All posts by matt

‘Dark’ as Light

At first glance, Netflix’s sci-fi/ thriller series Dark (2017- ) does not appear to be a text that changes thinking about environmental humanities, sustainability, and nuclear pasts/presents/futures. It is just a small budget, German produced, fictional series after all. However, Dark can be viewed as the ‘glue’ of this course, since the text represents virtually every major theme/concept of the seminar ranging from Rob Nixon’s concept of “slow violence,” with one of many examples being Regina Tiedemann’s cancer diagnosis, to protest music and culture, which can be seen in the 1986 Ulrich Nielson figure. As a result of the texts ability to represent many concepts, it has enabled me to change my thoughts about environmental humanities, sustainability and nuclear pasts/presents and futures. Most notably, this text helped me visualize Donna Haraway’s concept of “string figures” while at the same time raising my awareness of environmental humanities and the challenges that the field faces.

String figures are a subset of Haraway’s overarching ubiquitous figure, ‘SF,’ in her work Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Although she offers multiple definitions of what string figures are, since it is indeed multiple things, the simplest, yet most comprehensive definition is following “the threads where they lead in order to track them and find their tangles and patters crucial for saying with the trouble in real and particular places and times” (3). Haraway, also offers the concept of a ‘cat’s cradle’ to add a visual representation of string figures and how every aspect of the entire system is somehow related in one way or another. It is important to note that this is only the tip of the iceberg of Haraway’s string figure, which of course gives credence to the ubiquitous nature of string figures and SF in general. Of course, there are many literal string figures throughout the first season. ‘The strangers’ own string figure (detective wall) created in his hotel room at Waldhotel Winden

and the bunker string figure (photo wall) in the first and last episode of the season.

These are two examples among many, that often stick out to viewers, since they are often repeated and have lasting camera shots on them. It is also interesting to note that string played a vital role in enticing young Jonas to further pursue the mystery of the tunnels, with the string left on his bike in episode four, for example and eventually helped him find his way through the tunnels in episode six.

However, the string figures in Dark go beyond, the literal figures formed in the series. Besides highlighting aspects of small towns, where everything appears to be interconnected, like old feuds carrying on to present day, for example, the series also portrays string figures with the seemingly unrelated relationship between police investigations and investigators and the nuclear power plant. Torben Wöller, the police officer who wears an eye patch, is an inside man for the power plant, who plays a vital role in hindering the obtaining of a warrant to search the power plant and plays a role in removing the barrels of nuclear waste in preparation of the police  search through plant property. The viewers learn some of this and can infer the rest in episode nine during a short telephone conversation between the director of the plant, Aleksander Tiedemann (Boris Niewald), and Wöller. It is important to note that this is just one specific string of many, that are both known and unknown, that are related to these topics. As a result, there is not a direct cause-effect relationship, but rather a multiple causes, multiple effects relationship in which many things are interconnected.

This specific Wöller-Tiedemann string figure and the other factors of it are important for considering sustainability, nuclear pasts/presents/futures and especially environmental humanities as a whole. While considering addressing questions of sustainability, nuclear pasts/presents/futures and environmental humanities as a whole, it is important to keep in mind that string figures will be involved in all areas. Therefore, all aspects of string figures must be taken into consideration while addressing these concerns. Since environmental humanities is an overarching category that includes topics like sustainability and nuclear pasts/presents/futures, it can be viewed as the all encompassing string figure. Therefore, in order to truly address the mission of environmental humanities, one must first take a step back and assess every single aspect of the entire figure and the various things affecting it and be aware of potential repercussions of implementing a specific plan(s). This includes adjustments to the plan prior to its implementation in order to limit potential unintended and often negative repercussions. Lastly, one must be ready to address all consequences of implemented changes.

Besides serving as a text that many theories discussed in the course could be applied to, this text will shape my future by serving as a model of string figures beyond the scope of environmental humanities. Viewing this series made it extremely clear that string figures exist well beyond the Chthulucene and its trouble, especially since there are more than enough similarities between Winden and Conway, New Hampshire.  They exist everywhere and must be understood from as many angles as possible in order to effectively make progress/change in all areas, from promoting German and improving program retention to implementing a 2-1-2 fore-check or other systems and virtually every other aspect of personal and professional life.

Works cited:

Haraway, Donna Jeanne. Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Duke University Press, 2016.

Odar, Baran bo, and Jantje Friese. Dark, Season 1, episode 1-10, Netflix, 2017.

 

Forever Young

We are living in a time, where it often feels as if we are being presented with recycled culture, often in forms of re-makes or remixes. Younger generations are often unaware of the re-make/remix status of various media that they consume and even if they are aware of some factors, they are almost never aware of the entire story. Jay Z and Mr. Hudson’s Young Forever (2009) is a splendid example of this. Few who were not old enough to remember Alphaville’s Forever Young (1984) could have ever imagined that Young Forever took the chorus and ‘hook’ from an 80’s group. Even fewer could imagine that Alphaville is actually a German group whose lyrics “evoked images of nuclear destruction defiantly singing, ‘Let’s dance in style, let’s dance for a while/Heaven can wait, we’re only watching the skies/Hoping for the best but expecting the worst/Are you gonna drop the bomb or not’” (Klimke and Stapane [my printed version doesn’t have page numbers]), but this is indeed the truth as outlined in Nuclear Threats, Nuclear Fear, and the Cold War of the 1980s. Although keeping the exact same chorus and song text, that Klimke and Stapane indicated as ‘evoking images of nuclear destruction, Jay Z and Mr. Hudson’s version loses what the Alphaville version aimed to accomplish.

Clearly 2009 was drastically different than 1984. This is especially true when considering the lack of East-West Cold War tension and the threat of the ‘bomb.’ With that being said, however, some of the goals that activists, including musicians, set out to achieve during the 80s are still left largely unfinished and in some instances in much worse conditions than they were in the past. One aspect that is certainly left unfinished and that many would say is in a worse position now than it was then is the environment.  Jay Z and Mr. Hudson could have used their sampling to further a similar ‘anti-nuclear’ message to contemporary listeners, but decided to send their track in an entirely different direction from Alphaville’s and send a ‘live in the moment’ or ‘yolo’ type message with their track. At first glace, a Jay Z track about any kind of nuclear agenda seems unlikely. However, it is not all that uncommon to see rappers go outside of their ‘traditional’ zones. For example, Lil Dicky, who is known for rapping about lighter themes, like saving money, recently released Earth (2019) as a clear move to raise awareness about human impact on earth.

Even though Jay Z could have taken a more active stance in Young Forever, his and Mr. Hudson’s sampling represents something that is lacking in Nuclear Threats, Nuclear Fear, and the Cold War of the 1980s (or at least chapter five). This lacking refers to misinterpretations of music. Klimke and Stapane point out some strong arguments for how a variety of artists used their music to promote political messages. Young Forever takes the heart of Forever Young, quoting the exact same text that Klimke and Stapane highlight as critical to their evoking of images of nuclear destruction and gives the text an entirely different meaning just 25 years after its original publication. This is only one example of a text gaining a different meaning other than its intention. There are many musical texts that come to mind, like the Beastie Boys Fight for your Right (1986) and Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA (1984), both of which were received in different, almost opposite ways, than originally intended. Fight for your Right was intended to mock partying, but to this day remains a party anthem, while Born in the USA was meant to be a critique of the US/living situation of the main character, but quickly became seen as one of the ultimate American songs. Although the songs mentioned by Klimke and Stapane certainly sent the messages that they mentioned and were received by the audience, there is also the chance that the message could be altered as in the case of Young Forever or not received by the general public as in the case of Fight for your Right and Born to Run.

Works Cited:

Klimke, Martin and Laura Stapane. “From Artists from Peace to the Green Caterpillar”. Nuclear Threats, Nuclear Fears, and the Cold War of the 1980s, Cambridge University Press, 2017.

Little Emissaries

Prompt 5, #3

Yoko Tawada’s The Emissary (2018) can be seen as far-fetched for the contemporary reader. There are many instances within the work that are all, but inconceivable. For instance, the borders of Japan are closed to the outside world, its inhabitants are forbidden to travel abroad, and the internet ceased to exist at the start of the work. These are two things are almost inconceivable to contemporary readers, seeing as many consider globalization always present, even without willingness to participate in it. Even though some do not have access to the internet, few can consider living without access to the internet after exposure to it. Although these are only two examples, among many, that seem far-fetched for contemporary readers, there are many striking similarities between this work and Hitomi Kamanaka’s film Little Voices from Fukushima (2015). This is not to say that what is depicted in the film is the same as what is depicted in The Emissary, however Tawada’s depiction makes one wonder if the living circumstances described could be the future for the figures in Little Voices from Fukushima. Both works encompass notions of kin, care and catastrophe (although the catastrophe is never directly acknowledged in The Emissary like in the film). Both works encompass these notions because they take place in post catastrophe environments, again the catastrophe in The Emissary is assumed because of lack of direct acknowledgement, however with things like radiation, although rarely addressed, indicate that the setting is some sort of post catastrophe environment. Besides their settings both works focus on kin caring for their youngest kin as well. Two areas where there is striking similarity between the works are the anxiety/guilt of the elder kin caretakers and the food preparation for the youngest kin.

Examples of anxiety and guilt can be found throughout both works as caretakers come to terms with the effects that their decisions and events, even those that are out of there control, start to impact their children. In Little Voices from Fukushima most of the guilt and anxiety comes from caretakers not being able to move outside of the contaminated area/returning to the contaminated area.  This anxiety and guilt isbfound within the “Haha Rangers,” a group of mothers dedicated to improving the circumstances that their children are living in. Ruri Sasaki, one of the central figures of the film and the Haha Rangers, states within the first few minutes of meeting her and her family “while we were evacuated, I felt bad about the people who stayed on…I felt tremendous guilt. And I feel guilty towards my kids by staying here” (6:25). Statements similar to this one by Ruri Sasaki occur throughout the film and are made by her or her fellow Rangers. Although there are multiple caretaker figures in The Emissary, there is only one caretaker figure that is consistently followed throughout the work, Yoshiro. Like Ruri and the Haha Rangers, Yoshiro constantly worries about the health of Mumei, his great-grandson, for whom he is the primary caretaker. Although Yoshiro does not have the same guilt as some of the Haha Rangers, since he was not given the opportunity to bring Mumei into a safer environment, he still fears his great-grandsons future like the Haha Rangers do for their own children. “Though he tried not to think the worst about Mumei’s future, he often found himself sick with worry, with high tides of misery sweeping over him day and night” (Tawada 18). Also like the Haha Rangers, his fear and anxiety is practically a constant fixture of the work and can be seen throughout.

One aspect that causes fear and anxiety throughout both works is food and eating. Although the struggles associated with food and eating vary slightly between the works.  The Haha Rangers from Little Voices from Fukushima struggle to give their children food and drink that is not (heavily) contaminated. Yoshiro in The Emissary struggles with this as well, but he has an added worry because he needs to find food that didn’t cause negative symptoms like trouble breathing (kiwi), paralysis of the tongue (lemon juice), heartburn (spinach) and dizziness (shiitake mushrooms) (Tawada 45). Where Ruri needs to measure the cesium level in the milk that her children consume, Yoshiro must prepare Mumei’s food in a specific manner because even things like drinking juice can last 15 minutes, which was no easy task for Mumei (Tawada 33). Besides the added steps in food preparation, both figures, Ruri and Yoshiro, struggle to food that was suitable for their charges. Fortunately, for Ruri farmers whose crops are not contaminated send their excess crops to her village for the families to eat. However, this is not so simple for Yoshiro and other caregivers because things like fruit, never get sent to their area (near Tokyo) and as a result they must search “with bloodshot eyes for fruit for their great-grandchildren…wander[ing] like ghosts from market to market” (Tawada 45).

These are only two of many similarities between the two works. Where Little Voices from Fukushima calls viewers’ attention to the current situation, as of 2015, inside of the contaminated area The Emissary, taking place generations after a catastrophe, presents an eerily plausible future for people like the Sasaki family and the Haha Rangers. In Tawada’s work, things done to improve their children’s health like recuperation trips to non-contaminated areas, and importing food from non-contaminated, are virtually impossible due to travel restrictions and the shipping/trade of goods. Therefore, it causes the reader to consider what can be done now in order to prevent aspects of this presented future from happening.

 

Sources:

Little Voices from Fukushima. Directed by Hitomi Kamanaka, BunBun Films, 7 March 2015

Yoko Tawada. The Emissary. New Directions Paperbook, 2018.

 

Truth and Fact

 

Prompt 3 #3

After reading John Treat’s Writing Ground Zero one can immediately begin to see the differences between truth and fact. Although Treat makes it extremely clear that the challenge of depicting truth and fact is not only a problem that is particular to atomic-bomb literature, it has long been a concern of modern writing (34) it is certainly interesting to consider truth and fact in atomic bomb literature. While making his main points about truth and fact on page 34, Treat references some atomic-bomb authors who have grappled with these themes in their works. Specifically, Treat references Toyoshima Yoshio and Ōta Yōko, author of City of Corpses in Hiroshima Three Witnesses, and their struggles to depict fact and truth in their works. Treat highlights Yōko’s attempt to address this problem in her preface to the second edition, which Yōko added during the books republishing in 1950. Yōko indicated in the preface that even though she experienced the bomb first hand, that she had “done some research” (147) and we see that research throughout the work in various forms (i.e. statistics, quotes from newspaper clippings, etc.).  Although this is effective and certainly represents a mixture of fact and truth, Hayashi Kyōko’s Two Grave Markers in The Atomic Bomb: Voices from Hiroshima and Nagasaki, another piece of atomic-bomb literature, addresses fact and truth, in a different, but more effective manner than Yōko. Two Grave Markers is more effective since it explicitly makes the reader more attune to question whether fact or truth is being shared with them.

Instead of using the author’s introduction in order to make readers aware of areas of fact (research) and truth (first person accounts/hearsay stories) like in Yōko’s work, Kyōko employs the third person to tell Wakako’s survivor story of the atomic bombing of “city N.” Unlike Yōko Kyōko weaves seemingly unnecessary comments/side-bars into Wakako’s story to make the reader aware of truth and fact. The best example of this comes on pages 33 and 34. “I heard that a missionary school student tried to help a nun who was crushed under the church. When she ran toward the building, the nun chided the girl and said, Don’t come, it’s all right, run away quickly. The nun’s robe caught fire…and the girl ran away crying, they say” Later, Wakako mumbles to herself “that story is a fake.” This statement is followed with the claim that the “story was an embellished fabrication, not the truth” (34).

Wakko’s initial reaction and the following commentary serves as justification to why the missionary student story was a fabrication. “Those who lived had just barely managed to save their lives. Who would have deliberately run back to help others? There could not possibly have been time to worry about the others. The girl student who fled home probably fabricated the story when recounting her experiences to her parents, the image of the nun she had forsaken haunting her eyes. It must be that she wanted to believe in her own good will. The made-up story moved Obatachan, brought tears to Tsune’s eyes, and would do the same to many other well meaning people. As the days pass, the lie will penetrate the girl’s body and she herself will begin to believe it. For the first time, then, she will be liberated from the nun” (34).

It is obvious that anecdote about the missionary school student and the following quote are relatable to Wakako’s own experience and her difficulties with coming to terms with what not only the general events that occurred, but also the events that occurred between Wakako and her friend Yoko in “N city” on August 9th. However, this challenging of the anecdote serves as a clear example for the reader to question not only elements of the story and actions of Wakako, but all literature that encompasses first person and like first person accounts. Of course challenging elements of a text is something that all good readers do, but it is something that is often lacking when reading literature like City of Corpses and Two Grave Markers. The fact that Two Grave Markers gives an in depth example of challenging the authenticity of a story serves as a reminder to the reader that they should always be wary of personal accounts. Since some humans are the only things that survive atomic atrocities, they are a necessary aspect of knowing and understanding atomic atrocities. Therefore Hayashi Kyōko’s Two Grave Markers and its missionary school student anecdote plays an important role in reading similar literature for sifting through elements of fact and truth.

Sources:

“Introduction and Chapter 1.” Writing Ground Zero: Japanese Literature and the Atomic Bomb, by John Whittier Treat, The University of Chicago Press, 1995, pp. 1–45.

Minear, Richard H. Hiroshima: Three Witnesses. Princeton Univ. Press, 1990.

Selden, Kyoko Iriye, and Mark Selden. The Atomic Bomb: Voices from Hiroshima and Nagasaki. M.E. Sharpe, 1989.