I am surprised by how impressed I was at the end of this story. What begins as an artist musing about how she would paint the small moon snail, an aquatic creature whose shell she found as she walked the beach, ends as a reflection about the changing beauty of creatures. Hurd starts the essay with a quote from Aristotle:
"No very small animal can be beautiful, for looking at it takes so small a portion of time that impression of it will be confused."The author disagrees at first, remarking on the curves and colors in the shell. She then takes several paragraphs to describe the hunting process of the snail and how it finally captures its food, which seems to have taken much research (point for Hurd). She decides she will paint a triptych, the definition of which I had to look up. A triptych is a three-paneled painting, and Hurd finds that it is necessary because the beauty of the moon snail changes when it hides from its own predator, the starfish, it crams itself inside its shell to a claustrophobic point, organs squeezing against the shell walls. "Aristotle notwithstanding, this has nothing to do with size but with unseemly proportions and the reminder that need so often vulgarizes form" (198-99). Hurd believes that when "hunger and threat intensify"that beauty recedes, and she leaves readers with an image of her painting's final panel, which would depict snails squeezing themselves in their shells, to the near point of death by suffocation.
This essay actually reminds me of a science class I took my freshman year called Animal Kingdom... otherwise known as the most boring class ever. Without coffee to get me though, that class was hell. Nonetheless, I went every time because the professor tried so hard, and I actually did find some of the information interesting. We spent a great deal of the time watching videos about sea creatures because they are the beginning of our evolution. I find sea creatures thrilling because they are "the unknown," and actually many are so small that you can hardly see them, but they are extremely beautiful [aside over].
I think that Hurd does an excellent job with the scientific description in her story, so that impresses me. Then, I am left musing about how beauty can recede in all of us when greed, hunger, or threat face us. We are not snails, I know. But like snails, when we threaten or are threatened, our appearances change to a darker state. That can be both outer and inner appearances, just like the snails. When we are angry or defensive, our ugly sides emerge – eyes glare, words burn. Hurd is accurate in her final thoughts, and thus I am pleased with where she leaves me.
-Sorry that was so long, I just ended up really liking the essay.-
This week I also read:
"From Two or Three Things I Know for Sure" by Dorothy Allison
So I haven't read your analysis yet. I just got really excited when I saw its title is "Moon Snail" and I have no idea what that might mean but it sounds fantastic. Moon snail, a parasitic disease that's victims are left with crater-like scars on their skin, IF they survive. Moon snail, a descriptive term for a lazy werewolf. Endless possibilities.
ReplyDeleteI'm so disappointed it's a real snail species.
ReplyDeleteBut it seems Hurd did something exciting with it anyway. I really like the quotes you pulled out from the essay; she sounds disgustingly insightful. I also liked your aside, it was fitting and I appreciated your making a response more enticing to read. Nice. Hurd makes Aristotle sound like a bitch, which may or may not be easy to do, depending on your inclination for small things.
ReplyDeleteShe says ugliness exists. Then beauty exists side-by-side. Then insists there's also something else in the mix. That we need a third panel, a triptych, to see anything represented clearly.
ReplyDeleteI'm interested in this concept, having become suspicious of the beauty-ugliness juxtaposition that seems to dominate drama.
Cool.