I used to read “Highlights” magazine quite a bit as a kid. My favorite was a recurring bit called “Goofus and Gallant,” a two-to-four panel comic of sorts in which two brothers – Goofus and Gallant – would illustrate different aspects of morality or good behavior through their respective actions.
The aptly-named Gallant would perform a task that generated positive results – share with his friends, say, or make his bed without being told – while Goofus would do just the opposite – leave his bed unmade, his room a shambles and not let his friends (how he had them at all, I have no idea) anywhere near his toys. There was no middle ground with these two – Gallant was always the golden child – a goody-two-shoes mama’s boy – while Goofus was the rebel without a cause, a guy who acts like a general prick every chance he gets. My mother used to call me Goofus, and I’m still a little bitter (although I can’t help but think she was at least partially justified in doing so).
But does my bitterness count as an unresolved family issue? I don’t think so.
Catheryn J. Brockett’s book, “The Dysfunctional Family Funbook,” on the other hand, is chock-full of them (it reminds me of a “Highlights” issue gone horribly wrong; additionally, it is one of the saddest books I have ever read).
On the surface, the “Funbook” is an activity book – roughly the size and shape of a coloring book – designed to “keep you sane your whole visit home,” according to the front cover.
But Brockett’s book is full of implicit – and quite disturbing – meaning.
“I wrote this book after I broke up with my family,” Brockett writes in the “About the Author” blurb on the book’s last page, a fact which is apparent through passive aggressive jabs at her family, which are cleverly disguised as “activities.”
Oh, for the most part they’re innocent enough, these activities: crossword puzzles, word searches, directions for “kitchen science projects” – all the stuff of an activity book should include.
But then there are the paper dolls.
There’s one for each member of (I’m assuming; she thanks them in the “Acknowledgments” section, at least) Brockett’s family: a sister, a brother, a mother and father. Each doll has little paper accessories to go along with it. These accessories are intended to be humorous: “prescription” drugs, a “thong revealing” skirt and a “chip for the shoulder” for the sister; a nun’s habit and a wooden cross for the mother doll; a bottle of wine for the father; a power suit, Blackberry phone and a joint for the brother. The brother doll is the strangest to me; by all accounts, it looks as if brother is a successful guy (he also comes with an “overpriced briefcase” and a pair of “expensive jeans”). Why on earth, then, are we poking fun at the guy for smoking a little weed every now and then? Give him a break, Brockett, he’s just trying to unwind after a busy day of bringing home the bacon. Ain’t no crime in that.
There are also the “Special Day Cards,” which are greeting cards that are personalized for each member of the family. Again, passive aggressiveness reins. The “Dad” card reads “Thanks for not calling me by my sister’s name again today!” The “Mom” card thanks mommy dearest for “always doing the minimum;” the “Granpoppy” card congratulates old grandpa on “four hours of sobriety today!”
Overall, this “Funbook” is nothing more than a coping mechanism that has manifested itself commercially; Brockett is literally making fun of her family to make herself feel better, and marketing it to people who might relate to her (very specific) problems. Either that, or the book’s target audience lives in a sitcom family (albeit a very dark one, like “8 Simple Rules” after John Ritter died and David Spade replaced him).
“Cheaper than therapy!” is emblazoned on the book’s front cover in loopy script. I suppose so, but is Brockett referring to the reader or herself? That’s pretty obvious (hint: herself).
Buy it if you want, I guess, but the “Funbook” will mostly just make you feel sad. You’d be better off with Dad’s bottle of wine and brother’s joint.
-Adam Kohut is a professional writing senior.
The Oklahoma Daily is pleased to provide you the opportunity to share your thoughts about this article. We encourage lively debate on the issues of the day, but we ask you refrain from using profanity or other offensive speech, engaging in personal attacks or name-calling, posting advertising, or straying from the topic at hand. To comment, you must be a registered user of OUDaily.com. Thanks for taking the time to offer your thoughts.
You must be logged in to leave a comment. Log in | Register
scrappycj 3 years ago
Adam - Goofus, Sir, I'm sorry I made you sad!
It was totally therapy for me - I wish you had called me, I would have loved to talk to you about it. There are a lot of dysfunctional families out there. Many of us find comfort in poking fun at the shared experience -
http://media.www.ucbvu.com/media/storage/paper1235/news/2009/04/24/Entertainment/A.Book.That.Saves.Students.Sanity-3724742.shtml
Catheryn, P.S. It's a creative work, it's not exactly autobiographical...actually I have no family... I was grown in a Petri dish. A fully functional Petri dish.
OUguy 3 years ago
*A stagecoach driver.
Sorry.
mburris: Worse at copy editing than The Daily!
mburris 3 years ago
Passive aggressiveness reins what? Is passive aggressiveness as stagecoach driver?
OU Daily copy editing: Now worse than the journalism!