posted
…because neither my posting style nor count lends itself to composing a landmark post. But a confluence of events this week has led me to some reflections which may (or, I freely admit, may not) be interesting for some of the Hatrackers who know me (and, hopefully, some who don’t).
Event #1
“O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, How can we know the dancer from the dance?”
—W. B. Yeats, “Among School Children”
I turn thirty this week.
I still can’t decide how I feel about this. I’ve been dreading it for two or three years now, not because I think thirty is some sort of decrepitude demarcation line but because I really, really didn’t want to end my twenties with nothing to show for it. The problem, I’ve realized over the past few months, is how I define having something to show for “it.” I’ve never had trouble doing things well that I was good at but didn’t consider to be defining characteristics: school, work, languages, travel, mowing the lawn, playing Civ II, etc. However, for the really big things—writing chief among them—the things by which I define myself, I’ve always had a “do it well or don’t do it at all” attitude…which, by itself, is fine. But “do it well,” to me, means essentially “create a work of fiction of such genius that all will fall down and worship you.”
For goodness’ sake, the two busts I have flanking my writing area are of Dante (which I picked up in Florence) and Shakespeare (bought in Stratford); I’m an unwilling, living protest against Eliot’s famous quote about there being no third. So, when I’ve been worrying about “not having anything to show” for my 20s, I was really thinking, “How can I live with myself if I hit thirty without having created a work (or works) of literature comparable to those of the greatest writers of all time?”
(Please notice, incidentally, that I’m not a megalomaniac. I haven’t felt the need to be better than Dante or Shakespeare or Ovid or Petrarch or Hardy or Eliot. Yet.)
But as thirty hurtles down the barrel toward me, I think I’m okay. The title of my close friend’s poetry collection Choosing Enough crosses my mind often. I’ve finally conditioned myself to write because I enjoy it—or at least because I enjoy it often. I write well. I compose finely crafted, weighty, and often lyrical poems. I write good, fast-paced, immediate short stories. I create interesting, thoughtful, entertaining, substantive prose. And that’s good enough because I choose it to be good enough.
It’s a philosophy that I’m attempting to apply to the rest of my life now. Sure, there are things I would like to have but don’t—marriage, family, Ph.D., steady job, and so on ad-nearly-freakin’-infinitum. I still hope to have them, but I don’t now, and that’s all right. I choose what I have now to be enough—both good and bad. Sufficient is the day to the live thereof.
Posts: 1068 | Registered: Aug 2000
| IP: Logged |
“How is saying ‘I love you’ in the mirror stranger than kicking your own ass?”
—Kevin Klein, “On Being Taught Self-Love”
I finished my first novel last week.
Okay, okay, technically I only finished a first draft—but it’s a full first draft. However you want to quantify these kinds of things, it’s a pretty big deal: 155,000 words, 31 chapters, scores of fun-sounding names, hundreds of dollars spent on Dr. Pepper and Tylenol, several weeks of sore wrists, frequent writing snatches of 20 or 30 minutes between jobs, innumerable late nights staring at a computer screen until the words all started to run together and make absolutely no sense and I had to tell myself over and over that it was all worth it.
And you know what? It was. I mean, I hope there will be more involved in the whole process—my M.A., subsequent publication, a vast and appreciative readership, a steady writing career. But even if none of those happens, it has been worth it. I set out to write a novel about something that would interest me, both narratively and philosophically, and I determined to focus on enjoying the story-telling rather than worry about literary merit—modest goals, both, but I achieved them, and I choose to be content with that.
Posts: 1068 | Registered: Aug 2000
| IP: Logged |
“A lot of people think or believe or know they feel—but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling—not knowing or believing or thinking. Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.” —e.e. cummings
I’m going to Europe on Monday.
Ever since my mission, I’ve tried to get back at least every few years, but this will be my first trip since 2000. It’s not a long trip—a week in Italy, a half-week in Germany, a few days in London—but it is going to feel really good just to get away from home and back to my other home for a little while. I’ll be there with my girlfriend and her cousin: I’ll be playing tour guide, and he’ll be playing chaperone. I’m not sure what she’ll be playing. Me, possibly. But in any event, I’m gonna have fun, dammit! I’m going to enjoy myself and the time I’ll have to be nobody-but-myself.
Maybe you can, too, wherever you are this weekend. That would be a nice birthday present, don’t you think?
posted
Congrats, Dante! Would love to see you when you're in London - let me know. You have my e-mail address.
Posts: 1550 | Registered: Jun 1999
| IP: Logged |
posted
Dante: You need to e-mail me so I can have your address and e-mail you. My address is in my profile.
Posts: 3423 | Registered: Aug 2001
| IP: Logged |
posted
Happy Birthday, Dante! Best of luck with all your endeavors. I know you can do whatever you want to do and I know that you will be whomever you want to be in this life. The hard part is finding out who that is.
Nobody should ever dread to turn thirty. There is so much to learn after you're thirty. I would not for the world go back to those younger ages, in which one knows so little about who one is and what one really wants. May the thirties be a time of flowering of joy for you, and filled with happiness.
Posts: 2843 | Registered: A Long Time Ago!
| IP: Logged |
Printer-friendly view of this topic
![[Smile]](smile.gif)
![[Wink]](wink.gif)
![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
