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I saw A Wrinkle in Time today. I enjoyed it a lot, and in fact cried basically the entire way through from the beauty of it. I’ve never loved the book, but it’s very important, and I teach it in one of my classes. While I have some criticisms of it, there were a couple of things I think are truly unique and fantastic about it— which, unfortunately, were basically adapted out of the story. Now, I totally understand. The book as written is NIGH UNADAPTABLE, if only because it’s SO internal much of the time. It had to be changed in order to work on the screen. But I was kind of sorry to see it changed into a different story than the one that I think makes it remarkable.
I subscribe to the interpretation that it is a story about a girl who has no exceptional gifts. By nature, she is not particularly beautiful, talented, or even smart. Maybe smarter than some, but not exceptionally so. She did not luck into anything that makes her more special than any other person. And I love this about her, because it makes her accomplishments ENTIRELY HER OWN. In the absence of any natural talents, everything she accomplishes is because she CHOOSES to try, and WORKS to do it. She is a hero, who saves not only her loved ones but the entire universe, not because of anything God-given that she came into by chance, but only because she puts in the effort to be brave and strong and loving. To me, that is glorious. The difference between an average person and a hero? Their choices. Their effort. Their commitment to love.
I understand why they didn’t go with that. In a film with the intention of empowering little girls and little black girls in particular to have good self-image and believe in themselves, it makes more sense to have a protagonist who simply doesn’t recognize her own abilities. The version they took is probably much more digestible to children, who would more easily understand “see the ways you’re special” than “the beauty of you is what you do in spite of not being special.” It’s a legit adaptational choice.
However, while Bernie keeps telling me according to his research that my interpretation is a bit fringe, I still think it’s the one most strongly supported by the text. I’ve heard people say that because we’re in Meg’s head, we only get the impression that she’s not good at anything because her self-image is so negative, and she’s an unreliable narrator. But I think we are indeed supposed to understand that she is not special. Why? Because she’s supposed to contrast specifically with Charles Wallace.
Charles Wallace’s exceptionalness in the film doesn’t contribute all that much, in my opinion. He’s a prodigiously intelligent little kid who’s slightly psychic as he was in the book, but it doesn’t serve much point in the movie except to allow him to exposit his understanding of the fantastical things that are happening— it gives him a connection to the Mrs. W’s that permits him to explain their purpose to the others. But in the book, it’s to set up one of the most beautiful subversions I’ve ever seen in literature.
The book is setting you up to think that Charles Wallace is going to do something amazing, given his abilities. In fact, when I first read it, I was annoyed because I was half-expecting it to be all about him, the Charles Wallace Show as Told By His Unspecial Sister. In the book, when they encounter IT, Charles Wallace’s abilities make him believe he is capable of taking the monster on, so he says “Stand back, let me handle this”— AND PROMPTLY GETS HIS BODY TAKEN OVER BY THE BAD GUY.
It’s fucking awesome. His specialness made him arrogant enough to toss himself into a situation he couldn’t manage, and got himself possessed. And then it’s up to MEG to save the day— who is freaked because if the superior-intellect, superior-talented Charles Wallace couldn’t take him on, how could she? IT dismisses her, in a way he does not dismiss Charles Wallace, because she couldn’t possibly have anything that could hurt IT, when she doesn’t even have what her brother has.
Now Meg has to save him, to fight the monster, even though she doesn’t know how. Because she’s the only one close enough to Charles Wallace to reach him. And she beats it not by being smart, by being talented, by being powerful— SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY OF THOSE THINGS, and the people who had more of them than her consistently failed —but by LOVING her brother powerfully enough. Something that anyone can do, if they make the right choice, but few people do because it’s hard. Meg doesn’t have a hero’s intellect or talents, but she loves heroically. I find that desperately beautiful.
The film did maintain that it was the power of her love for Charles Wallace that freed him. It was a good climax to the version of the story they were telling. But to be honest, I missed the context of the book’s final moment. When the little girl bravely strides into the lair of the beast without any idea of how to defeat it, but knowing she has to try. And the beast asks her, “What could you possibly believe you could do against me?” And the girl’s answer is “I have literally nothing— except that I was brave enough to face you, and the strength of my love.”
I subscribe to the interpretation that it is a story about a girl who has no exceptional gifts. By nature, she is not particularly beautiful, talented, or even smart. Maybe smarter than some, but not exceptionally so. She did not luck into anything that makes her more special than any other person. And I love this about her, because it makes her accomplishments ENTIRELY HER OWN. In the absence of any natural talents, everything she accomplishes is because she CHOOSES to try, and WORKS to do it. She is a hero, who saves not only her loved ones but the entire universe, not because of anything God-given that she came into by chance, but only because she puts in the effort to be brave and strong and loving. To me, that is glorious. The difference between an average person and a hero? Their choices. Their effort. Their commitment to love.
I understand why they didn’t go with that. In a film with the intention of empowering little girls and little black girls in particular to have good self-image and believe in themselves, it makes more sense to have a protagonist who simply doesn’t recognize her own abilities. The version they took is probably much more digestible to children, who would more easily understand “see the ways you’re special” than “the beauty of you is what you do in spite of not being special.” It’s a legit adaptational choice.
However, while Bernie keeps telling me according to his research that my interpretation is a bit fringe, I still think it’s the one most strongly supported by the text. I’ve heard people say that because we’re in Meg’s head, we only get the impression that she’s not good at anything because her self-image is so negative, and she’s an unreliable narrator. But I think we are indeed supposed to understand that she is not special. Why? Because she’s supposed to contrast specifically with Charles Wallace.
Charles Wallace’s exceptionalness in the film doesn’t contribute all that much, in my opinion. He’s a prodigiously intelligent little kid who’s slightly psychic as he was in the book, but it doesn’t serve much point in the movie except to allow him to exposit his understanding of the fantastical things that are happening— it gives him a connection to the Mrs. W’s that permits him to explain their purpose to the others. But in the book, it’s to set up one of the most beautiful subversions I’ve ever seen in literature.
The book is setting you up to think that Charles Wallace is going to do something amazing, given his abilities. In fact, when I first read it, I was annoyed because I was half-expecting it to be all about him, the Charles Wallace Show as Told By His Unspecial Sister. In the book, when they encounter IT, Charles Wallace’s abilities make him believe he is capable of taking the monster on, so he says “Stand back, let me handle this”— AND PROMPTLY GETS HIS BODY TAKEN OVER BY THE BAD GUY.
It’s fucking awesome. His specialness made him arrogant enough to toss himself into a situation he couldn’t manage, and got himself possessed. And then it’s up to MEG to save the day— who is freaked because if the superior-intellect, superior-talented Charles Wallace couldn’t take him on, how could she? IT dismisses her, in a way he does not dismiss Charles Wallace, because she couldn’t possibly have anything that could hurt IT, when she doesn’t even have what her brother has.
Now Meg has to save him, to fight the monster, even though she doesn’t know how. Because she’s the only one close enough to Charles Wallace to reach him. And she beats it not by being smart, by being talented, by being powerful— SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY OF THOSE THINGS, and the people who had more of them than her consistently failed —but by LOVING her brother powerfully enough. Something that anyone can do, if they make the right choice, but few people do because it’s hard. Meg doesn’t have a hero’s intellect or talents, but she loves heroically. I find that desperately beautiful.
The film did maintain that it was the power of her love for Charles Wallace that freed him. It was a good climax to the version of the story they were telling. But to be honest, I missed the context of the book’s final moment. When the little girl bravely strides into the lair of the beast without any idea of how to defeat it, but knowing she has to try. And the beast asks her, “What could you possibly believe you could do against me?” And the girl’s answer is “I have literally nothing— except that I was brave enough to face you, and the strength of my love.”