...the cats in the cradle
The three people who are supposed to be reading my diss aren't, but there is a guy who is. I am, by the way, defending on the 28th of October. Yesterday, I clocked myself at 12 1/2 double spaced pages a day of writing--whatever you can say about its quality, I am fast.
So, anyway, yesterday I came across this interesting fact, Schindler's Ark, the book upon which Schindler's List was based, won the Booker Prize for fiction. I find that interesting because, clearly, the story of Oscar Schindler and the Jews whom he saved is non-fiction. Amon Goeth is a murdering asshole. This is not to suggest Holocaust denial, only that under the guise of fiction, the author of the work was able to change details if he needed to. Let's say it's 99% correct. There are intimations that some of Schindler's bribes involved sex (I don't know how that worked) and in the movie Amon Goeth seems to suggest that he has sex with one of his German servants against her will, and I haven't read any non-fiction descriptions of Goeth that suggests he was a rapist (though it wouldn't surprise me if he was). This, combined with the fact that the German officer at the end of the Pianist had, in real life, actually helped a number of Jews, makes up a large part of my fifth dissertation chapter.
Anyways, the guy whose reading my dissertation, in his letter responding to my observation was so excited by my insights that he called me "my son."
I don't have Daddy issues. I am not looking for a father figure. I feel that my own father did a pretty fair job. He's a little odd at times, but who the hell isn't. So, I'm not that guy from Scrubs, J.D., always hoping for a fucking hug, but I can appreciate the closeness someone must feel to someone to call them "son," and so I can appreciate the sentiment for what it is. Especially in Massachusetts where everyone is 100% into PDA (Public Displays of Apathy).
Part of me, though, thinks that this is the ultimate expression of condescension (it is literally patronizing). I feel like the evil martial artist who just wants the fucking super diamond belt that will give him the power of his master, but the master won't give it to him, because he's evil. And the master goes, "you have earned my respect," and the evil guy says, "I don't want your respect, old man, I want the belt. Give me what I've earned." Like, I don't want to feel that way but, say, 10% of me does.
The problem is that the total apathy of everyone I've encountered in Massachusetts has put me in the mindset that everything I've achieved academically has been all me. If anyone has helped it has been my wife, but academically, well...she can't exactly read the books for me. So, its like climbing up a mountain and somebody giving you a hand up for the last 2 feet and then taking credit for your climb.
On the other hand, this guy reads my stuff, and he's really into what I'm doing, and that's honestly five times the response I've gotten from anyone else in the university out here (maybe more). Plus, and this is the most important thing, he's a damned good guy and he's fucking smart. I don't say that generally about the professors I meet. Roger is my benchmark, and he's hard to beat (he reads two books a night in history, literature, philosophy, and politics). So, I think I have to let it slide rather than...you know...calling him Dad and rubbing his face in the whole "My Son" thing.
So, anyway, yesterday I came across this interesting fact, Schindler's Ark, the book upon which Schindler's List was based, won the Booker Prize for fiction. I find that interesting because, clearly, the story of Oscar Schindler and the Jews whom he saved is non-fiction. Amon Goeth is a murdering asshole. This is not to suggest Holocaust denial, only that under the guise of fiction, the author of the work was able to change details if he needed to. Let's say it's 99% correct. There are intimations that some of Schindler's bribes involved sex (I don't know how that worked) and in the movie Amon Goeth seems to suggest that he has sex with one of his German servants against her will, and I haven't read any non-fiction descriptions of Goeth that suggests he was a rapist (though it wouldn't surprise me if he was). This, combined with the fact that the German officer at the end of the Pianist had, in real life, actually helped a number of Jews, makes up a large part of my fifth dissertation chapter.
Anyways, the guy whose reading my dissertation, in his letter responding to my observation was so excited by my insights that he called me "my son."
I don't have Daddy issues. I am not looking for a father figure. I feel that my own father did a pretty fair job. He's a little odd at times, but who the hell isn't. So, I'm not that guy from Scrubs, J.D., always hoping for a fucking hug, but I can appreciate the closeness someone must feel to someone to call them "son," and so I can appreciate the sentiment for what it is. Especially in Massachusetts where everyone is 100% into PDA (Public Displays of Apathy).
Part of me, though, thinks that this is the ultimate expression of condescension (it is literally patronizing). I feel like the evil martial artist who just wants the fucking super diamond belt that will give him the power of his master, but the master won't give it to him, because he's evil. And the master goes, "you have earned my respect," and the evil guy says, "I don't want your respect, old man, I want the belt. Give me what I've earned." Like, I don't want to feel that way but, say, 10% of me does.
The problem is that the total apathy of everyone I've encountered in Massachusetts has put me in the mindset that everything I've achieved academically has been all me. If anyone has helped it has been my wife, but academically, well...she can't exactly read the books for me. So, its like climbing up a mountain and somebody giving you a hand up for the last 2 feet and then taking credit for your climb.
On the other hand, this guy reads my stuff, and he's really into what I'm doing, and that's honestly five times the response I've gotten from anyone else in the university out here (maybe more). Plus, and this is the most important thing, he's a damned good guy and he's fucking smart. I don't say that generally about the professors I meet. Roger is my benchmark, and he's hard to beat (he reads two books a night in history, literature, philosophy, and politics). So, I think I have to let it slide rather than...you know...calling him Dad and rubbing his face in the whole "My Son" thing.
posted by Monstro D. Whale at
7:25 AM
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