This afternoon I went to see Dave Meslin’s Fourth Wall exhibit, a gallery of ideas on improving civic engagement in Toronto, drawn from other cities around the world and our own history.
One of the most fantastic historical tidbits comes from the no-longer-extant Bureau of Municipal Research, a non-partisan organization that researched and produced reports about various city issues. This little pamphlet is from 1921. Mez has scans (page 1, page 2), but I wanted to transcribe it for accessibility’s sake.
Effective Citizen Co-Operation
What Is Everybody’s Business Should Be Each Body’s Business
Issued by the Bureau of Municipal Research
189 1/2 Church Street, Toronto.
Telephone: Main 3620
Bulletin No. 84, January 7, 1921
Will 1921 Be A New Year In Civic Administration
Will It Be the Same Old Year With a New Number?
Would the adoption of some of the following New Year’s Resolutions Make for More Effective Civic Administration?
For a Member of Council or Board of Education
I will not speak on any subject unless I know something about it, and I will learn something about any subject on which I should speak.
When I have said all I have to say of value on any subject I will stop talking.
I will always confine myself to the subject on which I am speaking, and will not resort to personalities, no matter what the provocation, nor talk to the gallery, nor conceal my real sentiments in order to retain votes.
I will keep my mind on the work in hand rather than keep my ear to the ground for tremors of dissatisfaction from interested quarters.
I will vote on every measure that comes before the Council or Board, if necessary requesting the postponement of the vote until any required information may be obtained. I will not retire to the members’ room on the approach of a vote which I should like to avoid for personal or political reasons.
In all my statements to constituents and colleagues, my yea shall be yea, and my nay, nay.
I will treat the funds of the city as trust funds, and shall not suffer any of them to be appropriated, without vigorous protest, for objects not in the general public interest, no matter what the effect on my political fortunes may be.
In dealing with the annual estimates, I will consider the best interests of the city as a whole, and will not resort to log-rolling, overt or tacit, and I will consider carefully the recommendations and statements of the official financial advisers of the city.
Except in cases where the public interest requires it, I will protest against the conduct of any public business in private, either through the holding of private meetings or surreptitious meetings of cliques or factions to decide upon a course of action to be taken in public.
I will speak and vote this year at the risk of it being my last year in Council or on the Board.
I will not vote to upset the recommendations of any department head until such department head has been given every opportunity to defend his recommendation and, in my judgment, has failed to do so satisfactorily. Neither will I consent to any action being taken on matters requiring technical advice until such advice has been requested and obtained from the departments concerned.
For a Citizen
During 1921 I will occasionally drop a note of commendation, commiseration or condemnation to my representatives in Council or on the Board of Education.
I will not regard the interests of my ward above the interests of my city, and will not bring pressure on aldermen or trustees to secure special treatment for my ward or locality which would not be a benefit to the city as a whole.
I will not ask Council to suspend by-laws for my personal advantage when it would involve a disadvantage to the city as a whole, nor will I support others in asking for such special treatment.
In determining my actions as a citizen, I will obtain all the information possible, and then make up my own mind without outside dictation, on the ground that I shall be one of those who suffer in case of a mistake.
I will study the estimates of the city as they pass through the various stages of amendment and adoption.
I will try to do as much thinking about civic expenditures to which I contribute as about my private expenditures for services not paid for through the tax rate.
I will not condone the brow-beating or contemptuous treatment of civic officials, while trying to protect the city’s interests, by any of my elected representatives, even if I may think such officials are mistaken.
I will allow the results of my observations to affect my course when the times for nomination and election come around at the close of the year.
I will be a citizen during 1921, not a parasite or mollusk, or piece of blotting paper.
Do you think the current City Council has been living up to these New Year’s resolutions? Would they agree to be bound by them in 2012? And how well are we doing at the whole mollusk thing?
James Blish, Black Easter (1968) and The Day After Judgement (1971)
So it’s a Cold War Earth pretty much like our own once was, except magic (in the grimoire tradition) is totally real and this one guy hires a sorcerer to loose a whole bunch of demons into the world for one night, just to see what happens. (I’m getting the sense that believable motivations are not James Blish’s strong point.) Naturally, it backfires and brings about the end of the world. In the second book, this guy and his buddies take a road trip to Hell, and shit gets cosmic. This may have already become one of my favourite books. More substantial post later, hopefully.
Iain M. Banks, The Player of Games (1988)
Yes! I finally started reading the Culture novels! In this one, our gamer hero (a totally cis straight guy, an anomaly in the Culture) goes to a barbaric brutal empire to play the Ultimate Game. It feels like a good entry point into the series, as the Empire of Azad is relatively Earthlike and so Gurgeh’s outsider viewpoint allows for indirect exposition about the Culture. However, I’m looking forward to reading novels that take place wholly in the Culture to see how Banks does compelling stories in a post-scarcity, post-all-those-plot-generating-bad-things society.
Brent Hayward, The Fecund’s Melancholy Daughter (2011)
It’s science fiction in a fantasy mode full of unsympathetic characters and machine intelligences and stuff! It’s like Gormenghast crossed with a classic generation ship story! Theoretically I should have loved this, and while I think Hayward did some truly masterful world-building, flitting through a dizzying variety of viewpoints and cultures while creating a very distinct cohesive feel, said world, for me, wasn’t all that fun to spend time in. It’s so unrelentingly dirty and grotesque and downtrodden that I feel like I should take a shower afterwards and read something fluffy and shiny. Perhaps his debut Filaria will be more to my taste.
It would make a pretty kick-ass videogame, though.
A Case of Conscience is a weird little book from the 50’s. It’s aged badly. It holds together well in the sense that when I began imagining what would have to be changed for the story to make sense, I had to give it up because the end product would have been unrecognizable.
If you’d like a synopsis, see Wikipedia; for an insightful review of A Case of Conscience I refer you to Jo Walton’s review. If you’d like to read my disjointed, pop-culture-saturated ramblings, click through.
“[The Prophet Tarrant’s vision] was threefold,” he said at last. “One: To unify man’s faith, so that millions of souls might impress the fae with the same image in unison. Two: To alter man’s perception of the fae—to distance him from that power—thus weakening the link which permitted it to respond to him so easily. This meant a god who wouldn’t make appearances on demand, nor provide easy miracles. It meant hardship and it meant sacrifice. But he believed that in the end it would save us, and permit us to regain our technological heritage. Three: To safeguard man’s spirit while all this was taking place, so that when at last we cast off the shackles of this planet and rejoined our kin among the stars, we wouldn’t discover that in the process we had become something other than human. Something less than we would want to be.” […]
“So what happened?” she pressed.
“Humankind learned the lesson too well. Because if man could create a true God in his own image, why couldn’t he create an obliging godling with even less effort? What you worship shall come to exist, the Prophet wrote. The power of your faith will give your dreams substance. And so it was. A thousand selfish men designed their own prayers and their own psalms and gave birth to a thousand godlings, each feeding on man while serving his earthly desires. Even as the Church grew in strength, this trend continued, until there were over a hundred tiny states with their own pet deities, their own claim to power. So we went to war: man’s final recourse when diplomacy fails him. It was a disaster. Oh, if it had been a clean and glorious conflict, filled with images of faith and capped by a clear-cut victory, it might have stirred men’s hearts and won them to our side. It wasn’t. It was a bloody mess that spanned three centuries, and it ended only when we bit off more than we could chew and tried to do battle with the fae itself—or rather, with the evil the fae had spawned. Our power base destroyed, our precious image sullied, we crept back to our churches and our pews to lick our wounds in private.”
“We do what we can, Hesseth. We still serve the same dream, but defeat has taught us patience. We no longer see the Prophet’s vision as the end of a neat progression that’ll be consummated in our lifetimes, but an ideal state that may not be realized for centuries yet. For tens of centuries. Except here,” he whispered, and he glanced towards Toshida’s ship. “Isolated, unified, devout…they may have accomplished what the west failed to do. By establishing a state free of pagan influence, by raising their children in unquestioning faith…what power, Hesseth! It could alter the world. It may already have begun to.”
He stiffened at the sound of the name. “Cast out by his own creation,” he said sharply. “The Church knew that it would never alter the fae’s response to man until it had done away with private sorcery…and he couldn’t give that up. Not even to save his own soul.” He drew in a deep breath of cool night air, exhaled it slowly. “He tried to do away with Hell, you know. Excess philosophical baggage, he called it. Detrimental to our cause. He erased it from all the text, expunged it from the liturgy. They put it back. The habits of Earth were too deeply ingrained, the image of divine judgment too comforting for the righteous. In the end he lost that battle.” And so much more…
—C. S. Friedman, When True Night Falls (chapter 4)
X. recommended Friedman’s Coldfire Trilogy to me and I’m very glad I took her up on it. It’s an impressively thought through blend of science fiction and fantasy, and one of the most ambitious treatments of religion I’ve read in a while. Can’t wait to read the final volume to see if she’s really going to do what I think she’s doing.