Why does Auden endure? He was a man for all stylistic seasons, “capable of besieging and capturing the most difficult of traditional forms, from the sestina and the villanelle to the canzone; capable in almost the same breath of mimicking the tempo and language of an American blues or folk song; capable of a Popean delicacy of means or a Swiftian volley of scorn; capable of Anglo-Saxon sparseness and Tennysonian orotundity.”
The serious charm of Edward Bawden: “Born in 1903, the son of an Essex ironmonger, Bawden was a solitary child in a strict Methodist family—his chronic shyness hiding an eccentric, wicked wit. From his teenage years, he wanted to be a book illustrator. He won a scholarship to the Design School of the Royal College of Art, where he was taught by Paul Nash, with Barbara Hepworth, Henry Moore, and the fellow student he met on his first day there in 1922 who became his close friend, Eric Ravilious. After Bawden returned from a traveling scholarship to Italy in 1925, commercial work came quickly: a brochure for Poole Pottery brought employment with the pioneering Curwen Press; a poster for the London Underground (for which he and Ravilious later produced many designs) showed off his boldness of style; a playful series of travel advertisements with drawings based on place-names for Shell gained public affection. It was the start of a design career that ranged from wallpapers, textiles, and grand murals to linocuts for an edition of Aesop’s Fables and adverts for the upmarket London grocer Fortnum & Mason.”
Why are obstacle-course races so popular? Because running is boring: “Participation in traditional road races like marathons and 5K’s, while still high, is on the decline in the United States. After peaking at 19 million finishers in 2013, participation fell to just over 17 million in 2016, according to the New York Times. Running USA’s annual report stated that only 3 percent of those running road races in 2016 completed a marathon. At the same time, participation in Spartan, Tough Mudder and other OCRs are on the rise. Since each was founded in 2010, Tough Mudder reports 2 million total participants and Spartan claims 5 million.”
The aesthetics and ethics of tact: “In his new book, Tact: Aesthetic Liberalism and the Essay Form in Nineteenth-Century Britain, David Russell argues that over the course of the 19th century, “tact” (derived from tactus, the Latin for touch) came into common usage as a way to describe an ethos of engagement. The idea of ‘feeling one’s way’ is crucial for Russell, who sees tact as an aesthetic and ethical practice embedded in experience. But he argues that, with the spread of industrialization and the growth of cities over the course of the 19th century, tact loses its exclusive association with ‘polished society’ and aristocracy. Shifting its weight from ‘politesse to politics,’ tact becomes a way to navigate difference and the spread of democracy, to deal with ‘the complexity of modern social life […] and the question of how people are to live together in it.’ For Russell, ‘tact’ refers not just to good manners but to a kind of overarching aesthetic-ethical philosophy, best expressed, at least in the 19th century, in the form of the essay.”
In praise of Britain’s National Trust gardens, libraries, and moated castles: “Historic countryside properties — enduring through boom times and busts — charm 21st-century visitors.” (Don’t miss the slide show in this piece.)
Kevin Vanhoozer writes a letter to an aspiring theologian: “It’s true, there is a guild of ‘professional’ theologians—mostly academics who populate colleges, seminaries, and university divinity schools—and there are scholarly journals and awards to be had, not to mention salaries and sabbaticals. I know it’s tempting, especially when you’re still a student, to revere or perhaps romanticize your teachers and the lives they lead. The reality—grading papers, committee meetings, critical reviews, etc.—is different. It gets worse: Theology ranks very low on the totem pole of academic status. Banish, therefore, all thought of ‘success,’ and don’t confuse making a living as a theologian with living out the knowledge of God. If you aspire to speak of God, do so to please God, not people (cf. Gal. 1:10; 1 Thess. 2:4)—neither the professionals nor their popularly cultured despisers. In short: If you see God as a means to worldly fame, power, or popularity, please don’t.”
By the way, keep an eye out for the first “A Reader Recommends” entry on Wednesday. If there’s a book you’d like to recommend to Prufrock subscribers, send the title and a few sentences of explanation my way. The focus is on not particularly well known works of fiction, but I’m open to nonfiction and poetry, too. If I’m able to use your recommendation, I’ll let you know in a day or two.
Essay of the Day:
If you’ve never viewed an Ingmar Bergman film, you’re missing out. John Simon explains why:
“Near the beginning of my 1972 book Ingmar Bergman Directs, I wrote that “Ingmar Bergman is, in my most carefully considered opinion, the greatest filmmaker the world has seen so far.” Forty-six years later, I stand by that judgment. Bergman made about 50 feature films, as well as many television and radio programs. He staged several operas and ballets, and directed—and sometimes wrote—many theater productions. He was the author of books both autobiographical and fictional, not to mention various articles and speeches. But neither quantity nor diversity matters as much as quality and originality, in which his works abound.
“Many of Bergman’s films received wide critical acclaim, and even his lesser achievements became objects of fascination and admiration during his lifetime. Whole new modes of filmmaking derived from Bergman, and the vast number of commentators on his works is very nearly equaled by those influenced by him, whether or not they know it. But the passage of time, the evolution of tastes, and our cultural emphasis on the new has meant that today’s young American moviegoers are unfamiliar with the Swedish filmmaker’s work. Even true cinephiles under the age of, say, 40 may never have seen one of his pictures. So Bergman’s centenary—he was born on July 14, 1918—provides a good occasion to introduce his work to new generations of viewers, with a brief overview of his career and a few suggestions for films that could serve as points of entry.”
Photo: Asciano
Poem: Charles Baudelaire, “The Albatross” (translated by Traci O’Dea)
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