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THE NEW READERS



OBS CLIQUE NA FOTO PARA AMPLIAR

The New York Times
















July 27, 2008


Literacy Debate: Online, R U Really Reading?





BEREA, Ohio — Books are not Nadia Konyk's thing. Her mother, hoping to entice her, brings them home from the library, but Nadia rarely shows an interest.


Instead, like so many other teenagers, Nadia, 15, is addicted to the Internet. She regularly spends at least six hours a day in front of the computer here in this suburb southwest of Cleveland.


A slender, chatty blonde who wears black-framed plastic glasses, Nadia checks her e-mail and peruses myyearbook.com, a social networking site, reading messages or posting updates on her mood. She searches for music videos on YouTube and logs onto Gaia Online, a role-playing site where members fashion alternate identities as cutesy cartoon characters. But she spends most of her time on quizilla.com or fanfiction.net, reading and commenting on stories written by other users and based on books, television shows or movies.


Her mother, Deborah Konyk, would prefer that Nadia, who gets A's and B's at school, read books for a change. But at this point, Ms. Konyk said, "I'm just pleased that she reads something anymore."


Children like Nadia lie at the heart of a passionate debate about just what it means to read in the digital age. The discussion is playing out among educational policy makers and reading experts around the world, and within groups like the National Council of Teachers of English and the International Reading Association.


As teenagers' scores on standardized reading tests have declined or stagnated, some argue that the hours spent prowling the Internet are the enemy of reading — diminishing literacy, wrecking attention spans and destroying a precious common culture that exists only through the reading of books.


But others say the Internet has created a new kind of reading, one that schools and society should not discount. The Web inspires a teenager like Nadia, who might otherwise spend most of her leisure time watching television, to read and write.


Even accomplished book readers like Zachary Sims, 18, of Old Greenwich, Conn., crave the ability to quickly find different points of view on a subject and converse with others online. Some children with dyslexia or other learning difficulties, like Hunter Gaudet, 16, of Somers, Conn., have found it far more comfortable to search and read online.


At least since the invention of television, critics have warned that electronic media would destroy reading. What is different now, some literacy experts say, is that spending time on the Web, whether it is looking up something on Google or even britneyspears.org, entails some engagement with text.


Setting Expectations


Few who believe in the potential of the Web deny the value of books. But they argue that it is unrealistic to expect all children to read "To Kill a Mockingbird" or "Pride and Prejudice" for fun. And those who prefer staring at a television or mashing buttons on a game console, they say, can still benefit from reading on the Internet. In fact, some literacy experts say that online reading skills will help children fare better when they begin looking for digital-age jobs.


Some Web evangelists say children should be evaluated for their proficiency on the Internet just as they are tested on their print reading comprehension. Starting next year, some countries will participate in new international assessments of digital literacy, but the United States, for now, will not.


Clearly, reading in print and on the Internet are different. On paper, text has a predetermined beginning, middle and end, where readers focus for a sustained period on one author's vision. On the Internet, readers skate through cyberspace at will and, in effect, compose their own beginnings, middles and ends.


Young people "aren't as troubled as some of us older folks are by reading that doesn't go in a line," said Rand J. Spiro, a professor of educational psychology at Michigan State University who is studying reading practices on the Internet. "That's a good thing because the world doesn't go in a line, and the world isn't organized into separate compartments or chapters."


Some traditionalists warn that digital reading is the intellectual equivalent of empty calories. Often, they argue, writers on the Internet employ a cryptic argot that vexes teachers and parents. Zigzagging through a cornucopia of words, pictures, video and sounds, they say, distracts more than strengthens readers. And many youths spend most of their time on the Internet playing games or sending instant messages, activities that involve minimal reading at best.


Last fall the National Endowment for the Arts issued a sobering report linking flat or declining national reading test scores among teenagers with the slump in the proportion of adolescents who said they read for fun.


According to Department of Education data cited in the report, just over a fifth of 17-year-olds said they read almost every day for fun in 2004, down from nearly a third in 1984. Nineteen percent of 17-year-olds said they never or hardly ever read for fun in 2004, up from 9 percent in 1984. (It was unclear whether they thought of what they did on the Internet as "reading.")


"Whatever the benefits of newer electronic media," Dana Gioia, the chairman of the N.E.A., wrote in the report's introduction, "they provide no measurable substitute for the intellectual and personal development initiated and sustained by frequent reading."


Children are clearly spending more time on the Internet. In a study of 2,032 representative 8- to 18-year-olds, the Kaiser Family Foundation found that nearly half used the Internet on a typical day in 2004, up from just under a quarter in 1999. The average time these children spent online on a typical day rose to one hour and 41 minutes in 2004, from 46 minutes in 1999.


The question of how to value different kinds of reading is complicated because people read for many reasons. There is the level required of daily life — to follow the instructions in a manual or to analyze a mortgage contract. Then there is a more sophisticated level that opens the doors to elite education and professions. And, of course, people read for entertainment, as well as for intellectual or emotional rewards.


It is perhaps that final purpose that book champions emphasize the most.


"Learning is not to be found on a printout," David McCullough, the Pulitzer Prize-winning biographer, said in a commencement address at Boston College in May. "It's not on call at the touch of the finger. Learning is acquired mainly from books, and most readily from great books."


What's Best for Nadia?


Deborah Konyk always believed it was essential for Nadia and her 8-year-old sister, Yashca, to read books. She regularly read aloud to the girls and took them to library story hours.


"Reading opens up doors to places that you probably will never get to visit in your lifetime, to cultures, to worlds, to people," Ms. Konyk said.


Ms. Konyk, who took a part-time job at a dollar store chain a year and a half ago, said she did not have much time to read books herself. There are few books in the house. But after Yashca was born, Ms. Konyk spent the baby's nap time reading the Harry Potter novels to Nadia, and she regularly brought home new titles from the library.


Despite these efforts, Nadia never became a big reader. Instead, she became obsessed with Japanese anime cartoons on television and comics like "Sailor Moon." Then, when she was in the sixth grade, the family bought its first computer. When a friend introduced Nadia to fanfiction.net, she turned off the television and started reading online.


Now she regularly reads stories that run as long as 45 Web pages. Many of them have elliptical plots and are sprinkled with spelling and grammatical errors. One of her recent favorites was "My absolutely, perfect normal life ... ARE YOU CRAZY? NOT!," a story based on the anime series "Beyblade."


In one scene the narrator, Aries, hitches a ride with some masked men and one of them pulls a knife on her. "Just then I notice (Like finally) something sharp right in front of me," Aries writes. "I gladly took it just like that until something terrible happen ...."


Nadia said she preferred reading stories online because "you could add your own character and twist it the way you want it to be."


"So like in the book somebody could die," she continued, "but you could make it so that person doesn't die or make it so like somebody else dies who you don't like."


Nadia also writes her own stories. She posted "Dieing Isn't Always Bad," about a girl who comes back to life as half cat, half human, on both fanfiction.net and quizilla.com.


Nadia said she wanted to major in English at college and someday hopes to be published. She does not see a problem with reading few books. "No one's ever said you should read more books to get into college," she said.


The simplest argument for why children should read in their leisure time is that it makes them better readers. According to federal statistics, students who say they read for fun once a day score significantly higher on reading tests than those who say they never do.


Reading skills are also valued by employers. A 2006 survey by the Conference Board, which conducts research for business leaders, found that nearly 90 percent of employers rated "reading comprehension" as "very important" for workers with bachelor's degrees. Department of Education statistics also show that those who score higher on reading tests tend to earn higher incomes.


Critics of reading on the Internet say they see no evidence that increased Web activity improves reading achievement. "What we are losing in this country and presumably around the world is the sustained, focused, linear attention developed by reading," said Mr. Gioia of the N.E.A. "I would believe people who tell me that the Internet develops reading if I did not see such a universal decline in reading ability and reading comprehension on virtually all tests."


Nicholas Carr sounded a similar note in "Is Google Making Us Stupid?" in the current issue of the Atlantic magazine. Warning that the Web was changing the way he — and others — think, he suggested that the effects of Internet reading extended beyond the falling test scores of adolescence. "What the Net seems to be doing is chipping away my capacity for concentration and contemplation," he wrote, confessing that he now found it difficult to read long books.


Literacy specialists are just beginning to investigate how reading on the Internet affects reading skills. A recent study of more than 700 low-income, mostly Hispanic and black sixth through 10th graders in Detroit found that those students read more on the Web than in any other medium, though they also read books. The only kind of reading that related to higher academic performance was frequent novel reading, which predicted better grades in English class and higher overall grade point averages.


Elizabeth Birr Moje, a professor at the University of Michigan who led the study, said novel reading was similar to what schools demand already. But on the Internet, she said, students are developing new reading skills that are neither taught nor evaluated in school.


One early study showed that giving home Internet access to low-income students appeared to improve standardized reading test scores and school grades. "These were kids who would typically not be reading in their free time," said Linda A. Jackson, a psychology professor at Michigan State who led the research. "Once they're on the Internet, they're reading."


Neurological studies show that learning to read changes the brain's circuitry. Scientists speculate that reading on the Internet may also affect the brain's hard wiring in a way that is different from book reading.


"The question is, does it change your brain in some beneficial way?" said Guinevere F. Eden, director of the Center for the Study of Learning at Georgetown University. "The brain is malleable and adapts to its environment. Whatever the pressures are on us to succeed, our brain will try and deal with it."


Some scientists worry that the fractured experience typical of the Internet could rob developing readers of crucial skills. "Reading a book, and taking the time to ruminate and make inferences and engage the imaginational processing, is more cognitively enriching, without doubt, than the short little bits that you might get if you're into the 30-second digital mode," said Ken Pugh, a cognitive neuroscientist at Yale who has studied brain scans of children reading.


But This Is Reading Too


Web proponents believe that strong readers on the Web may eventually surpass those who rely on books. Reading five Web sites, an op-ed article and a blog post or two, experts say, can be more enriching than reading one book.


"It takes a long time to read a 400-page book," said Mr. Spiro of Michigan State. "In a tenth of the time," he said, the Internet allows a reader to "cover a lot more of the topic from different points of view."


Zachary Sims, the Old Greenwich, Conn., teenager, often stays awake until 2 or 3 in the morning reading articles about technology or politics — his current passions — on up to 100 Web sites.


"On the Internet, you can hear from a bunch of people," said Zachary, who will attend Columbia University this fall. "They may not be pedigreed academics. They may be someone in their shed with a conspiracy theory. But you would weigh that."


Though he also likes to read books (earlier this year he finished, and loved, "The Fountainhead" by Ayn Rand), Zachary craves interaction with fellow readers on the Internet. "The Web is more about a conversation," he said. "Books are more one-way."


The kinds of skills Zachary has developed — locating information quickly and accurately, corroborating findings on multiple sites — may seem obvious to heavy Web users. But the skills can be cognitively demanding.


Web readers are persistently weak at judging whether information is trustworthy. In one study, Donald J. Leu, who researches literacy and technology at the University of Connecticut, asked 48 students to look at a spoof Web site (http://zapatopi.net/treeoctopus/) about a mythical species known as the "Pacific Northwest tree octopus." Nearly 90 percent of them missed the joke and deemed the site a reliable source.


Some literacy experts say that reading itself should be redefined. Interpreting videos or pictures, they say, may be as important a skill as analyzing a novel or a poem.


"Kids are using sound and images so they have a world of ideas to put together that aren't necessarily language oriented," said Donna E. Alvermann, a professor of language and literacy education at the University of Georgia. "Books aren't out of the picture, but they're only one way of experiencing information in the world today."


A Lifelong Struggle


In the case of Hunter Gaudet, the Internet has helped him feel more comfortable with a new kind of reading. A varsity lacrosse player in Somers, Conn., Hunter has struggled most of his life to read. After learning he was dyslexic in the second grade, he was placed in special education classes and a tutor came to his home three hours a week. When he entered high school, he dropped the special education classes, but he still reads books only when forced, he said.


In a book, "they go through a lot of details that aren't really needed," Hunter said. "Online just gives you what you need, nothing more or less."


When researching the 19th-century Chief Justice Roger B. Taney for one class, he typed Taney's name into Google and scanned the Wikipedia entry and other biographical sites. Instead of reading an entire page, he would type in a search word like "college" to find Taney's alma mater, assembling his information nugget by nugget.


Experts on reading difficulties suggest that for struggling readers, the Web may be a better way to glean information. "When you read online there are always graphics," said Sally Shaywitz, the author of "Overcoming Dyslexia" and a Yale professor. "I think it's just more comfortable and — I hate to say easier — but it more meets the needs of somebody who might not be a fluent reader."


Karen Gaudet, Hunter's mother, a regional manager for a retail chain who said she read two or three business books a week, hopes Hunter will eventually discover a love for books. But she is confident that he has the reading skills he needs to succeed.


"Based on where technology is going and the world is going," she said, "he's going to be able to leverage it."


When he was in seventh grade, Hunter was one of 89 students who participated in a study comparing performance on traditional state reading tests with a specially designed Internet reading test. Hunter, who scored in the lowest 10 percent on the traditional test, spent 12 weeks learning how to use the Web for a science class before taking the Internet test. It was composed of three sets of directions asking the students to search for information online, determine which sites were reliable and explain their reasoning.


Hunter scored in the top quartile. In fact, about a third of the students in the study, led by Professor Leu, scored below average on traditional reading tests but did well on the Internet assessment.


The Testing Debate


To date, there have been few large-scale appraisals of Web skills. The Educational Testing Service, which administers the SAT, has developed a digital literacy test known as iSkills that requires students to solve informational problems by searching for answers on the Web. About 80 colleges and a handful of high schools have administered the test so far.


But according to Stephen Denis, product manager at ETS, of the more than 20,000 students who have taken the iSkills test since 2006, only 39 percent of four-year college freshmen achieved a score that represented "core functional levels" in Internet literacy.


Now some literacy experts want the federal tests known as the nation's report card to include a digital reading component. So far, the traditionalists have held sway: The next round, to be administered to fourth and eighth graders in 2009, will test only print reading comprehension.


Mary Crovo of the National Assessment Governing Board, which creates policies for the national tests, said several members of a committee that sets guidelines for the reading tests believed large numbers of low-income and rural students might not have regular Internet access, rendering measurements of their online skills unfair.


Some simply argue that reading on the Internet is not something that needs to be tested — or taught.


"Nobody has taught a single kid to text message," said Carol Jago of the National Council of Teachers of English and a member of the testing guidelines committee. "Kids are smart. When they want to do something, schools don't have to get involved."


Michael L. Kamil, a professor of education at Stanford who lobbied for an Internet component as chairman of the reading test guidelines committee, disagreed. Students "are going to grow up having to be highly competent on the Internet," he said. "There's no reason to make them discover how to be highly competent if we can teach them."


The United States is diverging from the policies of some other countries. Next year, for the first time, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, which administers reading, math and science tests to a sample of 15-year-old students in more than 50 countries, will add an electronic reading component. The United States, among other countries, will not participate. A spokeswoman for the Institute of Education Sciences, the research arm of the Department of Education, said an additional test would overburden schools.


Even those who are most concerned about the preservation of books acknowledge that children need a range of reading experiences. "Some of it is the informal reading they get in e-mails or on Web sites," said Gay Ivey, a professor at James Madison University who focuses on adolescent literacy. "I think they need it all."


Web junkies can occasionally be swept up in a book. After Nadia read Elie Wiesel's Holocaust memoir "Night" in her freshman English class, Ms. Konyk brought home another Holocaust memoir, "I Have Lived a Thousand Years," by Livia Bitton-Jackson.


Nadia was riveted by heartbreaking details of life in the concentration camps. "I was trying to imagine this and I was like, I can't do this," she said. "It was just so — wow."


Hoping to keep up the momentum, Ms. Konyk brought home another book, "Silverboy," a fantasy novel. Nadia made it through one chapter before she got engrossed in the Internet fan fiction again.




A NEW GENERATION Nadia Konyk, 15, has a small book collection but prefers reading online.

Moradores, comércio e até gays rejeitam criação da ''Rua Gay''

 

Moradores, comércio e até gays rejeitam criação da ''Rua Gay''

Idealizador da proposta de oficializar Frei Caneca diz que preconceito gera má repercussão

Rodrigo Pereira

A proposta de oficializar a Frei Caneca como a primeira "rua gay" do País provocou reação contrária de moradores, comerciantes e até mesmo de ativistas do movimento gay de São Paulo. A Associação Casarão Brasil, idealizadora do projeto, atribui a má repercussão ao preconceito e ao desconhecimento das melhorias que a tematização da rua traria.

O presidente da associação, Douglas Drummond, explicou que a oficialização prevê a abertura de um concurso de projetos arquitetônicos para revitalizar a rua. Além disso, ele já está reformando o imóvel onde ficará a sede do Casarão - um centro para receber gays de todo o Brasil que oferecerá serviços gratuitos de agenciamento de emprego, internet, fax, atendimento médico, cursos, centro cultural e outros.

A associação, segundo Drummond, já preparou material para detalhar as propostas e vai iniciar na segunda-feira um levantamento em toda a rua para apontar quem é favorável ou contrário à medida - uma exigência da Câmara e da Prefeitura de São Paulo para discutir a viabilidade da implementação da rua gay na Frei Caneca.

Surpreendida, a Sociedade dos Amigos e Moradores do Bairro de Cerqueira César (Samorcc) convocou reunião na terça-feira na Paróquia Divino Espírito Santo - vizinha de parede do Casarão - para discutir o assunto com síndicos. O padre Lucas, que empresta sala para as reuniões da Samorcc, não quis falar da disputa. "Me recuso a dar entrevista ou a fazer qualquer comentário sobre isso."

"Ninguém está gostando dessa história", lançou a diretora da subárea da Consolação da Samorcc, Mara Palla. "Vai criar uma estigmatização, é querer criar artificialmente uma coisa que não existe. É querer impingir a uma área algo que só vai criar uma situação de comentários", disse Mara.

Ela fez questão de ressaltar que sua posição e a de moradores que reclamam do projeto "não é de preconceito". "Temos gays no bairro e não é de hoje. Convivemos e respeitamos, tem muito morador gay. Mas como estão fazendo é até uma forma de estimular a segregação", avaliou, temendo que a história da rua "seja jogada no lixo" ao ser oficializada gay.

Mesmo a Associação da Parada do Orgulho Gay mostrou-se desfavorável à idéia, por entender que criaria ali um gueto. "Nossa posição não é contrária, mas a de que não podemos aceitar mais guetos. Queremos ter o direito de ir e vir em qualquer lugar, como qualquer outro indivíduo. Não queremos uma zona de exclusão", disse Alexandre Santos, presidente da Parada, maior evento LGBT (Lésbicas, Gays, Bissexuais, Travestis e Transexuais), que neste ano reuniu 3,4 milhões de pessoas em São Paulo. "Mas foi bom por levantar a discussão."

Comerciantes e síndicos próximos ao imóvel do Casarão criticaram duramente a idéia de oficializar a rua gay. "Já chamam de Frei Boneca ou Gay Caneca, mas virar um ícone oficial, aprovado pela Câmara, aí, não dá", protestou Ronaldo Cainelli, de 46 anos, proprietário de um bar na esquina com a Rua Mathias Aires. "O Raul Seixas bebia aqui, tem de pensar na história do próprio Frei Caneca, não pode", opinou Cainelli.

"Vai perder muito aquele negócio de família aqui", disse Mara Lima, supervisora do Hotel San Gabriel. "A gente convive bem com todo mundo, mas não dá para selar todo mundo na rua como gay", criticou o síndico Alfredo Garcia, de 55 anos.

Proprietário de um mercado na Frei Caneca desde 1974, o português José Antonio disse ser contrário e acreditar que esse é mais um modismo. "Já teve mulheres - prostituta, sabe? -, depois vieram os nordestinos morar aqui, temos essas mudanças. E essa é a mais recente."

Drummond rebateu as manifestações contrárias, classificando-as como "preconceituosas". "A idéia é segregar mesmo. Hoje eu não consigo andar de mão dada com meu companheiro onde quer que seja; é preciso um espaço onde nos respeitem e nos sintamos seguros pra ser o que somos."

Entre os favoráveis à medida estão Sílvia Aparecida da Silva, funcionária de um hotel, e a dona de um chaveiro, Ilza Araújo. "Sou favorável, até porque nosso público é 100% gay", disse Sílvia. "A turma é alegre, não tem problema nenhum", disse Ilza.

"Seria ótimo mudar, trazer melhorias aqui. Mas todo mundo acha essa coisa de ser gay bonito, quando não é com sua família. Por isso acho que vai ter muita resistência. Tem muito morador tradicional, vai ser difícil passar", disse um professor universitário, que pediu anonimato.

Enquete feita pelo portal Estadão.com.br recebeu, até as 23 horas, 1.292 votos. A maioria, 55% dos internautas, se disse contra a nomeação da rua como "gay", ante 45% dos que são a favor.

 

ESTADO DE SP 26 DE JULHO DE 2008

Esse Eça!

 
 

  

 

Eça de Queiroz

 «Os políticos e as fraldas devem ser mudados freqüentemente e pela mesma razão.»

 

 

 

 

 

Portugal investirá para expandir idioma

 

Portugal investirá para expandir idioma

Medida será anunciada hoje na reunião da Comunidade de Países de Língua Portuguesa

Leonencio Nossa, LISBOA

 

O governo de Portugal anuncia hoje um plano de expansão do ensino da língua portuguesa no mundo com investimentos de ? 30 milhões. A proposta será apresentada no sétimo encontro de chefes de Estado dos oito países que falam português, que contará com a presença do presidente Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva e de líderes de Angola, Timor Leste, Moçambique, São Tomé e Príncipe, Guiné-Bissau e Cabo Verde.

Depois de 12 anos sem mostrar resultados práticos, a Comunidade de Países de Língua Portuguesa (CPLP) anunciará ainda, durante a reunião que começa por volta de 9 horas, 5 horas em Brasília, um acordo que permitirá aos seus cidadãos recorrer a consulados e embaixadas de qualquer país do bloco. Um cidadão angolano poderá usar os serviços do consulado de Portugal em Paris, por exemplo. Lula e os demais chefes de Estado também discutem o combate à Aids, a falta de alimentos e a criação na cidade de Redenção, no Ceará, de uma universidade voltada especialmente para jovens africanos.

O encontro da CPLP ocorrerá no Centro Cultural de Belém, a poucos metros do Mosteiro dos Jerônimos. O mosteiro será palco da festa de entrega do Prêmio Camões, o mais importante da literatura em língua portuguesa que, nesta edição, coube ao romancista português António Lobo Antunes.

O argumento do governo de Portugal de levar à frente um plano de remodelação do Instituto Camões, orçado em ? 30 milhões, é a maior presença no mercado do Brasil. Diplomatas brasileiros observam que o idioma é a única coisa que aproxima nações que seguiram caminhos tão diversos nos últimos séculos. Cada uma delas tenta tirar vantagens por usar uma língua que não é falada em nenhum país do G-8, grupo das nações mais ricas. Portugal vem ampliando o intercâmbio comercial com o Brasil. Já o governo brasileiro trabalha na melhoria das relações diplomáticas em países africanos que falam o idioma, atendendo a interesses da Petrobrás e da Vale, que têm investimentos na região.
FONTE ESTADO DE SP, 25 DE JULHO DE 2008 

Educação de qualidade e superação da pobreza

ESTADO DE SP, 24 DE JULHO DE 2008

Educação de qualidade e superação da pobreza

Thais Garrafa e Maria Alice Setubal

A discussão a respeito da enorme desigualdade social persistente no nosso país tem sido objeto de inúmeros estudos, especialmente nas áreas da educação, economia e assistência social. Nos diversos fóruns desse debate, marcam presença os dados do Programa Bolsa-Família, tema de recente pesquisa coordenada pelo Instituto Brasileiro de Análises Sociais e Econômicas (Ibase), que destacou o aumento no consumo de alimentos e de bens - como eletrodomésticos e móveis - como o maior ganho para as famílias beneficiárias. Uma política de tal envergadura e importância convoca ao diálogo com os diferentes setores da sociedade implicados na busca de alternativas viáveis para que o País alcance melhores patamares de eqüidade social.

Nesse sentido, é preciso reconhecer que, embora o trabalho seja a condição fundamental para a superação da pobreza e a autonomia em relação à bolsa, essa dimensão não encerra a problemática das famílias integrantes do programa. A diversidade de circunstâncias complexas e opressivas experimentadas no dia-a-dia configura situações de extrema vulnerabilidade psíquica e social para a grande maioria dos moradores dos territórios mais pobres, sobretudo nas grandes cidades. Sob os efeitos da violência e da precária infra-estrutura urbana, crianças, jovens e adultos desenham o cotidiano familiar com as tintas do isolamento, da dependência de álcool e outras drogas, da fragilidade dos laços e das situações de conflito com a lei. Um cenário de riscos significativos para diversas esferas da vida.

Ao lado do trabalho, a educação é, sem dúvida, uma das portas de saída da pobreza. A extensão da bolsa a famílias com jovens traz nova responsabilidade para as políticas públicas que visam à permanência desses alunos na escola. Infelizmente, ainda estamos muito distantes de alcançar um mínimo de eqüidade: apenas 56,2% dos jovens até 16 anos conclui o ensino fundamental e somente 37,9% dos jovens até 19 anos conclui o ensino médio.

O alto número de jovens que abandonam a vida escolar denuncia o verdadeiro abismo que separa a escola e as camadas mais vulneráveis da sociedade. Para intervir nesse quadro, no entanto, é necessário reconhecer o desamparo da escola diante de um contexto altamente complexo, como já esboçamos.

Uma educação de qualidade para todos só poderá ser construída a partir do investimento público na capacitação dos educadores em relação a essa problemática social, ao lado de iniciativas que promovam a abertura da escola à comunidade. É fundamental que a escola conheça melhor as necessidades, os problemas e as potências do universo com que trabalha. Dessa forma será possível adequar o ensino aos valores, tradições e cultura dessa população e, ao mesmo tempo, construir diálogos com instituições locais que atuem como parceiras no desafio de manter crianças e jovens na escola, aprendendo o que devem aprender na série adequada.

Atualmente, experiências e estudos mostram uma escola que aponta para fora de seus muros toda a responsabilidade pelo fracasso escolar - situações de alcoolismo e violência doméstica; pais que não dão a devida atenção a seus filhos, passam o dia fora de casa e desvalorizam a criança e a si próprios quando o filho enfrenta uma dificuldade. Se tal situação alarmante é muitas vezes verdadeira, na falta de instrumentos e assistência profissional adequada a escola fica paralisada e se fecha sobre si mesma. Em vez de se aproximar da família e conhecer melhor esse cotidiano, culpabiliza os pais e reconhece a evasão como uma saída legítima para o aluno - "esse não tem mesmo mais jeito..."

A paralisia e a falta de perspectivas encontram correspondência no discurso das famílias, que acabam compartilhando o preconceito e a "naturalização" da falta de lugar do jovem considerado pela escola um aluno-problema. Mães apontam como natural o fato de as crianças não aprenderem a ler e não demonstram qualquer surpresa diante das atitudes rudes com que são tratados os jovens que tentam retornar à escola - "você não vai entrar aqui para dar porrada nos menores, vai?"; "aqui não tem mais vaga, você nunca devia ter parado de estudar!"

Nada se reivindica. Nada se constrói ou se transforma. A distância entre escola e família se coloca, portanto, como condição da imobilidade e da desobrigação da escola com relação aos problemas da comunidade. Tudo se passa como se a solução estivesse inteiramente localizada fora do âmbito da vida escolar. Daí a existência de uma certa "permissão para sair", como se abandonar a escola fosse "um bom negócio", uma vez que a evasão permitiria que o jovem trabalhasse e melhorasse a condição social da sua família - apontada pela escola como o principal fator para que os alunos não aprendam.

O desenvolvimento de uma política educacional mais próxima desse universo ocupa lugar central na construção de uma educação de qualidade para todos. Assumir os desafios do diálogo entre a escola e a família é tarefa necessária para que todas as crianças e todos os jovens encontrem oportunidades efetivas para a conclusão do ensino fundamental e do ensino médio.

Maria Alice Setubal, socióloga, mestre em Ciências Políticas pela USP e doutora em Psicologia da Educação pela PUC-SP, diretora-presidente do Centro de Estudos e Pesquisas em Educação, Cultura e Ação Comunitária (Cenpec) e fundadora e presidente da Fundação Tide Setubal, foi consultora do Unicef na área educacional para a América Latina e o Caribe

Thais Garrafa, psicóloga, psicanalista pelo Instituto Sedes Sapientiae, é integrante da equipe técnica do projeto Ação Família São Miguel Paulista, da Fundação Tide Setubal

Stoooopid .... why the Google generation isn't as smart as it thinks

July 22, 2008
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From
July 20, 2008

Stoooopid .... why the Google generation isn't as smart as it thinks

The digital age is destroying us by ruining our ability to concentrate

 
Web users fill the EasyInternetCafe

On Wednesday I received 72 e-mails, not counting junk, and only two text messages. It was a quiet day but, then again, I'm not including the telephone calls. I'm also not including the deafening and pointless announcements on a train journey to Wakefield – use a screen, jerks – the piercingly loud telephone conversations of unsocialised adults and the screaming of untamed brats. And, come to think of it, why not include the junk e-mails? They also interrupt. There were 38. Oh and I'd better throw in the 400-odd news alerts that I receive from all the websites I monitor via my iPhone.

I was – the irony! – trying to read a book called Distracted: The Erosion of Attention and the Coming Dark Age by Maggie Jackson. Crushed in my train, I had become the embodiment of T S Eliot's great summary of the modern predicament: "Distracted from distraction by distraction". This is, you might think, a pretty standard, vaguely comic vignette of modern life – man harassed by self-inflicted technology. And so it is. We're all distracted, we're all interrupted. How foolish we are! But, listen carefully, it's killing me and it's killing you.

David Meyer is professor of psychology at the University of Michigan. In 1995 his son was killed by a distracted driver who ran a red light. Meyer's speciality was attention: how we focus on one thing rather than another. Attention is the golden key to the mystery of human consciousness; it might one day tell us how we make the world in our heads. Attention comes naturally to us; attending to what matters is how we survive and define ourselves.

The opposite of attention is distraction, an unnatural condition and one that, as Meyer discovered in 1995, kills. Now he is convinced that chronic, long-term distraction is as dangerous as cigarette smoking. In particular, there is the great myth of multitasking. No human being, he says, can effectively write an e-mail and speak on the telephone. Both activities use language and the language channel in the brain can't cope. Multitaskers fool themselves by rapidly switching attention and, as a result, their output deteriorates.

The same thing happens if you talk on a mobile phone while driving – even legally with a hands-free kit. You listen to language on the phone and lose the ability to take in the language of road signs. Worst of all is if your caller describes something visual, a wallpaper pattern, a view. As you imagine this, your visual channel gets clogged and you start losing your sense of the road ahead. Distraction kills – you or others.

Chronic distraction, from which we all now suffer, kills you more slowly. Meyer says there is evidence that people in chronically distracted jobs are, in early middle age, appearing with the same symptoms of burn-out as air traffic controllers. They might have stress-related diseases, even irreversible brain damage. But the damage is not caused by overwork, it's caused by multiple distracted work. One American study found that interruptions take up 2.1 hours of the average knowledge worker's day. This, it was estimated, cost the US economy $588 billion a year. Yet the rabidly multitasking distractee is seen as some kind of social and economic ideal.

Meyer tells me that he sees part of his job as warning as many people as possible of the dangers of the distracted world we are creating. Other voices, particularly in America, have joined the chorus of dismay. Jackson's book warns of a new Dark Age: "As our attentional skills are squandered, we are plunging into a culture of mistrust, skimming and a dehumanising merger between man and machine."

Mark Bauerlein, professor of English at Emory University in Atlanta, has just written The Dumbest Generation: How the Digital Age Stupefies Young Americans and Jeopardises Our Future. He portrays a bibliophobic generation of teens, incapable of sustaining concentration long enough to read a book. And learning a poem by heart just strikes them as dumb.

In an influential essay in The Atlantic magazine, Nicholas Carr asks: "Is Google making us stupid?" Carr, a chronic distractee like the rest of us, noticed that he was finding it increasingly difficult to immerse himself in a book or a long article – "The deep reading that used to come naturally has become a struggle."

Instead he now Googles his way though life, scanning and skimming, not pausing to think, to absorb. He feels himself being hollowed out by "the replacement of complex inner density with a new kind of self – evolving under the pressure of information overload and the technology of the 'instantly available'".

"The important thing," he tells me, "is that we now go outside of ourselves to make all the connections that we used to make inside of ourselves." The attending self is enfeebled as its functions are transferred to cyberspace.

"The next generation will not grieve because they will not know what they have lost," says Bill McKibben, the great environmentalist.

McKibben's hero is Henry Thoreau, who, in the 19th century, cut himself off from the distractions of industrialising America to live in quiet contemplation by Walden Pond in Massachusetts. He was, says McKibben, "incredibly prescient". McKibben can't live that life, though. He must organise his global warming campaigns through the internet and suffer and react to the beeping pleading of the incoming e-mail.

"I feel that much of my life is ebbing away in the tide of minute-by-minute distraction . . . I'm not certain what the effect on the world will be. But psychologists do say that intense close engagement with things does provide the most human satisfaction." The psychologists are right. McKibben describes himself as "loving novelty" and yet "craving depth", the contemporary predicament in a nutshell.

Ironically, the companies most active in denying us our craving for depth, the great distracters – Microsoft, Google, IBM, Intel – are trying to do something about this. They have formed the Information Overload Research Group, "dedicated to promoting solutions to e-mail overload and interruptions". None of this will work, of course, because of the overwhelming economic forces involved. People make big money out of distracting us. So what can be done?

The first issue is the determination of the distracters to create young distractees. Television was the first culprit. Tests clearly show that a switched-on television reduces the quality and quantity of interaction between children and their parents. The internet multiplies the effect a thousandfold. Paradoxically, the supreme information provider also has the effect of reducing information intake.

Bauerlein is 49. As a child, he says, he learnt about the Vietnam war from Walter Cronkite, the great television news anchor of the time. Now teenagers just go to their laptops on coming home from school and sink into their online cocoon. But this isn't the informational paradise dreamt of by Bill Gates and Google: 90% of sites visited by teenagers are social networks. They are immersed not in knowledge but in "gossip and social banter".

"They don't," says Bauerlein, "grow up." They are "living off the thrill of peer attention. Meanwhile, their intellects refuse the cultural and civic inheritance that has made us what we are now".

The hyper-connectivity of the young is bewildering. Jackson tells me that one study looked at five years of e-mail activity of a 24-year-old. He was found to have connections with 11.7m people. Most of these connections would be pretty threadbare. But that, in a way, is the point. All internet connections are threadbare. They lack the complexity and depth of real-world interactions. This is concealed by the language.

Join Facebook or MySpace and you suddenly have "friends" all over the place. Of course, you don't. These are just casual, tenuous electronic pings. Nothing could be further removed from the idea of friendship.

These connections are severed as quickly as they are taken up – with the click of a mouse. Jackson and everyone else I spoke to was alarmed by the potential impact on real-world relationships. Teenagers are being groomed to think others can be picked up on a whim and dropped because of a mood or some slight offence. The fear is that the idea of sticking with another through thick and thin – the very essence of friendship and love – will come to seem absurd, uncool, meaningless.

One irony that lies behind all this is the myth that children are good at this stuff. Adults often joke that their 10-year-old has to fix the computer. But it's not true. Studies show older people are generally more adept with computers than younger. This is because, like all multitaskers, the kids are deluding themselves into thinking that busy-ness is depth when, in fact, they are skimming the surface of cyberspace as surely as they are skimming the surface of life. It takes an adult imagination to discriminate, to make judgments; and those are the only skills that really matter.

The concern of all these writers and thinkers is that it is precisely these skills that will vanish from the world as we become infantilised cyber-serfs, our entertainments and impulses maintained and controlled by the techno-geek aristocracy. They have all noted – either in themselves or in others – diminishing attention spans, inability to focus, a loss of the meditative mode. "I can't read War and Peace any more," confessed one of Carr's friends. "I've lost the ability to do that. Even a blog post of more than three or four paragraphs is too much to absorb. I skim it."

The computer is training us not to attend, to drown in the sea of information rather than to swim. Jackson thinks this can be fixed. The brain is malleable. Just as it can be trained to be distracted, so it can be trained to pay attention. Education and work can be restructured to teach and propagate the skills of concentration and focus. People can be taught to turn off, to ignore the beep and the ping.

Bauerlein, dismayed by his distracted students, is not optimistic. Multiple distraction might, he admits, be a phase, and in time society will self-correct. But the sheer power of the forces of distraction is such that he thinks this will not happen.

This, for him, puts democracy at risk. It is a form of government that puts "a heavy burden of responsibility on our citizens". But if they think Paris is in England and they can't find Iraq on a map because their world is a social network of "friends" – examples of appalling ignorance recently found in American teenagers – how can they be expected to shoulder that burden?

This may all be a moral panic, a severe case of the older generation wagging its finger at the young. It was ever thus. But what is new is the assiduity with which companies and institutions are selling us the tools of distraction. Every new device on the market is, to return to Eliot, "Filled with fancies and empty of meaning / Tumid apathy with no concentration".

These things do make our lives easier, but only by destroying the very selves that should be protesting at every distraction, demanding peace, quiet and contemplation. The distracters have product to shift, and it's shifting. On the train to Wakefield, with my new 3G iPhone, distracted from distraction by distraction, I saw the future and, to my horror, it worked.

Portugal Holds on to Words Few Can Grasp

 
The New York Times
 
 
 
 
Joao Pina for The New York Times

A Fernando Pessoa stencil made on a wall of a building in the Bica neighborhood of Lisbon. His heirs plan to sell some of his manuscripts.


July 15, 2008
Abroad

Portugal Holds on to Words Few Can Grasp

LISBON — The latest brouhaha involving cultural property is unfolding here — and not, for a change, over stolen vases or precious war booty, but a poet's correspondence. As usual, it's a window onto a nation's character. The elderly heirs of Fernando Pessoa, the exalted Portuguese writer, plan this fall to auction Pessoa's correspondence with Aleister Crowley, the early-20th-century British mystic, mountaineer, writer and practitioner of black magic. Portugal's culture minister is among those who have shown distress in recent days about the letters' leaving the country.

Already the heirs have sold several of Pessoa's notebooks, which the National Library of Portugal bought last year. Since much of Pessoa's work remains unpublished, scholars fear that dispersing his papers (he left behind some 30,000 of them, in trunks in his home) will make it harder to decipher what remains one of the trickiest and most voluminous legacies among the great writers of the modern era.

Pessoa and Crowley struck up an odd-couple correspondence in 1930. Pessoa was the shy, probably celibate, at the time virtually unknown Portuguese poet who lived through a multitude of literary pseudonyms. Crowley was the larger-than-life spectacle whose recent biographer felt compelled to point out that his subject "did not — I repeat not — perform or advocate human sacrifice." A fellow astrologer, Pessoa wrote initially to correct errors he spotted in Crowley's calculations. Crowley responded, warmly, in letters to Pessoa that he signed "666."

In Pessoa's last home, now the Casa Fernando Pessoa, a city-run cultural center, Portugal's minister of culture, José António Pinto Ribeiro, politely made clear the other night during a public forum that the state has the power to keep what it decides is national patrimony in the country. Manuela Nogueira, Pessoa's niece, responded that a contract had already been signed with an auction house, but added that there was no reason to worry, because all the papers were being photographed so that copies would forever be available to scholars, regardless of where the originals ended up.

Nationalism is on the rise in Europe. The vast majority of Pessoa's papers belong to the National Library; the remainder, some 2,700, to the heirs. In this case the originals contain all sorts of scribbled notes and other unrecorded details that even good photocopies might miss. Most Portuguese, truth be told, couldn't care less about what happens to Pessoa's papers, but he is still the most remarkable sort of national treasure.

Eduardo Lourenço is perhaps Portugal's most distinguished literary critic. Pessoa is "an exception, being a great writer," he said the other afternoon. "But he had a way of being that is distinctly Portuguese." He paused to find the right words. "It has to do with everything and nothing — that we Portuguese can have everything, but still feel we have nothing."

Portugal, he explained, had discovered half the world by the 16th century but still felt itself a failure for having not discovered the rest. The national mind-set, Mr. Lourenço said, is "a combination of megalomania and humility."

"Also Pessoa was a loner," he went on, "one of the great poets to express absolute loneliness — some of his poems are so sad they are difficult to read, which is very Portuguese. Listen to fado." He was referring to the music that here connotes "saudade," a nearly untranslatable word meaning homesickness but also something more, something, he suggested, like paradise lost.

Pessoa of course represented much else besides. Raised in South Africa, trilingual, he wrote in English and French as well as in Portuguese, and in person ("pessoa" means simply person in Portuguese) affected the reserve of an English gentleman, inventing in his writing heteronyms, or imaginary characters, through which to make himself, as it were, disappear.

His most famous prose work, "The Book of Disquiet," was written under the name Bernardo Soares. It was cobbled together posthumously by scholars combing through the thousands of uncollated pages of literary fragments. (It's said that Pessoa, who died of cirrhosis in 1935, at 47, misread the stars, thinking he had two more years to live, during which he planned to organize his papers, although in a sense they could never be reduced to a single order, and so remain open-ended and forever elusive, like a hall of mirrors, and therefore quintessentially modern.)

Pessoa also wrote as Alexander Search, a Scottish engineer; Alberto Caeiro (Pessoa often called this invented character "my master"); Ricardo Reis; and Álvaro de Campos, a retired, bisexual naval engineer and melancholic with an addiction to drugs.

"What happened, you ask?" Pessoa wrote in 1920 to his one and only sweetheart, explaining why he was breaking up with her. "I got switched with Álvaro de Campos."

As Campos, he also wrote: "Fernando Pessoa, strictly speaking, doesn't exist." "The History of the Siege of Lisbon," by the contemporary Nobel Prize-winning Portuguese novelist José Saramago, imagines a proofreader named Raimundo Silva, a man not unlike Pessoa, who, by inserting the single word "not" into a book, changes Portuguese history.

"Raimundo Silva," Mr. Saramago writes, "thought to himself, in the manner of Fernando Pessoa, If I smoked, I should now light a cigarette, watching the river, thinking how vague and uncertain everything is, but, not smoking, I should simply think that everything is truly uncertain and vague, without a cigarette, even though the cigarette, were I to smoke it, would in itself express the uncertainty and vagueness of things, like smoke itself, were I to smoke."

Pessoa, not coincidentally, nursed an 80-cigarette-a-day habit. Jerónimo Pizarro is the young Pessoa scholar whom the heirs have allowed to photograph the papers they have. "Pessoa's like a shadow, an invisible man," he said. "He wrote about being the center of a center where there was nothing."

Mr. Pizarro resisted pigeonholing Pessoa as distinctly Portuguese. (Mr. Pizarro himself happens to be Colombian.) But the director of Casa Pessoa, Inês Pedrosa, who is Portuguese, insisted that Pessoa captured something distinct about the nation's congenital mind-set. When Antonio Salazar became the country's dictator in 1932, she said: "The idea was not to have to worry about your next meal, but not to dream too much, either. We don't like people who stand out too much in Portugal. I have a friend who went to work in the United States for a big advertising firm and was asked to write a self-evaluation of his portfolio. What he thought he did very well he wrote was 'good,' what he thought good, 'sufficient.' The people at the firm told him he had a psychological problem."

"But it was not a psychological problem, it was a cultural issue," Ms. Pedrosa said. "He was simply being Portuguese, and Pessoa wrote brilliantly about this ridiculous condition."

In the basement of Casa Pessoa she pulled from shelves on Pessoa's old wood cabinets some of the books he collected and annotated. (Just recently, she said, a poem by Caiero was discovered on the back cover of one book.) In "A Short History of Christianity," by John M. Robertson, from 1902, Pessoa wrote in a tiny hand in the margin of one page, "excellent," in English, beside a passage declaring: "the material refinements of civilization" had bred in modern cities "a new neurosis." Pessoa underlined the last three words.

"For Portugal, it's not just the leftovers of something unimportant, it's Pessoa," Mr. Lourenço said about the Crowley papers. An expression connoting saudade briefly flashed across his face. "A painter paints a picture with the idea of selling it; a poet doesn't write with the idea of selling his papers, least of all Pessoa."

"All of the big questions of philosophy, religion and politics are in his work in the most radical way," he continued, "and in a fragmentary form that reflects on man and the creator. 'Because God has no unity, how can I?' Pessoa asked."

Mr. Lourenço gathered his thoughts one more time. "He is the most tragic of the Portuguese poets," he said. "The pleasure of unhappiness is particularly Portuguese."

 

Joao Pina for The New York Times

Manuela Nogueira, Fernando Pessoa's niece, at her house in Estoril on the outskirts of Lisbon.

Henry and William James

 
The New York Times
 
 
 
 
 
Henry, left, and William James in late middle age, early in the 20th century.


July 6, 2008

The Dysfunctional Jameses

 

HOUSE OF WITS

An Intimate Portrait of the James Family.

By Paul Fisher.

Illustrated. 693 pp. Henry Holt & Company. $35.

 

"House of Wits" seems an odd title, suggesting elegant repartee and playful badinage — more Oscar Wilde or Noël Coward — for what is billed as an "intimate portrait" of the James family. Certainly they could be witty (Alice, the only daughter, was especially sharp); they competed as children at the family dinner table to tell the best stories, jumping from their chairs and gesticulating passionately; and two of them, the two geniuses of the family, grew up to live on their wits. But "wits" is not how I think of them, either before or after reading this book. "House of horrors" would be nearer the mark, in this version. Paul Fisher refers to the James home as a "chamber of horrors," a "plague ship" and "the James family bog." His big project is to tell the James family story as a traumatic saga of dysfunction, competition, anxiety, aspirations often thwarted, confusion, repression, breakdown and sadness, of lifelong struggles to get away and an inexorable pull back to the powerful family bond. The lives of all the children are shaped by the father's peculiarities: "The young Jameses grew up borne on the shifting currents of Henry's emotions and desires, and buffeted by them." Resenting or hating the home, driven away from it by wanderlust, ambition and desire for independence, yet always locked into it and haunted by what Alice James called "ghost microbes," the Jameses were doomed, in Fisher's words, to be "always running away from Jameses only to collide with Jameses again."

However you choose to tell it, it's an extraordinary American family story, stretching from the 1820s to World War I. First there's the pioneering tale of the founding grandfather, William, an Ulster immigrant and self-made Albany businessman. Then, the eccentric and domineering personality of Henry James Sr., high-minded, spiritually questing, unemployed, nomadic, scarred by the amputation of his leg in childhood, his "inward demons" and his breakdown in his 30s (or, in the Swedenborgian terms he adopted, his "vastation"). Then the women of the family, devotedly domestic, Presbyterian Mary James, long-suffering and managerial (described here as overcontrolling and "passive-aggressive"), and her sister, Aunt Kate Walsh, briefly married, but for most of her life a dependent, ever-present, increasingly costive adjunct to the family. Then, the early years of the five highly competitive James children, born between 1842 and 1848, constantly moving around from Albany, New York, Europe, Newport, and Boston, undergoing a great many educational systems, subject to their father's erratic, intense demands and moral ambitions, a bewildering mixture of free choice, high expectations and close surveillance. (The parents "routinely" opened their children's letters, for example, well into their adulthood.) Out of this, the struggle for intellectual mastery between the older brothers, William and Henry — the elder ("a tortured late bloomer") taking many years of trial and tribulation to become the great psychologist and philosopher; the younger energetically forging his way as America's novelist-in-exile — as soon as he could. In contrast to, but interlinked with, these two astounding careers, there is the bitter quest for independence, the agonized breakdowns, the strong attraction to female friendship and the hidden brilliance of the invalid sister, Alice, who died at 44. And, far away from New England or Europe, the two younger brothers, Wilkie and Bob, struggle to make a living in Florida or Chicago or Milwaukee, working as plantation owners or railroad clerks or in the iron business. Wilkie, wounded in the Civil War, always in bad health and with bad financial luck, dying young at 38; Bob, an unstable alcoholic with a failed marriage.

The story has often been told, either as a family narrative or in individual biographies. What does Paul Fisher, a professor of English at Wellesley, bring to this crowded territory? His argument is that no single member of the family, however remarkable his or her achievement, can be understood separately from the others, and that there has as yet been no view of the family that takes into account late-20th-century work on same-sex love, gender, repression, illness, depression and alcoholism. In Fisher's view, it has never been made apparent how "contemporary" the Jameses are, how relevant to our times as "the forerunners of today's Prozac-loving, depressed or bipolar, self-conscious, narcissistic, fame-seeking, self-dramatized, hard-to-mate-or-marry Americans."

This agenda sounds rousingly new, and Fisher is right to say that some of the more startling aspects of the Jameses were passed over by earlier biographers. Leon Edel notoriously played down Henry James's complicated sexuality, and for a long time relatively little attention was paid to the women of the family. But in fact, much of the work Fisher draws on for his "new" treatment — on Henry James's suppressed homosexuality or on Alice James's illness and her "Boston marriage" — is now very well established in James studies, and has a rather familiar look to it. Fisher nudges us, as if scandalously, toward Henry's sexual repression whenever possible — noting, for example, his youthful description of the footmen carrying staves in London in 1855 as an indication of "incipient sexual stirrings" or interpreting his descriptions of male sculpture in Rome in 1869 as "teeming with sexual, barely disguised genital metaphors." Fisher makes much of the homoerotic friendship between the two male characters in "The American," his novel-turned-play, and sums up James's erotic history as living "in a prison of fear." But there is nothing original about his theory of James's sexual repression, dutifully drawn from Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick's theories of silence and closetedness.

Necessarily, too, Fisher's account of Alice James's turning her illness into a form of self-assertion in competition with her brothers, of her flirtatious and quasi-erotic relationship with William and of her powerfully mixed feelings about her father is heavily indebted to Jean Strouse's pioneering study, and often echoes it. Fisher quotes the same "courtship" poems from William to Alice as Strouse and gives similar accounts of her "neurasthenia" and breakdown in Switzerland.

Still, Fisher does have some new theories, which he plays for all they are worth, the major one being Henry James Sr.'s "chronic alcoholism."The father's early addiction is well known, but Fisher pushes it later into the life, gives it as a significant cause for his breakdown and proposes continuing addiction as an explanation of his behavior, which he describes as "mad" or unstable. Bob's addiction is seen as re-enacting his father's, and Henry is also fingered as a drinker, "even if there is no real evidence of his father's kind of alcoholism." Fisher makes more of the women, presenting a tougher and more oppressive mother than "some biographers" have done, emphasizing Aunt Kate's hitherto "downplayed" intrepidity and independence of thought, and makes more of William's brief attraction to the radical Jewish poet Emma Lazarus and his interest in the work of the psychic Leonora Piper.

Some of Fisher's discoveries have a hypothetical air, relying heavily on those useful biographical formulations "must have" and "might have." So, if Mary and her sister, Kate, were rivals for Henry Sr.'s courtship, then Kate, if she "felt a twinge of envy," must have "hid it well." Similarly: "Harry's illnesses ... must have been formative"; Bob, "the youngest male James child, may well have been the first to try sex." Fisher would have liked the Jameses to be incestuous, but he has to make do with repeated innuendo about a family that "tended toward incest ... figurative and psychological incest, at least."

Fisher's promise to put the Jameses more in their social context is energetically fulfilled. He has lots of information about Atlantic crossings, American houses and cities, shops, public lectures in Boston, mediums, jungle explorations with the naturalist Louis Agassiz, Saratoga Springs and "wilderness tourism" in the Adirondacks. He manages the organization of his big complicated project efficiently, driving us along without too much "meanwhile, back in Cambridge. ..."

My main problem with Fisher's book is its tone of voice. To make the Jameses popular, accessible and relevant, and to keep his narrative surging along, Fisher goes in for a relentlessly sprightly, up-to-the-minute headline style. This does come as a change after R. W. B. Lewis's rather stuffy prose, or Edel's leisurely psychoanalyzing of James's books. But it rapidly becomes wearing. Favorite adjectives are dysfunctional, crucial, insecure, conflicted, fateful, weird, iconic, groundbreaking and signature (as in Henry Sr.'s "signature enthusiasm"). Henry eats bland "comfort food" in Britain and Alice is a "career invalid"; Mrs. James is an "icon of domesticity" and Thomas Carlyle has made a "real estate steal." Everything is made racy, dramatic and vivid, as in: "Grief was evidently far from Harry's mind as he hurled himself into the gaiety of the national capital." Or: "Deadly contagious illnesses roved the Victorian world with impunity." There are lashings of travelogue: "The sunshine was cold but the shadows even chillier, as Harry walked into the deep narrow streets of the old city Rome." "Morning coffee was a glorious business at the famous cafe of Florian's on the Piazza San Marco in Venice." Climaxes are loudly signposted: "Little did he know what kind of heiress was waiting for him!" Minor characters are briskly brought to life, with a slightly worrying emphasis on facial hair: "the black-eyed, mustached Friedrich Nietzsche," "the tubercular and long-mustached Scottish novelist Robert Louis Stevenson," Henrik Ibsen "the lion-whiskered Norwegian iconoclast." The book's historical aim — a confused one — is to persuade us that the Jameses were typical Victorians yet also exceptions to every Victorian rule: "strange and florid paradoxes of passionate unconventionality and Victorian restraint." Every condescending historical cliché about Victorianism is duly trotted out. We hear repeatedly of "the monumentally repressed 19th century," the treatment by Victorian men of women as "second-class citizens," the eroticism of Victorian sickbeds, Victorian starchiness, double standards, conventions, self-hatred and "ingrown ... convolutions." These stereotypes rush past entirely unexamined.

Fisher's most disconcerting decision is to refer, throughout, to Henry James as "Harry." This is fair enough when he is a little boy, but leads to trouble when he becomes a major novelist and legendary subject of biography. So we get "Harry's smash-hit novella 'Daisy Miller,'" and "Harry finished his final installment of 'The Portrait of a Lady,'" and Leon Edel's "painstaking analysis of Harry." It's as if I had written a whole biography of Edith Wharton referring to her by her childhood nickname, "Pussy," or as if Richard Holmes had called Shelley throughout by his family name, "Bysshe." Fisher presumably wants us to feel intimate not with the famous, celebrated, public "Master," but with "the vulnerable, struggling Harry James." This is why, I suppose, there is rather little in the book about Henry's (or William's) writings. Fisher wants to show, not the author but the child, the son and brother, persisting as the essential self. So he pictures Henry James, after the deaths of his parents and all his siblings, as a profoundly lonely figure, playing down his adult friendships and professional relationships. He ends his book (in yet another imitation of Lytton Strachey's much-imitated ending of "Queen Victoria") with a deathbed rush back to James's earliest memories of childhood. It is a thoroughly infantilizing agenda, in which no one in the James family, least of all the novelist, is allowed to put childhood and family life behind him, and to be grown-up.

Hermione Lee's biography of Edith Wharton was recently published in paperback.

Human Statue of Liberty

 

 
This INCREDIBLE picture was taken in 1918.  
 
 It is 18,000 men preparing for war in a training camp at Camp Dodge in Iowa .  EIGHTEEN THOUSAND MEN !!!!!
 
 
      
   
  
           

Machado de Assis

ESTADO DE SP 29 de junho de 2008

 
'Seus contos estão entre os melhores'

"Infâmia, escárnio, loucura, oportunismo e ironia não faltam aos personagens machadianos. Em um conto como A Parasita Azul, há um jogo social que passa pelo casamento e pelo favor, uma ironia mais refinada, o sonho delirante de um personagem. A composição da narrativa é mais ousada e antecipa certos recursos usados nos romances da segunda fase."

Ubiratan Brasil

Meu primeiro contato com Machado de Assis se deu com os contos de Histórias da Meia-noite. O primeiro que li foi A Parasita Azul. Ainda bem que comecei pelos contos, aos doze ou treze anos é difícil, senão impossível, encarar um romance do Bruxo. Lembro que li esse conto com prazer e curiosidade. Queria saber como ia terminar aquela história de amor, mais um triângulo amoroso, em que os amigos Camilo e Soares disputam Isabel. Esse conto tem um forte lado romanesco, as peripécias vão de Paris ao interior de Goiás: do paraíso ao inferno. Mas é no inferno da província que Camilo herda a fazenda do pai e apaixona-se por Isabel (a namoradinha da juventude). Ele esquece Paris e a mulher por quem se apaixonara, uma "princesa moscovita", que de princesa e de moscovita não tem nada. Na verdade, ela não passa de uma ladra vulgar, uma grande pilantra. No fim, Camilo faz ao amigo e rival Soares uma proposta bem machadiana: um cargo político como uma compensação pela perda da amada. O rival e ex-amigo diz:

"A ação que o senhor praticou era já bastante infame; não precisava juntar-lhe o escárnio."

Infâmia, escárnio, loucura, oportunismo e ironia não faltam aos personagens machadianos. Acho que esse conto marca uma inflexão na prosa de Machado. Nele há um jogo social que passa pelo casamento e pelo favor, uma ironia mais refinada, o sonho delirante de um personagem, as relações entre o centro (Europa) e um país colonizado. A composição da narrativa é mais ousada e antecipa certos recursos usados nos romances da segunda fase.

Um grande livro é um convite à releitura. Certamente é o caso dos quatro últimos romances de Machado, além de vários contos. Na releitura você descobre relações que estavam escondidas, disparates que adquirem sentido, pois nada é gratuito na obra machadiana. Nas Memórias Póstumas há alucinações e delírios memoráveis. Por exemplo, no capítulo Visão do Corredor, Brás Cubas, ainda jovem, dá à namorada Marcela um pente com diamantes. A moça tem um leve sobressalto e logo "paga o sacrifício com um beijo, o mais ardente de todos". Quando Brás sai da casa da mulher, ele olha para o teto do corredor e murmura: "Um anjo!" O leitor sabe que Marcela é uma cortesã. Logo depois , "como um escárnio", ele percebe que o olhar de Marcela "chispava de cima de um nariz, que era ao mesmo tempo o nariz de Bakbarah e o meu. Pobre namorado das Mil e uma noites!" O que vem em seguida é um pesadelo ou uma alucinação: uma cena de violência em que Marcela é desancada por três correeiros. O corredor de Marcela se confunde com uma rua de Bagdá, mas na verdade são o pai e o tio que agarram Brás Cubas e o levam ao intendente de polícia e depois ao navio que parte para Lisboa. Há outros capítulos incríveis, de uma crueldade sem limite, como D. Plácida. Há milhões de Plácidas no Brasil de hoje. O inusitado nas Memórias não é apenas o fato de ser narrado por um "defunto autor", mas também o fato de o leitor acreditar nesta farsa. A inovação formal deste romance reitera uma afirmação de Borges: "Os gêneros literários dependem menos dos textos que do modo de que estes são lidos".

Quais as cenas criadas por Machado de Assis que mais o marcaram?

Além da cena anterior, uma passagem do conto O Espelho, em que o alferes Jacobina fica sozinho no sítio da tia e encontra sua "alma exterior" quando veste a farda da guarda nacional e se olha no espelho. "Essa alma ausente com a dona do sítio, dispersa e fugidia com os escravos, ei-la recolhida no espelho".

Que personagens são tão marcantes que ganharam vida própria na sua imaginação de leitor?

Muitos, até os personagens secundários são consistentes. Alguns dos mais relevantes e terríveis são dois loucos: Simão Bacamarte e Fortunato. A loucura é um dos grandes temas de Machado de Assis.

Qual livro dele mais o fez pensar?

Memórias Póstumas de

Brás Cubas.

Para qual dos seus livros você escreveria um prefácio?

Memorial de Aires.

Há algum texto de Machado que você considere injustiçado?

Memorial de Aires e Esaú e Jacó deveriam ser mais lidos. Gosto muito deste último, que foi uma das fontes literárias do Dois Irmãos.

Em Dom Casmurro, você acha que Capitu traiu Bentinho?

Acho que ambos atraíram os leitores e depois os traíram comuma dúvida eterna.

Entre os contos de Machado de Assis, quais você destacaria? Por quê?

Machado foi um dos maiores contistas desta América. Sem exagero, os melhores contos de Machado podem ser comparados aos melhores contos europeus. Depois de Parasita Azul, ele escreveu pequenas obras-primas: O Espelho, A Causa Secreta, Missa do Galo, Um Homem Célebre, Uns Braços, O Caso da Vara, Pai Contra Mãe... O conto Evolução é muito atual, traduz a baixeza do ambiente político brasileiro. Machado foi o antecessor brasileiro da obra de Jorge Luis Borges. E os dois foram grandes escritores neste subúrbio do mundo. Mas ambos provaram que o subúrbio, às vezes, pode ocupar um lugar central na literatura. Seria uma boa idéia criar o Instituto Machado de Assis em algumas capitais da Europa. Machado de Assis merece.

Urban Poet


The New York Times

 
 
Frank O'Hara


June 29, 2008

Urban Poet

 

SELECTED POEMS

By Frank O'Hara.

Edited by Mark Ford.

265 pp. Alfred A. Knopf. $30.

 

Death is often a good career move in poetry. No sooner are the obsequies over and the baked meats eaten than the publisher warms up the presses for a definitive edition of the collected poems, solemnly proofread down to the last querulous comma. Yet not all poets are well served by such an exhaustive volume, which may seal up a reputation forever — indeed, such a book has sometimes been called a tombstone. A collected poems may be cruelest to a poet whose genius shone as intermittently as a firefly.

At 40, Frank O'Hara was struck one night by a Jeep on a Fire Island beach. He died scarcely two years after the publication of "Lunch Poems" (1964), the volume that introduced him to most readers. As a poet he wrote so much — so wildly and unevenly much — it has been difficult to reach a just estimate of his wayward, influential talent. O'Hara was born in Baltimore and schooled at Harvard, a roommate of Edward Gorey and a friend of John Ashbery. He soon went to work at the Museum of Modern Art, where he rose to become an associate curator. As he had fallen in among a crowd of painters and poets that included Willem and Elaine de Kooning, Franz Kline, Larry Rivers, Helen Frankenthaler, Jackson Pollock, James Schuyler and Kenneth Koch, it was perhaps natural to make poems out of their parties, feuds, love affairs and drunken gossip.

By the poetic fashion of the day, it was not natural at all. In the heady atmosphere of postwar Manhattan, however, young poets hostile to the philistines surrounding them (even coddled artists believe their society philistine) envied the technical bravado and rebellious invention of the Abstract Expressionists. The poets of the New York School, as they were eventually known, were long on spontaneity and short on traditional literary effect. O'Hara later recollected, according to Brad Gooch's biography, "City Poet," that he and other young poets "divided our time between the literary bar, the San Remo, and the artists' bar, the Cedar Tavern. In the San Remo we argued and gossiped; in the Cedar we often wrote poems while listening to the painters argue and gossip. So far as I know nobody painted in the San Remo while they listened to the writers argue."

O'Hara's earliest poems, the work of Harvard and just after, sound like Wallace Stevens at the soda fountain ("Oh! kangaroos, sequins, chocolate sodas! / You really are beautiful! Pearls, / harmonicas, jujubes, aspirins!"). Jazzy, elated as an eel, a talent giddily in search of a manner, the poet scatters exclamation marks like penny candy. Posing as a wide-eyed innocent, O'Hara was drawn to illogic and absurdity, to modes of presence and display far from poets like Yeats and Eliot and Lowell. When Auden chose Ashbery's first volume for the Yale Series of Younger Poets, he wrote O'Hara a thoughtful rejection, saying, "I think you (and John, too, for that matter) must watch what is always the great danger with any 'surrealistic' style, namely of confusing authentic nonlogical relations which arouse wonder with accidental ones which arouse mere surprise and in the end fatigue."

The peculiar thing about O'Hara's "surrealistic" style is that it sounds not like early Ashbery but like late Ashbery. Here's O'Hara:

        How many trees and frying pans
I loved and lost! Guernica hollered look out!
but we were all busy hoping our eyes were talking
to Paul Klee. My mother and father asked me and
I told them from my tight blue pants we should
love only the stones, the sea, and heroic figures.
Wasted child! I'll club you on the shins!

Ashbery developed such insouciant nonsense into a charming anti-literary manner, but O'Hara soon grew bored with it. He was always looking for some vivid stimulus, preferably one a little outlandish — not a bad thing for a curator of modern painting, perhaps, but not necessarily a good one for a poet (O'Hara treated contemporary art with far more deliberation than he treated poetry). He began to make poetry from whatever happened around him — today, he might have written a blog. At the time, however, this preoccupation with the trivial, with the nothing of life that is nothing, seemed to jettison everything — meter, the calculated symbol, the grave poetic tone — associated with the manners of the art. However much one loves "Four Quartets" or "Lord Weary's Castle," it's refreshing to open O'Hara and read:

                                LeRoi comes in
and tells me Miles Davis was clubbed 12
times last night outside BIRDLAND by a cop
a lady asks us for a nickel for a terrible
disease but we don't give her one we
don't like terrible diseases, then
we go eat some fish and some ale it's
cool but crowded we don't like Lionel Trilling
we decide, we like Don Allen we don't like
Henry James so much we like Herman Melville
we don't want to be in the poets' walk in
San Francisco even we just want to be rich.

The headlong style, the lines broken like breadsticks, the punctuation limping along or missing entirely, capture the city's rush and welter, though O'Hara's physical world is curiously impoverished. Every poem seems to start from scratch. The back cover of "Lunch Poems" claimed that frequently O'Hara, "strolling through the noisy splintered glare of a Manhattan noon, has paused at a sample Olivetti to type up 30 or 40 lines of ruminations." This was most unlikely (even more so the notion that he had "withdrawn to a darkened ware- or firehouse to limn his computed misunderstandings of the eternal questions of life"); but the lie was as close to an "Ars Poetica" as the poet ever made.

O'Hara's instincts may have been anti-Romantic, but Wordsworth would have noticed that walking around Manhattan wasn't all that different from walking around some Lake District fell or other. You noticed one thing, then another; and perhaps you composed a few lines as you went. What O'Hara most objected to about poetry, however, was the hard work. A poet like Yeats turned his first thoughts, often in prose, into verse that disguised the labor of its passage ("A line will take us hours maybe; / Yet if it does not seem a moment's thought, / Our stitching and unstitching has been naught"). The labor was never meant to look laborious. O'Hara wanted his poems to look easy as a sewing machine but to take no work at all.

The poet's genius in these "I do this I do that" poems, as he called them, was to stop trying to have a point — the off-course thinking that was normally the means to a poem became the heady, helter-skelter end. He wrote compulsively about what moved him — his lovers, and avant-garde painting, and ballet and of course the movies (few poets have invoked Googie Withers and meant it). Wilde might have said that such things were too important not to write trivially about them; but O'Hara almost never faces up to the emptiness beneath this high life and low desire — if there's a subconscious revealed, it's very hard to detect. The poems describe an urban pastoral where no one has a real job, where martinis flow like nectar and where the days of Elysium are marked by the arrival of a new issue of New World Writing. Whitman's search for the democracy of the American demotic — what he called slang — had a century later become the hilarious musings of a vain young man about town (O'Hara wrote about homosexual life with a cheerful nonchalance rarely matched since;

Allen Ginsberg by contrast was slightly lugubrious about sex). It's hard to know whether Whitman, who took poetry seriously, would have laughed or wept.

Still, it's hard not to smile with appreciation at a poet who can write that he was lying abed when the sun woke him up to say:

                "Frankly I wanted to tell you
I like your poetry. I see a lot
on my rounds and you're okay. You may
not be the greatest thing on earth, but
you're different. Now, I've heard some
say you're crazy, they being excessively
calm themselves to my mind, and other
crazy poets think that you're a boring
reactionary. Not me."

The poem borrows from Vladimir Mayakovsky, from whom O'Hara also took his governing notion that the poem should wrap itself around the poet. Poetry needs to be taken down a peg once in a while; and O'Hara never condescended to the reader, unlike some slapstick poets now. He refused to apologize for his narcissism, his comic pretensions, his sometimes insufferable archness. These were the effects mastered and the price paid.

In the early '60s, there was a distinct falling-off in the verse — what had been effervescent as Champagne turned flat and stale, as sometimes happens in poets who begin with a lot of élan and little of anything else. O'Hara finished fewer and fewer poems, as if exhausted by the very scenes that once provoked him (almost two-thirds of this new edition of "Selected Poems" was written between 1954 and 1960). Still, some of the best poems of lunatic happenstance came in these years, including what is arguably his most famous poem, which ends

and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
LANA TURNER HAS COLLAPSED!
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up.

O'Hara's wonderful poems are all too easily drowned out by the vivifying mediocrity of the rest. At times the banalities pile up and overwhelm the poems — but then they were the poems. Rarely has an American poet so influential (two generations of urban poets have come out of O'Hara's shopping bag) written so many poems dull to anyone except his genial fanatics — his very notion of the aesthetic courted failure as a method. With an Oliver Goldsmith or a Thomas Gray, the mediocre results from a lack of gift, the good from lucky accident. When O'Hara was lucky, he was very lucky, because his method could not help but fail most of the time.

This long-needed new selection of O'Hara's poems, replacing Donald Allen's standard work of more than 30 years ago, has been thoughtfully edited by Mark Ford. He has kept about two-thirds of the old selection, adding 50 or so poems and a small sheaf of the poet's rambling prose statements and reminiscences, some of which sound more like Ernie Kovacs or Lenny Bruce than the author of these insouciantly unserious poems (O'Hara loathed academic hauteur, though he needn't have sounded so oafish about it). The selection is not perfect; Ford has included a grindingly self-conscious play as well as two long poems almost unreadable now, full of campy nonsense like "whoops-musicale (sei tu m'ami) ahhahahahaha / loppy di looploop" and "le bateleur! how wonderful / I'm so so so so so so so so so so happy," which sounds like Ezra Pound on happy pills. (The long poems are weakest not because the manner was difficult to sustain — O'Hara could have gone on forever — but because the manner became so irritating when sustained.) Still, among the shorter poems Ford has missed little of permanent value — I would have kept "Poem ('I ran through the snow like a young Czarevitch')" and "Mary Desti's Ass" — while remaining admirably fair-minded to O'Hara's variety. There may be serious intentions lodged in trivial things, but the poems often remain blissfully trivial.

It's hard to care about a lot of O'Hara's poems, but he doesn't want you to care. To accept the present as a fallen realm risks making it insignificant, although other poets of the period, especially Elizabeth Bishop, wrote deeply without losing their lightness of bearing. In his best poems — "Thinking of James Dean," "Why I Am Not a Painter," "On Seeing Larry Rivers' 'Washington Crossing the Delaware' at the Museum of Modern Art," "Ode: Salute to the French Negro Poets," "The Day Lady Died," "Les Luths," "Poem (Lana Turner has collapsed!)" and half a dozen others — O'Hara found something beyond that terrible vacancy he was trying so hard to fill. (His best poems are rarely his most characteristic or frenzied.) The style, though at times foolish and self-parodic, remains fresh 50 years later. However much these poems live in the world of Lowell's "tranquilized '50s," their giddiness in the face of despair, their animal pleasure in gossip, their false bravado, their frantic posturing and guilelessness and petty snobberies — and these were O'Hara's virtues — give us as much of a life as poetry can.