The Moon: A Comfortable Subject
Mr. Palomar is in a relentless struggle between idealism and relativism.
In The Naked Bosom he is both aware of cultural context and its effect on human perception, yet he simultaneously still clings to the idea of objective truth, and trusts in his ability to perceive it; the result of this is that in attempting so vigorously to avoid objectifying the woman, he actually does so in consequence.
The Moon in the Afternoon is perhaps the most poetic of all the passages. It is the only one in which one can argue that Mr. Palomar is at peace with the limits of human perception;
Reply to Brooke:
Glad to see I'm not the only one who read the other chapters. I agree, Mr. Palomar is a rather selfish observer; he doesn't seem to grasp the idea that the world exists without us, and things that go unobserved do not in fact require an observer. It reminds me of something I watched a long time ago, where there is a painter who spends years dedicating himself to capturing the cosmos in all its beauty; he even travels into space and visits all the planets and stars, observing all the different alien landscapes and phenomena. Though he does become famous for creating his massive and beautiful paintings, he stops creating them after traveling the universe, as he realizes that, frankly, the cosmos is fine on it's own—it doesn't need him to capture it, as it already exists.
Reply to Paul:
Agreed—Mr. Palomar is projecting his need to be seen, and the human desire to feel essential, upon a celestial rock. The moon does not protest when defined within the boundaries of idealism, and Mr. Palomar, a man in deep conflict between his knowledge of the relativity of things and his need for importance, can feel safe in his defining of it.
In The Naked Bosom he is both aware of cultural context and its effect on human perception, yet he simultaneously still clings to the idea of objective truth, and trusts in his ability to perceive it; the result of this is that in attempting so vigorously to avoid objectifying the woman, he actually does so in consequence.
The Moon in the Afternoon is perhaps the most poetic of all the passages. It is the only one in which one can argue that Mr. Palomar is at peace with the limits of human perception;
"In this phase the sky is still something very compact and concrete, and you cannot be sure whether it is from its taut, uninterrupted surface that this round and whitish shape is being detached, its consistency only a bit more solid than the clouds', or whether it is a corrosion of the basic tissue, a rift in the dome, a crevice that opens onto the void behind."Perhaps his acceptance in this circumstance is because we already know the nature of the moon, we have defined it as a celestial body, and so he is content with his observation; he has seen it many times before, and unlike the wave, it has an easily defined boundary. He states that the moon is "the most changeable body in the universe," but also that "it never fails to show up for an appointment;" Mr. Palomar takes comfort in it's reliability. Wherever one views the moon, it is always in it's designated position, and whatever one's role in society, it's nature is easily agreed upon; hence, Mr. Palomar can comfortably observe it idealistically, with the knowledge that his perception of it will not vary from that of anyone else. The moon will not stand up and cover itself as the woman did, and the moon does not ripple endlessly outwards as a wave does; Mr. Palomar is free to observe it as long as he wishes, and if he were to stand there for months doing his observing, his definition of the moon would not change. It is his confidence in this reality that allows him to safely project his own desire to be essential, to be needed, upon the moon:
"At this point, assured that the moon no longer needs him, Mr. Palomar goes home."
Reply to Brooke:
Glad to see I'm not the only one who read the other chapters. I agree, Mr. Palomar is a rather selfish observer; he doesn't seem to grasp the idea that the world exists without us, and things that go unobserved do not in fact require an observer. It reminds me of something I watched a long time ago, where there is a painter who spends years dedicating himself to capturing the cosmos in all its beauty; he even travels into space and visits all the planets and stars, observing all the different alien landscapes and phenomena. Though he does become famous for creating his massive and beautiful paintings, he stops creating them after traveling the universe, as he realizes that, frankly, the cosmos is fine on it's own—it doesn't need him to capture it, as it already exists.
Reply to Paul:
Agreed—Mr. Palomar is projecting his need to be seen, and the human desire to feel essential, upon a celestial rock. The moon does not protest when defined within the boundaries of idealism, and Mr. Palomar, a man in deep conflict between his knowledge of the relativity of things and his need for importance, can feel safe in his defining of it.
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