Misplaced Vaudeville

This summer, while I was working as a cashier I read, among other books, Truman Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's. Last weekend, I finally saw the perhaps more famous film adaptation (which in my opinion wasn't as good as the novella). One of the several things that I wasn't a huge fan of was the portral of Mr. Yunioshi. I realize that the movie was made 50 years ago, but the overblown stereotypical depiction of him seemed unnecessary and forced. At times he did provide some comic relief, but not in the MacBeth Porter kind of way. Problems with political correctness aside (which I have no real intention on touching on) it just seemed like an unnecessary distraction.

This is what I think separates the book from the movie in the case of Breakfast. In the novella, Capote writes like a more concise Hemingway; succinct and almost journalistic. The prose is beautiful, and by the end of my workday I was almost done with the book. The movie, on the other hand, felt like it ran long, and in comparison didn't have the same movement. A great example of this is the aforementioned Mr. Yunioshi and the role he played in the film. In an article I read today called Ethics, Stereotypes, and Holly Golightly (Link Here) Mr. Yunioshi's role is described as excess vaudevillian humor, common in the works of the films director Blake Edwards. It then goes on to discuss the place for and ethics of comic stereotypes in the author's opinion. It's an interesting and relevant article, especially when it points out how pervasive comic stereotypes are in film and television, often in the name of self-deprecation (e.g. Tyler Perry & Woody Allen).

Altruism and Aid

The class discussion on Friday about whether doing something that helps the less fortunate is self-motivated reminded me of an article my friend had to read for his African Studies Class. It is a satirical piece called "How to Write about Africa." (Link: Click here) In it there are a ton of stereotypes writers utilize to evoke pity and guilt. Here's an excerpt:

"Among your characters you must always include The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless. She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment. Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction)."

This article, although satirical, brings to light the very mentality that was mentioned in class. People don't only do nice things because it helps other people. They do get attention. They do feel good about themselves afterwards. It would be foolish not to take these outcomes into consideration when trying to discern one's motivation. At the same time though, I think a lot of people really do care too.

Why Were They Elite? Conspicuous Consumption

In Perfect Cities, it talks about how the elite class was in and of the middle class, and yet defined itself through expensive things like high fashion items from Europe or funding an opera. I think this is an important point in American History. Basically, this is to say that there was a class of people that gained utility (or happiness) from spending money. Not even necessarily from the things they spend the money on, but the actual act of spending money gave these people utility and this mentality continues today. While this was happening in Chicago and New York, there was an economist that grew up in Nerstrand, right down the street from Northfield, that was about to change economic thought forever. This man was Thorstein Veblen.

Although he was considered for a position at St. Olaf, his religious views (or lack thereof) prevented this him from being hired. So he settled for Carleton. Then he went to University of Chicago to teach, where he published Theory of the Leisure Class in 1899. In this book, Veblen turned the neoclassical economic model upside down. Literally. This guy had upward sloping demand curves. He said that there is a leisure class, would conspicuously consumes goods solely because they are expensive, and that by consuming them they set themselves apart from the lower classes. One of these goods was having leisure time. If you had time to just lay around or travel it meant that you were well off enough to not be constantly working.

But what did this conspicuous consumption do to the demand for expensive, unnecessary goods in the lower classes? It raised the quantity demanded. All the elites were doing it, so it because popular and as a result the working class emulated the upper or leisure class, except the working class didn't have the means to do so, thus keeping them in the working class. I believe that this holds true today, but this shift in American culture happened right around the time we are currently studying. This summer, I worked at a carwash. I was one of the only employees there that was working there seasonally while on break from school. The rest of the guys worked there to provide for themselves and their families. Believe it or not, you don't make a ton of money working at a carwash. However, I also happened to be the only one there without a new smartphone. The owner had an iPhone, the manager had an Android, and the guy in back that vacuums and is essentially illiterate, and the guys out front that dried the cars all had smartphones too. Out of all the people mentioned, maybe the owner would be considered part of Veblen's Leisure class. The rest, mostly recent immigrants, were just emulating. Maybe it's the American way.

(Read about Veblen and Saint Olaf: here)

Why Coherence is Important

Taken from The Book Bench: Worst College Essays 1989:

"Nicholson has become a chomping-machine of language, recycling stock phrases, appropriating whatever drifts into his path. His words are nothing but echoes; but, as André Topia writes of the nameless narrator of the “Cyclops” chapter in “Ulysses,” the words are struck from a matrix, an idiom of the voice which destroys and sublates their origin. In “Ulysses” and in “The Shining” there is “this phenomenon of near possession which makes the Nameless One, though re-saying the already-said, seem to be bringing it into existence for the first time. He becomes its origin and founder.” The text is the absurd writing of one determined to write all the same, to produce text, to sign whatever texts come his way. Each line of text bears his own signature, “Jack”; he writes to saturate the void with his own subjectivity. But this “writing project” does not cheerfully consume the boundary between text and play. It is hermetic, a pure and rather fragile exertion of writerly will which is shattered by the intrusions of its only reader, the woman named Wendy. Jack would have been content to type for ever and ever and ever. But the spell is broken, and he stalks way. In the Gold Room, the fatally disconnected under-zone of play, he finds a fin-de-siècle soirée in progress; after a drink of Jack Daniels, he dances about for a bit—if you will, a cha-cha on the floor of the Grand Hotel Abyss."

Read more http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2011/10/worst-college-essays-1989.html#ixzz1bFJm1pep

The article talks about a writing trend of "incomprehensible pseudo-Derridean gobbledygook" that swept through colleges in the late 80's. This hits on a point I don't think was mentioned in Style. Although this paragraph obviously lacks coherence, it does it on purpose. Great writers can and usually do disregard a lot of the "rules" of writing as presented in style. The difference between them and college students like me is that they're just that: great writers. They can do so because they've already mastered the rules. After I read A Farewell to Arms I was trying to using the Hemingway run-on, punch sentence combo all over the place. This included places where I shouldn't have like religion essays and biology test questions. Although imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and by mimicking and playing with the decadent prose of a favorite author with its flowing phrases and alliterative cadence every once in a while you may create a masterpiece sentence fit to appear in a Hemingway novel full of emotion and expression extolling the very feelings you wish to express. Or maybe else you won't.

(See what I did there?)

The Other Side of Westward Expansion

According to a new book by Susan J. Matt, America didn't expand because of a bunch of pioneers who heard the call of the wild and headed West, but instead by a bunch of individuals that would be more at home singing Camp Granada and sobbing than extolling the virtues of Manifest Destiny.

This book, Homesickness: An American History, goes on to tell of how this theme of homesickness continued all the way up until very recently, and now there seems to be a return to the old sentiment as well. Here's an article I read today from Slate talking about these trends: Slate Article. This idea is interesting to think about in context to Helga as well last years theme of frontierism. Although homesickness when disembarking from home seems like it would be obvious, it doesn't seem like the fact that immigrants or pioneers are leaving their family and well established home to come to America or head west is really in the front of one's mind when they're reading the history books.

"Are we there yet?"

Wanderlust in Quicksand

In Quicksand, it seems like Helga always wants to be somewhere different than where she is. This is a feeling I can relate to, although for very different reasons than Helga. Helga is often unhappy, and thinks that by relocating herself her problems will automatically be left in the place she just left. She learns of course that this is not usually the case. Her problems are not a product necessarily of the location in which she resides, but instead a result of forces of discontent inside of herself.

I on the other hand, love to travel. I'm not talking in the normal way either. Most people like to go on vacations to new places where they can relax and see new things. This is only partially why I love to travel. For some reason, I inherently relish the "traveling" part of it too. Not just the being there, but the getting there and getting back too. Generally people don't like going to the airport or riding on trains and really just want to arrive at their destination. I personally enjoy that transit, and the more modes of transportation the better. I compare and contrast subway and bus systems every time I'm in a new city.

For example last spring break I told my parents I planned on going to take a bus to the Cities, walk to the Megabus stop, then get a ride to Madison where they could pick me up. This wasn't good enough for me though, so instead I bought a new overnight bus ticket, got a ride to the airport with a friend, hung out at the airport because I had some time to kill before my 10:30pm departure, took the light rail to the Mall of America to get some dinner, took the light rail to the Megabus stop, overnighted from Minneapolis to Chicago, then took a train to as close to home as I could and had my friend pick me up. It was a lot of traveling from 4:00 PM to 9:30 AM but I loved the whole thing.

I think for me traveling really comes down to the adventure of it. When you travel there's a lot that one can't control. If a plane is late you can't do much about it but make the best of it. And in accepting this vulnerability to the forces at work there is a freedom. This may be why I like to travel alone though too. For a college visit 2 years ago I flew out to Philadelphia by myself and then took a train to meet my cousin, with whom I would stay for the night. I realized early on in that excursion that I was completely in control of what I could do in that no one could tell me what train to take or which route to walk, and at the same time I was completely vulnerable to the systems of transportation I was utilizing. And since then I've had this uncontrollable urge to buy a bus or train ticket on a whim to a city where I may or may not know anyone solely for the thrill of traveling.

Coherence in Drive

If you haven't seen the film Drive yet, go see it. Here's a trailer:

I hesitated to embed the trailer at first because it doesn't even begin to do the movie justice. If you couldn't tell by my blog posts thus far, I like to read books. I like some movies, and I really like movies when they remind me of reading a book. One of my absolute favorite movies, The Royal Tenenbaums, is actually formatted to feel like you're reading the story of the dysfunctional family of child prodigies, complete with chapters and, at parts, Alec Baldwin narration.

This post isn't about The Royal Tenenbaums though, it's about Drive. Part of the reason I liked drive so much was that it felt like a novel. I'm assuming it was incredibly well adapted from the novel by James Sallis, but since we're all friends here I haven't actually read the novel yet. Within the film though there is incredible pacing and anticipation. The main character, played by Ryan Gosling of Notebook fame, is simply Driver. He has no name (reminiscent of O'Conner's A Good Man is Hard to Find, to some degree) and rarely says much. The beginning of film is about as slow as a movie about a getaway car driver can be, but when the first shot is fired the pace excellerates at a blistering pace. This slower start makes the events that transpire after all that more startling.

While the chapters in Style for today were more about writing persuasive or academic pieces, I think that limiting what can be learned about coherence to that narrow scope would be a mistake. Whether it be a scholarly journal article, a movie with Ryan Gosling as a getaway driver, or a blog post about a movie, coherence is important. And on that note, I will admit to what causes me to lack to coherence most in these often rambling blog posts: what in the chapters was refered to as "Failure to Revise."

A Few Thoughts on the Nobel Prizes

The coverage of the Nobel Prizes have been all over the news lately, if you've known where to look for it. They should be getting more media attention today because of the announcement of the Nobel Peace Prize winners around 4am CST, but the announcements have been coming out all week for several of the other prizes.

Although I'm not gonna say that this week is the more grown up equivalent of a little kid's Christmas, I am gonna say that I really like the week when the Nobel Laureates are announced. Because the prizes are based out of Norway, the announcements are made when I'm fast asleep dreaming about price consumption curves and mac and cheese in the caf. This gives me a little something extra to look forward to before I head to class. I've already read who is expected to be in contention this year, not that anyone really knows for sure except the committee, and when I arise from my slumber I can see just how right or wrong the "experts" and betting sites were. For example, this morning although some sources thought Twitter had a chance of winning for it's aid in facilitating Arab Spring, I was almost certain this wasn't a real possibility and when the Peace Prize was announced a statement from the committee chair even said something like although we appreciate the bloggers for getting the word out, these three women have shown incredible dedication to their cause.
What I really like about the format of the Nobel Prizes is the anonymous nature of the nominations. Because no one but the committee knows who is really in contention, everyone else has to just speculate who they think even has a chance. The best part about this is that it forces people to really think about who has done something great in their field. So while Syrian poet Adonis still didn't win the Prize for Literature, the fact that his name is perennially thrown around still says something about the work he has done.(Swedish poet Tomas Transtromer won this year.)

Even though the committee has well-known biases, and a lot of people don't really understand the criteria for their selection, just the existence of this series of annual Prizes has some value in and of itself because of the conversation it creates. And we all win as a result.

Now I wait until Monday for the last, and one of my favorite Prizes, Economics.

While not directly related to class (as in AmCon) this piece by Malcolm Gladwell was an interesting read on admissions at Ivy League colleges and is related to class (as in social class) as well as ethnicity. I read it during work last night. It was an interesting situation because I was reading about alumni relations and why legacy students have so much higher of an admission rate at schools like Harvard (and maybe here? I couldn't tell you, but there are a lot at Olaf too) and how schools essentially create a elite brand for themselves all while calling Olaf alumni and asking for gifts to the school.

This of course reminds me of what Conan said about the alumni association in his Class Day speech to a Harvard graduating class several years after his own graduation:

These people just raised $2.5 billion and they only got through the Bs in the alumni directory. Here’s basically how it works. Your phone rings, usually after a big meal when you’re tired and most vulnerable, and a voice asks you for money. Knowing—you’ve read in the paper—that they just raised $2.5 billion, you ask, “What do you need it for?” There is a long pause, and the voice on the other end of the line says, “We don’t need it, we just want it.”

Anyways, here's the Gladwell piece: http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/10/10/051010crat_atlarge
Here's a transcript of Conan's speech: http://www.allowe.com/Humor/book/COBspeech2k.htm

And here are videos of it:

It's awesome, and well worth the 20 minutes.

The YMCA

After viewing the music video for the YMCA for first time in at least 5 years, I saw something I had never seen before. I can see how it can be taken as a "gay anthem" within the context of Gay New York and I had known that at least a couple of the members of the Village People were openly gay. What I really saw this time though, was the overwhelming theme of acceptance.

In a piece for Spin.com called "Y.M.C.A. (An Oral History)" (found here: http://www.spin.com/articles/ymca-oral-history?page=0%2C2) in which the Village People are interviewed, there is contention in the responses over whether or not Y.M.C.A was in fact a "gay anthem." Sure, it was probably written with sly nods to gay culture but then the song hit the mainstream with its catchy hook and famous synchronized letter forming dance that has been turning everyone and their uncles into a bunch of cheerleaders on the family wedding dance floor for ages. And when it made that shift into mainstream popular culture, for a large part of the audience a lot of those cheeky references to gay culture were completely unnoticed. If you don't think that's true, think back to the aforementioned family wedding or party. Think about all the people out on the dance floor for when the YMCA comes on. Is super socially conservative Uncle Rick on the sidelines as a matter of character and principle?

So if the YMCA isn't necessarily about being gay, what is it about? Well, what struck me most from the Spin article was this little gem from Roger Bennett, coauthor of Bar Mitzvah Disco:

"Y.M.C.A." is the single most important song to hit the Jewish religion since "Hava Nagila." And paradoxically, not one of the Village People is Jewish. But they did play a critical function, providing a slew of new role models for Jewish youth. We were under such pressure to become bankers, accountants, and lawyers. They opened our eyes to other career possibilities: a cop, a builder, a flamboyant Indian..."

While this too is meant to be somewhat funny, the sentiment is there all the same. It's a song about acceptance. It's a song about having somewhere to go when you need it. And most importantly, it's a song about having fun. That's why it's so popular. The YMCA isn't somberly scolding the "young men" saying they need to go to the YMCA to turn their lives around. It's fun to stay at the YMCA. And the Indian, Policeman, Construction Worker, Cop, and Military Man are clapping and stomping together on the side of the road having a good time telling you so, so it must be true. And Uncle Rick who doesn't think it's right for the Indian and Policeman (who is straight by the way) to be able to marry each other, but he's on the dance floor clapping along and having a good time too.

(Disclaimer: Actually Guy Lauzon from the House of Commons. I google imaged "Conservative Guy" and got very literally Guy, who is a Canadian Conservative. I have no idea where he stands on gay marriage. The picture works all the same. I don't know what your uncle looks like.)

Prohibition

Yesterday, on CBS Sunday Morning Mo Rocca contributed a piece about the Prohibition.

The Prohibition is still incredibly relevant when you take the time to think about it. Primarily, few realize how much influence the short period of America's history had on the this country. From the only repelled Constitutional Amendment to the rise of Walgreens, the US wouldn't be the same with out the Prohibition period. It's relevant to the decriminalization of marijuana discussion that's taking place, and to Gay New York, and to living on a dry campus. I'm not going to spell out my stances on these three relationships in this blog today, (maybe someday soon though) but I do think that this time period that is to oft overlooked as just a "We made a mistake" period isn't credited for how influential it was, or how it remains relevant today.