Earlier this week, I hosted a book discussion on The Dharma of the Princess Bride: What the Coolest Fairy Tale of Our Time Can Teach Us About Buddhism and Relationships, by Ethan Nichtern.* It seemed to be a good choice for a book discussion in February, this relationship-fueled month. And, it had the "hook" of being grounded in that "cool fairy tale" that is now celebrating its 30th anniversary. Thirty years! Memorable characters (Fezzik! Miracle Max! Rodents of Unusual Size!) Unforgettable scenes (Cliffs of Insanity! The Fire Swamp! Count Rugen's Torture Chamber!) And of course the bits of dialogue most of us can quote from memory:
"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!"
"You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means."
"It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead."
'As you wish."Here are phrases that we can not only quote from memory, but that have become part of the cultural linguistic inventory of our time.
In the course of our discussion of the book, the characters, and these memorable phrases, we began to wonder WHY some movies/books have had such lasting power. We thought, too, of the "Star Wars" juggernaut, now forty years old and counting. I mused that part of the reason might be that a good portion of the population that has grown up with Princess Bride and Star Wars are also the same folks who've grown up outside of any religious tradition. In other words, the stories that helped form many prior generations were NOT part of the last couple. And, without those "old" stories, new ones necessarily had to be found to help make meaning out of life. I'm not saying this is bad, it's just . . . is. That said, I've been thinking about those things we have memorized and those things we "know by heart". It began last Sunday (prior to the book discussion) when a grandfather and his granddaughters slipped into the pew behind me at church. Given the conversation I overheard, it was clear that the girls were not accustomed to being at this church with grand-dad. As the service progressed, we reached a point at which the congregation joined together in reciting a relatively long confession of faith. Grand-dad handed the bulletin to one of the girls and said, "Here, you can have this. I know it by heart." Whether he was just using that phrase instead of "I have it memorized" or not, I don't know. But I'd like to think it was more than just a series of memorized sentences; I'd like to think it was something he knew by heart.
What we know "by heart" not only forms us, but sustains us. It is no surprise that those suffering from Alzheimers Disease (or other forms of dementia) can join in singing old hymns, even when they can't string together words for a complete sentence. Hospice workers know that, when they visit patients, the Lord's Prayer or the Shema come fairly easily to folks who often seem "out of it." These "series of sentences" were learned over years, in particular contexts, and became deep-seated . . . "heart-known". I can't say for certain, but I would hope that the words from the heart at that time provide some internal comfort, a re-connection with a more "normal" life. So I wonder . . . what do we know by heart? "As you wish" may win a trivia contest, but does it sustain us?
Namasté,
"You keep using that word, I do not think it means what you think it means."
"It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead."
'As you wish."Here are phrases that we can not only quote from memory, but that have become part of the cultural linguistic inventory of our time.
In the course of our discussion of the book, the characters, and these memorable phrases, we began to wonder WHY some movies/books have had such lasting power. We thought, too, of the "Star Wars" juggernaut, now forty years old and counting. I mused that part of the reason might be that a good portion of the population that has grown up with Princess Bride and Star Wars are also the same folks who've grown up outside of any religious tradition. In other words, the stories that helped form many prior generations were NOT part of the last couple. And, without those "old" stories, new ones necessarily had to be found to help make meaning out of life. I'm not saying this is bad, it's just . . . is. That said, I've been thinking about those things we have memorized and those things we "know by heart". It began last Sunday (prior to the book discussion) when a grandfather and his granddaughters slipped into the pew behind me at church. Given the conversation I overheard, it was clear that the girls were not accustomed to being at this church with grand-dad. As the service progressed, we reached a point at which the congregation joined together in reciting a relatively long confession of faith. Grand-dad handed the bulletin to one of the girls and said, "Here, you can have this. I know it by heart." Whether he was just using that phrase instead of "I have it memorized" or not, I don't know. But I'd like to think it was more than just a series of memorized sentences; I'd like to think it was something he knew by heart.
What we know "by heart" not only forms us, but sustains us. It is no surprise that those suffering from Alzheimers Disease (or other forms of dementia) can join in singing old hymns, even when they can't string together words for a complete sentence. Hospice workers know that, when they visit patients, the Lord's Prayer or the Shema come fairly easily to folks who often seem "out of it." These "series of sentences" were learned over years, in particular contexts, and became deep-seated . . . "heart-known". I can't say for certain, but I would hope that the words from the heart at that time provide some internal comfort, a re-connection with a more "normal" life. So I wonder . . . what do we know by heart? "As you wish" may win a trivia contest, but does it sustain us?
Namasté,
Gary
* North Point Press, 2017.
* North Point Press, 2017.
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