Oxymorons and Other Contradictions

Some thoughts, a poem draft, and a prompt

I am currently sitting in companionable silence with my friend Amy. We are both writing. We stop to converse once in a while, but we are mostly relaxed, working, and quiet together in each other’s company. When I think about the phrase companionable silence, it makes me wonder who first coined this oxymoron. When I searched online, there was no clear origin but loads of examples of the phrase being used, and a multitude of articles (from Medium to Billy Graham’s website) about its benefits.

A recent workshop with Ajanae Dawkins on Counterhermeneutics (for Sarabande’s Zine Lunch series) discussed the idea of opposition or alternate interpretations as a type of poetics. During the generative time in that workshop, I focused on an oxymoronic phrase that always bothers me, although I have used it: guilty pleasure.

Guilty is defined as one of the following:
1. culpable of or responsible for a specified wrongdoing.
2. justly chargeable with a particular fault or error.
3. conscious of or affected by a feeling of guilt.

Pleasure is defined as 
1. enjoyment or satisfaction derived from what is to one's liking; 
2. gratification; delight.
3. recreation or amusement; diversion; enjoyment
4. a cause or source of enjoyment or delight:
5. sensual gratification.
6. one's will, desire, or choice

These concepts are at odds. If pleasure is found in doing something of one’s liking, then it should not be considered a fault or error. If it is one’s own will or choice that brings delight, then who decides it is wrong? This particular oxymoron is bothersome to me because the “wrongdoing” or the “fault or error” in someone’s pleasure comes from the judgment or disdain of others. In my last few years as a public school teacher in 6th grade, the students who still enjoyed “baby-ish” things like Legos or Pokemon dared not admit that to anyone but their closest friends for fear of reprisals. It’s not cool to say you like a certain band if you know most people dislike them, (see: Nickelback) so listening becomes a “guilty pleasure.” Same with food or movies or television or any other thing upon which the public has rendered a general opinion. Same with activities that you might find completely gratifying but that others may question. Same for not enjoying something others overwhelmingly praise. But guilt for a small joy is not a trade-off anyone should have to make.

I wrote this draft in Ajanae’s workshop, and since it’s not a poem I would send anywhere, I thought would be fun to share here. Enjoy without guilt.

Not Guilty

I used to feel guilty when ordering dessert, as if
I had done something wrong, as if I did not deserve 
this pleasure since my body was not as slim as 

the plate, the knife that sliced it. Now I eat the cake.
I roll down the car window and belt out “Bent” 
by Matchbox 20 with unabashed delight. I hereby

admit that I do not care for Radiohead, Lana Del Rey, 
Halloween, mushrooms, or Mad Men. That I cannot 
dance but most likely will to 80s bands, especially one-hit 

wonders like “You Spin Me Round” by Dead or Alive 
or “Promise” by When in Rome. I just want to live
without fear of disdain. To eat a bowl of Cap’n Crunch 

or some Kraft Mac & Cheese or a Pop Tart, to order
a Diet Coke at a fancy restaurant, to answer pizza when 
someone asks my favorite food, to watch A Knight’s Tale 

everytime it shows up on my television. There is no such 
thing as guilty pleasure, only pleasure. Life is much
too short for any happiness to be seen as regret. 

Prompt:

1. Make a list of your pleasures that you might label as guilty.

2. Option One: Refer to at least three of these in a poem.

3. Option Two: Write a defense of one of these pleasures. (For example, I could write a poem in defense of Matchbox 20. Really, I could.)

   

4. Share your results, if you like! I’d love to hear what makes others happy, even if the world thinks you should feel guilty about it.