Crop Receipts

Josephine has a new blog, and here she is writing about what it’s like to be an overseas academic visiting the UK:

The suggested dossier includes: full bank statements for the last six months with explanations of any unusual deposits; a letter from their bank confirming the balance and the date the account was opened; documentation of the origin of any money paid into the account; payslips for the last six months; recent tax returns; and evidence of income from any property or land, including property deeds, mortgage statements, tenancy agreements, land registration documents and crop receipts…

One Hundred Things Norman Geras and I Corresponded About Over the Last Decade

Country music (including but not limited to Johnny Cash, Emmylou Harris, Allison Krauss, and its relationship to suicide) — Marxism — The war in Iraq — The case the British government made for the war in Iraq — Media coverage of the war in Iraq — Differences between British and American media coverage of the war in Iraq — Dead socialists (including the question of whether or not Paul Sweezy was in fact dead: he wasn’t when we began corresponding on the question, but later he was) — Favourite novels — University admissions — Boycotts of Israelis — Blog technology issues — The paradox of democracy — Paul “The Thinker” Richards — Defamation law — French headscarves laws — International rugby partisanship — New Zealand and whether it is a dull country — Amnesty International — Italian anti-war demonstrations — Christopher Hitchens — The precise distance from Boulder, CO to Birmingham, AL — My Normblog Profile — The number of Red Sox supporters who have Normblog profiles — Where the Wild Things Are — Bob Dylan — Favourite films — A Mighty Wind — Nashville — Joan Baez — George W. Bush — The Hutton Inquiry — Lucio Colletti — Why the film Life is Beautiful is so terrible — The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind — Mobile telephones — Cricket — The various ways in which my students used to pronounce the name “Geras” — Rock stars — Exam marking — Arnold Lobel and his Mouse Tales — The Butler report — The Campo de’ Fiori in Rome — Shakespeare plays — Obnoxious right-wing writers (including Mark Steyn and Andrew Bolt) — American airport security checks — Terrorist threats — Socialist Register — The 2004 US Presidential election — Baseball — Visiting Oxford — Thomas Hobbes — Roman libraries — Classical composers (especially Schubert) — Jokes about rational choice theorists — The Tour de France — Etienne Balibar — Favourite actors — The excellence of kittens (and, more generally, cats) — American street names — Wendy Cope — Footnotes in Capital — Umpiring — Passport applications — Margaret Thatcher’s resignation — Margaret Thatcher’s poetry —  Jews for Justice for Palestinians — Chavez and anti-Semitism — Academic plagiarism — David Aaronovitch as marathon runner — x-RCP front organisations — Robert Wokler — Academic jobs — Musicals — Australia — The rubbish-collection regime in Oxford — Tony Judt — Whether or not the Euston Manifesto was part of a “common, hysterical defense of the Anglo-Dutch financial system, and their permanent right to loot the economies of the world” — American practices of memorialization on campus — Flooding in Oxford — The Beatles — Jerry Cohen’s valedictory lecture — The New Left Review — Loyalty oaths — A Dance to the Music of Time — Merton College, Oxford — Visiting Manchester — Critical opinions about America — Puzzles involving marbles — Traffic robots — The Beach Boys — Tony Blair’s relationship with God — Bernard-Henri Levy looking funny in photographs — Authorisations to use military force — John Stuart Mill on international intervention — The Eurovision Song Contest  — Adam Smith — Nick Cohen’s views about torture — Alfred Hitchcock films — The thorny question of whether seven-times Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong was on drugs — The problems of travelling between Oxford and Cambridge.

Biggest regret? In July 2004, Norm wrote, “Might you have an interest in watching a Test or some part of one with me?”, and I never took him up on the suggestion.

His final words of the correspondence, from the start of this month: “My own care from the NHS has been exemplary.”

“Parle-moi de ma mère!”

So this term I’m teaching a somewhat unusual class this term called “Political Thought in the Age of Les Misérables”, for which I was flipping through Edward Copping’s 1858 guidebook, Aspects of Paris. It’s not a great book, but I liked this bit, on pp. 184-7, where he addresses the issues that matter.

‘There is another blemish in modern French drama’, Copping writes, ‘not so serious as those already alluded to, but claiming nevertheless a word of remark’.

Continue reading ““Parle-moi de ma mère!””

Who Do You Think You Are Kidding, Mr Dacre?

So this evening I’m sitting on a train, and I’m thinking about the Daily Mail and its recent interest in the Miliband family. I’m thinking about the photos of Viscount Rothermere with senior Nazis, as I have been all day, including Adolf Hitler and Josef Goebbels, and of the telegram he sent to ‘my dear Fuhrer’ following the Munich Agreement, in order to ‘salute your Excellency’s star, which rises higher and higher’.

I’m thinking of the Mail’s most famous article of all, ‘Hurrah for the Blackshirts!’, but I’m not thinking just of that article, but of other ones too. I’m thinking of the same newspaper’s campaigns to deny Jews fleeing persecution sanctuary in this country, as well as of its much more recent efforts directed against vulnerable refugees and asylum-seekers. I’m thinking about the distinctive whiff of anti-Semitism that emanates from the gratuitous reference to ‘the jealous God of Deuteronomy’ in today’s non-apology to the Milibands, and I’m thinking to myself, well why don’t they just call them rootless cosmopolitans and be done with it?

I’m also thinking about Roderick Spode and his Black Shorts in their footer bags, and of the way that Fascists really don’t like to be laughed at. (Recently I’ve been thinking about Paolo di Canio, too.) And I’m thinking of the English Defence League sieg-heiling recently on Whitehall, right next to the statue of another Viscount, Lord Alanbrooke, who made a certain contribution towards the defeat of National Socialism. I’m thinking of what the historians have called ‘the myth of the Blitz’—when we were perhaps just a bit more in it together than we’ve been more recently—and I’m thinking that if you have to have myths in order to underpin conceptions of national identity, and that you probably do, then this isn’t such a bad one to have, all things considered.

So I’m thinking of my Keep Calm and Carry On mug, and of the poster that inspired it, and, although I’m a republican, I’m thinking of the film The King’s Speech, as well as the film The Queen, and of the ways in which these films (despite their flaws) can resonate in a certain kind of a way—as do the lyrics to the Dad’s Army theme song (and I suppose I’m also thinking of my grandfather’s service in the Home Guard).

And I’m thinking, it just so happens, of the last time that we had a Coalition government in this country, and I’m thinking of the contribution that the trade unions made to winning the War, and also about how it was the Labour Party that won a landslide in the 1945 General Election—and I’m thinking too of the National Health Service, which is currently looking after me, as it is looking after so many millions of others, and of what a remarkable civilisational achievement it is. (And thinking about the NHS also leads me on to think, but only briefly and in passing, because he really isn’t worth it, about the ridiculous Jeremy Hunt, who was offering his opinion about the Milibands this morning.)

I’m thinking also of my own parents, who were children during the War, which provided them with so many of their earliest memories, such as that of watching English cities burn. In a somewhat different register, I’m thinking about how much I enjoyed Kazuo Ishiguro’s novel, The Remains of the Day, once upon a time, and I’m thinking as well of my own teacher Ross McKibbin’s arguments, which I heard him set out in his Ford’s Lectures in British History, about how, over the course of the War, public opinion shifted towards a view that those leading figures in public life who had sought to appease Hitler and the Nazis were traitors.

I’ve been thinking about how I never met Ralph Miliband, or heard him speak, but of how much I’ve enjoyed reading his books over the years, especially his masterpiece, The State in Capitalist Society, which I used to tell my first-year Politics students to read with care. I’ve also been thinking about how privileged I’ve been in my own academic life to have had at least some dealings with some members of that extraordinary older generation of academic Jews whose lives were upended by the catastrophe that befell midcentury Europe, but who were able, as so many others were not, to make their way to safety in Britain, the United States, and elsewhere.

Finally, I’m thinking about the way that if Ed Miliband’s One Nation Labour is to amount to anything worthwhile—if it isn’t simply to be a vacuous mush that serves as a rhetorical overlay to some kind of New Labour Mark Two—then it has to be clear what it is against, as much as what it is for; to exclude and to marginalise and to stigmatise and to accuse, as well and as much as to include and to celebrate, to commemorate and to affirm.

And this evening I feel that I might really be able to get behind One Nation Labour, in a way that I really didn’t before.