Boundaries

Art connects itself, at least it does for me. That’s why I have problems with many modern novels and films. I gravitate toward the old. Take photography and literature, for example.

Ansel Adams is widely considered one of the finest photographers ever, along with Dorothea Lange, Carol Highsmith and others. Let’s take Adams. One of the striking things about his work, as he processed it, was the gradation of tones from solid black to pure white. They set the perimeter for the multitude of shades between. Then he dazzled us with the glorious interplay of those tones.

It provides one a footing from which to enjoy the totality of his art, at least it does for me.

Now take Charles Dickens, one of my favorites since a seventh-grade teacher, Mildred Truelock, suggested that, at age 12, Jimmie give Mr. Dickens a dry. It’s been a life-long adventure, though I think perhaps I should have put A Tale of Two Cities off a few years.

What did Dickens do that makes me think of Ansel Adams? His characters matched the tones in Adams photography. Consider David Copperfield. Our protagonist therein faces life framed between the purely good figure of Peggotty and the abysmally bad Uriah Heep. There young David roams with some good but prone-to-backslide characters such as Steerforth and Mr. Micawber. Then there’s the flawed perfection of Mr. Dick, Aunt Bessie, and Dora, their near-goodness shining alongside the ideals. His characters cavort freely between the moral perimeters of good and bad.

Compare that with a popular movie, one that I’d rather spend a week in Branson Missouri than have to watch again. That would be No Country For Old Men. Try as hard as I might, I see no shred of purely good in any character. The same holds true for so many novels. I invariably turn back to my old pal.

We need boundaries for our scales in our life, black and white so to speak, whether we’re taking photos, telling stories, or playing the piano. True artists can make beautiful music between the extremes.

Yes, I know there are exceptions. You can search a Philip Roth novel with a magnifying glass and not find a consistent set of redeeming qualities.

But unless you are Philip Roth, why not stick to classics?

See? No muddy imagery here.