What happened is, we grew lonely living among the things, so we gave the clock a face, the chair a back,
the table four stout legs which will never suffer fatigue…
and because we loved graceful profiles
the pitcher received a lip,
the bottle a long, slender neck. From Things by Lisel Mueller
Things. Robert Louis Stevenson considered, “The world is so full of a number of things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings.” Yet as stores get bigger, appetites become larger, and certainly at this time of year advertisements appear wherever you look, it appears that we may not be “as happy as kings”. The poet, I’m sure, was not thinking about IPods or toasters!
I was ruminating on this aspect of life in 21st century United States while leafing through the first pages of the New York Times magazine one day First up: a blond woman in a tub, staring out at me, her hair, even her eyes as golden as the fixtures; spigot, handles, even the soap on the tub. Her earrings too, earrings in the tub? She was advertising something but I’m not sure what. I turned the page and there she was again, brunette this time, striding purposefully toward a car; black, sleek , shiny a Jaguar, a Rolls? Where am I supposed to focus here? Nice boots, chic hat, dripping jewelry, but she doesn’t look very happy. Then I see, at the bottom of the page, the words “Ralph Lauren”. So it’s probably not the car. Maybe the boots, her coat, the gold watch?
My imagination takes her out of the shot, getting into her car. She taps the chauffeur on his shoulder, “Home, please.” She gazes at her Rolex with its beautiful face; but the beautiful face doesn’t smile back at her; admires the gold hands, but they can’t clasp hers. Once home, she sees her Persian carpet on the floor, but it just lies there, not able to get up to greet her. Sitting on her Chippendale chair to remove her Ferragamo boots, she sits against the back, but it is stiff and cold, not a back you can lean on. Its legs are strong, sturdy, but it refuses to walk with her to the kitchen. She touches her mouth to the lip of the Meissen teacup, but the cup doesn’t kiss her back. Slipping off her diamond ring, she lets it fall on the counter. She wishes it would live up to its name and at least ring out a welcome. Tired after a long day shopping at Bergdorf’s, she sheds her Lauren suit, tosses her Hermes scarf on the dresser and gazes into the open mouth of the closet, but the closet doesn’t speak.
No wonder this model never looks happy. She seems to reflect a disembodied desire, an obsession with stuff that simply ends with the possessor being possessed by the possessions.
Lisel Mueller’s poem, which I quoted at the beginning of this piece, suggests that we grow lonely living among things, so we give our possessions personalities under the illusion that they might keep us company.
God saw everything that was made, and it was very good. God’s world is so full of a number of things that, though we may not be exactly “as happy as kings”, surely it is time to recognize that God-given gifts are our most precious possessions. Then we will have a smile on our face, a spring in our step and light in our soul.