For me, it was frequent and open from around 1963 to the early 70s. These were also the coming of age years for the early half of the baby boomers, when generational lines were sharply drawn with memes like “Don’t Trust Anyone Over Thirty.”
Still, not everyone born between 1946 and 1965 wore that button. Some baby boomers took LSD, some became cheerleaders. Probably some did both.
The 1960s in the US and Western Europe had a
lot in common
with the 1860s in Russia. The big deal
then was emancipating the serfs and adjusting to completely new social
relations. The liberals of the time were the educated gentry who tried
to get with
the program. Conservatives felt the new
ways were an affront to everything sacred.
These
reactions to major cultural change are dramatized in
“Fathers and
Sons,” the great Russian novel, published in 1862.
I’m reading “Fathers and Sons” because I’m
about to go on a
moderately challenging adventure with my son. We’re
going to India and most of my pre-travel reading has
been about …
India. It’ll be the main character in
the story, no question.
But the
father-son journey part is going to be a factor. It’ll
influence the experience deeply for
both of us. So I wanted to put some
attention there too and I thought Turgenev might get my juices flowing. He did.
It’s a common narrative, but it’s not the story of “Fathers and Sons,” in which both fathers are liberals and both of them appreciate their sons, even when they become free-thinking Nihilists and challenge their beliefs.
The other son doesn’t. It feels partly random why things work out for one son and not the other, but not entirely. What brings the other son down, clearly, is his own carelessness. Maybe that is a trait inextricably linked to free thinking. It shouldn’t be.
Both sons tend to assume that their more
up-to-date styles
and perspectives are also more advanced. My
son does too. I’m glad he
feels that way. There is no reason for
me to feel threatened by this. The
fathers in “Fathers and Sons” don’t.
They are a little intimidated by their sons,
though – they’re afraid of
being in the way, of disturbing their work or concentration or
equanimity
somehow. Fathers don’t want to upset
their sons in “Fathers and Sons.” I
don’t either. But I also don’t want to
go tip-toeing around on eggshells like these fathers seem to.
Just being a father and son traveling together to a faraway place with spiritual vibes like India won’t just affect how both of us experience India minute by minute -- it will also affect how people, Indian and non-Indian, experience us.
People like the idea
when it comes up; it has
kind of a classic feel to it, like there must have been some famous
book about
a father and son going to India and having adventures, (I haven’t found
one
although I’m sure some must exist). Some
people are quite moved by the idea.
That’s also one reason “Fathers and Sons”
has endured. The topic is ancient and it
will never grow
old. The dynamics are complicated and
worth understanding for fathers, sons, and anyone closely related to
one or the
other.
I’m still learning as
I’m writing
this piece and working on Turgenev’s insight about appreciative fathers
treading carefully around sons. He saw
how vulnerable his fathers would be, and I feel that way too.
Traveling by definition is outside the
comfort zone. Traveling to India is probably all the way to the
dis-comfort
zone. Unexpected things will occur and
we will react to them and to each other in unexpected ways. “Careful” won’t always be part of it.
While I’m prepared to have my tip-toes
stepped on, I don’t
think that conflict – small, medium, or large – will be the main
feature of the
father-son landscape and Turgenev didn’t either. We
will be much stronger together and we will
naturally behave in ways that support our togetherness most of the time. I think we’ll actually be good at it because
we’re unusually well-tuned to each other.
When I was just a son, I saw my
future self as a father who would do
things like go to India with his son. That
should be enough time to prepare.