Reflections on Don Quixote and Michael Scott
By Meher Sethi
A knight in shining armor, or a stumbling oaf?
Don Quixote, a pillar of Western literature by Miguel de Cervantes, mocks the romantic ideals of chivalric novels. We follow an aspiring knight-errant, Don Quixote, deluded into a fictional world of ferocious giants (actually, windmills), evil enchanters, and an unfathomably perfect love-interest… whom he never meets. The comedic conclusions of these episodes often depict the Don making an utter fool of himself. The character expresses sincere intent, yet causes harm in consequence. Cervantes seems to illustrate the perils of viewing ordinary life through the lens of romantic stories. Are we subject to the same danger in 2022? It would be absurd to think anyone would drop everything today and set out on a medieval-esque expedition of concocted adventure.
Nonetheless, I would argue that we, too, romanticize our lives as a result of contemporary media — for better or for worse.
No major work of film assumes a subject more diametrically opposed to the fantastical world of Don Quixote than the hit series, The Office (we’ll look specifically at the US version because, frankly, it’s the best). The show portrays dull shots of disgruntled employees, familiar sounds in ringing phones and clicking keyboards, and the real, imperfect, and even grim life of a contemporary office. Today’s media wants to humanize on-screen characters, showing the less-than-ideal parts of life also omitted from the tradition of chivalric novels. Nonetheless, we fall in love with these characters! Few on-screen relationships have achieved the legendary status of Jim and Pam. Each episode comes to a satisfying conclusion, characters develop through mature and redemptive arcs, and authenticity is accompanied by the charm of any other TV show. It’s relatable… and yet it’s not.
Our lives aren’t perfectly situated within preconceived narratives and storyboards. They don’t follow structured plots. There’s something intrinsic about literary form that distances characters from us — their lives have inherent meaning, at the very least for the purpose of their story.
In a sense, we are empowered. We sit down at our cubicle desk or look in the mirror while brushing our teeth and say: I’m the main character. My life, too, is a story. Conversely, perhaps we delude ourselves in a manner parallel to Don Quixote by assuming as our role models the likes of Jim and Pam. In an attempt to humanize itself, contemporary media actually romanticizes the reality upon which it is based.
Returning to Cervantes, many of his most likable characters are ordinary and beautiful in their plainness. An innkeeper, in a show of radical brilliance, suggests that Don Quixote pack shirts for his adventures. Don Quixote’s housekeeper and niece, who wish for his health and sanity, exemplify familial concern and innocence. Cervantes’ work serves to condemn excessive desire — for knighthood, romance, and glory. Perhaps by taming our appetites, we flourish.
Yet Cervantes’ incongruently normal characters also live within a story.
Should we?
