Life
Now that it's been 2017 for a few days, the New Year's resolutions are coming thick and fast, and we're all busily deciding what we're going to do in the next year (finish our novels! Learn French! Commit to visiting our lone annoying aunt at least once a month, even if she keeps commenting on the aforementioned unfinished novel!). But while you have likely made at least one New Year's resolution in your life, odds are low that you know too much about the history of resolutions.
The New Year's resolution is a fairly new tradition, with most historians tracing the concept back to the 17th century — but even in the brief period of time in which making resolutions has been popular, some fairly stupendous acts have resulted, from the unrealistic to the bonkers to the accidentally brilliant.
While the actual power of the resolution depends a lot on individual factors, like willpower and whether or not our sense of virtue and new beginnings lasts into February, it's comforting to know that this isn't exactly a new struggle— Queen Elizabeth I completely understands if your idea about knitting hats for everybody in your family rapidly snowballs into something completely ridiculous. Trust me.
Psst! Check out the "You IRL" stream in the Bustle App for daily tips on how to have an empowering 2017 starting Jan. 1. Right now, tweet @bustle about how you plan to make 2017 the best year yet. Use the hashtag #2017IRL, and your tweet could be featured on our app.
Become The First Simultaneous President Of The USSR, Great Britain, And Germany
We're not entirely sure of the year the great Cambridge mathematician Godfrey Hardy — one of the most brilliant minds of the 20th century — wrote his famous list of resolutions, but it was likely some time in the 1930s. And it didn't exactly aim low. It went as follows: "1) Prove the Riemann Hypothesis; 2) Make 211 not out on the fourth innings of the last Test Match at the Oval; 3) Find an argument for the non-existence of God which would convince the general public; 4) Be the first man on top of Mt Everest; 5) Be proclaimed the first President of the USSR, Great Britain, and Germany, and 6) Murder Mussolini." You can't say he aimed low. (Hardy never did prove the Riemann Hypothesis, but his pupil Ramanujan did)
Be A Courteous & Kind Theatre Critic
A much-derided musical, You'll See Stars, opened on Broadway on December 29, 1942 — and closed three days later. In that time, the celebrated critic Louis Kronenberg had to review it, and protested that it contravened his New Year's resolution, which was to be "kind and courteous," due to its sheer misery. Kronenberg also claimed that the play's poor quality made him absent himself from the second act to "drink poison." That was an exaggeration — though perhaps the Stars cast hoped it wasn't.
Lock Yourself In A Basement
J.M. Coetzee won the Nobel Prize for Literature, but his beginnings as a writer were perhaps a little bit less auspicious. According to to his biography, on January 1, 1970, "shortly before his thirtieth birthday, Coetzee carried out a New Year's resolution by locking himself into the basement of his house at 24 Parker Avenue in Buffalo, New York, wearing boots and a coat, and vowing that he would not emerge until he had written a thousand words." The approach worked, but shouldn't possibly be considered the normal route to Nobel glory.
Nothing
If you're going to ask a famously nihilistic writer to contribute to your newspaper, you'd better be prepared for what you get. The Times learnt this to their cost (or their delight) in 1984, when they asked the celebrated Samuel Beckett to contribute his own resolutions for the New Year. They received a now-famous telegram:
"resolutions colon zero stop period hopes colon zero stop beckett”
Well, that's what you get.
Check out the "You IRL" stream in the Bustle App every day in January for daily tips on how to have an empowering 2017.