Literary Discussions

I often think of John Wayne type movies where someone in a small band isolated from central command simply takes control and does something autonomous, self-directed, perhaps self-sacrificing, unexpected, bizarre, running out with a knife in the teeth and an armful of grenades. This is contrasted with societies and military with such centralized command that should the command center be destroyed the individual soldiers would not feel comfortable improvising on their own. On the other hand, the more the individual seeks creativity and autonomy the less cohesive and unilateral is the behavior of the group as a whole. 

Over a period of several years I watched the progress of one very loving first time mother on Facebook who nursed her baby boy and posted countless adorable photos of her son. I once teased her that she has a duty to post some grouchy photos of the child rather than all these joyous photos that give us the false illusion that there is never a moment of anger or sadness.  The mothers in the thread all laughed and admitted that their babies are often cranky but they tend to post only the blissfully idyllic photos and are reluctant to admit that their child is less than blissful.

There was one DEVASTATING observation which has haunted me during the several years of observation and yet I have never had the heart to express this thought. Perhaps somehow she will stumble across this post. As you read of my childhood experience you will see how I could easily imagine this blissful baby being set up for disappointment in later life.

The devastating realization related to MY situation as the only child of an adoring mother who placed me at the center of the universe. I grew up feeling that I was extremely likable and charming and intelligent and that throughout life I would have friends who adored me as my mother did. The worst thing of all was that my mother drummed into my head that my FATHER also adored me above all else. It took me years to realize that in fact my father resented me as a duty and a burden and felt only contempt for my existence.  He left home when I was only 10 and never even EXPLAINED his departure. My mother and I returned from our usual summer-long vacation to find that he had emptied the house of all his personal belongings and moved out.  As I grew older I came to see this as an act of cowardice.  

My father always provided for me and for a college education although that was part of a divorce settlement. After my mother's death I asked him WHY he married her since he always spoke of her and ALL her relatives with the utmost loathing and contempt. He explained that he was about to ship overseas to World War II and felt certain he would never return. It was convenient to marry this one person who was anxious for marriage and to have a place to stay during furlough leaves from training camp and have someone to send letters and packages overseas.

The point I am trying to make in this long post is that I was set up from infancy to have expectations of myself and the world which were totally unrealistic.  It was not until 4 or five years ago that I finally realized how much contempt I have for my father and how he has equal contempt for me.  He at times hinted that I would inherit some vast fortune (but added that there might be nothing left)... but part of the price I was expected to pay for that possible inheritance was to endure endless insults and mockery with a smile. And he took a third wife who utterly despised me and would never even have me to their home.

 He would announce a visit to NY once every year or so. Finally I was so fed up that I called and told him he should make other plans during his visit and not set aside any time for his token hour with me. He was in shock and could not understand why I would come to such a decision. That was the last I ever spoke to him. A few years later his wife called presumably to say that he was mortally ill in the hospital. I did not let her finish her sentence. I asked her to please never call again. She had her adopted daughter contact me via FACEBOOK.  Her daughter, who had never bothered to return the few emails I sent at first, gave me a long lecture about how my father had been so great to her as a grandfather to her children. But that was the whole point! He had a NEW FAMILY and a family he could respect because they were wealthy and successful in a way that I could never be. I just wrote back and said that I do not care to know when he dies, or where he is buried or to be mentioned in some obituary as a surviving relative.  

We see gifted people (e.g. the late Steve Jobs) who really don't fit into academia and so drop out and do something revolutionary.  Thoreau also seems like that reclusive iconoclastic non-conformist, moving off to Walden pond but then, in his essay "On Civil Disobedience" being the first to use the term "human rights" (though perhaps that story is apocryphal.)