The Song of Roland

There was once a great literary theorist (who doubled/tripled/etc. as a critic of many other things) named Roland Barthes. In addition to regularly striving to be enigmatic and novel in his ideas, he also demonstrated very clever intellectual ways. For instance, he wrote a piece that was technically autobiographical, but he wrote it as biography in the 3rd person (Barthes on Barthes). As I read a small portion of this for class, I thought it may be a great blog exercise.

J'aime, je n'aime pas ~ I like, I don't like

I like: coffee, Thai/Chinese/Mexican food, acoustic-based music, happy little kids and babies, sunshine, the ocean, the mountains, Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, get togethers, technology, laying on my bed with Sydni and watching Ed, Edd, and Eddy, classic cheesy movies (When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, etc.), discussing beauty secrets with my Aunt Deb while drinking a morning coffee, morning fog, summer breezes, laughing without making noise, making others laugh until they make no noise, books on theology/world religions, books on psychology, books on history, childrens' picture books, love and loyalty, white noise, etc.

I don't like: rudeness, loud talkers, the harpsichord, most nuts (some exceptions), lies, opening gifts in front of the giver, feeling stuck, rabbits, guinea pigs, mice, spiders, soggy french fries (if I'm going to eat unhealthy stuff, it should be worth it), bands that do bad covers, winter months without snow (again, it should be worth it), feeling distance between myself and close friends, highway driving (too boring), grits, heavy metal music, most rap music, dance music, Romance novels, Westerns, Joan Rivers, Montel, Jerry Springer, fantasy/science-fiction, etc.

There are undoubtedly things I've missed, but the way Barthes wrapped this section of his book up was priceless:

"I like, I don't like: this is of no importance to anyone; this, apparently, has no meaning. And yet all this means: my body is not the same as yours. Hence, in this anarchic foam of tastes and distastes, a kind of listless blur, gradually appears the figure of a bodily enigma, requiring complicity or irritation. Here begins the intimidation of the body, which obliges others to endure me liberally, to remain silent and polite confronted by pleasures or rejections which they do not share."