Thursday, December 9, 2010

The Historian and the Formation of National Identity: The Narrative and Classroom as Lieux de Memoire

Paul Evans
evans2pm@gmail.com


The Historian and the Formation of National Identity:
The Narrative and the Classroom as Lieux de Mémoire

In his work Nations and Nationalism (1983), Ernest Gellner links the emergence of nations with the rise of the industrial era. He argues that the rapid economic change of industrialization and the need for a division of labor required the implementation of nationalism to mold culturally homogenous and educated populations. By his theory, the final step of this process is the creation of nations. What is implicit in this process is the need for new national identities to galvanize nations. In his famous lecture at the Sorbonne in March 1882, Ernest Renan explained, “Nations are…something new in history. What characterizes these various nations is the fusion of the populations which compose them” (Renan, 1882). The fusion of the French population for both industrial and nationalist goals required an articulation of French national identity. After the year 1789, any such conception of a common French national identity had to somehow confront the consequences of the French Revolution. As Krishnan Kumar explains, “everything in the past flowed towards it; everything in the future took its point of departure from it” (Kumar, 10). In his essay The Burden of History (1966) Hayden White explains that beginning with the nineteenth century, the disciplines of art, science, philosophy and history saw that their common task was to interpret the memory of French Revolution (125). This remained the case throughout the nineteenth century in France during which the historians Jules Michelet (1798-1874) and Ernest Lavisse (1842-1922) attempted to define the French national character or genius through their writings. In the face of perceived threats to French republican idealism and fortitude, both historians assumed the responsibility of rehabilitating the memory of The Revolution as the defining event of French National identity. However, as the historian Pierre Nora indicates in Les Leiux de Mémoire, what these historians engender are not authentic memories but rather “artificial creations: ‘places of memory,’ not memories themselves” (Nora qtd in Englund, 305). Just as Nora’s “places of memory” are artificial creations, so too, are the identities constructed at them. For Jules Michelet during the first half of the nineteenth century, the narrative was the lieu de mémoire and the site of identity formation. In the case of Ernest Lavisse nearly fifty years later, the French classroom became the lieu de mémoire and the venue for the formation of French national identity. Thus, the recent historiography of France demonstrates the agency of historians in the formation of national identity.
Nora’s understanding of the relationship between collective memory and national identity is based on a critical distinction between history and memory—lieux and milieux de mémoire. He believes that history becomes necessary when people become aware of the “pastness of the past” and the need for written documents to recall it (Tai, 915). He argues that France’s need for memory has in fact been a need for history—that is, “a recreation of applied critical reason, which fixes the past, but only at the cost of discontinuity and distance” (Nora qtd. in Englund 305). The role of historians is therefore to “respond to the emotional and psychological needs of their citizens” (Englund, 305). When the historian responds in this way his role becomes a political one, his interpretation of past national memory (milieux de mémoire) becomes history (lieux de mémoire), and his narrative becomes an expression of nationalism. This is why Eric Hobsbawm argues in his essay “Ethnicity and Nationalism in Europe Today” (1996) that “historians are to nationalism what poppy-growers in Pakistan are to heroin addicts: {they} supply the essential raw material for the market (Hobsbawm, 255). Jules Michelet and Ernest Lavisse’s writings must therefore be interpreted as responses to the demand for historically rooted nationalist narratives.
Jules Michelet’s works Peuple (1846) and Histoire de la Révolution Française (1847) are expressions of the revolutionary nationalism of 1848 (Jenkins, 55). Michelet was driven by the reemergence of class cleavages and social inequality in France under the rule of Louis Philippe (1830-1848) (Haac, 500). For Michelet, this was evidence that the spirit of the revolution had not endured. He writes in Histoire de la Révolution Française,

Unanimous! There was a complete and unreserved agreement, a quite simple situation with the nation on one side and privilege on the other. And in the nation, then, there was no distinction possible between the people and the bourgeoisie…..Ah! who would not be touched by the remembrance of that unique moment, which was our point of departure? It was short-lived, but it remains for us the ideal towards which we shall always tend.

(Histoire de la Révolution Française, I, 88-89)

In an effort to revive the character and spirit of The Revolution, Michelet was concerned with establishing continuity between the past and present. Anthony Smith (2004) identifies this process as a convention of nationalist ideologies where the historian resurrects memories of “golden ages” aiming at national regeneration, establishment of continuity, dignity, and destiny (Smith, 20). As demonstrated by his writings, Michelet felt a strong sense of duty as a historian to locate the character of The Revolution in the present and to point out the “chain of destiny and to prepare the people for a free and glorious future” (Haac, 501).
Ernest Lavisse wrote 27 volumes of Histoire de France between 1900 and 1912. Lavisse was known during his time as “the evangelist of the Republic.” He also acquired the nickname “the nation’s teacher” as his short reader Le Petit Lavisse became the primary textbook used in teaching history in French secondary schools around the turn of the century (Kumar, 10). Krishnan Kumar explains that following the Dreyfus Affair and humiliating defeat in the Franco-Prussian War of 1871, Lavisse “aimed at a comprehensive rehabilitation of the French republican idea” (Kumar 10). In a speech delivered in August of 1905 at the village of Nouvion-en-Thierache, Ernest Lavisse addressed a classroom full of students from his native region. He spoke,
My children, our fatherland is not merely a territory; it is a human structure, begun centuries ago, which we are continuing, which you will continue.
(qtd. In Singer, 414)

By personifying French national identity as a “human structure” and locating it in the past, the present, and the future, Lavisse establishes the continuity of The Revolutionary character and a sense of common destiny shared between generations. Therefore, Lavisse’s task is the same as Michelet’s was fifty years earlier.
However, the point of departure between Michelet and Lavisse begins with how each historian presents his narrative with respect to historical verisimilitude. Michelet was more concerned with composing a compelling narrative than with scientifically piecing together the past. He believed the French national identity should not be treated objectively nor did he accept that as an historian he was obligated to remain neutral in his representation of it. Rather, Michelet injected notions of morality, justice, and judgment into his narrative (Haac, 498). Ceri Crossley (1993) explains, “Michelet abandoned any sense of the historian as a straightforward chronicler of events.” More than a mere “intellectual reconstruction,” Michelet’s narrative was “an impassioned act of recreation” (Crossley, 186). It elicited an emotional response, one that invited the reader to collaborate with the author in constructing French national identity.
By contrast, Ernest Lavisse’s narrative is composed from archival research, documentary evidence and it is generally regarded as a more scientific approach to redefining French national identity. It is not necessarily a more accurate representation of history, but its form implies greater consideration for verisimilitude. Whereas Michelet’s romantic narrative exposes the tension between classes that existed before the Revolution of 1848, Lavisse’s intent was to construct a “single and unified national story that could be employed to encourage a cohesive and patriotic people” (Wright, 206). His method effectively limits the agency of his audience in the recreation of national identity. Suzanne Citron (1989) argues that Lavisse’s narrative never “invites the qualities of lucidity, critical reflection, or tolerance,” nor does it “encourage initiative or participation” (Citron qtd. in Jenkins, 86). Thus, the narratives of Jules Michelet and Ernest Lavisse differ not only in their consideration of verisimilitude but also in their concern for the participation of their audience in identity making.
For Pierre Nora, more important than how or whether the historian engages his audience is where the historian engages his audience. The venue of this interaction has implications for relationship between the historian, his audience, and the formation of national identity. Nora defines a lieu de mémoire as any site “where cultural memory crystallizes and secretes itself” (NoraL 1989, 7). Lieux are symbolic objects of memory—they can be archives, libraries, dictionaries and museums, as well as commemorations, performances, and institutions (Nora: 1989, 11). Lieux are for historians and their audiences the sites where memory becomes history. For French historians including Michelet and Lavisse, they are also where the mythic character of The Revolution can be translated into national identity. To reiterate, for Michelet, these processes took place within the body of his narrative. For Lavisse, known during his time as the “nation’s teacher” (Kumar, 10), history and identity making took place exclusively in the classroom.
Ceri Crossley (1993) credits French historian Augustin Thierry (1795-1856) with redefining the function of the historian as narrator (Crossley, 51). Moving away from the past convention of preserving the reader’s “detachment and freedom,’ Thierry felt that the historian was obligated to envelop his reader “in the seamless fabric of the past” (Thierry qtd. in Crossley, 51). Jules Michelet inherited this redefinition of the role of historian. His narrative provided a venue for participation in that it offered to the reader the possibility of “acceding in turn, at an additional remove, to the revelatory moment (Crossley, 246).” The moment that Crossley is referring to is the moment when the reader becomes aware of his agency in the construction of French national identity. To this end, Michelet intentionally avoided context and temporality in his narrative. Nor did he develop thoughts from one sentence to the next. In a description of this tactic Roland Champagne (1984) explains that reading Michelet’s narrative “demanded interrupting reflections upon the ties connecting the sentences to one another” (Champagne, 47). In this, Champagne argues, Michelet’s reader is “forced to link the interruptions of reading with the text and his or her own self.” This challenge demands that reading Michelet’s narrative be “an activity and a creativity” (Champagne, 48). In Histoire de la Révolution Française (1847-1853), Michelet writes,

Time has perished, space has perished, those two material conditions to which life is subject…A strange vita nuova, eminently spiritual, is beginning for France and making her whole Revolution a sort of dream, at one time delightful, at another terrible….It knew neither time nor space.

(Histoire de la Révolution Française, II, 155-6)

Michelet’s narrative is the site where the historian and his reader collaborate in the process of identity making. It should therefore be considered a lieu de mémoire.
As the chair of the History department at College de France and as an instructor of philosophy and history at École Normale, Michelet’s primary audience was his students (Crossley, 184). He was aware of his position of influence and unafraid to politicize his classroom. His method was to let his students read their books while he “endowed them with the needed enthusiasm and the moral interpretation of history” (Haac 500). Michelet’s tactic apparently worked, as it was the young intellectuals of France who helped to prepare the Revolution of 1848 and later worked to perpetuate it (Haac, 500). After being dismissed from his teaching positions by Louis Napoleon in 1851 for his controversial lectures, Michelet sought out new ways to influence the largest audience possible. He viewed his dismissal as an opportunity to move beyond the narrow confines of his role as teacher and engage a broader audience, “exalting democracy, the harmony of moral life, and education for the people which was to be guided toward a realization of its capacities” (Haac, 500). Thus, Michelet’s role was not merely to instruct from the top down, but more importantly to inspire from the bottom up.
Michelet’s emphasis on recreating French national identity in his narrative stands in direct contrast to Ernest Lavisse’s more scientific and structured approach to accomplishing the same task in the classroom. The difference in style and approach is reflective of a larger change in French historiography that took place towards the second half of the nineteenth century. In The Burden of History (1966) Hayden White explains that historians from this period saw their work as “a combination of romantic art on the one hand and of positivistic science on the other” (White, 126). The role of the historian thus changed in that his task was now in “fusing the new method of social and psychological analysis with his traditional storytelling function” (White, 126). With this, history became narrower in its scope and methods and less interdisciplinary as compared to the first part of the nineteenth century. Concomitantly, its telling became more about instruction and less about inspiration and participation. The aims of both the academic and political world were in accord as history became institutionalized (Wright, 205 and 206). The state demanded a single and unified national historical narrative that could be used to promote a cohesive and patriotic people. Inasmuch as the historian was a tool for nation-building, his task in forging a national identity was also a response to
industrialization’s need for a more educated workforce (Wright, 205). In Les Lieux de Mémoire Pierre Nora describes that during this period the historian was operating “under the state’s aegis,” drafted into national service as “half priest, half soldier,” responsible for organizing collective memory and recreating French national identity (Nora qtd. in Englund, 305).
To restate Nora’s theory, these processes take place at lieux de mémoire, or memory sites. Thus, the lieu de mémoire for Lavisse was the classroom where commemoration became the mechanism by which French national identity was formed. Lavisse’s histories were adapted into textbooks and used throughout France in newly formed state schools. His scientific re-telling of French national past was crucial to the inculcation of republican principles and the forging of national identity (Jenkins, 83). Unlike Michelet whose narrative encouraged interaction and creativity on the part of his reader, Lavisse’s histories encouraged neither collaboration nor participation. Rather than inspiring nationalism, Lavisse instructed it. In A Propos de Nos Ecoles (1895) he writes, “if we flood children’s heads with images of a powerful France, then they will carry these ideas with them forever” (Lavisse, 11). Lavisse addresses his audience (the schoolchildren) at the beginning of Histoire cours Moyen (1912) with a poem,
Child,
You see on the cover of this book the flowers and the fruits of France
In this book, you will learn the history of France.
You must love France because nature has made her beautiful,
And because her history has made her great.

Again, Lavisse’s tone is didactic and authoritative, instructive rather than inclusive. Therefore, in presenting a more scientific organization of history to a captive and impressionable audience, Lavisse’s aim was to inculcate a sense of French national identity.
The democratic movement started by Michelet at the first half of the nineteenth century had been appropriated by the state and it assumed the “guise of a aggressive, overtly political ideology” (Jenkins, 86). During Lavisse’s tenure education in France had been made free, secular, but the tradeoff was that it became obligatory and highly political—an effective tool in “assimilating the children of the diverse traditions of France and building a culturally cohesive state” (Wright, 207). Therefore, the role of historian as custodian of nationalism and French national identity moved from left to right during the nineteenth century. With it, the construction of national identity became less a function of the people and more a function of the state.
Modernist theorists of nationalism including Eric Hobsbawm, Ernest Gellner, and John Breuilly contend that both nations and nationalism are uniquely modern phenomena created by industrialization and occurring since the French Revolution (Kumar, 14). Therefore, the role of the historian as author of nationalist narratives and of national identity is also a modern one. The recent historiography of France most effectively illustrates the how modern historians have attempted to forge national identities out of glorified and exaggerated accounts of the past. However, as the comparison between Jules Michelet and Ernest Lavisse demonstrates, the historian’s role has not remained constant since its inception in the wake of the French Revolution. The most telling indicator of how the historian’s role evolved during the nineteenth century has been the change in the chosen lieux de mémoire—the place where the memory becomes history and national identity is recreated. Whereas Jules Michelet’s narrative encouraged the participation of his reader in the construction of national identity from the bottom-up, Lavisse’s didacticism informs his preference for inculcating French national identity from the top-down. Both historians’ approach to forging national identity was shaped by historical context and their relationship to the state. Michelet’s highly romanticized and lyric narrative mobilized people against the state and exposed the tension between classes on the eve of the Revolution of 1848. By contrast, Lavisse’s more objective and scientific approach to forging a unified and cohesive national identity informs his subjectivity to and cooperation with the state. Though from different perspectives and to differing degrees, the work of both Jules Michelet and Ernest Lavisse was influential in the development of the Annales school which includes Pierre Nora in its third generation of historians (Forster, 60). Annales historians have deemphasized the importance of French history since 1789 and instead considered a longer period of history (la longue durée) and a wider range of disciplines in their analyses of French history and identity (Forster, 59). In an article published in Annales journal in 1903 explaining the Annales method and cause, Francois Simiand writes,
We publish this especially for younger historians in order to allow
them to take stock of the road we have traveled in a half-century, and to gain a better understanding of the dialogue between History and the Social Sciences, which remains the goal and raison d’etre of our review.
(Simiand qtd. in Forster, 61)

This represents a break with the political use of history employed 19th century French historians including Michelet and Lavisse. Thus we have arrived at a clear evolution of the role of historian beginning with Michelet who sought to inspire national identity, Lavisse who instructed national identity, and Nora (representing the Annales school) who more purely sought to understand it.
References
Champagne, Roland. Literary History in the wake of Roland Barthes:
Redefining the Myths of Reading. Birmingham, Alabama. Summa Publications, Inc. 1984.
Crossley, Ceri. French Historians and Romanticism: Thierry, Guizot, the
Saint-Simonians, Quinet, Michelet. London. Routledge Publishers. 1993.
Englund, Steven. “The Ghost of Nation Past.” The Journal of Modern History, Vol 64,
No. 2 (June., 1992), pp. 299-320.
Forster, Robert. “Achievements of the Annales School.” The Journal of Economic
History, Vol. 38, No. 1, The Tasks of Economic History (Mar., 1978), pp. 58-76.
Gellner, Ernest. Nations and Nationalism. New York. Cornell University Press. 1983.
Haac, Oscar. “Michelet’s Purpose.” Proceedings of the American Philosphical Society,
Vol. 94, No.5 (Oct. 19, 1950). pp 494-501.
Hobsbawm, Eric. “Ethnicity and Nationalism in Europe Today.” from Mapping the
Nation. Gopal Balakrishnan ed. New York. Verso Publications. 1996. pp. 255-
266.
Jenkins, Brian. Class and Nation Since 1789. London ; New York : Routledge, 1990.
Kumar, Krishnan. “Nationalism and the Historians,” in Delanty, Gerard and Kumar, Krishnan, The Sage Handbook of Nations of Nations and Nationalism.
London. Sage Publication, Ltd. Pp. 7-20.
Lavisse, Ernest. Histoire de France, Cours Moyen. Armand Colin ed. Paris. Librarie
Armand Colin. 1912.

Lavisse, Ernest. A Propos de Nos écoles. Armand Colin ed. Paris. Librarie Armand
Colin. 1895.
Michelet, Jules. Le Peuple. ed. Paulin, 1846. À M. Edgar Quinet. p. XLIII
Michelet, Jules. Histoire de la Révolution française.éd. Chamerot, 1850, t. 1er, p. XVI
Nora, Pierre. Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Mémoire. Representations,

No. 26, Special Issue: Memory and Counter-Memory, (Spring, 1989),

pp. 7-24

Renan, Ernest. Lecture at Sorbonne; 11 March 1882
in Discours et Conferences. Paris,
Calman-Levy, 1887, pp. 277-310.
Singer, Barnett. “From Patriots to Pacifists: The French Primary School Teachers, 1880-
1940. Journal of Contemporary History, Vol. 12, No. 3 (Jul., 1977), pp. 413-434
Smith, Anthony. The Antiquity of Nations. London. Polity, 2004.
Tai, Hue-Tam Ho. “Remembered Realms: Pierre Nora and French National Memory. “
The American Historical Review, Vol. 106, No. 3 (Jun., 2001), pp. 906-
922.
White, Hayden. “The Burden of History.” History and Theory, Vol. 5, No. 2 (1966), pp.
111-134.
Wright, Sue. Community and Communication: The Role of Language in Nation-State
Building and European Integration. New York. Multilingual Matters, 2000.

Monday, December 6, 2010

"This is my body, which is given for you."


Coordinates:
N 37 34
W 77 30


Listening: "Politik," by Coldplay from "A Rush of Blood to the Head" (2002)

Luke 22: 14-30

This is my body, which is given for you.

When I was a child, my mother would often read Shel Silverstein’s story “The Giving Tree” (Harper and Row, 1964) to me as I fell asleep. For those of you unfamiliar with the story, this is a tale about a relationship between a young boy and a tree. The tree, personified, gradually gives away her leaves, apples, and branches to the young boy who uses these things to make himself happy. As the boy grows into a young man, he requires more of the tree, and ultimately cuts her down so that he can build a boat in which to sail away. Many years later, the tree-- now merely a stump-- and the boy --now a tired old man-- reconnect as the stump serves as a suitable place for her beloved to sit and rest.

Recently in my daily life I have found myself requiring more of God—asking God more frequently for strength when I am tested, for courage when I am afraid, and for patience and calm when I am faced with anxiety. The more I have come to rely on God’s mercy, the more I have been questioning of my worthiness to receive it. Like Jesus’ disciples at the Last Supper, I’ve been struggling to discern whether the balance of my virtue versus my iniquity has earned me a place at the table.

Silverstein’s story about unconditional love and self-sacrifice helps me to see the Eucharist as a reminder of God’s grace and my worthiness to receive it. Though I may have wandered far from my Provider, this passage from the Gospel of Luke helps me to understand the season of Advent as an invitation back to the table and an opportunity for new life in God through the birth of His son Jesus Christ.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Inaugurated


Current Location: Florence, Italy

Listening: Ave Maria, (Prelude in C Major by J.S. Bach with sung melody as arranged by Charles Gounud) performed by Bobby McFerrin and his audience

In one of his first executive orders, President Barack Obama ordered a 120 day freeze on all military trials of terrorist suspects being held in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Obama has pledged that the military commission system set up there under the Bush administration will be defunct by 2010. Reactions to this decision have been split in America. Many hailed it as a first and important step towards building a new foreign policy. Others criticized it as irresponsible, dangerous, and compromising of national security.

The fault lines surrounding this issue are partisan. Republicans tend to be critical of the decision to close Guantanamo while Democrats are largely supportive of it. At the risk of furthering and potentially exploiting a false dichotomy, the respective positions inform the broader world views of the two camps. For the past eight years the Republican security strategy has been influenced by the deeply held neoconservative conviction that we live in an utterly anarchic world where the rule of law is unreliable and where civil liberties must sometimes be sacrificed to fight the war on terror. Democrats tend to place more faith in the rule of law and more of an emphasis on the protection of civil liberties at all cost. Both perspectives rely on dangerous assumptions.

In his article Smart Power; In Search of the Balance between Hard and Soft Power (2006), Joseph Nye continues his previous efforts to classify the utility of power. (See Soft Power, 1990, by Nye). Prior to writing this article, Nye had made a critical distinction between hard power and soft power. He defines hard power as the use of military means and coercion to achieve foreign policy objectives. Soft power is its opposite, whereby foreign policy goals are met by means of attraction rather than coercion. When writing this article in 1990, Nye was careful to explain that these are analytic terms and not political positions. However, I do believe that today he would agree with the following generalization: that the Republican approach to foreign policy over the past eight years has been characteristic of hard power and that the Democratic opposition has been more preferential of soft power.

In the context of our current conflicts in the Middle East and the ongoing War on Terror, (which, by the way needs to be renamed immediately to something less invective and provocative) both approaches must be employed. Nye argues, "we need hard power to battle the extremists, we need the soft power of attraction to win the hearts and minds of the majority of Muslims (103)." To this end, Nye proposes the term smart power--a new attitude about foreign policy which stems from the belief that "soft power is not necessarily better than hard power and that the two should be complementary parts of an effective strategy" (105). I agree with this, and I also believe that going forward, President Obama's emphasis on restraint, diplomacy, and building relationships must be coupled with a willingness to employ military force when necessary.

The most important thing--and I believe that Mr. Obama's decision to close Guantanamo Bay has made this abundantly clear--is that we set and implement policies that are consistent with our American values.

Employing smart power necessarily requires change in American foreign policy. If we are serious about spreading democracy and rebuilding our reputation in the world, our actions must reflect our values. With Iraq, we have learned the limits of coercive democratization. Following 9/11 2001 and with Abu Ghraib in 2003, we have been forced to deal not only with our roles as victims of atrocity, but also with our capacity to serve as agents of atrocity when our judgement is impaired by notions of moral superiority and righteousness. With Israel, we have been confronted with the power of wealthy lobbyists to compromise the legitimacy of American foreign policy by bending it in a direction that does not serve our interests. With Guantanamo, we have seen the hypocrisy of a legal system that keeps suspected terrorists awaiting trial indefinitely while subjecting them to torture. The total effect of these actions is a foreign policy characterized by hard power alone--one that has ironically compromised our power, freedom, and security relative to the rest of the world.

I agree with those who see closing the military prisons at Guantanamo Bay not only as a step away from the policies of the Bush administration, but as a step towards restoring American credibility, reestablishing American moral authority, and towards winning the hearts and minds of those nations who might partner with us in the poorly named War on Terror.

This does not mean a policy of appeasement. Military power and the threat of military action must remain a central part of American foreign policy. However, as Nye points out, there is tremendous opportunity to strengthen American soft power. Diplomacy, broadcasting, exchange programs, development assistance, disaster relief, and military-to-military contacts already all exist within our government. Implementing an American foreign policy characterized by smart power requires that Mr. Obama integrate these mechanisms into an overarching national security strategy. The clock is ticking.......

work cited: Nye, Joseph. Smart Power; In Search of the Balance between Hard and Soft Power. Democracy: A Journal of Ideas, Issue 2, 2006. pp. 102-107.

"Coercion, after all, merely captures a man. Freedom captivates him."

Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara
Kennedy and Johnson Cabinets 1961-1968




Sunday, January 11, 2009

New Years' Resolution


Location: Florence, Italy 
Listening: Black Sheep, by Martin Sexton

 
Back in Florence. Returning to Richmond after my second extended absence of 2008 felt like showing up late to a party that had never really ended. Things immediately fell back into place.


Every writer has a tumultuous relationship with his hometown and mine is no different. For me, this is a relationship characterized by an almost reflexive veneration of the continuities of the place--running down Monument Avenue where Jackson, Stuart, Lee stand still to remind passers by of Richmond's confederate past, attending evensong at St. Stephen's Church at the top of Grove Avenue, having drinks with old friends at Philip's Continental Lounge, playing music at old haunts, and of course the experience of Christmas and all of its traditions with my family. 


In all of the writings in this blog I've been unapologetically candid and emotionally blunt. This will not change in 2009. That being said, I once again take license to be sentimental in my reflections. Christmas break this year was for me a powerful reminder of how blessed and fortunate I am. In Richmond I leave a life characterized by an overwhelming sense of belonging and community, full of friends and family that I've loved all of my life. Because it is home, Richmond to me is the most comfortable and natural place in the world. The past there welcomed me and over break I welcomed it. 


But back to that idea about a writer having a tumultuous relationship with his home. Much of of what William Faulkner wrote was inspired by the need to deal with home--his obligation as an author to represent the social, political, economic, and moral conditions present in the Post-Bellum South with respect to verisimilitude and towards the people and places about whom and where he was writing. Faulkner's fiction (his invented truths) are far more true than any journalistic or observational account of his subject could ever be. As I Lay Dying (1930) and The Unvanquished (1938) are set in the fictitious  "Yoknapatawhpha" County, a device Faulkner employed in many of his novels that allowed him to engage his subject (Post-Bellum South) more critically while still remaining respectful to his native region. Through his fiction, Faulkner was able to represent The South as it actually was, and in so doing hint at what led to its fall and what might bring about its resurrection. 


Inspired by Faulkner's method and by my 28 days back home in Richmond, Va, I now reveal to you my New Years' resolution for 2009--to begin writing a novel inspired by my experience growing up in Richmond. There are so many people and places that are fodder for fantastic fiction--many ideas that have been floating around in my head drawn from my experiences at St. Christopher's (Tom Wolfe, writer, went to St. Christopher's) as a student, in smoky bars as a musician, at St. Stephen's Church as a gopher, as a bum down at the River during summers, and at home with my family, the center of it all. 


Ironically, I've spent the majority of my life thus far defining myself in opposition to the standards and conventional norms of Richmond, Va. Those of you know who know me well are aware that this is certainly true politically, as Richmond, Va is one of the most conservative cities on the east coast, if not America. I'd be better suited for somewhere like Burlington, Vermont or somewhere out west with the hippies and long haired freaks. But the fortunate result of this misplacement is that I've gained the privileged perspective of an almost objective observer, wandering at the periphery of the culture, taking notes all along with the intention of representing it in bound format at some point in the future. Well, 2009, here I go. 


I think I already know to whom it will be dedicated.... 


P.S. Yes, it is true that I am a graduate student in a foreign country studying political science. But the more I'm here, the more I believe that it's for some other purpose completely unrelated to the European Union, Democratic theory or any of that esoteric crap. I'm beginning to think that it's giving the the distance and time away from home that I need to begin writing. 
Stay Tuned.


P.S.S. If you have not yet done so, DO watch the Martin Sexton video I've put a link to up above. Martin Sexton is America's best kept secret--an AMAZING performer. 


"I believe that man will not merely endure. He will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance."
 
--William Faulkner

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

President Barack Obama


Location: Florence, Italy
Listening: Won't Get Fooled Again, by The Who
Wearing: PermaGrin (Leah's idea)

President Barack Obama.....President Barack Obama?.....President Barack Obama!

I kept repeating these words to myself this morning at 5:45 am Florence time shortly after I found out that the United States of America elected Barack Obama in a landslide defeat over Senator John McCain. I experienced a number of different emotions shortly after making this discovery. 

First, disbelief. I had stayed up late into the Florence evening trying to wait for the last polls on the west coast to close so that I could be part of the moment. Unfortunately, fatigue set in and I dozed off for about an hour. Upon waking and checking CNN.com, I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not. This was the first time that I uttered the words President- Barack- Obama--almost as if they were too improbable to be spoken in that order. I rubbed my eyes. I was awake, and it was true. 
  
Next, excitement. This was my political Christmas, the image that I (like many, many others) had been hoping and waiting for for over a year. And it was all wrapped up in Red, White, and Blue. 

Then, concern. I couldn't help but worry for the safety of the President-elect and his family as they walked out on stage together. Considering the historical magnitude of this moment for African Americans (and of course ALL Americans) and the fates of the two most prominent black leaders of the sixties (King, Malcolm X), I was afraid that someone was going to try and hurt him. This will be an ongoing fear for me. 

The next thing I felt was a sort of catharsis-- an emotional release. It's been a while since I've teared up, but I will admit that I was overwhelmed by the moment and could not keep my eyes from watering up. I (again, like many others) had invested so much in this, and I could finally let go of the anxiety and waiting. Hope, Progress, and Change had finally come. 

After this I fell back asleep.

And the last emotion that I've felt up to this point happened to me earlier today as I was walking across Santo Spirito Square to get a bite to eat. In celebration, I chose to put on a coat and tie this morning. The tie that I selected to wear is red, white, and blue--which clearly identified me as an American. Being the long, lanky thing that I am, small Italian people tend to notice me as I walk by, and this time I noticed they were smiling at me. It was at this moment--on a beautiful fall day in Italy over 4,000 miles from the United States--that I was more proud than I have ever been in my life to be a citizen of the United States of America. Pride is what I felt then, what I feel now, and what I will continue to feel as long as Barack Hussein (yes, that's his middle name and NO, it doesn't scare me) Obama is the Commander in Chief of the United States of America. We have our leader. 

On facebook I've been watching some of the things that people are saying about the election outcome. Many are wonderful, positive, expressions of patriotism and pride. Others are angrier, bitter, and some even offensive. I hope that all you will reject cynicism and self-interest and instead I invite you to take advantage of this opportunity for unity. This moment in American history is bigger than you, bigger than me, bigger the triviality of wedge-politics, bigger than Republican and bigger than Democrat. It is about a new direction for America, one that will allow us to restore our reputation globally and with many of our own citizens at home who have been neglected, left out, or forgotten. (I'm thinking specifically of veterans and many of the people who STILL do not have a home in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.) 

As for the notion of American Exceptionalism--I believe that America is today more exceptional than it has ever been. But Barack Obama embodies a new American Exceptionalism, one that is defined by hope, progress, empathy, restraint, intelligence, and class, entirely free of any pejorative connotations. This is the emergence of The New America, and I'm proud to be a part of it. 
 
God Bless America. --Paul 

"Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future. "

--President John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

October 2008






Location: Florence, Italy
Listening: Welcome Red, by The Benevento/Russo Duo

I hope that you are all still out there. Keeping up with my blog has been particularly difficult for me as of late because of the overwhelming workload that I've been dealing with. Now that classes have begun I'm responsible for approximately 800-1000 pages of reading each week. 
There are weekly papers, presentations, and discussions that I must also prepare for. This is definitely the challenge that I was looking for. 


The subject matter for the first semester is primarily background material to familiarize us with all things EU--grand theories of integration, profiles on member states, explanations of policy-making procedures, and a formal introduction to the bureaucratic structure of the European Union. It's a lot of information. I look forward to getting beyond this "stuff" so that I can begin to deal with the larger questions facing the EU and its validity and purpose. I've always preferred subjectivity to objectivity. 


The Real World: Florence 
Having done this study abroad thing before (London 2003), I had a pretty good idea of what I was getting into. When you pack 16 twenty-somethings into a beautiful palazzo in the heart of Florence, Italy you can be certain that there will be a certain level of drama. As I mentioned in my last post, there are 12 girls and only 4 males living in this house. I don't think the pheromones have kicked in yet but there have certainly been moments of tension between some of the girls. We four males have done a good job so far of avoiding these. 


We've managed to go out on the town a handful of evenings since we've been here and I've been relieved to discover that there is a core group that shares my passion for "having a big time." Life is lived much more fully if we adhere to the work hard/ play hard attitude. 


Next Thursday I'm traveling with the group to Ireland for 4 days and then with a smaller group to London for 3. I feel a bit ambivalent about returning to Ireland after having spent a large part of my summer there, but I'll be going to Dublin and points further north/northeast far away from the coastal places that I hit earlier. I haven't been to London since 2004 so I don't mind returning to my old stomping grounds for a visit. I love that city. 


Phish:


The band Phish announced that they will be reuniting in March of 2009 to do three shows at Hampton Coliseum in Virginia. Those of you who know me and are aware of the absurd distances (Miami to Vermont and many many places in between) I have traveled to see these guys play can imagine how happy this makes me. 


Phish has a bad rap in the mainstream because of associations with drugs, do-nothingness on the part of fans, and a refusal to respond to the demands and expectations of major record labels. Truly, this was something that started purely from the ground up with no expectations of stardom, fame, or widespread commercial success. In fact, the realization of some of these things (yes, including drug addiction) was exactly what led to the first and second disbandments in 2000 (hiatus) and 2004, respectively. Essentially, Phish fell victim to the classic Rock and Roll cliches of fame and excess that has destroyed so many other Rock bands in the past. 


But while Rock and Roll is a bunch of bullshit-- music is not. And if you've been lucky enough to catch these guys live when they're "on" when there is an almost visible energy exchange between the band and the audience, you know that there is something special and unique about the music being created. And as long as this revamping is coming from the same pure, honest (and sober) place it originated from (a college dorm in at University of Vermont in 1983) then I could not be happier that the music will begin again. 


For many people including myself, music is faith. In fact, at this point in my life I believe that in many ways music is safer than many of the other avenues people take to discover a connection with a higher power. Organized religion today is more often about politics and power than it is about people and what makes them feel alive. Music is the purest faith--an unambiguous and indiscriminating energy that soothes and strengthens all souls willing to surrender to its seductive nature. 


I'm reminded of Nathaniel Hawthorne's story The May-Pole of Merry Mount (1837). The story is centered around a pagan-esque celebration that follows a wedding of two young kids in Puritan New England at the beginning of the 19th century. The wedding party dancing around the May-pole is interrupted by an elder who is appalled at the scene who then orders for the group to be whipped and clothed in more conservative garb. Hawthorne's use of satire here is intransient--it hearkens back to issues related to The Fall of Man in the Garden of Eden and also says much about contemporary societal forces that that repress the sort of unconventional behavior symbolized by the may-pole dance. But as I said in my last post, none of the repressive efforts of any of the institutions that are the matter of our zeitgeist will get us back "into the garden." So really, both social reactionism and conservatism are futile attempts to repress those things about the human condition that hint at our fallibility, mortality, and ironically even our humanity. The good news is that we don't have to get back into The Garden, but that's another controversial theological debate that I'll deal with later. 


Today in America there are too many forces telling us that we're not good enough, or that we don't look the right way or that we don't have enough money, talent, or ambition. But for me and many others, Music (and especially the music of Phish) is a well that we draw from that reminds us of what we do have, who we truly are, and what is pure, honest and sacred in the one life that we are given. With the music there is no room for hatred, fear, or sadness--only joy. Today, we've got our may-pole back. 


"The trick is to surrender to the flow."


from The Lizards, Gamehenge Narrative by Phish


PS--If you want to know exactly what I'm talking about, click this link and watch carefully at what happens between the 4 minute mark and the 7 minute mark, paying careful attention to what happens at the 6 minute mark. 




 

Thursday, September 11, 2008

Wash Uffize, Drive me to Firenze




Current Location: Florence, Italy
Current Coordinates: 43° 49' 60 N 11° 19' 60 E
Listening: You Enjoy Myself, by Phish, 12/30/94, Madison Square Garden, NY, NY
Reading: Origins and Evolution of the European Union, by Desmond Dinan, 2006



I've been in Florence now for over a week and have not yet had a chance to post anything. In part, this is because of the overwhelming orientation program which has trotted us all over the city from gallery to piazza to churches and to other places of cultural significance. It is also because I have spent most of my free time getting to know the people I will be living with for the next year. And lastly and most frustratingly, it is because I've not been able to get a single good night's rest because of the nightly bongo drumming crowds that gather just outside my window in Santo Spirito square on the steps of the Church of Santo Spirito. This goes on until 3 and 4 in the morning and it needs to stop soon if I'm going to get any work done.

 

A brief overview of my living situation and the program structure:

I live in an 16th century Palazzo that has been restored to house JMU's international program offices in Florence. There are computer labs, classrooms, a full kitchen, and seperate flats for faculty and the resident manager. The palazzo is known as "Palazzo Caponi" because of the family that used to own it--Caponi. 


There are 16 people in the program--4 guys and 12 girls. For the fall term all students are subject to the same curriculum and are in the same classes together. However, in the spring, each is allowed to choose a track that examines a specific area of EU policy. Then in the late spring in the early summer there is an opportunity for an internship here in Florence. There is also the option to complete a comprehensive research project. 


Now to the interesting stuff:


For the past three years of my life I have spent my days surrounded by people who were either 15 years older than me or 15 years younger than me (teaching, working at a church). It's taught me a lot about people, young and old. I've learned to spot great people when I see them. I have also learned to identify and manage some difficult personalities as well. All this being said, I feel incredibly lucky that I now find myself surrounded by 15 great personalities. Instead of managing personalities, I am able to enjoy them. Finally, a break from managerial responsibilities!


But there is a different challenge now--one that I've dealt with in the past but in a much less intensive setting. Whereas earning undergraduate degrees in the U.S. today is much about self exploration and greasing the rails to affluence, graduate school requires you to pour yourself into your work. I'm not saying that college wasn't a worthwhile experience. I'm just suggesting that it was a much easier and carefree one. 


We have approximately 800 pages of reading and 12 hours of classes a week. If I'm not eating, running, sleeping, or in class, I'm going to be reading. I look forward to when the bongo drums stop so that I can finally get into a routine. 


Why I'm here:


Seven years ago today I was freshman at JMU. On this very morning while walking back from class I remember encountering a car that had a piece of poster board taped to the side window that read,


    "EXPELL ALL MUSLIMS NOW!!!!!"


At this point I knew that something was seriously wrong. I had heard whispers of conversation about a plane hitting the World Trade Center on the way to class, but hadn't been able to check any news. When I got back into my dorm room I saw the images that we are now all too familiar with. 


In my last post I talked some about the tension between image and narrative. Today I invite you to consider the extreme tension between the images from 9/11 and the ensuing narrative. I'm reminded of a song that became popular shortly after the tragedy--"Have You Forgotten?" by country artist Darryl Worley. This is an overtly jingoistic song that suggests that our personal connections to 9/11 (where we you?) and the images of destruction themselves are worthy impetuses for American unilateralism and the war in Iraq. The message here is "fall in line." This typifies the hyper-nationalist response to September 11th, 2001 that was popular in America. 


But are we really dealing with the images if we react this way? Doesn't this song and the popular response rely upon the use of binaries to make sense out of what happened? (See op-ed piece from this post). Isn't it a vast oversimplification to suggest that on 9/11,
     
 "America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and      
   
  opportunity around the world. "
  
         sic, President George W. Bush to the Nation, 9/11/2001

????


I believe America has yet to deal with the images of devastation from 9/11 circumspectively. While embracing a narrative that ennobles our roles as victims of atrocity, we have been unwilling to come to terms with our impact on the globalizing world on economic, political, religious, and social levels. We continue to cling to the myth of American exceptionalism--a myth that I believe is the source of the tension between images of destruction from 9/11 and the popular narrative of American infallibility and invincibility. 



Perhaps what we're really dealing in America is an identity crisis. Because the world is so complicated to us now, we cling to familiar (but outdated) images of American identity.For instance, why do many southerners still hold strongly to a flag that represents a nation that no longer exists? Perhaps this is why Conservatism has become so popular in America--because of an unwillingness to reach an objective understanding of what America actually looks like in the midst of competing national, international, and global narratives. We can't look forward clearly for looking backwards towards a mythical era of American prosperity, dominance, and exceptionalism. We can't get back into The Garden people, and we can't recreate it either. 


So now I believe that it is an issue of perspective. I feel strongly that in order rebuild American identity in the face of the many global challenges we are facing, we must look outwards and begin to examine our great country from as many perspectives as possible. While faithfully chasing an ideal of what America can be, we must fearlessly confront the reality of what America already is.


So, it is my faith that has led me here to Florence, Italy where I will humbly begin to deal with some of the tough questions about American identity that I posed above. 


Stay tuned. This one should be a fun ride. I know I'm certainly going to have a blast.  


--Paul


PS--The Sarah Palin narrative is another example of The Right's preference for popular yet empty narratives. I get that she's a good idea for the GOP in the election, but if John McCain truly had the safety of America at heart, would he put this woman second in line to the most powerful position in the world? It's like a bad disney movie.....

I assume that there are contingency plans for a puppet presidency. The Right has demonstrated over the past 8 years that they are all too comfortable with this dynamic. 


PSS-- Barack Obama is a Jedi. 

  "We are the strongest nation in the world today, [but] I do not believe we should ever apply that economic, political, or military power unilaterally. If we'd followed that rule in Vietnam, we wouldn't have been there. None of our allies supported us. If we can't persuade nations with comparable values of the merit of our cause, we'd better re-examine our reasoning."

        Former Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara (Kennedy, Johnson)
        quoted from The Fog of War (Film) by Errol Morris, 2003