Deaths and Dragons

Norman Mailer's passing provokes outpourings of praise and condemnation in equal measure

Mailer Makes his Exit

The week in the Arts began with a splurge of tributes and opinion pieces marking the death of Norman Mailer. The majority of obits were respectful but seemed unsure how to deal with the controversy he engendered, both in his fiction and in his personal life. Although he was praised by some as a brilliant and influential practitioner of the New Journalism, Roger Kimball offered a hatchet job of a man he characterised as a ‘polyphiloprogenitive wife-stabber and booster of homicidal misfits’. For those on the left, Mailer could be an eloquent spokesperson (John Pilger quotes him extensively in this article, but his [brawling, feuding] and suspect views on women lost him the respect of many.

Mailer was an ambitious, ballsy and divisive figure (with even the outspoken Christopher Hitchens confessing to being in awe of his chutzpah), yet many great writers have led controversial lives - are they, like ex-Presidents, entitled to somewhat idealised memorials?. Does the best of the writing outweigh the worst of the life? Or are the two inseparable?

Related

NS Review of Mailer’s final work The Castle in the Forest

The New York Times on Mailer’s life and work

An early review of The Naked and the Dead

A provocative interview with Mailer from the NS archive

Blockbuster Politics

This week saw the release of the first big blockbuster of this festive season. Beowulf, Robert Zemeckis’s motion-captured take on the old English poem, stars a digitally enhanced Ray Winstone as the eponymous Geat and Angelina Jolie as Grendel’s yummy mummy. The original text, heavy on honour and smiting, could be said to offer an idealised portrait of conflict but early reviews have suggested that Zemeckis is more interested in portraying his hero as a flawed and fallible individual. As such, does the film have anything to tell us about Western attitudes to war, valour and honour in the political climate of 2007?

Today’s film students, and even a smattering of political commentators, are happy to write on topics like the relationship of the Star Wars series to the Vietnam War. Will the students of the future be reading War on Terror analogies into Beowulf, and this winter’s other big film, the already controversial Golden Compass? Or is Beowulf really just about a man, a monster and a whopping great dragon? You can judge for yourself - it’s in cinemas now.

Related:

A comprehensive online overview of war films

Terry Eagleton on Seamus Heaney’s translation of Beowulf

Salman Rushdie on war and film

An upcoming talk withPhilip Pullman

NS Film Editor Ryan Gilbey on the cinema of the Iraq war

Websites for political thrillers A Mighty Heart and Lions for Lambs

Meanwhile across the pond…

November the 14th saw another glitzy literary prize ceremony take place, with the 58th National Book Awards being held in Manhattan. The NBA for fiction went to Denis Johnson’s Tree of Smoke, a Vietnam-set novel which was acclaimed by our reviewer and Tim Weiner scooped the non-fiction gong with his damning history of the CIA Legacy of Ashes. The novelist and essayist Joan Dideon was awarded the prestigious Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters.

You can check out the full list of contenders and winners and decide if you think anyone was cheated here. It may be worth noting that the NBA unfortunately shares its acronym with the National Basketball Association (a bit like if the Booker Prize started referring to itself as The FA), so Google users may wish to search using the award’s full title.

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Social media tome #Republic questions the wisdom of crowds

Cass R Sunstein explores how insulation pushes groups towards more extreme opinions.

Cass Sunstein, one of the leading public intellectuals in the United States and a former Obama administration official, has worried and written for more than 15 years about the effects of the internet and digital communications on democracy. This book, his third on the subject, tackles social media.

The heart of his argument lies in the cumulative, collective effect of what individuals do online. Networking, shopping, dating and activism are all transformed by the engine of opportunity that is the internet. But those new links and choices produce a malign side effect: “filter bubbles”, inside which like-minded people shut themselves off from opinions that might challenge their assumptions. Insulation pushes groups towards more extreme opinions.

Sunstein’s organising principle is the ­difference between consumer and political sovereignty. The former promotes individual choice despite its possible consequences; the latter takes into account the needs of society as a whole. His inspiration is Jane Jacobs, the historian of US cities who celebrated, in poetic language, the benign and enriching effect on democracy of random encounters between citizens on pavements and in parks. How do we now reverse or dilute the polarisation driven by Facebook and Twitter?

The solutions Sunstein proposes for this very difficult problem are oddly tentative: websites stocked with challenging ideas and deliberative debates, voluntary self-regulation and “serendipity buttons”. He rightly stresses transparency: we know far too little about the algorithms that sift news for our attention on the networks. Facebook has talked about trying to show news that is “engaging” and “interesting”, without ever engaging in detailed public discussion of what these words mean. The disclosure requirements for social networks “require consideration”, Sunstein writes, without saying whether Facebook might have to be required legally to explain precisely how it routes news to almost two billion users.

Sunstein’s most interesting arguments are myth-busters. He questions the “wisdom of crowds”, while refraining from pointing out directly that the single strongest argument against this idea is the inequality of opinions. Not all opinions are equally valuable. He warily suggests what only a very few American voices have so far dared to say: that the First Amendment to the constitution, which guarantees a free press, should not be treated – as the courts have recently tended to do – as an equally strong protection for the freedom of all speech.

Sunstein is nostalgic for the media system and regulation of the past. I spent years working for a daily “general-interest” newspaper (the Times) and regret the decline of those outlets as much as he does, yet there is no reversing the technological and economic changes that have undermined them. It might have been a mistake to deregulate television in the United States, and killing the “fairness doctrine” might have had unforeseen effects, but that does not deal with the dilemmas thrown up by WhatsApp or Weibo, the Chinese version of Twitter.

Users of these platforms face the problem of managing abundance. Writers such as Sunstein imply that people who lock themselves in filter bubbles are deplorably unable to break out of their informational isolation. But we all now live in bubbles that we design to make sense of the torrent of information flowing through our phones. Better-designed, heterogeneous bubbles include the unexpected and the challenging.

Yet the problem lies deeper than the quality of your bubble. Polarised societies can no longer agree on how to recognise the truth. Filter bubbles play a part, but so do a preference for emotion over reason, attacks on scientific fact from religion, decades of public emphasis on self-fulfilment, and a belief that political elites are stagnant and corrupt. Like many journalists, Sunstein treats the problem of a malfunctioning communications system as a supply-side matter: the information being generated and distributed ought to be better.

In the case of fake news, that is indisputable. But there is also a demand-side problem, one that hinges on the motives of those consuming information. If, inside their bubbles, people are not curious about alternative opinions, are indifferent to critical thinking and prefer stoking their dislike – of, say, Hillary Clinton – will they have even the slightest interest in venturing outside their comfort zone? Do we have a right to ignore the views of others, or an obligation to square up to them? Millions of Americans believe that one of the most important guarantees in their constitution is the right to be left alone – and that includes being left alone by the New York Times.

Sunstein does not venture far into this territory. He only hints that if we worry about what people know, we must also worry about what kinds of societies we build. Globalisation has reshaped communities, dismantling some and building others online, but the net effect has been to reduce deliberation and increase a tendency to press the “Like” button, or loathe opponents you can’t see or hear. The ability to debate civilly and well may depend on complex social chemistry and many ingredients – elite expertise, education, critical thinking, culture, law – but we need to be thinking about the best recipes. 

George Brock is the author of “Out of Print: Newspapers, Journalism and the Business of News in the Digital Age” (Kogan Page)

#Republic: Divided Democracy in the Age of Social Media
Cass R Sunstein
Princeton University Press, 328pp, £24.95​

George Brock is a former managing editor of The Times who is now head of journalism at City University in London.

This article first appeared in the 22 June 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The zombie PM

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