Witches and Widows
I am reading the Widows of Eastwick, in honor of John Updike's passing. His Rabbit Redux was one of the first adult novels (in the good sense of the word) that I read, when I was 17 or so. RR caught that 70s mix of "straight" culture and post-hippie culture in which I lived during most of the 70s—even though it was written in 1969. I loved it and cried over it. I know I read the other Rabbit novels, but none stands out to me.
Now, as for Eastwick, the movie about the Witches was one of my very favorite of the 80s, with Cher, Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfeiffer in their juicy prime. And Jack Nicholson as the Devil—what perfect casting, if not typecasting. Sort of a guilty pleasure, but so what? It was based on a respectable novel. I am sure I read the novel, but the memory of the movie is imprinted. Which leaves me with slightly sketchy basis on which to read the Widows.
In reading the Widows, I am noting Updike's swirly, smooth prose (the part I want to quote here would embarrass me; go read it yourself) and his uncanny ability to inhabit women, to understand them (not unlike Nicholson's character in the movie, really).
Here's to John Updike, a great American novelist.
3 comments:
What is a guilty pleasure? Especially when it comes to the arts and entertainments?
Are some pleasures good or noble or admirable while others are bad or ignoble or contemptible - something to be ashamed or feel guilty about?
And if so, how does one know, judge and choose? And why not - despite the knowledge and judgment - choose the bad, ignoble, contemptible? As we often do?
Oh, come on you know what I mean by "guilty pleasure."
And---it feels good to be bad, in a safe way, obviously.
"... feels good to be bad, in a safe way ..."
A fascinating and baffling phrase, for me. Help me see clearly what this is about?
What I see, and do correct me if this is a false picture: one does something; the doing feels good; there's the thought that the activity is bad; but that's overcome or neutralized by another thought: that the way it's being done is safe; so, the good feeling is permitted or affirmed and perhaps enhanced by this second thought, the claim or knowledge of safety.
The activity is watching a movie, and sometimes reading a novel; but it's the content that's bad not the activity per se.
My guess is that when most of us feel bad about the content of an entertainment or art, it's about sex or aggression, often a mixture of both.
The safety is there because it's only pretence, only a simulation, not real. And it's not see then do (as in monkey see, monkey do); but is watch instead of doing; the watching (and reading is watching with the mind's eye) somehow diminishes or eliminates the inclination to do, is a purge or at least amelioration of the urge, inclination or wish, and often also of the fear, and perhaps memory, of the inclination or wish and where it might lead, what it might bring ...
Catharis. Therapy. Watching as substitute for doing but more important as medicine for the feelings aroused by wishes, wants?
Accurate so far?
More questions include: where does the initial thought that it's bad come from? An inheritance of sorts?
A part of the morality, ethos, worldview, culture in which we are born and raised? When this comes into conflict with our individual inclinations, why do we often seek out not the old religious forms but instead our novel entertainments?
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