Monthly Archive for June, 2007

Farewell Frans

Earlier this month I received what looked like an invitation to an event in Amsterdam. As we were going to press and it was in Dutch, I put it aside to read later.

Last week I had time to look at properly, and, with the aid of Babel Fish, I sadly discovered it was an invitation to attend the cremation service of the cartoonist Frans de Boer, who had passed away on 10th June at the age of 77. (Several cartoonists from the Netherlands regularly send cartoons to Prospect. Interestingly, we have hardly any from other continental European countries.)

Frans’s work hasn’t featured in Prospect for some years, but he had a rather charming, whimsical style of drawing. Rather than cracking jokes about topical issues or committing dreadful puns, he created little vignettes which sought to illuminate the oddness of everyday life. I will miss receiving them.

FarewellFrans

Critic watch 2: Andrew O’Hagan

The novelist Andrew O’Hagan is, in his critical writings, never afraid to take on big subjects and, quite often, to make airy generalisations that sound impressive but whose meaning is never entirely clear. But he has written a very interesting and on-the-money review of Don DeLillo’s new novel, Falling Man, in the latest issue of the NYRB (the novel was reviewed in June’s Prospect by Erik Tarloff). O’Hagan’s basic point is that all DeLillo’s fiction has, in some sense, been a preparation for 9/11, or a disaster of a similar magnitude—he has always been obsessed with terrorism, and with the idea of catastrophes being played out in public. But now that such a calamity has happened, where is DeLillo’s fiction to go next? As O’Hagan puts it: “What is a prophet once his fiery word becomes deed…What is left of the paranoid style when all suspicions become true?” It’s a good question—and O’Hagan’s verdict on the new novel, like Erik Tarloff’s, is decidedly lukewarm.

In amongst the review’s good sense, there is one moment when O’Hagan gets a bit carried away with his own DeLillo-esque sense of destinies colliding: “If the twin towers could be said to have stood in wait for the Mohamed Attas of the world, then the Mohamed Attas of the world were standing in wait for Don DeLillo.” DeLillo may be one of America’s best writers, but I think that may be according him a bit too much importance.

The reshuffle and foreign policy

In the immediate aftermath of the cabinet reshuffle, most of the discussion seems to revolve around what the appointment of David Miliband as foreign secretary—who has made critical remarks about Israel’s conduct in Lebanon last summer, and who is widely supposed to have deep misgivings about Britain’s role in Iraq—will mean for British foreign policy. In terms of “giving signals,” however, the appointment of Mark Malloch Brown—on which more later—as foreign office minister for Africa, Asia and the UN seems even more provocative; as deputy secretary-general of the UN, Malloch Brown made himself a hate figure in the US last year when he criticised Washington for allowing “too much unchecked UN-bashing and stereotyping.”

Meanwhile, as Prospect predicted in May, Malloch Brown’s former UN colleague Michael Williams may have found himself embroiled in a turf war with Tony Blair in the middle east, to where, of course, the dethroned Blair will be acting as the “quartet’s” representative. For the last few weeks, Williams has been acting as the UN’s special envoy to the middle east, but is the region big enough for two British diplomatic big-hitters? There are rumours that Blair will take over Williams’s office in Jerusalem. Might we even see Williams return to London?

Species of speciousness 4: false analogy

This is a simple and self-evidently fallacious technique, yet it would be difficult to find an author who has not, at some stage, indulged it to some degree—largely because all analogies that aren’t actually tautologies are not, strictly speaking, true in logical terms. The following extract, however, shows how important questions of degree are—along with the elusive question of what we judge to be reasonable or unreasonable. In the spirit of a debate currently animating Prospect’s blog and postbag, it is taken from Peter Hitchens’s review in the Daily Mail of his brother Christopher’s God is not Great:

As the serpent promises: “Ye shall be as gods.” These may be the most important words in the whole Bible.

Take the enticing satanic advice, and you arrive, quite quickly, at revolutionary terror, at the invention of the atom bomb, at the torture chamber and the building of concentration camps for those unteachable morons who do not share your vision of a just world.

And also you arrive at the idea, embraced by Christopher, that by invading Iraq, you can make the world a better place.

An astonishing number of assumptions and equivalences are crammed into these three paragraphs, but their besetting error is that of false analogy—lumping together a roll call of items that are, supposedly, similar enough to constitute of themselves a coherent argument.

Peter Hitchens may, of course, truly believe that his brother’s support for the invasion of Iraq is best understood in the light of Satan’s words in the garden of Eden; but the pretence that he can offer a coherent historical argument supporting this claim (as is implied by the words “you arrive at…” ) is dishonest. What we are given is a series of opinionated descriptions pretending to be an argument, underpinned by the demonstrably false assumption that the analogies between a Biblical story, revolutionary terror, the invention of the atom bomb, concentration camps and American foreign policy are so self-evident they need not be spelled out. Analogies there may well be, but unless these are precisely defined and qualified, they can have no force or validity (or utility).

Speciousness-watchers may enjoy combing through Peter’s review for their further edification, furnished as it is with gems like these—”We abolished the gallows… and found we had created an armed police and an epidemic of prison suicides,” or ” If you do not worship God, you end up worshipping power.” It’s enough to make you wonder who the real devil’s advocate is.

Prospect reads

What Prospect staff are reading:

Tom Chatfield

I’ve just finished reading Why is There Something Rather than Nothing? 23 Questions from Great Philosophers by Leszek Kolakowski, who according to the back cover is “one of the world’s most admired philosophers.” It’s one of those increasingly ubiquitous, high-quality mini-hardbacks that Penguin in particular seem to churn out, but it’s definitely one of the better of the breed. From Socrates to Husserl, Kolakowski’s technique is to tell you a bit about what each philosopher said, and then to ask a few related questions (thus, after Descartes—”if the truths of mathematics really are arbitrarily decreed by God, what does it mean to say that they are true?”). This is very Socratic, and is potentially disconcerting for readers brought up, like myself, on the idea that we read in order to learn what modern authors believe to be right or wrong about past thinking. The lack of detail in this brief book is inevitably frustrating, but it’s nice to be driven back to philosophers’ original texts armed with queries rather than second-hand opinions.

John Kelly

The Damned Utd, by David Peace. Brian Clough lasted 44 days as manager of Leeds Utd in 1974. David Peace is an Ossett lad, Granta Best of Young British novelist and the nearest thing to a world-class sports writer Britain has ever produced. The Damned Utd. is a startling fictional internal monologue which charts the self-doubt of a thwarted football star turned manager—Clough scored 251 goals in 273 matches before injury killed his career—in charge of the hardmen of Leeds Utd. in their fading pomp. Clough, the prototype motormouth media pundit, had gone on record as despising the tactics of a team he, and the purists of football, hated and envied in equal, torrid measure. There are several compelling reasons to recommend this book, and oddly, an interest in football is not necessarily top of the list—but it probably helps.

Susha Lee-Shothaman

Better: A Surgeon’s Notes on Performance by Atul Gawande. Gawande is a Boston-based surgeon who writes on medicine for the New Yorker, in which these essays were first published. It’s the best “med lit” book I’ve read recently, and Gawande’s willingness to explore the effect of human error in medicine is particularly welcome. One of the book’s key points—that big improvements in medical care can come about by diligently applying what we already know—is both depressing and heartening.

Tom Nuttall

Grand Illusions” (subscription required), David Samuels’s epic portrait of Condoleezza Rice and her attempts to help restart the middle east peace process, inside the June issue of the Atlantic. The sacking of Donald Rumsfeld and the weakening of Dick Cheney mean that the secretary of state’s influence in the White House is stronger than ever—both because of her close personal relationship with President Bush and the fact that the US administration’s foreign policy is now largely run by her former colleagues and intellectual allies—Robert Gates, Stephen Hadley, Nicholas Burns.

The same magazine contains an intriguing piece by Ron Rosenbaum on the growing “scam-baiting” movement, whose adherents respond to “419″ con artists—the authors of emails, usually originating in Africa, urging the recipient to send through his/her bank details in order to assist the sender in moving a large amount of money out of the country—by asking them to perform increasingly outlandish tasks and to provide photographic evidence. One scam-baiter even managed to convince his correspondent to produce a complete wood carving of the Commodore 64 computer, promising in return lucrative sponsorship from a British art gallery.

Ayanna Prevatt-Goldstein

DT Max’s Letter from Austin in the 18th June New Yorker—on why the archives of so many great writers end up in Texas. Tom Staley, 71 years old, runs the literary archive of the University of Texas at Austin. The archive contains millions of manuscript pages, photographs and books, and thousands of objects, including a lock of Byron’s hair. It includes one of the 48 Gutenberg Bibles, a first edition of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the corrected proof of Ulysses, on which James Joyce rewrote parts of the novel. Staley’s bought almost 100 literary collections over the last 20 years, including Jorge Luis Borges, John Osborne, Tom Stoppard, Don DeLillo, Norman Mailer.

Archives throw up all sorts of interesting questions: what should we keep? What do we value? What is the point? There is no point putting the Ransom Centre’s archives online, Staley believes, because then how would you smell the manuscript? Some authors’ archives create a picture of the era in which they lived: Mailer’s papers are “wide-ranging - political and social.” Some, such as DeLillo’s, are “narrow but pure. You sense, in his papers, that his life is work and thinking about work.” DeLillo’s archive, a recent acquisition of 125 boxes, is also a good example of an archive in which you can see the transformation of a work from an idea to its final form, you can follow the creative process, through letters, drafts, crossings out, etc. Staley prizes the raw thought over the polished expression, presumably as anyone can go out and buy the culmination of those thoughts in a bookshop. Which inevitably makes you wonder, what will Staley’s successors collect when no one writes on manual typewriters (as DeLillo does) any more?

William Skidelsky

I’m currently reading the Orange Prize-winning Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. It’s a story about various characters caught up in the Nigeria-Biafra war of the 1960s, and is definitely gripping—a real page-turner, in fact. Plus, it’s a handy primer in post-independence Nigerian history. Take these two things together, and it’s unsurprising that it won the Orange—judges love that kind of thing. While not denying that it’s an impressive achievement (especially given that Adichie was born in 1977), there is something almost too effortless, too slick, about her prose. She is tremendously accomplished, and knows it, but in my view really good fiction has to contain some evidence of struggle, of being hard-earned, otherwise it all just seems a bit too easy, and lacking in passion.

I also enjoyed John Lanchester’s review of Tina Brown’s new Diana biography in the New Yorker, even though it is slightly dotty. Lanchester claims that Diana planned from a very young age to marry Charles, and this is why she did so spectacularly badly at school, failing all her O-levels twice—”education… might have put a royal suitor off.” Well, maybe, but surely getting an E grade in woodwork or domestic science would not have made her seem impossibly over-qualified for entrance into the royal family. We shouldn’t underestimate the role her own stupidity played in her academic failure.

John Grays I have known

There are two John Grays. There is the pragmatic realist of vaguely centrist views who I sometimes talk to at parties. Then there is another Gray, who writes apocalyptic books about the follies of modernity, and for whom everything is painted in the bleakest of colours. Alas, much of Gray’s political journalism seems to be written by the latter.

I have not read Gray’s new book Black Mass: Apocalyptic Religion and the Death of Utopia, sympathetically reviewed by Anthony Dworkin in the new issue of Prospect. Judging by the review, the book contains plenty of Isaiah-Berlinian good sense on utopias, in which “clashes of interest among individuals and social groups, antagonism between and within ideals of the good life, choices among evils—these conflicts, which are endemic in every society, are reduced to insignificance.”

What I have read, however, is an extract from the book, published in the Independent last week, on the failure of Tony Blair. The essay is designed to appeal to the disillusioned Labour supporters who trace back almost all of the failings and disappointments of the past ten years to Blair’s alleged “neoconservatism.” But nowhere does Gray define what he means by neoconservatism. Moreover, he makes some quite astonishing claims about the Blair era—that Blair was only concerned, like Thatcher before him, to “reorganise society around the imperatives of the free market.” Has Gray not noticed that the last ten years has seen a huge increase in public spending and the size of the state, a large-scale redistribution of income, significant increases in tax levels, the introduction of a minimum wage and so on? And, according to Gray, the intervention in Iraq was not a piece of hubristic liberal interventionism gone wrong, but a zealous religious crusade.

Gray’s essay is full of such wild and unsubstantiated judgments. These play precisely to the utopianism of a disengaged left—without Blair, the promised land would have been reached!—a left which tends to swing from frenzied political engagement back to political apathy. It is the politics of leftie rock stars and the like, people who care little for the intractable necessary conflicts of the real world that the unsentimental, realist Gray wants us to focus upon.

So despite what sounds like Gray’s anti-Blair leftism, both the essay and the book (judging by Dworkin’s review) seem to end on a deeply conservative, even cynical, note—there is nothing that politics can achieve. Through his sweeping mischaracterisation of Blair as a utopian extremist, Gray seems to absolve us all from bothering about politics at all.

How does Gray find himself in this strange position? I think it is in part the obsession with Blair himself and an inability to capture his rather eclectic, centre-left, social Christian politics. Gray, and many others, just seem to lose their normal judgement when it comes to Blair. I am sure Gray would not mind me revealing a small personal insight into this. Almost every time we have met over the past five years, Gray has bet me that Blair would be kicked out of No 10 within months—and every time I have won. Time to pay up John!

Prospect’s new issue—Gordon Brown, intellectual

cover-july-07.gifHappily coinciding with today’s transfer of power to Gordon Brown, the July issue of Prospect, published today, features a six-article symposium on Brown as intellectual.

Gordon Brown is the first prime minister in decades—possibly a century—who can be said to be a genuine intellectual. This must be significant—but the question our writers attempt to tackle is: how? Despite his bookishness, curiously little is known of Brown’s worldview. He has roots in Scottish social democracy, but how far has he moved on? What books are most important to him? Why are two of his favourite thinkers right-wing Americans? He is a moralist, but is he also a practising Christian? And as Brown moves into No 10, what will all this mean for the governance of Britain?

These and other questions are considered by our six writers:

John Lloyd on Brown the intellectual
Iain McLean on Britain’s other intellectual prime ministers
Daniel Johnson on Brown the unsophisticated bookworm
Geoff Mulgan on the American inspiration behind Brown’s thinking
Richard Cockett on the question of Brown’s religious faith
Kamran Nazeer on Brown’s book Courage

As ever, let us know your thoughts in the comment boxes.

The triumph of Gazprom

Nothing symbolises the new willingness of Vladimir Putin’s Russia to use energy as a political weapon so much as the incredible rise of its state-owned gas giant Gazprom over the last 18 months. Since January 2006, when Russia briefly cut supplies to Ukraine in a spat over pricing, the EU has attempted to produce a gas diversification strategy that reduces its dependence on Russian oil. And as Derek Brower writes in this month’s issue, this is largely because it has been utterly outfoxed by Gazprom. You can discuss this article in the comments box below.

Inside the poker room

David Flusfeder writes inside this month’s issue of the attempt by British casinos to stem the increasing popularity of card rooms across the country, where poker players can get together for a game without the temptation of roulette wheels and blackjack tables. We at Prospect found the article so inspiring that we plan to set up our own card room at the editor’s house. He doesn’t know how to play, but as Flusfeder says, the Texas hold ‘em variety of poker takes “five minutes to learn, a lifetime to master.” And complete beginners are always made to feel welcome at the table by more seasoned players—not necessarily for the most sporting reasons.

Tell us about your own amateur poker experiences below.

Does protectionism work?

essay_chang.gifYes, says Ha-Joon Chang in this month’s Prospect—at least for infant industries in developing countries. Against what he calls the “neoliberal orthodoxy”—privatisation of state assets, limited government, liberalised trade and so on—Chang argues that poor countries should be allowed to make use of protectionist tools like trade tariffs, controls on foreign investment and loose intellectual property regulations—exactly as today’s wealthy countries have done throughout history.

Read Chang’s essay here, and leave your comments below.



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