Ishmael Reed is one of those writers that takes such a radical stance that it's hard to agree with all or some of his ideas. One that I can definitely agree with, however, is that western culture has worked very hard to take many blossoming art forms of the twentieth century and dull them to the point of irrelevancy. I've found one particularly poignant example during chorus.
Mr. Murphy and our student teacher announced that we would be singing "Satin Doll", a classic jazz song written by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn. To excite us for the new song we would be practicing, our student teacher played a recording of famous jazz singer Ella Fitzgerald performing the song alongside the Duke Ellington orchestra. Here's the recording she showed us.
The song is soulful, and greatly benefited by the personality of Fitzgerald. Ellington and Strayhorn's composition is jazzy and exciting, making use of all the different sounds they have available. Although I loved this performance, I quickly realized we were not qualified to attempt a recreation.
My initial fears were proven correct when I looked over the copy of the sheet music (no the original of course, but an adaptation). The singer's boppin' melody had been changed to accommodate a four-part mixed choir, making the sound flatter and not allowing the performers to get lost in the song as Fitzgerald would. To compound the issue, instead of the sweeping reinforcement of the Duke Ellington Orchestra, we would be accompanied by the limited tones and sharp chords of a piano, resulting in a song that lacks any of the hearty flow present in the original.
I was ready to get over this and chalk all of it up to a bad adaptation that wasn't worthwhile, but then, halfway through the piece, there was a large scat session. For those of you who are unfamiliar with scat singing, it is when a jazz performer or singer takes a break from the chorus and verses to get lost in the rhythm of the piece. They vocalize this feeling of free-wheeling optimism by stringing nonsense words together in an improvised rhythm and order. An example would be Louis Armstrong taking a break from his trumpet to yell something like "Zoo-poo-doo wop bop-bow wop boo-boo." Something like this works perfectly with Jazz, but the entire point is missed here. By writing down in the music what the singer should specifically do while scatting, it guts the song of any believable soul.
A whole choral group improvising scat sounds terrible I admit, but that just shows why it doesn't work for this type of music. It just looks to me like an attempt by the old-fashioned "classical" demographic in the music industry to ship and sell the genre of Jazz, much like how the Wallflower Order seeks to remove the power of Jus Grew from the people.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
To "mumbo jumbo" and back
I was especially interested when today's discussion touched on the meaning and use of the Mumbo Jumbo's title phrase. From the very first chapter, the book seeks to simultaneously depict the belittling of black culture and the manner in which this can be combated.
The very first use of the phrase "mumbo jumbo" is by a white man attempting to describe the supposed inhuman jabbering of the people infected with Jes Grew. Here, we can see how the guardians of the mainstream combat a foreign and unknown cultural force: by belittling and dismissing it. Calling something mumbo jumbo does more than just show a lack of understanding, but also an attitude in which it can never be treated seriously. Nobody would ever try to understand "mumbo jumbo". It makes about as much sense as trying to understand the random chittering of squirrels.
That's how this novel depicts the treatment of the growing Jes Grew "epidemic", thus providing an intriguing metaphor for initial mainstream treatment of growing black culture forms throughout the modern era, specifically jazz and swing, but also pertaining to other forms such as bebob, rock, and hip-hop. These genres were all viewed as separate and uncultured by the generation that came before, and usually were not accepted fully into the popular consciousness until they were effectively adapted for white audiences. It also becomes interesting when you consider its effectiveness in essentially eradicating Voodoo's legitimacy in the public consciousness. We don't like to admit it, but the American cultural system has essentially tricked us into dehumanizing an entire form of belief, and that's a scary realization for us to make as modern "clear-thinking" Americans.
Reed is incredibly poignant with these uses of the phrase to depict the cultural oppression in America, but it's also interesting how he seems to endorse a form of protest or retaliation as well. Both in his use of the definition at the end of chapter 1 and the story of PaPa LaBas' Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral. The original definition of mumbo jumbo used directly after the first derisive use of the phrase serves to say that regardless of how these words and cultural movements may be treated, we mustn't allow ourselves to forget the truth of their origin, and by doing so preserve the culture that these people seek to take from the world. PaPa LaBas shows by example that by embracing the truth of these ideas, we can overcome the oppression heaped upon us. If people wanted to call it the "mumbo jumbo" cathedral, then the best form of defense is embracing the truth of the Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral.
I like how Reed is able to use subtlety to both disillusion the reader with the harsh realities of cultures at war, and the perseverance and determination of the human beings who would seek to preserve their way of life. It's especially impressive when you realize that all of this has come out of our first two readings, and that we have more than 2/3 of the book left in which Reed can work.
The very first use of the phrase "mumbo jumbo" is by a white man attempting to describe the supposed inhuman jabbering of the people infected with Jes Grew. Here, we can see how the guardians of the mainstream combat a foreign and unknown cultural force: by belittling and dismissing it. Calling something mumbo jumbo does more than just show a lack of understanding, but also an attitude in which it can never be treated seriously. Nobody would ever try to understand "mumbo jumbo". It makes about as much sense as trying to understand the random chittering of squirrels.
That's how this novel depicts the treatment of the growing Jes Grew "epidemic", thus providing an intriguing metaphor for initial mainstream treatment of growing black culture forms throughout the modern era, specifically jazz and swing, but also pertaining to other forms such as bebob, rock, and hip-hop. These genres were all viewed as separate and uncultured by the generation that came before, and usually were not accepted fully into the popular consciousness until they were effectively adapted for white audiences. It also becomes interesting when you consider its effectiveness in essentially eradicating Voodoo's legitimacy in the public consciousness. We don't like to admit it, but the American cultural system has essentially tricked us into dehumanizing an entire form of belief, and that's a scary realization for us to make as modern "clear-thinking" Americans.
Reed is incredibly poignant with these uses of the phrase to depict the cultural oppression in America, but it's also interesting how he seems to endorse a form of protest or retaliation as well. Both in his use of the definition at the end of chapter 1 and the story of PaPa LaBas' Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral. The original definition of mumbo jumbo used directly after the first derisive use of the phrase serves to say that regardless of how these words and cultural movements may be treated, we mustn't allow ourselves to forget the truth of their origin, and by doing so preserve the culture that these people seek to take from the world. PaPa LaBas shows by example that by embracing the truth of these ideas, we can overcome the oppression heaped upon us. If people wanted to call it the "mumbo jumbo" cathedral, then the best form of defense is embracing the truth of the Mumbo Jumbo Kathedral.
I like how Reed is able to use subtlety to both disillusion the reader with the harsh realities of cultures at war, and the perseverance and determination of the human beings who would seek to preserve their way of life. It's especially impressive when you realize that all of this has come out of our first two readings, and that we have more than 2/3 of the book left in which Reed can work.
Mumbo Jumbo and Ragtime: My Initial Thoughts.
After observing the lukewarm to negative reactions to Ragtime, I naturally assumed that Mumbo Jumbo, a book that in my mind tests the reader's patience even more, would receive the same if not higher level of hostility. To my surprise, the vocal majority was more than accepting of Ishmael Reed's experimental rollercoaster. Even the most vocally opposed to Doctorow changed their tune for Mumbo Jumbo.
Now, I feel I can count myself among those who, for the most part, like what they've found so far in Mumbo Jumbo. Ishmael Reed's writing is so crisp and engaging that I'm always ready to tackle more. I'm also a big fan of his ability to mix the fictional and the historical so realistically that they blend together like a complex watercolor of storytelling. I am occasionally thrown back by Reed's constant attempts to play outside of the modern conventions of writing and syntax, but I don't think this will provoke anything more than a few raised eyebrows and an aggressive rolling of the eyes. Seeing as I like the book, I don't have a problem with the sudden shift in opinion towards the positive. What I do have a problem with is the continued negativity towards Doctorow's Ragtime.
I found it difficult to support the newfound positive attitudes of my classmates while they continued to retroactively criticize Doctorow's work. This isn't because I'm a person with some sort of all-or-nothing policy in regards to literary taste, but because I couldn't quite understand the path of logic between why Reed works and Doctorow doesn't. From what I heard from the more vocal portions of our class, Doctorow's use of postmodernist style (such as the references to research being done on Coalhouse Walker) was distracting and detracted from their enjoyment of the piece. Reed, on the other hand, used postmodernist style in a much more effective and enjoyable fashion.
I'll try and explain my problem with this line of thinking. In my mind, the use of more postmodernist techniques by Doctorow make the book seem more realistically steeped in history as opposed to fiction. This was used, not only as a way to draw the reader in, but also as a way of expressing Doctorow's belief that both history and fiction are simply composed of narrative. Now, when I look at what Reed is doing with his book, I see much less method within the madness. Certain elements such as the constant metaphor of cultural revolution as some sort of toxic disease and the treatment of the first chapter as something of a cold open are interestingly executed, but for every element that works, I seem to find five that are strewn about the text without any reason or meaning. Things like the seemingly random use of pictures and headscratchingly blunt footnotes don't appear to serve any purpose other than to shout to the reader "I DON'T FIT INTO YOUR RULES, MAN!!!"
I feel you can definitely debate whether or not the elements Doctorow introduces to his narrative are effective, but I don't think anyone can claim that they weren't incorporated with a particular reasoning in mind. I don't feel the same standard applies to Reed. He seems so focused on rebelling against some unknown oppressive force that he forgets to back up his strange displays with some form of meaning or purpose. I feel Hanan was able to sum up my opinion well in class today, if a bit clumsily. To paraphrase, she stated that she understood that the mentality seems to be "why not?", but ... why... why not? With what purpose does Reed do the things that he does? And what exactly is he rebelling against? It almost seems reminiscent of a young teen walking down the street with his underwear on the outside of his pants. "Why are you wearing them like that?" you would ask him, and his responce would be "BECAUSE I'M INDEPENDENT OF THE STANDARDS OF YOUR CRACKPOT SOCIETY!"
Boy, you sure showed me...
Aside from the fact that this "statement" was unprovoked and will doubtfully receive any reaction aside from initial curiosity, the boy has also managed to remove any practical benefit from wearing underwear. So too has Reed sacrificed some of the practical benefits of style and syntax for some semblance of a rebellious statement. This is why I have trouble understanding the strong dislike for the style of Doctorow, while Reed is viewed as a more natural and effective author.
I want to reiterate that I do enjoy Mumbo Jumbo so far despite the flaws I've discussed, and that the purpose of this blog was to garner some form of appreciation for the work of Doctorow, and not necessarily spurn any fan of Reed's. I feel like every time I reread or discuss a chapter of Reed's I am able to spot another postmodernist element which bears heavy meaning and purpose for the writing. The same, however has been true for my reading and exploration of Doctorow, and I hope that those most vocal critics of the author give his writing the same chance at real analysis of style and meaning that has been given to Reed.
Now, I feel I can count myself among those who, for the most part, like what they've found so far in Mumbo Jumbo. Ishmael Reed's writing is so crisp and engaging that I'm always ready to tackle more. I'm also a big fan of his ability to mix the fictional and the historical so realistically that they blend together like a complex watercolor of storytelling. I am occasionally thrown back by Reed's constant attempts to play outside of the modern conventions of writing and syntax, but I don't think this will provoke anything more than a few raised eyebrows and an aggressive rolling of the eyes. Seeing as I like the book, I don't have a problem with the sudden shift in opinion towards the positive. What I do have a problem with is the continued negativity towards Doctorow's Ragtime.
I found it difficult to support the newfound positive attitudes of my classmates while they continued to retroactively criticize Doctorow's work. This isn't because I'm a person with some sort of all-or-nothing policy in regards to literary taste, but because I couldn't quite understand the path of logic between why Reed works and Doctorow doesn't. From what I heard from the more vocal portions of our class, Doctorow's use of postmodernist style (such as the references to research being done on Coalhouse Walker) was distracting and detracted from their enjoyment of the piece. Reed, on the other hand, used postmodernist style in a much more effective and enjoyable fashion.
I'll try and explain my problem with this line of thinking. In my mind, the use of more postmodernist techniques by Doctorow make the book seem more realistically steeped in history as opposed to fiction. This was used, not only as a way to draw the reader in, but also as a way of expressing Doctorow's belief that both history and fiction are simply composed of narrative. Now, when I look at what Reed is doing with his book, I see much less method within the madness. Certain elements such as the constant metaphor of cultural revolution as some sort of toxic disease and the treatment of the first chapter as something of a cold open are interestingly executed, but for every element that works, I seem to find five that are strewn about the text without any reason or meaning. Things like the seemingly random use of pictures and headscratchingly blunt footnotes don't appear to serve any purpose other than to shout to the reader "I DON'T FIT INTO YOUR RULES, MAN!!!"
I feel you can definitely debate whether or not the elements Doctorow introduces to his narrative are effective, but I don't think anyone can claim that they weren't incorporated with a particular reasoning in mind. I don't feel the same standard applies to Reed. He seems so focused on rebelling against some unknown oppressive force that he forgets to back up his strange displays with some form of meaning or purpose. I feel Hanan was able to sum up my opinion well in class today, if a bit clumsily. To paraphrase, she stated that she understood that the mentality seems to be "why not?", but ... why... why not? With what purpose does Reed do the things that he does? And what exactly is he rebelling against? It almost seems reminiscent of a young teen walking down the street with his underwear on the outside of his pants. "Why are you wearing them like that?" you would ask him, and his responce would be "BECAUSE I'M INDEPENDENT OF THE STANDARDS OF YOUR CRACKPOT SOCIETY!"
Boy, you sure showed me...
Aside from the fact that this "statement" was unprovoked and will doubtfully receive any reaction aside from initial curiosity, the boy has also managed to remove any practical benefit from wearing underwear. So too has Reed sacrificed some of the practical benefits of style and syntax for some semblance of a rebellious statement. This is why I have trouble understanding the strong dislike for the style of Doctorow, while Reed is viewed as a more natural and effective author.
I want to reiterate that I do enjoy Mumbo Jumbo so far despite the flaws I've discussed, and that the purpose of this blog was to garner some form of appreciation for the work of Doctorow, and not necessarily spurn any fan of Reed's. I feel like every time I reread or discuss a chapter of Reed's I am able to spot another postmodernist element which bears heavy meaning and purpose for the writing. The same, however has been true for my reading and exploration of Doctorow, and I hope that those most vocal critics of the author give his writing the same chance at real analysis of style and meaning that has been given to Reed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)