I've been thinking about The Wheel of Time series lately...not only because I read it to escape other, less constructive thought patterns, but also because it strikes such real, human notes. At least for me. It's a fantasy series, with wizards and princes and queens and monsters, yet it is so vast (13 books with the final book on the way). The characters are so deeply developed, that I cannot help but compare myself to them. And, as you might expect, I find myself terribly lacking. I'm not out saving the world with my inherent magical powers, you know.
You'd think that after all these years of writing essays about paintings and sculptures and monuments, I would have some skill in (at the very least) making others see what I see in a given work of art. Technically I should also be able to convince you to agree with me that that is what said work is all about. These days, though, I don't feel very skilled. So I imagine that this is once again a collection of nonsensical typing.
I've been really annoyed with the main characters lately. Not because of the plot, or where it has taken them (it's all fantastic), but because they're young, powerful and innately good at what they do. Granted, it's easy to write a character with all the right specifications. This one learns how to be a leader in mere months, finding just the right mentor and just the right situations. That one is gifted with extra knowledge and just happens to influence thousands of people in a positive way. And supposedly they're all around 20 or 21 years old. Bastards.
Now, not every single character gets it right. There are plenty of fools, idiots that set back grand plans to defeat evil once and for all. And there are the nameless, the extras, that fill in this world that popped out of Robert Jordan's head. The extras are of course a mixture of good, bad and ugly. The main characters see them as subjects, people to be helped and fought for. They aren't doing their own fighting. Sometimes they have names, sometimes they do not. Some of them join the cause, elevated to major status because of (once again) some talent they were born with.
This whole world revolves around a Pattern, fate if you will...the classic struggle of heroes: to fulfill their destiny or to achieve what they really want. I myself don't see much fate at work in the real world. But wouldn't it be nice to believe that I am who I am and where I am for some great purpose? Automatically I place myself as an equal to the main characters and all their power. Isn't that arrogant of me, now? Naturally, they are the most developed characters, and I identify with certain traits, but...In reality, I don't feel as powerful. I don't feel I have any inborn talents, no skills honed while struggling to survive. And I definitely don't feel I am rising to any great station in life. I sometimes wonder if I missed something at the two universities I attended...was I supposed to obtain some sort of "power" there? Did I miss what fate intended?
I guess the question that this all boils down to--with the potential answer that taunts me--is this: If the real world were an epic novel, would I be one of the nameless throng or a main character?
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
29 June 2011
01 September 2010
animal welfare
Part of wrapping up my time at the museum is finishing the book I borrowed from my coworker: The Omnivore's Dilemma. After hearing about it, and considering who I borrowed it from, I was worried it would be a vegan manifesto. Hardly. Well, I'm sure some people have interpreted it that way, which is a shame. It's a well-thought, well-written collection of essays, really, with anthropological, ecological and political significance.
The author, Mr. Pollan, really dug in deep to figure out where his food comes from. I don't see how anyone could truely look at that complicated web of resources without some journalistic integrity and objectivity. Sprinkled in, though, there were some subjective moments that bothered me. It's his book, his prerogative. But I don't think, even on large corporate farms, that dairy cattle are "tethered" to machines 24/7. The milking process takes only minutes. Of course, the farm I grew up on is wildly different from the larger farms of today. Maybe there are some who keep the cows tied to the milkers...though I can think of no reason other than corporate ignorance. It bothered me because it's a long-standing misconception that the author only hinted at in a brief phrase. Dairy was not part of the larger discussion, like meat was. Placating me was his assertive conclusion that there are "good farms," mostly family-owned, which I can only hope include my family's. He spent a lot of time with farmers, discussing the market, subsidies, and their work in general. He concludes that consumers need to know their farmers and producers. Righto.
I'm not sure how much time he spent with sheep, though, since he wrote about a ewe's "udders." Another misconception, like the "only bulls have horns" thing. If you have one ewe or one cow, you have one udder. Not plural. What is plural are the teats on the udder. It may seem trivial to some, but it's yet another example of the public's lack of knowledge. And in some cases, their lack of desire to unlearn these silly things and listen to someone who knows.
The "udders" came along in the discussion of animal rights. He was refreshingly honest and rational about it all. Weighing pros and cons, responding step-by-step to a major animal rights writer's arguments. These arguments were read, apparently, while Pollan enjoyed a steak. Nice. He tried vegetarian. Also nice. What I found the most enlightening was his conclusion that those who do not eat meat or animal products are in some ways even more disconnected from nature than the majority of the population that forages in the supermarket. 1. There's biology. The shape of our teeth, the movement of our jaws, and the ability of our digestive systems to process protein found only in meat. 2. There's ecology. The benefit of eating rumenants like cows and sheep that process the main energy sources of certain landscapes (i.e. New England) that do not yield vegetables that we can eat. If we were all vegan, we'd have to abandon a large amount of the planet and live in very specific locations. 3. There's morality. Or rather, the clash of it. Some animal rights thinkers go so far as to assert that a lion eating an antelope is evil. Really? Evil? Those particular thinkers are in fact dislocated from a natural order that has governed this planet for millenia. Sure, the lack of raping and pillaging is a plus. But killing, even when all you eat is vegetables, is inevitable.
I was happy to read that my own position is not in conflict with the author's. There's so much more I could type here, like the humor injected into discussions of farmers and debt and family legacy. He supports agriculture, not agribusiness. So amusing and appreciated. I hope there are more people out there who take this book and its discussions not as a source for buzz words like "monoculture" or "organic." If we do make big changes to our food supply, people will suffer, at least financially, and it will require a major cultural shift. So I'll leave it to the big authors to sort it all out.
The author, Mr. Pollan, really dug in deep to figure out where his food comes from. I don't see how anyone could truely look at that complicated web of resources without some journalistic integrity and objectivity. Sprinkled in, though, there were some subjective moments that bothered me. It's his book, his prerogative. But I don't think, even on large corporate farms, that dairy cattle are "tethered" to machines 24/7. The milking process takes only minutes. Of course, the farm I grew up on is wildly different from the larger farms of today. Maybe there are some who keep the cows tied to the milkers...though I can think of no reason other than corporate ignorance. It bothered me because it's a long-standing misconception that the author only hinted at in a brief phrase. Dairy was not part of the larger discussion, like meat was. Placating me was his assertive conclusion that there are "good farms," mostly family-owned, which I can only hope include my family's. He spent a lot of time with farmers, discussing the market, subsidies, and their work in general. He concludes that consumers need to know their farmers and producers. Righto.
I'm not sure how much time he spent with sheep, though, since he wrote about a ewe's "udders." Another misconception, like the "only bulls have horns" thing. If you have one ewe or one cow, you have one udder. Not plural. What is plural are the teats on the udder. It may seem trivial to some, but it's yet another example of the public's lack of knowledge. And in some cases, their lack of desire to unlearn these silly things and listen to someone who knows.
The "udders" came along in the discussion of animal rights. He was refreshingly honest and rational about it all. Weighing pros and cons, responding step-by-step to a major animal rights writer's arguments. These arguments were read, apparently, while Pollan enjoyed a steak. Nice. He tried vegetarian. Also nice. What I found the most enlightening was his conclusion that those who do not eat meat or animal products are in some ways even more disconnected from nature than the majority of the population that forages in the supermarket. 1. There's biology. The shape of our teeth, the movement of our jaws, and the ability of our digestive systems to process protein found only in meat. 2. There's ecology. The benefit of eating rumenants like cows and sheep that process the main energy sources of certain landscapes (i.e. New England) that do not yield vegetables that we can eat. If we were all vegan, we'd have to abandon a large amount of the planet and live in very specific locations. 3. There's morality. Or rather, the clash of it. Some animal rights thinkers go so far as to assert that a lion eating an antelope is evil. Really? Evil? Those particular thinkers are in fact dislocated from a natural order that has governed this planet for millenia. Sure, the lack of raping and pillaging is a plus. But killing, even when all you eat is vegetables, is inevitable.
I was happy to read that my own position is not in conflict with the author's. There's so much more I could type here, like the humor injected into discussions of farmers and debt and family legacy. He supports agriculture, not agribusiness. So amusing and appreciated. I hope there are more people out there who take this book and its discussions not as a source for buzz words like "monoculture" or "organic." If we do make big changes to our food supply, people will suffer, at least financially, and it will require a major cultural shift. So I'll leave it to the big authors to sort it all out.
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