09 June 2023

How Writing Changed Us: Orality and Literacy by Walter Ong (1982)

Walter Ong. Orality and Literacy (1982) A careful survey of the state of orality studies, or better, the study of spoken language. Since the 80s, the field has proliferated, with increasing emphasis on how we generate speech in different contexts. That spoken and written language were different was obvious. What was less obvious was that the written language was not the superior mode. In fact, spoken language, exhibiting as it does the vagaries of regional and class dialects, was often deprecated as a primitive and even degraded form of the proper language as recorded in writing.
      Ong does not attack this attitude directly, but shows that an oral culture uses language differently than a literate one. He’s concerned that literate readers of the earliest writings aren’t aware enough that these are records of oral compositions, and hence of oral modes. He does a wonderful job of describing and explaining how people without writing construct(ed) their songs, stories and orations using standard tropes and repetitive patterns as scaffolds for building the performance in real time, and certainly each time adapted to whatever audience listened to them. What Homer memorised was not an unbroken stream of thousands of lines of verse, but pieces of the story, which (he) would select, adapt, and reconstruct. Ong’s evidence is both field work by anthropologists who recorded the myths and histories of non-literate peoples, and also the bits of speech embedded in the epics as recorded.
     Ong (and his fellow scholars) go a step or two further. They claim that literacy changes the way we understand the world. What’s written is read, not heard. The text takes precedence over the writer, and eventually become detached from the writer. When we read old books, we read them as independent and objective witnesses to the past, often not realising how much we reconstruct a text, any text, as we read it. Hence the mistaken belief that we can understand the “literal meaning” of a text.  In an oral culture, speech and speaker are one: the story exists only while it is being spoken, and the relation between the audience and the speaker’s utterance is personal, immediate, and fleeting. A written text preserves what was though and understood generations before us. A speech exists only while it’s spoken, and memory of what the now dead ancestors thought and understood is reinterpreted every time it’s spoken. Written law can be consulted. Spoken law depends on trust in the speaker. Grasping the difference between the oral and the written may help us understand why so many of our present day conflicts are about what words signify. We tend to believe that if we understand the text we understand reality, and if we understand reality, we know the truth.
     I found the book heavy going at times, and have already begun to re-read it. Ong’s style is clear, and he has nice dry wit. His observations cast a new light on the effects of electronic media. The Wiki article on him adds a great deal to my comments.
     Recommended. ****

Borden Chantry, a typical Lamour Hero.

 Louis L’Amour. Borden Chantry (1977) L’Amour makes Westerns believable. He does this
by making his heroes human, often being a little obtuse, sometimes too stubborn for their own good, and several grades below super-hero skill-levels. Borden Chantry is an unwilling marshal, taking the job because a drought and poor prices forced him to suspend ranching. A dead man lies in the street. It looks like a bar fight gone wrong, and several townsfolk suggest further investigation isn’t needed. But no one knows the man, and the few clues to his former life suggest that no mere drunken brawl led to his death. So Chantry is left with a mystery. The town drunk, who may know more about the dead man, is killed, leaving his son an orphan. Chantry realizes that the killer has tried to hide his tracks and motivation. Chantry’s strong sense of duty leads him to risk his life in solving the puzzle. A nicely done short novel which would make a nice movie in the High Noon mode. A potboiler, but a very good one. ***

Wings Above Diamantina (Upfield, 1936)

 

 Arthur Upfield. Wings Above Diamantina (1936) Nettlefold, owner of Coolibah Station, and his daughter Elizabeth find a pretty red two-seater monoplane in the dry bottom of seasonal Emu Lake, the only flat piece of land in Emu Lake paddock. A comatose woman is trapped in the passenger seat. How she got there, why she has been drugged, and who tried to kill her by staging a plane crash are the questions that define Inspector Napoleon “Boney” Bonaparte’s) latest case. He finds the answers of course, and a case of true love not only thrives, it rescues a young man from the effects of what we now call PTSD. Well done in every way, a classic of its kind.
     The Boney novels would make a good TV series, but the dated racial attitudes and language would likely be edited out, thus losing the Ozzie ambience and historical accuracy that is part of their charm.
     Recommended ***

19 May 2023

A Dagger Through the Heart: Photo Finish (Ngaio Marsh)

Ngaio Marsh. Photo Finish (1980) The Diva La Sommita dies of a stab wound impaling an unflattering photo of her. Alleyn happens to be on site (a mansion newly built for her on an island in a New Zealand lake). Troy had been engaged to paint La Sommita's portrait. The house party had been invited to witness the world premiere of a (bad) opera written by La Sommita’s latest lover, a star-struck boy of some but insufficient talent. That, along with old loyalties and buried jealousies and resentments, as well as a series of unflattering photos published by a pseudonymous paparazzo, provide the necessary complications.
     A late entry in the Alleyn cycle, well plotted, characterised, and written. Marsh by this time was an old hand at confecting murder mysteries, and it shows. She allows herself room for miscellaneous satire and sharp social commentary. Average for her, which makes it above average for the genre. ***

Why Right and Left are (almost) indistingushiable.

  Martin Gardner. The New Ambidextrous Universe (rev. ed. 1990) A revised version of what  Gardner understood of physics in 1990. He acknowledges the book is outdated (evidence for the Higgs boson has since been found, for example), but it’s still a good overview of the Standard Model and its implications. The title refers to the arbitrariness of the terms Left and Right. Our usage is purely conventional. Without a face-to-face encounter, even a picture can’t define the convention, since one has to know it in order to reproduce the picture the right (!) way round. That would severely limit attempts to communicate with aliens. Left-right happens to be a necessary category of symmetry, without which theories of physics don't make sense.
    Gardner writes well and clearly, with a sly wit that sometimes breaks through his earnestness. One does need at least a high school knowledge of physics to grasp some of the explanations, but the central thesis is accessible to anyone.
     Oh, about "almost indistinguishable": I don't understand it, but it seems to have something to do with C-parity. Clarifications and corrections desired.
    Recommended ****

Fear and its effects (Laphams's Quarterly 10-3)


 Lapham’s Quarterly 10-3: Fear
(2017) Fear messes with one’s brain. Attempts at rational thought fail. Individually, we may panic, and fail to do what’s needed to avoid danger. Socially, we may turn on those we believe endanger us, and commit the most appalling cruelties. Politicians know this, and stoke fear in order to achieve power. Create an image of some danger, then present yourself as the only one that can and will defend against it, that’s a sure way to impose one’s will on others. This collection is heavy on the political, but includes phobias, superstitions, and fear as entertainment. The latter may help to inoculate against panic, but the data are ambiguous.
Another fine collection. ****

15 April 2023

Ozzie Murder: Upfield's Murder Down Under (1937)

 Arthur Upfield. Murder Down Under (1937) A station-owner’s car is found nose-down in a ditch next to the rabbit fence, with no trace of its driver. Detective Inspector Napoleon Bonaparte ('Bony') is detailed to masquerade as a rabbit inspector while investigating the disappearance. He listens to people talk, asking casual questions that prompt more conversation, until the pattern emerges. Bony’s focus on psychology gets him the information he needs. Passion and greed have combined to motivate murder.
     I like Upfield’s books. They have their weaknesses: his writing reminds me of The Boy’s Own Paper, but with a somewhat more adult understanding of human relationships. The clues are placed fairly, with few red herrings. Class tends to overwhelm character. A gentleman is polite, cultured, courageous, chivalrous, generously condescending to his social inferiors, skilled at solving problems but not an intellectual, and so on. Very much a B.O.P hero.
     Still, Upfield’s treatment of aboriginals is well ahead of his time. He reproduces their dialect, but they are not inferior to the white settlers. Upfield frequently makes a point of disapproving racial prejudice. Bony asks for help from whomever can supply it. He doesn’t like bureaucracy and red tape and official procedures, especially when they obstruct his investigation. Australian society of the 1920s suffered from the same class structure as Britain, and this too interferes with Bony’s work. The overall impression is that Upfield shares his hero's aversion to authority. The books are well done entertainments with a strong subtext of social criticism.

     Recommended. ***

When Things Go Bad (Saramago, The Live Of Things, 2012)

 Jose Saramago. The Lives of Things (2012) Saramago is a Nobel P:riz winner. I have mixed feelings about the Nobel Prize for Literature. By...