Obsession
When is it a good thing, or a bad thing.
The good and the bad. Let’s start with the bad how obsession can begin as an innocent objective, to something more sinister and sometimes frightening.
The Collector: Butterflies or People, it’s all the same, it starts with knowledge and the need for more, and then Your friend who studies butterflies starts catching them and mounting them in a frame. His obsession has progressed to the next stage, he is now a collector. But that one butterfly isn’t enough. So he goes to the Natural History Museum and sees the collection they have, his obsessional itch grows and he wants to scratch it.
The object of his obsession, a celebrity now becomes an Object to be collected. It starts with photos from a distance, then closer, then selfies with his obsession. Then that isn’t enough, he needs to touch her. This would be like touching a goddess, Aphrodite personified. She’s real. I can feel her.
You’ve now met her dozens of times as an invisible person behind a fence. But your face is becoming more familiar to her. Then one day, she makes eye contact, and your heart flutters. She says ‘Hi’, and your voice is lost in the siren’s echo. She touches your hand and it’s electric. Your whole body becomes static, every hair on your body stands on end. You’ve just been touched by your goddess.
The selfies are no longer with the time, you need more contact. You need to see her eyes again and hear her voice. Feel her touch. That is the new path of this obsession.
You take down all the posters and pictures you’ve hung. It would be kinda weird if she saw them. I mean, you’re a grown-ass man now, not only does she know you exist, she likes you, she smiled big and bright and spoke to you. She said ‘Hi’.
She likes you. Like, LIKES YOU LIKES YOU.
You don’t have her number, you’ll ask her for it the next time you see her. You tell your friends that you speak to her. She’s great, you talked all night and she touched your hand. You send her a message on Instagram…
Nothing. No reply. That’s weird, it’s been five minutes. Why hasn’t she replied?
You send another one. And another.
Is she ghosting you?
Nah…
I think you can guess where this story is going. The object of his obsession becomes the butterfly.
This is what happens when obsession gets out of control. Sure it’s an extreme example and thankfully rare.
So, is there a good kind of obsession?
Because I’m a self-absorbed narcissist let’s talk about Me.
I have recently become obsessed with a Poem.
An Epic Poem consisting of 3128 lines.
It’s the oldest piece of literary work in the English language and by that I mean Old English - Anglo-Saxon.
Written at some point between 975 and 1025 AD but we believe it’s a story that was passed on verbally and created around the 5th or 6th century. The earliest manuscript, at the British Library, is older than the Magna Carta, 1215 AD.
I bought a copy of J.R.R. Tolkien’s translation of it many years back intending to read it but never did. And now due to my new way of reading/listening to books, I bought the Penguin Classic’s version of the book, translated by Micheal Alexander. I bought this one because it has an Audible version. This got me hooked.
I pulled out Tolkien’s version and bought a few others, one from Seamus Heaney and one that has a side-by-side comparison with old and new English by Tom Shippey.
A book on it’s origins by Sam Newton.
I have become obsessed with Beowulf.
How obsessed? Will I have three names in my head, two from future dogs, Kujo for the larger wolf-dog and Douglas for the smaller, scruffy one.
And now I have a name for my firstborn son (If I have one) Beowulf.
This kind of obsession can’t really get out of control to the point where I’m masturbating to photos shoot on 35mm or medium format film of a woman I’m in love with and I know for gospel fact, loves me TOO.
All I can do here is learn everything there is to learn about this piece of work. I can read all the different translations, including all seven Japanese translations, and every piece of study on the manuscript.
I can learn everything about England at the time it was created 5th to 6th century and when it was written, the 10th - 11th century.
What was England like back then?
And then learn about the people Beowulf is about, Scandinavians, Swedish, the Gaets, and the Danes (Norway and Finland aren’t in Beowulf).
Learning about this period, from 5th to 11th century England and Scandinavia will give me a better picture of the time, and its people, politics, migrations and raids, their lives.
What was it like for poets in England back then?
Who transcribed it in the 10th - 11th century?
Who was the first person to translate it into modern English?
This is the kind of obsession whose outcome is knowledge. It’s a gain to Me.
To my friends, it might get annoying if all I talk about is Beowulf, the ancient English and Vikings.
And yes, I would love to learn to speak and read Anglo-Saxon. So there’s that too.
I think I’ll leave it there.
[Edited on 24th July]
I have bought two more translations of Beowulf. And a well regarded book on learening the Anglo-Saxon language.
And I am not the least bit sorry I did so.
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