In the beautiful Victorian house where I lived while attending college in Montana, I often played and sang loudly miserable songs about disappointment in love, like those from Joni Mitchell’s popular album, “Blue.”
Years later I learned—and this is new in civilization—that there was actually a hope in me to be a disappointed woman. Aesthetic Realism explains with solid logic that there are two kinds of disappointment. Certainly, people have been honestly disappointed; have met tremendous injustice economically and personally. But there’s also a determination in a person, which Aesthetic Realism makes clear, to see the world as a flop, as never coming through for you, so you can be disdainful and superior.
In his lecture, “Mind and Disappointment,” Mr. Siegel describes that drive. “On the one hand,” he says, people complain because they are disappointed:
On the other, to be disappointed is their triumph. If a person finds himself at the movies, he can be disappointed because he is not at home. If he’s at home, he’s disappointed because he’s not at the movies. If he gets a telephone call, he’s disappointed because his solitude is interrupted. If he doesn’t get a phone call, he’s disappointed because no one cares for him. And if he gets a phone call, and it happens to be a short one, he feels people are neglecting him and not talking long enough…Once you are looking for disappointment you can be a super-FBI.
I was one of those. Once, a friend pointed out on a very happy occasion at a restaurant, that I was looking to be disappointed with everything. I acted like a queen as I scornfully and casually mentioned that the food took too long to arrive; when it did, it wasn’t what I expected; and then it was too hot in the place. Though this is ordinary, the determination in a woman day after day to find things to be disappointed about saps the life out of her, and also makes her mean.
The reason we want to be disappointed, I learned, is explained by this Aesthetic Realism principle: “There is a disposition in every person to think [we] will be for [ourselves] by making less of the outside world.” This is contempt, and though having it makes you feel awful, you also have the pleasure of thinking other people are inept and you are the smartest thing going.
There Is Honest Disappointment, but How Do We Use It?
As the first child and only girl in our family, I was made a lot of by my parents and grandparents. While I liked the attention I got about how I looked, I also felt that no one wanted to know what I felt inside, and this made me angry. Sometimes I would hide in my room away from everyone.
There is an honest disappointment children have had, I learned, that who we are and what we feel inside is not known by those close to us. But a girl can also feel victorious keeping herself to herself. Mr. Siegel explained:
The first thing necessary to avoid disappointment is to ask if we’re not going after it….For instance, I have seen people complain about their not being understood by others. I’ve asked, “What have you done to be understood? Have you really tried to show yourself as you are?”…People conceal themselves, and then complain that they are not understood.
I did conceal myself. Though my father called me “sunshine,” most of the time I didn’t feel very sunny inside. I could appear like the all-American girl, but inwardly I made fun of people, and as time went on, I was increasingly sarcastic.
As our family grew larger, I had to help take care of my five younger brothers. Often I wished I were the only child like my friend, Andrea, across the street. I also felt put aside by my parents as they had other children to care for. Mostly, my brothers played together, and instead of joining in with them I remember feeling disdainful and going off by myself. When I did play with them, I would show off and was competitive to get my parent’s attention, especially my father’s.
As a young girl, my father took me to the hardware store every Saturday because he knew I liked learning about tools and how to fix things. One Saturday, when my brother Douglas was old enough, my father took him instead of me. Watching them drive away, I was jealous and angry. I remember hardening myself and acting cool when they came home. This is one example of what became an industry in me— feeling all men were brutes; that they didn’t see me right, and should be punished. My father used to say I had a chip on my shoulder. I hung onto memories for years that justified that case—like the time my father, simply doing his chores, unknowingly mowed over my favorite flower—a tiny buttercup in the middle of the lawn.
Yet this was the same man who spent hours carefully building a doll house for me at Christmas with carpeting, cabinets and a staircase inside, and who spoke about books with such pleasure that encouraged us all to read.
In an Aesthetic Realism class, years later I said I wanted to understand why I had come to be so bitter and disappointed with men. Chairman of Education Ellen Reiss asked me,”Do you think something in you feels that you had such a victory coming to that opinion of the men in your home that you’re not going to just give this up.” And she said, “A woman can feel somewhere if a man doesn’t see her right, she has more evidence for her favorite case, and it’s like a jewel.”
This was true. Ms. Reiss then said there was also something else in me, “that wants to be very sweet, but you don’t see it as strong.” I felt so described by this, and I’m very grateful to for explaining it. I’ve come to see that a woman is strong if she can feel honestly sweet in knowing a man, because she’s not trying to fool and manage him, she’s glad to be affected by him; and I have experienced this first hand in my marriage to Bennett Cooperman, Aesthetic Realism consultant and actor, whom I love very much.
I’ve also been able to study the hope in a woman to be disappointed, which is endemic in marriage. Once, when Bennett did the grocery shopping and came home, as I began to unpack, I saw there were many things I liked. But then, as I found that the nuts were “roasted” instead of “raw,” I had a little rush of irritation. Looking further, I asked, “Oh, are these really Gala apples, because they don’t look like them,” and when Bennett pointed out the touch of scornful glee in my voice, I saw he was right and I was grateful.
This is a minute to minute choice in a woman’s life and I’m continuing to learn about it, including from questions such as these asked of me by Ellen Reiss in a class: “Do you think you feel that the world should serve you and will fail at doing so? Do you think you set up things so you can be disappointed and angry?”
Love and a Disappointed Woman
In his lecture “Mind and Disappointment,” Eli Siegel explained:
I have said to persons, “You will never be loved by anybody until you can love the world from which that person comes. And even if you seem to be successful, you’ll feel disappointment.” The reason is that any person who expects to get what [she] wants from the world without giving the world that beautiful payment which is a desire to know and respect it, will be disappointed. Instead of… seeing the world as a process, it will change into an icebox….; it will be a greedy acquisitive business. Then, at a certain time, even if [one] gets what [one] wants, there will be a feeling of not having it. TRO 786
So often I ended up with that feeling of “not having it.” When I met Luke Tyler in college, I liked his seriousness and liveliness. He was very different from me. He grew up in Texas, cared for science and had traveled a lot.
But as I had with my brothers and father earlier, I wanted a man to make me the most important thing in the world, and was disappointed and hurt when he didn’t. Luke felt I wanted to manage and own him, and once told me he was even worried about giving me a gift, because I would use it to feel I finally “got him.” This was different from what I felt using my mind to study Renaissance painting in my art history classes. I would calculate when to be at the student union, pretending to study, sometimes even cutting a class to do it, waiting for him to walk in. Often I’d wear clinging outfits to get his attention; and when I did have what I saw as the ultimate victory through sex, I felt empty and cheap. In his lecture, Mr. Siegel said:
A woman has had a certain notion of love….She knows that this notion of love does not wholly represent her, but it is.the one thing with which she associates victory…. And every time she wins, she’s disappointed. TRO 788
I would have spent my whole life trying to get a man this way, feeling disappointed and desolate afterwards. Increasingly, Luke and I would fight and then reconcile. In an Aesthetic Realism consultation I was asked, “Do you think you and Mr. Tyler were very warm to each other [but]… that [together] you made less of the outside world?” This was true. And the warmth was really coldness because I didn’t want to know Luke, or encourage his care for other people and things. In fact, I was competitive with his friends.
Aesthetic Realism explains that the purpose of love, which will always satisfy and never disappoint, is to like the world. Having this purpose is a million times greater and more romantic than the cheap victories I went after trying to conquer a man.
When I met Bennett Cooperman, I felt for the first time that a man really wanted to know me and respect my mind. He didn’t just take my surface as the whole picture.
Yet that drive to be disappointed and to prove it was all a mistake was working in me. In a class Ms. Reiss asked me: “Do you think you’d like to be able to slam the phone down on his ear and say: ‘ You’re not worthy of my respect!'” It may be right not to think a person is worthy of respect but it’s never right to hope it.” At one point she asked me humorously as to Bennett, “Has Mr. Cooperman shown himself to be a thorough cad yet?” When I said “no,” she suggested that Bennett say to me: “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of evil left in me!”
I love Bennett’s thoughtfulness and exuberance, tenderness and strength—the way he encourages other people, wants to know them—including the men he teaches in consultations; and for his work in The Aesthetic Realism Theatre Company presenting the historic lectures by Eli Siegel on the drama.
Sarah Josepha Hale Used Disappointment to Have America Better
A woman who used a true disappointment in behalf of the world, to have people seen with more justice, is the American writer and editor, Sarah Josepha Hale, who lived from 1788-1879.
Mrs. Hale was the editor for over 40 years of Godey’s Lady’s Book, the largest and most popular women’s magazine of its time. She was also the author of one of the first novels in America titled, Northwood, about slavery, and Poems for Our Children, which included “Mary’s Lamb” —better known as the song, “Mary Had a Little Lamb”—and many other books including a scholarly work, Woman’s Record, or Sketches of Distinguished Women from the Creation to the Present Day, a copy of which Eli Siegel had in his library.
Sarah Josepha Hale was a force in America. She used the true disappointment many women had about how they were seen in the Victorian era—they were largely deprived of education, economic rights, and equal employment opportunities—to work for changes that are still in effect today. Her biographer writes:
She was the early champion of elementary education for girls equal to that of boys and of higher education for women. She was the first to advocate women as teachers in public schools….she helped organize Vassar College…. She began the fight for the retention of property rights for married women. She founded the first society for the advancement of women’s wages, better working conditions for women and the reduction of child labor.
As a young girl, Sarah Josepha had a large desire to know the world. Her brother Horatio was attending Dartmouth College, and when he came home would teach Sarah what he was learning. Her biographer tells how she was “generous in her gratitude.” Sarah wrote:
To my brother….I owe what knowledge I have of Latin, of the higher branches of mathematics, and of mental philosophy. He often regretted that I could not, like himself, have the privilege of a college education.
At 25, Sarah came to know and marry the young lawyer, David Hale, with whom she had five children. I believe he encouraged her mind and life very much. She describes how, soon after their marriage “We commenced…a system of study and reading.” And:
The hours allotted were from eight o’clock until ten…How I enjoyed those hours! In this manner we studied French, Botany…obtained some knowledge of Mineralogy, Geology…In all our mental pursuits, it seemed the aim of my husband to enlighten my reason, strengthen my judgment, and give me confidence in my own powers of mind, which he estimated more highly than I did.
Here we see a woman glad to be grateful for the good affect of a man—not looking to be disappointed.
Early in her marriage, Sarah Hale was diagnosed with what was called quick consumption, for which there was no cure. Ruth Finely describes how Mrs. Hale accepted her fate, but David Hale would have none of it. He had done research on the good effects of grapes on her illness. It was Fall and he took her up to the mountains where the grapes were ripe, and they traveled for six weeks. “It was beautiful weather,” Mrs. Hale recalled, and “I ate grapes.” Ruth Finley writes how Mrs. Hale said that David:
Also…had a theory that fresh air ought to be good for sick lungs….[When] we stopped at the doctor’s house on the way out of town…he vowed David would never bring me home alive. But David did bring me home, cured.”
Tragically, after only seven years of marriage Sarah Hale’s husband died suddenly, leaving her penniless and with 5 young children to support. But she did not use this to hate the world. She moved her family to Boston so she could work and provide for her children. It was at this time that she began her literary career and important work to have other women’s lives better. In a lecture, “Mind and Emptiness” Eli Siegel said:
A tragedy occurs and the self is shocked. For a while nothing has meaning. If there is a largeness of mind in the woman to whom the tragedy occurs, she won’t resent other people,…though she’ll be sad, she will feel…a sense of kinship between herself and all other people.
When Sarah Hale saw the poverty that wives and families of working sailors endured in Boston, she founded the first Seaman’s Aid Society. She wrote passionately:
The lot of the sailor’s wife is of extreme hardship. The highest wages, which at the best of times a common seaman can obtain, is eighteen dollars a month—often he is obliged to accept ten or twelve dollars….
This left the sailor’s family only enough money to “pay the rent and buy fuel” and forced his wife to support herself and their children at “grinding wages.”
Mrs. Hale opened a store where the wives of the sailors could work for good wages and sell the clothing they made from their own hands to the public. She established the first day nurseries where women could leave their children while they worked. The store was a huge success.
During Sarah Hale’s over 40 year editorship, Ruth Finley tells how Godey’s Ladies Magazine:
Dared to criticize conditions theretofore unquestioned, and then crusaded against them. It suggested reforms, and then organized committees to actuate them. It…”publicized” the inequalities and injustices suffered by women…
Sarah Hale encouraged Elizabeth Blackwell, the first woman doctor, and other women to study medicine. She stood up for Dr. William T.G. Morton’s discovery of anesthesia when he was attacked vehemently by his rivals and religious leaders, Ruth Finley writes how “she devoted pages of Godey’s to his defense.”
In an editorial in 1853, Sarah Hale invited inventors to make machines that would make life easier for American women. One result was the first washing machine. She published works by important writers of the day, including Edgar Allen Poe, and wrote articles encouraging better health and sanitation.
Meanwhile, a large matter in Sarah Josepha Hale’s life was how she saw the American Civil War, which took place during her editorship of Godey’s. Here, I believe, she made a large mistake which hurt her life. Louis Godey, the publisher, had a “no politics” policy, and the magazine at the height of its success was silent during one of the most important times in our nation. Her biographer tells how Mrs. Hale, having been born shortly after the American Revolution, had an enormous fear that her “beloved Union” might be dissolved. Though she was against slavery, she wrote about:
The great error of those who would sever the Union, rather than see a slave within its borders….
One can ask, “Was there something too soft in her against evil—the desire in people to have a war so they could continue to own human beings and use them for profit?” There are hints that she thought the abolitionists were too intense. She said of her novel “Northwood” that it “was written when what is now known as “Abolitionism first began to disturb seriously the harmony between the South and the North.” And Ruth Finley describes how she republished the book to counteract “the inflammatory influences of Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”
How much did she feel that justice was worth fighting for, that there could be a beautiful fight? When she and the magazine chose to be silent, Ms. Finley writes, “it was no longer the arbiter of the nation’s parlors,” and it “never again…caught up with the times.” Was Mrs. Hale deeply and rightly disappointed in herself?
Still, because of her important work, Sarah Hale was cared for by persons of her time who cared for justice, notably Charles Dickens. I’m very grateful that in our time, through the education of Aesthetic Realism, the drive in a woman to be disappointed can at last be criticized and change into an honest desire to know, an honest desire to find the world likeable, deeply satisfying. This is good will, the desire to “have something else stronger and more beautiful, for this desire makes oneself stronger and more beautiful.” That desire, truly had, will never fail one, never disappoint.