'We Tell Ourselves Stories in Order to Live'

That's the name of a collection of nonfiction I have by Joan Didion. Mostly essays, I think, and like about 1/3 of the books I own, I have yet to read any of it. My mum bought it for me for Christmas a couple years ago, I think. I do love the title though. I like to think that it means "stories" in multiple ways - stories as in tales of fiction, creative pieces, and stories as in lies.

From time to time I wonder to what extent it is necessary to lie to yourself in order to survive in the world. There's a quote from A Farewell to Arms that I really like, even though I could only get through about a quarter of the book before stopping from boredom. (I do intend to return to it someday.)

"If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of those you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."

I hate the lack of commas in his writing.

Anyway, I always think of that quote when I think about this - the idea that the world breaks everyone. I tend to think of it mostly as idealists and optimists being broken and reduced to cynicism and pessimism. The romantics of the world are really unfortunate. It's so easy to look at the world and see the darkness and evil that fills it, and it's so much harder to look at it and see the light and hope. It's even harder to see that light and hope and to continue to believe in it. Some people, I think, can function in day-to-day life and still accept all the darkness without losing sight of the light.

But I think other people need to harden themselves to it. They need to defend themselves from the darkness by denying the hope, because let's face it: even though in Corinthians, Paul says love is the greatest of the three that remain, faith and hope are still part of that, and all three are terribly painful. Rewarding if you can nurture them and keep them pure, but that purity hurts. It hurts to be unable to stop believing in someone in whom you know you should have less faith - it's such a battle to continue to have faith in them when deep down, the practical side of you truly believes that you will be let down. And even though you expect it, it still hurts just as much as you knew it would.

I'm generally an "honesty is the best policy" kind of person. With a tendency to use euphemisms and soften the blow, but straight up when you get down to it. But sometimes life just hurts so much, I find the need to convince myself of certain things that, deep down, I know are false. I need to keep telling myself that all people are honest, that all love is worth whatever else you have to endure, that things are going to get better without getting worse, that other people feel as much as I do. I'm not as good at it as some people I know, though. Some people amaze me with how much they have hardened themselves to others, or with how much importance they have placed on something material, which allows them to perform better. These are poor examples, but I can't think of anything better at the moment. Ah. People who can convince themselves that they love people that they really don't. And the people who can convince themselves that they don't love someone any more. (Persuasion!) (What is that quote? Hang on...got it. "Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you." - William Arthur Ward. Oh, and Proust? "In his younger days a man dreams of possessing the heart of the woman whom he loves; later, the feeling that he possesses the heart of a woman may be enough to make him fall in love with her." I think it's Proust.)

Sometimes I wonder if believing in everything good is really the self-deception. Maybe the practical side of me is the right one, the parts of me that is cynical and anti-social and sees more of the bad than the good.

The Dark Knight wrestled with some of this. I'd have to see it again in order to write about any of it though.

The Quiet American did too, if I remember. You had Fowler, the worn and weary old English journalist who had seen enough in the world to be tough and detached, and Pyle, the young American idealist whom the world had not yet either hardened or broken or even taught. Except they weren't in the real world. They were in a sort of hyper-reality - Vietnam in 1955 - trying not to die for 90% of their daily lives.

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