The Recalcitrance of Things: Misha Herwin

 

Most people would say that the objects we own and the things that surround us are inanimate. They have no life of their own and have no sensitivity to atmosphere or emotion. Why is it, then that when you’re in a hurry things start to play up?

Last week my husband had an appointment at the doctor’s. We were ready to leave when he discovered that the buckle of his Swatch watch wouldn’t fasten. This occasionally happens even when everything is the right way round when you take the watch off at night, the following morning the spoke that slips into the groove to hold the strap has turned itself round. Putting this right is not easy and much cursing and fury followed.

The ability of a chain to knot itself into an almost impossible tangle is another example. You put it away neatly coiled to find it has wound itself up with all the other chains into a serpent nest of frustration.

The simple explanation is human error or clumsiness but this does not explain the vagaries of the computer/laptop/tablet. For me these are the prime example of human/object interaction. Every Monday I have a dedicated hour of silent writing in the Mslexia salon. Because I want to write on my PC I log on on my laptop. Some weeks however the laptop refuses to display any emails, so I can’t access my link. Why it does this no one knows. The emails come through on the PC and my phone and in fact yesterday’s bunch, link included, were here this morning.

The same used to happen with my Friday night Zoom calls with a friend. Most of the time we had no trouble connecting, but on the odd occasion the link he sent simply would not work.

It’s the randomness of these occurrences that suggest something beyond the physical. Or am I being too whimsical? Whatever the true reason, the recalcitrance of things could be the start of a story.