Are we all broken vases?
on kintsugi, recent reads, beauty in the broken and birthday blues
I’ve been busy the past month; I started a new job and have been taking care of things I should have been taking care of previously. My left arm still has a massive bruise from the blood test I did recently and I’ve been reading Kafka’s metamorphosis (and other essays). Before Kafka, I read Cleopatra & Frankenstein by Coco Mellors, a novel in which at times I saw myself and friends in some of the characters, and not always in a favourable light.
Near the end of the book, one of the characters, Eleanor is talking to her brother after breaking a vase of his. As he painstakingly picks up all the pieces and starts to glue them together, she tells him she didn’t realise he liked that vase so much. The rest of the conversation goes something like this:
“I don’t, I’m doing kintsugi”
“kintsugi?”
“the Japanese art of putting something broken back together and it being more beautiful because of it”
“I wish people were like that”
“they are, you are”
“are you saying I’m like that vase”
“yes, you are like that vase”
If people are like broken, but repaired vases, to what extent can we carry that metaphor? Kintsugi is usually done with gold paint, so if people have been incredibly shattered and built themselves back up, does that mean they are close to being solid gold? When it comes to vases, we usually gravitate towards the nice ones, but do we do the same thing with people, I don’t think so. I think with people, we tend to move towards people who have cracked in a way similar to ours; who can understand and be emphatic. I think when it comes to people, the ones that haven’t cracked are the ones we would find boring. Trauma does build character, but I think most of all it just has to do with life experience and outlook. For many, the people who haven’t struggled at all are the least relatable.
Most of all, kintsugi emphasises that challenges and obstacles are opportunities for growth and for change and for development. In her last album, Lana Del Rey sang about the concept of kintsugi, specifically about the death of her relatives. In the first verse she says
I don’t trust myself with my heart
But I’ve had to let it break a little more
’Cause they say that’s what it’s for
That’s how the light shines in
She sings about running away from her thoughts and feelings about her deceased loved ones, but that those feelings and thoughts are what allows for light to be there. There is no healing without facing what has happened; you have to let the indent crack, fracture and break for the light and the opportunity for growth to be let in. And then those pieces can be fixed together with gold.
Our experiences truly shape us, maybe we’re all just broken vases, but in the year of 2024 I don’t think there is anyone who is a vase unbroken. Society isn’t built for that; every vase needs to be broken so the least broken ones can be the most desirable, and the ones more gold than ceramic do their best to blend in. People want things new and shiny and sparkly, it’s why people are so utterly obsessed with youth.
In Kafka’s metamorphosis part of the story consists of the family trying to live and accept their son’s transformation into a beetle-like insect. However, the more Gregor gives into his new life as a bug, the more of a problem it becomes for his family and ultimately they are better off without him. Before his transformation, he was the breadwinner, taking care of his family and then suddenly that all changed. The story plays with self-perception and the idea of identity; Gregor, despite now being and insect, still sees himself as Gregor, but just as a bug. His identity did not change that much, but his self-perception did. Whereas to his family, his identity changed and they tried to let their perception of him as their family member stay the same, but ultimately couldn’t.
In the case of Kafka’s metamorphosis, the broken vase was thrown out to be shattered even more. Truly the literary equivalent of “would you still love me if I were a worm”, it does lead to a bigger question of how much relationships can change when people do.
If we’re all vases, we might not look good together on the same table. Beauty is as always subjective and some broken vases will look better to one person than others. Some will always prefer the new shiny vase over the one that survived a mighty fall to the ground.
In fashion, the most loved pieces are always the ones most worn and torn and mended. The broken vase might do more good in the long run than the one you have to be delicate with.
As my birthday is this week and my pre-frontal cortex will officially be fully developed, I wonder how many gold cracks I would have as a vase. And how many of those cracks look exactly the same as the people that came before me?
I’ve never been particularly fond of my own birthday. I like other people’s birthdays, but mine not so much. I always get sad and think about the past and the future; plagued by what if’s and what’s next’s. I’m not where child me envisioned I would be, but teenage me didn’t envision an adult life at all, so really if you think about it, I’m doing pretty okay.
This year, I’m going to attempt to enjoy my birthday, an act of putting gold onto my imaginary vase. I’m going to the ballet and I will be buying myself a slice of cake (or two). I will probably still be sad, as that is par of the course, but after almost 25 years on this planet, I don’t think there is a greater gift to oneself than compassion.