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A Love Letter: in praise of the blog
This is my fourth “love letter”, it follows on from personal dedications to art, poetry and the writing of Agatha Christie. This one is the newest of my “loves” and also marks a celebration.
Yesterday marked the 5th birthday of the Thoughts From the Criminology Team blog. I’ve documented our history before, so don’t want to go over the same ground. However, it is worth mentioning that very soon we will have reached over 50,000 views across 129 countries. (Interesting fact, after the UK and the USA, our next biggest group of readers is based in Hong Kong). We’ve come a very long way from our first cautious forays into the blogsphere and today I want to celebrate the things that I love most about our blog.
First, it provides accountability, it means that even in the most difficult times when writers’ block hits, I have to write. It may not be my best writing, at times it is very loosely structured and when I look back I do wonder what was in my mind. Nevertheless, something was written, which means that something else can be written. It means my ideas are captured and can be explored further, combined with other ideas or even abandoned. Over time it has also enabled me to see what reoccurs enabling me to develop my academic and personal passions.
Second, it provides a refuge and solace for writers (and hopefully readers). This was most obvious during the first year of the Covid-19 pandemic when we were rapidly releasing entries, sometimes on a daily basis. In total in 2020, the blog published 222 separate entries containing 190,226 words. To put that into context, in an “ordinary” year, we generally manage around 90 entries a year. It is fair to say our bloggers have explored this unprecedented time in many different way. This place of refuge and solace has also been very apparent in entries centred on Black Lives Matter. Most recently in can be observed in entries around the recent UCU industrial action, see here, here, here. here and here.*
In August 2011, following soon after the police shooting of Mark Duggan, riots broke out in many of our inner cities. I desperately wanted to discuss what was happening with my colleagues and students, but alas it was peak summer and everyone was away. This brings me to my third point, the blog allows writers to respond quickly to events happening, both in the UK and globally, in a way that isn’t always possible in the classroom (timing, constraints of the timetable and curriculum). For instance, responses to the sexual allegations against Prince Andrew, the Windrush scandal, the murder of George Floyd, and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine to name but a few. It also allows us to take part in national and global initiatives such as Gypsy Roma Traveller History Month and Amplify Melanated Voices giving more space to those too often excluded.
Fourth, it allows writers to focus on issues that are very close to them. For instance, the Hillsborough and Grenfell disasters and Black history. These are extremely difficult to address in a single blog entry, hence they are discussed by a variety of different authors approaching them in diverse ways. What is more important than answers is the space to explore these issues, without censorship and with room for others to also contribute an alternative perspective.
Fifth, the blog provides a place to showcase student and graduate excellence outside of institutional paremeters. For example our now annual ‘First Week Activity‘ offers the opportunity for students to work together to create posters on very current issues. in 2020/21 the criminological issues discussed were Knife Crime, Policing Protest and Creating Covid Criminals and our students demonstrated their criminological knowledge and understanding to a very high standard. The blog also provide a space for our newest (or soon to be) graduates to write about their dissertations as well as students and graduates to write about the things that excite their criminological imagination.
Sixth, it provides space for debate, discussion and most importantly, disagreement. A beautiful example of this is the two entries focusing on policing and racism, here and here. Similarly, discussions around misogyny, femicide and the murders of Sarah Everard and so many other women, here, here and here. Only through thoughtful and empathetic dialogue and exposure to different standpoints can we hope to gain the holistic understanding so imperative to criminology.
Seventh, there are no rules around blog writing, only the constraints provided by the medium. Those that write for the blog are provided with very generic guidance to allow them to decide how best to explore their subject, maybe through a short essay, complete with references, maybe in the style of a news article with lots of images, or perhaps through poetry. The choice is down to the individual blogger and very little in the way of copy editing, beyond the occasional correction of typo goes on behind the scenes.
By now it should be clear that my love for the blog is strong and unwavering. From the smallest of ideas, the blog has grown into something beautiful and inspiring, beyond my imagination in 2017. It has attracted a wonderful collective of very different people coming from all different standpoints and perspectives. Equally important there is space for many more voices to contribute. For sure, there is plenty more we can do, to provide space for more subjects, more bloggers, more perspectives, more initiatives and we will keep striving to offer this. Nevertheless, I am incredibly proud to have played a part and to continue to be involved in this joint enterprise as partners in criminology. Our blog is definitely something worth celebrating and not just on its birthday. To my fellow bloggers, I raise a glass, may we never lose the desire to argue, debate, discuss and continue to learn from each other.
*It is worth noting that in discussions around what constituted Action Short of a Strike [ASOS], the Criminology Team decided that the blog was too important to each of us to consider abandoning it, even for a short period time while industrial action is ongoing.
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A Love Letter: in praise of Agatha Christie
For most of my life, I have been an avid reader of all types of books. As my family will confirm, from childhood, I was never without a book. As an adult, I have regularly selected coats with large pockets and bags purely on the basis that they can hold a book. As many students will attest, my answer to most academic questions is “read, read and read some more”. Despite the growth of the internet and other media, which as @drkukustr8talk has noted recently, diverts and subverts our attention and concentration, reading remains my first and truest love.
This, my third ‘Love Letter’, focuses on my favourite author, above all others, Agatha Christie. I have previously dedicated ‘Love Letters’ to poetry, and art. Both of these forms took a long time for me to develop my understanding of and my love for. This ‘Love Letter’ is slightly different.
I first discovered Christie’s novels when I was about 12, since then they have formed a regular backdrop to my life. They act as a comfort blanket when I am tired, stressed, sad or away from home. I have read and reread everything she wrote and know the stories inside and out. Despite my decades of adoration, it remains challenging to know exactly what it is that appeals to me so much about Christie’s novels.
Perhaps it is the symmetry, the fact that for Christie every crime has a solution. Conceivably, given my pacifist tendencies, it could be the absence of explicit violence within her books. Maybe it’s Christie use of stereotypical characters, who turn out to be anything but. You don’t have to look very far to find the oh-so suspicious foreigner, who turns out to be a caring father (Dr Jacob Tanois) or the shell-shocked former military man trained in violence, who metamorphosises into a rather lonely man, who suffers from epilepsy (Alexander Cust). In all these cases, and many others, Christie plays with the reader’s prejudices, whatever they might be, and with deft sleight of hand, reveals that bias as unfounded.
To be honest, until relatively recently, I did not think much about the above, reading Christie was so much part of my life, that I took it very much for granted. All that changed in 2017, when I spotted a ‘Call for Chapters’
It seemed too good an opportunity to miss, after all I had spent a lifetime reading Christie, not to mention more than a decade studying war and crime. After all, what did I have to lose? I submitted an abstract, with no real expectation that someone who had never studied fiction academically, would be accepted for the volume. After all, who would expect a criminologist to be interested in the fictional writing of a woman who had died over 40 years ago? What could criminology learn from the “golden age” of “whodunnit” fiction?
Much to my surprise the abstract was accepted and I was invited to contribute a chapter. The writing came surprisingly easy, one of very few pieces of writing that I have ever done without angst. Once I got over the hurdle of forcing myself to send my writing to strangers (thank you @manosdaskalou for the positive reassurance and gentle coercion!) , what followed was a thoroughly pleasant experience. From the guidance of the volume’s editors , Drs J. C. Bernthal and Rebecca Mills, to the support from many colleagues, not mention the patience of Michelle (Academic Librarian) who restrained from strangling me whilst trying to teach me the complexities of MLA. Each of these people gave me confidence that I had something different to say, that my thinking and writing was good enough.
Last week, my copy of the book arrived. It was very strange to see my chapter in print, complete with my name and a brief biography. Even more surreal was to read the editors’ introduction and to see my work described therein, with its contribution to the volume identified. I doubt many people will ever read my chapter, it is published in a very expensive academic book destined for academics and libraries. Nevertheless, I have left the tiniest of marks in academic literature and perhaps more importantly, publicly acknowledged my love for the writing of Agatha Christie.
The finished article:
Bowles, Paula, (2020), ‘Christie’s Wartime Hero: Peacetime Killer’ in Rebecca Mills and J. C. Bernthal, Agatha Christie Goes to War, (Abingdon: Routledge): 28-45
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A Love Letter: in praise of art
Some time ago, I wrote ‘A Love Letter: in praise of poetry‘, making the case as to why this literary form is important to understanding the lived experience. This time, I intend to do similar in relation to visual art.
Tomorrow, I’m plan to make my annual visit to the Koestler Arts’ Exhibition on show at London’s Southbank Centre. This year’s exhibition is entitled Another Me and is curated by the musician, Soweto Kinch. Previous exhibitions have been curated by Benjamin Zephaniah, Antony Gormley and prisoners’ families. Each of the exhibitions contain a diverse range of unique pieces, displaying the sheer range of artistic endeavours from sculpture, to pastels and from music to embroidery. This annual exhibition has an obvious link to criminology, all submissions are from incarcerated people. However, art, regardless of medium, has lots of interest to criminologists and many other scholars.
I have never formally studied art, my reactions and interpretations are entirely personal. I reason that the skills inherent in criminological critique and analysis are applicable, whatever the context or medium. The picture above shows 4 of my favourite pieces of art (there are many others). Each of these, in their own unique way, allow me to explore the world in which we all live. For me, each illustrate aspects of social (in)justice, social harms, institutional violence and the fight for human rights. You may dislike my choices. arguing that graffiti (Banksy) and photography (Mona Hatoum) have no place within art proper. You may disagree with my interpretation of these pieces, dismissing them as pure ephemera, forgotten as quickly as they are seen and that is the beauty of discourse.
Nonetheless, for me they capture the quintessential essence of criminology. It is a positive discipline, focused on what “ought” to be, rather than what is. To stand small, in front of Picasso’s (1937) enormous canvas Guernica allows for consideration of the sheer scale of destruction, inherent in mechanised warfare. Likewise, Banksy’s (2005) The Kissing Coppers provides an interesting juxtaposition of the upholders of the law behaving in such a way that their predecessors would have persecuted them. Each of the art pieces I have selected show that over time and space, the behaviours remain the same, the only change, the level of approbation applied from without.
Art galleries and museums can appear terrifying places, open only to a select few. Those that understand the rules of art, those who make the right noises, those that have the language to describe what they see. This is a fallacy, art belongs to all of us. If you don’t believe me, take a trip to the Southbank Centre very soon. It’s not scary, nobody will ask you questions, everyone is just there to see the art. Who knows you might just find something that calls out to you and helps to spark your criminological imagination. You’ll have to hurry though…closes 3 November, don’t miss out!
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A Love Letter: in praise of poetry
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans
(Max Ehrmann, 1927)
Last week marked International Poetry Day (21 March 2019, to be precise) and it seems only right to consider this form of narrative in more detail. When I was younger (so much younger than today)[i] poetry left me rather cold. Why read short, seemingly impenetrable bursts of language when you could read whole books? To me, it seemed as if poetry was simply lyrics that no-one had got around to putting music to.[ii] Looking back, this may have been the folly of youth, alternatively, I simply was unable at that time to see the value, the beauty of poetry, both written and spoken.
Poetry isn’t meant to be consumed whole, like fast food to be gobbled in between anything and everything else, fuel to get you through the day. Neither is it like googling facts, just enough to enable you to know what you need to know at that instant. Instead, it’s meant to be savoured, to stay with you; like many good things in life, it takes time to ponder and digest. In turn, it takes on its own distinct and entirely personal meaning. It offers the opportunity for all of us, individually, to reflect, ruminate and interpret, at our own pace, according to our own place in time and space. The extract which opens this entry comes from Desiderata which carries particular resonance for me and my academic journey. It may or may not do the same for you, but it’s worth having a look at the entirety of the text, just in case.
An obvious criminological place to start to explore poetry, was always a favourite. Long before I discovered criminology, I discovered the work of Oscar Wilde (1854-1900). Starting with his novels, it wasn’t long before I stumbled upon his Ballad of Reading Gaol. With its haunting refrain; ‘each man kills the thing he loves’ it is difficult not to captured by its innate melody, as well as the story of the murderous soldier. After studying criminology and spending time in prison (albeit not serving a sentence), the verses take on a different dimension. It is difficult not to be moved by his description of the horror of the prison, even more so, given his practical experience of surviving in this hostile and unforgiving environment:
With sudden shock the prison-clock
Smote on the shivering air,
And from all the gaol rose up a wail
Of impotent despair,
Like the sound that frightened marshes hear
From a leper in his lair
(Oscar Wilde, 1898)
On the surface, poets like the Greek, civil servant C. P. Cavafy (1863-1933) have nothing to say about my life, yet his words make my heart ache. Cavafy’s tale of a mystical and mythical journey to Ithaka which seems to me to represent my educational journey in ways that I am only just beginning to appreciate. Replace the mythical Ithaka, with my all too real experience of doctoral study and you get the picture.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich
(C. P Cavafy, 1910/1911)
Furthermore, The Satrapy appears to represent ambition, desire and above all, the necessity of educating oneself in order to become something more. To truly realise your humanity and not just your mere existence, is a constant struggle. Cavafy’s words offer encouragement and a recognition that individual struggle is a necessity for independence of thought.
Your soul seeks other things, weeps for other things;
the praise of the public and the Sophists,
the hard-won and inestimable Well Done;
the Agora, the Theater, and the Laurels
(C. P. Cavafy, 1911)
Poets like Maya Angelou celebrate gender and race (among many other aspects), identifying intersectionality and the struggles fought and won, and the struggles still ongoing. Despite historical and contemporaneous injustice, to be able to shout from the rooftops Still I Rise in answer to the questions she poses, is truly inspirational:
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
(Maya Angelou, 1978)
Likewise, Hollie McNish utilises her anger and frustration to powerful effect, targeting racism with the linguistic gymnastics and logic of Mathematics , demonstrating that immigration is one of the greatest things to happen in the UK. To really get the full force, you should watch the video!
Cos sometimes one that comes makes two
And sometimes one can add three more
And sometimes two times two is much much more
Than four
And most times immigrants bring more
Than minuses
(Hollie McNish, 2013).
To conclude, you have nothing to lose by immersing yourself in a bit of poetry, but everything to gain. The poets and poems above are just some of my favourites (what about Akala, Cooper Clarke, McGough, Plath, Tempest, Zephaniah, the list goes on) they may not be yours, but it doesn’t matter. Don’t rush it, read a little something and read it again. Let the words and imagery play around in your head. If it sings to you, try to remember the name and the poet, and you can return again and again. If it doesn’t sing to you, don’t lose hope, choose another poet and give their work a chance to inveigle its way into your life. I promise you, it will be worth it
Selected Bibliography
Angelou, Maya, (1978/1999), And Still I Rise, (8th ed.), (London: Virago Press)
Cavafy, C. P., (2010), Collected Poems, tr. from the Greek by Daniel Mendelsohn, (New York: Alfred A. Knopf)
Lennon, John and McCartney, Paul, (1965) Help!, [CD], Recorded by The Beatles in Help!. Parlophone, [s.l.], Apple
Wilde, Oscar, (1898), The Ballad of Reading Gaol by C. 3. 3., (London: Leonard Smithers)
[i] Lennon and McCartney, (1965).
[ii] Not always the case, as can be seen by the Arctic Monkey’s (2013) musical rendering of John Cooper Clarke’s I Wanna Be Yours
Thoughts from the criminology team 