Showing posts with label Bluestockings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bluestockings. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

"Slash it! Slash it!" High Five!

The second eleven:

  • Owen thinks he's Ron Swanson. We just wish he'd eat like Ron Swanson.
  • Firefox is doing my nut in. Nine out of ten masochists say it's their web browser of choice.
  • When I first heard that Ed Milliband was standing for the leadership of the Labour Party I immediately thought of the Guardian's Steve Bell. I'm not so daft after all.
  • My longstanding loathing of Chelsea is being seriously undermined at the moment by their current away kit. I haven't been enamoured this much by a football kit in a long time. In fact, it was probably the Inter Milan away kit from the late nineties that last caught my eye. And that was a nightmare as well; I had a soft spot for Roma at the time. Thankfully the rapaciousness and greed of modern football means that Chelski will replace all their kits at the end of the season, and that wee niggle can melt away. Only eight more months to hold out.
  • I wouldn't say no to the Caramac Kit Kat (number 29), but surely the editions from Japan are photoshopped? (hat tip to 'Itziko_Supersta' over at Urban 75.)
  • 'Therese' by The Bodines kicked into iTunes last night. I'd forgotten I didn't realise until now what a good record it was.
  • My last pair of glasses lasted me five years. And, then, it was only because the dog snapped the frames and I had to get them replaced. The frames of my current glasses have fallen apart after only three months. Apparently it's the fault of the manufacturer but I bet we still get fleeced by the opticians. It rains. It pours. A bastard tsunami is coming down Ocean Parkway.
  • Finally got round to watching the first series of Gavin and Stacey the other night. Only checked it out because it turned up on Netflix Instant. I know I'm supposed to hate it because of Corden - yep, I did try and watch one of his World Cup shows - but I totally understand why it met with the success that it did. Likeable characters. Easy going humour. And Ruth Jones is a star.
  • *Beep*Beep*Beep*Beep*
  • I totally get that quote of Churchill, of "It is all right to rat, but you can’t re-rat . . . ", but I have been listening to Maximo Park again in recent weeks and I'm not embarrassed to admit it. It'll be Hard-Fi next. (Spot my gift of footballing prophecy in that old blog post.)
  • Sheila Rowbotham is speaking in New York on Friday at Bluestockings. I should try and get along to hear her speak. I last saw her speak at Conway Hall in 1998. At a commemorative meeting for the Communist Manifesto. (150th anniversary and all that.) Standing room only in the main hall and packed balconies with the other speakers including Maggie Steed, Julie Christie and an actress from Eastenders whose name now escapes me.
  • Tuesday, October 30, 2007

    New York Stories

    Catching Up (I)

    I can't believe it. My last two posts have given direct reference to New York. That must be a first for the blog. It almost gives off the impression that I'm actually living in New York.

    Why bail out now when I'm on a roll? A few more New York links, but this time of a semi-political nature:

  • Cathy Wilkerson at Bluestockings I missed this talk and I regret it. I've only popped into Bluestockings four or five times - one time to hear Gary Younge speak, and it was worth it - since I've been in NYC.
    It's probably just me but I can't help but feel that Bluestockings does have that whiff of exclusivity and 'sneeriness' about it that is one of the worst aspects of left politics. You feel underdressed if you don't have a copy of Empire sticking out of your back pocket when you walk through its doors.

    What with the documentary film about the WU a few years back, and the current raft of memoirs from former participants doing the rounds, obviously there has been a recent reappraisal and reflection of that period in American 'radical' history. I've placed 'radical' in inverted commas 'cos I think it's very much open to debate whether the explosion in violence borne out of a frustration of what wasn't going on at that time can truly be viewed as radical or progressive.

    What's interesting about the link to the Wilkerson talk is that it both challenges my instinctive SPGBism on such issues, and that Wilkerson hasn't gone down the nostalgia route with the rose-tinted spectacles about the good old days, and how they were simply misunderstood.
  • Doris Lessing - One Nobel Prize I Don’t Mind A post from Richard over at the Commie Curmudgeon that is a few weeks old but is none the worse because of it.
    Written in response to the news that Doris Lessing had won this year's Nobel Prize in Literature, Richard writes about - and has a much higher opinion of - Lessing's 1985 novel, 'The Good Terrorist' than I ever did. It's the only work by Lessing I've ever read, and I hated it.

    Lessing is a writer I only knew of in passing - mainly because of 'The Golden Notebook', and how it partly related to her experience as a member of the CPGB in the 50s - but when I read 'The Good Terrorist' about ten years ago it came across as overblown and frankly far-fetched.

    It depicted a pocket of time and a group of people that I simply couldn't recognise. They rampaged across the page like a rogue branch of the RCG who had swapped the writings of David Yaafe for a xeroxed copy of The Anarchist Cookbook, and I remembered being irritated at the time with the thought that Lessing was being given a free pass with this book because of her membership of the CP thirty years previously; Lessing supposedly knowing the psychology, motivations and dynamics of the left because she was once part of it.

    That's where Richard's post comes in.

    Despite the fact that the novel is set in Britain and relates to a ficticious Leninist group, Richard could see parallels with the scene that he was a part of in Philadelphia in th early eighties, and more recently with the anarchist circles he was moving in a few years back in New York. Those self-same circles that Richard moved in had a low opinion of the novel, and Richard's take is that: " . . . . part of the reason for their [his political friends] dislike of this novel was that its satirical depiction of dysfunctional leftists hit a little too close to home. Moreover, her character study obviously applied across sectarian divides . . . "

    I'm still not totally convinced by that line of argument, but I've never moved in the same sort of political circles as Richard. I should give the novel another try sometime. [Adding it to the ever-increasing 'to re-read' pile.] Maybe my mistake was taking the novel at its word, seeing it as a contemporary commentary and rooting it too closely and literally in the period in which it was set [1985].

    Perhaps it would be better to approach it again as a satire that could equally apply to the secular political extremism of the 60s and 70s (see above with Cathy Wilkerson) or even today where in some small quarters a religious political extremism has taken grip.
  • Bryan Palmer speaks at NYU Louis Proyect carries a report of a meeting that I attended at the Tamiment library a few weeks back. I did take some notes at the meeting but being the lazy bastard that I am, I never got round to writing them up. In truth, the notes were more for my personal use, as it's not a period or political tradition I pretend to know a lot about.
    Bryan Palmer, a Canadian Labor Historian, has recently published the first volume in what will be a major biography of James P. Cannon, the father of American Trotskyism. Speaking with ease before an audience of about 160/170 people, Palmer's central point for Trotskyist activists today was that Cannon was at his best when he engaged in broad work and the Leninist left in America that is covered in this volume [the book finishes in 1928 when Cannon was expelled from the American CP and the CI for his siding with Trotsky] was at its most productive when undertaking labor defence work in the mid to late twenties that allowed itself to break out of the self-imposed ghetto that the American Comminust movement had placed itself because of the warring factions disagreeing on the question of an open versus an underground party in the immediate aftermath of the Russian Revolution and the Palmer raids.

    As I say there was an impressive turnout of about 160/170 people at the meeting on what was a cold Friday night. The majority of the audience could be loosely termed as being part of the '68 generation and, believe it or not, I was one of the younger ones in attendance.

    Naturally being a meeting on Cannon in the labor history library at NYU it was anything but a dry academic lecture. The meeting had been sponsored by - I think - five different Leninist organizations, ranging from the Sparts to the Freedom Socialist Party to the International Bolshevik Tendency through to Socialist Action (I will have missed someone out), and after Palmer's talk part of the meeting was made up of prepared statements from those groups sponsoring the meeting on why they alone were the true Trotskyist organization in the room *cough, I'm saying nothing*, and why all the other groups were attending under false pretences. These contributions were quickly followed by prepared speeches from the floor delivered in an equally acerbic fashion from those groups and individuals who hadn't got around to co-sponsoring the event.

    It actually didn't get as bitter or as acrimonious as I was expecting [they were pussycats in comparison to the current political punch up between Galloway and the SWP], but that's perhaps because the Sparts were actually the most heavily represented in the audience and were therefore on their best behaviour during the course of the meeting, and because - as Louis mentions - the audience fell in love with the contribution from 91 year old Lillian Pollak.

    Pollak joined the Trotskyist movement in the early thirties and worked alongside Cannon, Bert Cochran and other 'names' from the early movement. You just knew that if she had wanted to she could have taken the meeting over with her stories of the movement from that period.

    This half-baked Menshevik enjoyed the meeting for all its denunciations and vanguardist verbiage, and it was nice that it ended on the warm fuzzy feeling of the IBT, the Sparts and Jan Norden's Internationalist Group briefly reuniting around the warm glow of the political memories of someone from the thirties, talking of a period untainted by Third Campism and Pabloism.

    One final thought, though: what was with the six busts of Eugene Debs in the library? Did the library not get the memo with that quote* from Debs?
  • *" . . . if you are looking for a Moses to lead you out of this capitalist wilderness, you will stay right where you are. I would not lead you into the promised land if I could, because if I lead you in, some one else would lead you out. You must use your heads as well as your hands, and get yourself out of your present condition." [Spoken to a Utah audience, 1910.]