Sometimes you just have to be careful what you ask for. In a fit of extreme boredom and disillusioned* restlessness, I asked a friend whom I had mentally pegged as an intelligent, deep thinking and insightful human being to provide me with a two word subject upon which to write. Whilst the friend in question is indeed intelligent, deep thinking and insightful, I had completely forgotten that she is also capable of being down right bloody minded, which is why I got the response “fish odour”. Some people just don’t play fair. Anyway, I am not one to shy from a challenge (well, not when it involves writing stuff; the Krypton Factor can get fucked) so here goes...
If you put “fish odour” in to Goolge the first three results are all about Trimethylaminuria, or “Fish Odour Syndrome”, a metabolic disorder which has exactly the effect on the sufferer you would expect. The fourth is an article entitled “My son’s armpits smell strongly of fish”. Poor bastard. Number five is an article entitled “Keeping your vagina healthy,” from an Australian website dedicated to menstruation and related matters. The rest of the results maintain similar themes.
I draw your attention to this not because these articles are particularly interesting, but because they are all symptomatic of a single theme: fish odour = bad stuff. In fact, if you put “sweet smelling fish” in to Google the results you get are also about how fish odour is a bad thing, including the somewhat disturbing post entitled “Why does my girlfriend’s stuff smell so strongly?” Nobody, it seems, has a good thing to say about ode du cod.
It’s not even as if ready to eat fish smell particularly great: only this morning my father decided to cook a kipper for breakfast and I nearly threw up even before scaled flesh had hit the pan. I don’t choose to gag at the stench of what some people consider food; it’s a reaction my body has evolved to have in the presence of any smell it considers to be generally unhealthy. I can’t help it, right?
Of course I can. At some point in the history of the genus Homo one of our ancestors caught or, more likely, found a fish of some kind and thought “Hmmm, that might be tasty,” before tucking in in the manner captured perfectly by Andy Serkis as “Gollum” in the Lord of the Rings films (although probably minus the singing.) This ancient individual obviously wasn’t put off by the smell, and neither were any of his descendants. In fact, they must have associated the smell with a good thing otherwise they wouldn’t have actively sought our finned friends out for dinner, possibly helping to increase Homo’s brain capacity along the way, developing their ability to swim, driving invention in the pursuit of more efficient fishing techniques and ultimately culminating in Sharon Davies and Captain Birdseye. So why do I find the smell so repulsive? Because I have been conditioned to do so. It is an arrogant luxury I’ve never even considered I had, until now.
I would like to propose a new definition for “Fish Odour Syndrome”, which I now believe to be a condition suffered by significantly greater numbers of people than that described by the current meaning of the term. My version of Fish Odour Syndrome is thus:
“A negative reaction, often extreme or irrational, to a minor inconvenience and / or unpalatable characteristic of a given subject, where said subject would otherwise be beneficial and/or sustaining. Particularly prevalent among individuals not forced to overcome or rationalise such negative reactions due to a lack of necessity for the subject in question.”
In short, I find the smell of fish revolting because the modern world has allowed me to get away with it: I don’t have to face the smell of fish on a regular basis because I can buy loads of other stuff to eat. As such, I have never had to get used to the smell of fish, and thus never given it the time to associate it with a positive thing (i.e having a full stomach as opposed to an empty one). There are many, many more examples of my version of Fish Odour Syndrome, and they are all symptomatic of our perception of alternative options. To get on to the cover of a magazine the photo of a model must be perfect, with every blemish removed digitally from a perfect figure with perfect makeup against a perfect backdrop. Nothing else is acceptable. If you’re selling a magazine then perhaps this is just about understandable, but the effect it has is to transfer Fish Odour Syndrome to the populous at large:
People are so aware that there are numerous alternatives to everything in the world in which we live, supposedly better alternatives to stuff that really matters - including partners, friends, beliefs and self perception - that they are no longer willing to adjust to, and accept, those little things that stop them from seeing the bigger picture. In essence, they are not learning how good the fish is because they’re instantly put off by the smell, and McDonalds is just down the road.
This is a lesson I have learned only in the last couple of hours, and one I intend to think about further. I have no doubt that anyone who reads this will be able to think of their own equivalent to my interpretation of Fish Odour Syndrome, and I encourage you to challenge whatever guise it may take. Personally I’m going to spend some time at the fish counter next time I go shopping. I won’t buy any, obviously. Regardless of how much I learn to love the smell, fish are still bloody ugly creatures...
Rant over.
If you put “fish odour” in to Goolge the first three results are all about Trimethylaminuria, or “Fish Odour Syndrome”, a metabolic disorder which has exactly the effect on the sufferer you would expect. The fourth is an article entitled “My son’s armpits smell strongly of fish”. Poor bastard. Number five is an article entitled “Keeping your vagina healthy,” from an Australian website dedicated to menstruation and related matters. The rest of the results maintain similar themes.
I draw your attention to this not because these articles are particularly interesting, but because they are all symptomatic of a single theme: fish odour = bad stuff. In fact, if you put “sweet smelling fish” in to Google the results you get are also about how fish odour is a bad thing, including the somewhat disturbing post entitled “Why does my girlfriend’s stuff smell so strongly?” Nobody, it seems, has a good thing to say about ode du cod.
It’s not even as if ready to eat fish smell particularly great: only this morning my father decided to cook a kipper for breakfast and I nearly threw up even before scaled flesh had hit the pan. I don’t choose to gag at the stench of what some people consider food; it’s a reaction my body has evolved to have in the presence of any smell it considers to be generally unhealthy. I can’t help it, right?
Of course I can. At some point in the history of the genus Homo one of our ancestors caught or, more likely, found a fish of some kind and thought “Hmmm, that might be tasty,” before tucking in in the manner captured perfectly by Andy Serkis as “Gollum” in the Lord of the Rings films (although probably minus the singing.) This ancient individual obviously wasn’t put off by the smell, and neither were any of his descendants. In fact, they must have associated the smell with a good thing otherwise they wouldn’t have actively sought our finned friends out for dinner, possibly helping to increase Homo’s brain capacity along the way, developing their ability to swim, driving invention in the pursuit of more efficient fishing techniques and ultimately culminating in Sharon Davies and Captain Birdseye. So why do I find the smell so repulsive? Because I have been conditioned to do so. It is an arrogant luxury I’ve never even considered I had, until now.
I would like to propose a new definition for “Fish Odour Syndrome”, which I now believe to be a condition suffered by significantly greater numbers of people than that described by the current meaning of the term. My version of Fish Odour Syndrome is thus:
“A negative reaction, often extreme or irrational, to a minor inconvenience and / or unpalatable characteristic of a given subject, where said subject would otherwise be beneficial and/or sustaining. Particularly prevalent among individuals not forced to overcome or rationalise such negative reactions due to a lack of necessity for the subject in question.”
In short, I find the smell of fish revolting because the modern world has allowed me to get away with it: I don’t have to face the smell of fish on a regular basis because I can buy loads of other stuff to eat. As such, I have never had to get used to the smell of fish, and thus never given it the time to associate it with a positive thing (i.e having a full stomach as opposed to an empty one). There are many, many more examples of my version of Fish Odour Syndrome, and they are all symptomatic of our perception of alternative options. To get on to the cover of a magazine the photo of a model must be perfect, with every blemish removed digitally from a perfect figure with perfect makeup against a perfect backdrop. Nothing else is acceptable. If you’re selling a magazine then perhaps this is just about understandable, but the effect it has is to transfer Fish Odour Syndrome to the populous at large:
People are so aware that there are numerous alternatives to everything in the world in which we live, supposedly better alternatives to stuff that really matters - including partners, friends, beliefs and self perception - that they are no longer willing to adjust to, and accept, those little things that stop them from seeing the bigger picture. In essence, they are not learning how good the fish is because they’re instantly put off by the smell, and McDonalds is just down the road.
This is a lesson I have learned only in the last couple of hours, and one I intend to think about further. I have no doubt that anyone who reads this will be able to think of their own equivalent to my interpretation of Fish Odour Syndrome, and I encourage you to challenge whatever guise it may take. Personally I’m going to spend some time at the fish counter next time I go shopping. I won’t buy any, obviously. Regardless of how much I learn to love the smell, fish are still bloody ugly creatures...
Rant over.
*Correct use of the word, in case anyone's interested
