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| "The Most Interesting Man in the World" |
The book calls itself "The Modern Man's Guide to Chivalry", and attempts to assemble a general model of the perfect chivalrous man. The Compleat Gentleman, says Miner, is sophisticated and brave, personifying the virtues of the Warrior, the Lover, and the Monk, and is rich in sprezzatura, that is, gentlemanly grace and restraint.
On the whole, I found the book to be extensively flawed. For all Miner's lip-service to an apolitical ideal, his idea of chivalry is inextricably bound up with his strongly conservative political views. Miner is adamant that a gentleman's honor is worth fighting and dying for, but he never bothers to explain what honor means to him. Worst of all, while the book makes clear that the modern gentleman "has a newer and more realistic view of women" than his historical predecessors, Miner never once considers the possibility that a woman might fulfill his ideals as well as a man.
All that said, the book did give me a few things to think about.
Miner is a student of Goju Ryu karate, and what he writes about karate in his book leads me to believe that he is, like me, a relative newcomer who didn't begin his martial arts journey until adulthood. Nonetheless, the martial arts are important to his model of the perfect gentleman:
Life is a martial art. It is anyway if you do it right. As the Stoics of ancient Rome used to say: Vivere militare! How can our modern knight protect the innocent and punish the guilty unless, along with his courage and honor, he has prowess?Let's put aside for now the question of whose duty it really is to "punish the guilty", and also the question of whether or not Miner's karate or my aikido amount to real prowess. What interests me most is Miner's idea that prowess is a key ingredient of the true gentleman.
Does a gentleman need martial training? And if he does, does our martial training, therefore, bring us closer to being gentlemen?
Many of us like to think so. We like stories of the Celtic warrior-poet, the samurai philosopher, the rapier-wielding Renaissance man, and (if we are taekwondo players) the ancient Korean hwarang youth, each a sophisticated man educated in the various arts of peace but trained and ready for combat.
I'm a musician--a damn good one if I do say so myself--so I like to think I have the "poet" half of the warrior-poet equation down pretty well already. With some more martial arts training, could I join the ranks of history's great gentlemen?
I am reminded of the popular series of Dos Equis beer commercials featuring "The Most Interesting Man in the World". The character would perhaps not satisfy all of Miner's gentlemanly criteria (not enough of a monk, I think), but he does in many ways embody the popular ideal of the gentleman, that is, a man who is sophisticated and cool without being weak. He rescues trapped animals, he woos women, and he plays at politics, but he is equally at home arm-wrestling or wielding a shinai in a kendo match. The commercials' narrator says of him, "He could disarm you with his looks... or his hands, either way," and, "He's a lover, not a fighter, but he's also a fighter, so don't get any ideas."
Be honest: what guy doesn't want to be that guy?
Much as I often criticize romanticism in the martial arts, I must confess this image appeals to me a great deal. I didn't start my martial arts training with the single-minded goal of becoming a great martial arts master; I wanted to add one more piece to myself, a piece that would make me a more complete human being, a more "interesting" man.
I have written before on how I feel my training has prepared me to face life's challenges with a little more grace. And, stylized as my aikido may be, I suspect I am a little readier for a physical confrontation than I was before, too. Both of these, Miner and the Most Interesting Man in the World seem to agree, are key ingredients of the gentleman. Is it such a bad thing, then, to pursue this romantic ideal in the dojo? I am starting to think not.
Of course, we must pursue this ideal outside the dojo, too. Miner's Compleat Gentleman and the Most Interesting Man in the World are not just fighters. They are jacks-of-all-trades, well-traveled and broadly educated.
I keep saying that I want to make a deeper study of Buddhism, that I want to learn to speak Spanish, that I want to improve my cooking, and that I want to be more diligent in the gym. If I am to be the perfect gentleman, I'm going to need all these things, and I'm going to need to fit them in around working, being a husband, and raising a daughter. It's not for no reason that Don Quixote calls it "the impossible dream".
But even if it is impossible (and, skeptic that I am, I'm pretty sure it is), I think it might be a worthwhile pursuit. And I think my time in the dojo can help.
In my recent, intentional, refocus on my training, I have discovered there is an awakening that happens after each time my skills are challeneged and my abilities pushed to their limits, but only if you let it happen.
ReplyDeleteBefore this, I would dread attending sparring classes that certain higher ranks students would attend and after the matches that I would inevitably have with them, I would be bitter with my poor performance and angry that I was not given a challenge that was "on my level." This was a very ungentlemanly outlook. I was not willing to honor the skills in my sparring partner, nor realize the test that I had undergone.
Since this discovery, I can see the test for what it is, a demonstration and affirmation of my skills and abilites at that point in time, but also a realization of where I need to improve. In this I am taking in my entire self, both positive and negative, and understanding myself better.
I would put this forth as the cornerstone of what it means to be a gentleman: accepting both strength and weakness within one's self. The "Most Interesting Man in the World" is a wonderful fiction, but the lack of weakness in the character makes him hollow, leaves him with nothing to do, nothing to grow into. This is also the core fiction in what it apears Miner is putting forth as the "classical gentleman" and what our American culture puts forth as well: man as monad, the totality of all beings. Simply put, a gentleman is supposed to be able to do everything and be everything. This implies a glossing over, or disguising of weakness.
When you describe the idea of the warrior-poet, the first thing that jumps to mind is the David from the Hebrew Scriptures. He was a martial champion, poet, and religious man. He was strong, yet able to understand his weaknesses and found ways to express them so as to not let them become a consuming fear.
This honest self image is integral to letting go of pretension that leads to immature actions and ungentlemanly behavior. Accepting one's own needs for growth leads towards honest and genuine interactions, which are also the halmark of gentlemanly behavior.
Now, is martial arts key to this? It is working for me, but there are other avenues to take. Yet, every true martial artist that I have encountered, this holds true.