The drunk punk rocker breaking bottles, the Molotov-throwing protester and the bespectacled theorist. These are the images that often come to mind when one thinks of anarchism. Yet they hardly tell the whole story. Mainly, they show anarchism at its worst; when it has been forced to enter in conflict with the state. They reflect more upon the violence of the nation and the police than they do upon any working vision of anarchy.
One can’t be blamed for confusing anarchy with a violent chaos. For this is how it most often appears in fiction. The media compounds this error by claiming that collapsed states, suffering beneath the brutal despotism of gang-rule, are anarchistic. They are not. Their dictators may only control street corners and improvised checkpoints, their police may only be men in trucks with machine gun turrets, but these are still dictators and police. They’re simply stripped of the trappings and the concessions that civilized people have forced them to make.
On the other side, some anarchists seem to think that the lack of the state will lead to a perfect utopia. They aren’t in favour of a better organized work place but in abolishing work altogether. They seem to think that, with no one forcing them to do anything, there will be nothing to do. After killing their bosses, they plan to make their living through art. Or some nonsense.
But, if freedom means anything, it means responsibility.
Few portrayals of anarchism understand this better than “Little House on the Prairie.”
This show ran between 1974 and 1983, being born from the ashes of the Vietnam war and dying during the reign of Ronald Reagan. It tells the story of a pioneer family, The Ingalls, who have to make their way in the harsh and unpopulated American west. Like Tolstoy, the Ingalls are Christian Anarchists and, since they are the heroes, the show adopts their view.
The loving father, Charles, is a hard working man, who runs a seemingly patriarchal household. Yet he never overrules his wife, never acts the tyrant with the children and usually acts within reason. All he asks from his children is that they be honest and do an honest day’s work. And, make no mistake, if the Ingalls do a lot of anything, it’s working.
Charles works in Hanson’s Mill and on his own farm, his children go to school and perform their chores and his wife, Caroline, has the unenviable task of running the household. She’s hardly the parasitic, pill popping 1950s housewife. She works just as hard as Charles, occasionally gets a job, makes the food and clothes, sells the eggs and contributes greatly to the family’s income.
The nobility of work and sweat are recurring themes. In season four’s “The Stranger”, a rich and velvet-clad child is sent to Walnut Grove by his irate father. Once there, Charles re-educates him through labour, and the child returns home a changed and moral little boy. He has learned the value of velvet.
Those who work are consistently portrayed with sympathy while those who don’t are either fools, crooks or a combination thereof. The most infamous example is The Olsen family. Local merchants, thus petit-bourgeois, they are seen as cruel, snobbish and understanding only of bribery. Their daughter, Nellie, was hated by many a child in the 1980s.
She has a strongly adversarial relationship with Laura Ingalls. This is established in the first season’s “Country Girls” and reaches a peak in “The Richest Man in Walnut Grove.”
In this episode, Laura reacts to Nellie’s snobbery with direct action. That is, she punches her in the nose and delivers a manifesto:
“Hardworkin’ folks only smell bad to people who have nothin’ better to do than stick their noses in the air. Whenever you stick your nose in the air with me, Nellie, it’s gonna get punched.”
The petit-bourgeoisie, however, are not exclusively portrayed as villains. Charles’ boss, Lars Hanson, works beside him and can be counted on for kindness but, more importantly, fairness. Even Nellie’s father, Nels, is a sympathetic character. Thus, it is not the petit-bourgeoisie that the show takes issue with but their aspirations and pretensions.
But the bourgeoisie proper –the co-coordinating, managerial classes- are always cast as villains. In “To Live With Fear” Mary Ingalls is hurt by a horse and needs surgery. Though the doctor is a good fellow who wants to do the right thing, the man in charge of the hospital finances refuses to extend Charles credit. That is, until he is threatened with direct action.
To earn the money to pay him, Charles works in a dangerous and desperate job, dynamiting a hole through a tunnel, and takes irresponsible risks at the behest of his foreman, who is working at the behest of a railway executive. This is an example of the power relationships in hierarchy. The lowest manager, Charles, runs risks because he is desperate, the one above him does so from fear of being fired and the man above him, does so from sheer greed. The men at the bottom are killed by this sick dynamic.
By the episode’s end, someone changes their ways, two people –Charles included– are punched in the nose and the Chinese workmen, whose blood stain that tunnel, form a labour movement.
The show is equally unsympathetic to the agents of state force. Police officers are portrayed as Indian killing madmen, driven by hatred to atrocity; bounty hunters are no better than the men they hunt and both sides in the civil war are seen as being wrong.
The town of Walnut Grove has no mayor and only two citizens invested with formal — though highly limited– power. The teacher and the priest. The teacher is monitored by a school board made up of the parents and the priest has exactly as much authority as he makes sense. When he stops making sense, the people stop listening.
There is only one public building. A Church that does double-duty as a school. In here, the townsfolk reach public decisions through consensus. They have a meeting and talk about it. But this is only in public matters, where the town must act as one. Such as when they decide to buy a new church/school bell.
In private affairs they are left alone. Though they are charitable, their greatest taboo is to accept charity. Thus, “Little House on the Prairie” rejects liberalism and the welfare state.
When the town does band together, it is usually to forcefully react to any attempt to control its members. In the show’s final episode, the residents of Walnut Grove actually blow up all their property rather than have it stolen by a robber baron. In “The Bully Boys” they march two scoundrels out of town while singing “Onward Christian Soldiers.” That episode explores the limitations of turning the other cheek. Sometimes, force must be met with force. But only after honest dialogue has been tried and found wanting. Only when there is no option left. Be Christian, the show says, but never consent to your victim-hood.
But the show’s real benefit is not that it illustrates how to protest or fight the state. Rather, it presents a vision of working anarchy that runs counter to the popular misconceptions. It shows freedom and its incumbent responsibilities; illustrating the benefit of both. Liberty and equality do not just happen and they are not government granted. They require hard work, honesty and a set of solid values.
In this, we can learn a great deal from the likes of the Ingalls. Whatever we may make of their Christian superstitions, these anarchists lead a better, less fictional life, than many of us.
6 comments
4 pings
VJESCI says:
January 7, 2009 at 7:04 pm (UTC -5 )
.little housing crisis on the prairie.
http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2009/1/7schorn.html
m1k3y says:
January 8, 2009 at 4:55 am (UTC -5 )
Bravo!
The world’s crying out for a show today with such a positive examples of how to live..
jankypanky says:
January 9, 2009 at 2:25 pm (UTC -5 )
And Charles is a true humanitarian, as seen in “The Fighter” where he helps a black man he doesn’t even know, just out of kindness. Who would do that? Besides myself and perhaps Mother Teresa on a good day.
Marcus says:
July 7, 2009 at 7:15 pm (UTC -5 )
You my friend, have too much time on your hands. I only skipped through what you wrote and I am amazed at how idiotic it is. You read way to much into this show. If you don’t like it so much then don’t watch it. The show had good intentions. Find something actually worthwhile to rant about.
Ryan Oakley says:
July 7, 2009 at 11:19 pm (UTC -5 )
I love that show –really love that show– and have no idea what you’re talking about. But, at least, neither do you.
It is amusing to hear about having too much time on my hands from someone is going through the internet and commenting on posts they didn’t bother to read.
If you don’t like something, just move on. There’s a whole internet out there for God’s sake.
Anonymous says:
August 26, 2010 at 8:32 pm (UTC -5 )
i like little house it is my favorite shoe
Best List is the Blacklist « The Grumpy Owl says:
February 25, 2009 at 5:39 pm (UTC -5 )
[...] Sycophantic, grubbing little beasties who’ll sell out anything if it makes them feel big. These are the Nellie Olsens of the world. They need a punch in the [...]
Best List is the Black List says:
February 28, 2009 at 12:12 pm (UTC -5 )
[...] Sycophantic, grubbing little beasties who’ll sell out anything if it makes them feel big. These are the Nellie Olsens of the world. Ad they all need a punch in the [...]
Little House on The Prairie: The Musical: Canon Theatre | The Grumpy Owl says:
February 1, 2010 at 1:11 am (UTC -5 )
[...] long-time readers of this blog might recall that I’m a dedicated LHOP fan. It would come as no surprise that I had no press pass for this. It was just something that I [...]
Tweets that mention Portraits in Anarchy: "Little House on the Prairie." | The Grumpy Owl -- Topsy.com says:
June 29, 2010 at 2:38 pm (UTC -5 )
[...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Ryan Oakley, mattgreco. mattgreco said: RT @thegrumpyowl: Portraits in Anarchy: "Little House on the Prairie." http://bit.ly/cZrYC0 Needs repeating, I think. [...]