Sunday 11 October 2009

Superfreakonomics

I’d been toying with the idea of writing a post about the original ‘Freakonomics’ for some time now. Mainly on account of its very high score on our number one selection criterion: being good. Slagging off Moby Dick was a bit of fun, but an exception. Why should I tag books as‘overrated’, if I can prize many amazing, quirky, moving or smart ones instead?

The original Freakonomics was extremely good. It told us of the similarities between the McDonald’s franchises and organized crime syndicates (most petty drug dealers are the equivalent of burger flippers, making little money,  living with their moms). It also showed how first names tend to migrate from the rich to the middle classes to the poor, and what the economic cost is of having a black name. It revealed how teachers in the Chicago school system ‘cheated’ by teaching the test instead of the course. And above all: how this was very normal to anyone thinking with an economist’s hat on. Quite simply, the ‘No Child Left Behind’ programme had very strong inecntives to do so.

So why didn't I discuss the first book? Well, the main reason is the novelty factor. It was published in 2005. Not a problem in itself, I review books that are much older. The problem was somewhat different: it was and still is a massive hit. Anyone who is in the know, knows about it already. Covering it would make me look like some off brand late adopter, instead of the off brand treasure hunter/shelf digger I really am.

But then, the plot thickens.What a thrill to walk into my book grocer’s this week, to find the sequel: Superfreakonomics! True, the horrible title raised a sliver of a doubt, but a quick diagonal read convinced me. Things only got better. Back home, I discovered that Amazon had set the release data on October 20th. Which meant that if I read and reviewed it fast enough, I might have a bit of pre-Amazon exclusive on my hands.

Now, this prospect of an early review was nice, but quite unnecessary. Even without that extra incentive, I would have stayed up late and read until my eyes bled. Being as good as it gets was sufficient. Levitt and Dubner do not only have a knack for finding scientific research on those darkish research subjects that tickle the funny bone (prostitution, siblings competing for inheritance). They are also great story tellers, peppering analyses on huge data sets with very down-to-earth  narratives. From the first book, the parents come to mind who called their sons ‘Winner’ and ‘Loser’ (Lou to his colleagues) . There are plenty more of these funny anecotes in the sequel.The subjects include horse manure, drunk driving, kidney transplants, shark attacks, terrorism. Dubner and Levitt continue dismantling conventional wisdom (the aloofness of Kitty Genovese’s neighbours).

The book's appeal goes beyond these senstational stories, however. By far my favourite chapter is the one where they have a go at Al Gore and his unwieldy cult of guilt-and-restraint-advocates. A thorny issue, the authors take a clear and unpopular stand but manage to sound convincing and knowledgeable.

What shines through even more in this second book is a very refreshing brand of ‘moderate optimism’. No, people are no do-gooders who will take into account the interests of others just because that is the right thing to do. We cause harm, out of selfishness, out of ignorance or out of sheer habit. But progress is possible and very real. After all, we faced horrible diseases before (polio) and overcame. We've been overly dependent on finite natural resources before (whale oil!) and managed to find an alternative (crude oil). There is no room for complacency, but no need to get hysteric and doloristic either. Get the data, learn from past mistakes, keep a cool head and you can overcome nearly anything.

A ripping read.
P.S. One caveat, addressed to a specific segment of the population. If you are a real estate agent, prepare for more tar and feathers. In their first book, Dubner and Levitt revealed just how similar your behaviour is to that of some Ku Klux Klan members. This time around, they reveal how your services are in fact less valuable than those of a pimp. Still, things could be worse. You could be an Indian man.

Tuesday 6 October 2009

The Fall of Bunny










It finally hit the shelves, Nick Cave’s new novel ‘The Death of Bunny Munro’. The timing is spot on, grey skies ahead and gold in the leaves ripening. Why not celebrate the advent of fall with a dark tale? Enter drugs, lewdness, samples of skin moisturizer, death. I’m in the middle of it, savouring every dirty word. The jokes are priceless, but don’t be fooled. That is just Cave’s little trick to get your guard down, before he delivers his next grim blow.









In many ways, his latest brood reminds me of that other autumnal favourite: ‘The Secret History’ by Donna Tartt. Ah, if I could erase one book from my memory, just to get that maiden read back, this would be it. The plot revolves around the murder of one Edmund ‘Bunny’ Corcoran by the hands of his fellow Classics students. Thrilling enough in itself, what really sets it apart is the setting: a campus in the woods of Vermont, six choice students and their solitary mentor. Old money, blackmail, stupor, betrayal and remorse. Eros and Thanatos, as the Greeks call it. The cunt and the coffin, as Bunny Munro might put it.






Tartt is academic and Cave vulgar, but they both pull off the same stunt: announcing the death of their Bunny before you even met him. Making you care for him. Describing his world in absurd detail, making it seem even stranger than the deranged outcast protagonists. In other words: Stay inside. Read a book. That’s what autumns are for.

More soon!

I found the drawing of Cave on http://monaux.com/work/nick-cave/.
Tartt's was on http://woldhek.nl/images/drawings/1097-donna-tartt.jpg