‘Godthink’

Thursday, April 29th, 2010

Time to pop a well-meaning bubble: All religions are basically the same. Stephen Pothero calls this “naive theological groupthink – call it Godthink –” perpetrated by everyone from Oprah Winfrey to Karen Armstrong to Elizabeth Gilbert to the Dalai Lama. He says it is a fantasy, specifically, “to imagine that the world’s two largest religions are in any meaningful sense the same, or that interfaith dialogue between Christians and Muslims will magically bridge the gap.”

Prothero is puzzled. “No one argues that different economic systems or political regimes are one and the same. Capitalism and socialism are so self-evidently at odds that their differences hardly bear mentioning. The same goes for democracy and monarchy. Yet scholars continue to claim that religious rivals such as Hinduism and Islam, Judaism and Christianity are, by some miracle of the imagination, both essentially the same and basically good.”

He finds one thing in common. “What the world’s religions share is not so much a finish line as a starting point. And where they begin is with this simple observation: Something is wrong with the world.”

He works on a metaphor: “Different sports have different goals: Basketball players shoot baskets; tennis players win points; golfers sink putts. To criticize a basketball team for failing to score runs is not to besmirch them. It is simply to misunderstand the game of basketball.”

The full piece is in the Boston Globe. Stephen Prothero is a religion professor at Boston University and the author of the new book “God Is Not One.”

Home again in Chinatown

Monday, April 26th, 2010

shanghaigirls_coverBestselling author Lisa See will present her new novel, Shanghai Girls, at the Library, Wednesday, April 29 at 19h30. Today she shares an essay that originally appeared in the Los Angeles Times, about the relationship between Los Angeles’s Chinatown and her book.

Almost all writers write about place. Los Angeles writers are no exception. Walter Mosley, Michael Jaime-Becerra and Janet Fitch, to name a few, capture the intimate details of very specific neighborhoods. Sometimes the sense of place is so strong that the natural topography, the streets and what’s on them, become as fully realized as a living, breathing character. The neighborhood I write about is Chinatown. Yes, a lot of my novels take place in China, but those stories wouldn’t — couldn’t — have been written if not for Chinatown.

I lived with my mother, Carolyn See, when I was growing up. We moved eight times before I turned 9, so Chinatown, where my paternal grandparents and my grandfather’s brothers and sister worked in the family antiques store, became home base for me. To my eyes, Chinatown didn’t change. More than that, my Chinese American relatives didn’t move or change either. Rather, they were very much stuck in the past. It was a past that entranced me when I was a child; it’s a past I long for every day, and one I got to write about in “Shanghai Girls.”

Read the rest of this entry »

Great moments in art

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

Really, really bad cover artWest-of-January for science fiction books, lovingly collected for your perusal, admiration, and ridicule.

The peculiar generation

Sunday, April 25th, 2010

Those Americans born from the late 1930s to the mid-1940s, the pre-Boomers, have never had a “generation” to call their own. Richard Pells mourns this oversight and stoutly stands to defend them in The Chronicle Review. It’s a pity the very most important names he can summon are George Lucas, Bob Dylan, Dick Cheney, and Joe Biden.

A member of that same cohort, Joseph Epstein (b. 1937) is also feeling elegiac. In a long essay about the stages of life, and notably about the exit stage, Epstein (the cheerfully irascible author, essayist, and former editor of The American Scholar) looks back and takes stock in a rather summary essay in Notre Dame Magazine.

Where does Browser find things like that? In this case, from the amazing smorgasbord of interesting articles found by the tireless readers and aggregators at Arts & Letters Daily. Both Arts & Letters Daily and the Chronicle Review are offshoots or platforms or whatever of the outstanding industry newspaper, The Chronicle of Higher Education, which also publishes The Chronicle of Philanthropy.

Curious George: The war years

Saturday, April 24th, 2010

“It feels ridiculous to be thinking about children’s books.” wrote Hans A. Rey, co-creator of Curious George, in September 1939. He and his wife and co-author Margret Rey, German Jews newly arrived in France, had just fled Paris for the refuge of a château in southern France.  But they did, and created their peculiar monkey books in abundance. Edward Rothstein has a sweet recapitulation of their curious lives, and Curious George’s, in The New York Times, pegged to what sounds like a cool new Rey exhibit at the Jewish Museum in New York.

From Rushmore on down

Friday, April 23rd, 2010

Has the Library of America jumped the shark? When volumes on “Rushmore-sized” authors such as Melville, Twain, and Faulkner give way to volumes on H. P. Lovecraft, Philip K. Dick, and Dawn Powell, and then John Cheever, Raymond Carver, and Shirley Jackson, then it’s reasonable to ask if “the Library of America is running out of writers,” as Malcolm Jones bravely does in a recent Newsweek piece. “And all this happening, mind you, while LOA still had quite a few deceased mastodons left to corral—thanks to the intransigence of publishers and literary estates, there is as yet no LOA Ernest Hemingway, Marianne Moore, William Carlos Williams or T. S. Eliot.”

What say you? Who would you add to the list of the dead who warrant one of these beautiful volumes? Or the living? Here’s the complete list to date.

The American Library in Paris is delighted to receive many of these volumes from the Library of America, a nonprofit publishing foundation, and they circulate here nicely. The Library of America is also responsible for the striking author posters that adorn what few bare walls we have.

What would Gutenberg say?

Thursday, April 22nd, 2010

Kindle or iPad. Apple vs. Google vs. Amazon. Will publishing — and bookstores, and libraries — perish? The diligent Ken Auletta tries to sort it all out in The New Yorker.

New titles

Wednesday, April 21st, 2010

Here are a few of the newest books on our shelves, as recommended by Collections Librarian, Simon Gallo:

Greece: A Jewish History by K.E. Fleming — The first comprehensive, English-language history of Greek Jews and the only history that includes material on their diaspora in Israel and the United States.

Thelonius Monk: The Life and Times of an American Original by Robin D.G. Kelley — “Every step of Monk’s musical journey is teased out in meticulous detail, from his childhood lessons to his groundbreaking half-year run headlining at New York’s Five Spot, along with behind-the-scenes tories from recording sessions for classic albums like Brilliant Corners and Monk’s Music.” –Publishers Weekly

A Reader on Reading by Alberto Manguel — In this collection of essays, author, translator, and essayist Manguel argues that the activity of reading, in its broadest sense, defines our species. “Essays of this quality are worth reading, or rereading, wherever they are encountered.” –John Gross, New York Review of Books 

Reality Hunger: A Manifesto by David Shields — The author argues that our culture is obsessed with reality and issues a call for new literary and other art forms to match the complexities of the 21st century.

Find these and other new titles on the new nonfiction and fiction shelves at the Library.

Event cancelled — Wednesday, April 21

Tuesday, April 20th, 2010

volcano

Alas, we’ve been Eyjafjallajokull-ed. Due to the cat-ash-trophe caused by everyone’s favorite Icelandic volcano, our speaker, Peter Gibian, was unable to fly to Paris, and thus he won’t be in town to speak at the Library tomorrow night. His talk “John Singer Sargent’s Traveling Culture: Portraits of Expatriate Experience,” which was scheduled for Wednesday, April 21 at 19h30 has been cancelled. We hope to reschedule for another date soon.

Living out of a suitcase: Sargent’s expatriate experience

Monday, April 19th, 2010

JSS

Peter Gibian of McGill University will present his talk “John Singer Sargent’s Traveling Culture: Portraits of Expatriate Experience” at the Library on Wednesday, April 21 at 19h30.

Bons baisers de Montréal!

I’m really looking forward to discussing my favorite John Singer Sargent images, next Wednesday, in Paris—where Sargent got his major training, made his astonishing rise to prominence at the Salons, and did some of his best, most experimental work . . . until the great “scandale” of his 1884 “Madame X” painting sent him off to England where he settled for a long, more safe career centered on glittering society portraits. Those portraits open an evocative window into the now-bygone life of Gilded Age aristocrats, but I think Sargent is most intriguing and relevant today for his work in a very different vein: his prescient expression of the felt experience of the expatriate international traveler—not embedded in a closed, static world but always on the move between worlds—anticipating the new possibilities and also the problems of our own increasingly global, interdependent, inter-national, perhaps even post-national, lives.

For me, Sargent is a fascinating example of a seemingly paradoxical type: the Cosmopolitan American. (Is that an oxymoron? I will argue that it is not.) Born in Italy to American parents who had become nomadic international wanderers, schooled in a number of cities throughout Europe, and speaking multiple languages with native fluency, Sargent struck many who met him as “an accidental American,” or, even, as un-American—in fact dangerously lacking the solid ground of attachment to any nation, culture, language, or people. His family moved so often that they never bought furniture; and Sargent himself lived out of his suitcase in cramped hotel rooms for many days of his life as he traveled to an endless series of exotic locales in search of new subjects. The result? A strangely hybrid cultural identity that could make him seem a new sort of “cosmopolitan” figure—not at home everywhere but in fact homeless.

To begin to flesh out a sense of Sargent’s personal experience as a lifelong expatriate traveler, I want to look closely at a few of his most compelling early portraits of expatriate Americans and then turn to a series of resonant non-portrait works that Sargent produced in Brittany, Venice, Spain, Capri, and North Africa, exploring his response to the local workers and artisans he encountered in his international wanderings. And I’m looking forward to hearing your responses, over “refreshments,” at the ALP next Wednesday!

–Peter Gibian