Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Tweets Against The "Tipping Point"



Just on a radio show w/ some smart liberal (not left) activists. They kept talking about the "tipping point" toward Dem victories.

Thing is, "tipping points" aren't actuall *things.* It's a marketing slogan for Malcolm Gladwell. History doesn't work like that.

The "tipping point" is age-of-globalization speak for the Cold War concept of a paradigm shift. That turned out to be faulty, too.

The mythical "tipping point" is a rhetorical escalation from the Cold War "paradigm shift": It's a subtly apocalyptic narrative

To screeching of GOP--world as we (read: white people) know it is ending--dem "tipping point" narrative says, "Yr world is ending!"

For Dems to claim "tipping point" based on demographic changes is to conflate ideology & issues. RW issues will change; ideology, no.

So conservatives & liberals both claim a coming "tipping point." Meanwhile, the center slouches rightward, whoever's in office.

By "center" you mean the DC ruling elite, right? Not some collection of policy views widely held by the electorate, right?

. Yes. I should have put "center" in scare quotes. Another mythical beast.

The the problem w/ "tipping point" narratives, left or right: They all perpetuate a reactionary idea of history.

Establishments *like* "tipping point" narratives. They're sort of like singing "The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow!" Well, yes, and...?

Establishments also like "tipping point" narratives because they *seem* populist even as they depend on a theater of the elites.

I don't blame people for believing in "tipping points." The idea seems to make so much sense! Sort of like the "good ol' days."

All kinds of activists want to believe in "tipping points"; idea is like megaphone booming at people living in ordinary flow of time.

Idea of a "tipping point" erases radical dissent. Replaces the work of an ideological break w/ illusory tide of demographic change.

The "tipping point" narrative isn't just neoliberal: It's a kind of social darwinism, an idea of politics as ultimately "natural."

Off twitter: That seems like a heavy charge, but the problem with viruses such as Gladwell's "tipping point" narrative is that you can carry them without knowing it. Liberal "tipping point" apostles aren't deliberately preaching social Darwinism, and they're legitimately excited about demographic shifts in the U.S. population that will, we hope, bring an end to the still ingrained culture of subtly supremacist whiteness. But that doesn't mean reactionary politics will disappear. Backwards-looking conservatism and capitalist neoliberalism will take new forms -- and appeal to new demographics.

Not because they're a natural part of some generalized "political mind," but because they're there, and ideas don't change themselves. They need changing. That's long, slow work, the kind of work Christian conservatives began undertaking in the 1930s to achieve their victories of today.

Some liberals will say, "What? The Christian Right is dead!" Tell that to women in the rapidly increasing number of states that are legislating Roe v. Wade out of existence. The anti-abortion movement is finally winning, not through a big sweeping law but by telling its stories, over and over, for decades. There was no "tipping point"; rather, a political, cultural, moral narrative piled up on top of the truth bit by bit until it grew as big as a mountain.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Michael Hastings, An Honest Reporter, 1980-2013

Tonight comes the terrible, terrible news of the death of Michael Hastings, 33, one of those incredibly rare investigative journalists gifted with anger, honesty, and the courage to genuinely challenge -- and in one great instance, topple -- power. Hastings put himself in both physical danger and at risk of the subtler kind of career-crushing that destroyed Gary Webb, but it was, apparently, a simple car crash that killed him. 

I corresponded with him once or twice, but I didn't know him. I'm not writing as a friend but as a colleague -- we both wrote for Rolling Stone -- who looked at his brilliant expose of Gen. Stanley McChrystal with an admiration so great it subsumed envy. I've been in some similar places. I know how hard it is to resist the mindfuck of power, to write down not what power says officially but its actual burps, its trivial hisses, the tiny little snarls that reveal it for what it is. 

And I'm writing as just an ordinary citizen -- there's not much hope in the news, but what Hastings did was inspiring. What he did was actually pretty ordinary, too -- he reported what the general said. What he actually said. And that was enough to damn the general. It didn't end the war, it was barely a bump in the path of empire, but Jesus, even that -- it was beautiful. As was the outcry of a thousand hacks crying foul because Hastings did what they couldn't do: he reported the facts. Hastings drew them out into the open. So, really, it was a double expose -- of the general and the press corps that made him.

That was Hastings' biggest scoop, but there was much, much more to his career. Tim Dickinson at Rolling Stone offers a good summary, including links to many important stories -- McChrystal, Hastings' drone expose, and this stunning profile of "America's Last Prisoner of War" -- and a send off to a brave reporter. There were "stories burning inside him," says his editor there, Will Dana. That's something. 

As it happens, I had this issue of Vermont Life, with Hastings as cover boy -- that must have made the parents who raise him in Burlington immensely proud -- on my nightstand to read. I'd been surprised to see such a tough cover on the magazine. It immediately made me think that I wanted to invite Hastings to come speak at Dartmouth, where I teach, just across the river. Get him some Ivy League cash, blow some student minds -- and I'd get to talk to him, too. I missed my chance. 

What a sorry day for all of us.


Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Help Me Teach James Agee's Let Us Now Praise Famous Men

I'm teaching James Agee's and Walker Evans' Let Us Now Praise Famous Men to my undergraduate students in my "intermediate" literary journalism class at Dartmouth College tomorrow. My problem: Too many of them loathe this masterpiece. Or, rather, they think they do. That's where I want your help.

A colleague of mine teaches Let Us Now Praise Famous Men in a course on American prose. Students encountering the book as an object of critical inquiry are exhilarated by it. But I've discovered that students here at Dartmouth, at least, encountering the book in a creative writing course, are quick to dismiss it. Every critique they level at it -- overwrought, grandiose, "unreadable," self-absorbed -- is dead on, of course. But there's more, too, so much more.

This is my second time teaching the book. The first time their contempt for it caught me by surprise. This time, I'm planning all kinds of strategies to help them open their minds to it.

This one is crass: I'd like to hear from other writers what Let Us Now Praise Famous Men means or meant to them. I want to highlight for my students the discrepancy between their certainty that this book is "bad" or somehow simply "wrong" and its ripple effect among writers.

So if the book matters to you, or mattered to you, will you comment below or send me a note about how or why at jeff dot sharlet at gmail dot com?

Monday, May 13, 2013

Fetishizing Dialogue


I'm interested in the way the rough shape of an essay can emerge from a set of tweets. Here's one from this morning prompted by a Harvard Crimson editorial criticizing anti-rape and anti-hate protests at Dartmouth College, where I teach.

Harvard Crimson scolds Dartmouth protesters for failing to pursue "dialogue." Student self-repression.

The assumption that "dialogue" solves all problems is profoundly paternalistic -- & naive.

The fetish for "dialogue" above all -- including legit anger & actual inquiry -- is a politics of presumption.

Fetish for "dialogue" assumes those you disagree w/ lack only your insight; assumes they want to "compromise." As if they have no agency.

I hear this from students all time; they forgive bigotries on assumption bigots lack approp "culture." Cant believe hate can be chosen.

David Creech, a religious studies scholar at Loyola University Chicago, wrote: What alternative to dialog do you propose?

Demand for alternative to "dialogue" assumes solutions always at hand. Sometimes whats needed is diagnosis, nt prescription.

Student fetish for "dialogue" a form of technocratic optimism based on free market myth of "exchange" as end in itself.

Creech wrote: Dialog for me implies also listening, the possibility that I might be changed by your insight and experience.

That's great when it's an option. But it assumes a desire for common ground. Which is a form of paternalism.

Creech: Desire for common ground as paternalism... Intriguing suggestion... I will have to chew on that for a bit.

The desire for common ground isn't paternalim; the assumption that others share it is.

Take the example of Uganda's "kill-the-gays" activists. Some assumed they needed dialogue. They thought that funny. 1/2

2/2 because they knew the arguments against homophobic genocide. Knew them & rejected them. Not looking for my "insight."

Defenders of "dialogue" as end in itself see only other option as brutality. They fail to imagine possibility of open-ended problem.

A perfect example of chosen bigotry: Heritage Foundation's Harvard-powered, race-based, anti-immigration "study."

Well-intentioned liberals always ask how we can "educate" haters. Elite haters don't need "education"; they need to be challenged.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Sally Tweets; or, Beating the Essay

Essay: A loose sally of the mind.
--From Samuel Johnson's Dictionary, as quoted too often.


From a real review of a real book: "Traces the story of a relationship--or does it? For X, ambiguity is the point." Dude.

& what I mean by "dude" is that talk of "the essay" has devolved into stonerisms.

I'm wary of abstract nouns preceded by articles. "The Essay." "The People." There are people & there are essays. That shld be enough.

Maybe my problem is that I don't need to "essai" to recognize that what I write - "The Journalism" - can never be anything but an attempt.

But what if we did put an article b4 journalism? The Journalism? Wld that make Walt Whitman, Zora Neale Hurston, & others ok again?

Robin Hemley, in a recent essay, mocks the essayistic tendency of arranging "facts" gleaned from a google, w/ the pretense of library time.

The pretense of library time shld clue us in to the idea that too much of the current "essay" is style. Sort of bibliographic steampunk.

Like most longform journalists I know, I spend *a lot* of time in the library. If that search is part of the story, great. if not, fine.

But I trip myself up w/ use of "story." Some essayists insist that's conservative. Only if you have a conservative idea of what a story is.

The fetishization of form, *at the deliberate expense of story,* is a greater conservatism. It's the old "Art," plaything of aristocrats.


Sounds like you're beating a straw man there, bro. Who actually does that?

You wouldn't understand, you dirty journalist. (But no, not a straw man at all. As an Essai-iste, I refuse to name names.)

Do we need essays to tell us "ambiguity is the point"? We already knew we can never really know. The "point" is to try, anyway. To essay.

To "essay" -- to try -- means to experiment. & yet increasingly the academic creative essay is inadvertent parody. Replication.


I think you just need to take your mind out for a good, loose sally.

Sally Tweets; or, Beating The Essay.



Sunday, March 31, 2013

I teach, students decide

This anonymous student evaluation, essentially comparing me to a hallucinogen, is probably the best review I'll ever  receive:

You will find yourself at the end of the term, lying in bed, delirious from eight hours of sleep out of the last seventy-two, floating in a moment of clarity. A moment when everything he ranted on about -- bodies, liberation, time, entertainment, wit -- puzzles together. 

 

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Literary Journalism on Women at Work: A Too-Short List

Today I'm looking for literary journalism, or creative nonfiction, or lyric essays -- or mutant journalism -- on women at work. I'd like to add some of these pieces to a syllabus for a creative nonfiction course I teach at Dartmouth College called "Whose Story Is It?" For one section of the course, I want writing about ordinary people writing. Not memoir; writers going out into the world and trying to account for what they find. What they tend to find, when it comes to work, is men. There are notable exceptions, but not enough. So I'm making a list. It's very short so far. What can you add?

Katherine Boo, "Swamp Nurse"

Katherine Boo, "The Churn" (factory worker)

Leslie T. Chang, Factory Girls

Edwin Dobbs, "The New Oil Landscape" (dirty water hauler)

Barbara Ehrenreich, Nickel and Dimed

Wendy Ewald, Magic Eyes

Sonia Faleiro, Beautiful Thing (bar dancer)

Zora Neale Hurston, Mules and Men (hoodoo practitioner)

Sarah Jaffe, "Trickle-Down Feminism" (valuable critical essay on work)

Tracy Kidder, Among Schoolchildren (teacher)

Jeanne Marie Laskas, "Joy Ride" (truckers)

Jeanne Marie Laskas, "G-L-O-R-Y!" (NFL cheerleaders)

Sarah Leonard, "She Can't Sleep No More" (Silicon Valley)

Mac McLelland, "I Was a Warehouse Wage Slave" 

Tracie McMillan, The American Way of Eating

John McPhee, "Travels in Georgia" (biologist)

Susan Orlean, "The Bullfighter Checks Her Makeup"

Jeff Sharlet, "The Rapture" (new age healer)

Jeff Sharlet & Peter Manseau, "Crestone, Colorado" (witch)

Diane Simon, Hair

Maureen Stanton, "Good Guys" (nuclear plant painter)

Sallie Tisdale, "We Do Abortions Here"

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Take Care of Your Teeth, Catherine Treyz, 2013

Every now and then a writing student delivers a paragraph so so simple but rich that it could be a short story unto itself. All the more remarkable given that my students are studying the nonfiction genre I call mutant journalism. Here's one from a student named Catherine Treyz, describing a bus ride to the next town over from Hanover with concision that'd be the envy of Ben Hecht:
The bus started and I opened a pack of gum. A woman turned around and told me, "Take care of your teeth. I lost mine during rehab--opiate addiction." Her lips formed what I perceived as a smile. Her bottom lip practically tickled her nose. She turned back around and re-entered the larger bus debate about the weather. Then a man bit into an apple. "Take care of your teeth," she said.

Small Town Mutant Journalism

I'm thinking of organizing my spring term course in creative nonfiction/literary journalism/mutant journalism around writing about a nearby town. So I'm thinking about some books for the syllabus, books about towns and small cities, books about people in a place that's neither rural nor urban nor suburban. Narrative, immersive work, not history or formal scholarship. Below is a list from my shelves. I'd be interesting in hearing recommendations, of books, longform narrative journalism, and documentary film.

"Kid Cannabis," Mark Binelli, Rolling Stone (via Jonathan Ringen)
Couer D'Alene, Idaho

"Escanaba's Magic Hours," Tom Bissell, Magic Hours
Escanaba, Michigan

Friday Night Lights, Buzz Bissinger
Odessa, Texas

Hometown, Peter Davis
Hamilton, Ohio

Dogtown, Elyssa East
Gloucester, Massachusetts

Cold New World, William Finnegan
New Haven, Connecticut

The Great Plains, Ian Frazier

Praying for Sheetrock, Melissa Fay Greene
McIntosh County, Georgia

"Dr. Don," Peter Hessler, The New Yorker (via Matthew Shaer)
Nucla, Colorado

"Midnight in the Garden of East Texas," Skip Hollandsworth, Texas Monthly (via Max Linsky)
Carthage, Texas

Mules and Men, Zora Neale Hurston
Eatonville, Florida

Home Town, Tracy Kidder
Northampton, Massachusetts

The Other Side of the River, Alex Kotlowitz (via Anna Clark)
St. Joseph and Benton Harbor, Michigan

"The All-American Bank Heist," by David Kushner, GQ (via Max Linsky)
Monroe, Washington

Wisconsin Death Trip, Michael Lesy
Black River Falls, Wisconsin

The Undertaking, Thomas Lynch
Milford, Michigan

"The Acme Corporation," Alec MacGillis, Harper's
Acme, Michigan

Class A, Lucas Mann
Clinton, Iowa

Blessed Assurance, A.G. Mojtabai
Amarillo, Texas

Dakota, Kathleen Norris

Down at the Docks, Rory Nugent
New Bedford, Massachusetts

The Right Side of the River, Roger Pinckney
Daufuskie Island, South Carolina

"The Heart of Football Beats in Aliquippa," S.L. Price, Sports Illustrated (via Max Linsky)
Aliquippa, Pennsylvania

Methland, Nick Redding
Oelwein, Iowa

"Looking for a Ghost," Wright Thompson, ESPN.com (via Matthew Hunte)
Alcorn, Mississippi

Killings, Calvin Trillin

"The Secret Sharer," JoAnn Wypijewski, Harper's
Jamestown, New York

"A Boy's Life," JoAnn Wypijewski, Harper's
Laramie, Wyoming


Documentaries:

Brother's Keeper, Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky
Munnsville, New York

Harlan County, USA, Barbara Kopple

My Winnipeg, Guy Maddin (via Anne Mette Lundtoffe)

Wisconsin Death Trip, James Marsh
Black River Falls, Wisconsin

Nimrod Nation, Brett Morgen
Watersmeet, Michigan

Roger & Me, Michael Moore
Flint, Michigan

Vernon, Florida, Errol Morris



Suggestions?

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Torture, differently considered

My former colleague Angela Zito, an unorthodoxly radical media scholar at NYU, dismisses the liberal complaints about Zero Dark Thirty in favor of a deeper -- and more intriguingly appreciative -- reading:
The film’s “realism” lies elsewhere, buried deep in its own materiality on the screen.  I found it confusing to watch at an intimate level, at the level of the eye.... we’re sharing the experience of the characters who cannot grasp without great difficulty the vast amount of information they must sift through, much of which is images: the plot hinges on the misinterpretation of a photograph of a person. It conveys the reality of their lives through the reality of the materiality of the image itself in our digital age—distortable, manipulable, grainy, foggy, overwhelmingly too much.
"On Not Enjoying Zero Dark Thirty," at The Revealer.

The Revealer's current editor, Ann Neumann, has filed one of the most gripping and artfully constructed essays on a boring subject I can imagine at Guernica. By "boring" I mean a subject I'd normally avoid: forced feeding. But trust me -- you read "The Longest Hunger Strike" not just for what it says about torture (a theme of my digressive reading today, apparently) but also for the way Ann makes characters out of talking heads, vivid images out of phone conversations, empathy out of wonkery, and a terrifying, compelling, and perhaps necessary story out of this most gruesome of topics.

Here's a related post I wrote for The Revealer back when I was its editor: "Making Torture Beautiful."