As usual, you've hit directly into my thoughts that I didn't have the words for. I look forward to another year of your insights!
The clutter-stress relationship reminds me of an argument against open concept kitchens. Another blogger proposed that open floor plans were only aesthetically pleasing in showroom level of cleanliness and order. Closed off kitchens are better for the overall mood of a house because kitchens are never totally clean. Dishes, countertop appliances, and foodstuffs accumulate with mind-boggling persistence and create stress when they're constantly visible. So to reduce stress against inevitable kitchen messes, just keep the kitchen out of view.
I used to scoff at this because I loved my luxurious-feeling open kitchen with an island, even when it got cluttered, but I think there's merit to this. I can count on my hand the number of times my kitchen was tidy enough to feel admirable and boast-able, and one of them was after preparation to move out. The lies we tell ourselves about disorder and uncleanliness seem related to the way we weigh aspiration and potential as substitutable for actual reality.
Thank you! You make a wonderful point about open kitchens – you can ignore a messy desk, but the need to make a space presentable to guests forces us to recognise that we are not as tidy as we imagine ourselves to be. If we were being cynical, we could say this is what makes the open kitchen an effective status symbol. It shows visitors that you have time, or most likely a cleaner, to keep it looking nice.
Wessie, nicely done. And I know this is the dark part of the year in a dark land. But a word of caution, if I may. The default stance of entire rafts of intellectuals is a sort of downbeat pessimism, even, as you say, melancholy:
"They have also loaded me with a lot of melancholy that I didn’t bargain for; melancholy at the hollowing-out of cultures by technology, at the casual annihilation of the natural world, at the degradation of artefacts themselves through a loss of integrity and care."
I certainly feel that, and I'm sure it creeps into my writing from time to time. But, speaking as a reader, this kind of melancholy is so common that it's usually boring. It's like french fries, chips I guess you say. Sometimes you want a steak frites, I get that, but . . .
SO, as you navigate this inflection point, I hope you keep what's distinctive, penetrating, and even dynamic about your voice. Seek out what's particular, special, worth attention. That's what good critics, like you, do. Mere gloom is widely available in the UK (even if purveyed by Afrikaners) and elsewhere. Keep up the good work and Happy New Year!
David, I'm so grateful for this advice, which I'll certainly bear in mind. You are of course correct that pessimism is too easy, and a slippery slope to generic (though maybe popular) commentary. I'll do my best to skirt the whirlpool.
"Seek out what's particular, special, worth attention." I'll remember this too.
Have you read Adrian Forty's Objects of Desire? Interesting chapter in it about the evolution of desks as site of manager-drone conflict in white collar workplaces.
As usual, you've hit directly into my thoughts that I didn't have the words for. I look forward to another year of your insights!
The clutter-stress relationship reminds me of an argument against open concept kitchens. Another blogger proposed that open floor plans were only aesthetically pleasing in showroom level of cleanliness and order. Closed off kitchens are better for the overall mood of a house because kitchens are never totally clean. Dishes, countertop appliances, and foodstuffs accumulate with mind-boggling persistence and create stress when they're constantly visible. So to reduce stress against inevitable kitchen messes, just keep the kitchen out of view.
I used to scoff at this because I loved my luxurious-feeling open kitchen with an island, even when it got cluttered, but I think there's merit to this. I can count on my hand the number of times my kitchen was tidy enough to feel admirable and boast-able, and one of them was after preparation to move out. The lies we tell ourselves about disorder and uncleanliness seem related to the way we weigh aspiration and potential as substitutable for actual reality.
Thank you! You make a wonderful point about open kitchens – you can ignore a messy desk, but the need to make a space presentable to guests forces us to recognise that we are not as tidy as we imagine ourselves to be. If we were being cynical, we could say this is what makes the open kitchen an effective status symbol. It shows visitors that you have time, or most likely a cleaner, to keep it looking nice.
Wessie, nicely done. And I know this is the dark part of the year in a dark land. But a word of caution, if I may. The default stance of entire rafts of intellectuals is a sort of downbeat pessimism, even, as you say, melancholy:
"They have also loaded me with a lot of melancholy that I didn’t bargain for; melancholy at the hollowing-out of cultures by technology, at the casual annihilation of the natural world, at the degradation of artefacts themselves through a loss of integrity and care."
I certainly feel that, and I'm sure it creeps into my writing from time to time. But, speaking as a reader, this kind of melancholy is so common that it's usually boring. It's like french fries, chips I guess you say. Sometimes you want a steak frites, I get that, but . . .
SO, as you navigate this inflection point, I hope you keep what's distinctive, penetrating, and even dynamic about your voice. Seek out what's particular, special, worth attention. That's what good critics, like you, do. Mere gloom is widely available in the UK (even if purveyed by Afrikaners) and elsewhere. Keep up the good work and Happy New Year!
David, I'm so grateful for this advice, which I'll certainly bear in mind. You are of course correct that pessimism is too easy, and a slippery slope to generic (though maybe popular) commentary. I'll do my best to skirt the whirlpool.
"Seek out what's particular, special, worth attention." I'll remember this too.
Have you read Adrian Forty's Objects of Desire? Interesting chapter in it about the evolution of desks as site of manager-drone conflict in white collar workplaces.
Yes it's a brilliant book. In fact I used that section for an earlier post about chairs: https://www.thepathosofthings.com/p/take-a-seat
Aha! Splendid. It would have greatly surprised me if you hadn't, to be honest.