Christopher Schroeder

Category: local

  • Like Lukewarm Leftovers

    I needed some time to adjust to Paul Kingsnorth’s (2025) latest book Against the Machine and found it useful but ultimately unsatisfying.

    Kingsnorth in a seeming synthesis of his thinking criticizes what he calls The Machine and offers what he considers ways to retain our humanity. He considers the emergence of this mindset, which he considers synonymous with the West, and specifically its exchange of place, people, the past, and prayer — the four Ps — for science, the self, sex, and screens, or the four Ss, before suggesting how to respond.

    In preparation, he suggests the interrelation of emotion and reason for example and laments the reported loss of a fan’s son to gender reassignment (62-63 and 168-169). He also reports some of his own reactions, such as relocating to the Irish countryside where he plays chess by candlelight and resisting the requirement whereby everyone owns a smartphone (111-113 and 304).

    He recommends near the end that readers resist the left-hemisphere approach of the modern mind and develop the ability to attend with the right-hemisphere, which conceives of the world not as a “mechanism” but rather an “organism” (268, 271). He also recommends technological self-control and “reactionary radicalism,” which rejects The Machine moral economy, and its colonization, and endorses one based upon “community bonds, local economies, and human-scale systems” (280).

    I appreciate the way Kingsnorth offers a larger context with his account of The Machine. He isn’t satisfied to concentrate on the challenges of artificial intelligence although he does offer an alarming one. Rather, he places digital technologies in a continuum of not just Enlightenment mentalities, the Industrial Revolution, or even the eleventh century Fen Tigers but also “a 1,500-year civilization” of “‘Christendom’” (5).

    Such an account is a useful reminder that all technologies emerge and evolve, and that this emergence and evolution are important aspects of understanding their effects and articulating informed responses. Even so, it seems to offer a somewhat selective account that ignores other arguably essential elements of this context.

    Digital technologies could be considered for example part of a larger history of technological development, which incudes the invention of literacy for example or farming, that enhances the abilities of humans to trust others and coordinate efforts (Wright 1999, e.g.). Such accounts needn’t ignore the costs Kingsnorth cites or even negate his recommendations, but these could avoid dismissing these developments as completely detrimental.

    Nonetheless, this book encouraged me to reconsider my perspective and defend these beliefs, which is certainly welcome and undeniably useful. Moreover, its account of the past and present could be correct, in which case humanity might be in much more trouble than I realize, or want to recognize.

    The problem as Kingsnorth admits is that he cannot prove his account although this challenge hasn’t prevented others from attempting to do so (e.g., Pinker 2011 or 2018). At such moments, a better option when offered a range of selections might be opting for a more appealing one, which might not be right but could be more motivating.

    That in the end might be the most useful part of this book. For example, it describes shatter zones, including online spaces where we can use The Machine tech to resist its colonization, and distinguishes between raw and cooked barbarians, or those who resist from outside or in-but-not-of The Machine (Kingsnorth 2025, 290-291 and 304-305).

    Kingsnorth suggests that cooked barbarians might discover one day that their limits cannot keep them from being poisoned. At such moments, they would have to look for sustenance outside The Machine if they want to live to fight another day.

    Such moments could also make some of us wonder whether we’ve been cooked too long.

  • Making the Most

    I can understand the appeal of Olga Dies Dreaming by Xochitl Gonzalez as the 2025 One Book One Chicago selection but nonetheless wanted more.

    This 2022 novel, which is Gonzalez’s first, tells the semi-autobiographical story of a wedding planner named Olga along with her politician brother Prieto as they confront in their adult lives an absent mother who prefers political activism and a late father who as an addict died from AIDS. It’s the first in what Gonzalez calls a Brooklyn trilogy — the second, which was published in 2024, is Anita De Monte Laughs Last, and the third, which will be released this spring, is Last Night in Brooklyn, and reportedly includes familiar characters, such as Olga’s boyfriend Matteo.

    Chicago Public Library Commissioner Chris Brown told the keynote event audience that Gonzalez is the first Puerto Rican author to be selected in the twenty-five years of the One Book One Chicago program, which is obviously appealing. Puerto Ricans, who initially came to Chicago from New York in the 1930s, have been central to the city (e.g., Barrio Borikén) and the country (e.g., the Young Lords).

    Gonzalez’s first novel definitely draws upon her ethnic identity, or at least her mother’s contribution — she is also Mexican-American from her father’s side although she was raised by her maternal grandparents. Gonzalez actually wanted to write a book about Puerto Rico and colonialism but decided to make such a book more accessible, and more appealing, as a novel.

    Another appeal could be the way it resembles at times a telenovela. Such stories, which might be less prominent in Puerto Rico than for example Mexico, can be widely found, and thus familiar. These telenovela conventions can be recognized in the lost-and-found love or the feuding-mothers-and-daughters themes for example or the fairytale-like ending for both Olga and Prieto.

    Both aspects for me are partly why I wanted more. Gonzalez, or her editor, seems unaware of the sections or scenes, such as the letters from Olga’s mother Blanca or a conversation between Olga and her ex-boyfriend Reggie, that seem more like political primers or even mansplaining. Moreover, the conclusion seemed too inconsistent, and too convenient, after conflicts confronted by Olga, Prieto, and others, such as Matteo.

    Other readers at least at the One Book One Chicago events I attended had more to say about these characters than the plot. None at one for example seemed to agree that this novel is an older woman’s coming-of-age story, which its publisher suggests is its primary appeal. Such an account would also be consistent with the title, and the allusion to “Puerto Rican Obituary” Olga, who “dies dreaming of a five dollar raise” in a powerful poem by Pedro Pietri.

    This Olga doesn’t die, but her evolution is unclear, and ultimately unbelievable. How mature was she if in late in the story she is willing to use her sexuality to exploit her wealthy, and ex-boyfriend, Dick to help Blanca’s political goals, especially when she knows about Matteo’s concerns about trust and abandonment? What happens after the assault that convinces her at the end to bail on her plan to snitch anonymously on her mother’s political activities?

    These limitations loom larger in the context of other characters, such as Olga’s Tita Lola who collaborates with Olga’s cousin Mabel to expose Blanca’s perfidy. So where was Tita Lola when Olga was relying upon Blanca’s surrogate, and best friend, Karen? And why wouldn’t Tita Lola have been at least some support for Prieto as he confronted his sexuality, especially when his secrets made him even more vulnerable?

    I would be more chagrined if my dissatisfaction were merely the quality of this selection, which would be embarrassingly stereotypical. Rather, I wonder about this selection in regards to the dual One Book One Chicago goals of enlightening Chicagoans and creating community.

    One enlightenment possibility could be the way that Olga and Prieto grapple with their diasporic cultural identity. Such syncretic identities based upon my observations can be quite complicated, and certainly relevant to many Chicagoans, and this novel could offer insights that never quite materialize. Neither however seems to understand even at its end what they think being Nuyorican means or even committed to continue coming to terms with it.

    Some readers I admit connected with this theme in this book. Several acknowledged in a discussion group I co-moderated for example that this selection made them think about resistance in South Korea from where they had emigrated. That however seemed less from anything in the book and more from the thoughtfulness these readers brought to it.

    Community I suppose can come from any shared reading with the right readers even if they agree on the limitations of such a text, which was certainly a minority opinion. At a discussion, my co-moderator gave it the highest rating for example while I offered a more middling one.

    I know that choosing a One Book One Chicago selection is challenging. I also believe that my collaboration with those who administer this program has been perhaps the most significant service in my opinion of my academic career, and something I hope to continue even after retiring.

    Perhaps that passion produces unrealistic expectations, which could be why this otherwise appealing selection seemed disappointing.

  • Sunnier Days Ahead?

    I’ve known for weeks that I need to make some difficult decisions about newspaper subscriptions.

    I currently have daily Chicago Sun-Times delivery, and also receive the Chicago Tribune on Sundays. I also prefer print versions although I’ll read the Tribune opinion articles on a tablet throughout the week.

    I had traded the New York Times for the Tribune soon after moving to Chicago more than twenty years ago. I switched to the Sun-Times in 2022 after it became a part of the Chicago Public Media.

    Since then, the Sun-Times has lost much of its allure. More journalists for example seem to be doing cross-over work for the CPM radio station. Also, it recently dissolved its editorial board, and stopped producing editorials, and has fewer op-eds, and some days none at all.

    At the same time, the Sun-Times informed me that it was increasing its cost. After that, I was spending more — $9.50 for the daily Sun-Times each week in contrast to $7 for daily Tribune delivery — although I was assured that it would reduce my rate to $7.70 / week, which only raises more questions about the ways the Sun-Times treats its subscribers.

    Both newspapers seem to be nudging readers to go digital. Those who wish to pay for their journalism for whatever reason will spend $7-$15 / month to support the Sun-Times or $5-$7 for the Tribune. (The difference is access to local coupons or events.) Both newspapers at the moment also seem to offer electronic versions of its print papers for free, which raises a different set of questions about the future of journalism more generally.

    Daily Sun-Times subscription in other words costs more for less, and both newspapers are available, and more affordable, online if subscribers read these in electronic format.

    The bigger problem for me is the future of journalism. The reason I switched several years ago to the Sun-Times was to support a public media approach. I had long been impressed by the work WBEZ does, and I hoped that would stabilize and even develop the Sun-Times, which could only be good for Chicago.

    Such an outcome would strengthen the future of two competitive newspapers, which could challenge each other for their coverage. Moreover, it could expand audiences, and even offer a counterbalance to the hedge fund that had purchased the Tribune in 2021.

    Since then, I’ve been underwhelmed by this merger, which seems to have been more challenging than expected. I realize that the recently rescinded federal funding hasn’t helped, but I had assumed that Chicago Public Media would expect such an outcome, which has been a conservative goal for many years.

    I also had hoped that CPM would have resisted a reactionary response and instead would have offered a more brazen and bold reimagination of its contributions to metro Chicago and American democracy. Such a response would have reassured current supporters and inspired new ones.

    Perhaps CPM is starting to realize what it should do. Its CEO Melissa Bell, who described this rescinded funding as a “sudden loss,” nonetheless lauded the Chicago community for replacing 86 percent with “recurring community support” and to pledge a future of “true financial stability,” and twice the members, based upon a “100% community -funded model,” one that is “stable” and “independent” as if it couldn’t have had such plans in place even before that funding crisis.

    I also donate monthly to WBEZ in addition to my Sun-Times subscription, which given its free digital access seems like a second monthly donation. At the same time, I like many must carefully consider my expenses, especially as inflation increases, especially now that I’ve retired.

    Chicago is better with a second daily newspaper, and legitimate competitor. I hope that Bell and other CPM leaders know what they’re doing.