
Category: landscape
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Cassava
via daily.jstor.
Cassava, or Manihot esculenta, is an incredibly starchy plant native to South America. According to agronomist Mabrouk A. El-Sharkawy, cassava is a perennial shrub which “may have been domesticated and cultivated for its starchy roots…before 4000 BC, on the Peruvian coast and in other parts of the Americas.”


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[…] join in, for us, to change misery.
Barely, related — The Calamity Form : On Poetry and Social Life, Anahid Nersessian.
Like the commodity form, the calamity form enables an “active and in-depth knowing of nothing.” Its “peculiar achievement” is not to explain the conditions responsible for the epistemic and experiential dilemmas and contradictions of its moment but rather to put us “on close terms with incomprehension.” Through its “anti-denotative and anti-representational” strategies, the poetry “repossess[es] the occult character of the commodity and sets it not against but beside the inscrutability of its historical moment” (p. 4, emphases Levinson).
In other words, the relationship of commodity form to calamity form is one of adjacency: a serial, similarity, reiterative relationship rather than a hierarchical, logical, and causal one. The calamity form is Nersessian’s category-term for Romanticism’s way of suspending, attenuating, downgrading, vaulting over, fracturing, blurring, deforming, and misdirecting the normative relationships between signifier and signified that characterize narrative, statement, argument, and reference. The calamity form, on her reading, neither critiques nor idealizes the commodity form; it “rehearses” it …
Marjorie Levinson on The Calamity Form via Critical Inquiry
Retrouve
Bibliotheque numerique caraibe amazonie plateau des guyanes
http://www.manioc.org/
https://www.tramil.net/en


Somebodies
Morrison wants us ashamed of how we treat the powerless, even if we, too, feel powerless.
[…]
There is somebody in all of us. This fact is our shared experience, our shared category: the human.
[…]
[A] form of self-regard, for Morrison, was the road back to the human—the insistence that you are somebody although the structures you have lived within have categorized you as “nobody.”
Zadie Smith, newyorker.

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Join in so we can change misery.
Nussbaum went on to extend the work of John Rawls, who developed the most influential contemporary version of the social-contract theory: the idea that rational citizens agree to govern themselves, because they recognize that everyone’s needs are met more effectively through coöperation. Nussbaum argued that Rawls gave an unsatisfactory account of justice for people dependent on others—the disabled, the elderly, and women subservient in their homes. For a society to remain stable and committed to democratic principles, she argued, it needs more than detached moral principles: it has to cultivate certain emotions and teach people to enter empathetically into others’ lives. She believes that the humanities are not just important to a healthy democratic society but decisive, shaping its fate. She proposed an enhanced version of John Stuart Mill’s “aesthetic education”—emotional refinement for all citizens through poetry and music and art. “Respect on its own is cold and inert, insufficient to overcome the bad tendencies that lead human beings to tyrannize over one another,” she wrote. “Public culture cannot be tepid and passionless.”
Rachel Aviv on Martha Nussbaum, newyorker, 2016.
“A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his image”
Joan Didion, The White Album: Essays.
“A finished picture defies all attempts to analyze what makes it work or not work: the responsibility for its every frame is clouded not only in the accidents and compromises of production but in the clauses of its financing.”
Ibid.
“For the fact is that the world cannot be left out of the garden.”
Jamaica Kincaid, My Garden


