and even the deliberate raising of peoplenlike cattle to be tattooed so that theirnheads could be cut off and sold.nCould this be paradise? It would seemnthat perhaps civilization, by comparison,nisn’t quite as bad as one thought.nHow could anyone ever have thoughtndifferently.’ That, in fact, is the burdennof Daws’s work. He shows how the ambivalencenof Europeans—simultaneouslynattracted to and fearful of savagery,nproud of their civilized achievements,nbut afraid of the price they had paid fornrepression—spawned some men whonwere so personally flawed that theyncould only resolve these tensions in annutterly destructive fashion. That is,nwhile it is true that the cultural milieunprovided both positive and negative,ncreative and destructive possibilities,nthe individuals Daws looks at were incapable,nbecause of personal deficiencies,nof doing anything but accepting the leastneffective cultural tools at their disposal.nIt does not take a profound mind to seenthe striking parallels to their psychologicalnbrethren of today who cannot usenthe positive but only the negative andnuseless tools available in our culture,nbut more anon.nD aws first discusses John Williams,nfounder of the Ixindon Missionary Society.nIn some ways, Williams is thencream of the lot. He saw his work asnbeing the civilizing of what he believednto be the savagery of the South Sea Islanders.nAbove all he wanted to get thennatives to do productive labor. At firstnVol. 4, No. 5 September/October 1980nThe Conservative Principlenhe was successful, but then their culturenreasserted itself and the children ofnmissionaries became more like Tahitians,nwhich disturbed him no end.nEventually, unregenerate islandersnkilled and ate him. His story seems tonsuggest that a naive underestimationnof the depth and power of the savagesidenof human nature can lead tondisaster.nMelville, on the other hand, fearednfor the natives who were under missionaryninfluence, although his fears of debtors’nprisons for Polynesians seems tonhave reflected his own experiences. Henwas fundamentally afraid of savagery,nand he made his heroic Typee girls looknall but European in order to dilute theirnsavagery. He, like other Utopians, wasnlooking for paradise. But in Moby Dicknhe seems to say it is ridiculous to thinknthat paradise can be uncontaminated bynsavagery. There seems little doubt thatnHerman Melville appreciated the powernof civilization, but he was fearful ofnthe dark savagery of human nature.nRobert Louis Stevenson was far lessnperceptive. In an immature way henthought of Samoans as toy soldiers, butnhe was terrified when savage emotions,nwhich he stimulated by simplistic politicalnmaneuvering, turned into real bloodshed.nA typical liberal fool, his romanticism—tingednwith the ever-presentnliberal paternalism—brought about realndestruction.nPaul Gauguin, however, was no dewyeyednliberal. His aims were to manipulatenand to control, especially sexually,nTyrmand: Editor’s Comment; Lynch on Sennett (Authority); Hitchcock on Galbraithn(Annals of an Abiding Liberal); Thompson on Nisbet (History of the IdeanofProgress); Navrozov on Salisbury (Without Fear or Favor); Tanner on Auchinclossnand Hazzard (The House of the Prophet, The Transit of Venus); O’Sullivannon Spitz and Sanchez (Barefoot in Babylon, Up and Down with the RollingnStones); Moser on Sowell (Knowledge and Decisions); Walsh on Schneidern(The Woman Who Lived in a Prologue); Scott on Cowley (The Dream of thenGolden Mountains); Schall on Adler (How to Think About God); Gottfried onnSchorske (Fin-de-Siecle Vienna); Hilton on Gardner (Freddy’s Book); Levinenon Zinn and Lader (A People’s History of the United States, Power on thenLeft); Carson on Schmertz and Woods (Takeover); Lawler on de Borchgravenand Moss (The Spike); Commendables; In Focus; Liberal Culture; Journalism;nScreen; Correspondence; The American Proscenium.n32inChronicles of Culturennnthose lower-class women of Brittanynand the brown-skinned women of Samoanwho did not threaten his precarious selfesteem.nHe thought of his nature asndual and saw the “cruel side” as “Indian.”nIt was precisely the savage hensought, precisely the primitive henwanted. But it was because he had noncapacity for human connection and empathynthat he chose Samoans as hisnguides and victims. They too are wellnknown for their shallowness.nWalter Murray Gibson intruded intonthe politics of Indonesia and Polynesianto help his small brown brothers, butnalways with the intent of using them,nand with a personality that was clearlyndisordered.nIn fact, what characterizes the romanticizersnof the primitive who werenselected by Daws is their transparentnpathologies, which show up in the guisenof an ideological attachment to Rousseauiannnoble savagery with a tinge ofnsmug, self-satisfied European superiority.nWhat is startling, perhaps even depressing,nis the snap of recognition thenreader feels when he is reminded, evernso much, of the present. One also feelsna sense of nostalgia. At the very least,nthese fools could damage only a fewnlives, since their capacity to destroy wasnlimited by logistic and other factors.nToday, the coercive Utopian who shoutsnthat civilization is decrepit and evilncan, amplified by mass telecommunication,npropound his half-baked theoriesnto the world, with modern technologynproviding the nihil obstat to his ideas.nMoreover, the media commentator whonpiously agrees with the Utopian, andnwho, through his own ignorance, isnunable to question sharply and coherentlynthe assumptions of the neobarbarian,nlends a spurious credulity and—innthe cases of our revered elder commentators—ankind of avuncular imprimaturnto the proceedings.nThe essence of civilization is not, asnthe island dreamers would have it, anboring lack of sexual excitement nor,nas the contemporary barbarians wouldn