Last weekend, I read East of Eden. I hadn’t read any Steinbeck since the high school assignment that left me inconsolable over George and Lenny, but since I’d read everything else in my apartment (excepting something glossy containing just too many photos of the Olsen Twins), I lugged the 600-pager to the park. I couldn’t put it down (and thankfully encountered no tragic “tell me about the rabbits” moments). What was interesting, though, was that in six hundred pages, I found I’d gotten hung up on a point made within the first five.
“You can boast about anything if it’s all you have. Maybe the less you have, the more you are required to boast.”
Ah, Steinbeck. Hits you with it on page four. No sense in burying a good lesson too deeply in an epic tome. I actually closed the book for a minute, took a sip of coffee and gave the idea some thought. And I’ve been thinking about it since.
I see that trend in myself. To boast when I have nothing. I know that when I am at my most vulnerable, that’s when my instinct tells me it’s imperative to convince the blogging world otherwise. Strut. Embellish. Lie. Anything to mask my true insecurity. I also know I’ve gotten better at cutting the crap. I spend my entire workday making things sound and look better than they are. Why do it on my off time?
It’s as though, if we say it, that will make it true — the self-fulfilling prophesies of blogging. I’ve found marketing myself to be a vast and unrewarding waste of time, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been guilty of it.
But it’s like the nasty email that starts with LOL and ends with ha ha ha, as though the embellishment somehow conceals the intended spite of the message. Seriously, why bother?
Well, because sometimes, the truth isn’t pretty.
Sigh. Too bad the rest of the book was all about making choices. He seemed to have all the answers about that topic, but it doesn’t help me much. I’m still a bit stuck on page four.
Having spent way too many hours last night writing my first-ever resume, this hits home. The alternative question, even more painful, is just what the hell have I been doing for the last 20 years?
The thing is, Fish, I do bear a passing resemblance to Paul Newman at 40. I mean, we both wore shirts and socks then (mostly), and we spoke English like Americans.
Meanwhile, the first chapter of Anna Karenina has got me hooked. Tolstoy sums up all that is known about human nature in about 20 pages; the rest is just exposition. I think this is why they call it great literature.
Hooray for you, and for this post. Hear hear, brave chick. I keep learning this lesson, poorly. After age 30 it’s gotten a little bit, but only a little bit, easier to accept that people can love me even if I’m a little broken, clumsy, uncertain, sad, or otherwise not all sparkly smart and shiny fun. But in fact the connections made in the face of that truth, when we reveal our vulnerability, are the strongest ones. When I think about why I love other people, it’s their willingness to show me their whole selves that ties me to them. When I think about being loveable, though, I often think it’s about being sparkly and spunky and talented and so try to cover up the ways I’m not.
And your voice is strongest and bravest when you aren’t trying to sell anything, as I’m sure you know.
There’s another worthy tome with a similar message: “Wise people should not boast that they are wise. Powerful people should not boast that they are powerful. Rich people should not boast that they are rich. If people want to boast, they should boast about this: They should boast that they understand and know me. They should boast that they know and understand that I, the Lord, act out of faithfulness, fairness, and justice in the earth and that I desire people to do these things.”
Perhaps it is our sense that none of us has anything to boast about that compels us to try to prove otherwise….. Or not.
I have to teach “Of Mice and Men” next month to several 10th grade English classes. We’ll be reading about those rabbits…..
Anyway, I’m ashamed to say that, as an English teacher, I’ve never read “East of Eden.” It’s quite embarrasing.
I’ve worked in a bookstore since 1988 and I’ve never even read Of Mice and Men! The shame of it keeps me awake at night and is perhaps responsible for my excessive drinking…
Great post.
I picked it up last summer and never opened it until this summer. Unfortunately, I never got past the first 25 pages. But since the lesson was on page 4, well, then, it was worth the effort!
Ah Steinbeck, indeed. It’s a wonderful book, though it overamplifies a bit, as if every character must be flexed through apposition with each of the others. East of Eden is one that blurs with time, for me, but I remember the clear valley taste of it.
I dextrously avoided Steinbeck all through high school, and I’m glad I did. When I came to him later it was with that rushing joy of gusto, when you realize with a shock — same with Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, same with Faulkner and Hemingway, same with so many others — that books become great, they aren’t simply born that way. And the best are undeniable. What luck that I never had to read him for assignments.
I think Tobacco Road might be one of my favorite books of all time.
Reminds me of the politics of academia. I don’t remember who said it, but “the reason the fights are so bitter is, the stakes are so low.”
vacuous
Aw, you’ll get (metaphorically) to the rest of the book. Page 4 is probably most important right now.
I think it’s natural to want to brag when we’re down. I know I do it.
Oh, and I love East of Eden. I love biblical symoblism in general and Steinbeck? He is the master of it.
the truth is more interesting. I
This was a good post. Even when people share their truths and struggles on blogs, I still feel the whole blogsphere is a game of mirrors and masks. Not so different than regular life, I suppose.
Love this post, and I want to write your statement down somewhere in a journal “I’ve found marketing myself to be a vast and unrewarding waste of time”.
I recommend this book- “Undefended Love”- sounds scripturey self-help, but thankgodfully not- just entirely relevent.
You go girl! Thought you might like to know you have a celebrity fan who enjoys your blog, a hip hop mogul that goes by the name of P-Diddy!
Whenever you mention the rabbits all I can think about is Bugs Bunny doing his imitation of it. It’s funny to think that I saw it as a kid (the cartoon with him saying “which way did he go, George?”) and found it hilarious but that the actual story is heartbreaking.
The truth is never pretty. It’s either ugly or it’s beautiful and both ways it hurts.
“Timshel.” That seems like the only wisdom Steinbeck had on choice….
Fish,
I’d like to remind you that your blog started from nothing. People came to YOU, Fish, not the other way around. Looking into your archives, there was a time when no-one commented, no doubt because no-one was reading it. There is NO NEED for you to justify your blogging to anyone, lest of all yourself.
Not to detract from the intent of your comment — which I appreciate — but when I transferred my posts from the original blogspot site, all the comments were lost.
That’s a shame. I like reading comments.