Hobbit

Filmed as a prequel to the Lord of the Rings series, this first part of The Hobbit covers approximately half of the book as written by J.R.R.Tolkein. It begins with an aged Bilbo Baggins (Ian Holm), Hobbit, writing out his tale for Frodo in the idyllic shire of Bag End.

As he narrates, we meet the younger Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman), who lives a sedentary life in his hobbit hole and wants for nothing more than a relaxed and peaceful existence. This is not to be, as he’s been chosen by the wizard Galdalf (Ian McKellan) to aid a pack of thirteen dwarves in their quest to reclaim their mountain home (and the gold therein) from the dragon Smaug.

Bilbo refuses Galdalf’s initial invitation to adventure, and retires to his William Morris-inspired hobbit hole for dinner. Just as he’s plating his fish and sitting down, the first knock comes, and one of what soon grows to a rowdy crowd of twelve ravenous and rude dwarves invades his home and pantry. They noisily eat all the food as Bilbo helplessly protests, and it is only when Gandalf returns that their reason for being there at all comes clear to Baggins. Bilbo is very cross, and notes that his house has been rendered extremely untidy by the dwarves—who then proceed to sing a jolly song about his worry over being eaten out of house and home and concern over his heirlooms as they clean up and stack all his tossed-about but un-chipped and now clean family china.

Some of the dwarves look askance at Gandalf’s choice of Baggins to be their burglar, especially their late-arriving leader, dwarf prince Thorin (Richard Armitage). Bilbo, doubtful about leaving his hole and the Shire, initially refuses to sign the contract offered him, and then faints almost comically. By morning’s light, the house is spotless, the sun is shining calmly, and the dwarves are gone. Bilbo looks about, and quickly decides to join the dwarves, running after them and catching up with the group in the forest.

On their first night out, three hungry computer-generated trolls capture all of them except for Gandalf. The trolls’ antics are along the lines of a cockney three stooges, with snot jokes, and predictable slapstick violence. Once all the dwarves are trussed up for consumption Bilbo makes himself useful by delaying the trolls into remaining outside until the sun rises, when Gandalf strikes a stone that lets the rays through to turn them to stone. The group then finds the troll’s cave, and in it a hoard of treasure which includes some elven swords of high quality, with which they arm themselves.

Gandalf finds one that is just Bilbo’s size and gives it to him. At Bilbo’s protests that he wouldn’t know what to do with it, Gandalf insists that, “Courage is not about knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one.” Such dialogue as there is in the film is of this simplistic quality. McKellen and the others, all fine actors, deserve better. Further, it is only when such lines are delivered that the action takes a pause. Meaningful looks are exchanged briefly, and the audience is expected to nod along with the wisdom as the music swells emotively.

One evening, the group is camping out when sounds of orcs waft across the landscape to their ears. When one of the dwarves scoff at the idea of being attacked, he is taken to task by an older one who tells the tale, via vertiginous flashback, of the loss of the dwarves’ home, Erebor, through the usurpation by Smaug, and the subsequent battles with others to retake it, focusing on one particular battle with the Orcs in which Thorin showed himself a true leader by snicking the arm off of Azog, leader of the orcs.

This battle, as with the others of the film, is portrayed primarily in computer generated images. The scale of the fighting—the entire screen is filled with tiny writhing figures—creates confusion for the viewer. Yells of combat, and the focusing in on particular acts of violence do little to clarify the situation, and the scene is brought to sense only through heavy narration by the old dwarf. The actors involved are visually treated in such a way as gives the impression that they, too, are computer generated or articulated models, and the overall effect is that of a high-quality video game.

The villain, the orc Azog, a mere name in the book, was presumed dead after that battle, but is a persistent foe for Thorin in the film: providing an excuse for running, growling creatures, and excessive battle scenes and chases. His menacing appearance is familiar—the hulking, pale, muscular and angry type having been seen in Prometheus this past summer, for example. Indeed, quite a bit about the film is familiar.

Obviously designed for the 3D theatres, the film’s scenery is unrelentingly huge—vast sweeping landscapes give way to vast underground caverns or vast claustrophobic crevices. All kingdoms seem to be built with perilous bridges over incredible drops into distant nothingness, be they dwarvish, elvish, or goblin. There are boulders which roll at the audience, flying debris which comes at one, and on and on, forever on, until it seems no cliché is left untouched when it comes to falling, being smooshed, or otherwise tricked into a sense of vertigo.

This is all part of what passes for excitement in major Hollywood films, if the previews are anything to go by; of six films advertised before this adventure, five had scenes of falling off cliffs or other high places, being almost crushed by flying debris, and other narrow escapes followed by a sigh exchanged between those involved right before something else almost kills them.

Considering what can be done with 3D, as displayed by the documentaries on the dancer Pina, and The Cave of Forgotten Dreams, one hopes for more when the technology is made available to those who work from a starting point of imagination. Unfortunately, the aim of Jackson and company seems not that of bringing a good story to life, nor even a mediocre one, but rather to distract the audience from what is lacking.

The use of bombastic battle scenes, and the near-elimination of some actors behind CGI imagery meant to terrify or startle can only go so far, as the action does little to move the story forward and the patience of all but the most die-hard fans in the audience is sorely tested by its near-three-hour length.

In a visit to Rivendell, Maxfield Parrish-inspired homeland of the elves, the dwarves, Gandalf and the hobbit learn the names and legends of the swords found in the trolls’ cave, as well as having the secret parts of the ancient map of the Lonely Mountain they carry decoded by one of the higher elves. Gandalf also presents, in a meeting with the elves Galadriel (Cate Blanchet), Saruman (Christopher Lee) and Elrond (Hugo Weaving), a sword given to him by the reclusive wizard Radagast (Sylvester McCoy, of Doctor Who fame) which proves to be a relic of ancient evil and which will, no doubt, figure in the next film.

It is also in Rivedell that Gandalf declares that, “I found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love.” This was not a line from the book, though it did express a certain sentiment Tolkien subscribed to. Though not necessarily pacifist, the Lord of the Rings and associated books have an intention of exposing the horrors of war, and the struggle between defeatism and hope comes into play quite strongly in his writing. It is, therefore, an incongruous line to find in this film adaptation, which goes to great lengths to depict violence and honor as if it can only be found therein.

The scenes involving Gollum, met by Baggins alone in the caverns under the goblin mountain in which the dwarves have all been taken prisoner, do provide an interesting interlude. One cannot help but feel for the creature, driven mad from isolation, when he realizes he’s lost his ring to Baggins. Though the scenes could have been accomplished more compactly, there is a latitude of emotion allowed on the part of the computer-generated Gollum (voiced by Andy Serkis, who was also second unit director of the film) which is denied that of the entirely human actors who are largely limited to pantomiming rage, fear, or posing heroically.

It is also one of the few places that Bilbo Baggins is allowed to develop at all. Freeman takes full advantage of the opportunity, and his grudging mercy at the end of the scene is, though we all know the ultimate outcome of that relationship, a convincing relief. If the rest of the characters were treated even half as fully as in this one segment, there could be some considerable depth to the film.

The final battle scene of the film, involving a showdown between Azog and Thorin, allows Baggins a chance to play the fighting hero. This is depicted as an unexpected twist. However, for all the surprise portrayed by those onscreen, it is unlikely there are many who did not see it coming. As with so much else in the film, the storyline has a predictability that does not stem solely from familiarity with the book on which it’s based.

In any event, Baggins’ sudden heroic turn wins him the admiration from Thorin, who’d repeatedly voiced his doubts about him, but who now declares he’s never been so happy to have been wrong. Having been deposited on a high cliff by the enormous birds sent by the elf Galadriel to rescue the group from the clutches of the orcs, the troupe looks to the distant mountaintop on which can be scried the lost home of the dwarves wherein a dragon awakes. And so the scene is set for the next installment. 

Published with revisions at:

WSWS.org

Had some help with this one.

Science fiction writer Ray Bradbury: 1920-2012

By Christine Schofelt and Hector Cordon 
14 June 2012

The death of American science fiction writer Ray Bradbury June 5 at the age of 91 in Los Angeles has prompted a good deal of analysis of the author’s work, as well as the rather flimsy claim by some on the political right that he was one of them.

Certainly, Bradbury did declare his admiration for Ronald Reagan and King Vidor’s film version of The Fountainhead (1949—based on the novel by Ayn Rand). In the months before his death, moreover, Bradbury expressed the wish that the upcoming election would see a reduction in the size of government, to be followed by a further reduction “soon.”

Bradbury in 1975

This only demonstrates that the relationship between the conscious political views of an artist and the sense he or she makes of the world through his art is not a simple or mechanical one. Bradbury, something of a “libertarian,” was a self-educated, or as he later put it, a “public library-educated” man, who even in his old age would hold readings to benefit a local library. His work evinces a humanism and sympathy for the oppressed completely at odds with the imbecilic selfishness of the Rand cult.

This is the same man, after all, who wrote stories such as “Way in the Middle of the Air,” from early editions of The Martian Chronicles, about persecuted African-Americans taking to the skies to settle on Mars, away from the bigots. Like so many of his stories, this is a hopeful piece, a search for a solution to a seemingly intractable problem on Earth. It was also a bold story to put out at that time—first appearing in Other Worlds in 1950, before the eruption of the civil rights movement—and shone a harsh light on the prejudice and violence faced by so many.

One might suggest that Bradbury, like other, more prominent literary figures before him, was “compelled to withdraw into the past” (Trotsky) by the conditions of his time. His oft-idealized hometown of Waukegan, Illinois made an appearance in a number of his works. Though generally writing about the future, Bradbury was often reaching back to the past with an almost Hawthorne-esque shake of the head at what science, technology and even desire had wrought.

In his own life, Bradbury rejected much of technology, agreeing only last year, for example, to have one of his books, Fahrenheit 451, released as an ebook. The writer was, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit of an eccentric, even a technophobe. He never learned to drive a car, quite extraordinary for a resident of Los Angeles his entire adult life. Bradbury did not board a commercial airliner until the age of 62.

Yet Fahrenheit 451 (1953)—about a future America where books are banned and a fireman’s job is to burn them—is remarkable for its almost predictive qualities when it comes to gadgets such as tiny personal radios, flat-screen televisions and in-ear communication devices.

Bradbury’s writing on occasion even inspired the development of such things. In an interview with Book Magazine in 1998, Bradbury explained, “I’ve never set out to predict. I just write what later seems to evolve and be true.” He continued, “I was in Japan working on a short film, and one of my hosts came to me and put a Walkman on my ears and said, ‘Fahrenheit 451, Fahrenheit 451!’ The young man who invented it had read [about such a device in] the story and decided to build it.”

There can also be genuine pessimism in Bradbury’s works. In Something Wicked This Way Comes (1962), for which he also wrote the screenplay, this comes out quite strongly. The attempts to change what the characters are not satisfied with—in most cases their ages—lead to disaster. Those who do succeed in altering their condition end up dead or enslaved, and the lesson learned by the central characters seems to be to just accept what is.

There was bravery as well in what he wrote. In releasing Fahrenheit 451 at the height of the anti-communist witch-hunt, Bradbury took a significant risk. However, the writer insisted that a statement against McCarthyism was not his intention. Although the novel was viewed and taught for decades as a work aimed against censorship, Bradbury often downplayed the latter issue, and asserted the danger he was warning about was the phenomenon of television.

One can view a video at his siteentitled “Bradbury on Censorship/Television” in which the author declares, “I wasn’t worried about freedom. I was worried about people being turned into morons by TV.” When the interviewer notes that Sen. Joseph McCarthy had banned books, Bradbury dismisses this with a casual, “Well, [President Dwight] Eisenhower said put them back, so it was, you know, a few days.” He exhorted librarians to “just quietly put the books back” if censors removed them.

It is doubtful that such comments will stop the use of Fahrenheit 451 as a literary “poster child” for those fighting censorship—after all, Bradbury noted this same thing in a number of other interviews over the years. However it does bring up the question of what happens when an author’s work takes on a meaning not consciously intended by its creator. Fahrenheit 451, far from being a mere complaint against television, is a beautifully wrought work which has inspired generations of free-speech advocates.

In his introduction to Dandelion Wine (1957), Bradbury makes a comment that may reveal more than the writer intends: “It was with great relief, then, that in my early twenties I floundered into a word-association process in which I simply got out of bed each morning, walked to my desk, and put down any word or series of words that happened along in my head.

Bradbury in 1959

“I would then take arms against the word, or for it, and bring on an assortment of characters to weigh the word and show me its meaning in my own life.”

Bradbury was in his “early twenties” in the midst of World War II, the greatest slaughter in world history. Did this and subsequent events have an impact on the writer?

According to Bradbury’s version of things, he wrote instinctively, with his unconscious mind creating the subject and his conscious mind giving it direction. Perhaps, for various reasons, Bradbury was unable to locate himself consciously as an opponent of racism, or McCarthyism. Perhaps his approach was the only way by which he could take on the complex and often grim realities of the time, and offer up his concerns and opposition. He seems to have responded to the difficult present with a series of morality stories encased within a semi-futuristic wrapping.

Bradbury was apparently compelled to project into the future a solution to the problems of racism, the threat of nuclear war, the stultifying atmosphere of the period. It may not be that Bradbury was “repelled” by the new, so much as he was deeply troubled by the post-World War II period. How could he not have felt the impact of the Holocaust, the dropping of bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the onset of the Cold War? Bradbury’s dilemma was one that confronted an entire generation of artists and intellectuals in the US, many of whom turned to the right and helped strengthen a reactionary cultural climate.

Bradbury’s output was remarkable: over 600 short stories, numerous scripts for films and (the loathed) television (including those he wrote for his own show in the 1980s and early 1990s), poetry, nonfiction and children’s books. Most impressive is the quality of the writing itself; he had a tremendous respect for language and brought to the science fiction-fantasy genre a standard to which many subsequent writers have aspired.

Bradbury himself was well read, and inspired by such authors as W. Somerset Maugham and Ernest Hemingway. In an early mantra typed in or around 1947, according to his biographer Jonathan Eller in Becoming Ray Bradbury (2011), he wrote, “Keep chapters to FOUR pages, no more than EIGHT pages. The purpose of a chapter is to contain ONE IDEA! And ONLY one! See Jane Austen! See Tolstoy, Dostoevsky!”

In his own uncompromising approach, Bradbury often found himself at odds, for example, with the writer and anthologist August Derleth, who, as editor ofWeird Tales, Bradbury felt was pushing him to produce formulaic work. He resisted and persisted, a struggle from which we have all benefited.

After decades in the book business

I left it. Sort of. I don't know if one ever really does. Example: While interviewing to get into the last bookstore I worked for I noted that I'd been reading the trade papers, though out of the business for about 4 years at that point. "You need to get a life," said the interviewer... Luckily, I was hired into another area of the company entirely.

So I worked there for five years, which is the longest I have ever worked anywhere, what with being a constant mover, and then last July I left and here I am living in the hinterlands now. It was, though, until the last six months, the best bookstore I'd ever worked in.

The reasons are many, but really it boils down to this: Management at the store hired us as and treated us like adults - adults who knew and loved books - which we are. In the time that I was there I was in charge of a variety of sections, business, politics, humor, self-help, outdoors (me, who'da thunk it?), for a minute health and sex, and I helped in romance (which provoked a lot of eye rolling on my part, so I had to leave after a while. It was mostly due to costuming anachronisms on the covers.).

Now... I miss books a lot, and do still alphabetize "for" other bookstores when I visit. ("No, no, you'll see, it's better this way...")

I also still read the trade papers, because I have a life, and it's books.

I Have Chosen to Stay and Fight- Margaret Cho

(Note - this ended up in the "Drafts" section - from 2007. Some things have changed - others not so much. I'm putting this out there to get it out of the drafts file, though it's not really really finished yet. Oh, but I did finish the book.)

Margaret Cho is an interesting person. I've been watching her for years- her standup and even a couple of episodes of her show, All American Girl. Her standup is hilarious. Her show was not so much, for a variety of reasons, over most of which she had no control. She has provided a voice (a very loud voice) for Asian Americans of my generation (30's), and I have suspicions that we went to middle school together.

Her book, checked out from the library, because I am poor but have managed to pay off my outstanding library debt from having mislaid a children's book, is I Have Chosen to Stay and Fight. I am about half way through it and may or may not finish it.

So far there is a politically semi-panicked unfocusedness to this collection of essays. Rife with swearing (fuck, mostly), most of which serves to detract from the point, and in one notable case, the beauty, of the thoughts struggling to get through. That notable case is in an essay called "good-bye", in which Cho catalogues, passionately, and heartbreakingly, what you will never be able to do again if you lost someone to the war. It ends:

"They're never coming home. Never. They bring back bodies, hidden beneath flags, pictures of which the government doesn't want us to see, but it's not them, anyway. They are gone, far away from this world, to heaven, I suppose, and, for their sake, I hope there is one, because here on earth it's fucking hell."

The piece itself is powerfull, and Cho's outrage is palpable, her words drag the reader into her emotion. Cho can write.

It is, perhaps, unfair to ask that someone so subject (and subjected to so much) to issues of identity- being Korean-American in America not be obsessed with it. Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area in the 1970's and 80's, she was surrounded by her Korean family, the Chinese and Japanese students in school, and all the stereo-types associated with what an Asian Girl Should Be- most of which she was not. She was not thin, she was not considered pretty (having a "fat face" was one of the "problems" her relatives let her know she had), and she did not excell academicaly. She was shy, scared, and lonely. A lot of this due to pressures from within her groups, and exclusion from the outside. She has every reason to be pissed off about it all, and she is.

She identifies herself in many ways- American, Asian-American, Feminist, etc. It seems she is having trouble just Being Cho at times, due, no doubt, to the afore-mentioned troubles coming up. The troubles relating to race and racial stereotypes did not end when she hit 18- even at the supposed top of the game, having her own show, she was forced to diet by the show's producers, was attacked by Asian groups for employing the "wrong kind" of Asians as characters on the show, and on and on.

Throughout the (first half of) the book, Cho expresses what can be commonly seen in the letters to the editors' pages across the country now- an impatience and confusion about the War in Iraq, a distrust of politicians. Also commonly expressed is a wish for change without any clear direction of what shape that change would take. She advises us that it is time to "Warrior Up", but is not really clear about what that means. Cho's exhortations to get "militant" seem to go nowhere, as what that means is likewise left unexplained. Militant how, exactly? Write letters? Voting is suggested, but this falls into the tired Anybody But Bush camp of rhetoric.

Dust Jackets

There have been a number of hardcover books coming out in the States of late which do not have dust jackets. I approve, just to get that out of the way. Recently I found a bag of dust jackets which I'd removed from the books so that they (the jackets) would not get tattered while the boy or I were reading/playing with/losing the books. The bag was crushed, of course, so all dreams of "someday I will sell this for a mazillion dollars,which will come in handy as there will be no social safety nets soonly" were dashed. I'll just have to keep stuffing bullion into the mattresses instead.

Dust jackets are a relatively recent invention, as anyone in antique books can tell you. The covers of books have long been embossed, or had pictures on them. For some reason, somewhere, it was decided that an extra layer of paper was needed. One boss of mine was very particular about the Care Of Dust Jackets. Do not use the side flaps as page-savers in Utah, just a warning.

Anyhoo- I like this new trend and have taken to snickering when I see an environmet-oriented book clad in the extra layer (ahem, Al Gore).

Some of the new books sans DJ are made in imitation of the older books, it's true, but a number of them are not, and the design is rather good. I am hoping that this will continue, or that attention will re-focus to the spines of the books, rather than the obvious advertisment factor of the Glorious Dust Jacket For Facing Out on the shelf.

And then another year..sheesh

I have not been doing nothing. Latest is this:

Remembering Maurice Sendak - published on the wsws.org today

~The death in May of Maurice Sendak just a month shy of his 84th birthday was greeted throughout the publishing, art and reading world with deep sadness. Sendak, perhaps best known for his book, Where the Wild Things Are (first published in 1963), was beloved by millions, and for good reason.


Whether Sendak worked on his own stories or collaborated with other writers, his portrayal of children was always humane, and often humorous. No matter the emotions involved, Sendak pulled no punches, and illustrations such as that of the fit-throwing Max in Where the Wild Things Are, or the range of feelings in the otherwise simple One Was Johnny (1962), are honest depictions of children’s intense feelings.


Sendak did not consider his books to be children’s books per se, remarking once that he did not believe there was an absolute demarcation between children’s and adult literature. He objected to the way children were treated when it came to literature, saying, “ ‘Oh, you can’t tell them this, oh you can’t tell them that.’ You tell them anything you want. Just tell them if it’s true. If it’s true, you tell them.”


What is clear in all of Sendak’s work is that he considered children to be complex beings possessing a full complement of emotions and all the wonder and distress entailed therein.


Although the writer said he had “an intense nostalgia, a passionate affiliation for childhood,” Sendak did not let that nostalgia descend into the mawkish celebration of a lost utopia. He rejected the trend to idealize childhood, commenting in a New York Times interview late last year, “There’s a certain passivity, a going back to childhood innocence that I never quite believed in. We remembered childhood as a very passionate, upsetting, silly, comic business.”


Since its release in 1963, Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are has been repeatedly pulled from library shelves by those considering it to be “too dark.” In the early days of the controversy, he calmly explained, “It is through fantasy that children achieve catharsis.”


The 2009 film adaptation by Spike Jonze, who worked closely with Sendak to bring the story to the screen, received a PG rating and again provoked comments about the work’s being “too dark” for children. Sendak’s response in this case was not as measured. His declaration that anyone who thought it unfit for children could “go to hell” was delivered with a characteristic bluntness. One could not help but cheer.


There is certainly darkness in his work, especially when compared to the often sanitized and one-sided offerings of most children’s literature. His last book, Bumble-Ardy (2011), about a pig’s birthday party, the first he had both written and illustrated in 30 years, raised eyebrows and some ire for his inclusion of the Grim Reaper (death) in the story. Although he did change the book so that the pigs drink brine instead of wine, Sendak waved off objections to the appearance of the Grim Reaper in typical fashion, saying it was the parents who were afraid of the “murderous” impulses children have.



Born in June 1928 in Brooklyn to Jewish immigrants from Poland, Sendak was himself very much aware from a young age of the uncertainty and darkness of life. His parents did not hide from him his own fragility, nor the deaths of a number of his relatives during the Holocaust.


Sickly as a child, Sendak was often confined to his home and left in the charge of his sister Natalie, later portrayed in Outside Over There (1981) as Ida: “Ida, very brave, very strong, very frightening, taking care of me.” Other family members were also transformed into characters in his books as the years passed; the Wild Things was based on his aunts and uncles who appeared to the young Sendak as unruly and, though well-meaning, potentially dangerous.


His ability to see and articulate the contradictions within people—for example, Ida’s simultaneous love for and impatience with the baby, the Wild Things’ tender and terrifying sides—is in itself a remarkable thing. His stories are intricate, even when very short, and children (and adults) have loved them for generations because of this. Sendak did not lie or cover up the frightful things in the world or in the minds of children. Rather, he sought to understand and to let us know that we were understood. Even when we were beastly.


He did not give in to pessimism, however, and there is also great joy to be found in much of his work. A Hole Is to Dig (1952), done with Ruth Krause, depicts children in often high, happy excitement as they define holes and other various things—often hilariously. What Do You Say, Dear? (1958), written by Sesyle Joslin, is one of the funniest books on manners ever produced for children.


The vast majority of Sendak’s works were done in collaboration with others, and he had an extraordinary ability to bring out the nuance in even very simple stories, revealing layers that might otherwise have been missed.


This author’s early personal favorite, Amos Vogel’s How Little Lori Visited Times Square (1963), displays the range of Sendak’s illustrative powers—Lori is by turns bored, curious, frustrated, bereft and overjoyed in his complicated journey, and every page is believable, though the story itself is a ridiculous yarn. As was the case with the vast majority of Sendak’s young creatures, human or otherwise, Lori is rendered with tremendous empathy.


There is one more book yet to come from Maurice Sendak. Set to be published in February 2013, My Brother Jack is a poem about his own brother, who died in 1995 and also wrote several children’s books, some of which Maurice illustrated.


Ultimately, Sendak was not only true to himself and his artistic vision, he was true to life itself.

And then a year went by....

And yes it did.

We had Memorial Day and all I can think about about it is that there's been a war on as long as I have been a mother. My son's entire life is shorter so far than the occupation of Iraq. So when I see recruiters at the Starbucks, my first thought is not "thank you", it's "stay the f*ck away from my kid, you jackals". Getting an email from his school district saying the budget needs emergency cutting and the size of the cuts is about 200 staff positions doesn't make me want to say "Hey, thanks for the freedom!", it makes me want to say, "thieving murderous bastards," because I think of the uncountable millions being poured into bullets and bribes.

This is not a popular position in certain circles or on certain days.

Do I appreciate the troops? I appreciate that they've been traumatized by being commanded to kill women and children and men. By "appreciate" I mean understand. I do not blame them - most of them started out like you and me, wanting to do something good, or looking for a way to support their own families and build a better future for themselves and the world. Some are sociopaths, they I do not appreciate. "Moral waivers" have been issued to allow criminals to engage in this criminal set of wars. Recruiters have preyed on autistic and otherwise unfit people to gather troops for these long long wars.

I appreciate that the returning soldiers will have a hell of a go trying to re-adjust (those who started out adjusted) to society. I appreciate that of three grandfathers who were WWII veterans and a dad who is a Viet Nam War vet that they never talk/ed about combat experiences and shy away from general war-time discussion except to remark on how nice the people they met and didn't kill were, and how much they miss the great guys who did not come back home. I appreciate that a lot of people do not get the help they need to turn off the kill switch and come to grips with what they did "for freedom". I appreciate that a lot of families suffer from the absence, and then return of, their relatives.

I appreciate that the President who is now in charge of these wars and un-manned drone attacks sends his kids to an expensive Quaker school. I appreciate that Congress can approve emergency war funding, but manages - twice, mind you - to go on vacation while letting unemployment benefits lapse because it would be "too contentious to tackle".

Yeah, hey, thanks.

On building houses

This is a preliminary analogy.

The land has to be cleared, the fence put up to secure the site. There are so many steps one does not think about - the blueprints in hand, one wants to just start building. I have a brick, I want to lay it down.

But is the ground even? Is there rubble, is there poison in the soil which will leech into the water system and kill the residents? These things must be seen and cleared. Protection.

Level the land - remove the garbage which has been so casually thrown into this field by passers-by and squatters, bulldoze the chunks of rotting wood and crumbling masonry - carry it away, do not just bury it - it is not needed, it is not wanted. Oh, that bit of marble looks salvageable, but for what? Does it have a place in the new house? I like this crystal doorknob, but will it open a door, or refuse to turn and therefore trap us in? Weigh it all.

The fence.
It is important. Yes, you want to live free - you want to roam, but this is not a fencing in - this is to keep monsters out. No, they are humans, but they have the hearts of monsters and would tear out yours. You need a fence. They will take a sledgehammer to your work when you're not looking and pour acid into the pipes before they can be capped off.

Materials - need to be strong but not brittle; flexible, but secure. You live in earthquake country - make sure this building has enough sway to not be knocked down, that the doorways are very strong.

You can apply paint, o, sure, but the walls need to be free of cracks, the floors need to support you, and the attic needs to not be cluttered with things you dig up in the back yard.

Ancillary Post

In these boxes from Random House we received:

A set of bookmarks (approximately 25) in the smaller box.
A publicity package of brochures in an 9x12 envelope in the larger box.

Why are they having fiscal trouble? One wonders, given the excessive amount of packaging and the attendant postage and time involved, how they have survived as long as they have. This is, I must point out, a company owned by Bertlesmann, a massive global publishing powerhouse which is undergoing re-structuring even now.

Book Business

While the past months have seen a sharpening of the economic hit taken by the retail sector, the recent weeks' news has been no less than startling in the publishing world. According to a November 24 report in the industry paper, Publishers’ Weekly, “Josef Blumenfeld, v-p of communications for HMH [Houghton Mifflin Harcourt], confirmed that the publisher has ‘temporarily stopped acquiring manuscripts’ across its trade and reference divisions.” He added that this is “not a permanent change,” though when new manuscripts would be considered was not stated. It is not clear as to whether manuscripts already approved and set for release would make it to bookshelves.

Blumenfeld also noted that any future manuscripts would be rigorously assessed for “market interest”. It is of note that “artistic merit” is not the primary criteria.

Houghton’s announcement comes on the heels of a leaked internal memo from the previous week wherein Random House, which is owned by the international media conglomerate Bertelsmann, proclaimed that it would freeze all pensions at their current level and would not offer pensions to people hired after January 1, 2009. There have since been reports of a major restructuring of the publishing housed under Random’s umbrella, with the number being reduced from five to three. This, despite the claims of the Bertelsmann website on November 11 that, “After nine months of the 2008 financial year, Bertelsmann reported a solid business development. The international media company achieved revenues almost at the level of the previous year in its continuing operations.”

Since these revelations, the news from the industry has grown increasingly worrisome; San Francisco-based Chronicle Books announced that it will be cutting back almost 5% of its staff due to the outlook for 2009. Macmillan has announced a pay freeze for staff earning $50,000 and over, and the establishment of a pool to provide for modest increases for those earning less. Penguin has likewise frozen pay for those earning $50,000 or more.

Over the last two decades, many publishing houses have been absorbed by non-publishing entities, and the emphasis has been on making fast profit for the shareholders, rather than on building a solid literary or cultural institution. In the last few years even the largest of houses have been taken over, merged with, or outright bought by enormous entities whose bottom line is not cultural enrichment. These new organizations show a lack of willingness to take chances on new literature, and a quick abandonment on any projects that do not garner immediate attention. As we are seeing with HMH, in tough economic times even the supposed raison d’etre of a publisher – to find and publish new material – is sacrificed to cut costs.

Concurrently, the retail aspects of the book business underwent several major changes – from the rise of the “big box” bookstores and the resulting explosion of retail shelf space at a time when readership had been declining, to the advent of the internet as a shopping venue. Both had an adverse effect on the more traditional independent and family-owned bookstores, with many going under, partly due to the publishers’ refusal of deep discounts which the larger chains were offered. A series of lawsuits by the American Booksellers’ Association in the 1990’s obtained cease and desist orders against such un-equal business practices.

The current economic situation is also felt by the large chains. Borders has been teetering on the brink of bankruptcy for months and its third quarter reports show overall sales down 10%. Should the company fail, the return of product would be more than most publishers could fiscally bear, and approximately 30,000 workers would be rendered unemployed. The ripple effect would also very likely take down distributing companies, who would be forced to reduce staff as well. What once might have been the dream of many independent booksellers would actually spell the doom of massive segments of the industry.

While certain independent stores are able to scrape by on the strength of the demand for used books, the resource is not infinite; it does take the publishing of new books to eventually supply that market. Were the publishers to fail, even the stores which exclusively sell used books would see their stock dwindle. In recent years, the number of failed independent book stores has increased, succumbing to the economic pressures of meeting increased rents and decreased sales.

The book business has not until recently been viewed as a means to get rich. Very often writers and sellers of the books have scraped by, their love for words and ideas taking precedence over profit. The same can be said of many publishers and presses, some of which have maintained that integrity and a number of which are still producing vibrant, unusual, and original works. Rather than banking on the Next Big Thing, or, as is more common now, The Next Blockbuster Sequel, they have built their reputations on presenting well-written, enduring works with an eye to artistic advancement. It is quite possible that they will triumph in the end - but it's going to be rocky for a while.

For C H by way of an answer

I will tell you a story about novels. For some time I wrote short and very short stories. Which thing I liked to do - idea, story, done. Next idea. I was also in a circle of people who were involved in the comic books industry. Many of them were successful to greater and lesser degrees, and most of them wanted me to be successful as well. So advice was offered and I, having never really thought about writing in terms of "success", listened.

"You need to write a novel. No one buys short stories."

The thing is- the implications of which I know now, but which didn't strike me right then - I used to give my stories away. I'd go to readings and read, or story groups and read. Sometimes people wanted copies and I'd copy them out (by hand - I had no computer yet). What I wanted was for people to enjoy the things. It seemed to be working, with people waiting for me to read, and showing up without stories of their own but wanting to see what I had made that week. It was really wonderful, and I am glad I did actually enjoy it at the time, as well as having the memories of it.

But I started writing a novel. And this was in 1994 or so. I have re-started at the 100 page mark repeatedly. It will eventually be a good story, and there are many atmospheric and lovely bits to it. I sometimes think of just assembling the fragments or de-sembling the fragments. Sometimes I think maybe it should take the form of a collage. It started on the backs of envelopes, and is in my old laptop now. I have recently re-started it with a different point of view. But it is about slaying monsters, and so is the writing of it.

There are times when I unproductively hate all the characters involved - good and bad and in-between - times when I have spots of affection for them. Some times I want to finish it, sometimes forget it. There are times when I feel I've killed my little children since the short stories are largely gone from me.

David McCord

It’s been over a decade since he died. I have a variety of angers about this.

On an artistic level, I am angry with him for killing himself- his stories were like nothing I’d read before; the ideas he had, and his raw turn of phrase showed the beginnings of promise being fulfilled. It was clear that he was suffering, and, unlike many people who attempt it, he was able to turn that into honest and good prose. It was exciting every time a little book came out- and I, who never cared for anthologies, would scrape together the pennies to buy one with one of his stories in it. I wanted to see where he was going, what his talent would bring, what would happen when he turned that corner into greatness. He was on his way.

I am angry that his mother died, and angry that she felt compelled to involve him in her death. I do not see how a mother could do such a thing, and yet, I do understand how a human being could be so ill, so much in pain, that sense abandons you and you ask to be put down. In this, my anger extends to medical practices and mores which forbid assisted suicide. How cruel a time and place, such cruel laws which put children into the position of killing their parents, and parents their children. In the name of “life”, they suck away any compassion, any future for those who have to take on the task unwillingly.

To the people who sold or gave him heroin…. There is rage there. There is too much rage. And for him, for taking it. For giving himself a deadline to stop which I sometimes wonder if he intended to meet, or if he intended to use as a period to get some things in order.

I am angry that Lisa has the memories of all this. I am angry that people still think of suicide as "romantic", that drug use it still - in some unhealthy circles - viewed as a "price we pay for genius".

For trying to bring Lisa along with him. For that, O, I am angry at him. I know he did not want to be alone. She loved him so - she did not want him to be alone- she would go where he went. It is one of the most unfair things in the world to ask someone to die for you who would willingly do it.

I am angry at me for not picking up the clues, even as they were laid right out there. “We’ll be with mother soon.” I almost laugh now- I did not know that she was in a vase on the mantle, did I? No, not until later that day. It was not too late then, but by the time I put it together, it was. Sitting on top of the hill in Oakland with him and Lisa, it just seemed an odd thing to say, but nothing so horrible, nothing so sinister, not an “Enjoy us while you can, though we are in extreme pain, because we’re going soon, because we’re in extreme pain”.

Oooh Gosh Not too bright

So, I forgot my password once again and couldn't post for a while. I am working on a couple of things, and will be up and running soonly.

Also- apparently periods and exclamation points are not allowed in post labels. It should be:

Oooh. Gosh. Not too bright. (So, why they mentioned the exclamation point in their alarming note, I do not know.) Oh, wait- the post label! Ahh.... Did I mention I'm not too bright? Haven't had coffee, neither.

Standing Up To The Madness - review

This review appeared in a slightly different form on the WSWS on May 27,2008

Amy Goodman and David Goodman, Hyperion, 2008 (Hardcover), $23.95

Amy Goodman is well-known as the host of Democracy Now!, the independent news program broadcast on a variety of public radio and television channels, as well as the author or co-author of a number of books on political events. Her views are firmly located on the liberal left, with an orientation toward “left’ elements in and around the Democratic Party, such as Rep. Dennis Kucinich, and the Greens.

David Goodman, Amy’s brother, has written for a number of left-liberal magazines including Mother Jones and the Nation, as well as more mainstream outlets such as the Washington Post and The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer on PBS.

Standing Up to the Madness begins with a well-known citation: “When fascism comes to America it will be wrapped in the American flag.” This saying, attributed to various people, has become something of a mantra in certain circles on the American left. The litany of complaints which follow—eroding civil liberties, increasingly stark economic divisions, the war in Iraq—are presented with no close examination. Each ill is viewed as having a single unifying cause, to wit: the Bush Administration.

No mention is made of the connection between the breakdown of democracy and the growth of social inequality, or between the predatory war aims of the US elite and the attacks on democratic rights at home. In a word there is no suggestion that the policies of the Bush administration reflect more than the “madness” of one individual or perhaps, at most, neo-conservative circles. The book never raises the larger question of the failure of the social and economic order, capitalism.

The question asked by the authors in the midst of it all is, “Where is the outrage?” To ask such a question is to insult the millions of people who have indeed expressed outrage, and who are suffering from the attacks described. By implicitly blaming the population for the lack of opposition to the assault on democratic rights the Goodmans shift attention away from the critical role played by the Democratic Party—the supposed opposition party—in enabling the rise to power of the Bush Administration through the hijacked 2000 election, the passage of the Patriot Act, the war on terror and the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan.

In Stop the Madness the Goodmans seek to set out positive examples of citizens who have taken on the powers that be, “grassroots activists [who] have taken politics out of the hands of politicians,” in the words of a commentator. Such individuals may be courageous and sincere, but their efforts become part of a political argument the Goodmans are constructing: these local, “grassroots” efforts obviate the need to challenge the overall political set-up and, specifically, to make a conscious break with the Democrats.

While few of the cases detailed in the book’s chapters will be new to listeners of Democracy Now!, since many of the subjects have appeared as interviewees on the show, there is value in reviewing the stories as part of a whole, in terms of painting a broader picture of the crisis and breakdown of American bourgeois democracy.

The first subject, Malik Rahim, of New Orleans’ Lower Ninth Ward provides special insight into what the residents of that area faced before, during and since hurricanes Katrina and Rita. It was through his and his neighbors’ efforts, along with an unexpected visit from a detachment of Veterans For Peace, that the area saw any relief in the initial aftermath of the storms. Unwilling to play games with people’s lives, he and his group offered help even to the racist vigilantes who had recently threatened them with violence.

Malik’s story is an anomaly in the book, as he is the only one who seems to have any sense of the history which brought his city to that desperate point. One of the founders of Common Ground Relief, a collective dating from the first few weeks after Katrina hit, Rahim and his neighbors are determined to salvage and rebuild whatever they can while offering help to others in the Gulf area. Of all the narratives in the book, his is the most affecting, and certainly the most dramatic.

While Rahim’s organization surely is doing good works, the area affected is far beyond the scope of any small organization to fix. The treatment of the survivors of Rita and Katrina continues to be abysmal, and resources continue to be lacking on the scale needed. Coming up on three years after the catastrophe, the people still face official stonewalling, constant threats to cut off what little aid they do receive and demonization by the press (not coincidentally around the expiration deadlines for aid packages).

The work of Common Ground is heartfelt and needed. However, it is not nearly enough. Rahim’s experience serves to point out the continuing neglect by the US government of pressing social needs as it pursues the war in Iraq and makes permanent tax cuts for the wealthiest citizens with bipartisan agreement.

The case presented in Chapter 3, “Librarians Unbound,” begins with a visit by two FBI agents to the office of the Library Connection of Connecticut (a consortium of 27 libraries that share a computer network). The agents were in possession of a “National Security Letter” (NSL) seeking “any and all subscriber information, billing information and access of any person or entity” using the library systems’ computers on February 15, 2005, between 2 and 2:45 p.m.

The executive director of the Library Connection, George Christian, noted in particular one clause stating that recipients of the letter could not disclose “to any person that the FBI has sought or obtained access to information or records.”

Christian, however, did tell a few people in the library system, and the executive committee met with its lawyer (an action that may very well not be legal under the draconian National Security Letter provision of the Patriot Act).

The librarians realized that they had two choices—either comply with the NSL, or sue. They elected to sue then-Attorney General Alberto Gonzales and engaged the national office of the ACLU to represent them. With their case, John Doe vs. Gonzales, they sought an injunction against being forced to comply with the National Security Letter, and launched a challenge to the constitutionality of the NSLs. Over the course of the trial, the librarians were required to keep mum and their names were only released inadvertently when a judge ordered the release of certain court documents.

As they do throughout the book, the Goodmans focus exclusively on the role of Bush when discussing the assault on civil liberties. We read, for example, that the Patriot Act was “rammed through a compliant Congress three months after the 9/11 attacks.” A page later: “When President Bush rammed the PATRIOT Act through a fearful Congress shortly after 9/11.” The complicity of Congress, and particularly the Democrats, in erasing the separation of powers and its leadership’s co-operation in passing and re-passing the sinister and authoritarian Patriot Act goes unmentioned except in terms of their supposedly being “forced” to comply.

In the chapter on American scientist James E. Hansen’s fight against official censorship of his findings on global warming, we are treated to a sub-chapter entitled “Showdown,” in which Rep. Henry Waxman, Democrat of California, is presented in the mold of Mr. Smith from the Frank Capra film “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington”—i.e., boldly challenging the powers that be on points of scientific freedom. Also featured are Reps. Peter Welch, Democrat of Vermont, and John Yarmuth, Democrat of Kentucky, both of whom are presented in a very positive light. The role of villain is played by Rep. Darrell Issa, Republican of California. Waxman is one of the Democratic Party’s leading frauds, a demagogue who issues subpoenas and stages hearings without serious consequences for anyone.

The Goodmans point out that both Bush and Cheney have deep connections to the oil industry. Unmentioned are the Democratic participants’ own backgrounds—for instance, Yarmuth’s previous career as both a Republican and as the heir to a family fortune derived in part from holdings in Ashland Oil Company. His current party affiliation, it seems, shields him from careful scrutiny by the Goodmans.

Hansen’s scientific career goes back decades, and the Office of Management and Budget had censored him during the previous Bush Administration. He also spoke about his disappointment with the Clinton administration in a January 2007 Frontline interview, stating that although the latter did not question the science, it did not do enough to act on the information provided, and noted that, “The United States’ portion of global emissions actually increased during the Clinton-Gore administration.”

The outcome of the more recent hearings into the Hansen case is left up in the air. While the authors note that certain low-level Bush loyalists involved lost their positions, there is no deeper analysis, with the chapter segueing into an account of the actions of author Bill McKibben relating to his April 2007 “Step It Up Day,” and a variety of other “actions,” including Ted Glick’s “No War No Warming” non-violent civil disobedience action on Capitol Hill in October 2007,” which incorporated polar bear costumes and at which 61 people were arrested.

It is a peculiar transition, and the authors’ spotlighting impotent civil disobedience actions is a transparent attempt to focus the energies of the population on pressuring the Democratic Party and Congress.

The chapter ends with a quote from Al Gore’s Nobel Peace Prize speech: “We have everything we need to get started, save perhaps political will, but political will is a renewable resource. So let us renew it, and say together: ‘We have a purpose. We are many. For this purpose we will rise, and we will act.’”

Meanwhile, as noted on the WSWS April 30, 2008, the proposals from the Democratic presidential candidates on global warming “are no more serious [than Bush’s suggestions to open ANWAR to drilling, and a moratorium on domestic emissions targets]. In addition to the [gasoline] tax moratorium, Clinton is proposing a suspension of oil input into the Strategic Petroleum reserve, a marginal increase in spending on alternative energy sources, and an increase in fuel economy over a period of 20 years. Obama has rejected the tax moratorium on the grounds that companies would just increase their prices to make up the difference, and supports fuel economy standard increases and alternative energy investment.”

While Standing up To the Madness provides numerous stories illustrating the current assault on civil rights, its recommendations in no way add up to a viable policy to oppose war, racism and poverty. The “Conclusion,” entitled “We are the leaders we have been waiting for,” is made up of tepid and unserious propositions. In a subsection titled “Challenge the Corporate Media,” there is first a call to support the stations that air Democracy Now!, a passage which makes for embarrassing reading in its shameless self-promotion. It is then suggested that we “Post ... stories, photos, and media at indymedia.org.”

We are urged to become active in the “national media reform movement”; web addresses are given for such entities as the identity politics-oriented Media Action Grassroots Network, as well as Free Press, which, while more even-handed, is still thoroughly reformist in its outlook and activity.

On page 288, the Goodmans write, “Democrats and Republicans alike have been served notice that lip service and deception will not satisfy the new generation of activists that is demanding real change, and real democracy.” Yet, there is neither a call for the building of a third, independent or socialist party, nor any critique of the capitalist profit system. There is, in short, no “or else” issued at all. The warning is proffered as an idle and impotent threat—one which reveals the role of the Goodmans as nothing more than a pressure group on the Democratic Party.

Literacy, bookshops, and publishing

In what has become all too commonplace, the month of February saw the announcement of no less than three bookstores' intentions to shutter their doors. One has since been purchased, and will hopefully survive.

After serving the community for 25 years, Hastings, New York's Good Yarns faced closure until a last minute buyer stepped forward. Prior to that, the store's manager William Tester spoke to the NYT in a piece from Feb. 24- "Unless someone comes along in the next few months who is both passionate about books and has the wherewithal to shrug off something as trite as profit...You have to have some maniac who is not interested in making a living.”

"With so many bookstores having closed their doors on Main Streets in Westchester, the passing of Good Yarns means the western side of the county will have no independently owned comprehensive village bookstore between Bronxville and Chappaqua."

Unless a buyer is found, Vail, Colorado's only bookstore, Verbatim Booksellers will close within the year. Speaking with the Vail Daily, Verbatim's owner Robert Aikens stated, “It has to be somebody who loves books, loves music, and loves Vail, who wants to keep a bookstore in Vail.” The store relocated in 2006 with the aid of $70,000 in donations.

Dutton's Brentwood Books, perhaps Los Angeles' best-known independent book store, has announced that it will close on April 30. Soon after the recent closure of their Beverly Hills location, the property on which the Brentwood's location sits was sold. The property's new owner plans to redevelop.

Doug Dutton, the store's owner stated, "We have been asked if the store will reopen in the proposed new development, or at another site in the area. At present, any plans to reopen or relocate will have to await a real offer in a real situation, combined with a sober assessment of the realities of the book world."

The realities of the book world include declining readership and the continuing conglomeration of publishing houses.

Literacy and Readership
Recent surveys have shown that fewer than half of the American public reads books once they leave school or university. To be sure, falling literacy rates have something to do with this, and this is something which is unlikely to change under the current system. Indeed, among the many human services cuts in President Bush's proposed budget for 2009 is the elimination of $25.5 million dollars for Reading Is Fundamental's Inexpensive Book Distribution Program, which has provided books to millions of low-income, migrant, foster, homeless, and military children since 1975. The program had been funded without interruption by Congress and six Presidential Administrations since its inception.

According to a press release issued by RIF's president and CEO, Carol H. Rasco, “The U.S. Department of Education has shown that the number of books in a child’s home is a significant predictor of academic achievement.” In an average year, working through various agencies the Inexpensive Book Distribution Program gives on 15 million books to over 4 million children who very likely would otherwise have none. Eliminating funding for the program shows, once again, this administration's callous disregard for the less fortunate, as well as for the future development and safety of the population. There has as yet been little protest from the Democratic-led Congress.

For all the hue and cry of Leaving No Child Behind, cut after cut has been made to academic programs from Head Start to Pell Grants. With the elimination of the IBDP, we see yet further decay in the educational infrastructure of this country. The amount of $25.5 million, less than a month's spending on the War in Iraq, provides vital literacy outreach to the poorest segments of our society. To claim that it can not be afforded is both untrue and speaks volumes in regards to where the priorities of this administration and Congress lay. That these cuts will hit hardest where NCLB has already deprived schools of money due to falling test scores means that there will be a further impoverishment for the students and families involved.

Founded in 1966, RIF's goal has been to improve literacy rates by involving adult volunteers, and providing training and materials. Studies have repeatedly shown that access to books greatly improves academic achievement, as does the active participation of caring instructors. RIF's efforts have included writing contests for children, reading challenges, and family literacy programs – all with the aim of bringing a love of literature and participation in writing to children from every background. We now see an enormously successful organization stripped of funding for one of their most effective programs.

The Publishing World
During the 1990's, the rise of the “big block” booksellers and the gobbling up of smaller publishers by larger houses and – in many cases- non-publishing entities threatened the well-being of a great number of independent bookstores. While overall readership was in decline, retail shelf space was expanding at a rapid pace.

Given the nature of the industry, one of the few in which the producer of the product (ie, publishers) sets not only the wholesale, but also the retail price, (roughly a 40% markup), the ability of the bigger stores to offer deep discounts rapidly imperiled many long-standing independent stores.

In the 1990's, the American Booksellers' Association along with a number of their member stores launched a series of lawsuits against the major publishers contending that the chain stores were being given an unfair advantage. In every case, the federal courts found the publishers in violation of the Robinson-Patman act when they offered bigger discounts to the chain stores than were made available to the smaller, independent shops. By the time the lawsuits had been settled, and cease-and-desist orders issued, a number of small stores had closed.

The major publishers, such as Bertelsmann, which owns Random House, Alfred A. Knopf, Bantam, Doubleday, Dell, and a host of other publishing houses as well as a number of newspapers and other media outlets, control not only the books which are published, of course, but also the press coverage of said books, and the film deals (often within the same company, such as with Time Warner, which owns both publishing and film companies).

In many cases, when a smaller press is taken over by a larger one, the “midlist”- consisting of steady but not block-buster sales- is dropped, and the money is put toward finding the “next big thing”, regardless of merit. Oftentimes, if a book does not make an immediate splash, its print run is cut, and copies are pulped or sold as “bargain books”.

What This Means for the Reader
As the sources for new literature are ever shrinking, and the emphasis is put on immediate sales, rather than producing quality literature, there is less reason to enter a bookshop. When what is on offer is an attempt to be the “Next Harry Potter”, or “New Sex and the City”, and so much space is given over to formulaic writing in pursuit of a fast buck at the expense of the development of new ideas and directions in literature, culture and imagination are left by the wayside. The shelf space has to be filled; however, contrary to predictions made at the dawn of the big box age, more space is not resulting in more selection, but less. In an effort to maximize profit, only the most bombastic survive. If a big box store does not commit to buying a title from a major publisher, the title has a good chance of being scrapped entirely.

A great number of independent bookshops offer an alternative to this scenario- focusing on local or small presses, or on specific areas of interest such as art or politics- offering a wide range of selection from many points of view. Many shops will hold onto a title in which the booksellers have confidence in or a love for, no matter how well it sells right out of the gate.

The loss of such shops, many of which are deeply involved in the communities they serve, is not just the loss of a business, but often marks the loss of a place where imagination is given inspiration. The loss of access to information and ideas not otherwise available- even in this day of digital availability- is something to be mourned.

Curse of the Romanovs - boogity boogity boo

For the past four or so years, I have been aware of the fascination with princesses. Disney's Belle, Cinderella, and etc have spread their sparkles over the eyes of the nation's children. It is annoying, but I try not to read too much into it most of the time (except for the afore-mentioned Belle of Beauty and the Beast, which has always struck me as a dangerously co-dependent kind of story; He's beastly, but if I love him enough he'll be a prince...) Anyhoo.

When it comes to historical princesses, however, I do try to see what is happening. Over the past few years there have been a few books on Anastasia, which personage has the dual advantage of being both royal and mysterious. Did she die, did she live? Poor kid! The hand-wringing over her fate is understandable from a human point of view, to be sure. It is not her fault that her father and family were tyrants, no. But she did benefit from the tyranny, and I wonder at the distinct dearth of hand-wringing over the fate of the children who were victims of the Tsar's pogroms.

Enter The Princess Diaries. Ostensibly the diaries of a variety of princesses, these books serve to suck the mind of the child dry of any historical perspective before it has a chance to take root. Naturally, there is one "by" Anastasia, which covers the war years and the revolutions of 1917. Without fail, revolutionaries (Menshevik or Bolshevik) are described as "rats", or "ugly". Horror is expressed at Lenin's idea that the country should be controlled by the workers.

Princes are also included now- with the publication of "The Curse of the Romanovs". Ostensibly a book about hemophilia, and time travel!, Alexi is the central character. He travels to 2010 in a time machine invented by Rasputin. There he visits- please sit down if you are not already- his cousin who is named- and I wish I were making this up, but I am not- Varda Ethel Rosenberg.

Varda. Ethel. Rosenberg.... Thereby adding insult to bad literature. The sheer insensitivity of naming a central character in such a book after a woman who was framed and killed for being a socialist would be amazing, had I not skipped ahead to the "further reading" section and seen that Pipes is recommended.

It is clear, in reading such books, that a labour of historical revisionism is hard at work. Workers, guard your children, for they are under literary attack.

Comte-Sponville part 2

Well, I liked the first part, where he laid out his terms. Now it's getting a bit muddled, really, and at times it seems back-track-y and at other times very hippy-dippy (with some due respect to hippies, but none to dippies). It is going to take at least a second reading to get a good handle on. As of today I will sum up as:

At least he's not trying to justify killing people. That's a step up, in my book, though it will be interesting to see where the next step lands.

Stones & Bones by Char Matejovsky

So, here's how it happened:

I was at work, manning the register when this guy comes in all white of beard and quiet of manner and he asks for his special order and I hand it over, intrigued by the cover, which, as you can see, shows a dinosaur painting a picture of a white-bearded guy.


Oh, dear, I think, this could be very bad or it could be pretty cool. - I will now admit that I have a suspicion of pictures of old men with big fluffy white beards. Usually some kind of santa or god is going to be involved. My prejudice proves wrong, I am happy to say, when the man who has ordered the book and who is receiveing it with obvious glee says, "It's evolution in verse."

The guy with the white beard is Darwin, or a reasonable and amiable facsimile. The verse itself is catchy, and does not give in to simplistic language- mitochondria, for example, appears in one stanza (and, remarkably, does not feel forced). The illustrations by Robaire Ream are well-done, at once intricate and clear.

Included with the book is a cd with the book sung by a children's choir quite charmingly.

Among my favourite bits:

Evolution's the solution
to the data that we find,
when we study bones and fossils
and we keep an open mind.

Along the way, we get a time-frame, and an acceptance that not everything is known, but that we have not given up on learning what we can and are looking for more knowledge. In all, a very exciting view of scientific discovery and interpretation.

Since this is from a small publisher (Polebridge Press), the book is a bit pricey (it was about $19.00), but it is library bound (which means durable), and highly enjoyable by both the four-year-old and the thirty-nine-year old. The next oldest generation also liked it.

www.stonesandbonesbook.com is their web address if you have trouble finding it in your local bookshop. I am also going to recommend a visit there to click on things- as there is a really neat timeline, and resources for parents and kids about evolution. I am rather thrilled about this.

General Complaint

There is the saying, "So many books, so little time". Well, as any reader knows, it's true. I am trying to prioritize my reading list, which grows every day. There are books which I read of political or educational necessity, books which I read because I missed them the first time around (having not been born in time to catch the first release of most 18th century literature), and books which Look Darned Nifty.

They pile up. I have a grand plan involving shelving everything in such a way as to have what needs reading isolated from what's been read. Or something. I have one involving a calendar and an actual plan- X in January, Y in February. Yah, sure. I have also agreed to co-chair a reading group for romance novels. (I know. I know- really, I do. We'll see what happens.)

This past year I read more non-work/politics-related stuff than I had in about a decade. I also read more politics stuff than the year before. I also decided that if I do not like a book, or if I do not properly hate a book (also valuable), then I do not have to continue.

For example- I hated the Christmas Box. A lot. But I lost my place and didn't want to re-infect my brain by accidentally re-reading any of it, so I let it slide. (It was horrible in every way I expected; bad plot, poor writing, and overwrought tugs at the heartstrings. Plus it brought back memories of Salt Lake in wintertime, which is a definite strike against it as far as I am concerned.)

I also did not totally read Blackwater- though it was informative in many parts. It just was not really anything new, since I'd been paying attention to the situation beforehand. I might still pick it up, but maybe not.

In any event, I look forward to finding some good books in the new year, and to finishing the good ones or really really bad ones I already have laying around.

I am hoping to discover a new hated author in the same way I look forward to discovering a new favourite. If I could find the opposite equivalent of Max Brooks next year, I will be happy to spend time underlining the especially egregious parts. I have not had a good underlining since Stan Rice died. Well, Harris came close.

The thing is, in order to really find such things, I have to go into it cold, or expecting the best. I need to keep an open mind in order to be either pleased or dismayed. I went into The Christmas Box expecting to hate it, and I did, but not gleefully.

Anyhoo. I am working on a plan. Or two. To organize my reading. Or I might just continue at it willy-nilly.

Also....Spreading the word

For those who cannot get enough of Carl Sagan, there is an interesting thing happening here:

http://kasranov.blogspot.com/

Kasranov has made a rather nice 40-minute episode of Sagan's Pale Blue Dot- using footage from here and there and scoring it very nicely indeed. He writes about the process of making the film as well. I am impressed and hoping for more. Now, more than ever, it's good to remember that rational thought can be expressed with grace, humour, and humanity. Thanks, Kasranov, for the reminder.