In Gilead, dawn and dusk emerge as a motif that captures the coexistence of youth and old age. Dawn and the rising sun often represent the beginning of a life, whereas dusk and the setting sun represent the end of one. John Ames is at the end, or “dusk,” of his life; his son is at the beginning, or “dawn,” of his.
This motif occurs when John Ames and his father travel to visit his grandfather’s grave. As John’s father prays in front of the grave, John notices that the sun is setting as the moon is rising. In pages 9-17, Robinson writes:
Then I realized that what I saw was a full moon rising just as the sun was going down. Each of them was standing on its edge, with the most wonderful light between them. It seemed as if you could touch it, as if there were palpable currents of light passing back and forth, or as if there were great taut skeins of light suspended between them.
This passage describes the moment in which day is ending and night is beginning. This symbolically captures the scene, as John and his father are marking the death of John’s grandfather. But the scene doesn’t just include the setting of the sun—the moon is rising, too, evoking new beginnings. In the context of John’s letter, these overlapping cycles map onto John and his son. Further, in this passage, John focuses on the “wonderful light” connecting the setting sun and the rising moon. Rather than being separate entities, the setting sun and rising moon have “palpable currents of light passing back and forth.” John dwells on this connection, suggesting that he is invested in the tie between the ending of one thing and the beginning of another.
Later, in pages 69-71, John writes about dawn as he describes his habit of walking through the night:
I’ve often been sorry to see a night end, even while I have loved seeing the dawn come [...] If you remember me at all, you may find me explained a little by what I am telling you. If you could see me not as a child but as a grown man, it is surely true that you would observe a certain crepuscular quality in me.
An animal is crepuscular if it’s most active at dawn and dusk. Like the rising moon and setting sun in the graveyard, crepuscularity links John and his son. In the context of their entire lives, each is in a period of crepuscular activity—John dusk, his son dawn. John identifies his own crepuscular habits as something that would help his son understand him. This implies that transition states have special significance to John, making the project of the letter even weightier.
In Gilead, dawn and dusk emerge as a motif that captures the coexistence of youth and old age. Dawn and the rising sun often represent the beginning of a life, whereas dusk and the setting sun represent the end of one. John Ames is at the end, or “dusk,” of his life; his son is at the beginning, or “dawn,” of his.
This motif occurs when John Ames and his father travel to visit his grandfather’s grave. As John’s father prays in front of the grave, John notices that the sun is setting as the moon is rising. In pages 9-17, Robinson writes:
Then I realized that what I saw was a full moon rising just as the sun was going down. Each of them was standing on its edge, with the most wonderful light between them. It seemed as if you could touch it, as if there were palpable currents of light passing back and forth, or as if there were great taut skeins of light suspended between them.
This passage describes the moment in which day is ending and night is beginning. This symbolically captures the scene, as John and his father are marking the death of John’s grandfather. But the scene doesn’t just include the setting of the sun—the moon is rising, too, evoking new beginnings. In the context of John’s letter, these overlapping cycles map onto John and his son. Further, in this passage, John focuses on the “wonderful light” connecting the setting sun and the rising moon. Rather than being separate entities, the setting sun and rising moon have “palpable currents of light passing back and forth.” John dwells on this connection, suggesting that he is invested in the tie between the ending of one thing and the beginning of another.
Later, in pages 69-71, John writes about dawn as he describes his habit of walking through the night:
I’ve often been sorry to see a night end, even while I have loved seeing the dawn come [...] If you remember me at all, you may find me explained a little by what I am telling you. If you could see me not as a child but as a grown man, it is surely true that you would observe a certain crepuscular quality in me.
An animal is crepuscular if it’s most active at dawn and dusk. Like the rising moon and setting sun in the graveyard, crepuscularity links John and his son. In the context of their entire lives, each is in a period of crepuscular activity—John dusk, his son dawn. John identifies his own crepuscular habits as something that would help his son understand him. This implies that transition states have special significance to John, making the project of the letter even weightier.