Men of Iron

Men of Iron is writer-illustrator Howard Pyle’s popular tale about the adventures of knights in shining armor. Originally published in 1891, it’s full of colorful detail about the 15th century English system of attaining knighthood, a lengthy and often bloody process. It also contains a romance. The hero, Myles Falworth, woos and eventually wins Lady Alice, a resident at the noble house where he spends many months going through squirehood to become a knight. A tale of knighthood just wouldn’t be the complete without a highborn lady to whom the hero can aspire. Flash forward to today, and there is “Iron Man,” the movie made from the comic book. Superheroes are modern knights. They follow an implicit code of honor that requires them to do good, and of course to rescue damsels in distress. And they have power beyond that of the ordinary man with which to accomplish their noble deeds. Spoilers ahead, but not big ones. I like movies in which things blow up. And I’m a longtime comics fan. So I went to see “Iron Man.” Lots of things blew up, which made me happy. But something else occurred that made me happier. Pepper Potts, the devoted secretary to Tony Stark, the billionaire industrialist, may or may not be secretly in love with him. And they do flirt once and almost kiss. But it goes no farther, and when Tony tries to build on it another day, Pepper shuts him down. This is so refreshing. In the comic books on which this movie was based, Pepper Potts has a very longstanding professional relationship with Tony Stark, but it does not move into romance right away. In fact, she first has a funny romance with the comical ex-boxer chauffeur, Happy Hogan. The movie was true to the character’s origin story in that respect. And it was true to the needs of romance, because there was a bit of wooing, but no bedding of the heroine. Yes, Tony Stark does have a cheap one-night stand with another woman, à la “Jerry Maguire.” He does have a playboy jerk reputation to uphold. Still, “Iron Man” was romantic, despite all the things blowing up (and crashing, and shattering, and so on). Romance is about the development of a relationship. In this movie, we see the beginning of one, and no more. We are left with something to look forward to. Contrast that with those old Batman movies in which sex is merely dessert after a first date. No romance. No development of a relationship. Very disappointing. A friend of mine said he was disappointed because in the almost-kiss scene Pepper is the one who moves in for the kiss. He felt it broke with the characterization. And he also believes that as two people who have forged a longtime work relationship, the sex issue would have been resolved long ago. I thought it was credible that Pepper could be confused fleetingly, and follow her instincts. Anyway, thank goodness, the scene ends without anything more happening. I got very ticked off at the Michael Keaton Batman movies in which women would appear and would immediately have sex with Bruce Wayne. It demeaned them. But then, those were mean-spirited movies. How else to explain the one in which women kept being thrown off buildings? Of course times have changed since Howard Pyle was writing about knighthood, and since it even existed as a system in one small country for a short period of time. Still, in various eras, knighthood in one form or another has captured people’s imagination. The Iron Man movie is yet another version of these traditional tales. And no tale of a knight in shining armor is complete without a ladylove to be wooed. I’m so glad that Pepper is there (in ridiculously high heels) upholding her part of the tradition.

Mother’s Day

It’s Mother’s Day. Restaurants are packed, because the very first thing on people’s minds is to relieve mothers of the classic burden of cooking for their families today. Yesterday and earlier this week, stores were packed with desperate shoppers trying to find a gift that in some way measures up to all their mothers have given to them. It can’t be done. Girls and women dream of romance and of having babies and having big, happy families. If all goes well, by bearing children they become a part of the historical stream of humanity that links us physically both to the ancient past and to the far future. Of all the celebrations throughout the year, some spiritual, some completely temporal, this day is special because it’s about endless love of the human variety. Women expect to love their babies. But when they actually meet them, they fall in love with them, which is a very different thing. And it is very necessary, because the demands of motherhood are tremendous. It is love, not duty, that gets mothers through it. I always dislike Mother’s Day greeting cards that start out talking about the mother, but end up talking about the child instead. It’s about your mother today, not you. Could you manage to say something about her? But of course it’s about this woman being your mother, not about her other life achievements. Thus we easily fall into the trap of celebrating our mothers by celebrating ourselves. I guess we’re trying to prove to her that all her hard work and sacrifice was worth it, because she created and nurtured a functional human being. But it’s hopeless to believe that taking her out to lunch once a year, or sending her a bouquet, will do that. My mother hated Mother’s Day and always refused to celebrate it. Full stop. She didn’t want cards, she didn’t want gifts, and she didn’t want flowers. She said and I quote, “You should be good to your mother every day of the year, not just on Mother’s Day.” She had lost her own mother to an epidemic at a very young age, and celebrating Mother’s Day initially just made her feel her lack of a mother. But later, when she was a mother herself, she believed that the job description was far too cannibalistic. Children should not eat up their mothers’ lives. Children should learn to be unselfish, to become part of a family that pulls together, instead of being lazy and demanding and making work and worry for their mothers. Guess which kind of child I was? Both, my mother insisted. And that’s the miracle of being a mother. You can see your children quite realistically, be annoyed by their youthful errors, and love them anyway. You always remember the first moment you met that baby, the total helplessness and purity of that child. And your own fierce determination to protect your baby from all the woes of life. It can’t be done, but as a mother you try. To the degree that you fail, you also have to acknowledge that life is not perfectible. You are not the perfect mother and your child is not the perfect child. But close. As a child, the embrace from your mother is the one embrace in the world that demands nothing and accepts all. It is both hope and tolerance. When we look for adult love, in part we are looking for that same kind of all-encompassing acceptance we found in our mother’s embrace. Sometimes, if we are lucky, we find it. Sometimes we don’t. For various reasons, some women don’t become mothers. And for some children, mothers are the treacherous enemy. It happens. Still, the impulses of motherhood can be replicated in situations that aren’t directly maternal, such as mentoring, or creating art, or any number of other achievements. But today we celebrate a classic womanly achievement. Since I do listen to my mother, I try to celebrate Mother’s Day every day. I hope you do, too.