It was announced that Bob Dylan won the nobel prize in literature. Immediately much discussion sprung up, and many people were in joy. I'm a bit entauscht, and I have a feeling as if there should be another announcement for the prize for proper literature.
Not that I'm against Dylan: I sometimes enjoy his music, and surely his lyrics are an integral part of his performance. It is rich, interesting, entertaining, emotionally sophisticated, at times political. Still, if read it is not outstanding poetry, compared with many who have not been deemed worthy a Nobel.
My gut feeling tells me that what we have to do with in this case is a PR act to put the Nobel prize in literature on the map for younger folks, as well as less 'high literature' oriented folks, and brand it as a relevant Prize, one which they should pay attention too. I'm always dubious of such motives: I know that we live in an era where we have to compete with all the low and high quality well advertised products churned out by huge companies spending tons of money on getting their stuff to us. Still, the Nobel is what it is: a high mesaure of excellence, be that excellence in enriching cultural memory and understanding, a trailblaizing experimental style, or a masterly literary achievement. Dylan's - written - work is certainly none of these. Giving the prize to him is especially harsh a year after it was awarded to Svetlana Alexievich.
Alexievich is an excellent writer, has focused on events of the 20th century in much of her work which have altered the lives of countless people - Chernobyl, the Afghan war of Russia, etc. - and does that in a way that she makes our memories and understanding of these events much more sophisticated and complex, hence, much more close to the truth.
However, literature surely also has the role to entertain. Anyone denying this would be a fool and with no understanding either of the history or the role of reaidng, books, printing, and literature as such. So, Dylan it is. I'm sure his work will receive much attention for the next months. His fans will be happy about the news, people who weren't fans might give it a try with a new openness and appreciativeness, and even those who never heard of him or never liked him might recognize something valuable in his work after listening to it again (or for the first time).
Showing posts with label contemporary literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemporary literature. Show all posts
Friday, 14 October 2016
Friday, 29 April 2016
The Shepherd's Life
The Shepherd's Life has been a hit book in Britain. James Rebanks wrote an interesting and compelling account both of what it is like to be a shepherd, and of why it is okay to choose to continue a tradition. Rebanks isn't into high level politics. He is into the very personal and moral sphere of life, the sphere in which we seek our happiness, fulfillment, our calling, and try to construct a life that has meaning and value for us, and for others. And he is very good at this, even remarkably so.
There are many debates in contemporary philosophy concerning values, meaning, the good, and the meaning of life. I think Rebanks's position is closest to those who claim that value is created, not found. Reading his account of how natural it was for him to continue what his grandfather and father have been doing reminded me of Samuel Scheffler's book Death and the Afterlife, in which Scheffler argued that many of our standard activities - work, learning, healing, saving, and building houses for example - only make sense because we believe that others will engage in the same ways of life which we live and value, and imagine to go on. In a sense of course Scheffler's point is obvious: how could we imagine what it will be like to live in, for example the EU or India in 200 years? Naturally, we imagine that despite all the inevitable technological, political, economical, and fashion-related changes there will be core elements of life such as the ways families live (together or separately, close or far, etc.) or the way we treat individuals (with respect, with demands, with empathy, etc.) which will be similar to ours.
Rebanks makes a good case for the position that it is possible and should be seen as a respectable option to say no to the current ideal of striving for a career in management, finance, business, law or something else that earns big money and is done in a busy city. The alternative he highlights is that of carrying on with something that is working, keeping things going, and adopting to changes when that is important, without discarding a whole way of life just because other options seem to be easier or more lucrative at the moment.
As someone who is/has making/made the attempt to become the first academic in my family, and doing so in the UK, not in my home country, not somewhere where my own language is spoken, away from my family and childhood friends, this message awakes interest. Maybe I should have taken on the low salaries at a Hungarian university - way below EU average and even more below UK average - and struggled with paying the rent but fulfilled a role in that society? On the other hand I know that the answer is clearly no. The option that Rebanks depicts is only open as long as one has a comfortable enough life to go on. Being a shepherd comes across as fantastic. And it must be. It must also be rewarding, and hard work. It also has a function and it is valuable. But such choices are only viable as long as they provide the basics. When the shepherd's life will change to be more like the miner's in the UK, no one will write books like this anymore.
This is not to say that Rebanks isn't right. As long as the option of living such a life is a meaningful - and not a harmful - option, it should be fine for people to resist the pressure of uniform careers and dreams. Still, this can't be done when need and poverty kick in. It can't be done in 90% of the world right now. Hence I'm of two minds about the book. I applaud the sentiment and there is a message with which I heartily agree. On the other hand, I think everyone reading the book has to be careful not to mistake it for an argument for going back to old professions or to stay where she is at. We should consider keeping traditions going as long as they provide lives worth living for us and our communities, but not beyond that. We need to be able to put up with change when we have to. Hence, the book should be considered as a particular story about a group of shepherd's in one region of the UK, and nothing more.
Just a minor update at the end: Some people might read my review and not recognize the book they've read or get the impression that The Shepherd's Life is a philosophy book. It is not. It is a lucidly written, entertaining, emotional, informative and imaginative journey through the family life, community, work, and landscape that frame shepherding. And of course there are the sheep and the herding dogs. Lovely stories, great characters, all written in an easy to follow and pleasant way. I warmly recommend it.
There are many debates in contemporary philosophy concerning values, meaning, the good, and the meaning of life. I think Rebanks's position is closest to those who claim that value is created, not found. Reading his account of how natural it was for him to continue what his grandfather and father have been doing reminded me of Samuel Scheffler's book Death and the Afterlife, in which Scheffler argued that many of our standard activities - work, learning, healing, saving, and building houses for example - only make sense because we believe that others will engage in the same ways of life which we live and value, and imagine to go on. In a sense of course Scheffler's point is obvious: how could we imagine what it will be like to live in, for example the EU or India in 200 years? Naturally, we imagine that despite all the inevitable technological, political, economical, and fashion-related changes there will be core elements of life such as the ways families live (together or separately, close or far, etc.) or the way we treat individuals (with respect, with demands, with empathy, etc.) which will be similar to ours.
Rebanks makes a good case for the position that it is possible and should be seen as a respectable option to say no to the current ideal of striving for a career in management, finance, business, law or something else that earns big money and is done in a busy city. The alternative he highlights is that of carrying on with something that is working, keeping things going, and adopting to changes when that is important, without discarding a whole way of life just because other options seem to be easier or more lucrative at the moment.
As someone who is/has making/made the attempt to become the first academic in my family, and doing so in the UK, not in my home country, not somewhere where my own language is spoken, away from my family and childhood friends, this message awakes interest. Maybe I should have taken on the low salaries at a Hungarian university - way below EU average and even more below UK average - and struggled with paying the rent but fulfilled a role in that society? On the other hand I know that the answer is clearly no. The option that Rebanks depicts is only open as long as one has a comfortable enough life to go on. Being a shepherd comes across as fantastic. And it must be. It must also be rewarding, and hard work. It also has a function and it is valuable. But such choices are only viable as long as they provide the basics. When the shepherd's life will change to be more like the miner's in the UK, no one will write books like this anymore.
This is not to say that Rebanks isn't right. As long as the option of living such a life is a meaningful - and not a harmful - option, it should be fine for people to resist the pressure of uniform careers and dreams. Still, this can't be done when need and poverty kick in. It can't be done in 90% of the world right now. Hence I'm of two minds about the book. I applaud the sentiment and there is a message with which I heartily agree. On the other hand, I think everyone reading the book has to be careful not to mistake it for an argument for going back to old professions or to stay where she is at. We should consider keeping traditions going as long as they provide lives worth living for us and our communities, but not beyond that. We need to be able to put up with change when we have to. Hence, the book should be considered as a particular story about a group of shepherd's in one region of the UK, and nothing more.
Just a minor update at the end: Some people might read my review and not recognize the book they've read or get the impression that The Shepherd's Life is a philosophy book. It is not. It is a lucidly written, entertaining, emotional, informative and imaginative journey through the family life, community, work, and landscape that frame shepherding. And of course there are the sheep and the herding dogs. Lovely stories, great characters, all written in an easy to follow and pleasant way. I warmly recommend it.
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