This final blog of 2010 I dedicate to my favorite novel of the year, Elegance of the Hedgehog by French author, Muriel Barbery. I loved the book! Best of the year!
Earlier this month, Blues met to discuss the novel. Not all comments were favorable. Carolyn rattled off a list of flaws that disqualified the novel from the realm of ‘serious’ literature--unconvincing characters, implausible plot, over-reliance on coincidence. Though funny and wise in spots, Carolyn observed that the novel ‘nibbled at the edges’ of serious fiction. Martha agreed. Helen nodded to me as if to say: You take it.
I pretty much disagreed with Carolyn on everything. I loved the two main characters, Renee and Paloma--the way the two came to the same conclusions from two different perspectives. Most of all, I loved the intellectual banter, the play of philosophy and cultural criticism through generational, class and ethnic difference. In short, the novel conveys a whole lot of intellectual baggage with grace, wit and charm. C’est vraiment elegante.
I reached the mid-point of the French edition of the book, having struggled for weeks with the language, which is easy compared to the more difficult aspect of the book: Phenomenology. The novel, in my view, is a sophisticated play upon Phenomenology; and understanding this strain of thought is key to understanding, hence, appreciating the novel. So this weekend, I waded ankle-deep into Phenomenology, the study of concretely experienced phenomenon, free from conceptual presuppositions, that underlies the structure of the thing itself.
Wrap your brain around that, then ask: What thing? Answer: Any act of consciousness in which the thing reveals itself to itself. Got that?
Phenomenology theorizes the possibility of direct access to knowledge through experience, unmediated by cultural meanings and presuppositions. Moreover, in this intentional ‘act of consciousness’ (the thing itself), the essential structure of the thing itself is revealed, as well as the essential relationships between the thing itself and the its objects of apprehension.
That’s the hard way of describing Phenomenology. An easier way, as Helen suggested, is this: Being aware of being aware. I’ll offer another: The experience of knowing that you know something without knowing how or why. Like intuition. A word, a movement, an image triggers a ‘direct experience’ in which you suddenly know the deep meaning of something that reveals the meaning of the thing itself as well as your relationship to it. You know the thing. You know that you know but haven’t a clue how you know.
Here’s a ‘for instance,’ Elizabeth Edwards, wife of Johnny, died two weeks ago. Not long before her death, I saw her. I was driving toward town late one afternoon along Old Greensboro Road. Just there, at the circular paved entrance to the Edwards compound, a car slowly approached the drive. Behind the wheel, alone in the car, sat a woman lost in thought, her face illuminated by the low-hanging sun.
Before thinking of whom she might be, a memory flashed in my mind--the memory of my mother as she turned into the driveway of our house in Idaho Falls upon her return from a week-long trip to Salt Lake. I remember sitting on the curb all afternoon waiting for her green and white Ford station wagon to appear. Dad worried was that she might not come home--their marriage at a low point--and stay in Salt Lake. What that might mean to the family was what kept me on the curb throughout that hot, summer afternoon.
At long last, the green station wagon appeared, moving slowly, wearily up the street. As the station wagon drew closer, I could see my mother behind the wheel. The look on her face matched that of Elizabeth Edwards. A look of determination, resignation and, above all, sadness. Instantly, without thought, I knew what Elizabeth Edwards was experiencing at that moment. And I knew that I knew. She was weary. She was resigned, determined and very, very sad.
The Elegance of the Hedgehog is full of these ‘phenomenological’ moments. My favorite is the moment when Renee, the hedgehog, reveals herself to Ozu. In the section, “Infinitesimal” (pp.134-6), Jacinthe Rosen tries to ingratiate herself to Ozu, the new owner. Will the concierge please show Mr. Ozu the out-buildings? Show him where to pick up the mail. She notices the door mat hasn’t been cleaned. In a grammatical slip, Mme. Rosen asks if the concierge would please bring the door mat to the cleaners?
Without thinking, Renee cringes at Mme. Rosen’s grammatical error. She notices that Ozu also cringes. In that infinitesimal nano-second, she is sure that the two are joined “in linguistic solidarity by the shared pain that made our bodies shudder . . . .” Renee also realizes that in that infinitesimal nano-second that Ozu has found her out. In the moment, he sees the essential structure of (essence of) Renee and thus sees his own relationship to her. Henceforth, Ozu observes Renee with “a very different gaze. A watchful gaze (p. 134).”
There are many other examples of these phenomenological moments in the book. Certainly there is more to glean from how the author plays these out in the narrative. What interests me are the applications, insights of Phenomenology upon Elegance. Specifically, the idea of direct, unmediated knowledge that flows from experience, knowledge that reveals the essence of the thing apprehended and the essential structure of relationship between knower and known.
Chew on that awhile!
Wishing to all a very Happy New Year!
