I Want to Go to There: A Geographical Adoration of Fictional Places

By: Emily

Graphic by Emily

We all dream about getting away. Sometimes, when I watch a TV show, I imagine how awesome it must be to live in the world of those characters. The people, the shops, the experiences--they all seem so much cooler than what I am experiencing here in small-town America. Below is a list of awesome (and sometimes creepy) locations where I wished I lived.

Twin Peaks, Washington.
Home of David Lynch and Mark Frost's cult drama series, Twin Peaks is nestled away amidst the high cliffs and waterfalls of mountainous Washington. Twin Peaks outwardly resembles a peaceful quiet little town, but inside it is full of dark secrets. With all the houses resembling fancy cabins, I can imagine no greater camping trip than solving Laura Palmer's murder with Agent Cooper.

Quahog, Rhode Island.
It's hard to think of a kookier family than the Griffins. With Peter, Lois, Meg, Chris, Stewie, and Brian all under one roof breaking bathtubs and inviting James Woods over for dinner, it's crazy to think that anything else even could happen in Quahog. But worry not, there are plenty of escapades happening all over this town filled with snarky comments and subtle (and not-so-subtle) pop culture references. So pull up a chair and have a drink with Peter and the gang at the hottest bar in town, The Drunken Clam.

Stars Hollow, Connecticut. 
When I think of the perfect little town, Stars Hollow instantly comes to mind. With its vibrant orange foliage all year round and quaint little bed and breakfasts and diners, what could be better? Perhaps add clever quick-witted mother-daughter team Lorelei and Rory Gilmore, and you’ve got a winner. Stars Hollow hasso much history from its residents both past and present, that it seems like a great little place to learn about its colorful inhabitants that have probably been there since the beginning of time.

Cicely, Alaska.
Not many people would choose to live in Cicely, Alaska, when given the choice between this cold small town and New York City, but that's because they haven't watched Northern Exposure. With its large cast of colorful but various characters, there's nothing that can't happen for these residents. If you haven't seen this enjoyable little show, you're missing out on some snow-covered fun.

Pawnee, Indiana.
With Leslie Knope being so proud of Pawnee, it's hard not to want to visit the fictional town that is home to the Parks and Recreation Department. With a visit to Pawnee's gay club called "The Buldge" among many of the town's charming local businesses, what's not to love? Plus, if Ron Swanson will be there presenting me with a plate full of bacon upon my arrival, I don't know what more I could ask for.

After much contemplation, I realized that I don't want to live in these crazy locales because of the cool places that I want to hang out in. I want to live in these places because of the people that I want to hang out with. I mean, let's be honest. Pawnee, Indiana seems pretty boring without Leslie Knope causing some sort of kooky ruckus. Even though I find my hometown boring sometimes, I only feel that way when I'm alone. When I'm with my friends, anything is possible. And so I've come to realize that it doesn't matter where you are; all that matters is who you are with.

Just Let Me Do My Thang

By: Alex

Graphic by Emily

I’ve been trained to hate authority. That’s the easiest way to say it. As radical ‘cool cats’ from the 60s, my parents had a strong hatred against ‘the man’ and raised me and my sister to be the most independent thinkers of the new millennium. Though this seems like a great idea, it has presented me with many problems while growing up, especially spending so much time in a place as regimented as the public school system.

For example, on my first day of kindergarten, my teacher assigned jobs to everyone. I think my job was something like ‘clean up,’ where I had to go around the room at the end of the day and pick up scraps of paper that fell on the floor. At any rate, it was lame, and my 6-year-old mind believed that my leadership talents were wasted on such a mediocre job. So, I decided I would take on the responsibility of line leader, though it was assigned to someone else. I remember lining up for recess and casually strolling to the front of the line to open the door and lead my class outside. As my hand was on the doorknob, my teacher reached down and touched it at the same time. I looked up at her, expecting her to praise me for being such a leader, but instead she just pointed to the back of the line. I didn't believe it.

I hated being told what to do, because in that moment, I realized that I had absolutely no power over this teacher. I was a little 6-year-old, surrounded by a class of silent followers who would never have my back. If I tried to do my own thing, I would just get shot down again. I wasn’t trying to maliciously take someone’s job; I just wanted to help. This was totally unfair.

Now, looking back, though I overreacted, I did learn something very important about myself; I just don’t like being told what to do. Now, this kindergarten teacher was probably not guilty of this. But as I grew up I encountered many people who just thought I was nothing. They didn’t believe in me, and they told me what to do, and I had to listen, and it was the most humiliating thing in the world, because I felt so powerless. It was what I hated most: stupid people in positions of authority when I didn't—and I had nothing.

When I say I’ve been trained to hate authority, I don’t mean that I’ve hated every teacher, boss, or leader that I’ve come in contact with. But what I do mean is that I hate being stifled. As a free spirit, and I find that I’m most successful when I can exercise that privilege. I get scared when I think I’ll be put into a position when I don’t have the control to make my own decision.

Though I will never be able to escape authority completely, over the years, I’ve realized that I am in control of my own life. Like the flower children that raised me, I don’t have to put myself into a situation where I can’t do my own thing. When I evaluate my choices, I’ve been pretty successful on my own, and I don’t always need someone to give me direction. But I also need to remind myself that I can’t do it all alone. Though I still do hate authority, I’ve learned to avoid what I can’t handle, respect what I need to deal with, and ask for help when I need it. 

Gatsby? What Gatsby?

By: Emily

Graphic by Emily

 The Great Gatsby. Ever since literary great F. Scott Fitzgerald penned the masterpiece, it has become synonymous with the 1920's. The Great Gatsby tells the tale of a generation of rich socialites that engage in constant excessive and drunken merriment, never taking the repercussions for their actions. Our introspective and wallflower-like narrator, Nick Carroway, is a recent Yale graduate who lives next door to the enigma that is Jay Gatsby. Daisy Buchanan, Nick's naive and selfish cousin, is married to a colleague of Nick's named Tom. Before Daisy and Tom were married, Daisy and Gatsby were in love. Without giving too much away, let's just say things didn't work out, but Gatsby is back. The lavish parties Gatsby throws are not for his own enjoyment, but in the hopes of seeing Daisy and winning her heart once again. I would not be the first person to call the novel a masterpiece, but, even with its luxurious and exaggerated visuals, the recent film adaptation by Moulin Rouge director Baz Luhrmann comes up less-than-stellar.

When I first heard about a "contemporary" adaptation of The Great Gatsby, I thought there was a chance that it could be very innovative and unique. The trailer made me very excited for this film. Unfortunately, like Gatsby's parties, the excess of show was to no avail. What we are left with is a watered down version of one of the greatest novels ever written, replacing story with kitschy visuals. The film came off looking purposefully amateur, with too much slow/fast motion and obvious use of green screen.

Indeed, the film definitely captured the vitality and excess of the times, with Daisy's breath-takingly gorgeous diamond encrusted gowns and the constant flow of sequins and glitter that rained from the ceiling of Gatsby's three story mansion. Leo gave another perfect performance capturing Gatsby's strengths and weaknesses at the same time that will probably once again go unnoticed by the Academy. Similarly, Carey Mulligan proves she can do no wrong, making you both love and hate Daisy. The relationship between these two was portrayed with a vulnerable sensitivity that I was not expecting from a Baz Luhrmann film.

While I appreciate Baz's visual style and dramatic acting choices, it just did not work for this film. For a story so set in the 1920's, there was almost nothing that would vaguely remind someone of these times due to Jay-Z's blasting and only slightly jazzy version of Beyonce's "Crazy in Love" as well as the contemporary pace of the film. If anything, it was as if the writers of the film thought a modern day audience would not get the material and made it more accessible to them. Now while I am fine with making something more accessible for more people, the writers (Luhrmann included) went so far as to change certain elements of the plot, which is not okay. The results would make Fitzgerald roll in his grave.

We all know that the book is always better than the movie, and this is just another prime example of that.

A Place to Anchor, a Place to Call Home

By: Alex

Graphic by Emily

When things change so quickly in life, I find it hard to anchor myself somewhere. Whether I’m tethering to a person, a place or a memory, as I move faster, I get attached to less and less. But when I was younger--when I had one home and only knew about seven people--that was when it was easy to anchor myself in a familiar place.

One of my fondest memories from childhood is walking down the main street in my grandparents’ town outside of Pittsburgh. The whole place was time warped, as if it was frozen in the 1960s. Little shops lined the streets, and people were so friendly. They would invite their friends over for ‘supper’ and sit on their porches and drink lemonade. Kids would play football in the brick-covered streets, and teens were within walking distance to school every morning. Even the writing on the sides of the buildings screamed ‘vintage’ as the big, groovy letters on the bakery could only have been painted by a hippie trying to make a buck.

This place was safe. When I think of childhood, I think of these memories. I felt confident that nothing bad could happen to me in this perfect little town. I also feel like I let down a pretty solid anchor there.

But what was truly heartbreaking was when the place I let my anchor down in was gone forever. My grandparents passed away a few years ago, and we stopped visiting their little town. As we would occasionally passed through, I saw the place decay in just a few short years. The little stores I loved so much had turned to graffitied buildings and boarded up shops. The street corners that used to be filled with gossiping ladies and children with ice cream cones had turned into hot spots for drug dealers. The fact that I lost a great place to anchor myself left me floating at sea.

Though it’s still quite a blow to know that there is no way I could ever go back to this place, I learned something every important. Things will change, whether we’re around them or not. No matter how much heart we put into an experience, no matter how strong the memory, it doesn’t mean something will stay the same forever.  We can’t anchor ourselves in one place for too long.

As I grow up, I live in places far from where I grew up. Now, when I want to go ‘home,’ I have to pack a suitcase. One place no longer has everything for me. I need to keep moving to get what I want and what I need. Seeing my grandparent's home turn to a wasteland made me realize that I couldn’t hold onto it forever.

What I can hold onto is that rush of feelings I get as a memory is revived-- the thought of breaking fresh bread at the bakery, the convenience store where gum only cost ten cents, a sneaky sip of caffeine from the diner before 9AM --- that’s what will always be the same. The world will change around us, but it’s comforting to know that we can latch onto the memories that we hold most important. I anchor myself in these great memories I have because I know that no matter how much the things I love can decay around me, I will never have to watch a memory die.