andamu

As children we would pick a figure -- Cinderella or the Lone Ranger or Joan of Arc or Charles Lindbergh or Lawrence of Arabia -- and pretend to be them, perhaps act out with our imaginary or real friends a pivotal scene known to us, and then give our imaginations free rein to create what happened next.

When we get older, our questions of "why?" "what was the context?" "how come?" "what next?" could be adressed (among those of us who are big enough nerds) by tackling the books -- and the internet -- to research the answers to those questions.

But what if the answers cannot be found, if no further information exists? What if the story took place four thousand years ago, or 350 years ago, and nothing else is known about the incident or even the main characters, with just a bit more surviving about the supporting characters in the story?

Well, then we fall back upon our rich imaginations to create a story, an answer to our own questions. This is certainly not a new technique, and it has been practiced in both its literary and visual form for as long as stories have been told and as images have been made. It has been applied frequently even when more details do exist, in fact, because few people can resist a good tale.

And this is the overt aspect that The Red Tent and The Girl with a Pearl Earring share, this fascination with a historical figure set within the context of more well-known characters, portrayed in a brief snapshot; in one case a famous but mysterious painting, in the other a single chapter in Genesis.

Both works share a meticulous attention to historical detail, the result of thorough research to understand what life had been like for people in their situations, what the social structures were, what occcupied daily life, what the environment and facilities were, even what utensils were available.

As Anita Diamant said in an interview, she wanted to make sure that any errors made in her novel was not of historical detail. Fittingly, the movie version of The Girl with a Pearl Earring relied heavily on other contemporary paintings by Dutch and Flemish artists to ensure the visual authenticity of its scenes and props.

But even within their authentic settings with realistic interactions, both works remain fictional; imagined stories to give life and voice to the characters, both before and beyond the snapshots we have of them. And it is this fictional aspect that draws the heaviest criticism of The Red Tent, the fact that it takes a biblical story and reinterprets it.

And yet this has been done throughout the ages, both verbally and visually; just look at the selection of paintings in the previous post. See how they have been set in contemporary (to the painter) settings, the appointments and clothing, the interactions and the embroidering upon the tale.
Think of the fact that there are four gospels relating the same set of events, and they frequently contradict one another. And the four different writers (or traditions) identified within the books of Moses and the significant ways in which these differ among themselves, even with respect to the creation story.

It is ironic to note that many of the plot details for which Diamant is most criticized are actually borne out by biblical references directly: the malicious and murderous nature of Simon and Levi, the infamy of Reuben and the like. But the charge which might be the most serious is that in this novel that gives a voice to women in the Bible, and is therefore labeled a feminist work, a rape is dismissed as a consensual act. It certainly is a grave accusation, and cause for concern because it is a situation that many women face.

At the same time it has to be remembered that we are dealing with a culture and a period when women were frequently killed for perceived sexual transgressions; women caught (or even suspected of) adultery were stoned while men walked away scot free. It was also a time when such exaggerated punishments were meted out and revenge exacted that it gave rise to the law of "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" in order to curb the runaway violence.

But this is not intended to be an apology for either work, or an exercise in biblical exegesis, nor a discussion of the Diamant story within a religious context (although I certainly would be willing to engage in such a respectful discussion with anyone interested).

I found both stories wonderfully rich, sensuous experiences, deftly told within realistic settings. They evoked empathy with the main figures, explored rich themes, caused (well, still are causing) me to ponder issues alluded to in the works in the broader context of everyday life.

No, I did not find the movie to be too slow, lacking in plot or dialogue. I did not find it cryptic or incomplete as many who have read the book first have complained. The unanswered questions with which I am left are just the start of my own imaginings, the best place to be.

And I found the book to be fascinating, extremely well-written, disturbing and enlightening. It helps that I have an interest in ancient civilizations and history I suppose, but the wealth of factual information is never presented as a dry lecture. Nor does she patronize the reader; details about everyday events and actions are unfolded matter-of-factly as part of the tale.

If I have a criticism against the book it is the latter part, after she reached Egypt, and her son becomes grown. The whole narrative becomes shallower, less engrossing, more perfunctory. Mind you, Diamant's "perfunctory" might be another writer's "detailed and committed," it suffers mostly in comparison to the earlier parts.

In all, both works I feel are to be highly recommended; no doubt I will be returning to them repeatedly in future.