Tag Archives: P.D. James

What the Empty Crib Means to Us

 In P.D. James’ novel, The Children of Men, couples are no longer able to conceive children. The novel introduces us to a society that lost the ability to produce offspring after the current generation of young adults. A wistful, lonely, alienated people remain in this childless world.

Though it is doubtful we will ever reach the circumstances portrayed in this book, some developed nations (Japan and Italy, for example) are seriously concerned about enough children not only to support the elderly but also to supply enough citizens to assure a vibrant society.

Parenthood is the unsupported career. Though an emotionally involved parent is in a sense always attached to a child, the most physically taxing part of the career is over with by the time the child is five or six. By the time the child reaches ten or so, the parents have shaped most of his or her character.

Back when families had five or ten or more children, parents spent the majority of their lives at the job of parenthood. Nowadays, birth control allows most adults to have children only if they’ve chosen to—at least, if they recognize the responsibility procreation requires.

We don’t support parenthood like we used to, for various reasons. Many choose not to be parents, a responsible decision. However, for those who do choose or who want to be parents, society is geared toward discouraging them at every turn.

Since most young adults require full-time jobs to meet financial needs, adding children to the picture is challenging to say the least. And in an age when money assumes the most important means to the good life, raising a child bites a chunk out of that.

Cheers to the last person in America in hopes they will have fun with their selfies.

 

On Looking Into Jane Austen’s World

I just finished reading Death Comes to Pemberly by P.D. James. It’s something of a sequel to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. The book’s protagonists are a long way from Adam Dalgliesh, the investigator in James’ detective series. Yet the characters still engage in brooding inner dialog, in this case about honor and family loyalty.

Like many, I find enjoyment in Jane Austen’s novels, as well in the movies and Masterpiece Theater remakes. What is it about life portrayed in the Austen stories that accounts for the revival of interest in her work? Few of us would want to live in those days of rigid social systems, poor sanitation and medical practices, and lack of modern conveniences. Why, then, the appeal?

Perhaps we yearn for the order and civility that we lack in our lives today. Even more, the sense of family and of family loyalty, of honor and common values, appeals to us, I think.

Those times were brutal to the poor and vulnerable and stifling to others, such as women forced into limited roles. We have greater equality today and more enlightened views about women and class. We enjoy freedom of religion and are not forced by community expectations to sit through boring sermons in established churches, already calcifying even in those days.

Yet we have lost something, too, a sense of community and of belonging. We have lost standards of decency and behavior. Those in Austen’s day frequently fell from the standards they professed, but at least they had standards.