Latin America, the United States—and Syria

For various reasons, I have become interested in Latin American history.

First, I’m interested in history generally.  In college, in addition to standard history requirements, I also studied German and Russian history, and the history of the modern Middle East.

Second, I have a few Facebook friends from Latin America.

Third, the United States seems to have a unique relationship with Latin America.

Fourth, and connected with the third:  I became aware, a decade or more back, that in the United States people are generally not taught about Latin America.

Anyway, I have been poring over histories of Latin America, Brazil, Mexico, and Argentina—and I’m still quite confused, although Mexican history is beginning to jell; meaning that I now have a general sense or outline in my head of how Mexico has developed.  In the case of Brazil and Argentina, there are still large gaps in my understanding.

I feel that perhaps I’ve been wrong to neglect the period of colonial Spanish and Portuguese rule; perhaps the key to understanding everything that has happened since lies there, in the earlier history?

On the whole, at the moment, I feel a bit depressed.  Thinking of Latin American history, I’m aware of great social inequalities, imperfect democracy, and a long-term disregard for human rights.  Thinking of Latin-U.S. relations, I’m much clearer now on why Latin America feels antagonism towards the United States.

Meanwhile, in the wider world, I wonder what is about to happen in Syria.  It starts to occur to me that certain aspects of the Arab World may bear comparison to Latin America—including how the United States relates to both regions.

Much more to study, and learn, and think about!

“Easy Virtue” (2008)

When I first watched “Easy Virtue,” I felt something was slightly “off.”  Since then I’ve watched the film four or five more times, and now I love it.  Someone online offered the opinion that every viewing reveals new layers, and I agree.  This film, based on the Noel Coward play, is a genuine pleasure.  The screenplay is excellent, the social commentary on the mark, and the characters give us people to care about and think about afterwards.  And the cast:  Jessica Biel, Ben Barnes, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Colin Firth—brilliant all around.

I still sense that something is “off”—and I suspect that it involves the adaptation.  Coward’s play was first adapted for the screen by Alfred Hitchcock in 1928, when films were still “silent.”  I’ve read that the 2008 film is “closer to the original.”  I haven’t read the play, but the 2008 version seems to have made some significant changes; and I think that may be what makes it seem a little “off.”

Without spoiling too much (because I recommend you see this film!), I just want to say something about the “tango” scene.

In the course of the film (set around 1929), John has brought an American bride, Larita, home to his British upper class (?) family (unknown to him, the family has slowly been going bankrupt).  “Mom” considers the woman a gold-digger.  The visit becomes a series of social disasters.  John is drifting back to an old flame.  Meanwhile, Larita has discovered a kindred spirit in John’s father.

At a large social dance Larita, thoroughly disgraced, asks John to dance with her.  He refuses.  A friend who has a crush on Larita offers to dance with her; she appreciates the gesture but declines.  Then John’s father offers to dance.

Now imagine this long dance sequence.  In the background we see all the characters:  John, his mother, his sisters, the old flame, the guy with the crush—and the man that “Mom” hopes will save the estate.  Not only is the dance—a tango—terrifically sensual; the reactions of the characters in the background lend additional depth to the scene.

A truly enjoyable film experience—one I sincerely recommend.

                         

Polys: What We Are and Aren’t (or at least how I am)

I wrote the following for this month's South Bay Poly newsletter.

The draft was longer, but I trimmed it down—probably too much.

I feel I keep talking around something as I try to put my finger on exactly what I mean.

I think what I'm trying to say is that, for me, sexuality is about connecting to someone as a person.  For me, being sexual with someone is about wanting to know them better.  Generally that involves wanting to see them again and probably becoming friends with them long-term.  It's not just about having sex—even if the sex is "open and honest."

Here's what I actually wrote.

# # #

What do we mean when we say we’re different from cheaters?  Is that even the right question?

We polys say we’re different from cheaters because we’re open and honest about what we’re doing.  We place great value on this “open and honest” business.  We don’t believe in sneaking around behind people’s backs.  We don’t think it’s “fair.”  This shows we value relationships, value other people.

But for me “open and honest” isn’t enough.  I value sexuality that isn’t “cheap.”  I need to respect myself and my own relationship to sexuality.  I think of sex as something positive, not negative.  But even though sex can be enjoyable in itself, I prefer something more. I prefer something more than just a distraction or fling.  I prefer sex to have some larger value.

If I woke up with a total stranger in my bed, I think I’d feel disappointed that our intimate encounter had turned out to be so meaningless.  For me, polyamory is about more than being open and honest.  It’s about nurturing meaning and value.

Conflictions: Feelings About Manning, Snowden...Ellsberg…Myself

I find myself sad over Edward Snowden getting (temporary) asylum in Russia.  A large part of me wanted him extradited to the U.S. for trial.  It seems ironic he should be living now in Russia—a Russia which has turned increasingly authoritarian and non-democratic under Vladimir Putin; who has sent a member of the band Pussy Riot to prison, along with a leading opposition figure; and is now planning to enforce strict anti-gay legislation; not to mention Russian human rights abuse in Chechnya (I’ll deal with U.S. issues by and by).

Yet many people are happy that Russia has taken Snowden in (for now).  I ask myself where my own feelings come from.  I’ve always been a fairly “liberal” kind of guy, right?  I’m old enough to remember the Pentagon Papers case—the papers leaked by Daniel Ellsberg, published by the New York Times and later by Beacon Press (part of the Unitarian Universalist Association to which I now belong).  I was pleased when The Papers were published…wasn’t I?  In college I attended at least one anti-Vietnam War demonstration and worked on behalf of the election of George McGovern and the impeachment of Richard Nixon.

Perhaps, having since then been involved in running organizations, I understand how messy things get when people don’t “follow the rules”—and so I’ve perhaps become more understanding of organizations—governments included; more understanding than I used to be.  Or maybe I’ve simply become my father!

Yes and no.  I’m certainly not my father, although I do appreciate the resemblances more and more as time goes on; but I have a better relationship with my wife than my father had with my mother.  I do not feel the blind rage that my father felt:  Against Communists, against blacks—and perhaps against my mother.

Still, I grew up in a conflicted, contradictory environment:  During the sixteen years from the age of six to the age of twenty-two, I spent ten years living on U.S. military bases; another two living just outside of one, and another two spending my weekends and summers with my parents on one.  I spent five years living overseas.  Yet we were not a military family; my father merely worked for the American Red Cross in support of the military.

My mother was Lutheran; we attended a generic Protestant church service at military chapels.  These services were designed to exclude anything that might offend any specific Protestant denomination.

My father didn’t discuss religion.  I suspect he was either a Buddhist (perhaps becoming one while in Japan) or a Transcendentalist-sort of Pantheist—not the best means to reconcile him to my mother.

I grew up during the great Civil Rights Era of the late 1950s-early 1960s.  That’s probably how I became a liberal.  I eventually became an agnostic, yet I long held to my Protestant Christian base—and to the idea that America had saved the world in World War II and had been defending and promoting Freedom ever since.

So I’m conflicted about Manning (is it true that he may be transgender?) and Snowden.  But—don’t I care if the U. S. government committed war crimes in Afghanistan and Iraq?  Don’t I care if the NSA has grossly violated the rights of U. S. Citizens?  Don’t I care if the United States has let down its own citizens and much of the world?

Yes.  I do.  But Manning’s and Snowden’s actions still bother me.  And maybe that’s right:  The government actions should bother me; but the actions of Manning and Snowden should too.

Ends, Beginnings, Renewals: Holleran, Picano, Isherwood

Looks like I’m at another transition.  Yesterday I finished the first chapter of Holleran's Nights in Aruba and stopped reading the book for now.  The writing is beautiful but I'm wondering what is the point, where is it going?  Is it going anywhere?

Not much of anywhere in Chapter One.  Right at the end he joins the Army, separating him from his parents.  But this is around page 55.  The first chapter runs 44 pages (preceded by a preface)!  Over-long for me.

Whereas in Onyx by Picano—I stopped on page 75.  We know that the narrator’s long-term partner is dying of AIDS, and the narrator has started an affair with a married man, with the knowledge of the narrator’s partner—but apparently not with the knowledge of the other man's wife.

I think both Holleran and Picano must have been reading Proust -- especially Holleran.  Long sentences, long paragraphs, long chapters.  Onyx contains only three chapters in something like 365 pages!  That's comparable to what Proust did.

Holleran's sentences are beautiful, but they suspend you in a dreamy place somewhere—a lot of thinking and feeling and sensing, with not much happening.

Of course, I should talk—I'm a Wagnerian!

# # #

Meanwhile, inspired by various South American connections, I’ve returned to a travel book by Christopher Isherwood from the late 1940s.

Isherwood says something I find wise in The Condor and the Cows.  Talking about Ecuador, Isherwood mentions that Ludwig Bemelmans had written a book to show how much he loved Ecuador and the Ecuadorians—but the Ecuadorians hated it.  He apparently loved their mischievousness—but they thought he was making fun of them.

When they learned that Isherwood was a “famous writer,” they were afraid he would do the same thing—but he saw the trap.

He realized that it was acceptable to write humorously about the great and powerful, but not about the poor and powerless; speaking that way could rob them of their dignity.  And he was careful to avoid that.

I'll have to remember this, when I finally write about my own travels.  Maybe I should only characterize the people I was traveling with, and be very careful what I say about the places I was passing through.  In any case such stories will be situated quite far in the Past, because my travels happened so long ago -- forty years ago!  How am I going to write about that??  That will take some thought.

What’s Playing This Week (7/26/13)

A catch-up on what I’ve been relaxing with this week—music, film and book.

Onyx, by Felice Picano (2001).  I had difficulty getting into this book so I returned it to the library.  I’d read to about page 75 (out of about 360).  Set in New York in 1992, this book deals with Ray and his long-term partner Jesse, who is dying of AIDS.  Ray begins an affair with a married man, with the knowledge of Jesse.

What finally finished me was some of the descriptions, which I found overdone.  I hate to criticize a writer I respect.  You may enjoy this book, and so may I—at a later time

Nights in Aruba, by Andrew Holleran (1983).  I’ve really just begun this one, and may not finish it either.  I tell my friends that Holleran’s writing is “achingly beautiful.”  But I feel the description of sun-baked Aruba so viscerally, I may have to read this one in small servings.  Actually, it reminds me of my life growing up on American military bases overseas.  The main character is a young boy in Aruba with his parents in the 1950s (his father apparently works for an oil company).

Doble o Nada (1997). An excellent Argentine film based on a whimsy involving the great 1930s tango singer Carlos Gardel.  Originally released as Sus Ojos Se Cerraron y El Mundo Sigue Andando. Also released in English as Tangos Are For Two.  Netflix only had Doble o Nada.  I thought it was great.  But you have to like tango music and singing.  The voice of Gardel (and his look-alike) was provided by the Mexican tenor Rafael Rojas (not to be confused with the model/actor of the same name).

Easy Virtue (2008). Adaptation of a play by Noel Coward (an earlier adaptation was a silent film by Alfred Hitchcock).  I liked this too, though it seemed somehow a little bit “off.”  Jessica Biel as the American wife of Ben Barnes in 1929 England.  Colin Firth as the father.  The ending may surprise…

Blood Simple (1984).  Yes, it takes me awhile to get around to seeing movies!  I thought this was very “atmospheric.”  Otherwise….I kept looking for motivations…and common sense.  The Coen Brothers “homage” to Film Noir.  I did enjoy this film…sorta.  It reminded me a bit of The Big Sleep, with Humphrey Bogart.  That plot was so convoluted that even the original author, Raymond Chandler, denied knowing who killed the chauffeur.