Is there such a thing as an original idea? Is my begging of this question original in nature? I ask because I recall a scene in the movie “Inception” when Arthur explains why the process of inception is impossible to Mr. Saito. Arthur says, “[One’s] mind can always trace the genesis of an idea—true inspiration is impossible to fake.”
I am going to take this notion one step further, and answer my initial question: there is no such thing as an original idea—true inspiration is impossible. I imagine Christopher Nolan read a statement like Arthur’s in a book, the author who wrote that passage was motivated by a verse in a song and the songwriter who penned that verse was influenced by a real-life event that they witnessed.
Did you like that little explanation of how my thought arose from a concurrent slew of previously arrived-at notions? Did you think it was original? Well, I’ve got news for you: it wasn’t. The cumulative nature of my explanation can be accredited to the song “Chad Gadya,” which my overzealously religious mother insists on singing at the Seder table every Passover, and the tricolon structure is an example of a rhetorical device for emphasis, which I learned about by reading Virgil’s “Aeneid”in my tenth grade Latin class. I, like Christopher Nolan and everyone else on Earth, am a product of my environment, influenced by a wealth of experiences.
For this reason, it seemed fitting that I choose to name my column for the coming months, “Ulysses.” “Ulysses” is a novel by James Joyce, whose name is the Anglicized version of that belonging to the Greek hero Odysseus. Joyce’s novel narrates the adventures of Leopold Bloom in Dublin, in a fashion that parallels Homer’s chronicling of Odysseus’ journey through the Mediterranean Sea. My column will serve to chronicle my own adventures in Dublin where I will reside, just like Bloom, analyzing the various ways in which environments, and the personal experiences that eventuate as a result of environments, affect actions and opinions. Just as Joyce was inspired to write “Ulysses” by a culture and setting that exposed him to Homer, I was inspired to write my own “Ulysses” by an environment that motivated me to study abroad in Dublin.
My study abroad decisions were the hardest I have made in my life. As of about a week ago, I was determined to study abroad in Istanbul. I had originally applied to the Duke in Istanbul program, but it was axed due to low enrollment as a result of security concerns. Thus, I directly enrolled in Bogazici University, the Turkish host university from Duke in Istanbul, through a provider called IES. A few days ago, after much thought and deliberation, I decided to withdraw from Bogazici and attend University College of Dublin instead.
I did not decide to forgo studying in Istanbul because I was concerned about my safety. Despite the salvo of terrorist attacks that befell Turkey in 2016, I was extremely confident in the security apparatus that IES puts in place, as well as the infinitesimally small odds of being affected by such an attack in a city of over 14 million people. However, I did have concerns about the quality of the program. As I finished my original, premature column, discussing how I was “not going to let terrorism win” while studying in Turkey, I thought about the experience I would have in Istanbul.
IES, the only American-based study abroad program in Istanbul that was not cancelled for the upcoming fall semester, would send at most seven students, and likely would restrict travelling to areas outside Istanbul in Turkey due to security concerns.
For as long as I can remember, I have prioritized personal achievement over personal enjoyment. Growing up in Scarsdale, N.Y., I felt the need to take advantage of the resources I had been gifted, lest I squander my parents’ hard work and collect the derogatory adjective, “spoiled.” I spent hours upon hours at my desk studying so that I could get into the college of my choice. I lifted weights until my hands bled from rubbing up against the chalk-caked bar so that I would be strong enough to step on the football field my senior year of high school. I submitted countless applications to study abroad in Istanbul so that I could have the most rewarding experience, especially since the opportunity to study abroad is such a privilege. But all things considered, I realized that I would have more fun somewhere else.
I let terrorism win…a very, very, very minor battle. Ultimately, I decided that defying ISIS and the extreme methods of the PKK was not worth compromising my own personal enjoyment for four months, just so I could say I did it. Dublin will offer me a chance put my happiness first—to sing merry songs in quaint pubs, have the Pan-European experience typical of an American studying abroad and, of course, make the time-honored pilgrimage to Oktoberfest (a tricolon of tricolons). Although Istanbul would have been great and I likely would have reflected on my time there as more valuable to my personal growth, I am certain that I will have more fun in Dublin.
I did not want to martyr something as insignificant as my fall semester, and so I traded the Bosporus for the River Liffey and rakıfor Guinness, a much more palatable beverage. After years of grinding for accolades, desiring to prove that my environment did not “spoil” me, so I decided to spoil myself. Such was my environment’s impact.
As I wander through Dublin and other great cities of Europe, like Bloom, I will write about how given environments impact me, as well as others whom I encounter. The world is a diverse place, which has produced all sorts views and opinions. Iintend to document them as best as I can, and Oktoberfest as accurately as I can.
Jacob Weiss is a Trinity junior.
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Jacob Weiss is a Trinity senior. His column, "not jumping to any conclusions," runs on alternate Fridays.