1.10.10
Above the Fray: Thoughts on V.S. Naipaul
Matthew Hinds, an IHP Visiting Research Fellow for 2010-2011 from the International History Department at LSE, sends this contribution to Past Present:
"Once again, the Nobel Prize winning author V.S. Naipaul’s latest work has been lambasted by his fellow writers. This time in a most scathing fashion, the novelist Robert Harris, in a recent review for the Sunday Times blurred the lines between personal attack and objective reflection, calling Naipaul’s Masque of Africa, a non-fictional account of the author’s travels to the continent, “repulsive.” Ever since Patrick French’s 2008 fascinating biographical portrait of Naipaul, The World Is What It Is, reviewers such as Harris have gravitated towards the shortcomings of Naipaul’s personality, rather than the writer’s contribution to literature. The insufferable egotism of Naipaul was put on full display for everyone to see in French’s biography, but should this really be such a surprise? Most writers, particularly the good ones, are more often than not unabashed egotists.
What critics have neglected in their anger is the importance of contextualizing Naipaul’s background and the correlative relationship it has had with his writing. A Trinidadian of Hindu descent as well as a resident of Britain for over 50 years, Naipaul has always viewed himself as a foreigner, even when he is “home.” Looking beyond the parochialisms of Trinidad and the Caribbean, Naipaul’s view of the world was greater than his surroundings. Publishing his first book in the 1950’s, he fought against all those who tried to pin him into categories on account of his race. Labeling him as a “West Indian writer” was a backhanded way to highlight, yet at the same time, minimize the full contribution of his work. Arguably, the unifying force behind Naipaul’s writing is the happy sense of disconnection to any one community. It has inspired his uncompromising writing style, which has no doubt resulted in him making a legion of enemies of many different stripes. Throughout his career, Naipaul’s own unique brand of iconoclasm has rubbed many people the wrong way. Once asked to comment on the fatwa against Salman Rushdie, he mischievously described it as “an extreme form of literary criticism.”
Therefore, it is no wonder that decades earlier, Naipaul was subverting stereotypes by writing such books as The Middle Passage and An Area of Darkness, both prominent works that were highly critical of the post-colonial eras in the West Indies and India. Naipaul, unlike many of his contemporaries, was skeptical of anti-colonial nationalism in terms of the corruption, poverty and politicization that animated some of these movements. In this view, his sharp critique of the emerging third world countervailed those post-colonial narratives that championed the anti-imperial struggle. This is not to say that Naipaul was a reactionary or an apologist for imperialism, as his detractors claim. In fact, much of that famous “Naipaul rage” manifests from the insipid racism and class ridden bigotry he felt when he arrived at Oxford in 1950.
So why then was Naipaul, at the height of decolonization and the growing trend of cultural relativism, more severe in his criticism of post-colonial states as opposed to the former imperialists? The reason is that given his platform as a writer, Naipaul was adamant that it also meant being above the fray of orthodoxy. When confronting such contentious topics like race, class, and country, Naipaul lives by the maxim “fiat justitia ruat caelum” -Let justice be done, though the heavens fall. In this sense, like all great writers, Naipaul has always possessed an unwavering single-mindedness; to tell the truth as he believed and saw it."
"Once again, the Nobel Prize winning author V.S. Naipaul’s latest work has been lambasted by his fellow writers. This time in a most scathing fashion, the novelist Robert Harris, in a recent review for the Sunday Times blurred the lines between personal attack and objective reflection, calling Naipaul’s Masque of Africa, a non-fictional account of the author’s travels to the continent, “repulsive.” Ever since Patrick French’s 2008 fascinating biographical portrait of Naipaul, The World Is What It Is, reviewers such as Harris have gravitated towards the shortcomings of Naipaul’s personality, rather than the writer’s contribution to literature. The insufferable egotism of Naipaul was put on full display for everyone to see in French’s biography, but should this really be such a surprise? Most writers, particularly the good ones, are more often than not unabashed egotists.
What critics have neglected in their anger is the importance of contextualizing Naipaul’s background and the correlative relationship it has had with his writing. A Trinidadian of Hindu descent as well as a resident of Britain for over 50 years, Naipaul has always viewed himself as a foreigner, even when he is “home.” Looking beyond the parochialisms of Trinidad and the Caribbean, Naipaul’s view of the world was greater than his surroundings. Publishing his first book in the 1950’s, he fought against all those who tried to pin him into categories on account of his race. Labeling him as a “West Indian writer” was a backhanded way to highlight, yet at the same time, minimize the full contribution of his work. Arguably, the unifying force behind Naipaul’s writing is the happy sense of disconnection to any one community. It has inspired his uncompromising writing style, which has no doubt resulted in him making a legion of enemies of many different stripes. Throughout his career, Naipaul’s own unique brand of iconoclasm has rubbed many people the wrong way. Once asked to comment on the fatwa against Salman Rushdie, he mischievously described it as “an extreme form of literary criticism.”
Therefore, it is no wonder that decades earlier, Naipaul was subverting stereotypes by writing such books as The Middle Passage and An Area of Darkness, both prominent works that were highly critical of the post-colonial eras in the West Indies and India. Naipaul, unlike many of his contemporaries, was skeptical of anti-colonial nationalism in terms of the corruption, poverty and politicization that animated some of these movements. In this view, his sharp critique of the emerging third world countervailed those post-colonial narratives that championed the anti-imperial struggle. This is not to say that Naipaul was a reactionary or an apologist for imperialism, as his detractors claim. In fact, much of that famous “Naipaul rage” manifests from the insipid racism and class ridden bigotry he felt when he arrived at Oxford in 1950.
So why then was Naipaul, at the height of decolonization and the growing trend of cultural relativism, more severe in his criticism of post-colonial states as opposed to the former imperialists? The reason is that given his platform as a writer, Naipaul was adamant that it also meant being above the fray of orthodoxy. When confronting such contentious topics like race, class, and country, Naipaul lives by the maxim “fiat justitia ruat caelum” -Let justice be done, though the heavens fall. In this sense, like all great writers, Naipaul has always possessed an unwavering single-mindedness; to tell the truth as he believed and saw it."
26.9.10
Letter from the New World
Second year MIS-IHP student Barbara Martin sends a note on her exchange semester at Yale:
"While my fellow graduate students are either discovering an exciting new life in our renowned “Genève Internationale”, or slowly (reluctantly?) settling back into a familiar academic setting, I find myself among the “happy few” who will be abroad this semester.
Tokyo, Singapore, Paris, Seoul, Washington, Boston… Some of us are now half a world away, experimenting life in a new environment, sometimes disorienting at first. This is an experience many of you will now be familiar with, for you come from the most varied horizons. Cultural shock is a notion most of us have personally experienced. So had I. I had lived in Ireland and in Russia, and overcome the rainy Irish winter and the rudeness of Russian bureaucrats. But every new country represents a new challenge, no matter how deceivingly “familiar” its culture can seem.
And so I embarked on a my first trip to the United States of America, this mythical land of wonders most Europeans unavowedly dream of. My destination was not a city, but a simple name, crystal-clear and exhaling a legendary scent: Yale!
And yet the place I came to was no fantasy, no fabulous realm of higher learning but an (almost) ordinary university, positively anchored in reality – albeit with this inimitable fairy-tale tinge that old stones and gothic style can confer to a centuries-old institution.
I soon found out that Yale was New Haven, just as New Haven was Yale – or not quite? Scattered across downtown New Haven, Yale is omnipresent, and the streets of this charming old town are flooded with students sporting Yale colors. But were one to stray just a few blocks away from this vast campus, a completely different picture would reveal itself: that of a de facto segregated town where the African American minority looks up in dismay and envy to the “rich Yale kids”.
Most students choose to ignore this disturbing picture, even though it always reappears at some point in one way or another – be it the Black lady begging at the street corner or the “Black males” whose misdemeanors regularly fill the police campus reports sent to every student.
I did not close my eyes on the ambiguity of New Haven. In fact, I chose – probably in a reckless move – to live on one of the “worst” streets of New Haven. But worst from which point of view? True, it is an all-black neighborhood, apparently home to a few drug dealers. But diversity does not bother me, and the friendly smiles and greetings I get every day on my way to class are something I would never dream of encountering in Geneva.
But what about classes, then? Does Yale really live up to its legend? Well, I have to say it does. Admittedly, the high quality standard of our institute’s teaching staff is only equaled, not significantly surpassed. And the same shortcomings are to be found there as well: overcrowded seminars contrast with empty classes and ineffective class registration systems leave students frustrated… However, the main difference lies in the proportions : instead of our institute’s few small scattered buildings, it is a whole town of residential colleges and campus buildings, with a library that is literally a cathedral devoted to higher learning, encompassing a dozen floors stacked with books on all subjects and in all possible languages… The campus is impressive, and so are the means devoted to the students. Not a day passes without a reception, a free banquet or a party organized by one department or another. Yes, Yale is indeed breathtaking.
And yet nothing in this world comes really for free. Luckily, I do not have to pay the exorbitant tuition fees that other students are subject to. But I do have to fulfill the other part of the contract, and study as hard as I am required to. And living up to increased expectations is not always an easy task, but it is a tremendous challenge I readily accepted.
By December, this little world will definitely have become mine, just as Geneva became, or will soon become yours. A little corner of our life we will never forget, for we gave it our best, and were accordingly rewarded.
Salutations from New Haven!"
"While my fellow graduate students are either discovering an exciting new life in our renowned “Genève Internationale”, or slowly (reluctantly?) settling back into a familiar academic setting, I find myself among the “happy few” who will be abroad this semester.
Tokyo, Singapore, Paris, Seoul, Washington, Boston… Some of us are now half a world away, experimenting life in a new environment, sometimes disorienting at first. This is an experience many of you will now be familiar with, for you come from the most varied horizons. Cultural shock is a notion most of us have personally experienced. So had I. I had lived in Ireland and in Russia, and overcome the rainy Irish winter and the rudeness of Russian bureaucrats. But every new country represents a new challenge, no matter how deceivingly “familiar” its culture can seem.
And so I embarked on a my first trip to the United States of America, this mythical land of wonders most Europeans unavowedly dream of. My destination was not a city, but a simple name, crystal-clear and exhaling a legendary scent: Yale!
And yet the place I came to was no fantasy, no fabulous realm of higher learning but an (almost) ordinary university, positively anchored in reality – albeit with this inimitable fairy-tale tinge that old stones and gothic style can confer to a centuries-old institution.
I soon found out that Yale was New Haven, just as New Haven was Yale – or not quite? Scattered across downtown New Haven, Yale is omnipresent, and the streets of this charming old town are flooded with students sporting Yale colors. But were one to stray just a few blocks away from this vast campus, a completely different picture would reveal itself: that of a de facto segregated town where the African American minority looks up in dismay and envy to the “rich Yale kids”.
Most students choose to ignore this disturbing picture, even though it always reappears at some point in one way or another – be it the Black lady begging at the street corner or the “Black males” whose misdemeanors regularly fill the police campus reports sent to every student.
I did not close my eyes on the ambiguity of New Haven. In fact, I chose – probably in a reckless move – to live on one of the “worst” streets of New Haven. But worst from which point of view? True, it is an all-black neighborhood, apparently home to a few drug dealers. But diversity does not bother me, and the friendly smiles and greetings I get every day on my way to class are something I would never dream of encountering in Geneva.
But what about classes, then? Does Yale really live up to its legend? Well, I have to say it does. Admittedly, the high quality standard of our institute’s teaching staff is only equaled, not significantly surpassed. And the same shortcomings are to be found there as well: overcrowded seminars contrast with empty classes and ineffective class registration systems leave students frustrated… However, the main difference lies in the proportions : instead of our institute’s few small scattered buildings, it is a whole town of residential colleges and campus buildings, with a library that is literally a cathedral devoted to higher learning, encompassing a dozen floors stacked with books on all subjects and in all possible languages… The campus is impressive, and so are the means devoted to the students. Not a day passes without a reception, a free banquet or a party organized by one department or another. Yes, Yale is indeed breathtaking.
And yet nothing in this world comes really for free. Luckily, I do not have to pay the exorbitant tuition fees that other students are subject to. But I do have to fulfill the other part of the contract, and study as hard as I am required to. And living up to increased expectations is not always an easy task, but it is a tremendous challenge I readily accepted.
By December, this little world will definitely have become mine, just as Geneva became, or will soon become yours. A little corner of our life we will never forget, for we gave it our best, and were accordingly rewarded.
Salutations from New Haven!"
27.4.10
PowerPoint - where do you fall?
Yesterday's New York Times article "We Have Met The Enemy And He Is PowerPoint" takes note of the growing backlash against the Microsoft tool in military circles. The main critiques presented are: that producing a good presentation takes a bit too much time; that it "makes us stupid", reducing complex ideas beyond their essence; bullet points don't permit deeper connections between subjects - everything appears linear; that they convey much less information that a brief (5-page analysis could); and finally, that the graphic nature of tool means that the creator can get away without valid analysis of the issue at hand.
While I use PowerPoint quite frequently for presentations, I would have to agree with many of these critiques, particularly the critique that it is a reductionist tool. I find PowerPoint useful in that it is an easy way to organize "true" visuals - photos, charts, etc. However, in as much as I can, I avoid using it too present the entirety of my presentation - I would hope that my interlocutors could take that away from my presentation proper!
Where do you fall on the PowerPoint debate?
While I use PowerPoint quite frequently for presentations, I would have to agree with many of these critiques, particularly the critique that it is a reductionist tool. I find PowerPoint useful in that it is an easy way to organize "true" visuals - photos, charts, etc. However, in as much as I can, I avoid using it too present the entirety of my presentation - I would hope that my interlocutors could take that away from my presentation proper!
Where do you fall on the PowerPoint debate?
23.4.10
How to present a paper
I ran across this article written by former American Historical Association President Linda Kerber on how to present a paper - I think there are lots of good tips, including on proper length, the difference between written and spoken work, and just some basic pointers. Have a look!
29.3.10
THE CONCEPT OF MIXED MIGRATION: REFLECTING ON TODAY'S MIGRATORY POLICIES, MOVEMENTS AND PARADIGMS SHIFTS
From the Programme for the Study of Global Migration:
A conference on THE CONCEPT OF MIXED MIGRATION: REFLECTING ON TODAY'S MIGRATORY POLICIES, MOVEMENTS AND PARADIGMS SHIFTS.
Date: 8-9 April 2010
Place: AJF
Full programme here.
A conference on THE CONCEPT OF MIXED MIGRATION: REFLECTING ON TODAY'S MIGRATORY POLICIES, MOVEMENTS AND PARADIGMS SHIFTS.
Date: 8-9 April 2010
Place: AJF
Full programme here.
22.3.10
The Life Raft Debate
A week ago one of my favorite public radio shows aired an interesting story on the Life Raft Debate, which has taken place under the aegis of the University of Montevallo (in Alabama) Philosophy Club for about the past 10 years. The premise of the debate, as explained on the broadcast [FYI you can listen to the broadcast streaming here; the relevant section is about 42 minutes in, but be forewarned, the point of the story is, in part, to chastize pandering in public discourse], is that the audience is on a life raft, and that they can only select one of the faculty members on stage to join their life raft, thus surviving. Each of the faculty members on stage – from departments like English, Art History, Computer Science, Math, History, etc. – have to argue why their discipline would be the most useful to the raft – a parallel with the question of “what is the value of a liberal arts degree”?
One of the history professors who participated in a past debate was quoted as having argued that, in a life raft situation, the value of a historian was to provide instruction on how to be a benevolent dictator to the dictator which would inevitably arise in the chaos of a life raft situation. While this is amusing (and nefarious!), it begs an examination of what value to attribute to the discipline of history. How about this as a springboard for a discussion?
One of the history professors who participated in a past debate was quoted as having argued that, in a life raft situation, the value of a historian was to provide instruction on how to be a benevolent dictator to the dictator which would inevitably arise in the chaos of a life raft situation. While this is amusing (and nefarious!), it begs an examination of what value to attribute to the discipline of history. How about this as a springboard for a discussion?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
