Notes on Project Emerson: Friendship
Class Meeting: Already failed. Looked around for friends to sit with, sat down with acquaintances because I didn’t want to sit alone and “look like a loser”, asked permission to sit down with them. Unfortunately I did not “drop this idolatry [and] bid [my] dearest friends farewell” (213) in order to be more independent and dignified. I did try to start a conversation with one of the people I was with but didn’t get very far because he wasn’t interested. “It is affinity that determines which two shall converse” (209). I suppose there was not a lot of affinity between us. Then again I knew that; I was just hard up for conversation. But I was actually curious as to how he was doing. He just didn’t reciprocate. Little matter. “It never troubles the sun that some of his rays fall wide and vain into ungrateful space…thou art enlarged by thy own shining” (213).
Library: Hanging out with [my good friend] Amelia. Natural. Good. No petty talk.
I’ve had honest conversations with Gary and Nora, who are also doing the Emerson Project. They say they’re doing well so far. The best part is that the conversations are natural, dignified, relaxed, honest.
A teacher just came by with the syllabus for her new course in hand. I told her I was thinking about taking it (big lie). She gave me a sheet and told me to “think about it”. Why is not being petty so hard? Society’s nicety rules do not allow for true honesty. I might get in trouble.
More social niceties: saying I miss [Amelia’s friend who left Bishop’s] Sam for Amelia’s sake when I don’t. “We parry and fend the approach of our fellow-man by compliments, by gossip, by amusements, by affairs” (207). And Amelia is not some fair-weather friend. But I still put up at least a partial façade in front of her, to make her feel like I empathize with her when really I just sympathize.
Later: The speaker didn’t come. I wasn’t rude but didn’t fake excitement either. I hung out with my friends, relaxed, not speaking, just being with them (I did talk a bit, but it wasn’t forced at all – only when I had something to say). I asked for food without apology. I told them calmly that I had a bad headache without worrying about what they would think of me for it. They urged me to get an Advil, and after a little convincing (“don’t try to be stoic”, said Natasha) I did. I didn’t force conversation with the nurse, nor did I unnecessarily compliment her about her daughter (though I could have). I wasn’t weird around [popular girl] Isabelle, and I answered her “How are you?” honestly: “I will be [good] after I take this pill”. I did mindlessly ask “How are you?” and not truly listen to the answer.
Religion: I contested Tina’s outrage on being “treated badly” by a college interviewer who supported Prop. 8 (Tina is very against Prop. 8). I told her that, though I like and respect her, I happen to have a different opinion than she does. Ryan moaned and asked us to please stop talking about it. Ellie also rolled her eyes. But I don’t care about what society thinks. At least not today. I was respectful, and that’s what matters. I let Tina rant – I didn’t interrupt her – which was only fair. “A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud” (207). Both Tina and I took advantage of that today. Note of A Few Days Later: And we’ve seen how that’s impacted my life. Now I actually have to stand up for my opinion. Not that that’s not terrifying, but “better [to] be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo” (210). Does that only count for friends, or also for society as a general unit?
APUSH: I wanted so badly to be a part of the conversation in class today. Would it have been right to ask for a spot in the discussion circle, to plead, beg, or trade? It just seems so under-hand and low. I was really disappointed, though. But my history teacher wants me not only to be on time, but to stop talking so much in class. Emerson would agree with him. He admonishes us to “wait until the necessary and everlasting overpowers you, until day and night avail themselves of your lips” (211). Only speak when your words will truly mean something. I know I speak too freely. Especially today, I did not censor my thoughts. “A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud” (207). Yet four pages later we must remember that silence is golden. We must not abuse the freedom our friend gives us – but if we hold back, are we being true friends?
Lunch: Social niceties are so natural and require so little thought; it’s very easy for them to just slip out. But Emerson says we shouldn’t do that. I think I was pretty good about not being very shallow, although I wonder: is it possible to only talk about deep things with your friends? What if it’s just a moment of: “come with me” or “hang on, I want to finish my milk first”? Not everything you are going to say is going to be profound. I think Emerson just wants us to not talk for the sake of filling space. Silence is golden. I have not censured my thoughts today. I have just let myself say what I felt like saying. “A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud” (207). I did (jokingly) suggest that Eliza skip class with me. Natasha recognized that I have been reading too much Emerson. She knew I would like him because he rebels for intellectual reasons. I do like him. I adore him. And I kind of like living by him. But natural kindness somewhat goes against his ideas. I feel obligated to be nice to people. But I usually just want them to leave me alone! I’m thinking polite but firm would be the way to go. Emerson would approve.I considered emailing the guy from Colorado. I thought dialogue would enrich the two of us, that I could get closer to him. Perhaps I was fantasizing that “great conversation [would allow our] two souls [to become] one” (209). Then I remembered not seeing his eyes and I thought: what’s the point? We’d have nothing to say to each other anyway. Then again it doesn’t truly matter whether he cares or not. Simply because I once cared about him, I am “enlarged by [my] own shining” (213). Personally I don’t see the good in this. It is not as if my infatuation has ever given anyone a benefit. Rather, it has made others uncomfortable and me generally miserable. Any pleasure it has given me is false hope, and truth is one of two essential tenants of friendship…
At home: When I got in the car with Mom, I asked her how she was and listened sincerely. I asked questions about important part in both her and my sister’s day because I wanted the conversation to be meaningful, to be deep.
What I have realized about my sister is that she embodies one of my favorite quotes by Emerson (which I have already used three times): “A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud” (207). Because I was thinking in Project Emerson mode, I realized how natural and free of falsehood our conversations really are. I never have to think about how I look or what I sound like or seem like in front of her. She is truly my greatest friend. We love each other unconditionally, because we are so comfortable with each other. “I offer myself faintly and bluntly to those whose I effectually am” (208). Although we are not “property” (210) of each other, we are really friends simply because we love each other, without conditions, reasons, or even conscious thought. I think I am more honest with her perhaps than anyone else in the world, because I do not have to translate my ideas into words for her to understand. She just gets it. I hope this does not sound too abstract or cliché. But it is true that “so much character can subsist in another as to draw us by love” (208). I have that with my sister; I have that with a few close friends at Bishop’s. Sure, you can say that we share an “affinity” (209) or connection because we are very similar (quirky artists with honest, teenage, and gritty undertones, as well as perhaps a positive exterior in my family’s case), but I think that is only the simple explanation. I have come to the conclusion through this exercise that there are three levels of affinity: first, the shallow, first-glance layer; second, the contemplative and thoughtful layer; and finally the layer of the soul.
My formula for true friendship (according to my life and Emerson’s essay) is as follows:
1. Shallow layer: We must have some “sort of tie” (208) in order to meet and mingle, at least in the beginning, but we must take care to “be our own before we can be another’s” (211) and not spend all our time with our new friend.
2. Contemplative layer: “Friendship requires that rare mean betwixt likeness and unlikeness that piques each with the presence of power and of consent in the other party” (210). We must have the “affinity that determines which two shall converse” (209), but at the same time it is “better [to] be a nettle in the side of your friend than his echo” (210). You cannot be too alike or you will repel each other; at the same time if you can’t stop arguing you can’t start caring about each other. “I am equally balked by antagonism and by compliance” (210).
3. Soul layer: I think with this layer, you must have a connection. “It is affinity that determines which two shall converse” (209). There must be something between you, some sort of complement, which keeps the puzzle pieces together. “In the last analysis, love is only the reflection of a man’s own worthiness from other men. Men have sometimes exchanged names with their friends, as if they would signify that in their friend each loved his own soul” (212). We tend to gravitate towards people who make us curious on a contemplative level but who give our souls a friendly hearth, a safe, secure, and well-known fireplace in the midst of the stormy world. We chose our deepest friends as worthy of our affections because there is something innately like us in them. They are not our “echo” (210), but instead our “counterpart…a sort of beautiful enemy, untamable, devoutly revered, and not a trivial conveniency to be soon outgrown and cast aside” (211).
I realize that this formula is not perfect. It is not the be-all and end-all on friendship – nor, for that matter, is Emerson. It is just a thought, my way of trying to sort my feelings together at the end of the day. This exercise in Emerson really made me think about who I am and who I want to be; what my friendships are and how to make them stronger. In all honesty, though, (which I should be doing, since this is Emerson) this exercise pretty much proved to be how true and profound my deep friendships really are. I have been “enlarged by [my] own shining” (213).
