PARIS DOINGS

Yesterday, after preparing a simple dinner of quail and caramelized zucchini, I took Susie to an early music concert by The King’s Consort at the Musée d’Orsay.  The Musée d’Orsay started life as a train station, and in its present incarnation it is a splendid space, vaulting and dramatic.  The concert, held in the auditorium, was a performance of a little-known work by Vivaldi, la Senna festeggiante.  This lovely work, splendidly performed, features a soprano, who sings the part of The Golden Age, a mezzo, who sings the part of Virtue, and a bass, who sings the part of the river Seine.  No kidding, “La Senna” is the Seine.  A French translation of the Italian text was projected on the wall behind the performers, making it possible for me to follow along.  The text is, I thought, uproariously funny.  It is an over the top sycophantic celebration and praising of the martial courage, generosity, magnificence, virtue, and general wonderfulness of Louis XV of France, who was at the time all of sixteen!  Louis, of course, managed to get through his kingship without losing his head, but his son was not so lucky.

This morning at 6:30 a.m., I decided to try a different walk – this time up rue la Montagne Ste. Genevieve, into rue Descartes, then down rue Mouffetard to the bottom of the hill, and finally up Avenue des Gobelins in the 13^th to Place d’Italie, around Place d’Italie, and then home again the same way.  At least that was the plan.  But Place d’Italie is a large circle like the hub of a wheel, with avenues and boulevards emanating like spokes of the wheel.  I did not come far enough around the Place to get all the way back to avenue des Gobelins, with the result that I took off vigorously in the wrong direction and got royally lost.  I wandered a bit trying to find my way back to avenue des Gobelins, without succeeding.  I did manage to stumble on Place Louis Armstrong, in the middle of which was a big fat rabbit.  Eventually I found myself at the Seine next to the Jardin des Plantes, an old stamping ground for Susie and me, and from there it was pretty clear sailing home.  All in all, a great way to get the day started.

REPORT FROM PARIS

Paris is cold and rainy.  Parisians are very out of sorts with the weather, calling it “October weather.”  Unfortunately, Susie and I packed for late spring and early summer, so we have been scrambling to pull out the winter clothes we have stored here.  When I took my early morning walk this morning, a model in a strapless wedding dress was leaning against the railing on the little bridge leading to Nôtre Dame on the Île de la Cité, being photographed.  She must have been frozen!

The television doesn’t work, because I need a ten digit client number and a four digit code, and the number and code I have don’t work.  Is it just me?

Yesterday, a man shot himself to death on the altar of Nôtre Dame as a political protest.  The newspapers today identify him as Dominique Venner, a 78 year old veteran of the paratroopers in the Algerian War and an intellectual of the extreme right, well-known in those circles.  Needless to say, shooting yourself on the altar of Nôtre Dame is considered a no-no even among the notoriously secular French.  This is the 850’th anniversary of the construction of the cathedral [which took well over a century to build, so I am not are how they count the years], a big tourist draw.

Every country, it seems, has its characteristic right-wing extremists.  They are alike in their belief that the world they knew is disappearing and being taken over by barbarians, although they differ in the precise way in which they think the world going to hell in a handbasket .  In France, the focal point of this sentiment is the loss of the Algerian War and the influx of North Africans, which is to say Muslims.  However, the trigger for Venner’s act of extreme protest was the new law, just now going into effect, that legalizes same-sex marriage.  Although this is now the law of the land, there is a large backlash, and this Sunday a big “manifestation,” or demonstration is planned in Paris in protest. 

I shall report on it next week.

A simple meal this evening of dorade royale [fish], leeks, and mushrooms.

 

J'ARRIVE

We are here in Paris, after an exhausting but uneventful trip, during which I read John Grisham's novel, THE BRETHREN.  He has a deliciously mordant view of the law.  Paris is cold and rainy, and apparently has been for weeks.  Sigh.

I took my long walk this morning early, in a fortunate one hour gap between rain drops.  I shall report on local developments as soon as I get settled.

a bientot.

SIGNS OF THINGS TO COME

I have now finished work on the second volume of my collected essays, although we are still awaiting some permissions from journals.   This volume will be devoted to published and unpublished essays dealing with the economic theories of Marx and the Classical Political Economists.  The centerpiece of the volume is my essay, "A Critique and Reinterpretation of Marx's Labor Theory of Value."  After I published it, two really, really smart Marxist economists, both super math whizzes, published critiques of what I had done, and in each case I responded in print.  Both of them, John Roemer and David Schweickart, have agreed to let me reprint their critiques, so the volume will feature a little debate.   I am delighted to be able to include their work, and it was also fun getting back in touch with them.  I have learned a great deal from both of them.

Tomorrow, Susie and I fly off to Paris for six weeks, where I shall again be blogging about such arcane subjects as the proper recipe for boeuf bourguignonne.  It will be a relief to flee from the screwed-up problems of this country and spend six weeks reading about the screwed-up problems of someone else's country.  While I am in Paris, I hope to tackle volumes three [Political Theory and Practical Politics] and four [my tutorials, mini-tutorials, micro-tutorials, and appreciations.]

DISMAY

For the past ten days, I have been deeply involved in preparing a series of volumes of my collected papers for e-publication, while also taking care of an endless series of chores attendant upon getting ready for a six week trip to Paris.  But it has been impossible to ignore the appalling incompetence of the Obama White House response to the series of flaps and genuine scandals that have broken over its walls like a tsunami.  The Benghazi matter is no scandal at all, and the attempts by the Republicans to blacken Hillary Clinton's name three and a half years before she obliterates them in the 2016 presidential election will fail.  But the political slant of the IRS investigations of 501(c)(4) applications and the sweeping searches of the phone records of AP reporters are genuine scandals, violating the most fundamental constitutional protections.  Neither of them is exactly surprising, of course.  The Federal Government has been using its power to intimidate, harass, investigate, and prosecute citizens for their legitimate political actions since roughly forever.  The only oddity in the current IRS misbehavior is that, uncharacteristically, it has apparently been directed against those on the right rather than against those on the left.

In the face of these matters, the White House, which is to say the president, has been so feckless and ineffective as to be guilty of genuine malpractice.  All of this I find utterly incomprehensible.  Obama twice ran the best presidential political campaigns of modern times, exhibiting a level of efficiency, intelligence, and ruthless concentration that was truly unprecedented.  How the very same man can manage to handle routine political flaps so badly is a mystery to me.

SOCIAL NOTES FROM THE GALAXY

I do not customarily attend to the news from the social pages, but certain events simply demand that notice be taken.  I have just learned that Captain Picard of the Enterprise will be married, and the ceremony will be presided over by Gandalf.  The reports did not indicate whether Counselor Troi would offer prenuptial advice, or whether Frodo would be the ring bearer.

Those who are sticklers for the literary formalities will of course protest that Captain Picard and Gandalf inhabit two entirely different fictional worlds, and can therefore no more meet than can Phineas Fogg and Sherlock Holmes, or Samuel Pickwick and the aging Elizabeth Bennett.  But it really is true, apparently, that Patrick Stewart will marry his long time partner, and Ian McKellan will officiate.  One of the charming quirks of Massachusetts is that anybody can preside over a marriage, just once, simply by applying for permission -- no clerical collar required.  I know because one of my sons did precisely that.

These are dark days for those of a progressive bent, and I think we need any little emotional lift we can come by.  I for one will lift a glass in silent toast to the happy couple this evening.

PROGRESS

Today, I finished proofreading Volume I of my collected papers.  This volume contains my writings on Hume and Kant and on higher education, including education i South Africa.  It will be available on Amazon as soon as we get the permissions, which as usual are slow in coming.

Tomorrow, I will start Volume II, my writings on Marx and Classical Political Economy.

The volume containing the Use and Abuse of Formal Methods in Political Economy, and a series of applications, is done but is awaiting a cover.

All in all, there will be six volumes of material, including my Memoir, some of it never before seen by anyone but me.

This is a very large project, but I rather suspect it may be completed by the end of the summer.  Then I will have to find something to occupy myself with.

Any suggestions?