Brief reviews 🔗
The Penelopiad was a nice chaser after reading the Odyssey—it’s a creative retelling from the perspective of Penelope. Pointing out the misogyny in Homer is shooting fish in a barrel, but Atwood’s writing is engaging and she adds in lots of interesting elements, like a digression about how “possibly [the maids’] rape and subsequent hanging represent the overthrow of a matrilineal moon-cult by an incoming group of usurping patriarchal father-god-worshipping barbarians” (p. 165), or having the ghosts of the murdered maids torment Odysseus across millennia of reincarnations.
We3 is a short graphic novel about animals bonded to mech suits to be used as weapons. It’s more grimdark than I was expecting, leaning more into the what abominations hath man wrought angle than the aww cute animals angle. It’s OK but I didn’t love it.
Widow’s Bay (season 1) is a really delightful comedy/horror show about an island with a sordid past whose mayor wants to make it a tourist destination. Favorite joke: when the tour guide at the historical society describes a past “witch trial” to a visitor. “Great source of pride. We caught ’em. We burned ’em…”
Recursion is a time-travel novel with an interesting ruleset: you can change the past, but when the new timeline reaches the date/time at which you departed in the old timeline, everyone suddenly gets back their memories from all previous timelines. Despite the characters making infuriatingly silly decisions for the sake of creating extra drama, and the plot dragging on longer than necessary toward the end, it’s a fun story. I was struck by one beautiful idea a character suggests at one point: that when you die, you return to the best instant of your life and inhabit it eternally.
Words of Radiance is 48 hours long and it’s only the second book in a series of five, each of which appears to be longer than the one before. I’d never have been able to make it through this kind of thing before the era of easily-accessible audiobooks. But as usual for Sanderson, it’s a fun, low-stress, satisfying read.
The Language of Liars is a novella with a wonderfully bizarre premise: the most skilled linguists of a certain alien species are occasionally able to somehow “jump” into the minds of distant beings, taking over their bodies to research their mysterious culture from within. The twist that all extant members of that culture are actually just spies of this sort is retrospectively obvious but still managed to catch me off guard. Loved it.
Pops by Michael Chabon opens with an anecdote about a writer he admired telling him that having children would be terrible for his writing career. The fact that Chabon went on to write The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay is sufficient refutation of that advice, but unsurprisingly he thinks his four children were worth whatever literary sacrifices may have been made for them anyway. In this lovely little 2-hour audiobook he reflects on a handful of experiences with his children (and his father), like a trip to Paris with his fashion-obsessed son, or navigating Huckleberry Finn’s use of the n-word when his kids beg him to read it as a bedtime story. A vivid quote in the context of him accidentally failing to validate his young daughter’s appearance at a crucial moment:
Horror is the only fit response when you are confronted by the full extent of your power to break another human being. (track 6, 10:05)
A Plagued Sea by Kim Bo-young is a satisfying spin on Lovecraft’s classic Shadow over Innsmouth. Fittingly for a more contemporary telling, the humans and their prejudice against anything different are the real evil here, not the fish people who just tryna live their fishy lives.
If there was a God, it would be proper for the residents of this village to hold a protest, not pray. (p. 36)
Animal Farm is a book I’ve been hearing referenced since probably grade school but never bothered reading until now. If you’re in the same boat, it’s worth a read—it’s very short and Orwell’s writing is entertaining. The edition I read has an interesting introduction by Téa Obreht:
I was raised in the former Yugoslavia in the mid-1980s, in a household and culture gripped by the distinction between “indoor” and “outdoor” talk. … You think I’m talking about politics here, reader, but I’m not. Politics was so out of bounds that I can’t remember any adult ever declaring support for any candidate in my presence until we moved to America. I’m talking about simple details of daily existence: a new pencil case that might be misconstrued as a sign of increased wealth, or a sandwich that might give a nosy stranger on a train some false idea about the demographic composition of our family because one of its ingredients may or may not be a certain kind of ham. People incapable of recognizing the distinction between indoor and outdoor talk… were to be regarded with disdain and suspicion. For if they didn’t value the sanctity of their own indoor talk, imagine the damage they could inflict if they somehow got ahold of yours! (Obreht, p. viii-ix)
Operation Bounce House is not as uproariously fun and addictive as Dinniman’s main hit series, but… it’s still pretty fun!
Chain-Gang All-Stars is obviously a plea for more humane treatment of criminals, which is a worthy message. But it also seems to want readers to feel the same awe and admiration for its protagonists—convicts competing in a sadistic series of deathmatches for public entertainment, chillingly euphemized as “hard action sports”—that the in-universe viewers do. Their supposed awesomeness is established more by telling than showing, and the telling frequently involves a sort of sexualized reverence for violence, which I find disturbing. If this weren’t a book club choice I’d have DNF’ed it. It does pull off a pretty epic resolution to the final conflict though: when the lovers Staxxx and Thurwar are forced to fight, Staxxx proves she could have won, says “Gotcha”, then sacrifices herself so that her lover can live.
The Crying of Lot 49 is the first Thomas Pynchon novel I’ve read, and I read it because I figured I should probably read something by Pynchon at some point and I saw this at the bookstore and it looked thin enough to be a short time commitment. The plot is a pointless rambling absurdity which seems mostly to be a vehicle for Pynchon’s wordplay, but his clever phrases and striking metaphors are enough to justify reading it.
She couldn’t stop watching his eyes. They were bright black, surrounded by an incredible network of lines, like a laboratory maze for studying intelligence in tears. (p. 60)
The pin I’m wearing means I’m a member of the IA. That’s Inamorati Anonymous. An inamorato is somebody in love. That’s the worst addiction of all. (p. 91)
You know what a miracle is. … another world’s intrusion into this one. (p. 97)
NYC trip highlights 🔗
- Favorite museum exhibit: the incredible panorama of the city at Queens Museum.
- Favorite meal: at Aliada in Astoria. Due to me being a vegetarian and—separately—a picky eater, I just ordered some sides and starters: halloumi cheese, lemon roasted potatoes, falafel. It was all fantastic.
- Favorite cocktail: Shanghai Tea at Chi, made with “coconut rum, shochu, lime, pandan, ginger”. They pour it from a teapot over ice.
- Favorite dessert: a white chocolate and cookie crumble seasonal gelato flavor from Figo.
- Favorite building in the skyline: One Vanderbilt, glowing blue through the clouds the night we went up Top of the Rock.
- Favorite coffee shop: the Center for Fiction cafe. Admittedly it’s also the only one I went to, but, the Center for Fiction just seems super cool. As someone who spends money at coffee shops mainly just to have somewhere to read/work, I find it very appealing that this place lets you buy membership for access to a “tech-free Reading Room, tech-friendly Lounge, and outdoor Terrace”. I want more third spaces like that!
- Favorite souvenir: a green baseball cap with a picture of a pigeon.
- Favorite spontaneous choice: seeing a free Andrew Bird show in Central Park that we found out about right around the time it started.
The infectiousness of normative trust 🔗
I’m trying to expand my exposure to different views on meta-ethics now that I’ve finally gotten through Parfit’s tomes on the subject (which mostly played to my existing bias toward moral realism). Allan Gibbard’s 1990 book Wise Choices, Apt Feelings presents an expressivist theory he calls norm-expressivism which holds that:
To call something rational is to express one’s acceptance of norms that permit it. (p. 7)
What Gibbard means by “rational”
Gibbard’s using “rational” to refer to the most general kind of normative judgment:
The word ‘rational’ has a learned flavor, but the notion I have in mind is familiar. It is the one we use when we talk about ‘what it makes sense’ to do or to believe, or when we speak of ‘the wise choice’ in a situation. It is the one we use when we ask what we ‘ought’ to do, or search for the ‘best thing to do’, in a way that does not already presuppose we are talking morality. With feelings, it is the notion we use when we talk of anger, say, as warranted, or of pity as apt or misdirected. (pp. 6-7)
I feel like, if I thought this sort of self-expression were all there is to ethics (I don’t), I would stop caring about ethics. Why make any sacrifices to live up to my values if there’s no ultimate justification for having those values? Why consider arguments for changing my values if there’s no objective sense in which the new values could be better than the old? Gibbard has an interesting argument in chapter 9 that goes something like this:
To avoid “hyperskepticism” we have to trust (to some degree) the judgments we’ve made in the past or would make in the future or “in hypothetical circumstances”.
Take multi-step reasoning: … One must normally trust past conclusions without reviewing all one’s grounds. In effect, then, one accords authority to one’s past self. The same goes for the conclusions one would accept in hypothetical circumstances. I may take it as a reason for accepting a judgment that I would accept it if I had known certain relevant facts and thought about them in certain ways. … Indeed even setting out to ponder or investigate an issue requires reliance on one’s own authority. Why should I bother to think about an issue when I do not yet have a firm opinion? …normally … it is because I place some value on accepting the conclusions I may reach… I accord probable validity to the conclusion I would accept if I investigated. (p. 178)
Trusting oneself implies some trust for others, since others played a significant role in making us who we are now.
The influence of others has pervaded our thinking since before we could talk. (p. 179)
- I must accord legitimacy to past influences from others. My present normative views stem pervasively from their influence. The norms I accept must not tell me, on that account, to throw out all my present judgments—for if they do, I am left a bleak skeptic. To some past influences, then, I must accord legitimacy.
- That means that I must accord legitimacy as well to future influences—not to all of them, but to ones that meet certain standards. I have no plausible story of why past influences were all right but future ones will not be. There is nothing special about now as now.
- In a discriminate way, then, I must accord others some fundamental authority. (p. 180)
I don’t think there’s anything in this argument that’s particular to expressivist meta-ethics; a moral realist could use it too. It doesn’t explain what makes normative judgments trustworthy; it just tries to show that denying they can be trusted at all leads to greater absurdity than you might initially think.
Notably, Gibbard thinks that even questions of instrumental rationality involve normative judgments—not just questions of “ultimate goals” (see pp. 12-18). If he’s right about that, then the argument above doesn’t just say that you need to take others’ normative judgments seriously if you want to take seriously your own goals and moral beliefs. It says you need to take others’ normative judgments seriously if you even want to take seriously your beliefs about how best to pursue a given goal in a given set of circumstances.
I doubt this argument precludes you from concluding that some entire categories of normative judgment can be dismissed. If your friend thinks abstract art is terrible but you think abstract art is awesome, you might decide all aesthetic judgments are just equally-valid personal preferences. You don’t have to adopt an unlivable hyperskepticism to believe this. Couldn’t you also dismiss all moral judgments as mere preferences while still recognizing, say, the pursuit of one’s own self-interest as a worthy goal?
It may be hard to justify drawing that line, though. Aren’t our desires for survival, sex, power, etc the product of the same evolutionary forces that shaped our moral beliefs? Don’t all those drives exist because they help propagate genes? If the belief that one should look out for oneself and the belief that one should look out for one’s neighbor both trace back to similar origins, why treat one as legitimate and not the other?
Or, if the moral beliefs are just a byproduct of reasoning faculties which natural selection favored for their other benefits, then as Lazari-Radek and Singer point out in an argument I discussed a couple months ago, our altruistic beliefs might be more credible than our more clearly-evolutionarily-beneficial ones.
I like Gibbard’s argument as far as it goes, but I’m not satisfied with how he justifies trusting (to some degree) one’s own normative judgments. He thinks it’s impossible not to have such trust, and also that eliminating it would leave us in an unappealing state of hyperskepticism (see pp. 178-179). That’s true, but maybe hyperskepticism would be the clear-eyed view, and our inability to fully embrace it just reflects a fundamental absurdity in the human psyche. (If you suspect that’s the case, I imagine this suspicion will impact your behavior: even though you’ll never be able to stop trusting some of your normative judgments, you’ll likely trust fewer of them and trust them less, and put less effort into living in accord with them.) I still don’t see how an expressivist can avoid that conclusion. A moral realist, on the other hand, can say some of our judgments aren’t just inevitable or practically necessary, but actually right. And when I think about a judgment such as experiencing intense suffering is bad, it seems to me that trusting it involves trusting my ability to accurately perceive a certain truth about such experiences. If I stopped believing there could be such truth, I might still be biologically/psychologically destined to try to avoid suffering, but this would no longer be because I was making a judgment that I trusted; it would just be a fact about me, like how I have a tendency to tap my foot or fidget. (Or more likely, cognitive dissonance would be involved: I’d be unable to stop implicitly believing in objective normative truths even while simultaneously believing them impossible.)
An uninspiring utopia 🔗
Woman on the Edge of Time is a novel written and set in the 70s about a woman who is unjustly committed to a mental hospital and psychically time travels (or believes she does) to a future utopia in Mattapoisett. The (then-)present-day sections of the book are depressing: almost everyone in the protagonist Connie’s life is cruel to her, and the people who aren’t are either dead or are fellow powerless inmates. The utopian sections feel like a mashup of all the things that would appeal to a hippie / New Age-minded person, e.g.:
- nobody has last names, everyone chooses their own name, and people change their names periodically
- polyamory is the norm
- population is controlled; one death ➡️ one birth
- there’s no money, but there’s a credit system to apportion luxuries
- people see themselves as part of an Indigenous tribe despite not being descended from it
- dreams are taken seriously as a (minor) source of input to civic life
- people live in small communities since “big cities … didn’t work” (p. 70)
- humans communicate with animals
- the naturalness of death is emphasized, such that the utopians act puzzled by the idea that someone might want science to extend lifespan
I want to draw attention to two questionable utopian tendencies I sense in this book (and elsewhere). First: idealizing both a relatively extreme individualism and a radical communism and presenting them as natural bedfellows. The people of Mattapoisett seem to care a lot about self-exploration and celebrating the things that make each of them unique, but they also treat e.g. costumes and bicycles as communal property. Can we really expect humans to focus so much on their own personal identity without developing attachment to particular objects that are important to that identity? (Aren’t cyclists gonna want to customize their bikes?)
Second: glorifying the idea of tradition and ritual while fantasizing about a radical revolution that would destroy most actual tradition. The Mattapoisett people in the novel see themselves as Wamponaugs [sic] so perhaps they preserve some traditions from that culture, but a lot of the structure of their society and their sacred rituals seem built from whole cloth to fit the author’s sensibilities. (And where are, say, the Catholics or the Muslims in this world—have their traditions just been swept away?)
One idea I did like is this check the utopian culture puts on the tendency of leadership roles to become rungs on a social ladder:
…after a year on the economic council and ninemonth chairing it, Gray Fox may come to identify with that job. A job that affects the lives of many people. May come to feel that it’s part of the essence of Gray Fox to make big decisions while others look up to per. May come to feel that being Gray Fox involves being such a decider, such a big visible doer. So right now Gray Fox is on sixmonth sheepherding duty. After we’ve served in a way that seems important, we serve in a job usually done by young people waiting to begin an apprenticeship or crossers atoning a crime. (p. 274)