Thoughts on Satire

In February This American Life aired an episode that included a fascinating peek into the writers room for The Onion (it can be streamed for free or downloaded for a buck here).  The way they parse the jokes made me so geekily jealous.  I do a fair amount of joke-parsing myself, and sometimes get it wrong when I post regularly on the “blog”.  I even started a twitter account because I wanted to see how often I could be clever in less than 140 characters (hit and miss).

Meanwhile, I can’t stop writing mediocre papers for classes about satire and irony.  Is satire persuasive?  Is irony always cruel?  Bakhtin on laughter has been really helpful in this regard, I think I’ll come back to it later, but these questions fascinate me.

Since I’m in love with serious talk about hilarity, I’m both crazy about and perplexed by the recent discussion about humor in the presidential campaign.  The controversial New Yorker cover spurned quite a bit of discussion about what kinds of jokes, if any, are acceptable to make about Obama.  My favorite is Andy Borowitz’s list of acceptable jokes, including this one: “A horse walks into a bar. The bartender says, ‘Why the long face?’ Barack Obama replies, ‘His jockey just lost his health insurance, which should be the right of all Americans.’”

There also has been some discussion with differing levels of condescending about whether everyone will get the joke.  And, indeed, a recent pew survey found that 12% of Americans do think Obama is a muslim – they lack the shared sense of reality that is necessary to get the joke.

This leads me to my complaint about satire as a way to make arguments.  If your audience does not already agree with you, not only is satire unpersuasive, it goes right over the audience’s head.  Making fun of people is not the best way to make them come around to your side.  It is a good way to move undecided’s or energize those who agree with you, but that’s it.  

Of course, this isn’t quite that clean and easy (see Larknews or A Prairie Home Companion for a good example of people laughing at their own foibles) but I think it’s something we should be careful of.  Also, Cara Finnegan makes a good point that in the case of the New Yorker cover, the subject of the satire isn’t included in the image itself.  Moreover, the image bothers me because it helps keep these kinds of imaginings about the Obamas in circulation, adding to the general feeling of otherness that is being attached to them, which will affect undecided voters who go with their gut feeling on election day.

In other words, I love a good satire, but I didn’t think this was a particularly well-executed joke.  But the excessive coverage of it (my own blog now is complicit in this I suppose) is way more damaging than the cover image itself.

Faith and Suffering

As part of my grant research I’m looking for ways to frame an analysis of talk about religious practices and health/illness. This morning I read the introduction to Faith in the Great Physician by historian Heather Curtis (reviewed in Books and Culture by Lauren Winner here).

Reading the intro to this book (and Winner’s review of it) brought to my attention the possibility that there might be more than one view of the role of God and faith in illness. In the interviews I analyze (conducted in 2006) we asked the participants if they thought religious practices like prayer or healing services could help prevent or heal an illness like heart disease, diabetes or depression. The answers ranged, but I don’t recall anyone suggesting that illness was a special gift or test and that suffering was in any way spiritual. Neither do I believe that this is a common conception in the contemporary church. However, Curtis describes the culture of the mid-19^th century in America where this idea was dominant, especially for women.

Winner summarizes, “Sick people, in particular female invalids, believed that their sickness was God's will, and the most faithful response was humble submission. Women who patiently bore illness that kept them confined to bed for decades were understood as "spiritual virtuosos," who were often blessed by God with special visions that would sustain them through their trials. Their very bodies, passively propped up on pillows, were tokens of faith in the sufficiency of God's grace.”

Perhaps it is my 21^st century sensibility that finds this perspective troublesome, and clearly tied up in sexist understandings of female virtue. I wouldn’t suggest we go back to this view, especially in light of the abilities of modern medicine to relieve suffering. However, the very availability of another possibility leads us to evaluate the problems of the current religious attitude toward illness.

Curtis writes at the end of her introduction, “divine healing had a dark side too: in addition to enabling individuals to overcome debilitating diseases, faith cure suggested that sick persons were somehow responsible for their condition and therefore suspect. Rather than risk God’s reputation or their own, many chose to suffer their pain silently or hide it all together.”

This reaction – that those who aren’t healed might not have enough faith – seems especially prominent in discussion of mental illness like depression. In Jane Kenyon’s poem cycle about depression, “Having it Out With Melancholy,” the most haunting poem is titled “suggestion from a friend” and simply says “You wouldn’t be so depressed/ if you really believed in God.” This attitude is clearly the danger that our Christian culture struggles with when we over-emphasize divine healing.

Knowing that the cultural attitude toward faith and suffering changed so dramatically in the 19^th century, though, gives us hope for the future. Perhaps another view of the relationship between our faith and our bodies and the problems of our bodies is possible. Perhaps we can develop a way to think about the body, mental illness, and God’s power to heal that avoids punishing those who already suffer, but still looks for healing.

Desert Island Discs: Eveningland

I guess it was about 2 summers ago that my friend Leslie and I went to see Over the Rhine in Altanta.  I’ve seen Over the Rhine live quite a few times, and they were fabulous that night, as usual.  But I was really blown away by the band they were co-headlining with: Hem.  I bought one of their albums, Eveningland, that night.  It was a hard choice even then between Eveningland and Rabbit Songs, since both have such lovely interesting songs on them.   I’ve since acquired all their records, but I think I made the right choice that night – Eveningland just barely edges out Rabbit Songs and Funnel Cloud for the distinct honor of my next Desert Island Selection.

All the elements of Hem’s aesthetic fit together well.  Sally Ellison’s warm voice (and the lovely vocal harmony they use frequently), the delicate orchestration (heavy on strings and piano) and the evocative heart-wrenching lyrics.  You might recognize them without knowing it, since their songs “Half-Acre” and “The Part Where You Let Go” have been featured on commercials for Liberty Mutual.  When I saw them, their instrumentation was: piano, guitar, string bass, pedal steel.  I know.  I fell in love immediately.

I think “Lucky” is one of the prettiest love songs I’ve encountered (and I’ve heard a lot of love songs).  Read this chorus:

If I should loose
I’ll wake up feeling lucky
if I should take a fall
 or throw it all away
I wouldn’t mind lying beside you
the rest of my days.

I love the way “Redwing” sounds like it’s soaring, and I love the line “circling like sparrows”.   I believe “Pacific Street” is a song about when the members of the band met each other, but to me it’s about old friends, and remembering good times even if things have changed,  “because leaving things is just too hard for me.”  It about wrecks me every time.

And they have this great slow cover of “Jackson” on this album too.  Which means that not only is it a fabulous album in its own right, but also includes another of my favorite things: covers that are significantly different from the original.

Most of their songs have that sense of affection and longing.  And have I mentioned the gorgeous arrangements?  Because they are gorgeous.   It’s a great album for a quiet morning or evening (maybe more evening, hence the name) with tea or a glass of wine and a book.  Or if you’re me and will listen to gentle, slow-tempo stuff anytime, then anytime.

Past Reviews:

1000 Kisses
Sixpence None the Richer
Transatlanticism
Neon Bible
Details
Why Should the Fire Die
Achtung Baby
Ohio

Elitism and Popularity

I was interested in this New York Times article that mentions some of my concerns about the latest rash of anti-intellectualism in the public sphere.

Writer Susan Jacoby asks why “elitist” and “elite opinion” have become such negative terms in today’s political scene.  At its most absurd, Senator Hillary Clinton suggested that the unanimous opinion of economists was not to be trusted because it was “elite”.  I agree with Jacoby that there is a difference between populism that respects the abilities of all people and a rejection of expertise of achievement.  Indeed, the populism that I would encourage wants an educated population, where everyone can have an informed opinion about matters that affect us all.  Instead, it appears, “elitism” is any suggestion that people as citizens or as leaders should be expected to do or know more.

One interesting note, it seems that the opposite attitude is at work when it comes to issues of national security.  While it is “elitist” to trust economists on the subject of the economy, in the case of the war, we are expected to trust the judgment of the president and General Petraeus without question.  They are the experts; they have all the information.  Perhaps this attitude is deployed so effectively (at least until recently) by the Bush administration because the president is portrayed as so everyday in other situations.  

The cries against elitism are not necessarily a rejection of special knowledge, then, but against a certain segment of society – educated progressives who may have behaved too condescendingly throughout history, creating a negative reaction among others.  Perhaps to fix this problem, elites need better PR to consistently present themselves as relatable and trustworthy, instead of snobby and condescending.  I wonder if Al Gore’s public image today compared to in the  run-up to the 2000 election might be instructive in this respect.

In Defense of The Girls Next Door

Jim makes fun of me for loving The Girls Next Door.  Actually, everyone does.  But I don’t mind, I’m a bit embarrassed about my love for the show, in fact.  But I’m going to explain why I love it.  I recently read this Elle article that has a similar perspective.

Allow me to explain. First of all, I understand that Playboy is all about women as sex objects, and celebrates a particular kind of beauty (blonde, huge fake boobs, tiny waist, etc – so Barbie).  The male gaze is how plaboy makes its money – a male fantasy of these idealized women who are always available.  That’s what the mansion and the clubs are all about.  But here’s the thing: in the show, the men never show up.  Hef is so old and, well, relational that you don’t feel that these women are objects to him.  You don’t even think of their relationship with him as sexual even though it likely is (although maybe not, the guy is OLD).

Instead, the world we see on the show is pure escapism.  It has so little to do with my real life, and that’s why I like to watch it.  I watch tv to escape.  Holly, Bridget and Kendra live this ridiculous life where they hang out with each other and with other women, they have little projects and trips and adventures, and they never worry about things like money or responsibilities.  It’s like girl’s night out, except it’s their whole life, and everyone is beautiful.  But you aren’t really invited to evaluate the women so much as it’s just taken for granted that everyone is that specific kind of beautiful.  Sure, now that I think about it, it’s troubling, but my point is it’s never foregrounded.  And isn’t all tv that way anyway?

There’s also some kind of old-femininity power in Holly – she gets her way by scheming and batting her eyes, but she does it in an unapologetic but also self-aware way.  It’s kind of endearing.  And they way that Bridget is always upbeat and happy and finds ways to advance her future entertainment career is quite savvy.  Not that I’m claiming it’s a feminist show, of course it isn’t.  But it’s good fun for some girls trying to unwind after a long day of thinking hard.  And I like it.  And now you know why.

Bakhtin for Worship Leaders: Ideological Becoming

I recently posted about Bakhtin’s idea of the living word as a useful concept for worship leaders.  Another concept that I think is helpful for understanding the Bible as both flexible and unchanging is Ideological becoming.

The idea of ideological becoming has to do with the ways a person combines available discourses to determine the ideologies they identify with.  Bakhtin is similar to other theorists, who assume that individuals assemble pieces of various discourses to construct their own identity.  To help understand this concept, Bakhtin talks about two different kinds of discourses: authoritative and internally persuasive.

Authoritative discourse refers to reified texts that carry with them the weight of history and authority. “The authoritative word is located in a distanced zone, organically connected with a past that is felt to be hierarchically higher.  It is, so to speak, the word of the fathers” (Discourses p. 342).  This is especially applicable to religious texts like the Bible, whose authority is especially unquestioned in the context of the church.  While this authority gives a text advantages, it also creates a desire for rebellion.  Authoritative texts feel distant and irrelevant, or heavy-handed.  This poses a significant challenge for those hoping to breathe life into authoritative texts.

Internally persuasive discourse is one that an individual accepts into the play of their own identity and with other texts; they become a part of the becoming of a person.  Bakhtin writes, “Its creativity and productiveness consist precisely in the fact that such a word awakens new and independent words, that it organizes masses of our words from within, and does not remain in an isolated and static condition” (Discourses p. 345).  This kind of engagement might release a biblical text or old liturgy from interaction with it as a stagnant, static authoritative text.  What makes a text internally persuasive is its ability to invoke a response (“new and independent words”) and engage with other words.

This is where it becomes important that Bakhtin doesn’t think of these categories as mutually exclusive.  “Both the authority and the internal persuasiveness of discourse may be united in a single word – one that is simultaneously authoritative and internally persuasive” (Discourses, p. 342).  How do we make our worship one that is simultaneously authoritative and internally persuasive?

I think one way is by offering an opportunity for individuals to produce “independent words” in response to the older, authoritative words that might be presented.  For example, churches offer opportunities for congregation members to present their own art or writing in church, or to create art or writing during the service itself.  These active responses allow the words of scripture to become part of us, in dialogue with our own words, and becoming our own words.  As part of our ideological becoming.

Bakhtin for Worship Leaders: The Living Word

This semester I took a course in the language theory of Mikhail Bakhtin.  It was a great class, and there were several points in the class when I thought the things I was reading would work beautifully with theology.  Of course, Bakhtin was living in Soviet Russia, so he rarely references Christianity explicitly, except to talk about the authoritative voice or about “mythical Adam”.  However, I find his theory of language really compelling, and useful for thinking about the ways we interact with the biblical text as an utterance or set of utterances.

I didn’t have time in the semester to reflect on this blog, but now that I have a little space, I want to start articulating and sharing some of those ideas.  So this first post is about Bakhtin’s concept of the Word as a Living thing.

I find this concept especially easy to translate, since we are already accustomed to talking about the Bible as the Living Word of God.  Reading the term in Bakhtin, though, forced me to think about what it gets us to think about a word as alive.

First, for Bakhtin, a living word has its own character and history.  In his words, language cannot be understood as unitary unless it is isolated “from the uninterrupted process of historical becoming that is a characteristic of all living language” (The Dialogic Imagination, p. 288).  This means not only that the meaning of language changes over time, but also that the history of a word matters for its meaning today – that the meanings it has had in the past colors its present meaning.

When this concept is applied to the words at work in the church, it seems especially relevant, as the biblical text is thousands of years old, and many liturgical elements have been used for hundreds of years or more.  The historical and geographical reach of these texts means that there are a wide range of meanings that the stories and words have gathered over those various contexts.  These words carry a weight of meanings that give them richness, but also threaten to hold us down.

Second, a living word is not just a conduit in communication, but an actor.  Words impose their own meanings, histories and intents on a situation.  Bakhtin writes “the strong point of any concrete listener becomes a self-sufficient focus of attention, and one that interferes with the word’s creative work on its referent” (The Dialogic Imagination, p. 282).  In this passage not only does the word do work, but that work is interfered with on the part of a listener – the word is an interloper between speaker and listener, imposing it’s own will on meaning (or referent) that must be compensated for by a strong listener. This then requires extra vigilance on the part of a reader, both to read a text with good intentions, and to listen to others with a spirit of cooperation.

What does it mean if we take the idea of the biblical text as a Living Word seriously?  If we assume that it has actions and intentions separate from and sometimes at odds with those of a writer or reader.  Should we be concerned with the desires of the Word, or of its divine inspirer?  What would it mean to see our reading of the bible as the Word’s creative work?  How is our understanding constrained and enhanced by the history of the words in our translations?

movie families

Sometimes to unwind, Jamie and I watch of movies of varying quality.  Don't judge; most of them are on TV, so we don't pay for them.  However, we have observed some disturbing trends.  The following movies that we have seen recently contain a family game of touch/tackle football:

Dan in Real Life

The Wedding Crashers

Just Married

The following movies that we have seen recently contain a scene where a family bursts into spontaneous song with piano accompaniment:

Must Love Dogs

Dan in Real Life

And more we can’t remember.

Ok, Jamie’s family is athletic, and they never play family football.  They occasionally go sledding and take walks.  My family is musical, but we do not hold spontaneous sing-alongs.  Sure, people burst into song frequently, but we don’t ALL join in.  Occasionally a rehearsal for a church song will end with a jam session.

So the question at hand is this: whose families do these things, and why are they always in movies?  The football thing mostly seems to be a useful plot device to play out sexual tension or a character’s unathleticism.  The music thing is a good chance to demonstrate how good of singers the cast are.  But seriously.  Who does these things?

Also, readers are encouraged to beef up these lists to improve the "trend" argument.

Inequity in Michigan

I was really upset when Jim alerted me to a recent ruling by the Michigan Supreme Court. The ruling interpreted the gay marriage ban that passed in 2004 (which I voted against) to also mean that benefits for gay partners in state-run institutions is also illegal. This is especially hurtful to state universities, who will likely lose top scholars who can get partner benefits in other states.

Regardless of how you feel about the sin-status of gay sex, I think we can all agree that humans deserve to be treated as such. It would be absurd if we ostracized and financially punished individuals in our society for other activites that are prohibited more explicitly and strongly in the Bible. But instead we often have usurers, gluttons and adulterers in civic and religious leadership roles. This is a clear case of discrimination that in the future we will see as repugnant as Jim Crow.

This is an issue of human rights and fairness, and it's embarrassing that in 2008 our society is moving backward instead of toward equality. I urge readers of this blog who still reside in Michigan to take a stand against this injustice.

edit: more discussion on feministing.

Desert Island Discs: 1000 Kisses

I’m done writing for the semester, and just in time. The Desert Island thing is coming back into style. Matt just posted a bunch all at once, and Blake has been talking a big game like he’s going to join in. (Speaking of people who talk a big game, I think Morgan should post another one soon too.)

I came a little late to the Patty Griffin party. Some of my friends were totally pumped to see her play Calvin my first year (I was pumped for the opener: Over the Rhine) but she blew me away, and I bought her then new album 1000 Kisses. It’s ten tracks of beautiful, kids. I’ve been variously obsessed with “Mil Besos,” “Tomorrow Night,” “Rain” and “Making Pies” but to be honest, whenever any of the tracks comes up in Party Shuffle I’m likely to go “I love this song!” And it will be true

Here are some reasons why Patty, and this album, are awesome: Patty’s voice is wrenching, warm and honest. The instrumentation is rootsy, warm and spacious. The writing is lovely – emotional and evocative, but broad enough that you can feel like you relate to it in a variety of situations. For example, “I'm not looking for the rest of your life/ I just want another chance to live” or “I wish you could see the way I see me in my dreams/ the way I laugh there way up high/ the way I look when I fly/ the way I laugh the way I fly.” Other songs, like “Chief” and “Makin’ Pies” draw us into a character with a story. I didn’t know until recently that “Tomorrow Night” was a cover, and had been recorded by Elvis (I know, that’s probably heretical) but I just listened to Elvis’ version on YouTube and Patty’s is better.

This is a good album for a rainstorm, a car trip or an afternoon of reading. Or any other time, really. You should listen to it.

Past Reviews:

Sixpence None the Richer
Transatlanticism
Neon Bible
Details
Why Should the Fire Die
Achtung Baby
Ohio