Marcus' World

The Remains of the Day: A Belated Tribute

Originally published on Medium.

Mixed Take: Virginia Heffernan's Magic and Loss"

Originally published on Medium.

P.D. James -- A Brief Tribute

"A detective story can give a much truer picture of the society in which it's written than a more prestigious literature," James suggests. "If we want to know what it was like – actually like – to work in an office between the wars, we should go to Murder Must Advertise. It's all there: the people and personalities; the inter-departmental rivalry; the great excitement of having a flutter on the Grand National; right down to how much things cost and attitudes to sex and class. I wanted my books to do the same; to be unambiguously set in the present day, so that they give a picture of the life we're living. And if I'm lucky enough to be read in 50 years' time, I hope people will be able to point to them and say: that's what it was like." -- P.D. James in The Guardian, 2011

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Mysteries, and legal procedurals, get a bad rap. Law and Order is a guilty pleasure, while Breaking Bad is prestige TV.  Sherlock Holmes is trivial, but Madame Bovary is not. Here, as in all other facets of life, we insist upon creating a hierarchy.

I recently finished reading yet another novel by P.D. James (this time it was Innocent Blood), and realized anew how contrived the distinction between high-brow and low-brow literature really is. James, who died in 2014, was England's greatest mystery writer of the 20th century. Ironically given that I am now extolling the value of her mysteries, Innocent Blood is not a mystery in the usual sense. We know who the villain is very early in the novel, and the suspense concerns if and how they will be caught. From this scaffolding an engrossing story unfolds. No spoilers -- go read it.

As the story unspools James deftly describes the UK's class dynamics and subtly skewers self-indulgent academics. You really do feel that you know more about London society circa 1978 (the year the novel takes place). This was exactly her goal, per the Guardian interview, and she succeeds fully in every respect.

Sure -- with writing like this you know that everything will be all tidied up by the end. A work of "prestige literature" is more apt to leave things hanging and unresolved, and in that sense it is much closer to real life. But sometimes it's nice to have all the t's crossed and i's dotted. P.D. James will do that for you, and provide a rich and full understanding of the world along the way.

Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose

For millions of people, myself included, 2016 has been a brutal political year. The election of Donald Trump to be the next President of the United States reinforced all the worst impulses of human nature, and taught young white men that merciless bullying is the way to get what you want. The next four years will be painful.

As is my habit in times of grief, I return to favorite novels. Which is why I find myself re-reading Wallace Stegner's masterpiece Angle of Repose after many years. One of my treasured memories from Northwestern is of a fellow student reading Angle of Repose in the dining hall and laughing uproariously as she turned the pages. I can now confirm that the novel is hilarious.

And wise. And shrewd. And timeless.

All that granted, and appreciated, Stegner is not the writer to choose if you are looking for escapism. Indeed, he touches upon themes that are very relevant to the looming disgrace that will be Donald Trump's presidency.

1.) Take this passage, from Chapter 5 of the "Leadville" section (pgs. 243-253 in the Penguin paperback edition): "Here sit you geologists charged with surveying the resources of the Public Domain, and here sit your friends whose whole business it is to get hold of such information, preferably before it's published. It seems to me to offer a nice ethical problem." Given that a woman named Helen Hunt Jackson poses this dilemma to a group of men, in the 1870s, we can surmise that Stegner had feminist leanings. (The novel is mostly a recollection of the US West being built, in the 1870s and 1880s.)

It is also clear that Stegner knows all about perverse incentives, double dealing, and conflicts of interest likely to be resolved dishonorably.  These will be the hallmarks of the Trump years, on a scale never seen before in US history. While not exactly comforting to find allusions to such things in a work of great literature, at the very least we can take heart that Trump's venality is nothing new. Stegner had Trump's type pegged long ago. He is nothing special.

2. Trump will eventually, and mercifully, be in the rearview mirror. There is no sense in always dwelling on him. For Stegner also understands the timeless, mysterious dynamics of marriage. These dynamics will remain ever with us. From the same chapter, which describes a gathering of distinguished men inside a rustic home: "She" [Oliver Ward's wife Susan Burling Ward] wished he had not taken off his coat, hot as the cabin was. With his brown corded forearms and his sunburned forehead he seemed one fitted for merely physical actions, like a man one might hire to get work done, not one who could devise policy and direct the actions of others. With a sad, defensive certainty she saw that he lacked some quality of elegance and ease, some fineness of perception, that these others had. It seemed to her that he sat like a boy among men, earnest and honest, but lacking in nimbleness of mind."

Harsh but honest. By the end of this chapter Susan feels guilty about these thoughts, which describes the cycle perfectly.

Stegner knew whereof he spoke, and had the grace and poise to describe it. We can ask no more of our writers than this.

Inspired by Hugh McGuire: Writing as Exploration

Originally posted on Medium.

P vs E

KQED, the Bay Area's principal public radio station, also has a signal in "North Highlands - Sacramento." What I used to hear on 88.5 FM is now conveniently available at 89.3 instead.

This morning KQED ran the latest of its "Perspectives" series, in which members of the community share their insights about current affairs or cultural developments. Terence Krista, a school librarian in San Francisco, offered his views about the continuing value of print books for young readers. He bases this upon his experience observing children at a recent book fair hosted by his school.

I agree with much of Krista's commentary, both because it reflects his experience as a school librarian and because friends of ours with young children also talk about how much their kids love print books. In Krista's own words: "Children are such tactile beings, still discovering their world by touch. How pleasurable it must be to hold this container that so beautifully enfolds the stories they treasure."

Hear hear! Krista clearly loves his job as well as the children he reaches. And given the typical cognitive development of children, I  believe that print books are more age and stage appropriate than electronic books.

This does not mean this is true for everyone at all stages of their lives. Unfortunately, though, Krista goes there. He pits print books against ebooks in a binary way, with zero sum observations like these: "If the [book] fair was selling books downloaded to some electronic reading device, would the longing and excitement have been the same?" "Recent reports have sales of ebooks down by 10%, while sales of paperbacks are up by 13...Maybe we are all weary of the tyranny of our electronic screens."

Ahem. Fluctuations in sales figures for what is still a very new technology are not indicative that this new technology is doomed. It may well be that ebooks never catch on, but we could also just be in a lull as the next generation of ereader technologies evolves. Print books, which now feel eternal, took decades to become commonplace after the invention of the printing press.

As an adult reader I value both print books (for the reasons Krista describes) as well as e-books. With an e-reader I can look up an unfamiliar word in context, highlight key passages in different colors that form an annotated code, take searchable notes, and insert multiple bookmarks. And, obviously, it is possible to carry around hundreds of books on a lightweight device in a way that is not possible with print. This is why public libraries now allow for the download of ebooks as well as the loaning of print.

There is no right or wrong here. These are just two different dissemination methods, each with their own strengths.

Absolutely -- let children discover the joy of print when they are young with minds wide open. But don't deny them the pleasures of an ebook as they get older and seek to sharpen those very same minds.

Meet Virginia

My most valuable course at Northwestern, in fall quarter junior year, was about the novels of Virginia Woolf. In addition to offering an immersion into the mind of one of the greatest ever writers, this course honed my writing skills. The challenge of drafting brief papers to describe momentous themes sharpened my ability to hone in on the essence of the matter.

To the Lighthouse was a particular challenge to understand. I was too young to understand this modernist work that was (virtually) no plot and all perception. Family ties are frayed, love endures through struggle, eventually there is a successful voyage to the aforementioned lighthouse. C'est la vie, I 'spose, but who cares?

I do now, after re-reading the novel 18 years later. These days a novel that is composed of interior dialogues and shifting perspectives is full of drama. Legitimate drama too -- not the flash of an everyday page turner. Here's an original work, constructing incisive work.

To wit: "Where to begin?--that was the question at what point to make the first mark? One line placed on the canvas committed her [Lily Briscoe] to innumerable risks, to frequent and irrevocable decisions. All that in idea seemed simple became in practice immediately complex." It has ever been so, but usually such insights do not arrive in a blinding flash of brilliance.

"I Would Prefer Not To"

Like many others, in high school I read Herman Melville's inscrutable short story "Bartleby, the Scrivener." This tale, of the law clerk who inexplicably refuses to complete standard tasks, was mysterious and impenetrable.

Bartleby's immortal line is "I would prefer not to." This is what he frequently says to the attorney (never named) who is his ostensible superior. This attorney never fires Bartleby, whose refusal to complete his assigned tasks causes more work for his resentful colleagues.

I had not pondered Bartleby's firm refusals for many years. For me this was just an odd little story assigned in high school.

This has now changed, thanks to Andrew Kahn's brilliant annotation of "Bartleby" for Slate. Accompanied by Garbriel Roth's excellent audio-reading of "Bartleby" for Slate Plus members, I now appreciate "Bartleby" for the brilliant work of literature it has long been.

Whether Bartleby's refusal is an act of political resistance or an expression of enlightened detachment from everyday cares, his example is worth pondering.

Although Kahn is modest about the scope of his outstanding annotations, his work does chart a course for understanding the strands of interpretation that have attached to "Bartleby" since its appearance in 1853. He lights the interpretative paths, and we can choose which of those to follow.

Meanwhile Roth's vivid reading highlights the musicality and verve of Melville's prose. I smiled frequently and chuckled often -- particularly in its early passages, "Bartleby" is hilarious. As the conflict deepens between Bartleby and the attorney, the attorney makes a genuine -- if pompous -- attempt to discern Bartleby's motivations. Here the language becomes more reflective and searching. As Bartleby is forcibly removed from the law offices (where he had been living without authorization) the tone becomes mournful. All of these transitions are effortless, perfectly cadenced, and a reminder of how good writing can be.

Melville was a virtuoso, of course, the author of one the most essential books of American literature in Moby Dick. But even though I could not see it in high school, he also brought all his skills to bear in this masterpiece of a short story. Although you might prefer not to re-read "Bartleby," you are henceforth advised to do so.

A Resounding Victory for Fair Use: The Latest Google Books Ruling

This past Friday the US Second Circuit Court of Appeals defended the fair use claims of Google Books, loudly and proudly.  Affirming a 2013 ruling that staked out the same territory, the Circuit Court sided with Google on all counts.

Despite what is now a decade's worth of efforts by author's and publisher's groups to tarnish Google Books as a copyright infringing bogeyman, no court has ever seen it this way. It will take a Supreme Court ruling to finally put this issue to rest.

Bring it on. To date, our judicial branch has been more progressive than our creative class on this front. The author/publisher arguments boil down to the claim that Google needs to obtain explicit permission for each and every book scan of the millions it has made for Google Books. This is impractical, even for a company of Google's size and reach. It is also impossible, as many of the authors who would need to grant such permission are either dead or unreachable. 

These proposed remedies are disingenuous at best, cynical and misleading at worst.  What the authors and publishers are seeking to do is to destroy the concept of fair use, under the guise of sticking up for the little guy.

Indeed, it has already been problematic that Google is leading this effort. This fact has stoked the rhetorical fire of authors and publishers. Yes, the Library of Congress should have seized this challenge years ago and not ceded the field to Google.

But here we are. The legal issues must remain separable from the fact that Google is leading this effort.  The Circuit Court agrees: "Google's profit motivation does not in these circumstances justify denial of fair use" (Page 4 of ruling). 

Exactly, and precisely. Hear hear.

On Language: Prescriptivism and Descriptivism

Brian Koppelman's recent interview with Bryan Garner, the author of Modern American Usage, resurfaced the unresolved tension in linguistic circles between prescriptivists and descriptivists. Garner is an unapologetic prescriptivist, willing to issue judgment about both correct and felicitous word usage. Linguists such as John McWhorter and Steven Pinker are descriptivists, suspicious of bright line edicts and preferring instead to observe how people speak without judging the correctness of what they say.

Garner is an attorney with a long career in guiding lawyers in how to write more clearly. He came to general awareness in 2001, with the publication of David Foster Wallace's essay "Tense Present" in Harper's. (Wallace later republished this essay in Consider the Lobster.) I re-read this piece last evening, and it is as fresh and brilliant as ever. In what is at first blush a review of Garner's erudite tome Modern American Usage, Wallace lays bare the ideological and human stakes underlying the debate between presciptivism and descriptivism. It's well worth reading, including the digressions which Wallace advises readers to skip.

At root, prescriptivism in normative. You don't say "I ain't going." You do say, "I do not plan to attend." You don't observe, "He be trippin'," rather you proclaim, "That gentleman is momentarily indisposed due to the ingestion of a mind-altering substance." And so forth.

We all know this. And we all know that how people speak influences how others think of them. This may not be fair, but it has ever been so. The entire premise of My Fair Lady is about teaching a poor woman to  speak differently, so that she may become a lady.

But who makes these rules and why should anyone obey them? They weren't passed by any legislature, and looking down one's nose at others about how they speak seems like a particularly tragic use of a fine education. Furthermore, standard English is not always elegant or concise. Sometimes it's just stuffy.

Garner's in on this racket, say the descriptivists. From his fancy perch he issues edicts and disrespects the vernacular language of marginalized people.

Hold on! says Wallace (defending Garner). All language is normative, and there is no way around it. There is always a dominant form--think of China, where Mandarin is the official language even though there are countless regional dialects. There has to be a base, there has to be a standard. So if Garner's brand of English usage fades away, another dominant approach will arise in its place.

Indeed it is true that dominant linguistic standards are enforced by privileged people, but this does not mean it is unwise to learn them. The way to get ahead is to learn the speak that privileged language, which means that descriptivists are actually harming the people they claim to support.

Both in his recent interview and in his 2004 essay "Making Peace in the Language Wars," Garner shies away from the sensation of disrespect that his brand of prescriptivism engenders. It lands as one more tool of oppression, even though what Garner suggests regarding proper word usage could be the key to a changed life.

We can be respectful of people's sensitivities without arguing that prescriptivism has no value. That's not true. Wallace notes that those who seek to make change, such as Mahatma Gandhi or Martin Luther King, always speak the language of people with power. It's the only way to get them to listen.