Boys and swords

I read this review on Guys Lit Wire about a new book called Swords: An Artist's Devotion and I got all excited. I want this book. I saw the jpeg images and suddenly felt like a kid again. I got excited and immediately felt the urge to bug my mom to buy it for me (when I realized, of course, that I'm a grown man and can buy it if I want to).

But the post itself got me thinking about a slightly different subject. The author started out this way:

I have a 17-month-old son, and one of the observations I often hear from other parents is, "Oh, a boy... anything you give them, they turn it into a weapon." This usually accompanies one of two unreconcilable pieces of advice: 1) "so it's even more important that you never give them toy guns and swords!" or 2) "so don't even bother trying to keep them away from toy guns and swords, because it doesn't matter."

I won't pretend to analyze whether that's nature or nurture, or whether it's even true. But I gave my son a big stalk of celery last week, and within about 30 seconds he was chasing the cats, bellowing and swinging it around like a claymore.

Now, that's all he said about the matter, and went on to describe the book itself. But it made me think. Why not give your son a sword?

Having a son myself (and having been one myself) I understand why parents wouldn't want to— because they run around the house waving the sword everywhere and knocking things over. But it bothers me because I suspect that denying them the sword or whatever weapon it may be flies right in the face of being a boy, of being, well, masculine.

I'm no expert, so I'm not about to start preaching or anything, but I've noticed that a lot of experts are writing books on this very subject. It interests me, and I've already got a line up of titles I want to read on the subject.

In fact, it makes me think of something I did several years ago that took me a bit by surprise. This was before my son was born, and my wife and I had our house to ourselves. It had snowed quite a bit and my wife wasn't at home. I looked out the window and saw all the snow and couldn't resist the urge to go play in it. So I went outside and started building a snow man. I never got around to putting a face of hat or anything on it. I had essentially just stacked three giant snowballs on top of each other.

Then I had another urge: to completely wreck the thing. Sounded like fun to me. Then I got an another idea. Being a student of Japanese martial arts for a number of years, I happened to have a bokken in the house (it's a sort of wooden practice sword). Feeling a little silly, I retrieved it. Knowing no one else was around to see me, I promptly started cutting and chopping that snowman into smithereens with wild abandon.

Holy cow, it was fun! I felt like a total kid again. It was exhilarating. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I felt really, truly alive. Part of that, I'm sure, probably had to do with the fact that I just needed to get outside and move instead of being cooped up in an office day after day. But still, it thrilled me. I felt strong, virile even. Not that you have to use a weapon to feel like that, but it definitely tapped into a sort of behavior that I think just comes naturally to boys but is general frowned upon by society these days. Hence all the new books about the subject.

Another story... I was giving my 2-year-old son a bath last night and we had a good time playing a similar sort of game. I would take the multi-colored foam building blocks and build a sort of wall or tower on the edge of the tub and he would make a lot of noise, rear back, and knock it over with a tremendous amount of glee and satisfaction. My wife would shake her head if she saw it. Boys being boys. Women frown on that sort of thing, it seems. As does the rest of the politically correct world, apparently. Although I don't know why, and I wonder if it's doing more harm than good.

Of course, I intened to learn more about the subject before I go spectulating or even proselytizing anything from the blogosphere. I still really want that sword book, though. Not just because it's about swords, mind you. It looks beautifully illustrated. =)

And you know what, I probably will buy my son a sword someday, even though my wife will no doubt frown on it. He'll have to use it outside, of course, or it gets taken away. And who knows, maybe I'll go outside and join him.