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Eat, Pray, Love

No, I’m not reading the book. Or watching the movie. I have too much to do. But I did read this anthropology blog post about it, and it was interesting.

Gilbert’s quest feels to me a little like the traditional mission of the avant-garde artist. She is keen to discover her real self, the one concealed by a middle class commitment to husbands, babies and suburbs. But it’s not long before we see that she is also a postmodernist. For she is searching not for a single self, but for several of them.

This is a book about eating, praying AND loving. Gilbert seeks her self in Italy, Indian AND Indonesia. Gilbert is tempted along the way to cultivate one of these existential modalities. But no. She refuses to choose…

This is the postmodern voice. When told that one ‘life choice,’ one ‘self choice,’ must cost us the other, the postmodernist says, “I refuse to choose. I will have them both.”

Indeed.

Neither Child Nor Adult, But Human

I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed and lost lately. I gave myself too much to do these past few months, and have done very little. Also I’ve grown weary of and frustrated with myself. Some recurring bad habits and choices, combined with feeling like I’m constantly selfish and making things about me, and not supportive or thoughtful enough of other people in my life.

But this doesn’t mean I’m not an adult, in the guilt-inducing false child/adult dichotomy. I’m not very interested in being “an adult” and feeling bad about when I’m “not working” or living up to my potential or whatever (what kind of potential are we talking about?). Beating myself up over these things just makes things worse, at least for me. Maybe that sort of negative, guilt-ridden motivation works for some people.

I’m interested in being a healthy, full human being. Human beings are always changing, and change isn’t always progressive or healthy. Human beings aren’t work machines, and to become one wouldn’t be good. I’m interested in being kind, and treating others, and myself, with respect, intelligence and playfulness. In trying to guide my change in healthy ways that are progressive for me.

Much the same way that capitalism’s focus on profit and as the primary value of action (rather than other values like, say, accomplishing useful things, or mutual aid, or enjoying life), and competition as the primary mode of being, damages us all, stunting the humanity and autonomy of even the most priviliged people, so does the protestent work ethic restrain us from being full human beings, happy with ourselves, kind to ourselves.

Sure, I have goals. Thinking about the above has helped refine them. And I have work to do. But, working on them is the end in itself: living. The means are the end. The work I need to do is growth towards a better, happier me, not just work so I can get something.

Put another way, I want to internalize and live out certain values, rather than acting a part and meeting expectations.

I have a lot of growth to do. It’s nice to have a few days where the above seems clear in my mind. (Reading Anarchism and its Aspirations has helped, as these things sometimes do.) But I so easily return to negative thinking, hopelessness at all I have yet to learn and do. I need to internalize these values and not let myself be so easily cognitively trapped — however materially trapped I am — in the workaday world and its ways of thinking and oppressing.

Being upset by things like tween bikini waxing, and inspired by things like RightRides, also helps, in a motivational sense…

From Avvisos to Asimov

My previous meandering post comes from disorganized thoughts on mass production and modernity, really. Learning more about the history of art, it’s interesting how much it demonstrates how everytyhing people do is symptomatic of context — of the always contingent emerging human world — and difficult to fully comprehend after the fact in the changed world.

For example:

I was thinking recently about serial fiction. The BBC has done an updated adaptation of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, with cell phones and twitter. The creators’ contention is that Sherlock isn’t defined by 19th Century ephemera like frock coats and gas lamps, but by things like the unique characterization of a detective who solves mysteries by deductive reasoning, and explains his methods and reasoning.

I also learned that House, MD is loosely based on Holmes. Certainly Holmes was a popular precursor to many other popular and recurring characters in detective fiction like Agatha Christie’s Poirot.

I found myself thinking of novels and serial fiction as such modern phenomena: television shows, characters like Poirot, science fiction “universes,” and all these things leading to the peculiar phenomenon of “fans” who follow specific characters or universes. But on reflection, people have always liked to revisit favorite characters and worlds. From Greek gods and heroes to Native American legends and stories, “experiencing a very real social connection to imaginary beings and telling story after story about them” seems, on reflection, to be a human universal.

But where does the Western mass media version originate? The creation of so much serial fiction that we can view it as a phenomenon — and product! — unto itself, with fan clubs (Hercules spawned roman cults, so I guess that’s not necessarily new…) — where does it come from?

Let’s work it backwards: authors can make a living writing serials and reusing characters and worlds because owners of presses (magazines, newspapers, TV networks) will happily pay them. There is an audience. Where does the audience come from? Increased literacy and spending power, perhaps. Maybe also Marxist alienation! But let’s get more material. Where did magazines et al. come from in the first place? Because Wikipedia suggests that serial fiction has been around almost as long as magazines.

It looks like magazines appeared out of the newspaper and gazette subscriptions in the 17th and 18th centuries. But where did they come from? It turns out the earliest regularly-published, standard-format publications were handwritten newsletters in Italy and Germany in the 16th century. Merchants and politicos were willing to pay for information to get an edge. And, I guess it’s not surprising that enterprising publishers inventing subscription busines models and the like saw a benefit to adding entertainment and art into the mix. The first magazines begain in the mid 1700s, and the first serial fiction was being published soon after.

Oh, and those early handwritten newsletters were handwritten because printing presses were too slow at the time! Oh, hello, Internet!

Modern Art

I’ve been enjoying and learning more about paintings and art in museums this summer, visiting MoMA and The Met and others. Aesthetically, I find a sort of similarity between the kind of music I like and the kind of art I’m discovering I like – though I may also be imagining links where there are none.

Discovering I like “modern” art, and exploring Autechre’s 2010 albums, Oversteps and Move of Ten, I came across this review of Oversteps that is really more like an art critic’s review of Autechre’s 20-odd year career, followed by a short review of the album. It’s one of the best writeups I’ve seen of their music, and also helped me flesh out my thinking on art in general. I even decided to wander the halls of MoMA a couple times while listening chronologically to all of Autechre’s back catalog.

“Like all good art, Autechre allows itself to be symptomatic, instead of futilely trying to be socially relevant,” writes the reviewer.

On a recent visit to the Met, the Modern area was mostly closed for installation, prompting me to explore earlier art more. Exploring Braque, Van Gogh, Rembrandt and others, it struck me how much art has changed. Particularly post-photography. There are many other things about “modernity” that influence artistic expression, but I am stuck on the idea that mechanized means of production — and reproduction — greatly affected the art world. One begins to understand the point of, say, Warhol.

Autechre are creating music decades after the invention of tools to make music electronically. Tape loops, record players, turntables, synthesizers, hip-hop, disco, remixing… Music has been made for half a century out of the tools dreamt up in the 40s and 50s. So many factors have influenced changes in art and aesthetics. The blooming of the middle class as both audience and producers of art, rather than just elites and patrons; post-war industrialization and invention leading to easy reproduction and re-use of art…

no electronic musician today can create without doing so on the administered grounds of an abstracted avant-garde moment which pioneered both electronic products and likewise the principals that they are somehow liberating which comes along with them. In short, the avant-garde slipped into the culture industry and the administration of younger generations through products. No artist today can use a synth or music software without being tacitly forced to subscribe to the obscured cultural zeitgeist of generations earlier

This is true of all instruments; they are products of a previous cultural zeitgeist. After all, Mozart did not compose for the piano, because it didn’t exist yet; his era’s pianofortes were rather different in sound. But no previous artistic age emerged from such industrial mass production and engineering, so perhaps there is a fundamental difference.

Artists of the past sought to master and perfect their vision. In “the modern era,” this sometimes seems to have shifted towards a constant exploration of boundaries, a desire to stretch and redefine our limitations. Perhaps this is endemic to “the modern era.” And, yes, I think the best art is more symptomatic than overtly engineered. Evolutionary rather than intelligently designed, you might say. The latter most often seems to me to produce mere curiosities.

My Own Fries

Last night, walking home, I saw a trio of young boys (9 or 10, maybe?) walking along, each with a styrofoam fast-food container full of catsup-covered fries. My quick judgement was they each had a serving of fries too big for their stomachs, but I understood the urge to have one’s own order all to oneself.

Regardless of the validity of my judgement (perhaps the servings were just right!), it led me to wonder about how universal this experience is.

I recall being young, and how important it was to have my own things. Sharing’s great, but having your own serving or toy can make you feel more individual, independent, or adult. Hand-me-down’s are understandable, but you’d rather have your own that’s unique to you; it’s tied up with your sense of identity, maybe. Even as a grown-up, I’m inclined to buy a new “something” for myself rather than have someone else’s used things, even if “refurbished,” although economic circumstances are highly influential in this decision process.

But, how much of this is a universal human urge? How much of it is influenced by a culture that highly values newness and ties identity to material posessions? As a young person, do you sense the need to have your own things because you see it as something adult figures value? Or are these innate urges that modern marketing merely magnifies? Does this urge go all the way back to our ancestors who may have valued the tools and supplies that served their survival in an uncertain world, and looked to cling to them and defend them from loss, damage or misuse?

As our species faces ever more pressing issues of sustainability, and (hopefully) questions the deep assumptions of capitalism, can we find ways to encourage and magnify the also human urge to share resources wisely and efficiently? Is there a possible world where three young boys out on the town decide to get just one large serving of fries to share rather than each purchasing their own? (Or is that actually pretty common in many places, and I’m limited by only seeing one example, with these boys, in this city, in this part of the world?)

This work by Adam Piontek is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 United States.