Waterhouse: “Echo and Narcissus:”
It’s a matter of record that Side is prone to silliness. And that we’ve often been known to go out of our way to engage in it.
But, hey, someone’s gotta try to generate a few laughs around here; humor in Brunswick is in pretty short supply.
There are times, though, where the local environment is so rich with targets for our frivolity that we simply cannot, in good mirth, ignore the challenge right before our eyes.
The Bowdoin Project report, discussed in our recent posts, has generated much comment in response, especially at the campus newspaper, The Bowdoin Orient, as you might expect.
Before we get to that, though, we must tell you that we have often thought of Bowdoin as an intellectual and ideological echo chamber, and one that is over pressurized to prevent any stray wisps of fresh intellectual air from leaking in. We’ve lived for years in the presence of the Ivory Tower, and read of it in any number of ways, including The Ostrich and The Orient.
Further, we’ve watched representatives of the student body, the administration, and the faculty engage in civic discourse in our little town, which as one student famously said, ‘would be nothing without Bowdoin.’ Some public, some not. The Klingles of the faculty have done little to build our esteem, as regular readers well know.
Through this experience, we’ve come to think of self-absorption as more or less the norm for those who inhabit the ‘Bowdoin Bubble,’ whether it be individual or corporate narcissism, or both. In some respects, Bowdoin is Facebook writ large, if you get our drift.
Hence our delight in stumbling across “Echo and Narcissus” to serve as an artistic interpretation of the Bowdoin zeitgeist. At the end of this post, we provide a footnote describing this scene from Greek mythology.
Now to our focus: in an Orient article dated today, Professor of Government Paul Franco makes this statement:
"“My worry about the NAS report is that, for the sake making (sic) a predictable point in a now stale culture war, it will render precious institutions like Bowdoin more vulnerable than they already are, feeding the anti-intellectual perception that they do not provide a practical education and therefore aren’t worth the money,” Franco added."
As the Church Lady might say:
We’d like to parse Franco’s statement, which is the underlying stimulus for this post. We simply couldn’t let it pass without a few pokes of our own. (We understand from a former student that Franco is a fine teacher; so be it. That in no measure diminishes our reaction to his words; it may well increase it.)
“Now stale culture war:” We take from this that Franco believes game over, progressives won, and the culture loses. To which we say au contraire, Professor. For those of us outside the bubble, the culture war is getting hotter by the moment, and if you can’t see that, you better get your intellectual eyes checked, and start planning a sabbatical outside the echo chamber.
“Precious institutions like Bowdoin:” We assume Franco means the faculty and student body make Bowdoin “precious,” including himself, obviously, because brick and mortar and sidewalks and kegs are rarely seen as precious. Just for fun, note that precious and precocious only differ by two letters: co.
Precious (adjective) has the following definitions:
1. of high price or great value; very valuable or costly: precious metals.
2. highly esteemed for some spiritual, nonmaterial, or moral quality: precious memories.
3. dear; beloved: a precious child.
4. affectedly or excessively delicate, refined, or nice: precious manners.
5. flagrant; gross: a precious fool.
We’ll give the Professor the benefit of the doubt and take #5 off the table; the others, no matter your favorite, certainly reek of Narcissus.
“Vulnerable:” Excuuuuuse me? Vulnerable to what? This fortress of intellect, wealth, and self-regard needs knights in shining armor to protect its virtue? Are its intellectual barricades that weak and threatened? We’ll gladly add paranoia to Bowdoin’s defining characteristics if the Professor wishes, but we doubt we can find a painting named “Echo and Narcissus and Paranoia.”
“Feeding the anti-intellectual perception:” OK, that does it; paranoia makes the list. Apparently Bowdoin embodies, nay IS the very definition of intellectual, and any statement or idea or thesis that challenges its primacy is, by decree of Franco, and likely all the other bubble boys and girls (and questioning), anti-intellectual! Heresy! Out damned spot!
To the stocks, you peasants, philistines, and troglodytes!
We’re ready to close now, but before we do, for those of you who can’t appreciate the fine art rendering of Echo and Narcissus that we opened with (subtle irony there, right?), we offer the following visuals to get across the notion of echo chamber:
and narcissism:
And don’t forget to read the end notes just below that will start you down the road of intellectual enlightenment, if only on the highway of sarcasm and incisive criticism.
Of the obviously deserved sort.
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The Legend of Narcissus
(A story to retell)
Narcissus was a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called narcissus.
When Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found that the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.
“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.
“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.
“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”
“But… was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.
“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”
The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:
“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depth of his eyes, my own beauty reflected.” (Paulo Coelho)
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Wikipedia:
The story is told in Book III of the Metamorphoses, and tells the story of a "talkative nymph" who is admired by the goddess Aphrodite for her magnificent voice and song. When she tricks Zeus's jealous wife, Hera, she makes her only able to repeat the last words said, and couldn't say anything on her own. "Yet a chatterbox, had no other use of speech than she has now, that she could repeat only the last words out of many." This is the explanation of the aural effect which was named after her. She falls in love with Narcissus, whom she catches sight of when he is "chasing frightened deer into his nets." Eventually, after "burning with a closer flame," Echo's presence is revealed to Narcissus, who, after a comic, yet tragic scene, rejects her love. Echo prays in her mind of this to Aphrodite, who makes Echo disappear, until she "remains a voice" and "is heard by all."
Then, Narcissus "tired from both his enthusiasm for hunting and from the heat" rests by a spring, and whilst drinking, "a new thirst grows inside him" and he is "captivated by the image of the beauty he has seen" and falls deeply in love with "all the things for which he himself is admired." He then wastes away with love for himself, echoing the manner in which Echo did earlier on. A while later his body is gone, and in its place is a narcissus flower. The pale flower is still found near river banks so that it can be reflected on the water.
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