Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Sorta political: Inflation?

Glen Reynolds has a had a lot of fun pointing out how the word "unexpected" keeps showing up in headlines about bad economic news during the Obama administration. Today's example comes from the London Telegraph:
Blow for commuters as UK sees unexpected rise in inflation
The article also hastens top tell us that economists are certain the inflation in question is just a blip. Well, let's hope so.

Anyone old enough to remember the last time we had such pervasive nannyism in government, however, will get a sinking feeling in their stomach when they see those numbers. In the late 1970s, we had an extended period of slow growth and high unemployment just like we have now and then we got inflation too. That happened after the Americans elected Jimmy Carter President and he pushed policies that look a lot like what Obama has done. It wouldn't be entirely unexpected if the same kinds of policies produced the same bad results would it?

 

Monday, August 13, 2012

Is teen fiction necessary?

I was very kindly asked to expand my views on teen fiction and it seems to me that the question above is the right one to start with. Not because it's a terribly difficult question to answer. The answer is plain and simple and the answer is "No".

No one needs teen fiction. Children's fiction serves several different roles including, among others, bonding with parents and learning language. By the time you get to be a teen, the bonding function is accomplished with other things (and often against your will as you would prefer to be alone in your room) and the books you need for learning are all supplied by your school. Reading for a teen is a purely decadent activity. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

And some kids, I was one of them, start reading fiction the way other kids eat potato chips and drink soft drinks. Huge amounts of fiction are run through. My nieces and nephews grew up with Harry Potter and they and their mothers would stand in line to get the new volume on a Monday and then they'd go home and disappear into their rooms and come to breakfast on Wednesday morning having consumed the whole thing. They'd consume four, five, six, seven hundred or even a thousand pages a week if it was available.

I call this sort of reading book-diving. It's done for no other reason than that it feels good. You just plunge into the book and disappear. It might be doing you some good to be doing all that reading but that thought never occurs to you. You pick these books up and you start reading. You can tell within pages whether it's going to give you the experience you want and, if it will, you dive right in and don't come out for days.

What you are looking for I'll get to tomorrow but suffice to note here that it isn't elegant prose, carefully constructed plots, brilliant metaphors or deep insights into the human condition. You tear through this stuff always more interested in the next page than the one you're on.

Teen fiction exists solely to meet the desires of girls and boys like my nieces and nephews. Especially girls. By teen years, girls have already distinguished themselves as much heavier readers of fiction than boys. Some women never stop reading teen fiction.  Some market analysts estimate that one third of the teen fiction sold is purchased by adults for themselves. And an awful lot of the novels that women do read as adults is just teen fiction transposed to an adult setting the way a lot of science fiction is just cowboy fiction transposed into space, "the final frontier". New York is just one big high school for the Sex-and-the-City girls.

And one of the big themes of all teen fiction is the lead character's efforts to both belong to and differentiate herself from various groups—a big high school preoccupation. The other big theme is ... well, let's leave that until tomorrow and consider first the giant distortion.

Fixing the market
If you look at the NPR list, one of the first things to strike you is that some of these books and series are on the list because they pretty much have to be; The Harry Potter books, The Hunger Games and The Twilight series. What distinguishes these books is the sales. Harry Potter and The Twilight books have probably each individually sold more copies over the last ten years than all the other books on the NPR list put together.

And that is important to keep in mind because these books are in an entirely different category than the others. They are the books that teens read and reread as much as they can. The rest, well, the rest is a lot like the sort of stuff that the hard core sports fan will watch when there isn't a really big football, basketball or hockey game to watch but he wants to watch something.

A lot of others are perennial classics, the Tolkien books, the Bradbury books, To Kill a Mockingbird. These are also there because kids keep reading them despite busybodies best efforts to the contrary. You can bet that an awfully lot of teen girls would have voted for Jane Austen if they'd been given the chance too.

Most of the other books on the list got there largely through attempts to distort the game by adults. One trick, which I noted in the previous post, is that the vote was fixed by an expert panel. They excluded as much of the stuff that teens actually want to read as they possibly could—you'll notice for example, that the Gossip Girl books were excluded from the nomination list.

By the way, how much you want to bet that a lot more teens are devouring Fifty Shades of Grey than are plodding through any of the worthy teen fiction preferred by the "expert panel" who narrowed down the NPR list? When I was a teen, girls just gobbled up The Fountainhead and it was an open secret that the rape scene was a big part of the attraction. But you can be sure that no librarian is going want to let them vote for "a book like that". We can't let girls admit they like reading books about being sexually submissive and we don't want to think too much about why girls are drawn to such stories in the first place.

Meanwhile, it is a lot easier for adult busybodies to make the kinds of books they wish teens were reading look popular than you might guess. You see, the thing is that there are a lot of libraries out there and a book can get to be quite a bestseller simply by appealing to librarians and other busybodies who want to impose their ideas of what would make good teen fiction on kids. If every library in the country buys your book, you have it made.

And some actual book-diving teens will read it because they crave books and go looking for them. Well, they'll read a few pages anyway. They may not read it all the way.

If you've read Graham Greene's The Heart of the Matter, you'll remember the scene where the hero is asked to read to a sick boy and the book he gets stuck reading is a horrible bit of "improving" fiction called A Bishop Among the Bantus. Well, however horrible that book may have been, it couldn't possibly be as awful a prospect as The Book Thief:
Trying to make sense of the horrors of World War II, Death relates the story of Liesel — a young German girl whose book-stealing and storytelling talents help sustain her family and the Jewish man they are hiding, as well as their neighbors.
That is a book that an adult picks for a kid. Many of the kids it is picked for will think, "Kill me now before I have to read it".

(By the way, notice how The Book Thief sets up the moral issues: it's about a "young German girl"  and her family who are protecting a Jewish man and who are apparently near starvation. This picks up the treatment of WW2  a lot of intellectuals seem to prefer  these days wherein the good Germans are victims of some weird subgroup called Nazis who take over as opposed to actually facing that they might be individually and collectively responsible for what happened.))

Having described what makes a lot of recommended teen fiction awful, I'll turn to what makes the illicit kind so damn good tomorrow.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Another image: What are they selling?

Preparing the teenfiction post for earlier this morning, I came across the cover of A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle. The book is pure hackery but that cover is brilliant.




Notice how the dolphin's reflection and its body produce a circle. The girl is on her own little world confronting the universe. That should seem familiar because it evokes one of the genuine classics of the genre:



That's brilliant and so is the deliberate evocation of it on the L'Engle cover done by Fred Marcellino.

But it's not quite the same is it? There is something in the Marcellino cover to A Ring of Endless Light that you don't find in Le Petit Prince. I mean, she sure is "riding" that dolphin isn't she?

And notice what her hands do. A dolphin's fin is roughly triangular but her hands block part of it out such that it looks like ... well, you tell me what it looks like.


That's not an accident folks. It works like the symbolism in a Japanese garden. In a Japanese garden, everything is what it is. That rock is a rock. But look at it in the right frame of mind and you can see it as a Mount Fuji in the midst of a vast landscape instead of a rock in a small garden. That's how you sell sex to teenage girls folks. An obviously sexual image would put the teenage girl off. She doesn't want sex, if you'll pardon the expression, thrust upon her. That girl has to be riding a dolphin but just maybe our young reader looks at it in the right frame of mind, say on day fifteen of her cycle, and she sees something else.

A little light culture: Teenfiction

The good folks at NPR had a poll asking readers to pick the best teen-fiction novels ever. I thought it might be fun to take their list and cut out everything published since 1992. I also cut any series of novels still continuing after 1992 even if it began before 1992.

My argument for this is simple: nothing that has been around for less than 20 years has stood the test of time. I think I was being generous making the cut off point just twenty years and I think a good case can be made that anything that hasn't lasted 50 years has not stood the test of time.

You might think, by the way, that the heavy emphasis on recent books is the fault of the teens and their parents who voted for these things but you'd be wrong. NPR receieved 1200 nominations from readers and had them narrowed down by an "expert panel" and they put together a list that is heavily oriented towards recently published books. It's not hard to figure out why NPR listeners were denied the chance to vote on such obvious classics as Mark Twain, just one of several who clearly belong on such a list.

Only 27 books are left after we cut off everything published since 1992. That, all by itself tells you what a joke this is, the notion that 63 73 of the best teen fiction novels ever written were published in the last twenty years is ridiculous.

Without further ado, here is what is left:
  1. To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee (1960) 
  2. The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien (1937) 
  3. The Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger (1951) 
  4. The Lord of the Rings (series), by J.R.R. Tolkien (1954-1955) 
  5. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury (1953) 
  6. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (series), by Douglas Adams (1979-1992) 
  7. The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton (1967) 
  8. Anne of Green Gables (series), by Lucy Maud Montgomery (1908-1921) 
  9. Lord of the Flies, by William Golding (1954) 
  10. Flowers for Algernon, by Daniel Keyes (1966) 
  11. The Call of the Wild, by Jack London (1903) 
  12. Go Ask Alice, by Anonymous (1971) 
  13. A Separate Peace, by John Knowles (1959) 
  14. Dune, by Frank Herbert (1965) 
  15. The Dark is Rising (series), by Susan Cooper (1965-1977) 
  16. Forever..., by Judy Blume (1975) 
  17. The Song of the Lioness (series), by Tamora Pierce (1983-1988) 
  18. Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson (1883) 
  19. The House on Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros (1984) 
  20. Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury (1962) 
  21. The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier (1974) 
  22. A Ring of Endless Light, by Madeleine L'Engle (1980) 
  23. I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith (1948) 
  24. The Last Unicorn, by Peter S. Beagle (1968) 
  25. The Blue Sword, by Robin McKinley (1982) 
  26. The Hero and the Crown, by Robin McKinley (1984) 
  27. Betsy-Tacy Books (series), by Maud Hart Lovelace (1938-1955)
These stories have a lot in common (with one notable exception). I haven't read them all but, of the ones I've read, you get a highly artificial emotional crisis where stark decisions between right and wrong have to be made. You may say that some of them—To Kill a Mockingbird and A Separate Peace, to take two of the better books on the list—describe situations that are credible. And that is true but nothing like that was ever going to happen you you as a teenager was it?

The point is not that that sort of fiction is necessarily bad; it can be very good. The point is that if you are reading for the emotional charge that comes with that stark moral crisis, it doesn't have to be good in the same way that any old rotgut mixed with frozen grape juice will do if you are drinking to get drunk.

Not surprisingly, even on this relatively rarefied list, most of the books are the worse kind of hackery. We get the execrable Judy Blume for example. And Go Ask Alice a book that was actually a fraud—it's a faked diary of a supposed teenage drug addict—now read as fiction.

If one of my nieces and nephews asked me about these, I'd tell them that no great harm (beyond wasting a few hours of your life) could come from reading any book on the list but that only four have any real literary merit and one of those four is particularly good.  Three with literary merit are: To Kill a Mockingbird, A Separate Peace and Treasure Island.

 The really special one is Anne of Green Gables. It's given as a series here but, as is usually but not always the case with a series of novels, the first one is the one to read. And what makes it really special is that it reverses the usual teen fantasy. In it we have a heroine who craves the sort of emotional crisis with stark moral decisions that make up most teen books but is constantly denied such a thing by life which insists on making her into an adult who must make an adult choice between two goods. Even better, the book doesn't treat this progression from childhood to adulthood as an unalloyed good.

When you're a kid, you read the story of Anne growing up. Read it as an adult and you will see that it is really the story of Marilla Cuthbert and what she sacrificed. And it's a very sad but beautiful story when you read it again. No other book on that list has that depth.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Near noir Thursday: The Low Life

Another movie that isn't noir but shares a lot of noir characteristics. Really, the only thing missing is a murder. It features the perfect noir victim and he dies but he doesn't get killed, although the movie attributes guilt for his death.

Here is our hero:


That's an exterior of the building where he has his apartment. A lot of the scenes take place in his apartment. Others take place at work and yet others in a bar. The whole thing could have been done on stage and probably more convincingly.

Anyway, he looks like a noir hero. He wants to be a writer and he writes a letter to his Uncle Darr, who seems to have raised him in the absence opf any real father. Uncle Darr writes back,
Good to hear your plans. I know we'll have a writer in this family yet, no matter what your mother thinks. But don't forget, discipline and hard work are what counts. The petty seductions of this world are best left to other people.
As ever, Uncle Darr
Somehow, that advice gets translated into, "Don't care about other people and don't get involved in their lives anymore than you have to". How is that accomplished? My guess is that the people who made the movie think hard work and discipline are the mark of a cold, uncaring person.

And hard work and discipline went missing in the writing of this film. For example, the filmmaker, George Hickenlooper was a guy who grew up in St. Louis and then went to Yale and then went to LA to make it in the film business and the hero is a guy from St. Louis who went to Yale and then went to LA to make it in the film business.

There are some great shots of LA though. This is a gem:



If you look carefully in the foreground, just right of the highway, you can see the famous Capitol Records building. All covered in smog.

But, wait a minute, what year is this supposed to be? The movie was made in 1995 but LA hadn't seen smog like that for a long time by them. You have to go back to the 1970s to see smog like this. On the other hand, there are computers in one office scene, so maybe it's supposed to be the mid 1980s (not coincidentally, the same time our director was trying to make it in LA.) And then ... well, who cares, the film sucks. It could have been great but it isn't because it was made by people who have absolutely no understanding of humanity.

By the way, there are four Yale graduates in this movie all living the low life because this movie is set in that year when all the Yale grads couldn't get work so they had to wait tables or work for temp agencies. You remember that year right?

Lets talk women. Here is one, in a great bar shot worthy of noir,



That's Suzie. She's a Yale grad working as a waitress. She is young and beautiful and she ought to be happy except that her love life is a perpetual mess because she has an irrational attraction to British guys and so keeps closing the door on good bets for love.

Next girl,



That's Bevan. She is from the south (I think they told her to study Janis Joplin interviews to get her character down). She is young and beautiful and she ought to be happy except that her love life is a perpetual mess because she has an irrational attraction to French guys and so keeps closing the door on good bets for love.

There you have the breadth of humanity you find in this movie. After a while, I started thinking that maybe it would be a good thing to make all Yale grads work at crappy jobs with temp agencies because if this is an example of typical Yale competence, the world would be better place if they didn't get any real jobs.

Between them, Suzie and Bevan generate enough sex appeal to power a small tricycle, provided it is going downhill. In any case, you could eliminate both characters in their entirety because the movie is really about the relationship between these two guys:



The guy on the right is our hero and the guy on the left is Andrew who is this terminally geeky guy who tries to be our hero's friend but keeps getting brushed off because he is such a  weird little geek. And all our hero's friends mercilessly exploit Andrew. And then Andrew ends up dead and our hero finally gets that this was a human being and he failed to be his neighbour, in the biblical sense of neighbour.

Oh sorry, were you planning on watching it? Oh well, you didn't really want to see it anyway. Trust me.

After the death, our hero hitches a ride to Modesto to go to the funeral. And he cries at the grave side. He doesn't speak to anyone. He doesn't tell any of Andrew's family he is sorry for their loss. He just cries and feels sorry for himself. Because that is apparently moral development.

Our film maker, George Hickenlooper, also died by the way. He mixed a lot of alcohol and a lot of painkillers in his stomach and that, predictably, killed him. The coroner charitably called it an accidental overdose and we'll charitably assume he was right.

 There is one very nice touch at the ending. The minister at graveside reads from Ezekiel 34, wherein the LORD, speaking through the prophet, condemns the irresponsible shepherds.
And I will make with them a covenant of peace, and will cause the evil beasts to cease out of the land: and they shall dwell safely in the wilderness, and sleep in the woods.
 
And I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and I will cause the shower to come down in his season; there shall be showers of blessing.

And the tree of the field shall yield her fruit, and the earth shall yield her increase, and they shall be safe in their land, and shall know that I am the Lord, when I have broken the bands of their yoke, and delivered them out of the hand of those that served themselves of them.
All of which suggests that there was a good, and possibly even a great movie waiting to be made here. But it didn't get made.


Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Creeping rigorism

A regularly recurring theme in my life and, consequently, on this blog is the dangers of rigorism. I think rigorism is a heresy. The Catholic Church has never condemned it as such but it has also been careful never to endorse it either.

Rigorism is hard to define but easy to see. Compare these two quotes and you will see it:
  1. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbour as yourself.'
  2. Love your neighbour more than your own life.
The first is familiar from the Gospel according to Matthew. The second is from a sermon that was once attributed to Barnabas but whose author is now regarded as unknown. The move from "as yourself" to "more than your own life" is rigorism. This one line excepted, it's a great sermon.

The thing to note is that there are many cases where valuing your neighbour more than your own life is clearly admirable. Those who go to war for their country do this. More commonly, any loving husband or loving wife will sometimes value the needs of their spouse above their own. And any parent will do the same for their child.

The problem comes with making this a rule that should always apply in making moral choices. It one thing to occasionally make a  sacrifice by putting the needs of another above your own and another thing all together to make iot a moral law that you should always do this. (I won't go into it but any half-way clever person ought to be able to think of cases where loving your neighbour more than your own life is a bad thing.)

As I've said before, one of the big hints that this isn't a good approach to morality is that our enemies devote so much time to imposing it on us. They want us, as Christians, to all sell everything we own and give the profits to the poor not because they think this is a good thing to do, they have no intention of doing it themselves, but because they want to see us fail.

The pseudo-Barnabas readings comes from today's Office by the way. If we take the reading for the optional feast of Saint Dominic instead, we get this fascinating counter-balance:
He was a man of great equanimity, except when moved to compassion and mercy.
Equanimity means the calmness or composure from being well-balanced. This is something that is good for the person who has it. It is something that is good to have even if, to steal a line, all those around you lose it. You get it by taking care of yourself, which is to say by loving yourself. The only time Dominic abandoned that calm was when moved by compassion and mercy.

Note the obvious implication that Dominic was selective about these times. He was not moved by compassion and mercy all the time. Most of the time he was calm and composed even though he, like us, lived in a world filled with injustice. He even refused the chance to become bishop in order to maintain this calm. Let me give you that quote again in a larger context:
He was a man of great equanimity, except when moved to compassion and mercy. And since a joyful heart animates the face, he displayed the peaceful composure of a spiritual man in the kindness he manifested outwardly and by the cheerfulness of his countenance.
Take care of yourself and you will be a gift to others.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Happiness?

Instapundit links to a very good piece by Deirdre McCloskey about the ways we might define happiness. She talks about the perils of defining happiness in terms of how you feel right now rather than in terms of the longer story of your life.

It reminded me a of something that happened about thirty years ago. A woman I knew went to Queens and I was down in Kingston on Canadian Thanksgiving (Note to American readers, this is the same day as your Columbus Day) and I saw her. She was very upset with her roommates.

These roommates, all women, had been giving her a hard time because she had had five sexual partners between Frosh Week and that weekend. She said to me, "Everyone keeps telling me that I am hurting myself but I've never felt better about myself than I do now." I have no doubt she was telling the truth plain and simple. She probably felt just great.

The next thirty years of her life weren't so great.