The Avett Brothers - I and Love and You

Had the latest album by the Avett Brothers for a couple of weeks now. I heard the title track on the radio somewhere (probably on 6Music) and was immediately hooked. There music could probably lazily be described as Americana, not so much because it has a "modern country" feel to the music, but more because they sing what it is to be American.

The title track describes the brothers leaving their early life in search of, well, the American Dream of course:

"Load the car and write the note
Grab your bag and grab your coat
Tell the ones that need to know
We are headed north"

They have a lovely way with a lyric, talking of a woman whose eyes shine "like a pair of stolen polished dimes" - well I liked it anyway.

"I and Love and You" is their major label debut, though they have released 13 albums (including compilations, live albums and EPs) since 2000. The current album is produced by the mighty Rick Rubin which coupled with the fact that it is released on American Recordings is almost recommendation enough.

Here is a link to Youtube video of the single I and Love and You - enjoy!

I have not yet delved into their back catalogue, but shall be doing as soon as funds allow....

Eichmann In Jerusalem : A Report On The Banality Of Evil

“Eichmann In Jerusalem..” is based on the court reports Hannah Arendt wrote for the New Yorker. Although some issues have been raised regarding it’s objectivity ( it’s claimed that Arendt’s treatment of the prosecution attorney Hausner bears the unmistakable stamp of a Western Jews contempt for the “ostjuden” for example ) it’s still provides some fascinating insights.

Eichmann was clearly conflicted. He was indignant at a suggestion that he beat a Jewish boy to death but entirely unrepentant for his larger role within the holocaust. He finessed the “Nuremburg defence” of “I was only following orders” with an appeal to Immanuel Kant as moral justification. It’s only in the light of this that Eichmann’s difficulty with comprehending the Gestapo’s bestial cruelty can be understood. It could be self-serving but it’s also credible that he considered that if his actions were consistent with the injunction to “avoid unnecessary suffering” then he was not culpable in any way. He’d merely discharged his duty. As his defence pointed out, he was on trial for something that in Nazi Germany would have seen him decorated.

The main line of defence hinged upon a “medicalisation” of the final solution. All exterminations, with the exception of the atrocities perpetrated by the einsatzgruppen, were “supervised” by medical staff. This allowed Eichmann, who on many occasions referred to “mercy killings”, to reframe the wholesale murders as “euthanasia” In this way Eichmann’s behaviour is shown to be entirely consistent with his, obscenely distorted, worldview. Ultimately Arendt’s view is still that Eichmann’s behaviour was indefensible and inhumane but can be understood if located within a rational framework. Not a monster. Just an ordinary man.

Considerably shorter and coming to a parallel conclusion is the following contribution from Leonard Cohen –

All There Is To Know About Eichmann

EYES:......................Medium

HAIR:......................Medium

WEIGHT:....................Medium

HEIGHT:....................Medium

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES....None

NUMBER OF FINGERS:.........Ten

NUMBER OF TOES.............Ten

INTELLIGENCE...............Medium

What did you expect?

Talons?

Oversize incisors?

Green Saliva?

Madness?

No Excuses For Poor Memory

Friday’s post on “The Road” was originally about how puzzled I was that the book club discussion had seemed to miss the point. I could see how one person could be blinded by prose but not five. Eventually I realised “The Road” had never been a book club book. So a hastily revised version appeared on the benefits of book club discussion instead!

I can at least console myself that I’m in good company. Not only could Montaigne never remember the books he’d read he also struggled to recognise essays he had written. In an unintentional irony Will Self was on the radio this morning talking about the republication of Montaigne’s essays. Although I’m a fan you could say that Will Self has a similar problem – he sometime forgets the novels he writes have already been written. But then again “What do I know?”

The Ghetto Fights (Warsaw 1941-43)

Marek Edelman was a leading member of the ZOB (Żydowska Organizacja Bojowa) the Jewish Resistance Organisation that led the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. The Ghetto Fight is his personal testimony.

Initially the collaborationist Judenrat remained committed to the prospect of the “resettlement to the east” held out to them by Nazi’s. Although the existence of Treblinka and the final solution was known to the Jewish bund it was simply not believed outside of these circles. These circumstances, combined with the illegal policy of collective responsibility ensured the relative passivity of the ghetto population.

By late 1942 however it was obvious to large sections of the population that there were no labour camps. After talks between the Jewish Bund and various Zionist political groups a joint battle organisation was formed. When The Nazi’s second push for deportations began in January 1943 it was met with concerted resistance. Poorly armed and vastly outnumbered the ZOB inflicted heavy casualties. Unable to dislodge the Jewish resistance fighter the Nazis put the Ghetto to flame. Thousands perished in the ensuing conflagration, either burning to death in the attics and hideouts or shot fleeing the flames. Edelman and a small number of insurgents escaped through the sewers to join the Polish partisans.

The Ghetto Fights is at times a harrowing read. What lifts it are the tales of individual acts of heroism, the final passages a testament to the kind of courage that is beyond imagining. It’s an important book and deserves to be more widely known.

The Road

I realise I’m laying myself open to a “What have the Romans ever done for us” moment here but I’m trying to segue seamlessly into the blog entry with this so bear with me.

Film adaptations are always a mistake. If you’ve seen the film versions of “Atonement”, “The Naked And The Dead” or The Human Stain you’ll know what I mean. Although there are exceptions to the rule, Burt Lancaster in “The Leopard” is a shining example, I think it’s ok as a rule of thumb. (I’d also cite Bladerunner as a counter example here but I’m sticking to book club books and, in any case, it’s a film that plays fast and loose with Philip K Dick’s Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep” anyway)

At a little under two hours John Hillcoat's “The Road” just falls short of being another exception. It’s a faithful recreation of the novel. It’s unremittingly bleak and at times unbearably sad movie. Not for the faint hearted, it’s particularly resonant if you have kids. It does have one advantage over the book. Although I wouldn’t have said this of the book at the time, McCarthy’s prose dominates. Or it dominated our discussion of it? Although the films fidelity to the novel is almost total it seemed to me, as a stripped down visual piece, more provocative. This might have more to do with how I read “The Road” in the first place. Perhaps, If you’re seduced by the prose you blunt it’s purpose? Maybe concentrating on the aesthetics reduces an appreciation of the moral,ethical and philosophical complexities.

Anyway this a roundabout way of saying that bookclub books benefit from the discussion. I’m reasonably certain at some stage these issues would have surfaced and the books impact would be the better for them. I'd also remember. I certainly won’t forget the conversation with Brid in a hurry. It’s not often you discuss how best to mercy-kill your children and at what point you can legitimately abandon hope. In fact, I don’t think I’ve heard Brid use the word kill so often since the time I forgot our wedding anniversary!

No One Writes To The Colonel

This collection of short stories, like a lot of Garcia-Marquez’s work is set in the fictional town of Macondo. The Colonel, a retired veteran of the Thousand Days War, is waiting for his pension. He’s been waiting for 15 years. Every Friday he walks to the dock to await the arrival of the post boat. Every week he’s disappointed. Struggling with poverty and financial insecurity their only lifeline is a rooster – itself the surviving link to a son lost to political repression. The rooster’s training will be their salvation once the cock-fighting season begins. How to eke out the interim two months is the problem. However, it’s Garcia-Marquez, so an exploration of the impact of the back-grounded political corruption and violence is the real point of the story.

Although “No One Writes To The Colonel is the “standout track” (Bolano called it perfect) the remaining stories hold their own. The setting of Macondo creates an air of familiarity (or, if you’re uncharitable, a nagging sense of déjà-vu ). Perhaps in anyone elses hands this would mean anyone unfamiliar with “One Hundred Years Of Solitude” would lose out. It’s a testament to a Garcia-Marquez’s skill that they read so well as stand alone pieces. That’s how I read them anyway. After 20 or so years the only thing I reliably remember is the title!

Literary Fashion Victims

There’s an essay in Robert Sapolsky’s “Monkeyluv” about sticky personalities. It’s a socio-biological attempt to explain why some people return to the same CDs or order the same dishes at restaurants. (not just because you like them, apparently). I like to think he’s not talking about me but the content of my bookshelves wouldn’t necessarily support this view. If I chance upon a particularly good author I like I buy the back catalogue. Like most compulsive book buyers my capacity to buy outstrips my ability to read (I have about 50 books on my TBR pile with no sign of the reading gap being bridged)

So sometimes it’s a relief to chance upon a dead author safe in the knowledge that the reading gap is, at least, not widening. The drawback is, obviously, once you’ve finished there’s nothing left. I’m not much of a re-reader so if it’s a recent demise I’m at the mercy of the literary agent. They’ll probably decide to comb the back catalogue of unpublished manuscripts for neglected work but it’s a commercial rather than aesthetic choice. I bought ( and read) Nabokov’s “The Original Of Laura” & Raymond Carver’s Beginners ( an unedited “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love”) and I’m chagrined to find out that behind their publication stands the shadowy figure of Andrew Wylie ( affectionately known as “The Jackal”). It’s an open & shut case - I’m a literary fashion victim.

Occasionally, however, you strike gold. Roberto Bolano’s “The Last Interview” (a filler bridging the gap to the publication of “Monsieur Pain” in February) is a fine example. I’m retro in my belief that what an author thinks about, frames his work. So I like to think that "hearing him talk" about books gives me a greater appreciation of his output. But it’s also gratifying to know that an author you admire shares some of your obsessions (He wished he could write like Philip K Dick.) Bolano was also brash,arrogant and opinionated so perhaps PKD isn't the only thing we have in common!

Darwin Was No "Darwinist"

"Nothing is more dangerous than a dogmatic worldview - nothing more constraining, more blinding to innovation, more destructive of openness to novelty." — Stephen Jay Gould




Richard Dawkins has been called the new Darwin. It’s an attribution that his legions of mostly fawning followers would vigorously defend (See RichardDawkins.net, ludicrously subtitled “A Clear-Thinking Oasis”, for some textbook sycophancy). If you thought this idea had any currency then “The Selfish Genius” by Fern Elsdon-Baker should put you straight.

Dawkins has written extensively on Darwinism but it’s possible to identify some themes that preoccupy him

-Darwin was a lone and cool voice of reason crying in the wilderness
-Darwin believed selection was the only evolutionary driver
-Atheism is a necessary consequence of a proper understanding of evolution

This presentation is remarkably supportive of Dawkins own views
Unfortunately for Dawkins, however, "The Selfish Genius" examines the basis for them and finds little empirical evidence.

The first section provides an historical overview that locates Darwin within a scientific and theological community largely receptive to the idea of evolution. It also touches upon Darwin’s thought on the mechanisms “driving” evolution and shows they include the idea of use and disuse drivers (for Dawkins a Lamarckian heresy). Ironically, Dawkins view of evolution with its exclusive emphasis on selection is shown to owe more to Wallace & Weismann than it does to Darwin. This is not exactly breaking fresh ground - Stephen Jay Gould said this years ago when he labelled him a neo-Darwinian. In fact this characterisation of Dawkins is remarkably apt. This is the same label that Darwin’s close friend George Romanes used to describe Wallace and Weismann’s articulation of the theory. Despite the lack of fit Dawkins presents his ideas as a seamless continuation of Darwin’s work. Clearly, attempts to cloak your own views with the respectability of another’s authority is an age old trick. However, it’s ironic that Dawkins should make consistency with the scriptures the litmus test of respectability. In this he’s a little like an evangelical Christian! In his wilful(?) misrepresentation of the writ he’s a lot like a Stalinist!

The second section is devoted to Dawkins’ public role promoting the public understanding of science, particularly his more recent interventions into religious affairs. His thinking on religion although at odds with Wallace could not be called “Darwinian” for the simple reason that Darwin was a professed agnostic. This is something that Dawkins appears to have belatedly, and reluctantly, recognised. How he’s managed to suggest otherwise for so long is a source of wonder. However, the nature of Darwin’s faith is largely of historical interest. The real thrust of this section is an attempt to reframe the debate on religion and science. Elsdon-Baker believes that Dawkins’s approach is not just wrong-headed but also dangerous (Dawkins Dangerous Idea?)
Unfortunately, whilst Dawkins has shown considerable flexibility with regard to his day job (adapting it to incorporate the challenge of horizontal gene transfer for example) it’s here where he’s at his most dogmatic. You only have to bear in mind Daniel C Dennett’s phrase “Brights” used for atheists to get the flavour of the debate. Although Elsdon-Baker doesn’t go as far as Gould & Ruse in suggesting Science should steer clear of moral and ethical questions she recommends a more measured (rational?) debate.

As well as a plea for a less fundamentalist atheism the book is also a timely corrective to Dawkins’ self-serving misappropriation of Darwin. This misuse and distortion is not uncommon. Marx when faced with the use of his name to justify some of the more outlandish activities of the 1st International is alleged to have quipped “All I know is that I’m not a Marxist”. I’ve a sneaking suspicion that if Darwin was alive today, facing Dawkins’ version of evolutionary theory, he might want to deny his own name too.