Today, We the Living by Ayn Rand and A Room of One's Own by Virgnia Woolf were escorted through the Magic Kingdom by me, and also by Anxious Pleasures by Lance Olsen.

I recently read A Room of One's Own for the first time. Oh, I "read" it as an undergraduate, but I didn't really pay any attention. I was not interested in reading about feminism because I was too busy rolling by eyes at it. What I found, when I finally got to it, was that the book was surprisingly funny, and not just some stuffy crank about how rough women have it. In fact, even way back then, Virginia Woolf was telling women to get on with life -- make something, do something, say something, discover something -- and quit howling about men and how awful everything is.

The Magic Kingdom is all about girls having rooms of their own. Minnie Mouse even has an entire house of her own:



Ariel has that nice grotto:



And we all know who lives here:



A Room of One's Own had no trouble getting into the party spirit. We the Living, however, which is about the Russian Revolution, and, you know, the human spirit and stuff, had more difficulty relaxing.



She didn't see the point of riding a flying elephant.



She didn't think it was, after all, a small world. Then there was the part where she almost got into a duel with Woody the Dancing Cowboy.



The Country Bear Jamboree is just pap for the masses.



Not even cool chillin' in a rocking chair by Tom Sawyer's Island worked.



When a book is so deeply into nobly self-sacrificing itself strictly for its own individual gain, sometimes you just have to ditch it by the turkey leg stand and run off. So, Anxious Pleasures and A Room of One's Own snuck off on their own to the Haunted Mansion.



Here's Anxious Pleasures on Goofy's Barnstormer:



The front row seat was taken by someone's crazy little children:



Trying on Christmas headgear:



How about a horse of one's own?



I'm not surprised that Ayn Rand's book was able to resist the seduction of the Magic Kingdom. She's a grim sort, and determined. If spinning teacups won't change your mind, then nothing will. Still, can you not imagine Kira and Leo on the teacups, spinning the winter away? Instead of dying in the snow, so close to the border, so close. At least they had their day at Disney, with no tuberculosis in sight, no snow, and a small world after all.



That's it for this trip. I appreciate those who have linked to this project. Tomorrow we are on our way back to Virginia.

See ya real soon!

Labels: ayn rand, take the books to disney world

Today three books accompanied me to Disney MGM Studios: The House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus, Fear and Trembling by Soren Kierkegaard, and As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner.

There are two "thrill rides" at Disney MGM Studios: Tower of Terror, where an elevator car gets yanked up and down, and up and down, and up and down again, causing the contents (book and human) to freefall periodically, and the Rock and Roll Roller Coaster, where you get shot around in the dark, including upside down. The House of Sand and Fog rode both these rides, even the freefalling one, even though I was actually crying at one point, crying for my life to return to me.

Here's The House of Sand and Fog blending into the decor inside the Hollywood Tower Hotel (where the aforementioned elevator is located):



Here he's posing with a fellow fan of freefall:



This guy said, "What's the book about?"
And I said, "Well, it's pretty depressing. So I brought it to Disney World to cheer it up."
And the guy said, "Fair enough."
Brits don't demand too much explanation when it comes to odd projects.

The House of Sand and Fog and As I Lay Dying both really loved the Beauty and the Beast live show. Here they are watching a foggy scene, and the scene where the beast lies dying:




They further bonded over some pin trading:



And at the "Honey I Shrunk The Kids" playground. Here's The House of Sand and Fog playing hide and seek:



Look on the rocks behind the giant tub of Play-doh, As I Lay Dying! I think that's where he's hiding!



Oh, wait, it's only Fear and Trembling, having another pout.



Don't get pizza sauce on your Oprah's Book Club badge, The House of Sand and Fog. And sit up straight in your high chair.




It wasn't until we got to the Muppets in 3D Movie that Fear and Trembling began to appreciate the outing. Kierkegaard said he liked the muppet community because each member maintained his own uniqueness and character, and there was no assimilation or group mentality. He also said it was difficult to understand, and therefore inspiring. It may have been made more difficult by his refusal to wear the 3D glasses, but... I didn't want to press him. He kept leaping into a fake props box marked "2D Fruities."



One final literal interpretation. The House of Sand and Fog in Tattoine:



Tomorrow is our last adventure in the Magic Kingdom. A Room of One's Own has been clamoring for a seat on the tour bus. We the Living too. So it'll be girls' day out, with Anxious Pleasures to chaperone, naturally.

Labels: books, disney world, kierkegaard, mgm studios, take the books to disney world, the house of sand and fog

Moby Dick and One Dimensional Man have been having arguments. Apparently Herbert Marcuse had a grammar school literature teacher who told him that Moby Dick was all about good vs. evil. And you know we can't tolerate good vs. evil here in Dialectia. I have found I can't leave them alone together. Moby Dick came with us to Epcot this morning, but he was only allowed out of the bag for one exhibit: The Living Seas.

He fidgeted through the Nemo ride, but enjoyed the aquariums:

Here he is touching the real shark skin. Reminding himself that it's not good vs. evil, it's shark vs. shark. The whale is the man is the whale. He can relate to the story of Finding Nemo. The plot about "fish are friends, not food" could have been lifted from the text of Moby Dick, when the cook talks about sharks governing themselves. I can't be bothered to look it up right now. I don't even know if my legs still work, after all the walking we did today. But whatever. It is eerily similar.

Here, Moby Dick watches Turtle Talk with Crush. A whale makes a joke appearance. Moby Dick is stonily silent.

After the show, he goes straight for the sauce:

I love this book. This is the actual copy that I first read, at 15, when I first fell in love with it. It still has my purple underlining in it, kind of faded on the page. Maybe taking the book out in public was a bad idea, but in spite of all its stumbling bravado, in spite of all its raucous and embarrassing energy, I'm glad I showed it a good time.

For the rest of the day, my new friend Zyzzyva (The San Francisco Literary Magazine)was the guest of honor.

Zyzzyva wanted to ride Mission: Space and Test Track. I somehow sublimated my motion sickness and loathing of confined spaces to indulge this cute desire.

In the cockpit of Mission: Space, Zyzzyva was in the "engineer" slot, which means he was responsible for pushing the button to put the crew into hypersleep. There was one other button he was supposed to push that I can't remember, but let's not strain ourselves. After all, he is a magazine, not an engineer. As my seven-year-old says, "Oh mother, don't be crazy. It is all pretend." Here's Z in the cockpit:

Here's Zyzzyva waiting in line for Test Track:

After the ride, Zyzzyva displayed a perfunctory interest in the ethanol fuel display, but then I caught him getting information on "the most enormous SUV's made anywhere on earth" from the guy at the GM booth.

Later, Zyzzyva rode "Soarin'" which is all about handgliding over his native California. He did not exhibit much emotion, but I'm sure he was moved.

Here's Zyzzyva at "Innoventions" learning how to make paper. Very relevant information, for a book:

And here he is learning to make a robot. A cast member is teaching him. Moments before, the cast member said, "I don't know how to teach a book anything." Yet below, he is posing with his finished product. Plastics are the future, did you know?

Literary magazines are not the future, though. Nope, still not.

Tomorrow, The House of Sand and Fog attends "Mickey's Very Merry Christmas Party" and poops a candy cane, then disputes ownership of that candy cane, then kills itself spectacularly in Mickey's Country Cottage.

Labels: epcot, melville, moby dick, take the books to disney world, the living seas

I regret leaving my mobile phone on the counter this morning, when I should have packed it into my bag. There are no pictures to post. You cannot see Moby Dick having a rage episode on an unsuspeting tourist. You cannot see him getting thown out by security. You cannot see Anxious Pleasures (a Kafka rewrite) posing with the movie poster for the "A Bug's Life" show. These are pictures I will have to get off my other camera when I am back in Virginia. I will post them here, on this post, after I do that.

Tomorrow it's Epcot. I will pack my phone.

Labels: take the books to disney world

We're going to the Magic Kingdom, and Heidegger is wearing mouse ears.

On the Way to Language is on the way to Space Mountain. So, Martin Heidegger, what is your relationship to the words, "Space" and "Mountain"? Have you ever considered your relationship to these words before? Do they touch the innermost nexus of your existence? Or what?

Heidegger:

To undergo an experience with something -- be it a thing, a person, or a god [or a mechanical roller coaster all in the dark with whooshing and screaming] -- means that this something befalls us, strikes us, comes over us, overwhelms us, and transforms us.

I don't have any good pictures of me helping Heidegger ride Space Mountain, because it is dark in there. I do hereby swear on my own becoming that I held him up high, and he was probably really transformed.

Here is One-Dimensional Man by Herbert Marcuse, watching the comedy show "The Laughing Floor," based on the movie, "Monsters Inc." If you're not familiar with Marcuse's classic critique of moden society, here's the gist: we're all a bunch of happy, fat, complacent conformists, who just accept everything comfortable and normal, because individuality and freedom is too hard for our enormous middle-class asses. He also believes that waste and destruction are bad. This book was big in the 60's, yes? Are we together now?

He thought the monsters were really two-dimensional and that the jokes were repressive.

He didn't feel right about the dualism of Buzz Lightyear's battle with the Evil Emperor Zurg, either. Good vs. Evil. So reductive. So farcical.

Marcuse went on to say:

"In the most advanced areas of this civilization, the social controls have been introjected to the point where even individual protest is affected at its roots. The intellectual and emotional refusal to 'go along' appears neurotic and impotent. [Curse you, Star Command!!!]"

It's just what I've always privately felt about Disney: Not dialectical enough. They should work on that.

Here's Marcuse glowering at the guy who sings in the Carnival of Progress:

Great big beautiful tomorrow, forsooth!

At the Swiss Family Robinson's Tree House, he yearned for a return to simpler times, when people rebelled against the hulls of their ships, got themselves properly shipwrecked, and then lived in trees. When revolution was really possible. And simple machines could change your whole plumbing situation.

On the Way to Language was down with the treehouse life, but I have to say it was a real drag how he wanted to read, read, read every single sign in the whole park. Enough with the words, buddy. We get it.

After one last attempt to cheer up One-Dimensional Man, we stowed him in the stroller and let Dr. Zhivago join the party. Here's Marcuse on Aladdin's Magic Carpet, griping about how pretending to be a prince just plays into the existing imperialist norms. Whatever. Go get spit on by a camel.

Does anyone need to go look up dialectic? No? Alright.

The good Dr. Zhivago was a bundle of energy, right out of the book bag. He fell in love with Cinderella at first sight during the afternoon parade. Then, at Splash Mountain, he had to be pulled down off the roof of The Laughing Place. Here's the angry parent of a child he was taunting, revoking his playtime privileges. Time out, Dr. Zhivago, if you're going to act the fool at Disney World.

Here's Dr. Z on the Thunder Mountain Railroad. Not the five o'clock express through the steppes by any stretch of the imagination, but of course, he still wanted to sit in the front. I can't totally grasp the significance of railroads to the Russian Revolution, but that's probably because at that point in the text I was so beset by eight syllable surnames that I was crying on my sleeve.

Tomorrow, it's a trip to Animal Kingdom for Moby Dick and Anxious Pleasures. Rowr!

Labels: books, disney world, dr. zhivago, heidegger, magic kingdom, marcuse, take the books to disney world

After our night of rocketry on Cocoa Beach, we were enthusiastic about going to Kennedy Space Center today. Except, that is, for that dismal damned Kierkegaard book, who stayed home to pout. He said he doesn't like being taken out of context. Well.

At Kennedy Space Center, a non-NASA company has been contracted to make the visitor complex into an amusement-park-like experience. When Benny said, "This is just like Disney World!" I knew that either they had succeeded, or else Benny is getting his nerd on very young.

At first We the Living was a little giddy on all the iconography:

But she took a seat with a friend:

To watch The House of the Seven Gables ride the Space Shuttle simulator:

Speaking of our quiet, colonial friend, The House of the Seven Gables was shy around the living astronauts:

But was chillingly comfortable with astronauts of the past:

So I said, "Let go of that suffocating history, The House of the Seven Gables. You can be free." Free in a Mercury rocket crew capsule. C'mon, everyone climb aboard!

As I Lay Dying kept sidling up to the robots. This one quipped, "How about As I Lay Rusting?" Ha ha!

All three of the books enjoyed the IMAX 3D movies:

However, We the Living just had to point out that the lock on the bathroom stall was very ineffeciently put together, the screw holes skewed, the whole mechanism crooked. Well, NASA? Is this your idea of the pinnacle of man's technological achievement? His hand reaching like a rocket into the void? This crappy bathroom stall lock? Sickeningly unRoarkian. Tsk tsk.

So full of eye-rolling and scorn was she after her trip to the potty that she wouldn't even join the other books on the lunar rover.

I think my guests all learned something, and they definitely all made friends. When even a musty and tremulous book like The House of the Seven Gables can get its spine around an astronaut, certainly Faulkner would have no trouble charming my kids:

Labels: kennedy space center, nasa, take the books to disney world

We are still on our way to Disney World. No one should panic.

Tonight we went to see the Delta IV Rocket launch from the Kennedy Space Center at Cape Canaveral. We stood on the edge of the ocean at Cocoa Beach to watch it go up. I took along Fear and Trembling by Soren Kierkegaard, and We the Living by Ayn Rand. I thought that Fear and Trembling would really appreciate the way the rocket was subverting the universal for the individual, and of course, the trembling beach beneath us. I knew that We the Living would deeply respect the simultaneous frailty and power of that rocket climbing into space, an expression of human achievement, and another mad swipe at the firmament.


(terrible video uploaded from mobile phone!)

Unfortunately I got excited watching the rocket, and forgot to take either book out of my bag so that they could experience the sublime rumbling, the flash of orange that lit up the ocean, and the cries of fellow rocket nerds: "Happy Birthday, NASA!"

There was a bit of grumbling and a "What's that, a piece of apple core?"

To make up to the books for my gross neglect of their entertainment, I took them instead to the world famous "Ron Jon Surf Shop." It was on our way back to the car, and I thought they might enjoy it?

Here are the books:

And again:

See how the blonde loves literature? We the Living is the short one. Fear and Trembling is taller.

About this surf shop experience, Kierkegaard had the following to say:

"It goes without saying that the tragic hero, like any other man who is not
bereft of speech, can say a few words in his culminating moment, perhaps a few
appropriate words, but the question is how appropriate is it for him to say
them. If the meaning of his life is in an external act, then he has nothing to
say, then everything he says is essentially chatter, by which he only diminishes
his impact, whereas the tragic conventions enjoin him to complete his task in
silence, whether it consists in action or suffering."

I chose that quote for him because I see that as an undergraduate I wrote the word, "HAH!" next to that paragraph in the margin. I must have been anticipating the culminating moment of this particular book, outside the Ron Jon Surf Shop, and Kierkegaard suffering in knightly silence.

Labels: books, disney world, kierkegaard, take the books to disney world

The books had to be up early. We left at 6:30.

Here is The House of the Seven Gables sticking his head out the window, getting some air, letting his jowls go flapping:



It's been years since he felt the wind ruffling his pages.

Here are Anxious Pleasures and The House of Sand and Fog checking out the space coast, from our hotel room in Cocoa Beach:



Zzyzzyva made itself useful making coffee. Bustling around, all purposeful:



All in all the books behaved well on the trip. The Heidegger kept its comments to itself, for now, and Moby Dick gave Hawthorne his space. Now we're going to watch the Delta IV rocket launch. Taking a few books with me. Hope they like it.

Labels: books, disney world, take the books to disney world

Some time ago, I decided to take some books to Disney World. I asked for help in narrowing down my guest list, and now I've made my final selections. I've narrowed it down to twelve, and here they are:



1. A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf (Wanted specially to go, to see Cinderella's castle.)
2. Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak (Look! Already wearing mouse ears!)
3. Anxious Pleasures by Lance Olsen (To make up for not reviewing it sooner.)
4. Fear and Trembling by Soren Kierkegaard (Because he deserves it.)
5. As I Lay Dying by William Faulkner (Must see Flying Dumbos.)
6. We the Living by Ayn Rand (A smile means friendship for everyone!)
7. Zzyzzyva (This is a literary magazine, sent to me by the publisher, to thank me, or scold me, or inform me after I wrote my screech about how literary magazines are dead.)
8. House of Sand and Fog by Andre Dubus (A reader suggestion, thank you.)
9. One Dimensional Man by Herbert Marcuse (For help in staging protests at gift shops.)
10. On the Way to Language by Martin Heidegger (For interpreting words like "Imagineers.")
11. Moby Dick by Herman Melville (Because it is my favorite book ever.)
12. House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne (Because Moby Dick wanted him along.)

If you aren't on the list and you expected to be, it was because I didn't have a paperback copy of your book (Joshilyn Jackson, looking at you) or because I couldn't find my copy of your book (Sylvia Plath, hello). There you are. Tomorrow we start our trip. May we all have a damn good time. If you can't wait to see where we are and what we're doing, you can follow us on our mobile blog. I will try to write while I am away, but if the internet doesn't smile on our timeshare, I will see you when I get back.

Labels: books, disney world, take the books to disney world, trips