In the Critics this week

Jonathan Lethem on Philip Roth and Steven Poole on David Hendy's latest book.

In the Critics section of this week’s New Statesman, American novelist Jonathan Lethem pays tribute to Philip Roth, who turns 80 this month. Reading Roth as a young man, Lethem writes, illuminated “something aggravated and torrential in my voice” – something specifically Jewish. “As Roth points out, the books aren’t Jewish because they have Jews in them. The books are Jewish in how they won’t shut up or cease contradicting themselves, they’re Jewish in the way they’re sprung both from harangue and from defence against harangue, they’re Jewishly ruminative and provocative.”

In Books, Steven Poole reviews David Hendy’s Noise: a Human History of Sound and Listening. “Hendy’s emphasis is on championing noise as a vehicle of sociality,” writes Poole. Hendy devotes a chapter to the noise of stadium crowds but, Poole notes, “does not mention the most notorious instrument of sporting mob dictatorship. I mean the vuvuzela, the plastic horn whose aggregated cacophonous buzz-farting ruined the auditory atmosphere of the 2010 World Cup”.

Also in Books: Alwyn W Turner reviews Mod: a Very British Style by Richard Weight (“Born in the affluence of Harold Macmillan’s Britain, mod was a cross-class coalition of youth, bringing together the art school and the assembly line …”); Lucy Wadham reviews Marcela Iacub’s novelised “memoir” of her affair with Dominique Strauss-Kahn (“There are moments when I feel that as long as I live … France will remain forever a mystery to me. Reading Marcela Iacub’s books Belle et bête … was one such moment”); Sarah Churchwell reviews O My America! Second Acts in a New World by Sara Wheeler (“Wheeler wants to claim more significance for these women than perhaps they merit”).

Elsewhere in the Critics: Ryan Gilbey reviews Danny Boyle’s Trance and Ken Loach’s The Spirit of ’45 (“That The Spirit of ’45 survives its simplifications is due to the sincerity and urgency of Loach’s argument. And, regrettably, to its pertinence”); Antonia Quirke listens to the first episode of David Hendy’s 30-part history of noise on Radio 4 (“this sounds like the most sub-avant-garde and brilliant new programme on BBC radio”); Rachel Cooke is disappointed by the BBC’s adaptation of The Lady Vanishes, though she concedes that the performances are “universally lovely”; Ollie Brock visits an exhibition of the archive of the writer Roberto Bolano in Barcelona (“For true Bolanistas … the most interesting items will be glimpses of … the ‘possible books’ to come, the unpublished manuscripts …”); Kate Mossman reviews What About Now, the new album by Bon Jovi (“Hair metal … has had a bit of a reassessment in the past few years …”.)

PLUS: “King Vulture”, a poem by Joe Dunthorne, and Will Self’s Madness of Crowds.

 

Philip Roth photographed by Eric Thayer. (Photo: © Eric Thayer)
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Chuka Umunna: Why tolerance is not enough

Against the Trumpification of politics.

It’s still spring, yet 2016 already stands out as one of the ugliest years in modern British political history. It was fantastic to see Londoners choosing hope over fear in May, electing Sadiq Khan as our first Muslim mayor. But David Cameron, having shamelessly endorsed Zac Goldsmith’s dog-whistle campaign tactics, owes those young Muslims who have been put off politics by the slurs hurled at Khan an explanation. How does racial profiling and sectarian scaremongering fit into his One Nation vision for Britain?

Meanwhile, Boris Johnson, one of the best bets to succeed Cameron as our next prime minister, embarrassed Britain on the world stage with a racially charged allusion to Barack Obama’s Kenyan heritage. And my own party has been grappling with a swath of deeply disturbing revelations regarding the attitudes held by some on the left towards Israel and Jewish people. Sowing discord by stigmatising or scapegoating a single faith group or community is profoundly at odds with the British tradition of “tolerance”, but we can’t ignore that this year’s events are part of a rising trend of friction and factionalism.

Last year’s general election should have been a wake-up call. The political and cultural divides between people living in the north and south and urban and rural areas – as well as between working-class and metropolitan sensibilities – appear starker than ever. In May’s devolved elections, Scottish, Welsh and Northern Irish politics became yet more distinct – giving the impression of a kingdom coming apart at the seams. All the while, more and more voices in our national politics seek to pin the blame for the challenges facing our country on a single section of society, whether immigrants, Muslims or another group.

This trend stretches beyond our borders. From Ukip, the French Front National and Austria’s Freedom Party to Podemos in Spain and Italy’s Five Star Movement, new populist parties of the right and left are on the rise across Europe. In the United States, Bernie Sanders is tapping into the energy of Occupy Wall Street, while Donald Trump has emerged as the heir to the Tea Party: a poster boy for division and recrimination.

Trump’s rise should be a warning for us Brits. The New York Times commentator David Brooks has described his success as less indicative of the emergence of a new school of thought, or movement, and more of dissatisfaction with the status quo. Trump’s campaign has tapped into a complex cocktail of grievances, from the loss of manufacturing jobs in a globalised economy to rising inequality and raw anger felt by many white working-class Americans at demographic and cultural changes.

In the run-up to last year’s general election, as I travelled around the country, I was confronted time and time again with the reality that in the UK – just like in the US – people are afraid and angry because the world is changing in ways they fear are beyond their control. Where once they had believed that, if they worked hard, they would get ahead, too many Britons now feel that the system is rigged in favour of those born into opportunity and that those in power have abandoned them to a broken future. What it means to be British seems to have shifted around them, triggering a crisis of solidarity.

We are at a crossroads and may face nothing less than the Trumpification of British politics. In an uncertain and changing world, it is all too easy to imagine that our problems are caused by those who are different from us.

If we wish to follow the fine example set by Londoners on 5 May and choose unity and empathy over division and blame, we must accept that simply “tolerating” one another will no longer do. There is an accusation built into the very word: what you are doing is “other” or “wrong”. As Britain has become more diverse, we have come to know each other less. This makes it harder to understand how people from different walks of life feel about the big issues.

I am a Labour member because I believe, as it says on our membership cards, that, by the strength of our common endeavour, we achieve more together than we do alone. In order to develop the bonds of trust required for this to become a reality, and for our communities to flourish and our democracy to deliver for everyone, we must build a society in which people from all backgrounds actually get to know one another and lead interconnected lives. In this sense, “One Nation” – the land over which all parties seek purchase – should become more than a platitude. It should become a way of life.

Chuka Umunna is Labour MP for Streatham.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad