The Familiar

What is too familiar is to be fought. There are those that crave the familiar, and become enthusiastic at its every appearance. The chant. The saying. The audience response to the well-known question posed to them (that isn't even a question), ridiculing the 'Amen'. This is why I find it difficult to watch TV these days.

Friedrich Schiller wrote a poem titled, 'The Favour of the Moment'.

Once more, then, we meet
In the circles of yore;
Let our song be as sweet
In its wreaths as before,
Who claims the first place
In the tribute of song?
The God to whose grace
All our pleasures belong.
Though Ceres may spread
All her gifts on the shrine,
Though the glass may be red
With the blush of the vine,
What boots--if the while
Fall no spark on the hearth;
If the heart do not smile
With the instinct of mirth?--
From the clouds, from God's breast
Must our happiness fall,
'Mid the blessed, most blest
Is the moment of all!
Since creation began
All that mortals have wrought,
All that's godlike in man
Comes--the flash of a thought!
For ages the stone
In the quarry may lurk,
An instant alone
Can suffice to the work;
An impulse give birth
To the child of the soul,
A glance stamp the worth
And the fame of the whole.
On the arch that she buildeth
From sunbeams on high,
As Iris just gildeth,
And fleets from the sky,
So shineth, so gloometh
Each gift that is ours;
The lightning illumeth--
The darkness devours!

I think my blog is better.

The Other Employee

In the workplace, as an ‘employee’ (a terrible way to have to describe oneself) you will encounter

- those who seek to assert authority (even in the smallest ways)
- those who seek fame
- those who seek fortune
- those who seek to break others
- those who are weak
- those who are upstarts
- those who compete
- those who are go-getters
- those who watch the clock
- those who love hierarchies
- those who know it all (but actually know little)
- those who are dull
- those who make excuses
- those who are work-shy
- those who are sickeningly friendly
- those who are against humanity

My advice is to stick with the nice ones you find. If there aren't any nice ones, just quit.

(I must also warn you all that these people aren't only found in the workplace, but at least outside the workplace it is easier to avoid them).

Personality Traits I Hate: Part 1, The Blamer

One of the ugliest personality traits in a human being is one that constantly assigns blame to another, or makes excuses for the things they do. "That wasn't me, that was my friend", "I didn't say that, she did", "I only did that because this happened [which means I really didn't do it after all]."

"I was drunk"
"It was an accident"
"I didn't know"
"It was him"
"It was her"
"It was them"
"It was the whole world conspiring against me"

The world conspires against the blamer and excuser, so that no matter what they do somehow they are the injured ones. This person is continually sinned against and they must live having to bear this.

This person passes the buck with such conviction that it is frightening. One wonders if they believe these excuses themselves, or whether they are fully aware of what they are doing, or whether they are simply mad. Perhaps it is a mix of all three, like a cheap coffee blend that leaves a dirty taste in the mouth.

Blamer, I want you to know that I know what you're up to. I realise that because you have this trait you will always win and I will always lose. But know that I know this.

Different Parts, or A Bad Train Journey

Yet another stupid conversation I had to listen to on the train between Watford and Euston. This time a guy telling someone that “the company is diverse, but it is not about diversity”, No, it is “not about diversity but inclusion”, so they want some kind of symbol or image that reflects this. His first idea? A jigsaw with parts that are all different. They are different parts. After exhausting this idea of the different parts of a jigsaw, he decided he could be better: Russian dolls. Russian dolls are “a good symbol of inclusion”. He toyed around with this idea, but decided he could do even better. “What about the prism on the cover of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon?” This guy’s going places.

(It was unfortunate that I could not hear his explanation of why the prism is an appropriate symbol of inclusion, as I would have welcomed the further amusement. Also, one has to know who their enemies are.)

(It is fortunate that I could not hear his explanation of why the prism is an appropriate symbol of inclusion, as I would have been saddened further. Also, one has to try not to see too many people as enemies.)

A Note on Robert Walser

The Monkey
When asked "Who are you?" the monkey replies by telling stories of encounters he has had. Which is not an untrue response of who a person (or monkey) is.

Freudians versus Jungians

When undertaking some archive work with the psychoanalyst Malcolm Pines, I came across a photograph of cricketers, standing for a group portrait. I showed this to Malcolm, asking him to explain the photograph if he could. He looked at the photograph, then suddenly remembered. "That was when the Freudians played the Jungians", much to my delight. The battle of the minds' form of taking it to the streets. I asked if he could remember who won. He replied, "I think they agreed to call it a draw."

"Your reputation is you"

Hobbes said that "the reputation of Power is Power". What a good observation.

The Downfall of Condorcet

The well known story about the capture of the Marquis de Condorcet during the French Revolution is one of my favourites. Condorcet enters an inn to eat. The waiter asks him his order, to which Condorcet responds that he would like an omelette. The waiter asks how many eggs, to which Condorcet replies "a dozen". The waiter then asks him his trade. "Carpenter". But only the aristocracy would order a 12 egg omelette. The downfall of the Marquis de Condorcet.

Terrapins want more.

Yesterday I went for a walk near my home, taking a route never taken before (certainly not by me). I saw a reptile shop and an aquatics shop next to each other, and decided to have a look in the latter. Though the fish were beautiful, overall it was a sad experience. So little space for so many fish. I was particularly saddened to see the musk turtles, who had little room for manoeuvre, as did the small terrapins. I put my finger up to the glass tank and moved it along from left to right and back again. One of the terrapins followed my finger, trying to bite at it when I stopped moving. Then another joined in. I soon stopped this, feeling that I was exploiting these little creatures. But it did prove one thing - that the terrapins are looking for more in life than what this tank offers.

From 'DOOM' by William Gerhardie

"O Eva, O Eva,
I love you so mighty,
I wish my pyjama was
Next to your nighty"

Accidents Happen

Yesterday my six year old niece said to me "I have to tell you something." Intrigued, I asked "What is it?" She answered: "For the first time I got told off by my teacher..." I interrupted, "For the first or for the tenth time?" She replied (intolerant to my joke), "For the first time". She then started from scratch: "For the second time I got told off by my teacher for not concentrating by accident." Of course, all three adults in her company laughed at this child's admittance that it was not in fact the first time, but moreso at the defense of her classroom neglect as an 'accidental' lack of concentration.

Actually, she is completely right. Of course it was by accident. For who intends to not concentrate? I conclude that she is a very observant young lady.

(I also recall that earlier this year she told me a similar story, where the teacher told her off for not concentrating. She defended herself by saying "I forgot to concentrate as I was looking out of the window." My guess is that these accidents happen on a regular basis.)

Friendship: 'Love's Work' by Gillian Rose

What does it really mean to say that one has been affected or changed by something? Because often we say this about things we have seen or read, the truth being that that it hasn't changed us at all. Maybe we just want it to have changed us.

What touched me the most about Love's Work was the relationships Gillian Rose had with people - a closeness with friends that was direct, yet warm and unconditional. Something that I am unsure if I have ever had. I finished the book feeling that it had changed me.

I have since felt that I would like to explore some of the friendships I have and possibly be more active in making new friends. I do have friends (though not in large numbers - though numbers do not bother me), a few good friends for whom I feel affection towards. What I am hoping for is a friendship that goes beyond niceties. For one to be able to accept a person as they really are, and this to be reciprocated. I may have this with X, but with a lover/spouse it is not the same as with a friend.

But I am not sure if it has actually changed me, as I have yet to act on this feeling. How can one change how they relate to people? This cannot happen over night, and I am just too lazy to put the hours in.

It impressed me that Rose could have such an openness with people. Perhaps she did not have this with all, but it is enough that she had this with the few friends she mentions in Love's Work. I am envious. Yet happy that someone else has this at least. Because I do not believe this kind of friendship is as common as we'd like to believe.

People From The Past

I have to question whether people from the past are worth the effort. I have a feeling that often they are simply nosey and curious to know what you are up to now. Are you more successful than me? Are you happier than me? Are you more interesting than me? The answer to all these must be 'no', of course. Not only must you not exceed their amount of happiness and success, but you must have less. Otherwise this is intolerable.

It's a good job my personality is such that I have no care for those in my past (and that my success and happiness are limited).

'INTERVIEW WITH MYSELF' - by Jean Renoir

Clearing Out

Whilst tidying up recently I found some items which triggered some thoughts and memories. I immediately decided to write them down. So, I have written some of them down, though now I do not think they are worthy of being written about. But I'm not deleting it now.

- A postcard of a drawing of the Cinque Port Arms pub, in Hastings. On my visit there in 2009, I discovered that the pub, which was built in 1824, then rebuilt a century later after a fire, was originally the spot of a tudor inn. The ghost of one of the innkeepers lives there, and bangs on the ceiling. I had a gin and tonic, which I remember was very nice.

- A postcard of a painting of Brighton's West Pier, with a note from Joy, the artist. She gave me this after a pleasant conversation about my time living in Brighton. Joy worked on Kubrick's film, 2001: A Space Odyssey. When I think of her I smile as she is so colourful in both personality and dress. I have been meaning to buy her a pink cup for ages.

- A Wiener Library newsletter for Summer 2010, which mentions their planned moved (which has now happened) out of its long-term home in Devonshire Street to Birkbeck. No money, no choice. I am appalled that this has happened. I have fond memories of reading in there.

- Programme for Peter Handke's Kaspar, produced by the Aya Theatre Company in 2010 in Southwark. Strange and trying, but very good. The first part was better than the second. One side of the programme opens up into a poster, which has a picture of man a man standing in front of a wall which has spray-painted on it 'I WANT TO BE SOMEONE LIKE SOMEBODY ELSE WAS ONCE'. I remember being utterly impressed at the actor's ability to repeat this sentence over and over. I very much like Handke's The Goalie's Anxiety at the Penalty Kick and The Left-Handed Woman.

- A birthday card sent to me, written by my niece when she was first able to write, with a drawing of me and x dancing at my party. What strikes me as unusual in this is that my dress has a front door drawn on it.

- Tate Modern programme for season 'Outsider Films on India', where I was able to see Rossellini's very rare film 'India: Matri Bhumi'. Wonderful - and proof that one should always make the effort, even when it rains.

- Small booklet titled 'Quick and healthy breakfasts' which I kept in order to have just that: a quick and healthy breakfast. I have yet to make anything from it, but will keep it just in case.

- Programmes notes for the Philippe Parreno exhibition at the Serpentine Gallery, which I went to in February 2011. I liked these films very much, but didn't really understand what was going on until after. But I believe that things can still be interesting and very good even if we have no idea what is happening.

- An incomplete draft of my MA essay on Adam Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. A most enjoyable book to write about, yet the story of my life is that things always remain either incomplete or entirely rushed. Live and learn (though I haven't).

- A note to me from a nice, older gentleman, whom I encountered at Judith Butler's talk on Kafka's archives. Tickets had sold out, but I had a spare to sell. The note is from John Smythe, dated 5 Feb 2011, and reads as follows:

"Dear WENDY
That was so kind of you.
Permit me to tell you about the
FREE Scottish Dancing Classes @ } starts
St. Columba's Church, Pont St. SW3. } 7:15
Worth tracking down."

- My psychological report from when I was tested for various learning difficulties in 2006. The conclusion was that I have a 'Specific Learning Difficulty' which I hate saying. I have largely ignored these results and advice - I'd rather suffer and be stressed than have to spend time re-learning how to learn. I'll stick with my old and trusted, albeit stressful, exhausting and time-consuming method.

As an archivist, part of me wants to throw it away now - it will only be thrown away after my death. I hate the idea of someone else discarding these things. I'll get there first. My difficulty with throwing things away is to do with the fear that I will one day need those items for something, or a feeling of guilt for discarding what is meaningful to another.

(But perhaps these things are more meaningful to me than I realise, as not only have I kept them, but I also share the experience of them with you.)

Overload (Or, A Modern Experience)

Like Hal Hartley's films, David Byrne's 'Report From L.A.' has a detachment between the one speaking and the words being spoken. In ‘The Quotable Gesture’ Walter Benjamin writes, “An actor must be able to space his gestures the way a typesetter produces spaced type. This effect may be achieved, for instance, by an actor’s quoting his own gesture on stage.” This is no easy feat for the actor, yet is undoubtedly achieved in Byrne's performance and in Hartley's films:

Report From L.A.
The Unbelievable Truth

Asparagus in January

As I have previously mentioned I am very fond of the change in seasons. So imagine my delight when coming across this reading of the season's, or rather, one's relationship to them, in Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment, when Razumikhin says to Raskolnikov,

"You see, Roddy, in my opinion all you have to do to make a name for yourself in the world is to stick to the seasons. If you don't order asparagus in January, you'll be the better for a few roubles in your pocket."

I am not interested in making a name for myself, but still see Razumikhin's advice as worth following: stick to the seasons.

Lines

Amongst the tens of thousands of lines repeatedly typed "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" for Jack's manuscript in Kubrick's The Shining, the employed typist rebels, writing instead "All work and no pay makes me a dull boy".

A Red Hat by Gertrude Stein

"A dark grey, a very dark grey, a quite dark grey is monstrous ordinarily, it is so monstrous because there is no red in it. If red is in everything it is not necessary. Is that not an argument for any use of it and even so is there any place that is better, is there any place that has so much stretched out."