Kushner/Keane/Quatermass&ThePit

Today I finished Rachel Kushner’s 2008 debut novel, Telex From Cuba. Kushner has a lot of loose ends to tie up in this final section of the novel, having developed such a large cast of characters over the course of Telex. She makes this potential problem work in her favor, however, by emphasizing that the climax of the book, namely, the successful conclusion of the revolution, spawned a variety of different outcomes for different characters. de La Mazière, for example, simply walks away from his association with the rebels and returns to Havana in search of Rachel K. Although he succeeds in finding her, she refuses to come back to Paris with him, leaving both of their futures uncertain. We leave Fidel Castro at his moment of victory, and although Kushner represents his voice, arguably this has never been his story or indeed the story of Cubans. To put it another way, the end of the novel focuses on the impact of the revolution on the American community in Cuba, the members of which are scattered geographically, some returning to the US, some moving to Haiti, and some to other countries. In marked contrast to her technique in other parts of the book, Kushner includes passages in the final pages of the novel that are set in the present, with now elderly characters looking back on their childhoods in Cuba with mixed emotions, none of which are regret for their families’ involvement in American colonialism. Let’s just say that there is much material in the closing pages of this novel that would gladden the hearts of gusanos in Miami.

I also finished John Keane’s Reflections on Violence. Keane’s book ends on a variety of sober/somber notes. He uses the concept of ‘uncivil wars’ to reflect his belief that recent conflicts (for example, the Rwandan genocide) seem to be worse than any previous forms of violence, that human cruelty is extending beyond any concept of the ‘rules of war.’ I find this a dubious assertion at best (one can find evidence of the atrocities he mentions in any historical period) and what’s more his argument seems to be undergirded by assumptions about the rising incidence of ‘mindless violence’ that fly in the face of other observations he makes in this book. He’s on firmer ground when he confronts the inevitable but impossible question “what is to be done?” His answers are understandably modest. He evokes the notion of ‘cultures of civility’ and the public sphere as two possible bulwarks against incivility and ends by arguing for the usefulness of shame (rather than guilt) in the face of twentieth-century violence as a precondition for change. As he says, it is not the job of political theory to lobby for particular (legislative) solutions to the problem of violence, but one can’t help but wish that he had done just that!

I also took a trip down memory lane and watched Roy Ward Baker’s 1967 film Quatermass and the Pit. I absolutely LOVE this film! I first watched it when I was a kid and it scared the hell out of me. 40 years later, of course I notice that the plot is gloriously silly (what appears to be an unexploded bomb unearthed in a tube station is in fact a 5 million-year-old Martian spacecraft that has a malign influence on anyone who comes into contact with it) and the special effects are often not that special (the Martians look like something your kids could knock together in a few minutes) but the film is still filled with strong performances, atmosphere, and an eye for local detail that make a peculiarly British version of horror. And it’s still quite scary here and there! Highly recommended for fans of Hammer Horror.