Wednesday Poem

“I think of mythology as the homeland of the muses, the inspirers of art,
the inspirers of poetry. To see life as a poem and yourself participating
in a poem is what myth does for you.” —Joseph Campbell

Without Images

The first and most essential service of a mythology is
this one, of opening the mind and heart to the
utter wonder of all being.

The second is cosmological: of representing the universe
and whole spectacle of nature, both as known to the mind
and as beheld by the eye, as an epiphany of such kind that
when lightning flashes, or a setting sun ignites the sky,
or a deer is seen standing alerted, the exclamation “Ah!”
may be uttered as a recognition of divinity…

For it is the artist who brings the images of a mythology
to manifestation, and without images (whether mental or visual)
there is no mythology.

by Joseph Cambell
from
Poetry Outlaws



The Resurrection Of The Bawdy

J. C. Scharl at Joie de Vivre:

To try to understand the whole of Rabelais or his writing is the work of a lifetime—I am not sure if Rabelais himself would think such a lifetime well spent—but even a passing acquaintance with this odd fellow is certainly worthwhile. There is a mystery here, of the finest vintage; every time I pick up the blue brick called Gargantua and Pantagruel, I find myself asking, in the midst of chuckles, how can something so stupid have turned literature upside down? Why does this book matter at all?

It really is stupid, too. It’s a thousand pages of poop jokes, fart jokes, drunk jokes, blood-and-bruises jokes, sex jokes, burp jokes, spliced together with politics-and-religion jokes and lots of Latin puns that seem erudite today but would have been more accessible to Rabelais’ 16th-century audience. I cannot think of a single sentence in it that could be read aloud at the dinner table. It’s difficult even to find a quotation because the sentences are so long and elaborate.

more here.

Resilience is invaluable in tough times. Here’s how to build it

Elise Craig in Vox:

When Luana Marques was growing up in Brazil, life was not easy. Her parents had her when they were very young, and they didn’t know how to take care of themselves, much less their children. Drugs and alcohol were also a problem. “Between the many instances of domestic violence, I often felt scared, wondering when something bad would happen next,” she says. She lived in poverty with a single mother and experienced a lot of trauma and adversity. Eventually, she moved in with her grandmother, who taught her how to approach her fears without avoiding them, and to tolerate discomfort. “My grandmother would call that being the water, not the rock,” she says. “When change happens, some of us become stuck, like the rock. The opposite is being the water. You flow around the change.”

Years later, when Marques, now an associate professor of psychology at Harvard Medical School, was studying cognitive behavioral therapy, she realized that her grandmother had been giving her lessons in resilience. The American Psychological Association defines resilience as “successfully adapting to difficult or challenging life experiences, especially through mental, emotional, and behavioral flexibility,” but Marques puts it more simply: “The way I think about it is the ability to build mental strength in such a way that your brain has what’s known as ‘cognitive flexibility,’” she says. “It means that when life throws you curveballs or adversity, you are able to make decisions that are aligned with your values.”

More here.

2023 Breakthrough of the year: Obesity meets its match

Jennifer Couzin-Frankel in Science:

Obesity plays out as a private struggle and a public health crisis. In the United States, about 70% of adults are affected by excess weight, and in Europe that number is more than half. The stigma against fat can be crushing; its risks, life-threatening. Defined as a body mass index of at least 30, obesity is thought to power type 2 diabetes, heart disease, arthritis, fatty liver disease, and certain cancers. Yet drug treatments for obesity have a sorry past, one often intertwined with social pressure to lose weight and the widespread belief that excess weight reflects weak willpower. From “rainbow diet pills” packed with amphetamines and diuretics that were marketed to women beginning in the 1940s, to the 1990s rise and fall of fen-phen, which triggered catastrophic heart and lung conditions, history is beset by failures to find safe, successful weight loss drugs.

But now, a new class of therapies is breaking the mold, and there’s a groundswell of hope that they may dent rates of obesity and interlinked chronic diseases. The drugs mimic a gut hormone called glucagon-like peptide-1 (GLP-1), and they are reshaping medicine, popular culture, and even global stock markets in ways both electrifying and discomfiting. Originally developed for diabetes, these GLP-1 receptor agonists induce significant weight loss, with mostly manageable side effects. This year, clinical trials found that they also cut symptoms of heart failure and the risk of heart attacks and strokes, the most compelling evidence yet that the drugs have major benefits beyond weight loss itself. For these reasons, Science has named GLP-1 drugs the Breakthrough of the Year.

More here.

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

My Favorite Restaurant Served Gas

Kiese Laymon in The Bitter Southerner:

Grandmama didn’t wear her Sunday best, or even her Friday best, to Jr. Food Mart on date night with Ofa D. She’d drape herself in this baby blue velour jogging suit sent down from Mama Rose in Milwaukee. Grandmama was the best chef, cook, food conjurer, and gardener in Scott County. Hence, she hated on all food, and all food stories, that she did not make.

But Grandmama never, ever hated on the cuisine at Jr. Food Mart, our favorite restaurant that served gas.

I have no idea what I wore any of those Friday nights. I just knew that there was no more regal way to move through space in Forest, Mississippi, at 8 years old, no matter how you were dressed, than the back of a pickup truck near dusk.

More here.

Were Neanderthals soulful inventors or strange cannibals?

Rebecca Wragg Sykes in Nature:

Will we ever truly understand the Neanderthals? Archaeologist Ludovic Slimak paints a vivid picture in The Naked Neanderthal. Written like a philosophical travelogue, this intriguing book offers personal vignettes of archaeological excavations and provocative critiques of researchers’ tendencies to interpret Neanderthals (Homo neanderthalensis) as the intellectual and creative cousins of Homo sapiens. Instead, the author argues, they are stranger to us than people might admit, with a culture that is both sophisticated and alien.

Neanderthals emerged between 400,000 and 350,000 years ago and roamed western Eurasia, before disappearing around 40,000 years ago. Rather than concentrating on the ice-age periods that tend to get popular attention, Slimak draws readers’ eyes to the Eemian interglacial — a warm phase of more than 10,000 years that began around 123,000 years ago, when much of the Neanderthals’ Eurasian territory was richly forested.

More here.

Technoculture and the Plausibility of Unbelief

L.M. Sacasas in The Hedgehog Review:

We are living in an age of tech backlash. Especially given the perceived effects of social media on the outcome, the 2016 election undoubtedly catalyzed much of the critical sentiment about the role technology plays in our private lives and in society at large. This backlash can be attributed to a shift in thinking neatly expressed by the title of sociologist Zeynep Tufekci’s 2018 essay for MIT Technology Review, “How Social Media Took Us From Tahrir Square to Donald Trump.” The same technologies that, circa 2010, were expected to herald a golden age of democracy were, by 2018, more likely to be framed as authoritarian tools and threats to democracy. Around the same time, less rapt voices also gained traction in debates about the relative merits not only of social media but of smartphones, the Internet, algorithmic governance, automation, self-driving cars, and, most recently, artificial intelligence. While it is not obvious to me that this critical sentiment has amounted to a reconfiguration of how our society relates to technology, it nevertheless seems clear that our collective technoenthusiasm has been dialed down a few notches.

More here.

The Shoegaze Revival Hit Its Stride in 2023

Philip Sherburne at Pitchfork:

A monkey in the zoo, defiantly staring down passersby. A woman trembling as she reveals her injuries from a horrific car accident. A lovelorn soul eating ice cream and crying. A masked and helmeted man smashing bottles in a rage room. What these otherwise unrelated moments share: They are all TikToks soundtracked by the forlorn guitars and funereal drums of Duster’s 1997 song “Stars Will Fall.” And they’re just a fraction of the hundreds of thousands of TikToks to which Duster’s patient, ruminative music adds a sprinkle of the sublime. Clips tagged as #dusterband have garnered nearly 18 million views on the app, a level of visibility that has helped the onetime cult act rack up nearly four and a half million monthly listeners on Spotify—more, notes The Guardian, than Sonic Youth and Pavement combined. Not bad for a lo-fi band that broke up in 2001 without ever cracking the charts.

Duster’s newfound popularity is just one example of how—thanks in large part to social media and streaming—once-marginal ’90s subgenres have found a new generation of fans by swirling together into a vibes-first incarnation of indie rock. It’s all come together underneath the banner of shoegaze, a sound once synonymous with squalling guitars and blissed-out vocals that today has become a vehicle for young people to express uncontainable feelings.

more here.

On Czesław Miłosz: Visions from the Other Europe

Rowan Williams at Literary Review:

In a late poem about a friend’s death, Czesław Miłosz writes of the long passage between youth and age as one of learning ‘how to bear what is borne by others’. It could be a summary of his own poetic witness. Eva Hoffman’s moving and eloquent essay traces the ways in which that simultaneously guilty, compassionate and fastidious response characterises Miłosz’s work from its earliest days. Bearing what is borne by others is, for Miłosz, close to the heart of the poetic task, but it is also fraught with risk. Hoffman pinpoints how Miłosz’s hypersensitivity to the risks of sentimentality and grandstanding led to what many readers saw as an evasion of necessary commitment. He stood aside during the Warsaw Rising of 1944, wary of the overheated and unrealistic rhetoric surrounding it; he saw his first duty as being to the integrity of his poetry, not to the mythology of a sacrificially heroic Poland. Yet, as Hoffman stresses, the poetry itself reveals his full awareness of ambivalent motives and the dangers of willed detachment. Was he nervous of ‘being overwhelmed by emotions from which no detachment was possible’? The lines (from 1945), ‘You swore never to touch/The deep wounds of your nation’ – indeed, the whole poem in which they occur – reveal both a concern not to cheapen such wounds by sacralising the agonies of others and a recognition of the unbearable character of the pain involved: ‘My pen is lighter/Than a hummingbird’s feather. This burden/Is too much for it to bear.’

more here.

Tuesday Poem

Humans

To think we gathered here, however briefly,
on a strip of sand soon swallowed by the future,

to eat and drink and laugh, as if it mattered,
then turn, refreshed, toward ordinary ends—

by whose authority took we that pleasure
in the herons and the foxes and the whales,

yellow butter, orange lilies, cottontails
bouncing in the green of turnip beds—and then

by night, the wine and music in a glowing spiral,
spread above our lightened heads, the fragrant table

and the rest that emptied every hand of book or plough,
of weapon, needle, pen—and in whose mind

do we remember it, our loving, which is less than half the story
for we creatures rarely grateful, seldom sorry,

bent on shortening the temporary—who will stay?
Just this: by wondering, we learned to pray.

by Michael Quatrone
from
The Ecotheo Review

The Quest for Cather

Anne Matthews in The American Scholar:

Willa Cather loathed biographers, professors, and autograph fiends. After her war novel, One of Ours, won the Pulitzer in 1923, she decided to cull the herd. “This is not a case for the Federal Bureau of Investigation,” she told one researcher. Burn my letters and manuscripts, she begged her friends. Hollywood filmed a loose adaptation of A Lost Lady, starring Barbara Stanwyck, in 1934, and Cather soon forbade any further screen, radio, and television versions of her work. No direct quotations from surviving correspondence, she ordered libraries, and for decades a family trust enforced her commands.

Archival scholars managed to undermine what her major biographer James Woodress called “the traps, pitfalls and barricades she placed in the biographer’s path,” even as literary critics reveled in trench warfare over Cather’s sexuality. In 2018, her letters finally entered the public domain, allowing Benjamin Taylor to create the first post-ban life of Cather for general readers.

Chasing Bright Medusas is timed for the 150th anniversary of Cather’s birth in Virginia. The title alludes to her 1920 story collection on art’s perils, Youth and the Bright Medusa. (“It is strange to come at last to write with calm enjoyment,” she told a college friend. “But Lord—what a lot of life one uses up chasing ‘bright Medusas,’ doesn’t one?”) Soon she urged modern writers to toss the furniture of naturalism out the window, making room for atmosphere and emotion. What she wanted was the unfurnished novel, or “novel démeublé,” as she called it in a 1922 essay. Paraphrasing Dumas, she posited that “to make a drama, all you need is one passion, and four walls.”

More here.

Chimps Can Still Remember Faces After a Quarter Century

Carl Zimmer in The New York Times:

In 2015, while working as an undergraduate researcher at the North Carolina Zoo, Laura Lewis became friends with a male chimpanzee named Kendall. Whenever she visited the chimps, Kendall would gently take her hands and inspect her fingernails.

Then she disappeared for the summer to study baboons in Africa. When she returned to North Carolina, she wondered if Kendall would still remember her face. Sure enough, as soon as she stepped into his enclosure, Kendall raced up and gestured to look at her hands. “The feeling I got was that he clearly remembered me after four months away,” said Dr. Lewis, now a comparative psychologist at the University of California, Berkeley. “But I didn’t have the data to prove it.” Now she believes that she does. In a study published on Monday, Dr. Lewis and her colleagues have demonstrated that chimpanzees and bonobos can recall faces of other apes that they have not seen for years. One bonobo recognized a face after 26 years — a record for facial memory beyond our species.

More here.

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Why Novelists Should Embrace Artificial Intelligence

Debbie Urbanski at Literary Hub:

Let’s imagine, for the purpose of this essay, that the following statement is true: An AI writes a novel.

Actually, forget about the imagining. This is already happening. Today’s AIs—large language models (LLMs) specifically, like GPT-4—can write. If you’ve glanced at the headlines this year, you probably know this. They can write papers for high school students, they can write bad poetry, they can write sentences, they can write paragraphs, and they can write novels.

The problem is, for now, the creative writing that LLMs produce isn’t that great.

To demonstrate this point, I recently gave GPT-4 a few lines from my novel that describe a post-human world. Then I asked it to complete the paragraph.

More here.

How Road Ecology Is Shaping The Future Of Our Planet

Leon Vlieger in The Inquisitive Biologist:

The road to hell might be paved with good intentions, but the roads to pretty much everywhere else are paved with the corpses of animals. In Crossings, environmental journalist Ben Goldfarb explores the outsized yet underappreciated impacts of the, by one estimate, 65 million kilometres of roads that hold the planet in a paved stranglehold. These extend beyond roadkill to numerous other insidious biological effects. The relatively young discipline of road ecology tries to gauge and mitigate them and sees biologists join forces with engineers and roadbuilders. This is a wide-ranging and eye-opening survey of the situation in the USA and various other countries.

More here.

Review of “The Annual Banquet of the Gravediggers’ Guild” by Mathias Énard

Ruth Scurr in The Guardian:

French author Mathias Énard, winner of the Prix Goncourt and nominated for the International Booker prize, begins his new novel by quoting the Buddha: “In our former lives, we have all been earth, stone, dew, wind, fire, moss, tree, insect, fish, turtle, bird and mammal.” The central conceit of The Annual Banquet of the Gravediggers’ Guild is the great “wheel of suffering” through which the souls of all living things are reincarnated in a new form immediately after death. Murderers, for example, come back as red worms slithering “cheek by jowl” under a dank shower tray in a rundown rural annexe rented by an anthropologist who is writing a thesis on “what it means to live in the country nowadays”.

The novel is also a long love letter to the Deux-Sèvres, where Énard spent his childhood: a predominantly rural area, situated east of the Vendée and 100km inland from the Atlantic seaport La Rochelle.

More here.

The best science images of 2023

This shot of melt water pouring through the Austfonna ice cap on the Arctic island of Nordaustlandet, Norway, won the Nature category in the 2023 Drone Photo Awards. “I have visited this place several times before, but last year it was disheartening to witness the sea ice melting as early as June,” said photographer Thomas Vijayan.

More images here in Nature.

Everyone, Just Shut Up Already

Stanley Fish in The Chronicle of Higher Education:

University administrators faced with the challenge of responding to the various (and opposed) constituencies invested in the Hamas-Israel war have come up with a number of strategies.

    • Condemn one side and express sympathy with the other, a sure loser.
    • Condemn both sides, an even surer loser; all parties will feel aggrieved.
    • Support the legitimate aspirations of both sides and reject violence; you will be faulted for occupying a perch so lofty that the pressing issues of the day disappear.
    • Issue a general statement in support of peace and diplomatic negotiation; you will be accused of trafficking in pious platitudes that provide no firm guidance.
    • Stay silent, say nothing.

Staying silent and saying nothing is the right thing to do, but it has been criticized by leaders like Patricia McGuire, president of Trinity Washington University, who declared that “neutrality is a cop-out.” But staying silent, properly understood, is not neutrality. Neutrality is a position you take after considering the alternatives and affirmatively deciding not to come down in either direction. It is in the fray, even if it pretends to be above the fray. Staying silent, as I urge it, means refusing to have a position.

More here. (Note: Thanks to dear friend Sharon Cameron)

Hofmann Wobble: Wikipedia and the problem of historical memory

Ben Lerner in Harper’s Magazine:

At twenty-six, in 2006, the year before the iPhone launched, I found myself driving a red Subaru Outback—the color was technically “claret metallic,” the friend who’d lent me the car had told me, in case I ever wanted to touch up the paint—on Highway 12 in Utah. I was heading to the East Bay after a painful breakup in New York. I remember, wrongly, that I was listening to a book on tape, a work by a prominent linguist, as I moved through the alien landscape, jagged formations of red rock towering against a cloudless sky.

Consider the metaphorical association of argument and war, the linguist says in my memory, the way we speak of “attacking” or “defending” our “position.” If we frame an argument metaphorically as armed conflict then we will think of our interlocutor as an enemy. But what would happen, the voice asked me as I gripped the wheel with both hands, tense from fifteen hours of continuous driving, having pulled over only for gas and Red Bull and granola bars and Camels since departing Omaha, where I’d napped and showered at the childhood home of a college friend—what would happen if we shifted the metaphorical frame and thought of argument as a kind of dance, as a series of steps undertaken with the goal of mutual expression, satisfaction, even pleasure?

More here.