In Defense of Pollyanna

It has certainly been much longer since my last post than anticipated, but I still want to keep up the habit of writing - if for no one else's benefit other than my own. I'm also sorry that I never wrote anything for Easter week, but I realize it's not my responsibility to expound on every significant moment in the liturgical year of the Church anyway. That is another's vocation. In any case, the first few weeks of Easter were crazy-busy with the demands of a term paper for Hebrew on the word, ḥērem (devoting things to destruction and total annihilation, not a ruler's special group of female consorts). Happy Easter, by the way!

That all being said, one of the things I feel moved to write about after a six-week hiatus is none other than that little optimistic girl of fiction, Pollyanna. Mildly random, I know, but she's worth reflecting upon.

 

If you're like me, you've probably used her name is a pejorative manner to describe some saccharine, positive person or outlook on life. Few people can stand it when they're going through a rough time and someone chimes in with a thought or opinion from the "bright side," and I don't blame them for getting a little peeved. Sorrow, anger, grief, loneliness, confusion, etc. are all bitter and difficult experiences in life, but must be felt and lived through to be fully human. They can't just be eschewed in the name of unwavering happiness or some other pleasant emotion. In this sense, the proverbial "Pollyanna" does more harm than good if she tries to drag people out of their pain before they're ready, and chances are she'll piss those people off even more in the meantime.

Truth be told however, I don't think the character Pollyanna ever really did that. Now I've never read the book Pollyanna by Eleanor Porter, but I grew up watching the 1960 Walt Disney film adaptation starring the superbly cast Haley Mills. I highly recommend it. It was kind of a family favorite, especially for my Dad who is one of the least spiteful people I know. And although it may be deemed schmaltzy and outdated, and even though my memory of it may be hazy, I still stand by it and its central message.

For those of you who don't know, the main plot of the movie is that a poor, orphaned girl comes to live with her wealthy aunt who wields a lot of influence in the town. Pollyanna, however, meets and befriends many of the townsfolk - some of the most difficult, in fact. Among them are the fire-and-brimstone-preaching minister, the reclusive and curmudgeonly Mr. Pendergast, and the cantankerous hypochondriac, Mrs. Snow. She touches the lives of these and many others in a way that makes them better, fully human people. And when Pollyanna is severely injured at the end of the film, they return the favor with their offerings of love and support.

It's a watered down summary, but you get the idea. And frankly, I don't know what so wrong or worthy of a hrumph  about lives being changed for the better through the innocence of a child. Jesus was always chatting up children, like when he says, "unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt. 18:3). Now granted, such a line may have more to do with being totally dependent upon God than about being disarming, but I think it speaks volumes either way.

What I think people actually take issue with - even people who have never seen the movie versions or read the book - is Pollyanna's tendency to try to find the positive in certain (although not every) unfortunate situations. They may or may not be familiar with her so-called "Glad Game," but would still be skeptical of its basic principle. In one scene of the film, Pollyanna recounts to the self-pitying Mrs. Snow how her parents once ordered her a doll, but crutches came in the mail instead. Despite being disappointed with the mix-up, she and her father finally discovered something to be glad about: that no one in their family had to use the crutches. Now if that isn't a beautiful metaphor for the spirituality of poverty and gratitude, I don't know what is! And to all those who would still harangue Pollyanna for this irritatingly optimistic game, it should be noted that mention of it was only brought up a few times in the film. In fact, little Pollyanna, so disdained today for being too idealistic, naïve and out of touch with real human suffering, fails to find any reason to be glad at first when she is paralyzed from the waist down at the end of the movie. So contrary to popular belief, this dear fictional character does know a thing or two about pain and despair.

What I really like about the film Pollyanna is one of the pinnacle scenes, which sadly I only vaguely remember how it goes. In it she is speaking with the town's minister. I don't know what prompts the conversation, but eventually she has him read an Abraham Lincoln quote on her locket: "When you look for the bad in mankind expecting to find it, you surely will find it." Now I don't know how true that quote is to Lincoln's original, but I think it wraps up the central theme to Pollyanna better and to a much wider extant than even her "Glad Game." Furthermore, it is a severely much-needed message for today's world! I don't know why, but people seem to have contempt for Pollyanna because she tried to see the good in every person. And I'll grant it; seeing the good in people is challenging, and it's particularly annoying when you really don't like someone. But the message on her locket wasn't demanding that people see the good in one another (although, I think that should definitely be encouraged either way). Rather, it simply says that one will find the bad in another if they go looking for it. But what if more and more of us stop seeking the faults and foibles of our neighbors? What if we stop looking at each other's short-comings? In at least one of the Eucharistic prayers (not sure which one though) we beg God, "look not on our sins, but on the faith of you Church." If we so implore God to look away from our own sins, should we who are sinners not return the favor to our fellow imperfect brothers and sisters? And if we do find the bad in people, what then do we do with them? Talk about them? Deride them? Make them pay? Shoot them? Love them? Forgive them?

Suffice it to say, I fight a hard battle in defense of Pollyanna. I may be accused of being Pollyannaish myself (a word so incorporated into our usage, spellchecker didn't even underline it). I may be guilty of using that girl's name to discredit someone or an ideology. But in the end, I firmly believe there is much to be gleaned from the wisdom of her character. All to often we can fall prey to cynicism and sarcasm. One might find that despair garners more attention than hope or that happiness should be dismissed altogether because it is fleeting. And it is true that happiness - or gladness for that matter - does not last forever, and it is not sustaining. But a world not characterized by a sense of gratitude, hopefulness, and love is one held captive by dark and heavy chains - chains, which I believe, may perhaps be unlocked by the example of a cheerful, poor child.