The Price of Peace: Money, Democracy, and the Life of John Maynard Keynes, By Zachary D. Carter (2020)

I came up—or took undergraduate courses in Economics, anyway— at the end of the “we’re all Keynesians now” era, the famous phrase coined by Milton Friedman and amplified by Richard Nixon in the 1960s. Keynesian economic policy was bedrock to the New Deal order that lasted from the Great Depression to 1980. But that year, my junior year (Macroeconomics 300), now actually marks the official historical overthrow of Keynesianism at the level of national economic policy by the same Milton Freidman and Ronald Reagan. A new morning was dawning in America, privatizing, union busting, and anti-government initiatives headlined the Reagan Revolution/Neoclassical/Neoliberal free market capitalist agenda, and were about as anti-Keynesian as you could possibly get. 

Not that I understood very well at the time the terrible turning point unfolding. From my coursework I got that Keynesianism boiled down to a vague idea that the government played a necessary stabilizing role in the economy (which sounded right enough and kind of obvious). And I knew that the ascendance of Reagan was bad news, a conservative movement win, white bigots and the rich get richer, basically, but I did not realize at all what an assault and overthrow of the spirit of Keynesian governance and so-called Big Government it all was.(1) I got the idea soon enough but by the time I had I’d shelved Keynes’ big book, The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money (1936), as unreadable academic stuff. I’d try to get to it later, maybe. 


In college I had already read Keynes’ relatively short journalistic book about the negotiations for peace after World War I, The Economic Consequences of the Peace. In that one he argues that the end of WW1 was a tragic farce of belligerent Nationalism and Scrooge banking elites. The punitive economic measures of the Treaty of Versailles, he insisted, would make any subsequent peace harder if not impossible to sustain. The Price of Peace in the aftermath of WWI, Keynes seemed to be saying, meant thinking twice about screwing your National enemies as it is likely to lead to more horrific war and social unrest and so a disruption of peaceful commerce. Grimly, if presciently, he forecasts the rise of fascism three years before Mussolini rises in Italy and fifteen years before Hitler takes over in Germany. So from my first exposure Keynes struck me as a guy on the right side of history but his economics, from what I’d heard, were difficult if not impossible to follow so I left him alone.  


But then more recently, so many years later, I jumped at the chance to read Zachary D. Carter’s The Price of Peace, a big biography of Keynes published in 2020. A perfect way, I figured, to go deeper into Keynes’ economics, when they’ve never seemed more relevant, without actually having to read more of Keynes hardcore macroeconomics straight. So rewarding was Carter’s The Price of Peace, however, I finally did get around to taking a crack at Keynes’ General Theory, his economics magnum opus. Difficult, sure, mathematics I can't follow, some entirely inscrutable sections, but also lots of interesting and possibly crucial points, several of which seemed missing in the negative Keynesian concept bandied about by business elites and their economic ideologues. The Price of Peace felt like a primer to a true Keynesian revival; it was for me, anyway. 


Keynes made his academic career at Cambridge, a foundational citadel of classical capitalist economic theory; “free markets,” “Invisible Hand,” cost-benefit analysis, and all the rest. Alfred Marshall, the Chair of the Cambridge Department of Economics when Britain was the empire on which the sun never sets, wrote the first standard textbook of modern capitalist market theory, Principles of Economics, in 1890; where he plots and diagrams and propagandizes the dynamic logic of the self-regulating capitalist economy and Laissez-faire (leave the economy alone) rule behind the Industrial Revolution then sweeping the world with modernity. The book was hugely influential in English speaking economics education and still celebrated as a foundational economics subject source when I took undergraduate courses in 1980. 


In the Economics department at Cambridge Keynes was a prodigal son. His father taught in the same Economics department alongside Marshall. Keynes, Maynard to his friends, was something of a math prodigy growing up and became a member of the Apostles, an ultra-elite group of scholars at Cambridge, at the age of 19. Keynes’ mind was said to be so sharp he intimidated the philosopher Bertrand Russell, one of the most eminent Apostles at the time. As an undergraduate Keynes was a fierce advocate for free market globalization. He was surely intended to extend the academic glory of classical capitalist economic theory at Cambridge. But his story takes a different turn, one Neoclassical free market economists still resist.  


Keynes actually first thought he wanted to do philosophy but then changed his mind after reading Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations, which he felt effectively discredited the Cambridge analytic philosophy he had hoped to build on. Then when World War I broke out Keynes wanted to do something practical to help his country so he went to work for the British Treasury and began doing economics first as a job that eventually became his academic career. 


Keynes was the intellectual heir apparent of classical economic theory and modern market ideology at Cambridge. He is often cited as the third most important economic thinker of all time after Adam Smith and Karl Marx. If Marx is Capitalism’s fiercest critic; most responsible for exposing Capitalism’s systemic injustices and corruption (expropriation and exploitation, etc). Keynes is Capitalism’s most technocratic (or sympathetic) critic; most responsible for demythologizing classical capitalist theory and shifting the paradigm about the relationship of the government to the economy.   

 

From the time of Keynes’ second book, the Consequences of the Peace, in 1919, to The General Theory, in 1936, he grew increasingly skeptical of classical economic theory. By 1926 he’s calling for the end of Laissez-faire rule as a credible or sustainable ruling ideology and order. With his imperious patience and detail, and to the great annoyance of business elites, he explains why in fact Laissez-faire policies, self-regulating market policies, enable predatory market behavior and exacerbate social conflicts and destabilize societies. By 1936 and his General Theory he is debunking sacred classical capitalist theories and theorists in withering take downs, naming names, decimating free market theories about full employment and the so-called Invisible Hand. 


For one simple example from The General Theory book: saving is not only not the be-all economic engine Adam Smith makes it out to be, Keynes chides, but there can be too much saving and, far more importantly, not enough spending and demand. Smith's small business perspective completely gets the macroeconomy wrong. When Keynes first came out with this stuff there were plenty of Road to Serfdom dogmatists around that did not appreciate his point of view, not surprisingly.   


But Keynes was alarmed as well by the blinkered outlook of the markets and various captains of industry. Much classical self-regulating equilibrium free market theory he comes to think is mistaken at best or totally wrong. He grows convinced the hardships unfettered markets and Laissez-faire economic policies inflict on the laboring masses will lead to more social unrest and violent conflict and war. Economic collapse visits catastrophic miseries on everyone without a wealthy portfolio of assets to fall back on. Keynes sees in the Great Depression, in the historical cycles of boom and bust markets, the predictable austerity politics of free market elites that follow every economic downturn, the flammable material of anti-democratic political movements, strongman dictatorships, and fascism. He was not wrong. 


Nonetheless, after vanquishing the Nazis in World War II and riding high on the material success of the New Deal order in U.S. and the Marshall Plan in Europe and development in postwar Japan, Keynesianism does in fact change mainstream economics after WW2. Not without resistance, of course. Keynesian academics in colleges and universities in the U.S. were persecuted by McCarthyites as socialist fellow travelers, if not outright communists, as much if not more than any other group of professionals in academia. And a counter movement of that old time religion, Neoclassical capitalists, emerges at the University of Chicago school of Economics by the 1950s, with some famous emigres still pining for the lost “free markets” of the Austro-Hungarian empire. 


Nonetheless, all post-WW2 governments in the industrialized world developed government policies to stabilize markets and the economy during the Great Depression, by practical necessity (2). In the recovery this Keynesian model of government and market collaboration (“embedded liberalism,” Polanyi calls it) creates in Western Europe and Japan something of an economic miracle by the 1960s. And in the U.S. the New Deal order generates a boom economy in middle class consumer cultures, broadening economic prosperity like no period in American history before it.(3) So by the 1960s most college and university economics departments were more or less in fact “all Keynesians now” and living in a world where the government role in regulating and stabilizing the economy was generally recognized as necessary, if not crucial.  


Or so everyone thought. But the fissure, one of the shrewder points in The Price of Peace, was always right there in the standard economics textbook of the Keynesian era: Paul Samuelson’s Economics, published in 1948 and still in use in my Economics 101 class in 1978, described by its influential author as a mix of Keynesian and Neoclassical economics. Carter sees in Samuelson and subsequent Keynesian economics in the U.S. something of a betrayal or obfuscation of Keynes’ most important insights into the relationship of the government and markets. And free market fundamentalists find in Samuelson evidence for the failure of Keynesianism.  


One thread of this dispute comes to head in the story economists tell about 1970s and the Phillips curve. The latter, which graphs an inverse relationship between jobs and inflation (or employment and wages), was popularized in Samuelson’s textbook as a cardinal rule of Keynesian macroeconomics. But then a bad bout of Stagflation from 1974-1982, with unemployment and inflation both surpassing 5%, defies the Phillips curve for a stubborn eight years, fueling an anti-Keynesian reaction. The Curve became evidence Exhibit A in a mainstream economic attack on Keynesianism, led by Friedman, and shaped the story most mainstream economists in the U.S. tell about the 1970s to this day. 


This story goes something like this: Keynesian economic policies were stifling free market competition with taxes and bureaucracy and regulations and endless red-tape.(4) Keynesianism and Big Government, same thing, were the problem. And, additionally (and even more gallingly), Friedman and corporate elites (and still echoed by mainstream economists today, to their shame), targeted the so-called "Cadillac" pension plans and exorbitant demands of labor unions as big part of the problem holding back economic growth. Cutting corporate taxes and deregulating the economy and opposing labor unions, or what came to be known as Neoliberalism, was the solution to what ailed the U.S. economy. Or in other words, “free markets" and Laissez-faire were back, baby! 


This is more or less the official mainstream economics story about the 1970s. But Carter defends Keynesianism from this take and this is where his account of recent economic history receives the most push back in the responses to the book I’ve looked at. And probably the right place to note that Carter is not an academic economist but a journalist with a very good education in economic history. And for those who might use this distinction to dismiss Carter’s account, another reason economics is called the “dismal science.”


Keynes, in fact, did not formulate the Phillips curve (Samuelson and, believe it or not, once again, Friedman, were on the case) and, regardless, Keynes repeats in his General Theory book multiple times that macroeconomic relationships cannot be reduced to infallible mathematical formulas. The futility in this is evident in the inability of classical capitalist theory to produce full employment or deal with monopoly or anticipate economic downturns; or, crucially for Keynes, when private markets get stuck in a deflationary trap and cannot generate enough demand and jobs to stabilize the economy and promote growth. In this latter instance, according to Keynes, the government must become the spender of last resort to counter economic collapse and mitigate the devastation wrecked on human communities by cyclical economic downturns. 


In short, the government, wherever necessary and appropriate, insures society against the worst depredations of private markets. Governments cannot control markets with models and graphs. And the government role isn’t to subsidize or propagandize the private markets profiteering flimflam, like Neoliberalism. Its role is to establish and modify rules for the economy that maximizes commerce and trade that nurtures general economic security and prosperity. 


Economic historian Thomas Piketty tells a different story about the US economy in the 1970s, one Keynes might like a little better than the mainstream economic version used to discredit his ideas. One should consider, points out Piketty, that by the 1970s the postwar development of economies in Western Europe and Japan were quelling a post-WW2 export boom in the U.S with their own development. By the end of the 1960s the U.S. was no longer a net-exporter and the balance of trade had shifted, squeezing profit margins in the domestic economy. And then on top of this, the supply shock caused by the rise of OPEC, the independence of oil producing nations in the middle east, stresses out American businesses and consumers. Energy being so central to the economy drives up general inflation.  


There were problems in the economy, like there always are, but instead of investing in American production, pursuing energy independence, or promoting more export trade, or negotiating in good faith with the growing demands of labor for living wages and a middle-class life, or taking even the slightest haircut on corporate profit margins, corporations sought to pass the costs of labor demands onto consumers (as inflation) and, ultimately, to undercut them altogether by breaking labor unions and off-shoring manufacturing jobs; thereby gutting middle class working life in the U.S for now going on three generations. 


We saw beginnings of all this, the Reagan Revolution and Neoliberal agenda, in the headlines in Reagan’s first term. Right off he makes a big show out of breaking the union behind the Air Traffic Controllers and then, more surreptitiously, aggressively launching forty years of tax cuts for the rich and deregulating the economy for corporations, elevating private equity, and promoting the diminishing returns of a low-wage service economy and credit card debt for everybody else. Republican led, to be sure, but with plenty of help from Democratic administrations along the way. Union labor representation plummets. Overall, the income going to the bottom half of the country falls by 15% between 1980 and 2020 but manages to produce enough billionaires to keep the High-tech bread & circus party going even as the gig economy gets increasingly tougher for the 99%. Healthcare bankruptcies go up. The subprime mortgage crisis and The Great Recession. A Big Pharma designed Opioid Crisis. Student loan debt crisis. A homelessness and an affordable housing crisis. Deaths of Despair; falling average lifespans. Bottom line: the Keynesian economy grows almost twice as fast between 1930 and 1980 as does the market fundamentalist Neoliberal economy between 1980 and 2020. 


After going on 50 years of the Neoliberal experiment one thing is for sure: Free market economics are in fact less pro-economic growth than Keynesian economics. Neoliberalism squeezes and chisels income and spending at the middle and low income levels of the economy so as to hoard obscene private concentrations of wealth at the top.


You could say the second half of The Price of Peace, even if Carter does not pile on as much as I am doing here, is about how mainstream economics, at least in the U.S., gets Keynes wrong. Keynesianism isn’t regulating the economy with fixed mathematical models and graphs. It’s an adaptive use of macroeconomic models to answer a question: How does the State, government, encourage the growth of private markets, commerce and trade, while curbing their predatory and destabilizing extremes? And in case you're having any trouble fathoming those extremes: try paying less than living wages, or externalizing the costs and burdens of pollution on the environmental commons, or evading the taxes necessary to support the public infrastructure that nurtures the general prosperity of society.(5) 


To be clear, Keynes was not anti-capitalist. Keynes liked capitalism, played the markets, and supported free trade principles. He always voted Liberal and said he would never join the Labor Party because of its exclusive identification with one social class. He dismissed Marxism as throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Keynes doesn’t want to overthrow capitalism; he wants to save it from its own self-destructive myth and hubris. He was pedantic and effete; a founding member of the Bloomsbury set. He was undoubtably for a long time more than a little naïve about the actual working conditions of workers in Britain’s global empire. And his General Theory is, definitely, more tentative and provisional than the grand unitary title of his great work or his critics might suggest. 


But be all that as it may, I was so turned on by Carter’s magisterial biography that I did finally get around to reading Keynes’ General Theory book. Could I follow all the math and macroeconomic concepts and their relationships? No way. But the gist of it was clear enough; and isn’t that far removed from my first undergraduate impressions. Keynes studied economics and history and learned from his times and came to see self-regulating market economics as a fantasy at best oblivious to important features of the really-existing economy and at worst, which it was unfortunately often, economically predatory and politically divisive. 


As wrap-up I’ll offer up my own peanut gallery synopsis of Keynes’ General Theory: Unfettered markets produce tremendous wealth and, unfortunately, significant human calamity and suffering. They require the hegemonic power of good government to backstop and discipline the market’s risk taking and guide market activity towards the general welfare and prosperity of society. 


Zachary D. Carter’s The Price of Peace is my favorite non-fiction book of the last five years, easy. 


1. Grover Norquist’s libertarian anti-tax crusade still serves as an apt mission statement: “I don’t want to abolish government. I simply want to reduce it to a size where I can drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the bathtub.” And an imaginary cautionary riposte from Keynes might go: libertarian economics enable fascist politics.  


2. I’ve heard this complaint about Charles Kindleberger’s encyclopedic history of economic downturns, Manias, Panics, and Crashes; that it offers no ideas or theoretical lessons to follow. Here’s one: a lack of or a slow response by governments to economic downturns and crashes—i.e., hands-off “free market” austerity policies-- make economic downturns worse and last longer. Every time. 


3. If largely excluding African Americans and new immigrants as a surplus cheap labor source for employers, and so a shameful sop by government to exploitative business interests.  


4. Wonder if any of those critics of big government bureaucracy in the 1970s are still alive and have ever tried to conduct any personal business on the phone or by mail with Xfinity or Verizon or Bank of America or any other giant private business of today? Obviously, the government has no monopoly on impenetrable and maddening bureaucracy.  


5. Some “originalist” wiseacre might point out environmental destruction goes beyond the scope of Keynes’ day, and he never said anything about it, but it is another destructive extreme consequence of unfettered private industry and so obviously the sort of economic behavior he thought must be checked by government. 

 

  

 

Krautrock (Kosmische Musik, German for "Cosmic Music") Experimental Rock (Psychedelia) from West Germany late-1960s early-1970s

 Neu! "Hero": Proto-1977 punk rock (Wire, Killing Joke, Wipers) from Germany 1975.


Can "Father Cannot Yell" 1969: imperial source inspiration to Pavement's 1990s and LCD Soundsystem's 2000s.


Faust "J'Ai Mal Aux Dents" 1973: pre-punk post-punk.  


In case you're into that kind of thing, lyric translation: 

This is a man hard working songThere is... no old dreamWe practiced for years my friendTo get this machine screamsNoise follows questions honeyThe hero is a business bunnyIf it means moneyThis is time maybe we do it without crimeBecause you are crying and i don't listenBecause you are dying and i just whistleThat thing so anonymously todayAnd echoes of my laughter burn into your seven hour turn
The problem is not only painIf time could be part of machineYou could pack it, see it's cleanYou could roll the end to startTomorrow skip my plastic heartBeating for a spacey bluesAnd you could hear it without shoes
It's been a nice (historic) roleFirst call the name and then the codeFirst call the code and then the nameI think it's still a funny game
ROCK OFF!
Here we go sisters, here we go manYour home made connectionsI do what i canYour tranquilliser body touch is very nice becauseAnd i don't need youMakes you wait for the master becauseI don't need youAnd you sit on your chair with your distant careThis mind blowing freakMakes my mind very sickAnd the seasons grow without your be active or die blowSay A.M. man, say A.M. woman's roleSee the mind control is perfectAnd you still have your daddy's smileFences on the floor are not thereBecause you can't hideYou get your children, you get your carWhat do you think how old you areWhat do you think what people needIt's not that plastic, let it bleedIt's not that plastic honey don'tBecause you understand you won'tSee your generation with their TV on standby
ROLL OUT!

(Like they saw A Clockwork Orange the year before and this was Faust's response in song.) 


"Here Come the Judge," Pigmeat Markam (1968)

Frequently cited as possibly the first charting rap record. Certainly it's on a short list. Markam goes way back. Although you won't find him on the irrepressibly stellar collection, The Roots of Rap, Classic Recordings from the 1920's and '30's, Yazoo Records. Instead, Markam rose to fame touring with Bessie Smith, performed stand-up comedy in blackface, sparked dance crazes and played in the movies before making this record of his signature routine in his later years. He's a cultural bridge between 19th century minstrel music hokum and Hiphop. 



Letters from an American, Heather Cox Richardson, January 24, 2024

 

My hot take: 

For some comic relief, imagine the Orange Grump is a presidential candidate on some glitzy Reality TV show. Bigger than The Apprentice; bigger than Survivor! Everyone watches it. But, and this is the relief part, entirely benign. A TV show. Not really an incredibly grave National Security threat. Not really a violent fascist that inspires his cult followers to threaten and/or commit acts of violence against his political enemies (immigrants, judges, election workers, liberals, whoever). Not a serial financial fraudster and crooked business deals crook. Not a serial abuser of women. Or, in general, not a serial human rights abuser. Not an unbelievably toxic agent of social division and conflict. Just a TV show. Maybe like House of Cards only funnier; more an over the top dumpster fire cartoon caricature of a presidential candidate as a monumental ass. In that world, have to admit, "NIKKI CAME IN LAST, NOT SECOND!" is a good line.

HCR's full take. 



My first cartoon: "Here I Come to Save the Day!"


 "On the sea or on the land he gets the situation well in hand!"

Gorecki's Symphony of Sorrowful Songs (Symphony No. 3) and Losing Loved Ones

 Henryk Gorecki's Symphony of Sorrowful Songs is maybe most familiar from the way a piece of it makes this scene in Peter Weir's 1993 film Fearless:


His symphony No. 3 was written in three movements; two, the first and last, from the perspective of a parent who has lost a child and the middle from the perspective of a child who has been separated from a parent. Here's the whole thing: 


 It's relentlessly sad, sure. But awesome in its powers of acceptance and enduring love, sympathy, feeling, something?  

For it has come about, by the wise economy of nature, that our modern spirit can almost dispense with language; the commonest expressions do; hence the most ordinary conversation is often the most poetic, and the most poetic is precisely that which cannot be written down. Virginia Woolf, Orlando 1928

Standing (and Falling Down) at the Crossroads

 Crossroads By Jonathan Franzen (2021) 

In my feeble effort to keep up with the contemporary novel (I’ve read 9 titles out of Goodreads Top 25 of the 21st century) I’ve read more Jonathan Franzen novels, four, than anybody else who shows up on such lists. (One more than Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, for what it’s worth.) But I’m hardly any kind of Franzen fan boy or completist. I don’t know his first two novels, for instance, and have barely touched his essays and various other commentaries and controversies. 

A friend tells me there’s a lot of hate for Franzen on social media. I’m assuming most of that is because he’s a relatively popular environment-friendly liberal intellectual and so a target of the anti-woke mob Bro culture that trolls the interwebs but I might have that wrong. I’m generally very out of touch with the contemporary conversation. 

 I know after his first breakout book, The Corrections (2001), he had a run-in with the Oprah Winfrey Show. Oprah’s Book Club picked Franzen’s book but then rescinded the honor when Franzen complained in an interview he was afraid Oprah’s recognition would discourage the male readership he wanted to reach. His supporting evidence for this fear, weird and funny in retrospect, was about how at events he attends to speak and sign books men are coming up to him and telling him that the Oprah book recommendation turned them off. Consider this reader for a moment: A man interested in literary fiction in the 21st century who will only read novels recommended by men or is that hostile to Oprah?! Why? Because she champions Toni Morrison and so threatens the male domination of the literary canon, perhaps? I know this is pre-Me Too early 2000s but this was still that much of a thing, really? 

 Reminds me of Virginia Woolf’s talk about the androgynous mind in the creative arts; everyone is a non-binary composite Man-woman or Woman-man, and creative energy flows out of a stable balance (not perfect equality) in our natural doubled genderness. To Woolf, and she’s riffing on some Thomas Carlyle I don’t know, writers can be too masculine or feminine, although the latter she thought had been twisted and suppressed from expressing much of an authentic literary voice at all up to the point of her writing. (Or, in other words, up to that point the feminine voice in literature was mostly a male projection.) Writers can be too Manly-woman or Womanly-man, cautions Woolf. Maybe Franzen is too Manly-woman in his writing? The abject humiliation of men by their own petty and grandiose desires and fantasies is a common theme in his novels, for sure. Men are one of his biggest subjects. But worth noting anyway that Oprah honored his next novel, Freedom (2010), as well, and this time they met and made nice. And while The Corrections might lack complex female characters every novel since includes at least one strong female character, by my possibly overly Male lights, anyway. Actually, I think in her gently-brilliant way, Woolf was onto something here with this androgynous mind stuff, as she often was.    

Franzen is also I think an anti-cat person. And I’m a cat person. But I don’t know all of his writing on this subject either. There is, however, a funny sub-story about cats vs birds he works into Freedom. Our bird loving protagonist, Walter, is intensely engaged in a low intensity war with neighborhood outdoor cats that menace the local bird population. I’d like to think that the cats and dogs and birds can all get along in some natural balance without threatening bird populations too much but I don’t know. I’ve never noticed any shortage of birds, who I enjoy along with all the other little critters, where I live in Seattle. But I know walking around my neighborhood that outdoor cats and dogs can be annoying, although dogs more than cats in my experience.  

Anyway, I’ve read a few Franzen novels. I like them. He’s very smart, intensely observant, dryly funny, and I like the way he takes on political topics even when I don’t always entirely agree with his cynical takes. And not least of all probably because I do in fact sympathize with his cynical takes a fair amount.

Franzen writes merciless and savagely funny portraits of contemporary characters stuck in sprawling dysfunctional family sagas. It’s not that his characters lack depth or complexity, there is plenty, and it’s not that his characters never find any modest amount of redemption in their lives. They do. He’s always trying to plumb deeper than caricature. But one rule for Franzen’s characters, mostly (but not all) Americans, is how much they are always getting in their own way. Otherwise smart and sensitive people, people like you and me, easy to recognize, people with relatively humble goals and modestly laudable ambitions, working, coupling, supporting a family, being a friend, are repeatedly in Franzen novels, as if by clever literary trick, turned into muddled, self-justifying, excruciatingly cringe-inducing idiots by their unrealized ambitions and sexual desires and related fantasies.  

Franzen is a master of a certain kind of character driven humiliation vignette. Our protagonist, a very self-conscious, sensitive, clever, if troubled person, launches plans of action, obsesses about them, driven by inchoate desires mulled over and over in their mind to the point the reader is following the story action in dreadful suspense, anticipating immanent disaster, some deeply humiliating spectacle, and when it arrives it’s always even more petty and degrading and funnier than you could have imagined. I’m no expert on the history of this literary device. But Dostoevsky did this a lot for me in his novels, if maybe with slightly less humor and way more angry and harrowing tragedy. 

So, first off, in Crossroads (2021), Franzen’s latest novel, one such protagonist, Russ, 1960s Baby Boomer liberal and hapless small-town midwest church pastor, is my least favorite Franzen protagonist or central character to date; more cringe-inducing even than Walter in Freedom. 

 But two other characters of Crossroads I think stand up with some of Franzen’s best: 

 Perry, a Mensa teen with drug problems, suffers a show-stopping meltdown at a Christmas party, surreptitiously drunk on Glogg (highly alcoholic Swedish holiday drink), hilariously engaging two local religious leaders, one Jewish and one Catholic, in an erudite discussion of the possibility or impossibility of truly altruistic behavior. If all our individual actions are rooted in reflexive mental cost-benefit analysis, Perry pontificates, aren’t all our actions inescapably and ultimately selfish? It’s a doozy of a scene, both funny and poignant. And Perry is as curious and heartbreaking as any supporting character Franzen has written.  

Even more sprawling and even more a tour de force is the backstory for Marian, who until nearly halfway through the novel we have only known as the frumpy, taciturn wife of over twenty years to Russ, the brooding and unhappy pastor that disparages and neglects her. But in a tense, high-pitch therapy session lasting several hours Marian launches into her backstory, recounting her sexual relationships before Russ, including being exploited by a married car salesman and being raped by some freaky Hollywood Babylon-like Santa Claus character who preys on young women coming up and trying to make it in mid-century Los Angeles. And thereby Marian transforms herself into the hero, such as there is in the novel, as muddled as everyone else but still somehow surviving, coming out the other side of her own spiritual abyss. Her self-lacerating intelligence burns hot. It’s delayed but when Marian’s character finally emerges she’s crucial to drawing all the threads of Franzen’s sprawling story together. Also, along with Patty in Freedom, and Pip in Purity, Marian stands out as one of Franzen’s strongest and most complex women characters to date.   

In his grandest mode as a novelist Franzen wants to set his family sagas against a backdrop of big social, cultural, and/or political events. In The Corrections it’s the arms trade and wars in the Middle East. In Freedom it’s loss of natural habitats and environmental destruction. In Purity (2015) it’s the end of the Cold War and post-1989 global left movements. And now in Crossroads its race relations and more environmental degradation. But the balance between individual and familial travails and political themes has varied quite a bit in his novels. 

In this respect Crossroads feels like a return to The Corrections, where the sex and drug adventures of the principal characters are nearly everything and the politics a background appendage. But The Corrections is by far Franzen’s best-selling novel to date. By contrast, in Freedom and Purity the characters are more deeply embedded in big political themes, but these books sold each progressively worse than The Corrections. Perhaps in balancing his own ambitions to make art and entertain a readership he decided his readers prefer more sex and drugs and less politics in their family sagas. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way for me. I recognize Franzen’s strength is in writing struggling, recognizable contemporary characters we can identify with but I like wrestling with his political commentary, it makes reading him more interesting to me. 

It might also be that Franzen’s humor and satire work better at the level of the individual character. His funniest stuff so far was arguably in The Corrections. So perhaps better making fun of arm’s traders than environmentalists (Freedom) or global leftists (Purity)? His cynical wit turned on earnest do-gooding can seem cheap, churlish, maybe too much like punching down. But I like the big topical subject matter, gives me more to grapple with outside the suffocating psychological confines of all his frustrated individuals. 

On the one hand Crossroads feels like a coming-of-age stoner comedy set in the early 1970s (a milieu with which I am familiar and enjoyed, by the way) and on the other a scathing satire of post-‘60s small town Christian youth group culture, including a pastor awkwardly lusting after a new single mother member of the church. Scratch the surface of the Crossroads community and we find broken homes, sexual abuse, a condescending obliviousness towards matters of race, and lots of alienation and social misfit stress and anguish. The contrast is striking and the simple Christian faith put forward to resolve these tensions in Crossroad’s conclusion feels awkward and inadequate to all the emotional trauma that preceded it.  

Reportedly, Crossroads is the first novel in a proposed trilogy titled A Key to All Mythologies, which might seem a tad pretentious up against the petty social and familial humiliations in this first installment. But this is where those keys lie, we must conclude Franzen has decided, and not in irresolvably big political issues. And the possible keys to mythologies in Crossroads? Our sexual desires and fantasies muddle our thinking and understandings of the world around us? And/or the way drugs and other various vices give shape to the stories we tell about ourselves? Or the way we persevere, however stumbling, in the face of the unavoidable and humiliating personal setbacks in our lives? 

 At any rate, a little bit of a letdown for me from the other three novels I know but I gather this goes against the grain of most popular opinion about Crossroads. Many seem to find it a return to form, warmer, more personable than the cynical political satire in Freedom and Purity. I find it a little less interesting and a little less convincing but I’m at least still curious as to where Franzen goes next in his search for the key to all mythologies. 

  


And Anyone Still Wonders why We Can't Have Nice Things?!

 

New York Times headline: 


After Iowa, [G]rump Is Back to Command the National Psyche. He Never Actually Left. 


Opines the Times, amplifying the spurious claim and making it seem factual at the same time. 


The former president’s detractors own no earplugs effective enough to block out his steamrolling bid for a third nomination.

 

Steamrolling with a big assist from the MSM, again, and over his namby Repug competitors, who fall all over themselves excusing his treasonous fraud and criminality. Sure.


And buried how deep under these headline assertions are some actual facts like he won a bare majority (51%) in a deeply Red state and drew barely more than half other recent elections to the polls (105k), a barely significant sample of the electorate in even sparsely populated Iowa?  


Dump's a loser. And dangerous, an ongoing national security threat, and still being platformed and amplified, instead of being called out consistently for the violent fascist bigot and colossally corrupt disaster he is, by one of our national newspaper's of record.

Sad.  

Psst: Joe Biden has Solved the Student Debt Crisis, By Ellie Quinlan Houghtaling, Washington Monthly

 


The president’s new student loan program, SAVE, will slash monthly payments for borrowers like me. It’s the large-scale debt relief activists have spent years fighting for. Why are they badmouthing it?


And if Save still isn't good enough for you? I was paying off my student loan debts into my forties. I know your pain. Then vote! The only way anything like this gets done, student loan debt, climate change, more affordable health care, living wages, taxing the rich enough to support needed public infrastructure, is by electing Democrats, by creating bigger majorities in congress. So vote!

Martin Luther King jr. on the Dignity of all Labor and the Crime of Economic Maximizing the Minimum and Minimizing the Maximum

Excerpts from a speech MLK gave in Memphis during a sanitation worker strike on March 18, 1968: 

But let me say to you tonight, that whenever you are engaged in work that serves humanity and is for the building of humanity, it has dignity, and it has worth. (Applause) One day our society must come to see this. One day our society will come to respect the sanitation worker if it is to survive, for the person who picks up our garbage, in the final analysis, is as significant as the physician, for if he doesn’t do his job, diseases are rampant. (Applause) All labor has dignity. (Yes!)

But you are doing another thing. You are reminding, not only Memphis, but you are reminding the nation that it is a crime for people to live in this rich nation and receive starvation wages. (Applause) And I need not remind you that this is our plight as a people all over America. The vast majority of Negroes in our country are still perishing on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. (Applause) My friends, we are living as a people in a literal depression.

Now you know when there is mass unemployment and underemployment in the black community they call it a social problem. When there is mass unemployment and underemployment in the white community they call it a depression. (Applause) But we find ourselves living in a literal depression, all over this country as a people.

Now the problem is not only unemployment. Do you know that most of the poor people in our country are working every day? (Applause) And they are making wages so low that they cannot begin to function in the mainstream of the economic life of our nation. (That’s right) These are facts which must be seen, and it is criminal to have people working on a full-time basis and a full-time job getting part-time income. (Applause) 

If America does not use her vast resources of wealth to end poverty and make it possible for all of God’s children to have the basic necessities of life, she, too, will go to hell.


Now you are doing something else here. You are highlighting the economic issue. You are going beyond purely civil rights to questions of human rights. That is a distinction.


Never forget that freedom is not something that is voluntarily given by the oppressor. It is something that must be demanded by the oppressed.

The Origin Story of Blackface Music

Raising Cain: Blackface Performance from Jim Crow to Hip Hop 
W.T. Lhamon Jr., 1998, Harvard Uinversity Press 

Blackface minstrel music is the shameful ancestry of rock & roll music. I mean by this simply cultural mixing is elemental to rock & roll music, the Rock era, and cultural mixing in American popular music history, Black and white*, say the musicologists and historians, begins in popular blackface musical performance in the early 19th century. And a conundrum for me, as lifelong popular music geek, is I’ve always found blackface performance visually cringe-inducing at best, obviously offensive, even repulsive, something I avoid, but I love the sounds of cultural mixing in American popular music, a vital frisson in it that I crave and always have. 

For a prime example of my avoidance, I’ve yet to make it all the way through The Jazz Singer, Al Jolson’s famous iconic blackface movie from 1927, even if I still feel as an old pop music geezer like I’m supposed to. Haven’t been able to take sitting through the blackface performance for that long. I liked Nick Tosches’ book, Where Dead Voices Gather (2001), about obscure blackface minstrel performer Emmett Miller but was a little shocked by Miller’s CD cover when it arrived in my mail. My first thought: Wow, I can’t leave that out for just anybody to see! Blackface imagery is so flagrantly racist, an obviously degrading, clownish, mocking caricature of Blacks. It can take more relatively benign forms in Uncle Ben or Aunt Jemima, cartoony, cute branding forms, but don’t know that I’ve seen a live-action blackface image (even performed by a Black person!) that I didn’t find cringe-inducing and/or repulsive and wanted to avoid. 

 But, by contrast, blackface music, what I know admittedly limited, and the line between what actually is and isn’t blackface music is still blurry for me, I often like and that’s going way back to the source. One of the original blackface music hits from the 1830s, “Zip Coon,” later known as “Turkey in the Straw,” strikes me as undeniable, a fiddle-tune dance number so compelling you can’t hear it without wanting to skip and twirl around like a kid. It is a gold nugget of American popular music history as you'll ever find. In many parts of the country it has been near ubiquitously played by summer ice cream trucks forever, or until in the wake of the George Floyd protests it was canceled for its racist connotations. People complain about cancel culture and the woke mob taking things too far, few of which stories I ever find very convincing. Removing Confederate flags and statues, for examples, way past due by me. But canceling “Turkey in the Straw”?! That is really going too far!  


Or consider Bert Williams’ “Nobody,” his signature hit from 1905, an obvious inspiration to Spencer William’s standard in American popular song, “I Ain’t Got Nobody,” performed most famously by Louis Prima (1950s) and even later David Lee Roth (1980s). Williams and George Walker, African Americans, performed in West Coast minstrel shows in blackface as “Two Real Coons” at the turn of the 20th century. W.C. Fields once said of Williams, “The funniest man I ever saw and the saddest man I ever knew.” William’s “Nobody” registers unmistakably as a kind of protest to the derogative stereotypes of blackface performed in blackface: 

 “I ain’t never done nothin’ to nobody

I ain’t never done nothin’ to nobody, no time 

Until I get somethin’ from somebody sometime

I’ll never do nothin’ for nobody, no time” 

 So, again, I like some music performed in blackface. But I avoid Williams & Walker’s actual blackface imagery, which reminds me of Spike Lee’s insulting take on the sketch comedy show In Living Color in his 2000 film Bamboozled. For me, blackface imagery is cringe-inducing at best and something I generally avoid. 

Anyway, I know enough to know the history of blackface minstrel music and cultural mixing in American popular music is complicated and I’m curious about knowing more about it. Which brings us at last to the book at hand. 

 The thesis of W.T. Lhamon Jr’s Raising Cain (1998) is that before blackface was a weapon of white supremacist segregation and an odious cultural poison still at large today, in its actual historical origins in the 1830s and 1840s blackface minstrel performance was perhaps America’s first popular multicultural youth movement. It was generally disparaged by the old, as genuine youth movements usually are, was directly inspired by Black performed music and dance, and was much less a putdown and more a raucous sendup of “Jim Crow” as a wry, Black, cultural mixing everyman trickster hero.  

Lhamon tells the origin story of blackface minstrel music. Ground zero was the docks of NYC, Catherine Market, where southern slave culture and urban immigrant populations mingled, and where Blacks played music and danced for Eels, as advertised on local promotional posters (left). Music and dance performances, sometimes no more than a Black fiddler, a wooden box, and some dancers, begin drawing big crowds by the 1820s. Then in the 1830s local stage performers, from the Bowery, a nearby neighborhood with theaters that appealed to relatively poor working class immigrant populations, work up stage routines incorporating some of the Black performances popular at the Catherine Market; trying to match the energy of the Black performances on the docks, while adding their own ethnic proclivities, and comic and dramatic commentary in song. 

 Minstrel singer Thomas “Daddy” Rice performing in blackface at the Bowery Theater in NYC, near 5-Points, teeming with poor immigrants, German, Irish, etc, makes a hit out of “Jump Jim Crow” with sheet music and rowdy tours of other parts of the country between 1828 and the 1840s. 

 I’m not sure his Foucault and Wittgenstein quotes help much but Lhamon effectively makes the case for understanding Jim Crow in early minstrel music as a cross-culturally popular Black hero. Jim Crow is the scorned outsider, put upon, but clever, a crazy good dancer, and by luck and pluck makes lemonade out of lemons, or least always seems to escape disaster to party another day:

“I kneel to de buzzard, an, I bow to the crow;

An eb'ry time I weel about I jump jis so.”

 Jim is always Raisin’ Cain, always getting into mischief and trouble, but always finding ways to get by and thrive as a rustic pop/folk song gloss on the old Biblical story of Cain slaying his brother and being thrown out of his community. Jim is an underclass hero, a survivor, scorned by the segregationist authorities (see later Jim Crow laws) but immensely popular with young multicultural populations of Americans during the early minstrel music period of the 1830s and 1840s. 

 Anyway, it’s a good story and sounds credible enough to me. But tracing blackface performance from Jim Crow to Hiphop, the promise of the subtitle, which admittedly even on its face sounds like an impossibly epic task, is much sketchier in Lhamon’s account, leaving many gaps and questions. Like so how does Jim Crow our culturally mixing popular music hero of the 1830s and 1840s turn into the viciously racist Jim Crow segregation caricature of the latter 19th and 20th centuries? I don’t mean so much I doubt a connection exists but Lhamon really doesn’t offer much support or analysis bridging his original Jim Crow to Hiphop. It might have been curious, for instance, to have traced the Jim Crow trickster figure through Stagger Lee, Iceberg Slim, Shaft, Pimps, or other relevant Black archetypes up to, say, Tupac Shakur. Or maybe better to emphasize the continuity and attraction and vitality of Black music and dance-- trying not to be too rock snobby about this—by connecting the Black music and dance at the Catherin Market to James Brown over, I’m sorry, MC Hammer. (Not that there is anything wrong with Hammer time!) Or, for one more untapped possibility, why not connect the Catherine Market dance performances to Hiphop breakdancing. But none of this is to be found in this book. 

Nonetheless, Raisin’ Cain serves up some documented and deep literary analysis of the historical origin story of blackface minstrel music. Glad to know it. Racist insult, cultural appropriation, and exploitation riddle the story of American popular music history, without doubt. But this can be a broad-brush picture drawn by, understandably, the music industry’s victims and probably as well those who never liked the music much in the first place. Far more prevalent in the Rock era, and as evidenced in the origin story of blackface music performance in Raisin’ Cain, is not a denigration but a homage and/or celebration of the cultural mixing energy of Black music and dance performance. 

 *Really, a polyglot of African and European ethnic multicultural jambalaya caught up in this, so far, inescapable, intractable racist binary conflict in American history.