Just My Type by Simon Garfield

Source of Book: I own this.

This book was a gift from my brother, who said that it would either turn out to be really good, or really boring. Since this is a book about fonts and typography, this proves that he is almost as much of a nerd as I am.

I will assume that any reader of this blog has at least a passing knowledge of fonts, since he or she owns or has access to a computer. It was the computer, of course, that made fonts known to the average person, rather than just those in the printing business.

My family’s first computer was a Commodore 128, purchased when I was probably around ten years old. I had played on a friend’s computer on a few occasions previously; and, while I found a few adventure-type games interesting, I was primarily interested in the programs that made publishing possible. I was fascinated by anything that allowed me to print stuff. Nothing was quite as interesting, however, as two particular programs. I believe they were entitled “Printshop” and “Newsroom,” and allowed the printing of greeting cards and banners for the first, and basic newsletters by the second. It was through these programs, eventually purchased for our own computer, that the young version of myself gained a knowledge of fonts. And, it goes without saying, did my best to bankrupt my parents through excessive use of ink and paper.

I recall that there were around a half dozen fonts available for Printshop, mostly decorative rather than readable at small sizes. None were particularly memorable, other than a “tech” style font that looked something like this:

 
While I loved printing those ten page banners and greeting cards for every occasion, I enjoyed Newsroom even more. There was something fun about setting writing imaginary stories (and a few that were true) and “selling” my creations to family and friends (for the cost of making copies). Eventually, I did the editing and design for a home school group we were part of during my high school years. I suppose it was natural that I would eventually end up on the editorial committee for our County Bar Association.

Newsroom had a total of three fonts. One was a basic “serif” font like Times New Roman, which I use for the vast majority of my writing, including this blog. (I know, it’s boring, but it is available on everyone’s computer, is easily readable at small sizes, and is acceptable for use in legal documents filed with every court in the nation.) For those uninitiated into basic typography terms, “serifs” are the little protruding details at the ends of some strokes. If you look closely at the letters in this sentence, you can see them at the bottoms of most of the letters. In contrast, a “sans serif” font, such as Arial, lacks these additional details. In addition to a single serif and sans serif font, Newsroom had a Gothic Style font, which imitates the original hand lettering of the middle ages, and was widely imitated by early printers. It is also pretty much unreadable to our modern eyes, except at the larger sizes used for headers. Needless to say, I used all three fonts in various combinations for fun, until I eventually decided that, at least at the terrible screen resolutions of my old Commodore, serif fonts were the way to go - unless I wanted to go blind. This is probably the reason I still prefer good old Times to Arial or Helvetica.

This book is not a boring treatise on typography - although it has plenty of useful information. It is written in the form of a series of stories about the history of typography from Gutenberg to modern times, with a focus on the stories of the development of the most influential and popular fonts.

Some of the fun tales include the famous “San Serrife” hoax of 1977 (see below), and the history of interesting fonts used for movies and albums. (The beautiful font, “Albertus” used on such works as Coldplay’s Parachutes, for example.)

I also found much of the history to be fascinating. We take for granted the use of serif fonts derived from Roman and Italian sources in our printed materials. However, Gutenberg and his successors originally preferred the Gothic style fonts, and it was a hundred years before the new “Venetian” style printing became popular. (Much to the disgust of the traditionalists, too!) The Gothic was not content to fade away, however, and lingered on with a few enthusiastic partisans. Newspapers have often used the Gothic script for their mastheads, of course. The Nazis considered modern sans serif fonts to be “degenerate,” meaning Jewish, for some reason not particularly historical, leading to a revival of the Gothic blackletter. In our times, heavy metal bands and tattoos still utilize these fonts, probably for their association with the Nazis as well as their inherent heaviness and emotional impact.

Another fun association is that of “Trajan,” which has become the font of choice for historical movies. The stereotypical “voice-over” artist for movie trailers presumably uses Trajan for his business cards.



One of the most familiar fonts is Garamond, which is used for the United States editions of Harry Potter, and also for those formative books by Dr. Seuss.

My new hero, after reading this book, is Aldus Manutius, who invented my favorite form of punctuation, the semi-colon - and is also credited with establishing the modern book trade with his affordable editions of the great Greek and Latin classics.

A few other fun discussions include the timeless “serif” versus “sans serif” debate. Which is more legible? There is yet to appear a definitive answer, although there is some slight indication that serif might be less tiring to the eyes on paper, at least in long works. Also, is type better designed digitally, or on paper in an old fashioned analogue style? Can a better sentence than “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog” be invented to show all twenty-six letters? Finally, is Helvetica (used by Apple - and everywhere else) the typographical equivalent of the Borg?

Whatever your opinions on these important questions, if you care about typography and printing - or even about the display on your smart phone - you will likely find this book to be a fun and informative read.

Sweetness and Power by Sidney W. Mintz

Source of book: Borrowed from the Library

Date originally published on Facebook: June 24, 2011

“Honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.” ~Touchstone in Shakespeare’s As You Like It

Shakespeare wrote these lines at a time when sugar and honey were still vying for dominance in their uses as sweetener and preservative. Both were primarily used by the upper class due to their expense. How and why did this change?

This is a fascinating book on the sociology history of sugar. In this case, sugar means sucrose, derived primarily from sugar cane. There is only a brief mention of sugar beets and corn syrup – sources which now dominate our diet. This is perhaps natural considering the book was published in 1986 after a decade’s worth of research. At that time, the transition from sugar to corn syrup in soft drinks had just begun, and beet sugar was less discussed than cane sugar.

How exactly did sugar go from an extravagant luxury the source of one-sixth of the calories consumed by the English speaking world? This book attempts to answer the question by looking at three facets of the history of sugar.

The first facet is the production side of the sugar industry. Originally, sugar cane was grown in South Asia, and became popular among the wealthiest of the Islamic world. At the time, the production of usable sugar from the cane was a labor intensive and inefficient process, making sugar costly on the scale of pepper and other spices. Unsurprisingly, this made sugar an easy representation of wealth and power.

Sugar was initially used at this time as a spice and medicine, not as a source of food. Things changed, first gradually, and then rapidly, with the development of the slave colonies in the Caribbean in the 1500s and 1600s. Mintz makes a convincing argument that the sugar plantation was the forerunner of what we now call factory capitalism. (Not to be confused with free enterprise, as so many do today.) Keep in mind that this pre-dated the industrial revolution by a few hundred years. A successful plantation required the infusion of capital to build the infrastructure necessary: irrigation, cane presses, refining equipment. It also required a labor force. In the factory capitalism model, the workers are free, if not exactly powerful. On a plantation, of course, the slaves were held by force. However, with that major exception, many of the mechanics are the same.

The increasing industrialization of the production of sugar lead to drops in price, eventually making it affordable for the masses. Mintz, however, questions whether this could have happened had the demand not kept pace with the supply.

This leads to the second part of the equation. Sugar once represented wealth in the same way that gold and silver did. This lead to some interesting medical remedies from the era, including the use of crushed pearls and gems to “treat” disease. Likewise, sugar was then thought of as a panacea. It could cure everything! A quick view of the advertisements for snake oil products today shows that nothing has changed: find a rare food product from a tropical country, make claims, and get rich.

As sugar became affordable to the upper middle class, it took on a broader role in diet. It was during this period that elaborate desserts became fashionable. The use of sugar in this way trickled down the economic ladder as prices fell.

In Mintz’ view, the change that brought sugar from a luxury to a necessity was its use in tea. The sweetening of a bitter, stimulating beverage came to be part of the very identity of the English – something the poorest citizen could afford as a luxury. The history of sugar’s uses is a fascinating topic which Mintz approaches a bit more academically than I would have preferred.

The third part of the picture is the sociological changes that led to sugar being used as a significant source of calories. I will not attempt to go through the whole history here, but give a little idea.

In general, the factory system removed women from the home and their role as primary preparers of food. Sugar helped this process by making possible condiments such as jam and treacle, which, when added to bread, saved preparation time. A slice of bread by itself was cold comfort, not a meal. The use of sugar could make it pass for a meal. The need here was to save preparation time. Previously, porridge and broths would be a significant part of the diet. These could even be obtained at the same or lower cost, but they required time – a dwindling resource.

It was striking to me that many of the sugar related ills we see in our current society have their roots back 250 years. Sugared beverages contributing too many calories? Check. Lack of time to prepare food leading to increased use of sugar and fats? Check. Women, children, and the poor consuming higher percentages of sugar? Check. Obesity itself only started its climb with the disappearance of hard manual labor and generally insufficient caloric intake. Still, the causes go back a long time in history.

This book does raise an interesting question, however. Can we as a society roll back the advance of obesity without addressing the issue of how to make time to prepare healthy food? It is chiefly the shortage of time, not of money, that leads to poor choices in food. A quick survey of the grocery store is sufficient to see that pre-prepared food is expensive. It also contains plenty of hidden sugar. As in 1750, the reason the sugary, more expensive food is chosen is that it is quick. Who will cook the healthy food?

In my own family, the answer is that we split the job. Our children, regardless of gender, will learn to cook. It is worrisome to note, however, that a significant portion of the population has never cooked something that didn’t come out of a box. I fear we will continue to just keep adding more and more sugar as an easy and relatively cheap source of calories. I’m not sure what the cure is here. A wholesale return to the middle ages with most of the population growing its own food seems extreme. A return to the 1950s, as some propose, would not go back far enough to a time when sugar was a spice rather than a major source of calories.

This book is a bit dry in spots, mostly due to its scholarly intent. Mintz has a story to tell, but he also has to support it with source material. This leads to some repetition and redundancy as he makes sure that each fact he presents is shown by evidence, not just by assertion. As a lawyer, this is a familiar process. Presumably it will be as well to most who have studied the sciences. However, if you stick with it through the academic sections, Mintz tells a compelling story – one that is by turns fascinating, intriguing, and cautionary.

Thoughts on Banned Books Week

Banned books week is September 30 through October 6 this year (2012). I have decided to observe this literary holiday each year by reading a banned book. There appear to be enough to keep me occupied for some time.

Banned Books Week selections (updated yearly).

First, a distinction needs to be made between banned books and “challenged” books. In order to qualify as a banned book, the book must have been forbidden publication or possession by a government. In contrast, a book that parents or others seek to remove from a library or school curriculum is merely “challenged”, even if the book is in fact removed.

In my opinion, there is a difference between the two. Not all books are appropriate for children or teens, and those who wish to read a challenged book anyway can presumably locate a library or bookstore. Those books actually banned were denied to all unless they were willing and able to break the law. On a related note, much of what we call “censorship” isn’t really censorship. The original definition of censorship was “The practice of officially examining books, movies, etc., and suppressing unacceptable parts.” Censorship requires actual power to suppress, not merely disapproval. Libraries have a limited budget, and must choose which books to buy. (For reasons which escape me, the library system for the San Joaquin Valley - serving roughly four million people - has 37 copies of Eat, Pray, Love, but only ONE of Listen to This, which is backordered for weeks. Not a choice I would have made.) Similarly, students cannot read every important book, much less the unimportant ones, so choices must be made.

While I have thus limited my list to truly banned books, I include books that have been banned by any government, at any time in history.

I believe that there is value in reading banned books. As an inquiring mind, one often wonders what was believed so unacceptable as to provoke a violent reaction. The answer in many cases throws an unflattering light on the persons and institutions that banned the book.

Generally speaking, there are two reasons books have been banned. The first is the presence of material deemed morally unacceptable by the authorities. Interestingly, the application of this standard is inconsistent at best. Certain nations at certain time periods have shown more interest in suppressing smut than others. Thus, France was the source of much scandalous material during the Victorian age, while England and the United States attempted to ban the same books. Also, exactly what is deemed objectionable has varied considerably.

A couple of examples come to mind on this point. The Grapes of Wrath was banned in many states because of a scene involving a bare breast. Never mind that this was perhaps the least titillating scene of all time. (Pardon the bad pun.) On the other hand, the scene in Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night was allowed, despite a humorous and ribald reference to the same anatomy.

I also noted a modern version of this listening to the radio on the way home from work today. Nickelback’s song, Rockstar, has several drug references, some of which are bleeped on the radio version. I am not quite sure exactly it is bad to hear “drugs come cheap” or “drug dealer on speed dial” but is fine to say “pop my pills from a pez dispenser.”

The second reason for censorship never goes out of style. The ruling powers throughout history take a serious dislike to criticism, and have used their powers to suppress it. The majority of the books on any banned book list, therefore, will have political content that was in some way offensive to those who wished to cling to their power and avoid dissent.

Thus, one of the satisfactions of reading a banned book is to defy autocratic despots, past and present.

Last year’s selection was Areopagitica, by John Milton. To read it was to stick it to both Charles the First and Oliver Cromwell’s Parliament. Another favorite read of the past was The Satanic Verses, by Salman Rushdie - a particular un-favorite of Mullahs everywhere. 

 

***

 2025 Update: 

My comments on the distinction between challenged and banned haven't aged well. Back in the Obama era, a few challenges here and there seemed more like nuisances, rather than a legitimate threat. Now, with astroturfed groups like "Moms For Liberty" joining with the modern fascist movement in places like Texas and Florida, access to books that challenge white supremacy, heteronormativity, and misogyny are increasingly successfully targeted for removal from public libraries and schools. It is no accident that most of the targeted authors are female, non-white, LGBTQ, disabled, or some combination thereof. It is a concerted effort to silence voices that would challenge the power of the bigoted ruling minority. 

I haven't yet decided if I will consider adding "challenged" books to my official reading - I already read them, of course, and blog about them - because I am nowhere close to running out of banned books to read. 

I do encourage my readers to seek out books by women, people of color, LGBTQ, and disabled authors - there are some real gems there, which will expand your minds and hearts if you let them. My hope is that this blog will introduce people to the books that the bigots don't want you to read.  

And, because I cannot resist linking a little a propos music. Nobody can invoke Balzac like Hermione Gingold. 

 
 

Chief Pre-Shakespearean Drama - Part 1

Source of Book: I own this

I am reading this book in several parts, due to its long length and the difficulty of the language. Most of the short plays in the sections that I read for this installment are in Middle English. I am not exactly unfamiliar with Middle English, but I am not fluent either, so the reading takes time and thought. This collection was published in 1924, edited by Joseph Quincy Adams.

The history of English drama dates back to the Middle Ages, at which time it was primarily associated with religious themes. Indeed, this book starts with miniature dramas that were inserted into the Easter church services, demonstrating the Resurrection. Included are four different versions of the Sepulchrum dramas, showing an evolution from a minimal call and response lasting perhaps a minute, to a complete acting out of the scene at the empty tomb taken from the Gospels. In the first version, dating from around the Ninth Century, two small groups perform the drama. “Whom seek ye in the sepulchre, O followers of Christ?” and so forth. By the time of the last, from the Thirteenth Century, there are many individual roles, and costumes and sets have appeared as well.

Also included from this time period are plays about the appearances of Christ after the Resurrection, the visit of the magi, the shepherds, Herod’s slaughter of the innocents, and the prophecies about the birth of Christ. All of these plays are in Latin, as was the rest of the church service. Presumably, the acting itself aided comprehension since few if any laymen could understand the words.

Also notable was the fact that all parts, male and female, were acted by men and boys - a tradition that carried to the days of Shakespeare and beyond.

I also was a bit startled to find casual anti-semitism throughout the early plays. Particularly in those from the Thirteenth Century, there are gratuitous slurs, which were readily accepted in that time, but are uncomfortable to modern ears. For example, after lamenting Christ’s death, one of the “Three Marys” says, “Alas, vile race of Jews, whom a dire madness makes frenzied! Detestable people!”

This is anachronistic as well, as all the characters (except for the Roman soldiers) are Jews - as is Christ. One tends to forget that the history of Europe in the last 1000 years is a history of anti-semitism. Even such a revolutionary as Martin Luther wrote screeds against the Jews, and suggested that they be exterminated by pogroms. Just as slavery was commonly accepted in the United States 200 years ago, hatred of the Jews was an accepted fact of life for centuries. In that sense, Hitler was not so much an anomaly as unusually successful in carrying out the popular will.

Although these earliest plays were anonymous, several of the plays written and performed about that time are attributed to Hilarius, who is believed to have been an Englishman, although he spent some of his career in France. (It occurs to me that Hilarius should have written comedy, had he lived in a later age. His name, at least, would have been perfect.) Hilarius is the likely author of the play about the conversion of St. Paul, along with three dramas telling of different incidents in the life of St. Nicholas.

After this time, the Latin gave way to the vernacular - that is, the language spoken by the people. In England, this was the Middle English of Chaucer and his contemporaries. Three plays from the early period are included: the usual empty tomb, Christ after his resurrection, and the shepherds. This is where the reading became more difficult. My experience in Middle English is limited to some Chaucer and the extensive quotations in C. S. Lewis’ book on Medieval romances, The Allegory of Love. Thus, I had to re-learn some of the words, and pronounce everything in my head so as to hear beyond the archaic and inconsistent spelling.

The final section that I read in this book is that of the Craft Cycles. Eventually, drama moved out of the church and into the streets, with rolling wagons with a two-tiered stage, called a “pageant,” moving from town to town and performing a complete cycle of Biblical stories, from the fall of Lucifer to Judgment day. There are a total of nineteen cycle plays in this book, although the complete cycle contained about a dozen more. The editor selected the best of the plays, from several sources. I loved the names of the guilds that wrote and performed these plays: The Grocers of Norwich, The Glovers of Wakefield, The Waterleaders and Drawers in Dye of Chester, The Tile Thatchers of York, The Shearmen and Taylors of Coventry. Others reference the towns of performance: acted at N. Towne, or at Wakefield. One pictures something similar to Community Theater. Those of the community with a dramatic bent getting together to act out the familiar stories for an enthusiastic and occasionally irreverent audience.

A pagaent wagon. The "roof" portion would be used for God and other heavenly characters.

Signs of the plebeian audience for the plays can be found in the frequent episodes of low comedy inserted into the text. For example, in the story of Noah, his wife is portrayed as a shrew, needing a good beating now and again - and giving one to Noah in return.

[Noah, addressing the audience.]

NOAH: Yee men that has wifis, whyls they ar yong,

If ye luf youre lifis, chastice thare tong.

To se sich stryfis wedmen emong.

Bot I, as have blys, shall chasyse this!

WIFE: Yit may ye mus, Nicholl Nedy!

NOAH: I shall make the still as stone, bhynnar of blunder!

I shall bete the, bak and bone, and breke all in sonder.

[Fighting ad lib, with Noah finally victorious.]

WIFE: Out, alas, I am gone! Out apon te, mans wonder!

NOAH: Se how she ca grone and I lie under!

Bot, wife, in this haste let us ho,

For my bak is nere in two.

WIFE: And I am bet so blo that I may not thryfe.

And so forth, throughout the play. Also, in the story of the announcement of the birth of Christ to the shepherds, there is an extended story about a no-good sheep-stealing character and his attempts to disguise the stolen lamb as a newborn baby. Various incidents like this appear in the plays, much like Shakespeare’s addition of characters like Falstaff into otherwise serious historical plays.

Another odd anachronism that appears in these plays is the fact that all of the villains, from Pharaoh to Herod, pray to “Mahound,” known to us as Mohammed. Since Mohammed probably lived around 600 years after the birth of Christ, this is wildly inaccurate, of course. It is, however, common in works of the era, when historical knowledge, to say nothing of accuracy, was considered rather unimportant. Thus, the “Jews” were a foreign group, different from Christ and his disciples; the setting of the stories is sometimes clearly meant to be English locations; and all the villains worship Allah.

On the other hand, some sources of humor are apparently timeless. When Balaam is hired by King Balak to curse the Israelites (remember the talking donkey?), he becomes incensed by Balaam’s inability to carry out his orders. After Balaam ends up blessing Israel, Balak explodes.

BALAK: What the devilles eyles the, poplart? Thy speach is not worth a fart!

Despite the occasional displays of ignorance and low-brow humor, the Craft Cycle plays are extraordinary for their use of scripture. In an era when few could read English, let alone the Latin Vulgate, these plays are filled with direct quotations and the letter, not just the spirit, of the original. Once Wycliffe translated part of the New Testament in the Fourteenth Century, the scriptures began to be available to the most wealthy of the educated classes. It was not until the work of Tyndale and the Geneva Bible which was primarily his work was printed in the early 1500s that the average person could own and read an English Bible. Thus, these plays were remarkable for their role in bringing the Biblical stories to the masses, disguised, perhaps, as entertainment.

Taken as a whole, this first part of the collection has been an enlightening tour of Medieval drama. I look forward to the next installment, which includes the Morality Plays, and the early farces.

An interesting look at the 2010 production of the Mystery Plays in York.

Dr. Thorne by Anthony Trollope

Source of Book: I own complete Barsetshire books.
Date originally published on Facebook: August 15, 2010

Regular readers of this blog know that I am a huge fan of Anthony Trollope. Here is my first full-length review of one of his novels: 

Marriage! Money! Blood! Psychological Analysis! It must be another Trollope.

One of my goals in life is to introduce my friends to this underrated Victorian author. During his lifetime, Trollope was popular, on the same level as Dickens and Collins. However, he made a fatal mistake near the end of his life, and his reputation never recovered. Trollope was unfortunately honest in his autobiography when he admitted that he diligently wrote a certain number of words and pages each day. This, of course, flew in the face of the preferred narrative: The Brilliant, Moody Artist is suddenly struck by Inspiration, writing furiously while the muse is with him. The idea that art might be produced by hard work was too much for the romantic to bear, and Trollope's reputation fell.

Not only did his books lose much of their popularity, his other contribution to the world also was forgotten. Trollope spent his early career working for the Post Office. He invented the postal drop box, the one found on most city corners in England.This was one of several innovations that can be traced to his efforts. He probably deserved some renown on the basis of his work in this area alone. However, he also enjoyed writing, and had some considerable success. With 40 or so novels and a number of non-fiction works, he was fairly prolific – a considerable advantage to an avid reader.



As to the subject book, it is one of a series, The Barsetshire Chronicles, which follows the stories of the residents of an imaginary cathedral town and the surrounding area. There are a total of 6 books in the series, starting with The Warden, an early success for Trollope. Dr.Thorne is number 3.


As with most Trollope novels, the book examines the themes of love and money, as applied to the minor gentry. Dr. Thorne's illegitimate niece Mary falls in love with Frank Gresham, the son of the local squire. The Gresham estate has been largely impoverished by Frank's parents, through the poor management of his father and especially the profligate spending of his mother, Lady Arabella.


The solution is, of course, that Frank must marry money. Frank has other ideas, and is determined to marry whom he chooses.

As is typical with Trollope, he refuses to let the plot drive the book. The reader will generally have a good idea how the book will end because Trollope deliberately defuses the suspense. His craft is shown in how he works out the motives and actions of the characters in the process.


If I were to list the two best things about Trollope, it would have to be this: he writes realistic characters, and he is subtle and gentle in his satire. These two things work together. All of Trollope's characters refuse to fall into categories. It is rare to encounter a true villain, and the protagonists are all flawed and complex. This is not to say that there are no admirable characters. There are, and such characters are in many ways more admirable and sympathetic because of their humanity. Likewise, the less likeable characters are complex and understandable. Trollope recognizes that there are few truly evil persons but many flawed, selfish, frustrating persons.Trollope strikes me as writing the best female characters of any male author I have read to date. The big weakness of Dickens, for example, is his inability to write a female character that was not a caricature. Although Dr. Thorne does not have a female quite on the level with Caroline in The Bertrams, one of his best novels, this novel is primarily driven by the female characters. It is their thoughts that occupy the bulk of the pages.



The second strength of Trollope's writing is his subtlety in satire. He refuses to take the obvious shot straight on, but instead, with understated language, allows gentle wit to have its devastating effect. The key here is to read carefully so as not to miss the jewels hidden in the language. The advantage of Trollope's gentle approach is that the reader is forced to see himself and his own weakness and cannot simply laugh at the pathetic straw man set up by the author.


Dr. Thorne has all of these elements, particularly the devastating deconstruction of class, money, and hypocrisy. Particularly good is his portrayal of Lady Arabella, who cannot fathom that she herself has ruined the Gresham estate. For the best of motives (as she sees it), she is eager to sacrifice her son's heart to restore his wallet.


The weakness of the book is the plot, which counts on certain legal facts which are at best doubtful. (Lawyer quibble here) Trollope himself recognized this, and was a bit embarrassed that Dr. Thorne was one of his most popular books. However, despite this minor defect, a thoroughly enjoyable read.


As an additional note to prospective Trollope readers: Dr. Thorne, though part of a series, need not be read in sequence. This book would not be a bad introduction to Trollope for the reader who is unsure if he or she is willing to commit to reading several books.

Anthony Trollope, another contestant in the Victorian Facial Hair Pageant.

The Flying Inn by G. K. Chesterton

Source of book: I own this.

A science fiction novel about prohibition. That is the best way I can find describe this uncannily prophetic and disturbing book.

G. K. Chesterton wrote The Flying Inn in 1914, fully five years before Prohibition in the United States. However, the general movement itself had been in place since the 1840s, and a few members of the British Commonwealth had already taken restrictive measures. (Prince Edward Island and portions of Australia, for example.) However, the book does not limit itself to the prohibition of alcohol as its topic, but takes on a whole host of ills that he felt were related: vegetarianism, higher criticism, and Islam. It is these latter topics that make this book seem to predict current events and currents of thought.

Chesterton has been one of my favorite authors since my teens, when I discovered the Father Brown stories. Like Winston Churchill and Theodore Roosevelt, he has always seemed to me to be one of the truly audacious, larger than life characters that would be great fun to invite to an otherwise boring dinner party, but a bit dangerous to be around in a brawl - or a war. Churchill, of course, was a driving force behind the Allied victory in World War Two, and saw more clearly than anyone else the menace that Communism, and Stalin in particular, would become. Roosevelt had the vision to establish the National Park system, at the time a revolutionary concept of its own. They will both be remembered for generations. Chesterton, alas, seems to be largely forgotten. Perhaps it is because his writing is unusual. Perhaps it is because he never wielded political power. Perhaps it is because the discussion of great ideas has taken the back seat to the discussion of reality television. Whatever the case is, I find that there are few of my acquaintance who even recognize his name.

There are two phrases that I believe exemplify Chesterton’s impact. Oddly, I heard them both in the context of music, spoken by two different conductors regarding completely different musical works.

For his tendency to come up with outrageous paradoxes, out-of-left-field spins on each issue, and a general bombastic and unpredictable realness, I cannot but think of the description of a big, red, rotten tomato thrown up onto the stage. Mr. K used this to describe a “major-minor” chord in Poulenc’s Gloria.

The second phrase is “a good old fashioned romp,” commonly used by Mr. M to describe the final movement of a typical symphony. Chesterton’s novels have that quality of exuberant, slightly off kilter good spirits. Of good English ale and a song sung at full volume.

The Flying Inn certainly fits both of these descriptions. Phillip Ivywood, a power-hungry aristocrat in Chesterton’s vision of the (not-so-distant) future England, is able to pass a bill effectively prohibiting the sale of alcohol. Well, he doesn’t prohibit it, but he limits it to establishments bearing a proper sign. Which are then prohibited. In this, he is influenced by a Turkish philosopher - or charlatan - who attempts to prove that England was once Muslim, and that everything in existence can be linked to a predecessor in the East.

Humphrey Pump, the owner of a tavern, and Chesterton’s stand-in for the true Englishman becomes reacquainted with his friend Patrick Dalroy, an enormous and fiery Irishman, formerly of the Navy, who tears the sign off of “The Old Ship,” moments before Ivywood is able to confiscate it. Dalroy is essentially Chesterton, except without the self restraint. The two of them set off on the run with a cask of rum and a round of cheese, staying a mere step away from the pursuit.

Along the way, they convert to their cause the poet Dorian Wimpole, Ivywood’s cousin. In true Chesterton fashion, this conversion is accomplished when Pump and Dalroy semi-accidentally steal Wimpole’s car. Eventually, all England rises in revolt against Ivywood, and overwhelms the Islamic army he has raised to subdue England.

Thus, what begins as a farcical romp is transformed into a metaphoric vision at the end. This is true Chesterton, of course. Many of his novels take this turn at the end from a tale that, while fantastic, is at least bound to the earth by a thread; to a completely unexpected, often apocalyptic place, having implications far beyond the bounds of the original story. (The Ball and the Cross, and The Man Who Was Thursday come to mind as other examples.) The rotten tomato is served up, leaving the reader to contemplate exactly what happened, and ponder the implications of Chesterton’s vision.

In order to enjoy Chesterton, one must accept these quirks, and enjoy the ride. Fortunately, great lines abound. Chesterton, despite his seeming randomness, has penetrating insight beyond the surface to the rather unpleasant unacknowledged motives underlying many modern truisms. He reliably goes contrary to the conventional wisdom, completely avoiding the predictable arguments and stalemates. (Chesterton’s takedown of the philosophy of his friend George Bernard Shaw is particularly memorable for making the bold - and true - claim that being “misunderstood” is an advantage, not a disadvantage.)

There are a number of things I took away from this book. First of all, right from the outset, when Chesterton introduces the Turk, Misisra Ammon, he gives a striking example of eisegeses - that is, the process of interpreting a text t in such a way that it introduces one's own presuppositions, agendas, and/or biases into and onto the text. Ammon makes the claim that all familiar tavern names are derived from Muslim influences. Thus, “The Green Dragon” is not from the legend of St. George, but a corruption of “The Agreeing Dragoman.” As one who has heard a number of examples of truly bad preaching, this whole process is far too familiar. (Worst of all time is probably the use of “it came to pass” as a proof text for trouble never lasting.)

In a related section, Chesterton likewise skewers those who attempt to interpret away the meaning of a text by introducing completely irrelevant social and historical theories to render anything - absolutely anything - as meaningless and utter nonsense.

Another great takedown is also far ahead of its time. Again, this was written in 1914, not 1965:

[Dalroy speaking:] “I think modern people have somehow got their minds all wrong about human life. They seem to expect what Nature has never promised; and then try to ruin all that nature has really given. At all those atheist chapels of Ivywood’s they’re always talking of Peace, Perfect Peace, and Utter Peace, and Universal Joy and souls that beat as one. But they don’t look any more cheerful than anyone else; and the next thing they do is to start smashing a thousand good jokes and good stores and good songs and good friendships by pulling down ‘The Old Ship’. Now it seems to me that this is asking for too much and getting too little. I don’t know whether God means a man to have happiness in that All in All and Utterly Utter sense of happiness...I can’t pretend to Peace and Joy, and all the rest of it, particularly in this original briar-patch. I haven’t been happy, Hump, but I have had a jolly time.”

This ties in with several other passages where Chesterton is able to expand on this idea.

Later, after several scenes in which it is revealed that Ivywood is advocating vegetarianism, Dalroy and Pump discuss the poet Wimpole.

“But what’s odd about them is that they try to be simple and never clear away a single thing that’s complicated. If they have to choose between beef and pickles, they always abolish the beef. If they have to choose between a meadow and a motor, they forbid the meadow. Shall I tell you the secret? These men only surrender the things that bind them to other men. Go and dine with a temperance millionaire and you won’t find he’s abolished the hors d’oeuvres or the five courses or even the coffee. What he’s abolished is the port and sherry, because poor men like that as well as rich. Go a step farther, and you won’t find he’s abolished the fine silver forks and spoons, but he’s abolished the meat, because poor men like meat–when they can get it. Go a step farther, and you won’t find he goes without gardens or gorgeous rooms, which poor men can’t enjoy at all. But you will find he boasts of early rising, because sleep is a thing poor men can still enjoy. About the only thing they can still enjoy. Nobody ever heard of a modern philanthropist giving up petrol or typewriting or troops of servants. No, no! What he gives up must be some simple and universal thing. He will give up beef or beer or sleep–because these pleasures remind him that he is only a man.”

At this point, I am risking offending some of my family and friends. So, therefore, I will acknowledge that many have legitimate dietary issues, and note that I generally attempt to work around them.

Chesterton’s point here, however, is spot-on. It is my observation that many, perhaps most, of the current dietary trends are expensive. Furthermore, they tend to preclude eating with ordinary, “lesser” people. For example the “Atkins” diet is high in expensive meats and proteins, and low in inexpensive carbohydrates. You know, the things that have sustained those unable to afford regular meat, for centuries. Likewise, the “only organic, free range, etcetera” has the effect of limiting those one eats with. In my opinion, this is at heart a feature, not a bug. Finally, the most modern obsession, the gluten free lifestyle combines the expense of the Atkins approach with the “we can’t trust anyone else’s food” of the organic only diet. The net result is to cut off the sharing of food - our oldest and most significant source of fellowship with our fellow humans.

But Chesterton doesn’t stop here in his lampooning of health fads. Certainly not! Later, our heroes encounter a utopian community founded on the belief that drinking only “mountain milk” will extend life to extreme old age. This group was founded by a snake oil salesman - who perhaps originally believed his own pitch.

“Then, unfortunately, he came across the institution called Death, and began to argue with it. Not seeing any rational explanation of this custom of dying, so prevalent among his fellow-citizens, he concluded that it was merely traditional (which he thought meant "effete"), and began to think of nothing but ways of evading or delaying it. This had a rather narrowing effect on him, and he lost much of that acrid ardour which had humanised the atheism of his youth, when he would almost have committed suicide for the pleasure of taunting God with not being there. His later idealism grew more and more into materialism and consisted of his changing hypotheses and discoveries about the healthiest foods...It was during his prolonged stay in England that he chanced on the instance of the longevity of milk consumers, and built on it a theory which was, at the beginning at least, sincere. Unfortunately it was also successful: wealth flowed in to the inventor and proprietor of Mountain Milk, and he began to feel a fourth and last enthusiasm, which, also, can come late in life and have a narrowing effect on the mind.”

This, of course, had a result which is all too predictable for those of us who have seen (and tasted) far too many snake oil dietary plans. (See note below.)

“He attracted many pupils and backers among the wealthy and influential; young men who were, so to speak, training for extreme old age, infant old men, embryo nonagenarians. It would be an exaggeration to say that they watched joyfully for the first white hair as Fascination Fledgeby watched for his first whisker; but it is quite true to say that they seemed to have scorned the beauty of woman and the feasting of friends and, above all, the old idea of death with glory; in comparison with this vision of the sports of second childhood.”

Dalroy, after dispensing some of the rum, reveals the doctor as one interested in money, diluting the milk with water to make a greater profit.

“Why should I respect you because you are fastidious about food, that your poor old digestion may outlive the hearts of better men? Why should you be the god of this valley, whose god is your belly, merely because you do not even love your god, but only fear him? Go home to your prayers, old man; for all men shall die.”

This is harsh to be sure. I think it needs to be said in our own age, 100 years later. We fear death, and we wish to elevate ourselves above the “common people.” So we cling to whatever makes us feel better. Our gods are our bellies and our vanity. We wish to ignore that we all shall die. 

I will note as well that, just as in our actual experience with prohibition, Chesterton correctly envisions the exceptions by which the wealthy and privileged are able to obtain alcohol without violating the law. In the actual event, a certain, rather strong (and expensive) Scotch Whisky, Laphroaig, remained legal as a “medicine.” With access to the right doctor, one could obtain a prescription. Chesterton laid the entire scenario out in the book, and correctly observes the rank hypocrisy of the privileged classes.

Again, Chesterton ties all of this together through his use of Ivywood as the instigator and embodiment of the overarching philosophy. Eventually, Ivywood seems to be advocating a return to polygamy and child marriage, claiming that Ammon is correct that women are most free under the laws of Islam.

In the most revealing statement, near the end of the book, Ivywood posits that there is something higher than love, at least the love of the lover or the love of love itself. However, in contrast to the Christian view of the nature of ultimate love being that of the Divine, Ivywood considers the ultimate to be the love of fate. This is the ideal of Nietzche: a delight in destiny is the mark of the hero. This doesn’t exactly work as he tries to woo his woman, but it certainly rings true as the undergirding of much of the evil of the twentieth century, and perhaps of the history of the world.

“I am not ashamed of my laurels, I see no meaning in what these Christians call humility. I will be the greatest man in the world if I can; and I think I can. Therefore, something that is higher than love itself, Fate and what is fitting, make it right that I should wed the most beautiful woman in the world. And she stands among the peacocks and is more beautiful and more proud than they."

And ultimately, this speaks to the urge to “remake the world,” as Ivywood puts it. It is the arrogance that one is above, that one is the “ubermensch,” that one can evade the common fate of man.

Whether you agree with it or not, Chesterton makes a compelling argument that all of these are related. The wish to deny the pleasure of alcohol to the masses, the use of diet to sever the link with “lesser” humanity, and the urge to remake the world. It is the same spirit that says, “I thank God I am not like other men.”

This book is both fun and compelling. It certainly feels predictive of our own time and issues, while remaining firmly rooted in Chesterton’s ideal of the soul of the English people. Agree, disagree, or otherwise, it is a good starting point for further discussion of the nature of the instinct toward prohibition and its common root in snobbery and arrogance.

Note on the musical connections:
Poulenc Gloria (Listen for the chord at 0:43)

 

I always enjoyed the conducting of Mr. M prior to his retirement. Two of my favorite “romps” are the following.

The Finale from Haydn’s final symphony, #104 is a perfect example of fun that is almost, but not quite, out of control. This is probably my favorite Haydn symphony, although it is impossible to decide. This movement is, without a doubt, one of my favorite symphonic moments of all time. 




Bartok’s Divertimento for Strings is one of my favorite chamber works, containing much of the pain of the destruction of Hungary, first by the Nazis and then by the Soviets. Bartok finds release in the final movement. While the pain is still there, there is an ecstasy of joy and love that comes through in this thrilling performance. 



Note on dietary nonsense: I was a sickly child, and my mother tried all kinds of stuff to improve my health. Some of this was beneficial: I still love vegetables, and learned to cook good food from scratch. I also drink water, rarely sugared drinks, and so forth. Other stuff was benign, but a bit unpalatable, such as experiments with carrot and other juices. Some was downright dangerous, such as kombucha tea, which has been linked to neurological damage. 

Again, I acknowledge the good in attempting to have a healthy diet and lifestyle - I certainly make that attempt myself. However, I see an unhealthy distrust of anything mainstream in these movements, a tendency to ascribe everything to a "drug company conspiracy," and the promise that the fad of the day will cure everything. 

The point here is that one tends to ignore facts in the search for health and/or immortality. A quick perusal of the literature in support of these fads quickly reveals a casual disregard for basic facts of chemistry and biology, but it is impossible to argue with the true believer.