Nous Te Souviendras

There are few absolute truths about politics.  No matter how strongly we hold our beliefs or how clear and righteous we believe them to be, there will always be someone who believes the opposite with equal fervor, who believes their stance is just as obviously good.  This is why those seeking absolutist solutions to political challenges are doomed to failure, and why those policies will simply be overcome, not necessarily by opposing parties or individuals, but by the passage of time and the fluid state of politics itself.  For this reason, the few truths that do exist about politics are all the more sacred, and cannot be claimed by one passing party or one mortal individual.

There is one truth above all the truths, and it's simpler than one might think: we live together as humans on this Earth.

It's not that simple, of course, but in a few essential ways our joint presence on this Earth is all that matters.  It means that we cannot escape each other, that every man, woman and child who dies is a loss for all of us, and the birth of every boy and girl is a promise that they will change us all, for good or ill.  It means that every resource we discover or create will be drawn upon by us all, that once exhausted they will be missed by us all.  It means that the better we make our neighbors, the better they can make us, and as we degrade them, we degrade ourselves.  None of this is optional, and because none of it is optional, we all have to be invested in the communal project of our own existence.  This means that no matter our differences - and we have had them, and will have them, forever - we must understand that we are all together, as humans, on this Earth.

Each of us is delivered to this home naked and screaming, with little but luck and circumstance to direct our path forward, and this demands that we respect each other as humans fundamentally, before anything else.  This too requires that we remember that those below and above us share this humanity.  None of us are infallible, none of us are perfect, none of us escape life without feeling fear or being intoxicated by love.  Still, we must rely on imperfect humans to shape our politics and our societies, because there are no other options. God, the universe, chaos, chance - these options are no options at all because they write no policy and take no votes, make no speeches and settle no arguments.  To require them to do so would be insulting in itself, to resign great sublime powers to the grind of determining the minutiae of human life, and it would rescind from us the great power of free will, which allows us to learn from our mistakes and victories alike.  It removes the miracle of humanity and its beautiful relationship to everything beyond us - it renders God and the Webb telescope equally irrelevant.  We must work through this business of living together with each other, as imperfect, mortal human beings.

Canada lost a man who understood this today.  The Honourable Jack Layton passed away today after a long fight with cancer.  He will be fiercely missed.

Jack Layton was no apolitical being and he could never be called a non-partisan voice.  He lead the New Democratic Party to extraordinary gains this past election, and his last letter, when directed at his party, his caucus and his beloved province, rings clearly like the bells of the ships and ports of Quebec with his liberal identity.  Liberals in Canada have lost a powerful leader, one whose work, had it not been cut short by cancer, could have taken Canada to a new position on the world stage.  As a liberal, I hope every day for a leader like Layton, a leader who is willing to mount a spirited defense of liberalism in its robust, rich and appropriate form, and to challenge the image of liberalism that has been painted by those foolish enough to believe Mao and Stalin represent liberalism, rather than their own perverted and ultimately weak doctrines. The NDP will have an extremely difficult time replacing Jack Layton, and they may never succeed - every so often we are given political leaders who are simply unique.  They will find a new leader, and they will have strong leaders, but they may never replace Layton.

What I think makes Layton special is when he turns to Canada as a whole, it is at the end of his letter, and it is nothing but these universal truths.  In the end, Layton understood that he stood on this Earth, amidst his fellow humans, engaged in a communal project that will outlast but still enrich all of us in the time we do have, and bear up those who will succeed us. You can - and should - read the entirety of his letter here, and it would be foolish of me to try paraphrasing his last message to Canada, so I will simply leave it here.

And finally, to all Canadians: Canada is a great country, one of the hopes of the world. We can be a better one – a country of greater equality, justice, and opportunity. We can build a prosperous economy and a society that shares its benefits more fairly. We can look after our seniors. We can offer better futures for our children. We can do our part to save the world’s environment. We can restore our good name in the world. We can do all of these things because we finally have a party system at the national level where there are real choices; where your vote matters; where working for change can actually bring about change. In the months and years to come, New Democrats will put a compelling new alternative to you. My colleagues in our party are an impressive, committed team. Give them a careful hearing; consider the alternatives; and consider that we can be a better, fairer, more equal country by working together. Don’t let them tell you it can’t be done.

My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.

All my very best,

Jack Layton

Bli Sterk, Norge.

I've started trying to write about Norway many times this week, and every time I get stuck.  I'm a political scientist, so I want to say something comprehensive and true about the political factors that were in play during this violence, but that's not what I, the person who is incidentally a political scientist, want to say, and it's not what actually drives me to write about it.  There is no dearth of writing about Norway, and I could probably just leave it alone and no one would notice.  But I can't leave it alone because it won't leave me alone.  So I thought about this and I think I know how to write about it.

My Mom spent a year in Norway after her graduation from Middlebury, making friends and taking classes and learning Norwegian.  When we were kids, she used to swear in Norwegian so even if we DID repeat what she said, people probably wouldn't know.  Crafty lady, my Mom.  Unfortunately, we eventually got older and increased our powers of persuasion, and we used them to make her tell us what she was saying.  This wasn't as satisfying as one would hope, as is so often the case with swearing in other languages; you're expecting a one-to-one translation but it often turns out that someone's getting called a moldy foot or something.  The standby for road rage was pretty good, though.  It went fy faen i helvete, du er en drittsekk, which is "the devil in hell, you're a shitsack."  We adopted "drittsekk" as a kind of family shibboleth, because we're really classy like that.  This led to a really great family moment several years later when we were visiting Norwegian friends in South Carolina and overheard a tantrum-throwing six year old call her mother a drittsekk, to our immense collective amusement.

Many of Mom's friends came to visit us over the years, and we still exchange Christmas presents with many of them.  One visit was from her host parents, and Reidar, who was a beautiful painter, went down to Little Indian Lake to paint and somehow, despite speaking no English, managed to charm the faces off some kids fishing down there.  They sent him home with a still-flopping and fairly large fish in a plastic bag (?????).  He came rolling up the front walk with this fish in a bag yelling "fiske, fiske, fiske" and we put it in the clawfoot bathtub and fed it fish food flakes for three days before sanity was mustered and we took it back to the lake.  (In retrospect, he probably expected that we would kill and eat it, as you do when you get an edibly-sized fish.  He did not realize he was dealing with suburbanites.)  All of these visits were equally great, because Norwegians are generally wonderful, and Mom seems to have befriended the absolute best of Norway, which is not surprising if you have ever met my Mom.  The longest visit, though, was from Cecilie, my parents' exchange student.

Mom and Cecile at my wedding in 2009

Cecilie arrived in Worcester in 2006, and she is awesome.  Longtime readers of this blog may recognize her as "the Weege," who came on a cruise with my college roommate and I in an incredible lapse of good judgment on my mother's part.  ("Take the underage Norwegian entrusted to my care on a cruise under the supervision of two drunks?  Absolutely!"  IT WAS FINE, DON'T WORRY, MOM.)   [NB: longtime readers will also be glad to know that Cecilie, her family and her friends are all okay.]  Cecilie and I really hit it off, and we had a total blast going on adventures and talking and hanging out.  She was also a constant source of unintentional humor.  For example, she once came home from school having removed large chunks of skin from her legs by falling off her bike.  I know that doesn't sound very funny.  Here's why it is: she fell off her bike because she was eating yogurt while riding.  With a spoon.  She and I have kept in touch and she came back to stand up for me at my wedding.  This allowed us to relive another humorous incident.  Cecilie was going to prom and wasn't interested in, you know, Googling dress size equivalents, so she just kind of ordered a dress in a size that sounded good.  I'm still not sure how she breathed at prom, because it took Mom and I both to wrassle her into it.  Who does that?  The best part is, J. Crew, whence my bridesmaid dresses came, doesn't ship to Norway, so she had to ship her dress to my parents' house and see if it fit a couple days before the wedding.  Kind of time sensitive, so obviously, she did the pick-a-size-any-size routine again.  I don't know, you guys.  It worked out okay both times though, so maybe I shouldn't mock.

In any case, we talked a lot about politics and culture, because there was a lot of stuff that Cecilie ran into that made her wonder what the hell was in the water over here, as well as a lot of stuff that she was simply curious about.  It's thinking about these conversations that make me feel so sad for Norway in the wake of this massacre.  Talking with Cecilie showed me that Norwegian culture simply does not include violence and guns in the same way that American culture does.  This is not to say that there's no crime in Norway and everyone has a faintly glowing halo floating above their heads at all times.  Instead, it means that you would not buy a gun for "home defense" because first of all a human life is more sacred than physical property and secondly, why would you stand and deliver when you could escape, stay safe, and call the cops?  Resorting to violence is simply not a thing, and in many cases, not an option, because there are so few guns.  I offered to take Cecilie up shooting with friends while she was here, and she was amazed that average people would just HAVE guns to take to the range to shoot around.  She didn't totally get what I meant when I said we could go shooting because her prevailing understanding of guns did not include random people having them.

It's hard for Americans to imagine a culture so bereft of guns and so adverse to violence.  Even if we don't own guns and even if we don't like guns, we are still bombarded at all times with violent imagery from every kind of media.  Guns and violence are glorified and held up as solutions to problems, and even when they're not being glorified, they are often treated as a common fact of life.  That is simply not there in Norway.  Now, imagine that you are in this culture, and let's even assume that you're pretty cosmopolitan and you know about gun culture in the US and you kind of get it even if you think the American gun fixation is weird.  It's still something that's Over There.  Imagine this, and then imagine Anders Behring Breivik.

Breivik's actions were shocking even for we jaded Americans.  The idea that someone would gather children around and open fire on them, that someone would fire on children swimming away in a desperate bid for the mainland, that someone would bomb government buildings...these are shocking ideas.  These are shocking ideas even to people who remember Timothy McVeigh.  These are shocking ideas to people who remember September 11th.  They are the acts of a dangerous and evil man.  But even as we are shocked, Americans should remember that this is a thousand times worse for Norway, not only because the death toll was proportionately worse than September 11th and because it happened on Norwegian soil, but because these attacks represent a leap in conception of violence so much greater than it would be for us.  We shouldn't count our high tolerance for violence as a positive, but we can understand how it would be some insulation against at least a small part of the trauma.

I read an article today that included some texts from one of the young women stuck on Utøya who survived.  She texted her mother "I love you even if I still misbehave from time to time." Her mother told her to "give a sign of life every five minutes."  For me, all of Norway is in those two sentences.  That Julie, a 16 year old, would think to mention that she still misbehaves from time to time while hiding from a gunman, seems to express such a fully realized love that my heart breaks as I think about it.  Her mother's asking for a sign of life every five minutes - five minutes!  How could you have the strength to ask your child for something so reasonable, instead of begging for continual interaction?  I could write another 10,000 words and never hit on what it is about these phrases that is so Norwegian.  They are so real, and so practical, even in the most chaotic possible circumstances.  It is my hope that that same resolute attachment to truth, strength and the Norwegian way will carry Norway through this terrible time and emerge stronger than ever.

Bli sterk, Norge.

I Really Must Insist That Alan Rickman Stop Being So Damn Endearing.

I mean this is just excessive.

Alexander McQueen

A wonderful, smart friend of mine referred me to Harvey Mansfield's writings on formality and the role clothing plays in our communication of our selves to other people, and I had one of those brilliant, revelatory moments that come from reading a really smart person's coherent summation of something you felt but could never quantify. Mansfield wisely connects personal presentation to political life, and I don't think it's necessary to limit fashion to an announcement of our private politics alone. Clothing, particularly in runway shows, can speak to large-scale political themes sometimes even more clearly than words. Now, it's difficult to have a complete conversation via clothing for all the obvious reasons, but it can frame a question differently or begin the conversation in the space between people's reactions to a garment. I think our most virulent pop political discussions stem from a problematic framing of debate, so gaining new context can be invaluable.

Alexander McQueen died last week, and there are few designers as willing to Say Something through their clothing and presentation as he was. I wrote a while ago about Lady Gaga and the value of people who fight against the conforming pressures of democratic equality and it's no surprise that she and McQueen worked together closely; they shared many of the same sensibilities and dimensions of clothing. There can be no question that McQueen was revolutionary and that he created clothing with true meaning. In an era when new media diffuse the kind of attention that once created superstars on a frequent basis, McQueen's dramatic vision elevated him to a certain plane that few can achieve...a plane upon which all comers can react to and appreciate one's work.

Unfortunately, that kind of excellence is wildly stressful, particularly when accessed through a creative enterprise like fashion. When you look at the brightest stars, you can't help but notice that they burn out so quickly - a certain kind of creative genius just can't survive in the kind of conformist, market-centric world we have here on Earth. McQueen had suffered massive loss in recent weeks and years and it seems like the strain of that emptiness in his life along with the drain of such a creative life overwhelmed him. It is a huge loss. I hoped to one day own one of his beautiful creations, but that seems unlikely now. Instead, I hope to constantly question my fashion and push my limits in the hopes of challenging the world around me in some small way.

I've been meaning to write something about McQueen since I first heard the news, but I can't figure out how to do it all justice and I think that might be because it's impossible. I didn't know McQueen, but his clothes spoke to me. These are some of my favorites; some have commentary, some don't. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do, and more importantly that they make you think.

I feel a little odd about using the same phrase to react to the deaths of political leaders and to fashion designers, but I keep feeling one phrase over and over..."a great light has gone out."

RTW Spring 2005

What does the blend of ultra feminine detail with the super-realistic breastplate mean? How about the fact that the head and neck are immobilized? Is this an enthusiastic endorsement of rigid gender stereotypes, or a dramatic image meant to point out their weaknesses?

RTW Spring 2005

I love the amazing sculptural quality of this dress, to say nothing of the civilization springing from her head up there. The skirt is amazing, and the bodice doubly so. What does the headdress mean?

RTW Spring 2005

RTW Spring 2005

More use of the football imagery in the breastplate, but with the swirling, complex ethnic designs on the skirt. Is he pointing out the toughness in women or the femininity in the most aggressive sports?

RTW Spring 2005

I just love the shapes in this - the cut of the jacket is particularly interesting, more so when juxtaposed alongside the swath of lace.

RTW Fall 2006

Most of McQueen's shows have an unmistakable connection to nature, often giving you the feeling that they were clipped out of the woods and transported to the runway. Here, the glorious shock of feathers adds lightness but the overall effect is of strength.

RTW Fall 2006

This...is a tree. I loved the use of the feather headdresses in this collection.

RTW Fall 2006

RTW Fall 2006

The diagonal plaids here are glorious.

RTW Fall 2006

You can't really degrade or enrich the female form without understanding its anatomy. There are serious questions about McQueen's outlook on women and they deserve consideration, but I think this jacket in particular demonstrates that his were not idle comments on the female form. This is someone who understood the female body, and knowing that fact necessarily directs our considerations of his gender politics. (For the record, I believe his work was quite feminist, and that the reshaping of the female form he engaged in challenged traditional stereotypes of feminine beauty.)

RTW Fall 2006

RTW Spring 2007

I don't love the giant hat, but I do love the beautiful ruffling and the sheer top.
RTW Spring 2007
McQueen honed his chops on Savile Row as a tailor; the knowledge he gleaned from that experience allowed him not only to create his amazing works of art but to play with gender stereotypes in fashion specifically, as he does in this beautiful suit.

RTW Spring 2007

RTW Spring 2007

Of course, it's not always about the body alone, and this is why McQueen's challenges to gender in fashion are so interesting. Here's a piece that plays on the Spanish mantilla comb; does it comment on the gender rules bound up in that tradition or on weddings as a whole?

RTW Spring 2007

What is being said by leaving the breasts exposed and emphasizing the hips?

RTW Fall 2007

RTW Fall 2007

RTW Fall 2007

A golden idol?

RTW Fall 2007

How about this one, in heavy tones with a covered mouth? Why is the chest piece so detailed and true to the female anatomy until it reaches the genitalia?

RTW Spring 2008

More natural references, not only in the headdress but in the pops of red against the late-spring-snow shade of grey.

RTW Spring 2008

RTW Spring 2008

Amazing construction. What's with the cage?

RTW Spring 2008

RTW Spring 2008

I love these leg...things. It looks almost like a delicate tattoo.

RTW Spring 2008

Janet Jackson wore this out to some event or the other and looked effing magnificent in it, but she did wear a different belt and this one is glorious. I love how different it looked on Janet as opposed to this model. This is the kind of thing I wear in my best dreams.

RTW Spring 2008

I actually like the taxidermy and the reminder of mortality it provides in contrast with the springy blue of this dress. Perfect balance.

RTW Fall 2008

This collection was maybe my favorite ever. It was inspired by the Muscovian Ballet and I just love everything about it. The models are walking around a giant fake tree - I included video at the end of this post - and I love how their wild hair seems to be blending back in to the nature around them.

RTW Fall 2008

RTW Fall 2008

This detail is mind boggling. I can hardly imagine toiling over its production for something architectural, much less something to be worn. I want nothing more than to touch this.

RTW Fall 2008

Let's have it said: putting peacocks on any garment without having it look cheesy is a monumental achievement. This is a whole other realm beyond that achievement.

RTW Fall 2008

RTW Fall 2008

RTW Fall 2008

RTW Fall 2008

This seems so simple but the more you look, the more you find to look at. Beautiful!

RTW Fall 2008

If I had my way I would dress in something like this every day. Take that as you will.

RTW Spring 2009

A couple designers have attempted the "tea bag" method of including flora and tulle in garments, but I think the use of clearly cutout flowers is one hundred times more effective.

RTW Spring 2009

RTW Fall 2009

I love houndstooth so, so much. I loved the use of it in this collection because it reclaimed it from the elderly masses. I remember going to DC for Inauguration and thinking I was the only quasi-elderly person wearing the pattern and thus giving it out as an identifying item, only to find that EVERYONE was about houndstooth.

RTW Fall 2009

Oh glorious pattern. This should be blinding but it's gorgeous.

RTW Fall 2009

I love the way this positions the model as an observer. She's forced into a traditional stance of elitist observation. This is another piece where gender politics are forced to the fore...what is the woman's role? To observe? To judge? To control?

RTW Spring 2010

Here begins McQueen's most recent collection, full of eerie questions about what is natural. This is clearly a line for aliens, but can you really deny its organic feel?

RTW Spring 2010

RTW Spring 2010

This is a waterfall. It's a waterfall,

RTW Spring 2010

RTW Spring 2010

Somehow I feel like this is a fitting end to this totally inadequate posting. Take a moment to consider the floating top, the immaculate tailoring, the challenges of the shoes. We will miss you, Lee McQueen, probably more than we know now.

A great light has gone out.