Active vs. Contemplative

Before J.K. Rowling penned the epilogue to the final Harry Potter book, my mom, sister, and I used to hypothesize as to the future careers of the three main characters. Or, rather, of one of the three main characters, since there could be only one with whom we all identified. And the consensus among us for years was that Hermione Granger was surely going to become a professor at Hogwarts.

Of course she would, right? Was she not that instantly recognizable type -- the "smart one" -- to whom each member of my family silently competes to have the best claim as a fictional analogue? And what did the smart ones do, other than become scholars and teachers?

Then book seven came out, and the verdict was in. Hermione did not become a professor at Hogwarts. She was, of all things, a lawyer.

"Kilt," not "whupped," Part 2

Okay my friends, I now have one further theory to posit about the Tim Kaine-quoting-Faulkner conundrum. In an earlier post, you may recall, we discussed a striking moment from Kaine's 2016 concession speech, in which he cited the words of Wash Jones, from Faulkner's novel Absalom, Absalom!, and drew cheers and applause from the audience.

As noted then, it was an odd choice. In the novel, Jones is an impoverished hanger-on to the Sutpen fortune. The phrase that Kaine quoted—about being "kilt," but not yet "whupped"—is one Jones utters multiple times with variations in the novel, and always in the context of trying to revive the Southern so-called "lost cause."

Boomers

A meme-ing came across the sky. First it happened on social media used by young people. Then, it was explained to us by a New York Times article, which recaps things that happen on social media to people who try to avoid social media like the plague, but can't. Then, it was taken up by social media used by old people. Then everyone got tired of it. Then everyone got tired of the jokes about how tired we were of it. All in the course of a week. It was the "OK, Boomer" phenomenon.

Was this phrase ever actually used by young people? I have no independent verification. What did it supposedly mean? That old people's critiques of young people could be dismissed with a hand-wave and eye-roll, seeing as old people are the ones who got us into this mess to start with. Is it, therefore, an "insolent slogan" (as the Washington Post recently dubbed it - with affection)?

Another Sighting

More than a year ago, you may recall, I began to collect on this blog an unfinished compendium of literary references to Unitarianism - for, given that this is one of the few institutions in the world with which I have cast my lot sufficiently to feel that it is in some ways very nearly an extension of myself, it is also one of the few whose mere invocation is enough to fill me with a frisson of ego-validation.

I write today to report another finding to add to the catalogue. And this one was all the more gratifying for having been unearthed slowly, by inches, blowing off the dust as I went, reconstructed from its fragments like the skeleton of an ancient saurian.

Do they date?

Over the last few years, my sister has been initiating me by stages into the mysteries of "Army" - that is to say, the maenadic cult of obsessive followers of the K-Pop boy band BTS. Oftentimes, I have made no positive effort whatsoever to be drawn into these rites, but they have managed to bind me nonetheless. For whatever reason, these BTS boys are interesting, as is the global movement of fans they have inspired. My sister and I are convinced the boys are charting the same artistic trajectory as the Beatles, and are right on the cusp of entering their more avant-garde White Album phase.

One particular event this past summer drew the coils of obsession more tightly - it was when we went to see the latest BTS concert movie. Do I love their music? No - it's fine but not really my thing. Am I impressed by their dancing? Absolutely - but mostly in the sense that it inspires abstract respect, rather than deep interest. What I found myself obsessing over on the way out the theater door, rather, was a question that has puzzled and beguiled fans the world over. In my sister's telling, it is perhaps the greatest of all the mysteries that surround the boys. Namely: Do they date?

Errata and Marginalia 008: Conrad

Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim (New York: Barnes and Noble Books, 2008).

If the introduction to this B&N Classics edition is to be trusted, the second half of Lord Jim has throughout the book's history suffered from comparison with the first. As Conrad's narrative turns from a focus on Jim's failure of nerve aboard the Patna to his ultimate redemption in the jungles of Malaysia, prior generations of critics have accused the author of departing from the "serious" realm of realistic literature to enter the lesser domains of romance and adventure.

Never mind that the shift artfully coincides with the entomologist Stein's injunction to "follow the dream," as he advises that the only cure for an excess of idealism is to plunge even further into romance—even without this, I would defend the second half of the novel on terms of literary realism as well. And that is for one reason: the character of "Gentleman Brown," who is one of the most fully plausible villains in literature.