You know a writer* is talented when they can break the rules (punctuation, grammar, dialogue, genre, length) and you barely notice, let alone care.
You know a writer is really talented when they flaunt convention so brilliantly that the rules end up looking pointless, even petty.
J.D Salinger springs to mind. He used exclamation marks, italics, slang and repetition with (what appears to be) delicious abandon.
But he walked a fine line, and I've no doubt he knew it. Too many "goddamns" or a misplaced "phony", and Holden would be a caricature, not a character; too much "horsing around" and readers would feel irritated, not awed.
But Salinger broke the rules and, more importantly, got away with it.
According to Holden, "you're lucky if you get time to sneeze in this goddamn phenomenal world".
But in this case it wasn't luck, it was skill.
*or musician, director, artist... I just couldn't think of good examples. Anybody?
Friday, November 19, 2010
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Resignation versus indignation
One of the things I like (and very occasionally hate) most about being in a book club, is having to read novels I wouldn't necessarily choose myself.
Last month we read Jonathan Franzen's latest book. It's called Freedom and it's about a horribly dysfunctional American family. Under different circumstances, this is a novel I would probably have abandoned halfway through. It's compelling, insightful and brilliant, but incredibly disturbing.
I'd like to think Franzen was deliberately exaggerating the extent to which his characters manipulate, deceive and abuse one another, but the tone isn't sensational, it's matter-of-fact. Instead of outrage, there's resignation. He seems to be saying, "like it or not, this is the way things are".
In a culture where coming across as zealous, judgemental, self-righteous or interfering is to be avoided at all costs, resignation is an attractive (and easy) option.
But some things aren't OK, and will never be OK.
Thanks largely to the internet, viewing pornography is becoming socially acceptable. This may be "the way things are", but is that any grounds for excusing, let alone accepting, it?
Just as being accepting doesn't necessarily mean you're more forward-thinking than everybody else, being indignant doesn't necessarily mean you think you're better than everybody else.
It might just mean you're thinking for yourself.
Last month we read Jonathan Franzen's latest book. It's called Freedom and it's about a horribly dysfunctional American family. Under different circumstances, this is a novel I would probably have abandoned halfway through. It's compelling, insightful and brilliant, but incredibly disturbing.
I'd like to think Franzen was deliberately exaggerating the extent to which his characters manipulate, deceive and abuse one another, but the tone isn't sensational, it's matter-of-fact. Instead of outrage, there's resignation. He seems to be saying, "like it or not, this is the way things are".
In a culture where coming across as zealous, judgemental, self-righteous or interfering is to be avoided at all costs, resignation is an attractive (and easy) option.
But some things aren't OK, and will never be OK.
Thanks largely to the internet, viewing pornography is becoming socially acceptable. This may be "the way things are", but is that any grounds for excusing, let alone accepting, it?
Just as being accepting doesn't necessarily mean you're more forward-thinking than everybody else, being indignant doesn't necessarily mean you think you're better than everybody else.
It might just mean you're thinking for yourself.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
The nature of the quest
Last week I listened to an interesting exchange between a Humanist and a Christian on the UK radio show "Unbelievable".
I hastily transcribed part of the discussion (it's a little long, but at least worth a skim):
Alister McGrath (theologian and scientist):
...I've found an answer which I believe to be right just as I know you've found an answer which you believe to be right...
Caspar Melville (editor New Humanist magazine):
It seems to me, not to be rude, but actually I'm not like you in that, I don't think I've found an answer I deem to be right. To me, it's a perpetual quest... the quest is it, life is the quest. Life is looking at all the stories, trying to glean from stories some meaning, trying to be the best person you can be in the world.
I don't think I've found the truth and I really worry about people who claim that they have found the truth, because the next thing they want to do, is tell other people about that truth, and then the next thing they want to do, is they want to impose that version of reality on other people. That is the imperial element of religion which I find really difficult to deal with. So I choose doubt over certainly, fundamentally.
...I have to try and construct my own version of provisional truth all the time. That's why I still want to read books. To me, I don't have one good book that I live my life by, I have thousands of books and I'm still looking for new ones and I learn a new thing from a new book...
Justin Brierly (Premier Christian Radio host): Are you suggesting religion effectively ends the quest for openness?
Melville: Sometimes it does and I think that's self-evident because we know societies where people only read one book, they only have access to one book, there's one set of stories...
McGrath: Do you think you'll come to a point in your quest where you'll pause and say, 'Hey, I think this is right', or by definition are you going to keep questing?
...It seems to me that [for you,] thinking you've found the truth is a bad thing in itself.
Melville: I do, and I'm worried about people who stand up and say, 'I've found the truth'. If you're saying, 'It's my truth, this is what I believe', that's fine, but actually, scratching the surface a bit, you're not just going to say that, you're going to say, 'I've found the truth for me, for everyone else, and actually it's the truth of the world, it's the truth of human nature'.
Brierly: But isn't that what Richard Dawkins says?
Melville: No! All he says is, that argument is wrong; he doesn't say 'I know the truth of human nature', he implies that science may be able to find those answers and I disagree with him about that. I don't think something like the truth of human nature, the truth of why we are here, is amenable to one single answer. The point is to continue to ask the question and doubt.... [talks about finding meaning in fragments and experiences]
But none of it is capital "T" truth that I can conscript other people into believing. I accept their right to make their journey on that and actually, if I ever felt that I'd come to that moment where I've reached the final truth or revelation, that would really worry me. Because what keeps me going is intellectual curiosity and wanting to answer a question I'm not sure is possible to answer...
----ends-----
To me, it seems as if the statement, "I don't think I've found an answer I deem to be right", is refuted by Melville himself. The approach he deems to be right is to "quest", taking what you will from where you will along the way - provided you don't take any one truth too seriously.
But what is he questing for? Surely it can't be truth, because it would "worry" him if he found it, and he admits to thinking that finding the truth (or at least thinking you have) is a bad thing in itself.
Then again, he obviously thinks his approach is right (true?).
I'm also curious about Melville's attitude to truth when it's not in reference to spirituality. Presumably the assertion that he was a guest on this radio show would not be "worrying". Perhaps this would be acceptable because the claim is uncontentious and innocuous?
Melville agrees he is concerned that religion can end openness - but to what extent can a quest be open and genuine when you've already decided on its outcome?
He also seems to think that being intellectually and emotionally convinced by a capital "T" truth jeopardises a person's ability to keep asking important questions. But what if there is one true God, who has revealed himself in nature, in history, in humanity? What if there is a plausible and cohesive explanation of why we're here and what our purpose is? If that were the case, I think you could argue the opposite.
I'd love to hear your thoughts...
I hastily transcribed part of the discussion (it's a little long, but at least worth a skim):
Alister McGrath (theologian and scientist):
...I've found an answer which I believe to be right just as I know you've found an answer which you believe to be right...
Caspar Melville (editor New Humanist magazine):
It seems to me, not to be rude, but actually I'm not like you in that, I don't think I've found an answer I deem to be right. To me, it's a perpetual quest... the quest is it, life is the quest. Life is looking at all the stories, trying to glean from stories some meaning, trying to be the best person you can be in the world.
I don't think I've found the truth and I really worry about people who claim that they have found the truth, because the next thing they want to do, is tell other people about that truth, and then the next thing they want to do, is they want to impose that version of reality on other people. That is the imperial element of religion which I find really difficult to deal with. So I choose doubt over certainly, fundamentally.
...I have to try and construct my own version of provisional truth all the time. That's why I still want to read books. To me, I don't have one good book that I live my life by, I have thousands of books and I'm still looking for new ones and I learn a new thing from a new book...
Justin Brierly (Premier Christian Radio host): Are you suggesting religion effectively ends the quest for openness?
Melville: Sometimes it does and I think that's self-evident because we know societies where people only read one book, they only have access to one book, there's one set of stories...
McGrath: Do you think you'll come to a point in your quest where you'll pause and say, 'Hey, I think this is right', or by definition are you going to keep questing?
...It seems to me that [for you,] thinking you've found the truth is a bad thing in itself.
Melville: I do, and I'm worried about people who stand up and say, 'I've found the truth'. If you're saying, 'It's my truth, this is what I believe', that's fine, but actually, scratching the surface a bit, you're not just going to say that, you're going to say, 'I've found the truth for me, for everyone else, and actually it's the truth of the world, it's the truth of human nature'.
Brierly: But isn't that what Richard Dawkins says?
Melville: No! All he says is, that argument is wrong; he doesn't say 'I know the truth of human nature', he implies that science may be able to find those answers and I disagree with him about that. I don't think something like the truth of human nature, the truth of why we are here, is amenable to one single answer. The point is to continue to ask the question and doubt.... [talks about finding meaning in fragments and experiences]
But none of it is capital "T" truth that I can conscript other people into believing. I accept their right to make their journey on that and actually, if I ever felt that I'd come to that moment where I've reached the final truth or revelation, that would really worry me. Because what keeps me going is intellectual curiosity and wanting to answer a question I'm not sure is possible to answer...
----ends-----
To me, it seems as if the statement, "I don't think I've found an answer I deem to be right", is refuted by Melville himself. The approach he deems to be right is to "quest", taking what you will from where you will along the way - provided you don't take any one truth too seriously.
But what is he questing for? Surely it can't be truth, because it would "worry" him if he found it, and he admits to thinking that finding the truth (or at least thinking you have) is a bad thing in itself.
Then again, he obviously thinks his approach is right (true?).
I'm also curious about Melville's attitude to truth when it's not in reference to spirituality. Presumably the assertion that he was a guest on this radio show would not be "worrying". Perhaps this would be acceptable because the claim is uncontentious and innocuous?
Melville agrees he is concerned that religion can end openness - but to what extent can a quest be open and genuine when you've already decided on its outcome?
He also seems to think that being intellectually and emotionally convinced by a capital "T" truth jeopardises a person's ability to keep asking important questions. But what if there is one true God, who has revealed himself in nature, in history, in humanity? What if there is a plausible and cohesive explanation of why we're here and what our purpose is? If that were the case, I think you could argue the opposite.
I'd love to hear your thoughts...
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Being a kid is awesome
Being a kid is awesome. You're expected to come home with paint on your clothes, twigs in your hair, dirt in your nails and food just about anywhere.
You laugh when something's funny and cry when it's sad and say what you think without, well, thinking.
Tiny treats and lame excursions are unbearably exciting - you skip, dance and sing your way down supermarket aisles without even considering the possibility you look and sound anything less than exceptional.
And you never lose sleep over a member of the opposite sex.
But for how long? Especially if your parents buy into yuckky marketing that seeks to sexualise and/or turn you into a fashion accessory. And according to this article, consumer demand is growing.
You laugh when something's funny and cry when it's sad and say what you think without, well, thinking.
Tiny treats and lame excursions are unbearably exciting - you skip, dance and sing your way down supermarket aisles without even considering the possibility you look and sound anything less than exceptional.
And you never lose sleep over a member of the opposite sex.
But for how long? Especially if your parents buy into yuckky marketing that seeks to sexualise and/or turn you into a fashion accessory. And according to this article, consumer demand is growing.
 | |
| A little girl dressed up as a Witchery mum |
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
"Activism-lite"
In an article in last weekend's Australian (Twitter-led revolution reveals a character limit), Geoff Elliott uses the term "activism-lite" to describe the way social-media users rally in support of a cause.
I think it's a pretty apt description of the causes we "support" with no more than a mouse click.
The more groups we join on Facebook, the more implausible the notion that our support goes any further than a flippant click and a desire to further supplement our profile with an array of ideologies we're proud to call our own.
I'm not saying it's bad to voice support in this way (clicking "like" in response to a comment is easier than composing an intelligible response, and seems better than offering none), I'm just wondering whether the ease with which we can do so online means we "rally" more and, feeling as though we've done our bit, do less.
I think it's a pretty apt description of the causes we "support" with no more than a mouse click.
The more groups we join on Facebook, the more implausible the notion that our support goes any further than a flippant click and a desire to further supplement our profile with an array of ideologies we're proud to call our own.
I'm not saying it's bad to voice support in this way (clicking "like" in response to a comment is easier than composing an intelligible response, and seems better than offering none), I'm just wondering whether the ease with which we can do so online means we "rally" more and, feeling as though we've done our bit, do less.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
A whole dreamy day
Last week I had lunch with my grandparents in the city. As they walked me back to my office, my grandfather pointed to a nondescript building with a corporate logo and tinted glass.
In the 1950s, it was the hotel of choice for Greeks in town for a wedding.
Granddad recalled meeting my grandmother out the front when they were still just kids, and spending a whole dreamy day showing her around the city.
She was wearing a red and white dress she'd made herself, he says, and she smiles. He knew she loved oysters, so at lunchtime he took her to the oyster bar downstairs at David Jones.
It cost him four shillings - they could have gone to the pictures four times instead - but of course, it was worth it.
Now when I see that building I don't see a bland corporate office. I see my grandmother as a young girl, standing out the front in a red and white dress, about to experience one of the happiest days of her life.
In the 1950s, it was the hotel of choice for Greeks in town for a wedding.
Granddad recalled meeting my grandmother out the front when they were still just kids, and spending a whole dreamy day showing her around the city.
She was wearing a red and white dress she'd made herself, he says, and she smiles. He knew she loved oysters, so at lunchtime he took her to the oyster bar downstairs at David Jones.
It cost him four shillings - they could have gone to the pictures four times instead - but of course, it was worth it.
Now when I see that building I don't see a bland corporate office. I see my grandmother as a young girl, standing out the front in a red and white dress, about to experience one of the happiest days of her life.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Treasures
A lady I know had her handbag returned to her after it had been stolen... thirty five years previously! It was like one of those little time capsules, full of ID with a photo of her younger self, a letter that she had been sent, make-up, etc.
This reminded me of what I used to do as a child. I would get around to cleaning my room every one or two years, and I loved finding old handbags full of things that I'd forgotten about. So I started to plant things for myself to find a few years in the future. Some money (a nice surprise!), a lipstick, a little note, etc.
If I lost my handbag today and had it returned to me in 20 years, I would find five types of foreign money, tic tacs, a camera with a memory card full of photos, a beanie, panadol, an Oyster card, and bandaids.
A treasure trove!
This reminded me of what I used to do as a child. I would get around to cleaning my room every one or two years, and I loved finding old handbags full of things that I'd forgotten about. So I started to plant things for myself to find a few years in the future. Some money (a nice surprise!), a lipstick, a little note, etc.
If I lost my handbag today and had it returned to me in 20 years, I would find five types of foreign money, tic tacs, a camera with a memory card full of photos, a beanie, panadol, an Oyster card, and bandaids.
A treasure trove!
Monday, September 20, 2010
One choice too many
I guess it was only a matter of time - euthanasia is back on the parliamentary agenda.
The more I think about this issue, the more strongly I feel about it.
Even if we could somehow ensure the option of inducing death would never cause anyone to feel pressured or guilt-tripped into making that choice - which we couldn't - I'd still be against it.
Even we could be sure it wouldn't lead to a survival-of-the-fittest mentality that deems people who are past a certain point a liability, and even if we could be sure it wouldn't compromise funding for quality palliative care - I'd still be against it.
Caring for someone who is dying is difficult enough when the focus is on making them as comfortable as possible.
I worry that inviting people to choose whether or not they should end their life sooner - and expecting doctors to offer advice if not help - would only make this process more complicated, upsetting and guilt-ridden for everyone involved.
It's not that I don't feel for people who desperately want their pain or the pain of a loved one to end, and it's not that some individual case studies don't make me question my stance. It's just that I don't see this as the answer.
Most importantly of all, I'd argue that the assumption we all have "the right to die" is based on a presupposition that warrants intense scrutiny.
The more I think about this issue, the more strongly I feel about it.
Even if we could somehow ensure the option of inducing death would never cause anyone to feel pressured or guilt-tripped into making that choice - which we couldn't - I'd still be against it.
Even we could be sure it wouldn't lead to a survival-of-the-fittest mentality that deems people who are past a certain point a liability, and even if we could be sure it wouldn't compromise funding for quality palliative care - I'd still be against it.
Caring for someone who is dying is difficult enough when the focus is on making them as comfortable as possible.
I worry that inviting people to choose whether or not they should end their life sooner - and expecting doctors to offer advice if not help - would only make this process more complicated, upsetting and guilt-ridden for everyone involved.
It's not that I don't feel for people who desperately want their pain or the pain of a loved one to end, and it's not that some individual case studies don't make me question my stance. It's just that I don't see this as the answer.
Most importantly of all, I'd argue that the assumption we all have "the right to die" is based on a presupposition that warrants intense scrutiny.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
The girl who collected words
Last night I met a Japanese girl who knew how to say “I love you” in multiple languages.
“I used to collect 'I love yous',” she explained.
Then, if somebody said it to her in another language, she'd be able to understand and reciprocate.
She's since given up. Having had no opportunity to make use of her collection, she deemed it useless.
“I used to collect 'I love yous',” she explained.
Then, if somebody said it to her in another language, she'd be able to understand and reciprocate.
She's since given up. Having had no opportunity to make use of her collection, she deemed it useless.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
A battle not worth fighting
An event taking place next August made the news today. Why? Because of its dress code.
The dress code - which requires people to cover their thighs, shoulders and everything in-between - has received quite a lot of publicity.
This is surprising considering the event: a two hour, after hours swimming lesson.
Perhaps the "outcry" is less surprising when you consider the reasons behind it are religious - the ban was designed to accommodate Muslim women during Ramadan.
I know religion is a great way to stir up controversy, but in this case, I'm not sure it's warranted.
A woman interviewed on SBS news expressed the view that people like her shouldn't have to cover up for people like them. As far as I can tell, no one's asking her to. And even if she is planning to attend this particular swimming lesson, would it be so terrible to wear board shorts and a t-shirt just this once?
I think religion has a lot to answer for, but there's something to be said for choosing your battles.
The dress code - which requires people to cover their thighs, shoulders and everything in-between - has received quite a lot of publicity.
This is surprising considering the event: a two hour, after hours swimming lesson.
Perhaps the "outcry" is less surprising when you consider the reasons behind it are religious - the ban was designed to accommodate Muslim women during Ramadan.
I know religion is a great way to stir up controversy, but in this case, I'm not sure it's warranted.
A woman interviewed on SBS news expressed the view that people like her shouldn't have to cover up for people like them. As far as I can tell, no one's asking her to. And even if she is planning to attend this particular swimming lesson, would it be so terrible to wear board shorts and a t-shirt just this once?
I think religion has a lot to answer for, but there's something to be said for choosing your battles.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Counting down the days
A couple of years ago, my husband made a website to count down the days till a certain job was over.
He hadn't given it a second thought until a few days ago, when he glanced at the analytics.
Apparently there's a market out there for counting down to (or up from) events, because thousands of random strangers have created a total of 16,000 countdowns (and ups).
There are countdowns to babies, weddings and holidays, there's a countdown to deer season (71 days, 0 hours, 59 minutes, 58 seconds), one to retirement (806 days, 1 hour, 0 minutes, 48 seconds) and one to going home (0 days, hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds).
It's never been advertised but more than 500 people visit the site each day. I'm both fascinated and disturbed.
countdowndays.com
He hadn't given it a second thought until a few days ago, when he glanced at the analytics.
Apparently there's a market out there for counting down to (or up from) events, because thousands of random strangers have created a total of 16,000 countdowns (and ups).
There are countdowns to babies, weddings and holidays, there's a countdown to deer season (71 days, 0 hours, 59 minutes, 58 seconds), one to retirement (806 days, 1 hour, 0 minutes, 48 seconds) and one to going home (0 days, hours, 0 minutes, 0 seconds).
It's never been advertised but more than 500 people visit the site each day. I'm both fascinated and disturbed.
countdowndays.com
Double standards
I'm ashamed to admit it, but I used to think there was no need to say sorry to the Aboriginal people. We invaded their land and stole their children, but the worst of it was over before I was even born. What did I have to apologise for?
I also used to find it incredibly unfair when my primary school teacher gave my class a detention without excusing those of us who were (very indignantly) innocent.
Part of me still struggles with the notion of taking responsibility for something I wasn't directly involved in - though I'm happy to take credit for my upbringing and education, which fell neatly into my lap.
I wonder the extent to which my attitudes are a product of my culture's obsession with the rights/needs/desires of the individual, and our dwindling sense of community. It leaves little room for the notion of corporate guilt.
Even harder to accept is the Bible's teaching that the first ever human's rebellion against God tainted the entire human race.
Tim Keller, a New York preacher, engages with these issues in his talk "Real Friendship and the Pleading Priest". The talk is about Abraham's first intercessory prayer, which implies a corporate responsibility where sin - but also righteousness - can be ascribed to people.
Before explaining how and why Moses' actions point to the ultimate intercessor, Keller thinks through some of the cultural issues that could be barriers for his New Yorker audience.
I also used to find it incredibly unfair when my primary school teacher gave my class a detention without excusing those of us who were (very indignantly) innocent.
Part of me still struggles with the notion of taking responsibility for something I wasn't directly involved in - though I'm happy to take credit for my upbringing and education, which fell neatly into my lap.
I wonder the extent to which my attitudes are a product of my culture's obsession with the rights/needs/desires of the individual, and our dwindling sense of community. It leaves little room for the notion of corporate guilt.
Even harder to accept is the Bible's teaching that the first ever human's rebellion against God tainted the entire human race.
Tim Keller, a New York preacher, engages with these issues in his talk "Real Friendship and the Pleading Priest". The talk is about Abraham's first intercessory prayer, which implies a corporate responsibility where sin - but also righteousness - can be ascribed to people.
Before explaining how and why Moses' actions point to the ultimate intercessor, Keller thinks through some of the cultural issues that could be barriers for his New Yorker audience.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
The lucky country
I interviewed a guy about suicide today. Apparently it's become the single most likely cause of death for Australian men under the age of 44 and women under 34. On average, seven Australians kill themselves every day.
And countless more have attempted, or at least contemplated, doing the same.
Australia is a rich, vast, beautiful place to live. We complain about the state of education, healthcare, public transport and housing, but that's only because there's not much else to complain about. Compared to other countries, we appear to be doing OK.
And yet, we're killing ourselves. And not really talking about it.
Clinical depression is obviously part of it, and the silence isn't helping, but the numbers are so high... I can't help but think there's more to it than that.
And countless more have attempted, or at least contemplated, doing the same.
Australia is a rich, vast, beautiful place to live. We complain about the state of education, healthcare, public transport and housing, but that's only because there's not much else to complain about. Compared to other countries, we appear to be doing OK.
And yet, we're killing ourselves. And not really talking about it.
Clinical depression is obviously part of it, and the silence isn't helping, but the numbers are so high... I can't help but think there's more to it than that.
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