My question today is who benefits the most from the belief that the bible is the infallible word of God?
My answer is that the publishing companies benefit the most from the perpetuation of this belief (myth), and have perhaps even more interest in this than your average believer. Why? Because the myth encourages people not just to buy one copy, indiscriminately, but to buy multiple copies to compare to one another (to really discover what is really there). It also creates the paranoia that one doesn't have the "right" translation, that maybe this translation was good when I was fifteen, but now that I'm 22 I need to buy a more "literal" translation, or what I really need is something paraphrased, annotated, expanded. Without the belief that there is a real truth in the text that needs to be translated properly, the industry would never be able to support as many different translations in English as it does. What other text supports this many translations?
Part of the difference is that the bible has been translated into English more than any other work in a foreign language. But while I could name 15 different translations of the bible, I could name a maximum of two translations for any other work (Constance Garnett and Richard Pevear translating Crime and Punishment, for instance). The interesting thing here is that no one knows who translated the translations of the bible. Certainly, they're listed in the credits, but if anyone in my church could name one bible translator except Eugene Peterson, I would be shocked. The benefit of this (to publishers) is that it provides the illusion that something objective is being captured. The translator is hidden because we are supposed to forget that it is a translated work (and because there are usually a lot of translators).
Of course, money is just one type of benefit, and I'm sure there are many people who maintain their own power by perpetuating the myth. But I'm coming to see text as commodity, and more observant to the ways in which the object of the text is advertised and sold. It's unavoidable that text is designed to sell. Once again, lets think of bible versions, of which there is a huge plethora to supply any translation in any shape and format. Each is designed to interest a certain buyer, whether that buyer wants features or the illusion of the text on its own without features or commentary (the stark, leather covered "The Holy Bible" bible is just as designed to appeal, as it simultaneously claims to be avoiding all forms of appeal).
In what house are there so many copies of the same book? Everyone needs a personal copy of the bible.
This is significant to me in some ways because the rise of the printing press coincided with modernity and its conceptions of truth as objective, factual, literal.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
tricks
Recent idea of mine: if I ever publish a book, I will also write and try to publish a review of my own book that totally slams it and points out all its weaknesses and urges people not to buy it. As one friend pointed out to me, this means that my critics would have nothing to say!
As far as my biography, I am worried about an absence: my correspondence. I am bad about keeping a clean inbox, but there's still so much I delete, and that others delete. How will my correspondence be preserved? Is it even significant enough for my biography? Is it well written? I suppose I can't win at everything.
I'm interested in the ways in which criticism and interpretation act as narrative. That is, there have been certain cases lately where I have read criticism on a book, then read the book, and been shocked by how little of the book's narrative was contained in the criticism. I've read the book and found a drastically different narrative than what I believed the narrative would be. This happens when I write my own essays, of course, because there's too much too account for. But it's interesting to me that criticism and interpretation is really a creative process that ends in a new narrative, more than it is an explication of "what is there." Of course, this is unaccpetable to anyone trying (for example) to discover truth "what it REALLY says" by interpreting the bible, since any interpretation alters the narrative itself, so they're no longer interpreting the bible but telling the story they want to tell (or feel obliged to tell).
I'm also interested in precision as an excess of information, and editing as a necessary economy of information. At times I feel obliged to explain myself or my thoughts as precisely as possible. Lately, I've been discarding this for the sake of communication, and as paring away excess information, where precision would be too confusing or counter to my purposes in communication. Partly this is in writing, but partly in just talking to people, telling people about my day, etc. Sometimes this means I alter the details of a story: it is confusing and disengaging to say I heard something from a friend who heard it from a friend, rather than saying that I witnessed it myself, or heard it from a friend. When it's actually important, I'll maintain the accuracy of where I received information/narrative, but usually it's not important. But I operate on the assumption that people are always on the point of not listening, or not reading, and feel the need to explain things in a way that is either entertaining or brief.
I also, I assume that no matter how precise I am, people still won't understand, so I might as well exaggerate and/or edit. I don't mean that to be dramatic about myself, but about anyone, everyone.
I've also noticed recently how little I talk about theology on here, whereas that used to be 90% of what I talked about. In part, that's just because I'm not thinking about it much, and in a lot of ways I don't know what use God or Jesus have in my life.
But in other ways I think it's because I don't know yet how to do theology, and that most of what passes for theology isn't theology, it's biblical exegesis (in Leviticus we see this...therefore God is _____ ). I think theology is supposed to be much more creative than that, and perhaps what we should learn from the bible is half what the writers say and half to do what they do, which is invent and create and discover, and to stop acting as if the bible is "truth" or that our own inventions are supposed to be truth and represent truth.
Part of what I'm also feeling is a reluctance to be an exhibitionist about God and "my relationship with him." Why is that something that anyone needs to know about? And how respectful is it to broadcast my thoughts, feelings, stories, opinions of God out to the world? And how arrogant is it to try to figure God out, like a math problem, or a trick?
As far as my biography, I am worried about an absence: my correspondence. I am bad about keeping a clean inbox, but there's still so much I delete, and that others delete. How will my correspondence be preserved? Is it even significant enough for my biography? Is it well written? I suppose I can't win at everything.
I'm interested in the ways in which criticism and interpretation act as narrative. That is, there have been certain cases lately where I have read criticism on a book, then read the book, and been shocked by how little of the book's narrative was contained in the criticism. I've read the book and found a drastically different narrative than what I believed the narrative would be. This happens when I write my own essays, of course, because there's too much too account for. But it's interesting to me that criticism and interpretation is really a creative process that ends in a new narrative, more than it is an explication of "what is there." Of course, this is unaccpetable to anyone trying (for example) to discover truth "what it REALLY says" by interpreting the bible, since any interpretation alters the narrative itself, so they're no longer interpreting the bible but telling the story they want to tell (or feel obliged to tell).
I'm also interested in precision as an excess of information, and editing as a necessary economy of information. At times I feel obliged to explain myself or my thoughts as precisely as possible. Lately, I've been discarding this for the sake of communication, and as paring away excess information, where precision would be too confusing or counter to my purposes in communication. Partly this is in writing, but partly in just talking to people, telling people about my day, etc. Sometimes this means I alter the details of a story: it is confusing and disengaging to say I heard something from a friend who heard it from a friend, rather than saying that I witnessed it myself, or heard it from a friend. When it's actually important, I'll maintain the accuracy of where I received information/narrative, but usually it's not important. But I operate on the assumption that people are always on the point of not listening, or not reading, and feel the need to explain things in a way that is either entertaining or brief.
I also, I assume that no matter how precise I am, people still won't understand, so I might as well exaggerate and/or edit. I don't mean that to be dramatic about myself, but about anyone, everyone.
I've also noticed recently how little I talk about theology on here, whereas that used to be 90% of what I talked about. In part, that's just because I'm not thinking about it much, and in a lot of ways I don't know what use God or Jesus have in my life.
But in other ways I think it's because I don't know yet how to do theology, and that most of what passes for theology isn't theology, it's biblical exegesis (in Leviticus we see this...therefore God is _____ ). I think theology is supposed to be much more creative than that, and perhaps what we should learn from the bible is half what the writers say and half to do what they do, which is invent and create and discover, and to stop acting as if the bible is "truth" or that our own inventions are supposed to be truth and represent truth.
Part of what I'm also feeling is a reluctance to be an exhibitionist about God and "my relationship with him." Why is that something that anyone needs to know about? And how respectful is it to broadcast my thoughts, feelings, stories, opinions of God out to the world? And how arrogant is it to try to figure God out, like a math problem, or a trick?
Monday, October 19, 2009
interview
Here's an interview that I conducted with my brother, Zac Franciscus, and Jaci Wilcox right before they graduated, 7 years ago. I'm not sure how funny it will be to people who didn't grow up with them. Just think of it as fuel for my biographers.
Also, considering I just read Moby Dick and loved it, I thought their comments about the book were funny.
Alex: What's the stupidest thing you've ever said to a teacher?
Zach: Uh
Jaci: Oh boy..Hah, Alex
Zac: Alex is a geek.
Zach: I've never said 'Alex is a geek' to my teacher
Zac: I never said that to my teachers
Jaci: Neither did I
Alex: I'm cutting out the insults
Zach: I don't know, I don't think I've ever said anything mean to my teacher. I think I'm just a bright, shining… [Interrupted by Jaci]
Jaci: I'm a smart person, I don't say anything stupid to my teachers.
Zac: You mean teachers here, or ever?
Alex: Ever.
Zac: Um, I was in 4th grade and my teacher threatened to give me a report on rivers and so I smart-mouthed her and basically just told her I really didn't care. So she let the class vote on how many words it was supposed to be and I ended up writing a 1,000 word paper that night.
Alex: What class do you wish the school could have had?
Jaci: Uhhhhh
Zach: Home Ec.
Zac: [Laughs]
Jaci: Actually I really do wish they did had that one…
Zach: Oh yeah, me too.
Jaci: [Giggles.] [Unprintable]
Zac: He hasn't answered seriously and I'm still thinking. I'm going to hit you. Um.
Alex: Hey, Zac, I hear rumors that on the break you're gonna be teaching Home Ec. classes, is that true?
Zac: No
Alex: I can cut anything out I want.
Zac: Umm
Jaci: Heehee, and add anything that you want.
Zac: I…I wanted…I know I wanted something a little bit ago, just trying to remember what it was.
Jaci: I wish I could have done the woodshop class. I'm pathetic when it comes to practical things like that.
Zach: I would just like anything that would broaden my horizons.
Zac: I think I should hit you. Caleb, do your work.
Zach: Can we have the next question, please?
Alex: Fine.
Zac: Yeah, I abstain.[Giggles]
Alex: What was the best year here at the school?
Jaci: I think this one.
Zach: This coming year.
Zac: Yeah, so far for me, I'll agree with Jaci. Leave Zach out on his lonesome to be an idiot.
Zach: I dunno, having Luke around was good.
Alex: How about the worst year?
Jaci: Uh..Uh..I think the second year I was here.
Alex: Why?
Jaci: 'Cause I hated school.
Zach: I've never had a worst year because I've always loved school and all my teachers.
Zac: I need a knife.
Alex: How have you contributed to the school?
Zach: Being here.
Zac: I brought about the journalism department.
Jaci: I light up the room.
Zac: Only when she wears Christmas lights around her though, that's really funny, that's only when she's drunk. Wait, we're gonna edit this.
Alex: What do you guys think of the uniforms, are you planning to burn them when school's out?
Zac: If my mother wasn't giving them to the rest of my family, I, I would.
Jaci: I like our uniforms, I think they're way better than what some people have. But I would rather not wear them
Zac: I don't think we should talk to Jaci anymore.
Zach: I think uniforms are a very wise decision as they are culturally sensitive. It's good for the community to see us wearing them.
Alex: Alright, here's a serious one. What are you guys planning to go into, your plans for after school?
Zac: A building.
Jaci: I'm gonna do a [Discipleship Training School] and then apply for medical school.
Zac: I'm doing a [Discipleship Training School] then hanging out in Pennsylvania for two months then going into Journalism at Pitt.
Zach: I'm still kind of confused about this whole part.
Alex: What was the worst book you ever read here?
Zach: Moby Dick without a question.
Jaci: Moby Dick.
Zac: If I would have read it, I would most likely agree with them. Um.
Zach: You chose to read it over the Grapes of Wrath.
Zac: I haven't started it yet.
Jaci: Choose the Grapes of Wrath, do not read Moby Dick.
Zach: I agree, by all means.
Zac: [Chuckles] I want to experience the same pains as you so I can relate to you.
Jaci: There is two remotely funny parts in the whole entire book and they wouldn't be funny if you hadn't been reading Moby Dick.
Alex: [To Zac] Worst book, worst book.
Zac: What?
Alex: Worst book.
Zac: We're having a conversation, go away.
Alex: Worst book.
Zac: Um. I really didn't like Brave New World.
Jaci: That was interesting.
Zac: I thought it was pointless and depressing.
Zach: I loved it.
Alex: What kind of animal do you think the school mascot should be?
Jaci: A weasel. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen a weasel.
Zac: Mint.
Zach: You. You animal, you.
Zac: [Throaty growl]
Alex: What's the biggest stunt you ever pulled here at school?
Zac: I switched all the locker doors one day. Remember that at our old school it would happen a lot.
Zach: I didn't wear my uniform once.
Alex: Rebel.
Zac: You rebel, you.
Jaci: Uhhh..
Zac: Lock you up now.
Alex: Jaci's another one of those rebels.
Jaci: Yeah, I'm a loser. I didn't do anything.
Zach: However I was a uh, I was uh, at least I knew about it, I could have prevented Kevin from coming in and crashing the middle school party.
Kevin: Can I object?
Zach: No.
Zac: Be quiet, Canadian.
Also, considering I just read Moby Dick and loved it, I thought their comments about the book were funny.
Alex: What's the stupidest thing you've ever said to a teacher?
Zach: Uh
Jaci: Oh boy..Hah, Alex
Zac: Alex is a geek.
Zach: I've never said 'Alex is a geek' to my teacher
Zac: I never said that to my teachers
Jaci: Neither did I
Alex: I'm cutting out the insults
Zach: I don't know, I don't think I've ever said anything mean to my teacher. I think I'm just a bright, shining… [Interrupted by Jaci]
Jaci: I'm a smart person, I don't say anything stupid to my teachers.
Zac: You mean teachers here, or ever?
Alex: Ever.
Zac: Um, I was in 4th grade and my teacher threatened to give me a report on rivers and so I smart-mouthed her and basically just told her I really didn't care. So she let the class vote on how many words it was supposed to be and I ended up writing a 1,000 word paper that night.
Alex: What class do you wish the school could have had?
Jaci: Uhhhhh
Zach: Home Ec.
Zac: [Laughs]
Jaci: Actually I really do wish they did had that one…
Zach: Oh yeah, me too.
Jaci: [Giggles.] [Unprintable]
Zac: He hasn't answered seriously and I'm still thinking. I'm going to hit you. Um.
Alex: Hey, Zac, I hear rumors that on the break you're gonna be teaching Home Ec. classes, is that true?
Zac: No
Alex: I can cut anything out I want.
Zac: Umm
Jaci: Heehee, and add anything that you want.
Zac: I…I wanted…I know I wanted something a little bit ago, just trying to remember what it was.
Jaci: I wish I could have done the woodshop class. I'm pathetic when it comes to practical things like that.
Zach: I would just like anything that would broaden my horizons.
Zac: I think I should hit you. Caleb, do your work.
Zach: Can we have the next question, please?
Alex: Fine.
Zac: Yeah, I abstain.[Giggles]
Alex: What was the best year here at the school?
Jaci: I think this one.
Zach: This coming year.
Zac: Yeah, so far for me, I'll agree with Jaci. Leave Zach out on his lonesome to be an idiot.
Zach: I dunno, having Luke around was good.
Alex: How about the worst year?
Jaci: Uh..Uh..I think the second year I was here.
Alex: Why?
Jaci: 'Cause I hated school.
Zach: I've never had a worst year because I've always loved school and all my teachers.
Zac: I need a knife.
Alex: How have you contributed to the school?
Zach: Being here.
Zac: I brought about the journalism department.
Jaci: I light up the room.
Zac: Only when she wears Christmas lights around her though, that's really funny, that's only when she's drunk. Wait, we're gonna edit this.
Alex: What do you guys think of the uniforms, are you planning to burn them when school's out?
Zac: If my mother wasn't giving them to the rest of my family, I, I would.
Jaci: I like our uniforms, I think they're way better than what some people have. But I would rather not wear them
Zac: I don't think we should talk to Jaci anymore.
Zach: I think uniforms are a very wise decision as they are culturally sensitive. It's good for the community to see us wearing them.
Alex: Alright, here's a serious one. What are you guys planning to go into, your plans for after school?
Zac: A building.
Jaci: I'm gonna do a [Discipleship Training School] and then apply for medical school.
Zac: I'm doing a [Discipleship Training School] then hanging out in Pennsylvania for two months then going into Journalism at Pitt.
Zach: I'm still kind of confused about this whole part.
Alex: What was the worst book you ever read here?
Zach: Moby Dick without a question.
Jaci: Moby Dick.
Zac: If I would have read it, I would most likely agree with them. Um.
Zach: You chose to read it over the Grapes of Wrath.
Zac: I haven't started it yet.
Jaci: Choose the Grapes of Wrath, do not read Moby Dick.
Zach: I agree, by all means.
Zac: [Chuckles] I want to experience the same pains as you so I can relate to you.
Jaci: There is two remotely funny parts in the whole entire book and they wouldn't be funny if you hadn't been reading Moby Dick.
Alex: [To Zac] Worst book, worst book.
Zac: What?
Alex: Worst book.
Zac: We're having a conversation, go away.
Alex: Worst book.
Zac: Um. I really didn't like Brave New World.
Jaci: That was interesting.
Zac: I thought it was pointless and depressing.
Zach: I loved it.
Alex: What kind of animal do you think the school mascot should be?
Jaci: A weasel. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen a weasel.
Zac: Mint.
Zach: You. You animal, you.
Zac: [Throaty growl]
Alex: What's the biggest stunt you ever pulled here at school?
Zac: I switched all the locker doors one day. Remember that at our old school it would happen a lot.
Zach: I didn't wear my uniform once.
Alex: Rebel.
Zac: You rebel, you.
Jaci: Uhhh..
Zac: Lock you up now.
Alex: Jaci's another one of those rebels.
Jaci: Yeah, I'm a loser. I didn't do anything.
Zach: However I was a uh, I was uh, at least I knew about it, I could have prevented Kevin from coming in and crashing the middle school party.
Kevin: Can I object?
Zach: No.
Zac: Be quiet, Canadian.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
the accident
When I was 16 or 17, I played ultimate frisbee every saturday afternoon at a field several miles from my house. I would drive there on my motorbike and on the way home would often stop at the local market to buy dinner. One night I was going home, it must have been later in the year because it was getting dark early, and I bought fried chicken and sticky rice. Back on the highway, I stopped at a roundabout to turn around to go home. As I was waiting for an opening in the traffic I heard a crashing sound and looked behind me to see people and a motorbike flying through the air, and then skidding along the road at high speed.
I immediately pulled off the road and went over to the first woman, who was mostly delirious and scratched up, but probably not very hurt. I carried her to a roadside restaurant where some people cleaned her off with rags. She'd bled on my bag, and I think I had some on my hand, and thought about AIDS. In hindsight, it may not have been smart for someone like me (totally without medical training) to move her, but I don't think it did any real harm. I dont remember if there was a little girl, too, but I think there may have been. I left the woman with some of the Thais and went over to the second woman. By this time, there were plenty of people crowding around on the road and it was starting to rain. The second woman was bleeding from her head (none of them were wearing helmets), and there was a puddle as thick as ketchup around her head.
I must have had a cloth, because I remember I was going to hold it to her head to staunch the blood flow, but the Thais nearby stopped me, and I couldn't understand how we could all stand there and watch her bleed out of her head, and no one would touch her or help. I still don't know why, if it was fear of disease, or of touching a dying person, or of liability, or some medical reason, but I still feel ashamed that I didnt do more to help. Eventually an ambulance came and took them away, and I went home.
A week or two later I took some friends by and showed them where it had happened, and there was still a blood stain on the road where the woman's head had been. I haven't told this story to many people, not when it happened or since. I'm not sure why. I don't think of it very often, but I was thinking about it today for some reason.
Another night, after a school dance, I was driving to a friend's house when up ahead I saw several motorbikes and a group of men on the roadside. When i drove past, I saw them dragging someone into the ditch by the side of the road. I stopped a little ways up the road, and they looked at me, but I didn't know what to do, and I was scared for myself, so I kept driving. On the way home, I went back and shone my light into the overgrown ditch, and looked around, but didn't see any bodies or any one. I still don't know what happened, whether they were helping their drunk friend throw up, or if someone was seriously injured or killed, and I witnessed them hiding a body.
I immediately pulled off the road and went over to the first woman, who was mostly delirious and scratched up, but probably not very hurt. I carried her to a roadside restaurant where some people cleaned her off with rags. She'd bled on my bag, and I think I had some on my hand, and thought about AIDS. In hindsight, it may not have been smart for someone like me (totally without medical training) to move her, but I don't think it did any real harm. I dont remember if there was a little girl, too, but I think there may have been. I left the woman with some of the Thais and went over to the second woman. By this time, there were plenty of people crowding around on the road and it was starting to rain. The second woman was bleeding from her head (none of them were wearing helmets), and there was a puddle as thick as ketchup around her head.
I must have had a cloth, because I remember I was going to hold it to her head to staunch the blood flow, but the Thais nearby stopped me, and I couldn't understand how we could all stand there and watch her bleed out of her head, and no one would touch her or help. I still don't know why, if it was fear of disease, or of touching a dying person, or of liability, or some medical reason, but I still feel ashamed that I didnt do more to help. Eventually an ambulance came and took them away, and I went home.
A week or two later I took some friends by and showed them where it had happened, and there was still a blood stain on the road where the woman's head had been. I haven't told this story to many people, not when it happened or since. I'm not sure why. I don't think of it very often, but I was thinking about it today for some reason.
Another night, after a school dance, I was driving to a friend's house when up ahead I saw several motorbikes and a group of men on the roadside. When i drove past, I saw them dragging someone into the ditch by the side of the road. I stopped a little ways up the road, and they looked at me, but I didn't know what to do, and I was scared for myself, so I kept driving. On the way home, I went back and shone my light into the overgrown ditch, and looked around, but didn't see any bodies or any one. I still don't know what happened, whether they were helping their drunk friend throw up, or if someone was seriously injured or killed, and I witnessed them hiding a body.
Friday, October 9, 2009
a short history of (my) money
1 (0-12): the earliest memory I have of money is getting a 2 dollar allowance per week. My brother spent a lot of money on nachos, we both spent money on baseball cards. Mostly, I spent money on books, legos, and playmobile, or I just threw everything in a chest that I had. When I counted up my change, it was $30. Apparently for quite a bit of this time my family was pretty bad off financially. I never felt it or felt stressed about money.
2 (12-14): When we moved back to Thailand, my parents gave us (weekly) our age with a 10x multipler (12 years old meant 120 baht a week). Once again, I have no idea what I bought with my money. I went to LAN shops sometimes, bought some snacks, but I also saved a lot of my lunch/snack money. I always had money, never had to think about it.
3 (15-19): Saved even more money, but never felt like I couldnt spend. There just wasnt that much to buy. Kept buying books, fried chicken. Parents reimbursed me for gas. Took bus rides to other towns, went to movies, went to LAN shops till all hours of the night, gave money to strangers. I always had more money than all my friends, and never understood how they could be short when I felt like I wasn't careful at all but I always had money. Never bought clothes, if I did my parents paid me back.
4 (19-20): Moved to the states and got a job. Made $5-6000 in 2 months working at a JanSport warehouse. Became extremely conservative with money, especially because of college, when I barely had enough to make my spring quarter payment. Never went out to eat, rarely bought books except for school, never went out to eat, didnt go to the doctor at times I probably should have. Before this time, I never had to consider the cost of anything. Worked in the cafeteria. Over the summer, made $2500 working for a Lutheran parish that gave me free rent. Gave money to friends for things they cared about.
5 (20-21): No job, started going to coffee shops. My friends kept me in the dorms spring quarter by giving me $2000. Went out to a lot of coffee shops, sometimes out to meals.
6 (21-22): Started going to bars, eating out more, paying monthly rather than quarterly rent and food costs. Worked at the library over summer and school year, went out places a lot, bought books I wanted, went to Oxford (where my plane tickets were paid for me by strangers, $1000+ of tuition was given to me by strangers, received $7000 in scholarships I wasnt expecting and hadnt applied for). Still feel guilty every time I dont give money to those who ask for it and those in need: "Whatever you have done for the least of these..."
I generally live my life assuming that if something is good, the money will be provided. So far, that's turned out to be true, and I don't regret giving away any amount of money, no matter how ridiculous, to anyone, whatever they spent it on. I also think I've been damn lucky, or blessed, or whatever you want to call it.
2 (12-14): When we moved back to Thailand, my parents gave us (weekly) our age with a 10x multipler (12 years old meant 120 baht a week). Once again, I have no idea what I bought with my money. I went to LAN shops sometimes, bought some snacks, but I also saved a lot of my lunch/snack money. I always had money, never had to think about it.
3 (15-19): Saved even more money, but never felt like I couldnt spend. There just wasnt that much to buy. Kept buying books, fried chicken. Parents reimbursed me for gas. Took bus rides to other towns, went to movies, went to LAN shops till all hours of the night, gave money to strangers. I always had more money than all my friends, and never understood how they could be short when I felt like I wasn't careful at all but I always had money. Never bought clothes, if I did my parents paid me back.
4 (19-20): Moved to the states and got a job. Made $5-6000 in 2 months working at a JanSport warehouse. Became extremely conservative with money, especially because of college, when I barely had enough to make my spring quarter payment. Never went out to eat, rarely bought books except for school, never went out to eat, didnt go to the doctor at times I probably should have. Before this time, I never had to consider the cost of anything. Worked in the cafeteria. Over the summer, made $2500 working for a Lutheran parish that gave me free rent. Gave money to friends for things they cared about.
5 (20-21): No job, started going to coffee shops. My friends kept me in the dorms spring quarter by giving me $2000. Went out to a lot of coffee shops, sometimes out to meals.
6 (21-22): Started going to bars, eating out more, paying monthly rather than quarterly rent and food costs. Worked at the library over summer and school year, went out places a lot, bought books I wanted, went to Oxford (where my plane tickets were paid for me by strangers, $1000+ of tuition was given to me by strangers, received $7000 in scholarships I wasnt expecting and hadnt applied for). Still feel guilty every time I dont give money to those who ask for it and those in need: "Whatever you have done for the least of these..."
I generally live my life assuming that if something is good, the money will be provided. So far, that's turned out to be true, and I don't regret giving away any amount of money, no matter how ridiculous, to anyone, whatever they spent it on. I also think I've been damn lucky, or blessed, or whatever you want to call it.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
travel writing
In which I start talking about travel writing and end up talking about how no one actually cares about what pictures are taken of.
I started reading Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle the other day, and was surprised by how little of Darwin there is in it. The Voyage is a memoir of five years of travel and research that he did aboard a ship (although he spent about 3 of those years on land), and in these memoirs he dives into biology, anthropology, history, and geology (and who-knows-what-else in what I haven't read yet). I'm interested in this on two fronts: first, how little there is of Darwin; second, how much this would fail if attempted today.
First: by reading the Voyage we would know very little about Darwin. He doesn't include anecdotes of his past or his own history, even though he is willing to talk about the lives of the people he meets. He subjects everything in his narrative to a level of observation that he never extends to himself. Darwin is in some ways the center of the text, everything is written by him and more or less about his experiences, but we learn about him not through anything he says about himself but by what he writes about everything else and the methods he employs to discover.
Here is where I swim a little into the deep end where I mostly have speculation without data.
Second: any travel writer today that attempted to make observations that are disciplinary in nature would not be taken seriously by academics or researchers. Biology, anthropology, geology, and history have solidified enough that there are acceptable methods and necessary bodies of knowledge to be able to enter into those discourses as someone who was something new and legitimate to say. So the plight of the travel writer is that someone else has studied much more in depth and systematically the things they are experiencing and observing, so that for a travel writer to make claims about social structures and customs doesnt have much weight. What's left then? The self and the experience that the self has. Without the ability to talk about what is outside, all that's left is the inside.
I'm also interested in this in correlation with photography and the development of the camera as a popular, affordable product. Most people (that I know) aren't good at writing about their traveling, and dont do it very much. Instead, they take a lot of pictures. But what is the point and what is the subject of these pictures?
One option is to use them as social commentary, but I think that just falls into sentimentality and essentialization. For instance, I show you all a picture of a Latvian man sitting on the sidewalk from my recent travels to Latvia, captioned with this: "Unemployment and poverty are sky-rocketing in Latvia." This sort of social commentary with photography is, I think, pretty useless unless it's backed up by actual research or by interacting with the subject of the photo, because what do I really know about that man, who am I to make him stand in for Latvian poverty?
So what is the point of photography? The dismal side of it is that most pictures are not unique. By that, I mean that anyone could reproduce the same picture by standing where I stood and pointing their camera at the angle I pointed. There is some level of personality in what is selected and edited, but it could still be reproduced easily. Not to mention (like someone was saying to Brent, Nate, and I the other day)...I don't know what I'm seeing. I can take a picture of hundreds of interesting buildings and alleyways and streets, but I don't know anything about them, so my selection might be informed aesthetically, but ultimately uninformed socially, culturally, politically. And the aesthetic is what most people compliment about other peoples pictures, the texture, definition, color, angle, balancing, etc. But noone would care about these pictures of the same objects if they were low resolution, pixellated, unbalanced, blown out. That is why I think that few people actually care about the subject/object of their own photography or other peoples photography.
In this sense, I think photography mostly points to the self, the one who took the picture, rather than the subject/object of the photo. Photo albums have very little to do with what is in the photos (stonehenge? who cares? there's a million better pictures out there). The function of photo albums and photography is to point to the experiences of the self: I went to Stonehenge, or Riga, and took this photo and edited it, even if I know nothing about what I'm photographing, and if the object doesn't matter to those who are viewing it. After all? Wouldn't people have the same level of appreciation of my pictures of Latvia if I claimed they were pictures of Lithuania, Estonia, Czech republic? Very few people would know enough to say that I was wrong, and no one would care in their aesthetic appreciation of it.
Perhaps this is the reason that I take absurd photographs and don't really care to put up photo albums, or to take pictures very often. The only pictures that are really interesting to me are pictures of human interactions and processes, pictures that couldn't be reproduced because no one could go back to the time/even/location of where it happened. Too bad my camera can't replicate those moments very well. And, I suppose it's really a false distinction to make between pictures of processes and pictures of still life: there is no still life, everything is a part of ongoing social, chemical, biological, economical processes, and is always changing. The idea of still life has to be scrapped!
But it's not all glass-half-empty, who says any of this is a bad thing? I suppose my instinct is to be angry about it, but I don't know that I have good reason to be.
I started reading Darwin's Voyage of the Beagle the other day, and was surprised by how little of Darwin there is in it. The Voyage is a memoir of five years of travel and research that he did aboard a ship (although he spent about 3 of those years on land), and in these memoirs he dives into biology, anthropology, history, and geology (and who-knows-what-else in what I haven't read yet). I'm interested in this on two fronts: first, how little there is of Darwin; second, how much this would fail if attempted today.
First: by reading the Voyage we would know very little about Darwin. He doesn't include anecdotes of his past or his own history, even though he is willing to talk about the lives of the people he meets. He subjects everything in his narrative to a level of observation that he never extends to himself. Darwin is in some ways the center of the text, everything is written by him and more or less about his experiences, but we learn about him not through anything he says about himself but by what he writes about everything else and the methods he employs to discover.
Here is where I swim a little into the deep end where I mostly have speculation without data.
Second: any travel writer today that attempted to make observations that are disciplinary in nature would not be taken seriously by academics or researchers. Biology, anthropology, geology, and history have solidified enough that there are acceptable methods and necessary bodies of knowledge to be able to enter into those discourses as someone who was something new and legitimate to say. So the plight of the travel writer is that someone else has studied much more in depth and systematically the things they are experiencing and observing, so that for a travel writer to make claims about social structures and customs doesnt have much weight. What's left then? The self and the experience that the self has. Without the ability to talk about what is outside, all that's left is the inside.
I'm also interested in this in correlation with photography and the development of the camera as a popular, affordable product. Most people (that I know) aren't good at writing about their traveling, and dont do it very much. Instead, they take a lot of pictures. But what is the point and what is the subject of these pictures?
One option is to use them as social commentary, but I think that just falls into sentimentality and essentialization. For instance, I show you all a picture of a Latvian man sitting on the sidewalk from my recent travels to Latvia, captioned with this: "Unemployment and poverty are sky-rocketing in Latvia." This sort of social commentary with photography is, I think, pretty useless unless it's backed up by actual research or by interacting with the subject of the photo, because what do I really know about that man, who am I to make him stand in for Latvian poverty?
So what is the point of photography? The dismal side of it is that most pictures are not unique. By that, I mean that anyone could reproduce the same picture by standing where I stood and pointing their camera at the angle I pointed. There is some level of personality in what is selected and edited, but it could still be reproduced easily. Not to mention (like someone was saying to Brent, Nate, and I the other day)...I don't know what I'm seeing. I can take a picture of hundreds of interesting buildings and alleyways and streets, but I don't know anything about them, so my selection might be informed aesthetically, but ultimately uninformed socially, culturally, politically. And the aesthetic is what most people compliment about other peoples pictures, the texture, definition, color, angle, balancing, etc. But noone would care about these pictures of the same objects if they were low resolution, pixellated, unbalanced, blown out. That is why I think that few people actually care about the subject/object of their own photography or other peoples photography.
In this sense, I think photography mostly points to the self, the one who took the picture, rather than the subject/object of the photo. Photo albums have very little to do with what is in the photos (stonehenge? who cares? there's a million better pictures out there). The function of photo albums and photography is to point to the experiences of the self: I went to Stonehenge, or Riga, and took this photo and edited it, even if I know nothing about what I'm photographing, and if the object doesn't matter to those who are viewing it. After all? Wouldn't people have the same level of appreciation of my pictures of Latvia if I claimed they were pictures of Lithuania, Estonia, Czech republic? Very few people would know enough to say that I was wrong, and no one would care in their aesthetic appreciation of it.
Perhaps this is the reason that I take absurd photographs and don't really care to put up photo albums, or to take pictures very often. The only pictures that are really interesting to me are pictures of human interactions and processes, pictures that couldn't be reproduced because no one could go back to the time/even/location of where it happened. Too bad my camera can't replicate those moments very well. And, I suppose it's really a false distinction to make between pictures of processes and pictures of still life: there is no still life, everything is a part of ongoing social, chemical, biological, economical processes, and is always changing. The idea of still life has to be scrapped!
But it's not all glass-half-empty, who says any of this is a bad thing? I suppose my instinct is to be angry about it, but I don't know that I have good reason to be.
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