Today’s post
will be like a big, sweeping curve thrown by a good pitcher. About the time the batter gives up on it,
expecting it to stay a foot outside, it’ll suddenly gain traction, swerve
toward the plate, and catch a corner of the urbanist strike zone. At least that’s the plan.
I expect
that some readers are familiar with Aubrey-Maturin novels of Patrick
O’Brian. Although perhaps not to
everyone’s taste, I find them among the remarkable literary accomplishments of
the 20th century. Over twenty books,
O’Brian tells the story of British naval captain, Jack Aubrey, and his shipmate
and good friend, Stephan Maturin, who is a naval physician, naturalist, and spy
for the British crown, as they navigate the Napoleonic Wars.
Reviewers
have likened the books to a cross between the swashbuckling Horatio Hornblower
novels by C.S. Forrester and the novels of subtlety and social manners by Jane
Austin. O’Brian moves seamlessly between
scenes of naval battle, largely based on actual encounters, and scenes of often
constrained and awkward decorum, both afloat and ashore.
(The novels were
also the basis for the Russell Crowe movie “Master and Commander – Far Side of
the World”. I haven’t seen the film, but
understand that it focused more on swashbuckling than on manners, which means
that, like many book-to-movie translations, it missed the subtle successes of
the book.)
Perhaps the
single greatest strength of the novels is that neither Aubrey nor Maturin
emerges as the single leading character.
Even when O’Brian focuses his attention on one or the other, the
presence of the missing character retains a palpable claim on the attention of
the reader. Sustained over twenty
novels, the balancing act may be unique in literature.
Much of what
works in the Aubrey-Maturin pairing is the tension between the characters. Aubrey is the bold man of action, hearty in
appetite and in attitude, often stepping on the toes of those whom he should be
trying to please, but capable of creating intense loyalty among his men.
Conversely,
Maturin is slight and abstemious, cunning in his ways but sometimes inept in
his person, capable of staying awake all night converting a secret message into
cipher, but in the next moment capable of falling overboard in a light swell,
engendering not loyalty but affection among his shipmates who honor his medical
knowledge and pity his landlubber ways.
Also, Aubrey
clings aggressively to the past, often citing the ways and traditions of the
Royal Navy to justify his decisions and emulating Lord Nelson’s “straight at
‘em” tactics whenever possible.
On the other
side, Maturin is dismissive of tradition and eager to gather new knowledge with
which to chart his life, fervently seeking new medical knowledge and
aggressively collecting and dissecting the flora and fauna which come his way
during the long voyages.
Maturin
isn’t always correct in the new ways he adopts, such as his use of therapeutic bloodletting,
but he never loses his faith in new knowledge.
The
dichotomy between Aubrey and Maturin is much like the dichotomy between
advocates of car-oriented suburban sprawl and walkable urbanists.
The
suburbanists are like Aubrey, bold, brash, and consistently clinging to the
rules of the past, unable to see a changing world.
The
urbanists are like Maturin, cautiously picking their way into the future,
continually looking for new data to aid the transition. That’s not to say that urbanists have perfect
knowledge. It’s likely that they’re
following at least one trail that will look obviously wrong-headed to
posterity, such as Maturin’s bloodletting.
But they believe in data more than in tradition and that’s generally a
fine thing.
This insight
came particularly to mind when I recently perused the stances of a North Bay
candidate for public office. The
candidate took two broad positions, that he would hew to an independent path
and that he would go where the data led him.
I liked both points and read eagerly on.
And then,
the first two points he made, not just two points I cherry-picked, but the very
first two points, were support for a new arterial to “relieve traffic
congestion” and for continuation of economic development through business
attraction.
He took both
points despite overwhelming evidence that traffic congestion is a result of how
we price car travel and can’t be solved by road-building and that the economic
development of the future won’t be driven by business attraction, but by
building livable, walkable communities that attract the creative people whom
businesses will follow.
The
candidate may have claimed to be a Stephen Maturin, but he was a Jack Aubrey
underneath. And as the political season
gets underway, he probably won’t be the only one to fly false colors.
And so, as
we celebrate Independence Day, perhaps the most important independence we can
seek is independence from the false shibboleths of the past. Let us be Stephen Maturins, constantly open
to new information and to carefully picking our way into the future.
Petaluma
Urban Chat, which I’ve mentioned many times in the past, will take a different
tack for their July meeting. I’ll
explain in my next post, but for now please put Tuesday, July 8, 5:30pm, Aqus Café at
2nd and H Streets on your calendars. The
meeting should be worth your time.
As always,
your questions or comments will be appreciated.
Please comment below or email me.
And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)
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