Kushner/Keane/Laurel&Hardy

Today I read the next fifty pages of Rachel Kushner’s 2008 debut novel, Telex From Cuba. The worlds of the American expatriates and that of the Cuban rebels come closer together in this section of the novel in several different ways. For example, executives from United Fruit and the nickel mine are kidnapped by the rebels and taken to live in the mountains for several weeks, mostly as a publicity stunt, but also to show them who the rebels are and why they are fighting. What’s more surprising is that de La Mazière, in the process of seeking to escape from the Cuban government (which wants to arrest or simply kill him) goes over to the rebel side and then appears to be converted to their cause, not so much out of ideological conviction, but more from an enthusiasm at being involved once again in a revolutionary situation. Kushner may seem to be implying some kind of equivalence between the Waffen SS and the Cuban rebels through this plot twist, but one doesn’t get that impression, mostly because the rebels refuse to be ‘disciplined’ in the way that Mazière desires. The most bizarre incident in this section of the novel is easily what appears to be an erotic tryst between Mazière and Castro! I really have no idea what to make of this incident.

I also read the next fifty pages of John Keane’s Reflections on Violence. Keane covers a lot of ground in this section of the book. He efficiently disposes of the arguments that glorify violence (predictably, Georges Sorel figures prominently here) while also discussing why more anti-party political movements have not been attracted to violence. More unexpected is Keane’s opposition to pacifism, which he criticizes not only for its dogmatism, but also for the way it can potentially enable acts of violence. Keane then goes on to argue for a context-sensitive understanding of whether or not violence can ever be justified or necessary, pointing out that individuals living in violent environments develop such understandings as a matter of course. Keane also rejects an understanding of violence as intrinsic to human nature, arguing instead for the influence of institutional context, as befits his constant emphasis through this wide-ranging inquiry on the precise lineaments of the relation between civil society and violence.

I also watched two Laurel and Hardy shorts: Towed in a Hole (1932) and Busy Bodies (1933). By this stage of their careers, Laurel and Hardy had perfected their craft and their formula, and both of these films are little gems of physical comedy, but there were a couple of features in particular that stood out to me. The first was the expressiveness of Oliver Hardy’s eyes as he looks into the camera in exasperation or disbelief or resignation, thereby inviting the audience into the experience of dealing with Stan. Those looks play such a crucial role in the success of these films. The second point has to do with the fact that these films are released at the depths of the Great Depression. In their repeated failed efforts to get ahead, to make a buck, Laurel and Hardy both normalize failure and (scandalously) make it something to laugh about. Moreover, over the course of many such films, they come to personify indomitability, never giving up even though we all know that only more failure awaits them. Perhaps these factors explain the love Americans felt for these characters at the time.