Is honesty always the best policy? I must answer this question myself before I judge the questionable actions of Harmon Coulson. This licentious character dances with the limits of immorality within Elizabeth Strout's Pulitzer Prize winning novel Olive Kitteridge. Contrary to her own lasting marriage, the author narrates Coulson's struggle to stay loyal to his wife Bonnie. Published in 2008, a time in which divorce rates approached 5%, Harmon's affair with Daisy Foster pushes him closer to becoming part of that statistic. Many years of marriage and three sons later, Strout reveals "Bonnie made [Harmon] feel cold" (98). Coulson's direct characterization as "cold" juxtaposes his generally kind and compassionate demeanor. Bonnie's ability to negatively transform his personality so dramatically mitigates my disapproval towards her husband's affair with Foster. Likewise, Bonnie's indirect characterization as harsh only intensifies my empathy for her husband's display of affection for another woman. This affection eventually blossoms into something more, as Harmon confesses to Daisy, "I've fallen in love with you" (102). At first, I distinguished Harmon and Daisy's affair as nothing more than that, but the married man's deep feelings suggest otherwise. The pathos evoked by his adoration sparks sympathy from those, myself included, who originally viewed the relationship between the two lovers as promiscuous and dishonest. Nonetheless, the passion exchanged between Foster and Coulson only suggests true love, which crushes a small amount of contempt for their sneaky Sunday shenanigans. In addition to the unpredictable path of his emotion's, Harmon's adultery stems from his fear of "being without love:" the unfortunate consequence of his current marriage (94). I do not applaud Coulson's infidelity, but the absence of love within his marriage presents a dangerous yet understanding mid-life crisis. Harmon serves as a synecdoche for those who must choose between practicality and emotion: a decision with consequences on both sides. Trapped by the vows to stay together "through sickness and through health," Coulson chooses unfaithfulness to avoid the wrath of his wife. I do not tolerate this dishonesty, and I pity Bonnie's ignorance towards her husband's behavior. However, what Harmon feels for both his wife and Daisy represents no "right" or "wrong" judgement, but rather the dilemma of a severely confused man. Also a sufferer from this strained marriage, Bonnie's complaint that her husband's negativity "[is] driving me nuts" underscores Strout's claim that couple endure's constant tension (91). The situational irony created by Bonnie's own constant pessimism indirectly characterizes her as hypocritical, further illustrating her as a pain to live with. I do not laud deceit, but Harmon's love for "the other woman" does not surprise me. Although his bold and secretive actions confuse me due to his kindness, they offer the only solution to a fulfilling life. Harmon's breaking of his marital vows? Wrong. His desire to live a life with love? Understanding. Maybe even right.
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ReplyDeleteI disagree with your statement of Harmon's confusion. I believe he knows that going to see Daisy creates feelings of passionate love. Although I do understand his desire to live a life filled with love, he should stop going to see Daisy if he knows it will lead to adultery. He married "for better or for worse." Bonnie's change of personality as she grows older and his irritation with her falls into the category of "worse." Regardless of the circumstances, I believe that without complete honesty and loyalty to his wife he breaks his vows and shines a negative light on his otherwise charismatic character.
ReplyDeleteI, too, felt torn over Harmon's choices and I found myself questioning if he truly loved Daisy or if he just loved the companionship she provided. When the duo just associated as "buddies," Harmon still expressed his love of Bonnie, but, as they became true friends, his emotions began to shift. However, I found it interesting that this seemed to coordinate with his acceptance of losing his sons, perhaps Daisy only filled the void of his distant boys.
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