Wednesday book meme thing, new job edition

[missroserose]

As of this morning, I have completed all paperwork, meetings, studio walkthroughs, and desk shifts required...and as of Monday, I'll be teaching my first yoga class! (My first two yoga classes, actually, since I picked up a sub that evening.) Earlier in the week, I was anxious bordering on terrified; after some breathing and journaling and other anxiety-acceptance measures, I'm feeling at least a little more sanguine about it. The manager at the studio has been super chill and supportive, including responding promptly and positively to my numerous emails about questions and small administrative details. And no matter how badly I screw up, I know I'm not going to be as bad as The Worst C1. (I don't think I ever wrote about it here; suffice it to say, the girl barely moved from the back of the classroom the whole time, she didn't touch anyone, she spoke in a soft near-monotone that sounded for all the world like she was reciting a memorized script, and her whole playlist was atonal noise rock, including savasana (?!). At the very least, I know I have a better playlist.) But there's still a lot of anxiety for me in getting up and being open (and thus, to a degree, vulnerable) with a whole group of people, for a whole class. Which, I suppose, is a sign it'll be a good learning experience, too.

Anyway, onto the book stuff!

What I've just finished reading

*hangs head* I have not finished anything this week, either. I strongly suspect I'm letting my anxiety occupy too many emotional cycles; I've noticed that I tend toward obsessive behaviors when it gets going - refreshing social media, occupying myself with ticky administrative details, looking over my calendar repeatedly, etc. (Why, yes, I do have a family history of obsessive-compulsive disorder, how did you guess?) It's surprising, how much time and energy it takes to be anxious. Anyway, I'm working on it.

What I'm reading now

The Yiddish Policemen's Union, by Michael Chabon. Dialect or no, I've been finding myself wishing that I was reading a physical copy of this book; Peter Riegert is turning in a perfectly decent performance, but there are so many wonderful descriptions and delightful turns of phrase that I really want to savor but that just go by too quickly. I finally have taken to using a combination of Audible's "bookmark" feature and (for ones I think Brian will enjoy) transcribing and texting them to preserve their ephemerality: "the sudden awareness, like an inverse satori, that he has made a grave, if not fatal error...his jaws snap together, making each tooth ring out with its own pure tone as the impact of his ass against the ground conducts its Newtonian business with the rest of his skeleton." "The winter sky in southeastern Alaska is a Talmud of grey, an inexhaustible commentary on a Torah of rain clouds and dying light." "They all looked shocked; even Gould, who could have happily read a comic book by the light of a burning man."

For all the lighthearted metaphor, there's a very real atmosphere of melancholy and uncertainty in this story; not grief, precisely, but the recognition of opportunities missed, the sense of having taken a wrong turn somewhere without knowing precisely what it was. Perhaps this is appropriate to a tale of Jewish culture, even alternate-universe Jewish culture; I know it probably resonates with me more now, at this point in American history, than it likely would have even a year or two ago.

I'm a bit torn on the worldbuilding; there are hints of a broader global alt-history stemming from the decision to relocate Jews to Southeast Alaska instead of Israel, but whether due to my personal ignorance of world/Jewish history or simply to the fact that it all goes by a bit too quickly in audio format, I'm having trouble piecing together exactly what's different from our more recent history. That said, the tensions and troubles and cliques and feuds and foibles of this particular group in this time that never existed are beautifully rendered. The plot is mostly pretty standard religious-political-conspiracy stuff, and it moves a bit slowly, but one gets the feeling it's more of an excuse to spend time in this world and with these characters, and said characters are entertaining and well-drawn enough to be worth the investment. I'm wondering how it'll wrap up; the themes don't point for a truly happy ending, and neither does the alt-history-noir setup, but given the effort they're putting in to untangling this mess, I suspect Landsman and Berko will pull at least "bittersweet".

all about love, by bell hooks. This week's chapter is on community, and the importance thereof in giving us a place to practice love, especially for those of us raised in unloving and dysfunctional family situations. I've long been a proponent of making community connections a bigger part of our lives - it's something that doesn't get a lot of emphasis in our mainstream culture, with its deleterious emphasis on the nuclear family as the social unit uber alles - but I'm not sure I agree with her framing. She seems to come from a place of fundamental certainty that everyone participates in a community in good faith; thus, she believes that, while distancing is sometimes necessary, there is no reason to ever cut ties with a person; everyone can and will change for the better when presented with evidence of the hurtfulness of their actions. She cites one friend in particular whose family was incredibly hurtful towards her when she came out as a lesbian; apparently after some years, their attitudes changed and they were able to have a worthwhile relationship.

Obviously, I have a lot of issues with this paradigm. I'm all for giving people the benefit of the doubt; we're all human, we all make mistakes. But she seems to be falling headlong into several common social fallacies; the fact is, there are drama queens, and missing stairs, and other individuals that a community is better off without. Setting boundaries with these people, and actively limiting your social interactions with them, is a net social positive - not only because it increases your happiness, but because limited options due to social censure is its own lesson. I'm more torn on the question of whether they can learn; presumably, we need to give people the benefit of the doubt in order for them to learn, but based on my past experiences, I have a very difficult time trusting that someone with an established pattern of behavior will have any desire to change, let alone gain the self-awareness to do so. I'm sure it can happen, but I have a hard time trusting that it is what's going on in any given situation - especially when it's so much easier to claim you're trying to change without actually, y'know, doing any of the work. Maybe this is a reflection on me and my trust issues more than on anything inherent to humanity, I don't know.

What I plan to read next

Back before I put a moratorium on new book-buying, I had pre-ordered Cherie Priest's new book Brimstone, which just arrived in the mail. I have a feeling my to-read shelf is going to go neglected in my next selection...

Comments

[osprey_archer]

Maybe I have trust issues too, because I also feel doubtful about the possibility of people changing very much, especially if they're on the high end of the toxic spectrum. Even if they do feel a genuine desire to change - which, as you say, is a big if - and if they're also willing to put in the work to try to make that desire a reality, which is also a big if - it's very hard to change deeply ingrained pattern of behavior. I don't necessarily want to be the poor shlubb who suffers through someone's first attempts to be a decent human being, you know?

[missroserose]

You are singing my song. :) As I've reflected on more than one occasion, it's interesting that the primary career fields I'm in - yoga and massage - are full of "I want to heal the whole world" no-boundary types, whereas I, if anything, am much more on the "I'll be over here, and the world can be over *there*" end of the spectrum. I don't think it's bad that I am where I am - if anything, it's advantageous, since I get lots of practice at openness and vulnerability but have no problem setting boundaries where necessary - but it does make me a bit unusual.

All of which is to say, I'm basically right there with you. But some part of me feels that I can be too discerning; I grew up the socially awkward kid who was continually rejected/ostracized, and worked hard to learn to read people and situations and understand power dynamics and generally speak Human, albeit as a second language. It's weird to me to realize that, these days, I'm much more in the position of the ostracizer than the ostracized.

...you know, since this started as a discussion of books, I feel there's a pertinent quote - this one from Joe Abercrombie's excellently complex high fantasy Before They Are Hanged, where one of the main characters is a one-time POW who has taken a position as an Inquisitor, and is speaking with the head of a local merchant's guild:

“It still seems a strange decision, though, for the tortured to turn torturer."
"On the contrary, nothing could be more natural. In my experience, people do as they are done to. You were sold by your father and bought by your husband, and yet you choose to buy and sell.”

[alexmegami]

Hmmmm. I've been reading Grit by Angela Duckworth (I'm not done yet, but slowly... slowly... closing in on the end) and one thing she talks a lot about is the fixed vs. growth mindset, and in the context of family dynamics, the importance of warm, respectful parents, but also ones who have "demands" (which I think is maybe better read as expectations) - things like, they are encouraging and loving and treat you as a real human being with your own wants and needs, but they also don't just cave to your every whim, and they enforce the family rules.

Anyway, along this track, I wonder if the same can be said for relating to toxic people; people get the "warm and respectful" part of interacting with others generally, but seem to fall apart on the "demanding" anything of them. (i.e. "This behaviour is unacceptable to me, and a condition of our spending time together is that you not engage in it", but not actually enforcing it, or even directly saying such a thing.)

Also, hey, I'm finally doing my port-over. :/

[missroserose]

Yeah, I think you're onto something there. I suspect culture plays a role as well; some cultures even just here in the US are much more likely to be avoidant than others. Pacific Northwesterners have a reputation as being flaky that (in my experience) comes from a distinct people-pleasing streak, where it's much ruder to say no outright than it is to make vague assuring noises and then just never show. Whereas East Coasters are often thought to be pushy and rude, but (in my experience) tend to simply be more direct and defined in their boundaries. ("I need to know if you can make it so I can tell the caterer how many to prepare for", etc.)

I note that toxic people in many ways take advantage of our dislike of saying no. Obviously you can guard against that by being clear and strong in your own boundaries, but that unfortunately only leads to them finding the person who's *not* comfortable saying no, and preying on them. I know boundaries are a tricky subject, what with malleability and the complexity of sussing out where they are in the first place, but I still wish we had more cultural emphasis on their importance.

Hooray! Well, not hooray for the circumstances, but hooray, I'm happy that you're here. :) It feels like there are so few situations where refugees find a welcoming place with very similar expectations and mores to their homeland, haha.

[alexmegami]

*nod* The people for whom "let's get coffee sometime" is a pleasantry, versus "no, seriously, let's pull out our phones and figure out schedules". :)

Definitely with you there.

Hee. Maybe this effort will inspire me to start posting again. :P