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by Quentin Lewis

Booknotes: We Had a Little Real Estate Problem by Kliph Nesteroff

We Had a Little Real Estate Problem: The Unheralded Story of Native Americans & Comedy

by Kliph Nesteroff

Finished 1/15/22

 

A delightful and honest counter-history of stand-up comedy that parallels the story of Native American resistance to colonialism in the 20th century.

Nesteroff’s first book “The Comedians” cast a broad and almost encylopedic net over the story of stand-up comedy, whose origins lay in the minstrel shows and vaudeville circuits of the 19th century. But in this book, Nesteroff makes clear  that another form of popular performance accompanied these more well-known proto-comedies–the Wild West and Medicine shows that toured the country in the last decades of the 19th century. Many of these shows featured apperances or even performances by Native people, and he suggests that it is in this venue that Native American standup comedy was born. At the same time, he also points out the darkness that lurks in these early comedic performances–that the performers were often given the choice of touring with such shows or going to prison, or that the abject poverty of Native communities who were imprisoned on reservations forced many people to take this work as the only means of livelihood available. That story, plus the horror of the residential school systems where Indigenous children were taken from their families and had their culture violently beaten out of them, set the context for the stories of comedians that unfold over the course of the rest of the book.

Thus, this is a book about finding laughter in horror and violence, not as satire or ridicule, but as a means of coping with oppression and surviving in spite of it.

The book tells the stories of several 20th century Native comedians, and juxtaposes their experiences with the newer generations of 21st century comedians who are working today. The former are documented in Nesteroff’s usual exhaustive and rich style, and include characters like Will Rogers (Cherokee), Jackie Curtiss (Mohawk),and most importantly the Oneida stand-up Charlie Hill, from whose most famous joke the book takes its title. Hill’s career and influence are the beating heart of the book, and it is his appearances on television and in comedy festivals that influence many of the contemporary comics that Nesteroff profiles, including Adrianne Chalepah, Larry Omaha, Dakota Ray Hebert, and the sketch comedy troupe the 1491s.

A few overarching themes emerge from this astonishing and broad book. First, many Native comedians see themselves as pushing against a White idea of Native people as serious, stoic, and humorless. This idea is rooted in the romantic (and racist) ideology of the “vanishing indian” perhaps most famously personified in the “crying indian” commercial from the 1970s. But for many Native comedians, this idea has been flipped on its head, and throughout the book there are frequent discussions of the role of humor in Native communities (and comics) as a means of managing, reckoning with, and addressing the trauma of colonization, residential school abuse, land and cultural theft, and genocide. Nesteroff  largely lets contemporary Native comedians tell their own stories, a deliberate choice that diverges from “The Comedians” and foregrounds the relationship between their lives and their artistry, and how they lived with or resisted that darkness.

Nesteroff notes the role that comedy and satire played in the American Indian Movement, touching on people like the poet and musician John Trudell (Santee Dakota) who was part of the alcatraz takeover in 1967, and Vine Deloria Jr (Standing Rock Sioux), whose famous book “Custer Died For Your Sins” was a critical but humorous look at the place of Indigenous people in 20th century American society. The relationship of politics on Native comedy was clearly deeply embedded–Charlie Hill raised money for Leonard Peltier’s defense, and many activists used their platforms to improve the often racist representations of Native people in popular media. Thus, the very presence of Native people onstage or on television was itself political, and Native artists frequently utilized that power to advance a Native or even decolonization agenda. 

There’s a lot more in this book–rich discussions of the American Indian Movement, profiles of struggling or up-and-coming Native comedians and the difficulties they face, and fascinating discussions of informal performance circuits like Pow-Wows or the “Silver Circle clubs” in Nevada. It’s also a rich introduction to 20th century Indigenous history  and culture, largely from the perspectives of Native people themselves.  Absolutely recommended.

 

 

by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 01/09/21-01/15/21

I had a long winter break that included visits from and to family, some rest, some stress, and very little work. Now I’m back, and there’s plenty to do.

This Week:

There was a man of double deed,
Who sowed his garden full of seed;
When the seed began to grow,
‘Twas like a garden full of snow;
When the snow began to melt,
‘Twas like a ship without a belt;
When the ship began to sail,
‘Twas like a bird without a tail;
When the bird began to fly,
‘Twas like an eagle in the sky;
When the sky began to roar,
‘Twas like a lion at my door;
When my door began to crack,
‘Twas like a stick across my back;
When my back began to smart,
‘Twas like a penknife in my heart;
And when my heart began to bleed,
‘Twas death, and death, and death indeed.

  • We set up the panels for the permanent exhibit “Black Lives at Hartwick Then and Now” in the Stevens-German library.
  • I did some work tracking down information on some prints in our collection by a Haudenosaunee artist named Bill Powless.
  • Almost two years from when I put it up, I finally started de-installing “dadibaajimo: Two Mississauga Artists Share Stories” featuring the artwork of Cathie Jamieson and Luke Swinson. It was a wonderful exhibit, and I’m really proud that the Yager Museum could host such a beautiful and rich exhibit of contemporary exhibit of Indigenous art.
by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 12/12/21-12/18/21

This Week:

  • My wife got tenure, and my heart is full of pride and joy.
  • We submitted grades for MUST251: North American Material Culture. The class was fun, and we’re looking for ways to teach it again in a more targeted way.
  • My mother in law came down to spend the holidays with us.
  • I did some preparatory work on Spring programming for our Haan speaker’s series on land acknowledgement.
  • We started the process of taking down “dadibaajimo: Two Mississauga Artists Share Stories”
  • I finished reading the first collected volume of Jack Kirby’s famous “New Gods” 1970s run of comics. It was almost like an opera, full of huge bodies and huge emotions, with clear lines of good and evil, and drawn in Kirby’s unique and vibrant style. It’s a classic for a reason.
  • We welcomed a visitor from the ARC for a job shadow.
  • I did some research on some collections objects for an upcoming project.
  • I wrote my yearnotes for 2021.
by Quentin Lewis

My Yearnotes for 2021

 

What I felt most accutely this year was a shifting and mutable sense of time; the way it compresses and expands and warps and freezes. I found myself very aware of having no time for some things and the stress and anxiety that comes with that. For other things, I felt the slow drag of every second passing.

In many ways, this year felt so much harder than last year, where we all were just struggling, one foot in front of the other, through the pandemic until the vaccines arrived. Now they’re here, but lots of people aren’t getting them, and all of us are suffering the slings and arrows of a shrinking, but increasingly intransigent population.

Indeed, “the slings and arrows of a shrinking but increasingly intransigent population” might best characterize whole aspects of American life in 2021. 

So what follows is my record of a heavy year, alternatively frozen still and rushing headlong into some unknown horizon, and of what I did and felt and even enjoyed along the way.

Music was a big part of my life this year.

I read 62 books year, for a total of around 15000 pages. The goal for this year was to clear my bookshelves of things I have been planning to read for a while, and overall, it was a success. Now they’re all in my basement. Progress!

Books that really stuck with me included:

  • Railsea by China Mieville–a wonderful blending of weird fiction with various 19th century genres (especially sailing novels and political romances), set in a post-apocalyptic future where humans hunt mutated moles through a desert criss-crossed with overlapping railroad tracks.
  • Beasts of Burden by Evan Dorkin and Jill Thompson–I heard this described as “Stranger Things” with household pets, which may be enough to entice. If it’s not, the gorgeous art of Jill Thompson should bring anybody to this delightful and fun graphic novel.
  • Things that Never Happen by M. John Harrison–I continue to devour everything I can find by this genre fiction master. I’m trying to locate something I can’t quite name in his elusive and alienated characters, who barely notice the increasingly strange worlds in which they live. This is an out of print collection of short stories, but many are reprinted in the newly-released collection “Settling the World."
  • Conspiracy of Interests by Laurence Hauptman–I’m a settler, on the lands of the Haudenosaunee people and the Oneida and Mohawk Nations, and I’ve tried hard to both learn the history of how that came to be, as well as incorporating that knowledge into my life and work. This book, which charts how New York State became a cohesive entity in the 19th century, through the direct dispossesion of the lands of the Oneida, Onondaga, and Seneca, helped me answer that question.
  • Four Lost Cities by Annalee Newitz–A book about urban life in the past, present, and (potential) future that is hopeful, rich, and engagingly written. It’s also a love-letter to archaeology, and the joy of discovering all the ways the past is radically different from the present, as well as eerily similar.

I watched a few movies, including Spring, Underwater, Crimson Peak, In the Earth, A Ghost Story, Dune, Hamilton, Ghidorah the Three Headed Monster, Lake Mungo, Johnny Mnemonic, Midnight Special, High Rise, Jupiter Ascending, Summer of Soul, Con Air, Paw Patrol: The Movie (at the Unadilla Drive-in!) and Kiki’s Delivery Service. “Spring” was amazing; a weird, grotesque and heartfelt meditation on love and mortality. I also really liked “Midnight Special,” which is sort of dark mirror of the superhero film, and unlike other “gritty” superhero movies, asks profound questions of the consequences of power on the empowered and their loved ones.

Podcasts continue their central role in my life. WTF w/ Marc Maron, Why is This Happening, Double Threat, Greetings Adventurers, Pseudopod, Deconstructed, The Memory Palace, Our Opinions are Correct, and Explorers Wanted are staples. Beyond that, I enjoyed

  • Know Your Enemy, a historical and cultural podcast where two socialists discuss the American right.
  • What had Happened Was, where rapper Open Mike Eagle engages in a long biographical dialog with a significant figure in Hip-Hop. EL-P’s tenure in the second season is not to be missed.
  • This Land, hosted by Cherokee journalist Rebecca Nagle, is an indispsensible and harrowing deep exploration of issues of Native American law and land. Season 2’s discussion of the Indian Child Welfare act was enlightening and emotional.
  • Blowback, which shines a harsh light on American foreign policy. Season 1 walked through the disaster of the Iraq war, while season two focuses on American policy towards Cuba.Both are full of rich and enraging detail.

I tried really hard to write fiction, but mostly failed to produce anything of substance. I started out the year strong, writing short scenes every week, using wikipedia’s “random article” feature for prompts. But I just couldn’t make my brain focus on the creative spark enough to sit down and do anything longer-term than that. I did submit a piece of flash fiction to Crystal Lake publishing’s “Shallow Waters” contest, entitled “Torn Page Found at an abandoned circus” which you can read here.

Professionally, I got quite a bit done

Politically, it was a dark year, and it’s getting darker. Trying to find a few points of light, I joined the Democratic Socialists of America, after cheering them on for years. I also joined the Black Trowel Collective, a group of archaeologists who are thinking about mutual aid and radical care operating in the past, as well as trying to implement those relationships in the present.

Our home and our home life continued to be a refuge and a source of strength.

  • I bought a bike, and tried to spend less time driving. I wanted to get more exercise and lose some more weight, neither of which were particularly successful efforts. Still, the bike’s not going anywhere, and I hope to continue to find ways to use it both for my own health, and the health of the planet.
  • We got a dog. Quill is delightful and an energetic and energizing member of our household.
  • With my father and my wife and my son, I built a playhouse for our kids. I also built a picnic table, and learned how to replace a light fixture.
  • Our family took little vacations to New Hampshire, Western Massachusetts, and Philadelphia, and did some regional travelling where we felt it was safe to do so.
  • I got to see my parents, and my mother-in-law in person for the first time since the pandemic started. I also got to see my good friend, the Minister of Intrigue, as well as various old friends in Western Massachusetts.
  • Both our kids returned to school/daycare this year, after months of being at home. They’ve both done really well settling back in, even with multiple quarantines and new procedures and uncertainty. I’m proud of them, even as I wish that it didn’t have to be this way.
  • I got to cheer on my amazing wife as she worked and fought hard at SUNY to be a great professor and a great scholar, in the face of the continued upheaval of the pandemic and the emotional toll it is taking on educators and students. I also got to see her reap some professional rewards for her hard work, including tenure at SUNY Oneonta. I’m so proud of her, and proud to be with her.

So time passes. All told, I’m happy to be putting this strange and uneven year aside, and making something new and better with the next one.

by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 12/5/21-12/11/21

This Week:

  • It was finals week at Hartwick, and our students submitted their final papers, which took the form of an object biography. It was a fun and challenging class to teach, and we had a great cohort of students who came with us along the way.
  • We did some work around the house to prepare for my mother in law coming to visit us over the holiday.
  • I finished reading “Corpsepaint” by David Peak. It’s a short novel about black metal, folk horror, and the end of the world. Surprisingly great, especially since many novels about musicians are not.
by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 11/28/21-12/4/21

This week:

  • MUST251: North American Material Culture finished up our classes, with a focus on two objects of modern material culture: bottled water and cell phones. The students have a final object biography due for their final. It’s been a fun class to co-teach, and I hope the students enjoyed it as much as I did.
  • I finished reading Matthew Bartlett’s “Gateways to Abomination” a collection of short and weird fiction centered in (and occasionally directly about) the Connecticut River Valley of western Massachusetts. This is a place I spent almost a decade of my life, and that I love deeply, so it was delightful to read this creepy and hallucinogenic collection of stories that revelled in a shadow/nightmare version of it.
  • I was very proud of my wife, who gave the Richard Siegfried lecture at SUNY Oneonta, and won the Siegfried Prize for Junior faculty. The kiddos and I went to her talk, which was both fascinating and entertaining because, she’s both of those things!
  • I watched “Jupiter Ascending” or “Jupiter Bewildering” as I took to calling it. I’ll say this for this incoherent and nonsensical film: I was never bored!
by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 11/21/21-11/27/21

This Week:

  • I celebrated 42 turns around the sun. Got a great stack of books to work my way through, and Alanna made a sumptuous and amazing Caramel Cake.
  • In MUST251, I taught a lecture on the Material Culture of Christmas, using Stephen Nissenbaum’s amazing book “The Battle for Christmas." Other inspirations came from my mentor and friend Bob Paynter, who taught a similar lecture in his Introduction to Anthropology class, as well as Tony Barrand, another mentor, whose musical group Nowell Sing We Clear provided the soundtrack.
  • We did Thanksgiving in our house, though without much of the pageantry (especially given that for many Native people, it’s a day of mourning). We made Puerco Pibil, took the dog to the new Dog Park, watched some TV, and did some work around the house.
  • I finished Mike Davis' masterful (and horrifying) book “Late Victorian Holocausts: El Nino Famines and the Making of the Third World." Its an unsparing and astonishingly detailed history of how European negligence (or deliberate violence) in its 19th century colonial ventures collided with El Nino Southern Oscilation weather/climate events to produce one of the great famine disasters in world history. It was hard reading, in many places, to see the callousness and inhumanity of European powers on display, and it is a reminder that no disaster is ever “natural.”
by Quentin Lewis

Booknotes- Late Victorian Holocausts by Mike Davis

A masterful summary of late 19th century world history that manages to link together nature and politics and sophisticated and brutal ways, and also reminds us (as if we need reminding) that there is no such thing as a “natural disaster.”

 Davis, the eminent social(ist) historian wrote this book in the early 2000s, at a time of growing interest in the impacts of the El Nino-Southern Oscilation process on historical events. He doesn’t speak directly to this in the book, but it’s clear that Davis was pushing back against the interpretatation of history as simply an unfolding of weather and climate forces acting on human societies. Instead Davis focuses his attention on the ways in which ENSO events emerged, structured, and elaborated within the regimes of accumulation and violence that characterized European imperialism in the late 19th century. In particular, Davis focuses on the famines that emerged in the wake of ENSO events, in three periods (1876-79, 1889-92, 1896-1902), and across Asia, Africa, and South America, but with a particular focus on India, China, and (to a lesser extent) Brazil.

What Davis ultimately documents is an astonishing confluence of liberal capitalist greed, colonial violence and disregard, and a particularly harsh series of ENSO-derived weather events. Taken together, he argues, they amounted to likely more than 30 million deaths, and probably closer to 50 million, certainly one of the largest concentrated famines in recorded history. Some of this was due to the irregular weather brought on by ENSO processes–long droughts, unstable monsoons or rainy seasons, and other unpredictable processes affecting the predominantly agricultural populations of these regions. But Davis argues that in almost every location, locals had developed adapaptations to unusual weather events–for example, the Qing dynasty who ruled 18th and 19th century China had sophisticated systems of grain storage and dispersal for times of famine, as well as rich and complex irrigation systems to distribute water to drought-prone areas.

What changed in the 19th century was European colonialism, and the brutal logics of capitalist imperialism that were imposed on India, China, and the other locales Davis investigates. Inspired by an almost messianic belief in the power of free markets, English (and French) imperialists forcibly inserted poor farmers into ruthless global markets for food and land which had the effect of placing people in marginal subsistence circumstances (due to the weather) at the whims of prices being set on the other side of the world. This system was brutally installed and supported by colonial powers and people who combined a fierce belief in the efficacy of market capitalism with a racial ideology that blamed non-white people for their own suffering.

The book is essentially divided in three sections. The first two sections document, in horrifying detail, the nature of the famines in the three periods. India, China, and Brazil receive the most focus, but Davis provides starting accounts of famines in the late 19th century from nearly every corner of the world. The famines in India were particularly brutal, due in large part to the British colonial insistence that the market not be meddled with. It was difficult reading, and Davis is unflinching in his accounts of the famished, the diseased and the dying who are largely ignored or outright murdered by colonial officials.

The second section is both an intellectual history of ENSO studies, and also a rich and dense discussion of the phenomena itself. Davis points out that it was the embeddedness of especially British colonialism in tropical places that inspired the study of ENSO events in the first place, and that interpreting and understanding medium-term weather phenomena were of keen interest to major scientists and scholars in the 19th and 20th centuries–the discussions of Stanley Jevons were particularly inspired and fascinating, and especially his dogged belief in the impact of planetary alignment in determining grain prices (!)

The last section of the book takes a deep dive into the socio-ecological history of the three locales (India, China, and Brazil), with a focus on the political economy of these places in the wake of colonization. Each section is fine-grained, and looks at how labor, subsistence, trade, and ecology blended together in cementing the 3rd world in its place in the wake of ENSO famines. Spinning the histories of the three places, he locates their current status as “peripheries” of the Euro-American world as a function not of their tragic happenstance in a location of medium-range weather cycles, but as a deliberate choice to let their populations die, privatize (and extract) their resources, and privelege market ideology over human life and survival.

It is now more commonplace to see so-called natural disasters as a function of societal choices and priorities–last year, I read Paul Kelton’s “Epidemics and Enslavement” which makes a similar argument contra “virgin soil” theories of colonization. But as is so typical of him, Davis charted a course others would follow, and did so with an astonishing depth and detail that is almost peerless in social or historical research. I had a general outline in my head of late 19th century colonial history, but Davis turned that history inside out in a gruesome and almost prosecutorial fashion.

If you want to understand the role of Europe in underdeveloping what we used to call the 3rd world, you could do worse than starting with this book.

 

by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 11/14/21-11/20/21

This Week:

  • The Museum hosted “Enchanted Worlds: A Fiesta at the Yager Museum”. This event, created by students in the “Places of Learning” class, used the Mexican mask exhibit as inspiration for a program of crafts, food, music, and fun. It was a great time, and I’m very impressed at all the great work they did!
  • In MUST251, we talked about vernacular architecture (specifically tobacco barns in the Connecticut River Valley) and the tourist landscape of Cooperstown, NY.
by Quentin Lewis

Quentin's Weeknotes 11/7/21-11/13/21

This Week:

via GIPHY

 

  • I finished reading “Memento Mori” by Brian Hauser. It’s an epistolary (sort of) novel that riffs on the mythology of Robert W. Chambers “The King in Yellow”, a favorite of HP Lovecraft and the inspiration for the first season of True Detective.
  • This week in MUSt251, we talked about Maps as Material Culture, and cultural landscapes.The students also submitted their object biography drafts, and we sent them comments to help them revise.
  • For the last two weeks, one or the other of my kids has been quarantined for COVID-19 exposure. It’s been a rough and exhausting time, and I’m happy that my kids were ultimately not infected. I’m also frustrated and angry at my follow community-members, who continue to resist, flout, or complain about the most minimal of public health interventions (masks and vaccines) thus creating even more dramatic consequences for themselves and us.
  • I spent some time working on getting the panels in our mask exhibit fully translated into Spanish.