Years of Poems and Spirits

Class notes here.

Concept keywords:
Partial equilibrium framework, general equilibrium, classical and neoclassical framework.
Absolute advantage, comparative advantage, utility curve, indifference curve, isoquant, isocost line, diminishing return
The Edgeworth box, factor, output
Production Possibility Frontier (PPF), Consumer Possibility Frontier (CPF)
Autarky, willingness to trade, offer curve, terms of trade
Heckscher-Ohlin theorem, Stolper-Samuelson theorem, factor price equalization, comparative advantage
Leontief paradox, product cycle theory, Linder theory
Imperfect competition, price discrimination
Gains from trade (classical, partial equilibrium analysis, neoclassical analysis–PPF, BL, etc.), consumption gains vs. production gains, distribution of gains
Factor flow: capital flow, labor flow–consider together with comparative advantage, Rybczynski theorem
Trade policy: government instruments, impacts of tariff, quota, subsidy, tax, etc.
New Protectionist arguments: infant industry, extract profit from foreign monopoly.
Nash equilibrium, prisoners’ dilemma, payoff matrix.

The word “violence” is one of the universally few that automatically conjures up a negative feeling. The fact violence is commonly condemned makes it an odd target of fetish among liberal artists, particularly in America. If First Blood is said to glorify violence, A History of Violence is a symphony, a poem, a hymn, and utmostly, a celebration of violence.

As shown in endless Hollywood movies, violence, if used “properly”, e.g. to defend oneself or one’s family, is not only acceptable, but to be cheerished. Like the usage of contraceptives among the Catholics, violence may be sensually exhilerating, morally justifiable but theoretically problematic all at the same time. The contradicting trinity is abundantly clear in A History of Violence.

Sensually gratifying? Oh yeah. Very. You want to hold that .45 pistol and send a bullet between your brother’s eyes and see whatever is behind the eyes burst out like fireworks, don’t you? Morally justifiable? Sure and it takes two hands to count the reasons: to protect a female employee from being violated, to fight back a school bully who beat you up just because he likes to, to get your hostage son back from the mobsters, to survive your evil brother’s murder plot, and to thank your wife for sticking up with you at the worst moment (by sticking into her), and more.

But what differentiates this movie from the Tarantinian ones is in its conformity. Violence may be necessary or expedient, we are told, but it is against the tenet of civil society. Therefore, when Tom’s son protested he was justified to crack the bones of a school bully and all he did was following Tom’s example, he was slapped hard on the face.

Indeed the desire of violence to be accepted into the mainstream is as strong as it is genuine. After Tom killed his brother and came back home, it is his toddler daughter–the only character in the movie that is NOT involved in any violence–who first performed the act of acceptance by placing dinner plate in front of him. That is where the movie gets really strange: one doesn’t know what to feel for the poor guy who just killed his ninth victim but with tears of shame free flowing on his face–is he beginning a Jean Valjean-isque life long repent or, as I suspect, a newly deceased hero welcome back into the halls of Valhallla?