Sunday, July 29, 2012

Plain Dumb Cowardice

      What purpose does a father serve in the life of a child? The answer to this question will inevitably vary from child to child, father to father, and family to family.  Ray Bradbury wrote his much-loved novel, Something Wicked This Way Comes, in the early 1960s, a time during which families saw their father figures as the disciplinarians of the family.  Will Halloway's father, however, does not by any means fit this description. Throughout the book, Mr. Halloway's experiences drastically change him and mold him from a relatively pathetic, deeply saddened character to one of great confidence.  He does, however, harbor a sense of wisdom that remains constant throughout the novel.  This sense of wisdom proves invaluable to his son, Will, in teaching him life lessons and fulfilling in his own way his paternal role. In my opinion, the most important passages throughout the story appear in Mr. Halloway's monologues and occasionally in his conversations with Will. One such passage occurs after Mr. Halloway brings Will home from the police station after he and Jim turn themselves in for supposedly stealing Miss Foley's jewelry.  Will, feeling compelled to get a more clear perspective into his father's life, questions him about the difference between "being good" and "being happy" (134). Mr. Halloway, though reluctant at first, goes on to give his son a detailed explanation of his views on happiness, goodness, evil, and sin.  He informs a shocked Will that "men do love sin" and that, contrary to Will's belief that people who live their lives in goodness seem the happiest, people who appear guilty and sinful often live the cleanest and purest lives.  This statement sets the tone for the rest of the story; Bradbury goes on to explore the depths and levels of sin and how they affect the way certain people live their lives.  Further into his monologue, Mr. Halloway hints as to why he does not seem happy. He explains that, in trying to always act like a good, pure person, he missed out on so many other necessities. He does reveal, though, that he blames "plain dumb cowardice" for causing him to miss out on such things as "rivers never swum in" and "cake never eaten" (136). He includes this in his response to Will to subtly imply to him to take full advantage of his youth and have fun instead of making the same mistakes that he did. The last important point Mr. Halloway makes in his monologue seems to me the most surprising and also the most insightful.  When Will asks his father what does not make him sad, Mr. Halloway replies with death. He tells Will that "if there wasn't a death, all other things wouldn't get tainted" (137).  He further explains that death does nothing but scare.  This statement surprised me, as it seemed like Mr. Halloway, who at this point in the story still seemed fairly pathetic and frightened, would find death the most frightening of all.  His acceptance of death prompts Will to think further about comparing life to death and good to evil and how each relates to the carnival and their lives.  Will sees death, as his father did, as something frightening, and life as a temptress.  This revelation sets the stage for the rest of the novel, as the conflict between life and death swirls around sporadically throughout the rest of the book. Mr. Halloway's statement also prompted me to contemplate death and the validity of his statement. At first, I did not agree with him--I believed that death, as well as scaring people,, also caused great despair and heartbreak to those involved with the tragedy.  As I read further and considered his thoughts more and more, though, I realized that none other than fear appears at the very root of this despair and heartbreak. When a loved one dies, the despair we feel stems from a fear of living without them and going on with life just as nothing happened. We fear grief, sadness, and this emotional pain more than anything.  Death, as Mr. Halloway stated, acts as a catalyst in invoking fear and causing the worst kind of pain in the world.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

A Timeless Tale of Tragedy

    Time.  A simple word, yet an unbelievably complex concept.  Some of us choose to ignore the never-ceasing ticking of the clock, some of us accept it, and even more of us fear it.  Because, inevitably, with the passing of time comes aging.  Ray Bradbury thoroughly explores the depths of the internal conflicts that arise with the passing of time in his novel, Something Wicked This Way Comes. This timeless and universal conflict appears in several forms throughout the story--most notably, though, in the form of the mysterious carousel at the haunted carnival that comes to Jim Nightshade's and Will Halloway's hometown. One ride on the carousel, if no mistakes occur, will restore one's youth--a concept irresistible to many.  Additionally, though, a ride on the carousel can speed up time; this specific manipulation of time appeals mainly to children who have yet to discover the fears that come with the tragedy of growing older. Will touches on this subject when discussing the carousel with Jim and mentions that the merry-go-round does sound “keen,” but he also realizes the consequences of prematurely advancing one’s age: “You don’t really want to be twenty” (127).  The wisdom that Bradbury delegates to Will reflects his own opinions on this specific portion of the conflict—while growing older may seem alluring to young people, reality has proven that aging rarely ever works out well, and constantly wishing to speed up life will cause nothing but wasted time and disappointment.  The other, perhaps more pressing part of this conflict appears when older people reflect on their lives and want to become young again.  Charles Halloway, Will’s father, embodies this specific part of the conflict.  From the very beginning of the novel, Bradbury indirectly characterizes Halloway as wistful and painfully reminiscent of his youth.  When he watches Jim and Will go off to play, he “was suppressed with a sudden urge to run with them” (17).  Later, he reveals to Will that the thing he hates most about adulthood “is not being able to run anymore, like [Will]” (131).  As a full-grown adult, Mr. Halloway offers to us a glimpse into the world of adulthood and the depression, so to speak, that comes with age.  Seeing his son run around and do things that he once could do and now can not acts as yet another catalyst in this slow realization that age inhibits qualities and abilities that youth kept alive.  Will, in his youthful wisdom, notices his father’s unhappiness and asks him what he can do to make him happy once again.  Mr. Halloway longingly replies that he will only find true happiness if Will tells him that he will “live forever” (137). Bradbury not only stresses the importance of this raging internal conflict by referring to it numerous times but also by foiling Will to his father and juxtaposing Will's youthful wisdom to Mr. Halloway's pathetic desires and cliché reaction to the timeless tragedy of aging.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

In the Spirit of Adventure

      Through various personal experiences and routine life events, I have found that most people harbor a seemingly inexplicable aversion to all things unnatural and surreal to the point of aberration. I, however, can not say that I have ever felt that way toward such things. Some of my earliest memories involve me giving into my constant curiosity to take unnecessary risks and explore the eeriest of places.  For these reasons, Ray Bradbury's 1962 novel, Something Wicked This Way Comes,  has particularly intrigued me. As I began the book and read about the mysterious, haunted carnival and the haunting happenings that Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway unearth, I have to admit that I felt a little jealous of them having adventure of their lifetimes. Throughout the beginning portion of the novel, I contemplated each new character, their personality traits, and the likely undertakings that each would engage in.  It did not take much consideration on my part to realize that Miss Foley's nephew (Mr. Cooger) clearly seemed like the character that I would most want to embody, not because of his less-than-normal personality, his unnatural means of existence, or his reputation as "the evil boy," but because of his many adventures with the carnival and the life of mystery and adventure that he leads (84). For his own reasons, Cooger has connections with this bizarre carnival while still acting as Miss Foley's beloved nephew.  The secretive, adventurous life full of risk that he leads, while at first thought somewhat undesirable, seems explicitly appealing to me.  The young Cooger's personality, however cold and devious, often proves cunning and clever--two traits which also appeal to me.  When Jim and Will return to Miss Foley's house after having sat in their rooms for hours as punishment for supposedly staying at the carnival too late, Cooger realizes that they pose a certain threat to him. To ward them off, he tosses a "rain of tinkling, rattling glitter" from his place on the balcony onto the lawn toward Jim and Will (98). When Miss Foley comes to the window and sees the two boys with her jewelry, she naturally and logically assumes that they had stolen it, just as Cooger had intended. This quick and conniving act of hatred and perhaps necessity on Cooger's part made me admire his quick wit and ability to act spontaneously.  Despite his considerably harmful intentions to the protagonists and my better judgement, I still found myself wanting to spend some time in his shoes to, for the first time, experience a real adventure complete with the risks and inevitable thrills. So, in the spirit of adventure and spontaneity, Cooger's younger persona appeals most to me.