« December 2004 | Main | February 2005 »
January 25, 2005
Du Bois & the Souls of Black Folk
For more information on the African-American Authors reading group this is in reference to, click here then click on "Offerings" in the menu bar. The reading group is listed among the offerings.
In the Souls of Black Folk, du Bois writes that he has two selves at war in him: Negro & American. We talked about how du Bois describes the causes of this split and we also talked about what du Bois thinks should be done about the split (and of course we talked about many other things!). While reading his book, I took du Bois very seriously that he had these two selves in him and found myself going along with him that this sort of split is the "problem of the 20th century". But it came out in the conversation that not all of us, not even those of us who are African-American, necessarily treat our identity as a race or nationality as the most important. Perhaps these are still self-identifications you have the freedom to accept and to treat as important. Is there really this freedom? Why didn't du Bois feel this sort of freedom?
As I mentioned in the discussion, I was also struck by how, in his chapter on the Reconstruction & the rise & fall of the Freedmen's Bureau, du Bois says little about the "necessary reparations" to former slaves. And elsewhere he describes the labor expended during slavery as "gifts" to America. If he's really treating slave labor as a gift, he doesn't seem to be speaking reparations rhetoric. If it's true that du Bois is not a big reparationist (I'm not sure if he is or not), that seems to me to go along with his striving to overcome his split self for a more unified self. As long as reparations are demanded, doesn't that lead us into an us vs. them mentality? If so, wouldn't that promote the inner split du Bois felt between being Negro & being American?
I also noticed that du Bois seemed to be working with two concepts of America: "white America", on the one hand, and then, on the other hand, a fuller concept of America which includes as part of its essence America's Negro population & culture. He noted more than once (if I remember correctly) that America would not be America without the Negro. In the struggle with his two selves, du Bois said he did not want to be "bleached" by America (white America), but wanted to merge his two selves, to be Negro and American. If America really already is essentially Negro, then what exactly is required for this merger? What is the nature of the challenge?
Alright! That's just some thoughts on my mind. Thanks everybody for coming and comment on whatever you like, even if I didn't mention it above and even if you didn't come to the discussion. This is all in relation to a reading group: "African-American Authors". Contact me, Drew, for info on the next meeting, when we'll be reading Marcus Garvey. My email is chastain@tulane.com or go to www.lyceumproject.com. - Drew
Posted by lyceum at 11:32 PM | Comments (0)
January 24, 2005
philo-cafe on stereotypes
We had a lively discussion on the use or misuse of stereotypes to characterize groups of people, especially in racial or ethnic categories at Philo-cafe this Sunday. Although no one advocated the banishment of all use of "types," we did distinguish some that could be limiting due to their simplistic nature. It was generally agreed that it is denegrating to reduce a person to a type who can then be dismissed as, "oh yeah, one of them..." But we also saw that national and ethnic characteristics can open up possibilites of new identies for the person, like in my case of embracing my Irish heritage and finding many meaningful links to the culture, the people (both normal size and the wee ones), and the land. One of the most useful books for me in my psych-training was by Carter and Magoldrick entitled, "Ethnicity in Family Therapy." It helped me understand the possible meanings associated with life events which I would not have dreamed of by only considering "normal" American families. Though I liked very much the freedom of self-creation advocated by Henry and Jerry, I do ascribe to the notion that we carry ethnic structures that may go back many generations. Any comments on this claim?
Posted by lyceum at 5:16 PM | Comments (1)
January 22, 2005
Gazing at Peeping Tom
Though we had a rich and lively discussion of Michael Powell's (1960) film "Peeping Tom, " I wanted to contunue in my ponderings. I want to come back to why Mark only attacked women, when his anguish as a child was brought on by a male figure, his father. As was brought up in the discussion, many psychoanalytic themes are brought up in this movie and one of them is displacement. Displacement is the psychological operation in which the affects felt towards the original object are transferred to another object that is less threatening. Mark formed a reaction formation around his father that idealized him and repressed his rage. His father, as the renowned, published psychologist, was beyond reproach. Mark protected his introjected father from his rage because, as in so many cycles of abuse, the father would show affection and warmth to the son after torturing him with the experiments in fear. This form of reinforcement is very powerful. Mark's rage then gets displaced on to the secondary object which is the vampy intruder that took Mark's mother's place six weeks after her death. He focused his vengeance on representatives of the secondary object and, by filming them like his father, performs the Oedipal feat of identification with the father (and with the aggressor) thereby incorporating his power.
Posted by lyceum at 9:21 AM | Comments (2)
January 9, 2005
The Explanation & Probability of Cowinkidinks
Being a philosophy lover, it's no coincidence that I like to ponder coincidences. Not that I think the cosmos is literally talking to me when I encounter the word "onomatopoetic" in three unrelated contexts in one day. Not that I think God is affirming my lifestyle when the bus shows up in 10 seconds and all the lights are green. And it's not that I believe I'm actually influencing the world directly with my thoughts when I remember an old friend in California a few minutes before he calls. People do like to explain coincidences in such ways (as did some in our philo-cafe discussion), but I don't think it's necessary to explain a coincidence in order to appreciate it. Me, I just like to ponder the personal meaning of such wondrous coincidences (which isn't the same as "explaining" a coincidence exactly, maybe), and sometimes I just like to bask in the wonder. Interpreting things with an attitude of wonder - sounds like philosophy at its best to me.
Why are coincidences so wondrous, I wonder? At the philo-cafe, we seemed to agree that the improbability of two or more events occurring together is almost always the culprit. With improbability comes the feeling that, really, someone or something must be responsible for the otherwise unlikely occurrence (you maybe even be responsible, if unconsciously). It's at this point that explanation rears its (I think) ugly head. As I discovered in the conversation, there's at least one sort of coincidence-explanation which I don't like, and which I termed "finite explanation". And that's the sort of explanation which closes off further interpretation (and so closes off further wonder).
Like, say that I explain the event of my friend calling a few minutes after I think about him in this way:
"Well, there are mind waves (call them 'psych-waves') which move quite fast, as fast as light, and whenever I think of someone, my mind sends out psych-waves to the object of my thought. If the object of my thought is a person, that person will be reminded of me."
Let's say this is true. It may be novel to humanity at first to discover there are psych-waves which behave in this manner, but once science figures out how psych-waves work, the event of my friend calling, which earlier seemed a wondrous coincidence, will be about as interesting as water boiling because you turned the heat up on the stove.
I call this the "psych-wave" explanation a finite explanation because it closes off further interpretation of the original event. Once it's all explained, the wonder's gone. If there's no real coincidence, loss of wonder is okay, I suppose. But I think a lot of wonderful coincidences get ruined with unsupported finite explanations.
I could say more about that, but this is a blog, not an essay. Ultimately, I'm a skeptic of coincidence-meaning who still wonders at a good coincidence. You may tell me: "But how do you explain extremely improbable sets of occurences?" Like this: "I'm sure that, in all probability, everyone's due for a good number of improbable occurrences in life." Improbable coincidences would for that reason be probable. Probably. - Drew
Posted by lyceum at 8:44 PM | Comments (0)
January 7, 2005
The Misfits
David asked us to think about whether there was some existentialism in The Misfits. Such a theme came through clearest for me in the question (wondered by both Roslyn & Gay - Monroe & Gable, that is): Is marriage "it"? Which seemed to mean: are you secure in life from then on out? Their answer: no, there is never an "it" in life, in this sense. There is only change, "the next thing" I think Roslyn called it.
Which leads me to wonder if the movie had a happy ending, and, if so, if it was appropriate (something else we wondered about in the discussion). I think the *movie* ended happily, yes, and that this was appropriate (the last view seemed to have put me in the minority). The movie had ups and downs throughout, and the *movie* ended on more of an "up", at least for the main characters, Roslyn & Gay. What's wrong with that? Why is it so important that the movie end on a "down"? (I could guess some things, but I'd like to hear what people say.)
I'd add that, although the *movie* ended happily (and abruptly, too), the movie suggested to me no guarantee that the *story* ended happily. The movie suggested more powerfully that life has ups and downs and you never know what the next thing will be. Once you get this from the movie, why is it important that the movie end on a down rather than an up?
Finally, anyone who'd like to help clarify the meaning of the paddleball scene, please comment right away. ... 14, 15, 16 ... - Drew
Posted by lyceum at 10:40 AM | Comments (3)