I love the theatre. Live plays give me joy. This is true even when the play is not something I would otherwise want to watch. Take "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." It's a silly play with an inane plot and underdeveloped characters. Yet I saw it at Sundance Summer Theatre outdoors this past Monday evening and loved it. Why?
1. The setting. Well, it's hard to beat Sundance outdoors on a summer evening. The large trees surrounding the stage absolutely gave the illusion of the Oregon wilderness. Still, I would have enjoyed it indoors too. So:
2. The intimacy with the actors. I didn't sit particularly close, but would have enjoyed it even more if I had. My favorite theatre is the Hale Center Theatre in Orem, which has all of about 6 rows. Being able to observe even the smallest motions brings stories alive.
3. Knowing the actors are struggling students or amateurs, still learning and perfecting. I'm always a sucker for the underdog. This must be why I love junior high and high school plays. 7 Brides involved BYU and UVU students.
4. The quality of the play. Yes, the plot is silly, but it still manages to offer some great insights into human nature. The lyrics and actions frequently get across complex ideas in relatively simple ways, a real achievement. We cringe at the awkwardness of the boys, in part because we see ourselves in their antics and we're relieved we didn't do quite as badly.
I went to London in Summer 2009 expecting to see spectacular theatre that everyone raves about. I did see some awfully good stuff, but also saw a couple of the most dreadful plays I've ever seen. The most disappointing by far was "A Winter's Tale" put on in Shakespeare's hometown of Avon. Never have I looked forward so much with such great disappointment. The play doesn't seem to be that great, the actors often couldn't be heard, and the director seemed to have a scattershot approach in terms of setting the tone. Simply awful. I'll take my local theatre any time. I suppose one has to take risks in England to stand out, and so the crash and burn is all the more spectacular.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Of Bighorn Sheep, etc.
I learned this week that:1. Bighorn sheep live in the mountains just east of Provo and come down into Rock Canyon, not far up the canyon.
2. The boys in my Varsity Group are pretty good hikers; we did Squaw Peak in very fine time, 3 hours up and back, not counting the rest time on top.
3. Certain kinds of bacteria that wind up in your stomach, such as that found in yogurt, might actually make you calmer, less anxious, happier. At least there are studies of mice and now one of humans that have shown interesting effects. Listen to the podcast "Guts" from Radiolab to learn more.
4. I sort of wish I experimented on mice. They're a lot easier to experiment on than humans. These neuroscientists who feed mice different substances and then test how that affects them: that sounds pretty straightforward.
5. It's difficult to find a country in Latin America that sounds both interesting to study and safe. I've been searching. Crime is awful in Central America/Mexico. Argentina and Chile are boring. I'm thinking Peru. . . .
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Learning and Happiness
I've been thinking about what makes me happiest:
Outdoor adventures, certainly.
Reading books.
Teaching classes.
Playing board games.
Talking to interesting people.
What do these things have in common?
Learning.
So, let's take outdoor adventures. I really enjoy them all, but they really sing to my soul when I go new places or learn new skills.
Or let's take board games. One wouldn't think they're a learning experience (and sometimes they're not), but, again, they're at their best when I discover new strategies or ways of seeing them.
Or, crossword puzzles, which I've decided I love. I learn new words, new associations, new ways of thinking.
I hope to dedicate my weekly blog to stuff I've learned. Maybe a daily Facebook post on what I've learned too.
Outdoor adventures, certainly.
Reading books.
Teaching classes.
Playing board games.
Talking to interesting people.
What do these things have in common?
Learning.
So, let's take outdoor adventures. I really enjoy them all, but they really sing to my soul when I go new places or learn new skills.
Or let's take board games. One wouldn't think they're a learning experience (and sometimes they're not), but, again, they're at their best when I discover new strategies or ways of seeing them.
Or, crossword puzzles, which I've decided I love. I learn new words, new associations, new ways of thinking.
I hope to dedicate my weekly blog to stuff I've learned. Maybe a daily Facebook post on what I've learned too.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Institutions Are Destiny
With the 4th of July this past week, it seems appropriate to review the hottest academic book on politics of the past year, "Why Nations Fail."
The book is written for a general audience, and if you're feeling smart and ambitious, it is well worth reading. It aims to be the "Guns, Germs, and Steel" of the social sciences. The thesis in "Guns, Germs, and Steel" is that Geography/Climate is Destiny. Civilization arose and thrived where geography and climate endowed people with the most nutritious and easily cultivatable food. Those locations created dynamic human societies that gave rise to complex socio-political institutions, sophisticated languages, inventions, and so forth.
"Why Nations Fail" addresses not the rise of civilization but rather the success and failure of modern nation-states. Why, for example, has the United States succeeded so much better than Mexico? The answer: Institutions are Destiny. Where inclusive, democratic-style political institutions are put in place early on, they produce economic progress and all good things, like rapid technological advances. American colonists got it right; Spanish colonists did not. All else flows from this. (Though, if forced to pick a single moment on which the fulcrum of history swings, "Why Nations Fail" would choose the 1688 Glorious Revolution in England rather than the founding of America.)
Most people I know already believe that the founding of the United States and its associated institutions (Declaration of Independence and the Constitution) are in fact responsible for the great things that have happened in this country. But this book only occasionally looks at the United States. It gazes more frequently at examples of poor political institutions, probably because there are many more examples to choose from. In recounting all the political institutions you've never heard of (from long-gone African kingdoms to colonial patterns in Central America), the book takes readers on a fascinating journey.
The book excels at drawing connections between those institutions and good economic outcomes, like growth and innovation. I've always believed that institutions are destiny. This book illustrates the ways in which institutions shape social and economic activity by using broad patterns and, at times, careful historical process-tracing. The case of the Southern United States is a fascinating example. The South failed to get its institutions right after the Civil War and thus descended into another 100-plus years of less robust growth and economic progress than the rest of the United States.
What does the book not do? It does not explain how these institutions arise, though at times it wants to. It also does not give enough credit to the importance of values and ideas. It might also underplay the importance of human capital (i.e., education). Wordiness is a problem; many chapters repeat main points far too frequently. But, all in all, a fabulous book and amazing achievement.
The book is written for a general audience, and if you're feeling smart and ambitious, it is well worth reading. It aims to be the "Guns, Germs, and Steel" of the social sciences. The thesis in "Guns, Germs, and Steel" is that Geography/Climate is Destiny. Civilization arose and thrived where geography and climate endowed people with the most nutritious and easily cultivatable food. Those locations created dynamic human societies that gave rise to complex socio-political institutions, sophisticated languages, inventions, and so forth.
"Why Nations Fail" addresses not the rise of civilization but rather the success and failure of modern nation-states. Why, for example, has the United States succeeded so much better than Mexico? The answer: Institutions are Destiny. Where inclusive, democratic-style political institutions are put in place early on, they produce economic progress and all good things, like rapid technological advances. American colonists got it right; Spanish colonists did not. All else flows from this. (Though, if forced to pick a single moment on which the fulcrum of history swings, "Why Nations Fail" would choose the 1688 Glorious Revolution in England rather than the founding of America.)
Most people I know already believe that the founding of the United States and its associated institutions (Declaration of Independence and the Constitution) are in fact responsible for the great things that have happened in this country. But this book only occasionally looks at the United States. It gazes more frequently at examples of poor political institutions, probably because there are many more examples to choose from. In recounting all the political institutions you've never heard of (from long-gone African kingdoms to colonial patterns in Central America), the book takes readers on a fascinating journey.
The book excels at drawing connections between those institutions and good economic outcomes, like growth and innovation. I've always believed that institutions are destiny. This book illustrates the ways in which institutions shape social and economic activity by using broad patterns and, at times, careful historical process-tracing. The case of the Southern United States is a fascinating example. The South failed to get its institutions right after the Civil War and thus descended into another 100-plus years of less robust growth and economic progress than the rest of the United States.
What does the book not do? It does not explain how these institutions arise, though at times it wants to. It also does not give enough credit to the importance of values and ideas. It might also underplay the importance of human capital (i.e., education). Wordiness is a problem; many chapters repeat main points far too frequently. But, all in all, a fabulous book and amazing achievement.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Adventure Books
I've always thought about reading adventure books, but never have. "Into Thin Air" is the one that people seem to know and talk about the most.
Then Ellen read a youth book in her young adult literature class about Shackleton's South Pole adventure that was tremendous, "Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World." I loved it. So, when I started thinking about fun summer reading, I looked around for the best.
I found this sweet list by National Geographic: http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/0404/adventure_books.html
The 100 best adventure books of all time. Into Thin Air is in the top 10, but was checked out from my public library. So I went with "Annapurna," the story of the first summit of a 26,000-foot peak, in 1950. It's pretty amazing. I also read "No Way Down," which is not on the list but is about a deadly day on K2, where 11 of 24 climbers died. It is excellent. So, I've found a new genre I love. I gave the K2 book to Nathan, who is also really enjoying it.
"Annapurna" deserves its place on the list of classics because the writing is really beautiful (translated from French). He is an adventurer with a gift for describing the scenery and the happenings around him. It also deserves a place because the book offers perhaps the best statements I've seen on what motivates folks like him. He lost all fingers and toes to frostbite and the journey down the mountain was agony. Yet he explains so well what drove him and he feels the cost was worth it. This isn't eloquent, but it boils down to: "It's just who I am and I have to be true to myself." From these books, I learn that great explorers have some serious egos and aren't the friendliest folks around or the easiest to get along with.
Then Ellen read a youth book in her young adult literature class about Shackleton's South Pole adventure that was tremendous, "Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World." I loved it. So, when I started thinking about fun summer reading, I looked around for the best.
I found this sweet list by National Geographic: http://www.nationalgeographic.com/adventure/0404/adventure_books.html
The 100 best adventure books of all time. Into Thin Air is in the top 10, but was checked out from my public library. So I went with "Annapurna," the story of the first summit of a 26,000-foot peak, in 1950. It's pretty amazing. I also read "No Way Down," which is not on the list but is about a deadly day on K2, where 11 of 24 climbers died. It is excellent. So, I've found a new genre I love. I gave the K2 book to Nathan, who is also really enjoying it.
"Annapurna" deserves its place on the list of classics because the writing is really beautiful (translated from French). He is an adventurer with a gift for describing the scenery and the happenings around him. It also deserves a place because the book offers perhaps the best statements I've seen on what motivates folks like him. He lost all fingers and toes to frostbite and the journey down the mountain was agony. Yet he explains so well what drove him and he feels the cost was worth it. This isn't eloquent, but it boils down to: "It's just who I am and I have to be true to myself." From these books, I learn that great explorers have some serious egos and aren't the friendliest folks around or the easiest to get along with.
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