From Bauhaus to Our House

Tom Wolfe is a journalist and apparently has some sort of background in architecture, based on his vast knowledge of architectural history. This book is not necessarily about drafting or architectural technique or anything of that sort, but more about the world of the architect in the 20th century. He focuses on a group of architects that build "The International Style" in the middle of the 1900's and make this new style less of a trend than a requirement for success in the architectural world. Wolfe is obviously biased against this group's style of building design (constant use of the terms "boring", "boxy", and equally unflattering terms), but he makes many great points about the way this group of "artists" worked in their field of expertise.

The main question that this book raised in my mind was about the art world in general. The men written most in this book were critics of everything that didn't fall into their own style of design. They shunned and ridiculed those that didn't have the same "less is more" mentality and constantly scoffed at classic works of architectural greatness calling all ornamentation and unnecessary decoration "bourgeoisie". The fact that most of their design was only admired by and the architects were only employed by the bourgeoisie they claimed to detest was lost in their bloated heads. The question of the art world that the book raised to me was involved in this pride that the architects felt for their own work and colleagues. They were elitists that would not accept any other form of art as equal to their own pristine style. This attitude made most who didn't like the "International Style" into those who just didn't understand their brilliance and turned regarded them as lesser architects/critics/art lovers. This mentality is what made the "International Style" into the most used (and overused) style of architecture of the 1900's.

Finally, the question that was most prevalent during my read was: how much of art trends and the art world in general is based on undecipherable code and intimidating peer pressure. In my life the only place where peer pressure has defined my taste (that I can remember, anyhow) is in the realm of music. I have probably done this same pressuring myself. I don't really have an answer to this question, but maybe someday I will. How much of our artistic taste is formed because of peer pressure? Hmmm....

Sherman Alexie

I have never been too interested in reading about Native Americans. It isn't that I didn't like their culture or that I just assumed that the Native American experience wasn't interesting, it just never occurred to me that modern Indian culture had such universal problems. I had always just assumed that the life of a reservation Indian would be similar to the life of any non-native American's. After reading some of Sherman Alexie's short stories and his young adult novel, I realize that I am most likely wrong about that. I'm sure that Alexie is not able to write an account that doesn't somewhat exaggerate (or possibly over spotlight) the problems of the late 20th and early 21st century Indians, so I will not say that I was totally wrong about Reservations being similar to small towns (I would need to do more research to fully abandon that idea.)

I think the number one thing I thought about while reading these books was the despair that Alexie put into his Indian characters when they thought about their past and looked towards their future. The characters would see their beloved tribal tradition fading away, and in it's place there is a hopeless reservation culture that is defined by poverty, alcoholism and "Indian tears." (I quote that because it is a phrase commonly used in Alexie's books.) Although some of the characters are able to move on from their hopelessness, the way that this happens is through assimilation into the white culture around them.

I wonder how common this was when a civilization was overrun and allowed to live outside of their occupier cultures. I suppose this is different than most occupations because a new country and new culture was built on the lands of the occupied. Imagine if someone broke into your home and you had a long, bitter battle over control of the house, and when it was over instead of kicking you out the people occupying your house gave you and your family a couple of their extra rooms to inhabit. How would that feel to wake up everyday in a two room basement apartment and hear the sounds of a party upstairs in the home that you and your family lived in and loved. Then the occupants of your home change everything about the house, the layout, the paint, everything until it didn't look like your house anymore. I think that would be pretty depressing. I might start drinking. I might start forgetting what the house looked like before. I might forget what it was like to live in that house completely. Then I might just become a basement apartment dweller and pass that culture on to my kids, because taking back the house is beyond possible at this point, and it wouldn't even be the same house anyways. I wonder how long it would take for my family to just die out completely.

Anyways, this book made me think a lot about things I have never thought about before. It also made me feel a lot of emotions for people I didn't even know needed sympathy. Reading this author was a very great experience. If I was ever a literature professor, I would make Sherman Alexie required reading.

Statement of Purpose

This is my hundred and eleventieth online journal. This journal has been created because it will serve a different purpose than that of my blogs that already have been left to die a slow, unread death. Surely this one will serve the same fate of being unread, but hopefully it will allow me the opportunity to put my experience of self-education into permanent records. Because this will be less personal than my other blogs and online journals, I hope that it's life will be less short-lived and moody. I plan to write about what I am reading and learning throughout my time away from formal education. This could last six months, six years, or even six decades.

If you are not me and are reading this publication, feel free to criticize, commend, or expand on my efforts through the comment boxes below my ramblings.

For those of you who are not me, thanks for checking it out.