Talking About Adrienne Rich on the Radio

Earlier this month, I had the pleasure of discussing the life and work of poet and activist Adrienne Rich with Michael Enright on CBC Radio’s The Sunday Edition. You can listen to the segment, excerpted from the CBC podcast of the show, by clicking on the player below.

I have continued to read and reread Rich’s awe-inspiring body of work in the intervening weeks, and I expect I’ll post some reflections on particular poems and essays, and more broadly on Rich’s intertwining of poetry and politics, here soon.

Professor Ravit Reichman on “Memory’s Property” at Osgoode on February 27th

Come see  Professor Ravit Reichman speak on “Memory’s Property” at Osgoode’s Law.Arts.Culture colloquium on February 27th. Full details are below.

 

Professor Joseph Slaughter on “Pathetic Fallacies: Human Rights, the Humanities, and Being Human” at Osgoode on February 1st

Come see Professor Joseph Slaughter speak on “Pathetic Fallacies: Human Rights, the Humanities, and Being Human” at the inaugural session of Osgoode’s Law.Arts.Culture colloquium next week. Full details are below.

 

 

Take-Homes from the Museum of London’s Dickens Exhibition: An App & a Facsimile Manuscript

I’m immersed in Dickens these days, completing a draft of the chapter devoted to his 1844 copyright case in my book about writers’ lawsuits, and am consequently paying even more attention than I might otherwise have done to news of publications, exhibitions, and events related to the 200th anniversary of his birth.

This week, all the buzz is about Dickens and London, an exhibition opening today at the Museum of London which “recreat[es] the atmosphere of Victorian London through sound and projections,” thereby taking visitors “on a haunting journey to discover the city that inspired [Dickens'] writings.” On display are “paintings, photographs, costumes, and objects” including rarely seen hand-written manuscripts of Bleak House, David Copperfield, and Great Expectations. See the Telegraph, the Guardian, and BBC News for tantalizing previews.

But what is the Dickens fan who dwells far outside of London to do, besides book a flight immediately? Happily, there are a few elements of the exhibition that can be enjoyed at home.

First, there is Dickens: Dark London, an app for iPads and iPhones. Described as “an interactive graphic novel” based on Dickens’ late night walks about the city as described in Sketches by Boz, it includes narration by actor Mark Strong, and marvelously atmospheric drawings by illustrator David Foldvari. Also included is an 1860s map of the terrain overlaid with a current one for the viewer to navigate, as well as other interactive features. The first edition focuses on Seven Dials, with more material due to be added in subsequent editions each month through June 2012, echoing the serial publication by which most of Dickens’ work initially appeared. (NYT, Reuters)

Second, a facsimile edition of the original hand-written manuscript of Great Expectations is due to be published this month by Cambridge University Press. Crammed with crossings-out and scribbled-in additions, it enables a glimpse into Dickens’ creative process. See a detailed description and a slide show of some of its pages in the Guardian. For the frisson of seeing Dickens’ words in his own handwriting firsthand, a visit to the exhibition to see the original is still in order. But what luxury to be able to acquire a facsimile of it to study in leisure at home.

So, if a trip to London is not currently in the cards, a trip to the app store and/or the bookstore may provide some consolation.

Arresting Images: Mug shots from the OPP Museum

I visited the Helen McClung Gallery at the Ontario Archives this week to see Arresting Images: Mug shots from the OPP Museum. The title is, of course, a clever play on words, but “arresting” is also exactly the right descriptor. These are photographs from which one cannot look away.

The exhibition is comprised of 100 mug shots that span from 1886-1908 from the collection of the OPP (Ontario Provincial Police) Museum. The images on display are reproductions so that front (the photographs) and back (hand-written details about the person pictured and the crimes for which they were arrested) can be shown side-by-side. The details are extremely sketchy in some instances and extensive in others, including name, aliases, occupation, charge, age, height, weight, and sometimes even full Bertillon measurements such as the lengths of each ear.

Except in the case of the few that include tell-tale dual images of face-on and profile views (such as that of Lillie Williams above), absent those hand-written details, I couldn’t have guessed the purpose of the photographs without being told. At first glance, many appear to be old family portraits featuring men and women dressed in their Sunday best. Indeed, some of them are just that, photographs that cooperative family members gave to police. Others, though taken at the direction of police officers, were taken by commercial photographers in their studios when the police detachments in question had no photographic equipment of their own. Hence the fancy backdrops, formal poses, and artistic skill that mark them as studio portraits first and mug shots second (the latter sometimes a delayed realization when the viewer belatedly notes that the sitter is handcuffed to the chair in which he poses, as was the case for William Rae, in the image to the left of this paragraph).

But a number of those that were clearly taken by official police photographers are also very compelling portraits that can, in my view, hold their own alongside the work of the best portrait photographers. Their revelatory quality brought to mind the work of some of my favourite portrait photographers, for example, Mike Disfarmer and Richard Avedon.

But of course, these photographs have to be considered in context, not simply evaluated for their artistry, and here an element of discomfort creeps in, at least for this viewer. These were not willing sitters, photographed by consent. They had no choice but to comply, and to thereby have what were doubtless for many of them moments of shame and desperation recorded for posterity. The question of privacy certainly occurred to me as I peered into the window on those moments that the photographs provide. I’m not suggesting any violation of privacy laws. The OPP Museum website indicates that Canadian privacy laws were carefully observed in the compilation of the exhibition—this is why all of the images included are more than 100 years old. Nevertheless, here they are, 100 people, captured for all time at one of their worst moments, forever associated with crimes of which, in some instances, they were only suspected, never even charged, let alone convicted. And here I am, gawking at them.

Yet, as I said above, I couldn’t look away. Each picture hinted at a story and I wanted to know that story. Indeed, particularly where details were sketchy, the fiction writer in me wanted to make a story up, while the legal scholar in me wanted to hasten to the archives to learn more (although I gather that the OPP Museum archivists, who are much better qualified for the task, have already discovered all the information available in connection with each photograph). And beyond the individual human stories, there is much to be learned from this exhibition about the history of photography and of policing. Fascinating all round, and well worth a visit.

Arresting Images is only on display in Toronto until the end of this week. But it’s a travelling exhibition which is due to visit other Ontario cities, including Sault Ste. Marie and Thunder Bay, in the new year. For more details, and to see more of the images for yourself, click here. And to buy a copy of the exhibition catalogue, click here.

Call for Papers: Gardens of Justice

My colleague Ruth Buchanan directed me to a most interesting call for papers for a critical legal conference to be held in Stockholm in September 2012 on the theme of “Gardens of Justice.” A description and details appear below:

Confirmed plenary speakers:

Marianne Constable (Berkeley)
Angus McDonald (Staffordshire)
Panu Minkkinen (Helsinki)
Sundhya Pahuja (Melbourne)

The theme for next year’s Critical Legal Conference is “Gardens of Justice”. Although the theme may be interpreted in different ways, it suggests thinking about law and justice as a physical as well as a social environment, created for specific purposes, at a certain distance from society and yet as an integral part of it. The theme also invites you to think about justice as a concrete metaphor rather than an abstract concept. Just like any ordinary garden, legal institutions affect both people working in them and people who are just passing through their arrangements.

The theme “Gardens of Justice” further suggests a plurality of justice gardens that function together or that are at times at odds with each other. There are for instance well ordered French gardens, with meticulously trimmed plants and straight angles, but that also plays tricks on your perception. There are English gardens that simultaneously look natural – un-written – and well kept, inviting you to take a slow stroll or perhaps sit down and read a book. There are closed gardens, surrounded by fences, and with limited access for ordinary people. There are gardens organized around ruins, let’s call them Roman gardens, where you can get a sense of the historical past, but without feeling threatened by its strangeness. There are Japanese stone gardens made for meditation rather than movement. There are zoological gardens, where you can study all those animal species that do not have a proper sense of justice, no social contracts, no inequality and social injustice, and no legal systems. There is, indeed, the Jungle, a real or imaginary place outside the Gardens of Law.

The conference “Gardens of Justice” invites you to look at law and justice from a different and critical perspective:
- as a physical and spatializing structure;
- as a place where symbolic orders and disorders become visible and may be acted out;
- as therapy session;
- as social topography and/or geography;
- as gendered and gendering;
- as pluralistic and (un)fair;
- as political cartography on a global scale;
- as process and phantasy;
- as theatre and/or temple of justice;
- as social utopia and social dystopia;
- as nomos and/or physis.

We encourage you to make your own interpretations of the theme of “Gardens of Justice”. We invite individual papers and proposals for streams, roundtables and workshops. Proposals should consist of a short abstract (max 250 words). Deadline for proposal of streams, roundtables and workshops is 31 March 2012; and for individual papers 31 May 2012.

The conference venue is Kungliga Tekniska Högskolan (KTH) in Stockholm. The conference is organised by Skolan för datavetenskap och kommunikation, KTH; Juridiska institutionen, Lunds universitet; and Juridiska institutionen, Göteborgs universitet.

Organising committee: Matilda Arvidsson, Leila Brännström, Merima Bruncevic, and Leif Dahlberg.

Contact: dahlberg(at)csc.kth.se

Very literal of me, I know, but how could I resist posting beauteous pictures of actual gardens as an accompaniment to the foregoing? Above is an Italian garden amidst Roman ruins, and below are the gardens of Versailles, and a Japanese garden in Osaka, all public domain images borrowed from Wikimedia Commons.

New on my Bookshelf: Hark! A Vagrant by Kate Beaton

I’m a big fan of Kate Beaton’s Hark! A Vagrant comics, and am most pleased to have acquired a copy of her new book, published this Fall by Drawn & Quarterly.

It was Beaton’s comics poking fun at exalted literary figures such as the Brontë sisters that first caught my eye:

And I was further drawn in when I found that Beaton also appears to share my preoccupation with crime fiction classics such as Nancy Drew and Sherlock Holmes. See, for example, a few samples from a series that she did riffing on the covers of Nancy Drew novels:

And this one, in which she has a bit of fun with TV/movie portrayals of Holmes sidekick Watson:

If that’s not enough to pique the interest of legal readers, you’ll also find in Beaton’s oeuvre a plethora of comics devoted to history, some with a legal dimension (see this deft summation of the genesis of Oscar Wilde’s legal troubles), and many with a Canadian focus (for example, here on Confederation). Indeed, my colleague Sonia Lawrence tells me that she has contemplated using Beaton’s comics in her constitutional law class.

For more information about Kate Beaton and her book, you can find recent interviews on CBC and in the Paris Review, and enthusiastic reviews in the National Post and Quill & Quire.

New on my Bookshelf: The Ecstasy of Influence: nonfictions, etc. by Jonathan Lethem

The Ecstasy of Influence is a voluminous collection of Jonathan Lethem’s nonfiction, much of it previously published in scattered locations, some of it new. He covers a diverse range of subjects–a quick scan of the table of contents indicates that he touches on comics, postmodernism, used bookshops, Philip K. Dick, The Godfather, Bob Dylan, book tours, Shirley Jackson, Brooklyn, and more. There’s plenty here to interest fans of Lethem’s fiction, and bookish types generally.

But perhaps most likely to capture the attention of those of us interested in law and the arts is the section headed “Plagiarisms” that includes the title piece, an essay about plagiarism in which nearly every sentence is lifted from another writer (originally published in Harper’s Magazine in 2007); a follow-up piece reflecting on the stir that essay created; and other broad mediations on influence, appropriation, originality, and creativity.

For a bit of a preview of Lethem’s views on these and other literary matters, click here to read a recent interview with him conducted by Laura Miller for Salon. And I’m assuming that if you’re sufficiently interested in my bookshelves to read this post, you’ll also enjoy a peek at Lethem’s library. For that, click here to see fabulous photos of writers’ personal libraries, including Lethem’s, from Leah Price’s Unpacking My Library: Writers and Their Books, excerpted today in The New Yorker.

Of course, now I feel compelled to order Price’s book as well…

Midday Performance: VCP Show Choir @ Osgoode – November 23, 2011

See below for an invitation to a midday performance by Vanier College Productions’ “VCP Show Choir,” co-sponsored by Law.Arts.Culture @Osgoode and the Osgoode Community Enhancement Forum. VCP, composed of York students, including Osgoode students, will perform a mixture of Broadway showtunes and Top 40 hits from their upcoming concert.

This event is one of several scheduled throughout this school year to highlight the intersection of law, arts, and culture at Osgoode. Click on the following link to download a brochure that outlines the full program of lectures and performances: LawArtsCulture_Brochure.

New on my Bookshelf: Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville

I confess that there are a number of classics in the law and literature canon that I’ve not yet read, and I’ve resolved to fill in some of those gaps, beginning with Bartleby the Scrivener by Herman Melville. The number of law journal articles that reference the story, and the frequency with which it turns up on the syllabi of law and literature courses would be reason enough to begin there. But I have a more specific interest as well. I’ve been plotting an article about Louis Auchincloss’s short stories, many of which are set in Wall Street law firms, and, given that Melville’s Bartleby is subtitled “A Story of Wall Street,” it seems an antecedent that I ought to explore.

But even if I hadn’t already resolved to read Bartleby, a couple of recent mentions highlighting the continuing relevance of this mid-nineteenth century work would doubtless have piqued my interest. The first is in a thought-provoking essay by Hannah Gersen at The Millions in which she links Bartleby’s “peculiar form of rebellion” to the Occupy Wall Street protests, ultimately concluding: “If Occupy Wall Street has any goal, it should be to have the same effect that great literature has—to unsettle.” The second is a reference in a Forbes column by Victoria Pynchon in which she parallels Bartleby’s situation with the contemporary plight of legal secretaries. (Thanks to Sonia Lawrence who led me to the latter with an @OsgoodeIFLS tweet.)

The edition of Bartleby the Scrivener that I bought, pictured above, is an instalment in Melville House Publishing’s marvellous Art of the Novella series. They’re lovely small books that feel good in the hand, and the selection of titles is broad enough to appeal to any discerning reader. I note as well that there are others besides Bartleby that are likely be of interest to those who like a bit of law with their literature, including, for example: The Death of Ivan Ilych by Leo Tolstoy (translated by Ian Dreiblatt), The Man that Corrupted Hadleyburg by Mark Twain, and The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle. I already boast a few Melville House novellas in my collection, and I covet many more!

I will report here in due course on how I fare with Bartleby, and on if and how it connects with my Auchincloss reading.