I stumbled upon this short post entitled “Will There Be Candy?” by Jim Power. This story painfully illustrates how unintentionally self-absorbed we can all be sometimes. Since it is short, I’ll post Mr. Power’s story below.

I am no expert on German literature, and “The Metamorphosis” is not exactly beach reading, but I listened closely yesterday when a grade 11 student stopped by to talk about a paper he had written on Kafka’s method of narration. This earnest scholar continually stressed that “point of view determines just about everything.”

I thought about his insight this morning during a primary grades assembly. A middle-aged couple spoke to the young boys about a triathlon fundraiser they were planning to benefit Sick Kids Hospital. They mentioned, almost in passing, that they were motivated to do this because their daughter had been diagnosed with leukemia at the age of 2.

Instantly, a hand shot into the air. “What happened to your daughter?”

The mom bit her lip and responded. “She’s no longer with us.”

Other hands shot up. “Where will I put my towel for the triathlon? And will there be candy there?”

I get it. Most of us are a bit self-absorbed, and there is a developmental piece, especially with young boys, that sometimes knocks the wind out of your sails. (Walker Percy used to refer to this as “the great suck of self.”) But to listen to a mother talk about losing her daughter, and then within a heart beat, to hear questions about towels and candy…

The mother handled herself with incredible poise. And the young boys seemed genuinely interested in helping with this great cause. But in the back of my mind, something about Kafka made me think that I was the one who had turned into a bug.

Tags: Kafka, selfishness

I believe that the biggest sociological development of the late 20th century was not “the pill” or Vietnam, rather it was the creation of the suburb. After WWII, everything we know about 20th century culture stems from this primum movens. Suburbs placed the alienated man into pleasant wasteland. It is no secret that Percy understood this, and therefore Binx lived in Gentilly, a middle-class suburb of New Orleans, in The Moviegoer.

I am no sociologist, and certainly have not attempted to carefully study the subject, but I suspect that the creation of television allowed the suburbs to grow out like weeds across the American landscape. Before television, people needed to take advantage of common community anchors to feel connected. This could include church, the Rotary club, the corner diner, even the local theater. After Ed Sullivan, we could sit alone–in our isolated homes separated by well-manicured lawns–and achieve a pseudo-connection that approached the communal spirit once achieved through actual human interaction. We knew what others would be talking about tomorrow. What is more, it was a common experience shared by millions coast-to-coast; a community no longer bound by the confines of provincial word-of-mouth.

Without television, do you think that most Americans would be satisfied driving their long commutes to and from work if they knew the only entertainment waiting for them at home was the local newspaper, a good book or listening to the radio? I suspect that the yearning to feel connected would drive them back to the city where options abound.

Certainly rural America existed long before the suburbs, but farm communities possess a unique sense of place. Farm towns and other remote small towns exist for a purpose, and the community is tied together through the execution of that purpose (farming, fishing, a factory, etc.).

I believe that television was the single greatest game-changer of the modern era. It amplified and influenced every societal and cultural change that followed. Today’s fascination with online social media is just a branch off this tree planted in the 1950s.

Tags: alienated, community, television

I just finished watching the George Clooney movie Up in the Air. It is the story of an isolated man who flies around the country firing people for a living. Both the writing and acting were good quality.

The dialog was insightful, but I think the overall theme is what made it interesting. While the movie obviously reflects on whether living in self-banishment can be fulfilling, I think the story is really a study in selfishness. We are shown selfish companies cutting their employees lose; selfish bosses who don’t have the heart to terminate their own staff; the selfish embrace of technology to dehumanize; a selfish man who lives in isolated luxury; a selfish woman who wants to live in two worlds; a young couple struggling with the idea of “till death due us part.” What’s surprising is this movie was normal. There was nothing shocking about the people or circumstances depicted. We all know, or are, these people. Just like with Percy’s novels, all this movie did was strip away the layers to hint at what is really going on.

This makes me wonder if our present-day consumer-obsessed culture of “me” is really the culmination of Western thought. Is our society going through a selfish phase, or is it hurtling along an immutable trajectory? God help us.

Tags: modernity, selfishness, Up in the Air

I’m curious how Percy would respond to our current societal fascination with Facebook, Twitter and blogging in general. I suspect his reaction would be complex. This is a man who feared the demise of modern man, yet spent hours watching soap operas. Perhaps he enjoyed watching the train wreck.

I think our ability to broadcast our personal thoughts and life events has shrunk the world. It no longer matters if my friends are half the world away; we exchange life’s little moments in a way that reminds us that we are not alone. Yes, it is frivolous and pedestrian, but it is better than loneliness. Besides, most daily interactions rarely rise beyond this level.

Admittedly, it does seem like a poor substitute for actual face to face interaction, but it is better than allowing oneself to slip away altogether.

Tags: modernity, technology, writing

I’ve often heard that the South was full of ghosts. I suppose the idea that long-forgotten Civil War dead are roaming the countryside animated by nothing but resentment and anger is too good to resist. I was born in the South and live here now. While I have never given any thought to long-lost soldiers wandering the hills and valleys, I do know that the South is haunted.

It is haunted by memory. Not always significant memories–like recollections of battles won and lost–it is haunted by a perfect recall of everyday hurts, jealousies and frustrations. Nothing is forgotten here and everything is personal.

When I first settled in my small Southern town, one of the questions put to me was, “What’s your name?” This is a simple enough question, but they didn’t want to know my name–only. When my answer didn’t provide the data hoped for, the questioner got to the point: “Who are your people?” You see, they needed to place me the social hierarchy and flip through their Rolodex of past wrongs to see if their grandfather had been mistreated by my grandfather or if some other long-ago slight should push us apart. I’m not making this up. This questions is put to me regularly–typically by gray-haired men and women who pride themselves on their pride.

For years I’ve read about Southern honor and pride, but I always thought that was over-romanticized sentimentality. I now know I didn’t recognize it because in daily life it is not displayed as noble or high-minded piety; rather it is petty, common and exercised by both those in high standing and the lowest of the low. I did not recognize it because it is everywhere.

I now know that there is something special about the South. The land may not be haunted, but the everyday memories of its many residents are.

Tags: The South

I recently read an article entitled “Death by Suicide: The End of English Departments and Literacy” by Mary Garbar. Garbar bemoans the rise of graphic novels as subjects of “serious” academic study. She believes that this academic decay began with deconstructionism and was reinforced by gender-specific studies.

Actually the gender studies theorists were the ones to put the final stake through writing, while viciously accusing it of “phallologocentrism.” They accused writing itself of following the trajectory of male sexual response in its “linear” goal-seeking of meaning. Grammar, logic, and universal meaning promoted the male, imperialist goal of subjugation. Writing, like male sexuality, was inherently rapacious.

As alternative, Elaine Showalter took her cue from Luce Irigaray’s notion of “labial thinking,” and advanced “uterine withdrawal and containment.” “Women,” Helene Cixous insisted, “must write through their bodies, they must invent the impregnable language that will wreck partitions, classes, and rhetorics, regulations and codes….”

I’m quite certain that if Percy were teaching today he would be chased out of most English department staff meetings. I wish he could have lived long enough to draft a follow-up to Lost in the Cosmos that addressed the unraveling of English as an intellectual discipline.

Tags: gender studies

Affirming the proposition that people are good depends on your field of view. Universally, we believe it is true. Nationally or regionally, we hope it is true. Locally, we try to convince ourselves that it’s true. Individually, we meet winners and losers everyday.

I’ve been considering the proper Christian perspective to this question. I can’t seem to make up my mind. I suppose this begs for a definition of “good,” but I’ll leave that philosophical dialectic aside. Still, I wonder, should I give people the benefit of the doubt? Should I assume that an unknown or untested person is most likely good?

We are called to love our neighbor, but since we’re neighbors, chances are good that we know them and, good or bad, we are called to love them anyway. Should our default position be loving, or does that happen after we understand what it takes to love them?

Practically, I think we answer this question based on how we judge our society. If we believe that our society is producing well-meaning men and women who endeavor to live out their lives in a productive and peaceful way, then yes, I would give a person new to me the benefit of the doubt. If, however, we believe that our society is shaking on its foundation ready to collapse from rampant selfishness and an utter lack of nobility, then no, I will be watchful and wary of those I meet. Putting it in a literary context: in a world of Jane Austin’s making–man is striving to be good; in Cormac McCarthy’s world–watch out.

I think anyone who has spent considerable time with the public at large will have a particularly hard time answering this question. When you come in contact with the full prism of humanity you either come away with a loving sense of wonder at the complexity of life, or you become bitter, scared and frustrated. I’ve personally experienced both, but lately more of the later.

Every society is made up of a mass of individuals–some good and some bad. Collectively, a society pushes in either a generally beneficial or a generally harmful direction. I pray that those standing beside me are striving to support the good, the true and the beautiful. Anything less will tip our collective scale toward darkness.

Tags: goodness

I’m working my way through this paper published back in 2006 by William Powers, a national media critic.  There is a book with the same title, which will be published in July.  The following is a quote from the publisher:

“At a time when everyone, from big businesses to ordinary individuals, is trying to make sense of their connected lives, ‘Hamlet’s Blackberry’ presents a bold new paradigm for understanding the devices that now demand so much of our time and attention. Written in a lively, engaging style, ‘Hamlet’s BlackBerry’ shows how our computers and mobile devices are changing the way we think, feel, and relate to others. While these technologies are tremendously helpful, they are also becoming our greatest burden, making it harder for us to focus and think clearly, do our best work and achieve the depth and fulfillment we crave.”

I can’t help but think that Percy would be interested in this topic.

For more information on the book, click here.

Tags: digital age