mandarine

A century ago, Emily asked us to think of ten compliments we received throughout our life.

Warning, severe boasting ahead.

For as long as I can remember, I have always been surrounded by compliments. I have grown under a steady drizzle of compliments, from my family, my teachers, my friends, everyone. Over the years, being praised has become such a natural state that I hardly ever notice anymore.

This constant praise I have grown up with has made me so aware of my own qualities that compliments often sound like neutral statements. If someone says ‘you write very good English for a Frenchman’ or ‘you are very courageous to ride your bike as you do’, I feel hardly flattered: it is just true. Therefore compliments tend to slide over me; they do not print; I forget; and I do not acknowledge them or return them like I should. Shame on me. Mea maxima culpa. My very own worst deadly sin.

I remember one day I was being complimented by a colleague in the secretary’s office, when she interrupted him: “Stop, that. Keep your compliments for somebody who needs them.”

The interesting side-effect of a praise overdose is that I am immune to the “Mum, look at me” syndrome of those who seek glory as a way of existing. This “Mum, look at me” syndrome brings insecure kids to the very top of fame, and I suspect most our presidents have acute forms of this debilitating condition.

I tend to believe that I could now live without compliments; at all. Maybe I am fooling myself and praise is the very fuel that keeps me going; maybe if compliments were to cease, I’d shatter instantly like a clay colossus.
Or maybe compliments were only the initial scaffold that helped build my personal structure. Now that the structural work is done and consolidated, you could remove the scaffolding and I’d still be standing. I have a penchant for this hypothesis.

Now the meme. Honestly I cannot remember ten compliments individually. So, in order to comply with the rules of this meme, I turned to the written ones, those which cannot be forgotten. The very fine compliments that this first year of blogging has recorded in the comments sections here.

1. Mandarine, your heaven is a paradise. Keep the gates open. Tai on My heaven in nine wishes
2. Well, you’ve won me over today. Maria on Who am I writing for?
3. Oh, what a wonderful response! You capture what’s so appealing (and frightening) about Lady Susan. Dorothy on Lady Susan
4. Thanks for this very witty and interesting post! Bloglily on Stylesheet hacking, genetic engineering, same difference
5. Wow. Wow. And another Wow. Well done. Fabulous. I wish I had more to say but I’m stunned. Totally brilliant. Thank you! Lorelle on Playing Devil’s advocate
6. There’s brilliance here, in the idea, in the challenge, in many of the suggestions. David on Changing the world in half a minute
7. Ok, I take back everything I said about Phillipe Sollers […] Wonderful, thoughtful post that I shall certainly return to many times. Litlove on On fidelity and other trifles
8. Wow! What an amazing post. Thanks for articulating clearly the distinction between piracy and theft. Polaris on Piracy is piracy, theft is theft.
9. I like your pencast! Mostly I was admiring your copperplate[…] Charlotte on My first pencast
10. Mandarine, I follow all of your very wise pieces of advice […] Smithereens on Go to sleep, now

And the eleventh compliment, one that I will probably not forget soon (posted there):

Mandarine, a philosopher, a tech whiz, a master with words (even in a second language), as close to a “Renaissance Man” as it’s possible to be in The Information Age.

A warm thank you to all of you readers. I’d better make sure I return such compliments as soon as I can.

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