The inside story on life in wartime Shanghai and Hong Kong

Shanghai, 25 March 2016. Photo by Michael de Percy.

Lust, Caution by Eileen Chang

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This collection of short stories focuses on life during the Second World War in Shanghai (and partly Hong Kong), including aspects of the Japanese occupation. Eileen Chang lived through this period in Shanghai and Hong Kong, and while many of the stories are about mundane everyday life, the issues of culture, imperialism, intrigue, gender roles and relations, class, and love provide an interesting ethnography of the times. The trajectory of the plots are noticeably different to male and western authors, with no noticeable climax and conclusions that peter out and fade away somewhat like a 1960s pop music hit. That is not to say that the stories are unresolved - they certainly are - but that the resolution occurs as a phase in the life that otherwise continues on. Yet each story projects a form of melancholy that I suppose reflects the wartime situation - somewhat like Hemingway's ever-present tragedy that is inescapable in almost all of his writing. While visiting Shanghai for the first time in 2016, I read W. Somerset Maugham's work On A Chinese Screen. Maugham tried to show a side of everyday life for local inhabitants that was otherwise ignored by the imperialists. Chang provides the inside story, and while the stories have all been translated into English, one does not feel that there is anything missing from the work. Chang was prolific, and I will try one of her novels in the near future.

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Reflecting on Reflecting in 2017: My year of The Daily Stoic

The Fog Warning/Halibut Fishing by Winslow Homer (1885).
Public Domain via Wikimedia.

The Daily Stoic: 366 Meditations for Clarity, Effectiveness, and Serenity by Ryan Holiday

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I used The Daily Stoic to trigger my daily journalling, along with James Allen's As a Man Thinketh and La Rochefoucauld's Maxims, for all of 2017. The book is well-presented in hardcover with a ribbon bookmark, which makes it easy to use every day and rugged enough to withstand the rigours of travel (if not a little bulky). I have purchased The Daily Stoic Journal for 2018, but think I might use The Daily Stoic again. Journalling is key to Stoic practice, and the practice must be daily if the logic is to stick. I find if I miss a day when travelling (and even if I catch up later), it is easy for old habits to return and thwart one's peace. I used James Allen's work for my morning and evening reflection, and, in the first half of the year, I went through two cycles of Benjamin Franklin's Thirteen Virtues. I intend to go back to Franklin's program recommencing tomorrow, and maintain this for as long as I can. The chief problem is to avoid over-burdening my journalling, and sticking to the words of others. It is a habit I hope to break and I am reading other famous journallers (such as Sir Walter Scott) to see how they journalled (in addition, of course, to Aurelius' Meditations). There is always the risk that we will lose our own voice (which The Daily Stoic points out on 22nd December, using Ralph Waldo Emerson and Seneca to encourage one to "Stake Your Own Claim"). This book is now part of my Stoic toolkit. As much as I would like to be self-motivated, this book is a useful prompt to get one thinking and reflecting. The last twelve months have been a godsend, and Stoic practice - the practice is the important part - has helped me keep my calm (to the point where I reflect on my previous self as if he were a neurotic stranger). I am looking forward to using The Daily Stoic Journal this year. I must admit that subscribing to Ryan Holiday's Reading List some three years ago was one of the best things I ever did. I discovered the reading list via The Art of Manliness, and I haven't looked back since.

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Here's why sodium lauryl sulfate is in most of your cleaning products (including toothpaste)

Watercolour by John Orlando Parry, "A London Street Scene" 1835. Public Domain via Wikimedia.

The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do and How to Change by Charles Duhigg

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is an interesting work in that it helps to distil a good deal of scientific research into a practical and interesting guidebook. Habits are effortless ways to live, some good, some bad. But what is clear from the research is that habits consist of three elements:

1. The Cue.
2. The Routine.
3. The Reward.

Extrapolating from this process, the way to change one's habits is as follows:

1. Identify the routine.
2. Experiment with rewards.
3. Isolate the cue.
4. Have a plan.

Duhigg not only looks at individuals, but discusses organisational habits. I would call these institutions (rules, routines, procedures), but Duhigg looks into various organisations such as Alcoholics Anonymous, and then broadens this to includes how Target uses statistical data to "target" advertising to customers. The discussion on Pepsodent toothpaste ans how the tingly feeling now associated with brushing one's teeth was a way to create a habit, to the point where if we do not experience the tingle from the toothpaste, we would consider our teeth not clean. What is equally interesting is the notion of suds forming when using cleaning products (including toothpaste). Some time back, we looked for soap alternatives that did not contain the foaming agent sodium lauryl ether sulfate (SLS). (I recall too how we learnt that not all vinegar products are created equal - if you use vinegar to clean your house in an environmentally-friendly manner, ensure you are using brewed vinegar, not the cheaper varieties which I understand are made from a petrochemical by-product.) Put simply, SLS is in almost every product we use because we have become habituated to the nation that cleaning products are not workings unless they foam up (yes, including your toothpaste). Duhigg doesn't mention this chemical but it now makes sense why so many products include this unnecessary chemical - it is to create habits that sell products. While this is quite depressing, Duhigg also mentions the social habits that kicked in during the Montgomery bus boycott in the 1960s, and Dr Martin Luther King Jr.'s use of such social habits to create a social movement. The book concludes with a discussion of free will, and in an appendix, Duhigg provides his procedure for changing his own habits. I find this work useful in combination with many others I have read, such as Change Anything, and almost any of the motivational work by Steven Pressfield. Putting the science behind the process makes for a more nuanced understanding of why we do the things we do. While at times I felt the work was overtly middle-class and mono-cultural, reading at times like a work written before the social decline in the US recognised in Robert Putnam's Bowling Alone, this shouldn't take away from the usefulness of recognising the processes of habits, and the ways to analyse these habits with an aim to changing oneself. As James Allen (1926) may have put it, it is only through self-examination and self-analysis that we can achieve self-purification. Duhigg provides a useful way to actualise such examination and analysis, and a starting point for action.

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Depoliticising the English Language, One App at a Time

 Discurso Funebre Pericles (Pericles' Funeral Oration) by Philipp Foltz (1877) Public Domain via Wikimedia

Politics and the English Language by George Orwell

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

To say that this book is equally applicable today is naive. Orwell's work is applicable to all of history, whether in the sense that politicians rarely say what they mean, or hide atrocities through vague language, or whether all of history has been re-written in such a way as to hide the truth. The word "democracy" as we use it today, and especially when we mean the phrase "liberal democracy", is the opposite of what Orwell writes. For example, why use a phrase when a single word will do? In the case of liberal democracy, why use a single word when we really mean a phrase? Any undergraduate student of politics should know that "liberal democracy" is an "essentially contested concept". But why is this so? Orwell explains:

In the case of a word like democracy, not only is there no agreed definition, but the attempt to make one is resisted from all sides. It is almost universally felt that when we call a country democratic we are praising it: consequently the defenders of every kind of régime claim that it is a democracy, and fear that they might have to stop using the word if it were tied down to one meaning. Words of this kind are often used in a consciously dishonest way. That is, the person who uses them has his own private definition, but allows his hearer to think he means something quite different.

What does this mean? It means that attempting to "depoliticise" (Orwell criticises the use of un- and de- and -ise words) language is a political act. Indeed, to be conservative is to prevent another's exercise of power by exercising a legacy power while claiming that no such power exists. It is interesting that this work includes Orwell's review of Hitler's Mein Kampf, where he claims that in Hitler's Brownshirt days, he was regarded by both the left and the right as a conservative. And whenever I think of Hitler I cannot help but think of the movie Tea with Mussolini, for the same reason. To conclude, this work is relevant to all time, just as the political dramas unfolding today have been unfolding forever, and will continue to do so. But what can we do? If my other reading is anything to go by, we can take a "bird's-eye view" like the Stoics, and see history for what it is. Or, one might adopt an Epicurean approach and withdraw from politics altogether. Nonetheless, if one combines the two approaches, one can see it for what it is, and withdraw, knowing it will make no difference either way, and then focus on using plain and simple English to convey the truth. The major difference today, however, is that there is an app that will help one do just that. Aren't we lucky.

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On First Principles and Happiness

Dice players. Roman fresco from the Osteria della Via di Mercurio (VI 10,1.19, room b) in Pompeii.
Public Domain via Wikimedia

The Art of Happiness by Epicurus

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I found this book quite perplexing. I expected a hedonistic discussion of the life of reading, conversation, and communal living. Instead, I was learning about atomic theory and the atomic "swerve" (a way to explain randomness in the universe and the subsequent collision of atoms), the logic of the sun, moon,stars, and weather, and the need to be ever-vigilant to ignore the popular gods and to rely on empirical evidence rather than determinism (fate) and mythology to comprehend the otherwise unknown. The letters to Herodotus and Pythocles were all about such concepts, with only the letter to Menoeceus even touching upon the concept of happiness. I was surprised by the depth of the logos of Epicurean thought, and the loftiness of its ideals when compared with Stoic philosophy. Physics was originally known as natural philosophy, and Epicurus' understanding of the universe (based on the ideas of others and not just his own, of course), led to an anti-religious philosophy. Yet God is not absent in Epicurean thought. In the "Leading Doctrines" (pp. 174-5), Epicurus explains:

10. If the things that produce the debauchee's pleasures dissolved the mind's fears regarding the heavenly bodies, death, and pain and also told us how to limit our desires, we would never have any reason to find fault with such people, because they would be glutting themselves with every sort of pleasure and never suffer any physical or mental pain, which is the real evil.

11. We would have no need for natural science unless we were worried by apprehensiveness regarding the heavenly bodies, by anxiety about the meaning of death, and also by our failure to understand the limitations of pain and desire.

12. It is impossible to get rid of our anxieties about essentials if we do not understand the nature of the universe and are apprehensive about some of the theological accounts. Hence it is impossible to enjoy our pleasures unadulterated without natural science.

Moral acts involve deliberate "choices" of possible concrete pleasures and "aversions", i.e., the "deliberate avoidance of prospective pain. An act is moral if in the long run, all things considered, it produces in the agent a surplus of pleasure over pain; otherwise it is immoral". Our choices, desires, and aversions play a prominent role in Stoic philosophy, too. So too, are our impressions, and Epicurus outlines his theology thus:

The gods do indeed exist, since our knowledge of them is a matter of clear and distinct perception.

However, Epicurus warned against anthropomorphising the gods (or God), and that the gods did not control nature. Rather, their role was ethical, and the gods were abstract (p. 41):

psychological projections of what every good Epicurean wanted himself to be... Thus a relapse into "the old-time religion" of a god-controlled universe has very serious consequences: It cuts the worshipper off from the gods' images - that is, alienates him from the divine communion - and it plunges the naive believer once more into the ancient fears that Epicurus seeks to allay: namely, that the gods will avenge themselves on wicked men by causing natural disasters, political upheavals, and finally the torments of death and hell.

For the Roman poet, Lucretius:

True religion is rather the power to contemplate nature with a mind set at peace.

Nevertheless, Epicurus was keen to attack other philosophies and religions, so it is not surprising that he got some of his own back! When I was schooled in snippets of Greek philosophy, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle were the godhead "gang of three" (see De Bono), and the Presocratics and others were treated as the great pretenders. Yet Epicurus, too, was asking those two great questions: How to live and what to believe (see Murray in my previous article), and his atomic theory addressed the second question in order to address the first. God exists, but, like the atomic swerve, free will exists otherwise there would be no need for ethics, for our behaviour would be pre-determined. According to Strodach's Introduction, the Epicurean materialism (which was morphed or "garbled" into "eat, drink, and be merry") was "so unpalatable" to the ancient and medieval worlds that Epicurus' atomic theory was lost until the 17th Century (uncovered by "the Jesuit priest Pierre Gassendi, a contemporary of Descartes", see p. 76). And so I find myself in agreement with Daniel Klein (see Foreword):

For a moment, the twenty-first-century mind might recoil at the idea of a self-anointed pundit proclaiming to his students - and to us - exactly how to live. But I, for one, read on for the simple reason that I suspect Epicurus may, in fact, have gotten it right.

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On First Principles and Stoicism

Radcliffe Camera, a part of Oxford University's Bodleian Library, and All Souls College to the right, in Radcliffe Square, looking north from the tower of St Mary's Church, the University Church, in central Oxford, England.
Photo by Tejvan Pettinger via Wikimedia CC BY 2.0

The Stoic Philosophy; Conway Memorial Lecture Delivered at South Place Institute on March 16, 1915 by Gilbert Murray

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I discovered this lecture in George Strodach's notes to Epicurus' The Art of Happiness. I have been thinking about the format of Ancient Greek philosophies, specifically the outlining of the ethos, pathos, and logos of each philosophy. Put simply, these are modes of persuasion, where ethos refers to "character" and the guiding beliefs; pathos refers to emotional appeal, and logos refers to the appeal to logic. From what I can gather, a good deal of the logos of Stoicism is lost to antiquity, whereas Epicurus' logos is contained in his letters to Herodotus and Pythocles. Murray outlines the two major questions Zeno of Citium (the founder of Stoicism) grappled with:

How to live and what to believe.

While the first question was the focus, Murray points out that one cannot address the former without first addressing the latter. First principles, if you will. The Sceptics (and Platonists) had developed ideas about ontology (the nature of being, reality, or existence) and epistemology (theories of knowledge and how we can know something), but Zeno was "a fighter" and "wanted to get to business". This explains in large part the practical nature of Stoicism. But here, like Heraclitus and Epicurus, the idea of God or the gods is an important first principle. Murray uses examples of the Duke of Wellington in asserting the positivist nature of Stoicism - this is a table, here it is, one can see it and touch it - an "uncompromising materialism". But how do we know?

By the evidence of our senses; for the sense-impression (here Stoics and Epicureans both followed the fifth-century physicists) is simply the imprint of the real thing upon our mindstuff. As such it must be true.

The idea of managing one's "impressions" is a cornerstone of Stoic philosophy, and here Murray points out that our "sense-impression [is] all right; it is we who have interpreted it wrongly, or received it in some incomplete way". So our impressions are true - we can believe what we see - but how we react to these external events is the focus; the world is "real" and "knowable". So when we ask, What is it to live the good life? - Zeno meant it in "an ultimate Day-of-Judgment sense". Goodness is "performing your function well". This reminds me of Bentham's idea of utility - not being drunk all the time as a source of happiness, but utility as in a hammer to a carpenter. And acting well in accordance with one's "nature" is the point - Phusis here is translated as "Nature", but in the context of evolution, growth, or the process of growth - continuous improvement comes to mind - moving ever closer to perfection:

It means living according to the spirit which makes the world grow and progress, [where] Phusis is not a sort of arbitrary personal goddess, upsetting the natural order; Phusis is the natural order, and nothing happens without a cause.

Such ideas about "natural law" were not unusual to the Ancient Greek philosophers, "indistinguishable from a purpose, the purpose of the great world-process". Phusis is regarded by the Stoics as a form of intellectual fire, which forms:

a principle of providence or forethought [that] comes to be regarded as God, the nearest approach to a definite personal God which is admitted by the austere logic of Stoicism... Thus Goodness is acting, according to Phusis, in harmony with the will of God.

It is worth quoting Murray at length here to explain the idea of "good" and "nature":

The answer is clear and uncompromising. A good bootmaker is one who makes good boots; a good shepherd is one who keeps his sheep well; and even though good boots are, in the Day-of-Judgment sense, entirely worthless, and fat sheep no whit better than starved sheep, yet the good bootmaker or good shepherd must do his work well or he will cease to be good. To be good he must perform his function; and in performing that function there are certain things that he must prefer; to others, even though they are not really "good"; He must prefer a healthy sheep or a well-made boot to their opposites. It is thus that Nature, or Phusis, herself works when she shapes the seed into the tree, or the blind puppy into the good hound. The perfection of the tree or hound is in itself indifferent, a thing of no ultimate value. Yet the goodness of Nature lies in working for that perfection.

Murray ties his discussion together by looking at two problems of government - a government that is good during the bad times is not necessarily good during the good times, and vice versa. Stoicisms' dual character, however, provides armour when the world is evil, and encouragement when the world is good. In summing up, Murray states that we all, like herd animals, look for a friend, and we ineradicably and instinctively look for a Friend-God so we are not alone in the universe. This is not about reason but a "craving of the whole nature". Two other interesting features of this work are worth recalling. First, the chairman's introduction. He indicates what a good chair should do by outlining what a poor chair had done to Murray on a previous occasion. Second, the purpose of the lecture series was in honour of Dr Moncure Conway, whose:

untiring zeal for the emancipation of the human mind from the thraldom of obsolete or waning beliefs, his pleadings for sympathy with the oppressed and for a wider and profounder conception of human fraternity than the world has yet reached.

What I find most interesting about this work (and the purpose of the lecture series) is its congruence with my reading of Epicurus. Epicurus warned against believing in the popular gods and insisted instead upon an empirical understanding of the world. Maybe not as practical as Zeno's positivism, but certainly not a case of blind faith. Yet Epicurus was not an atheist, and his conception of God may well have been a precursor to monotheism, as much of Stoicism was a precursor to large elements of Christianity and Islam. Indeed, Murray provides a glimpse of this comparison - Ryan Holiday in "A Star is Born" on the Christmas edition of the Daily Stoic newsletter draws out comparisons between the words of Seneca and Jesus - and Strodach reads something similar. Add to this my present reading of Teddy Roosevelt's Autobiography, where he is discussing the power of the herd instinct when rounding-up cattle, and the coincidences are strongly correlating around a common theme! I began by discussing the lack of logos in Stoic philosophy, but Murray's work goes a long way to bringing this to light. It may not be obvious in the practical "enchiridion" sense of the three main books of the Roman Stoics, but when combined with a reading of Epicurus, this lecture says much in very few words.

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On Nationalism: The Vague Incisiveness of Poets Waxing Political

Portrait of  Rabindranath Tagore. Photo by Cherishsantosh via Wikimedia CC BY-SA 4.0

Nationalism by Rabindranath Tagore

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I knew nothing of this Nobel Laureate and "discovered" his work while playing Sid Meier's Civilization VI . I first played this game to kill some time on my Artillery ROBC in Manly in 1994, and have played it occasionally ever since. The game is so well researched and I have learnt so much from it about art, music, literature, geography, history, theology, philosophy, science, technology that I am keen to find a way to incorporate it into my teaching. Now I have smaller classes, it may be possible to do so. I should probably be too proud to state I have learnt so much from a computer game but if that is how it happened, and I am an educator, then being a pedagogical snob is rather lacking in integrity. But I digress. Tagore was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature 1913 for his poetry which, ironically, "made his poetic thought, expressed in his own English words, a part of the literature of the West". This collection of essays on nationalism was written in 1917 at the height of the Great War. The essays cover nationalism in Japan, the West, and in India. It is perplexing to read, one hundred years later, a great thinker's prophecies on the likes of Japan (which went on to do what Tagore was most concerned about, at least morally), the rise of China and India, and the explosion of anti-globalisation and racism, when humanity is in the midst of the latter two issues once again. Tagore called for greater tolerance, greater freedom from restrictive class systems, and a less mechanical view of the world. He saw the "Nation" as a machine. Interestingly, Matthew Arnold (1869) in Culture and Anarchy (see my earlier review) referred to the problems of "machinery" in a similar sense. This makes me think of systems thinking, and Descartes, and how viewing the world as a machine or a clockwork is a first-principle mistake! The inter-connectedness of the Grand Ecosystem thwarts attempts at mechanical explanations for phenomena, yet it also has a moral dimension that Tagore explores in these essays. He made some interesting observations. First, he stated that Europe was one country divided into several, whereas India was many countries jammed into one. Second, he predicted Japan's moral decline through imitation of the West. Third, he noted how Europeans in America and Australia solved the problem of race:

...by almost exterminating the original population. Even in the present age this spirit of extermination is making itself manifest, by inhospitably shutting out aliens, through those who themselves were aliens in the lands they now occupy.

Yet we should not be too hasty to attribute all-seeing wisdom to Tagore. History defied his thesis in relation to India (as it was then) and what it would become after independence:

But India tolerated difference of races from the first, and that spirit of toleration has acted all through her history.

Writing at this point in history must have been depressing, and Tagore sees the worship of the "wonderful efficiency" of the West as a cause of the war:

The veil has been raised, and in this frightful war the West has stood face to face with her own creation, to which she had offered her soul. She must know what it truly is.

It is not difficult to feel the workings of a poet in these essays. Matthew Arnold was a Professor of Poetry, too, so the style is not unfamiliar to me. Indeed, it would seem that the vague incisiveness of poets waxing political has a style of its own. Tagore might not be pleased about being lumped together with Matthew Arnold! But as I read Nationalism immediately after Culture and Anarchy, I must beg forgiveness for sticking these two poets in the one inappropriate box! But there it is: The vague incisiveness of the political poet.

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On Sweetness and Light, Discipline and Creativity: Culture and Anarchy

The Derby Day (1856-8) by William Powell Frith. Photo CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 via Tate Britain

Culture and Anarchy by Matthew Arnold

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I had heard others speak of this book as if it were a cult classic. Any wonder. There are so many things going on in this work. I am still trying to see where Matthew Arnold fits in with the likes of Edmund Burke, John Stuart Mill, David Ricardo, Thomas Malthus, and Herbert Spencer. He was a professor of poetry by profession, and his niece, Mrs Humphrey Ward, became a metonym for a conservative wowser. So he was hardly a John Stuart Mill, yet he was also rather short of being a Herbert Spencer. He seemed to be the reverse of a modern Australian Liberal (not liberal) - he did not support free trade but looked to the cultural elite, while remaining socially conservative. The brief introduction eludes to the lack of definitions in the work, and this is supported by a critique of the work by Henry Sidgwick entitled The Prophet of Culture (provided as an appendix). Indubitably, the two were friends, but with some rather major philosophical differences. There are extensive notes and these are important due to the number of then-contemporary social, political, cultural, and religious debates (as indicated by the list of important thinkers above) that would be lost on most modern readers (or me, at least). These are rather important to understanding the context but I suspect the different disciplinary groups did not necessarily cross paths in their intellectual outputs. For my own memory, it is useful to outline some of Arnold's key ideas. First, culture is the seeking (as opposed to achieving) perfection in the pursuit of reason and the will of God. The phrase "sweetness and light" is used by Arnold to refer to the pursuit of beauty (in the Hellenistic sense) and light as intellect. Sidgwick counters with "fire and strength" as being more important to improving society (referring, in particular, to religion). Arnold navigates two approaches to understanding culture (albeit somewhat difficult to articulate a precise definition of either) as Hebraising (referring to the Hebrew penchant for religious discipline) versus Hellenism (referring to the Ancient Greek aesthetic and penchant for reason). Arnold brings in the idea of class here (something completely overlooked by many modern works that assume the myth of egalitarianism in contemporary society is not a myth at all), and names the classes the Barbarians (the aristocracy), the Philistines (the middle class) and the Populace (the working class). Given the book was published in 1869, the "Populace" was still a few decades away from any formal political power, and class-based rioting was emerging as a problem for the likes of Burke (who had issues with the Lockean and Rousseauian conceptions of the social contract. Indeed, Arnold was a form of anti-Jacobin). Arnold was closer to Hobbesian support for a strong State, but tempered by the idea that representatives of each class should strive to represent their ideal best selves (as a class rather than individuals), and the idea of the State was to enable such striving for social and political perfection. There were a few snippets that drew lines where the State should and should not intervene, relating to Nonconformism and antidisestablishmentarianism (I always wanted to use that word - but I must qualify, it relates to then-contemporary debates over the disestablishment of the Church of Ireland [refer to the Irish Church Act 1869], rather than the Church of England - but I had to use the word!) rather than intervening to protect the poor (some Malthusian debate was definitely going on at this time in history). Nevertheless, Arnold was opposed to government "control for control's sake" (p. 170) over education policy, and preferred the Continental approaches to education that had clear strategic objectives rather than simply government control. Sidgwick puts some of this confusion to rest - he is by no means a fan of this particular piece of Arnold's work but empathises with his cause to strengthen society by increasing its culture. Here, Sidgwick's essay does a great service to Arnold's theme, and the two works together are important. Sidgwick (p. 172) surmises that Arnold "wishes for reconciliation of antagonisms" - be these Hebraism versus Hellenism, class differences, or culture and religion (or sweetness and light versus fire and strength) - in an effort to improve society. Without Sidgwick's contribution, it would be easy to miss Arnold's point. But that does not make the work of any less value. Some of these statements have been made by others (including the introduction), and Arnold's belief in the "law of perfection" reminds me of a scene from The Last Samurai where Tom Cruise narrates: "From the moment they wake they devote themselves to the perfection of whatever they pursue". This was a difficult read. Not like Sir Walter Scott's work where one can readily get bogged down in Gaelic dialogue, but because numerous reference to the notes (there are as many notes as pages) are necessary to understand the context, and there is so much jam-packed in this otherwise short essay, that it takes a while to sink in. While that should not diminish the importance of the work, if the attitude to difficult works today is anything to go by - where we are routinely told by lazy egoists (as opposed to egotists) if we cannot explain something to a three year-old child we don't understand it ourselves - then Arnold is amiss. But he was so close to being a futurist that this work ought to be more widely read, not as a cult classic (which arguably it deserves to be), but because we are reaching the culmination-point Arnold seemed to warn about,- should we ever relegate "sweetness and light" to "fire and strength".

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You Can't Judge a Book by its Movie: or, Ethics, Androids, and Empathy

Philip Dick hints at the ethics dilemmas of the future; anything uncanny valley creeps me out no end.
Photo by Max Braun CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is a good, quick, and easy read. The book has been selected as the "2018 Book of the Year" for students and staff at the University of Canberra. I was thrilled with the choice. Many of the books to date have been deliberate YA fiction. As a literature snob I find these difficult to swallow, but Philip Dick's work is a bit out there, and although a modern classic, I like that it is not too recent. I couldn't recall the 1982 movie Blade Runner as I was only 12 when it was released. Scenes were familiar but I could not recall the plot. After I had read Dick's book up until there were ten pages to go, I rented Blade Runner (starring Harrison Ford) on BigPond Movies. The movie's plot was all over the shop with large parts of the spiritual elements missing, and the empathy, which Dick illustrates does not belong to androids, is somehow transferred to Rutger Hauer's portrayal of the android Roy Baty. The deity, Mercer, is non-existent (strangely replaced by little people, it seems), and the goat-killing android Rachael isn't a goat killer at all as she is too busy falling in "love" with Harrison Ford. it was an interesting activity to have read everything except the conclusion, and then to have watched the movie before concluding the book. As is often the case, the book is far superior. As far as a "Book of the Year" goes, I am looking forward to teaching in 2018 as I will be able to use the book in my assessment items (which we are encouraged to do). One thing I want to focus on is how civil society develops concepts of ethics around artificial intelligence and robotics, and also how, from a leadership perspective, changes to warfare, the workplace, and leisure activities will be increasingly under pressure from technological advances. Dick's work is helpful in that it does not turn the plot into a grunge-fest (as in the movie), and enables one to tease out numerous themes relating to religion, spirituality, ethics, futurism, machines, and the all-too-creepy "Uncanny Valley". It is short enough to read in one sitting, yet literary enough to satisfy literature snobs, and a good choice for 2018.

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On International Mindedness in Education with Cindy Bin Tahal

Cindy Bin Tahal, International School Leader, in action.

Today I spoke with Cindy Bin Tahal on the concept of "international mindedness". Cindy is an international school leader and has worked as a principal and taught in various locations in Australia (including the Torres Strait), North America and Asia.

In the podcast, Cindy mentions the following policies, initiatives, and works that may be of interest:

• No Child Left Behind (US)
• Every Child Matters (UK)
• Carol June Maker
• AusIdentities
• Edward de Bono Six Thinking Hats 
• Gardner's Multiple Intelligence
• Productive Pedagogies
• Authentic Achievement (Newmann and Associates)
• 16 Personalities (MBTI)

I was interested in her approach as I am currently working with colleagues on similar approaches to addressing international mindedness in our curricula.

The podcast is available on iTunes, Stitcher, or Soundcloud.

On Folk versus Formal Religion: or, Why I Hate Hollywood's Corruption of Epic Texts

 Siegfried, the hero of the North, and Beowulf, the hero of the Anglo-Saxons (1909) [Public Domain] via Wikimedia

Beowulf by Unknown

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is the first time I have read this epic poem but having seen the horrible 3D movie (cartoon?) beforehand, my imagination was all awry. Of note is the Christian versus pagan context that is completely missed by the movie, and also the context of the story is all over the shop. I was confused by the epic poem's plot but have since learnt that there are three seemingly disjointed stories, and there is no Angelina Jolie dragon for the two heroes to have slept with. Indeed, the movie makes Hrothgar and Beowulf look like idiots. The only part of the movie that made any sense in the context of the ancient text was the coastguard riding up to challenge Beowulf's armed warband (one of the typical "look at me I'm in 3D" shots with his spear). The rest just makes me angry at the movie! I drew some parallels with the Christian/pagan issue with my coinciding trip to Hong Kong. On a visit to Lamma Island, I asked my Chinese-speaking colleague about the Tian Hou Temple. She replied that it was something about the Queen of Heaven. I wondered whether it was Buddhist or what and looked it up when I returned to the hotel. It was interesting that Tian Hou evolved into the Empress of Heaven from a humble goddess of water and fishing. As Hong Kong originated as a fishing village, that makes sense. I have since learnt that various religious practices from Buddhism were incorporated into the worship of the polytheist local gods, and during numerous political eras, local deities were accepted and encouraged by governments over the centuries where these helped with civil stability (during the Han Dynasty, I think). Such Chinese "folk" religions are known as "Shenism". This interested me no end! Yet another thing I knew nothing about. In Beowulf, I felt the same tension between folk and formal religion, and it is clear that the text provides witness to the early days of Christianity in the region. I also felt I had seen numerous movies that draw on the different plots of the text. It is short and quick but would take several readings to better piece together the confusing plots, but others have agonised over this sufficiently for me to know my confusion was not just poor attention to detail!

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On the Usefulness of Philosophy: or, It is stupid to want to abolish bad weather

A Philosopher Lecturing with a Mechanical Planetary (1766).
Joseph Wright of Derby [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This was an airport buy and a flight read. De Botton covers Socrates, Epicurus, Seneca, Montaigne, Schopenhauer, and Nietzsche in an effort to point out that:

Not everything which makes us feel better is good for us. Not everything which hurts may be bad.

In effect, to regard "distress" as "bad" is "almost as stupid as the will to abolish bad weather". This was useful reading, and works in well with my reading of Seneca, Montaigne, and Nietzsche, and provided a helpful overview to my current reading of Epicurus, and also Tina Gilbertson's now-read Constructive Wallowing. Two quotes struck me:

A man's peace of mind does not depend upon Fortune - Seneca (p. 97)

and

I have begun to be a friend to myself - Seneca citing Hecato (p. 103).

This was an easy read but made easier by my familiarity with the other authors. Had I read this without that understanding I have developed over the last year, I would have missed much. Yet I think it is a good overview of why:

The unexamined life is not worth living - Socrates.

De Botton's work also provides an interesting introduction to the use of reason and choice to overcome what distresses us.

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Constructive (W)allowing: or, What Makes Me Cringe Makes Me Stronger

The Scream by Edvard Munk, 1893. Public Domain via Wikimedia.

Constructive Wallowing: How to Beat Bad Feelings by Letting Yourself Have Them by Tina Gilbertson

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

This book is written in large print with large line-spacing and uses graphics to fill the pages. The result is a large book that would otherwise be rather small. It is more of a manual with tests and activities. I learnt a good deal from this book about having one's emotions, and it supplements Stoic philosophy neatly in that it provides a way to "have" one's emotions without necessarily acting on them. For the Stoics, we have our emotions but it is our behaviour that is good or bad, rather than the external event. I have found Stoic philosophy useful in that through daily practice and reflection, one can learn to accept what one can and cannot control, and be "indifferent" to external events. But to be Stoic is different from being stoic, yet there is little to address the emotions that one inevitably "has", other than to choose how one reacts to one's emotions. Gilbertson's approach is like a Stoicism for the emotions. Through daily practice, one can learn to experience one's emotions through (w)allowing. An interesting approach to understanding emotions is to exchange the words think and feel in a sentence. If the words are not interchangeable, then it is a feeling. For example, "I feel angry" does not work as "I think angry". Whereas "I think I have been treated unjustly" and "I feel I have been treated unjustly" are interchangeable, hence the former is an emotion but the latter is not. Recognising and giving names to one's emotions is one approach to let emotions happen (as opposed to acting on them). Keeping a three-times daily journal to record how one feels over a two-week period is an interesting way to recognise emotional patterns and to practice recognising, naming, and experiencing one's emotions. I must admit that most of the book made me cringe a little, and I found myself unable to read it in public - the thought of someone seeing me reading this book probably explains why I scored a 14 on the test, and therefore I probably need to (w)allow in private! Like Stoic journalling, I can see the point in (w)allowing, and the drip, drip, drip of experience and reflection working to improve oneself. The final straw was on reflecting on how I feel/think, I stumbled upon "I feel guilty/I think guilty" - here I am naming my emotion. But no, there is a section devoted to guilty - being guilty is a fact, not an emotion. Obviously I have much to learn and while I still cringe at this book, I will be adding some of Gilbertson's activities to my daily journalling ritual, which at present includes James Allen (referred to by Gilbertson), La Rochefoucauld, and The Daily Stoic, and I will see what happens. I found Gilbertson's work via my subscription to Psychology Today, and I have since read many of her articles which are available online.

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On Friendship, Conversation, Women, and Dying a Good Death by the Father of the Essay

Effigie of Michel de Montaigne, 1593 , Musée d'Aquitaine, Bordeaux, France. Photo: Wikimedia/Pline CC BY-SA 3.0

On Friendship by Michel de Montaigne

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Philosopher of the French Renaissance and father of the essay, Michel de Montaigne's work provides an interesting self-analysis that reminds me of Oliver Wendell Holmes, less the tongue-in-cheek wittiness. Montaigne draws on Ancient Greek and Roman classics repeatedly, which indicates the mood of the Renaissance. Some suggest that his topics parallel the Stoics, especially the final essay on dying well. Montaigne's ready dismissal of women as other than rational beings reflects the attitude of the times, but in this one senses a form of earlier institutional sexism that is far from rational. However, Montaigne's nonsense might be overlooked given the work was written in the 16th century. His essays on friendship and conversation provide many lessons that are applicable today, as is the discussion of idleness, and the importance of having purpose in one's life. I could not help but think of Woody Allen in Montaigne's discussion of the love of a father for his children, and the ideas of Freud and other modern psychologists expand on these very themes (of course, the Oedipus complex stems from the Ancients). Of particular note is Montaigne's public self-analysis. Not in the bare-all sense, but certainly in how he discusses one's foibles and braggartry, and how one might self-assess the worth of one's own work. I suspect Screech's translation gives the work such a modern voice, and I can only wonder (on this first reading of any of Montaigne's work) how much is lost in translation.

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What's in a Game? Berne's glimpse into the beginnings of the behavioural turn in the social sciences

Freud's Last Session. Photo: Kevin Sprague on Flickr CC BY-ND 2.0

Games People Play: The Psychology of Human Relationships by Eric Berne

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I first read this book in about 2003. It was suggested to me by a woman with big hair who was making comments about other women with big hair. Bizarre! But I didn't see that game in Berne's work. As I began reading, I was struck by the 1960s tone. It was like watching the scene in Mad Men where Don Draper is discussing Betty's "psychological" problems with her psychiatrist, and the husband has more control over the process than the wife. Issues of American middle-class culture in the '60s emerge from time to time, and I wondered how such a book would fare today! It would be a candidate for the game of "Outrage" no less! But this time, I tried to comprehend the transactional analysis process by writing it down and going over the basis premises of games, and the social versus psychological roles of Parent, Adult, and Child, and how transgressions of social and psychological roles can lead to various games and situations. There is an emphasis on the results of group therapy and the therapist's observations of games, and it is clear that one is glimpsing the developmental stages of the profession of psychology (not so much psychiatry) as we know it today. Berne's work is based on his earlier publication, Transactional Analysis in Psychotherapy, and while it is suitable for a well-read general audience, the psychology professional is clearly in mind. I daresay the analyses and types of games have developed significantly since the book was written, but it is rather helpful in recognising different types of "games people play", even if all one can do is identify and then avoid such games. There are elements of Berne's idea of games that resonate with game theory in political science, albeit with less rigour in identifying the inherent biases. Nonetheless, it must be acknowledged that the behavioural revolution in political science was only beginning at this same time, and no doubt Berne was at the forefront of this revolution that continues to influence the social sciences.

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The Art of Letter Writing; or, Send a Letter, Post-Haste!

Letter writing is not entirely dead (just yet)

To the Letter: The Lost Art of Letter Writing and How to Get It Back by Simon Garfield

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This is a quirky book about the lost art of letter writing. I started writing letters again a few years ago, writing to family and later friends. My family and I still correspond but no friends ever returned a letter. One gentlemen did email me, saying he was pleasantly surprised to receive a handwritten letter, but that he used email these days. I have a letter waiting to go to my sister as I write this, and she will respond in kind. Garfield (his name was Garfunkel but this was changed by his forebears during the war; Simon Garfunkel would have been novel) touches on the re-emerging cult of letter writers, but begins at the beginning with the letters of Ancient Greece, and later Seneca et al., and mentions a number of famous authors and artists and their famous collections of letters that exist to this day. I did not know about Pliny the Younger's account of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, nor many other letter-writing stories of old. The book is cleverly punctuated with letter from a soldier to a woman who becomes his pen pal/girlfriend during the Second World War, and the story of their growing love unfolds as does the history of the letter (and to some extent, the post). I found myself wanting to finish each chapter to get to the love story. It has inspired me to tackle a few of the as yet unexplored volumes of letters I have in my library: The Letters of Ernest Hemingway (three volumes), George Orwell: A Life in Letters, The Letters of John Keats, and, although not strictly letters, but The Journal of Sir Walter Scott. Garfield's work is well-referenced and provides a stack of further reading. This book was a gift, and while I may not have chosen it myself, it was an enjoyable and enlightening read, both from a historical perspective and also as one who might consider letter-writing, at least to my family, a form of hobby. I was surprised by the number of typographical errors in this book, typically words missing the plural where it was required and other words repeated other words repeated (like that), and while it is understandable that almost all but the longest surviving (and therefore most edited) works will have some typos, there were quite a few here. Nevertheless, there were many snippets of history I was completely unaware of, and for that alone it was useful, but as a complete package, with the love story intertwined, this is a delightful book and I am pleased to now have it in my collection.

See also: The Art of Manliness: The Art of Letter Writing.

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On the Origins of the "Great Man" Theory of Leadership

Thomas Carlyle, 1795 - 1881. Historian and essayist, 1879.
By Mrs Helen Allingham (1848 - 1926) (Scottish). Public Domain via Wikimedia.

On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History by Thomas Carlyle

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Thomas Carlyle's lectures On Heroes, Hero-worship, and the Heroic in History were delivered in 1840, and published as a book in 1841 by James Fraser, London. My version is a public domain reprint of the 1912 version published by D.C. Heath, Boston, edited and with an introduction by Herbert S. Murch, PhD, of Princeton University. I first learnt of Carlyle in teaching leadership, where this book is regarded as the first leadership theory, the "Great Man" theory. Carlyle considers the hero as divinity (Odin), prophet (Mohammed), poet (Dante, Shakespeare), priest (Luther, Knox), man of letters (Johnson, Rousseau, Burns), and king (Cromwell, Napoleon). Of note is his Orientalism toward the Prophet Mohammed. In his treatise of prophet as hero, the Muslim Prophet is sincere, yet Carlyle repeatedly turns on the Prophet in his other chapters. Notable, too, is his treatment of any hero who is not related directly to the history of England (i.e. Odin and Luther), in that Mohammed, Rousseau, Dante, and Napoleon are heroes to the non-English, and therefore cannot escape this title, but are otherwise overly-emotional hypocrites and shams in their beliefs, if not in their honour in pursuing their (otherwise incorrect) convictions. Yet Carlyle seems to use this as a vehicle for rhetoric, rather than admonishment, and his respect for these non-Anglo heroes is obvious, where he is not attempting to convince his audience that he is using these only by way of example, rather than having any respect for the "other" that is anymore than skin-deep. Nevertheless, his espousal of the "Great Man" theory is more detailed than the leadership textbooks would suggest, as it is easily dismissed due to contemporary sensibilities, yet in its historical context, it is an important starting point for any student of leadership. This edition is well-supported by notes, but it must be taken as a transcript of a lecture. If one reads this as a coherent "book", the speech is enthusiastic, to say the least, and makes for difficult reading. But after a couple of false starts, I was able to envisage Carlyle giving his lectures, and by imagining the reading to be the man actually speaking, the "book" reads quite well. I find it difficult to rate this work higher than three stars, as it is a bit like reading a medical text of the times on the benefit of leeches - in hindsight, there is much to debate. However, when one considers Carlyle's influence on the likes of Ralph Waldo Emerson, this is no light-weight intellectual, but someone like James Mill to Ricardo and Bentham, and therefore not to be too readily dismissed.

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Why Governments Shouldn't Over-Step the Mark; or, It happened before and it could happen again...

Prince of Orange Landing at Torbay, engraving by William Miller after J M W Turner (Rawlinson 739), published in The Art Journal 1852 (New Series Volume IV). George Virtue, London, 1852. Public Domain via Wikimedia.

The Second Treatise of Government/A Letter Concerning Toleration by John Locke

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Locke is one of the many philosophers I am familiar with through secondary sources. but this was my first reading of his work. In the Second Treatise of Government, Locke painstakingly covers power in the parental, political, commonwealth, legislative, and tyrannical modes, leading to a conclusion that is equally applicable to social contract theory (explicitly put by Jean-Jacques Rousseau) and the doctrine of the separation of powers. What is taken for granted in liberal democracies today has a clear lineage to Locke. This book also contains Locke's Letter Concerning Toleration, focusing on freedom of the practice of religion. Freedom of speech and religion are major themes in the letter, with Locke reinforcing what many still regard as proper democratic practice: punish those who break the law, rather than discriminate against individuals with religious characteristics that may, because of unfamiliar or incomprehensible (to conservatives, at least) differences that the dominant group may find confronting. I held the view while reading the Treatise that this might only apply to Christians, but the Letter makes it clear that while "Mahometans" might be "rightly considered" infidels (by Christians), they (and anyone of any religion, even atheists) still had the right to live, work, prosper, and worship as they saw fit so long as they did so with respect for the rule of law. It is interesting that the concepts of liberalism, the social contract, the doctrine of the separation of powers, and the "rule of law" all make an appearance in these works, these are not explicitly mentioned or defined. Yet the definitions and justifications of these concepts used in the present reflect precisely Locke's ideas. That he is known as the "father of liberalism" makes a good deal of sense. Reading Hobbes will be an important endeavour, but so too is the understanding of history, especially of the "Glorious Revolution of 1688", in understanding Locke's work. I also need to read Burke and Kant. While it would probably be smarter to begin at the beginning and work my way through in some sort of chronological order in reading some of the greatest thinkers in political theory, but at the same time, I enjoy the haphazard manner in the same way that one can enjoy a jigsaw puzzle. Not that I pretend that I can ever complete this endeavour, but each completed reading adds a sense of understanding that would otherwise never be gained. Finally, Locke was surprisingly easy to read. Hobbes will be much harder, but there is something about the Enlightenment that changed the nature of written English. Laurence Sterne, too, has a modern form yet it is of the eighteenth century, but Locke's style is not too far removed. I had never considered before how written English may have changed to attract a larger audience. I have been grappling with whether to drop the essay as a form of assessment for undergraduate students (where possible), but also felt like I may be selling out. But an important lesson from history is that it has happened before, and it will happen again; the world never did fall apart. And so we may well be in that space once more. Not because of Facebook, or short attention spans, but because of an undoing of the intellectual elite. Just a thought.

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An Edification by Epictetus: On Faith, Reason, Immanence, and Transcendentalism

Faith and Reason united, by Ludwig Seitz, circa 1887. Public Domain via Wikimedia

The Discourses by Epictetus

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Today's entry in Ryan Holiday's The Daily Stoic reads: "There is hardly an idea in Stoic philosophy that wouldn't be immediately agreeable to a child". This is how I feel about Epictetus' The Discourses. It all seems like so much common sense once argued in the written word. The Discourses is a transcription of Epictetus' various lectures, recorded by his student, Arrian. Once, my lectures on political economy were transcribed for an entire semester for a hearing-impaired student, and I recall reading my spoken words with a sense of awe: how was it that I could speak such things but could not readily put these same ideas on paper? It is a powerful way to record ideas. The parallels between Epictetus' Stoicism and Christianity, especially the New Testament, are remarkable. Many of the key gospel sayings are apparent in Epictetus; work. This is not a new discovery - many have demonstrated the links between Stoicism and the Abrahamic religions, with Thomas Aquinas apparently quoting Epictetus in City of God - but some links remain confusing. For instance, Epictetus constantly refers to "god" (as opposed to "God"), but he is not always referring to Zeus (except were the name Zeus is used explicitly). The absence of the other Greek and Roman gods gives me the impression (managing one's "impressions" is a large part of Stoic philosophy) that Epictetus was a monotheist. I have discovered links between the Stoics and Ralph Waldo Emerson, but there is a difference that is worthy of further investigation, which requires a study of Kant. Epictetus' "god" is "immanent", meaning: "being within the limits of possible experience and knowledge". This contrasts with Emerson's "transcendent" God, where "transcendence" is defined in the Kantian sense as "being beyond the limits of of all possible experience and knowledge". I find the distinction between the Transcendentalists and the Stoics to be somewhat difficult to comprehend. For Emerson, God was in each of us individually, but what was in us was also part of a greater God that we all shared. If the Stoics' immanent god is wholly within our experience, as in, one's "acting in accordance with nature", or, to put it another way, one's "acting in accordance with god" - or otherwise suffering the consequences which include unhappiness, to the point where suicide, not through personal trauma, but for one's inability to act in accordance with nature, is a legitimate Stoic "opt out" action - but at the same time, being human necessarily means sharing fellowship in accordance with nature, then is this not Transcendentalist? Clearly, a thorough reading of Kant is required to comprehend this distinction. Yet Epictetus provides, for me, the most thorough understanding of Stoic philosophy. It is probably necessary to have a firm grasp on the ideas of Heraclitus, the works of Homer, and at least a working knowledge of Epicurus and the Cynics, but otherwise, The Discourses comes close to a practical religious handbook. I mean this in the sense that The Handbook (Enchiridion) is like an overview of Stoic thought, whereas The Discourses fills in the spiritual dimensions of the philosophy. I have often cringed when reading Atheistic and science-reifying comments about religion, but Epictetus does no such thing. It is apparent that faith and reason are not incompatible, and Nietzsche was right in that "God is dead and we killed Him". I have often met academic colleagues who will state that racism has no place in Academe, in that it has no basis in reason; yet applying the same argument to religion is a bridge too far. Epictetus makes it clear that faith and reason go hand in hand, in that first principles of Stoic philosophy require an understanding that acting in accordance with god (or God, does it matter?) requires faith in the existence of a god, which without would mean that philosophy is built on shifting sands, in that if God does not exist then there is no meaning to life. To be sure, to cling dogmatically to any one interpretation of the first-principle god would be to challenge the philosophy built upon it, but if one were seeking to apply faith and reason in one sitting, then The Discourses is the most comprehensible philosophy to do just that. And this, to me, makes The Discourses one of the most useful, insightful, and edifying books I have ever read.

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On Women, Booze, and Bureaucracy: Bukowski's Post Office

Charles Bukowski. Photo by Carl via Flickr CC BY 2.0

Post Office by Charles Bukowski

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I knew nothing of Bukowski until his work was recommended to me, especially his poetry, but I opted for his first novel instead. I recall watching Mickey Rourke and Fay Dunaway in Barfly, but I was just out of high school and it bored me. I found Woody Allen movies to be boring, then, too. Today, Woody Allen's movies are my favourite, so it might be worth giving Mickey another chance soon. Post Office reads like a cross between Jack Kerouac and a beatnik version of John Steinbeck. The cover blurb suggests his punctuation is all over the shop, but aside from a few instances of bizarrely-placed periods, it wasn't as distracting as I thought. It was also meant to be a story about American low-lifes, but that, too, seemed to be a misnomer. The protagonist, Henry Chinaski, is an anti-hero par excellence. His womanising, boozing, and gambling may have been somewhat shocking in 1971, but by today's standards, his conventional vices are more Dean Martin than Ozzy Osbourne. Even Kerouac's Sal Paradise was more hard-core than Chinaski. I'd even go so far to say that Chinaski was a moralising anti-hero, with moments of compassion and Protestant-like work ethic interrupting his otherwise conventional shenanigans. At the same time, much like Burt Reynolds in the opening scene of The Longest Yard (1974), Chinaski isn't, let's say, very chivalrous. But then he is a dog-lover, so his crassness balances itself out somewhat. I couldn't put the book down and finished it in one sitting. There are some elements of unconventional literature, such as an entire chapter of official letters from the post office, but these are used cleverly and the reader will sympathise with Chinaski's boredom with bureaucracy. One gets the sense that Chinaski is not only physically missing while one reads this part, and the innovation serves its purpose well. I am not sure if I am ready to start reading poetry in detail, but this work, along with my current reading of Thomas Carlyle's On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and The Heroic in History with one chapter devoted to Dante and Shakespeare focusing on "The Hero as Poet", has piqued my interest. If one can suspend current realities and overlook the attitudes of the past that are distasteful in the present, then the work is enjoyable. But what excites me is that this is Bukowski's first novel, written at age fifty. His protagonist is about my age now at the end of the book. Typically, the anti-hero has upset all the other characters by about age 30, and the masterpiece was authored by some 23 year-old genius. Rather, Bukowski leaves me with at least a sliver of hope that I haven't squandered my last 47 years entirely.

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Love in the Time of Hollywood

Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald 1921. Photo: Smithsonian Institution via Flickr CC BY-NC 2.0

Magnetism by F. Scott Fitzgerald

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This collection of short stories is #12 of Penguin's "Great Loves" series. It includes three I have not read before: The Sensible Thing, The Bridal Party, and Magnetism, along with the classic early flapper story, Bernice Bobs Her Hair. Published in 1928, these were the very early days of Hollywood, yet Magnetism captures the celebrity spirit in a way that is all too familiar today. One can imagine, however, the low-tech environment where famous actors still roamed the suburbs, startling elevator boys with their good looks and charm. Although Hemingway chastised Fitzgerald for writing short stories for money, instead of focusing on masterpieces like Tender is the Night, Fitzgerald's short stories are far from commercial ephemera that have lost their meaning in the present. It strikes me that the only difference is, back then, only the wealthy could experience such dramas as being considered dull and trying to project oneself as desirable, witty, and fun, whereas now almost any average consumer strives for the same thing. This is a very quick read, but Fitzgerald's work doesn't disappoint. It is only a shame that his short stories are scattered far and wide - as he would have delivered them to individual magazines in an effort to earn money - that a devoted Fitzgerald fan must constantly search for ever-more Fitzgerald stories to read. Nonetheless, part of the fun is discovering, from time to time, what seems to be an bottomless well of Fitzgerald ephemera still waiting to be discovered.

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On Social Media Living Up to its Promises with Raechel Johns

Associate Professor Raechel Johns

Associate Professor Raechel Johns is a marketing specialist and Head of the School of Management at the University of Canberra. Raechel and I have been colleagues for many years. We even starred in a marketing video about ten years ago. So I asked Raechel about social media and marketing and how I was disappointed that social media had not lived up to its early promises.

Is social media any good? Or has it been over-run by commercial interests?

Raechel talks about the Gartner Hype Cycle and the "trough of disillusionment", but also says that social media provides opportunities for building social capital, learning new ideas, and creating social value.

The podcast (and our video from many years ago) are below.