Septimus in Wonderland

     After talking about Septimus in class, I realize that there is some method to his madness. I suppose I wasn't looking hard enough. At first glance, Septimus seemed to me to be a few fries short of a happy meal. Actually he seemed to be many fries short of a happy meal. The earth bursting into flames, the trees talking to him, the delusions of grandeur, and the voices telling him to kill himself all seem a little too much for me to make sense out of. The thing about Septimus that bothers me the most is that as far as we knew (for a while), he just has shell shock (or PTSD as we know it today). I did research on PTSD for health freshman year and none of my research shows anything where victims experience what can be described as something similar to an acid trip. This pre-existing knowledge made it even harder for me to understand Septimus. However, having recently learned that Septimus had some sort of voices in his head before the war explains quells my worries a lot. Now I can just accept that Septimus is just unique.
     So far, this whole 20th Century class has made me fell narrow minded. I didn't get the poetic sense of beauty in everyday life from the Mezzanine, and I haven't gotten a poetic vibe from Septimus' mind; at least not until today's class discussion. Reading Septimus' twisted observation on how all life is connected made me realize that there may be some method to his madness. I guess I just have to read a little deeper into his thoughts, which I plan on doing right now.
   

The Mezzanine and Aurelius

Even though I found this book as a whole to be dull, the little passage from Aurelius's Meditations, was somewhat interesting. I found this interesting because it seems to go against everything Howie stands for. The narrator Howie not only notices the little things in life, he celebrates and cherishes them like no one else. Howie gets more excited than even a child when he about such trivial things as escalators, milk cartons, staplers, perforated paper, and anything else that is commonplace in everyday life. These trivial items are all Howie seems to think about, all he seems to care about, and pretty much all that he lives for. Then suddenly, in the middle of his life of trivial delights, he comes across the following passage from Aurelius's Meditations:

"Observe in short, how transient and trivial is all mortal life; yesterday a drop of semen, tomorrow a handful of spice and ashes."

This passage seems to distress the narrator to his very core simply because it goes against what he believes in. The passage quite eloquently puts that nothing that anyone will ever do will ever amount to anything. One day you're enjoying life, the next moment, you're gone.

I think that this little inclusion of this ancient passage is the author's way of directly disagreeing with it. I think it is Nicholson Baker's way of saying that you have to enjoy the little things in life. Even thought Baker probably isn't as passionate about everyday things as Howie is, he seems to be arguing that there is some meaning to life and that there is even meaning to everyday things and events. That's what the entire book seems to amount to.