Generated and Recalled Realities
A Tree, Library, and Eco
It’s probably not a special awareness to know the special dilemma of appearance vs. substance our day seems to be sprinting endlessly into. I’ve had two enough encounters with this concept, one that I still think about and the other I avoid but participate in.
Concept: Tree
When I was single and dating around in DC, I met someone who shared something giving her joy was building a lego bonsai tree. Those words, “Lego bonsai tree,” didn’t compute right away for me. What is that? I had to look it up.
It’s a Lego set of a bonsai tree. And it’s not.
There is a landing page for the Lego bonsai tree. The way they describe it is incredible (“Our most therapeutic set”). They suggest that it is as true as a natural bonsai tree, that it would contribute to a peaceful environment, etc. Look at the language and then cut back to the image of the Lego bonsai tree. Picture, for a moment, the profound beauty that comes with a still mind in a relaxing place like a zen garden. Think of how the other elements contribute to that environment. Now, flip one of the cherished symbols of that scene, the bonsai tree, into an 8-bit version of itself. Hilarity ensues.
It just doesn’t add up. Building the tree could perfectly be a peaceful, fun experience, but something like this is only as good as a memory when it tries to deliver what the actual thing does. It does not generate; it recalls.
Concept: Library
I’m enjoying being a student again. This has been my first semester back into it, and the content and program are excellent. I am also benefiting from the chance to go to a campus to study, in fact a brand new campus. It’s quite beautiful. Look at this place:
It’s inspiring to be there. But look at this:
One thing that hasn’t worked, though, is the space they call “the library.” In the image above, it’s the floor with the green chairs in the back. That’s it. I have tried to study there, but it simply doesn’t not work. People talk normally and loudly all the time there, walking by the open, massive door way or at the tables. It is also only one floor above, and right directly above, the entrance to the building. All the sound of the main hall and the entrance washes upward and crashes on the quiet space.
There are books on the shelves for student work. There are nice tables and desks to use for reading and writing, but it does not generate the effect of the library. It only recalls what a library is, what it looks like. (For comparison, consider the Peabody Library, another facility in the Johns Hopkins sphere.)
For that reason, I don't study on that floor. I love to spend early Sunday mornings at the top floor and take breaks on the terrace.
It’s been a splinter for me, this question of substance and appearance. A favorite writer, Umberto Eco has a book titled in the English version, “Faith in Fakes.” I think of that sometimes when I meet a thing that is a shell for the real version. His comment comes from a reflection on his time at the Palace of Living Arts in Buena Vista, but it’s still on the tip of my tongue:
“The Palace’s philosophy is not, ‘We are giving you the reproduction so that you will want the original,’ but rather, ‘We are giving you the reproduction so you will no longer feel any need for the original.’ But for the reproduction to be desired, the original has to be idolized….”.
What is there to be done with a fake tree and fake library?
More soon,
Trevor
P.S.
I’m going to start a winter break sooner than originally thought. It’s been a heavy few months, for reasons published and not published. I plan on taking December off to think on things, like after the 100 day project last year. I’ll still write to you during that time but to share some sources of inspiration while I reflect.
Now-reading affiliate links:
