the writer
This weekend Vadim and I obligatorily atttended a family function. A 1 year old's birthday, which was celebrated in a true russian-immigrant style: a russian restaurant party complete with fancy decorations, abundant amounts of seafood dishes and plenty of people hired specifically to entertain the screaming children. One of the family members in attendance was a writer. I heard of her several years ago, and had already seen her once at a different family gathering. I read a short story written by her in the New Yorker magazine a while back, but did not remember retaining any sort of lasting impression. However, the mere fact that there is a writer in Vadim's family fascinates me. Many times during the party I kept catching myself staring at her, thinking that there really is a writer among us! Imagine that. To my surprise, I never once saw her speaking to anybody else, not to a single relative. In fact, for the duration of the event, she was heavily engaged in what seemed to be an extremely interesting and lively discussion with her husband. She even sat in a way in which she was half turned in her chair to face him, thereby giving off the vibe that she was closed off to conversations with anybody else in the room.
And to tell you the truth, I was not surprised. Even if I tried really hard, I could not imagine her having a conversation with any of the people at the party. I could say that she was an ice princess, that she felt herself above all the people there. But that wouldn't be entirely accurate. While she did give off a certain aloofness, I really didn't get the impression of superiority from her. Maybe I am completely off, but am guessing that that is indeed how she felt there. Maybe superior is not the right word, but just of a different world alltogether. I often say that you can tell so much about people just by looking at their faces. You can just guess right away a person's character and many times after I form an impression, I later find out facts that confirm that my impression is indeed correct. She looked like a sweet, charming woman. More charming, in fact, than anybody else in the room by far. She was pretty and timid and elegant. I kept wanting to talk to her, to penetrate this wall that she built around herself and her husband. But of course - what in the world would I say to her? "I read your story a while back, what is it that made you start writing?" Right...
So today, in some strange way seeking to fulfill my gut feeling about this woman, I found another story of hers, called "Mistress" (which can be found here). I loved the story. Absolutely loved it. Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Perhaps it is. But there is just something about it, something so familiar and sad. Of course I cried at the end. But I wanted to cry even before I got to the end, because although there was nothing terribly tragic in the story, nevertheless it gave me such a feeling of familiar hopelessness and melancholy. I can't really explain how it made me feel because unfortunately, unlike her, I am not a writer. I am curious if anybody else, not from the same culture as myself, would find the story just as touching. Was I touched because I can relate - I can see my own grandfather in this story, as well as so many other russian grandfathers, just muddling along with no purpose in this new and strange country. We've been here so long, and it's been such a long time since we've all assimilated, that I almost forgot about this aspect of immigration.
In any case, I think I will buy her book of short stories. And at the next family gathering, I will come up with some way to start a conversation with her, without sounding like a blubbering fool (which is my constant fear and the reason why I rarely start conversations with strangers, and why I am terrible at shmoozing).
---
For my Education Law course, part of our course requirement is to write 5 reaction papers during the term, basically reacting in a couple of paragraphs to any of the assigned reading. Most of my reaction papers are simply that - a fulfillment of a requirement in which I try to come up with sophisticated rhetoric to express in an educated manner opinions which I don't really hold. Not that I am writing about opinions that are the opposite of my true ones, but instead I simply don't have strong feelings about any of the things I write about. Just how good I am at this rhetoric stuff became blatantly obvious to me during the last class. My professor had in front of him my latest reaction paper, and asked me to expound on what I had written for the rest of the class. I found myself fumbling with the words, not really knowing what to say because it had been several days since I've written the piece, and I really did not remember what I wrote. Nor did I have a strong opinion on the matter, as explained above. Seeming a bit disappointed with my lack of response, my professor said "You wrote extremely eloquently about your feelings in your paper, I believe you said..." and proceeded to read an exherpt from my paper. I have to say that I sat there and thought "Hey, he's right. I did write about it fairly eloquently. How sad that I can't think of a single thing to actually SAY about the same subject matter." For the curious, here is the part that my professor found eloquent:
Perhaps I hold a naïve view of American teachers, but I find it very difficult to believe that deception and manipulation on the part of the teachers, such as that described by Moe, is widespread. The idea that systematic abuse of the testing system is taking place in many of our public schools is extremely disturbing, and makes it seem that most American teachers do not possess any integrity... I believe (and I hope that I am right) that many teachers actually do want their students to learn, are themselves interested in accurate assessments, and would not sabotage the testing system in order to bolster their careers.
I often surprise myself because I couldn't care less about most things that I study, but somehow I do know how to make it sound as if I have something of value to contribute to the topic. Somehow I can do it if it's a written assignment, but I am completely incapable to bullshit in the same way when I'm called upon to do the same by speaking. I wondef if I can find a way to use this particular strength in my career as a lawyer without exposing my weakness.
And to tell you the truth, I was not surprised. Even if I tried really hard, I could not imagine her having a conversation with any of the people at the party. I could say that she was an ice princess, that she felt herself above all the people there. But that wouldn't be entirely accurate. While she did give off a certain aloofness, I really didn't get the impression of superiority from her. Maybe I am completely off, but am guessing that that is indeed how she felt there. Maybe superior is not the right word, but just of a different world alltogether. I often say that you can tell so much about people just by looking at their faces. You can just guess right away a person's character and many times after I form an impression, I later find out facts that confirm that my impression is indeed correct. She looked like a sweet, charming woman. More charming, in fact, than anybody else in the room by far. She was pretty and timid and elegant. I kept wanting to talk to her, to penetrate this wall that she built around herself and her husband. But of course - what in the world would I say to her? "I read your story a while back, what is it that made you start writing?" Right...
So today, in some strange way seeking to fulfill my gut feeling about this woman, I found another story of hers, called "Mistress" (which can be found here). I loved the story. Absolutely loved it. Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Perhaps it is. But there is just something about it, something so familiar and sad. Of course I cried at the end. But I wanted to cry even before I got to the end, because although there was nothing terribly tragic in the story, nevertheless it gave me such a feeling of familiar hopelessness and melancholy. I can't really explain how it made me feel because unfortunately, unlike her, I am not a writer. I am curious if anybody else, not from the same culture as myself, would find the story just as touching. Was I touched because I can relate - I can see my own grandfather in this story, as well as so many other russian grandfathers, just muddling along with no purpose in this new and strange country. We've been here so long, and it's been such a long time since we've all assimilated, that I almost forgot about this aspect of immigration.
In any case, I think I will buy her book of short stories. And at the next family gathering, I will come up with some way to start a conversation with her, without sounding like a blubbering fool (which is my constant fear and the reason why I rarely start conversations with strangers, and why I am terrible at shmoozing).
---
For my Education Law course, part of our course requirement is to write 5 reaction papers during the term, basically reacting in a couple of paragraphs to any of the assigned reading. Most of my reaction papers are simply that - a fulfillment of a requirement in which I try to come up with sophisticated rhetoric to express in an educated manner opinions which I don't really hold. Not that I am writing about opinions that are the opposite of my true ones, but instead I simply don't have strong feelings about any of the things I write about. Just how good I am at this rhetoric stuff became blatantly obvious to me during the last class. My professor had in front of him my latest reaction paper, and asked me to expound on what I had written for the rest of the class. I found myself fumbling with the words, not really knowing what to say because it had been several days since I've written the piece, and I really did not remember what I wrote. Nor did I have a strong opinion on the matter, as explained above. Seeming a bit disappointed with my lack of response, my professor said "You wrote extremely eloquently about your feelings in your paper, I believe you said..." and proceeded to read an exherpt from my paper. I have to say that I sat there and thought "Hey, he's right. I did write about it fairly eloquently. How sad that I can't think of a single thing to actually SAY about the same subject matter." For the curious, here is the part that my professor found eloquent:
Perhaps I hold a naïve view of American teachers, but I find it very difficult to believe that deception and manipulation on the part of the teachers, such as that described by Moe, is widespread. The idea that systematic abuse of the testing system is taking place in many of our public schools is extremely disturbing, and makes it seem that most American teachers do not possess any integrity... I believe (and I hope that I am right) that many teachers actually do want their students to learn, are themselves interested in accurate assessments, and would not sabotage the testing system in order to bolster their careers.
I often surprise myself because I couldn't care less about most things that I study, but somehow I do know how to make it sound as if I have something of value to contribute to the topic. Somehow I can do it if it's a written assignment, but I am completely incapable to bullshit in the same way when I'm called upon to do the same by speaking. I wondef if I can find a way to use this particular strength in my career as a lawyer without exposing my weakness.
posted by SmallWonder at 5:26 PM
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