Warning: contains major spoilers for the film Paterson
This is the second of Iris Murdoch's philosophical works that I've read in the last month. It's not quite as outstanding as The Fire and the Sun, which was written a bit later, but I still held it in high regard. I can fathom why people are currently reassessing her as a philosopher and taking her work more seriously. In both books, she delves into the same core themes: what does it mean to be a good person, what is the essence of art, and does art assist us in becoming good people.
Murdoch's responses to these inquiries are rather straightforward. We don't ultimately know the precise meaning of being a good person, yet it's not something overly mysterious. It pertains to the evident moral challenges we encounter all around us: being selfless, loving those close to us, and seeing the world as it truly is rather than as we desire it to be. Needless to say, all of these aspects are extremely arduous to accomplish, but that shouldn't deter us from attempting. Generally speaking, she adopts the commonsense stance, which is unfashionable among many philosophers, that what we think and feel is as significant as what we do. Perhaps the thinking and feeling don't have an immediate impact; however, it alters the kind of person we are, and when the moment arrives to act, it will determine what we ultimately do. Regarding art, and especially with respect to literature, she unequivocally asserts that it is a beneficial thing. Indeed, in an era where religion has largely been debased, she contends that reading literature is now the only spiritual exercise accessible to many people. By learning to distinguish between good, truthful literature and bad, false literature, and moving towards the former and away from the latter, we will gradually refine our sensibilities and become better individuals.
People who spend a great deal of time on Goodreads might find this a little too reassuring. Of course, it's also impossible to overlook the fact that Murdoch spent a substantial part of her life penning novels and is more or less compelled to defend that as a praiseworthy activity. But if you're skeptical, Jim Jarmusch's remarkable new film Paterson could almost have been crafted to uphold Murdoch's line of reasoning. Paterson, on the surface, appears to be an unremarkable and even dull individual. He wakes up at 6.10 every morning, consumes a bowl of cereal, and departs for his job driving a bus. He returns home in the evening, has dinner with his girlfriend Laura, and then takes the dog for a walk. He drinks a beer at the local bar and comes home once more. However, Paterson's life is actually rich and exciting. He is a poet; all the while, as he walks to work or drives his bus, he is composing poems in his mind. He jots things down in a small notebook whenever he has a spare moment. No one except Laura is aware of his poetry.
We come to realize that Paterson is a good man. Near the end, an incident occurs that subjects him to a severe moral test. Laura is elated and excited; her project of baking cupcakes and selling them at the market has been a resounding success, and she has earned several hundred dollars. She impulsively tells Paterson that she's taking them out for dinner and a movie. They have a pleasant and romantic evening. But when they return home, there's a horrifying surprise. Disappointed by not getting his evening walk, the dog has gone berserk and shredded Paterson's precious notebook. He has no copy, despite the fact that Laura has pleaded with him several times to make one.
Most people, witnessing a year of their life being thus destroyed, would instinctively lash out at whoever was closest. If Laura hadn't disrupted their usual routine, the dog wouldn't have done it. But Paterson, despite his anguished expression, remains silent. He in no way attempts to assign even a fraction of the blame to Laura; he simply states that he forgot to place the notebook in its customary location. It's only when you reflect on it afterwards that you realize how extraordinary his actions are: not what he does, but what he refrains from doing. You understand why this beautiful girl loves him.
Maybe there's some merit to Murdoch's ideas.
