Saturday, June 24, 2023

Discussing fiction on a moral level at a book club

After:

Naomi Kanakia, "The Dreariness of Book Club Discussions," Los Angeles Review of Books, November 2, 2022.


The book club exists because we'd like to think the book will "improve our minds in some way" and "contribute measurably to our intellectual lives."

Yet even those of us who are talented critics struggle to say more than whether we liked the book. Adults consider our own enjoyment as an "explicit factor" in choosing to read.

Book clubs "interfere with the way a book is meant to be experienced," i.e., for pleasure, and thus "obviously draw their inspiration from that great temple of forced reading: high school." A book club has the broad form of a class discussion — "the schedule, the discussion, the forced reading."

Nonfiction is easier to discuss

It's easy to talk about books that are "fundamentally about ideas: What does the future hold? What motivates a person to kill for a cause? These are big, open questions that you can readily discuss. We all think about ideology. We all think about current events. We can engage easily with these texts and do it on a more even footing, arguing with their conclusions and adding our own experiences to provide a counterpoint."

Fiction is hard "unless you resort to deconstruction, power analysis, or high school–style New Criticism, there's simply not much to say beyond 'This is why you should/shouldn't read this book' - a topic for which, honestly, a few hundred words would usually suffice. Nonfiction, in contrast, offers a jumping-off point for talking about the broader implications of ideas and for arguing with the author's conclusions." You can't do this with fiction because "good fiction doesn't contain a clear viewpoint on the material," and insofar as it makes points, it "already contains whatever broader points you would want to make" but stated much better than you could possibly state them (which is why you read the book), and "moreover, fiction doesn't generalize: it's about specific people doing specific things," so for you to say that many people do not or should not do these things is N/A.

Yet book clubs choose fiction

They do so because fiction is enjoyable, or because of "a hangover from English class," or specifically because of "the complexity of the novel — for the way it eludes easy answers," which makes it seem as though there's something to be discussed, something to be gotten.

Choose moral analysis

So if you're going to read fiction for a book club, Kanakia suggests, you can do "moral analysis," which "is a bit simpler [than power analysis]: it takes the work as given, almost as if the story were nonfiction. In a moral analysis, you talk about the characters as freely and simply as if they were real people you know," which "we're usually unafraid to exercise when it comes to television shows or the lives of our friends." For context: Tolstoy's What Is Art? (1897) in which he argues that art is about moral edification, not pleasure. (This approach allows us to stay friends with each other, believe that reading the book was worthwhile, and avoid summarizing the whole book.) See also John Gardner's On Moral Fiction (1978).

Asking moral questions "might be uncomfortable, but if we don't want to explore that discomfort, we should probably just join a knitting circle instead."


See also: "Moral analysis of what is 'at stake in this story'". It's a 4-minute read on Medium. Medium lets you read a certain number of stories for free every month. You may also consider a paid membership on the platform.

abstract art that looks like a colorful staircase

Wednesday, June 21, 2023

Heschel: Overawed

aurora borealis
Based on a Pixabay image

The passages below are from:
Abraham Joshua Heschel. The Sabbath (1951). Prologue. Reprint: New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2005.

“Indeed, we know what to do with space but do not know what to do about time, except to make it subservient to space. Most of us seem to labor for the sake of things of space. As a result we suffer from a deeply rooted dread of time and stand aghast when compelled to look into its face. Time to us is sarcasm, a slick treacherous monster with a jaw like a furnace incinerating every moment of our lives. Shrinking, therefore, from facing time, we escape for shelter to things of space. The intentions we are unable to carry out we deposit in space; possessions become the symbols of our repressions, jubilees of frustrations. But things of space are not fireproof; they only add fuel to the flames. Is the joy of possession an antidote to the terror of time which grows to be a dread of inevitable death? Things, when magnified, are forgeries of happiness, they are a threat to our very lives; we are more harassed than supported by the Frankensteins of spatial things.
It is impossible for man to shirk the problem of time. The more we think the more we realize: we cannot conquer time through space. We can only master time in time.”
— Prologue

“Jewish ritual may be characterized as the art of significant forms in time, as architecture of time.” — Prologue

“To Jewish piety the ultimate human dichotomy is not that of mind and matter but that of the sacred and the profane. We have known profanity too long and have become accustomed to think that the soul is an automaton. The law of the Sabbath tries to direct the body and the mind to the dimension of the holy. It tries to teach us that man stands not only in a relation to nature but in a relation also to the creator of nature.”
What is the Sabbath? Spirit in the form of time. With our bodies we belong to space; our spirit, our souls, soar to eternity, aspire to the holy. The Sabbath is an ascent to the summit. It gives us the opportunity to sanctify time, to raise the good to the level of the holy, to behold the holy by abstaining from profanity.”
— Chapter: Intuitions of Eternity

"Yet those who realize that God is at least as great as the known universe, that the spirit is an endless process of which we humbly partake, will understand and experience what it means that the spirit is disclosed at certain moments of time. One must be overawed by the marvel of time to be ready to perceive the presence of eternity in a single moment. One must live and act as if the fate of all of time would depend on a single moment."
— Chapter: Intuitions of Eternity

"Time to us is a measuring device rather than a realm in which we abide. Our consciousness of it comes about when we begin to compare two events and to notice that one event is later than the other; when listening to a tune we realize that one note follows the other."
— Epilogue

“Time does not permit an instant to be in and for itself. Time is either all or nothing. It cannot be divided except in our minds. It remains beyond our grasp. It is almost holy.”
— Epilogue

Wait until you see what I did with it!! "‘Overawed by the Marvel’ of Trans". It's a 7-minute read on Medium. Consider a paid membership on the platform.

Saturday, June 17, 2023

Night of the Murdered Poets (1952)

What happened:

"The Night of the Murdered Poets (Russian: Дело Еврейского антифашистского комитета, romanized: Dela Yevreyskovo antifashistskovo komiteta, lit. 'Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee affair'; Yiddish: הרוגים מלכות פֿונעם ראַטנפאַרבאַנד, romanized: Harugim malkhes funem Ratnfarband, lit. 'Soviet Union Martyrs') was the execution of thirteen Soviet Jews in the Lubyanka Prison in Moscow on 12 August 1952.[1] The arrests were first made in September 1948 and June 1949. All defendants were falsely accused of espionage and treason as well as many other crimes. After their arrests, they were tortured, beaten, and isolated for three years before being formally charged. There were five Yiddish writers among these defendants, all of whom were part of the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee." — Wikipedia, accessed June 17, 2023

One of the writers was David Bergelson, and one of his novels was translated into Spanish (Nov 1, 2015): Al final de todo.

bearded guy reading the newspaper

Quotes on Sacrifice

Thornton Wilder's character Manuel questioned whether "we ever sacrifice anything save what we know we can never attain, or what some secret wisdom tells us it would be uncomfortable or saddening to possess."

Arjun Appadurai said:

"But what is the special status of such scapegoats in the era of globalization? After all, strangers, sick people, nomads, religious dissidents, and similar minor social groups have always been targets of prejudice and xenophobia. Here I suggest a single and simple hypothesis. Given the systemic compromise of national economic sovereignty that is built into the logic of globalization, and given the increasing strain this puts on states to behave as trustees of the interests of a territorially defined and confined 'people,' minorities are the major site for displacing the anxieties of many states about their own minority or marginality (real or imagined) in a world of a few megastates, of unruly economic flows and compromised sovereignties."

And, Chris Walsh:

"The wish to avoid the imputation of cowardice has led many to do their duty to the larger group, even the most awful duty of killing and being killed. In his study of the motivation of American Civil War soldiers, James M. McPherson notes that in their letters home men ‘wrote much about cowardice because they worried they might be guilty of it, and they desperately wanted to avoid the shame of being known as a coward—and that is what gave them courage.

In a similar vein Horace follows his famous testament to patriotic courage—‘dulce et decorum est pro patria mori’ (it is sweet and proper to die for one’s country)—with far less famous but no less important lines:

mors et fugacem persequitur virum
nec parcit imbellis iuventae
poplitibus timidove tergo
[death hunts down also the man who runs away
and has no mercy on the hamstrings of the unwarlike youth
and his cowardly back]

The ancient Roman poet operates on the same principle as the Union and Confederate soldiers do: the shame of cowardice reinforces the call for sacrifice.

Exactly, says the other side in this debate: that is the problem. Shaming people into sacrifice has caused uncountable horrors."

Sources

Thornton Wilder. The Bridge of San Luis Rey. (1927) New York: Washington Square Press, Inc., 1960. p. 53.

Arjun Appadurai. Fear of Small Numbers: An Essay on the Geography of Anger. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2006. p. 43.

Chris Walsh. Cowardice: A Brief History. Princeton University Press, 2014. p. 10.

woman in old-fashioned black and white clothes