Benjamin Moser on the Dutch Masters, Brazil, and Cultural Icons

Primary Topic

This episode explores the intricate interplay between art, culture, and personal identity through the lens of Dutch and Brazilian contexts, dissected by the guest, writer Benjamin Moser.

Episode Summary

In a rich conversation with Tyler Cowen, Benjamin Moser delves into his fascination with Dutch art, especially the nuanced works of Vermeer, and discusses his personal experiences in Brazil. Moser shares insights from his book on Dutch painters, explaining how Vermeer's style evolved dramatically during his career. He also critically examines the cultural and historical significance of Brazil, challenging some conventional perceptions while highlighting the complexities of Brazilian society and its representation in art. The dialogue spans a range of topics including the impact of cultural icons like Clarice Lispector and Susan Sontag, and Moser's nuanced views on Dutch and Brazilian cultural identity, making it a reflective exploration of how art mirrors and shapes societal values.

Main Takeaways

  1. Benjamin Moser provides a deep analysis of Vermeer's art, discussing the painter's transition from large, mythological themes to his renowned intimate domestic scenes.
  2. Moser reflects on his experiences in Brazil, offering critical perspectives on Brazilian culture, politics, and the arts.
  3. The episode highlights the global influence of Dutch artists and how their works are rediscovered and reinterpreted over centuries.
  4. Moser discusses his literary work on Clarice Lispector and Susan Sontag, emphasizing how their writings have influenced cultural discussions.
  5. He explores the themes of visibility and perception in art, touching upon how these elements are interpreted across different cultures.

Episode Chapters

1: Introduction to Dutch Art

Moser discusses his book on Dutch masters, emphasizing Vermeer's unique style and historical rediscovery. He elaborates on the intricate details and symbolism present in Dutch paintings. Benjamin Moser: "Vermeer's art captures subtle nuances that speak volumes about Dutch society during his time."

2: Brazilian Cultural Perspectives

Moser shares his critical insights on Brazilian society, discussing its complexities and contradictions, especially in terms of cultural representation and national identity. Benjamin Moser: "Brazil's rich tapestry of culture often masks the deep socio-political issues that it faces."

3: Impact of Cultural Icons

Discussion on the lasting impact of cultural figures like Clarice Lispector and Susan Sontag, examining their influence on contemporary cultural dialogues. Benjamin Moser: "Sontag's critique of photography challenges our perception, shaping how we view media today."

Actionable Advice

  1. Explore art from different cultures to gain a broader perspective on global artistic movements.
  2. Engage with local and historical literature to understand the cultural context of the art.
  3. Visit art exhibitions to see the evolution of an artist’s work firsthand.
  4. Read biographies of cultural figures to understand their influence on society.
  5. Reflect on how personal identity shapes one's interpretation of art and culture.

About This Episode

Benjamin Moser is a Pulitzer Prize-winning writer celebrated for his in-depth studies of literary and cultural figures such as Susan Sontag and Clarice Lispector. His latest book, which details a twenty-year love affair with the Dutch masters, is one of Tyler's favorite books on art criticism ever.

Benjamin joined Tyler to discuss why Vermeer was almost forgotten, how Rembrandt was so productive, what auctions of the old masters reveals about current approaches to painting, why Dutch art hangs best in houses, what makes the Kunstmuseum in the Hague so special, why Dutch students won't read older books, Benjamin's favorite Dutch movie, the tensions within Dutch social tolerance, the joys of living in Utrecht, why Latin Americans make for harder interview subjects, whether Brasilia works as a city, why modernism persisted in Brazil, how to appreciate Clarice Lispector, Susan Sontag's (waning) influence, V.S. Naipaul’s mentorship, Houston's intellectual culture, what he's learning next, and more.

People

Benjamin Moser, Johannes Vermeer, Clarice Lispector, Susan Sontag

Companies

N/A

Books

"The Upside Down: Meetings with Dutch Masters", biographies of Clarice Lispector and Susan Sontag

Guest Name(s):

Benjamin Moser

Content Warnings:

None

Transcript

Tyler Cowen
Hello, everyone. This is Tyler. We want to hear from you about the show. In the show notes, there's a link to a short survey where we want to learn more about you. Why do you listen to the podcast?

What do you think is under or overrated about the show? Is there someone you would just love to hear me interview? Your feedback will help us understand our listeners so we can produce better episodes, as well as future live events and listener meetups. Again, please find the link at the top of the show notes to fill out the survey. And thank you.

We very much appreciate your feedback.

Conversations with Tyler is produced by the Mercatus center at George Mason University, bridging the gap between academic ideas and real world problems. Learn more@mercatus.org dot for a full transcript of every conversation, enhanced with helpful links, visit conversationswithtyler.com dot.

Hello, everyone, and welcome back to conversations with Tyler. Today I'm very happy to be chatting with Benjamin Moser. And Benjamin Moser has no title. He is a writer. He is an author of a very recent book, which I liked very, very much.

That book is called the upside down meetings with dutch masters. Benjamin is probably best known for his Pulitzer Prize winning biography of Susan Sontag, and he also has the best known english language biography of the brazilian author Clarice Lispector. And he has a homepage where he writes on many disparate topics. Whatever comes to mind for him. Benjamin, welcome.

Benjamin Moser
Thank you. Your book on dutch art, was Vermeer a Catholic? He was a Catholic, but not originally. He converted. Yeah, apparently he did convert.

He was from a protestant family. But like a lot of families at that time, it wasn't. There wasn't a clear dividing line because a lot of times you would have people within the same family who would have. Some of them would have gone over to the Protestants, and some of them wouldn't. Does he have catholic paintings?

Yes, he does. And they're. They're his worst paintings, actually. There's one in the met in New York. You mean allegory of the catholic faith, for example?

Well, that's the big one. It's kind of his. Why is it a bad painting or not a great painting? I think it's because we like Vermeers to be indirect, don't we? I mean, we kind of like the suggestion, the kind of the hint of something going on, the sort of flexiness of the glance, the gaze, and not being beaten over your head with all this kind of overwrought symbolism.

At least that's my impression. Isn't the art of painting, in some ways, a catholic painting, and that's a great painting. It's probably Vermeer's best work. Which one? The art of painting.

Oh, right. You have the map in the background with the 17 provinces from the century before. Isn't that some kind of nostalgia for a distant catholic past or not? No, not necessarily. I mean, actually, I was, if I can drop a name, I got to go to the royal palace in the Hague the other day.

I'd never been there before, actually. And they had not exactly the same map on the wall, but it was a very close relative of that map where the country is kind of on the side. So where you would be used to having north on the top, you have north on the right side. And it was thrilling to see it in an interior that looks just like that. I don't think it's a catholic painting.

I mean, it's a painting that has a lot of symbolism and a lot of allusions to literature and to art, but it's not necessarily catholic. I mean, quite a lot of people, Protestants, would have done that as well. How do you account for the fact, as far as I can tell, Vermeer was not extremely well known until the late 19th century. Is that because it was hard to see them or because people didn't get it? Well, it's always usually a bit of both.

I mean, there's only 35 vermeers. He dies when he's 43. So there's not really. He has eleven or twelve children. So there's not really that much time for him to make that many paintings.

They're also bought up mostly by one guy who was his neighbor, who had something like 20 of them in his house. So, you know, this was kind of a local favorite. I think that he does get rediscovered, like a lot of the dutch painters get rediscovered. Actually, there's only two that don't get rediscovered, and that's Rembrandt and Jan Steen. Everybody else has some story about this.

And, you know, paintings disappeared into people's houses. You didn't have museums. You didn't have public places, really, except for churches. And in the Netherlands, the churches didn't have very much art because they had whacked it in their taliban like movement of iconoclasm in the late 16th century. So.

Yeah, and it just kind of vanished into the ether. Did you see the big Vermeer show in Amsterdam last year? I did. I got to go see. What did you learn from it?

Tyler Cowen
Yeah, that's great. You've lived there over 20 years, you already were studying dutch art for the book. What did you learn from the show, per se? Well, I think I learned two things. So I'd seen all the paintings because most of them are, except for one.

Benjamin Moser
There's one that's in Japan. That's this kind of copy of an italian painting that I'd never seen. So I think seeing them all together, you see the break in Vermeer. You see, he goes from these very big formats at the beginning of his career. They're big like the one in Dresden or the one in, you know, the early kind of heroic Vermeer's.

So there is this question about Vermeer, which is what happens to him halfway through his life. He only paints for about 20 years. There's a really big break in the style about halfway through. So he paints these big, very allegorical, mythological, religious paintings, and then all of a sudden, they shrink into these little bitty paintings that are the famous Vermeers. You know, like the girl with the pearl earring or the little scenes of people in a little table with the window.

Those paintings look really different. You can see it's the same painter, but it's actually a really big break. It's interesting that during World War Two, I tell this story in the book as well. This was a lacuna that invited a clever forger, because the question of how do you go from a to b? Is really interesting.

And Vermeer, so this forger named Han von Megeren, who was a kind of Hitler esque. Hitler was an art school dropout. He wasn't quite talented enough to make it, and he was quite embittered by that. And Han van Meern was also. He thought he was just as good as any old master.

So he starts painting these fake Vermeers that are supposed to fill in this gap between a and b, and they're tremendously successful. I mean, I think by the end of World War Two, he owned something like 15 country estates, and he owns 50 something houses in the center of Amsterdam. I mean, he made bazillions, and they were all fake. And if you see them now, and you can see them, some of them are still on display in museums. You think, you've got to be kidding me, right?

This is just totally ridiculous. But it makes you kind of wonder about what do you actually see when you see a vermeer? You see a famous name, because often you see the huge line, the website that crashes the people who flew in from Bangkok and Rio to see this stuff. And you're already prepared to see something that isn't really there. A similar.

If I can go on a, if I know you're a heterodox person, maybe you'll like this comparison. But in Islam there's a famous cliche that every muslim will tell you that one of the miracles of the Quran is that it has the perfection of its style. It's so beautiful, it's so elegant. It could only have been composed by divine inspiration or by God himself. Now the thing about this, it's really funny is that if you're a Muslim and you grow up hearing the Quran, you're so used to hearing it your entire life, you hear it at every occasion, memorized.

Often a lot of really pious Muslims will memorize the entire thing. You're prepared to think it's beautiful. And so when you see a vermeer, you're prepared to think this is the most fabulous thing in the world. This is so rare. There's only 35.

It was, you know, the only time they've ever left this collection in France that nobody ever gets to see. You're prepared to see something by this legend and this name and it makes it very hard to actually see it. So when you see the fake Vermeer, you think, come on, that's ridiculous. But if you try to see it without the perfume, it becomes a real challenge. How is Rembrandt so productive?

Well, he got to be quite old first of all, by the standards of the Dutch. He was 63 when he died. As you know in the book, a lot of these people die in their twenties, thirties. Vermeer dies at 43. So Rembrandt gets a whole extra generation of work.

He also though was just one of these obsessive creators and a kind of a volcano. You know, it's completely dismaying. When I came to this country and I was a kid and I would see the early Rembrandts in the museums here, and I would realize he was younger than I was. He was already painting these incredible masterpieces and I was sitting here trying to write some article that wouldn't get turned down by some terrible magazine I didn't even want to write for. And he was painting these canvases that were like the anatomy lesson and the Hague or these incredibly famous paintings.

And I think he does, as I say somewhere in the book, we fill it in a little bit, but he basically dies in front of his easel. He was an obsessive, driven creator and that's why he died in front of the easel. He also died very poor and mostly forgotten. Do you think Rembrandt prints are still underpriced? As you may know, there was a London auction of quite a few of them a few months ago, and many went for two x or three x.

Tyler Cowen
The estimates. Yeah. Why aren't Rembrandt prints just totally unaffordable? They're very good, many of them. People don't seem to care anymore.

Benjamin Moser
They're unaffordable for me. I doubt if that's true. I'm not trying to inquire into your personal finances, but some of the lesser priced ones I think you could afford. Well, you have different states. You have the original prints that are actually made by Rembrandt in his lifetime, and then you have the plates that are kind of done afterwards or later on, and they're a little bit fuzzier and they're a little bit.

But I think, you know, this was always, people collected Rembrandt for a lot of reasons. The Dutch collected him later, really. And there were obsessive Rembrandt collectors who actually would be a good book for someone to write about the collectors of Rembrandt, because some of them are completely bonkers, you know, and obsessive, like, like a lot of collectors. And, you know, now I think, I don't know if you followed the auctions this week at Christie's and Sotheby's, some. Of the old master ones I looked at.

Tyler Cowen
Yeah. So the top, top, at the top of the top is very, very expensive. It's going for three or four times the estimate. But half of the paintings are not being sold. So that means that whereas, you know, with these contemporary auctions, you have this totally hideous looking stuff that sells for $50 million, and you think, like, I mean, for $50 million, you can buy a lot of dutch paintings.

Benjamin Moser
You can buy paintings from the greatest masters. You know, what you see is the kind of scholarly approach to painting, what the French call the amateur, the person who does it out of love and who does it out of study and out of historical scholarship and all that. Those people are kind of disappearing. And so prints and drawings are the ultimate nerd thing in the art world. That's for people who really know what they're doing, who are really scholarly, because you don't really get to hang, like, you know, you can hang a drawing on your wall, but, like, it doesn't, it doesn't have the, what I call, I mean, it's not my phrase, but in the book I say wall power.

It's not like having a big Picasso on your wall that everybody thinks, wow, you know, you really have to have gone to grad school in art history to really know what all this stuff is. So that stuff is getting. So maybe if educational standards continue to collapse by the time im a little bit older, the prices will also collapse and I can afford them. So you think the growing size of homes and walls and sofas has hurt the market value of a lot of dutch art? It looks better in a small home, right?

Well, I dont know. You know, I was just reading an Edith Wharton story, dont ask me which one because I forgot which one. But Edith Wharton refers to dutch paintings. This is 1900 or something, as kind of a typical show off y, expensive thing that these millionaires on Fifth Avenue would have in their huge mansions. And you do have a lot of dutch paintings that are quite massive, but you don't always see them because they're in storage, a lot of them in museums.

So maybe if you want to build a huge McMansion somewhere in suburban Houston or somewhere like that, you can drag something out of the basement. Who would be a dutch artist, who is good, but when you see them all together in the form of a single artist exhibit, you think, eh, that's actually pretty boring. Well, that's a sad fact that there's actually more of them than you think. Most of them, I would say. I mean, I like Ruistael, I like van Goghian, but if I were to see 50, 60 together, I would start walking rapidly through the rooms, I suspect, and nodding my head and saying, they're all nice.

Well, the thing is, dutch art is for houses. So coming back to your mcmansion that you're building in suburban Virginia, dutch paintings are for people who have like ten or 15 paintings on the wall, and they would have different people and different artists and maybe a few same people, but they weren't really. It's true. I think I say it in the book, that if you go through dutch galleries and museums, you go through 20 different rooms and actually try to look at all the pictures, you're going to get completely bored by the end of it because that's just not the way they're meant to be looked at. But for me, when I first came to this country and I started looking at them, the more I looked, the more rewarding it got.

And Rousdal, who you mentioned, that's one I would actually stand up for him. Fengoy, and maybe not. And then you have some of them that are just not everybody gets. Not everybody is well served by overexposure. I mean, I think this is true of humans in general.

You know, like, some people are fun to meet for, like, dinner once, but you don't want to marry them. There's a few that you want to marry. I mean, like, and some of them are just tragic, you know, like Jan Levens, who is Rembrandt's best friend slash frenemy growing up. If you see too many of his paintings, you actually get almost disgusted by them. Its more than just boring.

Its like, gross after a while. But if you see one or two of them, we would think, wow, this is great. Maybe you would challenge the premise, but why does dutch art become so boring by the early 18th century? Maybe even sooner? Oh, well, this is not, see, I would challenge the premise.

If you ever want to darken the door of this nation, I can take you to some absolutely beautiful places that were built in the 18th century with beautiful paintings and beautiful interior design, which isn't always preserved from the 17th century. But there's quite a lot of it, and it's very decorative. It's not quite the heroic thing. But by the end of the golden age, which is traditionally thought to be 1672, which is when Vermeer has to move in with his mother in law, and things aren't going very well, the country gets invaded, the economy collapses, and then this whole generation dies. But up to the present day, the Dutch were always good at visual stuff.

They're good architects, they're good designers. They make that weird coffee pot that cost $400. And you're thinking, why am I spending dollar 400 on a coffee pot? But actually, somebody thought about how to put a screw in there so that the coffee comes out in the exact right way. There's something, they were always visual.

And so in the 18th century, they continue. And then the 19th century, there's a series of very great artists, culminating with van Gogh, you know, so it's, there's more continuity than people. But post World War two, dutch art, as far as I can tell, seems terrible. Or don't you agree? Not design, right?

Tyler Cowen
Not furniture, but actual paintings. Well, it's not terrible. I mean, you know, the Dutch always, they're good at photography. They are good. There are some very good painters.

Benjamin Moser
It's not really my thing, so it's not really the thing that I'm going to die on the barricade for this cause. But, you know, and then up to Mondrian and de Stael and Rietveld, those are pretty interesting. Those are pretty interesting artists. I would much rather live in a huge, beautiful 18th century house along one of the rivers than live in a super modernist house. But the Dutch, you know, they were good architects and good designers.

Tyler Cowen
Does Mondrian still look fresh to you? Or have you seen it on too many shopping bags, so to speak? Oh, way too many. So I live in Utrecht, and what I didn't realize. So Mondrian also, he dies in New York.

Benjamin Moser
So he's presented as an american, at least on museum labels. It'll say maybe dutch born american painter. And you see him next to all these modernist painters from all over the world, including now, like if you've gone to the Moma lately and seen the new hang of the modern galleries. So they have, like, the big names, you know, you have Rothko and Caso and Mondrian. And now they're next to a lot of Latin Americans and maybe some people from the Middle east and from eastern Europe.

So it's kind of all mixed up. But when you come to Utrecht, you see that Mondrian actually really comes out of this city and that sort of style. It's very typical of a very specific place and time. What I would say is fresh about Mondrian. If you ever get to go to the Hague and get to go to the.

It's now called the Art museum. It used to be called the municipal museum until, like, last week it was. Called the Gemens Museum. Is that right? Yeah.

Khmer Museum. That's the municipal museum. Forgive Mike. And now it's called the what? It's Kunst Museum.

Like just the art museum. I hope I'm getting that right. Anyway, it has a new name, but it's an old, modern museum. And it has all or a lot of the early Mondrians, which are absolutely beautiful. And that is surprising because you would never think that he was going in this direction.

Tyler Cowen
That's one of my favorite museums in the world. And how you see the expressionism turn into cubism and then pure abstraction, it's phenomenal. The tree, it's like an art history textbook that you can actually see. It's like walking through something. You understand how it all.

Benjamin Moser
Where it comes from. Why is dutch fiction so hard to read over time? Well, I could give you an hour on that, but I'll try to give you a couple of minutes. There's one thing that is really a characteristic. So we talked about the design and the art, the visual stuff.

First of all, the language is not only an unfamiliar language to most foreigners, but it's also a language that has suffered quite a lot of modifications in terms of spelling and vocabulary. So if we read like Henry James or Edith Wharton, it doesn't sound, we can tell it's not written last week, you know, but it's, the language is totally transparent, and that's not true in Dutch. And that's one thing that, in fact, somebody told me. I hope this isn't true. Speaking of the decline and fall of everybody's civilization, you can't actually assign a book from before World War two to any dutch high school class because they just won't understand it.

Tyler Cowen
Is there any book you would want to assign? Right. Well, I mean, well, the classic tradition of this country's language is gone. People just not only don't bother to read it, they're convinced that they can't read it. This is totally not true, by the way.

Benjamin Moser
I mean, it is like, there are some spelling things, and, but, you know, if you're a minimally literate person, you can read a book from 1935. It's not, but the kids won't read it, you know? So my friends who are professors and, and high school teachers of Dutch really struggle with this. Besides your partner, Arthur Japin, who else should people read in dutch fiction? Harry Mulisch or Rinefeld?

Tyler Cowen
Forgive all my pronunciations. I'm glad you mentioned Arthur. He's a great writer. We met, actually, because his first novel, which is called the two hearts of quasi boachi, it's actually called the black man with the white heart in Dutch, but that was considered too racially charged in America, even though it was a quote from a 19th century letter. It's about two african princes who are given as a gift to the king of the Netherlands in 1837.

Benjamin Moser
I have actually never read Rheinefeld, although a friend of mine has translated that. Mulish is a great writer. He was really somebody that I really enjoyed reading when I first got to this country. In the New York Review Classics, there's a book called, I think it's called Amsterdam stories. It's by someone called Nescio, which is a pseudonym.

It's like a hundred pages long, and it's basically the only thing he ever wrote. It's just some stories about some kids kind of hanging out in this bad neighborhood in about 1890, and that I thought was one of the best books I'd ever read. It's just one of those miracle things that somebody wrote one book. Dutch literature is very rich, and it's very old. There's a lot of it, and it goes back all the way into the Middle ages.

Deep into the Middle Ages. What's your favorite dutch movie? Well, actually, something I think you can see on YouTube that I mentioned in my book is called Dutch Light, Holland Licht, which is a documentary I saw years ago about how filling in the water. So this country is a delta. It's built.

The land is not always, people think it was all dried, it was drained. It wasn't all necessarily drained. But the thing is, it sinks, so you have to keep filling it up so that it doesn't sink into the water, which is not going to go well, by the way, just in parentheses. In a few years, that's going to be over with the global warming. But as this land gets filled up more and more, the water that was on the surface, it's very shallow water.

It's not deep water. So it's shallow water and it reflects light onto the clouds. So it's a cloudy country, northern, depressing, gray weather. But it has this amazing light that when you see the old landscape paintings, you really can see before when there was a lot more water, it reflected more light and it was more radiant. And this movie, so again, it's called Dutch Light.

I'm pretty sure it's on YouTube. It shows how that process went and how, how the country was darkened and how this is reflected in the painting. I thought it was fantastic. It was a very kind of wonk sort of subject. But it's true the country, it has warmed up in my time here.

But it's also, if you look at the light in the old paintings, you really notice the difference. How much do you feel you're living in what is still ultimately a calvinist country or not? Its a cliche. They always say it. Every time somebodys a little bit uptight or conservative or not as fun, theyll say, oh, its because youre such a calvinist.

I mean, it has a heritage of Calvinism. But dont forget that half the country is catholic, 50%. It was always about 50 50. So the idea that its not a purely protestant country like Scandinavia or something, it was always a very mixed country, racially, culturally. It's always been right in the middle of the three biggest countries in Europe, and it's managed to keep both open to those, to the world, while also being its own thing, the calvinist thing.

I mean, I just don't, I never even really know what that means. Calvinism is a very dark, very terrifying view of God and the world and mankind. And I don't necessarily feel this is a very dark country. I see some disparate facts about the Netherlands today, and maybe you can make sense of them for me in a kind of simple, unified theory. So drug use and sex work, they're more legal in the Netherlands than in most other places, right?

Tyler Cowen
It's a longstanding history of toleration, which you could even say is unparalleled. And yet in the latest election, Geert wielders takes the greatest share of the vote. People claim as of February 2024, if there's no coalition formed and another election were needed, he might take even more of the vote. How does this all fit together? Explain it to me, an outsider.

Benjamin Moser
That's a great question that I need to unpack a little bit to try to maybe explain it. It's true that Wilders won this election. Winning an election in a dutch system that has gazillions of parties. I mean, I don't even know the names of the parties anymore because everybody, like, they secede from the party and then they start a new party and then somebody dies and then they get. I mean, it's really very complicated.

But the fact is that Wilders only got about, I think, 16 or 17% of the vote. So that means that 85%, roughly, of the Dutch did not vote for him. That, I mean, it's a big result, but it's still, you know, it's a minority. The idea of dutch social tolerance of things like drugs and prostitution and things like that. I mean, this is.

I think a lot of countries, including our country, have started to understand that, you know, I mean, first of all, you're in Washington DC. How hard is it to get a joint or a hooker in Washington? It's not that hard. And it never has been that hard. It's just that, you know, that they wanted to regulate that.

And so it got this reputation for this very freewheeling place. I think they really just wanted to tax it. But even so, as Im sure you also know, the cocaine market in the United States is saturated. So the cartels are pushing a lot of cocaine into Europe right now, particularly through the port of Rotterdam. And so even though we have these laws here that are quite tolerant of the stuff, there is a real terrifying thing happening now where people are even saying that it's becoming a narco state.

I mean, it's true. People are getting killed in a way that didn't happen before. I think every society kind of tries to figure out how to regulate things and how to keep this side of things under control, and usually fails in different ways. I mean, the real glory of Holland, that is part of the 17th century story is that they were much more religiously and socially tolerant in the 17th century than any place in the world. That doesnt mean it was perfect.

I mean, if you read the story of what happens to Spinoza and what happens to a lot of other people, it was not a completely free country by any means. I mean, this was a country in the 17th century where if you denied the existence of the Holy Trinity, you could get beheaded. And that was better than anywhere else. It's the kind of country that. Yeah, I mean, I think, you know, they're.

They're losing their minds in the same way that everybody else is. Just a little bit of a delayed reaction politically. What makes the eastern Netherlands special? Would you try to talk people into visiting there? Arnhem, eastern Netherlands?

Yeah, I don't think I talk them into going there. I mean, that's nice. It's rural, you know, it's. It's not. I don't think you're.

I think the real pretty, I mean, the real fascinating part of the Netherlands is never really the countryside. You wouldn't go to Italy and not want to see the hills of Tuscany. You wouldn't want to go to a lot of places and not see the rural landscape. But here it's not so exciting. But there are quite a lot of towns in the eastern Netherlands that are very pretty.

I have to say, I've become a worst tourist, and I've been here so long, I used to go get on the train and go visit some, you know, nunnery that made special honey or something every weekend. And now I never do anything like that. If you're trying to sell someone and living in Utrecht, how would you make the case? It's the perfect city, is what I would say. It's the most ideal place I've ever lived.

I've lived here for a long time. It is kind of like Brooklyn in the sense that it's about the same distance. If you go from midtown Manhattan to Brooklyn, you have the same distance. You know, it's like 40, 45 minutes with door to door, but it's much quieter and smaller, even though you also have everything because it's a university town. And so you have.

And, you know, this country is small, so physically small, but has a lot of people. So even in this towns like this, you pretty much. There's nothing. I don't really think there's anything here I don't have. There's not much that I would think.

If only. I have to go to Amsterdam tonight, actually, for the Franz halls opening at the Rijksmuseum. I'd love for the Rijksmuseum to be here in town, but the fact is we don't have the tourists. Amsterdam has really been struggling with the tourist question, just like Barcelona and Lisbon and Venice, you know, increasingly so many cities, we don't have that here. It's quite nice.

Tyler Cowen
Brazil. Why are Brazilians harder to interview? Brazilians harder to interview? They're not for me. Well, for you.

But you said, this one said, in general, Latins are harder to interview. Oh, well, I know what I mean by that. Yes, Americans love to talk. It's a question that you really feel in countries that have had a long tradition of political freedom, where you can kind of mouth off and not get into too much trouble, people are much more open to strangers. You know, Edmund White once said that everybody in New York should either be arrested or interviewed.

Benjamin Moser
That's kind of. Or both, you know, or both. Often it's both. But, you know, in Latin America, where they have a tradition that's not old, I mean, people remember it. It was very recently of dictatorship and of censorship and of the cops knocking down your door to find forbidden books and all that.

People don't talk quite as easily about sensitive subjects, so they might be very warm and hospitable, and they often are. But when you interview them about anything sensitive, anything political, anything that they, you know, you have to kind of gain their trust. And so when I started interviewing people in Latin America, you know, which was a long time ago, 25 years ago, I would kind of barge in a little bit too aggressively. I think in retrospect, I wouldnt respect the. Isnt it a beautiful day?

Oh, yes. This is my grandsons. He just went to third grade. All that kind of stuff that can often in Latin American, take a long time. And eventually I figured that it was about kind of seeing if you're an okay person, if you can actually be trusted.

Yeah, I mean, every interviewing people, which is something I've done my whole career, basically, is fascinating because you learn how different cultures are and how that gets expressed in just what people will say and what they won't say. Does Brasilia actually work as a city. If you want to keep the great unwashed at a sanitary distance and live in a little colonial island where you don't ever have to interact with the actual country? Yeah, I mean, people like living there. It's a little diplomatic island that's surrounded by this green belt, quote unquote, which is just a bunch of scrub.

It's not like any beautiful park or anything. And then at a very, very, very great distance, you have all the poor people, millions of them. And this is really. It's quite disconcerting if you know Brazil, because one of the things about Brazil that makes it both scary in certain moments, but also really dynamic in other moments, is that despite massive class differences, which are humongous, of course, and that has a racial component as well, you're always quite. If you've ever been to Rio, you know that like, right behind the fancy apartment buildings, you have the slums just right there.

So it's not. It's segregated in a certain way, but it's not really geographically segregated. So when you go to Brasilia and you see, and it looks like some kind of architectural drawing, but nobody's on the streets and nobody's, you know, it's. It's very weird. And I think it's even weirder that people like it.

But apparently, you know, people who grow up there. I like it. I've been twice. Have you really? I think it's beautiful.

Robert Hughes said that the only reason anybody likes Brasilia is that they've never been there. You're offering a counterexample. It's not an ambition I share, but it's a monument to a certain kind of ambition that was seen through consistent sense of how things should be. And it's still that way, maybe even more. So.

Why did you go there twice? Why did you go there once? I wanted to see the modernist architecture, which to me is quite interesting. And then I wanted to show some friends. So that makes twice.

Tyler Cowen
I wouldn't mind going again. I don't think I will. But I found that first time I went, I was really excited because I knew all those buildings, because I was kind of a Brazil person. I'd been in Brazil for a long time, and I'd never been there because it's quite, quite hard to get there. You have to be going there.

Benjamin Moser
You're not going to ever be stopping by. And I was so bored after a few hours, actually. But you liked it? I think it's a wonderful place for two days, let's put it that way. Okay, well, that's true.

I had a week. I think maybe that was the first time. I kind of went a little bit stir crazy there. That's far too much. Speaking of dutch novels, a lot of the great dutch novels actually take place in Indonesia, which was the Dutch East Indies.

And they have a lot of. The thing is this colonial life. Everybody's sitting around waiting for tea at two, and then they're like, somebody's going to come over at 315 and then they're going to have another cup of tea and then they're going to go on a walk for 15 minutes and they're just really bored. And they're in this little kind of hill station communities and then there's this threatening foreign country around them. And my experience in Brasilia was often like, I felt that colonial boredom to it, but I didn't have a job.

You know, a lot of people who work there, they do have real jobs in the government or in the embassies or. Isn't it striking to you how much more colonialized Brazil feels than Indonesia? Well, I mean, because Indonesia got rid of the Dutch, and the Dutch also never left their language there. But Indonesia is a colony of the Javanese. I mean, thats something that I feel is not quite seen.

When you go to the other island, you realize they really impose themselves on these quite different nations, really. So its a different kind of thing. Now, as you probably know, at least in broad brush terms, manufacturing used to be about a third of brazilian GDP, and now its about a 10th. That's a big drop. So Brazil is deindustrializing.

Tyler Cowen
What is the political economy of a future deindustrialized Brazil? Well, I think you're seeing it now. I mean, I think that the idea of free trade, and I know you're an economist, I mean, so you know more about this than I do, but the idea of free trade is that, let's just figure out where it's cheaper to make this, and if we can make this in Guangzhou and ship it over to Sao Paulo for cheaper than it would cost to set up something in Sao Paulo, then lets do it that way. I mean, of course its caused great instability. Its caused a rise in extremism as weve seen in so many countries.

Benjamin Moser
It has a slight different tinge there, but its basically the same problem. I think its fascinating that in the last 20 years, the main latin american ideology since World War two, which was import substitution, gone. So you have the market just flooded with cheap shit from all over the place that offers a seemingly attractive option to consumers. But ultimately, Brazil has not done very well in the last couple of generations. What do you think is the underrated brazilian city to visit?

Oh, Recife, I think. Have you ever been there? No, but it seems like such a mess. I'm even a little afraid to go. I've been to Salvador and that was possible, but I always had to have my guard up entirely.

Tyler Cowen
I've been to Rio and been shot at and have eleven year olds chase me. Yeah, shot at. Chase me with pointed sticks. I was not shooting, to be clear. So.

I love Brazil. It's one of my favorite countries, but I always worry about where I should and should not go there, but make. You could be brazilian. Physically, you could be brazilian. You don't have to easily.

And people, they come up to me, they speak Portuguese when I'm brazilian. Yeah, yeah, yeah. You could fit in perfectly. I mean, I'm a little bit. I mean, I talk Portuguese, so it's different.

Benjamin Moser
No, go to Recife and Olinda. No, it's fantastic. I mean, I always. I've. Listen, I've spent so much time in Brazil, I feel almost dishonest that I've never been mugged, but I really haven't.

I mean, I feel like I'm not a true Brazillophile until I've, like, had a kidney removed by some drug lord. But I've always had a great time there. I don't know, is recife the place you go to have that happen to you? To have a kidney removed by drug lord or. Yeah, I mean, I'm telling you, I'm missing out.

I'm going. I'm hanging out with the wrong people. I think I need to run with a rougher crowd. I like to run with Brazil. Even a boring city like Cora Chiba, I think, is very nice and has wonderful food.

Tyler Cowen
There's not really anything to do there, right? I've only been there once. It's not my favorite. I've been. I mean, I went to Porto Alegre again a couple years ago, where it hadn't been a long time.

Benjamin Moser
It's not. I mean, it's a totally decent. I think to live there, it's sort of easier than it would be to live in the northeast. But I love the northeast. I mean, if I have to choose, I'll always go up to the northeast.

Tyler Cowen
Why did modernism so persist in Brazil? Well, I have a whole long theory about that. I've actually kind of written a book about it in Portuguese. Short book. This is the auto imperialism book.

Benjamin Moser
That's right. Which I wrote a few years ago. And I thought I was going to finish writing it and make it a real book in English, and I never did. Maybe I will sometime. But Brazil desperately wanted to be modern.

It desperately wanted to join the modern world. It desperately wanted to project itself into the world. There's a great sense of inferiority among brazilian intellectuals that goes back, really, to the 19th century. They always write about this. Actually, all these books back here.

This is all brazilian literature behind me. And Brazilians found, I think, in art and especially in architecture. A way to create a new identity for themselves. And that's my problem, I think, with Brasilia, the city. Is that it creates a new look.

For something that doesn't require changing any social structures. So this is a great subject on the left. The Brazilian left forever. Is that Brazil is actually an incredibly conservative country always. And the great frustration was that incremental change.

Of the sort of kind that we would associate with maybe Franklin Roosevelt was just impossible. And so I think a lot of that energy. And this is just my bullshit theory. I don't know if it's true. But I think a lot of that energy gets subsumed into things that you can do.

I mean, you can design a building. You can do these things. But in Brasilia, you see that actually, this modern design. Is actually the outward appearance. Of an incredibly authoritarian and very repressive state.

So those things could go together. That was Niemeyer's big discovery. If you were trying to sell a reader on Clarice Lispector. Who had never read any lispector before. How would you make the case, and where should they start?

I would, first of all, not make the case. I would say to read the hour of the star. Which is her last book. Which was the first book of hers that I ever read when I was in college. And if you love it, then it'll be one of the great things that ever happens to you in your life.

And if you don't love it, then move on, read something else, because it's so. I once read this story about this canadian sex toy. Just to diverge for a moment here. And it was this toy for women. That was so big.

That it had to be brought over in a van and set up. Don't ask me where I saw this. This was a long time ago. I wish I could find this article. But apparently it was so complex, this thing.

That it would either give these women these incredible orgasms. That would last for weeks. You know, be the greatest experience in their life. Or if it was just like the radio signal was a little bit off, you'd feel absolutely nothing. And I always think about this canadian sex toy.

Because there's some sorts of art. That just really, you know, it can be the same art. It can be the same frequency. That will blow someone's mind. Somebody else just won't feel it.

And I've known a lot of Brazilians who actually are quite troubled by their failure to appreciate Clarice Les Spector because they feel dumb. Shes this great national and international icon. Shes this incredible figure. You feel stupid. Its like not getting Shakespeare or something.

But I do think its so specific, and its a specific kind of person. And I think if you read the hour, the start, itll take you an hour, 80 pages long. If you feel the frequency, then it'll be one of the great things that you've ever read. And if you don't, then it's okay. Everybody's different.

Tyler Cowen
You once wrote about Susan Sontag, and I quote, so much of Sonntag's best work concerns the ways we try and fail to see, unquote. Please explain. Well, I mean, this is what on photography is about. This is what a constant interpretation is about in Sontag's work. And of course, you know, in my new book, the Upside down World, I talk about how I'm not really great at seeing, particularly.

Benjamin Moser
I'm not that visual. Like, I'm a person. I'm a reader, I'm a bookworm. Often when I've looked at paintings, I've realized how little I actually see. I mean, I really, sometimes I do feel embarrassed by it.

Like, you'll read the label, it'll be like three sentences, and it'll say, like a man with a dog. And you're like, oh, like, I didn't even see the dog. You know what I mean? Like, I just like on these very basic levels, I just think, oh, like, if I don't, if someone doesn't point it out to me, I really don't see. And I think that that was one of the fascinating things about Sondheim is that she was not only not really able to see, but she's actually quite terrible at seeing.

And this was especially true in her relationship. She was very bad at seeing what other people were thinking and feeling. And I think because she was aware of that, he tried very hard to remedy it. It's not something you can force, you know, I mean, you can't force yourself to like certain music or to like certain tastes that you might not actually like. What was Sontag most right about or most insightful about?

I think, you know, this question of images and what images do and photography and how representations, metaphors can pervert things. She had a very deep repulsion to photography. I mean, she really hated photography. And this is why a lot of photographers kind of hated her, because they felt this, even though she doesn't really say it, she really didn't trust it. She really thought it was kind of wicked.

And at the same time, for somebody who had a deficit, I guess you could say, in seeing, who really relied on it to kind of understand the world. And so I think that tension is very instructive for us because now, I mean, she already says 50 years ago, there's all these images. We don't know what to do with them. We don't know how to process them. I mean, forget AI, forget russian trolls on Twitter.

I mean, it's such a. Uses this word. I really like hygiene a lot. She talks about mental hygiene, how you can kind of clean the rusty pipes in your brain. That's why I think reading her helps me, at least, to understand a lot of what I'm seeing in the world.

Tyler Cowen
You think she will simply end up forgotten. So, in my view, against interpretation is one of the great books. Many of the essays in there are amazing, but I don't see it resonating with most people anymore. And will it just disappear? So as you mention in your book, she spent, what, seven years collecting Antonin Artaud into some kind of volume, and he did theater, and he's forgotten.

And she must have thought he was quite important. Right? Will she just meet the same fate? Well, I think. Doesn't everyone?

I mean, it's very New York stuff, right? And New York is not really the cultural center of the world or even the United States anymore. Well, I'll tell you, I can tell you a lot about that. I have many thoughts about that. I'll try to give you a couple.

Benjamin Moser
The first one is that I'm from Texas, so I knew exactly that. I mean, I'm a New Yorker by, you know, some sort of, in the way that most New Yorkers are, you know, the valedictorian from Boise. I knew that people in Houston have heard of her, but they don't read her. And I know that everybody in New York is obsessed with her. And they thought, this is, I can tell you, the sales of my sontag book, it was reviewed everywhere.

It won this prize, all that kind of stuff. But it didn't sell that much because it sold to a few groups of people who care very passionately about her. That's not to say it shouldn't. I think that her legacy is very uncomfortable. It's very spiny.

It's kind of cactusy. It's like chewing the cactus with no, without removing the exterior. It demands a lot of the reader. I mean, I was saying about dutch literature that you can't read anything before World War Two. And I don't think it's much different.

I mean, you're. Do you still teach? Sure, of course. I mean, does this sound unfamiliar to you in terms of. I mean, all my professor friends say that the kids have read a whole lot less than they had 15 or 20 years ago.

Tyler Cowen
I think that's true. But what I do find is there are certain superstar figures, Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Tolkien, who are probably read more overall, reading is probably down. Diversity of reading past the superstars is definitely down. That's my impression. Well, I think that you see this with a lot of things all over the place.

Benjamin Moser
The big brand does really well. CV's is doing really well. But maybe all the shops that used to make up the rest of the city have been decimated. They're not there anymore. They're all replaced by chain.

So you have a few chain brands. I think that's true in clothing, it's true in media. It's true in literature. But that's not to say. I mean, Sontag is.

I don't love reading Susan Sontag. I mean, it's not what I want to read. If I pick up a, if I have an hour to kill and I'm sort of sitting on my couch, she's not the writer that I would want to pick up. That said, I've learned more from Susan Sontag than just about anybody else I've ever read because she really, I think if you like, if you're the kind of boot camp reader, you know, that I always was like, I always really liked difficult books. I liked studying things that were kind of hard because I felt that there was something in there that I could maybe learn from them.

So there's a kind of masochism to it. But at the same time, I would hate to think of my life without Sontag. I think I would be stupider. I think I would be less able to cope with the reality of the world. I have huge gratitude for having read all that stuff.

When you read it all together, it's not all so great. She's quite prolific, actually. She writes a lot. People read a couple of books or a couple of essays, but there's a whole lot of sontag to read. I think if you look in the library of America, they have a lot of it in those two volumes now.

It's just majestic, altogether beautiful. Why didn't Camille Paglia become the next Susan Sontag? That's a great question. She denies that she wanted to be when I spoke to her, but she. Clearly did yeah, she clearly did.

I mean, I think she had an identity, though. I mean, Camille is a complex subject of her own, but she had, she has an idea of herself that she needed to stay in the academy because she felt that teaching and interacting with actual humans was a way of preventing the kind of aristocratic excesses of people like Susan Sontag, which I think is absolutely fair enough. I mean, I don't. I can't imagine Sontag as a professor. I think that would have.

It was just. That's just not who she was. But I think that Camille also, as much as the reason she's a fascinating person, I think, is that she both staggerizes a lot of the aspects of the celebrity culture that Spontag was a part of and a very successful part of, while also having quite a lot of excesses of her own. I mean, I don't know if you saw when Sinead O'Connor died a few months ago, a few weeks ago, there was this clip going around the Internet of Camille saying, if I were Nate O'Connor, I would hate myself, too, and I would want to kill myself. And, you know, it was something that was just like, this was before the Internet when now if you say something like that, you're putting yourself out there as a kind of, I'm an obnoxious person on the Internet, but this was 30 or 40 years ago.

And in fact, Sinead does kill herself and does have this very miserable life and was abused and all this. So, I mean, I think Camille is a. I'm not going to write a book about her, but I think that there is a book to write about her because she both criticizes and also embodies a lot of these questions. I once did a podcast with her, and I think of all the guests we've ever had, she produced the greatest number of words and greatest number of words per minute. Oh, my God.

No, I remember I had to type down the first time I talked to her. The first thing she said to me, which I thought was hilarious, I said, is this on the record? You know? And she said, everything I say is on the record, which I thought was hilarious because so many people would kind of whisper in the corridors and sort of try to make themselves interesting. And she's, you know, she owns it.

Yeah, she talks really fast. Now to our final segment on the Benjamin Moser production function. What did you learn from via Snipal? Oh. Oh, you've been looking at my instagram.

Tyler Cowen
Oh, I don't know where I saw that, but you mentioned it somewhere. Oh, I mentioned him in the book as well. Versus Naipaul is my absolute. He's probably the most symbolic figure in my head. He's the person that occupies the most space of all the people I've known.

Benjamin Moser
He is a kind of almost oedipal figure for me, a father figure, someone that I knew very well when I was younger. I venerated him and I think I became a writer because of him. And I also stopped reading him because I wanted to be a writer, because his influence was so overwhelming on me. And the sense of never being able to measure up to him was so depressing that I had to find my own way in the world to use the title of one of his novels, having that as an example, that integrity and that self immolating, self sacrificed belief in the importance of literature and writing, I had to go away from it. I started reading him again about four or five years ago and I thought, actually, you know, when I won the Pulitzer Prize, that's when I thought, now I can read him again, rather than diminishing him in a sense.

Sometimes, like the writers that make a huge impression of you in adolescence or as a young person, you know, you come back to them 20 years later and it's just not as much, not as important. And he was in fact even better than I remembered. I just, again, I had to stop reading him because the impression that he makes on an impressionable young person is too overwhelming. When I read a turn in the south, I greatly enjoyed it, but over time I somehow grew not to like the book, especially after I spent more time in the south. What's the correct stance on that one?

Tyler Cowen
He strikes me in part as just, he was a grump, but in a way that infected his writing. And he disliked groups. A same about a million mutinies. Quite an interesting book, but ultimately not willing to understand what makes India work. I dont think he thought India worked.

Its done relatively well since he wrote million mutinies, I think better than almost anyone had predicted in some ways. Well, million mutinies is a book about positive change, right? I mean thats a book about how the mutinies are the people who, instead of being imprisoned in their caste function, have liberated themselves of the, the son of the railway conductor becomes a dentist. Its that story of mobility. But I mean India is of course an increasingly repressive and increasingly dictatorial country, which Vidya did not see coming quite as much and to a certain extent supported, I think.

Benjamin Moser
If you. When did you last read him? Not recently, not in the last ten years. Yeah, I mean, go back to those. Even those early novels he writes in his early twenties are so incredibly good.

Like Miguel Street. I mean, I just. Away in the world is one of. The great books in a free state is fantastic house for Mister Beeswas. Well, and there's so many of them.

I mean, he writes these books. I'm sitting here like trying very hard to write. If I can write a page a day, I feel like it's, you know, I can take the rest of the week off. He wrote books of a quality and of a penetration that I find maybe he's. I mean, I wonder if he's read much anymore.

He's been canceled every which way for all sorts of reasons. I don't think he's read much anymore. Do people read him? Not that I hear about. You don't?

Tyler Cowen
Maybe some people my age, but I never hear about him from younger people. We'll see. I mean, I think it's. It's, it's. It's a.

Benjamin Moser
It's a body of work that's produced in one lifetime that I think, particularly probably in India and the Caribbean, will perdue. I mean, I just read the mask of Africa about a year ago, which made no impression on me at the time it came out. I kind of thought he was old and he was kind of grumping around gabon or whatever. He was obsessed with this idea of animal sacrifice and human sacrifice. And I knew Vidya.

One of my main commitments socially and ethically is for vegetarianism. And I knew that he was always thought of as a vegetarian, but he wasn't actually a vegetarian. This is kind of funny. I don't know why. I think it was the british thought, oh, wow, he's indian.

But there was sometimes meat in his house, which I always found quite shocking, actually. But he had a hindu sense of the uncleanness of meat. Not just the sinfulness of killing, but that meat was dirty. And he goes to Africa and he goes all over the place and he is only really talking about this idea of that power can be taken from the organ of a slaughtered animal or human. This is something that I know exists in Africa.

But in this book, he ties these ideas of sacrifice, of power, but also with this extremely falking view of environmental destruction and what it means to kill animals and to destroy the forest. I put that book down with a chill in a way that, you know, I'd missed it the first time I read it. I just didn't. I thought it was kind of boring. What do you think of the biography Cervidia.

Tyler Cowen
I'm sure you know it. Patrick French's biography. Oh, I think that's who wrote it. Oh, no, you mean Paul Thompson. Thoreau.

Thoreau, yeah. Dravidia's shadow. Yeah, it is. Different titles, I think, in us and UK. Well, no, there's a Patrick French biography called the world is what it is.

Benjamin Moser
Patrick French who just died. Yeah, but I mean, there's the rest. Of the rue's book. Yeah, sir Video's shadow. That's right.

That book is 100% accurate if you knew him. 100% accurate and yet totally wrong. I mean, he was one of these people that if you want to put him through the kind of cancel culture filter and say, this was an obnoxious thing to say about women, this was an obnoxious thing to say about black people, this was an obnoxious thing to say about gay people. It's all there, it's all fair. And he was a provocateur.

He loved getting a rise out of people. And he was funny. He was kind of bitchy. He was fun to talk to. I'll never forget.

I had, like, I'm from America, so I don't understand cricket. And we were in England. I was at his house, and he started. He was watching cricket. He said, benji must watch the cricket.

And I said, okay. I was like, but forgive my american ignorance, but I still don't get cricket. He sat there, and he was so patient, and he spent like, two or 3 hours. Because, you know, those cricket matches last forever. Explaining everything.

I retained zero of it. When I see cricket, I still have no idea what's happening. But he was very kind to me. He was very encouraging to me when I was young. God knows why.

He was a wonderful man. Why does Houston produce so few intellectuals? Or perhaps you will challenge the premise of that question. I'm from Houston, and I'm something of an intellectual, but I won't challenge the premise of the question. I think that when I was growing up, Houston's changed a lot since I was growing up.

Houston is so much bigger than it was. It's so much more diverse. I mean, it's so huge. Huge and fascinating city of which I know absolutely nothing anymore. I think it's.

Calvin Coolidge said, the business of America is business. The business of Houston is business. It's a business place. It's a place where you go to ship 500,000 tons of crewed from Equatorial guinea to be delivered in Shanghai on Tuesday at 11:15 a.m. And everybody I knew growing up, of my parents friends and my teachers and all those people that were adults, I always thought that if you're good at math, you became a doctor, and if you're good at English, you became a lawyer.

That sounds almost like an exaggeration, but I didn't really know about all these other professions that people could have. The idea of culture was sort of an imported phenomenon. I mean, it's not now. It's quite different now. I didn't.

I mean, and my parents were pretty, you know, well connected people in the art world, literary world. My mother had a bookstore. She actually had two bookstores, one for children and one for adults. My father was a lawyer. I mean, I knew I had a pretty good introduction to the interesting people around.

But if I hadn't gone away, my mother said she wouldn't pay for me to go to college if I stayed in Texas. I mean, her parents sent her to college in Texas, and I think she would have loved to have gone somewhere else. But that was back in those times, those different times. I'm fascinated by this question. I think it's a really good question.

I think that places are so. They get a character impressed on them very early, and it doesn't really change, you know, because I think they just attract a certain kind of people. I don't know. I think I would be pretty lonely in Houston intellectually, in a way that I'm not here. Because even though this city I'm talking about Utrecht here, I wouldn't say I have this incredibly intellectual existence here at all.

I mean, I write books, but that's me in my house. It's not like some idea of Paris with Sartre at the next table or something. And it's not like that at all. I go get my dry cleaning every week and I go to the grocery store. I don't really have a social life like that.

And yet to think of being in Houston and trying to do this would somehow feel harder. I don't know why. Before my last question, let me just present your book again. It is the upside down meetings with dutch masters by Benjamin Moser. Very last question.

Tyler Cowen
What will you do next? Well, this is a secret, is to be revealed very soon. I, for reasons dealing with my agent, I cannot tell you. Is that mysterious and sexy? That's mysterious and sexy.

But then I need a different final question. The new project aside, what is it you will next seek to learn about? Well, because of Sontag, I spent a lot of time in the Balkans, in Bosnia especially, and then in Serbia, and Croatia. And so I am now learning the language that is the only language that has two alphabets and has four, at least four different names, which used to be called Serbo Croatian in the old days. It's now called Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian, and Montenegrin.

Benjamin Moser
It's all the same language. But I've been studying that for the last couple of years, and I feel like I'm really too old to learn another language, especially one that I don't really have any. And, like, if I had learned it 510 years ago, it would have been useful for this book. But now I'm just, like, obsessively studying Servo Croatian. And I have to say, I kind of love it.

Who knows if it. You learn so many things that have no point to them, and then they. Their point is kind of veiled in mystery. And then, and then eventually, sometimes they come in handy. You know?

I studied Swedish in college, which was another story, because I liked the professor of Swedish, who was the wife of a professor I knew and said, you should take Swedish. And I didn't have anything else to do in that afternoon, so I went. Swedish has never once in 30 years been of any use to me whatsoever. Whereas Portuguese, which I also studied in college, also completely by accident, has been one of the most important things in my life. So I think that when you study languages, you kind of, you open up that possibility.

Swedish, I mean, it's still. I'm still waiting for the moment that's going to come in handy. It hasn't happened yet. It's not going to be today. You'll still be waiting.

Tyler Cowen
Maybe you'll understand all the rules of cricket first. Benjamin Moser, thank you very much. Thanks so much.

Thanks for listening to conversations with Tyler. You can subscribe to the show on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your favorite podcast app. If you like this podcast, please consider giving us a rating and leaving a review. This helps other listeners find the show on Twitter. I'm Tylercowen, and the show is at cowinconvos.

Until next time, please keep listening and learning.