Because everyone loves a good story
I was only there for a mini key lime pie.
“Hold on,” said the guy behind the counter. “There’s something else you need.”
“Oh, really?” I queried politely, ready to buy the pie and get out of the Farmer’s Market sooner than later. The day was hot, my baby was tired, and my family and I had a long drive home. Not picking up on my disinterest, he pressed on with his sales pitch.
“Have you tried our dark chocolate berry truffle cakes?” he asked. I hadn’t, and I didn’t intend to. I wanted lime and only lime. But as I glanced at said cakes, I saw a tantalizing display of gorgeous, spherical confections perfectly proportioned for two and liberally garnished with shaved chocolate and edible gold. I licked my lips subconsciously. Sensing my weakness, he launched into his description, and I knew immediately that I was sunk.
“First,” he said, “your fork slides through the firm yet delicate shell of dark chocolate ganache, sending shavings of chocolate cascading down onto the plate. Inside, you see layer upon layer of decadence: a succulent chocolate cake topped with a mixed berry reduction for a slightly tart twist that perfectly complements the richness of the cake. Surrounding these is a thick layer of whipped chocolate mousse, light as a feather and sweet as a kiss. Trust me,” he said, “I don’t even like chocolate, but I love these.” Despite the fact that he was sick in the head (who doesn’t like chocolate??), I shoved my money at him and demanded not only a mini key lime pie but also one of these magical orbs of chocolate delight, STAT.
The truffle cake suffered a tremendous melting on the way home, but I can assure you it was to die for nonetheless.
Food is a gift from God, and good food is God showing off.
Think about it: He didn’t have to make a world where we ran off of food. We could have been photosynthetic. Or we could have eaten only grass or carrion or algae. We could even be wind-up machines, running off of kinetic energy. But instead, we get to frolic through fields of flavor, and that makes my heart happy indeed. I’m no epicurean or foodie, but I do dearly love to eat all kinds of food. Maybe you can relate.
But have you ever considered how God gave humans the perfect setup to enjoy flavor? We alone possess the unique formula: ingredients + ingenuity = infinite options. Sure, the critters around us can acquire many of the ingredients we do, like fruit, herbs, sugar cane, and water, but when’s the last time you saw a dog combine these to make a refreshing sorbet? God has given humans both the ingredients and the wisdom to combine them with tools, transmogrifying them into entirely new substances. It makes me want to stand in the middle of a grocery store and yell, “ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES!”
One of the things that makes food so exciting is its diverse flavors, sensations, and textures. I really should write a whole post on food texture since it’s one of my quirks, but today I’ll just focus on four specific flavors: sweet, salty, sour, and satisfying.
I’m starting with sweet on purpose because, although I hate to play favorites, it’s my favorite. I want to say that savory is my favorite, but let’s be honest—at potlucks, I spend a disproportionate amount of time at the dessert table. Also, sweet is the sensation picked up by the very tip of the tongue, so it seems a fitting place to start.
One of my favorite sweet treats is fruit. I can splurge guilt-free on a bowl of berries, but I’d love them even if they were fattening. Some fruits are more than simply sweet—they’re exotic. Think of the mellow juiciness of a mango right off the tree or the powerful tang of a pineapple dripping with freshness. But my favorite fruity treat is a cold honeycrisp apple cut into tiny slices and dipped in the magical mixture of almond butter, raw honey, and Saigon cinnamon. The fresh, sweet/tart apple is the perfect spoon for the satisfying smoothness of the dip. It’s a match made in heaven.
But for manmade sweets, it’s hard to beat ice cream. Whether you like plain ol’ vanilla or Chocolate Peanut Butter Caramel Toffee Almond Coconut Cherry Mudslide Crunch, the enjoyment is the same. Cold and lickable, sweet and creamy, rich and satisfying, ice cream is one of my favorite treats all year long. And while I’m not picky, I am particular about certain things, so I enjoy it best either with a crispy waffle cone or else a tiny metal spoon. Tiny bites mean more time to savor.
As much as I love me some sweets, I also can’t resist salt. On its own, salt isn’t one of my favorite flavors, although chefs are able to taste and distinguish between different origins and qualities of salt. But since salt highlights flavor and adds gusto to so many dishes, I’ve come to enjoy it with almost any food. And since the salty sensation is registered around the edge of the whole tongue, it seems that we were made to enjoy it often.
Two of my favorite salty foods are cheeses and meats—all kinds of cheeses and meats. I drool just thinking about smoked ribs and crispy bacon, and don’t even get me started on tender steaks. Pungent cheeses like blue and feta are fabulous on steaks and crackers, while creamy cheeses like goat and brie are perfect with salted deli meats and pastries. One of my favorite salty snacks is thinly-sliced hard salami with smooth goat cheese and crispy herbed crackers. If I can add some ripe strawberries to the mix, I’ll be happy for hours.
Sour and bitter aren’t flavors that I naturally gravitate toward, but there are several exceptions. For example, I recently made a lemon grapefruit basil sorbet from scratch—I’d even grown the basil myself! The sorbet was sweet, tart, tangy, and totally refreshing on a hot day. Sour citrus is perfect for that.
Bitter can be a bad taste, as with burnt food, but it can also be a wonderful flavor. Coffee and dark chocolate are great examples of bitter done right. It took years, but I’ve finally acquired a taste for bold, black, French pressed coffee and any kind of dark chocolate. Now instead of tasting bitter to me, they taste smooth and rich. Our sour and bitter receptors can be found on the sides and back of the tongue, respectively, and if I’m giving that much lingual real estate to those flavors, it’s a good thing I learned to appreciate them.
When these flavors combine in just the right way, we get the last flavor: umami—the sensation of savory. Remember the dark chocolate berry truffle cake I was swindled into buying at the Farmer’s Market? When a bite combined sweet, rich, and tart at once, my umami receptors would explode into dances of delight. Umami is detected with the whole tongue instead of just the tip or the sides, so it’s complete joy for the whole mouth.
What a gift! What a privilege! It’s the favor of flavor!
Ps: If you want to dig deeper into a celebration of the art and science of cooking, you should check out Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat. It’s a book by Samin Nosrat and a Netflix documentary. I’m not usually into reading (or using) cookbooks, but this one’s really great!
Is it just me, or have you noticed a lot of social media attention (dare I say hype?) about introverts lately?
I mean, there are actual articles called, “The 19 ‘Extroverted’ Behaviors That Annoy Introverts the Most” and “53 Pictures Only Introverts Can Truly Appreciate.” Slogans like “Sorry, can’t talk. I talked to two people yesterday,” or “All I care about is food and avoiding people.” Memes that say, “I love my phone until someone actually calls me on it,” or “Whew, that was close. I almost had to socialize.” And these don’t even begin to scratch the surface of what’s out there. Guys, this introvert thing is huge!
So why write an article drawing attention to this bashful, unobtrusive people group? Why not leave them alone, as they seem to prefer? Because I have a feeling that, what with all these flagrant proclamations, they have the potential to shift not only our cultural awareness (which is fine) but our Christian culture as well (which may be problematic). Bear with me while I explain.
First, I want you to hear me loud and clear: I myself am an introvert. I can relate to all the funny (and melodramatic) memes featuring cozy, book-reading loners and socially-hesitant party-goers. I psyche myself up for phone calls and interactions. Sometimes (ok, usually) I make sure the coast is clear before venturing outside. You’re not surprised by this, I’m sure; after all, I’m a bookish blogger. I have introvert written all over me.
This is not a recent development for me either. In elementary, I would hole up and read two Babysitter Club books in one day. In high school, I asked for a keyboard, a guitar, and the complete works of Shakespeare as gifts. I never played a team sport, and while I had some good friends, I was certainly no social butterfly. In college I chose to study creative writing and music so I could be a singer/songwriter/novelist/hermit living alone in a cabin at the top of a mountain. Oh, sure, I planned to come down occasionally and wow the studios with a new repertoire of deep music and lyrics or to drop another brilliant, handwritten tome on the publisher’s desk, but then I’d retreat to my precious solitude once again.
Little did I know what my future would hold.
I didn’t make it past my sophomore year of college before God began steering me away from isolation (and delusion). He forcibly shifted my focus to an English Education degree, and—kicking and screaming—I changed my major accordingly. Then I accidentally moved to Texas and got a job as a high school teacher and play director (a long and wonderful story for another day) and so found myself surrounded by people all the livelong day long. But as an introvert doing extrovert things, I was stretched and stretched some more.
And then, after 11 years of teaching, God moved my husband and me up to Michigan where I found myself completely alone for the majority of the day. My family was too far to simply drop in, and I didn’t know a soul at church. Ah, solitude at long last.
And so, having gotten exactly what I’d been dreaming of for decades, I was finally happy, satisfied, and fulfilled. The end.
All right, you caught me; that’s not true, and that’s not the end. The truth is that, after finally achieving isolation, I knew that something was missing. It’s not that I craved friends or longed for interactions. (I had books, walks, and writing projects, after all.) But I realized that God must have taught me a very important lesson while I was in Texas because, even though I was happy, something felt off. I knew I wasn’t fulfilling one very important purpose for which God had made me, even though it wasn’t one that came naturally.
See, lately we introverts have made sure the world knows all about what we want via our social media soap boxes. But I have a truth bomb for those of us who are also trying to grow in the image of Christ: despite all the proclamations of our delicate needs and preferences, Christian introverts are not exempt from “one anothering.”
“Hey, wait! First of all, how dare you, and secondly, what is one anothering?”
So glad you asked. Obviously it’s a weird verb form of “one another,” but it’s used to refer to the “one another” commands in the New Testament—things like love one another, serve one another, be hospitable to one another…you get the picture. If the Bible had limited itself to things like “avoid one another,” introverts would be in the clear, but God tends to be pretty relational. That’s why I felt a gap in my soul when I was alone. It turns out that after God was through stretching me like taffy in Texas, my small heart had grown three sizes. God had knocked down some fences, scooched over my bookshelves, and made room for others.
And that, my friends, is a very good thing.
And the best part is that I didn’t do it myself—God did it to me. On my own, I’m just like C.S. Lewis during his reluctant conversion, “kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting [my] eyes in every direction for a chance of escape.” We aren’t sure where He’s taking us, but we’re positive it won’t be comfortable, and so we sink in our heels and balk like a stubborn old mule. But change us He will, because that’s His design for His children. Sure, it can be scary or painful and sometimes exhausting, but as with all sanctification, God is faithful to complete what he starts in us. He takes all the responsibility, and he gets all the glory.
God definitely deserves glory for changing my heart of stone to a heart of flesh, especially by giving me a loving, serving, extroverted husband to encourage me in one-anothering. Since I no longer work a job that puts me smack in the middle of a school and church, I technically have the option of connecting or retreating. But do you want to hear a miracle? Slowly but surely, I’m connecting! I’ve had dinner parties with friends, conversations with neighbors, lunch with church visitors, and deeper friendships with more people. And I’m not just trying to get points for altruism—it’s for my good, too! It’s almost like God’s plan is perfect or something.
So God is working in the heart of every believer in order to change us. Is He trying to make introverts more like extroverts or vice versa? No, He’s simply making us all more like Jesus. God has designed us differently on purpose, and we’re all “wonderfully made.” But we are also “his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” And it just so happens that many of those good works will involve other people.
Will it look the same for an introvert and an extrovert to practice “one-anothering”? Probably not. Introverts may meet in smaller groups, make more Tolkien references, and breathe into paper bags afterward, and that’s all right. But by God’s grace, we can all begin to “honor one another above [our]selves,” “serve one another in love,” “carry each other’s burdens,” “speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs,” “confess [our] sins to each other,” “offer hospitality to one another without grumbling,” and “use whatever gift [we have] received to serve others.” And above all, we can love and encourage one another. Since those two commands are repeated over and over, they must be pretty important.
Whether you’re an introvert or an extrovert, that list is pretty daunting, and it’s only a small sampling of what God asks of us. Feeling ready to wave the white flag and run for the hills? Don’t! The good news is that “God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him.” He promises to supply not only the ability but even the desire to obey? Praise God! What a relief.
So, my fellow introverts, take courage. Let’s start small and see what God does in us and through us. We can start by swapping out sentiments like, “A large group of people is called a ‘no thanks,’” for “A large group of people is called a ‘sanctification situation.’” Even if a large group, for you, is two people. And afterward, by all means let’s relax and recharge. But let’s do so with the intention of opening our hearts and our homes again and again, knowing that the over-planning and over-thinking is far outweighed by the reward for our obedience.
Sources:
Quote from Surprised by Joy: https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/681434-you-must-picture-me-alone-in-that-room-in-magdalen
Commands: http://storage.cloversites.com/wakarusamissionarychurch/documents/59one_another_scriptures.pdf
Article: https://www.challies.com/articles/one-another-the-bible-community/
Verse References in Order: Ps. 139:14, Eph. 2:10, Phil. 2:13, NLT, Romans 12:10, Galatians 5:13, Galatians 6:2, Ephesians 5:19, James 5:16, I Peter 4:9, I Peter 4:10
Shortcomings? In Star Wars?? Preposterous!
Yes, my friends, it’s true; even Star Wars has some room for improvement. Last time, I tried to write about the shortcomings of Episodes I-III but got carried away with what I liked instead. But today I promise to admit several aspects that rubbed me the wrong way in the prequel trilogy. Join me, won’t you?
Ok, you caught me—this is one more positive aspect of the prequels. (A whole post about negatives wouldn’t not be terrible, right?) Let me just say that, for all the things I don’t prefer about Episodes I-III, I can’t help but like them anyway, and I have a feeling that’s largely due to their stunning visuals. George Lucas really has been ahead of his time with technology from the beginning, and the prequel trilogy is solid proof of that.
While he was taking a break from directing for a few decades, he was busy with his other corporations like Industrial Lights and Magic, the company in charge of the visuals for Star Wars (and a massive host of other films). The development of computer generated images (CGI) even between Episodes I and III is amazing. While the grass battlefield in The Phantom Menace looks like the early days of video games, the broad scope of cities and skies in Revenge of the Sith looks spectacular.
Those developments took only six years, so consider how far the effects had come since Return of the Jedi in 1983! The last time we saw Yoda, he was a stiff puppet more akin to a Sesame Street character than a Jedi master. But the new Yoda is a boss! He’s slicing, dicing, and flipping around with his little light saber, challenging the Emperor himself. (Regardless, I still like the old Yoda better, even if his puppet mouth invites bad lip reading spoofs.)
But perhaps the crowning moment for Lucas’s CG is when we see Sir Christopher Lee zooming off on a tiny scooter. I mean, that alone is worth the price of admission.
Now, it would be easy to take cheap shots at these movies, but I don’t want to go that route. Instead, I’ll just make a few observations that struck me even from the first time I watched them. First, I must acknowledge a deep and abiding dislike of Jar Jar Binks. I know it’s nearly unanimous, but I had to say it. I can’t quite put my finger on why he bothers me so much, but it’s something like watching a clown bonk himself on the head and talk gibberish to get a laugh out of you, but you’re already an adult.
I don’t fault the voice actor; he was just following the script. And really, it’s hard to blame Lucas either. As a writer, sometimes things are just funnier in your head, and there’s no way to know how it will go over with a real audience. Regardless, I had to admit that I’m among the majority of fans who didn’t prefer the hapless little Gungan.
But does it surprise you that I also don’t care for Darth Maul? I know he’s supposed to be the ultimate villain in Episode I, but he has virtually no character development. We know next to nothing about him, he barely gets any lines, and we hardly see him until his duel with Qui-Gon. The best I can say for him is that he spends a lot of time on his makeup in the morning, and it shows.
Why on earth (or Naboo) is a mature, intelligent woman like Padme falling for a sassy, angry kid like Anakin?
Episode I gets a lot of flak for these and other reasons, but let’s talk about Episode II for a moment. My first impression after seeing it in the theater was the pendulum swing between flirting and fighting, flirting and fighting. And why on earth (or Naboo) is a mature, intelligent woman like Padme falling for a sassy, angry kid like Anakin? I mean, even Jar Jar would have been a better choice! At least he wasn’t brooding and violent. But hey, that’s just my opinion.
Aside from Jar Jar Binks, the most disliked aspect of the prequels may be Hayden Christensen’s acting. Next to the talent of Ewan McGregor, the poor kid can tend to look a little like a reanimated corpse. (I think it’s the glaring eyes and heavy lips.) Whether he’s flirting, yelling, or crying, most of his interpretation comes across like a junior high boy with a surplus of hormones. But seriously, what else could he do with some of those lines? And he was only 19 when Attack of the Clones was released, so let’s not be too hard on him.
For me personally, Episode I is the least enjoyable of the prequels. There’s Jar Jar, of course, and any lengthy racing scene can get a little tedious, but some of my aversion is also due to the pivotal role being given to a kid. No matter who he is, that’s a lot to ask from a child actor and an audience.Apparently, many people feel that Jake Lloyd, who played young Anakin in Episode I, gave a lackluster performance, and he seems to have taken the criticism pretty hard through the years.
But again, I think he deserves some slack. He was just a nine year old following the script and the directing. The story needed to include Anakin’s childhood, and so we find ourselves with Episode I. For good or for ill, it’s part of the series, so from now on I’ll try to focus on the positive aspects of The Phantom Menace. (Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon Jinn.)
No one would dispute that there are weaknesses in the prequel trilogy, and many a fan has vented very specific, thorough, and vehement criticisms of the films. If more of this you seek, look elsewhere you must. I want to end on a positive note.
Storywise, Lucas hit on some timeless truths in the first six films: the sins of the father often affect the son, great change can come from small resistance, and no one is past the possibility of redemption. I would even agree with the digression from fear to anger, hate, and then suffering. Where I disagree is when he seems to imply that the real catalyst of this downward spiral is love.
The prequel trilogy seems to display that the only thing to fear is love itself. Although the Jedi are encouraged to act on charity toward others, they are forbidden to have romantic attachments. When Anakin secretly breaks his vow of celibacy and brings about his own ruin, is his deception to blame? Seemingly, no. It’s because he loves Padme so much that he fears to lose her and would do anything to keep her. Although most of us wouldn’t go on a killing spree and dedicate ourselves to a Sith lord, we can probably relate to the crippling fear of losing loved ones. So what’s the solution?
It’s not, as Yoda advises, to let go of everything you fear to lose. To live a life without love can seem convenient and safe, but it’s not how we were designed. We were created in the image of God, to Whom the giving and sharing of love is integral. That doesn’t mean everyone has to marry; we can fulfill that design by loving friends, family, and those around us. But rather than letting love blind and destroy us, we must strive to love deeply and in healthy proportion to our love for a good God who isn’t struggling to hold evil at bay. Good will win, and love will remain; there is nothing to fear. That’s easier said than done, of course, but isn’t it a much better solution than monastic celibacy or dangerous, obsessive paranoia? I tend to think so.
Thanks for joining me in this lengthy discussion about Star Wars Episodes I-III! I’ve really enjoyed this series so far, and I hope you have too. I’ll be continuing to write about George Lucas throughout the summer, but I’ll sprinkle in other topics here and there for the sake of my non-geek friends. For now, it’s another happy landing.
Today’s Question: What bothered you most about the Episodes I-III?
Ah, Star Wars Episodes I-III. Considered canon but not unanimously considered classic (or even decent), these controversial films still warrant discussion. But even though this post is called “The Shortcomings,” you’ll only find good stuff in Part 1; I saved all the Negative Nancy (and a little more good stuff) for Part 2. Don’t forget to check it out! Despite its shortcomings, there are still plenty of great aspects for fans to celebrate in Episodes I-III, so let’s begin there, shall we?
Now, if you read my post about Episodes IV-VI, you already know my obsession with John Williams. I raved about my love for many of his themes in the original trilogy, and I had to stop short so it didn’t take over the whole article. So this time around, I’ll mention a mere two songs from Episodes I-III that deserve our awe.
A love theme for Anakin and Padme, “Across the Stars” is perfect. It begins in a wistful minor key as an oboe hauntingly spins the melody. Throughout the song, you can hear Anakin’s unsettled nature in the restless, foreboding strings undergirding the theme, and yet the harp delicately repeats the melody, suggesting the character and home of Padme, where “everything’s soft and smooth.” (Sorry, I had to.) These two aspects combine to form a tumultuous, triumphant theme that ends as it began: with a haunting, minor oboe foreshadowing a less-than-happy ending.
On a completely different note is the masterful “Duel of the Fates.” Written for the light saber battle between Qui-Gon Jinn and Darth Maul in Episode I, the song is—dare I say—epic. I know the use of “epic” as an adjective is passé, but I couldn’t think of another word to describe the urgent, weighty, life-and-death feeling that this song conveys. And talk about restless! The strings and brass are constantly repeating the same five staccato notes as the chorale chants the melody. Several surprising chords and key changes signify a sudden shift of fortunes in the battle, while the intense vocals are reminiscent of one of my favorite classical pieces, “O Fortuna,” which bemoans the fickle nature of fortune. Despite a false ending earlier in the song, the real ending crashes to a halt in a jerky, stop-and-go explosion of cymbals. Please, just listen to it; the song is awesome.
First off, let’s just talk about one of my favorite Episode I-III characters, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I love Ewan McGregor’s portrayal of this young Jedi. His interpretation was spot on, his lines felt natural, and he was often the comic relief foil for Anakin’s…Anakinness. I love the character’s growth from Qui-Gon’s Padawan to the Jedi master who trains Anakin to his friend, mentor, and brother to his brokenhearted adversary. Despite the stilted awkwardness of several other characters, Ewan McGregor helps me believe in Obi-Wan and, consequently, in the films themselves.
There are plenty of awesome smaller characters as well. One of my favorites is Dex from Dex’s Diner. This guy is such an accurate diner cook that I feel like I’d find him in the kitchen of any Waffle House in the country. Stubbly chin, filthy shirt, sagging potbelly, and plumber’s crack: all these details make him resonate with me. While this next one is a creature rather than a character, I love the iguana-dragon that Obi-Wan rides on when he’s searching for General Grievous in Episode III. Apparently there’s a name not only for the animal’s species but for the animal herself: she is Boga the Varactyl. (Maybe that needless bit of trivia will help you out on a game show one day.) I love her colors, her feathery head, and especially her call like an echoing seal. I want one!
And, finally, I do appreciate the portrayal of Anakin’s downward spiral. Although it’s sometimes clumsily executed, the rise, fall, and redemption of Anakin Skywalker is the whole point of the Star Wars saga, so Lucas covers some pretty important ground in Episodes I-III. We see him grow from a plucky, boastful slave boy to an arrogant, unstable teenager and finally to an angry, misguided young adult. His decline motivates his Vader-ness, but his origin justifies his ultimate redemption. I’ll say more on the acting in the next post, but the content of the films was necessary and helpful.
Partly due to their release dates and partly due to stylistic choices, the dialogue in Episodes IV-VI can feel kind of dated today, more like classic comic books than natural conversations. Episodes I-III still have this feel to them, but Lucas did modernize some of the verbal and situational humor. Personally, I enjoy the continued use of “I have a bad feeling about this,” especially as it’s Obi-Wan’s first line in Episode I. Some jokes get better with age, and I think this is one of them.
The prequels’ dialogue also contains some (almost heavy-handed) foreshadowing. When Padme and Anakin are attempting to flirt in Episode III, he tells her that she’s beautiful because he’s so in love with her. She asks, “So love has blinded you?” He says that’s not exactly what he meant, but she smilingly replies, “But it’s probably true.” Given the way he’s about to lose his ever-livin’ mind and slay all the younglings in a loving attempt to keep her from dying, I’d say this is foreshadowing. Even before this, she confesses her love to him in Episode II by saying, “I’ve been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life.” And just to keep up the trend, he practically kills her. Finally—the most tragically ironic of all—Obi-Wan remarks on Anakin’s impulsive behavior in Episode II by saying, “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me?” Ouch. Too soon, Lucas. Too soon.
“Hey, wait! The article’s over, and you didn’t mention any shortcomings!”
Yes, I know. I got carried away, and the article would have been far too long. I had to split it for both our sakes. While more to say about this I have, for the next post you must wait. Until then, may the Force be with you.
Today’s Question: Who is your favorite Episode I-III character?
Check out the next post here!
Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Past Watchful Dragons is going biweekly…at least for the summer.
That’s right—for now I’m scaling back on the number of posts I publish. It may be just for the summer, or it may be a long-term change; I’ll have to play it by ear this fall. While most of you probably won’t weep, wail, and gnash your teeth at this announcement, I’d still like to give you my reasons. But don’t worry; it’s nothing bad. In fact, the reasons are good!
WHY THE CHANGE?
It boils down to two main reasons: family and future.
Family first. While I write about personal thoughts on this blog, I don’t usually write about me. So you may or may not know that I had my first baby, Isaiah Emmanuel, on December 20, 2018. What a joy! What a game changer! What a handful! It turns out that babies require a good bit of time. Who knew? And while he’s been getting plenty of love and attention (believe you me, this kid is spoiled), I find myself a little stressed at times as I try to get a post ready. Enter, my hubby, the Superdad.
Seriously, I couldn’t have picked a better guy if I’d tried. This man supported me through a looong home birth, diapered and carried Isaiah for the first couple weeks while I was healing, woke up with me every time I fed the baby so that he could burp him for me (!!!), and has continued to be the most loving, supportive, encouraging husband and dad I could imagine. (Maybe I should have saved this post for Father’s day?) What I’m trying to say is, I’m blessed, and I know it.
So most of these posts are due, at least in part, to daddy entertaining the kid while I frantically type in another room. And sure, that’s fine, but I’d personally like to make sure I do everything I can to be a good mom and wife. If that means spending a little less time stressing about a self-imposed deadline and more time taking walks and enjoying time as a family, then that’s what I shall do.
Now, after all that, you may think this second reason seems a little ironic, but I’d like more time to write. J What I mean is, I dream of writing books someday, but I need time to read more, brainstorm better, and actually start writing. I hate to admit how long it takes me to finish some of these posts, but suffice it to say that it’s not an off-the-cuff hobby for me. I’m a slow writer, an overthinker, and an obsessive editor (despite my numerous mistakes), so cutting down on the number of posts will free up a good chunk of time. While I’ll definitely be using much of that time for family, I hope to dedicate some of it to the pursuit of publication as well.
As I wrap this up, I’d like to thank you for understanding. I hate feeling like I’m failing in a commitment, so I delayed this change for quite a while, but I know you won’t mind if your inbox is a little roomier in the coming months. Besides, most of my posts are long enough to split in half and read over the course of two weeks anyway, so let that be your plan if you miss me. J Thank you again, and I’ll see you in two weeks!
What do Tunisia, the California Redwoods, and the Hardangerjøkulen glacier in Norway have in common? Certainly not topography. Visually, they couldn’t be more different, which is exactly why George Lucas chose them as settings for each of his original Star Wars films.
That’s just one aspect of today’s discussion about the original Star Wars movies, one of my all-time-favorite trilogies. But while I love so much about them, the films aren’t flawless. That’s why we’ll be looking at what worked and what didn’t work, both in content and style. Plus, we have to talk about the music. We simply must. In fact, let’s start there.
I was 2 weeks old when Return of the Jedi hit theaters. My parents thought it would be a good idea to take their firstborn infant to see the conclusion to this cultural phenomenon on the big screen, and consequently my dad spent a good portion of the movie out in the lobby. I may have cried about some of the corny lines or maybe the death of that ewok, but I’ll tell you one thing: I sure wasn’t crying about the music. In fact, that must have been where my John Williams obsession began.
The man is a genius. Everything he touches turns to gold. I mean it! Have you ever considered what Star Wars would be like without John Williams as the score’s composer? I shudder to think of it. So how did George Lucas win the musician jackpot? He owes it all to Steven Spielberg. Spielberg had just finished working with Williams on the score for Jaws, and it was brilliant. At Spielberg’s suggestion, Lucas hired “Johnny” Williams to compose the music for Star Wars, and the rest is history.
While I could (and may) write a whole article just about the music of Star Wars, today I’ll have to settle for merely mentioning the supreme awesomeness of a few of the songs. Most iconically, there’s the Main Title theme at the beginning of the film as the yellow-toned story rolls into the distant stars. Even as you read that sentence, you’re hearing the song in your head. The variety of attitude within that song alone is brilliant. But then there’s the Imperial March. I mean, who else could have come up with such an unpredictable series of chords to yield that imposing, militaristic theme?
The Cantina Band song is pure fun—a jazzy little gem in the midst of classical orchestration. And I simply must acknowledge Han Solo and the Princess. The tension and beauty of the theme is a perfect encapsulation of their dynamic, and I may or may not (but definitely did) walk down the aisle to a string quartet version of this song. I wish I had time to talk about The Throne Room, Luke and Leia, Parade of the Ewoks, and so many more, but I’ll leave it alone for now. Just promise me you’ll give the scores a listen, and soon!
While there are so many groundbreaking aspects of Star Wars, the story isn’t completely new. That’s not a criticism; it’s a fact about Lucas’s strategy and success. As I mentioned last week, Lucas used Joseph Campbells The Hero with a Thousand Faces to organize his plot for A New Hope, and that’s part of what made it so great. And it may have seemed like an odd choice for him to begin such a sweeping tale by following the antics of two bumbling droids, but that was a tactic he learned from one of Kurosawa’s films in which the story is told from the perspective of two peasants. C-3PO and R2-D2 aren’t heroes or villains; they’re melodramatic and plucky (respectively), and their hapless plight gives us a reference point in the grand saga. As much as I’d like to be Princess Leia and you’d like to be Han Solo, let’s face it: we’d be one of the droids. And that’s all right.
But Lucas and his screenwriters can take full credit for the quotable lines throughout the films, especially those coming from Han Solo. I mean, you can’t do better than, “You could use a good kiss,” “Never tell me the odds,” “I have a bad feeling about this,” and, “Fly casual.” But my favorite line is from A New Hope when Han is dressed as a storm trooper and is trying to bluff his way through the ruckus in the detention block. “Everything’s perfectly all right now. We’re fine…we’re all fine here…now…thank you. How are you?” The acting, the timing, the expressions—it’s a home run.
While The Empire Strikes Back is the darkest of the trilogy, it’s the favorite of many fans. There’s great tension between Han and Leia, we get to meet Yoda, everyone loves a good training montage like we see in Dagoba, Han becomes a lovely piece of wall decor in Cloud City, and of course there is the big revelation of parentage. Visually, Lucas did a great job of choosing contrasting settings, not just for Empire but for all three films. Deserts, swamps, glaciers, forests, asteroids, stars…it’s a feast for the eyes.
But my personal favorite really is Return of the Jedi. I can’t put my finger on exactly what makes it the best to me, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the Ewoks and the forest of Endor. I’m a lover of big trees and small critters, so even though there’s mixed opinion about the Ewoks, I’m still a fan. But the film also features such wonders as the strangulation of Jaba, the revelation of Luke and Leia’s relationship, the growth of Han and Leia’s love, the faceoff between Luke and his father, and the ultimate redemption of Vader. Others might cite a certain metal bikini as an important aspect of this film, but I’m pretty neutral about that. I think she’s more attractive dressed as a bounty hunter threatening Jaba to save Han.
Those who were old enough not to cry through the theater release of these films will definitely remember the striking contrast between Star Wars’ audio/visual quality and, say, every movie before it. Sadly, I can’t fully appreciate that contrast because I grew up after other movies had begun incorporating similar effects. But by all accounts, Lucas’s use of new visual and audio technologies had thrust Star Wars into a league of its own. The sound effects painstakingly recorded and edited; the moving cameras to capture the perfect angle; and especially the ability to portray high-speed space chases, explosions, and battles were all passionately micromanaged by Lucas, the mother hen of all things technical.
But to a perfectionist like Lucas, even this was not good enough. As technology improved throughout the years (with much thanks to his own companies), Lucas went back and tampered with the original trilogies, sharpening the quality and—controversially—tweaking content. And thus began the fan criticism over things like the unfortunate musical number in Jaba’s palace and the infamous “Han shot first” argument.
Was Lucas right to go back and fix what had already been released successfully and loved unanimously? Should he have stopped after sharpening the A/V quality? Would he have done well to simply apply his new technologies to the prequel films instead of imposing them on the original classics? Well, it’s not my place to say, and I certainly won’t drop any hints about my true feelings. Those were just hypothetical questions.
There are, of course, some discrepancies between the original and the prequel trilogies. For example, when Obi-Wan seems not to recognize the droids, I’m surprised R2 didn’t zap him with his little lightning bolts. I mean, after all they’d been through together! Obi-Wan also says that Luke’s father had wanted him to have his old light saber, but last time Obi-Wan was with Anakin, the Jedi was slicing off his Padawan’s legs and leaving him to burn in lava. No sentimental handoff of family heirlooms there.
But here’s the thing: Lucas didn’t realize he’d be allowed to make more than one film out of his story, due to lack of funding and support. This, as he mentions in an interview, caused him to use up a lot of his good plot stuff in A New Hope. He killed Obi-Wan and blew up the Death Star. But is it just me, or does it seems like he was kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel for a crisis in Return of the Jedi? I mean, another Death Star? And with a similar weakness? At least he tried to up the ante (and the Ani?) by placing Vader and the Emperor on board.
Anyway, as I re-watched Episodes IV-VI to prepare for these articles, I took plenty of notes. (Leave it to me to turn fun into homework.) I noticed other small issues like some corny acting, the stilted dialogue between Vader and Obi-Wan during their duel, and Yoda’s strange shift of personality in Dagoba, but I don’t want to nitpick an otherwise fantastic trilogy. (We’ll save that for the prequels. …Juuust joking.) Instead, I want to celebrate the success of Lucas’s fabulous films while simply acknowledging a few weak areas. Besides, there are plenty of other geeks out there who list very specific issues, so there’s no need to rehash it.
For now, I’ll leave you with this thought: despite any problems with the films, the original Star Wars trilogy will always be one of the most influential, groundbreaking, and enjoyable sagas of all time. I heartily applaud Lucas for his vision, and so should you. Now go make some popcorn and start watching Episodes I-III so you’ll be ready for the next installment!
Today’s Question: Do you have a favorite quote from the original trilogy?
Sources:
https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/List_of_changes_in_Star_Wars_re-releases
https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/john-williams-and-star-wars/
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