Winter reading

It’s the last day of my winter holiday here and it’s been so good to have some time to read and write. Not as much time as I would like — but I have new respect for all those mothers and fathers who balance childcare and writing / research. This past week I’ve been getting to my office at about 10am and have been relishing in the freedom to do what I like. I am way behind on blog-reading but my research is pretty much on track and I also managed to finish two books over the holidays and am busy with four more.

The Gift of Rain is the story of Philip Khoo-Hutton, a young Chinese-English boy’s relationship with his Japanese sensei before and during the Second World War. I took a while to get into this novel but I loved the descriptions of Penang, the island just off Malaysia where the book is set, the philosophy of martial arts that Philip must learn and the different groups of people (Chinese, Japanese, English, Indian) that populate the novel.

At first I wasn’t that moved by the relationship between Philip and Endo-san (his sensei) but as the Japanese occupation of Malaya unfolds, this sets up unbearable tensions in Philip’s life. The son of a wealthy English businessman and a Chinese mother, Philip straddles two worlds and his relationship with his Japanese sensei means that during the war he is involved on all sides of the conflict. The terrible cruelty of the Japanese, the suffering and resistance of the Chinese, the hardships and failings of the English all blend together in making him who he is. It’s a good story (if a trifle unbelievable at time – for example the emphasis on reincarnation and how this binds Philip and Endo-san together) and I was extremely curious to see how it would end. I was also glad to read a different perspective on the war (and a Chinese one as well) and it gave me a better understanding of Chinese, Malaysian and Japanese ways of life.

A Death in the Familyis an excellent if somewhat controversial memoir. Karl Ove Knausgaard has been a publishing sensation in his native Norway and I can see why. He writes with the skill of a novelist and his ‘merciless frankness’ is refreshing. At the heart of this story is his relationship with his stern (and later alcoholic) father but it is also a reflection on his life so far. He was under 40 when he wrote this memoir and I listened to an interview in which he described how he has had to shut himself off from any reviews and reactions in order to complete the next books in the series. At the moment I am reliving his adolescence with him and I am amazed at his candour. For example, he describes in some detail his first friendships and relationships and I couldn’t help wondering how the girls that he talks about (as well as his male friends) have taken to their details being shared like this.

Another book revelation has been Project Gutenberg, which is a site dedicated to free ebooks (mostly older books that are out of copyright). The most popular download so far has been an audiobook (as well as the text) of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and I snapped it up. I’ve listened to ‘A Scandal in Bohemia’ and am really interested to see how timeless but also a little dated Sherlock Holmes is. We are all so familiar with grisly detective stories that this mystery has a quite innocent quality about it. The detective story formula works so well here that it is lovely to see one of the earliest examples of it.

Psychology-wise, I’m taking a break from anger research and have started Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams. I didn’t realize how chatty he can be! And his thoroughness in analyzing his own dreams is quite inspirational. Lately I find that my dreams slip from my grasp before I can catch them but I know from experience that if the dream is important enough, it will allow me to get some glimpse of it.

Lastly, I am filling in the reading gaps (small as they are) with Zadie Smith’s collection of essays Changing My Mind. I won’t describe them here but she writes beautifully.

If only I had another three weeks (preferably in a warmer climate) to read all of these. The next big break will be December. I imagine that some of these may still be on the go then.

The Dance of Anger

‘Stand like a mountain, bend like grass. It’s at the heart of having both a marriage and a self.’ I love this quote from Harriet Lerner’s Huffington Post blog because it sums up much of what I think psychology is all about — the relationship between self and other.

Harriet Lerner is a clinical psychologist, one of the US’s foremost relationship experts and an author who has ‘dedicated her writing life to translating complex theory into accessible and useful prose’. Her 1985 classic The Dance of Anger is one of those books that I wish I had read years and years ago. As someone who has had my fair share of ‘anger issues’ over the years, I could really have used her calm advice on how to use anger in a productive way to improve my relationships.

This is the opening paragraph:

‘Anger is a signal and one worth listening to. Our anger may be a message that we are being hurt, that our rights are being violated, that our needs or wants are not being adequately met, or simply that something is not right. Our anger may tell us that we are not addressing an important emotional issue in our lives, or that too much of the self – our beliefs, values, desires or ambitions – is being compromised in a relationship. Our anger may be a signal that we are doing more and giving more than we can comfortably do or give. Or our anger may warn us that others are doing too much for us, at the expense of our own competence and growth.’ — Dance of Anger, p.1

Great opening I thought. Any reservations that this book is just for women (the subtitle is A Woman’s Guide to Changing the Pattern of Intimate Relationships) were quickly dispelled. After all, men have just as much difficulty defining themselves and how to balance those selves in relationships as women do.

One of the things that Lerner does here is to use practical examples from her own life and those of her patients to explain typical relationship pitfalls. For example, she and her husband Steve (also a clinical psychologist) used to get into major arguments when their first son was six months old. Harriet was worried that their son was developmentally delayed while Steve refused to acknowledge the possibility. The two of them would get into a repetitive pattern in which she would get more and more worried and he would distance and minimise:

The more I expressed worry and concern, the more Steve distanced and minimised; the more he distanced and minimised, the more I exaggerated my position. This sequence would escalate until it finally became intolerable, at which point each of us would angrily point the finger at the other for ‘starting it’.

As it turns out, their son wasn’t delayed but their arguments about it became particularly unhelpful. As Lerner explains, venting anger in the form of complaining at your partner usually doesn’t solve the problem.

If feeling angry signals a problem, then venting anger does not solve it. Venting anger may serve to maintain, and even rigidify, the old rules and patterns in a relationship, thus ensuring that change does not occur. When emotional intensity is high, many of us engage in non-productive efforts to change the other person, and in so doing, fail to exercise our power to clarify and change our own selves.

She then makes a helpful distinction between two typical female styles of anger: ‘nice lady’ and ‘bitchy woman’. Nice ladies keep anger to themselves and avoid making clear statements about what they think and feel ‘when we suspect that such clarity would make another person uncomfortable and expose the differences between us’. Society rewards them for their ‘niceness’ but the personal costs in terms of emotional and mental well-being are high.

In contrast, the ‘bitchy woman’ often gets into a ‘pattern of ineffective fighting, complaining and blaming that only preserves the status quo’. As Lerner says: “When we voice our anger ineffectively – without clarity, direction and control – it may in the end be reassuring to others. We allow ourselves to be written off and we provide others with an excuse not to take us seriously and hear what we are saying.”

The answer here is deceptively simple. Use anger as a tool for clarifying your own position and for changing relationships rather than blaming people:

1. Tune in to the true sources of our anger and clarify where we stand
2. Learn better communication skills
3. Learn to observe and interrupt non-productive patterns of interaction
4. Learn to anticipate and deal with countermoves and “change back” reactions from others.

Lerner does explain that it’s not as easy as it sounds and that families (and partners) will often do their best to try and resist that change. She provides example from all aspects of family life — one of the chapters is titled “Anger at our impossible mothers” while others deal with children, ageing parents and family triangles. Obviously patterns that have taken decades to develop require a lot of work to change but I found the scripted dialogues very helpful (if a trifle formulaic at times). I was surprised to see that the process of change could be summarised (at its most basic) to the rather bland-sounding steps of observation, clarifying the pattern and gathering data (as part of disrupting the pattern).

Interestingly, an important part of that data-gathering appeared to be going back to how previous generations dealt with similar issues. For example, a 50-year old woman struggling with an ageing father who is increasingly dependent on her, looks to previous generations to see how similar problems were solved in the past (and how people felt about those solutions). She is then able to choose an option which works best for her (while still being caring towards her father).

Lerner talks about “emotional hanging-in” and this was a particularly good point I thought. Applying her theories to our present situation in which our little one has meltdowns when she doesn’t get to watch “winna-pooh” has been helpful. Clarifying the boundary (e.g. once a day) and still being attuned to her emotionally seems to be the way to go here. In some ways the problem is hers in that she is having the tantrum but the problem is also ours in that we are the ones who don’t like her behaviour. Clarifying our position and remaining calm in the face of the meltdown seems to be a good way to keep that elusive balance between self and other. But I’ll let you know how we get along with that strategy!

All in all, an excellent read and one I’ll come back to in years to come (in addition to checking out The Dance of Connection, The Dance of Anxiety and her latest one, Marriage Rules).