In this post we will discuss Neil Postman, whom I did read for pleasure, but first we will mention my least favorite book of all time: The Velveteen Rabbit. I avoid public radio at this time of year because it is given to reading this book.
THE VELVETEEN RABBIT
I dislike The Velveteen Rabbit intensely because it is so masochistic and because of the faux-wise voices in which it is read. One is to allow one’s fur and limbs to be “loved off” so that one can at last attain the status of a real being. This happens to the rabbit who is then forgotten and nearly burnt in a bonfire. Fortunately we did not have this book at home but it was repeatedly read elsewhere. I trembled in horror then, and I still do.
NEIL POSTMAN
Amusing Ourselves to Death, in the 20th anniversary edition, is entertaining and topical. Much of what it says, we already realize, but then again it says much that is still new to many. This is not just a book about the evils of television, but about the implications of living in a context free world. When are the avant-garde thrills of velocity and ubiquity truly fun, and when are they not?
I was particularly struck by the chapters on the high level of literacy in 18th and 19th century “America,” and the difference between Paul Revere’s advertisement for false teeth he could make for people who needed them (for practical reasons), and the nature of advertisement today. There is a great deal of historical information in it, and there are reminders about a great deal of important bibliography. Take it on the plane with you – it’s easy enough reading for that – but don’t speed read it, pay attention. Then move on to Guy Debord.
ANTI-RIEDUCAZIONE
Postman says on page 107 that the information presented in the news is disinformation and that this is the inevitable result of having the news presented as entertainment. When the news is entertainment, public opinion is merely emotion.
Because it identifies emotion as superficial, this is excellent grist for the mill in which I reiterate that just because I am intellectual and not histrionic does not mean I lack feeling. Reeducation, as we know, wanted one to have “feelings, not thoughts,” which is problematic in itself, and additionally so if emotion is substituted for feeling. Postman notices opinion being substituted with passing emotion. It seems that everyone but Reeducation knows emotions are superficial reactions and that feelings are something else – and that they are not opposed to thoughts.
All of this proves that I am actually human. I am extremely pleased to see such things intimated in books. (And note what I just said. It indicates my problem with Reeducation. I keep on saying: yes I am human, yes I am human [no I am not subhuman]. No wonder. And here I am, day after day, noticing Reeducation’s effects and wondering, why has that so destroyed you? The answer is that it made one not human. [And we do not need to look further than misogyny for that, mind you.])
SELF RESPECT
A related aspect of Reeducation was that it wanted one to relinquish self respect, which it called arrogance and “unfeelingness,” in favor of self esteem. I believe this item, self esteem, is more superficial and infinitely more arrogant than self respect, as it is ungrounded and uncritical. But in Reeducation, you had to replace self respect with profound self doubt. You could then alleviate that by hearing praise from others or repeating “affirmations” which might momentarily raise your self esteem. To do anything even slightly more grounded than this was to have too much “control” in your life and to “fear change.”
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 
That last paragraph. Wow!! It’s like you are supposed to try to feel good about yourself in spite of being a low creature. This you get as a substitute for self integrity (self respect).
Yes!!!
I always hated the Velveteen Rabbit for the same reasons. To be “loved” in that story amounts to being abused and then cast off. “Masochism” is the perfect description.
Hattie – yes. I am glad I finally figured this out. It is a Christian thing, I think.
Clio – I am glad I am not the only one who has this reaction!!! I fear not to like this well beloved book is misanthropic. However that attitude toward love – also the attitude of people I know born around when the book came out – is really destructive.
My mom loved the Velveteen Rabbit and was confused when I didn’t. I didn’t really get at the time why I didn’t like, it either, but. *sigh*
Was martyrdom a cultural value of the twenties? My mother was born then, and the book was published then.
I learned explicitly that you had to be treated like the velveteen rabbit to gain reality. My mother was trying to do it to herself, too. She even uses the same tone of voice as the readers of this story don on the radio to talk about it.
What we learned as children: our parents had seen terrible suffering in the Depression, and had suffered terribly in college and graduate school. We would never be able to compete with those degrees of suffering, but we had to try our best to attain them, or have no hope of aspiring to citizenship rights or anything. The only way to escape disdain, scorn, and withering sarcasm was to be martyring yourself in some way.
I think it may have been a value my mother had. It’s hard to be sure, but I do remember learning from her that it was never, ever okay to ask other people for help, that it was a shameful thing.
A different version of it is my mother: it was shameful to be independent, because not to need help was to have too much personhood.
I’d post about it but my parents read my blog and also part of my new anti self abuse program is not to write posts in which I dwell too much upon pain. (In Reeducation you were supposed to dwell on pain.)
It is amazing, though, looking back, to see how self abuse was the main value in my family, especially when I was really young. My father had to insist he didn’t like his job, that it was martyrdom, because my mother was so envious that he had one. My mother really did not like being a housewife / mother. They were really suffering and we would understand that life was mere suffering when we were older. If you were already suffering, people would be concerned about you and be pleasant, but if you were not suffering they would be mean, because not to suffer was not to respect the suffering of others.
It was truly sick and I liked school because the ideas of school were different. But I kept having trouble with the family over not suffering enough, and when Reeducation essentially told me they were right, one had to just suffer, I really fell apart.