I recently finished Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe. The first time I read it was in high school, and I think I missed some of the meaning. His contrast of the clash between tradition and change, and its effect on a society is enthralling. He writes in a short, minimalist style, allowing the reader to add in meaning on their own. This book explores the difficulties of the human condition without apology.

His story explored conflicted and deep characters that spoke to me. Both were compelling as they exposed our universally shared struggle against our own flaws. The ending is simultaneously heart wrenching and thought-provoking.

It’s my kind of story.

The Hugo-ness of Things Fall Apart

I have written about Les Misérables before, and it is without a doubt my favorite piece of literature. Things Fall Apart is not Les Mis, neither in style nor scope, and wasn’t intended to be. But I was reminded throughout of one of my favorite Hugo characters: Javert.

Javert is often considered a villain, but I don’t agree with that. The main character in Things Fall Apart, Okonkwo, is just like him. In Hugo’s novel, Javert is a fatalistic and deterministic police officer trapped between the incongruity of his worldview and the actions of his adversary, Jean Val Jean. He battles with a deep and protracted conflict within himself because of his firmly held belief that people cannot change and cannot escape their inborn evil (or goodness). Jean Val Jean consistently disproves Javert’s beliefs, and the police officer is never able to completely reconcile these two things.

Jean Val Jean behaves in ways that do not match Javert’s preconceived notions of him. In the end, Javert, unable to live with this dichotomy, especially because he finds himself beginning to disbelieve his own tenets, ends his own life.

Okonkwo, by comparison, is a powerful and respected member of a tribal group of the Igbo people of lower Nigeria. He fiercely follows and upholds the traditional laws of his tribe without pause or remorse. Even when he is subjected to one of their laws, he does not attempt to evade it or plead for a reprieve. Instead, he submits to the punishment with the internal conviction that this is the way things are and should be. Obedience is his way of life, and he expects conformity from everyone else as well. Javert would have been proud.

A Tragic Flaw

What makes Okonkwo most like Javert is his inability to understand a different point of view, his complete devotion to his own way of thinking, and his uncompromising approach to all conflicts, even internal ones. Okonkwo and Javert share a bond in strict discipline, absolute adherence to their worldview, and profound stubbornness.  For both, this code is their greatest strength as well as the cause of their ultimate downfall.

Okonkwo’s ultimate fear, and his tragic flaw in the classical sense, is to appear weak. He differs from Javert in this respect. Everyone in Okonkwo’s village knows he is a strong, ambitious, and respectable leader of their community. He represents the strength and history of their people. And yet Okonkwo is internally haunted by the fear of losing any piece of his image or standing.

To preserve his façade, he abandons any kind of behavior that he perceives as weak, such as mercy, compassion, or patience. And ironically, these holes in his character ultimately make him weak and fallible.

Okonkwo works hard, both on his farm, and for his community. These are strengths. Okonkwo follows the traditions of his people, which he believes in. And in his own eyes, he is the strongest of all those in his world. But the empty spots in his makeup can not be filled by increasing physical strength or acquiring more wealth.

For a period of time, Okonkwo’s tribe exiles him, and he lives with his father-in-law, Uchendu, in a neighboring village. Uchendu’s experience and wisdom could have helped Okonkwo, but he is too proud to listen.

While Okonkwo stews in his own despair at having lost his position in his tribe, Uchendu says: “You think you are the greatest sufferer in the world? … For whom is it well, for whom is it well? There is no one for whom it is well.”

Something Uchendu understood that Okonkwo did not is that life is difficult for everyone. Part of all lives is learning to continue onward amidst difficulties without abandoning our core values and beliefs.

Tradition as Weakness

Achebe’s novel explores the effects of European colonization on a “primitive” African tribe. But in his allegory, he represents a timeless conflict between the “old days” (tradition) and the “new ways” (changes). We see this same, never-ending debate today.

One question that came to me while reading this book was this: “Does every generation feel like the next generation is destroying the ‘good old days’?” I think the answer to that question is ‘yes’ but what I wanted to understand is why.

The colonists attacked, mocked, and attempted to destroy the superstitious and brutal ways of Okonkwo’s people. What Achebe leaves to the reader is the analysis of whether the tribe’s traditions ought to have changed or not. And then, the reader must also determine if the colonists are any better than the “primitives” who they have supposedly civilized.

As I mentioned, and as is presented unapologetically by Achebe, is that some of the tribal traditions in Okonkwo’s village are simply terrible. They treat women as property with few rights. Family matters are handled entirely by the patriarch, including corporal punishment or even execution.

Many of the tribe’s traditions included superstitious beliefs in evil spirits and trickster gods who punish mortals in various ways. Traditions stemming from these beliefs lead to killing all infant twins, extreme punishments, banishment, and mutilating corpses.

For Okonkwo, however, all of these things are right, because that is how things have always been. But with the coming of the Europeans, and their subversion of his own son to Christianity, things begin to change. He cannot see his traditions objectively enough to separate those that can endure the changes forced upon him, and those which probably ought to be let go.

And at that point, Okonkwo’s world begins to fall apart.

Tradition as Strength

My thoughts as I read this book were not judgmental about the tribal people or the colonists represented in the writing. Instead, I was impressed by the skill with which the author showed both sides of the story, and I was drawn to consider the question of why change feels so scary.

Were Okonkwo’s traditions primitive and brutal? Some were, but not all. Others were admirable. Okonkwo and his people loved their families, watched over and cared for their neighbors and friends, and shared important occasions with those they loved. People in their tribe worked hard, built good relationships, and trusted one another. They lacked education about some things, like weather and death, but they were well educated in other ways, like how to farm and maximize their resources.

Overall they were good people trying to make good lives for themselves. This is probably true of almost any group of people in history.

Their traditions helped strengthen their values and teach their children the way to live and be. I think this is the real reason change is frightening for all people. When we perceive what might be a truly life-altering change approaching, deep down we worry that this new thing will take away the most valuable components of our identity.

I think we cling to our traditions as symbols of the strength of our identity. And we are probably mostly right to do so. There are things that are too valuable to let go.

This reminds me of Tevye’s words from Fiddler on the Roof:

“Because of our traditions…Every one of us knows who he is and what God expects him to do.”

Tevye’s traditions kept him safe and secure during turbulent times. Everyone in Anatevka knew what it meant to be a Jew. Every person in Okonkwo’s village knew what it meant to be Igbo.

Traditions help us maintain our identity, and keep us from constantly shifting our values and beliefs to follow the latest, hottest fad. If we don’t have that kind of anchor, we can lose hold on the things that really matter most.

The Balance

But there is a timeless and true adage.

“The only constant is change.”

We all know that the world, our situation, our thoughts, and what we know are constantly changing. Technological advances, scientific discoveries, new paradigms, unique experiences, and many other things are continuously influencing our circumstances, our opinions, and our views of the world. Most of these are beyond our sphere of control, and there is no escape from that.

Some of Okonkwo’s traditions were horrible and based in ignorance. Simultaneously, others of his traditions were important, valuable and founded in love, hard work and integrity. Our traditions are also likely a mix of both types, important and unimportant, even perhaps “good” and “evil”.

So, the challenge is to be adaptable in the areas that are not critical to who we are and to be steadfast in those that are our core values. We must be equally willing to give up things that really aren’t right morally. The only way to do this is to know what your core values are. If we don’t know that, the loudest and most insistent voices will divert us, regardless of what is right.

Core values worth keeping stem from a moral code that is founded on correct principles of action and belief. We must set our most important anchors in ethical, right behavior. If we can do that, the ever-changing opinions around us will not sway us when it matters most. All the ideas and concepts we hear will not necessarily change us. Then, we will not fear the change. We will not negatively view the next generation that is supposedly ruining everything.

Traditions, founded on a strong and right moral code, are essential to maintaining our own identity, integrity, and standards.

Real Strength

Okonkwo and Javert both lacked the same thing: a belief that people can really change. They both adhered to core values, but they lacked critical and fundamental values, such as mercy and forgiveness. Because of that, they could not withstand the storms of change.

But it did not have to be that way for them. And it does not have to be that way for us. Although change will come, we can maintain our identity and our values.

As I have written before, one of our main purposes in life is to become better than we are. Anyone can change their life for the better, but not on their own. Okonkwo had strong family ties and a united and powerful community to turn to in his despair and difficulty, but he ignored them. He thought asking for help would make him appear weak.

But none of us is strong enough to make it alone. I love this quote from Andrea del Sarto by Robert Browning:

“Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?”

We need help beyond our own abilities from time to time. It is not a weakness to need help. Real strength comes from being united with those around us, maintaining our core values, and holding fast to them when life becomes difficult.

If we can do that, our lives will not ever fall apart.

 

 

 

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Also, you might like to read my post entitled All the Light.

 

 

 

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Light is a spectrum of wavelengths, only a tiny portion of which is visible. A scale so large that “mathematically, all of light is invisible.”

Stay with me for a minute while I digress. The movie The Secret Life of Walter Mitty is underrated. I really enjoyed it (even the volcano-skateboard part). But of all the scenes in it, one exchange seemed especially meaningful .

You can watch the part I’m referring to here as Sean Penn talks with Ben Stiller somewhere in the Himalayas.

Some moments in life don’t need to be shared with the entire world of Twitter and Facebook and Instagram to be meaningful. They only have to be experienced. Some moments are just meant for you to ponder, to reflect, to internalize, to remember. Moments like these can change who we are.

You need to read All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. Never mind that he won a Pulitzer Prize for it. Never mind that he’s an acclaimed author with multiple awards for other works. This book is worth your time. It contains moments meant for you. It can change you.

I had several thoughts as I read it that I’m going to share here. But there are also some I will keep to myself—the most meaningful ones. You will discover your own when you read it.

Writers Mean What They Write

I remember high school English. We used to wonder if the authors of classic literature really meant to write about all the symbolism and morals that our teachers talked about. We thought maybe they made up all the analysis and the meanings when the author really wrote it all for fun. I have a different perspective now.

Authors (I’m mainly referring to fiction authors) write about certain themes, things that are important to them. A portion of this occurs subconsciously, but most of it happens intentionally. As an author, when I write about what I feel and what I think, my philosophy and my ideas, I am purposeful, deliberate, and careful.

The tricky part of this is making sure the story and characters are complete on their own. If not, the whole thing becomes stuffy, boring, and preachy. So writing means entertainment and engagement while also allowing the theme to show through subtly enough that the reader will recognize it but also so that they can ignore it if they want to.

Fortunately, blog posts don’t have to be like that.

All the Light We Cannot See

In All the Light We Cannot See, WWII historical fiction, Anthony Doerr explores several interesting themes. His narrative follows the narrow views of each of the two main characters, Marie-Laure and Werner Pfennig, two young teens experiencing the war in France and Germany. Neither of these characters knows much about what is really happening.

But even from their limited and young perspectives, the reader gains a sense of the overall effects of the war on the individuals who suffered through it.

His characters experience relatively common problems shared at that time by thousands across Europe, the weight of oppression, the fear of invaders, and the struggle for survival. Doerr writes it well.

He writes about our perception of reality as compared to reality itself. This is one of the themes I like to write about too, so I think it stuck out to me. How do we see and interpret the world as compared to how it really is? Can we even see the world as it truly is rather than how we think it is?

He also deals with standing up for what is right in spite of the personal cost. Several characters face difficult choices, some prevail, while others give in.

But his recurring message, his main theme, is how much of light is invisible to the eye. Werner is a young German boy inducted into the Nazi national political schools because of his aptitude for electronics. Radio waves, electromagnetic radiation (or light) outside of the visible spectrum, are a focal point of Werner’s story. As a very young boy, he learns about principles of science, especially light, through broadcasts on his homemade radio.

Perhaps as an emphasis to his theme of invisible light, his main character, Marie-Laure, a blind girl living with her father in Paris, provides an inspiring perspective on life. Although she can see nothing, her perception and understanding of what is right is often the clearest. Marie-Laure’s story is one of hope and perserverence.

Perception and Reality

How can we pierce our own version of reality? Doerr poses the problem through Marie-Laure’s father, who carried a dangerous secret throughout much of the story. When he feels the fear of pursuit, he begins to look at everyone with a wary eye.

“Figures bicycle past. Pinched faces streaked with suspicion or fear or both. Perhaps it is [his] own eyes that have been streaked.”

When we see distrust, disgust, or derision on the face of someone else, is it because that is what they feel, or because we think they feel that way? When we hear an insult, was it intended, or did we interpret it?

At times, I think we make judgments on behalf of others without really knowing the truth. It’s easy to exclude ourselves from something because “they wouldn’t want me,” or “that person doesn’t like me, I can tell.”

Later in the story, after moving to Saint Malo, Marie-Laure and her uncle Etienne have an interesting exchange that I enjoyed.

“Etienne, are you ever sorry that we came here? Did you ever feel like I brought a curse into your life.”

“You are the best thing that has ever come into my life.”

Marie-Laure thought of herself as a burden to her uncle, an unwanted difficulty. She was blind, her arrival interrupted Etienne in his previously singular existence, it took effort for him to take care of her. Her problems brought him problems. But unbeknownst to her, she had reinvigorated his life, had saved him from despair.

She hadn’t seen it, but she was a relief to him. Her presence had changed the downward trajectory of his life and brought him back to a purposeful and meaningful existence.

I love this quote from Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech. “Don’t judge a man until you’ve walked two moons in his moccasins.”

Too often, our eyes become “streaked” with our own prejudgments. Empathy can help us break through this cloud of perception. Trying to see things from someone else’s point of view can make all the difference.

Standing Up

A second theme Doerr weaves into his book is standing up for what is right in spite of the consequences. Nazi Germany was a terrible proving ground for those with strength of character. To say it was dangerous would be to trivialize what it meant to stand up for goodness.

Two of Doerr’s secondary characters really demonstrate this point. The first is Madame Manec, Etienne’s housekeeper, and Marie-Laure’s friend.

The French Resistance earned renown for their organization and success. They contributed in significant ways to the eventual defeat of the Nazi occupation. But that’s not to say any part of it was easy. Every minute spent as a resistance fighter risked death, and not only death for yourself but for your family, friends and neighbors.

Madame Manec wanted to make a difference. She organized her friends and formed a group that passed on information about German military positions through a hidden radio in Etienne’s attic. But she didn’t just do that, she also took care to share her meager rations with those in need in the city. Her resistance was not just against an oppressor, but against all suffering.

More tragic of an example was Frederick, a friend of Werner’s in the political school. Here the Nazis trained future SS and regular army officers. Eventually, as Germany’s stockpile of able soldiers dwindled, these students suddenly became eligible for combat, even as young as twelve.

As part of their training, students participated in the execution of political prisoners through a gruesome midnight ritual. Most of the students either enjoyed or endured the night, but Frederick did not. Instead, he refused to participate altogether.

Although Madame Manec’s form of resistance carried with it great risk, Frederick risked everything with no possibility of secrecy. And he stood alone. Facing his entire school and his merciless instructor, confronted with a helpless victim who he was supposed to help kill, he said simply:

“I will not.”

Those three words carry incredible meaning. I felt their significance as Frederick said them. I emphasize the ability of each person to choose their course in life. Is there coercion? Yes. Frederick faced it. Can there be threats and intimidation? Yes. Frederick resisted it. Can there be humiliation or ridicule? Yes.

But in the end, we either will, or will not.

The Meaning of Light

What did Anthony Doerr mean by the title, All the Light We Cannot See? He returned to this thought throughout the book, but interpretation is wisely left to the reader.

He might have simply meant that radio waves carry words far beyond the range of visibility. And these waves directed lives in ways the hearers almost couldn’t perceive. Scientifically, the physics of photons, the movement of waves, and the mathematical invisibility of all light is vastly intriguing.

But is it more than that?

Could he have been referring to a piece of coal, as Werner often wondered, that when burned releases the energy of the sun captured millions of years before? This energy lay waiting in the earth until needed, mined, extracted and burned. Energy that remained invisible until the furnace forced it out in orange flames.

And is that potential energy equivalent to the power that lies dormant within people, the ability to stand up for what is right in the face of evil? Was Frederick more powerful than the sunlight trapped within the coal?

There is light we cannot see in every person, and at times it surfaces just when it is needed.

Is this light the goodness of the world, of people, goodness that is often masked by negativity? Goodness is all around us. People do wonderful things every minute of every day. But like the radios in Nazi Germany, the airwaves are full of propaganda and hate.

The Nazi radios tried to drown it out, suppress all the good there was. And today there is so much noise and static and distraction, is the goodness of the world invisible through the feedback? Or is there hidden light, like the secret messages sent by Madame Manec and Etienne, which subverted the evil messages of the Nazis.

The light is always there, but we must look for it.

The Light We Can Help Others See

Or possibly the light we cannot see refers to the light that the blind Marie-Laure brought into the world despite her limitations. Her fingers and ears, nose, touch, and imagination were her only connections to the world. Although she could never see the waves of radiation that illuminate all things, still she lived in a world of bright colors and light that she created within herself.

Perhaps Anne Frank said it best.

Our own happiness, and the light we share with others comes from within ourselves.

Never able to actually see the beauty all around her, Marie-Laure instead created it for herself. So is the invisible light in fact the light that is within each of us?

I believe it is the power of choosing good, even when it is hard, as Frederick did. It is the willingness to help those in need, as Etienne and Madame Manec did. And it is sharing our own light with others, like Marie-Laure.

Perhaps what we might not see yet is that we have the immeasurable power of our own souls to light the lives of those all around us.

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If you enjoyed this article, you might like The Shoah, concerning French Jews lost to the Holocaust.

 

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Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass are two books I had never read. I like classic literature, of all genres it is my favorite although I don’t fully know why. I enjoy finding the profound lessons that are usually included in the classics, as well as the writing style. Reading many of those works requires a lot of thinking and pondering. But perhaps the thing I love most is that what they found to be important, even though most of these authors are now gone, is what we still find important today.

Lewis Carroll’s Books

I didn’t know what to expect from Lewis Carroll’s famous books. I had seen the Disney movie several times, and the Cheshire Cat is well known to everyone, I suppose because of the animated movie. There were a few moments in the books that I really enjoyed, and I was glad I finally read them. But overall, I was actually a little disappointed.

They were written for children, and from what I have read, Carroll started on these stories by telling them to the daughters of a colleague while rowing around a pond or something. So they are actually oral tradition in inception and written later.

My expectations were probably too high.

My opinion is completely unfair to Carroll, who made no promises to anyone other than that his stories were fanciful. I was expecting more of a deep philosophical journey in the guise of a children’s book. There are definitely some things to think about, but the author made very little of any of it.

For a light and whimsical journey that requires only a small mental investment, read Alice as well as the Looking Glass. There are some very clear lessons, but also some missed opportunities. I think a little more meaning behind the rest of the story would have added a lot to my experience.

What I liked Most

Above all else, I liked Alice. Her character to me rang true. This was a little girl who (in her alleged dream…or reality…whichever) could do a lot, but was also completely fallible. She really didn’t know anything about the topsy-turvy world she had fallen into. Becasue of that, she made a lot of mistakes. She especially offended creatures that her pet cat would enjoy eating.

My favorite thought about Alice was this:

“She generally gave herself very good advice (though she very seldom followed it).”

And that could be said more than likely for all of us as well. That thought alone made Alice human to me right from the start.

I like quotes (you can find some of my favorites as you browse through my website), and there are a few in the Alice books that I enjoyed. Her exchange with the Cheshire Cat is one of the most famous, but I’ll save that for the end.

In Through the Looking Glass, she converses with a gnat for a while, and I liked this thought while they discuss the fate of a bread-and-butterfly being unable to find its preferred food (weak tea with cream). Alice wonders what would happen if it couldn’t find its food.

“Then it would die, of course,” said the Gnat.

“But that must happen very often.”

“It always happens.”

Acknowledging the inevitability of death is important to all of us. That kind of honesty with ourselves helps us maintain a perspective on life that grounds us. It’s important to make our life meaningful, and to be happy while we are alive. Recognizing that life ends is helpful in doing that.

Are We Real?

Are we real? This is a thought that I really love. My book Thread and Other Stories is essentially centered around this question. My personal opinion is that we are real, life is real, the physical world is real, and what we do matters. But there is actually no way for me to prove that to you (not scientifically, that is).

At the end of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Carroll describes Alice in this way:

“So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality.”

Metaphysically speaking (if you were extremely pedantic and just a little boring) you might ask Alice how she knows which of the two worlds is reality? Is it real when she’s awake, or asleep? Alice would probably just go back to sleep again, since she was only seven years old. But we might take some time and think about the answer, and even how you might arrive at the answer.

Carroll asks a follow-up question at the end of the Looking Glass:

“Life, what is it but a dream?”

If you are not sure how to begin this mind-bending internal debate, consider that everything you experience is only understood by you via electrical impulses in your mind. So, could your mind be completely isolated from everything (including a physical body)?

And if so, could your mind be given a set of impulses that would simulate everything you believe you experience in the physical world? And if so, how would you know the difference between that and what you experience as a physical being on earth?

These were certainly questions considered in Carroll’s era by intellectuals in the British universities.

The Cheshire Cat

I think the cat, intentionally or not, asks the most practical of all questions to Alice. As a reader, or as a parent trying to find a lesson for a child who has just read these books, the Cheshire Cat offers the most useful moral.

 At a certain point, Alice is a little lost and befuddled. She is searching for the White Rabbit and asks the enigmatic but smiling cat:

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go?”

“That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat.

“I don’t much care where…,” said Alice.

“Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat.

This is the closest that Carroll comes to a moral in the story. But I think it is an important one. I’m not the first to ever talk about this particular passage, but it is important for us to have a destination in mind in life.

There are many people who have busy, hectic lives, but I’m not certain if all of them know or care where they want to go. Having purpose, having goals, and having a clear direction means a lot in terms of peace of mind, happiness, and satisfaction in life. This is true whether your physical body exists or not.

And without those things, you never know where you might end up.

 

 

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