Love or Something Like It: Burning Bright

One goal I had last summer that didn't pan out so well was to read more. This summer, I resolved not to let that opportunity pass again. Also, I'm really starved for book reports, I haven't written one in years (!!!).

As I am quite a fan of Steinbeck (East of Eden is my favourite novel), the first used bookstore I went into (which was in Berkeley) I picked up three of his novels. Burning Bright, Tortilla Flats, and Of Mice and Men somehow stood out to me among the rest of his offerings. Perhaps because of their length, or that they were in better condition than some of the others, but either way Steinbeck is appropriate given my current residence in California, albeit not in Salinas Valley.

First Up: Burning Bright was the only one before of which I had not heard (hm I guess forcing my prepositions not to be at the end of the sentence didn't work out so well there) so I decided to start with that one. It also had an intriguing, albeit dated, premise: a man is sterile, and his wife (arguably) loves him so much that she is willing to see another man in order to get pregnant so that he need not find out about his inability to sire. Steinbeck argues that the familial line is tantamount to immortality, or rather he argues that that is how it is perceived. Ultimately, he turns this notion on its head by the ...well the entire story is so short it's almost too difficult to break it into the usual pieces, so somewhere around the denouement or falling action (thank God this blog isn't being graded), when the novel closes on the novels tragic hero professing his love for this child who is biologically not his own.

Spoiler alert (really, who reads a Steinbeck novel for the twists? It's all about the analysis and commentary on the human condition-also, how can one possibly write a thorough analysis with spoilers?). Steinbeck managed to pleasantly surprise me this time around for the better. He typically adopts a commandeering and chauvinistic perspective in his writing, a wiser-than-thou and almost overtly didactic voice. In contrast to East of Eden, which faltered in its conclusion despite a strong lead-in (and I could write an entire post about my sympathy for Cathy and opposition to Steinbeck's portrayal of her character), Steinbeck here twists his characters for the better. Although the story ultimately hinges on the man and his needs, the female lead in this story exhibits greater emotional strength and a broader mind than he does, and is the strongest character in the novel.

The novel/play (Steinbeck attempts a new form, a pseudo-play that reads much more easily than reading a play, but also is less narrative and more explicit in its arguments than a novel) concludes on the theme of the meaning of love and the relationship between siring children and one's mortality. Although the means by which this happens in the novel need not even be considered in modern times, the concept is still relevant for all sorts of modern situations where a couple-or an individual-cannot have a child. This has been discussed far enough, so I'm going to skip that part here, but I do want to say that there is something both human and dehumanizing about the notion of reviewing a child before adoption (it makes sense logically/rationally, but at the same time I have a knee-jerk reaction to a non-random process. Is it better that the parent(s) pick a child that will best fit with him/her, or is in most need of adoption? this again is for a separate discussion).

What I found more intriguing about the novel was the topic of the limits of love, and what an individual will do in the name of it. The characters are one-dimensional in the typical Steinbeck fashion (of his novels I've read at least)-the story is about their world, not about them. They are very specifically vehicles for Steinbeck's central argument. As a result, we can forego any debate over the question of whether Maureen, the novels key protagonist (for me, her husband Joe Saul was secondary in nature) actually longed for an affair (something I found myself asking from the beginning, but this question was clearly answered in the negative by the end of the novel, trust me). So the question then, is whether her lie of love was the best decision to make, and whether we as the readers would ourselves have taken such measures for someone we love. At what point can an action be deemed blind love? Maureen ultimately is willing to do anything for Joe-give life, and take it away (she nearly murders the true father of the child in order to maintain her secret). But she does this all without his knowing, and thus his love for her, his love for himself, and his love for the child all become based on lies. He no longer loves her for all she is, he loves her for who he believes her to be, whom he believes himself to be. And that love is thus a lie, and hence eliminates the original justification for such as act (or at least, what would justify such an act in my opinion). It's a Catch-22 of sorts, that one should be willing to sacrifice one's integrity for true love, but that true love shouldn't require one to sacrifice one's integrity. And I don't believe that one can be in love with someone who is in love with that individual for what he is not. That is blind love, that is plain attachment and desperation. Different than a parent protecting a child, different than a friend protecting another friend. An old friend of mine once told me that the man is supposed to the be the rock in the relationship for the woman, and that remark [sic]. That is not a relationship, that is parenting. No one partner should have to provide such unbalanced support in a relationship. Hypocritically, I could see myself doing something as crazy for someone I love, but I would hope that we would respect one another enough to be able to tell one another the truth.

Out and About in San Francisco

Aside from more old history (think Europe) and less (fewer? well I guess I'm considering a hill as a continuous thing, so less hills could mean less steep hills) hills, San Francisco is shaping up to have just about anything I could want from a major city-great food, friendly people, cleanliness, throwbacks to the 50s, really nicely done tourist traps, liberals, prisses, and crazies running around in unusual garb (I guess I wasn't looking for that, but it's nice to know that there are people comfortable enough with themselves to do that).

Did I mention how much I love the 50s? San Francisco has awesome working streetcars (basically really old green line trains) that are a decent ride around, and always fun to watch driving by. Actually, the transit system, a network of Muni Buses, Muni Underground (a subway), the BART (another subway), the Streetcars and Trolleys can be daunting and rather confusing. At Fisherman's Wharf, the presence of the early 20th century lives on at the Musee Mechanique, probably my favourite site in the city, a collection of old arcade games. You know, where not everything was just another video screen, but a physically unique device.

I just bought a hardcover copy of The House of the Seven Gables (I love Hawthorne) from 1935 in a bookstore with handwritten labels on the bookshelves and little nooks and crannies with books stacked on the floor and all the good stuff for people who like to pretend once in a while that that sort of thing is actually appealing (which it is, in small doses), it's just not very efficient or effective, but sometimes that's not what one wants. This was a bookstore to explore. Actually, that's how I once found a book signed by Jimmy Carter for $1 back in Rockport. Such shops have such a feel of organic growth, in the way Boston's streets are much more enjoyable to wander than New York's.

Last Wednesday, I was on my way home from work and heard the cheerful sounds of salsa music drifting across the street. Turns out each Wednesday evening there is a free concert in Union Square. This particular concert was well attended, as multiple couples young and old danced uninhibited in the middle of the square.

This past weekend was the North Beach festival, a large two-day event filled with food, vendors, and publicly allowed drinking. While I had hoped for something really fun, this event turned out to be surprisingly disappointing, with more of shopping character than a fair or festival. Some bands were playing, but ultimately...I wouldn't recommend it unless you want to just people watch (which can be fun ;) ).

And now I'm off, to find some park or cafe to sit and read in. With weather in the mid-60s everyday, I can afford to walk around all day.

The Standard Deviation

So I was attempting to interpret some boring logs (double entendre) that I brought home but could barely understand them, so I decided to write a blog post instead.

"Normal" and "deviant." Pretty standard debate. What is normal right? Well, focusing on the concept of common "deviations" first, we can assign a normal distribution to certain social norms, or social behavior norms. This includes gender roles, ethnic identity, political leanings, sexual orientation, intelligence quotient (let's just assume that the IQ measuring system works for the purposes of this post). Because of the negative connotation of the word "deviant," I'll focus on the supposedly negative ends of the spectrum-the mentally retarded, the poor, the homo/bisexuals.

There may be more scientific terms for these things, but basically what I want to discuss is the theory that telling someone enough times that they are abnormal-a deviant-leads to "abnormal" and "deviant" behaviour. Like victims of domestic violence who no longer know how to function when they are removed from that environment, the manner in which individuals are raised obviously influences their behaviour. Kick someone enough times and they will go down. When people are forbidden from doing things in public, they will find ways to do them in private if they want to, but along the way will be presented with the opportunity to try things that extend beyond anything they originally intended. Homosexuality for example, and the underworlds that exist is some parts of the world (the US included) that some members of society are forced to become a part of, but which they had not had an intention of joining.

Then there is the issue of human talents and capabilities. While there certainly are limits to what we each can achieve (don't argue with me that there aren't, because there are-sorry), the power of positive thought and a supportive environment can do wonders. Abused children, for example, are less likely to succeed. I think this one is pretty obvious. Parents should challenge their children in a stimulating manner, but a rigid upbringing according to a set standard or list of rules stifles individual growth and creativity. Praise to those who can play beautiful symphonies, but there is a difference between successfully replicating the work of another and creating work of one's own, work that represents that individual and his or her view on the world.

Of course, some people use adversity to their advantage. This plays out better in some cases than others, but can partially explain some of the stereotypical "fabulousness" or "bling" associated with certain groups, a show-like ostentatiousness that proclaims, "If you think I'm inferior, screw you I'll do it better than you." While I think in some cases this is too readily apparent (nouveau riche), for the most part it's better than succombing to that yoke of inferiority society seeks to impart. Yes, spite again. How I love spite.

In terms of sexual deviation, I wanted to note that an old friend of mine and I long ago were discussing the pity we feel for pedophiles, cannibals, and other such people for whom we could never condone the actions of, yet at the same time understand that that those individuals cannot control their desires, and how unfortunate that they have such desires that cannot be fulfilled. Those individuals have to learn to cope with the fact that they in fact must control these desires and cannot submit to them.

The label deviant is one of those self-fulfilling prophecies, ultimately can end up creating the condition it seeks to diagnose. Applied in certain conditions, it does harm and creates an adverse environment not conducive to personal growth. Is that really the most effective way to improve society?

So I Guess the Fortune Teller's Right

I just read an interview with a former Navy submarine officer who is arguing that we should blow up the oil well. I don't really know the geology of that area or the dynamics of a system so far below the ocean surface, but I'd be interested to hear this fleshed out, along with an analysis of the possibility of it causing a much larger leak. Perhaps some research into the history of Russia's application of such techniques is in order.

But that's not the focus of this post. A few nights ago I had a dream about free frozen yogurt, only to wake up and find a groupon for froyo in my inbox. A week and a half ago, I got a fortune from a machine at the Musée Mécanique down at Fisherman's Wharf. It told me, "Have you been lonesome lately? I see your days of lonesomeness ending. The future holds a happy reunion with a loved one." The rest of the fortune was quite flattering, but the first part was the most important.

Enter Riley and Cathy! This past weekend marked the first post-work weekend in San Francisco, and I got to spend it with two friends from MIT, one a recent graduate and one working for Apple out in Cupertino (if you saw that facebook status, it was partially his idea).

We did the normal touring around, marching up and down hill after hill. And we then thought we'd end the day with another common activity-walking the Golden Gate Bridge. Well, it was sunset. It was beautiful. And then it was freezing. The wind had us hiding in the corners and any dead zone we could find to avoid the gusts of frigid wind blowing over the bridge. We arrived at the other side of the bridge only to find out that the buses had ceased for the day. Fortunately for us, we were able to get a ride from a Korean man working for Broadcom doing wifi development (coincidentally the company that supplies the wifi radios for Apple) who asked us to take a picture of him posing with the bridge in the background, and then we asked him for a ride back over the bridge. That is our interesting story for the weekend.

Well, that and the caricature we had drawn of us. So Cathy and Riley and I are sitting, posing for an elderly Asian man as he draws out a picture of us in marker. 10 minutes later he gives it to us. To our chagrin (or rather to our bemusement) each of our faces is identical to the others. I was distinguished by the peace signs I was making (that I hadn't been), and Cathy had her long hair. The funny thing is, I later realized that in this picture, Riley is the one in fact making the peace signs. So I guess we do sometimes look the same? And that that Asian guy was really seeing into our deepest essences!

...

Oh how I wish San Francisco had four seasons. Who can live without autumn in New England and a frigid morning to go shopping on Black Friday? Who can celebrate a warm Christmas that doesn't involve bundling up and huddling in the car on the way to family dinner? Either way, I have now decided that San Francisco might be where I go when I am done with school.

Bed time. See you soon!

Where the heart is

I recently read a not-so-fascinating article about the theory that women "pick their mate based on who is wanted by others." One, the article is quite anti-feminist in nature (although that wasn't the greatest criticism I had for it). Mainly, the concept is more like "duh." Not every relationship is a story of forbidden love. While some of us love having a system to rebel against, we cannot deny that small tinge of pleasure we derive when we do exactly as our peers say we should do, especially if we achieve/get the things that our peers want and they can't have them.

I don't think it's different for men or women. We all want specifically what we can't have. For me it's more of a material thing (I remember who much I wanted a Furbie when they were sold out), but I suppose it applies to people as well. It isn't ideal, true, it's simply a fact of life.

The question I continue to struggle with is what exactly "true love" is or what it means to be truly attracted to someone. Clearly sexual preference plays a role, and that is purely physical. So why deny that truth, that physical desires must play into a relationship? But at what point does that general acknowledgment turn into vanity? For me, physical fitness trumps a pretty face because, in the American meritocracy way, good fitness (while you can be born with certain propensities or genetic factors) for the most part is something for which anyone can strive. A pretty face is like noble blood-it's just a birthright, and as I've mentioned before, not what attracts me. Good physical fitness reflects a certain approach to life, a level of self-control that a person can achieve. Being ultra-toned or obsessed isn't what I mean. Just a general sense of one's own body suffices.

There are certain things that we use to filter people. Physical appearance. A specific political leaning. Certain interests. Achievements or goals. So often we are wrong though. Being qualified for any job doesn't mean being qualified for any relationship. Working for someone is different than being with someone. Being a perfect person isn't going to dry the tears of a crying child, teased at school or failing an assignment. A good couple complements each other-forms balance. I'll leave it at that.

Another thing-as far as character traits go, it seems that we forgive those flaws in the ones we love that we would never forgive in others. At first I thought it seemed poetic, that maybe it is because of those flaws that we love them. But then I decided that it is much simpler than that. Those for whom we find ourselves able to forgive all the flaws and little character traits that we would hate in others are the ones with whom we ultimately fall in love.

Environmental Engineers: Engineering Custodians?

Today was my first day at work, and pushing past all the paperwork and administrative things, I managed to start a small amount of work on three separate projects (and be informed of 3 or 4 others with which the workers wanted help). What I've realized over the past semester, and largely supported by my first day out in the real world, is that much of the work of an environmental engineer is to address the mess that other engineers have left behind. I'm not sure how specific I can be about the projects Arcadis has going, so I'll just say the projects with which I may be involved are all from household-name companies. Companies that have been doing things involving mechanical, materials, chemical, and biological engineering.

When I took a tour of the Crapo (Kruh-poh, yes I laughed too when I first saw the coincidence in such a name) Landfill, the manager of the landfill extolled the virtues of reducing and elimating waste when possible, and lamented the fact that there remains the need for jobs like his to exist. It's true-climate change deniers who say climate scientists are in it for the money fail to recognize that any given climate scientist could likely pursue a much more lucrative career in investment banking or any number of fields. They don't choose the field to profit off it.

I feel like that Course 2 (MIT for mechanical engineering) student who works for the defense contractor or policemen who patrol the streets protecting against criminals-ideally the job would never have existed but because the need is there, those who have those positions cannot be blamed, and instead deserve respect. Yet I still come back to the thought that, like the difference between taking care of my own space versus using public spaces, if I (and everyone else) was more cautious, perhaps the need could be greatly reduced or even eliminated in some circumstances for workers to base their entire careers on the externalities of other professions.


Side note: I saw a mechanic shop that said free re-inspection for failed emissions tests. I think that's mandated by law. Doesn't that create the perverse incentive for mechanics to pass cars rather than fail them, even when they don't meet the emissions standards?

This blog is supposed to be about me?

I don't really talk much about what I'm doing, even though I started this blog partly as a way to keep in touch with everyone through the summer. I guess then it's about time I do a quick burst of what I've been up to since arriving in San Francisco, moving in and not having worked yet.

In the past week I think I've managed to tour most of San Francisco proper, getting an overview of all the family-friendly sites this city has to offer. Yes, the fog does in fact roll in, it's the strangest sight I have ever seen. One of my childhood dreams was to get lost in a fog (shrouded in a fog as it were) and that dream has been somewhat fulfilled, although I wasn't lost or panicking.

I also rode the streetcars, went over and walked around Berkeley. Don't do the streetcars-they're loud and slow and expensive and really just for tourists. I walked on Lombard Street, which I'll be honest is this stupid street that everyone is amazed by because the road zig-zags down (even though the street is safe). We think it must've been intended to reduce speed in the area, but I bet those poor homeowners didn't expect that they'd be bringing the circus to the street, with all the tourists. Hiked (?) around Muir Woods and ate down at Fisherman's Wharf (aren't most wharf's for fishermen?). There are about three Chinese areas here, aside from Chinatown. There's also little Italy and Japantown, but apparently Japantown is a dying area. I love Golden Gate Park, and I love how distinct yet connected the different areas of the city feel. It's really true-one or two blocks makes a huge difference here in terms of living quality and safety. Our friends showing my mother and me around SF know a whole lot more about this city than I do about Boston!

Now that I have all the touristy things out of the way, it'll be nice to settle into just living in San Francisco like a normal person, and meeting different people. Home sweet home until August 29 is a studio apartment about 4 blocks from Union Square, so I'm in the heart of everything. It's just a question of how to balance work, career fair directing, making my way into this city, and doing the little things I had hoped to do more of this summer, reading and writing among them. You can take the boy out of MIT, but you can't take MIT out of the boy.

Work starts Monday, and I am still not sure what sort of projects I'll be working on. HR told me possibly remediation work for BP (yes, BP). As it turns out, the oil spill may now be threatening the parts of the East Coast.