I go a few steps out there and then come back to assess if I am following the correct path and sign posts -(for) the 23 Things program. Very typically for me, I often throw the rule book out as I loathe convention and adherence to formality.
However, to complete task four, I can report I have many favourite blogs, some of which I have included in my feed reader.
I enjoy reading the blogs of political writers in the newspapers. I agree wholeheartedly with Dana's comment that we should educate ourselves by reading other people's views. This is very much the case for me, especially when I am in total disagreement. How can we believe in what we do, without knowing how deeply we believe? I really love seeing views parallel to mine in news blogs, principally because they are usually much better argued than the opposite point of view (to mine).
My reading constantly reinforces this. I am reading a book* set in the beginning of last century at the time of the decline of the Ottoman Empire and the WW1, from the "other side's" view point. Gallipoli is covered from the Ottoman point of view- featuring Attaturk, the founder of modern Turkey. I would recommend everyone should read about battles from the "enemy's" side. The same goes for any deep disagreement: learn about the other side and hone your own arguments better. Or better still, you may even change your mind!
Back to reading other blogs and commenting, I do this regularly and have picked up marvellous insights.
"Birds without Wings" by Louis De Bernieres: http://www.librarything.com/work/2375/book/21930564
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Hi Sara
Thank you for commenting so regularly on my blog. Your remarks are always thoughtful and meticulously argued.
As I think I mentioned to you, I am reading Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones at the moment. I absolutely love it, and can't wait to pick it up every morning and evening on the train to/fro work.
I mention this because the book is written from the perspective of a 14 year-old victim of rape and murder, which is understandably tragic. However, it is not depressing, nor is it alien or uncomfortable for readers to be inside the victim's head. Her anger at her needless death, and her desire to see her killer caught and her family's life returned to some semblance of normality closely aligns with our desire to see a vicious criminal caught and a young girl's death avenged.
What is not so comfortable is what happens when the narrator looks into the life of her murderer, and finds a place not only for hatred but for an explanation of his motives. We see him carefully rehearsing appropriate social behaviour by day, and enjoying his trophies and spoils by night. This is something that is very hard to take; it's not a position in which one likes to find oneself.
This is similar to your situation on reading books that portray wars from the perspective of what you have always been taught to believe is 'the enemy'. Particularly in the case of WWI, it's sobering to realise that soldiers on both sides were equally young, full of misguided national pride, and expendable to their leaders.
The notion of seeing crime (or arguably war) from both sides was interestingly pursued on last week's episode of Compass, which was the final of a trilogy set in an abbey. While most of us can't fathom feeling compassion for a paedophile, the nun interviewed was explaining that it is part of her role to consider both ends of the spectrum - the hunter and the prey. This was a notion that the ordinary women visiting the abbey couldn't swallow; we are not conditioned to deal with this.
Post a Comment