William Cronon Summary – “Only Connect…” | zwaska84
Only connect howards end essay - …
What does it mean to be a liberally educated person? It seems such a simple question,especially given the frequency with which colleges and universities genuflect toward thiswell-worn phrase as the central icon of their institutional missions. Mantra-like, the words areendlessly repeated, starting in the glossy admissions brochures that high school students receiveby the hundreds in their mailboxes and continuing right down to the last tired invocations theyhear on commencement day.
Howards End is second only to A Passage to India in illustrating ..
The quintessence of the main theme of this lovely novel is: "Only connect!…Only connect the prose and passion…and human love will be seen at its height.
Forster's injunction from Howards End: "Only connect." ..
It’s difficult not to feel that Howards End represents a kind of filmmaking that now seems too often missing—nuanced, well-written, and filled with complex roles, particularly for women. The film serves the essence of Forster by taking as its core the 1910 novel’s famous epigraph,"Only connect." Forster is one of the greatest writers of women; especially for his time he can be viewed as an extraordinary proto-feminist. He understood the trap that women were in—the difficulties they faced with having few choices, the external dynamics that could ensue from those choices, the social and economic risks of independence. Thompson’s Margaret is one of her greatest performances: she makes us feel how such a kind, intelligent, strong woman could feel almost like an outsider in the defining events of her life. Redgrave is luminous as Mrs. Wilcox and, with Hopkins, leads a cast which is—as is so often true of a Merchant-Ivory project—an exceptional and memorable ensemble.
E M Forster’s “Howards End” – an exhortation to *Connect* ..
Howards End has one of the most unforgettable openings in film history. Through a soft summer twilight a woman walks slowly, familiarly through an outer garden of bluebells. She is a beautiful woman of a certain age and palpable dignity. We can feel the freshening air stir against her skin, and we know that she belongs in the landscape, that she cherishes it. Soon she nears the open windows of a comfortably rambling country house and we know that it is hers, that the people we see through the casements in the lighted interiors are her family. She pauses, and looks in, ready to go in and join them, yet not quite. This moment in which a graceful, gentle woman is poised between oneness with the still solitude of the natural spirit of her place and the business of daily life and bustling demands of family not only evokes the locale that will be the heart of the film, but the woman’s character as well. It also perfectly evinces the tone and central theme of one of the 20th Century’s greatest novels. We know the woman must soon go in and that a part of her is ready to do so—but that a part of her lingers, content to be outside, looking in.