I think it’s called “cognitive dissonance”. I seem to run into it a lot, both in my reading experiences and in my live and/or virtual encounters with real people.

The kind of dissonance where you ask yourself: is there even any point in commenting  because – hell, who even wants to know anymore? All rotten, all perverse, all criminal, all…gimme a break! Enough with your wars and migrants, and poverty and – just leave me alone!

***

I pause to turn some eggplant in the pan. Not to worry, I can still afford to buy my own food, but that eggplant was still perfectly edible, as were the mandarins and oranges outside the shelter (more about it some other time). This food find would be neither here nor there had I not come across a post about… I forget the name. Maybe it’s meant as satire. It’s a little gizmo in which you introduce a stick of butter. In no time flat, the butter melts and you can spritz it on your popcorn, or toast (no more torn toast!). It costs 129$ (whether Canadian or American, I can’t say.) All I know: cognitive dissonance flashed by. But then, I’d just seen a headline about the butter scene in Last Tango in Paris, and…no, forget it.)

***

What else? Let’s just stick to the literary world for the time being. Cognitive dissonance packed another wallop after I’d put down a novel by Louise Erdrich and some writing by Asli Erdogan and picked up a best-selling novel. In it, the killings happen for their entertainment value. OK. But Will He Love Her or Will She Die First didn’t keep me fascinated. I read on in order to understand more about a parallel universe in which people might buy a butter spritzer because what’s a kitchen without the latest gadget while you angst over Bridget or was it Shirley – knowing full well neither Bridget nor Shirley exist in real life.

It’s the kind of reading that works because it targets many, many people’s expectations. Ergo, many many people buy the book. I bought it. At least now I know what many many people expect. They wouldn’t like my writing, that’s a given.  They probably wouldn’t care much for  even better writing such as that of Louise Erdrich and, certainly, they wouldn’t want to read Asli Erdogan.Cognitive dissonance, yes, that’s what they’d experience, I suppose. Works both ways, doesn’t it?

Free Asli Erdogan (she’s not doing too well, by the way. Can’t see a doctor, not allowed to send any writing out, not allowed to meet with her lawyer in private. Contacts with family and friends, curtailed. You ask me, I don’t think she gives a damn about butter spritzers.)