When I was writing my last blog post (regarding my theory that Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games is an accurate depiction of a person with PTSD and thus a mentally ill fictional protagonist), I asked some people I knew if they could give me some examples of fictional characters with mental illnesses. (This was, incidentally, why, at the beginning of that entry, I listed the characters I listed.)
One person provided some specific characters, whom I did not list because they are not commonly perceived as being mentally ill and the status of one of them as "mentally ill" is largely speculation based on actions and patterns of thought that aren't much explored in the work said character is from. However, this person also cited obsessive-compulsive disorder as a (canonical or speculated) trait of many fictional detectives "because they're so detail oriented."
The deduction that many fictional detective have OCD because of their eye for detail (which is pretty much a requirement to be a successful detective) sounds at first like a stereotypical generalization, but, like many stereotypical generalizations, it really does appear in fiction. The title character of the television program Monk (a detective drama) has obsessive-compulsive disorder, which is alternately treated as an actual illness, a source of comedy, and a veritable superpower. And if speculations on TV Tropes * (a website dedicated to cataloging patterns of characterization and storytelling that appear in fiction) is to be believed, Hercule Poirot (in some depictions) has it as well. Even the great Sherlock Holmes (in adaptations and in the original canon) displays some leanings towards disorders such as Asperger's Syndrome or ADD (though different adaptations may emphasize certain traits over others, and some adaptations may characterize him as having different disorders, or perhaps as having no disorder at all).
However, mental illnesses are not the only disorders whose fictional representations often "compensate" with incredible powers. How many fantasy tales have blind characters whose lack of sight gives them other abilities, like precognition or mind-reading? How many science fiction stories feature someone who loses a limb only to receive a prosthetic replacement that makes them amazingly stronger? How many fictional wheelchair-users have incredible minds to make up for their lack of mobility?
TV Tropes has another page dedicated to examples of this characterization tool. The article is titled "Disability Superpower"** , and that's a pretty accurate description of what these characters have.
I'm not sure if I wish writers would just give more realistic examples of this trope or if I wish they'd just stop writing it altogether. In some cases, it makes sense. Many real-life people who lack one sense will, as a matter of functioning in life, have to strengthen their other senses, to the point where their abilities may seem superhuman in comparison to those who have all their senses. And, for whatever reason, there does seem to be an actual connection between mental illness and creativity (thus perhaps justifying the existence of all those fictional artists whose ambiguous disorder allows them to become creative geniuses). At least those make sense.
Characters whose "superpower" have nothing to do with their disability are, in my opinion, also acceptable if their skill doesn't negate their disability. Even better if their "superpower" is something a person might realistically be able to do Forrest Gump, for example, is an extremely good runner and athlete, and he's extremely obedient. Both of these things get him very far in life (with his athletic ability getting him into college and garnering him fame as a runner and his obedience serving him well in the military), to the point where they may be equivalent to other characters' superpowers, but they do nothing to affect his lack of mental capacity.
Disabled characters whose "superpower" has nothing to do with their disability (or is only tangentially-related), however, need to be very well-written or otherwise written "differently" than normal for me to feel comfortable with them. The popular webcomic Homestuck has a character (Terezi Pyrope) who, for much of the comic, was "blind", but she had synesthetic powers that compensated for her lack of sight. If it weren't for the fact that I enjoy her personality and like her as a character, I would probably dislike her depiction, as her extrasensory abilities are such so that she may as well not be blind at all. (In fact, Homestuck deals similarly with disability so frequently, I may well end up writing another blog entry about this.)
How, then, should writers go about writing disabled characters "differently" while still giving them "superpowers"? Well, if you're writing a realistic fiction novel, where "superpowers" are really just extremely honed skills that any normal human could have, write them exactly like that - extremely honed skills that any normal human could have. After all, people with disabilities, physical, mental, or otherwise, are normal. They're just different in regards to some of the things they can do or what they have difficulty doing. It's entirely possible to have a blind character with amazing oratory abilities and write them the same way you'd write a sighted character with amazing oratory abilities. The only real difference is that the blind character wouldn't be able to see their audience. (Hey, maybe their blindness could help them in that regard. In which case that would be an example of disability bolstering one's other abilities in an entirely realistic manner. If you wrote a story featuring such a character, you could probably get a fair bit of mileage out of that fact.)
The reason this sort of thing is problematic is because it gives non-disabled readers an unrealistic expectation of what people with disabilities are like, and it gives disabled readers a somewhat insulting picture of their demographic. While seldom explicitly-stated, there are usually troubling undertones to the "disability superpower". Some of these suggestions include the ideas that disabled people are only valuable if they have something to "make up for" their disability (thus devaluing the person themself), disability automatically comes with some kind of power (thus making real disabled people without any "superpowers" feel inferior to fictional characters), and powers like these not only make up for the disability but make it so that it may as well not exist (thus invalidating the difficulties of actual disabled people, whether they have any special skills or not, and providing a very cheap attempt at "representation").
I understand that most writers are not disabled, because most people are not disabled. However, if you are going to write about disabled characters and give them any kind of "powers", that's all well and good, but please write it realistically. Please write it in such a way so that it doesn't trivialize the disability, suggest that people with disabilities are all fabulously gifted, or devalue people with disabilities. People are people, and they're all valuable in some way. Please don't make non-disabled people think that the only disabled people who are valuable are those who have some kind of power that more than compensates for what they lack, and please don't make disabled people think they have to be twice as skilled as their non-disabled counterparts to be seen as half as good.
* The cited page can be found here.
** The cited page can be found here.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Monday, September 23, 2013
In Which I Put Forth that a Certain Bow-Wielding, Revolution-Leading Heroine Is an Example of Mental Illness in Fiction
If I asked you to name some fictional characters with mental illnesses, who would you think of? Doubtless the psychopathic Joker from the Batman comics would come to mind, or perhaps the less obviously deranged but no less sociopathic Hannibal Lecter. Some people might be further able to name Alex from A Clockwork Orange (a mentally unstable violent teenage delinquent), Jim Moriarty from the BBC television show Sherlock (an all-but-outright psychopathic adaptation of the character Professor Moriarty from the original Sherlock Holmes stories) or even Renfield from Dracula (a mental patient whose obsession with blood and consuming life leads him to do things like eating flies).
What do these characters have in common? Well, they certainly fit the common definition of "crazy" (even though many actual mentally ill people do not seem "crazy" by society's standards). And all of them exhibit some kinds of violent tendencies or perverse interests. None of them are really treated sympathetically, and certainly none of them are heroes.
These characters are unfortunately very indicative of how mental illness is treated by writers and the media. The vast most of fictional characters with mental illness are unsympathetic, and those that are sympathetic are either unrealistically-written or have stories or characterizations based around their illness, to the point where it is hard for the audience to imagine the character having any sort of experience that isn't related to mental illness. The outlook for mental illness representation is pretty dim, and many people must wonder when they'll finally get a hero with mental illness whose adventures are not determined by their disability.
Would you like to know the name of a fictional hero with mental illness whose characterization and storyline isn't about mental illness?
Katniss Everdeen.
Yes, I am talking about Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games. I bet you wouldn't have thought Katniss, the Girl on Fire who bravely took her sister's place in the Hunger Games, had any sort of mental illness. "But she's so normal and well-adjusted!" you might say. Yes, well, a number of people with mental illnesses are normal and well-adjusted. "Mental illness" doesn't mean "abnormal" anymore than, say, "blind" or "wheelchair-using" mean "abnormal". (And if you think disability does preclude normality, I urge yourself to educate yourself on the nature of disability as well as normality.)
"Well, this is all very well and good, Jude," you might say when you get past the initial shock, "but please tell us why you are making this absurd statement about Katniss Everdeen's mental capacities." (Unless you know why I'm saying this. In which case, sit back and enjoy the show. And unless you don't want spoilers for The Hunger Games or just don't enjoy talk about that series in general. In which case, you should probably stop reading because those things will ensue.)
I trust most people who've read past this point are familiar with The Hunger Games. (If not, please read a synopsis from elsewhere as I'm providing a commentary, not a summary.) If you are familiar with it, you will know that Katniss's father died in a coal mine accident, which caused a huge personal crisis in her family. An event like that is enough to give someone post-traumatic stress disorder, and growing up somewhere like District 12 is traumatizing in and of itself. Certainly it couldn't have helped Katniss's and her family's recovery. It is very logical to assume that it would have resulted in PTSD, which is classified as a mental illness.
"Now, where are you getting this from?" you may ask me further. "Right, it makes sense that Katniss could have PTSD, but does she even display any symptoms?" Yes. Yes, she does.
Up until and including their time in the arena, Katniss constantly distrusts Peeta (especially in regards to his claims that he's in love with her). She believed it was an attempt at manipulation, when other people might have simply believed him. Well, symptoms/effects of PTSD include emotional numbness and avoidance. Katniss's lack of trust in Peeta could definitely count as the results of such qualities. Furthermore, Katniss has a tendency to get irritated with people, sometimes abruptly and unnecessarily so. Irritability and the tense feelings accompanying are common of PTSD. And after Katniss experiences the Hunger Games themselves and their brutality, her symptoms intensify and branch into recall and sleeping trouble.
A lot of people tend to fault Katniss for the aforementioned things, but what a lot of people don't realize is that she has an actual mental illness - post-traumatic stress disorder - and while her behavior is certainly not ideal, it's the very legitimate result of traumatic events.
"Now, Jude, this is all well and good," you say. "I can see why you think Ms. Everdeen has a mental illness. But why should I believe she was intentionally written as such when it's not even mentioned in the books or films?"
Well, that question's answer is a bit self-evident. Do you think there are any therapists in District 12? Do you think there's anyone specializing in psychology? Do you think Katniss's family would have been able to afford therapy even if there were therapists around. No. Of course not. The folks in District 12 are having a hard enough time managing their physical health and survival. No one is going to have the education to become a psychologist or psychiatrist, and no one is going to have the money to afford that sort of thing. I doubt they'd even care about that in the Capitol. (While the Capitol is very rich, I don't know if they really care enough about the mental health of their citizens to have psychiatry around as a practice, and I doubt the people at the Capitol would be willing enough to admit to having a mental illness for such a practice to even be profitable.)
If Suzanne Collins were to procure a canon diagnosis for Katniss (or Peeta, or Haymitch, or any of the other characters who come to exhibit symptoms of PTSD - because I don't think Katniss is the only one who's been through enough trauma to have it), that would probably break our willing suspension of disbelief and ultimately go too much out of the way of the story to make us blatantly aware of something that's ultimately not that important. Because while mental illness is an important issue (especially in real life!), Katniss's story ultimately wasn't about her struggling with the aftermath of traumatic events like her childhood or the Hunger Games. It was about her fighting for her family and friends and standing up to the government when it got increasingly dangerous to do so. It wasn't about her being mentally ill. It was about her being brave. And that, my friends, is something anyone, regardless of (dis)ability or mental (un)wellness, can do.
"Alright, Jude," you say. "We understand your point of view. We understand why Katniss is a realistic, well-written portrayal of the mental illness of post-traumatic stress disorder. We even understand why her lack of diagnosis is acceptable and relevant. But did Suzanne Collins really mean for you to make this kind of analysis?"
Well, you've got me on that one. I am unaware of anything Collins has said on the subject, and it seems like PTSD was at least slightly intended. It would be an astonishing coincidence if all of the qualities she gave Katniss made her what seems to be a good, researched depiction of mental illness where this sort of thing wasn't even intended. However, unless Suzanne Collins says something about the subject (or if she's already said something and I don't know it), I think it is acceptable and good to interpret Katniss as a trauma survivor with post-traumatic stress disorder and thus a person with a mental illness. And besides, you know what they say - "The interpretation of a work of fiction is ultimately left up to the readers." I've found this theory reiterated on the internet, so I'm definitely not the only reader who interprets Katniss this way. I'm not the only person who's reads The Hunger Games and found not another psychopathic, violent madman but instead a wonderful heroine whose mental illness is not only not dehumanizing but in fact a sign of strength - she can survive horrible things, even after her mind has been permanently affected by her circumstances - and (wonder of wonders!) doesn't hijack the story but adds to it, giving her another set of challenges as she bravely fights for what's right.
What do these characters have in common? Well, they certainly fit the common definition of "crazy" (even though many actual mentally ill people do not seem "crazy" by society's standards). And all of them exhibit some kinds of violent tendencies or perverse interests. None of them are really treated sympathetically, and certainly none of them are heroes.
These characters are unfortunately very indicative of how mental illness is treated by writers and the media. The vast most of fictional characters with mental illness are unsympathetic, and those that are sympathetic are either unrealistically-written or have stories or characterizations based around their illness, to the point where it is hard for the audience to imagine the character having any sort of experience that isn't related to mental illness. The outlook for mental illness representation is pretty dim, and many people must wonder when they'll finally get a hero with mental illness whose adventures are not determined by their disability.
Would you like to know the name of a fictional hero with mental illness whose characterization and storyline isn't about mental illness?
Katniss Everdeen.
Yes, I am talking about Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games. I bet you wouldn't have thought Katniss, the Girl on Fire who bravely took her sister's place in the Hunger Games, had any sort of mental illness. "But she's so normal and well-adjusted!" you might say. Yes, well, a number of people with mental illnesses are normal and well-adjusted. "Mental illness" doesn't mean "abnormal" anymore than, say, "blind" or "wheelchair-using" mean "abnormal". (And if you think disability does preclude normality, I urge yourself to educate yourself on the nature of disability as well as normality.)
"Well, this is all very well and good, Jude," you might say when you get past the initial shock, "but please tell us why you are making this absurd statement about Katniss Everdeen's mental capacities." (Unless you know why I'm saying this. In which case, sit back and enjoy the show. And unless you don't want spoilers for The Hunger Games or just don't enjoy talk about that series in general. In which case, you should probably stop reading because those things will ensue.)
I trust most people who've read past this point are familiar with The Hunger Games. (If not, please read a synopsis from elsewhere as I'm providing a commentary, not a summary.) If you are familiar with it, you will know that Katniss's father died in a coal mine accident, which caused a huge personal crisis in her family. An event like that is enough to give someone post-traumatic stress disorder, and growing up somewhere like District 12 is traumatizing in and of itself. Certainly it couldn't have helped Katniss's and her family's recovery. It is very logical to assume that it would have resulted in PTSD, which is classified as a mental illness.
"Now, where are you getting this from?" you may ask me further. "Right, it makes sense that Katniss could have PTSD, but does she even display any symptoms?" Yes. Yes, she does.
Up until and including their time in the arena, Katniss constantly distrusts Peeta (especially in regards to his claims that he's in love with her). She believed it was an attempt at manipulation, when other people might have simply believed him. Well, symptoms/effects of PTSD include emotional numbness and avoidance. Katniss's lack of trust in Peeta could definitely count as the results of such qualities. Furthermore, Katniss has a tendency to get irritated with people, sometimes abruptly and unnecessarily so. Irritability and the tense feelings accompanying are common of PTSD. And after Katniss experiences the Hunger Games themselves and their brutality, her symptoms intensify and branch into recall and sleeping trouble.
A lot of people tend to fault Katniss for the aforementioned things, but what a lot of people don't realize is that she has an actual mental illness - post-traumatic stress disorder - and while her behavior is certainly not ideal, it's the very legitimate result of traumatic events.
"Now, Jude, this is all well and good," you say. "I can see why you think Ms. Everdeen has a mental illness. But why should I believe she was intentionally written as such when it's not even mentioned in the books or films?"
Well, that question's answer is a bit self-evident. Do you think there are any therapists in District 12? Do you think there's anyone specializing in psychology? Do you think Katniss's family would have been able to afford therapy even if there were therapists around. No. Of course not. The folks in District 12 are having a hard enough time managing their physical health and survival. No one is going to have the education to become a psychologist or psychiatrist, and no one is going to have the money to afford that sort of thing. I doubt they'd even care about that in the Capitol. (While the Capitol is very rich, I don't know if they really care enough about the mental health of their citizens to have psychiatry around as a practice, and I doubt the people at the Capitol would be willing enough to admit to having a mental illness for such a practice to even be profitable.)
If Suzanne Collins were to procure a canon diagnosis for Katniss (or Peeta, or Haymitch, or any of the other characters who come to exhibit symptoms of PTSD - because I don't think Katniss is the only one who's been through enough trauma to have it), that would probably break our willing suspension of disbelief and ultimately go too much out of the way of the story to make us blatantly aware of something that's ultimately not that important. Because while mental illness is an important issue (especially in real life!), Katniss's story ultimately wasn't about her struggling with the aftermath of traumatic events like her childhood or the Hunger Games. It was about her fighting for her family and friends and standing up to the government when it got increasingly dangerous to do so. It wasn't about her being mentally ill. It was about her being brave. And that, my friends, is something anyone, regardless of (dis)ability or mental (un)wellness, can do.
"Alright, Jude," you say. "We understand your point of view. We understand why Katniss is a realistic, well-written portrayal of the mental illness of post-traumatic stress disorder. We even understand why her lack of diagnosis is acceptable and relevant. But did Suzanne Collins really mean for you to make this kind of analysis?"
Well, you've got me on that one. I am unaware of anything Collins has said on the subject, and it seems like PTSD was at least slightly intended. It would be an astonishing coincidence if all of the qualities she gave Katniss made her what seems to be a good, researched depiction of mental illness where this sort of thing wasn't even intended. However, unless Suzanne Collins says something about the subject (or if she's already said something and I don't know it), I think it is acceptable and good to interpret Katniss as a trauma survivor with post-traumatic stress disorder and thus a person with a mental illness. And besides, you know what they say - "The interpretation of a work of fiction is ultimately left up to the readers." I've found this theory reiterated on the internet, so I'm definitely not the only reader who interprets Katniss this way. I'm not the only person who's reads The Hunger Games and found not another psychopathic, violent madman but instead a wonderful heroine whose mental illness is not only not dehumanizing but in fact a sign of strength - she can survive horrible things, even after her mind has been permanently affected by her circumstances - and (wonder of wonders!) doesn't hijack the story but adds to it, giving her another set of challenges as she bravely fights for what's right.
Friday, September 20, 2013
A ukulele interlude
And now for something completely different.
Some of you may or may not know that I have the special talent of ukulele-playing. I figured I'd put up a recording of me playing a ukulele. (It's not actually my ukulele that I'm playing here; it's my sister's, but she doesn't play it, and since it's literally just lying about the house, I decided I'd try to figure out how to play it.) I specifically figured I'd play the song "Make Me Moo", which is by a very interesting band called the Residents. Look them up if you're unfamiliar with them. This is not the oddest thing they've written.
Anyhow, here's the song.
Some of you may or may not know that I have the special talent of ukulele-playing. I figured I'd put up a recording of me playing a ukulele. (It's not actually my ukulele that I'm playing here; it's my sister's, but she doesn't play it, and since it's literally just lying about the house, I decided I'd try to figure out how to play it.) I specifically figured I'd play the song "Make Me Moo", which is by a very interesting band called the Residents. Look them up if you're unfamiliar with them. This is not the oddest thing they've written.
Anyhow, here's the song.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Why Electronic Publications Are Actually a Pretty Great Thing
Hello. First off, I have the pleasant and exciting news of a publication in Emerge Literary Journal (to which the link will take you). I have been waiting for this since perhaps the month of May but probably sooner. I am very excited about this new publication, something my dry speech is not letting on but something that is very much the case.
Second off, I'd like to recount an interesting conversation I had with my grandpa today.
We were talking about books and publishing, and he (bless him) has a sort-of aversion to technology, and he was telling me about how e-books and the like are going to run print publishers out of business. The implication of "evil newfangled technology" was present in how he said it.
I had to correct him on that matter, citing Stephen Frye's thoughts of, "Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators." As long as there are people who like to read and truly value the art that goes into creating a physical book (for while there's nothing wrong with e-books, certainly, there's also nothing wrong with the beauty of a physical collection of words), there will be a group of people who want physical books, and there will be a supply to meet this demand.
And furthermore, I told him, there is a particular benefit to e-books and online literary publications that print books (bless them) just don't have.
Namely, electronic writing is much easier to distribute to large numbers of people.
When a book is available to buy and download online, anyone with internet access and sufficient funds can purchase it and get it usually instantly. This is probably a larger demographic than people who have the ability to find books at bookstore (or maybe order the physical things from the internet) and sufficient funds. (Also, I'd like to point out that print books, for perfectly reasonable reasons, are often much more expensive than e-books. So there is that as well.) But basically, it's oftentimes just easier for one to get an e-book than a print book, and if your goal is wider readership (as opposed to creating a nice object or looking "prestigious"), then there can be no harm in having your works published in electronic format.
And as for online literary publications (which have so far been the majority of the publications in which my works have appeared), they seldom cost anything at all to read, so they are usually available to literally anyone who has internet access. This is especially important when one remembers that print literary magazines are, unfortunately, not as widespread or well-known a phenomenon as books (print or electronic). Electronic publications have the advantage of being more easily-stumbled-upon during casual searches of the internet, whereas I imagine it's unlikely that one would find a print equivalent while not particularly doing anything at home or in a coffee shop or wherever one uses the internet. And while I admittedly don't know what editors for literary magazines (online and print) or Legitimate Publishing People do, it's safe to assume they Google-search the writers whose work they've been sent, and having something out there on an online publication will not only prove that you're good enough to get published somewhere, it'll give them a sense of what your work is like, a very good thing to give them.
The most important thing about online publication, however - and this is my personal view, though I'm sure it's shared by many others - is that it allows your work to be seen by numerous people. Not just numerous people; potentially lots. Ideally, a writer - and indeed an artist of any kind - wants an audience. A writer wants a wide audience. A writer, truly believing in their craft and truly believing it will affect people for the better, will want it to be read by the world; the world will almost certainly benefit from it, too. Having work published online will not guarantee worldwide readership, but it will certainly make it a possibility, something that print publication, while still wonderful and beautiful, couldn't even dream of.
"So," I concluded to my grandpa, "e-books and stuff aren't really going to run print publishers out of business, and electronic literary publications are actually a pretty great thing."
"Oh," he said. "I didn't know that. Thanks for telling me."
Second off, I'd like to recount an interesting conversation I had with my grandpa today.
We were talking about books and publishing, and he (bless him) has a sort-of aversion to technology, and he was telling me about how e-books and the like are going to run print publishers out of business. The implication of "evil newfangled technology" was present in how he said it.
I had to correct him on that matter, citing Stephen Frye's thoughts of, "Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators." As long as there are people who like to read and truly value the art that goes into creating a physical book (for while there's nothing wrong with e-books, certainly, there's also nothing wrong with the beauty of a physical collection of words), there will be a group of people who want physical books, and there will be a supply to meet this demand.
And furthermore, I told him, there is a particular benefit to e-books and online literary publications that print books (bless them) just don't have.
Namely, electronic writing is much easier to distribute to large numbers of people.
When a book is available to buy and download online, anyone with internet access and sufficient funds can purchase it and get it usually instantly. This is probably a larger demographic than people who have the ability to find books at bookstore (or maybe order the physical things from the internet) and sufficient funds. (Also, I'd like to point out that print books, for perfectly reasonable reasons, are often much more expensive than e-books. So there is that as well.) But basically, it's oftentimes just easier for one to get an e-book than a print book, and if your goal is wider readership (as opposed to creating a nice object or looking "prestigious"), then there can be no harm in having your works published in electronic format.
And as for online literary publications (which have so far been the majority of the publications in which my works have appeared), they seldom cost anything at all to read, so they are usually available to literally anyone who has internet access. This is especially important when one remembers that print literary magazines are, unfortunately, not as widespread or well-known a phenomenon as books (print or electronic). Electronic publications have the advantage of being more easily-stumbled-upon during casual searches of the internet, whereas I imagine it's unlikely that one would find a print equivalent while not particularly doing anything at home or in a coffee shop or wherever one uses the internet. And while I admittedly don't know what editors for literary magazines (online and print) or Legitimate Publishing People do, it's safe to assume they Google-search the writers whose work they've been sent, and having something out there on an online publication will not only prove that you're good enough to get published somewhere, it'll give them a sense of what your work is like, a very good thing to give them.
The most important thing about online publication, however - and this is my personal view, though I'm sure it's shared by many others - is that it allows your work to be seen by numerous people. Not just numerous people; potentially lots. Ideally, a writer - and indeed an artist of any kind - wants an audience. A writer wants a wide audience. A writer, truly believing in their craft and truly believing it will affect people for the better, will want it to be read by the world; the world will almost certainly benefit from it, too. Having work published online will not guarantee worldwide readership, but it will certainly make it a possibility, something that print publication, while still wonderful and beautiful, couldn't even dream of.
"So," I concluded to my grandpa, "e-books and stuff aren't really going to run print publishers out of business, and electronic literary publications are actually a pretty great thing."
"Oh," he said. "I didn't know that. Thanks for telling me."
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
The Many Ways to Like a Thing
I'm back in school. In fact, I've been back for a while (i.e. a few weeks). For those who didn't previously know, I'm a college student, and class is once again in session.
I was talking to my grandfather about my classes (because I spend a lot of time with my grandparents, and they take a great interest in everything I do - they've been listening to me ramble about my upcoming NaNoWriMo novel, which I may or may not blog about in the future).
"Do you like your classes?" he asked me.
I had to consider the question. The subjects were English, history, and math - fairly pedantic, at least by my standards. (I took astronomy and psychology in my first and second semesters of college, respectively, and this semester is my third.) I didn't dislike the classes, if that was what he meant. I was going to say something to that effect before it occurred to me that there's more than one way to live something, and there's more than one thing to like about a situation like a class. You might not like the subject matter, but you might like the teacher, or the way things are taught, or the specific parts of the otherwise-dull subject that are taught, or that you're going over things you already knew but in a different way, or that a once-confusing subject is finally, finally making sense.
"You know, I do like them," I said. "I like my English class because I understand the stuff we're talking about and there's a lot I can add to the discussions, I like my history class because we're basically going over stuff I studied for fun as a kid but we're revisiting it and learning it in different ways, and I like my math class because math is finally making sense and I'm not dreading it." (I am horribly mathematically-challenged.)
"Good." He smiled. "That's good."
It was good. It was good that I was enjoying my classes, and it was good that I identified the way that I liked them, and it was good that I'd realized that there are many ways to like a thing. I think that, if people understood that, they would broaden their spheres of what they "liked", and we'd just be slightly happier in general.
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