This is why I grumble about graduate school

In the history department, there is a student newslist. People can post upcoming events, articles of interest, job postings, fellowships, etc. Often, people manifest their most pedantic side on this list, I have found over the last few years. There was the great T-shirt crisis of 2008 (who knew that the proposal of a department T-shirt could spark so much controversy?), the issue of the Olympics, and now, the issue of banks. Unsurprisingly, all of these things come back to capitalism and Marx. And while I like Marx a lot (a whole lot, actually), I'm sick of people using him to dichotomize theory and practice. As Tyson has said to me, "Have they ever read the Theses on Feuerbach?" And even when I ideologically agree with the writers of these posts, why can people not keep their mouths shut in improper forums? So, with no further ado, I invite you to the petty debates that plague what is meant to be a list for social organization. NOTE: Don't read on if you get bored with or pissed off at arguments that should remain unargued.

First email:

Protest the American Bankers Association
October 27 Tuesday

Even though bank deregulation and financial speculation
plunged the economy into its worst crisis since the
Depression, attempts to impose real regulation are being
gutted by the banking lobby as we speak. Even though we threw
trillions of dollars at the banks to save them, they’re still
foreclosing on people, they’re still gouging consumers in a
thousand different ways, and now they’re handing out billions
of dollars in bonuses for new speculative trading even as
unemployment rises.

The economic crisis is a huge opportunity for progressive
change, but instead debate has been dominated by “tea parties”
and unproductive blanket condemnations of the government. This
protest is our best chance – maybe our last chance – to focus
attention on the real problems. Join thousands from Chicago
and around the nation in what should be the biggest protest in
Chicago in years.

Buses will return to campus by 1pm, but if you need to leave
earlier CTA will by happy to oblige.

Endorsed by: Action Now, AFL-CIO, Albany Park Neighborhood
Council, Americans for Financial Reform, ARISE Chicago,
Brighton Park Neighborhood Council, Change To Win, Chicago
Coalition of the Homeless, Citizen Action, Grassroots
Collaborative, Housing Action Illinois, Illinois Alliance for
Retired Americans, Illinois Hunger Coalition, Jane Addams
Senior Caucus, Jobs with Justice, Northside Action and
Justice, Northside POWER, National People's Action, SEIU
Illinois State Council, Southsiders Organized for Unity and
Liberation, UE, Workers United

Second Email: 

"This protest is our best chance – maybe our last chance – to focus
attention on the real problems."

Are banks actually the real problem? Is speculation?

Marx argued that the first place that a crisis appears-- in this case the banks involved in real estate-- in actuality was the *last* place it existed and that speculation is a symptom of an *already existing crisis.* In other words, a banking crisis is a fetish form, it misrecognizes that the fundamental problem lies in production and in the relationship between the new value added into the system aka "living labor" and the organic composition of capital. This may well be the best chance for the left to bring to consciousness the "real problems" but the real problems are not problems of finance.

Third Email:

"Did Marx know what a "derivative" was?"

Fourth Email:

"Did Marx know what a "derivative" was?"

I assume that this was meant to be snide, but I also assume
that all people posting to this site are historians, so I may
be wrong on one account, or both. Insofar as we are mostly
historians, we should probably realize that while names change
and "derivatives" become more complex, the idea of futures,
options, and speculative investment did not originate in 2008.

In fact, as anyone familiar with the history of "modern" trade
knows, stock futures began trading in the early 1600s with the
rise of the East India Company. And while the process has
undeniably gotten far more complex in the recent past, the
basic tendency to invest (when the bubble is growing) or
"speculate" (after the bubble has popped) in these options has
been around for centuries.

As has the critique of "speculative practices," "speculation,"
and "speculators." Go read Daniel Defoe, Adam Smith, Charles
Fourier, or a host of other writers who considered the
recurrent crises that have accompanied the modern capitalist
era. They all have interesting things to say about
"speculation." And they all have interesting things to say
about stock-jobbers, cheats, profligates, swindlers, and the
like. Much of it (with the exception of Smith), carries a
distinct anti-Semitic bent.

I think xxx's point is that we can continue the line of
simply protesting the phenomena of the crisis at its most
apparent level (with signs, if necessary), and take up and
continue the critique of contemporary swindlers,
stock-jobbers, and the like. Or we can begin to ask ourselves
why these crises replicate themselves with ever greater
intensity in the modern era.

And to get to that question, you probably should crack open
that Marx and see for yourself what he has to say on the subject.

Just my 4.5 cents o the subject matter. Inflationary pressure
makes words more expensive.


Fifth email: 

"Insofar as we are historians," we actually ought to
historicize "futures" instead of assuming an underlying
transhistorical constant. The changing complexity and form of
finance is very relevant to understanding the historical
particularity of types of domination in capitalism.

Also, a more nuanced understanding of Capital is that it
doesn't make sense to dichotomize between a "real" economy and
a "speculative" economy. The forms of domination under
capitalism are characterized by an intricate connection
between finance and production/labor. Of course, you might
also take a look at Moishe Postone's work for a discussion of
how domination in capitalism is abstract, i.e. the fetish is
the real.

The logic behind protesting banks' role in the economic crisis
is precisely to draw attention to the heart of capitalism, the
enablers, the institutions that allow for the increasing size
and sophistication of domination in all spheres of capitalism.


And I guarantee you that the debate is not yet finished.

I love Saturdays.

Today was successful:

1) Ate an excellent gruyere and anchovy gratin, made by one M. Leuchter.

2) Watched a couple of episodes of anime based on eighteenth-century French history and the crossdressers therein. Woo hoo.

3) Took a walk to a nearby bubble tea shop, where the proprietress gave Tyson and me French gossip mags to peruse. Who knew that Sarkozy wasn't an upstanding guy?!?

4) Ate delicious Mexican food. A rarity in Paris. Heavier on the chipotle than on the habañero, but hey, that's Paris for you. At least there were tortilla chips.

5) Went to an excellent shisha lounge with mint tea and bumpin' tunes.

6) Watched episodes of The Office.

7) Ended the night with this conversation:

Me: In order to get a French bank account, you need all your fingernail and toenail clippings ever...IN TRIPLICATE.

Tyson: How would you even do that?

Me: Tape them down and copy them?

Tyson: Would you like have to do it three times for each? You'd need like a 3-D printer.

Me: No, it's all of them ever. So you'd have to go back to babyhood and get them from when your mom clipped your nails.

Tyson: So you'd have to go back in time.
They need them to establish personal continuity.

Me: Yeah, I'm a new person every seven years.

Tyson: Right.
And they also need a sample from the pineal gland. They're Cartesians here.
Wow. That was powerfully nerdy.

All in all, a good day.

I got a job

Because that's exactly what I need right now :)

I have accepted a freelance writing position with a relatively new company called Via Her, which is designed to encourage women business travelers to explore the cities that they need to visit for work. It seems like a very good company, and I love the idea of trying to find safe, comfortable places for women with busy lives to visit while they are away from home. Having done a fair bit of traveling alone (although not specifically for business, I must say--and as my salary reflects), I completely understand the hesitation of a woman to go out on the town by herself after 7 p.m.

I'll be writing reviews of shops, museums, and (for the most part) restaurants, which will definitely encourage me to explore Paris a bit more, all while making a bit of money and getting to hone some writing skills.

In other news, on Saturday, I visited the Basilique St. Denis, where all of the kings of France are buried (with two exceptions), and I got to see the embalmed heart of Louis XVII (who died as a child, imprisoned during the French Revolution):

Cute little guy, huh?

I also got to see the tomb of all of my favorite Louis (plural): XIII, XIV, XV, and XVI. Plus, Marie Antoinette, and a bunch of awesome old medieval kings. Good stuff for a crypto-royalist like me.

Then on Sunday, I attended an event hosted by a person on OnVaSortir, a website designed to encourage meeting people in the big city. I was invited by François, a Frenchman who has enlightened me to the fact that Little House on the Prairie is quite the phenomenon among people of a certain generation in France, to have coffee with a group of other people at a café in the Marais. It started a bit coldly, when they realized that my French is, well, atmospheric rather than stellar or celestial, but after 4 hours of conversation, I ended up making a couple of friends and meeting some very interesting people. And now I have plans for another soirée later in the week.

Trés agreable et génial!

And yes, I have been doing some school work along the way. I interviewed last week for some more fellowships, and in the wake of that endeavor, I've been taking a few-day hiatus to practice my French (a.k.a. drink coffee while chatting) and keep my writing skills up to date (a.k.a. writing reviews of ice cream shops and working on my fiction). Now, if only I had spent some time going grocery shopping. The only things in the fridge right now are cheese, quail eggs, milk, butter, and some cornichons. It will be an interesting lunch.

Something other than food.

I've been sick for the last few days, and it's not showing much sign of relenting, despite the copious amounts of hot beverages and sleep that I've been indulging in. Amongst all that time spent at home, unsurprisingly, a fair bit has been spent at the computer, and as a result, I've come to share some of the recent finds.

First up, Revel in New York, which is a site dedicated to the many interesting characters filling the streets of the Big Apple. I started with Pigeon Lady, continued to the Tea Blender, moved on to the Foot Model, and I've been working my way through all these intriguing people since.

It really is quite amazing how many interesting people one encounters in big cities. Living in Hyde Park often made me forget just how many different professions and options there are out there. Even thinking about the short amount of time I've spent in Paris, I can count having met travel writers, radio DJs, wine sellers, Brazilian musicians, students, anarchists, novelists, and Little House on the Prairie fans (apparently a childhood classic for French people who are now in their thirties). And ll this in a country where it's considered rude to ask one what one "does" for a living! The world is a cool place.

Second, I've constructed a Wordle cloud (one of my favorite online thingmahoozers) for the latest piece of fiction I've been working on. No more details about the fiction, but I thought the cloud was cool enough to share. If you know anything about the Enlightenment, you can tell from this cloud that I'm into the eighteenth-century (although please note the significant absence of bodices and ripping):



Click on it for a bigger view if you so desire.

Third, I've been enamored of Charlotte Mann's continued coolness. If you haven't gotten to see her previous Sharpie-drawn interiors, you're missing out, but I came across these new gems while browsing around the internet. I would be terrified of the permanentness of the marker, but if you're as awesome as Charlotte, this is such a cool (and cheap!) decor idea. Take some time and look around on her site if you like these images. Cool stuff.







Now, back to drinking hot concoctions (ginger, cinnamon, cayenne, clove, honey, and water) and reading semi-trashy but very amusing fiction (the second of Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next novels).

Where is it?

If by "it," we're referring to excellent food and a good evening, it's apparently tucked away in an apartment in the first arrondisement. The brainchild of two ex-Seattle chefs, Hidden Kitchen is a supper club here in Paris, which brings together sixteen people fortnightly for fresh New American-style food and excellent wine. Tyson and I first spied a write-up of the club by the ever-reliable David Lebovitz several months ago, and we immediately decided to make reservations (since they are booked that far in advance). Ten courses, made from produce and meat selected at a market that morning? Plus wine pairings for each course? All for less than the cost of a fancy dinner in Chicago?

So on October 4th, we traipsed over to the 1st, entry code to Laura and Braden's beautiful apartment in hand, uncertain of whom we would meet or what we would eat, a bit nervous, but also very excited at the prospect of an interesting, fun, delicious evening. And we certainly weren't disappointed.

Now, if you're thinking that this blog deals a lot with food, you're right. And chances are, it will continue to do so. I have found that I eat better in Paris than anywhere else, even when I'm eating the cheapest of cheap produce from our local market. (2 pounds of fresh, beautiful, delicious tomatoes for 1 euro? Count me in! You can bet that I've made my fair share of bruschetta here.) But when I have a nice night out, you can rest assured that, assuming all goes as planned, I'm going to rave about the food. So here goes:

- The evening started with a glass of champagne topped with pomegranate seeds.
- Amuse bouche: Green anise doughnut with cider granita
- Roasted chicken broth with chicken liver ravioli and fried leeks
- Fig and anchovy tart with mixed herb salad.
- Mascarpone polenta with chanterelles, turnips, and braised radicchio
- Sauteed sea bass with homemade chorizo, mussels, and a garlic and lime broth (Amazing!)
- Cleanser: bourbon jello with lime sorbet and mint garnish
- Pork belly with walnut celery root purée and pickled chilies (Amazing!)
- Brussel sprouts salad
- Plum cake with chai ice cream and gruyere crumble
- Petits fours: honey salted peanut caramel, rice krispie treat, and two others that I can't remember (which tells you how good the wine was)

Our hosts were friendly and charming, and the whole evening flowed very well. And one might think that eating in a stranger's living room with 14 other strangers, who ranged from a travel writer for the NY Times to an online wine merchant, may have been a bit awkward, but the warm atmosphere and mutual love of food put everyone at ease. Not to mention that Laura and Braden (and their Boston terrier Tatie) were exceedingly kind, charming, and friendly.

I would highly recommend the experience to anyone looking for a nice dinner and nice people in Paris. This is not something that one can afford often (at least, not on a grad student budget), but I am incredibly glad that we had the chance to partake, and I'm sure that you will be too if you ever get the chance to go.


Also, I've added a new feature to the sidebar. Since I'm as much a music addict as a food addict, I thought I'd occasionally switch out some songs that I've found on some favorite music blogs. They shouldn't play automatically, which is always irritating, so hopefully this is a good way to do this.

Nuit Blanche

Last night was Paris' 8th Nuit Blanche ("White Night," or all-nighter). It's a night where pieces of contemporary art are installed and opened to the public in locations all over Paris, from 7 p.m. until 7 a.m. You can probably tell from the time of this post (10:30 a.m. Paris time) that I didn't make it to the 7 a.m. mark, but I got to experience several sites in the Latin Quarter and the Marais, have a few drinks, and get to bed by 2. Pas mal.

The night began with a trip to the Jardin du Luxembourg to see a piece by Michel de Broin called "La Maitresse de la Tour Eiffel" (The Mistress of the Eiffel Tower). Suspended above the Jardin, from which you can see the orangely lit top of the Tour, was a disco ball that would have made Tony Manero from Saturday Night Fever drop his jaw, toss on his kicks, and hustle like there's no tomorrow (the biggest in the world, reportedly). In more serious terms, it was intended to remedy the fact that in big cities, one can't see stars.

From there, we visited the Musée du Moyen Âge to see a video installation, "I feel cold today," by Canadian artist Patrick Bernatchez. It was, appropriately enough, set up in the frigidarium, and according the the information booklet, was a film with "an ambiance of a futuristic apocalypse." I was less impressed with this piece, so I would have just said that it had the ambiance of an empty office being filled with fake snow (which it was), but hey, what do I know?

I do know that the street vendors had set up along the sidewalks by the time that we left the Cluny, and convinced by the heavenly smell of grilled meats that was floating on the air, we stopped to pick up beer and delicious merguez and grilled onion sandwiches that smelled and tasted divine.

From there, we visited the Grande Mosquée de Paris, which I was very excited to see in the inside of. The mosque always looks beautiful from the outside, but naturally, it's not opened up to the public that often. This, far and away, was my favorite installation of the night. The artist, Sarkis, had created some amazing pieces in the garden of the mosque, which is filled with beautiful vegetation and stone walkways. On two walls of the garden, mirror images of x-ray dogs were projected in soft, bright blues, while a piece from John Cage's Litany for the Whale played in the background. Under the open sky, it was peaceful, reverential, and simply stunning. In the next courtyard was an equally amazing piece, consisting of a beam of light, projected from the mosque's highest tower, hitting a mirror in the center of the courtyard, sending another beam of light back up into the sky. The mirror exhaled a scent of rosewater, which was supposed to represent the symbolic union of earth and sky, and which made the whole garden area smell soft, sweet, and lovely.
I couldn't get a good picture of the second courtyard installation (the one with rosewater and light) because of the darkness and my unsteady hand, but this gives you a bit of an idea:


Walking back home through the Marais, we encountered more videos, art vending booths, television screens with art films in shop windows, a waterfall being projected on the side of a building, and a bridge lined with color-changing blocks and videos of rainbows. We finished the night with a beer at the local café, which at last call was filled with Frenchmen trying (very eloquently, I must add) to convince the barman to give them one last round. I love living in a city where public art can bring 1.5 million people out of their homes at 2 a.m., and where drunk people can string together a very fluid, conversational, and congenial case for why they need more to drink. This really is a cultured city, in the most fun sense of the word.

And now, I must get dressed because this is the first Sunday of the month, when all the museums are free. More art! Hooray!