This Is A Really Cool Picture My Sis Took Of Me In England Cosplay.

BIRTHDAY TOMORROW

TOMORROW? BIRTHDAY? IMPORTANT ONE! TOMORROW! SLIGHTLY TERRIFIED? BUT STILL, TOMORROW! ADULTHOOD??????? PLEASE SPARE ME???

REBLOGGING HERE BECAUSE ONE OF YOU CAUSED THIS SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL SEE IT. I'M DRAWING THE CHILD AS A CHILD?! ?!?!?!?!?!?!

SO I HAVEN’T EVEN GOTTEN TO WATCH THE SHOW BUT HERE’S PIDGE AS A YOUNG CHILD! I’VE LOVED PIDGE SINCE I WAS YOUNG WATCHING VOLTRON FORCE! NOW HERE’S MODERN PIDGE AND I LOVE THEM? A LOT?! LOOK AT THE CHILD.

Here's my sword and belt! I have on the quiver in middle one.

“I definitely didn’t want to root [Corpse Bride] in a specific place, and wasn’t really interested in what real ethnic origins of the tale were, because the thing that got me was the fable aspect of it”⁹.

Jewish legends are, well, legendary. They are filled with mystery, magic, fascinating creatures, wild adventures, and dazzling heroes. But if you ask most people, even most Jews, they may be largely unfamiliar with Jewish folktales outside of the Bible or Fiddler on the Roof. That is until you unravel the way in which Jewish folklore has been commodified and removed from its Jewish roots in order to be suitable for a non-Jewish audience.

This phenomenon is not new and not singular to Jews–not in the slightest. Cultural stories, and so much more, are routinely co-opted and commodified, erasing the culture, religion, and heritage of the original storytellers in order to make the story palatable for audiences outside of the original group. Sometimes so egregiously or viciously that it is largely unrecognizable to those who aren’t intimately familiar enough to spot it.

One such story is, allegedly, The Corpse Bride.

However, Tim Burton would convince you that the story he heard of (allegedly from within Lilith’s Cave) isn’t actually Jewish–in fact, he doesn't even know the origin. In their 2018 YouTube video, Jewish Erasure in Tim Burton Films, channel The Princess and the Scrivener plays a clip of Burton stating, “Joe had heard a little story, like a paragraph, which was an excerpt from an old fable–I don’t even know from what country it came, my recollection is that it didn’t have a specific place of origin. [I] Wasn't really interested in what the real ethnic origins of the tale were, because the thing that got me was the fable aspect of it”⁹.

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I decided I needed angst so here it is. It’s after the third partition of Poland when she still believed that Poland was dead.

—

{In shaky handwriting, a mix between Polish and Russian with a few tear spots on the paper}

Dear Pol,

I need you. I hurt so much. My head is so fuzzy. My hand is shaking, though you can probably tell from my handwriting. Oh my God- you know I don’t say that often. I just can’t think of anything better to say. Russia had me spend from dawn to noon shoveling the animal waste. Afterwards was moving these heavy things then cleaning then cooking dinner for everyone. After that I had to clean up the stables again. I can’t remember the last time I ate. I can’t get rid of the smell. Please. Please don’t be dead. I’m losing hope. My head is so fuzzy. I feel like I’m forgetting who I am. I feel like I’m becoming a mindless servant. Please. Please don’t be dead. I need you please don’t be dead.

Your wife,

Gabi

This is controversial I know, but as someone who loves learning new things and hates feeling stupid, I always err on the side of simple when I’m teaching people about history, particularly when I’m working with niche equipment or antiquated terms.

When you’re so enmeshed in a subject, it can be all too easy to forget that your knowledge and vocabulary is now different from everyone else’s. I go to a lot of reenactments where the people there are passionate about history, but don’t know how to teach it, or deal with museums where the curator rather than the educational staff writes labels. Far too often I’ve had to step in and explain a concept or word because someone else thought it was obvious so it wasn’t.

Just in the 18th century alone I’ve had explain when people were confused by someone using period appropriate, but confusing words such as:

“Stays” rather than corset

“Chocolate” rather than “hot chocolate”

“Petticoat” rather than “skirt”

“Shrewsbury cake” rather than “cookie”

“But Beggars!” you say, “it’s wrong to use modern terms for things when we know what they were actually called! They’re not the same!” Not if you explain yourself. You and I both know that stays and corsets are differently shaped, but to 99% of the population, it’s a support garment, and that’s what they need to know. I will generally use the appropriate term and then explain using more colloquial language. “I’m wearing stays - what we would today call a corset, although they’re differently shaped.” Making the person guess what you’re talking about is putting more mental strain on them and causing them to lose track of the discussion.

As a professional who still looks like a child, I know how awkward it can be when someone assumes that you have a negative level of knowledge, but I am always going to err on that side and then beef up my interpretation later, rather than starting at a master’s degree level, making someone feel stupid, and then having to backtrack. A good interpreter will be able to glean someone’s general level of knowledge very quickly.

Testing out makeup stuff for my next event! What do you guys think? Am I snek enough?

In Children's Lit. class:

Me: *suggests idea*

Them: *brushes it off as verbal shitposting*

Them: *suggests the same thing a few weeks later*

Them: *decides to go with it*

Me: I did that, it was my idea.

Them: ew why is she so caught up on that jeez we've all suggested stuff.

I was working on a history paper today and found a book from 1826 that seemed promising (though dull) for my topic, on an English Catholic family’s experience moving to France.

And it ended up not really being suitable for my purposes, as it goes. But part of the book is actually devoted to Kenelm, the author’s oldest son…and man, his dad loved him.

Kenelm seems to have had a fairly typical upbringing for a young English gentleman, although he is a bit slow to read. At twelve he’s sent to board at Stoneyhurst College—often the big step towards independence in a boy’s life, as he’ll most likely only see his parents sporadically from now on, and then leave for university.

When he’s sixteen, however, his father moves the whole family to France, so Kenelm gets pulled out of school to be with them again. Shortly after the move, his dad notices that he seems depressed. Kenelm confides in him that he’s been suffering from “scruples” for the last eighteen months—most likely what we’d now call an anxiety disorder.

And his dad is pissed—at the school, because apparently Kenelm had been seeking help there and received none, despite obviously struggling with mental health issues. So his dad takes it seriously. He sets him up to be counseled by a priest—there were no therapists back then—and doesn’t send him away to be boarded again, instead teaching him at home himself.

And his mental health does improve. His dad describes him as well-liked, gentle, pious, kind and eager to please others; at twenty he’s thinking about a career in diplomacy or going into the military—which his dad thinks he is not particularly suited for, considering his favorite pastimes are drawing and reading. He’s excited about his family’s upcoming move to Italy, and he’s been busy learning Italian and teaching it to his siblings.

Henry Kenelm Beste dies of typhus at twenty years, four months, and twenty-five days. That’s how his dad records it. That’s why his dad is telling this story. It’s not an extraordinary story—Kenelm’s story struck me because he sounds so…ordinary, like so many kids today. And he was so, so loved. His dad tried hard to help him compassionately with his mental health at a time where our current knowledge and support systems didn’t exist. You can feel how badly he wanted his son to be remembered and loved, to impress how dearly beloved he was to the people who knew him in life.

I hope he’d be glad to know someone is still thinking of Kenelm over 200 years later.

Anyway, that’s why I’m crying today.

DIIIISSSSSNNNEEEEYYYY

So I'm going to Disney on Wednesday. I may post pictures or videos for you guys but for the most part I will not be on I'm gonna try to get my Friday letter in but we'll see what happens. I will be mostly inactive from the 6th to the 11th though. Sorry, guys! This is my first time at Disney and I'm soooo excited!