Category: The Cultural Front

  • In her latest book, Not “A Nation of Immigrants”: Settler Colonialism, White Supremacy, and a History of Erasure and Exclusion, world-renowned scholar and activist Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz writes, “The United States has never been ‘a nation of immigrants.’ It has always been a settler state with a core of descendants from the original colonial settlers, that is, primarily Anglo-Saxons, Scots Irish, and German. The vortex of settler colonialism sucked immigrants through a kind of seasoning process of Americanization, not as rigid and organized as the ‘seasoning’ of Africans, which rendered them into human commodities, but effective nonetheless.”

    The mythology of the United States as “a nation of immigrants” has a complex political history. And studying the history of how and why this mythology emerged can actually tell us a lot more about America than the myth itself. In this extensive and wide-ranging conversation, TRNN Editor-in-Chief Maximillian Alvarez and Dunbar-Ortiz trace the history of this particular national mythology and the political functions it serves in the larger project of US settler colonialism, economic domination, and military imperialism.

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz grew up in rural Oklahoma in a tenant farming family. She has been active in the international Indigenous movement for more than 4 decades and is known for her lifelong commitment to national and international social justice issues. She is the winner of the 2017 Lannan Cultural Freedom Prize, and she has authored and edited many books, including An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States, which won the 2015 American Book Award, and Loaded: A Disarming History of the Second Amendment.

    Pre-Production/Studio/Post Production: Cameron Granadino


    Transcript

    Maximillian Alvarez:        Welcome everyone to The Real News Network. My name is Maximillian Alvarez. I’m the editor-in-chief here at The Real News, and it’s so great to have y’all with us. “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” These, as we all know, are the immortal lines to Emma Lazarus’s famous poem which is enshrined on a bronze plaque on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty.

    Often seen as a beacon of welcome to people around the world, the poem reaffirms one of the most sacred principles of our national mythology. America, we have been reminded throughout our lives, is a nation of immigrants. A new world where freedom and opportunity seekers from all corners of the globe can come to pursue their potential and live in a nation that is ostensibly defined by its commitment to safeguarding citizens’ right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

    This is certainly the national mythology that I grew up with, and it is certainly what drew my ancestors to this country from Mexico, Italy, and elsewhere. It should be no surprise, however, that the mythology of America as a nation of immigrants has a very complex political history. And studying the history of how and why this mythology emerged can actually tell us a lot more about America than the myth itself. That is precisely what our guest today, the brilliant Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz has done in a masterful new book entitled Not “A Nation of Immigrants”: Settler Colonialism, White Supremacy, and a History of Erasure and Exclusion, which is out now from Beacon Press.

    And in this book, which is right here and that I would highly recommend that everyone go check out, Roxanne writes, “The United States has never been a nation of immigrants. It has always been a settler state with a core of descendants from the original colonial settlers. That is, primarily Anglo-Saxons, Scots-Irish, and German. The vortex of settler colonialism sucked immigrants through a seasoning process of Americanization, not as rigid and organized as the ‘seasoning of Africans, which rendered them into human commodities but effective nonetheless.’”

    And to dig into this book, to unpack as she does so beautifully in the book this national mythology and the political uses that it serves, I’m honored to be joined by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz herself today on The Real News Network. For those who don’t know, Roxanne is someone who needs no introduction, but I will give you a short one right now. Roxanne grew up in rural Oklahoma in a tenant farming family. She has been active in the international Indigenous movement for more than four decades and is known for her lifelong commitment to national and international social justice issues.

    She is the world renowned historian winner of the 2017 Lannan Cultural Freedom Prize, and she has authored and edited numerous books including An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States, which won the 2015 American Book Award, and Loaded: A Disarming History of the Second Amendment. Roxanne, thank you so much for joining me today.

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:     Thank you, Maximillian. It’s wonderful to be back on Real Time with you.

    Maximillian Alvarez:        Well, we’re so honored to have you back here. And yeah, my mind is just going in a million different directions after reading your book. And I think the real test will be keeping us focused on the essential points and ultimately encouraging viewers and listeners to go out, read the book, and let us know what y’all think about it. And so I figured maybe by way of entering this important, vast world that you explore in your book, I was wondering if you could walk us through the origins of this nation of immigrants myth.

    Because I know that for me growing up it just felt like just such an integral, almost ontological part of what America was. But you detail how it’s actually a relatively new phenomenon and it’s been shaped in very important ways for important reasons. So I guess where did this mythology of America as a nation of immigrants come from and how was it constructed?

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:      Even when I had railed against this for many years, I wrote what I call a rant – But back at that time in the early 2000s they called it a blog – That Monthly Review published, “Stop Saying this is a Nation of Immigrants.” I, myself, until I took it on as a project a few years ago did not know that it just hadn’t… It was just one of those sayings that you don’t know where it really came from, or some songs, like folk songs, that it’s just always been around. But actually it was in my youth. You’re much younger than me.

    So clearly you would think they had been there all your life and even before, but I’m much older. And I was pretty aware in that period of time, or soon after, of it in the ’60s came pretty quickly and I was very involved. I did not know that it was actually dated 1958, that it had an origin date. And that was, it was a book published by John F. Kennedy in 1958 when he was Senator from Massachusetts and preparing to run for president. And his father had always dreamed, I think the older son was supposed to be the one but he was killed in World War II, so John was the second in line to promote to that role.

    So it was a really long chance and he barely won because never before had there been a child of immigrants – And certainly not a Catholic – Ever been president. And that was a big hurdle for him to overcome. So I think it was more of a piece of propaganda for building up to, for normalizing immigration. Every other president had been either Anglo or Scots-Irish, Anglo-American or Scots-Irish American. The Scots-Irish were the people who colonized us, did settler colonialism in Ulster. Still today a major issue, the Troubles of Ulster, Northern Ireland breaks out into war now and then, but they only got 50/50 there.

    But many of those seasoned settler colonialists were among the early settlers and the 13 colonies and especially populated Appalachia, like 90% of Appalachia today are descendants. So these characteristics, I don’t think that Kennedy, from the book, I don’t get the idea that he understood US history at all. So he just deals mainly with Irish famine refugees and the tragedy and sorrows and how they became great citizens and became police and so forth, upstanding citizens, naming them and building up a case basically for Irish immigration.

    So he mentions others but only in a few words about the Chinese of course. The first immigration act of the United States was in 1883 and it was the exclusion of Chinese, this Chinese exclusion act. He apparently didn’t know that, hadn’t bothered to look up any history of immigration to the United States. And he says of the Chinese they came with their gentle dreams, whereas they were treated horribly, they were undocumented. They had no rights whatsoever. They were exploited, they were killed, deported, everything. And until the 1940s when there was some opening and then 1965 opened to more Asian immigration.

    So it’s really a propaganda piece, but I was very interested in seeing that not only did he not understand settler colonialism, he made little of Native people. He has a longer passage about Native people than any other people building up to calling them the first immigrants. He actually writes a myth that is a myth in Ireland. There are many myths like this of who discovered America. So this white nationalist myth that comes from Celtic myth that the people who were here when the British settlers came were not the Aborigines, not the original people.

    They were violent people who entered and killed off all the original people, who may have come from Ireland. So that’s one issue throughout the book, the self-Indigenizing of people. So he builds on that as credibility that we’re really not immigrants, we’re just returning to our former homeland. So it’s a crazy book. And then he ends up calling Native Americans scattered tribes without governments and that they were immigrants. He calls them the first immigrants. So that was very interesting to me. So reading this book completely changed the trajectory of how I was going to write the book and deal with it.

    It gave me so much more to work with and to clarify that this was something… And I know that period of time very well. It’s when I was coming of age, the 1950s, post World War II. And of course, the ’60s, being involved in that. We dealt with racism, we dealt with Native Red Power, the land base, all these things with feminism that had not been dealt with before. But we really weren’t dealing with settler colonialism. And of course I wasn’t, even though my Dunbar in my family, my father’s family, were descendants of these Scots-Irish from Appalachia. They made the trek first out of Kentucky and then to Missouri and then to Oklahoma, and many then scattered to the west with the dust bowl and so forth.

    So they’re everywhere. So I knew that history very well but I thought it was normal. There were also immigrants around. Polish, Czech and German immigrants. In Oklahoma there were also Italian and others, but in central Oklahoma where I was, it was German, Czech. And in fact there’s a town that I grew up nine miles from that’s called the Czech capital of the world, Yukon, Oklahoma. It’s predominantly Czech descendants. So I knew I definitely had a concept of immigration. These were immigrants.

    Most of them were Catholic and I was a Southern Baptist and Southern Baptists hated Catholics, considered them evil, basically evil. And yet my best friend was a Polish Catholic and of course my family was different. They got along fine with the Catholic people. Of course, we were odd in that my grandfather, my Dunbar grandfather, had been a socialist organizer right there in the county where I grew up. And most of the socialists that started the Socialist Party, not so much the leadership but the actual on-the-ground organizers, were German immigrants and not Anglo or Scots.

    So we were a little different than that. And that my father growing up like that just grew up without, well, my grandfather was also an atheist, a non-believer, and my father was too. So I feel privileged in that sense that I didn’t become prejudiced. Anti-Black racism is another thing. But I didn’t think badly of immigrants, but I had no concept of settler colonialism. I just knew there was a difference between us that we were somewhat more authentic. That they were people to be treated with respect, but they weren’t really Americans. That was a mental state.

    I’ve reviewed my thinking in my mind when I was younger when I wrote a memoir called Red Dirt: Growing Up Okie trying to really be clear about that. And that came in handy writing this book in terms of being able to read minds a little bit, how settlers look at… White nationalists are mostly descended from these original settlers and do not consider anyone who’s ever come as an immigrant after the 1850s as legitimately, whether they get citizenship or not, they’re not fully Americans in their view.

    So that’s the extreme view but a lot of people don’t understand that that’s what these armed white nationalists are about. They claim that white genocide is taking place. And when they say white they mean basically Anglo or Scots or German. They don’t really consider… Some people get through and get honorary status, like the guy who founded the Proud Boys is actually a child of Cuban exiles. And he is very dark. But they pass, but they’re the minority because they have to agree with this assumption of the superiority of the settler.

    Maximillian Alvarez:     Well, that was one of the really deeply existential experiences that I had reading your book. I’ve talked about this a lot on my show, Working People, where I’ve talked a lot about my own family history and my own upbringing. But I, as a first generation Chicano growing up in Southern California, I grew up very conservative, very Catholic. And in Orange County, I had a lot of white friends. There were a lot of weird ways that that conservatism, the want to be accepted, and that first generation aspect of our family, it really created some interesting stuff there where you felt like we were doing it the right way and the immigrants or refugees who were crossing the border were doing it the wrong way.

    You mentioned that word, authenticity. I hadn’t put it in those terms but I feel looking back there was this constant identity crisis that was circling the drain of authenticity, a drain that was always empty at the center because I never knew what being an authentic American was. But I knew that whatever it was I didn’t have it within me, I had to perform it somehow.

    So there are a lot of revelations that came for me personally reading your book. But not just personally, but really historically, as you just walked us through. I didn’t quite realize that the nation of immigrants mythology that seemed to define so much of my family’s history, so much of what I understood America to be, was such a recent creation in our national discourse. I wanted to follow up on that because I think that by laying out that history, you show to readers like myself that this was something that was created in a certain political context. Obviously for someone like John F. Kennedy as an Irish Catholic aspirant to becoming president there was a very clear political motivation to reshaping that national mythology to open up a path to building a political coalition that could actually vote him into being president.

    So I wanted to ask how we got from there to this, like you said, this really targeted, and I guess understandable, propaganda effort for someone like John F. Kennedy to run as president, be taken seriously, and ultimately be voted in, how and why we ended up seizing on that mythology and absorbing it into the larger political schema of the United States, this larger imperialist project. I guess, how did that happen?

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:    I really looked at that period a lot. The 1950s, the civil rights – I call it revolution – The Black civil rights revolution that was really born in the South former Confederacy was truly a revolution. And within a year of the founding of the United Nations, and the first act of the United Nations was, it was the prohibition of genocide treaty, the UN treaty. Paul Robson and other outstanding, W. E. B. Du Bois was still alive and was a part of this We Charge Genocide and took a manifesto to the UN.

    Native Americans had been expelled as such in 1953 with the elimination, the actual elimination act to lose all their status as Native people and land base. And it took 20 years of Red Power to reverse that. And a great deal was lost in the process. But it could happen again just with the stroke of a pen because they’re under a colonial system of trusteeship. They don’t actually own their communal lands. So colonialism still existed. So here’s the competition that came out of World War II with communism.

    China became communist in 1949. And of course the Bolshevik Revolution was already 40 years old and clearly seemed like it was here to stay at the time, but the US did everything it could to destroy it and in fact was successful in doing so. But this presented a huge challenge and especially with TV coming into play, pictures, video, actual film footage of cops bloodying unarmed protesters in the South, like white cops. And these images that were going over, the Soviets were using this as propaganda. It was truth but it really was propaganda used to, as you know, and [in Spanish meant] truth.

    But it was shameful and of course they set up Air America to publicize everything they were doing that was so good. And also they were rushing to cover up the history of slavery, the history of genocide, all of these things, which the rest of the world didn’t know about and largely still don’t because US propaganda is everywhere. And the official story is never breached at any governmental level. Well, until Black and Native people and also Chicanos, farm workers, started going to the United Nations in the, Black people actually in the 1950s.

    I started working with the International Indian Treaty Council in ’74 and we went to the UN in ’77. So this was really late, but it was such a shock to people from all over the world, including very socialist, still socialist governments, and national liberation movements in the 1970s that they had no idea. They knew there had been Indians, they were all wiped out and there weren’t very many of them, and that the US was a great democracy and that they certainly learned differently quickly with Angola and the counterrevolutions, the counterinsurgencies that the US did in Africa.

    Of course, it’s everywhere. The Caribbean, overthrowing coups. So people learned that they were imperialists but they didn’t really know the history of settler colonialism. They still thought it was a democracy that was going off the track. That’s what the US wanted to present is to cover up that history. So I think the Nation of Immigrants, the reason it got picked up, and there’s a reason why John F. Kennedy wrote it, I’m sure he wasn’t thinking all those things because he didn’t know it himself. He was thinking about getting elected. But why was it picked up by US historians who are really people who are US citizens who do US history?

    US historians who have US citizenship who do European history or Asian history, they usually do a very good job. They’re pretty good even on Latin American history these days or in the last 30 years or so. But if they do US history to fit into that and to prosper, to get tenure, to get high level jobs, to publish books, they really have to stay within the mythology, the origin of the story. They had to change that origin story when they’re up against an adversary that actually has studied the United States and knows these things. I mean just all they have to do is show the film footage.

    When I was in Cuba on the Venceremos brigade in 1970, they showed us some of the Black and white footage that aired in Cuba in the early 1960s. They were awful. I have watched a lot of these horrible things. It really politicized me seeing the treatment of people. That’s really how I got politicized was opposing this violence against Black people that was becoming obvious, and of course the wonderful mass movements. So they were seeing this and they showed it to us. I remembered some of it that I had actually seen myself, but it was very raw.

    At that time TV, they didn’t have very much programming. So they were just filming everything and putting it all up. That changed. It became very manicured and programmed and everything, but it’s one way the Vietnam war was exposed was really the press. They were just filming it. Dan Rather watching them with the Zippo lighter setting fire to a hut, a Vietnamese peasant. It was all filmed. So there was that window and controlling that. I think creating multiculturalism in education was the liberal solution because liberals and conservatives had their differences about domestic politics.

    But to this day when it comes to war and foreign policy, they have very few differences. You notice with the announcement of Biden that he’s going to go ahead and stay in Mexico, Trump’s policies. He already had several others that he has simply reenacted. But the border’s always the same, Republican or Democrat. Whatever they say, they’re all doing the same thing: exclusion, deportation, detention. So that never changes.

    So this was a very bipartisan thing at first, creating this new mythology. One of the things that really spurred me to write the book was this 2015 blockbuster, Hamilton, the musical. Alexander Hamilton, the musical, Lin Manuel Miranda’s blockbuster. It’s six years now and it still sells out every performance. It was made into a major motion picture and it is the reenactment of A Nation of Immigrants. It stunned me. I could tell from just how people were reacting to it. It was like liberals.

    Now this is where liberals and conservatives separated on this because they are so verbally anti-immigrant, especially anti the border. So the Nation of Immigrants was really… Liberals carried it through and included multiculturalism, because you probably remember in the ’90s, the textbook wars and keeping multiculturalism out. The textbooks that were coming out had the first chapter, just like Kennedy, of Native Americans as the first immigrants. It was always the first chapter. Of course, they had left out Native Americans completely before that, but they made them the first immigrants. The whole multicultural thing, that’s when white nationalism really became at the top levels of government with Gingrich and those other really strange people in the legislature in the 1990s.

    But It really started in the 1950s with the Brown versus Board of Education decision 1953 of school desegregation. Up to that time, everything was white and mostly Anglo. The entire government – Tiny exceptions, one or two state governments, state legislatures, Congress, down to school boards, police forces. Everything was run at the highest levels and even pretty far down by white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestants, and is still. Jim Crow was fully intact at the end of World War II. Of course there were people who had been fighting it. W.E.B. Du Bois founded NAACP in 1901. So it was already 50 years old by mid century. It was the work of intellectuals like that and lawyers that they brought that case, that desegregation case, and they won. This was very clearly, the Supreme Court has always been political.

    It goes with what the system needs in order to reflect, to keep everything intact, to keep the structures of racial capitalism going and intact while doing whatever has to be done for show, to not be condemned for it. But you had this backlash, not only the violence that we saw on the ground, but the formation of the John Birch Society, a self-identified white nationalist organization. The citizens councils that formed in almost every state. When I first took a stand, I moved to the city my last year of high school and that’s where I saw civil rights demonstrations. Young people doing sit-ins at the big flashy drug store, Katz Drug Store downtown, and Central High, the trade school I went to, was downtown. So I would actually walk by. I didn’t join. I didn’t think I could. I didn’t have any idea, but I really admired them. Of course, they were on the news and everything. So this was like 1955.

    I don’t think I even knew until then about the desegregation decision. Growing up in rural Oklahoma, you don’t really get that level of news of something like that, but a lot of censorship of the press and Oklahoma oil and gas. It’s really almost like a Bautista or Somoza regime in Oklahoma. Everything having to do with communists was banned. If Marx’s Kapital is found, even in someone’s home, in their private library, they could be arrested. Those laws were all in place while I was growing up. So after the red success in Oklahoma in the early part of the 20th century they really took over, drove everyone out and clamped down really hard. So it’s pretty much still like that today.

    So growing up there it was spotty and I wanted to get out, just get out of there. Which, I got married and we did come to San Francisco to do something without getting hurt or killed or banned or whatever. So that was probably a cowardly thing to do. It was impossible to function in the ’50s there. So that was going on. That white nationalism of the John Birch Society spawned other organizations. Soon, you had the Second Amendment Foundation which was Harlon Carter’s outfit. You probably found this part very interesting. I don’t know if you knew about it, that he had been a border guard.

    His father was a border guard and he was the border chief of Operation Wetback in the 1950s, the rounding up and deportation of Mexicans. Some of them, quite a few of them actually, citizens. They just rounded up every Mexican. It was pretty much all for show that they were doing something while the growers all were recruiting undocumented Mexicans to do the agricultural work. So it was a show, but nevertheless he was in charge of it and pretty well known. When he retired from the border as a border chief, he had already been a member of the National Rifle Association, but he started this organization and white nationalist enclave of Eastern Washington State called the Second Amendment Foundation. The Second Amendment was never ever an issue.

    They then set out and it took four years. They took over the National Rifle Association. So that’s when the National Rifle Association became a white nationalist organization. So Harlon Carter’s horrible. He was a real monster as a border guard. He also killed a Mexican boy that was actually in El Paso in the same town. When he was 15, he shot and killed this Mexican boy. He was tried and did some prison, but it was overthrown and wiped off his record. So he became a border chief. So that gives you an idea of who works the border.

    Maximillian Alvarez:     Yeah. I did not know that detail until I read it in your book. I was like, oh, that makes sense. That tracks. So this is what I mean when I said there are just so many rich and important and interesting details in the book that really help me and others as readers, I think, again, see how these sorts of truths that we grew up with about what America is, who it is, and what the goal of the American project is supposed to be. We start to see how artificially constructed those have been, the motivations for pushing this or that type of mythology. I wanted to fold that into a question about how your analysis really does lay bare. It’s like, if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.

    So that’s what you’re doing with America. You’re like, okay, America says it’s this, but here’s, I’m going to look at the machine and basically tell you what the function is. You really land on this analysis of the United States as a perpetual settle, colonialist project that coheres into what you refer to as the fiscal military state. So not this beacon of democracy, but it’s actually an engine designed to do a very specific thing in its territory here in the United States and then increasingly around the world. So I wanted to ask about that, but I guess one thing I wanted to mention is I think one thing that was really revealing in your book was the existential and cultural function that the nation of immigrants mythology serves. It was even implicit in a lot of what you were saying.

    I think about the Americana and all the culture that I grew up with that defined America for me. I think about lines like, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray,” and then it ends with like, “Please don’t take my sunshine away.” There’s almost deep felt fear in the American soul that recognizes somewhere the original crime of like coming to a continent, genociding an entire population, trying as much as possible to erase their very presence, and then trying retroactively to rewrite the history of how they got there and how you got there. There’s almost this perpetual need for absolution that Americans have to forgive themselves for that original sin that will never go away. It feels like the nation of immigrants was the one of the perfect ways that we landed on to do that. Does that make sense?

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:      Yeah, absolutely. I think it was, at the higher levels, that it was thought out definitely as propaganda in competition with communism which was offering equality and food and housing and public goods, public ownership of things, and things that people really want and long for but you don’t enunciate. The cult of individualism and making it on your own in the United States, it makes it seem actually unpatriotic. I mean, that’s actually how it’s framed, is unpatriotic to want those things. So people have this gnawing hunger, this gnawing guilt. I think it’s a very mentally ill country. I say that, I do psychoanalysis. I mean, I have a psychoanalyst. I don’t do it myself. I receive it.

    She actually confirms that, she says I’ve made her see it, that she didn’t really get how deep and why so many people turn up with such problems and fears. I think this of course for immigrants and the children of immigrants is a constant fear of being contingent. I think that word, which I hardly ever saw in literature until I started reading memoirs by more recent immigrants. Mostly from Africa and South Asia and their feelings of contingency that just never goes away even when they’re third or fourth generation. It still hangs on. With multiculturalism, I remember people suddenly, it was very interesting that everyone was working so hard to become white.

    Noel Ignatiev’s wonderful book on how the Irish became white. Of course they were already white but they were considered the other and of course Catholic, but they became the police. They became slave work and slave patrols and anti-Black racism is always a tool of proving your affinity with whiteness. So these things get picked up as survival mechanisms by immigrants. I don’t think it’s some evil thing in them. That to survive in the United States, you have to have some level of whiteness culturally. Even if you can’t achieve it physically, that you can become an honorary white person. I think that immigrants are put on that path of aspiring to that. That creates huge problems. Intergenerational, losing the language.

    When I moved to San Francisco and very near Chinatown – What we call Chinatown – And mostly had Chinese neighbors, I would hear a lot of generations, elderly people speaking. I really loved the sound of the language I was hearing. It was, I found out, mostly Cantonese. Then at San Francisco State, my fellow, some Chinese students, they didn’t speak the language. I would ask, why? It sounds so beautiful. They said, well, no, it holds us back. And I think I heard that from Chicanos too, that their families who… They were mostly when I was at UCLA, mostly by then first and second generation from Mexico and they too, their families, they spoke this Spanglish, a mixed Chicano language which people started writing poetry. I mean, it’s a dialect in itself.

    But that deprivation of a mother tongue, it just seems really cruel. It’s so hard to learn a language, a second language when you’re an adult and to just have it as a gift, because you can speak dozens of languages, that doesn’t take away from any one of them. So that really struck me. I didn’t know that because I hadn’t been around that many people. I knew the Germans, those immigrants. They didn’t speak their languages, the people my age, but I made nothing of it. But seeing people who were so different from the Chinese people. Hearing their language and really liking the feel of their families and their extended families, and of course the food and Chinese New Year and everything, I was just fascinated.

    There was this shame, and the people my age. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I think that’s so tragic. It’s generations and generations of people who have suffered trying to become accepted and Americanized. I have to tell them, it’s never going to work. You have to change this country. You can’t do it by numbers. It’s structural. That’s what critical race theory is and why they’re so afraid of it, the right wing, because it says that this is built into every structure that exists in the United States and that it’s not going to go away with training, diversity training.

    You can become the nicest person in the world and spew about your anti-racism and read every book and it’s not going to change anything, probably not even you, because so much of it is automatic and not something you really have control over unless you’re reeducated. Ethnic studies has gone a long way. I think that’s one of the things I worked on that we brought out of the ’60s was ethnic studies. I think it has. I noticed, until the pandemic, I was traveling a lot and speaking mostly at universities, undergraduate students. The diversity impressed me so much, but how loving they were with each other. How, that word woke – I like that word myself – How woke they were to everything. They don’t know as much about Native people, but they just immediately grasp it.

    There is something else going on. We’ll get to that later, what we can think about for the future. But it’s horrible processing how Columbus was used and is still a problem as a cult figure to Americanize the Italians, of posing him as the first founder. That they’re actually descended from Columbus and he was Italian and Catholic so therefore they are original people. This, they have to find a way to make themselves – And it worked, it pretty much worked. I mean, most Italian people now are third or fourth generation, identify as white, and there’s some real monsters like Papao and Giuliani and all that made it to the top.

    And I know Cuomo tried, there was an idea of presidency but that hasn’t done so well. I mean, there’s still a scrutiny that goes on even generations on. Yeah. But I do think the center of it, and of course James Baldwin was very important to my understanding of this at a really deep level. I started reading James Baldwin when I was in high school, his early work and his novels. But I’ve learned much more and even very recently with Raoul Peck’s film on I Am Not Your Negro part unpublished things he wrote. But that this is a structural thing that immigrants, he talked a lot about immigrants. When I was researching I hadn’t really noticed his emphasis on immigrants. He was really trying to talk to immigrants and have them not be complicit in anti-Black racism.

    And so it’s really hard. I mean, I think it’s hard for people to, they look, especially it’s not them so much as their children. They want them to be able to adjust and do well in school and go to college and be able to do a good job and not become a radical and get themselves in trouble. And it’s understandable human passions that it’s so cruel in the United States, this [being] fed anti-Black racism and hatred, and hatred for people at the border. Hardly any objection to the treatment of the Haitians, who I just learned are all in a horrible detention camp in the desert in New Mexico and no one even knows they’re there, their families or anyone, they don’t even know why they’re there. So it’s this cruelty that goes on that that we tolerate, is largely tolerated, that they should get in the legal way, you know?

    Maximillian Alvarez:     Well, right. I mean, like I was saying earlier, I recognize that and identify with that. I can look back at my own history and see a lot of myself in what you were just saying. I know that there were plenty of times where you’re a teenager, you want to be popular. You want to be accepted. You want the cool kids to think that you’re one of them and when those cool kids are white, one of the ways that you can do that as a Brown person is to be self-deprecating. Play into the jokes about Mexicans like I did. But also you’re very much encouraged to participate in that culture of punching sideways and punching downwards.

    So you make fun of the Black students, the East Asian students. It’s like we’re all throwing barbs at each other for our white friends’ amusement and you gain a purchase on whiteness through that. You gain that acceptance and even if you don’t realize that that’s what you’re doing. And it took a lot of time, I think, for me to gradually decouple myself from that culture and all that good stuff, but I definitely recognize it and what you’re saying and can think back to how it shaped who I was earlier in my life. But like you were saying from Baldwin to the very beginnings of where we started with this talk, I think that what you do show so beautifully in this book is that understanding that this is baked into the structure of what America is.

    And what America, as a government and in the government’s relationship to the land, to its people, to the economy, what it was designed to do. And I could talk to you about this all day, but I don’t want to take liberties with your time, so I was thinking about folding this in. Since right now everyone is still talking about critical race theory and rejecting that structural analysis that sees what you lay out in this book that settler colonialism, white supremacy, patriarchy, that these are part of how America has grown into what it is. This is part of how the structures that govern our lives were fashioned in the first place and by whom they were fashioned and upon whose graves they were fashioned. So that’s where I found the concept of seeing America as this fiscal military state was really enlightening for me.

    It tore away, again, the mythology and helped me see what this machine that we call the United States of America was really built to do and how effectively it does that. I wanted to ask if you could talk a little bit about what that concept does for your book, why it’s so important for understanding the United States? And then we can wrap up and think about what we’ve learned over the past centuries of how to combat that and how we can do that in the 21st century.

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:      Yeah. I was so happy to find that concept. There’s a wonderful law review article, it’s 95 pages long but it’s free on the internet. It’s called “The Savage Constitution” by a now Stanford Law professor, Greg Ablavsky, and he uses that term. He studies the Constitution. It’s interesting. I see in my Indigenous people’s history of the United States and even before that I’ve tried to deal with the cult of the Constitution. I’ve seen it as dating to the Puritans and having to write everything down and the Pilgrims and this Protestant, this Calvinism, because that’s what I was taught or learned from or gleaned from history. But it’s so ephemeral, I am a historical materialist and I want to get something a little bit clearer about this.

    And though those roots may be so, it’s in the writing of the Constitution that before they wrote the Constitution, they wrote the Northwest Ordinance and published it. It was the Continental Congress that produced it. The Founding Fathers produced the Northwest Ordinance. And the Northwest Ordinance is the essence of the Constitution. It was folded in when the Constitution was written, it was actually passed by the Congress as the structure. I know US historians avoid it. There’s a wonderful younger – I mean he’s not young-young, he’s younger than me – Historian at University of Oregon, Jeffrey Ostler, who has written a book last year, published a book. He had already published a couple of articles that really are good. The book came up after my book had already gone to production and so I cite it but I wasn’t able to use it, but Ablavsky, I already had this down from this fiscal military state.

    It means, it’s a technical term, it was used by British historians to describe the British Empire, its whole mechanism. And it translates into, out of the legalese, it translates into a state made for war. So it’s a, in the case of the United States, it’s a capitalist state made for war. It’s structured as a capitalist state, of course, Alexander Hamilton was the key person in this, the bank, the banking, he was one of the few people who had knowledge of economics because his benefactor in the Caribbean had trained him in accounting. Of course the accounting was accounting the slave trade, accounting the commodities of bodies. But he had it down and he was very key to that, some of the others were more ideal, looking at the Roman Empire and Greeks.

    And he had it down to what this should be and it made sense to all of them because what they had in mind is clear in the Northwest Ordinance, with the maps, is the conquest of the continent. They had maps drawing. It was not exactly as accurate as surveying later but the continental outline to get to the Pacific, to get to dominating the trade with China, because China had more commodities to trade than any other country or monarchy in the world. So the China trade that started in the medieval age, Europeans wanted to control China, and so they inherited this.

    This is like a part of their DNA as Brits. And so that was their concept of conquering the continent and that was completed, pretty much. I mean, the wars weren’t over, they went on to in the 1890s of the resistance of Native people in all those areas. But with the annexation through a two-year, horrible, violent, deadly counter-insurgent war invasion, occupation of Mexico, they took the northern half of Mexico. So that got them to the Pacific. That was, California was their goal but they of course took the whole thing.

    And so that didn’t take very long. After the writing of the Constitution it was very clear. And the Northwest Ordinance had the map so they immediately started surveying in the Ohio territory, which the British had the British Proclamation of 1763 after the French and Indian war, forbade any British settlers to go over the proclamation line. That is into the Appalachians or over it into the Ohio Valley. From the Great Lakes to the Gulf was at that time called the Ohio Valley, the Northwest territory. They weren’t talking about Washington, Oregon. They’re talking about Ohio territory in the Northwest. That was the Northwest at the time. So They started immediately and very scientifically surveying and already George Washington had been taking survey routine teams into that area starting in the 1720s.

    That’s how he made his fortune was mapping and then making deeds of sale of which he didn’t own and the British, it was British claimed territory, but there were no British settlers there, there were no British traders. There were still very large numbers of Native villages and there were, of course, farmers, who had corn, beans, and squash and they did get involved in the fur trade with the French. If you look at Native American history it made changes in them but it was not occupied. It was not settler colonialism. And so they couldn’t go in there and those who went in had gone in illegally, like George Washington, buying these, he had sold these deeds. That’s how he became a multimillionaire, was by selling fake deeds to settlers that thought they could go claim that land.

    So there was a huge investment by the Founding Fathers. They were all involved in one way or another in land speculation but he was the top one. George Washington was known as a surveyor. I actually, as a child, learning this in third or fourth grade, I found, because then there were pictures of him, all dressed looking like a really rich person with braids and boots and the hair, some kind of hairpiece. And he looked like a Monarch and I had a cousin who’s a surveyor and he was always muddy with boots on and tromping around. It wasn’t exactly a prestigious job and I couldn’t figure that out. George Washington is a surveyor and he dresses like that. How does he keep so clean?

    Of course, he was only leading his militia of surveyors. He wasn’t actually doing the work. And it took me a long time to figure that out. But he was known as the surveyor. So they had a vested interest in breaking with Britain because they all had financial interest. Not only that, but of course the continuation of child slavery and the expansion of it because already the Southern Colonies were moving into the large, what became the Cotton Kingdom, one of the richest agricultural areas, one of the seven great agricultural areas of the world that Native Americans created. And they had come from Mesoamerica and done the same thing as had happened in Mesoamerica. And they had their eyes on that for expansion of plantation, cotton as a commodity. So that capitalism was, there are all these books out now making clear that the Cotton Kingdom was the platform for the formation of not pre-capitalism, but capitalism, that it was not a return to a medieval practice like Eugene Genovese tried to make it. It was actually the fount of capitalism.

    Just the value of those human bodies, enslaved bodies, were greater than all other assets of the United States put together at that time. So this is the fiscal military state. You have to deal both with slavery and you have to deal with settler colonialism. They had to create settler colonialism to occupy the country because Native people were not just wandering tribes, they had governments, they quickly formed armies. They hadn’t, the farmers anyway, east of the Mississippi, are all farmers. And in the Southwest they didn’t really have to have armies or anything. Farmers don’t like war. But as these adversaries came in and tried to take their land, they began building military confederations like Tecumseh’s and so forth. And so it took them a hundred years, a little more than a hundred years from the Northwest Ordinance and the Constitution to fully control the continent.

    It’s a hundred years of war, unending, daily, every minute. I don’t think there’s a minute in US history that anyone can find actually dating back to the first colony and the founding of the US to the present that the United States is not making war somewhere, including at this time, not declared war but wars at this time, they’re still fighting the Moros in the Philippines And all over in Africa involved. They have military, they still have military in Iraq and they have mercenaries and in Afghanistan. So there’s always… They can’t do without war. That is, it’s built in. And it’s the only thing that usually unites. It’s been problematic since the ’60s and the anti-imperialism of the ’60s, the anti-Vietnam war, which didn’t really turn into a true anti-imperialist movement. William McMahon Williams, the great so-called diplomatic historian, but he was the historian of US imperialism.

    His wonderful book, Imperialism As A Way of Life. His 1980 book is a must-read. He lists all of the interventions, thousands of them. Actually right after, at the time of independence, the US by 1810 had warships all over the world in every dock, opening so-called free trade. They had two wars against Muslims and Tripoli. This was in 1806 and 1808 under Jefferson, two wars that are never taught about. The so-called Barbary Wars. This is where the Marines get their song from, The Halls of Montezuma. They wrote it after taking Mexico City. They wrote it there and from The Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli. And why there’s no curiosity, what’s Tripoli doing in there? I mean, it’s just, it is this fiscal military state from the very beginning and from the beginning of Mexico’s independence, actually before that, it was very clear. The writing was on the wall because the war went on for 10 years, the war against Spain and Mexico. And it was pretty devastated at the end.

    So from 1821 they started moving into Mexico. They call it Texas, but it was Mexico. The slave owners were moving into and then claiming as their own. And most people think that Texas really did become independent in the state of the United States, but that was not in any way “legal” until the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, Texas was included. And so even that history that should be so clear is muddied with obfuscations of reality.

    So I think the fiscal military, a concept and then understanding, you have to take a magnifying glass to the Constitution after you read the Northwest Ordinance and see what they’re writing into it in a legalistic language, and then you break it down and I’m still trying to do that work. “The Savage Constitution” does it and he’s written more, Ablavsky’s written even more articles since then. He also works very closely with the Native land rights, that he is very clear that the taking of the continent meant taking of land and that land was for agribusiness and cash crops, commodities, not yeoman farmers, his idea of the yeoman farmer that Jefferson considered himself with his 300 slaves.

    Maximillian Alvarez:     Right. Yeah and, I mean, I think that it’s such an important way to look at, again, the American project, the American machine, how it’s been constructed and what it’s been constructed to do. And as you just said, then you start to see how whether we’re talking about the nation of immigrants, whether we’re talking about the constructed fabulous mythology of Christopher Columbus as the first American as a way for Italian Americans to gain a purchase on their right to be American citizens and be accepted into that white dominant culture, yada yada, yada, you start to see how that mythology, as you just said, works to obfuscate the nature of the beast we’re living in. And I think that that is one of the really unsettling but I think generative points that I took away from your book was I started to think is like, wow, even the concept of America as a nation of immigrants. We’ve already seen in my lifetime how the fiscal military state has used that when it is useful to it and discards it when it no longer needs it. So you got Trump as a perfect example.

    But then as you mentioned, this is very much bipartisan. Kamala Harris is over there in Central America, telling everyone, don’t come to the United States, the supposed nation of immigrants, is telling people to get the hell out. So it’s like that mythology when it works to, yeah, like counteract the Soviet Union exposing the racial crimes of the United States and if it can be folded into the body of the fiscal military state to serve those ends, it will do so.

    But when we enter a 2st century where the needs of that fiscal military state are perhaps different, I almost had whiplash with how quickly we as a culture dropped that mythology and started reverting back to this who gets to be here, who’s the original, who’s the authentic Americans? Who doesn’t appreciate being here enough? And I think that’s where I wanted to end up, because I could genuinely talk to you about this all day, but I don’t want to keep you any longer than I have to. So I think by way of rounding out. I guess… My climate anxiety is through the roof most days.

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:       Me too.

    Maximillian Alvarez:           Right. I mean, and we’ve already seen, we’re already living in the dystopian hell that we have to look forward to for the rest of the century and we know what’s going to come with it. As the climate crisis gets worse, caused by the machinations of capitalism and its dominant powers like the United States and the industries that it serves, yada yada, yada. As all of that comes to a boiling point, ruins the shared planet that we all live on, creates mass famine, mass weather events that create climate refugees, the harried race for resources becomes ever more intense between national powers and the impulse…

    I think with Trump, we basically got a preview of what we have in store for the rest of the century, where the impulse is going to be hoard as many resources as we can in the global North, put the walls up even higher, like this paradigm of gatedness like we are on the gated island, the barbarians are at the gates, we don’t care how they got here, we don’t care if we caused their displacement, we have to hold on to what is ours, please don’t take my sunshine away comes back and haunts the American project. And I guess, I just am very worried. About that political paradigm that easily gives way to eco-fascism, how quick people are to take that up and how quick people are to want to be on that life raft. To want to kick others off so that we can all stay on it.

    That is where we are going to be encouraged to go every day for the rest of our lives. And I guess I just wanted to ask, like building on everything that you write in your book, building on all that you yourself have learned through years and decades of research and activism and meeting so many people who are on the ground fighting the good fight even when times seem to be their darkest, how do we forge ahead into this very scary future and fight for a way of being on this planet, being together that doesn’t replay the crimes of the fiscal military state that we’ve been living in? How do we get out of this? How do we fight this? I guess, is my last question to you, Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz.

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:          Yeah. It was very discouraging writing this book during… I finally had time, everything was canceled, all travel canceled and all last year. So I could no longer avoid sitting down and actually writing the book. But writing it during that time and witnessing… And I have a very compromised respiratory system, being a lifelong asthmatic. I was born with asthma. And just wishing people just wear your mask. I couldn’t go outside – And this is San Francisco, they weren’t wearing their masks, they weren’t… And then when the vaccines came, nowhere near herd immunity. We have 66% of people fully vaccinated in the country and it needs to be 85 or 90 to really have herd immunity. So the individualism, the hoarding that took place early on, those scenes of people buying toilet paper. We still haven’t figured out the psychology of that, but I found myself thinking, well, maybe I need a lot of toilet paper for some reason.

    I mean, it is kind of addictive, it’s like the individualism. You know that unless you’re in a community, which I fortunately am, or close extended family, you really are on your own, and that’s most people in the country. Something like, I live alone, and actually something like 55% of the population live single, as a single person, alone. And there may be children, but not old enough to help out that much. So it was really discouraging and then encouraging seeing the Black Lives Matter protests and people responding, and the way they carried it out, being very careful in terms of the pandemic, were all wearing masks and all distancing, and there was no super spreading in those demonstrations. And I never felt comfortable myself joining in just because of my own health status.

    But I did pay attention to that, because I was worried about a lot of the young people I know. But it was discouraging. And then with Glasgow coming up and people preparing for all last year, trying to prepare for some really ramped up policies that could at least try to halt, I mean, we’ve already had so much destruction and some of it’s not reversible and it’s coming much faster than predicted, and to find the United States refusing to sign the zero carbon goal because I guess of Joe Manchin. They changed their mind because Joe Manchin objected, being owner of coal mines. And so capitalism is killing us, I think that’s the message we have to get out. And I also think that for the left, there’s a problem because I’d also experienced and studied the left, including my idealized grandfather and the early socialist movement which I admire so much.

    And that’s before I knew that Chinese were excluded and Black people were excluded, it was white. And that the left in the United States has developed really by immigrants and the industrial period of the 1880s and 1890s. These are largely immigrant populations who were working as most of the Anglo, Scots people, with the exception of say the Appalachian coal miners. And there, there were of course a lot of Irish and Italian immigrants as well. So these were… The goal of workers was not to really form a working class revolution, but to be able to buy property and to become middle class. And that’s what they did. By the 1950s the government sponsored the G.I. housing and housing for white people and the suburbs popped up and everything.

    So really we’ve never had an authentic working class movement, I think, in the United States because the goal of settlers and then immigrants that have to pick this up is that they will own property or own a small business or, if they could, a large business, a corporation. And this is not the goal of French workers or British workers. I think we don’t understand how settler colonialism kills the possibility of worker solidarity. And then of course how the unions were structured as business unions with their own healthcare plan actually spoiled the possibility of national healthcare. Which, all the European countries and Britain, immediately that was the union’s demand in those places. And here it was business unions. So they have an interest in their health plans and they’re making money, they lobby against Obamacare, the public option, because their unions are actually business unions, they’re corporations.

    But we have to have a workers’ movement. There are workers, they’re workers. I mean, but this gets to consciousness. And I think that’s what the left refuses to deal with. The materialism, they also have used the European template for organizing without dealing with settler colonialism. Just simply not knowing the history of the United States. Very brilliant leftists, some with PhDs and law degrees or even workers, highly sophisticated, do not understand that you cannot change a society if you do not know every detail of its structure. And even Marx says this, at certain points in trying to develop any kind of real change towards socialism, that ideology becomes central. And I think that’s where we are and that’s what the left won’t deal with.

    They think they have to patronize white workers. In fact workers, the image people see when they say the word workers, is a white man. And that’s based on the fact that the good jobs and factories were all given to white men with unions and not the Mexican migrant worker, not the Filipino migrant worker, not the Amazon warehouse workers. Fortunately, they’re trying to form a union. And only recently have service work. There is organizing there. But it’s still in this template of the business union, there’s no, let’s say IWW concept or syndicate, no syndicalism which most countries have, there’s syndicates.

    So I think there’s no way to change a society without the majority of the population. And one thing about Trump is that we could start counting heads, who’s a hardcore that we’re probably not going to be able to change unless we rip them out of their settings before they’re 12 years old, which I think we should try to do, or at least teenagers, organize them out of the situations they’re in instead of letting the evangelicals get them or the white nationalists in these white communities.

    But I think the left is very… And it’s even hard to say there’s a unified left, but the many lefts that I know about and I’ve experienced many and been in some. And I mean in some of the organizations, and over time and at the present, and I see what’s lacking is a lot of analysis gets done. I worked with a group in the 1990s, some of whom, out of that is, one, Black Lives Matter really came out of those really intensive meetings, discussions, and presentations. But I was a single person, I wasn’t the only person dwelling on anti-imperialism, most of the Mexican Americans involved were certainly… And Filipinos and others. But talking about settler colonialism is a different thing than anti-imperialism and understanding the history of the country.

    And it just didn’t… I haven’t found a way on the left. I can go talk to college students and I think they actually get it. But we need people committed on the left, committed people who really commit our lives to making change. These are the people that need to take it on and really look clearly at US history and not keep substantiating what they already have as a template for how you organize. And I honestly don’t hear many people even talking about revolution anymore, or actually, the United States seems to be falling apart on its own. But we don’t really have a plan other than some people, I think erroneously and stupidly, are buying guns. More guns is not going to be the answer to these structural problems that we have and that we have to dismantle.

    It would be nice if it were that simple. But it’s going to take mass movements like we saw last summer. And that was very focused on one thing. And it was important for that, but we can do that with climate change. I think we can build a left that gets educated about the history of the United States and combine that with the catastrophe that’s ahead if we don’t make change. And to name capitalism, and not just name it but break it down, how it works, and not put an adjective in front of it, financial capitalism, disaster capitalism, or this or that capital. It’s just capitalism. Because that implies it can be improved, and it can’t. It wore out any… I never agreed with Marx that it had its role in creating levels of production.

    I never agreed with that. I think we would’ve been better off had capitalism never been invented. Or there would’ve been no imperialism if there hadn’t been capitalism, they were tied together. And that was what they call the primitive accumulation of capital was the looting of the Americas. So this is how it was made possible. And I think that there’s just a hopelessness that has to be overcome, not with optimism, but with determination to figure it out. It’s not really that hard to figure out.

    Maximillian Alvarez:        I think that’s a great note for us to wrap up on. That is world-renowned historian and activist, author Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz. Author of many books, including Not “A Nation of Immigrants”: Settler Colonialism, White Supremacy, And A History Of Erasure and Exclusion, out now with Beacon Press, which everyone should go check out. Roxanne, thank you so much for taking this time to talk with me and sharing your brilliance so generously. I really, really appreciate it.

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:        Thank you so much, Max. It’s such a pleasure because you have real life experiences that you bring to the questions that made a very rich conversation.

    Maximillian Alvarez:         Thank you. It was really an honor to have you on. And I hope we can have more conversations in the future –

    Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz:        Yes.

    Maximillian Alvarez:      …But I know I’ve taken up more than enough of your time today. So again, thank you so much for joining me. And for everyone watching, this is Maxmillian Alvarez for The Real News Network. Before you go, please head on over to therealnews.com/support. Become a monthly sustainer of our work so we can keep bringing you important coverage and conversations just like this. Thank you so much for watching.

    This post was originally published on The Real News Network.

  • Jacobin logo

    This story originally appeared in Jacobin on Jan. 2, 2022. It is shared here with permission.

    The times we live in are both shot through with menace and impossibly stupid. This is one of the defining features of this political era, and yet I can’t think of many movies in the post-2016 years that capture this dynamic, or even bother to try, like Adam McKay’s Don’t Look Up.

    The marquee productions about capital “P” politics in the Donald Trump years had plenty of the former. Vehicles like The Post and The Comey Rule filtered the news we all sat around watching and reading after the 2016 election through the lens of a 1970s-style political thriller, and were celebrated for flattering establishment biases. The heroes were institutions like the press and the FBI, nobly defending norms and democracy from a Nixonian assault unparalleled in its danger. It’s no coincidence this came at a time when much of the establishment had convinced themselves they were on the verge of uncovering a sprawling espionage scandal and dictatorial conspiracy all in one.

    There’s no secret evil conspiracy, at least in the salacious form these Trump-era stories imagined; the villains are a self-obsessed, blinkered elite, and it’s their greed, venality, and stupidity that lead them to evil decisions.

    Don’t Look Up feels a much better fit for the reality we’re actually living through. There’s no villainous authoritarian ending democracy; as in our world, American democracy in the film has already been smothered under the weight of oligarch money and corporate profit-chasing. There’s no secret evil conspiracy, at least in the salacious form these Trump-era stories imagined; the villains are a self-obsessed, blinkered elite, and it’s their greed, venality, and stupidity that lead them to evil decisions.

    If nothing else, the discourse now swirling around the movie has probably clued you in that it’s an allegory for climate disaster. Astronomers Kate Dibiasky (Jennifer Lawrence) and Randall Mindy (Leonardo DiCaprio) discover a comet the size of Mount Everest making a beeline for Earth, and determine (after desperately triple-checking and rechecking) that it’s set to cause an apocalyptic event of the kind that killed the dinosaurs in only six months’ time. They soon fly to Washington to brief the president.

    Climate change has long been compared to an approaching asteroid by incredulous scientists and activists who ask, as they tear their hair out, if we’d respond with the same denial and delay to the kind of planetary disaster immortalized in end-of-history blockbusters like Armageddon. Those movies have conditioned us to assume that no, we’d put together a plucky team of characters, rough around the edges but with a lot of heart, who, with the help of modern science and unlimited government resources, would win out over the space rock. Their only obstacles would be their own personal issues, their inability to work as a team, and the immensity of the task itself.

    Mindy becomes intoxicated with his own microcelebrity and becomes little more than a government flack. Dibiasky checks out of the struggle entirely in sullen apathy. It’s remembering what truly matters—human connection, relationships, the small pleasures like sitting around a dinner table together—that brings them back from the brink, even as the planet slides over it.

    McKay and David Sirota, the journalist, Jacobin contributor, and former Bernie Sanders speechwriter who cowrote the film’s story, flip that timeworn scenario on its head. What if stopping the actual disaster wasn’t the hardest part? What if the hardest part was convincing anyone to even bother trying?

    Dibiasky and Mindy are frustrated every step of the way in their efforts. The head of NASA—a political donor, we later learn, with no background in astronomy—at first doesn’t believe it. President Orlean (Meryl Streep) and her dimwit son and chief of staff, Jason (Jonah Hill), initially blow them off, then look for a rationale to delay doing anything about it; the midterms are coming up, after all. The press is mostly uninterested, and the one establishment paper that treats the story as the blockbuster it is quickly gives up on it after the White House disputes the science. The duo lands on a popular morning show, but an exasperated Dibiasky is ignored and mocked after what looks like an on-air meltdown.

    Things don’t get much easier once the government finally does take the threat seriously, a version of what might happen if Michael Bay’s oil drillers had to operate in our world of cultural polarization, runaway greed, and social-media-driven psychosis. In all its absurdity, the movie is a depressingly accurate portrayal of this specific era, from the vapid media landscape and the foibles of social media stardom to its mock political ad of a suburban mother earnestly telling the camera that “the jobs the comet’s gonna create sound great.”

    All of this would be moot if the movie was no good. Thankfully, the movie is rooted in terrific comedic performances from a stacked cast—the two leads in particular—who keep us caring about their characters even as they dare us to give up on them. Mindy becomes intoxicated with his own microcelebrity and becomes little more than a government flack. Dibiasky checks out of the struggle entirely in sullen apathy. It’s remembering what truly matters—human connection, relationships, the small pleasures like sitting around a dinner table together—that brings them back from the brink, even as the planet slides over it. The result is at once entertaining, tense, and devastating.

    Rejecting the Anti-Populist Turn

    The film thankfully swerves away from one of the worst impulses of post-Trump discourse and its anti-populist tendencies. Critics have charged the filmmakers with smugness and contempt for ordinary people, portraying a country too stupid to save itself. They’re wrong.

    The people of the world of Don’t Look Up decidedly aren’t the problem. Bar patrons coax the horrible truth about the government’s inaction out of our heroes and respond with concern and violent outrage. A sweet Midwestern Christian boy played by Timothée Chalamet casually assumes the comet isn’t real, but changes his mind with evidence and exceedingly gentle persuasion. At a Trump-like rally, Jason implores the crowd that they “Don’t look up,” until a doughy, red-hatted attendee does, and sees the comet clearly streaking right at them. “Fucking lied to us!” he yells.

    In a reversal of the prevailing liberal narrative since 2016 — which either casts all ordinary Trump voters as irredeemable, bigoted villains, to the point of fantasizing that they lose their health insurance, or dumps the blame on nonvoters for failing their politicians — it’s the country’s elites and institutions, including the media, that are the real problem in Don’t Look Up. All corrupted by money, they mislead, manipulate, and distract the rest of us from what really matters. Maybe this is why the film’s been met with surprising hostility from a lot of the mainstream press, which have complained chiefly about the film’s lack of subtlety.

    The Strangelove comparisons stick because both movies do a similar thing: They take a fundamentally absurd, nonsensical piece of logic that’s central to our politics … and let them play out in front of us.

    But subtlety isn’t always a virtue. Dr. Strangelove, the Cold War classic that McKay’s film has been widely and justifiably compared to, was hardly a masterclass in understatement, featuring a US military advised by a Nazi scientist with a sentient, murderous hand, and its final shot of a cowboy pilot practically orgasming on top of a falling nuclear warhead. There are different ways to make a movie, and not every climate film has to be Paul Schrader’s excellent First Reformed. The impressive streaming numbers for Don’t Look Up so far suggest McKay and Sirota’s approach has been the right one for their purposes of shaking the public by the shoulders and begging them to pay attention.

    I’m also not convinced the movie is as aggressively obvious as its critics charge. My immediate thought after watching the movie went to its restraint. If you’re not one of the relative minority of people hyperaware of climate change or familiar with the movie before it came out, there’s little to suggest its central allegory, short of a handful of brief shots of polar bears and other wildlife in end-of-the-world montages. It’s all ambiguous enough that, both anecdotally and based on the movie’s reception so far, a not insignificant chunk of people thought it was actually about the pandemic. Critics would do well to remember most people aren’t highly educated, habitual news consumers like themselves.

    The Strangelove comparisons stick because both movies do a similar thing: They take a fundamentally absurd, nonsensical piece of logic that’s central to our politics—the nuclear policy of mutually assured destruction in Kubrick’s film and the denial of and even profit-making delusions toward the climate crisis in McKay’s—and let them play out in front of us. The results are laughable and unbelievable. It’s insane that people in power and influence would jeopardize stopping the literal apocalypse because they either saw it as a moneymaking opportunity or because they didn’t want to talk about bad news.

    And yet this is the maddening reality of the climate crisis today, where business and political figures insist that preventing planetary disaster is too expensive and would cost jobs, and probably the most progressive anchor on cable news casually justifies the lack of his network’s climate coverage on the basis that it’s a “ratings killer.” Just last week, one of the nation’s top newspapers giddily celebrated that leaders around the world were abandoning their climate pledges and “starving the issue of political oxygen,” something it labels “climate realism.”

    For all the critics’ concerns that the movie is undermining its own goal, or that it’s stealing the thunder of hardworking climate campaigners, it’s worth looking to actual scientists and activists. There the film has been near universally positively received, one of the few bright spots in a year full of gloomy climate news. The gripes about its lack of subtlety haven’t landed with climate scientists, who instead recognize the scenes of the astronomers vainly trying to warn a pair of professional cable news morons not as over-the-top satire but as a reality they’ve lived through.

    The scariest thing about Don’t Look Up is that absurd as it is, it barely exaggerates. Much of our political elite are just as greedy and foolish, our media just as vapid, and our response to impending disaster exactly as mind-bogglingly irrational as in the movie. But there is one major difference (and it does involve a spoiler): it may be too late for the characters in Don’t Look Up, but it’s not for us in the real world. Let’s prove McKay wrong by not sharing his characters’ fate.

    This post was originally published on The Real News Network.

  • Christmas is a time to be with the ones you love, to give gifts and give thanks, and to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ (if you’re so inclined). It is also a time for gaudy decorations, Griswoldian light displays, mall Santas, and a carnivalesque orgy of capitalist commercialism, formulaic Hallmark movies, and sugary crap. Does this mean, as we hear every year, that we’ve forgotten the “true spirit” of the holiday, or is there something meaningful and worthwhile in the giant tacky spectacle? What does our attachment to the tackiest parts of Christmas say about us and our aesthetic attachment to “low culture”?

    Whether we’re talking about the holidays, pop music, or frosted lip gloss, it’s high time we develop a more nuanced, empathetic, and less elitist way to talk about pop culture and the politics of “good” and “bad” taste. This is precisely what author Rax King does in her new book Tacky: Love Letters to the Worst Culture We Have to Offer, which explores the meaningful relationships we develop with “tacky” things—from suburban malls and the Cheesecake Factory to the music of Creed—and the complicated social pressures we face from snobbish people telling us we’re bad for liking the things we like.

    In this special holiday edition of Art for the End Times, host Lyta Gold and TRNN Editor-in-Chief Maximillian Alvarez talk to Rax King about her book, the power of unfettered (and unashamed) aesthetic appreciation, and the true meaning of Christmas. Rax King is the James Beard Award-nominated writer of the columns “Store-Bought Is Fine” and “Dirtbag Chef,” as well as the host of the podcast Low Culture Boil. Her writing can be found in a range of outlets, including Glamour, MEL Magazine, and Catapult.

    Pre-Production/Studio/Post-Production: Dwayne Gladden


    Transcript

    The transcript of this podcast will be made available as soon as possible.

    This post was originally published on The Real News Network.

  • The dystopian survival drama Squid Game has a bidirectional relationship with the history of modern Korea—just as Korea’s historical context suffuses the plot and characters of Squid Game, Squid Game as an allegory bleeds backwards onto Korea’s historical material reality. Understanding Korea and Korean history, particularly the second half of the 20th century, can help viewers better understand the show; similarly, the show can help viewers better understand Korea’s history and the blood-soaked shadow of American empire that hangs over it.

    And yet, for the most part, the latter has been curiously absent from the torrents of discourse surrounding the series since it became a global sensation. In the show itself, we get an unflinching look into VIP secrets, we see “where all the bodies are buried.” In this article, I hope to show you how those bodies got there; put them on the slab for examination, and I’ll show you the tentacle marks left on their throats and arms by America’s occupation in Korea. 

    The Imperial Squid

    Before Japan’s surrender in 1945, US military planners at the Potsdam Conference took a map and broke the Korean people in half. According to Dean Rusk, this geopolitical gerrymandering was a compromise between the State Department, which wanted Korea, and the Department of Defense, which did not. No Koreans were consulted.

    The colonized world saw the end of World War II as an opportunity for independence. Of this, we Koreans dreamed, too.

    The colonized world saw the end of World War II as an opportunity for independence. Of this, we Koreans dreamed, too. After all, the Allies promised a “free and independent” Korea in the Cairo Declaration of 1943. Following the end of Japanese occupation on Aug. 15, 1945, Koreans demanded their sovereignty. However, on Sept. 8, the American occupation of Korea officially began. One year later, Korean workers waged a general strike—in response, the American “liberators” sent their police to attack. The next month, October, the Uprisings began.

    In Squid Game, created by director Hwang Dong-hyuk (which, as of this writing, is Netflix’s most-watched series ever), players are forced by dire economic circumstances into a game with such horrific costs that they can only refer to it as a numerical sum: “45.6.” To certain ears, that number will resonate with a distinct echo from history. The Korean War is known to Koreans by a numerical date, “6.25,” the start of our deadliest squid game. Whether we consciously acknowledge it or not, it haunts everything we do. And whether viewers—or Hwang Dong-hyuk, for that matter—consciously recognize it or not, the shadow of American empire haunts everything and everyone in Squid Game

    The Korean War is known to Koreans by a numerical date, “6.25,” the start of our deadliest squid game. Whether we consciously acknowledge it or not, it haunts everything we do.

    Squid is Korea’s most violent childhood game. It is a fratricidal territory game in which players are divided into two groups: One side tries to keep the squid-shaped territory intact; the other tries to sever it. The secret inspector is the player who successfully cleaves the squid in half, which then gives the inspector more advantages. Similar to Korea, the split is uneven. Once divided, the goal is to keep your side alive and kill the other side.

    Squid Game begins with a flashback of Seong Gi-hun and Cho Sang-woo as children playing the titular game. During the game, Gi-hun lies to Sang-woo and tears his own shirt to win—he does whatever it takes. The background is perfumed with music from a recorder, a Western instrument taught in Korean public schools, and traditional Korean percussion. This entanglement of the traditional and the foreign is a running theme. Gi-hun narrates the scene, telling the viewer he was happiest when winning squid because that’s when he felt the most in control.

    The main antagonist in Squid Game is the Front Man, a former police chief who serves his new masters with a fascistic sense of duty. However, just as his ominous voice speaks through a dark humanoid mask, monsters from Korea’s past speak through the figure of the Front Man. After all, the “new” post-Japan Korean leadership—and the police forces who attacked, imprisoned, and massacred Korean workers and liberationists—were the very collaborators and compradors the Japanese colonizers had left in charge. Since the Japanese occupiers staunchly opposed Marxism and national liberation, Cold War Americans trusted these collaborators to run Korea from the inside, inflicting a double injury on the Korean people who were re-subjugated by the very traitors they believed they had overthrown. Loyal servants to their new masters, these collaborators would become the new Korean ruling class. For my father, born in 1926, this was an unspeakable betrayal by the Americans.

    Having learned so much of the Korean history that haunts Squid Game through the stories my father and his friends told me, it was strange to see that Korean fatherhood is conspicuously missing from the series. Fathers in Squid Game are either inexplicably absent, dead, or they figure as surrogates who work with Americans. This is consistent with the fact that fatherhood—and, for that matter, masculinity—in Korea are inextricably caught in that same historical Möbius strip of imperial domination and subjugation. In Western Orientalist depictions, for instance, Korean men are often portrayed as being both feminine and abusive—a seeming justification for Korea’s “need” for American paternalism and white masculine intervention.

    Enter the VIPs, the game’s unseen fathers, who watch their children perish in deadly childhood games, all from the comforts of their Victorian parlor as nude women serve as furniture. Yet their predatory masks, silk robes, and naked bodies indicate a dangerous sort of intimacy. Imperialism in Korea demands both political and sexual submission. “What pretty eyes you have,” says the VIP as he claims sexual ownership over Hwang Jun-ho.

    Americans back home heard they had brought freedom to Korea, a fiction they were allowed to believe because Koreans, like children, could be seen but not heard.

    Likewise, Korea’s unseen fathers, the Americans, established the Republic of Korea in 1948 from their own vaunted parlors thousands of miles away. Three months later, the National Security Act was enacted: Koreans were now being watched, not just by the Americans and their newly appointed puppet government, but by fellow Koreans sniffing with their eyes for any “left-wing” activity or criticisms of the government. (Like the Japanese, whom the Americans had prohibited from speaking about the nuclear bombs, Koreans expressed their imperial suffering through art—a legacy that lives on in Squid Game itself.) 

    Americans back home heard they had brought freedom to Korea, a fiction they were allowed to believe because Koreans, like children, could be seen but not heard. Americans cherish free speech, sovereign independence, and democratic governance. Americans call the systematic repression of those things fascism. What, then, do Americans think they brought to Korea?

    At the time it was instituted, any Korean could be deemed in violation of the National Security Act and punished (this still happens to artists and union activists today). Who got to decide what constitutes left-wing activity? The Americans, the US-appointed Korean government, the police, fascist youth groups, a neighbor holding a personal grudge. Under the broad National Security Act, fascism became the legal framework. In a matter of years after America’s arrival, Korea was cleaved and plunged into a fratricidal war. No longer fighting settlers, it was sibling vs. sibling—neighbors became enemies. Not as simple as north vs. south, villages and towns throughout the south had their own civil wars and massacres—sometimes involving Japanese collaborators turned pro-Americans who were back in power.

    Expanding imperialism, however, takes more than squashing dissent—you also need recruiters, and God.

    The Recruiting Game

    Expanding imperialism, however, takes more than squashing dissent—you also need recruiters, and God. Like previous Western empires, the US employed religion as a technology of conversion and imperial subjugation. Instead of Catholicism, though, with its central figurehead and particular historical ties to Europe and Latin America, the US uses Protestant Christianity. It’s more American, friendlier to capitalism, and its decentralization simultaneously magnifies imperial hegemony and plausible deniability.

    Starting with Korean-American Syngman Rhee, Protestantism’s anticommunism, prosperity gospel, Puritanical morals, and pro-Americanism—including an entire exceptionalist mythos wrapped up in the American Dream—formed the cornerstone of Korea’s rightwing, US-backed dictatorships. But rather than accepting this invasive American theology as a fixture of contemporary Korean culture, Squid Game highlights its foreignness. When the Salesman tries to recruit Gi-hun, for instance, Gi-hun mistakes him for a Protestant evangelist and asserts his heritage and dignity by telling him, “Don’t bother, I’m a Buddhist.”

    The Salesman proposes to Gi-hun a game of ddakji. Ddakji is a folded-tile-flipping game where all that’s required to play is paper. (Since they were developed for post-war children, traditional Korean games are inexpensive and simple.) Squid Game’s use of blue and red tiles makes the game an unavoidable allegory for the two Koreas. 

    The Salesman asks Gi-hun to pick a tile. To understand the paternalism of this scene, consider a parent giving their child the opportunity to choose which of their two socks to put on their left foot and which to put on their right foot. This choice gives the child a sense of autonomy without real freedom—they ultimately still have to do what the parent wants. This paternalism intertwines players who can vote to leave the game but cannot exit the system that creates the game. Korean citizens, likewise, can vote for a president but can’t vote for reunification, for America to leave, or vote to stop US military action. This sham freedom is what the Salesman brings to Gi-hun, much like what the US brought to Korea.

    But who is Gi-hun—and, for that matter, Korea—being saved from? 

    The Host, the mastermind behind Squid Game, ends up being one of Korea’s biggest moneylenders. One way or another, most, if not all, of the players’ debts are owed to him. This reveal makes the secret inspector a painfully apt metaphor: The Salesman, as a proxy for the Host, appears with a solution when, in fact, the Host is the producer of the players’ debt problems. 

    There is a Korean proverb that goes like this: “byeong jugo yak junda” (“give you the disease, then give you the cure”). This is the Salesman’s con and the con of America’s “exceptional” empire: pretending to save you from the problems they secretly caused; appearing as the hero when they’re actually the villain—the secret inspector. What better example is there than the US supporting the Japanese occupation of Korea (Taft-Katsura agreement, 1905) then appearing as Korea’s liberators decades later? In American foreign (and domestic) policy, “freedom” and “opportunity” amount to sales talk.

    By 1946, a year into the American occupation and four years before the Korean War, the detention of Korean liberationists began again. Japan’s legacy continued under the oppressive guise of Americans bringing “freedom.” For Gi-hun, taking the Salesman’s offer meant waking up in a concentration camp modeled after Korea’s haunted past.

     In Squid Game, “mugunghwa flower bloomed” serves as an allegory for Korea’s militarized border, its history of stop-start liberation, and the bloodshed and sacrifice of all the Koreans who dreamed of a unified and free Korea.

    The Mugunghwa Flower Bloomed

    The first official game, “mugunghwa flower bloomed,” is similar to America’s “red light, green light” game. Rather than drawing its inspiration from American traffic laws, however, the mugunghwa flower symbolizes freedom. In Squid Game, “mugunghwa flower bloomed” serves as an allegory for Korea’s militarized border, its history of stop-start liberation, and the bloodshed and sacrifice of all the Koreans who dreamed of a unified and free Korea.

    There’s nothing allegorical, though, about what happened at Jeju Island. In 1948, USAMGIK (United States Army Military Government in Korea) and Rhee forces massacred 30,000 Jejuans—10% of the population—with another 4,000 fleeing to Japan. (Let that sink in: Koreans felt safer in Japan.) Some estimates run as high as 60,000 islanders killed, with soldiers and fascist youth groups raping and torturing countless others and burning down hundreds of villages. Like Hawaii, Jeju Island is an Indigenous culture that the mainland annexed. The brutality unleashed on Jejuans was nothing short of genocidal. But for north Korean migrant Sae-byeok, Jeju Island is the only place in the world she would like to go.

    Ppopgi

    The second official game is ppopgi, which is actually a cheap candy made of sugar and baking soda that was gamified due to sugar shortages during post-war Korea. Rather than buying a bag of candy, you can spend up to ten minutes eating one ppopgi. If you can carve out the embedded shape, you win a prize. For the players in Squid Game, the prize is living. 

    Gi-hun, who ends up with the most difficult shape—the umbrella—comes up with the idea of licking his way to victory. Again, Gi-hun will do whatever it takes. The drama then juxtaposes Gi-hun’s gratuitous licking with player 119’s resistance. 119 (also Korea’s emergency number) fights back and takes a masked worker hostage. But when the authorities come, they massacre the remaining players. There is no help nor salvation for worker or player. This hopelessness is a feeling many Korean elders know all too well.

    By 1950, the Rhee regime had 300,000 Koreans in concentration camps, known as Bodo Leagues, and 30,000 more in jails. Additionally, US and Rhee forces executed tens of thousands of Korean civilians. This violence preceded the war, though some would argue that it was this violence that prompted the war. As northern forces advanced on June 25, 1950, retreating US and southern forces executed as many prisoners as they could. Korea is still uncovering these mass graves. Perhaps this is why in Squid Game, the oppressors burn the bodies of their victims. No evidence.

    The American policy at the time was to “contain” communism anywhere it seemed to be occurring, regardless of the cause or cost. The long shadow cast by that policy still frames north Koreans as invaders of their own land and Americans as rightful defenders of their perceived property. In accordance with their sense of righteous entitlement to claim Korea, the US launched a large-scale military campaign without an official declaration of war. President Harry Truman chalked it up to a “police action.”

    Tug-of-War

    The third official game is tug-of-war, where powerful outsiders divide Korean civilians, migrants, and refugees in two, then force them to directly kill their other half. A guillotine then severs the tie that binds. Koreans already describe the Korean War as a scorched-earth tug-of-war, with one side doing most of the damage. There were at least 215 incidents of civilian and refugee killings involving US and allied forces during the war. A south Korean commission conservatively estimates over 100,000 civilians executed, with No Gun Ri being the worst massacre by US ground troops (with an estimated 300 people murdered) until the My Lai massacre in Vietnam. There are even rumors about the use of experimental biological weapons.

    Initially, the US and its south Korean regime blamed north Korea and communism for these atrocities, along with the destruction of most of the peninsula. Any and all arguments to the contrary were denounced as communist propaganda. Many Americans, including Korean-Americans, are unaware that only the US dropped bombs on Korea. This was a fact I was always aware of, though, because a US bomb fell on my mother’s house. Had it detonated, my mother would have never met my father, and I would not exist. According to the chief architect of the US bombing campaign in Korea, General Curtis LeMay, the US “burned down every town in north Korea and south Korea, too.” This trauma caused south Korea to build bunkers up until the 1970s. Previously deemed uninhabitable for housing, these bunkers now serve as housing for the poor. This is where Gi-hun and his mother live.

    Ssangmun-dong, where Gi-hun and Sang-woo grew up, is one of the poorest areas in Seoul. In the aptly titled episode “Hell,” Gi-hun and Sang-woo return to Ssangmun-dong. “Hell” is also where Sang-woo, in a nondescript hotel room, attempts to kill himself (carbon monoxide poisoning). However, the game intervenes with a second “opportunity” to play, only to put him back at the same crossroads of despair and self-harm. The site of Sang-woo’s final game is also the site of the very first game: “mugunghwa flower bloomed.” In the end, Sang-woo wanted someone to see the flower bloom, even if it wasn’t him—to make all the sacrifices mean something. In 1953, despite all the dead Koreans waiting for the mugunghwa flower to bloom, Korea ended up back at the line conjured up at Potsdam: the 38th parallel.

    Rather than a permanent peace treaty, there has only ever been a cease-fire agreement (which, as of this writing, remains in effect)—still leaving the US with Operational Control Authority (OPCON) over Korea. Using its “legal” authority, just as in Potsdam, the US did not invite any south Korean representatives to the signing.

    In the end, Sang-woo wanted someone to see the flower bloom, even if it wasn’t him—to make all the sacrifices mean something.

    But just as the Host eventually dies, Syngman Rhee’s dictatorship finally came to an end in 1960. Despite the police and military killing 186 people, the April Revolution successfully ended Rhee’s 13-year rule. However, as protesters converged on the Presidential residence, the CIA smuggled Rhee out of Korea, allowing him to escape any punishment for his crimes. The extension of US tentacles in Korea is why an outsider became Korea’s first President and Franziska Donner, a white Austrian woman, became Korea’s first First Lady—a fact not mentioned even by Korean rightists. But just as Squid Game continued under VIP-backed Front Man, General Park Chung-hee, a former Japanese collaborator who pledged his allegiance to Imperial Japan, replaced Rhee as the new US-backed dictator, to be then succeeded by General Chun Doo-hwan.

    Marbles

    The fourth official game is marbles, where players are each given a bag with ten marbles and divided into pairs. The goal is to take over your opponent’s marbles however you can. Put simply, it’s a coup d’état game.

    On Oct. 26, 1979, Park Chung-hee was assassinated by the KCIA (Korean Central Intelligence Agency), ending his 18-year bloody rule. Power shifted hands quickly until General Chun Doo-hwan led a military coup to take over the government. Chun declared martial law, suspending whatever meager rights were in place to protect the Korean people. In May of 1980, a popular uprising in Gwangju protested Chun’s military takeover and demanded democracy. Subsequently, President Jimmy Carter approved Chun’s coup and gave the nod to wipe out the democratic opposition in Gwangju. During the Gwangju Massacre, police and military roughly killed 700 people and sexually assaulted over a dozen others. Chun then expanded the National Security Act into a junta known as the Special Committee for National Security Measures (SCNSM).

    The Chun regime sent many of the Gwangju protesters to Samchung concentration camp, where over 100,000 civilians were unlawfully arrested and held. Yet what’s closest to Squid Game is Brothers’ Home. Starting under Park Chung-hee and continuing under Chun Doo-hwan, Brothers’ Home was one of the largest concentration camps in Korean history. These US-backed regimes rounded up children, orphans, students, elders, street vendors, the unhoused, and other marginalized groups, all on the behest of capitalism and the 1988 Olympics. Brothers’ Home enslaved, tortured, and abused even children. Sexual assault, murder, and death games were standard practices there. Though for the survivors and their families, there was no life-changing money, only scars.

    As Han Mi-nyeo explains, even Squid Game follows “a beautiful rule: not abandoning the marginalized.” As bad as the fictional world of Squid Game is, the show is making a critique that the real-life example of Brothers’ Home was even worse.

    Stepping Stones

    The fifth official game is “stepping stones.” Since Korea is a peninsula, streams and creeks were plentiful until south Korea’s mass development. The goal was to cross a stream without falling between the cracks and into the water. One misstep and you could seriously injure yourself, or for some children, even drown.

    Squid Game started in 1988, coinciding with the Seoul Olympics and increased fascistic arrests, and the economic downturn of 1987’s Black Monday. With south Korean residents already disappearing and falling through the cracks, no one would notice Squid Game. For those barely surviving on stepping stones, Squid Game was a better alternative than the state-sanctioned “social cleansing” programs.

    There is no sure footing for most Koreans today, only drowning and injury. The average Korean household debt in 2019 was 190.6% of income. In 2021, the household debt was over 100% of the gross domestic product. The US patted itself on the back for Korea’s “economic miracle,” yet how did so many Koreans fall through the cracks? In Squid Game, the first game records we see come from 1998, the year after the IMF Crisis in Korea. What appeared to be the “growth” of the economy was really the growth of the ruling class. This growth was fueled by borrowing mostly from American VIPs. But when the VIPs came to collect, the Korean ruling class couldn’t pay them back—leaving the Korean working class to carry most of the burden, fueling a significant Squid Game turnout for ’98. This worked out well for the Americans because now they could lend Korea more money through the International Monetary Fund (IMF) while consolidating more power.

    For neocolonizers like the US, debt is more effective than direct domination because it allows for “legal” authority with the veneer of providing aid. In Korea, this meant sweeping changes to Korea’s economy and laws: from irregular jobs, stripping of worker protections, lower wages, reduced benefits, selling off Korea’s economy, to the 1998 dismissal law protecting employers during firings. As a result, foreign VIPs not only own more of the economy than average Koreans, but US companies also have more say in the government (KORUS FTA). This was also the beginning of IMF surcharges.

    Local loan sharks from Squid Game exist because the IMF is the ultimate predatory loan shark that puts blood in the water. The small dormitory living space we see in the show, gosiwon, became a fixture of Korean society because of IMF austerities. The “IMF period,” as it’s known to Koreans, also kicked off Korea’s declining birth rates and suicides. Austerities, like sanctions, are murder. Period.

    The Squid Game

    This brings us to the final game and how Gi-hun ended up in “hell.” Gi-hun was once an autoworker at Dragon Motors. During a labor strike to protest unfair terminations that resulted from IMF measures, Gi-hun saw police brutally murder his close friend (further highlighting 119 as a literary device). This fictional strike was inspired by the SsangYong Motors strike, where workers were attacked, blackballed, sued, and had their assets seized. More than 30 workers and family members died from the fallout.

    Lack of work prospects and debt pushed Gi-hun, and many other Koreans, into self-employment—despite having no business experience. Unfortunately, this meant more borrowing. Consider trying to start a business during a financial crisis with everyone else you know also starting similar businesses. There isn’t enough money or customers to go around.

    Now for Squid Game players and workers, consider the double injury of borrowing from the ruling class to survive the debt caused by the ruling class. Just as in 1945, only the US-made Korean ruling class benefited from the American VIPs’ IMF policies. These compradors feed off the workers, like the Host who lends money, while providing only 10% of the jobs.

    Japan couldn’t betray Korea because their colonialism was upfront. As we see in the final episode, “One Lucky Day,” the secret oppressor hides their actions while turning Koreans against themselves. The sixth official game bookends with Gi-hun and Sang-woo, as adults, playing squid again. Since the oppressor is both hidden and out of reach, these metaphorical brothers have no place to direct their rage other than to each other. Gi-hun batters Sang-woo and tells him, “You killed them. You killed everyone.” Scarcity, austerity, division, and sanctions put Koreans at odds: north against south, workers against players, neighbor against neighbor, and family against family.

    In Sang-woo’s final moments, he tells Gi-hun, “Big brother, when we used to play like this as kids, our moms would call us in for dinner. But no one will call us anymore.” The American empire has stolen Korea’s past and mortgaged its future.

    Whether in Squid Game or real life, speaking to the VIPs means speaking English. You meet the VIPs where they are. But perhaps American viewers of Squid Game can meet Koreans where they are. Americans have power over Korea, but that power is bidirectional. They can maintain their belief in American empire in Korea, or they can cast away its long shadow. But for now, Korean children will play squid and its many variations. One of the most popular being squid unification.

    This post was originally published on The Real News Network.

  • Yes, we all have a certain nostalgic attachment to the Harry Potter series and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But let’s be honest: It’s a little odd that children are offered up as sacrifices in JK Rowling’s magical world, that they’re expected to save everybody, and that everyone is just kind of fine with that arrangement. However, in the first two installments of her celebrated Scholomance series, A Deadly Education and The Last Graduate, author Naomi Novik creates a much darker and much more violent world of magic, monsters, sorcerers, and survival—a world that takes the premise of Rowling’s series to a darker, more violent, and dramatically complex conclusion. Following the central character El as she navigates the treacherous world within and beyond the Scholomance, a school for sorcerers without teachers or a governing body, Novik’s innovative novels not only make for great reading but also probe deeply human and political questions about the choices we make to survive in a darkly unjust world—and the fights we must wage in order to create something better.

    In the newest episode of Art for the End Times, host Lyta Gold convenes a lively panel of writers, philologists, editors, and haters to discuss the Scholomance series and the important lessons Novik’s magical world can teach us about surviving our own monstrous world. Panelists include: Dan WaldenAllegra SilcoxAdrian Rennix, and Jessica Lamb.

    Subscribe to the TRNN podcast on your favorite podcast player so you don’t miss an episode of Art for the End Times!

    Pre-Production/Studio/Post Production: Stephen Frank


    Transcript

    Lyta Gold:     Hello, and welcome to Art for the End Times. I am your beloved host Lyta Gold. This week, we are bringing you a very special episode. Okay, yeah, they’re all very special episodes of course. But this one has an afterschool special vibe because we’re going to be talking about a magical school. So you’re thinking, oh, shit, it’s a Harry Potter episode. Okay, I would not do that to you guys. I wouldn’t. Fear not. We’re going to talk about a different series, a new series. It’s a trilogy by Naomi Novik. It’s called the Scholomance Series. The first two books are out. The first one is called A Deadly Education. The second one just came out, it’s called The Last Graduate. The third one’s supposed to come out next year.

    So the way I usually sell these books to people – Because I love Naomi Novik and I have a different pitch for every single book of hers – But for this series, the way I sell it to people, I say it’s like a dark Harry Potter. Or it’s like, what if Harry Potter was good instead of being super disappointing? So this series, the Scholomance Series, it’s about capitalism, it’s about inequality, it’s about our broken educational system, it’s about solidarity, it’s about friendship, [cars honking] it’s about horns beeping outside, and it’s about monsters.

    So to help us talk about this, I’ve brought on some of my absolute favorite monsters in the world. So let’s introduce them. First up, we have a writer, an academic, a philologist. He knows more than you. He’s read more than you. That’s right. It’s Dan Walden.

    Dan Walden:     Oh, hi, Lyta. It is wonderful to be on with you again.

    Lyta Gold:     I know. Same. And the next up we have got one of my very favorite people in the world. She’s a writer and a tech genius, a true nerd girl, so [fake] nerd boys can step it off. It’s Allegra Silcox.

    Allegra Silcox:     I didn’t even know who you were introducing for a second. Hello, it’s me.

    Lyta Gold:            Because you’re too modest. You’re a tech genius, and you say, that can’t be me.

    Allegra Silcox:      Can’t be me.

    Lyta Gold:         Right. or that can’t be me, even though I wrote a bunch of brilliant articles. Can’t be me. That’s you, that’s you.

    Allegra Silcox:     It’s me.

    Lyta Gold:         Our next person really needs no introduction at all. They’re a writer, an editor, a lawyer, a hero, a scholar. It’s Adrian Rennix.

    Adrian Rennix:     Hi, guys.

    Lyta Gold:      The face, you can’t see the face, but the face that Rennix just made was a work of art. Very last, but not least, a very good friend of mine, fantasy fan, higher ed professional, hater extraordinaire, it’s Jessica Lamb.

    Jessica Lamb:     I mean, when you say hater, it sounds unfair. It’s just a lot of things deserve it. You know what I mean?

    Lyta Gold:            That’s what makes you such a good hater, because you fairly apply the hate to the things that deserve it.

    Jessica Lamb:     I’m an equal opportunity hater.

    Lyta Gold:             So yeah, we’re going to do a panel. But before we get going on the panel, a quick rundown of what the Scholomance books are about. We’re going to do a lot of spoilers if you haven’t read them. But just here’s the basic overview, if you haven’t read them at all. They’re definitely written – And Novik has said this – They’re written as sort of critique or reaction to Harry Potter. They also draw on this Eastern European legend I didn’t know about, a legend about a school of magic where Satan claims the soul of the last graduate to leave, which I don’t know how that works. If your name ends in Z, are you fucked? Is that how that … Who’s the last? Is it merit? I don’t know. I guess it depends on the school.

    Yeah, my husband’s name, we went to college together, his name ends in a Z. So he was always at the end. So I’m like, oh, God, would he be eaten by Satan? Dang, it would be rough. Sucks to be him, I guess. Anyway, the premise –

    Jessica Lamb: It explains a lot.

    Lyta Gold:         I know. Right? It kind of does. Jessica does him well. The premise of this world is a little bit similar to Harry Potter. We’ve got a wizarding world that exists alongside the regular one, but this wizarding world is extremely dangerous. Magic is performed with mana, and mana is very tasty to monsters around the world, and there’s tons of monsters. The word for monsters in the book is Maleficaria, or it’s called mals for short. So we’ll use that. People who are most at risk from mals are wizard teens because they’re brimming with mana and they can’t really protect themselves.

    So the safest option, which is even safest even if you’re a wizard with a lot of resources and you live in a fancy enclave, you send your kids to the Scholomance. The school’s supposed to keep out the mals. Of course, plenty of mals get in, anyway. It’s not a great system. Graduation is extremely dangerous because a lot of mals just hang out in the graduation hall, waiting for the teens to run up and get eaten.

    So usually, only about a quarter of the class will make it out of the Scholomance alive. Everybody’s fine with that. I mean, they’re not fine, fine, but it’s like the best available option. It’s the lesser of two evils. It’s the best possible chance for the kids. So if you are from a wealthy enclave, your kid in the school, you will have more resources coming in, more allies. You’re more likely to make it. You’re more likely to survive. If you’re not rich, then you need to make some alliances with the rich kids or with some others or you’re fucked. You’re probably fucked anyway, if you’re not rich.

    So real quick, main characters just before we go into it. Protagonist is a poor kid whose name is El. It’s kind of a strange – So it’s short for Galadriel, which is like The Lord of the Rings character. It’s a little strange. I don’t know if Naomi Novik is trying to make it unadaptable for the screen, which I would extremely respect if that was the move. I also think that it puts El in this position of always being stuck in the moment of making this choice whether she’s going to be a good person or a powerful evil queen.

    Lyta Gold:          Different kinds of magic, like natural affinities, El’s affinity is for evil, dark sorcerous shit. She’s all about that. She doesn’t necessarily want to be all about that but the school gives her spells to make super volcanoes and just kill lots of people all the time. So that’s fun. She’s a lot of fun. She hates everybody, and I really like her.

    The other character kid who’s up top is Orion Lake. Orion is an enclave kid so he’s a rich kid. He’s kind of Harry Potter-ish. His affinity is for being a hero, basically, but he’s really just good at killing monsters. He’s not really good at being around people or doing anything normal. He’s so good at killing monsters though that in the opening of the first book he’s created this power imbalance. Way too many of the kids have survived way more than usual, and it’s created some problems and it’s also opened up some really interesting possibilities.

    So that’s the basic setup. Yeah. Let’s dive in. Did I leave anything out that anybody wanted to talk about up top?

    Jessica Lamb:         All good.

    Dan Walden:         I think you covered it.

    Lyta Gold:             Yay. Okay. Well, the reason that I got into these books, I mean, I love Naomi Novik in general, but I avoided these because wizard schools, I’m tired of that. But Allegra read them, and Allegra’s like, these are a great critique of capitalism. You need to read them right now. And she threw them at me. I mean, digitally, but you know how it goes. So Allegra, if you want to start off talking about these books, how they function as a critique of capitalism.

    Allegra Silcox:     Yeah. So about, I don’t know, maybe a third of the way into these books, I’m reading it, I’m really digging the goth school vibes. I’m digging all the scary monsters and all the gruesome ways that these children die. And I realized that the way that Naomi Novik has laid out almost like an economy, that mana is actually quite hard to come by. You either have to generate it with your own sort of sweat and effort, or there’s kind of a way to cheat. Yeah, there’s a way to steal it from other people which is an interesting dynamic that she explores.

    But essentially she’s created this school that feels like there’s a zero-sum game that only some people, some of these students can survive. So each student has to be extremely callous about how they go about surviving in this world. And what is ultimately explored is the fact that some people enter the Scholomance with an advantage. They’re part of a group of essentially rich people who share mana through these power crystals.

    So El is on the outside and she’s working super, super hard. She’s literally doing circuit workouts in her room after barely surviving every day in order to generate mana to survive on her own, and there are some kids who have it comparatively very easy because they share resources, but only amongst themselves. I have a lot more to say about how it’s actually a beautiful radicalization journey for her, that she starts off very resentful of the rich kids, but also wanting to join them. She accepts that this is the only way that she can really survive outside of the world. And I’ll stop there because we might want to get into what happens in the second book a little bit later. But yeah, metaphor for capitalism.

    Lyta Gold:      Anybody want to add onto that?

    Dan Walden:        It does a really excellent job, I thought, of staging the kinds of choices that someone has to make. Because as Lyta said in these books, El, the main character, the books, it’s first person narration. It’s all inside El’s head. She knows absolutely that she could quite literally level the place and it wouldn’t even be difficult. She demonstrates to Orion once that in order to demonstrate that she wasn’t doing black magic, that she wasn’t cheating, she showed him just how easy it would be for her to do it, and she just casually starts to rip out his soul. And she doesn’t. She makes the very deliberate choice not to take the easy road every single day.

    Her mother is a significant figure in this even though she’s absent from the books because it’s only the kids who are at the school, but El’s mom is this hippy dippy dropout who’s this legendary healer that people go to all the time. But she lives in this hippie commune full of just normal people hippies. And she begins as sort of like El’s conscience in a way: I can’t do this bad stuff because what would my mom say? And she really does love her mother. It’s honestly very sweet.

    But as Allegra said, there’s a change in her reasoning over the course of the books. Suddenly it’s not, I can’t do this stuff because it would disappoint my mom. It’s, oh, wait, actually, maybe mom was on to something because actually the only way out of this is for all of us to actually give to each other. I remain really impressed in how few pages, frankly, she manages to stage all of this, going to show once again Naomi Novik’s a fucking pro.

    Lyta Gold:              Yeah. It’s not –

    Allegra Silcox:      She’s such a pro.

    Lyta Gold:         She’s such a pro, dude. We –

    Dan Walden:  She’s turning out a book a year, and they’re –

    Lyta Gold:        And they’re –

    Dan Walden:     …Tight, and well plotted.

    Lyta Gold:            …Bangers. They’re bangers. Yeah. In this house, we respect Naomi Novik. We are very fond of her on this pod. Yeah. She really gets at why solidarity in this situation is difficult, and she’s not spending a lot of time morally condemning people. Because her protagonist is who we’re hearing from her own point of view, is having a tough time initially with exactly that and initially is very cynical. Solidarity is hard and it’s a hard thing to build, and yeah, I think these books do a great job of it.

    So El has a lot of trouble making friends. She’s a big hater. And then she starts to, in ways that I think are actually kind of interesting, because people are… She mutually bands with some other people to survive but they also start to really like each other, which is charming. And then Orion has a thing for her, and maybe they’re dating but maybe they’re not and it’s cute because they’re still teens. And yeah, I think that’s an interesting vibe for how these alliances, these emotional bonds form even in these terrible situations.

    Allegra Silcox:     Yeah. I think one thing that really struck me about these books is that they really feel, as compared to Harry Potter which is sort of like in some ways a fantasy about what if school were interesting and fun, these books are like a… It’s a fantasy, but it’s also actually a very emotionally realistic depiction about how much school sucks. And obviously, in most people’s schools, they’re not fighting for their lives, but there is that.

    And I think even the aesthetics of the way she describes the school, because the idea is that the school doesn’t quite exist in reality. It’s been created in this void by wizards and it doesn’t really exist in space. So different parts of it appear and disappear. But when we get descriptions of it it seems very kind of stark and inhospitable. The words that are used to describe the parts of the school, it’s not like, oh, the dining hall, the potions dungeon, and there’s fantasy type terms. It’s like shop, gym, auditorium, all the classic –

    Lyta Gold:         Everyone’s dirty and smelly.

    Allegra Silcox:      Yeah. It really struck me. That, and the whole just she goes to the cafeteria and agonizes, like, how am I going to find a place to sit? And that’s both actuated by like, I don’t want to get eaten by monsters who live in the terrible food we’re given to eat. But also I can’t sit somewhere where people won’t accept me. And there’s also this element that in modern schools the school is also like a prison because the children, to some extent, it seems like their parents barter for places for them in some cases. But also, they’re also inducted involuntarily off the street into the school. They just get snatched magically by the school, transported to the interior, and then they can’t leave unless they graduate.

    And so there’s that dynamic that they’re also imprisoned in the school, and it kind of reminded me in a weird way of… In the third season of Arrested Development there’s a really funny moment where George Michael and Maeby, who are two teenagers, are walking around inside this prison, and they say, oh, prison’s not so bad. It’s just like being in high school. And the joke is that the set that they’re using for the prison hallway is the same cinder block set that they use for the hallway of the high school in an earlier scene. And there is that just sending children in this, which we do in real life, at this very formative and emotionally high key moment of their lives to these aesthetically depressed, repressive, confusing, anxiety-producing environments.

    So it’s just like she does such a good job creepily describing that and really setting up El’s alienation at the beginning. Which then when she starts to make friends it then feels very joyful and satisfying because you remember what it felt like at those moments in school when someone accepted you. So it’s really, really well done in that way.

    Adrian Rennix:       Can we talk about the lack of adults for a second? I’m not sure if we’ve said it explicitly, but it’s children only. There are no teachers. They have no, literally no outside contact with the outside world, aside from this once a year opportunity to get one tiny slip of paper from your parents hoping that you’re still alive because they do not know. And as a contrast to Harry Potter… A lot of the Harry Potter books, there’s some positive things to say about this, but they look toward the adults to solve problems a lot and the adults normally fail and it relies on the children to actually take the action. But there’s something really interesting about the way that El and Orion ultimately creates solidarity in a way that says, we can’t look outside of ourselves in order to save ourselves from this situation.

    I don’t know. There’s just something really interesting there, and it’s also nice to prove that children don’t actually need outside authoritarian forces. One, they can become authoritarian on their own if they want, and two, they also have the capacity to overcome that and band together if they want.

    Lyta Gold:       Yeah. There’s a particularly interesting thing about the school and it’s coming to [sentience]. So the school’s imprinted with this idea that this is a place of sanctuary for all wizard children and El goes on a tear about nobody fucking believes that. Obviously it’s not really safe for anybody but it’s safer for enclave kids, whatever.

    But the school, given that it has been imprinted with the idea that this is supposed to be a safe place for children and higher learning, and protect children. So the school believes that and it’s like in its own weird way trying to protect them. And I think there’s something very interesting in that because it’s like the school’s in this void, it’s kind of held together by belief in what magic is. Magic is something you believe in. So you have to sort of… One of the bad things that could happen is if you could stop believing in the parts of the Scholomance. Then suddenly you see the void and it’s terrifying. But the idea of an institution is held together by the belief that it both exists and is trying to help you, it’s a really interesting idea, I think.

    Allegra Silcox:       Wait, side note about what you just said. I completely forgot. Yes. Sometimes if you’re dreading the walk down a hallway the hallway will last longer, and that’s just, again, metaphors, puberty, adolescence. Love it.

    Lyta Gold:             Yeah.

    Dan Walden:        Especially in the second book when the school becomes much more of a player. And like Lyta said, the school actually does take the idea seriously, but it’s the magical equivalent of a machine. It’s dumb. All it does is do the math. Okay. If this one kid dies these three other kids are going to live, and it doesn’t give a shit who they are, it doesn’t care if they’re enclaves or normal kids, all it’s doing is running the numbers. I mean, I think there’s a lot of productive ways you can read that whether it’s talking about market distribution of resources or the way that various kinds of targeted affirmative action programs, if you’re not doing something comprehensive with it behind the scenes you’re going to end up with more benefit to people who are advantaged in ways that you’re not targeting. Class-based affirmative action programs end up disproportionately benefiting white people.

    Allegra Silcox:      Mm-hmm (affirmative). Yeah. I mean, the school itself is kind of a dumb machine that’s just doing these equations that on the outside look very opaque. But actually, even El in the first book as she’s going through this journey that starts off as very personal, how she’s able to form alliances that then become friendships, which I think is very telling that in order to maybe be a good socialist to do good solidarity you might actually have to have some sort of wellspring of love for humanity inside you. I’m not sure those thoughts are still forming. But it actually shows her struggling with this equation that she says, if I do X, some kid might die. And she starts spitting that out broader and broader until she says she knows that it’s not a direct line that says, If I get a spot in an enclave, then I am murdering somebody in the Scholomance. But she says, just because it’s a 46 order derivative equation, doesn’t mean that she can’t work out which side is right and which side is wrong and I think that’s how we all feel living under capitalism.

    Another example would be The Good Place, which part of its whole arc would be saying, oh, it’s impossible to actually calculate what your actions are, the impact of your actions are and what would be truly right or wrong if you try to turn it into an equation. But at the end of the day we all pretty much know what should be right and wrong. We just save ourselves from knowing that by not interrogating the assumptions that we’re operating under. And that’s how you feel, is that a lot of people in the Scholomance, they’re really just trying to survive, and El has so much compassion for them and that’s what makes you root for her through this, is that she doesn’t look around and say, these people suck. They’re not as good as I am for trying to save the school.

    She has so much empathy because she was there, that all they’re doing is trying to survive and they’ve been given a really, really shitty hand. But ultimately, the only way that they are able to have their entire class graduate is by working together to blow up the Scholomance.

    Adrian Rennix:      And El’s, in addition to being the main character, is also the narrator of the book. And she’s a very fun, and to me charming narrator, because she has this constant low-grade just annoyance bordering on murderousness towards almost everyone around her. And I listened to it on audio book, so I had this very just constantly irritated British girl just giving this endless monologue about how furious she is all the time.

    But at the same time she’s in this very crotchety way, a very thoughtful and morally serious person. And so even as she’s sort of like, oh, God, I don’t want to think about this she’s spinning out, as Allegra was saying, all these different possibilities. So she’s kind of charming because she has these anti-hero qualities because she’s struggling against this predestined villain arc that she’s on. But she’s also not one of those a little bit tedious, morally gray characters you have sometimes where they do horrible things all the time, and then they’re like, what have I become? She’s very different from that, which I like.

    Jessica Lamb:     Yeah, I love that –

    Adrian Rennix:     She’s doing good things all the time and thinking, oh, what have I become?

    Jessica Lamb:    Yeah, exactly. And I love that she makes mistakes, but you see her rationale behind it, and you can understand it. And I prefer to read works where people are good at what they’re doing and are just put in a bad situation. And she’s a teenager. I 100% don’t expect her to make the right decisions all the time and that wouldn’t make for a very good book, I think. But yeah, the author does a really good job in helping us understand why she does what she does.

    Lyta Gold:          I want to talk a little bit more about her villain arc because I think it’s a really interesting idea. N.K. Jemisin made this point about where a lot of fantasy novels go where they’re like things start good, and then a bad thing intervenes, and then the good guys have to fight off the bad thing, and then things return to normal. It’s a very reactionary kind of thing. Or maybe you get a dystopian story where just bad things are happening and the heroes can maybe do something or not very much at all.

    And Allegra actually wrote a great article about Cyberpunk, which does a lot of exactly that where it’s a dystopia but heroes can’t really do much so nothing really happens. Heroes are antiheroes really. But what’s neat about El is, again, she’s fighting against this instinct and this affinity for being a villain. But what does it mean to be a villain in an evil world? And what she finds, especially in the second book, is that being a villain means, as we’ve sort of already hinted at, means destroying the school, is destroying this evil place. But it’s not so simple to just destroy it because you have to destroy it in such a way that doesn’t just immediately open up every kid to get eaten. So yeah, so I wanted to explore that a little bit more, if we could, what good and evil means because it’s a complex thing.

    Allegra Silcox:       [crosstalk].

    Jessica Lamb:     [crosstalk].

    Lyta Gold:          No one’s ever had this discussion before.

    Allegra Silcox:    Well, the villain arc is, one, just her proclivities which are for death magic, which is awesome and she’s hot and I want her to be my girlfriend. But her relatives are known for prophecies, and they prophesy that she’s going to destroy the world or destroy the enclaves. So you could read that as very murderous, she’s going to ruin the world. But what beautiful, beautiful, wonderful El is actually working towards in the second book is she has this burgeoning hope that she’s found this really rare tome that would allow her to create her own mini enclaves.

    So you could also think of this prophecy as meaning a destruction of the status quo, that instead of having these really harmful rich people enclaves are quite exclusive, the only way for people to survive against the hungry, hungry mals. But instead, she wants to traipse across the world and make her own little mini enclaves for people that would otherwise have no protection. She is destroying the evil status quo for something better?

    Lyta Gold:         Although I do wonder if those mini popup enclaves are like mini houses, like the mini houses that were like, oh, these people live in a 100-square foot house. [sings made-up jingle tune].

    Allegra Silcox:   Do you think [crosstalk] .

    Lyta Gold:          [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:   Yes. [crosstalk].

    Jessica Lamb:      Listen, El’s, going to – Just hashtag van life for El.

    Dan Walden:      Just nothing but building tiny houses on condemned San Francisco property.

    Lyta Gold:            Yeah.

    Jessica Lamb:       I mean, if we want to talk about a villain arc I think a really interesting one, I mean, I would argue that the main villain in the first book is the school, right? I mean, that’s what everyone is trying to fight against. And yeah, I don’t know. I got real emotional in the second book as the Scholomance became a character and you look back to all of the actions that they’ve taken. It, they, I don’t know how the Scholomance identifies. But yeah, that they’ve taken in the first book in terms of helping El realize her power, even though it was really painful, the fact that the Scholomance could just kind of tap into what a student’s affinity is and help guide them is so useful.

    It would be extremely useful for literally any advisor, any teacher to just be able to look at you and be like, all right, I think you’re on this reading level. Have a personalized, customized learning plan for each student, right, based on where they are to offer proper challenge and support, having remedial education available if you can’t pass a certain level. If you can’t speak the language to do the spell you have to keep learning the language, and it’s going to suck, and you’re not going to want to do it. Yeah. In my most dictatory kind of moments, it would be a good power to have and that is my villain origin story, to bring it back to the villain.

    But of course then the school also misses out on the really beautiful parts of… Not watching the students struggle. Again, I don’t want to watch students struggle, but watching them figure out what they actually like to do, versus what they may be good at. But I think that they start to explore that a lot in the second book. People are just bringing their talents to things that they’re interested in and they do really start to find themselves in this plan to, again, blow up the school. So yeah, there’s a lot of education-type feelings.

    Lyta Gold:          See, the language thing is super interesting, Dan, if you want to get into that a little bit, since that’s such a feature of the storytelling.

    Dan Walden:        Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was one of the things I… At some point in the first book, she says she was really gunning for a proto Indo-European seminar in her senior year. And I lit up.

    Lyta Gold:              Nerd!

    Dan Walden:        But no.

    Lyta Gold:            Boo.

    Dan Walden:       One of the really interesting organizing principles that she uses in this world, and one that she’s caught some flack for, I think most of it undeserved, is that the students basically sort themselves into communities based on what languages they speak. And the two biggest ones are English speakers and Mandarin speakers. And basically, everybody speaks one of the two, at least as a second language. But there’s a very substantial community of Hindi speakers, because the spells are done in various languages, and she says, if you’re going on a spell casting track, there’s basically two options. You either go languages. So if you have more languages, you have access to more spells.

    And if it’s a very well-known, highly developed literary language, there’s usually a lot available. The other option they have is the creative writing track where they make up their own spells, which El attempted once and wound up with a spell for a super volcano.

    Lyta Gold:           I just want to say how much I love that the creative writing kids suck. That’s just a completely useless track. It’s like, that’s what my school was. Yeah, that was the track that I went on in school. Yeah, look how that helped me. Great.

    Dan Walden:  The way that Novik works out is, basically if you’re working on a language, you’re going to start getting spells in that language from the school to learn and the school –

    Lyta Gold:         Yeah. You have to avoid even reading too many flyers in Sanskrit.

    Dan Walden:         [crosstalk].

    Lyta Gold:              Otherwise the school will be like, oh, you know Sanskrit? Sick. Here’s a bunch of books in Sanskrit that you’re now going to be tested on.

    Dan Walden:          Right. Yeah. Yeah. The school’s definition of working on a language is extremely broad. I found that really amusing. At one point, El gets a book of like 99 useless household cleaning charms in old English. And she was like, well, fuck, I guess I have to brush up on this now. It comes in handy. This is a major plot point when she uncovers this old Sanskrit grimoire that was apparently copied in the enclave of Baghdad. So it’s in Sanskrit, but the script is Arabic, and it’s the grimoire of the original enclave building spells, and that becomes the basis for her big plan because she’s one of the only people who can pack enough power to actually pull that off.

    Adrian Rennix:     To make these tiny houses. The tiny houses book, and I love it.

    Lyta Gold:         Tiny houses book.

    Adrian Rennix:       The languages thing is terrifying.

    Lyta Gold:          Terrifying.

    Adrian Rennix:  Yeah, that you could even look at a book wrong, and you have to learn that language. As someone who’s terrible languages, there’s even a part where she says in the book where El’s describing, basically, if you have a kid who’s bad at languages, you’re better off not sending them to the school at all because they will die and you might as well try to protect them at home because that’s how it’s going to go. So it’s kind of just like, there’s just these various barriers to entry that people have to get in. And as someone who is very bad at languages, I was like, oh, that would’ve been me.

    Allegra Silcox:    Oh, I had two major reactions to the languages stuff that we’re talking about. One, Dan, you said you nerded out when she was doing her final seminar and she gets a special award for the extra effort that she puts into this translation work. And everyone’s very confused by this because basically, if you’re trying to survive, you are doing constant mental calculus for the exact amount of work you need to put into X, Y, and Z. Then you need to go home and do your pushups to build mana so that you can survive the graduation bloodbath. So every single thing that these kids do is extremely calculated to allow them to survive.

    And I thought about this, Jessica, when you said a lot of educators are just trying to get through the day, and that’s what the book really drives home is that all these people are just trying to survive the day and then make plan for how they can survive the next year while also having this distant eye toward, if I make it out of here alive, how am I going to continue to survive? So one, obviously very applicable for all of our memories of high school, thinking about how to get through the day, how to get into a college that is then going to allow you to have a career that allows you to survive in the world. But because El actually had a passion for understanding this particular tome because of her beautiful Johnny Appleseed tiny house plan that she has, something good comes out of that.

    So a lot of these things, she’s just incredible. Naomi Novik is just incredible, and there’s so many layers to everything. Because then I spent this time thinking about if you accept the status quo and the mental calculus that you’re supposed to do, it’s a risk, and it takes a lot of bravery and a lot of effort in order to try and think about doing something differently. Thinking about, I think that this book has something really incredible in it, so I’m going to put in the extra effort, even though I don’t actually know what the reward is going to be, I’m going to try and convince all these people to join my crazy plan to lure more dangerous, scary mals into the school so that I can then use my fun, super volcano spell that I accidentally made up one time to blow up the school.

    It makes it extremely clear exactly what the cost of deviating from the accepted patterns of behavior in the school are, just by making it obvious how crazy it was that she did extra work on her dissertation. Weird. I love her. I love her so much.

    Jessica Lamb:       I will say that. Oh, sorry. Go ahead.

    Lyta Gold:          No, go ahead. Go ahead.

    Jessica Lamb:        Oh, I was just going to say, well, before I forget, I do want to just quickly note that Naomi Novik does a really great job explaining a lot of stuff, including the fact that El is hot because she does a lot of workouts, just like labor is hot, and Orion is kind of explained in the same way. So sure, I’ll take your word for it.

    But I actually really dug the way El’s entire first half of the second year turned out. So basically she’s given this schedule where it’s a lot of extremely difficult seminars, and she has a free period, which is kind of fake because she spends it practicing spells to save younger students. And she spends a lot of time instead on that Sanskrit grim that Dan mentioned earlier, because she knows that there’s value in learning those skills. And some of the other classroom assignments kind of fall by the wayside, and she gets help from students and passes those classes.

    And all that is to say that, I think grades are fake, and I think that we shouldn’t use them. What you should get out of college and school is the skills that you can get out of it that’s actually useful to you and you shouldn’t stress out about classes that you just have to take because the school thinks you should.

    Lyta Gold:           There’s a really big question throughout of why any of the kids are going through the motions of school, or doing any of the things. And I think in the hands of a lesser writer, this would just be like Lord of the Flies. They would just be like kids attacking each other. But people really think like, if I do these things, if I just do what I’m supposed to do, what I’m told, and obey the rules, and I learn how to avoid the monsters in the cafeteria line, then I’ll be okay. Then I have a good shot at making it.

    And that fear is such an effective form of social control. It’s actually really… Again, there’s no adults. I mean, there’s really nobody forcing these kids to do anything. But their belief that, if I just obey the rules I’ve got a shot is sufficient to make them… Again, you would think, again, they’d be horrible to each other. They’d physically hurt each other. And other than the kids who go sort of dark wizard track and drink other’s mana, there’s really not much in the way of harming each other. There aren’t fights, there aren’t rapes, there aren’t things like that at all.

    Allegra Silcox:     And there are interesting things too though where they almost… in some ways when the kids kind of subvert the school’s intentions it’s because of these larger enclave dynamics and politics. There’s a whole thing that’s talked about a lot in the first book that because it’s not easy for wizards to enter from the outside to perform maintenance on the school, each student gets assigned a certain amount of maintenance tasks that they’re supposed to do. And in practice it’s supposed to be spread across the entire student body, but in reality what ends up happening is that the poorer kids, or the kids who are not part of the enclaves take and do all the maintenance in return for favors from the more well-off kids.

    I mean, if you want to be super literal about it, it’s kind of like what kids at your school had to work a part- or full-time job in order to make ends meet while they were going to school. But it is also just another example of how class dynamics play into everything that’s happening in the school, especially in the first book, and then in the second book about how some of those things start to be more acknowledged and broken down in some respects as they realize that they all actually do have to put in work together.

    Dan Walden: Yeah. Let’s talk about the kids sort of sticking with the status quo as a survival instinct. I mean, during when I was in graduate school, I mean, I taught undergrads for I think, combined, 10 semesters. And I would see this all the time, that you have young students, most of the time my students were first years who were one, conscious of the fact that they got into the University of Michigan. And so they got a leg up that a lot of people didn’t get, but they’re also extremely conscious of the precarity of their position, of the fact that post-2008, we are not living in the same economy we used to live in and it’s entirely possible and indeed likely that they will end up poorer than their parents.

    And the amount of anxiety that creates and the amount of stifling of their impulse to maybe do something that they might like in order to have a steady income to go with something safe in order to have a steady income and health insurance, something I saw over and over and over again. And it’s the same phenomenon. You see that played out in very elite private schools, and you see that played out at Harvard and Yale, the playing it safe is what leads people to go work for iBanks or work for McKenzie. This is how you make it, this is how you get comfortable, this is how you get a $200,000-a-year salary and not have to worry about things anymore.

    And yeah, along the way, all you did was just the stuff you were supposed to do, and you don’t see the harm that that does because that harm is removed from you. It’s out of sight. The whole system has been created to keep it out of sight. The other thing Novik does really well is that most of the enclave kids have no fucking idea what it’s like for other people. They don’t know –

    Lyta Gold:         Yeah, they are so clueless.

    Dan Walden:           Yeah. Novik’s very, very good. And this is one of the things I love about El’s realization. She can’t hate these people because it’s not their fault. They didn’t build this, and they’re totally clueless about, like Allegra said, totally clueless about how it works. She concludes very reluctantly they have to be part of the solution too.

    Lyta Gold:                 This is why El’s path radicalization is so simple and pure and perfect. It’s like, I will join the status quo. So she’s like, I will earn a path in an enclave spot. Then she goes to, I simply cannot. It’s immoral of me to even consider this, so I will reject the status quo. And then step three, I will moonraker the status quo and rebuild a new world from the ashes. I’m not saying I’m an accelerationist, but…

    Jessica Lamb:    Would that be your villain origin story? Moonraking the status quo?

    Allegra Silcox:      Some days, I would dearly love to, some days, particularly today. And vibes are bad out here, you guys.

    Lyta Gold:             Yeah. It’s a weird time. Yeah, getting back to the point that the enclave kids have to be brought in, and in the end, they’re not left behind, and they do learn to work with everybody which is actually very great and helpful because they have all these resources. There’s a great line in the second book when she’s talking about why this happens. This is in El’s narration. She says, “The enclave kids had been told, just like the school itself, that Manchester and London and their heroic allies who had built the Scholomance out of generosity and care trying to save the wizard children of the world. And maybe just like the school, it had sunk in more than their parents might have wanted. Or maybe if you only gave someone a reasonable chance of doing some good, even an enclave kid might take it.”

    So it’s kind of an interesting… Very often, the way that these things are set up is like, well, people misbehave and people are terrible to each other because they’re very poor, and they’re desperate, and they’re fighting each other to survive. This is the idea that the enclave kids, the rich kids are not… The enclave kids have the opportunity and the possibility of being good also. They’re set up to manipulate other people, they’re set up to hurt other people, they’re set up to just take the maintenance kids’ work, and not think about it, just think like, oh, that’s the way it is. You’re an enclave kid, then maintenance kids do the work for you.

    But if you put them in a position where they can actually take and feel solidarity with other people, they might go for it. And it’s a pretty radical proposition, and I want to think a lot of socialists would be very upset about me. We have all these fights all the time about who’s really working class and who’s really rich and all of that. But I think a lot of that gets away from the point of what incentives are you offering people? How do you incentivize solidarity above hierarchy, above survival? And it’s a complicated thing, but you actually can incentivize solidarity, and make that be the more… You give people the chance and the opportunity to do good. I don’t think everybody would go for it, but there’s certainly a lot of people who would go for it.

    Adrian Rennix:           Yeah. And it’s kind of funny too that even though in the second book, especially, El and Orion, who are these unusually gifted once-in-a-generation talents, they have this integral role in the plan that the student body is forming. But it’s interesting that every person has to contribute something or it won’t work. For example, there’s this one I really like. There’s this one character named Liesel who initially seems like she’s going to be kind of a villain character because she’s the gunner valedictorian who then gets kind of shown up by El because El’s been secretly doing this Arabic translation project that no one knew about [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:         Also very hot, Liesel.

    Jessica Lamb:      Yeah.

    Adrian Rennix:     Yeah, Liesel, very hot. And they have some kind of contentious run-ins. And then it turns out that because Liesel’s super organized and has a real eye for knowing what people’s talents are, is an incredible organizer, and she’s the one who’s kind of like, what we need to do to make our plan successful is have everybody do the thing that they’re really good at and look for places where they can be helpful. And so even though she kind of like… El’s like annoyed by her constantly because she’s super pushy, but she also has really great ideas, and there’s this similar energy throughout the entire book that you can’t…

    Obviously, there’s always going to be people who are at the front of movements, who are the faces of movements, or who have really special skills that make them important to movements, but also that every single person in the movement has something that they have to bring, and that no one can sit it out. So it’s a very kind of cool progression. And again, unexpectedly, you think that things are going to be simpler than they are, that it’s going to be kind of a simple hero narrative and that it ends up being this more like everybody has to try to find heroism in themselves in order to make it succeed.

    Allegra Silcox: I want to make it clear too, that if you haven’t read the books, we’re making it sound like… I think it’s still very fun to read even if you didn’t give a shit about capitalism or socialism or anything. There’s some books that I read and I’m like, wow, the heavy hand of the author trying to make me care about this allegory. It’s not it at all, and Naomi Novik’s a gem.

    Lyta Gold:        Yes. It’s really not allegorical in its way. It’s really like the stuff is below the surface, to be sure.

    Dan Walden:      Yeah. Or I would say the relationship is clear, but it’s not at all heavy-handed.

    Lyta Gold:               Yeah. That’s fair.

    Allegra Silcox:     Yeah. It’s just very interesting to me, and it feels extremely organic. So Lyta mentioned that I am the one who said this is a good capitalism metaphor, you should read it. On page 10 or something, I wanted to send that DM to Lyta. But because it wasn’t so obvious, I was like, oh, what if I say this, and she’s like, don’t see it, you’re an idiot. I spent my whole life avoiding Lyta calling me an idiot.

    Lyta Gold:          No. I would never.

    Allegra Silcox:         It’s just the deep need for her approval that I have. And then that’s why it’s so successful, and I feel this way about actually all of Naomi Novik’s writing, is that you’re truly led to the water and it’s your choice what you drink and how. Great book, love it.

    Lyta Gold:              So I want to close with two quick lightning rounds, if we can. First lightning round, just go around. Well, actually, maybe we’ll do three. First one is when, if you were a student in this school, at what point do you think you would die? Because I would die immediately. I would be like the first freshman killed, for sure. How long do you guys think you would make it?

    Adrian Rennix:    I hate that I think I would be successful, and then ultimately probably hang myself in my room out of guilt about my success. So maybe like junior year.

    Lyta Gold:             I see that.

    Jessica Lamb:     I think I would die in the middle of my second year. I think I would spend my first year trying to learn the rules and trying to figure things out, and then I’d get too comfortable. I would be like, yeah, I know how this works. I’m going to grind my way through this. And then I don’t know, I’m going to go to the bathroom by myself or something, and something’s going to get me.

    Allegra Silcox:      My only chance of survival would be to glom on to someone with more talent who is entertained by my banter and make them protect me. Because other than that, again, the languages thing, I wouldn’t be able to learn these spells. I would start to panic. I would go to the cafeteria, I’d be super hungry. I wouldn’t check the thing. The slugs would get me. There are just so many ways that could go wrong. So yeah, I need a lot of help, probably would die pretty early.

    Dan Walden:      50/50. Either I sleep in and get eaten sometime in my second year, or maybe I die during graduation because I am very, very, very good at languages.

    Lyta Gold:               You might.

    Jessica Lamb:       [crosstalk].

    Lyta Gold:           I don’t know who else would make it, actually.

    Jessica Lamb:        I was going to say that the only reason I’d survive till second year is because I do speak both English and Chinese, both Mandarin and Cantonese. Thank you, parents. Thank you for immigrating.

    Adrian Rennix:   Yeah, my fucking parents, I’m going to badly mispronounce the spell in Spanish, and accidentally implode my own face.

    Allegra Silcox:       Would any of us even have gotten into the school? I don’t think my parents could have got me a spot.

    Adrian Rennix:    Oh, no.

    Lyta Gold:              Oh, yeah. We’d probably just be eaten by mals in our own homes as teens.

    Allegra Silcox:      Yeah, yeah.

    Lyta Gold:               Yeah. You wondered if these wizards have horror movies, because what’s the point? We love our horror movies. Our teens get eaten, and that’s just their lives, that’s just their casual lives.

    Adrian Rennix:       Now, you know what, I’d plan a really great day, and then just hang out, basically become a honey pot trap for mals. Just have a really great day, and end on a high note with my friends.

    Lyta Gold:    I like that, actually.

    Allegra Silcox:        This reminds me of a Deep Space Nine episode I just watched, but I’m going to save you guys from my tangent.

    Lyta Gold:          All right, lighting round number two, real quick, what do you think your… So the Scholomance is going to figure out what your affinity is, and feed you spells that are related to it. What do you think your affinity would be? Could be for Dan as languages seem pretty obvious. Yeah, any ideas? I think I would blow things up, just a specific exploding things affinity. But again, I’m going to die very quickly in this scenario, regardless. So I might get to explode one classroom, and that’s it.

    Allegra Silcox:        I don’t know. Maybe some of the potion shit. What do they call it? Alchemy?

    Lyta Gold:             Yeah.

    Allegra Silcox: Because that seems tedious and boring, and something a type-A person would do, which, sadly, guilty. Yeah, because artificer is too hard. You’re telling me I have to do something with my hands?

    Lyta Gold:            [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:        You’re telling me I have to break a sweat. No, thank you.

    Lyta Gold:             No, not good at that.

    Dan Walden:         Based on my play style from when I used to play Magic: The Gathering, whatever my affinity would be, it would be extremely annoying.

    Allegra Silcox:     What kind of deck do you play? Never mind. Stop it. Stop it.

    Lyta Gold:            This is what I’m telling you about the ultimate nerd girl right here.

    Adrian Rennix:    Yeah. I don’t know. I assume the Scholomance would just be giving me weird medieval texts that were pretty funny and I enjoyed them, but I believe there were no spells involved, so I’m like, well, I don’t know what I was supposed to do with this. Yeah. No, all of the affinities that people have seem like they require some level of manual dexterity and also a mind for how systems work. Again, this is going to go poorly for me.

    Lyta Gold:            I could see getting a puns affinity, all of your spells are puns. It’s all just like [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:    Yeah, creative writing, but it’s just like all limericks.

    Lyta Gold:           Yeah.

    Adrian Rennix:       Okay, wait.

    Lyta Gold:        All medieval limericks.

    Adrian Rennix:  I figured it out. So in a lot of medieval Irish texts, satire is a thing that has magical power. If you satirize someone well enough, you can actually disfigure or kill them. So if that’s a thing –

    Allegra Silcox:     Are you fucking kidding me?

    Adrian Rennix: …I could probably do the satire track.

    Allegra Silcox:      Are you fucking kidding? Incredible.

    Adrian Rennix:  Yeah, yeah. No, you got to be careful. Actually, there’s a lot of stuff about lady satirists have a lot of power to, in a somewhat creepy non-consensual way, make kings have sex with them because otherwise, she’s going to write a satire about you and you’re going to lose your throne because people are going to think you’re a fucking idiot. So yeah, satire track, that’s mine. That’s probably it. It’ll work. No one will murder you.

    Jessica Lamb:         This is a build your own major school. No, I think I would want to be an artificer because I want to live my cottage core dream of just working with my hands and doing stuff. But let’s be honest, I’m a maintenance kid. I want things to work. I just want to fix things. Yeah, so I’m easily manipulated. Yeah.

    Lyta Gold:          But you would be very useful. This is part of your survival strategy because you’d make yourself so indispensable.

    Allegra Silcox:       Is it arrogant if I say that just whatever Liesel did, that’s probably what I would do?

    Lyta Gold:            I didn’t kind of want to say it, but you’re… Liesel reminded me of you, like a lot.

    Allegra Silcox:        Dan and I bet $5 that you would say I was Liesel. And you never did, and I was like, honestly, at this point I’m kind of offended that you don’t think I’m Liesel.

    Lyta Gold:              I was thinking 20 minutes ago, but I was like, what if she’s offended by that because Liesel does seem like kind of a bitch at first? [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:  She does. I mean, I’m both extremely flattered, and also going to murder you in your sleep, so –

    Adrian Rennix:     Liesel, the only person getting stuff done, and also taking the time to try to get laid at the Scholomance. So respect for Liesel, Liesel has it all figured out.

    Dan Walden:   Yeah.

    Lyta Gold:          Liesel apologist.

    Dan Walden:       Liesel, one of like three people in these books whoever has sex.

    Allegra Silcox:       Yeah. That’s actually what I would do, is I would start up the sex-ed program. Okay, so the background being, there’s a lot of angst about sex because there’s no way to do birth control with magic because of something, something magic. And so you’re like, if you get pregnant in the Scholomance, that’s really bad. That’s just not going to help your chance of survival. But apparently, either Naomi Novik doesn’t know, or none of these children know about hand jobs.

    Lyta Gold:            [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:       [crosstalk].

    Adrian Rennix:        They’re no teachers in this school except Allegra, who’s just a one-woman machine on the sex-ed track.

    Allegra Silcox:        Yes. Maybe the sex-ed booth is some language that no one understands at the Scholomance so they’re like, well, I hope that lesson wasn’t important.

    Dan Walden:        The angst of birth control and stuff, that’s… El is the only one who has that problem because El is the only relationship we see that’s heterosexual.

    Allegra Silcox:   Yeah, that’s true.

    Lyta Gold:             That’s true.

    Allegra Silcox:        That is true. Yeah.

    Lyta Gold:               Yeah. That’s true. El got… Her dad, there’s a tragic story with her dad, and so she’s like, oh, I don’t want to get pregnant, and then have a kid who doesn’t have a dad because they got eaten in graduation [crosstalk]. Classic teen problems.

    Allegra Silcox:     Her mom was pregnant when she left, and then her dad got eaten by the graduation hall, as one does. So yeah [crosstalk].

    Adrian Rennix:        I love the dead dad story that doesn’t result in daddy issues in the main character. She is just evil, but it has nothing to do with the abandonment, really, from her father. Just because her mother was really transparent about what happened.

    Allegra Silcox:    Yeah.

    Dan Walden:          I’d say the issues are from her dad’s extremely shitty family who tried to murder her when she was a baby.

    Lyta Gold:             Because she had an evil prophecy about her, which, you know, fair.

    Allegra Silcox:    Wait, you guys seriously, I checked my little Kindle highlights leading up to the podcast. Didn’t highlight very much. But all of the ones that I did highlight were insane, and she talks about like, “I’ve had that scream inside me since I was nine,” that I think was about when she thought she was going to be safe living with her family. But no, nope, she’s stuck out there. Tasty, tasty treat for all the mals that she and her mom are fighting off just in a hippie commune, just the two of them, no protection.

    Jessica Lamb:      To be fair, there is a certain kind of person who loves to get into competitions of strength about would you or would you not kill baby Hitler? So this is –

    Allegra Silcox:      Exactly.

    Jessica Lamb:         …Just like they got what they think might be a baby Hitler situation on their hands. So what are you going to do?

    Dan Walden:         Although they do note that, to sort of highlight how alarmed they were, and they note that this was a strict man of the Brothman family that was so committed to nonviolence that they refused to join the Mumbai enclave because the place wasn’t a strict mana.

    Lyta Gold:            Yeah, strict mana, yeah, meaning that you take mana from work.

    Dan Walden:         You never cheat work.

    Lyta Gold:           Yeah, you never cheat by stealing it from living beings, which is evil. Yeah. I don’t know. I’d probably cheat in this world, to be completely honest. That seems real easy, and seems like what… There are people who are jerks. I think that’s fair.

    Jessica Lamb:        I also just hate physical activity, I’ll be honest.

    Lyta Gold:            Yeah. Yeah. The idea of doing all of my pushups, [I would far] rather just eat somebody.

    Allegra Silcox:     Well, you can also knit, so that’s very Lyta-appropriate, but it’s like the more you hate what you’re doing, the more mana you get. So if you start liking to knit, then it’s like, oh, no more free points for you.

    Jessica Lamb:       But, yeah, there’s –

    Dan Walden:       Although, I do like the idea of building mana by getting hot.

    Adrian Rennix:       I’m just devastated by this idea of this world where I have to do a pushup, and then try to say something in another language [inaudible].

    Allegra Silcox:         And get literally no hand jobs.

    Adrian Rennix:   Yeah.

    Allegra Silcox:      You can’t get finger blasted –

    Adrian Rennix:   Apparently, nobody knows.

    Allegra Silcox:      …No hand jobs.

    Lyta Gold:               Nobody knows how to do hand stuff in this school at all, apparently. Speaking of hand stuff and hotness, our final lighting round, we’re going to do a fuck, marry, kill.

    Dan Walden:        All right.

    Lyta Gold:             All right. Ready for it. Fuck, marry, kill El, Orion, any monster, any of the monsters. Those are your three.

    Allegra Silcox:     You’ve set a trap for me. I don’t want to seem like one of the other girls.

    Lyta Gold:       I would marry the monster, I’m just saying it right now.

    Adrian Rennix:    I feel like you’ve set a trap for all of us because they’re teenagers.

    Lyta Gold:          I have. They’re teenagers.

    Allegra Silcox:  Oh, shit.

    Adrian Rennix:        Oh, shit.

    Lyta Gold:                Assume they’re 18. Okay? Presumably.

    Adrian Rennix:      Aged up. Aged up.

    Allegra Silcox:        [crosstalk].

    Adrian Rennix:    [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:       Age 18, and we don’t have to say what kind of monster we would marry.

    Lyta Gold:   Yeah, any monster. El, love her, great character, could not marry her. Could not. Orion, probably hot, probably a good lay [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:       Okay. I would marry El. I would marry El in a heartbeat. Big titty goth GF all the way, 10 out of 10. I don’t care how miserable she makes me. It’s worth it. Would fuck Orion. Would kill the mals. I mean, I’m sorry, there is not a single appetizing mal in the entire fucking gate.

    Lyta Gold:              [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:  There’s the maggot end of the spectrum, and then there’s the, if you even look upon it, you’ll be visited with a horror for the rest of your life.

    Dan Walden:          Yeah, you’re right. Yeah, they range from little bug to Lovecraftian horror.

    Lyta Gold:          Would you fuck the Lovecraftian horror?

    Dan Walden:          I don’t think that’s possible.

    Adrian Rennix:       I mean, one question I would have, again, I realize I have a one-track mind here, but I’m thinking about how to not die in this fucking school. If I marry the monster, will it be loyal to me and keep me alive? Because if that’s so I’ll marry the eldritch horror. That’s fine. [crosstalk].

    Lyta Gold:               Yeah, yeah. Maybe the marriage is you voluntarily feeding it mana instead of it eating you. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.

    Dan Walden:           Wait, the question is, if you marry a maw-mouth which has devoured other people, and there’s a lot to suggest that they’re still alive in there –

    Lyta Gold:       Is it a polycule?

    Dan Walden:        …Is that automatically polygamy?

    Lyta Gold:              Yeah, yeah, yeah.

    Allegra Silcox:         Yeah. You’re in a polycule now.

    Adrian Rennix:   I mean, but till death do us part Dan, the maw-mouths take it very seriously. You can never leave, ever.

    Lyta Gold:          You can never leave.

    Adrian Rennix:       Until you die.

    Lyta Gold:     Until you explode [crosstalk].

    Dan Walden:          Yeah, maw-mouths have a polyamorous… Maw-mouths are a cross between poly people and Catholics, apparently.

    Lyta Gold:             Oh God, it’s the worst combination of anyone [inaudible].

    Allegra Silcox:     It’s going to be some really gloomy Graham Greene kind of novel about wanting to divorce the maw-mouth, but not being able to bring yourself to do it. Yeah. So that’s the next, that’s going to be the fourth book in this series [inaudible].

    Lyta Gold:                I Married a Maw-Mouth.

    Jessica Lamb:      I think I would marry the mal collective. Right? If this is a polygamous situation with all the mals, so written contract and everything, I don’t play. And then I would both fuck and kill Orion. Okay, here’s my reason. Okay, I’d like Orion. Sure, a harmless golden retriever boy. Understood. So have a great experience, but I do have to kill you because you are incentivized to kill all of my wives, so –

    Allegra Silcox:    Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got to. He’s coming for your wife.

    Jessica Lamb:          …I have to protect her. Yeah. I assume [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:    Mister kill your girl. Mister kill girl is coming to get your wives.

    Jessica Lamb:       But I just want to kill him, have a good time, and then I just leave El alone. She’s got a lot going on. Yeah.

    Allegra Silcox:       Yeah. You know what? Leave El alone.

    Lyta Gold:             Did we get everybody down? Dan I don’t think we had a full –

    Dan Walden:         Yeah. I could marry El. She’s a busy working woman anyway. Absolutely bang Orion.

    Lyta Gold:           Yeah, yeah, yeah.

    Dan Walden:       And yeah, and let the Lovecraftian horrors die.

    Jessica Lamb:         And now we all know who played Renegade in Mass Effect.

    Allegra Silcox:        Screaming. Screaming. Yes. Okay. I was full Paragon. Leave me alone.

    Lyta Gold:           Oh, man.

    Allegra Silcox:     I just want solidarity for everyone. Okay?

    Lyta Gold:             And on that note, we will end it here and some other day do a Mass Effect episode, because we could get into it. But yeah, thank you all for coming, joining me today. Yeah. Guys, have any last things, anything you want to plug or talk about, or any more weird sex things you want to speculate on?

    Allegra Silcox:   Well, I was about to profess my love for you. But on that ending, it’s going to sound a little perverted, I guess.

    Lyta Gold:            Yeah. Well I’m not a Lovecraftian horror though, so I feel a little… I’m not like a polycule of monster wives, which [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:       As far as we know.

    Lyta Gold:              As far as we know.

    Dan Walden:        [crosstalk].

    Allegra Silcox:      I mean, but spiritually, you are, and that’s what matters to me, is what’s inside.

    Dan Walden:          I was going to say everyone needs goals to work toward.

    Lyta Gold:            All right. Yeah. So all right, next episode we’re going to work on those goals, and we’ll be in touch. But anyway, thanks panel for joining me. Thanks to all our listeners for listening to Art for the End Times. If you’d like to hear more of the show, if you’d like to hear the other wonderful shows on the Real News Network, please subscribe to the Real News Network feed, and you can get all the shows at once. Thanks again, and we’ll catch you next time.

    This post was originally published on The Real News Network.

  • What role does fiction have to play in the class struggle? Should the left be making a stronger case for the political importance of reading literature? In this special Working People episode, which has been months in the making, TRNN Editor-in-Chief Maximillian Alvarez talks with writer and editor Sarah Lazare about her novel Testimony, which she co-authored with her late father, Peter Lazare. Testimony is a leftist crime thriller that takes place in Springfield, Illinois, at the height of the “war on terror” panic in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. It is also a deeply moving story about trust, commitment to everyday people, and fighting the corrupt, self-serving, and nefarious forces that weaponize fear for their own gain.

    As the back cover of the book describes, “Testimony isn’t about One Great Man taking on the system, but about one okay, flawed person working with a rag-tag team of other okay, flawed people to combat a system of cynicism and greed much bigger than them.” In this deep and wide-ranging conversation, Alvarez talks with Lazare about the book itself, about her father and the long process of getting the book ready for publication, and about the important role genre fiction has to play in our collective fight for a better world. This episode also features segments of dramatic readings from Testimony performed by Alvarez, Lazare, and friends of the show Adam Johnson (Citations Needed) and Mel Buer (Morning Riot). And a special thanks to Working People producer Jules Taylor for all his hard work editing the episode!

    Additional links/info below…

    Featured Music (all songs sourced from the Free Music Archive at freemusicarchive.org): Jules Taylor, “Working People Theme Song”


    Transcript

    A transcript for this podcast will be made available as soon as possible.

    This post was originally published on The Real News Network.