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On the BBC they’ve just finished listing Britain’s hundred “best loved” novels, as voted for by viewers. Harry Potter figures prominently, all of them so far being in the hundred, and I’m now watching some rather disdainful literary experts mulling it over. (Germaine Greer has just described the works of Tolkein as “nazi tosh”.)
Last time I was listening out for such things, I picked up a lot of official literary disapproval for the Harry Potter phenomenon. That at any rate is what I said on my education blog, while describing my god-daughter’s extraordinary powers of concentration when confronted by HP number 4. Somebody called Cameron agreed, and I think his comment deserves a wider readership than it will ever get at its original destination.
What had the most influence on my decision to finally cave in and read the series was the fact that literary critics and others who see no shame in the “intellectual” label were so nastily (sometimes politely) negative in their reviews.
Reading the reviews of the first book carefully, I noticed that the criticisms were both uniform and vague. The writing style was sniffed at, the characters lacked nuance and subtlety, as did the overall plot, which had the temerity to be about something as crass and silly as a “good” boy fighting an “evil” villain. In other words, it was a children’s book, which fact really, really seems to confuse Smart People.
Of course, I was delighted to read it. It smacked of the same kind of kid-growing-up flavor as Lloyd Alexander’s Prydain series.
My own enjoyment of the books aside, what I see in the whole Harry Potter argument is simply more proof of an argument made recently by best-selling author Orson Scott Card about Tolkien’s books; to wit: Serious “LitCrits” hate the Lord of the Rings because the public loves LoR. This is because the public is still quite unashamed to enjoy stories while the LitCrits had that trait wrenched, I mean, trained out of them in the universities. For the serious student of Great Literature, stories are for the uneducated; real intellectuals deal with what stories mean.
Except that the literature that is most loved by the greatest percentage of, well, people who like reading is the kind of literature that defies the very methods of interpretation and intellectual gymnastics that Intellectuals enjoy so much. [how’s THAT for a sentence?]
It is a control issue. Speaking as a current English Literature major (hey – I won my college’s “Best Writing About Literature” award last year – I’m a bona-fide Smart Guy), what I’ve come to see is that the people who really hate the “Potter” books (and I know you are not one of them, so this does not apply to you) hate them because they can’t control how people read them – the unwashed have embraced scripture that the priests didn’t write, and, OH, how this bugs your average professor(!).
Think about it: Every last “ism” an Eng Lit major has to study is the product of some wind bag who couldn’t stand that people weren’t seeing the same things in literature that he or she was seeing.
And, furthermore . . .
Good heavens! I apologize for going on a rant.
Apology accepted. That was obviously a first draft as well as a final version, and as such pretty good stuff, I say.
Last night, on Have I Got News For You, a British TV comedy quiz show held in high regard, one of the regulars, Ian Hislop, who also edits Private Eye (but who presumably pays rather less attention to the Private Eye home page), launched a spectacular attack on the European Union and on the idea of Britain being any part of it. The gist of it was that Europe was being dealt a new constitution by a man (Giscard d’Estaing) who would be in prison if he were British. “It’s as if Jeffrey Archer was in charge of Europe.”
Left wing comedian Mark Steel tried to take the sting out of the attack by implying that Hislop was attacking all French people. (“And how about those bloody Italians, crooks all of them, …” etc.) He played the xenophobia card, in other words. But Hislop wasn’t attacking all French people and saying they were all crooks, just Giscard, and, in general, the kind of people who become French Presidents. He steam-rollered right over Steel, not least because this is Hislop’s home turf and both he and Steel knew it.
I can’t remember much of the wording of the attack, and I don’t have it on tape. But in any case, it was the ferocity and the protracted nature of it that was astonishing, rather than the details. Everyone else looked rather embarrassed. Ian, easy boy, you can’t say this kind of thing on TV, BBCTV, BBC comedy TV, said their faces (but not their mouths). But he just raged on regardless.
To Americans who may doubt the significance of all this, Hislop is a much loved figure in Britain. For years now, he and Paul Merton have been swapping gags and banter on HIGNFY, and whenever Hislop has been on the receiving end, he has taken it like a good sport. As editor of Private Eye, Hislop has been involved in savaging many dishonest and unpopular public figures – Jeffrey Archer being only one of many, and unlike politicians, he is considered honest. Whether this is true is beside the point I’m making; the point is, he’s a considerable British personality. So when he lays into the EU as a racket run by racketeers in a manner fit to bust, that has got to count for something, public-opinion-wise.
You had the feeling that Hislop has been waiting for the right moment to throw all his chips onto the table and make his anti-EU pitch, and if that’s right then it is very interesting that he reckons now to be the moment.
One other thing. I say that I don’t have this on tape. By this evening, assuming all goes well, I will have it on tape, because the show is being repeated tonight on BBC2 TV tonight, at 10.05 pm.
As a fan of the the sci-fi dystopian film thriller, The Matrix, I am looking forward to the sequel, due out next week in Britain. This report via CNN suggests the next instalment is sure to be a rip-roaring treat for high-tech movie fans like me.
Of course, part of the appeal of such films to many folk is the way they play on fears about the growth of Big Brother powers by the State, and also by corporations, many of which behave almost as if they were governments. Similarly, it helps explain the appeal of Stephen Spielberg’s adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s short story, Minority Report about a year ago.
…and, er, it appears that men and women will have, er, plenty to drool over in the next Matrix performance, judging by the publicity shots. Heh-heh.
Roll on May 15.
So… megacorporate musicland wants to attack people’s computers, with state sanction, to stop them doing things they dislike. This could be interpreted by the vast army of hackers and script kiddies out there as a declaration of war that is tantamount to painting a bullseye on the side of the RIAA servers.
Of course I would hate for anyone to construe these remarks as actually encouraging people to do to the RIAA what they are planning to do to millions of other people. No, that would be….bad.
I recently saw the latest instalment of the X-Men saga, named rather unambiguously X-Men 2. I rather liked the first X-Men, which was rather a surprise given that I think the history of translating comics into movies or TV is not a happy one.
Although Batman proved rather good in its first few outings, it then got progressively more dreadful… Judge Dredd was a travesty, I despised the entire Superman series, loathed Spawn, hated The Phantom and Daredevil had nothing to commend it other than the fact it had Jennifer Garner in it. Ok, The Shadow was almost rather good… almost, Tank Girl was in parts so surreal as to be fun and in other places so bad it was good, and Spiderman was really quite good indeed… but clearly the odds are that comic-based productions will prove to be turkeys.
So X-Men 2 would not have surprised me if it had been far less impressive than the first one, but that is far from the case. The excellent cast remained rock solid and the story, whilst hardly Tolstoy, was entirely adequate. Although like the first movie, Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine stole the show, it would be hard to fault anyone else’s performances. The whole thing sticks with what worked last time and adds some nice touches, such as an angst-filled German teleporting mutant who looks like the devil but turns out to be one of the good guys. And then there is the always superb Ian McKellen’s Magneto, who this time… ah, but then I don’t want to give away the whole plot.
Go see it… well worth your popcorn money.
Many years ago, not long after I had graduated from law school, I briefly succumbed to a rather silly conviction that I was a cultural barbarian and this state of affairs could be addressed by becoming an afficianado of European cinema. I should admit that this conviction was in no small measure driven by the belief that being au fait with the work of European film-makers was a surefire way to impress the girlies.
So I started to spend much of my free time ferreting out art-house independent cinemas (of the kind that sold organic brownies in the foyer instead of popcorn) and sat through endless hours of turgid, narcolepsy-inducing, state-funded, navel-gazing about the tortured psychological relationship between a middle-aged sub-postmaster and his trotskyite revolutionary girlfriend in the seedy hostel they share with a couple of Vietnamese refugees on the outskirts of Hamburg. Or something.
These films have all amalgamated in my mind and I cannot remember the name of even a single one. After about six months, I decided that no woman was worth this level of constipation so I threw the towel in and went back to watching simplistic sci-fi blockbusters and gangster movies.
But it is because of that brief self-inflicted nightmare that I understand exactly how these guys feel:
The survey by the Parliament’s cultural committee concluded that EU consumers prefer foreign cultural goods – such as films and music – to European products.
About 40 per cent of respondents said that, in general, European citizens do not prefer European cultural products. The situation in the European film industry is particularly bad.
By ‘foreign’ I rather think they mean Anglosphere, especially Hollywood.
Anyway, as per usual for the Belgian Empire, the answer to this problem lies in a top-down political solution. Understandably alarmed by this disturbing outbreak of free market value judgements, the EU has swung into action and established a ‘Committee on Culture, Youth, Education, the Media and Sport’ (no, really!) that has produced a ‘working document’ that reads pretty much like a script for one of the above-mentioned movies.
However, there are a few things that caught my eye:
Another challenge is how to stimulate the industrial actors to respond in time to loud-and-clear customer demand, in particular of the not-so-well-off younger generation, thereby focusing on long-term viability instead of on fast returns.
How is any ‘industrial actor’ supposed to recognise ‘loud-and-clear customer demand’ except by reference to the returns? Note how institutional the old soclialist canards have become. These people actually believe that the way to ensure an industry has long-term viability is to render it unprofitable.
The time has come to shape an inspired, efficient and democratically defined long-term cultural policy in order for the Union to make better use of its underdeveloped growth potential, as President Prodi repeatedly advocated in our House.
Right there is that sentence is an encapsulation of just about everything that is so grossly wrong with European thinking. The idea that in order to have more culture it must be defined and prescribed by a committee of appointed poobahs, pretty much guarantees that European cultural output remains as crap and unwanted as it clearly is now.
I’ve recently been writing at my Education Blog about the noted educator and educational theorist Maria Montessori.
Montessori recommended what for her time must have been a most unusual kind of object for young children to play with. She disapproved, it would seem, of the kind of complicated toys and dolls which, then as now, many parents get for their children. Instead she recommended abstract objects. What she had in mind was that children should not be overwhelmed with excessive amounts of information. Too little information, and children get bored. But too much causes them to switch off, in sensory self defence. That was her attitude. So, instead of dolls and train sets and woolly animals, she prescribed plain geometrical objects and matching sets of things like rods all the same size but of different colours, or rods all of the same colour but of different lengths. Or Montessori children may be presented with a set of identical sized blocks which different textures on their surfaces, like the different surfaces of different grades of sandpaper.
Whether by coincidence or by cause and effect, the Montessorian view of childhood objects has in recent decades made remarkable headway. Look into a child’s nursery or playpen now, and you will see all manner of geometrical shapes and blocks and wheels and surfaces. Felt covered cubes. Wooden zig-zaggy things to put in zig-zaggy shaped holes. Lots of different colours and consistencies of plastic. And so on.
The point I want to make here has nothing to do with the educational wisdom or otherwise of surrounding small children with such objects. No, I want to offer a theory about Modern Art, or rather, a theory about the (to many) extraordinary popularity of Modern Art. By “Modern Art” I of course mean abstract art – art that is not “of” anything, but is merely itself. → Continue reading: A conjecture concerning children’s toys and the current popularity of Modern Art
Among the Notes from an Iranian Girl is a sobering reminder that she lives in a country where the kissing has to stop:
Tehran – A prominent Iranian actress has been handed a suspended sentence of 74 lashes for publicly kissing a male film director during an awards ceremony, said a report…
She despairs. Who can blame her?
I have nothing special to say, I’m just ashamed that I have to write about these news of my country, for people of the world…I’m ashamed of the place that I live in & this damn destiny…
Sentiments echoed by Hollywood actor Tim Robbins:
We lay the continuance of our democracy on your desks, and count on your pens to be mightier. Millions are watching and waiting in mute frustration and hope – hoping for someone to defend the spirit and letter of our Constitution, and to defy the intimidation that is visited upon us daily in the name of national security and warped notions of patriotism.
And, believe me, the threat of 74 lashes is as nothing compared to tale of abject horror and violent oppression to which the heroic Mr.Robbins has been subjected:
Two weeks ago, the United Way canceled Susan’s appearance at a conference on women’s leadership. And both of us last week were told that both we and the First Amendment were not welcome at the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Bush=Hitler.
[The link to Tim Robbins speech courtesy of Dumb Celebs]
Britain’s Channel 4 has just wound up a superb documentary series of the type that Channel 4 does consistently well. The final instalment of ‘Do you believe in magic?’ was aired yesterday evening and dealt with faith in Britain today. If the programme-makers are to be believed (and they put their case together very credibly I must say) then Britain is not quite the country even I thought it to be.
When less than 1 out of every 10 people in this country regularly attend Church and where politicians and even Church leaders shy away from mentioning God for fear of being seen as a bit soft in the head, one can reasonably infer that Britain is the most ruggedly secular country in the Western world and a place where scientific rationalism has triumphed.
Well, not true. Running underneath the dominant current of default secularism and starkly juxtaposed against dwindling interest in traditional worship, Britain is positively teeming with wiccans, pagans, shamanists, holistic spiritualists, mediums, druids, tarot readers and cultists of just about every imaginable stripe and description. This includes a peculiarly English version of enviromentalism which is much more about nature-worship than anti-everything agitprop and which is a curiously arcane echo of pre-Christian Britain. The ‘Old Gods’, it seems, have been making something of a comeback. This is not so much post-modernism as pre-modernism. → Continue reading: The Enchanted Isle
The war is winding down into its “this war isn’t over yet – there are still pockets of resistance” phase, and now, I feel, is the time to be talking about soya sauce, and its various occidental rivals. In connection with soya sauce, my blog-enthusiasm of the week, Dave Barry, is right when he says that you need to experience this. This is a catchy tune full of fun, cleverly illustrated by a team of top graphic designers. This illustrated tune both promotes a Japanese brand of soya sauce, and criticises non-Japanese rivals, such as “Worcestershire” Sauce (which I prefer to think of as Worcester sauce but that may just be me).
Is this one of the futures of advertising on the Internet? It’s no good just putting up a sign saying “buy our soya sauce – it’s very nice”, although I’ve seen far stupider slogans. No, you need a bit of wit, fun, pep, fizz, and Dave Barry appeal. That way your stupid advert will stop being a mere advert and become an Internet Meme.
And could it also be one of the futures of pop music? There was a time when advertising jingles were strictly poor cousins to regular non-promotional pop songs. But could the economics of the music business be about to change this? After all, these people want you to listen to this tune for free, and to circulate it to all your friends and internet contacts. They make their money when everyone reveals their increased awareness of the brand to market researchers and when they buy the sauce.
On the subject of non-Japanese rivals, I was at school with a chap called Perrins, whose family were involved with Lea & Perrins Sauce, which is a particular variety of Worcester Sauce. Perrins had unlimited supplies, but we would have preferred it if he had been called Rowntree (like the gruesome Senior Prefect in Lindsay Anderson’s movie If), or perhaps Mars, or maybe Cadbury. The Lea & Perrins website calls its product “Worcestershire” sauce too, I notice. And this site also elaborates on the Worcester sauce theme, although this one calls it “Worcherstershire” sauce, which is definitely wrong. Personally I don’t much like Worcester Sauce, although I quite like Worcester Sauce flavoured crisps. However, I prefer these Marmite flavoured crisps, which are truly excellent, and also greatly to be preferred to Bovril flavoured crisps, in my opinion.
Best of all, saucewise, is surely Hellmann’s Mayonnaise. Who can forget the product placement of this mighty mayo in Woody Allen’s movie Hannah and Her Sisters? Not me, I can tell you that for nothing.
Aaaaahhhh … braaaaaaands.
If Mark Steyn is to be believed that we are rapidly approaching endgame as far as the invasion of Iraq is concerned. And, barring unforseen disasters, it does seem as if Baghdad will be in Allied hands within the next few days.
But then we must turn our minds to the long-term consequences. No, I am not talking about the reconstruction of Iraq and the democratisation of the region. That’s all far too prosaic. No, I am talking about the movie rights to ‘Gulf War II’. Surely Hollywood will be unable to resist dramatising these world-shaking events. After all, this was not just a little local difficulty, this was epic reality. We’re talking summer blockbuster here!
And it isn’t as if they are going to have to hire a whole team of scriptwriters either. This story practically writes itself, though, there would have to be some artistic licence employed to herald in a few changes required by Hollywood sensibilities.
First of all, the current US administration just have to go. There is no way any Hollywood director could portray Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, Rice et al with even a hint of sympathy. So they will just all have to be airbrushed out and the team from The West Wing drafted in.
The movie opens with President Bartlett deeply troubled by all this talk of war. All he wants to do is quietly get on with the business of extending emission controls and increasing pension benefits for social workers but he simply cannot ignore the growing chorus of extreme right-wing talk radio hosts calling for an invasion of Iraq.
In his desperation, he turns to the only man he can trust for counsel and advice. That man is the French President (Roberto Benigni) whom President Bartlett knows to be a man of boundless integrity, profound humanity, great learning and foresight. The French President urges Bartlett to be strong in the face of war pressure and embrace European wisdom and humility.
Bartlett knows that the French President is the voice of sanity. He wants to negotiate a peaceful solution and let the UN deal with terrorist-sponsoring states but he keeps getting outmanoeuvred by the ‘war-hawks’ in the Pentagon (led by Tommy Lee Jones) who, in turn, are sponsored by a shadowy cabal of ruthless oil barons (personified by Anthony Hopkins). → Continue reading: Gulf War II: The Movie
The current Time Out (print edition) quotes a playwright, Nabil Shaban, attacking the government’s spending on war:
Blair is misusing the democratic process, and taxpayers’ money – which should be spent on health and education at home.
To show that this war is not in his name, Mr Shaban’s has publicly given back to the government a £24,800 grant awarded as funding for one of his plays. This publicity stunt, however, does raise an important question. If Mr Shaban objects to taxpayers’ money being spent on something he deems unnecessary – as opposed to hospitals and schools – why did he in the first place think it right to receive accept taxpayers’ money for his play?
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Who Are We? The Samizdata people are a bunch of sinister and heavily armed globalist illuminati who seek to infect the entire world with the values of personal liberty and several property. Amongst our many crimes is a sense of humour and the intermittent use of British spelling.
We are also a varied group made up of social individualists, classical liberals, whigs, libertarians, extropians, futurists, ‘Porcupines’, Karl Popper fetishists, recovering neo-conservatives, crazed Ayn Rand worshipers, over-caffeinated Virginia Postrel devotees, witty Frédéric Bastiat wannabes, cypherpunks, minarchists, kritarchists and wild-eyed anarcho-capitalists from Britain, North America, Australia and Europe.
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