Prolonged Applause Research Articles

"Irrespective of Race, Color or Sex:" Susan B. Anthony and the New York State Constitutional Convention of 1867

In the spring and summer of 1867, delegates to New York's fourth constitutional convention debated their state's policy on one ofthe most controversial questions ofthe day. Should blacks and women be granted the same voting rights as white men? In this letter, long time abolitionist and womeris rights activist Susan B. Anthony updates New York Republican State Senator and convention delegate Charles fames Folger on the campaign to make the state's constitution gender neutral on suffrage. Like many of Anthony's earlier and future political efforts, this one involved a painstaking door-to-door petition drive. At the convention, Anthony spoke out with her characteristic passion on the questions of black and female suffrage. When she was challenged by delegate Horace Greeley, influential editor ofthe New York Tribune, Anthony told him, My right as a human being is as good as any other human being. If you have a right to vote at 21 years, then I have. All we ask is that you should let down the bars, and let us women and Negroes in . Greeley's own newspaper reported that Anthony's declaration brought loud and prolonged applause. The suffrage debate at the New York constitutional convention hap pened at a time of national uproar over the same issue. The years af ter the Civil War were an era of bitter and often violent disagreements about how the U.S. would reconstitute itself economically, socially, and politically, and, in particular, what the relationship between the four million emancipated slaves and the nation would be. Emancipation did not lead easily or inevitably to voting rights. Black suffrage faced intense opposition from white southerners, and, indeed, from many white northerners. Even some of those who had been staunchly antislavery felt that black voting would be a far too radical change in the racial and

ILL group breaks new ground

A group of young ILL scientists presented the results of months of work to a packed amphitheater on December 19, 1999. Their presentation was received with prolonged applause, as were other presentations, during an evening meeting organized by, and featuring, Dirk Dubbers' secretary, Barbara Standke. The group of scien-tists comprised Ross Stewart (lead guitar, vocals and D7 instrument responsible), Andrew Wildes (tenor guitar, vocals and IN14 instrument responsible), Trefor Roberts (bass guitar and polarized helium-3 project) and Frank Tons (drums, ESRF). The rousing finale “We've got five years,” an adaptation of the David Bowie clas-sic, was an obscure reference to scientists-contracts at ILL, during which the directors were serenaded (but they've only got five years as well!).

Proclaiming Independence: Five Days in May from Ben-Gurion's Diary

AT EXACTLY 4:00 P.M. ON Friday, 14 May 1948, Ben-Gurion stood up in the auditorium of the Tel-Aviv Museum, rapped the gavel, and the assembled rose. plan called for the Philharmonic, which was unseen on the upper floor, to play the Jewish national anthem. Anticipating the significance of the moment, the-crowd spontaneously broke out with Hatikvah before the orchestra began to play. At the conclusion of the singing, BenGurion announced: I shall now read to you the Scroll of the Independence which has passed its first reading by the National Council. He thereupon began: The Land of Israel was the birthplace of the Jewish people .. . His reading was interrupted by loud and prolonged applause when he concluded the dramatic passage midway through the Scroll: We hereby proclaim the establishment of the Jewish State in Palestine, to be called the State of Israel.' On concluding the reading, he called on the assembly to stand as the sign of their agreement to the adoption of the Scroll of the Independence. When the audience was again seated, he announced that those members of the National Council who were in Jerusalem and could not come to TelAviv had also ratified the document. Ben-Gurion then proceeded to read out the first proclamations of the new state including the abrogation of the British White Paper prohibiting Jewish immigration. All were immediately approved. signing of the Scroll was undertaken by those members present on a portion of parchment that was to be appended to the official parchment that had yet to be inscribed. meeting ended with the assembly on its feet as the orchestra played Hatikvah and Ben-Gurion declared: The State of Israel is established! This meeting is ended. proceedings took but thirty-two minutes.

BMA turns its back on performance related pay

The BMA has turned its back on performance related pay and local pay bargaining. At its annual meeting last week the association unanimously opposed both concepts. To prolonged applause the consultants' leader, Mr John Chawner, declared, “They strike at the heart of the NHS and at the heart of the way we work as a profession.” The chairman of the BMA's council, Dr Sandy Macara, said that he hoped that the health secretary, the chancellor of the exchequer, and the prime minister had heard the applause. “I know; you know; only the government fails to understand that if it persists …

Golden Days in Old Heidelberg: The First-act Finale of Sigmund Romberg's The Student Prince

Fifteen minutes before the end of the first act of The Prince, the members of a Heidelberg student society, the Saxon Corps, gather at the Inn of the Three Apples to find out if Karl Franz, the Crown of Karlsberg, a recently enrolled student at the University of Heidelberg, will join their ranks. The music is continuous, from their entrance to the end of the act, except for one brief speech (and, perhaps, for the prolonged applause after the two major musical numbers in the scene). By the end of the act, we have seen the accept and be accepted by the students (against the wishes of his valet, Lutz) and we have seen his love for Kathie, a waitress at the inn, begin to flower. Karl Franz, in fact, fully becomes the Student Prince of the operetta and the audience sees on stage what he will remember in the later acts as the Golden Days of youth and love.' The musical-dramatic scene in which this action unfolds is technically the finale of act 1. Though the scene seems somewhat casually constructed, it actually underwent considerable revision during the creation of the show.2 This finale is undeniably a powerful musical number that gives us our primary image of The Prince, and it elucidates the yearning of the and Kathie in the bittersweet acts that follow for this Eden of love and camaraderie.

Weaving the Wind: Stephen Dedalus, Joseph Joubert, and the Conditions of Art

THE COMPARATIST WEAVING THE WIND: STEPHEN DEDALUS1 JOSEPH JOUBERT, AND THE CONDmONS OF ART James Walton Notre vie est du vent tissé. (796) Ferme les yeux et tu verras. (286) Joubert, Carnets Weave, weaver of the wind. (2.52) Shut your eyes and see. (3.9) Joyce, Ulysses^ The affinities between Stephen Dedalus and Joseph Joubert (17541824 ), another "author without a book" (Blanchot 75), have escaped the attention even ofJoyce's French friends and commentators. Owing no doubt to the absence ofexternal evidence, the similarities between the above passageshave beenoverlookedby source-hunters, thoughWeldon Thornton concedes the likelihood of a "more specific source for the weaving allusions which I have not found." Thornton cites several passages from Blake, including the following Unes from Jerusalem: "the Daughters of Albion [i.e. Memory as opposed to Imagination] Weave the Web/ Of Ages and Generations" (28). Gifford (26) adds Isaiah 19:9 ("and they that weave networks shall be confounded") and John Webster: Vain the ambition of kings Who seek by trophies and dead things To leave the living name behind And weave but nets to catch the wind. (The Devil's Law Case V.iv. 124-27) For a later weaving allusion in Ulysses (9.376-78), both Thornton and Gifford supply a passage from the end of Pater's The Renaissance describing the process to which all "analysis" must yield: "that continual vanishing away, that strange, perpetual weaving and unweaving of ourselves" (Thornton 177; Gifford 218). Joubert's own acknowledged source is familiar enough to underlie all modern instances. He quotes Job 7:6-7 from the Vulgate: "Memento quia ventus est vita mea," then "Dies mei velocius transierunt quam tela textente sucàditur" (796), reversing the lines of the original: "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope./ O remember that my life is wind: mine eye shall no more see good." Taken together these sources, consistent with the argument of Ulysses, suggest that we are all practitioners as well as products ofan insubstantial art. Still, as variations of a weaving metaphor they constitute no more than a common cultural text, whereas the reader of Joubert's posthumously published notebooks will find in their rhetoric, in their phenomenology, and in the psychological conditions of their production a fully articulated type or pattern ofStephen's predicament 69 JOYCE, JOUBERT, AND THE CONDITIONS OFART as "artist." If Joyce's attention was drawn to Joubert by his Parisian connections or by the essays of Sainte-Beuve and Matthew Arnold or merely by the name-fetish that brought ahost ofJ.J.s into his writings, the fact has gone unrecorded. Only by examining Ulysses itself (and secondarily A Portrait) can we demonstrate the extent to which a J. J. other than the author lurks outside the circumference ofthe narrative, supplying materials for the construction ofStephen's mind. In general that mind can be characterized as belonging to an author manqué, one who pursues the implications of Literature to a point that makes literature impossible (or who applies himself assiduously to an art that forestalls art); one whose representation of the world consists largely in the elaboration of a single trope ("Notre vie est du vent tissé") and whose paralyzing cosmic fiction figures as the last net that Dedalus must fly past in order to become Joyce. The first appearance of the weaver metaphor in Ulysses presents an example of projection on Stephen's part. Resentment of Mulligan has turned him for a moment into a defender ofthe faith. Placing his housemate among a "brood of mockers," he pronounces their common fate: "The void awaits surely all them that weave the wind" (1.657-63). But the oracular tone quickly turns to one of self-mockery: "Hear, hear! Prolonged applause. Zutl Nom de Dieul" 0.665). The use of French, indicating Stephen's fresh recollections ofParis, will be linked to the weaving image throughout the Telemachiad and beyond. At present , Stephen's attack on mockers and "subtle" heresiarchs is plainly disingenuous, for in Episode 1 it is he, self-styled freethinker(1.626), in whose own mocking mirror (2.159) we catch, through the interstices of time and space, repeated...

The XXVIII congress of the CPSU in perspective

AN ASSESSMENT of the XXVIII Congress of the CPSU can best begin with the XXVII Congress, from which it was divided by little more than four years but by what seems an aeon of political development. That congress too, one has to remind oneself, occurred during the general secretaryship of Mikhail Gorbachev, and it too had a place in the history of perestroika. This, however, was still a high mass of the old communism, its rituals reflecting and sustaining an oligarchic absolutism that still seemed intact and very largely was intact. Despite the warning notes now being sounded, this congress had much of the complacency of its predecessors: here was the party which was proud to have built socialism, and for doubt to be cast on that achievement, as would happen at the next congress,1 would to most delegates have seemed inconceivable. Amidst these proceedings heavy with the weight of Soviet traditionalism, the Political Report delivered by the new General Secretary was, as had to be expected, greeted with 'applause', 'prolonged applause', 'stormy applause', and finally with the 'stormy and prolonged applause' of a standing ovation, and its closing words elicited, or so the communique put it, 'exceptional unanimity' from the delegates.2 Yet the report was out of keeping with almost all other speeches,3 with the revised but still highly traditionalist party programme and set of rules, and with the general tenor of the proceedings. For, while paying lip service to such pieties as the imperialist threat and developed socialism, this was a subtly and yet emphatically reformist statement, urging a comprehensive reform programme of which economic acceleration was the essence but which would have an important political dimension as well. Gorbachev's success in getting his highly conservative Central Committee to approve such a report was probably due to the fact that its members, while recognising the need for economic acceleration, saw no need whatever to take his political proposals seriously and no necessary connection between them and the hoped-for acceleration. Talk of'democratisation' and 'the perfecting of Soviet democracy' was, after all, the stock-in-trade of Soviet politicians, and despite it the political system had successfully resisted any democratisation.

Stalinist Industrialisation and the Test of War

The great Soviet victory over Germany in 1945 has often been cited as justification for the decade of whirlwind transformations which preceded the outbreak of war. Of all Stalin’s policies, rapid industrialisation is the one which seemed most obviously validated by wartime experience. According to authoritative western estimates, between 1928 and 1941) the output of civilian industries multiplied 2.6 times, while munitions output grew 70-fold. In these twelve years industry, construction and transport expanded their contribution to the national income from little more than one quarter to not far short of one half.1 A decisive factor in the war’s outcome was the volume of munitions available to the armed forces of the opposed coalitions. These volumes far exceeded the previously accumulated stocks initially available to the combatant nations: they depended above all upon the specialised industrial capacities which each nation was able to assign to war production. The quantity and quality of combat munitions available to the Red Army on 22 June 1941 proved far less important than the capacity to replenish and expand them. This meant not only the specialised capacities of the defence industries but also the supporting infrastructure of general-purpose engineering capacity as well as the steel industry, nonferrous metals, the fuels, chemicals, energy and transport sectors.Without these, the Soviet armed forces could not have lasted more than a few weeks in combat with the Wehrmacht. Moreover, enhancement of the Soviet capability for supplying a protracted war of resources was not an accidental by-product of Soviet industrialisation, but was a deliberate element in the complex of goals set out in the transition period of 1928-31.2 Stalin himself recorded absolutely no doubts on the contribution of his own prewar policies to victory. In a major speech of February 1946 he summed up the results of the war and evoked the theme of war as a national test.3 The war, he declared, had not been all bad because it had provided “a great school of testing and verification of all the people’s forces . . . an examination for our Soviet system, our state, our government, our Communist Party”. The Soviet Union had passed this examination, thereby vindicating the Soviet social system, multinational state and armed forces against prewar critics and doubters. Essential to this was their prewar preparation. Victory in war was attributable not only to high Soviet morale, but also to material preparedness, making possible a high level of wartime supply of the Red Army. Behind the latter Stalin found the prewar policies of economic transformation: rapid industrialisation of the country, and the collectivisation of agriculture. Industrialisation and collectivisation—and also one other aspect of the party’s general line, its defence against internal opposition. For Stalin, victory in 1945 also provided sufficient justification for his prewar suppression of “the antiparty machinations of the Trotskyists and Rights”. The war had vindicated the Soviet system and its policies against enemies at home, as well as against those abroad. Stalin’s views left a lasting imprint on Soviet historiography.4 The war would be seen as the heaviest, the most bitter, even the supreme test of the Soviet system and economy; it justified the prewar policies of forced industrialisation and collectivisation of agriculture, and demonstrated the superiority of the Soviet system above others in carrying out the tasks of both war and peace. Here would also be found a key element of continuity between today’s ‘new thinking’ and more traditional views. For example, President (then General Secretary) Gorbachev spoke about the test of war on the occasion of the 70th anniversary of the October 1917 revolution in the following terms: The aggression imposed upon us was a pitiless examination of the viability of the socialist structure, the fortitude of the multinational Soviet state and the strength of patriotic feeling of Soviet people. And we passed this examination by fire and sword, comrades! (Prolonged applause).5 And in a more measured analysis published at the same time, Gorbachev concluded: . . . not to force industrialisation was impossible. Already from 1933 the threat of fascism began to grow. And where would the world have been, had the Soviet Union not stood in the path of the Hitlerite war machine? Our people destroyed fascism with the power created by them in the 1920s and 1930s. Had there been no industrialisation, we would have stood defenceless before fascism.

Dr. Thomas Lushington (1590-1661), Sir Thomas Browne's Oxford Tutor

Dr. Thomas Lushington is usually mentioned only in his capacity as tutor to Thomas Browne at Broadgates Hall, Oxford. Apart from throwing some light on the mind that helped train the future author of Religio Medici, this paper attempts to put into greater perspective a witty seventeenth-century preacher, gifted scholar, and orthodox Anglican unjustly accused of heresy.' On April 28, 1624, four months before Broadgates changed its name to Pembroke College, Lushington preached the Easter Monday sermon at St. Mary's on Matt. 28:13-Say ye, his disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept. Imagining the group of people around the empty tomb, in a sustained passage of sometimes angry dialogue among the women, a Roman soldier, several Jewish priests, and members of the rabble, he brings to life the miracle of the resurrection. The largely undergraduate congregation burst into prolonged applause. But because to some the theatricality shocking and because two minor passages reflected upon King James's Spanish policy and the honor of Parliament, Lushington forced to preach a recantation sermon within the week. This pair of sermons reverberated through history for almost a century.2 At the time a faction led by King James and his favorite, Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, agitating for war with Spain over the breaking down of the Spanish match for Prince Charles. Anglicans and Puritans alike had been against the Catholic marriage. Christian pacifist though Lushington was, his slur on the possibility of war on such a pretext politically rash, and his allusion to Parliament as peasants perhaps displayed a High Church blindness to the growing democratic feeling in England. The following Sunday, in a new sermon on Acts 2:1, Lushington obediently took back the two politically offending passages, the one on war and the other beginning Now the peasant thinks. .. . For any other erroneous thing, I require your pardon. A Word once spoken cannot be recall'd, it may be stopt.' Commenting upon the affair, Anthony ' Wood concluded that Lushington was reckoned more ingenious than prudent, and more apt to display his fancy than to proceed upon solid reason.'' But the best commentary comes from the preacher himself in one of his remarkable passages of self-castigation. Preaching later from Rom. 7:11 on how by obeying one law we inevitably sin against another, Lushington said:

Joel hildebrand.

JOEL HILDEBRAND* DESCRIBED by HIMSELF Why Write about Myself? Friends have long urged me to write an autobiography. I have excused myself hitherto by saying that I am still having too much fun investigating the ways of nature to care to take out time to write about myself. I do not expect after my departure to be looking at the earth from some extraterrestrial observation point to check on whether proper respect is being paid to my memory. Furthermore, I have not been convinced that enough persons would be sufficiently interested in reading about me to make the task of writing about myself worthwhile. But my esteemed friend, Editor Ingle, assures me that there are, and he may be right. Two big city newspapers have confirmed his opinion. The San Francisco Chronicle published a half-page on "The U.C.'s Ageless Scholar," and the Oakland Tribune gave like space to a "Retired U.C. Chemistry Prof Going Strong at 90." I am neither a biologist nor an M.D., only an old physical chemist, but scores of biologists and M.D.'s write for certain of my reprints, and some may even be curious to learn about the fellow who wrote them. Ninetieth-birthday letters and events revealed that I have many more friends among former students and associates than I realized . The San Francisco Bay area chemists put on a Hildebrand Night; a guest lecture to a large audience of freshmen was greeted by prolonged applause; friends at the Faculty Club lunch table provided a cake, a candle, and four bottles of champagne; forty-five friends gathered from several countries for a Hildebrand Symposium; former students flooded me with birthday letters. Such outpouring of goodwill arouses a response in me altogether different from pride. Its nature is well stated in a poem by Carl A. Dragstedt published in these Perspectives in the 1971 Summer issue. I read it at the dinner * Department of Chemistry, University of California, Berkeley, California 94720. 88 I Joel Hildebrand · Joel Hildebrand that followed the Hildebrand Symposium on December 11, 1971. It concludes with these lines: Life's Prize Life's prize is not a big trophy That you can win in a game; It's something entirely different From wealth or power or fame. It's the look of respect and affection, That one can see in the eyes Of the folks who know all about you, That really is Life's great prize. During my long career I have done the things that I considered worthwhile, and I like to talk about them to any persons who feel for me any "respect" or "affection," so, here begins a "Perspective" on Joel Hildebrand. Forebears I selected my ancestors carefully. They were tough, healthy, industrious Pennsylvania Dutch, who immigrated before the Revolution from the upper Rhine valley. Great-great-grandfather Johannes Hildebrand was born in Zurich. I know of none who died before the age of eighty-three. The genes they transmitted to me produced a strong healthy body, still active at ninety. I have treated it with respect, not abusing it with drugs, tar, gluttony, or stasis. I have kept my blood flowing through the aorta too swiftly to permit globules of cholesterol to get a foothold on the wall and start a deposit. I stroked a varsity crew. I carried duffel bags and canoe over portages . My young wife and I hiked on trails in the Sierra Nevada, leading burros carrying duffel and children. I discovered skiing at forty and became sufficiently adept to manage the U.S. team at the 1936 Olympic Winter Games in Bavaria. At seventy-seven I swam a half-mile in twenty-two minutes; I used swim fins because a man of my intelligence should apply his power efficiently, not just churn the water. Another important result of the shuffling of my ancestral genes was a lively curiosity. I early became an avid reader and observer of nature. My outlook was like that of the youngster who said, "Sis, I have found out that there is no Santa Claus, and when I'm a little older I'm going to look into this stork business, too." Most...