My take on The Age of Innocence

I finished The Age of Innocence yesterday night amidst the flurry of haircuts, errands and exercising. It was inevitable, though, when I reached page 250 in the early afternoon. There's no way I'd wait another day to complete the last 50 pages of a book - well, unless the book were less than 150 pages.

Anyway, many thoughts, many questions, many reflections to take to heart, and I shall share them here for now!

What I admire most about Wharton's construction of this novel is her way of illuminating the weaknesses on both ends of the story. We'd be so quick to judge the people of high society New York of being close-minded, old-fashined prudes who care only for preserving their supposedly impeccable social traditions and standards. And that's completely understandable considering the type of world we live in today, a world that wants instant gratification (forgive the platitude), independence and and to be unique. Having to follow the stifling cultural standards of Newland Archer's society just seems silly, and you might even be grateful to Wharton for Archer, who IS stifled by the inexorable superficialities of his environment.

HOWEVER.

People nowadays were too busy - busy with reforms and "movements," with fads and fetishes and frivolities - to bother much about their neighbors. - p. 293

One sentence compared to all the others of the book is not enough to balance out the arguments, per se, but I think this sentence alone resonates so powerfully, especially in its context. Even though she wrote this in the early 1900s, I look around and I do see the progress of humanity towards change, which I think can be a very good thing, especially since nothing in this world is perfect. Humans really are insatiable, and whenever we satisfy the current hunger, another settles in and puts us in another frenzy. We keep moving, being able to pay less and less attention to one thing or person because we have ao many other things to cross off on our "To Do" lists. I am guilty of this myself - I mean, look at all my reading lists, my movie lists, my own "To Do" list. To catch up to the pace of this world, there is just not enough time.

What I do admire about Archer and his story is his ability to hold fast to something greater than his personal desires. Oh, he came close, to be sure, to having an affair with his beloved, but both were too loyal to their families to gratify themselves. It's admirable. You don't see that kind of restraint nowadays, even among Christians, who are the forerunners against premarital sex.

Of course, there is also a type of cruelty involved within a society that clings to their morals and distinctions of class. I find it sad that this type of environment nurtures robots and porcelain dolls adorned with smiles and prettily-sewn bonnets. I haven't known anything like that in my lifetime, though I see echoes of it in the Christian sphere now. We try to distinguish ourselves from the rest of the world, which seems to mostly come in the rules we uphold and lifestyles we lead. Everyone, after all, has started coming around to the fact that there are those less fortunate than we are and need aid. So we need something else other than just ministering to the poor and needy: moral law, the Ten Commandments. Again, this is not a bad thing, but I've noticed that in our unwisely executed arguments to the world that our way of living is THE way, we have not only pushed away the skeptics, we alienate some of our own. Too much judgment, too little grace, too little mercy.

I guess it's hard to follow my train of thought, but it's hard to compose something so coherent when I'm confused myself.

But...I'm a strong believer in not having to agree with everything. If I like a book, it doesn't mean I agree with everything in it, but rather certain elements. In Wharton's novel, I think there's a lot she brings up about society in general in focusing on one class, as farfetched as that may sound. We are always in conflict with something when we live in this life on earth, and we'll go out and try fervently to answer the unanswerable, never knowing that what we need is divine hope in a paradise that we'll fail to reach.

So...let's see how Chesterton will challenge my spiritualism and outlook on life.

Book List

Here is a short-term book list:

1. The Age of Innocence

2. The Man Who Was Thursday

3. House of Mirth

4. David Copperfield

5. The Ball and Cross

6. Short stories of Anton Chekov

I need a list that is more realistic, so here goes to completing this!

Questionable Interactions

I've recently picked up Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence, "recently" being two weeks ago, which isn't that recently considering how tiny the book actually is. Blame it on the cover letters that I so frustratingly ranted about before.

Anyway, now that I'm 2/3 of the way through it, I've been noticing a peculiar thing in the late 19th century high society of New York City. Now, I only say it is peculiar when comparing it to my own upbringing, so, really, there's probably not much potency to my observation.

You see, the agony of the book lies within Archer's inability to defy his society despite his undeniable love for Countess Olenska, the cousin of his fiancee. And of course, one thing leads to another, conversations in public lead to private meetings, and a confession of sorts pops out.

So I believe that the confession actually leads to more regret and agony if nothing comes of it other than knowledge of reciprocated attraction. Unfortunately for Olenska and Archer, Archer is a coward who has made one too many rash requests and boom boom boom, the snowball gains its speed. Perhaps the two would have been better off if nothing had ever been said. The "What if?" could have been a bit more blurry and more easily suppressed.

Now comes my confusion. How is it that a man and woman during that time were able to spend so much time alone together without an eyebrow or two raising? Granted, Olenska's caretaker had expressed a wish that Archer married her niece instead, everyone looked upon Olenska and Archer's interactions as completely familial - innocent.

That really would not have happened during my childhood days. For some reason, I had been taught that one-on-one time with guys would always lead to potential romancing, and premature romancing would always lead to heartbreak. I was told that extensive alone time with a guy meant that there was something more in the relationship. That would be fine if the couple were pursuing some courtship or in a relationship (and even this had its own set of rules), but improper if not the case. I took this seriously, I did, and thenceforth scrutinized every private conversation to see hints of romantic interest. I successfully ran away from those with the tiniest hints of interest, and bit on the ones I liked.

In "Doubt" private conversations between one nun and one priest required a third party lest some rumor of a scandal leak outside. So...is this mindset only in Christian circles?

I obviously don't have my questions well organized in this entry, but do you get the idea?

In Wharton's novel, there seems an incapability or a deliberate overlooking of the..."unpleasant." Everyone seems to be labelled already and follows suit to that label. Archer is a budding lawyer with the ideal, young pretty flower of a wife and could thus do no wrong. Even when he sought out Olenska he was doing it out of compassion, kindness and duty to his future family.

All this in the context of the novel is a bad thing, yet it definitely wouldn't be like that in my teen years. If a man was willing to take such steps for a woman, it is clear-cut romantic pursuit. Only Beaufort, whose character had been branded as an amorous sleazebag from the beginning had his actions perpetually questioned.

Anyway, I digress. I'm just musing about the differences between the society I can only imagine and the society I know for myself.

Maybe I should do this more; and maybe I should begin incorporating new vocabulary words so my labors of underlining, copying sentences, and typing up definitions won't be wasted.

It's a very, very...mad world

I could die to that song right now and be happy. Genius, pure genius.

On the way back to Hacienda Heights from Torrance today I saw an ad that made me almost jump out the window, run across the freeway lanes, jump over the brick wall, scramble up the pole to the billboard and hug it cheering in agreement. I'm not kidding - it was that intense.

"The cool new thing to do in L.A.? Leave."

THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU. Now I don't have to feel like evilness with red horns every time I feel a loathing to living in this place, which is, as you might be able to tell, quite often.

Am I so harsh? I don't think so. Let me explain.

California is absolutely amazing, sunny and exciting. There are beaches, clubs, restaurants of all cuisines, malls and outlets, designer and budget shops, fruit of all shades, shapes and colors, etc etc. It also has Six Flags and Disneyland, Hollywood and Beverly Hills. You can't help being in awe of a place that has such a myriad of things packed into it. What's not to like??

For some reason, I feel like I am slipping away when I'm here. Maybe it's the sun or the heat of the summer, but something inside me always dies when I come back "home." I become lethargic and some sloth-like creature that simply exists from day to day. I don't feel like I'm living life how I should be since i'm not sure what "life" is here. I'm dreadfully confused and awkward in conversations and introductions, not sure if I'll release too much bite. But that's who I am - and I'm stifling myself.

Trying to figure out what's up ahead is not a very fun project, either. Cover letters seem to be lost on me, money is out of my hands to pay for graduate school, and moving out of southern California for a very much desired job seems out of the question. I have both much and very little to choose from, and I am overwhelmed. Pathetic, I know, but that's what comes of being indecisive my whole life and making mistake after mistake.

I'm not blaming this on anyone, but it's a bit discouraging to have others trying to pave a path for me. They say do this or do that - just..."suggestions," you know? I am guilty of doing this myself, so freely brand me a hypocrite if you so wish after I say this. The suggestions don't always help - they just make me feel even more insecure about myself because it doesn't seem - in my case anyway - as if anyone is truly supporting me. I know my loved ones support me in my endeavours, but it feels differently when you've never been quite...exhorted in the area you are pursuing. So when someone comes and tries to give me suggestions about a different "way of doing things," it's pretty much a damning blow to the heart, a hint that maybe I can't do it after all.

I want to rise above all that, though. I want to give reality and circumstance a good battle. I want to slay the dragon they call Luck in the publishing industry.

Or maybe just bring Luck to my side. =) How about that?

Ohhh, spite these cover letters!

I realized how horribly unaesthetic that title looks in writing, but I think it'll suit this period of my life.

I've been working on this cover letter for a long time, mainly because I've had to rewrite it more times than I would have preferred. However, must survive in this dog-eat-dog world, so I am determined to finish it tonight.

I am awful at these things. What is unique about me? What distinguishes me from the next applicant, who might have a better GPA, more work experience, more social connections, a wider breadth of interests, more knowledge in books?

I know I can't write, "I was 100% convinced once upon a time that I would marry Jason Mraz because his voice kept coming into my head whenever I thought of marriage. No seriously, I was." And I couldn't very well write, "I am a small Asian girl who loves whiskey and strong black coffee without cream or sugar." I'm pretty sure "My toes are all the same size" would raise an eyebrow or two, just as "I can outbelch and outfart any guy in this room due to this acid reflux problem, you see" might be a bit disconcerting, if not disgusting.

So what else? That I had to move so many times during my childhood? That I can't whistle? that I don't remember getting one of my root canals?

My mom says that I have to show that I have passion. Oh, I definitely have passion, but so does everyone else. I will definitely include my passion with as much uppity up talk as I can muster in my hopefully-wrinkly brain. But one can only hope that translates just as enthusiastically in my words.

Hm. Unless! They really do appreciate negative and jaded talk - you know, honesty? Must one go beyond just observing the silver lining and actually experience it in life?

I wonder if it is possible for me to get these kinds of jobs that ask for more experience than I have. I always tell myself that I have nothing to lose when I begin these letters. Now I realize that yes, I don't have anything to lose, but I DO have all the discouragement to gain should I be rejected again and again.

See, told you that I can spurt out negative talk. I'm really good at it, you know.

This is silly of me, though. I can see that. I suppose I'd better turn away and concentrate all my writing power into this cover letter. Toodles.

New Beginnings

I have decided to keep this blog and turn it into a personal blog, simply changing the name and title to avoid having to set up an entirely new one. In time I hope to tweek with all the settings so I can make this look better, but in the mean time, when free minutes are few and my knowledge is lacking, I shall stick with is available.

The main reason for this? I am feeling quite...suffocated in this place. I live day to day in sunshine and happiness for a reason someone has yet to divulge to me. Everywhere I go I plaster on a smile and pay my respects in a few "how do you do?"s, as if showing any emotion other than happiness will bring forth thunderous clouds in the sky and rain on everyone's daily parade.

Perhaps I'm being too harsh, but see, THAT'S THE POINT. I am always too harsh, always too critical, always too strong. I am expected to like everything and allowed to dislike nothing. I have to eat the cake even if I don't want it.

Does this all sound so selfish? It does, I suppose, and I agree that some of the little occurrences going on nowadays are inevitable in a normal life, but this seems a bit extreme. Everyone just smiles here, and laughter is airless. People whisper behind your back about your views and never confront you about it because there's no respect for the possibility of another side to the equation.

It's a puzzling atmosphere, one pretty unique because of my family, my ethnicity, my culture and my religious upbringings. They have aggregated now, here in Hacienda Heights, after my college graduation, during some crucial job searching. And they do NOT get along very well with my personality.

I apologize for this overflow of complaints. I do not loathe this place for what it is; I just feel suffocated in it, and I know this does not apply to many others. But as you may have guessed, I do not have many outlets through which I can release my frustrations. I can see myself from the distance, flailing silently like someone whose sole gift was speaking has just lost her voice. I have but arms left to call for help. And I really hope someone is looking.