calarco's Reviews (760)

Here Eric Hoffer examines the nature of "mass movements," specifically arguing that while all movements are not identical, there are universal elements that extend over phenomena of this nature. While Hoffer does make some interesting points, ultimately "The True Believer" fails to make any truly cohesive arguments.

First off, while the entire work focuses on "mass movements," Hoffer fails to succinctly define what exactly this term means. Hoffer does explain how they are perpetuated; "A movement is pioneered by men of words, materialized by fanatics and consolidated by men of action" (147). He identifies examples of motivations, such as political, national, religious, social, etc. However, he fails to explain what encompasses the parameters of a "mass movement." Must one attain a societal level of influence to be a movement? How many must be involved for a movement to be considered mass? Could a mass movement have either a shared ideology or a common goal, or do one of these motivations suffice?

It is likely Hoffer is purposefully nebulous to better push for mass movements' over-arching universality, but by setting aside the contextual intentionality behind specific movements, his cherry-picked examples fail to support the bold claims of his thesis. The two examples Hoffer most cites are the movements of Fascism and Communism. Common elements he finds between the two are the denunciation of the present for a more idealized future, the desire of individuals to join something larger than themselves that absolves them of their personal failures, the prioritization of faith in the movement over individual people, motivation from hate of the "other," etc. Rather than finding comprehensive truths, I feel Hoffer has pointed out the commonalities of authoritarian regimes, or cults to a lesser extent.

As he does not properly explore how these shared traits could apply to positive mass movements, such as abolition, women's suffrage, or the Civil Rights Movement. In fact, he is quite dismissive of arguments for equality stating, "The passion for equality is partly a passion for anonymity... They want to eliminate free competition and the ruthless testing to which the individual is continually subjected in a free society" (33). This is a patronizing dismissal that could only come from someone who has not had their civil rights infringed upon, or had their children sold away never to be seen again. Just sayin'.

Another problem lies in Hoffer's assessment that conservatism is a belief rooted in maintaining the present. As he argues that mass movements denounce the present, his political spectrum ranges from the conservative preserving the present to the radical seeking change for the future. This does not hold up today, as much of modern conservatism is rooted in nostalgia for the past (i.e., the Tea Party movement, Make America Great Again, etc.), rather than preserving the current status quo. As he posits mass movements to be the antithesis of individualism, this assessment also eerily reflects FBI propaganda denouncing the Civil Rights movement as the gateway to Communism. This is why clearly defining the components of an argument matters. That said, this is not Hoffer's only miss-characterization.

In "Part 2" where Hoffer denotes the demographics of people likely to take part in mass movements, he comes up with some pretty nonsensical categories. These include: "misfits," "the inordinately selfish," "minorities," "the bored," and "sinners." Professionals from the social sciences to the humanities love to categorize people, but rather than helping to bolster his reasoning, these categories are more reflective of Hoffer's personal worldview than anything else.

Lastly, perhaps the worst part of Hoffer's argument, is his insistence that Western culture and religion are civilizing agents juxtaposed to the rest of the primitive world. He claims that "Foreign influence seems to be the prevailing factor in the process of social renascence" (166), which is true in that cultural exchanges can lead to innovative ideas and may impact both parties involved. However, in his examples he prioritizes the achievements and influences of Western ideology.

This arrogance comes to an apex when Hoffer asks, "One wonders whether India's capacity to produce Gandhi or Nehru is due less to rare elements in Indian culture than to the long presence of the British Raj" (166). I find it hard to believe Gandhi was getting inspiration for his non-violent protests from an inherently violent form of British colonialism, over Indian Buddhism. Again, just sayin'.

Overall, I found this work to be more reflective of Hoffer's personal worldview and ego, rather than offering new insights into the nature of "mass movements," whatever those are anyway. This book will leave you with more perplexing questions than thoughtfully fleshed-out answers.

If your internal monologue is a guttural scream, then "The Yellow Wallpaper" is the story for you. While it is undeniably one of the most famous stories of postpartum depression, or more generally, "that story where that lady goes insane," it is also an excellent dark comedy. The very fact that it is so funny allows for a serious exploration of the protagonist's psychosis that does not belittle her condition or character.

Many of the stories in this collection include responses to gaslighting, and poke fun at absurdly restrictive societal norms. Gilman is all about turning assumptions upside down, something she does exceptionally well with the heartwarming "Turned." While the women of her time were often burdened with the consequences of not only their own actions, but also those of the men around them, Gilman allows for her female protagonists to be free in body and mind.

It is worth mentioning that different editions under the name "The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories" contain different short stories by Gilman. I would definitely recommend this volume, but I can't image an unsatisfying Gilman short story, so go ham with whichever version you want.

There is no denying the influence of Milton Friedman's "Capitalism and Freedom," which still holds sway with many politicians today. This is by no means a compliment.

From the beginning there were plenty of red flags for a bad argument to come. Within the Preface of the book after thanking his esteemed professors, Friedman boldly states, "I ask their pardon for my failure to acknowledge specifically the many ideas of theirs which they will find expressed in this book. I have learned so much from them and what I have learned has become so much a part of my own thought that I would not know how to select points to footnote" (xvi). Indeed, after this preemptive apology for what seems to be an admission of plagiarism, the person he cites the most in this book is himself. What a guy.

In addition to ambiguous citations, Friedman also fails to provide examples to back up his claims, demoting his proposals to hypotheses, rather than fully fleshed-out theory. Much of what he proposes could work as a hypothetical argument against the extremism of Communism but fails to refute the indisputably positive aftermath of Keynesian economics which saved the American economy following the Great Depression.

His penchant for cutting back on gov’t oversight, also demonstrates that he does not fully understand why certain gov’t programs exist. For example, Friedman is not a fan of National Parks, as they are not financially self-sufficient programs (31). Here, Friedman fails to understand that there are many forms of value beside initial monetary gains. National Parks preserve large tracts of nature from harmful forms of enterprise that could permanently alter their aesthetic value (i.e., logging, fracking, mining, oil drilling, etc.). Every time I hear John Prine's "Paradise," I am reminded of why National Parks are important for preserving American heritage for future generations. Additionally, the tourism produced by National Parks also provides an indirect economic stimulus for towns in remote locations.

Friedman's distaste of regulation is perhaps most extreme with his views toward the American Medical Association. He disagrees with essentially all medical regulations and proposes that in place of holding doctors to exacting standards, people should be able to choose professionals or "technicians" based on their reputation alone (157). This is a dangerous proposition that could leave numerous people vulnerable to charlatans. I will conclude this thought by pointing you in the direction of that quack Dr. Oz. Popularity clearly does not equate medical expertise.

His ideas that free-market capitalism could eliminate discrimination without government interference (i.e., Civil Rights laws), are also perplexing and seem far removed from reality. Friedman purports that the act of discrimination will incur costs on the party performing the discrimination, and over time this will act as a deterrent to such behavior (110). This fails to take into account the fact that ethnic groups who have accumulated wealth and are culturally taught to find other ethnic groups inferior, will still be able to maintain their wealth relatively free of consequence, especially if they are not taxed on that wealth.

In general, I think most people want to live in a meritocracy that rewards hard work. Friedman's ideas could never facilitate such an outcome, especially in that he finds it morally troubling to tax inheritance (172), which would ultimately stifle economic mobility. In 2018, I have found that the lazy sons of rich men still tend to be more successful than the hard-working daughters of a poor women. This is not freedom to me.

Another argument Friedman fails to develop, is the notion that raising the minimum wage would increase poverty. He argues that employers would be less likely to hire more employees given these restrictions (180). Again, common sense would show that the employer who could pay 1 employee $15.00/ hr., or 2 employees $7.50/ hr., will actually hire 1 employee for the same job(s) and pay them $7.50/ hr. Better yet, the employer will call the position an 'internship' and pay the intern in 'experience.' That is free-market capitalism in action.

Overall, I found his argument for radical capitalism to be radically underdeveloped. While Friedman argues that the free market is a powerful entity, he never explains just how it would work to stabilize itself without regulations. The idea that private enterprises seeking to create profit could realistically replace gov’t programs that exist to provide public services, is also never fully explained.

While the concept of freedom of choice is attractive at face-value, Friedman's policies would limit choices for working class folks if anything. Anyway, I made the choice to read this book, and I have to say it was not my best choice. I do feel I have a better understanding of how modern-day Conservatives and Neoliberals make sense of the world but given how unsubstantial this ideology is, I find that more disconcerting than illuminating.

My final verdict is that Milton Friedman's ideas are fried, man.

With an anthropological understanding of the human condition, Ursula K. Le Guin continues to culturally build to the world of Earthsea with the Kargish island of Atuan.

The protagonist Tenar is taken from her family at a young age to become Arha, the priestess known as the "Eaten One." She serves the religion of the "Nameless Ones," which is as fascinating as it is terrifying. As with "A Wizard of Earthsea," the nature of names and identity are further explored, but now within the context of a female character in a patriarchal society.

Overall, what makes this a classic Le Guin novel, is the strength of the narrative's tone. When a character is lost and afraid, or learning and understanding, their emotional process is well articulated and allows for the reader to better understand the greater milieu of Earthsea.

If you liked "A Wizard of Earthsea," this entry to the series is a solid continuation.

Well, if you enjoyed "The Book of Three," then I would rank "The High King" at essentially the same level of quality.

By this I mean that in terms of what is good, the characters are mostly entertaining. The narrative, however, is littered with a number cliche fantasy tropes. I would even argue that these platitudes work against the strength of the characters. This is most clear with Eilonwy, who had many interesting elements, but ended up being more plot device than character (again).

Was it amazing? Na-ah.
Did I enjoy it? More or less.
Do I recommend it? If you are completionist, then sure.

This is the highest praise I can give for "The High King."

It is not often that I read a 300+ page book in a single sitting, but "Little Fires Everywhere" is so suspenseful that I hardly noticed the day slip away. Who knew a suburban fire could unravel into explorations of the existential tenets of motherhood and greater human inter-connectivity? But here we are.

Celeste Ng is an excellent storyteller. As an author she is great at pacing and playing with perspective. What really drives the narrative though, is how well Ng is able to craft characters. While there were a number of emotionally charged conflicts that escalated throughout the novel, I do not feel like there were any true villains. There were certainly characters I profoundly disagreed with whose actions I found to be toxic and self-serving, but Ng still made them vulnerably human and I could not hate them.

Ng essentially explains her approach to building characters (perhaps even lightly poking through the fourth wall) when she has Mr. Richardson reflect on his wife's feelings of a bitter custody battle:

"For her it was simple: Bebe Chow had been a poor mother; Linda McCullough had been a good one. One had followed the rules, and one had not. But the problem with rules, he reflected, was that they implied a right way and a wrong way to do things. When, in fact, most of the time there were simply ways, none of them quite wrong or quite right, and nothing to tell you for sure which side of the line you stood on" (269)

Despite all that is great, there is no denying much of the conflict could have been resolved if characters had talked to each other, instead of indignantly seeking moral validation for their own perspectives. While this does speak truth to life, it is no less frustrating to read. People are complex and want to be understood, but this cannot happen without communication.

Overall, I would still definitely recommend this one, and I look forward to more by Celeste Ng.

It continues to surprise me how few know that George Orwell was an outspoken Democratic Socialist. Orwell is best known for his anti-communist works of fiction, namely Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four, so I can only imagine the confusion is due to a larger misunderstanding of the differences between 'socialism' and 'communism.' Either way, in his non-fiction work, The Road to Wigan Pier, Orwell lays down many of his personal socio-political views.

The first half of the book is written as an ethnography of coal miners in northern industrial England. He explores the nature of how low wages and privatization have lead to a poor quality of life which includes numerous health problems, dangerous working conditions, poor nutrition, bad living conditions, and generally fewer options. He also explores the impact of mass unemployment on the working class, and how even though it was a nation-wide phenomena at the time, the unemployed were still blamed by society for their own unemployment.

The second half of the book takes this case study and further explores class differences. As Orwell conducted his research through participant-observation, actually living in these coal mining communities, he comes to have a greater understanding of how he makes sense of the world being from the middle class. He reflects on his own biases, 'snobbishness,' and how a cultural sense of superiority can be established and perpetuated (131). It is this internal self-reflection that is perhaps the strongest component of his social analysis.

Ultimately, Orwell argues that 'socialism' is the answer to improving the quality of life and dignity of the working class. Orwell also contends that 'socialism' is innately contrary to the tyranny of 'fascism' and 'communism' that were gaining popularity throughout Europe during the early 1900's. While I personally agree with these key points, I do feel that Orwell's argument is left somewhat underdeveloped in that he does not more clearly address economic policy that could facilitate his form of 'socialism.'

Orwell also speculates on why so many still reject the ideology of 'socialism' and blames the association of certain groups who tend to support it. He states that the masses typically assert that, "I don't object to Socialism, but I do object to Socialists" (173), which are people he groups as, "...every fruit-juice drinker, nudist, sandal-wearer, sex-maniac, Quaker, 'Nature Cure' quack, pacifist and feminist in Europe" (174). Essentially, people who are not straight, white males with mainstream proclivities.

On the one hand, this is an astute observation that still holds true today in 2018; there are still working class conservatives that literally call progressives "sandal-wearers." More so, there are plenty of 'regular folks' who shudder to think they could benefit from the same policies as minorities and hippies. On the other hand, Orwell argues that to romanticize the working class is to patronize them, but by allowing his own prejudices to cloud his analysis of working class bias, he condescendingly depicts them as this fragile, homogeneous group. It's a flaw.

In undergrad, an anthropology professor once told me that ethnographies often have greater enduring relevance than cultural theory, because while analysis will inevitably change, data will always remain data. I would say that this essentially holds true for The Road to Wigan Pier.

I would still recommend it, especially the strong first half; just keep context in mind for the uneven analysis in the second half.

For quite some time I solely understood Naomi Klein's The Shock Doctrine to be a critique of Bush era economic policy. In actuality, this was a mere launch point for what would truly be an in-depth, thoroughly researched criticism of how the powerful exploit the weak in times of crisis.

I have long been weary of mass privatization and deregulation, and Klein's work is good because she provides numerous historical examples of how Friedman-esque policies lead to the erasure of the middle class. On top of this, what makes this book great is Klein's articulate argument for how the process of implementing such policies erodes the democratic process, more often than not.

In Milton Friedman's Capitalism and Freedom, he argues that capitalism is synonymous with freedom. Klein rails against this assertion, providing numerous historical examples from Pinochet's dictatorship in Chile, to communist China's implementation of such economic policies. The only way to make this ideology reality in its purest form, is to dispel democracy. She breaks down Friedman's argument so thoroughly, you could read this book as an A-grade diss-track, but with academic citations.

She likens the implementation of disaster capitalism to shock therapy, in that to implement such policy the existing slate must be whipped "clean." Klein further examines how the "cleaning" and erasure of dissenters (actual people), is necessary in instating unpopular policy that takes from the poor and gives to the rich.

What Klein proposes is truly horrifying, but even more scary is that once I started to read her arguments, I began to see real-world manifestations of the shock doctrine in the present day news. I write this review in 2018, six months after Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico (a tax-paying U.S. territory), where significant portions of the population are without electricity and in dire need of aid. Instead of help, there are talks for privatization to generate immediate funds. People seeing how this will result in the long term loss of jobs, money, and access to public services are rallying against these proposals; but there is no denying that disaster capitalism is alive and thriving today.

Overall, due to the wide-reaching scope and in-depth analysis of history and policy, I would argue that The Shock Doctrine is essential reading. It altered my own outlook on economic power structures, and left me shook (terrible pun intended).

While Underground is not Murakami's first foray with tragedy, it is unique in that it is structured around a collection of interviews and essays. The book includes accounts from both survivors/families of victims of the 1995 Aum cult's sarin gas attack in the Tokyo subway, as well as former members of the Aum cult (thought not those directly involved in the attacks).

The memories of those who suffered from the terrorist attacks are not easy to read. Ranging from minor injuries, various manifestations of PTSD, lifelong debilitating disability, and death, the accounts are raw and paint a vivid image of terrorism's aftermath.

Underground, along with The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and after the quake, consisted of a series of Murakami's explorations of the 1990's Japanese national psyche. While his two works of fiction contain narratives of emotion and detachment, Underground most explicitly defines what Murakami thinks.

Especially highlighted with his interviews with (mostly) former Aum cult members, it is clear that Murakami seeks to understand how people make sense of and find attachments to greater entities in their lives, as well as how they can be detached to the point of allowing for bad things to happen (directly or indirectly).

It is not for the faint of heart, but I would still recommend Underground. It is a good read that details an important part of history.