I never quite understood the only book I ever tried to read by acclaimed security expert Edward Luttwak, but I found his take on the improbable survival of the North Korean regime enlightening.  For those who want the short version, he argues that the root of the problem has a lot to do with South Korea acting as an enabler of the North.  Among his points. . .

• North Korea could never survive on its own, so its survival can only come by acting as a parasite
• The South has acted as a primary enabler, through payoffs, work programs, etc.
• The South enables the North also through a failure to realistically face the North militarily.

Basically, if the South can change its behavior, Luttwak argues, the North cannot sustain itself for much longer.  But the South fails to live up to strategic realities.  He writes,

Meanwhile, South Korea has matched the North’s bellicosity with its own strategic perversity: It remains obsessed with an utterly unthreatening Japan and has been purchasing air power to contend with imagined threats from Tokyo as opposed to the real ones just north of the demilitarized zone. Seoul is simply unwilling to acquire military strength to match its vastly superior economy. Instead, it spends billions of dollars to develop its proudly “indigenous” T-50 jet fighters, Surion helicopters, and coastal defense frigates — alternatives for which could be much better, and cheaper, imported from the United States. Meanwhile, gaping holes remain in South Korean defenses (and thus we see the ridiculous spectacle of last-minute scrambling for missing equipment and munitions in the present crisis). And the cycle continues: Because the South allows itself to remain so vulnerable, it cannot react effectively against North Korea’s perpetual threats and periodic attacks. Instead, Seoul checks its bank account and gets ready for the next payoff.

Luttwak’s article illumines a great deal of the reality of the North Korean situation, and provides insight that we did not hear during the heat of the crisis.  The idea of Japan still looming large in South Korea’s mindset testifies to the longevity and power of cultural memory.  It made me wonder, however, if one piece remains missing.  If Luttwak is right, we still have to ask the question why South Korea continues to keep North Korea on life support.  We might arrive if we think of North and South Korea not as two separate nation-states, but as two brothers of the same family.

Families are meant to stay together, and the unnatural separation of North and South Korea after World War II traumatized both sides.  But they coped with this situation differently, and South Korea, obviously, is the brother that made good.  With their newfound and perhaps unexpected success, the South Koreans would inevitably feel twinges of survivor’s guilt.  So, while others just see dangerous choices that need to run its course, South Korea remembers the way it used to be, back before things went awry.  They give into the North’s demands maybe because they truly believe North Korea’s reformation is surely just right around the corner.  This time, they’ll be good for it, if just for old times sake.

I feel for the South, and if I’m right about this sibling analogy, they have my sympathy.  But I doubt that, whatever their good intentions, that their actions will pay off.  Cousin Eddie, after all, stayed Cousin Eddie no matter how many vacations the Griswold’s took.

The National Gallery of Art is currently running an exhibit of Pre-Raphaelite art.   The pre-Raphaelites came into existence in 1848, just at the beginning of the Victorian period.  They opposed what they believed to be excessive classicism in art and design, and hoped to revive an appreciation for the Gothic style supplanted by the Renaissance in general, and, according to them, Raphael in particular.

I can admire the pre-Raphaelites  to an extent.  I too believe that the modern west has greatly undervalued the medieval period, including Gothic art.  One can better appreciate the era when we realize that the Gothic style was the first time the west departed from the “Classical” style since ca. 500 B.C.  The Church developed something distinct and original with Gothic art, which had a playful extravagance and boyish charm.  We don’t often think about “playfulness” when we think of a medieval cathedral, but I submit that, for example, the location of Mt. St. Michael’s Cathedral out on the farthest reach of the Norman Coast has a glorious “why not?” quality.

The stained glass celebrated not just an unusual variety of people, shapes, and Biblical themes, but also an extravagant variety of color.

It seems that it was primarily this use of bold color that attracted the Pre-Raphaelites.  So much then, for the background information. What about the art itself?  Does it succeed?

Aye caramba!  This is just awful stuff, an overdose of schmaltz and sentiment on an unusual scale.

What went wrong?

Some might argue that their art failed because they were not good artists, but this simply begs the question as to why they lacked talent.  They obviously had certain technical skills necessary to create good art.  Some might point to the problems within the Victorian era itself, but this would exclude the possibility of any great art in the Victorian era, and Dickens, Van Gogh, and Stravinsky (among others) put that theory to rest.

I think the problem is not their mission, but their method.  Some months ago I discussed Toynbee’s theory of “Renaissances” and how they operate in history (my review of his book is here, and some thoughts on its application to music are here).  In summary, Toynbee believes that

• Borrowing from a “living” (i.e. currently existing) civilization, artist, or art form will usually lead to beneficial new creation, but
• Borrowing from a “dead” form (i.e. civilization, artist, etc.) will mean the calling up of a ghost, which will lead to a sterile act of creation, a stillborn attempt at achieving meaning.

The pre-Raphaelites show all of the characteristics of reviving a dead ghost of a long forgotten form.  The “ghost” constricts them, and so they try too hard, and end up producing sterile art that cannot move us in any way.

Strange as it may sound, I thought about Toynbee’s theory again when a friend sent me an article about the burgeoning heavy metal scene in, of all places, Botswana.  Here we have an example of one people group attempting a birth of something new in their nation not from a dead past, but from a living present.  While I have yet to hear any music, these pictures may give us a clue as to whether or not they will succeed.

Ok, perhaps we see a bit of rote copying in terms of the motorcycle and the leather, but still, who wouldn’t want to be that guy?

Again, the leather is “pretty standard,” but the cowboy hat is very cool, and he pulls it off.

No way western metal heroes like James Hetfield or Bruce Dickinson could ever pull off such a graceful yet arresting pose.

I look at this guy and think “Super-Hero,” and again, I love the hat.

Without hearing any music, I am encouraged and intrigued by the possibilities in Botswana.  Sure, they borrow some metal conventions from the west, but they also seem to be putting a distinctly African stamp at least upon their image.  One senses vibrancy here, whereas all the color in the world cannot take away the dead feeling I get while looking at the pre-Raphaelites.

All this proves once again, beware of the influence of a dead past.

Blessings,

Dave

On Netflix “View Instantly” one can watch one of their patented atypical documentaries about the font Helvetica.

One might think that a documentary about a font wouldn’t have much legs, but it held my attention throughout.  Whenever you have some people only half-jokingly blaming Helvetica for both the Vietnam and Iraqi wars, and others praising the font as one of the best forums for spreading equality and democracy everywhere, and you have a good subject for a documentary.  You will likely not see the world quite in the same way after viewing this film.

I don’t like Helvetica, but can appreciate its effectiveness.  In extended text, Helvetica leaves me cold, or perhaps more accurately, leaves me standing still.  I don’t feel any sense of life or motion in Helvetica.  Reading a paragraph in Helvetica can be exhausting.  But one can understand why it has such wide usage for signs and advertisements.  I find that it does have the effect of rooting someone to the ground, making them stand still, and read.

I gained a further appreciation for Helvetica by realizing that even fonts have a historical context, as this clip from film makes clear:

To learn about Helvetica is also to understand the debate surrounding Apple as well.  Helvetica, with its minimalism, modernism, and “accessibility” conveys the exact “brand” Apple seeks.  Apple products are simple, easy to use, and designed with a minimalist aesthetic, just like Helvetica.  So it makes perfect sense that Helvetica would be the default for their “Pages” program.  But Helvetica has no motion in it.  And like Apple, one could describe the font as a “closed,” or “immobile” system.  What would Lewis Mumford think of Helvetica?

In another example of how art imitates life, Microsoft developed the font “Arial” to compete with Helvetica, with almost every graphic designer agreeing that Arial cannot hold a candle to Helvetica. This diagram may not show that very effectively, but look at the difference, for example, on the capital “Q’s” (the stem is too long in Arial) and the capital “R’s” (Arial’s “R” looks awkward and stiff).

All in all, there is certainly more to fonts than we might suppose.  They work their white/black magic upon us without us really being aware of exactly how its done.