Gilead and Nostalgia

All,

So I have been hearing tell of some interest in Gilead, which I am very excited about! The book is by MariIynne Robinson. BYU has one copy. I do have one copy, but I've already promised it to one sister in the ward. Provo City and Orem have several copies.

If you are at all interested in owning the book, Amazon is selling several hundred copies starting at 71 cents (oh, how I love Amazon). Here is the URL to buy it:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/offer-listing/031242440X/ref=pd_bbs_olp_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1204502087&sr=8-2

So the point to all this is that I would love to have an informal discussion group about the novel. Please post any questions you have, and I will do my best to discuss things with you. I think the key thing to remember here is to not expect easy answers--the book is not something to be "cracked" and easily digested. Robinson is writing to get us to think about difficult questions. The act of engaging with the book is the end, now here are a few means:

There are some definite directions that we can take our discussions to encourage more productive thought. One such direction is thinking about the categories of nostalgia and memory. Nostalgia is a way of looking at the world behind you with a kind of homesickness. It is a mediated way of processing memories in which we repress and augment our memories to be a glorified and even fictionalized version of what actually happened. Not only are these memories now inaccessible, since we can never experience them in their original and glorified contexts, but they can often be totally unreal.

Think of your memories of home. I'm sure many of you have suppressed fights or unpleasantnesses with your parents and siblings. And where you have not suppressed these memories, you remember them with a certain glow. Ah yes, those were the days when our fights were about simple things! Also, try and call up some memory of a specific event or even a thing--a doll, a playhouse, that secret niche that you used to love hiding in. Now try and discuss the event with someone who was also there. You'll normally find that you either disagree on many of the details, or you'll find that as you each glowingly remember the event, you'll "add" to each others' memories of it. Also, think of a time when you encountered that thing out of its original context. My mom had this ugly ugly doll that she and her sisters just loved. She was horrified to find that my cousins and I all treated it as an object of terror--we chased each other around with it, hid it in each other's beds. She remembered it as such a pretty and nostalgic thing--it represented for her a beautiful childhood.

It is a very interesting category in our modern age, because we have things/shows/movies that can make us nostalgic for a past that not only never existed, but one that we never even remotely experienced. Think of the last time you went to a twenties diner. Now when you think of the twenties, you probably get nostalgic for that diner, which is really a very false representation of the twenties.

None of these things is to try and persuade you that nostalgia is a "bad" thing--it is simply a fact of human life. It is how we remember things. So what does all this have to do with Gilead? We have a man at the end of his life, remembering. Interestingly enough, at points, he even remembers events as they are actually happening. He changes into present tense outside, describing the boy and his mother as they are in the very act of playing baseball. And he nostaglizes the event.

A few questions to ponder:

Why is it so important for Ames to record his nostalgia? Why do we record ours?

Does Ames' nostalgia make him an unreliable narrator? How do we deal with his struggles with Jack? Can we believe that he actually forgives him?

What is the significance of his wife's and his sons' youthfulness in the face of his age?

What role does baseball play in the novel? Why would Robinson have picked baseball?

What effect does impending death have on Ames' religious views? What effect does Jack have? Why is it important that he write these struggles down for his son?

Finally, what does it mean that Ames makes a consumable version of his memories? Why does he want to push back against his son's own version of events, his own nostalgia?

That's all for now, I'll post in with another thread of thought in a bit. Until then. ald

Ordet

So here is my first shot at a real Blog entry. I mentioned "artistic and uplifting film" in my introduction, and, since we have not been able to talk about film in Relief Society yet, I thought it would be a great place to start.
I believe that film is just another form of literature. Like literature, there are empty, easy ones, and difficult, thought-provoking ones. A truly great and uplifting film will inspire you to explore important themes and issues.
One such great film that I just recently watched was a Danish film called Ordet, which means "The Word." This film was an exploration of faith, human relationships, and the reality of resurrection. It explored these themes through stunning visual elements and deft camera work. This film was challenging as it asks you to deal with difficult questions--"why is God sometimes silent?" "how can Christians be capable of hate and intolerance?"--and it does not give easy answers. You are forced to answer the questions yourself when the camera positions you in the viewpoint of a child or when you are faced with the harsh beauty of an empty field.
I truly wish that every Mormon film maker were required to view this film. It is a beautiful piece of uplifting art, something which I feel many Mormon film makers fail to achieve (although there are some notable exceptions--Saints and Soldiers being one). When viewing films, let us not stop at at the requirement of "inoffensive" and let us demand that our cinema be actively inspiring, beautiful, and thought-provoking.