A Christmas Carol

I haven't read A Christmas Carol in almost 15 years - since 7th grade, in fact. It's a short read and this year I decided to take another stab at it.

What is most surprising about the story is not the plot itself - we've all probably seen a hundred adaptations of it by now - but how vivid the setting, and by contrast how lacking in imagination is Scrooge's conversion.

It is a little strange to describe Charles Dickens as lacking in imagination, but there you are. Dickens saw, and clearly saw, the problems of Victorian England - the filth, the poverty, the wretched inequality and the exploitation of children. But he completely failed to understand why those problems came about, and how they might be resolved.

Scrooge refuses to give to charity, won't go to his nephew's Christmas dinner, underpays his clerk and forces him to toil in a freezing-cold little office. Why? Dickens' only excuse for Scrooge's meanness is that he had simply forgotten how wonderful Christmas was, and a few examples were all that was needed to bring him around (what a shame Scrooge did not have a photo album). It does not occur to Dickens, perhaps, that paying workers low wages and scrimping on coal make a certain economic sense and are not usually done out of pure spite.

Of course, if the sole reason that Scrooge is a miser is human cruelty, then the only possible remedy is human kindness - and here we see the same theme repeated over and over in his other books, that of a kindhearted rich man coming along and solving everyone's problems with bags of gold. Dickens simply can't face the idea that the system might be producing problems by design - if only people would be nice to one another, everything would be fine.  Maybe so, but for a renowned social critic a response like that is simply an evasion. 

A Few Words on the Edge of the Fiscal Cliff

With the fiscal cliff fast approaching, let's take a moment to reflect before plunging downward.

The 'fiscal cliff' is a not-at-all alarmist term for a set of spending cuts and tax increases that will go into effect at midnight, December 31st, if Congress doesn't act. The GOP is taking the opportunity to demand we deal with our long-run deficit problem RIGHT THIS INSTANT or they'll crash the economy just to be make a point - deficits, of course, are only a problem when a Democrat is in office.

Mr. Burns explains:

Most of the Very Serious People in media and politics have decreed that 'both sides' will have to offer 'painful concessions' - in other words, The Republicans will have to acquiese to certain tax increases and defense cuts, while the Democrats will have to allow for cuts in Social security and Medicare.

Here's the problem: asking for some spending cuts and revenue increases certainly makes sense in the long term, but with unemployment still doggedly around 8% what the country needs is more investment, not less.

Even more importantly, if you really believe that the deficit is a problem, Social Security and Medicare don't add to the debt at all. Both are funded through specially dedicated levies (or taxes) which are seperate from the budget as a whole. Social Security is estimated to start losing money in 2033, while Medicare is completely solvent up until 2024.  At that point, the programs do not 'go broke' - they simply start spending more money than they take in, and will require money from the general budget to keep going - like every other government program.

In other words - this is more or less a scam. Republicans hate entitlements so they want to get rid of them. The deficit is only an excuse; if the programs were free they'd still try to get rid of them.

The good news is that even as the GOP refuses to budge from their anti-tax orthodoxy,  we still have a month or so before things really start getting hairy. For that month the only real loser will be the stock market, but at least they can blame the Republicans.

Sing-Along Messiah

This Sunday was the annual Sing Along Messiah at the Judson Memorial Church near Washington Square. I attended for the third year in a  row.

Singing in the Messiah is a lot more fun than just listening to it. Choral works - especially religious ones - tend to sound like a big polyphonic mush with dozens of voices blending together. When you're inside a chorus and following the music, each moving part seems far more organic and distinct.

One thing, though - the endless melismas are a nightmare.
 
But hey, you say no to that face:

Breezy

 It's six weeks after Hurricane Sandy, but out in the far reaches of Queens and Staten Island the situation is nowhere near back to normal.

On Saturday I volunteered out in Breezy Point, a narrow strip of sand which is south of Brooklyn but is technically part of Queens. It's a popular spot for retirees and is the site of many small beachfront houses.

Or, at least, it was. Sandy devastated the community. Most people still have no power or heat, thousands of homes were flooded and rendered unlivable. Several hundred houses went up in flames:

Now, the residents have only two options: move out or rebuild. I spent the morning and afternoon helping a retired schoolteacher tear up her house, taking out the sheetrock, insulation, and floorboards, until only the skeleton was left.

Really, they don't have a choice. Once mold is in a house it is in there until the end of time; after weeks of flooding the place was a lost cause and needed to be completely redone. I and the other volunteers all had to wear face masks and gloves to avoid breathing in the spores. 

Hard to imagine that in 2012 in New York we'd find ourselves to vulnerable to the elements, but there you are.

The Laid o' Cockpen

Music has always been a large part of my life, but I've always been better at listening and appreciating than producing it. Without the voice for singing or the eyesight for sight-reading, I ended up in the most abstract expression of music: composition and theory. 

My current course of study involves two music-writing exercises: counterpoint and harmonization. Harmonizing a tune is rather like completing a puzzle. Each note of the melody presents a distinct set of possibilities which affect the tone and character of the song.

A song that begins with the melody on F could call for another F in the bass, making an F root chord...or you could use a D, or an A, a B (assuming a B-flat or F-sharp, to avoid the tritone), or in extreme cases a C (for a 6/4 chord). And that's only using triads.

A simple two-part harmony can sound a little bare; four voices (Soprano-Alto-Tenor-Bass) is considered the ideal.

My teacher has decided that all the songs I should harmonize are old Scottish ditties. The latest is 'The Laird o' Cockpen', written by Carolina Oliphant, (Lady Nairne), known for her beauty and Jacobism in addition to her poetry.

The Laird of Cockpen was a companion-in-arms to Charles II who fought with him at Worcester and was in exile with him in the Netherlands. He was also a musician who wrote the song Brose and Butter. After the Restoration the Laird appealed for the return of his property, but was not granted an audience.

Cockpen then reportedly gained admission to a play he knew the King would also attend. When the play was over Brose and Butter played. Charles went to Cockpen remarking that the air had almost made him dance. The Laird replied, "I could dance, too, if I had my lands again." Charles thereupon restored his lands.

This is the tune,

And this is my 4-part harmony:

The Laird o' Cockpen

The laird o' Cockpen, he's proud an' he's great,
His mind is ta'en up wi' things o' the State;
He wanted a wife, his braw house to keep,
But favour wi' wooin' was fashious to seek.

Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table head he thought she'd look well,
McClish's ae daughter o' Claversha' Lee,
A penniless lass wi' a lang pedigree.

His wig was weel pouther'd and as gude as were new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cock'd hat,
And wha could refuse the laird wi' a' that?

He took the grey mare, and rode cannily,
An' rapp'd at the yett o' Claversha' Lee;
"Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben,
She's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen".

Mistress Jean was makin' the elderflower wine;
"An' what brings the laird at sic a like time?"
She put aff her apron, and on her silk gown,
Her mutch wi' red ribbons, and gaed awa' down.

An' when she cam' ben, he bowed fu' low,
An' what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the laird when the lady said "Na",
And wi' a laigh curtsie she turned awa'.

Dumfounder'd was he, nae sigh did he gie,
He mounted his mare - he rade cannily;
An' aften he thought, as he gaed through the glen,
She were daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen.

The song often ends there, but Sir Andrew Boswell (the, ahem, natural son of James Boswell) wrote two more verses which offer an arguably happier ending to he story:

And now that the laird his exit had made,
Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said;
"Oh, for ane I'll get better, it's waur I'll get ten,
I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen".

Next time that the laird and the lady was seen,
They were gaun arm-in-arm to the kirk on the green;
Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen,
But as yet there's nae chickens appear'd at Cockpen.

 Gaelic or otherwise curious terms:

fashious=troublesome
ae=one
pouther'd=powdered
yett=gate
sic=such
mutch=close fitting cap
ben=through
laigh=low
waur=worse
tappit=tufted