Paraphrased from Marx’s famous dictum, this little cartoon draws attention to the wonderful, little bourgeois toys that Marx could have never even dreamed would be available for proletarian consumption (and entertainment!): iPods, computers, televisions…

In fact, Marx probably would have never gotten around to composing the Communist Manifesto. He would have been too busy posting on tumblr.

I found this here at Today in Social Sciences. It simplifies some things, of course. You have at first the “feudal lords” who fight with the “serfs and peasants.” That conflict gives you a winner: “city life.”

Then those who enjoy “city life” clash with the “guilds.” That results in a new group of victors: “entrepreneurs” who in turn then end up fighting with the “proletariat” and then we finally get the final outcome: “communism.”

That’s a whole lot of simplification of Marx even accounting for the fact that the image was made for an undergraduate course called “Cultural and Institutional History of Modern Europe.” I’m not criticizing a professor’s choices, but merely pointing out that there are multiple ways to communicate the essence of Marx’s ideas about history to a somewhat apathetic young student population. And that it’s easy to fudge things.

To wit: what is interesting here is the way two of the categories are chronologically positioned: the “City life” people come first, and then the “Entrepreneurs.” Yet, as should be obvious, there’s (a) a lot of overlap between the two and (b) there’s nary a mention of the bourgeoisie here. As my esteemed colleague has been ably chronicling here and here, it is almost impossible to separate the notion of “City life” from definitions of the “bourgeoisie.” In fact, conceiving one is impossible without the other.

My point here? Teaching Marx (even to apathetic teenagers) demands some care in definitions.

The transept from the Grand Entrance of the Crystal Palace, Souvenir of the Great Exhibition, William Simpson (lithographer), Ackermann & Co. (publisher), 1851.

With the rise and dominance of the bourgeoisie in the late 19th century, the relationship between imperialism, commerce, and consumerism begin to be celebrated in—what I call— “spectacles of Empire,” in which technological advancements and industrial growth were put on display in great exhibitions meant to communicate the “greatness” of Empire. The idea behind such exhibitions is that anyone—but really middle-class families— could buy tickets and “enjoy” the Empire on the weekend.

One of the most famous exhibitions of the 19^th century was the Exhibition of the Works of Industry of All Nations, held in London in 1851, otherwise known as the Crystal Palace exhibition.  A monument of modern iron and glass architecture, the exhibition housed and displayed an abundance of goods from British colonies and other nations. Karl Marx himself even commented on the exhibition, saying that it represented the height of some sort of capitalistic fetishism of commodities.

New inventions were also crucial to the success of this exhibition. The Tempest Prognosticator, for example, was an ingenious little device that utilized leeches to predict storms.

So, apparently a professor at Carlton University (in Canada) has put together a graphic novel version of The Communist Manifesto titled (obviously) The Communist Manifesto: Illustrated. Associate Professor George Rigakos says that:

The Manifesto is a foundational and fundamental text that students should be aware of. I thought it would be intriguing to bring this part of history alive using a graphic novel or comic book approach that would engage more students.

According to a journalist’s report on the graphic novel (which has graphics from Argentinian artist Victor Serra):

Rigakos has inserted prologues to all four parts of his Manifesto, including a reckoning between the father of communism and an old revolutionary in Highgate cemetery in London, where Marx is famously buried. The hero/villain opposition familiar to readers of graphic novels [sic] becomes the proletariat and the bourgeoisie, and a resplendent visually realized class pyramid completes Rigakos’ cartoon vision of Marx and Engels’ words.

The plan is for it to be a 4-volume work with the first one titled Historical Materialism.

So that got me thinking: do the superheroes that populate our current imagination fall into a bourgeois/proletariat typology? Can we say bourgeois = Batman, Iron Man, Daredevil, etc., and proletariat = Spiderman, Superman, Captain America, etc.?

stickyembraces:

The real spectre of Marx

LOL. I love that whoever made this also changed the pictures on the wall.

pomoculturist:

Sarcastic and intelligent. Now, that’s my kind of person!

OBJECT OF THE GAME:

“Class Struggle” reflects the real struggle between the classes in our society. THE OBJECT OF THE GAME IS TO WIN THE REVOLUTION … ULTIMATELY. Until then, classes—represented by different players—advance around the board, making and breaking alliances, and picking up strengths and weaknesses that determine the outcome of the elections and general strikes which occur along the way.

1. “Class Struggle” can be played by two to six players.
2. THE REAL PLAYERS IN “CLASS STRUGGLE,” HOWEVER, ARE CLASSES, not individuals. Workers (those who produce shoes, cars, houses and so on) and Capitalists (those who own the machines and factories with which these things are produced) are the Major Classes. Farmers, Small Businessmen, Professionals (doctors, lawyers, professors, etc.) and Students are the Minor or Allied Classes. In the game, the hammer symbolizes the Workers, the top hat—the Capitalists, the tractor—the Farmers, the cash register—the Small Businessmen, the brief case—the Professionals, and the mortarboard—the Students.

Created by NYU professor Bertell Ollman in 1978, Class Struggle: The Game looks like a cheeky adaptation of Monopoly (made abundantly clear by the fact that Karl Marx is arm wrestling Nelson Rockefeller on the cover).

So: question. Should we see Class Struggle: The Game as as a useful pedagogical tool to mobilize would-be revolutionaries or more as a leisurely, bourgeois way to pass the time until the revolution inevitably washes over the armchair revolutionaries?

Yes, I’m being cheeky.

I have just finished reading Kevin Roose’s undercover exposé on his semester at Liberty University called The Unlikely Disciple: A Sinner’s Semester at America’s Holiest University. Roose was a sophomore at Brown University when he decided to transfer to LU for the Spring semester of 2007 (which, incidentally, was the same semester that the school’s founder and the leader of the Moral Majority, Jerry Falwell, passed away). Roose wanted to understand the evangelical movement from an insider’s perspective and, most importantly, to get to know LU students on a personal level—the “culture warriors” who will one day be influential leaders of mega churches, CEOs of big corporations, and high-ranking politicians. The book is compulsively readable and very entertaining, made better by the fact that the author was able to leave his baggage at the door and go into LU with an open mind.

Roose grew up in a semi-religious Quaker household of left-leaning Democrats. Before arriving at Liberty, he knew very little about evangelism or the Bible, and admitted that

The closest I came to consistent faith was during my senior year religion class, when we learned about the Central and South American liberation theology movements and I became briefly convinced that God was a left-wing superhero who led the global struggle against imperialism and corporate greed.

The connection between social justice and Christian belief seemed to have made a strong impression on Roose earlier in his life. It is no wonder that, after having settled in for orientation at LU, he recounted a particular passage from Jerry Falwell’s welcome address that contradicted the very spirit of liberation theology (which is basically a Christian reappropriation of Marxist thought):

Dr. Falwell also had a political mission. As one of the nation’s leading conservative voices, he wanted Liberty to be “as far to the right as Harvard is to the left.” That meant clearly articulating the school’s political views to all incoming students. (One promotional brochure I received touted Liberty’s “strong commitment to political conservatism, total rejection of socialism, and firm support for America’s economic system of free enterprise.”)…

“America’s colleges and universities, I’m sad to say, have become breeding grounds for immorality and drugs, and worse than that, an attitude that is anti-Christian and often anti-American. Very frankly, we are conservative. We don’t have a single socialist on our faculty. Not one. We don’t have a single liberal working on our campus, either. We’re trying to build a university that brings America back to God and to the faith of our fathers. And I’m glad you’ve joined us in that mission. Students, welcome to Liberty!”

LU’s mission statement — the “total rejection of socialism” coupled with “firm support” for the free market — was intriguing to me, as it placed the goals of the evangelical movement during the Fourth Awakening into the broader scope of American postwar politics. I now get the strong impression that this glorified Bible boot camp is not just a training ground for cultural conservatism — a place where young evangelicals can learn about creationism, for example— but also for inculcating bourgeois ‘American’ values that embrace free-market capitalism. The concern about the ungodliness of socialism coming into contact, and possibly polluting, Christian faith seems to have been born out of deeper Cold War-era anxieties equating capitalism to “being American” and socialism to “being UN-American.” For Biblical literalists such as Falwell, the irony that Jesus would have found free-market capitalism repulsive was entirely lost on him.

‘Sup.