Monday , November 16, 2009
nogoodforme Superlatives: Favorite Fictional Crushes
Todd Sparrow in Girl
At first I wanted to put Han Solo as my favorite fictional crush because I basically just finished watching The Empire Strikes Back on cable and was all "OMG I totally FORGOT how much I looooovvvvveeeeeddddd Han Solo as a kid! SOLO! SOLO!" But then I realized that we're actually talking about crushes that exist in the imaginative literary realm, and I got kind of bummed out that I wouldn't have to opportunity to get all Han-rhapsodic on you. But that's okay, because now I can wax eloquent on the beauty that is imaginary rock boys and discourse upon what the Platonic ideal of such a dude should be. I can tell you for sure: it is NOT Sean Patrick Flannery, who played Todd Sparrow in the rather botched movie adaptation of the YA cult novel Girl that I wrote about ages ago. (You should probably read that link first and then come back here for a continuation.) Hollywood actors are pretty much the complete opposite of hot rock musicians, which is why cinematic attempts to portray Todd Sparrow will pretty much always fail and which is also why most actors are in bands that kind of suck. (Also: I'm talking about rock like ROCK, not like indie rock, which is basically so sexually neutered of a genre that my loins fall asleep at a Shins show.) Todd Sparrow is designed pretty much to embody the archetypal Dionysian rock dude, the main channel through which our main character discovers her libido and sexuality: he's possessed of instinctual wisdom, he's kind of gritty and ungroomed yet charismatic, he's totally unreliable, he's got a sexy, scratchy voice and he's great in bed. What's not to like, really? In the book, he's a tragic figure in the sense that he becomes consumed by the rock machine, sort of some lost angel half-asleep in the hell he's found himself in. But in a way he has served his purpose in Andrea's life, which was basically a gateway to a world outside of suburban confines and expectations. In a way, the best crushes of our lives do this: they allow us to dream of something larger than ourselves, to enlarge the sense of who we could be. Actually, now that I think about it, I always think most crushes are best left in the realm of the imagination, since their function is to entertain and embody our deepest longings. (Which is why Todd Sparrow is just SO WRONG in the movie. Witness this clip from Girl below.)
I mean, really...what self-respecting rock dude would have such nice highlights in his hair? Also: I really want a cow-print dress now. (Kat)
Zooey Glass of Franny and Zooey
Like John McEnroe, Zooey Glass is a sexy asshole. Unlike John McEnroe, Zooey Glass is a chill sexy asshole (John McEnroe, on the other hand, is an aggro sexy asshole, which makes him more tryst-material rather than the kind of dude you wouldn't mind sharing a toothbrush with). I definitely wouldn't mind sharing a toothbrush with Zooey Glass, who is probably a Scorpio, although my mouth-germs might gross him out.
Zooey, despite being a total asshole, is one hell of a CLASS ACT. He is also a genius, which is appreciated. As such, Zooey's asshole-ish-ness is generally confined to snide remarks and icy-cool banter; dude might hurt your feelings, but at least he'd be funny about it. He's also really hot, I hear. His sister Boo Boo describes him as "the blue-eyed Jewish-Irish Mohican scout who died in your arms at the roulette table at Monte Carlo." You know, that sounds really good to me.
Growing up, Buddy Glass was always the Glass Family-brother I most wanted to share a toothbrush with. He's a sweet teddybear of a dude, lives in a log cabin, and narrated Raise High the Roofbeam, Carpenters, my favorite book by JD Salinger as well as my second- or third-favourite book (I mean, novella) of all time. But, as I've grown older, I've realized that nice guys are boring, and manipulatively use their niceness against you in arguments. I need a sharp-nosed, sharkskin-trousered, Sazerac-drinking Jewish-Irish Mohican scout who'll snap back at me when I'm being a crab.
Also, it would be really hot to have a boyfriend named Zooey. "What's your boyfriend's name, Laura Jane?" people would ask. "Zooey," I'd say, "Et vous?" And then those losers would go on and on about their Mikes and Chrises and Daves, and I'd trot on over to my chill sexy asshole BF's place, and we'd stay up all night talking about how God is dead. (LJ)
l to r: Franny and Zooey; Seth Meyers/Viggo Mortensen/Michael Vartan- if you put 'em all together, you totes get Laura Jane's mental picture of Zooey Glass
Practically Every Lead Dude in Alice Hoffman's Early Novels
I read a lot of Alice Hoffman in high school; she's got this dreamy-trashy aesthetic that's total literary catnip for CLove-loving girls like me. This is what happens in a lot of her stories: Girl meets brooding, bad-news boy. Girl falls head-over-boots for boy; boy hotly and wickedly refuses to fall back. Girl wrecks life for boy but ultimately puts it back together, leaving now-broken-and-regretful boy in the dust. The end!
Last winter I re-read all three of my favorite Alice Hoffman books and they're still as catnippy as ever, even if my 30-year-old self finds the brooding/bad-news thing slightly less appealing than my 15-year-old self once did. Here's a little look at the torturously crushworthy love interest at the center of each story:
McKay from Property Of: Dude's so hot, all the girls "out on the Avenue" switchblade-carve his initials into their thighs. The story's set in the '70s (I think?), and McKay's the leader of an Outsiders-y gang called The Orphans (based in New York City, not Oklahoma). Wears "long dark hair" and motorcycle goggles (even when not riding a motorcycle), sips his whiskey from a crystal wine glass (SWOON). Then: turns junkie, kills a guy, ends up in Rikers (SIGH).
Silver from White Horses: Another leather-boot-wearing, chain-smoking, hot-to-trot criminal, only this one's in love with his little sister. The incest thing seems to eek a lotta readers out, but I think the story's really lovely in a high-drama sort of way. It also goes so perfectly with "Metal Heart" by Cat Power - the dark-and-dusty Moon Pix version, not that shiny Jukebox remake.
Andre from Illumination Night: Actually not a criminal, and not even 100 percent bad news. (When he cheats on his wife by doing it with the 16-year-old girl next door in a shed, he totally feels bad about it after.) Andre's a motorcycle mechanic who lives with his potter wife and little son on Martha's Vineyard; he doesn't say much but the tension between him and the neighbor-girl is pretty damn steamy. Plus, one of the lead characters is an honest-to-goodness giant, and the book's really fantastic for reading under the covers in midwinter while listening to WMVY online and pretending you're going to live in a dilapidated little cottage on Martha's Vineyard someday too. (Liz)
Tags: Alice Hoffman, Cat Power, Courtney Love, cow print dresses, Han Solo, Hollywood actors in bad bands, JD Salinger, John McEnroe, literary catnip, Martha's Vineyard, rock dudes, rock stars, Sazeracs, Scorpios, Todd Sparrow, Zooey Glass
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Posted by Kat in Superlatives |
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ewww, why is andrea such a bumbling loser?? and why is todd sparrow, like, 45??? i'm so happy i've never seen that movie.
By Liz
on December 2, 2008 9:32 PM
liz, NEVER see 'girl' the movie. as editorial director, i forbid it. it's just so dreadfully wrong.
xo k.
By kat on December 2, 2008 11:28 PM
oh my godddd that clip of Girl just traumatized me! i have to go re-read the book now to get that out of my head.
By M on December 3, 2008 11:42 AM