home / subscribe / donate / books / archives / search / links / feedback / events / faq
The New Print Edition of CounterPunch, Only for Our Newsletter Subscribers! Meet the Real John McCain:
North Vietnam's Go-To CollaboratorRead how the Vietnamese protected and promoted McCain and how in return he danced to their tune. McCain was on Vietnamese radio so often he was tagged as "the PW Songbird". SUBSCRIBE NOW to read the true story of Glory Boy McCain, only in our newsletter. Also in this issue: Alexander Cockburn on the final fall of Bill Clinton, lobbyist for torturers. PLUS Serge Halimi on what "free trade" really means when the going gets rough. Get your copy today by subscribing online or calling 1-800-840-3683 Contributions to CounterPunch are tax-deductible. Click here to make a donation. If you find our site useful please: Subscribe Now! CounterPunch books and gear make great holiday presents.Order CounterPunch By Email For Only $35 a Year !
|
Today's Stories May 3 / 4, 2008 Nikolas Kozloff Greg Moses William Blum Robert Fantina Dave Lindorff May 2, 2008 Andrew Cockburn David Isenberg Vijay Prashad William Blum David Macaray Rannie Amiri William James Martin Stephanie Westbrook Linn Washington, Jr. Anthony Papa Website of the Day
May 1, 2008 Michael Hudson Behzad Yaghmaian Wajahat Ali Dedrick Muhammad Cynthia McKinney Corporate Crime Reporter Manuel Garcia, Jr. Reza Fiyouzat Leigh Saavedra Tom Semioli Website of the Day
April 30, 2008 William P. O'Connor Bob Fitrakis / Tariq Ali John Ross Glen Ford Joshua Frank Ashley Smith Robert Weissman Sen. Russ Feingold Website of the Day
April 29, 2008 Uri Avnery Roedad Khan Chris Floyd Paul Craig Roberts Dave Lindorff Mats Svensson Peter Morici Mike Ferner John Weisheit Amit Srivastava Website of the Day April 28, 2008 JoAnn Wypijewski Mike Whitney Iris Keltz Steve Niva David Macaray John Ross Stephen Lendman Malou Innocent Christopher Brauchli William Kaufman Website of the Day April 26 / 27, 2008 Alexander Cockburn Ralph Nader Peter Camejo Harvey Wasserman Franklin Lamb Wajahat Ali Mike Whitney Andrew Wimmer David Yearsley Greg Moses Ron Jacobs Robert Fantina Missy Comley Beattie Linn Cohen-Cole Paul Krassner Jeffrey St. Clair Poets' Basement Website of the Weekend April 25, 2008 George Ciccariello-Maher Dave Lindorff Franklin Lamb Alan Farago John W. Farley Kathleen M. Barry Mohammed Alireza Nick Dearden Carmelo Ruiz Marrero Bruce Springsteen Website of the Day
April 24, 2008 Linn Washington, Jr. Franklin Lamb Jennifer Van Bergen Joanne Mariner Mark Engler Dave Lindorff John Blair De Clarke / Stan Goff Binoy Kampmark Philippe Marlière Peter Morici Website of the Day
Cockburn / St. Clair Vijay Prashad Paul Craig Roberts Stephen Soldz Laura Santina John Stauber / Dave Lindorff George Ciccariello-Maher Ralph Nader John Weisheit Website of the Day April 22, 2008 David Isenberg Stan Cox David Macaray Jeff Birkenstein Mike Whitney Nikolas Kozloff Floyd Rudmin Carlos Villarreal Ray McGovern Michael Gould-Wartofsky Robert Ovetz Pat Wolff Website of the Day
Bill Quigley Uri Avnery Dave Lindorff Wajahat Ali Andy Worthington Robert Jensen Ron Jacobs Dan Bacher Harvey Wasserman Danny Alexander Website of the Day April 19 / 20, 2008 Alexander Cockburn Patrick Cockburn Wajahat Ali Andrew Wimmer Rev. William E. Alberts David Rosen Robert Fantina Ramzy Baroud Saul Landau Dr. Susan Block David Yearsley Phyllis Pollack Jeffrey St. Clair Poets' Basement April 18, 2008 John Ross Dave Lindorff Dan Glazebrook Carl Finamore Rannie Amiri Richard Morse Ko Young-dae Farooq Sulehria
April 17, 2008 Michael Hudson Robert Bryce Kathy Kelly Madis Senner Peter Morici Ron Jacobs William S. Lind James Murren Ben Terrall Walter Brasch Website of the Day
April 16, 2008 Bill Kauffman Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz Saul Landau Peter Morici Eric Toussaint / Jeff Ballinger David Macaray Gary Leupp Richard Morse George Ciccariello-Maher Dave Lindorff Website of
the Day
April 15, 2008 Ralph Nader Uri Avnery Brian Cloughley David Price Joe Bageant Steve Early Mats Svensson Michael Donnelly April Howard / Laray Polk Charles Modiano Website of
the Day
April 14, 2008 Carl Finamore Michael Hudson M. Shahid Alam Patrick Cockburn Paul Craig Roberts Joanne Mariner Martha Rosenberg Dave Lindorff P. Sainath John V. Whitbeck Website of the Day
April 12 / 13, 2008 Alexander Cockburn Patrick Cockburn Mike Whitney David Yearsley Robert Fantina Conn Hallinan Bill Hatch Ramzy Baroud George S. Hishmeh Ron Jacobs Nikolas Kozloff Charles Thomson Alexander Billet Missy Beattie David Michael Green Seth Sandronsky Prairie Miller Jeffrey St.
Clair Poets' Basement Website of
the Weekend
April 11, 2008 Nikolas Kozloff Wajahat Ali Sharon Smith Yigal Bronner
/ Neve Gordon Alan Farago Dave Lindorff George Wuerthner Christopher
Brauchli Website of the Day
April 10, 2008 Mathieu Vernerey Elizabeth Schulte David Macaray Ashley Smith Peter Morici Jacob Hornberger Harold Austin Website of the Day
April 9, 2008 Paul Craig
Roberts Winslow T.
Wheeler C. Hand Paul Krassner Paul Wolf Wajahat Ali Karyn Strickler Dan La Botz Eric Walberg Robin Millenthal Website of the Day April 8, 2008 Mike Whitney Nikolas Kozloff Greg Moses Joshua Frank John Ross Michael Donnelly John V. Walsh Jeff Nygaard Bill Piper Sen. Russ Feingold Website of the Day
April 7, 2008 Ishmael Reed Harry Browne
Uri Avnery Lenni Brenner Ayesha Ijaz Khan Robert Fisk Edwin Krales Chris Genovali Website of the Day
April 5 / 6, 2008 Alexander Cockburn Ramzy Baroud Ralph Nader David Yearsley Saul Landau Paul Craig
Roberts Lawrence Korb / Ian Moss Seth Sandronsky John Ross Robert Fantina David Michael Green Missy Beattie Patrick Bond Dr. Susan Block Phyllis Pollack Adam Engel Jeffrey St. Clair Poets' Basement Website of the Weekend
![]()
![]()
Subscribe Online |
Weekend Edition
May 3 / 4, 2008 The Musical PatriotRodney and Me and the Harpsichord: a Challenge to Jeffrey EugenidesBy DAVID YEARSLEY On an October afternoon in 2005, a little more than a month after I had returned to Ithaca, New York from a two-year sabbatical in Berlin, I lay in my hammock with a copy of the New Yorker. Much to my surprise, the magazine contained a short story by Pulitzer-prize winning novelist Jeffrey Eugenides entitled “Early Music” and featuring that little-known keyboard instrument, the clavichord, as its central prop. More surprising still was my immediate realization that the main character was a fictionalized version of me, a long-time clavichordist: “The eighteenth-century musicians who played [the clavichord] were small. Rodney was big, however—six feet three.” Rodney is also very boring: “early music is rational, mathematical, a little bit stiff, and so was Rodney.” How is it that the clavichord—the quietest of 18th-century keyboard instruments—penetrated the consciousness of a writer whose novels have been concerned with hermaphroditism (Middlesex) and teenage death pacts (The Virgin Suicides)? Though my wife and I generally tried to avoid the American expatriate scene in Berlin we went to a few happenings organized by friends in our neighborhood in Schöneberg, and we soon met Jeff Eugenides, his wife, Karen, and their daughter Georgia, with whom my own daughters sometimes played. The Eugenides had been living in Berlin for five years during which time Jeff finished Middlesex. We often saw them around our neighborhood. On one memorable occasion—at least for me—I ran into Karen at the Schöneberg swimming pool, a wonderful complex built in the 1920s as part of Berlin’s ambitious public bathing program begun some thirty years earlier. There is a café next to the big upstairs pool, and over cappuccino, I launched into a devastating critique for Karen’s benefit of the movie I’d seen the night before, Lost in Translation, which had just arrived in Berlin. My diatribe went something like this: Sofia Coppola writes a part for a woman (played by Scarlett Johansson), who wants herself to be a writer but pathetically does nothing but paint her toenails and prance around in her underwear and try to please men. How is it, I asked, that a female writer/director (Coppola) is feted for producing a movie so profoundly misogynistic that it outdoes even the macho crap of the Hollywood testosterone-toughs, who would later bestow an Academy Award on her for best original screenplay for this exercise pandering? So exercised was I over the undeserved praise the film was getting, that I’d forgotten that Coppola had made a film of Eugenides’ first novel, The Virgin Suicide. Karen casually informed of this the first moment I came up for air several minutes into my screed. But she didn’t seem particularly fazed by my vehemence about the Coppola movie, and she even took the opportunity to provide me with a juicy piece of gossip. I now pass on this tibit with the generosity for which the Musical Patriot is rightly celebrated: she claimed Coppola and Bill Murray, the star of Lost in Translation, had an affair during the filming of the movie. Anyway, our lease ran only for a year and by the spring of 2004 were looking for another apartment in our section of Berlin. We learned that the Eugenides were planning to move back to Chicago (the city where the present of “Early Music” takes place.) There was much to-ing and fro-ing about whether we would indeed sub-let from the Eugenides. The problem was that their apartment was on the main artery through Schöneberg, the Hauptstrasse, with its earth-shaking buses and big trucks, and we expressed our concern about whether our clavichord could even be heard over traffic. In fact, that decision had less to do with the clavichord’s introverted sound than with our own dread of the relentless noise; the clavichord provided a convenient excuse. But Eugenides probably thought us a bit fusty for worrying about the matter on account of the clavichord. I doubt he even knew there was such a thing as clavichord before these discussions took place, and from “Early Music” it seems clear he’d never heard one being played. In any event, expiring leases, the frantic search for new accommodation and ambient noise were the mundane events and considerations that brought the clavichord across the Eugenides’ path. In the summer of 2006, when both my family and the Eugenides happened to be visiting Berlin about a year after the story appeared, I had ice cream with his wife and some other Americans in the shadow of the Schöneberger Rathaus, where JFK said, “Ich bin ein Berliner.” As we paid the bill, I told her I’d read the New Yorker story “with interest.” She blushed slightly and mumbled something about the kitty toys that Rodney’s wife makes in “Early Music.” I didn’t take the details in the story personally, though I suppose I could have done so. While the passing reference to the fictional wife’s sharp chin is hardly meant as a compliment in Eugenides’ story, I consider it one of my real wife’s most lovely features. The brisk 58 degrees at which Rodney keeps his apartment is meant to show his stingy and austere temperament. This detail has to do with the fact that German heating bills are paid in advance and then, if less energy is used in the course of the year, the difference is reimbursed to the tenant. The Eugenides kept the heating cranked up and paid a good deal for it, so we had to pay too much up front and never got the difference back. But the apartment was hardly cold. A Berlin nudist of 1960s vintage lived directly beneath us and kept his apartment at sauna-like levels, thus blessing us with abundant second-hand heat. This petty hassle over the heat elicits one of the better lines in the story: “Bach was like cold weather: it sorted the mind.” Rodney studies Bach “père et fils”. In “Early Music” the temperature of the apartment is a metaphor for the supposed aridity of Bach scholarship. Why the Eugenides paid so much for heat, I don’t know. Perhaps they had gone native during their years in the apartment and paraded around the place stark naked. What I found troubling about the story was not seeing the twisted image of me and my family. That I quite enjoyed. What was most disappointing was how poorly researched the the piece was, consisting of nothing more than tissue of internet searches stitched together with clichés about music in general and early music in specific. The worst thing about all this was that it made me begin to doubt the research on hermaphroditism that undergirds, Middlesex, the novel which got Eugenides the Pulitzer. Was that prize-winning as shoddily cobbled together? Clearly beyond Eugenides’ imits of cultural reference, the clavichord appealed to his authorial sensibilities because it is something out of the ordinary. Fair enough, but why must it is serve as an obsession for the eccentric, the stodgy, the antiquarian, the foolish, and the failed? It seems that only the hopelessly aloof and awkward would devote themselves to such antiques and their music. At one of Rodney’s recitals “the early music [rings out], prim and lurching.” If the audience isn’t dead it soon will be. How different this view is from that of 18th-century writers who embraced the limitless expressive potential the clavichord offered the player, as in the following passage from Jean Paul’s autobiographical novel Hesperus:
But for Eugenides the clavichord lacks all ability to move; it is less musical instrument than algorithm: “rational, mathematical, a little bit stiff.” Oh, Rodney! Oh, Jeff!! If only I could show you that I am indeed a man of sentiment and that the clavichord is not simply a wood and wire calculator on which the emotionally frigid punch in their selfish equations. These and other internal dialogues occupied me that afternoon as I swung in my hammock beneath the autumnal oaks contemplating the meaning of the clavichord and of life — as if there were a difference between the two … After five years in Berlin and a few in Chicago, Jeff and his family have moved to Princeton where he has taken up a position at the university’s creative writing program. I’m going to fire off an email to him now inviting him to come to my next clavichord recital at Cornell. I’ll ask him if he wouldn’t mind reading from his New Yorker story during the concert. Maybe he can then interview me and Rodney together. Or, better, the fictional Rodney and the real me can interview the famed author of “Early Music.” David Yearsley teaches at Cornell University. A long-time contributor to the Anderson Valley Advertiser, he is author of Bach and the Meanings of Counterpoint His latest CD, “All Your Cares Beguile: Songs and Sonatas from Baroque London”, has just been released by Musica Omnia. He can be reached at dgy2@cornell.edu
![]()
|
How the Press Led the US into War ![]() Buy End Times Now! CounterPunch Books of the Crossroads: HOW THE IRISH INVENTED SLANG By Daniel Cassidy AMERICAN BOOK AWARD! ![]() Click Here to Buy! Click Here for Dates & Venues Michael Neumann's Devastating Rebuttal of Alan Dershowitz ![]() Click Here to Buy! Saul Landau's Bush and Botox World with a Foreword by Gore Vidal ![]() Click Here to Order! How They Made a Killing on the War on Terrorism ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() The Occupation by Patrick Cockburn ![]() ![]() ![]() Humanitarian Imperialism By Jean Bricmont ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() CITY BEAUTIFUL By Tennessee Reed ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() |