Category: The Dish

Leon Wieseltier praises it:

Learning to live with disagreement … is a way of learning to live with each other. Etymologically, the term machloket refers to separation and division, but the culture of machloket is not in itself separatist and divisive. This is in part because all the parties to any particular disagreement share certain metaphysical and historical assumptions about the foundations of their identity. But beyond those general axioms, the really remarkable feature of the Jewish tradition of machloket is that it is itself a basis for community.

The community of contention, the contentious community, is not as paradoxical as it may seem.

The parties to a disagreement are members of the disagreement; they belong to the group that wrestles together with the same perplexity, and they wrestle together for the sake of the larger community to which they all belong, the community that needs to know how Jews should behave and live. A quarrel is evidence of coexistence. The rabbinical tradition is full of rival authorities and rival schools—it owes a lot of its excitement to those grand and even bitter altercations—but the rivalries play themselves out within the unified framework of the shared search. There is dissent without dissension, and yet things change. Intellectual discord, if it is practiced with methodological integrity, is compatible with social peace.

The absence of the God’s-eye view of an issue, and the consequent recognition of the limitations of all individual perspectives, has a humbling effect. A universe of controversy is a universe of tolerance. Machloket is not schism, and the difference is crucial. Though disagreement may lead to sectarianism, most disagreement in the history of this ever-thinking people has been contained, and has been brilliantly developed, on this side of sectarianism. I do not mean to exaggerate the loveliness of the system: There has been heresy and there has been heterodoxy, and Jews have persecuted other Jews for their opinions. Intellectual integrity is always a risk to community, because some minds may think themselves, rightly or wrongly, beyond the limits. But the tradition of Jewish debate, especially legal debate, is striking for how rich it remains within the limits. Whether or not heresy and heterodoxy are forms of heroism, it is important to acknowledge that fidelity, and the internal growth of a tradition inside its carefully examined boundaries, may also be heroic.

The phrase comes from the early modern philosopher, G.W. Leibniz, used in his book Theodicy – though it was made famous when Voltaire later mocked it in Candide. Marc E. Bobro unpacks what it means:

In the book, Leibniz defines “world” as “the whole succession and the whole agglomeration of all existent things, lest it be said that several worlds could have existed in different times and different places. For they must needs be reckoned all together as one world or, if you will, as one Universe.” In this world, everything is dependent on something else for its existence — so that in order for the whole world to exist, a first cause must have brought it into being. But an infinite number of worlds were “equally possible,” so that in creating this world, the first cause must have been able to consider all other possible worlds. This first cause, being “infinite in all ways” — including in power, wisdom, and goodness — must have chosen the best of all possible worlds.

It is a point of interpretive controversy how close to perfection Leibniz believed the best world comes.

While most think that Leibniz considered it to be good in absolute terms, both metaphysically and morally, at least one commentator, Matthew Stewart in The Courtier and the Heretic (2006), considers Leibniz to be “in fact one of history’s great pessimists,” who recognized the vanity of striving for progress in this world that is ultimately indifferent to our desires. … But this cynical view of Leibniz’s optimism requires not only an excessively imaginative and tortuous reading of some of his most important works; it would also seem to be undermined by the dedication Leibniz brought to several other efforts, including especially his project to advance all the sciences. A proper understanding of this project reveals that Leibniz’s philosophical and theological optimism in fact shaped his vision of advancing the sciences, and that his political and ecumenical work was often aimed at furthering that end.

Leibniz made clear that he did not mean that the best world is composed only of the best parts, just as “the part of a beautiful thing is not always beautiful.” While some aspects of the world may not seem good in themselves, they are part of a whole that is better than all the alternatives. No part could in fact have been other than it is, neither better nor worse, since then the world would no longer be as it is, and this world is the best, having been chosen by an infinitely wise God.

Jennifer M. Wood is excited they still exist:

Hop the F train from Kim’s final location to Brooklyn and you’ll find Video Free Brooklyn, a tiny storefront touting the tagline that “Video stores didn’t die, they just had to evolve.” Originally opened in 2002, the space was taken over by the husband-and-wife team of Aaron Hillis and Jennifer Loeber in 2012. While the decision to purchase a video store at the height of streaming’s assault on the traditional rental industry seemed counterintuitive, Hillis calls it “a labor of love that, surprisingly, also made economic sense.” …

Though the store measures just 375 square feet, basement storage allows Hillis—a noted film critic in his own right—to keep approximately 10,000 discs on hand. But rather than compete against the same wide-release films and television series that one can watch with the click of a button and an $8.99 streaming subscription, Hillis is curating a library of hard-to-find fare. “After the floodgates of the Internet opened, we’re now drowning in content and especially mediocrity,” Hillis says. “Video Free Brooklyn’s model is almost a no-brainer: My inventory is heavily curated, but so is my staff, all of whom work in the film industry and have extensive, nerdy knowledge about cinema. Coming into the shop is about nostalgia, the joy of discovery, and getting catered recommendations from passionate cinephiles. It’s a hangout, like the record store in High Fidelity.”

How others are surviving:

[T]alk to any two independent video storeowners in the city and they’ll offer a variety of reasons for their success. The common denominator? A deep understanding of their neighborhoods and customers.

That insight is what has allowed Video Room, an Upper East Side mainstay and Manhattan’s first video store, to keep going for over 35 years, according to its manager, Howard Salen. He has worked there since 1986, and describes the store’s customers as “intelligent Manhattanites” who tend to be older. So they curate to just that: offering a wide array of foreign and classic films, as well as new releases by the Woody Allens and Wes Andersons of the film industry as opposed to the Michael Bays. They also have a secret weapon–a video transfer service. Customers bring in home videos of their families that were filmed on VHS and Video Room converts them to DVDs or other updated digital formats. For Video Room, appealing to a younger clientele is a lost cause. They see video stores as antiques. “Ten years ago they’re everywhere,” said Mr. Salen. “Now they’re from a time capsule.”

Will Malitek, who opened his Greenpoint video store Film Noir about ten years ago, would disagree. His business survives off young customers – those of the artsy Bedford Avenue scene. Mr. Malitek is the type of cinephile who thinks Japanese director Yasujirō Ozu is mainstream, and his collection mirrors that mindset. Though he has the occasional big film–a copy of Cowboys & Aliens, for example–he specializes in cult movies and obscure foreign films. He used to have a new releases section but got rid of it once Netflix arrived. But he doesn’t see Netflix or on-demand as huge competitors since most of the films he offers simply can’t be found elsewhere. “Even if you do find some of them, you’re not going to find all the extras and that’s what my customers want to see,” said Mr. Malitek.

(Photo by Wally Gobetz)