Upcoming Publication

For those who might be interested, my latest article, “The Wise Man has Two Tongues: Images of The Satyr and the Peasant by Jordaens and Steen,” will appear in Myth in History, History in Myth, volume 182 in Brill’s Studies in Intellectual History series.  It is due out in August of 2009.

Here’s the article abstract:

“In the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries, Aesop’s Fables had widespread appeal in Netherlandish culture. In particular, we find many examples of the “Fable of the Satyr and the Peasant”. In the story a wary satyr rejects the perceived hypocrisy of the peasant, “blowing hot or cold” as the situation dictates—once to warm his cold hands, and again to cool his porridge.

The Flemish artist Jacob Jordaens’ name is most synonymous with representations of the theme, for, by one count, he created a dozen versions of the story in various media.  It was one of his most repeated, most popular subjects.

It is often noted that Jordaens’ images of “As the Old Sing, So Pipe the Young” and “Twelfth Night” served as models for the Dutch artist Jan Steen.  It remains under-stated, however, that Steen also painted the Satyr and the Peasant fable several times in apparent emulation of Jordaens.

In this paper, I discuss the timing and execution of Steen’s paintings as evidence of competition with the older, more famous Antwerp artist. And, I ponder what the combination of Classical mythology and genre—a marriage of elite and popular culture—reveals about correspondances between Northern and Southern Netherlandish humanism.

The answers reveal much about the cross-fertilization between these two artists, and how they used mythology to explore the similarities and differences between their respective Netherlandish cultures and identities.”

And, here’s the book synopsis from the publisher:

“In 1975, a group of Dutch and British scholars published a conference volume of collected essays entitled Some Political Mythologies. That conference sought to examine the political myth as an object of historical study, particularly in the context of the tumultuous and exceptional history of the Low Countries. Thirty years later, a more diverse group of scholars gathered to re-examine the history of Dutch myth-making in light of developments in theoretical and methodological approaches to understanding the role of myths in national identity, moral geography, and community formation. The results of their efforts appear in this volume, Myth in History: History in Myth. The essays cover developments in history, anthropology, cartography, philosophy, art history, and literature as they pertain to how the Dutch historically perceived these myths and how the myths have been treated by previous generations of historians.”

Art and Ecumenicity

Today I participated in “Faith in Art”: An Ecumenical Art Retreat.  The retreat was envisioned with the express purpose of bringing together people of diverse faith backgrounds to explore how art channels spirituality in all its forms.

We had four speakers with various professions and backgrounds speak on a range of topics: a female icon-painting Lutheran minister, a “spiritually open” female gallery curator/art historian and two male artists—one a Muslim from Cairo and the other an agnostic college professor.  They spoke on subjects varying from traditional icon making to contemporary secular spiritualism to personal visions of God as found in beauty and inner truth to the importance of comedy in spirituality as a means of transcending human hubris and dogmatism from the ancient Greeks forward.

While the topics ranged from East to West and back East and West again, from the sacred image to the outwardly secular installation, from the sacred written word to the satyr play, all the interstitial spaces between seemed to fill with the same aching for knowledge of the inner-self and its foundation in something larger and selfless.

Each speaker vocalized how art formed a means to connect with the transcendent, either as prayer, as a means of emptying the ego, a way to find wonder and mystery in the seemingly well-mapped world or to question the tragic as the sole purveyor of divinity.

The group that gathered was not large—fewer than twenty—but the ambience was intimate, the talks provocative and the energy overwhelmingly positive and radiant.  There were folks of all ages, walks of life, and levels of artistic proficiency.

After a lunch break, our afternoon was consumed by art making, trying desperately to channel some of the positive focus and lessons learned from intellectual exercises into a physical form—a record for others to see and imbibe.

The works will hang collectively at the nearby Montserrat Gallery in short stead. Those  visitors who walk the hall and see them hanging side by side will see just how diverse the participants were, and just how singular the beautiful light that shone through our facture.

I think we all left thinking to ourselves that it’s amazing what the human mind and spirit can accomplish in an atmosphere of open exploration, fellowship and tolerance.

Every global movement starts somewhere, and I hope the spark of ecumenical spirituality kindled today spreads outward in an ever-widening circle of embrace.  The aching world is ready and waiting.

New Year’s Resolution #1

Over my winter break I am reading Madeleine L’Engle’s Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (1980), and within its sage pages have found my New Year’s Resolution for 2009.

In the book, L’Engle (1918-2007) explores what it is that compels the writer to write—what she calls the “vocation of words”—and the despair that can settle in as well.  Throughout her life L’Engle copied quotations into her journal for midnight inspiration.  

In college she included an excerpt from Tchekov’s letters:

“You must once and for all give up being worried about successes and failures.  Don’t let that concern you.  It’s your duty to go on working steadily day by day, quite quietly, to be prepared for mistakes, which are inevitable, and for failures.”

And, years later, an inspiration from Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet:

“You are looking outward, and that above all you should not do now.  Nobody can counsel and help you, nobody.  There is only one single way.  Go into yourself.  Search for the reason that bids you to write; find out whether it is spreading out its roots in the deepest places of your heart, acknowledge to yourself whether you would have to die if it were denied you to write.  This above all—ask yourself in the stillest hour of your night: Must I write?  Delve into yourself for a deep answer.  And if this should be affirmative, if you may meet this earnest question with a strong and simple “I must,” then build your life according to this necessity; your life even into its most indifferent and slightest hour must be a sign of this urge and testimony to it.”

So, in 2009 I am going to Go into myself and Give up being worried about successes and failures.  For—though I make myriad mistakes and meet failure with publishers and critics, though I am not showered with praise, laurels or money—Write I must.

Let them know it’s Christmastime

A college friend of mine recently posted a classic—if wonderfully dated—music video on her Facebook page.  I clicked on “Do they know it’s Christmastime” by Band Aid (1984) and was immediately transported back to the heyday of neo-Rococo hair and trans-genderism.  

But, after the fun of that trip down memory-lane, my thoughts turned to the heart of the matter.  Even more so after I clicked on Band Aid 20, the updated anniversary edition of the song.  This is because unlike the first, the second video includes clips of the starving people of Africa, the heartbreaking subject of the song.  Sadly, now twenty-four years on, most are still in the same predicament.

Last year at this time I wrote a “Bread and Circus Magazine” article on giving to charity in order to complete some of our holiday shopping.  I mentioned fabulous charities like “Project Bread” in the Boston area sell ornaments and Christmas cards as a way to fundraise.  I can attest that this type of shopping stretches your dollars beyond belief: it eases the mind and the soul.

This year, I’d like to suggest something even greater.  I suggest that folks consider giving both to those organizations in our vicinity (as the need for food and shelter increase during our domestic financial crisis), but also to consider deeply those who suffer grievously in the Third World.  

As we in the U.S. come to realize how precious our personal resources are in this time of fiscal uncertainty, perhaps we can see through new eyes how much of a difference we’re capable of making among those who live on the extreme edge.  We can help by donating our time, talents or resources.

You can donate to groups like ONE.org, who work in Africa to fight disease and poverty and advocate for justice via debt relief, water and sanitation, education, fair trade and agriculture.

Can one person make a difference?  As the ONE.org site reminds us: “From Dr. King to Nelson Mandela, history shows us that big changes start with small actions.”

You can let others know you care, and create change.

Happy Holidays.

Joe the Plumber Springs a Leak

The NY Times has deflated high-profile McCain supporter “Joe the Plumber’s” professional credentials, as well as his much-touted assertion that Barack Obama’s economic plan would unfairly tax his future plumbing business.

You can read the news story here.

The Times ends by saying that new t-shirts have already been printed that read:

“Vote Joe the Plumber ’08—No More Drips in the White House.”

After this news, I would suggest this tagline instead: “Say it ain’t so, Joe.”

—————

POSTSCRIPT (10/20/08):

In light of the many comments I received after posting this—critiquing Obama’s economic plan vis-à-vis small businesses—I thought I’d append an article I read today by the Nobel Lauriat economist Paul Krugman.

Krugman weighed in on the debate over whether McCain’s or Obama’s economic proposals would better serve the average Ohio plumber.  His opinion?  Obama’s.  Read the article here.

“The Prince” and Pandora’s Box

“The Prince” and Pandora’s Box

As I watched the second presidential debate, I turned to my husband and said, “This may not sound appropriate in a democratic republic—but when Barack Obama sits on that stool don’t you think he looks like an Eastern Prince?  You know?  The kind shown in Buddhist images of figures in the lalitasana, the ‘pose of royal ease’?  Look at how peaceful and serene his face looks.”  

Now some folks who are already whipped into a xenophobic frenzy about Obama being “too foreign” and “too exotic” for America would OF COURSE take that kind of a remark as an unforgivable lapse in judgment from an elitist East Coast academic such as myself.  To them, I can’t really offer an excuse, nor an apology.  A peaceful, relaxed figure exuding intellect, confidence and poise is something I desire in a world leader. ‘Nuff said.

But, it only occurred to me later—in re-reading Stephen Greenblatt’s Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare (Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1980) this week—that McCain, too, reminds me of a prince.  Machiavelli’s prince.

Last week’s dismal news that the McCain-Palin ticket began encouraging race-driven insults and worse from their socially and economically panic-stricken audiences forced me to realize that the Republicans are not beneath any scorched-earth tactic (ahem, strategy) to help them gain the White House. They found loads of company on the low road, and discovered it makes for easy travel.  This was as true in Renaissance Italy as it is today.

As Greenblatt points out, “For Machiavelli, the prince engages in deceptions for one very clear reason: to survive.  The successful prince must be ‘a great feigner and dissembler; and men are so simple and so ready to obey present necessities, that one who deceives will always find those who allow themselves to be deceived.’…The initiated observer can always see beneath the surface and understand how appearances are manipulated by the cunning prince.”1  As Machiavelli explains it, it is in politics as it is in nature, the fox always eats the hens; yet, the sheer willingness of the victims still inspires outrage among the socially-responsible in society.2

In response to the troubling development in the Republican campaign, Georgia Democratic representative John Lewis publicly issued a condemning statement likening McCain and Palin’s tactics to George Wallace’s segregationist vitriol.  ”What I am seeing reminds me too much of another destructive period in American history. Sen. McCain and Gov. Palin are sowing the seeds of hatred and division, and there is no need for this hostility in our political discourse,” wrote Lewis.  McCain’s response was to voice disappointment in his one-time hero for stifling the national political conversation with his accusations.

I have to ask: If we are routinely asked to praise John McCain for his veteran-of-foreign-war status, should we not also exult  John Lewis for his service in another kind of war?  Did Lewis not also suffer physical and mental anguish in the service of ensuring American freedom and liberty?  Unlike McCain, Lewis suffered at the hands of fellow Americans instead of foreign armies, having his skull fractured by police in the “Bloody Sunday” March on Selma, Alabama.  But, I believe that a hero like Lewis deserves every bit as much respect for his exceptional, patriotic experiences.  And, I also trust that he knows racist rhetoric when he sees it, and that he does not wield his opinion on the subject lightly.

For now—after the outright public disgust and outrage with the tactics of McCain and Palin—they have reined-in their poisonous rhetoric out on the campaign trail.  But, it’s incredibly frightening to imagine that they’ve already opened a post-modern Pandora’s Box, that they’ve loosed rapacious greed, envy, vanity, slander, and lying into the midst of our revered political process.

The optimistic news is that—in the original myth—a once-curious, now terrified Pandora slammed the lid closed before “hope” could escape, which would have left mankind utterly inconsolate.

Ah, HOPE.  Thank heaven for it.  And, thank heaven we have another campaign inextricably linked with that very same saving grace.

————

1. Greenblatt, 14.  Machiavelli quotation, The Prince (NY: Modern Library, 1950), 64-65.

2. Greenblatt, 259, n. 3.

Kaffeeclatch (Coffee Talk)

Kaffeeclatch (Coffee Talk)

Has anyone noticed that televised ads for cheap coffee are multiplying?

Recently I’ve seen the resuscitation of Folgers and Maxwell House coffee ads on the networks, as well as pretty-darned-witty McDonald’s ads geared towards discerning coffee drinkers.  

In the McDonald’s ads, they spoof coffee house coffee as “elite” by associating its totalers with goatees, Palin-style metrosexual eyewear, speaking French and knowledge of global geography.

Is it just me, or is there a certain recession-savvy prescience among corporate America that the average consumer is about to revert to my grandparents’ favorite sport—finding the least-offensive, yet cheapest cup of coffee?

And–in a pandemic global recession–I’m afraid, over time, maybe least-offensive will even lose-out!  

Here’s a history lesson for you.  Did you ever wonder where the word “ersatz” comes from?  It means “substitute” in German and was first used in WWI to describe things like synthetic supply replacements.  

And again, in the hard economic pinch of WWII, it was regularly used to describe “replacement coffee”.   What the heck is replacement coffee?  (You’re fortunate not to know!)  Getreidekaffee or “grain coffee” was served to Allied POW’s by their German captors when real coffee supplies were scarce.  It meant coffee made from any roasted grain or bean except coffee.  Yum!  (NOT!)

Like those Allied POW’s who detested the stuff, I’m sure I’m not looking forward to “the best part of waking up”  if the global economy continues to sink.

Call me an “elitist” but you can ask me the same question in French, Dutch, or German, in Paris or Paraguay, and the answer won’t change.  A good cup of coffee is the sign of a great economy.  So, there goes “I’m lovin’ it.”  (Sigh.)

Carpe Spes

Carpe Spes

I wrote the following post back in March for Bread and Circus Magazine.  Since then, some of the main players have changed, and the economic crisis now adds a poignant sense of urgency to its message. Yet—considering the seemingly endless nature of this presidential contest—it’s surprising how valid it still is.   I still say “CARPE SPES!”

Enjoy.

Loving the Skin We’re Almost In

I Would Be Remiss…

I Would Be Remiss…

I just wanted to formally congratulate Monsieur Colbert on his Emmy win for outstanding writing.  

Let us not forget that Colbert’s victory is all the more poignant considering the tricky highwire act that he had to do while the writers’ strike was going on.  (During that woeful time I mused on his comedy in this wistful article on Bread and Circus Magazine.)

After what seemed like an interminable black-out on both the Daily Show and the Colbert Report, what a relief it was when Colbert finally returned to his anchor desk. I’m sure we are all in awe of what he was able to accomplish in his nightly ad-libbing; extreme improv to say the least.

We should all remember to salute Colbert for his integrity and dual sense of duty to his viewers and staff when he returned to the air. He never let it fade that—even as he was performing—his writers were outside picketing and going without pay and respect.  And, at the same time, he kept us illuminated about the machinations of Washington with his priceless, improvised wit. 

Monsieur Colbert, sir, you are truly an Emmy winner and a gentleman. Congratulations on both.

Impresaria or Imposter? Aren’t we all…

Impresaria or Imposter?  Aren’t we all…

Staying on the topic of Sarah Palin—if I can realistically count my glasses post as an article—I’d like to comment on Judith Warner’s latest article on “Poor Sarah” in the NY Times (9/25/08).  

In reading her op-ed, Warner made me realize that my already confused stance on Feminism is actually more muddled than I thought.

Where to begin?  

I am a child of the Seventies.  That puts me in the strange position of being a “second wave feminist”—one who has the luxury of reconsidering our “gains” in society and culture from a liberated foxhole (or “DFP” for you military buffs).

I have a product-of-the-late-Sixties mother who worked part-time as an executive secretary during my childhood.  It seems most period career choices for women back then consisted of housewife, teacher or secretary.  So, as a result, my mom was “mainstream”.  While she worked, I was cared-for by my grandmother who came of age in the Forties.  Unlike my mother she neither had a degree, nor could drive a car.  

Even as I child I saw advantages and disadvantages to both of these lifestyles.  My mother was independent, mobile and able to spend her own money.  I might add that she was also seemingly forever stressed-out and/or suffering from headaches.  To the contrary, my grandmother was tied to her house and had little disposable income, but she made her own schedule and had lots of fun teaching me how to cook and keep house.  From that early age it seemed to me impossible that women could be both a successful careerist and available caretaker.  It took a village.  Or, at least two women.

And, here’s where Warner comes in.  

What a provocative idea Warner has, that one could feel sorry for Sarah Palin as a well-kempt working mom who began to wilt under the glaring media- and international spotlights.  Warner perceives Palin as a sister-sufferer of imposter-syndrome.  (Is there anyone who hasn’t yet suffered from, or at least heard of that phenomenon?)  As evidence of Palin’s professional-woman’s strained survivalist-instincts, Warner notes Palin’s slumping posture, impossibly-perfect hair and nervous tics (the folded-hands-on-knees and deer-in-the-headlights look) during her visit with Henry Kissinger. Warner exudes compassion for this girlfriend out of her depth.  

I suppose that we women could feel empathy for Palin.  We’ve all met smarter people, or been put on-the-spot in a high-pressure situation.  Might Sarah Palin be a hapless victim? A woman put in the precarious position of Veep candidate by the irresistible, synergistic forces of an enticing career move and her own hubris?  

But, this scenario would assume that Palin was circumspect enough to realize that she’s out of her league.  After all, she could cry “Uncle!”  Or, “I want to be there for my kids while they’re small.” And we’d all understand.  But, we all know she won’t.  She won’t admit that she’s “just one woman”.  One woman without the credentials necessary for the job she’s applied for.

In a sense the problem is that Palin is just like any other person.  (As she loves to admit with her small-town, hard-working rhetoric.) In fact, like most people who are unqualified for something due to a lack of gifts or experience, she just don’t see it that way.  After all, it takes gumption to say you’re focused on education to Katie Couric’s face when—in actual word and deed—you despise intellectual pursuits.  (In this regard she sounds mightily like our intrepid former National Education Secretary, William Bennett, who spent the other morning on the Today Show bashing intellectuals.  Fine sport for a Ph.D. in philosophy.)  

Fortunately, in the real world, when people without credentials apply for management positions their cv never gets past the door.  Unfortunately, in this election year, a desperate, eager-to-reinvent-its-image GOP was not beneath finding a pliable and perhaps gullible “hick chick” for its ticket.  Not kosher, no matter how classically good-looking she is.

At this point you might well ask what my life is like.  Do I work?  Yes.  Do I have kids?  Yes.  Am I, therefore, in taking Sarah Palin to task somewhere between deeply conflicted and suffering from split personality disorder?  Absolutely.   Every day I question whether or not I am doing either of my vocations (maternal and professional) well.  And, I have a sneaking suspicion that most women are in the same rickety boat.  Unfortunately, as a post-modern woman I remain compelled to do both.  And, that’s why I can fathom why Warner’s feeling sorry for Palin.  And, yet, my platonic intellect tells me that Palin is not up to the task of world leader.  (Never mind the our polar opposite political stances…)

Couldn’t we at least get someone who knows why being an “elite” is a good thing?  Even Martha Stewart understands that one…