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Apr. 11th, 2013
Nostalgia...
Apr. 11th, 2013 05:59 pmI remember, years and years ago, when I was in school, seeing a film about a witch who was scary, but then stopped being scary and made magic pancakes that made everyone happy.
It seems that this memory has been bugging a lot of other people from my generation. :-)
Here's a little clip to give you the basics. The whole film (it's only 20 minutes) is also available.
It's kind of magical stepping back into the past and seeing something like that again, with a vague sort of tugging at the strings of memory.
I get much the same feeling from seeing and re-reading the old books that we had when I was a child. Some of them books I read again and again, some that I read only once or twice but remember fondly. Other books that I don't think I ever read at all, but I remember being around, and which I would love to find in a library or in a second-hand shop. Books by Eleanor Farjeon, or Edward Ardizzone. Books with Richard Scarry's animals doing all sorts of complicated, interesting jobs, or getting into hilariously disastrous adventures. Books by E. Nesbit, or Edward Eager, or with paintings by Howard Pyle or NC Wyeth. Books with drawings by Erik Blegvad or Carl Larsson or Arthur Rackham. The Green Knowe books and the Paddington Bear books and the Winnie the Pooh books (I was so dismayed that someone I was dating hadn't had Pooh growing up that I bought a very nice set that I would read to her sometimes before bed. :-)
Nostalgia is such a strange admixture of happiness and sadness, real memories dimly seen though the dust of years, and memories that must remain slightly suspect (are they tiny parts of the past, floating up through my mind, or are they imaginings, created because I *wish* they were true?) I have the feeling that I should be careful not to indulge in it too much, lest I lose my way walking int he past and never find my way back to the present, trapped in glass like Garth in Fairwater (wow, there's another jolt of nostalgia there--The Aged Poet's wonderful stories of magic curses or simple fishing villages, with their amazing drawings.)
It seems that this memory has been bugging a lot of other people from my generation. :-)
Here's a little clip to give you the basics. The whole film (it's only 20 minutes) is also available.
It's kind of magical stepping back into the past and seeing something like that again, with a vague sort of tugging at the strings of memory.
I get much the same feeling from seeing and re-reading the old books that we had when I was a child. Some of them books I read again and again, some that I read only once or twice but remember fondly. Other books that I don't think I ever read at all, but I remember being around, and which I would love to find in a library or in a second-hand shop. Books by Eleanor Farjeon, or Edward Ardizzone. Books with Richard Scarry's animals doing all sorts of complicated, interesting jobs, or getting into hilariously disastrous adventures. Books by E. Nesbit, or Edward Eager, or with paintings by Howard Pyle or NC Wyeth. Books with drawings by Erik Blegvad or Carl Larsson or Arthur Rackham. The Green Knowe books and the Paddington Bear books and the Winnie the Pooh books (I was so dismayed that someone I was dating hadn't had Pooh growing up that I bought a very nice set that I would read to her sometimes before bed. :-)
Nostalgia is such a strange admixture of happiness and sadness, real memories dimly seen though the dust of years, and memories that must remain slightly suspect (are they tiny parts of the past, floating up through my mind, or are they imaginings, created because I *wish* they were true?) I have the feeling that I should be careful not to indulge in it too much, lest I lose my way walking int he past and never find my way back to the present, trapped in glass like Garth in Fairwater (wow, there's another jolt of nostalgia there--The Aged Poet's wonderful stories of magic curses or simple fishing villages, with their amazing drawings.)
