Performance stories
Storyteller Olivia Armstrong is entranced by fairy tales from Newfoundland
Clever Maids, Fearless Jacks and a Cat
Fairy Tales from a Living Oral Tradition
Anita Best, Martin Lovelace, Pauline Greenhill
Utah State University Press 2019
Pb, 325pp, $29.95/£21, illus, bib, notes, ind, ISBN
Clever Maids, Fearless Jacks and a Cat is a collection of 14 transcribed Märchen – tales of wonder and magic from Newfoundland, originally told by two local citizens, Alice Lannon and Philip Pius Power. It is presented as a “modest sequel” to the exhaustive Folktales of Newfoundland (1996).
Within the storytelling community there is a folk belief that the storyteller who told the story last is standing directly behind the current teller, creating an unbroken chain of flowing story. I am a performance storyteller myself, and the majority of my repertoire begins with tales from books, peppered with scattered fragments of remembered family tales; it is rewarding to be presented with stories with a sense of continual authenticity. How much this unbroken line of transmission actually exists we can never truly know, but here we are presented with stories that have been passed down through family or community lines. They were learned by Pius on board schooners, new stories being brought back each fishing season; or remembered and told by Alice in kitchens to soothe fractious children.
The tales have been accurately transcribed, giving us the pauses and asides of the tellers, capturing their idiosyncratic speech patterns, and giving a sense of the cadence and rhythmic quality of spoken word. Concise notes are an ideal starting point for anyone interested in storytelling, whether as a performer, folklorist or listener. A story can only ever really be told if there is someone to receive it; in the way these tales have been faithfully recorded, we are there with Alice and Pius, being entranced by them.
Within the tales we find the usual stock characters of princesses, giants, witches and heroes, enchanted realms of forests and cobwebbed castles – but we also find redolent details rooting them to a specific time and place. In “Jack Ships to the Cat”, when hero Jack is apprenticed to a captain, we learn of the reality of Newfoundland shipping life, albeit through a magical talking cat. The stories and characters often have a toughness and grit about them, charged with an air of salt seaspray and freezing fog.
Stories, although seemingly ephemeral, are living things. Storytellers have a “responsibility to maintain something that is too valuable to be lost”. These tales show that, the more a teller tells it, the richer a story becomes, smoothed by the shaping of each word, coated in the patina of retelling, created from a lifetime of memory and experience and protected within the teller as a pearl within the oyster. And these particular story pearls from tellers past are now given to us. ★★★★
this is certainly accurate, the Nazis’ propaganda machine was effective enough to give them an unbreakable grip on Germany with appalling consequences.
Similarly, he contests the idea that the Church was so successful in winning hearts and minds in mediaeval Europe, quoting complaints about the people’s lack of piety and poor church attendance. But one only has to see a cathedral to realise that, if the population were not convinced, they were compliant… which is arguably all the Church needed.
In political and commercial areas, Mercier provides statistics showing that mass media work mainly on those who are already convinced and that outlets like Fox News do not change public opinion as a whole.
Perhaps so; but they do keep their consumers comfortably isolated from other viewpoints. Executives at Coca-Cola might be surprised to learn that their $5 billion advertising budget to convince people that their carbonated, caffeinated, sweetened water is superior to rival products is basically unnecessary.
While Nigerian 419 email scams may net hundreds of millions a year, Mercier sees the fact that most of them fail as a sign that we are not at all gullible. And the reason that leaders like Trump, Johnson and Putin get elected is not because people actually believe what they say, it’s because people support them anyway. A sobering idea.
His contrarian stance means he has to go through some contortions to get everything to fit his thesis. This is a shame: the basic content on how we recognise what is true, and how we can be fooled, is pretty sound, and there is plenty of solid food for thought. With another angle, it would have been a far more convincing and informative read.
However, charging people £20 for a book telling them they are not gullible does look a lot like taking the mickey.
David Hambling
★★★
Republic of Lies American Conspiracy Theorists and their Surprising Rise to Power
Anna Merlan Arrow 2020 Pb, 275pp, £9.99, bib, ind, ISBN 9781787460201 There are few topics getting more attention than conspiracy theories right now. Due largely to Brexit and the election of Donald Trump, academics have had little choice but to document the neverending rash of individual conspiracy theories that have captivated society. A positive consequence of this is that bright minds are beginning to explore the factors that drive conspiracy theories as a class of ideas. Unfortunately, publishers have glutted the market with not so bright minds documenting the supposed rise of conspiracy beliefs; many of these provide little more than touristic observations and unevidenced conclusions detached from the latest scholarship. Anna Merlan’s Republic of Lies is different from – and much better than – its competitors in that it fuses solid first-hand journalism with both historical accounts and the everexpanding body of social science literature on the topic.
Merlan opens with her experiences on the Conspirasea cruise, a ship filled with conspiracy theorists, UFO enthusiasts and pseudoscience fanatics. Given that she was trapped on a boat with highly suspicious people, it’s little surprise that she was eventually identified as a journalist and accused by her fellow travellers of being a CIA agent. Encounters with conspiracy theorists follow her throughout the book as she talks to Trump supporters, InfoWars reporters and Pizzagate advocates.
Her interviews with a range of conspiracy theorists are entertaining enough on their own. But she goes much further by situating the modern conspiracy theorists she interviews within history; by tracing their specific conspiracy theories back to both their contemporary origins and their broader historical roots (including ancient Rome), she provides a view of conspiracy theorising that is much richer than can be found in other popular accounts.
While much of the journalism addressing conspiracy theories either ignores or misuses the emerging social science, Merlan situates her interviews within this growing body of scientific literature, in a way that is readable and informative, sometimes using her first-hand observations to challenge what some of the scholars have concluded about conspiracy theorists.
I disagree with where she places most of the blame for contemporary conspiracy theorising; I’m not convinced that social media, a “rigid class structure” or a “vanishing social safety net” are to blame for the current moment we find ourselves in. It’s not that her diagnosis is necessarily wrong, but rather that conspiracy theories are the product of complex social and political factors that sometimes elude even the best attempts at explanation.
Merlan’s writing is easy to follow and moves quickly through interviews, historical accounts and her own research. Even though I have been studying the topic myself for more than a decade, I found her work quite fresh and illuminating. Strongly recommended for anyone interested in gaining a deeper understanding of contemporary conspiracy theorising.
Joseph E Uscinski
★★★★★
The Truth about Fat
Anthony Warner Oneworld Publications 2020 Pb, 366pp, £9.99, ind, ISBN 9781786077264 Fat is a fortean issue. Reality TV has replaced FT’s beloved freak shows, yet attitudes towards obesity often remain voyeuristic, patronising and anachronistic. This book makes refreshing, humane and essential reading.
Anthony Warner – a biochemist who became “head development chef of one of the UK’s largest food manufacturers” – argues that much critical commentary about obesity comes “almost exclusively from affluent, privileged commenters”. Some have a political axe to grind or books, diets or supplements to promote. Forteans should bring their traditional scepticism to bear on experts making simplistic pronouncements about obesity and diet generally. The Truth About Fat offers a nuanced, well-informed, eloquent discussion of the biology underlying obesity. Fat isn’t inert blubber: it pumps out cocktails of hormones and other chemicals that control metabolism and food-seeking behaviour. This forms part of a complex and complicated network, which is partly genetically determined.
Nevertheless, nurture as well as nature contributes. Obesity is most common in areas of socioeconomic deprivation. Numerous mutually reinforcing factors make obtaining healthy balanced diet much more difficult for people enduring deprivation. As Warner notes, it’s easy to underestimate the way in which the stresses of poverty undermine choice, whether about drugs, violence or food.
So, what can we do? Stop explicit and implicit fat shaming for a start. Stop blaming the obese for their condition. Obesity is far more complex than a “simple” lack of will power, and weight loss isn’t easy. The challenge, Warner notes, is to help obese people, especially those suffering health problems, adopt “better behaviours in a realistic and sustainable way”. Tailored interventions should reflect each person’s needs, preferences, resources and lifestyle. Some need psychological support.
A few need surgery. Exercise should be made easier and less intimidating if you don’t have a fitness magazine physique. Others would benefit from better social conditions. Essentially, reducing inequality should reduce our waistlines.
Whether or not you agree with all Warner’s comments, everyone who wants to understand obesity or is worried about their weight should read this intelligent, insightful and humane book. Stories about “super obese” people will, no doubt, continue to grace the pages of FT, challenging our views of normality. Warner’s book reminds us that, for all their allure, the obese are people, not objects, who need sympathy and support rather than criticism and shaming.
Mark Greener
★★★★★