Search Results for "anal"

Rome Reborn: Take a Virtual Tour of Ancient Rome, Circa 320 C.E.

A few years ago, we fea­tured Rome Reborn, which is essen­tial­ly “a 3D dig­i­tal mod­el of the Eter­nal City at a time when Ancient Rome’s pop­u­la­tion had reached its peak (about one mil­lion) and the first Chris­t­ian church­es were being built.” Rome Reborn offers, declared Matthias Rasch­er, “a tru­ly stun­ning bird’s‑eye view of ancient Rome that makes you feel as if you were actu­al­ly there.” You may also remem­ber our posts on video analy­ses of great works of art by Khan Acad­e­my’s Smarthis­to­ry. Today, the two come togeth­er in the video above, “A Tour Through Ancient Rome in 320 C.E.”

In it, we not only see and move through ancient Rome recon­struct­ed, we have our extend­ed tour guid­ed by renowned “vir­tu­al archae­ol­o­gist” and over­seer of the Rome Reborn project Dr. Bernard Frisch­er, pro­fes­sor emer­i­tus at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Vir­ginia. He picks 320 C.E. as the year of the tour, “the peak of Rome’s devel­op­ment, cer­tain­ly in terms of pub­lic archi­tec­ture, for the sim­ple rea­son that the Emper­or at this time was Con­stan­tine the Great.” Short­ly after this year, Con­stan­tine would move the cap­i­tal from Rome to his city, Con­stan­tino­ple.

We hear Frisch­er in dia­logue with Dr. Steven Zuck­er, whose voice you may rec­og­nize from pre­vi­ous Smarthis­to­ry videos. Zuck­er’s ques­tions ensure that, while we take in the spec­ta­cle of Rome’s impres­sive archi­tec­ture (to say noth­ing of its equal­ly impres­sive aque­ducts) as it looked back in 320, we also think about what the real flesh-and-blood peo­ple who once lived there actu­al­ly did there: the jobs they did, the char­i­ot races they watched. “When I was study­ing ancient Rome,” admits Zuck­er, “one of the most dif­fi­cult things for me to under­stand was how all these ancient ruins fit togeth­er.” Now, with Frischer’s exper­tise, he and we can final­ly under­stand how the Forum, the Basil­i­ca, the Col­i­se­um, the Pan­theon and more all fit onto this ear­ly but still majes­tic urban fab­ric.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Cours­es in Ancient His­to­ry, Lit­er­a­ture & Phi­los­o­phy

Rome Reborn – An Amaz­ing Dig­i­tal Mod­el of Ancient Rome

How the Egypt­ian Pyra­mids Were Built: A New The­o­ry in 3D Ani­ma­tion

Vis­it Pom­peii (also Stone­henge & Ver­sailles) with Google Street View

Ani­ma­tion Gives You a Glimpse of What Life Was Like for Teenagers in Ancient Rome

The His­to­ry of Rome in 179 Pod­casts

Dis­cov­er 100 Great Works of Art with Videos Cre­at­ed by Khan Acad­e­my & Google Art Project

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture as well as the video series The City in Cin­e­ma 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.

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Heidegger’s “Black Notebooks” Suggest He Was a Serious Anti-Semite, Not Just a Naive Nazi

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Ger­man philoso­pher Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger, wide­ly con­sid­ered one of the most influ­en­tial philoso­phers of the 20th cen­tu­ry, was a Nazi, a fact known to most any­one with more than a pass­ing knowl­edge of the sub­ject. In a New York Review of Books essay, Har­vard intel­lec­tu­al his­to­ri­an Peter E. Gor­don points out that “the philosopher’s com­plic­i­ty with the Nazis first became a top­ic of con­tro­ver­sy in the pages of Les Temps mod­ernes short­ly after the war.” The issue arose again when a for­mer stu­dent of Hei­deg­ger pub­lished “a vig­or­ous denun­ci­a­tion” in 1987. In these cas­es, and others—like his pro­tégé and one­time lover Han­nah Arendt’s defense of her for­mer teacher—the scan­dal tends to “always end with the same unsur­pris­ing dis­cov­ery that Hei­deg­ger was a Nazi.”

What stirs up con­tro­ver­sy isn’t Heidegger’s mem­ber­ship in the par­ty, but his moti­va­tions. Was he sim­ply a shrewd, if craven, careerist, or a gen­uine­ly hate­ful anti-Semi­te, or a lit­tle from each col­umn? What­ev­er the expla­na­tion, Hei­deg­ge­ri­ans have been able to wall off the phi­los­o­phy from sup­posed moral or polit­i­cal laps­es in judg­ment. Arendt did so by claim­ing that Hei­deg­ger, and all of phi­los­o­phy, was polit­i­cal­ly naïve. Recalls Adam Kirsch in the Times:

The seal was set on his abso­lu­tion by Han­nah Arendt, in a birth­day address broad­cast on West Ger­man radio. Heideg­ger’s Nazism, she explained, was an “escapade,” a mis­take, which hap­pened only because the thinker naïve­ly “suc­cumbed to the temp­ta­tion … to ‘inter­vene’ in the world of human affairs.” The moral to be drawn from the Hei­deg­ger case was that “the think­ing ‘I’ is entire­ly dif­fer­ent from the self of con­scious­ness,” so that Heideg­ger’s thought can­not be con­t­a­m­i­nat­ed by the actions of the mere man.

The pub­li­ca­tion of Heidegger’s so-called “black note­books,” jour­nals that he kept assid­u­ous­ly from 1931–1941, may change all that. They show Hei­deg­ger for­mu­lat­ing a phi­los­o­phy of anti-Semitism—using the cen­tral cat­e­gories of his thought—one that oper­ates, as Michel Fou­cault might say, along “the rules of exclu­sion.”

In pub­lished excerpts of a trans­la­tion by Richard Polt, an exec­u­tive mem­ber of the Hei­deg­ger Cir­cle, Crit­i­cal The­o­ry shows how much Hei­deg­ger turned his own con­cep­tu­al appa­ra­tus against Jews. At one point, he writes:

One of the most secret forms of the gigan­tic, and per­haps the old­est, is the tena­cious skill­ful­ness in cal­cu­lat­ing, hus­tling, and inter­min­gling through which the world­less­ness of Jew­ry is ground­ed.

In this short pas­sage alone, Hei­deg­ger invokes lazy stereo­types of Jews as “cal­cu­lat­ing” and “hus­tling.” He also, more impor­tant­ly, describes the Jew­ish peo­ple as “world­less.” As Crit­i­cal The­o­ry writes, “Being-in-the-world (In-der-Welt-sein) is the basic activ­i­ty of human exist­ing. To say that the Jews are ‘world­less’… is more than a con­fused stereo­type.” It is Heidegger’s way of cast­ing Jews out of Dasein, his most impor­tant cat­e­go­ry, a word that means some­thing like “being-there” or “pres­ence.” Jews, he writes, are “his­to­ry­less” and “are not being, but mere­ly ‘cal­cu­late with being.’”

More­over, Hei­deg­ger took up the Nazi char­ac­ter­i­za­tion of Jews as cor­rupt under­min­ers of soci­ety. As rep­re­sen­ta­tives of moder­ni­ty, and its tech­no­crat­ic dom­i­na­tion of human­i­ty, the Jews threat­ened “being” in anoth­er way:

What is hap­pen­ing now is the end of the his­to­ry of the great incep­tion of Occi­den­tal human­i­ty, in which incep­tion human­i­ty was called to the guardian­ship of be-ing, only to trans­form this call­ing right away into the pre­ten­sion to re-present beings in their machi­na­tion­al unessence…

The except goes on at length in this vein, with Jew­ish “tech­no­log­i­cal machin­ery” pos­ing a threat to civ­i­liza­tion. Per­haps most shock­ing­ly, Hei­deg­ger attrib­uted Nazi con­cen­tra­tion camps to “self-destruc­tion,” com­plete­ly absolv­ing by omis­sion, and min­i­miz­ing and excus­ing, the crimes of his par­ty. An arti­cle in Ital­ian news­pa­per Cor­riere Del­la Sera doc­u­ments Heidegger’s defense of Nazism and his claim in 1942 that “the com­mu­ni­ty of Jews” is “the prin­ci­ple of destruc­tion” and that the camps were only a log­i­cal out­come of this prin­ci­ple, the “supreme ful­fill­ment of tech­nol­o­gy,” “corpse fac­to­ries.” The real vic­tims, of course, are the Ger­mans, and the Allies are guilty of ”repress­ing our will for the world.”

Hei­deg­ger intend­ed the “black note­books,” so damn­ing that sev­er­al schol­ars of Hei­deg­ger fought their pub­li­ca­tion, to be released after all of his work was pub­lished. As with all of the philosopher’s dif­fi­cult work, the note­books are often obscure; it is not always clear what he means to say. But major Hei­deg­ger schol­ars have respond­ed in a vari­ety of ways—including resign­ing a chair­ship of the Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger Soci­ety—that sug­gest the worst. Accord­ing to Dai­ly Nous, a web­site about the phi­los­o­phy pro­fes­sion, when Gün­ter Figal resigned his posi­tion in Jan­u­ary as chair of the Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger Soci­ety, he said:

As chair­man of a soci­ety, which is named after a per­son, one is in cer­tain way a rep­re­sen­ta­tive of that per­son. After read­ing the Schwarze Hefte [Black Note­books], espe­cial­ly the anti­se­mit­ic pas­sages, I do not wish to be such a rep­re­sen­ta­tive any longer. These state­ments have not only shocked me, but have turned me around to such an extent that it has become dif­fi­cult to be a co-rep­re­sen­ta­tive of this.

Whether or not this new evi­dence will cause more of his adher­ents to renounce his work remains to be seen, but the note­books, writes Peter Gor­don, will sure­ly “cast a dark shad­ow over Hei­deg­ger’s lega­cy.” A very dark shad­ow.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger Talks About Lan­guage, Being, Marx & Reli­gion in Vin­tage 1960s Inter­views

Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger Talks Phi­los­o­phy with a Bud­dhist Monk on Ger­man Tele­vi­sion (1963)

Human, All Too Human: 3‑Part Doc­u­men­tary Pro­files Niet­zsche, Hei­deg­ger & Sartre

Find cours­es on Hei­deg­ger in our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties

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

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Read Chez Foucault, the 1978 Fanzine That Introduced Students to the Radical French Philosopher

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The recent “adjunct walk out day” has remind­ed peo­ple out­side academia—at least those who paid any attention—of the decay­ing state of Amer­i­can high­er edu­ca­tion, a con­di­tion dri­ven in part by a sear­ing under­cur­rent of anti-intel­lec­tu­al­ism in U.S. polit­i­cal cul­ture. It’s a trend his­to­ri­an Richard Hof­s­tadter iden­ti­fied last cen­tu­ry in his Pulitzer Prize-win­ning 1963 study Anti-Intel­lec­tu­al­ism in Amer­i­can Life. But not long after Hofstadter’s book appeared, anoth­er, more vital cur­rent took hold in the 60s and 70s, one brought on by the broad­en­ing pos­si­bil­i­ties for those pre­vi­ous­ly denied access to elite uni­ver­si­ties, and by rec­i­p­ro­cal rela­tion­ships between rad­i­cals and schol­ars. Aca­d­e­mics like Tim­o­thy Leary became fig­ure­heads of the coun­ter­cul­ture, rev­o­lu­tion­ar­ies like Huey New­ton earned Ph.D.s, and activist pro­fes­sors like Angela Davis held the line between the worlds of high­er ed and pop­u­lar dis­sent. The uni­ver­si­ties became not only sites of stu­dent protest, but also matri­ces of rev­o­lu­tion­ary the­o­ry.

Into this foment­ing intel­lec­tu­al cul­ture stepped French the­o­rist Michel Fou­cault, who first lec­tured in the U.S. in 1975 after the pub­li­ca­tion of his His­to­ry of Sex­u­al­i­ty. Fou­cault was a true prod­uct of the French uni­ver­si­ty sys­tem and an aca­d­e­m­ic super­star of sorts, as well as a gad­fly of rev­o­lu­tion­ary move­ments from Paris in ’68, to Iran in ’79, to Berke­ley in the 80s. His work as a philoso­pher and polit­i­cal dis­si­dent prompt­ed one biog­ra­ph­er to refer to him as a “mil­i­tant intel­lec­tu­al,” though his pol­i­tics could some­times be as obscure as his prose. By 1981, he had risen to such cul­tur­al promi­nence in the States that Time mag­a­zine pub­lished a pro­file of him and his “grow­ing cult.” One of Foucault’s Amer­i­can acolytes, Sime­on Wade, befriend­ed the philoso­pher in the mid-sev­en­ties and wrote an unpub­lished, 121-page account of Foucault’s alleged 1975 LSD trip in Death Val­ley (referred to in James Miller’s The Pas­sion of Michel Fou­cault). Wade, along with a num­ber of oth­er Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia stu­dents, also inter­viewed Fou­cault the fol­low­ing year.

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In 1978, Wade pub­lished the inter­view in what may be the most pop­ulist of mediums—the fanzine. Titled Chez Fou­cault, with a ded­i­ca­tion “for Michael Stone­man,” the mimeo­graphed doc­u­ment looks on its face like a typ­i­cal hand­made self-pub­li­ca­tion from the peri­od, with its murky let­ter­ing and gen­er­al­ly hap­haz­ard design. But inside, Chez Fou­cault is far denser than any chap­book or rock ‘zine. In his pref­ace, Wade describes Chez Fou­cault as “a work­book I tin­kered togeth­er for teach­ers and stu­dents in the human­i­ties, social sci­ences and nat­ur­al sci­ences.” Accord­ing­ly, in addi­tion to the inter­view, he includes a syn­op­sis of Foucault’s Dis­course on Lan­guage, a “tran­scrip­tion” of his Dis­ci­pline and Pun­ish, a sketch of “The Ear­ly Fou­cault,” and a bib­li­og­ra­phy, glos­sary, read­ing and film list, and ver­i­ta­ble course out­line. It’s a very rich text that pro­vides a thor­ough intro­duc­tion to many of Foucault’s major works. Of prin­ci­ple inter­est, how­ev­er, is the inter­view, seem­ing­ly unpub­lished any­where else. In it, Fou­cault elab­o­rates on sev­er­al of his key con­cepts, such as the rela­tion­ship between dis­course and pow­er:

I do not want to try to find behind the dis­course some­thing which would be the pow­er and which would be the source of the dis­course […]. We start from the dis­course as it is! […] The kind of analy­sis I make does not deal with the prob­lem of the speak­ing sub­ject, but looks at the ways in which the dis­course plays a role inside the strate­gi­cal sys­tem in which the pow­er is involved, for which pow­er is work­ing. So pow­er won’t be some­thing out­side the dis­course. Pow­er won’t be some­thing like a source or the ori­gin of dis­course. Pow­er will be some­thing which is work­ing through the dis­course.

This con­cise expla­na­tion offers a key to Foucault’s method. Dis­avow­ing the labels of both philoso­pher and his­to­ri­an (he calls him­self a “jour­nal­ist”), Fou­cault defines his pro­gram as “an analy­sis of dis­course, but not with the per­spec­tive of ‘point of view.’” (If the dis­tinc­tion is con­fus­ing, a read­ing of his essay “What is an Author?” may help clar­i­fy things.) Fou­cault dis­cuss­es the biopol­i­tics of pow­er, call­ing the human body “a pro­duc­tive force,” which “exists in and through a polit­i­cal sys­tem.” He also talks about the “polit­i­cal use” of a crit­i­cal the­o­ry such as his, and the pos­si­bil­i­ty of rev­o­lu­tion­ary phi­los­o­phy:

I do not think there is such a thing as a con­ser­v­a­tive phi­los­o­phy or a rev­o­lu­tion­ary phi­los­o­phy. Rev­o­lu­tion is a polit­i­cal process; it is an eco­nom­ic process. Rev­o­lu­tion is not a philo­soph­i­cal ide­ol­o­gy. And that’s impor­tant. That’s the rea­son why some­thing like Hegelian phi­los­o­phy has been both a rev­o­lu­tion­ary ide­ol­o­gy, a rev­o­lu­tion­ary method, a rev­o­lu­tion­ary tool, but also a con­ser­v­a­tive one. Look at Niet­zsche. Niet­zsche brought forth won­der­ful ideas, or tools if you like. He was used by the Nazi Par­ty. Now a lot of Left­ist thinkers use him. So we can­not be sure if what we are say­ing is rev­o­lu­tion­ary or not.

There is much more worth read­ing in Foucault’s inter­view with Wade and his fel­low stu­dents, and stu­dents and teach­ers of Fou­cault will find all of Chez Fou­cault worth­while. You can read and down­load the entire Fou­cault ‘zine here. And lest you think it’s the only one of its kind, don’t miss Judy!, the 1993 fanzine devot­ed to philoso­pher Judith But­ler.

via Pro­gres­sive Geo­gra­phies and Mono­skop

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear Michel Fou­cault Deliv­er His Lec­ture on “Truth and Sub­jec­tiv­i­ty” at UC Berke­ley, In Eng­lish (1980)

Hear Michel Foucault’s Lec­ture “The Cul­ture of the Self,” Pre­sent­ed in Eng­lish at UC Berke­ley (1983)

Michel Fou­cault – Beyond Good and Evil: 1993 Doc­u­men­tary Explores the Theorist’s Con­tro­ver­sial Life and Phi­los­o­phy

Watch a “Lost Inter­view” With Michel Fou­cault: Miss­ing for 30 Years But Now Recov­ered

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

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Dostoyevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov Strikingly Illustrated by Expressionist Painter Alice Neel (1938)

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Images belong to The Estate of Alice Neel.

We all know the rep­u­ta­tion of 19th-cen­tu­ry Russ­ian nov­els: long, dense bricks of pure prose, freight­ed with deep moral con­cerns and, to the unini­ti­at­ed, enlivened only by a con­fus­ing far­ra­go of patronymics. And sure, while they may have a bit of a learn­ing curve to them, these clas­sic works of lit­er­a­ture also, so their advo­cates assure us, boast plen­ty to keep them rel­e­vant today — just the qual­i­ty, of course, that makes them clas­sic works of lit­er­a­ture in the first place.

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While we should by all means read them, that does­n’t mean we can’t get a taste of these much-dis­cussed books before we heft them and turn to page one by, for exam­ple, check­ing out their illus­tra­tions. These vary in qual­i­ty with the edi­tions, of course, but how much of the art that has ever accom­pa­nied, say, Fyo­dor Dos­toyevsky’s The Broth­ers Kara­ma­zov has looked quite as evoca­tive as the nev­er-pub­lished illus­tra­tions here? They come from the hand of the Penn­syl­va­nia-born artist Alice Neel, com­mis­sioned in the 1930s for an edi­tion of the nov­el that nev­er saw the print­ing press.

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The Paris Review’s Dan Piepen­berg, post­ing eight of Neel’s illus­tra­tions, high­lights “how attuned these two sen­si­bil­i­ties are: it’s the mar­riage of one kind of dark­ness to anoth­er”; “the black storm cloud of Neel’s pen is well suit­ed to Dostoyevsky’s ques­tions of God, rea­son, and doubt.” And yet Neel also man­ages to express the nov­el­’s “mad­ness and com­e­dy,” bring­ing “a man­ic bathos to these scenes that lends them both grav­i­ty and lev­i­ty; in every wide, glassy pair of eyes, grave ques­tions of moral cer­ti­tude are under­cut by the absurd.”

You can see all of eight of Neel’s Kara­ma­zov illus­tra­tions at The Paris Review, not that they pro­vide a sub­sti­tute for read­ing the nov­el itself (which you can find in our col­lec­tion of Free eBooks). After all, that’s the only way to find out what exact­ly hap­pens at that bac­cha­nal just above.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Fyo­dor Dos­to­evsky Draws Elab­o­rate Doo­dles In His Man­u­scripts

Albert Camus Talks About Adapt­ing Dos­toyevsky for the The­atre, 1959

Crime and Pun­ish­ment by Fyo­dor Dos­toyevsky Told in a Beau­ti­ful­ly Ani­mat­ed Film by Piotr Dumala

The Dig­i­tal Dos­to­evsky: Down­load Free eBooks & Audio Books of the Russ­ian Novelist’s Major Works

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture as well as the video series The City in Cin­e­ma 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.

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George Orwell Creates a Who’s Who List of “Crypto” Communists for British Intelligence Forces (1949)

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Jour­nal­ist and nov­el­ist Eric Blair, known for all of his pro­fes­sion­al life by the pen name George Orwell, staunch­ly iden­ti­fied him­self as a demo­c­ra­t­ic social­ist. For exam­ple, in his slim 1946 pub­li­ca­tion Why I Write, he declared, “Every line of seri­ous work I have writ­ten since 1936 has been writ­ten, direct­ly or indi­rect­ly, against total­i­tar­i­an­ism and for demo­c­ra­t­ic social­ism as I under­stand it.” Despite the wide­spread blur­ring of lines these days between social­ism and communism—whether through igno­rance or delib­er­ate misleading—the dis­tinc­tion was not lost on Orwell. Though he sup­port­ed an equi­table dis­tri­b­u­tion of wealth and pub­lic insti­tu­tions for the com­mon good, he fierce­ly opposed Sovi­et com­mu­nism as anti-demo­c­ra­t­ic and oppres­sive. As Orwell biog­ra­ph­er John Newsinger writes, one “cru­cial dimen­sion to Orwell’s social­ism was his recog­ni­tion that the Sovi­et Union was not social­ist. Unlike many on the left, instead of aban­don­ing social­ism once he dis­cov­ered the full hor­ror of Stal­in­ist rule in the Sovi­et Union, Orwell aban­doned the Sovi­et Union and instead remained a social­ist.”

Of course, Orwell’s anti-com­mu­nist sen­ti­ments are famil­iar to every stu­dent who has read Ani­mal Farm. Less well known is the degree to which he con­tributed to anti-com­mu­nist pro­pa­gan­da, even cor­re­spond­ing with British secret ser­vices and keep­ing a black­list of writ­ers he deemed either “cryp­tos” (secret com­mu­nists), “fel­low trav­ellers” (com­mu­nist sym­pa­thiz­ers), or out­right mem­bers of the Com­mu­nist Par­ty. Orwell’s involve­ment with the Infor­ma­tion Research Depart­ment (IRD), a pro­pa­gan­da unit formed in 1948 under the UK’s For­eign Office to com­bat Stal­in­ism at home and abroad has received a good deal of atten­tion in the past few decades, in part because of the dis­cov­ery in 2003 of a pri­vate note­book con­tain­ing his orig­i­nal list. Even before this rev­e­la­tion, biog­ra­phers and his­to­ri­ans had known about the list, which Orwell includ­ed, in part, in a let­ter to his love inter­est Celia Kir­wan, who worked for the IRD, with the instruc­tions that she keep it secret due to its “libelous” nature. Orwell intend­ed that the writ­ers on the list not be asked to work for the IRD because, in his esti­ma­tion, they were peo­ple who could not be trust­ed.

Reac­tions to Orwell’s list have been very mixed. When the sto­ry first broke in the late nineties, Orwell’s long­time friend Michael Foot said he found the list “amaz­ing” and out of char­ac­ter. One of the peo­ple named, Nor­man Macken­zie, ascribed the list to Orwell’s ill­ness, say­ing that the writer was “los­ing his grip on him­self” in 1949 dur­ing his final strug­gle with the tuber­cu­lo­sis that killed him that year. Orwell biog­ra­ph­er Bernard Crick defend­ed his actions, writ­ing, “He did it because he thought the Com­mu­nist Par­ty was a total­i­tar­i­an men­ace. He wasn’t denounc­ing these peo­ple as sub­ver­sives. He was denounc­ing them as unsuit­able for counter-intel­li­gence oper­a­tion.” On the oth­er hand, late left­ist fire­brand jour­nal­ist Alexan­der Cock­burn con­demned Orwell as a “snitch” and thought the list was evi­dence of Orwell’s big­otry, giv­en his sus­pi­cion of Paul Robe­son as “anti-white” and his denounc­ing of oth­ers due to their rumored homo­sex­u­al­i­ty or Jew­ish back­ground. He makes a com­pelling case. What­ev­er Orwell’s moti­va­tions, the effect on the named indi­vid­u­als’ pro­fes­sion­al and polit­i­cal lives was mild, to say the least. This was hard­ly a McCarthyite witch-hunt. Nonethe­less, it’s a lit­tle hard for admir­ers of Orwell not to wince at this col­lab­o­ra­tion with the state secret ser­vice.

Below, see the list he sub­mit­ted to Kir­wan in his let­ter. Fur­ther down is a list of names, includ­ing those of Orson Welles and Kather­ine Hep­burn, that appeared in his note­book but not on the list he gave to the IRD.

Writ­ers and jour­nal­ists

Aca­d­e­mics and sci­en­tists

Actors

Labour MPs

Oth­ers

Peo­ple named in Orwell’s note­book, but not appear­ing on the final IRD list:

Relat­ed Con­tent:

George Orwell Explains in a Reveal­ing 1944 Let­ter Why He’d Write 1984

George Orwell Reviews Mein Kampf (1940)

George Orwell’s Five Great­est Essays (as Select­ed by Pulitzer-Prize Win­ning Colum­nist Michael Hiltzik)

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

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Michel Gondry’s Finest Music Videos for Björk, Radiohead & More: The Last of the Music Video Gods

We didn’t real­ize it at the time, but Michel Gondry was one of the last great music video direc­tors, cre­at­ing mini-epics just before the music indus­try col­lapsed, bud­gets dis­ap­peared, and now your cousin with a Canon 7D is fol­low­ing his friend’s band around in a field and putting *that* up on Vimeo. Maybe Gondry too saw the writ­ing on the wall, because, by the begin­ning of the ‘aughts, he was inch­ing his way into Hol­ly­wood, first with Human Nature and then strik­ing pay­dirt with the Char­lie Kauf­man-script­ed Eter­nal Sun­shine of the Spot­less Mind, one of the best French films ever made that wasn’t French (apart from the direc­tor).

But in the twi­light of music videos, Gondry’s best work com­bined new tech­nol­o­gy with the home­made, DIY aes­thet­ic. His inter­est in frac­tals, math­e­mat­ics, and log­i­cal para­dox­es and loops went into the mix. As did his inter­est in the machin­ery and arti­fice of movie mak­ing. And as did his roman­tic, auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal side. What fol­lows is a small selec­tion of some of his best, most com­plex music videos.

Gondry direct­ed sev­er­al videos for Björk, start­ing with “Human Behav­ior,” her first solo sin­gle, but 1997’s “Bach­e­lorette” (top) goes beyond play­ful into heart­break­ing. A riff on an infi­nite­ly recur­sive poem, a sto­ry that is about the telling of itself, the video finds Björk dis­cov­er­ing a book in the woods that begins to write itself. As she finds a pub­lish­er, gains suc­cess, and sees the book turned into a musi­cal, the sto­ry is told again, and then again, a play with­in a play with­in a play. But each ver­sion is ana­log, not dig­i­tal, and los­es some­thing in the process, and the for­est creeps back in to claim its work.

Sim­i­lar­ly, in this video for The Chem­i­cal Broth­ers’ song “Let For­ev­er Be” (1999) Gondry sets up two worlds, one on dig­i­tal video, where our hero­ine attempts to wake up and go to work at a depart­ment store; and anoth­er shot on film, where the girl’s numer­ous dop­pel­gängers par­o­dy her strug­gle and her grip on san­i­ty through chore­o­graphed dance num­bers. This illus­trates a famil­iar Gondry equa­tion: If A and B, then A+B equals freak­out mad­ness time. The col­or­bars of video pro­duc­tion loom near­by to fur­ther the idea of irre­al­i­ty, and a cheesy VideoToast­er-style effect res­cues us at the end.

As far as we know, Radiohead’s “Knives Out” (2001) has noth­ing to do with hos­pi­tals, but Gondry took this can­ni­bal­is­tic song and made one of his most per­son­al videos. Here Thom Yorke stands in for the direc­tor, as Gondry offers a mea cul­pa about a rela­tion­ship that went past its expi­ra­tion date, when his girl­friend devel­oped an ill­ness and he couldn’t bear to break up with her. All of that is laid out, in sad, fever-dream detail, in this sin­gle-take video that fea­tures a lot of his obses­sions: toys, tele­vi­sion, loops, and a shuf­fling of sym­bols and motifs. Look for Gondry’s son briefly play­ing on the floor.

And final­ly:

Not to go out with a sour note, here’s Gondry’s adven­tur­ous 1994 video for the swal­lowed-by-his­to­ry Lucas. “Lucas with the Lid Off” is one of Gondry’s first one-take mas­ter­pieces that shows how the mag­ic is made while still being mag­i­cal. (The cur­rent kings of sin­gle-take music videos, OK Go, owe their suc­cess to Gondry.) It’s also a video that tries to give each sam­pled loop its own ele­ment with­in the video, look­ing for­ward to his work for Daft Punk (“Around the World”) and The Chem­i­cal Broth­ers (“Star Gui­tar”).

Gondry con­tin­ues to make videos–he made one last year for Metronomy’s “Love Let­ters,” but his atten­tion is real­ly else­where. Enjoy these gems from his clas­sic era.

Note: Gondry’s 1988 short ani­mat­ed film, Jazzmos­phere, an explo­ration of jazz and images, has been added to our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

Ted Mills is a free­lance writer on the arts who cur­rent­ly hosts the FunkZone Pod­cast. You can also fol­low him on Twit­ter at @tedmills and/or watch his films here.

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What’s the Big Deal About Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel? Matt Zoller Seitz’s Video Essay Explains

Toward the end of 2013, we fea­tured a series of video essays by Matt Zoller Seitz on the films of Wes Ander­son. They first came out to accom­pa­ny The Wes Ander­son Col­lec­tion, the crit­ic’s cof­fee-table ret­ro­spec­tive of that auteur of whim­si­cal hand­craft­ed films’ career to date — to the date of late 2013, any­way. Even then, fans had already geared them­selves up in antic­i­pa­tion of the then-immi­nent release of The Grand Budapest Hotel, Ander­son­’s eighth and lat­est pic­ture, which at the moment has resur­faced in awards-sea­son buzz.

The dimin­ish­ing num­ber of you who have proven still imper­vi­ous to Ander­son­’s pecu­liar brand of movie mag­ic might, actu­al­ly, feel you’ve heard a bit too much about The Grand Budapest Hotel over the past year or so. What, pray tell, is the big deal? Here to answer that ques­tion, we have Zoller Seitz’s brand new video essay on Ander­son­’s tale of that tit­u­lar once-grand moun­tain hotel and the 20th-cen­tu­ry Europe of the imag­i­na­tion (even­tu­al­ly giv­ing way to the 20th-cen­tu­ry Europe of his­to­ry) that swirls around and through it.

“All of Wes Ander­son­’s films are come­dies,” says Zoller Seitz, “and none are.” Through­out the fol­low­ing fif­teen min­utes, he ana­lyzes exact­ly how, with The Grand Budapest Hotel, Ander­son climbs to the top of both of his per­son­al twin peaks of friv­o­li­ty and seri­ous­ness — or seri­ous­ness expressed through friv­o­li­ty, or vice ver­sa. In the direc­tor’s “most struc­tural­ly ambi­tious film,” we see not just lay­ers of com­e­dy and melan­choly but of his­to­ry, lit­er­a­ture, artistry, and anx­i­ety, all tied in with the Ander­son­ian char­ac­ters’ end­less quest to mas­ter their own sense of loss by mas­ter­ing the world around them — which Ander­son shows us, to a fuller extent in The Grand Budapest Hotel, than in any of his live-action movies before, with his own mas­tery of the world he and his col­lab­o­ra­tors cre­ate.

For anoth­er look into what this requires in film­mak­ing terms, see also “Here’s How Wes Ander­son Uses Mat­te Paint­ings in His Incred­i­ble Set Designs” by The Cre­ators Pro­jec­t’s Beck­ett Muf­son. That inter­view with Grand Budapest Hotel mat­te painter Simone de Sal­va­tore reveals, by look­ing at just one aspect of the whole, how much goes into the design of a Wes Ander­son pro­duc­tion. View­ers who love Ander­son­’s pic­tures, of course, love them in large part for exact­ly that, and even view­ers who hate them have to con­cede their impec­ca­bil­i­ty on that count. Both groups now have only to wait for this Sun­day to see how the Acad­e­my feels about it.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Per­fect Sym­me­try of Wes Anderson’s Movies

A Glimpse Into How Wes Ander­son Cre­ative­ly Remixes/Recycles Scenes in His Dif­fer­ent Films

Watch Wes Anderson’s Charm­ing New Short Film, Castel­lo Cav­al­can­ti, Star­ring Jason Schwartz­man

Wes Anderson’s First Short Film: The Black-and-White, Jazz-Scored Bot­tle Rock­et (1992)

Watch 7 New Video Essays on Wes Anderson’s Films: Rush­more, The Roy­al Tenen­baums & More

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture as well as the video series The City in Cin­e­ma 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.

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How Martin Luther King, Jr. Used Nietzsche, Hegel & Kant to Overturn Segregation in America

577px-Martin_Luther_King_Jr_NYWTS_6

Image by Dick DeMar­si­co, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

The influ­ence of Georg Wil­helm Friedrich Hegel on the rev­o­lu­tion­ary phi­los­o­phy of Karl Marx and Fred­erich Engels is well known. Marx wrote a cri­tique of Hegel’s Phi­los­o­phy of Right and claimed to have turned the Ger­man ide­al­ist philoso­pher on his head, and the devel­op­ment of Marx­ist the­o­ry among a school of neo-Hegelians, wrote Rebec­ca Coop­er in 1925, occurred in a peri­od “pecu­liar­ly aus­pi­cious for the birth of a rev­o­lu­tion­ary social phi­los­o­phy.”

A cen­tu­ry lat­er, on anoth­er con­ti­nent, Hegel’s thought influ­enced the course of a very dif­fer­ent strug­gle. And while the his­tor­i­cal con­di­tions of mid-nine­teenth cen­tu­ry Europe and mid-twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry Amer­i­ca present entire­ly dif­fer­ent sets of spe­cif­ic con­cerns, the same gen­er­al obser­va­tion applies: the time and place of such rad­i­cal thinkers as Mal­colm X, Angela Davis, Huey New­ton and a host of oth­er activists pre­sent­ed “pecu­liar­ly aus­pi­cious” cir­cum­stances for rev­o­lu­tion­ary social phi­los­o­phy.

But while these fig­ures appear today as the van­guard of rad­i­cal black thought, Mar­tin Luther King, Jr., the most wide­ly cel­e­brat­ed of Civ­il Rights lead­ers, “is often con­flat­ed with neolib­er­al mul­ti­cul­tur­al­ism,” writes Crit­i­cal The­o­ry, his pro­gram asso­ci­at­ed with “the fail­ure of the civ­il rights move­ment to dis­man­tle the ongo­ing sys­temic white suprema­cy of the sta­tus quo.” And yet, King’s move­ment not only suc­ceed­ed in end­ing legal seg­re­ga­tion and has­ten­ing the pass­ing of the Civ­il Rights Act; it also pro­vid­ed direc­tion for near­ly every non­vi­o­lent social move­ment from his day to ours. King’s lega­cy is not only that of an inspir­ing orga­niz­er and ora­tor, but also of a rad­i­cal thinker who engaged crit­i­cal­ly with phi­los­o­phy and social the­o­ry and brought it to bear on his activism.

We are gen­er­al­ly well aware of King’s debt to Gand­hi and the Satya­gra­ha move­ment that won Indi­an inde­pen­dence in 1947, yet we know lit­tle of his debt to the same thinker who inspired Marx and his contemporaries—G.W.F. Hegel. As philoso­pher and “Ethi­cist for Hire” Nolen Gertz has recent­ly demon­strat­ed on his blog, King was high­ly influ­enced by Hegelian­ism, as much as, or per­haps even more so, than he was by Gand­hi’s move­ment. Marx may have turned Hegel’s sys­tem on its head, but King, writes Gertz, “fought White Amer­i­ca… by turn­ing the ideas of dead white men against the oppres­sive prac­tices of liv­ing white men.”

King Hegel Notes

King read and wrote on Hegel as a grad­u­ate stu­dent at Boston Uni­ver­si­ty and Har­vard in the mid-50s, where he stud­ied the­ol­o­gy and the his­to­ry of phi­los­o­phy and reli­gion. He took a year­long sem­i­nar on Hegel with his advi­sor at BU, Edgar Bright­man (see King’s dia­gram notes of Hegel’s sys­tem above), and found a great deal to admire in the “dead white” philosopher’s log­i­cal sys­tem, as well as a good deal to cri­tique. The two-semes­ter class, King wrote in his auto­bi­og­ra­phy, was “both reward­ing and stim­u­lat­ing”:

Although the course was main­ly a study of Hegel’s mon­u­men­tal work, Phe­nom­e­nol­o­gy of Mind, I spent my spare time read­ing his Phi­los­o­phy of His­to­ry and Phi­los­o­phy of Right. There were points in Hegel’s phi­los­o­phy that I strong­ly dis­agreed with. For instance, his absolute ide­al­ism was ratio­nal­ly unsound to me because it tend­ed to swal­low up the many in the one. But there were oth­er aspects of his think­ing that I found stim­u­lat­ing. His con­tention that “truth is the whole” led me to a philo­soph­i­cal method of ratio­nal coher­ence. His analy­sis of the dialec­ti­cal process, in spite of its short­com­ings, helped me to see that growth comes through strug­gle.

While King may have dis­agreed with Hegel’s ide­al­ism, he found sup­port for his own phi­los­o­phy of non­vi­o­lence in Hegel’s dialec­ti­cal method, a mode of analy­sis that seems par­tic­u­lar­ly well suit­ed to social­ly rev­o­lu­tion­ary thought. In Stride Toward Free­dom, King wrote,

The third way open to oppressed peo­ple in their quest for free­dom is the way of non­vi­o­lent resis­tance. Like the syn­the­sis in Hegelian phi­los­o­phy, the prin­ci­ple of non­vi­o­lent resis­tance seeks to rec­on­cile the truths of two opposites—acquiescence and violence—while avoid­ing the extremes and immoral­i­ties of both.

King’s crit­i­cal appraisal of Hegel extend­ed to oth­er rad­i­cal philo­soph­i­cal thinkers as well, includ­ing Kant, Spin­oza, Kierkegaard, Marx, and Niet­zsche. Gertz offers many sam­ples of the bud­ding civ­il rights leader’s notes on var­i­ous thinkers and philoso­phies, includ­ing the first para­graph of an essay enti­tled “Pil­grim­age to Non­vi­o­lence” (below), in which King con­fess­es that his encounter with Exis­ten­tial­ism often “shocked” him, espe­cial­ly since he had “been raised in a rather strict fun­da­men­tal­ist tra­di­tion.” And yet, he writes—in an allu­sion to Kant’s reac­tion to David Hume—he acquired “a new appre­ci­a­tion for objec­tive appraisal and crit­i­cal analy­sis” that “knocked me out of my dog­mat­ic slum­ber.”

Pilgrimmage to nonviolence

In the essay, King writes, “I became con­vinced that exis­ten­tial­ism, in spite of the fact that it had become all too fash­ion­able, had grasped cer­tain basic truths about man.” He seems par­tic­u­lar­ly drawn to Kierkegaard (see his notes on the philoso­pher below). Yet it is Hegel who seems most respon­si­ble for awak­en­ing his philo­soph­i­cal curios­i­ty. As King schol­ar John Ans­bro dis­cov­ered, King “stat­ed in a Jan­u­ary 19, 1956 inter­view with The Mont­gomery Advis­er that Hegel was his favorite philoso­pher.” Lat­er that year, King gave an address to the First Annu­al Insti­tute on Non­vi­o­lence and Social Change in which he used Hegelian terms to char­ac­ter­ize the Civ­il Rights strug­gle: “Long ago, the Greek philoso­pher Her­a­cli­tus argued that jus­tice emerges from the strife of oppo­sites, and Hegel, in mod­ern phi­los­o­phy, preached a doc­trine of growth through strug­gle.”

King Kierkegaard

Inde­pen­dent schol­ar Ralph Dumain has fur­ther cat­a­logued King’s many approv­ing ref­er­ences to Hegel, includ­ing a paper he wrote enti­tled “An Expo­si­tion of the First Tri­ad of Cat­e­gories of the Hegelian Logic—Being, Non-Being, Becom­ing,” the “last of six essays that King wrote” for his two-semes­ter course on the philoso­pher. King also approached Hegel by way of an ear­li­er Civ­il Rights leader—W.E.B. Dubois, who read the Ger­man philoso­pher while study­ing with promi­nent social sci­en­tists in Berlin, and who applied Hegelian log­ic to his own analy­sis of racial con­scious­ness and strug­gle in Amer­i­ca.

Inter­est­ing­ly, what nei­ther King nor Dubois remarked on is the fact that Hegel was like­ly him­self inspired by black rev­o­lu­tion­ar­ies. The Hait­ian Rev­o­lu­tion, argues schol­ar Susan Buck-Morss, gave Hegel the impe­tus for his analy­sis of pow­er and his “metaphor of the ‘strug­gle to death’ between the mas­ter and slave, which for Hegel pro­vid­ed the key to the unfold­ing of free­dom in world his­to­ry.” While Hegel’s thought is a philo­soph­i­cal thread that winds through the work of rad­i­cal thinkers through­out the nine­teenth and twen­ti­eth cen­turies, his own phi­los­o­phy may not have tak­en the direc­tion it did with­out the rev­o­lu­tion­ary strug­gles against oppres­sion waged by for­mer slaves in the New World cen­turies before King led his non­vi­o­lent war on the oppres­sive sys­tem of seg­re­ga­tion in the Unit­ed States.

H/T Nolen Gertz

Relat­ed Con­tent:

‘You Are Done’: The Chill­ing “Sui­cide Let­ter” Sent to Mar­tin Luther King by the F.B.I.

200,000 Mar­tin Luther King Papers Go Online

Down­load 130 Free Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es: Tools for Think­ing About Life, Death & Every­thing Between

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

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Joni Mitchell’s Application for a Tenure Track Philosophy Position

joni philosophy

Image by Asy­lum Records (Bill­board page 2) [Pub­lic domain], via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

Michael Stipe has a teach­ing gig at NYU. Lyn­da Bar­ry has one at UW-Madi­son. Sun Ra gave a clas­sic lec­ture at UC-Berke­ley. So why can’t we imag­ine Joni Mitchell land­ing a job at a uni­ver­si­ty too? That’s what Jedidi­ah Ander­son did, when he wrote a satir­i­cal piece over at McSweeney’s called “Joni Mitchell Applies for a Tenure Track Phi­los­o­phy Posi­tion.” It begins:

Dear Search Com­mit­tee:

I am apply­ing for the posi­tion of Assis­tant Pro­fes­sor in Phi­los­o­phy. I am an advanced doc­tor­al can­di­date in Phi­los­o­phy (with minors in Urban Stud­ies and Eng­lish), and expect to defend my dis­ser­ta­tion in May, 2015.

My dis­ser­ta­tion, Both Sides Now applies a bilat­er­al, hylo­mor­phic analy­sis to the phe­nom­e­non that is described by the sig­ni­fi­er “clouds.” Hav­ing been con­sti­tut­ed in West­ern dis­course both pos­i­tive­ly as “rows and flows of angel hair,” “ice cream cas­tles in the air,” “feath­er canyons every­where,” and neg­a­tive­ly as objects that exist sole­ly to obscure the sun, express rain and snow, and hin­der the achieve­ment of var­i­ous goals, we can con­clude that after the appli­ca­tion of this bilat­er­al, hylo­mor­phic analy­sis that due to these con­tra­dic­to­ry “up” and “down” epis­te­molo­gies of cloud tropes, the real­i­ty of clouds is some­how still under­stud­ied, hav­ing been ignored in favor of their Pla­ton­ic form/sign, and that we real­ly don’t “know” clouds at all.

You can read the rest of her “appli­ca­tion” here and then spend the evening dream­ing about tak­ing Joni’s class­es on Pla­to, Exis­ten­tial­ism, and Urban Devel­op­ment. I know I will.

You can find more great Joni Mitchell mate­r­i­al below.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Vin­tage Video of Joni Mitchell Per­form­ing in 1965 — Before She Was Even Named Joni Mitchell

James Tay­lor and Joni Mitchell, Live and Togeth­er (1970)

The Music, Art, and Life of Joni Mitchell Pre­sent­ed in a Superb 2003 Doc­u­men­tary

Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es

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Junot Díaz’s Syllabi for His MIT Writing Classes, and the Novels on His Reading List

We can prob­a­bly all agree that it’s a lit­tle pre­ma­ture, but all the same, the BBC has bar­reled ahead with its list of “The 21st Century’s 12 great­est nov­els.” Top­ping the list of excel­lent, if not espe­cial­ly sur­pris­ing, picks is The Brief Won­drous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Díaz’s Pulitzer Prize-win­ning debut nov­el about, as he puts it in the inter­view above, “a clos­et­ed nerd writ­ing about an absolute­ly out nerd, and using their shared mutu­al lan­guage to tell the sto­ry.” The book has con­nect­ed with such a wide swath of read­ers for more than its appeal to fel­low nerds, though that’s no small thing. A great many read­ers have seen their own lives reflect­ed in Díaz’s characters—Dominican immi­grants grow­ing up in New Jersey—or have found their expe­ri­ences illu­mi­nat­ing. And even though Yunior and Oscar’s very male point of view might have alien­at­ed female read­ers in the hands of a less­er author, Díaz has the sen­si­tiv­i­ty and self-aware­ness to—as Joe Fassler argues in The Atlantic—write sex­ist char­ac­ters, but not sex­ist books. As the author him­self says above, “if it wasn’t for women read­ers, I wouldn’t have a career.”

Díaz’s ear for dia­logue and idiom and his facil­i­ty for con­struct­ing com­plete­ly believ­able char­ac­ters with com­plete­ly dis­tinc­tive voic­es are matched by his com­mit­ment to rep­re­sent­ing the expe­ri­ences of peo­ple who still get rou­tine­ly left out of the con­tem­po­rary canon. Despite the atten­tion giv­en to such stel­lar non-white, non-male writ­ers as Toni Mor­ri­son, Max­ine Hong-Kingston, Arund­hati Roy, and Jamaica Kin­caid, most MFA pro­grams, Diaz argued in a recent essay for The New York­er, are still “too white,” repro­duc­ing “exact­ly the dom­i­nant culture’s blind spots and assump­tions around race and racism (and sex­ism and het­ero­nor­ma­tiv­i­ty, etc).” In his own MFA work­shop expe­ri­ences at Cor­nell, he found that “the default sub­ject posi­tion of read­ing and writing—of Lit­er­a­ture with a cap­i­tal L—was white, straight and male.”

The prob­lem is more than just per­son­al, though he cer­tain­ly found the expe­ri­ence per­son­al­ly alien­at­ing, and it isn’t a mat­ter of redress­ing his­tor­i­cal wrongs or enforc­ing an abstract PC notion of diver­si­ty. Instead, as Díaz told Salon, it’s a prob­lem of accu­rate­ly rep­re­sent­ing real­i­ty. “If race or gen­der (or any oth­er impor­tant social force) are not part of your inter­pre­tive logic—if they’re not part of what you con­sid­er the real—then you’re leav­ing out most of what has made our world our world.” In his own role at a pro­fes­sor at MIT, teach­ing under­grad­u­ate writ­ing cours­es for the Com­par­a­tive Media Studies/Writing Depart­ment, Díaz is very thought­ful about his approach, empha­siz­ing, “it’s not the books you teach, but how you teach them.” In addi­tion to nov­els by authors like Hait­ian-born Edwidge Dan­ti­cat and Zim­bab­wean author NoVi­o­let Bul­awayo, he has his stu­dents read “clas­sic Goth­ic texts which are them­selves not very diverse by our stan­dards,” but, he says, “the crit­i­cal lens I deploy helps my stu­dents under­stand how issues of race, gen­der, colo­nial­i­ty etc. are nev­er far.”

Salon tracked down the syl­labi and read­ing lists for two of Díaz’s MIT cours­es, “World-Build­ing” and “Advanced Fic­tion.” We do find one clas­sic Goth­ic text—Bram Stok­er’s Drac­u­la—and also much of what we might expect from the self-con­fessed nerd, includ­ing work from such well-regard­ed com­ic writ­ers as Frank Miller and Alan Moore and clas­sic sci-fi from Tarzan cre­ator Edgar Rice Bur­roughs. In addi­tion to these white, male writ­ers, we have fic­tion from African-Amer­i­can sci-fi authors Octavia But­ler and N.K. Jemisin. Díaz’s “Advanced Fic­tion” list is even more wide-rang­ing, inclu­sive of writ­ers from Chile, Zim­bab­we, Chi­na, and Haiti, as well as the U.S. See both lists below.

World-Build­ing:

Descrip­tion: “This class con­cerns the design and analy­sis of imag­i­nary (or con­struct­ed) worlds for nar­ra­tive media such as role­play­ing games, films, comics, videogames and lit­er­ary texts. … The class’ pri­ma­ry goal is to help par­tic­i­pants cre­ate bet­ter imag­i­nary worlds – ulti­mate­ly all our efforts should serve that high­er pur­pose.”

Pre­req­ui­sites: “You will need to have seen Star Wars (episode four: A New Hope) and read The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien.”

Read­ing List:

“A Princess of Mars” by ER Bur­roughs
“Drac­u­la” by Bram Stok­er
“Bat­man: The Dark Knight Returns” by Frank Miller
“Sun­shine” by Robin McKin­ley
“V for Vendet­ta” by Alan Moore
“The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins
“The Hun­dred Thou­sand King­doms” by NK Jemisin
“Lilith’s Brood” by Octavia But­ler
“Per­di­do Street Sta­tion” by Chi­na Miéville
“Snow Crash” by Neal Stephen­son (Rec­om­mend­ed)

Some things to con­sid­er always when tak­ing on a new world: What are its pri­ma­ry features—spatial, cul­tur­al, bio­log­i­cal, fan­tas­tic, cos­mo­log­i­cal? What is the world’s ethos (the guid­ing beliefs or ideals that char­ac­ter­ize the world)? What are the pre­cise strate­gies that are used by its cre­ator to con­vey the world to us and us to the world? How are our char­ac­ters con­nect­ed to the world? And how are we the view­er or read­er or play­er con­nect­ed to the world?

Advanced Fic­tion

Descrip­tion: “An advanced work­shop on the writ­ing and cri­tiquing of prose.”

Read­ing List:

“Clara” by Rober­to Bolaño
“Hit­ting Budapest” by NoVi­o­let Bul­awayo
“Whites” by Julie Otsu­ka
“Ghosts” by Edwidge Dan­ti­cat
“My Good Man” by Eric Gansworth
“Gold Boy, Emer­ald Girl” by Yiyun Li
“Boun­ty” by George Saun­ders

For more from Díaz him­self on his approach to writ­ing fic­tion, lis­ten to his inter­view with NPR’s Teri Gross. And just below, hear Díaz read from The Brief Won­drous Life of Oscar Wao at the Key West Lit­er­ary Sem­i­nar in 2008.

via Col­or Lines

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Online Lit­er­a­ture Cours­es

Junot Díaz Anno­tates a Selec­tion of The Brief Won­drous Life of Oscar Wao for “Poet­ry Genius”

David Fos­ter Wallace’s 1994 Syl­labus: How to Teach Seri­ous Lit­er­a­ture with Light­weight Books

W.H. Auden’s 1941 Lit­er­a­ture Syl­labus Asks Stu­dents to Read 32 Great Works, Cov­er­ing 6000 Pages

Lyn­da Barry’s Won­der­ful­ly Illus­trat­ed Syl­labus & Home­work Assign­ments from Her UW-Madi­son Class, “The Unthink­able Mind”

Don­ald Barthelme’s Syl­labus High­lights 81 Books Essen­tial for a Lit­er­ary Edu­ca­tion

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

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