No,it's not another thread devoted to political dysfunction : )

I'm presently reading a novel title "Perfume" by Patrick Suskind. It's set in pre-revolutionary France. As the title suggests, it is heavily redolent of smells, vapours, effluvia and the many splendours of camouflaging scents of all kinds.

Here's an opening paragraph (talking of Paris at the time):

"...the streets stank of manure, the courtyards of urine, the stairwells stank of mouldering wood and rat droppings, the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlours stank of stale dust, the bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp featherbeds, and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber-pots. the stench of sulphur rose from the chimneys, the stench of caustic lyes from the tanneries and from the slaughterhouses came the stench of congealed blood. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes, from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth....the rivers stank,the marketplaces stank, the churches stank, it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces. the peasants stank as did the priest, the apprentice as did the master's wife, the whole of the aristocracy stank,even the King himself stank.....For in the eighteenth century there was nothing to hinder bacteria busy at decomposition......"

We in modern first world societies are not immersed in the smells that have accompanied (especially urban) societies through history. It made me realise how deodourised is our world and how much we take it for granted.

This book was interesting in the way it featured 'smell' as a distinct and important sense.

The importance of being able to smell and to emit smell. Something one would never think of perhaps unless losing a sense much taken for granted. This book made me wonder about what attracts people to each other despite some of the more obvious lures such as appearance but are there other hidden (pheremonal) forces at work?

Yes, all animals have their smells, but apparently we have the Christians to thank for the malodorous atmosphere described in that book.
Most humans throughout history have bathed regularly and kept themselves and their environment reasonably clean and healthy... until Christianity declared the Roman custom of bathing, to be disgusting, and the human body to be a foul thing, abhorred by god... to be despised and reviled if you want to get to heaven.

Dear Poirot,

I found Patrick Suskind's novel, "Perfume," deeply disturbing.
As one critic wrote - "while it is clear that the protagonist
is obsessed and insane - he performs within the confines
of 18th century French society in a lucid manner." Indeed.

Did you by the way happen to also see the film released in 2006
based on the novel? Equally disturbing - though the novel
was much more so.

All of us are influenced by "smells," to a certain extent -
but not to the extent of criminal insanity as in the case of
the protagonist in Suskind's novel.

Lexi,

Yes, Suskind's character, Grenouille, was disturbing.

However, the whole backdrop got me thinking about the odours that accompany all of life on earth - and how the further mankind advances, the more we are adept at masking the unpleasant ones.

Anything that strips away the Apollonian veneer and exposes the grotesque realities of existence is disturbing. Camille Paglia wrote of it thus:

"Our focus on the pretty is an Apollonian strategy. The leaves and flowers, the birds, the hills are a patchwork pattern by which we map the known. What the west represses in its view of nature is the chthonian, which means "of the earth" - but earth's bowels, not its surface.....which has become contaminated with vulgar pleasantries. The Dionysian is no picnic. It is the chthonian realities which Apollo evades, the blind grinding of the subterranean force, the long slow suck of muck and ooze. It is the dehumanising brutality of biology and geology, the Darwinian waste and bloodshed, the squalor and rot we must block from consciousness to retain our Apollonian integrity as persons. Western science and aesthetics are attempts to revise this horror into imaginatively palatable form."

*but are there other hidden (pheremonal) forces at work?*

Apparently there are, Pelican. But I gather much of this goes
straight from the olefactory system to other centres of the brain,
bypassing the thinking bits. So those pheromones will act, without
you being aware of it.

The experiment that I read about, involved sweaty t-shirts, worn by
blokes. When women sniffed those sweaty t-shirts and rated them,
they matched up with which guys turned on which females. Its seems
tied up with dna, ie those with dna different to their own, attracts
females. That would make evolutionary sense. Perhaps that is what
females mean, when they say that "chemistry matters".

Dear Poirot,

I had the thrill of reading Perfume nearly a quarter of a century ago and the first paragraph you have related is one of the great openings to a work I have ever read. It blew my socks off.

To have such an impact on one's first novel is not unknown and puts him in the league of Richard Bach with his Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Although JLS was not Bach's first novel its extraordinary success is echoed by Perfume. Suskind's second novel 'Pidgeon' to me was a disappointment as were Bach's other works.

But the style of the writing is more in the vein of Herman Hesse's 'Siddartha' or even some of Nietzsche's writings, to quote, "All credibility, all good conscience, all evidence of truth come only from the senses.".

Yes all three are indeed German writers and all have a prose style that is dry yet chilling. A type that leaves you with the sense you would want them as your lawyer but never your friend. They are all writing on the one theme but the genius of Suskind is extraordinary, a 'Piss Christ' on steroids holding a mirror up to the unhinged nature of our religious beliefs.

Anyway we are getting ahead of ourselves. It was only after having children I grasped the true horror of the thought of an infant without smell (sin).

I have a niece with an extraordinary sense of smell who at a very early age was able to sort through a load of washing at our place purely through smell.

But while the olfactory  world Suskind describes for us is spellbinding, ultimately it is only a vehicle for his real target and doesn't he do a brilliant job.

csteele,

Well, yes!
I came upon this book last week on a "swap stand" at the local library. I'm a bit of a bower-bird when it comes to books, and I liked the title and my Penguin copy has a cover depicting a detail Watteau's "Nymph and the Satyr"....so that seemed as good a reason as any to take it home and stuff it in my bookcase for future reference.
But one should always take a quick dip into the book before it's installed on the shelves - and every now and then an author will reach out and grab you by the neck and haul you in to his invented world. Such was the case with Perfume.

I think it was Suskind's rendering of the squalor that initially took my breath away. Grenouille's mother at the fish stall when her labour pains began - "...she squatted under the gutting table and there gave birth as she had done four times before, and cut the new born thing's umbilical cord with a gutting knife..." The contrast between all that and enlightenment Paris, if you don't mind. It's hard to escape earthbound reality and Suskind renders the putrid realities of the time well - Grenouille is the perfect "other".

http://www.bookclubs.ca/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780394550848

Dear Poirot,

Just on the level of a gothic tale ingeniously incorporating smells this book could stand tall, but it has other strengths.

Did you get the same sense of detachment in his writing style? For me it accentuated the horror and the fascination. Have you watched the TV shows of Gunther von Hagens, the very disquieting German anatomist whose specialty is the plasticising of human corpses? Obviously passionate about what he does but it is his objectification of the dead that disturbs us. I think, and to be honest hope, that it was intentional by Suskind. However is there a little Germanic distain peeking through with the use of the name Grenouille which is French for 'frog' whose mother is a French fishmonger?

It was only after the climax where Grenouille was carved up by the adoring crowd and his flesh was eaten and his blood drunk that I realized what a powerful metaphor this was for the Christian faith. The friend who initially loaned me the book was convinced Perfume was about Hitler and Nazism, and sure the humble beginnings of Hitler, Christ and most powerfully Grenouille resonate as did the utter completeness of the adulation of the masses captured by all three. 

But Suskind's use of virgins in the tale (one only needs to look at the Church's deification of the virgin Mary and her mother), as well as the nature of Grenouille's demise convinced me otherwise and when reread in that light Perfume takes on a whole extra dimension.

Great art is suppose to allow us our own interpretations and you may have an entirely different take, but think for a moment of a God coming to earth in a human form seeking what it was to be human, wanting to discover its essence. For instance imagine Mary and Joseph raising a child which did not sin in anything, got up to no mischief, never cried nor teased siblings or argued with his parents. It would be like raising an alien. Hard to warm to and possibly feared.

I do promise this book will never leave you.

csteele,

Yes I did glean the Christ motif - more so since reading your posts.

When Grenouille was convicted, the whole community readied themselves for the spectacle - complete with cross. I was struck by the carnival atmosphere and the pageantry planned for the occasion....10,000 people coming from near and far, food purveyors, scaffolding and seats erected for the toffs in their finery, etc.
Another thing was after Grenouille had discovered the scent that made him normal (to other people) he was dressed well - and the colour was "blue". this is Mother Mary's colour and depicts sky, heaven, purity (also in days gone by, blue was a more expensive colour than the earthy hues)He was wearing blue when he made what was supposed to be his final journey - when he stepped out of the carriage he was wearing his blue outfit.

I think you're right that Suskind's woven magic will rise to the surface the more one ponders it.

Dear Poirot,

Good pick up.

I don't have the book with me at the moment so I can't contribute much on the detail.

While Perfume to me does a marvelous job illustrating so vividly the corruption of human desires and nature that religion is capable of it is the exploration of what it would mean to be the God we have created that fascinates me. 

As Nietzsche wrote;

"A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation."

That is not to say I completely discount aspects of my friend's interpretation. There is a Joseph Mengele air to Grenoullie's use of the young women, his experiments with the oils and cloths on their still warm bodies (a very evocative capturing of souls?), his wanting to get to the essence, to get answers, with scant regard to the fact he is killing the thing he most desires to know about.

It has been a little while since I have read the book but I can not recall any sense of empathy shown by Grenouille toward others.

One of the more comprehensive surveys of world happiness I read recently gave Indonesia the highest ranking with over 50% describing themselves as very happy compared to Australians and Americans at 27%. Germany came in at 15%. I don't want to appear to be beating up on Germans but I can't help but think their policy makers would be more interested in what was making an Indonesian so much more happy rather than what was making themselves sad.

PS. I am writing these thoughts while on the road so I apologize for their disjointed nature.

The skill of writing is the skill of using words. And Suskind
certainly wields the words together so that they work a
special magic of their own. Widening the mind's eye and taking
the reader far beyond the ordinary to a new (and for me -
disturbing) experience.

For me, although as I've stated - I did find the book disturbing -
I have to admit it was so absorbing in its overall quality that
I was totally drawn to the imaginative world that it created with
no problem of suspension of disbelief.

It has stayed with me - even today.

cont'd ...

Although I'm not sure that I would go back and re-read it.

I saw only the film. Very well directed but I disliked it intensely. The ultimate smell of a virgin, I mean, how boringly heterosexist. OK, so sex is the primary animal function, but it doesn't make us different from other animals, many of which have a sense of smell thousands of times sharper than ours.
As a portrait of obsessive dementia, it works. As a depiction of certain unsavoury aspects of humanity, it's fine, but I define art as a selective recreation of reality that offers us a glimpse of a more 'perfect' world; this is a glimpse of perdition, I can't think of it as art.

You're right about the sense of smell. It's one of our
basic senses. Some animals use it to recognise their
home territory, animals of their own kind, and other kinds
of animals. They also use smell to find food and mates.
Insects and some other animals secrete pheromone in order
to communicate by means of smell with their own species.
The pheromone secreted by certain female moths can be detected
by males of the same species from several kilometres away.

Where would we be without the ability to smell? The smell-stimulus
is so important to us to be able to distinguish between things
pleasant and unpleasant - right? Take food for example. Smell
is important (taste, equally so). Perfume has existed since
ancient times. Ancient peoples burned fragrant resins, gums
and woods, as an incense at religious ceremonies. Even the word
"perfume," comes from the Latin words - "per" meaning "through"
and "fumes" - meaning "smoke." Perfumes have been found in
the tombs of Egyptian pharaohs. The Egyptians soaked fragrant
woods and resins in water and oil and then rubbed their bodies
with the liquid. They also embalmed their dead with these
liquids. The ancient Greeks and Romans learned about perfumes from
the Egyptians.

It's interesting that for hundreds of years perfume making was
chiefly an Oriental art. In the early 1200's, the crusaders
brought perfume from Palestine to England and France. By the 1500's
perfumes had become popular throughout Europe. Synthetic
chemicals have been used extensively in perfumes since the late
1800's.

Well I hope you're all very proud of yourselves.

You have totally destroyed my dream of some day, on this life or even after it, partaking in a propper thorough going Roman orgy.

The whole idea is a bit on the nose now.

Lexi,

Our sense of smell is a major subliminal factor in our every day existence. I think, especially in the West, our eye has taken over our consciousness so that we tend to rely on it over and above our other senses. I'm remembering childhood though, and the way smells seemed so much more important - and also the power of a smell to stimulate memories (a frangipani always takes me back to summer at Scarborough beach).

csteele,

So many aspects - your line is good "(a very evocative capturing of souls)- his wanting to get at the essence, to get answers, with scant regard to the fact he is killing the thing he most desires to know about."

I also wondered about it as a metaphor for the negation of worldly notions in favour of "heavenly" ones. Smell is of earthly origin - the absence of smell points to othernesss - something not of corporeal essence. His seven years alone in the wilderness (cave) where he retreated to an interior life, calling up at will his scents and odours and creating an interior world from them. This interior grandly laid our like a palace where he even had servants, in contrast to the cave and sackcloth and cold earth which embalmed him in his solitariness.

...and Grenouille "the frog" who is an amphibian who inhabits both land and water, thus straddling two atmospheres.

Chacun ses goûts ... I just can't get Pepé Le Pew (and Penelope) out of my mind.

I can't get freshly baked bread, the fragrance of pine,
the aroma of coffee, good and strong, a whisper of bacon,
crisp and crunchy, clean sun-drenched sheets, the smell
of cooking - all bring back - my childhood, Saturday
nights before a fire, a happy place filled with laughter,
a treasured link in the reality of change.

Yes Poirot, you're right - smell is often subliminal in
our everyday existence. Yet I can't help wondering how
important is smell to the ability to taste? I know how
I'm affected when I have a cold and can't smell as
well - my tase buds also suffer.

bonmot,

Pepe le Pew is a favourite of mine.

(btw, in light of your first sentence http://forum.onlineopinion.com.au/thread.asp?article=13287&page=0#230004 - Poirot has worked it out! (he thinks)

Lexi,

Smell is important to taste. A few years ago I developed some sort of diabolical allergy which gave me very overactive nasal passages (putting it politely)...the upshot was that I lost my sense of smell and taste for a month (Just when my daughter decided that she'd cook up a storm for Christmas), but alas I could taste nothing! I went to one doctor (and I use the term loosely here) He immediately burrowed into medical texts and sent me off to buy nasal spray. A few days later I went back to a real doctor who gave me jab of steroids....then joy of joys, the next morning I smelled the first nuances of my coffee.

You often don't appreciate something until it's not there ('nall that)

'Yes, all animals have their smells, but apparently we have the Christians to thank for the malodorous atmosphere described in that book. '

ypgirb obviously have not visited outback Australia places where the gospel has not reached. His/her ignorance is astounding and yet not surprising. I suppose he/she would find any moral boundaries abhorrent no matter how constructive they are.

Here I have runner coming in to equate the lack of smell or odour to ChristIan morality, such a gift, yet I decline. 

I don't want to compete with freshly baked bread since I would risk ending up like one of those bores at parties who lack the manners not to keep banging on about sex and religion when the discussion has moved on to lighter matters.

Did love the book though.

Dear Poirot,

Here's a quote from one of
my favourites - Dorothy Parker:

"Razors pain you, rivers are damp,
acids stain you and drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful, nooses give,
gas smells awful,
you might as well live."

And my adaptation of another:

"Roses may smell better than a cabbage
But they don't make better soup."

And -

"Words without a story are like a fart without a
smell, nice to have passed silently in a crowded lift,
but causing no reaction whatsoever, except as a relief
to the farter that he got clean away."

It's all relative.

Dear csteele,

You could never be a bore. You're far to literate.
Plus you don't drone on endlessly about irrelevant
subjects unlike some of us mere mortals. ;-)

Well that's a bit of a disappointment csteele...your take on the story helped me to dig a bit deeper. I found a few perspectives I mightn't otherwise have perceived.

Lexi, you and anyone else interested in perfumes and how our sense of smell works, would enjoy 'The Emperor of Scent' by Chandler Burr. A well-written and engrossing autobiography of a scientist with an exceptional ability to detect variations in all odours. His explanation of the perfume market alone is worth the read, let alone the hurdles he encounters in attempting to get his discoveries accepted.

Dear Poirot and Lexi,

As a teenager I can remember deciding not to watch The Exorcist when it first came out. I was fond of scary movies but something told me I didn't want that film in my head. I copped a bit of stick from my mates but was more than comfortable with the decision. I knew imagery is very easily put in but virtually impossible to remove. My daughter has the same propensity, often putting her hands over her ears and 'la-la-ing' if a murder or torture scene comes on.

Suskind's book on the surface is not one I would normally enjoy and without an appreciation of its depth it would have annoyed me.

Yet I know it is an incredibly dark and disturbing work and it is a perfectly natural response for someone to find it repulsive, and instead want to go and smell some roses.

If I were incapable of appreciating that then I would be little different from Gunther von Hagens, the man I mentioned earlier. Full of passion but perhaps rather lacking in empathy and dismissive of discomfort in others.

But I do invite you Poirot to keep pondering the work, you have just been blown the dust off the coffin lid and there are far greater dark depths to navigate and discover if you were of the mind.

It is just in this thread Lexi has kindly and appropriately given us a tug on the rope around our waists reminding us know there is goodness and light back on the surface.

To this day I have not seen The Exorcist.

Speaking of smells I did enjoy this snippet from Arundhati Roy's 'The God of small things', 

"Rahel could smell the sheaf of bus tickets and the sourness of the steel bus rails on the conductor's hands."

... the sourness of the steel bus rails on the conductor's hands...

Wow.

Dear ybgrip,

Thank You for the book, "The Emperor of Scent," by
Chandler Burr. I'll try to get hold of a copy as it
sounds interesting.

Dear csteele,

As I stated earlier the skill of writing is the skill of
using words. Sometimes the words are acerbic, sharp as
a scalpel, as in Leon Garfield's description of Jackson
the street urchin in "Fair's Fair," (1981):

"Jackson was thin, small and ugly, and
stank like a drain."

Or sometimes they are lilting and mellifluous as in Kenneth
Grahame's description of Mole's walk beside the river in
"The Wind in the Willows (1908):

"The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of
the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side
of a man, who holds one spellbound by exciting stories; and when
tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river, still
chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories
in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at
last to the insatiable sea."

Or they could also be busy and filled with sound and movement
as in Colin Thiele's description of the birds of the South
Australian Coorong in "Storm Boy," (1963).

"And so the water and the shores rippled and flapped with wings.
In the early morning the tall birds stood up and clapped and cheered
the rising sun..."

Whatever words do in a good book - be it adult or children's - the
point that I am trying to make is that they come together to tell
a story. Whether it is Patrick Suskind's, "Perfume," or any other book.
It is the skill of the writer that welds the words together so
that they may work a special magic of their own.

We all take what we want from books and our responses are not always
searching or comprehensive. If a book is a good one it will be able
to create enjoyment at many levels, in many ways, and at many times.

BTW - I didn't watch the Exorcist either. Still can't.

Interesting that you raise this thread. Working with my Year 8 class on creative writing, I've been trying to convince them to use the less-described senses (and, in particular, smell) to 'put the reader in the picture' in their writing.

It's interesting - smell is one of the few things that can stop me in my tracks. I was walking down by the creek here in Townsville about a week ago, not too far away from the loading dock of a pub. All of a sudden, I had to stop and take a deep breath. For a brief moment, I was transported - by smell alone - to Paris. There was something about that area that bore the odour of Paris in the early morning, perhaps when the dew has moistened the cobblestones and allowed the smells to come back to life as they are heated slowly by the sun. It was smell alone that took me to that place. Townsville in Summer bears no resemblance whatsoever to Paris at any time of year.

Smells are also delightfully ephemeral. Walking back that way just an hour later, the smell was gone. Perhaps it's that temporary nature that makes smells so central to memory - they can take you to exact moments. It's now over 12 years since I visited Florence, and the sights of that city have faded, but the smell of leather, stagnant water and other Florentine delights is as strong today as it was then. Strangely, I didn't find the smell of Florence OR Paris particularly appealing at the time. I still don't. But the memories invoked by revisiting those smells are priceless.

Dear Otokonoko,

Smells are very central to memory. Thank You for sharing
your experiences with us. It reminded me of my own
feelings of homesickness and nostalgia that the smell of
eucalyptus evokes in me when I'm travelling overseas.
Homesickness strikes me to the core.

Where would we be without the sense of smell. It certainly
would have a negative effect on our quality of life (as well
as also being a sign of a serious health problem). We wouldn't
be able to delight in the fragrance of flowers, the aromas
of our favourite foods, and so on. Smell acts as a warning system
alerting us to the dangers of gas leaks, spoiled food, fires,
and so on. Its a sense that helps us not only to enjoy life -
but live it. Perhaps that's one of the messages that Patrick
Suskind was trying to send us in his novel?

cont'd ...

I still remember standing on the deck of the P & O Orient liner outside of Vancouver when the heavy fragrance of pine filled the air.
To this day - the fragrance of pine takes me back to that moment.

The other less pleasant smell is that of mold that makes me
recall my childhood. I grew up in an old house whose bedrooms
were riddled with it. Luckily we did not stay in the house for
long. But again - that distinct smell has stayed with me over the
years.

And so it goes

Yeeeeep. I've never forgotten any of my farts.

'diabolical allergy'

To Columbian marching powder?

*Yeeeeep. I've never forgotten any of my farts.*

So Houllie, do you pull the blanket/sheet over your other
half and make her smell them? :)

Thank you Houellie and Yabby...for providing the half-time entertainment. (I'm visualising you two doing a vaudeville act - based entirely around farts)

Wuz going to add (except I couldn't get onto OLO for a few hours?) that there's a famous passage in Proust's "Remembrance of Things Past / In Search of Lost Time" where the "taste" or "essence" of a small "Madeleine" cake dipped in tea transports him in memory. Proust's expressive prose is notoriously convoluted, but it's probably the closest any writer comes to expressing the complexity of experience.

Here's the passage:

http://fisheaters.com/proust.html

'it's probably the closest any writer comes to expressing the complexity of experience.'

I reckon squeers could have a go.

I'm just not in the mood Poirot. Always love a good scoff and mock though. Mawkishness like this is a red flag to a bull. Is this your new Oprah book club? Fart jokes are ironic and postmodern when done by me BTW.

Yabby can be Statler and I'll be Waldor.

'that distinct smell has stayed with me over the
years.'

Bacterial vaginosis?

Houellie,

I would have been disappointed if you hadn't appeared in your usual regalia. One of my favourite comedy pieces is Billy Connolly doing a sequence of fart noises for a whole sketch.

A friend of ours taught my son to do a song circa 1950's in English vaudeville style with many "questionable" noises all linked with song - sounds great and very funny (can't beat homeschooling :)

http://motivational-ish.com/files/2011/09/thppppbbbbbt-biden-obama-Motivational-ish.jpg

;)

Ah, toilet humour ...

A guy sits in front of the TV all day farting like
there's no tomorrow. But not just gassy airish
farts. We're talking mega greasy wet ones, the
kind that would make your dog puke. The wife is
understandably angry. "One day dear - you're going
to fart your guts out."

The next Sunday, as the wife is preparing turkey for
Sunday lunch, hubbie falls asleep. The wife sees an
opportunity to get her own back so she takes the innards
of the turkey and places them in the underwear her
husband is wearing. She then goes back to cooking the turkey.

Later that afternoon her husband comes to the dining table
looking very frightened. "What happened to you?" asks his
wife. "You're white as a sheet."

"Well," replies the man. "You were right. I farted my guts out."
"You what?" says the wife.
"What did you do?"
"Well, with the Grace of God and these two fingers I got 'em
all back up in there!"

Yes, well I suppose it's fitting that a thread so crudely titled "Smells" should have Proust's Madeleine scene followed by a pastiche of effluvium inspired commentary - fart jokes and all.

Strange, the meandering nature of such a thread : )

My dear Colonel Poirot,

It would surely be remiss of us to neglect the opportunity thus presented.

Shall we play?

Is a sense of humour that different to the other senses? And has not Houllie acted as Gulliolle did in the book? As an aside isn't it strange the closeness of their names?

The ability to make a woman laugh and a good scent are essential parts of the male's mating kitbag.

Any comedian requires validation from others that their offerings are humourous.

Just to be told one is funny is not good enough, instead one needs to see a reaction.

Houllie enters the thread and tries a couple of 'scents'. Starts of course with the quite passable;

 "Yeeeeep. I've never forgotten any of my farts."

Not bad and in this setting had the benefit of leaning on the tried and true 'fart at a funeral' joke.

But us males are generally insecure about our prowess as comedians and within three minutes Houllie has taken a punt and backed it up with;

"'diabolical allergy' ... To Columbian marching powder?"

I have some support for the contention of the esteemed Professor Higgins, sorry Hitchens, that the delivery of humour is primarily a male domain, used to make us appear intelligent and more attractive to the fairer sex since with bodies like ours we need it.

Houllie's second effort, or scent, contained another ingredient, intelligence or wit! However it was obscure enough to confuse without the pleasure of discovery adequate enough to compensate.

Still, full marks for the attempt.

The response from Yabby and yourself signaled bodily emanations were the go but wanting to keep the ingredient of intelligence part of the mix Houllie attempted "Bacterial vaginosis?". Obviously fell flat but you can see a tester's mindset.

"Male humor prefers the laugh to be at someone's expense, and understands that life is quite possibly a joke to begin with—and often a joke in extremely poor taste."
Christopher Hitchens

I invite you to read the rest of his excellent essay.

http://m.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2007/01/hitchens200701

csteele,

According to Arthur Koestler, all humour is malicious : )

Houellie is an exotic breed in a place like OLO. I have designs to capture the essence of his wit (maybe bottle it and use it as a condiment, although as yet I haven't discovered the process)...anyway, he's promised to write a book and if he does, I'll buy it.

Will have a look at the essay a little later when more time.

Dear Poirot,

Of course it is malicious, especially when asserting ones self in a male pack.

It also has the function I described plus I like Nietzsche's take, quoted by Hitchens, that "Wit is the epitaph of emotion". Superbly illustrated by Houllie's use of it here by attempting to deflate what he saw as 'mawkishness'. The is also some truth in Aristotle's "Wit is educated insolence".

However it is hard to go past Monty Python's portrayal of the essence of humour in their skit 'The Killer Joke'.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdWGlJrG6sQ&feature=youtube_gdata_player

It certainly echoes and perhaps surpasses Gulliolle's last bottle with the notion that something can be so irresistible to something primal within us it causes our death.

Genius!

Dear csteele,

Thank You for your eloquent posts. As always you've raised
the bar in this discussion and given us food for thought.
Here I was thinking that Houellie had all the charm and
wit of three men:

Larry, Curley and Moe.

cont'd ...

BTW - I read the excellent article by Hitchens.

Mel Brooks summed up the difference between
tragedy and comedy thus:

"Tragedy is when I cut my finger.
Comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and die."

csteele,

That's a great article by Hitchens. Will have a more in-depth read of it later.

I happen to be a huge fan of P.G. Wodehouse. I love his kind of humour. I've even had a shot of writing in his style (for my own enjoyment only) - no-one else does it like him.

The following is an excerpt from my effort:

"The time had come, I could see, for me to reacquaint myself with Aunt Minnie. She was on my mother's side, and apparently had taken a distinct dislike to me at the tender age of three when I learned my first important lesson in life - and that was never to pee in the silver soup tureen....especially when it contains soup.
(I still maintain that she covered up that particular incident with dutiful ardour. To this day those seventy-odd blighters at the Hunt Ball have no idea that the Brown Windsor served that night contained a secret ingredient not usually served as standard fare)."

I think I'm a little more inclined to "male tastes" than most women.

: )

Dear Lexi and Poirot,

I'm glad you liked the article. While not without its problems I do find he spoke some essential truths.

"Whereas with a man you may freely say of him that he is lousy in the sack, or a bad driver, or an inefficient worker, and still wound him less deeply than you would if you accused him of being deficient in the humor department."

He copped a lot of flack for it from female comedians but he wouldn't have minded that one bit.

His rebuttal to those criticisms are a delight.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7izJggqCoA&feature=youtube_gdata_player

It will be interesting to see what response we get here. Will it be 'the rain in Spain' or 'Move yer bloomin' arse'? I'm banking on the latter.

Poirot, I think PG would indeed be flattered. My crass male sense of humour would have struggled to make the soup anything other than 'Pea and Ham'. But the Fawlty specialty Brown Windsor captures the era perfectly. Well done. 

Dear Poirot,

P.G. Wodehouse's reminds me somewhat of David Niven
fine sense of the absurd in his book, "The Moon's A
Balloon, which we've discussed, I believe, sometime ago.

However the difference is of course as Niven himself
attests: "...It makes little sense to write about
the butler if Chairman Mao is sitting down to dinner."

Some write to please the reader, and some write for the
greater pleasure of the reader. Niven falls into the later
group. P.G. Wodehouse probably belongs in the first category.

Dear csteele,

Interesting subject - humour.
According to survey done by psychologists in Canada -
there are differences in humour between genders.
According to the surveys - women want to settle down with a
guy who can crack a good joke while men want a partner who
laughs at their antics. In other words women want a man who
is a humour "generator" while men seek a woman who's an
"appreciator." We're told that a woman who displays a male
sense of humour - one that's aggressive or
competitive - is a turnoff to men. Not sure if I agree with
any of this though. I personally feel that GSOH (good sense of
humour) is important in a relationship -provided of course
that it's not at the expense of any one else. Again a question of
savoir-faire.

Lexi,
I do enjoy a well written and humourous autobiography.
The Moon's A Balloon was incredibly funny, but I found Bring on the Empty Horses less enthralling. In the same way I enjoyed the first two volumes of Clive Jame's memoirs, but found his third was less entertaining in his particular style.

The strength of people like Wodehouse is that, although their subject matter seems frivolous, they are capable of continually conjuring up the humour. Here he is writing on humourists in 1971 when he was 90:

"I go in for what is known in the trade as "light writing", and those who do that--humourists they are called--are looked down upon by the intelligentsia and sneered at. When I tell you that in a recent issue of the "New Yorker" I was referred to as "that burbling pixie", you'll see how far the evil has spread.
These things take their toll. You can't go about calling a man a burbling pixie without lowering his morale. He frets. He refuses to eat his cereal. He goes about with his hands in his pockets and his lower lip jutting out, kicking stones. The next thing you know, he is writing thoughtful novels analysing social conditions, and you are short another humouristst.....In order to be a humourist, you must see the world out of focus, and today, when the world really is out of focus, people insist that you see it straight."

Perhaps the thing I find so attractive about him is his outlook on the world and all its absurdities. So he played with words and meanings and made us laugh.

Hell, I notice I have been spelling Grenouille incorrectly, my apologies.

I did want to touch on sex. It is such a large part of Perfume but I will keep it at a little more pleasant level than that explored by the book. However we are, I suspect, all adults here so no beg your pardons.

Two observations. The first is the habit of my own, and from what I gather many males, of after love making of lying back and nestling ones good lady under one arm while raising the other arm above ones head.

It is not a position I would sleep in in any other occasion but seems so natural after sex.

It was only after reading the book that I understood what had been going on subliminally. Firstly we are in effect scenting our partner with our spore with one armpit and with the other we are letting our scent wash over their face to be inhaled.

The second observation is that exquisitely scented area of skin between a woman's shoulder blades (and more than likely a man's as well), that because of the difficulty of reaching it invariably remains somewhat free of the ravages of soaps and perfumes.

I happily admit to finding it intoxicating.

Finally I do wonder about this new generation and their shavers, Brazillian waxes and body sprays. While there are of course benefits to this lifestyle for Gen X and Y, they are perhaps unknowingly foregoing the pleasures of the human pelt and it's accompanying odours.

Perhaps it is just the evolutionary behavioural path our species is on. We certainly turn our noses up at the imagined odiferous offerings of Grenouille's time and it could eventuate that our pelts and odours are bred or genetically modified out of existence in a few hundred years.

Dear csteele,

Smell is an irresistible lure - especially as far as sex
is concerned and we can muse on the nature of desire in
general - and its folly. In Suskind's novel it reaches its
peak at the end of the novel when the mob consumes
Grenouille because of the irresistible lure of the scent
of the 25 women - bringing
together the two main human desires - food and sex.

The smell of the young women is the distilled essence of desire
(in excess), although few of us would be drawn into the
urge to eat the person wearing it.

I don't quite agree that the power of smells will disappear
with time. Sure there are scented soaps, candles, shower gels,
air-freshners, body lotions, oils, perfumes, that make up
the cosmetics of our world. However there are also still
exotic tropical flowers, guavas, mangos, and other tropical
fruits that provide the most wonderful fragrant smells.
As well of course as unpleasant smells - that I remember
from the past - in smoggy, grotty old Newcastle, with the
BHP chimney stacks on one side belching out continual explosions
of toxic pollution into the air...and on the other side of
gut-wrenching stinking abattoirs! It was disgusting! To this day
I can still smell that stench ...especially in the sharp air
of a cold winter's night. Some things are locked in our memories.
And it will, I suspect always be so even for future generations.

Dear Lexi,

I will admit my last post was submitted with a little twinkle in the eye and I was unsure if it was going to get a response.

But it is an interesting aspect.

Women have been shown to have a much keener sense of smell than men, especially through ovulation. 

Other studies have shown the further away genetically an odour producing individual is, the more pleasant their scent is judged to be by a smelling person.

For instance a mother finds the odour of her children noticeably less attractive that that of a 'control' child.

It is thought this is an evolutionary response to the disasters of incest.

"being specially repelled by the malodorous fumes of our biological kin functions to promote incest avoidance." (see link below).

Remember in the final scene in Perfume, where Grandfathers were laying down with their grand-daughters etc. Grenouille's scent overcame those olfactory gatekeepers. 

Anyway back to the armpits;

"As recent findings tell us, other people’s apocrine glands—that is to say, their armpits—are routinely piping out a lot of important social information. These armpit odor molecules are sucked up into our sinuses, processed by our brains, and translated into some rather interesting psychological and behavioral reactions."
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=armpit-psychology-body-odor

Just on knowing everything.

The alpha maleness of the arm raising, armpit exposing action found its peak in the infamous Hitler Salute.

It is said Hitler himself voted against a party salute at the Nazis first convention in 1920. Even in 1923 he stated "I do not wish to become a cheerleader for the nation.".

Research was of Dr Klara Motz was brought to his attention. She had found that the jerking motion produced by quickly raising the arms caused mini shocks to the brain and given time reduced mental capacity. Hitler was skeptical so the research was shown to Goebbels who was keen for compliant minds for his propaganda. He quickly forced its adoption and refined the rigid snapping motion that was even more effective in achieving the desired effect. This was called the People's Hitler Salute or PHS.

He sent instructions to Hitler that he should perform a far less rigid version which involved keeping the arm bent and languidly flicking the wrist. This was also related to the top brass and was known as the HHS or Hitler Hitler Salute.

It prove extremely valuable in allowing the Nazis to effect their policies on a dumbed down nation.

Kudos to Peter Milner for his research on the topic.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSx5iMnm4r8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

From Lexi: "The smell of the young women is the distilled essence of desire (in excess), although few of us would be drawn into the urge to eat the person wearing it."
What do witty, intelligent, people think the townsfolk response would have been, if a stinking, young, rag-clad, mad woman had distilled the essence of youths and drenched herself in it?

Dear ybgirp,

This is obviously an issue for you as you have raised it twice now.

I would normally be saying anyone who had only seen the film would have a distorted view of the author's intent and they should go and read the book, but I'm not sure it would be all that helpful here.

Suskind does draw our attention to, and dissects, the fixation we have with virginity. We have dressed the male biological urge to procreate with females who are free from another's genetic material into notions of purity and morality.

In the book he highlights how the fears the murders of the young virgins understandably elicit in the townsfolk are much heightened by the fact they were not sexually molested.

Yet on the face of it that is an absurd position to take. If they are to be murdered isn't it better they do not have to suffer the trauma of rape.

So why does the reader empathize with the heightened horror of the townsfolk? It is because we instinctively know the base motives of our species and when they are not realized in these crimes it is deeply discomforting.

Suskind forces us to reflect on the unsavory aspects of being human and it is often only through those reflection can we rise above the hand our biology has dealt us. That is what we call, for want of a better term,  civilization.

I accept that our religions can be a standard bearer for our civilizations, the notion of a higher calling etc, but to have such base biological instincts reflected in the sanctity of virginity by our major faiths needs exposure and examination, and Suskind shines that light.

Dear csteele,

You've raised some interesting points.
I must apologise however as I simply don't have
the time to respond. We have a family emergency
to deal with and I'm about to leave for the week-end.

I'd like to Thank Poirot for this interesting thread -
and you (and others) for contributing so beautifully
to it.

See you on another thread.

Dear csteele, thanks.
You have explained it beautifully. I don’t really have an issue with it, I was born with a wooden spoon in my hand. I am not, however, convinced that civilization has modified the unsavoury aspects of human behaviour, indeed, it would seem to have exacerbated them when you consider the wars that rage unceasingly and the increasing misery and starvation of billions.
Anthropological studies of pre-civilization human societies suggest they were less ‘base’ than today’s humans. Research into the few remaining hunter-gatherer Amazonian tribes, South African Bushmen and isolated Inuit families of a few decades ago, indicate they practised the ‘virtues’ of kindness, generosity, consideration, affection, honesty, hospitality, compassion, charity, humour, gentleness, equality, listening, egalitarianism, respect for the elderly, love of children, diligent respect for the land, plants and animals, ['virtues' too often missing in the 'developed' world], because to act otherwise was to put the family group in peril.
As our civilisations developed while under the yolk of theocracies, it is not surprising that Organised Religions remain their standard bearers, and this, in part, explains their dysfunctional nature. I understand Suskind’s aim, but don’t share his jaundiced view of human nature.

Dear ybgirp,

Thank you for being prepared to consider my position on Suskind. 

I'm not claiming I have the correct take on his work rather I consider it a great book precisely because it allows people to come at it from different perspectives and explore so many aspects of the human condition, a few of which we have touched on through this thread. Besides which, as others have attested, it is a captivating read.

It was an incredibly brave for a first novel.

So hats off to Poirot for posting it in the first place and my apologies for taking more than my fair share of the pie. I hope Lexi's issue is not too serious.

As to Suskind having a jaundiced view of humanity will you forgive me for pointing out yours has a wee tinge too.

"I am not, however, convinced that civilization has modified the unsavoury aspects of human behaviour, indeed, it would seem to have exacerbated them when you consider the wars that rage unceasingly and the increasing misery and starvation of billions. "

I am not saying you are wrong however the tribes of which you speak, while leading very community orientated lives were probably not as inclusive of other tribes encroaching on their resources.

Perhaps the best we can claim for civilization is that it allows for the congregation of huge masses of humanity into workable mega-communities.

I would like to think it delivers more than that but I can see your point.

csteele and ybgirp,

I think csteele makes a valid point, for mankind has always been tribal and doesn't often extend the same egalitarian virtues in the direction of those he considers outside his tribe.

Man may have advanced intellectually, but is still beholden to his baser instincts. The biggest challenge for his intellectual prowess and his religious leanings is in the intersection that arises between those constructs and his carnal and corporeal reality. He is a beast like other beasts - and yet he possesses the intellect to cut a swathe through nature and keep her at bay (to a certain extent) and to create psychological paradigms in which to seek shelter....always, however, they collide with his baser instincts and expose realities at odds with his carefully crafted idea of "civilised" conduct.

Hi everyone - I'm back and all's well.
Dealing with elderly parents takes a lot of
patience and understanding and it's made all
the more difficult when for them -
dementia has well and truly set in.
Still - who knows what awaits us further down the road.
But I digress.

Dear Poirot, once again Thanks for this thread.
These are the type of discussions that really make
this Forum so great - thanks of course to people
like yourself and those who contributed so interestingly.
For me - it's run its course so I shall see you all
on another thread.

Well argued, csteele and Poirot. However, the words base and baser when applied to instincts have a pejorative cast to them that disturbs me. Would you object to calling them basic instincts... as they are the basis of human [and all animal] survival? As for tribal instincts that make people defend their territories, you both seem to see that as a fault. I'm not so sure. There has to be some way to keep populations at a sustainable level. If the whip bird family that I love in my garden didn't violently expel intruders, they would die. And that goes for all species in a finite ecological system such as this planet. Our failure to protect the viability of our territories has resulted in a plague of humans that are exterminating life as we know it.
I like this, csteele: "Perhaps the best we can claim for civilization is that it allows for the congregation of huge masses of humanity into workable mega-communities."
I have come to the conclusion that civilization equals slavery [for vast numbers of people] The European colonies achieved wealth on the backs of slaves. We are maintaining our wealth by moving manufacturing to slave economies. Modern slavery is, if anything, worse than the traditional sort. At least then the owners had to provide food and shelter and protection. Today's slaves are given a minimum wage then left to fend for themselves. The result being poverty, starvation, disease, crime, corruption and misery on a planetary scale. We are insulated here in Australia, but when we run out of the free resources under the ground, reality will arrive. Any author who warns us about the results of basic instincts becoming base behaviour, is to be applauded. But being a sensitive bloke, I still couldn't read past the first few chapters.

ybgirp,

I don't find much to disagree with on your take of modern insulated society. And I don't think that our basic instincts are a bad thing.I think it's just the way we are and that usually those instincts are found incompatible with our higher intellectual constructs. We inhabit dual universes when it comes to the physical and the psychological worlds - and the further we progress along the developmental path, the more problems we have integrating our carnal selves with our intellectual and metaphysical constructs.

I believe that once we isolated ourselves psychologically from the natural world, of which we are a part, we invited the sort of fracture and angst that we modern humans experience. I'm not so sure that the mega-conglomerations we call cities are all that compatible with a healthy psychological state. I think we managed well enough in such urban atmospheres as long as local communities grew and socialised orgainically. The problems begin when services are centralised and institutions take the place of neighbourhood interaction and guidance...this seems to be the contemporary way.

Thanks Lexi for your contributions - always a pleasure.

And now the circle is complete, dear Poirot. I find myself in complete agreement with you.
Poor Lexi. My parents succumbed to dementia in their late eighties-nineties. All one can do is try never to make them feel stupid for forgetting and repeating themselves and wandering off.
Cheers till next time.

Dear ybgirp,

You seem to be trying to sustain two different arguments, the first is that civilization has "exacerbated ... the wars that rage unceasingly and the increasing misery and starvation of billions", the second is your defense of the very instinct at the heart of those malaises when you argue "tribal instincts that make people defend their territories, you both seem to see that as a fault. I'm not so sure."

The fate of the other whip bird family trying to find enough territory to sustain themselves is probably starvation.

I can only urge you to look more closely at the population/poverty trends and you might be surprised. I'm wondering if you have had a chance to see Hans Roslings TED talk? It certainly changed my world view.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hVimVzgtD6w&feature=youtube_gdata_player

I will contend that civilization is doing a pretty good job in moving us toward the population peak with many of us and our societies in one piece. Sure with a more equitable distribution of resources the figure could grow but compared to where we were half a century ago it ain't bad.

Civilization has produced legal systems that can negate the need to arm ones family or group in order to protect resources, extending that to countries we have of course the UN and diplomacy. 

That is not to say tribalism is dead it is just as a civilization we have found ways for its expression and enjoyment on our sporting fields rather than pillage and plunder.

Dear Poirot,

Thank you for some weighty posts.

You wrote "I think we managed well enough in such urban atmospheres as long as local communities grew and socialised organically."

Don't you think, for want of a better word, that base instinct or need is being realized particularly by our youth through Facebook and other social media. The communities they are constructing reach beyond the constrains that us parents place upon them, constrain we were free from when we were growing up.

Just as an aside I was watching a YouTube video of a flash mob at Antwerp Station tonight and all I could think of was how an individual without a sense of smell might have felt in the midst of some very strangely behaving people afflicted seemingly invisibly by Genouille's scent. It gets it's claws in.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQLCZOG202k&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Dear Lexi,

Thank you from me as well though I'm hoping you haven't left without realizing my post on the Hitler salute was tongue in cheek. 

csteele.

I think the key element particular to industrial society is its insistence on isolating certain sections of society from each other in their daily activities. When I say community, I mean "community" as in the entire spectrum. Modern youth seems to be segregated very early in modern society, so much so that the normal turbulence associated with adolescence is compounded as they adjust to an entry into the "adult world" from which they have been excluded during their formative years.

Here's another take from Ivan Illich comparing traditional and industrial society:

"...Traditional society was more like a set of concentric circles of meaningful structures, while modern man must learn how to find meaning in many structures to which he is only marginally related. In the village, language and architecture and work and religion and family customs were consistent with one another, mutually explanatory and reinforcing. To grow into one implied a growth into others...."

Csteele, every proposition can sustain at least two possible ‘truths’. Our apparent differences arise from the fact that you are thinking about civilised societies, and I’m contrasting pre-civilized tribal communities in which each individual was more or less independent, with civilized communities which demand inter-dependence of citizens, resulting in specialisation and, as we see, alienation of the different groups. Guarding territory was essential for the first group, and ensured their survival. However, with the technological advances encouraged by civilization, this instinct has become lethal.
The link you gave me is astonishing. Such graphics, and such a sensible man to propose that publicly funded research should be made available to the public. The conclusions people draw from these statistics will, of course, be determined by their values. The ‘wealth’ the speaker talks about is money, which is gained at the cost of poisoning the environment and changing the climate so that survival of life as we know it is increasingly unlikely. I don’t consider that to be wealth. Health, too, is more than longevity in a nursing home and child mortality. It includes mental health, which does not seem to be improving.
While there is much to admire in humans [I’ve just been moved to tears by Han Kim playing a Weber Clarinet concerto] I cannot admire a species that knowingly and deliberately causes massive extinction of life, dangerously destabilising the environment in which we evolved, for the chimera of financial wealth. I do not subscribe to the view that humans must survive at any cost.
Does the internet and facebook really compensate young people for the loss of wild nature, clean air and healthy rivers? I’m 71 and despite the insularity and narrow mindedness of society in my youth, we were richer in things of value to ‘life’ than today’s young people, who can never know the planet when it was not overcrowded and polluted. As for the UNO and laws keeping civilized folks playing sport instead of killing each other… really?? [continued next post]

Illich’s quote is good, Poirot, although life in small communities was bound by rigid conventions, and people who were different, suffered badly. Personally, I’ve led a charmed life, done what I want when I want, always convinced my present life is the best possible. I’m healthy and fit with no worries… and I suspect that’s why the direction civilization has taken so upsets me. I can see that were I born now, I could never have the life I’ve enjoyed. I realise young people will have other pleasures, but I cannot accept that the internet and facebook are adequate replacements for a reality that has all but disappeared.
Yes, as you suggest, my position is illogical and untenable. Civilization has allowed me to enjoy a perfect life, and yet I’m damning it. But I can’t stop thinking I’d have been just as contented as a hunter-gatherer a hundred thousand years ago. Oh dear… has dementia begun, do you think?

ybgirp,

I don't suggest that your position is illogical and untenable. If you're looking at things from an anthropological viewpoint, my opinion is that you're spot on. I usually gravitate toward that view myself...it's called looking beyond the paradigm in which you exist. I also agree that Facebook and other social media serve as a tool of socialisation, but are not and never can be replacements for organic community involvement. They represent an adaptation to technological society, a society nowadays where we are more isolated from each other than ever. There was a time where reliance on one's intimate community was part and parcel of social interaction, where the people you worked with were part of your social universe, where, as Illich points out, most education was "complex, lifelong and unplanned."

Dear ybgirp,

I'm a glass half full kinda guy and Hans Rosling shines a light on a future that is a touch less glum than many of our less optimistic would have us believe, although I accept their take may have some validity.

I know it is a race between reaching a peak world population before we do wholesale, irreversible damage to the environment's ability to sustain us as a species, or see us erupt into wholesale slaughter of each other for scarce resources. Han's figures showing such a dramatic drop, in such a short time, in birth rates across the world gives me hope. We are taming the drive for procreation without snuffing out its pleasures. Could we be doing that better? Of course, but it is simply awe inspiring to me what has been achieved.

After that peak is reached, if of course we reach it in one piece, then a whole new set of challenges will arise like how to keep an economy going with decreasing numbers of people and caring for a burgeoning geriatric population.

As to idyllic notions of pre-civilized tribal communities I think any fair assessment, even of our own indigenous folk, or our northern neighbours the Papuans whose whole culture in many cases was based around tribal warfare, might force a reality check. Tahiti did sound like paradise however.

Considering the idealism of our childhoods I'm old enough to know they were also about policemen doing their rounds but ignoring the sounds of husbands beating wives, of clergy molesting our friends without being challenged, of sadistic teachers, of alcohol driven carnage on our roads and of deep corruption and brutality within our police forces.

Dear Poirot,

Your last few post have raised a number of issues and you will have to forgive me for focussing on just one, but I feel teasing it out might help address some of the others.

I am of the mind that in many ways Facebook and other social media being adopted by our youth is a return to the 'village'. Anyone who has lived in a small town knows that privacy is often in scant supply. That past deeds were always remembered and never expunged from the community memory. Gossip, while often malicious, also served to ensure shady traders or cheating husbands or wives were outed. A more positive aspect was people seeing each other growing, sharing their ups and down, celebrating births and commiserated loss.

But our generation got anal about privacy. Was it the Cold War or itinerant populations or something else I don't know but we are an aberration.

The lack of respect shown by this new generation for their own and others privacy horrifies us, but it directly echoes the village scene we lament has gone forever.

I do not have a personal Facebook page. Both my children do with literally hundreds of friends on them. Is it a bad thing?

My cousin and I would normally catch up at best a dozen times a year. His child and my two stay in touch on almost a daily basis. That closeness is afforded purely by the technology. They know the important and not so important goings on in each others lives and there is no doubt it enhances empathy.

It is easy for our generation to scoff at these 'cyber' relationships but it is our 'programming' that keeps us from recognizing that this new paradigm may be fulfilling or extending the capacity for relationships of our race, and in some ways reflecting the village life of old.

Perhaps they are on their way to beating the curse of itinerancy that our modern economies have forced upon our populations.

It is too early to judge one way or the other.

csteele,

Very good point!

Yes, I did seem dismissive, but you're right that Facebook provides a venue to talk about any old thing - and in that respect it's hanging washing on the line for all (your "friends") to see. So I think you're analogy and comparison to a village is apt to some extent.

This is so embarrassing. I've been cursed with the ability to see at least three sides of every argument, thus I agree with everything you both write with such clarity and thought, while hanging on to my own opinions. I accept that no human society can ever be perfect, for obvious reasons, and that every positive is balanced by a negative. I'd hate to go back to the fifties, but it does seem a shame we didn't keep the good bits while chucking out the bad.
Such an interesting observation, csteele, about the desire for privacy. I could never share myself on a social network site. Apart from the privacy issue, most of what's written seems somewhat banal.
And yes, the rate of population increase is declining, but the rate of growth remains alarming.
Fortunately for my peace of mind, I accept there's nothing I can do about the way human civilization develops.

Dear Poirot and ybgirp,

Forgive me for continuing to prattle just on closing time and off topic, I just felt my argument needed a little more fleshing out before finishing so here are a couple of observations on the fly.

I agree with ybgirp and am not sure Illich's concentric circles every really existed in the manner portrayed. 

Facebook can be represented as intersecting circles where work, school, family, friends, fellow hobbyists, sporting mates all overlap to some extent and their reach is obviously greater, but so are the intersecting areas.

I am interested in how much these structures, represented by each ring, will be preserved over time. For instance will ones high school friendships suffer the same attrition that they once did when one heads off to university and new relationships? There was certainly a retained interest in the past as evidenced by the typical turnout at school reunions. However I think the medium will help maintain and even strengthen circles in the future.

Poirot said;

 "There was a time where reliance on one's intimate community was part and parcel of social interaction, where the people you worked with were part of your social universe, where, as Illich points out, most education was "complex, lifelong and unplanned."

Could well be talking about Facebook.

There has been a degree of concern about prospective employers accessing Facebook pages to ascertain if one is suitable for employment within their firms. But the younger generation are far more accepting of that possibility. When we think what would have happened in the village scenario it isn't that much different.

"I'm thinking of giving Jim's boy a job at my mill, you know he and his father well enough, what do you think? I mean I know he was one of the lads who burnt down the ferriers hay shed a few years ago, am I doing the right thing?"

"He is alright, not as bright as some and easily led, but has a strong back and is a great worker, keep him away from Simon's lad and you will have no trouble."

Cont...

Cont...

I also have a feeling accountability is being strengthened. My two are very aware of the things that might end on Facebook and it definitely impacts their behaviour.

It is a behavioral adjustment I think I am too old to make but they are embracing it.

Having insisted my two go through their friends list with me I know the variety of ages represented. I think the structures based on age Poirot raised earlier are also being eroded by the medium.

I do feel we need to be careful about letting our prejudices get in the way of the world that is being created through the technology by our young. On some very real levels it may well prove superior.

Poirot's point about being divorced from the natural world is valid and harder to address. But even here there are exceptions. I wonder if you know anything about the Geochaching community? While I am a part timer the cousin I spoke of earlier is a huge participant. It involves people placing hidden caches in often very picturesque locations for others to find via GPS and contribute to. Yes there is an iPhone app for it. It is treasure hunting for all ages and continues to grow wildly in popularity.
http://geocaching.com.au/

It is hardly the stuff of growing of foodstuffs with a deep appreciation of the seasons but our new technologies can, without ever replacing, sometimes be facilitators rather than always devaluers in these respects.

csteele,

I'm sure that Illich's concentric circles existed - and still exist in traditional societies. It's us in the modern rational world who free float in intellectual space, which is simultaneously liberating and overwhelming.

Facebook can only transmit thought that is in turn processed and reacted to. Gone are the subliminal physical characteristics of personal interaction. Often communication is delivered in abrupt or staccato fashion - information often devoid of overall context.
We underestimate the power of physical expression in our human state. It's left to our imagination to fill in the blanks. It's something that we accomplish fairly well, although humans evolved to subliminally absorb the physical world around them. We give that sort of psychological trellis short shrift these days, and I think more than ever in our human to human interactions. I think, however, that social media like Facebook does help people keep in touch.

I'm not against online communication, but we should ponder the medium. Here on OLO I can discern those who I'm attracted to...but we only deliver that information which suits us. We don't see the entirety of the person at all. And although that can happen in real life, it's much harder to accomplish.

Your example of people being given the experience of a "treasure hunt" is interesting. I'm always fascinated by modern society's penchant to replace a normal ramble with an artificially contrived one and a reward as a lure to participate

Just wanted to add that I agree with ybgirp that this is the way civilisation is going - and that I'm aware also that, for the most, part, all we can do is sit and watch it unfold.

Do any of you ever get the feeling (that often occurs to me) that all this marvellous technological communication is temporary? I often feel that gee this is fun, but somewhere along the line it's not something that can be sustained...just a personal feeling.

Ah, yes, Poirot. Body language. Face to face I never make enemies. On line in fora such as this I frequently manage to alienate and suffer the slings and arrows of misunderstanding. [sob]
My grandmother taught me the joys of walking in nature, the pleasurable experience being sufficient reward. Walking, not racing from point to point in a car directed by satellite technology through handsets made by Apple's slaves in poisonous factories where illness and death at early age is the norm. My i-pad cost me several hundred dollars, but like the i-phone, it cost Apple a mere $4.00 to make including wages.
Humans only 'see' and 'experience' and truly appreciate if they are walking, sitting or standing still. Driving in a car is the same as watching a documentary on TV. Global free trade; lauded in Hans Rosling's video as the saviour of Mauritania, is another furphy. The beautiful, hand made and printed cotton garments of Niger are now virtually extinct because cheap Chinese imitations have put both the cotton growers and textile manufacturers out of business. Today my giant banksia fell. Without the influx of cheap Asian imports, a local cabinetmaker would have turned the beautiful timber into articles of lasting value. It is now sliced up for firewood. Free trade in the current global financial system creates slaves and destroys local industry.

Dear Poirot and ybgirp

Lol, I think I am on a hiding to nothing here. I feel like whistling the final song in The Life Of Brian. Oh well.

I wonder if there were the same concerns when the telephone was introduced? Disembodied voices down scratchy lines.

I think the popularity for social media for our youth has come about precisely because of the constraints we have placed upon our children's freedoms. In this respect I am agreeing with ybgirp, as a lad of seven I was out until all hours riding my bike and going bush with mates and having a ball. I think the circle for a time had constricted to the nuclear family particularly within our cities. We had become preoccupied with the safety of our children to the detriment of their psychological and developmental well-being. It is not our fault as protecting our young is a base instinct and perhaps the stresses and strains, especially with two working parents, have served to heighten that instinct.

Social media is a hole in that fence, enhanced by the fact that many parents are less than savvy about the medium. If a child is unlucky enough to have a tech-head for a father there can be interesting ramifications.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SOASUVOmkYQ&feature=related

Only in America.

Cont...

Cont...

I wonder Poirot if some of the promise of the NBN might return, not entirely of course, some of the physical interaction you see as missing in modern communication?

“The full-sized screens meant that delegates could have proper, emotionally-charged meetings - it wasn't like looking at a small computer screen with someone struggling to communicate on Skype with terrible audio. Ministers were raving about it, especially those from Perth. Every occasion where ministerial staff didn't have to travel to Canberra meant that they weren't out of the office for three days and didn't come back jetlagged and travel weary. How much do we ordinarily pay these three people to travel for three days?”
“In a separate example, someone missed a flight and had to appear at an overseas meeting using telepresence. When he got to the next meeting, everyone thought he had been at the previous meeting - they'd forgotten that he'd attended remotely.”
http://www.abc.net.au/technology/articles/2012/02/21/3435975.htm

Yet I don't think that the young will be drawn away from the medium they have created for themselves. Very few I know use Skype even when it is available and email is used sparingly if at all. Social media allows them access to and relationships with, historically unprecedented numbers of people in a manner that none of the old media would be capable of.

Time will tell if they end up living more, or less, fulfilled lives than we have but I'm happy to wish them well in the venture.

No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as a manor of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.

I get the sense that this is truer for this generation than any in the past.

csteele,

I'm not of the opinion that online communication is wholly negative. Like I said, it's an adaptation to technology, and we should be heartened that the gravitational pull of humans to interact is so powerfully in evidence. I love that I can come on OLO and interact with other inquiring minds, offer up my opinions and debate issues. I'm often intrigued at the way all us use this medium to validate our views, ourselves and to polish our egos. I'm aware that is what I do sometimes. It's great when you learn something or someone agrees with you or gives you kudos for raising something oblique. I discuss issues with friends and family, but I find a more conducive atmosphere and a wider circle of opinions on OLO.

Your point about the modern day restrictions on our children and youth is extremely pertinent. We have taken away their freedoms and their sense of independence - valuable tools in development. I think you're right that Facebook and like social media are their routes of escaping the stultifying "protections" we have constructed. My ten year-old son occasionally brings up that point and asks why he can't have a Twitter account or his own blog. I tell him he's too young because online communication is far removed from neighbourhood involvement in times past where checks and balances were in place (for the most part) to mitigate naivety and vulnerability.

Please excuse me for jumping back into this discussion
and blame me for my warped sense of humour - but reading
your posts about technology I can't resist this old
joke that I've just come across while cleaning out the
desk in my study. I apologise for it ahead of time.
Here goes:

A new ALDI supermarket opened in Toowoomba recently.
It has an automatic water mister to keep the produce fresh.
Just before it goes on, you hear the distant sound of
thunder and the smell of fresh rain. When you pass the milk
cases, you hear cows mooing and you experience the scent of
freshly cut hay.

In the meat department, there is the aroma of charcoal
grilled steaks and bratwurst.

When you approach the egg cases, you hear hens cluck and cackle
and the air is filled with the pleasing aroma of bacon and eggs
frying.

The bread department features the tantalizing smell of freshly
baked bread and cakes.

I don't buy toilet-paper there anymore!

Delightful joke, Lexi
Ah, so much of interest and food for thought.
csteele: "I wonder if there were the same concerns when the telephone was introduced? Disembodied voices down scratchy lines."
Our first telephone was a 'party' line, shared with four other families. my best friend's mother worked the manual exchange. as 12 year olds we's sometimes helped: plug in the lines, ask 'number please' connect and press the lever long, short, short, or whatever the code was. His mother listened in to conversations and spread gossip, and the other people on our line listened to ours. I've been left with a phobia about telephones and avoid making personal calls to this day.
Poirot: 'We have taken away their freedoms and their sense of independence - valuable tools in development. ' More importantly, perhaps, especially for boys, we've removed the possibility of danger and adventure. There are fences around all the dangerous escarpments we used to scale and perch on as kids.
csteele: 'Time will tell if they end up living more, or less, fulfilled lives than we have.' As a teenage Sci-Fi fan, I vividly recall one future scenario in which humans lived alone in small cells, comfortable, all services provided, spending their days communicating all over the planet with friends by vid-com. Robots prevented them leaving their rooms, but no one wanted to anyway. Except for one fellow who, braving death, managed to escape to the top of the vast warren, then heave open a trapdoor to be confronted by the wondrous spectacle of blue skies, fresh air, life, space and nature... At the time I thought it a little far fetched, now I see it has already happened in many of the world's vast cities where people are trapped [by fear of violence, age, infirmity, sloth] in tiny apartments spending a large part of their days emailing, facebooking and twittering [what an apt name]. I communicate with a couple of them from pity.

ybgirp,

It's often the case that sci-fi foretells the future with uncanny accuracy.

csteele,

Just a thought...poor Grenouille would never have coped in an online world. He hated people, but his sense of smell was his means of identifying their type.....no recourse to smell in online interaction.

Yes, phones, photography and the like must have seemed miraculous (still does to me somehow) I remember another of Proust's musings on the telephone, which was new to Paris when he was writing...I'll dig it out. I remember him being incredulous that you could pick up a device and talk to someone far away.

Dear ybgirp and Poirot,

I think you both sell science fiction short, it not only has a habit of accurately predicting the future it often inspires it.

Any fan of Star Trek: The Next Generation would have seen iPads in the hands of the characters 23 years ago. And all inspired because the original set designers didn't have the budgets for knobs.
http://arstechnica.com/apple/news/2010/08/how-star-trek-artists-imagined-the-ipad-23-years-ago.ars

My current favourite SF author is Ian M Banks. His characters are often very dark but incredibly well written.

I have a feeling your plot ybgirp while sounding Phillip K Dick-ish was possibly an Asimov story.

The good ones certainly stay with you. One I remember vividly was a planet with a large jelly like mass that resided in a cave and where people went to be consumed by it. They offered up full confessions and then stepped into it to be absorbed. Their souls were preserved and could converse with others including past relatives. A heaven on earth. The only proviso was you had to enter it alive. So the people became extremely cautious and risk adverse.

However the tale I feel is most pertinent to our conversation thus far is about sex, tribes, risk and the future fulfilling fiction. It was in an Australian SF anthology I read as a teenager and I have yet to rediscover the book or this particular writer.

The story goes something like this.

There was a drug company who had created a small blue pill (it may have been for sexual dysfunction though that might be the future rejigging the past) but it had a side effect, it turned men's penises bright blue. 

The drug company was of course sued right royally but as it was a typically wealthy drug company the case danced around the courts for years, decades in fact. 

As the huge quantities the pills that had been produced were evidence, the courts ordered they not be destroyed until the case was concluded.

Cont...

Cont...

 So the company decided they would be all stored on a pacific island complete with armed guards, dogs and razor wire to prevent more blue penises joining the class action.

Money was paid to the island's chieftain as rent but the islanders had no idea about the pills, their side effects or the legal situation. All that the young men of the tribe knew was something that required that much protection must be valuable. 

So they chanced their luck against the guards, the dogs and the wire to steal some. A few were shot, many chickened out but the brave few who made it all ended up with, you guessed it, bright blue penises.

And didn't the young women of the tribe simply adore those young men. The brighter the blue the more attractive to the opposite sex they became.

Over the years it became a rite of passage for the young men of the island and the term penis envy took on a whole new hue.

Then one day news arrived that the judge had thrown out the class action but ordered the company to pay a substantial amount to the islanders as he had learnt about the deaths.

So what did the chief, a wise man do? He waived the settlement fee on the proviso the company keep the pills in storage on his island, and that the guards were to be paid in perpetuity to act as before. It had become ingrained in the culture of his people.

Perhaps reading this as a hormone addled teenager might explain a little of its impact on me but I thought it was terrific.

I have often wondered if the maker of Viagra, in choosing the final colour of their pill had ever read the story.

csteele,
Blue penises sound rather fetching… An interesting tale about prejudice and sexual repression, very appropriate for Australia. Science Fiction has been virtually the only secular ‘moral compass’ for people like me who are unable to accept that pleasing an irascible, irrational, invisible superman in the sky is a sane basis for making moral decisions.
I certainly don’t sell sci-fi short. In many ways it was a lifesaver, allowing me to feel OK about being/thinking/acting differently from others. The story could have been by Asimov, however I was also a collector of the many monthly Sci-Fi short story paperbacks that appeared until the late fifties, so perhaps it was in one of them… Many of these anthologies are now available free from e-book sites such as http//manybooks.net. gutenberg.. etc. Most are a bit silly in hindsight, but all are mind expanding in some way. Star Trek, like Star Wars and most such films, spent much time on war at the expense of other problems facing humanity.
Theodore Sturgeon remains my ultimate favourite moral and inventive writer, especially with his ‘Venus plus X’ and ‘More than Human’. Heinlein, too, opened many a reader’s eyes to the possibilities of moralities far more satisfactory than the repressive regimes under which most humans continue to cower.
Back to ‘Smells’, Was there an uplifting moral alternative suggested in the book? Or was it simply an observation of the nature of humanity?

Dear ybgirp,

I hear blue penises are all the rage in Alaska, though quite a small issue most of the year.

You certainly are showing you SF bent expecting a moral in each tale. Ian M Banks certainly has moved past that. Think Cormack McCarthy and Blood Meridian set in space. I don't think a moral imperative is a prerequisite now. Closer to home I think Tim Winton's Cloud Street had one but Breath did not, or at least not one I could discern.

That isn't to say morality isn't a function of the novel, rather it is external, implicit in the impact on people forced through the reading, to examine their society, their own lives and how they conduct themselves.

Perfume does this beautifully. I'm happy to expand on why if you like.

I will leave you with a question only us secularists can properly ponder. 

Does God have a smell? 

Esteemed csteele, there lies the rub with written communication, one has to be concise yet explicit. There’s nothing worse than a moral ‘lesson’ shoved down one’s eyes, so to speak, all I meant was that after reading, I like to know that the ‘good’ guys [those who espouse my opinions and values] win—or should have. Have you read Pandaemonium, by Christopher Brookmyre? I intend to read the works you mentioned. Freethinkers’ morals are usually a collection of values that were implicit in the actions of their parents and others, not the result of indoctrination.
Your expansion on the morality implicit in Perfume would be interesting. But only if you have nothing better to do. I’ll force myself to read Perfume. After the film I was put off. Time for a little self-discipline.
I wish I could think of witty things, such as your Alaska quip.
As for the smell of god. I assume, as you used a capital G, you’re referring to the Christian version. Indeed it does, but in the figurative sense such as, ‘He has the smell of success’. In the case of God, it’s the smell of chicanery, greed, corruption, lust for power.

Dear ybgirp,

You have made an astute observation about written communication and I agree, but I also take delight in its ambiguities.

For instance your post may be read as matter-of-fact or as a small rap over my knuckles. If it is the latter I do need to watch developing a lecturing tone and my humour can admittedly be a little droll. While remaining mindful of that I will proceed as though it was the former.

And I apologise in advance because this too will sound like a lecture but I want to float this thesis for the sake of the conversation.

When I was younger I also sought refuge and meaning in sci-fi works. In their way they provided what many of the great religions do, the moral compass you spoke of, a utopian vision, of realms unexplored, of the fight between good and evil, clearly delineated good guys and bad guys. I loved it and I know how despised sci-fi literature was by the fundamentalist Christians (my wife's family were dead against it) precisely because it was a threat or a potential rival to hearts and minds.

Yet for a generation who was intent on moving away from formalized religion it provided an excellent half way house.

It was probably Conrad and Swift who were the two early influential writers to further expand my views. In fact reading Swifts chapter on the Yahoos and Houyhnhnms was one of the most revelatory experiences I have had.

I'm going to make an observation and a point that hopefully you won't take as a slight but as something to discuss and demolish as you see fit.

To me your rather jaundiced view of the world and its prospects reflect those of some of the more strident Christians I know.

Cont...

Cont...

'Perfume' is a dark work but it is a babe compared to 'Blood Meridian'. I have gone and drunk from the well of many a bleak but revelatory work and found they've served to have me taking, for want of a better expression, a more tender and forgiving approach to the human race and its prospects.

Yet I had a small moment of regret after suggesting Blood Meridian to you, just as I would be reticent in recommending it to a Christian. Why? Because I know there is some tearing down involved before one can really appreciate and benefit from the fruits of a book such as this.

I have forgotten to whom I lent my copy of Perfume as it was so long ago therefore I purchased another this morning. I also looked for 'Venus plus X' but to no avail so will try elsewhere when I get a chance.

I am more than happy to make time to discuss Perfume in depth and would certainly be comfortable doing it chapter by chapter if you had a copy. I'm positive there will benefits for me in revisiting it after all these years with older eyes.

Your description of the smell of God was also a touch jaundiced, perhaps not unreasonably so given some of his adherents.

Let me have a try.

The Jewish bible g-d might be thought of as smelling manly, virile, earthy, combative. The Christian or New Testament God to me would smell like an older man, musty and tweedy, usurped by his son and relegated by many modern Christians to the monastery.

Have you delved into the bible recently?

Dear csteele,

Is OLO the place for this sort of exchange of ideas? Would you prefer a different venue?

I can’t remember the last time I took offence at anything anyone said or wrote. Rest assured my ego is intact and self healing and I love being lectured at/to. There was not the slightest intention of rapping you over the knuckles, not my style. I was laughing at myself for my pomposity—I thought. Your writing doesn’t seem like a lecture…feel free to say exactly what you want.

I recently re:-read some of Conrad’s short stories. Can’t imagine why I thought he was so great. Like Swift and so many others, the social criticism is there, but didn’t/doesn’t apply to my circumstances.

My’ jaundiced view of the world’. Mmm. Bitterness, resentment, envy are the three nearest synonyms, none of which are applicable. I have zero bitterness, having had possibly the best life anyone could wish for, done everything I wanted to do, ending up fit and healthy in a natural paradise with a partner of 46 years and no regrets. I resent nothing that has happened, or not happened, and envy no one.

It is possible for me to like individual humans, while simultaneously regretting that a plague of humanity is destroying the natural system in which we evolved. Am I strident? Expressing my point of view in an excessively and unpleasantly forceful way? If so, then I apologise. I guess a father shouting at his child to get out of the way of the oncoming steamroller would also sound strident.

But I know what you mean. Why should I care? I’ve no children to suffer the future, for which I am grateful, I’ll be dead in twenty years or so, I’m in a good place unaffected by the imminent collapse of things. No one else seems to give a tinker’s cuss about what’s happening as long as they’re OK so why should I?.
[I am smiling.]

[contd]

Like a strident Christian, eh? Fundies are so sure they’re right they badger others in order to ‘save’ them and it seems as if I’m doing the same. Fair enough. It’s difficult for me to keep silent when confronted by zealots preaching expanding economies; expanding populations; expanding mining ports and dredging… Oops. Doing it again.

Blood Meridian. Cormack McCarthy. Great title. Sounds sickening. I do feel tender towards humanity, but not to the perpetrators of atrocities, which is why I rant and rave. I’m well aware of ‘evil’ having been on the receiving end of a bit.

The ‘smells’ of your God had me laughing aloud. I’m very familiar with the bible. The Old Testament God by his own admission is jealous. He’s also vindictive, insanely aggressive and bloodthirstily cruel in the retribution he exacts on the foes of his chosen few. Demanding entire cities, men women and children be slaughtered for peccadillos. The N.T. bloke is, I agree, more or less irrelevant, having delegated most duties to Mary, her son and a plethora of saints. My analysis isn’t jaundiced. The whole dogmatic nonsense of the big three organised religions is too absurd for me to take seriously.

I understand that most people need a religion, and think none the less of them for that. But the bible as a reference manual on how to live in 2012? Were its ‘laws’ enforced, I’d have been murdered in the name of God sixty years ago.
I’ll get a copy of Perfume… that will make 343 books waiting on my e-book readers to read. [I am smiling]

Dear ybgirp,

I'm happy to have the discussion here on OLO unless you had another preference. It is Poirot's thread but they seem to have left us the keys and as long as we tidy up before we leave I'm sure they won't mind.

I find OLO, among other things, to be an excellent reference of ones positions in threads over the years, some of which I have enjoyed revisiting more than once. I realize this is only afforded to us through the hard work and good graces of Mr Young and while it is not a permanent record it is a great tool while it lasts.

The reason why you thought Conrad was great is that is exactly what he is. He can certainly appeal on one level to the Boys Own in us, particularly in our youth. But if you are looking at he and Swift purely for their social criticism then you have only opened half the presents. Their examination of the human condition is what elevates them well past that role. There are parts of Lord Jim that still leave me stunned. That a seaman with English as his second language could have that power is impressive.

You have questioned my use of the word 'jaundiced', quoting its three nearest synonyms, bitterness, resentment, envy and wondering how they have applied to you.

May I ask the same of your comment of Suskind;

" I understand Suskind’s aim, but don’t share his jaundiced view of human nature."

How do the synonyms apply to him? I tend to see a jaundiced view point as one looking through the yellowed eyes of a jaundice patient as opposed to someone wearing 'rose coloured glasses'.

Cont...

Cont...

The label 'strident' I had reserved for the more vociferous Christians, my claim was merely that you shared a viewpoint about the sinful nature of humanity, though your definition of that sin is of course different.

There is a sense that both have given up on the world, you because you will be dead and not having to observe the inevitable destruction you see ahead, and they because they will be raptured up before the 'end times'.

I think anyone who professes a love of literature but through their prejudices neglects the great literary offerings contained in the Bible needs to take another look.

This was a thread on the Book of Job I kicked of a couple of years ago. A touch cringe worthy for me now as I was a little too excited but I think it still holds up.

http://forum.onlineopinion.com.au/thread.asp?discussion=2912&page=0

I am to be out of range over the next two days so will look forward to resuming the conversation on my return.

ybgirp and csteele,

On the contrary, I'm still here - have been following your conversation but since you both were talking about sci-fi (which, unfortunately, I have never read much of) I decided that maybe I could learn more from just reading your conversation.

I will have another ponder of Perfume, because it does seem so rich in metaphor and speaks so loudly of the outcast or "otherness". I'll see if I can add any more to the analysis of its meaning by the time csteele returns. (if it was up to me, there would always be a literature thread going on OLO)

Isn't it great that a thread with the unfortunate title of "Smells" has managed nearly 100 comments : )

I'm still here as well - like a sponge soaking everything up.
What a great thread this has turned out to be - and so much
food for thought. From one question - "What does God smell like?"
started me pondering on "What does God look like?" and onto -
even another one - "Do the vast majority of modern mainstream -
Christians, Jews, and Muslims seek a better life on earth,
rather than seeking it in heaven?"

Then of course we have the major politico-religious divide.
We have the splintering into antagonistic sects, and even deadly
religious enemies, who make a common future for humankind and
extremely difficult project to bring to fruition.

How are we ever going to solve threats to all of humanity
(and the planet) by climate change, over population and other
serious environmental problems, if we can't leave our fellows
to safely practice their own religion?

So many questions.

I'm really enjoying being an observer too.

Lexi, the 100th 'smelly' comment ... that stinks :)

How can one smell if one does not exist?
Perhaps then, smell is in the nose of the beholder.

"Perhaps then, smell is in the nose of the beholder."

I say, bonmot, you're rather poetic on a Sunday, aren't you : )

Poirot: As a metaphor for ‘outcasts’, it seems a shame to choose someone so degraded. Most outcasts are presentable, and only in that state due to circumstances beyond their control—frequently religious intolerance.

Lexi asks: ..."What does God look like?"
Which god are you talking about? Humans have apparently worshipped over 20,000 gods in recorded history, all of which demonstrated human fallibilities and desires. To a doubter, such questions have no meaning.
This is a good one:- "Do the vast majority of modern mainstream - Christians, Jews, and Muslims seek a better life on earth, rather than seeking it in heaven?"
If they do, then they’re only playing at religion, because the dogmas of all three are explicit in their assertions that this life is merely a stopover in which humans are tested to see if they’re good enough to be granted eternal life, and the more slings and arrows that come your way, the more chance you have of sitting down to sup with your god.
You also ask:-
“How are we ever going to solve threats to all of humanity (and the planet) by climate change, over population and other serious environmental problems, if we can't leave our fellows to safely practice their own religion?”
As this life is [according to the big three religions] irrelevant, then the problems you mention don’t matter. And there can never be harmony between them because all are monotheistic. When you’ve only the one god who is perfect, then you have to persecute all usurpers, otherwise you’re accepting that your god isn’t perfect. Religions with lots of gods don’t have that problem.

@Bonmot: “...perhaps smell is in the nose of the beholder.”
Good one. Certainly how individuals appreciate the smell is personal

ybgirp,

I think Grenouille was mindful of his otherness. On his way to his ultimate concoction of scent, he experimented with another which he found made him feel as if he was part of the great throng of humanity. He was aware that he wasn't like them - even that he despised them - but was amazed that 'they' seemed to accept him as one of 'them'. At a street parade he joined in, even holding a child aloft to see the spectacle passing in front. The fact that he used this invented scent to camouflage his otherness and blend in points to the fact that he was outcast from the natural affinities of the humanity around him - circumstances beyond his control?

Poirot: "...he was outcast from the natural affinities of the humanity around him - circumstances beyond his control?"
Yes, I think so. We are born with our characters pretty much intact, which accounts for the enormous diversity of human nature. And try as we will, we end up being 'true to ourselves', be that a social recluse or irritating busybody. His perfume of social acceptance is a metaphor for the efforts people make to 'fit in' to be 'accepted' but these efforts seldom last, and they drift back to their old ways, always hoping to find someone of like mind.

Life's but a metaphor Poirot, even on Sundays (imho :)

.

ybgirp: you raise a 'smelly' concept so not entirely off topic.

>> We are born with our characters pretty much intact, which accounts for the enormous diversity of human nature. <<

Perhaps I read you wrong, but I would have thought our 'life experience' pretty much 'shapes' our character (and our senses) - you know, the ye olde 'nature - nurture' debate?

bonmot... "Perhaps I read you wrong, but I would have thought our 'life experience' pretty much 'shapes' our character (and our senses) - you know, the ye olde 'nature - nurture' debate?"
Only last night there was a piece about the sons and daughters of a dozen different mothers all of whom had been artificially inseminated with the sperm of the same bloke. All the kids grew up not knowing each other or their father, yet now as young adults they finally met and discovered to their amazement that they shared a wide variety of character similarities as well as bodily and facial features, interests and personal idiosyncrasies.
All the children in a family are brought up in a similar environment and nurtured similarly, but usually differ in character so markedly that, unless there's a strong physical resemblance, strangers don't realise they're siblings. In my own case, one of four, there is nothing in my character, interests, abilities... that's similar to my siblings. I reckon that pretty well places nature streets ahead of nurture, which, in my opinion, merely fine-tunes inherent abilities and inclinations.

bonmot and ybgirp.

It's always an interesting question. I don't know that nature is "streets ahead" of nurture. ybgirp, you seem to saying on the one hand that those estranged siblings who had the same father had quite a few similarities - meaning that nature had a strong influence...and yet you mention that your own siblings differ markedly from yourself, meaning that nature apparently did not have much impact in your characters - and nor did nurture.

My own experience in that area is a trite confusing. I met a half-sister ten years ago for the first time. Her father was Nordic, whereas mine was American of indigenous Indian decent. So our looks are quite different. I can glean certain similarities, and perhaps we'll find more when we get longer opportunities to spend time together (she's in NSW and I'm in WA). We both are quite good at visual art, but her style is markedly different to mine - I'm a good draughtsman with limited aptitude for composition and she is a less of a draughtsman but is a wonderful stylist who draws and paints in a totally different manner and who seems to glide into strong composition almost without trying. My adult daughter is also one who draws and is a keen photographer - and again seems to have an eye for colour and composition.
And I can also glean certain psychological dispositions that are shared, but in differing degrees, between my sister, myself, our mother (whom I never met but have been told about) and my daughter.
However, it does seem to me that life experience does have an immense impact in honing and shaping the character we inherit.

To me smell is indeed personal - and a trigger for memories.
When I was little - the sweet smell of incense - represented the
church - and the church represented God. So I guess in my
"salad days" (fresh and green), God smelt like incense.

Which again reminds me of another joke...

A gay guy goes into the Catholic Church for the first time with a
friend. A special ceremony is taking place in which the bishop in
his full regalia is celebrating a mass and swinging the incense
backwards and forwards on the altar. As the bishop - walks down
the aisle swinging the incense - the guy leans forward and whispers
an aside to the bishop:

"Love your hat and outfit dear,
But your handbag's on fire!"

Ha ha! - good one, Lexi.

I have good friends who are church-attending Catholics - they'll like that one.

...which reminds me, in the local parish we have a rather splendid Catholic deacon. He's married but gets to perform some rites to assist the priests. The thing is that he is so enamoured of his position that he usually dresses up in the most stunning regalia - brocade and smarm apparently are his speciality - he so totally outdoes the priests in performance and costume that they pale in comparison. I'm not a Catholic but I've been to a few masses, although sadly in those he wasn't performing.

Dear Poirot,

Glad you liked that one - it's one of my favourites.

Ah, the memories of a Catholic upbringing. So many stories
to tell. I remember the agonising days of going to confession
to my favourite Irish priest (who was deaf as a post).
We were taken as a school group to our local parish church -
every Friday. And of course all of us girls would pray that
we didn't get this particular deaf priest. He was a lovely
man - but not good at hearing confessions -
because of his tendency to shout at everything you said.
Of course as luck
would have it - I was destined to strike out each Friday.
Much to my dismay - I'd get into the confessional - to see
that it was him - hearing my confession.

I would tell him - relatively harmless things - like -
"Father I didn't go to church last Sunday." And he'd literally
bellow back at me at the top of his lungs, "You did WHAT?"
much to my embarrassment with my girlfriends waiting for me
outside the confessional wondering just what was it
that I had done. I'd
leave the confressional with my head down, and red as a beet -
trying not to make eye-contact - with my giggling friends.

The smell of incense still - triggers all those memories - (and more)
for me today.

*We are born with our characters pretty much intact, which accounts for the enormous diversity of human nature*

I have to agree with Ybgirp here. Alot more is genetic, then we are
aware of or care to admit. In my own case that is certainly the
truth.

Studies on identical twins separated at birth, are another great
source of information on the topic.

I had a friend years ago, who fathered a number of kids around the
place, some of whom he never got to meet. I know a couple of his
sons and they walk like their dad, talk like their dad and act
like their dad. I'm blown away every time I meet them.

But sometimes genes will skip a generation or two. Check out the
grandies etc. Thats what my mom has a hard time understanding
when she tries to lecture me about my bad qualities, like being
untidy and I remind her that I was an innocent sperm swimming along
and minding my own business, when all the rest is all her
responsibility :)

Dear Poirot,
How embarrassing. You are correct. I do shoot myself in the foot rather. All us siblings are different, but we each strongly resemble other relatives—grandparent, uncle, aunts. Does that redeem my argument? Probably not.
The artistic bent in your family is interesting, as is your parentage. I’ve always had a romantic image of North American Indians. Always dressed up as one at fancy-dress events as a kid. Any mathematicians in the family?
Excellent joke, Lexi. I wonder if Catholic prelates would continue to dress up in medieval garb if they had to wash, starch and iron all their own gear. Did you find confession—apart from the embarrassment, left you feeling emotionally better by eliminating guilt, fear, sadness etc?
You’re right, Yabby, genes often seem to skip generations. Boys inherit many characteristics from maternal grandmothers… mine gave me a large nose, parsimony and a tendency to weepy eyes when I laugh or feel sentimental.

Dear ybgirp,

Glad you liked the joke.

As for confession and how it made me feel?

I can't remember feeling relieved in any way.
I think I was too young to fully understand what
was going on. To me it was simply something that
I felt obliged to do. And actually as far as that
particular Irish priest was concerned - when I
didn't have much to tell him - I used to make
stuff up to pass the time. I felt I had to - so
that his time wouldn't be wasted. ;-)

Talking about American Indians though, - here's another joke
for you:

An English tourist on a tour of the American Indian REservations
was told by a local that the chief of this particular trading
post was psychic.

The English toruist was somewhat skeptical.

"There he is now," said the local man, pointing to the chief
who was sitting on a bench outside the store.
"Go ahead pal, ask him anything you like, you'll see, he'll
know the answer."

"Allright, I will," said the English tourist walking towards
the chief.

"Good Morning chief. They tell me you know everything around
here. OK can you tell me what I had for breakfast this morning?"

The chief looked at the English tourist and slowly replied,
"EGGS!"

"By George that's absolutely correct!," said the amazed
English tourist. "Well, I won't doubt your word again,"
he added to the local man.

Quite a few years went by, and the English tourist found himself
in the same Indian Reservation, and would you believe he saw
the same Indian chief sitting in the same spot on the bench
outside that store. The tourist walked towards the chief as
he had done in the previous time and by way of greeting
he said, "HOW, CHIEF!"
To which the chief calmly replied:
"SCRAMBLED!"

cont'd ...

And here's another one I just remembered:

One Saturday evening in mid June a very important Celebratory
Dinner was held at the famous Sheraton Hotel in Phoenix,
Arizona to honour the various American Indian tribes. The
Chiefs of the various tribes attended, all in their splendid
costumes, with full feathered headgear, et cetera.
Many famous celebrities had been invited as guests to this
event, and among them was the famous American comedian,
Billy Crystal.

Well, the way Billy tells the story, he found himself sitting
at the dinner table, next to one of the feathered Indian
Chiefs, and feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Billy tells us,
"I didn't know how to talk to this guy. The only thing that
I knew about American Indians was what I had seen in
American Western movies. So all night during dinner, I spoke
like "Tonto" to this guy, you know:

"You pass 'em butter.
You pass 'em bread.
You like 'em have more wine?"

And so on."

This went on all night until it came to "speech-time."
This guy stood up and made the most eloquent speech
I'd ever heard in the English language. Sheer poetry.
When he'd finished, he sat
back down next to me, turned to me with a sweet smile and asked:

"You like 'em speech?"

Dear Lexi,

As an Australian the name Billy Crystal just seems to jar and it will for you too now that I have mentioned it ;).

Just arrive back in range and thought I might indulge in a few words on Suskind.

It was admittedly with a little trepidation I delved back into Perfume yesterday, after all it has been many years since I last visited and I was worried the exuberance of youth may have elevated it then past its worth.

I am happy to report that, in my opinion, while appreciating there is a lack of polish in some of the writing (totally forgivable in a first novel, in fact even a touch charming), it held up exceedingly well.

I was a bit unsure how to proceed with an examination of the novel without being boring to others who might not have read it. For me the answers lies in Lexi's quote "So many questions". Questions are mainly universal, it is the answers that expose our differences. As ybgirp points out the question 'Is there a God' has produced over 20,000 answers thus far. For me a thread is most enjoyable when questions cause interesting digressions to occur like the one in play now.

To Perfume.

Firstly a little bit about the author. Suskind studied Medieval and Modern History at the University of Munich where his classes included Latin, Greek and Theology. Wikipedia says "he is probably the most well-known contemporary German artist in the world". Interestingly the entry also relates he lives reclusively and has withdrawn from the literary scene in German and no longer grants interviews or permits photographs.

There's a long tradition of Gothic writing in Germany where the genre is called ’Schauerroman’ (shudder novel). Very literal folk. To quote Wikipedia again "The works were often more horrific and violent than the traditional English Gothic novel".

A favourite Gothic novelist of my youth was Edgar Allen Poe and Wikipedia again informs us that "his critics complained about his "German" tales, to which he replied "That terror is not of Germany, but of the soul"."

Cont...

Cont...

I do wonder what he would have made of the Holocaust.

Suskind leaves us with little doubt we are about to read a Gothic tale. The full title is ’Perfume - The anatomy of a murderer.' and the opening line sets the tenor immediately;

"In eighteenth century France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages".

Why does it sometimes seem those who are extraordinarily gifted in one area seem to lack in another, often vital to their social acceptance? Or is it that the rest of us, aware of and perhaps feeling threatened by their differences, then treat them in different ways, excluding them from the familial exchanges that that help us to develop emotionally and socially?

Do the physical appearances of people (even their smell) dictate how others treat them?

For instance if the lads Yabby told us about all had goofy grins, protruding ears, slouching statutes, and slow diction (genetic), how much would those around them tend to treat them as a little backward, not deserving of the teacher's fullest attention in class, not included in the more technical discussions with their fathers, given tasks that don't tax them intellectually? (environment).

I think how others treat us is incredibly important to how we regard ourselves and therefore how we develop.
 

Dear csteele,

I agree with your last statement. It is important how
others treat us. It does impact on how we see ourselves
and does affect our development. I am still on my own
road of discovery. Everything is relative, everything has its
own story, and everyone has obstacles to overcome. They are
our greatest teachers. Each of us goes through transitions
and transformations. As a little girl, I was shy.
I wasn't comfortable with my own ideas, never believing
they were worthy of being heard. As I grew older,
I was afraid ot my own strength and worried that if I showed
too much - it would make me less attractive to men, or a
threat to women. I am finally beginning to realise that the
only path to happiness is to really be all that you can be.

Also I feel that the people that we encounter on our journey
through life also help shape us into the people we become
(and still hope to be). Every relationship is a gift. And we
can learn so much from each of them. Look at the great gifts
I've been given just by sharing cyberspace with so many
wonderful people. ;-)

Dear Lexi,

My eldest daughter is currently studying psychology at uni. As an elective she has taken a subject on children's literature. The conversation around the dinner table tonight was about the tale of Little Red Riding Hood and how it has changed from the original. It has gone from both the grandmother and the girl being eaten then to the girl escaping though the help of the strong axeman to the final example given: Roald Dahl's take with his second last verse being;

The small girl smiles. One eyelid flickers.
She whips a pistol from her knickers.
She aims it at the creature's head,
And bang bang bang, she shoots him dead.

I then read your post and it seemed to fit nicely with the last offering.

Tales like Little Red Riding Hood were certainly the precursors to the Gothic genre. Probably more so in this case as one of the more defining ingredients of a proper Gothic offering is the presence of a virginal maiden.

Suskind is really doing Gothic on a completely over the top manner, laying it on with thick brush strokes, seemingly determined to go that extra mile.

Take Genouille's birth place. Christ's may well have been humble enough but this was, we are told, in the foulest location  in France, the capital Paris. "And in turn there was a spot in Paris under the sway of particularly fiendish stench: between the rue aux Fers and the rue de la Ferronnerie, the Cimetiere des Innocencts to be exact." where for "eight hundred years, day in, day out, corpses by the dozens had been carted here and stacked into long ditches."

It was here among the offal of a fish mongers stall Genouille was born, "on the most putrid spot in the whole kingdom".

Cont...

Cont...

But why crank it up so much?

I do like the quote from Apolloiuns about the slave from around 600 BCE who gave us such classics as the Tortoise and the Hare and The Boy who cried Wolf, one Aesop with his moral fables.

"Then, too, he was really more attached to truth than the poets are; for the latter do violence to their own stories in order to make them probable; but he by announcing a story which everyone knows not to be true, told the truth by the very fact that he did not claim to be relating real events.".

It appears to be so true of Suskind.

I'm wondering what the younger Lexi thought of the Little Red Hood tale. Do you remember?

Chapter two starts as a welcome diversion from the horrors depicted so vividly in the first.

Here we have Genouille's wet nurse Jeanne Bussie (what a glorious name for a woman of her profession exuding the "scent of milk and cheesy wool") returning the baby to Father Terrier claiming "he has pumped me dry down to the bones" and "I've lost ten pounds and been eating like I was three women".

But it is only after the Priest (another essential Gothic ingredient) offers her substantially more money to continue to nourish the child only to be continually rebuffed is the truth revealed "He is possessed by the devil!" Why? Because "He doesn't smell at all".

The resulting exchange between the two is a delight. When Father Terrier demands that she explain exactly what a baby should smell like the best she could initially come up with is "He smells good". When pressed further she delivers an evocative reply;

"Their feet for instance, they smell like a smooth warm stone - or no, more like curds ... Or like butter, like fresh butter, that's is exactly. They smell like fresh butter. And their bodies smell like ... like a pancake that's been soaked in milk. And their heads, up on top, at the back of the head, where the hair makes a cowlick" ... "there, right there, is where they smell best of all. It smells like caramel, it smells so sweet, so wonderful, Father, you have no idea!"

And indeed he doesn't, what Catholic priest would? Even we fathers of children typically only have a comparatively dull awareness. But ask most mothers and see what you get.

Cont...

Cont...

For me this is classic Houyhnhnm/Yahoo fare. Unless something can be empirically described for Father Terrier it doesn't exist and Ms Bessie is forced to enter that territory in order for him to understand, whereas it would be an undescribed but completely understood universal truth among her profession, and shall I say most mothers.

He is prodded into her world by her smell, the thought of which lingers so much that after several pages of dry theological musings from him we get the following;

"For a monment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child. He had not become a monk, but rather a normal citizen, an upstanding craftsman perhaps, had taken a wife, a warm wife fragrant with milk and wool, and had produced a son with her and he was here rocking him here on his own knees."

The heady aroma of Ms Bessie had seeped around the intellectual and theological constructions and revealed the life denying nature of the priesthood.

But in many ways the intelligentsia hold the keys to the written word. They might wax lyrically about the 'nectar of the Gods', writing long column inches about the pleasures of the aroma and taste of particular varieties, yet I would wager, nary a drop can hold a candle to the anticipation and taste of an ice cold beer placed in front of a man who has spent a long, hard, hot and dusty day on the tools, or shearing sheep, or ... Damn those commercials work just a little too well. But you get my drift. Or even the pleasures of a weekly McDonalds meal for a struggling family.

It begs the question, if given the choice, would one wish for the life of a Houynynym over a Yahoo? That of Father Terrier over Ms Bessie?

Dear csteele,

What did the young Lexi think of the original Little Red Riding Hood
tale? From memory she was probably relieved when the wolf
got it. As for the Roald Dahl version - that she would have
found funny more than "gothic." Tragedy is fairly easy to
define, and we will all respond in much the same way for
example to King Lear's plight, but humour is much harder to
pin down and far more subjective (like my Billy Crystal joke),
so that what appears initially funny to one may seem silly
or objectionable or totally unfunny to another.

Little wonder then that we are sometimes perplexed or dowright
irriated by children's responses to humour when individual
differences are aggravated by factors like age, or emotional
or intellectual development. The more we examine humour, in fact,
the more it turns out to be a slippery, elusive,
dark-sided and, at close quarters,
not even very attractive or funny. And yet we make a
great mistake if we underestimate it, for though we may be
exalted by our experience of tragedy, we survive and develop as
individuals because of our experience of humour.

Dear Lexi,

Nicely put.

The perplexity can work the other way. My daughter worked so hard to understand humour when she was younger. It was like the code of adults that needed cracking. My sister relates an occasion when my daughter burst into tears at her reaction to a joke her niece had told her.

My nephew had us all in stitches at a family gathering a couple of Christmas' ago with a series of jokes that didn't make any sense since they were a jumble of whatever came into his head. Yet he had the delivery down pat, raising his voice at the punch line etc.

I'm afraid my family's sense of humour is baffling to outsiders and even partners of many years standing are regularly bewildered. What hope do our children have. One of our favourite games is a fast paced variety of word association that requires the acceptance of total changes in direction. All answers are to be given within three seconds and inventiveness is highly regarded. To top it off repetition of any word offered through the entire session is forbidden.

This thus afflicted mind found more to tickle my fancy in the name Billy Crystal than the rest of your excellent joke. This puts me in the UOG bracket I know but the thought of the swagman with a set of crystal glasses or the Queen drinking tea from a billy, or even a straight out crystal billy my nudged my funny bone. Total absurdity I know.

I do think tragedy and humour are cut from the same cloth and I don't think it is an accident Jewish people produce some of the most masterful comedians going. Billy Crystal is one of them.

Dear csteele,

I'm impressed - and your family sounds awesome.

I also thought that laughter is a reflex. Tickle children under
their feet and they will start to laugh. Shine a light on their
eyes and they will automatically blink. The difference between
the two responses is that laughter, as Koestler points out in
"The Act of Creation, is a "luxury reflex," one that appears to
have no fuction except to get rid of
"excitations which have become redundant,
which can not be consummated in any purposeful manner."
That is why people will occasionally break into totally
inappropriate laughter during a film or play -
it is a way of releasing and dispersing tension.
Similarly, if we read alound,
"In the dark, dark forest there was a dark, dark house ..."
tension builds up and up until we reach the climax ... "and in
that dark, dark box there was a ...GHOST," and pent-up
apprehension and shock escape in laughter.

We're invariably surprised into laughter, surprised because we
have been logically led to expect one conclusion and receive
instead another, that belongs to a different train of logic.

I'm so pleased that you explained about Billy Crystal. And of
course I totally agree with you about him and Jewish comedians
in general. Who was it who said, "Laugh and the world laughs
with you, cry and they pay to watch." ;-)

Dear Lexi,

The word association game is simple and a lot of fun. Usually played as last man standing. It can be hilarious.

It is surprising how much kids get into it. For adults a shot glass filled with a suitable alcoholic fluid in the middle of the table can spice things up nicely.

Remember it is all done on the phonetics.

A typical 60 seconds might go something like this.

Fish, chip, computer, key, dock, lamb, escape, great, carrot, vomit, projectile, cannon, bible, (now my family might put in 'merry-go-round' here as it is something you would be giddy-on and most would pick up on it, but not if kids or the uninitiated were playing), genesis, Cadbury, cow, pat, Rick, hay etc etc.

Words must only relate to the one that immediately preceded it so chocolate after cow would be inadmissible and result in disqualification. Rounds longer than about 5 minutes go to 2 second intervals. The time keeper moves his hand up and down each second extending a finger each time. Disputes are settled by the majority.

If we are all on the ball it can get a lot more complex than the example above since the best way to win is to throw the next person off by an inspired tangent.

Puns are given reverence well past their due. Did you remember the name of the original writer of "The Killer Joke" I linked to earlier in the thread? It was Mr Ernest Scribbler. Classic.

They'd have found my post on the Hilter salute a bit more amusing than others did, which should reveal how strange we are, but then again we don't have as much time for comedy that belittles, even if the joke teller is the object of the ridicule.

That is probably our only saving grace.

Dear csteele,

Word association games are excellent.

There was a time when teachers and researchers perceived
at reading and writing as two quite separate processes.
Reading was seen as "receptive," a passive taking in of
another's ideas, while writing was seen as "productive,"
inviting an active, creative and individually original
construction of ideas.

It's now well accepted that reading is a very active process,
one in which the reader is consistently engaged in making
meaning by bringing to the text his or her own wealth of
linguistic, and real world knowledge.

I may be digressing a bit here - but recent studies have
focused upon the similarities between the processes of
reading and writing, and it's generally agreed that the
two are complimentary aspects of one composing process.
The implications of this for classroom practice are very
exciting: the more children are helped to become aware of
the author's craft in writing, the more skilled and sensitive
children become as readers, the more adept they are likely
to become in putting their own thoughts to paper.

Word games play a vital part in this process. They encourage
the pool of ideas, vocabulary, language structures - and this
will play an inportant part upon which to draw in their
writing. Its all part of their education. In essence, growth
in language is an index of personal growth. From a child's
earliest acquaintance with nursery rhymes, poetry, folk
and fairy tales and picture books the senses of sight, sound
touch, taste and smell are aroused and stimulated:

The Queen of Hearts
She made some tarts
All on a summer's day
The Knave of Hearts
He stole those tarts
And took them clean away

The earliest literature was verbal, and was transmitted orally
through story.

"It seemed to Terrier as if the child saw him with its nostrils, as if it were staring intently at him, scrutinizing him, more piercingly than eyes could ever do, as if it were using its nose to devour something whole, something that came from him, from Terrier, and that he could not hold that something back or hide it" ... "all at once he felt as if he stank, of sweat and vinegar, of choucroute and unwashed clothes. He felt naked and ugly, as if someone were gaping at him while revealing nothing of himself" ... "his most tender emotions, his filthiest thoughts lay exposed".

The late departed Christopher Hitchens in prosecuting his case against religion would often refer to heaven as a ’celestial North Korea’ where every movement, every utterance indeed every thought was known. He thought that would be hell. Well that hell lay before  Father Terrier.

I am obviously putting forward my own thesis about what Suskind was trying to achieve with Perfume. I would love someone to challenge it if they were inclined to do so since I feel I'm getting a little over-indulgent especially since we are only at chapter 3. I’ll happily continue to dissect the entire book because I'm sure to learn more but I feel a tad sheepish.

Dear Lexi,

I agreed with all of your post until "From a child's earliest acquaintance with nursery rhymes, poetry, folk and fairy tales and picture books the senses of sight, sound touch, taste and smell are aroused and stimulated". Is it an over-reach to think that words can stimulate the senses? Perhaps they can help recall in a muted fashion what we may have smelt, or seen, or heard. Rather than the senses isn't it the imagination that is being stimulated?

I like the notion of reading being active, I'm not sure that film would afford the same level of engagement.

Dear csteele,

Perhaps I didn't express myself well. An element essential for
personal growth - can be direct, indirect, or imaginative.
Literature provides a potent source of vicarious experience
and so fires the imagination with sensory and emotive images
to provoke imagined experience. Thus I gave the example -
from a child's earliest acquaintance with nursery rhymes ...
et cetera.

"Charlotte's Web," is redolent of manure and the farmyard,
and follows the sensuous cycle of the seasons. "The Wind
in the Willows," exudes sap and woodland textures, and
the "Book of Wirrun" soars upwards with tumbling wind
waves, whilst below the slopes are dusted with purple, and
the forest rises "gold-edged against the setting sun."

Latent emotion is aroused in the old rhymes, like the
troubling of the waters - "Curly locks, Curly locks, Wilt
thou be mine," and undoubtedly the immediate appeal of
fairy tales is in the poetry of their contained fear and wonder.
In "Treasure Island," the bony clutch of Blind Pew
is an experience to send shudders down the spine.
Often emotional response comes
after a sensory reaction, which is the great strength of
Roald Dahl's writing, as evidenced in his personal story -
"Boy," as well as in his riotously, wickedly and warmly funny
extravagances - "The BFG," and "The Witches."

And all the while the reader's language is being fed and
enriched - not just with the inventive vocabulary of
Dahl's "snozzcumbers," but consider the delight of Pender's
Barnaby in "Barnaby and the Horses," - "What a strong,
snorting, tossing sort of word it was, What a belonging
sort of word."

But enough said.

Ive enjoyed our discussion on this thread - and I look forward
to more discussion on other threads.

Dear Lexi,

I also appear not to have expressed myself well.

I'm not sure the written word can stimulate the senses without our experiences of those senses in action in the real world.

For those who hadn't ever smelt or tasted a tart no amount of writing is going to allow the rhyme you quoted to stimulate the senses in any meaningful manner (remember the task we were given in school of trying to describe the colour red to a blind man).

For those who have, their sensory memories will assist in fleshing out the story, adding much to its meaning. It is the evoking of these memories that help make the story real for the reader or listener.

It can happen, as it did to me, decades later. I spent last weekend down in the Otway ranges in southern Victoria. Deep within them lies a quite magical place, a dense grove of 100 ft high Californian Redwood trees planted in the 1930s.

To enter into them is to leave the noise and the bustle of the world behind. All sounds are muted even the river that runs past seems hushed. The soft light, the bark, the ground cover and the density of the trees serve to cocoon you. Lets leave aside for a moment the fact that they are an aggressive monoculture as simply nothing can grow beneath them.

I have been there numerous times in the past but on this occasion I was with my 9 year old nephew and it didn't take long until we were armed with pretend guns (sticks) and engaged in a stalking game through the forest. It quickly evoked for me the stories of Robin Hood in the Sherwood Forest which at the time of reading didn't seem to ring quite true. As a kid growing up in Australia and South East Asia I had always contended with dry crackling leaves, bark and twigs underfoot, with bull ants if lying in wait.

In this place a person could be walking just meters away and not be heard,

Cont...

Cont...

the soft cover on the ground meant you could lie in absolute comfort and await the unwary, the tree density meant you could easily stay out of others line of sight, and one could easily spring and grab somebody without them being forewarned.

This was the first time in my life I really GOT the whole Sherwood forest thing.

Last year I was given a book about the experiences of a Vietnamese lad in the war assigned to a tree-cutting platoon. The book described a type of single species forest where people enter and never come out. It is so disorientating that they are quickly lost and end up starving to death.

I asked my friend if such forests really exist in Vietnam? His eyes widened and he said “Of course!' and that even today one must be very careful around them. Though the writing was quite powerful his experiences meant the book was orders of magnitude more evocative for him.

So why is Perfume so evocative for us? Look at the quote Poirot provided in the first post;

“the streets stank of manure, the courtyards of urine, the stairwells stank of mouldering wood and rat droppings, the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlours stank of stale dust, the bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp featherbeds, and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber-pots. the stench of sulphur rose from the chimneys, the stench of caustic lyes from the tanneries and from the slaughterhouses came the stench of congealed blood. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes, from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth”

Except for the stench of caustic lyes and the congealed blood all the other smells most of us would have experienced, some quite powerfully in our lifetimes. These are not descriptions of Arabian deserts or the Artic wilderness, Suskind's genius perhaps lies more in the choice of subject matter than his writing skills but I am pressed to find a more sensory stimulating novel.

“And all the while the reader's language is being fed and enriched”. Indeed.