“But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good. Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood.” — The Animals
I recently read a blog post that slammed Amy Chua’s controversial bestseller Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. It’s just part of a growing litany of 
criticism the author is receiving regarding her book about strict Chinese mothers and their children’s academic prowess. Many take it as a tract against American values, others as a recipe for familial implosion. Some even see it as borderline child abuse. Either way, the book has proven polarizing (see the disparity in 5 star and 1 star Amazon reviews below.)
Then last week, I heard a radio interview with Ms. Chua… and my whole perspective changed. She said she was shocked by how divisive the book was becoming, and never intended it to be that way. According to the author, about 70% of readers “get” the book. They laugh. They think. The other thirty percent hate it. Just hate it. And really, there is nothing Amy Chua can do to change that perspective. People either “get” Tiger Mother, or they don’t.
I recently guest posted on another website and, as the comments came in, found myself scratching my head. Did these folks “get” me? I felt they were totally missing my point. It was frustrating and I initially opted just to leave the objections unanswered. Nevertheless, I eventually returned to clarify where I thought I was being misunderstood and what I actually meant.
Which is like explaining a joke — after that, it just ain’t funny.
If you blog or participate in social networking, it’s only a matter of time before someone doesn’t “get” you. They miss your humor. They misinterpret your sarcasm. They draw conclusions you never intended. They charge you with being mean, rude, contentious, profane, or misguided. And you find yourself having to clarify, backtrack, or apologize. You know this feeling, right?
Well, I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t a good thing. Perhaps everyone shouldn’t “get” you, and the more you try to make them, the more you lose something of yourself.
My wife has noted that my older son, Chris, loves my sense of humor. I will say something wry and witty, and no one else in the room will laugh. Except Chris. Question: Is this a bad thing? Sure, maybe I need to work on my timing or evaluate my vocabulary. Or perhaps my humor is too dry or too highbrow. Then again, maybe that’s a special bond that Chris and I have. He “gets” me.
I think the same might be true of our readers. Sure, there is always room to be clearer, more diplomatic, and less snarky. Nevertheless, could it be that the sacred part of friendship, of readership, and fandom, is having others who “get” you?
And others who don’t?
You know, some have built a career around being misunderstood. The legendary director Francois Truffaut said this about a notable contemporary, “Hitchcock loves to be misunderstood, because he has based his whole life around misunderstandings.” It’s true of many successful people, be they commentators, performers, or entrepreneurs — nobody always “gets” them.
Does this bother you? I mean, should everyone always “get” you?
Of course, this isn’t meant as a license for rudeness or cliquishness. I mean, the fact that people don’t “get” you could mean you’re doing something wrong. Maybe your humor is too dry, your intellect is too highbrow, or your communication skills suck. It also could mean you’re just not funny. So, yes, we should seek to be understood. However, the worst thing we could do — especially as a blogger or an author — is to constantly have to explain ourselves and dumb our stuff down. As far as I can tell, people who excel are more about being themselves than constantly apologizing for it.
In fact, if you have to explain yourself to everyone who doesn’t “get” you, they probably still won’t.
I use a lot of sarcasm. I tend to be cynical, pessimistic, and over-think things. I believe in lifting my hands in worship, having a cold beer, laughing, and hugging people. I believe in logic and evidence. I believe that if we stand for nothing, we’ll fall for anything. I am not afraid to speak my mind and believe that sacred cows make great main courses. I hate having enemies, but know I will make some. I use too many adjectives. I believe people die incrementally, and shocking them may save their lives. Some people have stopped reading my blog because of these things.
What can I say?
So I’m thinking that the more we try to make sure everyone “gets” us, the more we lose our uniqueness. If you just be yourself, some people won’t “get” you. Deal with it. Because not being yourself is ultimately worse than being occasionally misunderstood.
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QUESTION: How important do you think it is for a blogger and an author to avoid being misunderstood? Is it tactically better to try to be understood by more people, or cultivate a niche of folks who “get” you? Is there a difference between people “getting” you and understanding you? What percentage of people “get” you?
Wasn’t it the often over quoted C.S. Lewis who said Hell has no sense of humor? Everyone (everything?) there takes themselves way too serious and lacks any sense of proportion or perspective.
Of course there are some people/topics you need to communicate/clarify because they’re important. Of course we all have rough edges that need “abrasion therapy”. Godwin’s Law of Internet Discussions aside for a moment, I’m convinced it’s a waste of good oxygen to run around constantly defending and footnoting yourself. You simply can’t please everyone all the time, and there are a hundred thousand reasons why.
Sometimes it’s not the Transmission that’s faulty; it’s the Reception.
Very good points. I have seen this happen a few times on blogs. Someone is being funny and suddenly they are accused of being “un-christian” and “mean spirited”. One friend had a person misunderstand her funny story and the next thing you knew a whole movement was going against her, sending hateful e-mails and spreading it around the blogsphere that she makes fun of a certain group of special needs children. Not at all what her post was about or what she was insinuating with her humorous story. It kind of scared me how vicious people can be if they disagree with you. How quickly some will attack. But in the end I feel that certain people will take every opportunity they can to be “heard” no matter if they get us or not:)
Boy, do I know what you mean. I might still be blogging if I hadn’t tripped over this one. But what do you do when you offend family members? This is especially a problem if you seek to be funny–sooner or later, you’ll cross the line in someone’s eyes.
I think it is important not to try and change just to please others. As you said, this way leads to losing the characteristics that make you unique. At the same time, it’s important to be able to take constructive criticism well–and have people in your life who are willing to give it to you–because we all have moments when we need to hear it.
Lord knows I’ve offended people without trying. I’ve had to apologize a couple of times for offending certain people even though I knew I had been misunderstood. It wasn’t worth it to explain.
I think you covered this topic perfectly, Mike. Some people do get us, and some simply won’t. We sense when it’s necessary to offer further explanations when the misunderstanding is too extreme, and other times it isn’t worth it because we can tell there is a wall that will not be scaled.
Mark H.’s misunderstanding was quite frankly absurd and uncalled for, but he sacrificed for family peace.
I think it’s important for people to understand me, but it’s a privilege when they actually “get” me. I strive to “get” people even though sometimes I don’t understand them. I know: weird.
I really like this question. Personally, I think it’s best to cultivate the niche… but I admit that’s because I’m not using my blog the same way that a lot of bloggers are. I’m not actively trying to get huge. I get really excited when just one new person subscribes, and I work to build relationships with each new person. I try to “get” them, because I think the first step to them “getting” me is building a trust. That way, when I say something that could be perceived two different ways, they pick the one that gives me the benefit of the doubt because we have a relationship and they trust that I care about them and wouldn’t be a jerk.
I TOTALLY get this! And I celebrate it. I read your blog, Mike, because I know I can come here and leave thinking about something in a new way. I don’t always agree, but it makes me see things from a different perspective. And often times, I leave saying, “AMEN!”
I also think being ourselves can stem from letting go of the fear in our lives – fear of what others think of us, fear of saying the wrong things (whatever that means), and fear of living our own worldview.
And I know that feeling of reading comments left on a blog and realizing some people got the point and some simply didn’t.
I first saw this come through on the twitter feed, and I thought, good God, I hope not everybody gets me. I would hate to be that transparent. But the fact that so many people love and hate Amy Chua’s book probably means she’s a powerful writer. I haven’t read her book. I did read an article she wrote about Tiger moms, and I had to agree with much of what she said. The biggest problem with her consensus of American parenting is that it was not always this way. Before Dr. Spock, American parents had expectations of their children and disciplined them. It was to their advantage to do so. That, of course, is intentionally missing the point of your blog post. 🙂 Even my opinion of her book makes a point, though. Amy Chua is holding on to traditional values in raising children. Traditional values aren’t popular right now, hence the many angry reviewers. If you’re going to write outside the mainstream, you’re just going to have to expect readers to misunderstand you, often intentionally.
Jill, this line is great: “… good God, I hope not everybody gets me. I would hate to be that transparent.” Classic. Thanks for the laugh.
Who said “only the shallow truly know themselves.”?
Almost every ball Aaron Rodgers threw last night could have been caught. Not every one was caught. Bad timing, disrupted routes and, most commonly, simply dropped balls were all things that he couldn’t control.
And that’s with guys who are on his team. A writer is sending information to people of various reception skills who may be on a different team, may be playing baseball or hockey or whist, or may not even realize a game is being played at all.
I’m an avid reader who works hard at understanding an author’s intent. Yet, there isn’t much you can do to convince me that Ernest Hemmingway is something other than an over-rated author of chick lit who unwittingly poisoned fiction trends for decades. There’s nothing the poor guy (or his legions of “getters”) can do to repair my poor reception of him. I’m not going to “get” him.
So what does the undying spirit of Hemmingway do with me?
“My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way.”
Which is to say, probably nothing.
P.S. – I don’t get it. 😉
(Couldn’t agree more about Hemingway’s writing. Although I enjoyed some of his stories, I hated his writing.)
Not “getting” someone or an idea is fertile ground for learning if minds are open.
“Understanding” means you’ve communicated effectively; “getting” is a deeper comprehension or sympathy.
I read that when the Screwtape Letters first appeared in serialized form in a newspaper, at least one minister was so outraged by the ‘insidious and devilish narrative’, he complained to the editor and canceled his subscription.
He understood it but didn’t get it.
Here’s two of the zillions of examples I’ve had in my life of people who just don’t get it. One comes from the book “Bye Bye Bertie” by Rick Dewhurst. Hands down it’s the funniest book I’ve ever read. I absolutely loved it so I gave a few copies away as gifts. Only one friend thought it was funny. The rest didn’t get it. Thought it was silly and senseless. How they could miss it I… just don’t get it.
Secondly, I sent a book called “Fallen: A Novel” by Matthew Raley to a friend of mine that is a Pastor. I thought it was an excellent book and very insightful look into the inner working of the church. However when I asked my friend what he thought about the book he said he stopped reading it because a Deacon in the book thought the Pastor should dress more appropriately. He thought he was too legalistic. What does one say to someone who doesn’t like how a character in a book thinks? I was near speechless. He refused to read it any further at that point I decided he can buy his own books from now on. He just didn’t get it. I’m still scratching my head on that one.
We should also make the distinction between being understood as people and having our writings understood.
As individuals most of us who must function in the real world, Andy Kaufman and Jacqueline Phoenix excluded, generally seek to be understood by our peers, coworkers, family, etc. I could even argue as Christian we have a call to be clear in our intentions.
But as writers, I am not sure we should write to be understood as individuals. Sure we want our work to be understood, to a point, but as the author, is it our desire to be understood through the work?