2. 239
240
241
Public Administration and Information
Technology
Volume 10
Series Editor
Christopher G. Reddick
San Antonio, Texas, USA
[email protected]
More information about this series at
http://www.springer.com/series/10796
[email protected]
Marijn Janssen • Maria A. Wimmer
3. Ameneh Deljoo
Editors
Policy Practice and Digital
Science
Integrating Complex Systems, Social
Simulation and Public Administration
in Policy Research
2123
[email protected]
Editors
Marijn Janssen Ameneh Deljoo
Faculty of Technology, Policy, and Faculty of Technology,
Policy, and
Management Management
Delft University of Technology Delft University of Technology
Delft Delft
The Netherlands The Netherlands
Maria A. Wimmer
Institute for Information Systems Research
University of Koblenz-Landau
Koblenz
Germany
ISBN 978-3-319-12783-5 ISBN 978-3-319-12784-2 (eBook)
Public Administration and Information Technology
DOI 10.1007/978-3-319-12784-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014956771
5. The last economic and financial crisis has heavily threatened
European and other
economies around the globe. Also, the Eurozone crisis, the
energy and climate
change crises, challenges of demographic change with high
unemployment rates,
and the most recent conflicts in the Ukraine and the near East or
the Ebola virus
disease in Africa threaten the wealth of our societies in
different ways. The inability
to predict or rapidly deal with dramatic changes and negative
trends in our economies
and societies can seriously hamper the wealth and prosperity of
the European Union
and its Member States as well as the global networks. These
societal and economic
challenges demonstrate an urgent need for more effective and
efficient processes of
governance and policymaking, therewith specifically addressing
crisis management
and economic/welfare impact reduction.
Therefore, investing in the exploitation of innovative
information and commu-
nication technology (ICT) in the support of good governance
and policy modeling
has become a major effort of the European Union to position
itself and its Member
States well in the global digital economy. In this realm, the
European Union has
laid out clear strategic policy objectives for 2020 in the Europe
2020 strategy1: In
a changing world, we want the EU to become a smart,
sustainable, and inclusive
economy. These three mutually reinforcing priorities should
6. help the EU and the
Member States deliver high levels of employment, productivity,
and social cohesion.
Concretely, the Union has set five ambitious objectives—on
employment, innovation,
education, social inclusion, and climate/energy—to be reached
by 2020. Along with
this, Europe 2020 has established four priority areas—smart
growth, sustainable
growth, inclusive growth, and later added: A strong and
effective system of eco-
nomic governance—designed to help Europe emerge from the
crisis stronger and to
coordinate policy actions between the EU and national levels.
To specifically support European research in strengthening
capacities, in overcom-
ing fragmented research in the field of policymaking, and in
advancing solutions for
1 Europe 2020 http://ec.europa.eu/europe2020/index_en.htm
v
[email protected]
vi Preface
ICT supported governance and policy modeling, the European
Commission has co-
funded an international support action called eGovPoliNet2. The
overall objective
of eGovPoliNet was to create an international, cross-
disciplinary community of re-
7. searchers working on ICT solutions for governance and policy
modeling. In turn,
the aim of this community was to advance and sustain research
and to share the
insights gleaned from experiences in Europe and globally. To
achieve this, eGovPo-
liNet established a dialogue, brought together experts from
distinct disciplines, and
collected and analyzed knowledge assets (i.e., theories,
concepts, solutions, findings,
and lessons on ICT solutions in the field) from different
research disciplines. It built
on case material accumulated by leading actors coming from
distinct disciplinary
backgrounds and brought together the innovative knowledge in
the field. Tools, meth-
ods, and cases were drawn from the academic community, the
ICT sector, specialized
policy consulting firms as well as from policymakers and
governance experts. These
results were assembled in a knowledge base and analyzed in
order to produce com-
parative analyses and descriptions of cases, tools, and scientific
approaches to enrich
a common knowledge base accessible via www.policy-
community.eu.
This book, entitled “Policy Practice and Digital Science—
Integrating Complex
Systems, Social Simulation, and Public Administration in Policy
Research,” is one
of the exciting results of the activities of eGovPoliNet—fusing
community building
activities and activities of knowledge analysis. It documents
findings of comparative
analyses and brings in experiences of experts from academia
8. and from case descrip-
tions from all over the globe. Specifically, it demonstrates how
the explosive growth
in data, computational power, and social media creates new
opportunities for policy-
making and research. The book provides a first comprehensive
look on how to take
advantage of the development in the digital world with new
approaches, concepts,
instruments, and methods to deal with societal and
computational complexity. This
requires the knowledge traditionally found in different
disciplines including public
administration, policy analyses, information systems, complex
systems, and com-
puter science to work together in a multidisciplinary fashion
and to share approaches.
This book provides the foundation for strongly multidisciplinary
research, in which
the various developments and disciplines work together from a
comprehensive and
holistic policymaking perspective. A wide range of aspects for
social and professional
networking and multidisciplinary constituency building along
the axes of technol-
ogy, participative processes, governance, policy modeling,
social simulation, and
visualization are tackled in the 19 papers.
With this book, the project makes an effective contribution to
the overall objec-
tives of the Europe 2020 strategy by providing a better
understanding of different
approaches to ICT enabled governance and policy modeling, and
by overcoming the
fragmented research of the past. This book provides impressive
9. insights into various
theories, concepts, and solutions of ICT supported policy
modeling and how stake-
holders can be more actively engaged in public policymaking. It
draws conclusions
2 eGovPoliNet is cofunded under FP 7, Call identifier FP7-ICT-
2011-7, URL: www.policy-
community.eu
[email protected]
Preface vii
of how joint multidisciplinary research can bring more effective
and resilient find-
ings for better predicting dramatic changes and negative trends
in our economies and
societies.
It is my great pleasure to provide the preface to the book
resulting from the
eGovPoliNet project. This book presents stimulating research by
researchers coming
from all over Europe and beyond. Congratulations to the project
partners and to the
authors!—Enjoy reading!
Thanassis Chrissafis
Project officer of eGovPoliNet
European Commission
DG CNECT, Excellence in Science, Digital Science
[email protected]
10. Contents
1 Introduction to Policy-Making in the Digital Age . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . 1
Marijn Janssen and Maria A. Wimmer
2 Educating Public Managers and Policy Analysts
in an Era of Informatics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . 15
Christopher Koliba and Asim Zia
3 The Quality of Social Simulation: An Example from Research
Policy Modelling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Petra Ahrweiler and Nigel Gilbert
4 Policy Making and Modelling in a Complex World . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . 57
Wander Jager and Bruce Edmonds
5 From Building a Model to Adaptive Robust Decision Making
Using Systems Modeling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . 75
Erik Pruyt
6 Features and Added Value of Simulation Models Using
Different
Modelling Approaches Supporting Policy-Making: A
Comparative
Analysis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . 95
Dragana Majstorovic, Maria A.Wimmer, Roy Lay-Yee, Peter
Davis
11. and Petra Ahrweiler
7 A Comparative Analysis of Tools and Technologies
for Policy Making . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . 125
Eleni Kamateri, Eleni Panopoulou, Efthimios Tambouris,
Konstantinos Tarabanis, Adegboyega Ojo, Deirdre Lee
and David Price
8 Value Sensitive Design of Complex Product Systems . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . 157
Andreas Ligtvoet, Geerten van de Kaa, Theo Fens, Cees van
Beers,
Paulier Herder and Jeroen van den Hoven
ix
[email protected]
x Contents
9 Stakeholder Engagement in Policy Development: Observations
and Lessons from International Experience . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . 177
Natalie Helbig, Sharon Dawes, Zamira Dzhusupova, Bram
Klievink
and Catherine Gerald Mkude
10 Values in Computational Models Revalued . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . 205
Rebecca Moody and Lasse Gerrits
11 The Psychological Drivers of Bureaucracy: Protecting
the Societal Goals of an Organization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
12. . . . . . . . . . 221
Tjeerd C. Andringa
12 Active and Passive Crowdsourcing in Government . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . 261
Euripidis Loukis and Yannis Charalabidis
13 Management of Complex Systems: Toward Agent-Based
Gaming for Policy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . 291
Wander Jager and Gerben van der Vegt
14 The Role of Microsimulation in the Development of Public
Policy . . . 305
Roy Lay-Yee and Gerry Cotterell
15 Visual Decision Support for Policy Making: Advancing
Policy
Analysis with Visualization . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . 321
Tobias Ruppert, Jens Dambruch, Michel Krämer, Tina Balke,
Marco
Gavanelli, Stefano Bragaglia, Federico Chesani, Michela
Milano
and Jörn Kohlhammer
16 Analysis of Five Policy Cases in the Field of Energy Policy .
. . . . . . . . 355
Dominik Bär, Maria A.Wimmer, Jozef Glova, Anastasia
Papazafeiropoulou and Laurence Brooks
17 Challenges to Policy-Making in Developing Countries
and the Roles of Emerging Tools, Methods and Instruments:
Experiences from Saint Petersburg . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . 379
Dmitrii Trutnev, Lyudmila Vidyasova and Andrei Chugunov
13. 18 Sustainable Urban Development, Governance and Policy:
A Comparative Overview of EU Policies and Projects . . . . . . . .
. . . . . 393
Diego Navarra and Simona Milio
19 eParticipation, Simulation Exercise and Leadership Training
in Nigeria: Bridging the Digital Divide . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . 417
Tanko Ahmed
[email protected]
Contributors
Tanko Ahmed National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies
(NIPSS), Jos,
Nigeria
Petra Ahrweiler EA European Academy of Technology and
Innovation Assess-
ment GmbH, Bad Neuenahr-Ahrweiler, Germany
Tjeerd C. Andringa University College Groningen, Institute of
Artificial In-
telligence and Cognitive Engineering (ALICE), University of
Groningen, AB,
Groningen, the Netherlands
Tina Balke University of Surrey, Surrey, UK
Dominik Bär University of Koblenz-Landau, Koblenz, Germany
Cees van Beers Faculty of Technology, Policy, and
14. Management, Delft University
of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Stefano Bragaglia University of Bologna, Bologna, Italy
Laurence Brooks Brunel University, Uxbridge, UK
Yannis Charalabidis University of the Aegean, Samos, Greece
Federico Chesani University of Bologna, Bologna, Italy
Andrei Chugunov ITMO University, St. Petersburg, Russia
Gerry Cotterell Centre of Methods and Policy Application in the
Social Sciences
(COMPASS Research Centre), University of Auckland,
Auckland, New Zealand
Jens Dambruch Fraunhofer Institute for Computer Graphics
Research, Darmstadt,
Germany
Peter Davis Centre of Methods and Policy Application in the
Social Sciences
(COMPASS Research Centre), University of Auckland,
Auckland, New Zealand
Sharon Dawes Center for Technology in Government,
University at Albany,
Albany, New York, USA
xi
[email protected]
15. xii Contributors
Zamira Dzhusupova Department of Public Administration and
Development Man-
agement, United Nations Department of Economic and Social
Affairs (UNDESA),
NewYork, USA
Bruce Edmonds Manchester Metropolitan University,
Manchester, UK
Theo Fens Faculty of Technology, Policy, and Management,
Delft University of
Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Marco Gavanelli University of Ferrara, Ferrara, Italy
Lasse Gerrits Department of Public Administration, Erasmus
University
Rotterdam, Rotterdam, The Netherlands
Nigel Gilbert University of Surrey, Guildford, UK
Jozef Glova Technical University Kosice, Kosice, Slovakia
Natalie Helbig Center for Technology in Government,
University at Albany,
Albany, New York, USA
Paulier Herder Faculty of Technology, Policy, and Management,
Delft University
of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Jeroen van den Hoven Faculty of Technology, Policy, and
Management, Delft
16. University of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Wander Jager Groningen Center of Social Complexity Studies,
University of
Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands
Marijn Janssen Faculty of Technology, Policy, and
Management, Delft University
of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Geerten van de Kaa Faculty of Technology, Policy, and
Management, Delft
University of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Eleni Kamateri Information Technologies Institute, Centre for
Research &
Technology—Hellas, Thessaloniki, Greece
Bram Klievink Faculty of Technology, Policy and Management,
Delft University
of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Jörn Kohlhammer GRIS, TU Darmstadt & Fraunhofer IGD,
Darmstadt, Germany
Christopher Koliba University of Vermont, Burlington, VT,
USA
Michel Krämer Fraunhofer Institute for Computer Graphics
Research, Darmstadt,
Germany
Roy Lay-Yee Centre of Methods and Policy Application in the
Social Sciences
(COMPASS Research Centre), University of Auckland,
Auckland, New Zealand
17. Deirdre Lee INSIGHT Centre for Data Analytics, NUIG,
Galway, Ireland
[email protected]
Contributors xiii
Andreas Ligtvoet Faculty of Technology, Policy, and
Management, Delft Univer-
sity of Technology, Delft, The Netherlands
Euripidis Loukis University of the Aegean, Samos, Greece
Dragana Majstorovic University of Koblenz-Landau, Koblenz,
Germany
Michela Milano University of Bologna, Bologna, Italy
Simona Milio London School of Economics, Houghton Street,
London, UK
Catherine Gerald Mkude Institute for IS Research, University of
Koblenz-Landau,
Koblenz, Germany
Rebecca Moody Department of Public Administration, Erasmus
University
Rotterdam, Rotterdam, The Netherlands
Diego Navarra Studio Navarra, London, UK
Adegboyega Ojo INSIGHT Centre for Data Analytics, NUIG,
Galway, Ireland
18. Eleni Panopoulou Information Technologies Institute, Centre
for Research &
Technology—Hellas, Thessaloniki, Greece
Anastasia Papazafeiropoulou Brunel University, Uxbridge, UK
David Price Thoughtgraph Ltd, Somerset, UK
Erik Pruyt Faculty of Technology, Policy, and Management,
Delft University of
Technology, Delft, The Netherlands; Netherlands Institute for
Advanced Study,
Wassenaar, The Netherlands
Tobias Ruppert Fraunhofer Institute for Computer Graphics
Research, Darmstadt,
Germany
Efthimios Tambouris Information Technologies Institute, Centre
for Research &
Technology—Hellas, Thessaloniki, Greece; University of
Macedonia, Thessaloniki,
Greece
Konstantinos Tarabanis Information Technologies Institute,
Centre for Research
& Technology—Hellas, Thessaloniki, Greece; University of
Macedonia, Thessa-
loniki, Greece
Dmitrii Trutnev ITMO University, St. Petersburg, Russia
Gerben van der Vegt Faculty of Economics and Business,
University of Groningen,
Groningen, The Netherlands
19. Lyudmila Vidyasova ITMO University, St. Petersburg, Russia
Maria A. Wimmer University of Koblenz-Landau, Koblenz,
Germany
Asim Zia University of Vermont, Burlington, VT, USA
[email protected]
Chapter 1
Introduction to Policy-Making in the Digital Age
Marijn Janssen and Maria A. Wimmer
We are running the 21st century using 20th century systems on
top of 19th century political structures. . . .
John Pollock, contributing editor MIT technology review
Abstract The explosive growth in data, computational power,
and social media
creates new opportunities for innovating governance and policy-
making. These in-
formation and communications technology (ICT) developments
affect all parts of
the policy-making cycle and result in drastic changes in the way
policies are devel-
oped. To take advantage of these developments in the digital
world, new approaches,
concepts, instruments, and methods are needed, which are able
to deal with so-
cietal complexity and uncertainty. This field of research is
sometimes depicted
as e-government policy, e-policy, policy informatics, or data
21. 10.1007/978-3-319-12784-2_1
[email protected]
2 M. Janssen and M. A. Wimmer
take advantage of these developments in the digital world, new
approaches, con-
cepts, instruments, and methods are needed, which are able to
deal with societal and
computational complexity. This requires the use of knowledge
which is traditionally
found in different disciplines, including (but not limited to)
public administration,
policy analyses, information systems, complex systems, and
computer science. All
these knowledge areas are needed for policy-making in the
digital age. The aim of
this book is to provide a foundation for this new
interdisciplinary field in which
various traditional disciplines are blended.
Both policy-makers and those in charge of policy
implementations acknowledge
that ICT is becoming more and more important and is changing
the policy-making
process, resulting in a next generation policy-making based on
ICT support. The field
of policy-making is changing driven by developments such as
open data, computa-
tional methods for processing data, opinion mining, simulation,
and visualization of
rich data sets, all combined with public engagement, social
media, and participatory
22. tools. In this respect Web 2.0 and even Web 3.0 point to the
specific applications of
social networks and semantically enriched and linked data
which are important for
policy-making. In policy-making vast amount of data are used
for making predictions
and forecasts. This should result in improving the outcomes of
policy-making.
Policy-making is confronted with an increasing complexity and
uncertainty of the
outcomes which results in a need for developing policy models
that are able to deal
with this. To improve the validity of the models policy-makers
are harvesting data to
generate evidence. Furthermore, they are improving their
models to capture complex
phenomena and dealing with uncertainty and limited and
incomplete information.
Despite all these efforts, there remains often uncertainty
concerning the outcomes of
policy interventions. Given the uncertainty, often multiple
scenarios are developed
to show alternative outcomes and impact. A condition for this is
the visualization of
policy alternatives and its impact. Visualization can ensure
involvement of nonexpert
and to communicate alternatives. Furthermore, games can be
used to let people gain
insight in what can happen, given a certain scenario. Games
allow persons to interact
and to experience what happens in the future based on their
interventions.
Policy-makers are often faced with conflicting solutions to
complex problems,
23. thus making it necessary for them to test out their assumptions,
interventions, and
resolutions. For this reason policy-making organizations
introduce platforms facili-
tating policy-making and citizens engagements and enabling the
processing of large
volumes of data. There are various participative platforms
developed by government
agencies (e.g., De Reuver et al. 2013; Slaviero et al. 2010;
Welch 2012). Platforms
can be viewed as a kind of regulated environment that enable
developers, users, and
others to interact with each other, share data, services, and
applications, enable gov-
ernments to more easily monitor what is happening and
facilitate the development
of innovative solutions (Janssen and Estevez 2013). Platforms
should provide not
only support for complex policy deliberations with citizens but
should also bring to-
gether policy-modelers, developers, policy-makers, and other
stakeholders involved
in policy-making. In this way platforms provide an information-
rich, interactive
[email protected]
1 Introduction to Policy-Making in the Digital Age 3
environment that brings together relevant stakeholders and in
which complex phe-
nomena can be modeled, simulated, visualized, discussed, and
even the playing of
games can be facilitated.
24. 1.2 Complexity and Uncertainty in Policy-Making
Policy-making is driven by the need to solve societal problems
and should result in
interventions to solve these societal problems. Examples of
societal problems are
unemployment, pollution, water quality, safety, criminality,
well-being, health, and
immigration. Policy-making is an ongoing process in which
issues are recognized
as a problem, alternative courses of actions are formulated,
policies are affected,
implemented, executed, and evaluated (Stewart et al. 2007).
Figure 1.1 shows the
typical stages of policy formulation, implementation, execution,
enforcement, and
evaluation. This process should not be viewed as linear as many
interactions are
necessary as well as interactions with all kind of stakeholders.
In policy-making
processes a vast amount of stakeholders are always involved,
which makes policy-
making complex.
Once a societal need is identified, a policy has to be formulated.
Politicians,
members of parliament, executive branches, courts, and interest
groups may be
involved in these formulations. Often contradictory proposals
are made, and the
impact of a proposal is difficult to determine as data is missing,
models cannot
citizen
s
26. 4 M. Janssen and M. A. Wimmer
capture the complexity, and the results of policy models are
difficult to interpret and
even might be interpreted in an opposing way. This is further
complicated as some
proposals might be good but cannot be implemented or are too
costly to implement.
There is a large uncertainty concerning the outcomes.
Policy implementation is done by organizations other than those
that formulated
the policy. They often have to interpret the policy and have to
make implemen-
tation decisions. Sometimes IT can block quick implementation
as systems have
to be changed. Although policy-making is the domain of the
government, private
organizations can be involved to some extent, in particular in
the execution of policies.
Once all things are ready and decisions are made, policies need
to be executed.
During the execution small changes are typically made to fine
tune the policy formu-
lation, implementation decisions might be more difficult to
realize, policies might
bring other benefits than intended, execution costs might be
higher and so on. Typ-
ically, execution is continually changing. Evaluation is part of
the policy-making
process as it is necessary to ensure that the policy-execution
solved the initial so-
27. cietal problem. Policies might become obsolete, might not work,
have unintended
affects (like creating bureaucracy) or might lose its support
among elected officials,
or other alternatives might pop up that are better.
Policy-making is a complex process in which many stakeholders
play a role. In
the various phases of policy-making different actors are
dominant and play a role.
Figure 1.1 shows only some actors that might be involved, and
many of them are not
included in this figure. The involvement of so many actors
results in fragmentation
and often actors are even not aware of the decisions made by
other actors. This makes
it difficult to manage a policy-making process as each actor has
other goals and might
be self-interested.
Public values (PVs) are a way to try to manage complexity and
give some guidance.
Most policies are made to adhere to certain values. Public value
management (PVM)
represents the paradigm of achieving PVs as being the primary
objective (Stoker
2006). PVM refers to the continuous assessment of the actions
performed by public
officials to ensure that these actions result in the creation of PV
(Moore 1995). Public
servants are not only responsible for following the right
procedure, but they also have
to ensure that PVs are realized. For example, civil servants
should ensure that garbage
is collected. The procedure that one a week garbage is collected
is secondary. If it is
28. necessary to collect garbage more (or less) frequently to ensure
a healthy environment
then this should be done. The role of managers is not only to
ensure that procedures
are followed but they should be custodians of public assets and
maximize a PV.
There exist a wide variety of PVs (Jørgensen and Bozeman
2007). PVs can be
long-lasting or might be driven by contemporary politics. For
example, equal access
is a typical long-lasting value, whereas providing support for
students at universities
is contemporary, as politicians might give more, less, or no
support to students. PVs
differ over times, but also the emphasis on values is different in
the policy-making
cycle as shown in Fig. 1.2. In this figure some of the values
presented by Jørgensen
and Bozeman (2007) are mapped onto the four policy-making
stages. Dependent on
the problem at hand other values might play a role that is not
included in this figure.
[email protected]
1 Introduction to Policy-Making in the Digital Age 5
Policy
formulation
Policy
implementation
30. equal access
balancing of interests
robust
honesty
fair
timelessness
reliable
flexible
fair
Fig. 1.2 Public values in the policy cycle
Policy is often formulated by politicians in consultation with
experts. In the PVM
paradigm, public administrations aim at creating PVs for society
and citizens. This
suggests a shift from talking about what citizens expect in
creating a PV. In this view
public officials should focus on collaborating and creating a
dialogue with citizens
in order to determine what constitutes a PV.
1.3 Developments
There is an …
31. al
Rhythm: Race, Sex, and t
Great variety and quick transi-
tions from one measure or
tone to another are contrary to
the genius of the beautiful in
music. Such transitions often
excite mirth, or other sudden
and tumultuous passions; but
not that sinking, that melting,
that languor, which is the
characteristical effect of the
beautiful, as it regards every
sense.
Edmund Burke
The Red Hot Chil! Peppers are putting
the three most important letters back
into FUNK, taking the piss out of the
32. idiots who forgot what it was for in the
first place and are being censored left,
right and centre because of it.
"From our viewpoint it's impossible to
ignore the correlation between music
and sex because, being so incredibly
rhythmic as it is. It's very deeply corre-
lated to sex and the rhythm of sex, and
the rhythm of your heart pounding and
intercourse motions and just the way it
makes you feel when you hear it. We try
to make our music give you an erection."
Melody Maker
Everyone seems agreed, the music's lovers and leathers alike,
that
rock and roll means sex; everyone assumes that this meaning
comes with the
beat. I don't, and in.this chapter I suggest mat if rock does
sometimes mean
sex it is for sociological, not musicological reasons. (And
besides, as the Red
Hot Chili Peppers' casual male chauvinism makes clear, in this
context sex is
33. an essentially sociological sort of thing, anyway.) Deliberately
misreading the
Chili's point, then, I will start this chapter with the concept of
fun.
"Fun" can only be defined against something else, in contrast to
the
"serious" and the "respectable," and in musical discourses the
opposition of
"serious" and "fun" sounds (the aesthetic versus the hedonistic)
involves both
a moral-cum-artistic judgment and a distinction between a
mental and a
physical response. In classical music criticism, "fun" thus
describes concerts
which are not the real thing—benefit or charity shows, the Last
Night of the
Proms; the critical tone is a kind of forced, condescending
bonhomie: "it was
just a bit of fun!" In pop criticism "art" and "fun" define each
other in a
running dialectic—if 1970s progressive rockers dismissed first
Motown and
then disco as "only" entertainment, 1980s progressive popsters
saw off rock's
pretensions with the tee-shirt slogan "Fuck Art, Let's Dance!"3
As I noted in Chapter 2, the equation of the serious with the
mind and
fun with the body was an aspect of the way in which high
culture was
established in Europe and the United States in the nineteenth
century. John
34. Kassan quotes Mark Twain's description of the audience "at the
shrine of St.
Wagner" in Bayreuth: ,
Absolute attention and petrified retention to the end of an act of
the
attitude assumed at the beginning of it. You detect no movement
in
the solid mass of heads and shoulders. You seem to sit with the
dead
in the gloom of a tomb. You know that they are being stirred to
their
profoundest depths; that there are times when they want to rise
and
wave handkerchiefs and shout their approbation, and times
when
tears are running down their faces, and it would be a relief to
free
their pent, emotions in sobs or screams; yet you hear not one
utter-
ance till the curtain swings together and the closing strains have
slowly faded out and died.4
Twain then watched the audience burst into "thunderous
applause"
Other observers, more ideologically correct Wagnerians,
claimed that even
after the performance there was just intense silence. Such
complete physical
' control—or mental transportation?—did not become a classical
concert con-
vention (orchestras would be dismayed to get no applause at the
end of a
show), but the denial of any bodily response while the music
plays is now
35. taken for granted. A good classical performance is therefore
measured by the
stillness it commands, by the intensity of the audience's mental
concentration,
by the lack of any physical distraction, any coughs or shuffles.
And it is equally
important, as we have seen, to disguise the physical effort that
goes into
classical music-making—-Wagner kept the orchestra hidden at
Bayreuth, and
"from early in his career ridiculed those who enjoyed 'looking at
the music
instead of listening to it,"'5
A good rock concert, by contrast, is measured by the audience's
physical
response, by how quickly people get out of their seats, onto the
dance floor,
by how loudly they shout and scream. And rock performers are
expected to
revel in their own physicality too, to strain and sweat and
collapse with
tiredness. Rock stage clothes (like sports clothes) are designed
to show the
musician's body as instrumental (as well as sexual), and not for
nothing does
a performer like Bruce Springsteen end a show huddled with his
band, as if
he'd just won the Super Bowl. Rock acts conceal not the
physical but the
technological sources of their sounds; rock audiences remain
uneasy about
musical instruments that appear to require no effort to be
played.
36. The key point here, though, is that the musical mind/body split
does not
just mark off classical from rock concert conventions; it also
operates within
the popular music domain. When rock (or jazz) acts move into
seated concert
halls, for example, it is often to register that the music is now
"serious," should
now be appreciated quietly. (I sometimes suspect that it is at
such sit-down
shows—for Leonard Cohen, say, or the Cure, or P. J. Harvey—
that one best
gets a sense of what the mid-nineteenth century battles over
classical concert
behavior were like, as the listening and the dancing sections of
the crowd get
equally annoyed with each other, and as the attendants struggle
to keep
everyone seated.) The underlying contrast here between
listening with the
mind and listening with the body is well captured by
photography: the
classical audience rapt, the rock audience abandoned; both sorts
of listener
oblivious to their neighbors, both with eyes shut and bodies
open, but the
classical listener obviously quite still, the rock listener held in
the throes of
movement.6
The question that interests me in this chapter, then, is how the
musical
mind/body split works. Why is some music heard as physical
(fun), other
music as cerebral (serious)? Is there nothing of the mind in the
former?
37. Nothing of the body in the latter? And in approaching these
questions the
first point to make is that just as "sin" is defined by the virtuous
(or would-be
virtuous), so fun (or music-for-the-body) is, in ideological
practice, defined
in contrast to serious music, music-for-the-mind. The Red Hot
Chili Peppers'
crude equation of musical pleasure, rhythm, and sex derives, in
short, from
a high cultural argument.
The musical equation "of aesthetic/mind and hedonistic/ body is
one
, effect of the mental/manual division of labor built into the
Industrial Revo-
lution, and into the consequent organization of education.7 In
the mid-
nineteenth century this was mapped onto the original Romantic
dichotomy
between feeling and reason: feelings were now taken (as at
Bayreuth) to be
best expressed spiritually and mentally, in silent contemplation
of great art
or great music. Bodily responses became, by definition, mind-
less. ."The
.brain," wrote Frank Howes in the British Journal of Aesthetics
in 1962, is
associated with art music; "brainlessness" with pop. Popular
music, agreed
Peter Stadler, is music requiring "a minimum of brain
activity."8
For Stadler, this isn't necessarily to devalue popular music,
which (thanks
38. to its rhythms) may well be sexy and humorous; jazz, in
particular, he
suggests, gives us direct access to bodily sensation; it is not a
music that has
to be interpreted, it is not a music that has to be thought about.9
A decade
later Raymond Durgnat celebrated rock in much the same way,
as a music
which in its use of rhythm was immediately, gloriously,
sensual.10
The meaning of-popular music is being explained here by
intellectuals
who value (or abhor) it because it offers them a different
experience from
art music. A telling example of such a celebration of otherness
carj be found
in Guy Scarpetta's description of going with friends from the
French art and
music magazine Art-Press to see Johnny Halliday, the rock 'n'
roll singer,
perform in Nice. For these self-conscious intellectuals, the
"flagrant" pleasure
of the show began with the opportunity to slough off their class
distinction,
to identify with their generation, but what most struck these
young men
about this particular experience of "encanaillement" (or
slumming) was the
corporal presence of the music. Scarpetta heard in rock "une
intensite or-
ganique, une force pulsionelle," saw in Halliday "une
fantasmatique directe-
ment sexuelle." This was not something on offer from the
39. essentially
"conceptuel" Parisian avant-garde of the time—Halliday's
performance was
"fun," in short, because it stressed the physical pleasure of
music in ways
repressed elsewhere; for Scarpetta and his friends it articulated
something
otherwise forbidden.11
Two points emerge from this passage. First, it describes a
musical expe-
rience which can only be understood in high cultural terms (it
tells us nothing
of what Halliday's low-class fans made of his music). The
organization of
high culture in terms of bourgeois respectability has meant,
inevitably, the
identification of low culture with the unrespectable (and
obviously, in insti-
tutional terms, while high art took its nineteenth-century place
in the secular
temples of gallery, museum, and concert hall, low music
continued to be
associated with the bodily pleasures of the bar and the
brothel).12 By the
beginning of this century, in other words, low music was both a
real and a
fantasy site for casting off bourgeois inhibitions.
The second point here concerns race. In 1922, forty years before
Johnny
Halliday's Nice concert, another French avant-garde
intellectual, Darius Mil-
haud, was taken by a friend to a Harlem "which had not yet
40. been discovered
by the snobs and the aesthetes." As Bernard Gendron explains,
"in a club in
which 'they were the only white folks' he encountered a music
that was
'absolutely different from anything [he] had ever heard before.'"
This surprising experience moved him from an exclusively
formalist
and experimentalist preoccupation with jazz to one tempered by
a
strong interest in its lyricism and primitivism. Such "authentic
mu-
sic," he was sure, had "its roots in the darkest corner of negro
soul,
the vestigial traces of Africa." It is in this "primitive African
side,"
this "savage" "African character," "still profoundly anchored" in
black
North American music, "that we find the source of this
formidable
rhythmic, as well as of such expressive melodies, which are
endowed
with a lyricism which only oppressed races can produce."
Milhaud starkly contrasted the archaic lyricism of negro blues
with
the hyper-modernity, worldliness (la mondanite), and
mechanical-
ness, of white jazz.13
There is, indeed, a long history in Romanticism of defining
41. black culture,
specifically African culture, as the body, the other of the
bourgeois mind.
Such a contrast is derived from the Romantic opposition of
nature and
culture: the primitive or pre-civilized can thus be held up
against thf sophis-
ticated or over-civilized—one strand of the Romantic argument
was that
primitive people were innocent people, uncorrupted by culture,
still close to
a human "essence."14
It's important to understand how this argument works, because
it lies at
the heart of claims about rock, rhythm, and sex. The logic here
is not that
African music (and African-derived musics) are more
"physical," more "di-
rectly" sexual than European and European-derived musics.
Rather, the ar-
gument is that because "the African" is more primitive, more
"natural" than
the European, then African music must be more directly in
touch with the
body, with unsymbolized and unmediated sensual states and
expectations.
And given that African musics are most obviously different
from European
musics in their uses of rhythm, then rhythm must be how the
primitive, the
sexual, is expressed. The cultural ideology produces the way of
hearing the
music, in short; it is not the music which gives rise to the
42. ideology. Or, as
Marianna Torgovnick puts it, "within Western culture, the idiom
'going
primitive' is in fact congruent in many ways with the idiom
'getting physi-
cal.'"15
I can best illustrate this argument by quotation: the histories of
both jazz
and rock 'n' roll are littered with such racist readings. The
Bloomsbury art
critic Clive Bell, for example, complained in the New Republic
in 1921 about
the people "who sat drinking their cocktails and listening to
nigger b a n d s . . .
Niggers can be admired artists without any gift more singular
than high
spirits: so why drag in the intellect?" For Bell, as D. L.
LeMahieu notes, jazz
represented a rebellion not only of "the lower instincts," but of
"an inferior
race" against European "civilization."16
In France after World War I, wrote the ethnographer Michel
Leiris, a
newly adult generation ("the generation that made Josephine
Baker a star")
colluded in "an abandonment to the animal joy of experiencing
the influence
of a modern rhythm . . . In jazz, too, came the first public
appearances of
Negroes, the manifestation and the myth of black Edens which
43. were to lead
me to Africa and, beyond Africa, to ethnography."17 In the
United States, as
Lawrence Levine writes, "jazz was seen by many
contemporaries as a cultural
form independent of a number of the basic central beliefs of
bourgeois
society, free of its repressions, in rebellion against many of its
grosser stereo-
types. Jazz became associated with what [Aaron] Esman has
called the Vital
libidinal impulses . . . precisely the id drives that the surperego
of the bour-
geois culture sought to repress.'" Young white musicians were
attracted by
jazz because it seemed to promise cultural as well as musical
freedom; it gave
them live opportunity "to be and express themselves, the sense
of being
natural"™ '
Ted Gioia has shown how these strands of white thought about
black
music—as instinctive, as free—became entangled in jazz
criticism. The
French intellectual ideology of the primitive, the myth of the
noble savage,
meant that jazz was heard as a "music charged with emotion but
largely
devoid of intellectual content," while the jazz musician was
taken to be an
"inarticulate and unsophisticated practitioner of an art which he
himself
scarcely understands." (As late as 1938 Winthrop Sergeant
could write that
"those who create [jazz] are the ones who know the least about
44. its abstract
structure. The Negro, like all folk musicians, expresses himself
intuitively.")
At the same time, young white musicians (and fans) had their
own reasons
for asserting that jazz was quite different from art music:
"cerebral" became
a term of jazz critical abuse ("energy" the contrasting term of
praise). Robert
O'Meally notes that John Hammond, for example, objected to
Billie Holiday's
work after "Strange Fruif'.as "too arty." Holiday herself "felt
that she had
finally begun to discover herself as a singer."19
Gioia notes that the underlying body/mind split here—the
supposed
opposition of "inspired spontaneous creativity" and "cold
inlellectualism"—
makes no sense of what jazz musicians do at all. All music-
making is about
the inind-in-the-body; the "immediacy" of improvisation no
more makes
unscd'red music "mindless" than the immediacy of talking
makes unscripted
speech somehow without thought. Whatever the differences
between African-
and European-derived musics, they cannot be explained in terms
of African
(or African-American) musicians' lack of formal training, their
ignorance of
technical issues, their simple "intuition" (any more than what
European
musicians do can really be described as non-physical).
The matrix of race, rhythm, and sex through which white critics
45. and fans
made ideological sense of jazz was just as important for the
interpretation of
rock 'n' roll. As Charles Shaar Murray writes in his illuminating
study of Jimi
Hendrix:
-" The "cultural dowry" Jimi Hendrix brought with him into the
pop
market-place included not only his immense talent and the years
of
experience acquired in a particularly hard school of show
business,
but the accumulated weight of the fantasies and mythologies
con-
structed around black music and black people by whites,
hipsters
and reactionaries alike. Both shared one common article of
faith:
that black people represent the personification of the
untrammelled
id—intrinsically wild, sensual, dangerous, "untamed" in every
sense
of the word.20
And Linda Martin and Kerry Seagrove's study of "the opposition
to rock 'n'
roll" shows how appalled 1950s observers automatically equated
the rhythm
of rock 'n' roll with savagery of various sorts, whether they
were moralists
like the Bishop of Woolwich ("the hypnotic rhythm and wild
gestures in [Rock
Around the Clock] had a maddening effect on a rhythm-loving
age group"),
high musicians like Sir Malcolm Sergeant ("nothing more than
46. an exhibition
of primitive tom-tom thumping ... rock 'n' roll has been played
in the jungle
for centuries") or Herbert von Karajan ("strange things happen
in the blood-
stream when a musical resonance coincides with the beat of the
human
pulse"), or psychologists like Dr. Francis J. Braceland, director
of the Institute
of Living, who explained that rock 'n' roll was both
"cannibalistic and tribal-
istic." The various strands of the argument were brought
together in an
editorial in the academic Music Journal in February 1958.
Adolescents were,
it seemed, "definitely influenced in their lawlessness by this
throwback to
jungle rhythms. Either it actually stirs them to orgies of sex and
violence (as
its model did for the savages themselves), or they use it as an
excuse for the
removal of all inhibitions and the complete disregard of the
conventions of
decency."21
The academic witnesses who lined up against rock 'n' roll
(historians and
anthropologists, psychologists and music analysts) conflated a
number of
different arguments about rhythm and the primitive. "Experts
Propose Study
of 'Craze,'" ran a rock 'n' roll headline in the New York Times
on February
23, 1957, "Liken It to Medieval Lunacy, 'Contagious Dance
Furies' and Bite
of Tarantula." A Dr. Joost A. M. Meerlo, Associate in
47. Psychiatry at Columbia
University, explained that, as in the late fourteenth century,
there was now a
"contagious epidemic of dance fury." He himself had observed
young people
moved by a juke box to dance themselves "more and more into a
prehistoric
rhythmic trance until it had gone far beyond all the accepted
versions of
human dancing."
Why are rhythmical sounds and motions so especially
contagious? A
rhythmical call to the crowd easily foments mass ecstasy:
"Duce!
Ducel Duce!" The call repeats itself into the infinite and
liberates the
mind of all reasonable inhibitions . . . as in drug addiction, a
thou-
sand years of civilization fall away in a moment . . . Rock 'n'
roll is
a sign'pf depersonalization of the individual, of ecstatic
veneration
of mental decline and passivity. If we cannot stem the tide with
its
waves of rhythmic narcosis . . . we are preparing our own
downfall
in the midst of pandemic funeral dances. The dance craze is the
infantile rage and outlet of our actual world.22
The primitive in music (rhythm), the primitive in social
evolution (the
medieval, the African), and the primitive in human development
(the infan-
tile) are thus reflections of each other. In the words of the
48. psychoanalyst
Heinz Kohut, "the rocking of disturbed children and of
schizophrenics, and
the ecstatic rites of primitive tribes" are thus equally examples
of the "regres-
sive" function of rhythm. From a psychoanalytic perspective,
people's pleasure
in music is clearly "a catharsis of primitive sexual tension under
cover." Under
cover, that is to say, of melody and harmony. "The weaker the
aesthetic
disguise of such rhythmic experiences," the less "artistic" the
music.23
Eric Lott suggests that in the United States, at least, what may
be at issue
here in terms of racial ideology is not so much the infantile as
"the state of
arrested adolescence . . . to which dominant codes of
masculinity aspire . . .
These common white associations of black maleness with the
onset of pu-
bescent sexuality indicate that the assumption of dominant
codes of mascu-
linity in the United States was (and still is) partly negotiated
through an
imaginary black interlocutor."24
And if "black culture in the guise of an attractive masculinity"
was "the
stock in trade of the exchange so central to minstrelsy," it was
equally essential
for the use value of rock 'n' roll. As Bernard Gendron has
argued, "the claim
that rock and roll brought real sexuality to popular music is
usually under-
49. stood to be related to the claim that it brought real blackness,"
and from this
perspective it certainly does seem "reasonable to place [Jerry
Lee] Lewis's
'Whole Lotta Shakin' in the tradition of black-faced minstrelsy."
"If 'Whole
Lotta Shakin' was to succeed in advertising itself as white-boy-
wildly-sings-
black, it had to do so quickly and simply. The result had to be a
coarsely
outlined cartoon of what it means to sing black. That is, the
result had to be
a caricature."25
The racism endemic to rock 'n' roll, in other words, was not that
white
musicians stole from black culture but that they burlesqued it.
The issue is
not how "raw" and "earthy" and "authentic" African-American
sounds were
"diluted" or "whitened" for mass consumption, but the opposite
process: how
gospel and r&b and doo-wop were blacked-up. Thanks to rock
'n' roll, black
performers now reached a white audience, but only if they met
"the tests of
'blackness'—that they embody sensuality, spontaneity, and
gritty soulful-
ness." 26 As Gendron writes:
The black pioneers of rock and roll were also driven to produce
caricatures of singing-black. Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and
Ray
Charles . . . quite radically changed their styles as their
audience
50. shifted from predominantly black to largely white. Though all
three
began their careers by singing the blues in a rather sedate
manner
(at least by rock and roll standards), they later accelerated their
singing speed, resorted to raspy-voiced shrieks and cries, and
dressed
up their stage acts with manic piano-pounding or guitar
acrobatics.
According to rock and roll mythology, they went from singing
less
black (like Nat King Cole or the Mills Brothers) to singing more
black. In my judgement it would be better to say that they
adopted
a more caricaturized version of singing black wildly, thus
paving the
way for soul music and the British invasion.27
The problem of rock and roll arguments about rhythm and sex
(the
arguments still made by bands like the Red Hot Chili Peppers)
is not just
their racist starting point, but also their confusion about what's
meant by
rhythm, by musical rhythm in particular. The assumption that a
musical
"beat" is equivalent to a bodily beat (the heartbeat, the .pulse)
doesn't stand
up to much examination (why isn't musical regularity compared
to mechani-
cal repetition—neither metronomes nor clocks are thought to
rouse their
listeners to a frenzy).
There is equally little evidence that Western readings of African
rhythmic
51. patterns as "sexual" have anything at all to do with their actual
use, musical
or otherwise. As John Miller Chernoff points out, "African
music and dance
are not performed as an unrestrained emotional expression."
They are, rather,
ways of realizing aesthetic and ethical structures. "Ecstatic" is,
in fact, the most
inappropriate adjective to apply to African music: "The feelings
the music
brings may be exhilarating but not overpowering, intense but
not frenzied.
Ecstasy as we see it would imply for most Africans a separation
from all that
is good and beautiful, and generally, in fact, any such loss of
control is viewed
by them as tasteless, ridiculous, or even sinful."28
In her study of African oral poetry, Ruth Finnegan notes
similarly that
"cultural factors help to determine what is appreciated as
'rhythmic' in any
given group or period: it is not purely physical." If some oral
poetry is bound
up with a regular physical action (as in a work song),
nevertheless "the
rhythmic movements are accepted by current convention rather
than dictated
by universal physiological or material requirements." As
Maurice Halbwachs
52. once put it, "Rhythm does not exist in nature; it, too, is a result
of living in
society."29 -
The point here seems so obvious that it's surprising that it still
has to be
made: musical rhythm is as much a mental as a physical matter;
deciding
when to play a note is as much a matter of thought as deciding
what note to
play (and, in practice, such decisions are anyway not
separable).30 In analyzing
the differences between African and European musics, then, we
can't start
from a distinction between body and mind; that distinction,
while now an
important aspect of musical meaning, is ideological, not
musicological.
What are the alternatives? One common analytic strategy is to
rework
the nature/culture metaphor in terms of the simple and the
complex: African
music is simple, European music is complex. There is an
obvious evolutionary
claim here: European music, it is implied, was once simple
too—that's what
we mean by "folk music." Tims, although this argument may not
be biologi-
cally racist (blacks as "naturally" more rhythmic than whites), it
remains
historically racist: African cultures, it seems, haven't yet
53. "advanced" to the
European level. In short, the association of the rhythmic with
the primitive
is retained: simple music is music driven by rhythmic rules;
music becomes
"complex" when it is concerned with melodic and harmonic
structure.
Lawrence Levine notes a particularly lucid statement of the
combined
musical and social assumptions of this attitude in a 1918 issue
of the New
Orleans Times-Picayune. There were, the paper suggested,
"many mansions
in the houses of the muses." There was the "great assembly hall
of melody,"
where "most of us take our seats." There were the "inner
sanctums of
harmony" where a lesser number enjoyed "truly great music."
Finally, there
was, "down in the basement, a kind of servants' hall of rhythm.
It is there we
hear the hum of the Indian dance, the throb of the Oriental
tambourines and ,
kettledrums, the clatter of the clogs, the click of Slavic heels,
the thumpty-
tumpty of the negro banjo, and, in fact, the native dances of the
world."31
The different pleasures offered by the musically "simple" and
the musi-
54. cally "complex" are, then, still being related to differences
between body and
mind. Leonard Meyer suggests that "the differentia between art
music and ;
primitive music lies in speed of tendency gratification. The
primitive seeks
almost immediate gratification for his tendencies whether these
be biological
or musical." Meyer's definition of "primitive" here refers to
music that is "dull
syntactically" rather than to music "produced by non-literate
peoples," but it
is difficult not to read the familiar equation of musical, social,
psychological,
and racial infantility into an assertion like the following:
One aspect of maturity both of the individual and of the culture
within which a style arises consists then in the willingness to
forego
immediate, and perhaps lesser gratification. Understood
generally,
not with reference to any specific musical work, self-imposed
ten-
dency-inhibition and the willingness to bear uncertainty are
indica-
tions of maturity. They are signs, that is, that the animal is
becoming
a man. And this, I take it, is not without relevance to
considerations
of value.32
55. Musicologists themselves have criticized the simple/complex,
African/
European distinction in two ways. Some accept Meyer's broad
descriptive
terms but reverse his evaluative conclusions—the spontaneous,
human ex-
pression of African communities contrasts positively with the
alienated ra-
tionalism of the European …
The Cinematic Rhetorics of Lynching
in Jordan Peele’s Get Out
JENNIFER RYAN-BRYANT
T
HE PERIOD OF AMERICAN HISTORY BETWEEN THE END
OF THE CIVIL
War and the height of the Civil Rights Movement was
marked by intense, unrelenting racist violence in many parts
of the country. People of color not only faced discrimination in
employment, housing, healthcare, education, and access to
public
facilities, but they also negotiated daily threats to the very fact
of
their existence. These threats sometimes took the form of
lynching, a
type of mob violence that sought to punish individuals for
unsub-
stantiated crimes without trial, jury, or consequence for the
perpetra-
tors themselves. W. Fitzhugh Brundage calls lynching “a
57. 92
http://crossmark.crossref.org/dialog/?doi=10.1111%2Fjpcu.1287
8&domain=pdf&date_stamp=2020-03-01
NAACP executive secretary Walter White and educator Mary
McLeod Bethune, articulated the steps necessary to achieve real
social
change.
Today, we face another crisis in American identity, civil rights,
and self-expression brought about by reactionary political
conser-
vatism and ongoing revocations of civil rights. While these
reversals
have been tempered to a degree by social activism, broad-based
pro-
gressive views, and existing laws, many people also see social
media
and popular culture as key forums for public resistance. Jordan
Peele’s 2017 directorial debut Get Out represents a popular
culture
vehicle whose message specifically opposes public violence,
recurring
instances of hate speech, and regressions in social policy. This
film,
marketed to commercial audiences as another entry in the horror
cate-
gory, in fact presents a comprehensive view of the conflicting
perspec-
tives on racial identity that define twenty-first-century
American
social politics. In the movie, Peele constructs a paradigmatic
example
of a lynching narrative in which a black man is targeted by a
58. group
of wealthy white people intent on robbing him of his
individuality,
intelligence, and life. The film’s protagonist, Chris Washington,
finds
himself the target of a planned lynching, though his greatest
offense
is only his decision to date the daughter of Dean and Missy
Armi-
tage, a white couple who live on an imposing country estate in
Westchester County, New York. His innocence is easy to
recognize;
he says goodbye to his dog before leaving his apartment for the
week-
end, he seems anxious to please his girlfriend, Rose, and he
carries
with him only a suitcase and the main tool of his profession, a
Canon
camera. However, these seemingly neutral elements, coupled
with his
gentle personality, already signal the film’s imbrication in the
histori-
cal realities of lynching: as Wells herself pointed out back in
1895,
the vast majority of lynchings were staged to target black men
who
were innocent of the sexual assaults with which they had been
charged. The white perpetrators of lynchings, she notes, argued
that
“Negroes had to be killed to avenge their assaults upon women.
There could be framed no possible excuse more harmful to the
Negro
and more unanswerable if true in its sufficiency for the white
man”
(224). After tabulating the reasons given for the 159 recorded
victims
59. of lynching in 1893 as one telling example, Wells points out
that
thirty-nine had been accused of rape, eight of “attempted rape,”
four
of “alleged rape,” and one of “suspicion of rape” (235): fifty-
two out
Cinematic Rhetorics of Lynching 93
of 159, or 33 percent. However, the majority of these victims
had
been guilty of nothing more than an interracial relationship: in
Wells’s words, “With the Southern white man any m�esalliance
exist-
ing between a white woman and a colored man is a sufficient
founda-
tion for the charge of rape” (225). Chris’s temperament and
occupation portray him from the beginning of the film as a non-
threatening individual. Yet, the unmistakable fact of his
blackness,
set next to the “flower of white Southern womanhood” that
Rose’s
name implies,
1 lays him open to social condemnation before the
opening credits roll.
Peele acknowledges the violent national history that has defined
American race relations in Chris’s and Rose’s personal traits
and in
their weekend destination—which Chris’s best friend, Rod, has
warned him against, stating that “You never take my advice . . .
Like don’t go to a white girl’s parents’ house” (Get Out). While
viewers are meant to interpret Rod’s statement here as an
60. unneces-
sary caution, particularly given its hyperbolic tone and actor Lil
Rel
Howery’s real-life popularity as a comedian, his reference to
the dan-
gers of interracial romance that haunted earlier periods in
American
history will resonate in the film’s later scenes. At the same
time,
Peele ensures that the narrative Chris inhabits is fluid enough to
accommodate and even promote several different types of
opposi-
tional strategies. As a horror story, the film includes several
recog-
nizable elements, including a central protagonist whose death
seems
likely for much of the time, a physical threat that is revealed
slowly
to viewers, and an extended scene of conflict between the
protago-
nist and the forces trying to kill him. Jody Keisner points out
that
many recent horror movies are aligned with postmodernist
thought
because “they push viewers to consider their own notions of
what is
real” by depicting an existence that we can see is in some way
simu-
lated (416). This challenge to reality fosters an attitude of
general
ambivalence toward the possibility of survival in such films;
while
the characters are usually able to adapt some part of their
environ-
ment to serve as a means of defense, the danger facing them is
by
61. no means resolved at the end.
In Get Out, Jordan Peele explores this ambivalence by invoking
both familiar horror movie tropes and the social context of
Ameri-
can racism in the 2010s. As he stated in an interview with
NPR’s
Terry Gross, “every true horror—human horror, American
Horror—
94 Jennifer Ryan-Bryant
has a horror movie that deals with it and allows us to face that
fear
and—except race, in a modern sense, hadn’t been touched. You
know, it really hadn’t been touched, in my opinion, since Night
of
the Living Dead 50 years ago [and] maybe with the film
Candyman.
And that, to me, I just saw a void there.” Horror works
particularly
well as a genre through which to explore the ambiguities of
racial
representation since, because of its reliance on sustained tension
and
jump scares, it functions as a “space of exception, where
paranoia is
always founded, though its object may be misrecognized”
(Jarvis
102). In creating such a “space of exception,” the film’s
narrative
structure relies upon three types of rhetoric, or three means by
which Peele establishes connections with his audience through
care-
62. fully chosen symbols used in meaningful, though not
necessarily
transparent, ways (Renegar and Malkowski 51). The three types
of
rhetoric that Peele employs—aural, visual, and linguistic—both
por-
tray the threat of lynching that Chris faces and articulate the
possi-
bilities open to him for resistance. Upon an initial viewing of
the
film, audience members might think that its horror exists
primarily
in his sense of entrapment, in the fact that he has found himself
the
unwitting object of selfish and bloodthirsty desires. A more
careful
screening reveals, though, that the horror really emerges from
the
accumulation of these three types of rhetoric, the piling of one
threat on top of another until Chris himself cannot tell which
aspects of his situation he is reading correctly and which are
magni-
fied through fear or misdirection. In order to examine the
threats
that are posed to Chris and to apprehend his opposition to them,
this essay analyzes three key aspects of the movie: its
soundtrack, or
aural rhetoric; characters’ repeated use of animal metaphors, a
visual
technique; and the linguistically innovative phone conversations
that
Chris holds with Rod. In each of these cinematic elements, we
see
Chris both facing an immediate danger and gaining knowledge
about how to defend himself. These rhetorical devices function
ambivalently, containing both the problem of lynching in
63. America
and its potential solution—just as today’s actively resistant
political
climate not only signals a groundswell of opposition to white
supre-
macy but also exists in large part because of our country’s
current
pattern of relentless violence.
Cinematic Rhetorics of Lynching 95
Aural Rhetoric and National Identities
The film starts with three songs that prepare the audience for
the
types of conflict that will define the story as a whole. In the
first
scene, a young black man walks a suburban street at night,
talking
on his cell phone. After he hangs up, a white car passes him,
makes a
U-turn, circles back, and stops next to him on the street. He
starts
walking faster, and British duo Flanagan and Allen’s 1939 hit
“Run
Rabbit Run” plays from the car’s speakers. As the man tries to
turn
away from the car, an assailant wearing a helmet strides on
screen
from the sidewalk, grabs him, chokes him, and drags him into
the
car. As the attacker shoves the victim into the trunk, Flanagan
and
Allen sing, “He’ll get by without his rabbit pie, / Just run,
64. rabbit,
run”; he slams the trunk shut and the music cuts off. Next, the
film’s
credits begin to roll, starting with the title in all caps. Over a
shot of
a forest behind the credits, a Swahili singer intones, “Sikiliza
Kwa
Wahenga,” which translates to “listen to your ancestors”; this
piece
was written by Michael Abels, the film’s music director. The
third
song in this sequence is the one perhaps best-known to its
viewers,
Childish Gambino’s “Redbone.” This song, which plays over
shots of
several professional photographs that Chris has taken, warns
listeners
to “stay woke” and advises, “Now don’t you close your eyes.”
In an
interview with GQ writer Caity Weaver, Jordan Peele notes that
he
“was into this idea of distinctly black voices and black musical
refer-
ences, so it’s got some African influences, and some bluesy
things
going on, but in a scary way, which you never really hear.
African
American music tends to have, at the very least, a glimmer of
hope
to it—sometimes full-fledged hope. I wanted Michael Abels,
who did
the score, to create something that felt like it lived in this
absence of
hope but still had [black roots].”
“Run Rabbit Run” is an example of mainstream white World
65. War
II-era music and lacks the “African influences” that Peele
discusses
here. Yet, its allusion to the “Brer Rabbit” stories sanitized for
white
audiences by folklorist Joel Chandler Harris, among others,
suggests
a kind of “absence of hope.” Although Brer Rabbit is a trickster
fig-
ure with West African roots, he often finds himself entangled
within
his own plots in modern American versions of the stories, and
the
form in which many Americans came to know him was through
Walt
96 Jennifer Ryan-Bryant
Disney’s famously racist cartoon Song of the South. In a
discussion of
Harris’s storytelling strategies, William Tynes Cowan labels
Brer
Rabbit a “slave cognate” who “unleashes his frenetic energy
upon
stronger animals whom he defeats with his wit and cunning.”
Brer
Rabbit’s actions are defined by opposition, but Harris frames
every
instance of his “cunning” in the voice of Uncle Remus, whose
passive
acceptance of slavery undermines the characters’ potentially
subversive
acts (Cowan 170). The forms of resistance in which such a
“rabbit”
66. participates, therefore, may only make him vulnerable to harm.
The
title “Run Rabbit Run” also alludes to earlier, more insidiously
racist
American texts. The Norton Anthology of African American
Literature
includes an undated rhyme entitled “Run, Nigger, Run” that
starts,
“Run, nigger, run; de patter-roller catch you” (24). This poem’s
structural and rhetorical resemblance to the Flanagan and Allen
tune
is unmistakable; its use of a racist epithet in place of the Brer
Rabbit
moniker points to the violent origins of much post-
Reconstruction
popular culture. The phrase also recalls the dream that
motivates the
narrator of Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man to pursue a more
subversive
approach to survival after several earlier attempts at
assimilation have
failed. After receiving a college scholarship and leather
briefcase from
a drunken gathering of local businessmen, the narrator dreams
that
his grandfather—whose own seditious tendencies were only
revealed
on his deathbed—has given him “an engraved document
containing a
short message in letters of gold.” It says, simply, “To Whom It
May
Concern . . . Keep This Nigger-Boy Running” (Ellison 33). The
nar-
rator’s grandfather recognizes that he will be chased by the
threat of
white racist violence throughout his life; he uses the phrasing of
67. a
popular jingle in order to spur his grandson on to actions that
could
undermine social persecution. Peele’s use of “Run Rabbit Run”
evokes both the history of white repression and the possibility
of
resistance.
The other two songs that open Get Out offer, in contrast, access
to a repository of specifically black cultural concepts. Stephen
Hen-
derson labels such culturally defined terms “mascon” words, or
“mas-
sive concentration[s] of Black experiential energy” (44).
According to
Henderson, mascon words “have levels of meanings that seem to
go
back to our earliest grappling with the English language in a
strange and hostile land” and “carry an inordinate charge of
emo-
tional and psychological weight.” Some key examples of
mascon
Cinematic Rhetorics of Lynching 97
words include “jazz,” “jelly,” “funk,” and “blues”; these terms,
which
each possess several different meanings and resonate in diverse
con-
texts, “form meaningful wholes in ways which defy
understanding
by outsiders” (Henderson 44). “Sikiliza Kwa Wahenga,” the
song
that invokes Chris’s ethnic heritage by reminding him—and the
68. viewers—to listen to the ancestors, provides an essential
example of
a mascon phrase. The song, which contains the lyrics “run far
away”
and “save yourself ” (Bowen), signals both to Chris and to
informed
viewers that Swahili possesses social power and that his cultural
her-
itage may protect him from threats within his current
environment.
Peele notes that he wanted “something we hadn’t experienced
before”; Abels created a “hybrid” piece that sounded to the
director
“like a demonic Negro spiritual” (Gray 22). Setting the stage for
the conflicts to come, this tune accompanies the film’s title and
is
heard three more times during scenes of heightened dramatic
inten-
sity. It first recurs about half an hour into the movie, when
Chris,
staying overnight at the Armitages’ country house, goes out
after
bedtime for a cigarette and runs into Missy in the living room.
She
insists on hypnotizing Chris to rid him of his smoking habit; she
stirs a spoon rhythmically in her teacup until Chris’s eyes widen
and tears stream down his face. He remembers the rainy night
on
which his mother died in a car accident as he seems to fall,
terrified,
into a black gulf that Missy labels “the sunken place.”
2 In order to
underline the scene’s emotional intensity, “Sikiliza” plays in
the
background, accelerating until Chris wakes up in bed.
69. Although “Sikiliza” does not appear again until the end of the
film, it ultimately signals Chris’s triumph over racist
conditions. The
tune accompanies his attempt to flee from the family in the
film’s cli-
max, when he realizes they mean to use his young, fit body as a
receptacle to house an older white man’s brain. After escaping
from a
basement room in which Dean and Rose’s brother, Jeremy,
meant to
operate on him, Chris runs through the kitchen and dining room,
where he spots Missy. She lunges for her teacup, intending
perhaps to
hypnotize him again, but he knocks it onto the floor, where it
shat-
ters. “Sikiliza” rises in volume in the background as Missy stabs
Chris
in the hand with a letter opener; he grapples with her,
attempting to
strangle her. This interaction provides a key example of the
film’s
ambivalent representations of social traits historically
associated with
lynching scenes. Though Chris has successfully subdued the
threat of
98 Jennifer Ryan-Bryant
irrational white violence that the entire Armitage family
represents,
he has done so at a great personal cost: as an educated person,
he
knows that he risks confirming the stereotypical view of black
70. bes-
tiality that generations of racists used to justify vigilante
attacks on
blacks. Brundage cites, for instance, a widespread belief among
white
Southerners in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries
that
“blacks, particularly those members of the new generation
unschooled
in appropriate behavior by slavery, were retrogressing into
savagery”;
as a result, “the myth of black criminality was (and indeed
remains)
resistant to change” (53). In the present day, Chris has avoided
being
murdered but only by resorting to a type of physical violence
that
might recall that myth. “Sikiliza” also provides the background
to
his flight from the house at the end of the movie. After Chris
has run
away from the house and down the long driveway, Rod shows
up in
his TSA cruiser to save the day. As he and Chris drive away, the
car’s
lights flashing, the song accompanies their only in-person
conversa-
tion and plays over the final credits. In each of these
moments—the
opening credits, the hypnotism scene, the struggle for Chris’s
life,
and his ultimate escape—“Sikiliza” reminds viewers of the
cultural
strength that underlies Chris’s actions but also indicates that he
must
rely on himself in the end.
71. Although Childish Gambino’s “Redbone” is only heard once
dur-
ing the film, it serves a similar cautionary function. After the
first
iteration of “Sikiliza” behind the film’s opening credits,
“Redbone”
accompanies a series of photographs seemingly taken by Chris.
These
three photographs appear before the film’s primary action
begins, yet
their subjects anticipate the kinds of tension that define the
narrative.
In the first photograph, a black man in a black jacket and pants
walks
down a city street, carrying an enormous bunch of white
balloons
whose misshapen shadow shows up clearly against the building
next
to him; the second features a close-up of a dark-skinned
woman’s
pregnant belly, as, in the background, a man in a white T-shirt
walks
away from her toward a group of apartment buildings; and the
third
focuses on a man in a baggy jacket and jeans struggling to hold
onto
a white dog’s chain in a litter-strewn yard as the dog strains to
break
free, its tail pointed straight out and its muscles clearly outlined
against its skin. These pictures remind us of Chris’s
professional sta-
tus, his insight into the social world, and the struggles between
opposing forces that inspire his creativity. In terms of their
visual
72. Cinematic Rhetorics of Lynching 99
structure, the photographs’ compositions rely upon contrasting
shapes, sizes, light sources, and shadows. These disjunctions
under-
score the friction that defines the photographs, each of which
captures
the moment before some urgent action will take place: birth,
flight,
or escape. These themes are conveyed subtly through the three-
photo-
graph sequence, but they establish the actions that Chris will
have to
take later on in order to survive. The lyrics to “Redbone” that
under-
score these photographs signal Chris’s urgent need to “get” and
remain “woke.” His creative work suggests that he already
possesses a
keen perception of society’s profound imbalances, but now he
has to
put his intuition to practical use.
This three-song sequence—“Run Rabbit Run,” “Sikiliza,” and
“Redbone”—offers the film’s first example of the oppositional
and
even contradictory rhetorics that structure its message. People
of
color are under attack by white forces that intend not just to
incapac-
itate but to repurpose their bodies and minds. Peele argues that
Chris
has the resources with which to counter these attacks but, in
keeping
with both a long tradition in horror film and the current
73. political cli-
mate, the film’s ultimate message remains ambivalent. Will
these
resources be enough, in the end, to prevail against persistent
white
treachery? The film ends with a second three-song sequence that
does
not provide any clear answer. First, we see Rose in her room,
sitting
on her bed with her laptop, listening to the Bill Medley and
Jennifer
Warnes song “I Had the Time of My Life” on a Walkman. This
song,
which Rose enjoys while dressed in a white button-down shirt,
drink-
ing white milk and searching for “NCAA prospects” on Bing,
soared
in popularity after appearing in the 1987 film Dirty Dancing.
The
lyrics begin, “Now, I’ve had the time of my life” but progress,
in the
sixth stanza, to “Don’t be afraid to lose control” (“Bill
Medley”).
Instead of contemplating the romantic relationship that these
words
imply, Rose surveys the pool of potential victims for her family
to
incapacitate. Next, “Run Rabbit Run” plays again from Jeremy’s
car
as Chris climbs in to escape from the Armitages; this reiteration
con-
firms that Jeremy was the masked hunter who captured the
solitary
man in the first scene. Finally, “Sikiliza” provides the film’s
final
auditory reminder of cultural identities and clashes. Although
74. Rose’s
family has been vanquished by this point, there is no telling,
these
songs imply, what other white families may already possess the
knowledge to sustain their genocidal traditions.
100 Jennifer Ryan-Bryant
Visual Rhetoric: Beasts Among Us
In addition to the film’s use of music, Peele organizes several
key sce-
nes around images of animals. This imagery both evokes
popular
racist discourse and allows Chris to challenge directly some of
the
social conventions associated with public lynchings. While
Chris and
Rose are driving on the highway to her parents’ house, for
instance,
Rose’s car is struck by a deer. The camera is positioned to one
side of
the scene so that the deer appears to fly or to be thrown across
the
road before striking the car, rather than running into it. The
deer
knocks off the passenger-side mirror next to Chris before falling
into
the woods at the side of the road; it can be heard groaning in
pain
from off-screen. After they arrive at their destination, they
describe
the incident to Rose’s parents, and Dean asserts, “I say, one
down, a
75. couple hundred thousand to go . . . They’re like rats. They’re
destroy-
ing the ecosystem. I see a dead deer on the side of the road, I
think
to myself, ‘That’s a start’” (Get Out). Though this deer is not
targeted
by hunters, its abrupt death and unlamented life recall vigilante
approaches to violence. Dean’s comments demonstrate a lack of
humane feelings toward animals in general as well as his belief
that
he has the right to want to wipe out entire populations like so
much
vermin.
The one full day that Chris spends at the Armitage home
includes a garden party that the family hosts every fall. The
gather-
ing at first appears fairly innocuous—involving the arrival of
several
primarily white, wealthy, elderly people in a caravan of black
cars—
but the conversations that take place quickly reveal the
participants’
true attitudes and motivations. At one point, Chris and Rose
join a
white couple in conversation; the husband says, “Fairer skin has
been in fashion for what? A couple hundred years? But now the
pendulum has swung back. Black is in fashion” (Get Out). After
pro-
cessing this casual dismissal of cultural experience and identity
in
silence, Chris leaves the group to take some photographs and
encounters Logan King, the party’s only other black attendee.
When
Chris is asked how he feels about being African American, he
turns
76. to Logan and says, “Yo, my man. They were asking me about
the
African American experience. Maybe you could take this one.”
Logan, who moves slowly and awkwardly, and is accompanied
by a
Cinematic Rhetorics of Lynching 101
white woman at least thirty years his senior, observes, “I find
that
the African American experience for me has been, for the most
part,
very good. Although I find it difficult to go much into detail as
I
haven’t had much of a desire to leave the house in a while.”
Sur-
prised at his reticence, Chris snaps a picture with his cell
phone;
Logan’s mouth trembles, tears fill his eyes, and blood begins to
drip
from his left nostril. Chris tries to apologize, but Logan moves
toward him, grabs his shirt, and starts shaking him, yelling,
“Get
out! Get outta here! Get outta here!” (Get Out).3 Missy and
Dean
move quickly to quiet Logan and troubleshoot the scene,
attributing
Logan’s outburst to anxiety and a potential seizure. However,
Chris
will not accept this explanation; he recognizes Logan from
some-
place he cannot yet identify and is disturbed by the family’s
ready
willingness to handle him as they would an unruly animal. He
77. and
Logan remain on display throughout this scene, observed by a
large
group of white attendees who make no move to participate in
the
conversation but seem fascinated by their behavior.
Chris’s apprehension about both his own social status and
Logan’s
identity is reinforced by a conversation he has with the family’s
black
housekeeper. When he finds that she has unplugged his phone
so that
it has lost its charge, she apologizes: “How rude of me to have
touched your belongings without asking.” “It’s cool,” Chris
responds,
“I wasn’t trying to snitch.” The housekeeper is puzzled:
“Snitch?” she
asks. “Rat you out,” he explains. She moves her head to one
side,
thinking, then says, “Tattletale. Oh, don’t you worry about that.
I
can assure you, I don’t answer to anyone.” As he did with
Logan,
Chris tries to form a bond with her, noting sympathetically that
“All
I know is sometimes, if there’s too many white people, I get
nervous,
you know?” To his surprise, her smile slowly fades, her lips
begin to
tremble, and tears spill from her eyes as she forces a laugh and
shakes
her head from side to side, saying, “Oh. Oh. No. No. No, no, no,
no.
Aren’t you something? That’s not my experience. Not at all.
The
78. Armitages are so good to us. They treat us like family” (Get
Out).
The animal metaphor that Chris employs here recalls Dean’s
earlier
comments about the deer, a population whose worth he feels
entitled
to judge. Like Logan, the housekeeper seems trapped in her
situation
at the Armitages’, able to voice only a contentment that her
physio-
logical reactions belie. The conversation that she has with Chris
reveals her “rat”-like sense of entrapment.
102 Jennifer Ryan-Bryant
The …
PARAPHRASING
1. Reread the original passage until you understand its full
meaning.
2. Set the original aside, and write your paraphrase on a note
card.
3. Jot down a few words below your paraphrase to remind you
later how you envision using this material. At the top of the
note card, write a key word or phrase to indicate the subject of
your paraphrase.
4. Check your rendition with the original to make sure that
your version accurately expresses all the essential information
in a new form.
79. 5. Use quotation marks to identify any unique term or
phraseology you have borrowed exactly from the source.
6. Record the source (including the page) on your note card so
that you can credit it easily if you decide to incorporate the
material into your paper.
Use your sources as support for your insights, not as the
backbone of your paper. A patchwork of sources stuck in a
paper like random letters in a ransom note does not a research
paper make.
If do you use a direct quote, the explanation should be twice as
long as the quote. Readers have to know why you include source
material where you do.
Here are some possible signal phrases:
* According to Jane Doe, "..."
* As Jane Doe goes on to explain, "..."
* Characterized by John Doe, the society is "..."
* As one critic points out, "..."
* John Doe believes that "..."
* Jane Doe claims that "..."
* In the words of John Doe, "..."
acknowledges, adds, admits, affirms, agrees, argues, asserts,
believes, claims, comments, compares, confirms, contends,
declares, demonstrates, denies, disputes, emphasizes, endorses,
grants, illustrates, implies, insists, notes, observes, points out,
reasons, refutes, rejects, reports, responds, states, suggests,
thinks, underlines, writes
80. 1. Do not overuse quotations. Follow this pattern:
a. Assertion. Make some argument or sub-argument about
the text(s).
b. Quotation. Quote, with context, a word, phrase, line or
passage that supports
that (sub)argument.
c. Commentary. Comment on the quotation, directly
engaging with the
language within the quotation and explaining how it supports
your assertion.
2. Avoid “floating quotes.” The style of your writing will be
better if you incorporate quoted phrases into your own structure
rather than writing a sentence and then quoting a sentence or a
poetic line.
3. Always work your quotation comfortably into your own
sentence structure.
4. Longer quotations (more than four lines of prose) should be
set off from your paragraph's usual display form: single-spaced
and centered without quotation marks. This longer form is
called a block quote.
7. If, for clarity or sentence structure, you must alter a
quotation, use brackets to indicate the change(s).
8. If you omit material in order to be succinct, mark the
omission by three periods (ellipsis) with a space between each (.
. .).
NOTE: There is no need to use these routinely at the beginning
and end or your quotations; it is understood that you are lifting
passages from a longer work.
81. “US” Film Analysis Worksheet
Description of the plot in chosen scene
Describe sound and/or music and/or silence in scene
(see Yale site)
Describe visuals in the scene (color, camera angle, lighting,
foreground/background)
(see Yale site)
Meaning Statement
related to descriptions
Support from scholarly source
on related topic
(quote and pg#)
1. Fill in film( "Us" 2019 American horror film ) analysis sheet
2. Based on the film worksheet analysis , build a paragraph of
analysis on "Us".
3. According to incorporating quotations, go back to the
paragraphs of Analysis essay ( "The Raft").Find one of them
and fix it.
4. 5 min free-write
read the intro (pp. 92-95 of Jpcu12878) As you read, identify
what is happening in each paragraph of the intro in terms of the
4 D's and also identify the thesis. Is the thesis in stages? How
82. do the authors dole out background information throughout the
intro to prepare the reader for what the article does?
When you get to the end of the intro do you feel you know
exactly what the article will cover and argue?
5. 1 page reading summary of (Firth 1996 and Szatmary 2004)