Watched the first half of "The Red Violin" today (am only watching portions of movies at any one time--too tired to make it all the way through a film on any given evening). Is it absurd to think that objects have a soul? And, do adults ever love objects as fervently as children do? The scene where the child is so attached to his violin that he sleeps with it brought tears to my eyes--the film was worth watching for this one scene. Part of the joy of becoming a mother is entering, at least vicariously, the enchanted world of children and their beloved objects.
My son will reach the six-month mark soon; I would say he has yet to exhibit a marked attachment to one object, although very early in life he seemed especially fond of one particular blanket (but he does not seem too interested in it now).
I rented an upright piano recently that produced such a rich and luxurious sound, especially for an upright, that I was inspired to compose music for the first time in my life. (I've played the piano since age 4.) When I listen to the pieces I wrote, I know that they needed that particular piano to come to life.
So yes, I do think objects are imbued with, if not a soul, at least the ability to draw out whatever remains soulful in the dessicated hearts of adults.
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