The Consolations of Reading

I want to address the role of culture, and specifically literature, in bringing comfort and solace to people (specifically me, since this is, well, my personal blog).

I read literature, the so called “classics”, because they hold within them kernels of wisdom. The edges of those pages are dotted with my annotations and notes. I find little bits of advice that resonate something important. I can read a book different times and in different moods and find that the meaning changes, what I find was previously overlooked.

This quote I particularly liked from Aldous Huxley’s The Genius and the Goddess, “That’s our ironic fate—to have Shakespearean feelings and (unless by some billion-to-one chance we happen to be Shakespeare) to talk about them like automobile salesmen or teen-agers or college professors” (pg 47, Huxley, Harper Perennial). I think this is true enough, to say something obvious. We often grapple with complex feelings and have only clichéd avenues of expressing them.

This is why I am partial to another de Botton quote from The Consolations of Philosophy:

“It is tempting to quote authors when they express our very own thoughts but with a clarity and psychological accuracy we cannot match. They know us better than we know ourselves. What is shy and confused in us is succinctly and elegantly phrased in them, our pencil lines and annotations in the margins of their books and our borrowings from them indicating where we find a piece of ourselves, a sentence or two built of the very substance of which our own minds are made” (pg 161, de Botton, Vintage).

These are a few reasons I enjoy reading. I find scattered pieces of myself and others I know in the works of those far brighter than I, and far older. Like those who look up to the sky and know how small they truly are, so too does literature and philosophy remind me how little I really know.

Do you have a favorite quote or book? Please share it with me.

Edinburgh Bluez Cruize, 2011

Following my trend of dance posts, I decided to mock up a video of the blues exchange I went to last summer in Edinburgh, Scotland. It was the Edinburgh Bluez Cruize, still one of my favorite exchanges. It was my first exchange since WCLX 2010, the previous year.

I met a lot of great people who reminded me why I should get back to dancing. I do in some sense owe them for the fantastic weekend I had in Ann Arbor.

Edinburgh Bluez Cruize 2011 from Ross Blythe on Vimeo.

Pirate Swing: The Rundown

I didn’t want this blog to be a diary, but I do want to mention my weekend and how it fit in with some thoughts of mine.

As I mentioned in my last post (http://rethinkmundane.blogspot.com/2012/03/meaningful-calendar-years-dancing.html) dancers often travel to other cities for workshops, social exchanges, etc, to meet new people and improve their dancing (or just party, because, well, do that, too). I had the opportunity to do all three this past weekend by going to Pirate Swing in Ann Arbor, MI. It was a five-hour drive from where I live to the event. I was fortunate to have a great traveling companion who put up with my pseudo-lectures about music, dancing, relationships, and secular life (she was of my basic metaphysical persuasion, so it was a comfortable topic).

Upon arrival, Friday, we jumped right into a class on socially acceptable ways to lift a partner in a dance. Immediately following we jumped into three hours of life music, then one hour of late night blues. Tired, we went back to our host’s house to sleep and clean up for the rest of the weekend: the workshop portion.

In the morning I tried out for the advanced track classes. I was excited to make it in, on the last dance no less. The advanced classes were, well, advanced! Even if I remembered only one thing from each class, I feel I became a much better dancer than before the class. For that day, Saturday, I took over 6 hours of classes, followed by 6 hours of dancing in the evening.

For Saturday evening we were graced by the music of Christabel and the Jons (http://christabelmusic.com/). I highly recommend this band, especially for their blues songs. Also, because it was Pirate Swing, there were people dancing in pirate costumes, some more functional for dancing than others. One of my favorite dances of the evening came at about 3am, to “O Mary Don’t You Weep”, the cover by Bruce Springsteen. But I can honestly say I didn’t have a bad dance the entire weekend. Everyone was wonderful. The people were fantastic.

Sunday was our last class, followed by dancing at Guy Hollerin’, food, drink, and dancing. I can’t think of a better combination. Unless it is food, drink, dancing, and good company to do it with. There was a Sunday late night party with blues and booze. It was a great way to unwind after a tiring but amazing weekend. I was reminded of why I love dancing in the first place and why I need to travel more than I do.

Another lesson we seculars can learn from religious calendars: the weekly stuff can get boring, but every now and then there is a festival occasion that reminds us why we stick around. Pirate Swing felt like one long party, even when it was work, because we love what we do. Dancing isn’t why I breathe, but it sure helps.

Meaningful Calendar Years: Dancing, Mostly

Given my recent reflections on secular life and its relation to religion, I began thinking about the parallels between dancing and religion. One of my earlier posts was Alain de Botton’s talk at TED Edinburgh on secular religion (watch it http://rethinkmundane.blogspot.com/2012/02/alain-de-botton-atheism-20.html) and certain aspects of religion that secular people can learn from. An idea I’ve been thinking about is a Secular ‘Liturgical’ calendar. The idea is that a secular ‘religion’ would have a calendar that directed thought towards various important topics or ideas at points throughout the year. What kinds of festivals would a secular religion that values inquiry, rational thought, and humanism have? I don’t have an answer, but I’d like to pursue this line of thought with someone.

But this brought me to dancing, specifically swing and blues dancing, and how our dance calendars can be like liturgical calendars. I have weekly meetings with my dance club, something like ‘worship’ where we all gather together to dance. We have weekly lessons that meet outside of the larger community togetherness time (sort of like Bible study). And we have pilgrimages. We travel; at least the more devout of us do, to other cities, sometimes other countries (Herrang Dance Camp is like our Mecca http://www.herrang.com/) to see other dancers in other dance halls, sometimes repeatedly, year after year. It becomes tradition to go certain places at certain times of year.

There are even orthodoxies and unorthodoxies in swing dance. For Lindy Hop, there are straight Lindy Hoppers…and then there are people like me who like their Lindy a little less fundamentalist and a little more playful. And with Charleston it can be the same thing. Even in blues there is a strict interpretation of what is acceptable practice and what is not.

Like a church, mosque, or synagogue, dancing fosters a community with similar, if not always the same, values and outlook. We differ in a lot of ways, us dancers, but we do share in basic loves of movement and music. And with our schedules we are oriented towards thinking about what we enjoy doing, where we enjoy dancing, and who we enjoy dancing with, whether they be Balboa or Blues, Lindy Hop or Charleston, or if we’re the Unitarian Universalists of swing, Fusion.

And we need this is the secular world, or at least I think we do. I have a framework like that in dancing, but it’s not true that every person who is nontheistic is a dancer, and every dancer doesn’t necessarily engage in the dance calendar (think Easter Catholics, and I can make that joke because I used to be Catholic). My musings on that will follow soon.

So if dancing can be a religion, I wonder if I can put that on the next census.