Number Seven:
A Canticle for Leibowitz
By Walter Miller

My drama teacher had a phrase he liked to use. “Post-Apocalyptic Wicked MacBeth.”

Most of the time, Post-Apocalyptic Wicked Whatever is cheap, awful sci-fi, on the order of Mad Max, with no redeeming value except the chance to see Mel Gibson demonstrate just how Christian he is by killing a lot of people in an incredibly violent manner. And to be fair, we can see that in practically any genre.

Canticle has slightly more going for it than cheap irony.

Listen, are we helpless? Are we doomed to do it again and again and again? Have we no choice but to play the Phoenix in an unending sequence of rise and fall? Assyria, Babylon, Egypt, Greece, Carthage, Rome, the Empires of Charlemagne and the Turk. Ground to dust and plowed with salt. Spain, France, Britain, America—burned into the oblivion of the centuries. And again and again and again?

That's the sort of prose that flows across every page of this book, this story of the Brothers of Saint Liebowitz who keep a tiny portion of the knowledge of the twentieth century alive in the centuries following the Flame Deluge. I found out later that the author was a devout Catholic for much of his life; in his writing he has the enviable ability to rip the church to shreds with subtle, accurate criticisms while simultaneously wholly believing in it and holding it up as the standard for humanity.

I keep turning over all sorts of complimentary adjectives—restless, engrossing, sublime—but none seem to do it justice. I'm no good at that anyway, but this is a book that really doesn't lend itself to a neat little anecdote that relates it to my life or politics. It is one of the few books I have ever read that stands up purely on it's own as art.

Which beats the hell out of Mad Max, eh?

Number Eight:
Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Director's Cut
By Jhonen Vasquez

No doubt you take one look at the picture to the right and think, “aww—that's so cute! The teenagers are handling their angst issues by identifying with a young man who disembowels people with hack saws!”

And I certainly can't deny that there's some of that going on. There's a whole webring of Johnny fansites out there, and most of them are—surprise!—teen angsty.

But Johnny is a bit more in the Dr. Strangelove vein, standing out as sharp-edged cultural criticism. Johnny engages in deep philosophical debates with his alter egos (a floating bunny head and some talking Styrofoam Pillsbury doughboys) and he laments the shallow, exploitative society he lives in. He laments that people trivialize violence and wallow in their own worst qualities, especially when there are people—like Johnny—who engage in violent acts for the much more important reason that they are insane.

The characters in Johnny span the gauntlet, representing every imaginable member of the human family—just so long as they're the kind of person who'd hang around with the artistic or pseudo-artistic crowd in a second-rate metropolis.

Being raised in Salt Lake, I found some of these people a bit familiar.

I wondered which one I was. Quizilla told me:

What Johnny the Homicidal Maniac character are you?

Number Nine:
Harfmul to Minors:
The Perils of Protecting Children from Sex
By Judith Levine

This is a book I've read before, but it's also the only book I have that has it's own Wikipedia entry! (Actually, it's not.) The online encyclopedia tells us that

“In the book, Levine lambasts US laws concerning child pornography, statutory rape, and abortion for minors. It also analyzes abstinence only sex education, which Levine considers counter-productive and dangerous.

“Because of its controversial nature and content, it was nearly impossible for Levine to find a publisher—one prospective publisher even called it "radioactive." University of Minnesota Press eventually agreed to publish the book, despite cries of outrage from the right wing of Minnesota's political establishment.

“It became famous after it won the Los Angeles Times Book Award. Conservatives such as Joe Scarborough and Robert Knight inaccurately accused Levine of promoting pedophilia for her suggestion that the US adopt statutory rape laws similar to those in the Netherlands. Some demanded the book be removed from libraries.”

Well, Levine doesn't quite promote pedophilia. What she does is something that strikes quite a few people as much more dangerous. In her words, she is an “an advocate for pleasure.” In other words she believes people should be happy. That is being radical. Not just a political radical, but a spiritual radical. Now, I won't go to deep into the controversy here. But I'll say three things.

First, if you have time, do go a bit deeper into the controversy and read this article. Better yet, read the book.

Second, that article is home to the best example of everything that's wrong with American politics and culture today. And it's just one sentence:

He calls the book "very evil", although he admits he hasn't read it.

Third, believing people deserve to be happy is one of those world-changing ideals. It's also my heritage: the phrase “spiritual radical” is something I first heard used to describe my grandmother.

It's simple. People deserve to be happy. But trying to help even a few more people understand that is a lifetime's work.

Post a Comment