Tierra y Libertad

I know that you were all expecting your bloggist to have over-promised and under-performed (or "to go off half-Hancock" as we now say in the UK), but despite that here is a second post of period-specific book recommendations. Today it's the turn of the Mexican Revolution. There are many excellent academic and/or popular histories of the period available in English (I would particularly recommend Frank McLynn's 'Villa and Zapata'), but I'm going with memoir once again.

John Reed's 'Insurgent Mexico', is a record of the months the American journalist spent with Pancho Villa's División del Norte in 1913. He is of course the same John Reed who witnessed the Russian Revolution and was buried in Red Square.

Also serving, as a doctor, with Villa was Mariano Azuela, the author of 'The Underdogs'. The blurb on the copy I have sums it up rather well: 'a timeless, authentic portrayal of peasant life, revolutionary zeal, and political disillusionment'.

I'm going to extend the original challenge slightly this time to offer a couple of film suggestions as well. The Mexican revolution has been regularly used as a setting by Hollywood, but the two films that I would start with are:

Marlon Brando, Anthony Quinn (who won an Oscar for his performance), screenplay by John Steinbeck; 'Viva Zapata!' is a classic about how the realities of revolutions never live up to the ideals of the great men who lead them.

'And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself' is, on the other hand, about what happens when those who lead revolutions have more ego than they do ideals and, incidentally, a reminder that US interference in other countries at the behest of the oil industry is nothing new. Banderas is good, as is a less obviously cast Jim Broadbent.

I am aware that Sergei Bondarchuk made an adaptation of Reed's book. If ever there was an opportunity to spend time watching a very long Russian film about an American in Mexico then it's now. Sadly, I've not yet been able to track down a copy.

Tooth House

I have been to the Henry Moore Institute to see their latest exhibition 'Ian Kiaer: Tooth House'. I can already hear you asking the obvious question and believe me I have asked it of myself a number of times. Why? I clearly don't like modern art and yet every time they have a new show off I go to stand there aghast thinking 'God this is pants' (honourable exception for Robert Filliou). And indeed this one is. Pants that is. Don't bother.

Much better

The title of the exhibition and of some of its exhibits comes from the work of the surrealist architect Frederick John Kiesler. (For the record, I have no idea whether the title of some of the other exhibits really does come from either the book by Dumas père or the Alain Delon film, but finding a link between 'a frame stretching six metres high, only just capable of holding its own weight' and anything much is a bit of a challenge.) Anyway, I suspect most wargamers have probably never heard of Kiesler, but when you look more closely I would suggest that many of us have certain traits in common with him. One of his colleagues at Columbia University was quoted as saying: "If Kiesler wants to hold two pieces of wood together, he pretends he's never heard of nails or screws. He tests the tensile strengths of various metal alloys, experiments with different methods and shapes, and after six months comes up with a very expensive device that holds two pieces of wood together almost as well as a screw".

 

I couple of weeks ago I had to admit to never having read 'Of Mice and Men'. However, I have read 'Tortilla Flat' (recommended - essentially a reworking of the legends of King Arthur with the knights of the round table becoming a group of indigent Californians). In order to demonstrate that this blog isn't simply just thrown together, the above photo shows Hedy Lamarr starring alongside Spencer Tracy in the film version. The pulchritudinous Ms Lamarr was Kiesler's niece.

A little piece of a great big soul

And so to the theatre. It was the West Yorkshire Playhouse to be specific to see a new production of 'Of Mice and Men'. Had you asked me before yesterday I would have claimed to be a Steinbeck aficionado, but that claim would seem to be based solely on having visited the Steinbeck museum in Salinas (highly recommended - the museum that is, Salinas is a dump) because I certainly hadn't read the novella from which the play was adapted.

In any event the play was excellent - with a slight reservation about the man sized rabbit - and perhaps all the better because I didn't know what happened. For those who like me don't know the story it isn't terribly cheery, but is pretty powerful.

"Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind. Ain't life unkind."