No one possess the truth

In today’s Guardian there was an article praising the virtues of the novel and its importance in times of growing intolerance. The full article can be found here but the key paragraph is:

The genius of the novel, according to Kundera, is that it is able to accommodate multiple moral universes, each interacting with the other, without the need to subjugate any one of them to some all-encompassing conclusion. The novel is pluralism in action. As Kundera puts it: the novel is "the imaginary paradise ... where no one possesses the truth, neither Anna nor Karenin, but where everyone has the right to be understood, both Anna and Karenin".

I had not come across the quotation by Milan Kundera before, so when I read it it was fresh and I almost shouted out loud some inanity like “that is so right”. Novels can increase our understanding by encouraging an inclusive form of thinking that recognises characters/people on their own terms. When you look at Mrs Bennett in Pride and Prejudice she is not just silly and ridiculous. She is a woman with anxiety about the future well-being of her family in the face of a genuine problem, whilst her husband, a much more intelligent and sympathetic character, locks himself in his study and avoids the issue. In the best novels, as in life, things are not black and white.

Surprisingly it is the same with running. On one level there could not be a more clear cut sport –you run so far in such a time. There is no dispute and the winner of the race is the one who goes fastest. Simple.

Except that it isn’t. It is not the reason I run. It is not the reason that hundreds of thousands of people plod along the streets. Most of us will not be near the front of a race and so we need other motivation – and in that motivation there are a host of different stories and criteria of success. Some people want to prove themselves through competition whilst others want to prove to themselves that they can run to the end of the street. Some want to loose weight and feel better about themselves whilst other just want the satisfaction of movement. Some people are pushing themselves hard, others are introducing a balance into a sedentary life. The wonderful thing is that all reasons are valid and there is as much strength, determination and virtue at the back of the pack as there is at the front.

Understanding people’s hopes and expectations and being able to celebrate their successes enlarges us all and also makes us realise that there is no one-way to do things. No one possess the truth.

In that way running is just like the novel.

River view

It's been I long time since I returned from holiday yet all I have done is post a couple of holiday snaps and then walk away. Almost as if I had become disengaged from the blog and associated conversations. There have been two main reasons: the first is an effort to cut down on the amount of time I spend in front of computers; the second is a general feeling of blankness and a desire to not repeat myself too much.

The first reason is positive - something I brought back from holiday where the evenings were spent outside, eating , drinking, talking, doing stuff. It felt good and I resolved to do more with my evenings - do stuff, or in other words try to tackle my backlog of tasks. Now that I am fresh fro the triumph of decorating the bathroom I feel I can backslide a bit and do some browsing and typing.

The second reason is totally negative. In an attempt to do something about this feeling of flatness I left work early today to go to the Tate Modern. Leaving aside the artworks, it is a place I sometimes go to think. The Members Room has one of the best views in London - you feel you can almost reach out and touch the dome of St Paul's. I sat on the balcony and looked across at the city and thought about how much of my life was bound up in the place. My eyes flicked around and I associated memories with buildings and places. Blackfriars and the amazingly ornate art nouveau pub, the Mermaid Theatre and thoughts not of plays but of being in the audience to see the first performance of Metropolis by the Mike Westbrook Concert Band and the joyous noise of a freeish big band.

My gaze then moved back to the BT Tower, a building that from this distance still looks modern after 40 years. I thought about my father who used to work for Post Office Telecommunications (as it then was). Around me were people talking into mobile phones and in his working life he could never have imagined how phones could become not just important but an extension of some peoples bodies.

The age in which he tried to estimate traffic and plan capacity is a world away. He used to tell the story of how he was partially responsible for the Whitgift Shopping Centre in Croydon opening without enough telephone lines. He had surveyed the area on a summers day. The Whitgift School, which had been there since Tudor times, was picturesque and from the playing field he could hear the crack of bat on cricket ball. He thought it was timeless - at most over the next five years they would need 10 extra lines. Shortly after that the school sold its land for redevelopment planning needs were not well enough communicated and there wasn't enough exchange capacity.

I then looked down at the riverside and people strolling in the sun, enjoying themselves. There were some kids on skateboards and also a few runners. Looking at those runners in an area rich in personal associations I remembered why I write this blog - I want to talk about the engagement through physical activity with landscape through and with the imagination.

So feeling suitably pretentious I had better start posting again!