"And the more of a fraud you felt like, the harder you tried to convey an impressive or likable image of yourself so that other people wouldn’t find out what a hollow, fraudulent person you really were. Logically, you would think that the moment a supposedly intelligent nineteen-year-old became aware of this paradox, he’d stop being a fraud and just settle for being himself (whatever that was) because he’d figured out that being a fraud was a vicious infinite regress that ultimately resulted in being frightened, lonely, alienated, etc....."
It was funny yesterday, right after blogging about the impostor syndrome, to run across that passage, just by chance, as I was out walking, listening to the audio version of "Good Old Neon" by David Foster Wallace. (You can find the story in the collection "Oblivion.")
And it was also only by chance and because I was out walking that I happened into the subject of the impostor syndrome. I was cutting through a building on my path home and walked by an event called "Impostor Syndrome: What it is and How You Can Thrive in Spite of it/How to Feel as Bright and Capable as Everyone 'Thinks' You Are."
After listening to David Foster Wallace, I'm reading that event title in a ridiculously weary, sarcastic tone.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
25 comments:
I'm surprised to learn that fraudulence is a word.
I'm surprised you're surprised.
Is fraudulence, imposter syndrome, metoo etc., related any way with what Ayn Rand called secondhander
Trump on 'sickos' - "lock them up, lock them up".
Will be interesting to see where this new emphasis on the incarceration of the mentally ill leads.
Once more time into the "am I a real person or a fake person " fear set. The fear is of rejection.The cure is knowing self acceptance by a higher authority than other men.
Elephants?
Yes; but now stand by for the usual ad hominem attacks on Rand that will have nothing to do with the topic at hand.
Yes; but now stand by for the usual ad hominem attacks on Rand that will have nothing to do with the topic at hand.
I knew it was David Foster Wallace. It's both his language and his curse.
Reading ARM's contribution, I wonder if there's an opposite curse. Not the less time and effort you put into trying to appear impressive or attractive to other people, the more impressive or attractive you felt inside -- but the more time and effort you put into trying to make other people appear unattractive, the less attractive you feel inside.
ARM, up your game.
Death is real. From the viewpoint of the corpse, life the illusion. We perform our life, as actors, taking cues from those around us. DNA has its way with us, and is on its way to the next actor. Meanwhile, some kind of awareness used by the material world but not of it, continues.
”Will be interesting to see where this new emphasis on the incarceration of the mentally ill leads.”
Worried?
For you? Not especially.
The “fraudulence paradox” was probably developed as a concept by someone who tried but failed to look impressive.
Fen’s law is way more fun.
Interesting topic -- worth a deeper dive -- but a total threadjack, Mr. Beloved.
If you want to convince, or just sow doubt, you first establish trust.
Here's the script:
The basic idea is this.
It's called a confidence game. Why?
Because you give me your confidence?
No. Because I give you mine.
On the evidence of his comments on each and every Althouse blog, the Trump Channel is fully operational, and is broadcasting 24/7 to ARM's head. Sad!
The flatulence paradox was that the more time and effort you put into trying to appear impressive or attractive to other people, the more impressive and unattractive the sound.
Very Holden Caulfieldish. Good Old Neon....Good old Ackley.
Seriously though, what is it about that author that requires everyone refer to him by all three of his names every time they refer to him at all?
Look at the original post: twice he's David Foster Wallace, notwithstanding there's no other author, much less any other Wallace (or even David Foster!) referred to in the entire post.
Maybe it's just one of those weird fetishes, like "Jimmy Page" or something but made more cloying by the bouncy pretense of the name's syllabic rhythm.
I'd probably feel fraudulent if I actually convinced a lot of people that I was impressive or attractive. There's a none dare call it treason thing about this.. If you can actually convince a fair number of people that you're impressive or attractive, then to some extent you are impressive or attractive. Movie stars probably aren't particularly brave or kind or whatever fine quality we wish to read into them, but they're definitely impressive and attractive to look at. Writers may fuck up their lives in every other dimension, but on the printed page their soul is impressive and attractive.
This Does capture Hillary's predicament accurately
"Hypochondriac self-centered self-hater; and I have often observed, that your self-hater generally manages to retain his self-esteem in relation to others by means of a general denigration: it is as though he saw clearly & no doubt rightly that he was a worthless scrub but that nevertheless all the rest (or all those in his immediate view) were even more worthless, even more scrublike. They are I am told the bane of confessors in the old establishment—interminably wordy—the last & lowest of sinners, apart from any (illegible word) of humanity."
--chapter notes by Patrick O'Brian on his The Thirteen-Gun Salute
https://hmssurprise.org/bells-tower
On September 12, 2008, Wallace wrote a two-page suicide note, arranged part of the manuscript for The Pale King and hanged himself from a rafter of his house.[64] He was 46.
Maybe DFW was sick of being an imposter. He said a lot of really sensible stuff, but II guess he didn’t ‘grok’ it.
At least they named that big airport in Texas after him.
the more time and effort you put into trying to appear impressive or attractive to other people, the less impressive or attractive you felt inside
Heh, no.
The women who replace Wallace's logorrhea with their own money by spending $62 billion (84 billion) each year to appear impressive or attractive to other people say otherwise.
The Neil Gaiman - Neil Armstrong anecdote tells it all
Post a Comment