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R.B. The Importance of Being Earnest What is Truth? This is the question that has been plaguing philosophers, scientists, and artists since the beginning of human history. It is a question that, even after all of these years of thought and of searching, has not yet been answered to everybody’s satisfaction. Whether the truth is something that, as the Enlightenment period authors contend, is something that can be found by stripping reality through reason and methodical empirical thought, or whether it is something that the Romantics would feel in their bones rather than deduce with their minds, one thing is certain: “The truth is rarely pure and never simple” (6). By the time Wilde and his contemporaries were writing, the search for truth was more complicated than ever. Rather than posit the existence of an absolute Truth-with-a-capital-T, the authors of the Modern period (to whom Wilde and his contemporaries were forming a bridge) simply brushed the dust of the Age of Enlightenment and Romanticism off their shoulders and succumbed to the possibility that truth is anything but absolute, and is instead constructed—by ourselves, by our societies. These sentiments, which became hallmarks of Modern thought, can be seen in Wilde’s seminal work of drama, The Importance of Being Earnest. In this play, Wilde uses the power of language as a tool for shaping reality to hint to us the answer to the age-old question “What is Truth?” The power of words in The Importance of Being Earnest is used to invent, to obscure, and to elucidate the truth all at once. This is particularly evident in one of first scenes of the play between Jack and Algernon, in which we are first introduced to the non-existent Bunbury. Bunbury is a testament to the power of language to invent the truth. We are first introduced to Bunbury after Jack (known at this point to the audience and to Algernon as “Ernest”) attempts to explain why his cigarette case is addressed to an “Uncle Jack” from a “Dear Cecily.” After it is revealed that Jack’s actual name is Jack and not Ernest, Algernon accuses him of “being a confirmed and secret Bunburyist” (5), and later explains that he has “invented an invaluable permanent invalid called Bunbury…to go to down into the country whenever [he chooses]” (6). Algernon summons from nothingness this Bunbury character; he goes even further and constructs an intricate back-story for his invention. Algernon therefore uses language to construct an alternate reality, which is perceived as truth to those to whom Algernon elects not to reveal the actual truth. This perception of truth—whether physically or emotionally observed—is subject to the limitation of one’s senses and intuition, and thus must be accepted as truth in the mind of the observer. Thus, language is not merely a medium for communication, but also for creation. In this function, language can be used to invent with the intent to deceive or otherwise obscure reality. Indeed, Bunbury is essentially a device created by Algernon to evade obligations he may have in order to do something he would rather do: “Bunbury is perfectly invaluable. If it wasn’t for Bunbury’s extraordinary bad health, for instance, I wouldn’t be able to dine with you [Jack] at Willis’s tonight, for I have been really engaged to Aunt Augusta for more than a week” (6). Algernon uses Bunbury as a fictional scapegoat to dine with Jack instead of meeting with Aunt Augusta. Bunbury is brought forth into existence with the intent to create an alternate reality in which he cannot meet with his Aunt Augusta under the guise of meeting a sick friend. The truth of the situation is occluded by his invocation of Bunbury; Aunt Augusta has no choice but to accept this as the truth for she has no way of knowing (and will never know) that Bunbury is a figment of Algernon’s imagination, created solely to deceive. Coupled with Jack’s own deception earlier in the scene, in which he calls himself Ernest, the power of language can be seen as an inventive force with the ability to bend the very fabric of reality so as to conceal the truth. Therefore, Bunbury can be seen as the personification of the illusory power of language. Wilde brilliantly depicts the parallel layers of linguistic deception that surround the truth in an impenetrable haze. Through his use of the Bunbury invention, he accurately portrays the layers of word-fog that everybody sends up each and every day that envelops a truth that we can never each individually come to know. Of course, the power of language is not limited to deception; the converse is also true. Language has the power to shine a ray of light on the nebulous clouds of lies the swirl above the Land of Truth and pierce through to the core. However, with all of the illusions that surround what would be an absolute truth if we were able to find it, language is only powerful enough to shine light for others on little bits and pieces of the truth in the context of our own personal lives. In this sense, the truth is out there, but is so well-shrouded in the lies we invent every day—so ‘Bunburied’ under layers of imposturous elocution and fallacious phrases—that it might as well not exist at all. Reality is what we construct it to be, and thus, Wilde said it best in The Importance of Being Earnest when he made Algernon utter these now-famous words: “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” Ironically, perhaps it is that very thing—those wise, truthful words—that is the only pure and simple truth we can come to know for sure. |