'The narcissism of minor differences'

I mentioned a certain Cornish sex memoirist in my previous post, and it just so happens that Mr Sean Thomas randomly namechecked me earlier this evening in a comment that rehearsed a very familiar Brit Nat delusion...

"...more importantly, the phrase “narcissism of minor differences” is entirely Freud’s, not mine.
 
He used it, IIRC, to describe the piffling disagreements and differences between small, middle European statelets which got blown up into massive nationalistic struggles, and led to World War 1 etc.

It is brilliantly descriptive, I feel, of the attitudes of Scot Nats to England. 

Note how Nits always go on about how Scotland (genetically, linguistically and culturally almost identical to England) is always so much better because of some tiny alleged superiority in the Scottish legal system, or the special way they teach maths in Fife as compared to Surrey, or the uniquely humane size of shepherds crooks in the Highlands, or whatever.

The narcissism of minor differences. James Kelly and Stuart Dickson are living examples. Another reason to reinstate Stuart: comedy value."

I'm not sure this is hugely relevant to my nationalist views, but I can recall as a teenager travelling to the south of England for only the second or third time in my life, and being struck by just how startlingly alien it all felt.  Not in any sense in a bad way - I walked around the town centre of High Wycombe and suddenly became aware that I felt ten times more relaxed than I normally would at home, or indeed anywhere in the northernmost two-thirds of the UK.  There wasn't the familiar sense of people keeping a semi-suspicious eye on everyone around them - young men were strutting about like peacocks, and shoppers were shouting their personal affairs at the top of their voices as if no-one else existed.  The sense of humour was utterly unrecognisable as well.

Perhaps the reason it came as such a shock was the fiction of British cultural homogeneity that the 'national' media constantly peddle - the expectation must have crept into my subconscious at some stage.  I now tend to think that the logic for Britain as a 'natural country' crumbles if you simply visit London, then visit Dublin, and subsequently ask yourself a few quick questions.  Which felt culturally closer to home?  And yet which is supposedly 'our' capital, and which is the 'foreign' city?

For the avoidance of doubt, though, I think it may just about be possible for us to be aware of these differences from other countries without it actually triggering World War Three.  Tricky, but Sweden, Peru and New Zealand all seem to manage it somehow...

Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest

Dannii Bare explained

Dannii Minogue will reportedly reveal on Saturday night that the reason she posed nude for a photo-shoot more than a decade ago was that she needed the fee to pay off her £150,000 debts. Her father apparently begged her not to go through with it, saying "doing this is forever - you can never, ever change it". But as it turned out, it's difficult to see that she suffered any long-term cost at all - if I recall correctly, she was even allowed to continue presenting children's programmes afterwards (Janet Ellis must have been...well, bemused). In fact, I think many people would be quite envious that someone had even a theoretical option (however uncomfortable) to get a quick, clean break from such an unimaginable mountain of debt. The only time I've ever been offered anything to take my clothes off was a couple of months ago by this part-time novelist, part-time total nutter. Unfortunately the reward on offer was merely the chance to win back 'five English pounds' from a (in retrospect slightly tasteless) bet that he and others had browbeaten me into accepting. So I wasn't exactly tempted.

It wasn't all bad news, though. You'll probably have noticed the slightly disturbing pose of the aforementioned novelist/nutter in the photo linked to above. Before accepting his original bet, I had challenged him to provide photographic evidence that he was actually good for this 'five English pounds' he claimed to be in possession of. But as you can see, he appears to see no distinction whatsoever between Thai and English currency. So I realised he wouldn't have the slightest objection if I chose to settle the bet by, say, stuffing a load of Croatian kunas into an envelope and sending it off to him. Oh, and a single US dollar bill that I'd had pointlessly lying around the house for years and years and years. Yes, all in all losing that bet was a small but very real blow against the scourge of clutter.

Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest