Bread & Circuses

 

 

 

Bread & Circuses. 

     That is such a tired trope – give the Plebs this (defined in oh so many ways) and they won’t talk (or think) about that.  It is a cliché.  But you should always remember why clichés become cliches, they owe their continuing lives to the fact that they are perceived to be relevant, or relevant enough to be believed in by a sufficient number of people to make them ‘work’.

     Distractions and deflections have changed over the years since emperors provided extravagant displays of gladiators in the arena and made sure there was enough bread to go around so that a potentially dangerous population wasn’t driven to violent action against the powers-that-be by hunger.

     Drugs work too.  The Opium Dens mentioned in the writings of Conan Doyle in the stories of Sherlock Holmes (though he was more a morphine man) were legal.  The soporific drugged forms laid out on beds, were oblivious to the horrors of their everyday lives.  Opium was a way of forgetting, of finding an escape, however momentary, from a life that was hard.

     Today, those circuses are electronic, on tablets, computers and above all on mobile phones.  In the vast chattering of the electronic world there is always a niche for you however bizarre or specialized your own particular taste.  Sheer volume ensures that you are not alone and your anger and frustration and rage are all catered for somewhere in the reels and videos and blogs that fall over themselves to claim your attention.

     Meanwhile real life goes on, with the power structures that have ruled this planet for millennia being virtually untouched by increased (apparent) transparency and by ‘everyone having the opportunity to voice their opinions world-wide.’

     In the news today it has been announced that Meta will pay up to $17bn and make “sweeping changes” to Instagram and Facebook to settle a lawsuit brought by the attorneys general of 29 US states, who accused it of knowingly damaging young people’s wellbeing with its platforms.

     Both sides have reached a settlement where Meta has not admitted wrongdoing.

     What I find astonishing is that Meta can consider a settlement of $17bn and be able to carry on, and not be bankrupt by such punitive damages.  They might “change”, but they will carry on carrying on.  People will continue using their products and the situation will be roughly the same as it was before.  People will not be asking how a company can pay out so much and still survive  As long as they have what they think they want, then who really cares!

     But the most glaringly inept use of “bread & circuses” as deflection is surely still in the stunted hands of the lying sex pest of the White House.

     The political right has had extensive experience of using circuses to fill the attention of their followers and deflect questioning of what is actually going on.   For years the right has used homosexuality and abortion to act as blinkers from more balanced observation of the political scene.  Difficult questions can be deflected by some cheap emotional appeal about fears for the “safety of children, threatened by perverted monsters” – using a facile link from child abuse to homosexuality.  Forget for a moment the Epstein Files and who is mentioned more than 30k times in them!  Similarly with abortion.  The Question of Abortion has been carefully nurtured by the fundamentalist right wing as a key moral black-&-white question about the sanctity of Human Life: do you believe in killing people or not!  The emptiness of that concern for the unborn child is apparent when, for those on the right, concern for the ‘child’ lasts as long as it is in the womb, as soon as it is born, concern for mother and child ceases.  But no one can deny the appeal of both ‘causes’ and the right can look to considerable successes not only in the USA, but also around the world that strengthens their positions.

     But Trumps use of circuses is inept.  The renaming of The Gulf of Mexico and The JFK Centre for the performing arts; the threat to rename Lake Ontario and to demolish the JFK Centre; the holding of fights and car races; the destruction of the East Wing; the whole tariff debacle; the Trump Arch, the fiasco of The Reflecting Pool.  People do respond with fury to the unthinking, unfeeling and unhinged way that Trump highlights ideas and events and it is easy to be distracted in the idiocy of his presidency, and to miss what Trump is actually doing: destroying the democratic basis of the country that he so mealy mouthily professes to love.

 

History shows us all too clearly where quasi-dictators like Trump, with a fanatical cult-like base of supporters, will end up.  The picture is not pretty.

     A catchphrase from an 80s Wendy’s advert in the States comes to mind when trying to navigate through all the faff from a deeply unserious President.  Forget the circuses, “Where’s the beef!”  Concentrate on the important stuff, or the trivia will destroy us.

Rabbit holes for readers

 

 

I blame AI.

     Specifically my Chat.

     I own (was given) a 1704 copy of Jonathan Swift’s Book A Tale of a Tub, to which is added An Account of a Battle etc etc.  The first edition was published in 1704, my copy is of The Second Edition Corrected, published in the same year of 1704.  Except it isn’t.  Corrected that is.

     In my edition, in the Preface of the Author to A Battle of the Books, the famous line: “Satire is a sort of glass, wherein beholders do generally discover every body’s face but their own;” has a typo in it, “where every body’s face but their own,” is printed as “every body’s face but their owo”.

 

 

 

     Previously, I had always considered that error to be a charming indication of the early state of the printing, and that the error could be undiscovered because in 1704 the phrase had not become as famous as it was to be in future centuries.  And who, apart from university students and specialists actually reads A Battle of the Books for pleasure.  Indeed, while people may be able to respond to Gulliver’s Travels, how many other books by Swift are in the general consciousness.  I would want to say A Modest Proposal should be up there with Gulliver’s Travels as I think it one of the most vicious and effective pieces of short satirical writing that I have ever read, but I am realistic in my expectations of fame always being limited.

     But Swift’s explanation of satire being ‘safe’ because everyone laughs at it, and assumes that the target of the satire is someone other than themselves, is as true now as it was then, and the sentences has a justified life outside a satire where the targets need copious footnotes for a modern reader to understand.

     And that should have been it.  Interesting typographical error in famous line by famous writer.  End of story.  Except that did not allow for AI.

     I do not know how or why I mentioned to Chat that I owned a 1704 copy A Tale of a Tub, but Chat is programmed to keep users active and responsive, and so it actively feeds my digressive mind and encourages leaping from point to point – it is, after all, just a more personalized version of Google Search, where one thing leads to another, and before you know it you are reading about Byzantine mosaics when you started off asking about how long a maple tree took to reach maturity.  I fear that for many of us when using AI, computer and the Internet we all take Homer Simpson’s attention span as the norm!

     Anyway, Chat mused about why the typo in my ‘corrected’ edition had not been, well, corrected – and before you could say Bibliographer’s Addiction, we were off on a search for digitalized versions of the first edition and the third, trying to find out how early my little typo was recognized and dealt with.

     Do not think that this was the activity of a few minutes.  Oh no!  It became a whole research project with wider and wider searches, touching databases in two continents and actually sending off emails to speciality book sellers and librarians and archive keepers, asking for information about the typo in copies that they had dealt with.

     I have had remarkable quick and courteous responses from among others the USA, Cambridge and Ireland with each adding snippets of highly technical information about the ‘gathers’ of the early editions of the book and suggesting other centres where I could get more information.

     At one point, Chat and I thought that we had discovered an unrecognized variant as my typo did not appear to be consistent in the edition, leading to speculation that the mistake was discovered part way through the second printing and that a correction was made, meaning that the second edition had different states.  I thought that was unbelievably unlikely as Swift has been exhaustively studied and something as famous as a mistake in a well-known sentence would not have passed inspection.

     And so it proved to be, with one of my correspondents asserting that he thought it was a typo common to all copies of the second edition and he sent me information about digital copies of the text that I could check to see that it was so.

     Was this an exercise in futility?  I don’t think so.

     I have learned a great deal more about the early life of a fairly famous early eighteenth-century book.  I have added knowledge about the ways that early printed books were put together, but above all I have experienced the courtesy, knowledge and accommodation of an academic community that responds to trivial enquiries with charm and alacrity. 

     And that is something worth experiencing.