Let me begin by answering your questions...(and let you begin by feeling the proper guilt for not having answered all of mine!) -- actually, I'm only jesting -- although I would be quite pleased if only you could tell me your opinion about fate (please?!?). I know I am a terrible pest (mea culpa, etc.), but if only the kind gentle man (may I sop here and tell you -- yes I do have some point to make, only wait a few more seconds...) what a perfectly (oh well, almost perfectly, I supposed no one is really perfect -- I mean within reason) kind and thoughtful person you are to take an interest in that woman. This is the kind of thing you can't say in person very well, so I'm happy that I can write it. (Sorry to be writing on the wrong side of this, but what with the paper shortage )
So anyway, please comply (or be pestered completely! (abt. fate, I mean).
Now (finally and with no more ado!) your questions: 1) tete-a-tete; 2) no, you did not tell me why Pgh was a fantasyland for you. Why?; 3) no, I never (hardly ever, maybe) capitalize library science -- which brings me to the next question -- #4 ("What is your actual opinion of library science as a career? Be truthful now.")
Let me ask you if you have ever read Plato's Republic? In it there is a discussion of the real and the unreal. Plato feels that for each thing on earth there is some perfection which is being imitated. (i.e.) If there is a chair on earth it is really only a chair, while the chair (or chairness) is somewhere else and being the only perfect chair nothing matches it -- although all good chairs aspire (to different degrees, naturally). These perfections are form (essential forms of goodness).
Now -- he tells an allegory of a cave into which prisoners are taken (that's us Tweet). They are forced to sit facing one of the walls. In back of them (and they can never turn around) there is a "stage" where things and people can be. They can move and be moved. No -- I'm sorry. The people and things are actually in front of the prisoners, but it happens that they are hidden from the prisoners by a roaring fire which comes between the 2 groups.
Naturally, the fire casts a shadow of the people and things behind it onto the wall which the prisoners face. They see only the image and not the real and the recognize the image as the reality.
If they were released from those chains it would perplex them to be confronted with reality. It would be painful, but it would be "worth it" since they would experience wisdom.
The last thing to be perceived in the world of knowledge is the essential form of goodness (true reality). Without this, wisdom is not possible, so it is necessary to detach appearances and reality.
Therefore -- library science seems fit to relegate to the realm of the image (the shadow rather than being anything real. It appears to be a passive, menial "profession" with very little to offer one who wants to perform a real function. It does not seem to be the type of work an activist could be attached to, being so staid and dry.
We -- as librarians -- are confined, it seems to me that we realized this before though, if not consciously, then at least in a small subconscious way. We just hoped for more, you know? I suppose to finish the comparison, we are kept from really doing (as the prisoners are kept from really seeing). If we were given a chance to act maybe we wouldn't be up to accepting it -- or maybe we just wouldn't know what to do.
It would further seem that we could free ourselves but that this would involve hardship ($ not mental) and also what else would we do?
I don't know if this makes any sense at all, really. At this point I'm hardly the person who would be stable enough to see anything like this clearly and you are probably all ready to have me escorted (white jackets, etc.) to the nearest looney bin.
I suppose my job is not too bad. It is very hectic and I'm not exactly bored. But by exactly bored I mean that it's frustrating in many ways. It certainly is a far cry from what I've ever had planned as a lifework for myself. I sometimes just stop and wonder just what the hell I'm doing at that place where nuns and only other women abound (I like to talk to men once in awhile and I'm sick of hearing about the guys at Vincent's - Seton Hill's brother school). Every girl at Seton Hill dates someone from Vincent's -- how quaint! how parochial!!
Seton Hill is a cookie factory -- where almost (I have met some very interesting people) everyone is awfully similar. It's just depressing It is also a place where not to much (or no) independent or creative thought of any kind is appreciated. (Do you know that I stapled something in an "unorthodox" way and had to remove all the stuff I did and change it. I mean how mundane can you get?) Also I am in charge of reserves which is a realllll pain (and not only an apparent one!)
I certainly sound mean. I do the vertical file (subject headings, acquisitions, etc.) which I enjoy but hardly ever get to touch because of "priorities". I also "do" the picture collection which I have never done 'cause of the above.
Also (last but certainly not least) I do the library statistics! (And nI am not so good at it, either!) and I get to copy them all very neatly into a ledger -- a real scrivener!
(Ah Bartleby! Ah, humanity!
I'm certainly being good company, well -- anyway, Bev seems quite thrilled about her job, so I suppose there's some good in it. She (and you, too) are at least on your own. Although I shouldn't complain 'cause I'm definitely learning something from the 2 people I work with. (If it's of value remains to be seen,m of course!)
I don't know, I just hope things turn out all right. (That's the trouble with being brought up Catholic -- always hoping for miracles. Maybe I should move to New York and hang around 34th Street?)
This week has been been going pretty well -- actually (and surprisingly). Yesterday, I got to see Diane (who had an interview at the Phila Customs House where I used to work!) for dinner. It was so nice, almost like old times. She is staying with Bev in Delaware. (Bev works at Delaware State Hosp.) It would really be nice if Diane got this job. I hope she does; it's really a neat place to be. Only 1 block from the wharfs -- really picturesque. Also, she wants to be near home but not too near, so this would fit in.
I took the bus home (horrors!) on Wed. I met the most intriguing person. This guy from London who was traveling across America by thumb and by bus. Her certainly was nice and we talked (nonstop) for seven hours. When Phila came, (he was going to N.Y.) we had dinner and I felt as though I were leaving an old friend when we kissed goodbye. It was very strange, but very nice. He said that parts of my Philadelphia accent were borrowed from very high class (snobby) English, and he was amazed that he was hearing this in America. (Imagine that!) I suppose I shall have to tone that down! (If I ever went to England it wouldn't help because I could never be mistaken for class!)
I think we've miscommunicated about perceiving what others really feel and think. I do believe it can be done and I feel I often do it, but I wonder if what we think is the subconscious thought or feeling which we are viewing is really only another coverup. Or a calculated thing?
That's really what made me take up reading cards. Not so much to inform the other person of himself, but often to inform myself about the other person. There are insights to be gotten from not only the information the cards give, but also the reactions the person has to what the card say. These insights are not otherwise readily available for view in any form, let alone a form so easily discernible.
What? -- oh, never mind; it's a vicious circle.
Right now I am very happy about the wedding and I thank you for you good wishes. I'm most excited about going to New England this week because I know it will be gorgeous. I'm sorry to go on about this but It's the only thing (violins, softly which I have had to look forward to for the past few months.
Please do send me come smpale of your writing if you wish to, ok? I would like it very much. Take care now.
P.S. I haven't seen Kate or spoken to her. Everytime I call her she seems to be out. I will say "hello" to her for you when I finally do get to see her.
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