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Saturday 30 June 2007

Mea culpa....

I have had a remarkable insight into one of my failings.

(Well, only remarkable in that it took it so long to sing into the lump of pudding I laughably call my "brain.")

In common with many Vices, its longevity is a result of my having mistaken it for a Virtue.

It takes two different forms, and it took me far to long to see that they were related.

To whit -- when I give someone a compliment, or agree with a position expressed, I like to establish my bona fides regarding sincerity by pairing it with a less flattering assessment of some other aspect of what is under discussion or making the complement less than perfectly fulsome; and in the case of agreement, by describing the position of disagreement, from which benighted realms I have been delivered by new found opinion.

Why has it taken me so long to realize that THIS DOES NOT WORK?

Many years ago, Himself was falling into despair about his own ability and self-worth as it was connected to his abilities.

No, no, no, I assured him, you are a fine singer, the best singer in this entire cast! And you have a fine, beautiful voice, a gorgeous voice, why, of all these people, all this talent, only that chubby mezzo in the chorus has a prettier voice!

Why did I not learn my lesson from his silence? No one wants such honesty.

No one believes you the better for not exaggerating. No one has an aversion to "Green Room Perjury." (Except, oddly, me.)

Actors all laugh at the ubiquitous civilian compliment -- "I saw the original on B'way with Lunt and Fonteyn, and this was better!" (Daniel Marcus joked that at the premier of a play in Florida about the Kennedy assassination someone would come up and say, "I saw the original on TV with Jack Ruby and this was better!")
But they want it and they believe it.

Now, I am vastly in the minority -- I remember going on for another actress, and the family of my leading man naively (in the view of most actors,) telling me what he had said, that he was so glad, I wasn't as good a singer, but I caught the style of the music better, and I was so much a better actress and captured the character so much better that it transformed the show, as well as made it easier for him and everyone else in the cast to play their parts.

I was thrilled. I took it as the finest kind of compliment as it was so clear-eyed. But he was so chagrined he couldn't stop apologizing.

And people were horrified when I repeated the story (no names mentioned,) they couldn’t believe it hadn't upset me, couldn't believe that I was flattered, that I took the willingness to offer criticism as proof positive of the unimpeachable sincerity of the praise.

And it's not because I don't have an ego.

I don't believe I am not good just because someone else doesn't think so, I don't worry that when someone wins a role I should have had that it's because she is actually better, (although I think I can also recognize when that is precisely the case.)

How good would I be, could I ever hope to be if I deluded myself that I was "the best."
At anything?

But I amvastly in the minority.

Now, this all applies to the week I have just spent, because of the journey on which I have come, (or rather, journeys,) regarding the state of the Church liturgy and liturgical music (and many other matters, as well, home schoolers, proponents of square notes, among others,) and the places where I have arrived.

I naively thought it would be reassuring and instructive to someone with whom one utterly and whole-heartedly agreed to be told how drastically and why one used to disagree, and how one came around.

Not so.

Now, partly, this is the fault of my own loud-mouthedness.
I never murmur that I used to disagree, and diffidently whisper that now I see the truth of that which they espouse.

No, no, I have to shout about how virulently I used to believe that everyone on their "side" was barking mad, and wing-nuts, or utterly misinformed, or precious ivory-tower dwellers... and now aren't you glad that I done seen the light??!?&?#??

And no, they never are glad.

I must be different from most people in that regard.

Ah, well....
Let's see how long I can remember this lesson.

(On a related matter, not everyone enjoys snarky teasing as I do, or, for instance, mention of something I find charming and of which I utterly approve, but which someone else might criticize. I was just telling Himself, f'rinstance, that Fr Weber has a great sense of humor, but perhaps I shouldn't have referred to him elsewhere online as a Saint in Crocs.)

(And there's probably a joke to be made about Discalced, and DisCroced, but I can't quite figure what it would be...)

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