After months of reading, I have eventually come to the final pages of Cunningham’s most masterful piece of literature to date. Subsequent to winning a consolation prize from the college inter-school book review competition, I was rewarded a RM50 MPH voucher for which I benefited to purchase a precious copy of The Hours as my 20th birthday gift.After finalizing with some contemplation on the lucidly composed novel, I then come to understand the underlying essence of it. The 228-pages novel is certainly not less than three intertwining fictions across three different eras. Through close examination, it is a perfect depiction of reality, the insatiable desires in life and the resentment against both; having realized in the hours of an ordinary day.
Nothing is more worthy than the desire to live although delusion may mislead one’s truest survival spirit within. This is evidently represented by all leading characters in the novel. Mentally-destructive Virginia Woolf and the ill-dying Richard Brown both struggle in pain and misery to survive for their supposed worldly responsibilities. Both irresistibly cling on their obsession in writings, subsequently lose their talent, and thus find no value in living whatsoever. Their progress is of mere desperation to attain the unrealized desire, singled by hope to find satisfaction.
In contrary, Laura Zielski, the misrepresented homemaker finds more worth in dying than to live on and fulfill her motherly engagements. Constantly challenged by and deeming herself misfit to the role she is destined to uphold, she questions her functionality and struggles alone with discontentment and insecurity of her current position. While Clarissa Vaughn, Richard’s once-lover irresistibly clings on past happiness and yearns for its reoccurrence, it is altogether most apparent that these characters, even we ourselves seem to have insatiable desires that keep us moving forward but the attachment that generates dis-ease.
Consequently their choices are filled with distress and resentment as they conflict between domestic life and their fantasies. Almost believing that every individual deserves a desired, most extraordinary and exceptional life of their own in search for humanity, they resent the norm for failing them. Nevertheless, they too fail to convince themselves with absoluteness, without disappointment and out of unconditioned satisfactions for the choices made. Happiness sores and love despairs. No justification can seemingly be reached and only they alone can bring out the peace from within.
Perhaps, looking into what Cunningham meant (below), it is just part of life that we do confront such circumstances. It is the denial of this truth that brings about suffering as we hope for and cling on false idea of happiness. Arguing against reality; to insistently live in the dilusion of our self-created, imaginary, and perfected world is what brings about discontentment and suffering. Hence, we fail to live in the present and overlook existing enjoyment that we less value.
“Yes, Clarissa thinks, it’s time for the day to be over. We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts… We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep – it’s as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease… There’s just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem… to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagine, though everyone… knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything, for more…”
- extracted from Cunningham’s The Hours (1999)
It is most agreeable that the novel has stimulated a sense of relatedness, using the stream of consciousness to accurately unveil our momentary flashes of thoughts and feelings in writings. Ultimately, it is not the justification of choices that matters, neither the insatiable desires nor the discontentment. It is the reality that has to be realized, the reality that lies in the hours of our lives. Then and only then, will we gain wisdom and find peace within, thus appreciate every moment with real happiness.
(inspired by and dedicated to Kye-Niarchos and C. Alexel, avid fans of The Hours)
2 comments:
I've found the review of "the hours" from you is inspiring and revealing to the extent that it speaks something that i am always trying to speak out to someone who actually possess such intellectual rigour and enthusiasm towards the novel,in particular by someone who is out in the mainstream and being labelled 'popular'and 'fashionable'.I send my highest regard to the blooger aforementioned.
That was a very inspirational review from you, dear Jin-almahdi. The most important thing is to learn how to see these 'desires' more than what meets the eyes. Calmness, peace and serenity don't always synchronized with 'death' - it's just about de-taching ourselves from what keeps us from moving on.
Laura Brown didn't really found the peace that she hoped for - when her second child was died, her husband sufferred and eventually died too and his son Richard contracted AIDS and committed suicide.
Clarissa Vaughn realized it is not all about worldly happiness and perfection (or close to perfection) that makes life simple and easy. It's all about embracing your inner self, admitting of what you are, accepting it, forgiving of your past mistakes and letting it go. Then only we can move forward with a big smile on our face that says,"I'm happy."
Those are, I assume from my point of view, the ideas in which Mr Cunningham tried to convey in The Hours. It's about the misconceptions of death that brings peace, whereas peace can be acquired simply within yourself without having to go on top of the tallest mountain or killing yourself.
Bravo with the review!
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