Some interesting bits
I just finished reading "The Forgotten Garden" by Kate Morton. Very good book (95% good). This is not a review of the book however. There were a lot of places in the book where I said "that's an interesting point" or "that's an interesting turn of phrase." It's a testament to good writing I guess. When there is more to offer than a good plot, I find a work of fiction to be tremendously more rich. The prose should always be a primary focus--keeping in mind the balance between form and story. Anyway, while reading, I felt compelled to take note of two different passages which held special interest for me. There were many places in the book which warrented note, but these are the two which I wrote down. Nothing to do with the story you know, just...interesting bits.
Here they are.
#1: On page 46 paragraph 3 of "The Forgotten Garden," the character Cassandra reflects on the nature of art and what it means as she is about to enter an art museum in England.
I find this to be a profound commentary on what exactly we are experiencing when we are exposed to another person's artwork. I first detected this idea when I once entertained the notion that some of the artists with whom we are familiar, become our friends (in a way). For example, when I listen to a song, I am effectively experiencing the writer in a personal way. By being a patron of the arts, I gain insight into the lives of other people who I have never actually met. It's like (if not the same as) the strange phenomenon of celebrity. A famous musician is walking down the street when a complete stranger approaches to tell him/her that a particular lyric saved their life. How strange it must be that one can affect another, as a friend does, when one has never met that person.
That is what art is to me. It is a one-sidded relationship with another person. Most often, we are not granted the opportunity to give back to the artist responsible for a given work, except financially (but even that is mostly impersonal). Yet, every person who endeavors to express artistically has made the commitment to share themselves with the world. This under no guarantee of reciprocation. I would go so far as to say that artists are responsible to carry out their expression. As patrons, we are responsible for absorbing and learning from others' creations and finally, to somehow pay it forward (as they say).
However, patrons too must proceed responcibly. For we are handling nothing less than the lives of others. We should be careful to perceive the full beauty and truth in what artists portray, as well as see the full treachery and deceipt. With all of this in mind, I personally choose to choose my friends carefully. Some give credence to the old adage "keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer," but I struggle with that idea in practice. There is likely to be another post about that subject later on so, for now, I will let it lie.
As the passage from "The Forgotten Garden" says, art practically "reverberates" with the passion of the artist. This energy effectively sticks with the patron. What a privilege to experience such an exchange on either end. What a sacred and secret treasure with which humankind has been endowed.
#2: On page 349, paragraphs 8-11, I found the exchange between the characters Cassandra and Julia an interesting commentary on the relationship between story and real life. Here is the passage:
I'm sure I'm not the only person in history who seeks out and draws parallels between myself and the characters I read about and see on the screen. I think this is a perfectly natural thing to do and for that matter, essential to the experience of story. After all, what frame of reference do we have for another's story if not our own?
In clarification, I should mention that characters (fictional or otherwise) are almost never complete manifestations of the said parallels. In other words, one character from Kate Morton's book, Elisa Makepeace is not a complete picture of myself. Congruently Elisa's experiences are not my own. Yet I find pieces of this character or story which relate to me; never the whole. The connections I find in stories are a matter of essence. It is the idea, the soul of the characters' persons and situations which resonate with me. Perhaps this seems to be a declaration of common sense, but I think it is important not to take this understanding for granted.
The reason why the aforementioned deliniation is important is because the reverse side can also be problematic. We all understand that it is important for readers to realize that they are not reading their own biographies (except when they are). But not all readers (or viewers) realize the missed opportunities when they fail to connect with stories at all. For example: I am not Nick Hornby's Rob Gordon, but that ficional character has a tendency to be such a deplorable clod, that I see how my own boorish qualities could hurt those around me. Thus, a connection is born.
We learn valuable lessons in this way. Stories have such a rich ability to pass on truth, wisdom, and even meaning which social avenues cannot sustain fully. Stories fill in the gaps so to speak.
Sometimes, when experiencing a story, I not only see myself in a story, but I see a story gathering within myself. That is, my life, opinions, and beliefs can be affected--changed-- by a story. My choices are made differently because the given story has changed me somehow. Such an idea is pertinant to the above quotation from Kate Morton's book because of the mention of "stock character types." I am here reminded of some of Joseph Campbell's basic proposals; the idea that time honored myths endure because of the universal truths found in them. At least I think that is what he said (smiles). In any case, I occasionally find myself taking somewhat seriously, and examining, the re-occuring character types. I am thus attempting to decide which of them I am like and therefore, what my own story will be (or should be).
Obviously, I look at the Bible (God's Word) first, though I do not think of those scriptures as "myth" in the strictest sense. After all, I personally believe the words to be explicitly true (as in, what God wants said is there and the events really happened). It is not the same thing as when I say for example, that the adventures of the Pevinsie children in Narnia "ring true." I do not believe the events in C.S. Lewis' books actually happened, but the essence is true.
In this way, I find myself asking "Am I the Frodo or the Samwise? The Atticus or the Scout?" Even outside the bounds of fictional story I often ask those questions. I look at the people around me and wonder, what a person's story was which led them to this place in life.
Fictional or real, I ask the question, "Where then shall I take my life if the events of a story ring true?" In my limited experience, the answer is often "Nowhere." But such an answer is not fully accurate. A story might not cause me to drop everything and move in a dramatic new direction, but it may change my thinking along the way. A tale may not change me today, but it will affect my choices in the future--sometimes big choices. Sometimes, the changes will manifest beneath my awareness. Nonetheless, I do not remain the same.
The Bible's story ecourages me to "pick up your cross" and follow Him. That means a lot of different things, but I know it rings true. I am still trying to figure out what it means for me everyday.
This ends the "bits" which I thought about and to type, I way over-did it. Art and story are treasures both of which I am always thankful to God for.
Here they are.
#1: On page 46 paragraph 3 of "The Forgotten Garden," the character Cassandra reflects on the nature of art and what it means as she is about to enter an art museum in England.
"A giant mausoleum of the past. Inside, she knew, were rooms and rooms, each one full of history. Thousands of items, out of time and place, reverberating quietly with the joys and traumas of forgotten lives."
I find this to be a profound commentary on what exactly we are experiencing when we are exposed to another person's artwork. I first detected this idea when I once entertained the notion that some of the artists with whom we are familiar, become our friends (in a way). For example, when I listen to a song, I am effectively experiencing the writer in a personal way. By being a patron of the arts, I gain insight into the lives of other people who I have never actually met. It's like (if not the same as) the strange phenomenon of celebrity. A famous musician is walking down the street when a complete stranger approaches to tell him/her that a particular lyric saved their life. How strange it must be that one can affect another, as a friend does, when one has never met that person.
That is what art is to me. It is a one-sidded relationship with another person. Most often, we are not granted the opportunity to give back to the artist responsible for a given work, except financially (but even that is mostly impersonal). Yet, every person who endeavors to express artistically has made the commitment to share themselves with the world. This under no guarantee of reciprocation. I would go so far as to say that artists are responsible to carry out their expression. As patrons, we are responsible for absorbing and learning from others' creations and finally, to somehow pay it forward (as they say).
However, patrons too must proceed responcibly. For we are handling nothing less than the lives of others. We should be careful to perceive the full beauty and truth in what artists portray, as well as see the full treachery and deceipt. With all of this in mind, I personally choose to choose my friends carefully. Some give credence to the old adage "keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer," but I struggle with that idea in practice. There is likely to be another post about that subject later on so, for now, I will let it lie.
As the passage from "The Forgotten Garden" says, art practically "reverberates" with the passion of the artist. This energy effectively sticks with the patron. What a privilege to experience such an exchange on either end. What a sacred and secret treasure with which humankind has been endowed.
#2: On page 349, paragraphs 8-11, I found the exchange between the characters Cassandra and Julia an interesting commentary on the relationship between story and real life. Here is the passage:
"Life'd be a lot easier if it were like a fairy tale," said Cassandra, "if people belonged to stock character types."
"Oh, but people do, they only think they don't. Even the person who insists such things don't exist is a cliche: the drear pedant who insists on his own uniqueness!"
Cassandra took a sip of wine. "You don't think there's any such thing as uniqueness?"
"We're all unique, just never in the ways we imagine." Julia smiled, then waved her hand, bangles clattering. "Listen to me. What a dreadful absolutist I am. Of course there are variations in character."
I'm sure I'm not the only person in history who seeks out and draws parallels between myself and the characters I read about and see on the screen. I think this is a perfectly natural thing to do and for that matter, essential to the experience of story. After all, what frame of reference do we have for another's story if not our own?
In clarification, I should mention that characters (fictional or otherwise) are almost never complete manifestations of the said parallels. In other words, one character from Kate Morton's book, Elisa Makepeace is not a complete picture of myself. Congruently Elisa's experiences are not my own. Yet I find pieces of this character or story which relate to me; never the whole. The connections I find in stories are a matter of essence. It is the idea, the soul of the characters' persons and situations which resonate with me. Perhaps this seems to be a declaration of common sense, but I think it is important not to take this understanding for granted.
The reason why the aforementioned deliniation is important is because the reverse side can also be problematic. We all understand that it is important for readers to realize that they are not reading their own biographies (except when they are). But not all readers (or viewers) realize the missed opportunities when they fail to connect with stories at all. For example: I am not Nick Hornby's Rob Gordon, but that ficional character has a tendency to be such a deplorable clod, that I see how my own boorish qualities could hurt those around me. Thus, a connection is born.
We learn valuable lessons in this way. Stories have such a rich ability to pass on truth, wisdom, and even meaning which social avenues cannot sustain fully. Stories fill in the gaps so to speak.
Sometimes, when experiencing a story, I not only see myself in a story, but I see a story gathering within myself. That is, my life, opinions, and beliefs can be affected--changed-- by a story. My choices are made differently because the given story has changed me somehow. Such an idea is pertinant to the above quotation from Kate Morton's book because of the mention of "stock character types." I am here reminded of some of Joseph Campbell's basic proposals; the idea that time honored myths endure because of the universal truths found in them. At least I think that is what he said (smiles). In any case, I occasionally find myself taking somewhat seriously, and examining, the re-occuring character types. I am thus attempting to decide which of them I am like and therefore, what my own story will be (or should be).
Obviously, I look at the Bible (God's Word) first, though I do not think of those scriptures as "myth" in the strictest sense. After all, I personally believe the words to be explicitly true (as in, what God wants said is there and the events really happened). It is not the same thing as when I say for example, that the adventures of the Pevinsie children in Narnia "ring true." I do not believe the events in C.S. Lewis' books actually happened, but the essence is true.
In this way, I find myself asking "Am I the Frodo or the Samwise? The Atticus or the Scout?" Even outside the bounds of fictional story I often ask those questions. I look at the people around me and wonder, what a person's story was which led them to this place in life.
Fictional or real, I ask the question, "Where then shall I take my life if the events of a story ring true?" In my limited experience, the answer is often "Nowhere." But such an answer is not fully accurate. A story might not cause me to drop everything and move in a dramatic new direction, but it may change my thinking along the way. A tale may not change me today, but it will affect my choices in the future--sometimes big choices. Sometimes, the changes will manifest beneath my awareness. Nonetheless, I do not remain the same.
The Bible's story ecourages me to "pick up your cross" and follow Him. That means a lot of different things, but I know it rings true. I am still trying to figure out what it means for me everyday.
This ends the "bits" which I thought about and to type, I way over-did it. Art and story are treasures both of which I am always thankful to God for.
posted by Your humble servant at 6:24 PM
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