Written by Isabella Halteman. Graphic by Anna Porter.
So many of our days are filled with working towards finding the reason behind things, why we feel a certain way, why someone said that something is happening, and just generally finding answers and reasons behind everything. That is exhausting, and it can often blind people from taking a step back and enjoying the feelings that the things you come in contact with can give you. Plus, forcing everything to have a functional reason is doing yourself a disservice. Ideas such as the importance of visual aesthetics have often been deemed useless because they do not have a functional use other than “looking pretty.” Enjoying maximalism versus only having what you need in a minimalist way or spending a lot of time on your hair, makeup and outfits is a waste of time for some people, but for others, it is a vital part of getting through the day. The question of why does not always need to be asked, and it definitely does not always need to be answered.
Art is overly criticized in this way, where a viewer does not see a reason behind why something was created and immediately deems it stupid and useless. Standing in an art gallery staring at a bowl of oranges, not understanding why it is there, and then walking out feeling like you are better than everyone else because you don’t think it should be displayed; that mindset is robbing yourself of the possibility of standing in an art gallery and gazing at a beautiful bowl of oranges that is allowed to just be a bowl of oranges, and that is reason enough. Fiction has this critique often as well, where readers who prefer non-fiction feel as though they are smarter and more advanced for choosing to read biographies and history books rather than books about dragons, magic and fantastical worlds. I feel sorry for those people because the corners that fiction can stretch to and transcend are truly a gift that we all should let ourselves take advantage of. But it does not need to be reinventing the wheel to be worth your time.
Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll is a poem filled with gibberish that makes sense because it doesn’t make sense. If that makes sense. Found in the 1871 novel “Through the Looking Glass,” a sequel to his famous “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” the narrative of the poem follows a father who is warning his son about the “Jabberwock,” as well as more wonderful creatures such as the “Jubjub” bird and the “Bandersnatch.” Most of the nouns, verbs and adjectives in this piece are made up of nonsense words created by Carrol. I say “it makes sense because it doesn’t make sense” as when you read the poem through context clues and follow the narrative, you can make sense of what each made-up word means, my being frabjous, chortled, burbled, and mimsy.
The minds best intended to follow the narrative in this way are children. Children aren’t going to be bogged down by making sense of the story. They just want a story. And the funny, nonsensical words only aid in describing the nonsensical world they were entirely created for. I think of Dr. Seuss and other children’s writers who incorporate this same technique: taking advantage of children’s active imaginations to move their stories along.
Now, it could be argued that there is meaning behind everything, and every author writes a piece for a specific reason, which is meant to have a specific lesson or message hidden inside. But if we head down that road, we won’t ever reach a conclusion unless you bring Mr. Carroll back from the dead and ask him yourself.
What I am merely suggesting: Take a page out of a children’s book and trust your imagination more. Believe in the disbelief.
Isabella Halteman is a sophomore Performing Arts major with minors in Creative Writing and Vocal Performance. She is a Copy Editor for District, editing and publishing articles on our website. She also enjoys writing poetry and creative personal essays. Outside of school, you can find her singing in her car, baking and cooking, and watching old movies.
