Category Archives: Critic’s Notebook

Critic’s Notebook: Riffle, LibraryThing, and Connectivity

Meaning is not in things but in between; in the iridescence, the interplay; the interconnections; at the intersections, at the crossroads. Meaning is transitional as it is transitory; in the puns or bridges, the correspondence.”

Norman O. Brown, “Freedom,” Love’s Body (1966)

The mass is a matrix from which all traditional behavior toward works of art issues today in a new form. Quantity has been transmuted into quality. The greatly increased mass of participants has produced a change in the mode of participation. The fact that the new mode of participation first appeared in a disreputable form must not confuse the spectator. Yet some people have launched spirited attacks against precisely this superficial aspect.”

Walter Benjamin, “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” (1936)

Because of my reviews for Translation Tuesdays, I was invited to join Riffle, a new social media website devoted to literature. In addition, I have been a long time member of LibraryThing, a website where one can catalog his or her library. LibraryThing also has publisher giveaways, discussion groups, and links to local events. This essay seeks to investigate the linkages between social media, device connectivity, and “the book.”

Boundaries of the Book

During the last decade, there has been a revolution in how consume data. More specifically, how we consume books, music, and film. But the change in consumption did not happen overnight or in a vacuum. As creatures of habit, we remain skeptical and resistant to technological change. New products like ebooks and digital music downloads have disrupted our normal perceptions of consumption.

Concurrent with these new technological innovations, the Internet’s increased availability in the mid-1990s spurred a democratization of knowledge. Email and Instant Messenger made communication instantaneous and free, as opposed to paying for postage and long distance phone calls. Into this melange we now have things like freeware and Makerbot. These user-based tools/movements have become a counter-voice to proprietary software and top-down producer-consumer paradigms.

All these various activities and innovations have created an environment for change in how consumers interact with other forms of data, specifically books and music. Napster and the like began as free file-sharing software, allowing consumers to download songs. It was advantageous for those who enjoyed one or two songs from a rather middling album. Smashmouth’s “Walkin’ on the Sun” became a popular download because no one wanted to pay $12 for an album with only one good song. Then Lars Ulrich became litigious and made many people very angry. Eventually programmers and business executives came to an understanding that led to the common paradigm of purchasing downloadable music. The rise of the iPod also smoothed the transition, since it operated on playing downloaded digital music files and not cassette tapes. And it was smaller and held more songs.

Kindle-vs-books

Music was easy, books are hard. Music consumption has periodic transitions – wax cylnders to records, records to tapes, tapes to CDs, CDs to digital files – but books present a different history. There has not been a major transition in book consumption since Gutenberg and even then it was only a matter of speed and cheapness. For the most part, books still came in numbered pages between hard covers. What is inside a book has changed radically since the 16th century with the onset on digital publishing and printing. One only has to browse a used bookstore and see art books from the Seventies and Eighties to appreciate the changes made.

Still, despite some superficial aesthetic changes, consumers still purchased books that looked like books. The bookishness of a book, as it were. This intrinsic nature – the smell of ink, the feel of paper, the weight of the volume – has become the hardest thing to abandon. One could read emails or blogs or newspaper websites for free, but all three of those things lack the implicit gravitas of a book. But this is to speak in generalities. To delve further, one has to investigate the variety of books available to the consumer. Not merely the Taschen coffee table book, but also the almost-disposable bestseller or the pulp thriller. The ease and quickness in how one reads a Grisham novel or a Steven King horror story is in stark contrast to a coffee table art book. A coffee table art book is an artifact. Something to be preserved and displayed like a sacred relic. That’s how I treat my copy of Codex Seraphinianus by Luigi Serafini or the 7-volume edition of Rising Up and Rising Down by William T. Vollmann.

VOL2

Where ebooks have been successful is in the realm once occupied by drugstore paperbacks. Unlike the coffee table art book, these paperbacks are made with cheap materials. One reads them with speed and one can consume many books within a year. Besides the cheap paper, these paperbacks also cost considerably less. The Spartan content – no visuals or fold-out maps – make them much better candidates for ebook consumption. The technological innovation of the ebook has created a niche once occupied by cheap paperbacks from the Thirties to the Sixties, the Golden and Silver Ages of popular genres like Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Erotica.

Ebooks dissolve the boundaries of the traditional book. One still calls it a “book” despite the absence of page numbers. While content harkens back to a bygone era, the functionalities of ebooks harken back to scrolls, content delivery systems used in Ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome. Besides the scrolling, there is a futuristic addition with the presence of hypertext. Hypertext makes ebooks three-dimensional objects. One can scroll up and down, but one can also click on a word and go through. As Doc Brown said, “Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.”

Listmania!

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Lists are fun. Whether it is reading a list or making a list, the fun comes in creating and adding entries. Cracked.com excels at making lists. Long the weak counterpart to MAD Magazine, Cracked reinvented itself as an online comedy website. It did so through lists. The lists existed as an arrangement of factoids for quick consumption. Cracked.com likens it to “comedy heroin.” Short, strong doses of intense comedy. A catchy title and stock photography get mixed in with fact-based article liberally dosed with dick jokes and sophomoric humor. Ironically, such mischief has its antecedents in Gargantua and Pantagruel (1532) by François Rabelais.

Riffle, the new social media website, also allows users to make lists. After creating a list, the user then has the option to post it on Twitter and/or Facebook. It offers a space to create opinions and search similar tastes. The lists serve the user as a counter to such things like the algorithms used on Amazon and Netflix. The idiosyncrasy of user-generated lists are self-made. The users create them for their own personal edification. They have nothing at stake but their own satisfaction. The algorithms of Amazon and Netflix exist because the System is trying to give its best guess at what a potential consumer might want to purchase. Amazon and Netflix exist as monetized environments: consumer ecologies. Riffle is more communitarian in nature.

Connection and Connectivity

RiffleBooks_SitePromo

Riffle and LibraryThing function best when they bring people together. I have been a longtime member of LibraryThing, cataloging numerous books and interacting with various discussion groups. When the cataloging function is fulfilled, then one move towards interaction. The same behavior exists on Facebook, where once one has accumulated various and sundry friends, then went one to “Like” numerous things, then one focuses on renewing old friendships or kindling new ones.

Today Facebook exists as the incumbent paradigm. All roads lead to Facebook. Riffle’s functionality becomes useful in its connectivity with Facebook.

Riffle → Facebook

The same thing with this blog. Once I’m done writing this essay, it will be posted on the WordPress blog and then re-posted on this blog’s Facebook page.

Driftless Area Review → Driftless Area Review Facebook Page

When I write book reviews, I post them on LibraryThing, post them on this blog, and then, finally, the Driftless Area Review Facebook page.

Posting Book Review


LibraryThing → Driftless Area Review* → Driftless Area Review Facebook page

*This becomes further complicated when I post elsewhere, including The Chicago Center for Literature and Photography (CCLaP) (also posting on their Facebook page), The Joe Bob Report, and The The Poetry Blog.

CCLaP page → LibraryThing → Driftless Area Review → Driftless Area Review Facebook page → CCLaP Facebook page

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In addition to the content, what becomes especially important is connectivity. The CCLaP has created a platform for viewing the site across all media types (computer terminals, iPads, mobile devices, etc.). To call back the Norman O. Brown quote, “Meaning is not in things but in between; in the iridescence, the interplay; the interconnections.” The Internet fueled democratization of content has created a digital ecology dependent on connectivity. Once consumers were satisfied that the computer could access the Internet via the phone lines. Wifi has changed that perception. The demand that content be available immediately everywhere is premised on the notion that all these numerous devices can talk to each other.

But connectivity comes at a cost. Unlike the hard point connecting a desktop and a phone line, Wifi is much more tricksy. Many more variables come to the forefront when one beams information over the airwaves. Everything from security to the weather can play havoc with content distribution. In addition, the variety of machines available to the public also come with their own idiosyncratic behaviors. Cell phones offer increased convenience for communication, but at the cost of dropping out at unexpected times to cell towers not working.

Riffle, LibraryThing, and Facebook (among the many other not mentioned) offer social connection. The ascendancy of multiple devices in the household means we depend not only on the content they provide, but whether or not they can talk to each other.

Translation Tuesdays: The Kindly Ones, by Jonathan Littell

A series dedicated to literature in translation whether classic or contemporary.

 

Originally published as Les Beinveillantes.
Translated from the French by Charlotte Mandell
HarperCollins (2009)

NB: These remarks will be classified in The Critic’s Notebook.  Unlike a more tightly constructed and formal book review, these notes will possess a larval nature: impressionistic, half-formed, spontaneous.  It stands as a record of my first impressions as well as operate as raw material I will mine when I prepare a more in-depth critical analysis.  This later analysis will also cover William T. Vollmann’s Europe Central (2005), Vasily Grossman’s Life and Fate (1959), and William Gass’s The Tunnel (1995).

First Impressions:

1. An overall assessment has me borrowing Nathan Rabin’s My Year of Flops terminology.  In this specific case: Fiasco.

2. Other categories for the Kindly Ones:
a. Difficult
b. Controversial
c. Problematic

3. Difficult:

a. European-style paragraphing (no paragraph breaks for dialogue).

b. Epic size.  Does scale mean an inherent value or profundity?  Cf. volumes from The Song of Ice and Fire, Atlas Shrugged, The Bible, and so on.

c. Untranslated German military ranks.

d. Numerous characters to keep track of.

4. Controversial:

a. Prize-winning.  It won the Prix Goncourt in 2006, putting it in heady company, including Michel Houellebecq, Marguerite Duras, and Marcel Proust.

b. The sexuality of Dr. Maximilien von Aue.  Reviewers have categorized Aue’s sexuality as “deviant.”  (The construction of Aue’s sexuality will be further explored in the last category, since it is highly problematic.)

c. Aue’s sexuality has a certain grindhouse quality to it, giving the novel a sensationalist and exploitative gloss.  One thinks of Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS, the Night Porter, and the Damned.

5. Problematic:

a. The narrative is at war with itself.

b. What is it?  At once a realistic historical novel and a mashup of the Orestia.

c. The novel starts strong, but ends weak.

d. Two major narrative demerits:

i.   Aue’s head wound suffered in Stalingrad.

ii.   Murder of parents (but with no memory of committing the act).

e. These major plot devices get built upon until it becomes implausibility heaped on implausibility.  (Aue’s advancements in rank and the police investigation.  The investigation begins as a real threat to Aue’s life and prestige, and then it devolves into a ridiculous farce.)

6. While the novel is loaded with excessive violence and explicit sex, these things aren’t inherently bad (Cf. Gravity’s Rainbow and Funeral Rites).

7. Do narrative fiascos have their own value to readers and critics?  What can critics extract from works that fail?

a. What do we mean by fail?  Not move units off the bookshelf?  (The Nathan Rabin-esque flop.)  Baffled/horrified/negative critical reception?  (Fiasco and/or Secret Success.)

8. Father & Son:

a. Jonathan Littell is the son of American espionage writer Robert Littell.  The Littell the Elder author of The Company, a multigenerational epic about the CIA.

b. With The Company and his other works, R. Littell tells the history of the US intelligence community via the “Jewishness” of the characters (Cf. Philip Roth, Saul Bellow, Norman Mailer, etc.).

c. Jonathan Littell’s grandparents were Russian Jews who fled Russia and settled in the United States.

d. Both Jonathan and Robert reside in France.

e. Jonathan Littell reframes his Jewish heritage with a narrator who is an SS jurist (i.e. an elite within Nazi German society).

i.   Littell further complicates this with Aue’s sexuality (see below) and Aue’s Alsatian heritage.  Alsace-Lorraine was German territory from 1871 to 1918 and re-annexed by Germany after the fall of France in 1940, then returning to France in 1945.  Alsace is a border province, lacking the historical credentials of a province within the German Altreich.  The sexuality and Alsatian heritage make Aue a luminal character, existing on the boundaries of society.

9. Aue’s Sexuality:

a. Max had incestuous relations with his sister, Una, when they were children.

b. Max and Una are twins.

c. Lacking the presence of Una, Max can only become sexually aroused via anal sex.

d. Does this make Max a gay character?  To this reader, a resounding no.  But this requires further explanation, since this shouldn’t be confused with “Homosexuality is a choice” parroted by the deranged, hypocritical, and ignorant of the Modern Theocratic Right.

e. Can “gayness” even operate as an accurate label for a scenario this contrived?

f. The contrivance is created for the purposes of the narrative fitting into the Orestia, since the play cycle has its fair share of demented sex and violence.

g. This contrived sexuality is odd given the very real history of Germany’s many thriving gay subcultures (the Prussian military, Weimar Berlin, and the SA).

  1. The novel draws upon the darker thread of French literary history, especially DAF Sade and Ferdinand Celine with its violence, depravity, gratuitous sex, and severe, albeit alien, morality.
  2. Unlike the novel Shadows Walking, which is written from a more realistic Balzackian tradition, depicting a “slice of life” of German Nazi-era society.

An essay on a Jack Gilbert poem @ thethepoetryblog

My essay on a Jack Gilbert poem is over on thethepoetryblog.  Click the link to go to the essay.

What I’m Reading 2012 and Other Business

What I’m Reading 2012

Overview: I’m currently reading five books.  Each poses certain challenges (in some cases, self-imposed challenges) to me as a reader, reviewer, critic, historian, and aesthete.  While New Year’s Resolutions get broken seconds after they’re uttered, these challenges will form an informal backbone to my reading schedule.  As it stands, I want to increase the frequency of my blog posts from bimonthly to weekly.  (The same goes for my other blog, Coffee is for Closers.)  The positive responses from readers has really inspired me to do more.

As you’ll see with these challenges, I want to “raise the bar” with the Driftless Area Review’s content.

The Book: The Brethren: Inside the Supreme Court, by Bob Woodward and Scott Armstrong

The Challenge: Woodward and Armstrong’s book chronicles the Burger Supreme Court from 1969 to 1975.  The Supreme Court decided on many significant cases, including the Pentagon Papers, Roe v Wade, and others.  Reading The Brethren has inspired me to write a multibook, deep-reading-style review, focusing on the Supreme Court.  For this review, I will also read The Nine: Inside the Secret World of the Supreme Court, by Jeffrey Toobin, and Scorpions: The Battles and Triumphs of FDR’s Great Supreme Court Justices, by Noah Feldman.

As a historian, the review will pose a great challenge.  The nice thing about the three titles is how each reflects off each other.  The Brethren follows the decisions of Hugo Black and William O. Douglas, two long-lasting Justices and FDR appointments.  Black died in 1971, paving the way for President Nixon to nominate and appoint William Rehnquist.  The Nine examines the Court during the Dubya Years, including the consequences of Rehnquist’s death, Rehnquist having then been elevated from Justice to Chief Justice.  The three books reveal the slow movement from a liberal to a conservative agenda.  The differing genres will be interesting to evaluate, since Brethren and Nine are works of investigative journalism and Scorpions is popular history.  It should prove to be an interesting project.

The Book: Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Volume 2, by Karl Marx

The Challenge: Currently back-burnered for more compelling books.  Unfortunately, some sequels are worse than the originals.  Unlike Marx’s first volume, Volume 2 is a slow, tedious, bone-dry work, more akin to an economics textbook.  In addition, Friedrich Engels edited the present volume following Marx’s death.  The work exists as an amalgamation of several of Marx’s notebooks.  While the work presents relevant material on the operations of political economy, it is almost too dull to read.  The challenge will involve trying to read it without falling asleep.

A further challenge involves me writing more essays in my series Essays on Capital.  I want to continue this series, since the first volume presented a rich seam to mine.

The Book: Shadows Walking, by Douglas R. Skopp

The Challenge: Douglas Skopp’s self-published novel is a revelation, a well-written exploration of two doctor’s lives in Nazi Germany.  I will review the novel on its own, but it will become part of a larger project.  This project involves reading three massive, controversial novels about the Third Reich.  Two specifically focus on the Eastern Front: Europe Central, by William Vollmann, and The Kindly Ones, by Jonathan Littell.  The third novel – The Tunnel, by William Gass – is technically a “university novel,” but the subject matter associated with the protagonist feeds into the works of Vollmann, Littell, and Skopp.

The final challenge will be psychological, since these four novels survey the darkest aspects of modern history.

The Book: Citizens: A Chronicle of the French Revolution, by Simon Schama

The Challenge: This is the second history by Simon Schama that I’ve read.  I previously read Rembrandt’s Eyes, his magisterial double biography of Peter Paul Rubens and Rembrandt von Rijk.  As with Rembrandt’s Eyes, Citizens is an epic account, mixing biography, pop culture history, visual culture, politics, foreign policy, and tax law into a compelling page-turner.

French history is a particular enthusiasm of mine.  The challenge will be tempering this enthusiasm with the disinterested eye of a historian and bringing to bear my previous knowledge in French literature, historiography, and pop culture.

Blog Feature Revival

This year will see the revival of blog features on long hiatus.  The first will be the return of The Art of Reviewing.  French theorist Roland Barthes and prolific Gnostic Bardolator Harold Bloom are the first two on the docket.

The limited series 5000 Pages of Kissinger will conclude with my review of Years of Renewal, Kissinger’s final volume of his memoirs.  I have the skeleton of a review in place that I wrote several months ago.  The Arab Spring of 2011 and the nascent Occupy movement have made it a challenge to contextualize Kissinger’s work without seeming immediately outdated.  Both Arab Spring and Occupy have overturned the Nixon-Kissinger paradigm of supporting US-friendly free market dictatorships and absolutist monarchies in the Middle East.  These movements, along with the Tea Party movement and Ron Paul’s Small Government Neo-Isolationism, present opportunities for the government that acts in our name (if you’re a US reader of this blog) to reassess its global strategy, foreign policy interests, and free market cheerleading.

For decades, the Nixon-Kissinger paradigm had operated as a given within the global foreign policy architecture.  That given is no longer true and no longer equipped to deal with the Middle Eastern calls for freedom and the end of economic inequality.  As of this writing, the Arab Spring has become the symbol for freedom and liberation from oppression.  The end-result of these protests and coups is still unwritten.

“The Best 80s Sci Fi and Fantasy Films” will continue with an installment on Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Other Business

While I would like to this blog a major part of my life, creative projects and personal obligations inevitably get in the way.  These include a random assortment of personal and professional business.

I am getting married in early October and planning a wedding is a time-consuming endeavor.

On the reviewing front, I have a small pile of books from the Permanent Press I want to get around to reading.  I also have a couple novels from Archipelago Books I want to read and review.

My job is second shift and a temporary assignment.  Like many, many others who have been displaced, abandoned, or simply eliminated from the free market economy, I have a very real and very pressing goal of achieving full-time employment.  (The kind of employment associated with health benefits and paid time off.)  Working second shift has made it more challenging to post reviews, but with any challenge, it can be overcome.  On that note, if any blog readers like what they see and want to hire me as a writer, I’m all ears.  My contact information is in the Submitting Materials section.

Finally, I am working on the last round of revisions for a science fiction thriller.  I am planning to resubmit it to a small publisher who showed interest in the work.  In my query letter, I described my story as “The Sopranos meet Dune.”  I’m making this creative project a priority, since I am nearly finished with the revisions.  Overall, I have been pleased, since the revisions have strengthened the novel.

Critic’s Notebook: The Best Science Fiction and Fantasy Movies of the 1980s

Introduction

“Interest in film, pop and television stars and science fiction peaks between the ages of 12 and 13.”

Media Genres and Content Preferences by Carmelo Garitaon and Jose A. Oleaga, Patxi Juaristi (The London School of Economics and Political Science).

One of the most challenging aspects of criticism is Taste.  How is it formed?  What differences are there between Good Taste and Bad Taste?  Can these differences be investigated with an objective concrete analysis, or is it a phenomenon based entirely on subjective experiences?

The creation of Taste occurs when we grow up, sifting through the various cultural products we’ve consumed and deciding which, if any, we can determine as good.  I consider myself a science fiction and fantasy enthusiast.  I also grew up in the Eighties.  The days of Hair Metal, Reaganomics, the Soviet Threat, and Garbage Pail Kids.  I want to keep these two things in mind for the scope of this essay.  I want to examine what I like what I like and why.  The challenge will come from the twin threats of Nostalgia and Fandom, since each can switch off the critical faculties.  It’s easy to bask in the fuzzy light of the Idealized Past.  It’s also easy to consider the science fiction and fantasy genre in degrees of awesomeness.  On the other hand, this examination of film from the Eighties will be a loose free associative ramble.  I also aim to keep the tone celebratory.

Did the science fiction and fantasy films of the Eighties possess something ineffable that contemporary films lack?  Or is this the creeping specter of Nostalgia blurring the reality of the situation?

Commentary on commentary on commentary ad infinitum … with footnotes.

What these essays are not:

  • A detailed exegesis on the various “editions” of the films.  The subject will come up, but it won’t be the focus of the essay.
  • A defense that films from the past are somehow superior to films of the present.  (“Things didn’t get bad until those kids drove their horseless carriages and listened to that damn jazz music.”)
  • An exhaustive explication of plot, character, and setting.  Because I’m looking at several films here, the backgrounding will be minimal.  Furthermore, I’m disregarding all spoiler warnings, since the last film examined was released in 1989.  (I also haven’t seen every different cut of every different film under examination.)
  • While there are many films listed, this is not meant to be a comprehensive or definitive list.  The list reflects my personal tastes and idiosyncrasies.

FILMS PROFILED

Cusp year: Apocalypse Now & Apocalypse Now Redux (Francis Ford Coppola, 1979; Redux, 2001)

Raiders of the Lost Ark (Steven Spielberg, 1981)

Time Bandits (Terry Gilliam, 1981)

Bladerunner (Ridley Scott, 1982; “Director’s Cut”, 1992)

The Dark Crystal (Jim Henson and Frank Oz, 1982)

Dune (David Lynch, 1984; “Extended Edition”, 2006)

Ghostbusters (Ivan Reitman, 1984)

Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (George Miller and George Ogilvie, 1985)

Brazil (Terry Gilliam, 1985; “Fifth and final cut”, 1996)

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (Terry Gilliam, 1988)

Willow (Ron Howard, 1988)

Cusp year: Batman (Tim Burton, 1989); Ghostbusters II (Ivan Reitman, 1989)

While one of the greatest space fantasy films of the 80s, I’m not examining it.  With Lucas’s constant meddling and CGI distractions, he has permanently ruined Irvin Kershner’s epic work.  Disqualified.

Critic’s Notebook: Unpopular Causes, Part V

Two Personal Favorites: Spook Country (2007) and Domino (2005)

Spook Country

The toughest challenge for any author is to follow up a big hit with an equally big hit.  Following the epic genius of Gravity’s Rainbow, Thomas Pynchon released the misunderstood novel Vineland.  In the case of William Gibson, he experienced career resurgence with the release of Pattern Recognition, an “empathetic thriller” about advertising, intelligence, and an elusive video.  Gibson set the novel in the present and it reads like a strange relic, an artifact set in a world after 9/11 but before YouTube.

Spook Country follows the same general template.  Modern setting, strange characters, and a thriller plot.  Unfortunately, not everything clicked into place.  Despite the reprise of Hubertus Bigend, the showy yet elusive Belgian CEO of Blue Ant, and a plot involving intelligence and geospatial art events, the novel lacks the forward momentum of Pattern Recognition.

When measured against the genius of Pattern Recognition, Spook Country falls short.  On its own terms, Spook Country still has a lot to offer a reader.  One thing Gibson excels at is the description of modern commodities and emergent technologies.  He would make an awesome reviewer for Wired or the Cool Hunter (thecoolhunter.net).

Because all the characters are a little off, it gives their descriptions of experience an added gloss of skewed intensity.

Each sentence has the economy of a Zen koan:

“How long was one expected to live one’s life in the tautly strung fug of Brown’s curdled testosterone?”

“The seats back there, upholstered in that gunmetal lamb, obviously reclined, becoming beds, or possibly chairs for high-end elective surgery.”

One longer passage is especially fascinating in its mash up of vintage sci fi tropes and the history of the Frankfurt School:

Milgrim doubted that Gray’s comforted Brown, exactly, but he did know that Brown could become relatively talkative there.  He’d have the nonalcoholic piña colada with his franks and lay out the origins of cultural Marxism in America.  Cultural Marxism was what other people called political correctness, according to Brown, but it was really cultural Marxism, and had come to the United States from Germany, after World War II, in the cunning skulls of a clutch of youngish professors from Frankfurt.  The Frankfurt School, as they’d called themselves, had wasted no time in plunging their intellectual ovipositors repeatedly into the unsuspecting body of old-school American academia.  Migrim always enjoyed this part; it had an appealing vintage sci-fi campiness to it, staccato and exciting, with grainy monochrome Eurocommie star-spawn in tweed jackets and knit ties, breeding like Starbucks.  But he’d always be brought down, as the rant rolled to a close, by Brown’s point that the Frankfurt School had been Jewish, all of them.  “Every.  Last.  One.”  Dabbing mustard from the corners of his mouth with a precisely folded paper napkin.  “Look it up.”

Spook Country is not a great novel, but it has touches of verbal brilliance in the otherwise sluggish plot.  While not the best example of a thriller, it stands out as a lucid investigation of the commodity fetishism in late capitalism and the intersection of technology, art, and espionage.  Sometimes its just better to find enchantment in the words.

Domino

Unleash the awesomeness!

Insane and insanely memorable scene in otherwise forgettable action movie: Tom Waits as the stigmatic preacher in Domino. Domino is remembered, if at all, as Tony Scott’s single most visually incoherent movie, but there’s a sequence at the end, scripted by Donnie Darko mastermind and all around nutter Richard Kelly, that stands out for its batshittery. Before sexy bounty hunter Domino Harvey and her motley gang head off to their doom in Las Vegas, they stop in the desert for a chat with a crazed prophet who happens to be bleeding from his palms. Of course he’s played by Tom Waits, and of course he spouts a bunch of gibberish about destiny, and it almost redeems the rest of the movie, which is basically a migraine-delivery system.  (Matt Christman, Worse than Hitler, December 15, 2009)

Domino is the story of bounty hunter Domino Harvey.  Tony Scott directs and Richard Kelly provides the script.  Portrayed by Keira Knightley, Domino is a lone female in the male-dominated shadow world of professional bounty hunting.  It is a journey in a legal gray space where criminal and lawman become interchangeable identities.  Kelly complicates the matter by opting against the garden-variety biopic formula for a more hallucinatory telling, mixing autobiographical and fictional elements with anarchic glee.

The real Domino Harvey.

Unfortunately, like Spook Country, Domino fails in its goal.  Domino’s hallucinatory journey becomes a migraine-inducing experience, director Tony Scott amping up everything.  Cuts, process shots, and colors are thrown together in a manner usually associated with cinematic Antichrist Michael Bay.  The story is great, but the direction is dizzying.

While still a cinematic failure, it remains a personal favorite of mine.  Part of this enthusiasm stems from Knightley as a gun-toting badass in the mold of Gina Torres from Firefly and Claudia Black from Farscape.  More characters like Domino Harvey would be a welcome addition to the action movie landscape.  Spastic direction mistaken for storytelling would be a welcome subtraction.

Domino is a fun movie, just one that requires a motion sickness bag.

Critic’s Notebook: Unpopular Causes, Part IV

Nathan Rabin and the Countercanonical Critique

The AV Club has carved out a niche of reputable pop cultural criticism.  Nathan Rabin has been profiled before in the Art of Reviewing.  It focused on his unique style and examined his ongoing series My Year of Flops.  Rabin’s bombastic style plays off his subject matter, whether it is a movie that bombed at the box-office or a hip hop review.  Rabin has expanded his critical eye to include country music (Nashville or Bust!) and pop ephemera (THEN! That’s What They Called Music).

Movie flops, the NOW That’s What I Call Music! compilations, and country music constitute a growing countercanonical critique of pop culture.  Each has a distinct relationship with “the popular.”  Rabin dissects the commercial flops, placing them in three categories: Failure, Fiasco, and Secret Success.  The categories are terms lifted from the agonizingly whimsical rom-com Elizabethtown.  Box office receipts are misleading values, since film is a collective collaborative art form.  A work of genius (say, 12 Monkeys) could succeed in technical execution, but flounder from a mishandled promotional campaign.  Other works, like Bladerunner, become genre gold-standards even though they did not reap major box office sales.  Time has rewarded Bladerunner, it has not rewarded Battlefield Earth, a badly executed trainwreck whose only appeal lay with cinema fans with a masochistic streak.  Bladerunner could be considered a Secret Success, while Battlefield Earth is a Fiasco.  A work that lacks campy outrageousness is simply a Failure.  Fiascos have the morbid appeal of a car crash.  Failures are just boring.

In Nashville or Bust! Rabin brings his critical acumen sharpened by listening to hip hop and translates it into fascinating profiles of country music stars.  The connection is not an obvious one, especially since hip hop and country music suffer from being caricatured by mainstream pop.

Answering all the questions and cliffhangers from NOW! That’s What I Call Music 71.

Rabin explains his aims in THEN! That’s What They Call Music:

So I thought it would be interesting, edifying, and, yes, even a little arousing to listen to the entire NOW That’s What I Call Music! series in chronological order to see what the albums say, individually and collectively, about the way music has evolved and devolved, and to explore some of the weirder and more obscure nooks and crannies of pop culture.  …

A strange spirit of musical democracy pervades the CD. It’s a curious world where one-hit wonders like Marcy Playground breathe the same rarified air as Janet Jackson and Radiohead. For a brief period, they were peers, at least where Billboard and NOW That’s What I Call Music! is concerned.

Part of the train-wreck fascination of NOW That’s What I Call Music! involves seeing familiar songs in bizarre new contexts. To cite volume one’s most extreme example, Radiohead’s “Karma Police” is sandwiched between Aqua’s “Barbie Girl” and Everclear’s “I Will Buy You A New Life.”

(“Introduction,” February 16, 2010)

THEN! That’s What They Call Music! provides a countercanonical critique of pop music.  The NOW! series resembles a new Windows or Apple product, engineered for immediate obsolescence.  Rabin gives these disposable products a critical reading, albeit one loaded with jokes.  Unlike the movie flops, the NOW! CDs consistently sell out and remain popular.  The critique does not simply exist to attack and belittle, but is used as a means to parse the random assemblage of the ephemeral and the eternal in pop music.

The three series have Rabin championing unpopular causes – country music, movie flops, and NOW! CD compilations – and using the criticism as a means of examining the vagaries of aesthetics and industrial capital.

Up next, two personal favorites!

Critic’s Notebook: Unpopular Causes, Part III

Reappropriation: Camp, Kitsch, and Sincerity

“When something is just bad (rather than Camp), it’s often because it is too mediocre in its ambition.  The artist hasn’t attempted to do anything outlandish.” – “Notes on Camp” [1965], Susan Sontag

“Need more clarification? To his fans Liberace was the epitome of cultured taste, but of course we know he was kitsch. However, unlike the not-quite-weird-enough musical stylings of ABBA, say, or the Village People, Liberace-style kitsch is so weird, so outré, that hipsters find it impossible to appropriate as cheese. Liberace didn’t make his work inappropriable on purpose; others, however, have. The director John Waters, for example, described his (excellent) early films, which lovingly celebrate kitsch in an extreme, even terrifying way, as “trash.” He did so in order to prevent hipsters from fake-appreciating his work — as they’ve done with, e.g., the films of Ed Wood. Deploying the term “trash” was a brilliant anti-ironic maneuver on the part of a master ironist.” – “Kitsch, Camp, and Cheese,” Hilowbrow.com [June 5, 2010], Joshua Glenn

Beneath every hipster opinion is a root of contempt.  For the popular, for the mainstream, the straw men are various and sundry.  A similar position of championing the unpopular involves camp and kitsch.  Unlike the fake-appreciation of hipsters for Pabst Blue Ribbon and the accoutrements of working class garb, fans of camp and kitsch embrace certain cultural products with a passionate sincerity.  Camp and kitsch, while similar, are not the same, although the popular press and consumers often confuse the two.

Camp reappropriates culturally disreputable works in a kind of counterintuitive appreciation.  A work that is generally abhorrent and awful (example: Zak Snyder’s 300) can be repurposed.  As a standard action film, 300 represents the nadir of the genre.  But what if one watches it as a comedy?  The Heavy Metal Librarian asserts:

I predict that, in ten years, 300 will have the same type of following that Rocky Horror Picture Show has today: ie, it will be aired after midnight at theaters in college towns all over the country, attended by audiences of gay men and people dressed up in costumes from the movie, who will recite the dialogue word for word, throw popcorn at the screen, and laugh uproariously at parts that are supposed to be deadly serious. After all, the only real difference between the two movies is that the latter is intentionally campy. (from the post, “Wank the Spartans”, Heavy Metal Librarian, September 14, 2009)

300 is unintentionally campy and pretty hilarious when read that way.  Sontag differentiates the Camp from the bad by the outlandishness of its execution. 300 fits the bill.  The Heavy Metal Librarian catalogues 300’s outlandishness:

300 is one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen in my life.

I was reminded of the film’s brilliance when it made its television debut this past weekend. Seriously, it’s perfect. What other movie gives you:

  • Howlingly bad dialogue (“because freedom isn’t free” sounds like something from George Bush’s wet dream)
  • Rampant homoeroticism (buff, chiseled, shaven-chested Greeks prancing around in underwear and capes) in an allegedly tough-guy war movie
  • An enemy, the Persians, who manage to simultaneously look like a cross between an al-Qaeda training video and a Gay Pride parade from Mordor
  • Said enemy led by Xerxes, a ten foot tall Rupaul clone obsessed with making people kneel in front of him

The undeniably homoerotic element in the movie is its most amusing aspect. After all, there exists a high correlation between people who think that Islamofascists are hiding under their beds and those who believe that Teh Homosexual Agenda is attempting to subvert their children. The fact that this crowd loved 300 constitutes further scientific proof of the Foley/Haggard Theorem (“The Degree of one’s Homophobia is Directly Proportional to the Depth of one’s Closet.”)

The same reading could possibly be made for John Wayne’s performance in The Green Berets, but most definitely for his turn as Genghis Khan.

Kitsch is a much harder beast to cage, since it is typified by terrible artistic production.  Embracing Art Nouveau lamps and Busby Berkeley musicals can be Camp.  Embracing Keane paintings and the Left Behind series is kitschy.  Unless one sincerely believes the idiosyncratic Bible interpretation of the Left Behind series, it is a challenging work to champion, let alone read, on any level.  Where Camp succeeds in surely executed outlandishness, Kitsch fails because of shoddy craftsmanship.

Camp

Kitsch

This brings us to a reckoning point: Sincerity.  (The weasel word “authentic” will be avoided, mainly because of the associations with fake-authentic cultural products.)  Can one appreciate a disreputable genre or film or book with sincerity without falling into the traps of Kitsch and Camp?

Up next, Nathan Rabin!

Critic’s Notebook: Unpopular Causes, Part II

Unpopularity as Popularity: or How to be a hipster.

“Every aspect of hipster culture amounts to little more than an elaborate pissing contest.  …  Hipsters ignore rules because they think it will make them look like they don’t care. There is no end result, just a continuous cycle of mediocre indie rock and scruffy looking dudes. By basing their actions on avoiding the mainstream, they are in fact guided by the mainstream.” – “Cracked Topics: Hipster”, Cracked.com

You’re not cool enough.  The bands you like aren’t unpopular enough.

Hipsters, the annoying quasi-subculture, has its own uses and abuses of unpopularity.  What began as a critical response to mainstream pabulum has ossified into a motley assemblage of fashion cues and empty posturing.  The position has become the posture.  In the words the Ango-Catholic royalist conservative poet T.S. Eliot, “Shape without form, shade without colour,/Paralysed force, gesture without motion” (“The Hollow Men”, 1925).  Reaction has become paralyzed by its own desperate need for acceptance as “not mainstream.”  The negative dialectic between the Mainstream and the Hipster yields nothing more than “mediocre indie rock and scruffy looking dudes.”

The crux of the Hipster Ethos is unpopularity.  So long as you liked such-and-such “before it was cool,” then you can join the anointed ranks.  Unlike previous generations who have fought and battled for acceptance as Cool, the hipsters go one step further, creating a posture almost Masonic in its occultic nature.  (Not necessarily occultic in terms of cult behavior, although there is enough of that, it is based on the other definition of occult.  Occluded, hidden.)  Hipsters cherish their acceptance of bands and films otherwise unknown to the mainstream.  Unlike a critic who wants to spread the good news and let everyone know about lesser-known writers, filmmakers, and musicians, the hipster will keep such information hidden.  They will only disclose the information in catty comments disparaging the philistinism of their quarry.

Where the Mainstream is produced.

The hipster’s dismissal of the mainstream also requires a definition of what constitutes the mainstream.  The Mainstream is characterized by populist middlebrow entertainments engineered to appeal to the broadest audience.  Taking the water metaphor for what it’s worth, every mainstream has its tributaries, estuaries, and rivulets.  The hipster posture comes close to the Luddite ethos, except instead of wanting to smash the machines of industrialization, they snark about the latest Hilary Duff album.

A dark analogue of the hipster appears in the Tea Party movement.  The Tea Party members resemble hipsters; one only has to find the parallels.  While hipsters disdain the Mainstream, the Tea Party presumes they speak for the Mainstream, even though they are a small but loud minority within the greater spectrum of American conservatism.

So doesn’t the extremist position immediate invalidate any claims for speaking for the majority of the population?

Instead of the Mainstream, they use the moniker “Real America.”  Robert Anton Wilson’s phrase rings true with them.  “Reality is what you can get away with.”  In a multicultural, multilingual secular democracy, they have the arrogance to assert that White Christians (read: extremist Protestants) in rural towns are “the Real Americans.”  In the words of Alicia Silverstone from Clueless, “As if.”

The Tea Party members are the hipsters of American politics.  They confuse their own misperceptions about America and think that everyone resembles them.  They inhabit the same fishbowl as the Williamsburg hipster.  Just exchange the Founding Fathers for the Arctic Monkeys, since both possess the same garish fashion sense and mocking contempt.  Both reduce any critical discussion to shrilling catcalls and wooden postures more about appearance than content.

Up next, Kitsch and Camp!

Critic’s Notebook: Unpopular Causes, Part I

“In place of a hermeneutrics we need an erotics of art.” – “Against Interpretation” [1964], Susan Sontag

Challenges and Non-Responses

The job of the critic is, by turns, tastemaker, evangelist, and champion.  The best critics harness the powers of intellection and enthusiasm to inform his or her readership on a work’s merits.  If a work receives more merits than demerits, than, in a roughly mathematical fashion, the creator obtains a “good review.”  This reviewer finds works with “mixed reviews” or polarizing reactions (see Jonathan Littell’s The Kindly Ones) most attractive, since “mixed reviews” are not sure things.  A tiny element of surprise exists when encountering the work.  It could be awful, but it could also be great.

Hollywood’s economic base was not built on good movies.

The critic faces challenges when encountering works that are not contemporary or from a creator with a prestigious reputation.  A book that has just been published offers a critic a tabula rasa.  He or she can imprint first impressions and create a reaction that will be integrated into the cultural understanding of the work.  There is critical reception, consumer (read: “popular”) reception, and overall sales.  Hollywood has made millions on good remakes (Steven Soderbergh’s Ocean’s Eleven) and terrible remakes (Harald Zwart’s The Karate Kid).  The balance between these three axes (critics, consumers, and sales receipts) will be the focus of this essay.  Included are two works which I personally like, although both have been critically maligned, albeit not without good cause.

The challenges are myriad for any critic desiring to exhibit his or her worth to the critical community and the readership at large.  If the critic has no taste, why bother reading the reviews?  The subjectivities of taste can be intimidating, especially to two particularly annoying sub-species of readership.

The first sub-species are the Fanboys (and Fangirls).  Critical taste evaporates and a hardcore evangelism permeates every reaction.  Whether it involves CGI, the works of Ayn Rand, or Angelina Jolie raiding tombs, the works are transfigured from mere pop culture artifacts to quasi-religious relics.  This is glaringly evident in champions of J.R.R. Tolkien.  Only a philistine would dismiss Tolkien’s place as founding father of modern high fantasy.  On the other hand, just because he was one of the first to write high fantasy, it does not mean Lord of the Rings is any good.  I found the work an overlong tedious bore written in stilted language.  Tolkien wrote in a style to emulate the cadence found in the King James Bible.  One also sees manifestations of this fanaticism of reader reviews of Atlas Shrugged.  The positive reviews are gushing.  Many say it is the best novel ever written.  To which any sensible critic would ask, “The best novel compared to what?”  Rabid fanatical fandom is hard to deal with.  Instead of Al-Qaeda strapping dynamite to their torsos, fanboys bomb discussion threads with bombastic rhetoric that veils an utter lack of critical sensibility.

Turnoffs: Judging people, things, etc.

The other sub-species are Egalitarians.  Unafraid to offend anyone’s tastes, the Egalitarians short-circuit discussions with non-responses.  These include, but are not limited to the following:

  • “You believe what you want to believe.  It’s your opinion.”
  • “To each his own.”
  • Twilight may be badly written, but at least it encourages kids to read.”

It is enough to make people gnash their teeth and pull out their hair.  Literary criticism is not about the First Amendment.  That is a given.  The right to an opinion involves having one in the first place! Otherwise, the person renders the entire enterprise pointless.  While these two positions are not necessarily politically analogous, the Egalitarian position crops up in many subscribing to the pieties of the Left.  (Full disclosure: This author finds pieties of the Right and the Left absolutely insufferable.  Political pieties are a waste of time.  What matters are concrete results.)

Concepts like multiculturalism and tolerance have invaded the confines of aesthetic criticism making everyone suffer in the process.  People have become afraid of criticizing a work on its merits and then being accused of racism, sexism, and other epithets.  Works should be included in the Canon based on merit, not on tradition (defenders of Dead White Males) or on representation (defenders of everyone excluded in the Traditional Western Canon™).

In the determination of a work’s merit, exclusions will have to be made, but a work should also be judged on its own merits.  Troma films have their own bent brilliance, despite their tiny budgets, broad acting, and lunatic plots.  One can champion just about any cultural product (film, book, TV show, album, etc.) with sound arguments and sincere affection.

Up next, Hipsters!

“I liked __________ before they were cool.”