something about "The Age of Grief" by Jane Smiley

I enjoyed this collection of short stories more than I have enjoyed any fiction work in a while. The protagonist of "Long Distance"--my favorite here--reaches a moment of realization that his life had already plateaued. The New York Times review put it well--"he can no longer pretend there are endless possibilities." This story finishes strongly. "The Pleasure of Her Company" also worked well; in it, a single woman befriends a couple that just moved in next door. She learns later that the couple liked having her around because she distracted them from the disintegration of their relationship. Smiley ends this one with a gut punch, too. The title piece is good despite its relatively lesser conclusion. The protagonist's emotional shifts and withdrawal emerge from modestly set narrative points. "Dynamite" and "Jeffrey, Believe Me" are my least favorites, but even those were good reads.

about "A Christmas Memory" by Truman Capote

In this short piece by Truman Capote, a seven-year-old narrator lovingly remembers the last Christmas he shared with his intellectually disabled, elderly distant cousin. That season, the pair followed their tradition of making fruitcake and giving gifts. Capote's unadorned writing colors the events with innocence.

In the years following that Christmas, the boy goes away to school and his cousin succumbs to old age and dementia. In the wonderfully sentimental passage below, Capote masterfully captures the heartbreak one feels when a loved one passes:

Life separates us. Those who Know Best decide that I belong in a military school. And so follows a miserable succession of bugle-blowing prisons, grim reveille-ridden summer camps. I have a new home too. But it doesn't count. Home is where my friend is, and there I never go.

And there she remains, puttering around the kitchen. Alone with Queenie. Then alone. ("Buddy dear," she writes in her wild hard-to-read script, "yesterday Jim Macy's horse kicked Queenie bad. Be thankful she didn't feel much. I wrapped her in a Fine Linen sheet and rode her in the buggy down to Simpson's pasture where she can be with all her Bones...."). For a few Novembers she continues to bake her fruitcakes single-handed; not as many, but some: and, of course, she always sends me "the best of the batch." Also, in every letter she encloses a dime wadded in toilet paper: "See a picture show and write me the story." But gradually in her letters she tends to confuse me with her other friend, the Buddy who died in the 1880's; more and more, thirteenths are not the only days she stays in bed: a morning arrives in November, a leafless birdless coming of winter morning, when she cannot rouse herself to exclaim: "Oh my, it's fruitcake weather!"

And when that happens, I know it. A message saying so merely confirms a piece of news some secret vein had already received, severing from me an irreplaceable part of myself, letting it loose like a kite on a broken string. That is why, walking across a school campus on this particular December morning, I keep searching the sky. As if I expected to see, rather like hearts, a lost pair of kites hurrying toward heaven.

Note: "A Christmas Memory" was published in 1956.
 

something about "With The Old Breed," by E. B. Sledge

 
This book is celebrated for being evenhanded; I would say that indeed it focuses on the immediate rather than the theoretical. The narrative relays many of the terrors and revulsions of war. But does that make it neutral? No. The book is, however, a valuable document of the war experience from a ground-level, engaged perspective.

In With The Old Breed, Eugene Sledge gives us his experiences in the Pacific during World War II, in vicious battle and prolonged rot and anxiety. Sledge describes the horrors, the toll on one's mind, the resentments, prejudices, anxiety, and dehumanization a soldier experiences and witnesses. This book is a closeup. Sledge's disgust for the worst events comes through, but he devotes double that time to recognizing and honoring fellow soldiers. His praise is probably mythification, but for the shit they went through, Sledge's heroes deserve whatever token he can deliver.

About self

We spoke first in terms of the soul and the vessel, then the spirit and the flesh, and then the mind and body. Now we speak in terms of identity and biology.

"Smashed"

I can't be sober and be with you-

about Ken Burns' film "The Roosevelts"

Ken Burns' most recent entry in the American encyclopedia is "The Roosevelts: An Intimate History." This film constructs a narrative of Theodore and Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. Teddy, a Republican, served as 26th President of the United States, and Franklin, a Democrat, the 32nd. The documentary film begins with the birth of Theodore in 1858 and ends with the death of Eleanor in 1962. The production is superior, fueled with solid writing, crisp pacing, and sharp editing.

The film relies on loose eye-witness accounts from the Roosevelt's family and friends and the speculation and psychoanalysis of historical writers, such as Doris Kearns Goodwin and David McCullough, whose work sells because they dramatize history. The first episode inscribes an origin story for each future President. The narrative willingly indulges the Great Man theory, that idea that history is the result of the charisma, intelligence, and skill of the heroes and giants of the age. In the case of the Roosevelt Presidents as depicted in this documentary, both are born sickly and, merely by living, miraculously defy death. Describing baby Franklin in the arms of his mother, the narration quotes a family member who likens the pair to a Madonna with child. Rather than simply say that the family was proud of their kin, this testimony is treated as bearing some deeper insight and truth. In another segment, the narrative depicts Teddy's time in the badlands as a trial from which he emerged transformed, like Jesus returning from the desert.

Something on the autobiography "It’s So Easy (And Other Lies)" by Duff McKagen

Duff founded and played bass in Guns N' Roses. But while that may be his autobiography's top billing, events before and after life in that seminal band offer comparable value from the side stages. Humbled by experiences and anchored in the spiritual and physical disciplines that brought him sobriety, Duff offers an uncomplicated version of a band's rise and unsatisfying end (more of a suspension, really). On Guns' demise, Duff faults the band's inability to confront each other about problems rather than the problems themselves--everyone's drug use and lead singer Axl Rose's volatility and musical takeover.

Maybe it's a result of his singular drive to make and play music, or maybe it's the functional result of his focused narrative, or maybe it's a social strategy employed to fit in the scene, but on paper Duff exudes a real simplicity of character, despite his having since undergone a kind of spiritual and physical rebirth. The pre-soberiety Duff is a former self whose problems, in his words, "seems to have hinged on a failure to grapple with a few basic definitions--of what it meant to be successful, of what it meant to be an adult, of what it meant to be a man".

Although much less lurid and infinitely less indulgent than Nikki Sixx's autobiography The Heroin Diaries: A Year in the Life of a Shattered Rock Star, I found It’s So Easy (And Other Lies) to be the better read.

Inspiration

In this culture you often hear of at least two kinds of inspiration: (1) artistic inspiration and (2) personal inspiration.

Talk of artistic inspiration might sound like, "Beethoven's 5th and 9th Symphonies are his most inspired" or "Beethoven was inspired when he wrote his 9th Symphony". Talk of personal inspiration comes in two flavors: (a) Common personal inspiration and (b) uncommon personal inspiration.

Someone might use common personal inspiration when boosting a child who's performing poorly in school: "You know, Einstein failed classes in school when he was a kid". The inspirational message being driven is something like "You never know what you might be capable of achieving".

Uncommon inspiration stories often explicitly speak of overcoming adversity. For example, you might hear about a promising young athlete who after a car accident is left paralyzed from the waist down. This same young athlete then goes on to be an accomplished musician. Or, the inspiring person may grow up dirt poor or suffer from a mental or cosmetic handicap but accomplish great things nevertheless.

The subject or protagonist in uncommon inspiration stories rarely--maybe never--overcomes adversity because he was inspired by another uncommon inspirational story. Rather, his motivation and ability is unique to who he is. In other words, uncommon inspirational stories usually do not inspire. They serve as stories of interest. But they have a wider cultural effect: These stories create an archetype of a poor, disadvantaged, or disabled person from which we draw expectations about the poor, disadvantaged, or disabled.

Something on Tom Perrotta's novel The Leftovers

With somewhere around 30 pages left, Perrotta's books usually end with a flurry of page turning, a race to what happens. Not so with The Leftovers. But what The Leftovers lacks in action, it makes up for with meaning and emotion. I've read every Perrotta book and although this one ranks low, his low is still high.

The story picks up shortly after a mysterious happening likened to the rapture in which half the Earth's population vanished in an instant, and in the quiet aftermath we watch a cast of characters deal with the loss best they can. One facet of loss that interested me was that of identity. The subtraction of so many peers seemed to leave people wanting for their own identities, as if they were only who they were with everyone else around to verify it. This suggests we're all social constructions.

Also missing are the identities of the vanished, most of whom are unsurprisingly canonized, honored at small parades, days of remembrance and the like. Likewise, relationships are recreated in the minds of the rememberers. One of the novel's characters, a teenaged girl named Jill, lost a childhood friend-turned-acquaintance but, in the friend's absence, the two girls are recast as best friends who were much more alike and much closer and more dear to each other than they had ever been before the rapture.

I don't know that identity was an issue Perrotta intentionally explored. Anyway, good book.

A tale of two endings

The New York Times issued two death certificates today. The first was for soft and sterile Republican candidate Jon Huntsman. The article "Major Ad Blitz for Huntsman in New Hampshire, by Group Backed by His Father" maintains the narrative that candidate Jon Jr. is the son who can't escape the shadow of his rich, self-made father. The article says this explicitly:

Though Mr. Huntsman has clearly made his own name as the governor of Utah and, most recently, as the ambassador to China for President Obama, he has grown up in the long shadow of his father, one of the richest men in the country and an entrepreneur behind iconic items of Americana ...

And the supporting details from the article (parenthetical is mine):

Governor Huntsman made it clear early this year that he did not think he could be a viable presidential contender if he did not raise money on his own, telling reporters, “Unless you can raise it legitimately, you’re not going to win.”

As he has struggled to do so, his aides and supporters have placed increasing hope that Mr. Huntsman’s father would shovel enough money into (Jr.'s PAC) Our Destiny ...

Mr. Huntsman has been loath to ask his father to up his commitment to the outside group, several people familiar with the situation said. His father, on the other hand, they said, has been unwilling to do so without being asked, especially given the uncertainty of whether the investment would make a huge difference.

The Huntsman candidacy never had a chance, and The New York Times' insistence on this narrative only hurt.

The second death certificate is for the Occupy Wall Street movement--or, at least the occupation part. The article "Beyond Seizing Parks, New Paths to Influence" depicts the police raids and impending Winter as ruinous for the protestors encamped in parks across the nation. The article's sources now predict a shift in strategy from attention-getting to information sharing and political action. The New York Times has consistently been critical of the protestors and the movement, focusing on the perceived lack of a unifying message or list of demands and the nuisances caused to locals and businesses, but the paper has stayed pretty neutral about the politics. This article seems to argue that Occupy Wall Street succeeded in raising consciousness about the issues, if nothing else.

Current narrative on Occupy Wallstreet

The media narrative on Occupy Wall Street says the participants have no clearly defined unifying goal or policy objective. By contrast we're shown the Tea Party who want smaller government and less taxes. Nevermind that "smaller government" and "less taxes" are amazingly broad demands that, if actually instituted, would result in changes that the Tea Party would not support, including cuts to the military, cuts to US farm and oil subsidies, and cuts to Social Security and Medicare (presumably, once unknowing senior Tea Party members are made aware these are government-run programs, some would change their mind).

Occupy Wall Street's thematic conceptual equivalent to "smaller government" and "less taxes" is probably "inequality" because this key word holds much meaning for the protestors: Inequality of wealth distribution (the poor get poorer and the rich get mega-rich), inequality of bailout-giving (big banks get 'em, homeowners and college loanees don't), inequality of criminal prosecutions (white collar crimes are often ignored, crimes of the poor cause prisons to spill over), and so on.

If the narrative is true that Occupy Wall Street lacks a cohesive, meaningful message, then it is equally true of the Tea Party. In fact, as the Tea Party grew in number, its aims became even more diverse, including Obama citizenship-deniers, health care reform opponents, social conservatives, fiscal conservatives, veterans, seniors, libertarians, the rich and the poor. Yet they were celebrated in the media for allegedly lacking leadership and being a true-blue grass roots movement. The same benefit of the doubt is denied Occupy Wall Street.

Bias in prisoner swap story

Mainstream outlets cover the Israeli-Palestinian prisoner swap from the Israeli perspective (i.e., "Israeli Solder to be Released") while others and foreign outlets go either way. In this case (pictured at right), only Al Jazeera takes an angle on the Palestinian prisoners.

Incidentally, the ratio of prisoners being freed (1000 Palestinians to 1 Israeli) is interesting because it lends itself to either of two diametrically opposed conclusions: (1) 1000 to 1? How many warmongering Palestinians are there?, or (2) 1000 to 1? How could the Israelis imprison so many Palestinians?

Change in Libya, change in media

Judging by changes in the tone and language of coverage, I sense the media is backing away from the Libyan rebels. When the tide of battle turned not long ago, the coverage was breathlessly supportive of their cause. But now the rebels have power and the remaining fight has only the Gadhafi manhunt and a few stalemates with Gadhafi loyalists in various municipalities. The waning enthusiasm in part flows naturally from the press tiring of the story line. But there's more to it: The rebels are no longer a single-cause fighting force. Now they are emerging as a diverse set of forces with different agendas and identities. This defies the simplistic narrative that most journalists need. For example: The rescue of trapped miners makes a good story. The miners dealing with the trauma, depression, and anxiety in the aftermath is a hard story. The former gets tons of coverage; the latter, little to none. Aside from the media's preference for simple narratives, they now see that the new Libyan leadership may turn out no better than Gadhafi, and this would reveal how truly uncritical the coverage of this conflict was.

Congratulations on buying the Robot Romney Corp 2012

In The New York Times article "‘Corporations Are People,’ Romney Tells Iowa Hecklers Angry Over His Tax Policy", the reporter quotes Romney tossing out a line about raising taxes which draws shouts of "Corporations!" from an audience member. Romney says corporations are people:

“Of course they are,” Mr. Romney said, chuckling slightly. “Everything corporations earn ultimately goes to people. Where do you think it goes?”

The reporter shares analysis:

It was a telling, unscripted moment for Mr. Romney likely to be replayed on YouTube. In an instant, he seemed to humanize himself by pointedly squabbling with the group of hecklers, showing flashes of anger and defying his reputation as a sometimes stilted, unfeeling candidate.

This "stilted, unfeeling" reputation comes from the media. They invented it, the Romney narrative, and they reinforce it. This slight break in that narrative amuses the reporter because he's so much a part of it he can't see that it is only a characterization, and that Romney actually is human.

Here's the article's highlight:

Thursday was Mr. Romney’s most fiery day on the trail this week, even before the hecklers, affiliated with Iowa Citizens for Community Improvement, an organizing group, drew him into several aggressive exchanges. Mr. Romney took the stage with sweat already glistening on his brow and upper lip. The sweat trickled down his cheek as he worked himself into animated rhythm in a 10-minute speech that criticized President Obama.

Worked himself into animated rhythm? Did he oil his machine parts? Maybe get Dorothy and Scarecrow to lock arms for song?

By drawing attention to this supposed anomaly, the article reinforces and emphasizes the prevailing narrative that media generated. The exception seems to prove the rule. This is a much smaller version than the time Hillary Clinton got weepy toward the conclusion of the Democratic Primary in 2008.

The other narratives include Huntsman attempting to stand on his own two legs and Bachmann trying not to act psycho.

This means war

Midway through Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises, two young guerrillas named Andres and Primitivo probe American expat Robert Jordan about politics and wealth in the US. Andres asks, "Do you have any big proprietors?" Then, "But there are not great estates that must be broken up?" The narrative goes on with Jordan answering,

"Yes. But there are those who believe that taxes will break them up."
"How?"
Robert Jordan, wiping out the stew bowl with bread, explained  now the income tax and inheritance tax worked. "But the big estates remain. Also, there are taxes on the land," he said.
"But surely the big proprietors and the rich will make a revolution against such taxes. Such taxes appear to me to be revolutionary. They will revolt against the government when they see that they are threatened, exactly as the fascists have done here," Primitivo said.

Electronic Music

Imagine the Casiotone (with other higher-end synthesizer-oriented electronic musical instruments) begatting modern electronic music. The story of this genre would be a story about technology turning in on itself through the medium of music wherein it expresses something essential about itself: That it must evolve or risk dying. When a technology reaches some perceived peak, such as the printing press and paper, that technology, it is thought, risks and awaits eradication. If it cannot be improved upon, it eventually will be outmoded. This truth is expressed at the micro-level in electronic music--a genre in which the triumph is to achieve a seamless transition from one piece of music into another piece, eventually rendering the first piece unrecognizable and forgotten, its sonic identity at once consumed and carried on in subsequent arrangements.

I don't like or listen to this music.