The Narrative of Self

I’ve decided to take a break from blogging for a while. As I entered the second year of my Master’s program taking time to think seemed appropriate. Questions begged themselves: Where should I go from here?  What’s next?

 I won’t claim being any closer to definitively allaying such molestations as I write this. What I will do is attempt to give some modicum of organization to the last few months. Its story begins with a class that everyone seemed to hate.

The professors were younger. At least for most in their position. They were also rigid; they insisted we complete assignments for the required theoretical and methodological seminar on a topic pertaining to their field of study: Africa and Latin America.

 Like most of my classmates I was not happy. Fortunately, I was granted reprieve to develop the assignment in one of my current research areas. But, I also had a back-up plan. I knew that many 19^th century works of Polish authors wrote variations on gawęda szlachecka. This literary form reflects narrative patriotic/religious ideals of moral-courageousness as exemplified by Polish gentry amid invasion. Sometimes, these novels focus on sanctimonious civilization of the Subaltern by Polish certitude  (for a famous English language example, The Heart of Darkness somewhat qualifies). Poland was partitioned at the time. The colonial ‘export’ of the gawęda’s setting served as a metaphor of Polish cultural actualization amid their own colonizers’ attempts at forcible integration.

 But, this gawęda didn't go with the end of empire. It adapted with the imposition of communism. I found one Polish writer who’d been to Africa and Latin America: Ryszard Kapuściński. I began reading one of his books, ‘Christ with a Rifle on His Shoulder’, on the way to my program’s winter school. It detailed revolutionary movements of the displaced on each of the southern continents.  Frankly, I found the work mostly one sided and do not agree with many of its views.

Still, it made for fascinating reading.  This author traveled the world. He detailed conceptualizations of community in Palestinian camps.   He also deconstructed accounts of political coups. I sat open-mouthed as I read of an armed conflict between student groups on university grounds in Bolivia. Other than permanent closure of the university, the government had no way to stop student conflict or protest. Even the rector was powerless. This was a car cry from the student protests of professorial power to which I was accustomed. As Kapuściński writes: there, "the students decide about everything”. Conflict still occurs.     

Back at winter school, a student from La Paz told me that extremist politics were still visible at that university. Though to a less violent extent.  At the same time, she was critical of her country’s indigenous president. As leader who controlled the country, she felt he'd failed to accomplish positive reforms.

The indignation didn’t end with South American politics. A few students of our own program attempted their own rebellion later that night. They objected to opaque standards of awarding merit scholarships on the program. That distribution was far from achievement’s entitlement.  This ‘movement’ was met by the recipients’ with decisively weak opposition. They won; there’s no stigma attached to success. No matter your views regarding it's legitimacy. Yet, the act of protesting authority and resulting resistance to it grants a sense that one is in the right; in this respect one's side is unimportant.     

One of my friends in Vienna finally got here a month ago. She’s on my program. But, Austria wouldn't grant her the visa until recently. Shortly after her arrival she told me what she had learned from the experience: “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent”. However, self-conviction  requires confidence. An almost religious commitment to forging one's own auto-narrative exceptionalism. Despite damaging actions of others. 

In that, maybe there is actualization in claiming aid for—or power over—those you perceive to need it.   There’s a comfort in finding righteousness amid your own uncertainty. Especially when fear of the future failure remains in your own small successes. And when there's resentment in knowing some have achieved more with less effort.

I attended high mass in Vienna’s cathedral five years ago. Last Sunday I returned. On both arrivals I felt as if my future was less than certain, or bright. Upon leaving, I felt I'd found some unknown certainty  to gain. That gave me hope. It also scared me.  

Superiority and inferiority are relative. So are opposing political beliefs. So are right and wrong for that matter. When one of them ascends into in popular favor, how can you be sure which side you’re on? 

Could it be that’s how Gawęda Szlachecka still lives? By fulfilling our fear of uncertainty. By giving us the power to adapt to an ideology of the moment through refusing to be made subjectively inferior; often by placing others in that category. By envisioning a sure way forward free from validation. One which is one's own.

Could it be? And, if so, which way is it? 

I end this post with the above questions.