For many of us our first introduction to political philosophy was Plato's Apology. In this dialogue Socrates gives an account of his way of philosophizing. Disillusioned by his efforts to acquire knowledge from his study of the heavens, Socrates sought knowledge by examining opinions on those matters that are most important to human beings, such as justice. It is the examination of opinion that is the beginning of philosophy. The poets are among the most important of Socrates's interlocutors, for they reflect and shape opinion. In the spirit of Socrates Paul Cantor interrogates the works of contemporary American poets who work in the medium of film and television in order to better understand the American political tradition.
Paul Cantor is Clifton Waller Barrett Professor of English at the University of Virginia. Although he is well regarded as a literary critic and for his scholarship on Shakespeare, Professor Cantor is also well known for his writings on popular culture, including Gilligan Unbound: Pop Culture in the Age of Globalization, which the Los Angeles Times named one of the best books of 2001. Cantor distinguishes himself from other scholars by his disposition to popular culture. Much of the scholarly work being done on popular culture is in the field of cultural studies and assumes a Marxist perspective. Films and television merely serve capitalism by promoting consumption and propagating the ideological justification for the market economy. As Cantor explains in the preface to The Invisible Hand in Popular Culture, other scholars “treat culture as a realm of unfreedom, dwelling on the constraints under which would-be creative people necessarily operate” (xvi). As a consequence, these scholars look to popular culture not in order to learn from it, but to critique it. In contrast, Cantor argues that American capitalism has offered great freedom to creative people and many have flourished by writing and producing smart, complicated films and television shows. Those films and television shows can teach us about the matters most important to us, including the nature of American liberty.
The Invisible Hand in Popular Culture consists of essays on popular culture that Professor Cantor has written during the past ten years. All but two of the essays were previously published, but have been substantially revised, even rewritten for this volume. So, readers who have liked his work on South Park and The X-Files will find new insights in the chapters devoted to these television shows. Although the collection of essays is not a systematic or comprehensive account of popular culture, the essays are unified by the broad theme of freedom. Part 1 of the volume is devoted to Westerns, The Searchers, Have Gun–Will Travel, and Deadwood. In these essays, Cantor reflects on the Western in the light of canonical texts. For example, Cantor beautifully illuminates The Searchers by considering its similarities to Aeschylus's Oresteia. His “aim is to take the Western out of the trash-culture ghetto to which it is too often assigned” and to remind us that “at their best, Westerns tell basic human stories and explore fundamental human problems” (29), particularly the challenge of establishing order while maintaining human freedom. In part 2 of the volume, Cantor points to a libertarian strain in American popular culture by considering three examples: Mars Attacks!, The Aviator, and South Park. Each one celebrates antiestablishment or antiauthority figures, suggesting that Americans are better off acting on behalf of themselves than taking direction from experts. Part 3 of the collection is devoted to Edgar Ulmer's films. Although the themes of these essays are less explicitly political and the section does seem like a departure from the first two, the essays are also concerned with freedom, namely, the limits of an artist's creative freedom amid the social forces that seem to thwart creativity. And, finally, in part 4 Cantor examines popular culture in the wake of September 11 and in a context of globalization. Cantor looks to popular culture to ponder the dilemmas of our time: “In the face of international terrorism, do Americans have to sacrifice some of their cherished freedom―especially traditional civil liberties―in order to be protected against new threats to social order?” This last section serves as a good bookend to the first, as the films and television shows weigh similar questions as the Westerns in a contemporary context.
Political theorists have much to gain from reading The Invisible Hand in Popular Culture. Cantor notices that popular films and television shows are often examining the same themes as the best works of Western political philosophy. In some cases, such as The Searchers, the similarities are perhaps unknown to the writers and producers. In others, the writers and producers are self-consciously exploring the themes of Western philosophy. In his essay “Order Out of the Mud: Deadwood and the State of Nature,” Cantor demonstrates how the writer-producer of Deadwood, David Milch, creates the South Dakota mining camp as a way to examine the political philosophies of Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Deadwood's precarious civil society allows Milch to bring to life the subtleties of each philosopher's account of how order is established. Not only does Cantor impart to his readers a greater appreciation of popular culture, but he leaves his readers with a fuller understanding of the philosophies under consideration. And those who consider the dusty old books of Western political philosophy no longer relevant in our media-driven age—some undergraduates, let's say—are led by Cantor to recognize their continued importance.
Cantor's study of popular culture reminds political theorists that there are many and various, often unlikely, occasions for political philosophy. Cantor admits that Mars Attacks! is a “cheesy flying saucer movie” and that he was initially disappointed by it despite being a fan of its producer, Tim Burton. Yet Cantor recognizes that the film levels an important critique against the scientific and governmental experts that govern the American people. The final stand against the Martians takes place in Las Vegas, a city of unparalleled tackiness, but the playground to ordinary Americans. Joined by Tom Jones, “the quintessential common man's entertainer” (157), those ordinary Americans work together to defend themselves against the Martians. In contrast, the scientific and political elite prove to be self-serving and incompetent. The “cheesy flying saucer movie” redeems itself by examining the nature of American democracy and the pretensions of experts to rule.
The Invisible Hand in Popular Culture demonstrates Socrates's wisdom in turning his gaze from the heavens to the city. We have much to learn from our contemporary poets working in the medium of film and television.
