For much of the first 2 chapters, Legutko makes observations that I mostly find validity in. Liberal democracy, much like Marxism, does have its utopian side, at least in current ideology. After the fall of the Soviety Union, some people did talk of an "End of History", i.e. a final stage of human political development. Some people do have utopian aspirations for it.
I also like his observation that Westerners are remarkably comfortable with the orthodoxy because we have no obviously official propaganda organs. We don't have kommissars firing people who refuse to recite the exact prescribed platitudes (for the most part). Our ideology is enforced in much more subtle ways. I've heard similar things from other people who grew up in Communist states of Eastern Europe, and not all of them are social conservatives like Legutko. So there is something going on here, something visible from more than one ideological angle.
And he does acknowledge the unquestionable success of liberal and democratic societies in enabling the prosperity of capitalism.
He also talks about the desire of technocrats to transform and improve societies, and not always in ways that the citizens desire. I have a certain amount of sympathy here. I've spent countless blog posts bemoaning the impossible social transformations that technocrats want higher education to deliver. I may not share all of Legutko's bones of contention with technocrats, but I get his point.
And I completely agree with his observation that democracy often values equality to the point of mediocrity, a stance sharply at odds with excellence. It praises the common and coarse over the high and refined. It's one of the tensions between a democratic society and educational achievement. While mass ignorance is hardly consistent with stable democracy, egalitarianism can weaken the best parts of a society.
Of course, he applies his critique at least as much to mass culture and norms of vulgar speech as to educational issues. And, again, I see his point. I don't fear pop culture as much as he does (I've noted before the commonalities between the Iliad and modern entertainment, and I think that soulful music celebrates emotion in ways that lift us up, not debase us), but I agree that there's no sharp line between such high popular art and vulgar popular art. (Indeed, vulgar and popular started as synonyms before acquiring different connotations.)
But his denunciation of the vulgar takes us to Trump, and we start to see his incoherence. The book was published in 2016, so it can't address Trump to any great extent, but Trump is unquestionably vulgar. A reality TV star of gaudy rather than refined tastes, he exemplifies the rich man who still has common roots and low-class insecurities. (Which is ironic when you consider his pedigree.) Trump is, on the one hand, democracy personified in its most vulgar form. On the other hand, he is the antithesis of what the elite managers of liberal democracies despise.
And it seems that Legutko himself is not always clear about which side of liberal democracy he's lamenting. Is he lamenting the rule of technocratic elites or the celebration of the vulgar masses? The technocratic elites definitely, desperately believe themselves to be advocates for the interests of the masses, but they often disagree with masses over what those interests are. This makes the technocrats democratic in spirit but not always in practice, and liberal in their stated goals (liberation of people from the prejudices and limitations imposed by cultures) but not always in their methods (forced liberation). Or, at least, they are contradicting themselves by certain definitions of these terms, but perhaps not by all.
He seems to know this. He seems to be pointing at a contradiction, and I appreciate that. I don't always agree with him, e.g. on gay rights, but I get his point about contradictions. I get that even the blandest, most humble "live and let live" approach to minority rights will founder upon the obstacle of popular prejudice in public education, and the desperate search for a neutral curriculum. Sometimes you simply can't be neutral. There's really no neutral ground between "This minority group is entitled to the same rights and protections as anyone else, and how they live their lives is none of your business" and "No, they are hurting society." I say that compromise is impossible not because I want to be strident but because the demands are so fundamentally opposed.
I think he's driving at this, and I respect him for making the point. I don't share his agenda, but the nature of democracy, its practicality and internal consistency, is a hard problem, and one that is not always easy to see if most people more-or-less agree on a few key fundamentals. The problems only become apparent if you have a very stark disagreement. You can't get at hard questions about democracy without some sharp disagreements to illuminate the issue, and that inevitably means hearing from people whose values are fundamentally at odds with yours. In other words, that means hearing from people whose speech is not value-neutral, on topics where the feasibility of of reasoned disagreement is most in doubt.
If you want to argue from a values standpoint that you should not dignify such views by offering them the use of your (privately owned,, privately funded, etc.) platform, well, you may be right in many contexts. But an academic department of political science pretty much has to consider such viewpoints to get at the hardest questions concerning the nature and limitations of democracy. So I get why people at Middlebury invited him and wanted to discuss his ideas. It's why I'm going to continue reading the rest of his book.
Two other issues come up:
1) Legutko doesn't just claim that liberal democracy has a hard time leaving non-conformists alone (e.g. concerning education of children), he also claims that this is a pathology shared with Marxism but not with all systems. How correct is he? Maybe there are social orders in which the elites of the capitol city don't care much how parents raise children in the hinterlands, but is there any society in which parents can avoid getting flack for raising their children with values different from those of their neighbors? Religious minorities throughout the ages have found it hard to raise their kids with their values and customs, and this is why they've tended to either cluster together or else disappear via conversion to the dominant religion.
2) On minority rights, it strikes me that their compatibility with democracy depends on how we construe the demos and its role in governance. If the demos is merely to decide matters, then popularity will (in practice if not always in theory) be paramount and minorities will lose to majorities. If, on the other hand, the demos is to be reflected in government, then it seems to me that there is room for protection of minority rights. Minority representation in government, explicit protection of certain practices or beliefs, set-asides of state jobs, funding formulas that protect districts or provinces with minorities, we see these things implemented in many different systems around the world. They are not always done with equal efficacy or compassion, and they are often window-dressing, but the very fact that he window-dressing is deemed necessary tells me that there are people who believe it enough that they need to see it to be appeased.
Showing posts with label Iliad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iliad. Show all posts
Sunday, April 28, 2019
Thursday, March 28, 2019
More thoughts on the Iliad
The Iliad is very much a tale of opulent wealth: Heroes with magnificent weapons and jewelry and furs, constant sacrifices of cattle and sheep (a form of wealth) to the gods, and great feasts. This is clearly absurd: Real wars are fought by poor schmucks eating crappy food.
On the other hand, the idea of Greek politicians squandering most of their GDP on a land war in Asia (Troy was in Asia Minor) sounds like exactly the sort of thing that politicians of any era would do. I dare say that the US Department of Defense could manage to squander at least as much money as any Argive king ever managed to squander, and for even more pointless ends. At least the Greeks ultimately did sack Troy, which guarded the waterway connecting the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea. WTF has the US DoD accomplished since WWII?
On the other hand, the idea of Greek politicians squandering most of their GDP on a land war in Asia (Troy was in Asia Minor) sounds like exactly the sort of thing that politicians of any era would do. I dare say that the US Department of Defense could manage to squander at least as much money as any Argive king ever managed to squander, and for even more pointless ends. At least the Greeks ultimately did sack Troy, which guarded the waterway connecting the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea. WTF has the US DoD accomplished since WWII?
Latest Read: The Iliad
I'm reading the Iliad. I'd only read excerpts before, and that was a long time ago. I won't post every thought I've had on it, but I have two big takeaways from the first 11 chapters:
First and foremost, the Iliad was basically an ancient TV series with an ensemble cast. It arose from an oral performance tradition, and consists of 24 chapters of roughly equal length. (No, not exactly equal, but within a factor of 2 of each other.) Some chapters are very much about the bigger story, the constant back-and-forth between the Trojans and Achaeans, with the Gods wrapped up in the drama and the central characters (e.g. Hector, Achilles, Paris, Agamemnon, Diomedes, Odysseus, Menelaeus, Nestor) making decisions that will shift the fortunes of war. Other chapters are more episodic, from that part of the TV season where the writers want to focus on a few characters in side plots. So you get chapter 10 ("Marauding through the night"), which focuses on an inept Trojan spy who folds as soon as he is caught, spills all of his info, and then gets a dishonorable death in spite of an earlier promise to not kill him. Or chapter 11 ("Agamemnon's day of glory"), which is largely about a D&D party rescuing their healer after he's been wounded in battle.
Of course, the writers on a TV series can only do so many of these "side plot" episodes before the audience will expect a return to the main story. So chapter 11 concludes with Patroclus realizing that the Achaeans desperately need help. It's pretty clear that he'll rejoin the fight soon. And all of this will lead up to heart-breaking deaths of main characters, and then an epic conclusion as the sun sets on doomed Troy.
In another parallel with TV, the Odyssey is basically a spinoff series about a supporting character who had his own die-hard fans. I can only assume that these parallels arise from ancient poets needing to keep an audience fixated over the long haul, coming back for more as they sang and chanted for their supper, just as modern TV writers need to keep an audience's attention in order to get paid.
Second, having noted analogies between the Iliad and modern popular entertainment, I was pretty astounded by some lines spoken by Achilles in chapter 9 (lines 383-391):
Or these, in which he asks what the point of bravery is:
First and foremost, the Iliad was basically an ancient TV series with an ensemble cast. It arose from an oral performance tradition, and consists of 24 chapters of roughly equal length. (No, not exactly equal, but within a factor of 2 of each other.) Some chapters are very much about the bigger story, the constant back-and-forth between the Trojans and Achaeans, with the Gods wrapped up in the drama and the central characters (e.g. Hector, Achilles, Paris, Agamemnon, Diomedes, Odysseus, Menelaeus, Nestor) making decisions that will shift the fortunes of war. Other chapters are more episodic, from that part of the TV season where the writers want to focus on a few characters in side plots. So you get chapter 10 ("Marauding through the night"), which focuses on an inept Trojan spy who folds as soon as he is caught, spills all of his info, and then gets a dishonorable death in spite of an earlier promise to not kill him. Or chapter 11 ("Agamemnon's day of glory"), which is largely about a D&D party rescuing their healer after he's been wounded in battle.
Of course, the writers on a TV series can only do so many of these "side plot" episodes before the audience will expect a return to the main story. So chapter 11 concludes with Patroclus realizing that the Achaeans desperately need help. It's pretty clear that he'll rejoin the fight soon. And all of this will lead up to heart-breaking deaths of main characters, and then an epic conclusion as the sun sets on doomed Troy.
In another parallel with TV, the Odyssey is basically a spinoff series about a supporting character who had his own die-hard fans. I can only assume that these parallels arise from ancient poets needing to keep an audience fixated over the long haul, coming back for more as they sang and chanted for their supper, just as modern TV writers need to keep an audience's attention in order to get paid.
Second, having noted analogies between the Iliad and modern popular entertainment, I was pretty astounded by some lines spoken by Achilles in chapter 9 (lines 383-391):
No, what lasting thanks in the long runCompare with these lines from Ecclesiastes, in which the author questions the point of wisdom and labor, when the wise man will suffer the same death as the fool, and the wise man who works can take nothing with him, but must leave it behind to a man who may be a fool:
for warring with our enemies, on and on, no end?
One and the same lot for the man who hangs back
and the man who battles hard. The same honor waits
for the coward and the brave. They both go down to Death,
the fighter who shirks, the one who works to exhaustion.
And what's laid up for me, what pittance? Nothing—
and after suffering hardships, year in, year out,
staking my life on the mortal risks of war.
And I saw that wisdom has as much profit over folly as light has over darkness.
Wise people have eyes in their heads, but fools walk in darkness.
Yet I knew that the same lot befalls both. So I said in my heart, if the fool’s lot is to befall me also, why should I be wise? Where is the profit? And in my heart I decided that this too is vanity. The wise person will have no more abiding remembrance than the fool; for in days to come both will have been forgotten. How is it that the wise person dies like the fool! Therefore I detested life, since for me the work that is done under the sun is bad; for all is vanity and a chase after wind.
And I detested all the fruits of my toil under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who is to come after me. And who knows whether that one will be wise or a fool? Yet that one will take control of all the fruits of my toil and wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity.
(Ecclesiastes 2:13-19)
Or these, in which he asks what the point of bravery is:
Again I saw under the sun that the race is not won by the swift, nor the battle by the valiant, nor a livelihood by the wise, nor riches by the shrewd, nor favor by the experts; for a time of misfortune comes to all alike. (Ecclesiastes 9:11)Now, the Iliad was hardly the only ancient work in which a man questioned the point of valor, but it was an influential work in the Hellenistic world, and I understand that the author of Ecclesiastes had at least some exposure to that world. So I'm left to wonder if these parallels with Achilles' speech were deliberate literary devices. I understand that the extent of Hellenistic influences on Ecclesiastes are very much debated by people who know the original texts and background far better than I do, so I will merely note the common, resonant themes, but offer no further speculation on the extent (if any) of Homeric influence on Ecclesiastes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)