Saturday, February 28, 2009
Remarkably dim ...
... Sex, war and stupidity.
Potts and Hayden assert that the Allies won the war in part because of ‘Churchill’s quite illogical and very ape-like refusal to believe that he could ever be defeated’. I am not making this up; they really wrote that down (on page 186).
I'd give it a B ...
... The crisis of credit visualized.
I think it is a serious shortcoming that it leaves out the extent to which government - and especially Congress - contributed to the problem. That aside, I pretty much agree with the post.
Classic voices ...
... And They Could Sing, Too. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
It's especially revealing that the songwriters who made them all took great care to ensure that the words came across with perfect clarity. Even Arlen and Rodgers, who wrote only the music to their songs, went well out of their way to make the most of the lyrics of their distinguished collaborators, while Porter turns out to have been a demon for textual precision.
A single wish ...
... What Draws Some Writers to the Short Story?--Barthelme and O'Connor. (Hat tip. Lee Lowe.)
As Frederic Jameson has reminded us, short tales have a kind of "atemporal and object-like unity in the way they convert existence into a sudden coincidence between two systems: a resolution of multiplicity into unity, or a fulfillment of a single wish.” It is a basic human wish that the short story perhaps fulfills better than the novel. According to Hayden White, we desire to have real events “display the coherence, integrity, fullness, and closure of an image of life that is and can only be imaginary. The notion that sequences of real events possess the formal attributes of the stories we tell about imaginary events could only have its origin in wishes, daydreams, reveries.”
What it's about ...
... look at the images, read the words, listen to the glorious sounds - and thank God for Gustav Mahler.
Don't tread on me ...
... the real spirit of America seems to be alive and well: Tea Party Update. And gee, the media is starting to notice. If it makes the wires, even The Inquirer may catch on.
This is worth more attention than what the talking heads blather about and what you may read about in NYRB (that means you, Bryan - now that you've got the boots, it's time you became a redneck like me).
And just to scare the hell out of everybody, there's this:
This is worth more attention than what the talking heads blather about and what you may read about in NYRB (that means you, Bryan - now that you've got the boots, it's time you became a redneck like me).
And just to scare the hell out of everybody, there's this:
A glimmer of hope ...
... Can Newspapers Survive? Only if they work harder to earn and maintain respect (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
... what if the critiques have merit? Goldberg's anti-media broadsides may be over the top, but his basic argument—that the liberal politics of most journalists influence media coverage, not because journalists don't strive to be objective but because their cultural milieu influences their perceptions of objectivity—has a great deal of truth to it. Few people doubt that Barack Obama got breaks from the press. And there are well-documented instances of media bias leading to sloppy reporting, with journalists all but recycling the press releases of advocacy groups on such issues as domestic violence, homelessness, or the perils of gun ownership. The press has been the target of unfair criticism, but it cannot be absolved of blame for the damage to its reputation.
Another birthday
... the great Michel de Montaigne.
Every one rushes elsewhere and into the future, because no one wants to face one's own inner self.
I care not so much what I am to others as what I am to myself. I will be rich by myself, and not by borrowing.
Happy birthday ...
... to Peter Stothard, editor of what remains the gold standard among literary reviews.
Friday, February 27, 2009
My kind of guy ...
... more so than I had thought: The Anti-Green Ecologist. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I should note that I've always liked the Gaia theory. In fact, one of my favorite notions is that a divine being might very well appear to us, from our point of view, as an immensely distant and huge sphere of continuously exploding gases.
He deeply loves the landscape that has been intensively managed by people since time out of mind and that he has watched over the course of his life being destroyed by mechanised agriculture. Now, what's left is being obliterated by hundreds of thousands of acres of crops to produce biofuels, and the views are being ruined by gigantic windmills.
Lovelock blames this destruction on "urban imperialist infiltrators" who know nothing of the beauties of plants and animals or the pleasures of country life and who have been duped by the Greens into thinking that the worst things imaginable are trace pesticides in their food, or electricity provided by politically incorrect sources. As a countryman who is passionate about the country and who sees citification as the greatest threat to what is best in being human, Lovelock draws on a much deeper stream of Western culture than is present in his Gaia theory. He partakes of the tradition represented by Henry Williamson and J. R. R. Tolkien in England in the 20th century and by Coleridge and Wordsworth in the 19th.
I should note that I've always liked the Gaia theory. In fact, one of my favorite notions is that a divine being might very well appear to us, from our point of view, as an immensely distant and huge sphere of continuously exploding gases.
Good question ...
... Tea Party Protests Sweep the Country: But What’s the Message?
More than 400 years ago, the philosopher Etienne de la Boetie wrote of this phenomenon in his Discourse on Voluntary Servitude. Speaking of Rome in the time of emperors, he said:
I link to this for two reasons. One is that, so far as I can tell, people who get their news only from newspapers and TV don't seem to know this is happening, but most of all because of this quote from Montaigne's dear friend Etienne de la Boetie:
More than 400 years ago, the philosopher Etienne de la Boetie wrote of this phenomenon in his Discourse on Voluntary Servitude. Speaking of Rome in the time of emperors, he said:
Tyrants would distribute largess, a bushel of wheat, a gallon of wine, and a sesterce: and then everybody would shamelessly cry, “Long live the King!” The fools did not realize that they were merely recovering a portion of their own property, and that their ruler could not have given them what they were receiving without having first taken it from them. … The mob has always behaved in this way — eagerly open to bribes that cannot be honorably accepted and dissolutely callous to degradation and insult that cannot be honorably endured.
Blow by blow ...
... An Opinionated Play-by-Play of the Plantinga-Dennett Exchange. (Hat tip, Dave Lull, who also sends along this: The Recent Dennett-Plantinga A. P. A. Debate and the Question of Tone in Philosophy.
This is worrisome:
This is worrisome:
I prefer to remain anonymous for various reasons, in particular because I am inclined towards Plantinga's position over Dennett's and were this to become well-known it could damage or destroy my career in analytic philosophy. This is something I prefer not to put my family through. I almost didn't publish these comments at all, but as far as I could tell, this would be the only public record of the discussion.Friends, if you can identify me, I request that you keep my identity secret. I am sharing my thoughts as a service to the philosophical community and all those who have an interest in such debates. But I prefer not to suffer at the hands of my ardently secular colleagues. This is not to say that all secular analytic philosophers are this way; they most certainly are not. But enough of them are that I cannot risk being known publicly.
Old order changeth ...
... `I Like to Live in a Good Age'. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
The age of the professional writer may well be coming to an end, but I am not sure that this necessarily presages "the coming of a new Dark Age for literacy and literature." After all, quite a bit of great literature was created before people could make a living from their pens simply by selling the product thereof. Think of it this way. If Emily Dickinson had had a PC, she might well have gained recognition in her lifetime. Also, huge amounts of forgettable writing may not be written - simply because there is no longer a market for it and also because people who wrote only because there was money in it won't bother to anymore. But one is thing is certain: As far as writing is concerned, the times sure are a-changin'.
Very interesting ...
... Isn't Issuu cool?
See also 7 Cases to Show You How Digital Publishing Does Not Compete With Print.
See also 7 Cases to Show You How Digital Publishing Does Not Compete With Print.
... on the web, free is by far the most successful approach: Show people something they want to see, then find a way to make money from that attention. Not the other way around, which, I'm afraid, most publishers are accustomed to ...
The latest batch ...
... of TLS Letters: Iran and the West, Catherine's bedside book, 'Superfluis verbis', and more.
Who says ...
... there isn't good news? The New York Times warns us: bad days ahead for La Boheme.
For long-time residents, the return to pre-boom rents may be a blessing. But it also poses a rattling question of identity: What happens to bourgeois bohemia when the bourgeois part drops out?
Who the hell cares? I moved to my neighborhood because it was like the working-class neighborhood I was born into. I wasn't expecting it to be boutiqued - and didn't want it to be.
Truly himself ...
... Stephen Spender's Jewish roots.
See also A Nice Bloody Fool.
I met him once. He seemed a genuinely kind person. Surely that is worthy of praise.
See also A Nice Bloody Fool.
I met him once. He seemed a genuinely kind person. Surely that is worthy of praise.
Independent journalist ...
... that's John Tierney: Politics in the Guise of Pure Science. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
A different kind of shelter ...
... "The Soloist" resonates in homeless community. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
The greatness business ...
Poetic greatness has recently become a subject of much discussion. I should have confined myself to what I said here: Not to worry ... But I didn't. So ...
As that earlier post was meant to imply, I don't think we are in a position to decide who is the greatest poet of our era. That takes the perspective of time. When we declare a contemporary poet to be the greatest we are just saying that the poet in question is our favorite. I suppose my two favorite contemporary poets are John Ashbery and Kay Ryan. Asked to choose between them, I would choose Ryan. It's a matter of temperament. Her outlook and style - in particular its concision - are slightly more in tune with mine than his. When I initially encountered Ryan's poetry, it was love at first sight and nothing has changed since.
Bryan Appleyard has described himself as a craven fan of Ashbery's (what other way of being a fan is there?). I think this in part is because Bryan is extremely sensitive to the purely musical dimension of poetry and Ashbery's usually sounds gorgeous. But there is good deal more to it than that, as this John Ashbery Review of his makes plain. One of the things that makes that review so good is the intensely personal nature of the repsonse it conveys. That is how great poetry is supposed to affect people. Bryan also senses that, beneath Ashbery's blithe surface, there runs a darker current that may well be tragic.
Bryan Appleyard has described himself as a craven fan of Ashbery's (what other way of being a fan is there?). I think this in part is because Bryan is extremely sensitive to the purely musical dimension of poetry and Ashbery's usually sounds gorgeous. But there is good deal more to it than that, as this John Ashbery Review of his makes plain. One of the things that makes that review so good is the intensely personal nature of the repsonse it conveys. That is how great poetry is supposed to affect people. Bryan also senses that, beneath Ashbery's blithe surface, there runs a darker current that may well be tragic.
Speaking of greatness ...
... Either/Orr.
I enjoy Ashbery enough, but let's be honest: Deep is not Ashbery's shtick. Caparisons are odorous, as Dogberry said, so I'll not get into guessing who is greater than whom. I do think there's more heft to Wilbur's work - and easily as much music. Bear in mind, too, that Daniel Hoffman and Louis Simpson are still around.
Clarification: I can't bear to think of Bryan hyperventilating. In putting it the way I did, what I was clumsily trying to say is that Ashbery doesn't obviously put on airs of profundity (hence my use of "shtick"). Neither did Frank O'Hara. Both adopt a casual, almost breezy manner. This actually makes a good many of Ashbery's recent poems especially moving. Still, I don't pick up Ashbery when I want the sort of thing R.S. Thomas provides. But I meant no denigration of Ashbery and should perhaps have simply defended him.
Post bumped.
Clarification: I can't bear to think of Bryan hyperventilating. In putting it the way I did, what I was clumsily trying to say is that Ashbery doesn't obviously put on airs of profundity (hence my use of "shtick"). Neither did Frank O'Hara. Both adopt a casual, almost breezy manner. This actually makes a good many of Ashbery's recent poems especially moving. Still, I don't pick up Ashbery when I want the sort of thing R.S. Thomas provides. But I meant no denigration of Ashbery and should perhaps have simply defended him.
Post bumped.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Anthony Burgess, composer ...
this is on now. Post bumped.
... in addition to be an estimable writer, Burgess was also a composer. You can hear his music tonight at 7 p.m. (CST) on a webcast from The Ransom Center of the University of Texas: Music from the Collections: Anthony Burgess. I know I'll be tuning in.
Here's the news release:
... in addition to be an estimable writer, Burgess was also a composer. You can hear his music tonight at 7 p.m. (CST) on a webcast from The Ransom Center of the University of Texas: Music from the Collections: Anthony Burgess. I know I'll be tuning in.
Here's the news release:
Performance of Music Composed By Anthony Burgess to Be Webcast
Event: The Harry Ransom Center hosts a "Music from the Collections" event with Alan Roughley, executive director of the International Anthony Burgess Foundation, and pianist Dianne O'Hara as they read and perform works by Anthony Burgess.
When: 7 p.m. (C.S.T.) on Feb. 26.
Where: Harry Ransom Center, 21st and Guadalupe streets.
Background: Readings include segments of "A Clockwork Orange," "This Man and Music," "Nothing Like the Sun" and more. The musical performance will feature "Preludes 1-6," "Tango," "Rhapsody" and "2 Preludes and Fugues," among others.
This program will be webcast.
Few people realize the author of "A Clockwork Orange" was also an accomplished and respected modern composer and visual artist. The Ransom Center holds a significant collection of Burgess materials, including manuscripts of some of the works to be performed. Learn more about the Burgess materials.
A must -read ...
... God is not beyond. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Another must-read is Wiman's Ambition and Survival: Becoming a Poet, a splendid book.It is no blasphemy to say that each of us creates the God who is creating us. We are facets of a work whose finished form we cannot imagine, though our imaginations, aided by grace, are the means of its completion.
Wood on Durrell
Alexandria
Difficult going
I've always felt that reading Justine is a bit like reading The Waves: one understands little, and yet one recognizes unquestionable bits of literary genius. The same might be said of Michael Wood's recent review of Lawrence Durrell's Quartet, except that, as I made clear in a letter to the London Review, Wood's essay is so unreadable that any specks of insight are clouded by an unyielding opacity.
Difficult going
I've always felt that reading Justine is a bit like reading The Waves: one understands little, and yet one recognizes unquestionable bits of literary genius. The same might be said of Michael Wood's recent review of Lawrence Durrell's Quartet, except that, as I made clear in a letter to the London Review, Wood's essay is so unreadable that any specks of insight are clouded by an unyielding opacity.
Amen, Nige ...
... Cycling: How It Should Be Done.
See also Seeing Mimosas and Byzantium: Queuing for the Ladder
We have the same problem. I feel far more threatened by lawless cyclists than dimwitted motorists.
See also Seeing Mimosas and Byzantium: Queuing for the Ladder
and Who's Watts?
Most unfortunate ...
... That Sinking Feeling. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Mr. Nugent decries the regimentation of "ill-mannered watermen" who once did business by handshake and lived by codes that an outsider might appreciate but could never really understand. He and his dockmates prefer the yesterdays when "every fisherman was an independent cuss working alongside an independent cuss who happened to own a boat. It worked damn good for a hundred years." Another of Mr. Nugent's characters, the superannuated mob fixer Pink, worries that small-scale commercial fishing is going the way of whaling and that soon, in Mr. Nugent's typically pungent paraphrase, "the docks will turn into some sort of Sturbridge Village by the Sea, sanitized and saltless, with college boys pretending to be deckhands and former pencil pushers posing as captains."
RIP ...
... Philip Jose Farmer, science fiction author, dies.
... Humble at home, Farmer enjoyed international fame.
(Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
... Humble at home, Farmer enjoyed international fame.
(Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Minority report ...
... from the great Joseph Epstein: A dissent on the 'valedictocracy.
Like Gadarene swine, the putatively best of American colleges have rushed to take on the worst of intellectual freight. Behind the much-vaunted notion of diversity in contemporary universities is the attempt to make sure that no corpus of bad ideas isn't amply represented. In this attempt, the top universities have succeeded admirably.
More than casinos ...
... the Las Vegas Weekly has a pretty good book page. (Note that Ed Pettit and John Freeman, both of whom reviewed for me, are there.)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Naked for sure ...
... but I'm not sure how strong: Naked Strong Evaluation. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
This is a deeply thoughtful piece, a model of its kind, and deserves to be readfullu and pondered long. Here are a couple of things I thought on a first read.
This is a deeply thoughtful piece, a model of its kind, and deserves to be readfullu and pondered long. Here are a couple of things I thought on a first read.
In a religious worldview, one can say that what grounds one’s commitment to treating people decently is that the will of God makes everyone sacred. But then what grounds one’s belief in God? We have moved from one shaky foundation to another; there is no gain in confidence.Which brings to mind this:
... what could be the cause of being as being? Certainly not a being of the universe. For whatever being one would want to indicate as the cause of being as being, it would always be a participating being, a contingent being and, therefore, a caused being. Being, however, is not the cuase-of-being, for it is caused-being. Precisely under the aspects under which it would be indicated as the cause of being - namely, as being - it is not cause but caused, because it is participating and contingent-being. ... Nothing appears much simpler as soon as it is understood that the universe, conceived as the universality of all beings does not have the ground "to be" in itself. However, there is not nothing. There are beings, the universe is. Being is being-caused, being-under-the-influence-of-something-else; therefore it is excluded that this "influencing reality" would not be, for otherwise nothing would be. But something is.
- William A. Luijpen, Existential Phenomenology
There certainly is something mysterious about strong evaluation in a materialistic universe. The Transcendent Something toward which all this points is, however, obscure.Which brings to mind this:
But if the stuff of the universe that we know directly is mind, and matter is the same thing known only by means of conceptual symbols created by mind, it would seem as reasonable to call that part of reality mind as to call it matter. And matter, even crude matter, is not what it was. It has turned into energy, and the atom has become a pattern and the molecule a pattern of patterns, till all the different physical substances and their behaviour have come to be regarded as the outcome of their primitive components. But we have already met with pattern in the nervous system, underlying and rendering possible the most fundamental characteristics of mind. And pattern in some mysterious way possesses a life of its own, for it can survive a change in the identity of its component parts as long as its structure remains the same. ... The pattern of our personalities though it changes slowly remains substantially the same, though every protein molecule in the body, including the nervous system, is changed three times a year. The ingredients have altered but not the structure. ... This world surely is very different from the world of the older materialists.
- W. Russell Brain, Mind, Perception and Science
Churn it out ...
... More is more. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Well, Somerset Maugham said that you cannot write well unless you write much, but I wonder about that composer data. Debussy and Ravel do not seem to have been especially prolific, but what they produced is almost always of high quality. Mahler wrote comparatively few large-scale works. Wallace Stevens's collected poems fills a single large volume.
Maybe ...
... there's a simpler explanation: The I’s Have It. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
... why do so many scofflaws keep using “I” instead of “me”? Perhaps it’s because they were scolded as children for saying things like “Me want candy” instead of “I want candy,” so they began to think “I” was somehow more socially acceptable. Or maybe it’s because they were admonished against “it’s me.” Anybody who’s had “it is I” drummed into his head is likely to avoid “me” on principle, even when it’s right. The term for this linguistic phenomenon is “hypercorrection.” A related crime that Mr. Obama stands accused of is using “myself” to dodge the “I”-versus-“me” issue, as when he spoke last November of “a substantive conversation between myself and the president.”
Or, a fondness for the first person singular and the intensive myself may simply reflect egoism. I would add that just because there are precedents for these usages doesn't necessarily justify them. Incorrect speaking and writing take place all the time. There still remains correct speaking and writing. Shakespeare created characters - their mode of speech may reflect their standards, not his.
School days ...
... Clearing Away Dead Wood? (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Well, one does not have to agree with everything James Wood says. But what he says is always worth considering. I'm not even sure he thinks of himself as representing a school of criticism. As I have said here a number of times, poetry is what poets do. There are a lot of different poets doing a lot different kinds of poetry. The same is true of fiction and the writers of fiction.
Just about right ...
... I would say: On the Nature of faith: Part 1. (Hat tips to Henry Gee and Dave Lull.)
I have said here at some time or other that science is about finding natural explanations for natural phenomena. Oddly, as I was reading Richard's post, the first sign of an objection came when he described faith as a response to revelation. My own faith seems grounded in some sense of, as Wordsworth would have it, "A presence that disturbs me with the joy / Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime / Of something far more deeply interfused, ... A motion and a spirit, that impels / All thinking things, all objects of all thought, /And rolls through all things." This sense has been with me for as long as I can remember. So when I first read "Tintern Abbey," I felt I knew what Wordsworth was talking about. I feel this as well with much "official" revelation - though a good chunk of the Bible I find devoid of any intimation of it. I find a good deal of the Old Testament, in fact, repellent. I also find there is much that seems "revelatory" to me in the Tao te ching, the Upanishads, and the fragments of Heraclitus. So, for me, revelation is less something I respond to than something I find confirms an intensely personal experience, an intuition I have had for as long as I have been able to reflect.
This detail aside, I am fundamentally in agreement with what Richard says.
This detail aside, I am fundamentally in agreement with what Richard says.
A poet speaks ...
... Adam Kirsch on Seamus Heaney: In the Word-Hoard. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Heaney was not yet forty years old when Robert Lowell proclaimed him "the best Irish poet since W.B. Yeats," but already he was no stranger to anointings. The oldest of nine children, he grew up on a farm in Northern Ireland, and the labors and pleasures of that rural life have been an inexhaustible subject for his verse. At the age of twelve, Heaney was sent off to a Catholic boarding school, St. Columb's College, whereupon "I shifted," he recalls, "into a kind of separateness, but also a kind of privilege." "I was being 'educated,' and that meant being set a bit apart."
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Urban Design
As much as I love Philadelphia, there is much to be said for the theory that highly regulated cultural spaces become stale spaces. Witness the zone between City Hall and the Museum. We have much to learn from Paris (and Haussman).
OK by me ...
... Giving Up Certainty for Lent.
"He did not think I was going mad; on the contrary, I think he envied me. It seemed he thought there was nothing strange about the idea that a resurrected Christ should suddenly pop up and start walking around the heart of Hackney, made obvious to those who were open to seeing him."
Nige and I ...
... already know this, of course: TO RAMBLE.
The greatest example of the attitude I am describing is the French flâneur.
Flâneur literally means stroller or idler, and, in the nineteenth
century, came to describe an elegant kind of gentlemanly moocher, who
ambled purposelessly through the Parisian arcades, watching, waiting,
hanging around. His hero was Baudelaire, as an anti-bourgeois who had
somehow freed himself from wage slavery and was at liberty to wander thestreets with no particular place to go.
I don't know about the mooching.
One the one hand ...
... or on the other: I used to be indecisive ...
I tend to decide only when I have to, and then to go with whatever my hunch is. To decide, of course, means to cut off debate.
Neglected masterpiece ...
... at least I think it is (neglected, that is; I have no doubt it is a masterwork). I refer to Constant Lambert's ballet Horoscope, which I first heard when I was in high school. It strangely affected me and I never forgot it. I was just listening to it and have now found that there is a recording of Lambert conducting it. It is beautifully romantic and sad. It is sad also that it is not better known. Lambert died at 45, as did his son, Kit Lambert, who was the manager of The Who.
Here is an excellent piece by Terry Teachout on Lambert: A British Bad Boy Finds His Way Back Into the Light.
Here is an excellent piece by Terry Teachout on Lambert: A British Bad Boy Finds His Way Back Into the Light.
Though these witty, elegantly scored works (all of which have been recorded by Hyperion) are few in number, their uneasy mixture of high spirits and intense melancholy is utterly individual. No young English composer of the 30's, not even his friend William Walton, had a more personal style.Post bumped.
I have the feeling ...
... she's right: Michiko’s Not Buying It.
More here and here. (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke.)
Can't say I'm impressed by the defense, with its ad hominem attack on Kakutani.
Post bumped.
More here and here. (Hat tip, Maxine Clarke.)
Can't say I'm impressed by the defense, with its ad hominem attack on Kakutani.
Post bumped.
Luckily for me ...
... I don't much like games: How to Waste all Your Time.
I did, however, remember 13 of Dickens's novels - and discovered two I don't remember ever having heard of - and got all 16 philosophers right.
I did, however, remember 13 of Dickens's novels - and discovered two I don't remember ever having heard of - and got all 16 philosophers right.
Popular stylist ...
... Damon Runyon’s guys and dolls. (Hat tip, Paul Davis.)
It was only slowly, and over time, that he insinuated himself into the night world that he made his own best subject. His method was a simple form of Broadway Zen: he went to Lindy’s, then an all-night Jewish deli on Broadway, and sat. “I am the sedentary champion of the city,” he explained. “In order to learn anything of importance, I must remain seated. Why I am the best is that I can last an entire day without causing a chair to squeak.” It seems to have been true ... Basically, Runyon spent the twenties absorbing the material he would use in the thirties.Writers today should get out more and try that.
They would rather be green ...
... than free: All the Leaves are Brown.
Ted Nordhaus and Michael Shellenberger, self-described "progressives" and authors of one of the most challenging recent books on the environment, Break Through: From the Death of Environmentalism to the Politics of Possibility, recognize and lament the authoritarianism of conventional environmentalism. "Environmental tales of tragedy begin with Nature in harmony and almost always end in quasi-authoritarian politics," Nordhaus and Shellenberger observe. While environmentalists like Eckersley embrace the postmodern language of "privilege" to denigrate traditional individual rights, Nordhaus and Shellenberger point up the obvious irony that it is environmentalism that is making the boldest claim to be given the most privileged position in politics: "The problem is not simply that it is difficult to answer the question ‘Who speaks for nature?' but rather that there is something profoundly wrong with the question itself. It rests on the premise that some people are better able to speak for nature, the environment, or a particular place than others. This assumption is profoundly authoritarian."
If newspapers ...
... were really plugged into what's going on and made it their business to tell us about it, they'd be paying more attention to this: Feel the anger.
Of course they would probably oppose it, and report it in such a way as to put it in the worst light posssible. The Inquirer, though, which hasn't made any of its loan payments lately, would certainly find itself in an awkward position.
Of course they would probably oppose it, and report it in such a way as to put it in the worst light posssible. The Inquirer, though, which hasn't made any of its loan payments lately, would certainly find itself in an awkward position.
You have been warned ...
... How China Censors Blogs. (Hat tip, Rus Bowden.)
And if you think it can't hapen hear, let me tell you about this bridge ...
And if you think it can't hapen hear, let me tell you about this bridge ...
Anatomy of a Painting
Vermeer's "Girl with a Red Hat" gets a compelling inspection from Philadelphia artist, Dean Rohrer.
Dissecting two mistakes ...
... PAPERLESS BOOKS. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I think that's about right.
In terms of writers, the necessary skills will vary widely, from old-timers telling stories to the careful and intricate written sentences of a highbrow novel. There will be a new category of something like “wordsmith techie,” supplying things like the throb of a heart or a ship engine. Authors might have their keyboard setup on one wall and a sound-mixing board on another. Some, of course, will make the leap into pure video and not use words at all -- just concepts expressed in images and sound.
I think that's about right.
In case you wondered ...
... and you know many of you have: How to Publish in a Recession: Godine's David R. Godine.
Just trying to help ...
... this is pretty funny (at least if your sense of humor is as warped as mine): Pass on the Good Life.
Me again ...
... my latest column is up: Maybe man is the ‘imagining animal’.
I think it only fair to mention that over the weekend my friend Dave Lull and I exchanged emails about this column and that Dave's sharp questions and observations enabled me to get a clearer idea of what I was driving at. The sentence that begins the above excerpt came about entirely because of that. So my thanks to Dave for taking the time to help me with this.
... by imagining I do not mean merely the formation of images in our minds, but rather that process by which we take such images and the ideas we abstract from them and the feelings they generate in us and arrange them coherently and harmoniously into something new, in much the same way as the combination of two molecules of hydrogen and one of oxygen becomes a compound that is altogether different from either of its constituents by themselves. For all that we are hearing in this year of Darwin about a supposed connection between art and evolution, it seems worth noting that no other species has found it necessary for its survival to decorate a nest or lair with frescoes or adorn itself with jewelry or sit around and listen while one of their number sings a tale of bestial heroism or romance.
I think it only fair to mention that over the weekend my friend Dave Lull and I exchanged emails about this column and that Dave's sharp questions and observations enabled me to get a clearer idea of what I was driving at. The sentence that begins the above excerpt came about entirely because of that. So my thanks to Dave for taking the time to help me with this.
Imagine That (Imagining This)
This week, in his always delightful column for When Falls the Coliseum, "That's What He Said," Frank Wilson discourses upon the imagining individual's imagination (to expansive effect): "Maybe Man Is 'the Imagining Animal.'"
Monday, February 23, 2009
Quickie Atwood / Bedell Dubai Updata
Prolly a bit late with this; and, for that, I apologise; but, over the weekend, The Guardian featured a (characteristically droll) final few words from Ms. Margaret Atwood concerning the obfuscation and lack of clarification surrounding Ms. Geraldine Bedell's "banning" from the Inaugural Dubai Literary Festival and the alleged censorship ish that caused a great deal of grief for several undeserving parties.
Additionally? In a separate and complementary angle on "The Self-Promo Wrangle," Ms. Bedell had the noive to whine that Ms. Atwood didn't talk to *her* person-to-personally (as if, somehow, Ms. Atwood ought to have so done; we should all get so lucky). Quel fromage . . . One can only feel sorry for Ms. Bedell's publisher, given it's dealing with someone who's clearly, from my POV and IMO (only), one pencil short of a case.
Additionally? In a separate and complementary angle on "The Self-Promo Wrangle," Ms. Bedell had the noive to whine that Ms. Atwood didn't talk to *her* person-to-personally (as if, somehow, Ms. Atwood ought to have so done; we should all get so lucky). Quel fromage . . . One can only feel sorry for Ms. Bedell's publisher, given it's dealing with someone who's clearly, from my POV and IMO (only), one pencil short of a case.
Metaphysics - in fiction and essay
Having tonight finished my second collection of John Berger essays (this one, Photocopies), I found myself wishing that two authors were still with us: W.G. Sebald and Italo Calvino. To sit Berger at a table with Sebald (Austerlitz) and Calvino (Invisible Cities) would be a treat, indeed: for all three were masters, as I see it, of that fleeting, philosophical moment.
Time to welcome ...
... this blog's newest contributor. Jesse Freedman has already published a few posts and I expect he will publish a good many more. Jesse used to review for me when I was at The Inquirer. He is a graduate of Oxford and teaches at Friends Select School (are we going upscale or what?).
Books, Politics, and the Question of the Middle East
An unwelcome guest?
Earlier this winter, The London Review presented its readers with a cover, the contents of which are unlikely to find their way towards the front (or even middle) of a comparable publication in the States. I continue to be fascinated by the distinction between the American and European 'Left,' particularly as it plays out in the realm of literary and cultural analysis.
Earlier this winter, The London Review presented its readers with a cover, the contents of which are unlikely to find their way towards the front (or even middle) of a comparable publication in the States. I continue to be fascinated by the distinction between the American and European 'Left,' particularly as it plays out in the realm of literary and cultural analysis.
In defense of ...
... accessible knowledge: Librarian Opposes Google's Library Fees. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
A day late ...
... but happy birthday, Arthur: A Reading for Schopenhauer's Birthday. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Life writ small ...
... The Evolution of Art. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Well, other species survive and produce offspring and do it without grasping logic or spontaneously acquiring language (presuming we did acquire language spontaneously).
We enjoy sex, grasp facial expressions, understand logic and spontaneously acquire language—all of which make it easier for us to survive and produce children.
Well, other species survive and produce offspring and do it without grasping logic or spontaneously acquiring language (presuming we did acquire language spontaneously).
We tell stories, sing songs, invent tales, recount jokes and draw pictures in order to find a mate and, having found one, produce children.
Really? Seems a stretch to me. Moreover, it reduces the point of life to mere survival. We live because we live because we live. What a small-minded view of life.
Not to worry ...
... David Orr on The Great(ness) Game.
... Edward Byrne comments: Rating Great Poets and Considering Contemporary Concerns.
... Edward Byrne comments: Rating Great Poets and Considering Contemporary Concerns.
I think it's worth noting that in, say, 1880, an article discussing greatness in American poetry would probably have given short shrift to Walt Whitman and would not have mentioned Emily Dickinson at all. A look at a poetry anthology published in 1950 would reveal much about the evanescence of poetic fame (which is not the same thing as poetic greatness).
The Beatles ...
... as you never knew them: Then and Now.
Take the Beatles' song "A Day in the Life", in which, Professor Mellers states, "the verse section is without modulation, except in so far as its pentatonic-tending E minor acquires tight, Phrygian F naturals". This is not a piece of information that will interest all Beatle enthusiasts, but it is a fact which, when checked against the recording and totted up with all the many similar observations on other songs, quickly points up a revealing, perhaps even central, aspect of the Beatles' music as a whole: its ambiguous tonality.
Little is left to tell ...
... Philadelphia Newspapers Seeking Bankruptcy. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Phil, over at Brandywine Books, asks in a comment appended to an earlier post if I have any thoughts on this. And the answer, I guess, is in the title to this post. But take a look at today's front page. The only real news there is the story about the paper's filing for bankruptcy. Beyond that, the nearest thing to an interesting story is Carrie Rickey's piece about the Oscars. Once upon a time that story would have had a Hollywood dateline. What this story is about is a television broadcast. Carrie is a very good writer who knows her subject as well as anybody and can bring this sort of thing off with flair and aplomb - as she in fact does. But everybody who was interested in the Oscar broadcast watched it. One of the abiding problems with contemporary journalism - most obvious in the broadcast variety - is this insistence on providing commentary on what the rest of us have witnessed. The President gives a television address and immediately afterward a trio of talking heads pop up to tell us what he said. Well, I'm neither deaf nor blind. I saw him and heard what he said. And I can think for myself. Give Carrie a few days so she can write a real essay about the Oscars, and let her do it her way, don't tell her how you think it should be done. Trust me, you'd have something eminently worth reading that you couldn't possibly find anywhere else.
Anyway, scroll down the lefthand column and ask yourself how many of those stories are worth your time and money. This is what you get when your paper is run by the unadventurous and dull.
See also When Dinosaurs Smoked Cigarettes …
Anyway, scroll down the lefthand column and ask yourself how many of those stories are worth your time and money. This is what you get when your paper is run by the unadventurous and dull.
See also When Dinosaurs Smoked Cigarettes …
People still want news. They just don’t want the same news as everyone else has.
Not so easy ...
... Measuring success.
John Stuart Mill, of all people, said that the difference between eloquence and poetry is that eloquence is heard, poetry is overheard. I think for the writer of fiction and poetry the first order of the day is to get it down right. Each such writer is communicating first of all to himself. But, since general rules of grammar and usage are involved, what is produced is likely to communicate to certain others as well - who, as it were, overhear it.
John Stuart Mill, of all people, said that the difference between eloquence and poetry is that eloquence is heard, poetry is overheard. I think for the writer of fiction and poetry the first order of the day is to get it down right. Each such writer is communicating first of all to himself. But, since general rules of grammar and usage are involved, what is produced is likely to communicate to certain others as well - who, as it were, overhear it.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Two views ...
... of advanced placement English: AP English and literary knowledge and `A Discipline of Knowledge'.
Patrick writes, "Like David Myers I am a graduate of high-school Advanced Placement English classes, though my experience seems to have been more pleasurable and lastingly worthwhile than his." The reason for that would seem to be Jan Viscomi, further proof that we are educated not by schools or programs but by people, called teachers. Like Patrick, I didn't like The Return of the Native when I read it in high school, but when I read it again college (though I have an odd interpretation of it).
So you think poetry is dead, eh ...
... well, take a look at the number of comments attached to these posts: The Pee in the Pool of On Line Poetry, by Terreson and MARK’S MARVELLOUS MELON MONOLOGUE.
Seems like a pretty lively discussion to me.
Seems like a pretty lively discussion to me.
Time for ...
... Sunday Salon: A Place of Safety and Bloodprint.
While you're at it, check out these, too:
... A route to reading.
... Reacting to what is not there.
... Celebrating atomic beauty.
... Ten things to get over you. (Maxine and I occupy common ground.)
While you're at it, check out these, too:
... A route to reading.
... Reacting to what is not there.
... Celebrating atomic beauty.
... Ten things to get over you. (Maxine and I occupy common ground.)
Hollywood Novels
With the Oscars fast approaching, I thought it reasonable to note my inability to connect with two of the most enduring 'Hollywood novels': Waugh's The Loved One and Nathanael West's The Day of the Locust. The latter, which I recently finished, struck me as surprisingly incomplete. Of Faye Greener, in particular, much more, I felt, ought to have been written. Alfred Kazin loved the novel, but I found it - much like that typical Hollywood personality - curiously underdeveloped.
All things Poe ...
... lots of stuff over at Ed & Edgar.
Here's a podcast of Ed's talk: Ed Pettit, the “Philly Poe Guy”: Edgar Allan Poe and the Philadelphia Gothic Tradition.
Scroll down a bit and you can also listen to Christopher Looby, "The Paradox of Philadelphia Gothic."
I attended Ed's lecture at the Library Company of Philadelphia the other night and it was excellent. Ed is one the principal advocates for a view of Poe and other Philadelphia writers of his time that seriously challenges the conventional narrative of American literary history, according to which Poe was a kind of aberration. Actually, he seems to have been at the center of a major group of writers who could well be thought of as the ancestors of noir.
Here's a podcast of Ed's talk: Ed Pettit, the “Philly Poe Guy”: Edgar Allan Poe and the Philadelphia Gothic Tradition.
Scroll down a bit and you can also listen to Christopher Looby, "The Paradox of Philadelphia Gothic."
Boy, is this great ...
... and I had no idea before reading it who the hell Ricky Gervais was: Will Hollywood wipe the smile off Ricky Gervais's face?
Actually, this isn't journalism so much as a kind of nonfiction short story.
Actually, this isn't journalism so much as a kind of nonfiction short story.
I'm not sure ...
... I quite get it, but it sounds important: Was Einstein Wrong?: A Quantum Threat to Special Relativity. (Via Philosophy and Life: Worried about something.
The view from a chair ...
... A funny thing happened at the opticians.
Bonaventure thought of light as a metaphor for God. He argued that if God can be said to sustain the universe, then God would also have to be invisible in the universe. As God said to Moses, no-one can see God and live. It’s a bit like the notion of God as the ground of existence. If God is such a ground then God cannot be said to exist. Neither can God be said not to exist. God, like light, is somehow beyond existence, beyond seeing – ‘found’ only in the cloud of unknowing.Compare that to this:
... when the philosopher of existence calls man existence, he wants to express the view that being-conscious-in-the-world constitutes the essence of man. This being-conscious is that through which man is man and not a thing, a pure spirit, or a divine Being. Accordingly, we must say that things, pure spirits, and God do not exist, i.e., they are essentially distinct from man. Being-conscious-in-the-world constitutes what man essentially is. Man does not enter into the world because there happens to be a world and it is up to him to enter it or not or to withdraw from it at his discretion.
- William A. Luijpen, Existential Phenomenology
Very affecting ...
... The second time Mooger went crazy.
I have seen madness up close quite a few times. It is both heartbreaking and terrifying. It is not like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest or King of Hearts.
Splendid ...
... Willa Cather on The Novel Démeublé. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Tolstoi was almost as great a lover of material things as Balzac, almost as much interested in the way dishes were cooked, and people were dressed, and houses were furnished. But there is this determining difference; the clothes, the dishes, the moving, haunting interiors of those old Moscow houses, are always so much a part of the emotions of the people that they are perfectly synthesized; they seem to exist, not so much in the author's mind, as in the emotional penumbra of the characters themselves. When it is fused like this, literalness ceases to be literalness—it is merely part of the experience.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Not a fan myself ...
... but others were: Remembering Hunter S. Thompson, the writer not the caricature. (Hat tip, Paul Davis.)
Well, well ...
... Pop Music’s Perpetual Old Man, Now 74, Is Back on the Road. (Hat tip, Judith Fitzgerald, our very own prophetess.)
See also Poet of pleasure and pain leaves 'em swooning.
See also Poet of pleasure and pain leaves 'em swooning.
Harsh ...
... but probably true: A Flowering of Experiment. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
It isn't often that I agree with Gore Vidal. Indeed, this may be the only time.
Gore Vidal's verdict: "Mr. Barthelme is very deep into fiction's R and D (Research and Development) as opposed to the old-fashioned R and R (Rest and Recuperation)."
It isn't often that I agree with Gore Vidal. Indeed, this may be the only time.
Indeed ...
... Poetry means the world to us. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Case in point: Saturday Verse: Wallace Stevens (1879-1955).
And check out Dave's comment on this post to see how great minds think alike: [WHY, WHY, WHY?]
Case in point: Saturday Verse: Wallace Stevens (1879-1955).
And check out Dave's comment on this post to see how great minds think alike: [WHY, WHY, WHY?]
Don't be afraid ...
... “Lord with Me Abide”. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I try always to cast a cold eye on what scares me. So far, it's always worked.
I try always to cast a cold eye on what scares me. So far, it's always worked.
I fear it is true ...
... Literary Death Spiral? The Fading Book Section. (Hat tip, Dave Lull. who is as much a partner in this blog as anyone ever will be. )
The conventional wisdom is that book sections are dying because newspapers are. No, newspapers are dying in large part because they are killing off their book sections. Because the people managing newsrooms are uncultured louts, who think that that everybody else is interested in the same boring shit they are. Sorry, the rest of us have lives.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Good for him ...
... and them: Conservatives to Honor Liberal Icon George McGovern.
I voted for him in 1972. And I still think it was the right vote. (Surprised?)
McGovern may have been liberal, but Nixon was no conservative. And McGovern remains a decent, genuinely patriotic American.
McGovern may have been liberal, but Nixon was no conservative. And McGovern remains a decent, genuinely patriotic American.
Sounds interesting ...
... The Legacy of an Irish Father. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Queenan says he grew up in the projects here. I wonder which one.
I also kind of like his unforgiving attitude toward his father. I find more attractive than the usual sentimental blather you hear in such cases. On the other hand, his father "would often start declaiming in the words of Fitzgerald, Hemingway or Shakespeare" and "we always had books in the house." That's omething to thank th old man for.
My own father, I think, was just a common drunk. As was I.
My own father, I think, was just a common drunk. As was I.
We don't do rap a lot ...
... but I think this pretty good. (Hat tip, elberry.)
Give Me a Sign.
I dedicate this to Richard Dawkins.
Give Me a Sign.
I dedicate this to Richard Dawkins.
Minor Masterpiece
http://www.nybooks.com/shop/product?product_id=28
How rare a thing it is - the succesful novella. But that is what I uncovered - just last week - when sitting down to J.L. Carr's A Month in the Country. Published by NYRB and shortlisted for the Booker, Carr's lean, but endlessly poignant, account of one man's experiences following the First World War left me with a renewed appreciation not only for the novella, but for those with the ability to capture that complex relationship between memory and silence. Carr's work - like a number of NYRB titles - is well worth the afternoon's read. It is, as Rolling Stone said of Joseph Roth's Flight Without End, a "minor masterpiece."
How rare a thing it is - the succesful novella. But that is what I uncovered - just last week - when sitting down to J.L. Carr's A Month in the Country. Published by NYRB and shortlisted for the Booker, Carr's lean, but endlessly poignant, account of one man's experiences following the First World War left me with a renewed appreciation not only for the novella, but for those with the ability to capture that complex relationship between memory and silence. Carr's work - like a number of NYRB titles - is well worth the afternoon's read. It is, as Rolling Stone said of Joseph Roth's Flight Without End, a "minor masterpiece."
Basement, please ...
... The Muzak's over: It's the end for the most reviled phenomena of the 20th century. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I am blessed with an uncanny ability to block out ambient sounds, so it never bothered me much. But I do remember being puzzled once by the music playing in an elevator. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. Then it came to me: It was "Satisfaction," in a bizarrely soporific Muzak arrangement.
Maybe you can't ...
... go home again: Re-reading the literature of my youth.
I don’t know what I expected when I read “Farewell” again over 30 years later, but it has proven to be a huge disappointment.
I had a similar experience a few years ago when I tried to re-read Alain-Fournier's Le grand Meaulnes, which seemed to me utterly magical when I first read it in my teens. Back then, I was given to reading certain parts of it over and over. They were like incantations, turning my dreams almost into life. Reading it decades later, however, while I could still feel the magic on the page, it was as if some portal had been closed to me, and I could no longer participate. I did not belong there anymore.
Nice to know ...
... John Gibson Did Not Compare Eric Holder To Monkey With Bright Blue Scrotum (UPDATED).
Nice that they made the correction quickly. But it's also a good idea to check like that out before you link to it - you know, just in case.
Nice that they made the correction quickly. But it's also a good idea to check like that out before you link to it - you know, just in case.
Room at the top ...
... Koran and Bible Moved To the Top Shelves in U.K. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
Wonder where they put the Upanishads and the Tao Te Ching.
Wonder where they put the Upanishads and the Tao Te Ching.
Prize news ...
... Commonwealth prize shortlists announced.
I haven't read Kenneth J. Harvey's Blackstrap Hawco, but I reviewed his novel The Town That Forgot How to Breathe and thought it was great.
I haven't read Kenneth J. Harvey's Blackstrap Hawco, but I reviewed his novel The Town That Forgot How to Breathe and thought it was great.
This week's batch ...
... of TLS Letters, including Iran and the West, Contesting Pirenne, Obscene Belli, and more.
Good for her ...
... Atwood drops Dubai.
... and here's the latest: Atwood now hoping to attend Dubai festival 'virtually'.
... and here's the latest: Atwood now hoping to attend Dubai festival 'virtually'.
A mismatched couple ...
... and more: Siskel and Ebert and goodbye to all that.
"... when there are no standards, however imperfectly applied those standards might be, then there is no trust."
"... when there are no standards, however imperfectly applied those standards might be, then there is no trust."
But polls routinely indicate that the mainstream media has largely lost the public's trust, probably because of "all its tendentiousness, manipulativeness, arrogance, and inability to accept stray facts that don’t fit into its preconceived notions of a story." There's no mystery to winning trust: Be honest and trustworthy, look at things from as many angles as possible, try to get at the facts of the matter, and don't try to fit them into a preconceived narrative. If you need to refer to a synthetic code of ethics, such as those newspapers like to draw up, you're probably already a moral moron.
Birthday boy ...
... Happy birthday, Len Deighton: we need you now more than ever.
Just remember that Deighton and Michael Caine made guys with glasses sexy.
Just remember that Deighton and Michael Caine made guys with glasses sexy.
Oh, Yes She Said Yes He Will Yes
. . . [The Finishing Touch]'s plot, containing nothing of cold wars, or any wars, concerns only the arrival at the school (and hasty departure) of an English princess, her royal breast stung by a nasty local wasp, her headmistress's oral remedy caught by a contraband camera . . . Brigid Brophy's work attracted much thoughtful criticism in its day, but in 1963, no one saw the slightest connection between The Finishing Touch and the Blunt affair, Britain's greatest postwar spy scandal . . .
— TLS Editor Sir Peter Stothard lays it on the hi-pri spy-guy dreadline in this deft, distinguished, and distinctive re-examination of Brophy's lesbian-fantasist novel, the fifth "Buried Treasure" unearthed for The Globe and Mail's ongoing series of sadly neglected gems. The results? Hardcore brilliance, a diamond in the no-guff tough-enough pas-de-bluff finishing-school stuff.
P.S. Happy B-Day eight days early, Sir Peter [Rabbit] (since we're 'bout eight days late featuring this sublimely stun-thundrous cut-above great)
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Oh, no ...
... not the comfy chair (though in this case there isn't anything funny about it): Diary. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)
I think publishing, to a large extent, has the same problem that art museums and galleries have: They have lost the peculiar talent of the connoisseurs who made them in the first place. Most curators simply don't have the eye or the sensibility of a Duncan Phillips or and Isabella Stewart Gardner. Most publishers these days don't come close to Alfred Knopf when it comes to powers of literary discernment. The same is true of newspapers. The people running them these are distinctly inferior to Pulitzer and Hearst.
This is not to say that the book is doomed. But publishers will surely have to change the way they do business. A system that requires the trucking of vast quantities of paper to bookshops and then back to publishers’ warehouses for pulping is environmentally and commercially unsustainable. An industry that spends all its money on bookseller discounts and very little on finding an audience is getting things the wrong way round. Following the strictures of their accountants, the large houses will intensify their concentration on blockbusters. High street bookshops will abandon deep stockholding, becoming mere showrooms for bestsellers and prize-winners. Ever more people will read the same few books. The future of much of the industry will be dominated by electronic distribution, internet marketing to niche audiences, and reading by print-on-demand or hand-held electronic devices. There is opportunity as well as challenge in this model. The roles of editor and publicist, people who can guide the potential reader through the cacophony of background noise to words they’ll want to read, will become ever more important.
I think publishing, to a large extent, has the same problem that art museums and galleries have: They have lost the peculiar talent of the connoisseurs who made them in the first place. Most curators simply don't have the eye or the sensibility of a Duncan Phillips or and Isabella Stewart Gardner. Most publishers these days don't come close to Alfred Knopf when it comes to powers of literary discernment. The same is true of newspapers. The people running them these are distinctly inferior to Pulitzer and Hearst.
They run deep ...
... The Roots of Liberal Condescension.
Brooks should know.
As David Brooks showed in "Bobos in Paradise" (2000), the new bourgeois bohemians have figured out a way to have their pesto and eat it, too. They can have nice homes, cars, clothes and vacations—as long as all those consumption items are ones that the Babbitts wouldn't buy, wouldn't like, and whose appeal they'd find mystifying. The Bobo can pay for his socially correct lifestyle by working in a socially correct career—in Silicon Valley, a public-interest law firm, a startup involved with the internet or renewable energy; anything where work "becomes a vocation, a calling, a métier," according to Mr. Brooks.
Brooks should know.
Can't postpone this ...
... Live from New York....
See also Andrew Motion's educational notion and Novel-Tees.
That's our girl.
See also Andrew Motion's educational notion and Novel-Tees.
That's our girl.