! Evidently, there’s something about this that we’re supposed to glean as important, but it’s never entirely clear.

Ethan Warren interviews John Darnielle about work ethics, ideal listeners and the right way to read the Narnia books at Broad Sound:

EW: Do you have a feeling about whether you read The Magicianโ€™s Nephew first, or The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe?

JD: I donโ€™t like any retconning stuff. They were issued in the order they were issued in. This is a Catholic stance. You gave me this, and so thatโ€™s what Iโ€™m reading. Iโ€™m not here to reorder it some other kind of way… I mean, the other thing is, for any scene in the entire story to be first besides the scene with Mr. Tumnus just feels really short-sighted. Entering snowy Narnia ought to be your first view of the whole thing, right? Itโ€™s not about plots or anything else. Who cares? Doesnโ€™t really matter what order the stories are told in. What matters is your first view, your first look. And the first look you want is the wardrobe.

Crooked Marquee‘s Sara Batkie looks on Agnes Varda’sย The Gleaners and Iย on its 25th anniversary:

As with just about everything Varda makes, to attempt to describe what the film is about is to extract much of its joy. Perhaps itโ€™s best to start where she does with a definition of what a โ€œgleanerโ€ is: someone who gathers from a field after the harvest. Like a flaneur, itโ€™s presented as a distinctly Francophone pursuit; other countries might practice it but it was perfected in Vardaโ€™s. It was historically considered womenโ€™s work. By the time Varda decided to make her documentary, modern machinery had made it essentially obsolete. And yet it persists, which is partly why Varda is interested in it as a subject. In an age when our culture has weaponized the concept of worth, gleaning is the art of salvaging what others have deemed disposable.

And the big comic book movie of the moment is given the antagonist it deserves — The New Yorker’s Richard Brody:

Gunnโ€™s skill set in developing a batch of antic characters and episodes proves similarly wide and thin; itโ€™s altogether different from the art of exploring the full potential of an idea or delving into the character of a lonely hero. The superheroic team and Lexโ€™s cabal fight one another amid catastrophes in which fungible people are served up as collateral damage without ever getting individual voices. The top-down superspectacle follows the track of its plot with mechanical obstinacy, reserving its hearty empathy for humanity in general without imagining any particular people in it outside the protagonistโ€™s immediate circle of friends and enemies. All of Metropolis and the world at largeโ€”in which Superman claims free scope of actionโ€”are simply backdrops. Despite touches of menace, โ€œSupermanโ€ feels crafted for children.