The Idiot and the Birthmark
... even her husband, demonstrating that it is very rare for someone to be more critical of us than we are of ourselves. With newfound self-hatred, Georgiana musters up the courage to say, “Either remove this dreadful Hand, or take my wretched life!” as so many have said in one form or another before going under the knife of a plastic surgeon (The Norton Anthology of American Literature, 638). And it’s all because her husband had to open his mouth. Nice goin’, Aylmer! This story also reminded me that we can only be disappointed by that which we idolize. If only King David had not met Bathsheba! If only Achilles’ heel had not been wounded! If only Michael Jackson had not grown up and turned white! I have observed that a beautiful woman is the ideal example of an idol that will inevitably fail; when a man sees her, he immediately assumes, at least at a subconscious level, that she is flawless. (In fact, studies have shown that we do actually assume, from first glance, that attractive people are intelligent while we assume that homely people are stupid.) Aylmer has two idols: his love for science, and his wife—the only problem is that one of these idols is only human, scarred with a palpable imperfection. Aylmer’s preoccupation with the birthmark demonstrates another truth of humanity: once one attains his heart’s desires, his heart will simply grow to desire more, perhaps as a natural means of escaping boredom. How else can we explain why Bill Gates has not retired? Aylmer attained almost perfect beauty, but almost was not good enough. This illustrates why divorce rates are so high: people marry those who they idolize and do not love unconditionally, and I have observed that anything short of unconditional love will fade, find a new idol, and wander aimlessly with an unquenchable thirst for “better” things. Hence states the proverb, “What a man desires is unfailing love.” Aylmer’s problem with talking to the ladies is not his only flaw; he is also far too shallow. To me, “The Birth-Mark” serves as a wonderful illustration of the way all of mankind seems to share a common, innate striving for some perfection beyond this world, as demonstrated by everyone who is not an atheist or an agnostic. Aylmer, appearing to be an atheist, still strives for this perfection, but while the religious search for it in the heavens and often in a life to come, Aylmer toils to find it in this world. His journals reveal this in that they recount how “His brightest diamonds were the merest pebbles, and felt to be so by himself, in comparison with the inestimable gems that lay out of his reach” (The Norton Anthology of American Literature, 643). His two idols, science and Georgiana, are the means by which he seeks to attain the “inestimable ...