The concept which I am looking at for this February blog post is Barthes' Mythologies, and in particular the reading, "Toys"
The story "Toys," is a short narrative from the book 'Mythologies,' which comes from a collection of mythologies written by Roland Barthes. The myth, in essence, is an interesting look at toys from the old days in France which were made out of wood, and comparing those with modern toys that are made of other materials. Barthes' opinion is that he is discouraged by the creation of toys today. They are breakable, not long lasting, and the most important point is that the toys take away the sense of a child's want to create. Wooden toys rather, had a sense of purpose and creativity.
My example relating to the myth, 'Toys," is the difference between my house in Edinburgh and visiting my grandparents house in the north of Scotland, more commonly known as the middle of fucking nowhere. They have a grand house, lots of fields surrounding their house and an abacus or a VHS player where you can watch the first Harry Potter- HD of course. Nonetheless it really made me feel at one with nature, walking around the fields with no internet and rain slashing down can actually make me love the countryside and the simplicity of it all. Now I am sucked in to checking social media for endless hours and every 2minutes, checking who has done what, where someone has been and what they are doing. I wish I could go back to my grandparents' house, just for a weekend to hit the reset button.
I can take the idea of Toys to the kitchen and into the spare time of my day. Rather than buying ready cooked chicken, and ready made salads, I can take the time to be more creative and have more purpose with my cooking. I can buy each individual ingredient and my own seasonings to create something new and exciting, and experiment. Additionally "Toys,' has made me think about reading rather than browsing social media or watching Netflix. I'm not talking about reading a book on my phone or kindle, but rather a weighty 250 page book.
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