Books to Read While the Algae Grow in Your Fur, October 2021
Attention
conservation notice: I have no taste, and no qualifications to opine
on the history of monsters in 18th century France, medieval political
philosophy, the history and archaeology of images of monsters, trends in
mortality and inequality in early 21st century America, or the comparative
sociology of slavery.
(Monsters,
monsters everywhere.)
- Jay M. Smith, Monsters of the Gévaudan: The Making of a Beast
- A full-fledged historian of early modern France tackles the beast of the
Gévaudan, with full attention to the cultural, political and
journalistic (!) context. Smith disclaims wanting to tell the story of the
beast, in favor of telling the story of the stories about the beast, but along
the way he finds himself forced to make a good circumstantial case that "it"
was, in fact, multiple hungry wolves. Strongly recommended for anyone with an
interest in folklore, the intellectual history of early modern Europe,
cryptozoology, or the dynamics of media-driven spasms of public and official
attention.
- Carol Goodman, Ghost Orchid
- Mind candy: literary ghost story, involving a haunted writer's colony in
upstate New York. About half of it might be a direct relation of the
events a century before that set the haunting in motion, or might be the
present-day heroine's novel in progress; they work either way.
- Joan Aiken, The Green Flash, and Other Tales of Horror, Suspense, and Fantasy
- Mind candy, displaying a remarkable range of flavors and tones. One
uniformity: Aiken's men are all clueless about her female characters (it
wouldn't be accurate to say "her women"), to comic and/or ominous effect.
- F. G. Cottam, The Colony
- Mind candy horror. There are some moments of real creepiness, but the
whole plot for the last quarter or so is a bit rushed and sloppy.
- Abu Nasr Muhammad ibn Muhammad al-Farabi (trans. and ed. Charles E. Butterworth), "Political Regime" and "Summary of Plato's Laws"
- Political Regime opens with barely-comprehensible metaphysics
(to put it kindly), before getting into an explanation of the different kinds
of polities, and why the ones most favorable to philosophers are the best.
(There are eventually connections between the metaphysics and the politics.)
The Summary of Plato's Laws is, in fact, a summary of
Plato's Laws,
except for a few sections with no obvious antecedent in Plato's text as we now
know it, and some very mysterious narratives (parables?) at the beginning.
Reading between the lines, one has the clear impression that al-Farabi thought
of Muhammad (pbuh) as a law-giver in Plato's sense... The translator is
clearly
a Straussian,
which colors his commentary, and may contribute to this impression.
(OTOH, I could believe that
Strauss was right about al-Farabi, even if not right about the
entirety of political philosophy before Machiavelli.) I found this fascinating
in a "you are clearly very smart but also alien and just wrong, wrong, wrong"
way, like many of the medievals, but mileage will vary. (Of course, as a
denizen of one of the democratic cities or associations of freedom,
I would think that.)
- David Wengrow, The Origins of Monsters: Image and Cognition in the
First Age of Mechanical Reproduction
- This is an interesting historical/archaeological argument about the origin
and spread of images of unreal, "composite" creatures combining distinct
features of real animals (and/or distinct features of real animals and of human
beings). Many at the borders of psychology and anthropology have claimed that
such hybrid creatures are compelling and attractive objects of thought because
they are "minimally counter-intuitive", they break just enough rules
to focus the mind while still being amenable to various forms of intuitive
cognition. (Obviously a griffin eats food, which it consumes through its
mouth, it stabs with its beak, it rakes with its claws, it flies with its wings
and walks with its legs --- but does it lay eggs?) If this is true, it
suggests that composite animals are popular across time and space because they
appeal to certain universal quirks of the human mind.
- Wengrow, however, claims that hybrids are actually very rare in Paleolithic
and Neolithic art, and only really take off with the appearance of cities,
writing, modular thinking and technologies, and means of mechanical
reproduction (like cylinder seals) in Egypt and, especially, Mesopotamia:
With the expansion of urban settlements throughout Mesopotamia during the fourth millennium BC, the trajectory toward standardization and modularity in material culture intensified markedly. Systems of modular construction, based on the assembly of standardized and interchangeable components, are evident not just in imagery at this time, but also across such diverse technological domains as mud-brick architecture and ceramic commodity packaging... These wider developments in material culture underpinned the invention, around 3300 BC, of the protocuneiform script. This new system of information storage was initially designed for bookkeeping purposes in large urban institutions, which acted as the religious and economic hubs of the earliest cities. It was based on a principle of differentiation whereby materials, animals, plants, and labor were divided into fixed subclasses and units of measurement, organized according to abstract criteria of number, order, and rank. Many of the earliest known administrative tablets thus functioned in a manner comparable to modern punch cards and balance sheets. In order for such a recording system to function, every named commodity---each beer or oil jar, each dairy vessel, and their contents, and each animal of the herd---had to be interchangeable with, and thus equivalent to, every other of the same administrative class. A smaller number of early inscriptions, known as lexical lists, appear to have had no direct administrative function, and may reflect the intellectual milieu of the earliest scribes, who engaged, as part of their training, in "fanciful paradigmatic name-generating exercises" for a wide range of subjects.
The invention of a novel repertory of composite figures can be seen to "fit" very logically into this urban and bureaucratic milieu. In pictorial art, new standards of anatomical precision and uniformity, evident in both miniature and monumental formats, echoed wider developments in material culture. Through the medium of sealing practices, miniature depiction remained closely tied to the practice of administration, which required the multiplication of standardized and clearly distinguishable signs for the official marking of commodities and documents. Variability among seal designs was generated through often-tiny adjustments in the appearance or arrangement of figures and motifs. These did not alter the overall visual statement, but allowed each design to fulfill its designated role as a discrete identifier within the larger administrative system to which it belonged.
In its search for new subject matter, it is hardly surprising that the "bureaucratic eye" was increasingly drawn to the possibilities of composite figuration... Not only did a composite approach to the rendering of organic forms greatly multiply the range of possible subjects for depiction. As Barbara Stafford points out, the counterfactual images that it produced also serve to emphasize details of anatomy that would normally "slip by our attention or be absorbed unthinkingly," becoming noticeable only when disaggregated from their ordinary contexts. Composites thus encapsulated, in striking visual forms, the bureaucratic imperative to confront the world, not as we ordinarily encounter it---made up of unique and sentient totalities---but as an imaginary realm made up of divisible subjects, each comprising a multitude of fissionable, commensurable, and recombinable parts. [pp. 69--73, omitting footnotes and references to figures]
- (This doesn't quite say that composite animals were invented to increase the entropy of Sumerian passwords, but damn if it doesn't come close.)
- From there he goes on to sketch their spread as Bronze Age civilization
spread over the old world. He's quite aware that Mycenean Greece, to say
nothing of Scythia, is very different from early dynastic Egypt or Sumer, and I
don't think he ever quite reconciles the enthusiastic adoption of composite
creature art by societies like those with his account of what motivated its
creation. (Cf., in all seriousness,
my reflections on
Godzilla.) He does not consider new world civilizations at all.
- It's interesting to me that Wengrow is explicitly "in dialogue" (as he
might say) with Dan
Sperber's "epidemiology of representations" school, but thinks he's
uncovered something which forces a re-evaluation of key premises, on the
grounds that composites were evidently not very compelling in
pre-history, and something about how human minds are re-shaped by
civilization is needed to make them compelling. In this I think he
goes too far, for a number of reasons.
- Sperber, at least, has always been clear
that the "relevance" of an idea will depend on what other ideas are already
being entertained.
- Wengrow is making an argument from absence of evidence, when we're just
missing lots of the visual media of pre-historic times (especially, perhaps,
textiles), as he discusses himself. (Indeed, he suggests that pre-state
societies might have had human-animal composites in the form of temporary
rituals of transformation by shamans and the like, as opposed to enduring
visual depictions.) But then the change might just have been who first figured
out how to make compelling composites in sculpture and low relief. Even if we
accept that there just weren't (e.g.) embroidered composite animals, a more
cautious conjecture would be that the pioneering Bronze Age artists who gave us
the griffin, the dragon, etc., were the ones who discovered how to create
visual composite creatures in enduring media which were compelling
enough to be successful (perhaps by activating mental modules for intuitive
biology, etc.). This initial breakthrough may have been facilitated by the
kind of society they were living in, but it might have spread and persisted for
quite different reasons (cf.,
again, Godzilla).
- Wengrow only considers visual depictions,
and not stories (whether we call them folklore or mythology or
something else). Obviously we don't have samples of pre-historic mythology,
and using historic myths recorded from pre-literature cultures as a stand-in
would be hazardous, but it'd at least be interesting to know if there are
stories of composite animals from pre-literature societies which do not also
make visual art of them of the kind Wengrow emphasizes. If we only found the
stories where we also found the art, and we only found the art where it could
(provably or plausibly) have been transmitted from the Bronze Age heartlands,
well, that'd be pretty compelling support for Wengrow. But if the stories are
more wide-spread than the art, that doesn't look great.
- Wengrow rightly criticizes some earlier art-historical and archaeological
writers for claiming that composite monsters are hard to remember or think
about, without providing any kind of psychological evidence to back up this
claim. But his own account of the origin of composite animals from the
"bureaucratic imperative" is, in fact, an ambitious social-psychological
hypothesis. It is supported by nothing more than his describing the purported
cause and effect in ways which suggest an analogy. I realize this is a very
common habit in the social sciences, but it
has little to recommend it, and
one goal the epidemiological approach is to demand a higher, and genuinely
materialist, standard of explanation.
- While I have gone on at some length about those critical points, I want to
emphasize that I very much enjoyed the book, learned a lot of interesting
things from it, and emerged with a lot to think on. It's also (fittingly) a
very handsomely produced little tome.
- ObLinkage, discovered after writing the above:
A 2016
webinar on the book, with responses from Wengrow, at
the International Cognition and
Culture Institute, more or less the organizational home of the
"epidemiology of representations" school. Many of these comments are
interesting and sensible (I might particularly recommend the one
by Karolina
Prochownik). Wengrow's own replies to the comments are themselves
constructive [*].
- Edited to add in late November 2021: I had been meaning to read
this for years, and finally did so this October for thematic reasons. I had no
idea Wengrow had a new book coming out with the late David Graeber. In a very
"Oh David Wengrow No"
development, critics allege some really remarkable errors in that book
[1, 2].
Those errors aren't relevant to this one, but also do not inspire confidence.
On the other hand, they're far outside Wengrow's specialty of archaeology. On
the third hand, this whole dispute is far outside my specialty, so who am I to
judge?
- [*]: Though he repeatedly (e.g., in response to
Prochownik) shows he does not quite understand the idea of "attraction" as used
by this school, since he contrasts "attraction" with "protection" and suggests
that needs an immunological rather than an epidemiological metaphor. (This was
also a theme he floated in the book, but it was less clear to me there that he
didn't understand "attraction".) Sperber et al. are using "attraction" by
analogy with "attractors" in dynamics --- an attractor is a configuration (or
region in state space, etc.) which the system is drawn towards by its internal
forces, even if it doesn't start there but more or less nearby. A cultural
attractor, in Sperber's sense, need not be subjectively appealing,
"attractive" in the everyday sense. Rather it needs to be
mentally compelling, perhaps on an entirely automatic level, but
perhaps also accompanied by such subjective emotions as dread, anxiety, or
disgust. (On all this, see Chapter 5 of Sperber's Explaining
Culture.) Using composite monsters apotropaically, Wengrow's
"protective mode of transmission", might in fact be a cultural attractor in
Sperber's sense, even though the point of such behavior is to drive
dreaded or reviled things away.
- Anne Case and Angus Deaton, Deaths of Despair and the Future of Capitalism
- Read for the inequality class. It's depressing as hell. If you want a
short version, you might
try this
from Case and Deaton,
or this
review by Atul Gawande. As always, the recommendations for action are the
weakest part.
- Susan Hill, The Various Haunts of Men
- This is a skillfully-written mystery by the author of the exemplary
The Woman in
Black. While I (mostly) admired the artistry, and it's the first in
a long series, some stuff happened towards the end which quite undid all my
enjoyment, and it's extremely unlikely I'll read anything else in this series.
However, after returning this to the library I immediately borrowed more of
Hill's ghost stories.
- ROT-13'd for spoilers: V jnf pbzcyrgryl ghearq bss ol gur jnl gur obbx xvyyrq bss Serln Tenssunz. V pbhyqa'g fnl fur jnf sevqtrq, rknpgyl, naq vg'f abg gung vg jnf haernyvfgvp, jvguva gur jbeyq bs gur fgbel, ohg vg frrzrq tenghvgbhfyl anfgl, naq n zrer cynlvat jvgu zl rzbgvbaf nf n ernqre. Lbhe zvyrntr znl inel, naq rivqragyl ybgf bs crbcyr rawbl gur frevrf n terng qrny.
- Orlando Patterson, Slavery and Social Death: A Comparative Study
- A deserved classic, which is why I read it downloaded from
the ACLS Humanities E-Book
website.
- (There is an essay to be written --- it probably has been! --- on
Patterson's flirtation with certain strands of Marxism here, and what it says
about sociology, even or especially because Patterson is plainly not a Marxist.)
- Elizabeth Hand, Black Light
- Mind candy horror. Loosely, a sequel to Hand's magnificent Waking
the Moon. It's set, mostly, in a town a little bit outside New York,
full of eccentric actors who are, knowingly or not, engaged in a very dubious
trade for their share of the limelight. I say "mostly" because important
scenes take place in New York itself, and in places even stranger and creepier
than Manhattan in the 1970s. It's not as good as Waking the Moon,
but that's a very high bar, and this is very satisfying.
- (I, for one, would be interested to know when and
in what form Hand encountered the work
of Mircea
Eliade. The
Sacred and the Profane plays a role
in Generation
Loss, while this book shows clear traces of Eliade's ideas about
repetition of mythic patterns established in illo tempore (as we might
say: "back in the day"), and at one point a character babbles out something
which I am pretty sure is a paraphrase of the opening of ch. 14
of Shamanism.
I am not sure whether Eliade-an themes could be detected in Waking the
Moon, were I to re-read it.)
Books to Read While the Algae Grow in Your Fur;
Commit a Social Science;
Statistics of Inequality and Discrimination;
The Dismal Science;
Philosophy
Islam and Islamic Civilization;
Scientifiction and Fantastica;
Writing for Antiquity;
The Collective Use and Evolution of Concepts;
Psychoceramics;
Pleasures of Detection, Portraits of Crime
Posted at October 31, 2021 23:59 | permanent link