February 23, 2017 - 21:54
In the Steven King novel Carrie, the titular character is shocked and suprised when she has her first period. Surrounded by mean girls in a cold locker room, she is singled out and made to feel wrong and stupid. Her mother simply never taught her what a period was. Without friends, Carrie is simply illiterate to a fact that is considered common knowledge. Eventually, her anger (over being bullied and feeling powerless) manifest with telekentic powers. These powers, not grounded in thought, but instead in impulse, allow her to murder the entire senior class. It is unclear as to if she is meant to be a tragic hero or a villain, but to me, she was always some sort of example of extremes; what happens when a lack of knowledge builds up and isn't allowed to expell its self. In many ways, it is the most pure of emotions; it is an outpouring of self that eclipses others and is dangerous when left unchecked.
When we discuss anger, it is hard to call anger "productive." It bears a negative connotation and we don't really know how to deal with it. We simply aren't taught how to, so instead we bumble around pretending that we understand it, when in reality we just want to escape it. Anger causes panic or fear or more panic. Most importantly, anger feeds off itself. If it isn't unchecked, it takes over, making it impossible to think clearly.
But anger is also beautiful. Anger starts political movements. Anger guides revolutions and ideas and solutions. Anger guides poetry and writing and reflection. Anger guides change.