Mouse Was Mad by Linda Urban
Comparing Linda Urban’s Mouse Was Mad To James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
While not similar in achievement or merit, the children’s picture book Mouse Was Mad does bear a striking resemblance to the classic Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Each book gives a journey of its protagonist from simple id to a creative being knowledgeable of both self and his environment.
You are actually reading this?
Both the Mouse and the Artist start off in states of pure id, one mad and the other a baby. The simple actions and language give voice to the protagonist, yet it is a voice he does not understand. By expressing himself, he only draws the attention of those around him, often disappointed as he attempts to mimic.
You must be some kind of masochist. Please get help.
A cycle of achievement, failure and learning begins to plague both characters. The Artist goes through a series of missteps wherein at first he thinks he is excelling, yet then learns others are looking down on him. The Mouse suffers the same mistake, each time attempting a new medium of expression only to be dumped in a puddle by its master.
All the way to here, huh? Okay. Your boring-ass funeral, pal.
At the end, both the Mouse and the Artist find that their true expression is to simply be. The mouse stands still, at the same time attracting, confusing and causing imitation by his contemporaries. The Artist does... something, I forget what but I am sure it is like that, being an artist and finding solace in something.
Whatever.
Go outside, there are better things to do than read this drivel. If you are reading this at work, quit your job. It obviously means very little if you are reading this instead of doing whatever you are supposed to be doing. Hell, why am I still here? I have better things to do. I just got Mr. Show: The Complete Collection
on DVD. Could be watching that. Am I? Nope, doing this for the 24th straight day in a row. That’s right, 24. I did reviews of letters of the alphabet I made up just so I could review things on Sunday. Then, I did not post them because I could not find books to review based on my made up letters because I made them up. Irony, your name is irony. I wonder if it’s legal to name a baby “irony.” Or “ironic.” What’s your kid’s name?, they’d ask. That’s Ironic, I’d say. Silly me.
Each day in the month of April 2012 (starting the first Sunday, then excluding every other Sunday) we will blog using the alphabet as our guide. I will link each post to the letter and you can find them all on this page. If you want to keep up with the challenge for my fellow bloggers, check out the A to Z Challenge Page.
Comparing Linda Urban’s Mouse Was Mad To James Joyce’s Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
While not similar in achievement or merit, the children’s picture book Mouse Was Mad does bear a striking resemblance to the classic Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Each book gives a journey of its protagonist from simple id to a creative being knowledgeable of both self and his environment.
You are actually reading this?
Both the Mouse and the Artist start off in states of pure id, one mad and the other a baby. The simple actions and language give voice to the protagonist, yet it is a voice he does not understand. By expressing himself, he only draws the attention of those around him, often disappointed as he attempts to mimic.
You must be some kind of masochist. Please get help.
A cycle of achievement, failure and learning begins to plague both characters. The Artist goes through a series of missteps wherein at first he thinks he is excelling, yet then learns others are looking down on him. The Mouse suffers the same mistake, each time attempting a new medium of expression only to be dumped in a puddle by its master.
All the way to here, huh? Okay. Your boring-ass funeral, pal.
At the end, both the Mouse and the Artist find that their true expression is to simply be. The mouse stands still, at the same time attracting, confusing and causing imitation by his contemporaries. The Artist does... something, I forget what but I am sure it is like that, being an artist and finding solace in something.
Whatever.
Go outside, there are better things to do than read this drivel. If you are reading this at work, quit your job. It obviously means very little if you are reading this instead of doing whatever you are supposed to be doing. Hell, why am I still here? I have better things to do. I just got Mr. Show: The Complete Collection
on DVD. Could be watching that. Am I? Nope, doing this for the 24th straight day in a row. That’s right, 24. I did reviews of letters of the alphabet I made up just so I could review things on Sunday. Then, I did not post them because I could not find books to review based on my made up letters because I made them up. Irony, your name is irony. I wonder if it’s legal to name a baby “irony.” Or “ironic.” What’s your kid’s name?, they’d ask. That’s Ironic, I’d say. Silly me.Each day in the month of April 2012 (starting the first Sunday, then excluding every other Sunday) we will blog using the alphabet as our guide. I will link each post to the letter and you can find them all on this page. If you want to keep up with the challenge for my fellow bloggers, check out the A to Z Challenge Page.
