Beginning with a
simile comparing the events to "dying", Dillard introduces one of the
overlying themes of “Total Eclipse”. She goes on to describe in great detail a
terrifying painting on the wall of her hotel room. It is of a "smiling
clown's head, made out of vegetables". Dillard then directs her attention
back to her experience with the eclipse. She discusses the long drive
"inland from the Washington coast". The focus of the essay then
returns to the hotel, where Dillard describes the events of a small lobby as
she and her husband wait to be assigned to a room. They remain at the hotel for
one night, and awake the following morning at six to begin their trip up the
hills. They perch, along with hundreds of others, on a "five hundred feet
high" hill to watch the eclipse. Dillard goes on to discuss a
"partial eclipse" she witnessed in 1970. She explains how a partial
eclipse "bears almost no relation to a total eclipse". Dillard tells
the reader that during the total eclipse the sky's blue deepens to an indigo.
Dillard directs her attention to the land around her. She compares all
vegetation to various metals and then begins seeing the world as a
"nine-tenth century tinted photograph". Dillard yearns to be back in
her "own century, the people [she] knew! And the real light of day".
As the eclipse takes place, Dillard hears screams erupt from the hillside as
every is plunged into total darkness. The author, in part three, discusses the
existential properties of a total eclipse. Following the eclipse, it takes the
author hearing a college student compare the ring of sunlight visible to a
"life-saver" to snap herself back into reality. In conclusion,
Dillard remarks on the highway during the eclipse; how individuals on their way
to work are stopped by the sudden darkness. She also explains her behavior
following the total eclipse; how she and her husband immediately left, not even
staying long enough to watch the sun fully emerge.
Although, I have
never experienced an eclipse I still found a strange amount of connection to
Dillard's writing in this instance. There are moments where I think about the
vastness of the universe and feel incredibly small. One feels entirely
insignificant when one thinks about the size of the world around them. I
remember once, at bible camp, we watched a seminar on the universe. The
preacher first held up a golf ball, and then a large projection of the sun was
lit up on the wall behind him. The point of the speech was to tell us kids how much
God had created and how much bigger he was then everything in the universe, but
that isn't what I got out of it. I mean, it was, but not the only thing. All it
made me feel was small, not inspired, and not trusting. It was terrifying, it
took me until I was home with my family to snap back to reality, much like it
took Annie until hearing the college student to come back to the real world.
Knowing that I meant something and was so important to my parents and siblings
brought me back, they made me feel big again. They made me feel significant in
a humongous world.
The biggest
question I must ask about this passage is in regards to the clown painting. I
am always curious as to why authors choose to include certain anecdotes in
their writing. In my opinion, I was unable to find the significance of the
clown in this particular essay. Why did Dillard include it? I would also like
to acknowledge the timeline of this essay. Why did the author jump back and
forth so often? What time of emotion was she trying to emote based on this? I
would also like to ask why she felt as though the vegetation was like metals. I
had a hard time picturing this, and therefore, question where this metaphor
came from.
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