Tuesday, June 29, 2004
dear diary
last night we went to hear david sedaris read at one of the borders in town....he's on one of the book tours that has become sooo popular these days. we didn't buy his book; he signed nothing for us. we just listened.
we did, however, buy a book on home repair. if ever i feel the need to take out the toilet and replace my porcelain throne with one of those that will take my temperature, weight and cholesterol level...with this book, i can.
he read excerpts from his diary at the end of the event, if you could call it that. what i mean by the disclaimer is that he is on a 24 city book-tour. most of those being one-night stands where he reads signs and moves on. even his diary is funny...granted, he culled the best pieces from about 3 years of diary entrys. still, they were really, really funny.
he made me want to take up keeping a journal again...and then he quickly cured me from my illusions of grandure. he is funny; i am not. funny things happen to him; they rarely happen to me. but more importantly, he knows how to embelish.
Monday, June 28, 2004
a movie event
At the late movie Sunday night, in a theater full of (mostly young) people eager to see what all the fuss was about, I watched
Fahrenheit 9/11. It was unnervingnot the movie, though that has its wrenching momentsbut the crowd. While kl parked the car, I went inside and met a line that stretched to the mall doors. It reminded me of going to see
The Return of the King, which I watched from the front row, my head painfully cricked to the right, because we were late to get in the theater. The bottom left corner of the screen is a strange place to watch Hobbitses work. It makes the Hobbitses larger than they are supposed to be, and it gives them angles that you never thought Hobbitses were supposed to have. I have yet to understand why I am such a sheep that I am willing to risk so much personal discomfort at the theater. After all, there's nothing in fact eventual about "events" that happen four or five times per day for weeks on end like movies do. To wait a week is often to see a film in near-privacy. And Lord knows I don't go to these things because I like to be around people. But I go anyway, and what do I have to show for it but a ticket stub and a memory, unfortunately made sour by a stiff neck and begrudged heart. Our seats last night were not bad, however, in spite of the crowds.
I will always remember the opening credits to Bowling for Columbine as a smart bit of filmaking. It's not just the 1970s-era stock television footage of bowlers throwing strikes and spares that's brilliant. What makes it good is Michael Moore's soundtrack juxtaposition of that footage with Teenage Fanclub's version of "Take the Skinheads Bowling." (A song which I had long forgotten though I once knew it in another Camper Van Beethoven context.) From the innocence of bowling promos to the suspicion of skinheads, from the memory of TV footage from Columbine to the ironic story that Klebold and Harris went bowling that morning, there's a symbolic resonance in that A/V punchline that shoots through the movie, even, perhaps, overshadowing the movie altogether. In that title sequence, Moore entangles innocence with danger, causality with absurdity, and in doing so he reads aloud an important chapter of day-to-day American political life. And Moore always wants to read that chapter. You can take apart the means which he uses to get therein some cases damninglybut it seems to me all of Moore's work, no matter the subject, is in search of that elusive chapter.
Fahrenheit 9/11 is vintage Michael Moore as it searches for the same chapter. The crick in his neck, you might say, is a permanent one, and it is always evident in the narrative that he constructs. That narrative sometimes stems from the deeply personal, as in the superb Roger and Me. Sometimes that narrative comes out of what seems sincere intellectual puzzlement, such as in the preliminary questions of Bowling for Columbine, but the telling of that puzzlement can alternately reveal both sharp insight and profound narcissism. Always his narratives share with two roughly equal assumptions:
- Money tells the story of power, and vice versa; and
- Those who have neither money nor power are both noble and tragic, and for that reason they are worthy.
Moore is a demagogue whose populist sentiments profoundly influences his judgment, but his demagoguery is absolute, so his judgment is at least true. (In the sense that "true" means "straight.") By his narrative Moore both chokes and thrives.
Fahrenheit 9/11 tells a story of the last four years that is both less narcissistic than his previous films and more politically charged because, rather than take on the head of General Motors or of the National Rifle Association, this time he takes on the head of state. In following trails of money and catching up with the unempowered (who eventually end up being represented by the folks of Flint, Michigan), Moore seeks to tell the same symbolic moment over and over again. In roughly this order the film poses question after question:
- How did George W. Bush in the 1980s continue to profit from the oil companies he headed in spite of the fact those companies failed?
- Who does fear benefit when all knowledge of what should be feared is known by the storyteller?
- Why did the FBI think it necessary to infiltrate and investigate a peace group in a small town in Oregon?
- What is "Homeland Security" when police budgets are cut and whole coastlines go unwatched?
- What does "support our troops" mean when Veterans' benefits are cut and soldiers are left for longer and longer periods out to dry in the desert?
- What is a mother's pride worth when she doesn't understand why her son died?
- And, finally, why do the powerless have to pay the greatest price for the empowered?
In these questions, and in the answers Moore offers to them (and sometimes, he has his answers already-picked before he ever asks a question), Moore does what he has always done. He tells a story about how money and power is always invested in money and power, and in that race for money and power, people are forgotten, overrun, destroyed. For better or worse Moore considers George W. Bush the runner in that money/power race most visible and most easily caughtparticularly in an election year.
Perhaps the greatest irony of it all is that in very certain terms Moore's argument stems from the same things that drive Bush and many conservatives. Freed money, runs the conservative line, allows individuals to invest, to give back to the economy, create jobs, invent prosperity. This is a claim which asserts that we put our money where our hearts are. Such is the driving theory behind futures markets, whether the one the Pentagon was forced to scrap last year, or the one that wagers on election futures. These markets work on the assumption that if you follow the money, you find the power, because people as a rule do not throw away their money. (The Iowa Electronic Markets, by the way, still put Bush at a commanding lead in the upcoming presidential election.) In the same way, in Fahrenheit 9/11 Michael Moore makes his case for money's influence on government.
Anyway, watching Moore's films reminds me of the art to Eisenstein's Steps. Filmmaking is an art of juxtaposition and of sequence, of sound and vision. Agree with how he uses it or not, Moore has a talent for filmic narration. With film he cajoles with the persuasive lips of Brutus. And I saw its effect last night: When the movie was over, one young man, sitting somewhere behind us, exclaimed, "I want to vote right now!"
Saturday, June 26, 2004
my mexican teachers
along with trying to get the dissertation in...i have been helping out with a mexican cultural immersion program. the goverment of mexico pays mexican teachers to fan out across the u.s. and teach the children of immigrant workers the history and culture of mexico in spanish.
one of the profs where i work set it up for them to come here and i have been handling the interns. 4 college kids that study spanish keep a daily journal and write 1 poem a week about their experiences.
it's been interesting. the male teacher is very mexican (as in the female teacher, but the male is mexican in a way that is offensive to u.s. sensibilities). he's given to very sexually charged puns...and gives preferential treatment to the boys. this has caused both the girls and at least one of the guys some consternation. it all came to a head for the girls the day that the teachers handed out embroidery projects for the girls and not the boys. the girl interns went through the roof. this didn't and doesn't bother me as much as the not learning the girls' names and the constant sexual undertone to his conversation. the reason it doesn't bother me is, despite my feminist ways, these kids live in a subculture of u.s. cultural life that has very definite ideas of gender roles and work. and though i think that the boys that come would be better off if they learned true respect for girls rather than the hypocritical respect offered in many patriarchal societies (don't mess with my moma, nor my wife, they are saints...but let me keep my lover on the side kind of crap), i don't think having a 12 year-old boy embroider, when very likely neither the father nor the mother will view this as progressive, or even self-expressive, will do much to tear down the "machismo" of hispanic culture.
another interesting thing that came out today was that they told me that they as teachers make 4.50 an hour...the skilled hispanic construction worker in the ATL currently can make 15-18 an hour, the unskilled 8.
well, later more tales of mexican identity.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
this old house
Just before his telephone beeped to death, I was talking to Jeremy yesterday during his post-defense euphoria about
Colonial House. I said that I thought that the colonists never seemed to get into the spirit of colonization. They always seemed too self-conscious of their acting parts. They certainly weren't as gung-ho as the people of
Frontier House. Jeremy pointed out that the academics (the pastor, who eventually became the governor after the Texas Baptist was returned to England, and his wife) seemed to function like heat sinks, sucking all the cheer and warmth from whatever room they were in. If he was at all representative of colonial ministers (Jonathan Edwards & Cotton Mather testify that he is not!) it is no wonder Salem jazzed up Masachussets Bay with witch trials.
When the phone died, we were wondering what series they might produce next. With the colony and the frontier they really hit two of the most iconic households of American history. "June Cleaver House" is still too fresh in everyone's memory, as is the aftershock of
The Feminine Mystique. I've been contemplating that question today, and one possibility that springs to mind is (nineteenth-century) "Georgia Plantation House," which might at first seem a little touchy, what with the slaves, but could be awfully fun to watch if you screw with the casting (which the producers have certainly been willing to do). I thought about "Future House," but I think that would probably just prove to be another Epcot.
I suppose there could be the parallel "Poor House" or "Depression House," but either could easily be too much
Great Expectations or not enough
Grapes of Wrath. The next official show is "Regency House." I may yet try to convince kl that we need to apply to the cast.
As for me and my house, two weeks ago at three o'clock in the morning we awoke to the crashing of plaster. Yep, you guessed it! Our ceiling fell in, and the fallen sheet rock just missed our bed (and a cat) by a whisker. (I'll try to post a photo of the hole soon.) That fateful crash set in motion a chain of events that is still going on: these days, early in the morning roofers come to scrape away old shingles and hammer in new; soon, new plasterers will come to fill the hole; later, our landlady will meet with us to discuss raising our rent.
Sigh. Sometimes I think that to know the indentured feel of colonial life, all one has to do is rent in a Big Ten college town.
And this Big Ten College still is my death. I have little desire to continue my work. More on that later. But suffice it to say, though much of it revolves around the American Frontier, at the moment, I'd rather concentrate on a specific Frontier Thing. I posted a couple of weeks ago a link to the "Last Will and Testament of the Springfield Presbytery." It's an important document for those of us who come from and/or still remain in the Church of Christ or Disciples of Christ. It was the first overture by Barton W. Stone to seek out primitive Christianity. Signed June 28, 1804, that document marks the beginnings of the Stone-Campbell movement; in other words, the American roots of our church turn 200 this year.
I guess the most austere part of the celebration is happening at
Cane Ridge, but my church here in Iowa City is doing its part too. We're hosting a "Camp Meeting" of sorts on Saturday that reaches, most remarkably, across the S-C movement. We've got a cappella CoC speakers and Disciples speakers and Independent CoC speakers and we've invited everybody else.
Indeed, there may be a story about us in the
Christian Chronicle (probably) in August.
The Defense
My schpeel went on for about 30 minutes. Then the questions. The English guy was really nice. He asked some questions about connections between English poetry and Spanish poetry. Nothing too heavy. The Colonialist asked some really good questions as well. I wrote a number of them down…but honestly it’s such a blur that I don’t remember much. I felt as though I had cotton in my mouth. Everybody else says I did a great job. I think the truth might lie somewhere in between.
A friend of mine in English came by because he was curious; he’d never been to a defense…they don’t do them here in English. He called the DGS a tool…and she really asked inane questions. T and I invited my advisor over to dinner to thank him; he said that he did even really understand any of the DGS's questions. He says she has become less and less intelligible the older she has gotten…and the problem is that she doesn’t have the eloquence she has in Spanish to hide the fact that she simply doesn’t make any sense.
So, they have recommended a number of changes...however, once these are done, my advisor says he doesn't see any reason why this project couldn't be sent straight to an editor. He recommended Bucknell because the editor is a practicing Xian and very interested in these kinds of topics. This came as quite a shock to me because it seemed so disjointed to me.
N-E way...best of luck to the belgian hermits as they move back (BTW, I sent Dr. L an email and he let me know that C and MB have successfully defended their dissertations and are going to be teaching in at Oh-Whatta-Cheatah and that they have made him a happy grandpa. So, kudos to C and MB and R for warming the cockles of his heart.)
It's strange to think that yesterday I was a bumbling, cotton mouthed fool, and that today I am a fool with a Phid.
I wish I could give a better play by play of the whole affair...but it really isn't an affair to remember.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
weekend update
this weekend we went to northwestern dutch-speaking belgium, only minutes from france. we visited a town called ieper (or ypres, in frenchmany towns in belgium have two names (e.g., brussel or bruxelles... or brussels in english)) that had been completely obliterated during WWI. over half a million people had been killed in the battles around this one little town. it was the first place that gas attacks had been used, and there were many horrible stories about that. on the whole, it was heart-wrenching.
however, flemish people have cool eyeglasses. and m.b. got her hair cut really short in a flemsih hair salon (because rose kept pulling it!). belgium is crazy in that it is like two completely different countries. i'm not sure in which half i'd prefer to live. i used to think i liked the french-speakers infinitely better, but, in an appealing way, the flemish are anal and laid-back at the same time.
yesterday we visited with some people we knew in amherst who now live in belgium. they have three kids, ranging from ages 3 to 10 years. even the youngest can speak fluent german, english, and french. however, she doesn't quite understand that not everyone can speak all three, so she switches somewhat at random. i found it surprisingly easy to interpret 3-year-old German in context, though.
Saturday, June 12, 2004
DISS-content
i miss the days of early '90's criticism when everybody went way over board on titles (they still do, of course, but not in the same way)...as in this lovely doozie “Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz: Or, The Snares of (Con)(tra)Di(c)tion.” the parenthesis amaze me.
(yeah, as in thesis...i lie, i misspelled it. now i'm trying to (un)cover my tracks.)
any way, my title... discontent, or dissertation content, or diss the content of the dissertation, or...
my advisor wants me to rethink my first chapter. it's on lope de vega's poetry. the rest of the dissertation looks at movements away from God in religious poetry and drama (though, the second chapter is not on a generically "religous" in the least. however, my contention is that lope parodies augustine in the drama the chapter examines.)
anyway, he wants me to reconsider it because in the religious collection i look at i don't see any real "problems"...which for him means, it must not be interesting. 'cuz if it is moving into God then by definition this is not interesting.
so, i am working on setting it up so that the second chapter "addresses" this problem of nothing interesting happening in the poetry. in part, it could be the frame. that is, i compare his first and second collection of petrarchan poetry. the first collection of poetry is worldly poetry in the petrarchan mode, so it is imitative...but he wreaks havoc on the tradition by flaunting it and actively resisting the strictures it places upon the poet. however, in the religious collectionwhich is the palinode, or verse recantation, to the previous worldly collection, he is utterly reverent. (so it sets up the chapter as 2 examples of imitative poetry, one which is unfaithful and the other is faithful...the problem for me is that i am supposedly looking at "problems in religious poetry").
but, his display of poetic virtuosity is shown precisely by how reverent he is. sure, most of the collection is a lamentation of past sins, there is not narrative movement into God, per se, just an excess of tears...but, i don't see an excess of tears as something that inherently moves away from God. also, he seems to write about himself when he writes a sonnet on paul's conversion and one on augustine's (the themes he takes upbelated conversion, lust of human beauty, and dedication of one's pen to God, are part of his own poetry and his treatment of these two saints) but even this isn't necessarily overtly problematic. he might, in these poems, desire the same kind of fame through his writing as they, but it also is a fame solely tied to the "usefulness" of the collection as a devotional reader. i don't see this as all that problematic either. yes, the desire for worldly fame is there; however, it is much more attenuated than in the previous collection. in fact, it is always subordinated to the collection being offered to God.
so, that is what i am doing...finding something that better connects chapter 1 and 2 than what i previously had. i now turn it in on monday or tuesday....the defense has been moved from friday the 18th by the DGS, though everybody else on the committee told me that they were fine getting it on tuesday. they told me that they weren't going to read it until 2 days before anyway. so, now, i am trying to set up the defense for wednesday or thursday of the following week (23rd or 24th)
have fun all ya'll
Monday, June 07, 2004
Sunday, June 06, 2004
200 years
this is important. June 28, 2004 marks its 200th anniversary. more later.
