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The remains of the day: J. Robert Oppenheimer and Gen. Leslie Groves returned to the Trinity test site in Los Alamos, New Mexico, for news crews in September 1945, two months after the July 16 detonation of the first atom bomb. *Courtesy U.S. Army Corps of Engineers.*

Blind ambition: The antiheroism of Robert Oppenheimer

July 20, 2023

Friday, July 21, marks the opening of two highly anticipated movies that have nothing to do with each other but have already been paired in the public consciousness, perhaps because they both ask us to consider what it means to be human in a world where people constantly grapple for power.

The two films — “Oppenheimer” and “Barbie” — have already been conflated as “Barbenheimer” (is that like “Frankenstein”?), with movie buffs planning a five-hour double feature of “Oppenheimer’s” main course and “Barbie’s” dessert. (Well, why not? After all, Barbie and J. Robert Oppenheimer were both physicists.)

I’ll have more on Barbie,“Barbie” and the male gaze in a subsequent post. But for now I’d like to consider Oppenheimer (1904-67), the scientist who spearheaded the creation of the atom bomb and whose life, lived at the nexus of ambition and conscience, would be eclipsed by his failure to understand the power dynamic.

This blue faience hippopotamus from Egypt’s Middle Kingdom (1961-1878 B.C.) , known as William, is a kind of mascot of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, with replicas sold in its gift shops.

Covid, Ukraine and the meaning of suffering

April 10, 2022

“Hippo King” — a recent episode of PBS’ “Nature,” a show I find difficult to watch but am nonetheless drawn to — tells the story of a hippopotamus from birth through violent maturity to his becoming the primary bull in his pod and eventual death at age 35. In a key moment, the young hippo, on his own for the first time, is eyed by a pride of lionesses. But they turn their attention to a swift gazelle that flashes before them until they attack and devour it as our hippo protagonist watches and moves on, perhaps relieved that it was not his day.

I find myself thinking of that hippo of late as Passover approaches and Holy Week begins in a saason that has always symbolized death and rebirth. Why do we suffer? Well, I think we know why we suffer — OPS (other people’s selfishness) for one thing and then there are those calamities the flesh is heir to that we generally have no control over, like many illnesses.

John Collier’s “Lady Godiva” (1898), oil on canvas. Herbert Art Gallery and Museum. Hair has long been a symbol of female sexuality in patriarchal society. So it was shocking but not altogether surprising that a callous joke at the Academy Awards about the loss of it should trigger a violent response.

The Oscars' hair-raising moment

March 29, 2022

The adage about the Academy Awards is that nobody remembers who won last year. Will Smith has ensured, of course, that no one will ever forget that he won the Best Actor Oscar for his performance as Venus and Serena Williams’ father in “King Richard” — even as his awards-ceremony performance eclipsed it.

As everyone knows by now, Smith got out of his seat, marched up to presenter Chris Rock — who moments earlier had made a snarky joke about Jada Pinkett-Smith’s shaved head, a response to her autoimmune alopecia — and slapped him. Smith then added insult to injury with an emotional apology/about-face in his acceptance speech a few minutes later. (Smith has since apologized to Rock as the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences reviews the incident.)

Nothing about Smith’s behavior is in any way excusable. But I also think Rock is equally culpable in a moment that rolled out every cliché pf America — stupid, classless and violent.

The Senate Republicans — led by Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, he of the closed-mouth smile — could rid themselves of former President Donald J. Trump, at his second impeachment trial. They won’t do it. Photograph courtesy United States Senate.

The Republicans and fear itself

February 7, 2021

Seven years ago when the Greenleaf Book Group was preparing to publish my novel “Water Music,” about the personal relationships and professional rivalries of four gay athletes, one of their estimable editors sent me a question that I think about to this day.

One of the story arcs that is ultimately woven into the other three concerns an Iraqi boy, Alí Iskandar, who is taken under the wing of an American contractor during the height of the Iraq War with the promise of mentorship in the United States. Instead the contractor abuses him, enabled by the man’s family. My editor wanted to know why the boy doesn’t at this point run away, call the police, try to get back to his family. By way of answer I told him the story of one of my boss’ West Highland terriers, all rescues. This particular little fellow was kept in a cage all his life. Often in the office, he sits under her desk or, in moments of high energy, retreats to a corner. Once in a space it is hard to coax him out of it. He’s free and yet he’s still in the cage of his mind.

I often think about this when I think about the Republicans. Of all the many questions raised by the last four years, few are more confounding than these two: Why has former President Donald J. Trump attracted such a cult following and why do the Republicans stick with him?

The way the ball bounces: Novak Djokovic on his way to being the No.1-ranked men’s player in the world at Wimbledon in 2011. Still number one, Djokovic was bounced from the US Open last Sunday when he accidentally hit a lineswoman.

A Novak Djokovic kind of year

September 9, 2020

What kind of year has it been for you, for our global community? For many, it has been an “annus horribilis,” to borrow from what Queen Elizabeth II said of 1992. (Chuck and Di divorced. Windsor Castle burned. Your Majesty, we felt your pain.) People have lost loved ones, jobs, homes and their health to the coronavirus. Their loss and grief are incalculable, as are our feelings of inadequacy in trying to help them.

For others, it’s been “the best of times, the worst of times,” to quote another Briton, Charles Dickens. They have not lost their health, loved ones, jobs and homes. Instead they are working from and on their homes, using their extra time to acquire new skills, take up a language, a sport or an art, exercising and losing weight and generally getting their lives in order. They’ve made money in the market, as tech and pharma stocks help buoy the Dow, and have even earned honors. Or maybe they haven’t endured any losses but they’re struggling with a number of challenges, like the kids’ schooling.

In any event, it’s hard for them to take much pleasure and pride in their accomplishments and blessings with so much suffering around them — and with the occasional curve ball thrown their way. They’re having what we might call a Novak Djokovic kind of year.

Notre-Dame de Paris as seen on May 24, 2012. Photograph by Peter K. Burian.

Death and resurrection in the literature of leadership

April 20, 2019

In a week in which we’ve “rendered unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are (April 15, tax day, having coincided with the beginning of Holy Week, whose end in turn coincided with Passover) — we also continued our discussion of the language and literature of leadership.

Trump’s Manzanar

June 19, 2018

So, what are we now – Myanmar?

One of my sisters lives there, working for the U.S. State Department and spending all day every day on the Rohingya refugee crisis. These minority Muslims have been ethnically cleansed from the Buddhist country. More than 600,000 live in camps in neighboring Bangladesh.

I’m glad that America abroad is still standing up to human rights abuses, because America at home is busy creating them – setting up detention camps for the children of those trying to cross the southern border illegally for the sole purpose of deterring future crossings. …