Doom vs. Boom: Robert Gordon and Joel Mokyr on the future of American growth

From Northwestern Now:

It has been called the ‘clash of titans.’ Two of the biggest names in economics research–Bob Gordon and Joel Mokyr – have been battling it out in the press for years with fiery arguments in the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times, plus debates in countries all over the world, including the latest at the Chicago Council on Global Affairs.

Robert Gordon, author of The Rise and Fall of American Growth, and Joel Mokyr, author of A Culture of Growth, go head to head in their latest debate on the future of economic growth in the United States. You can listen to it via the Northwestern Now podcast, or read the full transcript.

 

Gordon

 

Mokyr

Mark Williams: A look at Irish gods and their legacy

WilliamsAgeless fairies inspired J.R.R. Tolkien’s immortal elves; W. B. Yeats invoked Irish divinities to reimagine the national condition. Why have Ireland’s mythical beings loomed so large in the world’s imagination? In Ireland’s Immortals: A History of the Gods of Irish Myth, Mark Williams weaves together the fascinating stories of some of Ireland’s famous gods and goddesses, from the heroic Lug to the fire goddess Brigit. He explores the religious history in the myths, showing how Ireland’s pagan divinities were transformed into literary characters in the medieval Christian era. Recently, Williams took the time to answer some questions about Irish gods and their stories.


Apparently Ireland has a pantheon of native gods?!

MW: Yes! — though in many ways they are unique, and don’t look all that much like the pantheons of other peoples and places. They’re called the Túatha Dé Danann in Irish, or ‘The Peoples of the Goddess Danu,’ as it’s usually translated. They tend to be imagined as immortal, beautiful aristocrats, sumptuously dressed and eternally young. In many stories from medieval Ireland, they live in a kind of parallel world, which can be accessed via the hills and Neolithic passage-graves which dot the Irish landscape. Some of them have vivid personalities: there’s the Morrígan, a battle-goddess who sometimes takes the form of a crow, for instance, or the young and heroic god Lug of the Long Arm. My favorite is Brigit, the goddess of poetry, medicine and blacksmithing who also moonlights as Ireland’s most important female saint — or at least has been thought to.

What is unusual about the Irish gods?

MW: Across Irish literature, in both Irish and English, their major characteristic is ontological ambiguity: the nature of their nature, so to speak, is never wholly fixed. In the first place, it’s hard to simply identify them as gods, as they have only an uncertain and wavering link to the actual deities worshiped by the pre-Christian Irish. Ireland’s conversion to Christianity saw the jettisoning of the vast majority of deities the Irish had once worshiped, while a small number were ‘reincarnated’ as medieval literary characters. This latter process was in no way inevitable, and the Anglo-Saxons did nothing of the sort, for example: you don’t find versions of Woden and Thunor turning up as literary characters in secular story, whereas the Irish constantly worked former gods into their sagas and tales, often worrying about how to place them in a Christian cosmos. Serious suggestions included the idea that they were merciful angels, ‘half-fallen’ angels, demons, or a race of humans who had somehow escaped the Fall and so retained more-than-human powers.

That the old gods were remembered at all was down to the deep respect for the past, which was characteristic of the medieval Irish. The Anglo-Saxons knew that they had arrived from somewhere else in the relatively recent past, but the Irish — around the conversion period, at least — seem to have thought themselves to be indigenous to their land. They were deeply invested in their own nativeness, so that their landscape, culture, and ancestry were all bound up together. (A new story was developed later which asserted that they hailed from Scythia, via Spain). But literature and shaping of a literate culture were in the hands of a clerical intelligentsia, who felt perfectly at liberty to make major changes in the depiction of ancient, once-divine figures. It is very striking how much the multi-talented god Lug (or Lugh) resembles the biblical King David, for example — both are young, handsome, royal figures, both are skilled musicians and poets, and both kill a giant with a slingshot to the head in single combat. Though there is no question that a god named Lug (or Lugus) was part of Irish paganism, one wonders how much of his ancient character actually persists in the literary Lug. This kind of remodeling might have happened to any number of the divine figures in Irish literature; far from representing the ignorant interference of clerics in ancient traditions, it actually reflects an attitude of deep respect on their part, and underscores their investment in the patterns and personages of their island’s ancient past.

The second peculiarity about the gods is that they are often depicted as ‘fairies’ — the not very satisfactory English term for the Irish áes síde, ‘the people of the hollow hills’. It is the second of these two Irish words which was later anglicised as Shee — a term familiar to all aficionados of nineteenth-century Irish literature. Rather than being gods, in this guise they act as humanity’s idealized twin-race. They are beautiful, immortal, and gifted with magic powers, and their lifestyle is largely characterized by graceful ease. In many ways they are the forerunner of Tolkien’s Elves, but they are less solemn and remote. In this guise they balloon in number: they become an imagined people, not a pantheon.

The third factor is that towards the end of the first millennium AD the Irish developed a complex backstory for their island, and a place for the Túatha Dé Danann was found within this elaborate timeline. They were now imagined as only one of a series of invading races who had ruled Ireland in the deep past. The climax of this kind of ‘synthetic history’ (as it is known) came in the late eleventh century, with the creation of ‘The Book of Invasions.’ In this schema, the gods were imagined as human beings who had simply learned how to supercharge their abilities with magical knowledge. They were (the synthetic history tells us) the third or fourth race to rule over Ireland, before they were in turn defeated by the incoming Gaels, the ethnic Irish. This scenario is transparently a creation of the high Middle Ages, but it became the basic imaginative frame for Ireland’s native gods until the nineteenth century.

The upshot of all these variations on the ontology of the Túatha Dé Danann was that it was actually quite difficult for antiquarian writers in modernity — as they combed through the records of the Irish past —to spot that these literary figures had once been Ireland’s native gods. Considerable preparation of the intellectual ground was necessary, and here the newly developed scholarly disciplines of anthropology, philology, and comparative mythology all played important roles. It wasn’t until the 1870s that the idea really took off, and soon it became a cultural and scholarly commonplace.

Why are the Irish gods less famous than the Graeco-Roman and Norse gods?

MW: The classical gods were the divinities of two cultures which were deeply admired by later ages, and were inseparable from the literature of those cultures; the gods of Greece and Rome therefore became part of the universal intellectual and imaginative patrimony of Europe. In the Middle Ages and on into the Early Modern era, Christian intellectuals felt perfectly at liberty to adopt them as symbols, personifications, allegories, and rhetorical tropes. (Dante calls on Apollo, for example, right at the heart of the greatest Christian poem of the Middle Ages). And later, with the Romantic movement, the impulse emerged to take the classical gods down from their niches in literary rhetoric and reclaim them as images of divine power in the natural world, even as living spiritual forces. So the gods of Greece and Rome have never actually been away, and have been naturalized for centuries in literature in English.

It’s worth noting, however, that the classical gods had no specifically national dimension, precisely because they were so universal. The Norse gods were quite different. Like the Irish gods, they were associated with a vernacular northern European language and had starring roles in a splendid medieval literature. In modernity, they could be claimed as the ‘native’ gods of those areas of Europe in which a Germanic language was spoken. This meant Germany, of course, but also — because of the Anglo-Saxon heritage — England, which gave the Norse gods a ready-made audience and a role as the ‘divine machinery’ in many forms of quasi-nationalist creative expression. The classic example is Wagner, whose monumental Der Ring des Nibelungen brought the Northern pantheon to international attention as a family of archetypal figures on a cosmic scale, explicitly paralleled to the gods of Greece. The Gaelic gods, in contrast, were associated only with Ireland and with the poorest and most remote parts of Scotland, and so seemed vague and outlandish in comparison.

Why did someone like W. B. Yeats take an interest?

MW: Yeats, and his friend the mystic George Russell, are really the essential figures in the late nineteenth century recovery of the Irish gods, though they had important precursors. Yeats was well-placed to take advantage of the new scholarship which had retrieved the Túatha Dé Danann as Ireland’s native pantheon. In his early-career siftings of material, he was able to boldly assert the fundamental identity of the fairies of folklore, the Túatha Dé Danann of the medieval literature, and the gods of the ancient Irish. Here the occult acted as a crucial unifying frame; Yeats was deeply invested in occultism as a system of thought, and he used it to give meaning and context to the Irish pantheon. To use anachronistic language, he came to believe, around the turn of the century, that the native gods were the archetypes of the national

unconscious, and that it might be possible to retrieve and reactivate them, creating a system of hermetic ‘images’ with which to reimagine the national condition. To this end he attempted to establish the so-called ‘Celtic Mysteries’ — a hermetic order on specifically national lines which would invoke and stir into life these figures from the depths of the national psyche, persuading them to intervene in a conflicted present. He certainly didn’t succeed in the way that he expected, but—more than a hundred years later—more people have heard of Lug, and Danu, and Brigit than ever before, and indeed the Irish gods are the focus of several forms of renewed and reimagined modern Paganism. So who knows? They are certainly alive now.

Is Ireland’s Immortals meant to be funny?

MW: In places, yes, I hope so; the material seemed to demand it, but in two different ways. On one level, the ferocious weirdness of some of the medieval tales can be laugh-out-loud funny in a way that must have been intentional on the part of the saga-authors. My colleague at Oxford, Heather O’Donoghue — who’s written a wonderful history of Norse mythology — has remarked that myth tends to be the most surreal manifestation of a given culture, and I’ve tried to bring this dimension of the literature out. I dwell, for example, on a scene in a ninth-century saga in which the Dagda, the Falstaffian ‘great father’ of the Irish gods — the rough equivalent of Zeus — takes a very long time to relieve his bowels, before being spanked by a woman he is trying to seduce.

On another level, some of the activities of those involved in the gods’ retrieval in modernity — especially in what might be called the late-Victorian New Age — can’t help but raise a smile in a more cynical era. To me it’s fascinating that a connection can be traced between major political movements that affected the fate of nations on the one hand, and the activities of a clique of irrationalizing intellectuals, fired up by some pretty way-out ideas, on the other. That aspect of things seemed to demand a certain respectful wryness, because the idea of ritually awakening the archetypes of the national unconscious is an astonishing and beautiful one, even if the actual execution could be a bit bonkers. The only such person whom I couldn’t write about respectfully — to start with — was William Sharp, the Scottish writer who posed as a Hebridean seeress he named ‘Fiona Macleod.’ He was a plus-fours wearing six-footer with a big, red face, but he wrote all his most successful ‘Celtic’ work in the guise of this wafty, Enya-like figure. He probably reminds me a bit too closely of my own naïve, teenage forays into things Celtic — all mist-shrouded dolmens and dangly druidical tat — and the act of self-exorcism led me to be unfair to Sharp. I was taken to task — quite rightly — for being too nasty by one of the referees of the book, and in revisions I hope I’ve been more even-handed.

Finally, I have to say that writing about Liam O’Flaherty’s 1930 story The Ecstasy of Angus — a steamy bit of erotica involving the hot-to-trot goddess Fand and the love-god Angus Óg — was an absolute hoot. As the couple get down to it, O’Flaherty actually brings on a chorus of fairies who prance about brandishing dildos. It was impossible to analyze with a straight face, though I hope I’ve made the case that the story does have a dark, politically serious dimension to it.

Why did you write the book, and what influenced it?

MW: I had various aims in mind. First, there was a gap in the scholarship: there was no up-to-date guide to the gods in medieval Irish literature, nor to their recuperation in the modern era. In the two parts of the book I’ve tried to tell both stories in a way that makes one dimension illuminate the other. I’d always wanted to do the project: my undergraduate training was in Classics and English, so I cut my intellectual teeth on reception history, meaning the afterlife and reworking of classical texts by later writers. So we would look, for example, at Milton’s reuse of Virgil and Homer, or at Shakespeare’s allusions to Ovid, or at the links between the end of the tradition of epic poetry and the genesis of the novel. One of the things this gave me was a predisposition to read culture in terms of wholeness and continuity, rather than fracture and disjointedness. But the relationship between Irish literature in English and medieval Irish literature is very different to that between later literature and that of Graeco-Roman antiquity. With the Irish material, ‘reception’ of this sort is problematic because everything is charged with the legacy of a contested and traumatic colonial history, so my impulse towards wholeness needed considerable modification. In 1981 Richard Jenkyns — later to be my Oxford tutor — wrote a splendid book called The Victorians and Ancient Greece, which I actually read at school, and that was a big influence: Part Two could have been subtitled ‘The Victorians and Ancient Ireland.’ Another big influence was the Norse expert Heather O’Donoghue, as — of course — were the works of Roy Foster: one of the greatest pleasures of the process was getting to know him. The biggest influence of all is Ronald Hutton of the University of Bristol. I read his The Pagan Religions of the Ancient British Isles when I was seventeen, and Part One of the book is in one sense a vast expansion of his chapter in that book on the Celts, ‘The People of the Mist.’ He has also written an elegant few pages about Yeats’s and Russell’s astral adventures in his book The Triumph of the Moon, and Part Two of Ireland’s Immortals handles the same material at book length.

One thing I hope for the book is that it might have the effect of freeing things up a bit for younger scholars in Celtic. Celtic Studies as an academic discipline emerged from various kinds of Romantic nationalism in the nineteenth century, and the legacy of that origin is only now really being assessed by scholars — we’re starting to get superb biographical studies of major figures, for example. But the most obvious consequence has been a massive counter-reaction in scholarship against anything woolly or mystical: Celtic Studies has evolved into a hard-headed and rather inward-looking discipline, focused on the production of critical editions and the analysis of the languages. Unfortunately, the field is currently undergoing a period of contraction: there are fewer places in the world where the languages are taught, and important Professorships—including that at my own institution—are under threat. I hope one thing the book might do is to say, look, as Celticists we can reach out, we can talk to colleagues in English and in intellectual history. People who work on Irish literature in English and those who work on literature in Irish hardly ever seem to talk to one another, with a few noble exceptions such as Declan Kiberd. I hope that one thing the book will do is to underline that there is genuine value in seeing the bigger picture from time to time. (That said — lest any colleagues reading this think me to be encouraging a hermeneutic free-for-all — I must say to any student Celticists out there: make sure you learn your paradigms.) But the literature — extraordinary, uncanny, and beautiful as it is — will languish in neglect until we get in the habit of claiming for ourselves significance and status.

Mark Williams teaches medieval Irish, Welsh and English literature at Lincoln College, University of Oxford, where he is the June Li Fellow in the Humanities and Tutor in English. He has also taught for Cambridge University’s Department of of Anglo-Saxon, Norse, & Celtic. Williams is the author of Fiery Shapes: Celestial Portents and Astrology in Ireland and Wales, 700–1700.

“Because it is nearer”—Ireland and Migration

Today, across the entire world, millions of people are observing the feast day of St. Patrick, patron saint of Ireland. But how can we account for the global spread of St. Patrick’s Day, a day celebrating the culture of a small island off the Atlantic seaboard of Europe? The answer, in part, is the extraordinary scale of emigration from Ireland. While this is often attributed to the Great Famine, in his essay on the Irish Diaspora in The Princeton History of Modern Ireland, Enda Delaney paints a more complex picture. He notes that the history of modern Ireland begins with a wave of immigration of Scottish and English settlers, as part of the planned pacification of Ireland through plantation during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Over the same period, the displaced Catholic gentry of Ireland scattered across Europe, founding schools and fighting as mercenaries in wars across the continent.

By the nineteenth century, however, emigration had clearly become the established pattern: “in the years between the end of the Napoleonic Wars and the arrival of potato blight in Ireland in September 1845, approximately a million people left Ireland for North America, and perhaps half that number traveled to Britain, with thirty thousand obtaining state assistance to go to Australia on their
own volition, and another forty thousand sent as transported criminals.” To put these numbers into context, the 1841 census (the first conducted in Ireland) gave the population of the country as 8.2 million. In the desperate years that followed, as many as one million died of starvation and a further two million emigrated. The population of the country continued to dwindle for more than a century, reaching its lowest point in the 1960s at less than three million.

The Famine Memorial, Dublin

The Famine Memorial on the Dublin Quays.
William Murphy on Flickr, licensed under Creative Commons.

The migrating Irish spread throughout the British Empire, on which the sun proverbially never set, but the well-established Irish communities in the United States continued to act as a magnet for many. Delaney recounts a conversation between the agricultural reformer Sir Horace Plunkett and a Galway farmer. “When Plunkett asked why the farmer’s daughter chose to emigrate to the United States rather than move within the county where work was available, the response was ‘because it is nearer,’ meaning that she knew more about New York from friends and family than any part of Ireland apart from her locality.” And this in an age when telephones were a rarity, and crossing the Atlantic still meant a lengthy sea voyage.

The last two decades have seen an extraordinary reversal, with Ireland becoming a destination for migrants for the first time in centuries. Recent estimates suggest that there are 500,000 people living in the Republic who were born outside of Ireland, almost one in eight of the population. The Dubliner standing next to you at the St. Patrick’s Day parade could as easily have been born in Warsaw or Beijing as in Ireland. There can be no question that migration will remain a dominant theme in the history of Ireland.

Q&A with Lauren Arrington, author of Revolutionary Lives

Revolutionary LivesIn the period sometimes referred to as the Irish Revolution, upheaval led to unreliable witness accounts and buried historical evidence that has only recently come to historians’ attention. Lauren Arrington explores these untapped resources and the complex biographies of two European activists in her book Revolutionary Lives.

Who were the Markieviczes?

LA: Constance Markievicz is the better known of the pair, because of her political roles but also because she was an expert at self-publicity.

She grew up in a wealthy family who owned a sprawling estate on the west coast of Ireland, but she rebelled against the strictures of Victorian society and left home to study art—first in London and then in Paris. In the bohemian culture of Montmartre she met the dashing Casimir, a member of the Polish gentry, and they were engaged as soon as his first wife was out of the picture.

Constance and Casimir took their bohemian sensibilities back to Dublin, where they became involved in the local art scene that was closely tied to the growing nationalist movement. Constance was more politically radical than Casimir. She imagined that Ireland could be part of an international socialist movement, and national independence from Britain was the first step in achieving that.

Casimir was a nationalist in simpler terms. He hoped for an independent Polish nation-state and fought for the Russian Empire in the First World War because Czar Alexander II promised Poland independence in return for loyalty in the war. Casimir became even more conservative over time, especially after the Russian Revolution, which resulted in the burning of his family’s estate in the Polish-settled Ukraine.

Constance and Casimir split romantically, but they continued to love one another and stayed in touch as much as the political upheavals allowed. Constance was imprisoned on several occasions – and it was in 1918 in Holloway Jail, in London, that she became the first woman elected to the British Parliament. This achievement and her leading role in the 1916 Easter Rising, the centenary of which is being commemorated this year, have been the focus of several biographies of her.

If there have been several biographies of Constance Markievicz, do we really need another one?

LA: Absolutely – and I’d say that even if I hadn’t just written one! Previous biographies have been largely hagiographical. Their versions of Constance’s life have been driven by nationalistic commemorations or directed by the ambitions of feminist history. This has resulted in polemical depictions that exaggerate certain aspects of her character and airbrush out what are considered to be her less desirable thoughts and actions.

With Revolutionary Lives, I wanted to write a biography that told the lives of Constance and Casimir in their own time, as free as possible from our politics. So, I looked to contemporary sources that had never been consulted by previous biographers.

What kind of new sources?

LA: Well, first I should say that I consulted but did not really use the Bureau of Military History witness statements, a newly available source that has been plundered by researchers looking for new angles in Irish history.

Why not?

LA: The bureau solicited interviews as part of a project to compile a state history of the series of conflicts that are sometimes known collectively as the Irish Revolution. It’s very clear that certain groups, like the ITGWU – the major labor organization in Ireland – decided on a “truth” about what happened and suppressed any dissent. For example, in their statements to the Bureau, the ITGWU-affiliated witnesses explicitly endorse R.M. Fox’s history of the union’s role in the Easter Rising and refuse to add further details.

The witness statements are also problematic because Constance was (and still is) a hugely divisive character. Witnesses who submitted statements to the Bureau were either friends who wanted to protect her legacy or antagonists who resented her because of her sex or her social class.

So, what new sources did you use?

LA: Newspapers from the period were essential to my book. That may sound like an obvious thing to say, but previous biographers have neglected them. Many historians have, too.

Why?

LA: The simplest reason is availability. Very few print copies still exist of left-wing papers such as the Irish Worker and Workers’ Republic, or Republican War Bulletin. Select libraries hold microfilm versions, but the films are very brittle and often difficult to read. It’s an outdated technology, and very little is being done in the way of preservation.

But even researchers who have access to these newspapers often ignore them, due to complex political biases that privilege majority opinion, represented in mainstream papers such as the Irish Times – which has, coincidentally, been digitized and is easy to access.

I also used Russian and Polish newspapers in order to trace down new aspects of Casimir’s life and thought – his opinions about Russian and Polish politics and his ideas about Constance’s activities in Ireland. I couldn’t have done this without the help of two expert researchers in St Petersburg and Warsaw, and a translator at a UK university.

As you mention, 2016 is a big year in modern history. How is your book relevant beyond the Irish commemorations?

LA: Revolutionary Lives is a deliberately provocative title.

The independent Irish nation-state emerged out of a series of conflicts: a major

trade-union dispute known as the 1913 Dublin Lockout; the 1916 Easter Rising; the Anglo-Irish War; and the Irish Civil War. Constance played an important role in all of these conflicts, and she believed that they were part of an Irish Revolution.

That term is debated among scholars and the public. Some believe that the ambitions of the Irish Revolution were thwarted by a counter-revolution in the form of the Provisional Government and subsequent governments, which retracted the socialist policies declared in the 1916 Proclamation, to which Irish Republicans remained loyal. Others believe that the independent nation-state that emerged was the product of a Revolution. (This view involves ignoring, for the most part, the Irish Civil War.) Still others believe that the events of 1913-1923 were not part of a cohesive “revolution”, so the term is inaccurate.

But the “Irish Revolution” is just one part of the story. Constance and Casimir were revolutionaries before their involvement in their respective national struggles. They were part of an avant-garde culture that revolutionized sexual politics and modern art.

Revolutionary Lives tells a story that is much bigger than Ireland or Poland. It’s a story of a couple that refused to be bound by national borders, a story of cosmopolitans whose contributions to culture and to politics created the world in which we live.

Lauren Arrington is senior lecturer at the Institute of Irish Studies, University of Liverpool. She is the author of W. B. Yeats, the Abbey Theatre, Censorship, and the Irish State as well as Revolutionary Lives.

Celebrating 203 years of Grimm’s Fairy Tales

On December 20, 1812, the first volume of Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm’s Kinder- und Hausmarchen (‘Children’s and Household Tales’) was published. The Grimm’s were the most prominent in a new intellectual interest in folk stories—for them, the stories showed a national German identity. That first edition included 86 tales, with later versions adding and subtracting stories to what became known in English as Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

PUP’s edition, The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm, aggregates 156 stories from the 1812 and 1815 editions in English for the first time with beautiful illustrations by award-winning artist Andrea Dezsö. From now until December 31 save 40% when you purchase it on our website. Enjoy the stories that have been inspiring readers for more than 200 years!

Grimm

The Tangled Trials of John Demjanjuk

Lawrence Douglas’s The Right Wrong Man centers on the extraordinary case of John Demjanjuk: twice stripped of US citizenship and deported to face trial for crimes against humanity; sentenced to death in Israel, but freed when mistaken identity was proven; then convicted a second time in a German court as accessory to the murder of 28,000 Jews at the Sobibor death camp. Demjanjuk’s case provides a prism through which Douglas explores the challenges faced in establishing a legal framework within which to try those responsible for the Holocaust. Even in outline, the tangled succession of legal proceedings that continued for the last thirty-five years of Demjanjuk’s long life is fascinating and thought-provoking.

Iwan Demjanjuk was born in 1920 in the Ukraine. Drafted into the Red Army in 1941, he was taken as a prisoner of war in the Battle of the Kerch. Rather than imprisonment, he took the option of working for his captors as a camp guard, serving at Majdanek, Sobibor, and Flossenbürg. The end of the war found him in Germany, one of the millions left homeless or stateless. He was granted a visa under the Displaced Persons program and arrived in the US in 1952. In 1958, he became a naturalized citizen and changed his name to John.

Trawniki ID card for John Demjanjuk

Demjanjuk’s ID card from Trawniki, the SS training facility for volunteer guards.
Demjanjuk’s defense claimed it was a KGB forgery.
Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Demjanjuk’s troubles began in 1975 when his name appeared on a (Soviet sourced) list of 70 Ukrainians guilty of war crimes living in the US. The INS decided to pursue denaturalization on the basis that he had lied on his visa application in claiming no involvement with the Nazi camps. Matters became more complicated when no fewer than ten survivors from the Treblinka death camp identified his picture as that of the notoriously sadistic and brutal camp guard known as Ivan the Terrible. He was denaturalized in 1981, and deportation proceedings followed. While his appeals against deportation went through the US courts, Israel filed for extradition so that Demjanjuk could face trial in Jerusalem. In 1986 he was extradited – by then four of the eyewitnesses who had linked him with Treblinka had passed away.

His trial in Israel was a public event on the scale of Eichmann’s trial in 1961. Despite moments of high courtroom drama, Demjanjuk maintained his innocence, confident in the knowledge that he had never been to Treblinka, could not be Ivan the Terrible. Nevertheless, on April 18th 1988 he was convicted and sentenced to execution. More than five years later his sentence was overturned by the Israeli Supreme Court on the basis of documents newly discovered in the Soviet archives that indicated that another Iwan, Iwan Marchenko, had run the Treblinka gas chambers. Demjanjuk was granted re-entry to the US, and the order of denaturalization vacated.

Unfortunately for Demjanjuk, the Soviet archival documents that had saved his life clearly linked him to the three camps at which he had worked. Moreover, despite strong criticism of the Office of Special Investigations (OSI) that had prepared the original case for denaturalization, Judge Matia had vacated his denaturalization order “without prejudice”, allowing fresh proceedings to be brought. This the OSI duly did. In 2002 Demjanjuk was again stripped of US citizenship and deportation proceedings followed in 2004.

However it was not until 2009 that a country willing to take the deportee was found – on March 10th, 2009, German courts issued a warrant for his arrest, and in November Demjanjuk’s final trial began in Munich. The German court concluded that as a guard at Sobibor Demjanjuk had necessarily been involved in the murder of 28,060 people and sentenced him to five years imprisonment. In 2012, still awaiting appeal of the German verdict, Demjanjuk died in a nursing home in Bavaria. Demjanjuk never admitted any guilt or culpability, claiming to the very end that he was the wrong man.

An award-winning novelist as well as legal scholar, Douglas offers a compulsively readable history of Demjanjuk’s bizarre case. The Right Wrong Man is both a gripping eyewitness account of the last major Holocaust trial to galvanize world attention and a vital meditation on the law’s effort to bring legal closure to the most horrific chapter in modern history.

Children’s Literature for Grownups #ReadUp

Have you ever found yourself returning to a book considered “children’s literature?” There’s just something about our favorite children’s books that can draw us in. What’s with the magnetism? Children’s books are a part of our literary foundation, and some of the best ones hold a special place in our hearts. Or is it something more?

k10538Remember reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland? First published in 1865, PUP is publishing a new edition in honor of the 150th anniversary, illustrated by none other than the famous surrealist, Salvador Dalí.

The whimsical world of Wonderland holds a special charm for both children and adults. You can bet more adults will be purchasing this item for themselves than for their children, both for the sense of nostalgia and for the promise of new things that children’s books inevitably hold. This promise is much more prominent in children’s books than it is in adult books because children’s books are written differently. They are written with the idea that they will likely be revisited, often including multiple layers and facets. Just ask Neil Gaiman. In a recent article, Gaiman notes that “When I’m writing for kids, I’m always assuming that a story, if it is loved, is going to be re-read. So I try and be much more conscious of it than I am with adults.”

Re-reading a children’s book as an adult brings the gift of new perspective. Would you read A Wrinkle in Time or The Hobbit the same way now as you did when you were 10? We might find and identify common themes, or develop sympathies for characters we formerly loved to hate. When we revisit these stories later in life, we read them with a new lens, one altered by experience and time, often picking up on new and interesting tidbits that we never knew existed. This is particularly true of fairy tales. If these Disney-esque stories are meant for children, why do we, as adults, enjoy them so much? The answer probably lies in their adult origins. One of PUP’s most popular recent books is The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm: The Complete First Edition. The first edition. Take note.k10300

AndreaDezso_BrothersGrimm3As David Barnett states in The Guardian in a piece titled, Adult content warning: beware fairy stories, “Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm . . . did not set out to collect the stories that bear their name in order to entertain children. They were primarily collectors and philologists, who assembled their tales as part of a life’s work. . . . And they were surprised when the adults who bought their collections of fairy tales to read to their children began to complain about the adult nature of the content.”

These stories were not polished and sanitized until much later. Originally, they were filled with violence and other adult content. (As evidenced by the picture on the above left, by Andrea Dezsö, featured in PUP’s The Original Folk and Fairy Tales of the Brothers Grimm). This image is from a tale entitled Herr Fix-It-Up. Herr Fix-It-Up must complete tasks denoted by a lord and king in order to win the lord his princess bride. One of the tasks is to kill a unicorn that’s been “causing a great deal of damage.” By today’s standards, beheading of unicorns is hardly the stuff of children’s tales, but these tales are more sociological accounts than children’s stories, reflecting the sensibilities of the time period and place in which they were written.

UntitledOthk10312er “children’s” books expand on this very aspect of fairy tales, including The Fourth Pig by Naomi Mitchison. Mitchison takes many of the classic tales of our childhood including Hansel and Gretel and The Little Mermaid and re-imagines them for an older audience.

As a fairly new member of the press, it never occurred to me that some titles on our list would include some of my old favorites. What children’s books do you love more as an adult?

 

You can take a tour of the gorgeous interior of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland here:

 

 

Feature image by Steve Czajka – https://www.flickr.com/photos/steveczajka/11392783794

Frontispiece designed by Gertrude Hermes

 

On Stalin’s Team

Stalin, Voroshilov, Mikoyan, and Molotov on the eighteenth anniversary of the revolution, 7 November 1935.

Stalin, Voroshilov, Mikoyan, and Molotov on the eighteenth anniversary of the revolution,
7 November 1935. © RIA Novosti.

The title alone of Sheila Fitzpatrick’s On Stalin’s Team is enough to surprise: Stalin, the great dictator, instigator of purges, the gulags, the Great Terror, was a member of a team? Yet Fitzpatrick demonstrates that this was in fact the case, that across nearly three decades Stalin worked closely with the same small group of men, and that this team even survived Stalin’s decline and death by some years. Who were these men? Their names are in danger of disappearing into the footnotes of history—but for the ballet company that carries his name, Kirov might be entirely forgotten. The image of Khrushchev at the United Nations, hammering on his desk with his shoe, is still vivid, but what do we now know of Molotov, Mikoyan, Kaganovich, Beria, and the others? They were not flamboyant figures—like Stalin himself, they were organization men, secretaries, administrators. Trotsky abused Molotov as one of “the Party bureaucracy without souls, whose stone bottoms crush all manifestations of free initiative and free creativity”. “We can’t all be geniuses, comrade Trotsky”, Molotov primly responded. It is notable that only one of the team was a military hero, the cavalryman Voroshilov—Stalin was ever wary of the popular prestige enjoyed by soldiers, his chief rival Trotsky in particular.

Ultimately it was the stone-bottomed bureaucrats who triumphed. The team took shape during the struggle for power within the Party following the death of Lenin. Stalin comprehensively outmaneuvered the mercurial Trotsky and his other rivals, using his powers as general secretary to dominate meetings and assemblies, place members of the nascent team in positions of power, and isolate the opposition. As the team settled into power, they drove the forced collectivization of farms and the breakneck industrialization of the Soviet Union through the 1930s. The transformation of the largest state in the world into an industrial powerhouse could not be achieved by the efforts of one man alone—Stalin’s team were capable, independent, powerful operators in their own right. Not content only to work together, Stalin and his team had apartments in the same buildings, socialized together, and joined each other’s family gatherings.

Stalin and Voroshilov at a Kremlin reception, 1936.

Stalin and Voroshilov at a Kremlin reception, 1936. © RGASPI.

Living Dangerously

The subtitle of the book is no less significant than the title: “The years of living dangerously in Soviet politics.” Political life in Stalin’s Soviet Union was punctuated by a series of show trials and purges; thousands were executed, countless more sentenced to a slower death in the gulags. Team members became adept at taking the temperature of their relationship with Stalin. An unexpected demotion or a posting to a remote area presaged trouble—this was often Stalin’s first move in weakening a strong opponent. The scripted confessions of the accused in the show trials often included lists of those targeted for assassination—not to be included on that list was an implicit sign that Stalin no longer regarded you as a member of the inner circle. Family members might be arrested or imprisoned: despite his years of loyal service as Stalin’s number two, Molotov was forced to stand by as his wife was arrested, imprisoned, and ultimately exiled to Kazakhstan for five years.

But the clearest sign was the regularity with which you were invited to keep Stalin company at night. After the (presumed) suicide of his wife, Nadya Alliluyeva, in 1932, Stalin increasingly relied on his team for friendship, requiring their presence for long nightly sessions of eating, drinking, and watching movies. Despite the physical toll taken by these hard nights after arduous working days, refusal to attend was unthinkable. Towards the end of Stalin’s life, these nightly gatherings even became the scene for a subtle revolt of the team against its leader. Stalin had decided that Molotov and Mikoyan were personae non gratae—the arrest of Molotov’s wife was only one strand in a campaign undermining his position. Despite this, both Molotov and Mikoyan continued to show up, uninvited, night after night, daring Stalin to eject them. The team was closing ranks against the ailing Stalin—someone was informing the two where the team was meeting each night.

The Team Leaves the Field

After Stalin’s death in 1953 the team continued to function. Steps were quickly taken to remove the overambitious Beria—as the head of state security he was widely suspected of holding incriminating files on his colleagues, and even of having hastened the death of Stalin himself. But the remaining team members focused on running the state with renewed freedom and energy. It was not until another four years had passed that Khrushchev emerged as sole leader—ironically it was an attempt by other members of the team to oust him that propelled Khrushchev to the top. When Khrushchev himself was deposed in 1964, it was by a new generation in Soviet politics, men who had not known Stalin. After nearly forty years, the team had finally left the field.

Hamburgers in Paradise: 12 Facts

FrescoDepictions of paradise can be found throughout the centuries, portrayed as an impossible, unchanging ecosystem in perpetual motion that provides an abundance of food, water, and shade to sustain humans and animals in perfect harmony with no effort required. In Hamburgers in Paradise, Louise O. Fresco argues that the idea of paradise as an impossibly stable, diverse, and productive ecosystem has had a profound effect on our thinking about nature, farming, and food, and remains a powerful influence even today. Despite secularization, paradise is a frame of reference for what we think and do in relation to food.

Today at 2:30, Fresco will be presenting her book to Kenneth Quinn, the World Food Prize ambassador, at the 2015 Borlaug Dialogue, hosted by The World Food Prize. You can view the live stream online, and you can join the conversation online using #WorldFoodPrize.

 

A few facts from the book that may surprise you:

  • In most Western European countries, life expectancy tripled in the period 1750-2000, when food began to be available in large quantities.
  • The history of tens of thousands of years of food scarcity explains our preference for foods high in calories, proteins, and other essential nutrients.
  • All religions attribute moral and psychological properties to food. For example, the kingfisher has been seen as a symbol of abundance and prosperity, and so it was not to be eaten. In many religions fasting, or the resistance of temptation for food, is seen as the highest virtue.
  • In the U.S., the tasteless bun of a hamburger is not the norm because Americans don’t know how to bake bread, but because a certain consistency is needed to bring out the juiciness of the meat. The bun is wrapping, plate, and napkin first and a source of carbohydrates to balance out the protein of the meat second.
  • The earliest archaeological evidence of farming comes from 9,500 years ago.
  • Dependence on food introduced from elsewhere is an ancient phenomenon, reflected in the names used and the confusion surrounding them. For example, in Italian corn is called “grano turco” or “Turkish grain,” the word “Turkey” signifying oriental or exotic and not its actual origin since corn comes from Central America.
  • Without the influence of humans, neither wheat, corn, apples, nor lettuce would ever have evolved from their wild ancestors.
  • 30% of the surface of the earth is used as farmland or pasture.
  • Bread can be a symbol of plenty, but it can also be a symbol of want. There are countless examples in literature of the proverbial poor thief who steals a loaf for his family. Victor Hugo used this trope to great effect in Les Misérables.
  • Bread was so important in Ancient Rome that the killing of a baker was punished three times as severely as the killing of an ordinary citizen.
  • Archaeological remains of sieves suggest that cheese may have been made in the Alps more than 5,000 years ago.
  • In the Netherlands no more than 4.5% of people are vegetarians, in Germany perhaps 9%, and in Italy 10%.

An interview with Louise Fresco on “Hamburgers in Paradise”

Fresco JacketIn Louise Fresco’s new book, Hamburgers in Paradise, the term “Paradise”, in her own words, is “a metaphor that refers to the landscapes on our planet, the collective Garden of Eden which, according to some views, we have irreversibly destroyed through large scale food production.” It is a view shared by many in a world simultaneously plagued by food shortages and GMO fears. In such a climate, is there room for optimism? Fresco looks at our food situation in all its complexity, taking the stance that there is no one perfect way to produce or consume food, and that balance and trade-offs between different goals are central to any long term solution. You can see her TED talk here, and the English subtitled version to a documentary she made about the food industry here. Recently Fresco took some time to answer some questions about her book.

What’s new in this book?

LF: Human history has been one of continuous scarcity. The abundance of food that has emerged for the majority of the world population in the last decades is so unique that we have not yet learnt to deal with it. We are still scared that there will not be enough, and that we will destroy our environment. Scarcity is our default mode, and that of our bodies, hence our difficulties to balance our diets and to reduce our ecological footprint. Abundance is a triumph of science and trade; it allows us to shed our fears of shortages. But the book argues that we require new ways of thinking, to reign in our needs (for example of meat) while producing food sustainably for all, with new methods (for example through recycling or using algae). The book demonstrates in detail that there is not one perfect way to produce and consume food, but that we always have to balance the trade-offs between different goals, such as large scale production (i.e. low food prices) and biodiversity. What is best depends on our goals and our insight in unintended side effects (we may like to see free roaming chickens but they may be more prone to disease that way).

Can you explain the title Hamburgers in Paradise?

LF: The title refers to a thought experiment: if Eve were alive today, what food would she offer Adam as a temptation? Paradise as a metaphor also refers to the landscapes on our planet, the collective Garden of Eden which, according to some views, we have irreversibly destroyed through large scale food production. These semi-conscious images of a pre-Industrial and idealized past are still guiding many of our reactions to modernization. The hamburger, of course, is the iconic food that symbolizes the rise of the modern middle class, from suburban America to places like Moscow or Mumbai, as well as the critical counterforces: slow food, vegetarian and organic products. The hamburger illustrates also the adaptation to new demands: fat and salt contents have been lowered, information on calories and nutritional values are published, wrappings are made of recycled materials and advertising to children is limited. In the most recent twist of history, the hamburger becomes popular once again in upper class restaurants, dipped in liquid Nitrogen, or in a vegetarian reincarnation.

Food is the source of much confusion today, we hear so many, contradictory stories about what we must or mustn’t eat and why. What is the reason for this confusion?

LF: Food and agriculture are the basis human survival. Food conjures up strong feelings, based on individual memories, strict convictions and long traditions, especially in times of rapid modernization. Many people, even in rural areas, are hardly aware of how food is really produced and how it lands on their plates. Nearly all of us rely on others, often far away, to feed us. Ignorance and dependency make us feel vulnerable and worried about food.

But we can also turn this around: behind every meal there is a story, one that is nearly always fascinating and often complex, but always worth telling. Food connects us with the past and the future.

Is there room for optimism?

LF: With current knowledge, we can feed nine or ten billion people quite easily. This doesn’t mean that there is no world food problem. Even if enough food can be produced this is not easy and more production does not mean food reaches people automatically. The current gap between actual and attainable yields is still enormous. At the same time, agricultural research and innovation continue to be needed to tackle specific problems of animal and plant diseases, poor soils and climate variation. The application of existing knowledge is hampered by poor infrastructure, unavailability of irrigation or fertilizer, dysfunctional markets and policy.

Food shortage is more a matter of distribution than just production. Hunger is caused by poverty, so creating employment is essential. The great improvements in agricultural production since the 1970s have benefitted the urban poor more than the rural poor. These improvements involve higher yields, through better agricultural techniques such as irrigation, leading to lower food prices that benefit those who buy food (those living in cities), while farmers selling foods are at a disadvantage. Today more than 850 million people go hungry and perhaps as many as 2 billion may lack balanced nutrition. Most of the hungry live in areas of civil war or frequent natural disasters, so peace and resettlement are priorities.

There seems to be much concern about Genetically Modified Organisms, is this concern justified?

LF: This is a very complex issue about which it is impossible to generalize and about which there are many misunderstandings. For example, if cows are fed genetically modified soy bean, their milk does not become genetically modified, even if some people fear this. The modified genes and cells do not survive the gut. What the effects and risks are depends very much on what crop or animal, what genes are used for what purpose and where. Certain problems, for example diseases in banana, can only be tackled with biotechnology, a large toolkit which does not necessarily result in GMOs. There are two types of risk, for human and animal health. While we need to continue to monitor the situation, there are no indications that GM crops lead to additional food related risks in human beings or animals. So far, there are no indications of environment effects (such as insect mortality or genes “escaping “), but ecosystems are complex and difficult to monitor. Finally, there is also the issue of intellectual property rights: while a fair reward is needed for the companies developing the biotechnology or GMOs, we must also make sure that farmers and scientists and breeders elsewhere can keep access to varieties or breeds. Here the U.S. and EU legislation and traditions do not coincide.

What about chemical inputs such as fertilizer. Are we not destroying the land?

LF: Plants and animals need food just as we do. These nutrients come nearly exclusively from the soil (and through water, transported from soils elsewhere). Only very few soils can sustain production for long periods and their nutrient reserve needs to be built up through other sources of nutrients. Whilst manure from animals can be used for this, this does not solve the problem, it just means that animals have to graze somewhere from where they take up the nutrients. Almost without exception agriculture requires fertilizer to be sustainable. Fertilizer has a bad name mainly because it has been overused in the past with detrimental effects on surface water, but in itself, if wisely used, it is a blessing. More land is depleted through lack of fertilizer than is affected through its use.

Is fast food the source of all evils?

LF: Fast food is part of a complex process of transformation of society: greater mobility, work pressures, urbanization, diversification through trade, smaller and singe households, greater affluence of young, ubiquitous equipment like microwaves and fridges people all lead to out of home eating and pre-packed meals. As with all foods, it is not the individual item that is “bad” but the pattern. Eating fast food from time to time is acceptable in an otherwise healthy lifestyle. However, fast food often contains too many calories and we should be concerned if there are no other options, In so-called food deserts, neighbourhoods devoid of shops selling vegetables, fast food is often the recourse for single parents.

What type of agriculture is most sustainable?

LF: There is no blueprint for an agricultural model that fits all situations. Agriculture is the art of the location-specific and always depends on soils, climate, geography, culture and economics. Agriculture is forever changing, adapting to new consumer demands and new technology. However, using resources as efficiently as possible is essential to avoid wasting labour, water, land, fertilizer, seeds or animals as well as reducing post harvest losses in the entire value chain. Efficiency is often misunderstood as large-scale and anonymous, but it applies at all scales. No farmer can afford to waste resources, nor can we as humanity. The World will need 50% more calories in 2030.

Would the world be better off if all meat would be prohibited?

LF: No, meat is necessary for certain groups such as pregnant and lactating women, children, the elderly and sick and of course the malnourished. Meat is not only a source of proteins but also of essential nutrients such as iron and certain vitamins (B12). Humans evolved as omnivores; vegetarians, even in India, have always been a small minority. Also, there are areas in the world where nothing else can be produced but grazing land and animals. The growth in demand for meat and fish is expected to increase faster than the growth in population, especially in Asia and Africa.

However, there are major problems associated with meat production: environmental (water, emissions, production and transportation of feed) veterinary public health, human health (diseases associated with high red meat intake and overuse of antibiotics) as well as animal welfare. These can all be solved with adequate research and regulation. Reducing meat consumption through substitution of animal proteins in healthy individuals in affluent societies is part of that.

Louise O. Fresco is president of Wageningen University and Research Centre in the Netherlands. The author of several books, she is a member of the Council of Advisors for the World Food Prize and has worked extensively in developing countries for many years. She lives in Amsterdam.

Watch the new trailer for Sheila Fitzpatrick’s “On Stalin’s Team”

On Stalin’s Team by professor of history Sheila Fitzpatrick overturns the idea that Joseph Stalin ruled the Soviet Union alone, arguing that he was in fact well backed by a productive group of loyal and trusted advisers and friends, from the late 1920s, until his death in 1953. Through Fitzpatrick’s extensive research, first hand accounts from Stalin’s team members and their families are exposed, illustrating the fear and admiration for the infamous leader that ran through the tight-knit group. On Stalin’s Team offers a rare glimpse into the political and social arena of the Soviet Union, detailing the inner workings of Stalin and his loyal team. Check out the video here:

 

Martin Sandbu talks euro scapegoating and his new book “Europe’s Orphan” with the Financial Times

Has the euro  been wrongfully scapegoated for the eurozone’s economic crisis? In his new book, Europe’s Orphan: The Future of the Euro and the Politics of Debt, leading economist Martin Sandbu says that it has, arguing that the problems lie not with the euro itself, but with decisions made by policymakers. Sandbu was recently interviewed by Martin Wolf, Financial Times chief economics commentator. You can watch the video here: