Saturday, May 25, 2019

Book Review: "The Secret Place" by Tana French

The Secret Place (2014)
Tana French (1973)
452 pages


In the Prologue to Tana French’s mystery novel, The Secret Place, four girls sprawl languidly on a playground, enjoying a late summer day together even as their attention turns to their up-coming third year at St. Kilda’s, a girls’ secondary school in an affluent corner of Dublin. Though they have been friends for several years, they will now be boarding together at the school, sharing a room, and will soon discover that the already complicated dynamics of teenage relationships will be intensified in the isolated crucible of St. Kilda’s. Far from parents and the adult world they have known, the friends and their fellow boarders will have little contact with anyone outside the school --- except for the occasional and even more fraught interactions with their counterparts from the boys’ school up the road, Colm’s.

The story proper opens a year and a half later, when one of the four friends, Holly, shows up at a police station with a photo of a Colm’s boy we come to learn had been found murdered on the grounds of St Kilda’s the previous spring. Despite an exhaustive investigation, the case had remained unsolved, and finally disappeared from the headlines. But now this photo appears, with the message “I know who killed him” pasted across the bottom, formed out of words cut from a magazines. That suddenly a case that had gone cold heats back up.

Holly has brought the picture to a young detective, Stephen Moran, who she had met years before when she had been a witness on a case he had been involved in. She tells him that she found the picture at St Kilda’s on a board, the Secret Place of the title, where the girls can post pictures and notes anonymously --- an attempt by the ruling nuns to create a relief valve for the fervid passions of their pent-up wards. Moran takes the information to the lead detective of the original murder case, Antoinete Conway, and asks to assist with the investigation. Conway, whose prickly and edgy demeanor have meant she’s worked solo since her previous partner retired, reluctantly agrees, and the pair head off to the school.

The two detectives each come to the re-opened case with ulterior motives and a deep-seated skepticism of one another. Moran is plain-spoken and earnest, but nurses the hope that if he plays his cards right, his involvement on this high-profile investigation could become a springboard catapulting him onto the most prestigious part of the police force --- the Murder Squad. He has nothing against Conway, despite her reputation, but recognizes that he must tread lightly to avoid her mercilessly cutting him out of the investigation and sending him scuttling back to the station.

Conway, for her part, has no doubt about Moran’s aspirations in joining the case, and her natural distrust of anyone on the force --- grown out of the struggles she has faced as a woman who won’t back down to its macho mentality --- colors her expectations for working with him. But at the same time, the failure a year earlier to solve this case had been laid at her feet, and has weighed heavily on her pride. She knows that she cannot afford to let her personal concerns about Moran’s possible motives derail this unexpected opportunity to finally solve the murder.

This second go at the investigation lasts the duration of the day Holly appeared at the police station, with French unveiling the story through a sequence of chapters that alternate between current and past events. In one sequence, we follow the investigation from the point of view of Detective Moran, hour by hour, as he and Conway spend the day at the school trying to determine who posted the picture on the board and hoping it will lead them to the murderer, even as they struggle to build a workable relationship with one another. The opposing sequence of chapters tells the story of the four girlfriends from the opening days of third year, to the time of the murder some eight months later.

Through French’s carefully crafted dance between these two timelines, we watch in one as the two detectives struggle to uncover bits and pieces of clues, while in the other we discover the complexity behind what little they can learn. The distinction in detective novels between what clues police officers can discover about events, and what the reader knows actually happened, is a familiar theme. But the overlapping structure in The Secret Place --- the careful integration of past and present --- makes sharply evident the depth of the difference between the tidbits of information the detectives divine and what had actually happened.

Central to events is the profound relationship Molly and her three friends had developed during the school year, as well as their often petty if nonetheless pernicious psychological jousting with the self-defined lead-dog among their classmates and her clique of three friends. Moran and Conway struggle to break through the veil of secrecy that all eight girls try to maintain --- a view of life at the school the girls carefully craft for these adult intruders. Ultimately the detectives can only catch glimpses of the complex dynamics among Molly and her friends, and between them and their rivals, that we as readers are privy to.

But, even we readers are left guessing right to the end, as French’s skillful interlacing of the two timelines has the benefit of aligning the revelation of the novel’s surprising conclusions: we arrive essentially simultaneously at the moment of the murder and the discovery of the murderer. Along the way, despite having opened with news of the murder, French manages to continuously ratchet up the tension. She opens each of the chapters set in the months leading up to the murder with a countdown of how long the Colm’s boy has to live, even as he – neither completely innocent nor a cad, simply human – becomes unwittingly ensnared in a web of confusion arising out of the angst and machinations of the eight St. Kilda’s girls at the heart of the story. And, as the two sparing detectives tease out these girls’ intentions and schemes, they, and we, are left fully engaged but guessing to the very end.

Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Book Review: "You Know You Want This" by Kristen Roupenian

You Know You Want This (2019)
Kristen Roupenian (1981)
225 pages

The title of Kristen Roupenian’s collection of short stories, You Know You Want This, serves readers as both a lascivious intimation of what to expect when we venture inside the book, as well as a mischievous provocation that we won’t be able to look away once we do. But those who want it --- whether characters or readers --- should be careful what they wish for, as Roupenian gives no quarter, shows no mercy, to her characters or her readers. This collection, in fact, satisfies a quality I look for in a book or a movie: that it grab one by the throat, and not let go until the end --- that it be impossible to look away.

Roupenian gets right down to business in the first story, Bad Boy, which opens with a couple commiserating in their kitchen with a friend who has broken up --- yet again --- with his girlfriend. The couple oscillates between sympathy for their friend and exasperation at his having “so little insight into the causes of his own problems” (1), and ultimately these disparate reactions prove toxic when combined with their friend’s desperate need for acceptance. Out of an initial desire to be supportive the couple gradually adopts the friend into their home and their lives, but their contempt for him soon comes to the fore. They begin to treat him more and more like a pet or a toy, one that they find spices up their lives in ways they hadn’t realized they were lacking, and the friendship devolves into a disturbing dominance that spirals out of control, with shocking consequences. For those familiar with the Stanford Prison Experiment, this story has a bit of the same feel, except taken to a very personal level, and an even more extreme conclusion.

This structure, of opening with apparently innocent and common place settings and characters before veering inexorably into dark and dangerous corners, runs throughout the collection. The most disquieting aspect of these tales is, in fact, that the characters initially seem non-threatening; they may admittedly have some salacious or perhaps even slightly depraved thoughts, but these are not so very different than what may dance around in the back of many people’s minds as idle, internal voyeurism, never meant for the light of day.

In Roupenian hands, however, these idle thoughts become unleashed, her characters acting on them, taking them to their logical conclusions; and so, in the twelve stories of this collection, the familiar story tropes of romance and dating spin horrifically out of control. Each opens a bit like the Non Sequitur cartoon below --- a bit lewd but hardly aggressive; for Roupenian, however, there would come a second frame, containing a dark and perverse twist, in which the customer proceeds to turn his thoughts into actions, and then a third, in which extreme consequence become realized.



Thus, the story Cat Person certainly starts out innocently enough: Margot, a co-ed working at a movie theater concession stand, flirts with a customer, a bit drawn to him perhaps, but mostly to pass the time behind the counter. Then, on his next visit to the theater when he asks for her number she gives it to him, and their relationship slowly develops around a seemingly light-hearted exchange of text messages. Margot notices, however, that “if she took more than a few hours to respond his next message would always be short and wouldn’t include a question, so it was up to her to reinitiate the conversation, which she always did.” (78) She ignores this early warning sign, however, and discovers too late that it comes to characterize their relationship: he reacts to the slightest hesitation on her part by pulling back, and each time he does she takes a step toward him, more in the hopes of placating him than out of attraction to him. We watch her begin a running, internal dialogue that makes clear she recognizes the ridiculousness of the situation she’s gotten herself into even as she feels powerless to extract herself from the degrading relationship. Through Margot, Roupenian presents an unforgiving portrait of the destructive power of insecurity and rationalization.

Though these themes of self-deluding and self-destructive desire run through all of the stories in the collection, Roupenian uses a variety of genres to explore them. The Mirror, the Bucket, and the Old Thigh Bone, for example, takes the form of a legend, telling a tale of a long ago king who becomes increasingly frustrated with his daughter’s refusal to settle on a suitor --- though each has his charms, she finds none quite good enough. When the Royal Advisor decides to intervene with a plan of his own to trick her into making a choice, his gambit fails spectacularly, as the true source of the princess’ hesitation is revealed.

Roupenian turns to fantasy in Scarred, in which the main character discovers a book of spells half-hidden among the stacks at a library. She sneaks it out of the building and, once home, gives the first entry in the book a try; though she has little expectation that anything will happen, a desperate desire drives her on. When she discovers that the spells actually do work, and that she can have whatever she might want, she gradually finds her humanity overwhelmed by an intoxicating greed.

All of the stories in this collection reveal, and revel in, the dark and dirty underside of human desire. The characters inexorably debase themselves through a series of little steps, each taken with a seemingly inconsequential bit of rationalization, until at some point they find themselves beyond recovery. And we, Roupenian’s readers --- at least those not so shocked by the degenerate cruelty of the first story that they don’t continue --- will also need to plead guilty to being unable to turn away. We become voyeurs, virtual participants in a feast of perversity, and in that sense we come to realize that Roupenian is correct in saying to us, you know you want this.


Other reviews / information:

Details about the Stanford Prison Experiment at wiki.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf


Tuesday, April 9, 2019

Book Review: "The Art of Stillness" by Pico Iyer

The Art of Stillness (2014)
Pico Iyer (1957)
79 pages


The importance of finding ways to at least periodically disconnect from the frenetic pace of the modern world has become a popular theme in media reports on health, culture and technology. Such articles generally lament the inability of so many to set aside their electronic devices, to resist the urge to frequently, even obsessively, check in at work or update social media accounts. The solutions offered tend to involve such relatively modest steps as putting one’s phone in a drawer at dinner time, or for an hour before bed time; at the more extreme end, some propose electronics-free weekends or vacations.

Author Pico Iyer, however, has embraced a much more profound change to bring quiet to his life, and in his book The Art of Stillness, he describes his path of transformation. A writer of books and articles on world affairs and cultural topics, Iyer notes that in his twenties he traveled extensively --- nearly year-around --- to exotic locations throughout the world, both for reporting opportunities, as well as for vacations. He recalls, however, that,
[although I] had the life I might have dreamed of as a boy, … for all the daily excitement … something inside me felt that I was racing around so much that I never had a chance to see where I was going, or to check whether I was truly happy. Indeed, hurrying around in search of contentment seemed a perfect way of ensuring I’d never be settled or content. (11)

Then, some years ago, his travels took him to an isolated hermitage in the mountains above Los Angeles, to interview the poet and singer Leonard Cohen on his decision to retreat from the world and his celebrity. To Iyer’s surprise, Cohen explained that despite all he had experienced in his long life on the world’s stage, “sitting still, he said with unexpected passion, was ‘the real deep entertainment’ he had found.” (2) Cohen spoke so convincingly of the peace and beauty he had discovered in the quiet of the mountain retreat that Iyer, as he drove back to LA and the noisy chaos of his daily life, began to reconsider his own choices and future.

These reflections led him to take a dramatic step of moving for a year to Kyoto, Japan, to live in a small room on a back-street. This stay in Japan became his first extended experience of retreating from the world, and so changing the life he had to that point made for himself.

Upon his return to the U.S., however, he resumed traveling for work, quickly sliding back into his old ways of life. Though he found himself enjoying these trips, he soon longed again for the contentment he had found during his year of living simply in Japan. Eventually, seeking to reconnect with the benefits of that experience, he traveled to a Benedictine retreat house in the mountains of California to spend a few nights. Once there, he was so taken by the peace he discovered that already before leaving he made reservations to return for a longer stay. And thus began his serious pursuit of stillness.

His experiences during these retreats led him to understand “how making a living and making a life sometimes point in opposite directions,” (4) and, deciding that he had been sacrificing too much to his career, he emerged from this period resolved to pivot his focus to “making a life.” Deciding to make this resolution concrete, he moved back to Japan for good.  There he moved into a tiny apartment in which he and his wife “have no car, no bicycle, no bedroom or TV [he] can understand.”  Though still working to support his family, he has created a simpler life for himself, one in which “the freedom from distraction and complication means that every day, when I wake up, looks like a clear meadow with nothing ahead of me, stretching towards the mountains.” (16)

http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2018/02/book-review-simple-life-by-ernst.htmlIyer’s resolution to withdraw from his established life and its expectations by seeking out an existence less encumbered by the demands of the world recalls the similar path followed in Ernst Wiechert’s The Simple Life (Das einfache Leben, my review linked to at right) by the main character, Thomas. A naval captain who had served in the German navy in WWI, Thomas’ experiences during the war leave him disenchanted with society and unable to find peace with himself. And so he leaves home, heading into the German countryside in search of “the simple life.” Eventually, he settles to live and work in an isolated corner of a distant estate, where he comes to realize that:
only now did he know what inner peace was, the deep breath of an existence that wanted and coveted nothing, that had nothing to regret and nothing to remember, that was not happy or sad. (198)

While Wiechert’s story suggests the concept of a person finding inner peace through a return to nature and “honest” hard work on the land, in The Art of Stillness, Iyer focuses more on the need to rid oneself of distractions, and thereby learn to sit still and become comfortable allowing one’s mind to wander freely. And, in that sense, Iyer’s approach is more broadly applicable to a modern life. Certainly, as a writer, Iyer himself has a particularly suitable occupation for living in physical isolation. But, although he helps himself in his pursuit for stillness by withdrawing to an isolated setting, he does acknowledge that not everyone can simply relocate to the backstreets of Kyoto (or, as in Wiechert’s novel, to a distant farming estate). His message, in fact, is that we should not all isolate ourselves; rather, the point is for us to learn to find stillness within ourselves, whatever we may do for a living,  wherever we may live, and whatever we might have going on around us.

Though Iyer mentions in the book that he has not directly followed a path of meditation to achieve the stillness he has found --- saying in fact that he has “never been a member of any meditation … group” (6) --- he does note “the quantifiable, scientific evidence that meditation would lead not just to clearer thinking and better health but to emotional intelligence.” (42) Such findings are the subject of books such as Robert Wright’s Why Buddhism Is True, which, as its subtitle explains, examines The Science and Philosophy of Meditation and Enlightenment. (My review linked to at left.) Wright’s book grew out of his earlier exploration (and writings) on the field of evolutionary psychology, and his subsequent desire to “operationalize the truth --- a way to put the actual, scientific truth about human nature and the human condition into a form that would not just identify and explain the illusions we labor under but would also help us liberate ourselves from them.” (Wright, 11)

http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2018/10/book-review-why-buddhism-is-true-by.html And so, like Iyer, Wright pursues stillness, though he explicitly chooses the practice of mediation as his path. Interestingly, during an interview about his book, Wright described himself as the least likely person to be able to meditate efficiently, his mind a roiling chaos of distraction, far from quiet (interviewed on Sam Harris' podcast Waking up).  It raises the question, as we learn about Iyer’s largely self-taught approach, of whether Iyer simply started closer to his goal, was perhaps predisposed to settling into a quiet lifestyle, and so less reliant on following a formal regime or training to achieve the stillness he sought. For those of us without this beneficial inclination, however, meditation offers a more structured path to achieve what Iyer has apparently discovered on his own.

Even if we cannot all free ourselves from the noisy commotion of our daily lives by disappearing to a back street in Kyoto, Iyer’s wonderful essay helps point us in the direction of what we can perhaps achieve, each in our own way, within the context of our own lives.


Other reviews / information:

Iyer’s book is part of a series called TED Books, each intended to be short enough to read through quickly, and each associated with a TED Talk. The TED Talk that Iyer gave as a companion to this book is linked to here


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf


Friday, March 8, 2019

Book Review: "Little Reunions" by Eileen Chang

Little Reunions (2009)
Eileen Chang (1920-1995)
332 pages


Early in Eileen Chang’s novel Little Reunions, her main character, Julie, muses on the complicated history and messy present of her family:
Memories, happy or not, always embodied a doleful note …. She never sought out melancholy, but life unavoidably overflowed with it. Just thinking [about her family’s past] made her feel like she was standing in the portal of an ancient edifice, peering through the moonlight and dark shade that permeated the ruins of a once novel and illustrious household, which was now nothing more than scattered shards of roof tiles and piles of rubble from collapse walls. That instant of knowing what once existed here. (67-68)
But the apple does not fall far from the tree, and Julie herself struggles to escape the long shadow of her family’s tendency toward dysfunction. Though able to recognize foibles and frailties in her family, friends and acquaintances, she finds herself cursed with many of these same weaknesses, leaving her no more able to elude unpromising relationships than the rest of her family.

The story opens in the fall of 1941, with Julie beginning her fourth year studying at a convent school in Hong Kong, having left her home in Shanghai in the wake of its occupation by the Japanese. By December the Japanese have taken control of Hong Kong too, and with the convent shut down and little else holding her to Hong Kong, Julie returns home to Shanghai. There, freed from the demands of school but also without a degree, she struggles to find her bearings, not least because she must once again navigate the intricate machinations of her family.

http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2016/09/book-review-naked-earth-by-eileen-chang.htmlFurther complicating her attempts to build a life for herself in Shanghai are the destruction and chaos that enveloped mid-twentieth century China. The long and painful Chinese civil war that dominated the period was interrupted for a time by the horrors of the Japanese invasion, before re-starting with a vengeance once the Japanese were defeated by the Americans. These geo-political events form the back drop of Chang’s story, as they did for her novel Naked Earth and the short stories of her collection Love in a Fallen City. (My reviews of these linked to at right.)

http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2014/02/book-review-love-in-fallen-city-by.htmlIn fact, Julie’s observations about her family quoted earlier, describing “an ancient edifice, … the moonlight and dark shadows that permeated the ruins of a once noble and illustrious household … now nothing more than scattered shards … and piles of rubble,” also succinctly depict China at this nadir of its history. The resulting disruptions of these wars, both in terms of the restriction on movement, as well as the acceleration of social transformations driven by outside influences, serve to complicate Julie’s already strained relationships.

And these challenging relationships begin with the one between Julie and her mother. Already in the opening pages we learn that
Julie’s uncle [on her father’s side] had no daughter of his own, so there was a verbal agreement that he adopt her. Consequently, Julie began calling her birth parents Second Aunt and Second Uncle, and since childhood found this arrangement liberating. (12)
Julie’s birth mother too has taken full advantage of the freedom this situation has given her. Divorced even before Julie moves to Hong Kong to study, her mother travels abroad for years at a time, all the while cycling through a series of temporary relationships. With neither mother nor daughter quite satisfied with their own lives, and each critical of the other’s choices, their little reunions tend to play out as deeply strained reconciliations, despite the biological ties that bind them.

However much Julie may have enjoyed the freedom these “peculiar” (12) family arrangements gave her as she grew up, their full impacts become clear as she reaches adulthood. The complexity of her family life, and her on-again, off-again connection with her mother become a hallmark of her dating relationships. When the charismatic Chih-yung enters her life and eventually becomes her husband, she finds herself struggling to create the deep relationship with him that she longs for.

Chang’s approach to telling the story reflects the complexity of the relationships it describes. Though structured around a nominal timeline of Julie’s recollections of her experiences from just before the Japanese invasion of Hong Kong in late 1941 up to around the time of the end of the Chinese civil war in 1950, the story has the flighty, stream-of-consciousness nature reminiscent of the running dialogue we most of us have running through our heads about ourselves and our lives as we go through the day. Julie will be present in a particular moment and scene, and suddenly some action or smell or word will transport her thoughts to a time in her past, or occasionally her future. Then, just as suddenly, she will return to the present, though not always at the same moment she had left from.

As would be true for someone who could hear our own often jumbled thoughts, these transitions happen without warning, with nothing flagging that Julie has jumped forward or backward in time. But readers who allow themselves to be drawn into the flow and pattern of her thinking, and the intensity of her experiences, are rewarded for their effort. Within the interconnected puzzle pieces of the life that she presents us, we come to discover a wonderful, if dark and melancholy, character study of a woman coming of age in a rapidly changing China, a country struggling to find its place in the modern world during a long period of disruption and uncertainty.


Other reviews / information:

According to the Translator's Note in the book, "Eileen Chang completed Little Reunions in 1976 and sent [it to friends] who later became her literary executors." (vii)   
 
This another wonderful selection in the New York Review of Books (NYRB) Classics collection.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Lamentation 3: the reflection that her life left behind

In Ernst Wiechert's novel The Simple Life (Das einfache Leben), the main character, Thomas, keeps company with his wife at her bedside, as she succumbs to the inexorable ravages of an incurable disease.  In the hour after midnight she dies, and Thomas sits with her body, observing it as the hours pass, contemplating the fragility of what she has left behind.
The poor form passed away … and that which they call immortal remained in what is frail.  In [their son's] blood, in memories, in the reflection that her life left behind.  One part he himself would preserve, one part [their son], but most of it would fade away like the sunset. One would know that she had been, and that people, animals and plants had welcomed her, but the dawn snuffed her out, and the new day covered her up. (220)
Die arme Form verging … und das, was sie unvergänglich nannten, blieb im Gebrechlichen.  In [dem] Blut [ihres Sonnes], in Erinnerungen, in dem Widerschein, den ihr Leben zurückließ. Einen Teil würde er selbst bewahren, einen Teil [ihr Son], das meiste aber würde vergehen wie eine Abendröte. Man würde wissen, daß sie gewesen war, Menschen, Tiere und Pflanzen hatten sie empfangen, aber das Morgenrot löschte sie aus, und der neue Tag deckte sie zu. (220)

For mom, 29 January 2019.


Other reviews / information:

The translation of the quote from the original German is mine.

My review of The Simple Life (Das einfache Leben) here.

More quotes from the book here.

Another entry in an occasional series of posts of lamentation. (The introduction to this series can be found here, and links to the complete series here.)

Monday, January 28, 2019

Book Review: "The Coddling of the American Mind" by Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt

The Coddling of the American Mind (2018)
Greg Lukianoff (1974) and Jonathan Haidt (1963)
338 pages


What to make of the dramatic rise in the number and intensity of protests on college campuses these past few years? The distinguishing feature in these recent demonstrations has been the focus by the students involved on shutting down or condemning speech deemed to be in some way harmful, whether it appeared in comments made by members of the campus community, or in the presentations of visiting speakers.

Although the past few decades have certainly seen occasional attempts to block or disinvite speakers, and the mid-to-late sixties were filled with campus protests that turned violent over political and social policy concerns, the current attempts by students to proscribe unwelcome speech, and the violent protests they have precipitated to do so, appear to be a new phenomenon.

In their engaging and thought-provoking work The Coddling of the American Mind, authors Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt claim that the sudden onset of these kinds of disruptions in the last four or five years is not actually surprising. Building on ideas they first presented in an August 2015 article with the same title in The Atlantic, they directly link the recent changes in behavior on college campuses to the experiences these students had growing up as part of the “iGen” generation (or “Generation Z”) that followed Millennials, that is, children born starting in 1995. They argue that changes in technology, in social conditions, and, critically, in how parents have raised and educators have engaged with this generation have led to a cohort of college students primed to usher in the dramatic events now being seen on campus.

The authors present their case systematically, dividing their presentation into four groups of chapters. In the first section they describe what they refer to as the Three Bad Ideas, beliefs that they argue have been inculcated into the iGen generation, leaving them particularly sensitive and reactive to speech that they find threatening. The second section of chapters examines in detail several examples of the resulting unrest and violence on college campuses, which the authors view as an outgrowth of the internalization of these bad ideas. In the third section they explore six social developments that they feel have led to the indoctrination of the iGen generation with the three bad ideas. They conclude in the final section by suggesting changes to how children are raised, and how students are treated on college campuses, approaches that they feel could help reverse the present troubling trends.

The opening section identifies and describes the Three Bad Ideas , or untruths, that Lukianoff and Haidt feel have led today’s college students astray. The first of these, The Untruth of Fragility they illustrate by giving an inverted sense to an old adage: “What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker.” They argue that children today are being raised in an over-protective environment, and that this parental and now even legal hyper-concern for children’s safety prevents them from developing the strength to later face the world on their own.

The authors claim that this focus on safety in fact undermines the reality that children are “anti-fragile” --- not simply not-fragile, or resilient, but actually requiring, like our immune systems, “stressors and challenges in order to learn, adapt and grow.” (23) Depriving children of such experiences leaves them fragile, emotionally unable to cope with even the slightest bit of controversy over, or challenge to, their beliefs, views and expectations about the world.

The second bad idea, The Untruth of Emotional Reasoning, they describe as the belief that how one feels about an event or situation provides a valid understanding of what has occurred. For someone condition to accept this belief, the feeling that an aggression has occurred means that by definition it has. The tendency becomes to view any sort of unwelcome behavior or statement in the worst possible light, defining even accidental and unintentional offenses as aggressions. This leads ultimately to the concept of so-called micro-aggressions, a view that apparently no miss-statement is too minor to be condemned.

The last of the three bad ideas, The Untruth of Us Versus Them, arises out of humankind’s deeply engrained instinct for tribalism, and Lukianoff and Haidt view it as manifested in the practice of identity politics. In particular, the pair distinguish between two kinds of identity politics that arise out of this way of thinking. One they refer to as common-humanity identity politics, such as practiced by Martin Luther King, which attempts to motivate improvements for an oppressed or downtrodden group by appealing to a shared, or common humanity.

The other, which the authors find dangerously divisive, is what they refer to as common-enemy identity politics. They describe this as an approach that tends to unite a group by defining those in the group as good, and all those outside the group as the enemy. The result is an us-versus-them mentality that amplifies the impact of the first two untruths by creating groups of people who feel they have been offended and so the victims of aggression, and within which the three bad ideas become reinforced and so strengthened.

The author’s fundamental claim, then, is that the children of the iGen generation have been raised to internalize and believe bad ideas, and as a result have come to view the world through the lens of these untruths. This, they argue, has led to a generation that finds itself easily offended, trusts in their emotional response to words or actions as the arbiter of whether they should feel offended, and perceives anyone they feel has offended them, intentionally or otherwise, as the enemy. That their resulting reactions can become violent should hardly come as a surprise.

And in fact, in the second section, the authors demonstrate how the arrival of the iGen on college campuses in 2013 --- and their growing presence as the Millennials graduated out --- coincided with an increased intolerance of dissenting opinions, which has in turn led to a substantial weakening of the once fundamental standard of academic freedom to debate ideas. Many among this new generation of students, argue the authors, value feeling safe and unchallenged over such concepts as freedom of speech and open discussion. At the same time, the aggressive and sometimes violent reactions of students ingrained with these bad ideas creates an environment that can make the rest of the student body, as well as campus administrators, fearful to even speak up: how can they not become worried that what they say might offend someone, might therefore be perceived as an aggression, and so result in them being ostracized and even attacked?

By exploring several recent examples of uprisings that have occurred on college campuses, Lukianoff and Haidt examine the impact that students raised to believe in the three bad ideas have had. The examples they present include both events internal to a campus, as well as events triggered by the invitation or arrival of an outside speaker onto campus. By going into the details of these situations, the authors are able to point out how the run up to them, the disruption and violence that occurred as they evolved, and their complicated aftermath, exhibit the disastrous implications of youth raised and trained on the identified untruths.

As disturbing as these examples are, and as necessary as analysis of them is to help the authors make their larger point, I found this section of the book the most challenging. If one has heard about these particular incidents in the past, it was most likely a few hyperventilating media reports (or worse, tweet barrages) that mostly highlighted them for their most salacious moments; unless one probed more deeply, the specific details and complexity remained unclear. And so the unavoidable reality is that for such situations it can be easy to take any individual comment or action out of context, especially when trying to make a larger point.

As an example, take the following paragraph toward the end of the authors’ examination of events at Evergreen College in 2017: A student illustrated the Untruth of Emotional Reasoning (always trust your feelings) at the large town-hall meeting when she used her own anxiety as evidence that something was very wrong at Evergreen: “I want to cry, I can’t tell you how fast my heart is beating. I am shaking in my boots.” (119) Without going back and studying the larger context of this student’s statement, a reader could perhaps more simply ascribe this particular student’s comments to a natural fear of addressing a large gathering, as opposed to tying them to some deeper anxiety about the college atmosphere that led to the protests in the first place.

My point is not that the authors, who presumably watched the larger coverage of that particular meeting, didn’t get this right; it’s that events like these are deeply complex, and so resist any kind of brief analysis, even the extended one offered here. Thus, although I’m sympathetic to the authors’ thesis, and agree that their arguments seem to be reflected and substantiated by the campus events as they described them, I’m nonetheless somewhat wary of their specific conclusions regarding what happened during these events. That said, the violence and aggressiveness exhibited by the protestors can certainly not easily be excused, whatever the details of the circumstances, given it was a reaction to speech and ideas that can hardly be described as calls to hate or violence.

In this same vein, however, one laudable aspect of the book is the evident intent of the authors to represent some of this complexity, referring throughout the book to the broader social and political situations that have contributed to the phenomena they describe. They acknowledge the controversial nature of their thesis, and the reality that groups of people have concrete reasons for feeling aggrieved by social and political realities. In the Acknowledgements at the end of the book, they discuss the variety of sources from whom hey solicited feedback to help them bring balance to their arguments:
[our reviewers included] five readers who viewed campus events very differently from the way we did …. We also thank … readers who gave us detailed and very valuable comments on the entire manuscript, critiquing it from the left … [others] critiquing it from the right … and [several] critiquing it from an unidentified location. (272) 
Based on my reading, they so seem to have incorporated into the presentation of their ideas the valuable feedback they received, making the book feel more balanced, and so fairly argued, throughout.

Having described the three bad ideas they feel have become integral to the thinking of the iGen, and implicated that generation’s belief in these untruths in events on college campuses, the authors explore in the third section their understanding of How Did We Get Here, focusing in particular on six areas.

http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2014/04/book-review-making-american-foreign.htmlThey begin with a cause that grows out of a broader trend in American society, one that will be clear to anyone paying even cursory attention to the news: the increasing political polarization that has occurred over the past decades. This evolution has been described by numerous authors, but one example would be Ole R. Holsti, Professor Emeritus of Political Science at Duke University, who discussed the growth of this polarization in his book Making American Foreign Policy. Though he focused on American’s views about foreign policy, his analysis over many years of polling data reveals that in the wake of the disputes over the war in Vietnam, an alignment grew between Americans’ views on domestic and international policy --- an alignment that had not existed previously, and that, once in place, led to the development of divergent and highly partisan viewpoints about policy strategy and directions. (My review of Holsti’s book linked to at right.)

Lukianoff and Haidt argue that this growing partisan divide evolved into what they refer to as an emotional polarization, in which partisans on each side viewed those of the other side as evil, the enemy. Coupled with a shift to the left of university students and faculty, this led to more attacks on universities from conservative organization and media, which in turn created a kind of bunker mentality on campus, engendering and then reinforcing an “us versus them” outlook.

This sensation of being under attack has morphed, however, from pushing back through speech against these attacks from the right, to the recent violent reactions to what seem in some cases to be differences of opinion or even simply misinterpretation of intent. The explanation behind this reaction is tied by the authors to the remaining five areas they cover, all related to the formative lessons of the iGen generation.

For example, Lukianoff and Haidt examine studies that they say show an increase in anxiety and depression among members of the iGen, tied by some researchers to that generation’s exposure to social media and smart phones, which effectively multiply the frequency and impact of negative comments and perceptions.

Next they discuss what they refer to as paranoid parenting, in which parents --- with the best of intentions the authors admit --- stunt their children’s development into competent adults able to function in the rough-and-tumble real-world by protecting them from any experience with danger. In particular, they highlight the decline in play, lamenting that children no longer tend to go off and play alone with other children, an activity that forces them to learn how to get along without recourse to an adult to negotiate solutions to issues that arise. They acknowledge that this problem has broader social origins, as in some states or municipalities it has actually become a crime for even older children to be left on their own.

The result for children raised in these conditions --- anxious and depressed from the buffeting blows of social media exposure, inexperienced at confronting challenges on their own, and unable to negotiate issues without a higher authority present to arbitrate --- has been the arrival on campus of students who are fragile and hyper-sensitive. These students have subsequently driven changes in college and university bureaucracies that the authors identify as a further area of concern, a bureaucracy of safetyism, as administrations at various institutions of higher education have backed down before these students, catering to their sensitivities.

Effectively it has transformed some campuses into environments in which all the hard edges are padded, by trigger warnings, for example, or overly broad rules to limit speech that might even simply be perceived as hurtful or biased. Through measures such as these, administrators not only continue forward the pattern of overly protecting students as fragile, and so not training them to be anti-fragile, but also tear down one of the foundations of a university setting --- the free and open debate of ideas that is so core to scholarship and learning.

The final area the authors discuss is what they refer to as the quest for justice. They argue that we have shifted away from what they define as proportional-procedural social justice, which “aim[s] to remove barriers to equality of opportunity and also to ensure that everyone is treated with dignity.” (231) In its place has arisen a desire for what they refer to as equal-outcomes social justice, an attempt to put in place regulations that enforce equality of outcomes. Enforcing such equal outcomes, however, runs counter to people’s innate sense of fairness, and so creates conflict between groups who don’t feel that all are given equal opportunity to benefit.

Together the issues that Lukianoff and Haidt identify implicate the broader social situation in the United States, the manner in which children are raised, and the environment on college campuses that these children encounter when they come of age. Having established the causes for recent student behavior, in the final section of the book the authors make suggestions for how to back away from the “coddling of the American mind” that they feel has led to it.

Some of these suggestions are difficult simply because they involved revoking or limiting privileges that have now become standard for so many children, such as, for example, restricting access time to electronic devices and social media. Others are difficult because they require a willingness to allow children to experience the risk of failure, and, more critically, some level of physical danger.

Thus, for example, the recommendation to allow children significant unstructured playtime --- that is, without adult supervision --- as was common up until just a few decades ago. Such experiences force children to negotiate with one another, without recourse to an adult to mediate, supporting a fundamental idea mentioned several times in the book, the need to: “Prepare the Child for the Road, Not the Road for the Child.” The authors are fair enough to acknowledge the risks associated with such approaches to childrearing, and that it can be difficult for parents to take on these risks, for both protective reasons, as well as given existing laws in many places.  (One mother's story, here.)

For universities, the authors’ recommendations revolve around returning to a situation of fostering free expression and dialogue, as opposed to trying to box it in to make campuses a safe space. More generally, they stress the importance of fostering a sense of a broad community on campus, as opposed to segregated identities, and not teaching students lessons that effectively reinforce the three great untruths: fragility, emotional reasoning, and viewing life as a battle between us and them.

Lukianoff and Haidt conclude their analysis with a mixture of despair and a bit of hope. On the one hand, they lament that:
America’s rising political polarization and rising rates of adolescent depression, anxiety, and suicide... are serious, and [they] see no sign that either trend will be reversing in the next decade. (264)
At the same time, they note that there has begun to be recognition of the issues they raise, and they list approaches being taken by some groups of parents as well as some college administrations to address them. They describe these as isolated steps so far, but offer them as potential beginnings of a movement back from the harmful ‘coddling’ of children’s’ minds that they feel has become the norm in the last couple of decades.

As the authors themselves point out, their thesis and conclusions touch directly on sensitive and controversial topics, likely to generate significant pushback from the very members of the iGen who they would argue exhibit the corrosive fruits of belief in the three bad ideas. While acknowledging that certain groups of people suffer the impacts of very real discrimination and violence, and that such social and political realities must be forcefully addressed, they nonetheless argue that a generation has been raised with beliefs that lead too many of them to draw the boundaries of unacceptable speech so broadly that conversation is shutdown, stifling the opportunity to even discuss and debate critical issues and potential solutions. Worse yet, the aggressive and sometimes violent reactions that occur create a positive feedback loop, reinforcing the very polarization that has contributed to the growth of these problems.

In The Coddling of the American Mind, Lukianoff and Haidt present a forceful and balanced examination of what has created this new environment, of its impacts on free speech and debate, and of ways to walk back from the edge of what they see as a dangerous precipice, and so again make it possible to have the conversations necessary to make progress on so many challenging issues.



Other reviews / information:

A convenient feature of the book is that the authors include a short summary at the end of each chapter of the main ideas discussed. This helps going back to quickly refresh their earlier arguments as one works through the book.


http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2017/04/book-review-true-believer-by-eric-hoffer.htmlIn the epigraph to Chapter 5, Witch Hunts, the authors making an interesting connection of the modern day aggression and violence on campus over speech to the work of Eric Hoffer from 1951, entitled The True Believer. In that book, Hoffer examines “some peculiarities common to all mass movements” (xi, Hoffer), including the importance of hatred of the other as a means of riling up a crowd. (My review of Hoffer’s book linked to at right.)


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zms3EqGbFOkAt an event at the Institute of Politics, commentator and author Van Jones gave a powerful condemnation of what he calls the “terrible idea” that safe spaces on campus should mean that: “I need to be safe ideologically, I need to be safe emotionally, I just need to feel good all the time, and if someone says something that I don’t like, that’s a problem for everybody else, including the administration.” He goes on to say: “And I think that that is a terrible idea, for the following reason: I don’t want you to be safe, ideologically; I don’t want you to be safe, emotionally; I want you to be strong; that’s different. I’m not going to pave the jungle for you; put on some boots and learn how to deal with adversity.” A link to his full comments at left.


Have you read this book, others by this author, or even similar ones by other authors? I’d enjoy hearing your thoughts.
Other of my book reviews: FICTION Bookshelf and NON-FICTION Bookshelf

Saturday, January 5, 2019

Connections: Social Uncertainty and Its Implications for Violent Reaction

In an earlier post, I discussed remarks historian Vincent Harding made during a conversation with Krista Tippett on her radio show On Being, in which he gave his view of the origins of the growing social disruptions in the United States. His observations have significantly influenced my understanding of the present political moment, and I have repeatedly found resonances to them in other podcasts I listen to, as well as in what I’ve been reading.

One recent example of this appeared in the conclusions of historian Isabel Wilkerson in her engaging and thought-provoking book The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration, which explores the history of the migration of “some six million black southerners” (9) to the North and West of the United States during the early and mid-20th century.


Harding, in that 2011 On Being interview, described his view that a kind of disenchantment was taking hold in the United States, particularly in the white community, regarding their place in the country, economically and culturally. “I have a feeling that one of the deeper transformations that’s going on now is that for the white community of America, there is this uncertainty growing about its own role, its own control, its own capacity to name the realities, that it has moved into a realm of uncertainty that it did not allow itself to face before.
Up to now, uncertainty was the experience of the weak, the poor, the people of color; that ... that was our realm. But now, for all kinds of political, economic reasons, for all kinds of psychological reasons, that uncertainty, and unknowingness, is permeating what was the dominant, so-called, society. That breaking apart is for me more likely the source of the anxiety, the fear, the anger, the unwillingness to give in, the need to have something that they can hold on to and say, this is the way and it's got to be our way or we will all die.
The resulting loss of hope for the future for themselves and their families would lead to, he argued, anger, and by implication, potentially violence. These comments from 2011 now seem prescient in light of events of the past few years.


http://tertulia-moderna.blogspot.com/2018/04/book-review-warmth-of-other-suns-by.htmlIn Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns, we discover an earlier appearance of the dynamic Harding observed in our current social and political climate. As a part of her recounting of the black migration from the South, Wilkerson examines the impacts these migrants had on their destination cities, and in particular their interaction with other migrants to those same cities. In her discussion one discovers a similar “uncertainty,” and accompanying “anxiety” and “fear,” as mentioned by Harding. The causes of these feelings were again a combination of economic uncertainty and cultural difference, though in this earlier case these issues existed between the black population migrating to the North, and white immigrants arriving during the same period, from the South, as well as from abroad. (My review of Wilkerson’s book is linked to at right.)

Wilkerson notes:
Contrary to modern-day assumptions, for much of the history of the United States --- from the Draft Riots of the 1860s to the violence over desegregation a century later --- riots were often carried out by disaffected whites against groups perceived as threats to their survival. Thus riots would become to the North what lynchings were to the South, each a display of uncontained rage by put-upon people directed toward the scapegoats of their condition. Nearly every big northern city experienced one or more during the twentieth century.

Each outbreak pitted two groups that had more in common with each other than either of them realized. Both sides were made up of rural and small-town people who had traveled far in search of the American Dream, both relegated to the worst jobs by industrialists who pitted one group against the other. Each side was struggling to raise its families in a cold, fast, alien place far from their homelands and looked down upon by the earlier, more sophisticated arrivals. They were essentially the same people except for the color of the skin, and many of them arrived into these anonymous receiving station at around the same time, one set against the other and unable to see the commonality of their mutual plight.

Thus these violent clashes bore the futility of Greek tragedy. Yet the situation was even more complicated than the black migrants could have imagined. As they made their way north, so did some of the poorer whites from the South, looking not for freedom from persecution but for greater economic rewards for their hard work. Slavery and share-cropping, along with the ravages of the bool weevil and floods, had depressed the wages of every worker in the South. The call of the North drew some of the southern whites the migrants had sought to escape. (273)

Certainly the situations are not identical. Harding’s observations were about members of the “dominant … [white] society” in relation to “the experience of the weak, the poor, the people of color.” In Wilkerson’s account, she describes the feeling of uncertainty not among the existing, dominant white population of Northern cities, but instead among “disaffected whites” who were poor immigrants from abroad and from the South. (The established white populations of these cities were able to maintain a situation in which they benefited from the work of all of these immigrants --- black and white --- while keeping them segregated into restricted parts of their cities.)

Nonetheless, white immigrants to northern cities experienced a similar dynamic to what Harding describes today, for, though repressed and disparaged by the established, dominant white society in these cities, they considered themselves superior to the black immigrants. But the social and economic constraints faced by all of these newcomers, as Wilkerson observes, place them in direct competition with one-another, and this competition threatened white immigrants’ view of themselves --- to reference again Harding’s words: it introduced “uncertainties about [their] role, [their] control.” And the result then, not surprisingly, was the violence Wilkerson describes, arising out of a feeling that, as Harding said, “it's got to be our way or we will all die.”