Calling It Quits on Guilty Pleasures
Calling It Quits on Guilty Pleasures
or maybe just on the guilt...
I've been thinking about the concept of guilty pleasures. A reader recently mentioned she was enjoying a series of novels and called them a "guilty pleasure". Sorry, I can't find the comment, and I don't remember which series it was. Maybe the Jack Reacher novels? Anyway, it was a series I also enjoy. But I've never felt guilty about finding pleasure in reading those books. Or any books, really. Except maybe Anne Rice’s early eroticas.
According to Wikipedia, a guilty pleasure is something, such as a film, a television program, a piece of music, or an activity, that one enjoys despite understanding that it is not generally held in high regard or is seen as unusual or weird.
By this definition, an activity or piece of work becomes a guilty pleasure because of our perception of how it may be judged by others. It's not about our own opinion of the thing. It's based on what we imagine other people's opinion to be.
Why do we choose to define our pleasures by what other people might think? Does the feeling of guilt amplify the pleasure? Does a teenager enjoy an illicit can of beer more than one given to them by a parent? Would extramarital sex be as thrilling if it didn't involve sneaking around?
Let's look at some less extreme examples. Maybe you love to watch The Bachelor or The Real Housewives of Wherever. Perhaps you are one of the millions of readers who devoured the 50 Shades of Gray books, then stood in line for the movies. In my opinion, these TV shows, books, and movies are complete garbage. But why in the world should my opinion matter to you?
We each have a right to enjoy what we enjoy. Assuming we're responsible adults, and indulging our pleasures doesn't cause harm to others, there is no reason to feel guilty. Not everything has to be "good" for us. We do not need to spend every moment engaged in productive activity. If the bills are paid and the kids are fed, why not climb into the tub with a paperback romance novel?
Everybody is weird. Everybody is unusual. Your taste is probably not my taste in all things, and that's as it should be. Let's each claim our pleasures and cast aside any notions of guilt. True, we might be judged. You might look disapprovingly at the Oreos in my grocery cart. I might roll my eyes when you talk about the most recent chapter of the never-ending Star Wars saga. Let's just decide that other people’s opinions don’t matter. Let's enjoy our pleasures guilt-free.
What formerly guilty pleasure are you ready to claim?
Tell me about your guilt-free pleasure in the comments.
I know many of you come here for the knitting, but I have no knitting to show you this week. I've made minimal progress on the cardigan I'm designing, and it's been set aside while I knit a pair of socks. Sadly, I can't show you the socks because they are a commissioned project for a magazine, due to be published in the Fall. I always hate writing that; it feels like a bit of tease. I assure you, that's not my intent. I'd love to show you new knitting every week, but the bills need to be paid.
I can show you some spinning. I started spinning the fiber I bought at WoolTribe's studio sale a couple of weeks ago.
It's superwash Shaniko wool top, and the colors are giving me so much pleasure. I rarely spin superwash wool, and it took a while to adapt my technique. The fiber is slick. This fiber wants to be spun quite fine, with lots of twist. I think it's going to end up as a 3-ply sock-weight yarn.
I read an excellent book this week: We All Want Impossible Things by Catherine Newman.
Ashley is a woman in her 40's, separated from the father of her three nearly-grown daughters. Her best friend since pre-school, Edi, is dying of ovarian cancer. Through Ash's eyes, we see the final month of Edi's life in a hospice center. But this is not a sad novel. There is plenty of laughter as we see Ash stumble through all the feelings. I loved this book's unblinking but always compassionate depiction of the physical realities of dying. This novel is a celebration of deep friendship between women and the way our network of relationships sustains us.
The links for this book go to Bookshop.org, a non-profit that supports independent bookstores. They are affiliate links; if you make a purchase through these links, I will earn a small commission.
I recommend the audiobook version of We All Want Impossible Things. The reader, Jane Oppenheimer, fully inhabits the character of Ash in a gentle, transparent way.
Things that caught my eye
A little over a minute of pure delight:
As always, thank you for inviting me into your world. If you've enjoyed reading, please tell a friend!
Continue the conversation - leave a comment telling me about your formerly-guilty pleasures, or about what you’re knitting.
Guilt is one of those strange words that comes with faint meanderings into the Victorian Age, The Scarlet Letter and other haunting bits of bologna. Yesterday I became aware that there are 3 states here in the US that do not allow pregnant women to file for a divorce. Apparently, she would be found guilty of .... something. Who is to say whether it was a pleasure or not!?!? No mention if said husband can file for a divorce, or whether he enjoyed his guilty pleasure??? But I digress...
I have a very good friend of many years who I greatly respect and appreciate. This said, I would never tell her that I often take naps. She thinks of naps as a falling down of one's rectitude and better self. I on the other hand have found naps to be wonderfully restorative. I take them as needed, so to speak. So, I guess you could say naps are one of my guilty pleasures. 🤗
That be me who mentioned indulging in the "guilty pleasure" of watching the Harry Bosch series while my husband was elsewhere occupied. I never really thought about the phrase until now, after reading your post. So, yeah, as a former English major, I've tended to describe such reading, viewing, and listening as "guilty" pleasures, but ... I'm in such good company :-)
Gosh, I remember how some of my classmates got around that by "analyzing" shows like 30-Something, Seinfeld, and Friends for their term papers (iinsert eye roll emoji).
I don't feel guilty about any of my pleasures anymore. I'm too old to care what other people think, and that feels good.