It makes me crazy when good writers get stupid.
Take Anne LeClaire for instance. I first read about LeClaire’s book Listening Below The Noise, A Meditation On The Practice Of Silence on my friend Johh Ettorre’s Working With Words back on 27 February.
(John hasn’t posted — although he continues to respond to comments — since writing about LeClaire’s book. I suspect he may have given up blogging for Lent, a concept I whole heartedly applaud.)
Because I trust John’s literary radar, and because this is a topic I have some interest in, I ordered LeClaire’s book from the library and read it. I found 99 percent of it to be thoughtful, insightful and enjoyable.
But the 1 percent of bullshit ruined it for me.
Why?
Because when I read I look to educate myself about that which I am ignorant. But when I spot bullshit touted as fact it inevitably leads to me question the information of which I know nothing. For me it’s like an author taking a dump on their own manuscript and then delighting in the ignorant reader packing it in with a large spoon.
So, what set off my bullshit meter?
First, there was this bit on page 28:
One summer while I was teaching a creative writing workshop in Kenmare, Ireland, I learned an Irish phrase, tuning the five-string harp., which means opening the five senses and bringing them into alignment so they work in consonance.
That may be true. I checked with an Irish friend who makes regular trip back home to see if they were aware of the phrase. They weren’t. Granted, that’s not a representative sample and the phrase may indeed be true. But the new-agey artificialness of it still set my teeth on edge.
But when I got to page 64, I knew I was dealing with bullshit.
I once read that the Inuit and Igoolik have more than two hundred words for snow, and I envy them a language that can encompass that many subtleties of a single idea.
This is one of those urban legendesque facts that has been repeated (and embellished) so many times that people just assume it’s true. It’s not. Anyone doing a minimum of research quickly discovers this. That LeClaire didn’t bother (or that her editor didn’t fact check the manuscript) is a mark against her.
After reading page 109, I was no longer willing to give LeClaire the benefit of doubt or just subscribe her factual slip to laziness because there she cites a bit of scammery with no basis in reality.
There is a book called The Hidden Message Of Water by the Japanese scientist Dr. Masaru Emoto. When Dr. Emoto began experimenting with photographing ice crystals, he found that when the water be used for the experiments was exposed to words like love and gratitude and wisdom, it formed stunningly beautiful crystals. But when it was subjected to words like hate and You’re ugly, the crystals became dark, malformed and fragmented.
The quack Emoto became infamous after he was quoted in the silly movie, What the Bleep? There is nothing factual about Emoto’s findings. He made them up. Pure and simple. I imagine he took the idea that snowflakes are different, added a bit about positive and negative thoughts, stirred the mess with a large ladle worth of P.T. Barnum and set out to make a fortune from people who knew no better.
These three made me question this bit on page 115 that I thought was sensible and a good way of thinking, a kind of Sufi take on the Jewish concept of L’shon Hara.
The Sufis say that, if we are to speak well, our words must pass three gates. At the first gate we ask: are these words true? A the second: are they necessary? At the third: are they kind?
Do the Sufis say that? I don’t know. A check on Google found no primary sources and a pass through my Sufi texts also failed to find this saying. That doesn’t make it false, but now that I know that LeClaire is capable of bullshit, I’m less inclined to grant her a pass.
Two more places in the book that pegged my bullshit meter came on pages 146 and 165.
On the former LeClaire cites the frog-in-the-pot myth and on the latter she claims to have seen:
A blue box kite appeared overhead, it’s long tail trailing out like calligraphy inked on the sky
Box kites don’t have tails, although I suppose it is possible for someone ignorant of this to attack a useless tail to one.
Lest you think I’m all in LeClaire’s face this morning, here is her final list of suggestions for putting some silence back in your life, something I firmly believe we all need.
A few suggestions:
On the commute to work or while running errands, turn off the car radio.
When performing a routine chore –folding laundry, washing dishes, straightening a room, weeding the garden — make it a habit to do the task in silence.
When a task is completed, sit in restful awareness for several minutes before running to the next chore on the list.
After finishing a telephone conversation, sit quietly for a minute or two. Breathe.
Take a long walk without earbuds pouring noise into your head.
Proclaim one day a month, or one morning a month, a time of nonspeech. If an entire day or a half day feels too impossible, try an hour. Like a child learning to swim, wade in the waters of silence before swimming out.
Break the habit of automatically turning on the radio or television when you walk into a room.
Take the television our of your bedroom.
Unplug the phone or turn off the ringer.
Take a sabbatical from email.
When you are part of a group, experiment with just listening to the others converse, staying silent yourself. Observe your own inner dialogue.
There are, too, small gaps in our daily rounds where we can carve our moments of silence:
Waiting in line, in doctors’ offices, in the car, sit without activity or without talking.
Have a meal alone. Without distractions. Without a book or magazine.
Arrange a vacation alone. A weekend or a week. Spend part of the time without talking, checking email or text messaging.
Enroll for a weekend at a retreat where silence is practiced.
Wake an hour early and spend that hour in deliberate stillness.
End the day in silence, an hour that will bring you back to yourself.
Awaken to your senses.
Set aside a formal silence time for your family.
Go to a place in nature and experience the peace. Walk along the seashore, take a mountain hike. In the movie The Bucket List, the two characters attempt a trek to the top of Mount Everest and one them starts talking about how peacefully silent the summit is: how if you are quiet enough, you can hear the mountain.
Take five minutes and close your eyes, wherever you are.
Watch birds. Look at trees.
Watch the primrose or morning glory open. Be in awe.
For one day, do things manually. Rake leaves instead of using a blower. Wash dishes by hand. Hang clothes rather use the dryer.
Stroke the cat.
Keep a gratitude bowl of quotes about silence. Pick out one to meditate on for a day.
Like a candle. Notice the moment when the fire meets the wick.
Find a labyrinth to walk.
Select a place of worship to visit in the middle of the day and sit for fifteen minutes.
Go to the cemetery and clean the moss off your family’s stone.
Pack a picnic for one and lunch at a park or a garden where you have never been.
Now shhh.