Literal concerns
"Guido Veloce's" recent analysis of literalists vs. figuratives
[Essay, November]
struck a chord more than somewhat above Middle C. It set me to
remembering the time when children were still in our home. An
incident occurred that fit the pattern described.
My three-year-old daughter was happily crayoning in her coloring
book, using the kitchen table for support. I was a young
assistant professor then, and we could afford only a single table
in the house, and it was time for me to prepare a lecture. Our
house is arranged with a pair of wooden steps down to the
kitchen--which make a nice perch on which to work, if you are
small. So I asked my daughter if she would mind coloring on the
steps. Being a dutiful and agreeable child, she readily agreed.
I began the preparation of my lecture, and looked over to see how
she was doing. I was astonished to see her coloring the steps!
Without realizing what had passed between us, I shouted at her,
"Stop coloring on the steps!"
Between frightened sobs, she managed to say, "Daddy (sob), you
said to color (sob) on the steps (sob)." I then realized that
she was doing just what I had asked her to do. I hugged her and
apologized many times, but 25 years later I still feel bad. And
now I wonder: What damage did I do to her psyche? Maybe she
needed help to correct her impairment that I didn't provide. "Is
she still suffering from it?" I ask myself. Should I offer to pay
for help? I am sure her HMO does not recognize LIS (Literalist
Impairment Syndrome); it is too new. Would such therapy just
reopen old wounds?
A Hopkins professor
Guido responds: What a wonderful child! I would adopt her
in a minute. The professor's letter reminded me of an issue I
should have raised in the column. For some sufferers,
Literalist Impairment Syndrome goes into partial remission
between ages 12 and 18, when phrases like "I cleaned my room" and
"just a minute" become metaphorical.
Since this particular daughter, however, sounds quite normal to
me, my guess is that if she has any affliction, it is the milder
Academic Child Syndrome (ACS). This occurs when one or both
parents are academics. It often manifests in young adulthood in
a bemused attitude toward professors, high levels of achievement
(albeit often intermittent and selective), and an inability to
commit to occupations with high salaries. It is fostered by
prohibitions against TV and junk food, substantial tuition and
orthodontist bills, and, in extreme cases, purchase of a Volvo
station wagon. The only thing academic parents can do, other
than pretend to be normal, is keep in mind two fundamental
principles: a) the kid is all right; and, b) the kid is never
going to earn enough to support us in our old age.
Tell the daughter that she would always be welcome at our house.
I give very specific directions.
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FEBRUARY 1999 TABLE OF CONTENTS.