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Places become famous for reasons, legitimate or not. Something is the largest or the oldest, the site of a well-known story or momentous event. It could be a display of bizarre wonders, of aesthetic beauty, of something worth seeing. People and doings have come and gone, and in their place remains a monument or building or a swathe of ground. It is this thing, this place that others now flock to, to be visited so they can affirm that yes, they have indeed been there.

The idea of tourism is in itself logical enough, innocuous enough; it exists because it’s market supply and demand. Yet the primary idea behind tourism is that it is attraction-based— what will draw in the largest crowds? It’s flashy and loud and superficial. And in that, something is inevitably lost in translation. The original weight and meaning in a fifteenth-century castle, the natural beauty of a stretch of beach, the functional importance of a governmental building, the mysticism around a half-buried ruin with no known history. All of these have become entries on brightly-coloured pamphlets, labeled “must-see.” When one visits France, one is expected to visit the Eiffel Tower, visit the Louvre, and bring back photographic evidence. And then there you go; you’ve seen France.

Sometimes, tourism can be beneficial in that it engenders awareness about something many would not have known otherwise, or provides income for those who need it. On the other hand, it reinforces stereotypes and gives rise to another level of consumerism. It’s commercial; it’s pandering to the masses. When something has become popular for popularity’s sake, though, it has moved, in some oddslot fashion, onto another plane altogether. It has been transformed into an icon, something that is famous for being famous. It has become larger than itself in the public imagination.

Something about tourism irks me still. I am uncomfortable playing the role of tourist, unfoundedly nor not. I do want to see this site, to take the old train up, to step where someone or other has once stood. I do not mind being shepherded along, having things explained to me. It’s nice, really.  Perhaps tourism is inevitable. Places hold meaning, and something in us drives us to see, to be, to take some small part in that meaning. It is not unusual that the unfamiliar frequently holds some sort of draw. One cannot be native everywhere— there is a location (or two or three) that is home. And when one is away from home, following a set of painted white lines is perhaps the safest and most practical way to go. Traveling is understandably a luxury, but should one have the opportunity, it would not go amiss to grasp that opportunity, and take it in a different (and perhaps more worthwhile) direction.

Considering I just arrived in Paris last Friday, and will be studying here for the next semester, I thought it would be fun to compile some of my favorite things about French history:

– In 1560, while walking down a street in France, a man was mugged.  While the thief tried to flee the gentleman pulled out his sword (remember, 16th Century) and cut off the bastard’s ear.  The gentleman was then subsequently sued by the local executioner for the right to own the ear because technically it would have been his job to cut it off had the thief then been arrested and tried.

– Napoleon wore a black handkerchief around his neck for every battle except for one, where his black handkerchief was accidentally thrown in the wash and he was forced to wear a white silk cravat.  That battle was Waterloo.

– People familiar with the Kirsten Dunst 2006 feel good hit of the year, “Marie Antoinette,” of course know that Marie and Louis’s marriage was not consummated in a time frame pleasing to Maria Therese.  In fact, it took over 7 years before the deed was done.  There are many theories as to why this took so long; for a long time it was thought that Louis XVI had a condition wherein his foreskin was too tight, making sex painful, but was given an operation after 7 years that would have fixed this.  However, recent examinations of his very meticulously taken hunting diaries show no breaks that would have been necessary for the healing process, so who knows.

– Shortly before his retirement (the real one.  For those unfamiliar, retirement for de Gaulle was like a Cher farewell tour.  Never actually the last one) him and his wife were visiting with English friends.  In response to the question as to what she looked forward to the most after her husband’s retirement, de Gaulle’s wife said “a penis.”  After some awkward silence, de Gaulle corrected his wife “My dear, I think the English don’t pronounce the word quite like that.  It’s ‘appiness.”

Last Thursday, I was lucky enough to see Daniel Handler and Maira Kalman speak as a part of the Penny Stamps lecture series.  I, like many of the others in the audience, went to the lecture because my progression from childhood to adolescence to adulthood was basically charted by new volumes of A Series of Unfortunate Events which Mr. Handler wrote under his pen name, Lemony Snicket.  The lecture was not about that series, and I worried that for that reason it might not hold my interest.  I was happily proved incredibly wrong.  Handler and Kalman were in Ann Arbor to talk about their new book, Why We Broke Up, which charts the relationship and eventual demise of a high school couple through the objects the girlfriend is giving her now ex-boyfriend back.  Handler and Kalman have also started a website where people from all over can share their own stories of “why they broke up.”

Sitting there, hearing about the artists’ own break-up experiences and looking at this art centered around break-ups, I was struck by the idea that there is so much art about heartbreak.  I have a belief that 99% of art is based on love in some form.  Of that, I would say nearly half focuses on heartbreak or a sad or an impossible love.  My first thought was the movie High Fidelity (I know it is based on a book, but I haven’t read the book, and I don’t want to make assumptions about it based on the movie because who knows how much of that adaptation is faithful?).  This is a movie that dissects break-ups of all shapes and sizes.  The main character, Rob, works at a record store where he and his co-workers are constantly making “top five” lists.  In the film, Rob recounts his top five break-ups, and due to the nature of his work, each scene is punctuated by a killer soundtrack.

Probably the most obvious break-up art is the break-up song.  After the lecture and thinking about High Fidelity, I became really interested in the nature of the break-up song.  I sent out a mass text to my friends asking for their favorite break-up songs—they could be that sad, wallowy kind, a “fuck you” vibe, “I’m better without you”—whatever had helped them through break-ups.  Responses came back immediately.  People love sharing their break-up songs.  Generally, there were two types of responses: either someone would send one song that got them through a very specific break-up (these usually included a small story) or they would send a list with the best ones they could think of.  You can tell from the tone of someone’s songs what kind of break-ups they’ve been through and how they dealt with it.  People were telling me things.  Big things that had happened to them.  They have break-up playlists.  They have songs that immediately make them tear up with the memory of that heartbreak, no matter how removed they are from the experience now.

When thinking about the songs that came flooding in, I was surprised.  Most break-up songs are about the other person.  This makes sense, but I guess when I think of listening to music after a break-up it is sort of a self-healing process.

The majority of songs people suggested are about the “you,” the other person. I was going to compile a list of songs, but I am not exaggerating when I say the results were overwhelming.  Here are a few of my favorites/the most popular:

• “Free Bird”- Lynyrd Skynyrd.  This was the first response I got.  I thought he was kidding.  He wasn’t.  He said he can’t explain it, but his senior year of high school, he had a tough break-up and this helped him through.
• “Fuck You”- Lily Allen, for the angrier side of the spectrum, although the uptempo popiness adds a fun element.
• “Somebody That I Used to Know”- both Gotye and Eliot Smith
• “Skinny Love”- Bon Iver.  This one was mentioned a lot.
• “Your Heart is an Empty Room”- Death Cab for Cutie
• Anything by Dashboard Confessional, anything by Adele, anything by Ingrid Michaelson, anything by Joni Mitchell.  These came up often. Broody, mopey, oddly comforting.  Everyone seemed almost embarrassed to mention these guys, especially Adele, because it seemed so obvious, but isn’t that what makes them so perfect?
• “Headless Horseman”- The Microphones.  From my friend who said, “…might be the most heartbreaking break-up song ever, and I listen to some sad-ass music, believe me.”
• “Jude Law and a Semester Abroad”- Brand New
• “Cecilia”- Simon & Garfunkel.  You’re breaking my heart.
• “LIFEGOESON”- Noah and the Whale.  Finally, a hopeful one.
• “You Could Be Happy”- Snow Patrol.  A friend said this was “on repeat forever.”
• “Song for the Dumped”- Ben Folds.  Self-explanatory.
• “Miss Independent”- Kelly Clarkson.  Now that you’re single, here is your anthem.
• “Best Thing I Never Had”- Beyoncé.  Because Beyoncé is always there to pick you up when you’re down.  Let’s be real.  Similarly, “Single Ladies.”  Because…duh.

This past weekend Hill Auditorium hosted an Ann Arbor tradition- the Folk Festival. Although I was unable to attend either night of the festival, I realized it provided an appropriate opportunity for me to discuss my recent obsession with folk singers “The Avett Brothers.” Consisting of Scott and Seth Avett, the folk rockers have produced some truly incredible music. I usually try to run as fast as I can away from any noise that even barely resembles Country music, but I somehow can withstand the minor country influence in their songs. It is primarily folk music, which I don’t have much affiliation with to begin with, but it has some partial rock background as well. I particularly enjoy the their music because unlike the repertoire of some acoustic musicians, the Avett Brothers create songs that remain under the same genre but are easily distinguishable and unique. Their broad range of styles and instruments help them come up with different ways to make their music, so much that it is hard to categorize them under one name. As a pair, they work extremely well together, and often vary as to who is singing lead vocals and who is providing the accompaniment, as well as switching the use of instruments.

Their album, I and Love and You is one of the most cohesive and deep albums that has come out in the past couple of years. It ranges from gentle acoustic songs such as “January Wedding” to energetic, dynamic songs like “The Perfect Space,” yet all the while sustaining a very high quality. I am constantly and wonderfully surprised as to how much I enjoy each of the songs on the album. I actually started listening to the Avett Brothers when my sister played me the song “Murder in the City,” which is one of my favorites of their’s. I first heard the song and thought, this is probably an exception and I won’t like the rest of the music. One album later and I am overjoyed by the delightful sounds the formed by the combination of their voices, the innovative ways they harmonize and the thoughtful and quirky themes in their lyrics. Their songs are extremely relatable and undeniably truthful, which adds an amazing element of personality. The Avett Brothers embody the tranquil, meaningful ideals upon which events such as the Ann Arbor Folk Festival are built. I highly recommend listening to the album I and Love and You even if you generally are opposed to folk music. You might just change your mind.

My top favorite songs: Murder in the City, I and Love and You, January Wedding, and Ten Thousand Words

Believe it! I went to this amazing art fair today. It was so fantastic! It was outside the city walls of Bologna, which was great because the entire bus-ride back I was singing with my friends on this bus that was like the Bursley/Baits at 9:50 am (Singing Rent no less, which Italians have never heard of). We got compliments

But seriously, this art fair was huge. Not as big as ours, but more diverse. Way more mediums than you see at the AA fair. It was all modern and postmodern, whatever all those words for abstract are. Some of the mediums were so strange, and some were just terrible. There was literally a window shutter. A black window shutter. Maybe I just don’t get all of this modern art. I saw so much though, and I wrote down a list of all the artist I really liked. After I research a little more I’ll writer more about them. For now though I’ll give you a little taste.

For reasons you’ll find obvious, I won’t post a picture of the works i saw, but if you go to the website, you’ll see some of her works

http://www.claudia-rogge.de/fotografie/everafter

This is an artist that I remember for a few reasons. I saw a lot of her works, and I had to ask to make sure that one of them was hers. So I heard her name, looked through her books, and wrote her name on the list. Also, the pictures were basically giant orgies. But artistic. They were themed on the cantos of Dante’s Divine Comedy. The whole series was just beautiful and she really knew how to set up a photo. Her name is Claudia Rogge. Her site is great, but it doesn’t show all of her works. One that really struck me, that I can’t seem to find, is of a dinner table, all set, and covered in wax. Dripping with wax. And the wall behind it has family photos. It’s really something. But for now, this is all I can say. I promise there is more to come from this great experience abroad.

Ciao ciao!

Danny Fob

Your Wolverine Abroad Blogger

In the U.S., a great deal of importance is placed on our names; as John Proctor says in The Crucible, “How may I live without my name?”  People in the U.S. typically have names deriving from their family’s country of origin or their family’s religion.  Like how ‘Patrick’ is a typical name from Ireland or ‘Rebecca’ is a common Judeo-Christian name.  People in Middle Eastern countries have a similar tradition; with names stemming from background, religion, and often meaning.  For example, one popular name for boys is ‘Abdul,’ meaning ‘servant of God,’ and a common name for girls is ‘Aisha,’ coming from the name of Muhammad’s favorite wife.  There are also historical allusions, like the popular Persian name ‘Cyrus,’ from Cyrus the Great, who founded the Persian Empire.  Other Arabic names include ‘Lela’ (born at night), ‘Jamaal’ (handsome), and Rasheed (thinker).  Some examples of Persian names are ‘Aleah’ (God’s being), ‘Kira’ (sun), and ‘Hussein’ (good looking).

(Shakira – Grateful)

Most of us are probably used to the ‘first name + middle name + last name’ system.  Traditionally, our parents choose our first and middle names, and our last name comes from our father’s side of the family.  Though many people from Middle Eastern countries have adopted a more Westernized approach, whether out of convenience or because of colonialism, there are traditional ways of writing names; however, they can vary depending on specific area.  One way is to set the name up as somewhat of a ‘family tree;’ for example, the name:

Layla bint Hussein walud Malik Al-Qasim

translates to ‘Layla, daughter of Hussein, son of Malik, of the Qasim family.’  Like in traditional Western families, the children also take the name of the father’s family.  Some families, particularly in the West, have shortened their names to be ‘first name + father’s name + father’s family name.’  So, using the above example, the name would be Layla Hussein Qasim.

There are many Middle Eastern names that have Western counterparts.  For example, the Persian name for Roxanne is ‘Roxana’ and a form of Anthony is ‘Antwan.’   This is partly because many names that we consider to be ‘Western’ actually come from the Middle East because of the nature of their Biblical origins.  Many times, Middle Easterners are caricatured by the West as having strange, long, or difficult to pronounce names.  Though it should always be kept in mind that American or European names may seem very unusual to someone from, say, Beirut, be careful.  You may be making fun of someone with the same name as yourself.