I don’t blog much as is evident but then there’s this thought…

Jan 202012
 

As a Canuck transplanted to the U.K. this struck me as something of a shocking statistic: 67% of U.S. voters would be “somewhat” or “very” uncomfortable with an atheist President. A tweep with an exponentially-better knowledge of, and sympathy for, U.S. history observed  that this is in spite of some of the greatest American presidents in history being acknowledged agnostics and perhaps (implicitly) atheists. Why the radical growth in anxiety over this issue in more recent years? Or why, especially now, in the 3rd millennium is there such as stir about the religiosity of the President?

I’m not the sort for giving authoritative answers, or at the very least I’m the sort nowadays who is trying to curb severely his appetite for providing them. I’m simply struck by a similar voice which sounded during Western Christianity’s “drift into respectable Christianity” (to quote Peter Brown) in the later 3rd and 4th c. “Quid Athenae Hierosolymis” asked the rather hyperactive, intense, in-your-face-I’m-wearing-Christianity-on-my-sleeve Tertullian. “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” You know the sort — home-schooling the kids, hand-wringing over ungodly paganisation of religion, a certain subset of Fox News’ demographic, shall we say. It is important to read the phenomenon of Tertullian correctly. (Oops, there I go with that authoritative voice again. Forgive me.) Well to quote a better authority,

Tertullian’s rhetorical flourish … is evidence not so much of a tip of a submerged iceberg of hostility to secular culture as of a need felt to strengthens Christians’ sense of their separate identity at a time of rapid assimilation which seemed to pose a threat to it. Since that time Christians had moved even further towards accepting the values and the culture of their pagan contemporaries. In the later third century they were beginning to penetrate every level of Roman society and to assimilate the culture, life-styles and education of Roman townsmen. The conversion of Constantine and the ensuing flow of imperial favour did nothing to reverse this, but brought growing respectability, prestige and wealth. (Robert Markus, The End of Ancient Christianity, p. 27)

I can’t help but see certain analogous things at work within the American Empire.  The growth of this (late-stage capitalist) empire’s hegemonic status and the concomitant neoliberalisation of all traditional institutions in it includes, of course, its various religious institutions and denominations. In fine, it is a period of the rapid assimilation of America’s various christianities to the normative value and culture of hegemonic capitalism. The assimilation is accompanied  by prestige and influence shared by these christianities. The strong desire for a “Christian” president is basically a desire, as I see it, to meet a similar felt need, the need to strengthen a sense of Christian identity over against mere “godlessness” within the Christian subcultures that are already assimilated in their deep structures and values to that of the capitalist empire in which they reside. American Christians say therefore that they would feel “somewhat” or “very uncomfortable” with an atheist President. I believe that in reality an atheist President would make them feel “somewhat” or “very uncomfortable” with themselves, and in particular, their belief in what constitutes Christianity. It is much easier to avoid cognitive dissonance when one can simply believe that one’s commitment to the capitalist Empire is a shared value with one’s religion. A “Christian” president in today’s hegemonic empire facilitates this piety.

 

 

Blogging is …

May 082011
 

If traditional scholarship is the equivalent of a flawless performance of the Haydn Trumpet Concerto, then blogging is like getting onstage with a rhythm section and improvising a solo on “Bye Bye Blackbird,” complete with occasional wrong notes and mental misfires. It’s the verbal version of a jam session.

The full thing here.

This is incredibly liberating. I wish I had read this much earlier, in more nascent stages of earlier semi-blogging eras of mine. One of my big hang-ups, with respect to the written word, is that less-than-formal, non-academic, conversational form does not come naturally. At all. I hold deeply-buried (and errant) preconceptions on what the written word is meant to be. And  “verbal jam session” is not one of them.

Well jamming (not the verbal kind, the musical kind) is what comes more naturally to me than just about anything else in life. So, from here on let’s jam. (Now, I just need to think of some tunes to call.)

Reading Taruskin: an insane idea of mine

May 072011
 

I’ve had the 5-volume Taruskin monstrosity (Is it 5? I think it’s 5. Yes it’s 5), in the affordable paperback obviously, lying about for a while now. Occasionally I dabble into it, but let’s face it, the thing is gigantic and intimidating. Why – I ask myself – would I want to commit countless hours of my life to the thing? Because it gigantic that’s why. That’s the appeal. But then…

I discovered The Taruskin Challenge, two grad students who are blogging their way through the “most monumental musicological work in generations.”

The rules of the Challenge are thus: we will read 10 pages per day, or 50 pages a week (weekends are off). It will take us 77 weeks, or about 1.25 years, to finish the book. The bite-sized daily reading regimen is meant to do two things: with less reading, we can slow down a bit, dig deeper into the text, and reflect. It also allows us to continue our normal lives without growing long beards and becoming hermits. We will each post a blog entry at least once a week, although (of course) we’re going to try to write as much as possible. You, the reader, are encouraged to chime in, if only with words of encouragement (the challenger’s equivalent to a cup of water given a running marathoner). We will also try to post pictures and sound files to support our meditations. The Taruskin Challenge should first and foremost be fun (musicologists are known to have a masochistic idea of “fun”).

Masochistic indeed. Who follows in their train? Oh heck, why not then.

I just wish I had found the blog earlier since they already appear to have reached the 20th century — Stravinsky and suchlike — whereas I am, well having not begun reading, roundabout Gregorian chant. However, the bloggers appear to have gone on a hiatus (probably writing their dissertations, those things always sneak up on you in the end) so perhaps I can catch up a little. Anyhow, I’ll hopefully post here as I go along.

A brief George Grant chronology of his books for those who might be interested …

May 032011
 

George Grant was born in Toronto on the 13th of November 1918. He graduated from Upper Canada College in 1936, a year after his father’s death. He read history at Queen’s University, completing his Honours BA in 1939. Having been awarded an Ontario Rhodes Scholarship he entered Balliol College, Oxford to study jurisprudence. His studies were interrupted by the war. After working as an Air Raid Precaution Officer in Bermondsey during the Battle of Britain he attempted to join the Merchant Marine but contracted tuberculosis and returned to Canada to convalesce. In 1945 he returned to Balliol but now to study theology. Here he met Sheila Allen whom he married in 1947. This year also he began to teach at Dalhousie University. He was awarded the DPhil degree for his dissertation “The Concept of Nature and Supernature in the Theology of John Oman” in 1950. Here are some dates for his subsequent major works:

  • 1960 Philosophy in the Mass Age – a revised version of nine radio talks broadcast on CBC Radio’s “University of the Air” in 1959. This book was published in a second edition with a reassessing introduction in 1966.
  • 1961 The article “An Ethic of Community” in Social Purpose for Canada, a book which was published to coincide with the launch of the New Democratic Party.

In 1961 George Grant became an Associate Professor of Religion at McMaster University.

  • 1965 Lament for a Nation This book was published in a second edition with a new introduction in 1970.
  • 1969 Technology and Empire
  • The Massey Lectures on the CBC were delivered also this year and subsequently published as Time as History.
  • 1974 The Josiah Wood Lectures at Mount Allison University, published as English-Speaking Justice. The Notre Dame University Press edition was published in 1985.

In 1980 he resigned from his position at McMaster and became the Killam Professor in the Department of Political Science at Dalhousie University with a cross-appointment to the Departments of Classics and Religion. He retired from teaching in 1984.

  • 1986 Technology and Justice
  • Est-ce la Fin du Canada? (French edition of Lament, reprinted in 1992).

George Grant died in Halifax on the 27th of September, 1988.

In 1998 The George Grant Reader, which collects a wide sample of his work in one volume, was published, It remains a good place to start for one interested in tracking the development of his thought and work.

Do You Know…

Apr 192011
 

Well, I just finished reading this book: “Do You Know… The Jazz Repertoire in Action, a sociological analysis of the way in which musicians “collectively negotiate and improvise their way to a successful performance” (as the blurb puts it). I thought it was great. Not as a piece of sociology. Whether it succeeds at that level or not I suppose the reviews will say. What do I know about that? I’m not a sociologist. I found it fascinating as a way of reflecting on my own experiences and historical location within the phenomenon they are narrating and presenting. I’d recommend it on that basis, as a muso, particularly to other musos who, like me, are younger and were “schooled” into jazz as it were.

The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

Mar 022011
 

Anyone who knows me is unlikely to know that my favourite film of all time is Les parapluies de Cherbourg. It’s just something they wouldn’t know. Though perhaps if they were Facebook friends they might suss it. Anyhow it is. Firstly, it’s all about the colour. Secondly, it’s Jacques Demy — perhaps my favourite of the New Wavers, at the very least he sits at the head table — his creation of the fantasy world which simultaneously pays homage to, and totally subverts, the classical Hollywood musical genre. Thirdly, it’s the music. Michel Legrand. Say no more. Two great standards have entered the canon via this film: I Will Wait for You and Watch What Happens (Recit de Cassard). I love these tunes. But beyond that the music in toto is fantastic. The through-composed recitative dialogue of the film and the boldly coloured scenes work synergistically to create the cinematic depiction of Cherbourg in which the story unfolds. Fourthly, the story! (See “subversion” point 2 above). Fifthly, sixthly, seventhly, and so on … Catherine Deneuve, the greatest screen actress of all time, obviously. Les parapluies was her breakthrough picture.

Why do I bring this up? Well, because I want to start blogging regularly again, and I couldn’t think of anything  else to post. Oh, that and to announce to the world that I am about to, with great trepidation, purchase some tickets to The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. That’s right. In three days a stage musical adaptation of the film will open in the West End’s Gielgud Theatre. I’m very nervous about seeing this, like people get nervous when it is announced that their favourite book is about to get Hollywood treatment. Well Les parapluies is my book and I’m nervous about it getting a West End treatment. Even still, as for me and my house, a must-see.

Well how about that, I blogged.

Until next time, here’s a great photo of Catherine Deneuve…

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