A literature for consolation
In today’s blog, I would like to talk about the theme of 'a literature for consolation'. What I mean by this, is that, sometimes within a text, literary devices are used as a way to seek consolation. Think, narrative justice - when it is the narrative that brings about the justice, not written in like the human law, judicial system. But sometimes it is not just used by the author to bring about consolation for the readers. Sometimes characters within the text would also use the imagination and literature to comfort themselves. When it is used for the readers, it doesn’t necessarily mean a happy ending, but that there are parts in the text that function sort of like a maxim, where the reader can relate to the human condition that the text evokes. This, I feel, is an extension of the idea of “literature as a currency” or “stories as currency”, where through narrative one buys consolation. Furthermore, the type of text I will be looking at will be the type of text that functions at two levels: it gives comfort for the characters while simultaneously offering a consolation for the readers.
So, today I will be exploring this idea a bit through three main books “Atonement” by Ian McEwan, “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” by Edward Albee and “Nausea” by Jean Paul Sartre and I’ll be also mentioning ‘Shutter Island’ directed by Scorsese and starring Leonardo DiCaprio. *Spoiler*
“Truth or illusion?”
One of the characteristics when it comes to this function of literature within the text is the blending of time, or blending imagination and reality. Sometimes, it is stated quite evidently by the character within the text or it becomes a revelation at the end.
This ‘blending’ can also be a device in gothic terror because it turns the character into an unreliable narrator, which is a trope. In a way, there is similarity between these texts for consolation and the gothic genre in terms of style - specifically the ones that focus on human psychology. But what differs between them is that the ‘blending’ in the gothic writing is employed to evoke terror, whereas the ‘blending’ in this literature- that I’ll nickname- literature for consolation, is employed to console the narrator and simultaneously the reader. It is thus more of a catharsis, of tragedy. Although, sometimes it does borderline with terror with its sometimes evocative uncanny.
A lot of these texts, the narrator/characters use(s)- often quite conscious of it - the imaginary narrative in order to cope with something they have done. Simultaneously, at times it gives consolation to the reader because it reflects the same tendencies that we do in real life in order to cope: make stories, tell ourselves things. This makes it rather metaphysical.
For instance, in ‘Atonement’ by McEwan, the character ‘Briony’ turns out to be the author of the text on the previous pages; and that it was like a semi-autobiographical piece of her life, retelling her “crime” in order to atone for it. Here, she has quite deliberately uses her imagination and put an innocent man behind bar, and breaks her family apart. Retelling is almost like reliving. Retelling is to put things into order, and order is justice. Hence Briony uses “the power to conjure” literature to console her regret, to console her guilt and to console her “controlling demon” that wouldn’t let go of the “chaos” that she has ensued. But above all, her reason is that she has done some justice for the person who was wrongly convicted: that it is “a final act of kindness, a stand against oblivion and despair” and to give “happiness” to those she has done wrong. The way the act is described in this rather heroic tone, it evokes a certain human condition: regret and how to overcome it. It reminds us of what we often turn to when facing a regret: to retell it, to confess. As a result, it is almost like an act of atonement, to echo back the title of the novel.
Similarly, in Albee's “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”, the two married couple, Martha and George, conjure up a son as a reaction to them being infertile, and perhaps social expectation. Thus it is used to fill up a gap, a longing. Moreover, it could be seen as a way to protect themselves, the imaginary child being a “bean bag”, a defence mechanism, used to insult one another without having to deal with their own flaws: a concretised abstract that can bend to their own desire. Similarly, in this play, in the final act, Martha alleges that George has used his own pass to write a novel about a boy who ‘accidentally’ killed his parents; “killed his mother with a shotgun" and killed his father by accidentally “swerved into a porcupine” - the intention is never revealed, or if it is even the truth - which is revealing since he has just told the same story but instead him being the protagonist, only a bystander in Act 2. This suggests therefore, if this is indeed the case, then the fact that he switched his role could be a coping mechanism. He then ends the fictional story in Act 2 by saying that the boy “was put in an asylum” and “he...has...not... uttered... one... sound” since. The drawn out length of the sentence could have been just for suspense, but it could reflect George’s own traumatic reaction to his past. Moreover, if this is indeed the truth, then perhaps it explains why George no longer has the "guts" and couldn’t win the “boxing match” with Martha: the violence against his parents, his loved one was too much. The disappearance of the boy, is the disappearance of the dark side of George.
This utilisation of fiction and literature to cope with regret and even murderous acts, is also demonstrated in the film adaption of ‘Shutter Island’, directed by Scorcesee and starring Leonardo DiCaprio. This story follows Teddy Daniels played by DiCaprio, a marshall who is on an investigation at ‘Shutter Island’ an isolated mental institution for the criminally insane, to find a missing patient. It turns out at the end that Teddy is in fact the real missing patient, and everyone was just playing along in this elaborate hoax. This was done by a doctor as a way to help the patient realise the reality: if the patient play it out as they wanted and see that it isn’t real, would come to the eventual realisation and get better. So, they all played within the story created by ‘Teddy’. Here fiction not only comforts and protects ‘Teddy’ from the harsh reality that he has killed his wife and indirectly his children, because he didn’t get his manic depressed wife help, and leads to his wife killing his drowning children, but also as a medical treatment: fiction or literature is a sort of medicine. Literature allows us to sympathise with Teddy’s remorse - or his version of remorse - creating an elaborate narrative to shield him away from the truth that “‘tis the refuge we take when the unreality of the world weighs too heavy on out tiny heads” - to borrow from Martha in WAOVW.
In ‘Nausea' by Jean-Paul Sartre, the narrator confesses that his memories are all quite unreliable, they are all fragments that are only dictated and given meaning by the ‘present self’: “I build memories with my present self.” Unlike 'WAOVW' or ‘Atonement’ and ‘Shutter Island’, literature doesn’t comfort the protagonist against the crime he committed: it comforts himself of his existence. Throughout the novel, he returns to trying to define what an “adventure” consists of, and how to record the “past”, saying that such terms are quite like luxury items. He struggles with the meaning of words, of thoughts, and since thoughts constitute existence, he struggles to cope with the reality of existing: ”I exist because I think”. Yet all of it seems to “disgust” him. At the end, he resolves to write a novel, hoping it would help him find a solution.
All of these instances, we can see how narrative is used as a coping mechanism, often a fictional narrative which isn’t new: delusions, illusions are well used words in context of seeking comfort and seeking refuge - maybe, in lies? Deliberately lying to ourselves to feel safe. But is this always the case? Not always. Yes, sometimes it is the case. But in these instances that I have shown you, it is not as simple as that. I think the perfect quote that encapsulates this need for narrative fabrication for moral redemption is expressed by Teddy’s last words: “to live as a monster, or to die as a good man?” What separates these instances from the usual delusion is its function in redeeming our morals. All of the characters here, most of the time recognise that this is a lie. Yet they choose deliberately to follow it, and we can sympathise with them. Moreover, and this comes to the term “literature for consolation” is that these texts and films are a way for us to find consolation, to feel empathy, to project our own experiences in order to find solace. And here is a quote from an article by the Tate on the “Pleasure of Sadness” in regards to Edward Hopper’s paintings: to experience these literature is “to witness an echo of our own griefs and disappointments, and thereby to feel less personally persecuted and beset by them” - which I think is applicable here with the literary examples I have given. Especially in the case of ‘Nausea’ which is about the general state of existence itself, without any real legal crime being committed, but perhaps a social crime of the time: isolation.
What are the consequences?
Of course, however, there are times where using literature to comfort can lead to a problem.
Briony in ‘Atonement’ still did use her imagination to condemn an innocent man to prison, and led to the misfortunes of her sister. In ‘Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf’, the “child” is nothing but quite a “bean bag”, used by Martha and George to insult one another and make accusations: a weapon of their “total war”. In ‘Shutter Island’ Teddy did kill his wife, and he is the most violent patient in the facility, and responsible for the misfortune of one of the inmates. In ‘Nausea’ though the main protagonist has committed no real legal crime, his “disgust” towards many things in society, at times leads to unproductive spite.
To what extent, should we sympathise with them? To what extent should they be considered by the reader or viewer as sympathetic characters and forgiven for their crimes, to be given a second chance? Since it is not always the case that we do that, right?
Sometimes, it is quite close to being mere excuses like Raskolnikov in ‘Crime and Punishement’, who uses political and sociological literature to justify his crime, to avoid facing his truth, which hinders his redemption. Which leads me to the question: can you ever redeem even under fictional fabrication? Has Briony really atoned for her crime? By creating a fictional alternative to the real ending? One could argue that our opinion is irrelevant as long as she believes in her words and that her family forgives her, she has redeemed. Which leads me then to the final potential problem: losing touch with reality.
Like in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf”, Martha seemed to have really lost touch with reality, when she began to really talk about “the child” as if it really existed, by talking about it to others. Also, in most of these cases, we only have to take the narrator’s or particular character’s words to know about the other characters: stories and views are left suspended in the air, and of course this wouldn’t be a problem if we suspend disbelief. But this shows that literature can both provide relief, provide some certainty while simultaneously creating new uncertainties.
Conclusion:
Nevertheless, the power for consolation is there, and these examples show literature can play an important role in our mental well being. And the fact that all of us can take these at times as some sort of maxim, shows that these literature, these fictional writing/ movies can shed light on some truth. And this is a paradox for another day.
Podcast
You guys can also check out the podcast version here:
https://anchor.fm/annsannotations/episodes/A-Literature-for-Consolation-ei3f9m/a-a2nb11c
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