Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Musings on The Road: My Story of Sadness and Beauty

Several nights ago, my husband and I were sorting through the Video On Demand movie options, trying to predict which film would best entertain us. I have several on my short list (Alice in Wonderland, The Blind Side, Broken Embraces, etc.), but, as I expected, they aren’t really “guy” material, or at the very least, they weren’t my hubby’s first choices. The last time we sat down together to watch a new movie, my husband, Chopin, had the privilege of making the final decision (The Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day), so I knew I slightly held the upper hand for this night’s pick.


“How about The Road?” I suggested. “I think you’ll like it.” I had finished Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic novel back in January, and was anxious to see its interpretation on screen, especially with Viggo Mortenson (Strider!) as the leading man. And, despite the self-interest imbibed within my proposition, I really did think Chopin would enjoy the film. He had enjoyed watching No Country for Old Men, however much it unsettled him, so I figured this flick would be right up his alley. Chopin went with it.

Well, I just loved the movie. Obviously, it rearranged and edited aspects of the novel, but I think it brilliantly captured the desperately haunting atmosphere, the characters’ intensely honest emotions, and the beautiful love families are capable of sharing. These are just a couple of leaves from the entire tree; I could go on and on about how successful I think the movie is. It actually makes me like the book even more because I think it helped me better understand McCarthy’s intentions on a deeper lever (though most aspects of the work(s) are still floating around in my brain, unable to completely take shape). I love it when separate art forms can help each other out, when they make each other shine brighter. A big thumbs up for me, including the countless crying episodes and all.

Unlike his wife, Chopin had not read The Road before viewing it in its film form, so, unsurprisingly, he was a bit unnerved after being lambasted with it. “That was the saddest movie I’ve ever seen.” Huh? Really? I mean, you’ve seen a ton of war movies; this was sadder than Platoon? “Really?” I asked. “It was a great movie,” Chopin reassured me, “but it was just really depressing.” Well, yes, I had to agree; part of the movie is sad and depressing, which is why I had a little sobfest throughout it. But, at the same time, I think it distresses us because it moves us so deeply. In other words, because The Road addresses the love and goodness existent within dire, catastrophic circumstances, the work can definitely be described as sad and depressing, but also beautifully hopeful. Yes, the world’s environment has gone to hell, families are viciously torn a part, and children are left frightened without their parents, but at the same time, the goodness, love, courtesy, and generosity that persist create a higher level of magnificence and meaning. I know some don’t see it this way; I think Chopin does more so, though, after time allowed his initial reaction to settle. Regardless, McCarthy gives us a story that is ultimately real: one that is tortured as much as it is splendid. This excerpt from the novel, one that depicts one of the many conversations shared between the boy and his father, helps expound upon this point:


“[Man] Why dont you tell me a story?

[Boy] I dont want to.

Okay.

I dont have any stories to tell.

You could tell me a story about yourself.

You already know all the stories about me. You were there.

You have stories inside I dont know about.

You mean like dreams?

Like dreams. Or just things that you think about.

Yeah, but stories are supposed to be happy.

They dont have to be.

You always tell happy stories.

You dont have any happy ones?

They’re more like real life.

But my stories are not.

Your stories are not. No.

The man watched him. Real life is pretty bad?

What do you think?

Well, I think we’re still here. A lot of bad things have happened but we’re still here.

Yeah.

You dont think that’s so great.

It’s okay.”


McCarthy illustrates that “real life” stories need to be told, even if they aren’t initially perceived as “happy ones.” So, maybe this story isn’t happy, but it’s definitely beautiful. Must beauty coexist with happiness, or can they operate separately? I think they can exist separately from each other, despite all of the “bad things” surrounding beauty. Okay, I’m going to stop the philosophizing right now, before I become completely incoherent. Anyway, after reading and viewing The Road, I am confronted with my own story—something I think McCarthy aims to do to his audience with his text. How am I existing within the world right now, with all of the good and bad within it? How am I preparing for the future of my story, and of my children’s (the future’s) story? For indeed, sadness, destruction, and violence—all things that are “bad”—pervade our world, but in order to temper it, it is our job to recognize, encourage, and create beauty—the love and goodness that’s definitely possible within us, so that our world is more than just “okay.”

3 comments:

  1. beautiful thoughts! i think you've brilliantly touched on a major conflict between art and audiences these days - not every story has to be happy or feel-good. i guess it depends on what you see to be entertained, and what you see to be enlightened, or, to experience an artist's certain perspective. i respect mccarthy's brave endeavors towards artistic honesty - that impulse is becoming less and less popular these days and that's what's depressing to me, not the subject matter he's commenting on or trying to get us to think about.

    and i don't have any knowledge of the book or film, but the little part you excerpted shows that parts of the story are a little hopeful, just in a different way than most people expect. and most people don't like what they don't expect! i find the unexpected perspectives fascinating and the most illuminating, and thanks to you and mccarthy for helping to make this happen!!

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  2. Just want to say that your post made me think differently about The Road. It wasn't that it was "depressing" that bothered me. In fact I get the most pleasure from books that shake me or tear my heart out. What bothered me (SPOILER) was the fact that the mom committed suicide (seemed a bit sexist?). And, I don't have a good relationship with my dad--spending the apocalypse with any one of my family members actually sounds pretty terrifying. I did like how the book explores the good and bad capable in all of us, eventually saying that even if the sun burns up and we slowly die, there is hope and compassion in the world that can make surviving that bit easier.

    Too often it seems the world (and me) spend too much time on the negatives because they seem to be more prominent than the positives, but it's the positive that will make living worth it.

    To comment on happiness and beauty-- if it is as Keats said "truth is beauty," then we can find beauty in the ugly truths of the world around us. Or at least find the small beauties that exist within the ugliness. Like Schindler's deeds in the holocaust, if that makes sense....

    Thanks again for your profundity!

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  3. Megan: thank you for your reassuring comments! I sometimes question why I'm so drawn to "depressing" stuff, but your words make me feel less "strange," if that's the right word.

    W: Oh, thank you for mentioning Keats! I couldn't have said it better. And your words about the wife in The Road made me think, as well. I think McCarthy could be sexist by having her commit suicide; it's definitiely a possibility. Some part of me always wants to hope that that isn't the case, that authors aren't so near-sighted, so maybe there are some other reasons qualifying her actions. If you think about it, one of the worst things that can happen to a child is having his mother (voluntarily) leave him; typically it's the other way around: usually the father leaves, and the mother stays with her child. Instances of the book and the movie reveal that she really does love him (her son), but after years of struggling, she just can't take it anymore. So, maybe McCarthy is emphasizing again how difficult and terrible the boy and his father's circumstances are, and how easy it would be to just give up and die. I don't know. It just seems like McCarthy is heightening the despair by having the mother absent, and not the father, because the mother's abandonment is not typical, so it makes things that much worse. Subsequently, the boy and man's will to live must be even stronger; they must fight even harder to survive because it's so tempting to just give up. Or, McCarthy could just be sexist. Hmmmmm. And there's something about having a father-son relatinship that I think is important to the novel, or maybe a man/boy relationship. There's a reason he doesn't signify them with specific names, so maybe having the mother/woman out of the picture allows the story to focus on boy and man in the realm of time and space, and not boy and woman, which would put a whole other element in the mix. The boy will, after all, (assumedly) grow up to be a man.

    Thanks for your comments!

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