The Sadness Gene is hereditary, can be passed through both the maternal and paternal line, and is undetectable within DNA. You can carry the Sadness Gene and not show it. The Sadness Gene explained in a punnet square below (the Sadness Gene is indicated by the large S):
| S | s | |
| s | Ss | ss |
| S | SS | Ss |
In the above scenario, only one out of four times does the person display the trait. But in three out of the four times, the person carries it, and can pass it on to their offspring. I got it like that, I think. My great-grandmother didn't have it at all, and my great-grandfather had it. So then they had children, all of which became carriers. And when my grandma and my grandfather (another carrier) had my mom, they made her a carrier, as well. And then when she and my dad (a carrier) had me, they unfortunately gave me SS, the trait of the Sadness Gene.
Nobody can tell from looking at me that I have it, I don't tell anyone ever. Nobody who doesn't have it knows what it feels like, and I don't want anyone else to worry. It's my problem and I'll deal with it alone, thank you. But if there is one thing you can do for me it is to not criticize when I do something wrong, that seems weird to you or whatever. People with the Sadness Gene sometimes do things that people without the Sadness Gene think are strange and don't understand. We spend time alone, we drink in the middle of the day. And then the non-Sadness Gene people say, Oh, look at how irresponsible, or Oh, look at how unfriendly. We're not unfriendly — we're just trying to spare you.
Worst of all, when I'm sitting in my room, when my skin is dry and I ache all over, my shoulders especially, and there is nobody calling, and I turn my phone off, there isn't anything on TV and I'm bored and I wonder, is this how everyone feels?, but I know that it isn't how everyone feels — the worst is that I won't change. I was born this way. It's in my blood.
Comments (closed)
doug eaves
2009-05-31 15:27:11
Thank you for sharing Mr. Lutz. Interestingly enough, I too was born with a genetic anomaly that is undetectable by DNA analysis. It's called the Criticism Gene. It's only passed along the male line, and chances are 50% that a male child will get the gene in its dominant form if his father carries the gene. But if the boy's father carries it, in either its dominant or recessive form, then his own father had it in either its dominant or recessive form, and so on. It forms as either a recessive gene or a dominant gene during the mother's gestation period and the environmental conditions in her surroundings. However, there is no data indicating how the environemental factors during gestation cause the gene to develop in its dominant form or its recessive form. Given its undetectability by even the most sophisticated medical research equipment today, there is no way to know if a male child will get the gene unless it is known that his father is a carrier. If it's known that his father is a carrier, there is a 50% chance that the little boy will get the dominant form of the gene, regardless of the form of the gene that his father carries. In the case that the boy does receive the C gene, whether it will be dominant or recessive won't be discernible until his cognitive development has reached that of a 'normal' 4 or 5 year old. But If a baby boy gets the dominant form of the Criticism Gene, the family will learn soon enough, due to certain behavioral and cognitive tendencies of that boy by the time he is 4 or 5 years old. At that point, if the father is a non-critical sort of guy, the family will know that he is a carrier nonetheless. You can figure out the diagram in your head, I'm sure.
Measures to prevent the occurrence of any future male offspring being fathered by a carrier are now covered by many insurance plans nationwide. (There is a statistically significant difference by race in the incidence of this mutation occurring. It is much more common among those of European and Asian ancestry compared to those of African or Native American or Pacific Islander ancestry.) An outline of a bill that includes research funding for this medical mystery is even being promoted by the Secretary of Health and Human Services.
Since the research in this tiny area of genetics and molecular biology is still in its incipient stages, neither our paternal grandfathers would have had any idea that they were carriers, nor would our fathers have known since its discovery is so recent. The only evidence would have been through observation of a male ancestor's behavior. Circumstantial evidence is poor science though, and there is the possibility that a male who could have been characterized as an "overly critical" person may not have even had the Criticism Gene.
Nevertheless, strides are being made in collecting data that may provide some insight into the origin of this genetic mutation, which may in turn lead to some form of 'treatment' so that families, organizations, and societies may be spared the endless barrage of criticism doled out by those unfortunate men It's quite possible that this genetic fluke is even rarer than the Sadness Gene, given the fact that only males carry the mutant gene and only males inherit that mutant gene, whether in its dominant form or its recessive form.
Little empirical research has been done on this genetic malformation, but plenty of anecdotal evidence exists to provide a foundation from which one may inductively infer that its presence is indeed, real. For example, let's say I find a topic that appears to be interesting and could provide me with some information that might give me greater insight into the frailty of the human race and reduce my misanthropic tendencies. I read the article in about 90 seconds.
Afterwards, I realize that 90 seconds have just been stolen from me. By labeling an article as creative non-fiction and placing an intriguing title on it, it attracted my attention. But by the end of the first sentence I was beginning to have misgivings about choosing to read this article when a 'medical condition' is undetectable by the current technology of diagnostic instruments. Still, I gave you the benefit of the doubt. There could be enough anecdotal evidence and survey data to indicate that a such a condition does indeed exist, but it's simply undetectable by the current methods of diagnosis. This has been the case throughout history:microscopic organisms are found to be the cause of this mysterious disease or that one. Then strides were made in the detection of viruses. But the foundation of research for each disease or medical condition was based on common symptoms, geographies, behaviors, or morphological progression of tissue transformation among a significant number of people populating a given territory. In other words, data was provided by more than one bored young man with little to do butlash together a few sentences in an hour or so, and then spend the rest of the day whining.
So you see, I have the Criticism Gene and I just can't let go of the fact that you wasted my time without providing you with some constructive criticism. I am compelled by my genetic make-up to explain in clear and pointed language how you wasted my time, and why you might have chosen to do that. Those with the Criticism Gene are congenitally unable to fault themselves for what may be their own lapses of judgement. Another party is always guilty. And those, like me, who have this condition, will provide ample details about the problem that another person has caused, and when possible, offer a reason why that problem was instigated.
In person, I can communicate constructive criticism in a manner that is pleasing to the party being criticized because I smile a lot and note whatever strong points may be present in a person's English composition. Usually, I say, "that's a great title you've got for your essay" or "you sure do have a nice signature." But your article has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. your article about your sadness is sad all right. But I don't think my usage of the word is the same as yours. My use of sad indicates 'that having an inferior or substandard quality.' If that's what you meant by your Sadness Gene, then I apologize for misunderstanding your basic premise. But it seemed to me you were attempting to communicate information about an emotional state rather than the compositional integrity of an English language article. Right?
When you stated that the Sadness Gene is undetectable by 'DNA' (I assume you are referring to DNA analysis as done by geneticists and molecular biologists as opposed to DNA analysis by solipsistic neophyte writers or Amazonian shaman of the Yanamamo tribe), I let you off the hook to see if you could provide a compelling reason to believe what you are writing. After all, your article is labeled "creative nonfiction" so I assume that you are writing about something that exists as fact, or even factoid, but you are writing about it in a creative way, such as the type of writing done by the so-called New Journalists of the 1960s or perhaps even the epiphenomenal conversations reported by Bob Woodward in some of his books during the 1990s. But no. there is nothing to indicate that anything you have written could be classified as any type of non-fiction no matter how broad the category. What you have written requires the reader to accept what you say as an article of faith, since there is obviously no empirical evidence to support your claim. So whoever made the poor judgement to insert the label of 'non-fiction' as a categorical classification of your article should be required to buy a dicitonary and commit to memory the defintion of non-fiction. And to include the word for a genuine phenomenon, "gene," into your title doubles the deception. Was that the point, just to see how many people would fall for the cheap little trick of misclassifying your article with its duplicitous title?
I didn't want to write this criticsm of your article, but I have the Criticism Gene and as hard as I tried to stop writing, I just couldn't do it. I tried to lay down and relax with a raga of peace and devotion playing, but it didn't work. Then I took some Valium and Ativans, and they didn't work. So, here I am, still at the computer. It's 6:00 a.m. here in Tokyo, and I have to go to work in about 2 hours to proofread poorly written English essays by semi-literate college students for 4.5 hours. And then I get to sit in a big chair at a big desk and smile a lot at people who are at my school because the Japanese government feels it's more appropriate to fuck over poor international students twice by having them work the low wage low skill jobs that Japanese people won't work, and they also have to go to college and pay tuition so they can get a student visa so they can get jobs and be exploited by ignorant shop owners.
And you think you've got a sadness gene. You've got something, but it's not a sadness gene. It's called "I'm too fucking lazy to put any effort into writing an interesting article gene." And you found one of the rare few who has the Criticism Gene. I guess it's your lucky day, because you sure as hell made sure that it's not mine. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to stay up all night so I could criticize your worthless piece of scribbling. Buy a fucking box of crayons and get a coloring book. In about 10 years you may be ready to use words to express yourself, but I'd keep the crayons and the coloring books around just in case. Thanks for ruining my goddam Monday. sincerely, de
lora gardner
2009-05-31 18:52:47
I'm glad you brought this up. I accepted this story for publication, and as with everything I accepted for Unlikely, an elaborate justification, if you will, was worked out in my mind prior to said acceptance. After I go through your post more carefully, I'll offer my justification (which has little to do with the 'realities' of *science*) for whatever it's worth. Just felt an urgent need to respond to you, at least in brief, as soon as I was made aware of this.
--Lora Gardner
lora gardner
2009-05-31 21:36:57
First, to clarify. Lutz's piece was submitted as "a story," which could mean either fiction or non, by our submission guidelines. I assumed it was fiction and assumed that would be clear to anyone who read it.
My editor assumed it was nonfiction. We didn't know we had different assumptions until now. We didn't ask Lutz. It was billed as nonfiction, but was placed under simply "stories" just a while before the Eaves writing above. I would have accepted it either way, as the narrative of a fictional or nonfictional character with problems and a way with words.
Creative nonfiction, to my mind, needs to express something and tell as story; it doesn't need to have a narrator who has to know about genetics if he'she talks about genetics. In any case, I left out consideration of whether Lutz was an expert in genetics or not. He might be for all I know the biggest expert in the world. Nothing in the story rules that out.
The real material difference between creative nonfiction and fiction in this case would revolve around the issue of the gender of the narrator -- male if creative non (if we want to assume that Eric Lutz is a man writing as a man) and could-go-either way if fiction because the narrator doesn't reveal gender.
There might also be clues in the story that someone with big gene knowledge would get and others (like me) would not.
Anyway, I'm not here to argue against the view of Eaves, but just to say why I really liked the story, and felt excited to see it run. Since it has provoked at least two emotional outburst (mine and the one above), I'm satisfied.
When I first opened Lutz's submission I though ooh, it looks nice on the page. It has variety and balance. It's also short and can be read easily in one sitting. I read it. I thought, this is smooth, and polished. It flows. It's playful. It's sad.
But I wasn't sure about it. I kept going back to it.
I didn't doubt the narrator's ability to convey a sense of sadness, or that he/she has a family history of much sadness and some apparently not sadness. And that he/she has skin problems, and loneliness, as revealed in the final lines.
I thought, it has formal unity. Not that formal unity was always a criteria or anything. But here its nice: The purpose for the narrator's anonymity is revealed in this line "I don't tell anyone ever."
So it's also a confession. The narrator is confessing to having been born sad and to having been passed something by blood, which by way of the story's grammar, seems to include the aching body and the dry skin.
The narrator seems to have been passed a physical condition as well as an emotional one.
The blood anxiety is the final line completes things, but doesn't close any doors.
The problem was that I doubted my own ability to judge the scientific validity of the story. I am not any kind of expert in genetics. I considered sending this to a sciency friend to see if the genetics was valid.
Then, thanks to Edgar Allan Poe, a soap opera, and a telenovela, I realized I was missing the whole point.
Anyone familiar with Poe's work can see the parallels -- very short, rhythmic, a nameless narrator who makes the reader uneasy for some reason. And then there's blood and science. Two other things in every Poe story.
When I say science, I mean the things like mesmerism, and animal magnetism, and phrenology, we aren't considered scientific today at all. At the time, they were theory and were both taken seriously and heavily questioned.
Poe explored anxieties over these sciences in his fiction. Blood of course was the huge anxiety. Writing before precivil war writers really 'came our' against slavery, where ideas about blood purity, etc were chafing hard against reality and finding voice in the highly allegorical fiction of those days, which was full of blood anxiety.
Now, I believe in DNA because it looks real, and it seems to be real, and really smart people say it is, but it's mysterious, and confusing, and difficult to understand. It's impossible to sort the information we get and to know what is true and what is not. Throw in HIV and we have lots of blood anxiety. The last line of the story hits this vein.
If you've watched the telenovela Contrato de Amor, you noticed that the term ADN (Spanish for DNA)is spoken about 500 times per show. The whole plot is driven by DNA -- and about the fact that the result of DNA testing can be manipulated by bribed doctors, or results-switching villains with secrets. DNA finally brings down the tragic hero.
One Life to Live is the same deal, but on a much grander scale. Split personalities. DNA. Switched babies. Supressed DNA evidence. Fake blood marrow donors. Etc. As far as I know, these shows don't deal with HIV directly -- but that aspect of 21st C blood anxiety is there. DNA is its perfect dramatic tool.
I felt that the story was not only deliberately in the traditions discussed above, but offering something fresh and fast, perfect for the web. I hope some people dig it as much as I do.
Jonathan
2009-05-31 21:59:35
I billed this as creative non-fiction, yeah. I took the last sentences to be an observation of hypochondria. When Doug posted his response, I told Lora about it, since she selected the story. I was perplexed as to why she was asking as to why I considered this non-fiction. Then I realized that Doug makes that point a few times, which I hadn't noticed before on account that his response is boring. I thought of this piece as non-fiction; I assumed it was clear that "gene" was a metaphor and I know of no definition of non-fiction that disallows metaphor.
Eric might have intended this piece as fiction, in which case that was clumsy of me, and I apologize. The idea, however, that it can't be non-fiction because Eric uses an obviously inaccurate definition of "gene" is... limited.