Flirting for Profit: A Taibbi Article and a New Yorker Story

 I was reading an article by Matt Taibbi on how an ordinary American couple rather innocently got swallowed up in student debt when one particular turn of events in the saga reminded me of the March 1, 2021 New Yorker short story: "Good-Looking," by Souvankham Thammavongsa.

In his article on student debt, Taibbi said:

They [the young couple] took classes at Sacramento State, finished credits for degrees from Humboldt, and then discovered what a lot of young people in the eighties and nineties were learning, that the implied bargain of college — get a degree, get a good job — was less than a concrete proposition. “It was a wake-up call,” Robin says. She remembers an early job selling muffins.

“The muffin route that I took over, was from a beautiful woman, who was very charismatic, bubbly, and stunning,” she recalls, laughing. “She knew her route, and gave me the list, saying, ‘Do these muffins.’ I shadowed her the first day, and she sold them all! ‘Okay,’ I thought. ‘I'll do the same thing.’ I quickly found that part of the customer attraction was seeing her. I came back with half the muffins.”

Well, the muffin lady was undoubtedly using her charms to either overly, or in effect, flirt with her customers, monetizing that capability.  Some customers, her replacement found out, evidently weren't all that interested in the muffins. They were paying for the delights of charming lady's company, apparently in an innocent and harmless fashion. 

Monetizing one's ability to successfully flirt is the jumping off point of "Good-Looking," but with a twist.  Someone other than the charmer is apparently getting all, or at least most, of the proceeds.

The chief protagonist, a 38-year-old married man who works part time as a gym instructor, was encouraged by his boss to flirt with the predominately female membership, in part because he was good looking. That would help keep the women coming, the boss said, arguing that it was "harmless."  Except that the married instructors who engaged in such activities were urged to take off their wedding rings.

Well, of course, one woman interpreted the message a bit differently and invited the instructor out.  He accepted, but with a twist that I won't reveal here so as not to ruin the story.

According to Thammavongsa, in the usual New Yorker author interview, "Good-Looking" is a riff on the question what is love?

But to me it was more compelling as a profile of the protagonist and as brief exploration of whether one can harmlessly flirt for profit. 

A Charming Little Tale from Thomas Hardy

 In "Far From the Madding Crowd," Thomas Hardy's chief male protagonist, Gabriel Oak, at one points finds himself in a drinking establishment called Warren's Malthouse, getting to know the locals and in the process, trying to find out more about his former neighbor and now prospective employer, Bathsheba Everdene to whom he had once unsuccessfully proposed marriage.

The other men first claimed not to know much about Bathsheba, who only a few days earlier had taken over a nearby farm that had been owned by her recently deceased uncle, but after Oak persisted, asking if anyone knew her father and mother, one man, Jacob Smallbury, said he had known them a little before both had died some years earlier. Smallbury then pressed the maltster for details, a request that prompted various others to weigh in as well.

In a nutshell Bathsheba's father had married a very attractive woman whom he adored; he may or may not have been wealthy between bankruptcies, and, most interestingly, he apparently had a certain weakness: a rather strong desire to chase after pretty girls despite his good fortune in marriage.

"Well, now, you'd hardly believe it, but that man -- our Miss Everdene's father -- was one of the ficklest husbands alive, after a while," said a man named Mr. Coggan. "Understand, 'a didn't want to be fickle, but he couldn't help it.  The poor feller were faithful and true to her in his wish, but his heart would rove, do what he would."

Among other things, this brings to mind Dante's "Commedia" in which he postulates that man is endowed with love and intellect, or desire and reason, and that they need to be harmonized.

In this case, Levi Everdene's desire was pointed in one direction and his will in another.

It could have been a disaster in the making, but according to Mr. Coggan, Everdene came up with what might be thought of as a rather ingenious if somewhat problematic workaround.

After his shop closed for the day and they sat together, Everdene made Bathsheba's mother take off her wedding ring. He then called her by her maiden name and pursued her as if he were enjoying the transgressive delights of adultery.

"As soon as he could thoroughly fancy he was doing wrong and committing the seventh, 'a got to like her as well as ever and they lived on a perfect picture of mutel love," Coggan said. The reference, of course, is one of the 10 Commandments.

"Well, 'twas a most ungodly remedy," murmured Joseph Poorgrass (another one of the locals); "but we ought to feel deep cheerfulness that a happy Providence kept it from being any worse. You see, he might have gone the bad road and given his eyes to unlawfulness entirely -- yes, gross unlawfulness, so to say it."

"You see," said Billy Smallbury, "the man's will was to do right, sure enough, but his heart didn't chime in." 

And, as the years went by, Levi Everdene apparently became "quite godly," by among other things, copying verses from tombstones and serving as a godfather "to poor little come-by-chance children."

Well, that was a narrow escape, wasn't it? Good thing his wife was apparently a very fetching woman who evidently found pleasure in the game as well.

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No Gift Is Free, In Some Cultures More Than Others

(Nothing, the General muttered, is ever so expensive as what is offered for free.)

I heard this from a Japanese professor in Tokyo during a wonderful sashimi dinner where I was the guest as a visiting lecturer. The dinner was, for me, free. But the mild implication was that there was now a web of obligation in which I was caught. I haven’t yet had the chance to repay that hospitality. But what the professor said has always remained with me, as it’s probably true. At least in some cases.

The material above is from a "Goodreads" feature in which Viet Thanh Nguyen offers a bit of explication for his novel "The Sympathizer," set in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. 

The question of whether a gift of one sort or another is truly free is an issue I deal with near the end of my novella, "Manhattan Morning" and as you can see from reading the excerpt below, it is not surprising that this question apparently first arose in Nguyen's mind during a stay in Japan.

From "Manhattan Morning:"

The woman took a sip of the tea, put it down and pushed it slightly away.  Pretty dreadful, Dan thought.  Probably the water in the cup wasn’t piping hot and in any event, she clearly hadn’t let it steep long enough. 

She pulled her briefcase up and began prowling around in it.  Dan tried hard not to look.

      “Shit!”

 Dan couldn’t believe his ears. 

     “Oh, shit!” 

Fork in midair, he looked at her, hesitated slightly, and then asked what was wrong.

      “I can’t pay for my lunch.  I don’t have enough cash and I don’t have my credit card with me.  I must have left it at home this morning.  What a nightmare!” She was staring at the briefcase with a distraught look on her face. 

     “Don’t worry about it.  I’ll pay for it.  It looks like … what, about ten bucks? Including the tip? I mean it’s nothing.  I’d be happy to.” 

     “No, no, I can’t let you do that.” 

They looked at each other and Dan smiled. 

     “Come on, what’s ten dollars? I mean it’s just nothing.  And what’s the alternative? My guess is this place doesn’t run tabs and I can’t exactly see you washing dishes here.” 

She laughed. 

     “I guess not.  Well … I feel totally ridiculous … how could this happen? … How can I let a complete stranger buy my lunch? … Only if I can pay you back.  You have to promise.” 

     “Sure, but I don’t care if you forget.  Really, it’s a ridiculously small amount.”

      “It’s the principle.” 

Dan knew what she meant from his days in Japan.  If she didn’t pay him back, it would hang over her.  The Japanese often refused help from strangers, even in rather dire circumstances, and by the same token, people sometimes walked past a person in need, unwilling to help.  As soon as one did something for someone, a debt was incurred.  The problem was, there was never any way to pay it off exactly, to square the account.  So one tended to overpay so as not to have doubled the burden through what might be perceived as ingratitude.  But over payment simply shifted the obligation to the other side, presenting the same dilemma there.  The two parties were now linked like two small children on a seesaw that refused to balance in the middle. 

Americans were better able to shrug it off and move on, but in a way, once a person enters your life in this fashion, they never really leave.  Just a ghost in most cases, but people did make friends – even enemies – through such circumstances.  Dan suddenly felt sorry for his companion.  She seemed busy.  She didn’t need complications in her life. 

     “Here, write your name and address on this piece of paper,” the woman said, handing Dan one of the white tablets and a ballpoint pen.  She had turned over many pages before finding one that was blank. 

As Dan took the materials, the woman looked at him rather intently, afraid he might refuse?

      “Sure,” Dan said, and wrote it out.

(Martin, Fowler. Manhattan Morning: A Novella (pp. 111-113). Kindle Edition.)

Lily King's "Timeline:" A Story of Manners, or Who Are We?

 It was more or less by chance -- browsing through the latest Lit Hub email on a slow pandemic morning -- that I read "Timeline" via a link to "OprahMag."  There it was identified as a new short story by award-winning author Lilly King and as "the perfect romantic drama." On the that score, readers can decide for themselves, but I hope not.

The story mainly got me thinking about why one reads fiction.  Well, most fiction is written for entertainment and in the interest of providing a living for the author. Some books eventually fall into what is known as "the canon" and one then reads them  in the interest of "becoming cultured." This notion actually plays a role in "Timeline."

But over the years, the reason I personally have read fiction is to get a better understanding of social values, both here in the U.S. and in other countries.  When I worked in Japan for five years, for instance, I mainly read Japanese novels in translation.  And when I worked in England for eight years, I mainly read English literature. In most cases these were, at least loosely, novels of manners, which is to say books about how people interact with each other in normal, ordinary society.  

"Timeline" is a short story of manners, and in that vein, serves to illuminate the nature of present day American life. It's not definitive of our current culture, of course, and I'm sure Ms King would be the first to say so. But it may well be all too representative of certain currents now running within it. As such, it is worth a read.

Culture Wars and an Explosive Word in Indianopolis

 The Arts section of the Thursday, Feb. 18, 2021 New York Times has a half-page spread about the head of an art museum resigning over the apparently ill-advised use of a single word: "white." That was after an equally lengthy article three days earlier about an apology by the museum for the misstep, evidently deemed inadequate.

The Indianapolis Museum of Art at Newfields was founded in 1883 and boasts over 50,000 objects in its collection, but not enough, it appears, by American Blacks and perhaps other minorities.

At least in part to address such concerns, the museum recently posted a job offer notice saying it was seeking a director who would work to build a more diverse audience while at the same time maintain "it's traditional, core, white audience."  Indianapolis is approximately 62% white, 28% Black and the remainder of the population Hispanic and other identities.

Charles L. Venable, who resigned following a letter of protest from the museum's staff and a host of members of the local art community, told the NYT that the use of the word "white" was deliberate and meant to assure people the museum wasn't going to abandon it's existing audience in the process of moving toward greater diversity, equity and inclusion. In the wake of the furor, the word "white" was deleted from the posting,which apparently otherwise remained the same.

Let's pause for a moment and think about why Mr. Venable undoubtedly thought it was important to explicitly reference the museum's traditional base of "white" support.  In his position, he was in charge of finances and there, the museum is overwhelmingly dependent upon donations.  Direct government support in 2019, the latest year for which figures are available, accounted for only $336,000 of revenues totaling $48.7 million. Since the museum is organized as a private non-profit (a 501(c)(3) corporation), contributors may be able to get a tax break for their donations -- just as they may be able to get a tax break by donating to Black Lives Matter -- so one can argue there is some indirect public support.

But, essentially, this is a private sector entity dependent upon voluntary contributions.  If they back away, the museum could be in significant trouble very quickly. Neither of the two articles in the NYT mentioned this possibility nor did they discuss the museum's financial situation.

For most of its history, entry into the museum was free of charge, but Mr. Venable changed that policy in 2014 in the interest of long-term financial stability. In other words, to hedge against a possible decline in donations. In 2019, "admissions, fees and sales (there is a gift shop) accounted for $5 million of the $48.7 million of total revenues so there is a ways to go.

If you are interested, there is an extensive list of donors at the end of the annual report and my guess is that the vast majority are white. So what's the problem with explicitly referencing them and what may be their concerns -- that in working towards inclusion and diversity, the museum doesn't intend to compromise the aesthetic and cultural values the donors have poured millions of dollars into over the years?

The problem is this: in the current culture wars, "whites" are by definition the universally privileged beneficiaries of a society constructed on systemic racism from it's very origins -- the Founding Fathers and the Constitution. When whites are so privileged, the notion that their concerns should be catered to is in itself racist. But reality is reality so it's best just not to be so explicit. 

Perhaps the donors will be just as reassured by the vague wording as they would be by the more explicit reassurance.  Time will tell.

This all occurred, by the way, at a time when the museum was, with the assistance of two guest curators, mounting a street mural created by 18 Black artists about Black Lives Matter.  

But when the wording of the job posting became widely known, the two guest curators said they could not continue working with the museum unless the museum apologized to the 18 artists, offered them an opportunity to have their other works displayed with appropriate compensation and agreed to display more works from Black artists "in perpetuity," the New York Times reported.

These events also occurred at a time when the museum's website contained a prominent guide to a host of sites in the area connected with Black history.

But there is apparently another side to the story. The museum has been accused of, among other things, promoting the work of Black artists without substantially supporting them. And a Black woman named Kelli Morgan, who was hired in 2018 to diversity the museum's galleries, resigned last July, calling the museum's culture "toxic" and "discriminatory" in a letter she made public.

"Newfields is a very visible, very bad symptom of a much larger cancer," the Times quoted her as saying -- a reference, apparently, to the aforementioned systemic racism that is now seen as the appropriate way to describe the U.S. 

That being the case, at its core, the culture war is a power struggle and the unfortunate use of the word "white" turned out to be a critical chink in the armor of one set of the powers that be.

 

 

Current U.S. Culture Wars Plus An Age-Old Controversy

 Readers interested in what appear to be intensifying culture wars within the U.S. -- specifically over whether "Whiteness" should be toppled, but other issues as well -- are strongly encouraged to read "Blind to Hate or Sounding the Right Notes?" in the Oct. 15, 2021 issue of the Arts section of the New York Times.

The lengthy article also brings up an age-old controversy: whether a work of intellect or art stands independently on its own merits, or whether the merits of it's creator need to be taken into consideration when deciding it's worth.

For example, see "Is It Time Gaugin Got Canceled?" in Nov. 18, 2019 New York Times.

But back to current culture wars, this time centered on a University of North Texas professor of music theory named Timothy Jackson and his chief critic, Philip Ewell, a professor of music theory at Hunter College in New York City,  Jackson is white and Ewell is Black (I'm following the NYT here in that the word "white" when referring to racial identity is not capitalized while "black" is.)

In Ewell's view, music criticism generally is dominated by white males and beset by racism, the NYT reported, and nowhere more egregiousness so than by the work of a Jewish theorist named Heinrich Schenker who died in Austria in 1935.  Jackson, identified as the grandson of Jewish emigres, has, the NYT said, has devoted himself to the study of Schenker's work.

In response to Ewell's views, Jackson and some colleges decided to solicit a series of papers on the  controversy for publication in the "Journal of Schenkerian Studies," which boasts about 30 paid subscribers, the NYT said, and a veritable volcano erupted. Read the article for details.

As for culture wars, the central battle covered by the article is yet another front in the ongoing war over whether not just the U.S. but, indeed, all of Western Civilization, is simply one big racist abomination  that needs to be overturned. In that context, Powell contends that when it comes to the study of music, Ancient Greek, Latin, Italian, French and German should be prohibited except by special dispensation in specific instances.  One wonders how English made the cut,

But also at issue is what the article descried as a contention by Jackson that Ewell's position is illustrative of a much broader current of anti-Semitic attitudes of American Blacks. 

Free speech -- an increasingly controversial topic in the wake of silencing Trump -- also comes into question in the Jackson-Ewell flap.  The traditional notion that speech should be free particularly on college campuses competes with a "newer view that speech itself can constitute violence," the NYT article said. In other words, things may be moving beyond concerns over "micro aggressions"  into justifications for censorship -- on both the Right and the Left.

Lastly, there is that issue of what to think about the products of intellectuals and artists who have lived arguably reprehensible lives or expressed arguably reprehensible opinions.

Schenker, for instance, is on record as having referred to "inferior races" and worse -- views that, in Ewell's opinion, are inseparable from his apparently very significant contributions to music theory. The counter view is that the theories should stand on their own merits.

The answer apparently isn't easy as per the comment of an NYT reader identified as "Lisa" (from Boston) who says:

"I have a doctorate in music and while I have always been aware of Wagner's well-known antisemitism (just to name an example) I was required to understand and utilize Schenkerian theory on my comps--and it was not until this controversy came to light that I was even *aware* that Schenker was a racist. To the point, it is up to the individual to decide what to do with information once it is known. But it NEEDS to be known. When it's not, it is indeed what Ewell says it is: whitewashing."

In "Lisa's" case, Schenker's work clearly stood on it's own when she needed it academically, but ... 

 

Authors Don't Get to Decide How Their Books Are Read

The salient message in Katy Waldman's Feb. 11, 2021 New Yorker review of "Bina: a Novel in Warnings," goes as follows:

"Anakana Schofield’s new novel, 'Bina,' is almost as recalcitrant as its narrator; both demand, grouchily and wittily, to be taken on their own terms."

Good luck!

When an artist releases a work of art, while he or she may retain legal rights to it, it's in the public domain as to what, if anything, it means. There is absolutely no requirement that it be "taken on its own terms." which seems to imply a certain reading is required. But, Waldman had to come down somewhere in her review and that didn't appear to be easy since Bina, the character, is a grouchy old woman "aged out of economic value and conventional desirability."

"It’s tempting to interpret 'Bina' as a pointed challenge to the feminist marketplace: do you actually care about this lady?" Waldman asks. In other words, if one is a feminist, is one required to care about all women no matter how pedestrian or lackluster in nature? Among other things, does one have time for that?

Waldman is quick to point out that this is a novel of character, not a novel of plot, and in that sense is yet another child of literary modernism -- along the lines of "Casting Shadows" by Jhuma Lahiri, which  I talked about in my previous post.

The intimacy and directness of Bina's interaction with readers is the book's greatest strength and as a result, over time, she makes for great company, Waldman says. As is the case with "Casting Shadows," it's a window into a woman's world and may well be highly illuminating in that respect if one is interested in "getting women right" as male writers of fiction might be. 

But there is no need to take Schofield's writing on any particular terms.  Whatever you make of it is what it is.