Labor Day Blues

 

Subscribers to this blog will notice that I’m late with the Friday edition. That’s because I get depressed as Labor Day rolls around.

 

Since 1882, Labor Day has traditionally been a holiday to honor the American labor movement. May Day is often celebrated in other lands, but its association with democratic socialism didn’t play well in the U.S. where too many people think socialism is a synonym for communism.*

 

Labor Day’s end-of-summer date was first chosen for its closeness to the birthday of Uriah Stephens, the founder of the Knights of Labor. Don’t believe the nonsense that the first celebration was organized by New York City’s Central Labor Union; that mistake gets repeated because many people confused  Mathew Maguire with P. J. McGuire. Matthew was a socialist and P(eter) J. was a mover and shaker in the American Federation of Labor, which was for skilled workers which came to oppose the all-inclusive Knights of Labor. In addition, several cities had protest parades before the September 5, 1882, New York event often cited as the first Labor Day parade.  

 

I wrote three books on the Knights, but that’s not why I’m depressed. By academic training, I am a labor historian. I used to teach the history of the American labor movement, but by the end of the 1980s, it was fair to ask: “What movement?” I eventually began to call myself a historian of the working class, but that begs another question: “Who you calling working class?”

 

I categorically honor brave union members toiling to make things better for their comrades. The problem is that they aren’t enough followers and there is no strong federation of unions to make a political dent. Today the largest federation is the AFL-CIO with about 15 million total members across 60 unions. That’s deceptive, though, as it counts retired members. Moreover, an AFL-CIO political endorsement is about as useful as a lawn sign. It is a bureaucratic paper tiger ignored by constituent members. A whopping sixty percent of Teamsters voted for Trump in 2024, as did a majority of steelworkers, longshoremen, and fire fighters–a pattern that repeats in most unions that are male-dominated.

 

Let’s go a step deeper. Under 10 percent of Americans belong to a union of any sort. In 1960, nearly a third of workers (32 %) were unionized. As late as 1983, it remained 20 percent, but Ronald Reagan led the charge to decertify unions and the numbers have fallen ever since. Today’s numbers are even weaker when we break them down. Of the 9.9 percent, one third are government employees–assuming Trump hasn’t fired them all. The largest (2.2 million) are teachers’ unions, followed by trainees, and librarians. If we look to the private sector, fewer than six percent are organized and if you really want dire numbers, just 2.7 percent of individuals having anything at all to do with retail are unionized. Belonging to a union is often more pro forma than proactive. Teachers, for instance, are often legally forbidden to strike and 27 states have right-to-work laws, meaning a teacher can’t be forced to join a union and one can be fired for just about anything. Adding insult to injury, in most right-to-work states union members can be assigned to train those who might replace them.

 

Why do workers put up with this? The right-to-strike isn’t protected much anymore, so a lost job could mean financial hardship. Yet, 163 million Americans work, a number with the potential to bring most employers to their knees. That’s if, they aren’t lulled into consumerism submission by a barrage of commercials, tricked by wily ideologues, or convinced they are impotent. Note the old union banner above. Raise your hand if you work only eight hours a day, have eight to pursue what you wish, and get eight hours’ sleep. Yeah, right! That fight entails seeing one’s self as a member of the working class, but tell me the last time you even heard that term. U.S. = middle class right? Nope! Using objective economic date, 60 percent of all workers fail to meet middle-class standards.

 

No wonder Labor Day depresses me.

 

Rob Weir

 

* For the record, few American organizations were as virulently anti-communist as democratic socialists, whose idea of working-class heroes is more in the Eugene Debs/Bernie Sanders mold than Lenin or Mao.

 

 

Great Disasters: A Powerful Novel

 

 

 

Great Disasters (2025)

By Grady Chambers

Tin House/Norton, 256 pages.

★★★★

 

Have you ever hung out with a group of people throughout high school and felt so close to them that you assumed you’d be BFF? If so, you probably won’t be surprised when I assert that it usually doesn’t work out that way. That’s one meaning of Great Disasters, the debut novel of Grady Chambers, who has hitherto been known mostly as a poet. A second meaning is that alcohol abuse was a central feature of the friendship between the six boys/young men from middle school until middle age. Third, our narrator and central character, Graham Katz, has trouble maintaining connections to anyone by the time he reaches adulthood.

 

Chambers’ novel follows seven Chicago area individuals: the handsome but brash Ryan, his girlfriend Jana who is a ballet dancer, David who comes from wealth, Eduardo known as Caesar because of his love of pizza, Ben whose desire to improve the world gained the nicknames of “Club Kid” and “Greenpeace,” Neil, and Ricky. The six boys were all hockey players though one wonders how, as they were so often drunk. I don’t mean weekend binges, I mean toasted more times than they are sober. They drink in homes, at parties, at get aways, on the beaches of Lake Michigan, at hockey camp….

 

Although each will spend time away from Chicago–Ryan will serve in Afghanistan–one of the more interesting parts of Great Disasters is that the characters observe many of the nation’s disasters–9/11, Desert Storm, antiwar demonstrations, the housing bubble, recession, Trump’s election–away from the Eastern Seaboard. Insofar as Graham is concerned, Obama’s election is about the only thing that brought him joy. Put another way, in this coming of age novel, Graham has trouble doing so. He always thought that Ryan and Jana had a love that would endure forever, though he and his buddies sometimes did stupid stuff that jeopardized it. For the most part, Graham is sullen and perhaps suffers from OCD; he is the pessimist to his parents’ hopeful activism, messes up a research grant, and is bored with his post-college job. From high school on he has a string of girlfriends, none of whom are more important than drinking.

 

Here's another experience that you might have had. Did you ever get together with old friends and try to rekindle old times? Maybe get drunk or high and rehash old battles and memories? Of course, come Monday morning there are jobs, spouses, kids, perhaps an interview or a report that the boss needs. Such a weekend takes place on Long Island at one of David’s homes, a phrase that tells you his life has changed dramatically. Several friends, including Ryan, have gone through AA programs. His life is still complicated, but he too is married and has kids to consider. Graham is a writer, but for all intents and purposes, he is stuck in the past.

 

This is a very good novel, though it must be said that Chambers’ release suffers from bad timing. By this I mean that though set ups and circumstances are different, it bears similarities to Fredrik Backman’s My Friends. It’s very hard to tread upon even tangentially similar themes and compete with Backman, especially given Backman’s mastery of leavening humor to offset challenging material. Chambers’ novel certainly showcases comparable comradery, but given that Graham is akin to Peter Pan, the little boy who refuses to grow up, there is a tragic tinge to Great Disasters.

 

Two small glitches. It seems like a cop out to make Graham to narrator and alleged novelist of the same story. I also think the novel could have been benefitted from losing a character or two. This is especially the case given that Neil and Caesar have thin stories, whereas Graham’s high school girlfriend Sam(antha) has a bigger role than either of them.

 

Chambers is a gifted writer who takes us inside Graham’s confused mind, but Graham is also a hard character to like at times. Great Disasters is pegged as a novel about enduring friendship, but that’s not how I read it. If anything, it’s about testosterone poisoning and the destructive power of alcoholism. It’s a powerful work, but I’d recommend you leave a gap between reading Backman and Chambers, It would be another “disaster” to miss this one.

 

Rob Weir

 

#GreatDisasters #NetGalley

The Search for Folk Art

Folk Art

 

Once upon a time folk art was dismissed as stuff made by “savage” or “uneducated” people. These days it fetches high prices at auctions and lots of rich people collect it. Truth be known, many of the latter display it as if it is rustic artifacts or as examples of how broad-minded they are.

 

Once money enters the equation, definitions begin to get hazy and the art is reduced to its value on the open market. Luckily folklorists and cultural anthropologists  are decades ahead of a curve they were once eons in back of. The same is true for museum curators. “Folk art” has replaced terms such a “primitive,” “naïve,” or “untrained.” Yet, most museums tend to display just a few pieces of American folk art and things produced abroad–especially in Africa, the Arctic, the Indian subcontinent, or Oceania–are tucked into special galleries that are more focused on ethnography than artistic achievement.

 

There are only a handful of museums in the United States devoted mostly to folk art. My favorite on the East Coast is Vermont’s Shelburne Museum. But you can find bits and pieces in lots of places if you know what to look for, though whether or not it’s folk art of handicraft is often open for debate. (Aren’t most things these days?)

 

Look for these tendencies:

 

1. Folk art is usually unique and hand-crafted. It is seldom reproduced.

 

2. It often uses unusual materials such as glass bottles, bark, barnboard, and found materials.

 

3.  Much of it has (or once had) a utilitarian purpose. Think of decoys, painted canoes, quilts, weathervanes, and whirligigs. Ditto carved canes, handmade furniture, samplers, baskets, corn brooms, and carved wooden spoons.

 

4. Folk art is usually specific to a particular community, ethnic group, tribe, or tradition. For example, “hex” signs were common among the Pennsylvania Dutch, certain fiddle styles (and carved instruments) were more common in Appalachia than elsewhere, and Amerindian art varies by tribe and region.

 

5. It’s no longer a necessity, but folk art tends to be by those with little or no training in the so-called “fine arts.” Folk artists tend to violate expectations such as perspective, relative size, and perspective even when their intent is not abstraction. This often makes it whimsical or gives it a charming child-like appearance. If, for instance, you look at a Grandma Moses painting, you’ll see what I mean.

 

6. Many folk artists were taught by others within their community. They focus more on tradition within that community than what outsiders may think of it. Think of it as either useful or as community art.

7. Know, however, that all the definitions are contentious. Will Moses, for instance, is the great grandson of Anna Mary Robertson Moses. He paints in her style. In my mind, he is a copyist not a folk artist, but many think he is. So-called “outsider art” is sometimes labeled folk art. Again, I disagree–mainly because the attempt to be different is so often a solo pursuit, the formal training of the artist often shines through, and their community credentials are fuzzy.  These, however, are my views and others disagree.

 

Here's a sampling of this summer’s folk art finds. I excluded the Shelburne Museum because its collection is too rich!

 

From the Fennimore Museum (Cooperstown NY)

 

 

Congo, ritual mask

Quilts and painted figure

 

 

Two labor-themed paintings by Ralph Fassanella

 

St. Johnsbury, VT Athenaeum 

 

Russell Grisley painting of Horace Fairbanks on barn boards

 

 

The Argument T.W. Woods (note proportions) 

 

Tribal Art Oceania Metropolitan Museum of Art NYC

 

   

First Nations Art Ottawa, Canada

 

 

 

 

        

Sewer art, Holyoke