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7 February 2002 (Thursday): inferiority complexes

As Paul Kerschen writes, "Vladimir Nabokov has no right at all to manipulate the English language the way he does." The turns of phrase on every page of Pale Fire make me pause every other sentence, savoring the color of each syllable. The book is also way, way over my head. This is one of those works of art I was referring to in the "beyond the veil" entry. I am not nearly well educated enough to fully appreciate this book.

Joey, on the other hand, read it as a junior in high school and covered her copy in margin-scribbles of insight. Snagged her first boyfriend with it, too, bonding on a summer-camp school bus over Canto IV, with an impassioned discussion of Thoreau and the transcendentalist movement thrown in for good measure. Damn her.

She's a funny one, Joey. We've always had a semi-twisted sort of mutual admiration for one another. Her intellectual prowess leaves me blinking the dust out of my eyes -- she's equally at home with astrophysics, macroeconomics and 19th-century literature -- and I can never keep track of her, since she's always off on some new adventure when she happens to send an email my way. Hello, she'll write, I'm in New Orleans writing for the Times-Picayune. I'm learning Cajun dancing. How are you? Last I heard she had quit her job in New York to study for a semester in Paris. But it's restlessness, not a devil-may-care confidence, that propels her to these far-flung destinations. And she worries over whether she'll ever grow up and figure out what she wants, long enough to stay in one place and work at it. So she envies me in a way, for my relatively quiet and stable life, my feet always on the ground, my choices always premeditated and carefully researched. Our conversations typically go something like:

A: God, I wish I could be like you.
B: Trust me, it's not as wonderful as it looks.

Peace or adventure. Happiness or genius. Maybe it's either-or. I'd like to think someone can capture both at once, or at least both in one lifetime. The far ends of the spectrum, I mean. Most of us live, I think, somewhere in the muddle between absolute stasis and constant motion. I'm sure it's possible to strike a balance out of the extremes. It's just that...well, every brilliant globe-trotting person I get to know harbors a kind of dark emptiness, not too far below the surface. It's as though all that activity were a frantic search for something, anything, to fill the void, rather than the realization of The Good Life itself. Very puzzling.

Dardy wrote today that he feels pressure to make "worthwhile" conversation when talking to me. I found this amusing, since I was feeling the same way about talking to him. So strange, how we instinctively place one another into hierarchies, deeming certain people better than we are, others inferior. The more gracious or insecure among us place themselves at the bottom of the totem pole; those who fancy themselves at the top, we call arrogant or judgmental.

Thing is, I suspect there's some value to this system, despite its brutality. To some extent, each person creates an idea of what is good and strives for it, measuring other people by the same yardstick. Good may be a slick hairstyle and a sexy ride, or it may be spiritual enlightenment and generosity of spirit, or it may be sheer IQ and creativity...whatever the criteria, we draw up our little list and sort accordingly. It's our way of making sense of the world, I guess. It may be the only way of choosing our friends.

There, that should be a controversial paragraph. Maybe I'll finally get some mail!

posted by enjelani @ 11:19 PM PST

Replies: 1 comment

Maybe that explains the intimidation I felt the other week at Moonie's ;) You are far up my totem pole babay!

But I can see where you are coming from. I've never really thought about if I catagorize people, but I guess I do. I consider those who don't strive to know themselves, somehow less worthy of my time. I don't like talking about what clothes someone wears, what cars they drive, or their position in the social heirarchy. I just want to know about THEM. What do they FEEL? What do they HUNGER for? What scares the crap out of them? I think that's a big reason why I can sit down and talk to people I just meet for hours and hours... People are just so damn interesting...

posted by syndromes @ 05 07 2002 12:31 AM PST