The History of Economics & Economic Theory Explained with Comics, Starting with Adam Smith

economix adam smith

“Every­one has ques­tions about the econ­o­my. I start­ed look­ing for the answers in eco­nom­ics. I found enough insights to get me inter­est­ed, but I could­n’t seem to make the insights add up. I went back to the orig­i­nal sources, the great econ­o­mists, and start­ed to see a big pic­ture. And while the whole pic­ture was com­pli­cat­ed, no one part of it was all that hard to under­stand. I could see that all this infor­ma­tion made a sto­ry. But I could­n’t find a book that told the sto­ry in an acces­si­ble way. So I decid­ed to write one, in the most acces­si­ble form I knew: comics.”

Thus begins Michael Good­win’s new book Economix: How Our Econ­o­my Works (and Does­n’t Work) in Words and Pic­tures.

The book cov­ers two (plus) cen­turies of eco­nom­ic his­to­ry. It starts with the Phys­iocrats, Adam Smith and the­o­ret­i­cal devel­op­ment of cap­i­tal­ism, and then steams ahead into the 19th cen­tu­ry, cov­er­ing the Indus­tri­al Rev­o­lu­tion, the rise of big busi­ness and big finance. Next comes the action packed 20th cen­tu­ry: the Great Depres­sion, the New Deal, the threat from Com­mu­nism dur­ing the Cold War, the tax reforms of the Rea­gan era, and even­tu­al­ly the crash of 2008 and Occu­py Wall Street. Along the way, Good­win and the illus­tra­tor Dan E. Burr demys­ti­fy the eco­nom­ic the­o­ries of fig­ures like Ricar­do, Marx, Malthus, Keynes, Fried­man and Hayek — all in a sub­stan­tive but approach­able way.

As with most treat­ments of mod­ern eco­nom­ics, the book starts with Adam Smith. To get a feel for Good­win’s approach, you can dive into the first chap­ter of Economix, which grap­ples with Smith’s the­o­ries about the free mar­ket, divi­sion of labor and the Invis­i­ble Hand. Economix can be pur­chased online here.

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Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Intro­duc­tion to Great Econ­o­mists — Adam Smith, the Phys­iocrats & More — Pre­sent­ed in a Free Online Course

60-Sec­ond Adven­tures in Eco­nom­ics: An Ani­mat­ed Intro to The Invis­i­ble Hand and Oth­er Eco­nom­ic Ideas

Read­ing Marx’s Cap­i­tal with David Har­vey (Free Course)

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T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” Gets Adapted As a Comic Book

prufrockPeters1

Poet­ry is as close as writ­ten lan­guage comes to the visu­al arts but, aside from nar­ra­tive poems, it is not a medi­um eas­i­ly adapt­ed to visu­al forms. Per­haps some of the least adapt­able, I would think, are the high mod­ernists, whose obses­sive focus on tech­nique ren­ders much of their work opaque to all but the most care­ful read­ers. The major poems of T.S. Eliot per­haps best rep­re­sent this ten­den­cy. And yet com­ic artist Julian Peters is up to the chal­lenge. Peters, who has pre­vi­ous­ly adapt­ed Poe, Keats, and Rim­baud, now takes on Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” and you can see the first nine pages at his site.

Writ­ten in 1910 and pub­lished five years lat­er, “Prufrock” has become a stan­dard ref­er­ence for Eliot’s doc­trine of the “objec­tive cor­rel­a­tive,” a con­cept he defines in his crit­i­cal essay, “Ham­let and His Prob­lems,” as “a set of objects, a sit­u­a­tion, a chain of events which shall be the for­mu­la of that par­tic­u­lar emo­tion.” It’s a the­o­ry he elab­o­rates in “Tra­di­tion and the Indi­vid­ual Tal­ent” in his dis­cus­sion of Dante. And Dante is where “Prufrock” begins, with an epi­graph from the Infer­no. Peters’ first page illus­trates the ago­nized speak­er of Dante’s lines, Gui­do da Mon­te­fel­tro, a soul con­fined to the eighth cir­cle, whom you can see at the top of the title page shown above. Peters’ visu­al choic­es place us firm­ly in the hell­ish emo­tion­al realm of “Prufrock,” a seem­ing cat­a­logue of the mun­dane that har­bors a dark­er import. Peters gives us no hint of when we might expect new pages, but I for one am eager to see more.

via The Rum­pus

Relat­ed Con­tent:

T.S. Eliot’s Rad­i­cal Poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” Read by Antho­ny Hop­kins and Eliot Him­self

T.S. Eliot Reads His Mod­ernist Mas­ter­pieces “The Waste Land” and “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”

Hear Gertrude Stein Read Works Inspired by Matisse, Picas­so, and T.S. Eliot (1934)

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

R. Crumb’s Heroes of Blues, Jazz & Country Features 114 Illustrations of the Artist’s Favorite Musicians

CrumbHeroes

It was one of my favorite gifts of Christ­mas 2006. No, all apolo­gies to every­one who bought me thought­ful gew­gaws, but it was, with­out a doubt, the favorite. A hum­ble, unas­sum­ing pack­age con­tained a ver­i­ta­ble ency­clo­pe­dia of Amer­i­cana: over one hun­dred por­traits of jazz, blues, and coun­try artists from the gold­en eras of Amer­i­can music, all drawn by a fore­most anti­quar­i­an of pre-WWII music, R. Crumb. Beside each portrait—some made with Crumb’s exag­ger­at­ed pro­por­tions and thick-lined shad­ing, some soft­er and more realist—was a brief, one-para­graph bio, just enough to sit­u­ate the singer, play­er, or band with­in the pan­theon.

Though a fan of this sort of thing may think that it could get no bet­ter, glued to the back cov­er was a slip­case con­tain­ing a CD with 21 tracks—seven from each genre. A quick scan showed a few famil­iar names: Skip James, Char­lie Pat­ton, Jel­ly Roll Mor­ton. Then there were such unknown enti­ties as Mem­phis Jug Band, Crockett’s Ken­tucky Moun­taineers, and East Texas Ser­e­naders, culled from Crumb’s enor­mous, library-size archive of rare 78s. Joy to the world.

Crumb’s Heroes of Blues, Jazz & Coun­try began in the 80s with a series of illus­trat­ed trad­ing cards, as you can see in the video above (which only cov­ers the blues and jazz cor­ners of the tri­an­gle). The first cards, “Heroes of the Blues,” came attached to old-time reis­sues from the Yazoo record com­pa­ny. Even­tu­al­ly expand­ing the cards to include jazz and coun­try, work­ing in each cat­e­go­ry from old pho­tos or news­reel footage, Crumb cov­ered quite a lot of musi­co-his­tor­i­cal ground. Archivists and authors Stephen Calt, David Jasen, and Richard Nevins wrote the short blurbs. Final­ly Yazoo, rather than issu­ing the cards indi­vid­u­al­ly with each record, com­bined them into boxed sets.

The book—which val­i­dates my sense that this music belongs togeth­er cheek by jowl, even if some of its par­ti­sans can’t stand each other’s company—evolved through a painstak­ing process in which Crumb redrew and recol­ored the orig­i­nal illus­tra­tions from the print­ed trad­ing cards (the orig­i­nal art­work hav­ing dis­ap­peared). You can fol­low one step of that process in a detailed descrip­tion of Crumb’s con­ver­sion of the blues cards to a silkscreened poster. Crumb’s process is as thor­ough as his peri­od knowl­edge. But Crumb fans know that the com­ic artist’s rev­er­ence for Amer­i­cana goes beyond his col­lect­ing and extends to his own ver­sion of kitchen-sink blue­grass, blues, and jazz. Lis­ten to Crumb on the ban­jo above with his Cheap Suit Ser­e­naders. And if any­one feels like get­ting me a Christ­mas present this year, I’d like a copy of their record Chasin Rain­bows. On vinyl of course.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

A Short His­to­ry of Amer­i­ca, Accord­ing to the Irrev­er­ent Com­ic Satirist Robert Crumb

Record Cov­er Art by Under­ground Car­toon­ist Robert Crumb

The Con­fes­sions of Robert Crumb: A Por­trait Script­ed by the Under­ground Comics Leg­end Him­self (1987)

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

Hergé Draws Tintin in Vintage Footage (and What Explains the Character’s Enduring Appeal)

“Tintin addicts are a mixed bunch,” writes New York­er crit­ic Antho­ny Lane, pro­fil­ing the beloved plus fours-clad, quiff-topped adven­tur­er and there­by reveal­ing him­self as one of the afflict­ed. “Steven Spiel­berg and Peter Jack­son [have] a three-pic­ture deal to bring Tintin to the big screen. I once heard Hugh Grant declare on a radio pro­gram that if he could take only one book to a desert island it would be King Ottokar’s Scep­tre (1939). [ … ] Gen­er­al de Gaulle declared that Tintin was his only inter­na­tion­al rival â€” he was envi­ous, per­haps, not just of Tintin’s fame but of the defi­ant­ly pos­i­tive atti­tude that he came to rep­re­sent.” Despite com­ing from Amer­i­ca, one of the few coun­tries nev­er to have tak­en whole­heart­ed­ly to the char­ac­ter, I too have read and re-read the 23 full-length com­ic books (or as we call them nowa­days, graph­ic nov­els) in which he stars, and I too envy his qual­i­ties, espe­cial­ly the use­ful amor­phous­ness of his iden­ti­ty: nei­ther man nor boy; nei­ther tra­di­tion­al nor mod­ern; pre­sum­ably Bel­gian, though for prac­ti­cal pur­pos­es state­less and apo­lit­i­cal; osten­si­bly a reporter, but no appar­ent need ever to file a sto­ry.

The late Har­ry Thomp­son sure­ly ranks as a top Tintin addict. A radio and tele­vi­sion pro­duc­er, com­e­dy writer, nov­el­ist, and cre­ator of Have I Got News for You, he also great­ly advanced the wide­spread avo­ca­tion of Eng­lish-lan­guage Tinti­nol­o­gy with his book Tintin: HergĂ© and his Cre­ation, pub­lished in 1991. Three years lat­er, he would star in this episode of Lon­don Week­end Tele­vi­sion’s doc­u­men­tary series Open­ing Shot on Tintin and his cre­ator (part one at the top, click for two and three). His analy­sis swift­ly assures any adult read­er just how and why they should go about pick­ing up and appre­ci­at­ing the tru­ly painstak­ing crafts­man­ship of these comics they so rel­ished in their youth. The broad­cast also fea­tures com­men­tary from Tintin’s Eng­lish trans­la­tors and, through archival footage, from Georges “Hergé” Remi him­self (seen draw­ing Tintin just above, and his com­pan­ion Cap­tain Had­dock below). Final­ly, we hear from more typ­i­cal Tintin read­ers in man-on-the-street inter­views â€” or rather, pre­co­cious-British-child-in-the-book­store inter­views: “My favorite char­ac­ter is Snowy, because he says real­ly rude things.” “My favorite book is Tintin in Amer­i­ca, because I like red Indi­ans.” How many of these kids, near­ly two decades on, can have resist­ed the siren song of Tinti­nol­o­gy them­selves?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Inscrutable Imag­i­na­tion of the Late Com­ic Artist Mœbius

Vis­it the World of Lit­tle Nemo Artist Win­sor McCay: Three Clas­sic Ani­ma­tions and a Google Doo­dle

The Con­fes­sions of Robert Crumb: A Por­trait Script­ed by the Under­ground Comics Leg­end Him­self (1987)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on lit­er­a­ture, film, cities, Asia, and aes­thet­ics. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­lesA Los Ange­les PrimerFol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Robert Crumb Illustrates Philip K. Dick’s Infamous, Hallucinatory Meeting with God (1974)

CrumbExperienceofPKD

“I saw God,” Fat states, and Kevin and I and Sher­ri state, “No, you just saw some­thing like God, exact­ly like God.” And hav­ing spoke, we do not stay to hear the answer, like jest­ing Pilate, upon his ask­ing, “What is truth?”

–Philip K. Dick, VALIS

In the months of Feb­ru­ary and March, 1974, Philip K. Dick met God, or some­thing like God, or what he thought was God, at least, in a hal­lu­ci­na­to­ry expe­ri­ence he chron­i­cled in sev­er­al obses­sive­ly dense diaries that recent­ly saw pub­li­ca­tion as The Exe­ge­sis of Philip K. Dick, a work of deeply per­son­al theo-philo­soph­i­cal reflec­tion akin to Carl Jung’s The Red Book. What­ev­er it was he encountered—Dick was nev­er too dog­mat­ic about it—he end­ed up refer­ring to it as Zebra, or by the acronym VALIS, Vast Active Liv­ing Intel­li­gence Sys­tem, also the title of a nov­el detail­ing the expe­ri­ences of one very PKD-like char­ac­ter with the improb­a­ble name of “Horselover Fat.”

LSD-trig­gered psy­chot­ic break, gen­uine reli­gious expe­ri­ence, or some­thing else entire­ly, what­ev­er Dick’s encounter meant, he didn’t let the oppor­tu­ni­ty to turn it into art slip by him, and nei­ther did out­sider car­toon­ist and PKD fan Robert Crumb. In issue #17 of the under­ground comix mag­a­zine Weirdo, Crumb nar­rat­ed and illus­trat­ed Dick’s meet­ing with a divine intel­li­gence in the appro­pri­ate­ly titled “The Reli­gious Expe­ri­ence of Philip K. Dick.” It was even­tu­al­ly col­lect­ed in the edi­tion, The Weirdo Years by R. Crumb: 1981-’93. (See the com­ic in motion in the awk­ward, ama­teur video above.) The com­ic quotes direct­ly from Dick’s telling of the event, which began with a wis­dom tooth extrac­tion and was ulti­mate­ly trig­gered by a gold­en Chris­t­ian fish sym­bol worn around the neck of a phar­ma­ceu­ti­cal deliv­ery girl. Most PKD fans will be famil­iar with the sto­ry, whether they treat it as gospel or not, but to see it illus­trat­ed with such empa­thet­ic inten­si­ty by Crumb is tru­ly a treat.

If you only know Crumb as the cre­ator of las­civ­i­ous Rube­nesque women and schlub­by, drug­gy horn­dog hip­sters (like Fritz the Cat), you may be sur­prised by these emo­tion­al­ly real­ist illus­tra­tions. If you know Crumb’s more seri­ous work, like his take on the book of Gen­e­sis, you won’t. In either case, fans of Dick, Crumb, or—most likely—both, won’t want to miss this.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Down­load 14 Great Sci-Fi Sto­ries by Philip K. Dick as Free Audio Books and Free eBooks

Philip K. Dick Pre­views Blade Run­ner: “The Impact of the Film is Going to be Over­whelm­ing” (1981)

The Con­fes­sions of Robert Crumb: A Por­trait Script­ed by the Under­ground Comics Leg­end Him­self (1987)

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

Free Comic Books Turns Kids Onto Physics: Start With the Adventures of Nikola Tesla

physics cartoon for kids

Physic­s­Cen­tral, a web site run by The Amer­i­can Phys­i­cal Soci­ety (an orga­ni­za­tion rep­re­sent­ing 48,000 physi­cists), has cre­at­ed a series of com­ic books designed to get kids excit­ed about physics. If you click here, you can enjoy Niko­la Tes­la and the Elec­tric Fair for free online. The 2008 com­ic book pits Thomas Edi­son against Tes­la, the unsung hero of elec­tric­i­ty and mag­net­ism. Also on the Physics Cen­tral web site, you can enjoy four free comics from the Spec­tra series, which presents the adven­tures of a mid­dle school super­hero, who pos­sess­es all of the great pow­ers of a laser beam.

We’ll be sure to add these comics to our col­lec­tion of Free K‑12 Edu­ca­tion­al Resources.

via Boing­Bo­ing

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Thomas Edi­son and Niko­la Tes­la Face Off in “Epic Rap Bat­tles of His­to­ry”

A Brief, Ani­mat­ed Intro­duc­tion to Thomas Edi­son (and Niko­la Tes­la)

MIT & Khan Acad­e­my Team Up to Devel­op Sci­ence Videos for Kids. Includes The Physics of Uni­cy­cling

Free Physics Cours­es

425 Free eBooks: Down­load to Kin­dle, iPad/iPhone & Nook

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Read Ulysses Seen, A Graphic Novel Adaptation of James Joyce’s Ulysses

ulysses seen 2

You’ve start­ed read­ing Ulysses, James Joyce’s mod­ernist clas­sic, and nev­er quite made it the whole way through. Sound famil­iar? You’re in good com­pa­ny.

So here’s anoth­er approach. Start read­ing Ulysses Seen, the graph­ic nov­el adap­ta­tion of Joyce’s tome. The artist behind Ulysses Seen is Rob Berry, and he’s devot­ed to using “the visu­al aid of the graph­ic nov­el” to “fos­ter under­stand­ing of pub­lic domain lit­er­ary mas­ter­works.” He’s clear to point out that Ulysses Seen isn’t meant to replace Ulysses. Rather it’s meant to be a visu­al com­pan­ion to the orig­i­nal work. It uses the com­ic nar­ra­tive to “cut through jun­gles of unfa­mil­iar ref­er­ences” and to help read­ers “appre­ci­ate the sub­tle­ty and artistry” of Joyce’s text. So far Berry has com­plet­ed about 138 pages of Ulysses Seen, and more pages will be com­ing online at the Joyce Cen­ter web site in the near future. Accord­ing to Pub­lish­er’s Week­ly, the artist esti­mates that it will take rough­ly a decade to com­plete the full adap­ta­tion. (The orig­i­nal nov­el spans more than 700 pages after all.) In the mean­time, here are some more resources to help you get through Joyce’s great work:

James Joyce’s Ulysses: Down­load the Free Audio Book

Read Joyce’s Ulysses Line by Line, for the Next 22 Years, with Frank Delaney’s Pod­cast

James Joyce Man­u­scripts Online, Free Cour­tesy of The Nation­al Library of Ire­land

Stephen Fry Explains His Love for James Joyce’s Ulysses

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New Yorker Cartoon Editor Bob Mankoff Reveals the Secret of a Successful New Yorker Cartoon

A friend of mine rails against the New York­er’s week­ly car­toon cap­tion con­test, insist­ing that while the read­er-sub­mit­ted entries are uni­ver­sal­ly bad, the win­ner is always the weak­est of the lot.

I dis­agree, agog at peo­ple’s clev­er­ness. Any line I come up with feels too obvi­ous or too obscure. Unlike my friend, I nev­er feel I could do bet­ter.

Car­toon edi­tor Bob Mankof­f’s recent TED Talk offers some key insights into what the mag­a­zine is look­ing for (incon­gruity, dis­po­si­tion­al humor, cog­ni­tive mash ups), as well as what it’s not inter­est­ed in (gross-out jokes, mild child-cen­tered can­ni­bal­ism) He also cites for­mer con­trib­u­tor and author of my father’s favorite New York­er car­toon, E.B. White on the futil­i­ty of ana­lyz­ing humor.

Fre­quent con­trib­u­tor Matthew Dif­fee’s short  satir­i­cal film Being Bob sug­gests Mankoff edi­to­r­i­al selec­tions owe much to gut response (and a jerk­ing knee). Such intu­ition is hard won. Mankoff glee­ful­ly alludes to the 2000 rejec­tion let­ters he him­self received between 1974 and 1977, fol­low­ing an uncer­e­mo­ni­ous dis­missal from psy­chol­o­gy school. Then, final­ly, he got his first accep­tance.

That accep­tance let­ter is some­thing to see.

Ayun Hal­l­i­day used Charles Bar­sotti’s New York­er car­toon of a danc­ing bird as her high­school year­book’s senior say­ing. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The New Yorker’s Fic­tion Pod­cast: Where Great Writ­ers Read Sto­ries by Great Writ­ers

Improv with New York­er Car­toon­ists

Einstein’s Rel­a­tiv­i­ty: An Ani­mat­ed New York­er Car­toon

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