It's been done

[lettered]

About ten years ago, when I was sixteen, I was spending a significant portion every day looking for an objective morality. I didn’t feel I could definitively tell right from wrong. It bothered me, so I thought that I could find a “platform” from which to view the world, I could determine the difference in any situation. I spent a lot of time thinking and writing about it.

Later I found out what philosophy and religion were about.

That’s my best example of having Things To Say about something, then realizing Things had already been said. Finding out you’ve been chipping away at a question that is pretty much the central theme of all abstract thought in the history of the world can be kind of a downer, actually. Gets to be even more of a downer when you realize that people have always been chipping away at all the questions you’ll ever think to ask, and they’ve chipped deeper than you’re going to.

It makes you wonder, what’s the point? Previous great minds have already thought of everything I’m going to say. Furthermore, they have read all that previous to previous great minds have had to say and built their thoughts on those thoughts. I don’t have time, for one thing, to read previous great minds and previous-previous great minds and build my own thoughts on theirs.

One thing that always cheers me up is T.S. Eliot. I don’t really know what his poems are supposed to be about, but to me they’re about all this intelligent, meaningful stuff that has come before, overwhelming you until you’re unable to say anything in the present time. To me those poems are about the fear of saying anything, fear of what you say being meaningless. Yet they’re some of the most meaningful poems I’ve read. Here was someone who obviously recognized this profound fear of being pointless, but he said something and made a point.

So on the one hand, I feel intimidated by T. S. Eliot. But then I think about T. S. Eliot on El Jay, looking at Milton macros which say, “I have a Lucifer; your argument is invalid!” And T. S. Eliot sort of shuffles and thinks, “Aw, Milton, my argument totally is invalid! I’ll just erase my post now.”

It’s not that I think I decide to keep my post/continue thinking about moral objectivity/not give up writing/always say what I think because I might be the next T. S. Eliot. It’s more like, “Dude, if Eliot felt intimidated, we probably all are.” May as well just suck it up, fuck it, and do this shit. You know?

The ironic thing is a lot of people may feel the intimidation thing, except you wouldn’t know it. If you feel it keenly, then you are aware that others have felt it before you and expressed it better. But if everyone felt that way all the time then T. S. Eliot would never post to El Jay.

So, do you feel the intimidation thing? On LJ? In writing? In real life? How do you get past it? Do you think about someone who inspires you, or does that make it worse? Who/what is it that intimidates you? What do you want to do with your life, anyway?

Comments

[stultiloquentia]

It's been done
That’s my best example of having Things To Say about something, then realizing Things had already been said.

Ha, yep, I remember quite clearly the moment I realized I'd basically reinvented Spinoza...or, that is to say, a fraction of Spinoza. I actually found it kind of neat, though. Annoying, sure, that I was never going to be recognized for my astounding insights, but tickled that I was following the same path as a certified Smart Dude.

It makes you wonder, what’s the point?

What's the point of thinking? Hell, what's the point of doing crossword puzzles?

One thing that always cheers me up is T.S. Eliot. I don’t really know what his poems are supposed to be about, but to me they’re about all this intelligent, meaningful stuff that has come before, overwhelming you until you’re unable to say anything in the present time. To me those poems are about the fear of saying anything, fear of what you say being meaningless. Yet they’re some of the most meaningful poems I’ve read. Here was someone who obviously recognized this profound fear of being pointless, but he said something and made a point.

Yay Eliot. I think there's a danger, when looking at All That Has Come Before, of...not noticing the present. Of looking at centuries of philosophers who have examined the concept of Christian love (for eg., because there was an article about it in the Times this week), and thinking, "Well, gee, nothing more to say about those abstracts," and failing to notice the most exciting question of all, which is, IMO, "How are these abstracts relevant right now? How are they playing out, or failing to, right here?" And that is what's always new. It's what T.S. Eliot discovered. He pinned down his moment. I guess it's also what good preachers do every week, isn't it?

"Noticing the present", i.e. cultural studies, is still the redheaded stepchild in many academic circles. Heh, just as English lit. was a hundred years ago. I've been talking over email with quinara about ways of conceptualizing Greek and Roman Studies. You can talk about studying a literary "tradition", which supposes a hierarchy with Homer et al at the top, or you can talk about "reception studies", which emphasizes responses to and reimaginings of the classics, but which, as a term, is still problematically passive. Quin's interested in looking at possible contemporary equivalents of the epic form — "Where did epic go?" essentially. One of her answers is, "Well, how about serialized television?"

Er. If I had a point when I started, I seem to have lost it. Something about, "When you think you have nothing new to say, just bash open the limits of what's acceptable to talk about"? Or something. *g* /ramble

So on the one hand, I feel intimidated by T. S. Eliot. But then I think about T. S. Eliot on El Jay, looking at Milton macros which say, “I have a Lucifer; your argument is invalid!” And T. S. Eliot sort of shuffles and thinks, “Aw, Milton, my argument totally is invalid! I’ll just erase my post now.”

I ♥ you. You're getting metaquoted.

So, do you feel the intimidation thing?

Augh. I haven't read enough, I have nothing new, I have nothing amazing. I'm (slowly) learning not even to let myself consider whether these are true, but to just yell, "Imposter Syndrome!" and smack it down. I have the luxury of doing that, not being a professional academic shooting for tenure track. If my ideas aren't dazzling, my career isn't hinging on them.

On LJ?

Oh, oh, this ties in with a post on gazes I keep meaning to write. I feel like a few years ago, there was a ton of fannish meta on fanfic and slash and whatnot taking Hollywood's male gaze and chucking it out the window and doing our own gazing. But lately I feel like we're not cowed by Hollywood, but by each other! We're afraid the Acafans (booga booga) are staring at us; we're afraid Metafandom is judging both our meta and our squee, because we're unwittingly redundant, or ignorant, or ass-showing. We're way more conscious of being looked at these days. It's weird. I'm sure it's not universally true; it's not even true for me, much, but I've observed it out and about. Hm. Have you?

In writing?

I barrel on. I post stories I know aren't perfect, I cringe and resign myself to cringing. I keep trying. Most days, I'm here to learn, not here to impress, so it works out.

In real life?

If by real life, you mean career...still workin' on that.

Do you think about someone who inspires you, or does that make it worse? Who/what is it that intimidates you?

Nobody in fandom intimidates me. This is because I've approached all the people who might do so and started conversations with them, and they've all turned out to be variations on bouncy, enthused, generous and adorable. I don't care if I'm not as smart as some of them. That's just reality.

When I'm writing fic, I do think about who I want to be as good as, and which aspects of their talent I can match, and that inspires me.

What do you want to do with your life, anyway?

Fart around, write something neat, and inspire somebody else to write something neat. It's already happened. Next up: write something NEATER!

[gaudy-night.livejournal.com]

So, do you feel the intimidation thing?

Oh, absolutely. The need to impress runs deep within me. Sometimes I wonder if it's a side effect of my parents' divorce. To be good enough, to become indispensable -- it fits the profile, doesn't it.

To this day, I'm still trying to find a way to get past this without picking up cynicism along the way.

But yes, I did have a similar moment when I read Descartes. I was *stunned* by how deeply the man thought. For the first time I realized we read about these men hundreds of years later because they were indeed Great Thinkers. I stand in awe.

As an aside, as I continue to 'grow up', I find myself admiring more and more, people who do whatever the hell they want to do. There'll always be critics -- accurate or otherwise. But why let other people tie up your hands?

[deathmask-revel.livejournal.com]

I get terrifyingly intimidated--especially around folks like you and K and S, because your brains all work so differently from mine that I can't even comprehend thinking about ~thinking about the things you...think about. I don't analyze things as quickly or in the same ways that I remember you all doing, so I never wanted to watch movies with you guys and stuff, I never engaged much in conversation because I couldn't keep up in the same ways and of course, eventually, I kind of just felt like I should just hide down in my hole there and stay away.

So yes. Intimidation about being pointless for me reaches crippling and life-changing levels.

[rahirah]

I'm not sure I feel intimidated so much as irrelevant.

[dlgood.livejournal.com]

Oh, I recognize the feeling of irrelevance Rahirah mentions. But I'm also pretty fatalistic - nobody is ever really going to solve The Big Quandaries - so I can feel that it's a valid exercise to just mentally work them out yourself even if you're treading on old ground. Most of the discussions I enter are really about things percolating in my head than anything on the page...

[incasink.livejournal.com]

I love it when I find I think i'm asking a new question thats been asked before. That means at that point in time... someone had the same brain as me. makes me think!

[nixve.livejournal.com]

I completely feel the intimidation thing.
However, now I am armed with your wonderful image of T.S. Eliot on El Jay and I feel that'll help. :)