Tag Archives: Mark Twain

Messages Out of Sync

In this age of distraction many of us don’t notice when we sabotage our own messages.

Over a lifetime of language use, if we are paying attention, most of us will notice the ironies and contradictions that so easily creep into our discourse. Some of us are better than others. And, as least in popular culture, even stand-up comedians can be good at zeroing in on pieces of our verbal or visual communication that are at war with other parts of the same message. Think of the old Woody Allen joke: “Two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of ’em says, ‘Boy, the food at this place is really terrible.’ The other one says, ‘Yeah, I know; and such small portions.'” In those ancient days of my college experience there also seemed to be no end  to repeating the same joke about Richard Nixon’s locution, “We can’t stand pat.” Of course he obviously meant that we need to keep moving forward. But Pat was his reliable spouse’s name. It was an unfortunate but funny unintended meaning that was further undermined by his dead-serious demeanor.

We are all guilty of blindly producing unintended meanings. But in this age of distraction many of us don’t notice when we contradict ourselves in the same message. That’s why one is lucky to have someone who can be their formal or informal editor.

There is no shortage of examples.

  • A full-page ad in a recent issue of Psychology Today features an image of a counselor talking to college students under the shade of large tree. The counselor wearing an official-looking lanyard and gesturing to the others is obviously in charge. It’s the bottom headline that is out of sync. “Earn Your Counseling Degree Online,” it asserts. The college making this offer is apparently prepared to deliver to your computer nearly all of the skills and knowledge needed for a counseling degree. Is it possible to teach and master this kind of personal communication almost entirely on the internet? A promise of teaching full competence remotely needs more.

  • Lately I’ve been reading and writing a about Mark Twain, a towering presence in American literary history. Early in his career he expressed admirable outrage for the same kind of governmental grifting and malfeasance that we are seeing today. His hostility to government leaders in the 1870s seemed prescient: an early warning for our own “Gilded Age.” And yet, as his biographers point out, his later years were often consumed in overspending on a lavish lifestyle, followed by dark moods when his investments floundered. I began to see my hero fading into the distance as he began duplicating the quest for easy wealth that he had criticized in his early writing.

  • There is an old advertisement for Alka-Seltzer Plus Cold Medicine featuring the testimony of a trucker, even though the medicine includes a warning to “not use heavy machinery” while using it.

  • A few years ago I passed a car with a “Conquer Cancer” sticker on the back and a driver up front puffing on a cigarette.

  • Denali National Park is pristine region of thousands of acres that is named after the Indian name of what is now been renamed Mt. McKinley, the highest Peak in North America. GMC clearly wants to invoke the same spirit of this natural wilderness with their popular Yukon Denali, a hulking SUV with, as one option, a gas V8 that gets 14 mpg in ordinary driving. To the extent that “the personal is political,” this seems like a non-sequitur on four wheels for any environmentally conscious driver.

  • Apparent contradictions can also yield pleasant surprises. I’m struck by the achingly beautiful music that was written by stoic men writing the last century, including Johannes Brahms, Edward Elgar and Sergei  Rachmaninoff. Common motifs in many of their pieces are the very meaning of musical melancholy and wistfulness. Our modern view of masculine expression now admits to most of the same feelings that women express. Even so, and perhaps unfairly, I see in images of Brahms an unlikely figure to have produced examples like the 3rd Movement of the Third Symphony. The music of the Romantics is a reminder that a person’s appearance is an unreliable marker of what might be going on inside.

  • Facing politically divisive issues this June, President Donald Trump noted that “My supporters are more in love with me today, and I’m more in love with them, more than they even were at election time where we had a total landslide.” It was an odd kind of lexicon for a world leader to employ about him or herself. It is usually an insecure person might need to publicly affirm their popularity. That is usually left to others. Ironically, the compulsion to say it suggests the opposite. The spontaneous assertion of others’ love for oneself seems like reliable  evidence  of self-doubt.

We’ve Been Here Before

Anyone thinking that a corrupt and out-of-control federal government is a one-off national disaster would do well to remember Mark Twain’s disgust with the “Gilded Age” of his era.

Americans are obviously alarmed at the chaotic dismemberment of the federal government and its norms in these early months of the Trump Administration. Reliable media resources like the Washington Post and New York Times are reminding us of Trump’s attempts to undermine constitutional limitations, and especially his use of the Presidency and its powers to generate income for his family and friends. The current fallout with Elon Musk makes it obvious that tech leaders have sought to win government contracts and punish potential competitors in nearly every industry, from automobiles to steel. Trump family businesses continue apace with efforts to solicit new real estate deals from Arab states and elsewhere, while using government decrees to restrict manufactured products traditionally supplied by former allies like Canada and Germany.

Anyone thinking that a corrupt and out-of-control federal government is a rare exception would do well to remember that Mark Twain’s well-named “Gilded Age: A Tale of Today” (1873) published in 1873 and featuring the same kind of grifting. Samuel Clemens as Mark Twain was a bitter critic of the superficial glitter that masked underlying social issues, highlighting the moral decay and the greed that characterized the era. To be sure, Twain later had his own investment and money-making schemes, mostly centered on printing and publishing. But along with the book’s co-author, Charles Dudley Warner, he viewed this period as a time of chaotic social upheaval, marked by rampant corruption, business speculation, materialism, and a vast contrast between the wealthy and the impoverished masses. As a recent PBS documentary about this period noted,

[T]he average annual income [for an American family] was $380, well below the poverty line. Rural Americans and new immigrants crowded into urban areas. Tenements spread across city landscapes, teeming with crime and filth. Americans had sewing machines, phonographs, skyscrapers, and even electric lights, yet most people labored in the shadow of poverty.

 We may consider adopting the author of Huckleberry Finn and political cartoonist Thomas Nast as patron saints we can turn to as we suffer through the destruction of our once more-ordered politics. Twain hoped but never achieved the idea that Nast would go one speaking tours with him, drawing his his sour images of greed while Twain talked about the moral depravity of a growing class of plutocrats.

                           Thomas Nast

Twain joined a number of other Connecticut neighbors and New England thinkers in decrying the collapse of honest and compassionate leadership. In the words of biographer Justin Kaplan, he used the novel employing the “raw materials” of “disaster, poverty, blighted hopes, bribery, hypocrisy, seduction, betrayal, blackmail, murder and mob violence.”  This “incredible rottenness,” he believed, filled every corner of American life. It left Twain with little hope that American politics could be set right. His literary peers were similarly aghast at the self-dealing and corruption that defined the era.  Walt Whitman wrote that “the depravity of the business classes of or country is not less than has been supposed, but infinitely greater.”

Are we Beyond the Capacity for Self Government?

Perhaps less known is that there are periods in his life when Twain was sour on even the idea of democracy. With the Civil War a recent memory, I would guess that his faith in the judgment of the South where he grew up was not high. And he was none too happy with his self-satisfied Hartford neighbors as well. It is worth remembering that as a younger man, and for just a few weeks, he was a member of the Confederate Army, until, as he tells it, he got bored.

The lesson of Twain’s colorful past is relevant to the question of whether the U.S. now has the human resources for effective and democratic self-government. The perceived power centers of our lives have been fragmented and taken up residence in our devices, with digital mesmerism leaving many of us with little energy to consider what part of this formerly great society we want to be a part of. As with Twain, all of us have to deal with unsavory political acts, hopefully finding redeeming values in our connections to families, sports and art. To paraphrase Friedrich Nietzsche, and to Twain’s credit, ‘We have art in order not to die from ugly social truths.’