As If Children Needed a Guide to Anarchy

http://www.care2.com/causes/5-subversive-childrens-books-that-everyone-should-read.html

Inspired by John Sevan and Jana Christy’s book, Kristina Chew recommends 5 subversive children’s books.

http://www.care2.com/causes/5-subversive-childrens-books-that-everyone-should-read.html

Number 5 is Greek mythology, and here’s what she has to say about it,  I hope she’s not recommending Zeus as a role model.

I’m not thinking of any one book about Greek mythology in particular but of specific ancient Greek texts with the myths. In their original form, these classics are full of violence (often of one family member to another — Oedipus kills his father) and sex (again, of one family member with another — Oedipus again, and numerous others including Zeus and Hera who are siblings and husband and wife).

All of this is presented (in the originals, that is), without moralizing or often without a message that “doing evil means evil will be done to you.” Far from the jolly, Santa Claus-like figure in Disney’s “Hercules” cartoon, Zeus (in the 8th-century poet Hesiod’s Theogony) castrates his father Chronos, who had swallowed Zeus’ mother, Metis, and all of his siblings (including Hera).  Greek myths are also steeped in powerful female figures including the goddess of wisdom, Athena, and Hercules (and, for that matter, Zeus) fall in love with as many young men as women.

Read more: http://www.care2.com/causes/5-subversive-childrens-books-that-everyone-should-read.html#ixzz2HuxaD0Yl

The Battered-Child Syndrome: 50 Years Later

Larry Wolff, who teaches history at NYU, has written an article for theHuffington Post about the landmark  1962 JAMA report on child abuse.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/larry-wolff/battered-child-syndrome_b_2406348.html

Historians suppose that child abuse, both physical abuse (battering) and sexual abuse, were at least as common in past centuries as they are today, but instances were rarely documented, because neither medical nor legal frameworks existed for identifying or discussing them. In fact, child abuse is not abuse unless defined as such, so there is always an element of anachronism in applying the term to the maltreatment of children before 1962, while even today the standard for what constitutes abuse varies widely from culture to culture. I have just written a book about a case that occurred in Venice in the 18th century, when a 60-year-old man was accused of having sex with an 8-year-old girl; he was charged merely with “causing a scandal,” as there was no other plausible criminal charge on the books, and made to pay a fine to the girl’s family. In a notable case in 19th-century New York, the battering of a child could only be prosecuted with reference to the advocacy of the ASPCA and its mandate against cruelty to animals. The publication of the “The Battered-Child Syndrome,” however, offered clinical evidence that child abuse was happening all around us all the time, and began to make us all aware of the huge dimensions of this hitherto-submerged syndrome of shocking but quotidian and recurrent human tragedies.

Below a link to an electronic version of the article in the Journal of the American Medical Association:

http://jama.jamanetwork.com/article.aspx?articleid=327895

And here is its (for the time) daring declaration about a physician’s duty to report certain types of injuries to authorities:

The battered-child syndrome, a clinical condition in young children who have received serious physical abuse, is a frequent cause of permanent injury or death. The syndrome should be considered in any child exhibiting evidence of fracture of any bone, subdural hematoma, failure to thrive, soft tissue swellings or skin bruising, in any child who dies suddenly, or where the degree and type of injury is at variance with the history given regarding the occurrence of the trauma. Psychiatric factors are probably of prime importance in the pathogenesis of the disorder, but knowledge of these factors is limited. Physicians have a duty and responsibility to the child to require a full evaluation of the problem and to guarantee that no expected repetition of trauma will be permitted to occur.

Read Larry Wolff’s case study of how the eighteenth-century handled cases of sexual abuse: Paolina’s Innocence: Child Abuse in Casanova’s Venice.

In the summer of 1785, in the city of Venice, a wealthy 60-year-old man was arrested and accused of a scandalous offense: having sexual relations with the 8-year-old daughter of an impoverished laundress. Although the sexual abuse of children was probably not uncommon in early modern Europe, it is largely undocumented, and the concept of “child abuse” did not yet exist. The case of Paolina Lozaro and Gaetano Franceschini came before Venice’s unusual blasphemy tribunal, the Bestemmia, which heard testimony from an entire neighborhood—from the parish priest to the madam of the local brothel.

Paolina’s Innocence considers Franceschini’s conduct in the context of the libertinism of Casanova and also employs other prominent contemporaries—Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Carlo Goldoni, Lorenzo Da Ponte, Cesare Beccaria, and the Marquis de Sade—as points of reference for understanding the case and broader issues of libertinism, sexual crime, childhood, and child abuse in the 18th century.

Wonder in the New Year

If you saw the Les Miserables film, you will know that Gavroche play a far more prominent role in it than in the musical.  The child martyr becomes, like Little Nell and Little Eva, the redeemer of adult sinners.  And, of course, all the children raised by the evil Thénardiers–in the book Gavroche, Eponine, and Cosette–are heroic figures.  Tis the season to think about how we use children to restore our damaged moral sense and our capacity to wonder.  I was therefore all the more glad to discover Kevin Lee’s video essay on the Spielberg face, a subject that has always fascinated me.  Be sure to scroll down after clicking on the link below to watch the deeply impressive video.

http://www.fandor.com/blog/essential-viewing-the-spielberg-face

If there is one recurring image that defines the cinema of Steven Spielberg, it is The Spielberg Face. Eyes open, staring in wordless wonder in a moment where time stands still. But above all, a child-like surrender in the act of watching, both theirs and ours.  It’s as if their total submission to what they are seeing mirrors our own.

The face tells us that a monumental event is happening; in doing so, it also tells us how we should feel. If Spielberg deserves to be called a master of audience manipulation, then this is his signature stroke. You can’t think of the most iconic moments in Spielberg’s cinema without The Spielberg Face.