they work mass violence and destruction.rnEven in the abstract sequence at the beginning, in whichrnBach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor (by coincidence derrnFilhrer means the fugue theme) play, images of mass movementsrnthat threaten and overwhelm take shape as visual equivalentsrnto the music. These movements continue in the Dinosaurrnsequence set to Le sacre du printemps, which depictsrnbattle and mass destruction, both in inanimate and animaternnature. Le sacre du printemps had gone in one generationrnfrom being a public scandal to serving as a cartoon accompaniment.rnBut Disney chose the music well, for the prophecy ofrndeath and re-creation in the music had been lived out in thernGreat War and was continuing in the Great War, Part II. Thernthreats of mass movements and mass death in Europe lurkrndisquietingly below the surface of the images of mass extinctionrnamong the dinosaurs. The columns of dinosaurs in therndeath march are eerily reminiscent of the columns of Belgianrnrefugees in the Movietone newsreel.rnIn almost all of his movies, Disney is fascinated by loss andrndeath (this extends from the death of Bambi’s mother tornsmall-scale images of bursting bubbles and of leaves spiralingrnaway in the wind); still he structures Fantasia as a tragicomedy.rnThe thunderstorm sequence to Beethoven’s PastoralrnSympJiony presents us with danger under the control ofrnsemibenevolent deities with a comic bent. The comedy modulatesrninto farce in the inspired silliness of the Dance of thernHours. Classical ballet, realm of the impresario and massrnchoral movement, bears a certain resemblance in a very nonthreateningrnway to totalitarian movements. To replace therndancers with gawky ostriches, overweight hippos, and dashingrnalligators was a stroke of genius. The him concludes by settingrnthe classic symbols of Good and Evil against each other inrnthe juxtaposition of Night on Bald Mountain and Schubert’srnAve Maria.rnBut is Mickey Mouse a fascist? Does Fantasia support orrnundermine the Fiihrerprinzip? Does it belong with Triumphrnof the Will, or with the Ducktators? What is the relationshiprnof art, particularly art that caricatures or stereotypes,rnto the thing that it in some way represents? The recent reportrnto the AAUW from the Wellesley College Center for Researchrnon Women raises objections to school textbooks’ stereotypingrnof women and girls, apparently both as a contributing factor tornwomen’s low levels of self-confidence and as a gloss-over of thernreal problems facing women. But the objections seem to bernnot that women are stereotyped as such-and-such, but thatrnthey are stereotyped at all. By “stereotypes” the report seemsrnto mean “generalizations,” and even as such, something forbiddenrn(or as the new verbal code would have it, “inappropriate”).rnIs all generalization, then, politically incorrect? Surely of allrnforms of generalization, caricature is the most precarious, thernmost prone to be used for immoral purposes, for dehumanizationrnof the caricatured victim. Effective caricature is amusingrnbecause it shares the incongruity of all humor. The incongruityrnconsists in abstracting a few typical or stereotypicalrnfeatures from a concrete person or group of persons. The isolationrnand exaggeration of those features becomes the focus,rnindeed the locus of the humor. It points up folly; it reveals unfortunaterntruth. It is a form of play, but therefore necessarilyrna form of struggle, a wrestling with reality that occasionallyrnends in a pratfall. Is play forbidden? No wonder Punch isrndead. Lest we take ourselves too seriously, caricature of the selfrnrecommends itself to us all—we should be well supplied withrnhumor.rnBut what about caricature of others? Here the relationshiprnof art to life is more complex and depends on intent, whichrnnecessarily factors an element of morality into the equation.rnThe same caricature can be blameless or quite the opposite,rndepending on how it is used. Take the ease of another film, arncartoon of a sort, though not an animated one: Jacques Feyder’srnwonderful 1935 farce La Kermesse heroique. The story isrnset in 17th-century Flanders under the Regents; the officials ofrna small village are terror-stricken at the prospect of the Spanishrncommander-in-chief’s overnight billeting in their town asrnhe passes through with his army. The mayor, and in fact allrnthe men of the town, go into hiding. Pretending to be recentlyrndeceased, the mayor chalks his face and lays himselfrnout in state, while his couneilmen keep solemn vigil. Meanwhile,rnoutraged by their husbands’ cowardliness, therntownswomen march out to greet the visiting duke and makernaccommodations for the temporary occupation. Some provernvery accommodating indeed.rnArt generalizes. The artist aims at recognition,rnat the moment when the viewer says “Aha” andrnunderstands what the artist is representing. Torndo so, he must generahze. Generalizations,rnstock types, folk and fairy-tale heroes andrnheroines, stereotypes, caricatures, beauties andrnbeasts are but markers on a continuum. If wernban generalization on the grounds that it mayrnbe used immorally, we ban all art. Artrnnecessarily abstracts something from reality.rnThe resulting situation is delicious: stereotypes are turnedrnon their heads; the women take the men’s traditional rolesrnwhile the men take the women’s. The occupying army is alternatelyrnsentimental, effete, rowdy, and ultimately benevolent.rnThrough it all the characters slip in and out of tableaux vivantsrnof famous Dutch and Flemish paintings: the indignantrntown council mutters together around a carpeted table in thernposes of Rembrandt’s Syndics of the Draper’s Guild; theirrnwives, equally indignant, forge their countermove posed asrnHals’ Regentesses. The mayor, spying out his wife’s suspectedrninfidelity, parodies the imposing central figure of the NightrnWatch. His wife, fresh from the Duke’s embraces, stands inrnthe attitude and dress of one of Vermeer’s models of domesticrnvirtue. Not only does the film continue the venerable Flemishrnliterary and artistic tradition of the world turned upside-down,rnit turns the great art of the Low Countries topsy-turvy to addrnto the fun.rnThe film’s fate in later years, however, strikes a chillingrnnote. In the occupied France of 1941, Feyder’s film was wide-rnMARCH 1993/23rnrnrn