You, and me, and the damned Lorax. (1219 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: crap:non-fiction
Rating: 2 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Circe <feral_pet.at.yahoo.com> (View user info) at 2004-04-26 12:10:21 EDT
'At the far end of town
where the Grickle-grass grows
and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows
and no birds ever sing excepting old crows...
is the street of the Lifted Lorax.'
We fought today, you and I. Over something stupid, and trivial, but which at the time seemed incredibly important. You're too much like me. The set of your jaw when you're challenged, the cool insolence in your eyes when you know you can't win, but you're damn sure not going to lose - those are mine. I'm condemned to stupid, head-butting fights with a six year old because of my own genes.
You slammed doors, and threw things, and tried to deafen me with your screaming. I, in turn, tried to flood you with words, calm and calculated, each one designed to stop you and make you think. I can do this, you see. I'm good with words. I can talk most adults out of a tree. You are somehow resistant.
'On the end of a rope
he lets down a tin pail
and you have to toss in fifteen pence
and a nail
and the shell of a great-great-great-
grandfather snail.'
Dinner was eaten in a cold, pregnant silence. I had run out of words, and you were exhausted by the excesses of your fury. I ran your bath, laid out your pyjamas, all in silence. We had no idea what to say to each other that wouldn't set off the sparks that still threatened. When we fight, it's epic. It's the stuff of legends. We cannot calm each other, any more than fire and granite can cancel each other out.
'And I first saw the trees!
The Truffula Trees!
The bright-coloured tufts of the Truffula Trees!
Mile after mile in the fresh morning breeze.'
When you were born... oh, when you were born... when I first held you, and spoke those immortal words of love and devotion - 'What's wrong with its head? Can you like.. take it away.. and clean it first?' - you claimed my heart as your own. You have owned me since the day we met, and your life has given meaning to mine. I don't understand how you can get so ANGRY at me.
I don't understand how I can get so angry at you.
'In no time at all, I had built a small shop.
Then I chopped down a Truffula Tree with one chop.
And with great skillful skill and with great speedy speed,
I took the soft tuft. And I knitted a Thneed!'
When you came to me after your bath, and held out this book, I was surprised. Dr. Suess, with his rock solid rhymes, and perfect cadence, and delicious nonsense words, was outgrown a while ago. We have moved on to fairy tales, myths, anything that takes your fancy. This book has been relegated to the twins' room, where I read it to them, as I read it to you. I take the book, still in that awful confused thundercloud silence, and follow you to your room. Blue sheets, sea animals on the quilt. I know you like the ocean. The look on your face when you saw this room was priceless. I can, sometimes, make you happy.
I read the first two pages on autopilot. This is so familiar, so well read, that the book itself is a formality. We can recite this by heart. We have done, on long car rides.
On the third page, you chime in. At first, you keep pace with me. It's easy to do - these words are solid. The rhythm is always perfect, the words slotting in one after another with the pace and timing of a well-rehearsed dance.
'"Mister!" he said with a sawdusty sneeze,
"I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees.
I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues.
And I'm asking you, Sir, at the top of my lungs" -
he was very upset as he shouted and puffed -
"What's that THING you've made out of my Truffula Tuft?"'
Then it changes. I keep reading in the same steady rhythm, while you speed up to race ahead and slow down to fall behind. Your voice wraps around mine, circling it, darting in front and coming back to rejoin it. I am the baseline, and you're the melody. You play with the words, twist them, change them, but always come back to that reliable steady beat of my voice. The rhythm, the perfection, never falters.
For forty or so pages, you play this game. Your voice lifts playfully, your words are a light ripple that sometimes obscures the beat but can never hide it completely. I take such delight in the way you do this, in the way you circle, chase, lead, but always, always come back.
'Now all that was left 'neath the bad-smelling sky
was my big empty factory...
the Lorax...
and I.'
The last page is read with the same slow solemnity with which I always read it. You match me perfectly, your tones and inflections just like mine, the deliberately hushed recitation identical. This is the important page, the message, and as such, deserves respect.
'"SO...
Catch!" says the Once-ler.
He lets something fall.
"It's a Truffula Seed.
It's the last one of all!
You're in charge of the last of the Truffula Seeds.
And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.
Plant a new Truffula. Treat it with care.
Give it clean water. And feed it fesh air.
Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax
and all of his friends
may come back."'
We are silent for a moment after I close the book. Somehow, you have ended up leaning against me, small and pliant and warm. I hear you sigh. 'I'm sorry I slammed the door and yelled at you.' I'm quiet for a moment as I stroke your hair. 'Yeah. I know.' You snuggle into me, and the trust inherent in the gesture is touching. I speak again. 'I'm sorry I dropped your dinner on the floor and fed it to you anyway.' I know you can hear the smile in my voice, just as I can hear one in yours when you reply. 'No, you didn't.' 'No, I didn't,' I agree, and kiss the top of your blonde head. Not my hair, and your brown eyes aren't mine either. But there is more of me in you than appearances would indicate.
'Sleep now.'
'Yeah.... love you.'
'Love you back.'
I turn off your light and leave you to your sleep. You came back in the end, as you always do. Perhaps not as you always will. I can't predict the future.
But for now, it's enough, and more than enough. It's everything.
---------------
(All excerpts taken from 'The Lorax', by Dr Suess)
User Reviews
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-04-18 07:32:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This is what I have with my mother, and the fear of not having it with my children is part of the reason I'm not planning to procreate.
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2006-12-10 13:16:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It's not relevent to the post, but I just noticed tht your e-mail changes in your handle from feral_pet to fickle_muse... I'm attributing this to you having some job involving beastality, and losing that job, thus needing a new e-mail.
I'm smart like that.
Submitted by ruthless (user info) at 2005-05-27 14:37:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I wish my stepson was mine.
This makes me wish that even more.
Submitted by FilthyAssistant (user info) at 2004-10-30 19:57:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
In the interests of getting something decent onto the MRR.
Submitted by lojope (user info) at 2004-05-21 21:43:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hehe! I am so glad this got refreshed! I read it again and it was just as lovely! Another +2 for you!
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-05-21 21:33:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good stuff
Submitted by Scott_James (user info) at 2004-04-27 01:06:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2004-04-26 19:49:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2004-04-26 19:34:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Dufflady (user info) at 2004-04-26 15:26:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If there was a rating higher than this, you would get it. Your writing style is excellent.
As a parent, I understand every emotion you expressed here and the joy of reading books is the best hobby you can share with your children.
Submitted by davidarnaud (user info) at 2004-04-26 14:58:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
nice
Submitted by SausageKing (user info) at 2004-04-26 13:21:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent
Submitted by shark25 (user info) at 2004-04-26 13:10:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was the best.
Submitted by Ainkara (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:51:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh damn that was good
Submitted by SpikeGoddess (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:51:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I am worshipping you right now. This is amazing. I did this to my mother when I was little, and if I ever have children, they will do the same to me. I don't know what to say. This was perfect.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:49:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks, lojope. Sincerely.
Coyote - they're pretty 'dear god, what is that THING?', all right. But cute, once they're washed.
Submitted by dohnuts (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:31:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Kicker of all ass... There you go.
Submitted by lojope (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:28:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Truly beautiful. I am crying right now. That may be the best post I ever read. I wish I could hug you right now.
Submitted by DraconianKing (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:26:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 because I love that story so much! GRICKLE GRASS FEELS GOOD ON MY ASS!
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:25:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Maybe I'm just a sentimental parent type, but "take it away and clean it first" is perhaps the clearest expression of the feeling of being a new parent that I've yet read. Quite apart from that... really honest and touching.
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2004-04-26 12:13:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was wonderful.