Our recent “Literature on the Lanai with Wine” has featured Paul Theroux’s collection of essays, “Figures in a Landscape.” Some of the essays are character sketches of people like Graham Greene, Elizabeth Taylor, and Hunter S. Thompson. Others are snippets from his adventures as a traveler—not a tourist—riding the rails or paddling a kayak into myriad places around the world.
A few pieces have raised the matter of fitting in. In one, Theroux writes about his time in the Peace Corps in Malawi in the 1960s. He is frank about his youthful hubris, perhaps even arrogance, in thinking that, because he was doing noble work there (in his mind), he would be able to fit it.
In a second, Theroux writes about Hawaii where he has lived for many years. He understands about his life here, as do we, that he lacks some aspect of “legitimacy” that seems the private reserve of those who, by virtue of blood quantum, regard themselves as Native Hawaiian. This sense of not exactly fitting in does not inhibit living a great life in Hawaii with friends from diverse ethnic and cultural backgrounds, and generally feeling like Hawaii is home.
Yet, he writes, there is that “something” which, because he is not blood Hawaiian, is inaccessible to him in the minds of some Native Hawaiians.
Fitting in is a major task facing children, almost from birth. The irony, of course, is that human development theories and social psychologists argue that the chief challenge in childhood is to individuate, to become a highly functioning responsible adult capable of directly one’s own life, to the extent that anyone does that.
To fit in is to be accepted. To be accepted within the group, even if the group is Goths or a gang, seems to be an innate drive. Our lives seem to be a series of concentric circles encompassing groups: nuclear family, extended family, chronological peers, school chums, social groups, work colleagues, etc. As such we are much like other species in which the outlier, the one eschewing the group or cast out if the group, is the exception one tries not to be.
Theroux’s life has been a series of travels to places where he has been warmly received (most times) and treated with respect (except for times like when five boys with spears menaced him and his kayak). He has been cognizant of his status of the outsider, and he is clearly comfortable with that status. He has chosen to be in places, albeit for short periods of time, where he does not fit in.
Two movies we have seen recently address the theme of fitting in. “Crazy Rich Asians” follows the travails of an “American-born Chinese woman” (as her Singaporean Chinese boyfriend’s mother calls her) as she is courted by the boyfriend. The story turns on another outsider who initially poses a major obstacle for the young woman because she is still not 100% a part of the family into which she has married. Spoiler alert: that outsider ultimately relents. It wouldn’t have been as happy a film had she not.
“The Book Shop” tells the story of a widow who goes to a small village in England intending to open a bookshop, a dream she had shared with her late husband.
The penultimate scene of the movie is the widow leaving the village on a boat, never to return, her departure welcomed by most all of the villagers. This, despite the fact that many of them had frequented her shop, helping her to envision the prospect of making a good living for herself.
Only one adult character and one child see the widow as anything but an outsider who did not fit in with the community. From the boat, the widow sees her bookstore burning.
People of a Certain Age, what has been your experience with fitting in? Or not?
-In both movies, the lead character did not anticipate any difficulties fitting in. The American Chinese woman looked Chinese, spoke Mandarin, knew and respected Chinese cultural norms but was still regarded as an outsider. The widow looked like every other villager, was cordial, solicitous about the well-being of others, and eager to serve her new community. When push came to shove, though, she got shoved.
This tribal or clan instinct to fit in needs to be acknowledged as a fact of life, a part of the ecology in which we human beings live, perhaps even a primal urge. I wonder if we ever outgrow it? To what extent are we forever like the new kid joining the fourth-grade class at school in March just hoping that he can blend in with the other kids quickly?
One of the many advantages of aging is that, on the whole, we care less about impressing others than we used to and are more willing to express what we think, less injured by slights or exclusions.
Or not?
Andre Malroux wrote about an old priest who, when asked what he had learned hearing all those confessions for all those years, replied “that there are no adults.”
Is there an antidote to this primal urge? Those potentially exclusive circles above? What if more people drew wider circles, to “include in” rather than “keep out?” What would politics be like, or daily living?
Primal urges need not dictate destiny.
Daniel E. White
January 21, 2019