Do you ever read a book and hope that no one asks you what it is you are reading because you would then have an awkward conversation about what it is about?
“What are you reading”
“The Awakening by Kate Chopin”
“Oh, how is it?” or “I’ve never heard of it. What is it about?”
A minute of biting lip and trying to put it in words.
Books like The Awakening I find difficult to put into words either what I feel about them or what they are about. They are in so many ways meant to be felt, not explained; examined, not judged; and digested, not devoured. I love books where the symbolism is not made up by teachers but it clearly there. As I read it, I may not understand its meaning but I see it is significant. And at the end the conversations you thought strange or unimportant come into full light. Everything is exposed, and that is it, that is the end.
And as I finished the little novel, I thought about limits. Is Edna Pontellier too aware of her limits? And as I wrote that question, a resounding “yes” echoed in my head. She dreams of being in that field that seems to go on forever as she goes on and on in the water. She knows the limits and decides to go past them.
At the beginning of the book, she lives too small a life to be aware of her limits. She has had spouts of rebellion and passion, but never ones that touched the boundaries. And everyone around her continue to live in limits without caring that there is more. Mr. Potellier’s see the world through the lens of business, even his marriage. Arobin sees the world for its shallow pleasures. Many others see the world in its social context—“people don’t do such things”. Robert is the only other one who sees a limit but does not cross it. He sees the limit and think he will be protecting Edna if he does not cross them.
I suppose that Mademoiselle Reisz lives with at least less limits. She does not do things for others unless she decides to. She does live the life of an artist, living where she wants and how she wants. But she is fine on her own.
But Edna had already joined her life with others and those others needed her. They did not need the “non-essentials” but her. She could not give that to them though, not when all she wanted was to be free.
It kind of reminds me in The Perks of Being a Wall-Flower where Charlie has moments of feeling infinite.
I have never felt infinite.
When I look into an ocean, I admire how big it is, but I do not get the feeling of it going on and on without end. It has a depth, it has a length—it can be measured. I do not see the end, but I know it is there. Nor have I ever had the desire to go too far in the ocean. It has been a very long time since I have really swam in an ocean, but I’ve always stayed where my feet can touch the bottom, where I have a floating devise, or where someone is with me.
I know my limits just like I know the ocean has limits.
And perhaps I am too aware of my limits. I am the one who enforces my limits. I even build some of my limits. If I truly practiced I could go as far as I wanted with music. But music has left a bit of a wound and the time it would take. Oh, the time. Being truly talented at anything times a tremendous amount of time. The thing is, you must decide what to by brilliant at in order to do it.
Time and passion…
