War and History with Victor Davis Hanson

Peter Robinson, host of the Hoover Institution's Uncommon Knowledge, interviews Victor Davis Hanson, Martin and Illie Anderson Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution, Classicist, and Military Historian.

The discussion centered around themes from Dr. Hanson's latest book, a collection of his essays, "The Father of Us All: War and History, Ancient and Modern." 

I. Inseparable From the Human Condition

II. The American Way of War

III. Your Defeat, My Victory

IV. Ain't Gonna Study War No More

V. Man of War

Transcript [PDF]

War and History with Victor Davis Hanson

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
Total time: about 50 minutes.

Around the Web

For the week of Saturday, March 13 through Friday, March 19.

1) David Harsanyi in the Denver Post asks, "Does the process matter?"

President Barack Obama believes citizens are indifferent to "procedural" spats.

Actually, in the case of health care legislation, the ugly substance of the legislation creates the ugly process. The two issues are inseparable. The process is corrupted as the advocates have no other path for passage.

Sometimes process is vital in protecting the American people from the abuses of majoritarians and crusading tyrants. Other times, it is used by those very people to circumvent pesky constitutional restrictions.

2)  At Reason.tv, "Reason Saves Cleveland Part II: Fix the Schools."

3) At The Volokh Conspiracy, Ilya Somin asks, "Is Hayek Still Relevant?"

4) In the WSJ, Terry Teachout on Benny Goodman, Jerome Robbins, Benjamin Britten and Other "Unsure Artists"

5) In Science News, Tom Siegfried on "the shortcomings of statistics."

6) In the WSJ, Robyn Eckhardt interviews Malaysian architect Kenneth Yeang and discusses sustainable skyscrapers. (He also answers a few questions about himself, revealing a bit of his personal philosophy.)

7) In City Journal, Adam D. Thierer reviews "You Are Not a Gadget: A Manifesto" by Jaron Lanier.

8-9) Reviews from MusicCriticism.com

1. Richard Draubner on Wagner's Rienzei and Die Meistersinger. (Deutsche Oper Berlin)
2. Agnes Cory on a Michelangelo themed recital by bass Sir John Tomlinson and pianist David Owen Norris.

10) At Musica Sacra, "Liturgy and the Words We Use" by William Mahrt.

On the Overture to Don Giovanni

Overture to Don Giovanni
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. (KV.527)

Don Giovanni was commissioned by Pasquale Bondini and Domenico Guardasoni for their opera company and premiered at the Estates Theatre (aka The Count Nostitz National Theater) in Prague on October 29, 1787.

Instrumentation: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 clarin trumpets, timpani, and strings (2 violins, viola, cello, bass.)

The score is available via the Neue Mozart-Ausgabe.

 

 Incipit. (click to enlarge.)

James Levine conducting.

. . . the work is not about guilt and retribution but simply about being and non-being, and the overwhelming tragedy of the conclusion rests on the grandeur and terror of the action as such, not on the triumph of moral laws over the world of appearances. [Abert, 1050.]

I. A Programmatic Overture?

In the tradition of E. T. A. Hoffman this overture has been considered programmatic in nature, with specific references to the plot and characters, particularly the opposing characters of Don Giovanni and the Commendatore.[1] As suggested by the quote above, Abert did not subscribe to this theory and wisely so. The significance  of this overture does not derive from particular actions but of elemental forces in opposition and conflict. Its essence is the relationship between these forces, a relationship incomparably expressed by some of Mozart's most beautiful and terrifying music.

II. Analysis

     a. Andante m.1-30

We begin in D minor with the opening famous for both its strength and the terror it evokes. The first chord, forte on the tonic, is striking enough, yet its effect is increased by 1) the trill on the timpani, 2) the sustained chords in the upper winds and horns, 3) the syncopated half-note chords in the violins, 4) the half-notes on D in the lower voices, and 5) the concluding rest. The effect is nothing short of astounding: the first chord slices the silence as the upper winds and horns fill out the sonority, and the timpani trill and the syncopated violins trip up the smoothness and jostle us before repeating their notes, and the lower voices fade away. A rest follows but this brief pause serves not as respite but to intensify the preceding terror by letting it momentarily recede from us. The effect is then repeated starting with a chord on the dominant.

Now a new theme of a dotted figure comes in the strings, accented by a whole note descending in the woodwinds on the first beat of each measure. Then we hear another new theme, with the 1st violins wandering amongst F, G#, A, and E as the lower strings alternate between the dominant and 7th and then tonic and dominant, all against a figure in the 2nd violins disorienting, agitating, and frightening despite its simplicity:

m. 11-14

Yet another new theme presents itself to us, a descending figure starting sforzato on a D quarter note (doubled 8ba) and running down to C on 32nd notes, where it ends piano. (below, left)

m.15-16	m.17

This theme transitions into yet another one, (above, right) consisting of a triplet 16th note (in the violins an octave apart) followed by a fragile 8th note in the bass voices. The theme is cut of by a swell forte in the orchestra before it continues, though only to be cut off in like-fashion again at m.20.  The theme, now limping even weaker, transitions into the andante's most recognizable theme, an ascending and descending scale that rises each measure, "rising in crescendo, seeping away again piano." [Abert, 1052]

m. 23

The scales create an unbearable and escalating tension until the fourth iteration of the scalar figure (m.26) erupts into a frenzy of 32nd notes in the 1st violins. The transition here is most abrupt: in m.28 we are all frenzied 32nd notes, timpani trill, and forte horns, and at m.29 we are piano, and the first violins in staccato 8th notes are slowly leading us away from the experience. This sudden transition into the following D major allegro draws the sharpest of comparisons between the two elemental forces of the overture.

     b. Allegro m.31-285(end)


     m.31-76

Abert insists, again contra E. T. A. Hoffman, that this "most inspired" of Mozart's ideas must be perceived as a unified whole and not as a "mosaic-like" arrangement of aspects of the titular character. [Abert, 1053]

m.32-39. (Abert's section bracketing.)

Indeed, for as he says this element as a whole consists of a build up and a release of energy, from the motifs on the upbeats to the explosion of the rising anapestic[2] fanfare figure in the woodwinds (m.38-39) This theme (in the violins) runs against a tonic pedal in the violas and cellos which seems as a fiery crackling in the background, strongly contrasting the previous passage and alerting us that something new is afoot. Despite several delays the theme is drawn down from A to the tonic and at last to the outburst and dominant at m.38.

The theme then repeats with intensification from the winds and horns in sections (a) and (b) and a new orchestral passage follows section (c). The staccato quavers, forte unison on D at m.48, the syncopated chords in the winds that give way again to the anapest figure, the figures rising and falling an octave, and the half cadence close give the section tremendous drive and contrast. Scales for the violins follow three times before a brief theme in the winds against another pedal piano, yet again without warning or preparation as the strings reply furiously in A minor before closing on E.

     m.77-120

m.77-78

This main theme of the 2nd subject falls into two sections, the first five descending notes (a) and then the consequent (b), the effect of which is a challenge and a response. (The consequent bears close relation to part of our opening theme.) The theme then repeats before part (a) of our second subject takes center stage. Its first two notes now forte and piano respectively, it is taken up first by the strings and woodwinds, then exclusively by the latter group that trades it back and forth between the flute and oboe (m. 85) and at last the bassoon takes it over. Now the second subject theme is unleashed in A major in all of its glory, its rhythms soaring unbound until at m.116 a series of quaver quadruplets centered around A and E barely manage to put the brakes on.


     m.121 - Development

This section begins with the return of the second subject theme. There follows what Abert understandably called the allegro's "most inspired moment" in which the first half of the theme is repeated stretta[3] in the woodwinds as the second half alternates between the violins. It is a brief yet revealing moment as these contesting ideas are "revealed to be different expression of one and the selfsame force." [Abert, 1056]

At m.141 the main theme returns with a shift to G major but it has not its former luster and vigor  and rather quickly fades away. The second subject theme now enters in what will be a series of six iterations, each harmonically varying. Abert outlines the harmonic progression of the section as follows:

B-flat - g(V) - g(1) ( = d (IV)) - d(V) - d(I) ( = a(IV)) - a(V) - A(I)

After the sixth variation the theme somewhat struggles with little ascending and descending figures and attempts to begin again  four times, fortepiano as if trying to get properly underway. The effort concludes with descending scales from E and G in the violins (m.192.)

After the rollicking return of material in the recapitulation we slowly descend to the drama, having modulated to C major (for transition into Leporello's Introduzione aria in F.) By means of drawing out the familiar first half of the second subject theme the momentum dies and the fading image of the elemental struggle gives way to the opera proper.


     c. Concert Ending (m.286-298)

While the overture dissipates into the Introduction and Leporello's aria "Notte e giorno faticar" Mozart also composed an alternative 13-bar ending intended for concert hall performances. The ending has been variously received, Abert calling it "hasty, too short or unworthy of a classic overture" [Biancolli. 460] and "evidently dashed off at great speed" [Abert, 1057: Footnote 87] and in contrast Einstein considering it "a truly inspired piece of work." [Biancolli, 460] It also presents various difficulties for analysis.


On this "concert ending," Mr. Hideo Noguchi has published on his personal Mozart Studies website a thorough and thoughtful analysis. Included are discussions of manuscripts, harmonics, instrumentation, dynamics, et cetera. As it is readily available I simply and gladly refer you to the author's fine work. The link is in the Recommended section below.


IV. Conclusion

As we see from the handling of the musical elements the relationship between our two main musical ideas is the heart of the piece. Compare the chilling opening of the andante and the potent, first theme of the allegro with its exuberant life force. Consider the array of terrible themes of the andante contrasting the variations of the second subject. Perhaps most significantly we saw the sharp contrast between the andante and the allegro in the sudden transition from the former to the latter and, perhaps most uncomfortably, that no matter how glorious the allegro grew, the great and ominous andante ever hovered over.

–

[1] Abert's W. A. Mozart contains a footnote with several works of such "poeticizing" interpretations from the 19th century, including accounts from Hoffman, Gounod, Jahn, and Wagner.
[2] i.e., a meter comprised of two short beats followed by a longer one, as opposed to the dactylic meter.
[3] Italian for narrow or close, stretto refers to the answer replying to the subject before the subject has yet completed. (It can also refer to a section of increased speed. [Apel, 711.]

Bibliography

Abert, Hermann. W. A. Mozart. Yale University Press. New Haven and New York. 2007.

Apel, Willi. Harvard Dictionary of Music. Entry: Stretto. Harvard University Press. Cambridge, Massachusetts. 1966.

Biancolli, Louis. (ed.) The Mozart Handbook: A Guide to the Man and His Music. Essay on the "Overture to Don Giovanni" by Herbert F. Peyser. The World Publishing Company. Cleveland and New York. 1954.

Recommended

Cairns, David. Mozart and His Operas. University of California Press. Berkeley and Los Angeles. 2006.

Kierkegaard, Søren. Either/Or. Trans. Hong, Howard V. and Hong, Edna H. Essay, "The Immediate Stages of the Erotic, or Musical Erotic." Princeton University Press. Princeton, NJ. 1987.

Noguchi, Hideo. An appraisal reconsideration of Don Giovanni Overture K.527 with Mozart's alternative conclusion.  http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~rb5h-ngc/e/k527.htm 2007.

On the History of the Estates Theatre. http://www.estatestheatre.cz/et_history.html

Around the Web

For the week of Saturday, March 6th through Friday, March 12th.

1) For the WSJ, Kelly Crow (Maastricht, The Netherlands) on $4 billion worth of Gauguins, Botticellis and Roman statues.

2) At The Boston Globe, Carolyn Y. Johnson on the Bohlen-Pierce scale:

The unusual scale she played ended on a high note that was triple, not double, the frequency of the low note, and the interval was divided into 13 equal steps. This new system, called Bohlen-Pierce, was independently invented in the 1970s and 1980s by two engineers and a computer scientist as an alternative to the traditional musical system. Initially a mixture of math, music, and theory, Bohlen-Pierce has now grown into a living art, as people around the world have begun building instruments, composing pieces, and developing a music theory, all using notes that most people have never heard.

3) In the WSJ, Byron Janis on Chopin's 'Soul and Heart.'


4) Arminta Wallace interviews violinist Janine Jansen for The Irish Times.

5) In The UK Guardian, Alex Ross on applause at the concert hall.

Around the Web

For the week of Saturday, February 27th through Friday, March 5.

1) At the Mises Daily Blog, Ralph Raico on "Austrian Economics and Classical Liberalism."

2) From his blog, Victor Davis Hanson on contradictions.

3) Reason.tv's Ted Balaker interviews Eugene Volokh (professor of law at the UCLA School of Law and founder of The Volokh Conspiracy) to discuss gun rights, free expression, the Nanny State, and "erring on the side of liberty."

4) Roger Scruton on pop music and 5) a review of Scruton's book "Understanding Music: Philosophy and Interpretation" by Marc Brooks at MusicCriticism.com

6) Brendan O'Neill at Reason on "Weaponizing Mozart."

On the Sinfonia to Le Nozze di Figaro

Sinfonia to Le Nozze di Figaro

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. (KV.492)

Figaro was commissioned by Emperor Joseph II and the Imperial Italian Opera Company and premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on May 1, 1786.

Instrumentation: 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 clarin trumpets, timpani, and strings (2 violins, 2 violas, cello, bass.)

The score is available via the Neue Mozart-Ausgabe.

 Incipit. (click to enlarge)

John Eliot Gardiner conducting The English Baroque Soloists.

The piece–which is all about movement raised to its highest potential–steals in as though from a distance in its famous seven-bar opening phrase, needing two attempts to get under way. But now it stirs in every quarter, laughing, chuckling and triumphing, with new watercourses opening up as the floodtide rushes past, before the piece as a whole races toward its jubilant end in a bacchantic torrent entirely in keeping with Mozart's basic conception of his subject, an apotheosis of an untrammelled life force that could hardly be more infectious. [Abert, 935]

Indeed, what a glorious piece to set Figaro on its way. Where the overture to Die Entfuhrüng paused and took us aside for a look at a more tranquil place, the sinfonia to Figaro sweeps us up and never slows down. Mozart did, in fact, consider for Figaro an overture similar to his for Die Entfuhrüng and the folio shows an andante con moto in 6/8-time with the main melody in the oboe against pizzicato accompaniment in the strings. [1] He struck it out, though, and in its place we have this glorious sinfonia, a designation which, distinct from overture, makes this more of an opening concert piece.

In contrast to Mozart's earlier operas it is not bound to the work as Idomeno's overture is bound to the drama by a tragic pathos, or as Die Entführung's is in depicting an exotic land. It lacks the infamous chord in Don Giovanni and the threefold-chord of Die Zauberflöte that become motives throughout those works. Though it does not contain any explicit musical or dramatic connection to the opera, the mood and energy of the piece nonetheless have a great preparatory effect on the audience, sweeping us into the proper mood or at least sweeping away some of the day's cares with which we entered.

It is perhaps unavoidable to state the piece's form, which is that of a sonata without a development section. We will see in its stead significant contrast between the exposition and recapitulation, which Levarie suggests function as strophe and antistrophe, the latter "fulfilling what the exposition leaves undone." [Levarie, 3]

We open pianissimo in D with the strings offering the main theme along with the bassoon which adds a certain implacable eccentricity to the phrase. The woodwinds respond piano in a four-bar
arpeggio before the whole orchestra bursts forth at m. 12, winds and horns forte and strings fortissimo. Against the basses sputtering out quavers in D the winds, horns, and 2nd violins play crotchets, doubled on the strong beats by the timpani until the horns recede to the strong beats only and the winds subdivide the weak-beat crotchets into quavers, creating a rollicking dactylic motion with which we close the section. We then return (at m.18) to the opening material, now heightened with the oboe and flute and this time piano.

The start of the next section, m.35, beings forte but backs off quickly to piano and a thrice-repeated descending scale followed by forte chord of punctuation. At the fourth repetition, though, the punctuation and scale coincide, only the scale is ascending now and we are launched into a flurry of arpeggios and an "exuberantly powerful" [Abert, 936]  rhythm based on a simple figure of three crotchets before we slide back down again in a descending tonic scale.

Summary of Sections I-III

I. m.1-18

1. 7m. opening theme
2. 4m. arpeggio
3. 7m. descending tonic scale

II. m.19-34

1. 6m. opening theme with winds
2. 4m. arpeggio
3. 6m. descending tonic scale

III.  m.35-58

1. 10m. scalar theme
2. 4m. arpeggios and crotchet figure
3. 10m. descending tonic scale

Subsequent Sections

IV. m.59-84

This bridge passage is a particularly clear example of this overture's habit of proceeding in "fits and starts." [Abert, 936]. The 2nd violin and viola introduce a figure of eight 8th notes, the first of which is both fortepiano and staccato. In the next measure the figure is doubled on the strong beat by a whole note from the 1st violin and then two measures later the oboe joins in and the 1st violin introduces a sprightly, incipient version of the overture's main opening theme. The oboe elaborates a little, followed by the flute before the material repeats and the descending figure in the flute slides down into a forte unison. The tone suddenly waxes serious and we have a grave theme in the first violin repeated between more forte unisons and against incessant quavers in D.

 m.76-77.

The theme, though, quickly gives way to the old three-crotchet motive, increasing the tension as it ascends each measure, from G# on the last forte unison up through D until the basses come in on the dominant at m.85 and present us with a grand and lofty theme.

V. m.85-138

    m.85-106

m.85-87.

Yet this mood quickly reverses as this bass theme is taken up by the violins where it becomes, as Abert states with particular precision, "timid and even supplicatory." [Abert, 936.] The phrase is followed by a short but firm little phrase, first in the bassoon and oboe and then in the oboe and flute, as if the violin phrase is leaning on it for support, or perhaps leaning into the stronger phrase as a suppliant. In its third repetition it seemingly evaporates as it is taken up by the bassoon which chirps it out less seriously and staccato.

    m.107-138

Here the bassoon and violin glide and soar gloriously, free of the earlier turmoil. Yet after the flute joins them they slide right into a forte unison chord and the tension returns. The chord repeats several times, each time cutting off a theme in the 1st violins trying to get underway. After four thwarted attempts the theme gets cut off midway and a descending scale leads us into a recapitulation of the piece's opening, pianissimo. These structured interruptions, with dynamic markings every other measure, characterize the "fits and starts" progression of the sinfonia.

VI. m.139-235

Levarie discusses at length the complexities of the harmonics in the variations of the recapitulation. Rather than repeat his analysis I will note only the most prominent feature, the resolution at m. 203-208 of the a-sharp that derailed and delayed the successful completion of the ascending scale way back in the very 4th measure and set us on our many-coursed adventure.


VII. m.236-294 (end)

The recapitulation runs straightaway into the many-measure crescendo (a "Mannheim" crescendo) that begins the coda. The tension rises bar after bar spanning two octaves until it erupts forte into an outburst of the whole orchestra and a release into the three-crotchet motive (now with more force than ever) and then straightaway again into descending scales, first in the violins and then the woodwinds (against a trill on C# in the strings which gets fulfilled by the grace notes B-C# leading into the unison on D in the following measure.) This structurally and harmonically satisfying run is repeated twice. So precise is the structure of the piece, so measured its rhythmic phrasing and balance and so complementary its harmonic progression and structure to that rhythmic framework, that when we gradually come to a close we feel neither defrauded of more adventure nor exhausted from too much, but rather freed and vivified in perfect degree.

–

[1] This andante is presented both in Abert's W. A. Mozart (on p. 934) in the chapter on Figaro and in the NMA Critical Report on p. 330 in the section, "Striche und Änderungen von Mozarts Hand."

–

Bibliography

Abert, Hermann. W. A. Mozart. Yale University Press. New Haven and New York. 2007.

Levarie, Siegmund. Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro: A Critical Analysis. University of Chicago Press. Chicago. 1952.

Recommended

Platoff, John. Essay "Tonal Organization in the Opera Buffa of Mozart's Time" in Mozart Studies 2 ed. Cliff Eisen. Oxford University Press. NY. 1997.

Swain, Joseph P. Harmonic Rhythm: Analysis and Interpretation. Part II, Section 12, "Mozart: Overture to The Marriage of Figaro." Oxford University Press, NY. 2002.

Tovey, Donald Francis. Essays in Musical Analysis. (Six Volumes.) Volume IV: Illustrative Music: Overture to Le Nozze di Figaro, KV.492. Oxford University Press. London. 1935.

N.B. Though brief at only about one page, Tovey's essay is worth reading for its comparison to Cimarosa's Il Matrimonio Segreto and Tovey's habitual wit and concise insight.

Around the Web

For the week of Saturday, February, 20th through Friday, February, 26.

1) Via the Mises Institute Blog, "Alas, Poor Yorick! An Apology for the Human Race" by Albert Jay Nock, from "Snoring as a Fine Art."

2) In Humanities, Ammon Shea on Old English and "the brutality and elegance of our ancestral tongue."

3) Alison Flood at The Guardian on the discovery of a long-missing letter by René Descartes.

4) In City Journal, Nicole Gelinas on "Eminent Domain as Central Planning."

5) In the WSJ, William R. Snyder on Monks, Munich, and Strong Beer.

6) A review of "The Faith Instinct: How Religion Evolved and Why it Endures" by Nicholas Wade, in The Economist.

7) In The Guardian, "Ten Rules for Writing Fiction" from Elmore Leonard, Diana Athill, Margaret Atwood, Roddy Doyle, Helen Dunmore, Geoff Dyer, Anne Enright, Richard Ford, Jonathan Franzen, Esther Freud, Neil Gaiman, David Hare, PD James, AL Kennedy.

Music

8) Robert Greskovic at the WSJ interviews Mark Morris and discusses Mr. Morris' Dance Group at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.

9) Barbara Jepson at the WSJ interviews violinist Gil Shaham, performing in "'Concertos of the 1930s,' a project with major American and European orchestras that continues over the next year or so."

1. Shaham performing Prokofiev's 2nd Violin Concerto: III. Allegro, ben marcato.

10) Ellen Gamerman in the WSJ asks violinst Christian Tetzlaff about spending so much time traveling.

1. Tetzlaff performing J. S. Bach's Sonata No. 3 in C major, BWV.1005: III. Largo.

11) [Added 2/27]  Via Classic FM, composer, teacher, conductor, and Music Director of the San Francisco Symphony Michael Tilson Thomas received the National Medal of Arts.

1. Thomas conducting the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra performing Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 2 in F minor, IV. Finale: Allegro con fuoco.

12) From Warsaw, Vanessa Gera for the L. A. Times on Polish celebrations of the 200th anniversary of the birth of Frederic Chopin.

What I'm Reading

Charles Moores, in this January Telegraph piece, reviews the Hungarian writer Miklos Banffy's Transylvanian Trilogy. The wunderkind Andrew Cusack put me on the scent, and I've been enjoying the lengthy Banffy for several weeks now. His three-volume work, inevitably described as Tolstoyan by Moore, is a romp through Hapsburg Austro-Hungary as it neared the conflict that would dismember the ancient empire. Banffy's trilogy is an apt portrait of the vices of the aristocratic elites, Hungarian and Austrian alike, who were charged with the upkeep and well-being of the Hapsburg realms. His description of the wasted nights, playing at cards, whoring, and drinking, are mitigated by the presence of a few noble souls, who attempt to staunch the bleeding and suffering of the Empire's lesser subjects. 

Roger Scruton and the Fall

I missed these excellent Scrutonian reflections when they were published back in November, to commemorate the two-decade old fall of the Berlin Wall. His piece is shot with poignant remembrances of his persecuted colleagues behind the Iron Curtain, who struggled to keep alive the flame of Western culture in an inhospitable environment:

For ten years before 1989 I was in the habit of visiting Eastern Europe to support the fragile underground educational networks there. I would meet my contacts on street corners at prearranged times, to be taken by tram to some smoke-filled room in an outlying apartment, where a group of whispering “students” had gathered to meet me.

Every knock on the door was followed by a frozen silence and, from time to time, someone would lift a corner of the curtain and peer anxiously into the street. Books in many languages lined the walls and as often as not, a crucifix would be fastened to the wall above the shelves.  

The people I met were of many different casts of mind. Some, among the older generation, still maintained a belief in the “socialism with a human face” that had been announced by Alexander Dubcek, the Czechoslovak President, during the Prague Spring of 1968. Most of the younger people did not believe that socialism could wear a human face or that, if it tried to do so, it would look any better than one of those monsters with a human face painted by Hieronymus Bosch.

For the most part, the people I met were quiet, studious, often deeply religious, attempting to build shrines in the catacombs, around which small circles of marginalised people could gather to venerate the memory of their national culture. This was especially true of the Czechs, from whom their national culture had been officially confiscated after the Soviet invasion...

Participating in these clandestine meetings, Scruton confirmed a lesson he'd already learned when he witnessed the rioting of Parisian students in 1968, that love and honor for Western culture, coupled with a critical and discriminating attititude, were safeguards, even if only personal, against the worst depredations of collectivism, liberalism, and totalitarianism

[L]earning, culture and the European spiritual heritage were, for them, symbols of their own inner freedom, and of the national independence they sought to remember, if not to regain, they looked on those things with an unusual veneration. As a visitor from the world of fun, pop and comic strips I was amazed to discover students for whom words devoted to such things were wasted words, and who sat in those little pockets of underground air studying Greek literature, German philosophy, medieval theology and the operas of Verdi and Wagner.

But what of the dreams nurtured in the Slavic catacombs? Read Scruton's potent little editorial, and ponder.

Movie Review: 2081

Directed by Chandler Tuttle. 2009.

The year was 2081 and everyone was finally equal. They weren't only equal before God and the law, you see, they were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter than anybody else, nobody was better looking than anybody else, nobody was stronger or quicker than anybody else. And all this equality was due to the 211th, 212th, and 213th Amendments to the Constitution.

And to the unceasing vigilance of the United States Handicapper General. The strong wore weights to make them weaker, the intelligent wore earpieces that kept them from taking unfair advantage of their brains. Even the beautiful sometimes wore masks in situations where their beauty might simply be too distracting. It was the golden age of equality.

Such is the state of equality in 2081, Chandler Tuttle's directorial debut based on Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s short story Harrison Bergeron. Though clocking in at only 25 minutes the film makes quite an impact depicting a citizen defying a society in which equality is imposed by governmental force. The situation might sound preposterous but the program's inception, suggested only visually, is surprisingly plausible: we see the Handicapper General making a political speech and behind her are people holding signs for "Equality." Like today or in recent history when such a sign at a similar event might read "x for y" with the name of the interest-group (x) and issue (y) of the hour, these signs are simply for "equality." Never mind the ideas behind the issue or its morality or legality. They demand equality now.

There is a certain frightening plausibility to that situation, not that people would end up forcibly handicapped, but how many could be persuaded of the idea's soundness in the first place and that they themselves, or someone in their name, could take the authority to enforce the idea on the unwilling. There is also something unmistakably progressive about the situation. "Final (or Finally) Equality" the sign reads, with the implication that now, now we've finally progressed to such an enlightened state where everyone is. Now we have made everyone what they should be. The weight of one document that stood as a bulwark against such overreaching, the Constitution, evaporates at the phrase "213th Amendment." This mention of the Constitution fails to console but not because it is old or out of date, rather because it too seems weighted down under hundreds of emendations, exceptions, and inclusions.  Yet even in 2081 the world had not quite progressed enough for some as, "Some things about living were still not quite right, though. April, for instance, continued to drive people crazy by not quite being springtime." If only someone could fix that. That the director was able to suggest all of this with one phrase and the above shot exemplifies how the film remains full and effective despite its brevity.

The characterizations of the Bergerons are likewise effective and economical. George, clearly a man strong of mind and body since he wears both weights and noise-generating headphones, contrasts sharply, even pitifully, with his simpleton wife. When discussing the latest outburst of his head device, she idly says how if she were Hanidcapper General she would make the noises chimes on Sunday, "just chimes, kind of in honor of religion." She says it as people often do when out of idleness they wax, "You know what would be nice?. . ." She is earnest but she really has not thought about the issue. Again, though, there is a frightening plausibility to what she says: Imagine if someone who had not really though his ideas through, in terms of legality, logical consistency, and morality, were put in charge of things. Imagine if others were subject to this person's whim. In 2081, that is reality.

She says she would make a good Handicapper General, joking of course, and George replies, "You would." Yet in a way perhaps she did make the Handicapper General, since she is just the type of individual who would have supported even an immoral, illegal, illogical idea simply because at first hearing "it sounded like a good idea." Indeed it might sound like a good idea to someone knitting a fourth foot of sleeve to a sweater and to someone who thinks a stuttering newscaster should get a "big raise just for trying." To her husband who cannot move or think any longer, it probably sounded like a walking nightmare, but since he is now incapacitated, what he thought really does not matter anymore.

Their son Harrison, though, is still a nightmare for the state: a talented man who will not bend to being handicapped. A news report breaks into the ballet his parents are watching with the film's most absurd and dystopian line:

Pleased be advised that Bergeron is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped, and is considered to be extremely dangerous.

Of course given the world and rules of 2081, that statement is true. In a land of ordained egalitarianism Harrison Bergeron is not equal, he is great. Harrison's exceptional talents have made him an abomination and his unwillingness to be degraded has made him a fugitive. In his final scene, in which he outwits the Handicapper General, Bergeron goes out in a blaze of beauty and defiance. 

When his father sees the even on the television, he struggles against his device to remember when they came to take Harrison away and to put together that event with what he just saw on the television. Yet all he can do is feel sad. When he confesses this his wife, who missed the entire broadcast as she washed the dishes, she says, "You should forget sad things. I always do anyway." With that ending I wonder how we can expect Harrison's act to "change everything." Without getting bogged down in minutiae about the "mind device" I will simply say the ending is ambiguous. It is plausible both to infer those smart enough to rise up are too mentally incapacitated to do so or that enough people saw and understood the broadcast enough to react against it. While the ending changes what Harrison Bergeron's act might have accomplished, it certainly does not change what it stood for.