Salut a tous!
I'm finally settling into something of a routine around here, now that I have a real schedule for teaching my classes. I've given a few lessons already, and I feel like I'm doing fairly well, considering the fact that I have essentially zero training in this (aside from one workshop and a few years of babysitting and daycamp experience). Unfortunately, the curse of the elementary school teacher has caught up to me: I'm already sick. Plus, given that the standard greeting procedure in this area is the three-time cheek kiss, I've probably already spread this thing to all of my roommate's friends and family. Or perhaps that's what infected me. It's not debilitating, and luckily I have Mondays and Wednesdays off every week to recuperate.
This weekend as some of you know I traveled about an hour south to visit Provence with my roommate Julien and our friend Wendy. They both come from a small town called Apt (haha), which is in the Luberon, I think. The events of the weekend came as a bit of a surprise to me, because I still can't always understand exactly what Julien is trying to communicate to me. From what I comprehended of his descriptions, the weekend would be spent celebrating his father's birthday, with an evening at a nice restaurant on Friday night and a family get-together on Saturday night. Also, something about mushrooms. When I left I wasn't even sure where I'd be staying, haha.
We arrived just in time to make it to dinner, and luckily the restaurant wasn't so fancy that I was underdressed. In fact, it was very small and the only other patrons were a couple who left relatively early into the festivities. I was greeted by some kind of champagne cocktail and all of Julien's immediate family: parents, nine-year-old little brother Pascal, older sister Emily and borther-in-law Jean Paul. They were extremely gracious and welcoming, and I soon felt relatively at ease. The meal was delicious, accompanied by good wine and family banter. The restaurant owners were clearly great friends of the family, so we had unusually attentive and personal service. I enjoyed myself very much, although I had little bit of trouble getting accustomed to the famed Provencal accent. Little did I know, the accents I heard that night were not even close to the REAL Luberon/Provencal accents. We eventually headed to Julien's parents' house, where I was to spend the night. As we approched the house (mansion), it soon become evident that it functions both as a family home and as a bed and breakfast with two guest rooms. Although it apparently costs 55 euro a night, they were kind enough to let me stay for free.
We got up indecently early the next day to go to the Apt market (apparently Apt is the largest town in the area, boasting a population of 2,000). Wendy and her mother joined Julien, Pascal and I to do some shopping for the party that night. The market took up the whole of the town center, and had both touristy areas and areas for the locals in the know. We enjoyed ourselves immensely, although I think Pascal got rather bored during one 45 minute cloth-buying session. Once we had everything we needed we headed back to the house to rest and have lunch. Lunch turned out to be a full-on Daube Provencal, with bacon, olives, beef, and carrots in a rich broth. Absolutely delightful. I'm even learning to eat olives. We spent most of the rest of the afternoon putting together an expensive drum set for Pascal. I even got to play it a little bit!
I helped Julien's mother (Lyne) get the food ready for the evening, although they had made the dinner into a sort of potluck so all we were really in charge of was the homemade french fries and some brownies. It was at this point that I learned that the main dish was going to be 'moules' (I'm almost positive that means mussels). I was a little wary, but I told Lyne that as far as I knew I hadn't tried them before, so I looked forward to tasting them. Eventually the guests began arriving and everything was going very well. I was mostly silent, until Wendy and her mother arrived, and the wine flowed freely, although I only had a little champagne. As the evening wore on and everyone (aunt Martine, uncle Pierre, another aunt and uncle Regis, Wendy, her mother Patty (?), Julien and his parents, and a friend name Mado) began to get a little drunk. It was hardly surprising, since no one had an empty glass for long. Eventually, as far as I could tell, the conversation devolved into yelling, insults, innuendo, and inside jokes. Although I did have a good time, I was very uncomfortable at certain points in the evening, since although our family can be loud and gregarious, even we rarely reach the level of crude language that I observed that night.
It's a little hard to describe exaclty what was said, though, because aside from Julien, Wendy, his parents, and her mother, the rest of the party all had incredibly thick accents. The pronunication of "-in" and "-ain" especially, since those tended to become what sounded like "-aing". Nevertheless, I had a very good time. I even ate an entire plate of mussels, and found them absolutely delightful, although I had to ignore a little voice in my head that, oddly enough, sounded a lot like Dad's. It was saying something about bivalves and their ecological role......
The next day, although the party had apparently lasted until 4 am (I went to bed early....at 1), Julien and his parents were all up before I was, at 9 am. We had breakfast, and then left for what I assumed would be leisurely stroll along a shaded path in search of some native edible mushrooms. As it turns out, mushroom collecting involves rather a lot of bending, poking at rocks that look like mushrooms but then turn out not to be mushrooms, and getting hit in the face with various spiny branches. Also, it takes four hours of continuous marching, and although it can get to be very warm, you cannot take off your long-sleeved jacket because there are spines on every plant that you encounter. I came back with many war wounds, but I think they give me character. Eventually I did manage to spot some mushrooms that they actually wanted. I found ceps and oronges. After our mushroom death hike, we returned to taste the spoils of victory. Paricularly, the orange spoils of victory. Victory tastes like mild, yet flavorful, mushroomy goodness. It is also nutty, and especially delicious when tossed with olive oil and salt and pepper and baked for about 15 minutes. All in all, from what Julien reported, we found about 30 ceps and around 50 oronges. Of those, 5 were my contribution. After that, Julien took me to run an errand for his work, which turned out to be a visit to the local winery. I even got to see the room with the big tanks; I also learned that wine smells much better after it has been made and bottled.
I must have acquitted myself admirably, because I was invited by Julien's parents to return whenever I wished, and they also apologized for Julien, since he hadn't adequately prepared me for the the Night of the Vulgar Relatives. I assured them of my immense gratitude and promised to return as often as I could. We arrived home on Sunday night with a new fridge, since apparently up until now Julien (and his previous roommates) have been getting by with a mini fridge that is smaller than the one I took to college. He had to turn around and leave almost immediately for an event that I still don't fully understand. From what I gathered, Julien's restaurant was participating in a soccer tournament with other restaurants who have the same Michelin guide rating (3 stars). Although he wasn't playing, Julien was going along as a supporter: his job was to dress up in a costume of a big pink pig wearing a chef's outfit. I'm really hoping there are pictures.
Unfortunately I didn't have a camera with me in Provence, but I do have some photos of the Valence area that Wendy took on our outing to the chapel that is located in the middle of the Paul Jabolet Aine vineyards, so I have attached those. The guy pouring water into cups is Julien. There is also one photo of me in Provence that Wendy took at the market. I did get a chance to draw the bed and breakfast/house, and I'm quite proud of it. Also, it may be interesting for some of you to know that the garden at Julien's parents' house smelled exactly like grandma's. It was wonderful to be outside in a foreign country in a strange place and to smell an aroma that is so comforting and familiar. The scenery is essentially one giant postcard picture waiting to be taken, so the next time I go I promise to get some pictures.
There will be a two-week school holiday after next week, so I may be going to Nice for a few days. Also, I think (although I'm not entirely sure) that I have been signed up to attend a night of Cameroonian food and music with Julien and his friends. We'll see what happens with that.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Aletheia and the Garden of Eden
In order to improve my French skills I started reading all the young adult novels that I could find on Amazon in French. So far this has amounted to the 'Golden Compass' series by Philip Pullman and the Harry Potter books. I haven't looked at the Pullman books since I was pretty young. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but it was definitely pre-puberty. But in re-reading them I discovered that 'aletheia' actually plays a huge role in the books, and I am pretty excited to find out where this is going. I'm only through the second book, so I'll have to wait to post something more extensive later on about what exactly is going on here. OMG Heidegger??
What's fascinating about reading these books again is realizing how much propaganda is slipped into these kinds of stories. I mean, the Golden Compass books have villain named Mrs. Coulter for Christ's sake. It's really interesting, though, that all of this went over my head when I was younger. Or rather, it was incorporated into my thinking without my being aware of it. That makes me think that writing for children as an adult must be extremely difficult. I'm not surprised so many writers end up sounding clunky and unconvinving; it's really hard to gauge how much information you have to put into a story in order to get your ideas across. As adults it's really hard to step outside of our experiences long enough to remember what it was like when we didn't know so much. Actually, that's a little misguided. We don't know all that much more about anything than the average 12-year-old, and maybe that understanding is what is required in order to write a meaningful book for kids. I don't really know, though.
What I do know is that these books really impress me. I mean really. There's more philosophy and morality in these stories than in ten of my most recent philosophy papers; they have been seamlessly (mostly) integrated into riveting stories and thus carry more weight and persuasive power than many of the more rigorously presented arguments. This format is argument, morality tale, and indoctrination in its purest form. But this isn't some kind of diatribe against these stories, mostly because this is nothing new. The stories societies tell children are some their most revealing social artifacts. I mean, these are not the idle products of bored individuals looking to distract kids; these are the transmitters of cultural norms, philosophies, ways of understanding the world and a way to teach them what is appropriate and inappropriate in social interaction. So it's not all that surprising that we get these wars about what books are appropriate for kids, although the whole 'Harry Potter will turn our kids into Wiccans' arguments seems a bit misguided. I did grow up right around the time that those books came out, though, and a lot of my high school friends ended up being into Wicca. Correlation? I hope not.
I mean, kids can tell the difference between fantasy and the 'real' world (although adults apparently cannot...) and learning the difference is part of growing up in our culture. I am intrigued by books that offer more 'conservative' values and lessons, although I can only think of a few. The 'Left Behind' series, for example. Maybe the C.S. Lewis books? What I'd really like to know is whether children read as much these days as they did in the past. If not, what are the transmitters of values these days? If it isn't books, it must be television and films. A lot of people freak out about the kinds of programs that are available for kids these days, and bemoan the impending deterioration of society. It's like the latest hobby. But I don't think that we will all end up killing each other just because 'Hannah Montana' is more popular than the 'Goosebumps' series (anyone remember that shit? Absolutely awful...).
In fact, the quality of the cultural product is going to be the significant factor here. A terrible book is not superior to a really good television show. T.V. is another way of telling a story, imparting a value, and it can be just as effective. This is not to say that I am hoping that reading disappears, or that I think it will. Books probably will, though. I'm just saying. I'm stocking up for that eventuality, though. When books are finally replaced by 'Kindles' or whatever my house is gonna be like a museum of archaic forms of reading.
So I guess the point of this is that telling stories to kids has been around for millenia and it's not going anywhere so everyone who is freaking out about the fact that kids are watching too much T.V. should get themselves a laptop and should start writing a decent kid's show. Seriously. Anything that doesn't involve Miley Cyrus has to be a good place to start.
What's fascinating about reading these books again is realizing how much propaganda is slipped into these kinds of stories. I mean, the Golden Compass books have villain named Mrs. Coulter for Christ's sake. It's really interesting, though, that all of this went over my head when I was younger. Or rather, it was incorporated into my thinking without my being aware of it. That makes me think that writing for children as an adult must be extremely difficult. I'm not surprised so many writers end up sounding clunky and unconvinving; it's really hard to gauge how much information you have to put into a story in order to get your ideas across. As adults it's really hard to step outside of our experiences long enough to remember what it was like when we didn't know so much. Actually, that's a little misguided. We don't know all that much more about anything than the average 12-year-old, and maybe that understanding is what is required in order to write a meaningful book for kids. I don't really know, though.
What I do know is that these books really impress me. I mean really. There's more philosophy and morality in these stories than in ten of my most recent philosophy papers; they have been seamlessly (mostly) integrated into riveting stories and thus carry more weight and persuasive power than many of the more rigorously presented arguments. This format is argument, morality tale, and indoctrination in its purest form. But this isn't some kind of diatribe against these stories, mostly because this is nothing new. The stories societies tell children are some their most revealing social artifacts. I mean, these are not the idle products of bored individuals looking to distract kids; these are the transmitters of cultural norms, philosophies, ways of understanding the world and a way to teach them what is appropriate and inappropriate in social interaction. So it's not all that surprising that we get these wars about what books are appropriate for kids, although the whole 'Harry Potter will turn our kids into Wiccans' arguments seems a bit misguided. I did grow up right around the time that those books came out, though, and a lot of my high school friends ended up being into Wicca. Correlation? I hope not.
I mean, kids can tell the difference between fantasy and the 'real' world (although adults apparently cannot...) and learning the difference is part of growing up in our culture. I am intrigued by books that offer more 'conservative' values and lessons, although I can only think of a few. The 'Left Behind' series, for example. Maybe the C.S. Lewis books? What I'd really like to know is whether children read as much these days as they did in the past. If not, what are the transmitters of values these days? If it isn't books, it must be television and films. A lot of people freak out about the kinds of programs that are available for kids these days, and bemoan the impending deterioration of society. It's like the latest hobby. But I don't think that we will all end up killing each other just because 'Hannah Montana' is more popular than the 'Goosebumps' series (anyone remember that shit? Absolutely awful...).
In fact, the quality of the cultural product is going to be the significant factor here. A terrible book is not superior to a really good television show. T.V. is another way of telling a story, imparting a value, and it can be just as effective. This is not to say that I am hoping that reading disappears, or that I think it will. Books probably will, though. I'm just saying. I'm stocking up for that eventuality, though. When books are finally replaced by 'Kindles' or whatever my house is gonna be like a museum of archaic forms of reading.
So I guess the point of this is that telling stories to kids has been around for millenia and it's not going anywhere so everyone who is freaking out about the fact that kids are watching too much T.V. should get themselves a laptop and should start writing a decent kid's show. Seriously. Anything that doesn't involve Miley Cyrus has to be a good place to start.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Philosophy is dead, long live philosophy
Being inspired at 10:30 this morning, I should write down my caffeine-fueled thoughts before I sink back into the malaise of the past week.
What worries me this morning is the rapidity with which Foucault was incorporated into the discipline of philosophy, if indeed he was ever actually outside of it. True, he worked with history and sociology, dabbling into psychology and criminology, but the uniting of these with philosophy is not unprecedented. Indeed, Foucault was always working in an inter-disciplinary framework, which keeps him situated squarely in the realm of the disciplines. If Foucault himself could not get outside of the system, who is to say that anyone can?
If his aim was to give a sort of call to arms to the next generation of theorists, then it seems that the incorporation of his work into the canon of Continental philosophy would make him roll over in his grave. Today we study him as the descendant of several different theorists, Althusser and Nietzsche, etc, and can thus work around the thornier parts of his theory to all the more easily categorize and shelve him, making his ideas safer and more palatable. Maybe the failing was Foucault's, and he did not go far enough in his work; it is also possible that he essentially attempted the impossible, using theory to critique theory itself. We may ask too much from philosophy, more than it can ever hope to give.
I suppose this is the crux of my rambling. The latest fad in philosophy is not the sincere attempt to find truth and the good, it is instead this sort of jaded post-philosophy and self-referential stuff that we see everywhere in 'post-modernism'. It is of course just one expression of a larger trend, one that I know did not actually start with philosophy itself. Abstract painting, modernist literature...these began working on the same ideas that would come to characterize a Foucault or a Derrida. Not that there is anything wrong with a moving away from truth and absolutes; I know that we have moved, as a civilization, beyond these things in a certain way. The larger cultural forces are beginning to pick up on this, although they will always be several decades behind the theoretical advances (after all, modernist beliefs still dominate our thinking for the most part). I really like the work that has been done in recent years, and I look forward to where we are headed; I do wonder, though, where it will be possible to go from here. What is the next step?
This is not a 'woe-is-me, philosophy is dead' post...I don't claim to be able to see the end of philosophy approaching. After all, people have been proclaiming that the end of philosophy is approaching since the first philosopher appeared, I'm sure. If there is one thing that history can teach us, it's that humans are too crafty and bored to be content with any answer for too long. What I am interested in, is whether something like Foucault's project could ever fully succeed. What would that success look like, and how would we bring it about? I wonder if all this world-weariness in philosophy could be holding us back....
Of course, I'm not suggesting a return to Aristotle or Kant; knowing that philosophy will and must be produced that is in keeping with its time. We cannot return to those ages, or return to their concerns and priorities; all that we can do is to continue moving slowly, whether the movement is a spiraling upward, downward, or a mere shifting from side to side.
Part of my concern is my ability to find my place in a field about which I am completely ambivalent. I shift from loving philosophy to hating it so often in a day that I no longer bother keeping track. I know that I don't have the kind of mind that can create new systems or uncover old ones, and I have made my peace with this. But right now I am looking to do something in this field that wouldn't feel like following an instruction manual written by someone else. Toiling is fine with me, and I enjoyed immensely the pop-culture, cultural studies work that I've done, but I have this nagging feeling that I'm missing out on something.
So I wonder still, where do we go from here?
This wandered a bit, and I didn't attempt to rein it in. I know that only one person reads this thing anyway (two if I count my co-poster) so I'm sure my dear reader won't mind very much.
What worries me this morning is the rapidity with which Foucault was incorporated into the discipline of philosophy, if indeed he was ever actually outside of it. True, he worked with history and sociology, dabbling into psychology and criminology, but the uniting of these with philosophy is not unprecedented. Indeed, Foucault was always working in an inter-disciplinary framework, which keeps him situated squarely in the realm of the disciplines. If Foucault himself could not get outside of the system, who is to say that anyone can?
If his aim was to give a sort of call to arms to the next generation of theorists, then it seems that the incorporation of his work into the canon of Continental philosophy would make him roll over in his grave. Today we study him as the descendant of several different theorists, Althusser and Nietzsche, etc, and can thus work around the thornier parts of his theory to all the more easily categorize and shelve him, making his ideas safer and more palatable. Maybe the failing was Foucault's, and he did not go far enough in his work; it is also possible that he essentially attempted the impossible, using theory to critique theory itself. We may ask too much from philosophy, more than it can ever hope to give.
I suppose this is the crux of my rambling. The latest fad in philosophy is not the sincere attempt to find truth and the good, it is instead this sort of jaded post-philosophy and self-referential stuff that we see everywhere in 'post-modernism'. It is of course just one expression of a larger trend, one that I know did not actually start with philosophy itself. Abstract painting, modernist literature...these began working on the same ideas that would come to characterize a Foucault or a Derrida. Not that there is anything wrong with a moving away from truth and absolutes; I know that we have moved, as a civilization, beyond these things in a certain way. The larger cultural forces are beginning to pick up on this, although they will always be several decades behind the theoretical advances (after all, modernist beliefs still dominate our thinking for the most part). I really like the work that has been done in recent years, and I look forward to where we are headed; I do wonder, though, where it will be possible to go from here. What is the next step?
This is not a 'woe-is-me, philosophy is dead' post...I don't claim to be able to see the end of philosophy approaching. After all, people have been proclaiming that the end of philosophy is approaching since the first philosopher appeared, I'm sure. If there is one thing that history can teach us, it's that humans are too crafty and bored to be content with any answer for too long. What I am interested in, is whether something like Foucault's project could ever fully succeed. What would that success look like, and how would we bring it about? I wonder if all this world-weariness in philosophy could be holding us back....
Of course, I'm not suggesting a return to Aristotle or Kant; knowing that philosophy will and must be produced that is in keeping with its time. We cannot return to those ages, or return to their concerns and priorities; all that we can do is to continue moving slowly, whether the movement is a spiraling upward, downward, or a mere shifting from side to side.
Part of my concern is my ability to find my place in a field about which I am completely ambivalent. I shift from loving philosophy to hating it so often in a day that I no longer bother keeping track. I know that I don't have the kind of mind that can create new systems or uncover old ones, and I have made my peace with this. But right now I am looking to do something in this field that wouldn't feel like following an instruction manual written by someone else. Toiling is fine with me, and I enjoyed immensely the pop-culture, cultural studies work that I've done, but I have this nagging feeling that I'm missing out on something.
So I wonder still, where do we go from here?
This wandered a bit, and I didn't attempt to rein it in. I know that only one person reads this thing anyway (two if I count my co-poster) so I'm sure my dear reader won't mind very much.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
How many ways to say "Yes": Socrates' Notebook
An excerpt from the notes of Socrates:
How to creatively affirm
1. Yes
2. Quite so
3. Indeed
4. Foresooth
5. Who could object?
6. You are quite right
7. I do not see how it could not be so
8. Only the Gods could object
9. Without a doubt
10. How could it be otherwise?
11. One would have to be a fool.
12. Obviously so
13. I have no role in this dialogue except saying 'yes', so I will say 'yes'
How to creatively affirm
1. Yes
2. Quite so
3. Indeed
4. Foresooth
5. Who could object?
6. You are quite right
7. I do not see how it could not be so
8. Only the Gods could object
9. Without a doubt
10. How could it be otherwise?
11. One would have to be a fool.
12. Obviously so
13. I have no role in this dialogue except saying 'yes', so I will say 'yes'
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