20131215.0612

Today is my brother's birthday, which I celebrate as being a good day.  I know that I am fortunate to have such a brother as I have; mine is remarkably talented, more than reasonably intelligent, and good looking without being better looking than I am.  More, he is a person whose personality is agreeable to mine.  We get along pretty well, and I am given to understand that this is not usually the case for people.  I wish my brother a happy birthday therefore, and in all sincerity note my hope that he has much joy of it.  I certainly intend to do so.

With the note, though, there comes to mind an oddity of some English usage I have known (as happens on occasion).  The statement "May s/he have joy of it" has a particularly backhanded use, one bitterly condemnatory.  I have seen it, or something very much like it, used to express...disapproval of a person who has sought out something that was contested and has acquired it by less than honorable means.  It is something to say of Claudius to "congratulate" him on the Danish throne.  It bespeaks a joy to be had in the same way that Brutus is held to have honor.  It is not a thing to have to hear.

I will admit, however, that I may be rare in hearing such a phrase in such a way.  Those who know me know that I am prone to reading matters in a less-than-optimistic light, that I am prone to seeing insult in things whether or not one has been offered or is even on display.  The tendency is something that preexists my work as a scholar of the humanities and may well be the means through which I developed the basic skill-set that informs my academic study.  But even if it is, it does tend to enforce upon me a certain...unpleasant attitude about the world.  It bids me complain a lot, and that is not always or necessarily even often a helpful thing.

That my brother is as he is, then, is fortunate.  For the most part, he understands my attitudes toward existence, understands the ease with which I and others can look at the world and see that things are wrong with it.  And he is usually better than I am about seeing how problems can be fixed; it is perhaps part of the training he has had that I have not that he does so, but I dimly recall it being one of his many endearing qualities as he and I were growing up.  (I perhaps do not do well to phrase that in the past tense.)  It is only one of the reasons I make an effort to remain in touch with him that he has good advice much of the time.  He is also witty and engaging, possessed of a charisma I have never commanded, and I am fortunate to have had him in my life these twenty-six years.

I hope to have him around for a good many more.