Chapter Seven: X-O-2
Tookie wakes up, having gone to bed immediately after returning home from shopping, to the sound of Creamy and Chris-Crème-Crobat arguing about how Creamy returned late from the mall. Creamy tells Chris-Crème-Crobat about the 7Seven ceremony, which the drunk Chris-Crème-Crobat passes off as an excuse.
Tookie sneaks a look into her mother’s office. We get a bit of description about the dolls and a bit of angsting from Tookie about how her mother doesn’t love her.
Chris-Crème-Crobat retorts that Creamy could have watched the 7Seven ceremony with him, believing that she was instead watching it with her “man friend”. Creamy mocks him for this belief, but Chris-Crème-Crobat continues on this line of thought.
“… Sometimes I think you wish that sword had killed me. So that you could continue your life with her father!”
Creamy asks what Chris-Crème-Crobat means, and he states that he is referring to Creamy’s daughter’s father. When Creamy asks if he means Myrracle, he states that he knows Myrracle is his daughter and that he’ll share in her fortunes…and that he is referring to Creamy’s other daughter.
What perfect timing for them to get into this argument! And what a coincidence that Tookie is awake to hear that Chris-Crème-Crobat may not be her father! (Then again, don’t Pokemon babies take on the breed of their mother?)
Creamy mentions Tookie’s one green eye, but Chris-Crème-Crobat denies it means anything, calling Tookie a “circus freak” and “uncoordinated, unattractive, and unmemorable.” Creamy says that Chris-Crème-Crobat doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but because Creamy doesn’t explicitly say that Tookie isn’t any of those things, Tookie takes it as a sign that her mother doesn’t love her. Because no one can like a person that they think is clumsy, ugly, and forgettable.
Chris-Crème-Crobat continues to express his belief that Tookie is not his daughter, mentioning that Creamy gave birth to Tookie while he was away performing. He mentions that the doctors believed that Creamy wouldn’t be able to have any more children, though they ended up having Myrracle two years later, whom Chris-Crème-Crobat appreciates because of her resemblance to her father.
Creamy insists he is out of his mind, and Chris-Crème-Crobat punches through a wall as if proving the fact. Chris-Crème-Crobat reveals his plan: to have a paternity test done for Tookie, using her toothbrush. If—or, as Chris-Crème-Crobat believes, when—it turns out that Tookie is not his daughter, he’ll have her sent away to the factories.
Tookie thinks back to the Factory Dependents she saw (back in Chapter Two) and accidentally makes a noise. Chris-Crème-Crobat hears it, notices her, and tells her off with the same words he used previously:
“Just go,” he said gruffly, staring at her with his good eye. “For all of us.”
Tookie hurries out of the house, reflecting on what her father said about her. She decides that she has to leave, and knows what to do: Exodus.
The next morning, Tookie packs her bag. Knowing it might be the last time she ever sees Myrracle, Tookie whispers some words of encouragement to her, saying that she hopes Myrracle will be happy at Modelland.
It’s revealed that the night before, Tookie painted “X-O-2” on the front door of her house—the sign to Lizzie for Exodus—and that Lizzie had replied with the time that they would leave. Tookie thinks about the possibilities, away from Peppertown, and counts down the steps to the door—
And Creamy spots her. Creamy is sporting a top that reads “Modelland needs a Myrracle!” and thinks that Tookie’s bag is extra supplies for Myrracle. Tookie tries to get outside, but Creamy stops her and forces her to go. Chris-Crème-Crobat and Brian (Myrracle’s friend who regularly insults her intelligence) are waiting by the car. Chris-Crème-Crobat is dressed in the same costume that he had lost his eye in, complete with bloodstains.
…ew.
Tookie tries to resist, but her parents grab hold of her and drag her to the car, where she gets shoved in the back. All Tookie can think about is how scared Lizzie was and if her life was really in danger.
And as the car starts, Tookie lays eyes on Lizzie. The rest of the De La Crèmes and Brian glare at Lizzie’s unseemly appearance.
Lizzie’s eyes popped wide, as if she’d just seen something that terrified her. She took a couple of wheeling backward steps, her hands trembling. And then Lizzie let out a shrill, window-shattering, eardrum-piercing scream, a sound that sent tremors through Tookie’s limbs. A sound Tookie would never forget as long as she lived.
“I’m so so so sorry!” Tookie called. Lizzie’s screaming was intensifying as Tookie moved away from her. Lizzie, I’ll be back for you tonight! I promise!”
The car made a sweeping left turn onto the street, moving farther and farther away from the small red-headed girl. Lizzie’s screams persisted. Tookie could hear those loud, shrill, betrayed wails for blocks and blocks, reverberating over and over as the De La Crèmes drove down the wide avenue full of cars, all on their way to The Day of Discovery.
Poor Lizzie. And oh, poor Tookie.
And I’m not saying this sarcastically. Tyra has finally made me feel sympathetic for Tookie, even though she’s been trying to do so heavy-handedly for the entire book. All it took was giving the protagonist some sort of motivation and presenting them with real problems that stood as a serious threat to their aspirations.
This chapter was not bad at all, and it’s chapters like this one and the latter half of the second chapter that make Modelland a not-entirely-awful book. But it still makes you wish that all of it was up to the same level of quality.
Chapter Eight: Welcome to T-DOD
And who better to welcome us than our dahling narrator? Surprisingly, among the stupid things the dahling narrator says, there is actually one thing of note here, something mentioned in the prologue, so let’s get started!
Our dahling narrator tells us that The Day of Discovery has arrived, and all around the world, from “the sexy beaches of Terra BossaNova” to “the strip of Striptown” and “the Taj Gardens in Chakra”, although Metopia is the best place to experience T-DOD due to its proximity to Modelland.
I don’t think you could come up with a stupider name for your version of India than “Chakra”.
But our dahling narrator reveals a darker side of T-DOD: some who are not selected to go to Modelland cannot accept the decision, and become determined to reach Modelland by any means necessary. These girls who decide to embark across the Diabolical Divide are referred to as “Pilgrims” suffering from a “Plague”.
This plague is worse than the one you might already be familiar with—the B one. Bubonic, that is. That plague induces seizures, fevers, chills, gland swelling, the upchucking of blood, and the decomposition of skin while one is still alive. But I will take the bubonic plague any day—for if it’s caught in time, it can be ousted from the body with a simple swallow of one of the two “mycins”: genta or strepto. The Pilgrim Plague, however, is terminal, dahling. And I am not referring to an airline departure lounge. None who have journeyed up the mountain have ever made it to Modelland. And none have returned to Metopia alive.
Now, doesn’t that send Shivera shivers all the way down to your sky-high stilettos?
Remember how I said that the dahling narrator would say plenty of stupid things?
Also, hmmm I wonder why the narrator decided to bring that up. It couldn’t possibly come up later in the story could it…?
We return to the story, where the Chris-Crème-Crobat-Mobile (the De La Crèmes’ car) are arriving in LaDorno. There’s plenty of T-DOD merchandise, adorned with the “WHERE THE HELL IS Ci~L?” slogan, as well as protesters with signs claiming that T-DOD is a sham. Tookie sees shoulder bags with photos of Exodus the Intoxibella and thinks of Exodus the plan, feeling horrible about Lizzie.
There’s also plenty of girls who show confidence, even though—as Tookie thinks—not all of them are “exactly Intoxibella quality.” Then she angsts about having to help Myrracle. Creamy tells Myrracle not to dance as she applies makeup to Myrracle.
Chris-Crème-Crobat finds a parking space for the Crobatmobile, and Tookie ends up carrying the bag she packed for Exodus as they head into town square. We get a description of three mysterious obelisks, known as the Obscure Obelisks, at the base of the Modelland mountain which are sacred to some people and a tourist attraction to others. Creamy voices her disgust towards the obelisks, but Tookie has a different view of them:
I don’t think they’re ugly. Tookie gazed at them with wonder. I think they’re architecturally interesting.
Unique. A mystery.
Well, la-di-da.
The De La Crèmes set up on a patch of grass, where all around them other girls are changing their clothes in the open. They’re explicitly described as being naked.
Now, remember that girls as young as thirteen participate in The Day of Discovery.
However, Chris-Crème-Crobat declares “Not my Myrracle!” to apparently no one at all and sets up a blow-up tent for Myrracle. Creamy has Myrracle’s friend Brian go into Tookie’s bag, where they find flashlights, pillows, and green bananas to Creamy’s delight.
Myrracle puts on her dress inside of the tent; ironically, the dress is the same colour as her own skin. Tookie buttons the bodice with her baby fingers while Creamy does Myrracle’s hair. Tookie asks her mother if anything is going to change, and to Tookie’s horror, Creamy replies that she will honour Chris-Crème-Crobat’s decisions.
Myrracle puts on the SMIZE, causing everyone to stare and compliment her. Tookie even thinks that Myrracle with her SMIZE looks even more beautiful than the 7Sevens.
The mayor of Metopia, Devin Rump the Sixth, arrives and gives an introduction to The Day of Discovery. He muses about what look will attract the eyes of Modelland this season.
Tookie used to watch the mayor every year on television on The Day of Discovery, wishing, hoping he’d utter, Will it be girls with one brown and one green eye?
But it had never happened.
So much for Tookie being the only person who doesn’t want to go to Modelland.
Mayor Rump also states that the losers can get themselves a job in the factories. No one applauds.
Myrracle asks Tookie if she looks alright, and Tookie feels some empathy towards Myrracle, knowing it might be the last time she ever sees Myrracle. Tookie compliments her appearance, followed by Chris-Crème-Crobat giving words of encouragement to Myrracle. Or rather, saying, “This is our destiny.”
You do have to feel a little sympathy for Myrracle. Even though she is a brat, she’s become little more than a tool for fame and fortune to Creamy and Chris-Crème-Crobat.
And shortly afterwards, Mayor Rump says the word:
“Begin.”
Next time…Bzzz!
(Bzzz?)
Asahel on 11 February 2013, 15:19 said:
Oh, I don’t know. There’s always “Outdia.”
ScarletSpecter on 11 February 2013, 15:56 said:
…I never thought I’d say this, but I have to agree, Tookie has already ascended leagues above many YA heroines in my book. And it only took one simple thing. Actually giving two sh*ts about someone else (someone as in not a boyfriend) for once. And the Cinderalla vibes actually work because now we’re seeing that there’s more at stake for Tookie. If she wasn’t so weepy all the time, I’d actually have to admire the girl.
But, I must add, it really says something about Banks’ priorities when she’d preferred a horrific, disfiguring disease responsible for millions of deaths over a rejection-induced trek to achieve your dreams. I’m seeing a theme here. Misery and angst is apparently synonomous with “Character Development”. Only characters who exist to be unhappy deserve any reward. The ones that actually fight for their dreams are always the misguided, tortured wenches.
Tim on 11 February 2013, 17:18 said:
Given the level of stupidity and pointless cruelty involved so far, he’s probably going to stab her in the arm with the toothbrush to get a blood sample.
There’s only one X-02.
This book is a lie.
Wonder != “architecturally interesting”
It’s kind of ridiculous that the worst fate Tyra can think of is having an actual job.
Prince O' Tea on 11 February 2013, 17:38 said:
I laughed at the toothbrush stabbing remark.
And I have to agree. I genuinely felt sorry for Tookie in this section, and wanted to give her a hug. Creamy and Chris Creme Crobat are horrible people, who seem like pagaent mothers or stage parents.
lilyWhite on 11 February 2013, 17:48 said:
I don’t think Tyra Banks shares the same views as the dahling narrator. At the very least, I’m hoping Banks is aware that mixing bleach and ammonia is a bad idea.
The factories are described as pretty horrible places to work in. It does bring up something worth mentioning: it’s almost as if there’s nothing in the world that doesn’t have to do with fashion. Every single girl wants to be a model. Mayor Rump says it almost like “girls, if you don’t get to be a model, then the factory’s the only alternative!”
Or do the men do everything else? Given the description of (takes deep breath) Chris-Crème-Crobat!, it doesn’t seem like all men care that much about fashion, unlike the women in this setting.
Brendan Rizzo on 11 February 2013, 21:02 said:
I will second that. I will even argue that that is the whole point of Creamy and Chris-Creme-Crobat’s characterization, that the readers aren’t supposed to sympathize with them. Done right, this could show how utterly messed up society is, that everybody is a stage mom who only cares about superficial appearances.
This has just reached Yu-Gi-Oh levels of insanity. Because supermodels are Serious Business!
Pryotra on 11 February 2013, 21:17 said:
Particularly the later series like GX or 5D. You know, when the entire society is based on this card game.
Asahel on 11 February 2013, 21:56 said:
I’ll solve this the way I solve all my problems: By playing a children’s card game!
Prince O' Tea on 11 February 2013, 22:23 said:
It’s time to m-m-m-m-m-moooodelll!
Pryotra on 11 February 2013, 22:58 said:
On motorcycles!
(…In America.)
Azure on 11 February 2013, 23:12 said:
How does one pronounce Ci~l? Do I pronounce it as Ciel? Do tildes make a sound?
My brain is broken.
lilyWhite on 11 February 2013, 23:13 said:
“See-el”. It was mentioned in one of the early chapters.
ScarletSpecter on 11 February 2013, 23:14 said:
Yeah, because I can’t think of anything more fulfilling in life than a bunch of cards and being employed as a walking mannequin (i.e. modelling). Where could we possibly be without any of that?
Tim on 12 February 2013, 01:04 said:
I wonder if there are specializations. Like, when you have a leak in your pipes do you call someone who has a deck which can call upon the awesome power of Plumbor and the Sixth Seal of Grouting? Is there a special school of model with clothes made of toolbelts who practice secret long-lost posing arts which involve doing carpentry?
ScarletSpecter on 12 February 2013, 01:18 said:
That’s some creativity you’ve got there. And I mean that as unironically as this subject matter allows. It’s scary when that sounds leagues more legit than what’s presented in the actual book.
swenson on 12 February 2013, 09:28 said:
That does tend to happen with some of these books. If there’s a single phrase that sums up most sporked material, it’s “missed opportunity”. It’s rare that a book has absolutely nothing original or interesting in it, it’s simply that with these books… there’s so much crap piled on top of the originality, you can barely see it.
Except for Maradonia. Those things are so random and disorganized, I dunno if you could make much at all out of them.
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 09:55 said:
Maradonia would just be another generic fantasy novel if it was well written. In its current form, its glorious for its sheer stupidity and wonderfully quotable memes such as: “but what about poison” and “we love the salsa dance”.
Tim on 12 February 2013, 10:55 said:
It just reminded me of that Python skit set in a world where everyone is a superhero, so their superheroes are supermen with secret identities as completely normal people. It focuses on Bicycle Repair Man.
Epke on 12 February 2013, 11:31 said:
I hate this. I really hate this when it’s used so poorly.
This, despite the simple description, paints a very good picture. So… you don’t suck all the time, Tyra.
Prince, you have the diarrhoea of the mouth!
lilyWhite on 12 February 2013, 11:52 said:
Just you wait.
Just you wait.
swenson on 12 February 2013, 12:46 said:
Yeah, coincidence can go die in a fire.
Somebody (I always reference them, but I can never find the quote) said you get one coincidence per story, the inciting incident that kicks everything off. Any more than that is cheating.
Somebody else said you can have as many coincidences as you like so long as they aren’t pleasant ones (in other words, no deus ex machina), but I don’t agree with that as much.
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 12:59 said:
I’m a videogamer, a member of the Club of Evil and a prime example of this Corrupt and Mediocre Generation.
ScarletSpecter on 12 February 2013, 13:38 said:
Yeah, one could say that this is a problem with Harry Potter what with him almost always happening to be in just the right place at the exact right time to catch a major plot detail. Though, within the context of the situation, this does have justification. And Harry is often the one who instigates the entire setup. Otherwise, I’d say Harry Potter is the latter example mentioned so I believe this is the rare instance when this is handled well.
Otherwise this is very annoying especially when a coincidental detail only serves to enable the character. Maximum Ride is an extremely grating example, because at the exact moment they need a certain thing, it’s literarily handed to them with no strings attached. They need a disguise? Bam! Within the same second of this utterance, a designer just conviniently pops by and picks them to be his fashion guinea pigs. Need some money? Bada Bing! Jack that guy’s cash while he’s conviently distracted. Need an identity card? Presto! They just magically happen to stumble upon a card with MAXIMUM RIDE’S NAME ON IT! James Patterson has turned Deus ex machina and atrociously lazy writing into an artform.
And trust me when I say I couldn’t have made this sound stupider if I tried. It really is that bad. (rant over)
Brendan Rizzo on 12 February 2013, 13:44 said:
I don’t either. Diaboli ex machinae are just as annoying and unjustified as dei ex machinae, after all. Otherwise, one could write a story where the heroes have the villain by the ropes, and then he just reveals that he was immune to their attack all along. Wait a minute…
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 14:10 said:
My favourite Deus Ex Machina was the one where Harry’s life is saved when it turns out wands turn out to have the ability to vomit ghosts under the right conditions.
ScarletSpecter on 12 February 2013, 14:44 said:
I hope you don’t mean Patronus’ which were firmly established in The Prisoner of Azkaban. So I assume you mean the infamous graveyard from The Goblet of Fire. Yeah, that was pretty awkward. I don’t remember it ever being mentioned again…in light of (spoiler) Cedric’s death and Voldemort’s return.
I guess Rowling just figured she could nudge that whole thing under the rug.
Tim on 12 February 2013, 15:07 said:
I think for Potter deus ex machina it’s kind of hard to beat “luckily, I just happen to have have this time machine since we started school and only just felt like it might come in handy. Before this I was only using it for
inspiring me x myself fanficsstudying.”ScarletSpecter on 12 February 2013, 15:23 said:
I wouldn’t say that’s a Deus ex Machina. You have to remember that with this kind of thing context and setup are everything. And before we have the “time machine” reveal, Rowling laid out plenty of subtle hints and instances where Hermoine mysteriously disappears. With Deus ex Machina, the point is that this occurrence comes out of nowhere with no excuse. You could say that a lot of instances that would’ve been clear-cut cases of Potter’s Deus ex Machina have plenty of backing given past allusions and buildup. So Rowling at least has a firm sense of narrative precognition.
One thing I respect about the books, is Rowling’s strict show, don’t tell rule. She’s not going to hold your hand. Readers are expected to pick up on these clues on their own.
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 16:09 said:
Priori Incantatum is probably one of the most glaring examples of a Deus Ex Machina in any medium ever and no one can convince me otherwise. If I was a fan of the books, I probably would have gone into an Annie Wilkes rage about cockadoodie wands.
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 16:12 said:
I disagree on JK Rowling having a show don’t tell rule. I’ve lost count of the times she reveals plot/character information in interviews that is either not hinted at all in the books, or better yet, is actually contradicted by them.
Fireshark on 12 February 2013, 16:20 said:
Nothing in the interviews is required in order to understand the books.
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 16:24 said:
You don’t need an interview to understand Twilight, but that doesn’t mean Smeyer never engages in Show not Tell.
Epke on 12 February 2013, 18:16 said:
… I’m suddenly very afraid of the next chapter <hides under the covers>.
Hmm, it is mentioned in the first book that Harry’s wand is brother to Voldemort’s – this is also the only instance where a wand is mentioned to have a brother, so its uniqueness is firmly established – and in the fourth book this is further reinforced with the Weighing of the Wands. While the foreshadowing that the wand cores are important was subtle (or not enforced enough), it was there. So, imo, not a deus ex machina. At least not comparable to the Sorting Hat.
lilyWhite on 12 February 2013, 18:44 said:
Oh, it’s not the next chapter. But I’ll say no more on that…
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 20:19 said:
Still a Deus Ex Machina. Nothing about that connection suggests a Super Awesome Power that suddenly and conveniently manifests solely for the purpose of saving the hero from certain death. Its so Deus Ex Machina-ey in every way. There’s a reason why
Prince O' Tea on 12 February 2013, 20:30 said:
Sorry, I pressed enter too soon. I’m going to have to disagree on you with that, because the comments regarding the wands were extremely vague and very few. Even if you don’t think it is a Deus Ex Machina, you have to agree its dangerously close to one.
Epke on 13 February 2013, 08:12 said:
<pulls another cover over his head>
I’d agree with you, except that Priori Incantatem isn’t a super special awesome power. It’s a result of a, as far as we can tell, exceedingly rare condition that probably only has one or two recorded instances in wizarding history. And from the fight, we saw that it could’ve gone either way – had Voldemort been focusing more, he’d probably have shattered Harry’s wand, killed Harry and then flounced all the way to the Ministry.
It’s also included for another reason, although this doesn’t become obvious until the last book: that Voldemort now needs a new, more powerful wand and so sets the whole Deathly Hallows into motion. I’d say rather than a Deus Ex Machina, Rowling is omitting small, important details that might’ve been included for the sake of clarification.
Prince O' Tea on 13 February 2013, 09:25 said:
But don’t you think that’s possibly being very generous with the definition? I mean, if saying one or two very vague references about the powers and uniqueness of the hero’s weapon/trinket (the few times its mentioned, we are told that its very very rare that wands that share the same core are, and its certainly unique in terms of the plot, harry and voldie are the only ones who have such a connection), is enough to justify any highly unlikely and miraculous power that only manifests just in time to save the hero from certain death, then I know my writing just got much easier. All I have to do is sprinkle a few vague terms, and I’ll be able to save myself from any unwinnable corners I write myself into.