Where can buy Cultural perspectives on youth justice connecting theory policy and international prac
Cultural Perspectives on Youth Justice
Connecting Theory Policy and International Practice 1st Edition Elaine Arnull
Visit to download the full and correct content document: https://textbookfull.com/product/cultural-perspectives-on-youth-justice-connecting-the ory-policy-and-international-practice-1st-edition-elaine-arnull/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant download maybe you interests ...
Connecting Arts and Place: Cultural Policy and American Cities Eleonora Redaelli
The author(s) has/have asserted their right(s) to be identified as the author(s) of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature The registered company is Macmillan Publishers Ltd. London
Notes on Contributors
Elaine Arnull is a Reader in Social Policy and Social Work at Nottingham Trent University, UK. Her work has been concerned with the experiences of those affected by the Youth Justice System, Criminal Justice System and other social policy systems and includes large-scale international and national studies. Her current work is focused on girls and young people and the narrative voice.
Dalibor Dolezal is Assistant Professor at the Faculty of Education and Rehabilitation Sciences, Department of Criminology, University of Zagreb. She is also a qualified social pedagogue.
Darrell Fox is Assistant Professor of Social Work at the University of the Fraser Valley, Canada. He is a qualified social worker and has many years’ experience with the youth justice systems of the UK and Canada. He is an expert in restorative justice approaches in both jurisdictions.
Judith Ryder is Associate Professor of Sociology and Anthropology at St John’s University, New York, USA. She specialises in gender and family violence, and has a broad background in criminology, with a concentration on violence and trauma among adolescents. Her work principally draws on psychosocial and feminist theoretical frameworks.
Nicamil K. Sanchez is Assistant Professor of Social Work at the University of the Philippines College of Social Work and Community Development, the Philippines. He is a registered social worker in the Philippines and a qualified social worker in Australia and the UK. He is also a consultant of the Juvenile Justice Welfare Council and the first Geriatric Social Worker in the Philippines with an extensive research background in children and older persons.
Renu Sharma is Assistant Professor at the College of Social Work, Nirmala Niketan, Mumbai, India. Her Research interests focus on the areas of children in vulnerable situations, criminology and correctional administration. She has over ten years of teaching experience.
Meghna Vesvikar is Assistant Professor at the College of Social Work, Nirmala Niketan, Mumbai, India. She completed her MA in Social Work with a specialisation in Criminology and Correctional Administration from the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai, India. For two years, she worked for Aangan, a non-governmental organisation working for the psychosocial rehabilitation of children in state-run institutions.
1 Introduction
Elaine Arnull
Young people, crime, justice and delinquency have been at the forefront of social concern across the world throughout much of history and the trajectory has not changed. These concerns have not only been a consistent historical feature but have also been a common pattern across many societies. We love our babies and children. We need future generations to develop and further our societies and to keep us in our old age. But we also appear to fear the young, especially adolescents and young adults. It would seem that we fear their enthusiasm, their challenge, their perceived delinquency and their replacing of us. They are often blamed for social ills, and their deviancy and its threat to social control has been held to be a social fact from Plato (Byron 2009) to the current period (Barnado’s 2008: Vidali 1998).
E. Arnull Nottingham Trent University, Nottingham, UK
Young people are currently experiencing considerable social difficulties and pressures in a fast-changing world. The current difficulties are the result of economic circumstances which they did not create, but which have impacted worldwide in a number of ways. Access to work is problematic for many young people, with the International Labour Organization (ILO) estimating worldwide unemployment rates for those aged under 25 years at 12.5 per cent (Government of India 2013). But those rates are much worse in some countries as the result of greater economic recession. Eurostat (Eurostat Statistics Explained 2015) shows the disparity within and across Europe:
In July 2015, 4.634 million young persons (under 25) were unemployed in the EU-28, of whom 3.093 million were in the euro area. Compared with July 2014, youth unemployment decreased by 465,000 in the EU-28 and by 336,000 in the euro area. In July 2015, the youth unemployment rate was 20.4% in the EU-28 and 21.9% in the euro area, compared with 22.0% and 23.8% respectively in July 2014. In July 2015, the lowest rates were observed in Germany (7.0%), Malta (8.7%) and Estonia (9.5% in June 2015), and the highest in Greece (51.8% in May 2015), Spain (48.6%), Croatia (43.1% in the second quarter 2015) and Italy (40.5%).
As the figures show, for some young people in Europe, there is a significant probability that they will be unemployed, while in other countries the opposite is true.1 The complexity of the picture is shown in developing countries like India, where the fast-changing international situation and the impact of technological and other changes are reflected in the unemployment statistics. Statistics in India are estimated across localities and unemployment rates for 15-24 year olds show rates between 15 and 18 per cent (ref as before). The figures for the employed include those in casual and unstable work (a work pattern that is an increasing feature in the developed world too). The report also highlights that the pattern
1 Of the countries featured in this book, statistics regarding youth unemployment aged 15–24 show: youth unemployment was 13.10 per cent in Canada in August 2015; in the USA, it was 11 per cent in August 2015; in the Philippines 16.7 per cent, in Croatia 51.5 per cent and in the UK 20.3 per cent for 2013–14. Note the latter three sets of national statistics are taken from the World Bank website, which shows the US at 15.8 per cent and Canada at 13.8 per cent.
of unemployment is worse for the educated young person as about onethird of 15-29 year old graduates are unemployed (ref as before).
Many young people across the world now pay for their education and this includes developed countries, such as the UK, in which education had been free at the point of access up to postgraduate level. The level of debt that many young people are now burdened with as a result of graduate education is something which is becoming an issue across the globe (ref as before). And there is growing concern that a similar position to that in India with regard to graduate unemployment is emerging in other countries (ref as before).
The position is exacerbated for young people by the many financial cuts and constraints that are being imposed worldwide. Neoliberal governments argue that they are necessary because of economic recession or difficult economic circumstances, although they rarely accept responsibility for having created the situation in which these circumstances arose (The Guardian 3 June 2015a). However, one of the outcomes for young people is that the cuts limit the services available to support and assist them. This is in contradiction with the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child (UNCRC) and the UK has been recently criticised for the way in which its cuts have impacted on children and young people. The criticisms were reflected on in a government response that noted that submissions to it showed: ‘Particular concern was expressed in evidence to us about the way the report dealt with the impact of austerity on children’s rights’ (section 62 of the Joint Committee on Human Rights 2015) and further that ‘analysis by the Institute for Fiscal Studies has also reported that poor families with children have been hardest hit’ (section 63 Joint Committee on Human Rights 2015).
Economic pressures therefore add to the social and educational pressures which young people experience across the world, across the world, and add to their levels of dissatisfaction. These may become evident in a number of ways; in the UK in 2011, there were riots and there is increased expectation of social dislocation and unease as the financial crisis deepens (The Guardian 29 September 2015b). Elsewhere in the
world, we have seen similar dislocations, with riots across Europe and in factories in China, the growth of the far right and fundamentalist parties and religious movements, high levels of youth unemployment, riots and demonstrations in the USA in response to racist policing, and widespread social movements across the Middle East.
In addition, at a psychosocial level, we have seen rising levels of mental ill health and suicide rates amongst young people in many parts of the developed world. The World Health Organization (WHO) (2014) estimates that suicide rates are about 11.4 per 100,000 worldwide, with the numbers higher for males than females (15 per 100,000 compared to 8 per 100,000). They express concern that in many European countries, suicide is the main cause of death for those aged 15–29. But they also note high suicide levels in India and particularly elevated deaths by firearms in the Americas for this age group. Regional variations therefore exist, but for many countries featured in this book, there are economic and social issues which impact on the lives of young people, creating a great sense of fragility and uncertainty, giving them little sense of control and leading for some to untimely death.
Furthermore, in times of economic uncertainty and difficulties, there can be considerable social dislocation that may manifest itself in foreseen and unforeseen ways (The Guardian 29 September 2015b). The conflicts within society that are thereby unleashed may mean that governments look for someone to blame and young people have traditionally provided such a focus within many societies.
In addition, tensions within social groups within and across societies are exacerbated. We see in many parts of the world the denial of equal human rights to girls and women, the denial of access to education on the grounds of gender and the denial of access to medical support. Further, these constrictions take place against a background of extreme levels of violence, deprivation of liberty, and the use of kidnap, forced sexual engagement and rape. These ‘techniques’ are currently regularly used against young girls and women across the world, but form major concerns in particular areas at this time, for example, in the north of Nigeria, Burkina Faso, parts of Pakistan and parts of the Middle East, especially under certain regimes such as that in Saudi Arabia and in areas controlled by extreme Islamist groups.
The power of some young women to resist such tyranny was forcefully thrust on the world in the person and experiences of Malala Yousafzai, but every day millions of girls and young women are subjected to terror and deprivation of rights on the basis of their gender. These acts are counter to direct stipulations in the UNCRC, for example, Articles 1 and 2, which declare equality for all, or Article 35, which specifically prohibits abduction. But those committing these acts either consider the Convention irrelevant, challenge its validity and basis, or use their acts to discipline and control others through the very real fear which their behaviour engenders and spreads throughout those societies.
In societies which deny girls and women equal rights, their attempts to gain equality are termed delinquent at best or are perhaps said to be against their nature, while at worst they lead to their imprisonment, torture, kidnap, capture and death. Their ‘delinquency’ may range from their attempts to receive an education like Mala, but may involve other social behaviours such as attempting to discuss the constraints on their freedom or actually attempting to exercise their social rights, such as attending a sports match or driving a car (see, for example, The Guardian 25 June 2014). Challenging one’s society therefore has real and profound implications, and this is the daily reality for many young people worldwide.
Racism and its impacts also remain key factors in the lives of many young people across the world. Racism impacts directly on the construction of delinquency through racialised imagery, stereotyping and the labelling of individuals and communities, and this can lead to discrimination and over-policing. And, as for other structural inequalities, there are clear intersections and interlinking factors and facets. Thus, in the criminal and youth justice systems, race, gender and class are key factors.
In the societies featured within this book, racism impacts their youth justice systems and the ways in which they construct delinquency and criminality. Media coverage in Canada has, for example, dealt with both the persistence of racism despite equality legislation and the way in which racism shapes their criminal justice system (Toronto Star 20 March 2012). In the UK, public protest and riots followed the death of a young man at the hands of police officers in Tottenham in 2011 and in the USA race riots arose after the shooting dead of a young man in 2014 in Ferguson and the death in custody of a young man in 2015 in Baltimore (Reuters 30 April 2015).
In addition, an article in The Hindu (12 June 2012) reflected on the ways in which racism and discrimination impacted the lives of particular ethnic groups in India. The article considered how this affects the Indian justice system, as well as other parts of social and cultural interaction. In Croatia, war is a recent memory. Ethnic conflicts formed a significant factor in those wars and as the Chap. 4 reflects had direct impacts on the youth justice system. And, finally, a simple Google search using the terms ‘racism and ethnic discrimination in the Philippines’ produces a slew of articles, blogs, media coverage and comment. The focus is related to discrimination within the Philippines and how this impacts those of ethnic Chinese origin in particular. But the coverage also discusses how internalised racist imagery has led many Filipinos to declare that they prefer a ‘look’ that is tall, blond and blue-eyed. Other discussions on those sites document discrimination based around religion (i.e. if someone is a non-Catholic). What appeared similar in the live media and the cultural debates captured on the Web is that in India and the Philippines, the debates show a real sense of societies and cultures struggling to accept that they might also be racist and discriminatory despite considering that the long-term effects of colonialism would have ‘saved’ them from that.
The cultural complexities of racism and ethnic discrimination can therefore be seen to play out in each of the countries within the book and each struggles with the issues in its own way. What each country has in common is that racism and ethnic discrimination can also be found to intersect within that culture with other forms of structural discrimination. In turn, this appears to lead to over-representation of those discriminated against groups within the youth justice and criminal justice systems. For young people from discriminated against groups, the reality is commonly that they are over-policed and incarcerated; they may find it hard to have their voice heard and represented by legitimate means and thus this frustration may lead on occasions to violent protest (ref as before). (Reuters 30 April 2015).
Protest may lead one across the boundary between delinquent and ‘criminal’ behaviour (Rutter and Giller 1983), just as acts of theft or more clearly accepted boundaries around ‘criminal’ behaviour may. The boundaries between the two are often blurred, but finding oneself at odds with the legal system may have terrible consequences for many young people worldwide where torture accompanies imprisonment and where the death penalty may be imposed. Amnesty International has used the case of Moses
Akatugba to highlight how accusations of the theft of three mobile phones led to his torture and imprisonment for ten years on death row, before his final pardon and release (Amnesty International 2015). Moses was just 16 years old when he was arrested, tortured and sentenced to death.
The treatment of young people within youth justice systems can be extreme and contrary to the UNCRC declarations to which most countries are signatories, whether or not their behaviour accords with those conventions. The countries criticised by the UNCRC include the USA, which was said to be the last country to use the death penalty against those under 18 years (The Guardian 2 March 2005). But a number of countries continue to retain a constitutional right to use the death penalty against juveniles, even if they have not exercised it in recent years. The UK was also criticised by the UNCRC for its treatment of young people in the youth justice system. In a 2008 UN report, concerns included the use of restraints on children in custodial settings and:
The low age of criminal responsibility
The Committee recommends raising the minimum age of criminal responsibility.
Use of Anti-Social Behaviour Orders (ASBOs) for children
ASBOs are issued ‘too easily, a broad range of behaviour is prohibited and breach of an order is a criminal offence with potentially serious consequences. Instead of being a measure in the best interests of children, ASBOs may in practice contribute to their entry into contact with the criminal justice system and most children subject to them are from disadvantaged backgrounds’. The Committee also found that ‘naming and shaming’ children subject to an ASBO is in direct conflict with the Convention rights to privacy. The Committee recommends an independent review of ASBOs with a view to abolishing their application to children. (Equality and Human Rights Commission 2015)
This was stark criticism of a country that would like to see itself as socially liberal, fair and just. Prior to this international shaming, ASBOs, restraints on children and young people in secure and custodial settings, and the age of criminal responsibility were all areas which campaigners within the country had raised as being of concern (Fox and Arnull 2013). In a review in 2015 of the most recent UNCRC 2014 report on the UK’s treatment of
children and young people, the House of Lords and House of Commons Joint Committee on Human Rights reflected on very similar issues that were again raised. These included concerns about the use of force in custody, lack of privacy for young people and a lack of safeguards in the judicial system (section 65 Joint Committee on Human Rights 2015).
Therefore, as we can see, the societies featured in this book include those that struggle to meet the needs and rights of children and young people, and this is not solely linked to societal wealth or levels of economic development. This struggle to meet the needs of children and young people is an important part of our reflection on our judicial systems and in itself says something about our cultures and the constructions of childhood, youth and delinquency that we have formed. In an interconnected world it is easier for us to learn more about one another, and this includes the areas of delinquency and protest.
The numerous changes to our social and cultural lives at this time therefore present challenges and constraints, but they also provide many exciting opportunities. Worldwide access to the Internet and social media has wrought profound social change, and it is something with which young people are often associated and at which they are usually portrayed as proficient. Young people’s use of social media often reflects the way they interact socially, but it may reinforce or subtly alter certain aspects, which has given rise for some concern (see, for example, Sunday Times 10 November 2015). Furthermore, social media can be used to galvanise and organise young people and social movements, for example, the City of London sit-ins (2011–12), the riots of 2011 in the UK and 2015 in the USA, the Middle East ‘Spring’ in 2012 and India’s response to the rising numbers of rape and brutal public assaults on women and girls (ref as before) (Losh 2014). The role that social media can play in giving a voice to young people’s versions of events or in organising social action is discussed on many Internet sites and one such is ‘Scenes of Reason’ (28 April 2015). Numerous websites offer testimony that young people care deeply about the worlds they inhabit, seek to voice those concerns, and challenge boundaries and notions of what is acceptable.
Social media and in particular mobile phones are also used as a means of communicating with young people, and youth justice systems have sought to exploit this. They can be used as a means of engaging young people, but in so doing there is the risk of further curtailment
of freedoms and privacy, which the UK, for example, is already seen to infringe (section 65 Joint Committee on Human Rights 2015). Furthermore, social media and mobile phones are also sites for crime to occur; as Pitts (2015) notes, they appear to be sites of increasing criminal activity, and young people are both victims and perpetrators.
For those who work in the fields of social work, social care, criminological and criminal justice, there is a need to engage with young people within a context that they understand. There is also a need to be able to advocate for and on behalf of young people. However, the economic recession and the political orientation of many current governments mean that there have been significant cuts to public and welfare services worldwide, and these are discussed in the forthcoming chapters. Delivering high-quality, caring, anti-oppressive, young person-centred services in a climate of retrenchment can become increasingly difficult.
At the same time, the role of professionals is being questioned and within the UK, for example, practitioners are being asked to be more independent and critical (Munro 2011; YJB 2015, AssetPlus). In addition, there has been a move across the UK and Europe for more work within the social care and criminal justice settings to be provided by private or third sector organisations and, in some areas, such as the Probation Service in the UK, for most work to be given to the private sector (see Centre for Crime and Justice Studies 2014).
The concerns raised by bodies such as the UNCRC should therefore resonate with us about the shortcomings which already exist and which might be exacerbated by the forthcoming cuts and changes. Furthermore, the Joint Committee on Human Rights (2015) has acknowledged that in the UK, these can be seen to impact particularly on children, young people and the poor. This pattern of social dislocation, with growth in some areas but with little or no impact on the poor or, at worst, negative impacts and therefore growing social exclusion, is noted in many reviews of the economies for those countries featured within this book. Political uncertainty is a feature of all of the countries at this time, either because of forthcoming elections, an economic downturn, debates about migration or concerns about the world’s political situation and conflicts in and about the Middle East and Syria in particular. Reviews for all of the countries featured show an uncertain future.
It is probable that the uncertainty, economic concerns and instability will affect young people. New economic and social situations such as unemployment and underemployment for well-educated young people are noted in the reviews of Croatia, the UK and India. And other social dislocations are forecast for the Philippines (The Economist 21 May 2015), Canada (Huffington Post 29 September 2015), the USA (CNN 9 September 2015), Croatia (World Bank 2015 a) and India (World Bank 2015 b) (28 April 2015). No country it would seem is immune at this time and, as the current reviews note and academic texts have argued, at times of social dislocation and economic uncertainty, life frequently becomes very difficult for young people and most especially for those at the margins (Pitts 2015; Young 1998).
This Book
This book aims to engage the reader through the examination of youth justice systems in six different countries across the world, drawing principally on criminological and sociological analysis, expert opinion and original research. Each chapter is written by an academic who is an expert in the area of youth justice in the country that he or she is writing about. All the chapter authors are also actively engaged in research in the area of youth justice and some have practice-based knowledge and skills. In this the authors model the book’s underpinning ethos, which is to bring youth justice theory, policy and practice into an international dialogue in which it is possible to critique that which exists and reimagine it.
This book presents new knowledge in the context of a global world. It seeks to challenge the reader to think about and critique the similarities and differences within and across countries, and the way in which each in turn responds to delinquent behaviour and young people. As authors, we draw on criminological explanations, social work and psychosocial theories, expert testimony and sociological accounts to argue that the way we engage with young people who might be behaving in ways that our societies do not sanction says as much about our societies as it does about the young person and his or her behaviour. The book is therefore a representation of a changing world and of the way in which ‘global’,
‘international’, ‘national’, ‘country’ and ‘culture’ intersect and impact each other. This whole-system approach of interdependence underpins the cultural criminological thrust of the book.
It has been argued that critical skills are often under-utilised in public and welfare practice (SCIE 2005; Teli 2011). Furthermore, that research is often not utilised or not utilised effectively within a policy or practice setting (Arnull 2014; Hemsley-Brown 2004; Levin 1997; Oliver et al. 2014). However, at this time of deep cuts to public and welfare services across the world, there is a very real need for those working with dispossessed young people to be able to communicate effectively and to use the information and resources at their disposal (Arnull 2014). Several of the chapters argue for this utilisation. The call is to more effectively bring theoretical and practice knowledge to the academic, policy and practice table in order to analyse, discuss and understand what has been done and what might be done to support, empower and enable young people who are, or have been, in youth justice systems across the world. A perspective informed by cultural (Ferrell 1999) and comparative (Szabo 1976) approaches to criminology and sociology offers the opportunity to begin this engagement afresh and is of particular importance in a globalised world.
Existing theoretical approaches are considered in some depth in Chap. 2 and in particular how these have shaped our notions of delinquency. However, chapter two also seeks to extend the debate concerning constructions of delinquency. In so doing, Elaine Arnull poses new questions about the role of the World Wide Web and social media on those constructions. Changing social mores and norms are also considered, and questions are asked about how these impact constructions of delinquency, especially if these remain disputed or contested.
In Chaps. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8, research on an aspect of youth justice functionality is considered in depth within a specified country. The countries are arranged with some regard for geographical position and relative wealth and development. Two European systems form the basis of Chap. 3, in which Elaine Arnull considers the risk-based youth justice system in England and Wales, and in Chap. 4, Dalibor Dolezal discusses a system in transition in Croatia. The American subcontinent is featured in Chap. 5, in which Darrell Fox talks about the use of restorative justice approaches in Canada, while Judith Ryder in Chap. 6 presents a changing
approach to the incarceration of girls in the USA. Finally, in Chaps. 7 and 8, the authors present research undertaken in two countries that are emerging as more economically powerful and whose responses to young people within their youth justice systems are developing and changing. Thus, in Chap. 7, Nicamil K. Sanchez outlines the community-based approach used in the Philippines, while in Chap. 8, Meghna Vesvikar and Renu Sharma discuss India’s system that is struggling to implement its own legislation for a variety of reasons that are fully considered.
The chapters draw out what is distinctive within each cultural and national response, but what is shared and common across our cultures can also be seen. We can see how, for example, a society might commonly do one of two things: it might seek to place a young person outside of the community for an act of perceived delinquency, whereas alternatively it might seek to draw the young person in.
In Chap. 9, the threads are drawn together with the intention of thinking about how this body of knowledge can be used to influence policy and practice, and to ask how might we collectively and globally use it to construct a shared understanding of what would make a better, antioppressive youth justice service for young people.
The UNCRC has many stipulations and prohibitions and much good advice, but, as we have seen, the systems featured within this book consistently flout it. The chapters offer evidence of international youth justice practice. We should consider how we might use this knowledge to construct fairer and less discriminatory systems. We might also use this knowledge to consider how we might build a shared understanding of delinquency in a global and interconnected world and, in turn, use that to shape our responses to young people who challenge us.
References
Amnesty International. (2015). I’m alive—I’m not a ghost. Amnesty (Autumn 2015), 22.
Arnull, E. (2014). Social work and the Youth Justice System: Ensuring social work values. PROBATION Junior Journal.
Barnado’s. (2008). The shame of Britain’s intolerance of children. Release date 17 Nov 2008, Press releases archives: Barnado’s. Accessed June 2011.
BBC. (2015, August 19). Most graduates “in Non-graduate Jobs”, says CIPD. www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-33983048. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Byron, T. (2009). We see children as pestilent. The Guardian, 17 March., www. theguardian.com/education/2009/mar/17/ephebiphobia-young-peoplemosquito. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Centre for Crime and Justice Studies. (2014). The coming probation privatisation disaster. www.crimeandjustice.org.uk/resources/coming-probation-privatisationdisaster. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
CNN. (2015, September 9). National mood sours. Politics to blame? www.huffingtonpost.ca/ralph-goodale/liberal-fiscal-plan_b_8208384.html?utm_hp_ ref=canada-politics. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Equality and Human Rights Commission. (2015). UN CRC report on UK performance 2008. www.equalityhumanrights.com/about-us/our-work/human-rights/ international-framework/un-convention-rights-child/un-crc- report-ukperformance-2008. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Ferrell, J. (1999). Cultural Criminology. Annual Review of Sociology, 25, 395–418.
Fox, D., & Arnull, E. (2013). Social work in the youth justice system: A multidisciplinary perspective. Milton Keynes: Open University Press. Government of India. (2013). Report on youth employment-unemployment scenario 2012–2013. http://labourbureau.nic.in/Youth%20Report%20Final. pdf. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Hemsley-Brown, J. V. (2004). Facilitating research utilisation: A cross-sector review of the research. Evidence International Journal of Public Sector Management, 17(6), 534–553.
Huffington Post. (2015, September 29). Why the liberals’ economic policy is the most sound. www.huffingtonpost.ca/ralph-goodale/liberal-fiscal-plan_b_8208384. html?utm_hp_ref=canada-politics. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Joint Committee on Human Rights. (2015). The UK’s compliance with the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child eighth report of session 2014–15. www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/jt201415/jtselect/jtrights/144/144.pdf. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Levin, P. (1997). Making social policy: The mechanisms of government and politics and how to investigate them. Buckingham, London/New York: Oxford University Press.
Losh, E. (2014, November 3). Hashtag feminism and Twitter activism in India. Social Epistemology and Reply Collective. http://social-epistemology.com/ 2014/11/03/hashtag-feminism-and-twitter-activism-in-india-elizabeth-losh. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Munro, E. (2011). The Munro review of child protection: Final report. A childcentred system. London: HMSO.
Oliver, K., Innvar, S., Lorenc, T., Woodman, J., & Thomas, J. (2014). A systematic review of barriers to and facilitators of the use of evidence by policymakers. BMC Health Research, 14(2).
Reuters. (2015, April 30). Marchers protest police violence in Baltimore, New York. www.reuters.com/article/2015/04/30/us-usa-police-baltimore-idUSKBN0NI 1N720150430#g9mTy5uDCOMiYq3u.97. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Scenes of Reason. (2015, April 28). The Baltimore riots explained: How to start a riot. https://www.scenesofreason.com/baltimore-riots-explained. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Statista. (2015). Monthly youth (16–24) unemployment rate in the United States from August 2014 to August 2015 (seasonally adjusted). www.statista. com/statistics/217448/seasonally-adjusted-monthly-youth-unemploymentrate-in-the-us. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Sunday Times. (2015, November 10). Fauxtogrophy: The camera never lies … except on Instagram. www.thesundaytimes.co.uk/sto/news/focus/article1630124.ece. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Szabo, D. (1976) Comparative Criminology. Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, 66 (3):5, 366–379
Teli, B. (2011). Assessment and planning interventions: Review and redesign project: Statement of intent—Proposed framework. London: Youth Justice Board. http://www.yjb.gov.uk/.. Accessed 5 May 2015.
The Economist. (2015, May 21). Victims of the raid. www.economist.com/news/ asia/21646753-political-repercussions-botched-operation-rumble-victims-raid ?zid=309&ah=80dcf288b8561b012f603b9fd9577f0e. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
The Guardian. (2005, March 2). US becomes last country to end death penalty for under-18s. www.theguardian.com/world/2005/mar/02/usa.julianborger. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
The Guardian. (2011, August 12). Student debt nears £60,000 for 2012 university freshers, survey predicts. www.theguardian.com/money/2011/aug/12/ student-debt-to-rocket-2012-freshers. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
The Guardian. (2014, June 25). Two women referred to “terror” court for driving in Saudi Arabia. www.theguardian.com/world/2014/dec/25/women-chargedsaudi-arabia-driving-ban-terror-court. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
The Guardian. (2015a, June 3). OECD tells George Osborne to spread pain of public spending cuts. www.theguardian.com/business/2015/jun/03/oecd-to-georgeosborne-spread-the-pain-of-public-spending-cuts. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
The Guardian. (2015b, September 29). Class war accuses cereal killer cafe owners of “milking publicity”. www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/sep/29/cerealkiller-cafe-class-war-anti-gentrification-protest-independent- businesses . Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
The Hindu. (2012, June 12). Let’s stop pretending there’s no racism in India. www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/lets-stop-pretending-theres-no-racismin-india/article3466554.ece. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Toronto Star. (2012, March 20). The persistence of racial inequality. www.thestar.com/opinion/editorialopinion/2012/03/20/the_persistence_of_racial_ inequality_in_canada.html. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
Vidali, S. (1998). Youth deviance and social exclusion in Greece. In The New European criminology: Crime and social order in Europe. London: Routledge. World Bank. (2014). Unemployment, youth total (% of total labor force ages 15–24) (modeled ILO estimate). http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/SL. UEM.1524.ZS. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
World Bank. (2015a). Croatia: Overview. www.worldbank.org/en/country/ croatia/overview. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
World Bank. (2015b, April 28). While India’s economy has turned the corner, wider reforms are needed to boost economic growth. www.worldbank.org/ en/news/feature/2015/04/28/india-economy-turned-corner-wider-reformsneeded-boost-economic-growth. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
World Health Organization. (2014). Global Health Observatory (GHO). www.who.int/gho/mental_health/suicide_rates/en. Accessed 22 Dec 2015.
YJB. (2015, January 29). Youth justice annual statistics 2013/14. Ministry of Justice https://www.gov.uk/government/uploads/system/uploads/attachment_data/file/399379/youth-justice-annual-stats-13-14.pdf. Accessed 5 May 2015.
Young, J. (1998). From inclusive to exclusive society. Nightmares in the European dream. In V. Ruggiero, N. South, & L. Taylor (Eds.), The New European criminology: Crime and social order in Europe (pp. 64–91). London: Routledge.
2
Theoretical Perspectives: Delinquency
Elaine Arnull and Darrell Fox
Section 1: Constructing Delinquency: Culture and Community
Elaine Arnull
Youth crime is a perennial issue that pervades the media and the public consciousness, and is inextricably linked to concerns about delinquent, misbehaving and disorderly youth. This chapter will consider how and when delinquency might be constructed and how this might be a static or changing phenomenon, both local and global. It will explore how explanations and accounts of delinquent behaviour might change over time, between cultures or within different groups within society. It will also discuss how theoretical explanations of delinquency enable us to critique
E. Arnull ( )
Nottingham Trent University, Nottingham, UK
D. Fox
University of the Fraser Valley, Abbotsford, BC, Canada
E. Arnull, D. Fox (eds.), Cultural Perspectives on Youth Justice, DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-43397-8_2
the concept in and of itself and to think about what is added by a global as well as a local, individual country perspective.
How a society seeks to create commonly held notions of what constitutes deviance and delinquency is considered. In addition, a critique is formed which questions the boundaries that are permissible for young people and the ‘spaces’ they are allowed to inhabit in a global and interconnected world. How explanations of delinquency are influenced by culture, history and social constructs, and what is particular (emic) and what is universal (etic) in those constructions is also critiqued. A new proposition is thereby advanced, which is that there are basic and universal notions of what is or is not delinquent, but that this is currently being contested and shaped anew in light of the emergence of the Internet, the World Wide Web and social media. Thus, these new forms of cultural communication offer fresh opportunities for young people to contest and shape constructions which largely impact them, and in so doing they provide a counter-hegemonic force which cannot be considered subcultural because of the ubiquity of its global existence.
Delinquency
Like deviance, delinquency in this book is taken to be a constructed phenomenon or concept and one which can only be created in relation to the ‘other’ or a concept of non-delinquency or proper behaviour (Becker 1963; Downes and Rock 1998; Szabo 1976). Delinquency is different from criminal behaviour in that whilst it might be disapproved of or considered to be ‘outside’ of the ‘normal’, encouraged or acceptable boundaries of behaviour, it is not necessarily illegal and engaging in it might not make the perpetrator a ‘criminal’. It is similar to ‘deviant’, but, unlike deviancy, it is associated much more strongly with youth/young people and their behaviour than it is with older people. And the way in which delinquency is constructed means it is often considered a ‘phase’ and some argue that it is a ‘normal’ part of a young person’s development, i.e. that he or she tests out the boundaries and norms of his or her society, social and peer group, and is thereby enabled to make decisions for himself or herself about how he or she should or should not behave in
the future (Coleman 2011). This is also different from deviancy which it is not always assumed one might ‘grow out’ of.
A definition of delinquency as a constructed phenomenon or concept raises philosophical questions of whether one can be delinquent on one’s own and whether delinquent behaviour matters if it is in a ‘private’ rather than a ‘public’ space. These are important questions, and the latter has been a key conceptual distinction for the law and has influenced much law making, especially around issues of violence and sexual behaviour and notions of ‘privacy’. Delinquent behaviour, like deviant behaviour, might therefore be outside of the social norms, but does that of necessity make it wrong? And what role does the concept of ‘harm’ play in establishing those boundaries? In addition, is ‘delinquency’ the same for every young person within or across societies or is it a highly mediated experience, infused with patriarchal and class-based distinctions and constructions of race and ethnicity, ability, gender and sexuality?
In order to think this through, it is worth exploring some examples from UK society to really make these conceptual notions concrete. Thus, in the UK for very many years, you might not behave violently towards someone else in a public space and to do so might result in arrest, prosecution and adjudication. But until quite recently in historical terms, you might behave violently within your home, especially if the person to whom you were violent was your ‘wife’ and you were male, and in UK vernacular this was considered a ‘domestic’. And whilst ‘domestic’ violence was deplored by some, for others it was not of note, less ‘real’ and perhaps neither delinquent nor criminal (see, for example, Naffine’s (1997: 65–66) critique of the approach of Left Realism within criminology). The discussion about domestic violence is often complicated by the fact that a man might also be assaulted by a female or same-sex partner (Mirrless-Black 1999) as well as debates about prevalence, legal background, public perception and the range and extent of harm (Felmath et al. 2014; Flood and Fergus n.d.; Foshee et al. 2014; García-Moreno et al. 2006; Mirrless-Black 1999; Naffine 1997). The debates are only tangentially relevant to us, although they help us to think through how a society might seek to construct notions of delinquency and deviance, and how these might be contested. Thus, whilst social attitudes towards domestic or gendered violence have changed and are changing, the pat-
tern of change has been slow and attitudes about domestic violence, which run counter to prevailing laws, have persisted for over 100 years. These disputed boundaries and definitions are persistent across the world, and in Europe, the USA and India, gendered violence has remained reasonably common, even though it is now considered criminal activity (García-Moreno 2006; Kutchinsky 2014; Naffine 1997). Furthermore, research studies indicate that as a form of behaviour, it can be hard to influence (Felmath et al. 2014; Foshee et al. 2014). Thus, despite a change in social attitudes concerning violence towards domestic/sexual partners, there have been growing concerns about a rising level of dating-based violence amongst young people in the UK. In the international context, there have been concerns about group-based, gendered violence in India, and reports from countries such as Australia highlight very high levels of violence, with one-third of women said to have experienced violence in a relationship and one-quarter of young people reporting witnessing violence from their father or step-father towards their mother or stepmother (Flood and Fergus, n.d.).
Thus, the issue of domestic violence, history, the effects of time and societal attitudes are intertwined factors, and a consideration of how these factors intersect helps us to consider whether or not violent behaviour towards a partner is delinquent or deviant if a sizeable minority dispute that. Further, are such questions even more pertinent if the behaviour is said to be transmitted within the family and therefore hard to change (see, for example, Foshee et al. 2014)? Does it matter if a form of behaviour was not formerly illegal or went unprosecuted and/or a sizeable minority of a group hold that behaviour to be acceptable?
Using the UK as an example, we see that violence perpetrated by husbands against their wives was not usually pursued in the law courts until the Aggravated Assaults Act of 1853 and, in general, domestic violence escaped prosecution until the 1970s. In addition, we can see that ‘domestic’ violence continues to be regularly perpetrated by a sizeable minority of people, especially males, worldwide. The question therefore must be as follows: can this behaviour be considered delinquent or deviant?
Kutchinsky (2014) reported on a survey about violence against women within Europe which suggested that a considerable number of men, including young men, behave violently towards women, includ-
ing young women, and particularly their partners. García-Moreno et al. undertook a study for the World Health Organization in 2006 that also showed a high prevalence of domestic violence across a range of countries. In addition, however, it showed significant variation within countries. The question this therefore raises is both about culture and cultural norms, but it also poses the question of dissonance. Thus, does a study such as that by García-Moreno et al. (2006) mean that those who perpetrate violence against a partner experience dissonance between their actual behaviour and their social views? Or do they not consider their behaviour to be outside of normal boundaries or criminal? Or does this dissonance occur in some cultures and societies and it is this which effects social change? If so, why, and why does it not occur in others? As such, is violence against a domestic/sexual partner behaviour that is delinquent or deviant? And if it is, at what point historically and culturally did it, or does it, become so?
As Spencer-Oatey (2012: 10, drawing on Avruch) has argued, the relationship between society, culture and behaviour is a complex process:
It is by approaching mind—cognition and affect—that we can sort out the ways in which culture is causal … But cultural representations—images and encodements, schemas and models—are internalised by individuals. They are not internalised equally or all at the same level.
The point is not to argue that domestic violence is acceptable social behaviour or for the decriminalisation of ‘domestic’ violence. The (often feminist) voices which raised concerns about domestic violence and cultural attitudes to it were powerful in asserting that private behaviour was as relevant as public behaviour (Naffine 1997); when they were originally making these arguments, their views ran counter to cultural norms. The feminist argument was that delinquent and criminal behaviour could occur within the home and could therefore form part of ‘private’ behaviour rather than purely public or social behaviour (Naffine 1997).
Domestic violence therefore serves as an example of how concepts of deviance, delinquency and criminality may be disputed and historically sited. Furthermore, domestic violence highlights that even if a society apparently agrees that a form of behaviour is not only deviant or delin-
Another random document with no related content on Scribd:
Beethoven entitled the next movement ‘a devout song of praise, offered by a convalescent to God, in the Lydian mode.’ It probably owes its origin to the fact that Beethoven was taken seriously ill while at work on this and the B-flat major quartet. It seems likely that before this illness he had other plans for the quartet, and that the Danza tedesca before mentioned was to find a place in it.
The movement is long in performance but relatively simple in structure. The chorale melody, simply harmonized, is preceded by a short, preludizing phrase; and its strophes are set apart from each other by short interludes in the same manner. After the chorale has been once given, there is an episode in D major (Neue Kraft fühlend) of blissful, gently animated character. The chorale is then repeated, the melody an octave higher than before, the interludes and the accompaniment complicated by syncopations. Once again the D major episode, highly elaborated. Following this, the chorale is introduced once more; but the introductory phrase is greatly lengthened and developed, and there are suggested entrances of the theme in all the instruments; nor does the complete theme make itself heard, but only the first phrase of it seems ultimately to soar aloft, in yet a higher register than before. So that this last section may be taken as a coda, or as an apotheosis.
The short march which follows calls for no comment. The final allegro is introduced by recitative passages for the first violin, gaining in passion, culminating in a dramatic run over the diminished seventh chord which bears some resemblance to the opening of the allegro of the first movement. There is a passing sigh before the last movement begins, Allegro appassionato.
Compared with the quartet in A minor, that in B-flat major is simple. It is more in the nature of a suite than in that of a sonata, though the first movement presents beneath an apparently irregular outline the basis of the classical sonata-form. At first glance the frequent changes of not only key signature but time signature as well are confusing. The key signatures are now two flats, six flats, two sharps
and one sharp; and at the beginning, the middle and the end of the movement the time is now triple, now duple, now slow, now fast.
The slow measures are related to the introduction, which here as in other works of Beethoven is recalled at times in the main body of the movement. The allegro makes a false start, in which the main outlines of the first theme are suggested. From the second start, however, the movement follows a relatively normal course. The first theme is compound. On the one hand, there are rapid groups of sixteenths, which play an important part in the whole movement; on the other, a rhythmical motive, rather than a theme, first announced by the second violin, which is the motto of the piece. The second theme is first presented in G-flat major by the second violin and immediately taken up by the first. At the beginning of the development section and again in the coda use is made of the motive of the introduction.
The second movement, a Presto in B-flat minor in alla breve time, with a Trio in 6/4 time, is short and in the manner of a folk-song or dance. It has no inner relation with the first movement; but it may be said to breathe something of its spirit into the following andante (Dflat major, common time). The kernel of the melody of this movement may be found in the first measure, given by viola and 'cello; and this kernel was sown, so to speak, by the previous movement. The viola develops it in the second measure and the phrase is immediately after taken up by the first violin.
For the fourth movement there is a rapid German waltz—Alla danza tedesca—in G major. The fifth is a simple cavatina. Karl Holz, one of the members of the Schuppanzigh quartet, has reported that Beethoven could not read over the score of this short movement without tears in his eyes. As the sixth movement there is the fugue, published as opus 133, with a new dedication to Archduke Rudolph, which was, as we have said, written for this quartet, and one of the themes of which seems related to the chromatic motives of the A minor quartet, on the one hand, and of the C-sharp minor quartet, on the other; or there is the brilliant rondo with which Beethoven
replaced it at the behest of the publishers, and which is the last of Beethoven’s compositions.
The fourth of the last quartets, in C-sharp minor, is dedicated to Field Marshal Baron von Sutterheim, who interested himself deeply in the affairs of Beethoven’s family. It is in some respects the most elusive, in others the most unusual of all. Its various movements are designated by numbers; yet two of them are so short that they need not be regarded as separate movements, but only as transitional or introductory sections. These are the third and the sixth. Furthermore, a definite pause is justifiable only between the fourth and fifth. Thus, in spite of the numbers, the work is closely blended into a whole, of which the separate parts are not only æsthetically united, but thematically complementary.
The first movement is a slow fugue, on a chromatic motive that makes us once again remember that Beethoven was working on this and the two preceding quartets at the same time. The fugue unfolds itself with greatest smoothness and seeming simplicity. The texture of the music is extremely close until near the end, where wide skips appear in the various parts, like the movement of a more vigorous life soon to break free in subsequent sections from such strict restraint of form. One will find a perfect skill in technical details, such as the diminution of the theme which appears in the first violin at the change of signature, and the augmentation in the 'cello part in the stretto not far before the end.
The fugue ends on a C-sharp unison, following a chord of C-sharp major in seven parts. Then, as if this single C-sharp bore within itself a secret harmonic significance, i.e., as the leading note in the scale of D major, the whole fabric slips up half a tone in the opening notes of the following movement, allegro molto vivace, D major—in 6/8 time. One cannot but feel the relationship between the delicate convolutions of this new theme and the fugue theme. The whole second movement hardly moves away from the motives of the opening measures. A sort of complement to them may be found in the successions of fourths which begin to rise up in the twenty-fifth
measure; and much farther on a sequence of chords beginning in Fsharp major suggests some variety. But on the whole the movement plays upon one theme, which recurs at intervals as in a rondo, but after episodes that offer only in the main an harmonic contrast.
The third movement, allegro moderato, in common time, is a recitative, begun in F minor and leading to a half-cadence in the dominant seventh harmonies of A major, in which key the following movement opens. We have here an andante and seven variations, variations so involved and recondite that, though they may be clearly perceived in the score, they will strike the unfamiliar ear as aimless and inexplicable music.
The theme itself is in the form of a dialogue between first and second violins. It merges into the first variation without perceptible break in the music. Here the theme is carried by the second violin, the first filling the pauses with a descending figure. This clause of the theme is then repeated by the viola, the 'cello taking the rôle of the first violin. The second clause of the theme is similarly treated.
The remaining six variations are clearly set apart from each other by changes in the time signature. There is a variation marked piu mosso, really alla breve, which is a dialogue between first violin and 'cello, accompanied at first monotonously by the other two instruments, later with more variety and animation. The next is an andante moderato e lusinghiero, in which the theme is arranged as a canon at the second, first between the two lower instruments, later between the two higher. This leads to an adagio in 6/8 time, in which the theme is broken up into passage work. The next and fifth variation (allegretto, 2/4) is the most hidden of all. The notes of the theme are separated and scattered here and there among the four parts. But the sixth, an adagio in 9/4 time, is simpler. The seventh, and last, is a sort of epilogue, a series of different statements of the theme, at first hidden in triplet runs; then emerging after a long trill, in its simplest form, in the key of C major; then in A major with an elaborated accompaniment; in F major, simple again; and finally brilliantly in A major.
The following Presto in E major, alla breve, is very long, but is none the less symmetrical and regular in structure. It is in effect a scherzo and trio. The scherzo is in the conventional two sections, both of which are built upon the same subject. The second section is broken by four measures (molto poco adagio!); and there is a false start of the theme, following these, in G-sharp minor, suddenly broken by a hold. This recalls the effect of the very opening of the movement, a single measure, forte, by the 'cello, as if the instrument were starting off boldly with the principal subject. But a full measure of silence follows, giving the impression that the 'cello had been too precipitate.
The Trio section offers at first no change of key; but a new theme is brought forward. Later the key changes to A major, and the rhythm is broadened. A series of isolated pizzicato notes in the various instruments prepares the return of the Scherzo (without repeats). The Trio follows again; and there is a coda, growing more rapid, after the Scherzo has been repeated for the second time.
A short adagio, beginning in G-sharp minor, forms the sixth movement, modulating to the dominant seventh in C-sharp minor. The last movement is in sonata form. There are clearly a first theme and a second theme, arranged according to rule. But the coda is very long; and, even more important, not only the first and second themes, but secondary themes and motives are all vaguely or definitely related to the themes of the earlier movements. The first theme, for all its somewhat barbaric character, is akin to the theme of the first allegro in D major. In the episodes which follow, the notes of the first violin and of the 'cello, in contrary motion, give a distinct impression of the opening fugue theme. The second theme itself—in E major—brings back a breath of the Trio, and Dr. Riemann finds in the accompaniment suggestions of the fourth variation. Only a detailed analysis could reveal the elaborate and intricate polyphony which is in every measure in the process of weaving.
After the C-sharp minor quartet, the last quartet—in F major, opus 135—appears outwardly simple. It shares with the first of the series simplicity and regularity of form; and is, like the quartet in E-flat
major, calm and outspoken, rather than disturbed, gloomy, or mysterious. It is the shortest of all the last quartets.
The first movement is in perfect sonata form. The first theme (viola) has a gently questioning sound, which one may imagine mocked by the first violin. The second theme, in C major, is light, almost in the manner of Haydn. The movement builds itself logically out of the opposition of these two motives, the one a little touched with sadness and doubt, the other confidently gay. The Scherzo which follows needs no analysis. Two themes, not very different in character, are at the basis. The second is presented successively in F, G, and A, climbing thus ever higher. The climax at which it arrives is noteworthy. The first violin is almost acrobatic in the expression of wild humor, over an accompaniment which for fifty measures consists of the unvaried repetition of a single figure by the other three instruments in unison. Following this fantastical scherzo there is a short slow movement in D-flat major full of profound but not tragic sentiment. The short theme, flowing and restrained, undergoes four variations; the second in C-sharp minor, rather agitated in character; the third in the tonic key, giving the melody to the 'cello; and the fourth disguising the theme in short phrases (first violin). To the last movement Beethoven gave the title, Der schwer gefasste Entschluss. Two motives which occur in it are considered, the one as a question: Muss es sein? the other as the answer: Es muss sein. The former is heard only in the introduction, and in the measures before the third section of the movement. The latter is the chief theme. Whether or not these phrases are related to external circumstances in Beethoven’s life, the proper interpretation of them is essentially psychological. The question represents doubt and distrust of self. The answer to such misgivings is one of deeds, not words, of strong-willed determination and vigorous action. Of such the final movement of the last quartet is expressive. Such seems the decision which Beethoven put into terms of music.
FOOTNOTES:
[70] The famous Schuppanzigh quartet met every Friday morning at the house of Prince Lichnowsky. Ignaz Schuppanzigh (b. 1776) was leader. Lichnowsky himself frequently played the second violin. Franz Weiss (b. 1788), the youngest member, hardly more than a boy, played the viola. Later he became the most famous of the viola players in Vienna. The 'cellist was Nikolaus Kraft (born 1778).
[71] Förster (1748-1823) forms an important link between Haydn and Beethoven.
[72] 2d edition, Berlin, 1913, pp. 482, et seq.
[73] Beethoven’s Streichquartette.
[74] Only Schuppanzigh himself, and Weiss, the violist, remained of the original four who first played Beethoven’s quartets opus 18 at the palace of Prince Lichnowsky. The second violinist was now Karl Holz, and the 'cellist Joseph Linke.
CHAPTER XVII
THE STRING ENSEMBLE SINCE BEETHOVEN
The general trend of development: Spohr, Cherubini, Schubert Mendelssohn, Schumann and Brahms, etc. New developments: César Franck, d’Indy, Chausson The characteristics of the Russian schools: Tschaikowsky, Borodine, Glazounoff and others Other national types: Grieg, Smetana, Dvořák The three great quartets since Schubert and what they represent; modern quartets and the new quartet style: Debussy, Ravel, Schönberg
Conclusion
IThere is little history of the string quartet to record after the death of Beethoven in 1827. It has undergone little or no change or development in technique until nearly the present day. The last quartets of Beethoven taxed the powers of the combined four instruments to the uttermost. Such changes of form as are to be noted in recent quartets are the adaptation of new ideas already and first put to test in music for pianoforte, orchestra, or stage. The growth of so-called modern systems of harmony affect the string quartet, but did not originate in it. A tendency towards richer or fuller scoring, towards continued use of pizzicato or other special effects, and a few touches of new virtuosity here and there, reflect the
general interest of the century in the orchestra and its possibilities of tone-coloring. But it is in the main true that after a study of the last quartets of Beethoven few subsequent quartets present new difficulties; and that, excepting only a few, the many with which we shall have to do are the expressions of the genius of various musicians, most of whom were more successful in other forms, or whose qualities have been made elsewhere and otherwise more familiar.
Less perhaps than any other form will the string quartet endure by the sole virtue of being well written for the instruments. Take, for example, the thirty-four quartets of Ludwig Spohr. Spohr was during the first half of the nineteenth century the most respected musician in Germany. He was renowned as a leader, and composer quite as much as he was world-famous as a virtuoso. He was especially skillful as a leader in quartet playing. He was among the first to bring out the Beethoven quartets, opus 18, in Germany. He was under a special engagement for three years to the rich amateur Tost in Vienna to furnish chamber compositions. No composer ever understood better the peculiar qualities of the string instruments; none was ever more ambitious and at the same time more serious. Yet excluding the violin concertos and an occasional performance of his opera Jessonda, his music is already lost in the past. Together with operas, masses, and symphonies, the quartets, quintets, and quartet concertos, are rapidly being forgotten. The reason is that Spohr was more conscientious than inspired. He stood in fear of the commonplace. His melodies and harmonies are deliberately chromatic, not spontaneous. Yet shy as he was of commonplaceness in melody and harmony, he was insensitive to a more serious commonplaceness.
When we consider what subtle systems of rhythm the semi-civilized races are masters of, we can but be astonished at the regularity of our own systems. Only occasionally does a composer diverge from the straight road of four-measure melody building. Yet is it not a little subtlety even within this rigorous system that raises the great composer above the commonplace? Certainly the ordinary in rhythm
most quickly wearies and disgusts the listener even if he is not aware of it. Spohr’s rhythmical system was so little varied that Wagner wrote of his opera Jessonda that it was 'alla Polacca’ almost all the way through.
The thirty-five string quartets are fundamentally commonplace, for all the chromaticism of their harmonies and melodies, and for all the skillful treatment of the instruments. The double-quartets (four, in D minor, E minor, E-flat major, and G minor) amount to compositions for small string orchestra. There are, among the quartets, six socalled ‘brilliant,’ which give to the first violin a solo rôle, and to the other instruments merely accompaniment. It is hardly surprising that the first violin is treated brilliantly in most of the quartets.
But the point is that Spohr’s quartets have not lived. In neatness of form and in treatment of the instruments they do not fall below the greatest. They are in these respects superior to those of Schumann for example. The weakness of them is the weakness of the man’s whole gift for composition; and they represent no change in the art of writing string quartets.
Ludwig Spohr.
Another man whose quartets are theoretically as good as any is Cherubini. Of the six, that in E-flat major, written in 1814, is still occasionally heard.
On the other hand, Schubert, a man with less skill than either Spohr or Cherubini, has written quartets which seem likely to prove immortal. Fifteen are published in the complete Breitkopf and Härtel edition of Schubert’s works. Of these the first eleven may be considered preparatory to the last four. They show, however, what is frequently ignored in considering the life and art of Schubert—an unremitting effort on the part of the young composer to master the principles of musical form.
The first of the great quartets, that in C minor—written in December, 1820—is but a fragment. Schubert completed but the first movement. Why he neglected to add others remains unknown. But the single movement is inspired throughout. The opening measures give at once an example of the tremolo, of which Schubert made great use in all his quartets. The general triplet rhythm is familiar in all his later works. We have here the Schubert of the great songs, of the B minor symphony, of the later pianoforte sonatas; warm, intense, inspired.
Two quartets were written in 1824, that in A minor, published as opus 29, and that in D minor,[75] the best known of all his quartets. The A minor is dedicated to Ignaz Schuppanzigh, with whom Schubert was on friendly terms. The second movement of the quartet in D minor is a series of variations on the song Der Tod und das Mädchen.
Finally there is the great quartet in G major, written in 1826, which may be taken as representative throughout of the very best of Schubert’s genius as it showed itself in the form. In it are to be found all the qualities associated with Schubert especially. The opening major triad, swelling to a powerful minor chord in eleven parts, and the constant interchange of major and minor throughout the movement; the tender second theme with its delicate folk-rhythm, its
unrestrained harmonies, its whispering softness in the variation after the first statement; these could have been the work of Schubert alone. Peculiar to Schubert’s treatment of the quartet are the tremolo, and the general richness of scoring—the sixths for second violin in the variation of the second theme, for example; the frequent use of octaves and other double-stops, the eleven-voiced chord at the beginning, and other such effects of fullness. There is little sign of the polyphonic drawing which so distinguished the last quartets of Beethoven. The quartet is made up of rich masses of sound that glow warmly, and fade and brighten. The inner voices are used measure after measure frankly to supply a richly vibrating harmony, nothing more. And an occasional dialogue between two instruments is all of polyphonic procedure one meets.
The beautiful andante in E minor begins with a melody for violoncello, a true Schubertian melody, which is carried on for two sections. Then a new spirit enters through hushed chords, and breaks forth loudly in G minor. There follows a passage full of wild passion. The agitated chords swell again and again to fortissimo. At last they die away, only the monotonous F-sharp of the cello suggests the throbbing of a despair not yet relieved. Over this the first violin and the viola sing the opening melody. Later the hushed tapping is given to other instruments and the cello takes up its melody again. Once more the despair breaks wildly forth, and yet again is hushed but not relieved. The sudden major in the ending can not take from the movement its quality of unconsoled sadness. The scherzo, in B minor, is built upon the constant imitation and play of a single merry figure. The trio is in G major, one of those seemingly naïve yet perfect movements such as Schubert alone could write. There is only the swing of a waltz, only the melody that a street gamin might carelessly whistle; but somewhere beneath it lies genius. The interchange of phrases of the melody between the different instruments, and the mellifluous counter-melodies, have something the same sort of charm as the Scherzo of the symphony in C major. The final movement is a rondo with a profusion of themes. There are the familiar marks of Schubert: the triplet rhythm
(6/8), the shifting between major and minor; the full, harmonic style; the naïve swing, the spontaneous and ever fresh melodies.
Schubert worked at the string quartet with special devotion. Excepting the songs, his steady development toward perfect mastery of his expression is nowhere better revealed than in the quartets. Certainly the last two quartets are second only to the songs as proof of his genius. There is that soft, whispering, quality in Schubert’s music, for the expression of which the string quartet is a perfect instrument. Much of Schubert is intimate, too, and happily suited to the chamber. Less than any of the great composers did Schubert make use of polyphonic skill. It is easy to say that he lacked it; but what is hard to understand is how without it he could have contributed to music some of its most precious possessions.
II
We may say that Schubert applied himself to the composition of string quartets with a special devotion and ultimately with great success; that certain qualities of his genius were suited to an expression in this form. Mendelssohn applied himself to all branches of music with equal facility and with evidently little preference. Most of his chamber music for strings alone, however, belongs to the early half of his successful career. This in the case of Mendelssohn does not mean, as in the case of almost every other composer, that the quartets may not be the expression of his fully-matured genius. Mendelssohn never wrote anything better than the overture to ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream.’ This before he was twenty! But having put his soul for once into a few quartets he passed on to other works.
There was a time when these quartets were considered a worthy sequel to Beethoven’s. In the English translation of Lampadius’ ‘Life of Mendelssohn’ occurs the sentence: ‘But in fact they [his works] stand in need neither of approval nor defense: the most audacious critic bows before the genius of their author; the power and weight of public opinion would strike every calumniator dumb.’ And yet what
can now be said of Mendelssohn’s quartets save that they are precise in form, elegant in detail?
There are six in all. The first, opus 12, is in E-flat major. The slow introduction and the first allegro have all the well-known and now often ridiculed marks of the ‘Songs Without Words’: short, regular phrases; weak curves and feminine endings; commonplace harmonies, monotonous repetitions, uninteresting accompaniment. The second movement—a canzonetta—is interesting as Mendelssohn could sometimes be in light pieces; but the andante oozes honey again, and the final allegro is very long.
Is it unfair to dwell upon these wearisome deficiencies? Is there anything substantially better in the last of the six, in the quartet in F minor, opus 80? Here we have to do with one of the composer’s agitated spells. There is a rough start and measures of tremolo for all the instruments follow. This is the first theme, properly just eight measures long and as thoroughly conventional as music well may be. Then measures in recitative style, and again the first theme, and its motives endlessly repeated. Suddenly the instruments in an access of fury break into triplets; but this being calmed, the second theme appears, as it should in A-flat major, a theme that positively smirks.
But why attempt either analysis or description of works so patently urbane? There is no meaning hidden in them; there is no richness of sentiment; no harmonies out of new realms; no inspiration; nothing really to study. Between the first two quartets mentioned and the last in F minor there is a series of three (opus 44), one in D major, one in E minor, and one in E-flat major. There is an ‘Andante, Scherzo, Capriccio and Fugue’ for the four instruments, published as opus 81.
One turns to Schumann for a breath of more bracing air. Though Schumann was first and foremost a composer for the pianoforte, and though his quartets seem to be written in rather a pianoforte style, yet there are flashes of inspiration in the music which must be treasured, imperfect as the recording of them may be. There are three quartets, composed in 1842 and dedicated to Mendelssohn. As
early as 1838 Schumann mentioned in letters to his sweetheart that he had a string quartet in mind; but work in this direction was seriously hindered by troubles with Wieck, which were growing daily more acute. The second summer after his marriage, however, work on the quartets was resumed; and the three were composed in the short time of eight weeks, the last indeed apparently in five days (1822 July).
The first offers an harmonic innovation. The introduction is in A minor, which is the principal key of the whole quartet; but the first allegro is in F major. There is a Scherzo in A minor, with an Intermezzo, not a Trio, in C major. In these first two movements the habit of syncopation which gives much of his pianoforte music its peculiar stamp is evident: in the first theme of the allegro; in the measures which lead to the repetition of the first part; in the motive of the Intermezzo, which is rhythmically similar to the first movement and suggests some connection in Schumann’s mind. It is perhaps the prevalence in all three quartets of the rhythmical devices which we associate mostly with the pianoforte that raises a question of propriety of style. The adagio is pure Schumann, in quality of melody and accompaniment. Measures in the latter—noticeably the viola figure which accompanies the first statement of the melody—look upon the printed page like figures in a piano piece. Such figures are not polyphonic. They are broken chords, the effect of which is felicitous only on the pianoforte. The final presto suggests no little the spirit of the first and last movements of the pianoforte quintet, opus 44, which was composed in the following months. The whole movement, except for a charming musette and a few following measures of sustained chords just before the end, is built upon a single figure.
The first movement of the next quartet (in F major) likewise suggests the quintet. The style is smoothly imitative and compact; and the theme beginning in the fifty-seventh measure casts a shadow before. The Andante quasi Variazioni is most carefully wrought, and is rich in sentiment. The Scherzo which follows—in C minor—is syncopated throughout. The final allegro suggests the last movement of the B-
flat major symphony, the joyous Spring symphony written not long before.
The last quartet (in A) may rank with the finest of his compositions. Whether or not in theory the style is pianistic, the effect is rich and sonorous. The syncopations are sometimes baffling, especially in the last movement; but on the whole this quartet presents the essence of Schumann’s genius in most ingratiating and appealing form. The structure is free, reminding one in some ways of the D minor symphony. But there is no rambling. The whole work is intense. There is an economy of mood and of thematic material. One phrase dominates the first movement; the Assai agitato is a series of terse variations. There is a sustained Adagio in D major; and then a vigorous finale in free rondo form, the chief theme of which is undoubtedly related to the chief theme of the first movement.
It must be admitted that Schumann’s quartets are beautiful by reason of their harmonies and melodies; that theirs is a fineness of sentiment, not of style; that the luminous interweaving of separate parts such as is found in the quartets of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, is not to be found in his. He follows rather Schubert, but without Schubert’s instinct for instrumental color. So then one feels that it happened that Schumann should seek expression thrice through the medium of the string quartet; not that a certain quality of inspiration within him demanded just that expression and none other. His quartets represent neither a refinement nor an abstract of his genius. They are of a piece with his pianoforte pieces and his songs; as are likewise his symphonies. We admire and love all for the same qualities.
Brahms, who for so many reasons we may think of as taking up German music where Schumann left it, published only three string quartets. That he had written many others which he had chosen to discard before the two quartets, opus 51, were published in 1873, is evident from the note to Dr. Billroth concerning a dedication.[76] Several pianoforte quartets, and two sextets for two violins, two
violas and two violoncellos, opus 18 and opus 36, are closely related to the string quartet. The sextets are especially noteworthy.
The first sextet, in B-flat major, has won more popular favor than many other works by the same composer. The addition of two instruments to the regular four brought with it the same sort of problems which were mentioned in connection with Mozart’s quintets: i.e., the avoidance of thickness in the scoring. The group of six instruments is virtually a string orchestra; but the sextets of Brahms are finely drawn, quite in the manner of a string quartet. Especially in this first sextet have the various instruments a like importance and independence.
The first theme of the first movement (cello) is wholly melodious. The second theme, regularly brought forward in F major, is yet another melody, and again is announced by the violoncello. A passage of twenty-eight measures, over a pedal point on C, follows. This closes the first section. The development is, as might be expected, full of intricacies. The return of the first theme is brilliantly prepared, beginning with announcing phrases in the low registers, swelling to a powerful and complete statement in which the two violins join. The second movement is a theme and variations in D minor. The theme is shared alternately by first viola and first violin. The variations are brilliant and daring, suggesting not a little the pianoforte variations on a theme of Paganini’s. There is a Scherzo and Trio. The main motive of the Scherzo serves as an accompaniment figure in the Trio; and the Trio is noteworthy for being entirely fortissimo. The last movement is a Rondo.
The second sextet, in G major, is outwardly less pleasing; and like much of Brahms’ music is veiled from the casual or unfamiliar listener.
The first movement (allegro non troppo) opens mysteriously with a trill for first viola, which continues through the next thirty-two measures. In the third the first violin announces, mezza voce, the main theme of the movement; of which the chief characteristic is two upward fifths (G—D—E-flat—B-flat). The second theme appears
after an unexpected modulation in D major, and is given to the first violoncello. The striding fifths sound again in the closing measures of the first section. The development begins with these fifths employed as a canon, in contrary motion; and the same intervals play a prominent part in the entire section. The recapitulation is regular. The following Scherzo (Allegro non troppo, G minor) has a touch of Slavic folk-music. There is a Trio section in G major. The slow movement is, as in the earlier sextet, a theme and variations. The last is in sonata form. The first theme may be divided into two wholly contrasting sections, of which the second is melodiously arranged in sixths. The second theme is given out regularly in D major by the violoncello. There is a long coda, animato, which is practically a repetition of much of the development section.
In these sextets and in the three quartets, written many years later, we have the classical model faithfully reproduced. The separate parts are handled with unfailing polyphonic skill; there is the special refinement of expression which, hard to define, is unmistakable in a work that is properly a string quartet.
Opus 51, No. 1, is in C minor. The first theme is given out at once by the first violin; a theme characteristic of Brahms, of long phrases and a certain swinging power. Within the broadly curving line there are impatient breaks; and the effect of the whole is one of restlessness and agitation. This is especially noticeable when, after a contrasting section, the theme is repeated by viola and cello under an agitated accompaniment, and leads to sharp accents. There is no little resemblance between this theme and Brahms’ treatment of it, and the theme of the first movement of the C minor symphony, completed not long before. There is throughout this movement the rhythm, like the sweep of angry waves, which tosses in the first movement of the symphony; an agitation which the second theme (B-flat major, first violin) cannot calm, which only momentarily—as just after the second theme, here, and in the third section of the movement—is subdued.
