Freshman English Paper Oliver Sacks
English
Wednesday April 4, 2012
“Perspective Matters”
As children, we learn that there are five human senses: sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch. Upon reflection and memory, I realize that sight is always listed first in the list of senses. It may just be a reflex or a habit to do so, or maybe it’s just human nature to place high emphasis on sight. Sight is taken for granted by most of us, and when we encounter non-sighted individuals, we have an emotional and physical reaction that we’re relieved the non-sighted cannot see. Reading Oliver Sacks’ case “To See and Not See”, about a man named Virgil, gives me a new and interesting perspective on blindness. I have a friend who is partially deaf. She and I communicate with visual cues and our communication is helped by the fact that she can hear some sound and can read lips. In contrast, I cannot say I have had an occasion to spend time with a non-sighted person. While reading about Virgil, however, I felt that I was given an opportunity to learn about the life of someone who lives in a world of only four senses. Virgil was born with sight, he briefly lost it at the age of 3 while ill, and at age 6 developed cataracts which blocked his vision and made him functionally blind. The life he lived was a modest one. He “had a steady job and an identity, was self-supporting, had friends, read Braille papers and books...Life was limited but stable in its way.” (112) He accepted his blindness as simply part of his existence; Virgil’s life was imbued with passivity. At the age of 47, Virgil became re-acquainted with an old girlfriend named Amy. Their relationship evolved into a committed one within 3 years. With Amy’s insistent encouragement, Virgil assented to have surgery to remove one of the cataracts, despite his family’s misgivings over the disruption to his already stable life and identity as someone who is blind. There is a distillation of Virgil’s state of being; as I see it, his life
Wednesday April 4, 2012
“Perspective Matters”
As children, we learn that there are five human senses: sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch. Upon reflection and memory, I realize that sight is always listed first in the list of senses. It may just be a reflex or a habit to do so, or maybe it’s just human nature to place high emphasis on sight. Sight is taken for granted by most of us, and when we encounter non-sighted individuals, we have an emotional and physical reaction that we’re relieved the non-sighted cannot see. Reading Oliver Sacks’ case “To See and Not See”, about a man named Virgil, gives me a new and interesting perspective on blindness. I have a friend who is partially deaf. She and I communicate with visual cues and our communication is helped by the fact that she can hear some sound and can read lips. In contrast, I cannot say I have had an occasion to spend time with a non-sighted person. While reading about Virgil, however, I felt that I was given an opportunity to learn about the life of someone who lives in a world of only four senses. Virgil was born with sight, he briefly lost it at the age of 3 while ill, and at age 6 developed cataracts which blocked his vision and made him functionally blind. The life he lived was a modest one. He “had a steady job and an identity, was self-supporting, had friends, read Braille papers and books...Life was limited but stable in its way.” (112) He accepted his blindness as simply part of his existence; Virgil’s life was imbued with passivity. At the age of 47, Virgil became re-acquainted with an old girlfriend named Amy. Their relationship evolved into a committed one within 3 years. With Amy’s insistent encouragement, Virgil assented to have surgery to remove one of the cataracts, despite his family’s misgivings over the disruption to his already stable life and identity as someone who is blind. There is a distillation of Virgil’s state of being; as I see it, his life
Cited: Sacks, Oliver. An Anthropologist on Mars: Seven Paradoxical Tales. New York: Vintage, 1996. Print. ---. “The Last Hippie.” An Anthropologist on Mars: Seven Paradoxical Tales. New York: Vintage, 1996. 42 – 76. Print.