New Documentary Joan Didion: The Center Will Not Hold Now Streaming on Netflix

Quick note: Net­flix just launched a new doc­u­men­tary Joan Did­ion: The Cen­ter Will Not Hold. It’s a por­trait (nat­u­ral­ly) of the now 82-year-old lit­er­ary icon, Joan Did­ion, that’s direct­ed by her own nephew Grif­fin Dunne. If you have a Net­flix account, you can start stream­ing the 90 minute doc­u­men­tary here. If you don’t, you could always sign up for Net­flix’s 30-day free tri­al.

If you read the reviews of the film (at the New York­er, New York Times, NPR, etc), you’ll hear echoes of what God­frey Cheshire has to say over at RogerEbert.com:

A fond and appre­cia­tive por­trait of one of Amer­i­can journalism’s super­stars, “Joan Did­ion: The Cen­ter Will Not Hold” may not con­tain any rev­e­la­tions that will sur­prise those who’ve fol­lowed Didion’s elo­quent, often auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal writ­ing over the years. But the fact that it was made by her nephew, actor/filmmaker Grif­fin Dunne, gives it a warmth and inti­ma­cy that might not have graced a more stan­dard doc­u­men­tary.

Again, you can start stream­ing here

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Relat­ed Con­tent:

New Jim Jar­musch Doc­u­men­tary on Iggy Pop & The Stooges Now Stream­ing Free on Ama­zon Prime

Long Strange Trip, the New 4‑Hour Doc­u­men­tary on the Grate­ful Dead, Is Now Stream­ing Free on Ama­zon Prime

Read 12 Mas­ter­ful Essays by Joan Did­ion for Free Online, Span­ning Her Career From 1965 to 2013

Joan Did­ion Reads From New Mem­oir, Blue Nights, in Short Film Direct­ed by Grif­fin Dunne

Watch the New Trail­er for the Upcom­ing Joan Did­ion Doc­u­men­tary, We Tell Our­selves Sto­ries In Order to Live

How the CIA Funded & Supported Literary Magazines Worldwide While Waging Cultural War Against Communism

Over the course of this tumul­tuous year, new CIA direc­tor Mike Pom­peo has repeat­ed­ly indi­cat­ed that he would move the Agency in a “more aggres­sive direc­tion.” In response, at least one per­son took on the guise of for­mer Chilean pres­i­dent Sal­vador Allende and joked, incred­u­lous­ly, “more aggres­sive”? In 1973, the reac­tionary forces of Gen­er­al Augus­to Pinochet over­threw Allende, the first elect­ed Marx­ist leader in Latin Amer­i­ca. Pinochet then pro­ceed­ed to insti­tute a bru­tal 17-year dic­ta­tor­ship char­ac­ter­ized by mass tor­ture, impris­on­ment, and exe­cu­tion. The Agency may not have orches­trat­ed the coup direct­ly but it did at least sup­port it mate­ri­al­ly and ide­o­log­i­cal­ly under the orders of Pres­i­dent Richard Nixon, on a day known to many, post-2001, as “the oth­er 9/11.”

The Chilean coup is one of many CIA inter­ven­tions into the affairs of Latin Amer­i­ca and the for­mer Euro­pean colonies in Africa and Asia after World War II. It is by now well known that the Agency “occa­sion­al­ly under­mined democ­ra­cies for the sake of fight­ing com­mu­nism,” as Mary von Aue writes at Vice, through­out the Cold War years. But years before some of its most aggres­sive ini­tia­tives, the CIA “devel­oped sev­er­al guis­es to throw mon­ey at young, bur­geon­ing writ­ers, cre­at­ing a cul­tur­al pro­pa­gan­da strat­e­gy with lit­er­ary out­posts around the world, from Lebanon to Ugan­da, India to Latin Amer­i­ca.” The Agency didn’t invent the post-war lit­er­ary move­ments that first spread through the pages of mag­a­zines like The Par­ti­san Review and The Paris Review in the 1950s. But it fund­ed, orga­nized, and curat­ed them, with the full knowl­edge of edi­tors like Paris Review co-founder Peter Matthiessen, him­self a CIA agent.

The Agency waged a cold cul­ture war against inter­na­tion­al Com­mu­nism using many of the peo­ple who might seem most sym­pa­thet­ic to it. Revealed in 1967 by for­mer agent Tom Braden in the pages of the Sat­ur­day Evening Post, the strat­e­gy involved secret­ly divert­ing funds to what the Agency called “civ­il soci­ety” groups. The focal point of the strat­e­gy was the CCF, or “Con­gress for Cul­tur­al Free­dom,” which recruit­ed lib­er­al and left­ist writ­ers and edi­tors, often­times unwit­ting­ly, to “guar­an­tee that anti-Com­mu­nist ideas were not voiced only by reac­tionary speak­ers,” writes Patrick Iber at The Awl. As Braden con­tend­ed in his exposé, in “much of Europe in the 1950s, social­ists, peo­ple who called them­selves ‘left’—the very peo­ple whom many Amer­i­cans thought no bet­ter than Communists—were about the only peo­ple who gave a damn about fight­ing Com­mu­nism.”

No doubt some lit­er­ary schol­ars would find this claim ten­den­tious, but it became agency doc­trine not only because the CIA saw fund­ing and pro­mot­ing writ­ers like James Bald­win, Gabriel Gar­cia Márquez, Richard Wright, and Ernest Hem­ing­way as a con­ve­nient means to an end, but also because many of the pro­gram’s founders were them­selves lit­er­ary schol­ars. The CIA began as a World War II spy agency called the Office of Strate­gic Ser­vices (OSS). After the war, says Guer­ni­ca mag­a­zine edi­tor Joel Whit­ney in an inter­view with Bomb, “some of the OSS guys became pro­fes­sors at Ivy League Uni­ver­si­ties,” where they recruit­ed peo­ple like Matthiessen.

The more lib­er­al guys who were part of the brain trust that formed the CIA saw that the Sovi­ets in Berlin were get­ting mass­es of peo­ple from oth­er sec­tors to come over for their sym­phonies and films. They saw that cul­ture itself was becom­ing a weapon, and they want­ed a kind of Min­istry of Cul­ture too. They felt the only way they could get this paid for was through the CIA’s black bud­get. 

McCarthy-ism reigned at the time, and “the less sophis­ti­cat­ed reac­tionar­ies,” says Whit­ney, “who rep­re­sent­ed small states, small towns, and so on, were very sus­pi­cious of cul­ture, of the avant-garde, the lit­tle intel­lec­tu­al mag­a­zines, and of intel­lec­tu­als them­selves.” But Ivy League agents who fan­cied them­selves tastemak­ers saw things very dif­fer­ent­ly.

Whitney’s book, Finks: How the CIA Tricked the World’s Best Writ­ers, doc­u­ments the Agency’s whirl­wind of activ­i­ty behind lit­er­ary mag­a­zines like the Lon­don-based Encounter, French Preuves, Ital­ian Tem­po Pre­sente, Aus­tri­an Forum, Aus­tralian Quad­rant, Japan­ese Jiyu, and Latin Amer­i­can Cuader­nos and Mun­do Nue­vo. Many of the CCF’s founders and par­tic­i­pants con­ceived of the enter­prise as “an altru­is­tic fund­ing of cul­ture,” Whit­ney tells von Aue. “But it was actu­al­ly a con­trol of jour­nal­ism, a con­trol of the fourth estate. It was a con­trol of how intel­lec­tu­als thought about the US.”

While we often look at post-war lit­er­a­ture as a bas­tion of anti-colo­nial, anti-estab­lish­ment sen­ti­ment, the pose, we learn from researchers like Iber and Whit­ney, was often care­ful­ly cul­ti­vat­ed by a num­ber of inter­me­di­aries. Does this mean we can no longer enjoy this lit­er­a­ture as the artis­tic cre­ation of sin­gu­lar genius­es? “You want to know the truth about the writ­ers and pub­li­ca­tions you love,” says Whit­ney, “but that shouldn’t mean they’re ruined.” Indeed, the Agency’s cul­tur­al oper­a­tions went far beyond the lit­tle mag­a­zines. The Con­gress of Cul­tur­al Free­doms used jazz musi­cians like Louie Arm­strong, Dave Brubeck, and Dizzy Gille­spie as “good­will ambas­sadors” in con­certs all over the world, and fund­ed exhi­bi­tions of Abstract Expres­sion­ists like Mark Rothko, Jack­son Pol­lack, and Willem de Koon­ing.

The motives behind fund­ing and pro­mot­ing mod­ern art might mys­ti­fy us unless we include the con­text in which such cul­tur­al war­fare devel­oped. After the Cuban Rev­o­lu­tion and sub­se­quent Com­mu­nist fer­vor in for­mer Euro­pean colonies, the Agency found that “soft lin­ers,” as Whit­ney puts it, had more anti-Com­mu­nist reach than “hard lin­ers.” Addi­tion­al­ly, Com­mu­nist pro­pa­gan­dists could eas­i­ly point to the U.S.‘s socio-polit­i­cal back­ward­ness and lack of free­dom under Jim Crow. So the CIA co-opt­ed anti-racist writ­ers at home, and could silence artists abroad, as it did in the mid-60s when Louis Arm­strong went behind the Iron Cur­tain and refused to crit­i­cize the South, despite his pre­vi­ous strong civ­il rights state­ments. The post-war world saw thriv­ing free press­es and arts and lit­er­ary cul­tures filled with bold exper­i­men­tal­ism and philo­soph­i­cal and polit­i­cal debate. Know­ing who real­ly con­trolled these con­ver­sa­tions offers us an entire­ly new way to view the direc­tions they inevitably seemed to take.

via The Awl

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Par­ti­san Review Now Free Online: Read All 70 Years of the Pre­em­i­nent Lit­er­ary Jour­nal (1934–2003)

How the CIA Secret­ly Fund­ed Abstract Expres­sion­ism Dur­ing the Cold War

Louis Arm­strong Plays His­toric Cold War Con­certs in East Berlin & Budapest (1965)

Read the CIA’s Sim­ple Sab­o­tage Field Man­u­al: A Time­less, Kafkaesque Guide to Sub­vert­ing Any Orga­ni­za­tion with “Pur­pose­ful Stu­pid­i­ty” (1944)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Three Huge Volumes of Stoic Writings by Seneca Now Free Online, Thanks to Tim Ferriss

“The great­est obsta­cle to liv­ing is expectan­cy, which hangs upon tomor­row and los­es today,” wrote Lucius Annaeus Seneca the Younger. “You are arrang­ing what is in For­tune’s con­trol and aban­don­ing what lies in yours.” That still much-quot­ed obser­va­tion from the first-cen­tu­ry Roman philoso­pher and states­man, best known sim­ply as Seneca, has a place in a much larg­er body of work. Seneca’s writ­ings stand, along with those of Zeno, Epicte­tus, and Mar­cus Aure­lius, as a pil­lar of Sto­ic phi­los­o­phy, a sys­tem of think­ing which empha­sizes the pri­ma­cy of per­son­al virtue and the impor­tance of observ­ing one­self objec­tive­ly and mas­ter­ing, instead of being mas­tered by, one’s own emo­tions.

The Sto­ics found their way of life ben­e­fi­cial indeed in the harsh real­i­ty of more than 2,000 years ago, but Sto­icism los­es none of its val­ue when prac­ticed by those of us liv­ing today.

“At its core, it teach­es you how to sep­a­rate what you can con­trol from what you can­not, and it trains you to focus exclu­sive­ly on the for­mer,” writes self-improve­ment maven Tim Fer­riss in his intro­duc­tion to The Tao of Seneca, the three-vol­ume col­lec­tion of Seneca’s let­ters, illus­tra­tion and lined mod­ern com­men­tary, that he’s just pub­lished free on the inter­net. (For instruc­tions on how to upload them to your Kin­dle, see this page.)

Of all the Sto­ics, he con­tin­ues, “Seneca stands out as easy to read, mem­o­rable, and sur­pris­ing­ly prac­ti­cal. He cov­ers specifics rang­ing from han­dling slan­der and back­stab­bing, to fast­ing, exer­cise, wealth, and death.” (Fer­riss has also cre­at­ed audio­book ver­sions of the texts, which you can buy through Audi­ble. Or get a cou­ple for free by sign­ing up for Audi­ble’s 30-day free tri­al pro­gram.)

Fer­ris sug­gests mak­ing Seneca “part of your dai­ly rou­tine. Set aside 10–15 min­utes a day and read one let­ter. Whether over cof­fee in the morn­ing, right before bed, or some­where in between, digest one let­ter.” He also adds that “Sto­icism has spread like wild­fire through­out Sil­i­con Val­ley and the NFL in the last five years, becom­ing a men­tal tough­ness train­ing sys­tem for CEOs, founders, coach­es, and play­ers alike,” evi­denc­ing a results-ori­ent­ed approach that may divide Sto­icism enthu­si­asts, many of whom believe that the true Sto­ic should nev­er con­sid­er the prod­uct, which will always lie out­side one’s realm of con­trol, but only the process. But even the ancients would sure­ly agree that any prompt to action is worth tak­ing, espe­cial­ly when it asks the cost of not a sin­gle coin — drach­ma, denar­ius, pen­ny, or bit.

The Tao of Seneca will be added to our col­lec­tion, 800 Free eBooks for iPad, Kin­dle & Oth­er Devices.

(via /r/stoicism)

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Sto­icism, the Ancient Greek Phi­los­o­phy That Lets You Lead a Hap­py, Ful­fill­ing Life

Alain de Botton’s School of Life Presents Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tions to Hei­deg­ger, The Sto­ics & Epi­cu­rus

A Guide to Hap­pi­ness: Alain de Botton’s Doc­u­men­tary Shows How Niet­zsche, Socrates & 4 Oth­er Philoso­phers Can Change Your Life

1,000 Free Audio Books: Down­load Great Books for Free

135 Free Phi­los­o­phy eBooks

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

The Colors of Mister Rogers’ Hand-Knit Sweaters from 1979 to 2001: A Visual Graph Created with Data Science

Writer Owen Phillips may be a sol­id data ana­lyst, but I sus­pect he’s not much of a knit­ter.

The soft­ware he used to run a sci­en­tif­ic analy­sis of 22 years worth of Fred Rogers’ sweaters ulti­mate­ly reduces the beloved children’s tele­vi­sion host’s homey zip-front cardi­gans to a slick graph­ic of col­or­ful bars.

A knit­ter would no doubt pri­or­i­tize oth­er types of pat­terns — stitch num­bers, wool weight, cable variations…the sort of infor­ma­tion Mis­ter Rogers’ moth­er, Nan­cy, would have had at her fin­ger­tips.

As Mis­ter Rogers reveals in the sto­ry of his sweaters, his mom was the knit­ter behind many of the on-air sweaters Phillips crunched with R code. Whether their sub­tly shift­ing palette reflects an adven­tur­ous spir­it on the part of the mak­er or the recipient’s evolv­ing taste is not for us to know.

After Mrs. Rogers’ death, pro­duc­ers had to resort to buy­ing sim­i­lar mod­els. Many of her orig­i­nals had worn through or been donat­ed to char­i­ty events.

“Not an easy chal­lenge in the 80’s and 90s,” Mar­gy Whit­mer, a pro­duc­er of Mis­ter Rogers’ Neigh­bor­hood told Rewire. “It cer­tain­ly wasn’t in style! But we found a com­pa­ny who made cot­ton ones that were sim­i­lar, so we bought a bunch and dyed them.”

(A moment of silent grat­i­tude that no one tried to shoe­horn Fred Rogers into a Cos­by Show sweater…)

It would be inter­est­ing to see what Phillips’ code could do with faulty view­er mem­o­ries.

His input for the Mis­ter Rogers’ Cardi­gans of Many Col­ors project was a chart on super fan Tim Lybarger’s Neigh­bor­hood Archive detail­ing the hue of every sweater Mis­ter Rogers changed into on-cam­era from 1979 to 2001.

With­out sam­ples of the actu­al sweaters, Lybarger’s col­or chart could only be approx­i­mate, but unlike view­ers’ fad­ing mem­o­ries, it’s root­ed in his own visu­al obser­va­tions of dis­tinct episodes. Aging fans tend to jet­ti­son Rogers’ spec­tral real­i­ty in favor of a sin­gle shade, the bright red in which he greet­ed Wicked Witch of the West Mar­garet Hamil­ton in 1975, say, or the pleas­ant mouse-col­ored num­ber he sport­ed for a 1985 break­danc­ing ses­sion with a vis­it­ing 12-year-old.

For those who’d rather code than purl, Phillips shares MrRogers.R, the pro­gram he used to scrape the Neigh­bor­hood Archive for Mis­ter Rogers dai­ly sweater col­ors.

Then have a look at Rogers’ sweaters as ren­dered by Phillips’ fel­low data geek, Alan Joyce, who tin­kered with Phillips’ code to pro­duce a gra­di­ent image.

via Kot­tke

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mr. Rogers Takes Break­danc­ing Lessons from a 12-Year-Old (1985)

Mr. Rogers Intro­duces Kids to Exper­i­men­tal Elec­tron­ic Music by Bruce Haack & Esther Nel­son (1968)

Mis­ter Rogers Turns Kids On to Jazz with Help of a Young Wyn­ton Marsalis and Oth­er Jazz Leg­ends (1986)

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Her cur­rent project is The­ater of the Apes Sub-Adult Division’s fast approach­ing pro­duc­tion of Ani­mal Farm at the Tank in New York City.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

2,800 JFK Assassination Documents Just Released by the National Archives

Moments ago, the Nation­al Archives released a trove of 2,800 doc­u­ments that will shed more light on the assas­si­na­tion of John F. Kennedy. Accord­ing to the Archives, the release includes “FBI, CIA, and oth­er agency doc­u­ments (both for­mer­ly with­held in part and for­mer­ly with­held in full) iden­ti­fied by the Assas­si­na­tion Records Review Board as assas­si­na­tion records.” You can find the doc­u­ments here.

This data dump was meant to include even more doc­u­ments. But, accord­ing to The New York Times, Don­ald Trump “bowed to protests by the C.I.A. and F.B.I. by with­hold­ing thou­sands of addi­tion­al papers pend­ing six more months of review.” If those ever see the light of day, we’ll let you know.

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Where Did the English Language Come From?: An Animated Introduction

If you’ve ever delib­er­ate­ly stud­ied the Eng­lish lan­guage — or, even worse, taught it — you know that bot­tom­less aggra­va­tion awaits any­one fool­ish enough to try to explain its “rules.” What makes Eng­lish so appar­ent­ly strange and dif­fer­ent from oth­er lan­guages, and how could such a lan­guage go on to get so much trac­tion all over the world? Whether you speak Eng­lish native­ly (and thus haven’t had much occa­sion to give the mat­ter thought) or learned it as a sec­ond lan­guage, the five-minute TED-Ed les­son above, writ­ten by Yale lin­guis­tics pro­fes­sor Claire Bow­ern and ani­mat­ed by Patrick Smith, will give you a sol­id start on under­stand­ing the answer to those ques­tions and oth­ers.

“When we talk about ‘Eng­lish,’ we often think of it as a sin­gle lan­guage,” says the lesson’s nar­ra­tor, “but what do the dialects spo­ken in dozens of coun­tries around the world have in com­mon with each oth­er, or with the writ­ings of Chaucer? And how are any of them relat­ed to the strange words in Beowulf?”

The answer involves Eng­lish’s dis­tinc­tive evo­lu­tion­ary path through gen­er­a­tions and gen­er­a­tions of speak­ers, expand­ing and chang­ing all the while. Along the way, it’s picked up words from Latin-derived Romance lan­guages like French and Span­ish, a process that began with the Nor­man inva­sion of Eng­land in 1066. So also emerged Old Eng­lish, a mem­ber of — you guessed it — the Ger­man­ic lan­guage fam­i­ly, one brought to the British isles in the fifth and sixth cen­turies. Then, of course, you’ve got the Viking invaders bring­ing in their Old Norse from the eighth to the eleventh cen­turies.

Eng­lish thus came to its char­ac­ter­is­ti­cal­ly rich (and often con­fus­ing) mix­ture of words drawn from all over the place quite some time ago, leav­ing mod­ern lin­guists to per­form the qua­si-archae­o­log­i­cal task of trac­ing each word back to its ori­gins through its sound and usage. Go far enough and you get to the tongues we call “Pro­to-Ger­man­ic,” spo­ken cir­ca 500 BC, and “Pro­to-Indo-Euro­pean,” which had its hey­day six mil­len­nia ago in mod­ern-day Ukraine and Rus­sia. Eng­lish now often gets labeled, right­ly or wrong­ly, a “glob­al lan­guage,” but a look into its com­pli­cat­ed his­to­ry — and thus the his­to­ry of all Euro­pean lan­guages — reveals some­thing more impres­sive: “Near­ly three bil­lion peo­ple around the world, many of whom can­not under­stand each oth­er, are nev­er­the­less speak­ing the same words, shaped by 6,000 years of his­to­ry.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Free Eng­lish Lessons

The His­to­ry of the Eng­lish Lan­guage in Ten Ani­mat­ed Min­utes

The Largest His­tor­i­cal Dic­tio­nary of Eng­lish Slang Now Free Online: Cov­ers 500 Years of the “Vul­gar Tongue”

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

6,000 Letters by Marcel Proust to Be Digitized & Put Online

Quick fyi: Next year, an archive of 6,000 let­ters by Mar­cel Proust will be dig­i­tized and made freely avail­able online. The let­ters come from the col­lec­tion of Philip Kolb, a Proust schol­ar from the Uni­ver­si­ty of Illi­nois at Urbana Cham­paign. Accord­ing to The New York Times, “the first tranche of the let­ters, sev­er­al hun­dred relat­ed to the First World War, are expect­ed to be pub­lished online by Nov. 11, 2018, to coin­cide with the 100th anniver­sary of the end of the war.” We’ll update you when the let­ters actu­al­ly appear online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The First Known Footage of Mar­cel Proust Dis­cov­ered: Watch It Online

An Intro­duc­tion to the Lit­er­ary Phi­los­o­phy of Mar­cel Proust, Pre­sent­ed in a Mon­ty Python-Style Ani­ma­tion

When James Joyce & Mar­cel Proust Met in 1922, and Total­ly Bored Each Oth­er

16-Year-Old Mar­cel Proust Tells His Grand­fa­ther About His Mis­guid­ed Adven­tures at the Local Broth­el

Mar­cel Proust Fills Out a Ques­tion­naire in 1890: The Man­u­script of the ‘Proust Ques­tion­naire’

The Social Lives of Trees: Science Reveals How Trees Mysteriously Talk to Each Other, Work Together & Form Nurturing Families

In addi­tion to its ham-hand­ed exe­cu­tion, maybe one of the rea­sons M. Night Shyamalan’s The Hap­pen­ing failed with crit­ics is that its premise seemed inher­ent­ly pre­pos­ter­ous. Who could sus­pend dis­be­lief? Trees don’t talk to each oth­er, act in groups, make cal­cu­la­tions, how fool­ish! But they do, forester Suzanne Simard aims to con­vince us in the TED video above.

Trees aren’t just trees. They are the vis­i­ble man­i­fes­ta­tions of “this oth­er world” under­ground, “a world of infi­nite bio­log­i­cal path­ways that con­nect trees and allow them to com­mu­ni­cate, and allow the for­est to behave as if it’s a sin­gle organ­ism. It might remind you of a sort of intel­li­gence.” One shared not only by trees but by all of the beings that live in and among them. Forests are alive, though per­haps they are not plot­ting their revenge on us, even if we’ve earned it.

Simard tells the sto­ry of grow­ing up in British Colum­bia among the inland rain­forests. Old wet tem­per­ate forests crawl­ing with ancient ferns like giant green hands; cities of mush­rooms grow­ing around cen­turies-old fall­en trees; whole planes of bird and insect exis­tence in the canopies, Amer­i­can megafau­na, the elk, the bear…. On a recent hike deep into the Olympia Nation­al For­est in Wash­ing­ton, I found myself think­ing some sim­i­lar thoughts. It’s not that unusu­al to imag­ine, in the throes of “for­est bathing,” that “trees are nature’s inter­net,” as Simard says in a Seat­tle TED talk.

The dif­fer­ence is that Simard has had these thoughts all her life, devot­ed 30 years of research to test­ing her hypothe­ses, and used radioac­tive car­bon iso­topes to find two-way com­mu­ni­ca­tion between dif­fer­ent species of tree while being chased by angry griz­zly bears. Like­wise, most of us have not­ed the glar­ing sci­en­tif­ic absur­di­ties in the book of Gen­e­sis, but few may see the prob­lem with Noah’s Ark that Ital­ian botanist Ste­fano Man­cu­so does in his talk above. No one thought to bring any plants? God some­how neglect­ed to men­tion that all those ani­mals would need ecosys­tems, and fast? We laugh about an old man lit­er­al­ly load­ing repro­duc­ing pairs of every ani­mal on a boat… imag­ine him try­ing to fit entire forests….

Mancuso’s charm­ing accent and self-dep­re­cat­ing humor make his obser­va­tions seem light­heart­ed, but no less dev­as­tat­ing to our idea of our­selves as self-suf­fi­cient alpha crea­tures and of plants as bare­ly alive, inan­i­mate stuff scat­tered around us like nature’s fur­ni­ture, one step above the foun­da­tion­al rocks and stones. The idea is not lim­it­ed to the Bible; it has “accom­pa­nied human­i­ty” he says. Yet, just as pro­fes­sors do not belong at the top of a hier­ar­chy of life—as medieval schol­ars liked to imagine—plants do not belong at the bot­tom. Let Man­cu­so con­vince you that plants exhib­it “won­der­ful and com­plex behav­ior that can be con­sid­ered intel­li­gence.”

Isn’t this all a lit­tle pre­sump­tu­ous? Does any­one, after all, speak for the trees? Might their lan­guage be for­ev­er alien to us? Can we talk about “what plants talk about,” as ecol­o­gist J.C. Cahill asserts? Can we make soap opera spec­u­la­tions about “the hid­den life of trees,” as the title of Ger­man forester Peter Wohlleben’s book promis­es? Per­haps human lan­guage is nec­es­sar­i­ly anthropomorphic—we insist on see­ing our­selves at the cen­ter of every­thing. Maybe we need to think of trees as peo­ple to con­nect to them—as near­ly every ancient human civ­i­liza­tion has talked to nature through the inter­me­di­aries of spir­its, gods, devas, sprites, nymphs, ances­tors, etc.

As a forester with a lum­ber com­pa­ny, Wohlleben says, he “knew about as much about the hid­den life of trees as a butch­er knows about the emo­tion­al life of ani­mals.” They were already dead to him. Until he began to wake up to the silent com­mu­ni­ca­tion all around him. Trees can count, can learn, can remem­ber, he found. Trees have fam­i­lies. They nurse their chil­dren. As he says in the inter­view above, “I don’t claim this, that is actu­al research. But the sci­en­tists nor­mal­ly use lan­guage than can­not be under­stood. So I trans­lat­ed this, and sur­prise, sur­prise! Trees are liv­ing beings, trees are social, trees have feel­ings.” For most peo­ple, says Wohh­leben, this real­ly does come as a sur­prise.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

This 392-Year-Old Bon­sai Tree Sur­vived the Hiroshi­ma Atom­ic Blast & Still Flour­ish­es Today: The Pow­er of Resilience

Graph­ic Shows the House Plants That Nat­u­ral­ly Clean the Air in Your Home, Accord­ing to a NASA Study

Shel Silverstein’s The Giv­ing Tree: The Ani­mat­ed Film Nar­rat­ed by Shel Him­self (1973)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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