Quixote Pertinent Life Lessons From

Quixote

Pertinent Life Lessons from Cervantes' Don Quixote: Beauty is in the Mind of the Beholder

There are a number of stories that have stood the test of time, being adapted and repeated through the ages and remaining relevant and enjoyable to listeners and readers. Many of these stories have their roots in mythology and ancient religions, such as the fairy tales told to children in almost every human culture known to exist. Another obvious example of an enduring story -- or collection of stories -- is the Bible, which has persisted to be meaningful to people over the nearly two millennia of its existence (in one form or another). These stories have a notable effect on the way that stories are told and interpreted, and often form a fundamental background for more contemporary endeavors and cultural attitudes. This is certainly true of the Bible, which is in many ways the bedrock of Western literature and attitudes, whether or not one adheres to the specific beliefs that are contained within its pages (and regardless of how one interprets/determines what these beliefs even are). There are other examples that are perhaps less well-known and less influential, but that still retain a high degree of relevance in the public consciousness.

Miguel Cervantes' Don Quixote is one of these stories. The tale of the misguided would-be knight errant and his dim-witted but big-hearted sidekick Sancho Panza has remained highly popular over the four hundred years since it was first printed, with characters and themes that people of all ages and backgrounds can identify with. Even on a subconscious level, many of these themes can be seen at work in Western society, both reflected in and perpetuated by the brilliance of Cervantes' story-telling and literary skills.

Cervantes was writing as the world was expanding, with new opportunities for Europeans in the New World, new religions forming in the wake of the Reformation, and in general an increased feeling of self-direction and independence. There is still a definite sense in Western society that the world can be what we are willing to make of it, and Don Quixote embodies this concept wholeheartedly. For him, beauty and nobility exist wherever he is willing to perceive them. This is seen at virtually every turn in the text, and is often juxtaposed with the more pessimistic and base perspectives of the everyday citizens with whom Don Quixote is surrounded. It is the contrast between these perspectives that makes Cervantes' point both so poignantly clear and his text so entertaining to read.

One prime example of this aspect of Don Quixote that comes fairly early in the book is when the Don entreats an innkeeper to dub him a knight. The two figures are standing in the stable -- no doubt a musty, smelly, and dirty out building -- when Don Quixote falls on his knees and begs for the honor of being granted knighthood, saying that, "to-night I shall watch my arms in the chapel of this your castle" (Cervantes, chapter III). Despite the baseness of his surroundings, Don Quixote sees a chapel, a holy place of reverence and one often bedecked with finery. This is the reality that Don Quixote responds to, and so for all intents and purposes it is reality, at least for him. He is able to enjoy the beauty and solemnity of his surroundings, making the event more meaningful and fulfilling.

The innkeeper, meanwhile, of course thinks Don Quixote is nothing but a foolish old man, and doesn't even pity him. He tells Don Quixote that the stable is not the chapel, that the chapel has been pulled down, and that instead Don Quixote should watch his armor in the courtyard outside. All of this is done with a specific purpose in mind: "The landlord told all the people who were in the inn about the craze of his guest, the watching of the armor, and the dubbing ceremony he contemplated" (Cervantes, chapter III). To the innkeeper and his guests, Don Quixote's imagination is a spectacle and a way for them to entertain themselves at someone else's expense. They do not see what he sees, and so they mock him. Their world becomes colder and crueler because of this; they will not permit their imaginations to see a greater beauty in the world, and so for them this beauty not only doesn't exits, but is worthy of derision. This makes Cervantes point about fashioning the world in the way we want it to be even stronger than Don Quixote's fancifulness on its own.

Another incident that illustrates the same basic points comes closer to the close of the novel, when Don Quixote dreams that he is fighting a giant. During the course of the dream, he slashes open wine skins, believing he is spilling the giant's blood and even severing its head, thus fulfilling the quest he has set for himself. When the landlord sees what he has done, he leaps upon Don Quixote, "and with his clenched fist began to pummel him in such a way, that if Cardenio and the curate had not dragged him off, he would have brought the war of the giant to an end" (Cervantes, chapter XXXV). The landlord is enraged about his spilled wine, and meanwhile Don Quixote doesn't wake up even with the severity of the beating he receives. The tow men's different views on what happened clearly illustrate the creation of beauty -- and despair -- through the interpretation of the mind.