"Tropic of Cancer" and "Game of Thrones"

“Tropic of Cancer” by Henry Miller long has been on my “to read” list, and a while back I picked up a paperback copy somewhere, and just recently got around to actually reading it. Of course, it’s famous as a (formerly) banned book, due to its sexual content: Published in Paris in 1934, it was outlawed in the U.S. until a Supreme Court decision in 1964.

It’s a pretty good read. It’s basically about Miller’s years bumming around Paris as an impoverished novelist. Some of the writing is really good; at times, it sort of veers off course. But what really struck me is how un-“dirty” it is. There are tons of four-letter words, and frank references to sex with prostitutes and girlfriends; it sounds a lot like what’s called locker-room talk. But there is very little actual description of sex acts (I noted just one, and it was brief and sketchy). I kept thinking, this book was banned? This was a shocking, scandalous novel? But it was, and, as I learned from Wikipedia, a publisher in New York even spent three years in prison for printing a bootleg edition in 1940.

I also learned from the introduction that Miller and I share the same birthday: Dec. 26. Which makes this an especially appropriate post for today.

I’m a latecomer to the “Game of Thrones” party. I’m not much of a TV watcher, but I was drawn into the whole quality-series thing by a reluctant interest in “Downton Abbey” (a program I still find, on some level, offensive) along with a push from my brother and daughter, both of whom raved about “House of Cards” over dinner one evening. I got “Cards” on DVD from library and liked it ( I refuse to watch on my computer: I use either library DVDs or the latest miracle of modern technology, Chromecast). I knew “Thrones” was big in the zeitgeist and my daughter is a big fan of it, too, so I took the plunge.

I like it, and it’s fun to talk about with other fans. But one thing that struck me about it – and the reason for this combined post – is how, well, pornographic it is. Not only does it include all the four-letter words that Miller used, but it’s rife with full-frontal nudity (mostly female, but also – a rarity – male) as well as graphic sex of almost all kinds: intercourse, oral sex, homosexuality (male and female). Almost all the sex is rough and crude, with aggressive “doggy style” the technique of choice; not much tender lovemaking here. If this were a feature film, it seems certain it would be rated NC-17 (and that’s leaving aside the horrific violence). If anyone screened this in the U.S. in 1934, or 1944, or 1954, or probably even 1964, they’d be lucky to get off with three years in prison.

Times change, I guess.

Too many books?

A week or so ago, I paid my first visit to the Half-Price Books outlet store that opened recently in town. I stepped inside, and it was like the local library book sale, except bigger -- lots bigger. A table of $1 books! Tables of $1.99 books -- fiction and non-fiction! And thousands more on the shelves.

 My mind fairly reeled. And as I started browsing -- picking up, for example a copy of "On Liberty," by J.S. Mill, a book I had just read about somewhere else -- I was suddenly struck with a truly blasphemous thought: There are too many books. I mean, it's really overwhelming, and daunting: I know I will never be able to read all the books I yearn to read. I'll be lucky to read all the books I own already. A store like this is almost cruel.

 As a liberal Democrat, I thought initially that what we needed was a government program to eliminate unnecessary books -- I'd start with all titles that begin with "Windows Programming for..." -- but as a student of J.S. Mill, I banished that thought. Nor did I flee from the store: I walked out with "Encounters with the Archdruid," by John McPhee, because I am a big McPhee fan; a trade paperback of "Moby Dick" to replace the pocket-book edition I had at home, figuring it would be easier to read when I get to reading it (again); and a Spanish-English dictionary, because everyone should have a Spanish-English dictionary -- all for four bucks and change.

 But later, I started to realize that things are worse than I thought. Books are only part of the problem: What about all those articles on aldaily.com and nyrb.com? And lately, what about "House of Cards," "Homeland," "Breaking Bad," "Game of Thrones" and all the other shows from what I recently saw described as the new golden age of television? Aargh!

 What's a fellow to do?

 P.S. I was right about the Spanish-English dictionary, which is why, when I got home, I discovered I already had one. So even though the new one was only a dollar, I decided to return it. Turns out they allow only exchanges. Naturally, I left with not just the one replacement, but two books. The first was a memoir about growing up Armenian-American that I intended as a gift to a friend who grew up Armenian-American (I have given it to him; he better read it!). And the second -- well, it's a biography of the legendary 19th-century British explorer and adventurer Richard Burton. I can't wait!

Minor movie musings

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As some of my Facebook friends know, I like to check out movies on DVD from the local library, and occasionally I discover some gold among the gravel. In the very-pleasant-surprises category, I'd put "The Browning Version," "Tous les Matins du Monde," and "Conversation Piece" (at least, they were surprises to me, because I had never heard of them). As for the disappointments -- well, let's just say that "perhaps the cinema's finest example of  Swabian proto-realism" doesn't necessarily make for movie magic.

I recently viewed three films that, if not quite 24-carat, were nonetheless rewarding. And in my wish to satisfy the fan of my blog clamoring for more of my nuggets of wisdom, here goes.

OK, "Wild Strawberries" is not exactly obscure: It is a Bergman film, after all, and I had heard of it, sorta. I liked it. It's pretty straightforward, and it's not a harrowing look at rape ("The Virgin Spring") or  an excruciating two hours  inside the mind of someone suffering a nervous breakdown ("Face to Face"). But when it comes to symbolism, Bergman doesn't fool around: Anyone who opens a film with a Crusader knight playing chess with Death ("The Seventh Seal") clearly likes that kind of thing straight up, and this film includes a dream sequence with a hearse spilling a coffin that opens...well, I won't spoil it for you.

"Being Julia" I had not heard of, and while it 's not great, it's a charming confection based on a Maugham novel ("Theater") and starring two of my personal faves, Annette Bening and Jeremy Irons. It goes down easy.

 Now, the third film is a bit tricky. I'll confess -- because if you are to blog, you must bare your soul and seek always, always to be authentic -- my motives for taking "Madchen in Uniform" (1958)  off the shelf did not spring from a desire for edification and moral uplift. Quite the contrary: It was the lurid appeal of the proclamations of forbidden lesbian love and frank homoeroticism (in uniform, no less) that did the trick.

Well, the claims were wildly overblown: If anything, the trailers for more contemporary soft-core lesbian films (a genre with which I was previously unfamiliar) that preceded the feature were racier than the main event. But I found the film compelling on several levels.

First, its esthetic was striking. It takes place in a Prussian convent school for girls in the early 20th century, and it is all pale blues and sage greens and creams and grays in interiors scrubbed and spare yet luminous.

Second, it exposed (at least for me) the unexpected range and nuance of the German language in which it is made. Most of the film embodies almost a caricature of Prussian discipline, order and militaristic sacrifice,and the harsh, guttural sounds of the language seem perfectly suited to that, especially when delivered in stern commands. But when the tone softens and turns gentle, it sounds amazingly warm and intimate - maybe by contrast. Who knew?

And finally, another esthetic: Lilli Palmer, who plays a teacher at the school, is a lovely woman, but the young Romy Schneider, in the lead role as a student, is striking, as if she is lit from within.

So there you go.

More "Best of Facebook Comments"

So, this is from a long (too long) exchange with one of my  Anarcho-Syndicalist friends, triggered by his assertion that Ayn Rand was a sociopath. I've left off his side of the conversation, and made some edits for clarity. At the end of this (if by some miracle you get that far), you should be shaking your head and muttering, "This Gregger guy needs to get a life."

 

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Ayn Rand may be misguided and an idiot, as I believe she is, but she is not a sociopath, and categorizing her as such erodes the credibility of the categorizers and does a disservice to the very cause they would seek to advance. The allegation is not much better in tone than claims that Obama is a socialist -- or for that matter, a Muslim socialist. I don't understand why some lefties seem to think it is necessary to indulge in near-hysterical exaggerations and demonizations to establish their bona fides (or whatever their reasons are).

Frankly, I think they undercut their own agenda by engaging in palpably absurd character assassination (as when some of my lefty friends said that Ted Cruz was guilty of treason. Really? I hope I never live in a regime that treats political disagreement as criminal).

I am pretty much a knee-jerk liberal, but  that doesn't mean I think that all conservatives are driven by greed and rabid self-interest, and are necessarily devoid of principle. We liberals disagree with them and think they misread history and reality and are wrong-headed -- but that is not at all the same thing as regarding them as some kind of evil fiends. I believe there are rational arguments to make on behalf of progressive views; I don't think the progressive agenda is served by making irrational arguments.

Now, I  agree wholeheartedly about the left ceding the framing of issues to the right. I would refer you to "The Political Brain" by Drew Westen. Like him, I believe there are cogent arguments the left can make on gun control, abortion and other issues that politicians shy away from because...well, for a lot of different reasons, including polling and a misguided over-emphasis on the rational rather than the emotional (Westen makes an extensive case, drawing on psychological studies, that emotions play an inescapable role in everyone's decision-making in virtually all contexts, and that that is intrinsically human and appropriate). The right has done a far better job than the left of simplifying their messages and appealing to emotions; I (more or less) share Westen's view that there is nothing wrong with that per se and that the left can and should do the same, and not feel squeamish about strong feelings and emotional disputes.

Where we may disagree is over how to go about changing the political landscape. You cited a likening of words to cannonballs, which suggests to me that you think that if the left just bludgeons the right with superheated rhetoric, the left will smash its way to victory - that if the left just calls enough people it disagrees with "sociopaths" and "evil fiends," the scales will fall from society's collective eyes, or something. I don't hold that view.

Ted Cruz is not an evil fiend. I think he's a disingenuous, calculating,self-serving opportunist,but he also believes in the rule of law (more or less), an independent judiciary (more or less), and the right of the people to elect their own representatives (more or less -- and yes, I know about GOP voter suppression etc., but that is not the same as advocating a monarchy or a military dictatorship, both of which are ideas very much current on the global political spectrum). Neither he nor any other Republican of note that I know of called for the Army to install Mitt Romney in the White House after the last election. Indeed, Ted Cruz himself was not installed in the Senate by the bayonets of the Texas National Guard: He was the overwhelmingly choice of the voters to Texas in a (largely) free and fair election. And many of his views, such as his advocacy of limited government, may be repugnant to me and you,but they certainly do not lack for honorable historical precedent.

Which brings me (finally!) to my point: I think the left -- and for that matter, society and the planet -- would be better served by making forceful, cogent and,when relevant, emotional arguments to persuade voters than by firing rhetorical cannonballs. The cannonballs may pump up the Mother Jones readership, but they don't win elections -- and that, ultimately, is where the power lies (thankfully) in our system. Ted Cruz is not the problem -- he's the symptom; the Texas electorate is the problem. And of course we should fight voter suppression efforts, try to register more voters and especially, get them to vote. Y'know, if the oft-invoked "99 percent" were 99 percent of the electorate, or 75 percent,or even 50.001 percent, we could be living in a truly socialist paradise. The tools and the power are there to be seized.

So I would like to see more of a focus on that than on name-calling. For instance, the Dem just won a narrow victory over a hard-right R for governor of Va. I suppose calling the R a woman-hating fanatic helped (though (a) that's still short of sociopath or evil fiend,and (b) he came damn close). but about 6 percent of the vote went to the Libertarian candidate - who supported reproductive choice and marriage equality. If even half of his voters could be persuaded their interests would be better served by the Democratic Party-- well you can do the math.

If all that makes me an old-fashioned, accommodationist fuddy-duddy,so be it.

More bookishness

I’m back “between books” again, having just polished off “Game Change” (there’s a sequel out now, on the 2012 election, called “Double Down,” but I will hold off on that for a while; still looming in the background is “What It Takes: The Way to the White House,” by Richard Ben Kramer, the 1,072-page chronicle of the 1988 election that is reputedly the ne plus ultra of the genre). “Game Change” was entertaining, fun, gossipy and an easy read. I’m thinking “Tropic of Cancer” next, but I never know until I get to the bookcase.
 
But I thought I should mention a book I read a couple of months ago that I absolutely loved – so much so that I literally slowed down as I approached the end to extend the experience. It’s “Birds Without Wings,” by Louis de Bernieres, who also wrote “Corelli’s Mandolin,” which I listened to on CD a couple of years ago and liked (and was made into a movie called “Capt. Corelli’s Mandolin.”) I saw “Birds” at a book sale, thought the cover was cool, was intrigued by the “Corelli’s” connection, bought it and put it on my bookshelf – whence it beckoned to me some time later.

Anyway, “Birds” is a historical novel of sorts (as is “Corelli’s”), in that it unfolds against a background of real historical events and its ensemble cast of characters includes one prominent historical figure: Mustafa Kemal, aka Ataturk, the father of modern Turkey, whose career is traced in some detail episodically through the story.  But the rest of the characters are fictional, as is the particular story itself. It is set in a village in extreme southwestern Turkey in the first 25 years or so of the 20th Century – a village that comprises Christian and Muslim populations who intermingle to a considerable degree and who speak Turkish but write it with Greek letters. Apart from the personal stories, the book pretty explicitly is about the toxic result of the combination of religion and nationalism.

Now, I’ll admit, the subject and setting hold a particular appeal for me because I’m fascinated by the mixing of cultures around the Mediterranean – so fascinated that it comes as a surprise to me when I tell people about that interest and they ask, “Why?” I mean, isn’t it obvious? Who wouldn’t be enthralled by a history of Cordoba under the Moors (“The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain”) or of Sicily under the Normans (“The Kingdom in the Sun 1130-1194”) or by “Salonica, City of Ghosts: Christians, Muslims and Jews 1430-1950”? Exactly.

What I've been reading

I recently finished reading “Absalom, Absalom!” by Faulkner. I’ve read that article about how reading literary fiction makes you smarter, and I figure now I must be brilliant.

 I had actually read this book before, maybe 20 years ago, but I had a lot of trouble with it then: It wasn’t so much the long, convoluted sentences as the plot itself. The edition I just read includes both a chronology and a genealogy of the main characters, written by Faulkner and included in his first edition, which was either absent from the earlier text I read or else it was in the back and I didn’t notice it. Anyway, that made things much clearer, and I had no trouble following what was going on this time.

When I read it before, I approached Faulkner as you might approach a literary god. It’s possible his reputation was larger then, or it may have been an accident of geography: I was living in New Orleans, and Faulkner famously lived in New Orleans and wrote his first novel there, and of course his real literary territory was Mississippi, which is right next door.

I liked the book – liked it a lot, in fact – but I’m not quite sure it embodies divinity. Yes, the writing is incredible, and impressive. And the story is a hell of a yarn. But frankly, it seemed a bit over the top. I had always thought Faulkner transcended “Southern Gothic,” but boy, this was pretty freakin’ Gothic. And I anticipated the expression of the omniscient third-person narrator would be Faulkneresque, but so was that of virtually every character in the book, in speech and writing (like, in letters). That seemed a little weird. Also, the long sentences didn’t get to me, but the four-page paragraphs did. I’m an episodic reader – before going to bed, or at breakfast, for example – and when the paragraphs are that long, where do you stop? Picayune on my part, I know, but lordy.

It does include this wonderful concise description of New Orleans, as “that city foreign and paradoxical, with its atmosphere at once fatal and languorous, at once feminine and steel-hard…” I remembered that from my first reading; it was still true in 1996, and I bet still true today.

Finishing that book put me into that sweet, or maybe bittersweet, space where you have just done with the book that was your current read, so you are without a current read, and you contemplate what will be next. There is a sense of absence, a touch of anxiety, but also anticipation: Will it be history? Fiction? Something a bit different, like an anthology of essays? I typically alternate fiction and non-fiction, and I typically scour my bookshelves and savor the possibilities. I varied that slightly this time, in that I picked up on a suggestion from a co-worker and from the library acquired “Game Change,” a book about the 2008 presidential campaign. It is, as my coworker described it, political porn. It’s not great, but I am tearing through it and enjoying the heck out of it.

The Tea Party mindset, revealed!

Well, it turns out I am not the only one curious about what underlies the thinking of Tea Partyers: So is Democracy Corps, a research and policy outfit put together by James Carville and Stan Greenberg. They convened focus groups of Republicans to find out where they were coming from, and their report is fascinating (and not as daunting as the length would suggest -- it is broken into bite-sized chunks).
You can find a summary and link to the full report here.

Meanwhile, Harold Meyerson of the Washington Post cited the report in his Oct. 15 column.

And some time back, I was channel surfing and ran across a Cato Institute seminar on the psychology of the Tea Party. Long story short, that led me to this survey comparing broader libertarian views to those of traditional liberals and conservatives (in the survey, "libertarians" essentially stand in for "Tea Partyers," although those groups may not be congruent). Turns out there are some areas of overlap on both ends of the spectrum, according to the report on the survey, which includes a 12-minute video summary.

Enjoy!

Best of Gregger FB comments II

(see previous post)

And this one was in response to this comment: "Basic economics says that minimum wage increases both take jobs away from deserving job-seekers, and take business opportunities away from would-be employers, resulting in a net negative impact on the economy. (If I could operate e.g. a cost-effective bakery before with 10 bakers at $6/hour, it may not be cost-effective anymore at $15/hour, and so the bakery closes and the people lose their jobs). It also shifts jobs away to jurisdictions with no minimum wage regulation, and encourages a black-market economy. I haven't seen any rational, non-emotional argument for minimum wage."

To wit:

Virtually any labor regulation can be logically attacked as job-killing and business-destroying, because it increases the cost of employing people and doing business in a competitive environment: minimum wage, work week and overtime, workplace safety, even child labor laws (which were argued against by pro-business interests at the time). The problem is, absent these kinds of regulations, the result is not pretty. The most economically efficient approach to labor is to treat it as a commodity -- but if you do that, the result is really not pretty. And this is not abstract speculation, because we've seen a developed industrial economy like that: late 19th-century America. The horrible abuses and exploitation of that time (and others) are why we have these regulations in the first place. (It always amazes me that people act as if these laws and regulations were just dreamed up by bureaucrats sitting around with nothing better to do -- like, no one ever got injured at work or burned to death in a shirtwaist factory, everything was just peachy keen, and some pencil-pushers decided to invent OSHA just because). It seems to me the object of our laws and regulations should be to shape the best society, not the best economy -- and though there's a lot of overlap there, those outcomes, sadly, are not identical.

Best of Gregger FB comments I

Seems like some of my best stem-winding declamations come in comments on Facebook threads -- but why limit then to that audience? Why not go global, and drive traffic to my blog?


So, here's one in response to a friend posting a Bill Keller opinion piece (see below):

I like Keller's points on the second page about the "M.D. cartel." Funny how these doctors who rage against government intrusion are perfectly happy to benefit from a cartel whose rules and restrictions are enforced by...the government. If I want to compete with an espresso-stand owner, I can open my own espresso stand and let the invisible hand of the free market sort it out. But if I want to compete with a doctor, I can't do that, unless I jump through hoops the access to which is controlled by the very people I want to compete with -- or else go to (government-run) jail for practicing medicine without a license. Of course, my position is absurd, because nothing so important as the life-and-death issues of health care should be left to the unregulated vagaries of the free market. Oh, wait...

Obamacare: The Rest of the Story

 

Bloviations

When I was in the shower the other morning, I’m not ashamed to say that I got to thinking about political theory and behavior. Two lines of thought crossed in my sudsy brain: one deriving from an article called “The Rise of the New New Left” that has been getting a good deal of attention lately, and the other related to my ongoing curiosity about what motivates Tea Party behavior.

"The Rise of the New New Left,” which I’ve been passing around to my friends and co-workers, maintains that much of the electorate, and particularly the young electorate, is turning away from the centrist, small-government, business-celebrating philosophy that has dominated both the Democratic and Republican parties for the past 30 years and toward a more traditionally leftist perspective that is skeptical about business and more receptive to governmental solutions. The catalyst? The Great Recession, which gave the lie to the free market’s claim to superior wisdom about ordering society. It makes sense: If you graduated from college in the last five years into a world ravaged by an economic collapse that followed on the free market run amuck, a world in which job opportunities were limited or non-existent, you wouldn’t have much faith in the genius of unfettered capitalism – and you might look somewhere else for opportunity (or health coverage).

So, I was thinking, that would apply to the graduating classes of 2008, 2009, 2010…Wait a second: 2010 -- that was the year the Tea Party burst fully on the political scene, in the midterm voting that gave control of the U.S. House to the Republicans (in a very low-turnout election, but that’s a subject for another day). And suddenly, as I was rinsing my beard, it occurred to me that the Tea Party phenomenon is also a reaction to the Great Recession -- just in a different form.

I was political editor for The New Orleans Times-Picayune in 1991, when David Duke ran against Edwin Edwards for governor. Edwards won in a landslide, but the Duke threat was very real: He finished a close second to Edwards in the open primary, beating out the incumbent governor, Democrat-turned-Republican Buddy Roemer, and took 55% percent of the white vote in the general election (in case you don’t know, Duke, who ran as a Republican, is a white supremacist and was an avowed Klansman and neo-Nazi, with the newspaper photos to prove it; Edwards, a Democrat, was a former governor widely regarded as corrupt who ultimately went to federal prison).

At the time, I was as bemused (in the strict sense) by the Duke supporters as I am by the Tea Party types today: What makes them tick? What are they thinking? As Thomas Frank put it, “What’s the Matter With Kansas?”

Louisiana was not in good shape in 1991. It’s an Oil Patch state, and the oil boom of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s had gone bust a few years before, in a major way. And from what I saw in 1991 on TV and heard and felt, the emotion Duke tapped into was anger: anger that les bon temps did no longer rouler, that the American Dream as mass-marketed to ordinary folks by the consumer economy seemed to be slipping from their grasp. When people get angry, when they feel beleaguered by circumstances they neither control nor understand, they often look for someone to blame (a very human reaction, I think we can agree, and more satisfying than blaming yourself, even if that is merited). In 1991, Duke gave to despairing white voters blacks and affirmative action as objects of their wrath; in 2010, the Tea Party channeled recession-spawned rage in the direction of big government, the Muslim socialist in the White House and socialism in general.

Maybe this is not an original idea, but it was a better subject of contemplation than I sometimes chance on in the shower.