Review of The First Book of Rhythms by Langston Hughes

Review of The First Book of Rhythms by Langston Hughes

by | Nov 13, 2024 | Musings, Pedagogy, Rhythmanalysis, Theory

Langston Hughes’s The First Book of Rhythms, published in 1954 with illustrations by Robin King, invites readers to contemplate rhythm as a universal force connecting all aspects of existence. Though crafted in language accessible to young readers, this book carries a profound wisdom about the nature of rhythm, one that resonates across disciplines, cultures, and natural forms. Hughes presents rhythm as much more than a musical or poetic meter; it is an elemental pattern, a structure, and a flow that animates life itself.

The book opens by inviting readers to draw a line, curve, or wave—introducing rhythm as something that can be seen, felt, and created. Rhythm begins in the movement of a hand on paper, a direct experience that anchors Hughes’s conceptual exploration in the physical body. As the pencil flows, it mirrors the body’s motion, suggesting that rhythm is embodied, inseparable from the physical and sensory experiences of human life. This approach echoes phenomenological theories of perception, like those of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, where understanding arises through engagement with the world. Hughes does not define rhythm in abstract terms; he has readers feel it, subtly linking rhythm to the sensory and intuitive knowledge that grows through experience.

In his descriptions of plants stretching toward the sun, rivers carving through rock, and tides responding to lunar cycles, Hughes reveals rhythm as a structuring principle of nature itself. The book’s sections on “The Rhythms of Nature” and “This Wonderful World” evoke a Romantic vision, akin to Emerson and Wordsworth, who found in nature a living, dynamic order. Hughes captures this order without romanticizing it; rather, he observes rhythm as an empirical reality, an interconnected set of cycles and flows that shape the Earth’s landscapes, waters, and skies. Nature’s rhythms here are not static but dynamic, intertwining with human rhythms in a seamless dance of life. The ecological awareness Hughes instills is subtle but foundational, gesturing toward the later environmental perspectives of ecocriticism, in which nature is seen as a symbiotic system of interdependent rhythms.

Hughes moves fluidly from natural rhythms to cultural expressions, suggesting that human creativity—the rhythm of music, poetry, and dance—draws from the same wellspring as the rhythms of the earth. His chapters on music and dance demonstrate how rhythm becomes a language across cultures, from the drumbeats that echo through African traditions to the steps of Viennese waltzes and square dances. In these sections, Hughes implies that rhythm is not just a cultural artifact but a universal language, a thread that connects diverse traditions. His view resonates with the anthropological concept of mimesis, the imitation of nature in human art, and anticipates structuralist ideas where universal patterns underlie cultural expressions. In Hughes’s view, rhythm bridges the natural and the human, making creativity an extension of nature’s own order.

Hughes’s treatment of rhythm in work and everyday life shows a keen awareness of rhythm’s role in social and economic structures. In “Broken Rhythms” and “Machines,” he examines how rhythm coordinates labor, from the sweeping motions of a scythe to the synchronized rhythms of assembly lines. Hughes contrasts the unique, handcrafted rhythms of traditional labor with the mechanical repetition of industrial machines, subtly critiquing the way mechanized rhythms can flatten human individuality. His language suggests an almost Marxist critique, where industrial rhythms impose an unnatural order, one that distances workers from the natural variations of human labor. This view aligns with ideas of alienation, suggesting that the rhythm of industrial labor has profound effects on the human psyche, disrupting the personal, variable rhythms that characterize handcrafted work.

In “Athletics” and “Furniture,” Hughes considers rhythm in forms that may seem mundane but reveal a broader aesthetic philosophy. He writes of pitchers’ graceful arcs, chairs shaped for comfort, and furniture designed to reflect the rhythms of the body. These examples show Hughes’s understanding of rhythm as not only functional but beautiful, aligning with a modernist aesthetic where form follows function. In every detail, Hughes sees rhythm as a harmony between form and purpose, a principle that unites aesthetic beauty with practical design. The chairs, cups, and clothes become, in Hughes’s vision, everyday manifestations of rhythm’s pervasive influence.

Robin King’s illustrations enhance this sense of rhythmic unity with simple yet evocative forms—curves, spirals, and waves that echo the natural and human-made shapes Hughes describes. The images mirror Hughes’s language, capturing the fundamental forms of rhythm in visual terms. There is an elegance in their repetition and symmetry, and like Hughes’s text, they suggest a Bauhaus-inspired understanding of design as rooted in universal forms.

In the final chapters, Hughes turns to the abstract and unseen rhythms of modern science—radio waves, electromagnetic fields, and atomic patterns. He marvels at these invisible rhythms, linking them to the visible rhythms of nature and daily life. This perspective resonates with the theories of rhythms in modern physics, where vibrations and cycles underpin the smallest particles of matter. Hughes’s fascination with the “unseen rhythms” anticipates a world in which technology reveals dimensions of rhythm that were once hidden from view. This closing contemplation, grounded in the technological marvels of the 20th century, opens the book outward, connecting the most elemental rhythms of the human body with the vast, unseen rhythms of the universe.

The First Book of Rhythms is thus more than an exploration of rhythm; it is a poetic treatise on the interconnectivity of life, nature, and culture. By blending the rhythmic patterns of nature, the arts, and everyday objects, Hughes creates a vision of the world as a unified field of rhythmic interaction, one that crosses boundaries of time, space, and culture. In doing so, Hughes crafts a timeless meditation on the patterns that bind the world together, patterns that echo across scales and disciplines, from the grand cycles of the cosmos to the delicate touch of pencil on paper.

Tobleronistan

Tobleronistan

by | Oct 18, 2024 | Cartographics, Geographers

The meme “Meanwhile in Tobleronistan” represents a modern, internet-based brand of humor that uses absurdity and cultural references to generate laughter. By combining the iconic Swiss Toblerone chocolate with the suffix “stan,” commonly used in Central Asian country names, the meme taps into a set of recognizable symbols to create something light-hearted and amusing. However, while it appears to be simple fun at first glance, the use of “stan” in this context invites a deeper, critical analysis of how humor can sometimes unintentionally reflect or reinforce problematic stereotypes. This essay examines the cultural and political undertones behind the use of “-stan” in the meme, analyzing how humor intersects with geography, Orientalism, and Western perceptions of “otherness.”

1. The Function of Satire and Humor in Place Names

The meme’s fictional country, “Tobleronistan,” follows a long tradition of using made-up or distorted place names for comedic effect. This play on words creates an association between the triangular shape of Toblerone bars and the characteristics of a nation, poking fun at how modern branding often borders on the nationalistic. Just as countries take pride in national symbols—whether they be landmarks, national food items, or export products—Toblerone, with its ties to Switzerland, symbolizes Swiss craftsmanship and identity in the consumer imagination. By turning this product into a country, the meme highlights the absurdity of attaching national significance to a simple consumer good.

However, while this satirical transformation of a brand into a fictional country may seem innocent, the choice of the suffix “stan” brings up more problematic cultural undertones. The humor relies on the audience’s understanding that “stan” is associated with real countries in Central and South Asia. The fact that these countries, which include Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Kazakhstan, are often misunderstood or stereotyped in Western media, suggests that the meme exploits this cultural association for laughs, trivializing both the complexity of these regions and the very real geopolitical realities they face.

2. The Use of “-stan” and the Reduction of Cultural Complexity

In Central Asian and Persian languages, “stan” means “land” or “place of.” Countries like Uzbekistan (land of the Uzbeks) and Kazakhstan (land of the Kazakhs) use this suffix to signify their people’s connection to the land, imbuing it with a sense of national pride and history. However, in much of the Western world, the “stan” suffix is often associated with a vague, homogenous region often depicted as distant, troubled, and exoticized. The use of “stan” in the meme strips the term of its cultural and historical significance, reducing it to an object of amusement.

By appending “stan” to “Toblerone,” the meme abstracts real places and peoples, turning the countries that use this suffix into a generic template for parody. This reflects a broader trend in Western media, where Central Asian countries are often homogenized into a singular, ill-defined “other”—a place of perceived backwardness or chaos. In this way, the meme can be seen as reinforcing stereotypes about these countries, reducing their unique histories and struggles into something trivial or insignificant.

3. Orientalism and the Exoticization of Non-Western Cultures

The casual use of “stan” for humor taps into a larger discourse of Orientalism, a concept famously explored by Edward Said. Orientalism describes how the West has historically portrayed Eastern and Middle Eastern cultures as exotic, backward, and uncivilized, in contrast to the supposedly advanced and rational West. In this framework, “stan” countries are often framed as mysterious, problematic regions whose cultures and politics are oversimplified for Western audiences. When a meme like “Tobleronistan” borrows the suffix for humor, it unconsciously draws from this tradition of depicting non-Western cultures as amusingly different or inferior.

The humor in the meme might not directly mock a specific Central Asian country, but the reference to “stan” draws on a collective understanding shaped by centuries of Orientalist thinking. The idea of a fictional place called “Tobleronistan” plays into the notion that countries with the “stan” suffix are obscure and ripe for satirization, positioning them as abstract or remote in the global imagination. As a result, it perpetuates a sense of “otherness” that diminishes the cultural complexity and sovereignty of real countries.

4. Memetic Representation and Stereotyping

Memes are powerful cultural tools that spread quickly and can convey complex ideas in simplified forms. The simplicity of the joke in “Tobleronistan” mirrors the way online cultures tend to reduce complex identities and cultures into digestible, often humorous, symbols. While the intention behind the meme may not be malicious, it reflects a broader trend of stereotyping in online spaces. Memes like this one contribute to a global narrative where certain countries and cultures are continually framed in reductive or comical terms.

Moreover, the use of humor as a vehicle for cultural commentary often relies on stereotypes for its punchline. Stereotypes about “stan” countries—ranging from perceptions of political instability to underdevelopment—are part of the cultural consciousness in the West. In this context, attaching “stan” to something absurd, like a Toblerone bar, plays into these existing preconceptions, reinforcing a narrative where these countries are not taken seriously in the global arena.

5. Conclusion: Harmless Fun or Unconscious Bias?

At first glance, the meme “Meanwhile in Tobleronistan” seems like a harmless bit of internet humor. It uses visual absurdity and wordplay to entertain, drawing on widely recognized symbols of both Swiss identity and Central Asian place names. However, a closer examination reveals that the casual use of “stan” in humor is not as innocent as it might appear. It reflects deeper trends in Western culture, where non-Western countries and their identities are often reduced to stereotypes and simplified for easy consumption.

The meme raises important questions about how humor can reinforce unconscious biases and perpetuate problematic representations of cultures that are already marginalized or misunderstood in global discourse. While the meme may be funny, it reminds us that even humor can have cultural and political implications, shaping the way we see the world and each other. Thus, it is crucial to approach such representations with a critical eye, recognizing the impact they can have on how entire regions and their peoples are perceived.

Mapping Zihuatanejo

Mapping Zihuatanejo

by | Oct 10, 2024 | Cartographics, Geographers

Kevin S. Fox’s “Zihuatanejo” connects the viewer to the pop culture reference from the film “The Shawshank Redemption.” This film, renowned for its exploration of hope, freedom, and redemption, uses Zihuatanejo—a small, idyllic fishing village on the Pacific coast of Mexico—as a symbol of ultimate freedom and peace, a place where the main character Andy Dufresne dreams of escaping to throughout the story.

In “The Shawshank Redemption,” Zihuatanejo represents more than just a geographical location; it embodies the idea of a personal paradise or a haven from the struggles and injustices of the world, especially the harsh reality of prison life that Andy endures. It’s where Andy envisions a life of freedom, far removed from the confines of Shawshank, and where he plans to start anew after his daring escape. This vision of Zihuatanejo fuels not only Andy’s hope but also inspires his friend Red, the film’s narrator, who grapples with his own concepts of hope and redemption throughout the film.

The minimalist map captures this essence by stripping away the complexities of a standard map, focusing instead on evoking the symbolism and emotional weight Zihuatanejo carries in the film. By presenting Zihuatanejo in such a manner, the map draws attention to its significance as more than a place but as a pivotal element in the narrative arc of hope and redemption. This artistic choice underscores the power of simplicity in conveying deep meanings and connections to broader themes and narratives in pop culture.

Critically, while the minimalist design effectively highlights Zihuatanejo’s symbolic importance, it might also obscure the rich cultural and geographical context of the actual location. For viewers unfamiliar with “The Shawshank Redemption” or the real Zihuatanejo, the map’s abstract nature may not provide enough information to fully appreciate the depth of its reference. Nevertheless, for fans of the film, the minimalist approach serves as a powerful reminder of the story’s emotional core, encapsulated in the dream of a peaceful life beyond the prison walls.

In conclusion, this is meant to be a thought-provoking piece that adeptly ties to “The Shawshank Redemption’s” themes of hope and freedom. It serves both as a homage to the film and as a creative exploration of how minimalism can capture and convey the essence of a place imbued with deep narrative significance.

Ugly Geographies

Ugly Geographies

by | Oct 10, 2024 | Geographers, Pedagogy

The practice of using TikTok and Google Earth for virtual exploration, as seen in Natasha Gupta’s content, offers a novel approach to geographic engagement, particularly for younger audiences. The format taps into the aesthetics of social media, making geography visually appealing and relatable. However, it risks reducing the complexity of geography to superficial observations. In the process, geographic landscapes are reduced to binary judgments—”ugly” or “not ugly”—which may perpetuate a shallow understanding of place. This simplified perspective overlooks the deeper, often invisible, forces that shape our physical and human environments, including history, culture, politics, and economics.

For The GIEI, Gupta’s method poses both an opportunity and a challenge. On the positive side, her videos have sparked interest in geography by making it accessible and fun, opening up conversations about regions that may not receive much attention otherwise. By bringing millions of viewers into contact with places as varied as France, the Philippines, and Ohio, these explorations counteract cultural biases that often paint certain locations as undesirable or unworthy of study.

Yet, from a critical geographical perspective, the main drawback is the oversimplification of places into a visual binary, void of context. While aesthetic judgments are natural human reactions, reducing geography to what’s pleasing to the eye overlooks the multi-dimensional character of place. Geographers understand that landscapes are not just shaped by natural beauty but also by human intervention, history, economic forces, and the lived experiences of people. A “bland” roadside hotel, for instance, might tell a fascinating story about globalization, tourism, or urban sprawl that a quick, dismissive glance cannot capture.

Moreover, this TikTok practice relies on first impressions and instinctual reactions, which could reinforce stereotypes or misconceptions. For example, classifying an area based on weather conditions or architectural style risks perpetuating narrow views of regions, potentially overlooking the broader geographic significance of those areas. For geography educators, this raises important questions about the responsibility of digital content creators in shaping public perceptions of the world.

A more enriched version of this method, aligned with the goals of critical geography, would encourage viewers to dig deeper. Instead of focusing solely on visual aesthetics, users could explore questions like: What economic activities shape this landscape? What is the cultural or political significance of the place? How do migration patterns or historical events impact this environment? By incorporating these dimensions, the practice could become a powerful educational tool that fosters a more nuanced understanding of the world, even at its “ugliest.”

While Gupta’s TikTok practice of exploring the world via Google Earth provides an engaging starting point for geographic inquiry, it has limitations in fostering critical geographic thinking. The challenge lies in harnessing the popularity of such trends to encourage deeper engagement with geography—moving beyond surface-level judgments and towards a more comprehensive understanding of the spatial processes that shape our world.

For a lesson that engages with more critical ways of using Google Earth and TikTok, check out this idea on Asking the World.

GIEI Film Review: As Bestas (2022)

by | Oct 3, 2024 | Film Reviews

Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s As Bestas (2022) is an atmospheric and tense exploration of isolation, belonging, and conflict, set against the rugged backdrop of rural Galicia, Spain. The film follows Antoine and Olga, a French couple who move to a depopulated village to pursue their dream of organic farming. However, their presence soon ignites deep-seated tensions with the local farmers, Xan and Lorenzo, leading to a dangerous confrontation. Through its masterful use of geography, language, and the theme of depopulation, As Bestas paints a complex portrait of a community grappling with its shrinking future and the arrival of outsiders.

 

Geographical Context: Rural Galicia as a Character

The rugged, remote landscapes of Galicia are not just a backdrop in As Bestas—they actively shape the film’s narrative. The film is set in a village that feels isolated, abandoned, and deeply connected to its physical environment. The mountains, dense forests, and winding roads create a sense of enclosure, intensifying the psychological tension between the characters.

The geography of the region mirrors the emotional and cultural isolation felt by the characters, particularly the locals who see their world shrinking due to depopulation. The land in Galicia has historically been tied to identity and survival, and in As Bestas, it becomes a battleground for control, belonging, and the future.

Depopulation: A Dying Way of Life

Depopulation is a central theme that defines the village’s sense of fragility and desperation. Like many rural regions in Spain, Galicia has experienced a significant loss of population, with younger generations leaving for cities and more prosperous regions. This exodus leaves behind older residents struggling to maintain their way of life. In As Bestas, this reality permeates the interactions between the characters, particularly the tension between the local farmers and the French couple.

The villagers’ attachment to the land is not merely economic; it is deeply emotional and cultural. For Xan and Lorenzo, the shrinking population represents the gradual erosion of their identity and their community’s way of life. The potential wind turbine project—one of the few economic opportunities available—becomes a symbol of this desperation. The local farmers view it as a lifeline, while Antoine, with his idealistic vision of sustainable farming, opposes it, seeing it as exploitation. This clash is more than a disagreement over land use; it is a reflection of the larger struggle to hold on to a disappearing world in the face of modern pressures.

The village’s dwindling population also amplifies the tension between locals and outsiders. In a community where each resident plays a vital role, the arrival of newcomers like Antoine and Olga is seen as a potential threat to the already fragile balance. The economic pressures brought on by depopulation create an atmosphere of territoriality and suspicion, as the remaining villagers become fiercely protective of their land and way of life.

Language: A Barrier and a Tool of Conflict

In As Bestas, the multilingualism of the characters—Spanish, Galician, and French—plays a significant role in shaping the film’s narrative and tension. Language acts as both a bridge and a barrier between the French couple and the local villagers. Antoine and Olga’s reliance on Spanish to communicate, while functional, marks them as outsiders in a community where Galician is the dominant language. Galician, more than just a language, is a marker of local identity and cultural continuity, and its use among the locals reinforces the couple’s sense of otherness.

The linguistic divide becomes even more pronounced in moments of conflict. Xan and Lorenzo often speak in Galician, particularly when tensions rise, as a way to assert their dominance and control over the conversation. For Antoine and Olga, this creates a sense of vulnerability, as they are unable to fully grasp the nuances and subtexts of the local language. Even though Antoine speaks Spanish, his accent and occasional struggles with fluency reinforce the divide between him and the locals, adding another layer of isolation.

This linguistic tension reflects the larger theme of miscommunication in the film. Language is not just a practical tool for dialogue but a symbol of deeper cultural and emotional divides. Antoine and Olga, despite their efforts to integrate into the community, are unable to fully understand or be understood by the villagers, and this lack of connection ultimately drives the story towards its tragic conclusion.

Isolation: Physical, Emotional, and Cultural

The isolation in As Bestas is both geographical and psychological. The village’s remote location, surrounded by mountains and forests, creates a physical barrier between the characters and the outside world. This physical isolation is mirrored in the emotional distance between the locals and the outsiders. For Antoine and Olga, the isolation is not just about geography; it is about their inability to break into the social and cultural world of the village. Despite their best intentions, they remain outsiders in a place where everyone else is deeply connected to the land and each other.

For the locals, this isolation is a source of both pride and pain. Xan and Lorenzo are fiercely protective of their territory, but they are also painfully aware of the village’s shrinking future. The isolation breeds a sense of defensiveness, as the villagers become increasingly wary of anything that threatens their control over their land and their way of life.

Conflict: Modernity vs. Tradition

At the heart of As Bestas is the conflict between modernity and tradition. Antoine and Olga represent a forward-looking vision of rural life, with their emphasis on sustainable farming and eco-tourism. However, this vision clashes with the villagers’ need for economic survival. The wind turbine project, seen by the locals as a necessary step towards securing their future, becomes the catalyst for the conflict.

This tension between modernity and tradition is not only economic but also cultural. Antoine and Olga’s idealism feels out of place in a community that is struggling with the realities of rural decline. The film suggests that even well-meaning efforts to “improve” a place can be seen as invasive when they come from outsiders who do not fully understand the local dynamics.

Conclusion: Geography, Language, and Depopulation as Catalysts for Tension

As Bestas is a powerful exploration of how geography, language, and depopulation shape human conflict and relationships. The remote landscapes of Galicia are not just a setting but a force that drives the characters’ actions and emotions. Depopulation, with its accompanying economic and social decline, creates a heightened sense of territoriality and fear, while the language barrier deepens the divide between the locals and the outsiders.

Through its rich portrayal of these themes, As Bestas offers a haunting look at the fragility of rural life in the face of modern pressures. The film’s tense, slow-burning narrative reveals the complexities of community, belonging, and the struggle to hold on to a way of life that is rapidly disappearing. In the end, As Bestas is not just a story of interpersonal conflict, but a meditation on the larger forces—geography, language, and depopulation—that shape the human experience in isolated, shrinking communities.