Deep Culture: Ivo Furman: Marx on a Plane

So It has been almost three weeks since my last posting. I've been bogged down by a multitude of academic tasks including attending and chairing and academic conference and submitting my term projects. It has been a long and stressful three weeks but I have now returned back to my hometown of Istanbul for X-mass vacation.

When I was flying into Istanbul on a red-eye flight last Tuesday, I was thinking about the experience of the airplane. Flying could possibly be one of the most disciplinary and exhausting tasks an individual undertakes in daily life. We are systematically organized into performing amazingly mundane tasks such as lining up, taking off our shoes and endure sharing a tiny personal space with other individuals. I personally despise the experience despite the fact that I fly approximately 10 to 14 times a year. I will not divulge into a Foucauldian analysis of the airport institution as this is not the object of this blog. What I will do however is to examine the concept of airplane food.

Airplane food is a disgusting experience. Breakfasts are often the worst as catering companies go buck wild trying to recreate western breakfast staples such as scrambled eggs or muffins. Usually the results of such endeavours are disastrous. Flying with Turkish Airlines, the breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs and ham. The eggs were a wobbling mess of yellow that resembled something particularly unpleasant (vomit) while the ham could make vegetarians out of the most carnivorous of people. The best of all was that there was an offer of "baklava" with the meal. Who the hell would eat baklava on a plane flight? Eat two and you'll get enough of a sugar rush to perform summersaults on the aisle. My question is who really designs these meals? We already pay so much to fly and yet somehow, since I was a kid, I remember hating the food on offer.

Ryanair seems to have it the best, as it offers no food. To be frank with you, although I really hate all the silly jingles and announcements Ryanair does to promote their goods on the flight, I'd say that paying less and bringing your food is better than eating theirs. Will there be a solution to this problem in aviation anytime soon? Somehow the aviation authorities have complete rights over our bodies as soon as we enter the airport, we are how to behave, how to sit and how to wait. We complain about all this but somehow no one seems to bring up the issue that the authorities also dictate what we eat. Let's examine this problem a little further.

The quality of food that we eat is in essence defined by how much we want to spend on an airplane seat. Theoretically, the more you spend the better service you get. Money is fact a determinant of the level of service you get. Therefore there has to be visible indicators of quality difference. Asides from the size of the seats where else is a better place to show difference in quality than in offered food? So there it is, we are doomed to always have bad food in the economy class as long as business and elite class exists. If not, there would be too little of a difference for customers to make the choice of paying almost twice as much for a seat. We say Marxism is dead but here you go, when you take an airplane to be a self sufficient "society", a Marxian analysis reveals that that the structure of "airplane society" reinforces your miserable existence on economy. So next, the time you fly remember that you have nothing to lose except your chains...

Come All Ye Faithful

On Saturday I'm headed to Greece. As you may have heard, the entire country has erupted into riots over the shooting of a 15 year old boy by Greek police; the rioting that ensued thereafter was the culmination of dissatisfaction with the Greek economy and the quality of life under the current governmental administration. Obviously the situation has deteriorated far more precipitously than anyone had anticipated - hence the Christmas tree decked out in its holiday finest in front of the Greek Parliament building in Athens.

Ivo wanted my cousin, George to live-blog as the various events unfolded while he and his university compatriots took to the streets in protest but, unfortunately he wasn't so keen on the idea. Had we been in Greece this week instead of next I certainly would have taken the opportunity to at least provide some better insight on what exactly is going on at the street level beyond the handful of anarchists throwing molotov cocktails.

This said, I wanted you dear readers to know that for the next 30 days this blog will be heavily influenced on experiences abroad. I hope to bring you insight on Greek wine from the region of Naoussa, an introduction to the wonderful world of Ouzo, a variety of traditional Greek and Turkish recipes, and an expose on some of the best Gyros that one can find in the world. Dear readers, I hope to take you on a virtual vacation. To experience with me the sounds, sights, and smells (well not really) of travel in foreign destinations. Meanwhile I'll try to dodge the flying stones and puddles of burning gasoline.

Column: Deep Culture: The Bourgeoisie of the Sea or Why I Don't Like Salmon: Ivo Furman

Amongst the plethora of titles for half written articles I've planned for this blog, "why I don't like salmon" struck me as a humorous antidote to spending half a day listening to a health care researcher talk about eroticism and death in hospices. Hence I've decided to stick with the title and deconstruct that jolly and wise creature - the salmon.

So why is it that I despise salmon? If tuna is the chicken of the sea world, then salmon must truly be the T-bone. That startling pink colour sparkling of sophistication combined with that clichéd, omnipresent truism of "and its good for you" makes salmon the most obnoxious personality of the sea world. It itself often tastes bland and often hangs out with the most boring clique of potatoes and boiled veg, but still manages to project an image of middle class sophistication and power.

I realize I'm generalizing and being overtly critical of this humble fish, but it so often strikes me that the people who often dislike anything related to fish will order salmon. Paradoxical as it sounds, salmon seems to hold a certain magical charm over their heads. Then what is the discreet charm of the salmon?

I'd say that the secret of the salmon lies in its presentation. Forget all that balderdash about health concerns and the taste. The categorical presentation of the salmon is what matters. Quite often, salmon is presented as the "steak" or a dry cured cut. Presented as such it often allows the consumer to eat without giving too much consideration to the life of the fish before it landed on your plate.

The fish, complete with the head and tails often make people queasy, much like the fifth quarter of livestock; it creates a dilemma of class. Offal, scales, bones are often projected to be the undesirable, the Other of food. Therefore the presence of these elements in a dish often "ruin" the fetishistic desires associated with the dish. Discarding these elements often turn an undesired dish into one that is palatable. The same works for salmon. The categorical presentation of the dish often allows for non-fish consumers to partake in the ritual of consuming fish. The physical recomposition of the fish to suit the taste of the consumer makes the dish desirable. It stops being a fish and becomes a phantasmagoria of candle lit bourgeoisie restaurants stinking of cologne and wine. Such is the power of consumerism as it shapes the reality within which an object exists and is realized.

Of course, the next question to ask is how is taste defined? Does the context really affect the way consumers like or dislike a product? But I've run out of space for today. So, I'd say let these questions be food for thought. Let salmon, much like the bourgeoisie be the effect and not the object of our philosophical meanderings. After all, this wondrous fish used to be revered as a symbol of wisdom in Scandinavian and Celtic societies.

Ivo Furman

Column: Deep Culture: Ivo Furman

I often find introductions difficult to write, as they must introduce a body of work that has not been written let alone defined. When Max Holtz contacted me about the possibility of writing a column for his blog, I tried to conceptualize how my vocation and my hobby would coalesce. Being a PhD researcher in the UK, I felt that I had to combine my study of sociology with the themes Max wanted to explore. I hope to do this without being too pedantic as most academicians are when it comes to writing popular articles. So, I'll try writing jargon free and using personal references suitable for an international audience.

This column will essentially deal with the sociology of food, with how food is a medium of identification. When we talk about food as a conversation topic, it often serves an indicator of our lifestyles, ethnic background and even our political identity. In doing so, food is an individualized act of consumption in which every possible combination has a particular rationality and order. On the other hand, food is universal; it is the collective act of feeding for subsistence. I will be using the latter of the two definitions for this column. Among the topics will be covering will be issues such as how societies and cultures create the "myth" of cuisine around food, how ideas of nationalism categorize food and how the fetishization of cuisine leads to a transformation from necessity to commodity in urban environments. Lastly, I will also be exploring the relation between sexuality and cuisine in national cultures.

Next week, I will be writing a short article about coffee nationalism(s) in South Eastern Europe. In this area of the world, the same cup of coffee is either a Bosnian, Serbian, Croatian, Greek or Turkish coffee depending on your political perspective. Therefore in a political context, coffee is a metaphor for the problematic of Balkan identity and nationalisms.

I hope that this article serves as a delineation of the issues I wish to address in this column. I will finish off this short introduction with a Korean proverb I often like to quote as a toast to the culture of food: "the deeper the culture the tastier the food."

Ivo