A New Beginning

It's a bit early for New Year's resolutions, but here's one of mine. I want to write more. When I started this blog, I thought it would be an educated sort of thing. That is to say, I envisioned myself taking the time to write regular posts about deep topics that I'd thought about for a long time, and then people would start to visit and comment and tell me how wonderful I am. But lately I've been realizing that, while I do think up my share of non-vacuous things, a lot of the time my thoughts aren't that profound. I'm no philosopher, but then again I'm no blond idiot; I'm just a regular guy. So I'm starting anew. I think I'll even change the name of this blog from Childhood: The Sequel, to something more inviting and fitting to my personality, like Ramblings of a Voracious Bookworm, or Ponderings of a Procrastinator. Whatever the title, it won't matter so much as will the new outlook that it represents, for I believe that by taking myself a bit less seriously, I will be more likely to increase the frequency of my writing. And, when a particularly good idea comes up, I hope that I will be dedicated enough to do it justice with my thought and my words. Now, let's get cracking.

Sisters

I was surfing the web one night, when I was supposed to be sleeping or studying, and I stumbled across this article. It made me content and homesick at the same time, and it really made me think about my own dear sisters. Maybe it will do the same for you.


What My Sister Taught Me

The Romantic and Satirist

Most every child is a natural romantic. They look at the same things as adults do, but with different eyes. They look with less comprehension, certainly, but sometimes this new perspective reveals to them what escapes from our view. In this oversimplification, the romantic has something in common with the satirist, for by it both expose the ridiculous. One example that comes instantly to mind is a scene from the movie Mrs. Miniver, where a little boy, Toby, asks his older brother if he is going to marry his girlfriend, Carol. Toby doesn't understand why his brother would hesitate. All he can see is two people in love, who are letting their own awkwardness and hesitance keep them from union.

In the same way, Jonathan Swift, famous satirist and author of Gulliver's Travels, employs this oversimplification to show how ridiculous things are. In reference to the causes of war, Gulliver says, 

"Difference in opinions has cost many millions of lives: for instance, whether flesh be bread, or bread be flesh; whether the juice of a certain berry be blood or wine; whether whistling be a vice or a virtue; whether it be better to kiss a post, or throw it into the fire; what is the best colour for a coat, whether black, white, red, or gray; and whether it should be long or short, narrow or wide, dirty or clean; with many more. Neither are any wars so furious and bloody, or of so long a continuance, as those occasioned by difference in opinion, especially if it be in things indifferent." (Source)

This is obviously oversimplifying matters, but it gets Swift's message across. By exposing the ridiculous, he prompts people to think for themselves, and wonder whether they are acting reasonably.

The romantic and the satirist both expose the ridiculous, then, both wishing to prompt another to right action, and better the world. Their further methods in this end, however, are different. The satirist makes use of humor and/or ridicule, but the romantic usually takes a much more sympathetic approach. He sets out the actions of others, and, like Toby, asks why you would choose the inferior way to the superior. But he does it in such a way that, while the satirist comes across as something of a finger-wagging, head-shaking authority, he appears to be a loving sibling, sharing his experience and knowledge. His is a more subjective approach, based as much on common sense as love and emotion.

That, in a nutshell, is the similarity and difference between the romantic and satirist. They expose the ridiculous to encourage right action among their fellows. And that is a wonderful thing.

Under an Oak Tree

The boy sat and watched the wind dance with the world. The leaves of the old gnarled oak spoke with the wisdom of a thousand tongues, of things they'd seen long ago, long before the boy had breathed. He wondered what they'd say to him, if they could speak. Or perhaps were saying to him, in a language long forgotten. Long ago, he thought, there might have been a castle here, with knights and maids and horses. The red-hot metal sparking in the blacksmith's shop, simultaneous with the hammer's thunder, would have been familiar, homey. And maybe, then, there had been magic. Almost, he could hear the fairies laugh as the foolish princess walked widdershins around the chapel.

The green grass fluttered in the breeze, and the boy wondered what animals had grazed here, once upon a time. A flock of sheep, perhaps, or a herd of cattle; a lone, white unicorn, approached by a virgin milkmaid; anything might have browsed here, then. What feet had walked these ways, under the view of the old gnarled oak tree? Did people stop and rest beneath his boughs, enjoy the shade he'd spent so long expanding? Had princes come and slept there, slept and dreamed of lands so strange and wondrous, words on waking could not capture what they'd seen?

The boy sat, and wondered what the world had been, and could be still.

Introduction

Welcome to my blog. I decided to call it Childhood: The Sequel because that's how I view my "adult" life. (I put it in parentheses because sometimes I hardly consider myself an adult.) Thus far, though I've grown in maturity, life experience and knowledge, I have striven to cultivate that sense of wonder so common and natural to children. Too often, we grow up and become cynical of the world around us, and find it difficult to remember a time when we looked at the world and saw beauty and mystery and wonder.

When I was younger, I remember becoming obsessed with fairy tales. I loved the outlandishness, the thought of there being another world out there, full of adventure and beauty and danger. And, to a certain extent, the idea still fascinates me. It seems to fascinate a number of other people as well, what with all the fantasy movies and novels now so common. So yeah, that's pretty much all I've got to say so far. Happy reading!