Reading List 2017

Where the Water Goes: Life and Death Along the Colorado River, David Owen (171231) ***+ This book offers the same clear-eyed view of complexity as Owen offered in his excellent Green Metropolis. One important and inescapable conclusion is that fantasy is a big part of the so-called water rights debate: "paper water" is what's specified by historic usage agreements; "wet water" is what actually flows in the river. There's a lot more of the former than there is of the latter.

Breathing Underwater: Spirituality and The Twelve Steps, Richard Rohr (171206) *** A step-by-step exegesis of the 12 Steps, with insightful commentary. I need to listen to (or read) this again in order to capture more of its riches. Theology comes on a bit thick in places. 

Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans,  John Marzluff and Tony Angell (171128) **** Really worthwhile and full of amazing anecdotes. There are diagrams and illustrations that accompany the Kindle version. Well read.

The Riders, Tim Winton (171115) **** Beautiful writing and story-telling. Scully and his daughter Billie are sharply drawn, and Winton, an Australian, renders the supporting cast of characters with a great eye for detail. More of this writer ahead as well.

Caught, by Henry Green (171114) **** My first Henry Green novel. At times I felt that he was writing in or creating a new language. The book deserves a closer reading than I gave it, nibbling bits each night from my Kindle. I will definitely read more of his work.

Falling Upward: A Spirituality for The Second Half of Life, Richard Rohr (171029) *** A thoughtful book, well-written and very well read by the author. Many useful references to Jung and the Twelve Steps. I want to read this again in paper to digest its lessons of individuation more fully.

Empire of Liberty: A History of the New Republic, 1789 – 1815, Gordon S. Wood (171022) **** Excellent account of a formative period in America’s becoming a nation. Full of interesting insights: America’s drinking problem, the long-simmering conflict between the Federalists and Republicans, campus protests, the indomitable growth of commerce, and more. This book is so good I’ve ordered a paper copy to read again.        

Anasazi America, David E. Stuart (170924) **** A survey of 1700 years of Chaco and Pueblo civilization in the U.S. Southwest. Although I would have liked more detail about daily life and ritual, Stuart stays close to the factual record in his extremely well-written account. His thoughts about sustainable communities run through his book like a red thread. One of the most worthwhile and interesting books I’ve read in a long time.

Cities of the Plain, Cormac McCarthy (170907) ***** This is the third volume in the Border Trilogy. It’s gripping, engrossing, disturbing. The writing is just superb, so full of heart and truth. I’m strongly inclined to start over again with All The Pretty Horses. Evidently, the title is a reference to Sodom and Gomorrah. Very well read!

Chokehold: Policing Black Men, Paul Butler (170816) *** A discouraging look at criminal justice for blacks in the U.S. in 2017 by an expert witness. Considering the volatility of the issue, Butler’s book is a remarkably balanced cry for reform.

I Am Radar (print edition), Reif Larsen (170810) N/A Stopped after 250 pages. Imaginative and well-written but I’m only able to get through a few pages each night. I plan to return to it.

Commonwealth, Ann Patchett (170708) ***** Even better than State of Wonder, which was excellent. Patchett uses an interesting narrative technique in this novel that draws on the short story form.

The Hundred Days, Patrick O’Brian (170613) *** A really lovely story, a bit less swashbuckling than others because a lot of the focus this time is on Stephen Maturin and his colleague Dr Amos Jacob as they carry out a complex bit of spying in Algiers.

The New Poilitics of Extremism, Thomas E. Mann and Norman Ornstein (170531) *** Cogent and depressing analysis. I stopped reading a few chapters before the end, not because there was anything wrong with the book but because I felt that reading about “solutions” at this point was an academic exercise at best.

Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, David Grann (170526) ** Well-written and very well-researched. An absolutely horrible story about the way the US treated and mistreated the Osage Indian Tribe in Oklahoma. Grann worked hard to collect the facts and present the underlying atrocities. In the end, the structure of the book never quite knit together.

The Hour of Land, Terry Tempest Williams (170428) *** Heartfelt, often poetic description of national parks and why they’re so important. A little preachy at times.

Worshipful Company of Fletchers, James Tate (170416) *** Wonderful poetry. I plan to read more of Tate.

The North Water, Ian McGuire (170415) **** Hard-bitten whaling yarn and mystical saga wrapped into one. Extraordinarily well-drawn characters. Beautifully read.

The Orchid Thief, Susan Orlean (170401) *** A lively and well-written look into the strange world of orchids and the obsessions they inspire in people. Part John McPhee, part David Foster Wallace.

The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead (170319) ****  A powerful work of history and imagination. Extremely well-drawn characters. The plotting floats gracefully and seamlessly in and out of fantasy. There are a few stretches that seemed a bit doctrinaire, but a second reading (which would be worthwhile) may create a different impression. Slavery is harrowing, and Whitehead presents the awful truth with restraint and respect.

The Path to Power: The Years of Lyndon Johnson I, Robert Caro (170312) *** Extremely thorough and well-researched. Moves pretty well considering all the weight it carries. Johnson does not come off as a very likeable guy. Not sure I have an appetite for vols 2 and 3.

The Trespasser, Tana French (170105) **** There were moments when I was tempted to put this story aside but I’m glad I stuck with it. Antoinette Crowley, Irish Detective, is an interesting character in a well-plotted tale enlivened by gritty detail.

Metaphor and Menace

Town Wall, c. 13th century, Rotenburg ob der Tauber, Bavaria, Germany

Town Wall, c. 13th century, Rotenburg ob der Tauber, Bavaria, Germany

Hadrian built one. The colony of New Amsterdam built one. Berlin built one. So did Constantinople. And Jerusalem. And possibly Jericho. Throughout history, every settlement that gave a thought to its stature and survival built a wall.  Some were meant to keep people out. Some were designed to keep people in. Some, as Robert Frost noted, said they meant to do one thing even while doing the opposite. But the "beautiful wall" that Donald Trump keeps promising to build along the border between the United States and Mexico can’t be reduced to a simple purpose. Nor can it be reduced to a single part of speech. For Trump, "Wall" is both noun and verb. In both cases, they mean danger.

Tough Sell
As recently as the G20 meeting earlier this month, the President insisted that he was “absolutely” convinced that Mexico would pay for the wall, even though these days more unauthorized non-Mexicans are apprehended at the US Border than actual immigrants from Mexico. With all the other Trumpian material in their baggage train, members of the House and Senate are not exactly clamoring to finance a two thousand mile long billion dollar barrier, even one made of solar panels. 

But why even bother? The walls are already up. According to the Dow Jones site MarketWatch, fewer travelers are coming to the US from international locations, and 6% fewer prospective travelers are seeking information online. This shouldn’t surprise anyone who followed the G20 meeting in Hamburg last week. The President quickly succeeded in becoming the least popular leader at the meeting. He sat alone at the conference table as the 19 other participants engaged in substantive dialogue. Trump has distressed America's allies by pulling out of the Paris climate agreement and has further offended them with his aggressively isolationist “America First” posturing. Without appearing to break a sweat, Donald Trump built a wall around himself. 

The Wrong Kind of Elk
And the walling doesn’t stop there. Consider all of his proposed roll-backs . To name a few, he has taken aim at environmental regulations protecting clean air and water, at measures designed to prevent financial mayhem, at birth control, at nutrition programs for children, at health care for tens of millions of Americans and at seemingly every single thing that Barack Obama ever tried to do. Believe it or not, Rick Perry's Energy Department has ordered up a study of whether wind, solar and other forms of renewable energy pose a threat to coal, oil and natural gas. Maybe a solar wall isn't such a good idea after all, Mr. President. Meanwhile, The  Onion has satirically reported that the Interior Department has requested the resignation of all the elk appointed during the Obama administration, regardless of subspecies (thanks, Jim Warren). 

Qin_shihuangdi_c01s06i06.jpg

All of these acts of denial, withdrawal and rejection recall an ancient, archetypal legend. In an essay published in the 1960s, the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges reflects on the Chinese Emperor Shih Huang Ti (pictured) who, after bringing the Six Kingdoms under his rule, began the building of what we know today as The Great Wall of China. But that’s not all he did. He also ordered that all books written before his time be burned. As Borges observes, calling for the immolation of 3,000 years of learning, in a culture that reveres its past, was  a shocking act. Perhaps, Borges suggests, “the wall in space and the fire in time were magic barriers designed to halt death.” In a current idiom, that approach might resonate with a 70-year old man preoccupied with his hair-do. More pragmatically, if we take the tale at face value, it tells the story of a ruler who wanted to establish absolute control over space and time by abolishing the world outside and the world before. It's all connected.

George Orwell, whose classic 1984 is enjoying brisk sales these days, understood this all too well. The slogan of the Party in the novel is:  "Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past."

So be alert! As Sergeant Esterhaus used to say on Hill Street Blues, "Let's be careful out there."

Photo via Visual Hunt

Trade Secrets

Take a guess: who's called “The Father of the American Industrial Revolution?" If you don’t already know, you might be considering such titans as Henry Ford, Thomas Edison, Samuel Morse, Eli Whitney. Every one of these is worthy of great acclaim, but none of them holds the title. 

Photo: Igor Ovsyannykov

Photo: Igor Ovsyannykov

To begin with, the Father of the American Industrial Revolution was not an American. He came of age in Derbyshire, England, the son of a prosperous farmer. As did so many others at the time, he went to work in 1783 at the age of 14 as an apprentice in a textile mill owned by a man named Jedediah Strutt. This was no ordinary factory. Its machinery was as high as technology got in that day — a water-driven spinning mill designed by Richard Arkwright. This ingenious device could produce in ten minutes as much yarn as a housewife working on her spinning wheel at home would produce in 9 hours. 

Birds of Prey
Arkwright had a few partners, including Strutt. They all zealously guarded the secrets of their machinery, and so they should have. To read contemporary accounts, there was an American hiding behind every tree, hoping to persuade a mill worker to spill  some trade secrets. There was a lot at stake: America imported vast quantities of British yarn and cloth. The amount climbed steadily, from 356,000 yards in 1785 to more than ten times as much by 1800. 

So valuable did England consider its monopoly that it forbade skilled workers, including and especially textile hands, from leaving the country. A pamphlet published in England in the mid-1790s warned “there are plenty of agents hovering like birds of prey on the banks of the Thames,” eager to persuade artisans, mechanics and others to come to America. in the U.S., fully aware of the prohibition against emigration, mill owners ran come-hither ads in English newspapers just the same, hoping to set a hook.

Englishmen were outraged. The great historian Fernand Braudel reports that William Pitt the Elder, who actually supported the Americans in the War of Independence, is supposed to have said: "if America so much as considers making a stocking or a horseshoe nail, she shall feel the full weight of British might.”

Still, it was plain as day that anyone who managed to get to America with the plans for an Arkwright spinning machine was going to make a fortune. You can see where this is going. As it happens, our Father’s Day Guest of Honor had risen to become superintendent of the Strutt mill, in which capacity he often had occasion to take apart the machines and put them back together again. And he had memorized every bobbin, lever, gear and spindle.

The Great Escape
Under cover of darkness (one would imagine) and disguised as a farmer, our man stole his way to London. He was stopped at the dock when he tried to board a ship bound for New York, but his farmer’s get-up was convincing and he hurried on board. 

His name: Samuel Slater. It took him some time to get started after landing in the U.S. in 1789, but once he did, he built factories from Maine to Pennsylvania. He built a town for his workers and machines in Slatersville, Rhode Island, which still stands. Life in a cotton or woolen mill was not a Currier and Ives kind of occupation. Women and children as young as 7 labored from 6 in the morning to 7 in the evening 6 days a week, breathing in lint and dust in surroundings that William Blake called, in another country but at about the same time, “dark Satanic Mills."

The disruptive effects of the Industrial Revolution went far beyond textiles. Some of those included:

"Non-industrial wage labor increased; urban centers grew; and in farming areas, outwork occupations and commercial agriculture transformed the rural labor market. . . these economic developments coincided with dramatic changes in family life, particularly declining family size and increasing life expectancy. A greater role for women in the labor force, contemporary politics, and reform activities was certainly one of the unintended consequences of technological change in nineteenth-century America." [Women and the Early Industrial Revolution in the United States, by Thomas Dublin]

 

So to earn the lofty title of "Father of the American Industrial Revolution" -- supposedly from that lover of industry, Andrew Jackson, no less -- was therefore no small thing. Nor was the title he earned back home and which sticks to this day: Slater the Traitor. Leaving poetry aside, he could just as easily be called "Slater, another traitor" because larceny played an important role in what polite society might call "the diffusion of knowledge." 

Patriots Among Thieves
None other than Alexander Hamilton condoned the practice of technology piracy. In this, he was joined, at least for a time, by George Washington himself, who praised the "zealous" efforts of a rather questionable fellow named Thomas Digges to help send artisans and machines "of public utility" to the United States. For the sake of earning a respectable place for their young country in the international community, Washington and Hamilton both toned down their cheerleading but they did not go further than that. 

Perhaps the greatest feat of industrial piracy was that of Francis Cabot Lowell's, for whom Lowell, Massachusetts is named. He managed to travel from England to the United States in 1815 with a fairly complete set of plans for a water-powered loom. It took him no time to put the loom and the spinning machines under the same roof and the rest, you might say, is history. 

Well, almost. Arkwright was distraught to have lost control of the industry that was growing all around him. He applied to the British Courts for a patent that would give him exclusive rights over the water-powered spinning machines he felt had invented. The case moved slowly. At length the petition was denied. Reaslon: it appears that years before, Arkwright had originally stolen the idea from someone else. 

As for Slater, his story is much happier. In 1790, a few years before his mill started operating, the United States produced a grand total of two million pounds of cotton. By 1835, its output had increased to 80 million pounds. At the time of his death in that same year, Slater's fortune was estimated at $1.2 million, a colossal sum for the time. His success was not only enough to garner a Presidential nickname, but also to earn him a place on "The Wealthy 100," a ranking of the richest Americans ever from Benjamin Franklin to Bill Gates.*

Happy Father's Day!

* The Wealthy 100, by Michael Klepper and Robert Gunther Citadel Press, 1996.

 

 

lower case history

So much of history hangs on the wall in the manner of a dusty old canvas with a gold-plated upper case title like THE NAPOLEONIC WARS, THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE, THE MING DYNASTY, THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION. There’s another kind of history, the lower case kind, that’s humbler, much less stately, though no less informative. 

An example is staring us in the face right now. As our coal-loving President withdraws the United States from the Paris Climate Agreement, the Kentucky Coal Mining Museum in Harlan Country, Kentucky, is switching to solar power. Owned by the Southeast Kentucky Community and Technical College, the museum is making the move to lower its energy bills by installing 80 solar panels on its roof. It expects to save as much as $10,000 a year. The museum’s level-headed albeit ironic decision attracted attention from CNN, The Washington Post, the New York Times and even, via Twitter, Al Gore. It's not clear whether the President is aware of this collision of realities.

The Writing on the Wall
For another striking example of a lower case moment we thank Clay Shirky, author of Here Comes Everybody, a brilliant book about the impact of digital media on society.  Shirky observes that since social effects lag far behind technological ones, “real revolutions don’t involve an orderly transition from point A to point B. Rather,” he says, “they go from A through a long period of chaos” before reaching B. 

Case in point: the effect of movable type on the scribes who labored in cold stone monasteries by the light of dripping candles to hand-make copies of age-old manuscripts. With Gutenberg’s technology, it was suddenly possible, for the first time in history, to create a book in a fraction of the time it took to read, let alone copy, one. In 1492, the Abbot of Sponheim in Western Germany saw with alarm that the great scribal tradition was facing a serious threat. So he pulled his quill from its scabbard, grabbed an inkwell, and wrote De Laude Scriptorum (in praise of scribes) in its defense.

There was no time to lose; the Abbot needed to get his message out quickly and widely. This of course is something the scribes could not help him do. So he had his treatise printed. “The content of the Abbot’s book praised the scribes,” Shirky notes, “while its printed form damned them.” 

Shades of the mining museum!

Make Mules Great Again
History is full of these lower case clashes, especially during times of rapid change. People used candles for illumination long after electricity was available to light their homes. The ice trade continued long after the development of electric refrigerators. Despite the President's determination to restore the coal industry to its former glory, automation has already taken over the miner's job. Indeed, the museum in coal country may have had some concern about how much longer coal would be available. According to the Department of Energy, there are more than 6 times as many Americans working in solar power today than working in the mine, and that trend is on a one-way trip.  Even King Canute knew he could not reverse the tide.

But wait: a silver lining. The New York Times reports that electrical transformers and turbines, Navy sonar equipment, colossal beer brewing tanks and other items too massive to move by rail or road are floating once again on the Erie Canal. The Times cites New York State officials who say they expect "more than 200,000 tons of shipping on the canal system in 2017, a milestone not reached since 1993." No sign of any mules yet, but surely President Trump won't leave them behind.

Don't forget Sal! 

Don't forget Sal!