Did we really need to see Peter Pan calling Tinkerbell a "slut"?

Reviewed: Peter Pan by Régis Loisel.

Peter Pan
Loisel
Soaring Penguin Press, £29.99

Despite being over-ripe with themes worth exploring, uncovering or twisting, Peter Pan has never really been subject to the same sort of re-imaginings that stories falling alongside it in the childhood canon have been. Pinocchio has become a killer puppet, the Little Mermaid is a littler goldfish, Grimms' Fairy Tales get grimmer with each remaining, and Peter Pan has little more than the godawful Hook.

It's not like there isn't a host of material to build on. The obsession with mothers, with never growing up, with love triangles between fairies and princesses; it's a psychosexual goldmine, ready for subversion.

Of course, part of the reason why is the unusual copyright status of the character. Donated by J.M. Barrie to Great Ormond Street Hospital, Peter Pan entered the public domain in 1987, but a special government bill gave a perpetual extension of some of the rights: the hospital will always be entitled to receive royalties for any adaptation of the play.

That's led to some artists taking the back route to a critical commentary, the most notable being Alan Moore, whose book Lost Girls depicts the pornographic adventures of Wendy Darling, Alice Liddell and Dorothy Gale (from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz). Wendy's story contains a magic-free telling of Peter's tale, with him and his sister Anna(tinker)bel recast as homeless children in Kensington Gardens; Captain Hook recruits Peter into prostitution and rapes Annabel. It's a take, of sorts; but it'd be stretching it somewhat to say it's just bringing out material implicit in the play.

Régis Loisel's six-volume Peter Pan takes a more direct approach. Starting with young Peter's life in Victorian London, it ends with him and the lost boys in Never-Never Land. Along the way, nearly every possible box is ticked: we find out why he took the name "Pan", learn how Captain Hook lost his hand, learn why the crocodile ticks, where Tinkerbell's name came from, why Tiger Lily loves Peter, who the lost boys are, who can fly and who can't… The whole effect is one of a piling-up of reference after reference, with little of the book existing for any other reason than it takes us to where J.M. Barrie's story begins.

The major exception is even odder. Starting around half-way through, the London scenes introduce Jack the Ripper as a character; Peter's mother is his first victim. Quite aside from the fact that the historical synchronicity isn't quite as spot-on as Loisel suggests – the Ripper murders occurring sixteen years before the first performance of Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up, although for a character who doesn't age that's less of an issue than it might otherwise be – the whole thing feels utterly unnecessary. It comes out of nowhere, barely interacts with the main plot, and although the deaths illustrate why London is a city Peter might want to leave, the lengthy detour into Ripperology (this Jack is a doctor acting during psychotic breaks, apparently) is just odd.

"Unnecessary" describes a lot of the book, in fact. Did we really need to see Peter calling Tinkerbell a "slut" after she stops him talking to his friends? Or hear Hook utter the strange non-idiom "you're pulling my cock again, with your stories"? Or a full explanation of why the crocodile ticks?

It would be perfectly possible to create a prequel to Peter Pan which justified its own existence. The world of Neverland lends itself perfectly to a sort of boys-own adventure tale, of pirates and indians and exploration and heroism, because that's what it is. Of course, any prequel would be subverted by the play itself showing that there's more to life, even for an adventurous boy, than having lots of fun all the time, but that could be worked with. Instead, we have the equivalent of Before Watchmen or the Star Wars prequels; and as with those, its hard to argue we're really better-off for it.

An illustrated Tinkerbell, from Régis Loisel's six-volume Peter Pan.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

Drew Angerer/Getty Images
Show Hide image

Donald Trump wants to terminate the Environmental Protection Agency - can he?

"Epa, Epa, Eeeepaaaaa" – Grampa Simpson.

 

There have been countless jokes about US President Donald Trump’s aversion to academic work, with many comparing him to an infant. The Daily Show created a browser extension aptly named “Make Trump Tweets Eight Again” that converts the font of Potus’ tweets to crayon scrawlings. Indeed, it is absurd that – even without the childish font – one particular bill that was introduced within the first month of Trump taking office looked just as puerile. Proposed by Matt Gaetz, a Republican who had been in Congress for barely a month, “H.R. 861” was only one sentence long:

“The Environmental Protection Agency shall terminate on December 31, 2018”.

If this seems like a stunt, that is because Gaetz is unlikely to actually achieve his stated aim. Drafting such a short bill without any co-sponsors – and leaving it to a novice Congressman to present – is hardly the best strategy to ensure a bill will pass. 

Still, Republicans' distrust for environmental protections is well-known - long-running cartoon show The Simpsons even did a send up of the Epa where the agency had its own private army. So what else makes H.R. 861 implausible?

Well, the 10-word-long statement neglects to address the fact that many federal environmental laws assume the existence of or defer to the Epa. In the event that the Epa was abolished, all of these laws – from the 1946 Atomic Energy Act to the 2016 Frank R. Lautenberg Chemical Safety for the 21st Century Act – would need to be amended. Preferably, a way of doing this would be included in the bill itself.

Additionally, for the bill to be accepted in the Senate there would have to be eight Democratic senators who agreed with its premise. This is an awkward demand when not even all Republicans back Trump. The man Trum appointed to the helm of the Epa, Scott Pruitt, is particularly divisive because of his long opposition to the agency. Republican Senator Susan Collins of Maine said that she was hostile to the appointment of a man who was “so manifestly opposed to the mission of the agency” that he had sued the Epa 14 times. Polls from 2016 and 2017 suggests that most Americans would be also be opposed to the agency’s termination.

But if Trump is incapable of entirely eliminating the Epa, he has other ways of rendering it futile. In January, Potus banned the Epa and National Park Services from “providing updates on social media or to reporters”, and this Friday, Trump plans to “switch off” the government’s largest citizen-linked data site – the Epa’s Open Data Web Service. This is vital not just for storing and displaying information on climate change, but also as an accessible way of civilians viewing details of local environmental changes – such as chemical spills. Given the administration’s recent announcement of his intention to repeal existing safeguards, such as those to stabilise the climate and protect the environment, defunding this public data tool is possibly an attempt to decrease awareness of Trump’s forthcoming actions.

There was also a recent update to the webpage of the Epa's Office of Science and Technology, which saw all references to “science-based” work removed, in favour of an emphasis on “national economically and technologically achievable standards”. 

Trump’s reshuffle of the Epa's priorities puts the onus on economic activity at the expense of public health and environmental safety. Pruitt, who is also eager to #MakeAmericaGreatAgain, spoke in an interview of his desire to “exit” the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement. He was led to this conclusion because of his belief that the agreement means “contracting our economy to serve and really satisfy Europe, and China, and India”.

 

Rather than outright closure of the Epa, its influence and funding are being leached away. H.R. 861 might be a subtle version of one of Potus’ Twitter taunts – empty and outrageous – but it is by no means the only way to drastically alter the Epa’s landscape. With Pruitt as Epa Administrator, the organisation may become a caricature of itself – as in The Simpsons Movie. Let us hope that the #resistance movements started by “Rogue” Epa and National Parks social media accounts are able to stave off the vultures until there is “Hope” once more.

 

Anjuli R. K. Shere is a 2016/17 Wellcome Scholar and science intern at the New Statesman

0800 7318496