SVK #72: The Macaroni Mess
Because I never really grew up reading SVK that much, I always find these books a little weird. I mean, all my favourite Sweet Valley High characters are there, but they're...younger. It's like watching Muppet Babies, SVH style. It makes me uncomfortable to think that at one point in time, they were just innocent young children with exactly the same specific character traits. I think it makes it harder for me to hate them. (But not impossible. Let's just get that straight.)
This title confirms my suspicion that after 15 years of Sweet Valley books, the ghosties pretty much gave up. Because look at this, people. The kids make a mess, there's macaroni involved, and someone writes a whole book about it. A macaroni mess. This is what passes for plot when you're writing about a bunch of seven-year-olds.
The cover is hysterically bad. That's Elizabeth on the right, dumping green paint on Winston's head while looking a scary amount like Bindi Irwin. Caroline Pearce is on the left, mid-paint throw. Oh, and there's a terrified rabbit on the table for no real reason. I've looked ahead, and at no point is either class rabbit mentioned, so I don't know what was going on with that artistic decision. This particular book also has a weird border of art supplies and paint cans, helpfully labelled 'PAINT'. In case we confused it with jam, I suppose.
The second-graders have just been to the Sweet Valley Art Museum, and now they're on the bus back to school, discussing the day's activities. Lila casually mentions that her dad has a Picasso at home, just like the one they saw at the museum.
Above: Everything I know about Picasso.
Charlie Cashman and Jerry McAllister laugh about one particular painting of toilet paper. Which I totally would have done when I was seven as well. Liz helpfully tells us that Jerry can be a bit of a douche sometimes, but Charlie is an out-and-out bully, and Liz has no time for people like that. Me personally, I like Charlie. He has moxie. Charlie says that the painting of a mirror's reflection reminded him of the twins. Not because it depicted two of the same thing, but because it was of a monkey. Hee! Charlie Cashman is so awesome.
Liz tells us about how she and Jess are twins, blah blah name bracelets, blah blah dimple in left cheek. Wait, I don't actually remember hearing about how the twins only have one dimple before. Is this usual? Anyway, Liz helpfully reminds us how Jessica thinks boys are gross. Sigh. Okay, maybe the Sweet Valley children don't have exactly the same specific character traits. We also get some exposition on their teacher, Mr. Crane, but nothing about who the fuck he is and where Mrs. Otis went. The one SVK character I know, and she's been replaced. Perfect. Mr. Crane apparently loves animals. Not birds, I hope, for Bruce Patman's sake. Mr. Crane tells the class that he's got a big surprise for them back in the classroom.
Back in room 203, Mr. Crane whistles to get the kids' attention. Todd is confused as to where the whistling has come from, and I'm confused as to how Todd manages to successfully dress himself in the morning without incident. Mr. Crane uncovers a giant cage in the corner of the room, and...oh no...it's a bird! Hahaha, thank God Bruce isn't in this class. Mr. Crane introduces the kids to their new class parrot, Petey.
Pretty birdie!"
Somewhat bafflingly, Mr. Crane tells the kids to forget about Petey for a second and share their favourite moments from the field trip. Mr. Crane, have you seriously never worked with kids before? You do not show them something new and shiny and alive, and then expect them to forget all about it for an undisclosed period of time. But of course, because this is Sweet Valley, the kids all do as they're told and start talking about the field trip. Tom McKay says his favourite part was snack time, and "is the surprise a snack?" No, Tom. The surprise was the freakin' birdie. Keep up. And also, you may want to start taking art a little more seriously, McKay, if your role as the stereotypical Sweet Valley gay guy is going to work out. Ken Matthews says that his favourite part was watching the glass blower, because "that guy's got a lot of hot air." Um, okay, Ken. That's a weird thing to say, but no, it's fine. You're entitled to your own strangely-worded opinion. Kinda wish they'd given that line to Tom McGay, though.
Mr. Crane then excitedly tells the kids that they will be having their very own second grade art show. They'll each make something artsy, be it papier-mache or a clay sculpture or a painting or whatever, and they can invite their parents to come along and look at their masterpieces. Oh, how fun! Elizabeth tells us that "I was so excited, my heart felt like a Ping-Pong ball bouncing up and down." What a great metaphor. Charlie announces that he's going to make a papier-mache snake, and Lila's all, "Ew!" Charlie's proud of himself for freaking out the girls with his snake (thankfully, that one's not a metaphor) and Lila tells him that she's more disgusted by the thought of papier-mache. Mr. Crane tells them that they can do art stuff for the rest of the day. Wow, how long is this day/short was that field trip?
Chapter 3 is entitled Todd's Crazy Cartoons, so I know even before reading it that it's going to be deliciously excellent. Winston is painting something, and declares that he feels like a real artist. I went a bit dyslexic there and read that as "I feel like a rapist," and now I'm even more uncomfortable than I was before. I can only imagine that in another classroom somewhere, junior John Pfeifer dies a little inside. Liz is drawing some kind of rainforest painting, and Jess declares it to be the best in the class. Caroline Pearce whines that Jess only thinks so because they're sisters. That's all Caroline does in this books. She whines. Suddenly, Jessica trips over Todd, who's sitting on the grass, and his pictures fly everywhere. He yells for the kids not to look, because he's saving them for the art show, but it's too late. Apparently junior Todd is quite the artist, a talent that he seems to lose by high school. He's drawn a picture of Mr. Crane, and one of Lila. Aww, Todd drew a picture of Lila! It's all very Jack Dawson, but...not naked. See, this is why I don't like SVK -- witty pop culture references always seem to turn into something perverted. Todd's next drawing is a caricature of Lois Waller. In it, he makes fun of both her weight and her outfit-repeating (she always wears a purple sweater) by drawing her as a bunch of grapes with a head. It even has pigtails! Oh, Todd, that's so mean. Hysterically, hysterically mean.
This is the equivalent of Mozart giving up after 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'.
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Todd's also drawn Andy (with comically large glasses) and Caroline (with a tail and a huge mouth), and all the kids laugh. Liz thinks this is all very amusing...until she sees one of herself with huge feet. Ahahaha, junior Todd has a foot fetish! Liz gets upset, and Charlie calls her Bigfoot. Really, Charlie? Of all the people to tease, you go for Elizabeth and not Sweater Grapes over there? I'm going to have to revoke one of your awesome points for that, sonny. Mr. Crane explains that Todd's drawings are called "care-i-kah-chures," because who doesn't like phonetic spelling? My Charlie Brown 'Cyclopedias were full of them. That's how I learned to correctly pronounce "Comte Med de Sivriac" and then sit around and wait to bring up Comte Med de Sivriac in conversation. I'm still waiting. Fucking Peanuts and their useless information.
That night, Jessica decides to make a princess tiara for her art project. Elizabeth still has no idea what she wants to do, but some of the things she suggests to herself include basket-weaving and chicken-wire sculpture. Seriously, Liz? You're seven -- glue some pasta on a piece of paper and call it a day. Nobody is going to let you make anything out of chicken-wire. The next day, Lila is showing off a brand-new art kit her mother sent her from Paris. She makes a big deal out of showing everyone its contents, then saying that only she and Jessica may use it. I totally buy that as something a seven-year-old would do. It's what I would've done as a kid, but I was actually kind-of a bitch, so I don't know if that's relevant. Everyone's already decided what to do for their art project, even the losers and troublemakers like Jerry and Charlie.
Liz finally decides that she's going to create a picture of a pony using macaroni. Seriously? Isn't Liz usually sooo creative? We did macaroni art in kindergarten. She thinks it's the perfect project, "something that no one else would do." You're not wrong there, Liz, but only because literally everyone else is a more creative thinker than you. I mean, Jim Sturgess is going to incorporate his rock collection in his artwork; I for one can't wait to see how that shit turns out. The macaroni picture? Not so much.
The next day, Liz is excited to get started on her art project, but before that, she gives us a detailed description of what everyone else is doing. Ah Liz, always the busybody. Amy's making a blanket for her unfortunate one-eyed bear, Andy's making a dead bug collage, and everyone's favourite oriental stereotype Kisho Murasaki is making origami. I can only imagine he's doing this while taking a bath and yelling at Holly Golightly. Lois is making footprints, and when she takes her shoes off, Winston suggests that she may in fact have foot odor. Because she's not enough of a basket-case already with the fatness and the pigtails and the one sweater. Charlie sees Lois's feet and immediately thinks of Bigfoot Elizabeth, and makes fun of her some more. Todd has the gall to look sad. Obviously he didn't realise that making cruel comments about people's appearance, even in an artistic fashion, would be so harmful. It's like he learned nothing from Harriet the Spy.
Caroline is trying in vain to make some sort of potato head doll. (Wow, I did not realise my reference to Mr. Potato Head at the beginning of the recap would be so relevant!) Suddenly, the kids all catch wind of what Liz is doing. They all fawn over her macaroni pony, and "[Liz's] heart went thumpity-thumpity-thump." Which is so not as cool as the Ping-Pong ball thing from before, but I'll deal.
Another chapter, another artsy-fartsy day at school. Winston paints a whole bunch of pictures, and the other kids are trying to guess what they are. Apparently, Winston does not exhibit the artistic talent that Todd Rembrandt over there does. Eva guesses that Winston's drawn a quilt, and Winston tells her, "That's a dog in a cage." Whoah. What kind of messed-up kid draws a dog in a cage? Unless it's supposed to be Beethoven, but that was a particularly dire point in the movie. I think if Beethoven knew he would one day have his adventures captured through art for future generations to enjoy, he probably would've preferred to be remembered for saving the little girl in the pool or dragging Mulder and Deb Barone across the backyard still on their lawn-chairs. But I digress.
Mr. Crane comes along and tells everyone that Winston's paintings are "abstract," which is just a teacher word for "shit." Winston tells them that they have no imagination. So maybe Winston is some kind of art genius, but I think I'm gonna have to stick to my original answer of "shit." Amy brags about how Liz's macaroni pony rocks the party, even though it's just freakin' macaroni stuck to a piece of construction paper. Ricky Capuldo is making a toy car garage out of matchsticks, but noooo! Let's all crowd around and fawn over Liz's stupid macaroni pony! Amateurs.
Caroline Pearce, still struggling with her potato head, shoots Liz a dirty look. Charlie laughs about how Caroline's mess is definitely abstract, and Liz offers to help her. Caroline's like, "Fuck the fuck off, Liz." Then she cries and runs out of the room. Jessica rushes over and comforts...Liz. Yeah, Liz. Never mind that Caroline just left the room in tears. She was mean to Liz! She said that she didn't want Liz's help! Oh, the humanity! Liz feels bad for the poor, untalented sap.
The next chapter is called The Macaroni Mess, which I can't help but notice is the title of the book as well. That's some real creativity right there, ghostwriter. It's the writing equivalent of macaroni art, is what that is. Anyway, it's the next day, and Mr. Crane hands out art show invitations to take home to their parents, but first, they have to decorate the front any way they want. Oh great, more art. Liz cruelly thinks, "I wondered what kind of weirdo painting Winston was going to put on his." Oh, come on. Liz, who told you it was okay to act like that? I'm doing the snarking here, missy.
Mr. Crane tells the class to come up individually and put their artworks up the front. Todd takes this time to covertly look at Liz and sketch something in his notepad. Aww, Todd. I'm truly sorry that this sensitive, tortured artist thing you've got going on in this book eventually falls by the wayside. You have no idea what you'll become! When Mr. Crane calls Caroline's name, she comes up and places a fabric doll on the display table. Everyone's super impressed, and Caroline reminds them that she made it all by herself. Stealth, Caz. Liz is like, "Bullshit she did!" but for once doesn't say anything out loud. She remembers how one time they'd sewn pillows in class (really?) and Caroline's came out all wonky. I love how Liz remembers every single mistake everyone else has ever made. Lila tells the class that her artwork isn't finished, but Jessica whispers to Liz that the real reason Lila came up empty-handed today is because she doesn't know how to use half the things in her fancy art set. Aw, Lila. As someone who literally can't draw a stick figure properly, I feel that.
At lunchtime, Elizabeth can't help but notice Todd staring at her. Todd, darling, you can't really use the whole "artist" excuse to stare at women when you're not actually drawing anything. Winston, for some reason, has brought three bananas to school. Well. Someone's going to avoid a potassium deficiency. Elizabeth falls over her big feet and right on top of them, getting mashed banana all over her jeans. She rushes into the classroom to clean herself off...and then notices that someone's ripped all the macaroni off her artwork. Gasp! It's...dare I say it...a macaroni mess! Mr. Crane pats her shoulder and tells her it'll be all right. Whoah, where did he come from? Has he been there the whole time, and if so, why did he not stop the renegade macaroni vandal? In an ironic little twist, Liz seems to find the shoulder-pat quite condescending. After all, her life is over! Her parents will come to the art show and see her crappy half-ripped non-macaroni pony picture and Todd's caricature of her with big feet. Liz, why is that still bothering you? Don't you have bigger problems right now?
Lila tells Liz that she saw Caroline leave lunch a little early, and voices her suspicions that she's the macaroni vandal. Back in the classroom, Liz yells at Caroline in front of everyone for wrecking her picture. Caroline protests that she's innocent. The whole class takes sides, although it's mostly the cool kids versus the losers. Even Lila is standing up for Liz. (It's her theory, I guess.) The boys take sides as well, and of course, Todd stands with his beloved Liz "Sideshow Bob Feet" Wakefield. Mr. Crane returns to the classroom and asks what's going on, and Liz tells him it's nothing. As if Liz doesn't tell him about Caroline's loitering. When I was seven, everyone told on each other. All kids are finks, until you get old enough to cut out the middle man and start fighting your own battles, often with hair-pulling. God, I hope this results in hair-pulling.
Mr. Crane lets the kids put the finishing touches on their art projects, and Liz sits by herself, trying in vain to glue all the broken shards of macaroni back on her torn picture. That is about the saddest thing I've ever heard, and I really don't know whether to laugh or cry. (Gonna have to go with laugh though, because hey, it's Liz.) Todd comes over and offers her some words of wisdom about her art dilemma. Oh wait, no he doesn't. That's what a normal person would do, but this is Todd we're talking about. He decides to sit next to Sadsack!Liz and bring up his stupid caricature again. Goddamnit, Todd! Just when I thought we could save you. He tells her that he only drew her with big feet because she runs really fast on the soccer field. Then he blushes and tells her that she's really good at soccer. Liz is a little happy that Todd wasn't making fun of her, then remembers how she laughed at everyone else's, even the unnecessarily cruel Grapes of Waller one, and "maybe I'd been mad because this one was about me." Well yeah, Liz, you reckon? She and Todd agree to play some reconciliatory soccer at lunch tomorrow, but then she looks down at her macaroni mess and gets all depressed again.
Liz gets home and immediately goes up to her room, slamming the door. Not even a promise of soccer with Todd can cheer her up. It must be serious. Alice comes in and says that Jess told her what happened to her picture. Liz gets really upset. Okay, in all honesty, if someone had done that to anything of mine in primary school, I would've been just as devastated. Kids can be so cruel. Alice tells Liz that she bought some more macaroni, and Jess comes out of nowhere and tells her she can use some of her glitter. Now all I can think about is the episode of Salute Your Shorts where Donkeylips ate his uncooked, bedazzled macaroni because he thought the gold paint was cheese. Using a little determination and a lot of glitter, Liz makes an even better macaroni pony! Ha! That'll show Caroline Pierce the evil artwork destroyer!
At school the next day, everyone's amped for the art show. Todd hangs up his caricatures, and asks Liz for her permission to display the one of her. He doesn't ask anyone else's permission, just Liz's. Liz agrees, saying, "My dad will get a kick out of it." Because in Sweet Valley, seven-year-olds talk like that. Bullshit they do. Plus, can you imagine the look on Lois Waller's parents' faces when they sees What's Eating Lois Grape hanging up proudly for all to see? In fact, as Todd's hanging up his drawings, Lois is watching him, looking dejected. Liz decides to save the world some more, and explains that Todd's caricatures are funny because there's a little bit of truth to them, like Liz's soccer feet. She says, "You like purple, so he drew you in purple." Actually, no, Liz. He didn't draw Lois in purple. He drew her as a giant bunch of purple grapes with an unflattering fat, ugly head on top. There's a difference. That's not a backhanded compliment like the soccer feet thing; it's just awful. So incredibly funny, but still awful.
Liz puts her new and improved macaroni pony artwork up next to Todd's bigfoot drawing, and everyone ooh's and aah's like you knew they would. Liz turns around for a second, and when she looks back, she sees Caroline about to touch her macaroni. She yells at her to stop, and Caroline insists that she wasn't trying to wreck it -- she only wanted to touch it because it looked so cool. Some advice, Caroline? If you're the prime suspect in a drive-by macaroni-ravaging, you best stay away from the replacement macaroni picture. Somehow, they get into a paint fight with Winston. Which is also very Harriet the Spy. Hmm, who knew? Mr. Crane comes in and disciplines them laughs.
Just then, Jessica realises that Petey the bird, who we've paid no attention to since the first chapter, has gotten loose somehow. He flies around the room, repeating, "Macaroni pony! Macaroni pony!" over and over again. Then he starts pecking the macaroni off Liz's picture. Aha! It was Petey the whole time! Liz apologises to Caroline for making wild accusations against her, and Caroline accepts her apology. She tells the class that she's been sneaking into the classroom to try and fix her potato head. Her mother helped her with the other, pretty doll, but she was embarrassed that everyone else was doing their art projects on their own without parental help. (That's orphan talk!) Liz tells her that she likes the freaky potato head doll, and Caroline is chuffed to have Liz Wakefield's approval. Liz offers to help her again, and this time Caroline lets her. Lila gives Caroline her art kit, which is so wildly un-Lila, but okay. I'm willing to believe that Caroline Pearce is so disgustingly pathetic that even Lila feels sorry for her.
Suddenly it's time for the art show. Alrighty, then. The parents start arriving, and Jessica shows Ned and Alice the glitter crown she's made. Ned says, "It's just perfect for you, my little princess." Liz shows them the mostly-intact macaroni pony, and Ned (presumably) says, "It's just perfect for you, my little...uh, horse..." Everyone's happy, and Ned makes a throwaway comment about how if Jess wears her crown, she might end up turning into a pumpkin like Cinderella. Which of course is just a segue for a mention of book #73, The Witch in the Pumpkin Patch. That's, uh, subtle, ghostie. Real subtle how you just slipped that in there so casually.
Before I go, I must mention that in the back of this book, there are some fun little activities. Some bitch named Amy, who apparently skipped the lesson in Beezus and Ramona about not writing all over library books, has not only (correctly) solved the maze puzzle, but she's also drawn pictures in the Elizabeth's Art Project section. Not only that, but she seems to have erased someone else's pencil drawings, and done her own in pen. If she turns out to be Amy Sutton, I won't be the least bit surprised.
The detail on the bunny is impressive, though.
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