Durham Review of Books Literature, Politics & Culture
Issue 02 -‐ December 1st 2014 -‐ £4
Myth
EDITORIAL Readers, welcome to the second issue of the Durham Review of Books. Our writers have taken the basic idea of the mythic and explored it in a selection of original articles, ranging from the nature of monogamy to the foundational trouble behind capitalist ideologies. This issue also introduces our guest writer spots, filled this time by contributors from the universities of Birmingham and Cambridge. We also encourage you to turn to page 27 to find out how you can get involved with the magazine, and read an update of the DRB Society’s progress. The third issue will be themed around the metropole, incorporating cities, populations and urbanity. This is a less abstract topic than our previous ones, and we hope to see some insightful, challenging pieces a term down the line. We will open for article submissions in early January. We are also looking to fill other vacancies, namely those of cover artists and a publicity officer. If you have any comments about the articles in this issue, please write in, and we will include them on our brand new letters spread. We would love to receive anything between 200-300 words long. We hope you enjoy this issue! You can also access all of the articles at durhamreview.com. Isaac Turner, Nikki Motohashi and Ben Kirk Editors
This magazine’s contributors were Verity Rimmer, Ben Kirk, Nikki Motohashi, Harriet Walsh, Olivia Bell, Flavia Cahn, Dom Humphrey, Tom Priestner, Alex Williams and Ru Merritt. Many thanks also to Emma Walker, for the cover design, and Emily Sporik, our communications officer. Printed by printondemand.com using environmentally sustainable sources. Published independently in December 2014 by The DRB Society in Durham, UK.
CONTENTS Reassessing Capitalism: The Myth of Capitalist Virtue Flavia Cahn 'Take a look at yourself!':Facing up to the Harsh Reality of A Streetcar Named Desire Verity Rimmer Examining the Distinctions between ‘Mythology’ and ‘History’ in Antiquity and the Modern Day.
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[Long-form Essay]
Harriet Walsh The Myth of Monogamy as a Societal Necessity Nikki Motohashi The Woman in White: Myth-forging and the Artifice of Justice in Victorian Britain Dom Humphrey Liverpudlian Myths and Legends Olvia Bell The Myths and Truths of Hard Work and Talent Tom Priestner
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The Inconsistency of Religious Myths Ben Kirk
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The Myth of the Blitz Ru Merrit (Cambridge University)
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The Myth of Islamophobia: The Fine Line Between Criticism and Bigotry Alex Williams (Birmingham University)
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Reassessing Capitalism: The Myth of Capitalist Virtue .
BY FLAVIA CAHN
In October of 2011, the activist group ‘Occupy London’, in solidarity with the original Occupy movement in New York, set up camp outside St. Paul’s Cathedral demanding an end to economic inequality. Their slogan “Capitalism Isn’t Working” embodied a push for new economic solutions to address the current problems of social and economic inequality, as well as corporate greed and political power. But is this not in direct contrast to the apparent common conception of capitalism being the infallible economic system, where any individual willing to work hard can start a business, invest capital, make a profit, and compete in international markets? It is on this basis that I wish to explore why “the 99%”, as the Occupiers called themselves, were so disillusioned with capitalism. The premise of capitalism is the investment of money in the expectation of making a profit. It requires capital to invest, and scarcity to ensure demand. In this commodity economy, goods and services are bought and sold on the market. The processes of production and consumption are separated, which results in the alienation of workers from the fruits of the labour. As capitalism developed from the days when the first convoys were sent by the East India Trading Company to bring spices to Europe, the principle value of this economic system became to obtain the highest profit at the lowest possible cost. Market competition also became 3
crucial, resulting in a constant state of instability and fluctuation as companies fight to offer attractive prices to buyers, by exploiting labour or technology more efficiently and reducing their expenses. Capitalism is perceived by many to be a highly successful model of economics. From an evolutionary perspective, it has been argued to represent the highest stage of human social development so far – the pinnacle of organised society and civilisation, perfectly suited to the rational, economic individual who strives to constantly acquire personal wealth and maximise his own wellbeing. Capitalism has been said to act as an integrating force globally, incorporating many countries which previously relied on traditional economic structures into the global economy, where theoretically they now stand a better chance of obtaining wealth and power. Other merits of capitalism could include the opportunity for employment in poor or underdeveloped countries, as well as the freedom of choice for products and services, the growth and expansion of the economy, and the chance for anyone to improve their economic status by acquiring wealth through the investment of capital. While capitalism promises opportunity, choice, and affluence, in reality its status as the ultimate economic system is beginning to be challenged. The Occupy movement of 2011 voiced many problems we see in the world today, to do with exploitation, environmental pollution, and inequality, and showed us the ways in which they are linked to how capitalism functions. In order to reel in the highest possible profits, capitalism depends on reducing its expenses, and labour is generally the
economic systems are swamped; people are forced to be part of abusive working conditions just to make ends meet, and their quality of life decreases rapidly. And all this stands in contrast to the multinational corporations that expanded into these under-developed countries to begin with, who benefit from the lower labour costs and watch their bank balances rise. Capitalism has deepened the rift between the rich and the poor, and the results of this inequality are far reaching and yet little understood. “The Spirit Level” by Richard G. Wilkinson and Kate Pickett examines the consequences of inequality in depth. In a nutshell, Wilkinson and Pickett argue convincingly that inequality has devastating effects on both mental and physical health, community life and social cohesion across all strata of society, all of which can be reversed through increased equality.
biggest cost in production. The incessant clamour for cheap workers drives companies to source labour from countries where workers’ rights and protection is limited, perhaps even where labour unions do not exist, in an effort to lower the cost of labour as much as possible, by exploiting these peoples’ work capacity. Labour exploitation comes in various forms: extremely long hours, impossibly low wages, and the employment of cheap and unskilled workers such as children. High levels of unemployment allow employers to exert power over workers by using the demand for employment in their favour: salaries are lowered, benefits cut, working conditions neglected. In addition to the abuse of human rights, the environment too suffers degradation in the pursuit of profit, as sustainable practices and environmental protection efforts are laid aside to make way for the accumulation of wealth. Instead of covering the expenses of responsible waste removal or respecting the limited resources of our planet, capitalism has ravaged our natural environment all in the name of a higher profit. We can take the Deepwater Horizon oil spill of 2010 as an example. Authorities in the investigation noted that by failing to implement the required safety measures, British Petroleum most likely avoided significant costs. Although no causal relationship was made official between BP’s desire to save money and their decision to inadequately manage the oil well, the notion is not absurd and in fact depressingly likely.
The evidence above suggests that some of capitalism’s virtues can successfully be debunked, at least to some extent. Yet how is this particular economic system still able to claim dominance across the globe? Is greed inherent in human nature? Do we really have so little regard for other human lives and the health of our ecosystem, that we have chosen money to be superior to life? Socialism may have lost its credibility when it failed to withstand the pressures of capitalist society with the fall of the USSR, and while it is difficult to imagine a new economic system which would address all the concerns I have with capitalism (and highly unlikely that it will be implemented) it is important to consider that alternatives within capitalism do exist. Capitalism is manifested in various forms across the world. For example, Swedish capitalism differs from that exhibited in the USA by the degree of state involvement in citizen welfare and the regulation of corporate political power.
But perhaps even more importantly than all this, is capitalism’s capacity to create immense economic inequality. Despite what capitalism promises, entering the global economy often has disastrous consequences for countries. Traditional 4
Furthermore, humans through time have been successful in organising their economic lives through systems other than capitalism. In “The Original Affluent Society”, Marshall Sahlins argues that hunter-gatherer societies such as the Hazda or the !Kung are able to be ‘affluent’ due to the equilibrium they maintain between means and ends. Through limited needs, they are able to feel satisfied and avoid the concept of scarcity. Sahlins’ research supports that hunter-gatherers have more leisure time, do not consider the work they do to subsist a burden, and enjoy greater social equality. On the other hand, capitalism instills us with unlimited wants and a constant desire to consume, and therefore our means to satisfy these wants are limited, causing us to be acquisitive and compete endlessly for more wealth. Instead of seeing the rational, selfinterested and greedy individual as
something natural, we should understand that it is a cultural construction of our current political and economic environment. Of course, Sahlins’ work is not without criticism. Many have for instance argued that even the concept of ‘leisure’ time as separate from ‘work’ time is a Western cultural construction, and so cannot be used in an analysis of hunter-gatherer economies. However, it is worth considering that alternatives have existed, and continue to in some parts of the world. Instead of dreaming of abolishing capitalism, a product of centuries of historical processes and therefore difficult to dispose of, perhaps by combining elements of capitalism that promote more equality we can start to move towards a more sustainable economic system.
Further Reading John Gowdy: 'Hunter-Gatherers and the Mythology of the Market' [LIbcom] Will Hutton: 'Capitalism Simply Isn't Working and Here Are the Reasons Why' [The Guardian] M.D Sahlins: 'The Original Affluent Society' [Stone Age Economics] Richard G Wilkinson and Kate Pickett: 'The Spirit Level: Why Equality Is Better for Everyone'
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truths. I lack the page space to do justice here and now to this compelling play, which made a lasting impression upon me when I first read it, and of which there really are so many aspects worthy of discussion. It is therefore Blanche's delusion, and the way in which Williams juxtaposes it with Stanley's fierce insistence upon reality, which shall be my focus here.
'Take a look at yourself!': Facing up to the Harsh Reality of A Streetcar Named Desire BY VERITY RIMMER
Blanche constructs her personal myth out of desperation. She finds herself at a loss in the modern world and comes to depend upon the hospitality - if it can indeed be called that - of Stanley and her sister, Stella. An intensely nervous demeanour and obvious alcoholic tendencies establish Blanche from the outset as a threatened, volatile character. According to Williams' stage directions her 'delicate beauty must avoid a strong light'; the statement is hugely significant with regard to Blanche’s increasingly apparent vulnerability - her entire psyche, like her physical self, is fragile, but even more so is her sense of identity, given her refusal to see things as they are. Blanche’s veneer of innocence, youth and self-control is the stuff of myth, ready to dissolve upon close inspection.
Sixty-seven years on from the date of its original publication, Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire (1947) remains a powerful piece of drama that pulls no punches in shattering the illusions of character and audience alike. In writing the play, which traces the path of its protagonist, Blanche Dubois, towards psychological breakdown, Williams set out with a clear and resolute aim. He wished to expose what he described in one letter as the 'destructive power of society on the sensitive non-conformist individual'. And exposure is, in itself, a crucial theme in Streetcar. The play's plot, a hectic journey towards its shattering climax, is bent upon stripping Blanche of her carefully established fantasy and forcing her to confront the cold and hostile reality of what her situation has become.
As this veneer does dissolve, slowly but surely, and as the details of Blanche's rather more colourful past are brought to the surface, Williams' audience becomes aware of the complexity of her circumstances. Blanche is not what she claims to be, as Stanley so passionately argues, but she is nonetheless a victim, chewed up and spat out carelessly by the world. As Stella insists to Stanley, 'Nobody, nobody, was tender and trusting as [Blanche]...But people like you abused her, and forced her to change'. Myth or lie, Blanche's fantasy is the evidence of her tragic inability to cope. In a desperate bid for freedom, she considers that she 'ought to go [to the sky] on a rocket that never
Myth, our overarching theme here, is not manifest in Streetcar in its conventional sense, but in the delusional evasion of reality by which Blanche lives her life. Her deterioration is steady over the course of the play, simultaneous with her retreat further and further into fantasy, and away from reality. Conversely, though, her ultimate breakdown is triggered by the brutal deconstruction of this myth, by her antagonistic brother-in-law Stanley Kowalski. Thus Williams' stance is hard to pin down; he explores both sides of an eternal conflict between the common human dependence upon pipe-dreams, and the ultimate need to confront our own 6
comes down'. And in a sense, she does becoming so dependent upon her own pipe-dream that it consumes her, and she loses her sense of self entirely. Nor can we necessarily condemn Blanche for her disregard of truth - she pleads that it was 'Never inside, I didn't lie in my heart'. Arguably she does not neglect truth, but believes purely and wholeheartedly in what Christopher Holland describes in The English Review (April 2003) as 'another kind of truth; one that is subjective, ‘poetic’ and more forgiving of human failings'. The extent of her delusion is particularly, poignantly apparent during Blanche's imagined phone call to the millionaire Shep Huntleigh, whom she is convinced is going to appear as her knight in shining armour. The hopelessness of this is painfully apparent to all but her. Stanley, listening in, presents the plain reality as he sees it: 'There isn't a goddam thing but imagination!...And lies and conceit and tricks!'
the whole truth about Blanche; in the unforgiving light of his cynicism, she is ‘washed up like poison.’ Williams plays with his audience members’ own perceptions of myth and reality, as they attempt to decipher this hugely ambiguous piece of drama. Stanley is cast not simply as an evil brute, but as a very real, complicated human with, if not justification, then at least an explanation for his behaviour. Stanley’s hostility towards Blanche is rooted in his resentment of the fact that she is disturbing his lifestyle and his marriage; this makes it more difficult for us to make up our own minds about what we believe of Stanley. The first audiences of Elia Kazan’s original production of the play even reportedly cheered during the rape scene. When Blanche addresses Stanley as ‘Polack’, his retaliation reveals that she has insulted his pride; he declares that ‘I am not a Polack. People from Poland are Poles, not Polacks’, but that he himself is “a one hundred percent American, born and raised in the greatest country on earth and proud as hell of it, so don’t ever call me a Polack.’ Stanley’s sensitivity on this point humanises him. As Williams wrote, ‘Blanche must finally have the understanding and compassion of the audience’, but significantly this must be done “without creating a black-dyed villain in Stanley”. Moreover, Blanche's own interest in Stanley is evident, and she admits from the start that ‘I...flirted! Yes – I was flirting with your husband, Stella!’; this perhaps throws into question the extent to which Blanche is Stanley’s victim. Richard Law even proposed in the English Record that “Blanche initiated [the rape] through her combination of flirting and exhibitionism”. Stella herself hardly knows which truth she should believe; ultimately she dismisses Blanche 'because
It is Stanley's scornful dismissal of Blanche's delusion which provides such a powerful juxtaposition between the characters' opposing notions of myth and reality. He thrusts the unpleasant truth upon her: 'look at yourself! Take a look at yourself in that worn-out Mardi Gras outfit, rented for fifty cents from some ragpicker!'. He asks Blanche, perhaps cruelly, 'What queen do you think you are?' What follows is an adamant defence of Stanley's own ruthless search for truth: I've been on to you from the start! Not once did you pull any wool over this boy's eyes!’ Their contrasting ideologies are most apparent in Scene VII, when ‘Blanche is singing...a saccharine popular ballad which is used contrapuntally with Stanley’s speech’. Whilst Blanche sings that ‘it wouldn’t be make-believe If you believed in me!’, Stanley, paradoxically, unleashes on Stella 7
I couldn't believe her story and go on living with Stanley'. Eunice, the neighbour, agrees and tells Stella: 'Don't ever believe it. Life has got to go on.' Thus, Williams highlights people’s susceptibility to disregarding the truth when it becomes inconvenient.
what Miller described as its 'awful truthfulness' - in its presentation of Blanche’s psychological deterioration, accelerated by her violation at the hands of Stanley. Streetcar does not shirk from the truth. Williams, writing in the aftermath of the Second World War, claimed that he 'followed the developing tension and anger and violence of the world' in his work. He wrote also of a 'crying, almost screaming, need of a great worldwide human effort to know ourselves...that no man has a monopoly on right or virtue'. As Miller expressed it so well, Streetcar is 'a cry of pain; forgetting that is to forget the play.'
Though the realism that Stanley represents is harsh, it is, ultimately, necessary. Arthur Miller, Williams' contemporary, wrote that Marlon Brando, as the original Stanley in Kazan's iconic production, 'was a brute but he bore the truth’, and the truth is important when dealing with the subject matter of Streetcar. The play’s value is in
Further Reading Tennessee Williams: 'A Streetcar Named Desire' (with introduction by Arthur Miller) John S. Bak: 'Criticism on ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ [cercles.com] Christopher Holland: 'Stanley Kowalski: From Page to Performance' [business.highbeam.com]
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complex. With a dichotomy of ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’, it seems that it would be easy to distinguish what is ‘true’ and ‘not true’. But an arbitrary answer of, “Yes, it happened” or, “No, it didn’t” is hardly applicable in this context. So, why is a nuanced consideration of ‘fact’ applicable when considering the Trojan War, yet not applicable with the Peloponnesian War? What makes one more historically legitimate to the modern audience than the other?
Examining the Distinctions between ‘Mythology’ and ‘History’ in Antiquity and the Modern Day. BY HARRIET WALSH
[Long-form Essay] The myths of Ancient Greece and Rome have fascinated generations; scholars and school children alike. The poignant nature of ancient mythology, combined with the elementary human interest in the morbid and the brutal, inevitably created a selfperpetuating tradition which is valid and valuable in itself. The myths that are still discussed and remembered today are thousands of years old, and variations of these could be older still. Despite this topic being worthy of discussion in its own right, there is another which needs to be examined alongside it: history.
Perhaps the answer lies in how the ‘events’ were recorded. The Iliad, a brutal yet glorious epic poem, considered generally to have been composed by Homer the bard, featured the Trojan War (modern poetry is used very differently way to ancient poetry to convey very different things; Ancient poetry refers to epic oral traditional poetry, which was recited by rhapsodes at PanHellenic festivals to thousands of people). The Peloponnesian War, however, was documented by Thucydides, an Athenian general, and so his written ‘historia’ (inquiry) of it is often considered to be one of the first examples of historical writing, by modern standards. This idea of ‘poetry’ vs ‘history’ illustrates the more general conceptual distinction of ‘fiction’ and ‘fact’; by modern standards, poetry isn’t necessarily considered as valid a historical source as primary evidence or accounts. However, this distinction was not necessarily clear, or even a distinction at all, in antiquity. By Ancient Greek standards, saying if something did or didn’t happen on the basis of it being ‘fact’ or ‘fiction’ (i.e. ‘history’ or ‘poetry’), creates a false dichotomy. So, are the modern day readers allowing themselves enough scope to interpret the Ancient past when we create such mutually exclusive categories which were not present at the time?
For the modern reader, it would apparently be obvious that there is a clear distinction between ‘Greek myth’ and ‘Greek history’, just like there is a more general distinction between myth and history. So, it would be a fundamental error to confuse the ‘fact’ of the Peloponnesian War with the ‘fiction’ of the goddess Athena being born from Zeus’ head. For argument’s sake, let us take the above distinction for granted. Consider the Trojan War: is this fact or fiction? What about Helen of Troy, was she abducted, or did she run away with Paris, if so, what were her motives? This is not quite so simple to categorise. One could try to account for this by the blinding mists of time. This may be partly true, but surely there is something more fundamental and
The aim of this article is therefore to 9
illustrate the main distinctions between the definitions of history and myth in the Greek, Roman, and Modern eras. Even if we think that there actually is a distinction between fact and fiction on an ontological level, this ignores the fact that the ancients simply did not recognise this, and it is on this level that exploration is valuable.
of history and myth, is as follows: what they held closest to their hearts was a pair of proverbs inscribed on the Temple of Apollo at Delphi, the religious centre of the Ancient Greek world. “Know thyself”, and “nothing in excess”. These principles were shared by the entire Greek-speaking world, as shown by their position of prominence at Delphi.
Before this is illustrated, let us not forget that the mythology of Greece and Rome was not entertainment; it was religion, their way of life. Everything that they did, everything that they thought, was conducted in the shadow of myth. Mythology was a warning, it prevented men thinking that they were equal to or better than the gods (the cardinal sin of hubris). The power of mythology could be far greater than the modern reader could initially comprehend, and myth is made even more formidable by the weight of history behind it - the two go hand in hand.
“Know thyself” in the original Greek is 'γνῶθι σεαυτόν'. 'γνῶθι' carries strong connotations of the mind’s faculty of judgement, and therefore can be assumed to correlate with the modern concept of history and knowledge. Modern history relies upon judgement; historians deliberate and debate over what caused what and if anything caused anything, and what sources to trust and why – for modern historians it is simply not enough to just recite the alleged events of the past. The fact that this concept of judgement was so central to Greek daily life illustrates just how important it was to them.
It is also important to initially highlight the fact that the similarities and differences between the the concepts of ‘history’ and ‘myth’ in the ancient world are complex and multiple, and constantly vary between time periods and location. However, general observations can still be made about the development of both history and myth, and their eventual distinction. To begin our inquiry, it would be logical to start with the Greeks. It is impossible to underestimate the value of Ancient Greek culture and its impact upon the modern day; for a simple example, take the title of this very issue – Myth, from the Greek μῦθος (‘mythos’), and fundamental linguistic connections do not even begin to uncover the philosophical and political influences that the Greeks have had on modern Western thought and action. A fundamental illustration of the Greeks’ mentality, and so their blurred conceptions 10
However, “nothing in excess” seems to be contradictory to this apparent allegiance to the validity of history. As mentioned above, the sin of hubris was the worst a Greek could commit; their mythology is riddled by tales of mortals claiming equality to the gods, and suffering for it. This second proverb can therefore be interpreted as intrinsically linked to mythology; it was imperative for mortals to know their place in the wider cosmos. Therefore, it would seem that this second proverb values myth and religion, rather than ‘history’. The religious context in which the proverb was placed illustrates this appeal to mythology further, meanwhile highlighting the myth-charged context in which the prior proverb was also placed despite its strong connotations with the modern conception of ‘history’. This cross over is also evident in Herodotus, by and large considered to be the first ‘historian’. He focuses heavily on the concept of hubris, attributing it to the Persians (in particular
King Xerxes, who lead the second campaign against Greece in the Persian Wars), perhaps implying that this was part of the reason why the Persians failed. The above illustration of the overlap in nature and importance of history and myth in the ancient world can initially seem overwhelming; the aim of this article is not to negate the modern conception of ‘history’ or ‘myth’, nor to champion one over the other. The above evidence indicates that the binary conceptions of ‘history’ and ‘myth’ that the typical modern Western reader possesses are not the only tools to consider the past with, and that historically myth and history were not distinct for a long time. This highlights the difficulty of considering and analysing a culture so different from our own, even in the very way they defined and ordered the past, and so to understand their culture fully we have to consider it in these terms. Therefore, there was a lack of distinction between myth and history in the Ancient Greek World; they were intimately linked and impossible to truly separate in the minds of the Greeks. This is not to say that the Greeks didn’t value the past; there was a universal desire for fame, for being remembered forever, as it was the next best thing to being immortal. It was the context in which their name was remembered that would matter for us, in ‘myth’ or in ‘history’, but for them, there was only one context and that was the ‘past’. It would be valuable to compare the Greek consideration of myth and history to Roman culture. The Roman period of supremacy is considerably later than the origins of the Greeks. The Romans are of course distinct from the Greeks, but shared a variety of cultural practises and beliefs. It is clear from a variety of extant
primary evidence that a proportion of that which the Romans did or enjoyed was in some way connected to Greek culture. For example, the most relevant illustration of this is the similarity between the Greek and the Roman gods. The Olympian Gods of Greek mythology are almost identically copied into Roman mythology; Zeus and Jupiter, Hera and Juno, Athena and Minerva, Aphrodite and Venus. That the Romans valued Greek myth and religion to such an extent is telling about both the Greek and Roman cultures, their dependence upon myth itself, and how it affected their identities and therefore their histories. However, there was an increase in written tradition in Rome, including the development of different genres, i.e. biography, autobiography, and a further political development of ‘history’, as outlined by Mellor. This illustrates that myth and history were blurred in a slightly different way in Rome, but were blurred nonetheless; the distinction between myth and history had not yet been confirmed, despite having developed through new genres being established and written traditions growing. So, it is clear that myth and history are judged as completely different contexts by the ancient and the modern worlds. So, why are the definitions so different? Firstly, we can consider the aural tradition of the ancient world. The very development of the Greek language aimed for it to become smoother and more natural when spoken aloud, which directly lead to a development of aural tradition and public performance. Therefore, things weren’t written down; Homer was recited, dates weren’t recorded. The concept of a recorded ‘history’ simply didn’t exist in the Western hemisphere until Herodotus decided to write his 11
history of the Persian Wars. Aural tradition was also prevalent in Ancient Rome, despite the simultaneous development of written tradition. Finley argues that the Greeks simply lacked interest, and it is this which separates our cultures; we value the past and measure it in completely different ways. Also, we must not forget that we have the entire tradition of written history behind us; we are not at the beginning of the historic genre. Obviously, then, we are going to have different conceptions of history to those who lived without its very tradition. Therefore, the evidence above suggests that we can trace the origins of Western ancient ‘history’, and that in order for it to have its full value it we have to consider it within the context of ‘myth’. History as we know it today emerged from a culture, in the words of Finley, that was so “saturated with myth”, illustrating the intrinsic connections between the two. The idea that
different cultures look at the past differently may seem obvious at first, but it is only under close examination that we can truly begin to grasp just how significant these different perceptions of the past really are. The lack of distinction between history and myth in antiquity can now be considered as explanatory of the value of both history and myth in tandem, as a collective representation of the ancient ‘past’. We can only consider history to have degrees of ‘mythology’ through our own modern conceptions of ‘history’ and ‘myth’ being distinct. On the other hand, both myth and history were and still are valuable, but not necessarily distinct in the ancient world. Appreciating this alternative reality is vital in both culturally and linguistically understanding the cultures of the peoples who gave us myth in the first place.
Further Reading Homer: 'The Iliad' Herodotus: 'The Histories' Moses Finley: 'The Ancient Greeks' Ronald Mellor: 'The Roman Historians' Mark Cartwright: 'Greek Mythology' [ancient.eu] Thucydides: 'History of the Peloponnesian War'
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The Myth of Monogamy as a Societal Necessity BY NIKKI MOTOHASHI
As everyone who has ever had to field questions about their non-existent relationship will know, contemporary discourse still propagates the idea that monogamous coupledom is the dream to which we should all aspire. Yet the staggering number of marriages ending in divorce – 42% in England and Wales – begs the question of whether there is something inherently unnatural about striving for a faithful long-term partner. Adultery persists in every human society, despite the fact that in some countries, including Iran, Somalia and Saudi Arabia, the punishment for this transgression is stoning to death. Even in cases where there is no such barbaric penalty, unfaithful partners are gambling with their reputations, families, and careers. If monogamy were a comfortable and natural contract for human beings, then this associated level of risk would surely mean a much lower number of relationships ended by infidelity. One plausible explanation for humankind’s difficulty with long-term commitment is the drive for sexual variety as a means of omitting the possibility of incest. Given the dangerous genetic stagnation that the offspring of an incestuous relationship would produce, it follows that we would have evolved a strong aversion to that which is familiar. Unfortunately, in the case of many enduring couples, this may also mean the gradual and potentially destructive decline of sexual attraction. The expectation of lifetime monogamy therefore places an understandable strain
on relationships that continue far past the honeymoon stage, into the period where a spouse becomes as familiar as a sibling. Evidently, such a block on eroticism should not be taken as a personal affront; however, the unrealistic societal expectation that sexual attraction and monogamy come easily with true love often leads to heartache and confusion for all involved. The rapacious appetite of humankind for sex, comparative to the many species that only copulate during the intervals of female ovulation, further points towards the idea that being monogamous is not necessarily our natural inclination. In all of the animal kingdom, only one species other than humans can 'go at it' quite as often for non-reproductive reasons: our closest extant relative, bonobos, are famous for their high libidos, which see them having rampant polygamous sex in order to diffuse aggression, form closer bonds and – last but by no means least – give themselves pleasure. Despite our biological closeness as species, the infidelity of bonobos has left many anthropologists unwilling to link their behaviour to that of humans: time and again, they have prudishly turned our attention elsewhere, to the distantly related, anti-social, low-IQ, but monogamous gibbon, or – worse still – to the harems fought over by gorillas. In their book ‘Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What it Means for Modern Relationships’, Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha trace this ingrained societal predilection for monogamy back to the development of agriculture. The hunter-gatherers who populated the Earth prior to this, they argue, would have insisted on sharing almost everything as a means of ensuring that no single person ever went without. Hoarding or hiding food, in particular, would have been almost unforgiveable behaviour in these foraging societies, but sex was also a much 13
less possessive act. Certain present day tribes reflect a similar attitude. The matriarchal Mosuo people in northern China, for instance, are encouraged to engage in sexual relations with as many people as they want, and the offspring are the responsibility of the mother’s brothers as opposed to any biological father figure. Their proverbial saying, “women and men should not marry for love, for love is like the seasons – it comes and goes” illustrates the wisdom behind their unconventional lifestyle. For the Mosuo people, and many other polygamous tribes, remaining loyal to a single partner simply does not make sense: given that monogamy hands all paternal responsibility to one man, the resultant baby becomes much more vulnerable – a bi-parental upbringing means that if those parents die, the children will be left adrift. Contrastingly, if a female openly engages in sexual intercourse with multiple partners then all of these men will have a stake in the safe upbringing of her child, being uncertain as to whom it biologically belongs. Certainly, this safeguard has been rendered impossible in the modern, developed world, where paternal uncertainty is no longer an unresolvable question. Nevertheless, it suggests that even if a monogamous relationship does result in the successful raising of a child, it is not the only – or even the best - approach to parenting. Who could argue that
parents who attempt monogamy, fail, and bitterly separate are more conducive to a happy upbringing than parents who are openly ‘unfaithful’ to each other but remain together, raising their children in a free and comfortable environment? Ultimately, of course, people should make up their own minds regarding the type of relationship that will suit them best: following the advice of scientists, who may be manipulating their data in order to substantiate a certain conclusion, is in many ways no different from blindly following other third party bodies such as the clergy. Similarly, even if we have not evolved to find monogamy completely natural, it does not mean that it should not be attempted, or that it is futile – after all, it is not because of evolution that we wear clothes, or shoes, or condemn ourselves to monotonous desk jobs. Nevertheless, advancing contemporary understanding of our nuanced human sexuality is important in allowing people to move beyond religious and cultural mythologies concerning what we should be and how we should feel. Polemicising one way or another is never a solution, but if there is an inherent conflict between socially sanctioned romantic ideas and the inconvenient truths of sexual passion then those agonising over the mysterious loss of libido in their loving long-term relationships deserve to know.
Further Reading Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha: 'Sex at Dawn: How We Mate, Why We Stray, and What it Means for Modern Relationships’ Markus Jokela: 'Serial monogamy increases reproductive success in men but not in women' [huli.group.shef.ac.uk] Beverley Turner and Hannah Betts: 'Monogamy: are we really built to stay faithful?' [Telegraph]
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minus Hartright, assert: we perceive Sir Percival to be a ‘gentlemen’. He fits the stereotype. No further enquiry seems necessary. In what kind of society can myth-building be so easy? Indeed, Sir Percival constructed and maintained his false self with consummate ease: all it logistically required was an amendment to the marriage register in Knowlesbury Church. More importantly, however, he assumed the perceivable mannerisms and fashions associated with the aristocracy of the time. On uncovering the truth, Hartright proclaims: “my head turned giddy…the idea that he was not Sir Percival Glyde at all, that he had no more claim to the baronetcy and to Blackwater Park than the poorest labourer…had never once crossed my mind”.
The Woman in White: Myth-Forging and the Artifice of Justice in Victorian Britain BY DOM HUMPHREY
The title of ‘The Woman in White’ is a myth in itself: my attraction to Wilkie Collins’s novel did not stem from the mystery surrounding Anne Catherick, the woman in question. It lay, instead, in Collins’ playful balance between perception and reality, between myth and truth. Therefore, my focus will not be on the allure of the ‘first great sensation novel’ nor its successful contemporary reception, but, rather, on the Burkean idea that myths are integral to a functioning conservative society. I contend that the two mutually dependent conspiracies in the novel are sustained by deficiencies – moral and structural – in the social and legal systems within Victorian Britain. For the benefit of those unfamiliar with the plot (and do not mind me spoiling it), the two conspiracies, or myths, I am alluding to are Sir Percival’s creation of a fabricated aristocratic self, and the ‘death’ of Laura Farlie. The case I will focus on explicitly is the former, because it is in this instance that societal assumptions most clearly allowed the myth to gain indisputable credibility. Furthermore, I want to examine why the law was insufficient as an institution of exposure - instead of diffusing the smokescreen it forged a glass window in front of it.
In this revelation of Sir Percival’s deception, and more generally, Collins’s comments on post-enlightenment Britain are damning: it would not be overstatement to suggest that he is depicting a materialistic and vapid society. Mr Farlie, vacuously perverted, is surely the incarnation of a culture that has shut itself away; that has forgotten how to see. Those around Sir Percival do not question his veracity: they believe in his gestures, his written prose, his clothes. Sir Percival amounts to the virtual image behind the mirror, a self-styled myth. In this respect his relationship with Fosco is intriguing. If Percival is the reflection of a disingenuous society then Count Fosco is the refraction, or, to be more specific, Fosco sees how Victorian society operates and forges his unique path through it. This is what sustains the conspiracy surrounding Laura Farlie. Perhaps this is also why we are convinced by Percival’s undoing but are less dissatisfied with Fosco’s; certainly, the plot twist leading to Fosco’s demise comes across as a farcical and incompatible juncture from the preceding narrative. In Percival’s exposure, on the other hand, we see how easy it is to believe in what we perceive. In
The revelation that Sir Percival was born a bastard comes as a genuine surprise. The reader’s conviction that his secret must pertain to the ‘woman in white’ is totally unfounded. Indeed, we follow the exact same assumption that Collins’s narrators, 15
making the reader complicit in the myth, Collins shows us first-hand the danger of presupposition.
office of Law. Moreover, when Hartright discovers the copied register he does not confide in Mr Wansborough, leaving him entirely excluded from the from the resolution of the myth. The Law, therefore, is presented as a vehicle that serves the existing order to such an extent that it cannot even be used effectively against a mere spectre of that order. It is the bastion of conservatism; it will certainly not stand in opposition to a gentleman because society believes in the importance of gentlemanly honour, no matter how mythic its qualities.
So, what of the function of the Law in this context? Surely its primary function should have been to bring Sir Percival to justice, to myth-break? On this point, however, Collins is sceptical. Walter Hartright solves the case extra-judicially, whilst it is revealed that the lawyer Mr Wansborough has been sat on a copy of the real marriage register for years: the piece of evidence that had the capacity to destroy Sir Percival Glyde was therefore being kept safe in an
Further Reading Wilkie Collins: 'The Woman in White' Caleb Crain: 'In Praise of Spiders' [lrb.co.uk] 'The Public Face of Wilkie Collins – the collected letters' edited by W. Baker, A. Gasson, G. Law
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Liverpool district of Everton and became a tourist attraction for the area. One night, this nocturnal menace was seen hanging by his fingertips from St. Francis Xavier’s steeple in Everton. As the crowds filled the streets to see this spectacle, Jack let go, falling into the roads below. After this apparently suicidal cascade, rumours milled amidst the crowd about his probable death. However, the onlookers were quickly surprised to see SpringHeeled Jack leap up and run away from the leering mob of people. After that extraordinary performance, there were no more sightings of Spring-Heeled Jack for sixteen years.
Liverpudlian Myths and Legends BY OLIVIA BELL
As a Scouse Durham student I’m taking full advantage of this article to boast about some of my hometown’s great and mysterious tales. Liverpool, founded in 1207, is one of the oldest cities in the UK, and therefore rich with history. The hustle and bustle of this port city has welcomed many storytellers to entertain its locals with tales that have been passed down from generation to generation. Being from a long line of very proud Liverpudlians, I’ve been at the frontline of this sort of oral literature.
However, other mysterious figures were active around the city in the meantime. If you ever visit Liverpool’s city centre you may come across a church that is home to its own miniature Egyptian pyramid. This pyramid, known as Mackenzie’s tomb, is situated in St. Andrew’s Church, Rodney Street. Mackenzie was a well-known Scottish contractor, as well as an avid gambler. Towards the end of his life business was slow and Mackenzie used to stroll through the Liverpool streets at night as a “rag and bone man”, trying to support both his family and his gambling addiction to the best of his ability. One night, he knocked on the door of what appeared to be a kind, elderly woman. Mackenzie asked if the lady had anything she was willing to throw away; she politely declined but mentioned that she was in the middle of a game of cards and asked if he wanted to join. Having never refused a gambling offer, he was not about to do so now.
The legend that stands out the most for me is that of Spring-Heeled Jack, although admittedly Liverpool shares this wayward figure with Sheffield, Scotland and some parts of London. Spring-Heeled Jack was renowned for being able to leap as high as the rooftops – his name wasn’t very creative. He has been described as a devillike figure with clawed hands and fiery red eyes. In Liverpool, Spring-Heeled Jack carries a reputation for scaring people in the middle of the night by jumping down from the rooftops when they least expect it. Although this may sound like childish tomfoolery, he is particularly notorious for his dreadful attacks against women. With vicious stories of Jack leaping onto women, raping them and running off into the night as quick as a flash, this Victorian character was certainly an excellent way to scare children off the streets at night.
Mackenzie entered the house and the pair played card games all night, with him winning every single game. Finally, the old lady offered to make the bet a bit more interesting; if Mackenzie won he could
Spring-Heeled Jack was first sighted in Liverpool in 1904, throwing himself into a reservoir. He was a frequenter of the South 17
have every item in her house, and if she won she would get his soul. Laughing at the superstitious sensationalism of this wager, Mackenzie accepted. During the game he dropped a card. As he bent down to pick it up, he looked under the table and saw that this frail, little, old lady had the legs of a goat. He jolted upright to see that her face had morphed into that of the devil. Gleefully, his unmasked opponent slammed down his cards, revealing a full house and thus winning the game.
Another of Liverpool’s most visited tourist landmarks is St. Luke’s Church, known to the locals as The Bombed-Out Church. It is a shell of the building that it once was, having been attacked during the Blitz in the course of a service – a tragedy that killed 100 people. Today the church is used as a community centre, showing films and hosting music events. However, the churchyard of St. Luke’s is also home to a little, white girl who has been seen playing amongst the flowers. Many witnesses have assumed that this ghostly girl is just another of the many children who play there, but when she is spoken to, she talks about events from the 1940s, and she has also been reported to vanish in front of people’s eyes.
After this nightmarish ordeal, Mackenzie lived in constant fear. He told only his brother of the events of that night and asked him to keep his body safe after he died. When the day of his death came, therefore, his brother bypassed a traditional burial, in the hope that this would ensure the safety of Mackenzie’s soul from the grasp of the devil. His solution was the construction of a pyramid. Liverpudlian legend has it that inside this pyramid, Mackenzie is sat upright at a poker table with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a full house of cards in the other.
It’s easy to say that Liverpool is a city full of heritage. The Scouse people thrive on the culture of storytelling, and I hope that this tradition passes on to future generations, keeping Liverpool’s characters alive…well, at least in spirit.
Further Reading Sharon C. McGovern: 'The Legend of Spring-Heeled Jack' [thecobrasnose.com] Rob Gandy: 'Cheating the Devil' [forteantimes.com] Les Dennis: 'Exploring the Liver Bird’s Story' (Video)[news.bbc.co.uk]
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The Myths and Truths of Hard Work and Talent BY TOM PRIESTNER
My friend once shared the following idea with me - your ability (the composite of talent and hard work) is analogous to the amount of water you hold in a bucket: talent determines how big the bucket is and hard work dictates how much you fill it. The question that occurs to me in regards to this is how big the average ‘bucket’ would be or, to translate it back into real terms, how great a determinant talent is in success. This conundrum can be applied to many walkways and avenues of life, from academia to social skills and as I will largely focus on in this piece sporting prowess. When reading the autobiographies of successful sportspeople, you cannot help but be struck by the common strand linking such amazing men and women hard work. For instance, Michael Johnson, the holder of seemingly unfeasible world records in both the 200m and 400m sprints, explained that all the people he was competing against at the Olympics were just as talented as him; in the end, therefore, it came down to who wanted it most. That is not to say who was willing to push himself hardest on the day, as every man in the race would surely have given his all. The real question, therefore, is how hard each athlete worked six months before: whether they had the dedication to get up and train early in morning during the middle of winter or whether their self-discipline failed them in the face of such a challenge. Michael
Johnson cites the fact that he trained on Christmas Day as one of the sacrifices that may have been integral in gaining advantage over his competitors. He was willing to work harder than every other person, but he also admits that his lifestyle allowed him to achieve this: for instance, he could not have done it had he had a child at the time and, indeed, he retired just after his first child was born. There are countless other examples of top athletes with this incredible drive - many sportsmen and women who achieve what they do in defiance of what most people would believe possible. Chris Froome explained that when he was in boarding school in South Africa, rugby was the only sport they were allowed to play – or watch, for that matter. However, his determination to continue cycling, which he had started in Kenya, led him to wake up at 4:30am every morning to go on a four hour cycle in secret before school started. Even someone like Cristiano Ronaldo, who has a huge amount of talent, has achieved his level of success because of continual hard work. When he first came to the Premier League, he was physically not up to the challenge; recognising this, Ronaldo proceeded to go to the gym every night. He was so obstinate in this diligence that eventually the management had to shut the gym and place security outside to stop him overtraining. He is therefore a perfect example of someone who seemed to have it easy but in reality did not take his talent for granted, working hard to ensure that potential weaknesses in fact became strengths. Similarly, Rafael Nadal, who is naturally right handed, was taught by his coach and uncle, Toni, to use his left hand, as a means of giving him the edge when competing at higher levels. Surely it stands to reason that if one of the greatest tennis players ever can get to such a high level with his weaker hand then most 19
people could get to a reasonably good standard with their better hand?
does not mean killing yourself whenever you set out to try something - you will either overtrain or may focus too much on the wrong aspects of training (for example, a 200 metre runner needs to build up some endurance but would be foolish to attempt a Marathon every day). NN
Nevertheless, natural talents can clearly play a huge role. Usain Bolt seems to barely try, possessing a real hatred for training, alongside a well-known appetite for chicken nuggets, and frequent impromptu nights out in the Quad (his favourite night club in Kingston). However, it would seem that by some quirk of nature, Bolt simply has the perfect body size and shape for sprinting: his top speed makes him untouchable, despite the fact that he is not an exemplar in terms of sporting dedication. Arguably, therefore, some sports are exceptions to the general rule: certainly, practice will always see you become stronger but the improvement is greater when higher skill and endurance levels are necessary and lesser when natural physique plays more of a role in success. This latter case also means that it is pointless to pretend that people can do literally anything they put their minds to. Matthew Pincent, the 6’5’’, 110-kilo behemoth, was never destined to be a jockey so even if he had trained as hard as humanly possible, it is fair to assume that he would have failed to become very successful. It therefore takes a degree of intelligence in self-appraisal to be realistic about which sport you have the potential to excel in. If you are very small, you won’t make it as a rower; however you could make it as a cox. If you have appalling hand-eye coordination you'll struggle as a tennis player but may be a great cyclist. It is also important to recognise that hard work
I am not trying to say that everyone should find a sport they are suited to and try and conquer the Olympics – the necessary level of commitment to training clearly comes at a high price. However, the fact that hard work plays a considerable role in determining levels of success should be empowering: most people have the capacity to do great things if this is what they set their minds to. In fact, talent can be a hindrance to some: those who are not quite as talented will learn the power and importance of of hard work, something which people who can achieve things more easily may never come to truly appreciate. Matthew Pincent spoke of the additional drive of a second child: his view was that growing up with an older sibling causes you to “sharpen your elbows” and work harder in order to have the right to play with those who are more advanced in their learning. There are also similarities between sporting success and academic achievement when it comes to the correlation between hard work and results; however, this is a whole new debate. Ultimately, just do not let anybody other than you dictate what you can or cannot do – success and happiness will surely be the result.
Further Reading Matthew Syed: 'Bounce: The Myth of Talent and the Power of Practice' K. Anders Ericsson: 'Exceptional Memorisers: Made, not Born [TRENDS in Cognitive Science] Geoffrey Colvin: 'What it Takes to be Great' [archive.fortune.com]
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many things over the years. For example, many believe that the foundations of morality can be found in early religion, and certainly there are watermarks for all to see; some of the Ten Commandments remain as laws in today’s society. However, before we hail Christianity as the benevolent vessel upon which the Western world has progressed over the centuries, it is important to realise that we have literally no way of knowing what position we would be in if we lived in a society that had always been secular. We could have ended up far better, or far worse. Therefore I believe it is incorrect – or at the very least falsifiable – to claim that we would have no morality without religion. In any case, the moral code that we know today has shifted from the values that were prevalent in biblical times. For example, a few of the Commandments are certainly not seen as ‘laws’ and tend to fall by the wayside, such as ‘“Thou shalt have no graven images or likenesses of the lord”, and, sadly, “Honour thy father and thy mother”. Nevertheless, it is claimed by many, usually those most devout, that these rules for life should be adhered to.
The Inconsistency of Religious Myths BY BEN KIRK
In his 1973 book, The Phenomenon of Religion, Ninian Smart addresses myths in the religious sphere in a couple of notable ways. He discusses their ‘Focus’, that is to say what they are centred upon (for the most part, Jesus Christ), and also how mythic values and beliefs can help us to better understand the practice of religion. I say ‘religion’ as if I am referring to the general concept, when in actual fact I will be solely talking about Christianity in this essay; having been surrounded by it – if somewhat loosely – throughout my life, it is the only religion that I feel comfortable attempting to dissect. What I particularly wish to examine is the apparent disjunction between the treatment of parables and that of supposed judgements. On one hand, many corners of Christian thought suggest that the parables of the Bible should be taken merely metaphorically. However, this is often regurgitated together with the claim that the Ten Commandments and the myriad other biblical judgments which lie alongside those very same mythic beliefs and stories should be taken, quite literally, as gospel.
Now let us broaden our view slightly. Aside from the Commandments, there are many other areas of the Bible that set out prescriptive regulations for ways of living. These judgments are presented in the form of parables, and sit alongside other myths of the performance of miracles by the aforementioned ‘Focus’, Jesus Christ. It is here where we reach the inconsistency that concerns me. It might be hard to discover, at first. After all, the earlier point that the Commandments should be taken as satisfactory guidelines for behaviour does not seem unreasonable at all, especially concerning those moral orders such as ‘“Thou shalt not kill”’ or ‘“Thou shalt not steal”’. Similarly, the general acceptance that the myths involving miracles should indeed be seen as merely myths (i.e. no basis in fact) is pretty uncontroversial. The sticking point is the fact that these views are held in tandem, and usually without a
My aim is not to try and tear down Christianity by highlighting this relatively minor, yet unexplained discrepancy, nor is it to convert believers to a life of atheism. I am not even entirely sure if the foundations of my own argument are very strong. I would just like to inspire some reflective (and, dare I say it, philosophical) thought amongst those believers to whom this article will pertain. It is no secret that religion has given us
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thought as to the implications. For if we claim that one set of ‘myths’ are to be read as fiction, it is surely difficult to claim that a separate set of myths are valuable truths by which to guide our action. I may be countered here with the claim that the method of deduction becomes little more than a means to a profitable end, when persuasive conclusions are drawn. I would instead argue that a questionable method throws even the most supposedly watertight theories into the realm of uncertainty. We must remember that the same intellectual spirit infuses the two disparate sets of myths, the same form of somewhat warped ratiocination. The very same line of thinking, no less, which condemned everything from homosexuality to wearing
clothes woven of different cloth. The question I wish to raise at the end of all this is: what makes one set of mythic conclusions perfectly acceptable in today’s society, and the other set condemned as barbaric and contemptible? If they were both inspired by, essentially, the same deity, one who people claim to be omnipotent, omniscient and omnibenevolent, then why is it that those who believe in him feel it is acceptable to challenge his divine judgement by picking and choosing which of His teachings they obey? To end on an unanswered question is considered bad practice. However, as I explicated earlier, I merely hope that this essay prompts a certain few to ask a question of themselves, one which may not have been posed to them before.
Further Reading Ninian Smart: 'The Phenomenon of Religion' Eleonore Stump: 'Petitionary Prayer' in 'Philosophy of Religion: The Big Questions' (edited by Stump and Murray) William Wainwright: 'Religion and Morality (Pt. 3)'
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The Myth of the Blitz BY RU MERRITT
[Guest Writer from Cambridge University] When we consider the Second World War and its aftermath, we hold in our heads the image of a ‘people’s war’, which led to monumental social changes. Whilst such ideas are at least founded in reality, our perspective is largely distorted by the ‘Myth of the Blitz’, a phenomenon that has led to exaggerated notions of class levelling and gender equality. Moreover, significant aspects of society that fail to adhere to this national image – for instance the continuation and accentuation of racism – have been excluded from the standard narrative, leading to a partisan, misleading impression of post-war Britain. On the other hand, the popularisation of such a myth is understandable as a coping mechanism for the horrors of war – living through such destruction left people seeking positive progress. Therefore, although such ideas of the Blitz and its effects cannot be considered completely historically accurate, they do provide an interesting picture of how both government and population reacted to the aftermath of war. Propaganda in the late 1940s worked hard to encourage the idea of a united nation brought together by shared experience, sacrifice and jingoist confidence. George Orwell was amongst those who suggested that war was a levelling device for entrenched class hierarchy in Britain, allowing people to put aside their differences and come together collectively to defend the nation. This repeated rhetoric of wartime equality and unity became commonplace; however, it has 23
done much to mask the considerable social divisions which continued unresolved during this period and beyond. In fact, it is possible to argue that far from being fundamentally overcome during the war, such divisions deepened: despite wage rises, half of all incomes were still below taxable levels in 1950 – and this is not even taking into account the fact that many working women and children still remained invisible in statistical data. Furthermore, high levels of unemployment and underemployment continued, partly due to continued prejudices surrounding the hiring of older workers and women. In view of such evidence, the idea that mass war results in a levelling of social class differences is a gross exaggeration, in monetary terms at least. The ‘Myth of the Blitz’ not only exaggerates the extent of change during wartime, but also overemphasises the permanency of the social change that occurred. As with the effects of war on class, many of the changes in the position of women were relatively short-lived, thus making claims of female emancipation largely illusory. In many cases, particularly for those women who became hostess to evacuees, traditional gender roles were reinforced, whilst even those who entered industrial work found that they were paid significantly less than their male counterparts. Although it is true that at the peak of female mobilisation in 1943 almost as many women were listed as full-time employees of industrial workforces as there were full-time housewives, many found that they were likely to be dismissed after the war itself had finished. Whilst it is fair to accept that war brought about a strong necessity for change, it is therefore difficult to argue that it was as revolutionary or long lasting as many have previously heralded it as being.
Aside from exaggerating positive post-war societal development, the ‘Myth of the Blitz’ disseminated by late 1940s propaganda omitted certain less appealing changes in social consciousness. Of notable mention is the continuity and growth of racial tension in Britain during and beyond the wartime years: the image of national unity, and of British racial tolerance linked to imperial relations, is fundamentally undermined by the increased hostility towards immigrants in this period. There are cases of ethnic groups such as West Indians being banned from pub entry: by 1944, some regions of the country, for instance Liverpool, were home to multiple restaurants and dance halls closed to the non-white population. Similarly, the Women’s Land Army refused to accept applications from women of colour. Of course, racism was hardly a new phenomenon brought about by the war; however, such evidence contradicts the essential messages of increased equality proliferated by the propaganda of governmental bodies such as the British Colonial Office. The mass of evidence undermining the progress celebrated by those who mythologised the ‘people’s war’ and the Blitz demonstrates the general inaccuracy of such complimentary portrayals of 1940s Britain. Nevertheless, the extent to which such ideas have infiltrated popular culture
makes them significant in any case. A prominent example of this indoctrination would be cinema, the rising dominance of which made it a crucial tool for government in broadcasting wartime propaganda. In most films of the period taking the War as their subject, the joining together of the people to form a socially equal force mirrors representations of political cooperation in the British government. For instance, Ealing Studio’s popular 1943 film ‘The Bells Go Down’ is a tribute to the solidarity of not just those engaged in service, but the British people as a whole. Its success and influence is testament to the popularity of these rosy portrayals of British collaboration and collective power. Certainly, it is easy to see why the wartime and post-war governments deemed such myths crucial: fostering a common sense of identity amongst British people was an important means of keeping up morale through and after the bloodshed. Within such context of their origins, the exaggerated ideas of societal progress serve a clear purpose; however, we cannot let them affect our reflective understanding of this period. The benefit of hindsight allows us to identify the fallacies around which the myths of the Blitz and the ‘people’s war’ evolved, and therefore opens up the field for establishing much more realistic and inclusive views of post-war Britain.
Further Reading Angus Calder: 'The Myth of the Blitz' Stephen Inwood: 'A History of London' 'World War II: Britain – The Home Front' [histclo.com]
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The Myth of Islamophobia: The Fine Line Between Criticism and Bigotry BY ALEX WILLIAMS
[Guest Writer from Birmingham University] 2014 has been a year marred by the actions of religious fanaticism and fundamentalism. The conflict in Gaza, as well as the formation of the Islamic state, has reminded an already distrustful world just how volatile and dangerous literal interpretations of religious doctrine can be. In response to the violence, there has been a lot of criticism aimed towards the Middle East region, with the Muslim world coming under particular scrutiny. Islamophobia, in western society, is not something particularly new. Since September 11th 2001, right-wing pressure groups like the TEA party in America and the EDL here in the UK have taken a vehement stance against the Muslim world (and, frankly, anyone who isn’t a white native). However, Islamophobia is no longer in the periphery of our society: as the strength of IS grows day-to-day, Islam is permanently under the omnipresent gaze of western media. As a culture, we need to define what it exactly means to be Islamophobic, and address the ways in which we criticize religion, without caricaturing the people who hold those beliefs. The Oxford English Dictionary defines Islamophobia as the following; ‘Intense dislike or fear of Islam, esp. as a political force; hostility or prejudice towards 25
Muslims.’ After reading that definition, most people, (I hope), would feel that this definition does not apply to them, that they neither have an irrational fear of the religion of Islam, nor openly discriminate against the Muslims who practice it. The problem, however, lies in how quick the western world is to generalise predominantly Muslim countries (countries whose population is majority Muslims). For example, television networks such as CNN ask their audience to poll on questions as condescending as ‘Is Islam a violent Religion?’ There are 1.6 billion Muslims living in over 150 countries world wide: it is utterly impossible to categorise them so crudely into black and white subdivisions, especially when the subject is as divisive as the violence of the very institution that governs their moral and spiritual barometer. Admittedly, as in any religion, Islam has its share of extremists. Jihadists do exist in this world, but it is hardly accurate to assume that every single Muslim believes in the concept of martyrdom, just as it would be unfair to assume that every Catholic priest has paedophilic tendencies. The simplicity is what undermines the validity of CNN’s question. They pigeonhole Islam as either violent, or non-violent. If they had pointed to areas of the Qur’an where Muhammad calls for Muslims ‘to fight in the name of religion those who fight against you’ and asked; “does this passage have any relevance in 21st century society?” then that would be fair question to ask. Instead, they simplify Islam, grouping it all together, and then ask the American public to decide whether an entire religion and all its teachings are inherently violent
or not. To put it another way, can you imagine the uproar if CNN put out a poll next week asking ‘Is the Westboro Baptist Church an accurate reflection of the Christian faith?’ So why do we ask such questions of Islam? I am not for a second suggesting, however, that Islam is without fault or is impervious to criticism; far from it. I have many of my own reservations about Islam as a faith, which, if I were to go into, would make for a far larger essay. Indeed, I believe wholeheartedly that it is just as strong a constitutional right that we are allowed to criticise ideas of faith, as it is that we protect those who wish to practise them. One of the truly great things about our culture is that we can openly discuss any subject matter or issue, and not be reprimanded for holding any opinion, so long as it does not inspire or incite hatred. We must, therefore, be careful and specific when we criticise Islam, and be absolutely certain we know exactly what we mean by it. As an example, a popularly held prejudice often reiterated in western society is that women are mistreated or even subjugated in Muslim countries. Whilst this can be said of Saudi Arabia or Pakistan, it is not a common theme across all Muslim nations. For instance, there have been 7 female heads of state in Muslim majority countries, and there has only been one in America, Sweden, Italy, Japan Russia and the United Kingdom combined. It is these types of generalisations that we often associate with Islam that we must seek
to avoid. We are far too vague far too often in our criticisms of Islam, which, if we are not careful, will result in a cesspit of hatred and bigotry towards Muslims and their ideology. One one hand, if you were to say, 'I disagree with the stoning of women in Pakistan', that would be a perfectly accurate critique of Pakistan, and you would be perfectly entitled to state that it is a form of punishment that has no place in the 21st century. However to say that the treatment of women was a problem of the whole Islamic faith would be empirically incorrect. As a society we are much too quick to jump onto the Islamophobic bandwagon, because it is far too easy for us to do so. Undeniably, a fine line appears between criticism and bigotry. We must strive to be mindful, as a society, that we don’t just lambaste and denounce such a huge faction of our national and international community. This does not mean that we should not speak up in the face of terror and confront evil at every opportunity. Of course, we must have these conversations. We must be allowed to talk, assess and criticise in order to improve and become a more refined world. We just have to be aware of the dangers that come with generalising and stereotyping. We must speak with sensitivity and specificity, be civilised and sophisticated in our opinions. Only then will we ever move forward together as a society.
Further Reading Douglas Murray: 'How can Jews oppose Muslim anti-Semitism without being ‘Islamophobic’?' [blogs.spectator.co.uk] Erik Bleich: 'What Is Islamophobia and How Much Is There? Theorizing and Measuring an Emerging Comparative Concept' [middlebury.edu]
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If you’re involved with the DRB as a writer, staff associate or editor, you qualify as a member of the society. It’s completely free of charge. Benefits of this include: - Your work published in the magazine, and online - Cheap access to our numerous socials and events with a free +1 - Huge discounts on purchases of physical issues VACANCIES Publicity Officer: The DRB editorial team would like to expand the current readership and reach of the magazine. You must have a good knowledge of the Durham college infrastructure and a willingness to work around the city and online. You will be heavily involved in producing the initial plan for publicity. To apply: benjamin.kirk@durham.ac.uk with your CV Writers: We are looking for a huge quantity of writers for future issues, so please get in touch if you have an original essay idea. The theme for our next issue is the metropole (cities and urbanity) but we welcome any ideas, as they may be queued for later editions. To apply: i.j.turner@durham.ac.uk with your article idea Cover & Graphics Artists: To design future covers and layouts for the magazine. Please get in touch to discuss your desired level of commitment. To apply: n.a.motohashi@durham.ac.uk with a sample of your art/design portfolio SOCIETY UPDATE A considerable amount has happened within the DRB Society this term. The Launch Social was well attended by writers of the first issue, and friends of the magazine. By the time of this magazine’s release, we will also have enjoyed the joint Christmas event and celebration of Issue 2, at a local Durham restaurant. We have a growing number of subscribers to the DRB, and a physical copy of each future release will be stored in Durham University Library’s archives. We have also been featured in the Northern Echo. Thank you to all contributors, as without you none of this would have been possible. Social details can be found by joining our Facebook page, at fb.com/groups/durhamreview
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