I've been having a
thought-provoking conversation with a good friend over the past few days. It
started with a Facebook status in which I wrote, "Often times we cling to destructive worldviews and values
because they were taught to us by people we love, or because we came to those
conclusions during especially significant times of our lives. Changing our
values can either feel like betraying those who instilled them in us, or
admitting that a dramatic change was pointless and that we struggled all for
nothing. To deconstruct harmful mindsets, it's important to be able to
acknowledge that our teachers were flawed and to see that it's not an act
of disloyalty to admit it. It also helps to recognize that the struggle wasn't
pointless just because it didn't lead to a permanent conclusion. A belief
system or way of life could have been meant for you, even if not meant for you
permanently. Even a destructive one can lead to a deeper understanding if
you're able to extricate yourself from it and try to help others untangle
themselves along the way. The fact that it never stops evolving makes it all
the more meaningful."
My friend Victoria responded that
she relates to that because she has felt a profound bond to certain authors and
philosophers over the years, and has come to a point of disillusionment with
some of them. There are ones she still loves but no longer admires on account
of the fact that they express some ideas she finds short sighted, if not
downright troubling. She said she has come to the same conclusion about many
people she currently cares about, or has previously loved, in real life.
I told her that I know what she
means about loving certain writers and thinkers without admiring them, and how
that also relates to individuals she personally knows. This doesn't mean that
authors aren't real, but those we only know from their work do seem to take on
the quality of a novel's protagonist—or antagonist, at times. The way I see it
is that genuine love not only allows us to see another's flaws, but requires
it. I think it's not possible to fully love somebody unless we have a realistic
understanding of who they are. If not, we just adore an ideal we created. An
ideal, essentially, of what we ourselves wish to be. Even if an author seems
almost fictional themselves, a reader can know and care for that writer even
more wholly than they love people whose faults they cannot see.
Victoria replied that we can definitely
see somebody's flaws without loving them for who they are, but for what they
inspire in ourselves. She said she thinks it's possible to recognize an author
"more deeply through their work than through the everyday interaction and
persona people hide behind."
I told her I agree. One can see another's faults without
feeling any attachment to them. I just mean that I don't think it's possible to
love someone genuinely and completely without seeing their flaws along with
their wonderful qualities. Feeling loyalty to and affection for someone because
you think they're perfect is always a letdown, and can lead to a devastating
sense of disillusionment once you see they're not faultless. You can then learn
to love them in a new way that allows room to acknowledge their flaws, but not
everybody can do it. In that sense, such a type of bond can be very fragile. It
reminds me of the way that fundamentalist religious beliefs are so brittle,
because they rely entirely on the assumption that every single tenet of the
faith, or an ancient text, is flawless and immutable. Then if the
fundamentalist starts to see cracks in the structure, the whole thing will come
crumbling down instead of stretching to make room for fallibility.
Also, I agree with Victoria's
belief that love can exist without reciprocity. It has certainly inspired many
of the writers whom we, as readers, feel that sense of non-reciprocated love
for. But maybe they did, and do, love their audiences. They may not have been
writing for specific people, but they care deeply about their readers
altogether. They want to offer sustenance, and can only hope it's able to
nourish and provide.
