Thanks again Joan for another thought provoking post. I have recently been considering what is it that I would even want from a relationship with another person (if I were the sort to be in search of a life partner) and in my thoughts I tell myself it would be okay if it were okay simply to be open about the care one wants to provide for another. But then I am unsure that it is okay to sincerely care. By "care" I mean to be invested in the happiness or well-being of another in a way that puts forth effort. And that brings me to your little question about Why is the poster with the man in it on sale, and not the one with the woman. Well, please forgive my reach but it is not a very popular idea in this country that a man should be happy. (At least not that a dog or a beach or a guitar should be the cause of such a feeling.) Sometimes it feels like he cannot even smile in public spaces or express emotion beyond immediate desire. Not to discount all the men and other individuals in this world who seem to do just fine caring about all manner of happiness from their kids to their community. But I suppose there's only so much one can glean from one image on a search result. And I don't imagine that poster rushing off the shelf from any warehouse at any price.
Berhan, your truly thoughtful response to this post is so interesting to me, especially because I know you personally--I hope we can talk about this sometime soon. First of all, I can't imagine that any kind of sincere caring for one or more others could work against living happily ever after--unless the caregiver were spread so thin that he couldn't provide sufficient care where he'd promised to, or he denied himself the pleasure and happiness of letting someone else care for him, or just plain delight in him. All caring is meaningful, and happily ever after, in my book, depends on meaningful--even, I think, in the kingdom of Winshire.
Your comments about whether men is this country should be happy is something I'd never thought about. Makes me hope that you'll start a Substack newsletter that provides a place to explore it. So what should be the causes of a man's happiness? Who and/or what is controlling, or at least strongly affecting what kinds of happiness men can express and how? On my FB page, I recently asked people about reading vs. listening to books. Research shared yesterday on NPR that said 40% of Americans think listening to books isn't reading them, then further said of the 40%, "It's older people over age 65, it's men, and it's those without a four-year degree that are more likely to say that listening to audiobooks isn't a form of reading." I don't know how to make sense of it, but I wonder if it's connected to what you're saying about men, some of the pressures they may be feeling, and acceptable expressions of happiness. Thanks, Berhan, for getting me thinking--and for being a man who's willing to talk about this.
In my book group they typically do some hybrid of reading and listening. I've learned that it does not matter how one enjoys a story of they want to engage with it with others and that is really a joy of having a book group. So although I believe reading is reading and listening is listening, also, enjoying is enjoying.
And oh that there were such a place to explore such topics as books, happiness, manhood! Oy!
Thank you for this blog, Joan! Lots to think about. One of the things that struck me about your blog is the importance of context and how the surrounding culture and values have forced changes in interpretations of what “living happily ever after” means. Coincidentally, I have been working on a long put-off quilt centered around fairy tales; not the amended Disney versions of the stories but the originals – both of which I grew up with. You sent me back to my copy of Bruno Bettleheim’s book, The Uses of Enchantment. He contends that fairy tales helped children to go from childhood to adulthood, learning lessons about “justice, fidelity, love, and courage” as well as conveying warnings about the fearsome consequences of the temptations of adulthood. It’s making me think more about Disney’s versions, and the original story-tellers’ versions: What are they conveying? How do they shape the thinking of their audiences? What do the stories tell us about who we were then and now? Thank you for stretching my thinking….it will end up in my quilt somewhere.
Hi, Meg--I'm so glad my blog sent you back to Bettelheim (and I'm also excited that you're quilting again). Talk about American--leave it to Disney to reflect culture and even to change it. I'll be excited to see your quilt, however it reflects your thinking as it's shaped by my blog and God knows what else as you keep working on it. Thanks for reading and letting me know that I got you thinking!
Now there's a thought, Scott. As I wrote this post, being as I married you in midlife but you weren't my first "boyfriend," I wondered a lot about how the relationships I never had but wanted, didn't quite have, had but briefly, and had for too long contributed to my belief that you were "the one." So your question about happiness's being a summation of all before it, or at least a significant reflection of what preceded it, is really interesting. So does "And they lived happily ever after" also an expression of "what more is there that needs to be said?" I hope others offer their thoughts about this.
I think sometimes so great a question can feel like a conversation in itself. Like, Is happiness a summation of all before it? Well not if you are a lover, or an infant, or some other new experience which impresses some threshold of happiness.
Your comment about "new experiences" is so important, especially the ones that are universally defined as beginnings. And on the other hand, there's that T.S. Eliot line from the Four Quartets ("East Coker"), which again pulls us not only toward personal experience, shared and individual, but toward the spiritual contexts on which so many rely to make sense of it, or, perhaps I should say, live with mortality, which "ever after" seems both to embrace and to resist: "In my beginning is my end."
Thanks again Joan for another thought provoking post. I have recently been considering what is it that I would even want from a relationship with another person (if I were the sort to be in search of a life partner) and in my thoughts I tell myself it would be okay if it were okay simply to be open about the care one wants to provide for another. But then I am unsure that it is okay to sincerely care. By "care" I mean to be invested in the happiness or well-being of another in a way that puts forth effort. And that brings me to your little question about Why is the poster with the man in it on sale, and not the one with the woman. Well, please forgive my reach but it is not a very popular idea in this country that a man should be happy. (At least not that a dog or a beach or a guitar should be the cause of such a feeling.) Sometimes it feels like he cannot even smile in public spaces or express emotion beyond immediate desire. Not to discount all the men and other individuals in this world who seem to do just fine caring about all manner of happiness from their kids to their community. But I suppose there's only so much one can glean from one image on a search result. And I don't imagine that poster rushing off the shelf from any warehouse at any price.
-Berhan
Berhan, your truly thoughtful response to this post is so interesting to me, especially because I know you personally--I hope we can talk about this sometime soon. First of all, I can't imagine that any kind of sincere caring for one or more others could work against living happily ever after--unless the caregiver were spread so thin that he couldn't provide sufficient care where he'd promised to, or he denied himself the pleasure and happiness of letting someone else care for him, or just plain delight in him. All caring is meaningful, and happily ever after, in my book, depends on meaningful--even, I think, in the kingdom of Winshire.
Your comments about whether men is this country should be happy is something I'd never thought about. Makes me hope that you'll start a Substack newsletter that provides a place to explore it. So what should be the causes of a man's happiness? Who and/or what is controlling, or at least strongly affecting what kinds of happiness men can express and how? On my FB page, I recently asked people about reading vs. listening to books. Research shared yesterday on NPR that said 40% of Americans think listening to books isn't reading them, then further said of the 40%, "It's older people over age 65, it's men, and it's those without a four-year degree that are more likely to say that listening to audiobooks isn't a form of reading." I don't know how to make sense of it, but I wonder if it's connected to what you're saying about men, some of the pressures they may be feeling, and acceptable expressions of happiness. Thanks, Berhan, for getting me thinking--and for being a man who's willing to talk about this.
In my book group they typically do some hybrid of reading and listening. I've learned that it does not matter how one enjoys a story of they want to engage with it with others and that is really a joy of having a book group. So although I believe reading is reading and listening is listening, also, enjoying is enjoying.
And oh that there were such a place to explore such topics as books, happiness, manhood! Oy!
"Enjoying is enjoying"--I am going to remember this, and hope others who ask the kinds of questions I'm asking do, too!
Thank you for this blog, Joan! Lots to think about. One of the things that struck me about your blog is the importance of context and how the surrounding culture and values have forced changes in interpretations of what “living happily ever after” means. Coincidentally, I have been working on a long put-off quilt centered around fairy tales; not the amended Disney versions of the stories but the originals – both of which I grew up with. You sent me back to my copy of Bruno Bettleheim’s book, The Uses of Enchantment. He contends that fairy tales helped children to go from childhood to adulthood, learning lessons about “justice, fidelity, love, and courage” as well as conveying warnings about the fearsome consequences of the temptations of adulthood. It’s making me think more about Disney’s versions, and the original story-tellers’ versions: What are they conveying? How do they shape the thinking of their audiences? What do the stories tell us about who we were then and now? Thank you for stretching my thinking….it will end up in my quilt somewhere.
Hi, Meg--I'm so glad my blog sent you back to Bettelheim (and I'm also excited that you're quilting again). Talk about American--leave it to Disney to reflect culture and even to change it. I'll be excited to see your quilt, however it reflects your thinking as it's shaped by my blog and God knows what else as you keep working on it. Thanks for reading and letting me know that I got you thinking!
An interesting discussion of happiness.
What does it mean that this sentence, in all its variations, always begins with "and?" Is happiness a summation of all before it?
Scott K.
Now there's a thought, Scott. As I wrote this post, being as I married you in midlife but you weren't my first "boyfriend," I wondered a lot about how the relationships I never had but wanted, didn't quite have, had but briefly, and had for too long contributed to my belief that you were "the one." So your question about happiness's being a summation of all before it, or at least a significant reflection of what preceded it, is really interesting. So does "And they lived happily ever after" also an expression of "what more is there that needs to be said?" I hope others offer their thoughts about this.
I think sometimes so great a question can feel like a conversation in itself. Like, Is happiness a summation of all before it? Well not if you are a lover, or an infant, or some other new experience which impresses some threshold of happiness.
Your comment about "new experiences" is so important, especially the ones that are universally defined as beginnings. And on the other hand, there's that T.S. Eliot line from the Four Quartets ("East Coker"), which again pulls us not only toward personal experience, shared and individual, but toward the spiritual contexts on which so many rely to make sense of it, or, perhaps I should say, live with mortality, which "ever after" seems both to embrace and to resist: "In my beginning is my end."