A magnet for bad luck | Alain de Botton attempts to console me

At the minute I'm reading Alain de Botton's The Consolations of Philosophy.  Its one of the many books that was on my reading list at Uni that I never got round to reading.  It's a pretty interesting book, although it's received a lot of criticism for its simplistic glossing-over of the thoughts and teachings of the 6 major philosophers - Virginia Vitzthum refers to the book as: 'de Botton's boiling down of the impassioned struggles of these six thinkers into "Chicken Soup for the Soul."'  While it is rather simple to understand and easy to read, de Botton never was claiming to be writing a profound and in-depth thesis exploring the classic teachings of Socrates and Epicurus - this has already been done.  Instead, The Consolations of Philosophy is merely a humorous application of certain philosophies to modern day tribulations and trivialities.

One chapter that caught my attention was 'Consolations for Frustration'. In this chapter, de Botton comically addresses everyday frustrations that we all allow to wind us up.  These fall into two categories: inanimate objects and animate objects.  Inanimate objects, such as a pencil rolling off a table repeatedly, traffic jams and toe stubbing – the amount of times I've found myself angrily remonstrating a kitchen drawer for trapping my finger.  Animate objects meaning the blame that we place on other people without them being aware that they're annoying us; like my neighbour who plays his music really loudly at 8 o'clock on a Saturday morning.  Cheers for that.

  It is pretty amusing, when you consider it, how much we place blame on inanimate objects in our everyday lives.  Is it a refusal to acknowledge responsibility, failure? de Botton raises an interesting theory in response to the question posed: he suggests that without frustration, one would not endeavour to improve upon a fault – be it with oneself or with the inanimate object at hand.  If something is bothering us the only way to overcome it is to do something about it I guess, since if we were more tolerable and passive we would lack the drive and ambition to develop ourselves and our surroundings.

This is just a sweeping assumption but maybe the human species would never have evolved so quickly if we hadn't been so frustrated about certain things.  We got sick of being cold and eating uncooked food so we made fire, carrying heavy loads, long distances so we made the wheel and the most important frustration that keeps the human race going - jealousy - which leads to the all important process of reproduction. Think about it, if we were ambivalent in terms of reproduction, there would be no ‘survival of the fittest’ and human existence in the 21^st century most definitely would not be in existence – at least not the way we know it. 

Reading this chapter made me think about the stupid things I do daily, and there are a lot of them.  I am categorically the clumsiest person on this entire planet. I could write a regular post about the dumb shit that I do, the completely ridiculous accidents, breakages and losses that surround my existence.

• There was the time I lost my favourite pair of sunglasses, the pair I had managed to take backpacking around the world with me, only to replace them, only to lose them a few weeks later.  I replaced these sunglasses again and then within this last week I was walking in Cornwall and realised my handbag was open and, yes, the glasses were gone.  Thankfully, after carefully retracing my steps, I miraculously found the beauty's.

• Or, the time I passed my driving test and within two weeks my little car got written off by an articulated lorry.

• The time my second car got written off, by my mum reversing into it - the evidence is still on her boot.

• The time my third car got written off, this time actually by me, because I was looking in a shop window.

• The time I reversed into a classic VW Beetle just weeks after starting a new job - great first impressions.

• Or how every single time I go out, I'll pour that first drink down my dress because I can't seem to remember not to tip the glass before it's reached my mouth! Honest to God it's a given, like the probability that buttered toast will almost always land butter side down.

• The time I sat on my brand new, silver, Yamaha flute and bent it in half!

• And then there was the time I broke my foot wearing a pair of brand new heels before a night out, and still proceeded to go out forcing my broken metatarsal into the cursed stilettos - which still sit unworn in my wardrobe to this day.  I had to wear a lovely boot for two-and-a-half months. 

• Oh and I just had a great morning at an interview last week, but Karma can't let me have too much happiness at once and I punctured the car tire whilst parking. Yey!

Don't even get me started on my waitressing days.  Many drinks were spilt on small children.  I made a lot of tips on sympathy alone - 'that poor girl, must be her first day.' No, I've been here for three years now.

I blame my gracelessness on my feet on the fact that I'm 5ft 10 and have size 5 feet.  I'm not really sure how this came about as all of the women in my family are rocking size 8's.

The worst part about being so clumsy is when other people get annoyed at my ineptness.  Your disappointment in my inability to walk without tripping over is not as great as mine, I assure you.  Although I can forgive a rather irksome parent for their anguish over their coke-sodden daughter on her birthday - true story.

 But, over the years, no matter how much I try to take care when I'm walking in 6 inch stilettos, or pay more attention when driving through traffic, or try to take better care of my belongings, frustration has not been a tool that has proven to aid in my succession of myself and the inanimate objects that seemingly plague me.  I am the frustrating animate object!  If I was to continue to get frustrated every time I stubbed my toe (which I'm pretty sure has been broken several times now) I would have had a nervous breakdown by now.  I've come close; I have freaked out big time over certain things just because of the sheer ridiculousness of my luck, but it doesn't seem to get me anywhere - I'll do it again next week no doubt.

Maybe, like the Romans invented roads, I'll invent a scratch resistant paint for cars, a pair of ladder resistant tights or a pair of sunglasses with a tracking device.  Or maybe I won't.  Sorry Alain.

It's an amusing book to read, with general reassurances concerning a number of everyday annoyances and general anxieties and paranoia. But, it does not console my frustrations.