February 1985

,

Twenty-six years ago, two more stars were added to the American flag: Alaska and Hawaii became the 49th and 50th members of the United States of America. As they celebrated their silver jubilees last year, the two states offered an interesting study in contrast: Alaska with its awesome glaciers and icy mountains; Hawaii with its

sunny beaches and fiery volcanoes. Ice and Fire. But they also have much in common: spectacular natural beauty, an isolation from the American mainland that adds to the intrigue and fascination they inspire and an impressive story of progress. Both have balanced development with a preservation of their unique natural heritages.

ALASKA

HAWAII

Twenty-six years of statehood for Alaska have been described by some as a rags to riches story, a rocky roller coaster ride from the poorhouse to the penthouse.

The struggling young state which joined the Union in 1959 limped along in its early years with a series of economic woes, exacerbated by the tragedy of major natural disasters. In 1964 the largest earthquake known to have hit the North American continent jolted central Alaska, causing death and extensive damage to Anchorage and Valdez. Three years later the largest flood in the history of Fairbanks brought more loss of life and caused millions of dollars of damage.

But a bonanza was at hand, bringing riches far beyond those dreamed of by the prospectors who journeyed north in 1897-98 in their quest for gold. In 1968, exploration at Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean Coastal Plain yielded oil-billions of barrels of crude waiting to be tapped.

When the trans-Alaska pipeline was finally completed in 1977 and crude began to flow from the oilfields to the port of Valdez, royalties also began to flow into the Alaska state treasury-at the rate of $70 per second.

This new wealth has enabled the state to build roads, schools and sports arenas, to subsidize housing, and even to rent satellite time to bring television events to the state at the same time the rest of the country sees them. The legislature abolished individual state income tax (it had been one of the highest in the nation) and created a Permanent Fund into which 25 percent of the state's oil revenues are placed. Half of the earnings on the fund's investments are distributed to Alaskans each year.

The largest (1,527,464 square kilometers) and the least populated (estimated 438,000 inhabitants) of the 50 states, Alaska is also the fastest growing. Each year its population increases by about 5.3 percent, primarily through migrations.

Many Alaskans originally came for adventure and stayed to call the state home. The richness of the state with its magnificent natural resources, and the lure of its reputation as the nation's last frontier continue to draw people.

But even with all the changes and amenities brought by the infusion of so much money, life in Alaska can still be raw. Many newcomers are ill prepared to cope with it. There are harsh and dramati,cally different climates, remote and isolated areas accessible only by bush plane, long months of winter darkness.

Alaska, traditional home of three major ethnic groupsEskimos, in the frozen north, American Indians in the interior and along main rivers, and Aleuts, ,on a long archipelago

Hawaii has been called a state that reflects the United States in miniature, blending heritages and mirroring the country as a nation of nations.

When Hawaii became the 50th state in 1959, the islands were an underpopulated outpost, dependent primarily on sugarcane and pineapple crops and military spending. Called "the loveliest fleet of islands anchored in any ocean" by Mark Twain, idyllic Hawaii nonetheless was unfamiliar to many.

Prior to the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on the island of Oahu, on December 7, 1941, which drew the United States into World War II, the islands had slept in the sun for years. An archipelago consisting of 132 islands extending for 2,451 kilometers, located in the mid-Pacific Ocean some 4,000 kilometers west-southwest of California, the Hawaiian Islands were unknown to most of the world until English explorer Captain James Cook reached there in 1778. He named them the Sandwich Islands in honor of his patron, the Earl of Sandwich.

By 1800 American ships were calling at Hawaiian ports as part of their trade with China. Merchants, missionaries and whalers followed and American influence on the islands grew.

About the same time, Kamehameha I, a warrior chief, soundly defeated rulers of several islands, whose ancestors had migrated from the Polynesian Islands a millennium or more before. The consolidated lands became the Kingdom of Hawaii.

Throughout the 19th century, American influence grew, sugarcane and pineapples became important crops with contract laborers brought in from China, Japan and elsewhere in the Orient to work them, and immigrants came from a variety of European countries. In 1893 the last monarch, Queen Liliuakalani, was deposed, and the islands were declared a republic; they were annexed by the United States as a territory in 1898.

Statehood and the advent of the jet age about the same time had tremendous impact on Hawaii.

In 1959, 243,000 visitors came to Hawaii; 1983 saw nearly 4.4 million tourists visiting the popular state. Tourism is the state's biggest income producer-far surpassing the old standbys, sugar and pineapples.

Largely because of tourism, the state's population has increased dramatically in the past 25 years, from 632,000 to nearly one million. Most of Hawaii's people live on seven of the eight main islands in the chain, with about 80 percent of them on Oahu, where Honolulu, the state capital, and Waikiki, its famous beach attraction, are located.

The second largest source of income in the state is the

Facingpage, top: A nine-meter-high rivero/molten lava moves down a residential street near Kilauea volcano, on the island of Hawaii. The bunches of weeds in the foreground were placed by scientists to help measure the speed of the lava's advance.

Facing page, below: Bush planes provide a vital link-often the only one-between much of Alaska and the outside world. The assignments oftheiradventuTOus pilots range from transporting sportsmen (as sho Wll here) to supplying mail across vastareas of the rugged country.

arching out into the Bering Sea-had had its first introduction to the outside world with the advent of Russian, and later British and American, fur traders in the mid-1700s. In 1867 the territory was purchased from Russia for the United States by Secretary of State William H. Seward for $7.2 million.

Alaska, from the Aleut "Alyeska" meaning "the great land," was once derisively called Seward's Folly or Seward's Icebox by those who thought the region a wasteland of ice and snow. Today, the richness of its resources-fish, minerals, timber, oil, plus the value of wilderness and wildlife-has paid back the purchase price a thousandfold.

Says Governor William Sheffield, "While we now have convention centers, fine arts pavilions and Olympic-sized hockey rinks, we still have a lot of unspoiled country .... People who come to Alaska are a little different breed. They want to get away, to hunt and to fish, to live their own lives. The frontier spirit is still there."

1. Townspeople wait in the midnightsun by the Yukon Riverat the Arctic circlefora motor vessel bringing in supplies. Alaska's chief waterway, the Yukon is the fifth longest river in North America (3,185 kilometers).

2. Diane Benson, ashareholderoftheSealaska Corporation, drives a truck for a corporation

subsidiary; Sealaska is the largest of a dozen native-owned corporations created by the 1971 Alaska Native Claim Settlement Act.

4. Alaska's wildlife is among thestate's greatest attractions. Here a bear family eyes a salmon at the McNeil Brown Bear Sanctuary.

3. Anchorage, a one-time frontier railroad town, is today booming. With 231,000 people, it is Alaska's most heavily populated city.

S. The trans-Alaska oil pipeline winds across the frozen tundra near Prudhoe Bay. Oil has made once-poor Alaska America's wealthiest state.

4

1. Months of painstaking work goes into the making of the traditional feather cloak of the kind worn by Kamehameha I, the king who first united the Hawaiian islands in the late 7700s.

2. Waikiki Beach and Diamond Head, the extinct volcano overlooking it, on the island of Oahu are a major destination for the 4.4 million tourists who visit Hawaii each year.

3. A youngster learns to string plumeria blooms to make a lei (a garland offlowers).

4. A Hawaiian boy uses a traditional method to harvest salt collected in small ponds on Kuaii.

United States military. Hawaii's strategic location makes it important in the' planning of all branches of the U.S. Armed Forces. And food processing, plus a variety of agricultural enterprises in addition to sugarcane and pineapples continue to be of economic importance to the state.

As Hawaiians look to the future, they speak of economic diversification, of increased trade in the Pacific-Asian basin, of investment and of development of their resources-solar, geothermal, wind and ocean.

There is caution that growth be moderated, and not allowed to get out of hand, as the state attempts to balance its economic needs with its need to retain the isolated, rural and undeveloped areas of the islands, both for the residents and for those who come to experience the undisputed beauty and friendly aloha spirit of the state. ("Aloha" means "love" in the Hawaiian language.)

Hawaii's polyglot society is often looked to as a model.

Overall, the state's diverse ethnic groups coexist with few problems. Today the descendants of the laborers brought in to work in the sugarcane and pineapple fields are the political leaders.

0

5. An artist and his sand sculpture at Waikiki Beach.

6. A young hula dancer; the state has more than a hundred hula schools.

Walt Whitman, that most American of poets (whom we featured in our last issue), once said: "To have great poets, there must be great audiences, too." If this also applies to a magazine, as we think it does, SPAN is fortunate indeed in the quality of its readership. Our Silver Jubilee issue in January brought forth a bountiful harvest of mail which our editors have read and treasured. Several readers responded with verse, a number showed astute critical faculties in analyzing the contents--all demonstrated a great generosity of spirit, an outpouring of affection that has had the same effect on those who put out the magazine that applause has on actors.

Editors read every letter (and every manuscript) that comes to SPAN and we try to acknowledge them. Because of the unusually large response to the 25th anniversary issue, we have fallen behind in this task. We'll catch up, but in the meantime, we want to thank the many thoughtful readers who have written, cabled and composed song and verse. You are a great audience and we will try to live up to you.

It is a happy coincidence that SPAN's jubilee celebration takes place the same year as the Festival of India in the United States. The past few years have seen a remarkable increase in American interest in Inaian culture and appreciation of its artists. The many marvelous exhibitions being planned for the Festival, which will be inaugurated in Washington, D.C., in June, are sure to bring this simmering interest to a boil.

In this month's cover story we feature the work and philosophy of a major American painter, Frank Stella, who has visited India and joyously acknowledges the influence of Indian art on his thinking. We also report on the American Dance Festival, which brought Indian artists to the United States as an indispensable part of an international celebration. The directors of the dance festiv~l, Charles and Stephanie Reinhart, spent several months in India last year. They saw a rich variety of Indian dance and expressed regret that they could bring only a small sampling of the tremendous talent they appreciated here during their visit. "Mou!,onboroIII"(1966)

by Frank Stella They also noted that a sweeping cross-fertilization of different forms of dance is taking~place: Indian artists have brought new depth to the originally American forms of modern dance, and expressions of classical Indian forms are being embraced by American companies and performers. There is a growing audience for Indian classical dance in the United States, Indian artists report, which includes many young people, thus ensuring continuity.

American universities are participating in events connected with the Festival of India, starting this month. Tpe University of Texas is holding a symposium on "India 2000: The Next Fifteen Years" this month in Austin, Texas. Among the participants who will discuss future trends in Indian culture is Chidananda Das Gupta, the former managing editor of SPAN, a distinguished fil~ critic. In March the Woodrow Wilson School of International Affairs at Princeton University will hold a conference on Indian democracy that will feature outstanding Indian and American government officials, journalists and economists. One of America's outstanding women's colleges, Sarah Lawrence, plans a four-day seminar on the impact of industrialization and urbanization on the lives of women in India and the United States. These are just a sampling of the many events planned for this year which we believe will turn Americans' heightened interest in India into a more thorough understanding of the nation and its society.

SPAN expects to report on both the cultural and the intellectual events of this year's Festival so that our readers can share in the excitement of an ambitious program that may prove a landmark in Indo-American relations.

February 1985

SPAN Hawaii and Alaska-Fire

and Ice

by Sandy Greenberg

An Editor's Best Friend

by Emily Morison Beck

9 The Right to be Let Alone

by A.G. Noorani

12 The Birds, the Bees and the Plants

by Mary Batten

America's Scholar Journalist

by HH Anniah Gowda

20 Stella's Stellar Quality

by Caroline Jones

27 On the Lighter Side

28 Winnebago Carnival

by Jan Hoffman

31 The Bluegrass Folk

by James H Feldman

34 The Seeds of Prosperity

by Ervell Menezes and Aruna Dasgupta

36 A Chip of Silicon Valley in India

by V.N. Narayanan

38 An Economist's Prescription A Telepress Conference With Paul Samuelson

43 The Golden Days of Dance Are Here

by Kayleen Polichetti

Publisher Editor

James A. McGinley Mal Oettinger

Managing Editor

Himadri Dhanda

Assistant Managing Editor

Krishan Gabrani

Senior Editor

Aruna Dasgupta

Copy Editor

Nirmal Sharma

Editorial Assistant Photo Editor

Rocque Fernandes Avinash Pasricha

Photographs: Front cover-© Rick Stafford. Inside front cover, top-Ken Sakamoto/Black Star; bottom-Joel Rogers. 2-Pix # 1, 3, 5-Joel Rogers; # 2-Sealaska Corporation; # 4-Elizabeth A. Mills.

3-Pix # 1 & 6-David HiseriPhotographer's.Aspen; # 2-© Morton Elliott Varner Smith; # 5-Paul Chesley/ Beebe; # 3 & 4-© Photographer's Aspen. 4-Greg Heins; collection of Mr. & Mrs. Graham Gund. 6,7-courtesy Little, Brown & Company. I3-D.H. Thomson, courtesy Oxford Scientific Films. 16 top-J.A.L. Cooke; bottom-David Thomson; both courtesy Oxford Scientific Films.

17-Rollei McKenna. 2I-Greg Heins; collection of Mr. & Mrs. Graham Gund. 24-Bruce C. Jones; collection of Mr. & Mrs. Graham Gund. 25-© Rick Stafford. 28-courtesy Cresswell, Munsell, Fultz, & Zirbel Inc. 29-courtesy Winnebago Industries Inc., Forest City, Iowa.

31, 33-Avinash Pasricha. 34-35-courtesy Cooperative League of USA. 36 top & bottom right-Thakur Paramjit; bottom left-Yog Joy. 39-R. K. Sharma. 40-Ara Guier. 43 top left-Bishu Nandi; bottom left-C!. Bricage; right-Pilobolus Dance Company. 44-Jane Hamborsky. 46-Shantanu Sheorey. 47 top left-Mahindra Singh; rightBishu Nandi; bottom-Nadesh Naoroji. 48, inside back cover, bottom right-Avinash Pasricha. Back cover-Fred Maroon.

Published by the United States Information Service, American Center, 24 Kasturba Gandhi Marg, New Delhi 110001, on behalf of the American Embassy, New Delhi. The opinions expressed in this magazine do not necessarily reflect the views or policies of the U.S. Government. Printed by Raj Kumar Wadhwa at Thomson Press (India) Limited, Faridabad, Haryana.

Use of SPAN articles in other publications is encouraged, except when copyrighted. For permission write to the Editor. Price of magazine, one year's subscription (12 issues) Rs.25; single copy.

Rs. 4. For change

of address

send an old address

from a recent

SPAN

envelope

along

with new address to Circulation Manager. SPAN magazine. 24 Kasturba Gandhi Marg, New Delhi

110001.

See change

of address

form

on page 44h.

Front cover: Frank Stella with a painting from his "Indian Birds" seriesPachanak.

Painted in mixed media on etched magnesium and honeycomb aluminum, it projects the "sense of texture and color" that, to him, means India. An interview with Stella appears on page 20.

Back cover: The Washington Monument-a centuryold landmark. See also inside back cover.

oone in 1855 could have foreseen that a modest little volume of 258 pages, bound in cardboard and the size of a postcard, would mushroom into the immense tome of 1,600 pages that serves as a cornerstone of most libraries in the English-speaking world. Familiar Quotations was the creation of John Bartlett, for whom-to paraphrase Melville's remark about the whaleship being Ishmael's Yale and Harvard-the University Book Storein Cambridge, Massachusetts, wascollege.

Bartlett was born in Plymouth, Massachusetts, in 1820, graduated at 16 from the local public school, and turned from the family tradition of seafaring to bookselling. At 29 he became the proprietor of the University Book Store, which gave him his start. He had already developed a reputation for erudition, which caused professors and students alike to "ask

N

Copyright

Š

Reprinted

by permission

1984 American Herilagc Publishing Company. Inc. from American Heritage.

John Bartlett" about a book, an author, or a quotation. He found it useful to keep a commonplace book, which became the basis for a collection of the most popular quotations arranged chronologically and with the sources given. As a service to his friends and clients, he published it himself at the age of 35 in an edition of 1,000 copies. His brief preface told the reader that "the object of this work is to show ... the obligations our language owes to various authors for numerous phrases and familiar quotations which have become 'household words.'"

The first edition of Familiar Quotations quoted from 169 authors. The Bible and Shakespeare took up about a third of the text; the balance was chiefly English poetry- with Milton, Pope, Wordsworth and Byron leading the way. There was a scattering of prose from Milton, Bacon, Benjamin Franklin, Tom Paine, Macaulay and one maxim from La Rochefoucauld: "Hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue." No Blake,

An Editor's Best Friend

by EMILY MORISON

BECK

Erudite editors and witty writers have a secret weapon when they set out to impress readers.

They have handy the wisdom of the world within the covers of Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.

Shelley, or various other authors who could not have been much upon the tongue in the mid-19th century. A mere handful of Americans was included-Washington Irving, William Cullen Bryant, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (a neighbor), James Russel Lowell (close friend and whist partner)-and a line each from "Hail, Columbia," "The Star-Spangled Banner" and "The Old Oaken Bucket." There were no quotations from Washington, John Adams, jefferson, Lincoln, or even Emerson (who made it by the third edition three years later) Walt Whitman published Leaves of Grass that same year, and Thoreau's Walden had appeared the year before, but neither would be in Familiar Quotations until the 10th edition, in 1914.

Bartlett's venture was a success. In 1863 he joined Little, Brown and Company, which issued the fourth edition of his book that same year and has published all subsequent editions.

In 1878 Bartlett became a senior partner of Little, Brown and edited six more enlarged editions of Familiar Quotations.

Harvard awarded him an honorary Master's degree in 1871, and he was made a fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. In 1889 he retired from the firm to work on his Complete Concordance to Shakespeare's Dramatic Works and Plays, which was published in 1894. He died in 1905, at the age of 85.

Bartlett's successor, Nathan Haskell Dole, poet, editor and translator from the French and Russian, edited the 10th edition, published in 1914 and now grown six times the size of the first edition. His criteria, like Bartlett's, were that quotations have the "seal of popular approval" and be "distinctly worthy of perpetuation." Dole sought to add new quotations "from the best writers of their day." He was most respectful of Bartlett and wrote in his preface that "it is not always easy for Elisha to wear the mantle of Elijah; but it is Elisha's business to carryon his predecessor's work in the same spirit." Among many new authors now included (besides Thoreau and Whitman) were Lewis Carroll, W.S. Gilbert, Nietzsche, Shaw, the novelists George Eliot and George Moore (but no Hawthorne, Melville, or Henry James), the poets Swinburne, Hardy, Stevenson, Housman, Kipling, Yeats (with one quote), but still no Blake or Emily Dickinson.

By the 11th edition, published in 1937, Elijah's mantle had passed to the writer, poet and editor Christopher Morley and the associate editor Louella D. Everett, a noted quotation-find.er for The New York Times who had also published anthologies and was especially knowledgeable in popular light verse. Of their joint editorship, Morley wrote in his preface: "One of the pleasures of re-editing has been that one collaborator, by long experience with inquiries for the affable familiar ghost of print, knows acutely what readers want; and the other believes himself to know what they ought to want. They have striven for a happy compromise."

For the first time the editors removed quotations no longer relevant or familiar, a delicate task that since then has been performed for every edition. The editors added not only to 20th-century quotations but also to every period from ancient times on, reflecting the erudition of Morley in particular and possibly a broadening cultural outlook of the nation as well.

Between 1914 and 1937 the extraordinary post-World War I age had flowered, and the changes in the text of the 11th edition are more striking than in any other. Besides such contemporary authors as Auden, Eliot, Joyce, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, Willa Cather, Sherwood Anderson, Langston

Hughes, Bertrand Russell, Virginia Woolf, Will Rogers and Ezra Pound, authors of earlier eras were added: Blake, Hawthorne, Melville, the Jameses at last, Turgenev, Dostoevsky, Emily Dickinson, Sara Orne Jewett, Hesiod, Aesop, Plutarch, Marcus Aurelius and Omar Khayyam.

Morley's 1937 preface asks at the outset the question every Bartlett editor must try to answer: "What makes words memorable?" His theory of selection was broader than John Bartlett's. "Previous editions adhered, almost with pedantry, to the touchstones of familiarity," he wrote. "This edition is not so stringent: we have tried to make literary power the criterion rather than the width and vulgarity of fame."

"Literary power" is so much more a matter of personal opinion than "familiarity" that this new approach tempted future editors to exploit their literary passions. Restraint has been necessary to keep the volume from either becoming idiosyncratic or growing into an anthology.

Morley thought that his 11th edition would last until 1960, but World War II and the atomic age necessitated an updating.

"Man ... was saying words that had to be recorded," Morley realized. So in 1948 the 12th edition appeared, to which Morley and Everett added new quotations from (among many others) Churchill, Hitler, Einstein, Truman, Charter of the United Nations, Douglas MacArthur and Walter Lippmann.

"The duty of stoical old Bartlett," Morley wrote, "is to hand on, without fear or favor, what looks to be most memorable of men's joy, suspicion and dismay," a policy that has been followed ever since.

By 1952 Little, Brown was anticipating the centennial edition of Familiar Quotations, but this time the publishers decided to try their hand at putting together the new edition themselves, without depending on outside editors. Two not particularly literary officers of Little, Brown took on the task.

That year a friend of mine was offered the job of processing the deletions and collating the new quotations, but she wanted to leave and get married, and proposed that I apply for the job.

I found myself in possession of a copy of the Morley 12th edition, all marked up for removal of quotes by the two Little, Brown editors who, I was told, would supply the new quotations. I set to work and soon discovered the editors' unfamiliarity with many of the great quotations. The passage in Richard II beginning "This royal throne of kings, this sceptered

I

F'defUohn

Ba,,',u,

the creator and first editor of Familiar Quotations. This photograph was taken in 1890-35 years after the first edition of the book was published. Left: Emily Morison Beck, the current editor and author of this article.

isle,rrhis earth of majesty, this seat of Mars," and including "This happy breed of men" and "This precious stone set in the silver sea," was marked to go because, as the marginal note said, it was too "chauvinistic." I wrote a memo declaring that this was one of Shakespeare's noblest, most renowned passages. The reply came, "If you think it's familiar, keep it in."

Another line they wanted out as "sentimental" was Tennyson's "Flower in the crannied wall," which I also saved. And so it went.

Luckily for the centennial edition, a brilliant copy editor, Jack Rackliffe, who had been an assistant in the English department at Harvard, came aboard. In the course of his reading and correcting of texts in the new edition, he pointed out a number of omissions, from Shakespeare on down to Yeats. Thus the editing of the centennial edition was turned upside down, with the fellow on the bottom emerging as the true savant and arbiter, with me, the tyro who was cutting her teeth on quotations, in the middle, and with the casual, uncritical editors at the top.

In the end a respectable centennial edition was published in 1955 (there were some errors of course, for as Samuel Johnson put it, "Dictionaries are like watches; the worst is better than none, and the best cannot be expected to go quite true"). In typing up the Preamble of the U.S. Constitution (included for the first time), my eye jumped over one of the important phrases, and instead of "provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare," I typed an elision: "provide for the common welfare." No one picked it up until a reader wrote in to ask what version of the Constitution we had used.

Eight years passed, and Little, Brown decided it was time for a new edition. The former editors had left, and the chairman of the board came across my blizzard of memos in the files.

Perhaps I might do? I was sounded out in a typically Bostonian offhand way: "I don't suppose you'd be interested in editing the next edition of Bartlett, would you?" I replied that I would be, provided I could hire a staff of experts in different fields who would select the familiar quotes with proper sources. That was agreed to.

Since the publication of the 13th, centennial edition a decade before, many people had achieved world renown and uttered memorable remarks-Camus, Dag Hammarskj6ld, Pope John XXIII, Gandhi. John F. Kennedy, Robert Oppenheimer, Albert

Schweitzer-and phrases had emerged: the beat generation, brinkmanship, the Great Society, the affluent society, the multiversity, cybernetics, racism, the revolution of rising expectations, the American Establishment. Translations from the classics had to be overhauled and brought into the 20th century. Homer hitherto had appeared in Familiar Quotations only in Pope's translation, of which Pope's contemporary, the classicist Richard Bentley, remarked, "It is a very pretty poem, Mr. Pope, but you must not call it Homer." It was Zeph Stewart who now translated Homer and, along with Dudley Fitts, other classical authors.

(Stewart had be-en shocked to find "Man is the measure of all things" missing from Protagoras, and that might have goaded him into taking up the challenge of "doing" the classics, which he did superbly.)

Other famous quotations had been overlooked in previous editions. "There is always something new out of Africa" (Pliny); "But it does move" (Galileo); "There go the ships" (Psalm 104); "When I am dead and opened you shall find 'Calais' lying on my heart" (Mary Tudor); "But that was in another country; and besides, the wench is dead" (Marlowe); "One man with courage makes a majority" (Andrew Jackson); "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (Santayana); "Surprised by joy" (Wordsworth); "E = mc2" (Einstein); "Q.E.D." (Euclid); "Wa"r is much too serious a matter to be entrusted to the military" (Clemenceau); "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step" (Laotzu); "I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken" (Cromwell), a saying that Judge Learned Hand wished to have "written over the portals of every church, every school, every courthouse and ... every legislative body in the United States."

Errors had persisted-one for over a hundred years: the misquotation of the title of Gray's "Elegy." The word "Written" was omitted before "in a Country Churchyard." It had escaped all the editors and proofreaders and copy editors, and it was the organist in my church who pointed it out to me.

As in previous editions, we had fun with the footnotes, not only adding interesting cross-references but also inserting occasional parodies of passages quoted. One of my favorites is James K. Stephen's takeoff on the Wordsworth poem that goes: "Two voices are there: one is of the sea,/One of tht::_mountains ... " Stephen's version reads, "Two voices are there: one is of the deep/And one is of an old half-witted sheep/Which bleats -articulate monotony,/ And indicates that two and one are three.!

And, Wordsworth, both are thine."

The blue-bound 14th edition came out in 1968 and did so well that during some years it sold as many as 50,000 copies.

By 1976 Little, Brown was looking ahead to its 125th anniversary, and it was decided that a suitable commemorative. publication would be a new edition of Bartlett-the 15th. The first thing Jack Rackliffe, the superb copy editor of the 14th edition, and I did was to go through the old edition of Bartlett and mark passages to go.

But of course the primary mission of a Bartlett editor is to assemble appropriate quotations from the years since the previous edition, again using the criteria of "familiar" or "worthy of perpetuation." The new edition also should reflect recent developments in scholarship regarding earlier authors, new editions and fresh translations. Quotations not included before suddenly take on relevance and significance in the light of changing tastes and attitudes.

And during every revision, the editors discover old familiar quotations that somehow never got into Bartlett. Some of these are "Love of wisdom [philosophy] the guide of life," the Greek phrase for the Phi Beta Kappa Society (John Heath); " ... in politics the middle way is none at all" (John Adams); "God is dead" (Nietzsche); "There's nothing surer,lThe rich get rich and the poor get poorer,lIn the meantime, in between time, Ain't we got fun" (Gus Kahn); "Life is unfair" (John F. Kennedy); "I have a dream" (Martin Luther King); "This land is your land, this land is my land" (Woody Guthrie); "From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever" (Chief Joseph); "You can't hold a man down without staying down with him" (Booker T. Washington-attributed).

Blacks are better represented in the latest edition, as are North American Indians and women. Altogether we added more than 400 authors, among them Queen Hatshepsut, Pythagoras, Plotinus, Giordano Bruno, Tecumseh, George Sand, Frederick Douglass, Frederick Law Olmsted, Susan B. Anthony, Cavafy, Apollinaire, Knute Rockne, Kenyatta, Cole Porter, Brecht, Borges, George Seferis, Malraux, Ana"isNin, Moss Hart, Pablo Neruda, Pope John Paul II, Randall Jarrell, Sylvia Plath, Bob Dylan, Mick Jagger and Steve Biko.

People often ask, "How do you go about getting quotes?"

There are various ways, the best, I think, being to list famous or important people not yet in Familiar Quotations or inadequately represented, and then to go through their chief works. When in the course of reading one finds a good quote with the author mentioned but not the source, the problem of identification is challenging. There was, for instance, a quotation from Flaubert that I read in Graham Greene's autobiography: "Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars."

How I wanted to include that, but where could I find it in the extensive prose and fictional works of Flaubert? I nearly despaired, but in the course of reading Madame Bovary (not even mentioned in Familiar Quotations), the sentence leaped forth from the page-serendipity!

And serendipity served beautifully more than once. One quotation fascinated me: "We work in the dark-we do what we can-we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion, and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art." It was from He,nryJames, I knew-but where? I was prepared to simply put it in with the credit Attributed-a cop~out, of course. Then one day I read an article by Truman Capote, who quoted this passage and said he thought it came from The Middle Years. So I dashed off to the library and got hold of James' autobiographical work. I read it all the way through-but found no wonderful quote. Then I chanced to read the editor's note at the end-the title was taken, he said, from James' short story of the same name. So back to the stacks I went for the collected stories, turned to "The Middle

Years" and on the next-to-Iast page there was the quote!

One more such example: I had put into the 14th edition-with an inadequate credit, because I had read it in The New York Times obituary of Albert Camus-a beautiful, stirring quote: "In the depth of winter I finally learned that within me lay an invincible summer." Years later, working on the 15th edition, I searched throughout the works of Camus for the true source of this quote, without success. Then one evening, on an impulse, I took down from my bookcase a recent collection of his essays to read for pleasure. I was reading one of them, "Return to Tipasa," about his coming back to a beloved place in Algeria where he spent summers in his youth. Something about the text made me alert-and 10, there toward the end was the quotation-more serendipity.

Finally the galleys arrived to be read, corrected-and to include at the last minute such finds as "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil" from the "Three Wise Monkeys," which, incredibly, appears in no other quotation book. The 15th edition was published on time for Little, Brown's 125th anniversary.

A few years ago the Tavern Club in Boston did a skit on Familiar Quotations created by¡the late Andrew Oliver. It was called "Mrs. Bartlett's Midnight-mare" and is an epic made up from real quotes: I wander lonely, as a cloud that floats on high My heart leapsup when I behold a rainbow in the sky The window's panes are in its sash, I wonder why.

The ice is there, the ice is here On the opposite shore rides Paul Revere His brow is wet with honest sweat Thefeast is set, the guests are met Eternal summer gilds them, yet How the farmers gave them ball for ball, Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all The curfew tolled the knell of parting day And when the sun set where were they?

I meta traveler from an antique land I knew his heart, I knew his hand We stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs And looked at each other with a wild surmise.

The sea was calm that night, the tide was full A boy stood on the burning deck The blessed damoselleaned out and wept, I heard her tears She was the darling of my heart and she lived in our alley Oh how she walked in beauty like the night!

OMary, go and call the cattle home, across the sands o'Dee Under a spreading chestnut tree The splendor falls on castle walls The harp that once through Tara's halls Like a thing of beauty is a joy forever Lookonmyworks, yemighty, and despair!

Earth hath not anything to show more fair U nwept, unhonored, and unsung Nothing beside remains!

"We're lost," the Captain shouted.

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!"

t

27th

. ' Howard Ta,f Wdham h United States, President of ~~ief Justice. In a later became 'nvolving telefamous 192~ cas~el ruled that the phone ta~pmg, id nothing about constitutwn ~a by telephone. . g pnvacy . protectm.

Taft's narrow Vlewtlce Chief Jus l d by later Su. twas overru e .. ItS Pom Court deClSW . preme

Jus .

.' tlce Louis B~ . champion IF' andels was a oJ mdiv'd I ual rtg' his wh ose viel1C~ th " were h b' e decisions th ar mgers of lie dissented fi at would fOllow T. ,1: rom Ch' . aJts conclusion h lef JUStice tapping was t ~t telephone USe permlssibl. '.

Onstitution e. The preted to fit mUst be inter_ J.. acha' USttceBrand' . ngmg world J

elS

said.

J

The Right to be Let Alone "The makers of our Constitution undertook to secure conditions favorable to the pursuit of happiness. They recognized the significance of man's spiritual nature, of his feelings and of his intellect.

They knew that only a part of the pain, pleasure and satisfactions of life are to be found in material things. They sought to protect Americans in their beliefs, their thoughts, their emotions and their sensations. They conferred as against the Government, the right to be let alonethe most comprehensive of rights and the right most valued by civilized men."

These moving words of Justice Louis

Dembitz Brandeis received surprisingly little contemporary attention when they were said in the course of his dissenting opinion in the famous telephone-tapping case, Olmstead vs United States, in 1928.

Today, his censure of the practice is part of conventional legal wisdom. The dissent is regarded as one of the most eloquent in American legal iiterature and of seminal importance in the history of the U.S. Supreme Court.

It was, in truth, a repetition of a similar achievement by Brandeis nearly four decades earlier. As a young man he had written an article for the Harvard Law

in 1890 in collaboration with his friend and law partner, Samuel Warren.

Entitled "The Right to Privacy," it won instant attention.

The article reflected a deep concern for the inviolability of human personality. Its main thrust was against the intrusions of the press, especially in view of the invention of "instantaneous photography." But there was a reference also to "mechanical devices" which "threaten to make good the prediction that 'what is whispered in the closet shall be proclaimed from the house-tops.' " In the Olmstead case the majority led Review

by Chief Justice Taft adopted an extremely narrow approach. It ruled that evidence of telephone conversations obtained by wiretapping was not violative of the Fourth Amendment's guarantee of the people's right "to be secure in their persons, houses ... against unreasonable searches and seizures."

Taft had a neat explanation: "There was no searching. There was no seizure .... There was no entry of the houses." The wires which were tapped were outside the houses. The logic impressed most.

Brandeis dissented because his concept of constitutional interpretation was basically different. "Clauses guaranteeing to the individual protection against specific abuses of power must have a ... capacity of adaptation to a changing world," he said. He pointed out that since the Constitution was enacted, "subtler and more far-reaching means of invading privacy have become available to the Government. Discovery and invention have made it possible for ~he Government, by means far more effective than stretching upon the rack, to obtain disclosure in Court of what is whispered in the closet. " eprophetically predicted that "The progress of science in furnishing the Government with means of espionage is not likely to stop with wiretapping. Ways may some day be developed by which the Government, without removing papers from secret drawers, can reproduce them in Court, and by which it will be enabled to expose to a jury the most intimate occurrences of the home."

Brandeis lost the day but "the right to be let alone," which he had propounded for 40 years, eventually won acceptance from the Supreme Court. On January 22, 1973, the Court noted that though "the Constitution does not explicitly mention any right of privacy ... the Court has recognized that a right of personal privacy, or a guarantee of certain areas or zones of privacy, does exist under the Constitution. " How did the Court come to accord this recognition? The story is as fascinating as the case in which this acknowledgment was made was sensational-the Abortion Case, Roe vs Wade. Between it and the Brandeis dissent lay 45 years of judicial creativity through the time-honored method of trial and error.

The Court was compelled by the "tres-

H

pass doctrine" of the Olmstead ruling to condone listening devices and thus render it even more pernicious-and more offensive to public opinion. By 1967 electronic eavesdropping gadgets had become far more sophisticated and common and it was time to bury the "trespass doctrine. " In Katz vs United States the Court performed the obsequial ceremonies with admirable finesse. "Once this much is acknowledged, and once it is recognized that the Fourth Amendment protects people-and not simply 'areas'-against unreasonable searches and seizures, it becomes clear that the reach of that Amendment cannot turn upon the presence or absence of a physical intrusion into any given enclosure.

"The Government's activities in electronically listening to and recording the petitioner's words violated the privacy upon which he justifiably relied while using the telephone booth and thus constituted a 'search and seizure' within the meaning of the Fourth Amendment."

In his superb book on great dissents and great dissenters in the U.S. Supreme Court, Prophets With Honor,¡ Alan Barth opines that it is impossible to say precisely what effect Brandeis' dissent had on changing the Court's opinion on the right to privacy. That it impelled reflection is undeniable. Brandeis set a fine example by his insights. Brandeis' "great contribution was that he looked beyond the Fourth Amendment's words-and discerned their meaning; he read the letter of the Constitution-and saw its spirit."

The Justices who came after him and emulated this example achieved results which Brandeis would have heartily endorsed. The first such result came even before Katz in the famous birth control case of 1965, Griswold vs Connecticut. A Connecticut statute made the use of contraceptives a criminal offence. Estelle T. Griswold, executive director of the Planned Parenthood League of Connecticut, and another officer of the League were arrested, tried and convicted of the offence.

Each was fined $100. The Supreme Court set aside the conviction.

The doctrine which it enunciated transcended in importance the facts of that case. It was the high noon of the Warren Court. Delivering the opinion, Justice Douglas said: "Specific guarantees in the Bill of Rights have penumbras, formed by emanations from those guarantees that help give them life and substance.

... Various guarantees create zones of privacy. The right of association contained in the penumbra of the First Amendment is one, as we have seen. The Third Amendment in its prohibition against the quartering of soldiers 'in any house' in time of peace without the consent of the owner is another facet of that privacy. The Fourth Amendment explicitly affirms the 'right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures.' The Fifth Amendment in its Self-Incrimination Clause enables the citizen to create a zone of privacy which government may not force him to surrender to his detriment. The Ninth Amendment provides: 'The enumeration in the Constitution, of certain rights, shall not be construed to deny or disparage others retained by the people.' " And, surely, the right to privacy in the bedroom was not created by the Constitution. It belonged to the people and was "retained" by them. "We deal with a right of privacy older than the Bill of Rights-older than our political parties, older than our school system. Marriage is a coming together for better or for worse, hopefully enduring, and intimate to the degree of being sacred. It is an association that promotes a way of life, not causes; a harmony in living, not political faiths; a bilateral loyalty , not commercial or social projects. Yet it is an association for as noble a purpose as any involved in our prior decisions."

If Connecticut could not prevent married couples from using contraceptives, nor would Massachusetts outlaw their sale to single persons when these were legally available to married ones. The Court said six years later: "If the right of privacy means anything, it is the right of the individual, married or single, to be free from unwarranted governmental intrusion into matters so fundamentally affecting a person as the decision whether to bear or beget a child." Whatever the rights of the individual to access to contraceptives may be, the rights must be the same for the unmarried and the married alike.

In 1973 came the Abortion Case, Roe vs Wade. A Texas statute made it a crime to "procure an abortion" except on medical advice in order to save the life of the mother. The Court ruled (seven to two) that the right to privacy encompasses a woman's decision whether or not to terminate her pregnancy. It is not an

absolute right, though. The State can impose proper. medical safeguards in order to safeguard the mother's health.

Besides, the State was free to prohibit abortion altogether from the time a fetus becomes viable except on medical grounds. Tersely put, "the right of personal privacy includes the abortion decision, but this right is not unqualified and must be considered against important State interests in regulations."

F

our years later the Court struck down as unconstitutional a New York statute which made it a crime (1) for anyone to sell or distribute contraceptives to minors under the age of 16; (2) for anyone other than a licensed pharmacist to distribute contraceptives to persons over the age of 16; and (3) for anyone to advertise or display contraceptives.

The Court succinctly summed up the progress in the new field of the right to privacy: "This right of personal privacy includes 'the interest in independence in making certain kinds of important decisian.' While the outer limits of this aspect of privacy have not been marked by the Court, it is clear that among the decisions that an individual may make without unjustified government interference are personal decisions relating to marriage, procreation, contraception, family relationships, and child rearing and education. The decision whether or not to beget or bear a child is at the very heart of this cluster of constitutionallyprotected choices. That decision holds a particularly important place in the history of the right of privacy .... " The Court however clarified that the business of manufacturing and selling contraceptives can be regulated by the State without infringing individual choices. It recalled its ruling in the Abortion Case that certain State interests-such as safeguarding health and protecting potential life-may at some point become sufficiently compelling to sustain State regulation. "'Compelling' is, of course, the key word."

In keeping with these tests, the Court struck down in 1979 a law which imposed two restrictions on unmarried minors' right to obtain an abortion-parental consent or judicial authorization.

In turn, recognition of the right of privacy affected the law of libel significantly. The press celebrated the victory in The New York Times Company vs Sullivan (1964). The Supreme Court

ruled that a public official cannot recover damages even for a defamatory falsehood "relating to his official conduct unless he proves that the statement was made with 'actual malice'-that is, with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not."

The press had no reason to be happy with later clarifications by the Court.

Who is a public figure? The Court answered in 1974 that the designation "may rest on either of two alternative bases. In some instances, an individual may achieve such pervasiv'e fame or notoriety that he becomes a public figure for all purposes and in all contexts. More commonly, an individual voluntarily injects himself or is drawn into a particular public controversy and thereby becomes a public figure for a limited range of issues. In either case, 'such persons assume special prominence in the resolution of public questions."

These clarifications reached a point where the Court ruled in 1979 that "a private individual is not automatically transformed into a public figure just by becoming involved in a matter that attracts public attention A libel defendant must show more than m,ere newsworthiness to justify application of the demanding burden (of the 'actual malice' standard)."

The Court denied that "any person who engages in criminal conduct automatically becomes a public figure for purposes of comment on a limited range of issues relating to his conviction. " The Court has also reminded the press that it has "carefully left open the question" whether truth is a defense in a libel action brought by a private individual as distinguished from a public figure.

Whether "truthful publication of very private matters unrelated to public affairs could be constitutionally proscribed" is very much an open question, still. In other words, can the State "ever define and protect an area of privacy free from unwanted publicity in the press"? The answer cannot long be put off.

The rightto privacy has affected the law of obscenity also. "Whatever may be the justification for other statutes regulating obscenity, we do not think they reach into the privacy of one's own home. A State has no business telling a man, sitting alone in his house, what books he may read orwhat films he may watch, Our whole constitutional heritage rebels at the thought of giving government the power to control men's minds," the Court said.

But the Court was astute to repel Richard Nixon's challenge to the Presidential Recordings and Materials Preservation Act, 1974, on the ground, among others, that it violated his right to privacy in respect of his papers and tapes.

"We may agree with the appellant (Nixon) that, at least when Government intervention is at stake, public officials, including the President, are not wholly without constitutionally protected privacy rights in matters of personal life unrelated to any acts done by them in their personal capacity."

But there was a clear public interest in subjecting the papers and the tapes to "archival screening."

The Act provided for regulations aimed at preventing undue dissemination of private materials.

Purely private papers and recordings were to be returned to Nixon under the Act. But, as Brandeis had feared, the advances of science have posed new dangers to the individual's privacy. Computerstored data contains details of a person's life from the moment of his birth.

Schools, colleges, corporations (which employ millions in the country), hospitals, credit institutions and, of course, government agencies, leave little unrecorded.

As a study on the legal protection of privacy points out, "Until such time that there are substantive legal safeguards to control the use of stored data, the dangers of serious violations of personal privacy will continue to be a problem in American society."

Such safeguards of the right as now exist are mostly creatures of the Supreme Court. Federal legislation is sparse. State legislation varies a good deal. The Supreme Court has already laid a solid foundation for new safeguards to meet new threats to personal liberty of which the right to privacy is a valuable part.

Therein lies the relevance of its labors for India. A decade ago the Supreme Court of India decided a case concerning the right of privacy. It referred to Brandeis' famous article and to his dissent in the Olmstead case and ruled: "If the Court does find that a claimed right is entitled to protection as a fundamental privacy right, a law infringing it must satisfy the compelling State interest test."

Indian lawyers will follow closely the U.S. Supreme Court's efforts to protect the individual's right to be let alone.

0 About the Author: A. G. Noorani is a Bombay-based lawyer and a regular contributor to SPAN.

The Birds,the Bees and the Plants For plants, three isn't a crowd, it's a necessity.

Rooted to one spot, far away from a mate, they use their odor, color or food to attract birds and insects-and then use them as unwitting gobetweens to pass on pollen to the mate.

An orchid that looks, smells and even feels like a female bee sexually arouses the real male. When the bee tries to mate with the flower, it pollinates it instead. The inconspicuous green blossoms of Blakea chlorantha lure a forest rat. As the tiny rodent laps nectar, it puts pressure on the petals, triggering a mechanism that ejects pollen. With a face full of pollen, the rat moves on to another blossom. The giant arum lily gives. off a reeking odor that spreads as the plant's temperature rises. The smell is so vile that some people faint when they get too close, but the stench attracts the carrion beetle-the lily's only pollinator.

Do plants really do these things? It's hard to believe. in fact, it's hard to think of a plant, which can't even move unless there's a breeze, doing anything more energetic than blooming. But plants, in their efforts to consummate their reproductive acts, are among the most outrageous manipulators of nonplant behavior in the entire world.

For animals, mating requires only two.

Three's a crowd. But for most plants, it's a necessity. Male and female may be a kilometer apart. And since nobody, not even plants, can mate by ESP [extrasensory perception], some intermediary is needed.

Even though most plants are hermaphrodites-producing flowers with both male and female organs-they need an agent to transfer the male's genes, contained in pollen grains, to the female parts of the blossom. Wind and water are the transfer agents for some plants, but most depend on animals, particularly flying insects.

When you think of it, plant reproduction poses a seemingly impossible problem: how to sit still in one place and attract mobile creatures who'll serve your needs without consuming your resources. But plants have methods that are nothing short of ingenious.

By dressing their sexual organs up in flowers, plants tease, seduce and trick animals into doing all kinds of things. Why do animals fall for the ruse? Food and sex. It's all in whetting the appetite.

By the use of an odor and temperature, the European family of arum lilies can attract beetles and flies. When the insects land on a flower, they slide down an Reprinted from Science Digest, Copyright lion. All rights reserved.

Š

1983 The Hearst Corpora-

oilcoated surface into a -slippery chamber barricaded by little hairs. While imprisoned, the insects gorge themselves on a slimy, sweet sap produced by the flower's female parts. During the first day of confinement, th'e male flower's stamens open and bombard the insects with pollen grains. The next day, the insects, now "tarred and feathered" with pollen, are permitted to escape from the flower, whose hairy barricade has lost its stiffness. They then fly to another lily and unwittingly deposit pollen.

Although sexual reproduction in most flowering plants depends on insects, some plants also make mammals-bats, monkeys, even rats-their go-betweens. A New World tropical forest plant, Blakea chlorantha, depends on nocturnal, tree-dwelling rats for pollination. To attract its helpers, the plant's pendulous flowers produce nectar only at night. It's probably odor that guides the_rats to the flowers, says Cecile Lumer, of the New York Botanical Garden, who recently discovered this relationship after sitting up many nights in a forest.

The tiny flower, less than four centimeters long, is pressure sensitiVe. As the rat dines on nectar, it holds the flower's petals with its front paws. This creates enough pressure to cause pollen to be ejected and stick on the rat's face. When the rat goes to the next flower to feed, the pollen will rub off on the female structures, the stigmas.

Most plants are surprisingly picky. They evolve specialized structures that attract only a few pollinators or perhaps just one.

At the same time, the pollinators develop various structures and behaviors that enable them to harvest a particular plant's nectar or pollen. This process i~ known as coevolution-the behavior of one responding to the behavior of the other. In this evolutionary feedback system, both the plant and the pollinator typically benefit.

Nowhere has coevolution taken more bizarre twists than among orchids and the animals that pollinate them. Between 10,000 and 15,000 species of orchids are known. According to Calaway Dodson, director of the Marie Selby Botanical Garden in Sarasota, Florida, and Robert Dressler, of the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, orchids have developed so many different species primarily to attract different kinds of pollinators.

The lower lips of this cunning orchid, known as Coryanthes,form a bucket and fill with water. When bees arrive, attracted by the odor, they fall in.

To escape they must pass through a narrow tunnel where yellow pollen sacs rub offon their abdomens, later to be left with another flower.

Orchids come in an incredible variety of colors, sizes and shapes, with the flowers designed to fit particular body parts of such diverse pollinators as bees, bats, butterflies, moths, flies and birds. Flowers that lure birds have no odor but are brilliantly colored, usually scarlet, which appeals to the birds' strong visual sense. Color is also important to bees, but you won't find red in bee flowers because bees are blind to red.

But why would a plant want to restrict the variety of pollinators? It is, in a sense, a mechanism by which the plant prevents intermarriage, particularly in the crowded tropical environment in which most orchids grow. Thus, the plant can maintain its genetic integrity and prevent hybridization with nearby, closely related species.

It's a risk) strategy for a plant to make its reproduction altogether dependent on one specific animal. But orchids have evolved some of the plant kingdom's most spectacular fail-safe devices to ensure that they get pollinated.

More than a century ago, Darwin was fascinated by certain orchids that throw pollen onto visiting bees. It has only been within the past 20 years that the details of the relationship between these amazing plants and their pollinators have been filled in by scientists.

Today we know of five groups of pollenthrowing orchids, all with mechanisms based on leverage and pressure. "In effect, the plant sets up a spring trap. There's tension across some kind of barrier, and that tension can be released when a bee touches a trigger," says Calaway Dodson. "In some cases it throws forward; in some it throws backward; in some, down and in some, up."

The groups use different parts of the bee's

anatomy-such as its knee or its back-to set off the spring.

To pack pollen onto a bee, Clowesia blossoms, which are smaller than the bee, have evolved a landing platform: a hollowed-out portion at the end of the flower's lip. In one species, the hollow is shaped like a dumbbell. The bee puts one foot in each hole as it stands to collect the flower's perfume. When the insect turns to leave, its knee hits the orchid's spring mechanism, spraying out the pollen.

Another of the pollen-throwing orchids, Catasetum, is interesting for more than its unusual structure. Relying on a go-forbroke strategy, it stakes the entire production of a new generation on one bee and one group of pollen grains.

First, Catasetum produces a small number of male flowers, sometimes as few as five. The flowers' strong fragrance attracts male euglossine bees. When a bee hits Catasetum'sthrowing mechanism, it is showered with pollen grains. At this point, the flower stops producing perfume and dies.

Now it is up to the bee to carry the payload to a female flower. Finding one isn't easy because Catasetum produces fewer female flowers than it produces males. The female, however, has an even stronger perfume than the male and lives longer.

Narrowing the pollination chances to such extremes is risky, but "when you win, you win big," says Daniel Janzen, a zoologist turned plant ecologist at the University of Pennsylvania. As Darwin did earlier, Janzen points out that one fruit holds three million seeds, all sired by the father whose pollen was carried by the single bee. The mind reels at such reproductive prowess; in human terms it is equivalent to nearly half

the population of New York City having the same parents.

Why are the euglossine bees attracted to these orchids in the first place? What do they get from blossoms that do not produce any nectar? It's perfume. Dodson reports that males even "fight among themselves for the right to enter a given flower."

But there's more to it than just bees on a binge. Right now researchers are on the verge of discovering the most mysterious piece of the whole story-what the bees do with the perfume. It's known that they collect the chemical ingredients of the fragrance and store them in sponge like tissue in their hind legs. But what then? Dodson's theory is that male bees use the perfume to attract other males, forming a swarm. Such male swarms, which are known as leks when other animals form them, attract females.

Norris Williams, at the Florida State Museum, is testing a different hypothesis.

He thinks the bees chemically rearrange the fragrance and then spew it out as a means of attracting females. Either way, participation in orchid sex may well figure in the euglossine bees' own sexual strategies.

Another case in which coevolution has become highly specific involves two groups of tropical vines, Gurania and Psiguria, and their pollinators, Heliconius butterflies. To ensure that they get pollinated, the vines have evolved several ploys, including a sex change and mimicry. The butterfly, to get nourishment, has evolved its own highly sophisticated behavior.

The vines' flowers are inconspicuous and produce no odor to guide their pollinators, yet they can attract butterflies that are too far away to see the tiny blossoms. How? The plants have an unusual strategy. Unlike

Sex for One Mating with the opposite sex is not the or root, all the dandelion's offspring, only way¡ to spread yourself around if - like the walking fern's, are clones of the you're a plant. There's always asexuality parent.

There are also bisexuals: those plants or bisexuality or a number of things in that use both sexual and asexual between.

The walking fern, for instance, heads strategies to survive. The violet presents across country-slowly-by producing its larger flowers to insects for pollinaidentical new plants wherever the tips of tion, but it also has smaller flowers closer its leaves touch the ground. And though to the ground that never open. These are the .common dandelion makes use of forced to self-pollinate. The whisk fern, a seeds, it is entirely asexual. Its fluffy primitive relative of the earliest plants, seeds are whirled away by the wind. And changes its method each generation. The if the plant is damaged, each root frag- . plant asexually produces spores that, once shed, develop into tiny plants with ment can become an entire new plantas frustrated gardeners know. But both male and female'sex organs. When whether they are spawned by seed, stem male and female "mate," they produce

full-size plants, which asexually produce spores once again.

Perhaps the strangest of the bisexuals is the bamboo. Normally, it clones itself by means of underground stems, as the dandelion does. At intervals of between 20 to 120 years, depending on the species, all the plants burst into glorious flower throughout the world. The plant pours all its energy¡ into the event: there are sometimes as many as 100 pollenproducing stamens in each flower. Once the seeds and fruits are produced and dispersed, the bamboo, exhausted, dies-all over the world.

-Elizabeth Horton

The arum, by means of a scent of urine and a warm temperature, lures insects inside, then traps them. The hairs that block the passage out wilt once the insects have been coated with pollen.

Diagram by Howard S. Friedman

MALE fLOWERS

FEMALE FLOWERS

most plants, they produce blossoms all year long. Even more curious, they produce many times more male flowers than female.

Such a distinctive flowering pattern is tailormade for the Heliconius, the only known pollen-eating butterfly.

But if the butterflies feed only on the pollen-producing male flowers, how do the vines get fertilized? How does pollen get transferred to the ovary of a female blossom more than six meters away? First, a branch produces male flowers, the pollen from which collects on the butterflies' bodies while they eat. Later, the male blossoms wither, and a female blossom grows nearby on the same branch. To ensure that the butterflies land on them, the female flowers mimic the looks of males. According to botanist Herbert Baker, of the University of California, Berkeley, "It's very important that female flowers [in the tropics] look like male flowers so that they will attract the same pollinating insects."

Both plant and pollinator benefit. The vines, by maintaining a fairly constant butterfly population, have year-round pollination service. At the same time, the continuous flowering of the pollen-producing male flowers provides Heliconius with a regular food supply, which it needs to maintain its extraordinary reproductive level. Females lay eggs every day of their lives, which may be as long as eight months, four times the average butterfly life span.

As a result of the tight mutualistic relationship between the vines and the butterfly, notes Lawrence Gilbert, a biologist at the University of Texas who has studied Heliconius for over 10 years, the insect "may have the most behaviorally sophisticated adult phase among butterflies."

Experiments conducted by Gilbert and his colleagues suggest that Heliconius uses memory to locate the vine blossoms.

Although it can't spot individual flowers from a great distance, it probably stores the configuration of the forest and the patterns of light in its tiny brain. In addition, the butterfly is able to see a very broad color spectrum, which includes ultraviolet light, given off by red poppies. It may be the broadest spectrum available to any animal.

What plants don't get by rewarding animals, they obtain by deceit. Some of the most intricate scams known are perpetrated by plants.

Pseudocopulation: At least four different groups of orchids sexually arouse' male insects by mimicking females of their species. Ophrys, a group of Mediterranean orchids, smells like and even feels like a female bee or wasp. Even the flower's metallic colors look somewhat like the reflections from the wings of a resting female, and a thick fringe of long red hairs imitates the fringe on the insect's abdomen.

Incredibly, the orchid's dark, threadlike upper petals mimic the female's antennae.

In the case of the orchid Cryptosty!us, found in Australia and New Guinea, the mimicry is so effective that the male wasp seems to prefer the flower to a real female.

An Andean orchid, Trichoceros antennifera, has a stigma that appears to open and close like a female fly's genital orifice when she's ready to copulate.

In all cases of pseudocopulation, the male insect gathers and' transfers pollen as he tries to mate with the flower. Thus, there is a mating process, but not the one the insect intended.

Pre~' Deception: This is the opposite of

pseudocopulation, but it achieves the same result for the plant. The orchid Brassia, found in southern Florida, mimics the prey of spider wasps. As the wasp "stings" the flower's lip, it does the flower no harm and collects pollen on its head.

Pseudoantagonism: This form of mimicry arouses displays of territoriality in male insects. When blowing in the wind, the orchid Oncidium stipitatum resembles an aggressive swarm of bees. To protect their territories, real bees repeatedly attack the flowers, pollinating as they strike. It's an effective method of pollination because the bees seldom miss their targets.

Food Mimicry: Some female blossoms, including at least 50 species of Mexican orchids, have no nectar but produce pseudopollen to lure pollen-eating insects into bringing the real thing from a male plant.

Other plants have evolved false nectaries and nectar spots along with a honeylike odor that acts as an attractant for bees and flies For some plants and their pollinators, the reproductive cycles have become so tightly interlocked that each is wholly dependent on the other. Such symbiotic intimacy occurs between the Spanish bayonet, or yucca, which grows wild in Mexico and the southwestern United States, and its pollinator, a small moth that needs a place to deposit its eggs and provide for its young.

When a yucca flower opens in the evening, an adult female moth crawls inside.

She collects pollen and rolls it into a ball, which she carries under her chin. She continues to add pollen to the ball, and when it's larger than her head, she climbs onto the flower's female sex organ. There she alternately places a pollen ball, which fertilizes the plant, and lays an egg. She works until she's exhausted her supply of pollen, eggs, and ultimately herself. When the eggs hatch, the moth larvae begin to eat the yucca's developing seeds. But the yucca produces more seeds than the larvae can eat; there are plenty left to ensure a new generation of yucca. The result is a selfperpetuating system.

Out of the dynamics of such cost-reward systems, evolution is greatly accelerated, pushing animals and plants to new levels of sophistication. It may well be that such interactions led to the kind of intelligent animal from which human beings evolved. If so, it's no pun to say that there's a plant in our family tree.

About the Author: Mary Batten, author of The Tropical Forest, has written scripts for more than 50 nature and science films.

America's Scholar Journalist

most of his time in and out of sanitariums. The son, however, was always high spirited.

But the father living had less influence than the father dead, and his library and stern discipline molded Edmund's early life. The mother wanted her son to be an athlete, but athletics was not Edmund's cup of tea. There is a story, perhaps apocryphal, that Mrs. Wilson, concerned about her son's preternatural bookishness, bought him a baseball uniform so that he might take to the sport with other boys his age. But Wilson, duly dressed in the outfit, was found reading and not playing. He went to Hill School in Pottstown, Pennsylvania, from 1909 to 1912 and then to Princeton and so received an education that "associated him firmly with the patrician ethos."

Both in¡ school and at university he demonstrated his literary bent by editing the school magazine and serving on the editorial staff of Princeton's Nassau Lit., through which he helped build his friend F. Scott Fitzgerald, who later developed into the celebrated novelist and symbol of the Jazz Age. Wilson was fortunate in his teachers, both at the Hill School and at Princeton, where Christian Gauss of the department of modern languages,guided him in the mastery of the principal modern languages and encouraged him to expand his mastery of others so that he could read both classical and modern literature in the original. Eventually, Wilson mastered a half dozen languages, including Hebrew, and gained a smattering of Sanskrit. It was to Gauss that Wilson dedicated Axel's Castle (1931), a collection of critical assessments of major modernist writers and their works and themes in which he bemoaned the absence in the United States of serious literary criticism (as distinct from reviewing), demOnstrated the shortcomings of T.S. Eliot's conversion to the support of royalty and the Church of England in a post-Christian and republican world, and attacked the proletarian ism of John Dos Passos as outmoded at a time when the American worker was becoming better off materially, regarding himself as a member not of the proletariat but of the middle class.

Wilson was one of the earliest critics to offer a judicious view I

Eclectic and prolific, Edmund Wilson imparted new wisdom to the social ideas of the modern world.

1n924 Edmund Wilson, then 29 years old, musing on the spiritual problems in America, wrote in Vanity Fair: "I find life is extremely interesting: what I lack in certainty and faith, I make up in activity and excitement. But do not talk to me too glibly about turning to the men who will tell me what city of the spirit I should build. I have been trying to find these men and am still looking for them."

But in 1961, at the age of 66, he reflected: "As a character in one of Chekhov's plays, speaking in the late Nineties, says that he is 'a man of the Eighties,' so I find that I am a man of the Twenties. I am still expecting something exciting: drinks, animated conversation, gaiety, brilliant writing, uninhibited exchange of ideas. I have never had quite the expectation of Scott Fitzgerald's character that somewhere things were 'glimmering.' I thought life had its excitement wherever I was. But it was part of the same Zeitgeist."

For about three decades, Wilson grappled with this Zeitgeist.

Edmund Wilson-novelist, literary critic and social historian-belonged to the 1920s, although he lived into the 1970s and became famous as a contemporary commentator of the American social scene; he can be viewed as a sort of trans-Atlantic Bernard Shaw.¡There are now not many who can boast his scholarship or possess his authority. When Wilson was awarded a gold medal for his essays and criticism by the American Academy of Arts and Letters, the late critic Van Wyck Brooks correctly described him as "a vanishing type, the freeman of letters." In that capacity Wilson acted as a cultural mentor and licensed gadfly. He hailed the arrival of major new writers, such as Edna Millay and Hemingway; deflated reputations of some favored by the general public; and re-evaluated public judgments, popular myths and social and literary presumptions. He was, in effect, a rare type of guardian of the public mores of the United States for almost half a century. On his death in 1972, a writer in The New York Times concluded that if there was an American civilization, it was Wilson who helped identify it. His own background influenced his ideas. He was from a Puritan family of American-Dutch-English ancestry who were keen on following the learned professions.

Wilson was born in Red Bank, New Jersey, on May 8,1895, to Edmund and Helen Mathur (Kimball) Wilson. His father was a successful lawyer who rose to become Attorney General for New Jersey and lived in modest prosperity. But Wilson's portrait of his father in "TheAuthor at Sixty," in A Piece of My Mind: Reflections at Sixty (1956), is not one of cheer. The elder Wilson suffered from depression and hypochondria and spent

I

_

of James Joyce's Ulysses (1922), criticizing its unnecessarily obscure and repetitive elements and praising its structural intricacy and linguistic and thematic originality. In all of this he showed that he was master of a clear, conversational style of great variety and merit. His allusions were never recondite; his vocabulary was always fresh, pointed and even incisive; and he was given to the occasional bon mot and aphorism, as when he wrote, "A work of art is not a set of ideas or an exercise of technique." Yet Wilson sometimes got carried away by his own enthusiasm. He did not always manage to produce the type of prose that his criticism propounded. Yet he was always provocative, and in his writing he always sought the right word.

Wilson's philosophy of literary criticism is summed up in the' dedication of Axel's Castle, where he says that it should be ¡"a history of man's ideas and imaginings in the setting of the conditions which have shaped them" and he acknowledged that this approach had been taught him by Professor Gauss in his classes at Princeton. In all of his subsequent criticism, whether of Dickens, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Oliver Wendell Holmes or Henry Ford, Wilson applied the very same critical yardsticksthe investigation of crucial early influences on later ideologies and their political, social or literary expressions. He was thus, in many ways, far ahead of most of his contemporary critics in combining Freudian, social and biographical approaches to understanding cultural expression.

E

dmund Wilson began his career as a journalist on the staff of the old New York Evening Sun. But with the entry of the United States into World War I, he joined the army and served in France. Upon his discharge he joined the staff of Vanity Fair and climbed its editorial hierarchy until, in 1920, he became its managing editor, thus influencing the policy of the magazine that was devoted to "a record of current achievements in all the arts and a mirror of the progress and promise of American life." Even at this early stage he emphasized the "Americanness" of his own attitudes, becoming well known for his anti-British prejudice. Wilson was essentially a progressive, liberal, republican thinker, and the notion of a conservative, aris,tocratic and royalist nation he found anachronistic; hence his antipathy to T.S. Eliot, the expatriate American anglophile.

About this period he lived in Greenwich Village in New York, famous in arts and letters, very close to the critic Lionel Trilling of Columbia University. (Years later, Wilson, Trilling and F.R. Leavis were to be dubbed the "three honest critics. :') Greenwich Village was the meeting place of literary giants who argued and discussed their works. And Maxwell Bodenheim described Wilson as "a fatuous policeman, menacingly swinging his club." While swinging the club, the young Wilson discovered Ernest Hemingway, who was then an obscure newspaperman, and he promoted his work.

In 1925 there was another change in Wilson's life. He became literary editor of The New Republic. In this capacity he began to think of politics. This suited his genius, for like Shaw, he considered life his subject.

Wilson's fame as a writer spread. He published plays and a novel, I Thought of Daisy (1929), a penetrating analysis of the postwar intellectual as seen in Greenwich Village. The New Republic also carried the essays that were to become part of Axel's Castle: A Study in the Imaginative Literature of 18701930, now deemed one of the seminal works of criticism of the century. It contained analyses of the works of Yeats, Valery,

Joyce, Proust and Gertrude Stein, among others, discussed in terms of the French Symbolist movement and Naturalism. His definitions are often quoted: "Romanticism was a revolt of the individual"; "The Romantic is nearly always a rebel"; "Symbolism may be defined as an attem.pt by carefully studied meansa complicated association of ideas represented by a medley of metaphors-to communicate unique personal feelings."

The 1920s were an exciting period in the history of American letters. It was the age that saw the finest outpouring of American literature since the 1850s. Wilson was part of this intellectual stream. World War I, the Great Depression and other events that stirred the soul of America saw the most intense form of literature in 70 years. Wilson contributed to its imaginative life as friend and critical scold of its major writers.

Yet in many ways Wilson was as haughty as T.S. Eliot (whom he did not admire as an individual, though he saw the merits in much of his criticisms). In his essay, "A Weekend at Ellerslie," which recounts a visit to F. Scott Fitzgerald's home in Delaware, Wilson provides us with an insight into his personality when he writes: "There are few things I enjoy so much as talking to people about books which I have read but they haven't, and making them wish that they had-preferably a book that is hard to get or in a language that they do not know."

This clearly suggests that he himself was a perfect example of a Vanity Fair or a New Yorker reader (for which he later wrote); that he enjoyed the one-upmanship of the cocktail party set; and that he was at heart a somewhat proud, if a teasing sort of pedagogue. To have been different in the Fitzgerald set would have been atypical, almost.

During the 1930s, Wilson developed as a critic of both literature and the larger society. But then his thinking took a different turn. Once a left-leaning critic, he became disillusioned with socialism and socialist-realist writing and returned to a somewhat traditional orthodoxy, modified by his own incessant search for truth, beauty and right.

The American Jitters: A Year of the Slump (1932) was a very perspicacious investigation of the Depression and the American public reaction to this sudden change in the philosophy that bigger and better was always to be expected. And in his essays "Frank Keeney's Coal Diggers" and "Detroit Motors," Wilson showed hoth his sympathies for the working class and his antagonisms to unrestrained capitalist exploitation of labor in tones that were soon to become more widely used by John Steinbeck in The Grapes of Wrath and In Dubious Battle.

In 1935 Wilson was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship to enable him to visit the Soviet Union. He had already started work on the book that was to become To The Finland Station (1940), a study of the Russian Revolution that suggests, by its title, that only the origins would be examined and that the narrative would conclude as Lenin stepped off the train that took him to St. Petersburg. The visit did for Wilson what Claude McKay's 1922-23 visit had done for him-disillusioned him about the course of the revolution, about socialist realism and about Russian communism. As a result, when To The Finland Station was completed, Wilson had modified his political thinking considerably and was able to write, with the advantage of considerable travel in Europe, that America was "the most advanced country in the world." However, he never became a jingoist. He was ever the critical, vigilant, independent thinker.

The best of Wilson's writings in this decade were collected and edited by Leon Edel as The Thirties (1980).

The Forties: From Notes and Diaries of the Period (1983) is a valuable document, although half the size of Thf' Thirties. Wilson

was a relentless diarist until 1935. Hence The Forties, like its predecessors, contains substantial information-much more than mere laundry bills. Wilson's mind was like a palimpsest. It could absorb everything that touched human life-historical research, fiction or journalism. Although he operated within the framework of journalism, he considered "literature as the most significant record of men's struggles which we possess." He drew on Freudian theories but was never limited to one approach; withhim reality and imagination together played their part for him to arrive at his judgments.

In 1945 The New Yorker sent him to Europe to survey the consequences of World War II. He went to London, Rome, Naples, Milan and Athens, and his notes became the celebrated book, Europe Without Baedeker (1947). Later, he went to Mexico and Haiti, and the result was a book about Haitian manners and morals. It is in his observations on Haiti that Wilson went embarrassingly amiss: He felt that there would be positive developments in that island country and he did not foresee the dictatorial regime of "Papa Doc" with the attendant terror, unemployment, exploitation and abject misery. Yet, in his defense, we must not pretend that others were more clairvoyant. In fact, Wilson was acutely aware of his shortcomings as a scholar and in "A Modest Self-Tribute," an essay which appeared in The Bit Between my Teeth (1965), he regretted that he had not mastered Spanish and Portuguese, and that he was almost totally ignorant of Latin American literature, politics and culture. He was..•there¡fore, candid in his recognition of some of his shortcomings, though he held to his view that Steinbeck was a writer on the borderland of good literature.

It was during the 1940s too that he called for an even more rigorous sorting out of the ducks and geese of modern literature.

For, he said, with the shortage of paper and other essentials, "we shalldo well to discourage the squandering of this paper that might be put to better use."

lt

thoughWilson kept writing almost to the end of his long and active life, few other of his works are as intriguing as The Wound and the Bow (1941) and Memoirs of Hecate County (1946). The Wound and the Bow, which takes its title from the classical myth of Philoctetes, develops the thesis that there is an inseparable association, a causative relationship, between neurosis and artistic or intellectual power, or, as he phrased it, "superior strength is inseparable from disability."

Accordingly, he showed inhis studies of seven writers, as varied as Dickens and Kipling, that traumatic experiences, such as real or imagined abandonment, are to be understood as the real source of the writers' fictional creativity and power. As Lewis M. Dabney has written: "Dickens' memory of fear and helplessness became a powerful instrument to expose the corruption of Victorian England, while Kipling's talent was partly thwarted, Wilson believes, by the nature of man's a,djustment to authority. Seeing a comparable psychic strain in the work of a contemporary, Hemingway, he shows how it could yield moral insight when artistically controlled."

But Hemingway's suicide greatly shocked Wilson, who had thought that the author of The Old Man and the Sea had great things yet to write. And though some of the content of The Wound and the Bow is certainly dated by recent research and studies, especially in psychological analysis and motivation, it is, as - Dabney suggests, "necessary reading for anyone concerned with the origins of imaginative literature in personality and social history. " Memoirs of Hecate County, however, is a decidedly different

work. It contains "The Man Who Shot Snapping Turtles," a frequently anthologized satire on the abandonment of high ideals and the consequences of American capitalism, and a number of essays that purport to give an account of the author's sex life both within and outside marriage and which, because it is so explicit in discussing copulation and orgasm, caused the book to be banned in New York. Anthony Burgess noted his reaction by describing the book as "childish, vulgar," and many readers agreed with his assessment. But the sections that deal with Wilson's sex life (including his pursuit of call girls and the like) somehow obscured those parts that have some merit in the serious literary matters that they raise: for instance; the pervasive influence of Calvanism in American literature and the role of social Darwinism in contemporary society. But the general tone of Memoirs is suggestted by the name of the county. Life for Wilson had become a series of disappointments, disillusionments, whether in literature, personal relationships or politics. Especially in life in exurbia, where, if we are to accept his premises, love has degenerated into mechanistic sex, and ideals have totally disappeared.

Wilson's later works, which covered the Vietnam war, the income tax and a veritable panorama of contemporary affairs, were 'all received with respect if not awe, for his intellect was almost always original and stimulating to others-if only to arouse disagreement rather than concurrence.

He was essentially an impressionist critic, Robert Penn Warren observed, yet few would deny that he belongs to the great triumvirate, the "three honest thinkers" of his time. If he was sometimes clearly in error (as in overpraising Edna St. Vincent Millay or in unqervaluing John Steinbeck) he was as often clearly correct in his identification of major contributors to the advancement of the art of writing, such as Joyce and Yeats, Pushkin and Fitzgerald. And always he could sum up succinctly, as when he said ofT.S. Eliot, "There is a scoundrel and actor in Eliot. It was the young scoundrel who wrote the good poetty and it is now the old scoundrel who is putting on the public performance." Few others in his time were so pointed-and so correct. And this element of his styly can be accounted for. As he himself said, his "principal heroes among journalists in English have been De Quincey, Poe and Shaw," who taught him to "put solid matter into notices of ephemeral happenings."

The year 1983 seems to have witnessed a Wilson revival with the publication of The Forties and The Portable Edmund Wilson.

His judgments on men of letters are still respected. When one reads him, one is aware of the sense of the way in which great literature alters one's consciousness. His learning and catholicity of interest went far beyond the reach of any ordinary journalist.

One heartily endorses Malcolm Muggeridge's opinion that Wilson possessed the most acute mind of any critic on either side of the Atlantic. The Forties shows Wilson as a man with a firm reputation and a permanent niche in letters. To be in Edmund Wilson's company is to profit from one of the noblest men of modern sensibilities.

I was not lucky enough to be swept into Wilson's audience, although in 1966 I was living very close to his house in Greenwich Village. But today Axel's Castle is my Bible. It comes out of my bookshelf frequently. One may disagree with Wilson's political phobias, but one is always attracted to a marvelous mind playing over a wide range of vital cultural chords. Edmund Wilson made the world of modern literary criticism more vibrant. 0 About the Author: HH Anniah Gowda is head of the Department of English and director of the Centre for Commonwealth Literature and Research at the University of Mysore.

Stella's Stellar Quality "Art is a form of play, after all," says FrankStella, one of the most successful players. His relaxed approach to high art reveals his originality.

No contemporary artist has more rigorously explored the possibilities of abstraction than Frank Stella. In 25 years he has produced 20 series of paintings, some of which consist of more than 200 single works-many on a gigantic physical scale.

Although he organizes his paintings around specific, formal ideas, Stella has never lost the freedom to change and experiment radically within the terms he has set for himself. Nor has he lost, at 50, his ability to incite the public and the critics. Raised in Malden, near Boston, educated at Andover and Princeton, Stella lives in Manhattan with his wife (a pediatrician) and their young son. Last year he commuted to Harvard to deliver the Charles Eliot Norton Lectures to capacity crowds at Sanders Theatre, and to supervise the mounting of an exhibit of his paintings at the Fogg Museum. During one of his sojourns in Eliot House, Stella talked about "working space"-the subject of his lectures-and other matters both personal and painterly with Caroline Jones, the Fogg's assistant director for curatorial affairs.

You're the Norton lecturer, your second retrospective is coming up at the Museum of Modern Art, your output is staggering. It's hard to know where to start. What about your early life? Your parents?

We did a lot of house-painting together.

He had painted houses while he was in college to pay his way through medical school. He taught me how to scrape floors, rub wood. I learned all about stains and varnishes, and painting and paintbrushes.

That's the way Georges Braque started out-with his father, who was a housepainter.

My father was a gynecologist. He died a few years ago. I have a sister five years younger, and a brother so young I don't know what he looks like. He's 15 years younger than I am and he digs clams.

Neither of them are interested in the arts.

Did your family reinforce your interest in art, or did that come later?

In the early years I wasn't that interested, just faintly acquainted.

I got interested at Andover. It was kind of exciting that you could take art for credit-I liked that.

You played a lot of sports at school, didn't you?

I played a little lacrosse, but wrestling was my big sport. Now I play tennis and squash, but I've hurt my back. I like sports for a lot of obvious reasons, but also Ilike to hit the ball so I don't have to hit people.

What do they have to do with anything?

People are interested.

Well, my mother painted a bit. She painted Santa Claus on the window in oil paint.

Did you paint with her?

I don't remember. I remember in third grade the teacher asked for somebody to volunteer to copy something, and I just put up my hand because it was so boring in class. Then I realized I didn't know how to do it. Later I went to the museums-mostly by myself, or with my friends. We'd go to see the Red Sox, and I'd make them stop at the Museum of Fine Arts.

What was Princeton like for you in the Fifties?

A geology field trip to Bethlehem Steel was the highlight of my four years there. I was interested in the outside world. The worst slums seemed like the greatest lJlaces on earth.

Of course it's not true, but everything looked interesting compared with Andover and Princeton.

think. Painting is always better the more it can account for, the more it's like the totality of what we know.

Have you had any contact with the students at Carpenter Center since you came to Harvard?

Well, I participated in a print class, and they asked me once to step in and criticize a student's sculpture. That took five minutes.

I find the setup here a little difficult because they're so serious about it. They all go to class diligently, but they never do anything.

What they do is fine and'well-meaning, but I think it's a bit wrong-headed, in a sensenobody seems to be having a very good time. And art is a form of play, after all-although it's pretty embarrassing to admit that you've never worked a day in your life when you're 50 years old!

So Harvard's program seems too preprofessional?

It's set up as a pre-architecture school, as far as I can see. The painting is weak because of its position in the curriculum; it's not the instructors' fault. They're teaching a lot of things to prepare you for a more serious study of the problem of making art, for another level of activity that actually doesn't exist. It's all the same activity. You just do it, right from the start. I like a more amateur situation, I suppo,se.

At Princeton, then, art was extracurricular?

Yes. I liked Princeton because I could do what I wanted and they took care of me, but I was overwhelmingly embarrassed by it. I knew I was too old for that-I was anxious to get out and be independent.

And when you got out, what happened?

How do you feel about a liberal arts education, as opposed to art school?

Liberal arts is better. Going to art school doesn't teach you an awful lot about anything. The better you can think, the more confident you are about how you can think, the better off you are, no matter what you do. Art school doesn't teach you how to

I was planning to go into the army-this was after Korea, but there was still a draft-so I went to New York just for the fun of it, to paint, to kill 90 days before I Sat Bhai (1978), of mixed media on etched magnesium and honeycomb aluminum, one of Stella's "Indian Birds." extends out one meter.

was supposed to be inducted. But then, I didn't get into the army because of an early injury to my hand, so I beat it back to New York before my parents could catch me and ask me what I was going to do. I was having a good time and didn't see any reason to worry about a career.

And you were meeting lots of artists, and it began to seem possible to be one?

Yeah, and with odd jobs I could get by. I mean, I wouldn't ever have a house in Scarsdale, but I met plenty of girls, and there were lots of parties to go to.

Was your painting a fairly activity?

It was pretty lonely.

solitary

And now you work with lots of people, fabricating large metal pieces. What's your daily routine like?

My life is pretty steady, and it's lived in terms of the physical spaces I spend all my time in. There's my house, mY,studio, Ken's shop [Ken Tyler, the master printer], and the factory at Bridgeport. People have an idea of what the studio environment is like, but not the factory environmeQt-a real American industrial factory. It's like a huge junkyard; it's hard to keep your hands off the things that go flying by you all the time.

There's a tremendous physical and material turnover. It's a much more social activity than working in the studio. It may be for the worst, but what with everybody working on the casting and the reproductive techniques, it becomes a kind of dictatorial proletarianism. I go to the factory and tell everybody what to do.

The Norton Lectures are an enormous departure from all this. What made you accept Harvard's offer?

It came at a lucky time. I' ' been working flat out on the "Circuit" and "Diamond Mine" series for close to three and a half years-longer and harder than at any other time in my life, and I was pretty sick of painting. I had just accepted an invitation from the American Academy in Rome, and we were making plans to go there when I got the invitation from Harvard, I took it as a sign from God! Had you decided on a topic before you left for Italy?

I knew I wanted to build somehow on the Picasso talk I had given at the College Art Association in 1981. Once I got to Rome, it was seeing the paintings. I had some ideas about space in general, and I

wanted to work them through and see if they held up. Also, there's a slightly annoying critical tendency now, which holds that contemporary art has to compare with the art of the past, and I wanted to think about that. It's always put in terms of quality. I don't think it ever crossed [Jackson] Pollock's mind to worry about the quality of his painting compared to Titian's.

It seemed like a ridiculous idea.

You've lectured about art history-Italian painting in the 17th century to early Modernism. But a lot of people want to ask, "What is he saying about his own work? What is he saying about painting in general?"

Yes, but painting in general is what it's all about, and art history is what painting in general is about. Instead of looking for what I'm saying about myself, I think people ought to listen to what I'm saying about what it's like to look at these paintings.

Are you trying to "correct" art history?

No. The art history I've read has been sensational: Bernard Berenson, Walter Friedlaender; these guys are smart. There's a current criticism of art history on some sort of philosophical, intellectual level that I can't understand-about what it "fails to do," how it fails to keep up with structuralism or literary criticism. This is really a stupid position, in my opinion. It doesn't prove anything. Art history is a basic attempt to sort things out. I don't know what else people want out of it. I mean, I look for information.

Yet much of what you're doing seems to me more ambitious. You're taking a painter like Caravaggio and trying to draw lessons from him for painting now.

Exactly, that's my business-not the business of the art historians. Theirs is to find out about Caravaggio. I'm certainly not going to say anything better than Friedlaender has.

So what you're doing is not art history?

No, but you know what? The truth is, I had to eat humble pie. I could shoot off as much as I want about what I think Caravaggio has to say for painting today, but I can't tell you until I really know what Caravaggio said in his own time. I need what art history has to tell me. Given what it can tell me, given what I can see by using my own experience as a painter, I'm supposed to come up with something. That's my job.

And what have you come up with? Your lectures began with Caravaggio and his

search for "a kind of space which would belong only to painting." Can you explain how you connect that depicted space with the space that you deal with in your own abstract work?

Yes. Caravaggio was the first to suggest the possibility that painting can "move out"; there's a sense of "projectiveness" -or projection. What he does, really, is to make you conscious that the space around the figures is live. It seems to me that painting has capitalized on that for 300. years. In addition to what painting already had-a sense of both flatness and conventional recession-Caravaggio gave it a sense of moving forward. He created more space, though it was always based on the idea of illusion. As things changed at the turn of this century, the space available to painting began to get lost, because it seemed too bound to illusion. The more literal the medium of painting became, in early abstraction, the more pictorial space was limited.

One solution to this problem began to emerge after 1945, in America. With what's called "close-up" painting, space in painting changed-absolutely, maybe forever. In this sense, 1945 is really the beginning of the 20th century. Everything that happened previously-although much of it is advanced, and great-is an extension of the 19th century.

Where would you locate the radical diF ference between the two centuries?

In what's called "scale." It's a simple thing: Caravaggio can be 20 feet long [more than six meters], but the scale is so different in relation to the paint, and to the gesture of application than in, say, a six-by-ten-foot Pollock, which has immensity of scale. The difference lies in the location of the painter in relation to the work. What changes is not the "bigness" of the surface, but the fact that the artist pushes himself right into it.

Now there's no stepping back, and literalism becomes a real issue.

By literalism, do you mean the wayan abstract picture functions as an object rather than a depiction?

Yes, because what you do is make the paint your surface; you're on top of it.

That's what I was trying to get at recently when I was telling the graduate students how physical painting had become, and visual only after the fact. As an artist, your hand's a half-second ahead of your eye all the time. If you have to stop and look when your hand is moving, then you're not an artist.

But wouldn't you make that point about any great painter-Caravaggio, Rembrandt, Rubens?

Yes, but on the level of touch and technique-on the ability of the hand to animate an illusion. There was no question that Caravaggio created the surface, in the sense of making it physically real. But now the artist has to physically occupy the space, he has to take it over. The ideal artist today manipulates and attacks his pigment. Picasso was good at this: you could take the canvas away, and the paint would hold itself together.

In other words, the illusion in a traditional picture is something that appears to go back into it, whereas now a painting can reach outAoward the spectator?

Yes. In 1600, the good artists caught on in terms of illusionism. The reason why Realism lasted as well as it did for 300 years

As

anartist,yonr

hand is a half-second ahead of your eye all the time.

If you have to stop and look, you're no artist." was that painting took off from a recessional illusion and got some of it out in front, and created a whole spherical effect.

Let's talk about your own work. In the "Exotic Bird" series, for example, what you seem to be after is a surface so densely painted and articulated, with the pigment sliding from one piece to another connecting the front with the back, that the whole painting offers an illusion that appears to reside in front of the physical object.

I hope something like that happens. It's an illusion and an allusion. What an artist wants now is an associative illusion. You make the thing real, and then hope it has some aura beyond its literal one, through the optics of the paint and the way light hits it from different places.

Do you imagine an audience when you work?

I used to have a pretty good idea of my audience, specifically the New York art scene. But a strange thing happened toward the end of the Seventies. People started to like my paintings who didn't know who I was, in the sense that they didn't know any

Here in Cambridge, people hadn't seen anything since the Black Paintings and had no idea what you were doing. They said, "Frank Stella? It can't be the same guy."

Yeah, I found that a little eerie.

It leads to the question of style. Would you say that you have one?

In a way. There's an undercurrent, a structural norm to all of my things.

But the ordinary person who walks into your show off the street doesn't know how to evaluate it, doesn't know if it's "good" or "bad."

Right, and he never will, and neither do the critics, although they make slightly more educated guesses. And neither did the people around Caravaggio.

They didn't like the dirty feet on the peasants. But the nobility loved his pictures and bought them.

Yes, he had the best patronage of any painter. Agents were continually saying, "Look, I don't like this painting, but everybody says it's great. How much do you want for it?" Rubens and other artists were always recommending him, too.'

Still, the peasant could look at a Caravaggio and see that the feet were dirty and recognize other things-like a horse. But someone looking at your painting ... ... looks at it in the same way! Everybody has a fantasy that Caravaggio's painted horse looked like a horse to those peasants, but the peasants knew perfectly well that no horse was going to look like that. What does the average guy who goes to the Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome know about oil painting?

Critics think that entation, it left its But we know museum attendance

when painting left repreaudience. that's not true! Has declined?

I'm not saying that I agree with the critics.

They would also say that the success of your exhibition at the Fogg was a question of Frank Stella> Superstar. They'd say that people came to the show because the work's expensive, because somebody's buying it, and because you're famous and they want to know what's going on.

And that's why they went to see Caravaggio. Because it was a scandal, and very expensive. The guy-in-the-street probably said to his little boy at Santa Maria del

Popolo, "Look at that. A horse's ass, and they paid 300 scudi for it." That's all Carracci and the other painters worried about, too-how much somebody paid for somebody else's paintings.

Things have accelerated even more lately.

People who go to SoHo to look at art gobble it up much faster than ever before. There's no reaction time.

Yes, but it was that way, too, when I came on the scene in the beginning of the Sixties. Now there's as much activity, but not as many different styles. I remember when they told me it was all over, in 1967. I had just painted the "Protractor" seriesthe smallest dimension was 10 feet in any one direction. They said to me, "We'll never be able to sell these."

It was pretty arrogant of you to make a picture that was 10 by 55 feet, on speculation.

I sold them cheap. One thing that's never bothered me is whether I'd get too little for a painting. The idea of getting anything for a painting always seemed like a lot to me. If somebody else makes more money, I'm not worried-I'm worried about my next painting.

Which of your recent paintings do you like best?

Eastern Rand is a pretty high moment, I think.

There's a lot of wit to it. I see the rectangular "frame" in the front as a kind of spoof on the Renaissance conception of a '''window'' onto a depicted world.

Right, but that would be pushing it. It's a play on the framing edge, but it's not supposed to be so heavy-handed. It's supposed to be a light inflection.'

The painted part at the bottom reads very much like an amusing afterthought- "Here's the painting!" Did it come late into the piece?

Yes. I think this piece creates a problem, though, because it sets a fairly high level of quality. The whole thing works, with the junk and everything. Some parts are corny-they aren't great ideas, but they just feel right. And there's something else about the piece I like: it's boxy, but not in the ordinary way. It has its own space and it's very close to being architectural, yet it still has the character of a painting, and of being made.

The "made-ness" of the "Exotic Birds" is quite extraordinary, too. These were the first (Text continued on page 26)

Eastern Rand (1982), one of Stella's "Diamond Mine" series, was freely made up from leftovers of earlier works.

Valletta and Zejtun (1983) from Stella's "Malta" series (right). Both are honeycomb aluminum with etched magnesium surfaces, inked and painted.

Bechhofen II (1972) and Targowick a III (1973) from the "Polish

Village" series (below) are paint and collage on wood arid cardboard.

Hiraqla II (1970) is 10 by 20 feet

(right). One of the "Protractor" pictures, it is painted in fluorescent polymer and polymer on canvas.

pieces of yours to have that dramatic scribbling on top of the paint. And the glitter! It created quite a stir.

Now it seems so tame. At the time, the ground glass and the glitter seemed like the basic Cubist sand, a traditional element. I used it in an unself.conscious way. Now that I look at it, there's hardly any glitter at all. If I did it again, I'd put tons of glitter on it and then I'd paint it. ... When you begin, you're always, very timid.

Was there something in particular you were trying to get with the glitter?

Everybody said it was disco, but I was thinking about India. There they have a sense of texture and color that's very "glitteresque."

The most recent "Malta" pieces, Valletta and Zejtun, are so much more restrainedeven classical in their playfulness. What were you trying to do there?

I went to Malta to see The Beheading of St. John the Baptist, by Caravaggio. I wanted to see a 20-foot painting. I'd done the maquettes for these pieces, and the names just seemed right. There's supposed to be a kind of Mozarabic echo in the "Malta" pieces, together with a' sailing motif, and a harbor motif. There's the billowing in the sails, and a sense of boats and wharves. There's also something about the fortifications on Malta, the effort that went into setting the stones. Malta, for a while, had a very strong presence. It radiated a lot for a crummy little island. There was a bit of uranium, or something, plus the power of the fortifications. They were like the pyramids- they gave off rays.

Did working from maquettes give these works a kind of formal sequence?

Yes, but the ones without the maquettes, the "South African Mine" series and some of the "Playskool" works, seem better. I don't know if it's a question of being better the first time around, or just the innocence of the idea. It's very hard to recapture the freshness of the first idea.

Do you still consider these works paintings?

They are, in fact.

Mightn't the "Playskool" series be something else?

What, reliefs? Whether they're painted reliefs or relief paintings, it doesn't seem to me to make much difference. They live or die on the basis of their pictorial ability, not on their sculptural ability. The "Malta"

pieces and the "South African Mines" don't feel like sculpture to me, either. I guess they do have an object quality, but they also have an elevated quality, a sense of lift. They're trying to beat the game; they want to get off the ground. They want to do everything that sculpture doesn't want to do. Sculpture wants to make a virtue of its mass; these are otherworldly, as painting is wont to be.

of painting today, and the problem of where it can go. Can you look at other artists' work and say, "It's not my solution, but I can see that it's valid"? , Yes. I think that everything has something to it in that sense. I know I'm not supposed to do exactly what other people do. I have to do it my way. But I'd like to see just a little more push. Maybe this is a conceit on my part, but I know I'm working flat out, to the limits of my abilities. 1 don't feel that about other painters, or I don't feel it enough. There's so much pulling back in their effort to be correct.

Do you find ideas for new pieces within the work you're currently doing?

Well, in the last 10 years I've been working more continuously from one series to another. But in the past, it was harder.

After the "Eccentric Polygons," for what reason I don't know, I couldn't go on with the ideas they presented. I went directly on

What is your work meant to accomplish?

1think the impulse is clear. My paintings are meant to be accessible. A lot of people say, "It's hostile, it's coming out into my environment." But actually, it's creating an environment that is accessible, that is available. "Projectiveness" is not alway~ meant to hurt the spectator, but to reach out and join him.

EverYbOdY said it was disco, but I was thinking about India."

Has giving the Norton Lectures changed the way you think aboUt your work?

Only in one: respect. I guess it was always obvious to everybody but me: that I'm an American painter who's also an Italian Catholic. My work has a Mediterranean quality. There's a weight, a kind of density, which is different from the sensibility of Mondrian or Kandinsky.

to the "Protractor" pictures, and really turned myself around. But then, when I was done with them, I was able to go back to the ideas I'd had through the "Polygons" and started all over again.

With the "Prlish Village" series?

Right. I'd read a book about Polish synagogues, put out by the Polish Government as a memorial to the architecture destroyed by the Nazis. I was in the hospital recovering from knee surgery, and I did a set of drawings that were partly "Protractor" interlace ideas, combined with my new thoughts about the "Eccentric Polygons."

The forms began to look Constructivist, and I began to think about the Constructivists in Russia, and about Germany and Poland.

But where much of the Constructivists' work was mechanistic and austere, the "Polish Village" pieces are lushly textured and colored. You must be aware of the beauty that many people find in your work.

I can't answer that-whether artists want their work to be beautiful or not. If he knows what he's doing, the artist knows that his responsibility is to make art. That's a hard thing to do, so you do the best you can.

When it comes out beautiful besides, that's a plus, I suppose.

You've expressed concern that other artists aren't contributing much to the enterprise of painting as a whole, that they aren't enriching it. You're worried about the nature

o

A kind of heat, and sensuality?

Right, and also a blend of that with abstraction-which Matisse and Picasso never wanted to do. They hated abstract painting, maybe because they sensed that it was essentially a Northern, barbaric tradition. But I sort of combine the barbarian instinct for abstraction with the Mediterranean sensibility toward paint. My work is absolutely and totally abstract, as far as 1 can see. There's no hint of figuration, except that the entire thing can be a figuration. My paintings start out as a kind of image or a kind of organization of forms. They are always less, in the end, than 1 imagine them to be. But my vision of what they could be, and should be, is not that literal. I see them in terms of the whole enterprise of painting, which is larger than myself, and I see them as flowing out of it. And if I'm good, 1 pull it together and it takes its place with other painting, as part of a much greater whole.

0 About the Author: Caroline Jones is assistant directorforcuratorial affairs at the Fogg Museum of Harvard University, Cambridge, Massachusetts.

ONTHE LIGHTER SIDE

"1 didn't say you made a perfect fool of yourself, Martin .... Nobody's perfect."

Reprinted with permission from The Saturday Evening Post Society, a division of BFL and MS, Inc. © 1984

Reprinted

with

permission

from

The

Saturday

a division of BFL and MS, Inc.

Evening

©

1984

Post Society,

On a steamy morning in early August last year, surrounded by fields of elephant-eye-high Iowa corn, 947 elephantine Winnebagos were planted in neat rows. Forty American state flags were posted along the blacktop walkway that ran through the center of the motor home crop. Signs announced the delegations: the Winnie Gators (Florida), the Ginnie Winnies (Roanoke, Virginia), the Ark-A-Bagos (Arkansas), the Astrobagos (Houston), the Gone with the Winnies (northern Georgia), the Winnehahas (Minnesota). The 15th annual Grand National Rally of the Winnebago International Travelers had once again con-

vened in the industry's hometown, Forest City, Iowa (population 4,300).

Forest City is the home of Winnebago Industries, Inc., which mass produces the middle-of-the-line vehicle that has almost come to be synonymous for motor home.

The Winnebago International Travelers (WIT) is a club of nearly 9,000 owners and their families that plans caravan trips and rallies throughout North America.

"We're just a fun bunch," said executive director Bill Taylor. "Most of us just want to see what's on the other side of the mountain. We're a floating community that meets in different parts of the country. This national rally is our annual family reunion."

The theme for last year's rally was

Above: Interior of the new Winnebago Elandan. The 9.Smeter-long motor home sleeps six, has a four-burner cooking range, a double-door fridge, oak cabinets and a large bath.

Left: The Elandan exterior.

"Happy Days"-both a nod to the 1950s and a celebration of Winnebago's own economic recovery. The summer of 1979 could have been the death's knell for the recreational vehicle industry. As gas lines stretched across the country, the guzzling behemoths, which got only three kilometers per liter, were perceived as unAmerican. That July, Winnebago founder John K. Hanson, furniture dealer, made his famous declaration. Addressing his demoralized staff, he prophesied, "You can't take sex, booze or weekends away from the American people!" He turned out to be right-at least about the weekends. Last year roughly 14,000 Americans paid between $30,000 and $50,000 for the new nine-kilometer-perliter Winnebagos.

The WITers hail from every crossroad and interstate on the vast map of the American middle class. They include those who can easily afford a new toy and those who mortgaged or even sold their homes for one; retired couples, the newly widowed and young families; present and former military personnel, oil tycoons, construction workers, doctors, attorneys, artists, policemen, school principals.

They all have eschewed well-tended lawns for the lure of the road.

Motor home travel appears to be middle-of-the-road the whole way. A typical Winnebago comes with airconditioning, a refrigerator, stove, shower and toilet, dinette set and full-sized sleeping quarters. Owners usually further stock all the amenities that most families can't seem to leave home without: microwave oven, vacuum cleaner and TV. "Tenting is just too earthy," remarked a Wisconsin matron. Her friend, a silverhaired widow from Missouri chimed in, "but hotels are for the snobbish, elite types-the ones who need schedules and somebody to wash their dishes. They don't look like they're having as much, fun as we are."

These self-described hobos on wheels consider themselves the true free spirits of the American highways. Because a motor home can run on its own power generator, an owner can pull off the road anywhere and spend the night. During one of the many seminars offered throughout rally week, Bill Taylor's wife, Della, testified, "We've stayed in parking lots of stores, hospitals, police stations,

29

and churches-but not on Sundays, out of respect."

As he puttered with the refrigerator door, Floyd Wall, a service manager from Spartanburg, South Carolina, said, "On Friday afternoons I get into the motor home, just point it in some direction, put on the tape of Merle [Haggard] singing 'On the Road Again,' and I'm a happy man. I just like to be moving-it gets in your blood. I got a swimming pool at home but I like traveling better. I haven't spent two weekends at home this year."

When Floyd and Frieda Wall designed their four-bedroom brick colonial house six years ago, their first priority was a basement large enough to park the motor home: 9.75 meters long, 4 meters high.

"It's my doghouse," said Wall. "When she gets mad at me, that's where I go."

The Walls are now facing a crisis of the upwardly mobile: they want to trade in their current model for a 10-meter one, but the basement isn't big enough.

The Walls consider the nation their backyard. They don't think there's any place the motor home won't go-even Manhattan. A few summers ago they and another couple took their families to visit the Statue of Liberty. "It was pretty hectic," said Floyd Wall. "We parked the Winnebagos at Battery Park, and between the two of them we took up six spaces. While the wives and kids got to take the ferry, my buddy and I had to spend the afternoon feeding six parking meters." Next summer, maybe Alaska.

As a group of people, WITers tend to be extraordinarily talkative. There are always photos of grandchildren to be shown off, and another traveler's tale that needs recounting. Talking was how these 3,000 people pretty much spent four sultry days in an Iowa cornfield.

Occasionally they took breaks to attend lectures in the seminar tent on motorhome maintenance or classes in the ladies' tent on needle-punch and dollmaking. In the late afternoons they planned coffee-and-doughnut brigades for the next morning, precocktail hour parties, cocktail parties and supper parties.

In the evenings the entertainment in the little wooden amphitheater would go on for as long as the Iowa state bird, the mosquito, would permit. State delegations put on their own skits, poking fun at themselves, telling Winnebago jokes. By 10:30 p.m., darkness and silence had blanketed the acres of slumbering Winnebagos. With one exception.

In the middle of the next cornfield, a

solitary street light glowed defiantly, a rebel flag tied to its pole. Behind it stood a phone booth and a parking meter, half-a-dozen Winnebagos, a well-stocked bar, about 35 wide-awake people and a tepee almost filled with empty beer cans.

The Winnebago Renegades were conducting their annual club business.

"We don't belong to a state delegation-we're from all over. Just say we're from the state of confusion," said Daryl Barklow, vice-president of East Dubuque Savings, East Dubuque, Illinois. "We're all equal, there's no prima donnas here." The other Renegades, who had driven in from Minnesota, Wisconsin and Florida, included an airline pilot, an accountant, several telephone company executives and the owner of a sanitation and excavation business.

"I lead two Iives-a straight life during the week and then camping every weekend, to get away from the phones and the baloney," said Barklow. "These motor homes are an unrealism, I knowjust big, nonearning assets."

The Renegades began rendezvousing in Forest City about 12 years ago, and have been adding new props-last August, a Christmas tree-and interviewing applicants ever since. "The supreme test is you have to be able to stay up 'til 4 a.m. four nights in a row," said Chuck Perlick, an AT&T executive, who hastened to explain that the phone booth had been commandeered from an independent company.

Like the other Renegades, he takes off in the Winnebago every weekend from April through November. His four boys have traveled in 35 states with him, and the family has run through three motor homes since 1970. A wiry, tanned man, he stood to one side, as the Renegades drew inquisitive local chapter visitors out of the dark cornfields like a magnet. At about 2 a.m., the Renegade wives proposed a horseshoe game.

"This," said Chuck Perlick, grinning broadly, "is motorhomin'."

"You been Iyin' to me," retorted Jack Finnegan, the Florida Renegade. "All these years you been callin' it campin'."

While the motor home symbolizes a family's ability to afford relatively luxurious travel vacations, for thousands of retired people it represents hard-won middle-class freedom. Instead of putting down new roots in Florida or Arizona, or planting new gardens in the backyard of th~ old homestead, they are uprooting. A Wmnebago salesman told about a

Manhattan couple in their 70s who contacted him about two years ago: the husband was a commercial artist who was finally ready to pack it in. They had only traveled out of the city once in their lives-to a wedding in Chicago. They bought the motor home and, with the salesman's help, learned how to drive and operate it. Then the salesman bought them a drink. The husband, who had all along been rather dour and tense, downed his quickly and bought the next round. After taking a few sips, he leaned back and a relaxed smile spread across his face. He put his feet up, threw his arm around his wife's shoulders, and exclaimed, "By God, Ma, we did it!"

The members of the 365 Club, whose logo is an empty rocking chair, consist of WITers who live in their motor homes for at least six months a year. Bob and Sylvia Hart have lived in their Hart's Desire year-round for almost a decade. Sylvia Hart, 66, is a freckled, plump grandmother who favors Cheryl Tiegs bluejean skirts. "We used to be from Van Nuys, California, but now we're from our Winnebago-home is where we park it," she said early one morning. "We've been to 16 state rallies this year, and in between we visit all the kids and relatives. The most we ever spend with anybody is two, three days. This way of life keeps us young-we just buzz, buzz, buzz all the time."

Her 68-year-old husband had been a construction engineer with the telephone company for 36 years. They'd been saving most of their lives for this great adventure. The year before he retired, they moved into their new motor home "to see if we could stand each other that close." In 1975 they took off.

"I think travelers are more understanding and sympathetic than regular tourists," observed Sylvia Hart, as she helped herself to the coffee provided by the Golden Bear Winnies. "And we've learned to cope with more things in close living. You have to sway and give."

After all the years on the road she said she was neither bored nor tired. She was always making new friends at rallies, and dashing across the country to visit them.

"We don't have to go out of the U.S. for anything-we have it all here. It makes you proud to be an American," she said, waving to a few Winnehahas. "There's always something more to see."

0

I About

the Author: fan H~ffman is a senior associate-editor with The Village VOIce.

CfheCJJluegrass

'W

hat would happen if you rounded up five ordinary Americans, who just happen to be mighty good musicians, bundled them onto an airplane and sent them to India to playa traditional form of American music that comes straight from the heart of the people?

Well, they would visit the Taj and eat some dosas and play up a storm of bluegrass music. Although the music they play is a far cry from the strains of the sitar and beat of the tabla, Indian audiences reacted with enthusiasm once they got used to the fast beat and the plunk of the banjo which characterize bluegrass music. Students in particular loved the music after hearing it only a short time . and in many cases, people clapped their hands and stamped their feet in much the same way as American bluegrass fans.

The five musicians came from the American South whose music is as much a part of that region as its hills and rivers and people. They call themselves the Bluegrass Cardinals, after a lively red bird, the state bird of Virginia, which may be found in many parts of the United States.

Their music is a form of country-andwestern that developed from southern folk traditions. It features harmonic vocals backed by stringed instruments,

which are not electrified as in so many commercial Nashville recordings.

Bluegrass got its name from the vegetation in a part of Kentucky where the singer and mandolin player Bill Monroe came from.

He called his band of the 1940s the Bluegrass Boys and his influence started a powerful trend.

For their part, the Cardinals found Indian music fascinating even though they never had experienced it before and the sounds were strange to their ears.

Said Don Parmley, founder and leader of the Bluegrass Cardinals: "I can't say I understand Indian music after hearing it for just a short spell. But I sense the rhythm of it, and the beat. And I know it is telling stories about the Indian people just as our music tells about Americans."

Don, who founded the band in 1974, is a natural musician who never has had formal training. He plays the banjo, a traditional American folk instrument which he plucks rather than strums. His talent for music is a legacy from two grandfathers who played the banjo back in his native Kentucky.

As a child, he used to listen on the radio to banjo playing of the bluegrass virtuoso Earl Scruggs.

"All I ever wanted to do was play the banjo," says Don. "But it was a hard way

'Polk

Top: Hands are clapping and feet are tapping (not seen) at a Bluegrass Cardinals concert in New Delhi. Above: Bassist Jack Leonard signs autographs for fans.

to make a living, and in those days most young people in my part of Kentucky wanted to leave there and try their luck somewhere else."

For Don Parmley that somewhere else was Cincinnati, Ohio, a midwest river city on the Kentucky border, where he worked in a box factory and drove a truck for a living. But all the while he kept on playing his banjo and dreaming of the day when he could have his own band and be a musician full time.

Then Don decided to move out west to California.

He'd gotten married and figured he might have an opportunity for

a better life there. He got a job driving a bus. Then his wife, Betty, gave birth to their son, David. Driving the lonely stretches of the western highways, Don would turn over in his mind the strains of bluegrass music he would someday write.

Lyrics came to him as he thought of the people he knew and the jobs they did, and of times past when the riverboats floated up and down the rivers.

Don found time to make an album of bluegrass tunes with some other musicians, which was heard by the producer of a popular television show, The Beverly Hillbillies. He liked it so much that he asked Don to play the incidental banjo music featured in the show. Don took the job on a part-time basis, but still stuck to bus driving.

This lasted nine years. Then one day the producer announced that The Beverly Hillbillies was taping its final show.

And that was when Don decided to strike out on his own as a full-time professional mUSICIan.

David, by then was 15 years old, a natural musician who Don thought would become a fiddle player. David had other ideas, though, and instead took up the guitar and also developed a fine, strong singing voice. Today he is the Cardinals' lead singer and guitarist.

Other young musicians joined the group. Mike Hartgrove, who plays the fiddle, is a young man who spent two years in formal study of his instrument while working in a machine shop, but who finally decided that his destiny lay in his music. Larry Stephenson, who plays the mandolin and sings tenor with the Cardinals, once worked in his parents' country store in rural Virginia. lack Leonard, youngest member of the group, comes from a family of musicians and plays bass. He also sings baritone when the Cardinals do a number requiring four voices.

"I'm sure that Indians don't know any more about bluegrass than I do about Indian music," said Larry Stephenson.

"But I guess they realize that bluegrass music comes from our people, just as their folk music comes from the Indian people."

Students at the Indian Institute of Technology (lIT), in .Delhi, where the Cardinals played their first concert, loved what they heard. It set them dancing in the aisles. Said one: "The music makes me think of the countryside-trees and mountains, cottages and village people.

This gives a picture of the real America."

Another student, Subodh Gupta, said that he loved the music. It was his first bluegrass experience and he said, "I want to hear it again and again."

Following the lIT performance, the Cardinals moved to the more formal surroundings of Delhi's Kamani Auditorium, where the audience included older people as well as students and young professionals.

Again the Cardinals were greeted with enthusiasm.

The audience got into the spirit of the occasion, clapping in time with the music and imploring the artists to give them more of the bluegrass sound after the final number of the regular program had been played.

David Parmley was surprised at the overwhelming response because he hadn't been sure what to expect. "To me, rhythm is the main feature of Indian music," he said. "We like to emphasize rhythm too. I guess Indian audiences can relate to that and after they get used to how we sound, they like it. We fpund that to be the case when we played in Europe too."

c57l

fter the concert at Kamani, the Cardinals, as they al. ways do, came down from the stage to mingle with the audience, exchanging ideas, answering questions and signing autographs.

The next day at St. Stephen's College, Principal John Hala dismissed the noon class so that as many students as possible could hear the Bluegrass Cardinals in a concert organized by students Tony George and Shefali Rajamannar.

The hall couldn't hold everyone who wanted to attend, so many students lined the porches on both sides of the hall to hear the program.

After their Delhi stay and sightseeing in Agra, the Cardinals went to Hyderabad, city of the Charminar and repository of some major events in Indian history.

There they received a typical South Indian welcome.

Hyderabad residents met the plane and transported the group to the hotel and later took them on a short sightseeing trip.

The Cardinals had their first taste of South Indian food in Hyderabad.

They were intrigued by the dosa which struck them as a large rolled pancake filled with spicy vegetables.

On the morning of their concert in Hyderabad, the Cardinals sat on the verandah of their hotel overlooking a

small lake and chatted informally with Sunil John and Raoul Johnson, two young writers for the Deccan Chronicle.

Don Parmley answered most of the questions, explaining that bluegrass music and country music grew out of the same . origins, but that country music in recent years has taken the same path as rock music and jazz, widening its audience.

"Bluegrass is closer to the people," said Don. "It is a family type of music, and the most popular way to hear it is to attend one of the bluegrass festivals that are held all over the country during summer months."

People come to the festivals from hundreds of kilometers around, whole families-husbands, wives and children sleeping in vans, campers and tents, he said. The festivals draw as many as 20,000 to 40,000 people. Though the crowds are huge, said Don, they are orderly because of the family nature of these events. On Sunday, the bluegrass bands present programs of gospel music, which is a major part of the bluegrass tradition.

That evening the Cardinals played a concert at Ravindra Bharathi Bhavan to a packed house. The audience particularly liked the ballads that told a story and the fast numbers, like "Orange Blossom Special." The group was called back for several encores. Afterward, they were invited to the home of a Hyderabad music lover for some home cooking.

"We really appreciated that," said Don Parmley, "because we were getting tired of hotel food. Food in India is spicy, but I like spicy food. In the U.S., I particularly like Mexican food, and Indian food has a lot of similar features."

The Cardinals' concert tour ended on a note of tragedy. When they arrived in Madras, they were informed of the assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and made immediate arrangements to cancel their performances.

"I know what the people of India were going through," said Don Parmley, "because I remember how it was in our country when John F. Kennedy died. My heart went out to the Indian people."

The Cardinals left India with a strong desire to return and play again. They were fascinated by what they had seen and warmed by Indian audiences who had adopted their rhythms as their own.

the Author: James H. Feldman, a Washington-based writer, accompanied the Bluegrass Cardinals during their India tour.

About

Top: It's hoedown time as the Bluegrass Cardinals pick and sing songs of the Southland. Above:~Mike Hartgrove

fiddles up a storm. Right: Banjoist Don Parmley is the founder and leader of the-Bluegrass Cardinals.

The Seeds of Prosperity By organizing themselves into cooperatives, oilseed farmers in several Indian states are finally reaping the full benefits of their harvests.

"If it worked with milk, why shouldn't it with groundnuts?" thought Dr. Verghese Kurien. And so he went on to apply his successful Amul recipe to solving the problem of India's groundnut farmers and edible oil consumers.

The result?

"I used to sell my groundnuts to millers' agents for only Rs. 3 to 3.50 per kilogram.

Today I earn Rs. 4.50 per kilogram by selling them to my cooperative," says Thakorbhai Makani, a 70-year-old farmer who produces about 700 kg of groundnuts every year from his farm in Gujarat.

What's more, since it's "my cooperative"-his and that of hundreds of other farmers-the profits of the entire project also get back to him. Makani's farm is in a village on the outskirts of Anand, the home of the Amul Dairy Cooperative that has become a trendsetter for the cooperative movement in India.

The Anand pattern frees the producers from the clutches of private traders, gives them a fair price for their produce, monitors quality scientifically and establishes prices that are equitable to both producers and consumers. While bringing this discipline into the trade, it also gives growers the benefit of reaping the profits from the trade.

India's milk-producing sector was in dire straits before Kurien administered the cooperative approach in the 1960s.

Oilseed and vegetable oil producers in India have always been in an unsteady position-vulnerable equally to climatic changes and the manipulations of the private trade.

The country's need for vegetable oil is as critical as its need for milk and the demand far outstrips the supply. Over the years India's import bill for vegetable oil has been among the highest-next only to petroleum.

The per capita. consumption of fats and oils in India is 17 gm a day. One-third of this comes from milk-but milk fat is relatively expensive, so the bulk has to come from vegetable oils. Though these oils are used as the major cooking medium by peo-

ple all over the country, oilseed production is concentrated in a few states. The bulk of vegetable oil is extracted from five major oilseeds-ground nut , mustard/rapeseed, cottonseed, sesame and soybean-of which groundnuts are the most important.

In the 1970s the scenario was disheartening: Ninety percent of India's groundnuts were produced under rain-fed conditions with no protective irrigation. A crop failure meant disaster for the farmer. And disaster spelled opportunity for the money lender.

The situation was further aggravated by the fact that several money lenders also indulged in speculative purchase of crops and owned the local crushing facilities. As a result the farmer was at the mercy of the same individual for credit and for purchase of his crop. He had to accept whatever price the trader offered after harvest. So powerful was the control of this dominant group that they could dictate prices almost at will. They flooded the market with the previous year's hoarded harvest to create an artificial condition of plenty at harvest time: the prices fell, forcing the farmer to accept an uneconomical price for his crop. Then they hoarded the crop to create conditions of artificial scarcity in'the market to hike up the prices to the consumers, making massive profits for themselves in the bargain.

When the Gujarat government approached Kurien for a remedy, a replay of the Amul Cooperative and Operation Flood success stories seemed the right answer, encompassing as they did the two theories that Kurien had proved worked: the organization of farmers into cooperatives and the initial input of donated commodities.

The Amul story is well known: How Kurien organized the milk producers of Anand in Gujarat's Kaira district into cooperatives, eliminating the middleman who had been walking off with the cream. Amul showed the way to the rest of the country.

Visiting Anand in the early 1960s Prime Minister Lal Bahadur 'Shastri commented that while their dairy project was such a tremendous success, in the rest of the coun¡¡ try dairy farming was in a shambles. At his initiative, Kurien was asked to prepare a scheme that would extend the Anand pattern to the entire country. The National Dairy Development Board (NDDB) was set up with Kurien as its chairman (a post he still retains). When many of the states were

.

.

not able to allocate funds for the scheme, Operation Flood was born-on the basis of Kurien's firm belief that commodity inputs could get the White Revolution program} off to a good start. ' NDDB was faced with an unenviable situation: milk production was on the decline but the demand for milk and milk products was increasing. One solution was to import milk products from Europe which then had a big surplus of them. But Kurien feared that the dumping of large quantities of powdered milk, butter and cheese in India would depress prices-and hurt the growth of the already sick dairy industry in the country. For in the long run it is the price paid to the producer that affects the industry more than the price paid by the consumer. A lo.w price to the producer ultimately leads to low production as it means that the producer doesn't have enough to invest in next year's production. . He either produces less or shifts to a more profitable crop.

Kurien devised a way of relieving the Europeans of their surplus in the form of a gift thus precluding the sale of milk and milk products to India. At the same time, the sale of that donated product was managed in such a way as to generate funds for the NO DB project.

"I think this was a really brilliant troke," says Tom Carter, the representative in India for the Cooperative League of the. United States of America (CLUSA).

CLUSA was founded in 1916 as a federation of cooperatives representing all sectors of the cooperative movement in the United States. Today it has more than 200 primary, state, regional and national cooperatives as its members, incorporating more than 55 million primary members. It became involved in the international cooperative movemenl during World War II to help Italian cooperatives which had suffered extensive losses. From that point on, CLUSA was committed to strengthening the cooperative movement throughout the world. Its collaboration with the Indian cooperative movement began in the 1950s.

CLUSA has been closely associated with NDDB's projects for milk and vegetable oil.

It provided NDDB with American cooperative dairy specialists to assist in some aspects of planning the milk project. "At the beginning of Operation Flood," says Carter, "milk

production in India was almost stagnant. If that condition had been allowed to continue; India today would have been purchasing extraordinary amounts of dairy products. But now the donations have virtually ceased and the milk powder you get in the market is not from Europe but from Maharashtra, Gujarat or Rajasthan."

Until a few years ago vegetable oils were in the position that milk was in the preOperation Flood days. So in 1978 the government of Gujarat asked the National Dairy Development Board to draw up a plan patterned on the earlier successful project in milk. The Central Government decided that the project should be implemented on an all-India basis in groundnut -producing states.

The project, "Restructuring Edible Oils and Oilseed Production and Marketing" is designed to integrate production, procurement, processing and marketing of oilseeds and vegetable oils through a two-tier cooperative structure, consisting of oilseed producers cooperative societies at the village level and an oilseed growers cooperative federation at the state level.

The basic idea is to ensure a fair deal to the growers, better production and processing facilities,a disciplined and stable market ... and all this in such a way that it is in the hands of the producers, freeing them from the grasp of middlemen. Though the project does directly and indirectly affect oilseed yields, the present demand for vegetable oil in the country is too large to be met by domestic produce even at its optimum. Eliminating the import bill remains a long-term objective. In the short-term, what the NDDB project can do is to gradually reverse the spiraling rate of import increases.

NDDB set about its task of implementing this project to restructure the oil and oilseeds market in Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh,

Orissa, Karnataka and Maharashtra, in a systematic way.

The first step was to organize the farmers into cooperatives. That didn't pose much of a problem because most of the farmers had witnessed or heard of the success of Operation Flood and the results of cooperative dairy farming.

As with Operation Flood, the initial money for the project has come-and is still coming-from sale of edible oil donated by CLUSA and the Cooperative Union uf Canada (CUe) over a seven-year period, beginning in 1979. Under the agreements NDDB is to receive 160,000 tons of refined soybean oil from CLUSA as a gift and crude rapeseed oil worth Canadian $75 million from the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) through CUC. By December 1984 CLUSA, which gets the oil through the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), had already donated some 126,700 tons of refined soybean oil.

Apart from providing funds, the import of commodities in a fluctuating market helps to form a buffer stock and regenerate resources.

The donated oil is sold by NDDB¡ to state-level cooperatives, which .. sell it through their retail marketing systems.

The sale of donated oilseed comprises only some of the funding for the project. "An important portion," says Carter, "comes from the shares of the cooperatives. Each farmer has to buy at least one share of Rs. 50.

At present there are about 150,000 members in five Indian states-that's an important contribution."

These 150,000 members are organized in some 1,500 cooperatives in Gujarat, Andhra Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Tamil Nadu and Orissa. "By 1988," says Carter, "the aim is to have half a million farmers in 3,000-3,500

A meeting of oilseed farmers at one of the cooperatives in Gujarat.

So far some 150,000 farmers have organized into 1,500 cooperatives in five states.

cooperatives. This would cover about 7 percent of the total oilseed area in India."

The first function of .the cooperatives is to provide or coordinate efforts to supply inputs like pesticides, improved seeds, etc.

The federations make bulk purchases at wholesale prices of seeds and fertilizers which are sold to the farmers at rates well below market prices. Federation field staff then carry out an intensive extension program to help farmers increase yields.

The next step is procurement. For the cooperatives to be effective, they have to purchase significant amounts of ground nuts from the farmers, diverting them away from the godowns of speculative traders. Gujarat's groundnut country is a typical example. "We plan to ultimately capture 15 percent of the business," says Kurien. In 1982, the Gujarat Cooperative Oilseed Growers Federation was able to purchase 4 percent of the entire groundnut crop of the state.

"For the project to succeed, eventually around 1.5 tons of oilseed per member will have to be procured by the cooperatives. At the moment it's about half of that," says Carter.

The farmers' harvest is purchased by their cooperatives at a fair price and sent to the farmers' own state-level organization, the Oilseed Growers Federation which crushes the groundnut and markets the oil.

Two federations have their own processing plant6~others are in the process of purchasing or building them. "So far," says Carter, "about 150,000 tons of processing capacity has been acquired by the cooperatives. The largest and most modern groundnut processing plant in the country is being built in Junagadh in Gujarat. Plants in Bhavnagar and Jamnagar are already under operation. Others are coming up. One of the largest soybean processing plants-with a 400-tons-a-day capacity-is being erected at Ujjain in Madhya Pradesh."

All these are owned by the farmers.through their cooperatives. Most of the equipment is Indian. For about 18 months CLUSA arranged for an American engineer to help NDDB staff with the design, layout and renovation of the plants.

Quality is judged and monitored at both levels-when the produce is purchased and later when the oil is processed. Each processing unit has a laboratory.

The project-now five years old-has already fulfilled some of its promise. In certain areas of the country-notably Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh-each stage has been completed: cooperative formation, pro-

AChipof

Silicon

Valley

in India

Driving through the pastoral Silicon Valley in Santa Clara, California, it is difficult to imagine that one is in an area which has ushered in the most profound revolution since the invention of the wheel. It is a land of living legends, wizards of electronic circuitry such as the 54-year-old Robert Noyce, who invented the integrated circuit. Stanford's Nobel laureate, Dr. William Shockley, inventor of the transistor and the discoverer of Silicon Valley, is a distant father-figure. Today's legend makers are 37-year-old Sandy Kurtzig, an aeronautical engineer who entered the minicomputer market in 1975 and now heads the $1DO-million ASK computer systems and 29-year-old Steve Jobs, the maker of Apple Computers, a flourishing $1 DO-million enterprise.

This is an industry which attracts result-oriented highenergy people who are constantly striving to figure out how they , can outdo their rivals in invention and business. It is a matter of national pride for an Indian that in this competitive field the Indians occupy a high pride of place. In fact Silicon Valley contains within it one area of Indo-American cooperation as yet not adequately acknowledged or appreciated. Between 18 and 20 percent of the top scientists in the "chip" industry are from India.

To Dan Boyd, director, Joint De-

velopment Team, of the American Microsystems Inc. (AMI), it is no surprise. "The young Indians who come here are top class, have a clear grasp of the subject and their theoretical understanding is perfect. Their I I penchant for hard work is amazing. In 1982 AMI trained 16 young engineers from the Semiconductor Complex Limited (SCl), a Government of India undertaking located in Mohali, Punjab. Now the SCl has designed and developed silicon wafers without our engineers having to visit India to aid them," says Dr. Boyd. Veerendra Mohan, chairman and managing director of the Rs. 700 million high-tech venture in India is understandably proud. But he adds that a major share of the credit is due to AMI's training ability.

"Their thoroughness and rigorous work schedule is part of the reason why our scientists are so self-reliant."

In 1981 SCl signed a technology-licensing agreement with AMI. Under this the American company helps its Indian counterpart in several areas of semiconductor technology, starting with training to fabrication, assembly and testing, maskmaking and providing expertise in both software and hardware technologies.

On its part, SCl provided the labor and agreed to act as AMI's

A new Indo-U.S. venture to manufacture microchips, the heart of a computer, has started near Chandigarh. The Semiconductor Complex Limited, facing page, uses the latest technology and electronic systems to produce advanced microchips in India.

exclusive sales representative in India. SCL now has a fully equipped factory where production has already started.

As I am taken around AMI's semiconductor facility, I am struck by its near-total resemblance to the Indian factory near Chandigarh. The whole area is dust-free, easy perhaps in fabulous Santa Clara but not so easy in pollution-ridden Mohali. Yet the designers of SCt.: have done the seemingly impossible task of keeping dust and drudgery out of its precincts.

Why choose AMI which is only a medium-sized company?

Why not some semiconductor giant with the latest technology? I asked Veerendra Mohan. He pointed out that what AMI provided was appropriate technology. "Almost 90 percent of the semiconductor business in the United States is covered by 5-micron devices. What India needs is not the latest technology but the right technology and right equipment to meet the specific requirements of the country. This AMI is highly qualified to do.

"They have an extremely well developed design system and process. AMI is unique in its capacity to take up custom design. They can give us a large number of devices in small quantities. Larger firms can sell economically only in large quantities. And India is in no position to utilize these. To give one concrete example, the SCl-AMI joint venture has supplied an alarm enunciator to the Bharat Heavy Electricals Limited (BHEL). Fitted into the BHEl generators, in use in power plants all over the country, the device will raise an alarm when a generator is overloaded. We just made 250 pieces-a low quantum of production unthinkable in the United States."

Terry Bross, program manager, Technology Interfaces, told me the same thing at AMI. "Ours is a design-intensive company different from corporate giants which concentrate on memory circuits or other high-volume, mass-market catalog products. The demands of custom integrated circuit makers vary from one unit to another. Each customer has specific

needs., Meeting these needs requires extensive capability coupled with tremendous adaptability.

"We are always in a position to begin work with a customer at any level of technology from system concept to fabrication.

Or, as we are doing with SCl, we teach circuit design through a joint development team. This flexibility gives our customer the best value for his money and the best solution to his problems.

We have 25 sophisticated processes of our own backed by the latest technology. No other company has this unique combination of custom capabilities."

AMI has what SCl wants. But is it also what India wants?

"Yes," says V. Ara,vamudhan, one of the leading participants in the SCl-AMI cooperative venture and a general manager at SCl. "We now have the technology and expertise to make the entire communications systems in the country more efficient, cheaper and less frustrating to the consumers."

Or take medical electronics. "All our hospitals are terribly overcrowded.

Doctors spend. a lot of time going through each patient's history-time that could be devoted for treating more people.

Computers can be installed to store the data, symptoms, past record of disease, etc., of patients ... they can ev.en diagnose and suggest possible treatment."

Even commercially the market is bright. But Mohan is more worried about meeting national obligations and social objectives by the acquisition of this technology and equipment. The American collaboration has been most helpful in this regard. He says all the known and foreseeable needs in communications, industrial, medical and consumer electronics can be covered by technology now available in India.

"A whole range of simple, single-chip devices can be made and sold in India." SCl made 60,000 watch modules last year and hopes to make 300,000 this year. The aim is to market a digital watch for Rs. 30 ... make computers for use in schools, colleges, professional institutions, hospitals, industries.

With the success of the INSAT 1B experiments the country needs an efficient and dependable television network. SCl is¡ contracting with the American giant, In for the mass production of 5-chip digital TV involving the most recent technology.

Separately, SCl is negotiating with another American high-tech giant, Rockwell Corporation, for collaboration in the manufacture of personal computers incorporating the most recent microprocessor 6502 series.

The vistas are large and open, the future bright-and the scientific community seeks out excellence wherever it can flourish.

0 About the Author: V.N. Narayanan is deputy editor of The Tribune in Chandigarh. He has been awarded a 1985-86 Jefferson Fellowship,

Recently America honored five of its internationally renowned artists at a glittering ceremony at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C., attended by President and Mrs. Reagan. They were (seated, from left) violinist Issac Stern, 64; singer-actress Lena Horne, 67; and (standing, from left) composer Gian Carlo Menotti, 73; playwright Arthur Miller, 68; and actorentertainer Danny Kaye, 71.

Walter Cronkite, who was master of ceremonies, said of the winners, "Their gifts, their wit, their grace has enriched the nation and the world." Acknowledging the diplomatic role artists play in fostering goodwill and friendships around the world, Secretary of State George Shultz said at the ceremony, "It is interesting to think the relationship between people has more stability to it than relationships between governments. These relationships we make around the world provide a safety net for government relations. "

PLUCKY PLANE FIGHTING HUNGER WINGS OF MERCY

If there is one person who can be called the Leonardo da Vinci of modern aviation, that man is Burt Rutan. His single-handed achievements, experts say, are altering the shape of the aircraft of tomorrow.

Rutan's latest trailblazing creation is Voyager, a sleek, unusuallooking flying machine that, says

David F. Salisbury in a recent article in The Christian Science Monitor, "can fly around the world without stopping or refueling-double the distance of the current longdistance record."

Made on a shoestring budget of $200,000, Voyager weighs just 816 kilograms without fuel, has a wingspan of 33.3 meters-equal to that of a Boeing 727 jetliner-and its top speed is about 150 knots.

But for all its fragility, Voyager will carry 4,050 kilograms of fuel when it takes to the skies on its maiden 12-day, 40,000-kilometer, globegirdling flight soon.

"The term 'Renaissance man' applies in Rutan's case," says Bruce Holmes of the U.S. National Aeronautics and Space Administration. "At a time of extreme specialization, he has made major contributions in aircraft design."

Rutan's ideas have proved the

value of the "canard (duck)," a configuration with the large wings at the back and the small wings in front. This arrangement greatly reduces the problem of stall-spinning, a major danger in small planes of conventional design.

Of equal or greater importance, according to Salisbury, has been Rutan's pioneering work in the use of composite materials,' primarily foam and fiberglass. These materials allow an airframe to be built as an integral unit rather than an assembly of parts-as major an advance as the .replacement of wood and fabric with metal in the 1930s.

Airframes like that of the Voyager can be made far smoother than possible with conventional techniques, using hundreds of joints and thousands of rivets. This greatly reduces skin friction and substantially improves fuel efficiency. Voyager uses 15 liters of fuel an hour.

The U.S. Food jor Peace program, the largest of its kind in the world, accounting for 60 percent of all the food donated globally, completed 30 years in 1984.

"It is the primary mechanism of the U.S. Government to provide disaster, humanitarian and development assistance to developing countries," said Julia Chang Bloch, assistant administrator for the program, at a press conference in New Delhi last month. Bloch was here to attend the Asia Regional Food for Peace workshop organizea by the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID).

Citing the case of the present African drought, she pointed out, "It is the worst in history, affecting more than 14 million people in Ethiopia, Sudan, Kenya, Mozambique, Chad, Niger, Mauritania and Mali. To tide people over this colossal human tragedy, the United States has pledged one-half of the estimated 3 million tons of emergency food aid needed to forestall famine during 1985.

This is on top of the 1.2 million tons of regular food aid that the United States supplies globally each year, one-fourth of which goes to Africa," she said. ,The total American food assistance to Africa may in fact be much more, according to Bloch. As President Ronald Reagan said recently, "Even with all our country has already done to feed the starving, much more must be accomplished by our nation in the months ahead to meet this challenge."

·Song for

Hoping that other nations will join in this international effort, Bloch noted, "It's heartening to know that India, which itself once faced major food shortages, plans to donate foodgrains for the African people."

India's rapid strides in agriculture, she continued, "is a lesson to other developing nations. They must emulate the Indian experience-of how, with. right policies and practices, a position of dependency can be transformed into one of selfreliance and self-sufficiency."

In India, Food for Peace provides wheat, rice, corn, soya milk, soya-fortified bulgar and refined edible oil for maternal and child health, school feeding (midday meals programs in schools) and Food for Work programs. It also supplies foodgrains to Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity for its programs for destitute adults and orphaned children.

Actual disbursement of these commodities in India is overseen by U.S. voluntary organizations, like CARE (Cooperatives for American Relief Every- .' where) and CLUSA (Cooperative League of the USA), in conjunction with the government and Indian voluntary agencies.

The most unusual of these programs is the one CLUSA is handling. It is unique in that it uses Food for Peace resources in a completely monetized way. CLUSA sup. plies edible oil to the National Dairy Development Board-NDDB-to develop cooperatives, promote oilseed production and processing facilities (see page 34). "Import of edible oil," Bloch said, "is a major drain on India's foreign reserves, and we hope this program leads to selfreliance in edible oil as NDDB's Operation Flood has in milk production.

"India's success in agriculture is so impressive, we may be phasing out the Food for Peace program in this country."

SPAN·

Among the many thoughtful and· generous congratulations SPAN received on its 25th anniversary was this song by bard T.K. Mahadevan:

Come pan the silvered eagle Upon the Silver SPAN; Go bid the doubting beadle Proclaim to all the land: "Our friendship's not a wheedle, We stand linked hand in hand."

he Corporate Angel Network

l

lf(CAN) has an unusual mission of mercy. It taps a precious resource that was going to waste-empty seats on the routine business flights of America's privately owned corporate aircraft-to help cancer patients, who must travel great distances to medical institutions around the country to obtain the best treatment but cannot afford air fares.

Since its founding in 1981, says CAN president Priscilla H. Blum, "The nonprofit network has enlisted the' cooperation of more than 270 U.S. corporations plus two labor unions.

CAN has already flown about 300 cancer patients 960,000 kilometers to or from major cancer treatment centers in dignified comfort aboard the jets of America's top corporations."

CAN, which has access to more than 600 corporate planes, coordinates an average of 25-30 patient flights per month from its headquarters in White Plains, New York, using space donated by Champion International Corporation (CIC). "Everyone-the patients, the pilots and company officials who fly with them-comes away from the experience a better and more compassionate person," says CIC's senior vice president John Ball.

The Corporate Angel Network gets patient referrals primarily through social workers at major cancer centers in the United States and through the 58 American Cancer Society divisions.

But, as word spreads about CAN, Blum says, "Heartwarming spinoffs occur with increasing frequency." A dozen privately owned taxi services have offered ground transportation to CAN passengers at departure or arrival if family or friends are unable to provide it. Avis Rent-a-Car has guaranteed a c,ar and driver on a nationwide basis, if necessary, and the Marriott Hotels h;ave offered overnight accommodation to CAN patients. One fuel company e1ven offers a discount on jet fuel to an aircraft with a CAN patient aboard.

Expressing his gratitude, a patient who benefited from the network wrote, "The CAN service exemplifies the finest gesture of compassion and service in terms of corporate caring."

In a recent telepress conference organized by the U.S. Information Service in Bombay, eight Indian economists and business leaders had a wide-ranging dialogue on global economic issues with the Nobel laureate Paul Samuelson. The participants were D.R. Pendse, economic adviser to the Tata group of industries (who moderated the conference); A.C. Vakil, secretary-general, Indo-American Chamber of Commerce; P.R. Brahmananda, director, department of economics, University of Bombay; Gangadhar Gadgil, economic adviser, Hindustan Construction Company; N.J. Jhaveri, deputy general manager, Industrial Credit and Investment Corporation of India; S. C. Sarkar, associate editor. Commerce; V. Subramaniam, member, Maharashtra Legislative Assembly; and Sadanand Varde, member,.

Maharashtra Legislative Council and professor of economics, National College, Bombay. The following excerpts convey some of the spirit of the lively exchanges.

Pendse: Professor Samuelson, as an economist with a private-sector corporation, I was very interested about the point you raise in your new book [Samuelson Sampler of 99 Essays] as to why businessmen do not receive the respect and affection of the community at large. Since you wrote this essay, I get a feeling that perhaps the situation, if anything, has been aggravated further. Do you have any prescription or advice for the businessman or industrialist, who is doing an honest job, as to what he should do to command more respect from society than he does at present?

Samuelson: Let me first report on the area I know-the United States, North America and Western Europe. I don't think that it's the case that in the last 10 or 20 years the degree of respect accorded to the business entrepreneur has diminished in my country. On the contrary, there is a small comeback of respect. Even in the Democratic Party there is not the same unreasoned hostility toward the entrepreneurial function.

Now, I'm not able to judge with any expertise whether in the developing parts of the world there has been a change. But there are certain universals since the beginning of time. An old teacher of mine once said, "The world has loved the farmer and hated the landlord and has hated the businessman." I guess that's part of the game. Certainly when the business community performs well, I realize that performing well does not simply depend upon the personal qualities of the entrepreneurs; it depends on the market structure and the social rules of the game-in general, the degree of respect changes in a way favorable toward the market system.

Let me give the example of Japan, which always surprises me. For in some ways it is the most capitalistic country in the WOrld,much more capitalistic than even the United States. But when I deal with the university community there, at least half its members have a Marxist orientation. So when I first went to Japan in the 1950s, I would probably have made a wrong prediction about the future of its economy. I would probably have said that with the lack of respect for the Schumpeter [small] entrepreneur that prevails among the intelligentsia in Japan, the future of the mixed economy and the market system in Japan is at least in doubt. But the Japanese seem to be very impressed by how well the system has worked for them.

I think the market system will be judged not by whether the brown eyes of the businessman are beautiful and whether his smile is beguiling, but whether the system really delivers the goods. John Maynard Keynes said at the depth of the Depression-he probably changed his mind five times over, back and forth, afterward-that the market system is not beautiful and it does work. When I say the market system, I

An

Economist's Prescription

always mean the mixed economy, the combination of the rules of the game set by government and the competitive forces of individuals.

Vakil: It's an honor to read the Samuelson Sampler of 99 Essays, which I thoroughly enjoyed, specially the very understanding references that you have made on India in the essay on intellectuals. But what I am interested to know is the future scenario for the less developed nations from the economic standpoint. I am also interested to know your views and the promise of international business cooperation.

Samuelson: I think that there is a whole range of manufacturing industry in the LDCs [less developed countries] which, with a little bit of luck and good management in countries like India, can turn out to have their comparative advantage in the LDCs. I don't think that the Japanese example is singular and exceptional and can't be imitated. If the industrialized world can keep down the virus of protectionism, if we can keep our markets open to the LDCs who are able, in part because of their labor abundance, to provide our manufacturing needs at lower costs and, in return in a two-way trade, receive from us the food supplements and the more advanced technology, I think between now and the end of the century we can see growth in the LDCs. But there is nothing guaranteed about the process. Unfortunately, some of the concern about the loss of jobs in the United States, which has been generated not by imports from India but by imports from Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore and the like, will, alas, militate toward some protectionism against India, Pakistan and the poorer LDCs. But the good thing is that America now is in a very vigorous recovery phase, and the forces of protectionism have weakened a bit. So I have hopes for the LDCs. At the same time, in preparation for this conversation, I have been looking at the statistics, and I must confess that as I looked at the record from 1950 to 1984, how India has performed vis-a-vis the United States, how Pakistan has fared and how Bangladesh and Sri Lanka have done-just to take neighbors of yours-it has been a case of percentage growth that has been about the same as our percentage growth.

Now, why am I disappointed? I'm disappointed because for us that's a good performance. We're very affluent. We have a life expectancy of 75 years; you still have a growing population.

I'm so old-fashioned in economics that I think that's a problem rather than an opportunity. That's good performance on your part, but it's not good enough for you, not good enough for my hopes for you.

Brahmananda: In Keynes in the Modern World, you said that what killed [Milton] Friedman's theories is new classical economics. But don't you think that that would also affect many of your ideas in the book? Another question. I agree with the late Professor Joan Robinson and also Richard Kahn in his latest book The Making of Keynes' General Theory that Keynesianism in the United States has really been modified out of shape. What is your reaction?

Samuelson: People often ask me, "Are you still a Keynesian?" and my answer is a simple one: If you mean by a

Keynesian a 1939-style Keynesian, then I'm certainly not that.

The world has changed greatly since the late 1930s when the General Theory was written and, like Keynes, when my information changes, I change my analysis and my views. But if somebody says, "Does that mean you have gone back to what you learned in the pre-Keynesian age?" my answer is: no. It is by the Keynesian tools that we remake the primitive Keynesianism of the Great Depression into the more mainstream, post-Keynesian tools that, I. would think, give the best explanation of, for example, what happened in the American economy in the early 1980s.

One of my life's disappointments is that a whole generation of post-Keynesian writers has gone into one small alleyway of microeconomics and, like a maze, they have never returned from it. If you ask these people what should be done about the recession of 1980 or 1981, they would say, "Oh, I don't want to talk about that."

Gadgil: Professor Samuelson, you have spoken very highly of the policies adopted by [Robert] McNamara regarding foreign aid to developing countries. There is now a basic change in this policy, and even the International Monetary Fund, when it gives loans for economic adjustment to countries like India, lays down certain conditions. What is your view about this change in attitude toward foreign aid?

Samuelson: It's an old and sad story. The amount of generosity that the electorate of the advanced world are able to extend in the way of unilateral gifts to help people not so fortunate is very limited, and each year it seems to become less and less. We have struggled very hard, liberals. like me-and I'm using the word liberal in the American sense-to increase the fraction of our GNP [gross national product] which goes in untied, unilateral gifts to the developing world from 3/8ths of 1 percent to 1/2 of 1 percent. And we consider a country like say Sweden extremely generous when it got up to 1 percent of its GNP for aid. So, it's quite clear that that kind of altruism is extremely limited and the destiny of the LDCs between now and the end of the century is going to depend primarily upon what happens within those countries themselves.

About the new austerity which the international agencies are imposing, or trying to impose, upon the debtor nations and on new loans: I have to go back to 1973 when there was a fivefold increase in the price of energy-the OPEC [Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries] revolution. And again in 1978-79. Unfortunately, many people in America and in Europe-now I'm speaking of economists, like myself, who are liberals-argued in the following way: This is a temporary thing, the whole purpose of loan finance is to tide you over temporary situations. So a typical LDC should not bite the bullet, should not adjust to this temporary situation, but should depend upon loan finance.

Now who can provide that loan finance? Prosperous countries like the United States, which are very creditworthy, can do so. At this point the private bankers came into the picture. They were very happy to extend the credits. They make their profits at the verybeginning when the loans are financed. I'm sure that the head of Citibank in New York never doubted for a moment that some government would rescue his loan if it turned bad. So, it's not the old Alfred Marshall textbook kind of borrowing and lending between private individuals who are well-informed about each other's resources. This was shot through from the beginning with implicit dependence upon government.

Using hindsight, I have to say now that this was a mistake.

The countries that realized that the post-1973 revolution in energy prices was permanent-and in 1978 we got another turn

of the screw-and which made their adjustment immediately, difficult as it was, were better off in their own interests.

So I think this debt situation has to be a work-out situation in which plenty of mistakes were made, including mistakes on the part of the lending advanced countries. I think it's quixotic, romantic, unbelievable to think there will be a wind-up of these loans which is painless to all concerned. It's a matter, I think, of politics, not of economics, of how hard the international agencies can lean, let's say, on Argentina. Argentina must n@t, in its own interest, become the bad boy of the world. "We want it to shape up"-I'm speaking now in bankers' terms. There is only so much that the market can bear; human flesh is frail. I think this is the kind of situation where pragmatism, not hard principle, must be relied upon.

There is not a McNamara now at the head of the World Bank. Sigmund Freud once said that part of growing up is the reality principle, of seeing what's there in the real world as against what you and I would like to have be there. The advice I would give is that in some degree if you deem it worthwhile to receive the loan under imposed conditions, do it. But I would say to those making the loan that if you make the conditions too onerous then it would simply be a self-defeating effort.

Jhaveri: Professor Samuelson, you have rightly advocated mixed economy as an alternative to totalitarianism and laissez faire for promotingcgrowth;lJoweyer,¡¡if the Swedish welfare state miracle cannot last as you say, and planning and good intentions cannot bring chicken in every pot as you say, I wonder what really is the solution for LDCs that wish to avoid the totalitarian way. Mind you, one cannot wish away populous democracies and many of the shortcomings of a feudalistic political structure and at the same time one cannot overlook the fact that many LDCs have competent economic administrators, managers and technocrats.

Samuelson: One disappointment of my professional life has been how dreary the outcome has generally been for a typical colonial country, which in the old days was able to blame the exploiting mother country for its plight. I'm thinking not of India, but of a typical African country. The good citizen there dreams of independence and the removal of the exploitation.

Then independence arrives, a constitution is framed, usually a beautiful constitution. But, instead of a realistic implementation of the constitution, the result is a one-party system in politics. Similarly, a five-year plan is competently drawn up, usually by people who have studied at the London School of Economics, or Harvard or MIT. But the plan is not even worth the paper that it is written on. The result is what you might call a soft socialist system which has been extremely disappointing.

Now if one looks for a success story, we are constantly being" reminded about what in the United States is jokingly called the "gang of four"-South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore and Hong Kong. They have shown in the last 15-20 years the kind of rapid and sustained growth that Japan showed at the beginning of the post-World War II era.

One of the disappointments is the relationship between politics and economics. What one would like in a well-working mixed economy is an open democratic system that is successfully operating in cooperation between the forces of market competition and the rules of the road.

The trouble with any kind of imposed system is that it has no temporal stability. You've had one dictator after another in a number of countries, and in the beginning people say there is a big economic recovery going in these countries. But a dictator never knows the temperature in the body politic under the surface. So what you gain in the short run in these imposed

systems, you tend to lose in the long run.

Five-Year Plan, whose objectives are food, work and producWhere do I come out? Where I come out is a respect for the tivity. All these have something to do with the quality of our market, not idolization of the market. I don't say as a matter of 'life. Now, as you mention, politics is central to economics as it philosophy that laissez faire and business freedom are the one is necessary it should be. Don't you think it is necessary that we thing that really counts. I'm pragmatic. When the market can should have political stability for which purpose it may be do a job well, I want to entrust things to the market. When necessary for us to incur the necessary resources? there is coordination from the government to advantage, I'm Samuelson: To answer your question, I think that political for that. stability, genuine political stability-I'm not speaking of an Sarkar: I want to draw your attention to two convergences imposed order-is a central feature of successful economic in the condition in both the developing and the developed performance. I would only point out the example of Iran. The countries. The first is the underutilization of capacity in both. Shah of Iran, because of fortuitous discovery of oil, was able to The second is the subsidized capitalism. In every country, show in the World Bank atlas each year a tremendous real rate whether rich or poor, the capitalist has to be subsidized out of of growth in the Iranian economy. But when the rebellion public funds. Now, this is a very peculiar phenomenon: that came, it turned out that there was no class in the Iranian society irrespective of the level of economic development you have to that was loyal, in any degree, to the Shah. And since that time, provide .subsidy to the rich. How do you beat the situation? as I examine the behavior of the real GNP in Iran, we've seen a Samuelson: The "Mussolini disease" is the name that I have notable deterioration. If somehow Iran, throughout this whole given to a situation that you have described. During the Great period, had been able to have the kind of democracy which we Depression, when Mussolini was the dictator in Italy, the Bank admire in India and had the good fortune of its position vis-a-vis of Italy not only had to undertake open market operations of oil, then I tpink you could have seen a truly remarkable and the conventional type, but the Mussolini government supported permanent rate of growth in Iran. So, India's one big asset' is the stock market in Milano. In doing that the government that it's one of the few postcolonial societies that have been able acquired shares in many of the big companies. So, when to evolve in the direction of an open democracy.

Mussolini was gone, a large part of the enterprise in Italy was Varde: I would like to ask you a question about the performowned by the government. Well, that's an advantage and a ance of the American economy in 1983, because it seems to me disadvantage. It's an advantage when we look at the French that this performance, if you look at some of the parameters, economy under De Gaulle. The part of the French economy raises certain doubts about the views that you have expressed. which met its targets of investment when they were trying to In 1983 the U.S. economy created as many as four million jobs fight a recession, for example, was the public sector-the across the board in many manufacturing industries. And this electric utilities, the railroad sector. But in Italy, if you were has happened in a year when we saw inflation drop to 3.2 part of this public sector and the market for your product was percent. Now this is the lowest annual increase in the consumer eroded, you couldn't fire workers, even though there was no price index in the United States since 1967. Does this performwork for them. ance mean that the Phillips Curve hypothesis, which formulates In a mixed economy, every idea spreads and pretty soon in an inverse relation between unemployment and inflation, is no Italy, if you owned a private large corporation, say Olivetti, you longer valid? were not free to fire workers when the recession came. If you Samuelson: I believe that the recovery from the 1981-82 said to the government, "We have no useful work for them," recession was brought about by Chairman Paul Volcker of the they would say, "Never mind, you have a public responsibility Federal Reserve Board. He threw away the book of monetarto keep' the workers hired." ism which the Federal Reserve had been operating under from Now you point out that this is a universal phenomenon. I 1979 until 1982. He saw a window of opportunity to turn the agree that in the United States we have the case of Chrysler recession around, and he brought interest rates down very most recently, we had the failure of the Penn Central Railroad, strongly by a very expansionary rate of growth of the money we now have the Continental Illinois Bank failure. But I want supply. Instead of that frightening Wall Street and leading to to insist upon our having a quantitative estimate of the inflationary self-reinforcing expectations, Wall Street was deimportance of this. In a country like the United States, the lighted, and we had one of the biggest stock market and bond amount of subsidization of business which cannot meet the test market booms of our time. So by November 1982, the turn came.

A last point about the Phillips Curve. Many American of the market is really miniscule in terms of our gross national product. We are not talking of a Mussolini disease which infests economists have been studying whether our improvement in 15 percent of the U.S. economy, or even 1 percent. It's not a our rate of inflation is more than it'd been forecast. Was it case where in any significant degree the U.S. business system is perhaps in agreement with the tenets of the new school of rational expectations which said it's much easier to get inflation being kept alive in an oxygen tent by means of government subsidy. . down if only you produce a credible program? Well, they have now made the measurements. What did we accomplish in I'm in favor of a government intervention to ease transition.

But if you get into a mixed economy in which everybody is inflation reduction? Much. What did it cost us in terms of producing just in order to create jobs and without regard to unemployment? By and large, the numbers are almost exactly whether something useful is being done-some market test, some on the Phillips Curve projections, which were made by a private or public utility test-then pretty soon you're simply number of economists. Now, does that mean I'm complacent? spinning the wheels, and you've lost the whole purpose of That the ideas which I had in 1979 were perfect? No. All of economic life. The Mussolini disease, let me say here, is very modern macroeconomics is in a ferment. Anyone who is insidious, which can spread. A person of good will (I'm talking self-confident and complacent today just does not know the ball game. So, we're learning things all the time, but it's not simple now not as a hardboiled market economist but as a humanitarian lessons that we're learning. What we're learning is that macroand citizen of the world) .must watch it very carefully.

Subramaniam: As you know we have adopted a democratic economics is more complicated, not more simple, than we '0 planning process, and we are on the threshold of the Seventh thought.

W

hy," asked The New York Times, "did the American Dance Festival choose to open its 50th anniversary season with a performance of dance from India?"

The answer followed a line later: "With its presentation of the Uday Shankar India Culture Centre Dance Company from Calcutta, the festival acknowledged not just the fact that the influence of American modern dance has spread throughout the world, but that each culture has its own way of reaching beyond the traditional. It was an acknowledgment that was greeted by cheers and a standing ovation from the opening night audience as curtain calls were taken by the (Indian dance) company .... " More curtain calls, more cheers followed on subsequent nights as the American Dance Festival (ADF)-the pivotal institution of modern dance in America-cele-

•.

,r,',

Director Charles and Associate Director Stephanie Reinhart (center) with volunteers at an American Dance Festival celebration.

brated its golden anniversary with international participation. Companies from the Philippines, France, England and Indonesia also performed during the six-week summer festival at Durham, North Carolina, last year. India contributed the only two individual performers at the festival-Astad Deboo (see story on page 46) and Bharat Sharma.

The anniversary program also offered a window on modern American dance, highlighted by four "Golden Commissions" of $40,000 each to modern-dance standard bearers Merce Cunningham, Twyla Tharp, Alwin Nikolais and the Pilobolus Dance Theater. Their specially commissioned dances were a tribute to the role played by ADF in the evolution of modern dance in the United States.

The 50 years of the American Dance Festival are an important part of the history of the American modern-dance movement.

When the company-then called the Bennington School of Dance-began five decades ago, modern dance was nonexistent in most parts of the country, and either ignored or scorned in others. The company made modern dance into a movement, setting the trailblazers on their wayMartha Graham, Hanya Holm, Doris Humphrey, Charles Weidman.

ADF is today regarded as the preeminent institution for the training, experimentation and creation of modern dance in the United States. The Duke University campus at Durham-ADF's present home-comes alive with Classes, workshops, special programs and performances for six weeks each summer.

"When historians of the future look back on this age, they will focus on American modern dance and call it one of the greatest artistic explosions ever to happen in the history of mankind," says Charles Reinhart, ADF's director and president. Reinhart considers himself lucky to be part of that creative explosion.

"Each period in our civilization usually has a specific art form which achieves great heights," he says. "The last century was a tremendous time for music. This is the century for creating our heritage in dance for our geniuses to be alive. Irs as if a Mozart, a Shakespeare, a Chekhov and a Bach were all alive and working at the same time."

Nowhere is the creativity of modern dance more evident than at ADF. The American Dance Festival began in 1934 when a group of choreographers and dancers moved summer headquarters from New York City to the wooded hills of Bennington, Vermont. They were the second generation of modern dance pioneers, the successors of Isadora Duncan, Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn, determined to create new dances of pure movement.

Theirs was a revolution against the pictorial representations of classical ballet, the formal structure of its footwear and the constraints of its traditional costumes, sets and plots.

Charles Weidman, one of the pioneers at Bennington, says it was a difficult step to take.

"The great dancer of that time was Anna Pavlova. And to revolt against such an impressive beauty as Pavlova was painful.

However, take Pavlova's famous 'Dying Swan' - in that she was a bird. Another lovely solo was 'California Poppy.' She was a flower. In 'Dragonfly' she was an insect.

Anything but a human being. So we said, 'We are going to dance as man and woman in America today.'"

Individualism and the theme of exploration were the ingredients of this new art form.

The Festival became school, laboratory and stage for just about every new technique and 'movement in dance.

Charles Reinhart, director of ADF for 15years, has been a leading dance administrator for more than two decades. Among the talents he has recognized and nurtured are Paul Taylor, Glen Tetley, Twyla Tharp and Meredith Monk.

"We are committed to one thingtalent," Reinhart says. "We give our artists free choice. We exercise no control over them. We are willing to take risks."

Reinhart attributes the popularization of modern dance to the social revolution of the 1960s. "The focal point of modern dance is the body, and audiences found that shocking.

Miniskirts began to say the body's fine. With the change in social dancing from the fox trot to the rock and roll, everyone became a choreographer. Add to that the creative philosophy and outpouring of choreographers like Graham, Taylor, Tharp and Cunningham, and you have the ingredients of a golden age."

ADF can take some pride and credit for that golden age. More than 300 works have premiered at the Festival. The world's greatest dance companies perform here. The Festival's alumni list is a Who's Who of modern dance. New productions, new directions and new choreographers emerge constantly. Many of the works commissioned by ADF are now modern dance classics.

Five "arms" of ADF support its activities-the school where classes are held in dance techniques and related topics such as body therapy and dance medicine; professional workshops for dance critics, television directors, choreographers and composers; regular programs of performances by established and emerging talents; media productions which enable choreographers to become familiar with the technology of television so that live performances can be created especially for TV; and comm unity services in the form of dance demonstratjons and discussions which aim at showing, in the words of Stephanie Reinhart (Charles' wife and associate director of ADF), "the significance of dance in culture and the beliefs, values and customs from which the dances emerge."

Every aspect of ADF's functioning is of great significance for the evolution of modern dance. The school, says Mrs. Reinhart, enables "students to come and sit at the feet of the masters, and dance teachers to be. around the creators." Dance critics and

Who's afraid of computers?

Workers-for fear of losing their jobs? Relax, say statistics of the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.

Projections for the next decade indicate less unemployment, not more. There will be changes in the nature of jobs. More. computers may mean automation of certain jobs but they will create other jobs-computer maintenance, programming, designing and manufacturing. There will be many openings in the service industry-more secretaries, health workers, clerks, sales people.

Wadhwani's Merlin and Other Robots An India-born American has made international headlines for his successful sales of robots to Japan. It may be like carrying coals to Newcastle, says Romesh Wadhwani, but it sure proves that his company-American Robotmakes some of the world's best robots. Wadhwani's robot, Merlin, is for industrial use. But several companies and researchers are turning their skills to making robots for the home. In the nottoo-distant future, robots may scrub toilets, wash windows, mow the lawns, fetch your slippers and talk and sing.

Huckleberry Finn: A Century Later When Norman Mailer read Huckleberry Finn as an ll-year-old, he was "disappointed." Reading Mark Twain's novel again a hundred years after it was published, he finds it surprisingly "up-to-date" and is "alternately delighted, surprised, annoyed, competitive, critical and finally excited."

Jesse Honey, Mountain

Guide

Crossing the western American mountains, Hardesty Marratta never wanted a guide. But Jesse Honey just fell into his lap, breaking a few of Marratta's bones in the process. From then on, poor Marratta's travels became an endless series of travails masterminded by the guide who knew it all wrong. A tale in the Mark Twain tradition by one of America's best contemporary short story writers, Mark Helprin.

To: SPAN Magazine Subscription Service Post Box 213 New Delhi 110001

SPAN ORD~R FORM

Please send the next 12 issues of SPAN for Rs. 25 to: Name (Mr./Ms.) Address Pin Code

II I I I I I

I enclose payment of Rs. 25 in favor of SPAN magazine by "NC Payee" 0 Bank Draft 0 Postal Order 0 Money Order (receipt enclosed)

0 Cheque

(Add RS.4 on outstation

Date

cheque,

please)

Signature

PLEASEREMEMBERTO ENCLOSE YOUR REMITTANCE

SP-23

When notifying SPAN about a change in your address, please attach the address label from a recent SPAN envelope in addition to filling out the form below. Since four to six weeks are needed to process a change of address, please let us know about any change promptly.

CHANGE OF ADDRESS FORM NEW ADDRESS (USE BLOCK LETTERS) Name

_

Present Position/Designation Address

_ _

MAIL TO: Circulation Manager, SPAN 24 Kasturba Gandhi Marg, New Delhi 110001

PROGRAM SCHEDULE SUNDAY THROUGH SATURDAY

Language

Time (1ST)

English

0630-0930

ShortWave: 13.9.16.9,19.7, 25.6, 30.8, 41.7, 42.1 Short Wave: 19.5.19.7,30.7, 30.9.31.1.42.1,42.2,4$.1 Medium Wave: 190 Short Wave: 25.4, 31.1. 42.2, 49.8 Short Wave: 13.9. 16.9, 19.8 Short Wave: 25.4, 31.0,41.2, 48.9 Short Wave: 25.4, 31.0, 31.1, 49.6 Short Wave: 19.4, 25.3. 31.0.

41.6 Short Wave: 13.9, 16.9, 19.8 Short Wave: 19.8, 25.1, 31.4, 41.5

Medium Wave: 190

journalists are invited for workshops that "immerse them in dance." Since shooting dance is one of the most difficult kinds of filmingfor television, TV directors are given the opportunity to experiment and learn at ADF conferences and workshops. And, of course, new dances are being created all the time. ADF sometimes commissions as many as 12works in a year, giving as much emphasis on commissioning music as it does on dance.

"That is why most compositions for dance as well as ballet are coming from modern dance and not ballet," says Stephanie Reinhart.

"Ballet tends to choreograph to established works."

Bharat Sharma conducts a dance workshop at Durham, North Carolina, for In its attempt to create a better understanding of dance, the Festival has spon- the American Dance Festival. sored several humanities-and-dance programs combining panel discussions with Touring India in the late 1920s she and her dance demonstrations. "We've brought in husband, Ted Shawn, both influenced and were influenced by Indian concepts of movescholars from the different humanitiesment. "She did a series of dances based on anthropology, literature, philosophy-to her understanding of Indian themes-on focus on dance as a window of culture."

Even though modern dance is basically an Indian ragas and on yoga."

Uday Shankar, adds Reinhart, was a indigenous American art form, it has been shaped by several influences. "These in- major Indian influence on modern dance in fluences are extremely important. Our stu- America. Credited with being instrumental in dents and choreographers should not only reviving dance in India in the 1930sand 1940s, know about them but should also under- Uday Shankar was the creator of works that stand them kinesthetically by assimilat- were Indian and yet of international artistic ing, say, Indian classical dance or African significance.

"He also influenced the West and was dance."

A few years ago, ADF invited Balasaras- influenced by it," says Reinhart. "It's one of wathi to perform in the United States. The those beautiful cycles, and it's not important well-known Bharatnatyam dancer, says who did what to whom."

During their international dance search, Reinhart, is among "the classical ones who stay classiCal... we are using' her as a re- the Reinharts went to Calcutta and watched one of Uday Shankar's early works being source for American modern dance."

ADF is now championing the interna- performed.

After seeing it the Reinharts decided that tional aspect of modern dance. During his visit to India, Reinhart said, "Not only is "not to have Uday Shankar represented in modern dance being performed around the some way or the other for our international world, but it is being created around the festival would not be right." The Uday world. The excitement which surrounds this Shankar troupe, now headed by the maestro's basically American art form is equivalent to widow, Amala, performed nine composibeing around when Bharatnatyam was being tions.

The Reinharts' choice was applauded by discovered and created in India. Because of enthusiastic audiences and critics at the inautoday's efficient communication systems, gural ceremony in Durham. "Thrilling, excelmodern dance has become infectious and lent, amazing, sheer virtuosity, extracaught on worldwide."

In preparation for ADF's anniversary ordinary, beautiful ... " these were some of celebrations, Charles and Stephanie Rein- the compliments showered on the Indian hart conducted an international talent search, troupe by American critics.

They raved about the dances, the music, looking for companies that could be part of the grand celebration-the world) first Inter- the costumes, and about how the compositions "put East and West together in surprisnational Modern Dance Festival at Durham.

High on their list were countries like India ing elegance." The' Festival's solo performers, whose dance traditions had an impact on the Bharat Sharma and Astad Deboo, also drew accolades from the press and the public. early pioneers of modern dance in America.

"Ruth St. Denis, for example, was a Bharat Sharma, said The New York Times, "is superb Oriental dancer," says Reinhart. a perfect example of what the Festival is trying

tr~~. to do ... to reveal the international influence of American modern dance .... Infused with an Indian sensibility, his dances are part of the modern dance sensibility as well."

Sharma's teachers have included his father, noted choreographer Narendra Sharma, the Chhau guru Krishna Chandra Naik and Kathakali maestro Sadanam Balakrishnan in India; and Hanya Holm, Alwin Nikolais and Murray Louis in America. He was a student at Jacob's Pillow Dance Festival in Massachusetts and has danced with Claudia Gittleman's Dance Company in New York.

He has toured with his father's company, the Bhoomika Dance Theatre, in a number of countries.

At ADF last year, apart from presenting his own dances, Sharma spent three weeks attending classes, discussions, workshopsand, of course, seeing the works of dancers from all over the world.

The Durham Sun critic saw in Sharma's and Deboo's performances "dance highly flavored with ancient Indian movements and a sense of exploration of modern dance territory. " Reviewing the Uday Shankar troupe's performance a critic commented that many in the audience would probably wonder why the dances were labeled "modern." "Arms stretching and circling gracefully toward blue skies overhead, the young dancers remain forever poised, demure and elegant. No wild leaps in the clover, no pre}zel twists of torsos, arms and legs. Just the simple, disciplined beauty of India. But a modern India .... If they look closely what audiences will discover in the performances of the Indians and Indonesians is the pioneering spirit of modern dance. Dance and movement pushing beyond tradition-in these cases, a very strong tradition."

Charles Reinhart had an interesting comment to offer on the comparison ofIndian and American modern dance. "I think if I were an Indian, I would look at modern American (Text continued on page 47)

Solo Creations

The stage is dark, silent. An amorphous shape unwinds, then explodes in frenzy: The audience responds. Again, darkness. This time, huge geometricframes litter the stage. A solitary figure explores each frarne, dancing inside, outside and around it. Then a change in mood: A man moves between two opposing postures, one Shiva-like, thundering and fierce; the other cowering and oppressed.

These are the creations of one of the rarest of Indian artists-male solo modern dancer' Astad Deboo, who enthralled and surprised . the audience with his performance at the 50th

anniversary celebration of the American Dance Festival in Durham, North Carolina, last year.

Astad uses everything at his disposal to get his message across: eyes, nose, mouth and body ..Somehow he manages to combine the rigors of Kathakali, one of India's oldest dance forms, with the language of a supple and elastic body. His costume may be the classic leotard or the Indian langot. His choreography combines touches oflndian dance mudras, or hand gestures, with the fluidity of modern dance movement. A l<athakali-style turn of his head reveals an expressive face dominated by two dancing eyebrows and a Parsi hooked nose. : As a youngster from Navsari, in western India, his Parsi parents enrolled him in a school for Kathak, a traditional North Indian dance form. One of the few male students there, Astad was fascinated by the whole domain of dance, and the use of the human body as a means of expression.

Inspired by a performance of the Murray

Louis Dance Company in Bombay, Astad turned his back on eight years of Kathak training. "The restrictions of the Indian classical dance form did not allow me to choreograph contemporary themes. That's basically what drove me to modern dance. The canvas -, was so wide."

He grabbed his backpack, hopped a cargo vessel out of Bombay bound for Iran, and hitchhiked through Central Asia and Europe.

He reached England, then the United States, and completed the circuit through the Far Ea~.

I Astad was away from India for eight years" performing, studying, absorbing. His style today is a result of close encounters with severai internationally acclaimed schools of modern dance: London School of Contemporary Dance, where he studied the Martha.

Graham technique; Wuppertal Dance Theater, under the direction of Pina Bausch, in West Germany; Jose Limon in New York,. and Pilobolus Dance Theater in Connecti-' cut. Over the years, he has gleaned the best from traditional dance forms as well: the Noh and Kabuki theaters of Japan, and the Samul Nori group in Korea. Back in India, he turned again to his classical roots. This time, Katha-

kali. "I switched to Kathakali because its facial expression is very intricate and powerful. There is mime in all Indian classical dance. But Kathakali has a dramatic essence that is larger than life.

"Indian classical dance involves the face, the fingers, the shoulders, the eyebrows," he , explains. "In contemporary dance, the face is expressionless, placid. A troupe of performers creates aesthetic geometry with the body."

Astad has evolved his own language for self-expression, a blend of all he has experienced and learned about dance. This fusion, he says, seems to communicate better. Fusion of .jazz, Kathakali mime, contemporary symphony orchestra, Hindi film songs and even break dancing are part of Astad's repertoire.

He is never satisfied, always searching and experimenting. .

His Indian. roots have given him one great advantage: "Stamina. People are amazed tliat I dance-modern dance-for 90 minutes. No Western classical ballet artist dances that long. The stamina is just not there. Indian classical training is very rigorous."

Astad spends about half of every year on marathon dance tours. He has performed in 50 cities on five continents, and has achieved more notice abroad than at home.

"My contemporary dancing is really put to the test in Europe or in America, or even in Japan or Korea where they have been exposed to mode,rn dance," he says. "At the American Dance Festival, I attended workshops and performed with modern dance troupes from all over. And that was exciting, to be with dancers from all over the world and to present my own work. To share, and to know what dancers around the world are 0 doing."

Amala Shankar (center) and members of the Uday Shankar Culture Centre in" Homage. "Dedicated to Uday Shankar, this was among the dances performed at the inauguration of AD F'sgolden jubilee festival.

dance and think, 'My goodness, there's a lot of speed in those dancers. And two, there's no story line. And three, there's no religious connotation in most of the things I'm seeing.'"

Performances by other dancers from India and from the Philippines, France, England and Indonesia offered interesting glimpses of their concepts of modern dance-and of their cultures. As The New York Times said, "This cross-cultural experiment may turn out to be as enlightening for Americans as the other way round."

The Festival also showed Americans, said Reinhart, "what has happened to our original art form, when its seeds have been planted and taken root elsewhere." For ADF there is some satisfaction in knowing that they have had a role to play in that "planting" -and in the implanting of some international influences in American dance.

Once referred to as a raucous gathering of the barefoot clans, the American Dance Festival has now raised the curtain on the next half-century of modern dance.

0 About the Author: Kayleen Polichetti is a freelance writer currently living in New Delhi. She has worked as a magazine and newspaper editor and writer in Bangkok and Hong Kong. She has also written scripts and features for the Voice of America.

duction support, procurement, processing, marketing, disbursement of profits to the members. They have bigger plans afoot, including construction of storage facilities and increase in membership. Other cooperatives are either at take-off point or midway on the path to completion.

Has the vast expansion of the project led to its getting bogged down by red tape and, worse, corruption?

"When a project becomes vast, there is a difficulty in monitoring quality and ensuring efficiency," says Carter. "There can be abuse of any system. But NDDB has various ways to promote efficiency and ensure integrity in its multifaceted operations.

"First of all, "India's National each unit is strengDairy thened by people trained by NDDB Development and they are, reBoard is one of markably, people the finest in the not only of ability world when but also of excepit comes to tional character and orgamzmg integrity . You must see that NDDB cooperatives. " -Tom Carter doesn't pay fancy salaries so it really attracts and retains people who get a tremendous satisfaction from doing something that is so important to the country.

"Secondly, a number of systems have been introduced to ensure financial discipline.

Normally a village cooperative in India is audited everyone to two years. But most of the NDDB cooperatives are audited every quarter and never by the same person.

"But perhaps the most effective check lies in the fact that the farmers themselves own the cooperatives so they won't allow any abuse. They have the power of the ballot to remove officials of the managing committees they don't trust.

"A person must be a local resident of the area in order to be a managing committee member of a dairy or oilseed cooperative.

He or she must do a certain amount of stipulated business with the cooperatives.

No one who does any business that competes with the society can hold office. Such checks ensure that no outsiders can come and control the cooperative."

As far as funding is concerned, the attempt is to make each unit self-

supporting. NDDB gives loans and grants to the federations. To ensure a continuous flow of funds, a portion of the surplus does not go back to the farmer directly but gets converted into shares in his name.

NDDB does not give loans to the farmers but, says Carter, "it does help process farmers' . applications to other agencies that give loans. Federation field staff collect the applications from the farmers and follow up with the people responsible for credit in other agencies to ensure that they are processed on time."

Since agriculture is a state subject in India, interaction with the government is essential. NDDB will not make a loan to the federation unless it has been guaranteed by the state government. "Right now the Gujarat government has guaranteed more than Rs. 50 crore in loans to the state federation.

Once they do that they have a vested interest in the success of the project," says Carter.

Prices too are an important index of the project's success. "In Gujarat the average price that the farmer got per ton of groundnut before the project was Rs. 2,000-2,500.

Today it's well over Rs. 5,000," says Carter.

"In areas where the project operates, the price is higher in villages with cooperatives as compared to villages where there are none. In 1981-82 the difference averaged 22 percent."

NDDB's restructuring the ground nut economy has not only forced the private traders to pay more for the farmer's produce, but has also stabilized the price to the consumer.

Another major achievement of the project has been to increase the groundnut acreage. In Gujarat, where the acreage had remained stagnant at around 16.7 lakh hectares from 1974 to 1977, it increased to about 21 lakh hectares in the period between 1979 and 1983. In Maharashtra, where the project is yet to begin, groundnut acreage declined by about 18 percent over the corresponding period.

In Gujarat-which really is the scheme's showcase-the remunerative prices have not only helped increase acreage but have also led farmers to invest more in modern inputs and services. As a result yields are better in terms of quantity and quality.

Average groundnut yields, which often fell as low as 200 or 300 kg per hectare, haven't gone below 450 kg in the past few years.

There has been a significant increase in the yields for rapeseed and mustard too.

CLUSA's role in this success story, says Carter, is limited to donation of the vegetable oil, coordination between NDDB and U.S. Government agencies and occasionally

bringing American experts to India and sending Indian experts to America. "We have nothing to do with the setting up of the cooperatives. NDDB is one of the finest in the world when it comes to organizing cooperatives. We can learn from them rather than vice versa," says Carter.

Carter has been with CLUSA in India since 1982 but this isn't his first stint in India. He was here in the early 1960s as a philosophy student at Nagpur University (on a Rotary Foundation fellowship). "I liked India more than philosophy," he says.

So he returned as a Peace Corps volunteer in the early 1970s in Kerala.

Back in the United States, he joined the Credit Union National Association-a financial cooperative-"because they had a job available." And soon he became an ardent convert and a believer in cooperatives. He and his wife (who hails from Jabalpur) were both eager to come back to India, so when CLUSA had an opening here he signed on. He recalls that he had heard of Amul and Kurien when he was in India in the early 1960s. "I even made a few plans to go to Anand because I was impressed by what I had read about the dairy project."

But he never did make it there then.

Though the oilseeds project predated his arrival here, Carter is now in the thick of it. .. neck deep in paper, if not oil. "Each ton of oil is five drums of oil. I suspect that we have one piece of paper for each drum of oil. Till date we've gifted some 600,000 drums of oil!"

The NDDB projects aren't CLUSA's only success stories in India. Before that CLUSA has had tie-ups with the Central Cottage Industries Emporium, the Mehrauli Project and the Indian Farmers and Fertilizers Cooperative (IFFCO).

Though CLUSA's input in these and other projects contributed to their success, Carter is quick to point out that it's been a two-way relationship. The Indian cooperative movement, he says, may lack resources, but not ideas. Supported by the Indian Government, it has been in the forefront of several innovations in the cooperative field.

Some of these, says Carter, have been useful to CLUSA projects in the United States and elsewhere. CLUSA's first representative in India, Allie C. Felder, defined the agency's role in this country as "student first, and then a consultant."

"This," says Carter, "continues to be 0 CLUSA's philosophy in India."

About the Author: Ervell Menezes is deputy news editor and film critic for The Indian Express, Bombay.

Washington's Monument Stands Tall Last May the Washington Monument, the highest marble obelisk in the New World, completed its lOOth birthday; its construction took almost as long, from the birth of the idea to final reality.

This 169-meter high structure, which was designed by architect Robert Mills, is a tribute to the glory of George Washington's vision of America.

Though Mark Twain once referred to it as "a factory chimney," the Washington Monument is today one of the most popular sights in the U.S. capital. Tourists, picnickers and children flock to the vast open spaces at its base to frolic and also to share in a national heritage.