Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Corbyn: the Strange Rebirth of Radical Politics

This book, a study of Jeremy Corbyn's unexpected landslide victory of the Labour Party's leadership race and its implications by Richard Seymour, is a riveting and challenging read. I bought it as a Fathers' Day present for my dad, whose interest in politics has been stirred by the resurgence of the meaningful alternative to neoliberal hegemony that Corbyn provides and that is increasingly becoming a powerful force in British politics: I took it to a festival he was lined up to speak at but given certain events this week (BREXIT) he's been facing even stronger than usual criticisms, culminating in Labour MPs calling for this democratically-elected suppported-by-majority-of-party-members highly-principled man to step down, and so he pulled out.
   To be honest I'm too disgusted with the British public at the current news to bother writing much reflection about this book. I'm just going to briefly say what it's about then rant a lot.
   Seymour is a keen historian and commentator, and while his left-wing bias does show through it's clear that he's not an unthinking Corbynista - the book delves into some deep scrutiny of problems with Labour and with British politics in general that have been developing for decades, and which Jeremy Corbyn is uniquely poised to try to change (or, as currently looks more likely, to fall victim to). There are incredibly complex and well-rooted defence mechanisms of the conservative establishment in British society, supported by the anti-intellectual culture and non-proportionally-representative structure of our 'democracy': Richard Seymour does an excellent job of walking us through the last few decades of the Labour Party, its slow and deliberate killing-off of grassroots working-class support through New Labour, its desperation for electability-at-all-costs dragging it relentlessly to the right, these two factors robbing Labour leaders of the possibility of countering the status quo and promoting social justice by establishing clear narratives about what is wrong with our societies and economies. Corbyn has been hounded, ridiculed, aggressively targeted by the government, by corportate powers, by the mainstream media, by vast swathes of Middle Englanders, and by his own party. I fully recognise that his leadership style is not the slick presidential one of Blair or Cameron, his voting record is led so consistently by principle above the whip and so many in Parliament distrust his capacity for uniting the party, his ideology is distinctively one of democratic socialism which (given neoliberal hegemony) it is fashionable to say is dead these days. He doesn't wear expensive suits or show adequate respect to monarchs whom, to be fair, he doesn't believe should exist in the privileged aristocratic vacuum that they do. But the Labour Party has been dying slowly for years (hence why self-indulgent liberal lefties like me often lend support elsewhere) - maybe our current state of affairs is so royally messed up that the advocation of peace and equality truly is 'completely unelectable'; nevertheless he has the mandate of Labour's members, and for the party to have spent the year since his election trying their best to oust him one way or another is a disgrace and makes a shambolic mockery of the British political left. How can we have enough solidarity to make meaningful gains against the conservative establishment if we can't accept an (admittedly quite boring but by pretty much everyone's account very nice) imperfect leader and make the best of having him in that position? Corbyn's leadership should prompt opportunities to completely challenge and change the way we do politics: both reframing narratives about social and economic issues to re-engage working-class voters with the political system and help them understand policies that will actually benefit them, as well as reforming the manner in which political conversation is held in the public eye to make it kinder, less grounded in tribal rhetoric, appealing to reason and people's propensity for goodness rather than stimulating fear and division. We somehow find ourselves in a Britain in which people trust Eton-Oxbridge-educated professional defenders of the privileged elite telling them that what's best for them are policy sets that anyone with a scrap of economic literacy should be able to tell are thinly-disguised entrenchments of that very same elite privilege. Yet on that same austerity-swallowing Brexit-voting island, a gentle bearded man, who wears cardigans knitted by him mum to the House of Commons, who has spent his entire adult life campaigning for social justice, for the poor, against war and racism and discrimination of all kinds, is reviled as a national traitor because of the angle at which he bowed at a memorial.
   Anyway. My own furiously bubbling intent to emigrate aside, this book is an excellent insight into the problems facing our contemporary democratic system and the Labour Party's place in it, putting Jeremy Corbyn into a context in which he is shown for what he is: an opportunity for real tangible change. Maybe he won't win a general election, maybe he will - but with the support of the Party and its members he is the perfect leader to reshape the way in which British politics occurs, and shift its parameters to the left. This is something definitely achievable, and of urgent importance in our political climate, where the gap between rich and poor continues to grow and far-right sentiments boil into personifications like Nigel Farage who have contributed to a normalisation of xenophobia. Richard Seymour writes well and clearly, and at no point slips into either the empty utopian vision-spouting nor the empty dystopian scaremongering that books on party politics often do. He maintains balance and objectivity, showing Corbyn as a genuine figure of possibility and hope.

[If you're interested in these problems but can't be arsed to read a whole book, check out this, this, and this Guardian opinion pieces, or even better this and this blog post from Another Angry Voice.]

Sunday, 19 June 2016

the Cultural Impact of Kanye West

This book, a collection of essays about [you should be able to guess what from the title] edited by Julius Bailey, was, far from the vacuous pop-culture-dissection pseudo-academia that people seemed to expect of it when I mentioned that it was on my currently-being-read-shelf, actually one of the most interesting books I've read so far this year.
   I acquired it in February, following an evening in which I had my eyes (ears) opened to Kanye properly for the first time, having never properly listened to his music, when my housemate Adam (a longtime fan of Mr West) proposed that we watch the livestream of his new album (The Life of Pablolaunch from Madison Square Garden. So we did: in a flurry of egoism and the launch of not only his seventh solo album but his new fashion range (more or less loads of people dressed as [refugees?] stood unsmiling unmoving on a series of platforms throughout the launch), Mr West proceeded to press 'play' on a laptop and so commence the world's first public hearing of an album that he'd changed the name of four times, still hadn't decided on the final tracklist for, even months after this launch hadn't made publicly available except on Jay-Z's failing-small-fish-in-a-heavily-monopolised-pond streaming service Tidal, and had described as 'the best album of all time' - so, expectations were high. And to be fair, while we'll allow his ego to gloss over his hyperbolic hype, it actually was a really good album. So over the next two days I decided to give his other music a try, listening to all six of his previous solo albums with Adam (yeh, February was not a busy month for our house) at least once (I think I listened to Yeezus and My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy thrice each), and it suffices to say that I became an unshakeable admirer of Kanye West as an artist. Which left me in something of a quandary. Having never properly listened to his music before, I'd always presumed* he was 'just an alright rapper' with a penchant for ridiculous egotistical outbursts, aggressive outspoken narcissism, a god complex, whatever you want to call it - a bit delusional and a bit of a dickhead. But there was a deep creativity to his music and intellectual weight to his lyrics, even if they did so often dip into the stereotypical 'misogyny and materialistic boasting' tropes of rap, it did so with a self-awareness and political consciousness that signifies a lot more thought behind the craft than I suspect is the case with much stereotypical rap.** Whatever the case, I was curious how he maintained such a controversial and seemingly high-risk public character at the same time as not being an out-and-out loon but a fully-fledged genius. So I bought this. And then couldn't read it until about two months ago because my housemate Chris was writing a dissertation about hiphop (yes, actually) so he borrowed it.
   Anyway.
   I wasn't exactly sure what kind of questions I wanted answered or which ones this book would answer, but needless to say, each of the essays contained in here was deeply engaging, relatively readable (though some of them are pretty steeped in liberal-academia-babble and/or cultural studies jargon), and highly educational about something I didn't know that much about. Kanye as a person, a male, a black person, a constructed persona, an artist, an ego, and a philosopher-by-implication is discussed in-depth, as is his work, all placed and explored carefully in a range of contexts - hiphop culture in wider American music, issues of race and gender, media responses to celebrity actions, and so on. I've not really got many major personal reflections on this book, I just found the essays really stimulating and educational, but since a far-too-large chunk of this post hasn't been about the book at all, I'll flesh it out with a bullet-pointed list of the essays and try to give a rough description [not summary] of their content/gist.
  • 'Now I Ain't Sayin' He's a Crate Digger': Kanye West, 'Community Theatres', and the Soul Archive
    • Mark Anthony Neal explores Kanye's prolific habit of sampling classic soul tracks, and how this has deepened and developed racial-cultural links to the history of African-American music.
  • Kanye West: Asterisk Genius?
    • Akil Houston examines what constitutes a 'genius' in a creative sense, and tries to determine whether, by placing his work in its artistic context, Kanye is one, as Kanye himself certainly seems to think.
  • Afrofuturism: the Digital Turn and the Visual Art of Kanye West
    • Reynaldo Anderson and John Jennings look at how Kanye's music videos, album artwork, fashion designs, and other visual media convey a distinctly 'black' interpretation of futuristic post-modern forms.
  • You Got Kanyed: Seen But Not Heard
    • David J. Leonard examines how Kanye's occasional 'public outbursts' (e.g. "Taylor I'ma let you finish" or that time he slammed George W. Bush for failing after Katrina) have their generally not-too-well-put but politically salient points ignored by the media, which instead reduces his actions to those of a [rich and famous but still] black man stepping out of line.
  • An Examination of Kanye West's Higher Education Trilogy
    • Heidi R. Lewis looks at the sociopolitical implications, of which there are myriad, embedded in the artistic choices and lyrical content of his first three albums.
  • 'By Any Means Necessary': Kanye West and the Hypermasculine Construct
    • Sha'Dawn Battle discusses how hiphop culture's misogyny may be a socio-politico-cultural vent in response to the systemic dehumanisation of black men in a racist society (i.e. oppressed black males seek to affirm their personhood by affirming their manhood, and so heterosexual conquest becomes a demographic keystone of status).
  • Kanye West's Sonic [Hip-Hop] Cosmopolitanism
    • Regina N. Bradley examines how the musical stylistic choices Kanye makes may reflect his aims to transcend and break down certain social boundaries.
  • 'Hard to Get Straight': Kanye West, Masculine Anxiety, Dis-identification
    • Tim'm West looks at a similar issue to Sha'Dawn Battle's above essay, though here examining hiphop's attitudes to homosexuality, and how Kanye has rocked the boat in this regard by not voicing prevalent prejudices.
  • 'You Can't Stand the Nigger I See!': Kanye West's Analysis of Anti-Black Death
    • Tommy Curry explores very similar issues to Sha'Dawn Battle's above essay, with an emphasis on the racist oppression and sexualisation of black men, and how Kanye both embraces and shatters these prejudices in his lyrics and constructed persona.
  • When Apollo and Dionysus Clash: a Nietzschean Perspective on the Work of Kanye West
    • Julius Bailey (the book's editor), in what I feel is the best-titled but one of the least rewarding essays of the lot, explores Nietzsche's concept structures of aesthetics, and how aspects of Apollo (ordered rationalism) and Dionysus (embodied emotivism) are blended together by Kanye to generate art that provokes interested thought and raw base feeling from very closely-bound aspects of his work.
  • God of the New Slaves or Slave to the Ideas of Religion and God?
    • Monica R. Miller examines the religious concepts that recur in Kanye's work, particularly focusing on his adoption of the name/persona 'Yeezus' as a means of making points about his socioeconomic status as a black man framed in terminology and imagery derived from Christian traditions, whether this could be considered blasphemous, and whether Kanye's own beliefs are relevant.
  • Trimalchio from Chicago: Flashing Lights and the Great Kanye in West Egg
    • A. D. Carson sketches the parallels between Kanye's pursuit of true hiphop and the core character drive of Jay Gatsby in what is frankly a pretty weird essay.
  • Confidently [Non]cognizant of Neoliberalism: Kanye West and the Interruption of Taylor Swift
    • Nicholas D. Krebs outlines neoliberalism's propensity for upholding certain inequalities while simultaneously co-opting other socio-politico-cultural movements or trends, in this case hiphop, a music derived from black people's experience (the oppressive nature of which is unchallenged by neoliberal order) which has become highly profitable in neoliberal consumer societies so long as it doesn't seek to call out the messed-up racist structures underpinning the whole spectacle. Kanye however will persistently rap about structural racism, make loads of money from it, and then feel empowered enough as an influential artist to speak out against Taylor Swift's trumping Beyoncé on the grounds that her whiteness had validated her as the winner even if she was otherwise less deserving. The racist neoliberal system did not respond kindly (see also David J. Leonard's above essay on similar topic).
  • Kanye Omari West: Visions of Modernity
    • Dawn Boeck tracks three phases in Kanye's artistic development, and the implications within each phase for his vision of modernity and his place within it as an influential rich famous black creative genius. Chock-full of excellent thought-provoking stuff, this one.

   So, that's the book. Anyone just expecting a low-key easy-read book about Kanye will be taken aback by how riotously scholarly the bulk of these essays are. That said, anyone interested in Kanye, to any extent, will probably find themselves learning a lot from this - and anyone interested in race, music, culture, and celebrities in the media, will probably gain a lot from reading it too. My one gripe with the book isn't a legitimate gripe, I'm just slightly annoyed that it came out in 2014, two years before The Life of Pablo, and having relistened to his full discography a few times since February (especially his seventh album which is a strong contender for my favourite), I feel like Pablo's attitude, content, and style develop certain threads explored in this book further in extremely interesting ways (especially the essays of Monica R. Miller, Akil Houston, and Dawn Boeck), and I'd have loved to read about that. But alas. Maybe I could write my own thoughts and reflections?



* This implies that I was completely ignorant of him, but even before having listened to his music, for several years I've had a weird fascination with Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, simply for how powerfully they seem to exemplify something about individualism and fame in modern Western society. They both flaunt deep-rooted egoism alongside extremely adept control of their own personas in the public eye, Kim through empowered-patriarchal-female use of and complete reclamation of her sexualised image, Kanye through empowered-patriarchal-male use of his work and words, even [especially?] when it grates people.

** I have never felt like such a White Boy, writing that sentence.

[Edit - May 2018: in light of Kanye's quasi-racist-apologetic stunt of what I'd like to think is a risky but (obviously ego-spotlight-flauntatious regardless) calculatedly subversive bomb of outlandishly controversial performance art mixed with an actually-quite-constructive way of gaining influence on those in power without alienating them from the off - although any such not-really-that-unreasonable-in-the-development-of-West-as-a-creative/-celebrity-personality suggestions hitherto are taken kindly by the assembled masses of the online commentariat, which is not known for its general capacity to handle nuance or feel a whiff of cognitive dissonance on a good day, let alone be expected to respond aright to a deliberately-obtuse political about-turn from a figure increasingly regarded as having transmorphed from benign self-obsessed maniac genius into an ever-further obtuse and evasive figure as to whose real inner life it has become utterly fatuous to speculate about, so far has he himself deliberatedly deconstructed the lines between his frictional frontline celebrity life and the artwork that keeps him in it? I get the vague impression that most of his audience have given up trying to know what to think, as also I should probably apologise herewith for the previous sentence. (And I'm not even sure why it ends with a question mark but there we go.) Well, and especially, when out of the tumult of this media/social-media cacophony of outrage, apologistic speculations, further outrage at the apologistic speculations, which prompted polite responses which after a few more million back-and-forths of this across the internet eventually, obviously, was to descend into what always happens in these situations which is that every echo chamber involved hastily cobbles an ad hoc 'line' and everyone rapidly (unless already having said something about it, in which case they're either an influencer (vague strokes of common opinion between them determining the line), a tentative follower (who may then edit what they said if the line comes out different later on), or an opinionated outcast without enough followers to care about in this birds-eye view anyway) adheres to it. It is fair to say that arguments about Kanye West were happening. Then he dropped a pair of new songs, the latter of which is a lyrically-potent dialogue about his new political stance and his relationship with Donald Trump called Ye vs. the People (with the people here being represented in rap form by T.I.), and the former a two-minute old-skool-brick-phone-ringtone-kinda-vibe moonburst called Lift Yourself, the extremely-pre-hyped final verse to which comprised Kanye saying the absolute most he possibly could have packed into a single verse at this exact moment in his drift across the public gaze: gibberish. (Okay it was more like an extended scat-like thing more-or-less just rejiggling the components of the profound syllables "woop diddy scoop, poopty de doop" - the point is, now people are still just as, if not more confused, by the whole debacle, which has maintained a high degree of online discussion about it, including this now that I'm looking back at it extremely long addition to a blogpost almost two years old which might not ever be read by anyone but me as this is quite an old one and who reads this anyway? so but only goes further to show how effective a self-perpetuating incorrigible unfathomable character of celebrity and controversy and creativity Kanye West is, such that he's been all over my feeds that much I felt compelled to wonder what the authors of the above essays would make of it, and, well, then, I can't think of any dignifed way to end this horrendous post-script.]

Tuesday, 14 June 2016

How to Read Buildings

This book, a graphic crash-course in architecture by Carol Davidson Cragoe, more or less did what it said on the tin - which was to walk me through various facets of buildings and how and why they vary depending on historical styles. Each double-page spread is filled with five helpful images (ranging from utterly unhelpful line sketch to hyper-realistic high-detail drawings) of examples. Following an introductory trio of chapters about types of building, the 'grammar of style', and common building materials, Carol Cragoe then walks us through columns, capitals, arches, roofs, gables, vaults, domes, towers, doors, porches, windows, stairways, chimneys, fireplaces, and ornamentation. The sheer variety of architectural features out there is something I've never systematically looked into, despite my being an avid-yet-casual enjoyer of looking at buildings: from the gorgeous vaulted roofs and intimidating spires of medieval Gothic buildings to the friendly curvatures of Rococo or the harsh efficiency of modernism, the cultural and technological contexts of building styles has yielded enormous breadth in how buildings can come to look and function. I certainly learned a lot. (A glossary of architectural jargon at the back helps one retain all this knowledge for all those [never] times in the future that you'll not only look appreciatively at a building but point out a given feature.) I also found this book almost unspeakably dull, finishing it only because
  1. It belongs to my housemate Chris, and he's leaving Sheffield soon. He doesn't even know I've got it I don't think, I borrowed it ages ago and got so bored of it that it's just been sat in my room since about November.
  2. It's quite short, so I may as well have squeezed an extra blog post out of it.
  3. Knowing vague flurries of details about architecture isn't a bad thing, but I'm struggling to envisage a practical use for the non-systematic non-comprehensive mass of information I've ingested, other than deliberately irritating (by talking at length about boring stuff) my younger brother when we see cool buildings on holiday. This may be just enough of a warrant.
Anyway. If you like buildings, culture, history, pictures of buildings, whatever, you might well enjoy this little book. Go for it.