A Wrinkle in Time and Prairie Vous Francais

Have you seen the trailer for Ava DuVernay’s adaptation of A Wrinkle In Time?

Looks great, doesn't it?!

I read the book as a kid and remember being struck by Mrs. Murray being a chemist and her daughter, Meg, being a mathematical savant, but I didn’t remember too much else about it all these years later. So, while bedridden with the flu earlier this week, I reread Madeleine L’Engle’s 1962 children’s classic .

As I read, I was feeling very heavy - sinus headache exploding my face, sleeping all the time, muscles and joints aching. But revisiting this blink of my childhood was a light, bright spot in my convalescence.

I was particularly enamored of Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which, the trio of guardians who appear near the Murrays’ home in order to take Meg, her brother Charles Wallace, and their new friend Calvin through a wrinkle in time in order to arrive on the planet where Mr. Murray is being held captive. These magical ladies look like this in the movie:

In the book, though, they appear (at least initially) much more frumpy (if just as eccentric). Mrs. Whatsit is practically a pile of clothes: she’s wrapped in bedsheets, millions of randomly patterned scarves, and rubber galoshes. Mrs. Who’s eyeglasses are three times as thick as our heroine Meg’s glasses are.

Mrs. Which’s appearance can’t be called “frumpy,” since she barely has an appearance at all. I love this description of the way that Miss Which manifests:

“There was a faint gust of wind, the leaves shivered in it, the patterns of moonlight shifted, and in a circle of silver, something shimmered, quivered, and the voice said, ‘I ddo nott thinkk I willl matterrialize commpletely. I ffindd itt verry ttirinngg, andd wee hhave mmuch ttoo doo” (63)

As it turns out, this trio is so intriguing because they used to be stars. As in celestial orbs, not celebrities. After they show the children a “star giving up its life in battle with the Thing” (the dark mass of evil that currently threatens Mr. Murray, as well as planet Earth), the trio of Mrs. seem exhausted and sad. The ever-insightful Charles Wallace says to Mrs. Whatsit, “I see. Now I understand. You were a star once, weren’t you? [...] And you did--you did what that star just did?” (103). Noble stars, these gals.

These fascinating star-women brought to mind the sparkliest, shimmeriest beer that I’ve tasted in months: Prairie Vous Francais from Prairie Artisan Ales in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

Our head brewer at Hop Farm Brewing Company, where I beertend, brought out a bomber of Prairie Vous towards the end of a shift a few weeks ago. (See, it’s not just me who’s been on a Belgian/French kick lately (see my two previous entries) - it’s the universe itself bringing these kinds of ales into my life.)

My initial reaction was, “So super sparkly! Bubbles!” Just like Mrs. Which: a silvery gold shimmer. It tickles the tongue as soon as it hits your palate. In the glass, its bubbles whirl through a golden straw appearance, twinkling. At only 3.9% ABV, its effervescence matches it’s easy drinking. Perfect for a light read like children’s lit. There’s just a hint of hay in the nose, floating awaft of the bubbles. The brettanomyces bruxellanois keep it wild and funky, a perfect echo of L’Engle’s stereotype-defying female characters, especially the Mrs. Which, Who, and Whatsit.

I hope DuVernay’s women are as wild and bubbly as L’Engle sets them up to be, and that these Hollywood stars can do justice to L’Engle’s former celestial ones. I highly recommend revisiting the book (it's a super-quick read). If you do, track down a Prairie Vous Francais to sip while you turn the pages. Or keep one in the fridge until the movie comes out on DVD. Or both.