Monday, June 18, 2007

Stupid Summer Project: The Foundation, the Soul Mate

Last summer, I read three biographies of Martin Luther to explore Luther himself, his time, Protestantism, and the nature of biography.

Apparently, I've dumbed this blog down a bit. This summer's stupid project: rewatch every episode of Seinfeld through season 8 (when DVDs are available), though not necessarily in order, and blog the experience. I'm providing amusing lines without context or comment (for now), and I'll also provide a brief comment on the episode. It's about time I more thoroughly comment on the show which has has such an obsessive influence on me. I hope to eventually provide a top-10 list of George's best cheapness moments.

The Foundation
George: "It was a hell of a thing when Spock died"

Jerry: "Before we go any further, I'd just like to point out how disturbing it is that you equate eating a block of cheese with some sort of bachelor paradise."

Comment: this is the first episode after Larry David left the show. The tone changed without him, and the last two seasons are not as good as the seasons he was there. There's a certain inanity gone, and a certain conventional nature added. It's still a good show, but you can tell something is lost. As we will see, after Larry David left, George Costanza became less neurotic and more angry.

The Soul Mate
Jerry: "So Elaine was telling me about this piece of whitefish she had the other day..."

George: "Elaine, I once told a woman I coined the phrase, 'Pardon my French.'"

Comment: the show continues to find its way without Larry David. It struggles at first, I feel, but after a few episodes of flailing about, it does find a new and still very good rhythm eventually. This is a treading water episode.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Both/And

1.
Here is what I have written in the margin of Harold Bloom's "Shakespeare's Universalism":

Does this locate "universalism" in the male consciousness? Does this make it universal masculinity, 50% of universalism? Should women read Shakespeare from this "universalism," i.e., from the male perspective? Does this universalism require a woman to read Shakespeare not as herself, but as a man? A reading not her own, but a "universal" male's?

I can accept Harold Bloom's universalism for Shakespeare--if we add in the Reader-response approach he occasionally hints at. To ask a reader--any reader--to read Shakespeare from a universal perspective is essentially to ask a reader to read Shakespeare as Harold Bloom. But to allow the reader to read Shakespeare authentically as himself, or as herself, allows Shakespeare's truth to truly be read.

2.
When Bloom casts his animosity at contemporary academic literary theory, a condescending arrogance shows through. He requires Shakespeare to be read as he reads Shakespeare, and sees other readings as the downfall of academia.

But I exist reading Shakespeare as Bloom would want, looking for the humanity, the universal themes, the truths of the cosmos, the depth of character.

And I also exist reading Shakespeare within the context of any theory you'd like: Marxism, Feminism, Queer Theory, or anything else.

Both/And.

I do not need to read Shakespeare solely as Bloom wishes me to. And I do not need to read Shakespeare solely as an ideological theorist would have me read Shakespeare. I read Shakespeare with both consciousnesses informing my reading. I read for the spiritual fulfillment, and yet I exist within the realm of ideological theory.

I can do both. To ignore either would give me, I feel, a weaker reading. A weaker experience. Bloom's aestheticism does not exist for me as a mutual exclusive mode of reading experience from contemporary literary theory.

Harold Bloom on Shakespeare

I'm not sure anybody is as capable of hyperbole and bombast as Bloom writing on his god, Shakespeare. The following passage from Shakespeare: the Invention of the Human," is more the rule than the exception:

"He is a system of northern lights, an aurora borealis visible where most of us will never go. Libraries and playhouses (and cinemas) cannot contain him; he has become a spirit or 'spell of light,' almost too vast to comprehend."

There's something inspiring about such passion.

How I roll

I don't listen to much music at all, and I pay no attention to contemporary popular music. Instead, periodically I "discover" a new musical, and I listen to the soundtrack, and nothing else, over and over again for months. That's how I roll. 2006 was a great year as I went from The Producers to Jesus Christ Superstar to Wicked. But I haven't bought a new musical soundtrack to repeatedly listen to in almost a year.

I've been looking. I keep thinking about different soundtracks and listening to samples. A few years ago, when my dad was picking out a car, I think he must have taken 20 test drives, sometimes in the same car. I thought it was crazy. But that was an expense of thousands of dollars; I'm trying to pick out a CD that at the absolute most is going to cost me $40, and I can't pin down a decision (but then, I'm a notorious cheapskate).

Are there any recommendations? I've been thinking about Phantom of the Opera or Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat (but I'd like to get away from Webber a bit), and I'm almost ready to buy Les Miserables. I'm also thinking about Bye Bye Birdie, a play I saw around ten years ago and thought was funny.

Does anybody have any recommendations? I prefer musical theater from the past three decades, but I would be willing to try just about any showtunes.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Another take on Minneapolis Beggars

"Minneapolis in trouble? Then bash the beggars" by Nick Coleman

Coleman writes of the targetting of panhandlers as a distraction from bigger issues, as a shift to an easy target. He also looks at "upscale kinds of begging" that we do allow.

I would like to note that I try very hard to stay out of political discussions in the blogosphere. However, I will often write about social issues, occasionally about religious issues, and I do address ethical and moral issues. I'm commenting on treatment of beggars because I see it as a moral issue, not because in this case it is a political issue, too. When I use a blog to condemn war, it is because I am an ethical pacifist, not because I am trying to be an anti-war partisan. I used to write at a blog where I would talk about the evils of war and torture, not because I wish to be political, but because I see war and torture and moral evils to be condemned (if you want another case of hypocrisy, I don't understand how anybody worshiping a lord that was wrongfully tortured and executed could possibly argue in favor of torture in any circumstances).

Thursday, June 14, 2007

On pacifism

Question: if a man was coming toward my son to try and harm him, would I fight him to protect my son?

Answer: if I was incapable of running away, yes, I would fight to protect my son.

Question: if a man was coming toward my son to try and harm him, and he was running through a crowd of innocent people, would I throw explosives into the crowd to prevent the man from hurting my son?

Answer: No: while I would justly defend and protect my innocent son, I should not commit a violent act that harms other innocent people in the process.

And this is a part of my pacifism. It is not that I believe limited violence for self-defense is wrong. It is that war is a larger-scale level of violence that always leads to innocent people being killed and harmed. If you are willing to support a war, you are de facto supporting innocent people being hurt: that is simply the nature of modern warfare.

Great human suffering is an inherent aspect of war. War must always be an absolutely necessary last resort; it should never be entered in choice.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Christian hypocricy

Let’s talk about the Strib’s Katherine Kersten’s latest column “The future of downtown is threatened by beggars.”

Columnists have relative freedom on the subjects they wish to comment on. Sometimes they express their views not so much in explicitly stated opinions, but in the stories they focus on or the people they interview.

It’s quite obvious from the tone and subject matter in this column that Kersten is sympathetic to the view of people who want to remove beggars from downtown Minneapolis. You can tell because she talks to specific people with this view (Sam Grabarski, Paul Ostrow, and George Kelling) and presents their statements. She doesn’t talk to people with a different view: she merely calls them “opponents.” You can also tell the writer's view with word choice: in Kersten's column, beggars "accost" people, try to "extort money;" other people are "harassed" by beggars, and "feel captive to importuning beggars." Homeless beggars are the threat in such word choice, and non-homeless people--the people Kersten is obviously sympathetic to in this column--are the victims.

We can assume that the ideas she’s presenting, then, are hers, even if somebody else is actually providing the ideas. She’s the one talking to these people and writing a column about what they say: she’s making the choice to present this viewpoint.

Now, one can expect a conservative columnist to condemn beggars and homeless people, and to put the interests of the use of downtown by the affluent and middle class above those of a poor beggar. In Kersten's column, panhandlers are a "nuisance" and threaten "the quality of life" of downtown (quality of life for people who aren't homeless beggars, obviously--I'm not sure Kersten cares about their quality of life at all). But Kersten is also a writer that frequently champions the cause of religion in social issues and human life (at least, she seems to here, here, here, here, and here. Well, at least Christianity--she's not quite so pleased with Muslim practice in public life, as you can see here or here).

As a columnist so interested in the interests of Christianity in society, I wonder if she’s familiar with Jesus’s statements on poor people?

In the gospels, Jesus repeated tells listeners to give to the poor, to help the needy, to not turn away from those that ask of you. Again and again, he tells us that the godly help the poor. Somebody asks you for something? Give it to him or her. Would Jesus tell us that the beggars should be removed from a downtown area for any reason? Would Jesus recommend stricter laws to remove beggars from public areas? How would Jesus respond to this?:

“In Minneapolis, a recent survey confirmed that panhandlers often use donations to buy drugs and alcohol, says Ostrow. Giving to them might seem compassionate, he says, but it frequently just encourages self-destructive behavior.”

I don’t recall Jesus saying “If a beggar asks for money, don’t give it to him because he might use it for drugs or alcohol.” Jesus didn’t put qualifiers on anything: he said that if poor people ask anything of you, you should give. He told many parables about helping the needy among us. He never qualified. He commanded we help the poor. He never talked about being "accosted" or "harassed" by beggars; he never suggested beggars "extort" from you or make you feel unjustly "captive."

Katherine Kersten, do you agree with what Jesus said, that we should give to beggars? Or do you agree with laws to remove this “nuisance”? Do you think Jesus was telling us the truth when he told us the poor are blessed or criticized those who ignore the needs of the poor? Or do you agree with “the proposed rules [that] would ban panhandling at night, along with verbal solicitation of money within 10 feet of a crosswalk, where people feel captive to importuning beggars”?

In "John Donne the Divine and Mundane," Yoshiko Fujito says of John Donne, a brilliant poet and also an Anglican preacher, "Donne's violent dislike of beggars and vagabonds is well known [...] His eyes were always directed toward the upper stratum of society, nobility, and Court. Conversely he violently disliked beggars and vagabonds [...] This attitude may appear to clash with Christian teachings, but shows his absorption in himself..."

Monday, June 11, 2007

Is it over?

"Box Office for Horror Movies Is Weak, Verging on Horrible" by Michael Cieply.

I'm not sure anybody enjoyed the resurgence of the horror genre in the past 5-10 years more than me.

And I'm not sure anybody got sicker of it than me. It was great...so great, that everything else had to be exactly the same. It all got derivative, unoriginal, and dull. And it also shifted from plot/fear/suspense to gore.

If it's over, good. Let it die and come back to life when somebody comes along ready to do something fresh.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

Commentary on the final episode of The Sopranos, which I have not seen.

SADIE: DON'T READ THIS. ANYBODY ELSE THAT DOESN'T WANT TO KNOW HOW THE SOPRANOS ENDS: DON'T READ THIS. THERE MAY BE SPOILERS.

I don't get HBO. I have not seen the finale of The Sopranos. I watched the first six and a half seasons of the show on DVD, and haven't seen any of the episodes in part two of season six.

I can only comment on what I have read happened, and on the commentary I have read about what has happened.

But there's a joke in this blog's title, a joke that nobody has ever cared enough to get: when George Costanza was in a book club, he didn't read the book.

So I'm commenting.

I've read about the final scene at Wikipedia. At various blogs through Google Blog Search, I've read two general commentaries, and I would like to comment on both versions.

1. Positive and negative reaction to an ambiguous, open-ended, non-resolute ending.

I don't see what is wrong with the human desire for resolution and finality; what's wrong with wanting a clear-cut ending? As Jerry Seinfeld says, "If I wanted a long boring story with no point to it, I've got my life." We don't usually get clear answers or resolutions in our lives; it's one reason we turn to art and entertainment. There's nothing wrong with wanting finality, conclusion, answer. There's a justifiable disappointment when our desire for a simple resolution is thwarted--and there's no reason we should be judged negatively for that.

2. Even though they didn't show it, Tony Soprano was killed; the signs are there that he is dead.

At the end of John Fowles' The Magus, you don't really know if Nicholas and Allison get back together. It's ambiguous. However, the novel closes with a Latin phrase speaking positively about love. It may be (as I believe Fowles himself has suggested) that the meaning of that Latin phrase itself gives away the real ending.

And that may be. You may think you see something without a clear final ending, but if you look closely at the signs, you actually get a pretty clear answer about the ending.

And I hope Tony Soprano is dead; that's the ending I want.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Why you should hate me

I don't get HBO.

(no, that's not the reason you should hate me).

But I watched the first six and a half seasons of The Sopranos over a 2-3 month period this winter. Since I don't get HBO, I haven't been able to watch these final episodes of the series.

So I've been following what happens on Wikipedia.

(that's the reason you should hate me).

I could have waited until the DVDs to come out to learn how the series ends, but I didn't. First of all, it would be futile: just from living my life normally, somebody would spoil events for me. I've learned about some of the things that have happened by reading sports blogs, listening to the radio, and flipping channels on TV. So there's really no point in trying not to know anything for months, because it would fail.

But even if it would succeed, I wouldn't do it.

Because I want to know what happens. Knowing the story is more important to me than actually watching the story unfold. Even if I just read episode summaries at Wikipedia, I am hearing the story--which was the real pleasure of watching for me, anyway. I don't need to watch it as it unfolds to appreciate it. I just want to know what happens. I want to know how the story ends. And I don't care how I learn: what matters in this case is not how I experience the story, but that I get to know the story.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Poetry about Art

I've been reading a lot of poetry the last few days, looking for more poems to add to my "Types of Literature" syllabus. In particular, I'm looking for poems that are themselves about art and literature. Here's what I've got so far just from The Riverside Anthology of Literature:

Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn"
Shelley's "Ozymandias"
Rilke's "Archaic Torso of Apollo"
Raine's "Statues"
Stevens' "Anecdote of the Jar"
Moore's "Poetry"
Auden's "Musee des Beaux Arts"
Kumin's "At a Private Showing in 1982"

Any other recommendations?

Monday, June 04, 2007

Generalizations

Poetry is the spirit of literature, a mystical connection.

Drama is the life of literature, always living and breathing and a part of us.

And Prose fiction is the clunky purposeful reflections based on the mud and clay of this earth.