Thoughts on "An Education"

He studied Latin like the violin, because he liked it. – Robert Frost, “The Death of the Hired Man”

My thoughts this summer have been on education. I have reached a milestone in mine, and my sister and her friends have reached one in theirs. And being lovers of learning, neither my sister nor I are very likely at the end. In fact, we are probably only at the commencement.

In addition to our commencements, I was recently struck by one portrayed in last year’s film, An Education. I could say something of this film’s beautiful aesthetic or its swank soundtrack. I could speak of Carey Mulligan’s magnificent performance and of her similarity to Audrey Hepburn, but this has been done by more qualified critics. What I wish to consider is the film’s questions of education.

Jenny, played by Carey Mulligan, is a 16-year-old Oxford-bound schoolgirl. Though she is set on Oxford and doing what it takes to get there, it seems that she secretly enjoys playing her cello and translating Latin. She stands out in the classroom with her enthusiasm and intelligence, and discusses Camus with her friends in their free-time. She wishes she could go to classical concerts, and she dreams of going to Paris. And while Jenny seems to legitimately love what she does, her father, Jack, encourages her endeavors for purely pragmatic reasons. She should, in his view, do everything for the sake of getting into Oxford, which will in turn promise financial security.

Enter David, a 35-year-old with deep pockets. He takes her to classical concerts, art auctions, and eventually to Paris. She is mesmerized by his sophistication and eloquence. The progress of the seduction is smooth and seemingly innocuous, such that she willingly gives herself to him. More surprisingly, her well-intentioned but dimwitted parents do not see through his chicanery and offer only minimal resistance as their daughter throws aside her Oxford dreams and gives herself to an older man.

Indeed, her father heroically stays true to his principles, admitting that David is a more than adequate substitute for Oxford, since he promises “connections” and safety. In a rather humorous moment, he avers that it is better to know great authors than actually be one. It is being well-connected that matters. And in a more sober moment, he confesses, “All my life, I’ve been scared, and I didn’t want you to be scared.” Jack, it seems, expresses a real human concern, and despite his naivety, compels us to sympathize with him.

Most surprisingly, her headmistress offers little more guidance. Though she condemns Jenny’s behavior and tells her that she must get a degree to do “anything worth doing,” her defense stays practical, and she admits that studying and teaching are “hard and boring.” To which Jenny responds, “So my choice is to do something hard and boring, or to marry my…my Jew, and go to Paris and Rome and listen to jazz and read and eat good food in nice restaurants and have fun. It’s not enough to educate us any more, Mrs. Walters. You’ve got to tell us why you’re doing it.” The headmistress feebly (and comically) replies that there is also the civil service, but this misses the point. She can give no apology for what she does.

Miss Stubbs, Jenny’s favorite professor, who has chosen a life of teaching, is the only character who comes close to conveying “the point of it all.” She tries to explain that university is also a path to “beautiful things, books and music and conversation.” And she tries to explain that exemplary students, like Jenny, make reading essays about ponies worth it. But, Jenny isn’t convinced. The unmarried Miss Stubbs must do things that are hard and boring, and she probably can’t afford many orchestral concerts or trips to Paris.

On one level, this film is an education in the fact that life is oftentimes hard and boring and is never simply fun. As a banner over my high school’s entrance read, “There are no shortcuts.” David’s way of life turns out to be too good to be true. This is a fairly simple lesson and one that is overtly taught by the film. But I think this film asks and largely leaves unanswered a deeper question of education. Jenny’s father and headmistress see education as inexorably practical. It is a way to achieve material freedom and security. Indeed, it promises to free us from being afraid.

Miss Stubbs and Jenny before she is seduced seem to know that there is something more to education. Though they cannot articulate it, their apparent love of learning betrays an understanding that knowledge is intrinsically good and that truth should be pursued for its own sake. The Jenny of the film’s beginning knows that cello and Latin, while hard, are also fun. Miss Stubbs, who does not eat good food in nice restaurants, still insists that education is a path to beautiful things. And indeed, it is somewhere said that education provides us with experience in things beautiful.

Not many of us will be seduced by 35-year-old men, but I dare say that all of us students question the meaning of it all. And I would even venture to say that some of us feel the allure of Paris and Rome, listening to jazz and eating good food in nice restaurants. While reading books does not provide us with the means to experience such things, they do ironically give us a taste for them. And so, even those that are drawn to the life of the mind are pulled in different directions. Though nothing in this life can escape being hard and boring, we are still faced with difficult choices. And though wealth can provide us with experience in things beautiful, we must recognize that it has the power to seduce us away from our love of learning and our pursuit of truth, goodness, and beauty.