Ecurb
07-21-2014, 07:20 PM
Hero Shane
By Ecurb
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey: Catherine Morland pities writers of text books, most of whom “are laboring only for the torment of little boys and girls….”
“That Little boys and girls should be tormented,” said Henry, “is what no one at all acquainted with human nature in its civilized state can deny…..”
Hero Shane was a fictional character, although it was no mere coincidence that my son’s name is “Shane”. When Shane was young, I enjoyed both telling and reading stories to him. In fact, by the age of 4 or 5, Shane had heard the first half of every chapter of a great many classic novels: The Jungle Books, The Narnias, The Treasure Seekers, The Wind in the Willows, and many more. He inevitably fell asleep halfway through whichever chapter I was reading. This did not deter me. I plowed ahead without him.
My story telling was influenced by family tradition. My parents had six children, and, in a display of courage rivaling that of Horatio at the Bridge, used to take us on long driving and camping vacations. To pass the time in the car, my mother would tell us stories. As the older children aged (I was second oldest) we took over some of the story-telling responsibilities.
My older brother Mark invented the “Pesting Story”. The first example of the genre was a fantasy, in which children had other-worldly adventures. One of the characters was known only as “The Seven”, an age which coincided precisely with that of my younger brother Paul. In Paul’s first and second grade classes in school, all of the boys were required by custom to despise girls. Only Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes) was their rival in this prejudice. In fact, the worst calumny a boy in Paul’s class could offer toward another boy in the class was to call him a “Lover”, a word always uttered with a sneer of disgust, and pronounced "Lovah!".
Mark’s story began benignly. Some mild lampoons of Paul’s personality quirks were present from the start, as the alien hero “Nabor” led a group of children in their fight against the evil Morlocks (there were no copyright laws protecting such names against use in family stories told in the back seats of station wagons).
However, as our trip through Montana progressed, and boredom and irritation took hold, the story took a sinister turn. Shania, a girl from Paul’s class, appeared. Hints that Paul was secretly attracted to Shania began to make their way into the text. Slowly, as the plot built to its dramatic and violent conclusion, it became clear that Paul was madly in love with Shania. Indeed, when Shania was captured by the evil Morlocks, Paul was so desperate to save her that, as the story ended, he charged single handed into the blistering fire of their guns. I remember well the brilliant conclusion: “On Paul charged, heedless of personal danger. He knew he must save the beautiful Shania. The Morlock’s guns blazed. Paul was hit! Once! Twice! He was taking on lead, but still he came on, driven by his love.” Taking on lead! Great line!
We’ll fast forward a couple of decades. When Shane was three or four years old, I started telling him “Hero Shane” stories. Surely I would not be tempted to torment my own child with “Pesting Stories”! Perhaps not. However, stories, like little boys, have a way of growing in their own way, not always anticipated by their father or author.
All Hero Shane stories had the same basic plot. Hero Shane would be in the company of several adults and at least one slightly younger child, often Jasmine, our real-life next door neighbor.
....While Shane’s mom and Jasmine’s mom were cooking the hot dogs, little Jasmine wandered off toward the river. Swift flowed the whitened water of that torrent, but the naïve and youthful Jasmine was unaware of how dangerous it was. The heat of the day oppressed her, and she longed to bathe in the cool flood.
Hero Shane saw Jasmine step into the river. She began to lose her balance, the swift current tugging at her feet. The two moms were only 50 yards off, but they were too far away to save the child, who started to fall into the stream. Hero Shane knew that only he could help. He leapt instantly into action. Shouting to the mothers for help, he dashed to the river, and grabbed Jasmine’s hand just as she was pulled off her feet into the torrent.
“Hang on,” cried Hero Shane, and in one deft and powerful yank, pulled the endangered girl to safety.
“Oh, Shane,” cried Jasmine’s mother. “You are such a hero!”
“I’m so proud of you, Shane,” said Shane’s mom, and she gave Shane a big hug.
Then came the awful denouement to the story, which inevitably sent Shane into paroxysms of rage.
“You are such a hero, Hero Shane,” said Jasmine’s mom. “Since you saved my darling Jasmine’s life, I want to offer you a reward. I’m going to take you to Toys ‘R Us and you can pick out anything in the store, and I will buy it for you.”
“No thank you, Ma’am,” replied Hero Shane. “I couldn’t possibly accept a reward for merely doing my duty.”
It was here that Shane would always lose it. “No! No! I would TOO accept a reward! I would TOO accept a reward!”
The story, however, would continue.
“Oh, Hero Shane,” said Jasmine’s mom. “You needn’t be so polite and noble all the time. Please allow me to take you to Toys R Us, and buy you anything in the store you want.”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” said Hero Shane (who inevitably ‘sirred’ and ‘ma’amed’ all adults in the stories). “I appreciate the offer, but I must insist that I cannot possibly accept a reward. Knowing that I have done a service to my fellow humans is all the reward I could ever desire.”
This was too much for the real Shane to take. As much as he liked being the hero of his own life, ala David Copperfield, he was as greedy as most 3 and 4 year olds. “Stop it! Stop it!” he would cry. “I WOULD accept a reward! I WOULD accept a reward!”
Indeed, the real Shane (horrors!) sometimes physically attacked his own father, in an attempt to get him to alter the plot of the Hero Shane story. Even imaginary largesse was enough to make him lose control. How different he was from Hero Shane!
Shane liked Hero Shane stories (who wouldn’t like being a hero?), and, after several of them, he doubtless knew that he (the real Shane) had a dramatic role to play. Without the temper tantrums, the stories wouldn’t have been much fun. So his reaction was due in part to his unbridled greed, and in part to his awareness that it was an essential part of the story. He played his role with gusto.
By Ecurb
Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey: Catherine Morland pities writers of text books, most of whom “are laboring only for the torment of little boys and girls….”
“That Little boys and girls should be tormented,” said Henry, “is what no one at all acquainted with human nature in its civilized state can deny…..”
Hero Shane was a fictional character, although it was no mere coincidence that my son’s name is “Shane”. When Shane was young, I enjoyed both telling and reading stories to him. In fact, by the age of 4 or 5, Shane had heard the first half of every chapter of a great many classic novels: The Jungle Books, The Narnias, The Treasure Seekers, The Wind in the Willows, and many more. He inevitably fell asleep halfway through whichever chapter I was reading. This did not deter me. I plowed ahead without him.
My story telling was influenced by family tradition. My parents had six children, and, in a display of courage rivaling that of Horatio at the Bridge, used to take us on long driving and camping vacations. To pass the time in the car, my mother would tell us stories. As the older children aged (I was second oldest) we took over some of the story-telling responsibilities.
My older brother Mark invented the “Pesting Story”. The first example of the genre was a fantasy, in which children had other-worldly adventures. One of the characters was known only as “The Seven”, an age which coincided precisely with that of my younger brother Paul. In Paul’s first and second grade classes in school, all of the boys were required by custom to despise girls. Only Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbes) was their rival in this prejudice. In fact, the worst calumny a boy in Paul’s class could offer toward another boy in the class was to call him a “Lover”, a word always uttered with a sneer of disgust, and pronounced "Lovah!".
Mark’s story began benignly. Some mild lampoons of Paul’s personality quirks were present from the start, as the alien hero “Nabor” led a group of children in their fight against the evil Morlocks (there were no copyright laws protecting such names against use in family stories told in the back seats of station wagons).
However, as our trip through Montana progressed, and boredom and irritation took hold, the story took a sinister turn. Shania, a girl from Paul’s class, appeared. Hints that Paul was secretly attracted to Shania began to make their way into the text. Slowly, as the plot built to its dramatic and violent conclusion, it became clear that Paul was madly in love with Shania. Indeed, when Shania was captured by the evil Morlocks, Paul was so desperate to save her that, as the story ended, he charged single handed into the blistering fire of their guns. I remember well the brilliant conclusion: “On Paul charged, heedless of personal danger. He knew he must save the beautiful Shania. The Morlock’s guns blazed. Paul was hit! Once! Twice! He was taking on lead, but still he came on, driven by his love.” Taking on lead! Great line!
We’ll fast forward a couple of decades. When Shane was three or four years old, I started telling him “Hero Shane” stories. Surely I would not be tempted to torment my own child with “Pesting Stories”! Perhaps not. However, stories, like little boys, have a way of growing in their own way, not always anticipated by their father or author.
All Hero Shane stories had the same basic plot. Hero Shane would be in the company of several adults and at least one slightly younger child, often Jasmine, our real-life next door neighbor.
....While Shane’s mom and Jasmine’s mom were cooking the hot dogs, little Jasmine wandered off toward the river. Swift flowed the whitened water of that torrent, but the naïve and youthful Jasmine was unaware of how dangerous it was. The heat of the day oppressed her, and she longed to bathe in the cool flood.
Hero Shane saw Jasmine step into the river. She began to lose her balance, the swift current tugging at her feet. The two moms were only 50 yards off, but they were too far away to save the child, who started to fall into the stream. Hero Shane knew that only he could help. He leapt instantly into action. Shouting to the mothers for help, he dashed to the river, and grabbed Jasmine’s hand just as she was pulled off her feet into the torrent.
“Hang on,” cried Hero Shane, and in one deft and powerful yank, pulled the endangered girl to safety.
“Oh, Shane,” cried Jasmine’s mother. “You are such a hero!”
“I’m so proud of you, Shane,” said Shane’s mom, and she gave Shane a big hug.
Then came the awful denouement to the story, which inevitably sent Shane into paroxysms of rage.
“You are such a hero, Hero Shane,” said Jasmine’s mom. “Since you saved my darling Jasmine’s life, I want to offer you a reward. I’m going to take you to Toys ‘R Us and you can pick out anything in the store, and I will buy it for you.”
“No thank you, Ma’am,” replied Hero Shane. “I couldn’t possibly accept a reward for merely doing my duty.”
It was here that Shane would always lose it. “No! No! I would TOO accept a reward! I would TOO accept a reward!”
The story, however, would continue.
“Oh, Hero Shane,” said Jasmine’s mom. “You needn’t be so polite and noble all the time. Please allow me to take you to Toys R Us, and buy you anything in the store you want.”
“No, thank you, ma’am,” said Hero Shane (who inevitably ‘sirred’ and ‘ma’amed’ all adults in the stories). “I appreciate the offer, but I must insist that I cannot possibly accept a reward. Knowing that I have done a service to my fellow humans is all the reward I could ever desire.”
This was too much for the real Shane to take. As much as he liked being the hero of his own life, ala David Copperfield, he was as greedy as most 3 and 4 year olds. “Stop it! Stop it!” he would cry. “I WOULD accept a reward! I WOULD accept a reward!”
Indeed, the real Shane (horrors!) sometimes physically attacked his own father, in an attempt to get him to alter the plot of the Hero Shane story. Even imaginary largesse was enough to make him lose control. How different he was from Hero Shane!
Shane liked Hero Shane stories (who wouldn’t like being a hero?), and, after several of them, he doubtless knew that he (the real Shane) had a dramatic role to play. Without the temper tantrums, the stories wouldn’t have been much fun. So his reaction was due in part to his unbridled greed, and in part to his awareness that it was an essential part of the story. He played his role with gusto.