Monday, February 24, 2014

Harsh Reality, Happy Lies: Is the truth worth it?

O'Brien (the character) is happiest when he dreams his friends to be alive.  Upon reflecting on these thoughts, he knows fully well that he is lying to himself.  Even with Linda, who he has been keeping alive through dreams for nearly 30 years, he admits to the reader, "She's not the embodied Linda; she's mostly made up, with a new identity and a new name, like the man who never was" (232).  It's these dreams that keeps O'Brien "young and happy" (233).  Timmy is the blissful, ignorant, and young version of himself that he can only achieve - and keep alive - through his stories and dreams.  Tim is the other side; the side of O'Brien who addresses the reader and admits to loss and sorrow, and to the addiction to carrying the lives of his friends on his shoulders.
As much as we, as human beings, are in constant search for what is true and what is reality, is the truth worth the pain and suffering?  Is there something to be said about the benefit of living in an ignorant bliss?  If emotions are the truest part of life, why not just live in a dream and be happy?

2 comments:

  1. This, for some reason, takes me back to the age old question of: "If you could fully know and understand someone or something, would you?" Naturally, we are inclined to say "Yeah, of course" or "Why not?". Omniknowledge (hope that is a word) would be sweet, right? But what I often remind myself about is the fact that there are some things that we just don't want to know. We tell ourselves that we do, but we don't. Sometimes learning the truth, and knowing definitively the answer to something, is not the best course of action. Lies can be comforting; it is easier than admitting the hard truth and learning about something that, while you tell yourself the otherwise, you don't want to know about. Once you know definitively, you can't undo it; you can't take back that knowledge and unlearn it. Ignorance can be bliss. Lets say for the sake of a comparison that I underperform on a given exam. Truthfully, even if I walked out of the test-room with the gut-feeling that I bombed the exam, I don't think I'd care terrible much until I received the graded test back with the big red "D-" on it. I fully argue that ignorance can be bliss. Some things people just weren't meant to know the full truth about. Is it wrong? Yeah! But it is also really comforting.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think the question you pose is a great one to ask. In both Vonnegut and O'Brien's novels, the reader is made aware of both the harshness of the lives of the characters and the use of lies to cope with that very harshness. Thus, we are presented with what Vonnegut calls the "heartbreaking necessity of lying about reality, and the heartbreaking impossibility of lying about it". We can easily tell ourselves lies to make our existence seem a little bit better, but in doing so, we acknowledge the very misery we are trying to avoid. This appears to be the dilemma of the reader and likewise, the dilemma of each author is how they go about helping the reader. Do they leave them in utter hopelessness, consciously living out a life of white lies? Or do they instill within the reader hope, hope that lies and stories "can save lives"? How each author helps the reader ultimately comes down to the author's own choice and we as readers are subject to that will.

    And John, I find it interesting that you say that the idea of ignorance is bliss is wrong. Why can't lies be right? After all, the intricate lies of O'Brien's stories and perhaps all piece of literature can have immense utility in helping the reader cope and, in the case of O'Brien, the author. Furthermore, Vonnegut proposes that all we can do to handle the meaninglessness of existence is by believing in these lies so that we can stay sane, and so we can live out our lives "brave and kind and healthy and happy". Is this wrong? Or is it just not ideal?

    ReplyDelete