Here's part of a paragraph I wrote on nostalgia a few years back: For many of the writers of this generation,1 the desire to revisit the pre-passé era becomes such a strong one that it manifests itself literarily. The same could likely be said for most generations. The passé often goes hand-in-hand with adulthood, so the tendency is to concentrate on the era before adulthood. This, in turn, leads to a nostalgic reexamining of the past. How far back this examination may go is dependent upon the person, naturally, but a truly embraceable nostalgia presupposes a fully fleshed consciousness, which disallows much of early childhood. An examination of one's childhood would not be nostalgic undertaking so much as it would be an exhumation of what one remembers what passed for wonderment. The child’s inchoate brain (typically) does not disabuse the child of magical notions, and it is not tasked to call upon logic or deal with libido. This narrows the opening of the nostalgia window to little more than a sliver of a life. What is left is the time that begins with the preteen age and ends just before the responsibilities and banality of adulthood take hold. This explains, perhaps, the adult American male's nostalgic romanticization of the first few years behind the wheel (and pretty much the entirety of George Lucas's American Graffiti), or the adult American female's similar attitude toward the pajama party. I cut out the stuff that dealt with the text and author about which I was writing. I also stopped short of letting you see the brief mention of Fredric Jameson's "Nostalgia Mode" essay.
Staving off adulthood by going into college can stay the execution of the pre-passé somewhat. This can grant a person a little extra time with the kind of tools necessary for the cultivating of nostalgic potential, but only if that person hasn't already canceled out the nostalgic potential of such a time by choosing to perceive it as unpleasant. I say it "can stay" the execution, and not it "stays," because college is not the same duty-free gambol through parents', alums', and governments' funds as it is for many of those who are able to reflect on it fondly.
* * *
Am I saying that a perceived nostalgia for childhood is invalidated by the child's limited faculties? Well, I was in the paper. I wouldn't go so far, now. I wouldn't have gone so far, then, if I had been engaged in a live conversation about nostalgia. I only go so far in papers because it is expected of me to go so far in papers.
I don't know jack shit about what goes on in children's brains. My memories of childhood are memories of relating to reality through products specifically designed to expand my perception of what was within the realm of possibility so that I would react with disbelief when told I couldn't have whatever I wanted to have--in the hopes that my disbelief would guilt my parents into getting me as much of what I wanted to have as they could in order to 1.) keep from fracturing my delicate psychosis, and 2.) uphold the appearance of financial security. Isn't that how toys are sold?
So, anyway, the best I can do when it comes to pretending I know jack shit about what goes on in children's brains is to assume that their brains are as fucked up as I remember my brain being.
____________ 1 In the paper, I am speaking of westerners born in the late sixties.
For many of the writers of this generation,1 the desire to revisit the pre-passé era becomes such a strong one that it manifests itself literarily. The same could likely be said for most generations. The passé often goes hand-in-hand with adulthood, so the tendency is to concentrate on the era before adulthood. This, in turn, leads to a nostalgic reexamining of the past. How far back this examination may go is dependent upon the person, naturally, but a truly embraceable nostalgia presupposes a fully fleshed consciousness, which disallows much of early childhood. An examination of one's childhood would not be nostalgic undertaking so much as it would be an exhumation of what one remembers what passed for wonderment. The child’s inchoate brain (typically) does not disabuse the child of magical notions, and it is not tasked to call upon logic or deal with libido. This narrows the opening of the nostalgia window to little more than a sliver of a life. What is left is the time that begins with the preteen age and ends just before the responsibilities and banality of adulthood take hold. This explains, perhaps, the adult American male's nostalgic romanticization of the first few years behind the wheel (and pretty much the entirety of George Lucas's American Graffiti), or the adult American female's similar attitude toward the pajama party.
I cut out the stuff that dealt with the text and author about which I was writing. I also stopped short of letting you see the brief mention of Fredric Jameson's "Nostalgia Mode" essay.
Staving off adulthood by going into college can stay the execution of the pre-passé somewhat. This can grant a person a little extra time with the kind of tools necessary for the cultivating of nostalgic potential, but only if that person hasn't already canceled out the nostalgic potential of such a time by choosing to perceive it as unpleasant. I say it "can stay" the execution, and not it "stays," because college is not the same duty-free gambol through parents', alums', and governments' funds as it is for many of those who are able to reflect on it fondly.
* * *
Am I saying that a perceived nostalgia for childhood is invalidated by the child's limited faculties? Well, I was in the paper. I wouldn't go so far, now. I wouldn't have gone so far, then, if I had been engaged in a live conversation about nostalgia. I only go so far in papers because it is expected of me to go so far in papers.
I don't know jack shit about what goes on in children's brains. My memories of childhood are memories of relating to reality through products specifically designed to expand my perception of what was within the realm of possibility so that I would react with disbelief when told I couldn't have whatever I wanted to have--in the hopes that my disbelief would guilt my parents into getting me as much of what I wanted to have as they could in order to 1.) keep from fracturing my delicate psychosis, and 2.) uphold the appearance of financial security. Isn't that how toys are sold?
So, anyway, the best I can do when it comes to pretending I know jack shit about what goes on in children's brains is to assume that their brains are as fucked up as I remember my brain being.
____________
1 In the paper, I am speaking of westerners born in the late sixties.
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