Great Lives

“Great Lives” on BBC Radio 4 is a long favourite programme, though these days I often miss the scheduled broadcast and listen to it as a podcast. It doesn’t often disappoint, and this concerning Frank Ramsey was no exception.

“Great Lives” BBC Radio 4 – Frank Ramsey

Matthew Parris, the presenter, was momentarily taken aback with David Spiegelhalter’s nomination; admitting to not having heard of Ramsey. I wouldn’t like to be the one to raise my eyebrows, for only in recent times has this short, brilliant life come to my attention, but Parris has encountered an associated other, Ludwig Wittgenstein, in both his own academic life at Cambridge; as an insurmountable hurdle, he says, and amongst previous “great lives”. And, I would have thought, any investigation into Wittgenstein’s life would have somehow thrown up Ramsey.

Re-listening to that 2011 broadcast, Ramsey is indeed not mentioned, but I guess in thirty minutes only so much can be said. I am surprised though; for as I understand it, the young Ramsey, took some time out from a heady Viennese sojourn to act as an emissary of sorts (at the behest of Maynard Keynes amongst others), to visit Wittgenstein in the provinces of Austria in 1923; spent some time with him, gained his trust (not an easy thing!), translated the Tractatus into English, and eventually played an important role in finally enticing Wittgenstein back to Cambridge in 1929.

This is by no means meant to be derogatory of either “Great Lives” or Matthew Parris, in fact I enjoy the program very much, and along the way I have discovered an extraordinary gallery of people. Granted, some have, to my mind, been grotesque – like Mussolini (a minor scandal that selection was a few months ago!), and some trivial – confusing a life to be celebrated with that of celebrity. And, in this special edition, Parris does contemplate the very subjective nature of defining adequately what exactly a “great life” is.

But generally speaking, an enlightening interlude – whether on radio or as podcast on various platforms – that may be light on answers, but very often suggests questions.

Pleasure in reading

Start the week with Andrew Marr and a good listen, then read on.

“Derrida, Woolf, and the pleasure of reading”

Read Derrida, should you dare! Lighter work, for sure, to deconstruct the person. The philosopher, Julian Baggini, reviews Peter Salmon’s book An Event, Perhaps: A Biography of Jacques Derrida here.

Bernhard Schlink’s The Reader found critical acclaim and a worldwide audience, but had its detractors in Germany – not an apologist work, but, if sought, excuses for a nations fall into barbarism are too easily to be discerned. His 2018 novel Olga, just published in English, received here a fairly tepid reception – a woman’s fate through the panorama of German history from the Kaiserreich through the 20th century; and character just too good to be true? History tells us, there were many more “Hannas” (the illiterate guard of The Reader) than there were “Olgas”.

Enjoyed very much (hardly a surprise!) Alexandra Harris’s perceptive commentary on Virginia Woolf’s reading habits and expectations. In Virginia Woolf’s own words, “How Should One Read a Book” from The Common Reader, Second Series. Woolf may have suggested to Schlink’s young reader (in The Reader), to keep the best of it to himself.

Reading, with all its extended connotations, may well bind them, but strange bedfellows these three. I love Andrew Marr – he can bring together disparate voices to a successful ménage à trois.

Segregation by Genre

For a couple of reasons Alex Abramovich’s piece entitled “Even When It’s a Big Fat Lie” (limited access so the link is a bit dicey) in the London Review of Books particularly interested me. Firstly, it is a review of Ken Burns’s eight part PBS documentary “Country Music”, and I had read a flattering piece in The New York Times a couple of months ago, and that Abramovich’s is not; secondly, I saw a grainy rerun of Burns’s lauded by some, and lambasted by others, 1990 series, The Civil War, not so long ago – and thought it a very mediocre work – whereby, I mean in terms of the structure and film-making aesthetic (though to be fair it is thirty years old); the historical shortcomings and omissions, as Abramovich mentions, were debated at the time by those qualified to do so, and the criticism has not abated over the years. (I should say just about everything I know about the Civil War comes from Eric Foner, and he was one of the fiercest critics at the time.)

And it is in terms of Ken Burns’s prior work, that Abramovich launches into his criticism of “Country Music”, because, whether one agreed with their perspective or not, a range of historians did contribute to “The Civil War”, whereas in Burns’s succeeding documentaries the input from historians has dramatically declined over the years, to the point whereby “Country Music” has only one, Bill Malone, and it his interpretation alone that frames Burns’s work. And, one should say, even there it seems Malone had more to offer but could only give that which fulfilled Burns’s vision.

What Alex Abramovich bemoans the most, are the half-stories and half-truths that will never add to a whole. Instead, one is left with a blurred vision of a music genre that has never reconciled its shared roots in the poor white and Black South, and instead rejoices in an (often false) nostalgia. Following is an accompanying conversation with Abramovich, that explores, beyond his written LRB piece and the specifics relating to Burns’s documentary, the wider history of segregation in vernacular music and the defining role played by the recording industry.

Alex Abramovich on the history of segregation in music in the US

Finally, this is not the same thing, but related, I think, in that it is illustrative of how music and recordings track the extreme social shifts of an era, particularly in respect to the African American experience, through the twentieth century and into the present. Recently, I read an extraordinarily interesting article, again in the NYT, that examines music – American folk music this time – beyond a matter of categorisation that tends to segregation and exposes instead blatant racism and hate, and considers the ensuing dilemma of how to deal with historical works, once popular and now despicable.

continue reading…

Amongst the great lives, one very great life

John Maynard Keynes

Most people take the economical way to Keynes! Not so me – rather, beyond name recognition, my introduction to one of the greatest economists of the 20th century came via the Woolfs, in whose lives and amongst the other brilliant players in “Bloomsbury”, Maynard Keynes played a significant role. Love it that the young British playwright, James Graham, should choose him as a “great life” in the BBC Radio 4 “Great Lives” series. I hope he retains his enthusiasm, for what great stuff there is in this life – for theatre or for film!

When new translations sound old

In the LRB Conversations podcast series, Emily Wilson discusses her recent piece in the London Review of Books (8 October 2020) (restricted access) on three (relatively) new translations of Aeschylus’ The Oresteia. One would have to say, mixed reviews; Wilson of the opinion that all fail to adequately reflect newer scholarship in respect to the state of democracy and justice in fifth-century Athens, and how that is reflected in the language of tragedy and specifically that of Aeschylus. She concludes the Oliver Taplin translation to be much the better of the three (though his introduction disappoints), and she recommends also that of Sarah Ruden (in The Greek Plays: Sixteen Plays by Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, 2017 Modern Library Classics).

Aeschylus’ Ghosts
Emily Wilson and Thomas Jones

Emphasised is the misunderstanding of the breadth of the feted Athenian model of state – a “democracy” that applied in fact only to a very limited constituency and only a handful removed from an oligarchy, and where a majority of the populous had absolutely nothing to say. In this regard, there are through the ages analogies aplenty – countries who adopt “Democratic” to their name and are quite obviously not is one example – but I specifically thought about the language of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States in which that insinuated by “men” and “people” abounded with obvious exceptions – gender, race – until the last half of the 20th century, and less obviously – through disenfranchisement – still.

My thoughts flying to the young America, are echoed in the turn of conversation to the performative aspects of Greek tragedy, whereupon it is suggested that “Hamilton”, with its use of music and dance (and I would say the “state” folklore it serves) is perhaps the best modern analogue to classical Greek drama. In retrospect, I often wonder whether Athenian statecraft and European puritanism may have always been an imperfect mix upon which to build the foundations of a new nation.

More than once, the difficulty factor of Aeschylus is stipulated to be at the higher end – though in the course of the trilogy it moderates. Should one be deterred or accept the gauntlet handed down?


An interesting afterword: Emily Wilson, referring to her translation of The Odyssey, reveals a little of her criteria for (re-) translation (one of the reasons behind her criticisms of the above): first comes the request (in her case from an editor at Norton, with whom she had previously worked), but then a careful deliberation as to whether it is warranted, and what new stuff, if any, there is to brought to the fore, and her decision being further informed by her experience as a teacher of college students in the US. And, particularly she was convinced of the need for a new translation that returned to the metrical and syntactical rhythm of the ancient text, after years of versions rendered in prose form. Further, she recognised the opportunity to present a work that moved away from a purely Odysseus centred telling and gave the story in many voices, as multi-faceted, if you like, as the hero himself.

And, an after, afterword: Emily Wilson mentions at the very end of the podcast, that her Iliad translation will include Book 10 which, unbeknownst to me (well, who would have thunk it!), has been a matter of controversy over the years; the essence of the argument being that this book was a later addition and to be, therefore, discarded by the purist. The Stephen Mitchell translation, that does just that and to which Wilson refers, was reviewed at The New Yorker in 2011 by Daniel Mendelsohn.

A philosophical mix – or fix!

Some balm for the tormented psyche (or tortured soul in shifted state)! Of which there are enough in these days of late! A bit of philosophising can never go astray; here, then, a very nice podcast (this from Spotify, but only because I can embed it here which doesn’t apply to other platforms like Apple from which it is also available) that has come my way by chance. It is somehow consoling to reflect upon the fact that so many of our trials and tribulations, that we recognise as particular to our own time, have in fact been pondered upon by our ancestors since antiquity.

The Panpsycast Philosophy Podcast

Aimed at teachers and students in the United Kingdom, some of the subject matter is fairly dense, some not so, and mostly accessible to an enquiring mind, and there could be worse ways in which to while away an hour or so. Here is the website with some further information, and from which it is easier to explore and dive into episodes of particular interest.

Start the Week…

with Marilynne Robinson et al.

Always a very good listen, but I was especially delighted with Marilynne Robinson being a guest on Andrew Marr’s BBC Radio 4 program “Start the Week” this morning. Here it is at Spotify (also available as podcast at Apple.)

Andrew Marr talks to Marilynne Robinson and Rowan Williams September 28, 2020.

Robinson discusses her new novel in the context of her wider work and concerns in the modern world; both the sacred and the profane. Her co-guest is Rowan Williams, former Archbishop of Canterbury, who speaks on the 16th century Benedictine monastic tradition; subject of his recent book The Way of St. Benedict, and its relevance now.

With such a pairing one expects the sacred to win out, but Marr ensures the more profane does not come up short. For me, at least, a very nice start to the week.

A folk’s jester goes to war

“Tyll” by Daniel Kehlmann, original pub. Rowohlt, Germany, 2017

Coming to my notice via The New York Times is publication of the English translation of Daniel Kehlmann’s Tyll. Only a couple of years old in original, I seem to recall it as being well received, and ‘Daniel’ is a bit of a “Publikum” darling anyway – hence the familiarity of a first name being enough to identify him by many literary minded sorts in Germany. My interest piqued, I have just visited the local library and duly got myself a copy; begging the question exactly where to fit it into my reading agenda!

Coincidently some of my favourite UK podcasts have recently lured Kehlmann into their studios for interesting chats that further whet my appetite. Firstly, the Arts & Ideas podcast available directly from BBC Radio 3 or at Apple Podcasts, and then there is the Times Literary Supplement Freedom, Books, Flowers & the Moon podcast also at Apple.

For a little more context and historical background, here are the Wikipedia entries for the Thirty Years’ War and Till Eulenspiegel. I’m very much looking forward to the read.