{"id":86270,"date":"2015-06-02T18:08:22","date_gmt":"2015-06-02T22:08:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=86270"},"modified":"2015-06-02T18:26:34","modified_gmt":"2015-06-02T22:26:34","slug":"fun-games","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/06\/02\/fun-games\/","title":{"rendered":"Fun, Games"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_86285\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/696px-unbekannter_maler_im_gefolge_l._cranach_d.a._-_melancholia.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-86285\" class=\"wp-image-86285\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/696px-unbekannter_maler_im_gefolge_l._cranach_d.a._-_melancholia.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"600\" height=\"507\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/696px-unbekannter_maler_im_gefolge_l._cranach_d.a._-_melancholia.jpg 696w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/696px-unbekannter_maler_im_gefolge_l._cranach_d.a._-_melancholia-300x253.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-86285\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Unknown painter, <i>Melancholia<\/i> (detail), 1528.<\/p><\/div>\n<blockquote>\n<p>It\u2019ll be just lovely for you to play\u2014it\u2019ll be so hard. And there\u2019s so much more fun when it is hard!<br \/> \u2015Eleanor H. Porter, <em>Pollyanna <\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>As regular readers of this space know, I try to see the silver linings in things. The other day, I was Pollyanna-ing around, trying to <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/11\/13\/the-glad-game\/\">Glad Game<\/a> a fit of depression, as is my wont. What\u2019s good about this experience? I thought. And on the face of it, that\u2019s a tricky one: it\u2019s hard to find much to love about those days when you wake up filled with a vague, enervating dread and simultaneously want not to exist and to wonder how anyone, anywhere, has ever had the energy to go on a self-destructive tear.<\/p>\n<p>When you are overcome with guilt and shame. When you know that the next days will be given over to wrestling your brain into some semblance of normalcy, and that the effort will take everything you have. And that there\u2019s no bravery or triumph in overcoming it, because to do so is only to regain normalcy\u2014and if you\u2019ve done your job right, no one will know there was ever anything wrong. <!--more--><\/p>\n<p>And that this will irritate and upset people you love, and that you will become something they fear. That they will see you at your worst, a dreary shadow. And, worst of all, that you will become a crushing bore in the process.<\/p>\n<p>But even this has its upsides! Being a total bore is kind of interesting. Probably not at a party, but then in these states you\u2019re not going to parties. It\u2019s true, life under depression has no color or texture, and certainly no humor, but as a result, judgments fall away, too: that time-travel romance someone left on a table in the lobby is no worse or better than any other book, one reality TV show much the same as the next. It is sort of like being an alien\u2014at least the sort of humorless, unironic alien we see normally portrayed, albeit with considerably less interest in amateur proctology.<\/p>\n<p>As with any illness, after the fact you do appreciate feeling well. You feel happiness. As a friend of mine once put it, \u201cafter you\u2019ve been miserable for no reason, it\u2019s hard to do it voluntarily.\u201d I don\u2019t know that I agree, though; to feel the pierce of real grief\u2014at news, at a novel, at heartbreak\u2014is itself vivid after the dull ache of the depressive state. A stab of anger or pain that does not snowball into something overwhelming but instead peaks and abates can have its charms.<\/p>\n<p>I was so taken with my round of Glad Game that I thought I\u2019d revisit <em>Pollyanna<\/em>. But when I got to the library, I found that someone else had checked it out. Instead, I borrowed another Eleanor Porter novel,\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/Mary-Marie-Eleanor-H-Porter\/dp\/1406832375\" target=\"_blank\"><em>Mary Marie<\/em><\/a>. This is the story of a thirteen-year-old girl whose parents are divorcing. In the last chapter, we meet her as an unhappily married woman:<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>But, after all, what is the use of going over these last miserable years like this? Eunice is five now. Her father is the most popular portrait painter in the country, I am almost tempted to say that he is the most popular <em>man<\/em>, as well. All the old charm and magnetism are there. Sometimes I watch him (for, of course, I <em>do<\/em> go out with him once in a while), and always I think of that first day I saw him at college. Brilliant, polished, witty\u2014he still dominates every group of which he is a member. Men and women alike bow to his charm. (I\u2019m glad it\u2019s not <em>only<\/em> the women. Jerry isn\u2019t a bit of a flirt. I will say that much for him. At any rate, if he does flirt, he flirts just as desperately with old Judge Randlett as he does with the newest and prettiest <em>debutante<\/em>: with serene impartiality he bestows upon each the same glances, the same wit, the same adorable charm.) Praise, attention, applause, music, laughter, lights\u2014they are the breath of life to him. Without them he would\u2014But, there, he never <em>is<\/em> without them, so I don\u2019t know what he would be.<\/p>\n<p>After all, I suspect that it\u2019s just that Jerry still loves the ice-cream and the sunsets, and I don\u2019t. That\u2019s all. To me there\u2019s something more to life than that\u2014something higher, deeper, more worth while. We haven\u2019t a taste in common, a thought in unison, an aspiration in harmony. I suspect\u2014in fact I <em>know<\/em>\u2014that I get on his nerves just as raspingly as he does on mine. For that reason I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll be glad\u2014when he gets my letter.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>So much for the Pollyanna point of view. But then, this is one of the books Porter wrote for an adult audience, of course. And <em>Pollyanna<\/em> is for children.<\/p>\n<p><em>Sadie Stein is contributing editor of <\/em>The Paris Review<em>, and the <\/em>Daily<em>\u2019s correspondent.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>It\u2019ll be just lovely for you to play\u2014it\u2019ll be so hard. And there\u2019s so much more fun when it is hard! \u2015Eleanor H. Porter, Pollyanna As regular readers of this space know, I try to see the silver linings in things. The other day, I was Pollyanna-ing around, trying to Glad Game a fit of [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":178,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[13115],"tags":[513,18338,16022,18337,16877,16020],"class_list":["post-86270","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-our-daily-correspondent","tag-depression","tag-depressives","tag-eleanor-porter","tag-glad-game","tag-melancholy","tag-pollyanna"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Being a Total Bore Is Kind of Interesting<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Sadie Stein on depression.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/06\/02\/fun-games\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Fun, Games by Sadie Stein\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"June 2, 2015 \u2013 It\u2019ll be just lovely for you to play\u2014it\u2019ll be so hard. 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