Posted by guest blogger, Leslie, a Canadian of Norwegian descent.
Being a fair-minded, liberty-loving individual, I believe it is important when one finds a scrap of good in the New York Times, to glom onto it, as one gloms onto blue moons and other rarities.
So pleased was I to find a delightful op-ed by David Brooks, comparing the USA with its Olympic gold medal match nation, Norway. Both Norway and USA won 9 gold medals in the recent 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. He begins:
The United States, a nation of 300 million, won nine gold medals this
year in the Winter Olympics. Norway, a nation of 4.7 million, also won
nine. This was no anomaly. Over the years, Norwegians have won more gold
medals in Winter Games, and more Winter Olympics medals over all, than
people from any other nation.
So what is so delightful about this? It is not in so much as what Brooks says, as what he doesn't say. Please, do me a favour and click that last link. I digress.
Brooks continues by outlining a story from Norway's past. The kind of story you hear the history books tell of Norway every now and then. WWII occupation. Small independant group tries inflitrating the Nazis to liberate the country. Horrific winter conditions. Skiis. Avalanches. Raging gangrene. Persistence. Friendly neighbours with a hot cup of coffee just in time to prevent frostbite from taking mittened fingers. I mean, it got pretty bad for the story's hero, Jan Baalsrud, while he was evading the Nazis:
He wandered aimlessly for four days, plagued by hallucinations.
At
one point he thought he had found a trail, but he was only following his
own footsteps in a small circle.
Finally, he stumbled upon a
cottage. A man named Marius Gronvold took him in. He treated Baalsrud’s
frostbite and hid him in a remote shed across a lake to recover.
He was alone for a week (a storm made it impossible for anyone to reach
him). Gangrene invaded his legs. He stabbed them to drain the pus and
blood. His eyesight recovered, but the pain was excruciating and he was
starving.
Those Norwegian stories are always so hard and so good at the same time. The Viking gene lives on in these quiet people, only the lingering menace drives them to the medal podium rather than stealing the gold they find on the high seas.
And so Brooks ends on this note:
This astonishing story could only take place in a country where people
are skilled on skis and in winter conditions. But there also is an
interesting form of social capital on display. It’s a mixture of
softness and hardness. Baalsrud was kept alive thanks to a serial
outpouring of love and nurturing. At the same time, he and his rescuers
displayed an unbelievable level of hardheaded toughness and resilience.
That’s a cultural cocktail bound to produce achievement in many spheres.
Hardheaded toughness and resilience as a means of liberation. Ironic attributes to be admired in the NYT, perhaps. Although I suppose it depends on how you define liberation. I may live in Canada, but we get Glenn Beck up here and politically, it appears America has a few ferocious winter snow storms to ski through in order to liberate herself from an ideological occupation that seems to have crept up on it over the years.
But it's do-able. Just have to be willing to accept the gangrene for what it is and have the mettle to drain it without anesthetic.
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