Agreeing to Disagree by Anjelo Reyes

 In Chapter Twelve of To The Lighthouse, Woolf shows an interesting dynamic between Mr and Mrs. Ramsey: 

"He Should be very proud of Andrew if he got a scholarship, he said. She would be just as proud of him if he didn't, she answered. They disagreed always about this, but it did not matter. She liked him to believe in scholarships, and he liked her to be proud of Andrew whatever he did."

I often hate the concept of agreeing to disagree. When we argue with someone, and, if we care about them, shouldn't we try to come to an agreement regarding important matters? Shouldn't we agree on the values we hold?

In this passage, Woolf suggests otherwise: in serious relationships--especially in marriage--agreeing to disagree is a very healthy thing. 

One of the things I admire most about Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey's relationship is their ability to keep each other independent. I feel like despite marriage, the two are able to hold on to a strong sense of individuality. 

Agreeing to disagree seems related to this. In allowing another person to hold different values or to disagree with you, you don't try to bend that person to how you want them to be. You simply let them be, and doing so acknowledges that person's humanity. It acknowledges their freedom to think and be themselves. 

Another thing Woolf shows us is that we can love a person for the very reasons they disagree with us. As shown in the passage, Mr. Ramsey wanted Mrs. Ramsey to be proud of Andrew whatever he did, just as much as Mrs. Ramsey wanted Mr. Ramsey to believe in scholarships. In disagreeing with each other, they are reminded of why they fell in love with the other to begin with. It seems that Mr. Ramsey loves Mrs. Ramsey because of her free-spiritedness, and because she would always be proud of her children no matter what. Conversely, Mrs. Ramsey fell in love with Mr. Ramsey for his sternness and his dorky belief in the value of scholarships. They are reminded, ultimately, of their stark differences, but it is through such differences that they are reminded of their love. 

(Mr. Venkatesh wanted pictures, so I'm inserting a painting I painted when I was 17. Its picture of two trees that actually kind of remind me Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey. I think it's pretty obvious which one is which)



Comments

  1. Krishnan VenkateshFebruary 28, 2021 at 8:43 PM

    Beautifully expressed, Mr. Reyes, and I like the trees too. It's the space between the trees that's important, isn't it? The trees may be microscopically connected at the roots, deep down where we can't see, but they have to give each other space to grow, indeed even seem to be very separate. It's a kind of tact, but also a realistic approach to partnership that recognizes that we can't entirely penetrate or even follow another person's mind and heart. As you say, the more usual way is intolerance of difference -- sometimes even anger that the other person can't see what we see.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Some ramblings on the poetic -- Miz Eustice Poetry seems to be borne of and to live more in the realm of imagination than reason if the mind can be so generally categorized. Or perhaps it should be said that it is some mixture of heart and brain. I’m not sure. Sometimes I think it's divine.   I’m not sure where else its strange greatness could come from. I’m not even sure how to describe what poetry is. It is not just its form, its sounds, it is more than the sum of its parts. I read somewhere once that poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance.   Poetry is not like reason, it is not a power exercised by the will. Perhaps one can will oneself to write poetry, but not great poetry. It is more within the general grasp to reason correctly than to make something beautiful. I can only imagine what it is like to do such a thing. Creation seems mysterious, and there is something almost seraphic in it—something invisible and intangible and temperamental that rises from within in an o...
Read more

Some Post-Discussion Reflections on Dickinson’s “Because I could not stop for Death –” by Ms. Bucher

Image
   Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun – Or rather – He passed Us – The Dews drew quivering and Chill – For only Gossamer, my Gown – My Tippet – only Tulle – We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground – The Roof was scarcely visible – The Cornice – in the Ground – Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity – Photo: “Because I could not stop for Death –” fanart found on Etsy   Some music that may set the mood: Igor Stravinsky's Elegy for Solo Viola .
Read more

Genealogy Reflections in “The Bear" (Bucher)

  Gen ealogy Reflections in “The Bear” by Ms. Bucher   We have spent much time in class stumbling over the genealogy in Go Down, Moses . When trying hard to follow the twisted, obscure genealogy, it is clear that the McClaslin family tree is a complicated double helix of both white and black branches. But the power of the family dynamic becomes even more powerful the moment that Issac McClaslin, grandson of patriarch Lucius Quintus Carothers McClaslin, pushes away his inheritance of the plantation. The question brought up in class many times still plagues me: Why does he reject his rightful ownership of the family land? Possible reasons come to mind easily: He may not want the responsibility for the care and support of all the people, both black and white, that live and work the land. He has been raised in large part by Sam Fathers who taught him to love nature, the wild, and the liberty of a life unfettered by any interest in social or economic expectations. And he needs to b...
Read more