Morels and Sixguns
Over at the Gates of the Mountains blog, Anthony picks up on a Wall Street Journal story about the unregulated market for morel mushrooms in Montana. Anthony suggests that higher permit prices would lead to a more orderly, safe, and efficient market.
As a taxpayer, I'm always happy to raise fees on others, especially when they use public lands for profit. But it seems to me that in our society-wide quest for efficient markets, we have a habit of squeezing out the little guy. Collecting mushrooms is a pretty low-tech way for somebody who hasn't had the benefit of education or access to capital markets to still make a buck.
I agree regulation could make the market more orderly, safe, and efficient. But at the price of accessible? After all, there are few people who would move a five-person family into a tent for the summer, even for occasional revenues of $800 a day. Wouldn't higher permit prices mean that somebody with more capital would buy the permit and skim off the profits?
Anthony says the current situation sounds a little like the Wild West. I think that's OK. The Wild West stays in our national consciousness because the notion of making your way in emerging markets is so central to the American experience.
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As a taxpayer, I'm always happy to raise fees on others, especially when they use public lands for profit. But it seems to me that in our society-wide quest for efficient markets, we have a habit of squeezing out the little guy. Collecting mushrooms is a pretty low-tech way for somebody who hasn't had the benefit of education or access to capital markets to still make a buck.
I agree regulation could make the market more orderly, safe, and efficient. But at the price of accessible? After all, there are few people who would move a five-person family into a tent for the summer, even for occasional revenues of $800 a day. Wouldn't higher permit prices mean that somebody with more capital would buy the permit and skim off the profits?
Anthony says the current situation sounds a little like the Wild West. I think that's OK. The Wild West stays in our national consciousness because the notion of making your way in emerging markets is so central to the American experience.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
Grammatical correctness
In an article in this week's New Yorker, Louis Menand starts with a book review and ends with a wonderful meditation on "voice." What exactly is a writer's voice and how does it come about?
But the book review! I am stunned that Menand can use such a generous voice to describe such literary crimes. According to the review (and I must admit I have not read the book), a recent bestseller claims to be a call to arms for grammatical correctness -- but itself contains numerous grammatical errors.
I have long wanted to write a book that encourages people to communicate information quickly and effectively by getting them to turn off the internalized curmudgeon who always complains about their grammar. Such a book would probably be assailed by self-proclaimed paragons of grammatical correctness -- and I would respond that the approach has certainly worked for many of my students.
As Menand hints, however, sales figures for books on grammar have as much to do with attitude as value. Some people are upset that other people can't use grammar well -- and as today's politics proves, beating up on the other side is always more fun than trying to improve your ownself.
Join the discussion at
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But the book review! I am stunned that Menand can use such a generous voice to describe such literary crimes. According to the review (and I must admit I have not read the book), a recent bestseller claims to be a call to arms for grammatical correctness -- but itself contains numerous grammatical errors.
I have long wanted to write a book that encourages people to communicate information quickly and effectively by getting them to turn off the internalized curmudgeon who always complains about their grammar. Such a book would probably be assailed by self-proclaimed paragons of grammatical correctness -- and I would respond that the approach has certainly worked for many of my students.
As Menand hints, however, sales figures for books on grammar have as much to do with attitude as value. Some people are upset that other people can't use grammar well -- and as today's politics proves, beating up on the other side is always more fun than trying to improve your ownself.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
Literature of lawlessness
In Tim Gautreaux's extraordinary novel "The Clearing," two brothers go to a wilderness where they attempt to create civilization in the form of law enforcement, schools, churches, and jobs. That summary makes it sound like a novel of the Old West. But actually it's set in Louisiana in the 1920s.
"The Clearing" has drawn more comparisons to "Cold Mountain" or "Heart of Darkness" than "Shane." I don't want to dispute those comparisons. But I think this one shows the reason why literature of the Old West has such enduring power.
Most of us live lives fully entwined with police and fire departments, well-defined jobs, neighbors and friends, families that for better or worse keep tabs on us. We live, in other words, among fully-grown moral institutions. But the lack of those institutions would really test individual character -- and that's what we love to read about: tests of character.
The Old West has come to symbolize that: a place too far removed from police or military, insurance companies or welfare rolls -- a place where you have to fight rampaging Indians or greedy ranchers or natural disasters with your own mettle. Sure, that may not be exactly the way it happened. And sure, lots of hack writers have come to use sandstone buttes and cowboy hats as cheap shorthand. But only because the setup has such lasting power.
In addition to being a very well-written novel with beautiful descriptions and a strong sense of place, "The Clearing" does some extraordinary things. For one, the protagonist is a businessman-hero. He creates jobs, tries to balance efficiency and fair treatment of employees, and is genuinely fascinated by the details of his career (in this case, managing a lumber mill). That describes an awful lot of Americans -- though too few literary heroes.
For another, the book describes the wholesale clearcutting of an old-growth cypress forest -- what we today would consider an environmental catastrophe -- while still presenting its characters as acting with honor, as honor is defined in their world. While providing subtle hints that the world has evolved since then, Gautreaux so effectively paints the 1920s that we can admire his characters while they do things we would find abhorrent today.
Finally, the book has some very interesting theories about mental illness. I hesitate to use the word "theories" here, as that makes this sound like a pedantic book. It's not: it's full of gangsters, alligators, and other action-generating threats. But many of the characters are deeply scarred by their participation in World War I, and two of them independently follow similar routes away from madness. (One might have been coincidence. But two tells me Gautreaux wants us to learn something.)
Still, to me the most exciting part of the book was watching the brothers make decisions we rarely have to: How do you act when there's nobody there to tell you how to act? How do you stop a fight? Which violations of social order require the response of violence? Americans have been creatively (if not always justifiably) answering those questions for generations -- and because of that, I think, the questions continue to engage us deeply.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
"The Clearing" has drawn more comparisons to "Cold Mountain" or "Heart of Darkness" than "Shane." I don't want to dispute those comparisons. But I think this one shows the reason why literature of the Old West has such enduring power.
Most of us live lives fully entwined with police and fire departments, well-defined jobs, neighbors and friends, families that for better or worse keep tabs on us. We live, in other words, among fully-grown moral institutions. But the lack of those institutions would really test individual character -- and that's what we love to read about: tests of character.
The Old West has come to symbolize that: a place too far removed from police or military, insurance companies or welfare rolls -- a place where you have to fight rampaging Indians or greedy ranchers or natural disasters with your own mettle. Sure, that may not be exactly the way it happened. And sure, lots of hack writers have come to use sandstone buttes and cowboy hats as cheap shorthand. But only because the setup has such lasting power.
In addition to being a very well-written novel with beautiful descriptions and a strong sense of place, "The Clearing" does some extraordinary things. For one, the protagonist is a businessman-hero. He creates jobs, tries to balance efficiency and fair treatment of employees, and is genuinely fascinated by the details of his career (in this case, managing a lumber mill). That describes an awful lot of Americans -- though too few literary heroes.
For another, the book describes the wholesale clearcutting of an old-growth cypress forest -- what we today would consider an environmental catastrophe -- while still presenting its characters as acting with honor, as honor is defined in their world. While providing subtle hints that the world has evolved since then, Gautreaux so effectively paints the 1920s that we can admire his characters while they do things we would find abhorrent today.
Finally, the book has some very interesting theories about mental illness. I hesitate to use the word "theories" here, as that makes this sound like a pedantic book. It's not: it's full of gangsters, alligators, and other action-generating threats. But many of the characters are deeply scarred by their participation in World War I, and two of them independently follow similar routes away from madness. (One might have been coincidence. But two tells me Gautreaux wants us to learn something.)
Still, to me the most exciting part of the book was watching the brothers make decisions we rarely have to: How do you act when there's nobody there to tell you how to act? How do you stop a fight? Which violations of social order require the response of violence? Americans have been creatively (if not always justifiably) answering those questions for generations -- and because of that, I think, the questions continue to engage us deeply.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
Anecdote-driven essays
My latest Writers on the Range piece (available to subscribers here) is an example of an anecdote-driven essay, a format that's proved both fun to write and popular with readers.
It strings together a bunch of little anecdotes, little stories about everyday life. The key is that they all have to be tied to a theme, and the theme has to lead to an insight people care about (in this case, what it's like to live in a small town in the 21st century).
To write an anecdote-driven piece, you have to acquire a lot of anecdotes. The only way I know how to do that is to live in a place for a long time. My first ten years in Montana, I couldn't write pieces like this. I'd have the insight. And I'd try to write essays that got there through analysis. But they'd be really boring.
It's funny: in a sense I had to unlearn much of what I learned in school. Our education system prizes analysis. And sure enough, analytic skills will help you succeed in business, medicine, or research. But analysis and storytelling come from near-opposite mindsets. And often the best thing a writer can do is tell stories.
Join the discussion at
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It strings together a bunch of little anecdotes, little stories about everyday life. The key is that they all have to be tied to a theme, and the theme has to lead to an insight people care about (in this case, what it's like to live in a small town in the 21st century).
To write an anecdote-driven piece, you have to acquire a lot of anecdotes. The only way I know how to do that is to live in a place for a long time. My first ten years in Montana, I couldn't write pieces like this. I'd have the insight. And I'd try to write essays that got there through analysis. But they'd be really boring.
It's funny: in a sense I had to unlearn much of what I learned in school. Our education system prizes analysis. And sure enough, analytic skills will help you succeed in business, medicine, or research. But analysis and storytelling come from near-opposite mindsets. And often the best thing a writer can do is tell stories.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
You do know how to whistle, don't you?
"How do you like that brass whistle?"
"I'm not crazy about the flavor. But the sound carries well. Here, feel how heavy it is."
Certain conversations you can hear only at a dog herding competition, such as last month's Montana Stockdog Challenge in Red Lodge. In this case, two dog handlers were comparing their whistles, which can be made of stainless steel, plastic, ivory, or even sterling silver ("it's so soft, it makes a thick glob in your mouth").
Handlers use the whistles to direct their border collies, sending them right or left, on a short run or long, said Hope Hanson of Fromberg, an organizer of the event. Most train their dogs on voice commands, then convert to whistles because they carry better. "Also if you're stressed," Hanson adds, "it doesn't come through as much on a whistle."
I was there doing a story, and this tidbit probably won't make the final draft. But I just thought somebody needed to hear about it.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
"I'm not crazy about the flavor. But the sound carries well. Here, feel how heavy it is."
Certain conversations you can hear only at a dog herding competition, such as last month's Montana Stockdog Challenge in Red Lodge. In this case, two dog handlers were comparing their whistles, which can be made of stainless steel, plastic, ivory, or even sterling silver ("it's so soft, it makes a thick glob in your mouth").
Handlers use the whistles to direct their border collies, sending them right or left, on a short run or long, said Hope Hanson of Fromberg, an organizer of the event. Most train their dogs on voice commands, then convert to whistles because they carry better. "Also if you're stressed," Hanson adds, "it doesn't come through as much on a whistle."
I was there doing a story, and this tidbit probably won't make the final draft. But I just thought somebody needed to hear about it.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
Business literature
Over at billingsblog, David Crisp is planning to teach an introductory business course based on literature, and is looking for suggestions. I'm not sure this is a good idea -- students taking an introductory business course probably need to know how to write a business plan, not what some writer once thought about business -- but it does make for a fun exercise. Here are my thoughts:
Michael Lewis' "The New New Thing" is a captivating and relatively positive view of Silicon Valley. Compared to Tracy Kidder's classic "The Soul of a New Machine," I found Lewis a little too trendy, but students would probably prefer a little trendiness to a book (Kidder's) that was written before they were born.
Lots of books (including some Crisp has already thought of) cover corporate crime. Two of my favorites are Jonathan Harr's "A Civil Action" and James B. Stewart's "Den of Theives." But too much of this approach would be like teaching a course on relationships by reading "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"
Literary types refuse to acknowledge it, but there's a huge segment of the book market devoted to business. Whether it's advice, memoir, or management theory, these are the kinds of books that students in such courses may well grow up to read. One of the better recent ones -- and with a great local connection -- is David Stauffer's "D2D: Dinosaur to Dynamo."
Finally, the protagonist of Nicholson Baker's "The Mezzanine" is as happy a literary businessperson as I've ever come across.
Join the discussion at
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Michael Lewis' "The New New Thing" is a captivating and relatively positive view of Silicon Valley. Compared to Tracy Kidder's classic "The Soul of a New Machine," I found Lewis a little too trendy, but students would probably prefer a little trendiness to a book (Kidder's) that was written before they were born.
Lots of books (including some Crisp has already thought of) cover corporate crime. Two of my favorites are Jonathan Harr's "A Civil Action" and James B. Stewart's "Den of Theives." But too much of this approach would be like teaching a course on relationships by reading "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"
Literary types refuse to acknowledge it, but there's a huge segment of the book market devoted to business. Whether it's advice, memoir, or management theory, these are the kinds of books that students in such courses may well grow up to read. One of the better recent ones -- and with a great local connection -- is David Stauffer's "D2D: Dinosaur to Dynamo."
Finally, the protagonist of Nicholson Baker's "The Mezzanine" is as happy a literary businessperson as I've ever come across.
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
When the republic strays
Five years ago I wrote this article on the seeming disconnect between voters and powerful politicians in Montana and elsewhere. The new airport I mentioned in the article has, fortunately, vanished into thin air. But the debate on cyanide mining continues.
Voters said "no" to cyanide mining. Legislators refused to believe them. Now another referendum will try to undo the old one. Here the Missoulian tries to put a positive spin on it, but I find the whole process much more discouraging.
Here's a question, though. Canyon Resources Corporation has decided to bypass the legislature and completely self-fund the new attempt to override the cyanide ban. So will politicians be upset that their gravy train has been halted? Will that lead them to rediscover that they should support what their constituents support? Or has Canyon pavloved them into permanent submission?
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
Voters said "no" to cyanide mining. Legislators refused to believe them. Now another referendum will try to undo the old one. Here the Missoulian tries to put a positive spin on it, but I find the whole process much more discouraging.
Here's a question, though. Canyon Resources Corporation has decided to bypass the legislature and completely self-fund the new attempt to override the cyanide ban. So will politicians be upset that their gravy train has been halted? Will that lead them to rediscover that they should support what their constituents support? Or has Canyon pavloved them into permanent submission?
Join the discussion at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/johnclaytonoutreach/
