…comes the adorable reply of a little girl promoting the fabulousness of a combination of hard and soft-shell tacos in one box. It's funny, as I was fast-forwarding through the commercials to get to the real heart of the matter (an episode of Conan where he tries and helplessly fails at playing Tomb Raider, so he compensates by killing her as many ways as humanly possible), I stopped to look back at this long-forgotten product. As two older siblings fight tooth-and-nail to get what they really want for dinner (hard or soft shell tacos…an argument that my household has had the fortune never to go through), the smaller of the family of three, an adorable little girl, asks in Spanish, "Why not have both?" And while the party music plays in the background with the family celebrating in joy ("Feed your Fiesta!") my mind instantly shifts to Newland Archer. No, not because of some taco-induced tragedy that he goes through in the second half of the book. Fair warning-I'm about to go on a rant that may or may not reveal the ending. So for those who haven't finished the book, you've been warned.
In truth, having the best of both worlds isn't always possible--with the exception of tacos, of course. As Newland Archer lives between two women, May Welland and Ellen Olenska, he figuratively digs himself a big and deep hole by wanting both women throughout pretty much the majority of the novel. What annoys me the most is his lack of future planning, of his brainless actions in wooing Ellen Olenska while wearing May Welland's ring. What did he expect out of this affair? What good comes out of being with Ellen as a married Welland man? In many scenes of the book his thoughts are just plain silly. There are notions of Newland wanting to run away from May and elope with Ellen, of sailing off to sea and never coming back…even of killing May so that his hook-up with Ellen will finally be seen as acceptable. His thought-process here is awful. Commit a crime--murder, per se-- to save face.
But let's look deeper here, to see why he wants two women in the first place. There's the obvious; they're both foils of each other. Each carries a characteristic, trait, or personality that the other is absent of. May is a reserved, optimistic, rich, yet delightfully dull human being. She has all the requirements fulfilled to be the ultimate housewife, but she has the experience of a 3 year-old girl. Newland describes May almost as a slave to her own social class, claiming that "[t]here was no use in trying to emancipate a wife who had not the dimmest notion that she was not free" (160). Brought up by her mother, she exhibits her mother's ways of living as a stable house puppet of a wife for Newland. And her analytic, creative abilities? Forget it. She may be a straight shot with a bow an arrow at the Beaufort's annual Archery competition, but she'd also be the one who gave up against a bear attack, even with a bow and arrow strapped to her back. Thoughtless. She isn't driven intrinsically, by a desire to prove her worth; rather, she is a pawn of the social hierarchy, an outlet to produce and maintain the Welland family line.
The other Welland--a classic attitude that many of the Wellands and Mingotts take on Ellen--is otherworldly and fantastic. Raised in New York, but inhabitant of Europe, she embodies the all-knowing qualities any travelled man should have. In terms of housewifery, she's a lost cause. She is an outspoken, down-to-earth woman who cuts through the superficial haze that the upper class created for itself. This is apparent in her criticism of New York. "It seems stupid to have discovered America only to make it into a copy of another country," (196), Ellen says, implying how conceited and unoriginal the American society really is, in contrast to what it claims to be. Her subtle yet hard-hitting jabs at the New York way of life irks the inhabitants of the city, and her family is no exception. She's lived through it all, and like the wise words of Tardar Sauce the grumpy cat, "I am not amused."
And being the greedy, expectant man Newland is, he wants both. He craves some type of stability and comfort, of an innate need to fulfill even his own mother's wishes of going with the high society flow in marrying May (and he does). He loves the idea of 'teaching' May all the things he knows, to shape her and play with her like a doll whenever he feels the need. But this idea of her being a hollow case with nothing on the inside to show for it is what makes him turn to the other woman--Ellen. He consequently also wants an equal, a woman who shares his interests in traveling, exploring, and admiring the arts. Ellen would be a perfect fit here, regardless of her sex. Newland doesn't care for other people's family business or clothes (like Jackson or Lefferts), and for this reason we see that he doesn't have many friends to begin with. So when someone like Ellen walks in, a beautiful damsel in distress and an intelligent human being, it's not surprising that he feels an instant attraction towards her. So which woman is the perfect one for him? I can't be sure. Newland is too complex of a character to really love May regardless of her faults, but he is also too rigid in stature to really love Ellen, including her gutsy attitude. And with that note, I believe that neither woman was a good fit for Newland. The fact that he kept jumping between the two women means (to me, at least) that neither had all the qualities he desired in a partner, so he couldn't have been happy with either one. Sadly, he's too blind from puppy-love with May and admiration with Ellen to really open his eyes. His saving grace is found in his children, specifically his first-born, Dallas. If he can't fulfill true happiness, at least teach to his offspring who can, right?
When the little girl in the TV asks, "¿Por qué no los dos?" I shrug and say that sometimes having two good things isn't always the best idea. Newland tried to have both, and look what happened to him. He nearly drove Ellen out of the country (and she later does, but on her own will--a loss for Newland). His life with May isn't exactly depressing, but he never expresses gratitude and happiness for his wife besides a reserved and self-taught affection. Has he fulfilled his purpose in life? Does he have regrets? I'll leave that for Newland to decide when he sits on the bench and stares out at Ellen's Parisian balcony, years and years later. As for me, I will continue fast-forwarding until I see Conan flail his controller around.
Taco Commercial: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqgSO8_cRio
Conan 'playing' Tomb Raider (a bit inappropriate, but it is Conan after all): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCe8-1dbXZc
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