Skip to main content

Belated Shrek

From J's earliest babyhood parents of all stripe have been telling me that my love for J is entirely questionable if she has not watched Shrek, that her childhood would be remarkably empty for the want of that experience, that I would regret my decision to my dying day if she grew up to be the one kid in the known universe who had not watched Shrek. Now that she is getting ready for kindergarten, I figured it was time to introduce her to the cultural icon of her generation. We watched Shrek this afternoon at the long last.

If the message of the movie was to look beyond superficial beauty and love the person inside, it was lost on both of us. The ending was deflating for me in that the beautiful princess had to turn into a fulltime ogre to become Mrs Shrek.

Its wonderful that Shrek remained an ogre but wouldn't the lesson be more convincingly taught if Fiona turned forever beautiful and still loved the ogre. My take away at the end of the ninety minute plus hoopla was that ugly people belong together and if you're too beautiful for your significant other, you need to kiss them and reach their level of unattractiveness. You cannot be beautiful outside and love someone that is not - not in real life, not in a fairy tale and not even in a deconstructed fairlytale Hollywood style. Physical compatibilty is key to loving and living happily ever after.

J was confused because the spell did not break like it was supposed to. The first kiss of true love did not make both Mr. and Mrs. Shrek beautiful. She was not able to reconcile between the princess and the ogre-ess and figured that the princess died when she kissed the ogre. How horrifying ! She wondered how the nice princess come to such a sad end.

I wished adults would leave fairy tales alone and find other vehicles in literature to make their crude adult jokes. Despoiling fairy tales to entertain grownups leaves children without a childhood memory to fondly revisit as an adult. It is yet another example of excessive consumption and inconsideration for our progeny.

In any case, J is now Shrek-aware and therefore ready to take on the social and cultural challenges of kindergarten.

J must have been mulling the fate of the princess when post-parandial enlightenment struck her. She declares "I figured out how the princess turned ugly" I was curious to know. "They marinated her in gold and that's what turned her ugly. It's not a good idea to marinate people in gold. It makes them ugly." she explained to me. This was her understanding of the fireworks that followed the Shrek-Fiona kiss. Who knew watching me marinate chicken in soy-sauce would lead to this one day ?

What would I do without J to decrypt Hollywood for me ?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques