*-[The things we do]`+
I just finished watching 'A Cinderella Story'. Starring Hilary Duff. And it was stereotyped, corny, and slightly adhesive to the original script. Except that it was a cell phone and not a glass slipper. I'd have laughed it off in any normal situation. I'd have walked off halfway to get food, noting that prince charming wasn't even cute. Oh come on.
But I just sat there, and watched the whole way through. Why? Because something inside me- the little girl inside me told me that I wanted to watch a fairy tale come true. And anyone who's old enough knows that true blue fairy tales are corny. We've grown up to change our ideas of fairy tales. The Cinderella I see now is modern, different, less naive. Is it because we've become more coherent as the years have passed? Or is it because we've become so disillusioned about romance that we modify it so that it still seems feasible. Perhaps a cynically dysfuntional mixture of both, but I also believe I've come to ask for something better than a fairy tale. Too much, you say?
As with all social conventions, the Cinderella Story addresses the norms in western lifestyle- bitchy girls, cute out-of-our-league guys, and we've always cast ourselves as the dull plain jane. That's what the story rides on- the victory of the underdog. But to what point and purpose? The guy Cinderella gets is hardly pristine, and hasn't enough moral courage, nor the guts to do what he should have. What are they telling us? That true sensible romance is boring? I think not. And That's why movies only last a couple of hours. Anymore and we'll be disillusioned by the facts that'll hit in a while. The inner turmoil that comes with these stories isn't all fun. So they happen in real life. So what? I think it hurts more than not in real life.
Maybe I'm just sour grapes. But the corny love stories of cinderella and her confederates don't work for me anymore. I'm 17, and wish I wasn't. Remember that story in Ellery Queen we read, Rachel? The one where the rich man's wife became wheelchair bound and the carpenter killed her husband at her request? There's something about that story that intrigues me. Maybe because it frightens me that people do so much for such a small reason, but also because feelings are such a powerful force if you let them be.
I think I'm being too... cynical? SiGh. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss.
[The cry of my heart. Is to be true.]
I just finished watching 'A Cinderella Story'. Starring Hilary Duff. And it was stereotyped, corny, and slightly adhesive to the original script. Except that it was a cell phone and not a glass slipper. I'd have laughed it off in any normal situation. I'd have walked off halfway to get food, noting that prince charming wasn't even cute. Oh come on.
But I just sat there, and watched the whole way through. Why? Because something inside me- the little girl inside me told me that I wanted to watch a fairy tale come true. And anyone who's old enough knows that true blue fairy tales are corny. We've grown up to change our ideas of fairy tales. The Cinderella I see now is modern, different, less naive. Is it because we've become more coherent as the years have passed? Or is it because we've become so disillusioned about romance that we modify it so that it still seems feasible. Perhaps a cynically dysfuntional mixture of both, but I also believe I've come to ask for something better than a fairy tale. Too much, you say?
As with all social conventions, the Cinderella Story addresses the norms in western lifestyle- bitchy girls, cute out-of-our-league guys, and we've always cast ourselves as the dull plain jane. That's what the story rides on- the victory of the underdog. But to what point and purpose? The guy Cinderella gets is hardly pristine, and hasn't enough moral courage, nor the guts to do what he should have. What are they telling us? That true sensible romance is boring? I think not. And That's why movies only last a couple of hours. Anymore and we'll be disillusioned by the facts that'll hit in a while. The inner turmoil that comes with these stories isn't all fun. So they happen in real life. So what? I think it hurts more than not in real life.
Maybe I'm just sour grapes. But the corny love stories of cinderella and her confederates don't work for me anymore. I'm 17, and wish I wasn't. Remember that story in Ellery Queen we read, Rachel? The one where the rich man's wife became wheelchair bound and the carpenter killed her husband at her request? There's something about that story that intrigues me. Maybe because it frightens me that people do so much for such a small reason, but also because feelings are such a powerful force if you let them be.
I think I'm being too... cynical? SiGh. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss.
[The cry of my heart. Is to be true.]
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