Le Monde 100: The Name of the Rose

"You are more like me than you realize."

In the insatiable quest for certainty,  humans have to negotiate with reality as well as what we tell ourselves is reality.

              The obvious boggle in this chain of interaction is the fact that ALL reality must pass through the filter of what we tell ourselves, making it quite easy for us to interpret things through the further filters of our biases. This is the main tool used by the "treacherous heart."

             Take skepticism. Skepticism is not a position one takes in the world, but rather a methodology. Skeptics pride themselves on being completely objective and without bias in evaluating claims about "reality." The group of people primarily associated with skepticism are scientists as they apply scientific method to their belief systems in order to determine a objectivity without the use of presumptions and "common sense." However, there is a trap to wearing the mantle of skepticism in the fact that it can bring credibility to hidden biases through "selective skepticism."

             In the article "The Myth of Consistent Skepticism: The Cautionary Case of Albert Einstein," Todd C. Riniolo and Lee Nisbet discuss the ways that our hidden natures may cause us to make claims in the face of strong evidence to the contrary: "We all look for evidence that is consistent with our beliefs. In short, we tend to believe what we wish to be true, but we do so 'objectively.' Specifically, we typically do not seek out discrediting evidence for our current beliefs with the same vigor that we look for supportive evidence . Psychologists call this a confirmation bias."

              This is when conservatives only watch Fox News and liberals only listen to NPR. The article writes that a true skeptic would  "would apply the methods of skepticism to all claims consistently and evaluate the evidence in an unbiased manner (i.e., without double standards)" and "should obviously use discrediting information to modify beliefs."

               One would think that Albert Einstein as the most famous scientist that ever lived would be a walking testament to consistent skepticism. However, outside of theoretical physics, he allowed his sympathies and feelings to intrude on his beliefs. Under Nazism, Einstein ignored the political propaganda of the state and harshly criticized the actions of the regime, namely the oppression of liberty. He supported Socialism, specifically the model created by the Soviet Union and trumpeted their virtues. 

               However, as time passed, the reports of human rights being smashed by the Soviet empire started to trickle west. Did Einstein maintain his objective attitude toward this political system that he held dear? The article continues:

               "Einstein refused to join or endorse an international commission headed by John Dewey to investigate the Moscow Show Trials (a consistent skeptic would seek both confirmatory and discrediting evidence) and would subsequently write to Max Born that “there are increasing signs the Russian trials are not faked, but that there is a plot among those who look upon Stalin as a stupid reactionary who has betrayed the ideas of the revolution” (quoted in Born 1971, p. 130). Born would later comment that most people in the West at the time believed the trials “to be the arbitrary acts of a cruel dictator.” Einstein, however, relied upon information from people he described as “those who know Russia best.”

               As painful as the commission might have been for Einstein, as a scientist he should of known that the same methods he used to examine particles and waveforms apply just as effectively to political systems. Yet, he was perfectly fine to allow his confirmation bias dictate reality for him. 

               This is what happens when we think of intellectual things with our emotions. In The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, the Catholic monks that cared for the greatest library in Christendom went to great lengths to prevent access to of one of Aristotle's books. The reason was quite succinnct:

"the work of our order and in particular the work of this monastery, a part- indeed, the substance - is study, and the preservation of knowledge. . . Preservation of, I say, not search for, because it is property of knowledge, as a human thing, that it has been defined and completed over the course of centuries, from the preaching of the prophets to the interpretations of the fathers of the church." 

              Confirmation bias is a preservation of knowledge, not a search for it. 

              To truly search for the knowledge of reality, one must search inside themselves to find the will to face it.

Le Monde 100: The Blue Lotus

There has been a lot of Tintin hoopla lately in America with the Peter Jackson movie released a few months ago. I've always liked the idea of Tintin. But, honestly, the Tintin books were what I had flip past in order to get to the Asterix books, seeing that they were both originally in French and the same size and fairly steeped in geekery.

After reading The Blue Lotus as a grown person, the revelations of societal mores and the boundaries of political correctness are really the only thing I can think about.

Herge was quite outspoken and heavy-handed about racism (here toward Asians) yet he still portrayed Asians in a way that would be unacceptable by today's standards.


For instance, Herge's philosophy is quite clear here:

However, in the very next panel, we are following the exploits of this guy:

I'm sure Herge would never have drawn  anything offensive if he was aware of it. Culturally, our awareness of race and propriety emerges gradually. It must have been an awkward transition for Europeans to shift their value system away from a colonialist perspective that was something that was less self-centered. Tintin was in the heart of this change. I mean just look at this twenty-something's luggage!

One has to wonder what we are saying now that will be offensive to future generations but don't even get me started on Tintin in the Congo.

Le Monde 100: Alcools

Anyone who is passionate enough about art to aid and abet the theft of the Mona Lisa, blame it on Pablo Picasso while calling for the immolation of the Lourve has a complicated enough relationship with art to make his poetry at least worthy of a small consideration. Guillaume Apollinaire's legacy is probably the most widely felt as the man who coined the word "Surrealism" in reference to the Dada art movement and its offshoots.
One thing that I have noticed about Surrealist art is its incredible subjectiveness. The meaning and messages behind many of its pieces are so localized and particular to the personal situation of the artist that one must absolutely have some knowledge of the lifestyle and context of the artist in order to deduce any understanding of the piece.
The same is true of Apollinaire's poetry in his collection Alcools. 
I must confess that I do not understand much of his poems as they are so specific to him. However, some of the imagery he evokes in his writing is so beautiful and odd that I don't care if I know what he's talking about. FOR INSTANCE:

The horizon screams an eagle pouncing
And from America there comes a hummingbird
From China sinuous peehees
Who have one wing and who fly in couples


AND:

Christ's spinning halo spins forever
Behold the red lily of worship
Behold the red torch inextinguishable
Behold the pale son and scarlet of the dolorous Mother
Behold the tree forever tufted with prayer
Behold the double gallows of honor and eternity
Behold the six pointed star
Behold the God who dies on Friday and rises on Sunday
Behold the Christ who flies higher than aviators
He holds the world record for altitude

Oh, okay, one more:

The moon is honey on the mouths of madmen
The orchards are the towns are gluttons
Honeybees allegorize the constellations
Every moonbeam is a honeybeam now
Falling slowly an ooze from heaven
Incandescent honey drenches the trellises
And I am hiding I am pregnant with intrigue
In terror of the stinger of the great North Star
Who poured deceitful lights into my hands
Who stole the nectar from the compass rose

Oh, I'm a sucker for animating the inanimate!

Unfortunately for Guillaume, he died from post World War One Spanish Flu, which was probably very cliched for its time. 

Le Monde 100: The Gulag Archipelago

I am convinced that the Soviet Union suffered from a national case of dermatillomania.

Dermatillomania is a mental disorder that causes the sufferer to continually pick at their skin. He or she will obsess over their skin and tear, rip, peel, and scratch at themselves to the point of causing harm all over their body. The root of the problem is impulse control brought on by anxiety.

In reading The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, one can see the same symptoms of dermatillomania. Observe, if you will, the body of the dermatillomaniac, riddled with scabs and scratches, peppered with a constellation of his shame and paranoia:

Now, observe another picture of the Soviet Union:

The dots you see on the map are labor camps, which are the scabs of the Soviet shame and paranoia.
The Soviet system was responsible for more than double the deaths of the Nazi Holocaust. But, the worst thing about the Gulag and the compulsive imprisonment of the Soviet citizens, was not it's nefarious plan to do away with it's citizens like Hitler did, but rather the spiraling of a bureaucracy into a machine gone wrong. In reading Solzhenitsyn's account of the government's relationship with its people, I am struck by the notion that if a government is like a computer program, acting out the policies and laws that form it, then the Soviet Union behaved like it had a virus.

For example, to speak against the Soviet system would earn you a label under Article 58 of the Soviet law. Being rewarded for turning in those who spoke against the government and punished for sedition caused the public to look askew at everyone of their fellow men.  Once, at a public conference, everyone in attendance was called to to applause in tribute to Comrade Stalin. Solzhenitsyn writes:

"For three minutes, four minutes, five minutes, the 'stormy applause' rising to an ovation,' continued. But, palms were getting sore and raised arms were already aching . . . It was becoming insufferably silly even to those who really loved Stalin. However, who would dare to be the first to stop? . . .The applause went on. Six minutes, seven minutes, eight minutes! They were done for! . . . Nine minutes! Ten! . . . After eleven minutes, the director of the paper factory assumed a businesslike expression and sat down in his seat. And, oh, a miracle took place. To a man, every else stopped dead and sat down.

"That same night the factory director was arrested. They easily pasted ten years on him on the pretext of something quite different. But after he had signed Form 206, the final document of interrogation, his interrogator reminded him.
         'Don't ever be the first to stop applauding!"

It seems like the entire Soviet Union applauded right down to the falling of the Berlin wall.
The failure of the Soviet Union was the ultimate failure to recognize the individual as a sovereign of his or her personhood in the context of the State. The Soviets hamhandedly esteemed the State over the individual. Thus, erasing humanity as a virtue in light of the machine of government.

Some scientists feel that dermatillomania comes from repressed rage at authoritarian parents and that overbearing parenting can cause this obsessive form of control over one's self. Was the Soviet Union working out its issues with coming from monarchy and Tsardom? Perhaps. But, like abusive parents, abused children can become abusive and pass down abusiveness to their children over and over until someone becomes self-aware and breaks the cycle. Is Russia aware now? One would have to assume with the wealth of information available to everyone. What about other dictatorships like North Korea? They seem to be in the same place as the Soviet Union once was as can be attested by the forced mourning at Kim Jong-Il's death. Whatever the case, the Gulag Archipelago is definitely a handbook for conscientious dictators.

Le Monde 100: Paroles

Jacques Prevert is a film maker and an important one at that. His film The Children of Paradise is considered one of the greatest films ever made by many critics.
I have never seen it.
However, I have just finished reading Paroles, a collection of poetry by Prevert that was written in after World War II. It is a translation from French to English, which many people find lacking as English is not one of the Romance languages. Here is an example of the difference of his poem "Alicante" for you to decide:

Une orange sur la table

Ta robe sur le tapis

Et toi dans mon lit

Doux present du present

Fraicheur de la nuit

Chaleur de ma vie.

An orange on the table

Your dress on the rug

And you in my bed

Sweet present of the present

Cool of night

Warmth of my life.

It's hard to tell if it's these particular words sound better or if it's just the fact that the French language roles off the tongue so much nicer.

A copy of Paroles was published by Lawrence Ferlinghetti at the City Lights bookstore. That makes sense because, even though Prevert didn't have the same stream-of consciousness approach to poetry like many of the Beats, he did pull his inspiration from the ramifications of being in a so-called "civilized" society in the light of incredible horrors inflicted by it. For the Beats, the evil of society seemed to be rampant industrialism, which was the breeding ground for the nuclear arms race. For Prevert, it seemed to be a more personal evil of patriotism, much like Louise-Ferdinand Celine. In my favorite poem of his, "The New Order," Prevert writes of the German soldier who has to deal with the dulling of the shine of the stars of the Great Hope they once had in Hitler. He has to live in a "New Order" that is very different than what he thought it would be and it is equal to returning home to live in a house that has fallen down.

Prevert has a way of creating a scene in the mind that is both visual and poignant and is probably why his screenwriting is so popular.  The opening lines in "The New Order" read like the setting passages of a play:

The sun lies on the soil

Litre of spilled wine

A house has collapsed

Like a drunk on the pavement

If someone has a copy of The Children of Paradise, can we please have a viewing party?