I couldn't help but be impressed with the voter turnout in the recent Danish general election. 85.8%!
And here we are in Canada with a turnout hovering either side of 60% in recent federal elections, and closer to 50% in Ontario provincial elections (although Alberta managed to hit a low of 40% in their 2008 vote).
Whether or not you agree with the result of the vote (a centre-right coalition group, with the strongly right-wing, anti-immigration Danish People's Party as the second-largest single party in parliament), that is still undeniably impressive. So, what do we have to do to achieve that?
Friday, June 19, 2015
Bend Sinister: a special (but flawed) book
I am constantly reading books (yes, books, not ebooks, books painstakingly
tracked down in secondhand stores). I read quite slowly, but it is constant: as
soon as one is finished, another is begun.
I mainly read what is probably called "modern literary fiction", along with a smattering of "classics" and a few other assorted genres. For example, in recent weeks I have ploughed through a couple of Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus books (which were found abandoned on the sidewalk, and which were, I thought, appropriately pedestrian and forgettable); Michel Faber's excellent "The Crimson Petal and the White" (distinctly superior historical fiction); Andrew Pyper's "The Demonologist" (disappointing, despite, or perhaps because of, several good reviews); Milan Kundera's "Identity" (another of his unbearably lightweight books on being, but eminently worthy in a very European sort of a way); Thomas Pynchon's "Bleeding Edge" (by far his most accessible book, but still beautifully written, and just challenging enough); and many more.
I rarely bother to mention these books in this blog, but, from time to time, I do read a special one that I feel deserves some mention, or even a mini-review (such as "Infinite Jest", "Scenes of Clerical Life", "Cloud Atlas", "House of Leaves", "Daniel Deronda").
Vladimir Nabokov's "Bend Sinister" seemed to be just such a special book. I went through a phase a couple of years ago of reading Nabokov books, having been convinced by an article that he was one of the seminal authors of the English language (despite English being his second or even third language), and that I had skimped on him. While I don't find his earlier Russian language works, like "The Defense" or even the more highly regarded "The Gift", particularly arresting, some of his later (American) books, like "Ada" and "Pale Fire", are indeed veritable tours de force of the English language, and pull no punches in their self-consciously "difficult" approach to story-telling, exhibiting an almost Joycean level of complexity, innovation and wilful obscureness. Certainly, stopping short at "Lolita", as so many people do, does Nabokov a distinct disservice (good as "Lolita" admittedly is).
"Bend Sinister" is one of these "difficult" books, although perhaps not as difficult as some. It was written in 1947, just a few years after Nabokov moved from the Soviet Union to the United States, and is widely regarded as his most political novel (although Nabokov himself tries his best to refute this is his 1963 foreword to the book). It is often described as a dystopia, but is perhaps more of a parody of Soviet-style totalitarianism, and the vehemently anti-Communist Nabokov mercilessly mocks the "Party of the Average Man" and the "Ekwilism" philosophy that holds sway in the fictional European city of Padukgrad where the book is set.
It is by no means a universally praised novel, and early reactions to it were most definitely mixed. But, as John Updike notes on a back cover review, Nabokov does indeed write "ecstatically". Whatever you make of the book's politics and its plot, for me it was the language and the quality of the writing that struck most as I began reading. Nabokov lurches vertiginously from the poetic and lyrical to the mundane and vernacular. An example of the former from the early pages:
A few chapters later, though, I was beginning to question whether this was a modern classic after all. The novel's early linguistic promise did not seem to continue, and it settled down into a more pedestrian, if slightly surreal, sub-Kafka effort, with elements of Ionescoesque absurdism and Orwellian doublespeak thrown in (although admittedly narrowly predating both of those authors).
That said, I can't help but tip my hat to a Russian émigré who is able to pull out English sentences of the quality of:
I mainly read what is probably called "modern literary fiction", along with a smattering of "classics" and a few other assorted genres. For example, in recent weeks I have ploughed through a couple of Ian Rankin's Inspector Rebus books (which were found abandoned on the sidewalk, and which were, I thought, appropriately pedestrian and forgettable); Michel Faber's excellent "The Crimson Petal and the White" (distinctly superior historical fiction); Andrew Pyper's "The Demonologist" (disappointing, despite, or perhaps because of, several good reviews); Milan Kundera's "Identity" (another of his unbearably lightweight books on being, but eminently worthy in a very European sort of a way); Thomas Pynchon's "Bleeding Edge" (by far his most accessible book, but still beautifully written, and just challenging enough); and many more.
I rarely bother to mention these books in this blog, but, from time to time, I do read a special one that I feel deserves some mention, or even a mini-review (such as "Infinite Jest", "Scenes of Clerical Life", "Cloud Atlas", "House of Leaves", "Daniel Deronda").
Vladimir Nabokov's "Bend Sinister" seemed to be just such a special book. I went through a phase a couple of years ago of reading Nabokov books, having been convinced by an article that he was one of the seminal authors of the English language (despite English being his second or even third language), and that I had skimped on him. While I don't find his earlier Russian language works, like "The Defense" or even the more highly regarded "The Gift", particularly arresting, some of his later (American) books, like "Ada" and "Pale Fire", are indeed veritable tours de force of the English language, and pull no punches in their self-consciously "difficult" approach to story-telling, exhibiting an almost Joycean level of complexity, innovation and wilful obscureness. Certainly, stopping short at "Lolita", as so many people do, does Nabokov a distinct disservice (good as "Lolita" admittedly is).
"Bend Sinister" is one of these "difficult" books, although perhaps not as difficult as some. It was written in 1947, just a few years after Nabokov moved from the Soviet Union to the United States, and is widely regarded as his most political novel (although Nabokov himself tries his best to refute this is his 1963 foreword to the book). It is often described as a dystopia, but is perhaps more of a parody of Soviet-style totalitarianism, and the vehemently anti-Communist Nabokov mercilessly mocks the "Party of the Average Man" and the "Ekwilism" philosophy that holds sway in the fictional European city of Padukgrad where the book is set.
It is by no means a universally praised novel, and early reactions to it were most definitely mixed. But, as John Updike notes on a back cover review, Nabokov does indeed write "ecstatically". Whatever you make of the book's politics and its plot, for me it was the language and the quality of the writing that struck most as I began reading. Nabokov lurches vertiginously from the poetic and lyrical to the mundane and vernacular. An example of the former from the early pages:
"The many-limbed poplars cast their alembic ascending shadow bands up on it, in between their own burnished black-shaded spreading and curving limbs."And then, just a few sentences away, the stark:
"The operation has not been successful and my wife will die."The conversations of the characters are almost equally extreme and polarized. The philosopher-protagonist Krug tries to explain his predicament to the doltish bridge guards:
"I am going to put it as simply as possible. They of the solar side saw heliocentrically what you tellurians saw geocentrically, and unless these two aspects are somehow combined, I, the visualized object, must keep shuttling in the universal night."Then:
"Now come on, do something."By page 20, then, I was hooked, and settling in for a good provocative and challenging read.
A few chapters later, though, I was beginning to question whether this was a modern classic after all. The novel's early linguistic promise did not seem to continue, and it settled down into a more pedestrian, if slightly surreal, sub-Kafka effort, with elements of Ionescoesque absurdism and Orwellian doublespeak thrown in (although admittedly narrowly predating both of those authors).
That said, I can't help but tip my hat to a Russian émigré who is able to pull out English sentences of the quality of:
"The slow languid sounds and half-hearted thumps coming from the next room meant that Mariette [a maid] was engaged in expressing her vague notions of order."Or:
"The window attempted a smile. A faint infusion of sunshine spread over the distant hill and brought out with a kind of pointless distinction the little farm and its three pine tress on the opposite slope which seemed to move forward and then to retreat again as the wan sun swooned."All things considered, it may well be a classic, even if it did not, I thought, quite live up to its initial prospects.
Tuesday, June 09, 2015
Canada now has another climate change pledge to ignore
I suppose I have to register the supposedly landmark pledge by the G7 group of top industrialized nations to cease burning fossil fuels by the end of the century (yes, some 85 years from now). Hidden deeper in the communiqué is an official recognition of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s finding that, to keep the global average temperature increase to just 2°C, greenhouse gas emissions must be reduced by the “upper end” of a range of 40%-70% by 2050 (as compared with 2010 levels).
So, the word "decarbonization" has finally been uttered by some people with real power. But the statement, much watered-down and de-focussed from Angela Merkel's initial proposal, largely though the machinations of Canada and Japan, is hopelessly vague, non-binding and distant. Each country can put its own interpretation on whether the goal is to be achieved closer to 2050 or to 2100, or even whether to actively pursue the matter at all.
It's also pretty clear that hardly anyone expects Stephen Harper - who did his level best to steer the discussion away from climate change and back towards Russia and Ukraine, and only went along with the final communiqué in order not to appear totally isolated - to actually take the commitment seriously. Predictably, a Canadian government official was at pains to point out after the meeting that Canada sees this pledge as purely "aspirational" (read: ignorable).
Presumably, the Conservatives see Canada's previous pledge, to reduce carbon emissions by 17% from 2005 levels, as equally "aspirational". Certainly, even they have admitted recently what everyone else already seemed to know: that, despite the positive efforts of individual provinces in the face of federal inaction, there is little or no chance of Canada actually achieving this pledge.
Somehow, I can't see Stephen Harper suddenly biting the bullet and admitting that the future is in renewables, not in oil and gas. I really can't see him having an epiphany and taking the initiative, and investing large sums in renewable research. He's not that kind of guy
Ah, it's all too depressing.
Naked tourists vs. Malaysan authorities (0 - 0)
I don't know who to despair about more, the Malaysian Department of Foreign Affairs or the feckless bunch of foreign tourists who have been blamed for causing a 5.9 magnitude earthquake and landslide which has killed at least 16 trekkers and trapped scores more.
It seems that Mount Kinabalu is "sacred", and the naked cavortings of the tourists on its summit were such an affront to the mountain that it responded by causing an earthquake. This apparently is the Malaysian government's official line. Yes, in 2015.
Whether the tourists (including two twenty-something Canadian siblings) were expected to know that the mountain was sacred is almost a moot point. In their single-minded pursuit of salacious selfies, they have to be considered almost as ignorant and half-baked as the Malaysian authorities.
No-one comes out of this report looking good.
It seems that Mount Kinabalu is "sacred", and the naked cavortings of the tourists on its summit were such an affront to the mountain that it responded by causing an earthquake. This apparently is the Malaysian government's official line. Yes, in 2015.
Whether the tourists (including two twenty-something Canadian siblings) were expected to know that the mountain was sacred is almost a moot point. In their single-minded pursuit of salacious selfies, they have to be considered almost as ignorant and half-baked as the Malaysian authorities.
No-one comes out of this report looking good.
43 years of solitary confinement comes to an end
It has been a long time since I made a blog entry (trips abroad and all that), but I was absolutely gobsmacked by a BBC article today about an American guy who has just been released from jail after an unbelievable 43 years in solitary confinement.
Albert Woodfox has been incarcerated in a maximum security facility in Louisiana since April 1972, where he was sent after an armed robbery charge. He was also one of the so-called Angola Three, members of the militant Black Panthers group against police brutality and racism in the 1960s. Woodfox was subsequently tried twice in the case of the murder of a prison guard (with a lawnmower blade, no less!), but was acquitted both times, and has always claimed he was innocent of that incident.
Nevertheless, he has apparently spent almost his whole prison term in solitary confinement, which amounts to 23 hours a day in his cell, with one hour a day to "walk alone along the tier on which his cell is located". In addition, he was allowed to exercise three times a week, and had severe restrictions imposed on "personal property, reading materials, access to legal resources, work, and visitation rights".
Louisiana Judge James Brady has ordered Woodfox's unconditional release, despite the vociferous opposition of Louisiana state prosecutors.
I think what is so astounding about this story is that it comes hard on the heels of some deep soul-searching in Canadian society about whether solitary confinement of any kind constitutes cruel and unusual punishment, or at the very least is all but useless as a correctional technique.
Apparently, some 80,000 inmates are estimated to be held in solitary confinement in the USA (and around 6,000 in Canada), despite the dire warnings of psychologists and efforts for its banning by UN torture rapporteurs.
Amazingly, Woodfox seems to be psychologically intact (although, of course, only time will tell), claiming to a local reporter that he is merely "excited and nervous".
Albert Woodfox has been incarcerated in a maximum security facility in Louisiana since April 1972, where he was sent after an armed robbery charge. He was also one of the so-called Angola Three, members of the militant Black Panthers group against police brutality and racism in the 1960s. Woodfox was subsequently tried twice in the case of the murder of a prison guard (with a lawnmower blade, no less!), but was acquitted both times, and has always claimed he was innocent of that incident.
Nevertheless, he has apparently spent almost his whole prison term in solitary confinement, which amounts to 23 hours a day in his cell, with one hour a day to "walk alone along the tier on which his cell is located". In addition, he was allowed to exercise three times a week, and had severe restrictions imposed on "personal property, reading materials, access to legal resources, work, and visitation rights".
Louisiana Judge James Brady has ordered Woodfox's unconditional release, despite the vociferous opposition of Louisiana state prosecutors.
I think what is so astounding about this story is that it comes hard on the heels of some deep soul-searching in Canadian society about whether solitary confinement of any kind constitutes cruel and unusual punishment, or at the very least is all but useless as a correctional technique.
Apparently, some 80,000 inmates are estimated to be held in solitary confinement in the USA (and around 6,000 in Canada), despite the dire warnings of psychologists and efforts for its banning by UN torture rapporteurs.
Amazingly, Woodfox seems to be psychologically intact (although, of course, only time will tell), claiming to a local reporter that he is merely "excited and nervous".
Friday, May 15, 2015
The worldview of the shy Tory
Another thought-provoking article in The Guardian comes courtesy of American novelist and now English resident and Guardian columnist, Lionel Shriver.
Her starting point is the lamentable inaccuracy of British political opinion polls in the run-up to the recent general election. But the main thrust of her argument concerns the concept, which I had not come across before, of the "shy Tory".
Shriver sees this phenomenon as responsible for a systematic under-counting of Conservative voting intentions in pre-election polls. This may well be true, at least to some extent, although Ms. Shriver then goes on to use the idea to score a few cheap political points.
The stereotype of the shy Tory refers to differences in the extent to which the left and the right admit to, and are proud of, their political convictions. Generally speaking, left-wingers tend to be "political extroverts", more than happy to share and broadcast their views, secure in their implicit assumption that these views are common-sense, fundamentally right, and almost certainly shared.
Conservatives, on the other hand, tend, again speaking very generally, to be more socially cautious, tend to feel out their audience before sharing their political views out loud, and typically start from the assumption that other people will not agree with them, and that their views are at best unhip and at worst downright offensive.
While both the right and the left believe they are right (as in correct), Conservatives tend to be much less confident than the Labour movement that they are right (as in just). Shriver, rightly or wrongly, suggests that this is because voting in accordance with self-interest is only acceptable nowadays for people of less than a certain income. She further points out that this situation is a relatively recent development, and a contemporary inversion of the old order in which Tory privilege and sense of entitlement was contrasted with the radical and outsider status of the left.
I don't agree with all of Shriver's analysis, and some of her reasoning I found a little trite and self-serving. But I found the base idea of a shy Tory a very interesting one. Unlike Ms. Shriver, though, I see it as a rather damning condemnation of the Conservative worldview.
Her starting point is the lamentable inaccuracy of British political opinion polls in the run-up to the recent general election. But the main thrust of her argument concerns the concept, which I had not come across before, of the "shy Tory".
Shriver sees this phenomenon as responsible for a systematic under-counting of Conservative voting intentions in pre-election polls. This may well be true, at least to some extent, although Ms. Shriver then goes on to use the idea to score a few cheap political points.
The stereotype of the shy Tory refers to differences in the extent to which the left and the right admit to, and are proud of, their political convictions. Generally speaking, left-wingers tend to be "political extroverts", more than happy to share and broadcast their views, secure in their implicit assumption that these views are common-sense, fundamentally right, and almost certainly shared.
Conservatives, on the other hand, tend, again speaking very generally, to be more socially cautious, tend to feel out their audience before sharing their political views out loud, and typically start from the assumption that other people will not agree with them, and that their views are at best unhip and at worst downright offensive.
While both the right and the left believe they are right (as in correct), Conservatives tend to be much less confident than the Labour movement that they are right (as in just). Shriver, rightly or wrongly, suggests that this is because voting in accordance with self-interest is only acceptable nowadays for people of less than a certain income. She further points out that this situation is a relatively recent development, and a contemporary inversion of the old order in which Tory privilege and sense of entitlement was contrasted with the radical and outsider status of the left.
I don't agree with all of Shriver's analysis, and some of her reasoning I found a little trite and self-serving. But I found the base idea of a shy Tory a very interesting one. Unlike Ms. Shriver, though, I see it as a rather damning condemnation of the Conservative worldview.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
The Guardian explains water
Sojourning unexpectedly in England while my mother goes through a bad patch, I have been reading The Guardian in between hospital visits, and I am reminded why it used to be my favourite English newspaper (even if it is a rather stiff £1.80, or over $3, a pop nowadays).
In amongst the interminable postmortems of the recent British general election was a particularly interesting article about water, and why this colourless, odourless liquid is such an important and unusual substance. It seems that water breaks many of the physical and chemical rules that most other substances obey, and it is this very rule-breaking that gives water the properties it needs to make it so flexible and useful.
For example, solid (or frozen) water floats on liquid water, unlike most other solid/liquid combinations, a phenomenon that occurs because water expands when it freezes. In this way, water seeping into rock cracks freezes and breaks up the rocks, forming soil. Floating sea and lake ice also insulates the water below it, allowing fish, plants and other organisms to survive even the harshest of winters, and ultimately allowing the development of complex life over geological periods of time, in spite of severe ice ages (which might well have done for life on Earth before we even arrived).
If water "followed the rules", all the Earth's water would exist only as water vapour, just one element of a thick, muggy atmosphere above a desiccated, inhospitable surface. Other light molecules like hydrogen sulphide, hydrogen chloride, ammonia, etc, exist as gases in the Earth's ambient conditions; water, however, is present in its liquid, gas AND solid states.
Water is composed of two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom. In its liquid state, the hydrogen atoms of one water molecule are strongly attracted to the oxygen atoms of other water molecules, and each water molecule can form up to four of these hydrogen bonds. This gives water molecules a cohesiveness and "stickiness" unique among liquids, and more energy than normal is needed to separate them (e.g. to boil the liquid into gas), allowing for, among other things, liquid water on the surface of the Earth. It is also this stickiness that enables such things as the movement of water through the tiniest of blood vessels, or up a plant's roots and stems. It also means that water's surface tension is much greater than that of many other liquids, which has many repercussions in the natural world.
The structure of water means that it sticks to almost anything else it comes across, making it the nearest thing we have to a universal solvent, and allowing it to easily dissolve or tear apart other compounds. Indeed, water is one of the most reactive and corrosive chemicals we know, a property that is crucial for life as we know it. It dissolves a wide variety of nutrients and other chemicals around the body, and the functioning of DNA itself relies on water's hydrogen bonds. Protein folding uses interactions with water molecules to achieve the required three-dimensional shapes.
Water has other strange and interesting properties. For example, water is at it most dense at 4ºC; due to the so-called Mpemba effect, hot water freezes faster than cold water; water is less compressible than most other liquids (even at a mile deep ocean water ia only compressed by about 1%); etc.
It really is the most fascinating and strange stuff, and I thank The Guardian for explaining some of its unique properties.
In amongst the interminable postmortems of the recent British general election was a particularly interesting article about water, and why this colourless, odourless liquid is such an important and unusual substance. It seems that water breaks many of the physical and chemical rules that most other substances obey, and it is this very rule-breaking that gives water the properties it needs to make it so flexible and useful.
For example, solid (or frozen) water floats on liquid water, unlike most other solid/liquid combinations, a phenomenon that occurs because water expands when it freezes. In this way, water seeping into rock cracks freezes and breaks up the rocks, forming soil. Floating sea and lake ice also insulates the water below it, allowing fish, plants and other organisms to survive even the harshest of winters, and ultimately allowing the development of complex life over geological periods of time, in spite of severe ice ages (which might well have done for life on Earth before we even arrived).
If water "followed the rules", all the Earth's water would exist only as water vapour, just one element of a thick, muggy atmosphere above a desiccated, inhospitable surface. Other light molecules like hydrogen sulphide, hydrogen chloride, ammonia, etc, exist as gases in the Earth's ambient conditions; water, however, is present in its liquid, gas AND solid states.
Water is composed of two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom. In its liquid state, the hydrogen atoms of one water molecule are strongly attracted to the oxygen atoms of other water molecules, and each water molecule can form up to four of these hydrogen bonds. This gives water molecules a cohesiveness and "stickiness" unique among liquids, and more energy than normal is needed to separate them (e.g. to boil the liquid into gas), allowing for, among other things, liquid water on the surface of the Earth. It is also this stickiness that enables such things as the movement of water through the tiniest of blood vessels, or up a plant's roots and stems. It also means that water's surface tension is much greater than that of many other liquids, which has many repercussions in the natural world.
The structure of water means that it sticks to almost anything else it comes across, making it the nearest thing we have to a universal solvent, and allowing it to easily dissolve or tear apart other compounds. Indeed, water is one of the most reactive and corrosive chemicals we know, a property that is crucial for life as we know it. It dissolves a wide variety of nutrients and other chemicals around the body, and the functioning of DNA itself relies on water's hydrogen bonds. Protein folding uses interactions with water molecules to achieve the required three-dimensional shapes.
Water has other strange and interesting properties. For example, water is at it most dense at 4ºC; due to the so-called Mpemba effect, hot water freezes faster than cold water; water is less compressible than most other liquids (even at a mile deep ocean water ia only compressed by about 1%); etc.
It really is the most fascinating and strange stuff, and I thank The Guardian for explaining some of its unique properties.
Saturday, May 02, 2015
Changing times in Wildrose Country
It's difficult to ignore the electoral seismic shift that appears to be occurring in Alberta in the run-up to next week's provincial elections. Even Ontarians like me are stopping to gape.
The Progressive Conservatives have been in power there for 44 years, practically forever in political terms, and even quite recently Conservative incumbent Jim Prentice appeared comfortably set for another majority.
Recent polls, though, if you believe such things, show the centre-left NDP in majority territory, with the Conservatives languishing back in a distant third place, with only the Wildrose Party for company. Of course, polls being polls, nothing about this is certain. In the last Alberta election in 2012, all the polls were predicting a win for the Wildroae Party, until election day, when they were't.
It's difficult to put a finger on exactly what is souring the mood in conservative Alberta. It could just be as simple, and as wrong-headed, as blaming the incumbents for the worldwide fall in oil prices, which has decimated the province's finances. Or a more considered slap in the face for the Conservatives' lack of foresight in developing an economy so tied to oil, and in not putting aside contingency reserves while times were good (and they were VERY good). Even taking into account the changing demographics of the province, and particularly of its larger cities, I don't think the populace has suddenly had a communal change of heart and seen the innate wisdom of the NDP platform. This is at best a protest vote, designed to deliver a sharp wake-up call.
My own feeling is that, when push comes to shove next week, the redneck population of Alberta - which is substantial - will balk, and the NDP will squeak in with a minority. But even that will be a big deal in Alberta, which in many more ways than one is the Texas of Canada. The times certainly are a-changin'...
The Progressive Conservatives have been in power there for 44 years, practically forever in political terms, and even quite recently Conservative incumbent Jim Prentice appeared comfortably set for another majority.
Recent polls, though, if you believe such things, show the centre-left NDP in majority territory, with the Conservatives languishing back in a distant third place, with only the Wildrose Party for company. Of course, polls being polls, nothing about this is certain. In the last Alberta election in 2012, all the polls were predicting a win for the Wildroae Party, until election day, when they were't.
It's difficult to put a finger on exactly what is souring the mood in conservative Alberta. It could just be as simple, and as wrong-headed, as blaming the incumbents for the worldwide fall in oil prices, which has decimated the province's finances. Or a more considered slap in the face for the Conservatives' lack of foresight in developing an economy so tied to oil, and in not putting aside contingency reserves while times were good (and they were VERY good). Even taking into account the changing demographics of the province, and particularly of its larger cities, I don't think the populace has suddenly had a communal change of heart and seen the innate wisdom of the NDP platform. This is at best a protest vote, designed to deliver a sharp wake-up call.
My own feeling is that, when push comes to shove next week, the redneck population of Alberta - which is substantial - will balk, and the NDP will squeak in with a minority. But even that will be a big deal in Alberta, which in many more ways than one is the Texas of Canada. The times certainly are a-changin'...