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| "Wall, I am amazed you don't fall down, since you contain so many scribbles." |
I often write here about the real world value of a classics education . I studied classics out of a simple, impractical affection for the subject; its practical value wasn't of interest to me until the affection had worn off a little.
I've been thinking lately about how important it is *not* to take every statement at face value. Greek and Latin literature, read in the original, is the best education possible in the obfuscatoy power of language. Unless you're thoroughly anti-intellectual, a first glimpse of the 2-inch thick commentary on a 1000 line poem will destroy any notion of 'one word, one meaning. Witnessing an early Imperial poet damn Augustus while singing his praises *at the exact same time* makes you look askance at butt-kissers for the rest of your life.
Which brings me to a recent NYT essay on disaffected working-class youth. "Young and Isolated" is about the poverty and isolation of working class young adults. Working class poverty is nothing new in the US, but the isolation of young adults is a fairly new issue. I had always naively assumed that one small advantage of a blue collar background is less pressure to move away from your extended family and perhaps even more time to spend with your spouse.
But you can't spend time with a spouse you believe you're too poor to have. From the article:
"Christopher, who was 25, stated simply, “Well, I have this problem of being tricked.” He explained: “Like, I will get a phone call that says, you won a free supply of magazines. And they will start coming to my house. Then all of a sudden I am getting calls from bill collectors for the subscriptions to Maxim and ESPN. It’s a runaround: I can’t figure out who to call. Now I don’t even pick up the phone, like I almost didn’t pick up when you called me.” He described isolation as the only safe path; by depending on no one, Christopher protected himself from trickery and betrayal.
....
Men often face a different challenge: the impossibility of living up to the male provider role. Brandon, who worked the night shift at a clothing store, described what he thought it would be like to be in a relationship with him: “No woman wants to sit on the couch all the time and watch TV and eat at Burger King. I can only take care of myself.”
This may be absurdly utopian, but I can't help thinking that an acquaintance with classics would at least help with the problems of taking language too literally and having rigid notions of social roles. A standard line is that working class people need more and better vocational educaton, but I can't help thinking that a better appreciation of the subltleties of language, and its capacity for deception, would help Christopher. And Brandon might be amused by Ovid's thoughts
on the "male provider role":
now your beauty can’t captivate my eyes.
Why am I changed, you ask? Because you want gifts.
That’s the cause that stops you from pleasing me.
Once you were innocent, I loved you body and soul:
now your beauty’s flawed by this defect of mind.
Love is a child and naked: without the shabbiness of age
and without clothing, so he’s all openness.
Why tell Venus’s son to sell himself for cash?
Where can he keep cash, he’s got no clothes!
