River of Play

Resisting Despair

In a recent opinion piece over at the Chronicle, Pascal Bruckner argues for ecologism (a sort of conservation-minded ideology) as the new hairshirt for the world. Tales of ecological collapse—driven by humans and their desires—evoke a guilt as heavy and unavoidable as original sin.

We, those affected by such dolor, need to get a grip. We need to shake off our despair and embrace progress. Bruckner rallies around this call:

A race has begun between the forces of despair and those of human ingenuity. In other words, the remedy is found in the disease, in the despised industrial civilization, the frightening science, the endless crisis, the globalization that exceeds our grasp: Only an increase in research, an explosion of creativity, or an unprecedented technological advance will be able to save us. We have to try to push back the boundaries of the possible by encouraging the most fantastic initiatives, the most mind-boggling ideas. We have to transform the increasing scarcity of resources into a wealth of inventions.

Shame! And get a sweater.

 

As well as this final flourish: “Above all, we have to save the world from its self-proclaimed saviors, who brandish the threat of great chaos in order to impose their lethal impulses.”

The piece left me thinking that maybe an American raised outside of Catholicism doesn’t feel the weight of guilt drag so heavily. Or maybe it’s that I don’t mind taking short showers and wearing sweaters. Or it may be that I don’t participate enough in the mainstream of my culture and so the messages he resists are muted for me. And, really, “lethal impulses”?

I’ll say this, though, bootstrapping isn’t the answer. Our ability to leverage our technology seems suspect at best (I’ll just reach back to Alfred Nobel to get the ball rolling). However, I agree that “What is at stake is the pleasure of living together on this planet that will survive us, whatever we do to it.” And we certainly need “trailblazers and stimulators” to insure that survival. But there’s a balance to be found, and the search for that balance is not served well by Bruckner.

Oh, and the comments are lively!

Very Emerald, Not So Licious

The editor comments are back. Substantial but not unfair. In our defense, Jeremy and I generated 10k words in two weeks. We were expecting heavy notes, and so it wasn't a shock to return to the essay. But it's still a lot of work. 

And ASLE is wrapping up. My tribe--and Jeremy's--disbanding for another two years. So I'm in a deeply ecocritical state of mind that doesn't shut off when I'm reading books to Wendy.

Enter The Apple-Pip Princess and Emeraldalicious.

The former is a kind of re-telling of theParable of the Talents. The daughter, in this version, who wins approval works hard with her mother's magic to re-grow the kingdom. In Emeraldalicious--

I'll cut to the chase: how epic is this fail?

The book is another in the "-alicious" franchise begun by Pinkalicious. The art is intriguingly awkward and the story--for the first one--is unsteady and perhaps objectionable. Perhaps not. So we've read other books in the series because they get high-profile launches and library space, and they're fine, I guess, if forgettable.

Short answer: epic.

In this book, Pink and her brother are in a park. They discover a trash heap (not Marjory) in their favorite part of the park and use egocentrism and magic to remove the garbage. Now, I could spend a bit of time going over the details of the fail, but I'll narrow it down to one criticism: Change takes work--not magic, not wishing. I don't mind magic in a story, and if magic had helped her to contact all her friends to come help clean up the park, then I wouldn't be all cranky (in this scenario, Twitter=magic). Change isn't magic. It's us.

I had Dana read it with the only preface being that I was suspicious. She put it down at the end and tucked it back into the libary bag. She only raised an eyebrow at me. We've talked about it, of course, but it's the beauty of libraries: you don't own the books.