Most people would automatically assume that seeing is one of the most important abilities that a human can possess—blind people are really missing out! However, after reading Annie Dillard’s short story “Seeing,” it becomes apparent that there is much more to “Seeing” than meets the eye. Dillard’s story forces the reader to look carefully through separate lenses in order to realize that seeing nature can be both horrible and beautiful.
In the beginning of “Seeing” the narrator begins to evaluate the different things that can be seen in nature, pointing out that nature fails to provide consistent visions—it’s “a now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t affair” and vice versa (Dillard). The story contains abundant visual descriptions of certain objects form a penny to blackbirds flying out of a tree. It also explores nearly every aspect of “seeing,” such as looking for things that have never been seen before or what can be seen without even opening the eyes through imagination: “I close my eyes and I see stars, deep stars giving way to deeper stars, deeper stars bowing to deepest stars at the crown of an infinite cone” (Dillard).
Dillard’s story first gives the impression that “seeing” is a beautiful thing. It provides spectacular imagery of nature in action; it also points out such principles that “Seeing” is reading, drawing, looking, imagining, feeling and wondering. However, as we read more about “seeing,” it becomes clear that not everything we see is pleasant—“if we are blinded by darkness, we are also blinded by light. When too much light falls on everything, a special terror results” (Dillard). A great example of this belief is a mirage which is an optical illusion that appears to be a lake of water in the blistering hot desert when the light is distorted. “Seeing” draws a light on the fact that “we have really only that one light, one source for all power, and yet we must turn away from it by universal decree…we all walk about carefully averting our faces, this way and that, lest our eyes be blasted forever” (Dillard). Seeing in the dark can also be just as petrifying—sometimes the dark allows us to see (imagine) things that are not really there. Darkness creates scary imagery because we are afraid of what we cannot see.
As Dillard’s story transitions into the darker side of “seeing,” it begins to philosophically examine the unfortunate status of people who can now see after being born blind. After dozens of people who were blind underwent cataract surgeries, enabling them to see for the first time in their lives, most of them experienced devastating effects because they had “no idea of space whatsoever” (Dillard). As Dillard explores “seeing” from a former blind person’s point of view, it becomes obvious that blind people are accustomed to feeling in order to see—without being able to touch the items, they had “no real conception of height or distance. A house that is a mile away is thought of as nearby, but requiring the taking of a lot of steps…The elevator that whizzes him up and down gives no more sense of vertical distance than does the train of horizontal” (Dillard).
Unfortunately, the formally blind suffer tremendously because “it oppresses them to realize, if they ever do at all, the tremendous size of the world, which they had previously conceived of as something touchingly manageable” (Dillard). However, “Seeing” also points out that “many newly sighted people speak well of the world, and teach us how dull is our own vision” (Dillard).
Annie Dillard’s “Seeing” is a philosophical and poetic exploration of sight. It effectively examines nearly every aspect of “seeing,” from binoculars to illusions. Clearly, Dillard has pointed out that “what you see is what you get” (Dillard). Every person sees and responds to things differently. After Dillard paints many beautiful visual images of nature in “Seeing,” she then explores the darker aspects of sight. Dillard’s story forces the reader to look carefully through separate lenses in order to realize that “seeing” nature can be both horrible and beautiful.
Works Cited
Dillard, Annie. “Seeing.” Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. New York: Harper Perennial, 1974.
In the beginning of “Seeing” the narrator begins to evaluate the different things that can be seen in nature, pointing out that nature fails to provide consistent visions—it’s “a now-you-see-it, now-you-don’t affair” and vice versa (Dillard). The story contains abundant visual descriptions of certain objects form a penny to blackbirds flying out of a tree. It also explores nearly every aspect of “seeing,” such as looking for things that have never been seen before or what can be seen without even opening the eyes through imagination: “I close my eyes and I see stars, deep stars giving way to deeper stars, deeper stars bowing to deepest stars at the crown of an infinite cone” (Dillard).
Dillard’s story first gives the impression that “seeing” is a beautiful thing. It provides spectacular imagery of nature in action; it also points out such principles that “Seeing” is reading, drawing, looking, imagining, feeling and wondering. However, as we read more about “seeing,” it becomes clear that not everything we see is pleasant—“if we are blinded by darkness, we are also blinded by light. When too much light falls on everything, a special terror results” (Dillard). A great example of this belief is a mirage which is an optical illusion that appears to be a lake of water in the blistering hot desert when the light is distorted. “Seeing” draws a light on the fact that “we have really only that one light, one source for all power, and yet we must turn away from it by universal decree…we all walk about carefully averting our faces, this way and that, lest our eyes be blasted forever” (Dillard). Seeing in the dark can also be just as petrifying—sometimes the dark allows us to see (imagine) things that are not really there. Darkness creates scary imagery because we are afraid of what we cannot see.
As Dillard’s story transitions into the darker side of “seeing,” it begins to philosophically examine the unfortunate status of people who can now see after being born blind. After dozens of people who were blind underwent cataract surgeries, enabling them to see for the first time in their lives, most of them experienced devastating effects because they had “no idea of space whatsoever” (Dillard). As Dillard explores “seeing” from a former blind person’s point of view, it becomes obvious that blind people are accustomed to feeling in order to see—without being able to touch the items, they had “no real conception of height or distance. A house that is a mile away is thought of as nearby, but requiring the taking of a lot of steps…The elevator that whizzes him up and down gives no more sense of vertical distance than does the train of horizontal” (Dillard).
Unfortunately, the formally blind suffer tremendously because “it oppresses them to realize, if they ever do at all, the tremendous size of the world, which they had previously conceived of as something touchingly manageable” (Dillard). However, “Seeing” also points out that “many newly sighted people speak well of the world, and teach us how dull is our own vision” (Dillard).
Annie Dillard’s “Seeing” is a philosophical and poetic exploration of sight. It effectively examines nearly every aspect of “seeing,” from binoculars to illusions. Clearly, Dillard has pointed out that “what you see is what you get” (Dillard). Every person sees and responds to things differently. After Dillard paints many beautiful visual images of nature in “Seeing,” she then explores the darker aspects of sight. Dillard’s story forces the reader to look carefully through separate lenses in order to realize that “seeing” nature can be both horrible and beautiful.
Works Cited
Dillard, Annie. “Seeing.” Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. New York: Harper Perennial, 1974.