Category: books

  • Review: One Hundred Years of Solitude

    Authors intro: Please don’t read this review if you are concerned with spoilers, as this review is more of a recounting of the story and contains plently of information about the book that could ruin it for you. Having said that, please do read the review if you are curious about reading the book or have already read it. At risk of defeating myself from the very beginning, I will also add that this is not my best writing. The review in its idea and original state is over ten years old and it’s painfully obvious to me that my writing was pretty poor back then, not that it’s any better now – but I’d like to think so. What I did do is go through the text and edit many parts of the original, to come down to what we have here. I haven’t read the book in a few years and I always wanted to come back to this review and make it something wonderful after re-reading the book again, however I don’t imagine that happening anytime soon. It’s one of my all time favorite books and deserves the justice of a proper review, although it is also so popular and read around the world that there have been thousands before. I wanted to put down something meaningful about the book that perhaps hasn’t been said (much) before and for the moment, this is it. Perhaps some day I will turn into one of those authors who deletes and burns all their old work, until then cheers.

    The book One Hundred Years of Solitude written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a story of success and failure, dreams and reality, traditions and change, enemies and friends, love and revolution. It is the story of the Buendia family and its evolution over decades of time; frozen and shifting. From the creation to the destruction, to destiny vs. free will, the family traverses solitude exploring the limits of human knowledge. This brief incomplete review relates to how the novel references critical moments in the history of what has come to be known as América Latina.

    Marquez was born in the small town of Aracataca, Columbia in 1928-2014. It was rumored that he grew up forever retaining the ability of viewing and describing life through the eyes of a child. In time he became a journalist publishing some short stories in the 1950s. In 1967, One Hundred Years of Solitude was published and popular hysteria began to grow around Marquez and the book, eventually earning him the Noble Prize for Literature in 1982. He’s credited with inventing the style of “magic realism” in the novel and also went on to be a large figure in what has been called the “Latin Boom” – an increase in the popularity of writing from Latin America during the 1960s – 70s.

    The events that took place in Marquez’s life are mirrored in his writings, often referencing situations experienced as a young child while at the same time expressing the possibilities of love, sadness and the isolation of solitude that can only be achieved through the passage of time (desolation / hope).

    Shortly after the story beings you meet Melquiades or a traveling gypsy. Melquiades and his group of fellow traveling gypsies are the harbingers of knowledge and the fortunetellers of the future. Meglquiades dress was described as a “large black hat that looked like a raven with widespread wings, and a velvet vest across which the patina of the centuries had skated.” They bring with them magnificent devices, which eventually help expand the scientific knowledge of the Buendia family.

    Through these exposures the Buendia family and town of Macondo are first exposed to modernization, technology and the globalization that would soon ravage their small town. Melquiades brought with him magnets, telescopes, magnifying glasses, ancient texts, Portuguese maps, instruments of navigation (astrolabe, compass, sextant) and an alchemists laboratory, which was later used for many purposes including the production of photos and little gold fishes. Melquiades tells the Buendia family, “Science has eliminated distance… In a short time, man will be able to see what is happening in any place in the world without leaving his own house.” Just as Jorge Luis Borges alluded to in the The Aleph Marquez also foreshadows the creation of networks such as the Internet, the development of cell phones, radios, and television that all aid in the increasingly intertwined proximity of the world.

    After his encounter with Melquiades, Jose Arcadio Buendia one of the founders of the town of Macondo begins to spend vast amounts of time in the constant quest for knowledge. In many ways, this is the creation of their destruction, as great desires go astray. For instance, his “will to power” brought him to contemplate for hours on end formulating ideas on how to create the perfect weapon. Later on, he creates a notion of space and is able to travel across oceans and vast uninhabited territories without ever leaving his study a la the Internet. It is his idea of non-existent time, by the formation of self-awareness through the passage of time. Jose Arcadio Buendia also finds that the earth is not flat, like the one dimensional lifestyles everyone had thought, but rather round like an orange, which everyone in Macondo deems as insanity until Melquiades returns to Macondo to inform its inhabitants that it is true, the earth is round. Melquiades the eternal traveler and technological innovator, soon succumbs to a number of rare diseases that he contracted from the sickness of the world to eventually pass on the dunes of Singapore.

    In the beginning, the town of Macondo is an example of people living in an anarchistic state with one another, without the rules or knowledge of government and the constraints of the church. However with time these institutions of power and authority all encroach on Macondo’s blissful state. At first, Jose Arcadio Buendia sets up the houses in a way that allowed everyone to walk an equal distance when fetching water from the river and positioned the roads in a certain way that no house received more sun than other houses during the hottest hours of the day. The community provided for itself and had an egalitarian approach to daily activities, without any assistance from outside institutions like the government. With time, the government in the town strengthens due to choices made by certain inhabitants and soon everyone becomes more dependent interdependent on the government, reverting and causing chaos to many of the alternatives they had once practiced.

    Jumping back a bit, when the “founders” of Macondo where traversing the earth looking for a place to call their own, they came across a Spanish galleon that had been abandoned and was covered with moss that was nowhere near the ocean. Growing next to the galleon was a field of poppies, alluding to the colonization of the land and the cultural influence that came with it. During this exploration, Aureliano Buendia (yeah, it’s difficult to keep track of all the names, I know) was born with his eyes open and a stern intensity that drew upon seemingly unlimited amounts of inner strength. His inner dynamism makes his parents believe that he was born a revolutionary, yet as another infamous figurehead once said, “Revolutionaries are not born, they are made.”

    One of the most important items that the gypsies bring to Macondo is that of ice. The ice greatly aided in the ability to chill foods and other related tasks, however it also hastened the downfall and eventual end of the Buendia family. As the business of ice grew in Macondo, the need to expand and continue profiting brought fourth the construction of a railroad that in turn would eventually lead to the development of other areas. One such company was the United Fruit Company, which went on to exploit Macondo for everything it had. After viewing the ice, Jose Arcadio Buendia foresees a future where Macondo is colder and the houses are built of ice blocks, foreshadowing the climate change brought about by industry and civilization.

    In another aspect, and with the passage of time, as everything related to in this book – the Melquiades tribe disappears and a new tribe of gypsies appear. This new tribe doesn’t bring with it knowledge as Melquiades tribe had, but instead travels only to bring entertainment. Upon questioning where Melquiades tribe has disappeared to the Buendia family is told that his tribe became extinct because they exceed the limits of human knowledge. In a similar twist, this quest for knowledge and the limits of humanity soon lead to the end of the Buendia family – destroyed by their will to learn and experiment.

    After the disappearance of Melquiades tribe Jose Arcadio Buendia decides to look for the philosophers stone in his eternal quest for knowledge and to appease his desire to understand; while his two sons Aureliano and Jose Arcadio constantly take refuge in solitude, in order to escape the outside world. Jose Arcadio Buendia states that “If you don’t fear God, fear him through the metals,” yet in the end of his search for the philosophers stone and knowledge, he comes to the conclusion that all he really needs and desires is the love of his wife, Ursula.

    Progressing through the book, the town of Macondo is soon striken with a plague of insomnia. With the insomia comes the loss of memory and all things blur together with the past, present, and future all becoming the same. This leads Jose Arcadio Buendia and Aureliano to start writing inscriptions on all the objects in their house and over town. Soon a sign appears on the street that says “God Exists”. During this time of forgetfulness Jose Arcadio Buendia decides to invent a memory machine, which in many ways allude to the future of computers, calculators, and other devices used to aid in recalling information. He conceives this apparatus to be a spinning dictionary that rotates on an axis, which teach the things deemed to be the most important aspects of life, perhaps even similar to the machine used in the movie The Matrix.

    As the story develops, Melquiades returns from death, because according to him he was not prepared for the solitude, which engulfed him. Melquiades tells Jose Arcadio Buendia that in the future their family will not exist and that Macondo will be a place of glass houses. In yet other turn of events, Jose Arcadio Buendia begins his search for God using the camera, only to later conclude that God doesn’t exist or at least that he couldn’t capture it on film. His quest for knowledge and often the blasphemy that comes with it, eventually causes the town to believe that his antics are a sign of lunacy. Soon they tie him to the great oak tree outside of town for the rest of his life, where he continues speaking in the language of Latin instead of his native tongue.

    In the end, the story recounts the struggles and experiences of Buendia family through their marriages, children, wars, revolutions, and a plethora of other events. The story is one of sadness, with the departure of the family and the seemingly lack of hope for the town of Macondo after one devastating tragedy after another. On the other hand, one can view many of the experiences with a glimmer of hope for a different future by learning from the past. Yet for Jose Arcadio Bandai and Aureliano; they find out later in their lives that all time is the same: the past, present, and future all revolve around each other and in the end time makes no difference to them.

    One Hundred Years of Solitude is a novel in regards to love and the desire to constantly seek knowledge through many different outlets. It recounts the story of civilization and it represents the struggle of humankind within the area of love and solitude and the clashes that one family experiences in living as we know it.

  • Letters of Insurgents: A brief commentary

    authors note:

    This text was originally an attempt at an online book reading & discussion over at http://insurgentsummer.org/ . The site is unfortunately currently down as of December 2013 (and before), but one can still process the gems of wisdom from the wonderful Internet Archive page lookup. It was a series of blog entries that have since been edited with many revisions and changes made, but still keeping the overall flavour. Times have changed, my writing was really bad – it hopefully is a little better here; it’s still really bad, but the pictures are nice.

    Part One

    So, things are heating up over at “Insurgent Summer”, a participatory reading of Letters of Insurgents. Tomorrow is the deadline for the first letters to be completed, and I’ve just finished them, so I’ll try and write down some thoughts to get the ball slowly rolling. I’m going to try and do this for every set of letters, so we shall see how that goes. It is really exciting for me to be reading this book again (I first read it last summer), since I consider it to be within my current top all-time favorite books. Finnegans Wake by James Joyce and One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez are my other two favorite books currently, so it has good company. This will be my second time reading the book, but I’ll only be commenting on the weeks reading section (or the previous sections, when related) – so I’ll try not to bring up any spoilers before their time.

    What I’d really like to do, and what I wanted to do before when I read the book, was write an all-encompassing review of the work – however, this never really happened – and instead we’re left with this. Perhaps, these weekly posts along with other commentary from individuals will help in the overall creation of an in-depth review of the book someday [unfortunately it looks like with the site offline, this information is no longer readily accessible except with the way back machine https://web.archive.org/web/*/http://insurgentsummer.org]. If you don’t have a copy of the book, which is out of print and can be difficult to obtain, you can read it from The Anarchist Library here http://theanarchistlibrary.org/library/sophia-nachalo-and-yarostan-vochek-letters-of-insurgents. The original book was scanned, machine read, human edited, and uploaded to the library for specifically for this online reading.

    The book takes the form of a series of incredibly touching letters between two long lost friends, Yarostan and Sophia. Do you write letters to your friends? Prisoners? How has letter writing has changed with the advent of computers, e-mail, cell phones, and text msg? It would seem there is much less of this actual long-form letter writing, and much more of the short instant msg shared by technology. It is a lost art. As much as I enjoy the fact of being able to quickly communicate with friends; at the same time, I really miss the personal touch of the post. Reading Letters of Insurgents kind of makes me envious of friends who can write such eloquent long-form letters, and express themselves so-well in this manner.

    Visions of horror are inverse utopias so beautiful tears come to my eyes

    There is so much to comment on in the first letters alone, if one is to really delve in (a bit of a cop out on my part, no?). But, that’s tough, and it’s only Thursday – so we can leave it for the easy going… for the moment at least.

    If anything, I will try and comment a bit further in comments on the first part and continue with some posts on the other letters. And most of all, have fun this summer. Saludos!

    “In a context where any word or gesture can lead to the dreaded arrest there’s no freedom”

    – an excerpt from Yarostan’s first letter

    Part Two

    losing your illusion in the land of gigantic objects and monstrous toys

    Hello there world. It has been a busy week, with the official start of summer, and one more set of letters.

    One idea that really sticks out in this set of letters that of illusion. In true Gunz ‘n Rose’s fashion, we find ourselves losing our illusion, only to shed it off for another illusion.

    Since we all know we’ll eventually die, since any of us might die tomorrow, are all our hopes and dreams illusions?

    – Sophia (2)

    How does one

    go about shedding their illusions,

    losing them,

    like death,

    nothing else is imaginable

    Shedding our illusions, repressing our wants, forgetting our possibilities: these are the slogans of the ruling order; coming from you they sound bizarre.

    – Sophia (2)

    I recall the time some years ago, when I was living in La Habana, Cuba seeing a distinctive orange cargo truck with the words “viva la ilusión” spray painted on it, toting the circled A for anarchy meandering through the city streets.

    What is your life project?

    The following are headlines from the media: (of course only jokes, but actual quotes, just with titles that define them from the get-go!)

    Yarostan, the killer:

    “At first I shot to avenge my parents. Later I just shot; my only concern was to hit.”

    – Yarostan (2)

    Sophia on friendship:

    “A complete lack of human warmth, understanding, sympathy, comradeship. A cold, dispassionate disection of an animal.”

    – Sophia (2)

    Sophia on Hakim Bey:

    Can you really be saying that insurgents only rise against the ruling order so as to reimpose it? Can you really be saying that the only dreams of rebels are dreams of authority and submission?

    – Sophia (2)

    Sophia on the radio:

    The radio is an instrument which kills communication; it robs people of their tongues; it broadcasts the voice of a single individual to millions of listeners, reducing them to passive receptacles. If communication has the same root as common and community, the radio is an instrument for uprooting all three.

    -Sophia (2)

    Sophia on teaching:

    “I decided during my first teaching job that I wasn’t going to let myself be reduced to a means of production for the production of means of production.”

    – Sophia (2)

    Sophia on life:

    “I’ve tried to show you that my whole life has revolved around the experience I shared with you and that all my life I’ve sought to communicate with you.”

    Well, goodnight all. Till, next week and then some. Saludos…

    ps. sophia = much sweeter? love struck? and regretting leaving paradise?

    Part Three (y más)

    Dancing in the Dark (you can’t start a fire, without a spark)

    If you haven’t been paying attention, the folks over at Insurgent Summer have made some great posts about the book so far and I’ve really enjoyed reading their thoughts, as an addition to the book. Some things we have in common, and other things I probably would have never realized if I hadn’t read their thoughts.

    I’d like to briefly comment on one area that is really important for me. It’s dancing, and to be honest I’m a terrible dancer (in terms of official dance, a la salsa, etc). But, I love to dance – I mean, I love to go wild and lose myself in the music, in the passion of movement/moment, and going crazy with your friends, basically having a good time (don’t stop me now!). It makes me feel good. I think one of the problems with society is that people forget how to dance. My mom, who is a warrior – has really helped me realize how important stuff like this in life.

    “But you just said, ‘It takes doing.’ Dancing is doing! Poor Jasna is always so sad, and she was so happy when she danced.”

    Jasna is the sad, lonely, solitary being that loves to lose herself in books. She literally loves books and they are her extreme, reading.  And read. And read for days on end, nothing is more important – on being caught up in the life of books.

    I feel in love with the Daft Punk album Homework when it first came out, and I was in my very early teens then and it made me want to dance. Music, plays such an important part of so many peoples lifes.

    You can do anything you want

    “impossibility is a term of logic and reality doesn’t observe the limits of logic”

    – Sophie (page #382)

    Don’t get me wrong, I actually really enjoy writing on a keyboard/screen/computer, but at the same time there are things about handwriting stuff that just blows me out of the water. There are so many things I like about handwriting – a few of them are, looking back upon, reading it years later, in your hands, no screen, the writing style and way of forming words / fonts that develop and begin to show with time. Plus, I don’t know – but it just seems that something is different when you hit keys vs. actually writing the words out with your hand, certainly not as fast – but none-the-less refined.

    Today, after I woke I spent the entire day riding bikes with a friend out to the country, escaping from the city. I thought about Sophia and Ron (plus Sabina) riding their bikes out as far as they could go. We found things that we never knew about before, and traveled to places unknown – it was wonderful. Then tomorrow, (now today) one more day before the world of work resumes.

    These days off vs. days of work, are special for me – and I’m sure many feel the same way, unless you’re a Luisa. Some of us work much more than others, and sometimes I think it is one of the most important things to spend a day doing nothing, like a days spent walking around aimlessly on city streets like Sophia or weeks on end spent reading books like Jasna. Actually, Jasna is kind of funny – it seems she reads to lose herself from reality and create something that is unreal, like an imaginary illusion. Or, just as Yarostan remembers, it’s not my life project to find myself in death, looking back realizing that I never really was alive.

    Here are some quotes that I marked along the way:

    Yarostan on species being:

    All around me human beings are attempting to come to life as human beings, as universal individuals, as species beings, each advancing with all and all with each. (page #193)

    Zdenek on representation:

    I think humanity is finally rejecting what has always been an impossible project, the project of representation. The present proliferation of major and minor pharaohs around the world is the final and ludicrous stage of that impossible project. My life can’t be lived as a representation; my representative can’t realize my aspirations, take my steps or engage in my actions. The pharaohs are the final and definitive proof of the impossibility of representation. I think we’ve all finally learned what took me so long to learn, namely that I’m robbed of my enjoyment if my representative enjoys himself for me, that my hunger remains when he eats for me, that I don’t express myself when he speaks for me, that my mind and my imagination stagnate when he thinks for me, and decides for me, that I lose my life when he lives for me.” (page #199)

    Hugh on friends [to Sophie]:

    My new friends don’t need you. What you carry inside you, what surrounds you, whether you intend it or not, is all the rot we’ve started to shed. (page #409)

    Imagine someone saying this to you. Sometimes, we all need a bit of a reality check, some more than others – and I suppose really in the end this is what it must have felt like to have this said about you. I like this because even if it sounds pretty mean, it also feels like inspiration. Where do we find what moves us each day? Is it anger that drives you? Something else, or perhaps better a combination of things? Do you even know what drives you? Or what you drive for?

    Sophia on school newspaper:

    That group of students didn’t disperse at the end of the school year, the way we did. They kept their publication going.

    I think this is an interesting quote to think about, because it actually seems like a constant problem among student groups (or even other groups who may have some form of seperation) who have a running publication. I imagine the time and distance of a summer to be huge gap between doing and non-doing – so how does one, keep the metaphorical ball rolling?

    Sabina on what it all means:

    There’s nothing to understand, Sophia, and nothing to fit into. It’s your life to do with as you will. There’s no structure. Nothing is banned. Everything is allowed. No holds are barred.”

    And I will leave you with that, and now that I’ve caught up again with the reading, after a monstrous never-ending summer took hold – I look forward to keeping a more steady grasp on the writing, and thinking a little more critically about the book. Cheers!
     

    Letters of Insurgents: Just Dance

    A rather funny comment, yet touching – that was said the other week was something like this: “gosh, I think it was worth visiting just to see [insert name here] going wild on the dance floor.” I don’t know about that, but I can appreciate the sentiment, obviously dancing around with your friends is wonderful. And, how could it not be?

    Zdenek on dancing:

    “I dream of nothing else! I haven’t danced for over twenty years and I’m bursting with the desire to dance!”

    ***

    Mirna on the real Mirna:

    “you might not like her as well as you like your shepherdess”

    Out of the other parts of what I’ve read so far in Letters #6, this quote was one that stuck with me. In many ways, this book is fascinating because each one of us can relate to it in some way with the characters. As for Mirna – a shepherd growing up on our small family farm in the middle of the countryside. Although, I think for Mirna, she didn’t really like the animals that much – and almost secretly dreamed of the city.  We imagine growing up on a farm to be one of the best possible situations today, although it is up in the air. Rewilding, falling off the map, going off-the-grid, is the anti-civilization dream, but you can’t escape everything. We barely ever made any money.

    ***

    Justice – “Dance”

    Broken Social Scene – “Meet me in the basement” (video inspired by G8/G20 in Toronto, check out all the dancing!)

    Reality is starting to incorporate our dreams

    Maybe what’s happening is that we’re all becoming children again. Our rigid roles and characters are dropping off like dried skin. We’re fascinating to each other because each one of our acts might be a total surprise, at any instant our personalities might change completely. Like children, we’re not exhausted by what we’ve been and are; life is ahead of us; we’re no longer dead.

    – Sophie, (page #561)

    Yesterday, August 20th was Fredy Perlman’s birthday. Are birthdays important? I don’t know, but they are nice. It also marks the end of Insurgent Summer, and even though I still haven’t finished the book yet (so close!), here is a brief post. Like Yara, I will be spending the next week going to the mountains, or rather you could say – someplace far away in the middle of nowhere Adirondacks. Goodbye Internet, and goodnight neverland. Perhaps, I may finish the book there, and even write my final thoughts, upon a rock somewhere like Lem. Or not. Lem, IRL would freak me out in some ways and seems a bit wing nut – or crazy/insane (almost) as society may think. Don’t hold your breathe.

    “The contradiction between the subject of those books and my own mindless drift became unbearable to me.”

    – Sophie (page #570)

    Oh, really?

    no army can be “popular”

    – Yarostan, (page #510)

    This quote reminds me of something my mom always told me growing up – that “no one ever really wins a war”.

    How about something less lethal… like, books – you say?

    Sure. On a totally different note, although when put through Kevin Bacon’s nine degrees, things seem alright.

    Drawing a line between love and (anti)politics

    What’s a book? Is it a self-realization of an individual’s life in the context of living others? Or is it self-realization as a closed compartment, for example an “insurgent,” a category that remains separate from all the other separate categories?

    – Sophie

    Back from the Mountains

    In typical fashion, almost a month late – over the last weekend I triumphantly finished reading Letters of Insurgents. This was my second reading of it, as I had read it the summer before as well. I don’t think, I will read it next summer, but perhaps sometime years from now, again – certainly. It is a really tremendous book (what is a book though?). Fredy Perlman is one of the greatest story tellers and writers to have graced the professions. Example:) When was the last time you started crying after reading a book? Never?

    A note about the writing part: I’m kind of amazed at how much some people managed to write [others participating in the discussion] – and even though I haven’t really looked over everyone else’s thoughts or some of the discussion of the forum, I did manage to read a few + plan to read the in the future. Often times I avoided the discussion, because I was behind in the reading (surprise, surprise) and didn’t want to read that far into the letters yet (even, if again). I guess an eight-hundred and thirty-one page book deserves a good lengthy discussion – or at least a major blockbuster movie to be made about it? So, who is going to make the Letters of Insurgents movie?

    tête-à-tête

    In no specific order:

    On being neighbors: Mr. Ninvino (spelling error? I have to look his name up in book again…) is the neighbor of Yarostan and Mirna. Doesn’t it suck when the people you live closest too are not that friendly? Or turn out to be complete assholes? This has been an ongoing experience in my life, living next to people, who you try and be friends with – but, they turn out not to be that friendly. Not that my family and my friends are hard to get along with, we’re really not. I think it is fair to say, that yes – some people just plain suck. Fortunately, I’ve had and continue to have some really awesome neighbors in my life – and if you can’t make it happen with your neighbors, then how are you living?

    If I hadn’t been exchanging letters with you for the past months, I would have reacted to those headlines the same way they did. And I realized there’s no such entity as a human species, or rather that it doesn’t recognize itself as such; it possesses no faculty of community. Either it never had such a faculty or it lost it. The beings I was among, including me, were not species-beings but closed compartments. Maybe what we’ve just experienced on both sides of the world shows that the faculty of species-being is something still to be created, and that it’s not the abstract “community” I’ve always envisioned but something very concrete, as concrete as Mirna’s “excursions.” Maybe it’s nothing but the willingness to touch, feel, look at and listen to each other.

    – Sophie [you say Sophia]

    On work: I really appreciate the many takes Letters offers in regards to the subject of work. All the way from not working (CrimethInc.), to factory jobs (NEFAC) and anti-civilization (Green Anarchy), to being a student and/or teacher (Institute for Anarchist Studies), or being into politics (RAAN) (plus more). As mentioned before, one attraction of this book is that it appeals to me, in part, because of shared experiences and the discussion that revolves around them. While at times it may not be large, often the little things can have the most impact, after all isn’t that what chaos tells us?

    On friendship: Pretty much the entire book is about the relationships experienced throughout living. All different, if you will, kinds of friendship and relations are developed throughout the book. Some are quite beautiful and others not so much, but the efforts to explore these kinds of questions is something I feel relevant to my life.

    When I first read the book, it simply amazed me how someone could write such long beautiful letters to one another. It kind of made me jealous that this stuff happens no matter, and I wondered what it would take for me to write a letter to one would sign with love? In the age of e-mail and instant messages, these kind of letters seem less and less common.

    Dreams are realized only during vacations?

    On that note, my vacation into this book isn’t over – I don’t think it ever will be – but, I’m going to spend some time in other places. Perhaps, I will add some more thoughts in the near future and as I read more of the other posts that have come from this reading of the book create a list of my personal favorites and edit all of this mess here.

    Until then, besitos and a very strong hug,

  • Keepers of the Fire

    The Strait: Book of Obenabi. His Songs
    From the pen of Fredy Perlman
    Black & Red, Detroit. 1988
    399 pages, $6

    The Strait by Fredy Perlman is a two-volume manuscript remembrance of the world changers. It is the songs and stories of colonization and resistance in what has come to be known as the Great Lakes region of North America as witnessed through the eyes of not only its humans, but the animals, trees, and everything living. There are two volumes of the book, with volume one being the story of how things came to be, and volume two being the resistance. Sadly, only volume one of the book was completed (a works in progress) when Fredy Perlman passed away in 1985.

    Lorraine Perlman documents volumes one and two of the book in Having Little, Being Much: A Chronicle of Fredy Perlman’s Fifty Years, giving an eye-opening look into some of the unpublished material and providing an intimate view of Fredy’s ideas. It seems that the two volumes were not long from being completed and one wonders if they will ever see the light of day again (or where they are). Prior readers of Perlman, can think of The Strait as being the narrative form of Against His-tory, Against Leviathan!, yet going deeper. Or, if you want to compare and contrast it to his other narrative Letters of Insurgents, you can think of it as the story of what came before all that. Actually, Fredy intended this, and his plan was to present himself as the translator of Robert Dupré’s manuscript. In 1851 Obenabi told (or sang to) Dupré (his nephew) these stories after they had both been jailed for opposing railroad construction across Michigan. Dupré’s great-grandson Robert Avis is Tissie’s cousin, who is friends with modern day “rememberer” Ted (the printer). Sabina is also the image of capital for volume two. And if that list of characters was to much for you, just wait till you try and read the actual book. Thankfully, also enclosed in the book is a fold out map that is around 24 inches long and 11 inches wide of all the characters in a “family tree” format.

    The incredible list of characters and happenings throughout the book can be difficult to keep track of, but come together as the story is woven together. Many parts of the book are graphic and the reality faced by the original inhabitants from the Invaders leaves nothing out. It’s not all violence and rage though, as it also winds through the lofty descriptions of nothingness. While it’s considered fiction, the book parellels many historical events and story-lines, retelling the tales of loss, destruction, and searching for hope in the Great Lakes region.

    The world changers – the names and language, the places, environment, and the everything inhabiting it: changed. It was like nothing before or as Noam Chomsky stated: “The Strait is like a more in-depth, more critical and regionally focused A Peoples History of the United States, but just without so much of a people fetish.”

    In Having Little, Being Much Lorraine Perlman wrote a magnificent introspective of the book, spilling the inside details on the book.  Her writing is insightful and full of some interesting tidbits, even if you haven’t read the book yet – but are a Perlman reader. Here is part of the song:

    In his notes Fredy wrote messages to himself about the crucial importance of the story being “oral.” His goal was to emerge with a song. He was surely aware that the hundreds of characters would not make the story easy to read, nor would the avoidance of the Invaders’ system of dates make the chronology obvious. But this story, emulating its oral predecessors, could not have recourse to the European establishment’s dating system. Births, deaths, plagues and battles correlate events described by Obenabi and Wabnokwe, the narrators of Fredy’s story. As setting, he chose the place in which he was living; the title of the work is the English translation of “Detroit.”

    Here is some information about the seemingly never-ending list of characters in the book from Lorraine that will give a little more justice to the cast. Pay extra close attention to one of the names towards the end.

    The epic Fredy created needed all the individual characters. From his own experience Fredy knew that resistance to domination takes many forms. The choices made by a free people, individuals neither domesticated nor fettered by the dominators’ own ideology, fascinated him. He tried to put himself in their situation, hoping that their responses might help in his own efforts to resist. From fragments, he rounded out a personality and created a world of richly diverse women and men. Although some characters are taken as archetypes of their milieu, they never are mere representatives. Before choosing names, Fredy made for each “people” a list of names he had found while reading about their past. When a dictionary of words was available (as in History of the Ottawa and Chippewa Indians of Michigan by A.J . Blackbird), he constructed original names. Many characters have European names in addition to the descriptive appellation given them by kin. Although never mentioned explicitly in the finished story, Obenabi also answers to Benjamin J. Burr-net, Wabnokwe to Rebekah Burr-net. Some historical characters who spend long periods among Rootkin have non-European names. Thus John Con-err is known to Obenabi exclusively as Bijiki. The Labadie family figures prominently in events on the Strait and in Mishilimakina; Baptiste, Antoine (Le Sauteur) and Paulette appear as Batì, Lesotér and Pamoko, respectively.

    Coincidence? John Connor is also another character that was first mentioned in the 1984 now-classic Terminator movie. He is the leader of the future resistance against Skynet, and while the book’s character may be a little different – it seems a little too ironic that a movie character is also named after him (plus countless others).

    Perlman always a lover of languages and a speaker of four (FOUR!), conducted the characters throughout in their respective language. The commentary is that of life experiences and everything that comes with living in a world that disappears right before your eyes. Not often has something vanished so quickly, replaced with that of the illusion of a different society. Asked if it is all a dream, the dreamer continues their waking rest.

    I dissolve. There’s only water. Water with a dream in its depths, like moon’s reflection, a liquid yolk wrapped in a watery blanket, a seed in a womb, a dreams that’s roused whenever sun’s yellow hair caresses or moon’s cool tongue licks the water’s surface and makes it ripple. (p. 22)

    Health is a world without Invaders; they love power and hate life. Stories of destruction and the spread of smallpox covered blankets with complete regions burned over and heads scalped is the slow spin into chaos that erupts from invasion. It becomes appallingly routine, almost so much that is seems everything is forgotten. Maybe this is the wrong sentiment, but the world changes so fast, that often it is hard not to forget. Or is it the things we only choose to forget? Lets talk about where we live and sometimes how we forget.

    a great fear: they who for ages had celebrated and sung and recorded their event-filled trajectory feared that soon none would remember it, soon no living person would have ancestors who had followed that path, soon there would be no memory of Eastbranch Rootkin ever having existed. (p. 210)

    Some of the most memorable scenes from the book are the dream lodges that the youths escape to. And thinking about who you are, not thinking at all, or simply using it as excuse to get out of responsibilities. Visions, illusions, animals, and some solitude deep in the woods – dreaming. Trying to figure out who you are could have never been more relaxing. And then, contrast it with this description of the Invaders religion, which could plainly be described as “no fun at all”.

    My fear made me listen carefully to everything the Robes told me: the earth where my ancestors lay was hell, the forest was the Devil’s lodging and animals were his creatures, festivals to regenerate the earth were orgies; enjoyment of earth’s fruit was evil, we originated in sin, our lives were a painful burden, our salvation was death, and after death we would be regenerated, but not all of us, only those whose who had believed the Word – that’s why we had to seek guidance only from the carries of the Word, the Blackrobes. (p. 42)

    Peace and happiness have vanished. And, what if things had turned out a little differently? Is this too ridiculous to ask? Volume one leaves it at that and then some. The story feels incomplete, yet finished – maybe just like this review. The works were never intended to stand alone, perhaps that is why reading it is a little strange some have mentioned. And as winters blanket encompassed the night and the air became still, they listened to the sounds of the woods hollowing, and in the distance, the whistle of an oncoming train.

    He told the Invaders that human beings weren’t made to languish in prisons of their own making. He told them no animals crippled and stunted its own kind, and no animals embarked on a war against any and all creatures that were unlike itself. He warned them that any who embarked on such a war would turn the very elements against them and would gag on the air, be poisoned by the water and be swallowed up by earth. (p. 303)

    Fredy Perlman at the Anarchist Library

    The Strait in Having Little, Being Much

    Originally published at The Anvil Review http://theanvilreview.org/print/keepers-of-the-fire/ and posted here with some major fixes & editing.

  • Jorge Luís Borges, Infinity, and the Internet

    Jorge Luís Borges, an Argentinean writer who is well known for his many short stories, some of which discuss such fantastic themes like dreams, libraries, labyrinths, god, and the less fantastic –see also, more real – like los gauchos (imagine Argentinean cowboys) and tigers.

    Borges’s works of fiction, intertwined with the metaphysical have made him one of the most well known writers to come out of the western hemisphere during the 20st century. For the sake of this review, we will look at the relation between Borges, infinity, and the Internet. Five different short stories by Borges which relate to these ideas will all be briefly mentioned; the stories include The Aleph, The Library of Babel, The Garden of Forking Paths, Funes, the Memorious, and the Theme of the Traitor and Hero [all available for free reading on the Internet at the above links].

    First some background on why Borges may be  of some interest to anarchist thinkers. When Borges was younger his family moved to Europe (1915-1921), where he was introduced to the avant-garde Ultraist movement in Spain. Ultraism can be described as being in opposition to everything that is thought of as Modernismo. Some have even compared it to Italian and Russian futurism, Dadaism, and French surrealism. In 1921 Borges moved back to Buenos Aires, where he started writing for and distributing avant-garde Ultraist leaning publications/texts. Often this would include him wheat pasting the texts (broadsheets) all over the walls of the city. Sadly, as Borges grew older, he drifted away and came to regret these ideas – even going as far as trying to buy all of the old texts in order to make sure they would be destroyed so no one could ever read them again. Like the maximum ultraists of today, who are ‘waging a life-and-death war against consensus reality’, I like to think of these younger days of Borges as some of my favourite. Honestly, we all grow old – it’s just to bad some of us become grumpy as well.

    That’s very Borgesian of you to say…

    It is thought by some that Borges was one of the first ever to write (and think) about the future of the Internet. While this may be a bit of a loaded statement, because it all depends on how you interpret things, it remains an intriguing idea. In his work’s of fiction, he does this writing in a round-about way; often hiding these gems beneath the surface of the page. Borges wrote the above mentioned texts during the mid 20th century before the major developments of the computer and the Internet began to be dreamed of and developed.

    In the 1960′s with the creation of ARPANET, a project of the United States of America government (USA) whose aim was to create a network to aid communication. A common myth about the Internet, was that it was created to combat / defend against catastrophe – a silent spring – during the Cold War, however this tall tale isn’t exactly true.  Only later on, using the ideas from ARPANET, did the Rand Corporation start developing ideas about how to use the Internet as a weapon (nuclear fail-safe) in practice. While ARPANET can be seen as one of the original projects for developing what has come to be known as the Internet; Borges had only years early wrote about similar ideas – such as a library that is infinite, or a place/object where one can go to see everything in the world.

    In 1949, Borges wrote The Aleph which speaks of “the only place on earth where all places are — seen from every angle, each standing clear, without any confusion or blending.” With the aleph, we have a device in which one is able to see the entire world from one place, almost exactly what computers and the Internet have become for us.

    An idea – is only as good, as its inspiration

    Before The Aleph, Borges wrote The Library of Babel in which he states:

    Infinite I have just written. I have not interpolated this adjective merely from rhetorical habit. It is not illogical, I say, to think that the world is infinite. Those who judge it to be limited, postulate that in remote places the corridors and stairs and hexagons could inconceivably cease – a manifest absurdity. Those who imagined it to be limitless forget that the possible number of books is limited. I dare insinuate the following solution to this ancient problem: The Library is limitless and periodic. If an eternal voyager were to traverse it in any direction, he would find, after many centuries, that the same volumes are repeated in the same disorder (which, repeated, would constitute an order: Order itself).

    For Borges, the library is the universe and it is beyond count. It is composed of an indefinite number, perhaps even infinite, number of galleries. One can imagine, the Library of Babel being a place where you can find all the texts and works from the entire world – often organized in such a way, that makes it impossible to find what you are looking for. In 1894 Oscar Wilde quipped, “It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information”.

    According to The Economist (Feb. 27th, 2010):

    Wal-Mart, a retail giant handles more than 1m customer transactions every hour, feeding databases estimated at more than 2.5 petabytes – the equivalent of 167 times the books in America’s Library of Congress. Facebook, a social-networking website, is home to 40 billion photos. And decoding the human genome involves analyzing 3 billion base pairs – which took ten years the first time it was done, in 2003, but can now be achieved in one week.

    they go on later to say:

    Quantifying the amount of information that exists in the world is hard. What is clear is that there is an awful lot of it, and it is growing at a terrific rate (a compound annual 60%) that is speeding up all the time. The flood of data from sensors, computers, research labs, cameras, phones and the like surpassed the capacity of storage technologies in 2007. Experiments at the Large Hadron Collider at CERN, Europe’s particle-physics laboratory near Geneva, generate 40 terabytes every second – orders of magnitude more than can be stored or analyzed. So scientists collect what they can and let the rest dissipate into the ether.

    How does this library compare to what we know of today as the Internet? Of course, it’s enormous – have you ever heard of a yottabyte? Some have said  that it is currently too large to imagine – but to get somewhat of an idea, as of 2010 not even all of the computer hard drives in the world combined would equal one yottabyte of data [are we there yet? – message from 2013].

    In another short story, Funes, the Memorious Borges writes about a person who after falling from a horse and seriously injuring himself, finds that he is able to remember everything. How do we push the limits of our mind, our imagination, and our passions? In a sense Funes’s brain becomes more computer-like with his ability to remember things, and perhaps even machine like. Or is it more human to expand upon our ability to do things we once thought impossible? Is it true that we only use around 10% of our brain? And, what if we figured out ways to use more? Would we be that much smarter? More powerful? Is that what we want? For Funes, it seems the ability to remember everything turns out to be a curse.

    There is actually a condition called Hyperthymesia, with four confirmed cases in the world. It is defined as an individual who has a superior autobiographical memory. For instance, in the case of Jill Price – her memory has been characterized as “nonstop, uncontrollable, and automatic.” Supposedly, she became aware of her ability at age 8 (1974) and since 1980 can apparently recall everyday. Like Funes, Price sees this more as a curse, than something positive.

    Ghost in the Shell

    In one of the more well-known short stories by Borges entitled “The Garden of Forking Paths”, the comparison between the ideas within and the Internet have been made many times before.  When we browse the Internet, there are many different paths to see and perhaps follow, leading in the end to a distinct destination (or none at all). It has been mentioned elsewhere, that Borges arguably invented the hypertext novel from this short story; along with the fact that hypertext is one of the main concepts behind the World Wide Web.

    What does it say about free will if we are able to choose different possibilities like this while using the Internet or in real life? In another short story by Borges entitled Theme of the Traitor and the Hero it relates a fiction of characters who are all acting out a predetermined play (in a sense). History is seen as a combination of repeating themes, which is to say there is no free will. Interestingly enough, with the further development and exploration of computer technology, perhaps we may be able to study the idea of free will more closely.  Arguably, computers are much better at processing large amounts of data, and doing millions of mathematical formulas over short periods of time – although recently the human mind has been shown to harness incredible power as well. While Borges doesn’t exactly write of  chaos theory and non-linear dynamics it – having digested his other works it is something that is presummed.

    Borges wrote a lot of different texts – the majority of which are short stories. Some have even criticized him for only writing short stories, believing that it takes more from an author to compose longer novels. However, the profound themes and different subject matters in his stories seem wonderfully woven together. And honestly – after all, who doesn’t like being able to read a story in 20 minutes or so, and have it leave thoughtful ideas churning, that never seem to be at rest. Also, I have chosen certain stories over others, more fantastic ones, and as a writer it can be easy to manipulate these ideas. With that, I hope it is possible to see that I’m not trying to say Borges invented the Internet, however it is possible to see the inventors of the Internet reading Borges.

    *author’s note: this text was originally written in Spanish, and then translated back into English (the author’s first language) with a lot of tinkering, as well as a much need revision of grammar/vocabulary, thus making this text – pretty much, brand new. It was originally published on May 23rd, 2010 at The Anvil Review http://theanvilreview.org/print/jorge_luis_borges__infinity__and_the_int… This version has also been edited to fix errors and the problems only time can show.

  • Quijote Against the World

    “it’s not like it used to be… nobody cares about change… it don’t matter…” – My First Soul, by Auld Lang Syne

    Published during the Spanish Golden Age in two parts (1605/1615) The Ingenious Hidalgo Don Quixote of La Mancha[1] by Cervantes has become one of the most famous books in the world and is considered by many to be one of the most respected fiction pieces of all time. The story relates an epic adventure taken on by two main characters, Don Quijote and Sancho Panza. Quijote goes off adventuring, lead completely by his horse Rocinante, who goes where ever it wants, leading Quijote and eventually Panza to fight injustice, reclaim the world, battle everything that is “bad”, and (for Quijote) win the love of his life [Dulcelina]. The entire book, originally written in Spanish is quite lengthy and full of misadventures depicting the frequent failures (perhaps great success?) during the early 1600′s, Spain. There are many English language translations, but perhaps one of the best (that I recommend) is by Edith Grossman, published in 2003. There are also, some abbreviated versions of the story, with the editors choice of parts – so this may be more advantageous for the time strapped or for those wanting to get a feel for the book. Setting up for a complete and in-depth review, would be quite the research project due to the books length and complexity – this is a greatly abbreviated review of the book, and by no means are all things touched on. There have been many reviews before this one, and maybe many more after. The overall purpose of this review is to briefly compare and contrast the ideas and attitudes of Don Quijote and Sancho Panza surrounding their thoughts upon essential materials vs. that of spirit.

    First, I’d like to define a few things. The essential key materials are thought of as water, food, and rest – which lack thereof results in a deprived state and eventually death, they are the things you really can’t live without. Obviously on the other hand, you have non-essential material goods such as gold, silver, clocks, games/toys, ect. That aren’t truly necessary for survival. As for the spirit, one can consider it to mean belief in something, even if that something is nothing. Some more clear examples are things of the supernatural sort, like the belief in god, or even bits and pieces of ideas – like the existence of heaven and hell, ghosts, majik, and other oddities/occult. It is important to note and define these ideas because Quijote and Sancho each display varying characteristics and perspectives throughout the novel on these topics.

    So, the story goes: Don Quijote begins reading books about the adventures of various 14th/15th century knights-errant and their “heroic” deeds. Quijote, who is an older man, begins to spend all his time reading, and literally cares for nothing else, other than those old tales about “saving the world” and “falling in love.” Food, water, and rest seem of little importance to him, and eventually his reading habits drastically change his life. He begins to sell his land and other property, in order to buy more books to read. After sometime, Quijote emerges from the obscurity of his house believing – that in fact, he is a knight-errant, and his mission is to save the world and win the love of his life. Imagine someone sneaking out of their residence, after weeks of reading, hiding away, and building the most absurd self-styled armor a la knights-errant, to confront the world with, kind of sounds like some funny friends you may know. Yet, in the beginning of the end, Quijote gallops, or more like meanders out of town unseen and hidden, with his most unlike battle ready horse – Rocinante[2], not to be seen in town until his uneventful, yet dramatic return sometime later. He has no clue where he is headed, as he just lets Rocinante blaze the trail of his life.

    And so the story begins…

    ”The reason of the unreason that afflicts my reason, in such a manner weakens my reason that I, with reason, lament of your beauty.” (from Don Quijote)

    Don Quijote wants to create a more moral world, a model of the human effort, one many may think of as a form of utopia. He has a very pastoral view of life and society, a living anachronism against the encroaching modernity of Spain. In many ways Quijote is confronting the more modern economic approaches and technology that was happening in Spain at the time, and suggesting something more simple (yet crazy). For example, look at Quijote’s so-called insanity. How did this happen?The invention of the printing press, which allowed him to buy and read all those books about knights-errant, seems to be the main source of his insanity. It was also this easier and wider distribution of print that ensured Cervantes, the author of Quijote, made little to no monetary gains by writing the book during his life. “Pirated” copies would turn up throughout the region, with even the second half of Quijote being written by another author. Which, in turn prompted Cervantes to actually write the second half of the book some years later, because supposedly he was very angry with this authors take on a sequel to his original work. It should be noted, that Cervantes actually created a fictional Moorish author/chronicler for Don Quijote named Cide Hamete Benengeli. And in many ways killed Quijote in the end, so no one else could ever write about his adventures again.

    In making the author Moorish, it seems Cervantes reinforces the stereotype of the time, that anything a Moor does is probably not true. Therefore, making criticism of the book impossible, since it has already been refuted as utter lies. Clever in a sense, but more so it seems to begin to show some of Cervantes negative attitudes that were reinforced by society at the time [and continue to be]. Cervantes lived his life, one failure after another – first as a solider being injured, then as a prisoner, and later as an “unsuccessful” writer who seems to have lead a rather difficult life. The book reflects these reoccurring themes of failure surrounding Don Quijote (maybe Cervantes?) as he fights the battle that can never really be won, because it isn’t real. It is sad, but it is also an unfortunate reality that many of us know all-to-well. Like the saying goes, “la vida es dura” (life is hard).

    If we examine the idealism behind Quijote or what some have called Quijotismo (the movement of Quijote) it could be said that in many ways it is an idealism without respect for or sense of being practical. It is an ideal that doesn’t consider consequences or the irrationality of one’s actions. Quijotismo is most of all, a romantic idea or a utopia that is unattainable by the non-romantic sane, one can only truly realize it, if you refuse to identify between reality and imagination. At the heart, this ideal is created by the love Quijote feels towards Dulcelina, his dream lover. The love and companionship of Dulcelina is more important than food, water, and rest – something that perhaps dear readers are familiar with. Quijote refuses to realize that his love is imaginary, and that his love is perhaps not even interested in him. It is like he will never give up, trying to make the world a better place, yet deep down inside, what he just really wants is some love. Perhaps, Cervantes is again reflecting on some of his own life experiences.

    In the final chapters of the book Quijote returns to his home and with that some sense of what some may call sanity. In this way, Quijote becomes like his side-kick Sancho Panza, or the Sanchification of Quijote. Because while Quijote is for many, the raving madman throughout the book, Sancho always seems to act along much more practical lines. It is like Panza is the stable foundation for Quijote’s rocking-and-rolling all night long party house, that will probably collapse when the dancing begins, or maybe end up puking in the toilet the next morning. On the other side of things, Sancho Panza starts to become like Quijote, or the quijotification of Sancho; in this way, the two characters feed off each other and become one another. Once home, Quijote writes his will and gives all his belongings to his family, and while he originally promised Sancho an island that he could govern in the beginning of the story, he now wants to give him an entire kingdom. Unfortunately for Sancho, Quijote doesn’t really have anything to offer him, other than gratitude – not even a salary for his services. Just some (bad) advice maybe, and the memories to last a lifetime.

    While, it seems this whole time, perhaps all Sancho really wanted, other than protecting Quijote from danger, was his island in the sun. It is not even clear if Panza knows exactly what an island is, other than some form of payment. In a high contrast to Quijote, Sancho represents everything that is some-what rational and thought out (or what many call being normal). Food, water, and rest are the most important things in life, along with knowing that you’re going to be well-off tomorrow, the next day, and so on.

    Even the infamous Bill “NOT BORED” Brown has wrote an essay on the subject Sancho Panza’s priceless coinages which I will steal a quote from here (that is from an English translation of the book) regarding how Quijote recommends paying off Sancho:

    “I think you’re absolutely right, Sancho my friend […] I can tell you, for myself, that if you’d wanted to be paid for those lashes which will disenchant Dulcinea, I’d have long since, and very gladly, have given you the money […] Just consider, Sancho, what you might want, and then do the whipping and pay yourself, because you are guardian of my money […] Add up what money you have of mine, and then put a price on each lash.”

    Quijote and Panza are two very different characters, yet at the same time they are similar in the fact that they both can create some pretty wild dreams and become one another. They each have a great effect on one another, like any friend may have on your daily experience, and while at first Quijote seems to be the only one struggling against everything modern – soon his friend joins him, although it is already too late for Quijote. He has already returned to the miserable grind of reality and material goods and will soon die.

    Cinema

    Among the many movies made about the book, Orson Welles’s Don Quixote is one of the more intriguing ones to take a look at, one that truly deserves an entirely separate review in order to touch upon everything. For the purpose of this review though, I will only focus on one aspect of the film. In Rolling Thunder: An Anarchist Journal of Dangerous Living #6 (fall-2008), the following page appears:

    [photo pending, lost over the depths of the Internet]

    As you can see, there is the classic windmill imagery evoked by Don Quijote, however what is important to take note of is the text. Here is the text quoted from the image[sic]:

    “The Most Beautiful Six Minutes in the History of Cinema”

    Sancho Panza enters the cinema of a provincial town. He is looking for Don Quixote and finds him sitting apart, staring at the screen. The auditorium is almost full, the upper circle–a kind of gallery–is packed with screaming children. After a few futile attempts to reach Don Quixote, Sancho sits down in the stalls, next to a little girl (Dulcinea?) who offers him a lollipop. The show has begun, it is a costume movie, armed knights traverse the screen, suddenly a woman appears who is in danger. Don Quixote jumps up, draws his sword out of the scabbard, makes a spring at the screen and his blows begin to tear the fabric. The woman and the knights can still be seen, but the black rupture, made by Don Quixote’s sword, is getting wider, it inexorably destroys the images. In the end there is nothing left of the screen, one can only see the wooden structure it was attached to. The audience is leaving the hall in disgust, but the children in the upper circle do not stop screaming encouragements at Don Quixote. Only the little girl in the stalls looks at him reprovingly.

    What shall we do with our fantasies? Love them, believe them–to the point where we have to deface, to destroy them (that is perhaps the meaning of the films of Orson Welles). But when they prove in the end to be empty and unfulfilled, when they show the void from which they were made, then it is time to pay the price for their truth, to understand that Dulcinea–whom we saved–cannot love us.

    – Giorgio Agamben, Profanations

    Leaving the actual text aside for a moment, concentrate on the author, Giorgio Agamben of the above quote for a moment. If one were to see the text in the Rolling Thunder journal (image above), you will see that the quote is attributed to the authors Brener and Schurz. To my knowledge, the truth is that the editor’s of Rolling Thunder were duped into believing the quote was from Brener and Schurz. Perhaps, as the thinking may have went, if they knew it was really from Giorgio Agamben it may have not been published[3]. Not to get too far off topic here, but it is interesting to note that it appears at least to some extent, that another joke may have been played in return here (although, pure speculation). Recently, a new Politics Is Not a Banana #3 was released, however many have come to doubt that this new issue was actually created by the original folks involved in the journal, leading some to point fingers at the Rolling Thunder journal (CrimethInc.) folks. Whoever is it, or whatever the purpose – the humor and funnies are certainly appreciated!

    Moving back to the actual context of the quote, the lovely titled “Six Most Beautiful Minutes in the History of Cinema” regards a clip of the unfinished Orson Welles’s movie that was left out of early versions, but was included eventually later on in some versions. Overall, this cinema experience of Don Quijote is quite intriguing, especially when considered with the movie as a whole. In many ways, it is understand to be like the post-modern movie version of Quijote, instead of attacking ancient 16th century technology and society, he is battling 1940ish motorized scooters and movie screens. One interesting thing from the movie is some footage of a religious procession, framed along and sliced with footage of the Klu Klux Klan, which Don Quijote goes to attack. Overall, it is definitely worth checking, especially if you’ve enjoyed the book.

    So what is the big deal?

    Who knows, maybe this book may be of little importance to you. At times throughout it, I find it to be rather “fluffy” sprinkled with blossoming flowers that never end. Like, ever try reading some old Shakespeare alongside José Martí with some bananas thrown in. However, I do find some gems that are really good within the book for me. Perhaps, most intriguing – to playfully read the adventures against everything that life as we know it has become, to see through our imaginations, rather than with our misleading desires for the most trivial things in life. As someone wrote recently, the greatest thing of all is saving the world! A lot of the time, I find myself taking in and fully enjoying those moments of non-thought and thinking, where it has been shown that our brain is actually most active and full of energy. Don Quijote in a lot of ways, is the definition of tragic hero – even though I may disagree with what he actually fought against for the most part, (the Moors) and alongside (Christianity). Blame can be placed on Cervantes here, maybe not so much Quijote, after all he is just a character. Cervantes wasn’t exactly the most upstanding character, but still a tragic-hero in himself. It can be all be too confusing, seeing Quijote for nothing other than love, and against everything that might actually make sense – then applying some sort of reasoning to it. Quijote was certainly a radical in his time, just what kind of radical is up in the air…

    Footnotes:

    [1] please note that I decided to remain with “Quijote” instead of “Quixote” throughout the rest of the text, mostly because I prefer to leave names and locations in the original language / untraslated. Title originally in Spanish: Aventuras del ingenioso hidalgo don Quijote de la Mancha

    [2]

    Dialogue between Babieca and Rocinante A Sonnet
    B: Why is it, Rocinante, that you’re so thin?
    R: Too little food, and far too much hard labor
    B: But what about your feed, your oats and hay?
    R: My master doesn’t leave a bite for me.
    B: Well, Senor, your lack of breeding shows because your ass’s tongue insults your master
    R: He’s the ass, from the cradle to the grave. Do you want proof? See what he does for love.
    B: Is it foolish love?
    R: It’s not too smart.
    B: You’re a philospher
    R: I just don’t eat enough
    B: And do you complain of the squire?
    R: Not enough. How can I complain despite my aches and pains if master and squire, or is it majordomo, are nothing but skin and bone, like Rocinante?

    [3] “The editor of Rolling Thunder has expressed his disdain for the works of the author of the aforementioned essay, however, when the essay was sent to him under the name of a more palatable writer, it was prominently reprinted in the magazine.” — from Life is Definitely Elsewhere-A Response to “Say You Want an Insurrection” [a Crimethinc. text] [ http://www.anarchistnews.org/?q=node/10435 (this link has since expired and the archive is currently offline) ]

    Note: Originally published over at The Anvil Reviewhttp://theanvilreview.org/print/quijote_against_the_world/ . This text has been edited slightly from that, in order to better reflect and fix some grammar & wording.

  • José Martí, Cuba, and the Anarchists

    May they not bury me in darkness
    to die like a traitor
    I am good, and as a good man
    I will die facing the sun.

    -Part of Versos sencillos by José Martí

    José Martí, the famous Cuban revolutionary and prolific writer whose published works fill 28 whole volumes, including – children stories, letters, poems, journalism, theater, translations, notes, and essays on a variety of subjects ranging from anarchists to white roses. Martí is often credited as the “father of modernism”, especially in regards to Spanish-American literature. He was born in Old Habana, Cuba in 1853 and died in 1895 fighting against the Spanish there. Martí was and continues to be the haunting spectacle of Cuba. What follows, are some thoughts and minor research about Martí, specifically – his ten years spent living in New York City, his views on capitalism and work, and his thoughts about anarchists.
     

    At the age of 16, Martí was sent to prison for treason against the Spanish government, then in control of Cuba. He was soon exiled to Spain where he studied law and philosophy, but in the coming years he returned to Cuba, where he was again exiled to Spain. Eventually, in 1880 Martí found himself in New York City (NYC) writing journalism, translating articles, and working as joint consul for Uruguay, Paraguay, and Argentina. His time in NYC proved to be critical- as he helped launch Cuba’s third war of independence while there, by fund raising and organizing against the Spanish. Soon afterwards, as history has come to tell – Martí was killed near Palma Soriano, Cuba in the very first battle of independence. The legend goes that he charged into battle on a white horse, while wearing a black overcoat, making him a prime target, and soon after dying. In comparison to the sword, the pen was the mightiest for Martí, as the 30+ volumes of his collected works attest to.
     

    Being clever is a good way to start being free, rough translation

    For me, this exploration of Martí began when I visited Habana, Cuba and ventured into some of the many used book shops there. Book shops are interesting in Cuba, because there is often a somewhat limited selection amongst public sellers due to state censorship, but at the same time there is a plethora of old inexpensive books floating around, both above and underground – the most unusual, often dust covered little bookshops one can imagine with discounts on already inexpensive books. Of course, it is mostly all Spanish, but there is also old Russian language books and some English language books.

    A lot of time was spent browsing these shelves, and most all of them had one thing in common – José Martí; the man continues to be a controversial character even in death. The Castro’s use Martí in their five hour speeches and dialogues, even including him in their Constitution. While, at the same time their enemies, have also claimed him as one of their own; setting up media broadcasts from Miami, Florida and elsewhere to beam into the island. It’s a cat and mouse game on the radio, as one group radio broadcasts messages and the other side eventually jams the frequency. New and different technologies, plus less restriction on the availability of cell phones and other computer technology on the island has increased the chances of these types of messages not only getting in, but out as well. In the USA there has been some focus on well-known Cuban bloggers.

    The million dollar question, is that if Martí were alive today – what would he do? In reality, Martí would have more than likely disagreed with the current situation in Cuba – that being the 1959 revolution of Fidel Castro and it’s continuation. In the most basic sense, Martí spent his time struggling towards a free and independent Cuba. Martí is one of the most flowery and ubiquitous writers of the modern century, and while it is never certain as the dead remain silent, one may be able to distinguish ideas by looking at his writings on the anarchists of New York City
     

    For fourteen years (1880-1894) Martí lived in the “gran manzana” (big apple) of New York City (NYC). During this time, Martí experienced first hand the desolation of American capitalism, in regards to race, poverty, and the workering class. The worker – who, according to Martí, each day struggled for eight hours, fair wages, and an overall better world. We will examine two of his articles more closely: Grandes motines de obreros, alzamiento unanime a favor de ocho horas de trabajo…, published in NYC on the 16th of May, 1886 and Un drama terrible: Anarquia y represion… published on the 1st of January, 1888. These articles by Martí about the NYC anarchists appeared in the newspaper and should be thought of as paid propaganda, as his view is often unfavorable and can be seen as a product of the times.

    In these two articles and some others he explores the events leading up to and of the Haymarket Massacre. With these articles Martí helped inform and radicalize readers, not only in the USA, but throughout Latin America, and the world. In the texts, he presents us with a look inside the events that helped spawn Mayday and the International Day of Anarchy, while also helping to understand why these were inspiring events at the time. Part of his appeal to anarchists can also be found in his his homage to Albert Parsons written in NY on the 17th of October, 1886.

    When the trapdoors of the gallows were released on November 12, 1887, Albert Parsons had begun to say “Shall I be allowed to speak? O, men of America…” before his voice was cut short by the noose. Deeply moved by the injustice of Haymarket, José Martí continued to speak, in the name of the executed anarchists, for the poor and the hopeless, and for the Latin American republics threatened by U.S. foreign policy. Thus, the Haymarket affair underlines how Martí’s familiarity with, and critique of North American current events during the Gilded Age did in fact play a substantive role in maturing his views on labor and enabling his later critiques of colonialism.[1]

    In the first article “Grandes Motines de obreros…” He thought that since the American Civil War there had not been a more crucial moment in USA history. He wrote flowery that, the blood stained flowers of May signaled that there was not a more serious problem in the USA, than the problem of heartless capitalists and work. In response to the Haymarket massacre, Martí observed that the situation seemed to suddenly appear; as an uprising, spontaneously, even though the problems were already deeply ingrained within society and revolutionaries had been struggling against them since even before. Everything, just kind of took off.
     

    The workers in the USA were uprising – demanding better working rights, and undermining the capitalists oppression. In the glorified eyes of Martí, the streets seemed to always be filled with workers, fighting against the police and capital. In the first article, he wrote that, the anarchists were reading books about insurrection and then target practicing with guns in the streets of NYC almost every Sunday, while everyone else was at church. With this, he compares and contrasts anarchists and workers into differences he presumes – such as “peaceful” vs. “violent”. The naiveté is curious and is more likely the result of a profound dislike of anarchist idea, although in another text he is intrigued by Lucy Parsons.

    Martí states that he believes non-violence and actions within the law were most just. Interestingly enough, soon afterwards Martí picked up a gun to help fight against the Spanish in Cuba. While I’m not exactly certain what changed his mind, it is clear his opinions had changed or he is the ultimate hypocritic. On this note, I think Martí was in line with the demonstrations – but stopped at the point of NYC’s gun slinging anarchists and others around the USA. More so, he was part of the press and the time was ripe for yellow journalism.

    Martí’s first articles on the Chicago anarchists are in step with the North American press and the xenophobia it promoted: anarchist terror is the work of monstrous Eastern European immigrants who have brought the violent ways of the Old World to the New. The notion of “America” as a democratic alternative to barbarous “Europe” stands. After the execution of the anarchists, however, Martí does an about-face and re-writes his earlier account of events. He turns his rage on the political and justice system and softens his earlier critique of the anarchists. The U.S. is now as unjust and violent as despotic Europe.[1]

    It goes on to say that:

    In his initial reactions to Haymarket, Martí had celebrated the heroism of the police and demonized the European anarchists in terms similar to those found in the mainstream U.S. press. In “Un drama terrible,” however, he retells the story of what happened on May fourth in a way that was much more sympathetic to workers and anarchists. He indicts the police, the national media and the justice system for their lies and corruption. If before he had referred to the anarchists as beasts, now it was the Republic as a whole that has become savage like a wolf (795). Martí’s newfound solidarity with the working class, and his sympathetic representation of the anarchists he had previously rejected, results in a powerful identification with the working class, where a new community emerges out of the ruins of the Haymarket Affair.[1]

    José Martí and his on-again, off-again relationship with the anarchists never made it to see the “new community” emerge from the ruins of the old, but then again neither has any revolutionary of the past or present. His writings, full of illusion and splendor, are a somewhat enjoyable introspective into one aspect of the late 19th century revolutionary thinkers. For many, Martí has withstood the test of time and his influence on contemporary thought is evident today in Cuba, but outside as well – even if with different interpretations.

    Other articles by Martí about New York:

    La ciudad, el viaje y el circoLa vida neoyorkinaLos indios de NorteamericaLa diversion norteamericanaEl problema industrial en los Estados UnidosLa escuela en Nueva YorkEl puente de BrooklynThe Dedication of the Statue of Liberty

    Footnotes:

    [1] The Limits of Analogy: José Martí and the Haymarket Martyrs by Christopher Conway – University of Texas—Arlington

    *Author’s note: Originally, some years ago, there was another article about José Martí, Cuba, and the Anarchists; that was, looking back – pretty bad. This version is an attempt to fix that and never look back again.