Contentment in Isolation
Howie's internal monologue is probably quite relatable to any over-thinker -- at least for me, some of his descriptions of awkward interactions with co-workers hit a little bit too close to home. However, I definitely couldn't relate to Howie's relentlessly optimistic, almost childlike outlook on life that leads him to appreciate and get excited about every small detail. I'm not sure about anyone else, but the world started losing its magic for me between the ages of ten and twelve. Around that time, I told my mother I no longer believed in Santa Claus, stopped being content to sit in my room and play with "toys," and started feeling a bit weird about running around with the younger kids in my neighborhood who wanted me to play pretend with them. I also began to feel the beginnings of discontentment with being "childlike," and I wanted to push my life forward: why didn't I have a phone? Why did my backpack still have flowers on it? But I digress; the point is that, during my preteen years, my interest in being playful and free began to wane. Instead, I began to overthink, like Howie -- but unlike Howie, I've been dogged throughout my teenage years by feelings of dissatisfaction and negativity.
Anyways, enough about my childhood, and back to Howie. I'm not even sure how it's possible for him to have such an innocent outlook. For example, on p. 106, when he notes that the popcorn-selling lady didn't give him any change back on his dollar:
"...and I got no change back; no change at all to abrade my thigh as I walked or to overflow my bureau saucer that evening! How kind of her!"
I think that Howie's liberal use of exclamation points and enthusiastic praise of the popcorn lady's kindness demonstrate his pure, childlike outlook perfectly. He even writes, at the start of Chapter 5, that he doesn't think it's right "to say 'when I was little, I used to love x,' if you still love x now." And, clearly, there are plenty of things Howie could fill in for x; escalators, milk-carton spouts, and the list goes on. But, at least in my case, there are plenty of things I loved when I was a kid that I don't have the same attachment to now. I wonder what Howie would say to that--did he go through the same phase I did, where he was desperate to reject "childishness," but then later came around and returned to getting unreasonably excited about escalators? Also, I'm sure he doesn't experience discontentment and self-deprecation, the same way I did when I stopped feeling "like a little kid" -- has he ever known what that's like? I find his joy and contentment with life very striking, and I'm sure he'd be having a good time in quarantine--he'd have all day to analyze the inner workings of trash cans, clocks, etc., without any of the stress and frustration that many of us are experiencing with Zoom school and such. As much as reading Howie's exhaustive, over-analytical thoughts infuriated me at times, maybe I should learn something from him about giving myself permission to be joyful about "trivial things," just like a little kid again.
Let me know what you guys think! :)
-NC
Haha! I'm actually completely opposite from this. I can actually relate to Howie's supposed enthusiasm, except for, I cannot really detect any. He gets excited about strange things, but he doesn't get enthusiastic about conversation, etc. Those are the things I personally get excited about? So I guess it's just a simple difference in personas.
ReplyDeleteYup I'm the same, I'm not really big on the whole childlike wonder thing and I never really believed in stuff like Santa. But I totally understand a lot of Howie's thoughts because I can relate it to how I act when I talk about something I really fond of. I love video games and I love to talk about the games that I've played and you get the sense that Howie is similar but he doesn't really share it thoughts often, although he likes to think about a much wider variety of stuff compared to me.
ReplyDeleteI definitely agree that Howie's childish enthusiasm is a bit unrealistic. As everyone works their way through life, they experience episodes and emotions that sober them to the reality of the world we live in. Sure, we can still have fun at times, but we are all constrained with the invisible bonds that society and us ourselves have secured on our minds. Although probably exceedingly rare, I guess it is possible for someone to go through life and keep this energetic outlook as much as Howie does, but I just can't see that happening realistically. I can also relate a lot to the point you made about how at a certain age, you no longer felt a need for "childish" items. I feel as if at the time, we were all rushed to grow up, and now, we'd do anything to go back to those carefree days.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry to hear about the loss of Santa in your mind, a true tragedy. I can't personally relate to Howie's childish enthusiasm, that could also be because we are all angsty teens who just sit and sulk. I wonder if time will bring back some of the wonder of childish things, but lets be real it probably won't. The teen years seem to trigger a rush to "grow up", once we are older maybe that self inflicted need to grow up will go away and we can see things in a new light.
ReplyDeleteI also could very much relate to Howie's over-thinking but not as much to his unwavering enthusiasm. I feel like a paradox of The Mezzanine is that it aims to describe many universal experiences, which theoretically anyone could relate to in some way, but they are told from the perspective of someone who in certain ways is rather un-relatable (such as in his childlike view of the world, as you pointed out, which most people shed with age). I agree that Howie's childish enthusiasm was difficult to understand at times when reading, but that it wouldn't hurt to adapt it in our current situation.
ReplyDeleteAs many other people have already commented, while I did relate to a lot of Howie's observations and overanalyzing, his childish and enthusiastic outlook on life is one that I couldn't really connect to. Just the thought of being continuously enthusiastic and cheerful is so overwhelmingly exhausting, I don't think I could stand it - I'm the type of person to stay up until insane hours because I don't want to sleep and wake up to have to deal with the next day. But that's part of what makes reading The Mezzanine so interesting - seeing the way someone who does have this love and enthusiasm views the world around him. Also, I think you raised an interesting point when you wondered if Howie ever went through those desperate rejection phases as he was growing up. It reminded me of the one passage where Howie is reminiscing about the days when milk was delivered to people's doors, and how quickly he had flipped to being utterly ashamed and upset that they had stuck with such an archaic method - contrasting how he sounds when he talks about it, somewhat nostalgic, maybe even a bit fond. While I don't believe he ever mentioned rejected something due to thinking it's "childish" (he doesn't seem the person to categorize things as childish or not), he definitely seems to have gone through the same phases of somewhat irrational rejection many of us have, just for different reasons.
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