I must confess, I’ve always found Marx’s personal contradictions far more instructive than the reams of dense German prose in Das Kapital. Anyone can theorise about the inevitable triumph of the proletariat; it takes a truly remarkable mind to call for the abolition of the bourgeois family while quietly impregnating the maid and letting your … Continue reading In Which the Revolutionary Forgets His Own House Is a Revolution in Miniature
Author: Robert
A fifty-something, retired Celestial Travel Agent and Afterlife Preparation Specialist. Walked many paths; some good, lots bad. Meandering through a difficult past, plodding in the present, crawling toward the future. I've studied English Literature, and hold a BA (Hons) Hum. (History & Art History) & MA (Humanities with English Literature)
Dialectics, or How Karl Marx Ruined My Shandy
There are few things more dangerous to a peaceful evening than a Marxist in full flow. One minute you’re happily contemplating the head on your shandy, the next you’re being lectured about 'historical inevitability' by someone who’s never held a job long enough to be sacked. The conversation usually begins with the inevitable: “Dialectics is … Continue reading Dialectics, or How Karl Marx Ruined My Shandy
On the Philosophical Inch: Rabelais, Moderation, and the Peculiar Poetry of Bodily Measurement
It’s a curious thing, the way serious literature can sit happily alongside lavatorial humour. In Gargantua and Pantagruel, François Rabelais - physician, monk, and unabashed chronicler of the digestive tract - offers us not only giants, feasts, and bawdy theology, but also the sort of detail one might overhear in a backroom surgery over a … Continue reading On the Philosophical Inch: Rabelais, Moderation, and the Peculiar Poetry of Bodily Measurement
Invisible, My Eye – Reflections on Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man
When Ralph Ellison published Invisible Man in 1952, America was still congratulating itself on having beaten the Nazis and saved democracy. Yet here was a novel calmly pointing out that a good chunk of its own citizens were treated as if they didn’t exist - or rather, as if they existed only when they could … Continue reading Invisible, My Eye – Reflections on Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man
Gaslight and Gossamer: Reflections on Iolanthe and the Art of British Satire
There’s something deliciously subversive about walking into a Victorian comic opera knowing full well that you are about to be lampooned, along with everyone else in the room. Iolanthe has always struck me as a peculiar miracle - one of those rare works of art that wears its mischief lightly, yet rests on a foundation … Continue reading Gaslight and Gossamer: Reflections on Iolanthe and the Art of British Satire
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