Whenever I walk the streets of Chicago, I marvel at what I see and I
wonder if what I am experiencing is anything close to what my father
experienced as a child growing up there. When I struggle to learn
certain concepts in a university class, I gaze at my professor and
wonder if he has ever wrestled with those same issues. Anytime I
tread ground that has been trod by others, I have to stop and wonder
if what I am experiencing is anything close to to what they saw,
heard, and felt as they came before me. The first time I read
Watership down was no different.
Having just graduated from high school and still seeking the
independence that comes with such liberation, I wanted to read new
books and explore new ideas. I wanted to move outside the realm in
which I had just spent the last four years. Watership Down was a
recommendation from my favorite high school teacher. Because of my
deep admiration for him, I liked the book out of principle—long
before I ever opened its pages. Taking a recommendation from Mr. Ward
would have been enough to make me read that book, but everything
about the title seemed to suggest adventure to me, and that made me
want to read it all the more.
As I began reading, I not only found the adventure promised by the
title, but also elements of suspense and fear. I found myself falling
in love with the characters and wondering if Mr. Ward had felt the
same way about them. What had he thought about the words in that book
when his mind first pondered them? Did he find the same fascination I
had when he read all the asides about the rabbits' culture and their
preferences? It caused my imagination to run wild thinking about all
of the events in my life and whether or not my experiences coincide
with the experiences of everyone around me.
There was no way of knowing what every single person has thought or
felt as they have experienced the same things I have, but I could
relate to the characters in the book, and the book gave me insight
into their thoughts. With all of my previous questions left
unanswered, I was left to ask new ones as I analyzed a story about
rabbits rather than the story of a sunken ship that I had originally
supposed this book to be. What potential thoughts could theses
fictional rabbits have had when they were going through what they
went through? Better yet, what could Richard Adams have thought when
he created those rabbits? When he crafted his own mythology for them?
When he made up a language for them! That book inspired so many
questions, and though I didn't always find the answers to those
questions, the more I read, the more I was intrigued.
The thing that intrigued me the most was Adams's ability to develop
the thought processes of his characters. Most of the time it seems
that my perspective in such contrast to those around me. As I read
though, I find that I am not as unique as I often think I am. Adams's
characters display reason, they show emotion, and they struggle to
overcome challenges with pride as can be seen in their countless
decisions to ignore the clairvoyant comrade Fiver who never fails to
predict the future with accuracy. His predictions of danger are
ignored by the group, the way we often ignore the sure signs in life
that serve as guideposts to keep us away from danger. Not only is
their pride made manifest in the willful rebellion against Fiver, but
also in their desire to prove themselves. This is wonderfully
illustrated in the main character Hazel who at one point gets shot in
an attempt to pull off an unnecessary stunt.
The prideful behaviors of the rabbits parallel many of my own
prideful behaviors, and I would be willing to bet that there are even
some reflections of Adams's behaviors in his writing as well. My
seventh grade English teacher relentlessly used the phrase “you
write best what you know best.” I have found this to be true as I
have listened to Stephen King say how much he loves scary stories,
and it follows that Adams's novel is a reflection of who he is. Maybe
his writing goes no further than a reflection of his enthusiasm for
wildlife and mythology that he is able to weave into the same place,
but I think it's more probable that his story is a commentary for
things he experienced, or things he saw other people experience. In
either case, there were many things that I was able to pull from
these characters and apply to my own life.
Adams's character development is essential to his story, but there
is so much more depth to it than simply the characters. It's the way
he brings them to life. His use of frame stories and language
transform his characters and give them so much complexity. He
accomplishes this mainly through his invention of the rabbits'
history. Frequently Adams will include a legendary story told by one
of the central characters. The technique not only gives the reader a
refreshing change of scene to keep his attention, but it gives
legitimacy to the rabbits' background and makes the possibility of
their existence more believable. In addition to the background, there
is a whole spoken language that Adams creates for his rabbits that
defines not only the way they think, but also the hierarchy and
functions of their culture. Each element that Adams uses to establish
the rabbits' complexity makes them that much more real, and in turn,
that much more relateable.
Adams's characters and use of language in his story are beautiful,
but the thing I loved best about his book was a characteristic not
physically present in the words on the page. As with all good
literature, it excited my imagination and transported me away from
reality. Watership Down became one brick in a large edifice that is
my love of literature. Any my mind in captivated by the beautiful
structure of words as it was with this book, I am transported back to
a time in my youth when teachers encouraged imagination and
idealistic dreaming. I am transported back to a time when the
“important” things like working to afford rent were only specks
on the horizon, and the simplicity of a child's imagination could
provide him with more than all the temporal treasures in the world.
The value of Watership Down is far more that its intrinsic value as
literature. Its value lies in it's ability to do what all good books
do; it motivates the reader to think higher thoughts, to dream
dreams, and to imagine a world whose importance transcends the
everyday “importance” of life.
I've never really wanted to read Watership Down (because I had a traumatic experience with it as a child) but now I kind of do want to. Your tone is very personable and pleasant to read. As I read your narrative I considered ways that you could expand this to include Alice in Wonderland and the thing that I thought most about was the growing up sort of theme. I don't know if growing up is a theme in Watership Down, but it sounds like your experience with it may have been when you were growing up and Alice in Wonderland definitely deals with themes about growing and developing, so that might be interesting. Fun to read for sure, good job! :)
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