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University Daily Kansan Tuesday, January 18. 1955
What Else Goes On During Final Week?
For those who have the finals blues, for those whose own little orbits grow blacker as finals come closer, the following editorial is written:
Eleven prisoners await a verdict in China while the secretary-general of the United Nations pleads for their release.
Panama has acquired its third president in two weeks.
A strike in Great Britain paralyzed 52,000 miles of railroads. Premier Mendes-France and Chancellor Konrad Adenauer are trying to save Western agreements.
Chinese Reds very likely are campaigning to take over Thailand through internal subversion.
Congress ponders a 1,224-page national budget
Communists have attacked the Tachen Islands.
Costa Rica has been invaded.
Costa Rica has been invaded. Final week is here. —Gene Shank
There's More to Democracy Than Cars, Radio, and TV
Ask an American to describe the United States and too many times the answer will be something like this: oh, the United States is a free and rich country. Besides all of its natural resources, its wealth is represented by its industries which supply the people with cars, radios, television sets, washing machines, and other necessary things which so many other countries are crying for.
And so lies the American's evaluation of his country. To him his country's greatness is represented by the material necessities produced by American industry—a country complete in itself and needing no knowledge of the rest of the world.
Nayantara Sahgal, the daughter of Mademoiselle Vijaya Laskshmi Pandit and the niece of India's Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, gives examples of this feeling in her book published last year, "Prison and Chocolate Cake."
In this book the 27-year-old Indian girl tells the story of her life, beginning with her departure from India in 1943 (when most members of her family were in prison because they were taking an active part in Gandhi's non-cooperative movement) and ends with her return to India in 1947, when her mother was Indian ambassador to Moscow and when she herself acted at Delhi as hostess for Nehru.
Through the book her description of Indian politics, home life, and reactions to America makes one realize the complete ignorance and lack of interest in foreign nations that exists on the part of most Americans.
Give foreign countries cars, radios, and television sets and they will be as happy as America is. This seems to be the general feeling in the United States. Yet the contrary is probably true. A country which has never known these luxuries has never missed them and no doubt does not even crave them.
The basic cause underlying Americans' misconceptions about the wants and needs of other nations is the lack of understanding of foreign peoples and cultures. Miss Sahgal could never satisfy the curiosity of Americans, who expected something "extraordinary, exotic, and different from their own experiences."
Americans, trying to extend democracy, tell of the wealth of America and the need for the "necessities of life" in other countries. Their speeches reach deaf ears. These people know that for a democracy to exist, much more than material things is necessary.
If the people of the United States would use more effort to learn how people of other nations live instead of trying to convince them that they need the products of our American industrialism friction between countries would be lessened.
Before Miss Sahgal could enter the country, she answered such questions as "are you a moron or an idiot" or "state categorically whether you plan to overthrow the government of the United States." Such questions do not show understanding, but distrust for persons considered different and strange.
Distrust has become a common word in the United States. If actions of a country are not understood, then that country is distrusted.
The year 1955 could hit an all-time high in cooperative international relations if the basic ingredient—learning and understanding others—is practiced by all Americans. —Nancy Neville
A-Sledding We Would Go
A hill plus snow usually means a sled ride. But not at the University of Kansas. The department of physical education says, "We have no facilities for skating sports equipment, but no facilities for sledding or ice skating."
Today the University has snow.
The University also has a hill.
This, to us seems a shame. The Campanile hill easily measures 300 yards from the top of a steep slope to the bottom of the same steep slope. One of the frustrating aspects of our childhood was that we lived in a flat Kansas town. We have nothing against the Kansas prairie, except that it does not provide a suitable environment for sledding.
It's too bad the University has been so shortsighted in not providing for snow. When snow does hit this campus, it's a wonderful sight. Wish we had a sled.
Our Campanile hill does.
—Ron Grandon.
Letters
To the Editor:
It's time the artist stated his point in this argument concerning the Chi Omega fountain. I must say it is not a very fortunate position in which to be caught; however, I have only the UDK and the people of Kansas to thank for my predicament.
The plaques and the fountain, I will agree, are a very undesirable addition to the campus, for they reflect nothing that embodies the spirit and culture of our age. However, they are equal to the remainder of University design and probably as good as the people of Kansas. Ask Mr. Theodore and Mr. Cook's parents about the fountain. I'll bet they think it's wonderful because it looks so "Italianish."
First of all, I designed only the plaques which surround the middle bowl of the fountain, not the entire fountain as the UDK so likely gave me credit. Secondly, I had no prior knowledge for these plaques were previously decided, and my job was simply that of a technician.
Until the artist is appreciated, respected, and given freedom in his choice of themes, this type of work will result. I direct this not only to Kansans but to all who live under a democratic flag.
The progressive designer-artist often faces indifference or intoleration from the public, the ignorance of officials, the malice of conservative artists, the laziness of the critics, the blindness or timidity of buyers and museum. Van Gogh was "free." He also starved. Now his paintings may be worth as much as $100,000.
I have my money and I'm happy with the money. The people on the selection committee got what they wanted and they're happy. But nobody got a work of art.
Sayeth the fool: Vacation's fine,
but it's good to get back to school
If you the students didn't get what you wanted, I am concerned. You, someday, may be in the same position, selecting a piece of artwork. I hope you will come to some conclusion regarding this problem. It's certainly a problem with which we, in the now free world, should be concerned—the freedom of the individual.
LITTLE MAN ON CAMPUS by Dick Bibler
Jim Bass senior fine arts
Strange that people are obnoxious only when their mouths are open.
"I've never had a student work so hard to pull down an "A""
Broadway Goes Too Far With 'The Bad Seed'
"All the traffic will bear" is a phrase that has been taken up by many in all walks of life as a business philosophy. It's a case of go as far as the public will allow—and then back up a little.
The philosophy has been carried to Broadway.
Maxwell Anderson—one of the biggest names in the business—is producing "The Bad Seed." And, like Mr. Anderson's past plays, this one will probably boost his bankroll by no small figure.
"The Bad Seed" has what is termed an excellent cast. But that's not important. "The Bad Seed" is a largely read book. But neither is that important. "The Bad Seed" on Broadway is now associated with the magic name, Anderson. But even that isn't important.
None of these things are being considered.
The story is important and is being considered.
The book and the play are built on the premise that man can be born with murder in him. It's a premise that many persons debate and that most doctors agree is so much hogwash.
Briefly, the storv is this:
The child ( a girl in this case) inherited from a grandparent the "trait" of murder. In the course of the play she kills three persons. And all the while—at least until she's told otherwise—the mother thinks daughter is a little angel.
When mother discovers that her child has killed three persons she (the mother) decides to put an end to the whole thing.
She does.
With an overdose of pills she tries to kill the daughter. With a gun she kills herself. And the word is that the play "ends on an even more tragic note." If there are "more tragic" notes then the song must really be a dandy.
Broadway theater-goers are pretty well calloused to the goingson of playwrights. But where do you draw the line? How much can you cram down the public's collective throat before regurgitation?
"The Bad Seed" should be a good test.
But sadly enough it's a seemingly inborn desire to see the bad in life. There seems to be a certain thrill derived from murders and blood, sex and sadism.
And if the public does want something bad it has it.
"The Bad Seed" is bad indeed. —John Herrington
EDITORIAL STAFF
Editorial Editor    Letty Lemon
Editorial Assistants
Dot Taylor, Amy DeYong