The Red Menace: A Striking Gallery of Anti-Communist Posters, Ads, Comic Books, Magazines & Films

Cold-War-Ads-The-Red-Menace

By its very nature, pro­pa­gan­da dis­torts the truth or tells out­right lies. It tar­gets our basest impulses—fear and anger, flight or fight. While works of pure pro­pa­gan­da may pre­tend to make log­i­cal argu­ments, they elim­i­nate nuance and over­sim­pli­fy com­pli­cat­ed issues to the point of car­i­ca­ture. These gen­er­al ten­den­cies hold true in every case, but nowhere, per­haps, is this gross exag­ger­a­tion and fear mon­ger­ing more evi­dent than in times of war.

Socialism 1909

And while we’ve all seen our share of wartime pro­pa­gan­da, we may be less famil­iar with the decades-long pro­pa­gan­da war the U.S. and West­ern Europe waged against social­ism and Com­mu­nism, even decades before the Cold War era. It may sur­prise you to learn that this offen­sive began even before the start of World War One, as you can see above in a British Con­ser­v­a­tive Par­ty poster from 1909.

Russian anti-Communist 1918

Rep­re­sent­ing social­ism as an ape-like demon stran­gling some sort of god­dess of “pros­per­i­ty,” this strik­ing piece of poster art sets the tone for almost all of the anti-Com­mu­nist pro­pa­gan­da to come in the wake of the Russ­ian Rev­o­lu­tion. At least since this ear­ly graph­ic sal­vo, Com­mu­nists and social­ists have gen­er­al­ly been depict­ed as ter­ri­fy­ing mon­sters. See, for exam­ple, an ear­ly, post-WWI exam­ple of Russ­ian anti-Com­mu­nist pro­pa­gan­da above, por­tray­ing the Com­mu­nist threat as an apoc­a­lyp­tic horse­man of death.

German anti-Communist 1919

Norwegian anti-Communist

As the per­ceived threat increased, so too did the scale of the mon­strous car­i­ca­tures. In the post-WWI era Ger­man and Nor­we­gian posters above, Godzil­la-sized Com­mu­nists lay waste to entire cities. Below, in “Bol­she­vism Unmasked,” an exam­ple from the Sec­ond World War, the skele­tal Com­mu­nist destroy­er strad­dles the entire globe.

Bolshevism Unmasked

Occa­sion­al­ly the racial dimen­sions of these depic­tions were explic­it. More often, they were strong­ly implied. But a 1953 Cold War exam­ple below is par­tic­u­lar­ly unsub­tle. Show­ing a scene lit­er­al­ly right out of a schlocky Para­mount hor­ror film, fea­tur­ing actress Janet Logan, the text tells us, “In case the Com­mu­nists should con­quer, our women would be help­less beneath the boots of the Asi­at­ic Rus­sians.” At the top of this rather lurid piece of agit-prop, we’re also told that “many Amer­i­can men would be ster­il­ized” should Rus­sia win the “next world war.”

If Russia Should Win

In the 50s and 60s, pop cul­ture media like film and com­ic books lent them­selves par­tic­u­lar­ly well to anti-Com­mu­nist pro­pa­gan­da, and they were exploit­ed relent­less­ly by gov­ern­ment agen­cies, pro­duc­tion com­pa­nies, and cor­po­ra­tions. Films like I Mar­ried a Com­mu­nist (below) and The Red Men­ace (top), both from 1949, offered sen­sa­tion­al­ized pulpy takes on the red scare.

I-Married-a-Communist

In these peak Cold War decades, anti-Com­mu­nist sen­ti­ment flour­ished as the U.S.’s for­mer ally the Sovi­et Union became its pri­ma­ry ene­my. Com­ic books pro­vid­ed the per­fect plat­form for the broad strokes of anti-Com­mu­nist pro­pa­gan­da. As psy­chi­a­trist Fredric Wertham waged war against the cor­rupt­ing influ­ence of com­ic books, adver­tis­ers and the gov­ern­ment found them increas­ing­ly effec­tive at spread­ing mes­sages. “If there was any enti­ty that believed in the pow­er of com­ic books to indoc­tri­nate and instruct as Wertham did,” writes Greg Beato at Rea­son, “it was the U.S. gov­ern­ment.”

Is This Tomorrow?

But pri­vate enti­ties did their share in the com­ic book war against Com­mu­nism as well. Wit­ness a par­tic­u­lar­ly wild exam­ple, Is This Tomor­row?, above. Pub­lished by the “Cat­e­chet­i­cal Guild Edu­ca­tion­al Soci­ety” in St. Paul, MN, this 1947 com­ic impli­cates gov­ern­ment reg­u­la­tion of busi­ness, social wel­fare pro­grams, anti-reli­gious sen­ti­ment, and “peo­ple giv­ing up their sil­ly ideas about ‘sacred­ness’ of life” in a fiendish­ly orches­trat­ed plot to take over Amer­i­ca. Work­ers who embrace Com­mu­nist doc­trine are lit­tle more than dupes and pawns. You can read the whole fever­ish sce­nario here.

red menace anti soviet propaganda 3

These car­toon scare tac­tics may seem out­landish, but of course we know that red scare pro­pa­gan­da had real effects on the lives and liveli­hoods of real Amer­i­cans, par­tic­u­lar­ly those in the arts and acad­e­mia. Free­think­ing, left-lean­ing cre­ative types and intel­lec­tu­als have long been tar­gets of anti-Com­mu­nist para­noia. The Amer­i­can Legion Mag­a­zine cov­er above illus­trates the fear—one still very preva­lent now—that col­lege pro­fes­sors were bent on cor­rupt­ing young, mal­leable minds. “Par­ents,” the mag­a­zine states, “can rid cam­pus­es of com­mu­nists who cloak them­selves in ‘aca­d­e­m­ic free­dom.’” At the height of the red scare, many col­lege pro­fes­sors, like Stan­ley Moore at Reed Col­lege, were dragged before the House Un-Amer­i­can Activ­i­ties Com­mit­tee and sum­mar­i­ly fired.

face-communism

More con­fi­dent, it seems, than the pro­pa­gan­da of pre­vi­ous decades, the Cold War vari­ety shrunk the Com­mu­nist threat back to human dimen­sions. But Com­mu­nists were no less mon­strous than before—only more insid­i­ous. They looked like your neigh­bors, your co-work­ers, and your chil­dren’s teacher. Instead of pur­vey­ors of brute force, they were depict­ed as devi­ous manip­u­la­tors who used ide­o­log­i­cal machi­na­tions to per­vert democ­ra­cy and crip­ple cap­i­tal­ism. As in the Amer­i­can Legion col­lege pro­fes­sor cov­er sto­ry, edu­ca­tion was often posed as the cul­tur­al bat­tle­field on which—as the heat­ed Canadair ad above states—“Communism could take the citadel from with­in” by spread­ing “doubts about the old ways” and insin­u­at­ing “ideas of athe­ism, reg­i­men­ta­tion and false ide­al­ism.”

Cold-War-Ads-After-Total-War

Post-WWII, of course, the great­est threat was not a full-scale invasion—it was total nuclear anni­hi­la­tion. It was a grim possibility—as Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove satir­i­cal­ly point­ed out—in which no one would win. Web Urban­ist points us toward one par­tic­u­lar­ly chill­ing and dis­hon­est piece of pro­pa­gan­da dis­trib­uted by the gov­ern­ment. In the poster above, we are assured that “After total war can come total liv­ing.” Unless the hap­py cou­ple is gaz­ing out over a man­i­cured sub­urb in the after­life, this scene of “total liv­ing” post-nuclear war is absurd giv­en the strat­e­gy of Mutu­al­ly Assured Destruc­tion. Nev­er­the­less, what the poster depicts is an ana­logue of the Sovi­ets’ total­i­tar­i­an ethos—it’s a future of total ide­o­log­i­cal puri­ty, in which the Earth has been cleansed of the hulk­ing mon­strous hordes of Com­mu­nism, as well as, pre­sum­ably, the cryp­to-Com­mu­nist teach­ers, artists, intel­lec­tu­als, and bureau­crats who threat­en from with­in.

via Web Urban­ist/io9/Kuriosi­tas

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How to Spot a Com­mu­nist Using Lit­er­ary Crit­i­cism: A 1955 Man­u­al from the U.S. Mil­i­tary

Sovi­et Artists Envi­sion a Com­mu­nist Utopia in Out­er Space

The Curi­ous Sto­ry of How Boot­legged Hol­ly­wood Movies Helped Defeat Com­mu­nism in Roma­nia

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Wittgenstein Day-by-Day: Facebook Page Tracks the Philosopher’s Wartime Experience 100 Years Ago

wittdaybyday

Last week we told you about an ambi­tious video series — The Great War — that will doc­u­ment how World War I unfold­ed, week-by-week, over a four-year peri­od, from 1914 to 1918. A new video will be released every Thurs­day, and it will reflect on what hap­pened dur­ing the same week 100 years pri­or. When com­plete, there should be close to 300 videos in the series.

Today, we’re stay­ing in the same time peri­od, but get­ting even more micro. Wittgen­stein Day-by-Day is a Face­book page that “tracks [Lud­wig] Wittgen­stein’s diary entries as they were writ­ten 100 years ago,” writes Levi Ash­er on his blog Lit­er­ary Kicks. Dur­ing World War I, Wittgen­stein served on the front­lines in a how­itzer reg­i­ment in Gali­cia and was dec­o­rat­ed sev­er­al times for his courage (more on that here). While fight­ing, he con­tin­ued writ­ing phi­los­o­phy — texts that would be gath­ered in Note­books, 1914–1916 – while also record­ing his expe­ri­ences in his diaries. Today’s entry on Wittgen­stein Day-by-Day reads:

Wednes­day 18th Novem­ber, 1914: In his pri­vate diary, LW reports hear­ing more thun­der from the front-line, as well as machine-gun fire and heavy artillery fire. He records feel­ing pleased that their com­man­der is again being replaced by their Lieu­tenant. He notes that he has done quite a lot of (philo­soph­i­cal) work, and is in a good mood. How­ev­er, he also notes that in his work there has been at a stand­still, as he needs a major inci­dent to move for­ward (GT2, S.22).

Con­tin­u­ing his thought from yes­ter­day, LW tells him­self that it is all sim­ply a mat­ter of the exis­tence of the log­i­cal place. ‘But what the dev­il is this “log­i­cal place”?’, he then asks him­self (NB, p.31).

You can like and fol­low Wittgen­stein Day-by-Day on Face­book. And, while you’re at it, do the same with Open Cul­ture’s FB page here.

via Lit­er­ary Kicks

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Wittgen­stein: Watch Derek Jarman’s Trib­ute to the Philoso­pher, Fea­tur­ing Til­da Swin­ton (1993)

Bertrand Rus­sell on His Stu­dent Lud­wig Wittgen­stein: Man of Genius or Mere­ly an Eccen­tric?

Pho­tog­ra­phy of Lud­wig Wittgen­stein Released by Archives at Cam­bridge

Down­load 110 Free Phi­los­o­phy eBooks: From Aris­to­tle to Niet­zsche & Wittgen­stein

The Goddess: A Classic from the Golden Age of Chinese Cinema, Starring the Silent Film Icon Ruan Lingyu (1934)

Ruan Lingyu deliv­ered one of the great­est per­for­mances in silent cin­e­ma, and yet to West­ern audi­ences, she is almost com­plete­ly unknown.

Up until the Impe­r­i­al Japan­ese Army invad­ed the city in 1937, Shang­hai was the thriv­ing, cos­mopoli­tan cul­tur­al heart of Chi­na. The first Chi­nese film was made in Shang­hai in 1905 and, for the next cou­ple of decades, cos­tumed retellings of tra­di­tion­al tales dom­i­nat­ed the indus­try. Then, in the ‘30s, film­mak­ers like Sun Yu and Cheng Bugao start­ed to make grit­ty, real­is­tic movies about the strug­gles of the low­er class. Per­haps the great­est of these films is Wu Yonggang’s 1935 mas­ter­piece The God­dess, fea­tur­ing an absolute­ly heart­break­ing per­for­mance by Ruan. You can watch it above.

On paper, the sto­ry of The God­dess could eas­i­ly be mis­tak­en for films by Josef Von Stern­berg or G.W. Pab­st – a “fall­en woman” weepie where the pro­tag­o­nist suf­fers for the sins of hyp­o­crit­i­cal soci­ety. Ruan plays the name­less lead, a beau­ti­ful, impov­er­ished woman forced to sell her body to feed and edu­cate her son. She soon falls in with The Boss, a porcine, dis­solute gang­ster who serves as her pimp. She scrapes and strug­gles to keep her son out of the same gut­ter where she finds her­self trapped. Yet, at every step, she and her son are taunt­ed and shunned. When she spends every­thing she has to put her son into a good school, the child is expelled sim­ply because the oth­er par­ents don’t approve of her. “Even though I am a degen­er­ate woman,” she begs to the school board, “don’t I have the right as a moth­er to raise him as a good boy?”

the goddess 1934

While silent film act­ing tend­ed towards the histri­on­ic, Ruan’s per­for­mance is nat­u­ral­is­tic while still hav­ing an emo­tion­al raw­ness that few actors could match. Just watch the scene where the pro­tag­o­nist is watch­ing her son per­form dur­ing a school play. Her expres­sion of unadul­ter­at­ed parental pride slow­ly cur­dles as she hears vicious whis­pers from near­by haus­fraus. Like Gre­ta Gar­bo or Mar­lene Diet­rich, Ruan has a wound­ed beau­ty that sim­ply riv­ets you to the screen.

Like many of the char­ac­ters she played, Ruan came from hum­ble begin­nings and had per­pet­u­al roman­tic trou­ble. When her com­pli­cat­ed per­son­al life became the fod­der for press, she took an over­dose of sleep­ing pills on March 8, 1935, leav­ing behind a note that read, “Gos­sip is a fear­ful thing.” She was only 24. Ruan’s funer­al pro­ces­sion was over three miles long and three women were report­ed­ly so dis­traught over her death that they com­mit­ted sui­cide. The funer­al even end­ed up on the front page of the New York Times who called it “the most spec­tac­u­lar funer­al of the cen­tu­ry.”

In 1992, Mag­gie Che­ung played Ruan for Stan­ley Kwan’s Cen­ter Stage (1992), which end­ed up win­ning a Best Actress prize at the Berlin Inter­na­tion­al Film Fes­ti­val.

The God­dess will be added to our list of Great Silent Films, part of our larg­er col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

101 Free Silent Films: The Great Clas­sics

A Page of Mad­ness: The Lost, Avant Garde Mas­ter­piece from the Ear­ly Days of Japan­ese Cin­e­ma (1926)

65 Free Char­lie Chap­lin Films Free Online

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing lots of pic­tures of vice pres­i­dents with octo­pus­es on their heads.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

A History of Ideas: Animated Videos Explain Theories of Simone de Beauvoir, Edmund Burke & Other Philosophers

The UK’s Open Uni­ver­si­ty has become a depend­able source of very short, online video intro­duc­tions to all sorts of things, from weighty sub­jects like reli­gion, eco­nom­ics, and lit­er­ary the­o­ry to lighter, but no less inter­est­ing fare like the art and sci­ence of bike design. With breezy tone and seri­ous intent, their ani­mat­ed “60-Sec­ond Adven­tures” make seem­ing­ly arcane aca­d­e­m­ic ideas acces­si­ble to laypeo­ple with no pri­or back­ground. Now they’ve teamed up with writer and BBC broad­cast­er Melvyn Bragg of In Our Time fame for a series of video shorts that run just a lit­tle over 60 sec­onds each, with ani­ma­tions by Andrew Park of Cogni+ive, and nar­ra­tion by comedic actor Har­ry Shear­er from Spinal Tap, The Simp­sons, and, most recent­ly, Nixon’s the One.

Drawn from Bragg’s BBC 4 radio pro­gram “A His­to­ry of Ideas,” the shorts intro­duce exact­ly that—each one a pré­cis of a long­stand­ing philo­soph­i­cal prob­lem like Free Will vs. Deter­min­ism (top) or the Prob­lem of Evil (above). Unlike some sim­i­lar­ly rapid out­lines, these videos—like the tie-in Bragg radio program—don’t sim­ply sketch out the issues in abstract; they draw from spe­cif­ic approach­es from fields as diverse as neu­ro­science, moral phi­los­o­phy, the­ol­o­gy, and fem­i­nist the­o­ry. In the video on free will at the top, for exam­ple, Shear­er intro­duces us to the Libet exper­i­ments, per­formed in the 1980s by neu­rol­o­gist Ben­jamin Libet to test our abil­i­ty to make vol­un­tary, con­scious deci­sions. The “Free Will Defense” video above references—at least visu­al­ly—Bertrand Russell’s noto­ri­ous teapot in its rather skep­ti­cal pre­sen­ta­tion of this the­o­log­i­cal bug­bear.

Some of the videos get even more spe­cif­ic, focus­ing in on the work of one thinker whose con­tri­bu­tions are cen­tral to our under­stand­ing of cer­tain con­cepts. Just above in “Fem­i­nine Beau­ty,” we have an intro­duc­tion to exis­ten­tial philoso­pher Simone de Beauvoir’s argu­ment that fem­i­nine beau­ty, and gen­der pre­sen­ta­tion more gen­er­al­ly, is social­ly con­struct­ed by pre­vail­ing patri­ar­chal norms—a con­cept cen­tral to the fem­i­nist work of lat­er thinkers like Judith But­ler. And below, we have the 18th cen­tu­ry con­cept of the “Sub­lime,” a sup­pos­ed­ly high­er, more threat­en­ing and inef­fa­ble aes­thet­ic mode, as dis­cussed in the work of con­ser­v­a­tive polit­i­cal philoso­pher Edmund Burke (also a sub­ject dear to Immanuel Kant, who had his own take on the idea).

See more “A His­to­ry of Ideas” short, ani­mat­ed videos—including “Diotima’s Lad­der,” “The Gold­en Ratio,” and “The Harm Prin­ci­ple”—on Youtube or the BBC Radio 4 site. The scripts for the clips, we should add, were writ­ten by Nigel War­bur­ton, whose Phi­los­o­phy Bites pod­cast you should nev­er miss.

And for much more exten­sive dis­cus­sions of these age-old philo­soph­i­cal ques­tions with real liv­ing “philoso­phers, the­olo­gians, lawyers, neu­ro­sci­en­tists, his­to­ri­ans and math­e­mati­cians,” down­load episodes of Melvyn Bragg’s “A His­to­ry of Ideas” show here or on iTunes.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

120+ Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

“Hei­deg­ger in the Kitchen”: Alain de Botton’s Video Essay Explains the Philosopher’s Con­cept of Being

8‑Bit Phi­los­o­phy: Pla­to, Sartre, Der­ri­da & Oth­er Thinkers Explained With Vin­tage Video Games

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy With­out Any Gaps – Peter Adamson’s Pod­cast Still Going Strong

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Radio David Byrne: Stream Free Music Playlists Created Every Month by the Frontman of Talking Heads

640px-David_Byrne_2009.04.24_016
Pho­to cour­tesy of LivePict.com CC-BY-SA‑3.0.

David Byrne has played many roles: front­man of Talk­ing Heads, archi­tec­tur­al observ­er, com­pos­er of opera (specif­i­cal­ly opera about Imel­da Mar­cos, for­mer first lady of the Philip­pines, the coun­try from which I write this post today), enthu­si­as­tic musi­cal col­lab­o­ra­tor, urban cycling advo­cate — and that only counts the ones he’s played here in Open Cul­ture posts. (Some­day, we’ve got to write up his love of Pow­er­point.) But did you know he’s also done a free inter­net radio show, and for near­ly a decade at that? “For one or two days a month I queue up David Byrne’s Radio Sta­tion on the web and lis­ten to his two-hour loop of new, won­der­ful, deli­cious tunes,” writes Kevin Kel­ly in a Cool Tools post from 2008, just over halfway into the life of the show so far. “Rock-star Byrne is a pro­fes­sion­al musi­cal pio­neer, admirably eclec­tic in his taste, yet astute­ly dis­crim­i­nat­ing at the same time. Over years of lis­ten­ing to all kinds of music — exper­i­men­tal, indie, inter­na­tion­al, fringe, clas­si­cal, pop — he’s heard enough to make some great rec­om­men­da­tions.”

Kel­ly cites such tan­ta­liz­ing Byrnean playlists as “Ice­landic Pop,” “Opera high­lights,” “Eclec­tic Stuff,” and “African Fusion Pop.” More recent ses­sions, which can run for three hours or longer, include “South­ern Writ­ers,” “Songs of Burt Bacharach,” and “Raga Rock.” A new playlist comes out every month. You can list to his August playlist, “Cus­tom Jack­ets, Now and Then,” a cel­e­bra­tion of women “who have been taint­ed or touched by coun­try music” includ­ing Neko Case, Emmy­lou Har­ris, Gillian Welch, and Lucin­da Williams. You can also hear a brand new Novem­ber playlist on the davidbyrne.com front page, which uses a new­er audio play­er than all the pre­vi­ous install­ments. “Viva Mex­i­co Part 1” promis­es a selec­tion of artists from that vibrant coun­try who “have found ways to incor­po­rate their Mex­i­can musi­cal her­itage and cul­ture into what might be called the glob­al pop form,” result­ing not in “imi­ta­tions of North Amer­i­can or UK alt-rock” but songs that “sound like noth­ing but them­selves.” And if you can’t trust David Byrne to know musi­cal unique­ness when he hears it, who can you trust?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

David Byrne: How Archi­tec­ture Helped Music Evolve

David Byrne: From Talk­ing Heads Front­man to Lead­ing Urban Cyclist

David Byrne’s Grad­u­a­tion Speech Offers Trou­bling and Encour­ag­ing Advice for Stu­dents in the Arts

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Charles Dickens Gave His Cat “Bob” a Second Life as a Letter Opener

dicken's cat letter opener
Image via New York Pub­lic Library

Increas­ing­ly Face­book seems a vir­tu­al pet ceme­tery, with images of recent­ly depart­ed cats and dogs but­tressed with words of heart­break and con­so­la­tion. It feels hard-heart­ed to scroll past with­out lay­ing a com­ment at each fresh­ly dug cyber-mound, even when one has no per­son­al rela­tion­ship with the deceased, or, to large degree, the own­er. The lazy man may “like” news of a beloved Airedale’s demise, but acknowl­edg­ment can­not always be said to equal respect.

And what, pray tell, is the pro­to­col after? How many min­utes should elapse before it is accept­able to post Throw­back Thurs­day shots of one’s younger, big-haired self? What if one acci­den­tal­ly sends a Far­mville noti­fi­ca­tion to the bereaved?

If only we had a Vic­to­ri­an we could ask.

Prefer­ably, Charles Dick­ens.

He went to his reward eleven years before “Poor Cher­ry,” the first dog plant­ed in Hyde Park’s small pet ceme­tery, but he was a keen observ­er of mourn­ing cus­toms.

He was also an ani­mal lover, as his daugh­ter, Mamie not­ed in My Father as I Recall Him:

On account of our birds, cats were not allowed in the house; but from a friend in Lon­don I received a present of a white kit­ten — Williami­na — and she and her numer­ous off­spring had a hap­py home at “Gad’s Hill.” … As the kit­tens grow old­er they became more and more frol­ic­some, swarm­ing up the cur­tains, play­ing about on the writ­ing table and scam­per­ing behind the book­shelves. But they were nev­er com­plained of and lived hap­pi­ly in the study until the time came for find­ing them oth­er homes. One of these kit­tens was kept, who, as he was quite deaf, was left unnamed, and became known by ser­vants as “the mas­ter’s cat,” because of his devo­tion to my father. He was always with him, and used to fol­low him about the gar­den like a dog, and sit with him while he wrote. One evening we were all, except father, going to a ball, and when we start­ed, left “the mas­ter” and his cat in the draw­ing-room togeth­er. “The mas­ter” was read­ing at a small table, on which a light­ed can­dle was placed. Sud­den­ly the can­dle went out. My father, who was much inter­est­ed in his book, relight­ed the can­dle, stroked the cat, who was look­ing at him pathet­i­cal­ly he noticed, and con­tin­ued his read­ing. A few min­utes lat­er, as the light became dim, he looked up just in time to see puss delib­er­ate­ly put out the can­dle with his paw, and then look appeal­ing­ly towards him. This sec­ond and unmis­tak­able hint was not dis­re­gard­ed, and puss was giv­en the pet­ting he craved. Father was full of this anec­dote when all met at break­fast the next morn­ing.

One anec­dote Mamie chose not to include is that when Dick­ens’ Bob, the deaf kit­ten men­tioned above, left this earth­ly plane, the mas­ter turned him into a let­ter open­er.

Well, not the whole cat, actu­al­ly. Just a sin­gle paw, which the author had stuffed and attached to an ivory blade. The blade is engraved “C.D. In Mem­o­ry of Bob 1862” which is more grave mark­er than most pussy­cats can hope for.

Should any­one ever pub­lish a His­to­ry of Charles Dick­ens in 100 Objects, count on this object to make the cut.

Still, it’s an odd­i­ty most con­tem­po­rary West­ern­ers would view with dis­taste. (But not all. The Mor­bid Anato­my Museum’s fre­quent small mam­mal taxi­dermy work­shops draw might­i­ly from the ranks of Brook­lyn hip­sters.)

I cer­tain­ly felt the need to hus­tle my then 12-year-old son past this unusu­al sou­venir when it was dis­played as part of the New York Pub­lic Library’s cozy exhib­it, Charles Dick­ens: The Key to Char­ac­ter. The kid’s an ani­mal lover who was in Oliv­er!  at the time. I feared he’d respond with Tale of Two Cities-lev­el peas­ant rage, which is accept­able, except when there’s a show that must go on.

Pre­served!, a British taxi­dermy blog spon­sored by the Arts and Human­i­ties Research Coun­cil offers a ten­der take on Dick­ens’ moti­va­tion. Over the years, he had sev­er­al ani­mals, includ­ing a pet raven, stuffed, but his close­ness with Bob called for a spe­cial approach. 19th-cen­tu­ry lit­er­a­ture schol­ar Jen­ny Pyke writes that “the taxi­der­mied cat paw stands out in its tac­tile soft­ness and emo­tion­al ten­der­ness. Most often, as pop­u­lar as it was in the nine­teenth cen­tu­ry, taxi­dermy was con­sumed visu­al­ly only, dis­played in glass cas­es or crowd­ed cab­i­nets. With Bob’s paw, Dick­ens cre­at­ed an object meant to be held dai­ly.”

It’s not for the squea­mish, but I can see how this can­ni­ly orches­trat­ed hand-hold­ing could bring ongo­ing com­fort. More than the fleet­ing con­do­lences pro­lif­er­at­ing on Face­book, any­way.

via Slate

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Charles Dick­ens’ Hand-Edit­ed Copy of His Clas­sic Hol­i­day Tale, A Christ­mas Car­ol

T.S. Eliot Reads Old Possum’s Book of Prac­ti­cal Cats & Oth­er Clas­sic Poems (75 Min­utes, 1955)

Medieval Cats Behav­ing Bad­ly: Kit­ties That Left Paw Prints … and Peed … on 15th Cen­tu­ry Man­u­scripts

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, home­school­er, and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Watch the New Trailer for the Upcoming Joan Didion Documentary, We Tell Ourselves Stories In Order to Live

It did­n’t take long, only 25 hours, for Grif­fin Dunne and Susanne Ros­tock to raise enough mon­ey on Kick­starter to com­plete a doc­u­men­tary on nov­el­ist and essay­ist Joan Did­ion. Ini­tial­ly hop­ing to raise $80,000, they’ve already received com­mit­ments exceed­ing $211,000, and they still have four days to go.

We Tell Our­selves Sto­ries In Order to Live will be the first and only doc­u­men­tary about Joan Did­ion. And it will be made with Joan, using her own words.  The trail­er for the doc­u­men­tary just pre­miered on Vogue. It’s fit­ting, see­ing that Did­ion land­ed her first job, at Vogue, after win­ning an essay con­test spon­sored by the mag­a­zine. She also pub­lished her sem­i­nal essay, ““On Self Respect” in Vogue in 1961.

You can watch the trail­er above. Also don’t miss our roundup from ear­li­er this year: 13 Mas­ter­ful Essays by Joan Did­ion Free Online

via @michikokakutani

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Watch Harvard Students Fail the Literacy Test Louisiana Used to Suppress the Black Vote in 1964

This sum­mer, we revis­it­ed a lit­er­a­cy test from the Jim Crow South. Giv­en pre­dom­i­nant­ly to African-Amer­i­cans liv­ing in Louisiana in 1964, the test con­sist­ed of 30 ambigu­ous ques­tions to be answered in 10 min­utes. One wrong answer, and the test-tak­er was denied the right to vote. It was all part of the South’s attempt to impede free and fair elec­tions, and ensure that African-Amer­i­cans had no access to pol­i­tics or mech­a­nisms of pow­er.

How hard was the test? You can take it your­self below (see an answer key here)  and find out. Just recent­ly, the same lit­er­a­cy test was also admin­is­tered to Har­vard stu­dents — stu­dents who can, if any­thing, ace a stan­dard­ized test — and not one passed. The ques­tions are tricky. But even worse, if push comes to shove, the ques­tions and answers can be inter­pret­ed in dif­fer­ent ways by offi­cials grad­ing the exam. Carl Miller, a res­i­dent tutor at Har­vard and a fel­low at the law school, told The Dai­ly Mail: “Louisiana’s lit­er­a­cy test was designed to be failed. Just like all the oth­er lit­er­a­cy tests issued in the South at the time, this test was not about test­ing lit­er­a­cy at all. It was a … devi­ous mea­sure that the State of Louisiana used to dis­en­fran­chise peo­ple that had the wrong skin tone or belonged to the wrong social class.” (Some­times the test was also giv­en to poor whites.) Above, you can watch scenes from the Har­vard exper­i­ment and stu­dents’ reac­tions.

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Fol­low us on Face­bookTwit­ter and Google Plus and share intel­li­gent media with your friends. Or bet­ter yet, sign up for our dai­ly email and get a dai­ly dose of Open Cul­ture in your inbox.

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