I became greatly discouraged as I first began reading the book. I quickly overcame this, and became enraptured by the exquisite detail of the beautiful desert the larger portion of this novel is set in. “The road they followed was a wild and beautiful one. It led up and up, by granite rocks and stunted pines, around deep ravines and echoing gorges. The top of the ridge, when they reached it, was a great flat plain, strewn with white boulders, with the wind howling over it.” (47) Unfortunately, as the same setting was repeated in different descriptions, it became boring and dreary.
When I first researched about the novel, before I selected it, I only knew that it would be about an artist as she grows up and interacts with those around her. So, I figured that I would be able to relate to said artist. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have made such an assumption. Artists, in definition, are all different and vary immensely, much like everyone else. I used to think that most artists grew and adapted to, or changed and altered, the world around them in similar ways. Perhaps that is the one thing I learned from this book, that artists develop in several different ways, some that are almost incomprehensible. For example, as I had mentioned in my first reading response, I think that Thea, the protagonist, has strange relationships with older men. I’m going to assume that there are others who would agree with me, as it seems like a rather uncommon happening. “Thea’s twelfth birthday had passed a few weeks before her memorable call upon Mrs. Tellamantez. There was a worthy man in Moonstone who was already planning to marry Thea as soon as she should be old enough.” (40) This is not something that would occur in modern times without causing some sort of ruckus.
As I stated in my apologia, I learned that some artists grow in varying fashions, some even in ways I’ll likely never comprehend. This is frustrating for me, as I like to understand things that I learn about, but I suppose I’ll have to continue living, anyways. Being an artist myself, I really was hoping to learn something eye-opening from this book, something that would help me get ahead in the art world. All I’ve learned in that context is get ahead while you can, which is something I learned as a child. One more thing I learned about being an artist, is a more refined definition of artistic growth, “Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. The stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is.” (398) Indeed, it is one of the few things in this novel that I can relate to.Or perhaps I’m merely kidding myself. Of this, I’m unsure. Like Thea, I myself am an artist with some degree of talent and skill. However, unlike Thea, I’m always holding myself back, never giving myself enough time to work on projects, artworks, or musical creations. Perhaps I’m merely afraid of success. I was always told, as a child, that I would never achieve anything. So that is what I came to believe. I came to be afraid of achieving anything, as it would prove the theories that I’ve believed for the longest time to be wrong.
Perhaps, like the waving of a white flag in the midst of a brawl, this novel has called to me to allow myself to achieve something. Or, there is indeed nothing to achieve. All I can do, like Thea, is to show the world what I have to offer, and be ready for whatever hell it throws back. I may as well be thankful for this novel for inspiring me to attempt to take on the world. It probably won't happen, but I can always hope.
