Blogging Quixote: Shattered dreams
With these arguments and this disquiet I traveled the rest of the night, and at dawn I came upon a way into these mountains, where I rode for another three days, with no direction or goal of any kind, until I reached some meadows, though I do not know on which side of the mountains they may be, and there I asked some drovers where I could find the harshest terrain in the sierra. They told me it lay in this direction. I traveled here, intending to end my life, and as I was entering these desolate places my mule collapsed, dead of exhaustion and hunger or, what I believe is more likely, to free itself of the useless burden it was carrying. I was left on foot, humbled by nature, broken by hunger, not having, and not planning to look for, anyone to help me. (225)
Cardenio, a young courtier, has been driven mad by the loss of his beloved. Seeing her given in marriage to his former friend, he flees to the hills, a broken and shattered person. Consumed by madness he roves the mountains, singing lament and flinging curses at the falsehood of his former love, and his friend.
This character is interesting to the degree that he is completely in earnest. His sorrow and pining for lost love stands in marked contrast to Quixote's contrived penance in that the reader can see he has just cause for lament. Where Quixote has been consistently deluded about the true reality of things, it is precisely the grittiness of that reality which has driven Cardenio into his deluded state.
My reason is so damaged and weak that I do a thousand mad acts, tearing my clothes, shouting in these desolate places, cursing my fate, and repeating in vain the beloved name of my enemy, having no other purpose or intention than to shout my life to an end; when I come back to myself, I am so tired and bruised I can barely move. (225)
It seems that Cardenio is the first character meant to be taken completely in earnest. To be taken on as an object of empathetic concern. Dulcinea, an earlier character, was pitiable in the burden of her beauty, but she spoke and acted from a place of strength, shaped circumstances around her to fit her desire. Here Cardenio has been completely overcome.
It is interesting to think about the depth of C's despair at the loss of love, his bitter grief. There is no check to his sorrow, no moderation on his despair. In a story where much in society has seemed worthy of satire and derision, the shearing pain of betrayed love seems the only thing presented thus far without tongue planted firmly in cheek.
Comments
"With these arguments and this disquiet I traveled the rest of the night, and at dawn I came upon a way into these mountains, where I rode for another three days, with no direction or goal of any kind, until I reached some meadows, though I do not know on which side of the mountains they may be, and there I asked some drovers where I could find the harshest terrain in the sierra. They told me it lay in this direction."
These lines are the harshest to me, the most desolate in the excerpts you included. Asking for the harshest terrain. I've been at this place in my own life, not in the same circumstances, though. But aren't we uncomfortable, disturbed with the depth of his despair? Is it our American culture or just our humaness that we can't go very far with him? We immediately begin to think of solutions or criticisms of this behavior. We are uncomfortable with pain. We are uncomfortable with the raw expression of pain. We fear being stuck there for life. If we go that far into our pain, into the recognition of our pain, we'll be stuck forever or we will commit drastic acts. We want a shield. I've used this shield (denial, distraction, positive cliches) within my own soul to try to ward off the raw pain. And I've used the shield to prevent me from moving towards another in pain.
Interesting to think about the consequences for our culture, our communities, our families, our relationships, ourselves in not acknowledging pain that is present.
I think it's easy to end up in communities that work together to prevent connecting with feelings like this. Maybe not consciously, but this collective avoidance, the ostracising of anyone who chooses to face that darkness and hurt. I have a friend who teaches, one of his students, a popular girl, has recently filed sexual assault charges against a relative. All her friends have left her. What would it require from them to acknowledge hurt like that. How many of there lives have been touched with similar pain that acknowledging hers would require them to revisit?
Heavy stuff. Thanks again, Rg.