metaphortunate son (
metaphortunate) wrote2014-03-19 03:15 pm
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your heart, dispossessed
THE TWENTY-YEAR-OLD AT THE SKETCHY CORNER PHONE REPAIR PLACE FIXED MY PHONE.
Yay!
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I've been thinking about Allison's iconic line from The Breakfast Club:
One of the biggest parts of growing up, for me, has been slowly trying to grind it into my head that the world doesn't give a single solitary shit about my heart. The world cares about my hands. And what I do with them. That's the only thing that makes a difference to the world. My heart can contain oceans of feeling and it makes not a single difference to anyone outside my head unless I do the hard grinding work of doing something about it.
And I don't know about you, but my heart is kind of stupid? I find that if I care too much, it actually makes it harder to get up and do things. Also, I'm lazy. My heart wants to daydream. My heart wants things to just work out. My heart wants the Junebug to love it when I hug and kiss him as much as I love it; my heart doesn't want to do the hard work of figuring out how he likes to get attention and affection and express it that way instead. My heart doesn't want to do annoying repetitive research and organization at work, that over weeks and months and years accumulates into experience and understanding. The other day the Junebug was crying that he didn't WANT to do something and I told him I understood, I was going to do things I didn't want to do every single minute of the whole day. I tell my heart to shut up a lot. I tell it that I don't have to like the things I do, I just have to do them.
Do that for a few decades and yeah. Maybe your heart dies.
Because I think, all respect to Ms. Bujold, but I think Miles was wrong. I think that I am in fact buying my heart's desire with my heart. I spend all day ignoring my desires and doing things I don't want to do so that I can have the life I want - not, like, at some mythical point in the future, but right now - and that doesn't make any sense at all BUT IT'S TRUE. Moment to moment, my life is really annoying. On the occasion I get to take a step back and a deep breath, I love it. How - why - what?
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As part of the stupid week of stupidity I had fifteen minutes to kill in a bookstore and I accidentally bought a book we already own, because it was that kind of week. Having bought it, though, I went ahead and reread it. The Dispossessed, Ursula K. LeGuin, classic of the genre obviously. Really good book. But, two things I noticed, which I did not notice the previous time I had read it:
1) Though it's not explicitly about gender in the same way as The Left Hand of Darkness, or anything, there's a lot of gender in it. But just like Left Hand and its male pronouns, you can see the bits where LeGuin was explicitly thinking about gender, and you can also see where the patriarchy sneaks in around the corners. If you tell me that in your utopian society sex is totally egalitarian and free of weird fucked up power or ownership themes, but you show me that your sweet sympathetic hero tries to rape a woman the first time he gets drunk and never gives the slightest thought afterwards to how she might be feeling or tries to apologize or wonders about his actions or anything, you have depicted a different society that I think you meant to depict; one much more like our own.
2) Deliberately depicted, though, was the way that gender ties into the book's huge theme that survival depends on cooperation. LeGuin hammers it home that Shevek could not do his work without colleagues, people to bounce ideas off of, people to support him, people even to try to tear him down. He couldn't find them on Anarres so he had to go to Urras. And she also makes it very clear that a female physicist could not have found what Shevek found on Urras. A female physicist could not have developed the ansible because she might have been as bright and as motivated but she would have been stopped by the hard limits of what one person can do all alone.
Yay!
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I've been thinking about Allison's iconic line from The Breakfast Club:
When you grow up, your heart dies.I mean. There's some truth to it, isn't there?
One of the biggest parts of growing up, for me, has been slowly trying to grind it into my head that the world doesn't give a single solitary shit about my heart. The world cares about my hands. And what I do with them. That's the only thing that makes a difference to the world. My heart can contain oceans of feeling and it makes not a single difference to anyone outside my head unless I do the hard grinding work of doing something about it.
And I don't know about you, but my heart is kind of stupid? I find that if I care too much, it actually makes it harder to get up and do things. Also, I'm lazy. My heart wants to daydream. My heart wants things to just work out. My heart wants the Junebug to love it when I hug and kiss him as much as I love it; my heart doesn't want to do the hard work of figuring out how he likes to get attention and affection and express it that way instead. My heart doesn't want to do annoying repetitive research and organization at work, that over weeks and months and years accumulates into experience and understanding. The other day the Junebug was crying that he didn't WANT to do something and I told him I understood, I was going to do things I didn't want to do every single minute of the whole day. I tell my heart to shut up a lot. I tell it that I don't have to like the things I do, I just have to do them.
Do that for a few decades and yeah. Maybe your heart dies.
Because I think, all respect to Ms. Bujold, but I think Miles was wrong. I think that I am in fact buying my heart's desire with my heart. I spend all day ignoring my desires and doing things I don't want to do so that I can have the life I want - not, like, at some mythical point in the future, but right now - and that doesn't make any sense at all BUT IT'S TRUE. Moment to moment, my life is really annoying. On the occasion I get to take a step back and a deep breath, I love it. How - why - what?
--------------------
As part of the stupid week of stupidity I had fifteen minutes to kill in a bookstore and I accidentally bought a book we already own, because it was that kind of week. Having bought it, though, I went ahead and reread it. The Dispossessed, Ursula K. LeGuin, classic of the genre obviously. Really good book. But, two things I noticed, which I did not notice the previous time I had read it:
1) Though it's not explicitly about gender in the same way as The Left Hand of Darkness, or anything, there's a lot of gender in it. But just like Left Hand and its male pronouns, you can see the bits where LeGuin was explicitly thinking about gender, and you can also see where the patriarchy sneaks in around the corners. If you tell me that in your utopian society sex is totally egalitarian and free of weird fucked up power or ownership themes, but you show me that your sweet sympathetic hero tries to rape a woman the first time he gets drunk and never gives the slightest thought afterwards to how she might be feeling or tries to apologize or wonders about his actions or anything, you have depicted a different society that I think you meant to depict; one much more like our own.
2) Deliberately depicted, though, was the way that gender ties into the book's huge theme that survival depends on cooperation. LeGuin hammers it home that Shevek could not do his work without colleagues, people to bounce ideas off of, people to support him, people even to try to tear him down. He couldn't find them on Anarres so he had to go to Urras. And she also makes it very clear that a female physicist could not have found what Shevek found on Urras. A female physicist could not have developed the ansible because she might have been as bright and as motivated but she would have been stopped by the hard limits of what one person can do all alone.
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I love The Dispossessed; I hadn't noticed the things you noticed, but now I want to read it again and watch more carefully.
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I keep meaning to read The Dispossessed and not doing so. So far.
And parenting is like that, in my experience, too. There I go, doing tedious things sweetly and explaining why that's a good thing, and I'm choosing to do them and at the same time I want to be entirely free of all that tiresomeness. Which I choose. Which is the best way to do parenting that I know. And parenting turns out to be something I find transformationally wonderful. Hateful as it is.
FWIW, something that began happening years before I thought it could is all that love and self-restraint paying off in a really, truly, delightful son who is on of the best friends ever. (And tiresome.)
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Cuz I hafta say, I am still letting my inner hedonist drive this bus a lot of the time, and if I've learned anything from mindfulness, it's that if I can't be happy in the moment, I probably can't be happy period. But I don't have kids.
Re The Dispossessed: my favorite novel, period. And the attempted rape scene has always bothered me, but I kind of wonder if it's meant to play out exactly as you say, on purpose. Because it doesn't happen in utopia, it happens on the decadent capitalist world, and I always felt she was trying to suggest that Shevek had been corrupted by the patriarchal culture there. Which in no way excuses it. Which is the point. Maybe? IDK, maybe I'm making excuses, but that's how I always read it.
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My interpretation of the scene -- of all of Shevek's scenes with Vea -- is that he cannot understand understand her. A good man of Vea's culture would understand that her body language does not mean she wants to have sex with him, but Shevek has no frame of reference for her behavior at all. He misunderstands Vea, not because she is doing anything wrong, but because his upbringing means he can only take her literally. I thought the scene was quite explicit in giving him responsibility for his behavior. Vea's culture may be warped, but Shevek's wrongdoing is his own. Indeed, Shevek's attempted rape of Vea is the catalyst for his realization of how warped Urras is and how it is warping him. This discovery propels the action in the final chapters of the book.
I agree with
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I disagree. I thought it was a remarkably clear portrayal of the everyday situation where a woman is interested in a man, flirting with him, even wanting to have sex with him in the future, and he decides that means he doesn't care that she doesn't want to have sex with him right then and rapes her. Some people would call that asking for it; I don't think the narrative did. I certainly wouldn't.
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OTOH... [redacted because too personal for the Internet]. I will tell you about it when we hang out! Is everybody over their cold? Email me!
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The ugh/yay thing made a lot of sense to me without being a parent but thinking in terms of work things and how difficult it is to make the time to do the things I actually want to do the most. Thank you for this post,
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This has been my experience with essay writing. It is harder to write about things (books, ideas) I love deeply, than it is to write about things I simply find interesting. Because it matters whether or not I do them justice.
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I am making the small daily compromises you talk about, and yeah- moment to moment I want a nap and a drink and some peace and goddamned quiet. But again, I step back and it's all lovely. And the piece I'm having a hard time arguing is how are the small compromises different than being nibbles to death by rabbits, except in my case I think the lack of misery counts for a lot, even if I am resoundingly irritated a lot of the time.
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Two great points Delany makes in his essay on TD (in which he is pretty sniffy about her writing style):
1) Takver is pregnant even during a planet-wide drought and famine, which suggests that either birth control isn't available, or she's choosing to have kids in that harsh an environment (which is never gone into). I don't mean to say people shouldn't have kids in the middle of natural disasters, it's just either she doesn't have a choice, or she's making a choice in an entirely man-made environment with scarce resources to start with, during an ecological and social crisis. Both options have important consequences which just aren't addressed.
and 2) Le Guin assumes flat out that a gay friend of Shevek's won't have kids unless he sort of convinces himself to turn straight. It's presented as a moral turning point comparable to Shevek after Vea: the friend (I don't remember his name....Bep or Bap or something) sees Shevek and his family, thinks "I will never have that unless I change," and the change is obviously meant to refer to his homosexuality. Delany's point was even in the seventies he knew many gay male parents, himself included.
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(I personally think he has just as many biases and blind spots as TD-era Le Guin did, they're just different ones.)
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