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These on writing stephen king pdf ita are useful, but beyond these the is now high in the sky; the moon, declining in the west, is more than ever like a silver. Never bored to boost your expertise by checking out book. Now, we provide you an exceptional reading e-book entitled Dime Store Alchemy Pdf Ita Yvonne Koch ceed coupe manual, pelagie la charrette roman, a moonless starless sky. sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in . it was never possible nowadays to pin down any date within a year or two.

Or whatever. Fiske argues, as does Paul Willis from a slightly different perspective also discussed in Chapter 10 , that popular culture is what people make from the products of the culture industries — mass culture is the repertoire, popular culture is what people actively make from it, actually do with the commodities and commodified practices they consume. I lingered near the door, looking at the paintings while trying to hear what was going on outside. He lifted the necklace from the case and handed it to the shopkeeper. I couldnt stop a facetious smile from spreading across my lips. Her forehead barely reached my chin, but her perfect posture and regulation three-inch heels made her seem much taller.

We stood looking helplessly at each other for a second, trying to make sense out of what we had just seen. Well, maybe our neighborhoods under the surveillance of a special undercover SWAT team, Georgia said. You know, Catherine Deneuve lives right down the street. Yeah, right, like Catherine Deneuve has her own hot-guy SWAT team trolling the neighborhood for celebrity stalkers with swords. Unable to contain ourselves, we burst out laughing. We should not be laughing. This is serious!

Georgia giggled, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. I know, I sniffed, composing myself. Down by the river the girl and her savior had vanished, and the fighting sounded farther away. See, its over anyway, Georgia said. Its too late to do anything even if we wanted to. We turned toward the crosswalk just as two figures sprinted up the stairs behind us. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw them approaching at full-speed and grabbed Georgias arm to pull her out of the way.

They ran past, missing us by mere inchestwo huge men dressed in dark clothes with caps pulled down low A glint of metal flashed from beneath one of their long dusters.

Leaping into a car, they started the engine with a roar. But before they drove off, they pulled up beside my sister and me and slowed to a snails pace.

I could feel them staring at us through the darkened windows. Whatcha looking at? Georgia yelled, and they peeled off down the road. We stood there for a moment, stunned. The crosswalk light turned green, and Georgia hooked her arm through mine as we stepped out into the street.

Weird night, she said finally, breaking our silence. Understatement of the year, I replied. Should we tell Mamie and Papy about it? Georgia laughed. And spoil Papys Paris is safe delusion? Theyd never let us out of the house again.

There had been nothing about what we had seen on the news. But Georgia and I couldnt let it go that easily. We discussed it more than a few times, although we got no closer to understanding what had taken place. Although I continued to do all my reading at the Caf SainteLucie, I hadnt seen the mysterious group of gorgeous guys again. After a couple of weeks, I knew all the waiters as well as the owners, and many of the regular clients became familiar faces: Little old ladies with their teacup Yorkshire terriers, which they carried around in their handbags and fed from their plates.

Businessmen Couples of all ages holding hands under the tables. One Saturday afternoon I was squeezed into my regular table in the terraces far left corner, reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Although this was my third time through it, some passages still brought tears to my eyes. As one was doing now.

I used my dig-fingernails-into-palm trick, which, if it hurt enough, could keep me from crying in public. Unfortunately, today it wasnt working. I could tell my eyes were getting red and glassy. This is all I needto cry in front of my regular caf crowd just as Im getting to know them, I thought, peering up to see if anyone had noticed me.

And there he was. Sitting a few tables away, watching me as intensely as he had the first time. It was the boy with the black hair. The scene from the river, with him leaping off a bridge to save someones life, felt like it had been nothing but a surreal dream. Here he was, in broad daylight, drinking coffee with one of his friends.

I almost said it out loud. Why did I have to get all teary about a book while this too-cute-to-be-true French guy was staring at me from a mere ten feet away?

I snapped my book closed and laid some money on the table. But just as I started toward the exit, the elderly women at the table next to mine stood and began fiddling with their massive pile of shopping bags. I fidgeted impatiently until finally one of them turned around. So sorry, dear, but well be another minute.

Just go around us. And she practically shoved me toward where the guys were sitting. I had hardly gotten a step beyond their table when I heard a low voice coming from behind me. Arent you forgetting something?

I turned to see the boy standing inches away from me. He was even more handsome than he had seemed from afar, though his looks were sharpened by that same flinty coldness I had noticed the first time I had seen him. I ignored the sudden jolt in my chest. Your bag, he said, holding my book bag out toward me, balancing the strap on two fingers. Um, I said, thrown off by his proximity. Then, seeing his wry expression, I pulled myself together.

He thinks Im a total idiot for leaving my bag behind. How kind of you, I said stiffly, reaching for the bag, as I tried to salvage any remaining scrap of confidence left in me. He pulled his arm back, leaving me grasping air. Why be angry at me? Its not like I swiped it. No, of course not, I huffed, waiting. He didnt let go. How about an exchange? Ill give you the bag if you tell me your name. I gawped at him, incredulous, and then gave the bag a hard tugjust as he let go.

Its contents spilled in a heap across the sidewalk. I shook my head in disbelief. Thanks a lot! As gracefully as I could, I got down on my knees and began cramming my lipstick, mascara, wallet, phone, and what seemed like a million pens and tiny scraps of paper into my bag. I looked back up to see him inspecting my book. To Kill a Mockingbird. En anglais! And then, in slightly accented but perfect English, he said, Great bookhave you ever seen the film My mouth fell open.

I managed to utter. He raised his other hand and showed me my drivers license, which featured an exceptionally bad head shot. By this point my humiliation was so great that I couldnt even look him in the eyes, although I felt his gaze burning into me. Listen, he said, leaning closer. Im really sorry. I didnt mean to make you drop your bag. Stop flaunting your impeccable language skills, Vincent, help the girl to her feet, and let her take her leave, came another voice in French.

I turned to see my tormentors friendthe guy with the curly hairholding out my hairbrush, with an expression of mild amusement creasing his razor-stubbled face. Ignoring the hand Vincent was extending to help me up, I staggered to my feet and brushed myself off. Here you go, he said, handing me my book. I took it with an embarrassed nod. Thanks, I replied curtly, trying not to run as I made the quickest possible exit out of the caf and onto the street.

As I waited for the crosswalk light to change, I made the mistake of glancing back. Both of the boys were staring my way. Vincents friend said something to him and shook his head. I cant even imagine what theyre saying about me, I thought, and groaned. Turning as red as the stoplight, I crossed the street without looking their way again. For the next few days I saw Vincents face everywhere. In the corner grocery store, coming up the steps from the Mtro, sitting at every caf terrace I passed.

Of course, when I got a better look at each of these guys, it was never actually him. Much to my annoyance, I couldnt stop thinking about him, and even more annoyingly, my feelings were equally divided between selfprotective cautiousness and unabashed crush. To be honest, I wasnt ungrateful for the diversion. For once I had something else to think about besides fatal car crashes and what the hell I was going to do for the rest of my life.

Id thought I had it pretty much figured out before the accident, but now my future stretched before me like a mile-long question mark. It struck me that my fixation on this mystery guy might just be my minds way of giving me a breather from my confusion and grief.

And I finally decided, if that were the case, I didnt mind. Almost a week had passed since my standoff with Vincent at the Caf Sainte-Lucie, and though I had made my reading sessions there a daily habit, I hadnt seen a trace of him or his friends.

I was ensconced in what I now considered my private corner table, finishing off yet another Wharton novel from the school syllabus my future English teacher was obviously a big fan , when I noticed a couple of teenagers sitting across the terrace from me. The girl had short-cropped blond hair and a shy laugh, and the natural way she kept leaning in toward the boy next to her made me think they were a couple.

But upon turning my scrutiny to him, I realized how similar their features were, though his hair was golden red.

They had to be brother and sister. And once that idea popped into my mind, I knew I was right. The girl suddenly held up her hand to stop her brother from talking and began scanning the terrace, as if searching for someone.

Her eyes settled on me. For a second she hesitated, and then waved urgently at me. I pointed to myself with a questioning look. She nodded and then gestured, beckoning me to come over. Wondering what she could possibly want, I stood and slowly made my way toward their table.

She rose to her feet, alarmed, and motioned for me to hurry. Just as I left my safe little nook against the wall and stepped around my table, a huge crash came from behind me, and I was knocked flat onto the ground. I could feel my knee stinging and lifted my head to see blood on the ground beneath my face. Mon Dieu! Tears of shock and pain welled in my eyes. He ripped a towel from his waist apron and dabbed my face with it.

You just have a little cut on your eyebrow. Dont worry. I looked down at my burning leg and saw that my jeans had been torn open and my knee completely skinned.

As I checked myself over for injuries, it dawned on me that the terrace had gone completely silent. But instead of focusing on me, the astonished faces of the caf-goers were looking behind me. The waiter stopped swabbing my eyebrow to glance over my shoulder, and his eyes widened in alarm. Following his gaze, I saw that my table had been demolished by a huge piece of carved masonry that had fallen from the buildings facade.

My purse was lying to one side, but my copy of House of Mirth stuck out from where it was pinned under the enormous stone, exactly where I had been sitting. If I hadnt moved, I would be dead, I thought, and my heart raced so fast that my chest hurt.

I turned back to the table where the brother and sister had been sitting. Except for a bottle of Perrier and two full glasses sitting in the middle of a handful of change, it was empty. My saviors were gone. Finally, after allowing the caf staff to use half their firstaid kit on me, I insisted that I could make it home on my own and wobbled back, my legs feeling like rubber bands. Mamie was coming out the front door as I arrived.

Oh, my dear Katya! Then, scooping up our things and leading me back into the house, she tucked me into bed and insisted on treating me like I was a quadriplegic instead of her slightly scraped-up granddaughter. Now, Katya, are you sure youre comfortable? I can bring you more pillows if you want. Mamie, Im fine, really. Does your knee still hurt? I can put something else on it.

Maybe it should be elevated. Mamie, they treated it with a million things from their firstaid box at the caf. Its just a scrape, really. Oh, my darling child. To think what could have happened. She pressed my head to her chest and petted my hair until something in me broke and I started crying. Mamie cooed and held me while I bawled. Im just crying because Im shaky, I protested through my tears, but the truth was that she was treating me just like my mom would have.

When Georgia got home, I heard Mamie telling her about my near-death experience. My door opened a minute later, and my sister raced in looking as white as a ghost. She sat silently on the edge of my bed, staring at me with wide eyes. Its okay, Georgia. Im just a little scraped up. Oh my God, Katie-Bean, if anything had happened to you You are all I have left.

Remember that. Im fine. And nothings going to happen to me. Ill keep far away from disintegrating buildings from now on.

She forced a smile and reached out her hand to touch my own, but the haunted look stayed. The next day Mamie refused to let me leave the house, insisting that I relax and recover from my injuries. I obeyed, to humor her, and spent half the evening reading in the bathtub. It wasnt until I had lost myself in the warm water and a book that my nerves got the best of me, and I sat there trembling like a leaf.

I hadnt realized how scared the near miss with the crumbling building had left me until it took topping the tub up several times with scalding hot water to calm me down. Ultimately, I When I passed the caf the next day, it was closed, and the sidewalk outside the building was roped off with yellow plastic police tape. Workers in electric blue overalls were erecting scaffolding for builders to come stabilize the facade. I would have to find another location for my al fresco reading.

I felt a pang of disappointment as I realized that this was the only place that I had a chance of seeing my recent obsession. Who knew how long it would be before I ran into Vincent again? My mother began taking me to museums when I was a tiny child. When we went to Paris, she and Mamie and I would set off in the morning for a little taste of beauty, as my mother called it. Georgia, who was bored by the time we reached the first painting, usually opted to stay behind with my father and grandfather, who sat in cafs and chatted with friends, business associates, and whoever else happened to wander by.

But together, Mamie, Mom, and I combed the museums and galleries of Paris. So it was no great shock when Georgia gave me a vague excuse of previous plans when I asked her to come museum trolling with me a few days later. Georgia, youve been complaining that I never do anything with you. This is a valid invite! Yeah, about as valid as me inviting you to a monster truck rally.

Ask again if you plan on doing something actually interesting. To show her goodwill, she gave my arm a friendly squeeze before shutting her bedroom door in my face.

I set off alone to Le Marais, a neighborhood across town from my grandparents home. Weaving my way through its tiny medieval streets, I finally arrived at my destination: Besides the alternate universe offered by a book, the quiet space of a museum was my favorite place to go.

My mom said I was an escapist at heart Its true that Ive always been able to yank myself out of this world and plunge myself into another. And I felt ready for a calming session of art-hypnosis. As I walked through the gigantic doors of the Muse Picasso into its sterile white rooms, I felt my heart rate slow. I let the warmth and peace of the place cover me like a soft blanket. And as was my habit, I walked until I found the first painting that really grabbed my attention, and sat down on a bench to face it.

I let the colors absorb into my skin. The compositions convoluted, twisted shapes reminded me of how I felt inside, and my breathing slowed as I began zoning out.

The other paintings in the room, the guard standing near the door, the fresh-paint smell in the air around me, even the passing tourists, faded into a gray background surrounding this one square of color and light. I dont know how long I sat there before my mind slowly emerged from its self-imposed trance, and I heard low voices coming from behind me. Come over here. Just look at the colors. Long pause. What colors? Its just as I told you.

He goes from the bright, bold What a show-off! Pablo always had to be the best at everything he put his hand to, and as I was saying to Gaspard the other day, what really ticks me off is I turned, curious to see the origin of this fountain of knowledge, and froze.

Standing just fifteen feet away from me was Vincents curly-haired friend. Now that I saw him straight on, I was struck by how attractive he was.

Die for Me by Amy Plum

There was something rugged about himunkempt, scruffy hair, bristly razor stubble, and large rough hands that gesticulated passionately toward the painting. By the condition of his clothes, which were smudged with paint, I guessed he might be an artist. That came to me in a split second. Because after that, all I could see was the person standing with him.

The raven-haired boy. The boy who had taken up permanent residence in the dark corners of my mind since the first moment I saw him. Why do you have to fall for the most improbable, inaccessible boy in Paris? He was too beautifuland too aloofto ever really notice me. I tore my gaze away, leaned forward, and rested my forehead in my hands.

It didnt do any good. Vincents image was burned indelibly into my mind. I realized that whatever it was about him that made him seem a bit cold, almost dangerous, actually heightened my interest instead of scaring me off. What was wrong with me? I had never gone for bad boys beforethat was Georgias specialty!

My But I didnt have the chance to put myself to the test. When I raised my head, they were gone. I walked quickly to the entrance of the next room and peered in. It was empty.

And then I just about jumped out of my skin as a low voice from behind me said, Hi, Kate. Vincent loomed over me, his face a good six inches above mine. My hand flew to my chest in alarm. Thanks for the heart attack! I gasped. So is this a habit of yours, leaving your bag behind in order to strike up a conversation? He grinned and nodded at the bench where I had been sitting.

Lying beneath it was my book bag. Wouldnt it be easier to just walk up to a guy and say hello?

The slight trace of mockery in his voice evaporated my nervousness. It was replaced by a fiery indignation that surprised us both. Hello, I growled, my throat tight with fury. Marching over to the bench, I picked up my bag and stalked out of the room. I didnt mean it like that. What I meant I came to a stop and stared at him, waiting. Im sorry, he said, exhaling deeply. Ive never been known for my sparkling conversation.

Then why even make the effort? I challenged. YoureI dont knowamusing. I pronounced each syllable slowly and shot him My clenched fists rose automatically to rest on my hips.

So, Vincent, did you come over with the express purpose of offending me, or is there something else you want? Vincent put his palm to his forehead. Listen, Im sorry. Im an idiot. Can we Start what over from scratch? I asked doubtfully. He hesitated for a second and then held out his hand. Im Vincent. I felt my eyes narrow as I weighed his sincerity. I gripped his hand in mine, shaking it a bit rougher than I meant to.

Im Kate. Nice to meet you, Kate, Vincent said, bemused. There was a four-second silence, during which I continued to glare at him. Do you come here often? I couldnt help but burst out laughing. He smiled, obviously relieved. Um, yes, actually. Ive kind of got a thing for museums, not just for Picasso. A thing? Vincents English was so good that it was easy to forget it wasnt his first language.

It means I like museums. A lot, I explained. Got it. You like museums but not Picasso in particular. I smiled at him, mentally giving him points for trying so hard. Whered your friend go? He took off. Jules doesnt really like to meet new people. So, are you British? American, I responded.

And the girl Ive seen you around the neighborhood with would be your Sister, I said slowly. Have you been spying on me?

Two cute girls move to the areawhat am I supposed to do? A wave of delight rippled through my body at his words. So he thought I was cute.

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But he also thought Georgia was cute, I reminded myself. The wave disappeared. Hey, the museum caf has an espresso machine.

Want to get some coffee while you tell me what other things youve got a thing for? He touched me on the arm. The wave was officially back. We sat at a tiny table in front of steaming cappuccinos. So, now that Ive revealed my name and nationality to a complete stranger, what else do you want to know?

I asked, stirring the foam into my coffee. Oh, I dont know I laughed. Um, shoe size ten, Breakfast at Tiffanys, absolutely no athletic ability whatsoever, and way too many embarrassing moments to list before the museum closes. Thats it? Thats all I get? I felt my defensiveness melting away at this surprisingly charming and decidedly not-dangerous side of him.

With Vincents encouragement I told him about my old life in Brooklyn, with Georgia and my parents. Of our summers in Paris, of my friends back home, with whom I had, by now, lost all contact. Of my boundless love for art, and my despair at discovering I possessed absolutely no talent for creating it. He prodded me for more information, and I filled in the blanks for him on bands, food, film, books, and everything else under the sun. And unlike most boys my age I had known back home, he seemed genuinely interested in every detail.

What I didnt tell him was that my parents were dead.

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I referred to them in the present tense and said that my sister and I had moved in with our grandparents to study in France. It wasnt a total lie. But I didnt feel like telling him the whole truth. I didnt want his pity. I wanted to seem like just any other normal girl who hadnt spent the last seven months isolating herself in an inner world of grief. His rapid-fire questions made it impossible for me to ask him anything in return.

So when we finally left I reproached him for it. Okay, now I feel completely exposedyou know pretty much everything about me and I know nothing about you. Aha, that is part of my nefarious plan. He smiled, as the museum guard locked the doors behind us. How else could I expect you to say yes to meeting up again if I laid everything out on the table the first time we talked?

This isnt the first time we talked, I corrected him, trying to coolly ignore the fact that he seemed to be asking me out. Okay, the first time we talked without my unintentionally insulting you, he revised. We walked across the museums garden toward the reflecting pools, where screaming children were celebrating the fact that it was still hot and sunny at six p. Vincent walked slightly hunched over with his hands in his pockets. For the first time I sensed in him a tiny hint of vulnerability.

I took advantage of it. I dont even know how old you are. Nineteen, he said. What do you do? Because your friend said something about your being in the police force. I couldnt help the trace of sarcasm in my voice. My sister and I saw you rescue that girl. Vincent stared at me blankly. The girl who jumped off the Carrousel Bridge during that gang fight. Your friend escorted us away and told us it was a police procedure.

Oh, he did? Vincent muttered, his expression assuming the hardened look itd had the first time I met him. He thrust his hands back into his pockets and continued walking. We were getting closer to the Mtro stop. I slowed my pace to buy a little more time. So what are you guys, undercover cops? I didnt believe it for a second, but tried to sound sincere. His sudden change in mood had intrigued me. Something like that.

What, kind of like a SWAT team? He didnt respond. That was really brave, by the way, I insisted. Your diving into the river. What did the girl have to do with the gang fighting under the bridge, anyhow? I asked, digging further.

Um, Im not supposed to talk about it, Vincent said, studying the concrete a few inches in front of his feet. Oh yeah.

Of course, I said lightly. You just look really young to be a cop. I couldnt stop a facetious smile from spreading across my lips. I told you Im a student, he said, giving me an uncertain grin. He could tell I didnt buy it. I didnt see anything. I didnt hear anything, I said dramatically. Vincent laughed, his good mood returning. Kate, what are you doing this weekend? Do you want to do something?

I nodded, since I couldnt speak. Taking my silence as hesitation, he added quickly, Not like a formal date or anything. Just hanging out. We can Wander around the Marais. I nodded again, and then managed to get out, That would be great. Okay, how about Saturday afternoon? In public. He held up his hands as if showing he wasnt hiding anything. As soon as it was out of my mouth I realized that I was afraid. Just a little bit. I wondered once more if that was his pull on me. Maybe my parents deaths had left me with a lack of self-preservation and it was the hint of danger that I was going for.

Or maybe I was attracted to the vague aura of untouchable aloofness that he exuded. Maybe all he was to me was a challenge. Whatever the reason, it was effective. I really liked this guy. And I wanted to see him again. Night, day, I didnt care. Id be there. He lifted an eyebrow and chuckled. Not afraid of me. I couldnt help myself from laughing along.

Nodding the other direction down the boulevard, he said, Jules is probably waiting for me. See you Saturday. Meet you outside the rue du Bac Mtro station at three? Saturday, three oclock, I confirmed as he turned and walked away. I dont think it would be exaggerating much to say that my feet didnt touch the ground the whole way home.

My heart caught in my throat as I wondered not for the first time why this too-gorgeous-to-be-true guy had any interest whatsoever in plain old. My insecurity crumbled when I saw his face light up as I approached. You came, he said as he leaned in to give me the bises, those double-cheeked air-kisses that Europeans are famous for.

Though I shivered when his skin touched mine, my cheeks were warm for a good five minutes afterward. Of course, I said, drawing on every drop of my cool and confident reserve, since, to tell the truth, I was feeling a bit nervous.

So, where are we off to? We began walking down the steps to the subway tracks. Have you been to the Village Saint-Paul?

I shook my head. Doesnt ring a bell. Perfect, he said, seeming pleased with himself but giving no further explanation. We barely talked on the train, but it wasnt for lack of conversation. I dont know if it is just a cultural thing, or because the trains themselves are so quiet, but as soon as people step into the car from the platform they shut up. Vincent and I stood facing each other, holding on to the central steel pole for balance, and checked out the other passengers, who were busy checking us out.

Have I mentioned that checking people out is the French national pastime? As we turned a corner and the train jerked to one side, he put an arm around my shoulders to steady me. We havent even gotten there and youre already making a move?

Of course not. Im a gentleman through and through, he responded in a quiet voice. I would throw my coat over a puddle for you any day. Im no damsel in distress, I retorted as the train pulled to a stop. Whewwell, thats a good thing, he said, breathing a fake sigh of relief. How about opening the door for me, then? I grinned as I flipped up the metal door-release lever and stepped onto the platform. We emerged from the Saint-Paul stop directly in front of the massive classical church called the glise Saint-Paul.

I used to come here when I was a kid, I said to Vincent as I peered up at the decorative facade. When I came to visit my grandparents during the summer, there was a girl I used to play with who lived just there. I pointed to a building a few doors away.

Her dad told us that this street was used for jousts in the Middle Ages. Sandrine and I used to sit on the church steps and pretend we were in the middle of a medieval tournament. I closed my eyes and I was back, ten years ago, reliving the sounds and colors of our imaginary tourney. You know, I always thought that if the centuries and centuries of Pariss ghosts could materialize all at once, you would find yourself surrounded by the most fascinating people.

I stopped, suddenly embarrassed that I was spouting off to this guy I barely knew with details about one of my several dreamworlds. Vincent smiled. If I were riding to the challenge, would you give me your favor to display on my arm, fair lady?

I pretended to dig through my bag. I cant seem to find my lace kerchief. How about a Kleenex? Laughing, Vincent threw an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tightly. Youre amazing, he said. Thats a definite step up from amusing, I reminded him, unable to prevent my cheeks from reddening with pleasure. We headed to a side road leading down toward the river. Halfway there, Vincent stepped through the large wooden doorway of a four-story building, pulling me behind him.

Like many Parisian apartment blocks, this one had been constructed around an internal courtyard sheltered from the street. The most modest courtyards are barely as big as a king-size bed, Others are large, some even having trees and benches, forming a quiet haven for residents away from the busy street.

This courtyard was massive and had little shops, and even an outdoor caf, scattered among the ground-floor apartments, something I had never seen before. What is this place? Vincent smiled and touched my arm, pointing to another open doorway on the far side of the courtyard. This is just the beginning, he said. There are about five of these courtyards all linked together off the street, so you can wander for as long as you want without seeing or hearing the outside world. Its all art galleries and antique shops.

I thought youd like it. Like it? I love it! This is incredible! I said. I cant believe I havent been here before. Its off the beaten path. Vincent seemed proud of his knowledge of Pariss out-of-the-way spots. And I was just happy that he wanted me along to explore them with him. Ill say, I agreed.

Its almost completely hidden from the outside. Where do we start? We strolled through stores and galleries packed with everything from old posters to ancient Buddha heads. For a city heaving with summer tourists, the shops had surprisingly few visitors, and we wandered through the spaces as if they were our own private treasure troves. As we browsed through an antique clothes store, Vincent stopped in front of a glass case that held jewelry.

Hey, Kate, maybe you can help me. I need to get a gift for someone. Sure, I said, peering into the case as the shopkeeper lifted the cover for us. I fingered a pretty silver ring with a cluster of flowers curving outward from its surface. What would someone your age like?

My age? Im only three years younger than you. Maybe less, depending on your birthday. June, he said. Okay, then two and a half.

He laughed. All right, you got me there. Its just that Im not sure what shed like. And her birthdays coming up. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. What an idiot I had been: He obviously just saw me as a friend Hmm, I said, closing my eyes and trying to hide my dismay. I forced them back open and stared at the case. I guess it depends on her taste. Does she wear more feminine, flowery clothes, or is she more into Definitely not flowery, he said, stifling a laugh.

Well, I think this is really pretty, I said, pointing to a leather cord with a single teardrop-shaped silver pendant hanging from it.

My voice wavered as I tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow the lump in my throat. Vincent leaned closer to the piece. I think youre right. Its perfect. Youre a genius, Kate. He lifted the necklace from the case and handed it to the shopkeeper. Im just going to wait for you outside, I said, and left as he fished through his pockets for his wallet. Get a grip, I chided myself.

It had seemed too good to be true, and it had been. He was only a really friendly guy. Who said I was cute. But who must just like to hang out with cute girls while buying vintage jewelry for his girlfriend. I wonder what she looks like. My hands were clenched so tightly that my fingernails dug little trenches into my palms. No matter how much we might insist on this definition, the fact remains that people do not spontaneously produce culture from raw materials of their own making.

Whatever popular culture is, what is certain is that its raw materials are those which are commercially provided. Critical analysis of pop and rock music is particularly replete with this kind of analysis of popular culture. At a con- ference I once attended, a contribution from the floor suggested that Levi jeans would never be able to use a song from The Jam to sell its products.

The fact that they had already used a song by The Clash would not shake this conviction. As this was not going to happen, Levi jeans would never use a song by The Jam to sell its products. But this had already happened to The Clash, a band with equally sound political credentials. This circular exchange stalled to a stop. The cultural studies use of the concept of hegemony would have, at the very least, fuelled further discussion see Chapter 4. A fifth definition of popular culture, then, is one that draws on the political ana- lysis of the Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci, particularly on his development of the concept of hegemony.

This will be dis- cussed in some detail in Chapter 4. The process is historical labelled popular culture one moment, and another kind of culture the next , but it is also synchronic moving between resistance and incorporation at any given historical moment.

For instance, the seaside holiday began as an aristocratic event and within a hundred years it had become an example of popular culture. Film noir started as despised popular cinema and within thirty years had become art cinema.

In general terms, those looking at popular culture from the perspective of hegemony theory tend to see it as a terrain of ideological struggle between dominant and subordinate classes, dominant and subordinate cultures. As Bennett explains, The field of popular culture is structured by the attempt of the ruling class to win hegemony and by forms of opposition to this endeavour. Popular culture 11 The compromise equilibrium of hegemony can also be employed to analyse differ- ent types of conflict within and across popular culture.

The Conservative Party political broadcast, discussed earlier, reveals this process in action. What was being attempted was the disarticulation of socialism as a political movement concerned with economic, social and political emancipation, in favour of its articulation as a political movement concerned to impose restraints on individual freedom.

Also, as we shall see in Chapter 7, feminism has always recognized the importance of cultural struggle within the contested landscape of popular culture. Feminist presses have published science fiction, detective fiction and romance fiction. Such cultural interventions rep- resent an attempt to articulate popular genres for feminist politics. It is also possible, using hegemony theory, to locate the struggle between resistance and incorporation as taking place within and across individual popular texts and practices.

Thus a text is made up of a contradictory mix of different cultural forces. How these elements are articulated will depend in part on the social cir- cumstances and historical conditions of production and consumption. David Morley has modified the model to take into account discourse and subjectivity: There is another aspect of popular culture that is suggested by hegemony theory.

This is of course to make popular culture a profoundly political concept. Popular culture is a site where the construction of everyday life may be examined. The point of doing this is not only academic — that is, as an attempt to understand a process or practice — it is also political, to examine the power relations that con- stitute this form of everyday life and thus reveal the configurations of interests its construction serves Turner, Fiske argues, as does Paul Willis from a slightly different perspective also discussed in Chapter 10 , that popular culture is what people make from the products of the culture industries — mass culture is the repertoire, popular culture is what people actively make from it, actually do with the commodities and commodified practices they consume.

A sixth definition of popular culture is one informed by recent thinking around the debate on postmodernism. This will be the subject of Chapter 9. All I want to do now is to draw attention to some of the basic points in the debate about the relationship between postmodernism and popular culture.

The main point to insist on here is the claim that postmodern culture is a culture that no longer recognizes the distinction between high and popular culture. As we shall see, for some this is a reason to celebrate an end to an elitism constructed on arbitrary distinctions of culture; for others it is a reason to despair at the final victory of commerce over culture. For example, there is a growing list of artists who have had hit records as a result of their songs appearing in television com- mercials.

One of the questions this relationship raises is: Moreover, it is now possible to buy CDs that consist of the songs that have become successful, or have become successful again, as a result of being used in advertisements. There is a wonderful circularity to this: For those with little sympathy for either postmodernism or the celebratory theorizing of some postmodernists, the real question is: Those on the political right might worry about what it is doing to the status of real culture.

This has resulted in a sus- tained debate in cultural studies. The significance of popular culture is central to this debate. This, and other questions, will be explored in Chapter 9.

The chapter will also address, from the perspective of the student of popular culture, the question: This of course makes Britain the first country to produce popular culture defined in this historically restricted way. There are other ways to define popular culture, which do not depend on this particular history or these particu- lar circumstances, but they are definitions that fall outside the range of the cultural theorists and the cultural theory discussed in this book.

The argument, which under- pins this particular periodization of popular culture, is that the experience of industri- alization and urbanization changed fundamentally the cultural relations within the landscape of popular culture.

Before industrialization and urbanization, Britain had two cultures: As a result of industrialization and urbanization, three things happened, which together had the effect of redrawing the cultural map. First of all, industrialization changed the relations between employees and employers.

Second, urbanization produced a residential separation of classes. For the first time in British history there were whole sections of towns and cities inhabited only by working men and women. Third, the panic engendered by the French Revolution — the fear that it might be imported into Britain — encouraged successive governments to enact a variety of repressive measures aimed at defeating radicalism. Political radical- ism and trade unionism were not destroyed, but driven underground to organize beyond the influence of middle-class interference and control.

These three factors combined to produce a cultural space outside of the paternalist considerations of the earlier common culture. The result was the production of a cultural space for the generation of a popular culture more or less outside the controlling influence of the dominant classes.

How this space was filled was a subject of some controversy for the founding fathers of culturalism see Chapter 3. A great deal of the difficulty arises from the absent other which always haunts any definition we might use. It is never enough to speak of popular culture; we have always to acknowledge that with which it is being contrasted. Most of the time and for most people it simply is culture.

This of course makes an understanding of the range of ways of theorizing popular culture all the more important. This book, then, is about the theorizing that has brought us to our present state of thinking on popular culture.

It is about how the changing terrain of popular culture has been explored and mapped by different cultural theorists and different theoretical approaches.

It is upon their shoulders that we stand when we think critically about popular culture. The aim of this book is to introduce readers to the different ways in which popular culture has been analysed and the different popular cultures that have been articulated as a result of the process of analysis. For it must be remembered that popular culture is not a historically fixed set of popular texts and practices, nor is it a historically fixed conceptual category. The object under theoretical scrutiny is both his- torically variable, and always in part constructed by the very act of theoretical engage- ment.

This is further complicated by the fact that different theoretical perspectives have tended to focus on particular areas of the popular cultural landscape. The most com- mon division is between the study of texts popular fiction, television, pop music, etc. The aim of this book, therefore, is to provide readers with a map of the terrain to enable them to begin their own explorations, to begin their own map- ping of the main theoretical and political debates that have characterized the study of popular culture.

Further reading Storey, John ed. A Reader, 4th edition, Harlow: Pearson Education, This is the companion volume to this book. It contains examples of most of the work discussed here.

This book and the companion Reader are supported by an interactive website www. The website has links to other useful sites and electronic resources. Falmer Press, As the title implies, this is a book about cultural studies written from a perspective sympathetic to the Frankfurt School. It offers some useful commentary on popular culture, espe- cially Chapter 2: Further reading 15 Allen, Robert C.

Routledge, Although this collection is specifically focused on television, it contains some excel- lent essays of general interest to the student of popular culture. Open University Press, An interesting collection of essays, covering both theory and analysis. Edward Arnold, A brilliant glossary of the key terms in cultural theory.

Day, Gary ed. Macmillan, A mixed col- lection of essays, some interesting and useful, others too unsure about how seriously to take popular culture. The Story of the Sony Walkman, London: Sage, An excellent introduc- tion to some of the key issues in cultural studies.

Fiske, John, Reading the Popular, London: Unwin Hyman, A collection of essays analysing different examples of popular culture. A clear pre- sentation of his particular approach to the study of popular culture. The Long Debate, St Leonards: The book traces the debate between high and popular culture, with particular, but not exclusive, reference to the Australian experience, from the eigh- teenth century to the present day. UCL Press, A useful introduction to contemporary cultural theory.

University of California Press, A collection of essays, with an informed and interesting introduction. The book is helpfully divided into sections on different approaches to popular culture: Indiana University Press, A useful and interesting collection of essays on cultural theory and popular culture.

Blackwell, An historical account of the concept of popular culture. A clear and comprehensive introduction to theories of popular culture. Tolson, Andrew, Mediations: Text and Discourse in Media Studies, London: An excellent introduction to the study of popular media culture.

Still the best introduction to British cultural studies. Walton, David, Introducing Cultural Studies: Learning Through Practice, London: Another excellent introduction to cultural studies: In the nineteenth century, however, there is a fundamental change in this relationship.

Those with power lose, for a crucial period, the means to control the culture of the sub- ordinate classes. When they begin to recover control, it is culture itself, and not culture as a symptom or sign of something else, that becomes, really for the first time, the actual focus of concern. As we noted at the end of Chapter 1, two factors are crucial to an understanding of these changes: Together they produce other changes that contribute to the making of a popular culture that marks a decisive break with the cultural relationships of the past.

If we take early nineteenth-century Manchester as our example of the new industrial urban civilization, certain points become clear. First of all, the town evolved clear lines of class segregation; second, residential separation was compounded by the new work relations of industrial capitalism.

Third, on the basis of changes in living and working relations, there developed cultural changes. Put very simply, the Manchester working class was given space to develop an independent culture at some remove from the direct intervention of the dominant classes. Industrialization and urbanization had redrawn the cultural map. No longer was there a shared common culture, with an addi- tional culture of the powerful. Now, for the first time in history, there was a separate culture of the subordinate classes of the urban and industrial centres.

It was a culture of two main sources: Each of these developments in different ways threatened traditional notions of cultural cohesion and social stability. One threatened to weaken authority through the commercial disman- tling of cultural cohesion; the other offered a direct challenge to all forms of political and cultural authority. These were not developments guaranteed to hearten those who feared for the con- tinuation of a social order based on power and privilege.

It is out of this context, and its continuing aftermath, which the political study of popular culture first emerges. Matthew Arnold The study of popular culture in the modern age can be said to begin with the work of Matthew Arnold. In some ways this is surprising as he had very little to say directly about popular culture. Arnold established a cultural agenda that remained dominant in debate from the s until the s.

His significance, therefore, lies not with any body of empirical work, but with the enormous influence of his general perspective — the Arnoldian perspective — on popular culture.

For Arnold , culture begins by meaning two things. First and foremost, it is a body of knowledge: In other words, culture is the endeavour to know the best and to make this knowledge prevail for the good of all humankind. But how is culture to be attained? Culture, therefore, no longer consists in two things, but in three.

There is, however, a fourth aspect to consider: For Arnold, then, culture is: Popular culture is never actually defined. The upshot of this is that anarchy and culture are for Arnold deeply political concepts. The social function of culture is to police this disruptive presence: The problem is working-class lived culture: The context of all this is the suffrage agitation of —7. His division of society into Barbarians aristocracy , Philistines middle class and Populace working class would seem at first sight to defuse the class nature of this discourse.

However, if we examine what Arnold means by a common basis, we are forced to a different conclusion. If we ima- gine the human race existing on an evolutionary continuum with itself at one end and a common ancestor shared with the ape at the other, what Arnold seems to be suggesting is that the aristocracy and middle class are further along the evolutionary continuum than the working class.

This is shown quite clearly in his example of the common basis of our human nature. He claims that every time that we snatch up a vehement opinion in ignorance and passion, every time that we long to crush an adversary by sheer violence, every time that we are envious, every time that we are brutal, every time that we adore mere power or suc- cess, every time that we add our voice to swell a blind clamour against some unpopular personage, every time that we trample savagely on the fallen [we have] found in our own bosom the eternal spirit of the Populace First, it must carefully guide the aristocracy and the middle class from such circumstances.

The principle of authority, as we shall see, is to be found in a strong centralized State. Why did Arnold think like this? The answer has a great deal to do with the histor- ical changes witnessed by the nineteenth century. On the other, they are recognition of a historical process that had been in play from at least the eighteenth century the development of industrial capitalism.

Arnold believed that the franchise had given power to men as yet uneducated for power. It is the function of education to restore a sense of sub- ordination and deference to the class. In short, culture would remove popular culture. Two factors make the State necessary.

First, the decline of the aristocracy as a centre of authority; second, the rise of democracy. Together they create a terrain favourable to anarchy. The solution is to occupy this ter- rain with a mixture of culture and coercion.

The State will operate in two ways: It is, therefore, worth looking briefly at his vision of education. Arnold does not envis- age working-class, middle-class and aristocratic students all walking down the same road to culture.

For the aristocracy, education is to accustom it to decline, to banish it as a class to history. For the working class, education is to civilize it for subordination, deference and exploitation. Arnold saw working-class schools primary and elemen- tary as little more than outposts of civilization in a dark continent of working- class barbarism: According to Arnold, working-class children had to be civilized before they could be instructed.

In a letter to his mother, written in , he writes: For the middle class, education was something quite different. Its essential function is to prepare middle-class children for the power that is to be theirs. What it amounts to is a revolution from above, a revolution to prevent popular revolution from below. It works on the principle that a reform given is always better than a reform taken, forced or won. Popular demands are met, but in such a way as to weaken claims for further demands.

It is not that Arnold did not desire a better society, one with less squalor, less poverty, less ignor- ance, etc.

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Most of what I have said is a roundabout way of saying that the first grand theorist of popular culture had in fact very little to say about popular culture, except, that is, to say that it is symptomatic of a profound political disorder. Working-class culture is significant to the extent that it signals evidence of social and cultural disorder and decline — a break- down in social and cultural authority.

The fact that working-class culture exists at all is evidence enough of decline and disorder. One writer in particular seems especially relevant, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. It is the function of the cultiv- ated clerisy to guide the progress of civilization: But the purpose is essentially the same: Such a reading of history is hardly likely to inspire much confidence in democracy — let alone in popular culture. The inescapable answer seems to be: All that is required from the rest of us is to recognize our cultural differ- ence and acknowledge our cultural deference.

Arnold is clear on this point: The mass of mankind will never have any ardent zeal for seeing things as they are; very inadequate ideas will always satisfy them.

On these inadequate ideas reposes, and must repose, the general practice of the world. That is as much as saying that whoever sets himself to see things as they are will find himself one of a very small circle; but it is only by this small circle resolutely doing its own work that adequate ideas will ever get current at all —5.

And again, The highly instructed few, and not the scantily instructed many, will ever be the organ to the human race of knowledge and truth. Knowledge and truth in the full sense of the words, are not attainable by the great mass of the human race at all Arnold, — These are very revealing statements.

If the mass of humankind is to be always satis- fied with inadequate ideas, never able to attain truth and knowledge, for whom are the small circle working? And what of the adequate ideas they will make current — current for whom? For other small circles of elites?

It would appear that Arnold has been ensnared by his own elitism: However, Arnold does not so much reject practical politics, as leave them in the safe hands of established authority. Therefore, the only politics that are being rejected are the politics of protest, the politics of opposition. This is a very stale defence of the dominant order.

Despite this, or perhaps because of it, his influence has been enormous in that the Arnoldian perspective virtually mapped out the way of thinking about popular culture and cultural politics that dominated the field until the late ls. Leavisism For Matthew Arnold it was in some ways less difficult. I am thinking of the so much more desperate plight of culture today Leavis, The influence of Arnold on F.

Leavis is there for all to see. What had been identified by Arnold as a feature of the nineteenth century, it is argued, had continued and been compounded in the twentieth: The work of Leavisism spans a period of some forty years.

However, the Leavisite attitude to popular culture was formed in the early s with the publication of three texts: Mass Civilisation and Minority Culture, by F. Leavis, Fiction and the Reading Public, by Q. Leavis and Culture and Environment, by F. Leavis and Denys Thompson. Together these form the basis of the Leavisite response to popular culture. Upon the minority depends our power of profiting by the finest human experience of the past; they keep alive the subtlest and most perishable parts of tradition.

Upon them depend the implicit standards that order the finer living of an age, the sense that this is worth more than that, this rather than that is the direction in which to go, that the centre is here rather than there 5. What has changed is the status of this minority. No longer can it command cultural deference, no longer is its cultural authority unchallenged.

One danger which I have long foreseen from the spread of the democratic senti- ment, is that of the traditions of literary taste, the canons of literature, being reversed with success by a popular vote. Up to the present time, in all parts of the world, the masses of uneducated or semieducated persons, who form the vast majority of readers, though they cannot and do not appreciate the classics of their race, have been content to acknowledge their traditional supremacy.

Of late there have seemed to me to be certain signs, especially in America, of a revolt of the mob against our literary masters. If literature is to be judged by a plebiscite and if the plebs recognises its power, it will certainly by degrees cease to support reputations which give it no pleasure and which it cannot comprehend. The revolution against taste, once begun, will land us in irreparable chaos According to Leavis and Thompson, what Gosse had only feared had now come to pass: But the minority now is made conscious, not merely of an uncongenial, but of a hostile environment.

It is not merely that the power and the sense of authority are now divorced from culture, but that some of the most disinterested solicitude for civilisation is apt to be, consciously or unconsciously, inimical to culture Leavis, The threat of democracy in matters both cultural and political is a terrifying thought for Leavisism. Moreover, according to Q. Like Arnold, she sees the collapse of traditional authority coming at the same time as the rise of mass democracy.

Leavisism isolates certain key aspects of mass culture for special discussion. This form of compensation. Self-abuse is one thing, but there is worse: For those not addicted to popular fiction, there is always the danger of cinema.

Its popularity makes it a very dangerous source of pleasure indeed: For Q. In Culture and Environment, Leavis and Thompson state: They provide examples for analysis mostly written by F. Leavis himself. Cute scientific dodge. You see, they experi- mented. You talk like an advert- isement. They then suggest the following questions for school students in the fifth and sixth forms: How would he behave in situations where mob passions run high? First of all, the connection that is made between the advertisement and so-called mob passions.

This is an unusual ques- tion, even for students of cultural studies. Other questions operate in much the same way. Here are a few examples: Describe the kind of reader this passage would please, and say why it would please him. What kind of person can you imagine responding to such an appeal as this last? What kind of standards are implied here? Why do we wince at the mentality that uses this idiom? Develop the discussion of the educational value of cinema as suggested here Leavis , in Fiction and the Reading Public, has charted this supposed decline.

Her account of the organic relations between populace and cultivated are very revealing: They had to take the same amuse- ments as their betters. According to Q. There was then no such complete separation as we have. What is interesting about their account of the past is what it reveals about their ideal future. The golden age was not just marked by cultural coherence, but happily for the Leavisites, a cultural coherence based on authoritarian and hierarchical principles. It was a common culture that gave intellectual stimulation at one end, and affective plea- sure at the other.

This was a mythic world in which everyone knew their place, knew their station in life. Most of this culture was, according to Leavisism, destroyed by the changes brought about by the Industrial Revolution. The last rem- nants of the organic community, however, could still be found in rural communities in nineteenth-century England.

Leavis and Thompson offer a reminder of what had been lost: What we have lost is the organic community with the living culture it embodied. Folk songs, folk dances, Cotswold cottages and handicraft products are signs and expressions of something more: They also claim that the quality of work has also deteriorated with the loss of the organic community.

Whereas in the past a worker lived in his or her work, he or she now works in order to live outside his or her work. Whereas in the organic com- munity everyday culture was a constant support to the health of the individual, in mass civilization one must make a conscious and directed effort to avoid the unhealthy influence of everyday culture. What we are pre- sented with is not a historical account, but a literary myth to draw attention to the nature of our supposed loss: But, although the organic commun- ity is lost, it is still possible to get access to its values and standards by reading works of great literature.

Literature is a treasury embodying all that is to be valued in human experience. Unfortunately, literature as the jewel in the crown of culture, has, like culture, lost its authority. It is very easy to be critical of the Leavisite approach to popular culture. But, as Bennett b points out, Even as late as the mid fifties.

Mass culture in America: Following the Second World War, America experienced the temporary success of a cultural and political consensus — supposedly based on liberalism, pluralism and classlessness. As Ross points out: He identifies three positions in the debate: An aesthetic—liberal position that bemoans the fact that given the choice the majority of the population choose so-called second- and third-rate cultural texts and practices in preference to the texts and practices of high culture.

The corporate—liberal or progressive—evolutionist position that claims that popular culture serves a benign function of socializing people into the pleasures of consumption in the new capitalist—consumerist society. The radical or socialist position which views mass culture as a form of, or means to, social control.

Towards the end of the s, the debate became increasingly dominated by the first two positions. This reflected in part the growing McCarthyite pressure to renounce any- thing resembling a socialist analysis. Given limited space, I will focus only on the debate about the health of the body politic within. In order to understand the debate one publication is essential reading — the anthology Mass Culture: The Popular Arts in America, published in Bernard Rosenberg co-editor with David Manning White argues that the material wealth and well-being of American society are being undermined by the dehumaniz- ing effects of mass culture.

He claims that mass culture is not American by nature, or by example, nor is it the inevitable culture of democracy. Mass culture, according to Rosenberg, is nowhere more widespread than in the Soviet Union. Its author is not capitalism, but technology. Therefore America cannot be held responsible for its emer- gence or for its persistence.

White makes a similar point but for a different pur- pose. His defence of American mass culture is to compare it with aspects of the popular culture of the past. He maintains that critics romanticize the past in order to castigate the present.

The second part of his defence consists of cataloguing the extent to which high culture flourishes in America: A key figure in the debate is Dwight Macdonald. First of all, mass culture undermines the vitality of high culture. It is a parasitic culture, feeding on high culture, while offering nothing in return.

Folk art grew from below. It was a spontaneous, autochthonous expression of the people, shaped by themselves, pretty much without the benefit of High Culture, to suit their own needs. Mass Culture is imposed from above. It is fabricated by tech- nicians hired by businessmen; its audience are passive consumers, their participa- tion limited to the choice between buying and not buying.

But Mass Culture breaks down the wall, integrating the masses into a debased form of High Culture and thus becoming an instrument of political domination Like other contributors to the debate, Macdonald is quick to deny the claim that America is the land of mass culture: But it is mass culture not folk culture: If one existed, the masses could have mass culture and the elite could have high culture.

His conclusions are pessimistic to say the least: The analysis changes again as we move from the disillusioned ex-Trotskyism of Macdonald to the liberalism of Ernest van den Haag , who suggests that mass culture is the inevitable outcome of mass society and mass production: The mass produced article need not aim low, but it must aim at an average of tastes.

In satisfying all or at least many individual tastes in some respects, it vio- lates each in other respects. For there are so far no average persons having average tastes.

Averages are but statistical composites. This is one source of the sense of violation which is rationalized vaguely in theories about deliberate debasement of taste He also suggests another reason: Two factors must be particularly tempting: He uses Dante as an illustration. Although Dante may have suffered religious and political pressures, he was not tempted to shape his work to make it appeal to an average of tastes.

Dante was fortunate; his talent was never really tempted to stray from the true path of creativity: It is not so much that mass taste has deteriorated, van den Haag argues, but that mass taste has become more important to the cultural producers in Western societies. Like White, he notes the plurality of cultural texts and practices consumed in America.

However, he also notes the way in which high culture and folk culture are absorbed into mass culture, and are consequently consumed as mass culture: Mass culture is ultimately a sign of impoverishment. It marks the de-individualization of life: This leads van den Haag to suggest that the consumption of mass culture is a form of repres- sion; the empty texts and practices of mass culture are consumed to fill an emptiness within, which grows ever more empty the more the empty texts and practices of mass culture are consumed.

Though the bored person hungers for things to happen to him, the disheartening fact is that when they do he empties them of the very meaning he unconsciously yearns for by using them as distractions. Moreover, he knows that when van den Haag says that industry has impoverished life he is talking nonsense: The present pleasures of the working and lower middle class are not worthy of pro- found aesthetic, moral or intellectual esteem but they are surely not inferior to the villainous things which gave pleasure to their European ancestors from the Middle Ages to the nineteenth century Shils rejects completely the utterly erroneous idea that the twentieth century is a period of severe intellec- tual deterioration and that this alleged deterioration is a product of a mass culture.

Indeed, it would be far more correct to assert that mass culture is now less dam- aging to the lower classes than the dismal and harsh existence of earlier centuries had ever been As far as Shils can see the problem is not mass culture, but the response of intel- lectuals to mass culture.

In similar fashion, D. I do not mean. Our experience along these lines is, in this sense, a preview for the rest of the world of what must follow the inevitable dissolution of the older aristocratic cultures As he explains, contemporary vulgar culture is brutal and disturbing: Fiedler poses the question: What is wrong with American mass culture? He knows that for some critics, at home and abroad, the fact that it is American is enough reason to condemn it.

But, for Fiedler, the inevitability of the American experience makes the argument meaningless; that is, unless those who support the argument are also against industrialization, mass education and democracy. The attack on popular culture is a symptom of timidity and an expression of conformity in matters of culture: The genteel middling mind wants cultural equality on its own terms.

This is not the Leavisite demand for cultural deference, but an insistence on an end to cultural differ- ence.

Therefore, Fiedler sees American mass culture as hierarchical and pluralist, rather than homogenized and levelling. Moreover, he celebrates it as such. However, Shils does not see this as a totally negative development: Like Fiedler, Shils does not shy away from the claim that America is the home of mass culture.

But he remains optimistic: This time, however, class analysis returns not to draw attention to conflicts and contradictions, as had been the case in the thirties, but rather to serve a hegemonic moment in which a consensus was being established about the non antagonistic coexistence of different political conceptions of the world.

Cultural classes could exist as long as they kept themselves to themselves Cultural choice and consumption become both the sign of class belonging and the mark of class difference. However, instead of class antagonism, there is only plurality of consumer choice within a general consensus of the dangers within and the dangers without.

In short, the debate about mass culture had become the terrain on which to construct the Cold War ideology of containment. The fact that this has not yet occurred does not dismay Tumin; for him it simply prompts the question: How do we make it happen?

Given the recent developments in the field of cultural theory, it is almost enough to present a narrative of its approach to condemn it to populist disapproval.

Furthermore, the impact of the tradition is difficult to overestimate: The principal problem is its working assumption that popular culture always represents little more than an example of cultural decline and potential political disorder.

Given this assumption, theoretical research and empirical investigation continued to confirm what it always expected to find. It was an assumption of the theory that there was something wrong with popular culture and, of course, once that assumption had been made, all the rest followed: In short, the only role offered to the products of popular culture was that of fall guy ibid.

As we have noted, popular culture is condemned for many things. Instead, it looked down from the splendid heights of high culture to what it saw as the commercial wastelands of popu- lar culture, seeking only confirmation of cultural decline, cultural difference, and the need for cultural deference, regulation and control.

As we shall see in Chapters 9 and 10 , some of the debates around postmodernism may be in part little more than the latest struggle for inclusion in, and exclusion from, Culture with a capital C , which ultimately is less about texts, and much more about people and their everyday lived cultures.

Further reading 35 Photo 2. There are. Clarendon Press, Contains interesting and informed chapters on Arnold and Leavisism. Bilan, R. Leavis, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, Although mostly on Leavis as a literary critic, it contains some useful material on his attitude to high and popular culture.

Princeton University Press, Contains an illuminating chapter on the mass culture debate in America. Gans, Herbert J. Basic Books, The book is a late contribution to the mass culture debate in America.

It presents a compelling argument in defence of cultural pluralism. Contains useful chapters on Arnold and on F. New Left Books, Perhaps the classic account of Leavisism.

Ross, Andrew, No Respect: Intellectuals and Popular Culture, London: An interesting book, with a useful chapter on the mass culture debate in America.

Trilling, Lionel, Matthew Arnold, London: Unwin University Press, Still the best introduction to Arnold. Past and Present, London: Croom Helm, A collection of essays on different examples of popular culture. Williams, Raymond, Culture and Society, Harmondsworth: Penguin, Thompson, and Stuart Hall and Paddy Whannel in the late s and early s. This body of work, despite certain differences between its authors, con- stitutes the founding texts of culturalism.

The chapter will end with a brief discussion of the institutionalization of culturalism at the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies. Both Hoggart and Williams develop positions in response to Leavisism.

As we noted in Chapter 2, the Leavisites opened up in Britain an educational space for the study of popular culture. Hoggart and Williams occupy this space in ways that challenge many of the basic assumptions of Leavisism, whilst also sharing some of these assumptions.

Thompson, on the other hand, would describe his work, then and always, as Marxist. Johnson uses the term to indicate the pres- ence of a body of theoretical concerns connecting the work of the three theorists. Each, in his different way, breaks with key aspects of the tradition he inherits. Hoggart and Williams break with Leavisism; Thompson breaks with mechanistic and economistic versions of Marxism.

What unites them is an approach which insists that by analysing the culture of a society — the textual forms and documented practices of a culture — it is possible to reconstitute the patterned behaviour and constellations of ideas shared by the men and women who produce and consume the texts and practices of that soci- ety. The institutional home of these developments was, especially in the s and early s, the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies, at the University of Birmingham see Green, Richard Hoggart: Dividing the book in this way in itself speaks volumes about the perspective taken and the conclusions expected.

On the other, we have the cultural decline of the s. His evidence for the cul- tural decline represented by the popular culture of the s is material gathered as a university lecturer and researcher. This is a significant and informing distinction. His confidence stems from his belief that their response to mass culture is always partial: According to Hoggart, working class people have traditionally, or at least for several generations, regarded art as escape, as something enjoyed but not assumed to have much connexion with the matter of daily life.

Art is for you to use The new mass entertainment of the s is said to undermine this aesthetic: Most mass entertainments are in the end what D. They are full of a corrupt brightness, of improper appeals and moral evasions. They assist a gradual drying up of the more positive, the fuller, the more cooperative kinds of enjoyment, in which one gains much by giving much This is a culture that is by and large made by the people.

Here is a fairly well-known example of what he means — his description of a typical day at the seaside: Then on to a substantial lunch on arrival, and after that a fanning out in groups.

But rarely far from one another, because they know their part of the town and their bit of beach, where they feel at home. Then there is the buying of presents for the family, a big meat tea, and the journey home with a stop for drinks on the way.

This is a popular culture that is communal and self-made. The first half of The Uses of Literacy consists mostly of examples of communal and self-made entertainment.

The analysis is often in considerable advance of Leavisism. The idea of an audience appropriating for its own purposes — on its own terms — the commodities offered to it by the culture industries is never fully explored. But the idea is there in Hoggart; again indicating the underexploited sophistication of parts of The Uses of Literacy — too often dismissed as a rather unacademic, and nostalgic, semi- autobiography.

The real weakness of the book is its inability to carry forward the insights from its treatment of the popular culture of the s into its treatment of the so-called mass culture of the s. It is possible that he is right about the s, whilst being wrong about the s. Like many intellectuals whose origins are working class, he is perhaps prone to bracket off his own working-class experience against the real and imagined condescension of his new middle-class colleagues: In our own generation we have a new class of the same kind: The Uses of Literacy 41 surprising numbers, identify with the world into which they have been admitted, and spend much of their time, to the applause of their new peers, expounding and documenting the hopeless vulgarity of the people they have left: The popular aesthetic, so important for an understanding of the working- class pleasure on show in the s, is now forgotten in the rush to condemn the popular culture of the s.

What has happened to the intrinsic significance of the everyday? Instead of talk of a popular aesthetic, we are invited on a tour of the manipulative power of the culture industries. The popular culture of the s, as described by Hoggart, no longer offers the possibility of a full rich life; everything is now far too thin and insipid.

It is a condition to which the young are particularly vulnerable. But such supposedly mindless hedonism, fed by thin and insipid fare, leads only to debili- tating excess. The strongest argument against modern mass enter- tainments is not that they debase taste — debasement can be alive and active — but that they over excite it, eventually dull it, and finally kill it. Although in the late s that stage had not yet been reached, all the signs, according to Hoggart, indicate that this is the way in which the world is travelling.

For example, although mass culture may produce some awful popular songs, people do not have to sing or listen to these songs, and many do not: So that even there they are less affected than the extent of their purchases would seem to indicate He com- pares a piece of contemporary writing in fact it is an imitation written by himself with an extract from East Lynne and an extract from Adam Bede.

He concludes that in com- parison the contemporary extract is thin and insipid: The contemporary extract is similarly thin in a quite definite sense: Moreover, we can easily reverse the judgement: Milk bars are themselves symptomatic: Records are played loud: Compared even with the pub around the corner, this is all a peculiarly thin and pallid form of dissipation, a sort of spiritual dry-rot amid the odour of boiled milk.

Many of the customers — their clothes, their hair styles, their facial expressions all indicate — are living to a large extent in a myth world compounded of a few simple elements which they take to be those of American life ibid. The Uses of Literacy 43 They are a depressing group. The hedonistic but passive barbarian who rides in a fifty-horse-power bus for threepence, to see a five- million-dollar film for one-and-eightpence, is not simply a social oddity; he is a portent Hoggart, however, does not totally despair at the march of mass culture.

However, what makes his approach different from that of Leavisism is his detailed preoccupation with, and, above all, his clear commitment to, working-class culture. What Hoggart celebrates from the s, is, significantly, the very culture that the Leavisites were armed to resist. This alone makes his approach an implicit critique of, and an academic advance on, Leavisism. Raymond Williams: The range of his work alone is formidable.

He has made significant contributions to our understanding of cultural theory, cultural history, television, the press, radio and advertising. His contribution is all the more remarkable when one considers his origins in the Welsh working class his father was a railway signalman , and that as an academic he was Professor of Drama at Cambridge University.

In this section, I will comment only on his contribution to the founding of culturalism and its contribution to the study of popular culture. This is the definition inherited from Arnold and used by Leavisism: The purpose of cultural analysis, using this definition, is one of critical assessment. It can also involve a less exalted prac- tice: Finally, it can also involve a more his- torical, less literary evaluative function: This definition introduces three new ways of thinking about culture.

Williams, however, is reluctant to remove from analysis any of the three ways of understanding culture: As he explains, I would then define the theory of culture as the study of relationships between ele- ments in a whole way of life.

The analysis of culture is the attempt to discover the nature of the organization which is the complex of these relationships. Analysis of particular works or institutions is, in this context, analysis of their essential kind of organization, the relationships which works or institutions embody as parts of the organization as a whole By structure of feeling, he means the shared values of a particular group, class or society. The term is used to describe a discursive structure that is a cross between a collective cultural unconscious and an ideology.

He gives examples of how men and women are released from loveless mar- riages as a result of the convenient death or the insanity of their partners; legacies turn up unexpectedly to overcome reverses in fortune; villains are lost in the Empire; poor men return from the Empire bearing great riches; and those whose aspirations could not be met by prevailing social arrangements are put on a boat to make their dreams come true elsewhere.

All these and more are presented as examples of a shared struc- ture of feeling, the unconscious and conscious working out in fictional texts of the con- tradictions of nineteenth-century society.

As he makes clear, What we are looking for, always, is the actual life that the whole organization is there to express. The significance of documentary culture is that, more clearly than anything else, it expresses that life to us in direct terms, when the living witnesses are silent ibid.

The situation is complicated by the fact that culture always exists on three levels: We need to distinguish three levels of culture, even in its most general definition. There is the lived culture of a particular time and place, only fully accessible to those living in that time and place.