We, the People of Euro?

This essay was commissioned by curators Felix Vogel and Markus Miessen to be published alongside the exhibition, Scenarios about Europe: Scenario 3 at the Galerie für Zeitgenössiche Kunst, Leipzig.  The exhibition is one of a series being curated throughout Europe over the … Continue reading

Translating ‘offshore’.

Recent discussions about an upcoming manifestation of Headless at the Contemporary Image Collective in Cairo have highlighted an interesting aspect of the language used to describe xenospace.  When translating texts presented to a second Hydrarchy conference hosted by the gallery, … Continue reading

The first money devil?

An article by Maurice de Meyer in the French journal ‘Arts et Traditions Populaires’ from 1967, analyses a number of images of the Diable d’Argent of the kind looked at in a previous post.  Although the subject of the Money Devil is known to have long predated the surviving prints (from catalogues and inventories back at least to the 16th century), very few images survive.  The earliest known (at least to de Meyer in 1967) is an oddity from the Amsterdam Rijksmuseum dating from the second half of the 16th century.

It is an oddity because although the subject is the Money Devil, the iconography is completely different from all other extant versions.  Whereas later versions have the devil flying over a townscape mesmerising tradespersons with dropped cash, here things are quite different.  The Money Devil himself is very similar – he is covered in coins and carries bags of money - but he is rising into the air out of an open and overflowing treasure chest.  He is surrounded on all sides by the great and the good – priests, monks, bishops, the Pope, kings, emperors and other nobles – all of whom are trying to shoot him down with a vast arsenal of weapons; from cannon to bows and arrows.

From descriptions of other images now lost, de Meyer demonstrates that the presentation of the Money Devil evolved as circumstances changed.  The Rijksmuseum print was an image produced in the context of the Reformation, rather obviously appealing to the anti-Catholic sentiments of Protestant customers.  One of the main charges laid against the Catholic Church was that it was obsessed with money and riches – hence the Pope’s appearance in the foreground firing a cannon.   The poem that accompanies the image (in the three cartouches – translation attached) describes that mischievous nature of money, capturing the fascination of the great and the good alike.  The theme of shooting in the image is probably a visual pun on the word ‘tirer’ which means both to shoot and to draw towards.  The implication is that all these greedy people are trying to capture the Money Devil by shooting it down, but it just gets stronger the more they fire upon it.

Later versions of the image  retain echoes of these early renditions - in nearly all cases someone (often, for reasons that escape me, the ‘Artist’) is seen shooting at the Devil with a musket.   Whilst the ‘diable d’argent’ himself persists, the precise imagery is adapted to speak to contemporary themes.  As the image evolves, the anti-clerical Reformation theme is quickly dropped in favour of comment on the money obsessions of the emergent bourgeoisie.  Still in some ways a strong political message, but without the religious overtones.  Basically whatever was deemed the socio-economic evil of the day found itself linked to the Money Devil.

Interestingly, de Meyer also argues that the Money Devil could be a modern manifestation of the ancient figure of Hermes the Trickster.  As Norman O. Brown demonstrates in his analysis of the many roles he played  in the ancient Greek pantheon (Hermes the Thief’, 1950), Hermes was the god of the market-place and often associated with money and trade.  As noted in the previous Money Devil post, some of the Diable d’Argent figures include direct allusions to Hermes/Mercury as a Trickster.

The poem accompanying this image can be found here:  Le Diable d’A .

Protecting xenospace

David Cameron’s ‘tough decision’ to veto the emergency talks on the Euro was probably the least surprising event of the year so far.  Any attempt to create a functional ‘fiscal union’ among all European states was always going to be resisted by a British government made up substantially by former bankers.  Having made their own personal fortunes in the City of London and regarding it, wrongly, as the most significant element of the British economy, they were hardly likely to sign up for anything that would curb its excesses.

This of course maintains a problem for the Eurozone because, loath as I am to agree with anything Sarkozy says, the privileged and largely unregulated nature of London’s own xenospace has been a significant factor in the Euro’s problems.  British-based banks are not uniquely responsible for the reckless lending that has brought so many European states to their knees. But the financial system that centres on the City, driven by  that  heady combination of greed, arrogance and wilful ignorance, undoubtedly fuelled the crisis far beyond what might otherwise have happened.

That said, the vampiric nature of the City and of Europe’s many other offshore centres (Switzerland, Leichtenstein, the Channel Islands, etc.) is hardly new and should have been recognised by the architects of the Euro long before now.  This failure to realise that Europe has more than one economy and that the one using the Euro might not be the predominant one, suggests that the designers of the Euro were, to put it mildly, somewhat blinkered in their understanding of the nature of economic spatiality.  They happily forged an international currency that looked a bit like a normal national currency, but without the many formal and informal institutions that might support such an entity.  The belated scramble for some form of limited fiscal union seems woefully late in the day, even if it succeeds.  And that success is dependent not only on Europe’s leaders being able to rein in the xenospaces of offshore, but on the members of the Eurozone being prepared to cede a considerable part of their ‘fiscal sovereignty’ to Brussels.  Britain, predictably, has been the first to refuse to do this, but others are bound to follow.

The idea of European fiscal union is not new, but has never previosuly been attempted in any serious way because of the inevitable resistances it would produce from sovereign states (including, most prominently, Germany).  It is a measure of Europe’s desperation that it should now, finally, be attempted.  Not without irony, however, the first calls for it came not from Merkel or Sarkozy, but from Britain’s own buffoonish Chancellor of the Exchequer: former banker George Osborne.  In a rare moment of clarity when the extent of the Eurozone crisis really became apparent in August 2011, it was Osborne who first called for European fiscal union as the only way to resolve the currency’s problems.  He changed his tune pretty quickly afterwards, of course, but someone perhaps should remind David Cameron that what he has just walked away from, was Osborne’s idea in the first place.

“Hag-ridden” by money.

British research company Incomes Data Services today published it’s annual report on the pay of the directors of Britain’s biggest companies (those listed in the FTSE 100).  The report reveals that at a time when most workers’s wages are rising well below inflation, Britain’s bosses have on average awarded themselves a 49% pay rise for the year.

By chance, shortly after reading this appalling statistic, I came across the following quote from Keynes reprinted in Norman O. Brown’s wonderful ‘Life Against Death’.  It seemed an entirely appropriate response to this particular piece of news and (perhaps) an intriguing vision of things to come:

“When the accumulation of wealth is no longer of high social importance, there will be great changes in the code of morals.  We shall be able to rid ourselves of many of the pseudo-moral principles which have hag-ridden us for two hundred years, by which we have exalted some of the most distasteful of human qualities into the position of the highest virtues.  We shall be able to afford to dare to assess the money-motive at its true value.  The love of money as a possession – as distinguished from the love of money as a means to the enjoyments and realties of life – will be recognized for what it is, a somewhat disgusting morbidity, one of those semi-criminal, semi-pathological propensities which one hands over with a shudder to the specialist in mental disease.”  (From: John Maynard Keynes, Essays in Persuasion, p.369).

Do strait-jackets come in pin-stripe…..?