Hi all,
The first movie I ever watched convinced that I would not comprehend it was The Matrix. A conversation with a teammate on my fifth grade basketball team planted this seed of doubt. For some reason, after all these years I still remember the conversation during which he told me that The Matrix was 'a great movie, but I didn't get it.'
Though I recall that much, I do not recall if I did get it or not- all I recall is that I did not expect to get it when the movie started. My guess is that I did not. This movie and its two sequels were indeed very complex. (1) (2)
In hindsight, what I see as more important than whether I understood it the first time is the reality that because I did not expect to get it when I started watching the movie, I was doomed to feeling that I did not get it when the movie ended. How else could it go, right? Even if I thought my grasp of the film was full, I would still wonder in the back of my little pre-teen brain if the Oracle's cookies carried some greater significance that I would not fully understand until a follow up viewing.
I see the way I accepted my own likely failure to understand the movie as a parallel to the film's layered explorations of how the mind and body serve to limit each other. The trilogy is in general an examination of destiny and how we change our behavior to fit the final destination we convince ourselves our trajectory is carrying us to (words like 'inevitable' seem to come up a lot in the dialogue).
There are many specific examples that illustrate this idea. The one I've narrowed down to over the years is a particular favorite of mine for it does seem to serve as a good metaphor for many of my own journeys beyond self-imposed obstacles.
This concept is something I refer to as 'The Neo Moment' and it refers to a specific scene during which the protagonist (Neo) applies his powers in a context where such an application is considered impossible by everyone in (and perhaps also those merely watching) the movie. (3)
The key to this moment is a shift in Neo's thinking. Up until scene, Neo believed that he could only apply his power under certain conditions. Part of the reason he believes this is due to everyone else believing it. They call him 'The One' and instill in him the sense of destiny he needs to tap into his unlimited potential. But they also teach him that he is only capable of being 'The One' in a very specific type of environment. Outside of that environment, he is just another dude.
Eventually, he believes this for himself and is able to reach his significant potential within the domain in which he believes that he possesses superhuman ability. However, by unquestioningly accepting the conditions imposed on him by others, Neo restricts the power he harbors outside of this well-defined domain.
I thought about 'The Neo Moment' most recently while reading Haruki Murakami's exploration of conciousness, Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World. This parallel though not quite parallel narrative forced me to consider all the ways people the limit themselves through their untested assumptions about their minds and bodies. More than once, I paused to reflect on a comment by a character or think more about an idea before resuming my reading.
'The Neo Moment' came about two-thirds of the way through. It struck me that I should write some of these thoughts down. I'm clever sometimes, you know? But I almost always forget what I fail to write down.
The only reason I was not already writing things down, I recognized, was because as a rule I do not write notes while reading fiction. I write notes for nonfiction. Fiction, no notes. It is simply something I don't do. So, I don't do it. (4)
There is a clear line of logic to my note-taking rule. What is clearly illogical to me now, though, is how easily I accepted my assumptions as a reflection of what could be learned from fiction and nonfiction. (These types of frank self-examinations define Neo Moments.)
I've written here before about domain-dependence, the concept that people bring out different qualities, behaviors, and/or beliefs with them as the environment changes. Such an approach makes sense at certain times. The downside is the possibility that we prevent the best of ourselves in one context from carrying over to another. Often, we must learn the same thing multiple times simply through our failure to apply a general truth in multiple contexts.
The Neo Moment describes one way to break down the barriers that prevent us from being our best at all times. It also gives us a chance to consistently apply good principles across all aspects of our lives. For me, it meant asking questions in the past such as 'why do I worry about technique for weight lifting but just go 'yee-haw' with my running technique' or 'why am I able to divide my behavior into times I was kind and times I was not'.
Today, it means asking what I think I learn from nonfiction that is different from what I think I learn from fiction. It requires reflection by asking myself if I learn more from nonfiction or fiction. It requires reconsidering the bias I seem to have toward nonfiction when it comes recognizing literature as 'learning material'.
My conclusion is straightforward and somewhat embarrassing. I've clearly learned more from nonfiction than fiction. However, this is almost entirely unrelated to any characteristics of those types of literature. Rather, it comes down to how I've approached reading over the course of these past few years.
For nonfiction, I take notes. For fiction, I do not. It is a simple explanation for the observed result- I learn more from nonfiction than I do from fiction. Cause and effect. Different process leads to different outcomes.
I also observe a similar result concerning blogs, online articles, and podcasts. These types of media are closer in character to nonfiction than fiction. But I've learned less from them than I have from nonfiction books. The reason is the same. Without a proper note-taking setup, my process is different. With a different process, the outcomes will likely differ. And they do.
I suppose, as I think more, that perhaps I should take notes on everything. Why not? There is always something to learn from the world (though you do need to enroll as a full-time student).
But I sense that this is perhaps an unbalanced solution. To ask others to wait while I scribble some nonsense onto a notecard seems rude.
The best balance is probably similar to my approach to nutrition. When I eat alone, I try my best to eat as well as possible. It is basically a vegetarian diet. Beer and wine work their way in, of course, to a limited degree. Sometimes ice cream gets involved. When I eat with others, I don't worry. The nutrition is already taken care of.
So, for now, I'll try to make the most of this Neo Moment without falling out of balance. Luckily, reading is an activity very much defined as something to do alone. So, additional note taking will not challenge my sense of balance in social settings. We'll see what happens. Maybe a year from now, I'll look back and see that I've taken more out of reading than I did in the past five. I'll be sure to let you know.
Thanks as always for reading. Until Friday...
Tim
Footnotes / imagined complaints
1. Happy Birthday To ME!
The day watched The Matrix was my birthday. Or I should say, tried to watch. Things were going fairly well until a phone call came in with the news that my grandmother had been hit by a car. I remember this as bizarre more than anything else. The car in question was barely going above five miles per hour at the time of the collision so it was not exactly a life threatening situation.
On the other hand, my grandmother was in her nineties and did fall over at impact. Such facts merit immediate postponement of all leisure activities. I'm not sure when I finished watching the movie.
2. Another such thing...
This trilogy is a good example of the idea that things continue when they are going well and things end when they are going poorly. Thus, all things must end poorly.
The first two movies of this trilogy were outstanding. The sky was the limit. Then the third movie...
A similar thing happened with the TV series Lost. A great start merited additional seasons. Then, that last season...
I've rambled on around here in the past about how it is easy to identify when things start but more difficult to pinpoint when things end. I do suspect that I would agree less with that statement if I extended the above idea to say 'when something goes badly, it indicates that something is ending.' I'm not quite a philosophy professor yet, though, so I'll keep working on that one.
3. Spoiler alert!
I'm referring to the end of the second movie. Up until this point, Neo believes he is capable of superhuman 'stopping power' only within the context of being plugged into the computer simulation known as 'the matrix'. At the end of the movie, he reaches some kind of unspoken conclusion and tries to use his powers outside of the matrix. Since I'm writing about it now, I think it is fairly obvious that he is at least able to accomplish something.
4. A good rule for system evolution
I cannot pinpoint why I split fiction and nonfiction for note taking purposes. Perhaps it is because I read fiction as a kid and kids never take notes. Bad look on the school bus, you know?
Perhaps it is because I learned to associate note-taking as an academic exercise through schooling and this did not mesh with my understanding of fiction as 'pleasure' reading. It could also involve how teachers encouraged note taking for textbooks and lectures but never for book reading.
The question of why it continued is a little easier to understand. Most things continue on to the next iteration of a system if their existence does not harm survival prospects (this is why I have a tailbone). Things that harm survival prospects of a system can still continue on to the next iteration if the system can be saved when it is put into danger (this is why I have an appendix).
So, if I consider my note-taking method as a 'system', taking no notes for fiction will continue on through an indefinite number of iterations because this does not harm the likelihood that I continue to do it. Until something steps in to do something about it, it will continue as such.
