je ne sais quoi
i know it's been a while... this post may or may not have been worth the wait.
it is a woman's struggle to know and believe that she is beautiful. indeed, in this time, in this world, as in any perhaps, the cultural standards of beauty are hollow and unattainable, so we are left to struggle in a losing battle. without innate confidence, we seek to define our beauty by the perceptions of others rather than something objective and true. we peruse pages of magazines and frames of films for an absolute of beauty (but how can beauty be found there, in these static, lifeless images?), and we are left believing, often against our own best intentions, in a hierarchy of beauty where even the top-most positions are precarious and unsatisfying. it seems to me that beauty is not in the shape of a face or in the tone of skin (though these can be more or less pleasing subjectively, i suppose), but in the élan, the intangible spirit that exposes itself in the eye or the laughter or the touch, that can startle in unexpected moments.
this leads me to a particularly lovely passage in virginia woolf's jacob's room.
"as for the beauty of women, it is like the light on the light on the sea, never constant to a single wave. they all have it; they all lose it. now she is dull and thick and bacon; now transparent as a hanging glass... the women in the streets have the faces of playing cards; the outlines accurately filled in with pink and yellow, and the line drawn tightly round them. then, at a top-floor window, leaning out, looking down, you see beauty yourself; or in the corner of an omnibus; or squatted in a ditch - beauty glowing, suddenly expressive, withdrawn the moment after. no one can count on it or seize it or have it wrapped in paper. nothing is to be won from the shops, and Heaven knows it would be better to sit at home than haunt the plate-glass windows in the hope of lifting the shining green, the glowing ruby, out of them alive. sea glass in a saucer loses its lustre no sooner than silks do. thus if you talk of a beautiful woman you mean only something flying fast which for a second uses the eyes, lips, or cheeks... to glow through."
it is a woman's struggle to know and believe that she is beautiful. indeed, in this time, in this world, as in any perhaps, the cultural standards of beauty are hollow and unattainable, so we are left to struggle in a losing battle. without innate confidence, we seek to define our beauty by the perceptions of others rather than something objective and true. we peruse pages of magazines and frames of films for an absolute of beauty (but how can beauty be found there, in these static, lifeless images?), and we are left believing, often against our own best intentions, in a hierarchy of beauty where even the top-most positions are precarious and unsatisfying. it seems to me that beauty is not in the shape of a face or in the tone of skin (though these can be more or less pleasing subjectively, i suppose), but in the élan, the intangible spirit that exposes itself in the eye or the laughter or the touch, that can startle in unexpected moments.
this leads me to a particularly lovely passage in virginia woolf's jacob's room.
"as for the beauty of women, it is like the light on the light on the sea, never constant to a single wave. they all have it; they all lose it. now she is dull and thick and bacon; now transparent as a hanging glass... the women in the streets have the faces of playing cards; the outlines accurately filled in with pink and yellow, and the line drawn tightly round them. then, at a top-floor window, leaning out, looking down, you see beauty yourself; or in the corner of an omnibus; or squatted in a ditch - beauty glowing, suddenly expressive, withdrawn the moment after. no one can count on it or seize it or have it wrapped in paper. nothing is to be won from the shops, and Heaven knows it would be better to sit at home than haunt the plate-glass windows in the hope of lifting the shining green, the glowing ruby, out of them alive. sea glass in a saucer loses its lustre no sooner than silks do. thus if you talk of a beautiful woman you mean only something flying fast which for a second uses the eyes, lips, or cheeks... to glow through."
posted by Rachel at 7:03 PM
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