I
can’t decide whether it’s more narcissistic or more fair-mindedly self-critical
to compare oneself to novel characters, but I do it all the time, and I
increasingly reflect on if I should post my opinion on some subject or not. The last book I read was finally something I
wanted to devour (the last 5 or so were mediocre at best) although I couldn’t
identify with the characters, I felt empathy for their struggle.
So
rather than read the Ford Madox Ford's Edwardian-period novel, Parade’s End, I’ve decided to tune into the
HBO mini-series. It hadn’t held my interest
but with my stick-to-it attitude, after last night’s episode 3 (there are 5
total) I thought—finally, the carriage ride ends and I see the venture into
heart and humanity, as the perennial brew or storyline unfolds.
The
complex protagonist, Christopher Tietjens, is thoughtful, pensive, resigned,
and romantic. His outrageous wife,
Sylvia, on the other hand is courageously shrewish, and one of the most
manipulative female characters ever constructed. Tietjens is in love with Valentine Wannop, a
young suffragette. The three live in a
haphazard, combative, flashes of danger, glimmers of beauty world. It's the world seen through Tietjens's eyes —
its losses, occasional gains, romance, and, ultimately, the seismic shifts that
occurred in Britain during 1914-1916. The
war is there and obviously so are the diminishing class distinctions. But it's not a story per se about the war, or
like Downton Abbey, the social classes.
There is an almost anthropological
consideration of varied social classes and types of life living in fear of the
international sea change, which occurred in 1914. It's an encyclopedic look at
British life at its most pivotal point in the newly-dawned twentieth century. There
is no shortage of romance, wit, and a staggering amount of conscious thought. And
this is where things get interesting. Consciousness, interiority, and
psychological insight were such prevalent concepts and means of character
illustration in the twentieth century. Christopher Tietjens is a greatest
example of that; of honor, self-awareness and consciousness. The story is heavy
on impression and full of little fleeting moments. The impressions, mainly
coming from the characters, wash over you like a subtle mist of rain rather
than declare their intentions.
So
with that, reader, I ask, do you ever find yourself identifying with novel and/or
film characters?
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