Six excerpts from six books: part 1
from On Love, by Alain de Botton:
8. Medical history tells us of the case of a man living under the peculiar delusion that he was a fried egg. Quite how or when this idea had entered his head, no one knew, but he now refused to sit down anywhere for fear that he would "break himself" and "spill the yolk." His doctors tried sedatives and other drugs to appease his fears, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, one of them made the effort to enter the mind of the deluded patient and suggested he should carry a piece of toast with him at all times, which he could place on any chair he wished to sit on, and hence protect himself from spillage. From then on, the deluded man was never seen without a piece of toast handy and was able to continue a more or less normal existance.
9. What is the point of this story? It merely shows that though one may be living under a delusion [love, the belief that one is an egg], if one finds a complementary part for it [another lover like Chloe under a similar delusion, a piece of toast] then all may be well. Delusions are not harmful in themselves, they only hurt when one is alone in believing in them, when one cannot create an environment in which they can be sustained. So long as both Chloe and I could maintain a belief in the infinitely precarious soap bubble of love, what did it matter whether or not the bus was really red?
Well, this sounds at first like excellent relationship advice. But then, you wake up one morning, you're feeling more than a wee bit peckish, you realize you're missing the red bus that's just come up the lane, you grab something quick to eat without thinking... I'm just saying, even a relationship with toast, as delightful as that must be, is bound to have pitfalls.
ReplyDeleteOn the other hand, a nice plate, with an attractive design on it, gmmm...
I think the the delusion must be more mutual than in anonymous' scenario-- I am not only toast, but I like being toast, and you think of me as toast, and you are an egg, and you like being an egg, and I think of you as an egg, but we also thoroughly believe that we the perfect breakfast sandwich (or, popeye sandwich, if you will) and we like believing that.
ReplyDeleteIt's the delusional belief in the sandwich (along with a belief in each other's sovreignty as part of the sandwhich) that makes for a successful relationship.
Yes, one can remain self-absorbed in one's own delusions, never allow others to enter into it, always look for the next plate, then the next bagel, then the next McGriddle bread (what is that, anyway?).
But then you're just alone, a wandering egg, still operating under the delusion that you are--in fact--an egg, still afraid of spillage.
But maybe you enjoy getting a little-- you know-- scrambled, trying out new bread products and china sets. That's cool. Just don't be afraid. And if you do spill a little bit, well, that's just part of you that'll always be left behind with hunky slice of Canadian bacon (eggs benedict, anyone?), and there's nothing to be afraid of in that.
And maybe that next English muffin (Mmmm!) turns out to be part of a rather tasty, low-fat, satisfying brunch, and you, still an egg, decide that this delusion is one worth setting the table for.