Monday, July 25, 2011

July Anniversaries: Six Months Since the Death of Peace Corps Founding Director Sargent Shriver

I had almost forgotten:  July 18 marked six months since the death of Sargent Shriver (1915-2011), founding Director of the Peace Corps, one of the most admirable legacies of the Kennedy administration, and one of the institutions that invariably presents a positive face of the United States to the rest of the world. The Peace Corps, which, coincidentally, celebrates its fiftieth anniversary this year, has sent over 200,000 volunteers to 139 countries.


I became aware of the date because I was in Washington, DC, for a conference and happened to stroll past the Peace Corps headquarters on my way to a bookstore.

"We must seek, above all, a world of peace,a world in which people dwell together in mutual respect and work together in mutual regard."
John F. Kennedy
"The Peace Corps stands for some, if not all, of the best virtues in this society. It stands for everything that America has ever stood for. It stands for everything we believe in and hope to achieve in the world."
Sargent Shriver
That same morning I noted and was at first surprised at the sight of television trucks and a host of reporters encamped on a sidewalk up the street, apparently awaiting important news or important people, or both. I later realized that, because the building in question was Upshaw Place—the National Football League Players Association union headquarters—the throng was waiting for news of the football lockout (breaking news now suggests that it is about to end).




In retrospect, the attention devoted to the lockout was hardly surprising. Fans wonder whether the season will take place. And there is a lot of money riding on the outcome.

• For the 2011 NFL season, the owners are guaranteed $ 4.5 billion in television revenues, and the players stand to earn $ 4.4 billion in salary and benefits.
• By contrast, in Fiscal Year 2011, the Peace Corps had a budget of $ 400 million.

Of course, the Peace Corps is neither big business nor big news: it has become an accepted part of our daily national life, going about its business without fanfare, crisis, or scandal, accomplishing much with little. Maybe that's the best kind of legacy to leave.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

July Anniversaries: Execution of Charlotte Corday, 17 July 1793

On 17 July 1793, the counter-revolutionary Charlotte Corday went to the guillotine for the assassination of the radical revolutionary leader Jean-Paul Marat on the 13th.

Both became, in their way, martyrs of their respective causes: the embodiment of slain virtue for a holy cause. Commemoration of Marat assumed the status of a virtual cult, in part because of his genuine popularity, and in part because the regime encouraged it. By contrast, the veneration of Corday could at first flourish only underground and in exile.

Here, a depiction of Corday in the tumbril on the way to her death, from the first edition of Alphonse de Lamartine's History of the Girondists. The work ran to 61 "books" divided among 8 volumes, whose publication (Paris: Furne et Cie.,1847-50) coincided with the outbreak of a new revolution, in which the Romantic poet and liberal politician himself briefly played a key part. It was accompanied by 39 steel engravings of Revolutionary figures, along with a portrait of the author. The plates, drawn by Denis August Marie Raffet (1804-60), engraved by various artists, and printed by Plon, were issued separately in 13 installments costing 1 franc each, from 1848 to 1850 (sheet size: c. 19.5 x. 25.7 cm)


Charlotte Corday, drawn by Raffet, and engraved by Mme, Fournier
The image takes some liberties. The clothing would indeed appear to represent the red garment of the condemned, and we are told that she wore a scarf or kerchief. However, according to all contemporaneous accounts, her hair was, as the practice dictated, shorn before she left the prison to go under the blade. The only controversy involves whether the executioner cut her hair (as one would expect) or (as others assert) she herself boldly did so, an act that would certainly reinforce the image of stoic heroine in the mold of characters created by her ancestor, the tragedian Corneille.

In general, though, the image certainly comports with Lamartine's description of the event:
As she mounted the fatal cart, a violent storm broke over Paris, but the lightning and rain did not disperse the crowd who blocked up the squares, the bridges, and the streets which she passed. Hordes of women, or rather furies, followed her with the fiercest imprecations; but, insensible to these insults, she gazed on the populace with eyes beaming with serenity and compassion.

The sky cleared up, and the rain which wetted her to the skin, displayed the exquisite symmetry of her form, like those of a woman leaving the bath. Her hands bound behind her back, obliged her to hold up her head, and this forced rigidity of the muscles gave more fixity to her attitude, and set off the outlines of her figure. The rays of the setting sun fell on her head; and her complexion, heightened by the red chemise, seemed of an unearthly brilliancy. . . .
The cart stopped, and Charlotte, at the sight of the fatal instrument, turned pale, but, soon recovering herself, ascended the scaffold with as light and rapid a step as the long chemise and her pinioned arms permitted. When the executioner, to bare her neck, removed the handkerchief that covered her bosom, this insult to her modesty moved her more than her impending death; then, turning to the guillotine, she placed herself under the axe. The heavy blade fell, and her head rolled on the scaffold. One of the assistants, named Legros, took it in his hand and struck it on the cheek. It is said that a deep crimson suffusion overspread the face, as though dignity and modesty had for an instant lasted longer even than life.
The strong diagonal in the composition of the image, with the upward sland of the rails and sword of the pale but threatening guard in the background, emphasizes the physical and figurative upward trajectory: the orientation of the body, kneeling yet poised to rise—to ascend the scaffold, but also to redemption—and the reverent heavenward cast of the face, which forms the focal point of the image.

Even most of Corday's defenders were reluctant to voice outright approval for political assassination, but in what variously amounted to ambivalence or disingenuousness, they usually found a way to exculpate her or at least pointedly relativize her guilt in comparison with that of Marat. Lamartine found one of the most creative escapes by simultaneously criticizing the act and depicting it as a cosmic as well as moral mystery just perhaps partaking, like the actions of Lucifer himself, of the workings of the divine:
In the face of murder, history dares not praise, and in the face of heroism, dares not condemn her. The appreciation of such an act places us in the terrible alternative of blaming virtue or applauding assassination. Like the painter who, despairing of rendering the expression of a mingled sentiment, cast a veil over the face of the figure, we must leave this mystery to be debated in the abysses of the human heart. There are deeds of which men are no judges, and which mount, without appeal, direct to the tribunal of God. There are human actions so strange a mixture of weakness and strength, pure intent and culpable means, error and truth, murder and martyrdom, that we know not whether to term them crime or virtue. The culpable devotion of Charlotte Corday is among those acts which admiration and horror would leave eternally in doubt, did not morality reprove them. Had we to find for this sublime liberatrix of her country, and generous murderess of a tyrant, a name which should at once convey the enthusiasm of our feelings toward her and the severity of our judgment on her action, we would coin a phrase combining the extreme of admiration and horror, and term her the Angel of Assassination.
A British contributor to Notes and Queries nearly half a century later said of Raffet's drawing, "Her expression is proud, determined—nay, almost fierce," noting the marked contrast to the majority of (to his mind) prettified portraits, which "generally agreed in representing her as a gentle, charming-looking girl, very different from the portrait in Lamartine."  I myself find the image more cloying than fierce, but the overall representation of Corday is a somewhat peculiar one, which manages to render her at once conventionally demure and ever so slightly wild. The viewer seeks to reconcile the pious gaze and lingering youthful plumpness of the face with the wind-blown locks—which, depending on context and intent, can symbolize either girlish innocence or seductiveness—and the womanly body under the clinging drapery.

It adequately represents another type of ambiguity and ambivalence. It's a sort of Victorian counter-revolutionary soft porn: a little bondage, a little rain and wind—Joan of Arc in a wet t-shirt.


Somewhat to my surprise, last year's post on Corday's execution and depiction in portraiture proved to be one of the more popular.  Here it is again.

July Anniversaries: Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat, 13 July 1793

On 13 July 1793, the counter-revolutionary Charlotte Corday stabbed to death the French Revolutionary radical Jean-Paul Marat. The unusual setting—his bathtub—and its iconic representation in the famous tribute by Jacques-Louis David have contributed to making this one of the best-known assassination scenes, even among those otherwise ignorant of the deeper history.

Corday was convinced she was saving her country from a bloodthirsty monster. Although most historians have long ceased to endorse such a simplistic view of Marat, he certainly gave his enemies plenty of ammunition. He repeatedly called for a dictatorship as the only solution to the nation's problems, saying that the alternative was fifty years of anarchy. Above all, he was known for his violent language, which many saw as a call to actual violence.

Already in the spring of 1791, two years before the so-called "Terror," he demanded a steady stream of executions:
eleven months ago five hundred heads would have sufficed; to-day fifty thousand would be necessary; perhaps five hundred thousand will fall before the end of the year. France will have been flooded with blood, but will not be more free because of it.
As Louis R. Gottschalk, citing this passage in his biographical study, observes:
He generally dealt in round numbers , , , It is doubtful whether Marat ever stopped to realize the significance of the numbers he used. Figures seemed never to have had much meaning for him. When he wished to be emphatic he used an exorbitantly high number; when he wished to be derogatory he used a correspondingly low one. He would demand a certain number of heads at one time, a lower one the next, a higher one the next, and so one, the figures varying from day to day with no continuous progression. . . . Marat himself claimed that his motive for demanding so large a number of executions was to arrest the counter-revolution once and for all. . . . Thus, to him, what others called his thirst for blood was really clemency.
   Moreover, there is good reason to believe that Marat used exaggeration deliberately, in order to create a stronger impression upon his readers.
[Louis R. Gottschalk, Jean Paul Marat, A Study in Radicalism (1927; rpt. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1967), 121-22]
He was also capable of a lighter touch and some wit, as in this comment in the "Debates on the eligibility of Protestants, Actors, Jews and the Executioner for civil and political assemblies...":
...I don’t have the strength to make any observations on the puerile objects with which the National Assembly occupies itself at this moment, when objects of great importance call for its attention. I have even less strength to speak about the monstrous assemblage it made of members who are not eligible for civil and political assemblies.

That which M. l'Abbé Maury has never said anything that was more sensible than his condemnation of the executor of justice; and he has never said anything as profound as in his speech against the Jews; he has never said anything as ridiculous as in his speech in condemnation of actors. Let us forget the executioner. Should such a being occupy the work of the Assembly for even one instant? Should his name even be pronounced? As for the Jews, even if it doesn’t appear that they are going to take up the diverse employments of society, this is not a reason to exclude them. As for actors, the question agitated concerning them only proves the barbarity of our prejudices. They are reproached for the irregularity of their morals. This reproach is laughable when we examine those of their censors. It is a fact that comedians have more sensibility, more delicacy of feeling than most men, fruit of a more careful education. But without exaggerating anything, we don’t fear saying that their morals are those of the century. The least well-bred actor is worth as much as a courtier, and the gayest actress is worth as much as a trollop of the court. And in any case, what could be more ridiculous than to hear a man of the world, an abbot, a prelate, after leaving the arms of an adulterous woman, declaim against the morals of actors! Will we always be barbarians? Will we always be children? Will stupid prejudices always be the rule in our speeches?
(text and translation from the Marat Archive, at marxists.org)
In his journalism and political oratory alike, Marat anticipated the character of some sectors of the blogosphere, which adopt a tone of studied outrage directed against the "mainstream" media and the political "establishment." His followers were loyal because he punctured the pretensions of the privileged and gave voice to the cause of those who felt excluded, as he put it:
of the needy, of those workers who form the sanest the most useful part of the people, without whom society could not exist a single day; of those precious citizens upon whom weigh all the burdens of the state and who enjoy none of its advantages; of those unfortunates who look with disdain upon the scoundrel who grows fat by their sweat and who rudely rebuff the publicans who drink their blood in cups of gold; of those unfortunates who in the midst of the luxury, pomp, and pleasure which the lord who oppresses them enjoys in their presence, have as their share only labor, misery, grief, and hunger.
[cited in Gottschalk, 101]
Immediately following his death, Marat became a revolutionary martyr, and the subject of a veritable cult manifested in official actions and popular adulation alike. Many of Marat's erstwhile revolutionary allies had never been quite comfortable with his language or his personal ambitions, and so, like Che Guevara, he was in some ways a more valuable asset to the Revolution when dead than alive. Here, one of the typical small manifestations of the cult:

medal: "To Marat The People's Friend 1793"; uniface, copper, 22 mm (presumably aftercast?)
Watching the the scandal over phone-hacking in the Murdoch press unfold and the crisis over the US budget and debt-ceiling mount, it becomes just a little bit easier to understand the gut-wrenching resentment and anger that moved Marat to the violent words that won him so many followers. And, watching the horrific reports of terrorist attacks (Norway is the latest, though the facts are just beginning to emerge) one is also reminded that words of violence and hatred can sometimes have consequences.


A fuller account of the assassination and the cult in last year's post.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

To Protect—and Serve!

On Friday afternoon, I spent several very pleasant hours at the annual Amherst Town Employees' Annual Picnic, held at Cherry Hill Golf Course.


It's a chance for dedicated servants of the community to socialize and relax. Several of us elected officials attended, as well:  Select Board Chair Stephanie O'Keeffe and member Diana Stein and I were all there (never fear: although three members constitute a quorum, this was not a violation of the Open Meeting Law, which, although now in new and stricter form, does not pertain to social or chance gatherings where business is not deliberated).

It was nice to see such a good turnout on such a hot day (temperatures hit at least 98 degrees while I was there). It's a reflection of our democratic sensibilities that some of the town's leading officials do a stint preparing and serving the food (actually, much like the holiday luncheon at Hampshire College, where the President, Dean of Faculty, and other administrators dish out the meals).


Here, Police Chief Scott Livingstone (center) and Fire Chief Tim Nelson (right) toil at the grill.

First Candidate for Jones Library Director

Jones Library (here, undergoing repairs funded by the Community Preservation Act, fall, 2010)
It was 91 degrees (about 33 C) and humid when I left the house at 6:45 on Thursday evening and still a sticky 89 when I returned around 8:30, but in between I was in the cool, air-conditioned Large Meeting Room of the Jones Library, listening to the presentation by the first of two candidates for Director, to succeed Bonnie Isman, who held the post for some 30 years until the end of 2010.

Candidates are asked, in their presentations, to respond to the following statement, developed by Terry Plum, Assistant Dean at Simmons Graduate School of Library and Information Science (GSLIS):
Some critics of libraries claim that all of the important resources are available online, and that public libraries are just community centers with public computers.

In your view, can pubic libraries do things that patrons cannot do themselves on a computer?

And what services would you say that public libraries should offer which are typically not available at community centers?
This is of course a soft pitch, right over home plate: we all know the desired answer. No competent candidate could take a swing at this one and miss, so it’s not a question of hitting the ball, and rather, of the force and finesse with which the candidate connects and then runs it out. The hitter is guaranteed to get on base, but will it be a safe and easy single, a stand-up double, or a nail-biter of a slide into third? Or will s/he just knock it out of the park?


Trustee Sarah McKee explained the process and introduced the speaker.

Greenfield Library Director Sharon Sharry began by introducing herself to the audience in the packed hall, running through the list of her positions and experience for those who might not have had occasion to read her C.V. Although she sounded a bit nervous at the start, she also clearly came across as sincere and enthusiastic (some might say: chirpy). Presaging what was to follow, she made it clear that the human interactions were among the chief pleasures of library work. The talk was accompanied by a fairly elementary PowerPoint presentation featuring quotes by distinguished librarians, full-screen photos, and bullet points and a few well-chosen statistics to illustrate her arguments.

Her affection for libraries, their staff, and their patrons was apparent. In fact, she several times began a statement with “I love.” The main theme of the coherent and competently delivered talk was the importance of human agency: the role of the library as a true reflection and builder of community, and the role of the librarian as a sort of intellectual customer service agent (after all, we live in a consumer-capitalist society). Subsidiary points involved the library as both a good value and an agent of economic growth (did I mention capitalism?), and the role of the library in a world of changing technologies. (in what follows, I rearrange the order of some of her points.)


Libraries and "Community"

Addressing the hypothetical critic’s challenge head-on, she drew a distinction between a “community center,” which might not be free or for all, and a public library, whose duty it is to serve all residents, of all generations, social classes, and so forth. Social media, she said, will never replace face-to-face activities. Sounds good at first, but if it’s true, it is so only in a trivial sense. I am very close to acquaintances that I have known for years only through email or Twitter and other social media. The intellectual or emotional closeness that I feel has nothing to do with whether I have looked into their eyes (or even know how they look). And when I go to the library, it’s not mainly in search of “community,” and instead, of a book, CD, DVD. I can find community elsewhere. I can find those cultural resources only at a library (assuming I do not purchase them myself).

In the first place, her real point involved (or should have) not so much the contrast between “real” life and social media as the role that libraries actually do play in community life. We tend to think of the contrast between an “old-fashioned” library as a repository of books characterized by a church-like reverence and quiet in contrast to the “modern” library as social center. The historian in me wants to say: wait a minute, that distinction is false. A variety of institutions in the 18th and 19th centuries, some free, some involving payment, provided patrons with a combination of shared print resources and sociability. Moreover, the Jones Library itself was originally conceived as a sort of community center (it even had a 200-seat auditorium, lost in a subsequent expansion of stack space), then a radical idea. However, as a current long-range planning document reminds us, the focus of this community center was and is to be on culture.

Sharry noted that she had advocated a café at the Sunderland library when that idea was still relatively novel—and that it had proven to be a great success. The list of tie-ins and collaborations that she had either already created in her present post or envisioned for Amherst was long and varied. In Greenfield, these included not just Harry Potter parties, but also “knit-lit programs” (patrons knit and read together), animé clubs, and “technology petting zoos,” in which patrons could try out hardware or software before deciding whether to purchase it for themselves. For Amherst, she imagined not just collaborations with the Hampshire Shakespeare Company or the Ko summer theater festival, but, more creatively, a Bogart party at Cherry Hill Golf Course to benefit the Amherst Cinema: apparently on the grounds that Bogie loved golf. (Not so sure about the logic of that one. But hell, Faulkner liked to drink, so I suppose we could hold an event at Amherst Brewing Company.)

In the second place, what was missing was the prime emphasis on knowledge and texts. To adapt ancient wisdom: If a library is not about books, what will be about books? But if a library nowadays is only about books, what will become of it? To be sure, that point came later. It’s just that I would have made it the main one. Not everyone will join the knitting crew or the adolescent animé club, but (almost) everyone will want to use the print or electronic resources. Otherwise, the library could really become just a free “community center.” The mission of providing knowledge remains the same, but its nature and the means and setting of its delivery will change.


Libraries and the Digital Age

Addressing the argument that anyone could now supposedly obtain any text or information online, she rightly pointed out that one cannot just sit down and type a term into a search engine. Instead, one needs to understand how search engines work, why algorithms bring certain sites to the top of the result list, and how site owners know how to influence those results. If one is not savvy or just not paying attention, the outcome can range from useless to embarrassing to disastrous. She cited a number of examples. Exhibit #1: Anne Curry, who, delivering a commencement address at Wheaton College in Massachusetts, claimed among its graduates those who had in fact attended Wheaton College in Illinois. Oops. Lesson learned (as Ms. Curry put it): Never Google Drunk. (not sure how that compares with Michelle Bachmann’s announcing her presidential campaign in Waterloo, IA and claiming it as the birthplace of actor John Wayne when it is was instead there that mass murderer John Wayne Gacy first saw the light of day. But I digress.) She also said, to widespread laughter, “please, do not ever google a medical question.” You’ll die, she warned. (hate to say it but: actually, the equivalent of that one also goes back to the 18th century. Plus ça change). She also noted that the library, whether in the realm of interlibrary loan or safe and tested sites for children, provided a certain measure of quality for consumers. And it also promises to protect your privacy and civil rights, sharing your borrowing and internet history neither with corporations nor with government agencies.

Sharry was correct on all counts, although, as a historian of the book, I would have made the points in combination, and more simply (as, for example, James O’Donnell did over a decade ago): in pre-modern times, there was a deficit of knowledge and texts, and libraries and teachers were the repositories of this precious resource. In the modern or postmodern age, there is a glut of knowledge and information, readily accessible to anyone. Accordingly, the role of the librarian and teacher is less that of repository of knowledge or gatekeeper and, increasingly, that of the mentor who teaches information literacy and guides patrons in becoming informed navigators on the rising sea of digital data.



Books and Bucks

Moving from the role of the library to its social consequences, Sharry repeated the oft-made Amherst argument that the Library is good for local business: people come to the Jones, pay for parking (what’s that going to net the Town: 50 cents?), go to coffee shops and restaurants, shop at stores. Though some of my local friends and colleagues are among the major proponents of that argument, it has always struck me as at best vaguely plausible but strained and utterly unsupported. And remember that they at the same time tout libraries as a key resource for the poor, who presumably are not purchasing our lattés, sushi, or cashmere sweaters (you can’t buy cheap clothes or a bag of groceries downtown). Can both be true? Perhaps. But no one has proven the former in the case of Amherst, and no one can prove it, absent a scientific survey. (And locals differ from out-of-town cultural tourists, whose spending habits are better documented.) In any case, this is a weak argument aimed at the wrong target. We need libraries for the intrinsic cultural good they do. Period. If there’s an economic multiplier effect, so much the better. If not, we’re certainly not going to cut their funds or close their doors.

By contrast, a related point that she made earlier was superficially more compelling. She led with the assertion “Knowledge is the one true source of wealth.” It wasn’t developed, i.e. it was neither the old socialist argument that “Knowledge is Power” nor a more modern argument about the “information economy.” What she meant, rather, was that in the current context of both high technology and economic difficulty, residents rely more and more on the computers that the library provides, for job searches, printing, email, and the like. (It has also become fashionable to show how libraries contribute to the success of entrepreneurship.) Again, not a completely compelling argument, on the merits: one could set up those terminals in Town Hall or the Bangs Community Center, to equal effect.) I would have kept the focus on information literacy and mentoring.

Finally, Sharry reminded us that libraries are a good value in another sense. Employing a now commonly used approach (e.g. 1, 2) she cited statistics demonstrating increasing library usage (numbers of visits, items borrowed, program activity, internet services, and so forth) across the Commonwealth. Focusing on Amherst, she enumerated the more than 180,000 items borrowed, the some 5500 participants in adult programs, and so forth, and their supposed monetary value. Bottom line: the Town spends approximately $ 2 million in appropriations, and users get approximately $ 7.9 million in goods and services: “that’s quite the return on your investment,” she beamed. Again, a bit of a stretch, though valid in context. It’s sad but a sign of the culture and economic conditions that libraries need to justify their existence by resorting to contorted calculations of the market value of their goods and services. (value of a typical reference question in Vermont: $ 8.74. Who knew?)

The more compelling point that she made was one that lay behind Andrew Carnegie’s funding of public libraries back in the olden days: by pooling resources, libraries provide far more than the individual patron could reasonably obtain by him- or herself. As she put it in the language of consumerism (and rhyme), “your library is your superstore—and so much more.” (Ironically, perhaps, this reminds us that all those highly-touted "savings" to the patron come at a cost: the library, no less than the superstore, potentially takes revenue away from the small local independent bookseller.)


Closing Thoughts and Looking to the Future

A PowerPoint slide offered a quote from Librarian of Congress James Billington: “If we didn’t have libraries, they’d have to be invented. . . .” This signaled the transition to discussion of technology and the nature of the book, which was what interested me most. She painted a portrait of a world in flux: “libraries are permanent” even though technology, media formats, and economic conditions will change. Less room will be needed for material, but more in order to fit the needs of people using technology. (No argument there.) “Every room will be wired, and every room will be wireless.” There will be “quiet spaces as well as noisy rooms,” The Library will need to offer new services, stay on top of emerging technology, and the needs of patrons. The Library will not have a “dirty” oil furnace, and instead “clean geothermal.”

In her peroration, she declared, “a room full of computers is not a community, any more than a building full of books is a library,” and praised the library as a site dedicated to the cause of truth.

* * *

Trustee Austin Sarat moderated the Question and Answer Session

This did not add much in the way of substance to Sharry’s systematic presentation, and it probably told us more about the questioners than the respondent, but it was a chance for her to converse with residents: to satisfy their curiosity and put concerns at ease.

(in what follows, I identify by name only current or recent town officials whose office is pertinent)



People and (vs.?) Books; Paper and Digital Books

Q: Former Library Trustee Molly Turner: it is nice that you like to be surrounded by staff, but how do you feel about being surrounded by books?
A: "l love books and reading. I would love to tell you that paper will last forever." “I don’t mean to break hearts,” but the traditional paper book will eventually disappear. Although she thinks it will not happen in her daughter’s or granddaughter’s time, the disappearance of the paper book will be part of “the normal progression of things.”
Still, she doesn’t want us to think that the first thing that she would do would be to start getting rid of books. “I have a tablet but I don’t read my Daniele Steele on that—Oh, I probably shouldn’t have said that.” (the mock embarrassment pertained, of course, to the content rather than the technology)

Even if the answer was not terribly sophisticated, it was correct in the essentials, and it was refreshing not to hear another mindless defense of paper. However, it would have been interesting to hear some deeper reflections. This was actually one of the smartest and most pointed questions, which deserved a far better answer, the more so as the subject is at the heart of the topic assigned to the candidates.

I am just back from a conference on book history and science at the Library of Congress and the Smithsonian Institution. We spent a great deal of time there—in the panels, in the hallways, and in restaurants and watering holes—discussing the implications of digitization and the digital humanities. A host of questions are being passionately and continually debated. They involve, among other things, the relation between the form and the content of print and digital books, the changing nature of the reading experience, intellectual property and fairness (HarperCollins recently caused an uproar when it proposed to cap ebook circulation), changing business models, and much more. It’s fine to talk about the library changing in every regard, but then one needs to talk about the way that this affects budgets, books, and readers. The changes coming will involve a hell of a lot more than the addition of still more couches and wireless routers.

BTW: speaking of technology, at least one attendee turned around and gave me the hairy eyeball for daring to profane the sanctity of the library atmosphere by: typing. I was of course tempted to respond by saying: “Wait just a moment while I check my calendar to see what century it is.” (I had moreover deliberately chosen an isolated chair at the back of the room, beyond the last formally arranged row of seats.) This is apparently becoming something of an issue nowadays. It also featured at our conference, where we had sponsored a Twitter contest that generated some 2000 tweets, mostly by younger participants. There, too, the typing occasioned some raised eyebrows among older folks, and at the closing session, our Vice President felt compelled to tell members that they needed to adjust to a changing world. Indeed. The library is supposed to be a "community" center buzzing with activity and human interaction, but I can't type gently on my laptop?  You see the challenge we face.


The Cost of Going Green

Q: Library Trustee Carol Gray (just back from a stint in Egypt) picked up on the energy question.
Geothermal is great, but costs a lot, she noted. “How would you fund that?”
A: It’s a process and it requires funding.

Weak answer. Context: A few years ago, Ms. Gray proposed a geothermal system for the library, to the tune of approximately $ 1.8 million, if I recall correctly. The Joint Capital Planning Committee, struggling with slashed budgets in every department, did not even take the idea seriously (remember that, this year, it declined to budget one-tenth that amount for War Memorial Pool). The total Library budget, as Sharry had just noted, is about $ 2 million.


More on Books and Bucks; Philanthropy

Q: How do you view the replenishing of the endowment from private sources?
A: I need to know more: can you provide details?
Q: Does she know individuals in Greenfield who would give if asked?
A: Oh, yes: the more they feel ownership, the more they participate.

Q: Another question about funding.
A: It’s always about collaborators.
Q: Who?
A: Government: fire, police, everyone; think outside the box.


BFFs?

Q: Louis Greenbaum (former Library Trustee): How well do friends and trustees in Greenfield get along? (a very pointed allusion to the months of chaos and gridlock that made the Trustees a subject of controversy and eventually led to the retirement of then-Director Bonnie Isman).
A: Very well. She gives great credit to them for so generously giving of their time. “I send out a lot of emails, so I’m always keeping them in the loop.” Someone from one group always attends the meeting of the other: “It’s all about communication.”

Q: What about the presence of the 26-story UMass Library and the Frost Library at Amherst College: Should there be a relation?
A: Absolutely, it would be crazy not to take advantage of them. However, their missions and constituencies are distinct: “public libraries are totally different from academic libraries—ok, not totally. They have one specific mission, and we are serving everybody.”


Patrons and Policies

Q: Hwei-Ling Greeney (former Select Board member; Chair, Committee on Homelessness) asked how a public library might treat the homeless (our homeless shelter has become the subject of some current controversy).
A: When Sharry began working in the library as a college student at 18, her duties included closing the building at 9 pm, and making the homeless leave. As she told it, the experience broke her heart, so that she would go home in tears. It was one reason that she ended up studying political science at the University of Massachusetts first, and only later returned to the library as a career option.

Libraries do have to have policies that enforce order and safety, she observed. “Every once in a while,” she explained, “you do get a stinker of a patron” or someone in a bad mood, etc. 98% are good, though. Her main desire, she said, using pop management/psychology lingo, is ”to get to yes” with every patron. Some need more attention than others, and she sees no injustice in devoting more time and energy to those who require more assistance or greater understanding. It was a sensible, humane answer.

Q. Carol Gray: “What if you had some very enthusiastic teens in library,” “so enthusiastic,” in fact, that they got too “boisterous” for some?
[This was a clear reference to newspaper stories, in the last year, to the effect that teens were causing a disruption in the Library.]
A: Upon reading those reports last year, her first reaction was: “I’m jealous.” “You’ve got them coming in the door, so let’s get them involved. Can we put them to work?” “Do they want to be on an advisory committee?” Give them a task, “and suddenly they’ve got ownership.” and “there’s a lot of space in this building for a teen place.” “Love that they’re here [there’s that “love” thing again], because there are a lot worse things that they could be doing.”

Maybe, but according to the press reports, they were not only “coming in the door,” but once inside, “running, yelling, eating and throwing pizza and engaging in inappropriate sexual activity” (I leave that latter to the reader’s imagination)

* * *

All the evidence indicates that Sharry was popular with the Amherst audience (no mean trick, as we can be a tough crowd), so that sets a certain standard for Westfield Athenaeum Director Christopher Lindquist. He speaks—same time, same place—on the 26th.

Stay tuned.

Amherst Media is posting full videos within about a day after the presentation. (You get the raw information there; you get some sifting and interpretation here.) Here is the recording of Sharry's presentation.

What do you think?


The trustees will take up the issue on 2 August, and the candidate could begin the job on 1 September.

Residents can submit feedback on the candidates through 28 July online here.




[updated text, link for presentation prompt]

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

From Francophilia to Francophobia

Okay, so not everyone gets as excited about Bastille Day and Bonaparte as I do.

On the shelf in Second Story Books in Washington, DC, on Monday:


 Fun facts to know and tell:

Did you know that Death to the French (all right, under the rather more innocuous US title, Rifleman Dodd)  is on The Marine Corps Professional Reading Program List? For that matter, I'll bet you had no idea that list even existed. Read and enjoy.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Restoration of Abel Gance's Napoleon to Run Next Year

Just in time for Bastille Day, the San Francisco Silent Film Festival announces that it will sponsor a full-scale production of Kevin Brownlow's restoration of Abel Gance's legenary Napoleon biography. The 1927 film is in fact but the first of a projected six installments, and covers Bonparte's iife only up to the Italian Campaign of 1797.

As originally conceived, the film was to be shown on a triple screen, to the accompaniment of a live orchestra. The re-release of the film more than a generation ago was a revelation and a sensation, but because of the complexity of the undertaking, repeat performances have been rare.
In a prepared statement, Stacey Wisnia, Executive Director of the San Francisco Silent Film Festival commented, "This will be 'the cinema event of a lifetime' and for once that's not just hype, considering that we may never have another chance to see Napoleon presented on this scale, and with Carl Davis' magnificent score. But we're also referring to the lifetime of passion that Kevin Brownlow has devoted to bringing Abel Gance's original vision back to life."

Because of logistics and the enormous expense involved in such a production, there no plans to repeat the event in any other American city. (read the rest)



Abel Gance's Napoleon (HD) from San Francisco Silent Film Festiv on Vimeo.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

14 July: "Bastille Day" in America

It's "Bastille Day," or simply the 14th of July, as the French call their national holiday, marking the anniversary of what is generally taken as the start of the great Revolution.

Popular historian David McCullough has a piece for the occasion in today's New York Times. He begins by noting that the recent arrest of Dominique Strauss-Kahn on charges of rape "has caused some people to question the American-French relationship." Really? Not clear which people he means: the Americans? the French? both? I would have said that many Americans already had a sort of love-hate relationship with France and the French. Well, actually more hate. Just think of the populist tendency to decry things French as elitist or effete (where else would fluency in this world language be considered a drawback for a politician?), the jokes about French military prowess, and the like.  Still, DSK is just the lead-in to a very valid point that he wishes to make:
Though we will probably never see a Bastille Day when French flags fly along Main Street and strains of “La Marseillaise” fill the airwaves, July 14 would not go so largely unobserved here were we better served by memory. For the ties that bind America and France are more important and infinitely more interesting than most of us know.
He details the many reasons: crucial French help in the Revolutionary war, the influence of early French missionaries, voyageurs, and settlers, still marked by numerous place names (I grew up with and learned about them in the Midwest), the 9 million Americans of French descent, the students who learn French, our love of French food and fashion, the influence of France on our great artists, the welcoming role that France played for African-Americans when their own country was less hospitable, and of course the American soldiers who served in and for France, some of whom remain buried there.

Actually, there was a time when French flags flew in America on July 14, and that was precisely what I had planned to write about for this year's entry, so finding McCullough's essay today was serendipitous.

After the United States entered the First World War, there was a wave of Francophilia and sharing in the spirit of French patriotism.

On 13 July 1918, the Times reported,
TRIBUTE TO FRANCE VOTED IN THE SENATE; House expected to Concur Today in Resolution PraisingLong Battle for Freedom.PROCLAMATION BY HYLAN All Citizens Called Upon to Celebrate Bastile Day and Flythe French Colors. Proclamation by the Mayor. Flags to be Presented

While the moverment for the celebration in this country tomorrow of the anniversary of the fall of the Bastile, the national holiday of France, was started by an informal committee, the celebration is contantly receiving greater and greater assistance from official sources. (read the rest)
There were regional commemorations, too. In Philadelphia, Emerson Collins (1860-1933), who held the office of Deputy Attorney General of Pennsylvania (1915-23), played a leading role. He was known as a great orator, and was evidently a colorful character, as well (we are told that, whenever driving past a particularly stately mountain, "he stopped the car, got out and then declaimed, with appropriate gestures, the poem beginning: “Ye crags and peaks, we’re with you once again. . .”). Collins, the descendant of a Revolutionary War soldier, was passionately dedicated to the history of the United States, which caused him to appreciate that of France, as well.


As he began:
It is highly fitting that there should be an American celebration of this French national holiday.  There is no other place, moreover, in the whole land so altogether appropriate for such celebration as the one where we are now met. Commemoration of the event symbolizing the birth of the National Liberties of France, gains an added impressiveness here within the shadow of yonder hallowed structure within whose venerable walls was proclaimed the political Independence of America for whose establishment France contributed so much . . . .
To return to today: McCullough concludes,
Though I love France and greatly value the friends I have made there, I am not an overboard Francophile. But as an American I think it is well past time to get back to respect and affection between our countries, on all fronts and with all possible good will.

For my part this Bastille Day, I intend to raise a glass or two of Veuve Clicquot in a heartfelt toast: “Vive la France!”
I'm probably a bit more of a Francophile than he is, and today, I happen to be in Washington, another city associated with our shared history of what R. R. Palmer called the Atlantic Revolution. I'm here for the annual conference of the Society for the History of Authorship, Reading, and Publishing (SHARP), the leading international organization dedicated to the study of all aspects of the culture of the book. I doubt I'll be drinking fine French champagne (though I don't know precisely what will be served at the opening reception tonight). I may just have a customary Samuel Adams, which celebrates another revolutionary. As Pauline Maier reminds us: in France, it was he, rather than John—sent to Paris to seek French aid for the rebellious colonists—who was known as "the famous Adams."

Oh: McCullough mentioned the Marseillaise, and if you'd like to see a joint Franco-American celebration of freedom involving that song, well, then, it's hard to do better than this.


Previous Bastille Day posts:

2010
2009
2008


Updates

"Bastille Day marked with pageantry and pomp": Washington Post coverage of today's festivities in Paris

The Library of Congress (where SHARP will be meeting tomorrow) does a characteristically thorough job of digging up unusual resources for the day from its extensive holdings:

• Pat Padua, "Opera Goes to the Bastille" on "Mlle de Launay à la Bastille (1813)" a one-act opera by Sophie Gail (1771-1819).

"a hand-colored etching "Vue brillante de l'aniversaire du 14 juillet 1801, which shows a crowd viewing fireworks at a Bastille Day celebration in Paris. Notice also that a balloon appears in the upper right corner. This print is but one of approximately 975 items comprising the Tissandier Collection which documents the early history of aeronautics with an emphasis on balloon flight in France and other European countries. Vive la France!"

pageantry and pomp? not so much in DC (though there were plenty of events, as a quick web search will show):
"Bastille Day: In Washington, it's not wasted on the French" TBD, 18 July

About that lawsuit . . .

Town Manager John Musante addressing residents' concerns at a contentious meeting held at Fort River School, April 6
 As I recently noted, a group of Amherst residents is suing the town's elected leadership and several top administrators: specifically, the Select Board, which functions as a collective executive; the Town Manager, who is the chief administrator; and the Comptroller and Clerk.

The Select Board and Town Manager strongly supported a proposal to create a large solar array on a closed landfill, seeing it as a major step toward sustainability and environmental responsibility, as well as a major source of revenue.  The measure also won overwhelming support from Annual Town Meeting. However, some residents in the vicinity of the proposed project vehemently opposed it on a variety of grounds, and have chosen to sue the Town in an attempt to block it.

The formal document indicating that I had been charged in the suit arrived while I was teaching in the Czech Republic.  A friend said she had visions of paper-servers chasing me around Prague, as in some thriller film.  It sounds, though, as if even in Amherst, little effort was made to effect personal delivery. As in the case of some other defendants, the documents were just rubberbanded to the handle of a storm door. Not exactly "The Bourne Identity."


The Town has now issued a formal response to the suit. Diane Lederman of the Republican reports here.

Resources

• Solar opponents created this website to present their concerns
This page of the official Amherst website details the Town's plans and responses to questions or concern from the public


[updated with links and image]

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Town of Amherst Seeks Feedback on Performance of Town Manager

The Select Board has issued the following announcement to the community:

The Select Board is beginning its annual evaluation of the Town Manager. We invite members of the public to submit written comments by Wednesday, August 3, 2011.

Please be aware that submissions are NOT confidential. They will be read by the Select Board and the Town Manager. These are personnel documents, and as such, are exempt from public disclosure. The forms become part of the Town Manager’s personnel file, with the same protections and restricted access as any employee’s personnel file.

Submissions may be e-mailed to selectboard@amherstma.gov, or sent to:

TOWN MANAGER EVALUATION
Stephanie O’Keeffe, Chair
Amherst Select Board
Town Hall
4 Boltwood Avenue
Amherst, MA 01002

Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact the Select Board Office at 259-3001, or selectboard@amherstma.gov.

We are seeking input from Town Meeting members, Town committee members and the general public, so please circulate this information broadly. In an effort to save money and staff time, we are no longer sending out post cards about this to Town Meeting members, so it would be particularly helpful if you could inform those you know who don’t tend to use e-mail or access the Town web site.

Thank you for your assistance. We look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Stephanie O'Keeffe, on behalf of the Select Board