Book 30: Soccer and Philosophy

Soccer and Philosophy: Beautiful Thoughts on the Beautiful Game

Edited by Ted Richards

With the women's World Cup currently underway in Canada, I figured that now was as good a time as any to grab Soccer and Philosophy. Having read the series installment about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I had an idea of what to expect: a surprisingly successful blend of serious philosophy and pop-culture passion. This is, much to the editor's credit, precisely what the book delivers, with very few exceptions. Ted Richards balances a healthy number of heavily academic papers with more casual offerings, increasing the book's appeal to a broad audience; indeed, the myriad references to soccer's most famous personalities, teams, and games may provide a greater barrier to entry than similar references to philosophers or particular schools of thought. This sense of purpose and passion, combined with a sensible thematic organization, results in an academic book that is welcoming and remarkably readable, particularly considering the inherent complexity of many of the ideas explored within.

Whether by editorial direction or their own benevolence, most of the contributors manage to introduce and engage serious philosophical inquiries without overwhelming the uninitiated or resorting to condescension. Their universal appreciation of soccer is evident throughout their work, and the book is doubtless better for it. One senses that each chapter is, in its way, a labor of love, and numerous references to personal experience serve to humanize and illustrate concepts that are otherwise entirely abstract. It is clear that each author plays, watches, and thinks deeply about the beautiful game just as their audience does, and it is a pleasure to examine it alongside them. This is, perhaps unexpectedly, most evident in the biographies that follow the primary text. To say that they are wildly entertaining would be a tragic understatement, at best, and if this is the philosopher's idea of a serious academic biography I fear that I have chosen the wrong field.

Intended more for philosophically minded soccer fans than for those who don't understand the appeal of a game with so little scoring (and not infrequently none at all), the book rewards close reading and consideration even in its drier moments. Plenty of famous thinkers, from Plato to Nietzsche, make cameo appearances, often in several different chapters, and the net effect is to render philosophy accessible to readers who may identify first and foremost as sports fans. Neither lightweight nor impossibly obtuse, the book examines such weighty concepts as the role of the individual and state in determining and enforcing the law, the literally revolutionary impact of the Magical Magyars, and the ways in which soccer reflects the entirety of human experience and, in its way, life itself. In seeking to answer the most basic and most complex questions about our engagement with this of all sports, Soccer and Philosophy offers an engaging experience for fans who want to dig deeper, to question the obvious, and to share their appreciation for the beautiful game.

Grade: A

Book 37: Caribou

Caribou

Charles Wright

I don't have much of a history with poetry, and certainly not modern poetry, but as I now find myself in charge of some significant archival collections pertaining to American poets I figured that there's no time like the present to reacquaint myself with the poetic. I was intrigued by the promises and quotes on Caribou's jacket and picked it up. I was, alas, somewhat disappointed, finding a few gems but largely feeling that the poems suffered from a lack of consistency, both internally and throughout the collection. Some motifs, such as Wright's reliance on nature as the source of recurring metaphors, are consistent throughout the book, but it often proves difficult to move from one poem to the next- or even one stanza to another. Some poems are seemingly at odds with their titles in ways that did not enhance my understanding or experience of the poetry, and others seem to shift without warning or a poetic purpose that I (in my admittedly limited experience and knowledge) could discern. That said, there are a few truly beautiful standouts in this collection. Wright is at his best when pondering the transcendent nature of life, whether in short bursts such as "Whatever Happened to Al Lee?" or longer, almost narrative pieces like "Little Elegy for an Old Friend". There is occasionally a thrilling beauty to be found in lines that leap off the page, even within some of the poems that, taken as a whole, grasp unconvincingly at coherence. At its best, Wright's poetry explores life from an existentialist outlook, grabbing readers with sharp observations; even at its worst, it is far from incomprehensible or indulgent for its own sake. The majority of the poems, even those I didn't quite get, offered me some intellectual fodder, which is, in a way, all you can really ask of a poetry collection. Nothing drastically altered my outlook on life, but there are a few lines and shorter stanzas that lend themselves well to repeated rumination. Overall, I found Caribou to be an interesting collection containing a lot of beauty, meaning, and wisely stated truths for those who are willing to overlook some of its weaker points and pan for its gold.

Grade: B

Book 18: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy

Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy: Fear and Trembling in Sunnydale
Edited by James B. South

This collection of thoughtful essays seeks to extrapolate some of the deep, intrinsic philosophical elements from the first six seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and present them together in a well-constructed, thoughtful, and full volume. For the most part, James B. South has assembled a solid collection of essays that comment on various different aspects of the beloved cult show, and although there can be some repetition of themes between different essays, the fact that there are some points of conflict only serves to strengthen the collection and, in turn, reflect positively on the complex nature of the show. Most striking is the volume's final essay, "Feeling for Buffy: The Girl Next Door," by Michael P. Levine and Steven Jay Schneider, which seeks to undermine Buffy scholarship first (somewhat successfully) by arguing that critics take it far too seriously; they then, however, apply an overwrought Freudian analysis to the show and destroy their own low-key, non-academic credibility, falling prey to the same narrow academic focus that draws their ire. South's decision to place this essay at the end of the collection is, I believe, a thoughtful and good one, but the work itself disappoints in its latter half and makes the whole thing go out with a whimper instead of the intended, and quite achievable (and appropriate, given Whedon & co.'s tendency to undermine everything) bang.

Other essays, however, fulfill their purposes more effectively, though many simply fit Buffy narratives into greater philosophical frameworks, using the show to illustrate philosophical principles rather than examining the philosophy of the show. One of the best essays is the first, "Faith and Plato" by Greg Forster, which provides an overview of different philosophical principles evident throughout Buffy. Along with familiar explorations of Buffy as a feminist icon and, more importantly, as a woman, the collection includes essays about the treatment of religion and science within the Buffyverse. Most illuminating, however, are the essays that stretch the lessons of Buffy and project them onto pressing moral issues. "'My God, It's Like a Greek Tragedy,'" by James B. South, successfully explores the ways in which Willow's story arcs, which disappoint so many fans of the show, illustrate a very real phenomenon and perhaps hit closer to home than viewers would like to acknowledge. Also exceptionally strong is "Justifying the Means: Punishment in the Buffyverse," wherein Jacob M. Held uses the show to argue for a utilitarian view of punishment, where punishment is meted out to produce the best overall results for society.

This essay is a good example of using Buffy as an exemplar of philosophical principles, but though interesting is far outstripped by Jason Kawal's "Should We Do What Buffy Would Do?," which uses the show to build an interesting argument about the utility of moral exemplars, let alone Buffy Summers as a specific example. Likewise seeming to undermine a bit of the mysticism ascribed to the show by Whedon worshipers is Neal King's "Brownskirts," which paints a picture of a Buffyverse not so far away from fascism. These essays are merely the highlights in a solid collection that is accessible to newcomers to philosophy and which contains respectable arguments and well-written prose throughout. The main drawback of the collection is the fact that it only covers seasons 1-6; there are a few essays where examination of season 7 would have added quite a bit to the discussion (particularly the essays on feminism and sharing the female spirit). Blame, however, cannot be placed upon the authors for this and the collection is nevertheless a good and varied testament to the merits and depth of the show. Unabashedly taking difficult subjects head on and including essays that differ in perspective and conclusions, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy offers thoughtful and enjoyable philosophical insights into the Buffyverse and our own world.

Grade: A-

Book 5: Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar

Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar: Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes
Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein

There isn't too much to be said for this book, which basically lives up to its title and provides readers with a fun, quick glossary of major philosophical terms as the authors liven up an esoteric and thought-based discipline. Divided into sections covering everything from metaphysics to metaphilosophy, Cathcart and Klein construct a sort of narrative, traveling through the most important philosophical questions in an order that makes sense and with astounding clarity. Jokes aside, it is clear that the authors know their philosophy and bring a genuine desire to help readers gain an understanding of the field, difficult as it may be. The jokes, of course, do not hurt and in fact the authors are able to deftly pull off the whole conceit: philosophy may in fact be at its best and most accessible when revealed through these jokes, all of which sufficiently illustrate a principle as intended and many of which deserve audible chuckling or re-telling. Recurring characters Dimitri and Tasso introduce and conclude each chapter with a bit of weak shtick, but they do provide a way for readers to see how the philosophy to follow (or preceding) can arise from questions puzzling real (or are we?) people living in the real (or is it?) world. Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar will provide a basic philosophical background to newcomers but, more importantly, has great value as a reference book as well, ready to clarify with solid examples. While its authors can exude a bit too much comedic bravado in their passages introducing philosophical principles and the jokes that (always brilliantly) illustrate them, Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar is a quick, entertaining, and accessible guide to philosophy, which after all may well deserve to be approached with tongue firmly in cheek.

Grade: A

Book 4: The Truth of Buffy

The Truth of Buffy: Essays on Fiction Illuminating Reality
Edited by Emily Dial-Driver, Sally Emmons-Featherston, Jim Ford, and Carolyn Anne Taylor

Pop culture is often maligned for being throwaway entertainment, and it may therefore seem somewhat strange to see a minor network's show about a teenage girl battling various demons praised with the critical acclaim and academic study afforded to Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Buffy does, however, probe deep and complex philosophical and moral issues throughout its seven-season run, the variety of which is reflected in the essays of The Truth of Buffy. Tackling issues raised in and developed by Buffy, various academics explore the academic side of popular culture and universally defend the ability of a genre-bending cult phenomenon to be both popular and smart. While some essays, such as baffling show-off "Is It Art," which wastes its pages showcasing the author's knowledge of classical art while almost completely ignoring "Hush," perhaps the series's best episode, fall into typical academic pitfalls, the quality of the essays is generally passable. "Not Just Another Love Song" and "The Ants Go Marching" tackle the particular uses of music in the series, providing interesting insights into some of the art of television as displayed in Buffy. Other essays, such as "What Shall Cordelia Say?," "Witchy Women," and "Is That Stereotype Dead" get a bit off track but adequately work to put Buffy in a greater artistic context, exploring the way that the show plays off of predecessors like Shakespeare or within the context of modern Native American stereotypes.

The most successful and, therefore, interesting essays are, however, the pieces that examine the content of Buffy over several of its seasons and examine the way in which the series illuminates life. "Lord Acton Is Alive and Well in Sunnydale" provides an interesting, if somewhat stunted, look at power politics in the Buffyverse and would form an excellent basis for a further probe. Likewise, "Willow's Electric Arcs," which examines the power of interpersonal connections to affect our actions, seems like a specific case-study in what could well become a larger examination of human psychology and moral choice. Several essays, in fact, tackle the peculiarly deep moral questions offered by Buffy and the Scoobies as they discover that simple good/bad distinctions do not function in the real world or, in fact, in Sunnydale. "I'm Cookie Dough" offers a post-feminist reading of Buffy, thoughtfully and intelligently engaging questions of Buffy's status as a feminist icon, coming to a reasonable conclusion by avoiding the shrillest voices on either side of the debate.

Overall, the essays in The Truth of Buffy may falter at points, with none seeming to be a piece of standout scholarship, but taken together they provide a strong starting point from which fans of the show can begin a more academic exploration of the many merits of the show, as a work of art, an intellectual playpen, or as a product of the context in which it was created and viewed. Essays such as "Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs" even have resonance beyond the series, placing it in an artistic context as a teleplay and providing long-time viewers with an explanation of why the series hangs so many lampshades and how this practice affects the show and its viewers. Most delightful to Buffy fans, however, will be a study of the myriad allusions that make the show a witty viewer's delight. "Texting Buffy: Allusions of Many Kinds" only begins to scratch the surface regarding the show's beloved tactic of dropping as many references as possible. Dealing only with outside references (ignoring inter-episode allusions and inside jokes), the authors statistically study the pop-culture name-dropping that makes Buffy so intelligent, probing the reasons why Xander, for example, makes the most and why Andrew, present for only two seasons, makes 3% of the show's references. The essay is, like the others, loving and appreciative of the depth and artistry of Buffy. The Truth of Buffy may not meet the highest of academic standards and may not contain the most well-written material, but it should please Buffy fans as a jumping-off point to explore the richness provided by, yes, a show about a teenage girl killing vampires.

Grade: B+

Book 49: The End of Mr. Y

The End of Mr. Y
Scarlett Thomas

There is so much to say about this book, but it's quite hard to get at its essence and properly review it without giving too much away, I think. The End of Mr. Y is an incredibly philosophical novel that can beat you over the head with its own cleverness at times, but which ends up being quite satisfying in both the philosophical quandaries and the story it presents. Thomas is easygoing with her difficult science concepts and if her narrator Ariel is a bit stuck-up at times, it only fits her character and isn't grating or annoying to the reader. Ariel is quite a compelling woman, flawed enough to make the story seem genuine but not so much as to turn the reader off completely; sure, she plays fast and loose with vile language, but this style of writing fits the character and allows for an interesting juxtaposition with some very heavy science material. The science in this book does require readers to think, but is presented lightly enough to be accessible and in quantities that fit the plot of the book and allow a critical reader to keep up with a little mental jogging. The book is not perfect, of course, and some plot elements seem unneccesary and/or undeveloped, while others take up far too much room in repetition. The book does brilliantly conceive of different ways to view reality and evokes its images beautifully while probing the mind of a unique and compelling heroine. The End of Mr. Y is not a book for those who simply wish to sit back and absorb a book; the intricacies revealed by Ariel's trips to the mysterious and wonderful Troposphere raise questions about the nature of science, language, religion, and reality itself. To say more would diminish the power of this book and the sense of wonder one has when embarking on its journey for the first time. The End of Mr. Y is an interesting commentary on science, literature, and the nature of reality that will reward enterprising readers and that only rarely sacrifices its story for its philosophical purposes.

Grade: A-