Literature? Art?

What is literature? What is good literature? Better yet... why is literature? And why not?

I've often heard it said that a good book, or a good movie for that matter, is one that makes you laugh and makes you cry. Why is that... important, in a piece of good literature - or some art?

Maybe because laughter and tears are the two most important emotions, or the result of the most important emotions, we have. They are flip sides of each other... sometimes they're not. Sometimes they are one.

Usually they are complimentary. They round each other out. They give body, and meaning, to a story.

A good story, be it a book or a movie, touches the inner "soul." It tells something about life, maybe something that's never been told before, or never told in that way, or it elucidates some aspect of life, perhaps in a way that's never quite been done that way before.

Does it portray violence? Or raw sex? I think only if those are real parts of the story, not if they're just stuck in there for the sake of it.

Good literature has to move you, it has to shed some light on our way, it MAY even motivate!

What good pieces of literature have you been a part of lately??

Have they in some way also become a part of you?

What terrible pieces of literature have you witnessed lately? What have you done with them? How did they affect you? Did they affect you?!

One of the best and most engrossing novels I’ve read is Christy by Catherine Marshall. It’s the tale of a young woman around 1913 who chooses to live as a teacher at a Christian mission in rural Appalachia. She learns to deal with the suspicious natures of the mountain people and eventually wins them over. In the surprise ending, she finds love with someone she hadn’t expected to. The story tells of a time, place and people not talked about today, and about life from the perspective of a young woman thrown into it all with unexpected results. But it’s life, life in an unexpected guise.

And speaking of love, as love is a constant theme is literature and art and, of course, life, Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez is sometimes said to be the definitive story of love or at least, the story of love in many, many forms. There are three main characters, one might say a triangle: Filomeno Araiza, Juvenal Urbino, and the head of the triangle, Fermina Dasa.

Araiza falls in “love”, incurably so, with Fermina Dasa when they are both young. She rejects him and later marries a man of wealth, Dr. Urbino. Their marriage lasts some 50 years, years of marital struggle, some strife, ample boredom, but some real tender times as well. Urbino dies, falling off a latter while trying to recover his escaped parrot that is fluent in 3 languages (in which the doctor has schooled it every afternoon) as well as the vulgar vocabulary of a sailor, in which he has not instructed it.

So now, after all this time, Mr. Araiza has his chance to recapture the love of his entire life, Fermina Dasa, once she has recovered from her morning for the dead doctor, her husband, and once Araiza can convince her that she needs to love him too.

But what has the pining Filomena Araiza been doing all these 50+ years to occupy himself and prepare now for his great chance finally? Of course, he has become wealthy – Fermina has become accustomed to such a lifestyle. But has he “saved” himself for her?

Quite the opposite! After he has been initiated to the wonderful world of sex by a naked woman who pulls him into a dark room and has her way with him, he himself becomes a predator of women, some widows, some single, some “acquainted” with other men… AND a 13 year old girl that he has been chose to be the guardian of. His affairs apparently number the hundreds; the 13 year old girl later at age 17 kills herself when she learns Araiza has a real lover – Dasa – in mind.

Well, he does convince the widowed Dasa to come to his bed; they end up taking an unending but romantic river cruise together for the rest of their aged lives. So I guess you have the reality of conjugal boring love, the fantasy of unending sexual conquest, and the fantasy of fairytale love.

Well, how about some more of REALITY love… and marriage? Have you seen Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf by Edward Albee? It’s a play, in book form, but also performed on the screen with the four characters being Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, George Segal, and Sandy Dennis, as Martha, George, Nick and Honey.

Taylor’s character, Martha, is a holy, or unholy, terror, especially to her husband George (Burton). George is an associate professor at a small college out east run by Martha’ father. Martha married George 20 or 30 years ago thinking he would become the head of the history department and later take over from her dad as head of the school. He does neither and Martha never tires of reminding him that he hasn’t, and that he’s therefore a loser.

After a late night social boozer for the faculty, Martha invites young biology professor Nick and his wife Honey over for some after mid-night, post-party boozing as well. They are in for quite a surprise as Martha digs her knives into George relentlessly and won’t allow the younger couple to escape. Martha also has designs on the younger and more athletic Nick, but the amount of alcohol Nick consumes won’t permit him to follow through in bed; Honey, meanwhile spends most of her time pretty oblivious to the whole situation and barfing in the bathroom, unable to hold her liquor.

But George is no pushover. He has a few games up his sleeve too. He pumps the inebriated Nick for information, particularly why he and his wife have no kids. He then uses the info to get at the young couple.

But his coup de gras he saves for Martha, Martha who’s been digging at his psyche all night. Martha and George apparently have pretending they have a son who’s grown now and is supposed to come visit tomorrow for his birthday. It seems George has permitted Martha to carry on the fantasy because she is childless and has probably become an alcoholic to compensate and to hold her fragile sanity intact. But tonight she has just pushed him too far. He reveals the “secret” in front of Nick and Honey and Martha screams and breaks down sobbing.

But it seems to me that George does it less out of frustration and bitterness as… love! As the secret of the made-up child unravels, George reads what are supposedly the Latin phrases used to perform an exorcism, trying to cast the “devil” out of Martha. And if Martha doesn’t have a devil, she’s certainly angry, spiteful, loud and willing to tear up anyone around her.

Well, he succeeds… in something. The young couple leaves, she falls into George’s arms tame as a tearful lamb, and wonders if she can go on with her life, now that the child has been exposed as a fraud and “killed off” by George. I believe she can and does, now more in tune with reality but willing to now have the full love and support of her husband. Not everyone sees the ending that way, though. Someone told me he believed this Saturday night episode merely repeated itself on a weekly basis for Martha and George, a kind of perpetual hellish nightmare.

I’ve saved the last example here of life in literature for the 1950’s movie The Hustler starring a young Paul Newman, and in fact young George C. Scott and Jackie Gleason, with the pretty Piper Laurie as the love interest. With the game of pool as a backdrop, the movie really focuses on the characters of Newman, Scott and Laurie, their interplay, and the reason or reasons for living.

Gleason trounces Newman in their first matchup ostensibly because Newman can’t hold his liquor during the game as well as he does. Scott continually tells the young upstart he’s a loser, not because he doesn’t have talent, but because he lacks Gleason’s strength of character. Newman believes Scott.. that is until he meets Piper Laurie.

Piper drowns herself in a bottle as much as Newman does, but when the two fall for each other, they start to clean up their acts, and sober up too. Newman’s a pool-hall hustler, but Scott’s a hustler on a whole other level. He convinces Newman to go on the road playing for money; Piper comes along fearing he’ll go astray with other women. Newman neglects her for interest in his game… and the flirting of some women; Piper despairs, gets drunk again, and while she sees Scott for the sham he is, allows herself to be seduced by him. In a fit of self-disgust, Piper kills herself in the bathroom.

Newman too late realizes what has happened and Scott’s and his parts in it. He’s enraged with Scott, but is able to direct his anger this time. He looks up Jackie Gleason and trounces him in a rematch. Newman gains his revenge on Scott by “unmasking” his real “loser” self in front of all.

Because of that, the bit-time roller Scott will prevent Newman from ever playing big-time pool again, but Newman has really won and gets away without being destroyed by Scott.

Are these not real life lessons and dramas come to life in literature and art? At the very least, they engross the reader or viewer. But they engross because they’re done and written well AND they ring true to life. Someone, at least has been there or knows someone who has. And they strike to the very core of your being because of this.