I used to carry a paragraph around with me from a sci-if book I had read that verbalized my understanding of the meaning of life. Good stuff, which I will try and track down to post later. Today, I read something in a newer fantasy novel, The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, that again put to words something I have long believed, but never expressed so well. It is that significant step beyond the fake it til you make it philosophy that has always seemed useful, but lacking something vital. So, heres the nugget from this writer, a conversation between 2 characters, Chronicler and Bast (warning: its a little longer than a FB soundbite): Chronicler relaxed a bit, sensing familiar ground. Thats basic psychology. You dress a beggar in fine clothes, people treat him like a noble, and he lives up to their expectations. Thats only the smallest piece of it, Bast said. The truth is deeper than that. Its... Bast floundered for a moment. Its like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story. Frowning, Chronicler opened his mouth, but Bast held up a hand to stop him. No, listen. Ive got it now. You meet a girl - shy, unassuming. If you tell her shes beautiful, shell think youre sweet, but she wont believe you. She knows that beauty lies in your beholding Bast gave a grudging shrug. And sometimes thats enough. His eyes brightened. But theres a better way. You SHOW her she is beautiful. You make mirrors of your eyes, prayers of your hands against her body. It is hard, very hard, but when she truly believes you... Bast gestured excitedly. Suddenly the story she tells herself in her own head changes. She transforms. She isnt SEEN as beautiful. She is BEAUTIFUL, seen.
Posted on: Wed, 25 Jun 2014 20:55:37 +0000
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