tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71830149599409143772024-03-05T11:07:06.567-08:00egajd books - read and almost read<b><i>... a world of words to wander in wonder.</i>
<br><br><br>
It is a pleasure<br>
When, in a book which by chance<br>
I am perusing,<br>
I come on a character<br>
Who is exactly like me.<br><br>
Tachibana Akemi</b>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-84303550491410014932013-08-03T00:54:00.000-07:002013-08-03T09:04:19.122-07:002013.07.16 — In Celebration of AlMFr's inclusion into Humanity, Some Koontz: The Good Guy<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAck6Q0xlyaW1WefECjaQseafYuOcKKipUEvM6SIxr9sebQ9nDgQScXtFRVJ3RU6uVSZfXuReemMpCZ85Qfnx56X4goJCiIDYMQmnDDCN6lJXx0pBLPp77zok6qxAEm3eqtmKL65eMielJ/s1600/GoodGuy-Koontz.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAck6Q0xlyaW1WefECjaQseafYuOcKKipUEvM6SIxr9sebQ9nDgQScXtFRVJ3RU6uVSZfXuReemMpCZ85Qfnx56X4goJCiIDYMQmnDDCN6lJXx0pBLPp77zok6qxAEm3eqtmKL65eMielJ/s200/GoodGuy-Koontz.png" width="121" /></a></div>I have adopted a policy of not reading giant American bestselling authors, but an American friend has sited <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dean_Koontz">Dean R. Koontz</a> as a favourite writer. <a href="http://pensanderasers.blogspot.ca/">AlMFr</a> has joined the 21+ set, and given that i cannot meet her face-to-face to give her a prim and proper public toast in celebration of my pleasure in having come to know her, I thought I would toast her from afar by dipping into her reading world and give Koontz a read.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDq3ruE3PwlpxjWhhpHxCiDuq6oOsBqOmsWnSslmSPQLMtllPhZIRet5dEH0kybqJIzoQvYVuVsyyNp1blZjE9jkaQtBgRxVC3BRaNS6XvLDAOmPY-BnEa7AQ3xaA0wbYnJkyFXtnXQ65/s1600/DemonSeed-MoviePoster.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzDq3ruE3PwlpxjWhhpHxCiDuq6oOsBqOmsWnSslmSPQLMtllPhZIRet5dEH0kybqJIzoQvYVuVsyyNp1blZjE9jkaQtBgRxVC3BRaNS6XvLDAOmPY-BnEa7AQ3xaA0wbYnJkyFXtnXQ65/s200/DemonSeed-MoviePoster.png" width="133" /></a></div>Although this wasn't going to be my first stab at him. I remember reading <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demon_Seed_(novel)">Demon Seed</a> in 1975 or so. (Can you believe that this book warrants its own Wikipedia page?!) The book wasn't great, I think because I didn't like the ending. However, it must have something in it because almost 40 years later I still remember this book. (The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Demon_Seed">movie</a> was SO VERY bad. Perhaps the worst book to movie adaptation I have seen, ranking in rankness with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soylent_green">Soylent Green</a>. And may actually worse then even Schwarzenegger's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commando_(movie)">Commando</a> and Eastwood's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Gauntlet_(film)">The Gauntlet</a>.)<br />
<br />
What to pick? I wandered to my nearby used book store. OMG, he is prolific! J&L of <a href="http://www.renaissancebookstore.com/">Renaissance Books</a> have about two and half shelves of Koontz, few of them duplicates.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dean_Koontz">Dean Koontz</a>.<br />
<a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/book/95008/the-good-guy-by-dean-koontz">The Good Guy</a>.<br />
<a href="http://www.randomhouse.com/">Random House</a>. 2012.06.26. <br />
ISBN: 978-0-345-53332-6.<br />
<br />
Began July 16, 2013<br />
Finished July 31, 2013<br />
<br />
★★★★☆<br />
<br />
This is an easy summer read with a fun, nicely drawn sociopathic killer with connections to a secret government organization. It has the strong, silent, modest hero, rising to the challenge of unbeatable odds. It has an equally strong female who is not a victim of the attempt to kill her. I was delighted by how much this book echoed my own youthful favourites, in particular <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dead_Cert">Dead Cert</a> by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dick_Francis">Dick Francis</a>. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnqJWI3wHiSdQCu6gU-ZjIRkEUh-ZD6UVCfuNxHynh5e1bCgjXIcjxPisrUJLa7z-qxBZWoZhrDlakdnfC4Zj4F0Dy-nbJ1OkfZjYMGL0uL9q_1N0HMsYDg2-l3snLnqNXtyszjwdZE6j/s1600/DickFrancis.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdnqJWI3wHiSdQCu6gU-ZjIRkEUh-ZD6UVCfuNxHynh5e1bCgjXIcjxPisrUJLa7z-qxBZWoZhrDlakdnfC4Zj4F0Dy-nbJ1OkfZjYMGL0uL9q_1N0HMsYDg2-l3snLnqNXtyszjwdZE6j/s200/DickFrancis.png" width="200" /></a></div>[Note: per Wikipedia, <i>Dead Cert</i> is listed in <a href="http://books.google.ca/books?id=OREKAQAAMAAJ">100 Must-Read Crime Novels</a>.] Now that I am a bit older, it would seem that the stoicism and survival of the characters was what appealed to me and now appeals to my friend. It was a very pleasant surprise that reading <i>The Good Guy</i> brought back youthful memories and feelings.<br />
<br />
There is a but, however. Stop reading if you don't want to read me disclosing in some detail the ending. It ended very badly, enough to take it from a five star book, to four. When I told Al of my reaction, she agreed with me. And added 'Koontz writes bad endings. Usually.' Actually, it was so bad that I found myself 'needing' to extemporaneously re-write it for Koontz. I have included that below my review. After I told Al that, she confessed to having re-written five endings for Koontz as well, but without publishing them. (Al, please publish them!)<br />
<br />
What could have been so bad? After surviving against all odds, in what had been generally very strong writing for this genre, the protagonist suffers through a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deus_ex_machina">deus ex machina</a> as bad as any I've read in at least ten years. The protagonist talks to the President of the USA, who cleans house of the evil secret security organizations. Really? Not only does this assume the president doesn't know about it, which is, although possible, somewhat improbable. But then, if he doesn't, how would he be able to so quickly effect such a housecleaning? And if he did know about them, how would he clean house? They would be an accepted part of managing a free democracy, and he would have little ability to change that.<br />
<br />
Yes, <i>The Good Guy</i> had a very bad ending, indeed. Too bad, as it hurt an otherwise very entertaining read.<br />
<br />
Normally I include extended citations from the books I review, but in stead I will post my re-write of the ending.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In February, nine months after Tim killed Linda's would-be murderer, six months after his meeting with the president, Michael McCready's house burnt to the ground. What remains were left were tentatively identified as those of McCready, and the initial survey indicated it was an accident.<br />
<br />
But Tim didn't learn that for several days after the fact. The day before McCready died, Tim's sophisticated and expertly hidden security surveillance system disclosed someone's presence where no one was supposed to be. Without flinching with the pain of this betrayal, Tim texted Linda with their pre-determined code-word. Without seeking each other, they exited their home via two divergent underground paths. Each picked up the stowed survival kits that had been carefully prepared. Before hurrying to meet her, Tim texted Pete another code word one of the disposable cell phones in the survival kit. He left it and his regular cell phone behind after removing their batteries.<br />
<br />
Several hours later, Tim was looking at Linda looking at him. For the first time he thought he saw a touch of fear in her eyes. 'We're not dead yet,' was all he said. It was enough.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Okay, okay. I'll cite something real, as well. I fully acknowledge this is not great heavy-handed literature, but it entertained me for a few hours over a couple of weeks. Here's Koontz:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Taking swift strides, Krait went after her, but he did not run. A pursuit that required running was probably a pursuit lost.<br />
<br />
Besides, a running man did not appear to be a man in control. He might even give the impression of being panicked.<br />
<br />
Appearances are not reality, but they often can be a convincing alternative to it. You can control appearances most of the time, but facts are what they are. When the facts are too sharp, you can craft a cheerful version of the situation and cover the facts the way that you can cover a battered old four-slice toaster with a knitted cozy featuring images of kittens (120).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">See, not great writing, but moves the narrative along while establishing the civil ethos of the sociopathic killer.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-33964468965734442482013-07-13T18:23:00.000-07:002013-07-14T15:23:41.788-07:002013.07.04 — The Divine Economy of Salvation by Priscilla Uppal; Finished 2003<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1DUMttaJx6yBqAISW0Vr5t7oAquVVBnIlPqfxv_QKz0PkCiTpvvSXuXUVAFkiF25Yl9N6a1qlJe14YjL_nJN8oc5-bCxtSS6hPl-FeN5BJ5K5oCZ7vzUbSL3sZddagrgUEvJlxkTdrzRS/s1600/DivineEconomySalvation.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1DUMttaJx6yBqAISW0Vr5t7oAquVVBnIlPqfxv_QKz0PkCiTpvvSXuXUVAFkiF25Yl9N6a1qlJe14YjL_nJN8oc5-bCxtSS6hPl-FeN5BJ5K5oCZ7vzUbSL3sZddagrgUEvJlxkTdrzRS/s400/DivineEconomySalvation.png" width="187.5" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is a belated review in that I read <i>Divine Economy of Salvation</i> in 2003. <i>DES</i> was one of those great little serendipities that I enjoy so much, in that I stumbled across it in my local library. Well, <i>stumbled</i> is not accurate. I heard it call my name as I was glancing at the books on new acquisitions shelf. And I was so glad to have been there to discover it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">★★★★★</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Priscila_Uppal" target="_blank">Priscila Uppal</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/books/181989/the-divine-economy-of-salvation-by-priscila-uppal" target="_blank">Random House (Canada)</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">2003. ISBN 9780385658058<br />
<br />
I loved the book! But, at the time I read it I put off my usual practice of buying my own copy of a library-read book that grabbed me by the short and curleys.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrQvBn3nu_sKnqxpxOxjvR19D6Et9Y1zR6ATCWwj2uqoMjHLnIUSnygrEE9Hr4UX-ExObl32Or1Tl8LXz2KqEsqZkbiLteU-JIGTYtOpGElhY1vZ_-Q6mBqmL0DE14hHKJc-shTiFPAPy/s1600/PriscilaUppal-Monochrome.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrQvBn3nu_sKnqxpxOxjvR19D6Et9Y1zR6ATCWwj2uqoMjHLnIUSnygrEE9Hr4UX-ExObl32Or1Tl8LXz2KqEsqZkbiLteU-JIGTYtOpGElhY1vZ_-Q6mBqmL0DE14hHKJc-shTiFPAPy/s200/PriscilaUppal-Monochrome.png" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
When I did go to buy it, I found it was out of print, at the time and for many years subsequently. (It appears that it is now back in print.) I purchased it this year with a gift certificate to Amazon.ca. (And I will here say that that was my first purchase from them, and I found it to be an experience worth publicly praising. I would do it again, and would recommend other on-line purchase phobics give it a try.)<br />
<br />
This is a beautiful read. I was blown away by the power and complexity and poetry of the language and ideas. <br />
<br />
It is told as a reflection to a childhood and, interwoven within that the story is also told from the point of view of that childhood, of a murder. The language that describes the brutality of children in childhood is soft and exquisite. I found myself savouring the language as if it were a fine chocolate or spirit. I'd re-read passages, and pause to enjoy the language and the irony of its beauty in contrast to the events being remembered.<br />
<br />
This book isn't filled with histrionics or melodramatic angst. It is about a person's quiet but persistent quest for some kind of spiritual redemption after discovering, as a child, the evil that man can do because she was that evil.<br />
<br />
I cannot recommend this book highly enough to people in love with language and quiet reflective reading on the psychology of spiritual redemption.</span></span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">BELLA is SINGING, HER thin body like a candle in the darkness of the church, her braids like curls of wax. Her arms are raised up to the heavens, and a bright white light shines down from the rafters. There are other singers, hazy outlines swaying in the background, their voices muffled. Bella is clear, her voice piercing the air like a swift bird flying through an open window in winter. She sings with confidence, as if the church were empty, her own heart fixed on a spot beyond this time.<blockquote><i>Lamb of God, You take away the sins of the World<br />
<br />
Have Mercy on us</i></blockquote>The song is a round, but all the voices are Bella's. She is her own chorus, the notes sombre and haunting, the pubescent girl growing older as each new voice enters the chant. I am alone in the confessional, gazing at her through the screen that should house the priest. "The Lord be praised," I whisper, but there is no man there to receive me, only Bella's lungs filling with air and exhaling her song.<blockquote><i>Lamb of God, You take away the sins of the World<br />
<br />
Have Mercy on us</i></blockquote>As she nears the end of the hymn, her many voices slowing, steadily softer in tone, the white ghosts behind her lower themselves onto their knees. Bella screams, her hands against her stomach. Blood appears and she looks down at them with her dark eyes as if her fingers have sinned against her, their tips like foreign objects in her sight, bloody wet flowers sprouting from the nails, pricking her flesh. I try to open the door to the confessional to help, but it is locked. I can hear the trampling of footsteps towards the doors. "Why are you leaving her there?" I yell, pounding the weight of my body against the wood, the small compartment filling with smoke, the screen sizzling. "She's burning! She's burning!"<br />
<br />
I wake to the deep rumble of thunder breaking in the winter sky outside. Wet snow against my window in the darkness like tiny hands. I am parched, my throat sore and scratchy, the air in the room dry. A flash of lightning, and the silver candle holder on the dresser is momentarily illuminated as if standing in judgement, its long body a sparkling robe. I put on my housecoat, turn my back on my accuser, and decide to fetch a glass of water from upstairs.<br />
<br />
The hallway on the first floor, unlike mine of grey stone, is plaster. There is a washroom in the basement, a single toilet and basin, but no shower. I walk between the white painted walls, lined with wooden engravings of palms and crosses, and pause by Sister Josie's door.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4im9F7qaslFRxOaHqcspZWn87XBYRrB5pKxbN81fuupulo80kdcdjOBIP7wUdwzTlzJwxlPev2SjdZ2P1W77GZeZK3c9v54fqAWcvO5j_IUJmC6RJU44OtOdFtBAKWj5Dhyn83RPGE0DN/s1600/WayTheCrowFlies.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4im9F7qaslFRxOaHqcspZWn87XBYRrB5pKxbN81fuupulo80kdcdjOBIP7wUdwzTlzJwxlPev2SjdZ2P1W77GZeZK3c9v54fqAWcvO5j_IUJmC6RJU44OtOdFtBAKWj5Dhyn83RPGE0DN/s320/WayTheCrowFlies.png" width="207" /></a></div>Sister Josie and Sister Sarah, both in their fifties, comprise a convent of two. They are virtually inseparable: take their meals together and say their prayers in unison. It is fairly common knowledge that in the night one might make her way into the room (93-4).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
I read this around the same time I read <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ann-Marie_MacDonald" target="_blank">Ann-Marie MacDonald's</a> amazing book <a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/books/104990/the-way-the-crow-flies-by-ann-marie-macdonald" target="_blank">The Way the Crow Flies</a>. I mention this because these two books are a nearly perfect pairing of complementary ideas and themes, told from completely different perspectives. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDLb7DivDQYAYurKZlatLA8p4uhX0282a42iCQpPZpS_W9fljL2UI3N-Y7zO48hNo5CLc6sSP4MM0RTDJdaDHQT1M1p-kPi_alXrd4kCiCFnwVgYgYsQQwIBLsWulQuDc-P-FkDYHJEjM/s1600/AnnMarieMacDonald.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSDLb7DivDQYAYurKZlatLA8p4uhX0282a42iCQpPZpS_W9fljL2UI3N-Y7zO48hNo5CLc6sSP4MM0RTDJdaDHQT1M1p-kPi_alXrd4kCiCFnwVgYgYsQQwIBLsWulQuDc-P-FkDYHJEjM/s320/AnnMarieMacDonald.png" width="240" /></a></div>Those being personal redemption, injustice, and an exploration of the brutality of children, a theme we squeamish adults would rather pretend did not exist.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>The Divine Economy of Salvation</i> is brilliant, and is still sitting in my top 20 all time favourite books. (And I will be posting a review of <i>The Way the Crow Flies</i>.)</span><br />
<br />
Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-59140971725389209192013-06-29T18:23:00.000-07:002013-07-04T20:40:31.081-07:002013.06.29 — Something Different: 'Florescence', A Poetry Reading by Me<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A few weeks ago a couple of poems I read in <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/group/show/15522-weekly-short-stories-contest-and-company">The Weekly Short Story Contests and Company</a> inspired me to read them. With the writer's okay, I did, and discovered that I wanted to read the entire lot of them twelve in total, when you include mine.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi0B5TDvOy1L-YpTfFSFl4J0lAW2xYq3cyZbmz-_lbeZu5hFFGGcgt-Vez9-BYPdQZ6hhTA7qbT7eFxJoY1opNwoMXCiPnD0kShmZ8rXGOdfHmKcepYHx_gaNmma5TGvuWgJfErApJvKxB/s690/Florescence.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi0B5TDvOy1L-YpTfFSFl4J0lAW2xYq3cyZbmz-_lbeZu5hFFGGcgt-Vez9-BYPdQZ6hhTA7qbT7eFxJoY1opNwoMXCiPnD0kShmZ8rXGOdfHmKcepYHx_gaNmma5TGvuWgJfErApJvKxB/s200/Florescence.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See Note Below for Image Credit</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span></div>The topic was <b>Florescence</b>, the 170th topic. You can read the contest at <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence"><b>Weekly Poetry Stuffage :)</b> > Week 170 (June 10-17). Topic: Florescence</a>.<br />
<br />
I am biased by my membership with this group, but I feel that this quiet little place on the web has some real talent. Several of these poems read amazingly well, even with my relatively poor effort. So well, I wanted to advertise their efforts, and publicly praise and thank them for their contributions. <br />
<br />
You can hear them in Soundcloud <a href="https://soundcloud.com/egajd/wss-week-170-florescence"><b>here</b></a>.<br />
<br />
The poems, in order of reading, can be read:<br />
<br />
1. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence#comment_75932568"><i>light bleating</i></a> by Belly<br />
<br />
2. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence#comment_76042946"><i>Eating</i></a> by Al<br />
<br />
3. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence#comment_76051091"><i>Beyond</i></a> by Hannah<br />
<br />
4. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence#comment_76183899"><i>Imagine</i></a> by Rikki<br />
<br />
5. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence#comment_76193179"><i>Funnels look Flowers look Flutes . . .</i></a> by Ajay<br />
<br />
6. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence#comment_76226470"><i>Untitled</i></a> by Roshan<br />
<br />
7. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence?page=2#comment_76300915"><i>Terribly Cheesy Villanelle</i></a> by Robyn<br />
<br />
8. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence?page=2#comment_76321212"><i>the price of flowers for lunch</i></a> by Guy<br />
<br />
9. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence?page=2#comment_76360577"><i>Reversion to Swamp</i></a> by M<br />
<br />
10. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence?page=2#comment_76363651"><i>Flowers</i></a> by CJ<br />
<br />
11. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence?page=2#comment_76420396"><i>I'll take that pill now doctor</i></a> by Paula Tohline<br />
<br />
12. <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1363270-week-170-june-10-17-poems-topic-florescence?page=2#comment_76434818"><i>Amber Fort Goats</i></a> by Jim Pascual Agustin.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Image Credit</b><br />
The image I have used is courtesy of <a href="http://ashtrayheartromina.deviantart.com/">AshtrayheartRomina</a> of Deviant Art. I have used this with her permission. And, with her generosity, without payment. I proffer her my sincere thank you for allowing me to share with you her creative eye. If find the image engaging, please visit her gallery at the Deviant Art web page, linked above.</span><br />
Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-21755684241616971302013-05-26T00:21:00.000-07:002013-05-26T00:21:51.319-07:002013.05.26 — Elizabeth Costello by J.M.Coetzee: Finished<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It's been too long since I've blogged a review — or anything, for that matter. But, now to break the silence. I have been busy, and I've been reading too. Since my last book blog (<b>2012.12.25!)</b> I've read the following books, from the most recent:<blockquote><a href=http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1089844.Elizabeth_Costello" target="_blank">Elizabeth Costello</a> by J.M. Coetzee; <br />
<a href=" target="_blank">Archetypes and Strange Attractors: The Chaotic World of Symbols</a> by John R. Van Eenwyk;<br />
<a href=" target="_blank">The Fisher King and the Handless Maiden</a> by Robert A. Johnson;<br />
<a href=" target="_blank">The Prosperous Few and the Restless Many</a> by Noam Chomsky;<br />
<a href=" target="_blank">Marcovaldo</a> by Italo Calviino.</blockquote><br />
And I am in the process of, actively, reading the following:<blockquote><a href=http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/551658.World_Orders_Old_and_New" target="_blank">World Orders, Old and New</a> by Noam Chomsky;<br />
<br />
<a href=http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/487034.The_Cult_of_Personality" target="_blank">The Cult of Personality: How Personality Tests Are Leading Us to Miseducate Our Children, Mismanage Our Companies, and Misunderstand Ourselves</a> by Annie Murphy Paul.</blockquote>With some luck and a bit of diligence I will blog the rest of these books in the near future.<br />
<br />
But <b>this</b> blog will be of <i>Elizabeth Costello</i> by the much lauded <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J._M._Coetzee" target="_blank">J.M. Coetzee</a>.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79iPUq9AVVWlS6ZK4Jp6ChVy7Es4OzZdf9zidbe4zGqp3KllYl6wUrLWiSsFbdvnmqnGm-n5MHI6cr8CH65WJFjEHIA-O5v9WIeKyO8HiOhlaYKvY0S1s74V-I-aoiQgH7Xax38D9XBZ9/s1600/ElizabethCostello.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79iPUq9AVVWlS6ZK4Jp6ChVy7Es4OzZdf9zidbe4zGqp3KllYl6wUrLWiSsFbdvnmqnGm-n5MHI6cr8CH65WJFjEHIA-O5v9WIeKyO8HiOhlaYKvY0S1s74V-I-aoiQgH7Xax38D9XBZ9/s320/ElizabethCostello.png" /></a><br />
<br />
Begun: 2013.04.21.<br />
Finished 2013.05.08<br />
<br />
★★★★★<br />
<br />
It would seem that I have become something of a literary recluse because I do not remember anything distinctive about the author or his books despite his having won a Booker Prize, for <a href=http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/409449.Disgrace" target="_blank">Disgrace</a> and even that has not jogged the grey cells. My friend, and expansive book reader, TR called me to him when I was walking by his desk. 'I think you might like this,' he said. 'It is really making a strong criticism of the humanities! Shockingly so and funny.'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYHTJ4qmb4x0lnVc6kAcBpmOwr1s07uQbLcElLlNouUu9Yus_U7kngOil65PX-N8nByljEJYiNtCsZspJ0APAQsRRuFCkGpmePqB5FZTzmFjORkzS0ZDuzqAjFGCJw-jicg8AMMxlDqMoV/s1600/JMCoetzee.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .5em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYHTJ4qmb4x0lnVc6kAcBpmOwr1s07uQbLcElLlNouUu9Yus_U7kngOil65PX-N8nByljEJYiNtCsZspJ0APAQsRRuFCkGpmePqB5FZTzmFjORkzS0ZDuzqAjFGCJw-jicg8AMMxlDqMoV/s200/JMCoetzee.png" width="199" /></a>And TR was right! The obnoxious and eccentric narrator is the famous Australian writer Elizabeth Costello. She is bitter that she is famous for one book, an early one, and that bitterness colours much of her interaction with those who are either giving her literary awards or are seeking her opinion on writing. She is not just critical of generally accepted standards of literary discourse and the general zeitgeist of the humanities, but castigates them and their adherents. I confess to laughing with pleasure, too, because Coetzee articulates through Costello some of the criticisms I've expressed about the intellectual state of university schooling.<br />
<br />
There are some delightful ironies, such as when Costello's sister, who is a practicing nun, is awarded an honorary degree in the humanities. In her acceptance speech Blanche (the sister) articulates that the history and evolution of the study of the humanities as being the study of anything but 'humans'. The birth of the so-called humanities began as the search for the literal truth of Scripture by trying to find the original language, the original text, the original 'tribe,' etc. The development and evolutions of the humanities had nothing to do with man and mankind's search for meaning in artistic expression. <br />
<br />
This section acts as delightful counterpoint to Costello's ostensibly vain pursuit that <i>the</i> meaning and truth of life to are to be found within reason's purview. Coetzee suggests with humour and brilliant language, that enlightenment was wrong, that reason is a bastard child and leads to people developing disagreeable tempers with poor digestions. (Costello becomes an obsessive, perhaps even irrational, animal rights advocated.)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxtoMY12ACYPHMX4aa2_oOFzx-zcHkNg2PSDayLTz2i-Pkf0oqiZO6qxYd4pDWSMRyWmALS_5__Mrx_tYwRfH4bhJp3QbFXDYm2Qn7EIMaUMuEdQvy9J9qy-kd1OGu609GORsqqgI2Jxs/s1600/CostelloNun-2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .5em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxtoMY12ACYPHMX4aa2_oOFzx-zcHkNg2PSDayLTz2i-Pkf0oqiZO6qxYd4pDWSMRyWmALS_5__Mrx_tYwRfH4bhJp3QbFXDYm2Qn7EIMaUMuEdQvy9J9qy-kd1OGu609GORsqqgI2Jxs/s320/CostelloNun-2.png" /></a><br />
<br />
Blanche's acceptance speech is a fabulous articulation of the problem of reason, the arts, and the meaning of life:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">'Eilizabeth,' Blanche (is there something new in her tone, something softer, or is she just imagining it?), 'remember it is their gospel, their Christ. It is what they made of him, they, the ordinary people. Out of love. And not just in Africa... Ordinary people do no want the Greeks. They do not want the realm of pure forms. They do not want marble statues. They want someone who suffers like them. Like them and for them.'<br />
<br />
Jesus. The Greeks. It is not what she expected, not what she wanted, nat at this last minute when they are saying their goodbye for perhaps the last time. Something unrelenting about Blanche. Unto death. She should have learned her lesson. Sisters never let go of each other. Unlike men, who let go all too easily. Locked to the end in Blanche's embrace.<br />
<br />
'So: Thou has triumphed, O pale Galilean,' she says, not trying to hide her bitterness in her voice. 'Is that what you want to hear me say, Blanche?'<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: .5em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHGdTCny5x-lJF0STrpjlwaXMzY6F1H5tUnN-qAmPUxS_6gHeSUMDNVnx8RcfPIbn6otqlH92fMB5zhjHvglWSk9H_c9TTPgCT7jtIdK6pxKRFvK0axuoe_6xUHmpnch2EUwSsMjF2tm4/s1600/Costello-Orpheus.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfHGdTCny5x-lJF0STrpjlwaXMzY6F1H5tUnN-qAmPUxS_6gHeSUMDNVnx8RcfPIbn6otqlH92fMB5zhjHvglWSk9H_c9TTPgCT7jtIdK6pxKRFvK0axuoe_6xUHmpnch2EUwSsMjF2tm4/s200/Costello-Orpheus.png" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mattssketchbook.blogspot.ca/2009/11/orpheus.html" target="_blank">Matt's Sketch of Orpheus</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>'More or less. You backed a loser, my dear. If you had put your money on a different Greek you might still have stood a chance. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orpheus target="_blank">Orpheus</a> instead of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo" target="_blank">Apollo</a>, the ecstatic instead of the rational. Someone who changes form, changes colour, according to his surroundings. Someone who can die but then come back. A chameleon. A phoenix. Someone who appeals to women. Because it is women who live closest to the ground. Someone who moves among the people, whom they can touch — put their hand into the side of, feel the wound, smell the blood. But you didn't, and you lost. You went for the wrong Greeks, Elizabeth.'</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">From the acknowledgements, this 'novel' is a compilation of stories written over a long period of time, for different purposes, that have been patched together. This may have been it's weakest element, as the voice changes in rather unusual ways as the book progresses. It creates a curious reading tension, which I found complemented the arc of the tales very well, but which may be off-putting to some. <br />
<br />
Also, for those who are not to enamoured of philosophical arguments couched in a novel-like form, this will likely not be the book for you. But the philosophy and argument I found engaging and challenging and, above all, fun, despite Costello being rather obnoxious character.<br />
<br />
The cleverness of Coetzee's writing is expressed through an ironic compulsion of Costello. Costello has become fanatical about the horrid state of our animal husbandry practices, and cannot keep herself from condemning the people around her for their insensitivity and ignorance to this dire situation regardless how inappropriately timed or expressed. But Costello has enough self awareness to know that her obsession is irrational, <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigb7hb_xAYCa0DN2cksWX_C83OumcKcfTbrnLw1w3nO58PRP6NcYpOLXIGbfX14EH8XtexWIYxosErcC7Reud9Pxb0XbhDvKEPNFttofQ-jCgoZhS_1zptLh6bcF5RWxRkmkp30FrTbe72/s1600/Costello-Disgrace.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .5em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigb7hb_xAYCa0DN2cksWX_C83OumcKcfTbrnLw1w3nO58PRP6NcYpOLXIGbfX14EH8XtexWIYxosErcC7Reud9Pxb0XbhDvKEPNFttofQ-jCgoZhS_1zptLh6bcF5RWxRkmkp30FrTbe72/s320/Costello-Disgrace.png" width="208" /></a>even fanatical. But that awareness was not enough for her to temper let alone eliminate her irrational compulsion with reason. Rather, her emphasis on the importance of reason to guide action demands of her that she rationalize her compulsion in a manner her sister admonishes in the acceptance speech, and in Costello herself.<br />
<br />
To the 'right' reader this is highly recommended. But to the wrong one, I suspect it will barely eke out a single star. All I can say is 'Thank you TR, for your recommendation!' I have subsequently purchased his <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Booker_Prize" target="_blank">Booker Prize</a> winning <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disgrace_(novel)" target="_blank">Disgrace</a> and added yet another book to my growing reading list.<br />
</span><br />
Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-72308494509040935482012-12-26T13:10:00.000-08:002012-12-26T20:21:32.815-08:002012.12.25 — Stanley Park by Timothy Taylor: Finished & a Triptych of Small Fushigis*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j2PD3K-3VFFd3YBXqOBbrxgteUnCeaEoQiGmCBPnlXPcS7345L3zJiqB2tjbMQLY1ndyWJf5LwVyVDCvxfT5RGyIJgQI0iO6f13pnLiOsWCwvVXrM8FBkhIVchWfkI9YplQd8giznsPb/s1600/StanleyPark.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j2PD3K-3VFFd3YBXqOBbrxgteUnCeaEoQiGmCBPnlXPcS7345L3zJiqB2tjbMQLY1ndyWJf5LwVyVDCvxfT5RGyIJgQI0iO6f13pnLiOsWCwvVXrM8FBkhIVchWfkI9YplQd8giznsPb/s400/StanleyPark.png" width="257" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://www.timothytaylor.ca/books/stanley-park" target="_blank">Timothy Taylor</a><br />
<a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/books/177041/stanley-park-by-timothy-taylor" target="_blank">Stanley Park</a><br />
Toronto:<a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/" target="_blank">Random House Canada</a> ISBN 9780307363596.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">Began 2012.11.27<br />
Finished 2012.12.23<br />
<br />
★★★★★</div><br />
<i>I have a dream,</i> chef and struggling restaurant owner Jeremy Papier avers. <i>I want my restaurant to bring the hyper-industrialized, homogenized, world back to its roots: food, specifically, that which is grown locally.</i><br />
<br />
And so he gets his dream when, through struggling to find his own family's roots, he begins to cook the wildlife of Vancouver's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanley_Park" target="_blank">Stanley Park</a>: the squirrels, starlings, ducks, geese, raccoons. His first park repast was with his father. They dined on the duck that his father had caught. Eventually Jeremy began to feed a collective of the homeless living in the park. His father, 'The Professor,' is a social anthropologist who, in doing this project, his last, has gone back to finish where he began his career. He is exploring his own and the city's roots by choosing to live amongst the homeless who reside beneath the forest's canopy, hidden from the city's eyes that are too busy to see them. He is exploring what it is that are the ties, <i>the roots</i>, that bind people to homelessness. During the course of the book, this sub-theme comments that, in some ways, these people are more closely connected to their environment, more alive if you will, than the grasping many who have big houses, but spend most of their time feeling alienated and disconnected from their lives.<br />
<br />
But the protagonist is Jeremy, and his dream falls apart when his self-destructive impulse purchase of a $3000 knife cuts the final threads of his credit card kiting. With creditors hounding him, he turns to the international coffee czar to save him and his dream. But a czar doesn't live the dreams of others, and in an elegance only a wealthy thug can envisage, he steals Jeremy's dream and twists it into an ungrounded international smorgasbord.<br />
<br />
What would any creative and daring Chef do to see his dream survive beneath the tyranny of the condescension of wealth?<br />
<br />
And so Taylor writes a complex and elegant fugue that explores the roots of family and food. This is an engaging delightful and complex read. I highly recommend it.<br />
<br />
<i><b>Fushigi Triptych</b></i><br />
During the course of my reading <i>SP</i> it joined me to participate in several small <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigis</i></a>. Some I've already blogged. See <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.ca/2012/12/the-bonfire-of-vanities-by-tom-wolfe.html" target="_blank">2012.12.15 — Bonfire of the Vanities</a>, and <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.ca/2012/12/20121201-anna-russell-and-kris-boyd-and.html" target="_blank">2012.12.01 — Anna Russell and Kris Boyd and Lamb Stew: Three Tiny Fushigis</a>. But three small ones, collectively, have crept up in the final pages that have moved me enough to blog them as one.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpnWpnA5JKviMghAypkqFGVIPh97qwLESr7GrpM-nokuXVJpaImPA8b4JBlq8aGfFi-QYGhHATAlA9ooxjEDcVIpSEAA8V2FlKcvUc_OH29mmj9qAlCNohnRhmK8Ay0Ha6i_6oWNKSyon/s1600/Talisker.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwpnWpnA5JKviMghAypkqFGVIPh97qwLESr7GrpM-nokuXVJpaImPA8b4JBlq8aGfFi-QYGhHATAlA9ooxjEDcVIpSEAA8V2FlKcvUc_OH29mmj9qAlCNohnRhmK8Ay0Ha6i_6oWNKSyon/s200/Talisker.png" width="136" /></a></div><br />
<b>Third One First.</b></span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">… There was a great quantity of Scotch going down and many, many cigars being waved around.<br />
<br />
Olli was offered a Scotch with this very thought, leaning back in his chair thinking about it and watching through the front window as Kiwi hailed a cab and disappeared into the night. Just thinking about that and a voice next to his ear said: "Scotch, sir?"<br />
<br />
"What do you have?" he asked by mistake.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHFrBn55_iKaMl5gexfXUTfMdsSub0WXfdKLJxfauRqf9vht8XwDUlIkD4sXFSSfzbIlIT-6JQMSmnKtensZIOM4fT5GzISfcqZTEpZjjKnRjx4RyNN9wfpX0O_UqwHGxicr405sG5rhic/s1600/Glenmorangie.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHFrBn55_iKaMl5gexfXUTfMdsSub0WXfdKLJxfauRqf9vht8XwDUlIkD4sXFSSfzbIlIT-6JQMSmnKtensZIOM4fT5GzISfcqZTEpZjjKnRjx4RyNN9wfpX0O_UqwHGxicr405sG5rhic/s320/Glenmorangie.png" width="199" /></a></div>"<b><i>Glenmorangie</i></b>, Loch Dhu, Balvenie, Dalwhinnie, Glenkinkchie, Cragganmore, Oban, <b><i>Talisker</i></b>, Lagavulin, Macallan, Laphroaig, Connemara, Glenhaven and Sheep Dip."<br />
<br />
They didn't even have Glenfiddich (393).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What makes this interesting is that the day before I read this I was sent out to buy a bottle of Scotch for our upcoming party. I don't drink Scotch, and so many years ago a friend recommended that a good one to have on hand for Scotch drinking guests is <b><i>Talisker</i></b>. Alas, my local liquor store no longer stocks it. So, after talking with the sales rep, she suggested <b><i>Glenmorangie</b></i>. To the best of my remembrance, I've never seen nor heard of either of these scotches before.<br />
<br />
<b>The Second One Second.</b> A little earlier in the book, I read:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"It really looks . . . dramatic," Margaret said, moving on. <b><i>But Jeremy just kept stroking his chin and scratching his ear, glancing around the room.</i></b> He looked pale; had he lost weight? (369)</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, earlier that day I read the stories in the WSS's weekly short story contests: <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1130760-week-148-december-13-20-stories-topic-witchcraft" target="_blank">Week 148: Witchcraft</a>. In it, Tim has written an excellent story called <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1130760-week-148-december-13-20-stories-topic-witchcraft#comment_63848515" target="_blank">Darrens</a>. Here's the first paragraph:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I walk the one hundred twenty three steps from my desk by the elevators to the cafeteria and congratulate myself on not having thought about her. Unfortunately, this involves thinking about her. <b><i>I touch my left earlobe with my right index finger.</i></b></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Initially this wasn't strong enough to blog, even as the second of two funny <i>fushigis</i>.<br />
<br />
<b><i>First One Last.</i></b> Okay, not the <i>first</i> first in this book, but the first since the last time I blogged a <i>fushigi</i> from this book. This one started on December 18th. Again, in the WSS, but this time in the <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/333178-tpbm" target="_blank">TPBM</a> (The Person Below Me) thread, when M posted <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/333178?format=html&page=48&utm_content=A&utm_medium=email&utm_source=comment_instant#comment_63761049" target="_blank"># 2397</a>. He wrote: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>TPBM sometimes gets chocolate on the keyboard.</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
The following day ML called up from the living room. She was impressed by a computer tech pre-Christmas 'news' story that covered, amongst other things, <b><i>a kid-proof computer keyboard</i></b>.<br />
<br />
The following day, when I recommenced perusing <i>Stanley Park</i> I was amused to read:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Angela's idea [for her own restaurant] was Grazer, a high-concept tapas Web bar. Satay, tofu spears, samosas and slivers of super-fusion designer pizza. Caviar and quail egg was mentioned. The Web part centred on the stand-up tables with shelves for the tapas dishes and pop-up, active-matrix, flat screens. <b><i>Waterproof touch-pad keyboards</i></b> (324).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">By itself, not worthy of noting as a <i>fushigi</i>, but first of three in a row.<br />
<br />
<b><i>Aside</i></b><br />
I debated about including this, but… well, here it is. A little earlier, on the 17th, in post <a href="
http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/333178?format=html&page=48&utm_content=A&utm_medium=email&utm_source=comment_instant#comment_63732519" target="_blank">#2380</a> of TPBM thread I wrote:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thank you Al and Christa for your confidence in my writing! OMG, now I'm feeling so much pressure! Me and my big fat mouth! I'm having trouble breathing.... [clunk a;ldkfja;sdlkfha;sdofja;sldfjka;sdfjka;sdfjka;sdfkjas;dfjas;dlfjas;dflkasdf — oops, sorry about that. Head fell forward <b><i>onto keyboard</i></b>.]</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b><i>End of Fushigi Triptych.</i></b><br />
<br />
<b><i>Book Review Resumes and Closes — an extended citation</i></b><br />
Here is a passage I flagged while reading <i>SP</i> to include in my blog book review.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Shitty week," Jeremy snapped. But he stopped at that, because in the Professor's eyes, those impervious eyes, there was a colour that he recognized. A shade of bruising. A shade of vulnerability. He lowered his voice. "How is Caruzo?"<br />
<br />
"Sends his best."<br />
<br />
Jeremy steadied himself.<br />
<br />
The Professor spoke first. "There was a woman in the park on the day they died."<br />
<br />
Jeremy dropped his head. God.<br />
<br />
"She saw something that day... someone..."<br />
<br />
Jeremy turned and stepped into the street. The Professor remained on the grass. He held the last inch of his park. "The two are meant to be together," he said, talking to Jeremy's back. "Just as the two were drawn from the same soil, so too must the same soil hold them...."<br />
<br />
The strange words.<br />
<br />
Jeremy spun, standing in the middle of the empty nighttime street. From her expensive apartment window high in the concrete and glass monolith behind them, had the resilient old lady of the West End risen for a nocturnal glass of grapefruit juice just then, she might have looked down and seen a small, charged scene on her quiet street. A rumpled figure, tired, authoritative, holding court on the grass by the curb, his arms crossed, his head back looking at the sky. And opposite him, a leaner, younger frame of a discernibly similar type, angular, also in black, hands in his jacket pockets rigidly, critically, dubiously. Staring at the older cast of himself.<br />
<br />
"From the file in the library," Jeremy said.<br />
<br />
The Professor pantomimed applause.<br />
<br />
"And if you've read it," Jeremy went on, "may I ask why I—"<br />
<br />
"Because you are a part of what is going on here."<br />
<br />
Jeremy stared. He didn't want to know. He plunged.<br />
<br />
"I accepted an offer." Even to his own ear, the words clanked coldly out into the night air between them, but he couldn't have predicted that the statement would bring the Professor's arms limply to his sides, that it would pull him a step forward. Out of the park. Onto the curb. Into the gutter. The Professor was staring at his son, his blood. Standing in the street, in the city. "Oh, you have made such a mistake."<br />
<br />
"It's a good deal. It gives me freedom."<br />
<br />
"Freedom. So many things done in this name."<br />
<br />
Freedom from debt, Jeremy tried to say, but the Professor was looking past him now. Over his shoulder and up between the buildings. Beyond. He was whispering.<br />
<br />
"Too often, I think, the desire for freedom masks the desire for destruction."<br />
<br />
The words a thin stream. A last breath.<br />
<br />
"You want to destroy everything around you, everything you have created for yourself or been given by others. To be free."<br />
<br />
Tapering. Diminishing. Losing angularity, presence, power.<br />
<br />
"Natural for you, perfectly natural," the Professor whispered. "Natural to refuse the key that is given. To be blind in the darkness of knowing. To be filled with a dark light that we must shine on the people around us. A light that makes us weep and pull down our own houses."<br />
<br />
The wind spoke in the cherry trees, a hissing speech through purple leaves and thin black branches. The city hummed, hypnotic. Winding through the deepest part of a Wednesday night.<br />
<br />
"Come stay with me," Jeremy said. He could hardly hear his own words. "Do your research but sleep in a bed. Write your notes at a table. You could shave."<br />
<br />
"Stay involved," the Professor said. Back. Alert. "Stay interested."<br />
<br />
No second for an answer. He turned. He descended the hill at a determined trot. He threaded through the cherry trees, from the branches of which hung the fruits of their joint linkage to this place.<br />
<br />
Around the lagoon went the Professor, dwindling down, then swallowed by the darkness (195-7).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-53893266035005148752012-12-24T15:35:00.000-08:002012-12-24T15:52:11.357-08:002012.12.23 — Lullaby for Pi: Movie Review<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OyuBu79widH3II2JqChiqrKCF8kjG5oJrnv_GxzlDeZh7py46j2e25ZIBA_abc-uk83KMCg1yk48nxjAJaizo3S8aKejidkjESwyFE4GyQ1Q-gQADNPGBD1DWbs5TqIh5W0lMzY5Q466/s1600/LullabyForPi.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OyuBu79widH3II2JqChiqrKCF8kjG5oJrnv_GxzlDeZh7py46j2e25ZIBA_abc-uk83KMCg1yk48nxjAJaizo3S8aKejidkjESwyFE4GyQ1Q-gQADNPGBD1DWbs5TqIh5W0lMzY5Q466/s400/LullabyForPi.png" width="298" /></a></div>Have you seen the small independent film <i>Lullaby for Pi</i>? No? Well, no surprise. This joint Canada / France production (2010) has received a rating of 6.2 from a whopping 205 raters in IMDb. But, more interestingly, a total of 0 (zero) viewer and critic reviews on <a href="http://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/lullaby-for-pi/" target="_blank">Rotten Tomatoes</a>. I found a French critic's review: <a href="http://www.filmosphere.com/movie-review/critique-lullaby-lullaby-for-pi-2010/" target="_blank">Nicolas Gilli</a>, which is on a France-based web-page and is in, no surprise, French. Nothing in the (English) Wikipedia. A Google search will bring up a couple of reviews, for example, <a href="http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/review/lullaby-pi-film-review-58448" target="_blank">The Hollywood Reporter's</a> castigation that <i>LFP</i> is </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>… a ludicrous romance so full of clichés and forced whimsy that it is nearly unwatchable.</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
Basically, this is a movie that for all intents and purposes, doesn't quite exist. I don't remember having heard anything about the movie, but came across it by accident while flipping through the movie listings on TV. <i><b>And that is a shame!</b></i> Okay, it hasn't gone completely unnoticed, as the <a href="http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/lullaby-for-pi" target="_blank">tumblr</a> people seemed to like it, and their blog is filled with images.<br />
<br />
<b>Synopsis:</b> young brilliant musician goes into a deep depression with the death of his wife and stops music. Instead he spends his time in the hotel room where he first met her, waiting for her to call. A young woman, who doesn't want him to see her face and who lost several years of her youth to being in a coma, forms a friendship with him through the bathroom door. And, like magic, and with the help of the kindly chess playing hotel desk man, the two eccentric people tentatively and quirkily begin to live. He, again, she for the first time. <br />
<br />
And it is the quirkiness that I can see being a thumbs down for some. Why? I've been struggling to articulate my thoughts, but it comes to what may be an odd split in the human population between those who delight in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magic_realism" target="_blank">Magical Realism</a> versus those who delight in cartoon violence or the un-magical realism of saccharine sentimental (happy / sad) movies. The emotional life of the characters is brought forward in the storytelling through exaggerated setting and character. So the young woman struggling to find her place in the world hides in the bathroom of the man having lost his place. Each have erected a wall between themselves and the world which, by the magic of life, is embodied in the locked bathroom door.<br />
<br />
And thus we see a visual metaphor dance around the theme of finding/losing/rediscovering one's voice. The metaphor is re-enforced with the subplot of the young musician who has to struggle to keep his own musical voice while it is being excoriated by the good-intentioned father. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRMDKNJf37emK-B7bCWcO-D1buiucmWiGCtQTT2yfGM5v829MyZfof-Ok9GK8dLRRJM3AiEce2EPrRmoajnclevXK0ME1b_DL0QBPfA3tCALmCOOLKXVq5GZzPSBJa67-PGgUmeV8_W5H/s1600/ForestWhitaker-Pi.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRMDKNJf37emK-B7bCWcO-D1buiucmWiGCtQTT2yfGM5v829MyZfof-Ok9GK8dLRRJM3AiEce2EPrRmoajnclevXK0ME1b_DL0QBPfA3tCALmCOOLKXVq5GZzPSBJa67-PGgUmeV8_W5H/s400/ForestWhitaker-Pi.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
And, in the best of a magical realism typical of many Canadian writers, such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barbara_Gowdy" target="_blank">Barbara Gowdy</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Margaret_Atwood" target="_blank">Margaret Atwood</a>, the theme is explored in different ways. The young woman begins to find her voice using mute media: she uses film frames clipped from the movies she's paid by a theatre company to project and, with a kind of homage to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Timothy_Findley" target="_blank">Timothy Findley's</a> novel <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29881.Famous_Last_Words" target="_blank"><i>Famous Last Words</i></a>, journal writing on the wall of her loft that she would paint over until the day she met Sam…<br />
<br />
This is a fun movie. The directing kept it light, and the performances by the leads are engaging and don't fall into maudlin sentimentality. Forest Whitaker as their unassuming spiritual guide was perfect in the role. The filmography is good and contributes to the story with its own subtle quirkiness. And the music is also excellent. As is noted, <a href="http://youtu.be/9nOd5_Bdc8I" target="_blank">Charlie Winston</a> contributes perfectly to the <a href="http://www.allobo.com/en/soundtrack-lullaby-for-pi-5389.html" target="_blank">sound track</a>, including Rupert Friend's extemporaneous blues/jazz 'hit' <a href="http://vimeo.com/28617741" target="_blank">I'm in Love With a Bathroom</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
★★★★☆<br />
<br />
Director: </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6600cc;">Benoît Philippon</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Actors:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6600cc;"> Andre Richards, Clémence Poésy, Colin Lawrence, Dewshane Williams, Forest Whitaker, Matt Ward, Rupert Friend, Sarah Wayne Callies</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
<br />
Finally, in the most peculiar and delightful of ways, <i>LFP</i> participated in a delicious as <i>Pi</i> <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.ca/2012/12/20121216-pi-fight-it-31416-fushigis-and.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a> on the day I watched the movie.</span><br />
Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-29013730109283708072012-12-15T20:13:00.000-08:002019-03-04T20:29:58.529-08:002012.12.15 — The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe: Finished in 1992(?) and Fushigi*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I wrote a review of <i>Bonfire of the Vanities</i> on 2012.12.14 to post on <a href="www.goodreads.com" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>. When I wrote it I was going to leave it there because I read <i>BotV</i> in the early 90s and because I felt <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j2PD3K-3VFFd3YBXqOBbrxgteUnCeaEoQiGmCBPnlXPcS7345L3zJiqB2tjbMQLY1ndyWJf5LwVyVDCvxfT5RGyIJgQI0iO6f13pnLiOsWCwvVXrM8FBkhIVchWfkI9YplQd8giznsPb/s1600/StanleyPark.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3j2PD3K-3VFFd3YBXqOBbrxgteUnCeaEoQiGmCBPnlXPcS7345L3zJiqB2tjbMQLY1ndyWJf5LwVyVDCvxfT5RGyIJgQI0iO6f13pnLiOsWCwvVXrM8FBkhIVchWfkI9YplQd8giznsPb/s200/StanleyPark.png" width="130"></a></div>compelled to wrote a contrary voice to the effusive praise and awards this book has undeservedly received. I finished editing and posting the 'Goodreads' review around 1am.<br />
<br />
Before you get to read the review, however, I'll introduce the remarkable <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a>. This morning, I resumed my perusal of <a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/books/177041/stanley-park-by-timothy-taylor" target="_blank">Stanley Park</a> by Canadian (Vancouver) writer, <a href="http://www.timothytaylor.ca/books/stanley-park" target="_blank">Timothy Taylor</a> (ISBN 9780307363596). <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazMjyVcTmpxWGK-E6hEcUj4erbGZ8CullBjNYslt-mmOepo0qWVVZH2Tf8pVHW1n73Yh8Ea3748zDP8h1yzKEJDplSHC1965FHX8PNSUwq6ZiVJhceW5Ar9Xg0covfjIt8odhifR19u5F/s1600/WillWorkForFood2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="247" width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjazMjyVcTmpxWGK-E6hEcUj4erbGZ8CullBjNYslt-mmOepo0qWVVZH2Tf8pVHW1n73Yh8Ea3748zDP8h1yzKEJDplSHC1965FHX8PNSUwq6ZiVJhceW5Ar9Xg0covfjIt8odhifR19u5F/s320/WillWorkForFood2.png"></a></div>At the bottom of the page where against which my mark sat were the words <b><i>Will Work For Food</i></b> in italics. Here's the paragraph that that text finishes:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He stood and approached this tree-like diorama and began to examine its leaves and branches. There were childhood pictures, here. There, a wedding picture he had not seen before. The <a href="http://www.pelikan.com/pulse/Pulsar/en_US.CMS.displayCMS.61808./time-and-styles-pass-the-brand-remains-untouched" target="_blank">Pelikan pen</a> itself Scotch-taped to the wall in a cluster that included a letter from the dean of anthropology approving extended sick leave. A page torn from <a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/Will_Work_for_Food_Or.html?id=sxI8Os6cLV8C&redir_esc=y" target="_blank">Will Work for Food</a> (276).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now that, as it turns out, is a remarkable <i>fushigi</i> because of what I <b><i>didn't</i></b> include in my review of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Bonfire_of_the_Vanities" target="_blank">Bonfire of the Vanities</a>.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCaEgt-HSweiWDnO_uakXfMpwkMhKnaFx8VpFZzIRnOnVLWTjpGr6gaNOGv-TM4xReOa4gOUtVMOgkZDECEyTFNH3RhYX2dHikQd0pkywX9sVWNk-KmorB-ZSirFbrIPMoNkEsjGCl3K1/s1600/BonfireOfTheVanities.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPCaEgt-HSweiWDnO_uakXfMpwkMhKnaFx8VpFZzIRnOnVLWTjpGr6gaNOGv-TM4xReOa4gOUtVMOgkZDECEyTFNH3RhYX2dHikQd0pkywX9sVWNk-KmorB-ZSirFbrIPMoNkEsjGCl3K1/s1600/BonfireOfTheVanities.png"></a></div><br />
<a href="http://us.macmillan.com/thebonfireofthevanities/TomWolfe" target="_blank">Bonfire of the Vanities</a><br />
by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Wolfe" target="_blank">Tom Wolfe</a>. Macmillan. ISBN: 9780312427573 or ISBN10: 0312427573.<br />
<br />
★☆☆☆☆<br />
<br />
Here's the review I wrote:<br />
<br />
This was one of the few books I've read because of the chit chat around it. The movie, which I felt had potential but which I thought was ultimately a directorial failure, was the final element that brought me to pick this book up. I was curious at how the movie failed and needed to read the book to see if my impression that it was a directorial failure was accurate or not. My reading that book did not answer that question with any certainty because <i>BotV</i> has become one of the touch stone books marking me as an outsider to the society <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIYBhgTNPgEX-IS9CHglkYEH0OxD7RVgBlgtFYY8ALvXB-9IqQvhk1fu2-qQG-tVlaWNnEMdIiwzfY4Eq7aV3JR1xrAAAbEp-j1qxh-1yDGWHeEJrZ2LvrakUdCXyMTDJ-XROHZq30xrp/s1600/TomWolfe.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxIYBhgTNPgEX-IS9CHglkYEH0OxD7RVgBlgtFYY8ALvXB-9IqQvhk1fu2-qQG-tVlaWNnEMdIiwzfY4Eq7aV3JR1xrAAAbEp-j1qxh-1yDGWHeEJrZ2LvrakUdCXyMTDJ-XROHZq30xrp/s320/TomWolfe.png" width="275"></a></div>within which I live. Its award winning popularity is a complete mystery to me. Poorly written, it has uninteresting characters and characterization espousing a heavy handed superficial morality — sort of. My few observations of Wolfe in book interviews did not in any way dissuade me that he is an overrated wind-bag, filled with ego and hubris and little of what I would consider critical intelligence. It struck me that he was an advocate of American hegemony both domestic and foreign.<br />
<br />
So, with that in mind it was with surprise and even fascination that I read a Tom Wolfe encomium of American domestic practices under Reagan get severely castigated by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noam_Chomsky
" target="_blank">Noam Chomsky</a>. In his satirically way, Chomsky basically puts Wolfe's social commentary into the ranks of the rantings of a delusional apologist for the greed-based policies that successfully impoverished the majority to the benefit of the very few. So, in a perversion of a 'proper' book review, here is a taste of Chomsky chastising Tom Wolfe — note, I hadn't even heard of Chomsky before reading <i>BotV</i>:</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...<br />
What the [economic] "paradox" [in 1992 of a 'Weak Economy but Strong Profits'] entails for the general population is demonstrated by numerous studies of income distribution, real wages, poverty, hunger, infant mortality, and other social indices. A study released by the Economic Policy Institute on Labor Day, 1992, fleshed out the details of what people know from their experience: after a decade of Reaganism, "most Americans are working longer hours for lower wages and considerably less security," and "the vast majority" are "in many ways worse off" than in the late 1970s. From 1987, real wages have declined even for the college educated. "Poverty rates were high by historic standards," and "those in poverty in 1989 were significantly poorer than the poor in 1979." The poverty rate rose further in 1991, the Census Bureau reported. A congressional report released a few days later estimates that hunger has grown by 50 percent since the mid-1980s to some 30 million people. Other studies show that one of eight children under 12 suffers from hunger, a problem that reappeared in 1982 after having been overcome by government programs from the 1960s. Two researchers report that in New York, the proportion of children raised in poverty more than doubled to 40 percent, while nationwide, "the number of hungry American children grew by 26 percent" as aid for the poor shrank during "the booming 1980s"—<b>"one of the great golden moments that humanity has ever experienced," a spokesman for the culture of cruelty proclaimed (Tom Wolfe <i>Boston Globe</i> February 1990)</b> <i>[I did a Google and found these relatively contemporary items: <a href="http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/health/articles/2011/07/28/ranks_of_hungry_children_swell_worrying_doctors/" target="_blank">A Rising Hunger Among Children</a> and <a href="http://www.wsws.org/articles/2011/aug2011/maln-a03.shtml" target="_blank">Infant Malnutrition at Staggering Levels in Massachusetts</a>.]</i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9I4kyc98eP8qBaxntEmIvpTh9x1bh1Jbkclzr9VpBlGDSBTi3nhT11kr1pHnx0a79qFK2gWF_P_bJ2q4mUgSDqNkBjZmkvrY8Xjfn0vlDB2kMrn10_EquNJVvOQFfxmMIIAK2yYorbUof/s1600/Year501001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9I4kyc98eP8qBaxntEmIvpTh9x1bh1Jbkclzr9VpBlGDSBTi3nhT11kr1pHnx0a79qFK2gWF_P_bJ2q4mUgSDqNkBjZmkvrY8Xjfn0vlDB2kMrn10_EquNJVvOQFfxmMIIAK2yYorbUof/s200/Year501001.jpg" width="128"></a></div><br />
The impact is brought out forcefully in more narrowly-focused studies; for example, at the Boston City Hospital, where researchers found that "the number of malnourished, low-weight children jumped dramatically following the coldest winter months," when parents had to face the agonizing choice between heat or food. At the hospital's clinic for malnourished children, more were treated in the first nine months of 1992 than in all of 1991; the wait for care reached two months, compelling the staff to "resort to triage." Some suffer from Third World levels of malnutrition and require hospitalization, victims of "the social and financial calamities that have befallen families" and the "massive retrenchment in social service programs" (<i>Boston Globe</i> September 8, 25, 1992). </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>By the side of a road, men hold signs that read "Will Work for Food," a sight that recalls the darkest days of the Great Depression.</i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/38343.Year_501" target="_blank">Year 501: The Conquest Continues</a>, p280-1).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am being a little mean here, I fully acknowledge. But in the few Wolfe interviews I saw, I found myself becoming angry that a bad writer was being heralded as a visionary and truth seeker to be paraded by the media in their campaign to mis-represent the extent of income polarity and impoverishment that is the direct result of American policies that are benefiting very few, but doing so to a staggering degree.<br />
<b>End of Goodreads Review</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQs4MSRNhJUpj9lQtTRnaAb8YSKQf_NSWEI6j9xEjc76CYunV2t8KXyHqRJcYI7n1zOVevOHaKok6v9wQWpcnse6lNGsZeg-yu4qA9kVgTvyX7Ci82Aw8QlfsZy8nkRzXkBv1vBB1IvcVU/s1600/NoamChomsky5.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQs4MSRNhJUpj9lQtTRnaAb8YSKQf_NSWEI6j9xEjc76CYunV2t8KXyHqRJcYI7n1zOVevOHaKok6v9wQWpcnse6lNGsZeg-yu4qA9kVgTvyX7Ci82Aw8QlfsZy8nkRzXkBv1vBB1IvcVU/s320/NoamChomsky5.png" width="222"></a></div>What made the highlighted text above not just a <i>fushigi</i>, but a remarkable one is that when I originally cited Chomsky in the review I <b><i>omitted</i></b> that line, and only that line. I remembered reading it, but because I was squeezing my citation I felt that that line wasn't necessary to make the point I was trying to make. I have, since then, edited the review to include it.<br />
<br />
<b>Post-Script 2012.12.16:</b><br />
And I know this is completely irrelevant, and totally meaningless, but I have found it a little bemusing that the colour of covers of <i>Year 501</i> and <i>Stanley Park</i> is almost identical. I have no idea why I am writing this down. When I first noticed it I dismissed that detail as trivial and uninteresting and likely to make me look like an idiot if I were to put it out here. But, each time I pick up <i>Stanley Park</i> to recommence my perusal — I'm now page 278 now — that thought gets into my brain and buzzes around for a while. So, I have written this post script to stop that thought from floating around and to fully prove my madness to the few who read my blog. (But then, those few will already know that I am mad.)</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-9222015216627624032012-12-08T18:58:00.000-08:002012-12-09T10:17:21.467-08:00The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow: Finished 2012.12.08 & a Small Fushigi*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJK2h81Rq6Fep89m2GspZMsGNrPQH1DagcS9e3EE5XVPF6Hs9559t2HrBlNnoX8nMXbMdMKMF2c3MRjuBHwZ6ILinj6fDqLfjZQCQ2ONl0EzXrUO2WBmM_XDgsfRR4BVV3DRA4XdUkQKSx/s1600/SingingCreekCover001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJK2h81Rq6Fep89m2GspZMsGNrPQH1DagcS9e3EE5XVPF6Hs9559t2HrBlNnoX8nMXbMdMKMF2c3MRjuBHwZ6ILinj6fDqLfjZQCQ2ONl0EzXrUO2WBmM_XDgsfRR4BVV3DRA4XdUkQKSx/s200/SingingCreekCover001.jpg" width="209" /></a></div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benjamin_Hoff" target="_blank">Benjamin Hoff</a>, editor and biographer.<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opal_Whiteley" target="_blank">Opal Whiteley</a>, author.<br />
<a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/The_singing_creek_where_the_willows_grow.html?id=PXVbAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y" target="_blank">The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow: The Rediscovered Diary of Opal Whiteley</a>. New York, Ticknor & Fields 1986. ISBN 0899194443.<br />
<br />
Began 2012.09.22<br />
Finished 2012.10.14<br />
<br />
★★★★★<br />
<br />
<br />
At <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3949789-m" target="_blank">M's</a> terse and cryptic recommendation I bought this book on-line. It was delivered to work and, as is her habit, when my friend BV saw it asked 'May I read that please?' She is endlessly fascinated by the books I bring to work, and has read many from my library. And since I was at the time busy reading <a href="http://books.google.ca/books?id=GYhajCQU8XIC&lpg=PP1&pg=PP1#v=onepage&q&f=false" target="_blank">Debt: The First 5,000 Years</a>, I said 'Okay.'<br />
<br />
She couldn't put it down, and proceeded to read it twice, back-to-back. It has gone to near the top of her all time favourite books list and BV has read a lot of books.<br />
<br />
And, likewise <i>tSCWtWG</i> is now jostling for position in my top 50 books. Hoff's description of finding the lost book in the first place resonated with me because he has described how it is that I have found many of the books that have been most important to me in my life: a serendipity and the feeling that I can 'hear' them calling out to me to be read. And likewise, I had that feeling when I read M's recommendation, which rarely happens when I get book recommendations from people.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho00zAJ4ew91IALKgJNY3hJzvTcnEgjZMDlrM_WlcQCEr47nifwCEyITP3ciw55ZkTejdAthgMZBv1RsQ4tFPhkSetW_iWz3k93rRode3N2yifP_3jsGjo0u3VaFYsR36xQ29mtOUxZ7IY/s1600/BenjaminHoff.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho00zAJ4ew91IALKgJNY3hJzvTcnEgjZMDlrM_WlcQCEr47nifwCEyITP3ciw55ZkTejdAthgMZBv1RsQ4tFPhkSetW_iWz3k93rRode3N2yifP_3jsGjo0u3VaFYsR36xQ29mtOUxZ7IY/s200/BenjaminHoff.png" width="139" /></a></div>Hoff has created a book of strong contrasts and clashing ambivalent emotions. So strong that they make this a book hard to describe. It begins with his short biography of Whitelely, which is really more a vindication of her having been libelled and dismissed as a fraud than a biography. In doing his research Hoff came to understand that Whitelely had been willfully destroyed by a malevolent press.<br />
<br />
Hoff's brief account left me feeling enraged by what is to me an example of a bloodlust and scapegoating by a mob of journalists that collectively decided to suspend their professional and social <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIVc_W_XdFI_nuOUACQmTHjlQuLZyxQcDi-tWZ2sKJ4d_5SHRILYC1cdv2hQfqpocJ0yZKRF1ko32RsIwsnWj0z2S_AR2Jkm7GYh7LMkw_Qx1LK04fR37lT76Ajivo3BktVi3OJY0f9Aw6/s1600/RobertBlywithMic.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: .5em;"><img border="0" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIVc_W_XdFI_nuOUACQmTHjlQuLZyxQcDi-tWZ2sKJ4d_5SHRILYC1cdv2hQfqpocJ0yZKRF1ko32RsIwsnWj0z2S_AR2Jkm7GYh7LMkw_Qx1LK04fR37lT76Ajivo3BktVi3OJY0f9Aw6/s200/RobertBlywithMic.png" width="200" /></a></div>responsibility in order to demonstrate that they have the power to destroy the life of someone who somehow magically embodied the magical spirit of the earth and life. The near religious zealotry of the defamation against this life-spirit reminded me of something I read in <a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/News_of_the_Universe.html?id=4OOk3ryCuu4C&redir_esc=y" target="_blank">News of the Universe: Poems of Twofold Consciousness</a>, edited by American poet <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Bly" target="_blank">Robert Bly</a>. From an 1999 English seminar I wrote about this idea:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJhkdOby1-17poXInarCyDcbhSof_GubRNyjpNmC2h9n7CJEIc_RALUQiPkQ3T2JVtHUewFzwo7riw7qGNrkNsSjsXXME-F_YnZbIGCyX6JxgBBLJ5hyphenhyphenwPCPygTbzcQAIywJnFIWs1q3X/s1600/WilliamBlake.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: .5em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJhkdOby1-17poXInarCyDcbhSof_GubRNyjpNmC2h9n7CJEIc_RALUQiPkQ3T2JVtHUewFzwo7riw7qGNrkNsSjsXXME-F_YnZbIGCyX6JxgBBLJ5hyphenhyphenwPCPygTbzcQAIywJnFIWs1q3X/s200/WilliamBlake.png" width="154" /></a></div>Both <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Blake" target="_blank">William Blake</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novalis" target="_blank">Novalis</a> very clearly saw that a key aspect to the empiricist's "truth" was the arbitrary and hypocritical denial of the sensual part of the empirical world. That the empiricists were able to "rationally" assert this denial of life is only marginally less astounding than their being successful in doing it! This was why both Blake and Novalis stressed the sensual in their works — they knew what the empiricists were unconscious of, which is that they had arbitrary accepted Christian notions of the earth and female as vile and devoid of life. Robert Bly cites a blunt, but typical, example of the roots of that empiricism being anchored in conventional Christian mythology:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The French Priest Bossuet, writing at about the same time as Descartes, expressed in this passage one of the more prevalent Christian attitudes towards nature:<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">May the earth be cursed, may the earth be cursed, a thousand times be cursed because from it that heavy fog and those black vapours continually rise that ascend from the dark passions and hide heaven and its light from us and draw down the lightening of God's justice against the corruption of the human race.</span></i><br />
<br />
[Bly continues:] This attitude was acceptable to the Church Fathers and to developing capitalism. When we deny there is consciousness in nature, we also deny consciousness to the worlds we find by going through nature (<i>News of the Universe</i> 9).</blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is no wonder that Blake wrote "The Eternal Female groand! it was heard all over the world" or that Novalis wrote "They [the shallow men] have no idea that it is [the Numinous Night] who subtly embraces the breasts of the young girl, and turns her darkened cave into the Garden of Delight, and have no clue that you are the one ... opening the world of delight ... at the edge of the old stories..." (<i>News of the Universe</i> 49).<br />
<br />
Blake's <i>Marriage of Heaven and Hell</i> and Novalis' <i>Hymns to the Night</i> are celebrations of all that the empiricists manage to deny in their sensual world, namely the sensual, the feminine, sexuality and the unconscious. That science is puritanical in its structure and actions can be linked straight back to the widespread acceptance of Newton's single vision which is firmly grounded in his Puritan beliefs.</span></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whiteley's diary is one of the most spiritual sensual examples of the written word I have ever come across, and I can't help but think that her voice was the voice of capital 'L' Life that an industrialized, greed-biased anti-life society found threatening and needed to crush.<br />
<br />
And the connection to Blake is, on reflection, quite astounding beyond it coming to me as an out and out surprise. Blake extolled the spirituality of the physical, too. And in deceptively simple writing. <br />
<br />
I have seen other reviewers who waffle on Hoff's vindication, perhaps falling back on the 'there's two sides to every story' rationale. But Hoff's attention to detail, combined with my having become more fully aware of the social malevolence of the press, has convinced me of the evil done to Whitelely, and that it was willfully done by an agenda-ed press with the desire to hurt.<br />
<br />
However, once you dive into Whiteley childhood writing, the charm, the elegance, the detail, the love Whitelely has for nature is astounding. Life is more alive with her writing than I have ever experienced before. And even the word love, which has become overused in our age of Hallmark greeting cards and texting, may not describe the feeling so much as rapture: Whitely was enraptured by nature. If I could I would reproduce the entire text here, but will limit myself to a blind random pick. Well, I thought I'd do a couple, but I flipped to Chapter Twenty-One: <b><i>Cathedral Service in the Barn; a Lamb for Opal, and a Lily for Peter Paul Reubens</i></b>, and the first few pages of this chapter are likely enough to give you a good sense of the book. And, I suspect it will be either something you will love or hate.<a name="OpalWhiteley"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zDWBdRXdRVzedJSoe4zkunqvEvaNgYdhFxjUjEl_bllr4qK5GKl98E5ynvP2afH8qEKGgDFOBF_2Dzzb4G8cdZ-MQrIF94bEqTGzh4FiNcZ6KmI64tWIzNo0dUf5Q0WnVJozbg58fb3b/s1600/SingingCreekCh21-Header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zDWBdRXdRVzedJSoe4zkunqvEvaNgYdhFxjUjEl_bllr4qK5GKl98E5ynvP2afH8qEKGgDFOBF_2Dzzb4G8cdZ-MQrIF94bEqTGzh4FiNcZ6KmI64tWIzNo0dUf5Q0WnVJozbg58fb3b/s200/SingingCreekCh21-Header.jpg" width="200" /></a></div></span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
Today was a very stormy day — more rainy than other stormy days. So we had cathedral service on the hay, in the barn.<br />
<br />
Mathilde Plantagenet [the baby calf of the gentle Jersey cow, that came on the night of the coming of Elsie's baby] was below us in her stall, and she did moo moos while I did sing the choir-service. Plato and Pliny, the two bats, hung on the rafters in a dark corner. Lars Porsena of Clusium [a pet crow with a fondness for collecting things] perched on the back of Brave Horatius [the shepherd dog]. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus [a most dear velvety wood-rat] sat at my feet and munched leaves while I said prayers. Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil [a toad] was on my right shoulder, and Louis II, Ie Grand Conde [a wood-mouse with likes to ride in the sleeve of my red dress], was on my left shoulder, part of the time; then he did crawl in my sleeve, to have a sleep. Solomon Grundy [a very dear baby pig] was asleep by my side in his christening robe, and a sweet picture he was in it. On my other side was his little sister, Anthonya Mundy, who has not got as much curl in her tail as has [her brother] Solomon Grundy.<br />
<br />
Clementine, the Plymouth Rock hen, was late come to service. She came up from the stall of the gentle Jersey cow, just when I was through singing <i>"Hosanna in excelsis."</i> She came and perched on the back of Brave Horatius, back of Lars Porsena of Clusium. Then I said more prayers, and Brave Horatius did bark Amen. When he so did, Clementine tumbled off his back. She came over by me. I had thinks it would be nice if her pretty gray feathers were blue. I gave her a gentle pat, and then I did begin the talk service. I did use for my text, <i>"Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see God."</i><br />
<br />
And all of the time, the raindrops did make little joy patters on the roof. They were coming down from the sky in a quick way.<br />
<br />
Now is the begins of the borning-time of the year. I did hurry home from school in a quick way, in the afternoon of this day. Aidan of lona [a sheep] come from Lindisfarne has said I may name the little lambs that now are coming. All day, I did have thinks about what names to call them by. There are some names I do so like to sing the spell of. Some names I do sing over and over again when I do go on explores. I could hardly wait waits until school-getting-out-time. I had remembers how Sadie McKibben [a comforter in time of trouble] says no child should grow a day old without having a name. Now some of those dear baby lambs are two and three days old, since their borning-time.<br />
<br />
When I was come to where was Aidan of lona come from Lindisfarne, I did tell him, "Now I have come to name all your lambs!" He did have one little lamb in his arms. He did tell me as how it was it didn't belong to anyone, and it was lonesome without a mother. He said he had thinks he would give it to <i>me</i> to mother. I was so happy. It was very white, and very soft, and its legs was slim. And it had wants for a mother. It had likes for me to put my arms around it. I did name it first of all — I called it Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides. It had likes for the taste of my fingers when I did dip them into the pan of milk on the rock and then put them in its mouth. Its woolly tail did wiggle joy wiggles, and I did dance on my toes. I felt such a big amount of satisfaction feels, having a lamb to mother. I am getting quite a big family, now.<br />
<br />
After I did dip my fingers in the milk for Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides, I was going goes to see about getting a brandy bottle somewhere and a nipple, so this baby lamb could have a bottle to nurse, like other babies hereabouts. When I did make a start to go, Aidan of lona come from Lindisfarne did say, "You are not going away before you name the others, are you?" Of course I was not. And he said Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides was full up of milk for today, and I could bring his bottle on the morrow.<br />
<br />
Then I did make begins to name the other lambs. They were dear, and so <i>dear</i>. First one I did come to, I did name Plutarch Demosthenes. The next one I did name Marcus Aurelius. And one came close by Aidan of lona come from Lindisfarne, and I called it Epicurus Pythagorus. One did look a little more little than the others. I called him Anacreon Herodotus. One was more big than all the others. I named him Homer Archimedes Chilon, He gave his tail a wiggle, and came close to his mother. One had a more short tail, and a question-look in his eyes, I called him Sophocles Diogenes. And one more, I called Periander Pindar; and one was Solon Thales; and the last one of all that had not yet a name, I did call him Tibullus Theognis. He was a very fuzzy lamb, and he had very long legs.<br />
<br />
The shepherd did have likes for the names I did give to his little lambs, and the names I did give to his sheep, a long time ago. And today, when he did tell me how he did have likes for their names, I did tell him how I have likes for them too, and how I have thinks to learn more about them, when I do grow up more tall. I told him how I did sing the spell of the words to the fishes that live in the singing creek where the willows grow.<br />
<br />
After I said good-bye to all the other lambs, I did kiss Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides on the nose. I have thinks every eventime I will kiss him goodnight, because maybe he does have lonesome feels too, and maybe he does have longs for kisses, like the longs I do have for them every night-time.<br />
<br />
Before I was come to the house we do live in, I did make a stop by the singing creek where the willows grow. I did print a message on a leaf. It was for the soul of William Shakespeare [an oak tree in the lane]. I tied it on a willow branch.<br />
<br />
Then I did go by the cathedral, to say thank prayers for Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides. And I did have remembers that this was the going-away day of Reine Marie Amelie in 1866, and Queen Elizabeth, in 1603. And I did say a thank prayer for the goodness of them. It was near dark-time. There were little whispers in the woods, and shadows with velvet fingers. I did sing, <i>"Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus."</i><br />
<br />
Before I did come on to the house we live in, I did go aside to have sees of a cream lily that has its growing near unto the cathedral. I have watched the leafing of that lily, and I have watched its budding. A long time, I have had thinks about it. Today its blooming-time was come. There it was.<br />
<br />
I went close unto it. My soul was full of thank feels. Ever since the day when Peter Paul Rubens [a very dear pet pig] did go away, I have looked for his soul in tree-tops, and all about. Now I have knows his soul does love to linger by this lily. I did kneel by it, and say a thank prayer for the blooming of this fleur Peter Paul Rubens's soul does love to linger near. If ever I go from here, I will take with me this lily plant. I did have feels that my dear Peter Paul Rubens was very near this eventime (217-21).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is a truly amazing book. Sorry, I'll rephrase. This is a truly amazing example of how extra-ordinary the human animal can be and just how much we miss of the magic of Life in our day-to-day existence. Whiteley is an inspiration to be more aware, more compassionate, more open to the possibility of life.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>Fushigi</i></a> Alert</b><br />
And now for a small amusement. Opal took great pleasure in her mice friends, <i>Felix Mendelssohn</i>, <i>Louis II le Grande Condé</i>, <i>Nannerl Mozart</i>, and the wood-rat, <i>Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus</i>. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJGCy0noQO8xejlTRYygMHXr76sZ7ou3LLT5DDgz0Dj4XlDp9uDKRyndsSpoYSih2kfKPKIkFecC5eMRrGJiDJUX_CCRqqcvuB2rJDhBZsbm4eXgV0U0GkvjUSAskDwMMuAlnYXi_zzxU/s1600/CBCR2-Mouse.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="90" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJGCy0noQO8xejlTRYygMHXr76sZ7ou3LLT5DDgz0Dj4XlDp9uDKRyndsSpoYSih2kfKPKIkFecC5eMRrGJiDJUX_CCRqqcvuB2rJDhBZsbm4eXgV0U0GkvjUSAskDwMMuAlnYXi_zzxU/s320/CBCR2-Mouse.png" width="160" /></a></div>Well, when I began writing this review I stumbled into an amusing blog on the harmonics of mice in, of all places, <a href="http://music.cbc.ca/#/genres/Pop/blogs/2012/10/Step-aside-One-Direction-mice-can-harmonize-too" target="_blank">CBCR2</a>. </span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Step aside One Direction and Backstreet Boys: scientists have found that mice know how to sing in harmony — and they do it to impress females.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And I understand that it is most likely the most tenuous of <i>fushigi</i> connections, but I can't help but think of this as a tiny musical <i>fushigi</i> because Opal saw music in everything, even the water of the singing creek:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I [Benamin Hoff] watched the water as it hurried along. The creek must have been bigger, I thought, before the trees in the area were removed. Before crossing the field to see it, I'd asked the man who lived in the ranch house what it was called. 'Carolyn Creek, Carolina Creek — something like that,' he'd said. He'd seen the name on a map. <i>Caroling</i> Creek would fit it better, I thought. It sang on in a high-pitched slivery voice, like the tinkling of little bells (337).</span></blockquote>This is a truly beautiful, inspiring, and extremely sad read. I cannot recommend it highly enough. And, I now feel compelled to re-read some William Blake, to see just how strong or weak is the connection I intuitively made actually is.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-73576386958948286652012-11-25T00:26:00.000-08:002012-11-25T22:51:50.423-08:002012.11.24 — Jung by Anthony Stevens: Read<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuroD1QITOnTK4Rn1fXKpFxrfnzo-WCrsbo5Im_MUOqd8w_O5GCLpiErGEzylyUjCfB1Yxuhnsxckr7wwPdYyKCRGCgDEUG-oX4KGLFP-OQ7lgZXOFUFUoG9VpQ62e3gzx31eiL9KC-Y2e/s1600/Jung-Stevens040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuroD1QITOnTK4Rn1fXKpFxrfnzo-WCrsbo5Im_MUOqd8w_O5GCLpiErGEzylyUjCfB1Yxuhnsxckr7wwPdYyKCRGCgDEUG-oX4KGLFP-OQ7lgZXOFUFUoG9VpQ62e3gzx31eiL9KC-Y2e/s320/Jung-Stevens040.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Stevens_(Jungian_analyst)" target="_blank">Anthony Stevens</a>.<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_jung" target="_blank"><i>Jung.</i></a><br />
Toronto: <a href="http://www.oupcanada.com/" target="_blank">Oxford University Press</a>, 1994. <a href="http://www.oupcanada.com/catalog/9780192854582.html" target="_blank">ISBN 0192876864</a>. [Note: the link is to 2001 edition, not shown here.]<br />
<br />
Begun: 2012.10.29.<br />
Finished: 2012.11.21.<br />
<br />
★★★★★<br />
<br />
<i>Jung</i> is a tightly written, comprehensive yet short overview of Jung's ideas and biography. Stevens managed to connect how Jung's biography influenced the <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyOqQ2dUJpK_a9uOjKuHEAcZJKAjDU37GU23oLhTbCdGhoBSic8RhXRO_Izud0O8VKZ5qtrT4yR-UbSm7ZmkZd8_S0VeNR68QcsvdtfLbOxnaM40CDukr1GfrQMyUFo1GoYCGPS5v66P5/s1600/AnthonyStevens.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="167" width="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyOqQ2dUJpK_a9uOjKuHEAcZJKAjDU37GU23oLhTbCdGhoBSic8RhXRO_Izud0O8VKZ5qtrT4yR-UbSm7ZmkZd8_S0VeNR68QcsvdtfLbOxnaM40CDukr1GfrQMyUFo1GoYCGPS5v66P5/s320/AnthonyStevens.png" /></a></div>development of his ideas and how influential those ideas have been. Stevens' survey of Jung's relationship with Freud is interesting and balanced, as is his refutation of the anti-semitism charges that have floated around Jung since before the second world war.<br />
<br />
Now after all that praise, I would suggest that <i>Jung</i> is a book without a really strong audience. The book is detailed enough and I suspect generally as accurate as a 3rd party biography can be. But that is its biggest problem. I suspect that many people completely unfamiliar with Jung's writings are likely to come away from this book with an exaggerated understanding of the power and range of Jung's ideas and influence and decide to not read anything else. They will not understand that the reason people read Jung is to begin the journey of self-understanding, what Jung called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Individuation" target="_blank"><i>individuation</i></a>.<br />
<br />
On the other hand, those who are significantly familiar with Jung will not find too much new here. It remains simply a summary and review, albeit a very good one. It does have some nice quotable bits for those interested in quips or sound bites.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mci5ZOl30H6DlXi5rAlmU86DPlmAmraafAQ0pGKlcZOEz14mhzI2VAB5cqls0BP9dNR1NBAsr7Pvpzud6O8tftv8NTrQmSB34Jn4NR8WOCgP8PmblEgvt9JKRyTV5tpwxb2WDSP0S-K6/s1600/NoamChomsky.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="125" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8mci5ZOl30H6DlXi5rAlmU86DPlmAmraafAQ0pGKlcZOEz14mhzI2VAB5cqls0BP9dNR1NBAsr7Pvpzud6O8tftv8NTrQmSB34Jn4NR8WOCgP8PmblEgvt9JKRyTV5tpwxb2WDSP0S-K6/s200/NoamChomsky.png" /></a></div>But what moved this book from just a solid four to five stars was something Stevens observed I had until reading it here thought that I had uniquely noticed. Thank god I am not the only one to have spotted the remarkable similarity between Noam Chomsky's linguistic theories and Jung's conceptualization of the collective unconscious and archetypes (p37). Now, it is possible that other Jungian commentators I have previously read made this connection too, but at a time in my life before I was familiar with Chomsky's linguistic ideas. But I do not remember even one such reference, and definitely haven't seen one since then. Nor have I seen anyone from the Chomsky side making the connection. (For those curious about this, a good overview of Chomsky's linguistics is Justin Leiber's <i>Noam Chomsky: A Philosophic Overview</i>. I have blogged my review of it <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.ca/2012/03/20120313-noam-chomsky-philosophic.html" target="_blank">here</a>.) And in it was my first publication of my perception of the strong equivalent between Jung's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Collective_unconscious" target="_blank">collective unconscious</a> and Chomsky's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deep_structure" target="_blank">Deep Structure</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_grammar" target="_blank">Universal Grammar</a>. (No, the writers of the Wikipedia do not make a similar claim.)<br />
<br />
Furthermore, Chomsky completely eviscerates <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Behaviorism" target="_blank">behaviouralist</a> models as having been completely ineffectual at explaining anything. Jung found the idea that behaviouralism could explain the human experience as untenable as well. Here's Stevens' summary:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">… An archetype, [Jung] said, is not 'an inherited idea' but rather 'an inherited mode of functioning, corresponding to the inborn way in which the chick emerges from the egg, the bird builds its nest, a certain kind of wasp stings the motor ganglion of the caterpillar, and eels find their way to the Bermudas. In other words, it is a "pattern of behaviour". This aspect of the archetype,' concludes Jung, 'the purely biological one, is the proper concern of scientific psychology' (CW XVIII, par. 1228). In a sense, ethology and Jungian psychology can be viewed as two sides of the same coin: it is as if ethologists have been engaged in an extraverted exploration of the archetype and Jungians in an introverted examination of the [biologically postulated] IRM [<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fixed_action_pattern" target="_blank">Innate Releasing Mechanism</a>].<br />
<br />
<b>The currency of archetypal theory</b><br />
<br />
Many other disciplines have produced concepts similar to the archetypal hypothesis, but usually without reference to Jung. For example, the primary concern of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_L%C3%A9vi-Strauss" target="_blank">Claude Levi-Strauss</a> and the French school of <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eQKcApwlhXjhxoA37N4cm-MEeyk6h-m7FPl9fYTgGiAzf3-h81CFRekRO_-ilYMOc1fgM-o0tXxwwCDY8Eyc75LGFUfzYQtJHxaAwmn0r5RSGEstRf0oIArAn9jlI1mT_xKv40mWLG3H/s1600/claude+levi-strauss.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="133" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5eQKcApwlhXjhxoA37N4cm-MEeyk6h-m7FPl9fYTgGiAzf3-h81CFRekRO_-ilYMOc1fgM-o0tXxwwCDY8Eyc75LGFUfzYQtJHxaAwmn0r5RSGEstRf0oIArAn9jlI1mT_xKv40mWLG3H/s200/claude+levi-strauss.png" /></a></div>structural anthropology is with the unconscious <i>infrastructures</i> which they hold responsible for all human customs and institutions; specialists in linguistics maintain that although grammars differ from one another, their basic forms—which Noam Chomsky calls their <i>deep structures</i>—are universal (i.e. at the deepest neuropsychic level, there exists a universal [or 'archetypal'] grammar on which all individual grammars are based), an entirely new discipline, sociobiology, has grown up on the theory that the patterns of behaviour typical of all social species, the human species included, are dependent on genetically transmitted response strategies designed to maximize the fitness of the organism to survive in the environment in which it evolved; sociobiology also holds that the psycho-social development in individual members of a species is dependent on what are termed <i>epigenetic rules</i> [<i>epi</i> = upon, <i>genesis</i> = development; i.e. rules upon which development proceeds); more recently still, ethologically oriented psychiatrists have begun to study what they call psychobiological response patterns and deeply homologous neural structures which they hold responsible for the achievement of healthy or unhealthy patterns of adjustment in individual patients in response to variations in their social environment. All these concepts are compatible with the archetypal hypothesis which lung had proposed decades earlier to virtually universal indifference.<br />
<br />
This raises an important question. If lung's theory of archetypes is so fundamental that it keeps being rediscovered by the practitioners of many other disciplines, why did it not receive the enthusiastic welcome it deserved when Jung proposed it? The explanation is, I think, twofold: namely, the time at which Jung stated the theory, and the way in which he published it.<br />
<br />
In the first place, throughout Jung's mature lifetime, researchers working in university departments of psychology were in the grip of behaviourism, which discounted innate or genetic factors, preferring to view the individual as a <i>tabula rasa</i> whose development was almost entirely dependent on environmental factors. lung's contrary view that the infant comes into the world with an intact blueprint for life which it then proceeds to implement through interaction with the environment, was so at variance with the prevailing <i>Zeitgeist</i> as to guarantee it a hostile reception.<br />
<br />
Secondly, Jung did not state his theory in a clear, testable form, nor did he back it up with sufficiently persuasive evidence. His book <i>Transformations and Symbols of the Libido</i> in which he first put forward his idea of a collective unconscious giving rise to 'primordial images' (as he originally called archetypes) was so densely written and so packed with mythological exegesis as to make it virtually impenetrable to any but the most determined reader. Moreover, in arguing that 'primordial images' were derived from the past history of mankind,<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAumUTG8ZSHms948ALkPfz5qGRKxEYQkWGKGEXzyKgb8L9kfdVbAn13KL_kp81-zYk8G-zeenu5WjdpxwpYxkwddSzWEvx-RpU6S06qOyxfMuYGW-iJ2OZT8hwqHsYdZEzqRAAfbhtfsEW/s1600/Jean-Baptise+Lamark.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAumUTG8ZSHms948ALkPfz5qGRKxEYQkWGKGEXzyKgb8L9kfdVbAn13KL_kp81-zYk8G-zeenu5WjdpxwpYxkwddSzWEvx-RpU6S06qOyxfMuYGW-iJ2OZT8hwqHsYdZEzqRAAfbhtfsEW/s200/Jean-Baptise+Lamark.png" /></a></div>Jung exposed himself to the accusation that he, like Freud, subscribed to the discredited theory of the <i>inheritance of acquired characteristics</i>, originally proposed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean-Baptiste_Lamarck" target="_blank">Jean-Baptiste Lamarck</a> (1744-1829), i.e. that ideas or images occurring in members of one generation could be passed on genetically to the next and subsequent generations.<br />
<br />
In fact, the collective unconscious is a respectable scientific hypothesis and one does not have to adopt a Lamarckian view of biology to entertain it. Indeed, as we have seen, it is entirely compatible with the theoretical formulations of contemporary ethologists, sociobiologists, and psychiatrists. Precisely in order to acquit himself of the charge of Lamarckism Jung eventually made a clear distinction between what he termed the <i>archetype-as-such</i> (similar to Kant's <i>das Ding-an-sich</i>} and the archetypal images, ideas, and behaviours that the archetype-as-such gives rise to. It is the predisposition to have certain experiences that is archetypal and inherited, not the experience itself. The French molecular biologist and Nobel Laureate Jacques Monod reached an identical conclusion: 'Everything comes from experience, yet not from actual experience, reiterated by each individual with each generation, but instead from experience accumulated by the entire ancestry of the species in the course of its evolution.'<br />
<br />
Thus, the Jungian archetype is no more scientifically disreputable than the ethological IRM. Just as the behavioural repertoire of each species is encoded in its central nervous system as innate releasing mechanisms which are activated in the course of development by appropriate sign stimuli, so Jung conceived the programme for human life to be encoded in the collective unconscious as a series of archetypal determinants which are actualized in response to inner and outer events in the course of the life cycle. There is nothing Lamarckian or unbiological in this conception (37-9).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">On the day I began this book, it managed to link itself to a small <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a> involving my friend BH. For the curious you can read the <i>fushigi</i> at <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.ca/2012/10/20121029-another-brush-with-success.html" target="_blank">2012.09.29 —…</a>.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-89696452955714367302012-08-20T17:19:00.000-07:002012-08-21T12:55:51.251-07:002012.08.12 — Gilgamesh by Anonymous finished 2012.07.15<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIxqegHObp844R5w48dLdGL5jLHD0a84D7NKjG2TzADCeXYJZW5jeqYzNDDxL61mTyrfoCNz_9mOYMNrR2FjmcNKqJqlaKNSlmpd5aGEeE6lo0xewGj16__0hN3OAHbp3MXbIoM7D8Iy6/s1600/Gilgameshsm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="190" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIxqegHObp844R5w48dLdGL5jLHD0a84D7NKjG2TzADCeXYJZW5jeqYzNDDxL61mTyrfoCNz_9mOYMNrR2FjmcNKqJqlaKNSlmpd5aGEeE6lo0xewGj16__0hN3OAHbp3MXbIoM7D8Iy6/s320/Gilgameshsm.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I recently re-read a verse translation of the Sumerian epic <i>Gllgamesh</i>, the ancient king of Uruk (Iraq) and his encounter with Enkidu, the man of the wilds.<br />
<br />
Anonymous.<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilgamesh" target="_blank"><i>Gllgamesh</i></a>.<br />
Originally published circa 3000BC. This translation is by Herbert Mason.<br />
Printed by A Mentor Book,<br />
an imprint of The New American Library, Inc.<br />
1972. <br />
This edition lacks an ISBN.<br />
[The New American Library, Inc. is now an imprint of <a href="http://us.penguingroup.com/static/pages/publishers/adult/nal.html" target="_blank">Penguin Books</a>.]<br />
<br />
★★★★★<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrkynH2Y_TvjGXKDS8EYU1GKM-OjXQVi8mTkP5ALwB67RhL0C9u400Oq2AzVy7Vl6jV-LnLyNv4dTFW38o1r4KeniJbsVaw6H5xvgdxd8vcwGMrK8RwwzeB4hhD40FEOR0CGTQbJTMJGa/s1600/RobertBly.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="113" width="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrkynH2Y_TvjGXKDS8EYU1GKM-OjXQVi8mTkP5ALwB67RhL0C9u400Oq2AzVy7Vl6jV-LnLyNv4dTFW38o1r4KeniJbsVaw6H5xvgdxd8vcwGMrK8RwwzeB4hhD40FEOR0CGTQbJTMJGa/s320/RobertBly.png" /></a></div>I first read <i>Gilgamesh</i> about 20 years ago — not this translation — because it was referred to as an important <i>psychological</i> text by mythologist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Campbell" target="_blank">Joseph Campbell</a> and poet and social critic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Bly" target="_blank">Robert Bly</a>. I confess to having been very disappointed in it at the time. However, my expectations were very high because of the recommendations. And, as it turns out, I lacked <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfkgU-Hb7Je-D_EOA8az5hskXrSg3GIiUoqJJ5j639J0jDb3WWS71bPw1Y3E8GndhgbGAv2lBr1QoOVl-PZojcBjmI9J23kyQvopBtjozR2nk2LIipU3IEA-K7rzVa9yFqEyIk1YIKQ2j/s1600/JosephCampbell.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="128" width="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTfkgU-Hb7Je-D_EOA8az5hskXrSg3GIiUoqJJ5j639J0jDb3WWS71bPw1Y3E8GndhgbGAv2lBr1QoOVl-PZojcBjmI9J23kyQvopBtjozR2nk2LIipU3IEA-K7rzVa9yFqEyIk1YIKQ2j/s320/JosephCampbell.png" /></a></div>the understanding to appreciate the text, because at the time I simply did not get it.<br />
<br />
Well, let that be a lesson. Now, older, I have grown into being able to appreciate the subtlety and psychological sophistication that Campbell and Bly (and others) were alluding to. Amusingly, I seem to be on a binge of seeing in the creative things around me endless manifestations of Zen's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ten_Bulls" target="_blank">The Ten Ox Herding Songs</a>, A.K.A. <i>The Ten Bulls</i><b>*</b>.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAmw7RHETWl5INQQKFjnQCDcSwhB02U-LXr1xrYETOM60Y_J8D25klLLDFXZhO6Rt6pAgU8Od1fgZx2yby6aU1kzFANpxPOxnNAtjtPDk7_asH1Mj8blvAQPVNF0mK2rvk6oecEOsyyMh/s1600/TenBulls-6of10-RidingTheBullHome.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="160" width="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAmw7RHETWl5INQQKFjnQCDcSwhB02U-LXr1xrYETOM60Y_J8D25klLLDFXZhO6Rt6pAgU8Od1fgZx2yby6aU1kzFANpxPOxnNAtjtPDk7_asH1Mj8blvAQPVNF0mK2rvk6oecEOsyyMh/s320/TenBulls-6of10-RidingTheBullHome.png" /></a></div>I am being a little loose here, because Gilgamesh's journey doesn't exactly follow the Songs, but it is metaphorically very close, which is that the path to spiritual enlightenment requires getting one's feet dirty in the mucky waters of the physical universe.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB85x2EGX_lCuNL2NqxBSnpI7JjF-Ogpvz8Cyt7Xgz-GbOgpcyyOIm9g3wvqJQRVo0-_H7rSTYICGWJAm1al2EenrHTubvF5LtIjW8CX6GACB4F1My6GbacqCaNl124Yv_qwe-VvuimYFo/s1600/DevilWearsPrada.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB85x2EGX_lCuNL2NqxBSnpI7JjF-Ogpvz8Cyt7Xgz-GbOgpcyyOIm9g3wvqJQRVo0-_H7rSTYICGWJAm1al2EenrHTubvF5LtIjW8CX6GACB4F1My6GbacqCaNl124Yv_qwe-VvuimYFo/s200/DevilWearsPrada.png" /></a></div>[<b>*</b> For example, I recently explored how the movie <a href="" target="_blank">The Devil Wears Prada</a> is also an example, in a highly westernized disguise, of the <i>Ten Bulls</i>. I have blogged this argument @ <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.ca/2012/08/20120821-devil-wears-prada-ten-bulls.html" target="_blank">2012.08.21 — The Devil Wears Prada: A Ten Bulls Review</a>. And, also, education critic and revisionist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ken_Robinson_(educationalist)" target="_blank">Sir Kenneth Robinson</a> makes a similar allusion in his critique of education and the development or expungement of creativity in his TED talk <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/ken_robinson_says_schools_kill_creativity.html" target="_blank">Schools Kill Creativity</a>.]<br />
<br />
Here is a passage I flagged. I like it because I find it evocative and stimulating, but I am not sure what it means. </span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think compassion is our God's pure act<br />
Which burns forever,<br />
And be it in Heaven or in Hell<br />
Doesn't matter for me; because<br />
Hell is the everlasting gift<br />
Of His presence<br />
to the lonely heart who is longing<br />
Amidst perishing phantoms and doesn't care<br />
To find immortality<br />
If not in the pure loneliness of the Holy One,<br />
This loneliness which He enjoys forever<br />
Inside and outside of His creation.<br />
It is enough for one who loves<br />
To find his Only One singled in Himself.<br />
And this is the cup of immortality! (p74-5.)</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I did not come out [because of my parents' sexual desire] like you,<br />
Said Utnapishtim; I was the choice of others (p75).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And… Well, I hesitate to write this, because it is rather odd. But, here goes. While reading this I experienced a bizarre and sad <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a>. It began with a bizarre cartoon-like industrial accident that killed someone. I heard the story on TV 2012.07.10. Here's the news item as reported in a local paper: </span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Man Crushed To Death by Load of Gravel at LaFarge Canada Site in South Vancouver</b> by Zoe McKnight <i>The Vancouver Sun</i> July 10, 2012.<br />
<br />
VANCOUVER - WorkSafe BC continues to investigate how a man was crushed to death by a load of gravel on a Vancouver job site this morning.<br />
<br />
Spokeswoman Donna Freeman said the man was likely behind the gravel truck when the load elevated and the truck's back gate opened, and the load dumped onto the worker, killing him.<br />
<br />
Provincial inspectors were called to the Lafarge Canada ready-mix cement site on Kent Street just before 9 a.m. Tuesday.<br />
…</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Click <a href="http://www.vancouversun.com/news/crushed+death+load+gravel+LaFarge+Canada+site+south+Vancouver/6911857/story.html" target="_blank">here</a> for the complete story.)<br />
<br />
Well, the following day, 2012.07.11 I continued my perusal of <i>Gilgamesh</i>. And here is what I read:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was a restless night for both [Gilgamesh and Enkidu]. One snatched<br />
At sleep and sprang awake from dreams.<br />
…<br />
[When] Gilgamesh awoke [he] could not hear<br />
His friend in agony; [Enkidu] still was captive to his dreams<br />
Which he would tell aloud to exorcise:<br />
<i><b>I saw us standing in a mountain gorge,<br />
A rockslide fell on us, we seemed no more<br />
Than insects under it. </b></i>And then<br />
A solitary graceful man appeared<br />
And pulled me out from under the mountain.<br />
He gave me water and I felt released.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow you will be victorious,<br />
Enkidu said, to whom the dream brought chills<br />
(For only one of them, he knew would be released)<br />
Which Gilgamesh could not perceive in the darkness<br />
For he went back to sleep without responding<br />
To his friend's interpretation of his dream (36-7).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPZwjsnzvLtCFjcHmx4lTjUZCX-ZPULiwWplCq_9LAswG9uJkvM3IijYKK7Pl07-6PrmPyzfKaOShVQ-jDe0pH55bSdSClAQVs9e9pCuQ_NQUc5ZBrJzlNDmGBcECWmxCOvh0Khb7uAcH/s1600/SirKenRobinson.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="87" width="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPZwjsnzvLtCFjcHmx4lTjUZCX-ZPULiwWplCq_9LAswG9uJkvM3IijYKK7Pl07-6PrmPyzfKaOShVQ-jDe0pH55bSdSClAQVs9e9pCuQ_NQUc5ZBrJzlNDmGBcECWmxCOvh0Khb7uAcH/s320/SirKenRobinson.png" /></a></div>It wasn't until after I was finalizing this blog that I linked Ken Robinson's talk "Schools Kill Creativity" to it. And I had the strangest thought: in <i>Gilgamesh</i>, Gilgamesh's nascent spiritual growth begins when he becomes aware of the real dirty world of the 'animalistic' Enkidu. But it wasn't enough: until Enkidu — Gilgamesh's source of grounded creative energy — was killed Gilgamesh's spiritual journey was incomplete. Very interesting.<br />
<br />
[<b><i>Fushigi</i> addendum: 2012.08.20 9:40pm]</b><br />
Tonight M, from the <a href="www.goodreads.com" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> book-biased social networking site, posted a top ten list of songs he would want in an iPod. It is an interesting list, and one in which I do not have even one of the songs in my 4421 loaded in iTunes or in any of my still un-'iTuned' CDs. So, I went to look to see what were my most played songs in iTunes. Here is what I posted:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's my list of most played songs in iTunes. It isn't quite accurate because it doesn't include all the times I actually play CDs in the car or in the stereo down stairs, but it is statistically representative! (LoL.)<br />
<br />
<small> 1) <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bang_on_a_Can" target="_blank">Bang on a Can</a>'s <a href="http://youtu.be/4g1Ezvfh7po" target="_blank">cover</a> of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brian_Eno" target="_blank">Brian Eno</a>'s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_for_Airports" target="_blank"><i>Music for Airports</i></a>: <a href="http://youtu.be/B9kPIp4MtX0" target="_blank">1/1</a> - (253 plays)<br />
2) Bang on a Can's cover of Brian Eno's <i>Music for Airports</i> 1/2 - (235 plays - not a transposition)<br />
3) <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_Glass" target="_blank">Philip Glass</a> — <a href="http://youtu.be/jRg3agJn1Mg" target="_blank">Serra Pelada</a> from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Powaqqatsi" target="_blank"><i>Powaqqatsi</i></a> - (226 plays)<br />
4) Philip Glass — The Title from <i>Powaqqatsi</i> - (226 plays)<br />
5) Bang on a Can's cover of Brian Eno's <i>Music for Airports</i> 2/1 (215 plays)<br />
6) Philip Glass — Anthem Part 1 from <i>Powaqqatsi</i> - (213 plays)<br />
7) Philip Glass — That Place from <i>Powaqqatsi</i> - (201 plays)<br />
8) Philip Glass — Anthem Part 2 from <i>Powaqqatsi</i> - (201 plays)<br />
9) Bang on a Can's cover of Brian Eno's <i>Music for Airports</i> - (197 plays)<br />
10) Philip Glass — Anthem Part 3 from <i>Powaqqatsi</i> - (189 plays).</small><br />
<br />
My listening practice is to listen to albums. It is a rare thing for me to put music on random by single song, or to even listen to a single song extracted from an album — or to buy anthologies — I allow radio listening to provide that. iTunes and the iPod allow for random play <i>by album</i> which is my default. However, I have a tendency to repeat songs that really catch my ear. For example, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chantal_Kreviazuk" target="_blank">Chantal Keviazuk</a>. I've listened to <a href="http://youtu.be/hnyAeh_w1XA" target="_blank">Surrounded</a> and <a href="http://youtu.be/l4xnnrXdpJ8" target="_blank">Believer</a> 56 times from her album <a href="http://www.last.fm/music/Chantal+Kreviazuk/Under+These+Rocks+and+Stones" "target="_blank"><b><i>Under These Rocks and Stones</i>*</b></a>. But the rest of the songs on the album less than 20 plays. It is very rare for me to <i>not</i> delete one or two songs in an album. Off the top of my head the only example that comes immediately to mind is <a href="http://youtu.be/aCca5mPMp9A" target="_blank">Africa</a> by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toto_(band)" target="_blank">Toto</a>.<br />
<br />
<b>*<i>Fushigi moment</i>. Earlier this evening I finished posting my review of <i>Gilgamesh</i> in my book blog. In it I include a <i>fushigi</i> about an industrial accident here in metro Vancouver that involved a man getting buried under a dump truck load of rocks. In <i>Gilgamesh</i>, Enkidu dreams that he and Gilgamesh get buried under a rock slide, and that Enkidu dies.</b><br />
<br />
Okay, not sure if it counts as a <i>fushigi</i> or near <i>fushigi</i>, but while doing this posting I was playing around with iTunes. Right now, by random chance by album, I am listening to Rush from their album 'Moving Pictures'. The song that is playing is <i><b>Witch Hunt</i></b>.<blockquote>The night is black, without a moon. <br />
The air is thick and still. <br />
The vigilantes gather on <br />
The lonely torchlit hill.</blockquote></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
The reason I included <b><i>Witch Hunt</i></b> is because late last night I posted a response to M's initial reaction and query regarding my Jungian / Zen movie review of <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.ca/2012/08/20120821-devil-wears-prada-ten-bulls.html" target="_blank"><i>The Devil Wears Prada</i></a>. As I mentioned that movie in this blog post, and in my response to M I wrote the following line:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<br />
So why then are woman so enamoured of shoes? Excellent question.<br />
<br />
Yes, shoes do represent a type of animus possession. IMO, anyway. But I am not properly a Jungian, so please take my observation with lots of salt and consider it something to moil up the clouds of understanding<br />
<br />
Your speculation is accurate. But I would like to elaborate the discussion by noting that the Judaeo-Christian societies have been generally brutally dismissive of the feminine. With Christianity this has been despite Christ having, in his time, fully embraced female equality. This was one of the key aspects of very early Christianity that helped make it popular. However once Christianity got going the men took it over and evicted the female presence from its power structure and largely emphasized the female as evil temptress, and/or weak victim. Within the Christian ethos, a compensatory effect of the devaluation of the feminine was the increased elevation of Mary mother of Christ to the point where churches were built in her name. <i><b>Pragmatically, the feminine was burnt if too powerful (Joan of Arc, witches)</b></i>, but when they were 'kept' or stayed in their place they were elevated to untouchable grace and beauty and the object of endless songs and poems of <i>unrealistic</i> projections of the ideal feminine. All this occurred before the serious elevation of the mind over matter theology that Rene Descartes and Newton successfully created and popularized, and whose social philosophy of life became the fundamental truth that 'proper' human beings used to confirm the 'truth' of what was or was not 'real'.<br />
…</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And so it was that I was 'forced' to post that review and the text around it. Bizarre <i>fushigi</i>. Bizarre.<br />
<br />
</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-9451867018860471642012-08-04T23:59:00.000-07:002012-08-12T23:24:11.335-07:002012.08.04 — Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn: Almost Read<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhXm2wOxwYKiayHlhZtferJ15uCFYQEUj_AA6Blo4FXh2abdTkQl10iIiHXv4N0TlHXV1ISZcvkvDZIXLFOruw7lO1ZJnUlhP2LDSAfclP1L-3StHL7BWmfdWzTqq0-fB1nVQS4DW_ReX/s1600/GoneGirl.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhXm2wOxwYKiayHlhZtferJ15uCFYQEUj_AA6Blo4FXh2abdTkQl10iIiHXv4N0TlHXV1ISZcvkvDZIXLFOruw7lO1ZJnUlhP2LDSAfclP1L-3StHL7BWmfdWzTqq0-fB1nVQS4DW_ReX/s320/GoneGirl.png" /></a></div><a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780307588388" target="_blank"><i>Gone Girl: A Novel</i></a><br />
by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gillian_Flynn" target="_blank">Gillian Flynn</a>.<br />
Publisher: Crown (<a href="http://www.randomhouse.ca/" target="_blank">Random House</a>)<br />
ISBN: 978-0-307-58838-8 (0-307-58838-6)<br />
<br />
★★☆☆☆<br />
Almost Read.<br />
<br />
<i>GG</i> was a rare, for me, <i>almost</i>-read book. Rare, not because I didn't really finish it, but rare because I <i>began</i> reading it <i>because</i> of a review.<br />
<br />
Isn't that a curious hypocrisy?! I rarely read books because of a review, and yet here I am writing a review in a blog I have created for the sole purpose of writing book reviews! What does that say about me? I wonder. Perhaps that I am narcissistic? Or maybe, to put a positive spin on this, that I like to learn about who I am by examining my reactions to what I read. And that is something I find I am unable to do with <i>reading</i> book reviews. Maybe it is simply that from personal experience I trust that the universe will bring me the books I 'need' when I need them, and my reading reviews is not a big part of that process. Of course, I just about completely stopped reading reviews when I realized that the 'official' book review process through the media was largely designed to sell books and newsprint. I was becoming aware at that time that <i>motivation</i> in any activity is of crucial importance in creating that indefinable <i>quality</i> in a final product that separates the creative output from being merely adequate or good to being brilliant.<br />
<br />
Yikes! You can tell I was not too impressed by <i>GG</i> as I wax on philosophically and narcissistically about reviews. Okay. Here is my review:<br />
<br />
A few months ago, I seem to vaguely remember, I read a review of <i>GG</i> that caught my interest. I've long since forgotten the review, or even where I read it but I suspect it was from <a href="http://www.powells.com/" target="_blank">Powell's Books'</a> 'Daily Dose.' At that time I reserved the book from the <a href="http://www.nwpl.ca/" target="_blank">NWPL</a>. I received notice of it being my turn to read it just three weeks ago. Because of the <i>long</i> wait I asked the representative at the checkout 'Excuse me, how many people are on hold behind me?' 'Forty-four,' she said. 'I guess my hoping to renew it is pretty much not going to happen, then?' 'Nope.' And the copy I got was obviously unsullied new, so the library has purchased several if not many copies to keep up with demand. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzzDDYHVcywOYF6qxJfq75VRqhy8G61zgaDXHizNcINrYJ4-21keXyG1mcVSt8kuA3Z6LT1whx96HXUdCWUXxAalihGNA4KZ4sFMRSdic30VJ0wDi4azlnNbrfElpewQsbTfQOO8F3XAJ/s1600/GillianFlynn.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="252" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzzDDYHVcywOYF6qxJfq75VRqhy8G61zgaDXHizNcINrYJ4-21keXyG1mcVSt8kuA3Z6LT1whx96HXUdCWUXxAalihGNA4KZ4sFMRSdic30VJ0wDi4azlnNbrfElpewQsbTfQOO8F3XAJ/s320/GillianFlynn.png" /></a></div><br />
And so I was hoping against my experience that a popular book would be, for a change, one also liked by me. But alas, <i>GG</i> has re-confirmed that I am not a part of the mainstream of popular culture's consumption of fiction. (Okay, there are exceptions, such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Ondaatje" target="_blank"> Michael Ondaatje</a>. But then, I imagine he sells less than a tenth of the books of a Stephen King, Jackie Collins, or Len Deighton, so even he is not really mainstream.)<br />
<br />
<i>GG</i> was sharply written, meaning Flynn wrote clear well constructed sentences that painted the scene very well. And the scenery is very pretty. However, it had a kind of cleverness that struck me as being glib. Or maybe it was kind of unnecessarily mean in a way that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Letterman" target="_blank">David Letterman</a>'s humour always strikes me. And like his jokes, Flynn's writing lacked vitality, and I cannot at this time clearly pinpoint why. <br />
<br />
I have been wrestling in my mind with this review for several days. And I keep drifting to the idea that <i>GG</i> lacked depth of human understanding. Flynn was <i>trying</i> to show psychological sophistication, but her writing did not get much deeper into the people than their skin. This may reflect her background as an entertainment magazine writer or, perhaps Flynn having accepted, either consciously or unconsciously, the philosophical belief that the expression of human psychology is delimited by personal experience instead of what a person is able to imagine.<br />
<br />
The next bit will be a bit of a spoiler, so don't read anymore if my <i>negative</i> review is proof enough that <i>GG</i> is indeed a worth while read for you.<br />
<br />
The marriage, under stress from failed expectations and the financial and emotional dynamics of unemployment, is celebrating an anniversary. The wife, as has been customary, sets up a treasure hunt that the husband is to solve clue-by-clue to a great surprise and celebration. That the husband has failed every previous one miserably in the past drives him to spend much of the anniversary with his best friend and business partner — they own a bar — his sister. He gets the dreaded call: OMG, the wife appears to have been kidnapped on their anniversary, but has managed to leave behind the first clue. And, OMG, it looks like the husband did it.<br />
<br />
I just sighed a great big sigh as I wrote that, despite sighing through my initial realization while reading it that this was of course staged, and that the set-up was deliberate to bring a spark back into the marriage. So, here is Flynn's first glib act: that we the readers are supposed to realize that it was staged so that she can twist the denouement.<br />
<br />
As I continued reading I kept hoping that the real twist would be that the kidnapping wasn't staged. But the husband's bland stupidity, despite been painted as a clever writer, left me struggling with ennui and the conviction that Flynn was setting us up for the staging.<br />
<br />
When I came to accept that I would not be finishing <i>GG</i>, I cheated and jumped to the end. I wanted to see how clever Flynn really was. And the so-called double twist I discovered was when I first thought 'Yup, glib and clever, but without anything revivifying.' Yes, it was indeed staged to make the husband look like the killer, but more importantly <i>that</i> staging was just so the wife could stage a murder she would be able to get away with, and which would save their failing marriage.<br />
<br />
And now I have returned it unfinished and disappointed. I had so wanted it to be better than it was. For a summer read, I do not recommend <i>GG</i> but would suggest perhaps Ondaatje's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cat%27s_Table" target="_blank">The Cat's Table</a> which exceeded my expectations when I read it last year: <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.ca/2011/11/20111023-cats-table-by-michael-ondaatje.html" target="_blank">Finished 2011.10.23</a>.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-13671552467766772512012-07-21T00:39:00.000-07:002012-07-21T00:51:07.258-07:002012.07.21 — What Uncle Sam Really Wants by Noam Chomsky: Finished 2012.07.01<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_MtMCJyqRzn1iVAdbuZlo1PueZiufVhrUfrRiuAr4wLumezi7qjhmj7QL-T_ba9bMX7bFDFzhL1EewWspIv6a6nkLTQgmSxBrqjI7cDlFEYI7LXXFML4eH4bzO_e9FTkqAWgNUrc4BcY/s1600/WhatUncleSamReallyWants.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr_MtMCJyqRzn1iVAdbuZlo1PueZiufVhrUfrRiuAr4wLumezi7qjhmj7QL-T_ba9bMX7bFDFzhL1EewWspIv6a6nkLTQgmSxBrqjI7cDlFEYI7LXXFML4eH4bzO_e9FTkqAWgNUrc4BcY/s320/WhatUncleSamReallyWants.png" /></a></div>Noam Chomsky. <br />
<a href="http://www.odonian.com/order.html" target="_blank">What Uncle Sam Really Wants</a>.<br />
Berkley, CA. <a href="http://www.odonian.com/about.html" target="_blank">The Odonion Press</a>, 1995. ISBN1878825011.<br />
<br />
Began 2012.06.23<br />
Finished 2012.07.01<br />
★★★★☆<br />
<br />
This book is Chomsky at his most accessible. The publisher claims, on the back of the book, that "political books don't have to be boring." And this one certainly isn't boring because this publisher's need for brevity has forced Chomsky to the bare bones. His sarcasm and irony are very sharp, and his details far more concise than in his full length works. <br />
<br />
However, I do not actually recommend this book as an <i>introduction</I> to Chomsky's political writing because that brevity allows more easily for incredulity to become dismissive skepticism. What he writes is so far away from the official historical myths that we believe that after the fourth or fifth debunking claim he makes it becomes increasingly easy to become convinced that he is just some left-wing nut-job with a horribly over-active imagination who hates America. Yes, his claims are referenced in the back of the book. But they are not footnoted in the text, and that lapse more easily gives the cynic the mental elbow room to dismiss Chomksy's arguments and claims.<br />
<a name="blogreview"></a><br />
In a curious irony, and an affirmation of Chomsky's frequent observation that concision is America's most effective and widely practiced form of censorship, this book's brevity also makes it very quotable.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Free trade is fine for economics departments and newspaper editorials, but nobody in the corporate world or the government takes the doctrines too seriously. The parts of the US economy that are able to compete internationally are primarily the state subsidized ones: capital intensive agriculture (agribusiness as it is called), high tech industry, pharmaceuticals, biotechnology, etc.<br />
<br />
The same is true of other industrial societies. The US government has the public pay for research and development and provides, largely through the military, a state-guaranteed market for waste production. If something is marketable, the private sector takes it over. That system of public subsidy and private profit is what is called <i>free enterprise</i> (p.13).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now I think the government and corporate leaders have recently entered the next or 4th degree of delusion — they actual have fallen victim to their own propaganda, and truly believe that the massive subsidies these groups get aren't actually subsidies. What the social critic and comic Bill Maher calls "being in the bubble."<br />
<br />
And on Amercia's support for democracy immediately following the second world war: the CIA's first job was to subvert democracy and help ensure the installation of a fascist dictatorship response to America's business needs:</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvMZDoiBFQJfW5tT19E9BZMARR0vkMPtbPgMG95ib740fXETonAfehrp5fPsdp4kAG8rw0q2Bwv9drNtafjeSxnBKKyDG9IwvTZpWmqd9umxD_NfeSWQOhKJ19VafqJFxxbnFM_AMc_3zK/s1600/WinstonChurchill.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="166" width="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvMZDoiBFQJfW5tT19E9BZMARR0vkMPtbPgMG95ib740fXETonAfehrp5fPsdp4kAG8rw0q2Bwv9drNtafjeSxnBKKyDG9IwvTZpWmqd9umxD_NfeSWQOhKJ19VafqJFxxbnFM_AMc_3zK/s320/WinstonChurchill.png" /></a></div><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Restoring the traditional order</b><br />
But far more important was the first area of Europe liberated — southern Italy, where the US, following <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Churchill" target="_blank">Churchill's</a> advice, imposed a right-wing dictatorship headed by Fascist war hero <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pietro_Badoglio" target="_blank">Field Marshall Badoglio</a> and the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Victor_Emmanuel_III" target="_blank">King Victor Emmanuel III</a>, <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJrz8RuxUJ35RNDo0q5IaVXr332xH2Mc3d52MdNC7e1YbU6c5C7lGjc8HqwfoJ5xeqnxpK2C8ivM_DhQ3GeNeyLQpw_wPU0qFKGGUnden-wtSmSMxkE3EwMO28lZM2nwrjLLOf6dlGOJq/s1600/VictorEmmanuelIII.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.11em"><img border="0" height="119" width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJrz8RuxUJ35RNDo0q5IaVXr332xH2Mc3d52MdNC7e1YbU6c5C7lGjc8HqwfoJ5xeqnxpK2C8ivM_DhQ3GeNeyLQpw_wPU0qFKGGUnden-wtSmSMxkE3EwMO28lZM2nwrjLLOf6dlGOJq/s320/VictorEmmanuelIII.png" /></a></div>who was also a Fascist collaborator. <br />
<br />
US planners recognized that the "threat" in Europe was not Soviet aggression (which serious analysts, like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dwight_Eisenhower" target="_blank">Dwight Eisenhower</a>, did not anticipate) but rather the worker- and peasant- based antifascist resistance with its radical democratic ideals, and the political power and appeal of the local Communist parties.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfF8stI9O0ythjeArHjGDMsNfJqqISAOOy2ujp4mVySOMYHMrT3YadMpWqzt5PZgUOqz8cgYqT2lVEhEwZzYrUrEpnxXZ_HmAjE-rNC2rWTjeC1TZIOhwAW1fUxd7yjl04LxK6u81L8og/s1600/DwightEisenhower.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="116" width="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfF8stI9O0ythjeArHjGDMsNfJqqISAOOy2ujp4mVySOMYHMrT3YadMpWqzt5PZgUOqz8cgYqT2lVEhEwZzYrUrEpnxXZ_HmAjE-rNC2rWTjeC1TZIOhwAW1fUxd7yjl04LxK6u81L8og/s320/DwightEisenhower.png" /></a></div><br />
To prevent an economic collapse that would enhance their influence, and to rebuild Western Europe's state-capitalist economies, the US instituted the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marshall_Plan" target="_blank">Marshall Plan</a> (under which Europe was provided with more than $ 12 billion in loans and grants between 1948 and 1951, funds used to purchase a third of US exports to Europe in the peak year of 1949).<br />
<br />
In Italy, a worker- and peasant-based movement, led by the Communist party, had held down six German divisions during the war and liberated northern Italy. As US forces advanced through Italy, they dispersed this antifascist resistance and restored the basic structure of the prewar Fascist regime.<br />
<br />
Italy has been one of the main areas of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cia" target="_blank">CIA</a> subversion ever since the agency was founded. The CIA was concerned about Communists winning power legally in the crucial Italian elections of 1948. A lot of techniques were used, including restoring the Fascist police, breaking the unions and withholding food. But it wasn't clear that the Communist party could be defeated.<br />
<br />
The very first <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States_National_Security_Council" target="_blank">National Security Council</a> memorandum, <a href="http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/nsc-hst/index.html" target="_blank">NSC 1 (1948)</a>, specified a number of actions the US would take if the Communists won these elections. One planned response was armed intervention, by means of military aid for underground operations in Italy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1GsL5dGiwMpCzdfa1XR0GkgG9dLuDYCSnza3_zaQ50llnlqlVtuxaOb8t5azv4wLULA9VIDczOemxow4LPhh7Un7ZrjSPa8kma-iwRSfHeAcqkrnAMV4VdlzkvFEASKnD-Lx57wy2LsA/s1600/GeorgeKennan.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="141" width="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1GsL5dGiwMpCzdfa1XR0GkgG9dLuDYCSnza3_zaQ50llnlqlVtuxaOb8t5azv4wLULA9VIDczOemxow4LPhh7Un7ZrjSPa8kma-iwRSfHeAcqkrnAMV4VdlzkvFEASKnD-Lx57wy2LsA/s320/GeorgeKennan.png" /></a></div>Some people, particularly <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_F._Kennan" target="_blank">George Kennan</a>, advocated military action <i>before</i> the elections — he didn't want to take a chance. But others convinced him we could carry it off by subversion, which turned out to be correct.<br />
<br />
In Greece, British troops entered after the Nazis had withdrawn. They imposed a corrupt regime that evoked renewed resistance, and Britain, in its postwar decline, was unable to maintain control. In 1947, the United States moved in, supporting a murderous war that resulted in about 160,000 deaths.<br />
<br />
This war was complete with torture, political exile for tens of thousands of Greeks, what we called "re-education camps" for tens of thousands of others, and the destruction of unions and of any possibility of independent politics.<br />
<br />
It placed Greece firmly in the hands of US investors and local businessmen, while much of the population had to emigrate in order to survive. The beneficiaries included Nazi collaborators, while the primary victims were the workers and the peasants of the Communist-led, anti-Nazi resistance.<br />
<br />
Our successful defence of Greece against its own population was the model for the Vietnam War — as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adlai_Stevenson_II" target="_blank">Adlai Stevenson</a> explained to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Nations" target="_blank">United Nations</a> in 1964. Reagan's advisors used exactly the same model in talking about Central America, and the pattern was followed many other places (15-17). </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here is another quotable passage:</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Broader studies by economist Edward Herman reveal a close correlation worldwide between torture and US aid, and also provide the explanation: both correlate independently with improving the climate for business operations. In comparison with that guiding moral principle, such matters as torture and butchery pale into insignificance (p.29).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This book is full of these little gems. However they only have realistic descriptive power if you have already read enough of Chomsky to fully understand that the words 'butchery' and 'torture' are not exaggerations when applied to American foreign policy. Rather they are a kind of ironical whitewash of the breadth and scope and scale of American brutality not infrequently approaching genocidal proportions.<br />
<br />
A fun read, but it won't give those people who are familiar with Chomsky anything new — except a source of Chomsky sound bites. And it will likely be seen by people new to Chomsky as confirmation by the skeptical that he is a fruitcake and reduce him to being merely an eloquent conspiratorialist out in the fringes.</span><br />Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-57402023954543423552012-07-01T23:55:00.000-07:002012-07-02T15:07:26.865-07:002012.07.01 — Deterring Democracy by Noam Chomsky: Finished 2012.06.25<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGivEBBn1X4mKnJZ1Mw19OVPbtXOw0W3uHTR4tivXFirvV4RAy_HqVeTJg49yrCI2sdfSFIzMQ3waiyIIv19ezfrBEoYPdmMi2l0Br3_Jt58et1dQVj8IvoSfT2Ju5tYNGYlvEmVZ_7trT/s1600/DeterringDemocracyCover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="320" width="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGivEBBn1X4mKnJZ1Mw19OVPbtXOw0W3uHTR4tivXFirvV4RAy_HqVeTJg49yrCI2sdfSFIzMQ3waiyIIv19ezfrBEoYPdmMi2l0Br3_Jt58et1dQVj8IvoSfT2Ju5tYNGYlvEmVZ_7trT/s320/DeterringDemocracyCover.png" /></a><a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-overview.html" target="_blank"><i>Deterring Democracy</i></a> by<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noam_Chomsky" target="_blank">Noam Chomsky</a>.<br />
New York: <a href="http://www.versobooks.com/pg/about-verso" target="_blank">Verso (New Left Books)</a> 1991 ISBN 086091318X.<br />
(Out of Print: the link to the title above goes to the text of the entire book at <a href="http://www.zcommunications.org/" target="_blank">ZCommunications.org</a>.)<br />
<br />
Begun 2012.05.08.<br />
Finished 2012.06.25<br />
★★★★★<br />
<br />
The end of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cold_war" target="_blank">Cold War</a> was greeted by the free world with a self congratulatory praise that echoed off the moon and back. And for the average person, the prospect for disarmament and some kind of 'real' peace had become a tangible reality. But the end of The Cold War gave to the American military industrial complex an opportunity and a problem. The opportunity was that without the USSR as a viable deterrent to American foreign aggression, America now had the opportunity to invade other countries at will. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjufEz4WAZeQpoFfVzQbS6kvJG-VNnHzXV3JpZMOVEjHnQXvXNVeSHrRCKefU3tNecXjcSmCVW_EHc43gze4w6UXkFBwQXGeovYKzgShfoNp1S1FhuirauMG-WEZxybUUwE30yvu5iFV2HE/s1600/ChomskyDeterDemocFlap002.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:.em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjufEz4WAZeQpoFfVzQbS6kvJG-VNnHzXV3JpZMOVEjHnQXvXNVeSHrRCKefU3tNecXjcSmCVW_EHc43gze4w6UXkFBwQXGeovYKzgShfoNp1S1FhuirauMG-WEZxybUUwE30yvu5iFV2HE/s320/ChomskyDeterDemocFlap002.png" /></a></div><br />
And the problem? The American public, having been fed a steady and successful propaganda about the role of the USSR evil and American benevolence during the Cold War, saw its end as an opportunity to give peace a chance. Thus, in a curious irony, the end of the Cold War threatened to expose to America that they had been misled about that war by their media that had acted in collusion with big business's management of 'their' government. In effect, Americans had been given an opportunity to discover that they had been manipulated by a pervasive and expansive propaganda into giving to their corporate masters their manufactured consent to propagate American hegemony disguised as defending freedom. <br />
<br />
It would have most likely been bad for business if the truth of American hegemony actually made it into prime time news. What could the manufacturers do to avoid such a catastrophe and how were America's hegemons going to be able to take advantage of their new freedom and expand in scale and scope their overt and covert invasions; and continue their practices of disrupting fledgling democracies without a solid enemy to justify the military spending in a time of peace? The answer: follow the same media farce as was practiced during the Cold War by the simple manufacture of 'properly' acceptable enemies with the proper implementation of the media supported propaganda. Thus was born, for example, the war on drugs, the farce of Grenada, Nicaragua, and Panama as serious threats to American sovereignty and safety.<br />
<br />
The media hypocrisy and outright lying around these wars, and the comparison Chomsky makes to Britain forcing China to buy opium, is chilling. He provides numbers to back up his argument, and citations from business leaders and NSC documents that, if they had been spoken by German SS officers in WWII, would have earned them post war convictions for crimes against humanity.<br />
<br />
Speaking of war crimes, it would appear that the USA was one of the biggest war criminals on the planet in the eighties, frequently using their UN veto power to overturn condemnation for their frequent invasions and unprovoked attacks on other countries for the explicit purpose of enriching big American business. News of these votes rarely made it into the news. Or, if they did, it was with complete fabrication as to the vote and what it really meant. Interestingly enough, this kind of behaviour was not new in the media's history of misrepresenting American foreign practices. For example, the non-reporting of the role America played in their support for and re-establishment into positions of capitalist influence many of the pre-war German industrialists that included convicted war criminals. Nor was America's support for pro-Nazi sympathizers in the brutal suppression of democracy in Greece following WWII that resulted in the torture and/or deaths of hundreds of thousands of people and the establishment of a brutal dictatorship (p<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c11-s02.html" target="_blank">335</a>, <a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c11-s04.html" target="_blank">342</a>).<br />
<br />
<i>DD</i> is well written, and Chomsky's anger is tempered with a wry kind of humour at just how deluded and delusional the press is about their role in paving the way for American military brutality and unrelenting violation of the UN and the most basic tenets of respect for the rights of others. As always, the footnoting to the references is extensive.<br />
<br />
For me, the detailed and somewhat organic way Chomsky writes solidifies the connections between the way the American military functions as the arm of Big Business, and Big Business's function as the manager of the controlled understanding of America's 'generous' role as planetary policeman. That perhaps the planet's greatest violator of the basic tenets of human rights and democracy is lauded by its corporate media as <i>the singular</i> champion of those ideals is nothing short of an astonishing proof that delusion knows no bounds. The level of hypocrisy that the media relays or creates with a straight face cannot be described in a review without the reviewer being seen as a complete idiot.<br />
<br />
~~~~~~~<br />
[Interlude: While reading this, there arose a pair of strange synchronicity events I like o call <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.ca/2012/06/20120605-deterring-democracy-by-noam.html" target="_blank">fushgis</a>. Loosely, I understand <i>fushigi</i> as a synchronicity-like thing — click on the link to read my understanding of what it means. To read these 'synchronicity petites', as I have sometimes called them, and some quotations from the book, go to <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.ca/2012/06/20120605-deterring-democracy-by-noam.html" target="_blank">Deterring Democracy & a Pair of <i>fushigis</i></a><br />
End of Interlude.]<br />
~~~~~~~<br />
<a name="blogreview"></a><br />
Now for some citations. Note, that since <i>DD</i> has been published on line and is available for free on <a href="http://www.zcommunications.org/" target="_blank">ZCommunications' Web Page</a>, my citations come from there. They originated as blue sticky notes I stuck in the book as I was reading it, and I've linked the page numbers to their appearance in ZCommunication's publication. Also, the on-line publication has also published the footnotes that you will see numbered in the citations. <br />
<br />
Enjoy, if you can. From: 'Ch2. The Home Front: 2.Political Success:'</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The political and social history of Western democracies records all sorts of efforts to ensure that the formal mechanisms are little more than wheels spinning idly. The goal is to eliminate public meddling in formation of policy. That has been largely achieved in the United States, where there is little in the way of political organizations, functioning unions, media independent of the corporate oligopoly, or other popular structures that might offer people means to gain information, clarify and develop their ideas, put them forth in the political arena, and work to realize them. As long as each individual is facing the TV tube alone, formal freedom poses no threat to privilege (p<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c02-s04.html" target="_blank">76</a>).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">From: 'Ch2. The Home Front: 3. The Achievements of Economic Management:'</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Reagan era largely extended the political program of a broad elite consensus. There was a general commitment in the 1970s to restore corporate profitability and to impose some discipline on an increasingly turbulent world. In the U.S. variety of state capitalism, that means recourse to military Keynesian devices at home, now adapted to the decline in U.S. power and therefore with a right-wing rather than liberal slant, the "great society" programs being incompatible with the prior claims of the important people. Abroad, the counterpart is large-scale subversion and international terrorism (whatever term is chosen to disguise the reality). The natural domestic policies were transfer of resources to the rich, partial dismantling of the limited welfare system, an attack on unions and real wages, and expansion of the public subsidy for high technology industry through the Pentagon system, which has long been the engine for economic growth and preserving the technological edge (p<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c02-s06.html" target="_blank">81</a>).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">From: 'Ch3. The Global System: 6. The Soviet Threat:'</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We need not suppose that the appeal to alleged security threats is mere deceit. The authors of NSC 68 may have believed their hysterical flights of rhetoric, though some understood that the picture they were painting was "clearer than truth." In a study of attitudes of policy makers, Lars Schoultz concludes that they were sincere in their beliefs, however outlandish: for example, that Grenada -- with its population of 100,000 and influence over the world nutmeg trade -- posed such a threat to the United States that "an invasion was essential to U.S. security."22 The same may be true of those who, recalling our failure to stop Hitler in time, warned that we must not make the same mistake with Daniel Ortega, poised for world conquest. And Lyndon Johnson may have been sincere in his lament that without overwhelming force at its command, the United States would be "easy prey to any yellow dwarf with a pocket knife," defenseless against the billions of people of the world who "would sweep over the United States and take what we have." Eisenhower and Dulles may have believed that the "self-defense and self-preservation" of the United States were at stake in the face of the terrible threat posed by Guatemala in 1954 -- though it is interesting that in the secret planning record the only example cited to justify their desperate anxiety is "a strike situation" in Honduras that might "have had inspiration and support from the Guatemalan side of the Honduran border."23 The same may even be true of those who instituted and maintained a national emergency from 1985 to defend us from the "unusual and extraordinary threat" to our national security posed by Nicaragua under the Sandinistas.<br />
<br />
In such cases, we need not conclude that we are sampling the productions of psychotics; that is most unlikely, if only because these delusional systems have an oddly systematic character and are highly functional, satisfying the requirements stipulated in the secret documentary record. Nor need we assume conscious deceit. Rather, it is only necessary to recall the ease with which people can come to believe whatever is convenient to believe, however ludicrous it may be, and the filtering process that excludes those lacking these talents from positions of state and cultural management.<br />
<br />
In passing, we may note that while such matters may be of interest to those entranced by the personalities of leaders, for people concerned to understand the world, and perhaps to change it, they are of marginal concern at best, on a par with the importance for economists of the private fantasies of the CEO while he (or rarely she) acts to maximize profits and market share. Preoccupation with these matters of tenth-order significance is one of the many devices that serve to divert attention from the structural and institutional roots of policy, and thus to contribute to deterring the threat of democracy, which might be aroused by popular understanding of how the world works (p<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c03-s05.html" target="_blank">100-1</a>).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">From: 'Ch4. Problems of Population Control: 4. The Narcotraffickers:'</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Social policies implemented in Washington contribute to the toll of victims in other ways, a fact illustrated dramatically just as the vast media campaign orchestrated by the White House peaked in September 1989. On September 19, the U.S. Trade Representative (USTR) panel held a hearing in Washington to consider a tobacco industry request that the U.S. impose sanctions on Thailand if it does not agree to drop restrictions on import of U.S. tobacco. Such U.S. government actions had already rammed tobacco down the throats of consumers in Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan, with human costs of the kind already sketched.<br />
<br />
This huge narcotrafficking operation had its critics. A statement of the American Heart Association, American Cancer Society and American Lung Association condemned the cigarette advertising in "countries that have already succumbed to the USTR crowbar of trade threats," a campaign "patently designed to increase smoking by...young Asian men and women who see young U.S. men and women as role models." U.S. Surgeon General Everett Koop testified at the USTR panel that "when we are pleading with foreign governments to stop the flow of cocaine, it is the height of hypocrisy for the United States to export tobacco." Denouncing the trade policy "to push addicting substances into foreign markets" regardless of health hazards, he said that "Years from now, our nation will look back on this application of free trade policy and find it scandalous." Koop told reporters that he had not cleared his testimony with the White House because it would not have been approved, and said he also opposed actions under the Reagan administration to force Asian countries to import U.S. tobacco. During his eight years in office, ending a few days after his testimony, Koop backed reports branding tobacco a lethal addictive drug responsible for some 300,000 deaths a year.<br />
<br />
Thai witnesses also protested, predicting that the consequence would be to reverse a decline in smoking achieved by a 15-year campaign against tobacco use. They also noted that U.S. drug trafficking would interfere with Washington's efforts to induce Asian governments to halt the flow of illegal drugs. Responding to the claim of U.S. tobacco companies that their product is the best in the world, a Thai witness said, "Certainly in the Golden Triangle we have some of the best products, but we never ask the principle of free trade to govern such products. In fact we suppressed [them]."<br />
<br />
Critics invoked the analogy of the Opium War 150 years ago, when the British government compelled China to open its doors to opium from British India, sanctimoniously pleading the virtues of free trade as they forcefully imposed large-scale drug addiction on China. As in the case of the U.S. today, Britain had little that it could sell to China, apart from drugs. The U.S. sought for itself whatever privileges the British were extracting from China by violence, also extolling free trade and even the "great design of Providence to make the wickedness of men subserve his purposes of mercy toward China, in breaking through her wall of exclusion, and bringing the empire into more immediate contact with western and christian nations" (American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions). John Quincy Adams denounced the refusal of China to accept British opium as a violation of the Christian principle of "love thy neighbor" and "an enormous outrage upon the rights of human nature, and upon the first principles of the rights of nations." The tobacco industry and its protectors in government invoke similar arguments today as they seek to relive this triumph of Western civilization and its "historic purpose."32<br />
<br />
Here we have the biggest drug story of the day, breaking right at the peak moment of the government-media campaign: the U.S. government is perhaps the world's leading drug peddler, even if we put aside the U.S. role in establishing the hard drug racket after World War II and maintaining it since. How did this major story fare in the media blitz? It passed virtually unnoticed -- and, needless to say, without a hint of the obvious conclusion.33<br />
<br />
The drug traffic is no trivial matter for the U.S. economy. Tobacco exports doubled in annual value in the 1980s, contributing nearly $25 billion to the U.S. trade ledger over the decade according to a report of the Tobacco Merchants Association, rising from $2.5 billion in 1980 to $5 billion in 1989. Tobacco provided a $4.2 billion contribution to the trade balance for 1989, when the deficit for the year was $109 billion. Senator Mitch McConnell of Kentucky took due note of these figures while testifying in support of the tobacco companies at a Senate hearing. The president of the American Farm Bureau Federation, commenting on the benefits to the U.S. economy from tobacco exports, "cited the removal of overseas trade barriers, primarily in Japan, Taiwan and South Korea" as a contributory factor (p<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c04-s06.html" target="_blank">123-125</a>).34<br />
<br />
We see that it is unfair to blame the huge trade deficit on the policies of the Reagan-Bush administrations without giving them credit for their efforts to overcome it by state intervention to increase the sale of lethal addictive drugs.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is endless. The numbers you have noticed in the text are to footnotes. If you go to the linked page numbers, you will find the footnotes supplied at ZCommunications' transcription of <i>DD</i>.<br />
<br />
I'll close with Chomsky at his most eloquent. He closes <i>DD</i> with a short history of so-called 'Freedom of Speech' in the USA. It is not what you have likely come to believe because the rhetoric you hear about it is a complete fabrication by the media and proper intellectual journals. </span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those who adopt the common sense principle that freedom is our natural right and essential need will agree with Bertrand Russell that anarchism is "the ultimate ideal to which society should approximate." Structures of hierarchy and domination are fundamentally illegitimate. They can be defended only on grounds of contingent need, an argument that rarely stands up to analysis. As Russell went on to observe 70 years ago, "the old bonds of authority" have little intrinsic merit. Reasons are needed for people to abandon their rights, "and the reasons offered are counterfeit reasons, convincing only to those who have a selfish interest in being convinced." "The condition of revolt," he went on, "exists in women towards men, in oppressed nations towards their oppressors, and above all in labour towards capital. It is a state full of danger, as all past history shows, yet also full of hope."86<br />
<br />
Russell traced the habit of submission in part to coercive educational practices. His views are reminiscent of 17th and 18th century thinkers who held that the mind is not to be filled with knowledge "from without, like a vessel," but "to be kindled and awaked." "The growth of knowledge [resembles] the growth of Fruit; however external causes may in some degree cooperate, it is the internal vigour, and virtue of the tree, that must ripen the juices to their just maturity." Similar conceptions underlie Enlightenment thought on political and intellectual freedom, and on alienated labor, which turns the worker into an instrument for other ends instead of a human being fulfilling inner needs -- a fundamental principle of classical liberal thought, though long forgotten, because of its revolutionary implications. These ideas and values retain their power and their pertinence, though they are very remote from realization, anywhere. As long as this is so, the libertarian revolutions of the 18th century remain far from consummated, a vision for the future.87<br />
<br />
One might take this natural belief to be confirmed by the fact that despite all efforts to contain them, the rabble continue to fight for their fundamental human rights. And over time, some libertarian ideals have been partially realized or have even become common coin. Many of the outrageous ideas of the 17th century radical democrats, for example, seem tame enough today, though other early insights remain beyond our current moral and intellectual reach.<br />
<br />
The struggle for freedom of speech is an interesting case, and a crucial one, since it lies at the heart of a whole array of freedoms and rights. A central question of the modern era is when, if ever, the state may act to interdict the content of communications. As noted earlier, even those regarded as leading libertarians have adopted restrictive and qualified views on this matter.88 One critical element is seditious libel, the idea that the state can be criminally assaulted by speech, "the hallmark of closed societies throughout the world," legal historian Harry Kalven observes. A society that tolerates laws against seditious libel is not free, whatever its other virtues. In late 17th century England, men were castrated, disemboweled, quartered and beheaded for the crime. Through the 18th century, there was a general consensus that established authority could be maintained only by silencing subversive discussion, and "any threat, whether real or imagined, to the good reputation of the government" must be barred by force (Leonard Levy). "Private men are not judges of their superiors... [for] This wou'd confound all government," one editor wrote. Truth was no defense: true charges are even more criminal than false ones, because they tend even more to bring authority into disrepute.89<br />
<br />
Treatment of dissident opinion, incidentally, follows a similar model in our more libertarian era. False and ridiculous charges are no real problem; it is the unconscionable critics who reveal unwanted truths from whom society must be protected.<br />
<br />
The doctrine of seditious libel was also upheld in the American colonies. The intolerance of dissent during the revolutionary period is notorious. The leading American libertarian, Thomas Jefferson, agreed that punishment was proper for "a traitor in thought, but not in deed," and authorized internment of political suspects. He and the other Founders agreed that "traitorous or disrespectful words" against the authority of the national state or any of its component states was criminal. "During the Revolution," Leonard Levy observes, "Jefferson, like Washington, the Adamses, and Paine, believed that there could be no toleration for serious differences of political opinion on the issue of independence, no acceptable alternative to complete submission to the patriot cause. Everywhere there was unlimited liberty to praise it, none to criticize it." At the outset of the Revolution, the Continental Congress urged the states to enact legislation to prevent the people from being "deceived and drawn into erroneous opinion." It was not until the Jeffersonians were themselves subjected to repressive measures in the late 1790s that they developed a body of more libertarian thought for self-protection -- reversing course, however, when they gained power themselves.90<br />
<br />
Until World War I, there was only a slender basis for freedom of speech in the United States, and it was not until 1964 that the law of seditious libel was struck down by the Supreme Court. In 1969, the Court finally protected speech apart from "incitement to imminent lawless action." Two centuries after the revolution, the Court at last adopted the position that had been advocated in 1776 by Jeremy Bentham, who argued that a free goverment must permit "malcontents" to "communicate their sentiments, concert their plans, and practice every mode of opposition short of actual revolt, before the executive power can be legally justified in disturbing them." The 1969 Supreme Court decision formulated a libertarian standard which, I believe, is unique in the world. In Canada, for example, people are still imprisoned for promulgating "false news," recognized as a crime in 1275 to protect the King.91<br />
<br />
In Europe, the situation is still more primitive. France is a striking case, because of the dramatic contrast between the self-congratulatory rhetoric and repressive practice so common as to pass unnoticed. England has only limited protection for freedom of speech, and even tolerates such a disgrace as a law of blasphemy. The reaction to the Salman Rushdie affair, most dramatically on the part of self-styled "conservatives," was particularly noteworthy. Rushdie was charged with seditious libel and blasphemy in the courts, but the High Court ruled that the law of blasphemy extended only to Christianity, not Islam, and that only verbal attack "against Her Majesty or Her Majesty's Government or some other institution of the state" counts as seditious libel. Thus the Court upheld a fundamental doctrine of the Ayatollah Khomeini, Stalin, Goebbels, and other opponents of freedom, while recognizing that English law protects only domestic power from criticism. Doubtless many would agree with Conor Cruise O'Brien, who, when Minister for Posts and Telegraphs in Ireland, amended the Broadcasting Authority Act to permit the Authority to refuse to broadcast any matter that, in the judgment of the minister, "would tend to undermine the authority of the state."92<br />
<br />
We should also bear in mind that the right to freedom of speech in the United States was not established by the First Amendment to the Constitution, but only through dedicated efforts over a long period by the labor movement, the civil rights and anti-war movements of the 1960s, and other popular forces. James Madison pointed out that a "parchment barrier" will never suffice to prevent tyranny. Rights are not established by words, but won and sustained by struggle.<br />
<br />
It is also worth recalling that victories for freedom of speech are often won in defense of the most depraved and horrendous views. The 1969 Supreme Court decision was in defense of the Ku Klux Klan from prosecution after a meeting with hooded figures, guns, and a burning cross, calling for "burying the nigger" and "sending the Jews back to Israel." With regard to freedom of expression there are basically two positions: you defend it vigorously for views you hate, or you reject it in favor of Stalinist/Fascist standards.93<br />
<br />
Whether the instinct for freedom is real or not, we do not know. If it is, history teaches that it can be dulled, but has yet to be killed. The courage and dedication of people struggling for freedom, their willingness to confront extreme state terror and violence, is often remarkable. There has been a slow growth of consciousness over many years and goals have been achieved that were considered utopian or scarcely contemplated in earlier eras. An inveterate optimist can point to this record and express the hope that with a new decade, and soon a new century, humanity may be able to overcome some of its social maladies; others might draw a different lesson from recent history. It is hard to see rational grounds for affirming one or the other perspective. As in the case of many of the natural beliefs that guide our lives, we can do no better than to choose according to our intuition and hopes.<br />
<br />
The consequences of such a choice are not obscure. By denying the instinct for freedom, we will only prove that humans are a lethal mutation, an evolutionary dead end; by nurturing it, if it is real, we may find ways to deal with dreadful human tragedies and problems that are awesome in scale (p<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-c12-s19.html" target="_blank">397-401</a>).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-32830948172946268802012-06-29T15:09:00.000-07:002012-06-30T14:08:23.179-07:002012.06.29 — Tao te Ching Translated by Stephen Mitchell<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdKwtr_NF6Yv9vyfOoVnoX5Nsewa4Anxrhh7EhaZq5qY1pIfUdv_OessBLhQYpVdBiSgzFN6HKC3ZpFhn2Dph2Bem5_-n-j7LJcXeP5y1eW5mSQJlGE_YRt7WEoqNA3X27JHBaZhNEdzS/s1600/TaoTeChing001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdKwtr_NF6Yv9vyfOoVnoX5Nsewa4Anxrhh7EhaZq5qY1pIfUdv_OessBLhQYpVdBiSgzFN6HKC3ZpFhn2Dph2Bem5_-n-j7LJcXeP5y1eW5mSQJlGE_YRt7WEoqNA3X27JHBaZhNEdzS/s320/TaoTeChing001.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laozi" target="_blank">Lao-Tzu</a>.<br />
translated by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stephen_Mitchell_(translator)" target="_blank">Stephen MItchell</a>.<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tao_Te_Ching" target="_blank">Tao te Ching: the Book of the Way</a>.<br />
London: Kyle Cathie Ltd, 1996. ISBN 1856262340.<br />
<br />
Began 2012.05.23.<br />
Finished 2012.06.08<br />
★★★★★<br />
<br />
I stumbled into this translation of the <i>Tao te Ching</i> more or less by accident. It turned out to be a far better read than I thought it would be. I would put it third in rank with the other translations of the <i>Tao te Ching</i> I've read.<br />
<br />
I liked that this book is without any kind of embellishment, in a simple classic font, one chapter per page. Mitchell's commentary is brief and in general interesting and contributes to the enjoyment of the read. He has put his comments in an appendix without footnotes.<br />
<br />
Oddly enough, the thing that stood out to me in this translation above all else was the economic commentary. I plan to check the other translations I have to see if Mitchell's emphasis in his translation is why that stands out. Or did it stand out because I am once more preparing to teach another course of <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/economicsdemystified/home" target="_blank">Debunking Economics</a> that is scheduled for this fall? Psychology and synchronicity are sometimes hard to distinguish.<br />
<a name="fromreview"></a><br />
Anyway, here is what I mean:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Chapter 19</b><br />
Throw away holiness and wisdom,<br />
and people will be a hundred times happier.<br />
Throw away morality and justice,<br />
and people will do the right thing.<br />
Throw away industry and profit,<br />
and there won't be any thieves.<br />
<br />
If these three aren't enough<br />
just stay at the centre of the circle<br />
and let all things take their course. </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Chapter 53</b><br />
The great Way is easy,<br />
yet people prefer the side paths.<br />
Be aware when things are out of balance.<br />
Stay centred with the Tao.<br />
<br />
When rich speculators prosper<br />
while farmers lose their land;<br />
when government officials spend money<br />
on weapons instead of cures;<br />
when the upper class is extravagant and irresponsible<br />
while the poor have nowhere to turn —<br />
all this is robbery and chaos.<br />
It is not in keeping with the Tao.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Chapter 57</b><br />
If you want to be a great leader,<br />
you must learn to follow the Tao.<br />
Stop trying to control.<br />
Let go of fixed plans and concepts,<br />
and the world will govern itself.<br />
<br />
The more prohibitions you have,<br />
the less virtuous people will be.<br />
The more weapons you have,<br />
the less secure people will be.<br />
The more subsidies you have,<br />
the less self-reliant people will be.<br />
<br />
Therefore the Master says:<br />
I let go of the law,<br />
and people become honest.<br />
I let go of economics,<br />
and people become prosperous.<br />
I let go of religion,<br />
and people become serene.<br />
I let go of all desire for the common good,<br />
and the good becomes [as] common as grass.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
And once again, I see re-confirmed that nothing is new in the human social structures. Lao Tzu could be writing about what is happening right now in North America.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-41576703220307744812012-06-17T09:50:00.000-07:002012-06-17T09:52:47.592-07:002012.06.17 — Chomsky for Beginners by John Maher & Judy Groves: finished 2012.06.14 & Fushigis*<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtmjAXLJqhtR13xIeRbPJEEu7MLiNhm-jTuWQ1wqk6g-E-BcjzlDwHyEwwvPZ97g93kUdTr3K7yoFn_FtIMwEuTIXWNLIuocJ-DPpVV0R8DrDr3R5JA7cJg0U7gfegn6mMwzy8zbpPDE9g/s1600/ChomskyForBeginners001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="240" width="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtmjAXLJqhtR13xIeRbPJEEu7MLiNhm-jTuWQ1wqk6g-E-BcjzlDwHyEwwvPZ97g93kUdTr3K7yoFn_FtIMwEuTIXWNLIuocJ-DPpVV0R8DrDr3R5JA7cJg0U7gfegn6mMwzy8zbpPDE9g/s320/ChomskyForBeginners001.jpg" /></a>John Maher and Judy Groves (Illustrator).<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Chomsky-Beginners-John-Groves-Maher/dp/1874166420/ref=cm_cr_pr_product_top" target="_blank">Chomsky for Beginners</a> (but published as <i>Introducing Chomsky</i> in the USA).<br />
Cambridge (UK): <a href="http://www.iconbooks.co.uk/" target="_blank">Icon Books</a>, 1996. [Out of Print.]<br />
ISBN 1874166420. [NOTE: The USA cover for this ISBN is different.]<br />
★★★★★<br />
Began 2012.05.27.<br />
Finished 2012.06.14<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This book review also contains a pair of <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi:</i></a>, which I've linked.<br />
1.<b><a href="#Blood pressure"> Blood pressure <i>Fushigi</i></a><br />
2. <a href="#Crows">Crow <i>Fushigi</i></a></b>.<br />
<br />
<b>First, the review</b><br />
I purchased <i>Chomsky for Beginners</i> without much expectation, but as a Chomsky book to put into my library. I was very pleasantly surprised by the quality of the exposition and thought that went into putting this excellent synopsis of Chomsky's ideas in linguists and their role in utterly transforming our understanding of human language. Even more than that, Maher and Chomsky include a range of contrary opinions and subsequent arguments that, although very concise, clearly illuminate the issues, thinking and controversies.<br />
<br />
The basic evisceration of the behaviourist model of language acquisition was well articulated throughout. But I like how he approached Skinner.</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The Refutation of Behaviourism</b><br />
In 1959, Chomsky composed a basic refutation of behaviourist psychology in this review of B.F. Skinner's <b>Verbal Behaviour</b>. According to Chomsky, children are not born <i>tabula rasa</i>. On the contrary, each child is genetically predisposed to structure how knowledge is acquired.<br />
<br />
"The phrase 'X is reinforced by Y' is being used as a cover term for X wants Y, X likes Y, X wishes Y were the case, etc. Invoking the term 'reinforcement' has no explanatory force, and any idea that this paraphrase introduces any new clarity or objectivity into the description of wishing, liking, etc., is a serious delusion."<br />
<br />
Skinner's account rejects all postulations of inner states and sees human behaviour as entirely a function of antecedent events. For Chomsky, this reduction of human behaviour to 'conditioned responses' contradicts the actual [and demonstrated] complexity and freedom of consciousness (43).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I find the few quotations supplied to be on point and interesting. As a reader of fiction, even of so-called 'literature' I was bemused to read:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps literature will forever give far deeper insight into 'the full human person' than any model of scientific inquiry can hope to do (9).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The bulk (2/3) of the book covers linguistics. The balance of the book is Chomsky's political and media criticism. This was of less interest to me, that being where the bulk of my Chomsky reading has been. However with that exposure comes my ability to assess how well that section is put together. But more than that, the precise and clearly articulated criticisms of the media and socio-political thought in general was hugely informative and entertaining to read. For example, the contrast that Chomsky draws between 'enlightenment values' and how far our science and social perspicuity have fallen from them is delightful. For example:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The American Paradox</b><br />
The United States proudly calls itself 'the leader of the Free World'. We know the US as a free and open society, more so in many ways than societies of Western Europe. And yet, Chomsky has criticized the US as blind to what it really is…<br />
<b>1.</b> One of the most depoliticized nations in the industrial world<br />
<b>2.</b> One of the most deeply indoctrinated societies in the industrial world<br />
<b>3.</b> One of the most conformist intelligentsias in the industrial world. <br />
<br />
Q: IS THIS NOT A PARADOX?<br />
A: It only looks that way.<br />
<br />
The freer the society the more well-honed and sophisticated its system of thought control and the indoctrination. The ruling élite, clever, class-conscious, ever sure of domination, make sure of that (138-9).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is clear from the very first page that, unlike the one or two 'Dummy' books I've tried, the writers of <i>Chomsky for Beginners,</i> John Maher and Noam Chomsky, demonstrate deep respect for the readers' intelligence and ability to understand complex ideas. This at no time feels dumbed down. This book has been described as a good introduction to Chomsky's ideas, and it is. But far, far more importantly, this is a book that introduces one to the challenge of really <i>thinking</i>, even those who are, like me, familiar with Chomsky. And I loved that.<br />
<br />
Now, everything up to this point would have earned from me four stars. So why five? Because for the first time I read someone else make the connection between C.G. Jung and Chomsky's ideas of language and language acquisition. I was so excited to see this! (For my connection, see my review of <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.ca/2012/03/20120313-noam-chomsky-philosophic.html" target="_blank">Noam Chomsky: A Philosophic Review by Justin Leiber</a>.) From <i>Beginners</i> Maher does not elaborate on the connection beyond a citation on the Collective Unconscious which he implies has a correspondence to Chomsky's concepts of <i>Deep Structure</i> and <i>Universal Grammar</i>.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"One part of our biological make up is specifically dedicated to language. That is called our <b>language faculty. UG</b> is the <b>initial state</b> of that language faculty" (77).<br />
…<br />
Universal Grammar is that part of cognitive psychology (ultimately human biology) which seeks to determine the invariant principles of the language faculty and to determine as well the range of variation that those principles allow — that is, the possible human languages(78).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now compare with Jung's idea of the collective unconscious and archetypes:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The human psyche is composed of innate forms always present, giving direction and form to their actualization in images and action. The <b>collective unconscious</b> is universal: it is shared by everyone. "The autonomic contents of the unconscious or 'dominants' … are not inherited ideas but inherited possibilities, necessities even, of bringing to birth the ideas by which these dominants have been expressed, every region has its forms of speech, which can vary infinitely" (80-1).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Okay, enough book review. <br />
<br />
1. <b><a name="Blood pressure">Blood pressure <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a></b></a><br />
<br />
I took my wife to an appointment with a dietician to talk diet as it relates to her recent onset of diabetes. This was her first time there, and there was an instantaneous clash of personalities. I won't go into the minutiae. However, the nature of the visit may perhaps be epitomized by when she had her <b>blood pressure</b>. For the first time in her life, despite having had her pressure measured many times because of fifteen years of serious health issues, it was taken with an automatic machine. Well, she has a relatively contentious relationship with mechanical devices, and when the pressure on her arm became far more intense than she was familiar with from the manual systems, she freaked. Pure panic. When I picked her up 45 minutes later she was still clammy and sweating from the panic. She commented that her arm still hurt and, to her great annoyance read over 160. In fifteen years of repeated tests under various circumstances, it has never been over 130, and normally sits between 120 to 125 to the surprise of every doctor who always expect it to be high.<br />
<br />
So, later that day, when I return to reading <i>Chomsky for Beginners</i>, I read:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_grammar" target="_blank">Universal Grammar</a> is not a grammar. Neither is it a theory of knowledge. It is a theory about the internal structure of the human mind.<br />
<br />
Principles, therefore, are universal to all languages. The specific values for parameters are a fixed property of language which vary within very specific limits from one language to another.<br />
<br />
For example, age, gender, and renal function are parameter values (<i>para</i> = in addition to) that determine blood pressure in the human body.<br />
<br />
<b>If renal function is damaged by an illness like diabetes, then the blood pressure goes up. Therefore the study of dietary salt intake by itself will not provide an accurate and complete picture of operating renal function.</b><br />
<br />
In a tightly integrated theory with a fairly rich internal structure, change in a single parameter may have complex effects, with proliferating consequences in various parts of the grammar (Chomsky102).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And the graphic to accompany it seems right on point, too.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WAUywt01bSq7eNMBMgXO_1OuYELJd_ducakx0Wp5fLSrsLXhp2RlfGaWS9RdE7j_QpRS3XqTXPkgKre0aMtisO6NhCUUPiPy_CBD3-B7mjhTJ3zmjqqWuueURdW08Rqgg-DF7wJJDDPh/s1600/ChomskyForBeginners102+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0WAUywt01bSq7eNMBMgXO_1OuYELJd_ducakx0Wp5fLSrsLXhp2RlfGaWS9RdE7j_QpRS3XqTXPkgKre0aMtisO6NhCUUPiPy_CBD3-B7mjhTJ3zmjqqWuueURdW08Rqgg-DF7wJJDDPh/s400/ChomskyForBeginners102+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
2. <b><a name="Crows">Crow <i>Fushigi</i></a></b><br />
<br />
Well a second <i>fushigi</i> happened on the 14th, too. And indirectly it is related to my wife's visit with the dietician, so I'll include it here, even though it is not directly related to <i>Chomsky for Beginners</i> except though the dimension (or element) of time.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVKQaLwH1bJs5_oiv-ftxMlyWmbNcUDFozC5m5btOfMrj3KvOrTivgYzB1zYdREXRbRNa0HWtY6BZWvTaFmZXUI4_PUO9HznG9QFUJuyJ9zRp8b34CfqISoxUwwBuvSIC8tYeSTek5iAi/s1600/CrowsInTree.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVKQaLwH1bJs5_oiv-ftxMlyWmbNcUDFozC5m5btOfMrj3KvOrTivgYzB1zYdREXRbRNa0HWtY6BZWvTaFmZXUI4_PUO9HznG9QFUJuyJ9zRp8b34CfqISoxUwwBuvSIC8tYeSTek5iAi/s320/CrowsInTree.png" width="269" /></a> It began in the morning while waiting for it to be time to leave for the appointment. We have been observing a pair of crows who have nested nearby. Oddly enough, for the first time in my life I was actually dive bombed by the one the crows the previous weekend. Anyway, my wife asked when crows fledged. I said I didn't know, but that it must be soon.<br />
<br />
When I dropped my wife off at the dietician's office, I went and did some banking. After that I had a nice open block of time and then went for a good walk to Queen's Park along 5th Avenue before going to pick her up. On the way back from the park I heard unusual sounding crow squawks. When I looked over to where the noise came from, I saw three crows standing at the edge of the roof of a house. One was in the eave, the other two on the roof. The one that was making the unusual noise was being fed by the other ones: it's beak was wide open and squawked it's demand for food, and the others were feeding it.<br />
<br />
'Ah,' I thought, 'it would seem that the crows have fledged.' L.'s question has ben answered.</span><br />Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-66245301577245529282012-06-07T23:10:00.001-07:002012-06-15T21:34:52.100-07:002012.06.05 — Deterring Democracy by Noam Chomsky & Fushigis* Rev 12.06.09<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGivEBBn1X4mKnJZ1Mw19OVPbtXOw0W3uHTR4tivXFirvV4RAy_HqVeTJg49yrCI2sdfSFIzMQ3waiyIIv19ezfrBEoYPdmMi2l0Br3_Jt58et1dQVj8IvoSfT2Ju5tYNGYlvEmVZ_7trT/s1600/DeterringDemocracyCover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="240" width="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGivEBBn1X4mKnJZ1Mw19OVPbtXOw0W3uHTR4tivXFirvV4RAy_HqVeTJg49yrCI2sdfSFIzMQ3waiyIIv19ezfrBEoYPdmMi2l0Br3_Jt58et1dQVj8IvoSfT2Ju5tYNGYlvEmVZ_7trT/s320/DeterringDemocracyCover.png" /></a>Well, despite my lack of verbiage, here — or maybe my lack is because of it! — I have been reading. And even finishing books. And in case this has got you excited to read a full fledged book review, your premature elation was, well, premature. This is one of my <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>*fushigi</i></a> book blog things.<br />
<br />
It began, this morning with my continuing to zip through<br />
<br />
<a href="http://books.zcommunications.org/chomsky/dd/dd-overview.html" target="_blank"><i>Deterring Democracy</i></a> <br />
<br />
by<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noam_Chomsky" target="_blank">Noam Chomsky</a>.<br />
New York: <a href="http://www.versobooks.com/pg/about-verso" target="_blank">Verso (New Left Books)</a> 1991 ISBN 086091318X.<br />
(Out of Print: the link to the title above goes to the text of the entire book at <a href="http://www.zcommunications.org/" target="_blank">ZCommunications.org</a>.) <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbPaT6_PljvbRh2-DjeiLNoRvGXvEEMf3kbRTTUuLCWaCI3VHkCEVQU3tCWpKaUF-I44WgpGJ3NP888UxofcLPjplugsKmqNv60HyCwymHEOVP8JxVpQ6yaE6UboqG2wVu7mqFxkky3HJ/s1600/NoamChomsky4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="194" width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbPaT6_PljvbRh2-DjeiLNoRvGXvEEMf3kbRTTUuLCWaCI3VHkCEVQU3tCWpKaUF-I44WgpGJ3NP888UxofcLPjplugsKmqNv60HyCwymHEOVP8JxVpQ6yaE6UboqG2wVu7mqFxkky3HJ/s320/NoamChomsky4.png" /></a><br />
<br />
This is filled with documented examples of the media's general misrepresentation of America's active role in destabilizing the world, rejecting peace, and subjecting 'client' states to terror, torture and death to ensure compliancy for the survivors to live in extreme poverty so as to benefit American corporate hegemony. Today's <i>fushigi</i> began with a particular gruesome read: that in some Latin American countries the extreme poverty has been effective in creating new 'free' markets. Specifically, the kidnapping, sale, fattening up and trade in babies and/or their body parts. Anyway, part one of today's first <i>Deterring Democracy</i> <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigis</i></a>:<br />
</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The foreign-imposed development model has emphasized "nontraditional exports" in recent years. Under the free-market conditions approved for defenceless Third World countries, the search for survival and gain will naturally lead to products that maximize profit, whatever the consequences, Coca production has soared in the Andes and elsewhere for this reason, but there are other examples as well. After the discovery of clandestine "human farms" and "fattening houses" for children in Honduras and Guatemala, Dr Lul's Genaro Morales, president of the Guatemalan Paediatric Association, said that child trafficking "is becoming one of the principal nontraditional export products," generating $20 million of business a year. The International Human Rights Federation, after an inquiry in Guatemala, gave a more conservative estimate, reporting that about three hundred children are kidnapped every year, taken to secret nurseries, then sold for adoption at about $10,000 per child.<br />
<br />
The IHRF investigators could not confirm reports that babies' organs were being sold to foreign buyers. This macabre belief is widely held in the region, however; indicative of the general mood, though hardly credible. The Honduran journal <i>El Tiempo</i> reported that the Paraguayan police rescued seven Brazilian babies from a gang that "intended to sacrifice them to organ banks in the United States, according to a charge in the courts." Brazil's Justice Ministry ordered federal police to investigate allegations that adopted children are being used for organ transplants in Europe, a practice "known to exist in Mexico and Thailand," the London <i>Guardian</i> reports, adding that "handicapped children are said to be preferred for transplant operations" and reviewing the process by which children are allegedly kidnapped, "disappeared," or given up by impoverished mothers, then adopted or used for transplants. <i>Tiempo</i> reported shortly after that an Appeals Judge in Honduras ordered "a meticulous investigation into the sale of Honduran children for the purpose of using their organs for transplant operations." A year earlier, the Secretary-General of the National Council of Social Services, which is in charge of adoptions, had reported that Honduran children "were being sold to the body traffic industry" for organ transplant."<br />
<br />
A Resolution of the European Parliament on the Trafficking of Central American Children alleged that near a "human farm" in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, infant corpses were found that "had been stripped of one or a number of organs." At another "human farm" in Guatemala, babies ranging from eleven days old to four months old had been found. The director of the farm, at the time of his arrest, declared that the children "were sold to American or Israeli families whose children needed organ transplants at the cost of $75,000 per child," the Resolution continues, expressing "its horror in the light of the facts" and calling for investigation and preventive measures.12<br />
<br />
As the region sinks into further misery, these reports continue to appear. In July 1990, a right-wing Honduran daily, under the headline "Loathsome Sale of Human Flesh," reported that police in El Salvador had discovered l group, headed by a lawyer, that was buying children to resell in the United States. An estimated 20,000 children disappear every year in Mexico, the report continues, destined for this end or for use in criminal activities such as transport of drugs "inside their bodies." "The most gory fact, however, is that many little ones are used for transplant of organs to children in the U.S.," which, it is suggested, may account for the fact that the highest rate of kidnapping of children from infants to eighteen-year-olds is in the Mexican regions bordering on the United States.13<br />
<br />
The one exception to the Central America horror story has been Costa Rica, set on a course of state-guided development by the Jose Figueres coup of 1948, with social-democratic welfare measures combined with harsh repression of labor, and virtual elimination of the armed forces. The US has always kept a wary eye on this deviation from the regional standards, despite the suppression of labor and the favorable conditions for foreign investors. In the 1980s, US pressures to dismantle the social-democratic features and restore the army elicited bitter complaints from Figueres and others who shared his commitments. While Costa Rica continues to stand apart from the region in political and economic development, the signs of what the Guatemalan <i>Central America Report</i> calls "The 'Central Americanization' of Costa Rica" are unmistakeable.14 <br />
<br />
Notes:<br />
11. Anne Chemin, Lc Monde, September 21,1988; <i>Guardian Weekly</i>, October 2. Ibid., September 30, 1990. <i>Tiempo</i>, August 10, 17, September 19, 1988. Dr Morales, cited by Robert Smith, <i>Report on Guatemala</i>, July/ August/ September 1989 (Guatemala News and Information Bureau, POB 28594, Oakland CA 94604).<br />
<br />
12. Ibid.<br />
<br />
13. <i>La Prensa Dominical</i>. Honduras, July 22,1990.<br />
<br />
14. <i>CAR</i>, April 28, 1989. For discussion of these matters, see references of Chapter 12, Note 58. </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yup, seems unbelievable that such a thing would happen, but as always Chomsky provides citations that are not easily dismissed. This description reminds me of Jonathan Swift's caustic satire <a href="http://art-bin.com/art/omodest.html" target="_blank">A Modest Proposal For Preventing The Children of Poor People in Ireland From Being A Burden to Their Parents or Country, and For Making Them Beneficial to The Public</a>. And it poses the interesting question, in our news-hungry age: why isn't this kind of horror news-worthy? Chomsky's suggested answer is that it works against the notion of America's democratic benefits of free-markets. <br />
<br />
Okay, so what constituted the <i>fushigi</i>? About an hour after reading this, at work I opened my gmail account, had received, as I do every day, from <a href="http://www.powells.com/" target="_blank">Powells Books</a> their 'Daily Dose' — a book and a customer's review of that. Well, today's Daily Dose was <b>The Barbarian Nurseries</b> by Hector Tobar. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5WHkmtZtYyhq7AeP20brW0A3pBrN0OSJ6bWNUKM3GI1BFEsfGCUgQTiYy3nGR-mzn_Y6mFs1wYc-TU0MKGPby3L_VbVmOws176tAg_MXL1UNYasqQ9Q4ohLVSLCLy_3a5yF0sc2RoUTb/s1600/HectorTobar.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:.5em; margin-bottom:.51em"><img border="0" height="240" width="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5WHkmtZtYyhq7AeP20brW0A3pBrN0OSJ6bWNUKM3GI1BFEsfGCUgQTiYy3nGR-mzn_Y6mFs1wYc-TU0MKGPby3L_VbVmOws176tAg_MXL1UNYasqQ9Q4ohLVSLCLy_3a5yF0sc2RoUTb/s320/HectorTobar.png" /></a><br />
<br />
Here's the text from the e.mail:</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9780374108991-0" target="_blank">The Barbarian Nurseries</a> by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H%C3%A9ctor_Tobar" target="_blank">Hector Tobar</a>.<br />
<br />
Rachel's Comments:<br />
"I was afraid I had become too cynical a reader to enjoy fiction anymore. This book restored my faith in fiction and in just about everything else. It's one of those reading experiences that makes you feel like you've emerged from a cocoon. Hector Tobar is my new hero. Absolutely amazing." <br />
<br />
Publisher Comments:<br />
<i>New York Times</i> Notable Book for 2011;<br />
A <i>Boston Globe</i> Best Fiction Book of 2011.<br />
<br />
The great panoramic social novel that Los Angeles deserves — a twenty-first century, <i>West Coast Bonfire of the Vanities</i> by the only writer qualified to capture the city in all its glory and complexity.<br />
<br />
With <i>The Barbarian Nurseries</i>, Hector Tobar gives our most misunderstood metropolis its great contemporary novel, taking us beyond the glimmer of Hollywood and deeper than camera-ready crime stories to reveal Southern California life as it really is, across its vast, sunshiny sprawl of classes, languages, dreams, and ambitions.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> I laughed at the juxtaposition of the description of the text to that of the title. What a weird <i>fushigi</i>.<br />
<br />
Well, if that weren't enough, the following night, 2012.06.06, instead of finishing this very disturbing <i>fushigi</i> book blog, I finally answered a co-worker who asked for my opinion on a proposal he wrote to help 'fix' the problems of the high costs of imprisoning people, and that of the problem of too light sentences and recidivism.<br />
<br />
I wasn't swayed by his argument. I felt it ignored the roots of the problem and proceeded with some false assumptions on the nature of punishment and human behaviour. In part, this is what I wrote:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear RM:<br />
I read your appeal and it has passion but does not convince me for several reasons. I will take the time to respect your effort by providing you with reasons for my opinion.<br />
<br />
… the American solution is financially effective: the state contracts prison management to giant corporations, who have lobbied with millions to ensure that they get the job because they are solely concerned with the social well being of black Americans. (Right!) And thus is created an MBA's wet-dream: make it illegal to be poor, offshore all significant manufacturing jobs to create endless unemployment, under-fund public schools, and you will have created a corporate money making machine. So what if it costs the state $150,000.00 per year (or whatever the number is) to incarcerate the serious criminals, because it ensures that the shrinking middle classes' taxes are transferred not into the hands of those unworthy welfare bums and drug addicts, but into the coffers of big business who have successfully lobbied to avoid paying taxes. I would not be surprised if, in the near future, your solution is enacted with the USA. It is a serious money making solution. But this pales in comparison to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Swift" target="_blank">Jonathan Swift's</a> solution to the problem of Irish poverty, when the British lords made destitute the already poor by forcing them off the land. Read his essay <a href="http://art-bin.com/art/omodest.html" target="_blank">A Modest Proposal</a>, which is a satirical presaging of today's MBAs. Of course, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_blake" target="_blank">William Blake</a> also delineated the solution to poverty in Britain in his time by highlighting the trade in children as chimney sweeps. Of course, this is now echoed in the current child sex trade practices of Asian countries, which is dependent for its continuation on poverty, a poverty which pelf takes advantage of and enriches the overseers. And I have just read in <i>Deterring Democracy</i> where Chomsky sites the trade of baby parts and organs for transplants for wealthy Americans and Israelis within the context of the destitution created by American 'free trade' practices brutally brought into place with wars both covert and overt, and with prolonged help of death squads and terror.<br />
<br />
<i><b>My pragmatic MBA nature found Brazil's solution to the problem of their criminal street children quite appealing: quietly kill them with covert death squads. Clean, simple, and efficient. And if the social poverty continues to create these ungrateful miscreants, then the price of a bullet is cheap, especially if the government is paying an American manufacturer for the supply of both the guns and bullets.</b></i><br />
…</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Well, the next night, shortly after recommencing <i>Deterring Democracy</i>, I read the following:</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The share of the poorer classes in the national income is "steadily falling, giving Brazil probably the highest concentration of income in the world." It has no progressive income tax or capital gains tax, but it does have galloping inflation and a huge foreign debt, while participating in a "Marshall Plan in reverse," in the words of former President José Sarney, referring to debt payments.<br />
<br />
It would only be fair to add that the authorities are concerned with the mounting problem of homeless and starving children, and are trying to reduce their numbers. <b><i>Amnesty International reports that death squads, often run by the police, are killing street children at a rate of about one a day, while "many more children, forced onto the streets to support their families, are being beaten and tortured by the police"</i></b> (Reuters, citing AI). "Poor children in Brazil are treated with contempt by the authorities, risking their lives simply by being on the streets," AI alleged. Most of the torture takes place under police custody or in state institutions. There are few complaints by victims or witnesses because of fear of the police, and the few cases that are investigated judicially result in light sentences (228).30<br />
<br />
Note:<br />
30 <i>South</i>, November 1989. Reuters, <i>NYT</i>, Sept. 6, 1990.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So, there you go. Not a book review, but a pair of the oddest <i>fushigis</i>. <br />
<br />
And I strongly recommend that you give <i>Deterring Democracy</i> a read. It is very, very good. And, despite some of the reviews I've read, not all that hard to read. </span><br />
<br />
2012.06.09 <i>Fushigi</i> Addendum.<br />
Well, the theme of prison reform continued to be <i>fushigi</i> extended: today, when I picked up my weekly <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/" target="_blank">Globe and Mail</a>, the cover story was about <i><b>bail</b></i> reform: <a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/a-case-for-bail-reform/article4244210/" target="_blank">CRIMINAL JUSTICE<br />
A case for bail reform</a> by Kirk Makin June 8, 2012.Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-58096762037418780802012-04-28T21:47:00.002-07:002012-04-29T01:11:15.259-07:002012.04.28 — Jung On Synchronicity and the Paranormal edited with an introduction by Roderick Main<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
C.G. Jung, Roderick Main (Editor)<br />
<a href="http://press.princeton.edu/titles/6368.htmlk" target="_blank"><i>Jung On Synchronicity and the Paranormal</i></a>. Princeton, NJ, 1998 by Princeton University Press, ISBN 069105837.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qRE1NRNe9g04Sgr82GfRjtJdRediV66X2GjILGqhhBQTDRWrcMbb9OC6TJjMThqN2oVKzJki8-gVGNo4hfRcGhpU2QWttqd1ux7A4SCD665k7Mdz3zY8YycLqMU_pf9mzO3_hYwjaCTn/s1600/Synchronicity-RMain035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="240" width="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-qRE1NRNe9g04Sgr82GfRjtJdRediV66X2GjILGqhhBQTDRWrcMbb9OC6TJjMThqN2oVKzJki8-gVGNo4hfRcGhpU2QWttqd1ux7A4SCD665k7Mdz3zY8YycLqMU_pf9mzO3_hYwjaCTn/s320/Synchronicity-RMain035.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Began 2012.02.01; Finished 2012.03.20<br />
<br />
★★★★★<br />
<br />
<i>Jung On Synchronicity and the Paranormal (JoS&tP</I>) is an important collection because it brings together in one short and well representative book, in Jung's own words, his interest in and experiences of the paranormal to a degree until now I'd read hints of but had never so plainly seen stated and elaborated. <i>JoS&tP</I> book goes far beyond what Jung included in his near-autobiographical, <a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/Memories_Dreams_Reflections.html?id=w6vUgN16x6EC&redir_esc=y" target="_blank">Memories, Dreams and Reflections</a>. In <i>MD&R</i> there are included some paranormal activities, but my reading between its lines suggested to me that there was much more than was disclosed there. <i>JoS&tP</I> confirms that and then some.<br />
<br />
In this anthology Roderick Main has done something quite interesting: even as Jung discloses a personal encounter with a ghost and other paranormal activities, including seances, Main provides linkages to some of the more under-discussed implications of quantum mechanics as they may apply to possible theories of paranormal experiences. Jung was very interested in the modern theories of physics because he saw a tangible theoretical and/or philosophical link between them and what his experiences with and ideas about paranormal experiences were leading him to think and theorize about psychology and the paranormal.<br />
<br />
I particularly and thoroughly enjoyed the letters that were included, and not just because I love writing and reading 'heavy' philosophical letters too, but because Jung's informal writing is delightful to read. He relaxes his careful official persona, and expresses some of his unsupported speculations and ideas as to the nature of things inexplicable, such as the meaning of life, in ways always thoughtful, but frequently funny, too.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZg2ZOqE1EwXWyTonc6iVfcvFTjHPfEEsJS0Sgk482THd1GJIzSYQIb0oHBEikUIkG90L5MWootirEZllldRS2axvtDMUw-2pzKHu2FNqbZHswoKVS7et4BBFe8hJ1gexgbMywWfVivHG/s1600/CGJung.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="271" width="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZg2ZOqE1EwXWyTonc6iVfcvFTjHPfEEsJS0Sgk482THd1GJIzSYQIb0oHBEikUIkG90L5MWootirEZllldRS2axvtDMUw-2pzKHu2FNqbZHswoKVS7et4BBFe8hJ1gexgbMywWfVivHG/s320/CGJung.png" /></a></div>His face-to-face encounter with a ghost in a British farm house is particularly interesting because my reading of the encounter entangled it to me in one of the most interesting and quite frankly bizarre <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigis</i></a> I've ever experienced. I have blogged it in <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.ca/2012/03/20120202-half-face-and-more-fushigis.html" target="_blank">2012.02.02 — Half Face and More fushigis</a>.<br />
<br />
Despite this being about the 'airy fairy' concepts of <i>synchronicity</i> and <i>ghosts</i>, mediums and seances, Jung kept his writing and speculations and experiences 'real'. He doesn't leap to conclusions with his experiences, but allows them to challenge and question his pre-formulated beliefs about what may or may not be so-called reality. And in the process he challenges the validity of our ideological fixation on a rationalistic causal — <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ren%C3%A9_Descartes" target="_blank">'Descartian'</a> science. Unlike much of western science, perhaps especially the behaviourists who dismiss as unreal that which falls outside the bounds that their theories delineate, Jung proves his stature as a <i>real</i> scientist by neither dismissing nor idealizing his paranormal experiences: they become simply a part of the chisel that Life provided him to chip away at our false ideas and thinking, even if it is stingy in providing additional clues.<br />
<br />
This is a solid five stars.<br />
<br />
Now for some text I found to be particularly interesting for one reason or the other.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<b>Pages 108-9<br />
From 'The theory of synchronicity and Jung's astrological experiment. (Letter to A.D. Cornell (9 February 1960), <i>Letters</i>, vol. 2 pp.537-43.)</b><br />
<br />
Jung points out that our perception of the an event is not the event, and that it is irrational — <i>unscientific</i> — to dismiss events because our perception is skewed or limited by our rational understanding of what is perceivable or possible. I laughed at how elegantly he used statistics to refute the completeness of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Causality" target="_blank">causality's</a> ability to explain 'everything.'</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> … My emphasis — as in all such cases — lies on the <i>reality</i> of the event, not on its having been perceived. This point of view accords with the hypothesis of an <i>causal</i> connection, i.e., a non-spatial and non-temporal conditioning of events.<br />
<br />
Since causality is not an axiomatic but a statistical truth, there must be exceptions in which time and space appear to be relative, otherwise the truth would not be statistical. On this epistemological basis one <i>must</i> conclude that the possibility does exist of observing non-spatial and non-temporal events — the very phenomena which we actually do observe contrary to all expectations and which we are now discussing.<br />
<br />
In my view, therefore, it is not our perception which is necessarily para- or supra-normal but the <i>event itself</i>. This, however, is not 'miraculous' but merely 'extra-ordinary' and unexpected, and then only from our biased standpoint which takes causality as axiomatic. From the statistical standpoint, of course, it is simply a matter of random phenomena, but from a truly realistic standpoint they are actual and significant facts. Exceptions are just as real as probabilities. The premise of probability simultaneously postulates the existence of the improbable.<br />
<br />
Wherever and whenever the collective unconscious (the basis of our psyche) comes into play, the possibility arises that something will happen which contradicts our rationalistic prejudices. Our consciousness performs a selective function and is in itself the product of selection, whereas the collective unconscious is simply Nature — and since Nature contains everything it also contains the unknown. It is beyond truth and error, independent of the interference of consciousness, and therefore often completely at odds with the intentions and attitudes of the ego.<br />
<br />
So far as we can see, the collective unconscious is identical with Nature to the extent that Nature herself, including matter, is unknown to us. I have nothing against the assumption that the psyche is a quality of matter or matter the concrete aspect of the psyche, provided that 'psyche' is defined as the collective unconscious. In my opinion the collective unconscious is the preconscious aspect of things on the 'animal' or instinctive level of the psyche. Everything that is stated or manifested by the psyche is an expression of the nature of things, whereof man is a part.<br />
<br />
Just as in physics we cannot observe nuclear processes directly, so there can be no direct observation of the contents of the collective unconscious. In both cases their actual nature can be inferred only from their effects -just as the trajectory of a nuclear particle in a Wilson chamber8 can be traced only by observing the condensation trail that follows its movement and thus makes it visible.<br />
<br />
In practice we observe the archetypal 'traces' primarily in dreams, where they become perceptible as psychic forms. But this is not the only way they reach perception: they can appear objectively and concretely in the form of physical facts just as well. In this case the observation is not an endopsychic perception (fantasy, intuition, vision, hallucination, etc.) but a real outer object which behaves as if it were motivated or evoked by, or as if it were expressing, .a thought corresponding to the archetype. Take for instance my case of the scarab: at the moment my patient was telling me her dream a real 'scarab' tried to get into the room, as if it had understood that it must play its mythological role as a symbol of rebirth. Even inanimate objects behave occasionally in the same way — meteorological phenomena, for instance.<br />
<br />
Since I assume that our instincts (i.e., archetypes) are biological facts and not arbitrary opinions, I do not believe that synchronistic (or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psi_phenomena" target="_blank">Psi-) phenomena</a> are due to any supra-normal (psychic) faculties but rather that they are <i>bound to occur</i> under certain conditions if space, time, and causality are not axiomatic but merely statistical truths. They occur spontaneously and not because we think we possess a special faculty for perceiving them. For this reason I do not think in terms of concepts like 'telepathy', 'precognition', or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychokinesis" target="_blank">'psychokinesis'</a>.<br />
<br />
In the same way, the archetype is not evoked by a conscious act of the will; experience shows that it is activated, independently of the will, in a psychic situation that needs compensating by an archetype. One might even speak of a spontaneous archetypal intervention. The language of religion calls these happenings 'God's will' — quite correctly in so far as this refers to the peculiar behaviour of the archetype, its spontaneity and its functional relation to the actual situation (108-9).<br />
…</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Pages116-7<br />
The theory of synchronicity and Jung's astrological experiment. (From 'An Astrological Experiment' <i>CW18</i> 1958.)</b> <br />
<br />
Jung argues that the 'truth' of causality relies on the existence of <i>acausality</i>. Again, he cites the use of statistical proofs of scientific truth as an inferred proof of causal relativity. He makes an interesting claim: <i>Meaning arises not from causality but from freedom, i. e., from causality.</i> His arguments are often appear, superficially, to be philosophical, but rest on a scientific attitude: <i>… science gives us only an average picture of the world, but not a true one. If human society consisted of average individuals only, it would be a sad sight indeed.</i></span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1186 Naturally I do not think that [the astrological] experiment or any other report on happenings of this kind proves anything; it merely points to something that even science can no longer overlook — namely, that its truths are in essence statistical and are therefore not absolute. Hence there is in nature a background of acausality, freedom, and meaningfulness which behaves complementarily to determinism, mechanism and meaninglessness; and it is to be assumed that such phenomena are observable. Owing to their peculiar nature, however, they will hardly be prevailed upon to lay aside the chance character that makes them so questionable. If they did this they would no longer be what they are — acausal, undetermined, meaningful.<br />
<br />
1187 Pure causality is only meaningful when used for the creation and functioning of an efficient instrument or machine by an intelligence standing outside this process and independent of it. A self-running process that operates entirely by its own causality, i.e., by absolute necessity, is meaningless. One of my critics accuses me of having too rigid a conception of causality. He has obviously not considered that if cause and effect were not necessarily5 connected there would hardly be any meaning in speaking of causality at all. My critic makes the same mistake as the famous scientist6 who refuses to believe that God played dice when he created the world. He fails to see that if God did not play dice he had no choice but to create a (from the human point of view) meaningless machine. Since this question involves a transcendental judgment there can be no final answer to it, only a paradoxical one. <i>Meaning arises not from causality but from freedom, i. e., from acausality.</i><br />
<br />
1188 Modern physics has deprived causality of its axiomatic character. Thus, when we explain natural events we do so by means of an instrument which is not quite reliable. Hence an element of uncertainty always attaches to our judgment, because — theoretically, at least — we might always be dealing with an exception to the rule which can only be registered negatively by the statistical method. No matter how small this chance is, (116) it nevertheless exists. Since causality is our only means of explanation and since it is only relatively valid, we explain the world by applying causality in a paradoxical way, both positively and negatively: A is the cause of B and possibly not. The negation can be omitted in the great majority of cases. But it is my contention that it cannot be omitted in the case of phenomena which are relatively independent of space and time. As the time-factor is indispensable to the concept of causality, one cannot speak of causality in a case where the time-factor is eliminated (as in precognition). <i>Statistical truth leaves a gap open for acausal phenomena</i>. And since our causalistic explanation of nature contains the possibility of its own negation, it belongs to the category <i>of transcendental judgments</i>, which are paradoxical or antinomian. That is so because nature is still beyond us and because science gives us only an average picture of the world, but not a true one. If human society consisted of average individuals only, it would be a sad sight indeed.<br />
<br />
1189 From a rational point of view, an experiment like the one I conducted is completely valueless, for the oftener it is repeated the more probable becomes its lack of results. But that this is also not so is proved by the very old tradition, which would hardly have come about had not these 'lucky hits' often happened in the past. They behave like Rhine's results: they are exceedingly improbable, and yet they happen so persistently that they even compel us to criticize the foundations of our probability calculus, or at least its applicability to certain kinds of material.<br />
<br />
1190 When analyzing unconscious processes I often had occasion to observe synchronistic or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Extrasensory_perception" target="_blank">ESP</a> phenomena, and I therefore turned my attention to the psychic conditions underlying them. I believe I have found that they nearly always occur in the region of archetypal constellations, that is, in situations which have either activated an archetype or were evoked by the autonomous activity of an archetype. It is these observations which led me to the idea of getting the combination of archetypes found in astrology to give a quantitatively measurable answer. In this I succeeded, as the result shows; indeed one could say that the organizing factor responded with enthusiasm to my prompting. The reader must pardon this anthropomorphism, which I know positively invites misinterpretation; it fits in excellently well with the psychological facts and aptly describes the emotional background from which synchronistic phenomena emerge.<br />
<br />
1191 I am aware that I ought at this point to discuss the psychology of the archetype, but this has been done so often and in such detail elsewhere that I do not wish to repeat myself now.<br />
<br />
1192 I am also aware of the enormous impression of improbability made by events of this kind, and that their comparative rarity does not make them any more probable. The statistical method therefore excludes them, as they do not belong to the average run of events (116-7).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Page 147<br />
Life after death</b><br />
<br />
Jung argues that so-called 'real' scientific experiments like those of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Banks_Rhine" target="_blank">J.B. Rhine</a> suggest that consciousness is comprised of or rests upon a continuity beyond our normal observation of space and time. Jung doesn't say outright there is life beyond death, but the more cautious <i>… there is no way to marshal valid proof of continuance of the soul after death, there are nevertheless experiences which make us thoughtful.</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4Rr8QNQoiSueWnG8_5UHo6nk_WkMSmcAL0yCkvCBigz_81hFZNyaeH7JVU413mBBUKVeBRy8S_4tpf8jjqZZ85ZrjuKmCS2MSu6KVIhCutA_XI8R3GsrGsAoyIqfAGdUCj8QaGoRjdPx/s1600/JBRhine.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="161" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4Rr8QNQoiSueWnG8_5UHo6nk_WkMSmcAL0yCkvCBigz_81hFZNyaeH7JVU413mBBUKVeBRy8S_4tpf8jjqZZ85ZrjuKmCS2MSu6KVIhCutA_XI8R3GsrGsAoyIqfAGdUCj8QaGoRjdPx/s320/JBRhine.png" /></a></div></span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> … When one has such experiences — and I will tell of others like them — one acquires a certain respect for the potentialities and arts of the unconscious. Only, one must remain critical and be aware that such communications may have a subjective meaning as well. They may be in accord with reality, and then again they may not. I have, however, learned that the views I have been able to form on the basis of such hints from the unconscious have been most rewarding. Naturally, I am not going to write a book of revelations about them, but I will acknowledge that I have a 'myth' which encourages me to look deeper into this whole realm. Myths are the earliest form of science. When I speak of things after death, I am speaking out of inner prompting, and can go no farther than to tell you dreams and myths that relate to this subject.<br />
<br />
Naturally, one can contend from the start that myths and dreams concerning continuity of life after death are merely compensating fantasies which are inherent in our natures — all life desires eternity. The only argument I can adduce in answer to this is the myth itself.<br />
<br />
However, there are indications that at least a part of the psyche is not subject to the laws of space and time. Scientific proof of that has been provided by the well-known J.B. Rhine experiments. Along with numerous cases of spontaneous foreknowledge, non-spatial perceptions, and so on — of which I have given a number of examples from my own life — these experiments prove that the psyche at times functions outside of the spatiotemporal law of causality. This indicates that our conceptions of space and time, and therefore of causality also, are incomplete. A complete picture of the world would require the addition of still another dimension; only then could the totality of phenomena be given a unified explanation. Hence it is that the rationalists insist to this day that parapsychological experiences do not really exist; for their world-view stands or falls by this question. If such phenomena occur at all, the rationalistic picture of the universe is invalid, because incomplete. Then the possibility of an other-valued reality behind the phenomenal world becomes an inescapable problem, and we must face the fact that our world, with its time, space, and causality, relates to another order of things lying behind or beneath it, in which neither 'here and there' nor 'earlier and later' are of importance. I have been convinced that at least a part of our psychic existence is characterized by a relativity of space and time. This relativity seems to increase, in proportion to the distance from consciousness, to an absolute condition of timelessness and spacelessness.<br />
<br />
Although there is no way to marshal valid proof of continuance of the soul after death, there are nevertheless experiences which make us thoughtful. I take them as hints, and do not presume to ascribe to them the significance of insights(147).<br />
…</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>Page 159<br />
Miscellaneous insights and speculations<br />
(<i>From</i>: Letter to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._L._Grant_Watson" target="_blank">E.L. Grant Watson</a> (9 February 1956), <i>Letters</i>, vol. 2, pp. 287-9.)</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dLTZ4ehUAdNIRbXy5YFJuoIJbWeTJ8fUBL86IflcszzlhsRKfzweow51Tfxll2CmkWZRnSbuTw38TQIdp-e__o3l7Om6XJBpD8P3rYK0faf8TncOs7ORz91h4nBdl0CTIhGcTkG80OEq/s1600/ELGrantWatson.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8dLTZ4ehUAdNIRbXy5YFJuoIJbWeTJ8fUBL86IflcszzlhsRKfzweow51Tfxll2CmkWZRnSbuTw38TQIdp-e__o3l7Om6XJBpD8P3rYK0faf8TncOs7ORz91h4nBdl0CTIhGcTkG80OEq/s320/ELGrantWatson.png" /></a></div>Synchronicity is the link between movement of mass in space and time and psychic energy. So-called statistical truths are made up of exceptions to the 'normal' laws of the universe.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are surely touching upon a most important fact when you begin to question the coincidence of a purely mathematical deduction with physical facts, such as the <i>sect aurea</i> (the Fibonacci series. My source calls him Fibon<i>a</i>cci, not -nicci. He lived 1180-1250) and in modern times the equations expressing the turbulence of gases. One has not marvelled enough about these parallelisms. It is quite obvious that there must exist a condition common to the moving body and the psychic 'movement', more than a merely logical <i>corollarium</i> or <i>consectarium</i>. I should call it an <i>irrational</i> (acausal) <i>corollary</i> of synchronicity. The Fibonacci series is self-evident and a property of the series of whole numbers, and it exists independently of empirical facts, as on the other hand the periodicity of a biological spiral occurs without application of mathematical reasoning unless one assumes an equal arrangement in living matter as well as in the human mind, <i>ergo</i> a property of matter (or of 'energy' or whatever you call the primordial principle) in general and consequently also of moving bodies in general, the psychic 'movement' included.<br />
<br />
If this argument stands to reason, the coincidence of physical and mental forms and also of physical and mental events (synchronicity) would needs be a regular occurrence, which, however, particularly with synchronicity, is not the case. This is a serious snag pointing, as it seems to me, to an indeterminate or at least indeterminable, apparently <i>arbitrary arrangement</i>. This is a much neglected but characteristic aspect of physical nature: the statistical truth is largely made up of <i>exception</i>s. That is the aspect of reality the poet and artist would insist upon, and that is also the reason why a philosophy exclusively based upon natural science is nearly always flat, superficial, and vastly beside the point, as it misses all the colourful improbable exceptions, the real 'salt of the earth'! It is not realistic, but rather an abstract half-truth, which, when applied to living man, destroys all individual values indispensable to human life(159).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For the next citation, I chose to append Main's extract from CW8 with a few more paragraphs that precede his. His citation from 'The Soul and Death' begins with paragraph 809, but I like how Jung leads up to that beginning with paragraph 807. So, from CW8, pars 807-8. Jung suggests that neurosis and nervous disorders derive primarily from being alienated from one's natural instincts. Rationalistic thinking as regards things like death stand in opposition to our instinctual feeling or understanding of death and its potential meaning, and therefore approaches being a neurotic symptom.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">807 … it would seem to be more in accord with the collective psyche of humanity to regard death as the fulfillment of life's meaning and as its final goal in the truest sense, instead of a mere meaningless cessation. Anyone who cherishes a rationalistic opinion on this score has isolated himself psychologically and stands opposed to his own basic human nature.<br />
<br />
808 This last sentence contains a fundamental truth about all neuroses, for nervous disorders consist primarily in an alienation from one's instincts, a splitting off of consciousness from certain basic facts of the psyche. Hence rationalistic opinions come unexpectedly close to neurotic symptoms. Like these, they consist of distorted thinking, which takes the place of psychologically correct thinking. The latter kind of thinking always retains its connection with the heart, with the depths of the psyche, the tap-root. For, enlightenment or no enlightenment, consciousness or no consciousness, nature prepares itself for death. If we could observe and register the thoughts of a young person when he has time and leisure for day-dreaming, we would discover that, aside from a few memory-images, his fantasies are mainly concerned with the future. As a matter of fact, most fantasies consist of anticipations. They are for the most part preparatory acts, or even psychic exercises for dealing with certain future realities. If we could make the same experiment with an ageing person—without his knowledge, of course— we would naturally find, owing to his tendency to look backwards, a greater number of memory-images than with a younger person, but we would also find a surprisingly large number of anticipations, including those of death. Thoughts of death pile up to an astonishing degree as the years increase. Willynilly, the ageing person prepares himself for death. That is why I think that nature herself is already preparing for the end. Objectively it is a matter of indifference what the individual consciousness may think about it. But subjectively it makes an enormous difference whether consciousness keeps in step with the psyche or whether it clings to opinions of which the heart knows nothing. It is just as neurotic in old age not to focus upon the goal of death as it is in youth to repress fantasies which have to do with the future.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now I return to the text in <i>JoS&tP</I>.<br />
<br />
<b>Pages 142-145<br />
From 'The Soul and Death' (1934) (CW8)</b><br />
<br />
Does death have meaning? Jung's experiences with people and their dreams who are approaching death have provided him with evidence that the unconscious remains unperturbed by its arrival and seems to view it as relatively unimportant. However the unconscious does seem to put importance on <i>how</i> one dies.</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">809 In my rather long psychological experience I have observed a great many people whose unconscious psychic activity I was able to follow into the immediate presence of death. As a rule the approaching end was indicated by those symbols which, in normal life also, proclaim changes of psychological condition — rebirth symbols such as changes of locality, journeys, and the like. I have frequently been able to trace back for over a year, in a dream-series, the indications of approaching death, even in cases where such thoughts were not prompted by the outward situation. Dying, therefore, has its onset long before actual death. Moreover, this often shows itself in peculiar changes of personality which may precede death by quite a long time. On the whole, I was astonished to see how little ado the unconscious psyche makes of death. It would seem as though death were something relatively unimportant, or perhaps our psyche does not bother about what happens to the individual. But it seems that the unconscious is all the more interested in <i>how</i> one dies; that is, whether the attitude of consciousness is adjusted to dying or not. For example, I once had to treat a woman of sixty-two. She was still hearty, and moderately intelligent. It was not for want of brains that she was unable to understand her dreams. It was unfortunately only too clear that she did not <i>want</i> to understand them. Her dreams were very plain, but also very disagreeable. She had got it fixed in her head that she was a faultless mother to her children, but the children did not share this view at all, and the dreams too displayed a conviction very much to the contrary. I was obliged to break off the treatment after some weeks of fruitless effort because I had to leave for military service (it was during the war). In the meantime the patient was smitten with an incurable disease, leading after a few months to a moribund condition which might bring about the end at any moment. Most of the time she was in a sort of delirious or somnambulistic state, and in this curious mental condition she spontaneously resumed the analytical work. She spoke of her dreams again and acknowledged to herself everything that she had previously denied to me with the greatest vehemence, and a lot more besides. This self-analytic work continued daily for several hours, for about six weeks. At the end of this period she had calmed herself, just like a patient during normal treatment, and then she died.<br />
<br />
810 From this and numerous other experiences of the kind I must conclude that our psyche is at least not indifferent to the dying of the individual. The urge, so often seen in those who are dying, to set to rights whatever is still wrong might point in the same direction.<br />
<br />
811 How these experiences are ultimately to be interpreted is a problem that exceeds the competence of an empirical science and goes beyond our intellectual capacities, for in order to reach a final conclusion one must necessarily have had the actual experience of death. This event unfortunately puts the observer in a position that makes it impossible for him to give an objective account of his experiences and of the conclusions resulting therefrom.<br />
<br />
812 Consciousness moves within narrow confines, within the brief span of time between its beginning and its end, and shortened by about a third by periods of sleep. The life of the body lasts somewhat longer; it always begins earlier and, very often, it ceases later than consciousness. Beginning and end are unavoidable aspects of all processes. Yet on closer examination it is extremely difficult to see where one process ends and another begins, since events and processes, beginnings and endings, merge into each other and form, strictly speaking, an indivisible continuum. We divide the processes from one another for the sake of discrimination and understanding, knowing full well that at bottom every division is arbitrary and conventional. This procedure in no way infringes the continuum of the world process, for "beginning" and "end" are primarily necessities of conscious cognition. We may establish with reasonable certainty that an individual consciousness as it relates to ourselves has come to an end. But whether this means that the continuity of the psychic process is also interrupted remains doubtful, since the psyche's attachment to the brain can be affirmed with far less certitude today than it could fifty years ago. Psychology must first digest certain parapsychological facts, which it has hardly begun to do as yet.<br />
<br />
813 The unconscious psyche appears to possess qualities which throw a most peculiar light on its relation to space and time. I am thinking of those spatial and temporal telepathic phenomena which, as we know, are much easier to ignore than to explain. In this regard science, with a few praiseworthy exceptions, has so far taken the easier path of ignoring them. I must confess, however, that the so-called telepathic faculties of the psyche have caused me many a headache, for the catchword "telepathy" is very far from explaining anything. The limitation of consciousness in space and time is such an overwhelming reality that every occasion when this fundamental truth is broken through must rank as an event of the highest theoretical significance, for it would prove that the space-time barrier can be annulled. The annulling factor would then be the psyche, since space-time would attach to it at most as a relative and conditioned quality. Under certain conditions it could even break through the barriers of space and time precisely because of a quality essential to it, that is, its relatively trans-spatial and trans-temporal nature. This possible transcendence of space-time, for which it seems to me there is a good deal of evidence, is of such incalculable import that it should spur the spirit of research to the greatest effort. Our present development of consciousness is, however, so backward that in general we still lack the scientific and intellectual equipment for adequately evaluating the facts of telepathy so far as they have bearing on the nature of the psyche. I have referred to this group of phenomena merely in order to point out that the psyche's attachment to the brain, i.e., its space-time limitation, is no longer as self-evident and incontrovertible as we have hitherto been led to believe.<br />
<br />
814 Anyone who has the least knowledge of the parapsychological material which already exists and has been thoroughly verified will know that so-called telepathic phenomena are undeniable facts. An objective and critical survey of the available data would establish that perceptions occur as if in part there were no space, in part no time. Naturally, one cannot draw from this the metaphysical conclusion that in the world of things as they are "in themselves" there is neither space nor time, and that the space-time category is therefore a web into which the human mind has woven itself as into a nebulous illusion. Space and time are not only the most immediate certainties for us, they are also obvious empirically, since everything observable happens as though it occurred in space and time. In the face of this overwhelming certainty it is understandable that reason should have the greatest difficulty in granting validity to the peculiar nature of telepathic phenomena. But anyone who does justice to the facts cannot but admit that their apparent space-timelessness is their most essential quality. In the last analysis, our naive perception and immediate certainty are, strictly speaking, no more than evidence of a psychological <i>a priori</i> form of perception which simply rules out any other form. The fact that we are totally unable to imagine a form of existence <i>without</i> space and time by no means proves that such an existence is in itself impossible. And therefore, just as we cannot draw, from an appearance of space-timelessness, any absolute conclusion about a space-timeless form of existence, so we are not entitled to conclude from the apparent space-time quality of our perception that there is no form of existence without space and time. It is not only permissible to doubt the absolute validity of space- time perception; it is, in view of the available facts, even imperative to do so. The hypothetical possibility that the psyche touches on a form of existence outside space and rime presents a scientific question-mark that merits serious consideration for a long time to come. The ideas and doubts of theoretical physicists in our own day should prompt a cautious mood in psychologists too; for, philosophically considered, what do we mean by the "limitedness of space" if not a relativization of the space category? Something similar might easily happen to the category of time (and to that of causality as well). Doubts about these matters are more warranted today than ever before (142-145).<br />
...</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> On reflection I am not sure what I expected to read before I began reading <i>JoS&tP</I>, but it turned out to be a far, far better read than I'd anticipated. Perhaps it was the inclusion of so many letters and extracts from letters, which I'd not read before except in tiny citations.<br />
<br />
Also, my prejudice regarding the word 'paranormal' lead me to anticipate something other than what Jung explored, which is a very scientific, coherent, and sound argument that our scientific foundation in causal biased rationalism is not just misguided, but inadequate to explain the full range of what happens within the so-called bounds of life.<br />
<br />
I highly recommend this book.<br />
</span><br />Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-12665264642761820052012-03-13T23:05:00.000-07:002012-03-16T22:30:00.758-07:002012.03.13 — Noam Chomsky: A Philosophic Review by Justin Leiber<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Justin_Leiber" target="_blank">Justin Leiber</a>.<br />
<a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/Noam_Chomsky.html?id=Q8FoAAAAIAAJ" target="_blank"><i>Noam Chomsky: A Philosophic Overview</i></a>.<br />
New York: <a href="http://us.macmillan.com/SMP.aspx" target="_blank">St. Martin's Press</a>, 1975, 0312576102. (Out of Print.)<br />
<br />
Began: 2011.10.01; Finished 2012.01.14<br />
★★★★★ <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7KpA-P3bfjLThGrgG6CuHwRPMZ6yMhPF-wgIyNLDnH48PUtPSm_-KKpL5BvivG05V_PDB1dOcd1-YRazZQVIbpJaHa7GIfxHp-88HFzH5NG7N1caGEQTvdEJgU-s6qhnnBIBQ7h5GsJw/s1600/Leiber%2527s+Chomsky001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: .11em; margin-left: .11em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7KpA-P3bfjLThGrgG6CuHwRPMZ6yMhPF-wgIyNLDnH48PUtPSm_-KKpL5BvivG05V_PDB1dOcd1-YRazZQVIbpJaHa7GIfxHp-88HFzH5NG7N1caGEQTvdEJgU-s6qhnnBIBQ7h5GsJw/s320/Leiber%2527s+Chomsky001.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>This book is not for the faint of heart. Nor is it for those who have become ideologically fixated on empirical / behavioural science in the humanities. Not only is this a book <i>for</i> people interested in how language works, it is far more importantly a powerful book for those who have come to believe that much of what passes for science in the behaviour / humanistic fields has been plagued with a false science that has managed to turn empiricism into a mind numbing ideology. For many readers, <i>NC:APO</i> is likely to be a transformational book in that it provides the solid analysis that supports making the leap from the flaccid so-called truths that behaviourism has provided us with to a resurgence of the scientific attitude of 18th & 19th century rationalism. That rationalism, unlike today's mask of rationalism, does not pretend that their philosophy can explain things beyond what it can. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: .1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLB3XJhK7K71Q1AaFLDbA6QPBrFFn4C6_GvWKYSkeMkUn6KzCSB4m-_nrO7ewLUmkl4l6klAZ7nw2pmz3HMql6HwgR3NAz36PG5sD02JAQ3toOy3VYKj2rrXeKcmsIxtBbs5ZJUHIGg_vQ/s1600/BFSkinner.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: .11em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLB3XJhK7K71Q1AaFLDbA6QPBrFFn4C6_GvWKYSkeMkUn6KzCSB4m-_nrO7ewLUmkl4l6klAZ7nw2pmz3HMql6HwgR3NAz36PG5sD02JAQ3toOy3VYKj2rrXeKcmsIxtBbs5ZJUHIGg_vQ/s320/BFSkinner.png" width="184" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Skinner</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Chomsky's argument applies to other fields, such as economics and psychology. For example, the behaviourist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/B._F._Skinner" target="_blank">B.F. Skinner's</a> is mentioned several times in unflattering terms. (In the book of his interviews with <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/35227.Mitsou_Ronat" target="_blank">Mitsou Ronat</a>, <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/979389.Language_and_Responsibility" target="_blank"><i>Language and Responsibility</i></a>, Chomsky goes so far as to say, <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: .1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7ziAGCcb2YYH-zHQk8M-3tH-5jJj11ggWw86TF9tA-kWJADkFnnM-750U6pivj2-aqsZSRvZYGLjuw6nEicA0rCCjj2rpt2_TQNib6M5VcxCNTsEo_XEyJbMANRQfl46HIkaX1sEFGo_/s1600/MistouRonat.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7ziAGCcb2YYH-zHQk8M-3tH-5jJj11ggWw86TF9tA-kWJADkFnnM-750U6pivj2-aqsZSRvZYGLjuw6nEicA0rCCjj2rpt2_TQNib6M5VcxCNTsEo_XEyJbMANRQfl46HIkaX1sEFGo_/s200/MistouRonat.png" width="142" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mitsou Ronat</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>paraphrased, that as far as he knows behaviourism has contributed nothing of <i>meaningful</i> scientific value.) <br />
<br />
<br />
Empiricism, perhaps especially in fields like linguistics, economics and psychology, act as if all behaviours and characteristics of the human species and the individuals within it, can be explained by stimulus/response theories. The book begins with Leiber succinctly recapping the history of how Chomsky, with the ease of a knife cutting through water, revolutionized linguistics and proved irrevocably that empirical behaviourism is completely inadequate to explain not only the acquisition of language but also its comprehension. Leiber describes Chomsky's argument that, since the sentences of a language that can be created are infinite, that the behavioural linguistic practice of cataloguing them so as to fully describe a language is fruitless. Chomsky extends that argument by pointing out that most sentences that human's comprehend in their lives they will not have ever seen or heard before. He then convincingly argues that the rules of grammar allow for sentences to be constructed that are incomprehensible, whereas sentences are easily created that don't properly follow the rules of grammar but which can be perfectly comprehensible. All of these are extremely strong indictments of some of behaviourism's fundamental tenets of human understanding of language and understanding.<br />
<br />
Chomsky's pragmatic rationalism may be most pointedly observed when he describes the real world experience that children learn language before they know the so-called rules of grammar. That repeatedly observed behaviour, from a behavioural model of language acquisition, would ostensibly be unheard of. Chomsky also observes with pragmatic rationalism, that children's language acquisition is largely independent of the oftentimes horrible language usage and training that parents provide. He also suggests with pragmatic rationalism that one might even be able to argue that in extreme cases the acquisition of language skills would appear to be independent of any significant language training because the training skills or environment are so poor that that the child's language acquisition would seem to occur despite their language training behaviour.<br />
<br />
The final nail in the behaviourist's coffin, as it pertains to linguistics anyway, is that when the rationale of the behaviourists' practices were questioned vigorously, it was revealed that behavioural linguistic practices were largely preconfigured by the human behaviour and/or psychological bias and preconceptions of those formulating the 'science.'<br />
<br />
Rationalistically, as opposed to empirically, Chomsky posits that there is something in the human being that promotes language acquisition independent of race and strict behaviourism. He called it <i>universal grammar</i>.<br />
<br />
And this gave me one of the greatest of finds, discoveries, epiphanies, joys I have experienced from reading a book in long time: in exactly the same way, with a nearly identical conceptualization, Chomsky proposes a description of language that is nearly identical to the methods and rational behind Jung's formulation of the <a href="" target="_blank">Collective Unconscious</a>. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvn3NxEwtrbVsFzC5EmrebVErrr-mSmCQnbyMGlU58lqx-wJzlBt5ukniJvP6Ii4X8eo4RhB5_y80r-cRZdbYQzwbujYwwaNIP6uh3ZVlj572Pc1NQPM6QzUHXSaUDLkWxQuTYrAmJYJoP/s1600/CollectiveUnconscious.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="194" width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvn3NxEwtrbVsFzC5EmrebVErrr-mSmCQnbyMGlU58lqx-wJzlBt5ukniJvP6Ii4X8eo4RhB5_y80r-cRZdbYQzwbujYwwaNIP6uh3ZVlj572Pc1NQPM6QzUHXSaUDLkWxQuTYrAmJYJoP/s320/CollectiveUnconscious.png" /></a></div><b><i>YES!</i></b> My intuitive prompt, from several years ago, that there was something similar in the philosophy of these two ostensibly disparate thinkers has been beautifully, elegantly, and delightfully affirmed. I wonder, is it <i>just</i> a coincidence that these two thinkers that I highly respect are both ignored or denigrated by our society's political and education leaders? <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: .1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXf_Waz1MuV4v4sPQF0trnBNHSNUh-AC1ytliGB7FIhibmQv39ZVEZ4wwEIHMMKHxkk2_yBETIaECM1NIHsMTHfJj_zldKVSG2EFZmujKLOANxS3I_tfxOMtspLVtBT7gxxjgmBEPYcgp/s1600/Jung.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: .11em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXf_Waz1MuV4v4sPQF0trnBNHSNUh-AC1ytliGB7FIhibmQv39ZVEZ4wwEIHMMKHxkk2_yBETIaECM1NIHsMTHfJj_zldKVSG2EFZmujKLOANxS3I_tfxOMtspLVtBT7gxxjgmBEPYcgp/s200/Jung.png" width="140" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jung</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>This commonality is even more strongly affirmed with the idea of a 'deep structure,' which Chomsky posits as providing the pre-language fundamentals of language acquisition. His description reminds me of Jung's descriptions of the common imagery and symbolism of myth, dreams as an expression of the collective unconscious. And when the problem of how to constrain a universal grammar to create only meaningful sentences was discussed, I am again reminded of Jung's theories about the problem of constraining<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUKTQX1zZKhfrOHxXbIadmth0RDLSf3xIOMLCNBHwjzNT_rl7FexuZd8O-gwnJkEVeKBnzVQPQQyJgBEtDtbV95pSqIgFXSC1G3If6tz2sAN3i9D1tj0CpYPKHgqSKWMgniVfETu_9B6TX/s1600/Cigar.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="145" width="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUKTQX1zZKhfrOHxXbIadmth0RDLSf3xIOMLCNBHwjzNT_rl7FexuZd8O-gwnJkEVeKBnzVQPQQyJgBEtDtbV95pSqIgFXSC1G3If6tz2sAN3i9D1tj0CpYPKHgqSKWMgniVfETu_9B6TX/s320/Cigar.png" /></a></div>(not Jung's word) the symbols to being meaningful. A very amusing formulation of that problem is the anecdote attributed to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigmund_Freud" target="_blank">Sigmund Freud</a>: <i>sometimes a cigar is only a cigar</i>. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: .1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhw7_nuCgxoRuMNC2HauEzQraf8X_m82ImnaQQYDvCi5zCXYhN9Q8vBze9klYK-qVIkudRpLugsxftoaoXEYC3tGu5UfroaImYyKoQYilKhfwlizzWo6JfEDf0lhfzurfzGLZRgVu0QR1r/s1600/Freud1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhw7_nuCgxoRuMNC2HauEzQraf8X_m82ImnaQQYDvCi5zCXYhN9Q8vBze9klYK-qVIkudRpLugsxftoaoXEYC3tGu5UfroaImYyKoQYilKhfwlizzWo6JfEDf0lhfzurfzGLZRgVu0QR1r/s200/Freud1.png" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Freud</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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This is a <i>brilliant</i> and very important book. That I came across it by accident — I extend a heartfelt <i>Thank you</i> to J&L @ <a href="http://www.renaissancebookstore.com/" target="_blank">Renaissance Books</a> for catching this one for me without my asking!<br />
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Now for some extended citations:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What Chomsky came to show by asking his questions was that structuralist "methods" actually were, in effect, <i>theories</i> about the general nature of human language and about how language could be described adequately. Once the questions were pressed far enough, it became clear that the methods in question could not achieve adequate descriptions and that the tacit theory about human language was false. It is perhaps a measure of Chomsky's success that present editions of Harris's book are titled just <i>Structural Linguistics</i>, the word "Methods" having been dropped; and that linguists now write books and teach courses about <i>language</i> without the —s, about "theoretical linguistics," "the abstract theory of language," "universal grammar," and "universal phonetic theory."<br />
<br />
The questions of projection, formulation, and adequacy led to the suggestion that procedure be changed; and, more abstractly, that the presuppositions—behaviourism and empiricism— that underlay structuralist procedure be changed. So let us begin by asking again the first of our questions. Why not simply ask the game players (or speakers of a corpus) what the alphabet and vocabulary are, and what instances of letters and words (or phonemes and morphemes) are the same or different?<br />
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The general answer of the structuralist is that he is concerned with what people are doing and <i>not</i> with what people <i>think</i> they are doing. This general answer, of course, emphasizes the structuralist's commitment to empiricism and, more specifically, to behaviourism, that is, he is committed to the view that science should be concerned only with what is observable, and thus that the human sciences should deal with observed human behaviour rather than with "subjective" thoughts and feelings. More specifically, the structuralist would say that people's judgments about what they are doing are in principle essentially irrelevant. The linguist is describing objective noise, a physical phenomenon which <i>does</i>, in the cases that interest the linguist, <i>happen to exhibit certain regularities</i>, that is, certain species, genera, and families of noises that regularly appear in certain patterns. Admittedly, speaker-hearers of the language are aware of some of these regularities and may be able to give the linguist revealing hints about them, but the structuralist insists that since what he is describing has objective existence quite apart from what people may think, quite apart from psychology, he ought to be able to describe it without asking what people think. There is another, less theoretical, reason why the structuralist wants to discover the grammar of a language without asking the native speakers questions, namely, they will very likely give misleading or false answers.<br />
<br />
The native speaker is not a linguist and so cannot be expected to understand or answer accurately questions about what are the minimal sound units (phonemes) and minimal grammatical units (morphemes) of his language. Many studies have shown that ordinary language users are likely to 'hear' distinctions in sound that are not there in fact or to mistake variant pronunciations of a phoneme for more significant differences. If we do teach the native speaker structural linguistics, he will then become more accurate but he will be in no better position than the normative linguist. Indeed, he may be in a worse position because his cultural attitudes—about status, etiquette, meaning, and so on—may bias his descriptions. After all, we would be hesitant about accepting conclusions reached by a psychologist examining his own psychology, by a doctor diagnosing his own illness, and so on.<br />
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Of course, there are limits to this skepticism. Aside from accepting the corpus itself as a largely regular set of sentences, the linguist may use his ingenuity in "eliciting" new sentences. The corpus may lead the linguist to wonder whether or not a certain sentence is regular, or grammatical. The difficulty then is to see if one can put the native speaker in such a position that he will say the sentence (or indicate that it is regular) only if it is regular. The real problem of "elicitation" is that of ensuring that one does not prejudice the issue: there is a risk that the native speaker will say something irregular to please the linguist, or from confusion, and so on; equally there is a … (38-9).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And, below, Chomsky makes the identical argument about understanding language as Jung makes about understanding human psychology:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As Chomsky puts it in <i>Syntactic Structures</i>, given a corpus of utterances belonging to a natural language, there is neither a <i>discovery</i> nor a <i>decision procedure</i>. That is, given a particular corpus (or set of assumptions) belonging to a natural language, there is no mechanical, step-by-step procedure for discovering the grammar of the language. If there were such a discovery procedure, structuralism would be vindicated, because this would mean that each corpus of noise could be <i>adequately and determinately</i> described. Even if there were a decision procedure this implication would hold, though it would require creativity for the linguist to arrive at <i>the</i> grammar.<br />
<br />
Chomsky's claim that there is no discovery or decision procedure for arriving at <i>the</i> grammar of a language, although grammars may be given comparative evaluations, is a way of pointing out that it is impossible to write <i>the</i> grammars of human languages without a very substantial theory of the human mind and its language acquiring, and processing, software. Presumably, Chomsky would accept the claim that adequate and determinate grammars are possible only if such a substantial theory is part of the input for arriving at such grammars. There must be a number of universal features common to the grammars of all natural languages, and these must derive from innate features of man's language-acquisition device, in order for there to be adequately determinate grammars (that is, by rough analogy, for <i>completeness</i> to obtain, regarding the grammar of each language as what may be "proved" from sentences of that language <i>plus</i> the "axioms" of a more substantial theory of language and language acquisition than we now have).<br />
<br />
Linguists can only go about determining the universal characteristics of human language in an indirect and conjectural way, of course: there is no direct way of looking into the "black box" of language processing and acquisition. As linguists proceed, in painstaking and piecemeal fashion, to construct and evaluate general, explicit, and formal grammars, or partial grammars, of particular languages, it may be hoped that they will find universal features and thus that they will approach explanatory adequacy. For an analogy, imagine that we wanted to know about the internal structure of some kind of computer found on Mars: the rules of the game are that we cannot look inside at the hardware but can only try to infer the inner structure through observing the inputs and outputs. What we note is that when one of these machines is exposed to a small number of strings (drawn, apparently, from a particular infinite set of strings, a "language") its output is, more or less, the infinite set. We can see that it is impossible, using just logic principles, to arrive at the infinite output by taking a typical input (i.e., no discovery or decision procedure exists). All we can say is that, given a particular input, such and such an output (as generated by a grammar) is more likely than some other sort. As we write partial grammars of outputs A through Z, for inputs A through Z, we would expect various uniformities, and we would reformulate our grammars in terms of these uniformities. The internal software of these Martian computers will be, in particular, the assumptions that must be made in order to get in a regular fashion from these various inputs to their respective outputs (66-7).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And below we see Chomksy's idea of a 'deep structure.' In both imagery and functional description there is very little difference between it and Jung's idea of the collective unconscious: </span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">… (G) English is not a finite-state language.<br />
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Note that while this argument is a specific realization of Chomsky's principle that the linguist must show how the infinity of sentences that compose a natural language can be generated through finite means, the argument shows more than that a natural language consists of an infinite number of sentences. … [I]t follows that a natural language <i>cannot</i> be specified except through specifying a generative device, a device that employs recursion. But from the present argument it also follows that the device must be more powerful than a finite-state device with recursive loops, even though such a device does have the capacity of generating an infinite number of sentences.<br />
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I have devoted a great deal more space to this argument than Chomsky did in <i>Syntactic Structures</i>. My reason is twofold. First, my experience has been that people who have little or no familiarity with this general sort of argument may fail to grasp the argument in its entirety, to appreciate its force and limits, if the argument is not explained at length and with some repetitions. People have been confused about it even in print. Secondly, the argument already contains, at least in miniature, the most basic elements in Chomsky's approach to language. The basic philosophic and psychological issues, and Chomsky's way of reasoning about theory, are on the table, at least in embryo.<br />
<br />
Of course, from the point of view of a practicing linguist particularly interested in some approximation of part of the grammar of English, absolutely nothing of any importance or interest has been said. But as Chomsky's reasoning about the nature of grammar proceeds—in the argument of <i>Syntactic Structures</i> that English is a transformational-generative grammar with particular sorts of rules, in the further developments found in the "standard theory" of <i>Aspects of the Theory of Syntax</i>, and in the "extended standard theory" of his most recent papers —the basic principles of this argument are employed again and again, though the applications are much more complicated, and the results of course much closer to an adequate simulation of our grammatical knowledge than this extremely elementary initial step. The argument that an adequate description of a natural language can only be given through specification of a generative device (whose software the competent speaker of the language must minimally internalize) remains constant, though the specification of the requirements that characterize the device has become much more detailed. Equally constant is the claim that natural language sentences have an <i>abstract</i> or <i>deep structure</i> that <i>cannot</i> be explicated by a physical description of such sentences (as noise) and that is not present in a simple sensory, or observational, characterization of such sequences of noise "bounded by silence" (though deep structure has become ever more abstract and complex as the theory has developed, leading in the past few years to a split between transformational-generative linguists on precisely how abstract deep structure must be) (93-4).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And, also in line with Jung, Chomsky argues that the so-called flakily subjective quality of <i>meaning</i> enters the picture in order for language acquisition, understanding and usage to be possible:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In summary, the grammar sketched in <i>Syntactic Structures</i> consists of three sorts of rules, which operate in sequence in generating the sentences of English and in providing them with phonological realizations in speech.<br />
<br />
1. Phrase-structure rules which rewrite single, non-terminal symbols into, eventually, terminal symbols or words, in this manner creating a tree diagram or phrase-structure bracketing.<br />
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2. Transformational rules, which operate upon the phrase structures produced by (1), deleting, reshuffling, and joining portions of such structures. Singulary [sic] transformations, whose input is single phrase-structure (kernel) strings, are either obligatory or optional, optional transformations including passive, negative, and question transformations. Generalized transformations, which are always optional, join two or more kernel strings. As opposed to the phrase-structure rules, transformations are ordered, in that some must be applied after others—the passive transformation, for example, must apply <i>before</i> the transformation that makes the verb plural or singular, and so on, because it is the noun that is put into subject position by the passive transformation that determines the form of the verb.<br />
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3. Morphophonemic rules, which convert the output of (2), the sentences of the language from a syntactical viewpoint, into the actual sounds of speech. (These rules, of which no account has been given here, are similar to the phrase-structure rules. But they allow the rewriting of <i>more</i> than one symbol, and they are "context-sensitive" in that they may indicate that a symbol is to be rewritten in a particular way <i>only if</i> certain symbols precede or follow that symbol. For example, the purely syntactical rules (1) and (2) will generate strings such as <i>take + past-tense</i>; the rule that will convert that segment into the sounds that we write as "took" is a morphophonemic rule.)<br />
<br />
If one has grasped the nature of these rules, and the general structure of the grammar that is summarized here, one will not find it difficult to follow the changes that are brought in with the "standard theory" of <i>Aspects of the Theory of Syntax</i> (1965), and in still more recent work. I mention this because the reader may feel that he has been burdened with enough of a technical apparatus, and so he has. Perhaps the major change that takes place is that <i>meaning</i> becomes a respectable and central part of linguistics: to the <i>syntactical</i> and <i>phonological</i> components that may be found in the first version of the theory. <i>Aspects</i> adds a third <i>semantic</i> component. The formulation of this component, and its relationship to the others, will be seen as a major theatre of controversy. The phonological component undergoes radical changes in <i>The Sound Pattern of English</i> (1968), which Chomsky coauthored with his MIT colleague Morris Halle. In that book considerable evidence is marshalled for the view that the input… (107-8).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A further statement that parallels Jung. In this case the problem of everything having the possibility of symbolizing or alluding to everything and having no meaning at all. <i>Meaningfulness</i> is what makes the distinction. Leiber does not cite Chomsky connecting the constraint, here, to meaningfulness, but it seems obvious that meaningfulness is in the end the singular constraint. In an odd way, I see Chomsky struggling with a similar problem to Jung's examination of the meaning of dreams as an expression of the unconscious: for Chomsky, it is the struggle to see how a 'deep structure' can express language meaningfully.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">… the <i>constraint</i> would be universal. Universal constraints have seemed particularly important to transformational grammarians because, as Chomsky has often emphasized, transformational rules are so powerful that unless such constraints are established there will be by far too many ways of writing the grammars of particular languages. It has been established that, given a few powerful and unnatural transformational rules, one can write a perhaps highly unnatural, but nonetheless observationally adequate, grammar for any possible human language. The existence for universal constraints would be one of the most powerful ways of eliminating such excesses and reducing the range of solutions in establishing grammars: to put it another way, if one wants to determine the internal structure of a generative device of considerable power, it is likely to be more helpful to find what the device cannot do than what it can.<br />
<br />
But the drive toward universality (and reactions toward its excesses) has extended beyond the standard theory of <i>Aspects</i>, and it has led to conflict and reformulation, particularly in controversy between generative semantics and interpretive semantics.<br />
<br />
<br />
The general thrust of the generative-semanticist proposal for improving transformational grammar is very simple; if some semantic features of sentences can be specified in their syntactical deep structure why can not all such features be specified? Why split the syntactic and semantic components at all? Why not equate ultimate syntactic deep structure with semantic representation? Or, more speculatively, one can ask, why not take the system of semantic representation to be something like the familiar predicate logic (with perhaps a few additions), and the base to be such a system supplemented with a relatively small number of "atomic predicates," or semantic primitives, universal to human thought? </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am going to interrupt this paragraph to propose a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taoism" target="_blank">Taoist</a> / Jungian answer to these questions: because the foundations of language, like dreams, is pre- and/or non-verbal. Philosophically the problem of words struggling to represent non-verbal meaning has been wrestled for a very long time, most especially by artists and poets and philosophers. And there is a very interesting East/West split when it comes to the approach to wrestling with that 'problem'. In the east, they write <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/K%C5%8Dan" target="_blank">koans</a> such as "Does a dog have Buddha nature or not?"; but in the west they write tomes like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Being_and_Time" target="_blank">Being and Time</a> — (or even Jung, with his 20 volumes!). Now back to Leiber:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The words of particular languages, Just as their surface syntactical structures, would decompose into extremely abstract and complex syntactic-semantical deep structures; the features constituting the lexical-syntactical peculiarities of a language would be given as a series of transformations relating the syntactic-semantical deep structures (or "natural logic formulas") of the "universal base" to their particular realizations in the language in question, similarly for the peculiarities of other human languages (122). </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And now for Chomsky's unequivocally argument that linguistics belongs to a branch of psychology and not behavioural science.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chomsky has said, both in the paper quoted above and in other recent papers, that the crucial problem of present transformational-generative grammatical work is that transformational grammars are <i>too</i> powerful. There is not a sufficient number of restrictions on the construction of such grammars, and thus such grammars are not testable against each other (though, of course, they are selected by the evidence, over other sorts of grammars—for example, the transformational grammars of <i>Aspects</i> and <i>Syntactic Structures</i> are inadequate on the evidence, and, of course, phrase-structure and finite-state grammars are certainly inadequate). Many critics, who are quite convinced of the general validity of the transformational-generative approach to language, have made this point; it is a point on which much work must be done. But it is wrong to think of this as a criticism of any stage in Chomsky's development of transformational-generative grammar. Chomsky has always maintained that this was the crucial area for work in linguistic theory. The fundamental problem of linguistic theory is to describe the essential, as against purely happenstance, features of natural (human) language in as circumscribed a way as possible. In other words, to approach explanatory adequacy by accounting for the choice of a particular grammar on the part of a human language-learner given the data about the particular human language that he is exposed to is to specify the software of man's language acquisition device.<br />
<br />
<br />
The problem is not how a universal thinking machine, programmed with nothing more specific or contentious than the "universal notation" of, say, predicate logic, would determine the grammar of a particular human language, on exposure to a limited number of its sentences. Such a device, which simulates, in that it makes use of no species-specific, "innate" principles for limiting its choice of grammars, the seventeenth-century empiricist view of man as learning essentially everything from experience, would produce countless numbers of "wrong" solutions, "wrong" meaning, "a 'solution' which a normal human language-learner would not, essentially could not, think up." For that reason, of course, Chomsky found structural linguistics wrong, and for that reason Chomsky has maintained that linguistics is a branch of psychology and part of the study of the human mind. It is also for that reason that Chomsky has found behaviourism and radical empiricism wrong, at least in their stronger forms—those forms that propose to make serious theoretical and empirical claims as opposed to essentially terminological stipulations (such as, for example, the arguments of those who define their ]'argon in such a way that no discovery about human beings, or anything else, <i>could ever</i> constitute the slightest evidence against behaviourism and empiricism). What <i>is</i> the problem is to discover the principles, particularly specific to man in being much narrower and circumscribed than those of a generalized calculating device, that operate in language learning and are the basis for the universal features of human language.<br />
<br />
It is particularly clear that Chomsky thinks that this is quite a problem. He has been much more reluctant than some transformational-generative linguists in making confident claims about which features of natural languages are universal and still more as to what universal features of language acquisition give rise to this universality. Chomsky has maintained that all natural languages are transformational and have rules that operate on abstract, as opposed to explicit surface, structures;<br />
<br />
that all human languages make use of cycles of transformations working on successively more inclusive structures within sentences; and he has suggested that nouns, verbs, and adjectives are likely to prove universal deep-syntactic categories of human languages, and that at least one constraint on grammatical rules, which prohibits transformations that move material in or out of various conjunctive structures, is probably universal. But he has emphasized, particularly in his most recent papers, that the confident identification of particular universals is not possible at this point (132-4).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now for one of Chomsky's pet peeves: the failure of university professors to honour the integrity of learning and become courtiers to the halls of wealth and power.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>CHAPTER 3 Psychology, Philosophy, Politics</b><br />
<br />
OF course, we have been talking about these three topics all along; for Chomskyan linguistics is above all an attempt to characterize a significant portion of human psychology (as, substantially, the study of the software of human nature), and this sort of characterization can be seen as establishing some of the claims of traditional rationalism. The view of man that results might be thought to have political significance.<br />
<br />
In this final chapter I want to talk about what Chomsky's work may mean for psychology, philosophy, and politics; about his views of these subjects, particularly as ramifications and interpretations of his work in linguistics; about the work in these fields that is convergent with his approach; and about various criticisms and misunderstandings that have been made respecting his general rationalist view of man. Psychology, philosophy, and politics are not strange bedfellows, in Chomsky's view, and this attitude makes many people find Chomsky's work exciting and important (or infuriatingly pretentious and misguided). If anything has been characteristic of analytic philosophy, or the rather more traditional (and perhaps less subtle) empiricism, and behaviourism, that has been very common among social and psychological scientists of all sorts, it is the hardly questioned conviction that no psychological discovery, no psychological <i>fact</i>, can establish, or refute, any philosophic claim (and the reverse), and that neither can properly determine the answer to any political question (at least in Aristotle's sense of politics as the practical job of deciding, and achieving, what is good for man, within and between nation states).<br />
<br />
In part, of course, this subconscious positivism has been a result of the increasing professionalization of knowledge; our century has seen the concentration of all theoretical scientific and intellectual activity in the university, which is divided into professional departments (or unions), each zealously insisting on its independence and importance. The professional academic is institutionally pressed to believe both that the claims and suppositions of each discipline are independent of the others and that generalizations which are not professional, in that they are interdisciplinary, are not really "scientific" or "objective." But, equally, this century has been dominated by a rather skeptical empiricism (often expressed in analytic terms) that insists that the truths of reason (the logical software) are quite independent of those of (or about) human nature, and that neither sort, properly considered, can tell us what we ought to decide to do politically or morally.<br />
<br />
Skepticism, empiricism and behaviourism, the professionalization and departmentalization of knowledge—these can seem a worthy commitment to slow, "solid," painstaking progress in detail, shorn of grandiose mysticism, "moralistic ranting," and "ideology." A familiar metaphor can be inverted aptly by those sympathetic to analytic empiricism or to straightforward behaviourism: it is that of the careful, humble "hedgehog" against the wild and dubious "fox." The understood moral is that the attempt to make general rational claims about man's condition, with psychological, philosophical, and political implications—"ideology"—is inevitably a "foxy" affair: charlatanism is the only refuge of the generalist. An obvious implication of the metaphor that is not often stressed by the radical empiricist-behaviourist is that if one hires a university faculty of hedgehogs, they will defend the status quo. At least they will defend the status quo in the sense that they will firmly maintain that no attack on it can be rational and objective: rationality and objectivity come into politics only in that the hedgehogs can tell the government (any government with any goals) the specific techniques of "behavioural reinforcement" that will achieve the goals which are themselves beyond the judgment of the poor, short-sighted hedgehog.<br />
<br />
For that is the other, darker side of the radical empiricist's skepticism: as an organized social phenomenon it is little more than a rationalization of the economic subservience of the university to the political and economic power of the status quo; for though, from the hedgehogian point of view, he can do research in behavioural reinforcement, and so on, for the capitalist-imperialists or commissar-imperialists, he in fact will do the research that boards of trustees and governmental granting institutions find proper. Thus, though the faculty and staff of Michigan State University who trained Diem's secret police could equally have undertaken research and instruction helpful to Diem's opponents, or to the American peace movement, they would not be paid for it (or even allowed to do it at all as American citizens). Seen in this light, the short-sighted hedgehog would seem to be—as Martin Luther once wrote of reason— a whore: he works for whoever pays and he does not question his employer's tastes, except as to practicality. And—strangely enough—he is likely to call any attempt to make the university an independent general critic of society and government, "politicization" or "ideologizing." How convenient a philosophy that allows the hedgehog to believe that any research that might lead to a quarrel with the basic character of the established political and economic order is necessarily unscientific and bogus foxiness! The hedgehog is very likely to be a self-satisfied hedgehog; his philosophy teaches him that the fox—since there is no real scientific and objective knowledge beyond what hedgehogs can get while being dutiful and doughty hedgehogs—is really an irresponsible rogue hedgehog, stumbling about and presumably suffering from psychiatric problems and an inflated ego, while pretending to see truths beyond the resolution of vision proper to hedgehogs (132-7).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A brilliant book in many, many ways. I have directed my local used bookstore proprietors to keep their open for Chomsky's books on linguistics.<br />
<br />
Finally, it was a complete delight that in this summary of Chomsky my intuitive thought that there was something Jungian in Chomsky has been confirmed so tangibly.</span><br />Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-33416727071020537352012-02-03T23:31:00.000-08:002012-02-03T23:31:36.942-08:002012.02.03 — Mandragola a Play by Niccolò Machiavelli<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4ir2QyfiWOCrwEBA3BvUWAP8CbD_1DrU5JFmUK_nHqXk6MNBUTOD7PCMJr903AzSacy6XXdZD4a9XKFN41zKEfY_4Q7VwkNZyZCIRjOwB1AlEhyphenhyphenNg51qcMIvEFKpQi4ncgChFzhXNBMm/s1600/Mandragola001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:.5em; margin-bottom:..1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH4ir2QyfiWOCrwEBA3BvUWAP8CbD_1DrU5JFmUK_nHqXk6MNBUTOD7PCMJr903AzSacy6XXdZD4a9XKFN41zKEfY_4Q7VwkNZyZCIRjOwB1AlEhyphenhyphenNg51qcMIvEFKpQi4ncgChFzhXNBMm/s320/Mandragola001.jpg" /></a></div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niccol%C3%B2_Machiavelli" target="_blank">Niccolò Machiavelli</a><br />
New York: Bobbs-Merrill Company, (originally published in 1957).<br />
ISBN 0672602318.<br />
<br />
★★★☆☆<br />
<br />
This was a fun read, but not a great read. The 'high' farcical comedy of this style is entertaining, but not challenging. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgo4Rv52X2TB8_oFQn7qBEeh2tHx-N_SpBfljvQT0QNfM1n1WDyCNl42ukgQRrolQoynexLJs2FkRA8g-K1f8Qvm2IVyb34bPO3-IYpZiEx5pOG0u3Ay6PxsBezEmG8MrrNM5soxWEluoW/s1600/machiavelli.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgo4Rv52X2TB8_oFQn7qBEeh2tHx-N_SpBfljvQT0QNfM1n1WDyCNl42ukgQRrolQoynexLJs2FkRA8g-K1f8Qvm2IVyb34bPO3-IYpZiEx5pOG0u3Ay6PxsBezEmG8MrrNM5soxWEluoW/s320/machiavelli.png" /></a></div>The premise aligns with Machiavelli's concerns about morality and power. A <br />
young man with some wealth lusts after a beautiful married women. In fact, as he closes in on her, he expresses his fear of failure:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
… anybody who says waiting is a hard thing is telling the truth. I'm losing ten pounds every hour thinning of where I am now and of where I may be two hours from now, fearing that something may suddenly happen to upset my whole plan: if that should happen this would be the last night of my life, for I'll either throw myself in the Arno, or I'll hang myself, or I'll fling myself out of those windows, or I'll stab myself on her doorstep. Something or other like that I'm bound to do, to end it all… (4.4.).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And the writing is very easy to read. And I might have given it another star if the Machiavelli had honoured the object of the lusting protagonist, who was frequently cited by the various characters as being intelligent and moral. Instead he has her capitulate to the young lover and the morals of her family and church and embrace being a lover.<br />
<br />
I guess I'm getting old, because I just don't quite believe the credibility of the characters' behaviours. But then if this is high farce — which this most certainly is — then the characters are given the freedom to be incredible. However, if that belief doesn't work, then the incredible behaviours fail.<br />
<br />
The book brought more than one smile to my face, and there was an snippet of an economic comment that I may well find excellent to include in my economics course. That, and very easy writing, earns it 4 stars. However, the failure of Machiavelli to fully honour Lucrezia's intelligence docks it one star.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-59219501461585056302012-01-31T22:30:00.000-08:002012-12-15T20:49:55.945-08:002012.01.31 — Sheldon Kopp on Education, from Even a Stone Can be a Teacher & Hairball fushigi*<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today's book blog is a bit of cheat. It relates to books — it's not <i>that</i> kind of cheat. No, the cheat is that I'm doing this on an old long ago read book instead of blogging book reviews of the two books I've recently finished — <i>Noam Chomsky: A Philosophic Overview</i> by Justin Leiber and <i>Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism</i> by Naomi Klein. I've been writing the review of the former, but haven't finished it yet. I just finished the latter, and it has left me bereft of a coherent review at this time: I'm still mulling over this powerful and very sad book.<br />
<br />
No, the cheat was prompted by my friend BH with whom I have been coming to know creatively in the last few months since we have begun exploring the meaning of dreams as they relate to the expression of personal creativity. During the course of our discussions I have suggested to BH that she seriously overestimates the significance and importance of formal education. We have been discussing how creativity can get boxed in by the perceived requirements of formal schooling. I point out that that the thinkers and social critics I most respect have all unequivocally castigated formal education, even though all of them were in fact well educated.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1xFX81WvckjFTo-8TCWva7G4g7UZrbJN-cD6H0Gk4mWO7KLWo15BI86963B_xjN-rTWbE-tWosP6KzXwXoBuGz1-xCbrh_5v2_c_KBN86B1-AFcq78AnmH9NY5BJq-m6IAkihem2QD_Y/s1600/EducatingRita.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="177" width="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt1xFX81WvckjFTo-8TCWva7G4g7UZrbJN-cD6H0Gk4mWO7KLWo15BI86963B_xjN-rTWbE-tWosP6KzXwXoBuGz1-xCbrh_5v2_c_KBN86B1-AFcq78AnmH9NY5BJq-m6IAkihem2QD_Y/s320/EducatingRita.png" /></a></div><br />
Isn't that an odd conundrum or <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catch-22" target="_blank">Catch-22</a>? That reminds me of the movie <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0085478/" target="_blank">Educating Rita</a>. Rita doesn't understand that her desire to be educated is a fool's path, despite her professor of English expressing his concerns about it — and being himself a drunken fool.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I have been, with hit-and-miss consistency, noting anti-education quotations over the last fifteen years or so. I told BH that I'd send her some. This I began to do tonight. Then I thought that some of them are quite likely worth sharing with a larger audience because they are sometimes very funny as well as meaningful. This I also decided to do, hence this blog 'cheat' because my first clutch of quotes comes from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sheldon_Kopp" target="_blank">Sheldon Kopp</a>. After I thought of doing this, I realized with bemusement that my doing so moves me outside of my 'box' of creativity that I'd comfortably stuffed this book blog into. I chuckle at the thought of BH's reaction to how its metaphorical structure echos our discussions!<br />
<br />
And as I wrote that the strangest of <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigis</i></a> exploded in my face. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laurie_Brown_(broadcaster)" target="_blank">Laurie Brown</a>, the <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/radio2/" target="_blank">CBC Radio2</a> host of <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/radio2/thesignal/" target="_blank">The Signal</a> tells the following story:</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">… We all know people that talk a lot about themselves. All the time. … But I do know somebody who [talks about herself] all the time. And I remember at a party, she was talking to my father over in the corner. And she was telling him <i>ALL</i> about her hair, and the problems she's had with her hair, and this new hair cut and blah blah blah. And then she said to him at one point, 'Oh! But enough of me talking. Tell me, what do <i>you</i> think about my hair?' (The Signal Podcast <a href="http://podcast.cbc.ca/radio2/thesignal/thesignal_2011-07-21.mp3" target="_blank">#53 11.07.21</a> @ 18:29).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What makes this a <i>fushigi</i> is that when BH and I started talking about dreams she also described that her hair had begun to fall out. I suggested that she may find it interesting to see if her dreams might help stop her hair from falling out.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzT8I-OhL1HAvNIuz8RKcPQi1KBW0z-OOjlRbtmhr8hA9x63Y-MY1IBR4QKKyUZFdJfFwNILpvx9ThG-0HtHqQ8GfwOIPcJtMcCNfa1j7JkX8UEnNfF2VwnG3viOYLMAI68DlMO9aB9QwY/s1600/EvenAStoneCanBeATeacher.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzT8I-OhL1HAvNIuz8RKcPQi1KBW0z-OOjlRbtmhr8hA9x63Y-MY1IBR4QKKyUZFdJfFwNILpvx9ThG-0HtHqQ8GfwOIPcJtMcCNfa1j7JkX8UEnNfF2VwnG3viOYLMAI68DlMO9aB9QwY/s320/EvenAStoneCanBeATeacher.png" /></a></div><br />
So, over the next few weeks, I will be posting old stuff read as it pertains to the value (or not), of formal education. As mentioned, here is Sheldon Kopp, from <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/613438.Even_a_Stone_Can_Be_a_Teacher" target="_blank">Even a Stone Can Be a Teacher:</a></span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<br />
<br />
I hate having wasted more than twenty years going to school. Formal education left me little of personal value other than elementary language skills and professional credentials. Much of what was taught cluttered my mind with irrelevant information. Arbitrary injunctions inhibited my imagination in efforts to learn anything new and different.<br />
<br />
Families raise children in conformity with the conventional wisdom of their communal culture. Years of formal schooling funnel individual diversity into the same narrow channel. The intended outcome is a well-adjusted adult who will not make trouble.<br />
<br />
In school I always felt inadequate. I was bright enough to master assigned studies, but what I was learning made no sense to me. Unaware of alternate courses of unbounded study, it took me a long time to undertake a solitary search for the particular meaning of my personal life. The uncharted explorations of this independent voyage of self-discovery involved avoiding regular routes and scrapping scheduled stopovers. In the absence of an assigned curriculum, answers offered by my earlier education were often useless.<br />
<br />
Once I gave up pursuing the predicted proof of explanations imposed by others, unexpectedly I happened on intuitive understandings. This encouraged my voluntary suspension of disbelief in all that till then I had been taught to ignore. The immediacy of my own imagination turned out to be the most reliable touchstone for what was worth learning. It served me better than reality agreed on in advance by other people. To my delight, I discovered that openness to the undetermined meaning of each individual moment transformed ordinary external events into extraordinary personal experiences.<br />
<br />
In an extended adolescence, the alternate routes I explored included doing dope while hanging out in Harlem jazz joints and Greenwich Village coffee houses. I spent much of my time either alone or in the company of other misfits. Fascinated by the seedy underside of life, I lost my emotional virginity by screwing around with hipsters, hustlers, beats, and any other characters queer enough to be cited by the community as crazy or criminal.<br />
<br />
As a young adult I began listening to songs and stories form long ago times and faraway places. Hearing strange voices awakened my ears to the sounds of everyday life. Seeing shapes and colours of statues and painting opened my eyes wide enough to watch the drama and dance performed both in the theatre and on the city streets.<br />
<br />
Eventually I explored land- and seascapes raw enough to shake the foundations of my urban upbringing. Summers spent on North Atlantic capes and offshore islands began a lifelong romance with the sea. Wanderings alone along empty beaches, I picked up shells and pebbles. Attending to each one individually allowed instruction by a single stone unique even among a million others.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQdqMVvj6UZLV-Li6xTL7h1urHLdHhwSBjilczVpe6YeWKYyizPY6F1X733K0vN__NrU_wmwYzOz1rr5Lj5JCJVTgdF_f875cpELLgbL5S1wC1d7KwQAmEdYqn2I7KBL4V513QrKABvUZ/s1600/Yantra.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQdqMVvj6UZLV-Li6xTL7h1urHLdHhwSBjilczVpe6YeWKYyizPY6F1X733K0vN__NrU_wmwYzOz1rr5Lj5JCJVTgdF_f875cpELLgbL5S1wC1d7KwQAmEdYqn2I7KBL4V513QrKABvUZ/s320/Yantra.png" /></a></div>Late in life, I set out on more organized alternate paths. I entered psychotherapy as a patient, participated in encounter groups, and underwent instruction in yoga meditation. For a time, I chanted <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mantra" target="_blank">mantras</a>, visualized <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yantra" target="_blank"><i>yantras</i></a>, and tried <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tantra" target="_blank"><i>tantras</i></a>. I gave up these practices only after recognizing that life itself was to be my guru.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFS370-S6m3p0QELIqrckhq27LFhFUsFAGrAG-tB2GxGdBLscmCif_cIi4JfwfIT7Y4Q8tgyMOKA69EKb12J6HLehmb_xsLN1mTeviGOq7R7agrymihMp0_9EoaHhn3EWyp0DF2eYNE9W/s1600/BodhiTantra.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="199" width="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFS370-S6m3p0QELIqrckhq27LFhFUsFAGrAG-tB2GxGdBLscmCif_cIi4JfwfIT7Y4Q8tgyMOKA69EKb12J6HLehmb_xsLN1mTeviGOq7R7agrymihMp0_9EoaHhn3EWyp0DF2eYNE9W/s320/BodhiTantra.png" /></a></div>Once having restored a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shoshin" target="_blank">beginner's mind</a>, I found that almost anything I encountered extended my education. <i>Avoidance of social contacts empty of personal meaning left the unfilled space of solitude equivalent to touching moments of contact with a few close friends.</i> The mirages of marriage opened onto oases of domestic intimacy. Raising irreverent children kept life lively. Working as a psychotherapist, supervisor, and writer also allowed continuing the lifelong work on my Self. Ironically, often I am both the best therapist/teacher and the worst patient/student I have ever had.<br />
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...<br />
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A tale is told of an Indian holy man who lived in a forest with his disciples. He taught them to see God in all things. One day, while deep in the forest gathering wood for a sacrificial fire, the disciples heard a voice of shouting: "Out of the way! Out of the way! A mad elephant is coming!" All but one young man ran for their lives. Kneeling in the path of the lumbering beasts, he sang its praises.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObKWtXk6xv9Z4Xsv5ZrSmbfXxAcMJZbjzHx2fV7EAhEYMsbLs5uAEGnohp96uH8wmX4MHMhFbKsqFF5VFQkRSjipwWNI4NNlxz7rnFzWrbDYf5sxyJvc_y-yFSNiTdpPdX-asRbOTrc4J/s1600/ElephantMahout.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjObKWtXk6xv9Z4Xsv5ZrSmbfXxAcMJZbjzHx2fV7EAhEYMsbLs5uAEGnohp96uH8wmX4MHMhFbKsqFF5VFQkRSjipwWNI4NNlxz7rnFzWrbDYf5sxyJvc_y-yFSNiTdpPdX-asRbOTrc4J/s320/ElephantMahout.png" /></a></div>The mahout who drove the elephant screamed at him to run away, but the disciple would not budge. Seizing the stubborn student with its trunk, the elephant tossed him aside and charged on down the forest path. Bruised and unconscious he had to be carried on back to the hermitage by the other disciples.<br />
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When he began to recover, the injured young man was asked by his teacher why he had not run from the charging elephant. The battered disciple protested: "You taught us that all creatures are manifestations of God. Why should I have made way for that elephant? I am God. The elephant is God. Should God be afraid of God?"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDzpfwcrxjsK2odoLykIzP6RIIgO9fTn0w7an-ydaPnC1YfWoiKfGlRUeNZj6KCcW_093l2PMGO8VPD5NJ7UT01dFEoHoerJccFO79wLpy1hZgXpTG2OmCtVWAfEEnB06IBSTJteX1Qrs/s1600/HolyMan.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:.1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="183" width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLDzpfwcrxjsK2odoLykIzP6RIIgO9fTn0w7an-ydaPnC1YfWoiKfGlRUeNZj6KCcW_093l2PMGO8VPD5NJ7UT01dFEoHoerJccFO79wLpy1hZgXpTG2OmCtVWAfEEnB06IBSTJteX1Qrs/s320/HolyMan.png" /></a></div><br />
The holy man smiled. Speaking softly, he said. "Yes, my child, it is true that you are God and that the elephant is also God. But why did you not listen when God's voice called out from the mahout telling you to run away?"<br />
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[This story reminds me, of course, of the joke about the devout Christian who refused to leave his flood-threatened house. After drowning and going to heaven, he asked Gabriel why God hadn't saved him from the flood. Gabriel replied 'Why do you think that? God sent you the emergency rescue team, the people in the boat and finally a helicopter.']<blockquote>Kopp, Sheldon. <i>Even a Stone Can Be a Teacher: Learning and Growing from the Experiences of Everyday Life.</i> Los Angeles: J.P. Tarcher, Inc., 1985, p vii-x.</blockquote></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><i><b>Addendum 2012.01.31:</b></i><br />
One of Betty's dreams was that she was in an elevator pushing the numbers, with the #7 standing out for some reason. That evening I read Al's blog post <a href="http://pensanderasers.blogspot.com/2012/01/oops.html" target="_blank">Oops</a> from January 26th. In it she wrote:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sorry, this is a pretty lame post tonight. I did have a strange dream last night. Anyone ever had a dream about a certain number being repeated over and over in the background of your dreams? It was super annoying. I had a dream about going to the gallows...I've got to stop reading <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Tale_of_Two_Cities" target="_blank"><i>A Tale of Two Cities</i></a> before I go to bed...wait, wasn't that a guillotine?</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Not sure if it counts, but I found it an amusing <i>tiny</i> <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/p/fushigi-wtf.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a>.<br />
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<b><i>Addendum #2 2012.02.11:</i></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLE8n6RjS0vdUSAg23bvTFjKtcFMOna1xxVikgWXPPdMa-H45ct8Giw6UjonRYQbvrfxBVtLceKGzZTYnnJVcXCrWGmn-CEpCmBS4JISqD0IXrggBV-BG0N8DMMF-XB1Ua-8f02QnkWw0/s1600/Hereafter.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left; margin-right:.1em; margin-bottom:/1em"><img border="0" height="152" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXLE8n6RjS0vdUSAg23bvTFjKtcFMOna1xxVikgWXPPdMa-H45ct8Giw6UjonRYQbvrfxBVtLceKGzZTYnnJVcXCrWGmn-CEpCmBS4JISqD0IXrggBV-BG0N8DMMF-XB1Ua-8f02QnkWw0/s320/Hereafter.png" /></a></div>Today, after running around doing grocery shopping and other car related chores, I got home to a late lunch / early supper with my wife. She turned on the TV and flipped around until she saw Matt Damon on the screen. We began to watch the movie, which I'd not seen before. She said she had, and that it was odd but okay/good. The movie was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hereafter_(film)" target="_blank">Hereafter</a> directed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clint_Eastwood" target="_blank">Clint Eastwood</a>. What created the <i>fushigi</i> link was the young boy, Marcus: in the movie, shortly after we began watching it — we tuned into it about 40 minutes in, I think — stumbles into a YouTube video of eastern mysticism or philosophy. Which i also did, yesterday, for my very first time, when I was editing this blog to include links and images. Specifically, my search for the Zen concept 'Beginner's Mind' took me to a <a href="http://youtu.be/QCOVusLqXmk" target="_blank">YouTube video narrated by the actor Peter Coyote</a>. To my surprise I actually felt surprise that philosophy / spiritual lectures would be YouTubed. So I was very amused to see the boy duplicate, in effect, my first time experiences with such a thing.<br />
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<b><i>Addendum #3 2012.02.11:</i></b><br />
This morning I was amused by another <i>fushigi-ish</i> thing, which came via a piece of e.mail spam that made it through my corporate e.mail system. Here it is:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Subject: Deal-<i><b>mantra</b></i>: New Deal:<br />
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…<br />
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Description<br />
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Spent all your money in buying gift for your sweetie? Trying to hide your old watch from her? Relax! Give your watch a makeover by buying new inexpensive watch bracelet for just $12.50 at Murdoch Jewellers. Whether you want to give illusion of an expensive gold watch with a gold-plated one or you like stainless steel, choice is yours but you need to rush as only limited quantities available. Spend the money savings by taking her for a romantic dinner. She will adore you for that. So panic time is over and it’s time to wear a thinking hat to plan how you two would indulge in after-dinner fun.<br />
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<br />
Thank you for agreeing to receive promotional and product-related emails from www.deal-<i><b>mantra</b></i>.com. To keep the emails coming, please add subscribe@deal-mantra.com to your address book or safe list now. If you no longer wish to receive future emails, please click here to unsubscribe.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yesterday I edit this blog to include a link to 'mantra' and today I get a spammer e.mail with 'mantra' in the subject line from a mantra dot com site. Weird.<br />
</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-41788928030112593102011-12-31T00:57:00.000-08:002012-12-15T20:51:26.797-08:002011.12.30 — I Ching, Chomsky, Poetry, C.G. Jung, and R2's The Signal[, and Barrack Obama] — a fushigi* Collection.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today's <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/began-rainbow-rising-from-stream-by.html"><i>*fushigi</i></a> collection began over a week ago when I began struggling to write a poem in response to a visual prompt supplied by <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Mary-Boehm/e/B0046UZYFG/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1" target="_blank">Rose Mary Boehm</a> at <a href="" target="_blank">Houseboat</a>, the Photo/Poetical blog RMB is moderating — and which I am extremely happy and surprised to be a part of.<br />
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As the poem evolved I decided that I required something from the Chinese book of Changes, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Ching" target="_blank"><i>The I Ching</i></a>. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmKbeyTrO7VeocTIZMoMQhlVLUrgHxux0zsm8vYb5ANVVE_0HFpyaxUMMBW1pTPRYSIQlK7vm2mUPCZ1dYz7svKJdhV3nmskE3CdNZzsP4zEChhF0LpowO0GK1J5UbKYEZJD_QMFaehEdS/s1600/I+Ching.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmKbeyTrO7VeocTIZMoMQhlVLUrgHxux0zsm8vYb5ANVVE_0HFpyaxUMMBW1pTPRYSIQlK7vm2mUPCZ1dYz7svKJdhV3nmskE3CdNZzsP4zEChhF0LpowO0GK1J5UbKYEZJD_QMFaehEdS/s320/I+Ching.png" /></a></div>I grabbed my copy of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Wilhelm" target="_blank">Richard Wilhelm</a> / Cary F. Baynes <a href="http://press.princeton.edu/titles/92.html" target="_blank">Princeton University Press</a> edition and flipped it open at random to see what came out. I was disappointed, initially, to see that my random flip had put me outside the hexagram readings and inside the section called <i>Ta Chuan</i> / The Great Treatise. However, what I read there could not have been more on point to complete the poem <b><i>and</i></b> tie in with what I was reading in <a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/Noam_Chomsky.html?id=Q8FoAAAAIAAJ&redir_esc=y" target="_blank"><i>Noam Chomsky: A Philosophic Overview</i></a> by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Justin_Leiber" target="_blank">Justin Leiber</a>. <br />
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This is what I read from <i>The I Ching</i>:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2. The Master said: <i>Writing cannot express words completely. Words cannot express thoughts completely.</i><br />
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Are we then unable to see the thoughts of the holy sages?<br />
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The Master said: The holy sages set up the images in order to express their thoughts completely; they devised the hexagrams in order to express the true and the false completely. Then they apprehended judgments and so could express their words completely.<br />
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(They created change and continuity, to show the advantage completely; they urged on, they set in motion, to set forth the spirit completely.) (pg 322)</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I've emphasized the bit I incorporated into the poem. After undergoing the group's critical eye, and being severely pared down, it evolved into a piece of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flash_prose" target="_blank"><i>flash prose</i></a> that I titled <b>What Cannot be Expressed</b>:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Far from urbane strictures, while passing through yet another distant land, I paused, stopped reading, marked my page. Unexpectedly I remembered the day that I read 'live life as a tourist' on the bumper sticker of a rusted VW van in rain. I was a young man then and, because I could read, I thought I understood. And when I became that well-booked tourist I thought I was happy.<br />
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The bus slowed at a corner crowded with raggedly-dressed ebullient villagers. Behind them my word-drunk eyes mistook the makeshift grain bag windbreak as a soiled deconstructed yin-yang art-piece. I laughed at how easily the eye is fooled by false appearance and because the book in my hands was the <i>I Ching</i>. With a bemused shake of my head at this odd coincidence I returned to the book, where I read <i>Writing cannot express words completely. Words cannot express thoughts completely.</i><br />
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At that moment the stony weight of verbiage I had made myself blind to left my heart and in an animal panic I pushed my way past the press of shoulders and jabs of elbows. With my hands grasping my mouth and books I stumbled down the bus's step-well and crashed though the rickety doors to splash down on the rain-soaked earth.<br />
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Now silent, the villagers' heads turned and their eyes watched my hands flail uselessly as my body wordlessly heaved its stomach into the muck.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The idea of the problem of words not containing the 'real' meaning of existence was the point I was making in the poem, of course. This is not an unfamiliar theme with me, as both <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lao_Tzu" target="_blank">Lao Tzu</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chuang_Tzu" target="_blank">Chuang Tzu</a> discuss this problem. However, I did <i>not</i> think of going to them when I wanted to include a quotation, which is whom I normally would go to. For some reason the manner which I thought of the photo as a deconstructed 'yin-yang' symbol nudged me towards <i>The I Ching</i>,<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nWIJo27IvuhHxuhjs5NYknuaTtK9GS-_C3H2tl67VDA33TYXiqT0UXj73Kg0MrOipsN0OiymiLn0Vw35O73UH13w6C3XKYlKvkJy7Wydr_y8wUtBZCIASfFJoYrqTH2BFsA1QljCipR5/s1600/yin-yang+symbol.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="165" width="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nWIJo27IvuhHxuhjs5NYknuaTtK9GS-_C3H2tl67VDA33TYXiqT0UXj73Kg0MrOipsN0OiymiLn0Vw35O73UH13w6C3XKYlKvkJy7Wydr_y8wUtBZCIASfFJoYrqTH2BFsA1QljCipR5/s320/yin-yang+symbol.png" /></a></div>which is where I went, this time. And proceeded to flip open to that exact page on which was exactly what I was writing about. Curious.<br />
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But now here is where things become curiously <i>fushigi</i>. And, I apologize for what is to follow because it is a rather complex discussion on philosophical issues of language. But one that is truly fascinating, <i>and</i> makes for a very subtle <i>fushigi</i>.<br />
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Long after I'd started writing <i>What Cannot be Expressed</i>, but in the morning before flipping to <i>The I Ching</i> I was continuing to read with great fascination Leiber's description of the problems and proposals in <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7KpA-P3bfjLThGrgG6CuHwRPMZ6yMhPF-wgIyNLDnH48PUtPSm_-KKpL5BvivG05V_PDB1dOcd1-YRazZQVIbpJaHa7GIfxHp-88HFzH5NG7N1caGEQTvdEJgU-s6qhnnBIBQ7h5GsJw/s1600/Leiber%2527s+Chomsky001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil7KpA-P3bfjLThGrgG6CuHwRPMZ6yMhPF-wgIyNLDnH48PUtPSm_-KKpL5BvivG05V_PDB1dOcd1-YRazZQVIbpJaHa7GIfxHp-88HFzH5NG7N1caGEQTvdEJgU-s6qhnnBIBQ7h5GsJw/s320/Leiber%2527s+Chomsky001.jpg" /></a></div>establishing what would constitute a universal language generation mechanism, basically an effort to address how humans can learn language let alone learn how to speak. (It is not an exaggeration to say that Chomsky's effect in revolutionizing the philosophical science of linguistics was at the same scale as Einstein's effect on physics: it was forever changed.) What Chomsky proved was that a list of all the words and all the sentences of a language cannot describe how a language works because meaningful sentence generation is infinite and so cannot be captured by any list. The consequence of this, which is still being argued by some die-hard empiricists, is that an empirical study of language-constituents will be inadequate to explain the language. Chomsky has argued that <i>meaning</i>, called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Semantics" target="_blank">semantics</a> by linguists, plays an important, perhaps even pre-verbal role, which he assigned to something called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deep_structure" target="_blank">deep structure</a>. Without quite saying it, at least in Leiber's overview of Chomsky's work, Chomsky is saying that meaning pre-exists words, and words pre-exist sentences.<br />
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Wow, when I write it out like that, there would appear to be virtually no significant difference between what the Chinese Master said about language 2500 years ago and Chomsky is saying today! <br />
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But to solidify the <i>fushigi</i> here is what I read that morning, and even flagged with a little sticky note on which I wrote <i>A[nswer]: because the 'deep structure' is preverbal</i>. What was I <i>answering</i>? A series of questions Leiber posed on behalf of those hoping to keep language empiricists alive by arguing that Chomsky is incorrect. Paraphrased, they argue that within deep structure meaning and syntax are synonymous, and as such if the right syntactical form can be discovered there a natural language generating mechanism capable of creating meaningful sentences will have been ascertained. Anyway, here's the paragraph. I have italicized the particular questions my sticky note was addressing:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The general thrust of the generative-semanticist proposal for improving transformational grammar is very simple: if some semantic features of sentences can be specified in their syntactical deep structure why can not all such features be specified? <i>Why split the syntactic and semantic components at all? Why not equate ultimate syntactic deep structure with semantic representation? Or, more speculatively, one can ask, why not take the system of semantic representation to be something like the familiar predicate logic (with perhaps a few additions), and the base to be such a system supplemented with a relatively small number of "atomic predicates," or semantic primitives, universal to human thought?</i> The words of particular languages, just as their surface syntactical structures, would decompose into extremely abstract and complex syntactic-semantical deep structures; the features constituting the lexical-syntactical peculiarities of a language would be given as a series of transformations relating the syntactic-semantical deep structures (or "natural logic formulas") of the "universal base" to their particular realizations in the language in question, similarly for the peculiarities of other human languages (122). </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Like I said, complex language to argue that syntax might be enough to create a language if it is at a 'deep' enough level in the 'deep structure' of what ever it is in being human creates language. (Does not that sound very much like Jung's idea of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Collective_unconscious" target="_blank">collective unconscious</a> — which Jung argues is preverbal or even non-verbal and is expressed in archetypes that struggle to express their meaning in dreams and stories?)<br />
<br />
Well, that is the main <i>fushigi</i>, but another one cropped up that I'll throw in. It began yesterday, when I used Photoshop Elements — which I almost never use because it is counter-intuitive to me — to play around with my poem version of <b>What Cannot be Expressed</b> and Rose's photo. After playing with it for an hour or two, I came away dissatisfied with the result, as was RMB. But here's what I did:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipiHGuf_qvYkmGfphWyL15H3U8CSSrwDyef3jWuZ6TCsQyDxqxTDflGS9JWB-RjVDFNgE56i8UcNVPx1lqECrJrj_g7UBbn4rCz6oRNvgWFpLhk6-wHz0CmoKbQxDAjgsczI8lmU5u1mo-/s1600/What+Cannot+Be+Expressed.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipiHGuf_qvYkmGfphWyL15H3U8CSSrwDyef3jWuZ6TCsQyDxqxTDflGS9JWB-RjVDFNgE56i8UcNVPx1lqECrJrj_g7UBbn4rCz6oRNvgWFpLhk6-wHz0CmoKbQxDAjgsczI8lmU5u1mo-/s400/What+Cannot+Be+Expressed.png" width="400" /></a></div>I think I could have refined it using individual pixel adjustments to make it more readable, but I don't really have the time for it. Today, while I was preparing to do this blog, I went to the Houseboat blog to get links and text and was suddenly struck by something very, very peculiar. I re-read RMB's excellent poem, <b>Magic Markers</b> on <a href="http://houseboathouse.blogspot.com/2011/12/fascinating-how-each-picture-inspires.html" target="_blank">Houseboat</a>, and noticed, now, something <i>fushigi-ish</i> with the poem's title and how it closes:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<br />
Wondrous transformation:<br />
sackcloth and ashes<br />
become precious lace<br />
with the help of magic markers.</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">What stood out this time,when I read <b>Magic Markers</b>, is how it connects to the font with which I chose to use in my overlay onto the photo.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQz4dhLkWRZ0JSbxTApPj69Pvh7eQ9AOwVUgHU1bETpvp1RS0JlcMZhxTSiTQ2y7GK_sfux3snCaFIHAUz8cHXv_rZ6KFeTQA__pN-RA92QZP7pkdqKxdw6MCKZkyRC2BotU_JlOS-3NMT/s1600/Photoshop-Fonts.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.5em"><img border="0" height="204" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQz4dhLkWRZ0JSbxTApPj69Pvh7eQ9AOwVUgHU1bETpvp1RS0JlcMZhxTSiTQ2y7GK_sfux3snCaFIHAUz8cHXv_rZ6KFeTQA__pN-RA92QZP7pkdqKxdw6MCKZkyRC2BotU_JlOS-3NMT/s320/Photoshop-Fonts.png" /></a></div>The font I used is … can you guess? <b>Marker Felt</b>, which I picked from over a hundred available fonts.<br />
<br />
To close on an even more peculiar note: last night, as I was beginning <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtf9W7hT_a2NaNIRFBoHWO9KkQsO2fjnCxdyYbXjgCa7abXruSBc9FXXDD6TPw_X0u-6NqcyZZvilWfRYD5-PMQpI3pnm4IebLksrq3JuQtSBzP43ajKeP1VDbTcuPy0ySBSyxl0j84vd/s1600/CBCR2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="98" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtf9W7hT_a2NaNIRFBoHWO9KkQsO2fjnCxdyYbXjgCa7abXruSBc9FXXDD6TPw_X0u-6NqcyZZvilWfRYD5-PMQpI3pnm4IebLksrq3JuQtSBzP43ajKeP1VDbTcuPy0ySBSyxl0j84vd/s320/CBCR2.png" /></a></div>to work on this blog, I turned on <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/radio2/thesignal/" target="_blank">CBC R2's The Signal</a>, with Laurie Brown. And typical of me when I'm working, the music is more background entertainment than the locus of my attention. (If a particular song or artist grabs me, then I will concentrate). At some point, I guess about half way through the show, Brown began talking about one of the artists. I didn't pay attention until she commented that the composer stated in an interview <i>that the last person to ask about what their music means is the composer. That is for others to decide.</i><br />
<br />
Well, a few days ago I picked up and looked through one of my latest and most delectable book finds: Volume 15 of the Collected Works <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBm9NVCSCAcGt67ZRb7SNwd1NL4C7gp-IEdFPcVYK8VrrTvFcIAhyD2SoyjYevd4EtzojBP_zU72OYvtV3R-gQPLJCwLaco_5NIlq5ImFgiFEOjFJ_BNDZH_uyezFBNgn_Ngzzcon39GJX/s1600/Jung-Vol15001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBm9NVCSCAcGt67ZRb7SNwd1NL4C7gp-IEdFPcVYK8VrrTvFcIAhyD2SoyjYevd4EtzojBP_zU72OYvtV3R-gQPLJCwLaco_5NIlq5ImFgiFEOjFJ_BNDZH_uyezFBNgn_Ngzzcon39GJX/s320/Jung-Vol15001.jpg" /></a></div>of C.G. Jung, <a href="http://press.princeton.edu/titles/704.html" target="_blank"><i>The Spirit in Man, Art, and Literature</i></a>, and found an amusing little comment he'd made about poets. I was amused initially because of my participation with the Boathouse/Houseboat poetry group, and our critiquing each others poems as to their structure, impact, meaning, etc.</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Poets are human too, and what they say about their work is often far from being the best word on the subject. It seems we have to defend the seriousness of the visionary experience against the personal resistance of the poets themselves (p.94). </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<br />
<b><i>Fushigi</i> Addendum 2012.01.01.</b><br />
RMB today sent me a link to an announcement that there is an immanent paradigm shift in how the world's economy is going to be managed because of an expanding spiritual awareness on the part of our economic and political leaders. <a href="http://www.cmn.tv/news/new-world-currency/" target="_blank">A New Global Economic Restructuring</a> is an announcement presented by James Martinez of recent recognition by some important economic and business people that if humans are to survive they cannot continue to do what they are doing. During the somewhat disjointed discourse my ears picked up when I heard him say, citing President Obama, <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi3aIA7tfsUIkwCIueIUbW0TMNXZbDEWO5v6WRxRVrJ5X5YNSKd7Rg_LU9B9rb6k5Z8o7P2x1Gj0e-HMrS-bfVAPareqjBpi2EuOUTuRt9hIqTGVl2C77_PlJ3uPZxCtPGlB4YSBU1DV4/s1600/Obama.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="254" width="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi3aIA7tfsUIkwCIueIUbW0TMNXZbDEWO5v6WRxRVrJ5X5YNSKd7Rg_LU9B9rb6k5Z8o7P2x1Gj0e-HMrS-bfVAPareqjBpi2EuOUTuRt9hIqTGVl2C77_PlJ3uPZxCtPGlB4YSBU1DV4/s320/Obama.png" /></a></div><i> … And that theory fits well on a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></i><b>bumper sticker</b><i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. But here's the problem: It doesn't work. It has never worked. It didn't work when it was tried…'</i> Funny, that, because that is what my poem was about, from a personal spiritual level and used <i><b>bumper sticker</b></i> in the exact same way: as being too small to contain real wisdom, but which was acted on as if true.<br />
<br />
It is bemusing that Obama was cited in a delivery that was given in the context of a spiritually motivated human change in economic behaviour. And, even funnier, is that this quotation comes from the Osawatomie speech given by <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/dec/07/full-text-barack-obama-speech" target="_blank">Barrack Obama December 7, 2011</a>, in which he avers that <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reaganomics" target="_blank">Reagonomics</a> a là <a hef="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milton_Friedman" target="_blank">Milton Friedman</a> is wrong.<br />
<br />
Thank you, RMB, for helping to initiate and cap off a truly bizarre collection of <i>fushigis</i>.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-58430039247664407982011-12-12T20:43:00.000-08:002011-12-13T19:37:42.478-08:002011.12.11 - Waiting for Godot — Finished 2011.11.21<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwe_UZR0Ej-iUBPG4pcdvAH_vn5ds4_BRBbMZz-TqTUHkmMwwuD4qLvU4y2lkCyKIpRS4Ues0iUaxnXfNJz6PJnW00_Wxjqp4ja5DUnQfqr6zczgYwAUo5WNg3dLcI9roLbLpSZrcVHg46/s1600/WaitingForGodot.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.11em"><img border="0" height="318" width="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwe_UZR0Ej-iUBPG4pcdvAH_vn5ds4_BRBbMZz-TqTUHkmMwwuD4qLvU4y2lkCyKIpRS4Ues0iUaxnXfNJz6PJnW00_Wxjqp4ja5DUnQfqr6zczgYwAUo5WNg3dLcI9roLbLpSZrcVHg46/s320/WaitingForGodot.png" /></a></div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Beckett">Samuel Beckett</a>.<br />
<a href="http://www.groveatlantic.com/#page=isbn9780802144423%20"><i>Waiting for Godot: A Tragicomedy in Two Acts</i></a>.<br />
New York: Grove Press, Inc. 1954. [Now <a href="http://www.groveatlantic.com/#page=infogrove">Grove/Atlantic</a>: ISBN 978-0-8021-4442-3.]<br />
<br />
I am struggling to begin this review. But, before I do, <i>WfG</i> gets from me a solid ★★★★★ out of ☆☆☆☆☆. In fact, it was so good that as soon as I finished it the first time, I promptly re-read it.<br />
<br />
My struggle is between being too glib: "This is a brilliant metaphor for the condition our human condition has conditioned us to unconditionally accept" — to being too dismissive, such as was expressed by a co-worker who, upon learning I was reading <i>Godot</i>, said "I watched it on TV. It was great! A great play about <i>nothing</i>." Now I suspect that because he reacted to 'nothing' so strongly that his unconscious did not in anyway find it to be empty.<br />
<br />
And so it, is, that despite an ostensible appearance that it is about nothing, nothing is further from the truth. <i>WfG</i> is definitely <i>not</i> about nothing. The metaphors are nearly endless, <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFCS3ZeZGrkTyXB_8JDb3_kYtEy66KYRzcQ0-uPyBnNk32csQMjnKSL9gZiriVv1hlwyDINx_GG5seWy_poayK0nD7YZtCOhF5mMT5k2dTSfZAdx6drzc3Xf08sizW39m75NkNGqmFzi-/s1600/WaitingForGodot-Shoes.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="160" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFCS3ZeZGrkTyXB_8JDb3_kYtEy66KYRzcQ0-uPyBnNk32csQMjnKSL9gZiriVv1hlwyDINx_GG5seWy_poayK0nD7YZtCOhF5mMT5k2dTSfZAdx6drzc3Xf08sizW39m75NkNGqmFzi-/s320/WaitingForGodot-Shoes.png" /></a></div>from the simple ones such as the too small boots pinching the feet — constricted understanding hobbles psychological/emotional movement. Beckett even extends that to include putting on another's boots in the hopes of acquiring the ability to walk with less discomfort, metaphor for putting on another's ideas.<br />
<br />
I haven't gone onto the web to search for the likely endless reams of ideas this play has generated. Nor do I want to do a review of the play, as such. Instead I would like to briefly concentrate on the character <i>Lucky</i>. <b>[Note: I will discuss this role in some detail, so if you want to be surprised by Lucky in the play, do not read on before reading the play.]</b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoa6KElb8EIbGh6F43bqk1wgwGu6TGkWGjAKMrNcAyDjTvHDJAW097KdAhgKMWxVmo_jIEz5SNkR89cWh8_0M9p-XXCZP0zigVrwplJr6scU-k_vm9NyGXCQyuY5HJY9z4rfyuFNifWUJn/s1600/WaitingForGodot-Lucky.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="161" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoa6KElb8EIbGh6F43bqk1wgwGu6TGkWGjAKMrNcAyDjTvHDJAW097KdAhgKMWxVmo_jIEz5SNkR89cWh8_0M9p-XXCZP0zigVrwplJr6scU-k_vm9NyGXCQyuY5HJY9z4rfyuFNifWUJn/s320/WaitingForGodot-Lucky.png" /></a></div>Lucky comes onto the stage with a noose around his neck carrying a collection of stuff. The end of the rope extends out of sight, off stage, making Pozzo, Lucky's master, initially invisible. (Is that the smallest of hints of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adam_smithK" target="_blank">Adam Smith's</a> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adam_smith#The_Wealth_of_Nations" target="_blank"><i>Invisible Glove</i></a>?) Pozzo controls Lucky with the use of the noose, via jerks (Lucky has open sores from it), and with a whip and short, usually one word, commands such as the <b><i>On!</b></i> and <b><i>Back!</b></i> that introduce the pair. Later, Pozzo wants to put Lucky's intellectual prowess, specifically his ability to <i>think</i>, on display for Estragon and Vladimir, the pair waiting for Godot:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> Stand back! <i>(Vladimir and Estragon move away from Lucky. Pozzo jerks the rope. Lucky looks at Pozzo.)</i> Think, pig! <i>(Pause. Lucky begins to dance.)</i> Stop! <i>(Lucky stops.)</i> Forward! <i>(Lucky advances.)</i> Stop! <i>(Lucky stops.)</i> Think!<br />
<br />
<i>(Silence.)</i><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099;">LUCKY:</span> On the other hand with regard to—</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">[I blogged this section more extensively as part of a peculiar <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/began-rainbow-rising-from-stream-by.html"><i>fushigi</i></a> @ <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/2011/11/20111118-godot-ballet-pocket-watch.html#blogreview" target="_blank"><i>Godot</i>, Ballet, Pocket Watch & <i>Alice</i></a>.]<br />
<br />
This has particular resonance for me because of a recent employee motivational propaganda campaign I (and at least several thousands of others) were subjected to. It was comprised of a series of 3 posters and their electronic facsimile being festooned across the offices. The posters were comprised of two parts. The top half was a single word, a command: Say, Stay, Strive. The balance were terse reasons for obeying the command, for the last two, and what to say for the first one.<br />
<br />
Less specifically, the extended thinking that Lucky expresses is, of course, a perfect metaphor for what passes <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-uG74HFcAE_8oS7Di1QwO6tynw9TeRBNXiKZXQcSFOk562auL8dSCQ42LYP0B2NJ2SUPt8Z40Bcdjk6NT7VWyadVCcsKfEF0dDCsOGiLmenEdcFox72UACe66lsByp_wUt-DjtbMrP9H/s1600/Orwell-HomageToCatalonia.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-uG74HFcAE_8oS7Di1QwO6tynw9TeRBNXiKZXQcSFOk562auL8dSCQ42LYP0B2NJ2SUPt8Z40Bcdjk6NT7VWyadVCcsKfEF0dDCsOGiLmenEdcFox72UACe66lsByp_wUt-DjtbMrP9H/s320/Orwell-HomageToCatalonia.png" /></a></div>for thinking through the news media and many official journals: a huge pile of impressive sounding phrases that at best hide the truth but at worst promulgate false truths and ideology. And all co-mingled with a curious obsession about sports. [I wonder if Beckett was influenced by some of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_orwell" target="_blank">George Orwell's</a> pointed criticism of the media and much intellectual thought, such as he delineated in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homage_to_Catalonia" target="_blank">Homage to Catalonia</a>? Wikipedia does not reference such a connection.]<br />
<br />
But why does Lucky stay with the physically and verbally abusive Pozzo? He is, ostensibly, a free man. Pozzo even ascribes to him freedom. Well, the answer is an interesting one, and reminds me of the current batch of presidential candidates who blame the poor for being poor because if they didn't want to be poor they could work themselves out of it. Here's Pozzo's reasoning for Lucky's enslavement to him:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span></span> Ah! Why couldn't you say so before? Why he doesn't make himself comfortable? Let's try and get this clear. Has he not the right to? Certainly he has. It follows that he doesn't want to. There's reasoning for you. And why doesn't he want to? <i>(Pause.)</i> Gentlemen, the reason is this.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> <i>(to Estragon)</i>. Make a note of this.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> He wants to impress me, so that I'll keep him.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ESTRAGON:</span> What?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCcu3NAJIeriZUmMKyt23gj982iYNciz8f2FDwgor7ZRal9XtAOzBq15wz6lXyNHJBZgSN3CpbP523yl3McGPfIKHzo6lAJj8e0GkIP8OCNsbvM_1jtZv5FoC2lDlXkRblNLKraPiKt4zx/s1600/WaitingForGodot-PozzoDidiGogo.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="214" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCcu3NAJIeriZUmMKyt23gj982iYNciz8f2FDwgor7ZRal9XtAOzBq15wz6lXyNHJBZgSN3CpbP523yl3McGPfIKHzo6lAJj8e0GkIP8OCNsbvM_1jtZv5FoC2lDlXkRblNLKraPiKt4zx/s320/WaitingForGodot-PozzoDidiGogo.png" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> Perhaps I haven't got it quite right. He wants to mollify me, so that I'll give up the idea of parting with him. No, that's not exactly it either.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> You want to get rid of him?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> He wants to cod me, but he won't.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> You want to get rid of him?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> He imagines that when I see how well he carries I'll be tempted to keep him on in that capacity.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ESTRAGON:</span> You've had enough of him?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> In reality he carries like a pig. It's not his job.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> You want to get rid of him?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> He imagines that when I see him indefatigable I'll regret my decision. Such is his miserable scheme. As though I were short of slaves! <i>(All three look at Lucky.)</i> Atlas, son of Jupiter! <i>(Silence.)</i> Well, that's that, I think. Anything else?<br />
<br />
<i>(Vaporizer.)</i><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> You want to get rid of him?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> Remark that I might just as well have been in his shoes and he in mine. If chance had not willed otherwise. To each one his due.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> You waagerrim?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> I beg your pardon?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> You want to get rid of him?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> I do. But instead of driving him away as I might have done, I mean instead of simply kicking him out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price for him. The truth is you can't drive such creatures away. The best thing would be to kill them.<br />
<br />
<i>(Lucky weeps.)</i><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ESTRAGON:</span> He's crying!<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> Old dogs have more dignity. <i>(He proffers his handkerchief to Estragon.)</i> Comfort him, since you pity him. <i>(Estragon hesitates.)</i> Come on. <i>(Estragon takes the handkerchief.)</i> Wipe away his tears, he'll feel less forsaken.<br />
<br />
<i>(Estragon hesitates.)</i><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">VLADIMIR:</span> Here, give it to me, I'll do it.<br />
<br />
<i>(Estragon refuses to give the handkerchief.)</i><br />
<br />
<i>(Childish gestures.)</i><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> Make haste, before he stops. <i>(Estragon approaches Lucky and makes to wipe his eyes. Lucky kicks him violently in the shins. Estragon drops the handkerchief, recoils, staggers about the stage howling with pain.)</i> Hanky!<br />
<br />
<i>(Lucky puts down bag and basket, picks up handkerchief and gives it to Pozzo, goes back to his place, picks up bag and basket.)</i><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ESTRAGON:</span> Oh the swine! <i>(He pulls up the leg of his trousers.)</i> He's crippled me!<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #660099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">POZZO:</span> I told you he didn't like strangers.<br />
<br />
</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Interesting. Lucky has enslaved himself in order to appease his master, to be <i>liked</i> enough to be seen as worthy by Pozzo.<br />
<br />
So why did Lucky kick Estragon in the shins? As I have been thinking about this, it struck me that Lucky's behaviour corresponds exactly with those who have fully submitted to their lot in life. My first realization of this tickled out from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noam_Chomsky" target="_blank">Noam Chomsky's</a> reference to the 'benevolence' expressed by industrialist and philanthropist <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Andrew_Carnegie" target="_blank">Andrew Carnegie</a> to 'his' workers in 1896:</span><br />
<blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> These are the fruits of the fierce corporate campaign undertaken as soon as American workers finally won the right to organize in the mid-1930s, after long years of bitter struggle and violent repression <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj348okf3W3VqwJXitrZkwdv8EZ5J-gsH_cx9k5qtMnkKo1FYz0qRR7T2XlSpUR55oHMTjO-iO7mELqT7FLrit0ffCgifowVfodyjEU-zucWMRdTlLX65vM90I2wYbuZO7Ke1oA0_1oMqMP/s1600/AndrewCarnegie.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:.1em"><img border="0" height="131" width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj348okf3W3VqwJXitrZkwdv8EZ5J-gsH_cx9k5qtMnkKo1FYz0qRR7T2XlSpUR55oHMTjO-iO7mELqT7FLrit0ffCgifowVfodyjEU-zucWMRdTlLX65vM90I2wYbuZO7Ke1oA0_1oMqMP/s320/AndrewCarnegie.png" /></a></div>unmatched in the industrial world. Perhaps we may even return to the days when the admired philanthropist Andrew Carnegie could preach the virtues of "honest, industrious, self-denying poverty" to the victims of the great depression of 1896, shortly after he had brutally crushed the steel workers union at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Homestead_Strike" target="_blank">Homestead</a>, while announcing that the defeated workers had sent him a wire saying, "Kind master, tell us what you wish us to do and we will do it for you." It was because he knew "how sweet and happy and pure the home of honest poverty is" that Carnegie sympathized with the rich, he explained, meanwhile sharing their grim fate in his lavishly appointed mansions fn37 (37. <a href="http://keywiki.org/index.php/Patricia_Sexton" target="_blank">Sexton, Patricia Cayo</a>. <a href="http://www.westviewpress.com/buy.php?isbn=9780813310633&disc=18" target="_blank"><i>The War on Labor and the Left</i></a> Westview 1991, p83f.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEFFcG_PY4ZZreRwCfFIk6FwzoT-f-DSpvS-Jx5VlFBTikKOe0gV5zy9ZK3rW05oEX2hhGDpQ3fFEuCjylcAdsFMdnte6vXJeHrmsa-7P0bVdWtl5zJBg1wJRwQR3bIIUNe8fziHMR49f/s1600/Year501001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEFFcG_PY4ZZreRwCfFIk6FwzoT-f-DSpvS-Jx5VlFBTikKOe0gV5zy9ZK3rW05oEX2hhGDpQ3fFEuCjylcAdsFMdnte6vXJeHrmsa-7P0bVdWtl5zJBg1wJRwQR3bIIUNe8fziHMR49f/s320/Year501001.jpg" width="103" /></a></div><br />
So a well-ordered society should run, according to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wealth_of_Nations#Book_III:_Of_the_different_Progress_of_Opulence_in_different_Nations" target="_blank">"vile maxim of the masters."</a> (<a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2011/07/20110707-year-501-conquest-continues.html" target="_blank"><i>Year 501: The Conquest Continues</i></a>, pg. 56-7). </span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Eventually, the people brutalized recognize the futility of fighting it, and so beat anyone who might offer them hope as being trouble makers or a threat to the status quo. Social critic and comic <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_maher" target="_blank">Bill Maher</a> makes frequent reference to the American labourer who descries as a kind of evil the benefits European workers get in terms of time off, health, paternal benefits, etc. instead of struggling to achieve them for themselves. <br />
<br />
Similarly, in the movie <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guess_Who%27s_Coming_to_Dinner" target="_blank">Guess Who's Coming for Dinner</a> the parents actively dissuade the interracial couple because there would be trouble for the couple and their parents, too. Freedom roped off with fear.<br />
<br />
Lucky <i>is</i> Estragon and Vladimir. Lucky is enslaved to Pozzo by <i>choice</i> — more specifically having chosen willingly or not to accept the lack of choice — not the rope. Estragon and Vladimir are enslaved to the hope of Godot providing them their direction in life.<br />
<br />
The metaphors are obvious: we make our choices to remain as we are, whether we are societally successful or not, by accepting the situation we find ourselves in by submitting to choices others have made for us, then hoping that abandoning our Selves to those seen or unseen others will bring us succour.<br />
<br />
The challenge, here, is twofold. The courage to see things exactly as they are within ourselves and in the society, and the wisdom to know what can and cannot be changed. I have no idea how either of these things are done.<br />
<br />
This play is endlessly rich in meaning. I would now like to see it, and to produce an amateur production of it — or perhaps a reading. Hmmmm.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6vNxM2_rSOGUye7iATZrH1RCLGU7qRP1wAewLLkZ5BEgBk6iOPrMA9tp79f2nHkHuRqHDEuGU0_6BRCWUjlbaYFbfpLq70ypaexLSpw7VJ26wwK5FpXbKWMhDCSDue-6ZbLrqrw-8r_t/s1600/WaitingForGodot-Tree%2526Moon.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6vNxM2_rSOGUye7iATZrH1RCLGU7qRP1wAewLLkZ5BEgBk6iOPrMA9tp79f2nHkHuRqHDEuGU0_6BRCWUjlbaYFbfpLq70ypaexLSpw7VJ26wwK5FpXbKWMhDCSDue-6ZbLrqrw-8r_t/s320/WaitingForGodot-Tree%2526Moon.png" /></a></div><br />
</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-26272248249976560872011-11-23T22:01:00.000-08:002011-11-26T15:54:37.319-08:002011.11.12 — The Dock Brief & Other Plays by John Mortimer & Two Tiny Fushigi* — finished 2011.10.29<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9BPxlsu2X_9UoGz7amnUor2rtzmId_Tjqw25QIQYQj0asU8MeFVSVKQ-L9kEtwJmc1h6LZuUmZDziQkPDkBWM9Wf4DSYK_0KsFnxKwtfDyUZk_x_SYSoMk82pLhQKXvg-EstUXOJjL4yU/s1600/TheDockBrief001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9BPxlsu2X_9UoGz7amnUor2rtzmId_Tjqw25QIQYQj0asU8MeFVSVKQ-L9kEtwJmc1h6LZuUmZDziQkPDkBWM9Wf4DSYK_0KsFnxKwtfDyUZk_x_SYSoMk82pLhQKXvg-EstUXOJjL4yU/s320/TheDockBrief001.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Started 2011.10.22<br />
Finished 2011.11.12<br />
<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Mortimer">John Mortimer</a>.<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dock_Brief"><i>The Dock Brief & Other Plays</i></a>.<br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grove_Press">New York: Grove Press Inc.</a>, 1962.<br />
<br />
The two other plays are <i>I Spy</i> and <i>What Shall we Tell Caroline?</i> With <i>Caroline</i> I experienced two <b>tiny</b> but distinct <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/began-rainbow-rising-from-stream-by.html" target="_blank"><i>*fushigi</i></a>. The first one began with a conversation with my used bookseller of our both having extensively read <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Th_Hardy_Boys" target="_blank"><b>Hardy Boys</b></a>. (Click <a href="#anchor2"><i>Caroline</i></a> to go to an extract of the play. Click <a href="#anchor1"><i>fushigi #1</i></a> to go to <i>fushigi #1</i>. Click <a href="#anchor4"><i>fushigi #2</i></a> to go to <i>fushigi #2</i>. Click <a href="#anchor3"><i>Dockbrief</i></a> to go to an extract from <i>Dockbrief</i>.)<br />
<br />
★★★☆☆<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjzazNf6wpPbB25kDAO8tRNasDyHPcO8LOEtU4nejyk74G77QL7Glc6CQbu7qSHsC77EMF-kQSX07PVV3MKJyyKHlIKDZGukuRs6YfXINJX8fqpwDGaojLMzrLJZLqp0pSnHpkOZQy7vy/s1600/RumpoleOfTheBailey.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right;margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjzazNf6wpPbB25kDAO8tRNasDyHPcO8LOEtU4nejyk74G77QL7Glc6CQbu7qSHsC77EMF-kQSX07PVV3MKJyyKHlIKDZGukuRs6YfXINJX8fqpwDGaojLMzrLJZLqp0pSnHpkOZQy7vy/s320/RumpoleOfTheBailey.png" /></a></div>I stumbled into this book of three plays while looking for something else. I was both excited and surprised to learn that the author of the excellent <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumpole_of_the_Bailey">Rumpole of the Bailey</a> series and books had also written plays.<br />
<br />
I came to these comedies with very high expectations, and so it is unlikely anything would have met them. However, these plays were far less than I thought they'd be. I have given them three stars instead of the two I was tempted to confer in order to compensate for dishonourably possessing those unrealistic expectations. Sadly the best writing came in the introduction Mortimer wrote:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3FgOiO2_oh8EKZCWjc_Bjkir4aNSSTvDzlgWMc6QFfWFgcTSon3t6Ga-QpBU6Hm6uAGyZDAuM1vhyphenhyphenbYEpDbXIs-2BbyZgQBx2WrRsvg9fumuPCGeaEmozPCSVEb9o9umROBKexHaEjLk/s1600/JohnMortimer2.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="121" width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY3FgOiO2_oh8EKZCWjc_Bjkir4aNSSTvDzlgWMc6QFfWFgcTSon3t6Ga-QpBU6Hm6uAGyZDAuM1vhyphenhyphenbYEpDbXIs-2BbyZgQBx2WrRsvg9fumuPCGeaEmozPCSVEb9o9umROBKexHaEjLk/s320/JohnMortimer2.png" /></a></div>"Comedy is, to my mind," writes John Mortimer, "the only thing worth writing in this despairing age, providing it is comedy which is truly on the side of the lonely, the neglected and unsuccessful.... In all plays, as in any sort of writing, what seems to me important is the moment of recognition: the small time when you realize, sitting in a theatre, with a shock of excitement and unease, that you are watching yourself."</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I've been wrestling with what it was about the plays that didn't engage me and it comes down to believability and sympathy.<br />
<br />
I didn't believe the situations, especially for <i>The Dock Brief</i> and <i>What Shall We Tell Caroline?</i> And I found the writing within the prescribed situations to have humour but lacked what ever it is in writing that takes completely unbelievable characters and makes them believably human. I was unable to empathize with them.<br />
<br />
Finally it struck me that the characters, male and female, all had a very similar voice. At least that was I how I interpreted my reaction/feeling about what I'd read. But when I re-read that, that wasn't really the case. What gave me that impression was a common feeling of flippant irreverence in the characters language. I suspect that seeing a production with competent actors would largely eliminate this 'problem,' but as I read it came across monotone.<br />
<br />
In 1961 Lewis Funke in his <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/books/99/03/28/specials/mortimer-caroline.html" target="_blank"><i>New York Times</i> review</a> of <i>What Shall We Tell Caroline?</i> and <i>The Dock Brief</i> closed his mostly negative review with "<i>The Dock Brief</i> has been done with reported success in other cities abroad. It would be interesting to know how that was accomplished." <br />
<br />
Perhaps my reaction is simply a measure of my getting older. I have become jaded because in my real life experience I have certainly seen incompetent boob-heads successfully rise into positions of real authority and power. And since truth is stranger than fiction, and with my now living this kind of boob-head truth, its written portrayal is stuck competing against that unbelievable truth. <br />
<br />
Anyway, a very easy and marginally fun read. I did see flashes here and there of what was to come from Mortimer with <i>Rumpole of the Bailey</i>, and 'she who must be obeyed.'<br />
<a name="anchor3"></a><br />
I've included three extracts, one from <i>The Dockbrief</i> and two from <i>What Shall We Tell Caroline?</i></span><blockquote><b>The Dockbrief</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: [barrister] Now. Let's get our minds in order.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: [accused of murder] Sort things out.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Exactly. Now, this wife of yours.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Doris?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Doris. A bitter, unsympathetic woman?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She was always cheerful. She loved jokes.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Oh, Fowle. Do be very careful.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I will, sir. But if you'd known Doris. . . . She laughed harder than she worked. "Thank God," she'd say, "for my old English sense of fun."<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: What sort of jokes, Fowle, did this Doris appreciate?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: All sorts. Pictures in the paper. Jokes on the wireless set. Laughs out of crackers, she'd keep them from Christmas to Christmas and trot them out in August.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: You couldn't share it?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Not to that extent. I often missed the funny point.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Then you'd quarrel?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: "Don't look so miserable, it may never happen." She said that every night when I came home. "Where'd you get that miserable expression from?"<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I can see it now. There is a kind of Sunday evening appearance to you.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I was quite happy. But it was always "Cat got your tongue?" "Where's the funeral?" "Play us a tune on that old fiddle face of yours. Lucky there's one of us here that can see the funny side." Then we had to have our tea with the wireless on, so that she'd pick up the phrases.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: You're not a wireless lover? <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I couldn't always laugh. And she'd be doubled up across the table, gasping as if her lungs were full of water. "Laugh," she'd call, "Laugh, damn you. What've you got to be so miserable about?" Then she'd go under, bubbling like a drowning woman.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Made meals difficult?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Indigestible. I would have laughed, but the jokes never tickled me. <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: They tickled her?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Anything did. Anything a little comic. Our names were misfortunate. <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Your names?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Going down the aisle she said: "Now we're cock and hen, aren't we, old bird?" Coming away, it was "Now I'm Mrs. Fowle, you'll have to play fair with me." She laughed so hard we couldn't get her straightened up for the photograph.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Fond of puns, I gather you're trying to say.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Of any sort of joke. I had a little aviary at the bottom of my garden. As she got funnier so I spent more time with my birds. Budgerigars are small parrots. Circles round their eyes give them a sad, tired look.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: You found them sympathetic?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Restful. Until one of them spoke out at me.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Spoke—what words?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: "Don't look so miserable, it may never happen."<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: The bird said that?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She taught it during the day when I was out at work. It didn't mean to irritate. <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: It was wrong of her of course. To lead on your bird like that.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: But it wasn't him that brought me to it. It was Bateson, the lodger.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Another man?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: At long last.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I can see it now. A crime of passion. An unfaithful wife. In flagrant. ... Of course, you don't know what that means. We'll reduce it to manslaughter right away. A wronged husband and there's never a dry eye in the jury-box. You came in and caught them.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Always laughing together.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Maddening. <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: He knew more jokes than she did.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Stealing her before your eyes?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: That's what I thought. He was a big man. Ex-police. Said he'd been the scream of the station. I picked him for her specially. In the chitty I put up in the local sweet shop, I wrote: "Humorous type of lodger wanted."<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: But wasn't that a risk?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Slight, perhaps. But it went all right. Two days after he came he poised a bag of flour to fall on her in the kitchen. Then she sewed up the legs of his pyjamas. They had to hold on to each other so as not to fall over laughing. "Look at old misery standing there," she said. "He can never see anything subtle."<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Galling for you. Terribly galling.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I thought all was well. I spent more time with the birds. I'd come home late and always be careful to scrunch the gravel at the front door. I went to bed early and left them with the Light Programme. On Sunday mornings I fed the budgies and suggested he took her tea in bed. "Laughter," she read out from her horoscope, "leads to love, even for those born under the sign of the Virgin." <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: You trusted them. They deceived you.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: They deceived me all right. And I trusted them. Especially after I'd seen her on his knee and them both looking at the cartoons from one wrapping of chips.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Mr. Fowle I'm not quite getting the drift of your evidence. My hope is—your thought may not prove a shade too involved for our literal- minded judge. Old Tommy Banter was a Rugger blue in '98. He never rose to chess and his draughts had a brutal, unintelligent quality.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: When he'd first put his knee under her I thought he'd do the decent thing. I thought I'd have peace in my little house at last. The wireless set dead silent. The end of all that happy laughter. No sound but the twitter from the end of the garden and the squeak of my own foot on the linoleum.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: You wanted. . . .<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I heard them whispering together and my hopes raised high. Then I came back and he was gone.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She'd. . . .<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Turned him out. Because he was getting over familiar. " I couldn't have that. " she said. " I may like my laugh, but thank God, I'm still respectable. No thank you, there's safety in marriage. So I'm stuck with you, fiddle face. Let's play a tune on it, shall we?" She'd sent him away, my last hope.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: So you . . . .<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I realise I did wrong.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: You could have left.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">FOWLE</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Who'd have fed the birds? That thought was uppermost.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">MORGENHALL</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: So it's not a crime of passion? (28-31)</span></blockquote><a name="anchor2"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now, an extract from <i>What Shall We Tell Caroline?</i> And, oddly enough, it includes a <b>tiny</b> <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/began-rainbow-rising-from-stream-by.html" target="_blank"><i>fushigi</i></a>. To go directly to the <i>fushigi</i> click <a href="#anchor1">here</a>, otherwise, carry on reading.<blockquote><b>What Shall We Tell Caroline?</b><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Many, many, happies, Caroline dear. <i>(He stoops to kiss the top of her head. Caroline lifts her face and kisses him on the mouth. She is still expressionless. He sits down, disconcerted, patting his lips with his handkerchief.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Caroline, my baby. Don't grow up any more. <i>(Lily hugs Caroline like a child and then sits down.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She didn't like you saying that.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She didn't mind. <i>(Pause while Lily begins to cry.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(suddenly loses his temper)</i> Will you provoke me, Bin, with these bloody waterworks?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Look. She hasn't noticed her presents yet.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She was upset.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: No she wasn't. <i>(Caroline looks down at her place and lifts her hands in amazement. Her face is still without expression.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(recovering)</i> She's seen them now.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(eagerly)</i> She may open mine first.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Well, of all the selfish....<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She's going to. I hope you didn't notice me buying it, Caroline, in the High Street yesterday. Creeping out ofW. H. Smith's.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Now you've given the game away.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: What are you hinting?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: The mention of W. H. Smith. Now she can rule out stockings or underwear or any nice toilet water. <i>(Caroline shakes the parcel.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Now she's guessed what it is.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I don't believe she has. <i>(Caroline shakes her head.)</i><br />
<a name="anchor1"></a><br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: No, she hasn't. <i>(Caroline opens the parcel, it contains a Halma set and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;"><b>three boy's adventure books</b>.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">) <i>[Here's the fushigi, which began October 22, Saturday, with my talking to my local used bookseller about our childhood reads. The conversation turned specifically to the boys adventure series, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hardy_Boys" target="_blank"><b>The Hardy Boys</b></a>. And I read this on Monday, October 24th.)</i></i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Same old things. She's bored with Halma.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: No she's not.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Yes she is.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Anyway it's a wholesome game, Peters, unlike the indoor sports you're addicted to.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: And these books. You only buy them to read them yourself. Three midshipmen stranded on a desert island. <i>(Picks up one and starts to read.)</i> "Give over tickling. Harry, giggled his chum, little guessing it was the hairy baboon that had crept up behind the unsuspecting youngsters...."<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She appreciates it.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(soothingly)</i> Of course she does, don't let's quarrel. Not on the birthday.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(putting down the book)</i> I suppose it takes all tastes.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Perhaps now she'll open mine. <i>(Caroline picks up a parcel.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I made it for you, dear. It took so long. It seem to have been making it all my life.<i>( Caroline opens the parcel. A long sweater, white and endless with the school colours at the neck. She holds it in front of herself. It's far too long.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Oh Caroline. There's too much of it. I had far too much spare time.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(putting his hand on Lily's shoulder)</i> She likes it. She thinks it'll keep her warm.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Warm? Keep her warm did you say? I tell you it's perfectly warm here, all the year round.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: There now. Headmaster. Lily's right. We shouldn't quarrel on the birthday. And look. She's knitted in the school colours. That'll cheer you up, you know. When you see those colours always round your daughter.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: At least it shows some sense of loyalty.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Of course, not being, strictly speaking, a parent my present, gets opened last.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span>:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(resentfully)</i> A treat saved up for you. <i>(Caroline picks up Tony's present. Holds it against her cheek. Listens to it.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I believe.... Yes. I think I am right in saying <i>(radio commentator's voice)</i>. "The ceremony is just about to begin. It's a wonderful spectacle here to-day. The Lady Mayoress has released the pigeons. The massed bands are striking up. The Boy Scouts are fainting in unprecedented numbers and...." <i>(Caroline undoes the parcel, produces a gilt powder compact)</i>.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: What can it be? <i>(Caroline opens the compact and sprinkles powder on her nose.)</i> (81-3)</blockquote><a name="anchor4"></a><br />
And now, for <i>fushigi</i> #2. Again, small, but directly on point. On October 26th, Wednesday, I did something I haven't done in more than 3 years. I had lunch with SJ. We were talking about various things, catching up. The conversation turned to personal growth and the interpersonal challenges of living with spouses. I suggested that a book I found very helpful, perhaps <i>the</i> most helpful because of its absolute basic approach to living, was <a href="http://books.google.ca/books/about/Thirsty_Swimming_in_the_Lake.html?id=NAcUOQAACAAJ&redir_esc=y" target="_blank"><i>Thirsty Swimming in the Lake</i></a> by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_K._Reynolds" target="_blank">David K. Reynolds</a>. There are two basic components to his approach: do what needs to be done and acknowledge and appreciate the efforts of others, including parents no matter how flawed, for contributing tangibly and realistically to your being alive. This was a quite extensive conversation.<br />
<br />
Well, that night I resumed reading <i>What Shall We Tell Caroline?</i> and within a few minutes of opening the book I read the following:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #6fa8dc; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">…<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: But you don't know why she didn't speak? I told you, Peters, all the terms of endearment start shouting and screaming when I utter them. When I love someone all my love turns to irritation. I lost my temper with Caroline! I hit her! I actually hit her!<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(crossing towards him)</i>: No dear. You didn't.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: How do you know?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: We were here in the room. You didn't hit her, Headmaster.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(deflated)</i>: I did. I wanted to hit her. After that, I thought she didn't speak. The nervous shock. Was it the nervous shock do you think, either of you?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Perhaps she didn't want to.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Or she had nothing to say to us. Although we had enough to say to her …. <br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Who shall we talk to now?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Each other. Lily. Always to each other.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Caroline! Why should she have to go. Tony?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: She has to go sometime.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I made her go. I hit her. I must have hit her. There's no other explanation.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(sits down in the basket-chair and picks up his ukulele)</i>: How shall we ever know?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: What do you mean. For God's sake explain what you mean?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Was it your temper or her temper that<br />
stopped her speaking? Was it just the complete lack of interest that overcomes all children at the thought of the parents who gave them birth?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: I wasn't responsible?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: What's responsible for Caroline as she is? What you told her? What you didn't tell her? The fact we told her a lie? The fact we told her the truth? Look back, Arthur. Look back. Lily do. What made us what we are? Anything our fathers and mothers said? More likely something that happened when we were all alone. Something we thought of for ourselves, looking for a passable disguise in a dusty attic, or for a path that didn't exist in the hot summer in the middle of a wood that smelt of nettles.<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Is that how you found things out?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: My dear old headmaster. I've never found out anything. I'm not a parent, but in my weak moments, like this afternoon, I've wanted to tell things to the young. Why do we do it? Not to give them information, but to make them repeat our lives. That's all. It's finished with us and we don't want it to be finished. We'd like them to do it for us—all over again. It'll be better for Caroline to work in the bank. If only her adding weren't quite so shaky. Let's hope she errs. Headmaster, on the side of generosity. <i>(Lily gets up and begins to put things on a tray.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">ARTHUR</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: What are you doing. Bin?<br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">LILY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">: Clearing away the tea. <i>(She goes out with the tray.)</i><br />
<br />
</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #610B0B;">TONY</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <i>(looking at his watch)</i>: Just ten minutes and the boys have to stop their so called " free time " and be hoarded into prep. I shall sit with them in silence (113-114).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-82984393813290851352011-11-06T22:24:00.000-08:002011-11-07T22:26:14.785-08:002011.10.23 — The Cat's Table by Michael Ondaatje — finished 2011.10.17<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
Began 2011.09.27.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUskMiwPb6HajIcFF3dCrY9hN7nh6eGbYITCfm8X9XawX0DGIW35CyfbxD1IOMG_eGtgfurxpoOjGge6U_EeJi3n1cOrw5UEIARdsUegobP-8eHuEy60ViUhjRbGuxIiIKG2c_ryBwqQv/s1600/Cat%2527sTable.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUskMiwPb6HajIcFF3dCrY9hN7nh6eGbYITCfm8X9XawX0DGIW35CyfbxD1IOMG_eGtgfurxpoOjGge6U_EeJi3n1cOrw5UEIARdsUegobP-8eHuEy60ViUhjRbGuxIiIKG2c_ryBwqQv/s320/Cat%2527sTable.png" width="167" /></a></div><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Ondaatje">Michael Ondaatje.</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mcclelland.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9780771068645"><i>The Cat's Table</i></a>.<br />
Toronto: <a href="http://www.mcclelland.com">McClelland & Stewart,</a> 2011. ISBN 978-0-7710-6864-5.<br />
<br />
Michael Ondaatje is one of the true masters of English poetry in prose. But when I learned that <i>The Cat's Table</i> was in the style of a memoir, I was slightly disappointed because, with some exceptions, I have not been fond of memoirs as such. However I felt curious and expectant that he would convert me. He did. He exceeded expectation because he managed, again, to convince me while reading his latest book that the one in my hands is my new Ondaatje favourite.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnkZwu_S0dVUDATHNEXHzxcHYLhj2aIM27VINrnaXjIPZyKp4tpetcfgi3-oMqMuEj2iiiZIDUoiH_GAU58krymwQG20ul-bZ1x5BlvPCkuTKyICZRJCrEGcXhd_9vmaX5ReuaCDDGS-U/s1600/MichaelOndaatje.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="123" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnkZwu_S0dVUDATHNEXHzxcHYLhj2aIM27VINrnaXjIPZyKp4tpetcfgi3-oMqMuEj2iiiZIDUoiH_GAU58krymwQG20ul-bZ1x5BlvPCkuTKyICZRJCrEGcXhd_9vmaX5ReuaCDDGS-U/s320/MichaelOndaatje.png" width="256" /></a></div>★★★★★<br />
<br />
And to describe it as a memoir is an accurate description, but only in the same way that to say the sky is blue is accurate: it misses the complexity of the experience. The arc of the story <i>is</i> a memoir of a pre-pubescent boy sent to England on a ship with scant adult supervision. Some critics I've read found that to be a stumbling point, but my childhood spent with scant adult supervision for extended periods of time is eerily echoed in how Michael interacts with the adult social marginals he and his new found friends are assigned to sit with at the cat's table, which is, I learned in this book, that one table in a public space that no one wants to be seated at. Thus he is lumped in with the ship's other dining room undesirables and comes to learn that what does not glitter may very well yield gold and beyond that the even more valuable stuff of a lived life.<br />
<br />
In the Q&A portion of the reading I attended, Ondaatje insisted that the book is <i>not</i> a memoir. He claims that, even though he did take a ship from Columbo to England as a child the age of the protagonist, Michael, he has little if even any memory of it. Ondaatje avers that his unremembered childhood trip sparked an idea for a story, that evolved as it was written, to include unexpected characters moving downstage into significance that<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNHpOUXnOr049B_ZuLP1E2_jJ1UI-FXT8Bhd4cfby3rg5RFsWgmVqvhsT1RjssshaOK9bgzmTIgloZU84gab4lPTaBA4TdSHGixSQn2g537W-sPi4FNkAzgnYxUEbDGhongSPm9yNPZTl/s1600/OndaatjeTicket001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="186" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNHpOUXnOr049B_ZuLP1E2_jJ1UI-FXT8Bhd4cfby3rg5RFsWgmVqvhsT1RjssshaOK9bgzmTIgloZU84gab4lPTaBA4TdSHGixSQn2g537W-sPi4FNkAzgnYxUEbDGhongSPm9yNPZTl/s320/OndaatjeTicket001.jpg" /></a></div>he had not imagined.<br />
<br />
Regardless memoir or fiction, Ondaatje's writing here is as beautiful as anything he has written:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A peculiarity of Miss Lasqueti was that she was a sleeper. Someone who at certain hours during the day could barely stay awake. You saw her fighting it. This struggle made her endearing, as if she were forever warding off an unjustified punishment. You'd walk past her in a deck chair, her head falling slowly towards the book she was attempting to read. She was in many ways our table's ghost, for it was also revealed that she sleepwalked, a dangerous habit on a ship. A sliver of white, I see her always, against the dark rolling sea.<br />
<br />
What was her future? What had been her past? She was the only one from the Cat's Table who was able to force us out of ourselves in order to imagine another's life. I admit it was mostly Ramadhin who coaxed this empathy from Cassius and me. Ramadhin was always the most generous of the three of us. But for the first time in our lives we began to sense there was an unlairness in someone else's life. Miss Lasqueti had, I remember, "gunpowder tea," which she mixed with a cup of hot water at our table, then poured into a thermos before she left us for the afternoon. You could actually see the flush enter her face as the drink knocked her awake (p74).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and:</span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>Sleep is a prison</i><small><sup><a href="fushigi">*</a></sup></small> for a boy who has friends to meet. We were impatient with the night, up before sunrise surrounded the ship. We could not wait to continue exploring this universe. Lying in my bunk I would hear Ramadhin's gentle knock on the door, in code. A pointless code, really—who else could it have been at that hour? Two taps, a long pause, another tap. If I did not climb down and open the door I would hear his theatrical cough. And if I still did not respond, I would hear him whisper "Mynah," which had become my nickname (p24).</span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a name="fushigi">*</a>I read the evocative phrase <i>Sleep is a prison</i> the day after I finished reading the play <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2011/09/20110926-sleep-of-prisoners-by.html"><i>A Sleep of Prisoners.</i></a> The uniqueness of both phrases — I hadn't read either one anywhere that I remember — has prompted me to include this as a <a href="http://egajdbooks.blogspot.com/2009/08/began-rainbow-rising-from-stream-by.html"><i>fushigi</i></a>. Or at least close enough for me to blog it as such. [Addendum: <i>The Cat's Table</i> is also loosely entangled in another, 'future' <i>fushigi</i>, involving <i>cats</i>. See <a href="http://egajd.blogspot.com/2011/11/20111102-cat-camel-fushigi.html">The Cat & the Camel</a> blog.]<br />
<br />
Beyond the sheer beauty of the writing Ondaatje seamlessly moves through the story using various voices. He has captured with perfection what I remember as the feelings of childhood wonder and acceptance of the process of being alive through Michael's eyes. Things simply <i>are</i>: the trip, the people, the intense life changing friendship that lasted for only 21 days. But Ondaatje also brings to the telling the reflectiveness of an adult considering a particular childhood passage. And he does this with a grace and lightness of touch that manages to keep the child's feeling of life's magic fully alive. And then he plays the omniscient writer's role to elaborate the background of two of the characters.<br />
<br />
And Ondaatje brings to fruition a mystery that is introduced, invisibly, quite early, that becomes a mystery well into the book, and closes with human simplicity and gentle, quiet satisfaction.<br />
<br />
All seamlessly. A breathtakingly beautiful and fulfilling read.</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7183014959940914377.post-31107458988182540522011-09-30T21:07:00.000-07:002011-09-30T21:15:22.788-07:002011.09.26 — A Sleep of Prisoners by Christopher Fry — finished<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsLRbOhOsOo_GrjqakhMRw0_LjFbBdLN34Jq58NztgWzJjLKVa2A3bL5bbYEnyO7Mlu-bcvvFbZV6bKZqdJaYE4sFSrQBhTnPOYg-SJbMMUQK_-bGsIlVOsPMnjz8mdwf0YHB4vyH4VFq/s1600/ASleepOfPrisoners.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKsLRbOhOsOo_GrjqakhMRw0_LjFbBdLN34Jq58NztgWzJjLKVa2A3bL5bbYEnyO7Mlu-bcvvFbZV6bKZqdJaYE4sFSrQBhTnPOYg-SJbMMUQK_-bGsIlVOsPMnjz8mdwf0YHB4vyH4VFq/s320/ASleepOfPrisoners.png" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christopher_Fry">Christopher Fry</a>.<br />
<a href="http://books.google.ca/books?id=7NC1ft0fhOAC&pg=PA9&lpg=PA9&dq=a+sleep+of+prisoners+by+christopher+fry&source=bl&ots=K8VTCgWdlK&sig=7nom3z3sA3UxxZJ6VMLyKMu2G2g&hl=en&ei=_FiBTvGnGpPXiAKz7KGHDQ&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=6&ved=0CEgQ6AEwBQ#v=onepage&q=a%20sleep%20of%20prisoners%20by%20christopher%20fry&f=false"><i>A Sleep of Prisoners</i></a>.<br />
Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1952.<br />
<br />
★★☆☆☆<br />
<br />
I found this to be an extremely difficult play to <i>read</i>. If <i>A Sleep of Prisoners</i> had been straight prose I'd have given it only one star. I <i>think</i> that I like what I <i>think</i> Fry was trying to do, but it just didn't quite work for me. I've been wrestling with pinpointing the source of my antipathy, and it comes down to basically three reasons.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlP4_RaLrnauix6PFddrr1ypqPYdApQM6VL3SFWGV8VATkQrPxdBcovpXlkYBhx0qRuJXUFAhhmOEEfq-jBzVncGP9RmYjQ6CwESPwqUvo5NUcDENy1mfEhTf7Ct251dYdrv1E8JT9E8SO/s1600/ChristopherFry.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="236" width="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlP4_RaLrnauix6PFddrr1ypqPYdApQM6VL3SFWGV8VATkQrPxdBcovpXlkYBhx0qRuJXUFAhhmOEEfq-jBzVncGP9RmYjQ6CwESPwqUvo5NUcDENy1mfEhTf7Ct251dYdrv1E8JT9E8SO/s320/ChristopherFry.png" /></a></div><br />
The first is an inherently confusing structure. The four actors in the drama play their 'title' characters which are foot soldiers being held in a church, but while sleep-walking they also portray different figures from the Old Testament at different times and sometimes more than one them. Thus the various soldiers are at various times either awake or asleep but sleep-walk and sleep-talk, and in some cases interact physically.<br />
<br />
This is the part I like <i>in theory</i> because the play takes on the confused structure of a dream and creatively turns the play itself into a series of dreams within dreams. Unfortunately that structure is inherently prone to confusion, amusingly very much like when trying to recall a multi-layered dream. Sadly Fry wasn't able to overcome that confusion, with me, and I found myself frequently and repeatedly unsure if the designated speaker was awake or asleep and personifying Abel or God. It was with growing frustration that I found myself frequently flipping back to see who was whom.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdtfWqe_xjm8nBrVm9-qeCDLJeDGa2VgqGi20iN3GhZBmdCqfKu-lCohHAks2ids8SyqvyB4wlZ9lvrT5x4vFy-lKo5SYaBvEOlV4RcMILNfDjT5Le6TZ-peKwbqfIrpUB46H-T2LlRU1/s1600/Branagh-Lady%2527sNotForBurning.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdtfWqe_xjm8nBrVm9-qeCDLJeDGa2VgqGi20iN3GhZBmdCqfKu-lCohHAks2ids8SyqvyB4wlZ9lvrT5x4vFy-lKo5SYaBvEOlV4RcMILNfDjT5Le6TZ-peKwbqfIrpUB46H-T2LlRU1/s320/Branagh-Lady%2527sNotForBurning.png" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://youtu.be/UDDxhs3RGAs">Branagh in <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The Lady's Not for Burning</span></i></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>It is probable that seeing the production would help keep the distinctions. However, and most importantly, the second failure was that Fry forced the language in a way that surprised me after my having read and seen two versions of his brilliant <a href="http://youtu.be/EqrrFx20nSQ">'The Lady's Not For Burning'</a>. <br />
<br />
And he forced it in two ways, both of which added to the confusion. The first was in shrilly striving to be profound and rustic at the same time. Perhaps here he was trying to emulate Shakespeare's <a href="http://jembloomfield.suite101.com/feste-in-twelfth-night-a30330">Feste</a> from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twelfth_Night"><i>Twelfth Night</i></a>, but failed. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTz_U0QmX7CtZAQ9m738IRgniVNL_L_efAd3MvQ4P9LE1aFlTg5CMXeKyRgL1DAhoIfNWGxXo5TLjqkGM8almDZyj4Y-a6g1zacSb7VkOHRqjMwX_JHMEKKWba0ztRWcPBA2dFBDDP5T2G/s1600/FesteBenKingsley.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;"><img border="0" height="108" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTz_U0QmX7CtZAQ9m738IRgniVNL_L_efAd3MvQ4P9LE1aFlTg5CMXeKyRgL1DAhoIfNWGxXo5TLjqkGM8almDZyj4Y-a6g1zacSb7VkOHRqjMwX_JHMEKKWba0ztRWcPBA2dFBDDP5T2G/s320/FesteBenKingsley.png" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://youtu.be/o6WJ4c9sNZc"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Ben Kingsley's Feste</span></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
The other way that the language failed was in how nearly identical the four soldiers sounded to each other, whether awake or sleep talking a Biblical figure. I suspect that this may well have been a result of Fry trying to have all the characters say accidentally profound and even memorable things. <br />
<a name="fromreview"></a><br />
And here is the final reason: the meaning was heavy-handed and coloured unfavourably by an excessively sentimental existential angst. Let's see if this citation captures what I mean. </span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #000099; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>DAVID.</b> Oh, go<br />
And discard yourself. G'night, Corporal Joseph Adams.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[ADAMS <i>goes to his bunk.<br />
</i>MEADOWS <i>turns in his sleep.<br />
The church clock strikes a single note.</i></div><br />
<b>MEADOWS</b> [<i>asleep</i>]. Who's that, fallen out? How many men?<br />
How many? I said only one.<br />
One was enough.<br />
No, no, no. I didn't ask to be God.<br />
No one else prepared to spell the words.<br />
Spellbound. B-o-u-n-d. Ah-h-h-h … <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[<i>He turns in his sleep again.</i></div><br />
It's old Adam, old, old, old Adam.<br />
Out of bounds. No one said fall out.<br />
What time did you go to bad?<br />
Sorrow, Adam, stremely sorrow.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[CORPORAL ADAMS <i>comes towards him,<br />
a dream figure.</i></div><br />
Adam, Adam, stand easy there.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Reporting for duty, sir.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> As you were, Adam.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> No chance of that, sir.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> As you were, as you were.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Lost all track of it now, sir.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> How far back was it, Adam?<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS</b> [<i>with a jerk of the head</i>].<br />
Down the road. Too dark to see.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> Were you alone?<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> A woman with me, sir.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> I said Let there be love,<br />
And there wasn't enough light, you say?<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> We could see our own shapes, near enough,<br />
But not the road. The road kept on dividing<br />
Every yard or so. Makes it long.<br />
We expected nothing like it, sir.<br />
Ill-equipped, naked as the day,<br />
It was all over and the world was on us<br />
Before we had time to take cover.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> Stand at peace, Adam: do stand at peace.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> There's nothing of that now, sir.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> Corporal Adam.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Sir?<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS.</b> You have shown spirit.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Thank you, sir.<br />
Excuse me, sir, but there's some talk of a future.<br />
I've had no instructions.<br />
<br />
<b>MEADOWS</b> [<i>turning in his sleep</i>]. Ah-h-h-h-h.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Is there any immediate anxiety of that?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[DAVID, <i>as the dream figure of Cam, stands leaning on the lectern, chewing at a beet.</i></div><br />
How far can we fall back, sir?<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID</b> [<i>smearing his arms with beet juice</i>]. <br />
Have you lost something?<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Yes, Cain: yes, I have.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Have you felt in all your pockets?<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Yes, and by searchlight all along the grass<br />
For God knows howling. Not a sign,<br />
Not a sign, boy, not a ghost.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> When do you last<br />
Remember losing it?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> When I knew it was mine.<br />
As soon as I knew it was mine I felt<br />
I was the only one who didn't know<br />
My host.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Poor overlooked<br />
Old man. Allow me to make the introduction.<br />
God: man. Man: God.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[PETER, <i>the dream figure of Abel, is in the organ-loft fingering out ''Now the day is over'.</i></div><br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> I wish it could be so easy.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Sigh, sigh, sigh!<br />
The hot sun won't bring you out again<br />
If you don't know how to behave.<br />
Pretty much like mutiny. I'd like to remind you<br />
We're first of all men, and complain afterwards.<br />
[<i>Calling.</i>] Abel! Abel! Hey, flock-headed Peter,<br />
Come down off those mountains.<br />
Those bleating sheep can look after themselves.<br />
Come on down.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> What for?<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Because I said so!<br />
<br />
<b>PETER</b> [<i>coming down</i>]. I overlooked the time. Is it day or night?<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> You don't deserve to inherit the earth.<br />
Am I supposed to carry the place alone?<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> Where will you carry it?<br />
Where do you think you're going to take it to,<br />
This prolific indifference?<br />
Show me an ending great enough<br />
To hold the passion of this beginning<br />
And raise me to it.<br />
Day and night, the sun and moon<br />
Spirit us, we wonder where. Meanwhile<br />
Here we are, we lean on our lives<br />
Expecting purpose to keep her date,<br />
Get cold waiting, watch the overworlds<br />
Come and go, question the need to stay<br />
But do, in an obstinate anticipation of love.<br />
Ah, love me, it's a long misuse of breath<br />
For boys like us. When do we start?<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> When you suffering god'sbodies<br />
Come to your senses. What you'll do<br />
Is lose us life altogether.<br />
Amply the animal is Cain, thank God,<br />
As he was meant to be: a huskular strapling<br />
With all his passions about him. Tomorrow<br />
Will know him well. Momentous doings<br />
Over the hill for the earth and us.<br />
What hell else do you want?<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> The justification.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Oh, bulls and bears to that.<br />
The word's too long to be lived.<br />
Just if, just if, is as far as ever you'll see.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> What's man to be?<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Content and full.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> That's modest enough.<br />
What an occupation for eternity.<br />
Sky's hollow filled as far as for ever<br />
With rolling light: place without limit,<br />
Time without pity:<br />
And did you say all for the sake of our good condition,<br />
All for our two-footed prosperity?<br />
Well, we should prosper, considering<br />
The torment squandered on our prospering.<br />
From squid to eagle the ravening is on.<br />
We are all pain-fellows, but nothing you dismay,<br />
Man is to prosper. Other lives, forbear<br />
To blame me, great and small forgive me<br />
If to your various agonies<br />
My light should seem hardly enough<br />
To be the cause of the ponderable shadow.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Who do you think you are, so Angel-sick?<br />
Pain warns us to be master: pain prefers us.<br />
Draws us up.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> Water into the sun:<br />
All the brooding clouds of us!<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> All right.<br />
We'll put it to the High and Mighty.<br />
Play you dice to know who's favoured.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> What's he to do with winning?<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Play you dice.<br />
Not so sure of yourself, I notice.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> I'll play you. Throw for first throw.<br />
Now creation be true to creatures.<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Look, sir, my sons are playing.<br />
How silent the spectators are,<br />
World, air, and water.<br />
Eyes bright, tension, halt.<br />
Still as a bone from here to the sea.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID</b> [<i>playing</i>]. Ah-h-h-h!<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Sir, my sons are playing. Cain's your man.<br />
He goes in the mould of passion as you made him,<br />
He can walk this broken world as easily<br />
As I and Eve the ivory light of Eden.<br />
I recommend him. The other boy<br />
Frets for what never came his way,<br />
Will never reconcile us to our exile.<br />
Look, sir, my sons are playing.<br />
Sir, let the future plume itself, not suffer.<br />
<br />
<b>PETER</b> [<i>playing</i>]. How's that for a nest of singing birds?<br />
<br />
<b>ADAMS.</b> Cain sweats: Cain gleams. Now do you see him?<br />
He gives his body to the game.<br />
Sir, he's your own making, and has no complaints.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID.</b> Ah! What are you doing to me, heaven and earth?<br />
<br />
<b>PETER.</b> Friendly morning.<br />
<br />
<b>DAVID</b> [<i>shaking the dice</i>]. Numbers, be true to nature.<br />
Deal me high,<br />
Six dark stars<br />
Come into my sky.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[<i>He throws.</i></div>Blight! What's blinding me<br />
By twos and threes? I'm strong, aren't I?<br />
Who's holding me down? Who's frozen my fist<br />
So it can't hatch the damn dice out?<br />
<br />
<b>PETER</b> [<i>shaking and throwing</i>].<br />
Deal me high, deal me low.<br />
Make my deeds<br />
My nameless needs.<br />
I know I do not know.<br />
... That brings me home!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">[DAVID <i>roars with rage and disappointment.</i> (10-15)</div></blockquote></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This is typical of the entire play. Forced but false earthy wisdom, and dialogue that makes all the characters sound the same, even when they come from <i>The Bible</i>. I was very disappointed.<br />
<br />
But curious to see a production, to see how someone approaches the problems of staging this play. And to see how the presence of individuals acting the play helps to distinguish the dialogue and make it less heavy with sentimental angst.<br />
</span>Guy Duperreaulthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05300018595841442280noreply@blogger.com0