by Jillian Butler, Ampersandology
While I never forgot that Lord Byron owned a pet bear, I did forget the reason he got it.
It was because Cambridge wouldn't let him get a dog. Badass. He later suggested that the bear apply for a college fellowship. Badass. His ultimate goal was to make the bear his best friend. MOST BADASS OF ALL.
I wish Childe Harold's Pilgrimage had been about Byron and his bear roaming the English countryside and solving mysteries. Not only would that make a much better poem, it has serious sitcom potential: like The Odd Couple, but with BEARS!
Bears represent so much more than the last thing you'd want to meet in the woods. Especially in children's literature and film, bears become a great example of the place in the imagination where fear meets anthropomorphism: look no farther than the high quantities of "friendly" bears to tell us how much we like to paint the scary corners of our fears in bright colorful polka dots.
Indulge me, if you will, to take a look back through the greatest bears of pop culture history.
Troubling racial messages aside, Disney's The Jungle Book features one hep cat in the form of Baloo the bear. He sings, he dances, and BOY. Does he love honey. Some of the most bizarre imagery of my youth came from watching Baloo eat a mouthful of bees. Is honey delicious enough to warrant a tongue full of bee stings? The question haunted me so I didn't put on my food until age 17. Regardless, this laissez-faire attitude is what puts Baloo on this list: the "Bare Necessities" is less a runaway pop hit and more an anthem of a strangely-spartan hedonism.
In the original Kipling work, Baloo was basically the exact opposite of his screen portrayal. He was stern, and often used beatings and other punishment methods to get through Mowgli's thick human head. That backwards stiff has no business on this list. One stiff and disciplined, the other carefree and hip. Makes you think of the Wakefield twins, really.
Let me tell you, it is HARD to pull off red and blue without looking like the political split down American soil. Paddington Bear does that and then some, managing to get himself adopted by humans and conforming to a charming British befuddlement.
Smokey the Bear
Did you YOU leave fire unattended in the forest? Yeah, I didn't think so. I sure didn't. Mostly because I don't ever go in the forest, but ALSO because of Smokey's simple, elegant threat against my well-being.
A beloved fixture from my youth, I still can't pinpoint why Fozzy Bear is so charming. Is it his fuzzy, over-sized digits? Perhaps it's his little cravat, making him both clownish and fancy in one fell swoop? Personally, I think it was the deep level of pathos he carried with every lame duck of a joke; he's a clown who's not funny, giving whatever laughter he earns the slight tinge of sadness. He's that one uncle who thinks you'll still laugh at the same joke you liked when you were two. Those guys are hard to shake. I know what a cow sounds like, Uncle Geoff. I'm 25. God.
This post is dedicated to my friend Adam, whose love of bears and bears-related topics inspires me almost every day (...that he mentions this passion).
While I never forgot that Lord Byron owned a pet bear, I did forget the reason he got it.
It was because Cambridge wouldn't let him get a dog. Badass. He later suggested that the bear apply for a college fellowship. Badass. His ultimate goal was to make the bear his best friend. MOST BADASS OF ALL.
Loose interpretation of the event.
I wish Childe Harold's Pilgrimage had been about Byron and his bear roaming the English countryside and solving mysteries. Not only would that make a much better poem, it has serious sitcom potential: like The Odd Couple, but with BEARS!
Bears represent so much more than the last thing you'd want to meet in the woods. Especially in children's literature and film, bears become a great example of the place in the imagination where fear meets anthropomorphism: look no farther than the high quantities of "friendly" bears to tell us how much we like to paint the scary corners of our fears in bright colorful polka dots.
Indulge me, if you will, to take a look back through the greatest bears of pop culture history.
Baloo (The Jungle Book)
Troubling racial messages aside, Disney's The Jungle Book features one hep cat in the form of Baloo the bear. He sings, he dances, and BOY. Does he love honey. Some of the most bizarre imagery of my youth came from watching Baloo eat a mouthful of bees. Is honey delicious enough to warrant a tongue full of bee stings? The question haunted me so I didn't put on my food until age 17. Regardless, this laissez-faire attitude is what puts Baloo on this list: the "Bare Necessities" is less a runaway pop hit and more an anthem of a strangely-spartan hedonism.
In the original Kipling work, Baloo was basically the exact opposite of his screen portrayal. He was stern, and often used beatings and other punishment methods to get through Mowgli's thick human head. That backwards stiff has no business on this list. One stiff and disciplined, the other carefree and hip. Makes you think of the Wakefield twins, really.
Paddington Bear
Smokey the Bear
Did you YOU leave fire unattended in the forest? Yeah, I didn't think so. I sure didn't. Mostly because I don't ever go in the forest, but ALSO because of Smokey's simple, elegant threat against my well-being.
Fozzy Bear (The Muppet Show)
Sleeping Bear (Legends of the Fall)
Skip ahead to 1:20 to see the only bear that has EVER bested Brad Pitt.
Bear Grylls
Convince me this man is real. You can't. I saw him use his own bloody fist as bait! BAIT! There is so much wrong with that sentence that it doubles back into right. Though I know at least one person that would disagree with me, Bear Grylls impresses me in the same moment I reach the dictionary to look up the definition of Batshit Crazy (verb, meaning to be foolish or impractical to the point of insanity; intensely involved with LAUGHING AT THE LIMITS OF THE HUMAN BODY). His mother was probably Hera or something, which makes him a demi-god, not a television host. Nice try, Discovery Channel, but you can't fool me twice!
Wojtek the Bear
Orphaned as a cub, this real-life bear was adopted by the Polish army and trained to transport ammunition, in addition to eating cigarettes, drinking beer, and --reportedly-- interrogating Nazis. Let me repeat that--this bear supposedly sat himself down across from Nazi spies and asked, "WHAT'S UP, BADDIE?" in Bear. To be fair, it's the move of a brilliant tactician--what wouldn't you tell a bear who's demanding a full confession? What a way to serve your country; did you hear that, Von Trapp family singers? Do re methinks you've been served.
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