Reading Journal 2024: Winesburg, Ohio Author: Sherwood Anderson
Winesburg, Ohio could be described as; chronically melancholic, cynical, depressing. Those descriptives might be true, or at least partly true, but I think it would be a mistake to suggest that this is all the book is. As a collection of short stories that are bound together by the arc of a singular, reoccurring character (George Willard, a young journalist who works and writes for the local newspaper), Winesburg is a deeply immersive and honest portrait of the life of different people living in a small, unassuming, isolated, mundane, non-descript town.
The book is marked on the front end by a chapter titled Book of the Grotesque’, and ends with what I might suggest is one of the best final lines of a book I have ever encountered, if for the pure simplicity of its presence, bringing Willard’s particular part of the storyline to a fitting and poetic conclusion.
Speaking of the prose, while the nature of a short story collection is that some will inevitably be stronger and more interesting than others, which is true in this case, rarely did a page go by where I wasn’t highlighting memorable and quotable phrases, lines and sentences. It is described in the introduction as a “fetish for simplicity”, but that simplicity is profound, “seeking always to penetrate to thoughts uttermost end.”
Which makes his first chapter that much more fitting when he surmises, “in the beginning when the world was young there were a great many thoughts but no such thing as a truth. Man made the truths himself and each truth was a composite of a great many vague thoughts. All about in the world were the truths and they were all beautiful.”
Beautiful even where it finds things like depression, loneliness, boredom, death, addiction, and unrealized longings. This is a book that doesn’t feel the need to mask over the truth of these realities, instead embracing them as part of what binds us together.
I’ve been accused of being melancholic, depressed, cynical myself, so I’m not surprised I found myself connecting with this, and even more so appreciating it. As one character proclaims in the chapter called Mother, “it seemed like a rehearsal of her own life, terrible in its vividness.” Or as it described of Willard, “He is groping about trying to find himself. He is not a dull clod, all words and smartness. Within him there is a secret something that is striving to grow.”
Don’t be surprised if this becomes your own response as well should you give this book a try. I couldn’t have put it better than what I found in this sentiment: “I don’t know what I shall do. I just want to go away and look at people and think.”
I’ll leave it with this exceprt from the forward, “It is essentially a literature of revolt against the great illusion of American civilization, the illusion of optimism, with all its childish evasion of harsh facts, its puerile cheerfulness, whose inevitable culmination is the school of “glad” books, which have reduced American literature to the lowest terms of sentimentality.”
Film Journal 2024: Inside Out 2 Directed by Kelsey Mann
I’m glad I did a recent rewatch of the first film, and that I watched both films in essential succession this morning. I hadn’t actually revisited the first film since seeing it once in theaters back when it released, so I knew that a rewatch might bring some interesting and maybe suprising results. More importantly, it gave me a better gauge for which to make sense of my experience with both films as a seperate but also singular story.
Just to clear the air right up front, if you are stuck on begrudging this as a sequel, seeing it as emblematic of the larger problem plaguing both studios and theaters as they continue to doible down on familiar IP, that will likely define your experience of Inside Out 2. The simple fact that it is operating without the novelty of experiencing its inner world brought to life for the first time I think could feel like justification for resisting its existence.
In truth, I do think this fact forms what might be my biggest critique of the film, which is, by nature of contextualizing both stories into a narrow framework based on age and formation the sequel naturally condenses the reach of its message, both in its present context (puberty) and retrospectively (childhood). Of the two films the sequel suffers more, as I think the original has an already established legacy that applies its message and themes more universally as a concept. Similarly, the first film has the advantage of doing the leg work, which means it does the heavy lifting of parsing out the complexities of its vision and concept in ways the sequel doesn’t need to, leaving a fair portion of the sequel feeling a bit episodic in nature and even a little too on the nose.
It should also be noted though that the first film anticipates the sequel. It sets the stage for it, so to speak, and upon rewatch I think really does operate in faith of its eventual existence. This should help dispel some of those feelings about it being either unnecessary or simply a cash grab. And true to form, if much of the film feels episodic, the recognizable and familiar Pixar “magic” shows up for the final act.
Thematically speaking the film continues where it left off, bringing in the new emotions that come along with puberty and, as the film posits it, the subsequent formation of the self. What’s interesting about the way the film navigates this is, the whole puberty aspect does tend to get left in the shadows the further the film gets into exploring its conception of the self. This is at least in part because the story is so contained and narrowed to its particular situation. I feel like it wanted the simplicity of its scenario driven plot (young girl going through puberty has a chance to discover her dream to be a hockey player at a time of personal transition) to afford it the freedom to then dig deeper into the bigger ideas it is exploring about the self, but there is a bit of a push and pull within the story between these two parallel lines that does end up feeling disjointed. To be fair, the plot of the first film is also far simpler than I remembered, but it had the freedom to commit more wholly and completely to the conceptualized inner workings of the emotional world precisely because it didn’t need to worry as much about the functional self. The natural progression of the sequel is towards bringing in that added dynamic of identity.
I remember when the first film came out that there was a plethora of think pieces dissecting the science of its premise, some supporting it and some criticizing it for pushing the science too far into the realm of ideology and transcendence. I also heard critiques about how it depicted emotions as seperate entities functioning in isolation. The sequel sort of addresses this in a round about way. It assumes the same fundamental end- happiness, or as some define it, happiness as the grounds of human flourishing, but it adds in a new emotion (anxiety) which has the power to bind all the others together. If happiness is the end, anxiety is the means that ensures it is attained. In the first film the story is about embracing sadness as a key to joy rather than its antithesis. In the sequel it is about embracing the whole as the true expression of the self.
Here is where things get really interesting however. The film roots the self in the notion of core beliefs. In theory, it is bringing together beliefs about the world and beliefs about the self, rooting in the natural outworking of puberty as the point in which we begin to build and formulate our identities in the face of these two interrelated realities. Not against our formative years, but in light of it. Beliefs here are seen to represent agency, toying with the question of whether our biology makes us who we are or if we (an operative self) determine our biological function. There is plenty there to parse out as far as reading between the lines in one direction or another, but suffice to say what it is teasing out along the way is the concept of a functional will.
I feel like the contained nature of the film does get tripped up here a bit, because it fails to leave room for wrestling with how past and future connect to the present. It seems to give in to the danger of allowing a point in time when the self generally sees itself as both conceptually autonomous and as the center of the world (puberty) to define the reality of the self in a more empirical and universal way. Its not difficult to look at the way the film conceptualizes beliefs and see that these beliefs are essentially constructs based on perceptual and conceptualized realities. This leaves the self as entity on shaky ground. And not only that, but these are constructs that are determined by external forces.
This left me thinking; why and how should we trust these core beliefs, especially when they appear to be operating in the form of concrete perceptions (I am a good person, for example). The film tries to weave into this a sentiment that sees us as the sum of both our good and bad parts, successes and failures, but this only works on a philopshical level if we make the necessary assumptions about the self that can and will allow us to function freely in the realm of perceptions.
That’s where the conception finds some challenges, most notably when it comes to bringing in a future perspective. If anxiety is about control of the future (or self control), then the future is about contending with life’s impact on our conception of the self. This seemed to me to be a missing piece of the puzzle for anyone trying to apply its concepts beyond puberty. The real question is, can the films construction of the self make sense of reality looking backwards, a notion that gets teased through a reoccurring gag throughout the film. Sure, it can speak to the perception that puberty affords it, but what happens when it is forced to contend for a different reality than our core beliefs assumed? What happens when reality threatens the legitimacy and trustworthiness of our perceptions?
I suppose one of the ways this film addresses this problem is by attempting to say that joy is not constrained to, confined to, or defined by our circumstance. It exists apart from it as a governing force over our lives, holding within it both our meaning and our purpose. There is, i think, fair and good truth here. But what is clear is that puberty perceives life according to its potential. It can feel what it does in the present because it believes there is a certain kind of future to be obtained in service of the self. It functions according to the belief that life has an aim, that progress has a shape, and that human flourishing is bound up in our happiness, or our experience of happiness.
Further, this is tied to our fundamental beliefs, structures that are built through our experiencing of the world. One of the lingering images in Inside Out 2 is of shattered beliefs being reconstructed in a way that pushes further and further out towards something transcendent. At the same time though its philosophy bleeds this transcendence back into its essential construct- the self. Even those things that see beyond ourselves are demonstrated to be part of our personhood, our identity. So what would happen if a third film was made looking back at this person from the perspective of times passage? Would a meaningful life and true identity rest in proving this conception of personhood to be true? In experiences justifying our commitment to joy/happiness as worthwhile? Would our understanding of reality overturn our core beliefs once again, and if so in which direction and to what end? These are of course the sorts of existential questions that recast those fundamental constructs which hold together our sense of meaning and purpose and existence in a different light. I do wonder how the missing component of this story might or could work itself into the story’s we tell to this films target generation, a generation that finds its meaning in a given cultural expectation and norm.
If nothing else, this is the sort of conversation the film opens the door to, and that’s a testament to its strength. Its willingness to go big with its ideas is an admirable thing. And all the storytelling elements that made the first one a beloved classic- humor, character, emotion- are here, just in a slightly more streamlined and compartmentalized fashion. And as I mentioned, the third act finds a way to break the door wide open in this regard, so even if the bulk of this film isn’t operating quite on the same level as its predecessor, it’s defintiely worth the investment as a whole.
Reading Journal 2024: A Life of Jesus Author: Shusaku Endo
It is equally as important to assess the target audience of Endo’s biography of Jesus as it is to assess the content, as each becomes a window into the other. Perhaps more important is the ability of this relarionship to allow the book to reach beyond the target audience to a wider world, something that Endo’s body of work has arguably already done.
Who is the target audience? I would say he is speaking to Japenese Christians, helping them to find the language of the Gospel in a way that makes sense to their culture and context. And to Japanese culture, simitaneoulsly using the book to bring the Gospel in a way that will make sense to that cultural context. Endo is very intentional about the lens through which he approaches the text and about locating the appropriate questions and concerns that might arise for his readers.
So what about the content? Endo sets the stage for his approach upfront in the initial chapters, purging some of the baggage of Western obsessions with truth as a kind of empirical fact and allowing the truth of the text to speak into the Japanese focus on narrative and myth. For Endo, it would only be in the West that myth comes to define a distinction between truth and fiction, and thus he fully embraces the broad spectrum of studies (biblical, theological, narrative, historical, textual) that is able to free him to navigate both what the initial readers/writers would have meant/thought in their time, and how that can be reconextualized into Japanese culture for the sake of the Japanese peoples.
One of the outcomes here might be isolating potential readers outside of this cultural context of course. There is a sense in which his commitment to both audience and form/content becomes indebted to his own convictions and his own faith, and certainly how he reasoned(s) towards it in his own life. It is as much a story about what compelled him towards belief as it is an exercise meant to fill what he sees as a gap between a highly westernized Gospel and text and a culture that needs to hear it and encounter it in their own language. Language reaching much more broadly than mere words. Here he leans on those personal connections and preferences, sometimes at the expense of detailing the larger scholarship or even doing the leg work to explain why and how he arrived where he does on given interpretative choices. To be clear, this is an intelligent man who brings a compelling perspective and voice to what would be for many in the West familiar stories. Yet there are points, as there would be for most of us, where he seems to miss some important scholarship along the way. This is partly, I imagine, because he is distinctly interested in that which might apply to his target audience.
What he does do though is establish a strong foundation, and this comes with the expectation that what he has to say will challenge both his audience and those outside of that reach in different ways. For those coming in from the outside, it is an opportunity to have our own bias’ and tendencies deconstructed and equally to get to know how a Japanese person might read and understand the text from their vantage point, and for those within the scope of his audience the Gospel, by its nature, challenges their cultural norms with its counter cultural concern.
One could then call this a deeply layered work. It reads however with a given simplicity at the same time, bringing with it a meditative quality meant to invoke the power of spiritual practice and the sacred text.
It’s the halfway point of 2024, which means time to check in with the year that’s been thus far in film.
There are some notable changes in my top 12 with Ryûsuke Hamaguchis Evil Does Not Exist working its way into my top 5 with its studied moral dilemma and commitment to the form. The emotionally resonant Turtles All The Way Down (Hannah Marks) and Weston Razooli’s whimsical and endearing Riddle of Fire found their way in to the bottom half of my top 12.
And then there were the films About Dry Grasses, The Bikeriders, Civil War, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, and Challengers, all titles I wrestled with, each vying for a spot in their own way (I’ll save the ultimate outcome for my list below)
A couple of films that got bumped out of my top 12 that were especially difficult choices: the wonderful and affecting existential crisis that is Sometimes I Think About Dying, the memorable and deeply affecting One Life with an aged turn by the iconic Anthony Hopkins, and the surprisingly emotional journeys in Problemista and The Book of Clarence.
Most notable perhaps is Dune 2 getting bumped off. This is partly because my deep respect for the film and its achievement sits alongside the fact that if is not my favorite genre. But the films at the top of my list that did capture my imagination most fully have been staying strong for the most part.
Before I get to my top 12, a shout out in the animated and horror categories, along with some Honorable Mentions/Hidden Gems.
Favorite Animated Films
The Peasants My most anticipated animated release of 2024, this follow up to the phenomenal Loving Vincent features an often breathtaking visual style that blurs the line between realism and animation, pushing the inventive techniques to a whole other level. A shared production between Poland and Ukraine, it is steeped in a sense of struggle, rich in a cultural expression that includes matters of religion, faith, family, politics. An impressive work and my favorite animated film of the year thus far,
No Dogs or Italians Allowed The only thing better than Italian culture in film would be accenting this culture with personal and intimate stories of Italian life (this is based on the real life story of the Director’s grand parents). Throw in some gorgeous stop motion animation and there was very little that could prevent me from falling for this film. Enjoyed the mix of real world documentary footage intermixed with the animation as well. Gives this a unique flavor.
Inside Out 2 I was ultimately mixed on this undeniable box office success, but that shouldn’t detract from its very real strengths. It ultimately finds that familiar Pixar magic and proves why it needed to exist as a natural progression of the larger story.
Favorite Documtary Films
Four Daughters Four Daughters is a unique docu-drama that blends the documentary elements in an unconventional way. It’s a bit isolating at first as I tried to gain my bearings, but once I found the rhythm I was able to understand what the filmmakers were trying to do. It’s a layered approach designed to really bring you in on the journey itself, creating an atmosphere of complete transparency and vulnerability. The film also hits hard with some unexpected twists and turns, making for a disconcerting but resonant viewing experience. Its designed so that portions will have you laughing before you realize that a given scene is actually not that humorous, or shocked/saddened before you realize the characters are making a joke. I know that my emotions were all over the map in any given moment, which is by design and the mark of what is a really strong film with real world stakes.
Steve! (Martin): A Documentary in 2 Pieces Not sure how this would play for people who aren’t a fan of Martin’s standup, but it offers a rare opportunity to see behind the curtain of this iconic figures personal journey. Most of what is here is stuff I had little to no idea about, stuff that plays straight into his film career as well. Does a great job of helping the viewer to get to know who he was, to understand his internal struggles, and to gain insight into his passion for comedy.
I Am Celihe Dion Did not expect this. Really well made. Touching, vulnerable, revealing. And that’s coming from someone who’s only real knowledge of Dion is her most popular songs. It is from the Director of Leave No Trace, so I guess the quality shouldn’t be that surprising.
Blue Angels It is standard stuff, but the material does the heavy lifting. Even if you don’t have much interest in the subject matter, it’s a strong, high flying, polished, tension filled and often thrilling visual exercise
Jim Henson: Idea Man It’s safe and by the numbers as far as docs go, but it’s also a nice tribute to one of great icons of our time.
Top 12 Horror
It has been a solid year for horror, with Caines inventive Late Night With Devil leading the pack.
Its homage to a bygone era of late night television has earned a ton of praise for good reason. Not far behind is the experimental indie I Saw The TV Glow, which caught a number of people off guard with its emotionally grounded metaphor. One of the most unique film experiences you’ll likely have this year.
A pair of creature features involving an infestation of Spiders (Sting and Infested)
A daring and captivating performance by Sydney Sweeney (Immaculate), a daring and energizing reimagining of a classic monster tale (Lisa Frankenstein) and a bonkers situational indie horror drama (The Coffee Table) fill in some of the gaps. Also worth mentioning is the adaptation of The Watchers from M. Nights daughter. It’s a mixed bag, but it is also intriguing to consider as a debut. And Last Stop at Yuma County is a fun, stylish and violent single location original hostage film, while The First Omen remains one of the best shot horror films of 2024 and surprisingly effective as a prequel.
Here are my rankings for my top horror thus far in 2024:
1. Late Night With The Devil 2. I Saw The TV Glow 3. The First Omen 4. Exhuma 5. Sting 6. Last Stop at Yuma County 7. Immaculate 8. Infested 9. Abigail 10. The Watchers 11. The Coffee Table 12. Lisa Frankenstein
Hidden Gems/Honorable Mentions
I could certainly shout out multiple larger profile titles that didn’t make my Top 12, including the likes of Furiosa and IF and Monkey Man, but this is a spotlight of some lower profile titles that stood out for me and are highly worth checking out:
The Teachers Lounge One of the most intense and stressful watches of 2024 thus far. The build up is next level Marmalade A low key, entertaining, indie action film that proves to be fun and inventive. First Time Caller Single location thriller that hits above its paygrade in terms of overall execution
In The Land of Saints and Sinners On its own a solid, slow burn Irish thriller that really captures the Irish countryside and its people, its also one of Neesons best films in recent memory
The Moon and Back Lots of wonderful and endearing dynamics at work here. It’s funny, sad quirky, charming, real, adventurous, relatable. It definitely has that low key, no frills indie vibe, but as a debut it’s the creative vision that really shines. Dreamin Wild Big on emotion and soaked in character and music, this story about a middle aged man reckoning with the notion of failed dreams and bItter legacy is as heartfelt as they come Thelma Probably the most fun premise you’ll find this year, leaning into the 90 plus year woman leading an espionage thriller motif with full commitment and gusto. Wild Goat Surf An impressive debut, made all the more worthwhile given its distinct flavor of Canadiana, set along the coastal area of British Columbia. It’s a coming of age film that explores the challenges of growing up in the face of adversity- single parent family, grief, being an outsider.
Lost in Tomorrow A quaint and lovely hidden gem. It feels a bit uncertain in the early going, but once the premise kicks in, following a young girl struggling to fit in at school and at home, it is quite affecting. Freuds Last Session My kind of film. Two diametrically opposed enigmatic true to life icons sparring over philosophy, theology, unlikely friendships and life.
Wicked Little Letters Little this year has been more fun than watching Jessie Buckleys profanity laden, feisty, determined mother persona in Wicked Little Letters. Paired with Olivia Coleman is the icing on the cake. Based on an equally compelling true story. Pratfall If the Before series new defines its own genre, this one is up there with the better homages. Just replace it with a French tourust talking philosophy and life as they wander the New York streets with an insomniac. IO Capitano Harrowing, intense, engaging. It’s about an asylum seekers journey from point A to B, across countries borders and of course sea. It’s really more about the resilience if the human spirit against great adversity Chithha An examination of abuse and trauma, or more specifically the trauma of sexual abuse, that does a lot without leaning into visual representation. As is typical of Indian cinema, the film is concerned for the way such events affect the whole, exploring social dynamics, the impact on families and communities, the nature of responsibility, obligation, forgiveness, and the power of emotions. It creates a complex drama that reaches beyond the act and into the psyche of the aftermath.
Top 12 of 2024 thus far at the halfway point of the year.
And finally, my Top 12 of 2024 thus far at the halfway point of the year.
I noted some of the changes above to my first quarter listings, and I have written about most of these films there and elsewhere in this space. Just to note some of the newcomers.
Riddle of Fire is described as a neo-fairy tale, but it really does defy categorization, albeit while feeling, at the same time, like an impassioned ode to a bygone era of filmmaking. An era where the simple art of imagination and a feeling of adventure are your tools rather than CGI, and where grassroots and no frills storytelling bolstered by natural chemistry between your characters is enough to make a meaningful and memorable film on a very small budget
Turtles All The Way Down was a deeply personal story for me, detailing an intimate struggle with anxiety. It made me feel seen and reflected one of the more emotional viewing experiences of the year.
Evil Does Not Exist is a nuanced examination of a particular moral crisis. It’s big on form, using its visual approach and its score to draw out different emotions and considerations. Technically speaking its one of the most impressive efforts to release this year.
About Dry Grasses. You could say a nearly 3 and half hour run time documenting a gradual spiral into an existential crisis using a script made up primarily of dialigue/conversation doesn’t sound like riveting cinema. Rest assured it is. The fact that it never really resolves its inate grappling with things like hopelessness, despair, isolation and meaninglessness makes it even more engrossing. It is from the Director of Winter Sleep and shares its concern for deep philosophical questions and existential crisis.
Civil War is representing a slot that just as easily could have been taken by Kjngdom of the Planet of the Apes as my other favorite of the bigger blockbusters this year, a film that took me by surprise. Kingdom might sneak back on after a rewatch, as I was really taken with it on a number of levels, but Civil War takes this spot for its visual presence and daring narrative. It makes use of every inch of its made for Imax format, and accomplishes something truly visceral and thought provoking.
The Bikeriders is subtle in its approach, deceptively so, but digging underneath the surface and what I found was a captivating character study that doubles as an exploration of a cultural and societal function. It asks bug questions, and gives us the necessary arcs through which to embody them. The more I think about this film the more I love it.
Reading Journal 2024: The One and Only Bob Author: Katherine Applegate
The One and Only Ivan is an all timer for me, so I had been reticent about picking up its sequel, which then turned into a trilogy. What inspired me to finally take the plunge was the recent release of a fourth and final book in the series.
The One and Only Bob picks up right where the last book left off, naturally narrowing in on one of its key characters, Bob, a mid size dog with his own way of seeing the world in the aftermath of the events captured in Ivan. Thus it progresses the narrative, just from a different point of view, and the way it ends sets the stage to do the same for Ruby in the third book.
Bob doesn’t have the emotional brevity of Ivan, but we do get a stronger dose of humor and action. It does pause from time to time to reflect on the bigger questions regarding life and death and relationship and art and meaning and existence that the series is interested in, which does anchor it within the same kind of ethos and purpose, there is just less of it and it’s not the real driving force, for better for for worse.
What it retains though is a strong sense of character and relatability. And the humor and action do at least compliment the strengths of the original.
Left me eager to get back into this world and its story with affectionate and loveable Ruby.
Reading Journal 2024: Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder Author: Salman Rushdie
On one level this book makes me a kindred mind with Rushdie. I love the way he uses the different events and experiences to draw out his life story as a cohesive and meaning making narrative. I love how he uses the specificity of the knife as both a literal and metaphorical device. I love how he can’t help but think simultaneously along functional, philosophical and theological lines.
I love how unapologetically he owns his cynism while also appealing to the larger forces of love that guide and draw his life.
On another level we couldn’t be more different, particularly where he uses his story as a prooftext for the non-existence of God, the childishness and foolishness of religion, and a treaties for the new atheist. Given how willing he is to ridicule practices such as people finding God in the stories of their life, it seems a bit hypocritical to use his own tragic story to argue for the foolishness of God as an idea.
And perhaps this is where my experience with this book is most readily defined. If I was really drawn to the imagination and artistry of his approach, I felt a bit duped by the superficial polemic. There is a rather lengthy segment of this book where he draws out an imagined conversation with his assailant that captures this most poignantly. It’s a fascinating and vulnerable experiment, working through as it does his own trauma. It is also wholly predictable at the same time, using the trauma to prop up a superficial caricature of religion as a whole.
This will preach to the new atheist agenda, to be sure, but it’s not exactly intellectually faithful as a polemic.
It should be said here at the same time that his trauma is legitimate, and what happened to him tragic. There’s no question about that. What he has to say as an atheist writing in a culture which he feels has diminished and caricatures his sense of personhood is a story worth telling, and in the context of the knife it makes for good storytelling too. However, as a personal meditation it’s just hard not to see the agenda behind it all. As a personal meditation it gets lost in the rhetoric and the polemic.
I think what makes the whole thing that much more interesting, and perhaps problematic, is that he depends on sensationalism to drive his points. It feels deeply inconsistent, for example, to speak of love the way he does as though it has some given, transcendent power, or to speak of the power of art as embodying and revealing the mystery of our existence, when at the same time he is arguing for a day and a time where such illusions would give way to the age of science, reason and truth. It doesn’t help that his cynicsm does at times tread into egotism, propping up his life as exhibit A, as though to say, hey, look at how my story allowed me to face a tragedy and still walk away believing that God does not exist. If I can do it, so can you.
All that said, I still actually found this to be quite engaging, and even at times inspired. I might not share his conclusions, but there is a lot that I share in language and interest, and I appreciated that. If i had one wish though, it’s that he would have fleshed out a bit more clearly what the controversy behind The Satanic Verses was, a book that comes up a few times as an important part of his story. If for readers like me who are unfamiliar with what it is and why it was so controversial. He does note that he wants to leave that book, or the experiences surrounding it, behind, even though the events of the attack ended up dragging it back to the surface. That might be why it appears so vague and undefined in his book. Writing a bit more about it would have helped to give and shape some greater context for his story.
Reading Journal 2024: The Age of Magical Overthinking: Notes on Modern Irrationality Author: Amanda Montell
Near the end of the book the author reflects on the current state of AI, calling back to a menial exercise she did one day out of boredom when she asked AI to describe the difference between its greatest value and humanity’s greatest value. In response, AI cites its greatest value as reason, while humanity’s greatest value is love. The author, whom takes a hard and cynical stance on the idea that AI can ever become truly humanlike, wonders in relationship to humanity, why not both? This provides a nice summary of what she was trying to accomplish in the book as a whole, arguing not for a denial of our penchant for irrationality, but in acceptance of it, seeing it as a tool of reason rather than a means for harm.
At the beginning of the book, author Amanda Montell describes the magical part of the book’s title as an ancient and necessary aspect of human nature, while the overthinking part of the title is a largely modern problem birthed by the enlightenment. This becomes important for knowing how to parse out when and how magical thinking, which can qualify as our penchant for irrationality, emerges as a potential tool for navigating this world in a healthy way. In recognizing that we all have these same operating tendencies, no matter how educated or smart (and sometimes more so when we are educated and smart, precisely because it leads us to believe that we aren’t irrational selves), it can foster empathy for others and ourselves in our common pursuit of what is true. And it is that empathy that can help protect against the human tendency to create necessary villains, to see and think in sharp binaries, and to get hyper focused on the negative and the problems. Precisely because nearly all of this is relational defined and built on a common concern for the truth. What’s important there is that truth can’t be reduced to one simple thing, which modernity has largely tried to do. Rather what we distinguish beteern is not truth as true or false, but as good or harm, which of course requires defintion.
The book is built around what feels like a collection of essays on different ideas, so it does feel a bit scattered. Much of it is a mix of social reflection and surface level social science, probably leaning more towards the former. Which isn’t bad, it’s just a particular approach that will work for some and not others.
I did find it interesting to try and hold her own conclusions up to the working assumptions she establishes in the book. For example, at one point she talks about the basic observational truth that while we can measure a certain kind of progress (technological, moral, science, social, civilization, medicine), we can also note that this progress has not resulted in greater and more happiness. Leaving one with the very real conundrum of not really knowing where all this progress is then leading or for. She roots an answer to part of this problem in magical thinking. We have an established penchant for seeing our time as worse than all the times before it, which leaves us with very little imagination for the future. In some ways it just results in a cyclical self fulfilling prophecy. One of the ways we cope with this is by leaning on nostalgia. We romanticize the past precisely because our memories are built to forget and filter out the negative so as to be happy and fulfilled. This qualifies as magical thinking. When looking at the present we intuitively long for a simpler time, even if that time wasn’t actually simpler. It is simply a time that memory has been able to process and recast, something we can even do for times before our time.
Given the assumptions of the author, this sort of irrationality should not be feared or disregarded in favor of overthinking. The function, even if its built on something that is technically not true, has a purpose and a reason, and we can develop the ability to use this belief to perhaps motivate us towards building towards a simpler future, one where our memories are capable of filtering out the mess and reimagining the good. If all we have is overthinking (reason), it effectively binds us to the bad by its nature.
What’s interesting to me is how this rests on the problem being an inherently modern one. Overthinking is a problem of reason, not magic, even as reason addresses the problem of magic. Overthinking actually makes us more irrational, making us vulnerable to things, like cults, which seems to be her favorite topic of discussion, that can actually harm us.
Much of this travels similar lines as Smith’s book Irrationality: The Dark Side of Reason, which is a much better treatment of the idea. But the idea is I think important for anyone parsing through the limits and shortcomings of the enlightenment project. Part of what makes Smith’s book a stronger overall thesis is that, unlike Montell, he doesn’t presuppose certain underlying values or truths. I haven’t read her book “Cultish”, but I suspect much of her assumed worldview comes from her own past experience with cults. Thus magical thinking is given the very clear boundaries of its functional and material source while maintaining a belief in certain unarguable truths. She argues at one point that this is simply a conflict and incongruity (allowing ourselves to believe in something false so as to build a healthier and better future in reality) that we must be willing to bear and carry as rational creatures. Where this challenges some of her conclusions is when she acrmtually needs to lean on hard and fast value claims. Perhaps AI is more right than even she wants to admit.
Nevertheless, lots of interesting bits of information here, even if it is a base treatment of its ideas. I liked the section where she dissects and deconstructs the whole self help for well being craze, where everyone and anyone magically becomes a health guru based on magical thinking. I like too how she goes out of her way to blur lines between what we might call extremism and our everyday thinking and function. We are all far more irrational than we think, and we all are equally indebted to our biases and often untold assumptions, and the more educated we become the more blind we often become to this. I also found it interesting how she makes a link between believing and belonging, showing how the push and pull between these two things is precisely the place where we find it most difficult to change our minds when confronted with facts or truths that push back on our conceptions of reality. If challenging what we percieve to be harmful truths leaves us isolated, we ultimately bind ourselves to these challenges by formulating beliefs that then can lead to a new community. Which is of course where the binaries and the oppositions and the tendency for overthinking emerges, and likewise our resistance to being challenged as supposed educated beings. The author is only willing to push this reasoning so far when it comes to her own worldview, but I do think it’s a fascinating idea to consider.
Overall I thought this was decent, if a bit underwhelming. Probably would work better with people to discuss it with, I’m sure, as each chapter kind of has it’s own thesis and argument. But interesting as a solo effort all the same.
Film Journal 2024: The First Omen Directed by Arkasha Stevenson
Wish I had gotten out to see this in theaters. A visually rich and patiently drawn prequel that effectively utilizes setting and atmosphere to elevate the story. Yes, it’s a slow burn, but its smart and effective in how it utilizes that to the benefit of building atmosphere and tone. It’s less scary than it is immersive and unsettling by intention.
A worthy predecessor that deserves to be seen by more people.
In his book titled Imagined Places: Journey’s into Literary America, Micheal Pearson talks about how people have two basic conceptions of place- the place in which we can live, and the place in which our imaginations are drawn precisely because of the ways in which the place we imagine contrasts with the place in which we live. For Micheal Pearson we need both:
“Everybody has their ideal landscape and an antithetical landscape as well, a place that the person is drawn toward. It’s a place, he feels, that fascinates and startles with the difference from our own home ground. There’s a positive and a negative pole.”
For me, it is prairie and ocean/river. Living technically 10 blocks from the Red River is a microcosm of living 3,000 kilometers from the ocean. The 70 km drive from Winnipeg to Lake Winnipeg a slightly bigger microcosm. All manifest this basic tension in their own way. One roots us, one draws us, and inbetween these places we find perspective
Film Journal 2024: The Watchers Ishana Night Shyamalan
Where it stumbles a bit in its execution, as an exercise in vision and potential The Watchers proves a worthy effort as a debut.
Part of the challenge for Ishana Night Shyamalan is finding ways to reign in what is a large and complex mythology underlying the story. You can feel this most acutely in the first half of the film when, following a beautifully shot and intensely captured opening sequence, the plot starts to move forward at a rapid fire pace. So fast in fact that it is difficult to keep up with where the story is going, what the story is doing, and how we even got to where we are at certain and sharp narrative turns.
There is a point though where it starts to settle in, and once a half point twist fills in the details with more clarity Shyamalan is able to then begin to explore a bit more of her cinematic vision and exercise some of her strengths as a filmmaker.
It is clear that she is good at thinking big. This is less the high concept approach of her father and more of a modern mythological approach, revelling in the ability to explore the intersection between that ancient story telling device and deep humanistic concern. The ending leaves no doubt that she can give big ideas a real and personal application.
The characters aren’t as fleshed out as I would have liked, even with Fanning giving a decently strong turn as the lead, but they all are given an important place in the story in their own way. The sound work and the visual approach is perhaps even more impressive, both being drawn with a careful and intimate touch.
Definitely left me wanting to see more from this young Director, and excited to see how she grows into her own beyond her father’s shadow. In fact, she effectively drew me into this story enough to go out and buy the book right after I left the theater. I’m really curious to see what her adaptive choices were.
The Stories of my Life 