dimanche 23 novembre 2008

What's in a crane ?


Yes I'm shameless when it comes to misquoting Shakespeare and butchering the English tongue!

Less than 100 pages and I'll be done with The Echo Maker.

Here are three pictures I took in the Ngorongoro crater in Tanzania.

The famous crowned cranes, and wildebeests.


















vendredi 21 novembre 2008

what's in a brain ?



A few days ago I watched the last Eastwood's film, Changeling –watchable enough but not his best work, Clint still knows how to shoot but hasn't been really inspired for a while, and he now indulges in many facilities–and, as I was sitting in the theatre it called to my mind the book I've been reading since last week. In Changeling, Christine Collins (Angelina Jolie)'son is kidnapped. The LAPD (already as corrupted as in a James Ellroy's crime novel) needs some good media coverage and decides to show off a solved case by bringing the boy back to his desperate mother, but, as the kid returns home, Christine Collins doesn't recognize him, and insists on saying that the boy who claims to be Walter, isn't her son but a fraud. When she becomes too vocal, and therefore embarrassing, she's thrown into a mental institution. But of course she's right, her cause is just and Hollywood demands that justice must be done.

In Richard Powers' The Echo Maker, Mark, one of the central characters/voices suffers from Capgras syndrome. After a car accident, Mark emerged from a coma, recognizing everybody but his most beloved ones: his sister Karin and his dog Blackie. To his eyes they look like almost perfect doubles of the sister and pet he cherished, and he's convinced that they are impostors. Soon, in order to explain the emotional disconnection he feels, he considers himself to be the victim of a huge conspiracy.

But there's much more in this wonderful book than a mere neurological thriller. There are echoes within echoes, several sorts of disconnection, various degrees of a more general condition, interlocked metaphors.
Without stating it, Richard Powers literally auscultates the post-9/11 America. The cranes' migration is a key metaphor the whole book is based on, or rather a kind of leitmotiv thoughout the story; they come and go, giving the novel its title. Once upon a time some people from an Indian clan called themselves the Cranes, aka the echo makers.

And is it me or does Karin sounds a little bit like crane? Also the phrase "the echo maker" calls to my mind Nietzsche analyzing (or rather attacking)Wagner's music, but that's another story.

I could go on parsing the book, drawing parallels and playing with the echoes that Powers dropped here and there. This book is like a big game for me but it is also an educational and pleasant reading. There's obviously a lot of research behind the story, but it is never tacked onto the rest, it doesn't dehumanize the characters, and it never hampers the poetical prose. Richard Powers is a talented writer, not a pretentious one. He makes you forget about the wires beneath the flesh. Maybe because, unlike Mark, we actually want to be fooled.

Eventually there's one echo that he must not have meant to make–a connection that probably exists in my head only wherein often connections take place– an echo that I enjoy although it confused me at first. The book has been published in France this year, got terrific reviews, and Richard Powers has done some great interviews, but I didn't buy it when I spotted it in my favourite bookshop. So much gets lost in translation, the title to beging with(La Chambre des Echos isn't a bad title but it limits the sense), so I ordered it on Amazon and I read it in English to enjoy the author' s musical style. The first page disconcerted me until I remembered what the word "crane" means (I did see crowned cranes in Tanzania after all and learned many bird names at the time before forgetting them all !). And I find rather amusing that "crâne" is also a French word meaning skull or head. The echo maker indeed.



Weber shut off the shower and closed his eyes. For a few more seconds, warm tributaries continued to stream down his back. Even the intact body was itself a phantom, rigged up by neurons as a ready scaffold. The body was the only home we had, and even it was more a postcard than a place. We did not live in muscles and joints and sinews; we lived in the thought and image and memory of them. No direct sensation, only rumours and unreliable reports.


Okay I may be falling for Richard Powers, a little bit...

PS: I bought a poster-copy of Bosch's painting (a few experts say it might not be one of his works though), The Extraction of the Stone of Madness (The cure of Folly), at El Prado's shop many years ago, and it has been on the wall above my desk since ever. What's in a brain? A question teachers often ask when swimming in Marking Hell.

PPS: The picture of Bosch's painting vanished and I hate seeing that empty spot, so I have to edit this post, 3 weeks later, which is probably going to screw up the chronology on my blog.

mercredi 5 novembre 2008

Is this History or just a good story?

First, I have to say that I'm glad and relieved that Barack Obama of The Bright Smile won...because it means that McCain/Palin ticket, that scary joke, failed. Lesser of the two evils, you know...

Obama was too much conservative and religious to be my cup of tea, even though I acknowledge the fact he sounds intelligent, level-headed, articulate, which is far better than what we've seen in the U.S lately (or than the silly President France elected last year...*sigh*). He does have qualities, so it's a breath of fresh air after 8 years of Bush administration, but, as a left-wing person I don't delude myself.

Obama simply revived a certain Democrat tradition(perhaps more F.D Roosevelt-like than J. F Kennedy-like), was obviously Wall Street candidate, and I doubt there will be much of a change for the poorest. To think that some ultra-conservative Americans considered him a leftie! From our standards in here, he's a centrist (no wonder that he got 95% in France!)leaning to the right. And he will serve American interests first and foremost. So I think that Obama is doomed to disappoint, especially outside of America.

It isn't that I want to rain on everybody's parade and play the cynic – after all the election of President Barack Obama may do some good in his country and abroad, if only by reconciling the world to America or changing some attitudes in our old European political parties–it's just that it's interesting to analyze what just happened.

Actually I am not surprised that he won. His campaign was good while his rival's was not. Obama played the card of the American dream, using all the key elements from the American mythology (the freedom, the frontier and the melting-pot)...which was exactly what America needed at the moment. Bush had become a shame, Obama could be an American pride. He's the spiritual son of an inspiring threesome, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Martin Luther King and Ronald Reagan !

One of my friends, commenting on how Europeans were into the campaign, said that watching the American election was like watching a good tv show. I think that her remark was spot-on.

There're several interesting books explaining very well how American politics is based on the principles of storytelling, and how our politicians in Europe are following the trend (Sarkozy, for instance, learnt it and put it into practice very well. ). Storytelling management is the new smart thing; for a few years it has been an important training in business schools. Stephen Denning, who wrote A Fable of Leadership Through Storytelling (2004) and co-wrote Storytelling in Organizations: Why Storytelling Is Transforming 21st Century Organizations and Management, is one of his gurus.

Actually storytelling is everywhere now, especially on the web, through social networks and blogs...where we are the story. But I'm digressing...

For years advertising executive, spin doctors, and, above all, Hollywood writers have been hired to work in politics, to use the storytelling methods in the political field, not only for campains but also for term of office, in order to conceal problems. Stories slowly took the place of articulate argument.

I believe it really started with Bill Clinton (but let's not forget that Reagan was an actor once upon a time, and came from Hollywood...).

"I grew up in the pre-television age, in a family of uneducated but smart, hard-working, caring storytellers. They taught me that everyone has a story. And that made politics intensely personal to me. It was about giving people better stories."

-President Bill Clinton

The problem with storytelling is that it may backfire (you know like the Irak episode, or lately the story of Joe The Plumber)...unless you have a fresh one to take the citizens' mind off the current issue. Media always need fresh meat, more stories (Chomsky, where are you?). One story must always chase the old one away.

In January 1985, Reagan talked about American heroes in his speech to the Congress, just like Obama in several speeches of his this year. Reagan used Jean Nguyen at the time, and started a pattern. In 1991, Colin Powel was introduced by Bush as « A great American story... »

For a long time, the Bush administration was a pretty efficient storyteller...until reality, finally, imposed itself and screwed its story up.

McCain, the wounded veteran, the Maverick, had a good story to tell but it was...dated, and he made the mistake of Bush-ifying himself during the campaign, the G.O.P not getting that that story was over. Palin also had a good story (there's a rumour that it was Obama's first words when he heard about her being picked, interesting...)but part of the story she told, scared some people out, making them switch over another programme.

Obama definitely offered, and is telling, the best story. He won because he was the best storyteller.

How long before reality screws it up?

samedi 1 novembre 2008

Parce qu'il faut cultiver son jardin

Yesterday I re-watched The Constant Gardener, a film I loved when it was released a few years ago.

Based on a novel by John Le Carré, The Constant Gardener could be described as a political thriller, or as belonging to social realism, but I don't think it is the most interesting side of the movie, and there isn't much suspense at the end of the day. Yes there are murders and there's a conspiracy; corruption is pointed out on the highest levels, the plot shows the collusion between the Foreign Office and multinational firms to the detriment of the most vulnerable populations, how fragile humanitarian action is and how commercial interest overcomes helpless NGOs. The film denounces powerful white men using black countries, people ready to do anything to save millions of $, all sort of compromises with one's conscience. The malpractice of major pharmaceutical companies and neocolonialism are indeed the context of the film if not the framework. Sadly, unless you live under a rock, there's nothing really new under the sun...especially in Africa. If there's a message here, it isn't a new one either. But I think that the movie is much more than a film with a message on capitalism and free-market globalization.

First, there's the undisputable artistic side; you can tell that Fernando Meirelles worked on the form. The cinematography is excellent. There's a nice contrast between the documentary-like style of the movie– the use of hand-held camera sequences and webcam pictures, and the breathtaking beauty of certain African landscapes (especially at the end of the movie, at the Lake). The main protagonists in the story, Ralph Fiennes playing Justin and Rachel Weisz playing his wife Tessa, are beautiful too. She's a social activist, he's a shy diplomat. Thanks to flashbacks we get to see their meeting, and glimpses of their life together. The shaky camera, that follows their journey in Africa, provides a feeling of urgency and plays on the character's paranoia, goes very soft and gentle when we leave the outer world to get into their intimacy, creating a cocoon.

The romance isn't a minor detail, it is what makes of The Constant Gardener, a special film and a beautiful one. I haven't read the book, but it seems that there's always a romantic motive in John Le Carré's stories and it's often what shines in the adaptations on screen. For instance Sean Connery and Michelle Pfeiffer were a great couple in The Russia House (if you wanna see the most beautiful declaration of love on screen, watch that movie!). The Constant Gardener has flaws of course, Africa may be a bit too colourful (while England is grey and cold)and the director indulges with many visuals to cause an impact, but it does tell a moving love story.

To me, the movie first and foremost tells Justin's personal journey and a story about that improbable couple, about how loving someone doesn't mean you can share everything or understand exactly the other's own world. The relationship between Tessa and Justin is really touching. My favourite parts were when he filmed her, as she was in a tub, with the webcam, pretending to be Le Commandant Cousteau, and later when he discovered a file in which there was a clip she had made with the same webcam, featuring him asleep, probably dreaming of ...weeds!

Justin is a man, but his name reminded me of Sade's heroin, Justine.
He's a straight-forward man, a virtuous person, but there are many vicious and nasty people around him and he slowly realizes it. Actually Justin is really a mix of Sade's heroin and Voltaire's Candide. He's naive and quiet, a pure gentle man. Ralph Fiennes is simply excellent. His face is open and conveyes such kindness. Rachel Weisz is also perfect, entrancing(the flashbacks put the viewers in Justin's shoes and make them fall in love with Tessa along with him), vibrant and yet like from another world, fleeting and almost iconic, which makes sense since we discovered her through flashbacks after she's died at the beginning of the film.

In my opinion, Justin's journey isn't a journey towards truth or justice. It's a journey towards his wife–so the ending does make sense– and a journey towards the "real" world and far from innocence and stock thoughts. It is a new version of Candide by Voltaire. Between optimism and pessimism, Justin didn't really "choose" (even though he couldn't help even one kid when he wanted to, because of the U.N's rules, which is kinda depressing), or rather he chose loving which might be the more down-to-earth option eventually. But choosing love doesn't necessary lead to a happy ending, and Justin is running towards self-destruction. Nothing melodramatic here, but a bit of tragedy since our heroes are crushed by the forces of modern gods.

At the beginning of the film, Justin Quayle is forced to leave his protective shell, his beloved garden– où tout allait pour le mieux dans le meilleur des mondes, to face the ugliness, the lies, the betrayals, the misery, the blood...and all the small acts of cowardice which includes his own suspicions about his wife's infidelity and the fact she might have only used him. While investigating her death, he revisits moments of their life together, puzzling out both mysteries.

Being a diplomat he could have been a Pangloss (the character is a sort of sophist, known for his logorrhea in Voltaire's tale), but he's truly Candide and, little by little, he frees himself from Pellegrin/Pangloss' influence. By the way, in one of the first flashbacks we can see Justin, delivering a dull speech, in lieu of sir Bernard Pellegrin, voicing the philosophy of the Foreign Office...then the man of words slowly becomes a man of actions during the movie.

But maybe he always was, as a constant gardener. Tending a garden might be the contrary of a contemplative life. There might have been only a change of scale in his action. He left his safe garden and went on a journey to act in a largest one: the world.

And he did it because of his Cunéguonde, Tessa, and because "Il faut cultiver notre jardin !"

Cette petite phrase a suscité bien des lectures et des interprétations, parfois contradictoires. Que signifie donc la métaphore choisie par Voltaire? Est-ce vraiment une ultime recommendation du philosophe à la fin du conte, ou une simple pirouette qui permet à Candide de clouer le bec à son vieux sophiste de maître? Peut-être un peu des deux...

S'agit-il d'un jardin secret qu'il faudrait préserver pour durer? C'est la solution que Justin et Tessa semblent avoir choisi au début de leur mariage. Il cultive ses plantes, s'occupe de ses pousses, tandis qu'elle mène son action de passionaria dans les quartiers déshérités de Nairobi et dans les villages kényans. Se battre pour les autres est ce qui définit Tessa, et c'est un jardin auquel Justin n' a pas vraiment accès comme il le comprend trop tard. Il va l'entrevoir à travers des bribes offertes par d'autres personnes, ou les fichiers laissés dans un ordinateur. Tessa de son côté veut préserver le jardin de son mari, sa pureté, son innocence– "she thought you didn't need to know", dit un personnage dans le film.

"Il faut cultiver notre jardin !"
Certains y ont vu une morale du travail et de l'action. Cultiver son jardin, accomplir un travail manuel protégerait des vices et éloignerait l'ennui. On est pas loin de l'opus dei monastique ici. C'est aussi avoir les mains dans la terre (à défaut d'avoir les pieds dessus!) et donc ne pas oublier l'essentiel, c'est à dire le concret. C'est surtout pour Candide se retirer loin des philosophies, ne croire ni en l'optimisme de Pangloss ni au pessimisme absolu. C'est ne pas attendre du monde ni le bonheur ni le malheur, mais fabriquer son monde de ses propres mains.
Justin a l'air d'un doux rêveur au sécateur alors que Tessa la révolutionnaire paraît affronter la réalité, la prendre à bras le corps, tous deux cultivent leur jardin mais qui des deux est le plus réaliste enfin de compte?

"Il faut cultiver notre jardin !"
C'est donc faire pousser des choses et faire en sorte que la vie germe toujours, sans cesse (Justin a une jolie et triste réplique à propos des tombes couvertes de ciment pour empêcher les pillages, ils s'insurge contre la pratique car rien ne peut pousser dans le ciment). "Notre jardin" serait le jardin commun à l'humanité. A commencer par l'Afrique, berceau de l'humanité, grevée de maux et couvertes d'immondices comme le rappelle très justement le film. Je me demande ce que Voltaire aurait pensé de la notion de "développement durable"!

D'autres ont lu dans "il faut cultiver notre jardin" une invitation à s'occuper de ses propres affaires avant tout. Cultivons notre jardin et ne regardons pas trop de l'autre côté du mur...ou dans ce cas précis de l'autre côté de la Méditerranée. C'est un peu l'attitude de Justin au début du film, en particulier lorsqu'il renonce à secourir une famille parmi des milliers et dit avoir Tessa pour priorité.
C'est également décider d'agir uniquement sur ce qu'on peut maîtriser, être raisonnable et se contenter de son petit bout de terre sans rêver d'Eldorado. Son jardin passe encore, mais s'attaquer au champs mondial, quelle folie, quelle hybris! Ce serait en fin de compte un conseil pour vivre heureux. Un conseil que Tessa, elle, ne suit pas.

Ainsi Justin a changé au cours de son odyssée, moins passif, il prend de plus en plus de risque au fil du temps, sort de sa réserve, et avant la fin du film, l'idée de ne pas aider un seul enfant lui est devenue insupportable.
Pourtant au bout du compte (et du conte), Justin paraît renoncer à l'action, ou plus exactement il passe la main à d'autres, ne se faisant plus d'illusion sur son sort personnel. Il est résigné mais non sans espoir. Son jardin se révèle finallement romantique et mystique, c'est un Eden perdu ("home") qu'il tente de retrouver, au bord d'un lac.