Of Mice, Men, and Vocational Discontent

This entry started with a search for the origin of a quote.  In the movie Reality Bites Ethan Hawke’s character, Troy, answers the phone with “Hello, you’ve reached the winter of our discontent”.  I always thought this was a poignant phrase, so I sat down today and decided to write an entry called, “The spring of my discontent”.

In my search for the origin of this quote I found that this was a book by John Steinbeck, but that he took the title from Shakespeare’s play Richard III. “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York”.  After reading this I noticed a pattern with John Steinbeck’s book titles, and decided to change the content and attitude of my entry.  His most famous book Of Mice and Men also borrows it’s title from a famous phrase.  This phrase although popular has a much more obscure origin.  It originates from this poem, written in Gaelic slang (or Old English or something…)

Robert Burns (1759-1796).
Poems and Songs.
To a Mouse
On turning her up in her nest, with the plough,
November, 1785

"To a Mouse"
WEE, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get a blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell-
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld!
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

The summary of this poem is that Robert Burns was plowing a field, and he disturbed a field mouse’s nest.  Robert stops plowing and the mouse looks up at him.  He then realizes what he has done.  He has destroyed the hard earned, neatly built little nest, winter is fast approaching, and the mouse may  not have time to rebuild before the coming frost.  This perfectly alive and healthy cute little mouse may not live through the night.  In a moment of perfect perspective, he then coins the phrase (can one coin a phrase?  Or only a word?…oh well)  “The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry/astray”.  With this perspective he then deems the little mouse more fortunate than himself.  The little mouse is not worried.  The little mouse knows no fear or discontent, or anger.  All the little mouse has to worry about is gathering the remains of it’s dwelling and rebuilding.  In doing so it is serving it’s purpose on this earth perfectly.  Life is simple for it, it exists, and lives, and reproduces, and eventually dies, and in doing so it glorifies it’s Creator.  Man’s task is much more complicated.

Summary stolen from some website:

This is a lesson that I learned in high-school, while studying John Steinbeck in 11^th grade English.  It was my first period class and I came to class stoned almost every day.  Somehow, although I failed the class, I learned so much from that teacher.

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