Sunday, December 5, 2010

How Alphabetical Is It?

Answer: Very

Walter Abish, author of the critically acclaimed novel How German Is It, had a challenging idea once: to compose an experimental work of fiction that plays with the English alphabet in a constrained manner. And in 1974, he published Alphabetical Africa, a novella that stood as a monument to his idea, built to completion.

It's a one-off work of literature, bold in its ambition, that has never been attempted by anyone else and probably will never be attempted by anyone again. The book consists of 51 chapters of varying lengths. The first chapter is composed entirely and only of words starting with the letter 'a', the second chapter with letters 'a' and 'b', and with each subsequent chapter he adds a letter from the alphabetical series up until, with the 26th, he composes a chapter made of words starting with the entire English alphabet of 26 letters. In the 27th chapter, he subtracts 'z' from the composition and hence it consists of the first 25 letters, and with each subsequent chapter thereafter, one letter is subtracted from the alphabetical series backwards until, at the 51st chapter, he completes the circle and is back to using only 'a'-lettered words.

That idea might intrigue you or it might perhaps even repel you, as some readers distance themselves from disorientating or alienating works of art. But if you belong to the former, rest assured, this is about the most fun literary treats can get. Again, rest assured, all the sentences and sentence structures used in the book conform to the standard English grammar, though they may not as easily be understood as the normal sentences we find in ordinary usage, especially the chapters made of one or a few letters. But that's where the fun lies. An excerpt from first chapter thus goes...

Ages ago, an archeologist, Albert, alias Arthur, ably attended an archaic African armchair affair at Antibes, attracting attention as an archeologist and an atheist. Ahhh, atheism... Anyhow, Albert advocated assisting African ants. Ants? All are astounded. Ants? Absurd.


...and one from the second chapter goes...

Alex and Allen are both bribing a building attendant after building another apartment backstairs, but both also brood after burying a body, brood about Bantu's better beaches and accommodating Alva.


Sentences vary in length, from short and average ones like these to really long ones, and some are quite hard to understand (I've quoted the easy ones above). It's far from being an easy catch in book stores, but thanks to Flipkart, an imported edition is available there for a slightly higher price (considering it is imported and the fact that it is a novella), but then, when the treat is so great, shedding a few extra bucks wouldn't hurt your wallet. A limited sample can be previewed on Google Books if you are curious.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Who we are

"The surest way to work up a crusade in favor of some good cause is to promise people they will have a chance of maltreating someone. To be able to destroy with good conscience, to be able to behave badly and call your bad behavior 'righteous indignation' – this is the height of psychological luxury, the most delicious of moral treats." – Aldous Huxley

Revenge is sweet. There are several evolutionary advantages that come from this sweet experience of ‘an eye for an eye’ that served our primate and human ancestors well in the ancient world and indeed to an extent today as well: a supposed ‘enemy' or rival is less likely to attack or mess with you knowing that you will seek vengeance in the aftermath of the attack and pursue an equal or worse counterattack. That pre-attack knowledge is a warning in itself that never needs to be uttered. And when an emotion is favorable to a species’ or an individual's existence, evolution makes it feel good, or sweet. The downside of this sweet emotion, however, is that it can dehumanize us to the point of becoming incapable of any sympathy or objective evaluation and blinds us from seeing not only the enemy's condition but also our own.

Because of its feel-good characteristics, revenge is a widely and long used tool in filmmaking. There is at least some element of revenge in almost every Hollywood film released – we not only love the good guys but also love hating the bad guys and wish them dead or worse (and even like to see the reaction on their faces when, to quote Samuel Jackson, they are “struck down upon with great vengeance and furious anger” :) ) Sometimes, gifted directors like Tarantino (who wrote that Jackson dialogue) just push it too far, or too low, and take it down to sly levels of wishful vengeance just to give the audience a treat of maltreating someone (killing, actually) and calling it ‘righteous indignation.’ That is sure to attract more viewers and rake in a lot of bucks and shower more praise on him. No, I’m not talking about Kill Bill, but about Inglourious Basterds, a purported historical fiction.

The world today, and since 1945, hates Nazis. While we all show immense gratitude towards the heroism of the Allies for defeating the Axis powes, especially Nazis, and saving the human civilization from tyranny, we still cannot get ourselves used to the fact that the Nazis did not get what they deserved. They committed the single largest calculated mass murder of an innocent population in human history and conducted unspeakable experiments on them, and all they get for it is a jail term and a fair trial for war crimes? No, that’s not enough. We need more, or wish that they had gotten more. We want revenge. Avenge us, someone!

At least, that’s how the world majority feels today. And feeding on such a strong inner craving, sly and shameless filmmakers like Tarantino create their own personal favorite versions of history and lead events into how they wished it had ended – with Hitler dying of 10,000 rounds of bullets in a movie theater at the hands of our anti-Nazi Jewish hero and him killing the rest of the Nazi leaders in the same enclosure with a machine gun. Never happened, but still. As long as that’s what the audience want to see, who cares what a demoralized filth of a story it is. To make matters worse, our beloved Oscars promoted such irresponsible garbage by nominating it for Best Screenplay, Best Director, AND Best Film categories. To make matters still worse, and as expected, the film was a blockbuster and took home unprecedented accolades.

Historical fiction has been a well-received genre in storytelling for ages; it takes facts that did happen and peppers it with fiction to make a point, to prove a moral, to say something about those events or about the people involved in those events. But Inglourious Basterds, if it does say anything at all, says that we are all brutal savages who seek, as Huxley has rightly put in the quote above, the psychological luxury of destroying and killing with a good conscience. This is evidenced by the undeniable fact that what people loved the most about the film was, despite knowing with absolute certainty that it’s fictional, the merciless killing of the Nazis and their demigod leader, Hitler. They enjoyed it like it was a live News broadcast. A couple of old Jewish women were overheard in a theatre by someone I know saying during the climax, overjoyed as they were, “If only it were true.” The film was even publicized with the tag, “You haven’t seen war until you’ve seen it through the eyes of Tarantino.” Yeah, sure!

Spielberg made a few mistakes like this early on his career with Indiana Jones. He tried to approach the Nazi concept with a certain dose of hatred towards them, him being a Jew and all. But, him being also an intelligent filmmaker, quickly corrected himself and made the gem of modern classics, Schindler’s List, avoiding any and all pitfalls of inducing anti-Nazi hate messages in the minds of the audience and showed with unhindered honesty the presence of compassion amid the cold cruelty of the Third Reich. The moral dimensions of this film are so great that Kubrick, a director who is worshiped by Spielberg himself, abandoned a Nazi Germany film project he was working on at the time because, as his wife later recalled, he felt he couldn’t top Schindler’s List. Spielberg preached humanity with that film, that there is no form of revenge so complete as forgiveness. I just hope Tarantino too wakes up the horror of his own morals before he decides to breed another set of Basterds.

A fairly recent Dutch film called ‘Zwartboek’ (‘Black Book’; director: Paul Verhoeven) deals with the same theme, albeit with a twist. This film, too, has certain elements of revenge in it, but unlike Basterds, it shows us, indeed makes us feel how depraved and base we become while seeking revenge, and also, unlike Basterds, it’s based on real events. A Jewish Resistance girl infiltrates Nazi senior officials’ office disguised as a Nazi supporter and a seductress to help the Resistance fighters with valuable inside information, thus enabling them to launch surprise attacks on the officers. But once the war is over, she is mistaken for a Nazi and imprisoned with the rest of the arrested Nazis in a prison that’s in a condition as deplorable as concentration camps. Now, since it is impossible for any of us to sympathize with a Nazi, and since we know that the innocent girl is a Jew mistaken for a Nazi and is being treated like one with contempt, which in turn earns her our sympathy, it becomes easy for us to see the dissoluteness of our merciless conduct in the name of revenge and how we become what we despise in the process. But Basterds, on the other hand, feeds on such dissoluteness and glorifies it.

No other film, not even the horrendous Indian films (all encompassing: Bollywood, Tollywood, Kollywood, Sandalwood, Wood, etc.), has made me lose faith in humanity so much as Basterds. We may have come a long way since the War, and our morals may have advanced tremendously with acts such as ridding ourselves of capital punishment in a great many nations, but inside, our true primate self still remains the same bloodthirsty animal that were the Nazis. We are all really no different from the Nazis, no matter how much we deny and like to believe otherwise.

As a closing comment, I’ll quote one of my favorite quotations from Stanley Kubrick:

“Man isn't a noble savage, he's an ignoble savage. He is irrational, brutal, weak, silly, unable to be objective about anything where his own interests are involved—that about sums it up.”

Yes, that about sums it up.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Recently verbified words

A while ago I was wondering what the verb form of nostalgia was, and not unexpectedly thought it to be 'nostalgize'. But I decided to google it anyway and stumbled upon this interesting list of newly verbified words. Has some nice additions to the language:

http://www.ar.cc.mn.us/raygor/rdrverbs.htm

Some words that stand out:

Sunset - To lapse or expire at a preset time. "Don't forget that this commission sunsets at the end of the fiscal year."

Theatricalize
- To make more theatrical or flamboyant. On National Public Radio, Susan Stamberg said of Noel Coward that he had "theatricalized himself."

Yes - To agree to. From the St. Paul Pioneer Press: "Jennifer Aniston, one of TV's 'Friends,' has yessed a marriage proposal by Tate Donovan, late of TB's 'Partners,' according to the Star."

...and many more.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Veblen goods and the psychotic drive for exclusivity

Most things we use – pens, cell phones, cars, bikes, house, and a quadrillion other items that make up our “stuff” (oh, and speaking of stuff, this immortal George Carlin video shouldn’t be ignored, by anyone), follow that seemingly unquestionable law of supply and demand and the price based on it. It’s simple: Supply is high and demand is low, price shoots up; supply is low and demand is high, price crashes down. It’s all high school economics, and if you haven’t been to high school, commonsense would be a good alternative to have thought about it with. A cell phone costs Rs. 10,000 and sells 10,000 pieces a day, and going by the law of supply and demand (LSD – a perfect acronym, hah!), if you cut down the price by Rs. 1000, the sales increase to 11000 pieces a day (only an example, dude). There is sufficient evidence taken directly from the market over the last century and a half in support of LSD to make it a law as commonplace and to-be-taken-on-face-value as the law of gravity in physics or the law of Brownian motion in chemistry. And if something is so consistently evidenced by reality and over such a long time, no one could or should be bold enough to question the law, right?

Wrong. Thorstein Veblen was. An economist – a true economist, i.e., not a wannabe economist like Steven Levitt, author of Freak-on-comics, whose goal is not to explore reality but to overturn conventional wisdom, even if it works – and a sociologist, Veblen was a dispassionate observer of societies and the behavior of people under various economic conditions. Among is immense contributions to the field of economics is an observation that is as important to understanding market economics as the LSD, and, as I might have hinted till now, it runs counter to the LSD. Veblen proposed the idea that certain goods will disobey the LSD and yield ironic results if you do what is generally acceptable for goods that do obey the LSD: if you cut down the price, then contrary to the expectations of demand rising up and hence the product selling more, it starts to sell less and becomes less preferred in the market. The very reason they sell more is because of, not in spite of, their high price. Sounds weird? Even if it doesn’t sound weird, it is weird. Here’s how it works, sort of.

Humans have a very strong desire for exclusivity. We want to own things that few other people do, or better yet, only we do. We sometimes go to great lengths to possess it; the desire for the first place in a race, even if the race itself carries no meaning or purpose, the desire to own luxury cars, unmatched racer bikes, diamonds, designer edition clothes and shoes, watches made of 24 carat gold, spoons and forks made of gold… Owning any of these changes our image in the society or at least amongst acquaintances, and with the exclusivity their possession brings to us, we set ourselves, if only virtually, above all those who lack them. Despite the fact that there is nothing inherent to the quality of the product or the product itself that would justify its price, its very exclusivity sets a high price. In other words, the product becomes a status symbol. In some more words, the high price it is tagged is not for its quality but for its exclusivity.

Price drives exclusivity, and exclusivity drives (pseudo)status. Then status drives exclusivity back again, and it enters a self-feeding spiral.

Cutting down the price makes it more affordable to a section of the market that is larger than the pre-price-cut section. And with that, exclusivity of the product is also cut down to a certain degree. You might think how would making something more affordable to a larger group of people result in its selling less, but as pointed out, because of the drop in its exclusivity, there follows a drop in the market preference for the product, and since there is nothing inherent about the quality of the product that would justify the freakishly high price, the demand doesn’t go up to counterbalance the drop in preference that ensues the price cut. As a result, the demand curve has nowhere else to go but down.

Rolls Royce recently released its latest engineering marvel called Ghost. Its price was set at Rs. 2.3 crores. There were 25 bookings for the car in Delhi. Technically speaking, there is nothing about Ghost that is not already present in Mercedes Benz. They are both equally advanced, and advanced they both are enough to justify a price that is around what Benz has to offer. But Rolls Royce set its price more than five times what the same technology is on offer with Benz, making it a lot more expensive and hence much more exclusive than any Benz model to date. And the 25 status-conscious pricks needed just that!

Here are some more Veblen goods with which a high superficial social status is attached, mostly because of the high price and partly because of the good quality. All these products were featured in the Forbes annual special edition called “Luxury Must-Haves for Every CEO”. The title itself suggests an irrational desire to separate the CEO from the rest of the working class.

Vertu Signature. A cell phone. Cost: Rs. 6.46 lakh
Amosu Blackberry Curva. A cell phone. Cost: Rs. 95 lakh
Piaget Polo FortyFive. A watch. Cost: Rs. 9.0 lakh
Audemars Piguest Royal Oak Offshore Chronograph. A watch. Cost: 14 lakh
Panerai Radiomir Tourbilln. A watch. Cost: 61.87 lakh
Mont Blanc Mahatma Gandhi 241. A pen. Cost: Rs. 11.39 lakh
Luciano Barbera. Men’s suit. Cost: Starting at Rs. 2 lakh
Ermenegildo Zegna 14 Micron Couture Suit. Men’s suit. Cost: Rs. 2.48 lakh
Brioni MTM suits. Men’s suit. Starting at Rs. 3 lakh, up to Rs. 35 lakh

There are many more. Google them for pictures/info. There is a sentence in the description of Luciano Barbera, and I quote without paraphrasing: “This is as exclusive as it gets.”



Rolls Royce Ghost

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Four secrets of English writing


Usage affects the evolution of language. The way we are using English on the Internet will forever earn us the scorn of future generations of English speakers/writers, which is why it is imperative that someone makes clear these four most basic rules of sentence construction, since, apparently, most of us either never learnt it or haven't paid enough attention to it to. There are, of course, many more rules pertaining to sentence construction and punctuation, but following the following four would make reading a great pleasure for the readers. So, here goes:

1. Every sentence begins with a capital letter. Always.
2. Choose only one of the following to terminate a sentence: . ! ? Do not use an exclamation mark and a question mark in combination to express/ask a surprised question.
3. After you've made your choice in Rule 2, use it ONLY ONCE. Using 27 exclamation marks at the end of a sentence doesn't mean you have a point. If you really do have a point, just one exclamation mark, if deemed necessary and appropriate, would suffice. And by extension of Rule 1, every sentence is terminated by only one period (or full stop). Always. Furthermore, it's easier to use one than seven or eight.
4. There exists a space after a period (or full stop) and a comma. Be wise in using or not using commas. "Let's eat, grandma" is not the same as "let's eat grandma."

While occasional typos and punctuation or capitalization errors can be forgiven, celebrating our ignorance of it cannot be. It's not enough to get the point across. That's like saying as long as there is a ground to sleep on and a roof to protect us from the sun and rain, it's enough. No, its not.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Bertrand Russell: Three


An autobiographical piece of Bertrand Russell I find interesting. The third one is spot-on.

Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a deep ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair.

I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy—ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness—that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it, finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what—at last—I have found.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved.

Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a hated burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer.

This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

When Clevinger became their scapegoat


Catch-22 is perhaps one of the most original novels of the 20th century, that, while being outrageously hilarious, mirrors human nature with a kind of accuracy not often seen in fictional novels. It mocks and satirizes the evil in people, especially when they are subject to conditions where their raw nature can come out unhindered, not bounded by any limitations. Such as in World War II, the background of this story.

The entire novel is as funny as funny can get, but towards the end of the eighth chapter it takes a serious tone for the first time. And the seriousness of it is so powerfully presented, it gave me an episode of depression after reading it. Depression not just regarding the character in action, but over the harsh truth about humans that is so starkly depicted in those few words. I'll quote them for you.

But before I do that, here's a brief summary of the scene that's happened till the quote: Clevinger, a cadet for the US Army, is brought on trial in front of the US military Action Board in his camp - consisting of three men: "a bloated colonel with big fat mustache", Major Metcalf, and Lieutenant Scheisskopf - for conspiring to overthrow the cadet officers appointed by a paranoid Lieutenant Scheisskopf, who is frantic that if nothing is done about it, Clevinger will one day overthrow the world. After a long and very hilarious trial, Clevinger is found guilty, without any evidence or relevant claims, and is sentenced to walk fifty-seven punishment tours. A punishment tour for Clevinger was fifty minutes of a weekend hour spent pacing back and forth before the provost marshal's building with a ton of an unloaded rifle on his shoulder. (And just for reference, Yossarian, whose name is mentioned below, is the unbelievably stupid and funny protagonist of the novel.)

These two paragraphs follow and conclude the chapter:

It was all very confusing to Clevinger. There were many strange things taking place, but the strangest of all, to Clevinger, was the hatred, the brutal, uncloaked, inexorable hatred of the members of the Action Board, glazing their unforgiving expressions with a hard, vindictive surface, glowing in their narrowed eyes malignantly like inextinguishable coals. Clevinger was stunned to discover it. They would have lynched him if they could. They were three grown men and he was a boy, and they hated him and wished him dead. They had hated him before he came, hated him while he was there, hated him after he left, carried their hatred for him away malignantly like some pampered treasure after they separated from each other and went to their solitude.

Yossarian had done his best to warn him the night before.

"You haven't got a chance, kid," he told him glumly. "They hate Jews."
"But I'm not Jewish," answered Clevinger.
"It will make no difference," Yossarian promised, and Yossarian was right. "They're after everybody."

Clevinger recoiled from their hatred as though from a blinding light. These three men who hated him spoke his language and wore his uniform, but he saw their loveless faces set immutably into cramped, mean lines of hostility and understood instantly that nowhere in the world, not in all the fascist tanks or planes or submarines, not in the bunkers behind the machine guns or mortars or behind the blowing flame throwers, not even among all the expert gunners of the crack Hermann Goering Antiaircraft Division or among the grisly connivers in all the beer halls in Munich and everywhere else, were there men who hated him more.


That quote, right there, SPEAKS to me!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Roots of inequality? Maybe


I might be a little late to this, but I couldn't let it be just a passing thought. Being exposed to Jared Diamond's work lately, I had the luck of acquiring a copy of his 1987 five-page essay titled The Worst Mistake In The History Of The Human Race (pdf accessible here). This was published almost a decade prior to his much-acclaimed, Pulitzer-winning non-fiction book Guns, Germs, and Steel (here onwards referred to as GGS), and was written during the course of his 30-year research into the question that both the book and this essay deal with - namely, the influence of weapons, environment, diseases, geographical luck, and most importantly, agriculture & domestication on the development of human race and evolution of world civilizations and societies (the question being: "Why are some parts of the world, and the people living in them, more advanced than others?"). But before I proceed with my criticism and comments, I need to state clearly that Jared's approach to explaining the development of human societies across the globe is strictly and firmly non-racial; he downright discards all notions that genetic factors, notwithstanding rare and minor implications, were in any way responsible for the advancement of some civilizations and the stagnation of others. This view is shared by modern science as well, with the 2000 Human Genome Project discovering that 99.98% of all human genes of all races are identical.

Judging by such a bold title, I was initially skeptical of what he had to say, but as I went through the essay page by page, I was to some extent convinced by the argument, but (but again!) soon, much to my disappointment, I uncovered certain holes or "skipping" of logical next-steps in a couple of places. Over the evening I was preoccupied with the argument in an attempt to find more holes and thus feel proud of my critical reasoning skills, but to the contrary, I could fill in the already-found holes by myself and felt the argument to be at least partly convincing once again. (I was like, "Well yeah, it is plausible.") I'll address them in a while.

Jared's theory in this essay is focused mainly on the changes taking place in any one arbitrary hunter-gatherer society with the advent of agriculture, as opposed to his theory in GGS which focuses on the changes taking place in the human race as a whole with the advent of various factors. In a nutshell, he submits that agriculture, with all its advantages and benefits, brought upon us an unanticipated evil so great that it plagues the world to this day and has had dire consequences on civilizations throughout human history. And that evil is inequality - inequality in all its forms, ranging from class to gender to skin tone to you name it! It was only after we invented agriculture, says Jared, that the first signs of inequality began to show up. Hunter-gatherer societies, that is the pre-agriculture groups, had little to no reason to divide themselves into classes; everyone had such a crucial role to play in the food accumulation process alone that any division of a society on any basis would only threaten the very survival of the entire group. But with agriculture, all that changed.

The emergence of agriculture was a turning point in history, as the cliché goes. It provided, in relatively abundant quantities, the one indispensable source of survival: food. Farming cut down the time and labor expense needed to find scant and scattered sources of food in the forests through hunting by many fold, effectively reducing the burden on much of the population and hence freeing them of, or at least stripping some of the work load previously borne by them in hunting and gathering. This is a well-established fact in archeology, one that is supported by evidence. As the burden came down, they were able to devote time to other activities (not necessarily leisure), and women, especially, were able to either better care for their children or, because of the dwelling at one place - a new lifestyle - brought about by agriculture, were able to carry more children and hence grow their population faster and provide sufficient food for the extra population through the harvests. (Read the essay for a more in-depth explanation of this section).

Agriculture almost seemed at the time to be a godsend, all-encompassing boon, giving them not only a year-round supply/storage of food they used to so desperately search for but also ample time to expend on developing other survival skills. But amid all this progress and without their knowledge was also taking birth the seeds of inequality which would later determine who amongst them gets to eat, who doesn't, and who does how much. This is where I tumbled upon a missing logical next-step in Jared's argument.

To quote from the essay: "Hunter-gatherers have little or no stored food, and no concentrated food sources, like an orchard or a herd of cows: they live off the wild plants and animals they obtain each day. Therefore, there can be no kings, no class of social parasites who grow fat on food seized from others. Only in a farming population could a healthy, nonproducing elite set itself above the disease-ridden masses."

The part about hunter-gatherers not having classes is obvious; as I mentioned earlier, everyone played an equally important role in food production process that division would preclude survival. But the last sentence in that quote - about a healthy, nonproducing elite setting itself above the disease-ridden masses - is the part that is elusive, as Jared fails to explain exactly how that is possible. Why, you might ask, would a producing "lower" class feed a nonproducing "higher" class and let them live healthily at the expense of their own health. If you were a farmer when farming was invented, would you grow crops and domesticate animals only to feed an elite class that doesn't? You might as well ask them to sod off and eat all your crops yourself rather than just giving it away to some other higher class that neither produces nor shares your ill-health. And even if you are crazy enough to do that, why on earth would you be tagged "lower class" while those who don't produce and feed on your food be tagged "higher class"? Why can't it be the other way round? For, you are the power house of the community, and if anything, it is you who should be placed and revered above everyone else in the community because it you who has saved them all the labor of hunting and provided them with the time to fuck about. Why, then?

Jared conveniently skips answering all those questions and hops from "man invented agriculture" to "man succumbed to deep-class division". He partly draws his conclusion from the way it is today: look at the state of farmers, regardless of the country, and compare them with the nonproducing class of the same country that depends on the farmer for food demands. Or, on a larger scale, an example which Jared himself cites, look at America depending for oil on oil-producing nations of the Middle East and still being better off economically and socially than those nations. The conclusion is clear: producing class is often given a lower social status than non-producing class. But how and why did it happen are the questions that have been denied an answer here. (Additionally, while comparing the farmers of today with the farmers of those day, one needs resist the temptation to ignore the pivotal role money plays. Farmers today produce for money, and farmers of those days had no concept of money.)

The answer lies partly in human nature and partly in the characteristic of agriculture. As noted, farming is an immobile form of food production. Populations harvesting a crop need to dwell at a single place - close to or next to a farm, for example - over long periods of time. In the fullness of time, the population grows, communities become villages, villages grow in size. While this dwelling does provide several advantages over hunting, it also poses a serious threat: the threat of invasion by a foreign group. This behavior has been confirmed by evolutionary biologists for apes, and anthropologists, historians and evolutionary biologists for human beings as well. When food sources run low (either because of the food reserves running out or because of the population exceeding the sustainability of those reserves), we, the modern apes, go in search of other sources elsewhere. During the search, if encountered by other groups (which are by now rivals) who have already taken control of the much-needed food, a conflict occurs and heads roll. The winner stands alone, the winner takes it all. All this is true even today, although with humans today greed plays a role as important as the survival instincts. But with the hunter-gatherer communities, this didn't pose a major problem because they were always on the move and never had the worry of an invader invading 'their' land. They had no land of theirs. Even with them conflicts of this nature occurred, but they were insignificant enough to not make a difference to the social structure of their communities. Farming, however, needed protection from invaders, and that is where the security-providing soldiers enter into the equation.

An average American farmer today feeds the stomachs of 165 people worldwide, i.e., a producer-to-consumer ratio of 1:165. (I wish I had the numbers for Indian farmers). 40 years ago, that American farmer fed 28.5 stomachs (source). This drastic change can be attributed to the research and development in agricultural practices of yesteryears. So the farmers of nascent agricultural era can be expected to have produced a much lower yield for their crops, as their practices of farming were much more primitive and undeveloped than today's. Even if we assume a producer-to-consumer ratio of 1:1.25 for them (note that it has to be greater than 1:1, else it wouldn't have made much sense to migrate from hunting-gathering to farming), that is, one farmer feeding 1.25 stomachs, it would have still freed up about 12.5% of the population from the duties of food production. This 12.5%, being skilled as they were at hunting and handling weapons, could now put their skills to use in developing a defense system for the farming community. And the deal? Since money didn't exist, the farmers would pay them in the form of food in exchange for protection, as they are already producing an extra 12.5%. This has effectively formed the first societal division: the division between the farming class and the defense class. The defense class now needs to be organized, as an unorganized army is as easy to defeat as a community without an army. This therefore calls for leadership, resulting in the subdivision of army into various levels of hierarchy, at the top being the leader or commander-in-chief who has control of the army and over how the army advances and occupies surrounding land area for the needs of growing community size, thereby establishing himself as the King, the royal family, or the supreme owner of the land. He now begins to collect taxes in the form of food from farmers - not just for the land they are being allowed to farm in but also for the protection and other facilities such as road, housing et cetera he is providing them (not very different from the tax system we have today in our government, except that in our system much of the tax money comes back to the public in the form of services). Wealth (food) now begins to accumulate more than the needs of the royal family and at the expense of the needs of the producing class.

Despite being responsible for production, farmers would end up paying their share of food in the form of taxes to the royal family and through them a share of it to the army. Even if their production ratio continues at 1:1.25 or higher, because of the taxes and the growing army size, they might have to cut down their own share of the '1' and add it to the '1.25'. This apparently leads to poor nutrition and ill health of farmers and the good health of royals. Since protection is obviously more necessary and important than just good health, farmers are left with no choice but to yield to the demands of the King and his soldiers. The King being the commander and the farmer being the obeyer, and the King being 'richer' than the farmer, the former gets a "higher" social status while the latter gets a "lower". And with that, a new master-obeyer relationship was born.

Meanwhile, during the formation of this defense system, because of increased food production-to-consumption ratio over time, several sub-classes are formed which aren't directly part of the army but without which the army would be worthless. Blacksmiths, an example, are essential to armory (the fact that farming allows a part of the community to devote entirely to the development of arms cannot be ignored). Cooks, another example, are essential to providing cooked food to the soldiers and the King. And since these blacksmiths and cooks themselves need protection from foreign invasion, they are as obliged in their duty to the King and his men as the farmers, but are not farmers in themselves, leading to the inception of two more social classes. Likewise, many other classes could have formed feeding almost entirely on the food produced by the farmer and at the same time leading to a division of society into various classes of various ranks, the farmer being at the bottom of the pyramid.

A mere 1:1.25 producer-to-consumer ratio could produce that much inequality within a community, and with every incremental rise on the right hand side of the ratio, a higher percentage of the population was freed of its food-producing duties which could then be handed over to other self-preservation activities. In fact, it is very tempting to conclude that the more food a farmer produced (i.e., the higher the producer-to-consumer ratio), the more the social classes that took birth and the more the ensuing inequality that propagated in the community. Look at the modern world today. If you strike off the 1:165 producer-to-consumer ratio and if one individual was solely responsible for producing food for oneself, directly or indirectly (i.e., if the producer-to-consumer ratio came down to 1:1), then not only would the world population drop drastically, but almost all societal divisions would vanish altogether. Development, in all its form, would come to a grinding halt, since if every person is expected to produce and consume his/her own food, there wouldn’t be much time or energy left for any other activities that propel the modern world towards progress. The only activity then would be to grow/hunt food, cook, eat, and regurgitate. And perhaps some spare time for recreation.

That finally brings me to the end of this criticism, which oddly is almost as long as the essay itself. Jared asserts that the shift from hunting to agriculture was the biggest mistake in human history, that hunting, despite feeding very few stomachs and therefore limiting human reproduction, was better than farming in that it precluded inequality amongst the people who practiced it. I beg to differ. While it may be true (I said in the second paragraph that I'm only partially convinced by this theory, given that there isn't sufficient evidence to definitively and conclusively make any claims) that farming brought about certain additional inequalities in human society (keyword: additional; I'm not convinced that agriculture is the root of all inequalities, and certain inequalities such as gender and age and appearances could already have been present in hunter-gatherer societies), it also cleared the way for exponential human progress on unprecedented levels, the likes of which the human mind had never before imagined. Farming made the modern world possible, farming gave birth to innovation on mind-boggling scales, and, most importantly, farming provided the very sustenance for our species to survive on and grow. Farming, in other words, regardless of all the evil it imposed upon us, is the biggest best-thing to have happened to us in all human history. Every coin has two faces. Deal with it!

Footnotes:
1. Read the essay.
2. Watch a 3-hour PBS documentary based on Jared Diamond’s Pulitzer Prize-winning book, Guns, Germs, and Steel, which also deals with the same subject albeit with a different focus, here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgnmT-Y_rGQ. And if you are lucky enough to be in my small circle of friends*, ask me for the documentary and I’ll give you a copy myself.

*Just kidding

Thursday, February 25, 2010

The Road - A Novel by Cormac McCarthy: Review



Rating: 8/10

On reading the jacket blurb or synopses of the novel, one would get the impression that The Road is a sci-fi novel centered on the survival of a father and his son in a post-apocalyptic world, where everything is dead or dying save a few humans, some animals that were lucky enough to survive, and hardly anything in the plant world. At the outset of the novel and until a few pages into it, the reader feels this is what he is in for - a mere survival tale akin to the hundreds of others in the post-apocalyptic fiction genre. But very soon they realize it's not so much a story about the father-son survival as it is about the father-son relationship itself and the challenges of fatherhood and the sacrifices it demands.

Emotions run high and higher than tension in this Pulitzer Prize-winning novel set in the near future where an unknown catastrophe - either gradual or sudden, it's difficult to say - has destroyed and burned civilization as we know it and has plunged mankind and indeed life itself to the brink of extinction. Everything is grey and ashy, and hopes of returning the planet back to its pre-apocalyptic state are as bleak as the cold wind that freezes the ground at night. The sun is blocked with the dark ashes that fill the sky, and the brightest light of day makes for only the faintest of vision. There is nothing left to eat except the sparse leftover canned food of yesteryears. Dry, rotting corpses are scattered everywhere. Cannibalism is a commonplace amongst the survivors, and humans, now back to their savage state, have become more skilled at hunting other humans than at hunting animals. And amid all this hellish mess, a man struggles to keep his son alive without losing their humanity in a world he believes god has abandoned a long time ago.

The moral dimensions of the novel, as opposed to McCarthy’s previous works such as No Country for Old Men and Blood Meridian, are simple. Everyone is divided into “good guys” or “bad guys,” and actions too are either good or bad. Although some readers cribbed about this being an issue, to me it doesn’t contradict the motivations of characters as the world they are living now is more primitive than the early stone ages had witnessed, and morals in such a world are anything but complex. Throughout the bulk of the novel the author builds for his audience such a subtle and strong bond with the main characters that the readers don’t realize how much they have fallen in love with them till the very end. And let me be quick to admit, and I’m not alone in this, this is the first novel that evoked such an intense emotional response in me that my eyes literally misted up, if not wept, in the final few pages of the novel. The sparkle of love in the backdrop of this gloomy, unforgiving and dismal atmosphere glitters like the last piece of pearl in the abyss of a dead and long abandoned ocean – an ocean which plays a pivotal role in the story.

The road to the coast of the ocean is purported to be a metaphor by many readers – and it may well be if that is what the reader wishes to think of it – but McCarthy in a rare interview said the road is just a road for him, although he wouldn’t deny his readers the freedom of interpretation. His writing style often and intentionally violates many rules of English grammar, such as constructing only sentence fragments instead of complete sentences, omitting apostrophes at many places, avoiding quotation marks entirely, et cetera. But to balance the act, McCarthy is such a master at what he does that his writing gets borderline poetic even in prose (“Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.”) and expresses so many thoughts and emotions in so few a words (“I envy the dead; it’s over for them,”) that it’s easy to get lost in the images and the weight of meaning they bear, to the length that we forget it’s words we are looking at. There are a few horrifying scenes, certainly not for the squeamish to read, embedded in the story. Character development is at the core of his creative writing process, and plot too serves as a platform for pushing them to the boundaries of survival and sanity and testing their instincts, especially the man’s paternal instincts. Another oddly interesting thing I noticed was that while I’m a staunch atheist myself, I thoroughly embraced the metaphorical and elegiac use of the concept of “god.” And like in the author’s entire body of work, women play a small role even in this novel, with only two of them appearing and only for a few pages.

All things considered, The Road is a modern literary gem that is as haunting as it is beautiful, and, at 300-odd pages, is not as thick as it is rewarding. Cormac McCarthy has set a benchmark for future authors of this genre and the whole of fiction writing to use as a definitive guide of storytelling and created a world so engulfed in both affection and poignancy that it melts the hearts of even the coldest of readers. This is emotive art the likes of which literature hasn’t seen before, earning McCarthy, among other things, the honor of being one of the great American writers of our age.

Trivia: While I’ve come to dislike comparing books and films, which frankly is like comparing apples with oranges, the film adaptation was lacking one crucial element: the sense of time. The novel has it, and gives the feeling that the story is taking place over a long period of many years, which it is. But the film makes it seem like the story occurs over a two-day period, which is a shame because half the connection between the audience and characters is lost there, with the result being a woefully inept adaptation in terms of sentimentality. I won’t, however, take away from the director the stark imagery he has so skillfully crafted - an important aspect of creating the mood for the action to take place in.