Author: htomkowi

Literature of Witness

Something interesting that was brought up in class today was the year in time that the protagonist of the Borges piece experienced in his own mind. Someone brought up the question that if there’s no tangible record of this happening, no witnesses of the work he completed in his mind, did it even happen at all? It hearkens back to the whole “if a tree falls in the middle of the woods and no one hears it, did it fall down at all” question. Do we need a witness for something to be real?

I’m in another literature class right now called Literature of Witness, and as expected, we’re reading works written by primary witnesses — of the Holocaust, of slavery, and of life in prison. The fact that this extra year that the protagonist is granted, supposedly by God, is a “secret” miracle reminds us that the protagonist is our only witness. This brings me to think about the difference between collective testimony vs. personal testimony. In canons of witness, we see a lot of common themes depending on experiences that have been shared by many — individual accounts differ, but patterns often appear. If something happens to just one person, and one person alone, a secondary witness won’t do that experience justice, or even, perhaps, realize what has happened. This gets a little complicated when we bring up the subject of what is “real” and what is not, though. Because if reality is what we perceive, then wouldn’t the act of seeing or hearing the tree fall make the action real? At the same time though, just because I haven’t seen everything with my own eyes doesn’t make its existence unreal to me.

Truth and Reality in Dreams

When reading Act III, I was drawn to a couple of lines that Segismund says: “Come, Fortune! Off we go to reign, / So dare not wake me if I sleep / Nor let me sleep should this be true” (89). The idea of being awake as the “truth” made me think of a well-known line from the Harry Potter series. In the seventh and final book, when Harry is in a sort of limbo with Dumbledore, he asks: “Tell me one last thing. Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?” Dumbledore responds: “Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”

I think this is an interesting concept to think about in relation to this class, and to this piece. If we agree with Dumbledore, our imaginations or our dreams — the things we experience only in our minds — can be real. Can they then be true? Should we equate the “real” with the true? Does the reality change if we are aware that we are dreaming, as Segismund suspects he may be — if we are aware of the illusion (perhaps through lucid dreaming)? I don’t quite have answers for these questions yet, but I think they force us to re-evaluate a lot of how we perceive our experiences — when both awake and asleep.