It boggles my mind to recall that a mere five years ago, I was quite adamant about not wanting to have children when I grew up. Nowadays, I'm constantly fantasizing and making mental notes about how I want to raise my future kids, provided this dream comes true. My babies are going to grow up on Disney movies, Haydn, the Cosby Show, and Lemony Snicket books. I'm going to make sure that they keep up with current events...that they learn and remember how to ride a bike (unlike me), and that they learn and remember how to speak Chinese (also, sadly, unlike me).
Last weekend walking through Central Park, H and I started talking about how certain kids are so much more cultured/sophisticated, because their parents brought them up that way. They just know way more than the average person about things like politics, opera, and history...not because they're smarter, but because they were exposed to those things when their brains were new and fresh and young. While their parents perhaps prioritized this sort of knowledge, our parents--having immigrated and sacrificed everything so that we could grow up in the US--prioritized instilling in us this sort of sacrifice. It's not that they are less cultured; they just couldn't afford to be visiting museums and watching operas with us while learning English and working multiple jobs. I feel like when I have kids, I want to combine these two priorities, so that my children learn the basics of working hard and being obedient etc. but also go out and learn as much as possible about the world, rather than staying indoors doing homework or practicing piano all day.
I keep coming across books in particular that I really want to introduce to my kids when they're fairly young. Books like In Memoriam, which I'd like to read with them, a few poems per night or something...just because literature teaches certain invaluable lessons that one often can't identify on one's own. I think being exposed to this stuff early on gives anyone a head start on life, so to speak. While I'm REALLY thankful I'm learning these things now, I do wonder if I maybe would have made past decisions with more maturity and wisdom, if only I had discovered these books earlier on.
Which brings me to--MIDDLEMARCH! Middlemarch, by George Eliot, is one of the best books I have ever read. (It also happens to be one of the longest books I've ever read, but it's worth every one of its 837 fine-print pages.) Usually when I read something noteworthy, I underline/dog-ear my favorite quotes and post them here. However, with Middlemarch, this doesn't seem like a good idea because a) I dog-eared practically every other page, and b) lumping all the quotes together wouldn't give each one the loving attention and admiration it deserves. So I will write about one or two quotes per entry. I will admit that most of the time, thanks to my inherent narcissism, a quote becomes my favorite simply because I can relate to it so perfectly. Once in a while, a passage will strike a beautiful chord within me and express things I've been longing to say, put into better words than I could ever devise. It's as if the author is teaching me about myself. Thus, while writing about these quotes, I'm also essentially writing about myself.
So after this circumlocutory preamble/ramble, here is my favorite quote #1: Art is an old language...sometimes the chief pleasure one gets out of knowing them is the mere sense of knowing.
I spent a good couple hours at the Metropolitan Museum a few days ago. There was only time to really look at one exhibit, called "the Steins Collect" (http://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2012/steins-collect/). We walked through at least ten rooms full of paintings, reading every single placard next to it. By the end, I was exhausted, but I also felt like I could distinguish a Matisse from a Picasso from a Renoir without much trouble, and that was certainly a significant skill gained. I realized that my sense of satisfaction and happiness from that day at the museum wasn't the appreciation of art itself so much as the appreciation of KNOWING about art. To be honest, I probably spent more time reading placards than actually looking at the paintings they described. My understanding of art is at such an elementary level that I need the placards, the way a cripple needs crutches or a toddler needs training wheels. I can still look at a painting and instinctively feel whether I like it or not, appreciating it blindly (so to speak) without knowing why, but that is much less enjoyable to me...it doesn't feel complete, secure, or memorable. It reminded me of how, oftentimes at concerts, I get the sense that the majority of audiences derive pleasure from simply BEING there and knowing what's going on, rather than being moved by the music itself.
I can understand both sides. I just hope that someday I will know enough about art that I can surpass the mere enjoyment of simply knowing about it.
