Elizabeth Porter
Jim Papworth
ENG 350R
Journal Entry #5
Truth in Science or Art
In the first section of Williams’ book, Leap, the passage which most captivated my attention was the passage which I least attended to. I didn’t even read the entire page, but the idea made an impression on me. In this passage, Williams connects two extremely long lists of colors with one simple question, “What is the
Tree of Knowledge?” (34-35) Up to this point in the story, Williams has struggled with the definition of truth. The passage describing the colors of creation represents one of William’s major struggles in determining truth by juxtaposing scientific words with artistic words, thus proving that art may not be as accurate as science but ultimately has more meaning.
The meaning of the passage is directly connected to the reason I didn’t read the entire page. Let me explain. Williams first begins to describe the colors of creation, “Flash red . . . rust brown . . . new blue . . . Roman ochre . . . burnt amber . . . ultramarine,” and other such colors—absolutely tantalizing the reader with the names for each hue (34). However, after her second question, asking us to define the
Tree of Knowledge, she starts listing plant nomenclature, which, by nature, is all in
Latin. This is the part I could not finish. Why would I spend my time pronouncing each foreign word when it means nothing to me? This, I think, is Williams’ point.
Latin does not speak to the soul like art does. Williams wants to understand the

meaning of the Tree of Knowledge, but what is knowledge? Is knowledge the hard truth, the provable truth, the scientific truth? Or is knowledge the true aesthetics, the true representation, the true experience? Which list of words give a better
“knowledge” of the colors of creation?
Williams doesn’t answer her own questions, especially at this stage of her story. However, I believe that she feels it important that we consider this openended question. Perhaps most people in her culture and community emphasized truth as a concrete, uniform, consistent form of categorization. This approach to truth resembles the patterns of nomenclature. Each root has a specific meaning that when combined with other roots can obtain only one meaning—refer to only one color. The rules are stiff: the first word is always capitalized while the second never is, each word must always appear in italics. Her community was also stiff and believed in one uniform definition of truth. However, those rules do not bring the non-scientist any closer to appreciating the beauty of these colors. The artist would much prefer the descriptive words that seem to paint the perfect color right into the imagination of the mind, even though each color would be different and “accuracy” would be lost. Although she does not explicitly say, I would venture to suggest that for Williams, truth is aesthetic experience; the significance of the Tree of Knowledge has nothing to do with rules and constructs.
Perhaps this is a reason she struggles with the church. I cannot be sure, but the point of this passage is powerful. Artistic interpretation of truth can be beautiful, comprehendible, and designed to be experienced. Scientific (or formulaic) interpretation of truth can be unintelligible, distant, and mismatched. She does not

answer her own question, she leaves it for the reader to decide. “What is the Tree of
Knowledge?” The passage you soaked up, or the one you couldn’t finish (34)?
Williams is truly an incredible writer to be able to express such deep questions in such a powerful, indirect, meditative sort of way. Through this method, she is able to share her doubts with the reader, instead of just throwing her doubts in the reader’s face.