Howl’s Moving Castle
I haven’t been able to define a sense of home for myself yet. Even in my own story, I didn’t intend to point to one location as a home (though perhaps Vancouver seemed the likely candidate). However, while reading through the other blogs, I’ve noticed a recurring theme of comfort and change that have helped me think further about my own ideas of home.
In her discussion of home, Rabia talks about her brother and the comfort she feels in her relationship with him. She says,
“I think our relationship shows the ultimate form of comfort. The quarrels are a way we express our love for each other and get each others attention. It may be unconventional, but it defines my comfort. The time capsule we find ourselves in every time we reunite connects me to home…”
For Rabia, home is where family is and they are what ties her to her sense of home, rather than a physical space.
“Keeping this in mind, my experiences with my brother (both positive and negative) connect me to my home- and I don’t think a physical space would have mattered in making this connection, it could have been anywhere.”
For Jenny, the comfort she found in home included the physical construction of her house, and so when her family moved, her sense of home was also set adrift. Her uncertain relationship with home became worse when awful tenants moved into the lower suite of their new house, effectively violating what was supposed to become her new home. She is currently “in the process of regaining the trust that was broken: the belief that [her] house is a place where [she] can be in.”
Jenny’s use of the word “trust” is interesting in that it effectively places her in a relationship with “home.” It follows then that there is an implicit understanding that home should be a place of not just comfort, but safety. But being in a relationship also means there is opportunity for change, sometimes for the worse. As she says, “What is familiar, comfortable, and feels right evolves, matures, and becomes broken over time.” What doesn’t change is the experiences of home she has had, those that stay the same in her photos, and that is what she holds on to.
Caitlyn understands the shifting nature of home and explores the idea of home as tied to neither people nor place, but to our own minds. She says,
“I guess this story speaks to something innate within us that knows what home is even if we cannot articulate it. Home travels with us and it stays behind, it changes, it comes and goes. It is both tangible and transcendent, tiny and infinite. Home is a simple longing.”
(I think Fidelia captures a sense of longing in her own story when she yearns for somewhere where she could belong.)
Intrigued, I pause at Caityn’s statement, that home is a longing. Whether in Korea/LA with my family, or in Vancouver, with my friends, and the memories the city holds, I’m always longing for the other. I suppose I find myself constantly torn between two places, and once I find comfort in my relation to one place, I am ripped away to the other where I have to rebuild comfort and trust in it. I don’t know yet if this is simply having a turbulent sense of home or being outright “homeless,” but so it goes.
References:
Harrison, Caitlyn. “Lesson 2:1 Whisper of Home.” Intersections & Departures. UBC Blogs, 11 June 2014. Web. 16 June 2014.
Ho, Jenny. “Lesson 2.1 – Home?” Jenny Ho. UBC Blogs, 10 June 2014. Web. 16 June 2014.
Khan, Rabia. “Assignment 2:1.” Rabias English 470A Blog. UBC Blogs, 12 June 2014. Web. 16 June 2014.
Lam, Fidelia. “2.1.2 Bridging the Gap.” 470 A Summer Delve into Canadian Literature. UBC Blogs, 11 June 2014. Web. 16 June 2014.
Smith, Luke. A copy of a painting done in Howl’s Moving Castle. Digital image. Lukey Arts. Blogspot, 12 Mar. 2011. Web. 16 July 2014.
Thank you Rachel; as I read through all our stories of home, I think you have captured an interesting theme worth reflecting upon: home is both defined by “comfort and change.” As I read through our stories, I am always looking for metaphors that might point to what people value most about home, and as you note, there is a sense of “longing” expressed in many of our stories. I begin to wonder how these metaphors like “time capsule” reflect a value? What is valuable about a timeless, place less ‘home” — that one yearns for. What is this story saying?
Hi Erika,
Sorry I’ve only just seen your comment!
I see a bit of the “time capsule” metaphor in Jenny’s entry as well, when she talks about her feelings and experiences of home remaining static in the photographs she has. I think the value of a “time capsule” home is its static quality (though this might seem ironic considering the fact that home has been acknowledged to change). That no matter, where we are, this sense of “home” never changes. For Rabia, its her relationship with her brother. For Jenny, its her photos of her previous house.
I think our longing for such a home comes back to comfort. Since home can become so turbulent and ever-changing, it’s comforting to know that, no matter what, there’s always a safe, familiar place to come back to. As I’ve mentioned, personally, I’m always yearning in two different directions — my longing has no real destination. I guess the value of a “time capsule” home is it becomes an anchor to keep us from being adrift in change.
Of course, it’s 4AM and I may not be thinking straight. Does this seem to be going anywhere?