A Christmas Story

Posted on December 28, 2014 by leslie

Christmas Story

A Christmas Story

Ilana Mercer Talks Turkey

Described by a critic as “one of those rare movies you can say is perfect in every way,” “A Christmas Story,” directed by Bob Clark, debuted in 1983. Set in the 1940s, the film depicts a series of family vignettes through the eyes of 9-year-old Ralphie Parker, who yearns for that gift of all gifts: the Daisy Red Ryder BB gun.

This was boyhood before “bang-bang you’re dead” was banned; family life prior to “One Dad Two Dads Brown Dad Blue Dads,” and Christmas before Saint Nicholas was denounced for his whiteness and “merry Christmas” condemned for its exclusiveness.

If children could choose the family into which they were born, most would opt for the kind depicted in “A Christmas Story,” where mom is a happy homemaker, dad a devoted working stiff, and between them, they have zero repertoire of progressive psychobabble to rub together.

Although clearly adored, Ralphie is not encouraged to share his feelings at every turn. Nor is he, in the spirit of gender-neutral parenting, circa 2014, urged to act out like a girl if he’s feeling … girlie. Instead, Ralphie is taught restraint and self-control. And horrors: the little boy even has his mouth washed out with soap and water for uttering the “F” expletive. “My personal preference was for Lux,” reveals Ralphie, “but I found Palmolive had a nice piquant after-dinner flavor—heady but with just a touch of mellow smoothness.” Ralphie is, of course, guilt-tripped with stories about starving Biafrans when he refuses to finish his food.

The parenting practiced so successfully by Mr. and Mrs. Parker fails every progressive commandment. By today’s standards, the delightful, un-precocious protagonist of “A Christmas Story” would be doomed to a lifetime on the therapist’s chaise lounge—and certainly to daily doses of Ritalin, as punishment for unbridled boyishness and daydreaming in class. Yet despite his therapeutically challenged upbringing, Ralphie is a happy little boy. For progressives—for whom it has long been axiomatic that the traditional family is the source of oppression for women and children—this is inexplicable.

Perhaps the first to have conflated the values of the bourgeois family with pathological authoritarianism was philosopher Theodor Adorno. Adorno’s formulations on authoritarianism have informed the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. In general, the consensus among these rights’ advocates has been that the traditional family’s hierarchical structure disempowers children. The solution: let the State destabilize the parent-child relationship via policies that would define and limit the power of the parent, while increasing the power of child and political proxies.

While America’s founders intended for the family to be left untouched as “the major source of an orderly and free society”—Dr. Allan Carlson’s words—politicians and jurists have decided to the contrary. What was once the economic and social backbone of American society has been inestimably weakened by both the Welfare State and the Supreme Court—what with the latter’s redefinition of family and marriage, and the former’s incremental steps to trounce parents as the child’s primary socialization agent.

Culturally, the family has been demoted to what Charles Sykes once termed a “Therapeutic Family.” Having “adjusted itself to the new demands of the social contract with the Self,” wrote Sykes in “A Nation of Victims,” “the modern family has ceased to inculcate values.” Instead, it exists exclusively for the ostensible unleashing of “self-expression and creativity” in its members.

Progressives have triumphed. Very little remains of the unit that was once a vector for the transmission of values in American society. Women and children are less likely than ever to have to endure the confines of this bête noire of a family, with its typically “oppressed” mother, old-fashioned father and contained kids. Nowadays, women are more likely to be divorced, never married, or to bear children out of wedlock.

Unencumbered by marriage, women are also more prone to poverty, addictions and sexually transmitted diseases. Their children, a third of whom are being raised in households headed by a mother only, are paying the price in a greater propensity for poverty, and higher dropout, addiction and crime rates. Witness the black family. Having survived the perils of slavery, it was still intact until the 1930s, when the dead hand of the Welfare State finished it off. As a social unit, the black American family is near extinct.

Contemporary America’s familial fragmentation—sky-high divorce rates and illegitimacy—has translated into juvenile crime, drug abuse and illiteracy. Yet despite all the State has done to “liberate” children from the strictures of the traditional family, ask any “emancipated” child and he’ll tell you: more than anything, he yearns for a mom and dad like Ralphie’s.

Indeed, lucky is the little boy who has such a family. Luckier still is the lad who has both such a family and … a BB gun.

Like the family depicted in his charming Christmas film, Bob Clark and his own son are dead and buried—killed by a big beneficiary of Uncle Sam, the criminal alien.

ILANA MERCER is a paleolibertarian writer based in the United States. She pens WND’s longest-standing column, “Return to Reason” and is a Fellow at the Jerusalem Institute for Market Studies. She is a Quarterly Review Contributing Editor. Ilana’s latest book is Into the Cannibal’s Pot: Lessons for America from Post-Apartheid South Africa. Her website is www.IlanaMercer.com. She blogs at www.barelyablog.com

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Dormy House

Posted on December 22, 2014 by leslie

EpiQR

Epicurean Expeditions with

Em Marshall-Luck

Dormy House

Willersley Hill, Broadway, WR12 7LF

Dormy House frontage-1

Situated just outside the quintessential-Cotswolds market town of Broadway and conveniently sited for walking the glorious countryside all around, Dormy House Hotel was formerly a farmhouse (it must have been a pretty impressive one!), dating from the seventeenth century. It retains many original features, including its wonderful golden-coloured stone (a prominent feature both inside and out); magnificent stone fireplaces – with open fires blazing away on this damp November evening – and oak panelling, with beautiful carved detail. There are three lounges to choose from, whither diners are ushered for pre-prandial drinks on elegant sofas and comfortable armchairs. Each room has its own decor and feel – one is more contemporary, with clean lines, bold colouring and contemporary furniture and mirrors; one features a stone wall as well as the great, original, main fireplace; and the one we settled in has more of a library feel with the wooden panelled walls painted a dark green-y blue. Plants – both live and pressed – are a predominant feature of this room, from pot plants to floral arrangements. Atmospheric lighting is provided by candles and lamps; hessian carpets are overlaid with rugs and – pleasingly – board games are also provided for guests to enjoy.

The staff at once impressed with their professional and polished but nevertheless very friendly manner (they were especially kind to baby Tristan). All were immaculately dressed and attentive – top marks here.

Our drinks, once ordered, soon arrived, along with delicately flavoured – and rather moreish by husband’s reaction – vegetable crisps. My kir royale was rich and crisp with a rich and sweet bite; my husband’s “dry sherry” was actually rather too sweet for him – more of a pale cream than a fino, but was refreshing nevertheless. The only source of irritation was the music – it wasn’t too loud but the pop-y beats intruded on what would otherwise have been a relaxed atmosphere. One fears that the choice of music may be to cater to the tastes of the generally young and trendy clientele (none of whom, we noted, was suitably attired, my husband being the only guest actually wearing a tie). One would really have hoped for classical music or light jazz or even easy listening in a country house hotel atmosphere – something a little more refined at least!

The hotel has two restaurants, both under head chef John Ingram: the formal Garden Room and the rather more relaxed Potting Shed. We were seated in the Garden Room – a reasonably large room overlooking the gardens, appropriately enough. This room also has a contemporary air, with modern floral fabric wallpaper – a bold but basic design in several shades of green; green velvet banquettes; simple wooden tables; modern grey chairs. There is no table linen, but simply a tealight candle in an ornate glass and fresh flowers on each table. Centrally placed is a vibrant display of flowers, while Art Deco-inspired wooden screening separates sections of the restaurant. The flooring is also wooden, and the only wall adornment are simple mirrors and slightly bizarre wall lights sporting hundreds of cream grassy spines.

Wine first – we chose a relatively dry Gewürztraminer. With its classic nose of lychee, very delicate flavour (lychee predominating here too), a foretaste of mint and bite of darkness – black pepper and even a slightly unusual hint of tar underlying the lychee and peach – it was quite extraordinary and really rather good.

Bread was brought almost at once, with a choice of three types – black olive, white semolina and granary rolls. All were excellent; served warm and clearly freshly baked, with superb flavours and full-flavoured butter, too.

We were not brought any amuse-bouches, which slightly surprised me. My husband rather uncharitably surmised that this might be because the clientele might not be aware of dining etiquettes and the proffering of an extra, unchosen course, might even engender an embarrassing confusion in them.

The starters were fairly small in terms of size, yet very good nevertheless: my smoked duck breast along with roast peaches was excellent, with an appropriately subtle smoked flavour, and Mr Marshall-Luck’s venison was delicately flavoured, albeit very peppery, and more of a Carpaccio than the pastrami denoted. The accompanying salad was an interesting combination of flavours and textures which complemented the venison well. My husband’s only regret was that there was not slightly more in the helping – he found it one of those servings that looks rather deserted and forlorn on the plate.

The main courses were also extremely good – the rabbit was wonderfully flavoured, and not at all ‘gamey’; a very light meat which was, nevertheless, immensely satisfying. It came served on a bed of spinach with fondant potatoes and roast carrots, all of which were equally excellent, the servings being well proportioned and no flavour overly intruding, although there was a definite and fitting accent on the meat. I’m afraid that my husband wasn’t allowed to enjoy the best bit of this, his meal – the filo pastry rabbit parcel (tender and flavoursome shreds of rabbit meat in a crisp and crunchy parcel), as I snaffled it as soon his plate arrived!

My pheasant was also superbly flavoured and featured a well-chosen variety of textures, with its complementing vegetables and also a rather interesting dried fruit puree (possibly strawberry). Improbable as it sounds, this worked excellently with the meat, bringing out the flavours and adding a new and unexpected dimension. As well as wedges of roast pheasant, there was also braised meat mixed with a sliced brassica which worked extremely well – very flavoursome and well-offset by the shredded, dark-tasting cabbage.

The final course of the meal also did not disappoint, as my husband’s apple soufflé was absolutely outstanding in every way. A deliciously light (feather-light, one might almost say) soufflé, infused with apple and with a pool of apple puree at its base, it came with warming and delicately flavoured cinnamon custard, of which there was enough to allow generous pourings into the basin containing the soufflé. A richly flavoured vanilla ice-cream complemented the dish beautifully.

I opted for the cheese course – one is offered a choice of five out of eight cheeses – I was particularly impressed with my Lord of London, Cremet and Smoked Cherry Wood, but all the cheeses (which, incidentally, were served with de-stringed celery, grapes and Fudges biscuits) were very individual, characterful and idiosyncratic – yet I would nonetheless have preferred a full cheese trolley. I indulged in a dessert wine with the cheese – a Noble Late Harvest. It was golden in colour and with a nose of intense mint and fat, juicy, honeyed sultanas. The flavour was deep and intensely-honeyed – but a darker honey, such as manuka. There was also spice – quite a bite of white pepper and even chilli alongside the searing sweetness of the sun-drenched raisins. Interesting blend of sweetness and spice.

We had tea and coffee sent up to our room afterwards – the tea was very good; the coffee reasonable (though not strong enough for my husband as usual), and a trio each of very sweet petit fours was a pleasant addition.

Our suite – The Snug – was a slight surprise after the rather traditional and gloriously old-fashioned entrance hall, being contemporary in style and decor, with a colour scheme of grey and cream – the sofa, bed, carpets, walls and curtains all following similar shades. The plus side of this meant a superb bathroom – with an utterly fabulous huge, deep metal bath which filled, it seemed, in almost seconds, and a monsoon shower. It also meant a Nespresso machine (much to Mr Marshall-Luck’s delight), whilst I was particularly impressed by the top-quality tea pyramid nets with a choice of Darjeeling, Jasmine and English Breakfast, and the rather nice crunchy oat biscuits, too. The downside was the large television screen in the sitting area (which had room enough for a sofa, chairs and desk) – but, again, these contraptions would no doubt be screamed for by clientele should they not be provided. And, actually, I must say that the i-pad thing with a button to press to request fresh milk was rather nifty…. I also rather liked the owl theme – on placemats; doorstops; little recycled owl ornaments, and suchlike (the owl also makes an appearance on the hotel’s logo). Although the three elements of the suite were slightly on the smallish side it was, nevertheless, fairly cosy and snug, especially when lit by the numerous lamps provided. Furthermore, it was all very comfortable, with everything provided one might wish for (including a generous number of shampoos, conditioners, body creams, slippers and bathgowns). It was a rare example of everything being pristine too – no exposed pipework or fraying carpets here – all clean and crisp – and a huge and deep bed to induce Morpheus….

Breakfast the next morning was back down in the Garden Room. A fine spread; and I was particularly impressed by the help-yourself-to-Bloody-Mary-or-Bucks-Fizz counter, and gladly indulged in the former. There were also buffet tables of cereals, juices (in little bottles to be taken back to the table), and cheeses and hams – these were excellent and constituted a good selection. Tea and coffee was brought to the table – nice tea, although my husband found the coffee a little on the weak side (catering for British rather than Continental tastes, unfortunately.) There was also a good choice of hot options which were served at the table (at which point in time my husband started muttering about chafing dishes and the fact that a gentleman shouldn’t be served at breakfast). The smoked salmon and scrambled eggs on brioche were wonderfully light (albeit still filling); and the full Dormy very satisfying: the quality of the sausage and bacon was excellent; the fried bread was indulgent without being over-greasy; and there were nicely-flavoured sautéed potatoes. The toast was also excellent; home-baked bread, evidently, and brought in an insulated bag which added a nice touch of rusticity.

After a hearty breakfast we retired to the spa, where there is a further eatery. The spa is an entire separate wing, and includes a lounge area and restaurant, the central feature of which is a circular fireplace, blazing away, with electrically operated circulater glass which descends to allow one to top up with wood – very clever. The seating here is on chaise longues, sofas and arm chairs with low tables, but there is also extensive decking area outside with wicker sofas and sun chairs and tables. The palate is greys, greens and blues. Downstairs one finds the pool area, which also encompasses a series of saunas and hammams, and a very smart shower that emulates Caribbean storms (great fun). There is also a gym, and a series of treatments rooms where I enjoyed a deep tissue back massage in which restful and relaxing surroundings the masseuse applied some stringent force to unknot congested and tense muscles, as requested. The spa restaurant serves sandwiches, drinks – specialising in both soft and alcoholic smoothies, and a salad buffet lunch, with a variety of different salads, a bake, lots of different nuts and seeds and condiments, and dessert. I took advantage of the buffet lunch and found it all very delicious as well as admirably healthy. The atmosphere in the spa restaurant / lounge is so relaxing that one could conceivably spend an entire day here, pottering between pool and lounge with a book and a long lazy lunch. We certainly found it immensely difficult to summon up the will to drag ourselves away from what had been an extremely enjoyable, hospitable and tranquil stay. With excellent food, kind and attentive staff and smart surroundings, one was able to forget the worldly pressures for an all-too-brief time.

Em Marshall-Luck

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Innocent Actor in Sovereign’s Snuff Film

Posted on December 21, 2014 by leslie
Herbert Spencer

Herbert Spencer, author of The Man versus the State

Innocent Actor in Sovereign’s Snuff Film

The Garner Affair – Ilana Mercer rests her case

Despite its elegant simplicity, the libertarian law is difficult to grasp. This I realized pursuant to the publication of “Eric Garner: 100% Innocent under Libertarian Law.” Some of the smartest, polymathic readers a writer could hope for were easily bullied into believing that by failing, first, to submit to the sovereign and question Him later—Eric Garner had undermined some sacred social compact.

A small-time peddler is killed-by-cop for selling single smokes on a New York street corner. Yet so befuddled were readers over the application of libertarian natural law to the Garner case that they insisted against all evidence that Garner’s was an understandable death by “civil disobedience.”

“I certainly would applaud those who resist truly immoral laws (like ordering someone to commit torture),” equivocated one writer, “but I am leery to suggest massive civil disobedience of petty regulations which may, in fact, just give rise to more oppressive government to ‘restore law and order.’”

Yes, the poor sod who dared to purchase and dispose of a couple of loose smokes had committed “massive civil disobedience.” Fearing the Sovereign’s vengeance, some of his fellow citizens felt obliged to calibrate just how daringly Garner should have deviated. Did he raise his voice excessively? Did he wave his arms too energetically? Yet these are all utilitarian, not principled, considerations.

Other readers beat on breast. They were hopelessly “torn” between my verdict—Garner was an innocent actor in the sovereign’s snuff film—and the proposition that Garner had an obligation to prostrate himself before the law to his overlord’s exacting specifications. By failing to do so, Garner had somehow invited his fate.

“Torn” is a word that better comports with images of Gloria Swanson or Marlene Dietrich in mid-swoon. What in bloody blue blazes is there to be “torn” over, the right of a man to stand on the curb with a few “loosies” in-hand, and stay alive?

In claiming that Garner was innocent in natural law, I was—or so I was informed—guilty of implying that he had no moral obligation to obey state-enacted positive law. Woe is me—and woe betides that rascal who counselled that “the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.”

Here’s the rub about the rudiments of libertarian law. While we all have ideas about what is moral and what’s immoral, libertarianism doesn’t! It has nothing whatsoever to say about morality per se. When libertarians say this or the other is wrong in libertarian law, they mean the following and the following only: unprovoked, an initiated aggression against B or his “legitimately owned” property – that’s it!

Libertarianism is thus concerned with the ethics of the use of force. This and this alone is the ambit of libertarian law.

The foundation of libertarianism is the non-aggression axiom. “The non-aggression axiom is the lynchpin of the philosophy of libertarianism,” explains Walter Block:

It states, simply, that it shall be legal for anyone to do anything he wants, provided only that he not initiate (or threaten) violence against the person or legitimately owned property of another. That is, in the free society, one has the right to manufacture, buy or sell any good or service at any mutually agreeable terms. Thus, there would be no victimless crime prohibitions, price controls, government regulation of the economy, etc.

The concept was unremarkable among 19th century classical liberals, who were Russell Kirk conservatives by any other name. Nowhere was the self-evident nature of natural law more evident than in the matter of Eric Garner. According to a “nationwide USA TODAY/Pew Research Center poll,” “Americans by nearly 3-1” agree the police officer was responsible for the death of Eric Garner.

What is immoral is not necessary illegal and vice versa. It is, arguably, immoral to legislate preferences in employment for certain employees, based on the concentration of melanin in their skin. Yet racial set-asides are perfectly legal in some precincts around the country. Conversely, it is utterly moral to sell an item that belongs to you, as Garner did. However, it was illegal for Garner to sell said items, even though he was in his moral right to trade.

Naturally, there are very many difficult moral issues over which natural-rights libertarians—as opposed to Benthamite, utilitarian libertarians—will argue. Abortion is an example. Based on the non-aggression law, some libertarians hold that abortion is legal in libertarian law, because a woman owns herself and may evict anything from her body. To punish her for exercising dominion over her own body, they claim, would be wrong—even if we think abortion immoral. Other natural-rights libertarians disagree with this position. They say that abortion is aggression against a living, non-aggressive, sentient being.

The debate is mired in morality. But it always returns to what should be legal or illegal in a truly free society: based on the non-aggression law, should we or should we not proceed with force—for that is what law is—against a woman for what she does to her body.

Law is force. Every time our overlords in DC legislate (unconstitutionally, for the most), they grant their gendarmes permission to aggress against an innocent citizen who’s been criminalized. Every new law and regulation licenses law enforcement to initiate mostly unjust, unprovoked force against an innocent, sovereign individual and/or his lawful property—an individual who has done harm to nobody.

Competition in a free society is not aggression. “Eric Garner was not violating anyone’s rights or harming anyone by standing on a street corner and peddling his wares.” The shopkeeper who sicced the cops on Garner had the right to pursue profits. He has no right to the profits he had before the competition arrived on the scene, not in a free-market.

Ultimately, libertarianism’s elegant minimalism as to what is lawful and what’s unlawful comports with the American idea of individual sovereignty, subject to limited, legitimate authority.

ILANA MERCER is a paleolibertarian writer based in the United States. She pens WND’s longest-standing column, “Return to Reason” and is a Fellow at the Jerusalem Institute for Market Studies. She is a Quarterly Review Contributing Editor. Ilana’s latest book is Into the Cannibal’s Pot: Lessons for America from Post-Apartheid South Africa. Her website is www.IlanaMercer.com. She blogs at www.barelyablog.com

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Eric Garner 100% Innocent under Libertarian Law

Posted on December 13, 2014 by leslie
Herbert Spencer, author of The Man versus the State

Herbert Spencer, author of The Man versus the State

Eric Garner 100% Innocent under Libertarian Law

Ilana Mercer laments another death by cop

Eric Garner was doing nothing naturally illicit when he was tackled and placed in the chokehold that killed him. It can be argued, if anything, that Garner was being entrepreneurial. He had been trading untaxed cigarettes in defiance of the state’s “slave patrol” and “Comrade” Andrew Cuomo’s “Cigarette Strike Force,” in the words of liberty’s Don Quixote, William Norman Grigg.

Had Garner’s naturally licit trade not been criminalized by today’s Tammany Hall, he’d still be alive.

“Garner,” wrote Grigg, “had suffered years of pointless and unnecessary harassment by the costumed predators employed by the New York Police Department,” when he declared, minutes before he was killed: “Every time you see me, you want to mess with me! I’m tired of it! It stops today!”

Noted Grigg: Eric Garner’s exasperated proclamation ‘It stops today!’ is cognate with ‘Don’t tread on me.’

The killing of Eric Garner was caught on camera and uploaded to YouTube. A grand jury, however, failed to see what was as plain as day to everyone else as well as to the city medical examiner. An autopsy revealed that the Garner death was a homicide, brought on, July 17, by “compression of the neck and chest, along with Garner’s positioning on the ground while being restrained by police.”

The footage also shows that the cops who jumped on Eric Garner with such enthusiasm were oblivious to his repeated pleas for air. Neither was an attempt at resuscitation commenced once they realized Garner was unresponsive. Instead, the cops panicked, barking orders at observers to disperse.

Garner’s manner of death conjures the manner in which Carol Anne Gotbaum met her untimely demise, in 2008. Gotbaum, a petite, 45-year-old slip of a woman—she weighed 105 pounds—was likely asphyxiated in Phoenix’s Sky Harbor airport by some corpulent cops. She had become distraught—not dangerous—after she was detained at the airport and not permitted to proceed to her destination. Unhinged, Gotbaum took off down the concourse hollering. She was quickly scrummed by meaty policemen, tackled to the ground, a colossal knee jabbed into her skinny spine. Gotbaum was then thrown in a holding cell, where she was shackled and chained to a bench. Minutes later Gotbaum was dead.

Her bruised body was autopsied. As inevitably as water spiraling down a plughole, the police were exonerated. Famous forensic pathologist Dr. Michael Baden said: “… the most likely cause of death has to do with asphyxia and could be a result of too much pressure on her chest when they were putting on the handcuffs and the shackles.”

Carol Anne Gotbaum was white. Cops are equal-opportunity offenders. Factoring into account the disproportionate representation of blacks among the population of law-breakers, cops aggress against whites and blacks more or less equally. In contemporary America, whites are less likely to riot than blacks.

Not to be conflated are the cases of Eric Garner and Michael Brown, of Ferguson fame. While the evidence of police wrongdoing in Garner’s death is incontrovertible, the reverse is true in Brown versus Officer Darren Wilson.

As the evidence shows, Michael Brown initiated aggression. He had aggressed against the store keeper and the policeman, who protected himself from this rushing mountain of flesh. In libertarian law, the individual may defend himself against initiated aggression. He may not initiate aggression against a non-aggressor.

Eric Garner, on the other hand, had aggressed against nobody. Whereas Brown was stealing cigarillos; Garner was selling his own cigarettes. The “law” he violated was one that violated Garner’s individual, natural right to dispose of his own property—“loosies”—at will.

In libertarian law, Garner is thus 100 percent innocent. For the good libertarian abides by the axiom of non-aggression. When enforcers of the shakedown syndicate came around to bust him, Garner raised his voice, gestured and turned to walk away from his harassers. He did not aggress against or hurt anyone of the goons.

To plagiarize myself in “Tasers ‘R’ Us,” “Liberty is a simple thing. It’s the unassailable right to shout, flail your arms, even verbally provoke a politician [or policeman] unmolested. Tyranny is when those small things can get you assaulted, incarcerated, injured, even killed.”

Again: Garner had obeyed the libertarian, natural law absolutely. He was trading peacefully. In the same spirit, he turned to walk away from a confrontation. Befitting this pacific pattern, Garner had broken up a street fight prior to his murder.

The government has a monopoly over making and enforcing law— it decides what is legal and what isn’t. Thus it behooves thinking people to question the monopolist and his laws. After all, cautioned the great Southern constitutional scholar James McClellan, “What is legally just, may not be what is naturally just.” “Statutory man-made law” is not necessarily just law.

Unlike the positive law, which is state-created, natural law in not enacted. Rather, it is a higher law—a system of ethics—knowable through reason, revelation and experience. “By natural law,” propounded McClellan in “Liberty, Order, And Justice,” “we mean those principles which are inherent in man’s nature as a rational, moral, and social being, and which cannot be casually ignored.”

Eric Garner was on “public” property. Had he been trespassing on private property, the proprietor would have been in his right to remove him. However, Garner was not violating anyone’s rights or harming anyone by standing on a street corner and peddling his wares—that is unless the malevolent competition which sicced the cops on him has a property right in their prior profits. They don’t.

ILANA MERCER is a paleolibertarian writer based in the United States. She pens WND’s longest-standing column, “Return to Reason” and is a Fellow at the Jerusalem Institute for Market Studies. She is a Quarterly Review Contributing Editor. Ilana’s latest book is Into the Cannibal’s Pot: Lessons for America from Post-Apartheid South Africa. Her website is www.IlanaMercer.com. She blogs at www.barelyablog.com

 

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Beyond Multiculturalism

Posted on December 9, 2014 by leslie

Australian citizens and flag

Beyond Multiculturalism

John Press proposes a new paradigm

CULTURISM AND CULTURISTS

‘Culturism’ is the opposite of multiculturalism. Whereas multiculturalists believe we should celebrate our national diversity, culturists, (those who advocate culturism), believe that we should seek unity by assimilating citizens into our traditional majority culture.

Multiculturalists do not believe America has a traditional majority culture. For them, Muslim history is just as American as European history. Furthermore, if culturists assert that America is not a Muslim nation, multiculturalists call them ‘racist.’ Culturists believe America has a unique traditional culture, as well as a right to protect and promote it.

As such, using the word ‘culturism,’ (positing an alternative to multiculturalism), and identifying oneself as a ‘culturist’ are political acts. Culturists hope that these words will spread, counter multiculturalists’ abuse of the epitaph ‘racist,’ and reframe political debate within the West. Continue reading →

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Fight the Classroom Idiocracy with the Literary Canon

Posted on December 6, 2014 by leslie

book_for_book_lovers_by_mabelpines13-d5aa50t

Fight the Classroom Idiocracy with the Literary Canon

Ilana Mercer educates her masters

The fraught relationship between state and society carries over into classroom and town hall. Something of a commonplace in police state USA is the scene in which a citizen is arrested for speaking his mind to a public official, pedagogue or politician.

Our story begins with a dad, William Baer, a lawyer, I believe, who resides in New Hampshire, the state whose motto is “Live Free or Die.” For speaking out of turn at a school board meeting, Baer was cuffed and carted out of a forum of educrats and obedient parents, herded together at the Gilford high school. An arrest and a charge of disorderly conduct followed—Baer, after all, had exceeded the talk time allotted to him.

“It was basically, you make a statement, say what you want and sit down,” the dad told a local television station. “‘Sit down and shut up’ … [is] not how you interact with adults.”

In the background to the online YouTube clip of the event one can hear the dulcet voice of a female emcee, delighting in the petty abuse of power over a powerless parent.

Mr. Baer was protesting a novel which was required reading in his 14-year-old daughter’s English class: “Nineteen Minutes” by home girl Jodi Picoult. (One of Australia’s finest writers, also the copy editor of Into-the-Cannibals-Pot-Lessons-for-America-from-Post-Apartheid-South-Africa, this writer’s last book, relates that every time he gets on a train or a bus, there seems to be some female or three reading a Jodi P. “masterpiece.”).

Easily more offensive than the salacious sex scene on page 313 of Picoult’s novel is the rotten writing throughout:

“‘Relax,’ Matt murmured, and then he sank his teeth into her shoulder. He pinned her hands over her head and ground his hips against hers. She could feel his erection, hot against her stomach. ”

… She couldn’t remember ever feeling so heavy, as if her heart were beating between her legs. She clawed at Matt’s back to bring him closer. “‘Yeah,’ he groaned, and he pushed her thighs apart. And then suddenly Matt was inside her, pumping so hard that she scooted backward on the carpet, burning the backs of her legs.

… (H)e clamped his hand over her mouth and drove harder and harder until Josie felt him come.

“Semen, sticky and hot, pooled on the carpet beneath her.”

The book’s titillating topics—bullying, school shootings, teen sex and pregnancy—verge on the political. Inculcating kids early on with these cumbersome, constricted constructs serves to stunt young minds. The young reader is intellectually disemboweled, as he is steered into thinking along certain narrow, politically pleasing lines.

Look, the value each one of us places on consumer goods and cultural products in the marketplace is subjective. This Subjective Theory of Value, so central to the excellent Austrian School of Economics (my own school of thought), however, should not be confused with the objective standards that determine the quality of a cultural product.

You might prefer to purchase one of Toni Morrison’s God-awful tomes, but the objective fact is that she’s no match for Shakespeare and never will be. Likewise, based on complexity, skill, mastery and intricacy—it is immutably true that B.B. King is no match for Johann Sebastian Bach.

Irrespective of popular preference, there are objective, universal criteria that make some cultural products superior to others.

The ignoramuses present at the school board meeting are beyond help. Not so the fine Mr. Baer’s daughter.

Schools will puff their reading lists with substandard titles of mass appeal. Parents need not do the same. This list is for William Baer—and all parents who wish to feed young minds with richly textured, inspiring, gripping, superbly-written works that will forever after remain unmatched*:

  • “Ivanhoe” by Sir Walter Scott
  • “The Count of Monte Cristo” by Alexandre Dumas
  • “Robinson Crusoe” by Daniel Defoe
  • “Treasure Island” by Robert Louis Stevenson
  • “Arabian Nights” by many Arabic geniuses
  • “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens
  • “David Copperfield” by Charles Dickens
  • “Oliver Twist” by the same genius
  • “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” by Mark Twain
  • “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” by Mark Twain
  • “Tom’s Midnight Garden” by Philippa Pearce
  • “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” by C. S. Lewis
  • “The Last of the Mohicans” by James Fenimore Cooper
  • “Les Misérables” by Victor Hugo
  • “Around the World in Eighty Days” by Jules Verne
  • “The Black Stallion” by Walter Farley
  • “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Brontë
  • “Jane Eyre” by Charlotte Brontë
  • “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen
  • “Sense and Sensibility” by Jane Austen
  • “Mansfield Park” (ditto)
  • “Lord of the Flies” by William Golding
  • “Middlemarch” by George Eliot
  • “Silas Marner” by George Eliot
  • “Daniel Deronda” by George Eliot
  • “How Green Was My Valley” by Richard Llewellyn
  • “The Good Earth” by Pearl Buck
  • “1984,” by George Orwell
  • “Animal Farm” by George Orwell

To spice things up for the precocious young reader, do add Edgar Allan Poe, Roald Dahl’s “Kiss Kiss” and “The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole.”

Without the literary canon, young minds are doomed to become as dim and sclerotic as those of the educators who assign them the second rate reading material aforementioned.

The literary canon is the best antidote to the educational Idiocracy.

*EDITOR’S NOTE: Ilana Mercer has asked me to add the complete works of Balzac, Flaubert, Melville, Shakespeare and Tolstoy to this edifying list

ILANA MERCER is a paleolibertarian writer based in the United States. She pens WND’s longest-standing column, “Return to Reason” and is a Fellow at the Jerusalem Institute for Market Studies. She is a Quarterly Review Contributing Editor. Ilana’s latest book is Into the Cannibal’s Pot: Lessons for America from Post-Apartheid South Africa. Her website is www.IlanaMercer.com. She blogs at www.barelyablog.com

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Two poems by Marcus Bales

Posted on December 5, 2014 by leslie

mid-life crisis

SUDDENLY

Suddenly the kids, the car,

the house, the spouse, the local bar,

the work, have made you what you are.

What doesn’t chill you makes you fonder.

 –

Should you stay or should you go?

The thrill you’re looking for, you know,

could be right here at home, although

What doesn’t thrill you makes you wander.

–

If, avoiding common truth,

you dye your hair and act uncouth,

will you find your misplaced youth —

really, will you if you’re blonder?

 –

It doesn’t matter if you’re strong

or if you sing a pretty song,

something, and it won’t be long,

will come to kill you, here or yonder.

–

You’re human in the human fray,

and choose between the shades of grey.

No matter if you go or stay

 –

what might fulfil you makes you ponder.

……………………………..

……………….

Girl Reading Charles_Edward_Perugini_ak1

VILLANELLE: I LIKE YOU THE BEST

Of all my readers I like you the best.

You’re sexily well-read, and very smart —

Oh, you’re the one; the rest are just the rest.

–

Though most of them will think I speak in jest,

It’s you, you know, who’s read into my heart:

Of all my readers I like you the best.

–

I’m feeling better now that I’ve confessed

That it’s for you I struggle with my art.

You are the one — the rest are just the rest.

–

I see by your reaction you had guessed

I liked you more, and liked you from the start;

Of all my readers, I like you the best.

–

You get me — and I like how you’re impressed

That I know Horace comes before Descartes;

Ah, you’re the one. The rest are just the rest.

–

I like you very much — I’d be distressed

At anything that kept us two apart.

Of all my readers I like you the best;

Yes, you’re the one: the rest are just the rest.

Marcus Bales lives and works in Cleveland, Ohio

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Ferguson: thankful for the Founding Fathers’ legal legacy

Posted on November 30, 2014 by leslie

Golden Lady Justice, Bruges, Belgium

Ferguson: thankful for the Founding Fathers’ legal legacy

The American race riots – Ilana Mercer gets real

Grand-jury deliberations were conducted behind closed doors. The decision was announced at night. It was too dark. Jurors were given too much information to absorb. The St. Louis County prosecuting attorney was not sufficiently involved in the proceedings. The latter, Bob McCulloch, was too “cold” in sharing the hard facts of the case with the public. His remarks were excessively long or redundant all. The police were too passive in their response to the pillage that followed the unpopular decision.

These are a few of the complaints voiced by the “Racism Industrial Complex (RIC)” against a grand-jury decision in the shooting death of Michael Brown, in Ferguson, Missouri. A quorum of ordinary Americans has determined that Officer Darren Wilson was not “the initial aggressor,” that the officer “acted in self-defense”; that he “was authorized to use deadly force,” in a situation in which he found himself being punched—and then bull-rushed by a demonic-looking mountain of flesh, Michael Brown.

Brown’s interactions with Officer Wilson would have been fueled by a consciousness of guilt which likely amplified the young man’s aggression. For prior to being shot, a surveillance video had surfaced of Brown roughing up and robbing a shopkeeper. The “Big Kid” was no gentle giant; he was a brute. At the time of their fateful encounter, Officer Wilson suspected Brown of robbing a convenience store.

“The Racism Industrial Complex (RIC),” explains the term’s originator Jack Kerwick, “include the majority of journalists and commentators in corporate media; most academics in the liberal arts and humanities departments of America’s colleges and universities; entertainers; and politicians. In concert, they labor fast and furiously to ensconce within the American consciousness the idea that blacks and other racial minorities are perpetual victims of ‘white racism.’”

Commensurate with the “RIC” narrative, Michael Brown’s blackness is mentioned always in mitigation; Wilson’s whiteness as an aggravating condition.

Right away, the governor of Missouri, Jay Nixon, promised “a vigorous prosecution.” Feeling the heat from the head honchoes of the “Racism Industrial Complex” (Attorney General Eric Holder and President Barack Obama), Nixon had sought to indict the white officer as a gesture to the Brown family. It is alleged, moreover, that Missouri’s governor and the DC “RIC” are behind the meek response to the November riots, underway across the country.

I hate to say it, but these riots are an object lesson as to what transpires in certain chaotic communities when the police practice peaceful resistance.

Let’s face it: had St. Louis County Prosecuting Attorney Bob McCulloch, a Democrat, opted for an open, probable-cause hearing before a judge, as opposed to convening a grand jury, the “Racism Industrial Complex”—forced to face a decision not to its liking—would be decrying the despotism of this single judge. They’d be calling for a jury of the people’s representatives, as bequeathed by the Founding Fathers, in the 5th Amendment of the Bill of Rights. The grand jury institution, as legal analyst Paul Callan has explained, “was actually created by the Founders to provide a wall of citizen protection against overzealous prosecutors.”

Had the decision been revealed in the AM, the RIC herd would have argued for a night-time reveal.

Had Mr. McCulloch meddled with the jury, he’d still be accused of rigging the outcome against Brown.

Had McCulloch hand-picked the evidence for the grand jury, instead of providing the 12 jurors with access to all of it—a “document dump,” brayed Big Media—he’d have been accused of concealing information.

Had the cops moved to curtail the crowds from “venting” over “legitimate issues,” caused by “the legacy of racial discrimination”—they’d have been convicted of police brutality.

As to the affective dimension, McCulloch’s alleged frigid demeanor: a silent majority whose “culture” is being crowded out still finds such WASPY mannerisms comforting and familiar; a sign of professionalism, dignity, decorum and rationality. Profoundly alien and disturbing was the wretched excesses of Michael Brown’s mother (Lesley McSpadden) and her new husband (Louis Head)—both of whom have had brushes with the law—howling “Burn This Bitch Down.”

Regrettably, at the time of the shooting, this libertarian column had expressed the opinion that Brown was the victim of murder-by-cop http://www.ilanamercer.com/phprunner/public_article_list_view.php?editid1=783. I was wrong. Far from the militarized mob, a remarkable process has unfolded in Ferguson. Praise for it belongs to Prosecuting Attorney Bob McCulloch and a grand jury selected by a judge, in May of 2014, long before the shooting occurred.

McCulloch’s remarks were impressive. They revealed the exhaustive scope of the search for truth undertaken by a grand jury that was left to its own devices. Since the text of the statement has not been disseminated, I’ve summarized some of it for interested Americans. Particularly brilliant is the manner in which McCulloch co-opted the DC “RIC” in support of the rule of law, in Ferguson, Missouri:

St. Louis county police conducted an extensive investigation at the crime scene together with agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, at the direction of Attorney General Eric Holder. Together they sought out witnesses and gathered additional information over a period of three months, beginning on the day of the shooting death of Michael Brown. Fully aware of the growing concerns in parts of the community that the investigation and review of the death would not be full and fair, St. Louis County Prosecuting Attorney Bob McCulloch decided to hand over to a grand jury all physical evidence related to the case, all individuals claiming to have witnessed any aspect of the events and any and all related matters. The grand jury comprised of 12 members of the community.

Federal investigators worked closely with local law enforcement, with the St. Louis county police and persecutor and Attorney General Holder and his department vowing to follow where the evidence led. These federal investigators shared information with St. Louis county investigator and vice versa. In addition, the Department of Justice conducted its own investigation and performed its own autopsy. Yet another autopsy was carried out by the Brown family and all information was shared and collated. All testimony before the grand jury was immediate forwarded to the DOJ. Eyewitness accounts were compared with the physical evidence. Many witnesses contradicted their own statements and the physical evidence.

As an example of witness testimony that contradicted the physical evidence McCulloch offered numerous statements that claimed to have seen Officer Wilson stand above Michael Brown and fire many rounds into his back. Others claimed that Officer Wilson shot Mr. Brown in the back as he was running away. Once the autopsy was released showing that the deceased did not sustain injuries to his back, statements to that effect were retracted. Others admitted they had, in fact, not witnessed the shooting.

All statements were recorded and presented to the grand jury before the autopsy results were released. There was no “document dump,” as some media claimed. Two of Bob McCulloch’s assistants presented the information to the jury in an organized, systematic manner. All jurors heard every word of testimony and examined every item of evidence presented. McCulloch described a proactive and engaged group working since August 9th to do their due diligence. In the course of 25 days, the jury dissected over 70 hours of testimony and listened to 60 witnesses. They heard from three medical examiners and many other DNA and forensic experts. They examined hundreds of photographs and looked at various pieces of physical evidence. They were instructed in the law and presented with five possible indictments. Their burden was to determine, based on all the evidence, if probable cause existed to determine that a crime was committed and Daren Wilson committed that crime. There is no question that Officer Wilson caused the death of Michael Brown by shooting him. However the law authorizes an officer of the law, and all people, to use deadly force to defend themselves in certain situations. The grand jury considered whether Officer Wilson was the initial aggressor, or whether he was authorized to use deadly force in the situation and acted in self-defense.

They were the only people who examined every piece of evidence and heard every witness. They debated among themselves. After an exhaustive review of the evidence the grand jury deliberated further over two days to arrive at their final decision. And it is that no probable cause exists to file any charges against Officer Darren Wilson. They returned a “No True” bill on each of the five indictments. All the evidence, witness statements included, was made public.

Not even the unethical, ongoing, subversive interventions from the attorney general of black America and the president of black America, on the side of the Brown family, swayed a grand jury guided by the search for truth. For fact-finding is the essence of the law—the law is not an abstract idea of imaged social justice that exists in the arid minds of the perpetually aggrieved.

Unfortunately, “the Racism Industrial Complex” (RIC), also sees law as a weapon, to be co-opted to its ends.

We should give thanks for a prosecuting attorney and grand jury who grasped the evidently archaic idea of ordered liberty. This is a good outcome for American justice.

ILANA MERCER is a paleolibertarian writer based in the United States. She pens WND’s longest-standing column, “Return to Reason” and is a Fellow at the Jerusalem Institute for Market Studies. She is a Quarterly Review Contributing Editor. Ilana’s latest book is Into the Cannibal’s Pot: Lessons for America from Post-Apartheid South Africa. Her website is www.IlanaMercer.com. She blogs at www.barelyablog.com

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ENDNOTES – these he has loved

Posted on November 30, 2014 by leslie
Mussorgsky, by Ilya Repin

Mussorgsky, by Ilya Repin

ENDNOTES – these he has loved

Stuart Millson presents a seasonal selection

A few favourite recordings… a very personal view, and an end-of-year indulgence

I have always found that the month of December, and in particular, the Christmas holiday, is a good time to settle down and listen to old favourites from my CD and vinyl collection; to retrieve recordings which were bought – and played – with great enthusiasm in the 1990s and early-2000s (Nielsen overtures, a Khachaturian symphony, film music by Georges Auric, Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition) and then put back upon the shelves – to be superseded by the next, fresh batch of purchases and review copies. So here is a selection of well-loved items from my collection; personal, indispensable favourites which I would like to share with readers and recommend – either as great interpretations, or as unusual or even eccentric versions which convey (to quote the title of an old Radio 4 programme about music) “the tingle factor”.

To begin with – a most unusual version of Mussorgsky’s evergreen, much-arranged, endlessly-recorded Pictures at an Exhibition. At the 2004 Proms, Leonard Slatkin (the then Chief Conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra – and I was there watching and listening) presented the work, but far away indeed from the familiar terrain of the Ravel orchestration. The wander through the gallery began, not with the famous noble trumpet announcement, but with a bewildering and surreal playing of the theme on percussion – the whole orchestra taking the idea up soon after. The orchestrator was one Byrwec Ellison (born 1957), leader of the Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra, and an unusual and unexpected “shaper” of this familiar music. Once out of Ellison’s part of the gallery, we move through a compelling variety of realisations, to the immense finale – The Great Gate of Kiev (a musical portrait of a piece of architecture which was never built, except in music). Nothing prepared me for what I heard in the Royal Albert Hall that night; and the Warner Classics disc (2564 61954-2), taken from the Radio 3 broadcast, still makes me take a deep breath – for “The Great Gate” comes slowly into view through a dark-sounding, deep-voiced male chorus intoning an ancient Russian chant, and then shines out gloriously through clarion brass, shimmering cymbal clashes, and the galvanising, stunning entry of the Royal Albert Hall organ. “The Great Gate” came courtesy of Douglas Gamley, a composer of music for the Hammer Horror film series, and a man clearly capable of the highest, most dramatic expressions of musical impact and drama. The applause from those 2004 prommers certainly adds to the satisfaction that you will find when listening to this remarkable disc.

More Russian romanticism, this time from the Swedish label BIS – and their sublime Rachmaninov cycle, which reaches (at least, for me) a high-point in the form of the Royal Scottish National Orchestra reading of Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony (BIS-CD-1279). Their conductor here is Owain Arwel Hughes CBE, an experienced and passionate advocate of this repertoire, who summons the spirit of the composer in every moment and movement: the melancholy, yearning opening, the hurtling, glittering cascade of notes and vivid, energetic action across the strings in the second movement (evoking from my memory a night-trip by train, many years ago, with a bright sky of stars visible from the carriage). Then comes the famous Adagio, and the elemental barrage of orchestral affirmation at the end – in which Arwel Hughes almost seems to hold one of the last great phrases in mid-air – in suspension – as if to prolong and enhance the grandeur and glory of the finale for just one or two more moments. By any standards, this is an exciting and deeply-felt interpretation.

From the large-scale, to the introspective, I love the delicacy and mysterious tones of Debussy’s chamber works, in particular, his Sonata for Flute, Viola and Harp in three movements, and Cello Sonata (two movements) written at the height of the Great War – works most emphatically of the early 20th century; early, moderate modernism, with the composer’s tenderness felt throughout. Debussy wrote of these works, that they were “… not so much for myself but to give proof, however small it may be, that even if there were thirty million Boches, French thought will not be destroyed.” The Athena Ensemble brings great understanding and classical elegance to these enigmatic creations on a Chandos CD from the mid-1980s – the CD booklet noting the comments of the musicologist Edward Lockspeiser, who viewed the Flute, Viola and Harp sonata as in fact a “triptych of single conception.”

In the days before CDs, I enjoyed the chamber works of Debussy on a vinyl record which I purchased in France in 1981 – the record bearing the label “Musicdisc – Richesse Classique” (catalogue number MU 209). It would take a serious record collector a long time to find this rare item, but I have seldom heard either the sonatas, or the String Quartet (the main item), played so authentically – although the recording quality is not of the highest standard, and is even a little constricted and “crackly”. Fortunately, the wording on the record sleeve was translated into English, although again, not terribly well! However, the writer (unnamed) seems to summarise the record and the repertoire…

“As to the sonatas, which writing extremely refined seems to seal an inner mystery, they constitute the musical will and testament of Debussy. The first-rate interpretation in the most trifling lights and shades is of performers as famous as Bernard Galais and Claude Helffer, specialists of the twentieth century music.”

From the impressionism and warmth of Debussy, to the lands of Northern Lights, legendary warriors and mythical swans: a 1997 recording on the Finlandia label of well-known works by Sibelius, conducted by Sir Andrew Davis – not with his customary band, the BBC Symphony Orchestra, but with the accompaniment of the clear, clean, lithe-sounding Royal Stockholm Philharmonic.

Orchestral mists summon up the spirit of En Saga, The Swan of Tuonela, and the players give their national and emotional-sounding best in the heroic Finlandia, and the Op. 112, Tapiola. But best of all on the collection is the lonely seascape, The Oceanides, a commission from the Norfolk Music Festival in America, at which the composer appeared and conducted on the 4th July 1914. Originally entitled Rondo of the Waves, The Oceanides is the only tone-poem by the composer not to refer explicitly to a Finnish or Scandinavian myth, but in its nine minutes builds to a great tumult every bit as exciting as En Saga. And so perfectly does it encapsulate the sense of grey seas, skies and supernatural beings materialising and dematerialising in the play of the waves (the Oceanides are sea-nymphs and mermaids), that the work almost seems to bring on a sense of loss in the heart of the listener, when the score darkly ebbs away into the orchestra’s deeper registers, slowly drawing to its close.

In the 1970s, The Oceanides appeared on a classic and vintage BBC film about the life-cycle of the Atlantic salmon, presented by the angler and naturalist Hugh Falkus. Sibelius’s music was used in the final elegiac moments, as the life of the ocean-going salmon ends in the head-waters of the river of its birth. The film – deeply absorbing and beautifully shot – is still available on specialist productions, and I am sure that anyone, including the non-countryman, would find it stimulating and moving, not least because of its use of Sibelius.

Nature-worship formed a very important part of the character of Gustav Mahler (1860-1911), and alongside his Third and Fourth symphonies, his large-scale work for orchestra and two soloists, Das Lied von der Erde (a symphony in all but name, perhaps) represents themes of man and mortality, farewell and withdrawal, but also the exuberance of youth. All of these ideas flower within a heady, regenerative setting of Nature: the sections of the work bearing names such as: Drinking Song of Earth’s Sorrows, The Lonely Man in Autumn, The Drunkard in Spring etc.

Mahler set Chinese poetic texts, taken from a collection of by Hans Bethge, known as The Chinese Flute – although the atmosphere of ancient gardens in the Orient and Chinese music occasionally appears and floats across a typically Austro-German symphonic landscape, a character brought out by the rasping, “dark-brown” brass of the Dresden Staatskapelle on Deutsche Grammophon (DG 453 437-2), under the brilliant Italian conductor, Giuseppe Sinopoli (known in London during his 1980s’ tenure with the Philharmonia). Of all my Mahler collection, Das Lied comes – it seems to me – closer and closer to the meaning of life.

On the subject of Mahler, the English conductor Frank Shipway died earlier this year – a figure that appeared to be something of an “outsider” in British musical life, despite having many great gifts as a conductor, and an appetite for large-scale works – Berlioz, Mahler, Shostakovich. I saw Shipway conduct on two occasions: once at a Sunday night concert of Russian romantic repertoire at the Churchill Theatre, Bromley (in about 1980), and at the Royal Festival Hall in 1984, at the helm of his half-professional, half-amateur London orchestra, the Forest Philharmonic, still based in Walthamstow. In the obituaries which appeared, it seems that the conductor’s maverick manner and his Karajan-like “authoritarianism” provoked mixed feelings from musicians. Sir Colin Davis, for example, was unsure about engaging him at the Royal Opera House, because of an almost 19th-century demeanour (Shipway was said to sweep in like a figure from another age); but for international maestro Lorin Maazel, the Englishman had great potential. He was invited to the U.S., to Maazel’s world-renowned Cleveland Orchestra, and critics reported that: “The night belonged to Shipway”.

However, despite these successes, only a few recordings seem to survive of Shipway’s work, none greater perhaps than a splendid account of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony, recorded in Watford, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (available on TRP 096). To many, this powerfully-realised rendition (the RPO delivering all the sturm und drang associated with Mahler) was a version that came out of the blue – a surprise to many writers and observers. On the RPO’s own label, it remains a unique and treasured part of my Austro-German collection – and I recommend it to anyone who thrills to the great “darkness-to-light journey” of this immense symphonic statement by Mahler – the absolute romantic.

Finally, no Christmas edition of a magazine’s music section is complete without a mention of that central seasonal tradition – Handel’s Messiah. Today, of course, we delight in so many period-instrument renditions: a lighter, darting, more astringent baroque sound, that is so fashionable with audiences. But it is worth remembering the performance style of the 1950s and ‘60s, the years of Sargent and Boult. Decca’s 1961 extracts from Messiah, with the London Symphony Orchestra and Chorus conducted by Sir Adrian Boult (433 637-2) – especially in the final, Worthy is the Lamb – seems to set the heavens ringing, with a solid, well-enunciated, half-operatic, half-English cathedral style of choral singing that would swallow most baroque performances. It is almost as if The Dream of Gerontius has found its way into Messiah, such is the majesty and grandeur of Sir Adrian’s reading. This is a stirring, vintage recording – and a CD which should provide much enjoyment for this season of the year.

STUART MILLSON is QR’s classical music critic

 

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Twenty Years After

Posted on November 26, 2014 by leslie

Antonín_Dvořák

Twenty Years After

Leslie Jones joins a birthday party

The Henschel Quartet with Martino Tirimo, a recital given at St John’s Smith Square on Tuesday 11th November 2014 and broadcast live on Radio 3. Programme; Beethoven String Quartet no 5 in A major, op. 18, no 5: Dvořák, Quartet no 12 in F major, op 96, B, 179 (“American”): Brahms Piano Quintet in F minor, op. 34

The Henschel Quartet are Christoph Henschel, Daniel Bell (violins), Monika Henschel (viola) and Mathias Beyer-Karlshøj (cello)

The Beethoven String Quartet in A major is an early work composed when Beethoven was only thirty. It was something of a surprising choice to open the 20th anniversary concert of this inimitable ensemble. Beethoven at this juncture had not yet discovered his distinctive voice and the composition is indebted to his mentors Haydn and Mozart, especially the latter. Indeed, several of Mozart’s ideas from his own Quartet in A major are incorporated here.

That said there is some satisfyingly intricate material for the lead violin, in this instance Christoph Henschel, especially in the first movement and some compelling exchanges between the violins, viola and cello (including a sort of hurdy-gurdy effect) as they alternately take up the main theme. The performers took full advantage of these opportunities to excel. Yet as Maestro Tirimo observed during the interval on Radio 3, the Henschels are nothing if not a serious, self-disciplined outfit – they are not interested in easily earned applause.

The overall mood of this short piece is upbeat but it becomes decidedly more introspective and pensive in the third movement. There are subtle anticipations here of the lacerating sadness of some of the master’s late chamber music, notably in the String Quartet in A minor, op.132 (“A convalescent’s sacred song of thanks to the Godhead, in the Lydian mode”). The playing throughout was faultless and despite the work’s disconcertingly abrupt end, the performance received warm applause from the attentive audience in this atmospheric venue.

The Henschels obviously took inordinate care to balance this programme. Given that the distinguished pianist Martino Tirimo had elected to perform the epic Brahms Quintet, with its echoes of Brahms’ Piano Concertos, the Henschels second offering, Dvořák’s Quartet in F minor, constituted a welcome contrast. It is a much calmer journey than Brahms’ intense and emotionally exhausting expedition. “It’s lighter”, as Monika Henschel tersely put it.

Indeed, Dvořák’s evergreen Quartet has in places a lilting quality somewhat reminiscent of Mendelssohn’s stirring Scottish Symphony. As in the New World Symphony, Native American, African American and Bohemian colours are vividly evoked, as Martin Handley pointed out in his informative Radio 3 commentary.

Several wistful themes grace this plangent work, completed while Dvořák was staying with the Czech community of Spillville, Iowa, in the summer of 1893. They bespeak his heartfelt nostalgia for his native land. For despite the ample opportunities in New York for such supposedly typical Czech activities as pigeon fancying, train spotting and boozing (the composer was Director of the National Conservatory of Music there from1892-1895) he remained homesick.

“I am satisfied, thank God”, Antonin Dvořák reportedly remarked, on finishing this work. We humbly concur. It has always been a personal favourite.

Concerning Martino Tirimo’s performance in the Brahms Piano Quintet, this versatile pianist who excels across the piano repertoire clearly has a remarkable rapport with the Henschels.

I conclude with a quote from Johannes Brahms himself, “If there is anyone else whom I have not insulted, I beg his [or her] pardon”.

©

LESLIE JONES is the Editor of QR

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