Barthes and the Wood Wick Candle

No longer are we in the times of appreciation for fire and its history. For at one time this simple thing, a spark and catch of flame to burn, was once our only light beyond the darkness that followed day. Fire was one of man's very first inventions, and made way for the modern world through constant technological advancement. Often we forget how long it's been with us, lighting the faces of our ancestors as they shared personal history and faith among one another. Hopefully the appreciation for this major feat and adoration for the object itself is not lost in the digital age—where all we need to illuminate the darkness is a silent florescent buzz of a computer screen.

Let us start with its appearance before the wick is lit asunder. It stands, both stall and bold with a wooden top with the words “Wood Lights” etched in calligraphy. The cylindrical candle is in a glass holder with vertical uneven carvings going up the sides. As if this one candle is unlike the rest in its uneven outer terrain, expressing the very aesthetic that the scent conveys—Patchouli Woods. This is a smell of hippies in the woods—literally. As if the buyer is instantly one with nature and Mother Earth, as if all the evils of the mature and misguided world were put at ease with a campfire in the middle of no where. As if lighting this vessel will somehow save us from losing our fleeting past. Perhaps it's already happened and the key to staying alive and human is in the furthering of the past and not inventing of the future. I present to you, an invention of both clever and considerate appeal—the wooden wick candle.

The first thing I notice upon lighting it is that the wooden wick catches the flame much faster than the standard candle wick. It also emits a crackling coo to calm the nerves and transport the viewer to a camp fire on a chilly autumn night. Who could not appreciate this sentiment? The aroma is cleaner than expected, as if Barnes himself had set up this play: Knocking down the viewer with a scent/word like patchouli—to almost separate the masses. That is, between those who like patchouli and the rest of the world who despises it. I imagine, as I waft the heated air towards my nostrils, that even the latter would appreciate this clean but wooded experience the candle provides.

Already a half an hour into its life the wax is barely melted, and pools, now liquid, around the wick, only about ¾ inch in radius. Thank you for staying with me dear friend, it appears your life span may last many a lonely dark evening. Isn't that your purpose? For in today's technological advancements we no longer need fire to see, no longer need it to cook to eat. Then what purpose does it serve to us—all who want for nothing because we have everything. A friend perhaps? I am brought back to the movie “The Princess and the Goblin”, where a light and a song would protect against the terrors that lurk in the shadows. Maybe, just maybe, that is what this candle is meant to do. Metaphorically speaking, of course.