Child of our time

Anyone been watching this for the last ten years (obviously gaps within viewing sessions are allowed; I don't mean has anyone been watching this permanently without at least a few screen breaks for the last ten years).

Amazing, isn't it? For those who don't know, it's a study group of children whose parents--before the kids were even born--signed them up to be followed by film crews for the first twenty years of their lives, in order to show us how human personalities evolved.

Last night's programme was a bit of a mixed bag, focusing more on the studio graphics and popular science than on the children--who are all pretty wonderful, and I know I shouldn't have a favourite but how can it not be Helena (see pic)?--but the stats it revealed were pulled from a pretty impressive study. The Beeb has results from more than 200,000 Brits who took part in this personality test, which may not be available at the moment due to millions more who seem to be going onto the site to undertake the test themselves.

Snowboarding looks like fun

The title of this post is from David Isaak's recent look at POV's in fiction. Discussing third person viewpoints he says, '[Patrick] O'Brian makes omniscience look like great fun. But, then, snowboarding looks like great fun, too--but I suspect it's actually rather hard work.'

I'm just reading Mark Rowland's excellent book The Philosopher and the Wolf (How I missed this book on release I don't know, as I'm on Granta's mailing list and used to be a dog trainer with a special interest in spitz breeds (double-coated dogs with curly tails, like huskies, Akita's and the Samoyed I share my home with), and have an active interest in wolf behaviour and philosophy.

In one chapter partially meditating on happiness, Rowlands talks about happiness containing some form of pain or misery. He describes the process of trying to think an idea that is too difficult for you to think, but that thinking on it and around it, you can eventually manage to 'capture' it, or at least hone your hunting skills in much the same way as a wolf might stalk a rabbit. This opinion applies to writing too of course, but where it differs I assume from thinking is that with thinking (and to narrative plotting to a degree, I suppose) the pinnacle of the happiness comes in the Eureka! moment. A point that Rowlands' side-steps (I can't imagine that he would counter it as not being a facet of happiness) is that of finding the groove or being in the zone. He describes boxing as a way to find the zone, but obviously boxing also involves an amount of pain, so this meshes with his assertion of happiness containing a measure of pain.

As a pretty incompetent musician, I have no illusions about my ability, and rarely have the time or inclination to practice enough to become in any way competent, but I am good enough to be able to jam with other people and hit the high of being in the groove. There's no pain involved as I have no illusions or expectation and I could apply the same principle to gardening. I suppose if you look at the entire process, writing for most of us does contain a level of uncomfortableness similar to that suggested by Rowlands, but if you strip away the publishing process, if you're a make-it-up-as-you-go-along writer or a planner with a plan in place, writing in the zone is one of the least painful forms of happiness.

Flowers and other emotions

I don't read much poetry really, but the other day I read Wendy Cope's Flowers, and it made me come over a bit peculiar.

Possibly a somewhat obvious observation, but I suppose poetry is less about the reader's relationship with the writer (character, plot, narrative voice) and more about the reader's relationship with subject of the poem.

Over on the MNW blog, LC Tyler asked what endings of novels had made people cry. I reckon the emotions generated by books and film are in the main sympathetic ones, whereas the emotions stimulated by poems are perhaps more personal.

These questions and more were probably answered in a BBC4 documentary about the physiological and psychological impacts of fiction-reading that aired a while back, but I missed it. So I'm making all this up. Am I wrong?