E-MAILS 1
Samedi le 8 oct 2005
To: Paul Mackan
“If a nation expects to be ignorant and free in a state of civilisation, it expects what never was and never will be.”
Jefferson
“When Americans hunger for selfless love and are fed only love of self, they will remain hungry, and to often hungry people just come back for more of the same.”
Bill McKibben, Harpers, August 2005, page 37.
There is, and perhaps always will be, a common thread that transcends our readings and our thoughts. Might it be because the relationship between thoughts and readings is deeply intertwined? Not quite sure what it is, but what I am certain of, is that the four-way connection between readings, encounters, conversations and thought gives some flavour to my existence.
A few moments ago, I found myself reflecting on our last conversation. As I was reading through my 2005 summer quote book, these two quotes walloped me. They appeared striking not so much because they are respectable quotes, but rather because they brought me back to the themes of our previous conversation. Sarah Lee’s account of the events that marked her early existence and mostly the evident difficulties encountered with the establishment in the McCarthy / post-WWII era would seem to concur with the lessons of an intellectual father of the US Republic (Jefferson_and a great writer (whom I know very little about.).
And so did your text: What is it we’re to remember? As a student of International Relations I read a lot about wars over the course of the past two years. In fact its what I read about the most.
I remember, when I first arrived at McGill, I was tacking three political science classes, two of which dealt with state behaviour. I was so affected by what I was reading, that, at one point, I thought I was having a mental break down. Never happened. What did happen though, was a gradual adaptation which would in turn lead me to become detached from the events that plagued the past centuries and also made me dependent, like a drug, to war and conflict studies. In fact, this emotional detachment was an inevitable condition to my continuation as a political science student. The great thing about Chris Hedges account of war and consequently What is it we’re to remember?, is that it forced emotions, realisations of the horror, back in to me. That is something that few books and articles written by war scholars are capable of doing today.
In fact, as I argued yesturday about economists, I think they strive the exact opposite.
I cannot really comment on the writing apart from the fact that it grounded me into the horror. The question that you ask, the title of the text, is perhaps the question all students ask themselves before drafting the backbone (essay plan) of a paper. More often than not, access to the darker dimensions or darker accounts of the winner’s (of war, allied countries in our case) war history or post-drama history is harder to find. And in the case that this material is available, one is forced to ask himself if he really wants (or if he is capable of going beyond the victorious myths of war) to be reminiscent of the atrocities committed not by his neighbours (countries), but by his grandfathers, friends or perhaps teachers.
Your question is the mother of all post-war questions – the question on which societies strive and in turn collapse. The questions that you (a person or nation) fail to confront always gets back to you in the end. If you look at the main diplomatic problems plaguing Eastern Asia (China, Japan, Korea) today, they all revolve over the recognition of the atrocities committed more than 60 years ago. For example Japan fails to recognise the fact that its army used Korean “comfort women” as sexual objects for soldiers during WWII. In the same strand, Japan refuses to officially recognise the fact that it conducted bacteriological warfare on Chinese soldiers. This failure to face the ultimate question: What is it we’re to remember?, is a menace to one of the largest and prosperous trade relations in the world today. The welfare of millions of Asian people relies on the recognition of the answer to this question by statesmen.
In this sense, your text is great. The writing is rich and to the point attaining an objective that few scholars or even writers are capable of realising; emotion.
Another peace of material that might help you develop this work is a Hollywood movie: Lord of Wars. It’s a film about the world’s largest gunrunner who is successful mainly because he refuses to ask that very question, to look deep inside himself. It was recommended by McGill’s Thomas Naylor, the worlds leading underground economy expert.
Best regards, keep in touch
Laurent
To: Gergana
Dear Gergana, I know very little of you. In fact, I think you and I spoke maybe three times in total. The first time we spoke was at a party: Andreas Norberg’s place in the fall of 2004 in the Plateau, Montreal. Then, we had a class together, European Foreign Policy last winter. I was shy of speaking to you because of what happened the first time I met you. I flirted with you. I thought you were an amazing person. Still do, even though I know little of you. Apparently, we only need a few seconds to know if we like people or not. Hope you remember me.
The one thing I do know is that your in Europe now. I’ll be in Paris for the next year. Can’t quite remember if you are in Paris, Bruxels or elsewhere but if you come by Paris, please let me know. I would be more than happy to meet with you. I know Andreas will be visiting me. I’m certain that he would like to see you as well.
I realise that this is a rather strange email. Hope you can go beyond the eerie appearance of this letter. Rest assured, this is not a seduction attempt, but rather, an effort to make up for a mist friendship opportunity.
Sincerely
Laurent Pauzé-Dupuis
To: Prof. Micheal Shapiro
Dear Professor Shapiro, it’s been while since we last spoke. I fear that you might actually not remember me. I’m the McGill student whom you met at the screening of After 911 by your colleague, prof. Der Derian.
A lot has happened since. Actually, I’m heading to Paris this week where I’ll be studying for the next 10 months. I was accepted at l’IEP de Paris for a year. That will give the occasion to look at IR from completely different perspectives. After which, I’ll be coming back to McGill to write my honours thesis.
I read a book written by Chris Hedges, War correspondant for the NewYork Times. War is a Force that Gives us Meaning is an extremely powerful book. It addresses a number of dimensions of warfare addressed in your work on the fog of war and political and cultural landscapes. I thought it might have been useful to you if you didn’t know it already.
Keep in touch.
Best regards
Laurent Dupuis, Montreal.
To: Julie Noel
Bonjour Julie
Je t’écris parce que ça fait une éternité que je t’ai parlé. La dernière fois, c’était sur le coin d’une rue. T’avais un truc de circulation routière sur le dos et t’avais une gueule de fille trop enmerdée par son boulot. Ton frère m’a dit que ton voyage au Mexique avait été soso. Je te comprends vraiment à ce niveau là. Les semaines que j'y ai passé malade ont été les pires de ma vie. Tu te reprendras sans doute en Asie. Tu pars quand ? Donne des nouvelles si tu veux.
Quant à moi, je pars jeudi pour Paris. Si t'as le temps et si çà te tente de prendre un verre, lâche-moi un coup de fil sur Ste-Éli.
Best regards
Laurent
To: Paul Mackan
“If a nation expects to be ignorant and free in a state of civilisation, it expects what never was and never will be.”
Jefferson
“When Americans hunger for selfless love and are fed only love of self, they will remain hungry, and to often hungry people just come back for more of the same.”
Bill McKibben, Harpers, August 2005, page 37.
There is, and perhaps always will be, a common thread that transcends our readings and our thoughts. Might it be because the relationship between thoughts and readings is deeply intertwined? Not quite sure what it is, but what I am certain of, is that the four-way connection between readings, encounters, conversations and thought gives some flavour to my existence.
A few moments ago, I found myself reflecting on our last conversation. As I was reading through my 2005 summer quote book, these two quotes walloped me. They appeared striking not so much because they are respectable quotes, but rather because they brought me back to the themes of our previous conversation. Sarah Lee’s account of the events that marked her early existence and mostly the evident difficulties encountered with the establishment in the McCarthy / post-WWII era would seem to concur with the lessons of an intellectual father of the US Republic (Jefferson_and a great writer (whom I know very little about.).
And so did your text: What is it we’re to remember? As a student of International Relations I read a lot about wars over the course of the past two years. In fact its what I read about the most.
I remember, when I first arrived at McGill, I was tacking three political science classes, two of which dealt with state behaviour. I was so affected by what I was reading, that, at one point, I thought I was having a mental break down. Never happened. What did happen though, was a gradual adaptation which would in turn lead me to become detached from the events that plagued the past centuries and also made me dependent, like a drug, to war and conflict studies. In fact, this emotional detachment was an inevitable condition to my continuation as a political science student. The great thing about Chris Hedges account of war and consequently What is it we’re to remember?, is that it forced emotions, realisations of the horror, back in to me. That is something that few books and articles written by war scholars are capable of doing today.
In fact, as I argued yesturday about economists, I think they strive the exact opposite.
I cannot really comment on the writing apart from the fact that it grounded me into the horror. The question that you ask, the title of the text, is perhaps the question all students ask themselves before drafting the backbone (essay plan) of a paper. More often than not, access to the darker dimensions or darker accounts of the winner’s (of war, allied countries in our case) war history or post-drama history is harder to find. And in the case that this material is available, one is forced to ask himself if he really wants (or if he is capable of going beyond the victorious myths of war) to be reminiscent of the atrocities committed not by his neighbours (countries), but by his grandfathers, friends or perhaps teachers.
Your question is the mother of all post-war questions – the question on which societies strive and in turn collapse. The questions that you (a person or nation) fail to confront always gets back to you in the end. If you look at the main diplomatic problems plaguing Eastern Asia (China, Japan, Korea) today, they all revolve over the recognition of the atrocities committed more than 60 years ago. For example Japan fails to recognise the fact that its army used Korean “comfort women” as sexual objects for soldiers during WWII. In the same strand, Japan refuses to officially recognise the fact that it conducted bacteriological warfare on Chinese soldiers. This failure to face the ultimate question: What is it we’re to remember?, is a menace to one of the largest and prosperous trade relations in the world today. The welfare of millions of Asian people relies on the recognition of the answer to this question by statesmen.
In this sense, your text is great. The writing is rich and to the point attaining an objective that few scholars or even writers are capable of realising; emotion.
Another peace of material that might help you develop this work is a Hollywood movie: Lord of Wars. It’s a film about the world’s largest gunrunner who is successful mainly because he refuses to ask that very question, to look deep inside himself. It was recommended by McGill’s Thomas Naylor, the worlds leading underground economy expert.
Best regards, keep in touch
Laurent
To: Gergana
Dear Gergana, I know very little of you. In fact, I think you and I spoke maybe three times in total. The first time we spoke was at a party: Andreas Norberg’s place in the fall of 2004 in the Plateau, Montreal. Then, we had a class together, European Foreign Policy last winter. I was shy of speaking to you because of what happened the first time I met you. I flirted with you. I thought you were an amazing person. Still do, even though I know little of you. Apparently, we only need a few seconds to know if we like people or not. Hope you remember me.
The one thing I do know is that your in Europe now. I’ll be in Paris for the next year. Can’t quite remember if you are in Paris, Bruxels or elsewhere but if you come by Paris, please let me know. I would be more than happy to meet with you. I know Andreas will be visiting me. I’m certain that he would like to see you as well.
I realise that this is a rather strange email. Hope you can go beyond the eerie appearance of this letter. Rest assured, this is not a seduction attempt, but rather, an effort to make up for a mist friendship opportunity.
Sincerely
Laurent Pauzé-Dupuis
To: Prof. Micheal Shapiro
Dear Professor Shapiro, it’s been while since we last spoke. I fear that you might actually not remember me. I’m the McGill student whom you met at the screening of After 911 by your colleague, prof. Der Derian.
A lot has happened since. Actually, I’m heading to Paris this week where I’ll be studying for the next 10 months. I was accepted at l’IEP de Paris for a year. That will give the occasion to look at IR from completely different perspectives. After which, I’ll be coming back to McGill to write my honours thesis.
I read a book written by Chris Hedges, War correspondant for the NewYork Times. War is a Force that Gives us Meaning is an extremely powerful book. It addresses a number of dimensions of warfare addressed in your work on the fog of war and political and cultural landscapes. I thought it might have been useful to you if you didn’t know it already.
Keep in touch.
Best regards
Laurent Dupuis, Montreal.
To: Julie Noel
Bonjour Julie
Je t’écris parce que ça fait une éternité que je t’ai parlé. La dernière fois, c’était sur le coin d’une rue. T’avais un truc de circulation routière sur le dos et t’avais une gueule de fille trop enmerdée par son boulot. Ton frère m’a dit que ton voyage au Mexique avait été soso. Je te comprends vraiment à ce niveau là. Les semaines que j'y ai passé malade ont été les pires de ma vie. Tu te reprendras sans doute en Asie. Tu pars quand ? Donne des nouvelles si tu veux.
Quant à moi, je pars jeudi pour Paris. Si t'as le temps et si çà te tente de prendre un verre, lâche-moi un coup de fil sur Ste-Éli.
Best regards
Laurent
posted by François Dupuis @ 13:59
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