the Village Knittiot

The thing about Spanish: is that it really gets you thinking about your own native language. Or at least that is what learning a new language has always done for me. Over the course of my life I have studied Japanese, French, German, Greek and Spanish and it is always the same. When I am trying to piece together words in a cohesive fashion, in a way that would make at least a modicum of sense to someone who actually speaks whatever language I am clumsily attempting to use, it forces a person to think about language in the most concrete and basic of terms. I really like that kind of thinking — the kind that starts at the center with a very simple structure and then ripples out to the edges only to get increasingly complex.

The other thing I am always struck by is the very imprecise nature of the English language — the room for ambiguity, misunderstanding, multiple meanings. But I think there is an element of ambiguity to all langages, because language is always contextual. And the context is cultural, experiential and internal. You cannot learn a language in a vacuum. It has no meaning. The second there is language, you have already begun to populate the vacuum and define it, and thus it ceases to be one. Language defines, but even if we agree that a word means something, the context of your life will shade that meaning with your own perspective, as will mine. We are talking about the same thing, but also we are not. How is it we manage to communicate anything between ourselves?

And I suppose that is the beauty of being in this world right now. It is so imperfectly stunning. And it is what makes writing so amazing, because I tell the story I need to tell and you hear the story you need to hear and even if it shares some of the most basic elements, it enters your internal kingdom and undergoes a transformation. Language is living and dynamic. Anyone who denies this is practicing the worst kind of self-delusion.

Other miscellany: socks are the devil. I finished my first sock and I was thrilled. It was pretty. It was also pretty tight on my foot, but a little stretching out and we were all good. I started on the second sock and even though I looked at it as I was getting close to the end and thought to myself, gee, that looks awfully small, I was still surprised when I tried it on and it didn’t fit. I belong to the school of knitting that believes imperfection requires ripping everything out to the beginning and starting all over again. This is also known as the School of Insane Logic (we like the way insane and logic do and don’t fit together all at once). I am fairly certain that if I had been knitting both socks together at once, I would not have run into this problem. This leads me to believe that perhaps knitting both socks on two circulars may indeed be the way to go. I plan to take a few weeks to think about how I want to handle my sock problem before I go about ripping into them. ***added later: I tried them on again and it seems that with a little blocking and stretching the second sock does indeed fit, it just needs to be convinced to loosen up a little bit. Uptight socks are notoriously difficult.

More Miscellany: I have been reading a lot, which sort of surprises me, because with my schedule I thought I would be pretty wiped out. But, as I have experienced time and time again, the busier I am, the more productive and energetic I feel. And there is nothing to get me sucked into reading like studying a new langauge.

First, I finally finished The Unconsoled (again — finally) and I am so glad I decided to reread it. Even though it was still dense and at times hard to wade through, I found that I wasn’t as resistant to the narrative style since I knew what to expect. I just allowed myself to float along with it rather than attempt to cram it into the structure my brain thought it should follow. Second, I had a much more sympathetic understanding of the main character this time through — especially at the end when he was having a discussion with another character who I believe was supposed to be him years earlier, back at the beginning of his career. It was like having the chance to say to yourself all those things you needed to hear from someone else all that time ago. It was a bitter sweet and confusing swirl. And it is one of those books that is satisfying even in its open endedness. You don’t need the openness to be closed off, because it is what makes the most sense. Now that is skilled narration. I heart Ishiguro.

I am also reading Anne LaMott’s most recent book Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, which I think is very interesting. I am always fascinated by people who seem to have found an authentic spiritual experience in the midst of a Christian context. (You know, when it is really about grace and radical acceptance, and not some twisted and hateful social and political agenda that uses Jesus as an excuse to be a racist, homophobic, sexist, unkind and unloving fuck head who votes.) The first book I read by Anne LaMott was Bird by Bird — a very well-known book on writing — and I laughed and cried and related to every single word in that book until I thought I was going to pass out from the sheer joy of knowing that I wasn’t alone in so many of my struggles, both with writing and life. I have read a lot of her stuff since then and there is something authentic and totally lacking in self-righteousness about it. But I think she worries about being lumped in with the rabid Christianity of the right wing, so on some level it seems like she feels the need to point out at every turn that she isn’t a right-winger, she’s a left-winger all the way, without exception. This often disrupts the narrative flow. But her signature willingness to display the whole messy truth of her guts and her life is there, and if nothing else, it is worth it for that. I like that kind of honesty, even if it is hard or embarrassing or uncomfortably familiar.

I have also been making my way through Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. I highly recommend this book, which is exactly what it sounds like - snippets of an ordinary life in Encyclopedia format. It is very original and the author’s voice is perfect for this medium. All these little bits and pieces that have you wanting more of the story. Also, it gets you thinking about your own life. Perhaps it is time for me to get started on an Encyclopedic version of the “100 things about me” post…

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 5th, 2005 at 10:04 am and is filed under this Knittiot Life, this Random Life, this Reading Life, this Writing Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.