sauvin wrote:I can't say that I've ever had anything resembling sympathy (or empathy) with or for Theres. It's hard to have these things for spiders and snakes that never seem to have anything resembling emotion. Unlike Eli, who is presumably fully human (except when she's not) and therefore has a head to get into, miseries to understand and foibles to forgive, I just can't get into Theres' head. It's almost as if she's just human enough to be able to read human emotional states without having what it takes to understand them at all, and she's completely insectile otherwise.
I felt sympathy for Theres because of what happened to her as an infant. She did not choose any of that. Her parents abandoned her in the woods, and she was found and raised by some kooky people who found it acceptable to lock her up in a basement and use her talent for pitching the perfect note for their own ends. She never received the love that any child deserves and needs to grow into a well-rounded adult.
sauvin wrote:Is it possible to have "sympathy" and suchlike for somebody you don't particularly like? Teresa was clearly in emotional trouble at twelve when she asked her boyfriend to play the "lay down and pretend to be dead" game. This might be somebody to pity, but not necessarily somebody you'd want to have any kind of relationship with. She lost more "human being" points just a bit later when she tormented the flies with such detachment, an even clearer potential sign of trouble. Maybe it's true, as she speculates somewhere in the story, that if she hadn't met Theres, she'd have just gone on to be a mousy little thing, but she did.
But isn't real love about continuing to love someone despite their flaws and problems? I think that in an important way, JAL is asking us, as a
society, to look in the mirror and honestly state whether we like what we see. To make a judgment about whether they way we treat the ugly, the uninteresting (particularly during the critical years of childhood and adolescence), is measured by genuine love, or not. That perhaps we, as a society, should be holding ourselves to a higher standard about how we are going to raise our children. That perhaps we should be more thoughtful and engage in some self-examination about how we end up choosing which children are fostered and which are shunned. For example, was treating Teresa's depression with medication alone an appropriate response? What about psychotherapy? Would that have helped her? If so, what were the forces in society that failed to provide that to her? I think that JAL looks around at the world and sees much material prosperity, but emotional scarcity--and wants us to challenge the status quo. To step back and say, could we do better? Why do the lives of some children have to develop in this way?
sauvin wrote:There are a couple of places where she questions her position. When she to visit Theres and found her bedroom full of other girls, she found that Theres didn't just have eyes for her. When she later consented to attend a party, I interpreted it as an attempt to reconnect to something she might never actually have had. She needed to belong somewhere, and anywhere would do, even if it comes with a "warm piece of meat".
She discovers what genuine jealousy is. In her case, one might argue that the ability to feel that emotion might actually be a marker for a rising humanity in her conscience. This is a girl who is desperately reaching for an emotional connection with the world, and not finding it. And being met with indifference, she chooses poorly and fellates Micke. A shitty-ass substitute for the real deal, made in a false hope that it would prompt him to have genuine feelings for her, and thereby just pushing herself harder into her downward spiral.
In some ways, the story asks, what do you fear most? How about losing your own humanity? The degree that you fear that marks the degree of your humanity. How about losing it from mental illness? I listened to a
This American Life podcast last night about people who have had near-death experiences. The last interviewee was a woman who developed a severe obsessive-compulsive disorder that made her swallow inedible objects--nails, straws, plastic silverware, radio antennas, you name it. She was afraid that if she didn't swallow these things, something bad would happen to her mother. She felt tremendous relief once the nail or other object was inside of her, because it would abate, at least temporarily, the incessant thoughts about swallowing things. She was institutionalized and put into a straight jacket. Her story, to me, was terrifying. To be not in control of one's self. To lose one's mind. She finally underwent two surgeries to destroy a particular part of her brain that was causing the compulsion. (It was really interesting to hear her talk about how amazing it was to sit down to dinner with her mother after her surgeries and be surrounded by silverware!
)
So, the point is, I fear losing my ability to feel sympathy and empathy for others, and I find it troubling to read this story, where Teresa slowly loses hers, both through her own choices, and maybe because the social safety net--be that a friend, a parent, a therapist, etc.--could have been stronger. Could have tried harder. Could have taken more time to just
be with her. I think we are being asked to re-examine what we are willing to let pass as the status quo with regard to our love and commitment to one another. Because everyone has a talent for something; everyone has something they can contribute and find a measure of self-worth.