Today, Liz Scott joins us on the blog, discussing the recent release of her memoir This Never Happened (University of Hell Press, Feb 2019) and how performing from it at her book launch prompted her to reflect on the idea of narcissism. Check it out:
Narcissism: Good or Bad?
My memoir officially launched
a couple of weeks ago at the venerable Powell’s bookstore in Portland, Oregon.
Standing on that podium in front of some 120 people was a mind-blowing
experience so before I could express my gratitude, I needed to admit how
challenging the whole thing was for me. I talked about how I had lived most of
my life trying NOT to be my mother who was a person of bottomless need and an
unquenched desire to be famous—famous as a writer. So there I was, my name on
the marque outside the store, having been on a TV show earlier that day,
interviewed on the radio the day before and standing in front of 120 people who
had come to see me—I was feeling
kinda famous and, to my horror, it felt pretty damn good! To quote my own book,
it was like I was on “…a grease-lined slippery slope straight down to Crazy Town.”
Which brings me to
narcissism. It’s inevitable these days: turn on the news and before long you’ll
hear the word “narcissist.” I’m not going to get on my political soapbox now
and if you know me, you get enough of my ranting anyway. But as people who know
me understand, I have a particular interest in this topic. At a broad level we
are culturally fated to grapple with this personality feature. It’s in the
American DNA. Ours is an individualistic culture where characteristics like
self-reliance, independence, and personal ambition are highly valued. So different
from collectivistic countries like Japan that focus on what’s best for the
community and where unity and selflessness are valued traits. Doesn’t sound
like us, does it. In 1979 Christopher Lasch wrote his famous book, The Culture of Narcissism, and if he
were alive today, I bet he’d be writing a sequel because this personality
feature seems increasingly endemic.
Then again, maybe
it’s just me. I have my eyes peeled for narcissism. As the child of
one—probably two—certifiable DSM-V narcissists, it’s the lens through which I
view the world and I will lift up every rock if I catch a whiff. I’m on the
lookout and I have not reserved that scrutiny for the rest of the world only. I
have relentlessly applied it to myself as well. So there I stood on the podium,
having written a memoir—a book where “I” is the topic so isn’t that prima facie proof that I, too, am a narcissist?
In theory I do believe
that we all have a story to tell; that we are each entitled to
the space we take up on this planet; that each of our voices should be
heard. But the decision to
commit my story to paper and send it out into the world has been fraught. Feeling entitled myself to have a
story worth telling, that my life is worth the ink, feels perilously close to believing that I am extraordinary.
There’s
this old Hasidic tale I heard. When a child is born, the Rabbi says you are to
place one piece of paper in each pocket and carry them with you your whole
life. One reads: The world was made for
you. The other reads: You are but a
speck of dust in the universe. The Rabbi instructs that we are to always
hold these two seemingly contradictory concepts at one time. For those of us
living in reaction to extreme narcissism, it’s easier to believe the speck of
dust part. But that’s its own kind of pathology. In the original Greek myth of
Narcissus he became so enthralled with his reflection in the waters of a lake
that he would not leave for fear of losing sight of his image, ultimately dying
from longing and starvation. But what about the person who cannot even look at
herself at all, cannot bear to see what is reflected back? Maybe someone who
can’t look in the literal mirror in the morning. Or someone who can’t form a realistic
assessment of their abilities. Healthy narcissism is a necessary
characteristic in order to develop authentic self-esteem. Without the confidence that comes with a secure
sense of self and a healthy level of self-regard, how able are we to meet the rigors of any life? It’s vital to recognize and feel gratitude for your gifts and to take pleasure in a job
well
done. Healthy narcissism is knowing you are awesome
(read:okay) without the requirement that others are less awesome. It does not depend on feeling like you are the
center of the universe but on the belief that you, along with every other
being, have a story worth telling and that you are worth the particular and
singular space you take up on this good earth.
Like so many other things, narcissism is on a continuum. The capital N
kind is pathological and, if you can, I suggest you limit your interactions
with these folks as much as possible. But false modesty, marked feelings of
inferiority and an unwillingness to assess one’s strengths and weakness
realistically?—also not so great.
I’m working on it.
Liz Scott has been a practicing psychologist for 40 years,
helping clients to identify life themes and make sense of the puzzle of their
lives. She has brought this focus to her writing in the last fifteen years,
first as a short story writer and most recently in her memoir, This Never Happened. She has been
published in numerous literary journals and served two terms on the board of
Oregon Literary Arts. Originally from New York City, she currently lives and
works in Portland, Oregon. You can find more information at www.liz-scott.com
