DROPPING OFF a sculpture I sold to a couple with an incredible collection of contemporary art last night, I eventually turned the conversation to the fact that the United States may not have representation in the 2005 Venice Biennale. They shook their heads knowingly. The wife noted that our nation is adrift: “We have no national cultural agenda.” For those who don’t care much for fine art, it’s comparable to not having any American athletes in the Olympics. It suggests we simply do not care enough about such things to make the effort or spend the money to send our very best. It has many folks in the American art world in a funk, to say the least. It’s an awful blow to our egos.
AS I RODE the train this morning, I scoured The New York Times for a hot topic to rant on. Nothing even remotely sparked my interest. Then I found the Times’ third installment of Capote’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s (they’re reprinting installments of novels as part of their Summer Reading Free Book Series). “You don’t have time to indulge yourself with such trifles,” I thought. “Besides, you’ve already read the whole thing three times or more. Politics, War, Economic Strife…these are things worthy of your time…get serious. So much is at stake.”
A FEW YEARS AGO I became obsessed with trying to remember this short story I read in high school. I think it was titled “The Disappearing Act,” but I’ve been unable to find it or even verify that was its title. The story was set in the near future, and the world was in constant war. As I recall, generals and such were running the country, Spartan thinking was demanded of everyone, and creative endeavors were officially discouraged.
Then people started disappearing. Driving along in their car and then GONE. Hammering out a deal on the telephone and just VANISHED. It was officially denied by the government at first, when only a few people were disappearing, but soon there were so many folks vanishing without a trace, they had to do something about it. The final, chilling scene of the story has the country’s leaders realizing that they didn’t even have the skills to comprehend what was going on…they didn’t have the sensibilities to get their minds around the problem. Someone high up, rather frantically, begins commanding, “Get Me a Poet. We need a Poet.”
There simply were none left.
SO I READ the third installment of Breakfast at Tiffany’s on my way to work. It’s an American masterpiece. If you haven’t read it already, you really owe it to yourself.
Here’s a snippet (I rekeyed this, so please forgive any typos):
Sunday was an Indian summer day, the sun was strong, my window was open, and I heard voices on the fire escape. Holly and Mag were sprawled there on a blanket, the cat between them. Their hair, newly washed, hung lankly. They were busy, Holly varnishing her toenails, Mag knitting on a sweater. Mag was speaking.
“If you ask me, I think you’re l-l-lucky. At least there’s one thing you can say for Rusty. He’s an American.”
“Bully for him.”
“Sugar. There’s a war on.”
“And when it’s over, you’ve seen the last of me, boy.”
“I don’t feel that way. I’m p-p-proud of my country. The men in my family were great soliders. There’s a statue of Papadaddy Wildwood smack in the center of Wildwood.”
“Fred’s a soldier,” said Holly. “But I doubt if he’ll ever be a statue. Could be. They say the more stupid you are the braver. He’s pretty stupid.”
“Fred’s that boy upstairs? I didn’t realize he was a soldier. But he does look stupid.” [“Fred” is the narrator, who’s overhearing this converstation, fyi]
“Yearning. Not stupid. He wants awfully to be on the inside staring out: anybody with their nose pressed against a glass is liable to look stupid. Anyhow, he’s a different Fred. Fred’s my brother.”
“You call your own f-f-flesh and b-b-blood stupid?”
“If he is he is.”
“Well, it’s poor taste to say so. A boy that’s fighting for you and me and all of us.”
“What is this: a bond rally?”
“I just want you to know where I stand. I appreciate a joke, but underneath I’m a s-s-serious person. Proud to be an American. That’s why I’m sorry about José.” She put down her knitting needles. “You do thinks he’s terribly good-looking, don’t you?” Holly said Hmn, and swiped the cat’s whiskers with her lacquer brush. “If only I could get used to the idea of m-m-marrying a Brazilian. And being B-b-brazilian myself. It’s such a canyon to cross. Six thousand miles, and not knowing the language—“
“Go to Berlitz.”
“Why on earth would they be teaching P-p-portuguese? It isn’t as though anyone spoke it. No, my only chance is to try and make José forget politics and become an American. It’s such a useless thing for a man to want to be: the p-p-president of Brazil.“
Holly was right, of course. The war would be over one day. And when it was, she would have been as true to herself as she always insisted she must be:
I don’t mean I’d mind being rich and famous. That’s very much on my schedule, and someday I’ll try to get around to it; but if it happens, I’d like to have my ego tagging along. I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany’s.
WHEN THE current war is over, I want the US to have its ego tagging along as well….when we go to the Olympics as well as when they host the Venice Biennale.
We have no national cultural agenda.
We have no national athletic agenda.
We have no national humorous agenda.
We have no national mathematical agenda.
We have no national scientific agenda.
We have no national moral agenda.
We have no national logical agenda.
We have no national architectural agenda.
We have no national urban renewal agenda.
We have no national agenda for political reform.
We have no national agenda for space exploration.
I guess your point is, we ought to have a national cultural agenda? What would it look like if we did?
“Disappearing Act” (1953) is a short story by the late, great Alfred Bester. It’s currently in print in an anthology of his short stories called Virtual Unrealities (1997).
To this exact point, a national cultural agenda would look like it did when the NEA considered it their responsibility to organize our having representation at the most prestigious art exhibition in the world. In other words, what it looked like in 2003. Not such a big thing to ask, Slarti.
Many thanks Morinao!
Hope I didn’t misremember it too badly.
Out of curiousity, what artists represented America at this event in 2003? (I know I could probably Google it, but you might have the information at hand.)
Phil,
Fred Wilson did. An African American who recontextualizes history through the African experience. He exhibits at Metro Pictures Gallery in New York.
I’ll just say that, containing multitudes as I do:
— As a Libertarian, I don’t think it’s the government’s job to do this kind of thing anyway.
— As a pragmatist, I know they’re going to do stuff anyway, but I prefer that the State Department limit itself to the business of conducting diplomatic relations.
— As a realist, I realize that “conducting diplomatic relations” is going to include things like cultural exchanges, so at least keep us involved in the big ones.
— As an American, I know we can kick everyone else’s ass in art like we do other stuff. 🙂
Oh, so by cultural, you meant artistic. I thought you meant something much more far-flung.
Not sure I agree even with the clarification, but rock on, Edward.
— As an American, I know we can kick everyone else’s ass in art like we do other stuff. 🙂
If a tree falls in a forest but no one hears it…? We could have the best swimmers or runners or gymnasts in the world but unless they compete internationally, they’ll never bring home Olympic gold. The US is not a self-contained universe.
After reading the article you linked to, Edward (yes, I know: this is a flaw), I’m wondering why you’re not banging on the Pew Trust and the Rockefeller Foundation just as hard as you’re banging on State. By all appearances, State only pulled out because the financial and planning support did. Or did I miss something else?
Come on Slarti. It’s symbolic. I’m hammering away at the Olympics parallel for a reason…if we were uninterested in competing at that event, I’m sure Americans would consider it a sign that things were off kilter.
For the record, the NEA doesn’t fund the entire thing. Up to three fourths of the costs for sending an American to compete in Venice is raised by the artists and their friends. It costs about $1 million, so its no small degree of dedication to the chance to represent on their part.
Last comment was in respose to your previous “Oh, so by cultural, you meant artistic.” statement.
Hence the sentence above that one.
Having briefly glanced at a couple of articles, I have to say that Wilson’s display of relabeled archaeological findings sounds fascinating. It’s actually the kind of thing I think about.
I hadn’t mentioned the NEA, but…
Here’s what I think. I think if someone cares about this issue enough to write a column pointing it out, that person should pick up the goddamned telephone, call the NEA, the Pew Trusts, and the Rockefeller Foundation, and then call the State Department to get the entire story. As it is, it’s the skeleton of the story. You may advance the idea that it’s all the government’s fault, but it may in fact be a domino effect begun by withdrawal of Pew and Rockefeller funds. Who really knows?
What would happen to the US Olympic Team, for example, if all of the sponsors and organizing agencies pulled their funding and support? I’m thinking that our level of participation would be somewhat different.
I have to say that Wilson’s display of relabeled archaeological findings sounds fascinating. It’s actually the kind of thing I think about.
I didn’t think as much of his Venice installation as I had his previous American pieces, but Italian friends of mine told me he had nailed it. He recontextualized Venice through the African experience (something I thought was biting off a bit more than he ought to try and chew), and the subtleties of it escaped me. The Italians were enthralled by his accomplishment. The installation was beautiful though.
You may advance the idea that it’s all the government’s fault, but it may in fact be a domino effect begun by withdrawal of Pew and Rockefeller funds. Who really knows?
You didn’t mention the NEA, and I didn’t lay all the blame on the government. I don’t blame the State Department. In fact, they’re the only ones who still seem to appreciate what we’re potentially loosing here. I consider it an alarming shift in national priorities (and yes, the Pew Trusts and the Rockefeller Foundation are the immediate culprits here, but they’re only part of the problem) that strike me as rather shortsighted.
Hopefully someone with the resources to organize an exhibition will step forward and do even a better job. I have an email out to a friend who was involved with the last American Pavillon, who I know will have the inside scoop of what’s happening behind the headlines. She hasn’t gotten back to me yet, though.
My overarching point, with the Capote tie in, is that even though other issues may seem more pressing while we’re surrounded by war and such, it’s important to remember the war will be over one day. Remaining true to ourselves, not letting patriotism or fear change who we are, what we want, how we promote our values internationally, is important to me. I like who we are.
Is there a direct link between the war and this lack of interest in representing in Venice? Well, it may be a bit of a stretch, but the old system of choosing artists was “an open system – with public and private partners.” It represented a collaboration with public and private money that suggested the US cares about such things. If we no longer care about such things, what accounts for that change if not the war? It’s a sincere question.
I’m certainly no expert on the Venice Bienniale, but it still strikes me as a little odd that many of the comments draw parallels to the Olympics or use phrases like “compete” or “kick … ass.”
My take on art exhibitions — indeed on art in general — is that participation is in many ways the opposite of competition. Rather than there being a clear ranking, with a well-defined winner and an overriding incentive to be that winner, there is instead a general enrichment. It’s sort of like a public good: my consumption doesn’t affect your consumption, materially if at all. Instead, we all benefit.
(Hmm, maybe we could go even further, and say that your benefit is INCREASED by my benefitting: not just the near-neutrality of a public good, but the actual opposite of commodity consumption. But surely there have been economics papers on this, and in any case I digress.)
Point being, why the emphasis on a competitive interpretation? Or is the Bienniale truly a sort of Grand Prix of art, with paintings and sculptures roaring around the alleys and canals, occasionally thudding into stacks of tires and bursting into alcohol flames?
Good points all, Edward. I wasn’t so much challenging your broader thesis so much as I was (typically) nibbling around the edges.
Another thing to consider is that the Pew Trusts, at least, are not apolitical. Given that at least one major subset of their grant activity is directed at electoral reform, monitoring, polling and the like, it’s quite possible that another culprit here is politics. They may simply lack the resources to attend to the cultural/artistic demand, at present, given the upcoming election.
Or is the Bienniale truly a sort of Grand Prix of art
Bleh, it was Rauschenberg winning the Grand Prize in Venice in 1964 that heralded the true beginning of dominance of American art in the world. Up until that point European artists resoundly “kicked our asses” in all such settings.
Your point about competition being incongruous with fine art exhibitions is true in most settings, but Venice is definitely competetive.
But representing there is more important than winning. (I can’t remember the last time an American artist won the Grand Prize, but we’ve still had excellent exhibitions most years.)
They may simply lack the resources to attend to the cultural/artistic demand, at present, given the upcoming election.
Oh! So it is all Bush’s fault after all! ;-]
I don’t consider myself a libertarian, but on issues like this I’m sympathetic insofar as I’m not comfortable with the government going very far; the flip side has a lot of negatives to it, including the government effectively declaring what is approved art (and, obviously, therefore, not approved).
However, pragmatically:
“As a pragmatist, I know they’re going to do stuff anyway, but I prefer that the State Department limit itself to the business of conducting diplomatic relations.”
I’ll point out that an overwhelming part of the reason
we won the Cold War was that it was a war of ideas and culture, and we won it culturally, among other ways. And crucial to that was the battle fought by the Voice of America and Radio Free Europe, and the U.S. Information Agency, and libraries in U.S. Embassies, and travelling exhibits of American culture, and cultural conferences, all sponsored by the U.S. government. Cultural relations are diplomatic affairs.
And those sorts of efforts are more important than ever in today’s war and today’s period of unsettled relations between America and the rest of the world. So it’s worth considering that, pragmatically, as well.
Incidentally, Edward, I’d tremendously highly recommend seeking out Alfred Bester’s short story collections, and his two great novels, The Demolished Man, and The Stars, My Destination (also known in Britain as Tyger, Tyger) (avoid the later novels like the plague). Be sure to note the copyright on what you’re reading. He truly was one of the all-time greats of science fiction (even if he was a mean old drunk in his late years; he once threw a chair at me.)
Since folks enjoy recalling WW2 as THE IDEAL for this current war…what did America do for/with art during that idealized war? (Let me hint…it didn’t you market excuses to ignore it)>
“Or is the Bienniale truly a sort of Grand Prix of art, with paintings and sculptures roaring around the alleys and canals, occasionally thudding into stacks of tires and bursting into alcohol flames?”
Man, if it were, you can bet America would be competing in that!
Since folks enjoy recalling WW2 as THE IDEAL for this current war
Which folks are those? And what do they have to do with this discussion?
I don’t mean to be bristly, but could people please read all four of the things I typed, and not respond to one of the four as if it stands for all four? To wit:
“– As a realist, I realize that “conducting diplomatic relations” is going to include things like cultural exchanges, so at least keep us involved in the big ones.”
Edward, Gary’s right—Bester is one of the truly great science fiction writers. Demolished Man is probably the best telepathy novel.
However, I’d argue that Bester’s best short stories are his true peak, even more than his two significant novels (repeat, only those two; the late few, and the non-sf one were not at all in the same class).
(Same goes for Theodore Sturgeon, whom I’d recommend identically.)
Sorry Phil, as soon as I read the first line I went in attack mode…will read whole thread before knee-jerking it.
(By the way if you have access to JSTOR, search for “World War II and the Development of American Studies by Phillip Gleason in the 1984 issue of American Quarerly)
Quick Hits
A few assorted things kicking around….. *** Is everybody checking the right-hand sidebar? We’ve installed four things over there…. A link to the Weekly QandO Roundup of our best posts – (really, it’s very good stuff, if you like this…
Quick Hits
A few assorted things kicking around….. *** Is everybody checking the right-hand sidebar? We’ve installed four things over there…. A link to the Weekly QandO Roundup of our best posts – (really, it’s very good stuff, if you like this…
I don’t know, Gary, I think The Dreaming Jewels is a remarkable achievement. Sturgeon really is one of science fictions greatest stylists.
“My take on art exhibitions — indeed on art in general — is that participation is in many ways the opposite of competition.”
You commie.
If you can’t win at it, what’s the point?
Many cultural exchange programs take into account that “culture” is more than mass popularity or mass marketing. Culture would consist of aesthetics, political theory, and so on.
The market is a dangerous measure to determine what is valuable in the United States. This would mean our diplomatic representatives are blockbuster movies, pornography, fast food and the military. I understand Juan Cole is trying to get more American literature translated into Arabic, yet I wonder why we haven’t invested in these translations already.
Haven, while I understand your — and probably Edward’s and a lot of other peoples’ — objections to letting the market determine what is and what isn’t valuable*, doesn’t that lead down the rather odd road of suggesting that the things that Americans actually like and want should not represent America?
I mean, sure, in terms of cutting-edge art exhibitions or cultural symposia, let those who are in a position to evaluate send or contribute something better than a Thomas Kinkade painting or a Danielle Steele novel. But in terms of day-to-day cultural interaction, I have no problem with Spider-Man representing the US abroad any more than the British likely have a problem with Dizzee Rascal representing the UK abroad.
*Objecting to the market determining value is kind of odd in itself. I can see not believing in market determinations of relatively difficult traits or values like “good,” but when it comes to value, the things that people are willing to spend money and opportunity costs on are the things that are valuable.
I mean, sure, in terms of cutting-edge art exhibitions or cultural symposia, let those who are in a position to evaluate send or contribute something better than a Thomas Kinkade painting or a Danielle Steele novel. But in terms of day-to-day cultural interaction, I have no problem with Spider-Man representing the US abroad any more than the British likely have a problem with Dizzee Rascal representing the UK abroad.
*Objecting to the market determining value is kind of odd in itself. I can see not believing in market determinations of relatively difficult traits or values like “good,” but when it comes to value, the things that people are willing to spend money and opportunity costs on are the things that are valuable.
I’m not sure anyone’s under the impression that mass-market appeal items are representative of this country’s highest esthetical sense. Or have I overlooked something?
I’m not sure anyone’s under the impression that mass-market appeal items are representative of this country’s highest esthetical sense. Or have I overlooked something?
You are what you promote.
You are what you promote.
Who’s you, in this context?
Who’s you, in this context?
The US government, who represent we the people.
Maybe I’m confused…is it your contention that the US Government is promoting movies?
Or is your point actually something to the effect of “you are not what you don’t promote”?
is it your contention that the US Government is promoting movies?
in a way, yes
That is a shocker, yes. The government’s helping anyone who thinks there’s an overseas market for their goods, to come up with ways to market those goods. I personally don’t think this is something that government ought to be spending its time (and money) on. But I don’t see what it’s got to do with art. If there’s an export market for art, I’m sure the government will be all too happy to help market it.
But I don’t see what it’s got to do with art.
Art is a product like any other. Billions of dollars are spent each year in the US on art. Billions.
Still not getting you, Edward. Is your point that export.gov is refusing to help market art?
Is your point that export.gov is refusing to help market art?
Actually no. They’re not. They hosted a very nice party for us in Madrid when we did an art fair there. Only that’s not the approach that makes any sense for the art market. Not one of the galleries that attended that party ended up finding anything of use that export.gov tried to offer. The art market depends on respresentation in events like the Venice Biennale to build its market. It’s such a highly specialized market, that business connections with translators and other types doesn’t mean much at most levels.
The fact the US embassy in Madrid didn’t have any art newer than 1890 didn’t impress us any either.
Well, then I’m back to being mystified as to what your point was when you said:
You are what you promote.
If we’re promoting everything, we are, by your logic, everything. Seems consistent to me. Is your point that we ought to only market the esthetic, in an attempt to fool the world into thinking that we’re something that we’re really not?
If we’re promoting everything, we are, by your logic, everything. Seems consistent to me. Is your point that we ought to only market the esthetic, in an attempt to fool the world into thinking that we’re something that we’re really not?
I’ll type more slowly this time…maybe it will be come more clear. ;p
It’s a waste of the US government’s efforts and money to attempt to benefit the art market through the types of things export.gov can offer someone selling shoes or cars or soda. The consumers of art care about one thing in making their purchases…prestige. That’s where this particular American product needs to be promoted: in the prestigious venues like the Venice Biennale.
It’s a waste of the US government’s efforts and money to attempt to benefit the art market through the types of things export.gov can offer someone selling shoes or cars or soda.
I’d imagine the shoe, car and soda industries would say something similar.
So, what do you have in mind? Clearly, we’re either doing something you regard as inappropriate, or not doing something that you think is needed. What needs to change?
The European governments, China, Japan, Australia, Canada, Russia (but especially when they were the USSR) spend millions translating their classics (political theory, aesthetics) whether they generate profit or not. Create symposiums, where the best and brightest are asked to defend and share the intellectual foundations of the culture to the elite (but not just the elite) and engage in discourse. (A Spider-Man movie cannot do that…and that is not its purpose). These other governments will put the money out to display their dancers, sculptors, singers, philosophers, and the elite in these nations attends these things in droves. They are interviewed and courted in those countries and this is the space where discourse thrives. Hoping Madonna and Metallica share the aesthetic value of the American founding fathers is foolish!
The Federalist Papers, H.L. Mencken, Lincoln, Puritan aesthetics (yes, they were phenomenal at subtle beauty), the American tradition of quilts (the Amish still Rock in the area) will be ignored in other nations, if left to the market. At best, folks from other countries, with varying agendas will provide their context. Imagine French socialist and Soviet communist, Japanese students of Confucius providing the context to understand the Founding Fathers’ notion of liberty.
During the 80’s we basically allowed the lowest common denominator of the market and the intellectuals of other nations begin to explain and interpret American culture to the world. In many cases, especially at the universities I research for, our thinkers have to foot the bill to attend these symposiums, which mean many will not go. (On a side note, businesses around the world will hire many of the professors I work for, only to learn about American culture as away to market their particular product).
Just a reminder, during the Spanish-American war the only cultural exchange programs were designed by missionaries and only missionaries. Now, what would have happened if FDR, Truman or the whole Cold War were left up to the hermeneutical skills of missionaries? Well….just replace Hollywood…our new missionaries.
I can’t get over the disconnect that in one place, Edward, you’re complaining about wasteful spending by Americans, and people buying things they don’t need; and in another, you’re complaining that the U.S. government does spend enough time, energy, and my money promoting the sale of things that not only can the average American never afford, but probably doesn’t want and would in most cases consider an inessential luxury.
Haven: I’m neither an intellectual nor an elite, so you’ll have to explain (using very small words) why it’s so important that American culture be represented abroad primarily by things that appeal mostly to highly educated rich people. You seem to be implying that the average American on the street should be ashamed of his or her tastes, and that those tastes should not represent America to the world.
Notably, though, much of our success in the Cold War was, in fact, attributable to Hollywood and consumer products. Intellectual underpinnings are fine, but when you want a pair of Levi’s or a Beatles album and can’t get it, you tend to get dissatisfied with your authoritarian government.
I can’t get over the disconnect that in one place, Edward, you’re complaining about wasteful spending by Americans, and people buying things they don’t need; and in another, you’re complaining that the U.S. government does spend enough time, energy, and my money promoting the sale of things that not only can the average American never afford, but probably doesn’t want and would in most cases consider an inessential luxury.
Fair question.
I’ll see if I can express how I feel about this with a more-or-less obtuse declaration and then move on to a practical explanation/defense of the purchasing of art.
First, Art is useless (in that it has no practical day-to-day use), but that doesn’t mean it’s inessential.
To understand this, it helps to think of “art” in two ways: process and product.
If you’ve ever met an artist who MUST paint or MUST play the guitar or MUST dance because they’d die inside if they didn’t, you’d get that the creation of art (the process) is totally essential for some people.
The product of those efforts is our vicarious path into that process. In some rare, wonderful cases, though, the product can transcend the process (and even the intent of the artist sometimes) and, as they say, takes on a life of its own. It becomes important to the observer/listener as well. In such cases, having access to that product can become essential to the viewer/listener (who, like the artist, would die inside a bit, should that not be possible, or who lives that much more richly when it is possible).
I don’t consider buying art the same type of consumption buying cars or televisions or other products that are designed to depreciate is. I believe collectors don’t actually own an artwork as much as the privelege to take care of it and with that the responsibility to conserve it and protect it for future generations. It’s a lease at best.
The greatest American art is not our property. It’s our legacy. The more that legacy is viewed as prestigious, the more it will be celebrated, promoted, conserved, protected, studied, and passed along to remind generations for whom we ourselves will be mere dust that we too lived, dreamed, worked, achieved, and thrived.
It gets melodramtic, I know, but it’s a sense of things that words can’t do justice.
“…but when it comes to value, the things that people are willing to spend money and opportunity costs on are the things that are valuable.”
Nonsense. It’s one, important, kind of value. But there are many equally, or more, important values in our lives.
We don’t value our spouse or children or parents depending upon how much we spend on them, nor do we value them depending upon how much they spend on us.
Aesthetic values are another value that is not necessarily measured in money. If you have three books in front of you, do you value them solely by how much you paid for them?
If you have a memento of a wonderful time, do you value it only monetarily?
And infinite cetera.
The idea that commodities and monetary value are all that matter is inappropriately reductionist, and it’s wrong, even for Scrooge McDuck or Montgomery Burns.
Well, the Federalist Papers are boring and inspire nothing but groans from the average American, especially if they have to read them outside of a classroom environment. Yet, Stephen King knows exactly what I want and desire and the average American buys him by the crate load. So it follows, the Federalist Papers obviously a tool of the intellectual elite to make the average American feel dumb.
Better yet, if American classics no longer generate the necessary capital to justify their existence, they should not be lying around making the average American feel guilty about their appetites.
I have a quick example. I used to give guest lessons at Sunday schools. I would bring lessons that would attempt to cover the different hermeneutical models used by different theologians. The Old School; Augustine, Thomas, Calvin, Luther, and the New School; Gordon Clarke, Tillich, Jaspers, Van Til. Inevitably many students would begin to grown and wonder why Christians should systemize “the ultimate mystery.” (Which is also another way to understand scripture called Gnosticism.) Most students would rather talk about all the neat new books that have come out “which really speak to my level” and do not use that “old fashion language.” Or discuss how “I feel when I read scripture” which is the only “real” way to understand scripture. Child, there is a time and place for everything.
There is a time and place for everything. There is a time for McDonalds, Levi Jeans, MTV, Jenna Jameson and Peter North…but if you really believe THAT is the essence of your nation’s heritage then…jeez…what the hell are conservatives conserving? To think that freedom and liberty will be transferred by osmosis through our baser products is shocking. What they DO teach is marketing and consuming. Tyrannical governments can easily allow them to exist, however spaces where the ideas of “highly educated rich people” are exchanged seem to be a greater threat.
“highly educated rich people” {?}
Who tend to be the people that produce the highest ideals of or culture? I may be a Leftist but I am not ignorant. I know Stephen King’s place and I know Nathaniel Hawthorne’s place. Even Stephen King recognizes his place (he called himself the McDonalds of literature).
To judge things solely by the way they make you feel (uncomfortable, horney, happy, good, bad, cozy, guilty, stupid, smart) is not a very “civilized” way to judge The Good.
The Spartans were not impressed with Greek culture.
Oh, and all “classics” start off by being “modern” and the “highly educated rich people” fight it out.
The “highly educated rich people” of France saved Edgar Allen Poe from the “highly educated rich people” of America who were ready to write him off.
Go Haven! Go Haven!
I’ve read and thoroughly enjoyed Stephen King. I’ve also read, and been totally floored by, Toni Morrison.
It’s not just a matter of being distracted. It’s also a matter of being challenged and seeing things you never dreamed of before. A matter of having your breath taken away by the sheer genius of something.
King has his place (and truly a place in my heart), but honestly if that’s the best we can do as a nation, we really ought to resign ourselves to the minor leagues on the world stage as far as art is concerned. Carrie, as riveting as it may be, does not represent the pinnacle of human achievement in literature.
It may be as good as some people ever want their books to be, but that’s not an argument for it representing the nation.
Point taken, Gary, although we were talking about “value” as it relates to a particular set of objects, which is to say cultural artifacts and works of the arts, not about our grandparents. And I did say “opportunity costs,” too.
Haven: Really, honestly, you’ve lost me. Can you explain it to me like I don’t speak English, or something? Or like you aren’t waxing polemic and are just, you know, having a conversation with someone who might be hitting a little above his weight class.
Carrie, as riveting as it may be, does not represent the pinnacle of human achievement in literature.
To be sure, although neither is Toni Morrison.
I still see no reason to pretend that “American cultural heritage” has to be defined as to exclude that kind of thing. I’m not saying it should be limited to it, but if America’s culture means anything, then dammit, it has to include things that Americans actually like.
Oh, and all “classics” start off by being “modern” and the “highly educated rich people” fight it out.
Or, like, Dickens, via their appeal to those great unwashed masses who read popular publications.
No, your right…my writing is rarely focused…now I’m kinda writin’/talkin’ like I would at a bar or café. I take responsibility for my “in-elegant” writing style.
I still see no reason to pretend that “American cultural heritage” has to be defined as to exclude that kind of thing. I’m not saying it should be limited to it, but if America’s culture means anything, then dammit, it has to include things that Americans actually like.
For sure, I collect comics and some other nerdy stuff, but I would teach my kids that there is difference between what masses of people like and what is good for you and counterculture and mainstream…and sometimes they meet. Like the Godfather and Star Wars, that is the fusion for all that is good in America. Combines everything. Hits all the right notes.
However, Toni’s Bluest Eye still makes me cry and Jazz blows my mind. Classic? Well, let’s see what our elite ends up doing with it. They are still young. (I know I’ll go to the mat for her).
Any comment on this, by the way, Edward?