Wednesday, January 07, 2009
The mystique of Wilder
I never resolved the mystery of Wilder, a small, vulnerable and lovable little boy in a wild and dangerous fictional landscape. The scene where he inexplicably cries for hours and hours resonated deeply with me. It reminded me of my youngest nephew and the frightening two years he spent adamantly crying, but not talking, like children his age should do. For that reason this storyline touched me, but I think it has broader significance: In a world that is a communicative and sensory blitz, Wilder grabbed attention for what he didn't say.
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Yeah, I didn't get a great handle on Wilder's significance aside from the fact that he was not verbal. He didn't make noise, which was maybe why the crying stood out. And it's not just noise, but a primal noise, and a mysterious one because a lot of times the reason for a child's tears are known only to himself — and because we can't fathom the reason we attribute it to something beyond knowing, something metaphysical and weird and having to do with the "innocence" of babes and all that, like children are closer to purity than we will ever be. We study them — and puppies, I might add! — for signs of a purer existence.
Is his silence why Babette latched onto him?
I liked Jack's observation of Wilder: "I liked being with Wilder. The world was a series of fleeting gratifications. He took what he could, then immediately forgot about it in the rush of a subsequent pleasure. It was this forgetfulness I envied and admired."
I'm about to post a related thread, but I also wondered if Wilder's significance -- and perhaps, Ben, the way Babette and others fussed over him -- was he was sort of a victim of a toxic overload. I may have read too much into the remarks about his delayed speech, but I assumed he was autistic or had some other developmental disorder. Heinrich had a premature receding hairline ... can't remember if there were clues about the girls, but I thought maybe there was some toxic environmental effect taking its toll on the younger generation. Maybe I'm assuming too much?
There is something sort of relaxing about being around babies or toddlers. You can sort of let your guard down and be yourself, because you know they won't judge you. You can act foolish, and they don't know the difference.
And Wilder is silent, in contrast to everyone and everything else in their lives.
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