IN AESOP’S FABLE, The Fox and the Grapes, the main character is trying to pluck fruits off the vine which prove to be beyond his reach. He justifies his failure to pluck his prize by telling himself, “What a fool I am… wearing myself out to get a bunch of sour grapes.”
The phrase “sour grapes” thus refers to hiding disappointment by belittling the elusive prize beyond reach as undeserving of any further effort.
It is not enough to declare the grapes as sour. This loser also disparages the one who successfully snatches the prize. (I hope he likes pickles.) This same sentiment of justifying defeat as a more acceptable fate than victory also underlies the sentiment behind the phrase, “blessing in disguise.” Can losing a contest lead to unexpected benefits down the road?
An extreme case of denigrating the sought-after prize is the “poisoned chalice.” In this case, the winner, say a bidder quoting too high a price for an acquisition, is stuck with a deadly drink.
A missed target like a bunch of grapes is only maligned if it’s out of reach even with a skip and a jump. (Have you tried a ladder?) Expressing disappointment at missing a last-second shot is something else. There is no disparaging of the prize or even a belittling of the winner’s trophy.
Only when a failed attempt is dismissed as a fruitless effort does the fable of the fox and the sour grapes apply. And yet, this mind-set can invite derision when there are successful contestants who got the prize and found the fruits sweeter than expected. The griper then is dismissed as a simple loser.
Soothing the wounded spirit sometimes requires some conviction. Okay, maybe somebody else got those grapes, not with a simple jump but with a ladder. The resort to believing in some unfair advantage was employed by the winner can soothe the bruised ego. Politicians who lose in an electoral contest rarely admit unworthiness in defeat. There are just too many claims of electoral cheating.
Losing in any game or competition requires coping strategies to get one through the day. The stress dealt by failing to snatch a coveted prize requires rebuilding self-esteem.
Sour graping seems to be preferred because it is a simple coping strategy. When losing a job, is the sour grape far behind? In retrospect, the once treasured routine is perceived as too stressful, requiring long work hours, with routine condescension from the boss. (Of course it paid the bills.)
The characterization of the unattainable prize as disagreeable transforms even a forced exit into a kind of liberation. (Now, I can focus on my stamp collection.)
“Sour-grapes” as a way of being reconciled with defeat does not apply when there is admission of real misery arising from missing the desired goal, a trophy still tantalizing in its elusiveness. Melancholy affirms that the prize not won is painfully lost.
Perhaps the most disagreeable aspect of sour grapes is the need to undermine the character of one who got the fruits. He is depicted as pathetic for exerting too much effort to bag a fruit not good enough to even be juiced. The fox does not keep these thoughts to himself. He needs to share them with a bigger audience, maybe online.
Isn’t this why celebrities in many fields are undermined by the whiners who disparage them as unworthy of their exalted positions? The foxes have to add that the acquired fame is not even worth talking about.
Still, a sore loser can simply be dismissed as a sour grape. Accepting defeat gracefully is the first step to moving on. There is always a next time if one is not too absorbed in failing to snatch the current prize.
Maybe grapes that are tantalizingly beyond reach can be replaced by lower hanging fruits further down the road. There are even vegetables readily accessible to a disappointed fox.
What about potatoes that can easily be picked off the ground? These may even be naturally sweet. They may still need to be boiled, peeled, and then eaten in peace. There’s no need to even talk about the bypassed grapes, and whether they were sweet or sour after all.
Tony Samson is chairman and CEO of TOUCH xda.


