Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man: Is there happiness in religious doctrine?

I just finished reading James Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man this past week and I was very intrigued by it. The prevalence of the Catholic church and its doctrines throughout the book intertwined with the developing stream of conscience from a young man to an artist of the book's protagonist seems to be the very paradox that modern times often mocks as unrealistic or detached. One cannot recreate reality without overstepping into the boundaries of God, or the higher power. Art cannot exist within the confounds of a convention as harsh as the Catholic church, right? And those who do choose to create art who also subscribe to the church, must be unhappy, because they are "stifled" by the unimaginative confinement of a traditional institution, right?

From what I know of James Joyce's life, he opposed the Catholic church because it he "found it impossible to remain in it on account of the impulses of [his] nature." But, in this lies the inherent problem of the artist. How does the artist balance his or her belief system with the urge to create? How does the artist remain happy and balance belief with creation?

I think Stephen, the novel's protagonist is a prime example of an individual who protects himself from sadness, from the gifts the Catholic church has to offer, but falsely thinks that by protecting himself from the church to succumb to his own nature, he ultimately protects himself from happiness. Stephen finds himself dejected and his soul depraved upon the rejection of the Church and reconciles himself to its teachings.

Stephen is ultimately happy at the end of the novel upon the culmination of his life into a work of art itself, but only after establishing a balance between his religion and his art. So, do we protect ourselves from sadness by rejecting our internal beliefs to feeding the needs of our human nature, and ultimately protect ourselves from happiness by doing this? Is our happiness and indication of whether we can reconcile our morals with our wants?

Pope John Paul II has much to say on the nature of the artist, saying that we are all artists, but the reconciliation of structure with creativity is the ultimate form of inner peace.

"What is the difference between “creator” and “craftsman”? The one who creates bestows being itself, he brings something out of nothing—ex nihilo sui et subiecti, as the Latin puts it—and this, in the strict sense, is a mode of operation which belongs to the Almighty alone. The craftsman, by contrast, uses something that already exists, to which he gives form and meaning. This is the mode of operation peculiar to man as made in the image of God.

Not all are called to be artists in the specific sense of the term. Yet, as Genesis has it, all men and women are entrusted with the task of crafting their own life: in a certain sense, they are to make of it a work of art, a masterpiece."

Beloved and the Meaning of Happiness

"I like marriage. The idea"

Often times, an idea and the execution of that idea are two separate entities. In Beloved, idea of freedom and living in freedom seems to be different to Sethe, Paul D, and the other slaves. Beloved's presence in Sethe's life, despite her freedom, is a constant source of slavery and subordination. Perhaps Morrison is trying to tell us that what we do in captivity determines our fate in freedom. Sethe murdered Beloved and Beloved subsequently haunted 124, and her ideas of freedom, openness, and room to breathe are compromised.

Sethe, while in captivity, chose to murder her baby girl. She believed that by murdering her, she would protect herself from the sadness of knowing her daughter was subjected to grotesque actions. She wanted to know her daughter died in peace. But, by protecting herself from this sadness, Sethe ultimately protected herself from happiness when she was freed. Taking control of another's destiny and not accepting one's own fate while facing danger or abject situations ensures that inner peace cannot be found. That true happiness in the face of freedom cannot be realized.

The association of happiness with freedom is very prevalent. Inhibitions are associated with enslavement or internal alienation. So, when we are free, we must be happy, right? No. As Beloved has taught me, the actions we commit and who we shape ourselves to be while facing adversity, enslavement, or unjust subjugation from others, determine our happiness in our states of freedom. We cannot be happy unless we are peaceful inside. And when we are both free and internally peaceful, we are truly happy.

Much like King Lear in lack of happy moments, Crime and Punishment is yet another literary ray of sunshine. It is not a feel-good book, but it does provoke thought far beyond the realm of commonplace. The element of happiness is very much alive in Crime and Punishment even though the plot is not sculpted around sanctioning within the reader the sense of it. I believe Dostoevsky's purpose in writing Crime and Punishment is to explore the discrepancies between the inner and outer self and to draw parallels between the things we protect ourselves from and the things our characters lack. Raskolnikov is a character blinded by pride and a sense of entitlement to the world and all it has to offer, regardless of what he offers in return. By succumbing to pride's grip and suffocating under its weight, at the beginning, Raskolnikov seems to be protecting himself from the other vices of his hostile world. But, by protecting himself from the society he loathes so greatly, Raskolnikov reveals a lapse in moral direction and a lack of a strong sense of self-conviction. He is, in essence, weak, highly contrary to the great man he believes himself to be. He protects himself from the dejected nature of society, from sadness. In doing so, however, Raskolnikov, also removes himself from the possibility of feeling happiness. Although Raskolnikov's world seems to be severely devoid of the natural elements of what we consider congenial, his world is also real. Only when Raskolnikov confesses does he truly return to reality. Perhaps it is only in touching reality that we truly understand where our happiness lies.

After Raskolnikov commits the murders, he is initially removed from society, still emotionally detached. However, as the book progresses and Raskolnikov begins to question his motive and his inner conscience. He begins the shift from pragmatic thought to thought grounded in emotion, that questions the unseen. Pride clouded Raskolnikov's mind, protecting him from falling victim to his abject surroundings. Pride simultaneously prevented Raskolnikov from seeing reality, from understanding the divergence of his feelings from his actions at times. Toward the end of the book, two tears fall from Raskolnikov's eye, indicating the presence of truth. Since the shift of the book is from logic to emotion, perhaps Dostoevsky is asserting that truth is unseen and in intangible. So, then, is the unseen entity, God, the only source of reality? Thus is faith the only route to true happiness?

Lear: Happiness to the Reader and the Writer

I just finished reading King Lear, arguably the most depressing work of literature of the English language. Within the plot of the play, however, are endless messages regarding betrayal, deceit, sadness, madness, love, hate, disguise, chaos, and happiness. The prevalence of the nature of happiness throughout the play is strong, but I think no one ever chooses to expound upon the presence of the messages of happiness and hope within the play because Lear is so excruciatingly dark and desolate. In many ways, Shakespeare's King Lear is in fact a message of hope. Maybe there is a light at the end of such a disheartening piece of work.

Let's start with the first light at the end of the tunnel. At the end of the play, Lear finally realizes the mistake he made when he banished Cordelia, his only loyal daughter. Isn't realizing a mistake a positive aspect of human nature? Then, Edgar, who we can all maybe agree was loyal to his father for the entirety of the play becomes King. It's the classic story of good overpowering evil. Valiant Edgar, in the midst of the violent plight between all the other volatile characters, swoops in to take over the throne (depending on which version you read) and lead with magnanimity and honesty. Also, in the end, the lovely Regan and Goneril die. Evil is dead. But then, there is the question of why Lear and Cordelia and so many other noble characters died concurrently with nasty Goneril and Regan. Lear and Cordelia both died in the face of honesty, integrity, and righteous principle. Regan and Goneril died as abhorrent persons. So, the death of evil and the death of good suggests that maybe Shakespeare was actually trying to show the beauty in destruction and chaos and loss of life. Or maybe he was trying to say the state in which we die is the true nature of our souls, innately beautiful or inherently evil.

So, I think there is actually a hugely positive message we can ascertain from Lear. I also think the question of happiness and sadness, aside from pertaining to the play, also pertains to the reader of the play. Upon initial examination, I think people are quick to judge that Lear is truly as sad as it gets. Maybe readers protect themselves from feeling the true passion of this play by remaining close minded, that nothing good lies in a play like Lear. But, I think that being close minded with regard to reading the play protects us from seeing the hopeful message at the end.

Now, the relationship of my big question to King Lear, within the actual play, is pretty big. King Lear himself, for starters, is the classic example of a person protecting himself from sadness. At the beginning, he tries to protect himself from feeling dejected by demanding praise from his daughters. When Cordelia doesn't oblige, he is offended. By trying to protect himself from a devoid of feeling loved through words, Lear falls prey to duplicity, and oversees the genuine nature of Cordelia. He unknowingly protects himself from happiness, feeling true love from Cordelia, for temporary protection from feeling sad.

I think that ultimately, King Lear is the only one of Shakespeare's works that I have been able to connect with. The entirety of the play forces you to ask yourself, "what is the quintessential element of my being? Deceit or benevolence?"

Oedipus: Fated Happiness?

Oedipus Rex chronicles the story of a man plagued by chance and true destiny. In the midst of his struggle to accept his fate is Oedipus' encounter with the nature of happiness. In the play, the chorus sings of happiness as a transient feeling, more predetermined than undecided. So is happiness predestined for those who are not slaves to a doomed fate?

At the revelation of the true origins of Oedipus, he violently blinds himself at the pain of his crimes. His fate was unavoidable, he was subservient to chance. In the face of the adversity of his crimes, Oedipus never protects himself from sadness, but becomes vulnerable to it's grip in his search for the truth about his sins. Oedipus did not protect himself from sadness, and consequently protect himself from happiness. He directly sought his own sadness, unknowingly. Thinking he was searching for happiness in truth, Oedipus was merely pursuing his own anguish. The power of chance throughout the play attests to happiness being unknowingly predetermined for those who are not threatened by fate.

The Pursuit of Happiness

I hadn't showered in eight days. My entire body was covered in a thick layer of old sunscreen and insect repellent. The humidity of the Jamaican jungle stuck to my skin like cement and the bugs whirled around my face in pandemonium. The sun's rays beat down on my face and a bead of sweat skated down my nose into the grass. I was miserably hot and in desperate need of a cheeseburger and a real shower. But, as I walked through the soggy ground toward the gazebo, I realized that my problems were small and insignificant.

The sounds of morning prayer filled the air with a pounding spirit as I entered the gazebo. 32 children in wheelchairs sat in rows, smiling, laughing, shaking tambourines. They could not walk, and most of them could not talk. My only present problem was the lack of a shower and American food. I looked around amidst the clamor and found peace in their happiness despite their troubles. My heart stood still at their smiles. I understood that these children were not present in full mental capacity, but I could feel the presence of their spirits. And their spirits were unequivocally happy.

It was here, deep within the Jamaican jungle, at an orphanage for the country's most vulnerable, the "unloved", that I discovered the power sadness and despair possessed over happiness. I asked myself, Does our fear of sadness impede our happiness?

The children in Jamaica were abandoned because they were disabled. Because they were not perfect. I could not help but feel a sadness for these children that I could not liberate. As my trip came to a close, I finally realized that the children were not sad or dejected, they were loved and respected. And for this, they were inherently happy. In the beginning, I chose to distance myself from the children. From the sadness. And by doing so, I distanced myself from feeling their happiness.

And, on the plane ride home, as I read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Foer, I read this:

“You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”

Foer's exploration of Oscar's grief and maturation throughout the novel is indicative of human nature and it's tendency to not want to feel pain or grief or sadness. But, he writes that feelings of anguish are adversities which the human spirit must always undergo and that suffering through sadness to feel happiness is a pathway to understanding the essence of the human entity. Because, after all:

“Feeling pain is still better than not feeling, isn’t it?”