I don't quite know what to make of this news, upon his death, from London.
Many many years ago his Road Less Traveled was seminal in my growing up. I read it after my first year in college, while a summer camp counselor. It didn't all make sense to me, but I knew it was on the right track. I knew that self-discipline would get me far, and that I could delay gratification, and that Love was more than a feeling. I knew I wanted to be able to extend myself for others. It would be many years before I learned about not overextending myself for the "fix" of helping someone else.
As much as I admire Peck's incredible work and perhaps brilliance, I'm not surprised he was human. But we women have this problem with infidelity. Just doesn't sit well. I've been known to get livid at even the thought.
On the other hand, I was willing to overlook Clinton's indiscretions, but less so Guiliani. I still hold Woody Allen's affair against him, (with Mia Farrow's adopted daughter) and can't stand Woody Harralson anymore, (after he portrayed that sleazy magazine editor... see? I've blocked the name! tho I suppose it was just a "gig") and yet Mel Gibson's running around seems to be easily expected (loose nut and all that).
Anyway, some would say it's the Scots in me. My clan motto, if indeed we are descended from clan McLeod, as I fully expect, is "Hold Fast". (grin) Go figure.
The name was changed to Cloud hundreds of years ago but not many get as excited around bagpipes as I, so it has to be firmly from the clan you see. And you surely know my dear sweet adorable cairn who, as it happens, originates from MY clan island, Isle of Skye - and we even have a beautiful castle, living breathing and the chief, John MacLeod resides there still!
One more funny thing - I used to get teased by a dear friend in college for dating so many redheads. Now I won't go into what kilts do for me, but well, redheads are a special breed.
But I digress.
Ok, ok, because I liked Peck, he's "allowed" to be human. But because I admired him so much, the knowledge of his personal failings are harder to take, especially when I've read accounts about his marriage written by his own hand. The same words that once moved me to deeper thought, to admire him, now ring inflated and empty.
His fondness for gin is easier to forgive somehow. The habit flies in the face of his emphasis on self discipline (the key to personal growth) but just more socially acceptable perhaps, especially to a Scotswoman (grimace).
We expect our leaders and heros to be above us - hence the elevation in the first place, right?
He said he was more prophet than saint, according to the story above. Aren't we all?
The older I get, the more idols fall, the more human we all get to be. Maybe this is the root of compassion, understanding of our failings and seeing how they connect us all.
Truly we all do the best we can - no harm in that. Most of the time I can see people this way, and still love and respect them. Even when my heart is broken.
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