rennaissance painters: what is a baby? a small man?
every time i see this post it’s accompanied by a different horrifying painted man baby
In the Detroit Museum of Art there’s a neat room where they have paintings from the 14th, 15th, and 16th centuries along with plaques explaining the transition in European art from “manbaby” to an actual, somewhat realistic child.
According to those plaques, society’s general feeling about children was that they were sinful, cruel, unchristian things which had to be taught how to act like their betters, the adults. Because of this, the people paying for portraits of their children generally requested that the children be given the appearance of an adult, so that they would be visually associated with being a kind and proper individual. As we progressed out of the Byzantine era people’s opinions changed and the innocence of youth was seen as a desirable thing, so the depiction of children shifted to make them appear more cherubic.
… Though the article covers a broader time period and therefore explains more about how the Medieval period caused society to think up something as weird as a “Manbaby” in the first place.
“My baby is more well-behaved than yours, Bartholomew. Just look at him. He has an eight-pack.”
-Get hyperfocused and obnoxiously clinical about the community garden. Measures the water with a graduated cylinder. Keeps detailed reports of each plant’s growth. Accidentally names a few after classical philosophers and rap artists. Jade paints him little signs for his favorites. Rose throws him a small, ironic funeral when Plato and Tupac get trampled on a particularly windy day.
-Come to the earth-shattering conclusion that he’s really, really terrible at sports. Like, holy shit. It’s bad. His mind tries to cross-calculate applied force and windspeed and height and arc and – oh look, Jake has scored a goal again.
-Be co-captain of the scientific board championing the movement to figure out if Carapaces have dicks.
-Absolutely destroy Dave in a rap battle. Meanwhile Rose is studying gothic poetry with a sick beat playing in the background, plotting revenge for her brother’s honor.
-Somehow convince John that he subsisted entirely off of Gushers when he was a child. Because that shit doesn’t go bad, John. I was a meek, starving kid stranded in the post-apocalypse. I’m not proud of it – but I did what I had to do with what I could do. John looks a bit queasy and gives Dirk an extra big portion when it’s his turn to cook dinner.
-Awkwardly sidestep every parental, comforting hug Roxy, Jane, and Dad try to give him. They’re getting desperate. Dirk has a conspiracy theory they’re all in cahoots to finally corner him.
-Alpha kid cuddle piles ft. Calliope. Though this one goes without saying.
If you “couldn’t stand life with an autistic child” or “don’t have the patience to deal with an autistic child” then maybe don’t.ever.have.kids.
If you aren’t willing to love and care for your child unconditionally, then you really shouldn’t be raising kids.
I will take it a step further, and I mean this with all of my heart:
If you (generic you) decide to bring a child into this world, you owe them unconditionallove and care. This is not optional. This is not something you give or withdraw depending on the child’s compliance, performance, configuration, sexuality, gender identity, grades, room cleanliness, etc. You owe them love. You owe them care. You owe them support. You decided to bring them into this world, you owe them. It is your obligation and your responsibility.
(This is exactly why I believe that choice is important and that forced or coerced motherhood is really fucking wrong.)
