privilege: a right, immunity or benefit enjoyed by a particular person or restricted group of persons.
When you were growing up, did your parents discuss privilege with you? What do you recall about those discussions?
My parents were decent hard working people, committed to their four children. If they ever discussed privilege with us, I don't recall it. And though neither of them are around to support or refute it, my guess would be they'd both have had trouble seeing themselves as privileged, given our day-to-day economic situation. But economics is only part of the story of privilege.
Raising our daughter, my wife and I were unified in our approach to this subject. We regularly emphasized to her how privileged our family was - economically, racially, culturally. It was important to us that our daughter grow up knowing the benefits her privilege - in all its permutations - conferred upon her.
Now, I've started a post about this subject several times since the inception of my blog. Cowardice and my need for approval prevented me from publishing until ... along came another bootstraps story, bravado and cultural myopia tossed in, no charge. Heard one of those tall tales lately? I can easily spot them; they were once part of my own legend. I'm just grateful I recognized my own privilege and dropped the bootstraps malarkey before becoming a parent.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Monday, November 9, 2015
Four For Four
At this point in my life, the highest praise I can bestow on an author is to spend any of my remaining precious reading time returning to their work. Since first being exposed to Colm Toibin five years ago via his novel "Brooklyn" - just released as a film starring Saoirse Ronan - I've returned three more times. And each time I've been knocked out.
In "The Master" (2004) Toibin delivered me into the private world of author Henry James. Although my familiarity with the novels and stories of James is not very deep, several of my Great Courses CD series cover his work in some detail. Having recently listened to a few of those I was better able to follow the references to seminal James' characters like Daisy Miller and Isabel Archer that Toibin expertly weaves into his narrative.
But even without that background, "The Master" is so rich and nuanced. "He was ready to listen, always ready to do that, but not prepared to reveal the mind at work, the imagination, or the depth of feeling." "...he also wanted to keep the past to himself, a prized and private possession." "...how memory and regret can mingle, how much sorrow can be held within, and how nothing seems to have any shape or meaning until it is well past and lost..." Toibin's books ache with longing.
This novel came most vividly alive for me in the passages where Toibin describes the friendship between James and Constance Fenimore Woolson, another esteemed and intensely interior 19th century author. "He was not allowed to pity her, nor was he allowed to know her fully, except as a set of passionate contradictions underlined by two essential truths: she was immensely clever and she was lonely." If any of you have spent time with Colm Toibin's work, I'd enjoy hearing about it. To me, he is a treasure.
In "The Master" (2004) Toibin delivered me into the private world of author Henry James. Although my familiarity with the novels and stories of James is not very deep, several of my Great Courses CD series cover his work in some detail. Having recently listened to a few of those I was better able to follow the references to seminal James' characters like Daisy Miller and Isabel Archer that Toibin expertly weaves into his narrative.
But even without that background, "The Master" is so rich and nuanced. "He was ready to listen, always ready to do that, but not prepared to reveal the mind at work, the imagination, or the depth of feeling." "...he also wanted to keep the past to himself, a prized and private possession." "...how memory and regret can mingle, how much sorrow can be held within, and how nothing seems to have any shape or meaning until it is well past and lost..." Toibin's books ache with longing.
This novel came most vividly alive for me in the passages where Toibin describes the friendship between James and Constance Fenimore Woolson, another esteemed and intensely interior 19th century author. "He was not allowed to pity her, nor was he allowed to know her fully, except as a set of passionate contradictions underlined by two essential truths: she was immensely clever and she was lonely." If any of you have spent time with Colm Toibin's work, I'd enjoy hearing about it. To me, he is a treasure.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Wait ... Wait .... Wait
How skilled are you at postponing gratification? Who or what helped you develop the skill? How has the value of postponing gratification shown up in your life?
It's likely the most formative link in my ability to postpone gratification was having parents who lived through the Great Depression. One of my earliest memories is hearing my folks continually stress the importance of "saving for a rainy day". Even though I subsequently overdid the saving bit a little - sometimes not fully enjoying what I'd earned - it would have been a whole lot worse had I ignored my parent's early guidance and not learned the value of postponing gratification. How effective was the earliest modeling you got in this skill?
And though I didn't start out learning to play a musical instrument thinking it would help fortify this skill, that is precisely what happened. The intrinsic rewards connected to all those hours of solitary practice were never quite adequate for young adult Pat. The extrinsic rewards - when there were any - were far removed from those solitary hours. Net result: More skill at postponing gratification.
At almost 66, I now understand that my increasing skill at postponing gratification assisted me countless times to push through my frustration - itself an inescapable element of getting better at any instrument. It would be difficult to over-state how valuable that lesson has been for me.
It's likely the most formative link in my ability to postpone gratification was having parents who lived through the Great Depression. One of my earliest memories is hearing my folks continually stress the importance of "saving for a rainy day". Even though I subsequently overdid the saving bit a little - sometimes not fully enjoying what I'd earned - it would have been a whole lot worse had I ignored my parent's early guidance and not learned the value of postponing gratification. How effective was the earliest modeling you got in this skill?
And though I didn't start out learning to play a musical instrument thinking it would help fortify this skill, that is precisely what happened. The intrinsic rewards connected to all those hours of solitary practice were never quite adequate for young adult Pat. The extrinsic rewards - when there were any - were far removed from those solitary hours. Net result: More skill at postponing gratification.
At almost 66, I now understand that my increasing skill at postponing gratification assisted me countless times to push through my frustration - itself an inescapable element of getting better at any instrument. It would be difficult to over-state how valuable that lesson has been for me.
Friday, November 6, 2015
SEE IT HERE - DOGS & CATS ICING THE PUCK!!
Regular readers: Feel free to bypass this post. File it under: Shameless self & family promotion.
Animal lovers & sports fans: Please continue reading.
Animal lovers - Even though the highlight promised in the post title is completely bogus, I do have something to tantalize you into periodically visiting my blog, while shamelessly & simultaneously promoting my daughter's career. With a partner, my daughter produces, writes and directs brief clips for a service called "Barkbox" - really. The clip in the link directly below is one of the best from the series.
https://www.facebook.com/barkbox/videos/vl.1648727132077693/921245681244817/?type=1&theater
Sports fans - Although I have already unsuccessfully tried enticing you with no less than four earlier posts - each containing a stunning sports-related metaphor - I'm not yet ready to throw in the towel. We may be in the home stretch vis-a-vis my sniveling attempts to woo you but it ain't over til it's over. And even if I strike out again today, there's no penalty for icing an imaginary puck, right?
Animal lovers & sports fans: Please continue reading.
Animal lovers - Even though the highlight promised in the post title is completely bogus, I do have something to tantalize you into periodically visiting my blog, while shamelessly & simultaneously promoting my daughter's career. With a partner, my daughter produces, writes and directs brief clips for a service called "Barkbox" - really. The clip in the link directly below is one of the best from the series.
https://www.facebook.com/barkbox/videos/vl.1648727132077693/921245681244817/?type=1&theater
Sports fans - Although I have already unsuccessfully tried enticing you with no less than four earlier posts - each containing a stunning sports-related metaphor - I'm not yet ready to throw in the towel. We may be in the home stretch vis-a-vis my sniveling attempts to woo you but it ain't over til it's over. And even if I strike out again today, there's no penalty for icing an imaginary puck, right?
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
The Art Of Hearing Heartbeats
What percentage of the novels you've finished over the last three years have deepened your experience of living?
http://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/search?q=Deepening+The+Experience+Of+Living
Since first being exposed to that phrase, I've used it as model. Three years on, I'd estimate about 20% of the novels I've finished have met that bar. Some of them, like the exceptional book cited in my November 4 2012 post above - Jaimy Gordon's "The Lord of Misrule" - did so by exposing me to an unfamiliar world. And others - like "The Art Of Hearing Heartbeats" (Jan-Philip Sendker - 2002) - did so by re-familiarizing me with the fundamentals we all share - the need to love and be loved, the mysteries of the human heart, the balancing act that is life.
Sendker's book is not perfect. Parts of it tug a little too much at the heart, the short chapters can be a bit episodic and the central surprise is not hard to see coming - all minor quibbles. The prose is assured, Tin Win's backstory and his daughter Julia's growing understanding of the forces that shaped her father are skillfully depicted, and two of the chapters near the end featuring Tin Win and Mi Mi are deeply moving yet beautifully understated.
When any of you read this gem, please let me know how your experience of life has deepened.
http://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/search?q=Deepening+The+Experience+Of+Living
Since first being exposed to that phrase, I've used it as model. Three years on, I'd estimate about 20% of the novels I've finished have met that bar. Some of them, like the exceptional book cited in my November 4 2012 post above - Jaimy Gordon's "The Lord of Misrule" - did so by exposing me to an unfamiliar world. And others - like "The Art Of Hearing Heartbeats" (Jan-Philip Sendker - 2002) - did so by re-familiarizing me with the fundamentals we all share - the need to love and be loved, the mysteries of the human heart, the balancing act that is life.
Sendker's book is not perfect. Parts of it tug a little too much at the heart, the short chapters can be a bit episodic and the central surprise is not hard to see coming - all minor quibbles. The prose is assured, Tin Win's backstory and his daughter Julia's growing understanding of the forces that shaped her father are skillfully depicted, and two of the chapters near the end featuring Tin Win and Mi Mi are deeply moving yet beautifully understated.
When any of you read this gem, please let me know how your experience of life has deepened.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
Request For A Gentle Push
Why do you think the overwhelming majority of book club participants are women?
Before attending my first book club meeting in 2010, I anticipated I'd be in the minority. But I did not anticipate how few men I'd ever see. And any men I've regularly seen - with one exception - have been at the meetings with wives or partners. Over five years, eighteen clubs, more than one hundred meetings, only one book - "Founding Brothers" (Joseph Ellis) - attracted two men aside from myself. I clearly recall that meeting and the book discussed because it was such a notable exception.
My wife has suggested I start my own club, see if I can attract some guys. It's not clear to me why I've so far resisted her reasonable suggestion. What's the worst that can happen, right? If there are any guys out there on the bell curve who enjoy a book club, please tell me what appeals to you. Maybe your input will be the gentle push that propels me to the next step.
Before attending my first book club meeting in 2010, I anticipated I'd be in the minority. But I did not anticipate how few men I'd ever see. And any men I've regularly seen - with one exception - have been at the meetings with wives or partners. Over five years, eighteen clubs, more than one hundred meetings, only one book - "Founding Brothers" (Joseph Ellis) - attracted two men aside from myself. I clearly recall that meeting and the book discussed because it was such a notable exception.
My wife has suggested I start my own club, see if I can attract some guys. It's not clear to me why I've so far resisted her reasonable suggestion. What's the worst that can happen, right? If there are any guys out there on the bell curve who enjoy a book club, please tell me what appeals to you. Maybe your input will be the gentle push that propels me to the next step.
Monday, November 2, 2015
Counting Before Publishing
Whenever capturing a kernel in my blog notebook that has potential to later put me on my high horse as I compose a post, I frequently add an admonishment right alongside the kernel. Of late, the one that seems to work best is "Be careful, Pat". Kind of the written equivalent of counting to ten before opening my mouth.
When e-mail first became popular, I recall once being instructed not to send anything written while angry or otherwise upset. And it's possible that instruction contributes to my self-admonishments. But even if there is no connection, being more deliberate before publishing 1200 blog posts has had some unintended and welcome consequences in my face-to-face interactions. I'm both more tactful and marginally less judgmental than I was five years ago.
Though no one is likely to mistake me for a Zen master, it's gratifying to feel myself growing. So, I plan to continue being careful.
When e-mail first became popular, I recall once being instructed not to send anything written while angry or otherwise upset. And it's possible that instruction contributes to my self-admonishments. But even if there is no connection, being more deliberate before publishing 1200 blog posts has had some unintended and welcome consequences in my face-to-face interactions. I'm both more tactful and marginally less judgmental than I was five years ago.
Though no one is likely to mistake me for a Zen master, it's gratifying to feel myself growing. So, I plan to continue being careful.
Sunday, November 1, 2015
One Year, Ten Favorites, Three Surprises
While recently compiling a requested list of ten favorite books finished over the past year, it suddenly dawned on me why these lists usually bedevil me - the requested parameters are often not narrow enough. I raced through this recent request because deciding on ten top books from a single year is cake compared to the dreaded but oft-requested "all time favorite" list of books, recordings, or films. And when a requester combines the "all time" nonsense with a large number, my head throbs. Those "1001 (fill in the blank) You Must (Read, Hear, See, Visit, Eat, Genuflect To) Before You Die" books all have a team of contributors, for crying out loud. Have mercy on an approval-seeking, semi-obsessive list making, takes-requests-like-this-way-too-serious solo blogger, I want to cry.
Do any of your lists ever have titles? If yes, read on. If no, this might be a good time to sign off the bell curve. This latest list of mine - and remember, it was requested - is called "Top Ten: 11/1/14 - 10/31/15". Six of the titles came to me without even glancing at my book journal, a sure sign a book is destined to stay with me; for the remaining four I consulted my journal. Surprise #1: Only one non-fiction title made the list - "The Secret History Of Wonder Woman" (Jill Lepore). Also, aside from Colm Toibin - whose luminous "Nora Webster" is one of the nine novels - all the other authors are new to me. That partially explains surprise #2: All ten books are 21st century titles; the oldest on the list is "Home" (2008) by Marilyne Robinson.
Surprise #3: "The Vanishing Act Of Esme Lennox" (Maggie O'Farrell) did not make the top ten for this period. Considering how O'Farrell's book moved me, this was obviously a good year. Please don't spoil the pleasure and closure I derived from this narrowly delineated assignment by asking which of the ten is my favorite, OK?
Do any of your lists ever have titles? If yes, read on. If no, this might be a good time to sign off the bell curve. This latest list of mine - and remember, it was requested - is called "Top Ten: 11/1/14 - 10/31/15". Six of the titles came to me without even glancing at my book journal, a sure sign a book is destined to stay with me; for the remaining four I consulted my journal. Surprise #1: Only one non-fiction title made the list - "The Secret History Of Wonder Woman" (Jill Lepore). Also, aside from Colm Toibin - whose luminous "Nora Webster" is one of the nine novels - all the other authors are new to me. That partially explains surprise #2: All ten books are 21st century titles; the oldest on the list is "Home" (2008) by Marilyne Robinson.
Surprise #3: "The Vanishing Act Of Esme Lennox" (Maggie O'Farrell) did not make the top ten for this period. Considering how O'Farrell's book moved me, this was obviously a good year. Please don't spoil the pleasure and closure I derived from this narrowly delineated assignment by asking which of the ten is my favorite, OK?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)