Splash No. 244 - Convention and Neuroses
Convention and Neuroses
In Mills Baker’s latest newsletter, he explores an essay by philosopher Iris Murdoch, featuring the following quote:
convention and neurosis, the two enemies of understanding, one might say the enemies of love; and how difficult it is in the modern world to escape from one without invoking the help of the other.
Just like Mills, I was gobsmacked by this quote, and how it managed to characterize how I’ve lived most of my life — bouncing between states of neuroses and convention, struggling to find anything in between. My default mode for much of my life was that of convention, following the standard scripts of my community about how studying hard and denying my emotions were the steps to moving through life and being successful. This worked until it didn’t, and as I grew into myself, I found myself defined by neuroses of varying forms — attempting to learn about the world and spiraling about its endless problems, obsessing over a clear meaning or direction to my life, and isolating myself when I failed to find any sort of answer.
It’s all easy to see years later, but until now, I had never really considered was how convention and neuroses served as enemies of love and understanding, the fundamental keys to a fulfilling life. Convention was useful since it allowed for a simpler existence, one where the basic questions had answers as long as you didn’t look at it too deeply. Seeking greater understanding almost felt antithetical to blindly following convention, yet ultimately led me into neurotic despair, as I was unable to cope with what the world was when the convention was forgotten. So sometimes I returned to convention, seeking some level of solace in the standard approach to life.
Ultimately, the only real solace for me did not come from ping ponging between these points, but instead the arts at large. Diving into works of literature and film and beyond has always been the great escape in my life but also my greatest tool for expanding my perception of the world, and thus my understanding of it. Great art serves as a prism to the world, refracting our singular view into a rainbow of experiences. A work of literature can make a lost soul sympathetic, a film can plunge us into the joys of childhood, a video game can let us experience the banality of evil. In consuming this work, we’re removed from the conventions of our communities, we’re pulled out of endless introspection, and we’re capable of understanding something outside of it.
We fear what we don’t understand, love is the opposite of fear, so we must seek understanding to reach love. And consuming the arts and creating them feels like a reasonable path forward, one that can be helpful in avoiding the pitfalls of endless navel-gazing or the dissolution of the self in convention. I’m no expert on love and understanding, but I feel like I’ve come a long way; one work of art at a time.
Drops of the Week
EP - Reporpoised Phantasies by Machine Girl - fun and intense breakcore EP that I returned to recently
ARTICLE - "in the nothing of the year" by Helena Fitzgerald - another amazing grief bacon issue
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Still,
Nikhil