Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Once Upon a Time: My first short paper assignment for Law & Disorder in Literature.

Currently a rough copy only, so no harsh jugements yet. It was hard to construct a strong argument under the limit of 1,000 words, but I'm trying.

When The Wild Things Were

Every social group has its own cultural codes; its own beliefs, customs, designations, and general way of life. However, after years of study and analysis, University of California anthropologist Donald Brown identified in his search for human universals that in every culture law, narrative, and socialization of the young by experienced kin are interconnected and play a significant role (Brown, Human Universals). This relationship is especially visible in the tool of the so-called “bed-time story” employed by many societies throughout history and the world today. These narratives expose children to law for the first time through a series of non-combative hypothetical scenarios; they do not “proscribe” behavior to children, but rather “inscribe” behavior. In a sense, they “lay down ways of being” (Manderson 90), acting as “the contemporary instrument of the subtle, loving, but relentless socialization by which the child becomes fitted out for adult life and law” (Manderson 95). Thus, stories offer societies a vehicle through which to socialize children not just to culture and customs, but to the very laws which govern and shape those entities. In his infamous children’s story Where The Wild Things Are, author Maurice Sendak explores the development of mankind’s initial relationship with the law and his eventual acceptance of his place under its yoke.

In the narrative’s exposition, Sendak introduces protagonist Max, a little boy who has just been banished without a meal by his mother for creating some ambiguous “mischief”. In this sense, Max’s plight simultaneously represents not just the plight all children, but the absolute power of the Law (in this case, Max’s mother) over the individual (Max). Sendal proposes through his deliberate omission of Max’s crime that what he has done is not worthy of examination under the eyes of the Law; as part of Society (in this case, the household) he must be willing to submit to the Law’s absolute power. The mother’s command as law-maker is in this situation so absolute it borders upon actual totalitarianism, and Max’s subsequent escape to the land where the wilds things are represents a desperate search for individual freedom of action and thought.

By the time Max reaches the distant shores of the fantastic beasts, however, the customs of his past have already begun their indelible work on his psyche. Max essentially arrives as a complete alien to the new world and yet immediately takes control, expelling commands as dictatorially and arbitrarily as his own mother had. He controls their means of entertainment, their sleep schedules, and even when they eat, allowing none of the creatures the opportunity to offer input and eventually even accepting the role of “king”, a reward that ultimately results from his exceptionally fearless tyranny. Though some of his edicts proclaim the existence of an absolute freedom (“Let the wild rumpus start!”) the freedom is only valid insofar as he decides it is, a mirror of his mother’s arbitrary sense of punishment that occurs at the closing of the work.

Despite having total control, Max is nonetheless dissatisfied with his orientation; against his will, he craves the presence of established rule and rejects the kingdom of chaos he has created, or, as Sendak puts it, “And Max the king of all the wilds things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all… so he gave up being king of where the wild things are”. He returns to his boat, callously ignoring the cries of the animals he’s tamed, and sails back to the society of his home and the law of his mother. He arrives back to the exact same society and household he escaped from, whereupon “he found his supper waiting for him and it was still hot”, a discovery that clearly illustrates the volatile and arbitrary nature of the law, because though Max has not reformed his behavior in any way that his mother is aware of, his punishment is nonetheless revoked and he is rewarded. By the work’s close, Sendak’s character has essentially undergone the full process of socialization as a child toward adulthood in his understand of and eventual recognition of the law and all its confining mandates; he has gone from following his individual whims to conforming to the rules of a collective society. What’s more, he does this willingly and eagerly; he now “hungers” to belong.

Sendak’s story is the ultimate example of a child’s education in law and acts in itself as a model for educating other children as readers. It is widely understood that children’s stories are both pedagogical and normative, and that they would in fact lose significant value if they were not (Manderson, 91). It is widely acknowledged by society that the socialization of children in relation to law and all other matters occurs not just to facilitate the eventual inclusion of the young in society, but to keep them from disrupting society’s already-established order and function with their lack of understanding and natural inclination toward individual whim. Sendak concludes the book with a new Max, a person who has already begun retreating from childhood and who no longer desires to be a wild thing, let alone escape in search of them. The author proves that the impulse to reject law in favor of indulging in one’s own whims is no more than a passing phase before the slow trudge toward adulthood and acceptance of law, a stage of life no more practical than constantly “playing pretend”.

Works Cited

Brown, D.E. Human Universals. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1991.

From Hunger to Love: Myths of the Source, Interpretation, and Constitution of Law in
Children's Literature. Manderson, Desmond. Law and Literature, Vol. 15, No. 1
(Spring, 2003), pp. 87-141.

1 comment:

  1. I remember reading Where the Wild Things Are as a Child and being very saddened by two things. First, that Max was so cruel to the wild things in the way his mother was towards him. Second, that he just up and left the wild things when they were begging for him to stay. When my mother first read aloud Max's story, I was thrilled at his escaping his bedroom and traveling to a land where he could get dirty, climb trees, roll around in the dank fur of toothy beasts. I could never understand why he would be so cruel to those beasts who loved him so well, nor could I conceive why he would ever want to leave.

    These emotional traces lead me to two investigations. First, I would love to study how children and adults who have not previously been exposed to the work affectively react to Where the Wild Things Are. My hypothesis would be that the majority of children would condemn both Max's behavior towards the beasts and his abandonment of them. Also, the majority of adults would at least be contented by the peaceful resolution of the story (they would passively accept the unexplained compromise initiated solely by the authoritarian power structure - mother - as a suitable ending because they have been socialized to accept personally beneficial accommodations from the law without question). Even more extreme, they might praise Max's behavior in the land of the Wild Things. As a corollary, it would have to be assumed that the children who behave as I hypothesize the adults would must have been successfully socialized. It also follows necessarily that the adults who respond as I foresee the children responding must cling to their desire for freedom and explanation of the law inherent in children.

    Second, I wonder of Maurice Sendak wrote Wild Things as an inscribing narrative or as a satire.

    Miranda, I feel like you should use a similar lens to analyze Sendak's "Pierre (A Cautionary Tale)". You might be able to draw interesting conclusions by comparing the authoritarian parent of Wild Things with the Laissez-Faire parents and self-willed child in Pierre.

    Love your mind.

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