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part 2, An Unidentified Sail on the Horizon

This blog doesn't just assign old-fashioned homework. In addition to the essay by William James, mentioned last time, today's assignment is to watch the Coen Brothers' movie, "Barton Fink." The role of "the life of the mind" in its memorable climax fits in well today.
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Long-suffering readers know that I encourage 'living' a book rather than just reading it, in order to turn a stultifying process into a more vivifying one. You must pretend, even if only temporarily, to have some sympathy with this approach if the rest of this post is to mean anything to you.

The first time I read Patrick O'Brian's "Master and Commander" novels, several years ago, I was in Yuma, bicycling with the superb road-cycling club here. Back then I saw no connection between sailing the high seas in a British man-of-war, during the Napoleonic era, and the sport of cycling. This time around I have seen a connection, and it has vivified both reading and cycling.

One day I was riding alone, but in the mirror I could just barely see the neon-colored windbreaker of another cyclist. How they fill up with air, inside! But who was it? They were too far back to tell. Were they trying to 'take me a prize', in "Master and Commander" lingo? One minute they would go over a small convexity -- you wouldn't call it a hill -- and thus come back into view; and then they'd quickly disappear into a subtle concavity. These undulations of road over sandy desert, mirages from the Yuma sun, and the poor optical quality of the mirror, kept the suspense going for a couple minutes. More than that, everyday I now find another analogy between cycling the windy lettuce fields of Yuma and reading "Master and Commander."

By now, the reader can guess, I was fluttering my eyelashes over the experience, in part because of what it shared with other outdoor experiences. There is nothing more lethally glamorous than a barely identifiable animal scudding along on a distant ridgeline.




Sweat and metaphors -- imaginative effort during strenuous physical activity -- that is the ultimate outdoor lifestyle. What prevents it? Do we feel silly taking our "play" seriously? After all, that is what children used to do, back in the days before television and video games. It is what dogs still do at the bark park. But we responsible, middle-class adults are so tied up with our busyness and conventionality that we can't take play seriously.

We still share something with that conventional old crone back at Starbucks, last post. Maybe my inability to become totally independent of what she represents is the reason why she irked me.

Comments

XXXXX said…
Boonie, you relayed nothing of substance about the lady at Starbucks other than your own projections and prejudice. As you said, the other men at the table did not have the same experience you did. As far as I can see, she was simply being social. Actually, demonstrating the very behavior that you have accused as absent in Starbucks.
Don't say "we" at the beginning of the last paragraph. Own your own projections. You don't have my company with it. And let me also mention that you clearly state that the "ad hominem approach" will not be allowed on your blog........apparently that just means comments regarding you but that you are allowed to engage in such behavior with people who are not here to defend themselves.
Now, I admit, this has an edge and it's hard to hide. Your saving grace in my eyes is your last sentence.
Now, let me go back and reiterate the importance of PROCESS in the development of a virtue. If you go back to Franklin's list, surely you can see the lack of attainment on your part of several of his listed virtues. I will not enumerate but want to stay with my greater point. Again, I acknowledge the importance of your insight, that it is your inability to be independent of something or other, whatever it is that you have projected onto her.
I'm also wearing thin on your assumption that others lack imagination and somehow do not sufficiently enjoy their endeavors and somehow you are capable of teaching them (us). Bit presumptuous, I believe. I appreciate your love of strenuous physical activity but believe me, that is a detail in the long term. It may be a good method but it is just your personal method and there are many roads to nirvana. If you truly are growing to be a better person (as your interest in the virtues of Franklin might suggest), somewhere along the line you have to begin to embrace the fact that others are different from you but that their path is equally valuable and their wisdom as great, in fact, perhaps, even greater.
Thank you, George, for putting into words what I was feeling about the last post.
edlfrey said…
...today's assignment is to watch the Coen Brothers' movie, "Barton Fink."

I'll have to take a failing grade, or an incomplete, on this assignment. I do not watch movies.
I must confess that I also 'played' games in my mind while out riding my bicycle as an adult. Perhaps when I was riding I no longer was an adult but regressed to the inner child that had to be hidden in conventional society. After my ex-wife and I completed a trip I heard her telling her friends that while we were on the trip I behaved like a "little boy" - one of the kindest things that she ever said of me.

It appears that you may have made a serious mistake when you assigned the chapter on "Moral Perfection" in Benjamin Franklin's Autobiography. I think you have hoist yourself on the petard of your own virtue be doing so even though you never laid claim to have the virtues that Franklin sought.
Yes, I'll bet many cyclists have to play mental tricks on bicycle tours.

Am not sure George or Jeanne caught the irony in my use of the politically-incorrect word, crone. Perhaps I should use an emoticon when something is to be interpreted ironically. The crone and I were mirror images of the "blindness" in James's essay. (Does this prove that they didn't do their homework?)
XXXXX said…
Your comment about the crone and you being mirror image may or may not be true. You would have done better to explain it out rather than assigning some 30 page momentous task of which there appears to be little interest in reading. You can count me out of any further assignments as I dislike the wiggle room you have left for yourself in the middle. You can explain away anything with that much wiggle room. Or should I call it backpeddling?
If you want to make a confession of sorts of your own blindness in the situation, then just be out with it, man, and quit hiding behind the bushes.
Enjoy your class of 1.
Little interest in reading that essay by James? Well, the non-reader has missed a great opportunity and intellectual pleasure. There aren't many things written that you can say that about.
XXXXX said…
Yes, James is very intellectual. However, your experience in Starbucks was not an intellectual experience. It was an emotional one. You can't fix an emotional response with an intellectual one. So I frankly don't think James does you any good.
You have a wonderful imagination. That is true. And I know that this is what you are trying to share with your readers. I appreciate that for I believe I have as equally a good imagination as you and it has been a blessing in my life. Someone's very active imagination has preceded every great invention in mankind. So it is something to be valued, for sure.
What would happen if, upon recognition that your experience with the lady in Starbucks was one of seeing her negatively (i.e. a crone, etc.) you used your imagination to transform the experience? It is possible you know. Just as you can transform a physical experience of cycling into a "Master and Commander" adventure, so can you transform your experience in Starbucks.
So if this makes any sense to you, I have a reading recommendation for you to consider. It is called "Inner Work" by Robert A. Johnson, a Jungian analyst and author. One of my favorites. There is a section on "active imagination" which might be interesting to you. Also one on dreams which you may just want to blow off. I'm not sure. Anyway, just a thought.
George, I checked for the book in my local library. No luck, but maybe they still offer inter-library loans.