Saturday, April 25, 2015

Movie Review: Lucy


Lucy (2014)

Two and half Stars out of Five

R

Lucy: Scarlett Johansson
Professor Norman: Morgan Freeman
Mr. Chang: Min-Sik Choi
Pierre Del Rio: Amr Waked

Director/Writer: Luc Besson

Lucy is a disappointing amalgam of film genre: science fiction, comedy, kung-fu, mobster, revenge, and even philosophical/science. It will come as little surprise that trying to achieve so much, the movie largely fails to deliver on any of the various channels. The movie does not even really provide much in the way of eye candy with respect to the various special effects either. This movie can easily be skipped, but if you really want to know what it is about, read on.

The film begins with a scene from early in the history of the hominids, presumably Lucy herself. She sits in a stream and while looking fearfully about drinks from it. Moving forward in time, we meet a modern Lucy (Scarlett Johansson) being accosted by her disreputable boyfriend outside a swanky Taipei hotel. Against her better wishes, at the behest of her boyfriend she enters the hotel to deliver a package to a Mr. Chang (Mik-Sik Choi). He turns out to be a gangster and drug king pin. Lucy quickly finds herself a drug-mule for Mr. Chang. However, the drug bag sewn into abdomen ruptures, and like every B sci-fi movie from the 50’s, rather than dying from the effects of the drug, she becomes enhanced. Wielding her new, God-like powers she begins a campaign of revenge aimed at Mr. Chang. Along the way, she hooks up with Professor Norman (Morgan Freeman). While she was enjoying Taiwan, he had been lecturing an adoring audience of how little humans used their minds, and if only they could use more, life would be so sweet. Lucy having now proven his thesis wants to explain to him all she now knows. Meanwhile, having disrupted his drug empire, Mr. Chang wants to pay her back. And it is just so hard to predict what will happen in Paris when they all get there: guns, explosions, cars driving the wrong way, and creepy visual effects for the new Miss Lucy.

To its credit, the movie has two fine scenes with Ms. Johansson showing her skills as an actor, and also indicating what this movie might have been had M. Besson stuck to a single movie genre. In the first, as Lucy realizes the danger she is in with Mr. Chang, she acts out just how pitiful a situation she quickly realizes she has fallen into. Johansson displays a believable role as a helpless young woman, one that seems likely to die very soon. Later after having escaped and as she perceives her changing status from that as a young woman into something far different, she makes a tearful call to her mother. Using the opportunity that science fiction offers her in this situation she tells her mom she remembers everything: from being held and nursed by her mother to a lifetime’s thousands of kisses from her mom. It was moving and compassionate, and could only happen in the otherwise unbelievable situation the fantasy elements of this story permit her character to experience.

Luc Besson has made a number of movies that span a variety of genre. He has been perhaps the most commercially successful with his Taken and Transporter franchises: kinetic, fight scene/car chase drivel that make large amounts of money and have little to say beyond the idea of righteous revenge. Due to his earlier movies such as Subway, The Big Blue, or even Nikita, he has been classed as a member of the “Cinema du Look”, a film school that favors style over substance. One could easily perceive such influences within Lucy.  During the opening scenes of Lucy being cornered by her boyfriend and then by Mr. Chang, wildlife scenes of a gazelle being hunted by a cheetah are intercut with the human scenes of her deteriorating situation with Mr. Chang. Is this a stylistic touch or an attempt at humor; it seems more the latter to me than the former. And that is the fundamental problem with the movie. Besson’s intent with the movie is so watered down by the various genre shifts and/or stylistic flourishes; the movie just degenerates to the level of the pointless car chase that occurs near the end of the movie. What does the car chase mean; oh yeah, just like the movie: nothing.

Had Besson really wanted to explore what it is that makes Man the creature he is; to explore the limits and opportunities of the mind, he had the framework of a movie that could have made a film worth experiencing. The concept of how much of the human mind is actually used and what might happen to the human that had her mind expanded, what happens to her humanness is a subject worth exploring. But explore it sans gangsters with machine guns, TOW anti-tank weapons and pseudo-science lectures. Lucy is not that movie and should be skipped by anyone not solely interested in car chases that end with police cars flying through the air.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Movie Review: The Tree of Life


The Tree of Life (2011)

Four and half Stars out of Five

PG13

Mr. O’Brien (Father): Brad Pitt
Mrs. O’Brien (Mother): Jessica Chastain
Adult Jack: Sean Penn
Young Jack: Hunter McCracken

Director/Writer: Terrence Malick
Cinematography Director:  Emmanuel  Lubezki
Music: Alexandre Desplat
Film Editing: Hank Corwin et. al.

Terrence Malik has directed six movies with “The Tree of Life” being his fifth. His topics have ranged from John Smith and Pocahontas (“The New World”), to WWII (“The Thin Red Line”), to romance (“Days of Heaven”), to a romantic art film (“To The Wonder”). “The Tree of Life” has its own genre, one not usually seen in Hollywood: religious/philosophical/nostalgic.  “The Tree of Life” has been widely praised (it is on many Top 100 lists, won the Palme D’Or in Cannes, and is listed as the best picture ever by several critics), and widely panned. It is one of the most ambitious movies I have ever seen, but perhaps in a final analysis, it is a little too ambitious with its message.

The movie is told in four parts: the death of the O’Brien family’s second son, RL; the birth of the universe and of life on Earth; the birth and early life of Jack O’Brien (the first born child of the O’Brien’s) in Waco Texas, and a slice of time in the middle-aged years of Jack. The seemingly unrelated segments are linked by the philosophical and religious underpinnings to this story. The underpinnings at first glance seem to reduce to the eternal question: what is God’s intent with respect to Man. But then it has a second philosophical question to address: what is Man’s intent and his means with respect to Life.

The first question is strongly alluded to with a quote from the Bible’s Book of Job: “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the Earth? When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for Joy?” Throughout this movie, various players within the movie are overheard asking questions, apparently to God the Father, but conceivably in some cases to their own father or mother. There is within the story’s overall structure a frequent sense of being disconnected from a powerful, perhaps loving parental figure. There is a near constant questing for answers, for a sense of understanding to the question of why we are here, and where are we going. The second part of the story, the part that depicts the formation of solar systems and then of life, provides a literal answer on the “how” of why-we-are-here, but of course leaves the “why” question unanswered. Near the end of the film as the adult Jack has a vision, we see the expansion of our sun into a Red Giant and the end of the Earth; thus, we see the physical answer to the where-are-we-going question. We see this even further defined in the last parts of Jack’s vision as he walks amongst the dead on a beach.

In the third part of the story, we are told the explanation to a topic first brought up by Mrs. O’Brien (Jessica Chastain) in the opening scenes of the movie: there are two paths in life for Man to follow, the path of grace or the path of nature. These paths of nature versus grace are first suggested in the second part of the movie, the part that illustrates the origin of life. We observe a dinosaur that “compassionately” does not kill a second dinosaur that is at the mercy of the first. Instead, it would seem this dinosaur chooses the path of grace. The metaphor is greatly expanded in the third part of the movie wherein the early life of Jack, his two brothers and his parents are depicted in Waco. That his mother is clearly the human icon for the path of Grace, while his father is the icon for the path of nature is made abundantly clear. Mr. O’Brien (Brad Pitt) made a choice early in his life to turn away from music for engineering. He has not become successful in this field and as a result carries a heavy burden of shame. After having been a stern father to Jack and his brothers and having lost his engineering job, Mr. O’Brien questions his own worth to Jack; Jack (having chosen the same path in life) rushes to reassure his father. Mrs. O’Brien has in the meanwhile been shown to be a person captivated by the joy of life as it surrounds her, and specifically in the joy of her three children.

Besides the philosophical aspects of the story, Malick himself grew up in 1950’s Waco Texas. For those of us that also grew up in this era, it is entertaining to watch the third part of the movie for the little details of life in the 50’s: the physical details like the beaded belts worn by little boys, or the bigger picture such as the sense of safety that permits people to leave their front doors unlocked or their children to walk home alone from school. The family life of the O’Brien family struck me as one not too atypical for life in the 50’s and early 60’s. The father works during the day, the mother stays at home to wash, clean, and cook. The father is a stern disciplinarian that walks a fine line between loving his children and guiding his children; the mother is there to pick up the pieces when the father crosses too far over the line into discipline. The movie makes much of the father’s delicate dance between his two desires towards the children, while the mother universally keeps to her single –minded path of love, of grace.

The final part of the movie is surely a complicated part. We see the adult Jack dealing with the passing of his younger brother and also with the upbringing he had at the hands of his father. To be sure, Jack was raised by both of his parents, but as he states in the movie, he is just like his father; he has chosen the path of nature. On the anniversary of the passing of RL, the adult Jack (Sean Penn) is filled with remorse; remorse for the lost little brother that “trusted him” (even when he shouldn’t have), remorse over a sterile marriage, and remorse over an unhappy life; a life buried in the stainless steel and glass canyons of Dallas – very far from his bucolic childhood in Waco. With his little brother dead and seemingly his loving mother, too, Jack is searching again for the answer to the big question raised by this movie; that is the meaning of life. Fortunately for Jack, he has a vision of walking through a portal in the desert. He meets his mother and his little brother once again. He sees many people on a beach, apparently happy and satisfied. Jack returns from his vision with a smile on his face.

This movie is gorgeous in both visual and musical imagery. Apparently, Malik chose to minimize the use of CGI and to use older techniques in order to create his vision of the origin of the universe and life (presumably this did not extend to the various dinosaurs depicted). That Malik had a vision for this movie and that he exercised his considerable skills to bring it to life cannot be doubted by anyone that has seen this movie. The only failure in the story from my point of view is that the viewer can sense Malik’s desire to send a profound message of hope and joy found by one path through life versus the despair and self-doubt to be found by the other path. I believe I can see and understand his message, but I was strangely unmoved by it. At a time in my life where I can be brought to tears by animated movies such as “Up”, I was simply not feeling the emotion I am sure Malik himself felt in writing and directing this movie. In the final analysis though, and despite being a scientist that has also largely chosen the path of nature, I concede his point. The path chosen and symbolized by the mother figure, Mrs. O’Brien, and so beautifully shown in the scene of her smilingly holding a butterfly is surely a wonderful and happy path to take in life. Is it the only way to understand and be content with the universe is a question I am not certain is so clearly true. I believe there are several ways to shout with joy for the universe.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Movie Review: Cinderella


Cinderella (2015)

Four Stars out of Five

PG

Cate Blanchet: Lady Tremaine, Step-mother
Lily James: Cinderella
Richard Madden: The Prince
Helena Bonham Carter: Fairy Godmother

Director: Kenneth Branagh
Writer: Chris Weitz
Cinematography Director:  Haris Zambarloukos
Art Direction: Gary Freeman and Leslie Tomkins
Costume: Sandy Powell

For most Americans and perhaps for most of the contemporary world, the story of Cinderella is likely best known by Disney’s 1950 animated classic, “Cinderella”. Cinderella’s story is however actually a mythic archetype with hundreds of films, plays and ballets that depict the theme of unjust persecution and/or someone suddenly achieving recognition. The earliest known version of this story goes back to the 7th century BC and the tale of a Greek slave girl (Rhodopsis) who eventually marries an Egyptian pharaoh. Her story first appeared as a written version in 1634 as told by the Italian folklorist Giambattista Bastile. Charles Perrault wrote the French version in 1697 and the Brothers Grim wrote a characteristically grim version in German in 1812. In 2015 Disney has released a marvelous new live action movie based to a great extent on the Perrault version. Director Kenneth Branagh has worked with writer Chris Weitz to craft a story that abandons the simplistic romantic and cartoon elements of barnyard creatures and anthropomorphic mice of the 1950’s Disney movie for a story that leans heavily on many of the mythic elements of a persecuted heroine, and to do it in a style that emphasizes steadfastness and grace in contrast to the more typical early 21st century archetype of female heroines as warrior maidens.

Disney’s new Cinderella begins with the ten year old Ella (Eloise Webb) living an idyllic life with her loving mother (Hayley Atwell) and endlessly travelling, merchant father (Ben Chaplin). Making use of the time-hallowed Disney trope of parental death, the now grown and newly orphaned Ella (Lily James) falls under the control of her malevolent step-mother, Lady Tremaine (Cate Blanchett). These early sequences were with few exceptions the weakest part of the movie. The story seems to rush to the inevitable situation where Ella, formerly middle classed-wealthy and loved, is now forced into her scullion role as Cinderella by Lady Tremaine and her two vacuous daughters, Drisella (Sophie McShera – like Lily James, a Downton Abbey alumnus) and Anastasia (Holiday Grainger). The movie’s deepest flaw shows up in this first reel. It isn’t the weak acting during Ella’s mother’s death scene, or the endlessly used (by Disney) parental deaths, but instead it is the mother’s dying advice to Ella: “Have courage, and be kind”. That such advice goes far to explain Cinderella’s later tolerance for her step-family’s evil and that it may be easily digested and not necessarily bad advice to a six year old (Disney’s target audience?), it is a missed opportunity for the movie to get to the heart of the Cinderella story: courage, yes; but more to the point than kindness, tolerance and reconciliation as a form of grace – harder concepts to explain, but worthy of the effort.

Gorgeously dressed in her signature green, her face in shadows, Blanchett first appears as Lady Tremaine. She gracefully enters Ella’s home in a scene that is a highlight of the movie's first reel. However, the movie really starts to come alive when Ella now Cinderella meets the Prince (Richard Madden) for the first time. She is riding in the forest while he is hunting with his men. They circle one another, talking, learning about each other. She tries to convince him to drop the hunt; he tries to find out who she is. The scene is charming and works very well due to the actors’ acting and Branagh’s staging. It is a classic “meet cute”, but it works so well, I found it to be the best scene in the movie. During the remainder of the second and third reels, the movie follows roughly the Perrault version of the story. The King (Derek Jacobi) wants his son to marry, and so the son agrees to a ball wherein he will find a princess to marry. The Tremaine’s seek to prevent Cinderella’s attendance, but via the intervention of her fairy god-mother (Helena Bonham Carter), Cinderella obtains a beautiful blue dress, a comically-created pumpkin coach and various animal-cum-coachman/footmen assistants. She arrives at the ball, does a little dancing and falling in love, escapes with one shoe, and is ultimately found again and married to the Prince. Several key dramatic elements during this montage include Cinderella’s confrontation with Lady Tremaine, where she learns source of Lady Tremaine’s pain and thus, her evil. And even more significantly, we see at the end of the movie, Ella’s embrace of her new name of Cinderella and her “pardon” of the two step-sisters.

There are technical elements to the movie that make seeing the movie worth the effort all on their own: scenery, art and costume design, sound and direction. They are all Oscar-worthy efforts. Consider Blanchett’s and Cinderella’s dress design. Lady Tremaine’s are so beautiful, she could be mistaken as a heroine herself, except for that pesky envious color of green. James’ blue gown for the ball and her white one for the wedding really have to be seen to be believed. (Odd topics for a guy like me to comment on, but they really are spectacular costumes.) The art design for the exterior shots of the castle and the cinematography of the interior shots during the ball are profoundly good. All of these non-dramatic, artistic elements are significant additions to the movie.

With respect to the thrust of the myth and that of the movie there is a delicate balance for any writer and director. The mythic elements, those parts that make this story timeless and accessible across the world must be in the movie and easily accessed by the viewer. Yet, the movie must be current in order to be a commercial success. This movie largely does both. This Cinderella does accept her reduced condition under Lady Tremaine, she maintains her tolerance of Lady Tremaine’s ruined heart, and she does demand an explanation from Lady Tremaine. But significantly she also keeps to her dreams, breaking down only when all seems lost. That she loves the Prince, and he loves her cannot be in question, and as such, this telling of the Cinderella story stays true to the ideals of a heroine who is unjustly persecuted, achieves her unforeseen success and who has a heart big enough, one kind enough to reconcile with her tormentors.

A good story, one for the ages; and still in the words of Perrault: “beauty is a treasure, but graciousness is priceless”. And to paraphrase his final comments on the moral of the story: “It’s pretty convenient to have a magical, fairy godmother, too.”


Thursday, April 2, 2015

Book Review: Under the Banner of Heaven by Jon Krakauer


Under the Banner of Heaven, a Study of Violent Faith (2003)

Three Stars out of Five

Jon Krakauer

Jon Krakauer started his professional writing career in the early 1980’s by writing about his passion: mountain climbing. Following his work as a journalist/writer for Outside magazine in 1983 and his collection of essays in book form in 1990, he began writing full length non-fiction books with “Into the Wild” in 1996 (made into a magnificent movie in 2007) and “Into Thin Air” in 1997. Both of these books were on the NY Times Best Seller list for months; in fact “Into Thin Air” was on the short list for the Pulitzer Prize in 1998. His third book is “Under the Banner of Heaven” (2003), a recounting of a violent crime that is told in the context of the history of the Mormons (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints – LDS) and contrasted to various modern polygamous sects that trace some of their philosophical roots to the LDS church. One can see Krakauer’s evolution as a writer through these three books, and in the case of the first two, one can see a connection of subject matter; but consider the leap from mountaineering and the outdoor life in the early writing to placing a double murder by two evidently deranged religious zealots in the context of the history for a major religious movement. This is a risky leap in direction; it begs controversy from non-Mormons and the Mormon faithful alike.

 Krakauer begins the book with a re-telling of the brutal murder of a young mother and her toddler daughter. She was Brenda Lafferty, married to the youngest of the Lafferty brothers, a self-contained group of anti-tax/polygamous worshiping (if not practicing) lapsed Mormons. The elder two brothers Ron and Dan entered Allen and Brenda’s home in 1984 while Allen was away at work. Dan murdered Brenda, while Ron killed Erica, the eighteen month-old baby (though Dan asserts he killed the child too, there is contrary court testimony given on this point). The older Laffertys blamed Brenda for disrupting their plans for a polygamous lifestyle via her influence over Allen and Ron’s estranged wife. How Ron a former pillar of the mainstream LDS community in the Provo region got to the point of murder and how he explained his behavior via the established Mormon practice of revelation (talking to God) is the purpose of Krakauer’s book.

From Krakauer’s point of view, he needs to detail the history of Mormons from their origins in New York to their establishment in the Utah Territory. Their story begins in 1823 with revelations from God to Joseph Smith via the angel Moroni and a set of golden tablets. These tablets told the story of an ancient people that left Palestine for the New World. Smith published the book in 1830 and named it for the original historian that wrote the book, Mormon. With his holy book, Smith formed a new church, the Church of Christ. Smith grew his church via missionaries and ultimately left New York for Jackson County MO. Smith’s new church experienced repeated problems in Missouri, and eventually moved to Illinois where they founded Nauvoo. By 1844 Nauvoo was a prosperous community but it had due to several reasons (the Mormon tendency towards economic insularity, their different interpretation of the Bible’s primacy  vis-a-via the Book of Mormon,  plus the new revelation by Smith as regards polygamy) created a renewed level of anger and resentment by the surrounding non-Mormon community. The issue of polygamy had also started a major split within the LDS church: not all were in favor of it, and some were in fact strenuously opposed to it. One such opponent began printing an opposing newspaper. When Smith ordered the press to be destroyed, he was arrested and jailed in Carthage IL by the non-LDS community. While he was incarcerated, he was with the willing participation of his jailers, murdered on 27Jun1844. This brought to a head who would lead the LDS church following Smith, the polygamous group led by Brigam Young or an opposing, anti-polygamous group led by Smith’s younger brother.

Young won that battle, though the church did split into two groups: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and the Community of Christ. Young’s much larger group came to the conclusion that they needed to move out of the control of the US government, who they felt was at best indifferent to the safety of the Saints (as they self-identified), or at worst, actively persecuting them.  Thus they chose to move to the Utah Territory, then-governed by Mexico. They named their new land, Deseret after a self-named desert bee, which Young felt to always be busy like his fellow Saints. Following the conclusion of the Mexican-American War on 2Feb1848, Utah Territory and the Mormons living there came under the governance of the US. Following years of contention between Young (and two of his successors) and the US government, the LDS Church leaders under Wilford Woodruff renounced polygamy on 23Sep1890. While this benefited the Utahns by allowing them to become a state six years later, it also precipitated another polygamy-based schism within the LDS church. The new schismatics often refer to themselves as Fundamental Latter Day Saints.

Krakauer includes within the book extensive sections describing various polygamous groups living in the United States, Canada and Mexico. Some of these groups are small like the Lafferty brothers, while some are quite large and well organized like the Arizona Strip group recently led by Warren Jeffs (now serving a 20 year prison sentence for child sexual assault). Krakauer does not have the organized and documented history of the LDS church to draw on when describing the various polygamous groups he investigates and as such uses various first-hand accounts from current and former members of these various “FLDS” groups. What he describes is little short of a reign of terror in many cases. These groups tend to be led by zealous true believers who far too often drift across the line from church leader into the realm of dictator. There really cannot be a softer term for men (and they are always men) that run their church and communities as their personal fiefdoms: dispensing wives and removing wives and their children from favored and recalcitrant members; or even worse, forcing fourteen old (if not younger) girls into such “marital” relationships. To find any trace of a democratic institution in these communities where all individuals have equal rights is a hopeless task.

It is my belief that Krakauer hoped with this book to show several things: the history of the Mormon Church, the origin and death of polygamy within that church, the birth of polygamy-based sects that broke away from the mother church, and the genesis of criminal and quite frankly psychotic behavior within these break-away groups. He does not suggest that the modern LDS church fosters or is complacent with these polygamous groups. He does take the church fathers to task for obscuring various contentious elements of Mormon history (e.g. Smith’s polygamy, the church’s endorsement of polygamy in the early days of the church, or the Mountain Meadow Massacre where 120 non-Mormon immigrants from Arkansas passing through Utah were murdered by a band of Mormons and Paiute Indians). He is very critical of the various polygamous groups that call themselves members of the Fundamentalist LDS Church, or even of the various groups that practice polygamy via the forced compliance these groups apply to young girls. The problem with the book is that by tackling the Lafferty murders, looking for a link to their religious zealotry to LDS fundamentalism (this term is offensive to mainstream members of the LDS church as they feel the FLDS members have no claim to the LDS part of their name), describing the history of the mainstream LDS church and then trying to create a link between these parts by asserting one can find a general basis for religiously based homicidal behavior is too ambitious for a single book; Krakauer fails to make the argument in this case. Further, by conflating the LDS history with a modern murder, he diverts attention from the Lafferty’s psychoses or indeed from a more general argument for such psychoses within the various polygamous groups, let alone within fundamentalist groups in general.

That the LDS church finds this book offensive is not a surprise. I cannot imagine any religion finding any pleasure in having their history linked to the murders committed by the two Lafferty brothers (and abetted by other members of the family – including the grandmother and husband/father of the deceased). That Krakauer argues for more openness from the LDS church about their history does not seem germane to his study of “violent faith”; that is to say the various extant polygamous groups. The biggest problem for me is that while I can see the outline of an argument that polygamous groups have the potential for violence and autocracy, this book does not make a good case for it except by using anecdotal evidence. To be sure, the anecdotes are revolting and disturbing, but they do not provide much more than a suggestion that there is an incontrovertible linkage between polygamy and violence. I greatly enjoyed Krakauer’s first two books, but feel he chose a subject he is not sufficiently versed in (psycho-social forces within religions and the psychology of homicide) to make a strong case for his point of view. This book has value in terms of its parts, but the sum of those parts is in this case is less, rather than more than the total.


Monday, March 30, 2015

Double Book Review: Biographies of Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson by Jon Meacham

 

American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House (2009)
Four and half Stars out of Five
Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power (2012)
Four Stars out of Five

Jon Meacham

Under Jon Meacham as editor-in-chief at Newsweek, that once popular but now gone news weekly achieved remarkable heights in terms of news analysis, rivaling even the current standard for such reporting, The Economist. Though Meacham is now a contributing editor at Time magazine, he also has also written four books and acted as the editor on two more, all with a focus on American history. His prose is fluid and agile, and generally provides a point of view towards his subjects that does not ignore their flaws. His greatest appeal to me as a reader is that unlike some other historians that produce books for the general public, Meacham always does a good job of analyzing the historical consequences of his subjects’ actions. Presumably Meacham chose to write books on Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson because of similarities in their impact on the modern presidency; certainly their natures and attitudes regarding most subjects beyond the importance of the presidency and the preservation of the Union could not be further apart. Because of this similarity in impact, this review will combine both books into a single review.

In Meacham’s latest book, “Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power”, Jon Meacham reveals much about Jefferson but also delineates two critical aspects of Meacham’s approach to the subject area. In a broad sense, history can be told to the general reading public in a variety of ways: for example, adversarial/muck raking, fawning hack summaries, neutral reporting, or in the case of Meacham a method that has been referred to in the NY Times as the Flawed Giant. That is to say, the subjects are persons of historical importance and while they certainly do not have feet of clay, they do have some flaws that must be investigated and explained as thoroughly as their strengths and successes. Consider for example the presidents under review in these two books:  both held slaves, Jefferson held quite hypocritical views on the topic of slavery, Jackson was equally dismissive of the rights for Native Americans, and both practiced campaign strategies that took little notice of former allegiances or respect for their adversaries’ reputations and true abilities, all in the name of getting themselves elected. Meacham covers all of this territory in the two books referenced above, and while he pays only a moderate amount of time on some of their flaws (e.g. Jefferson’s hypocrisy as regards his slave/mistress Sally Hemmings and their offspring working as his house servants), he goes into great depth in other areas of questionable behavior such as Jackson’s near self-destructive defense of his Secretary of War John Eaton and his wife, Peggy.

The second aspect of Meacham’s approach to politics is suggested in the title on Jefferson; that is to say, the “Art of Power”. Meacham’s view towards leading is that a level of pragmatism along with the more expected traits of decisiveness and strength of will is an essential aspect of running a democracy: this is shown to be the technique of Jefferson, and to stand in stark contrast with Jackson’s firmly held belief in his own vision. Even though some groups within modern America have done their best to demean "compromise" as a trait found only in weaklings, the ability to function as a politician, to find a middle way between two warring viewpoints is in fact according to Meacham’s analysis of Jefferson a key aspect to his success and impact on the office of the modern American presidency. According to Meacham, “…politics is an imperfect means to an altruistic end”; and by politics, he referring to compromise, to pragmatism. How these two presidents employed their own personal skills in politics is a central theme of both books.

In “Art of Power” (one of the 2012’s best according to the NY Times Book Review), Jon Meacham describes in modest detail the early life and influences on Thomas Jefferson, his writings (Declaration of Independence amongst others), his role in the Revolutionary War as the Virginia governor, his political life under George Washington, the endless battles with Alexander Hamilton and “neo-Monarchists” aka the Federalists, his years as president, and post-presidential years leading up to his reconciliation with John Adams and their near simultaneous deaths on the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence in 1826. His personal life is described by Meacham and shown how it was fraught with tragedy as his young wife and multiple offspring all met early deaths. Additionally discussed is how his intellectual life was one to be modeled by anyone: architect, scientist, agronomist, and politician. One area in the book I thought could have been enhanced would have been to better link how Jefferson’s personal experiences as son, husband, and father shaped his political thought processes. One could draw a conclusion from Meacham’s exploration of Jefferson that he came to his philosophies almost without influence from his personal life. This is the greatest weakness of the book for me.

Where the book does catches fire, was in Meacham’s summary of the 1790’s. During this era, the two party system starts to take shape and Meacham goes into great detail describing the political polarities of the time as well as the viciousness of the partisan politics (including a series egregious acts by Jefferson himself in his 1796 presidential race against Adams). The party Jefferson came to represent was an agrarian-centered/small government group of republicans, while John Adams (Jefferson’s former best friend and colleague) and Alexander Hamilton led and spoke for the Federalists, a strong central government party. To be certain, there were many leaders and members of each party beyond the three I list here. But I choose to focus (as does Meacham) on Adams due to his Revolutionary War alliances with Jefferson and on Hamilton, who for Jefferson came to represent an icon of political immorality as he (in Jefferson’s view) pushed hard for a movement back to monarchy. Much is made in the book on Jefferson’s near mania over his fears of a return to monarchy and how the average American of the time stood to lose in such a scenario. Were Jefferson’s fears exaggerated or real – this is an area on which I would have liked a two viewpoint discussion by Meacham. We get a clear idea of Jefferson’s view on the subject, but little non-partisan analysis on the Federalist viewpoint.

What we do get and enjoyably so, is several examples of Jefferson’s pragmatism. A good example was an early example of State needs versus those of the Federal government. In the early years following the Revolutionary War, about half the states were suffering from deep debts incurred during the war. Hamilton worked hard to get the Federal government to raise taxes in order to provide relief to the states. Jefferson with his small government mindset was firmly opposed to the taxes as well as to the idea that the Federal government would or should intrude on state issues (it was also opposed by his home state of Virginia, which was not in debt). Despite his strong opposition to the relief act (it had been argued against on Jefferson’s behalf by his longtime friend and political colleague, James Madison), Jefferson was able to reach a compromise with Hamilton and the Federalists. Other examples of Jefferson’s willingness to compromise his beliefs about government versus his great desire to protect and advance the American experiment are given throughout the book. The key was always in Jefferson’s analysis: do what was needed to protect and nurture the new American republic, even if that meant compromising your personal ideals.

In a contrasting manner, Meacham’s Pulitzer-prize winning book on Andrew Jackson, “American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House” goes into the life and times of our seventh president, by focusing on his approach to the presidency and his unstinting view point that his viewpoint, his vision of populism should guide the American government’s actions. And as with Jefferson, Meacham demonstrates how the nature of political campaigning have changed little in the near hundred and ninety years since Jackson's election in 1828. There were with the Jackson years a number of critical battles that took place (US Bank charter, federal tariff on imports, and the Eaton problem). The dogged manner in which Jackson pursued each of these problems were critical to how he expanded and shaped the office of the presidency; effects that linger into the 21st century.

Jackson began his professional life as a Nashville lawyer who later evolved into a planter, politician and militia officer. He began his private life by courting a married woman (Rachel Donelson Robards); he later married her, though questions about her legal eligibility for a new marriage were very much up in the air. Her death following his successful presidential campaign in 1828 provide a good view of Andrew Jackson’s approach to life. He fiercely loved and defended her, but felt the brutal attacks on her chastity during the campaign led in Jackson’s view to her early death. How Jackson responded in terms of ferocity and his permanent defense of his loved ones and allies versus his assault on his enemies gives an interesting contrast to Jefferson and his approach to political opponents: there was no mercy or compromise in Jackson; his enemies were enemies alone, and no grey was ever seen by him.

Another example of Jackson’s lack of an approach to compromise was the problems endured by his Secretary of War, John Eaton and his problematic wife, Margaret (Peggy) Timberlake. Peggy was widely despised/disapproved of by the Washington elite due to Eaton and her living together prior to their  marriage. The problem gained serious traction when the wife John Calhoun’s (Jackson’s VP) snubbed Peggy and influenced many others to do so, too. The consequences of this seemingly trivial affair were actually critical and far reaching. Jackson in typical Jacksonian fashion divided Washington into two groups: Friends of Peggy (and thus Jackson) and Enemies. One consequence was that Calhoun would be replaced by the bachelor Martin Van Buren (he had no wife to feud with Peggy; there were philosophical issues, too). Van Buren would succeed Jackson as president in 1836. One can easily wonder at presidential succession had the Eaton affair not occurred: conceivably it would still not have been Calhoun, but Van Buren’s chances would have been considerably dimmed, too had he not had the position of VP. Other consequences were equally profound as Jackson found his policies and alliances within the Washington ruling class to some degree compromised and distracted by this otherwise petty problem. With Peggy as with the case of Jackson’s wife Rachel, the consequences of infelicities of the couples involved always landed the hardest on the female half of the pair. In these cases, Meacham also does a great job of showing just how much a blood sport in early 19th century America politicking could become and the price innocent bystanders would sometimes suffer.

Two other major examples from the Jacksonian era were his battles over the re-chartering of the US Bank and his decision to “relocate” the Cherokee nation from Georgia to Oklahoma territory. In the first case, Meacham succinctly details the fight by Jackson over this issue, but like the fight between Jefferson and the Federalists, I would have liked more discussion on why the re-chartering might have been good for the US. Jackson derived his decision based on his distaste for the involvement of the Federal government in banking and his conclusion that the bank only met the needs of an elite and wealthy few at the expense of the many – but was there a valid opposing point of view? In the case of the Cherokees, Jackson claimed to be actually doing them a favor as the contrary case of “allowing” them to stay in Georgia on their own property would have caused a situation where their eventual outcome would have been worse than their re-location (i.e. the local white populace would have massacred them). There are so many reasons why this logic is faulty and offensive, I cannot even comment; like for example, how about sending in the cavalry to protect them. Both of these cases demonstrate that with Jackson his views of what was best for the majority would almost always trump the rights of the few. The Eaton affair was an exception to this rule but an example of Jackson’s other rule: his family and allies always came first, logic and evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.


What do Meacham’s biographies of Jefferson and Jackson show these two presidents to have in common? Primarily, Meacham deftly shows how each man via his own personal style of politicking and political gamesmanship worked to expand and define the role of the president in the fledgling American government. It is an absolute certainty that George Washington was uniquely gifted in setting the stage for the role of the president, but these two later presidents demonstrated through their actions new and clear presidential responsibilities and latitude as a part of our tripartite system. A second important point was these early years were far more perilous for our young government than most contemporary Americans understand. Meacham not only does a marvelous job of defining that peril as seen by these two men and demonstrating how they helped the United States survive the early years when our survival was not a given, but also to crucially set examples of presidential prerogatives for all presidents to follow. Yes, Washington was great and unique, but Jefferson and Jackson were in many ways, even more so on both points.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Book Review: Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy


Blood Meridian or The Evening Redness of the West (1985)

Five Stars out of Five

Cormac McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy’s fifth book, a Western or neo-Western, “Blood Meridian” has been named one of the best American works of fiction over the previous twenty-five years in a 2006 NY Times poll of writers and critics. This book has been compared to “Moby Dick” in terms of scope and language, and has been extensively analyzed by a broad range of critics and academics for its philosophical depths and ambiguities. It is definitely one of the best books I have ever read. And yet for the casual reader, it is very easy to imagine the initial reaction will be revulsion. The book is replete with violence, so much so that by the book’s purposely confused ending, the violence has long shed its shock value and assumes little more effect than a landscape that comes with a particular character. This theme of violence in the character of Man is clearly a central precept of the book: does Man act out violence in a benign manner (i.e. out of an instinct for survival) or in some kind of malignant manner, that is to say out of some twisted nature in his character.

The story spans the era of 1830’s Tennessee to the borderlands between Mexico and the US in the 1840’s – 50’s. By far, the preponderance of the book is focused on the historical scalp-hunting Glanton gang in 1849-1850. The book follows the violent life of “The Kid” from his birth in Tennessee under a meteor shower to his death fifty or so years later under yet another meteor shower. As a fourteen-year old, he meets “The Judge”, an icon of evil not easily surpassed by any other such fictional character. The Kid having not met his fate as a youth at the hands of the Judge eventually finds himself in Nagadoches Texas where he joins up with an inept band of US Army irregulars. This group is bound for Mexico where they intend to take property and land from the Mexicans. However, their plans are demolished by a passing band of Comanches. Most of the Americans are killed, but the Kid ends up after some desert-induced privation in a Mexican prison. While there, he joins a more competent but even more morally bankrupt group. This new group is a band of scalp hunters led by John Glanton. The Glanton gang will eventually include the Judge. This gang will institute a reign of terror on the local Mexican populace, soldiery and Native American bands until they themselves are destroyed with few survivors. Amongst the survivors are the Kid, the ex-priest Tobin, and the Judge. The book concludes with the Kid much older and now referred to as the Man. The Man meets the Judge in an outhouse at the very end of the book. The Judge survives, but the Kid’s outcome is only suggested, never resolved.

The text used in the book is extraordinarily spare. McCarthy does not use quotation marks to note conversational passages or even apostrophes for contractions. Indeed, McCarthy in furtherance of this spareness uses extensive Spanish language passages which are left untranslated. The English language sections are infused with a sense of both the bible and the 19th century. Like the violence referred to above, this spare language and untranslated Spanish help to create a stage on which the themes and characters live and die on. And such characters, the four that are most significant is the earless Toadvine (a near constant associate of The Kid), the ex-priest Tobin (actually never a priest, ironically only a failed noviate), the violent but still somewhat merciful Kid, and the bald, fatalistic, scientific, pederast and thoroughly satanic Judge. To be honest, a complete critical review of this book could be spent focusing on the hairless, fiddle-playing, dancing Judge.

To comment that these four characters play metaphorical roles in the book is quite an understatement. The two about whom the book revolves are the Judge and the Kid. The Kid proves himself time and again capable of violent exertions that would frighten almost anyone. And yet in contrast with the war-loving Judge he is instead an example of the benignly violent character; whether or not he feels any empathy for his victims is left unclear. The Judge states quite clearly that war is act of the highest moral value. In a final conversation with the Kid, he refers to it as a dance and asserts that only a Man set above the animals is capable of it. The Kid and the ex-priest make various halfhearted arguments to the contrary at various points in the book, but it is clear from each confrontation, and as well from the book’s ending that violence is the conscious decision of Man; it is part of his nature.

Another theme that runs through this book as well as several other McCarthy books is that of borders. It shows up in the title of course as well as the geography in “Blood Meridian” between the United States and Mexico. McCarthy also uses it on several occasions in a more nuanced fashion to make his point. Consider his use of the two Jacksons in the Glanton gang; one black, one white, and both violently opposed to one another. The reference is to Cain and Abel by the death of one Jackson at the hands of the other. But the primary purpose of these various dichotomies is to highlight the difference between Man and beast, between Good and Evil – like the spare language, there are no greys in any of these differences.

Violence and Borderlands are however the secondary themes; they work to support the central theme of this book, and that is a variation on a philosophical argument known as Theodicy. This was a concept introduced by Leibniz in the early 18th century. There are several versions of it, but the gist is that Theodicy asserts that the presence of evil in the world and why God permits it is an argument for the probability of God; the probability, rather than the possibility. That this book goes to some effort to demonstrate the existence of Evil is without question. McCarthy leaves it to the reader to draws his own conclusions about God’s probability, but he certainly pushes one in the Theodictic direction. Another important aspect is to consider the irony of the Judge’s nature. He spends much of the book analyzing and recording his observations of Nature in his endless quest to own and control the World. As such, he is not only an icon for the devil and evil, but also for the “amoral” pursuit of Science to own and control Nature – which would obviously include God himself, from some perspectives. Quite an indictment of Science and something of an allusion to the Garden of Eden wherein Satan indices Eve to eat from the tree of knowledge.

As mentioned above, the ending is purposely vague (there is great debate on why this is so amongst the academics). To set the scene, consider how many times the reader is told that the Judge is a pederast who abuses and then kills his young victims, and how he missed a chance with the Kid at the beginning of the story. When we reach the book’s conclusion, the Kid, now the Man seems completely aimless and with hardly an argument to counter the Judge’s immoral (to the Kid/Man, certainly not to the Judge) views towards violence and war. The Man makes one last feeble attempt at verbal jousting with the Judge, and then moments later,  The Man enters an outhouse wherein he find the Judge, nude. The suggestion is of murder and humiliation for the Man; his apotheosis at the hands of the Judge. The end result of this meeting is in a manner completely unlike the rest of the vividly portrayed acts of violence in this book; no description, only suggestion.  The only note of explanation is made by one of two cowboys upon later opening the door to the outhouse: “Good God Almighty”. Ignoring the religious reference made by the cowboy, multiple questions are left unanswered: did the Man enter knowingly to death and sexual humiliation, did he make one more fight or only passively submit to his fate, and is his fate emblematic of our own?

My opinion is that McCarthy is indeed saying that Man’s nature is that of the beast, and that we are not in control of our fate, nor even aware of it; and like the beasts, we are doomed to die without any real understanding of the Universe. We make our feeble attempts to explain nature, to control it and ourselves, but like the animals and children we are merely victims waiting for our sentence of death to be carried out by some indifferent Power. This point is made clearer in the Epilogue wherein a line of holes are lit in the desert that passersby wander across. The holes themselves are described as “validation of sequence and causality as if each round and perfect hole owed its existence to the one before”.  Einstein and his theory of General Relativity would not be pleased with this phrase (he proved a lack of causality in Time), but it certainly underscores McCarthy’s pessimistic view of Man and his “understanding”.

“Blood Meridian” is a brilliantly written and conceived work of art. It is most clearly not for every reader. But if you are of a philosophical bent, and can tolerate the violent themes throughout this book, you too will be amazed at its artistry. I could not be further from McCarthy’s view as regards Man and the Universe, but I can still be awed by what he has done with “Blood Meridian” – perhaps, you will be, too.


Sunday, March 1, 2015

Book Review: "Middlesex" by Jeffrey Eugenides

Middlesex (2002)

Four Stars out of Five

Jeffery Eugenides

Jeffery Eugenides has crafted an amazing/frustrating amalgam of a Pulitzer Prize winning (2003) novel in the form of “Middlesex”. This book like its protagonist Callie/Cal is a pastiche of styles, themes, voices, strengths and weaknesses. It is so much in my opinion a juncture of two separate books, that I would like to give the first half five stars out of five, but consign the second half to a mere two or three stars out of five; I will settle for my own pastiche and give it a mean value of four stars out of five.

Eugenides has commented that “Middlesex” contains many parts that come from his own life, though not the premier characteristic of his hero/heroine Cal/Callie. “Middlesex” tells the story of three generations of the Stephanides family. It begins with their departure from Asia Minor where grandparents Eleutherios (Lefty) and Desdemona must leave their silk worm farm via the burning of Smyrna following WWI for America. Once in America, they join up with cousin Sourmelina (Lina) in Detroit to raise their two children Milton and Zoe. The novel details the Greek immigrants’ experience in Detroit and contrasts it to the African-American experience in the same city by discussing the origins of auto manufacture, the origins of Black Muslims (Nation of Islam), and the race riots in the 60’s. The story leads up to Milton’s own children with his cousin Tessie, Chapter Eleven (yes that his name) and Calliope (later Cal).

The first half of the book is in many ways a brilliant portrait of an immigrant family and the powerful forces that led them to flee their homeland in Bithhynos on the slopes of Mount Olympus in Asia Minor/Turkey. We are introduced to life in a rural, inbred town where the ethnic Greeks are definitely not integrated into the larger Turkish culture that surrounds them. As they leave their home, barely making it out alive, the reader is introduced to the conditions of that that small inbred town, how it permits, if not indeed compels Lefty to marry his sister Desdemona, and how this literal defiance of natural law and metaphorical defiance of the Gods leads to the genetic mutation that lies at the root of Callie’s/Cal’s life two generations later.

Once in America, Lefty and Desdemona conceal their consanguinity from all except their cousin Lina; she who has her own secret (Lesbianism), the newlyweds will hold in secret as a quid pro quo for Lina keeping their secret. As Lefty and Desdemona begin their life in Detroit, the reader is exposed to the history of Detroit, some of the teachings of The Nation of Islam and the race riots in the Detroit of 1967. Those riots lead to an insurance-borne bounty for the Stephanides family and their White flight from Detroit to the enclave of Grosse Point. The Stephanides experience their own exposure to ethnic-based prejudice when they try to buy their new home, but still fail to understand the rage and frustration of the Blacks they just fled. In Grosse Point, the formerly cute Callie (or Calliope, muse of heroic poetry in Greek mythology) begins to feel the effects of the mutation she has inherited. This mutation has placed her into an “intersex” category but has heretofore gone unseen by all around her, doctors and family alike. The problem for Callie is that her mutation is now starting to masculinize her, and right at a most difficult time for Callie as she has just enrolled into a cliquish prep school for girls. Her problems compound as she finds herself irresistibly drawn to another girl. Through a series of misadventures Callie learns of her genetic endowment, decides to live as a male and to flee her home. The story concludes in a somewhat rushed manner with the now middle-aged Cal living in the formerly divided Berlin as a man working for the US government.

There are two themes that dominate this story: rebirth and nature versus nurture. There are also some very interesting thematic elements in the story such as how polar opposites (e.g. male and female) experience the same events and also how the use of Greek mythology is used to expand many of the ideas in the book. The rebirth theme is quite probably the most key theme throughout this story: the Greek immigrants’ rebirth as Americans and Callie’s rebirth as Cal. The contrast between these two transformations is quite clever and helps to knit the first half of the book to the second. How Callie came to be transformed from a girl into a boy is discussed at length as a nature versus nurture argument. While I enjoyed the discussion, I am far from convinced that Science has come to as clear a conclusion as Cal did in terms of his decision to opt for maleness. Most especially disturbing was the weight he (living as a she) placed on his sexual orientation for females – this seems a rank dismissal of gay orientations as being little more than misplaced genitalia; a concept that I do not believe is embraced by modern medicine in any manner.

The polar opposite experiences of male versus female is I think another prime feature of this book. Eugenides worked hard to create a novel first person voice for an adolescent Callie and for the middle-aged Cal. Indeed, the voice he uses for Cal as he describes the thoughts of his ancestors in the first person when clearly he could not have known them is couched in two very interesting ways. On the one hand, Hermaphroditus the Greek from mythology that Cal most clearly aligns himself with had the ability to know and to feel empathy with his ancestors, and then in addition through his use of ironic language, Eugenides lets it be known he is being somewhat facetious and that Cal must be regarded as an unreliable narrator.

The use of Greek mythology is also very cleverly used by Eugenides. Consider how on the night of Callie’s conception, her parents were attending a play called The Minotaur; this half bull, half man is but one example of the divided natures of so many parts of “Middlesex”. Other significant examples of Greek mythology would include the aforementioned Hermaphroditus’ abilities, Calliope as both a Greek muse of heroics and her namesake as the book’s narrator of her own heroics, but I think one of the cleverest is the role played by Callie as Tiresias in her school’s play. This Greek character also displayed in her life dual natures as male and female, but also acted as a seer and fore-teller of things unseen; again a hearkening to Hermaphroditus’ similar abilities.

The problems with the book that I had were that it was almost like two books. Book 1 dealt as a family saga or historical novel on the life and times of Greek immigrants in mid-20th century America, while Book two dealt in far less a compelling way with the Callie’s transformation. This latter book was done as Bildungsroman type of story and was done in a far too wordy manner. And yet despite being too verbose, one could easily complain that it was not as easy to follow Callie’s transformation let alone Cal’s final denouement as easily as it was to follow his/her family’s adventures in part 1. Another criticism is the one already leveled in terms of Callie’s decision to live as Cal. This aspect of the book is particularly ironic as Eugenides has stated publicly that his primary motivation in writing of Callie’s intersex nature was his own dissatisfaction with a memoir written by an actual intersex individual in the 19th century (“Herculin Barbin”).

Those comments aside, “Middlesex” is a brilliant book that brings a unique voice to the narrator, speaks compelling of the immigrant experience and helps to shed some light on the lives of one group of American still struggling to gain acceptance and understanding from the wider community around them; that is to say those not fitting neatly into strictly defined sexual categories, those of an intersex category. This book is not for everyone, but for those of you interested in the immigrant experience or in unique narrative styles, this book might well be of some interest.