Category: Reviews


 

henryjames

Photo: Henry James

“Pretty pre-socialite May Marcy McClellan’s father had run for president against Abraham Lincoln in 1864 and later became governor of New Jersey. Her brother would, in 1904, become the mayor of New York City and beat William Randolph Hearst for his second term; he had “drifted” into politics, as his Times obituary hilariously put it, upon becoming close with Tammany Hall figures while a politics reporter. Which is to say, she was fancy.” — more —

via Henry James’ The Reverberator, reviewed. – Slate Magazine.

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When I think of gun culture in America, I spin off to the Wild West and that makes me think of the book(1949) and movie called “Shane”(1953). Book and film merge in my mind.  Shane can only look like Alan Ladd.  Shane is the laconic, reluctant gunfighter,  a man with shadows living in the shadows of silence.  In the book he doesn’t even tote a gun until after the real danger has arrived. One feels this kind, dangerous man wants to retreat from some earlier, deep melancholy of his own. He’s trapped in his past.  ”A man is what he is,”  Shane says to Joey(the little boy played by Brandon DeWilde), ” and there’s no breaking the mold.  I tried that and I’ve lost.” *

 

And in the uncivilized West, Wyoming Territory in particular, self and home defense were absolute necessities.  The Joe Starrett (Van Heflin) family, homesteaders, live out on the plains, a hundred miles from a sheriff.  And while the Indian threat doesn’t seem to be serious in this story, a farmer still needs firearms for hunting, varmint control and self-preservation in an essentially lawless land.  The looming threat here is Ryker and his hired cowboys.  Ryker is acattleman who wants to rid the range of sod busters so he can create his cattle empire.  Sooner or later fear will becomes palpablel in the person of the gunfighter, Jack Wilson. No one could play stark evil better than Jack Palance.

 

In the book the first suggestion of guns appears when Joey Starrett starts to help Shane stow his gear.  Shane quickly relieves the boy of his saddle roll in which  Shane’s grand, single action Colt is wrapped. And later when Joey is playing with an old broken down Colt, Shane says, “Listen, Joey, a gun is just a tool.  No better and no worse than any other tool, a shovel — or an axe or a saddle or a stove or anything. Think of it always that way.  A man is as good and as bad as the man who carries it.”  Of course, Shane has become an awesome model for Joey.

 

Shane the reluctant, anti-hero boasts only once when he wants to dissuade Joe Starrett from taking on the gunfighter Wilson.  Shane’s gun is a fact of life and an icon of Shane’s very being — but nothing to be worshiped.  In the end after Shane triumphs  he refers to the gun he has just used as a “good tool.” Here is the epitome of a good man with a gun.  He is not a paranoid or a romantic avenger.  Good Shane’s gun is a good tool — like the axes he and Joe Starrett use to passionately remove an old tree stump and like the stove Marian Starret(Jean Arthur) uses to bake her apple pie — especially after the failure of her first effort. In some ways the stove is a very effective weapon against rampant testosterone in the Starrett home.  We all have good tools.

 

Having viewed the film many times, I’ve finally read the book. Until recently I did not  know the film was based on Jack Shaefer’s novel.  Anyone who enjoys the film, should read the novel. Neither is better than the other.   They are different and both are superb, simple, classical works.  If I needed a good man with a gun, it would be Shane.  I would want him to come back and ride by my side.  Violence in “Shane” amounts to verbal bullying, fist fighting and one final gun duel.  Good wins. Bad loses. Bullying gets its comeuppance.  And yet, Shane, expert gunfighter himself, projects a grim outlook on violence.  The justness of his cause cannot be denied. Rancher and gunfighter deserved their fates.

 
But this is art and a far cry from some stupid, raging domestic shooting in a kitchen between feuding spouses. It has nothing to do with a gun left carelessly within reach of a child.  I can’t imagine Shane using his gun under the influence of anything but his skill, principle and will. Shane’s gun is not an indispensable extension of his ego. In fact Shane would forsake gun fighting if he could. A gun in “Shane” has noble use.  At the same time there’s reality in the despicable meanness, ambition and greed that threatens a prairie village.  Only a gun can clean it up.
* I refer to the book and use quotations  from it.

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“Monuments and memorials today are discursive, sentimental, addicted to narrative literalism, and asking to be judged on good intentions rather than visual coherence. This change began, ironically, with a critique of the overwrought memorials of the Victorian era. In reaction, the first generation of modern architects decided that we needed an entirely different vocabulary of monuments. So when modernism went about dislodging the structures of traditional society, culture, religion, and the political and social order, it also began dispensing with the arches and columns that paid tribute to that order. This was not easy, however, because modernism was concerned with the future and monuments are retrospective.”  . . . more

via Hillsdale College – Imprimis.

Copyright © 2012 Hillsdale College.

The opinions expressed in Imprimis are not necessarily the views of Hillsdale College. Permission to reprint in whole or in part is hereby granted, provided the following credit line is used: “Reprinted by permission from Imprimis, a publication of Hillsdale College.”

 

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As I browsed new books at my library, I had first and second thoughts about reviewing John Barth’s Every Third Thought. God, Barth again? Do I really want to? Do I really want to visit the floating enigma again? The man must be in his eighties. Well, shit, you’re and old fart, too; try him one more time. He’s teased you for years, why not once more?

So, I checked out the book, for reasons probably as inexplicable as my decision to write a Master’s thesis on Barth back in 1970. Oh, I’ve dabbled in Barth since then; but one cannot really dabble in this author any more than he can dabble in James Joyce — not if you are a just reader. I didn’t know this when my thesis adviser voiced some reservations about the use of my time. “Study Swift instead,” he said. But back then, I was an artist, too. We were all creative sophomores.

It’s a small book, but still capable of delivering moments of boredom as Giles Goat Boy delivered in spades. (I learned to like Giles.) And George Giles redeemed himself, just as G.I.N. did. After all, the Barthian experience is still an aesthetic one. In Barth there’s probably a reason for boring dear reader — just as Anastasia’s violent rape had its purpose in Giles. This latest story tells us about G. I. Newitt (G.I.N.) and his wife/muse Amanda Todd, an English professor, boys and girls exploring each other in the attic and somebody’s fascination with coincidental events linked to the number 77; the seasons, both calendar and philosophic. The surprise ending for the first time in my reading of Barth, brought me close to tears. Passion and sorrow amidst the meta-fictional caper make a very conventional statement in the work of this unconventional, original writer. Growing old is no caper.

What still remains in Barth are the auto-biographical hints, no sooner given than fused into some other purpose or effect. Who is John Barth and where is Barth’s Barth? Where has the Narrator gone now? The reader still knows that while he’s reading a masterpiece, he’s also captured by a master magician (Prospero?). There’s no breaking the Barthian code which a young graduate student thought he might do over forty years ago. Barth is a writer’s writer, assuredly and a determined reader’s rubik’s cube.

Read it, but if you read it, read it twice, thrice or more. As usual, Barth is no quick read.

Thank you, Professor Barth, for your floating enigmas,

David Milliken

 

 

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Drawing by Carolyn Milliken

My favorite baseball team and sports team all around is the Kansas City Royals. They have been through many tough years of late, with only one winning season since 1994. I was too young when the Royals won the World Series in 1985, so most of my memories are full of losing. But, I still love them.

via The Kansas City Royals – Poem.

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I was in Mike Company at Navy OCS in Newport, RI, when I heard the news of Kennedy’s assassination.  Mike Company was about to march somewhere.  Mimi Alford was in a car with her fiance headed off to visit her parents in New Jersey.  Astonishment, grief, but most of all, profound isolation struck her.  She had no one to share her grief with.

Alford and I were just about the same age.  She had gone to Miss. Porter’s finishing school and Wheaton College.  Being of Social Register ilk Mimi was a debutante.  The only commonality might have been our growing up in a large house in the country and a private childhood.  Her family like mine was comfortable, but not rich.  My stepmother would have given one of her appendages to be listed in the Social Register. Mimi became a White House intern.  I worked in a German tire factory, bummed around Europe and went to sea.

My wife read Mimi’s confession first and peeked my interest.  What affected me most was  a renewed perception of how naive I was in the those years. This is no chick beach read.  A child of the sophisticated Eastern culture, Mimi was a virgin.  Think Hayley Mills here. Thanks to the vulgarities of boy talk in a rural, country school, I heard the smut that passed for sex education in those days;  but I was a virgin, too.  To listen to the boys, I was the only one who wasn’t “gettin’ any.”  Truth is, most of us were not, even up in the hay mow.   The guys really were most excited about basketball.  The so-called liberation of the Sixties really did not happen until the Seventies — perhaps after Kent State when America lost another kind of virginity.

From the time JFK pushed her down on that White House bed until she refused oral sex with brother Ted Kennedy, Mimi complied with the activities, captivated by the President’s bewitching charisma and the passing scene of high level politics. White House buzz entranced the coed. Mimi was a voyeur, albeit a sweet one, of Camelot.  Sadly she passed too much time playing the “Waiting Game” in lonely hotel rooms waiting for her prince.  It strikes me as sad, pathetic. Without the setting and mystique of the Kennedy era, the tale would have been just a tale of sex addiction and victimization.  Kennedy, of course, was bigger than life; or was he?

I am still thinking about my experience of Alford’s tale, of youth and folly.  This is no chick read.  It is absolutely true  —  most of us have no idea when we are young, how to handle what is thrust upon us.  Perhaps that’s why age and wisdom, if we’re lucky and eventually mindful, brings a sense of acceptance, resignation and rather joyful peace.  Mimi says she has all three.

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken

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I respect his Ph.D.  and Larry P. Arnn’s post-graduate work at the London School of Economics and Oxford University as well as his experience being President of Hillsdale College. At the same time I would respectfully query a number of his opinions in “The Unity and Beauty of the Declaration and the Constitution.” The interview by Peter Robinson of the Hoover Institution was recently published in Imprimis(Dec. 2011.).*

Some important issues should be mentioned.

First, I was drawn to this article out of my ongoing desire to understand what true conservatives are and how they would mold our country in the future. The current primary race lacks depth on that score. Second, let me be clear that I have no desire to trash the work of our Founding Fathers. If not infallible, these documents are certainly precious. However, the Founding Fathers did have in mind the amendment of the Constitution, carefully and cautiously over time. Sooner or later, one has to deal with culture changed by Darwin, quantum physics, and the salience of relative over absolute thinking. I mean that what good is learning if we do not apply it. And none of this makes the existence of God impossible. In fact I read somewhere that the “God particle” does not preclude something akin to deism.

Arnn says that never forgetting the formidable risks and challenges of the American Revolution, we should not oversimplify the 18th Century in contrast to our own issues in the 21st. Nevertheless, the Founding Fathers knew nothing of the industrial revolution, two mechanized world wars and proliferation of nuclear arsenals. Arnn speaks of the health care bureaucracy that will inundate the dollar value of society itself. The Founders also knew nothing of the great potential of medical research and the practice of medicine. He speaks of rule-making bureaucracy that threatens to destroy freedom and liberty as though the costs and complexities of health care do not threaten to bankrupt the middle class.

The solution to our constitutional challenges for Arnn seem to be a return to prudence and principle in the neo-classical style of the Enlightenment which will triumph over tyrannical rules imposed by big government. He cites a 500-page volume of rules regulating education. Then he recommends the example of Hillsdale College based on an honor system and a few good principles. Would that every young American could have such an elite education! There is no mention of the huge challenges successfully met and being met still by land-grant institutions. huge bureaucracies, that advance the Jeffersonian ideal — all of it with huge tax subsidies.

While it was an interview of very specific questions, there seems to me to be some major constitutional issues that never came up.  For one I mention the possibility that the professional lobbies holding our Congress in thrall comes down to a constitutional question. Have we not effectively a fourth, ad hoc branch of government, totally unanticipated by the Founding Fathers. The Norquist pledge especially is an extra-governmental power capable of abrogating the oath of office taken by constitutionally elected representatives of The People. If representatives want to vote no, they should vote no, but an oath to always close one’s mind is anti-intellectual, illogical and irresponsible. Representatives are accountable to themselves, voters at home and the Constitution. Oaths to God and country are one thing. An oath to a lobbyist is quite another. And we’re not talking about the Boy Scout Oath here.

I mention also, corporations that have the legal personhood of one, but that employ hundreds. I presume that political opinion comes from the Board of Directors and the stockholders. Fine. Companies may say that the individual opinions of employees come out in the wash of election day. However, the real issue is whether or not the unlimited billions of political donations now permitted by the Supreme Court gives the “people” of corporations unfair advantage — due solely to the power to buy and sell elected officials. Money talks. Corporate money talks louder than John Doe’s money. Corporations have much more vital, immediate leverage on politicians than any single voter. The further question is whether or not  corporate lobbying, especially related to multi-nationals, impacts our constitutional democracy. Does the Constitution need to answer this matter? Does the Constitution need to strengthen the oath of office?

Finally, tyranny does not necessarily come from complexity and size. Our private health care system does not work in the free market due to its inelastic, limitless demand.  Costs are totally out of control. More and more it falls into the hands of a few monopolistic corporations. These corporations are more than willing to make money on the Advantage plans for Medicare, so fears of socialism cease at the point of profit.  I cannot see any other solution than the public option, if there is to be competition in the “free” market.

Further, in 1789 American citizens were totally fatalistic about longevity, especially healthy longevity. One lived a long life or she didn’t. He led a healthy life or a sickly one and fate played its hand. Millions  fell dead in a furrow behind a plow. Not so today. Proper and early treatment can stave off fate for years. This blessing has become part of our “constitutional” makeup. Is it not clearly part of the pursuit of happiness — a mainstay of the common interest? (Why? Because these days longevity is possible.) If the answer is yes, then the matter is as constitutional as the right to education. Access to good health care should be no more wealth-based, than general education. It just didn’t happen to be an issue in 1789.  It couldn’t possibly have been an issue. The promise of longevity for all was impossible.

By all means, let us have principles and prudence in all that we do. In the end leadership demands that we get our priorities right in a modern world in the pursuit of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness with equal justice for all.

Steadfast and cautious,

David Milliken

 

*Please note that the following applies to my link to Imprimis.

“Reprinted by permission from Imprimis, a publication of Hillsdale College.”

SUBSCRIPTION FREE UPON REQUEST.

ISSN 0277-8432

Imprimis trademark registered in U.S.

Patent and Trade Office #1563325.

 

 

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Adapt: Why Success Always Starts with Failure, Harford, Tim, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 2011.

 

Can flip flopping possibly be the sign of a sound mind at work in the body politic? As the quadrennial silly season grows more and more inane, Tim Harford in Adapt seems to say yes, absolutely; but I’m sure he would exclude excessive, spineless, wishy-washiness. Assuming the President made a mistake, what would happen if President Obama said, “Okay, I’ve learned something. I should have done jobs before I did health reform. My tack in these past four years was ill-chosen and now I’m going to change, come about and do what I should have done in the first place. I am declaring a national economic emergency. We are going to find short-term work designed to create long-term job growth.”

Was it lily livered of Senator Kerry to say “I voted yes before I voted no.” Or was it the other way around? What if Mitt Romney said, “I lied. I am proud of my Massachusetts health initiative and I take responsibility for it — especially since it is full of Republican ideas. It’s not perfect. It needs tweaking and perhaps even some major repair, but I’m sticking with the plan as a national model. Oh, and by the way, trial and error, tinkering here and tinkering there, is as American as Old Glory. Trial and error lies at the heart of American ingenuity. Oh, and one thing more. While I have been knocking my own brainchild just to appeal to primary voters, I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to do it anymore. You, the American People deserve better of me.”

Americans’ collective partials and dentures would fall from their mouths. Next, another round of nit-picking would ensue — but maybe not. Maybe the public would hail a new reign of candor and realism. The problem, says Harford, isn’t electing the wrong leaders. The problem is our simplistic notions of what a leader can do. Expertise and experts come under heavy scrutiny in Adapt — including research that supports the limits of specialized insight. Honesty about the complexity of modern problems has gone begging in the public debate and policy making. The pathology under study here applies to the private sector and individuals as well.

A recurring illustration throughout the book is the Russian engineer Palchinsky. He was assigned to analyze two massive projects in Stalin’s first five-year plan, the monstrous Lenin Dam and Magnitogorsk. He had the temerity to inform Stalin that his big project would be a disaster. There had been no hydrological studies. He warned that the river would be too slow to generate hydro-electricity and flooding would cause severe damage to farms and farmers. Because of drought the plants would require backup coal fired operations. He was proven dead right after the megalo-maniacal dictator plunged ahead because he wanted an epic scale project. Much smaller scale plants would have served far better. Palchinsky wanted wanted a step-by-step approach. Stalin ordered the relocation of ten thousand farmers.

The steel mills at Magnitogorsk were supposed to outproduce the entire steel output of the UK. Again, Palchinsky recommended more analysis, more caution and a step-by-step approach. Over three thousand died during construction and the iron ore ran out in 1970. Palchinsky was a brilliant thinker who had three principles which Stalin ignored: 1) Seek out new ideas and try new things. 2) When trying new things, do them so that failure is survivable. And finally (3), seek out feedback and learn from your mistakes as you go along. Some three thousand of Russia’s ten thousand engineer were sent to Siberia for similar professional behavior and Palchinsky suffered a secret death.. In short Harford is no hare counting on speed and grandiose imagination. Tortoise-like trial and error still prevails.

Harford works his thesis through Rumsfeld’s disasters and many other examples, finally discussing the adaptive organization and the adaptive individual. Harford concludes that honest mistakes made honestly are far better than chasing losses and denials. Harford seems to be saying that the allure of meteoric success, the brilliant idea flaming overnight into success is only one way. The other requires uncelebrated, painstaking, trial and error, starting, stopping, perhaps turning about, but never quitting. But it also requires a communal tolerance for the late blooming in life like the poetry of Robert Frost. In our slap-dash, everything-on-the-fly culture of celebrity, I think of France which required eleven centuries or so to become a democratic republic. Afghanistan, if we’re lucky, has just begun. No wonder we’ve failed after a mere ten years there. Harford’s vision of adaptive evolutionary success would be revolutionary in America. Such a revolution would do wonders for the self-esteem of millions of Americans slogging it out in the unsung mundane. This is a book to own.

Steadfast and cautious,

D. “Tortoise” Taylor

 

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Hawes concludes her work by saying that through the nine years she passed researching the life of Albert Camus, she felt she had become the friend of a man she never met.  I make no such claim because my knowledge of Camus is minute compared to that of Hawes.  And unlike Hawes, I have not haunted his paths in Paris and Algeria. I have not drunk where he drank nor sat where he surveyed the sea; let alone met his son and daughter. I have not sat in the gravel near his grave. Yet I have felt a peculiar affinity to Camus.  He simply comes to me frequently as an acquaintance whom I would make my friend, too. I have re-read The Stranger several times since I was alone at Meursault’s  age myself.

When I learn from Hawes that Camus drew upon his experience of Melville, again a writer whom I have enjoyed,  I begin to feel a certain circle of influence pressing on me.  The circle widens when I read that Camus had sensitivities for Keats, but then what reader with a heartbeat does not.  In the questions for discussion of Hawes book the editors suggest thinking about Keats’ concept of Negative Capability and again I feel more and more among friends.  Of course, Camus, a fellow tubercular would have been a reader of Keats. In his way Camus is a Romantic, too.

What is harder for me personally to understand is how I, a son of Appalachia and basically the product of upper middle- class, Midwestern influences have been influenced by, I must say it, “existentialist” literature. On the other hand, questions of existence were around long before the bohemian fad.  Camus himself rejected this term and “absurd” as well; therefore I will, too.  I am content with Keats’ preference for a literature that simple does not seek “irritable reaching after fact and fiction” or philosophical labels. That absolves me also from my own attraction to things French.  I have no mitigation nor apology for my respect for la civilisation française.

I suspect that my Francophilia also contributes to my enjoyment of Camus, a Romance (Grove Press, 2009). Hawes is an extraordinary Francophile whose love affair with Camus began as a coed when she pinned a poster of him on her wall in college.  She admits to being a “fan,” but her dedication to and discipline in the biographer’s art impresses me immensely.  Sustaining a professional point of view was paramount and she succeeded. Indeed, her sharing of the memoirist and biographic process makes the book even more interesting.  I passed weeks savoring it as I also tried to empathize with Albert Camus who had never been much more to me than “the stranger.”  And yet, even at the end of his life, he was still a stranger in the world — especially among Parisian intellectuals.  Sartre and others broke his heart over their criticism of The Rebel .  The controversy became virulently personal.  Camus mended, of course, but the scar remained.  Camus condemned capital punishment, terrorism and violence.  His cause for a French Algeria died, as one might say an Algeria died, too.

I was looking for signs of happiness in a so-called “philosopher of despair.”  Hawes found it in his devotion to his sense of responsibility, the most important thing to know about Camus,  she says; and after that his sense for fun.  Hawes chronicles the latter in the man’s love for his women, dogs, friends, Citroëns, the sun and the beach.   Catherine Camus, his daughter, trying to express the intangible in her father,  said of him, “It’s that one feels solidarity in a situation of happiness.” This would account for his passion for the theatre.  And Camus himself said, “But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?”

His Nobel Prize actually became a burden that required nearly two years of adjustment.  At the end of it, not long before the fatal car accident, he said, “Absence, painful frustration.  But my heart is alive,  my heart is finally alive.  So it was not true that indifference had overcome everything.” In Hawes’ words Camus believed ” it was a duty to be happy [and] not to give in to inevitability, whatever face it took.  Sisyphus speaks here: “There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.”

I will let a photo gallery speak. And you can also visit “Albert Camus Quotations” to your right and down on the Blogroll.

For me,  having read Hawes’ biography, Camus stands even bigger in life.  He was a devout humanist above all.  As for what he does for me, Camus epitomizes what he thought Europe has to offer America — “a useful sense of disquiet.”  In our current relapse into dysfunctional adolescence in the world, American behavior is absurd and a dose of Camus’ conviction taken to heart could do us much good.  He has never been more relevant.

David Milliken

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According to David Brooks (New York Time, 8/12/11), author Tim Harford’s basic lesson is that “you have to design your life to make effective use of failures. You have to design systems of trial and error . . . ”  I haven’t read it yet but the book appears to be a Tortoise kind of thing.  Anyway, I’m going to check it out. Brooks full review is at NYT (6/13/11).

 

 

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