Lessons from Childhood

I never liked The Giving Tree as a kid. I thought it taught a pretty horrible lesson: take joy in being exploited by some ungrateful douche--after he's taken you for all you're worth, he may come back and expect you to support him in old age. Great. Thanks.

That's not to suggest I dislike Shel Silverstein. I'm quite fond of much of his poetry--Uncle Shelby's ABZ Book is a personal favourite. But I've always been baffled as to why Giving Tree deserves so many honours and accolades for being such a good book for children. I never felt sorry for the tree. Perhaps I was supposed to, I don't know, but I always saw it bad taste in men coupled with a masochistic streak. The female does everything she can for the male in the hopes that he'll recognise her effort and love her for it, but he always just takes what she offers as a given and raises his expectations. And then he goes off with another woman. And she is happy.

The lesson I gained from this story is, "don't give people anything. They won't appreciate it, they'll come to expect you to provide for them, and they will offer you nothing in return." I mean hell, the tree probably got a few greenfly infestations over the years that her sweet little boy could have sprayed for. What if she'd caught a nasty rootworm? There are plenty of ways to give back to a tree, but her darling child didn't even come around to prune that itchy dead branch. But no, "the tree was happy." Being taken for a sucker. Even when the boy was young he used her selfishly, eating her apples (how can you build a house out of apple boughs?) glorifying himself with her leaves, expecting her to make everything safe and comfortable for him. While many parents of course are happy to provide for children and only want love in return, there's a damn limit.

The Boy screws up. He makes some really bad decisions--from what I can infer from his desire for "a boat that will take me far away from here." he is not welcome in his community any longer. He has ruined his relationship with his wife and children. Maybe he made some dodgy investments or was caught cheating. So he comes back to the mother-figure to bail him out. "Hi Ma, I know we haven't spoken in a while, I'm not doin so good. I need you to give me some money so I can get outta dodge. I'm gonna have to lie low for a while, if the cops come to the door, you never saw me. Love ya." He's a fifty year old man! What the hell is he doing? Who does he think he is?

If the Tree had some self-respect she'd say no. No, you're an adult. If you want me to secure a loan for you you better be prepared with some collateral, 'cos I'm not risking my credit just so you can go on another bender with no consequences. I am not an accessory to your destruction, and I happened to like your wife and what you did to her and your kids was rotten. In fact, no, I will not secure a loan for you, you're too likely to default.

I assume that's the metaphor.

And then he high-tails it to St. Somewhere, fishes the pilings and drinks his green label each day for another twenty years. And we're supposed to in some way identify with him when he discovers the cost of repatriation of remains and decides to get to the burial plot he purchased with his ex-wife when they were planning for retirement before he dies? He gets back and lo and behold, his mother or ex-wife is still there, in her nineties but holding onto her own home with a combination of social security (which he hasn't paid into since he opened that offshore account that would eventually cause him to flee the country) and her own small IRA. And he moves back into her house and continues to mooch off of her, and via her the state to which he owes thirty years of back taxes!

What a Terrible Story.

I think this book should be read to women considering IVF treatments, perhaps with a discussion session afterwards. Are you Sure you want a kid this badly? I mean, they're shitheads.

Child-rearing requires a selflessness that I will never understand. While I'm grateful to my parents for raising me, sending me to school, feeding me, and doting on me as appropriate, I don't have it in me to do the same for anyone else. I mean, what's in it for parents? After twenty years, congratulations, you've made another taxpayer.

When you get a cat, you know from the outset that they're a species of selfish little bastards, they'll always be selfish little bastards, and they don't give a hoot about you. They let you pet them if they associate that with being fed. They'll sit in your lap, not because they like you, but because it's warm. You know this, but you get one anyway because they're fluffy and cute. You don't expect them to eventually come to appreciate you, or take care of you. But with kids it seems to be different. You give them everything you can, they take it without question, and after a while they leave you with nothing but debt so they can go do the same for their own brats, so they can too find themselves giving their all for no reward. And for some reason, that's what you Want them to do. Silly genetic imperative.

This book does not provide any helpful insights or suggestions for improvement that may one day help a child or grown-up. It is simply a reflection on how assholes take advantage of others, and how other people convince themselves they deserve to be taken advantage of. It's a very common and very shit relationship that serves as the cornerstone of the modern psychotherapeutic industry.