Posted 1 year, 1 month ago mid-morning by oso
My problem with Foucault isn’t his ideas, which are brilliant, no, my problem is 1.) I can’t pronounce his name and 2.) he convulutes beautiful ideas into impossible-to-understand complexity.
Here is what I take away from Foucault (or, more honestly, from what others have written about Foucault): our reactions to the world and to the situations around us don’t come from our gut or our heart. When we are happy at a full moon party in Thailand or when we are fuming at our 9-5 office jobs, it’s not because those emotions just boil up out of nowhere - it’s because we find ourselves in a situation that either does or does not fit with the personal narrative we’ve constructed for ourselves. And, so, we’re compelled to react strongly and publicly.
Two girls in their mid-twenties sat down next to me at the bar and began to talk excitedly and loudly. It was as if they were talking not just to each other but to everyone in the cafe.
They spoke to each other as if they had been best friends on their high school soccer team but now only saw each other once every three months. The girl with dark hair asked the blonde girl what had happened with her last boyfriend.
“I hate him, I’m never talking to him again, he’s a fucker.”
“Wow, what happened?”
“He tried to get me to pay his cell phone bill.”
“What!? Are you serious? What an asshole.”
“Yeah, I saved the text message, look at this.”
And so the blonde girl handed her cell phone to the girl with dark hair who read the message, made a face of disbelief, and repeated, “what an asshole.”
But two weeks later, when the couple is happily back together, the female friend is happy for her and supportive and sure that things will work out.
This just isn’t how it works for men. The role of devil’s advocate comes to men much easier than supportive friend.
But here is what I couldn’t figure out. When the blonde girl was telling her dark-haired friend what a fucker her ex had been, she looked like she was really enjoying herself. In fact, she looked like she had been anxiously waiting to enjoy the conversation. I had a difficult time believing that her relationship came to an end because of the cell phone bill - boyfriends and girlfriends are always loaning and borrowing money from each other. But I had an even more difficult time understanding why she saved the text message and why she seemed so excited for her friend to read it.
The angry blonde girl seemed to have written an obituary for herself which read: “Throughout her life dashing men, young and old, would fall for Miss X and would always be compelled to buy her the most exquisite of gifts.” The idea of her ex-boyfriend asking to borrow money was so at odds with her portrait of herself that she had to do something about it. And she had to let everyone know that she was doing something about it. She had to define her essence.
“I want to learn how to bake,” she said.
You see, she had seen, for the second time, Stranger Than Fiction. And she particularly remembers Ana Pascal (Maggie Gyllenhaal) say that she could make a more positive imprint on the world by baking delicious cookies and pastries than whatever job she would find as a graduate from Harvard Law School. In the character of Ana Pascal she discovered the seed of a narrative for her own life. She was already writing her own imaginary obituary.
I remember those years so well - trying not only to define who I was - what made me unique from the rest of the world - but trying to assert that uniqueness as well. What I didn’t know - and what I doubt Booger realizes now - is how difficult it is to change your perception of yourself once you’ve written that first imaginary obituary.
Osito,
what my dear does your imaginary obituary say?
As to hetero fem conversations regarding relationships:
We women support our friends and wen we return to dating the man we once spoke harshly about it is all understood. We get together and rant, and often once it is said out loud, we no longer feel that way, and are at somewhat at peace with whatever it was that irked us so much. And our fem friends understand that is the way it works.
Unlike you men, we don’t speak to each other for advice but to share. I am not telling you my problem because I want you to fix it, I am telling you so I can move on.
Oso,
I like the idea of imaginary obituaries… it gives a sense of the direction a person’s life is taking and also is a quick answer to some of the toughest questions in life - Why are we here? Where are we from? Where are we going? - so if I were to die anytime soon, I think my imaginary obituary might be something like…
elenamary,
True, true,… however, you gals don’t even understand each other! My girlfriend and I are friends to a couple and they recently had a huge fight. The girl came to us and told us the story and we both agreed that our male friend was a bit immature and that she should definitely make it difficult for him to get back with her. We were both puzzled to see that the very next day they were together… Then again, my girlfriend’s evolving imaginary obituary would probably describe her as a tomboy, and that’s why we understand each other so well…
Rather than Foucault, it seems like you are referencing Goffman (and more indirectly Durkheim and Weber).
I find it ironic that you remove yourself from the narrative (or obituary - although I find that metaphor to be much too static for the dynamic nature of life) when it seems like that is exactly what you are doing by writing here.
I also find the melancholy wisdom with which you absorb your sister’s narrative amusing as you simultaneously produce your own. Your narrative path is not set in stone, my friend. Agency remains with us until the final obituary is written (by someone else).
I can’t really agree with Elenamary on the female dynamic. I think it’s just trying to see who speaks the loudest! I too remember the “deep” conversations I had with then girlfriends. Now I roll my eyes and wonder why would I ever waste my time. Like Rolando I remember similar conversations with those girlfriends and would wonder why they would be unfaithful, allow themselves to be cheated on, etc. I thought to myself are these the females I need to hang around with it? Defintiely not! As far as my imaginery obtituary - it has been written. “Her demon was perfectionism”
Rolando,
From the brief time I had to get to know you in Monterrey, I would say that you do quite well with your investment in both friendships and beer. I look forward to the day that microbrewing comes of age in Mexico.
Xolo,
You know, it’s funny, as I hint at in the post, I’ve never been able to read Foucault without either getting bored or falling asleep. So all my encounters with the bald man come via much more bearable ’surveys of 20th century philosophy.’ I could swear it was Foucault who was cited for coming up with this idea of feeling restrained by your own personal narrative, but I could easily be wrong.
It seems like whenever you leave a comment, your comment is in disagreement with that I wrote and my response to your comment is in agreement with your disagreement. And so it is here - I don’t really think anyone’s ‘path’ is set in stone, but I do think we tend to make a lot of decisions based on how we perceive ourselves and, more importantly, how we hope others perceive us.
Julissa,
I agree. I think far too much of female conversation is focused on analyzing the behavior of men. Imagine if a third of that brain power were spent finding a cure for malaria. Anyway, we all need to pass the day somehow.
Most French social theorists make more sense and are slightly more entertaining after a few glasses of wine (perhaps that is how they intended their drivel to be read). Then there is Bourdeiu…which is just impossible to get through no matter what you imbibe.
I guess my silence when I agree with you is because I have nothing more to add. Or because I find your thoughts stimulating, but I want to add my perspective. You should take it as a compliment because it is hard to get me out of my lurk-mode.
But I do think you should have a look at Goffman - “Presentation of Self in Everyday Life”. It very much gets at what you are describing. He uses the analogy of the theater, which I like because as a play remains the same, the actors can change particular aspects of their character with successive performances. In the end there is the knowledge that there is an audience and players act accordingly. More broadly there is the issue of people who are neither the actors nor the audience, which he terms as non-persons.
If you want to delve even further into the matter, I recommend having a look at Anthony Cohen’s “Self-consciousness: An Alternative Anthropology of Identity.” Light reading for your trip back from Asia.