Reflections on life and love in literature and music

So I've been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's debut novel, This Side of Paradise-- likely Fitzgerald's most autobiographical tome. As I'm reading about the love shared by Amory and Rosalind I'm left feeling a bit touched that Fitzgerald would give his readers such an intimate glimpse into the love he felt for Zelda as Rosalind was at least loosely based on his wife, Zelda.

But the constant in Fitzgerald's writing is a certain loss of innocence or fall from grace-- the reality of the fragility of life underneath the illusion that life is grand.

On a similar tangent, today I was reading an excellent post by Sam de Brito on the "Peter Pan syndrome"-- a certain type of guy who refuses to grow up, perpetually relieving his youth by dating college girls and going to work in jeans and ratty old Converse sneakers. de Brito makes the argument that these blokes are the ones who at one point in their lives were burned nee charred by love to the extent that the connections they seek in life tend to be casual and fleeting due to that strong a fear of getting burnt again.

He also brought up the very real potential that these Peter Pan types will end up quite alone which brought to mind a certain Harry Chapin song

"and the little man
looked at the empty glass in his hand
and he smiled a crooked grin
He said, 'I guess I'm out of gin
And I know we both have been
So lonely
And if you want me to come with you
Then that's alright with me
'cause I know I'm going nowhere
and anywhere's a better place to be"-- from A Better Place to Be by Harry Chapin

What is it about some of us that allows us to risk that being burnt again in the game of love where others avoid love after getting burned by its scorching intensity just once? I thought about what made me the type who was willing to risk (and inevitably experience) that pain multiple times. And I think I can trace it back to a passage I once read in one of Douglas Coupland's books. The basic idea of the passage being that the possibility of becoming numb to lows of life comes with it the opposite side of the same coin-- the risk of becoming numb to the highs of life as well. At some point I just decided that the lowest lows were worth it because they made me appreciate the highest highs that much more. Each time I got burned it just made me appreciate love that much more the next time around-- an emotional education in love if you will.

Getting back to Fitzgerald, I'm left thinking-- perhaps the reason many of us don't enjoy reading the classics in high school is that we lack the emotional experience that allows us to empathize with the characters. I read Hemmigway's For Whom the Bell Tolls in high school and didn't much care for it. I read his The Sun Also Rises a few years after graduating college and absolutely loved it. On some level I could empathize with Jake Barnes in a way I'd not been able to do with Robert Jordan in high school. I hadn't yet lived enough. Both Fitzgerald and Hemmingway were able to touch on very real human emotions but only after they had steeled their emotions from the experiences in the grand adventure of life. Now with Fitzgerald, while I don't necessarily care for him, there's something about Amory Blaine that I can relate to in a way that I'd not been able to do with Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby. Much like with For Whom the Bell Tolls I wasn't "there" yet emotionally when I read Gatsby, I had a bit more living to do (that being said, I quite enjoyed The Great Gatsby when I read it in high school-- to the point where I used to refer to my friends as "old sport" which I'm sure got old fast).

Thinking back to the books I truly did enjoy reading in high school-- Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and John Knowles' A Separate Peace the protagonists in those books are either children or adolescents. Lee and Knowles recaptured an innocence of youth that at the time I was able to relate to in a way that felt far more familiar than Hemmingway or Fitzgerald (heck I've even gone back and re-read A Separate Peace at least 3 times since high school-- it remains a favorite of mine to this day).

My "Dear Ronald" letter

As promised:

Dear Ronald,

While I've always had a thing for redheads, I'm sorry but my heart belongs to another-- and no it's not that pigtailed skank, Wendy. It's the King. With his stylish brown hair, his long flowing cape and that bright constant smile... who could resist!

Besides, Ronald, there's something about you I just don't trust. I'm not a fan of the way you ditch your friends. It's been ages since I've seen Mayor McCheese and the Hamburglar... And Grimace? Just because he's a bit on the obese side and has that rare skin disorder that gives him that soft violet complexion, you can't be his friend any more?! What hypocrisy! You're the one who made him that way! Okay, so maybe not the purple complexion, but the obesity. That's ALL you. All those Big Macs, McNuggets, Milkshakes, and Fries!

And your lack of fashion sense?!? McDonald, isn't that a Scottish surname? Have you ever thought of switching from those bright yellow overalls to a kilt in your family tartan? You could promote fries by tossing giant cabers in the shape of your fries. And what about a McHaggis? Embrace your heritage! Don't ignore it, don't run from it. And trust me you'd do substantially more business if you offered a single malt GlenRonald... I know I'd certainly reconsider my love affair with the King if I could get a nice peaty Scotch on the rocks from your fine dining establishments. It would certainly help wash down all the grease that saturates all of your menu items (except maybe the salads... although I'm sure you're working on ways to make your salads greasier... you're too hooked on the cow to forsake it for the rabbit food).

So if you want me to reconsider you'll have to change your ways you obnoxious redheaded prat!

Best regards,
Perplexio

Random thoughts and Blog Homework...

I've been really busy lately but I did/do have some random thoughts/ideas to share:

1. Does it bother anyone else that KENTUCKY Fried Chicken is using Sweet Home ALABAMA as its theme music in its current advertising campaign?
2. Speaking of music I came up with another band name... Severed Chords. The lead singer would have the stage name of Val Sectomy.
3. You know those squirty top water bottles? Sometimes when you close them a little water squirts out. Whenever that happens I look at the bottle and console it... "It's okay it happens to everyone."
4. In the book I'm currently reading (JPod by Douglas Coupland) the characters were musing about Ronald McDonald and what he's like off-duty, if he's haggard from showing up at all those birthday parties. In the end they decide he must be lonely. And then all of the characters write a letter to Ronald making a case for why they'd make a good partner/friend/lover for him. When finished with their letters the plan is to vote on the best one and send it to Ronald... With that in mind, I have an assignment: Write YOUR letter to Ronald McDonald. I don't care if you're gay, straight, male, or female. Make your case for why you're the perfect mate/friend/lover/lifelong companion for Ronald!

I've got to cut this short and get back to my book... in the mean time... get crackin' Ronald's a lonely clown! He needs a companion, don't keep the poor clown waiting too long.

on Douglas Coupland

So I started reading this advance copy of The Gum Thief, Douglas Coupland's latest novel. Coupland's novels have this tendency to get in my headspace and fuck around a bit. That is to say there's a certain naked honesty in his characters that I really relate to, sometimes a little too closely and when that happens all I can think is, "Get out of my noggin, Coupland!" That being said he's still one of my favorite authors because he's one of the few that gets me to reflect deeply on my life, my thoughts, my motivations. Sometimes I suppose that's a good thing, and other times not so much.

So anyway, I started reading this book, and mind you it's been 2 or 3 years since I've read anything by him as I somehow missed his last novel (JPod, which incidentally one of my coworkers has lent me to read when I'm done with The Gum Thief) so the impact his books have on me had faded with time, maybe to the point of growing sepia tones around the edges. But within the first page or two I'm thinking, "Awww, Bloody Hell, he's doing it again!"

Oh and he's Canuck so I have to give him props for that.

Ever read/watch/experience anything like that? Where you know by looking at a work of art, listening to a piece of music, watching a special film, or reading a book that the creator of that work-- whatever that work may be-- was/is operating on the exact same wavelength? I mean beyond the point of merely being able to relate to something-- the point where you relate so closely to something it's either uncomfortable because it hits too close to home or it's extremely comforting because you know you aren't alone in thinking/feeling/acting in that particular way?