Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Partisanship 2010 Style

In The Daily Beast today (February 23, 2010)Tunku Varadarajan wrote an interesting piece called "Why Partisan Bickering Works." I immediately clicked on the post because I agree with the sentiment. The tone of partisanship circa 2010 isn't all that different from any other era; it is just the pervasiveness that wears one down. But I think Varadarajan goes too far in his tribute to partisan politics.

Our system is designed in such a way that healthy partisanship guards against tyranny by the majority. Getting something passed in the U.S. Congress is supposed to be difficult and contentious. The contentiousness ideally is what keeps us from knee jerk reactions and ill-advised initiatives. Would that we had had a little more partisan contentiousness when we set off to war against Iraq. But I don't think the founding fathers anticipated the ability of talk radio and cable news to amplify the partisanship simply to build audience share. Andrew Jackson in Henry Clay had an infinitely more formidable partisan foe than anyone Obama faces today. John McCain? John Boehner of the perpetual tan? Come on! I doubt, however, that the average 19th century American citizen was bombarded with speaking points to the same extent we are. Therefore, the anger was probably not as intense, or certainly not as public. That doesn't excuse Obama's up and down year, but it does explain it to a certain extent.

Varadarajan asks "what is wrong with partisanship in a democracy where information is freely available?" Good question, but I'll pose another. What is wrong with partisanship in a democracy where information and misinformation are both freely available and virtually indistinguishable? Plenty. I read in Politico the other day that 47% of the voters in this country believe their income taxes have been raised to unsustainable heights by the Obama administration. Maybe they haven't gotten the memo that 95% of us received tax breaks since Obama took office. What good is information that is calculated to be misleading? How does that help a democracy function?

Later on he says "Partisanship is all about finding policy flaws in politicians, rather like finding character flaws." The problem is that since the partisan brinksmanship has little factual basis, all the arguments become ad hominem. We are not really able to engage in a discussion about anything substantive because everybody is so worried about death panels and tax increases that haven't happened. Please, all you partisans out there, start pointing out policy flaws instead of indulging in unsubstantiated character assassination.

The other day on Meet the Press David Gregory asked the panel if there was any way to break up the partisan log jam in Congress. A republican congressman whose name I forget answered his question definitively when he said that the log jam was the clear result of a democratic leadership that was out of touch with the American people. His democratic counterpart on the show interrupted to point out the obstinate refusal of republicans to cooperate. So much for bi-partisanship.

Finally, and here's the point I really take exception to, Varadarajan (I think I've typed that name enough now to have the spelling committed to memory) says that "democrats and progressives hate partisanship for the same reason they hate the market. Both are built on the idea of a permanent state of competition that produces the public good only indirectly, and through what's called the 'invisible hand'."

All I can say is that the market's behavior the last few years and the behavior of those who drive the market have certainly resulted in the public good indirectly. So indirectly, in fact, that I am having a hard time seeing how I have benefitted. I guess I can take umbrage in the fact that all of those credit derivative swappers were actively promoting the public good instead of greedily stuffing their own pockets. And this "invisible hand" that stock market "experts" keep talking about is a crock. I don't even want to think about where the "invisible hand" has inserted itself, but I do know that Adam Smith, the coiner of the term in The Wealth of Nations only used the phrase ONCE in the entire book and that was in reference to the advisability of Scotsmen to invest in Scotland rather than looking elsewhere. The "invisible hand" would see to it that Scotland's economy would keep plugging away. Of course, I'm paraphrasing here.

John Keynes had an apt quote.
Capitalism is the astounding belief that the most wickedest of men will do the most wickedest of things for the greatest good of everyone.


Of course Varadarajan would point out that I am one of those market hating liberal progressives. I would respond by telling him where to put his "invisible hand."

Monday, February 22, 2010

Mean Blogs and Spam

It's pundits who've given me reason to bitch.
There's Olberman, Hannity, Limbaugh and Rich,
O'Reilly, Paul Krugman, Chris Matthews and Dowd.
They all know the Truth and they'll shout it out loud.

And on those occasions when Truth's not quite true,
The facts they'll start spinning and logic they'll skew.
But that doesn't stop them from thinking they're right.
Some points you're not seeing? You're in for a fight.

The anger they cause, why it's not their concern.
Of life in the flesh they can hardly discern,
So like a contagion they fill up the air
Till we just get tired and then no longer care.

Now bloggers have added their voice to the din.
And Facebook and Twitter have tweeted right in.
The air's filled with pundits just blogging away,
Convinced their opinions are the ones to hold sway.

Now I can be Maddow, Ann Coulter, or Klein,
Observing away with opinions all mine.
I'll even use facts in the things that I post.
One for good measure; two at the most.

--James D. Starkey

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Anger

I was looking through the February 15 & 22, 2010 issue of The New Yorker when I found a letter by David Marshak of Bellingham, Washington written in response to an article about Secretary of Education Arne Duncan ("Class Warrior," by Carlo Rotella, February 1st). Mr. Marshak had the same reaction to the article as I did. Duncan's and Obama's talk about reforming education doesn't ring true to me. It sounds like the movement to national standards could easily lead to a movement enforcing national best practices and this could lead to a national curriculum, which would invariably result in all students nation wide being on the same page on any given day. Statements like "all fourth grade english classes will discuss comma splices during the second week of February" started ringing in my head. As I read the article I remember shaking my head and thanking the gods that I had retired just in time.

The difference between Marshak's reaction and mine is that Marshak got angry and his anger manifested itself in some loaded language. Obama and Duncan "are repeating the educational-policy con game that George W. Bush enacted." The "Texas school miracle" "hyped" by Karl Rove "turned out to be a fraud. . ." Marshak rightly points out that Duncan's efforts in Chicago have had little effect so far, but he goes on to say that "Duncan's failed policy in Chicago are exactly what he and Obama are selling to the nation in the Race to the Top."

I understand Marshak's points and agree with them for the most part, but I don't see why he had to sound so inflexible. Can't we all get along? I like Obama and I sympathize with the task he has in front of him. I also agree with his positions on most everything, but when it comes to education policy his prescriptions seem as hollow to me as everyone else's. But this difference of opinion does not infuriate me. I don't think Obama and Duncan are trying to sell me a bill of goods. I don't think they are being fascist, or socialist, or communist, or elitist. I just think they are well-intentioned and mis-informed. Furthermore, I don't believe that if their ideas become reality the fate of public education will suffer. Besides, it is just possible that they are right and Mr. Marshak and I are wrong. The problem is that Mr. Marshak's language doesn't admit of the possibility of him being wrong.

I just wish that our public discourse weren't so strident.

I don't know why this surprises me. After all, I spent thirty-five years of my life in a public school classroom and nearly every time a parent called the principal for a parent-teacher conference I knew what the real agenda was. The parent in question usually called because of some "outrageous" thing I had said or done in my classroom and simply wanted to have a conference to straighten out any misunderstandings we might have. But what the parent really wanted was a quick admission of guilt, heartfelt apology, and assurance that no such misunderstanding would happen again. There was never a possibility of compromise. The teacher is always wrong, just like the parent is always right. They do, after all, pay our salaries.

The idea that in some differences of opinion both sides might be right rarely occurs to anyone. I was sitting at my desk one day after school when a mother and father of one of my juniors showed up at my door. They both walked in rather tentatively, but after I asked how I could help, the father puffed up and told me that they had been asking around the neighborhood and the scuttlebut was that I was a "different kind of teacher."

"I certainly hope so," was my admittedly smart-ass rejoinder. But they went on to say that I expressed strong political opinions and they had heard that I would give bad grades to anyone who disagreed with my positions.

"If you were in my place would you let a student's politics affect his grade," I asked?

"Of course not," he said.

"So what you are actually saying is that I am not as good and open-minded a person as you are," I shot back. (I had had this conversation before.)

The couple was momentarily taken aback.

"Look," I said. "A lot of the things we talk about in this class are issues that have no right or wrong position. For instance, looking at you two I'll bet that on the abortion issue you are both pro-life. I, as you have probably guessed, am pro choice. But I undertand your position completely and I sympathize with it. Just like I'm sure you understand mine (insert smiley face)."

The discussion went on like that for a while until the couple finally left. They never called the principal to freak out about this pro choice liberal who was ruining their son and for that I am eternally grateful, but I don't think they ever accepted my middle ground position.

I'm sorry to sound like an ex-journalism teacher, but here is another example, from The Denvber Post this time. In today's editorial ("Bennet doesn't get the message" Thursday, February 18, 2010) it sounds like the editorial board asked Rush Limbaugh to write the piece. The Post doesn't like what has become of the health care reform bill currently languishing somewhere between the House and the Senate and has been calling for weeks for Congress to junk the current bill and start over. This is not an extreme position, but then neither is it extreme to want to build on the current bill to get something passed. However, the Post's editorial makes Michael Bennet out to be a traitor to the people of Colorado and someone who has forsaken sound centrist policies for wild-eyed liberalism.

Bennet's trangression was to write a letter to Harry Reid signed by something like seven other senators to stick to his guns, reinstate the public option, and push the whole thing through with reconciliation in order to get around the certainty of republican filibusters. Given the recalcitrance of congressional republicans this seems a regrettable, but reasonable solution.

But the Post's choice of language casts it as something else entirely. Bennet is ignoring the voters' will in order to "cram health care reform down our throats." The editorialist conveniently ignores the fact that 70% of people polled consistently favor health care reform.

The Post goes on to say that Bennet ignored the message voters sent in Massachusetts and is instead "leading a pack of liberal senators" to push through health care. I guess that seven senators constitues a "pack." I think that twelve senators equals a "gaggle" or something like that. It's all written down in senate by-laws right next to where it talks about how one senator can hold up all presidential nominations just because he's in a snit. Furthermore, no one, except maybe at the Post editorial or at Rush Limbaugh's microphone, seriously believes that the Massachusetts upset was about health care only.

The Post goes on to say that the Senate "failed miserably" and "poisoned" the bill. It then goes on to question what used to be Bennet's strong moderate position because of his vote for the senate bill.

The Post's editorial is like so much media talk now. It isn't a reasoned argument; instead, it is a shouted accusation based on nothing more than opinion and conjecture. The Post's problem with Bennet is that he is a moderate and a centrist; he is not an idealogue. He doesn't follow the party line. It is possible to lament the broken procedures of the Senate and still vote for health care. It is possible to realize that reconciliation might be the only way to get anything done. Is that being liberal? Conservative? Green? Red? Pro business? Pro labor? Or is it just voting on each issue as it arises? Isn't that how it is supposed to work?

The point is that the strident tone makes such principled behavior seem opportunistic to some and weak-kneed to others. You can't win in a toxic atmosphere like that as Evan Bayh reluctantly concluded. I just hope Michael Bennet and others like him will keep fighting the good fight. Someone has to do it.

Friday, February 12, 2010

THE VALUE OF NOTHING by Raj Patel

There are two novels that can transform a bookish fourteen-year-old's life: THE LORD OF THE RINGS and ATLAS SHRUGGED. One is a childish daydream that can lead to an emotionally stunted, socially crippled adulthood in which large chunks of the day are spent inventing ways to make real life more like a fantasy novel. The other is a book about orcs.


The opening paragraph of Patel's 10th chapter pretty much sums up both the author's tone and attitude toward his subject. His subject? The cover states it clearly: "How to reshape market society and redefine democracy." An ambitious assignment, but Patel certainly creates the need.

Patel's argument comes at us in two parts. First he shows us how the market society evolved and how that evolution has been to society's detriment. In the second part he makes a mild case for civil disobedience as one way to bring about the change we need to redefine democracy and offers a number of real life examples of how this "revolution" is currently working.

As I was reading this book I couldn't help but think what would happen to me if I lived during the McCarthy era. Just an admission that I had read this essay would be proof of commie status. Patel isn't completely dismissing the notion of free markets, he is just showing that the free market as it currently exists, to borrow a phrase from Oscar Wilde, knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

The problem is that we have lived with this fact for so long that it is impossible to conceive of any other form a market could take, like for instance a Commons in the old european and early colonial sense. Nothing gives witness to this more than our reaction to the recent financial crisis. Obama and his financial experts have, according to Patel, applied the right kind of Keynesian band aids to halt the bleeding, but they haven't addressed the larger problem that markets just don't work the way the text books say they do.

One side, the neo-cons, of economic theorizing comes from Gary Becker, a protege of Milton Friedman and the whole Chicago school thing. His method involves three assumptions. One, everyone is a maximizing creature trying to amass as much stuff with as little effort as possible. Second, this maximizing Everyman does his maximizing in a market place along with all the other maximizing Everymen. Third, all these maximizing Everymen have the same preferences regardless of background.

The thing is, as I understand it, if all of us in the marketplace were indeed the rapacious maximizers that Becker theorizes the market place would work just fine. The problem is we aren't like that, but there is one "creature" in our society who is: the corporation.

Becker's views (Milton Friedman's views) have been in vogue for decades, at least since Ronald Reagan and supply side economics discredited Keynes, so is it any wonder that things seem to be stacked to favor the interests of corporations over the interests of democracy (the people) in today's market society?

Corporations, at least the way they seem to be structured, favor short-term profits over long term ethical considerations. What a shocker. For instance, Larry Summer (or is it Summers?), Obama's main economic advisor and former head of the World Bank, once wrote an inter-office memo at the World Bank wondering if it wouldn't be more efficient to take toxic waste from nuclear storage facilities and dump it off the coast of Somalia rather than wrangle over dumping it in our country. As a banker he was simply trying to be efficient (it was cheaper to dump in Somalia by a factor of 100). He didn't consider ethics or the fact that the toxic waste has in fact washed ashore in Somalia, costing much more money in clean-up and providing Somalian Pirates with a rationale for their war on international shipping.

As a further example, if the industrialized world calculated the real cost of the pollutants they spew into the atmosphere and all the ecological damage their raging consumerism causes, they would discover that their debt to the Third World dwarfs the debt owed by poor countries to rich ones. One study put the actual value at $47 trillion.

This skewed approach to value and cost began with the enclosing of the Commons. In other words, the owning of property is not an inherent condition of society. Communities used to revolve around a Commons. The Commons provided food, game, water, community, a place to be, the list goes on and on. It is when the Commons became a commodity, became owned rather than shared, that other things became commodities as well. Poor people who couldn't own their share of the commons had no choice but to sell their labor and pay rent, thus two new commodities joined the market place, and on and on.

Patel suggests that modern day capitalism has been built on the back and the lives of women because women were the last individuals to hold on to the Commons. They were the ones tending the gardens and forging a community. As the Commons started turning into private property, the persecution of witches grew. It was no coincidence that witches tended to be discovered on land where the transition from a Commons to a commodity was taking place. Since 1990, 22,000 women have been executed as witches. Almost all of those executions have happened in lands, like Zambia, where the Commons was and is in the process of being turned over for tourism.

Finally, Patel is saying that even though property and food and labor and everything else is for sale, has become a commodity, we all should have the right to have rights. Seems like a ridiculously simple statement, but it's not. At the very least, we should have the right to stay put. Even those homeless people who get displaced from every inner city whenever a big event like an Olympics or a Democratic Convention comes into town have a right to stay put, even if it does look bad on CNN and might dismay the local Chamber of Commerce. Isn't amazing that one of the agencies fighting home foreclosures and evictions, ACORN, has been under withering attack from the right-wing corporate apologists because a spy found one representative who gave potential homeowners tips on how to play the system to get approval! How awful, God knows corporations would never do something like play the system.

Like I said, Patel certainly makes a case for change. In the second part he lets us know that redefining democracy for the twenty-first century will require us all to become Athenians in a sense. Athens didn't have elections. Citizens took turns governing and administering. This required that everyone be responsible to everyone else by keeping informed, volunteering, giving, debating, caring.

I guess I'm just getting beaten down by all the noise generated by the media, but I don't see a lot of responsible leadership, let alone responsible citizenship, on the horizon. On the other hand, Patel does offer a number of exciting examples of people creating their own politics and taking back power. The movement is slow and piecemeal because it seems so astronomically hard, but it bodes well for the DISTANT future.

Patel, when discussing the difficulty ahead, tells a joke about a "wandering traveler who asks the fool how best to get to the city. The fool replies: 'I wouldn't start from here if I were you.'"

Patel's book is thoughtful, readable, and teaches a lot about economics. It is a nice essay to have under your belt.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Shanahan's - a restaurant

Shanahan's is impossible to miss as it looms over the intersection of I-25 and Belleview. At first glance it reminded me of the old Cooper Theatre on Colorado Boulevard with it's round, rough-hewn exterior and a neon "Shanahan's" emblazoned on its facade. You can say whatever you want about this architectural monstrosity, but you have to admit that Mike has great penmanship.

That penmanship is also on display inside this cavernous place. There is even a "Shanahan's" etched into the handle of every steak knife (a set of four can be had for a mere $55). But back to the word cavernous. This place is huge and, more impressively, it was filled to the rafters last Saturday night. We walked up to the maitre 'd station, actually to the four computerized stations the place needs to keep track of what must be seating for well in excess of 500 patrons, mentioned our 7:45 reservation and were directed to the bar by one of the blond bombshells passing out menus. Since it would have taken at least fifteen minutes to work our way through the 30ish throng and their charged conviviality, we decided to wait by the door. Luckily, Shanahan has an impressive collection of Mike's memorabilia on display in glass cases lining the walls. There were his three super bowl trophies(we suspect the real ones are still safe within the confines of Dove Valley and wherever the 49ers' office is). There were pictures of Mike hobnobbing with Presidents Clinton and Bush. I suspect the Clinton photos were put up precisely so flaming liberals like me will not be so turned off by W. that we storm out and go someplace more democratic.

After a fifteen minute wait one of the lovely young ladies - they all looked like they had just missed a shot at Bronco cheerleader - led us through a maze of tables and rooms to our spot in the back corner of what would normally be a room for private parties. Menus were delivered promptly and a waitress stopped by and tried to explain how everything worked while competing with the accompanying din in that overfull room. We somehow communicated our drink order and by the time it arrived we were ready to order dinner. An interesting side note here is that at Shanahan's drink orders arrive with alarming speed. The same can not be said for non-drink related wait staff.

I started with east coast oysters on the half shell which were beautifully presented - everything is beautifully presented here - and not too bad. Katherine had an excellent onion soup whose only fault was that it was too big. That's another thing about Shanahan's, everything is too big presumably to match the gargantuan appetites of the area's jocks who, if the size of the shoulders on some of the diners is any indication, are already flocking to this manly eatery.

We both had too big and overly dressed salads and then came the main event. I ordered a porterhouse because that's always what I order in a steakhouse, and Katherine had a rib eye. Both of these steaks were perfectly cooked and uniformly excellent. My only complaint is that the menu proudly boasts that all of Shanahan's beef is corn fed! Maybe Mike hasn't read OMNIVORE'S DILEMMA, or maybe he is making a right-wing conservative statement about all those tree huggers out there who do the politically correct thing and search the internet daily looking for sources of grass-fed beef, but it seemed strange.

The thing is that most of us love corn fed beef. That is what we have grown up with for the most part and that is what makes us happy. On the other hand, I'll take a grass fed cowboy steak from Marzyks on 17th and Clarkson any time.

We were too full to partake of an impressive dessert menu, so we asked for the check. Shanahan's is Mizuna expensive, but not Mizuna perfect. The bill WITHOUT a bottle of wine (I like drinking Stella at steak houses) was right an $180. I'm just glad we had a $150 dollar gift certificate.

Shanahan's is a beautiful place and an interesting experience. If you are in the mood for a steak, corn fed or otherwise, you could do worse. As for me, I won't be back unless someone would like to treat.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Snark - David Denby

I love reading David Denby. In fact, one of my most inspired lesson plans came about as a direct result of his work. The New Yorker published what was to become the first chapter of Denby's Great Books about ten or twelve years ago. It so happened that I was teaching my first year of Comp for the College Bound and decided to start the year with Brave New World. It occurred to me that Denby's exploration of the ravages of pop culture would provide a really nice framework for a reading of Huxley. So I created this great plan involving classroom discussions of the novel; a viewing of Sleeper which has some overly obvious references to the novel, but just at the right level for high school seniors; a reading of Denby's essay; and finally a terrific (if I say so myself) writing assignment. I asked them to write a letter to the editor of the magazine strongly agreeing or disagreeing with Denby's main thesis and to illustrate their position with passages from the novel. The assignment sheet gave the kids three quotes (most coming from the wonderful discussion between Mustapha Mond and the Savage) to use, but they were free to substitute others that would best serve their purpose. It sounds pretty sophisticated for a bunch of teenagers, but the responses were maybe the best I have ever received. I think they were so good because the novel is so wonderfully teachable and Denby is so consistently provocative.

Snark is a polemic blasting the coarsened tone of discourse we are all forced to listen to by explaining the difference between Snark (basically mean spirited ad hominem attacks that appear to be satirical or ironical but are really just vicious insults) and the legitimate literary forms of satire and irony.

There is a difference, for example, between the fact-based and well researched invective on The Daily Show or the delicious irony of The Colbert Report and the vicious name calling practiced by Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, sophomoric blogs like Hot or Not (ugh), and Sarah Palin.

The use of snark appeals to our basest instincts. It delights in attacking sexual orientation, old age, and slips of the tongue. It is constantly on the look out for little missteps that can be turned into political capital. It feels no need to tell the truth, or even find out what the truth is. Instead, it deals in caricatures, innuendo, and outright lies. And since it is usually anonymous and tends to reside in cyberspace, it isn't subject to libel laws. It allows its purveyors to act like kids on a playground, calling names and running to hide behind the nearest bush, or swingset, or teacher.

Denby, a passionate advocate of first ammendment rights, isn't suggesting that we censor the wealth of snark out there, but just that we recognize it when we see it. Because, just like in "The Hunting of the Snark," not all snarks are harmless. "For the Snark was a Boojum, you see." Forgive my incredibly profound reference to Lewis Carroll. I just ripped off the connection from Denby's wonderful book.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

K. Starkey's List #4: Epiphanies After a Nasty Sprained Ankle

Katherine here.

Last Friday (about 5:30 AM) I went upstairs and grabbed something for the gym and headed back downstairs to head to the Y. I missed a step and fell down the stairs, landed on my left ankle and rolled it. I screamed and cried and it hurt a lot. Since then I've realized a lot of stuff. Here goes:

1. When you are hobbling around with a cane or a big black boot, people don't ask how you are. Mostly people ask if you swore or used swear words when you fell. I didn't.
2. I've learned I use swear words for dramatic effect. "Fuck" and its various other derivations would be my favorite. I don't use swear words often, but I do use them. I think it odd that all folks would approve of their use when injured, but not otherwise.
3. I don't think I've ever heard Chris swear. I have heard Nate and Franny swear. Is Chris more careful or does he actually not use them? He's a dad with small kids now too and that does rein the swear words in. I didn't swear when the kids were little--I said things like, "I've just fallen down the stairs and hurt my ankle and it is very, very, very painful."
4. I've said "Poor Uncle Wiggly to myself a lot." See Nine Stories.
5. Mobility is everything. I hated resting on the sofa for several days. I have decided I hate ads with talking babies and there are just too many references to cancer (constant reminders that I've been sick and could be again).
6. Avoid high schools during passing periods when you're mobility is limited.
7. It's both good and bad to have a visible sign of your wound. If you do, people stare, but understand that you are hurt. If you don't (the black boot was under my jeans), people stare and probably believe your weird gait is something you must live with. Either way, people will stare at you.
8. It's hard to look good with a sprained ankle. The only shoes I have that I can get on over the boot are crocs. I've been done with crocs for some time now. I don't know when I'll be able to get my cowboy boots on again and I love my cowboy boots (unless it's snowing).

That's it. Enjoy your mobility.
K.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

a mercy - Toni Morrison

I remember a scene in The Big Chill. William Hurt's character, permanently coked up, is watching some movie on late night television when Tom Beringer's character sits down and asks him what the movie is about. "I don't know," Hurt responds. "You're so analytical. Sometimes you have to let art flow over you."

That is almost always my reaction when reading Toni Morrison's works. Her speakers simply allow you as a reader to enter their lives at some point and to eaves drop on the goings on. They don't give you much help. There is no road map. No exposition to bring you up to speed. Morrison forces you to dive right in and figure out things for yourself. I have read every fiction she has written and the best ones (Beloved, Song of Solomon, The Bluest Eye) all share that very Faulknerian characteristic. You read along, piecing things together, moving from bewilderment to the slow shock of recognition to enlightenment. I mean I still have to fight tears when I think of Paul D. rocking Sethe, saying "You your best thing, Sethe. You."

a mercy belongs with Morrison's best. Our main speaker here is Florens, a slave girl who is sold to a decent man as payment for a debt in lieu of cash. The slave owner originally tries to sell Florens' mother, but the mother rightly wangles them into taking her daughter instead. Just like Sethe's solution to the Fugitive Slave Act, this moment of "abandonment" by her mother serves as the seminal moment in the novel.

Like all of Morrison's work, we are afforded a grim, first person account from multiple speakers of the horrors of the beginnings of the slave trade, but it ends up being more of an investigation into the love between women who have their very existences defined by men or the absence of men.

There is the mistress, Rebekkah, herself not much more than white chattel; Lina, the slave who provides the rock that precariously holds all of these women together; Sorrow, whose lustful presence seems to supply some hope for an independent life; and Florens, whose love for a freeman blacksmith provides a focus for the narrative. But their dependence on men is the unforgettable emphasis of this beautiful little novel.

Rebekka arrives to America in the cargo hold of a ship, sharing the tiny space with a handful of other down and out ladies. She is the only one who actually has a future in the form of a prearranged marriage to Jacob Vaark. In the hold, as she listens to and receives comfort from the stories of her fellow passenger/victims she righly sees the parallel to Job's comforters who really don't talk about Job's problem at all. They simply talk about themselves. All comforters follow that trope. She reaches one of those thrilling insights that make Morrison's work so satisfying. Job didn't want answers from God; he only wanted to be noticed.
But then Job was a man. Invisibility was intolerable to men. What complaint would a female Job dare to put forth? And if, having done so, and He deigned to remind her of how weak and ignorant she was, where was the news in that? What shocked Job into humility and renewed fidelity was the message a female Job would have known and heard every minute of her life.

It is a thrilling moment. In fact it almost makes me want to teach AP again so I could do this novel along with "Job" and J. B.. Almost, but not quite.

If you are a Morrison fan and how could you not be, this is must reading.