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Being stuck is never a good thing. Whether it's in the snow or in the mud, being stuck is a situation in which movement is prohibited, or even denied. The word intransigent depicts that kind of being stuck which is even more dramatic than having one's car get stuck. Intransigent means getting stuck in the mind. It's a state of mind which gets translated into a method of operation, commonly referred to in police jargon as M.O.
An intransigent person is one who is paralyzed by the belief that a concept has been decided upon, is incapable of being changed, and will not be forfeited at any cost. No matter how illogical or unreasonable the decision is, it is not open to compromise. There is no wiggle room and dialogue is nearly impossible.
While government may seem like the most logical locus for an example of intransigence it is not the only one...and may not be the best. Political intransigence is so loaded with emotional overtones that utilizing it for example hinders the capability of exploration.
Rather, let's use food as our example. Children demonstrate intransigence at an early age. Even an infant will refuse a spoonful of spinach, even without having had a prior experience with it. Not only is this frustrating to the parent attempting to provide a balanced diet for a baby, but the very fact that it happens is a mystery. Is it the color of the food, the smell of it, or a genetic predisposition to rejection of green vegetables? After a long night of colic it hardly matters. To the fatigued parent, the rejection of the spoon is comparable to another Mid-east Peace Treaty being rejected.
Babies can't verbalize their reasons for intransigence about spinach, and the parent has to develop patience or cunning to overcome it.
But what frustrates me even more is an adult who demonstrates gastronomic intransigence. (That's a great term which I think I have just invented.) The unwillingness to try a new food, or the stubborn refusal to allow it to be placed on a dinner plate is something that really tries my patience. In this case, it can be discussed, but the discussion frequently breaks down at the words, "I just don't want to try it!" End of discussion.
Adults do not have the right to intransigence which is not debatable. That is my own maxim, not one decreed by any law or canon. There has to be a reason for refusal to try brussels sprouts. Is it the color? The smell? The texture? Was there an earlier brussels sprouts incident? Did someone else's negative opinion get translated into your list of unacceptables?
I grew up in a house where there was one entree. (We didn't even know the meaning of that word.) If roasted chicken was the main dish, everyone ate roasted chicken. If the side dishes included brussels sprouts, everyone ate brussels sprouts. There was no alternate provided, and, given a household which was governed by survivors of the Great Depression, food was not wasted.
Consequently, my historical repertoire of foods is far more extensive than that of some people I know. My willingness to try foods I've never eaten is more flexible, for the most part. There are exceptions, but I like to think that there is a logical reason for being on the list of exceptions. After all, I'm not intransigent about such things.
Or...am I? I really dislike some foods, such as Nutella. In my defense, I have to say that I have tried it. But I'm somewhat a purist when it comes to foods, and the addition of hazelnut to chocolate doesn't turn me on.
When we lived in Australia we were introduced to a wheat germ spread called Vegemite, which Aussies use like peanut butter. In this case, I can tell you the reasons for rejecting it. It stinks. The smell is enough to cause a gastronomic disaster. And it tastes awful. Like medicine. I did try it, but I have no desire to repeat the experiment. So there exists a list of foods about which I have become intransigent. I like to think that my willingness to have tried them counts for something, but my response is inflexible and without an option for dialogue.
I guess we all have our likes and dislikes...some more dramatic than others.
i just LOVE this, as it expands your (thus my) repertoire ... of words, of purpose, of considering the whys and hows of food dislikes (oops, gastronomic intransigence). Your Vegemite is my tomato juice. I just can't do it, and the intransigence indeed extends from childhood. In nursery school, we had juice time. And we had to try it. And one day each week was tomato juice. And I always GAGGED on it. And I gag to this day. I find it nauseating (to use a prior penultimate word) ... and that really DOES make me think about other forms and implications of intransigence.
ReplyDeleteIf my childhood kitchen were a restaurant, it's likely my mother would have called it Gastronomic Intransigence--hers and ours. If we didn't try the string beans, we had to sit there until bedtime, and then were served them again at the breakfast table, where we sat until school if we didn't try them yet again. I have three sisters--the four of us sat and sat, through dinners and breakfasts. No one one either side of the battle would budge. (Until I finally learned the fine art of masticating and subtly regurgitating into a napkin, of course.)
ReplyDeleteI loved this post--all except the unkind words about Nutella.