Saturday, January 31, 2004
the relationship between pop culture and literature fascinates me. historically, from Cervantes and Kafka to Melville and Samuel R. Delany, writers, particularly non-American, have been inclined to disregard pop references. but, in our contemporary Coca-Colonized communities (American or otherwise), is it possible to ignore references to musicians, companies, films, events, that so strongly characterize our life in this century (for better or worse)? i say this as a writer. as someone who realizes that striving for a description of the textures of human life are imperative, yet difficult to realize on an abstract level.
a group of Latin-American writers, hot for revolution, are calling themselves (under the reworked moniker of Garcia Marquez's MacOndo) McOndo, signifying that Latin-America today is not a magically realistic landscape full of flying animals, but rather populated by Macintosh computers, McDonalds and condominiums. despite being a somewhat wobbly basis for starting a literary movement, i think these kids are on to something (hardly kids, though, most of these cats are well into their 30's). they are merely representing. yet, handfuls of Latin-American critics have castigated them for rooting their reactionary movement on shallowness and 'American cultural imperialist traditions' (such as video games, Hollywood, etc). freshjive, indeed.
the Russian critic, M.M. Bakhtin talked about the novel not having a history due to its aesthetic form as being something that describes its contemporary reality in a new way each time. so, thus, my question is, how are we, writers and artists in general, to capture our everyday reality purely devoid of popculture references in the twenty-first century?
this is what interests and plagues me of this new crop of pop-laden mainstream/underground novelists.
bret easton ellis.
dave eggers.
victor d. lavalle.
junot diaz.
chris abani.
nalo hopkinson.
jonathan lethem.
(to name a few).
Invisible Man did it.
The Fortress of Solitude did it.
and so it goes...
a group of Latin-American writers, hot for revolution, are calling themselves (under the reworked moniker of Garcia Marquez's MacOndo) McOndo, signifying that Latin-America today is not a magically realistic landscape full of flying animals, but rather populated by Macintosh computers, McDonalds and condominiums. despite being a somewhat wobbly basis for starting a literary movement, i think these kids are on to something (hardly kids, though, most of these cats are well into their 30's). they are merely representing. yet, handfuls of Latin-American critics have castigated them for rooting their reactionary movement on shallowness and 'American cultural imperialist traditions' (such as video games, Hollywood, etc). freshjive, indeed.
the Russian critic, M.M. Bakhtin talked about the novel not having a history due to its aesthetic form as being something that describes its contemporary reality in a new way each time. so, thus, my question is, how are we, writers and artists in general, to capture our everyday reality purely devoid of popculture references in the twenty-first century?
this is what interests and plagues me of this new crop of pop-laden mainstream/underground novelists.
bret easton ellis.
dave eggers.
victor d. lavalle.
junot diaz.
chris abani.
nalo hopkinson.
jonathan lethem.
(to name a few).
Invisible Man did it.
The Fortress of Solitude did it.
and so it goes...
Thursday, January 29, 2004
good music can still be made with guitars, they say.
no, i say.
yes, they say.
listen to the new blonde redhead record, misery is a butterfly, they say.
joy has never felt this good, i say.
no, i say.
yes, they say.
listen to the new blonde redhead record, misery is a butterfly, they say.
joy has never felt this good, i say.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
watching a lightning bolt documentary, chock-full of this country's scruffyheaded hipsters and students makes me think the construction of 'american identity' is indeed malleable. noisy snaretaps and toneless basswork are the new signifiers of a collection of young people who are down for some weird shit.
word to vegan astronaut rap.
its like an 80's synth party: reading war and peace, with its meticulous narrativity set in the snooty society of 19th century Russia, struck me with a line by Pierre about the Napoleonic Wars:
"If everyone would only fight for his own convictions, there'd be no war"
beats not bombs.
word to vegan astronaut rap.
its like an 80's synth party: reading war and peace, with its meticulous narrativity set in the snooty society of 19th century Russia, struck me with a line by Pierre about the Napoleonic Wars:
"If everyone would only fight for his own convictions, there'd be no war"
beats not bombs.
Monday, January 26, 2004
what is the definition of whiteness?
i was thinking this over as i was writing a review of the new clouddead record for signal to noise. reading over articles some folks have written about them, racializing them as simply three 'white' dudes. i also went back and listened to the only Ras Kass track that ever got me open, 'the nature of the threat' where he gets in the weeds just trying to chart the history of race. so, i gots to thinking: if blackness/latin-americanness is a complicated assemblage of history, culture and hot love, then what about whiteness? can it be that it was all so simple.
and what about spacetravel?
(i wonder what people in Amsterdam are thinking.)
i was thinking this over as i was writing a review of the new clouddead record for signal to noise. reading over articles some folks have written about them, racializing them as simply three 'white' dudes. i also went back and listened to the only Ras Kass track that ever got me open, 'the nature of the threat' where he gets in the weeds just trying to chart the history of race. so, i gots to thinking: if blackness/latin-americanness is a complicated assemblage of history, culture and hot love, then what about whiteness? can it be that it was all so simple.
and what about spacetravel?
(i wonder what people in Amsterdam are thinking.)
Thursday, January 22, 2004
is it just me, or does David Banner's album cover make him look like someone off of 28 Days Later. strange stuff, indeed. nonetheless, below is a short essay i wrote recently for class. i had to keep it mad short, despite my desire to write a dissertation-length piece. enjoy.
Boogie Down Productions: Art and Representation in The New Negro and Beyond
By martin de leon II
Alain Locke’s philosophy of African-American life, and in particular the Harlem Renaissance in the early twentieth-century, is an acute exploration of the complicated relationship between art, politics and race. According to Locke, the lack of representation, both political and social, of African-American life beyond the Civil War and Reconstruction, was due to the perception of black folk as beneficiaries of American civilization, as opposed to dynamic participants through artistic production. As evidenced by his idea that the greatest cultural amelioration rested in “the evaluation…of the Negro in terms of his artistic endowments and cultural contributions”, Locke emphasized the imperative nature of art itself as a political instrument and humanized expressive conduit for exploring relations between both the black and white people of America. Essentially, art’s potentiality as a discursive tool for both social and political reconfiguration of American civilization, where the inclusion of African-American cultural production would be recognized as vital, is Locke’s elemental recognition of art’s significance.
The aforementioned relationship between art, politics and race as explored by Locke is philosophically rooted in W.E.B. Du Bois’ idea of the elemental problem of the twentieth-century: the color line. Exemplifying the contemporary relationship between the color line and art, hip-hop culture, despite its fragmentary nature, is still a dynamic representation of an art that was once black art but now has been internationalized, humanizing global youth. The inception of hip-hop culture in 1979 by Jamaican DJ Kool Herc, to its global and commercial presence (France being the second largest hip-hop market) signifies a particular internationalist example of art overwhelming the concept and reality of the color line through discursive and once-politically inspired American rap. Furthermore, as the cultural studies scholar Paul Gilroy notes in his book Against Race: Imagining Political Culture Beyond the Color Line, young social circles associated with counter-cultural spaces (such as hip-hop, electronic music subcultures, etc.) are where racial hybridity is most pervasively practiced. Moreover, art as a multiple space has certainly done its job as exemplified by hip-hop culture as well numerous socially conscious creators in the twentieth century (from Basquiat and Picasso to Saul Williams and Sun Ra).
In addition to the color line, the problem of the twenty-first century (one of many) will be the digital divide. Technology is reconfiguring art (musical, visual, literary) at a rapid rate and it is imperative for everyone who is capable, particularly economically unstable youth, to access such instrumentation. For example, two prominent black British musicians Roni Size and Dizzee Rascal learned to produce various forms of urban electronic music in community technology centers where the software and instruments were available. The aforementioned is necessary to progress and experiment artistically in order, as Locke notes, to explore poignant social and political issues of both African-American life and human life as a whole.
Ultimately, as both Locke and Du Bois explicate, the recognition of cultural complexity and exploration of social injustice through art is elemental to humanizing African-Americans and to contributing to a fresh, progressive, American democracy.
Boogie Down Productions: Art and Representation in The New Negro and Beyond
By martin de leon II
Alain Locke’s philosophy of African-American life, and in particular the Harlem Renaissance in the early twentieth-century, is an acute exploration of the complicated relationship between art, politics and race. According to Locke, the lack of representation, both political and social, of African-American life beyond the Civil War and Reconstruction, was due to the perception of black folk as beneficiaries of American civilization, as opposed to dynamic participants through artistic production. As evidenced by his idea that the greatest cultural amelioration rested in “the evaluation…of the Negro in terms of his artistic endowments and cultural contributions”, Locke emphasized the imperative nature of art itself as a political instrument and humanized expressive conduit for exploring relations between both the black and white people of America. Essentially, art’s potentiality as a discursive tool for both social and political reconfiguration of American civilization, where the inclusion of African-American cultural production would be recognized as vital, is Locke’s elemental recognition of art’s significance.
The aforementioned relationship between art, politics and race as explored by Locke is philosophically rooted in W.E.B. Du Bois’ idea of the elemental problem of the twentieth-century: the color line. Exemplifying the contemporary relationship between the color line and art, hip-hop culture, despite its fragmentary nature, is still a dynamic representation of an art that was once black art but now has been internationalized, humanizing global youth. The inception of hip-hop culture in 1979 by Jamaican DJ Kool Herc, to its global and commercial presence (France being the second largest hip-hop market) signifies a particular internationalist example of art overwhelming the concept and reality of the color line through discursive and once-politically inspired American rap. Furthermore, as the cultural studies scholar Paul Gilroy notes in his book Against Race: Imagining Political Culture Beyond the Color Line, young social circles associated with counter-cultural spaces (such as hip-hop, electronic music subcultures, etc.) are where racial hybridity is most pervasively practiced. Moreover, art as a multiple space has certainly done its job as exemplified by hip-hop culture as well numerous socially conscious creators in the twentieth century (from Basquiat and Picasso to Saul Williams and Sun Ra).
In addition to the color line, the problem of the twenty-first century (one of many) will be the digital divide. Technology is reconfiguring art (musical, visual, literary) at a rapid rate and it is imperative for everyone who is capable, particularly economically unstable youth, to access such instrumentation. For example, two prominent black British musicians Roni Size and Dizzee Rascal learned to produce various forms of urban electronic music in community technology centers where the software and instruments were available. The aforementioned is necessary to progress and experiment artistically in order, as Locke notes, to explore poignant social and political issues of both African-American life and human life as a whole.
Ultimately, as both Locke and Du Bois explicate, the recognition of cultural complexity and exploration of social injustice through art is elemental to humanizing African-Americans and to contributing to a fresh, progressive, American democracy.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
good evening, everyone.
(WELCOME TO THE END OF WRITING AS WE ALL KNOW IT.)
the internet's democratic ideals make me giddy.
i, mexican new wave rap critic (like whoa!), am low on the totem pole of musicscribblers and all that jazz, but am proud to be making some noise in the independent hiphop world. more like whispers, really.
que viva la evolucion!
(WELCOME TO THE END OF WRITING AS WE ALL KNOW IT.)
the internet's democratic ideals make me giddy.
i, mexican new wave rap critic (like whoa!), am low on the totem pole of musicscribblers and all that jazz, but am proud to be making some noise in the independent hiphop world. more like whispers, really.
que viva la evolucion!
