Tuesday, April 3, 2007

well, that's a very good question

Generally, I don't like it when other people pity me. Self pity, well, that's another matter. On particularly bad days, I imbibe the gratifying, yet costly, sensation of feeling sorry for myself, like Cleopatra drinking pearls dissolved in vinegar.

"But," I hear you, the reader, saying "But, Niobe, in that case, why on earth are you writing this blog?"

11 comments:

Magpie said...

Self pity in public view - I get that. And a chance to craft fine sentences and paragraphs. Blogs are curious amalgam of the private and the public, and sometimes it's easier to write to strangers than talk to friends and family.

jo(e) said...

Pity? I feel moved by what you write here -- and often it reminds me of pain I've been through it my life. What you write stirs up all kinds of thoughts and feelings. But pity? Pity is not one of the emotions I feel when you share your story.

Aurelia said...

I don't feel pity for you, nor do I view this blog as self-pity.

I feel compassion for you. You are reaching out, hoping for empathy and support and we're here. Pity, I think, is sort of like looking down on someone. Not helpful to anyone.

Only you know why you are writing, but I'm reading because your story interests me.

Nicole said...

I agree with aurelia. I don't think you are looking for pity at all, I think you are looking for anyone who can relate, in one way or another. It's a natural human reaction to sadness.

Katie said...

I hear you. I hate pity from others, too - but there are days I need to wallow in it for myself. I don't think you/we write these blogs to receive pity (nor do I think the majority of people who read feel pity).

Phantom Scribbler said...

Jo(e) nails it. Pity is the last thing on my mind when I read your posts. Awe, maybe. But not pity.

pengo said...

That's "awe" not "aw" - which would suggest pity.

I assumed most bereavement blogs are a place to share what is either unacceptable or inexpressible in so-called polite society.

But not in my house.

Artblog said...

Pity, whether in words or in a look, hate it too, so patronising, when in fact, I think they're trying to be compassionate, but it doesn't work out that way somehow. I agree with the others, I don't feel pity when reading, I feel the pain. Maybe someone who doesn't know that pain would feel pity, I dunno.

niobe said...

I'm thinking about all your comments. I just haven't come up with a response quite yet.

Sara said...

Not sure if this worked last time...
From the online OED
pity, v.
1. trans. To feel pity for; to be sorry for.
In modern use sometimes implying disdain or mild contempt for a person as intellectually or morally inferior.

That's why, even as you and I might feel self pity, I'll never feel pity for you. And why I feel contemptuous of anyone who pities any of us.

There's an incredible condescension in pity. And a dangerous conviction that you could never be in the same place.

Still Born said...

I have pity for you, but I don't pity you because I know you don't want that. You just want to get it out. Putting it in people's faces is somehow less... I don't know. If you keep quite, it's almost more provocative, if that makes sense.