“The Paper Menagerie” defines true art by contrasting it with mere consumer items. When the main character Jack is young, his mother folds him paper animals out of leftover Christmas wrapping paper. She brings the animals to life by blowing into them, a skill she learned from her own mother back in China. Much later, after Jack’s mother has died, Jack’s girlfriend Susan finds the paper animals and declares that Jack’s mother was “an amazing artist.” The story contrasts Jack’s paper animals with an Obi-Wan Kenobi action figure belonging to Jack’s childhood neighbor Mark. Mark fails to appreciate the paper animals, calling them “trash.” When Jack’s paper tiger Laohu jumps on the Obi-Wan Kenobi action figure and breaks it, Mark tears up Laohu and begins bullying Jack. Later, Jack gives Mark a new Obi-Wan Kenobi action figure to substitute for the one broken. By contrasting the magical paper animals with the inert action figure, “The Paper Menagerie” suggests that real art is in some sense alive, whereas consumer items are dead; real art is created by an individual artist, whereas consumer items are mass produced; and real art is irreplaceable, whereas consumer items can be replaced.
Art vs. Consumer Items ThemeTracker
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Art vs. Consumer Items Quotes in The Paper Menagerie
A little paper tiger stood on the table, the size of two fists placed together. The skin of the tiger was the pattern on the wrapping paper, white background with red candy canes and green Christmas trees.
[…]
“Zhe jiao zhezhi,” Mom said. This is called origami.
Mark, one of the neighborhood boys, came over with his Star Wars action figures. Obi-Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber lit up and he could swing his arms and say, in a tinny voice, “Use the Force!” I didn’t think the figure looked much like the real Obi-Wan at all.
Together, we watched him repeat this performance five times on the coffee table. “Can he do anything else?” I asked.
Mark was annoyed by my question. “Look at all the details,” he said.
I looked at the details. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say.
Mark grabbed Laohu and his snarl was choked off as Mark crumpled him in his hand and tore him in half. He balled up the two pieces of paper and threw them at me. “Here’s your stupid cheap Chinese garbage.”
Dad bought me a full set of Star Wars action figures. I gave the Obi-Wan Kenobi to Mark.
I packed the paper menagerie in a large shoe box and put it under the bed.
Susan found the shoe box in the attic. The paper menagerie, hidden in the uninsulated darkness of the attic for so long, had become brittle, and the bright wrapping paper patterns had faded.
“I’ve never seen origami like this,” Susan said. “Your mom was an amazing artist.”
The paper animals did not move. Perhaps whatever magic had animated them stopped when Mom died. Or perhaps I had only imagined that these paper constructions were once alive. The memory of children could not be trusted.