ampersandology: film. culture. words.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Werner Herzog Reads Madeline

by Jillian Butler, Ampersandology




What follows below is my Platonic ideal of children's literature. I remember the moment when I explained to my mother why Peter Pan was all about sex; I refrained from showing her my copy of Lost Girls, lest she get the wrong idea. But really, all stories about childhood are a prelude to adult desires and fears. 

For this reason, I wish I had Werner Herzog to read me my bedtime stories when I was little. His version of children's classic articulate the feelings I had as a child, but had not yet wrapped my mouth around the words. That would come much later, after much wine. 






Sometimes, people ask me about my childhood. I was, for all intents and purposes, a very strange child. I was fussy, and didn't like the outdoors or getting wet. Other children were vast nations to be negotiated carefully. I knew how powerful it was to be a child when I was one, and in this knowledge, failed to be a child at all. 


So is it so wrong that I feel Werner Herzog provides a better truth to feed my children? Ah, well. We likely will never know. Because this shall be all they get. I happen to subscribe to the Jeremy Irons school of childrearing. 





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