Most popular posts of 2011….

Time for the biannual summary of the posts clicked on most. Some of my favorites have fallen aside, but seven posts from the list six months ago remain, with Cheez Doodles still dominating.

  1. Cheez Doodles as Art (1), posted on January 8, 2011
  2. Obsession preserves a slice of time in Mexico, posted on November 4, 2011
  3. “Nuit of the Living Dead” (6), posted on October 30, 2010
  4. Ban the Banner (2), posted on August 8, 2010
  5. Alamollywood Part I: Are the Daughters Extremely Savvy or Starstruck? (3), posted on January 2, 2011
  6. Susan Toomey Frost stimulates a second revival of San Antonio’s traditional tilework, posted on June 24, 2011
  7. ‘Loanership’ program leads to Texas Centennial series of prints opening at King William Art, posted on May 28, 2011
  8. Please put this song on Tony’s pony, and make it ride away (9), posted on July 25, 2010
  9. Best Restaurant in Valladolid (5), Plus Warning, posted on March 17, 2010
  10. Preserving the Art of ‘Papel Picado’ (10), posted on April 30, 2010
  11. Oh, no! Not the Alamo (again). Can the lost mission of St. Anthony be found?, posted on June 11, 2011
  12. ‘1,2,3. What do you see?’ Too many toucans to count., posted on August 9, 2011

Thanks for following, and love receiving feedback. You have once again given me license to exercise absolutely no discipline in selecting topics about which to blog.

On-screen affairs and abortions in the 1930s?

From my boomer perspective, I always envisioned that, aside from the out of control wild times of the flapper days, life in the first half of the 20th century was ruled by more prudes than even encountered in the late 1950s.

However, while working out today, I watched part of a Turner classic film from 1933 that altered my opinion of life in that decade. Ann Vickers, starring Irene Dunne and Walter Huston, was based on a novel by Sinclair Lewis released only a few months earlier than the film itself. Reviewing the book for Scribner’s Magazine, critic Eli Siegel harshly concluded:

I suppose, therefore, that all laudatory adjectives could be used about Mr. Lewis’s last novel except those meaning that it was great.

Warning: Plot-spoiling ahead.

Not having read the novel, what amazes me is the topics dealt with quite openly in the screen version of Ann Vickers. This movie would not have passed the test of whatever Catholic rating system my mother would quote in order to forbid my viewing almost anything other than a Disney cartoon. The main character in the plot:

  • Rejects suitors to choose a career over marriage
  • Is close friends with an independent female physician
  • Has an affair with a cad off to World War I
  • Gets pregnant
  • Has an abortion
  • Takes a job in a woman’s prison
  • Is unwittingly framed in a compromising photo and blackmailed by those running the prison
  • Exposes the poor treatment of inmates in prison
  • Falls in love with a judge whose wife is running around with a paramour in Europe yet refuses to divorce him
  • Falls in love with said judge just as he is set to be charged for insider trading
  • Has an illegitimate son with the judge
  • And, when the now-divorced judge is paroled after three years, seems poised to live happily ever after…..

1933? Surely this movie must have been banned or have ended the career of Irene Dunne? But Dunne’s career was hot; she was gaining a reputation as the “First Lady of Hollywood.” And the contemporary review of Ann Vickers written by Mordaunt Hall for The New York Times barely raises an eyebrow about the subject matter and does not warn viewers of its mature content:

Although it cannot be said that the shadows passing on the screen are definite replicas of the characters drawn by the author, the incidents are invariably interesting although never suspenseful. More often than not the natures of the persons involved are hinted at rather than adroitly delineated, and the narrative, which touches on many phases of Ann’s eventful career, is somewhat too episodical. Owing to the fact that the producers have captured more than a mere suggestion of the spirit of the author, the picture holds one’s attention.

Under the “Trivia” section of The Internet Movie Database, I learned the plot did arouse some pushback from the Hays Office of censorship in 1933 and later, in 1935, a denial of an “approved” rating that probably destined the film for obscurity:

Some objections were made by the Hays Office concerning the plot of the first draft of the screenplay, where Ann marries Captain Resnick and then has an affair with Barney. The plot was changed to Ann being seduced by the Captain with the offense somehow deemed less if only one of the parties in the adulterous affair is married. No reference is made about any abortion in the trip to Havana, and in the released print the cause of death of Ann’s baby girl is never mentioned. RKO applied for an “Approved” certificate in 1935, when the production code was more rigorously enforced, but they were informed that no certificate would be given because of the film’s attitude towards adultery.

In the midst of all of the scandalous behavior in the film that  reviewer Hall seemingly ignored:
 
Miss Dunne, as has been mentioned, acquits herself favorably.
 

While Ann Vickers is far from an outstanding film, it is worth watching for its alternative view of life in the 1930s. And, for the same reason, I was hoping to download the book to my Kindle. Alas, it is not available. Nor is it a title in the catalog of the San Antonio Public Library, so I have resorted to ordering a used copy via snail mail.

Are analogies full of holes, or are there just too many holes in my head?

As someone who writes, this is a confession I should probably not make. But here it is: I have major problems with analogies.  

I don’t mean the kind on verbal college admission tests, such as this:

Butterfly is to caterpillar as frog is to:

A. fish     B. amphibian     C. tadpole     D. toad

I can follow that logic easily. And I have learned not to get overly distracted by the imagery in commonplace idioms such as “raining cats and dogs.” Well, almost.

But I am talking about speakers who use long-winded analogies. By the time the speaker returns to the original point, they have lost me completely. I am concentrating solely on the analogy.

And I am referring to advertising as well. Generally, I am not subjected to much television advertising. The fast-forward button is extremely effective in eliminating it.

But, while working out at the gym, I have no such option. Which brings me to Swiss cheese, and the holes in it.

Some branch of Humana, I’d tell you which but it escapes me, is running an adverstisement focusing on three wedges of Swiss cheese. Some man keeps telling me to buy the cheese on the left, representing some Humana product with no holes in its coverage. But that cheese looks like flavorless baby Swiss cheese. I really prefer the cheese on the right with big holes on it. For some reason, I have always thought holey cheese tasted better than namby-pamby baby Swiss. I know logically the holes themselves have no flavor, but the cheese around them does.

Surely Humana has focus groups, so I guess I’m the only one who can’t fathom the wisdom of the analogy. All they have accomplished is sending me to the refrigerator to slice some Jarlsberg and exam its holes.

Maybe that is the whole point. Maybe the advertisement actually is extremely clever product placement by the Dairy Council?