8-19-13<\/p>\n
I attended a local theater production of \u201cFiddler on the Roof\u201d this week. The legendary musical and the Yiddish story that inspired it concern themselves with assimilation, and, of course, tradition \u2013 the writer Sholem Aleichem was a sensitive genius \u2013 but I found myself, this week, seeing it as a strong treatment of the relationship of fathers and daughters.<\/p>\n
One reason might be that this week was the first anniversary of my granddaughter Sarah\u2019s birth; followed after nine days by her death. The precious preemie, in the words on the grave marker her parents placed over the tiny casket, will always be loved and never forgotten.<\/p>\n
We cannot quantify, and scarcely begin a manner to measure, the loss and grief in the hearts of mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, husbands and wives, when death visits us. \u201cOnly those are fit to live who do not fear to die; and none are fit to die who have shrunk from the joy of life and the duty of life. Both life and death are parts of the same Great Adventure,\u201d said a hero of mine, Theodore Roosevelt. He wrote this after his son Quentin was killed in a World War I dogfight over French battlefields; we he left unsaid is the anguish of those left behind as others join that Great Adventure. And those who watch die a child not yet of the age of knowing.<\/p>\n
I thought further about the notable paucity of father-daughter relationships in sacred writings, mythology, and literature. Unless there is a hole in my memory (and I invite discussion) the subtext of Aleichem\u2019s story is a rare theme. Think: most of the resonant generational male-female stories in the myths of Egypt, Greece, and Rome. are mother-son, not father-daughter. Isis married her brother and became mother of Horus. The legend of Oedipus was, famously, a son-mother tale. The complicated cosmogony of Roman deities was comprised of some father-daughter relationships, as of course anything emanating from life, real or invented, cannot avoid \u2013 however, virtually all of the significant relational myths are father-son, brother-brother, or, sometimes, mother-son.<\/p>\n
In the Bible it is rather the same. Fathers have daughters, of course, but the significant stories and lessons seldom involved fathers and their daughters. Adam and Eve had two sons; Noah had three. Abraham was challenged to sacrifice his son\u2026 with the attendant emotions and reflections readers cannot avoid. Indeed, God the Father arranged that His only begotten Son be sacrificed. Lot\u2019s daughters? Not our role models. Naomi and Ruth: meaningful story, but not father-daughter. We revere Mary through the Magnificat, and empathize with her presence at the cross and the tomb, but by inference.<\/p>\n
In literature we find, again, numerous enough examples of fathers and daughters, but portrayals are seldom invested with the cathartic implications of male-to-male relationships, or mothers-and-sons. Curious, really. Often, characters who are the daughters of fathers are cast as manifestations of rebellion or symbols of fulfillment \u2013 filling roles of the weak paterfamilias. Interesting literary devices, but, again, failing to examine the love, the special love, that exists between father and daughter.<\/p>\n
A few examples: Shakespeare\u2019s daughters often were social surrogates more than generational, emotional partners. In \u201cRomeo and Juliet,\u201d Juliet came of age and was willful in part because her father, Capulet, was not. The rebellions of Desdemona and Jessica (in \u201cOthello\u201d and \u201cMerchant of Venice\u201d) were as two-dimensional as the compliance of Ophelia in \u201cHamlet\u201d; that is, bereft of mature love. Pure hate we see in the daughters Goneril and Regan in the tragedy of tragedies, \u201cKing Lear,\u201d while their sister Cordelia is an exception that proves my rule.<\/p>\n
In more recent literature, the daughters in the novels and plays of Goldsmith, and the novels of Austen where they rose to be lead characters, asserted themselves almost always as patient surrogates for weak-willed fathers. Their fulfillment usually was prompted as much by duty, or pity, as much as by love. The same can largely be said of the daughters in Thackeray and Dickens.<\/p>\n
Well, I have broken my intention of keeping this introduction to a compelling riddle brief. I will segue by wondering (a facile escape, not a logical answer) whether fables, and the Bible, and literature, come up short on treatments of father-daughter bonds for same reason they seldom address why the sky is blue or why trees are made of wood: the obvious need not be addressed. But 10,000 speculative essays cannot convey the truth, and the depth, of father-daughter love as to experience, as a shy and crusty bad dancer, the invitation to dance with your daughter to the corny \u201cDaddy\u2019s Little Girl\u201d at her wedding reception.<\/p>\n
So the \u201cFiddler\u201d performance reinforced my thoughts on the anniversary of Sarah\u2019s death. Early and in distress, she lived only nine days.<\/p>\n
Pain and sorrow, especially for Pat and my Heather and Sarah’s two brothers Gabe and Zach, will never disappear and scarcely dissipate, although God grants peace and acceptance in His measurements of grace.<\/p>\n