In the Labyrinth

A Glimpse into Madrid, New Mexico, 1929 to 1945

 

Taos Indians, Madrid New Mexico, July 4, 1930

The mining town Madrid, New Mexico became quite famous in the late twenties and into the forties for its most amazing Christmas Light Shows -- its extraordinary themed dioramas and its "Toyland" -- a Christmas wonderland built by the miners for their children. I have posted earlier about how my grandfather, Pierre Menager, an artist from Santa Fe was invited in the summer of 1940 by Oscar Huber, the mine's owner and superintendent to help with the designing and supervising of the creation of the Christmas Displays and spectacular Light show.

 

Fifth or Sixth Grade Class, Madrid, NM 1929 

Just recently I received a CD from Pinky Werner, granddaughter of Oscar Huber of over 600 scanned family photos and documents covering the life of Madrid (and its famous Christmas Light Show). I have been going through the photos -- astonished at what an amazing little community Madrid must have been in its heyday. I will be putting together over the next couple of months some galleries so anyone interested can share in viewing these incredible photos. And of course, I will do a "Christmas Special" of the Madrid Light Show photographs.

 

Madrid Miners Basball Team, Madrid, NM, 1929 

In the meantime, I wanted to offer a few of the photos now -- just to let you peek at this rich treasure trove of historical documents. (Clicking on each photo should give you a larger version of the image for most of these photos.)

 

Taos Indians, Madrid, NM, Fourth of July 1930 Parade Float 

 

Community Cookout, Madrid, NM, 1945 

 

Musicians playing for the Dances, Madrid, NM, 1945

Desert Doves

So the last ten days have been good for writing, but bad for blogging. I've had my head down on the keyboard or up in the clouds (very bad for driving I might add...must have missed every one of the turns I was supposed to make) working on Except the Queen with Jane Yolen. The whole novel just seems to be gelling in a most interesting way; new characters showing up, new corners to the plot the novella only hinted at but never fleshed out, and new voices -- most not human. So coming up for air, I thought I would post a photo of my desert doves -- and this for Jane who writes dove better than most.

A Personal Moon: Leonid Tishkov and Boris Bendikov

 

Last year, two Russian artists, Leonid Tishkov and Boris Bendikov created an "illuminating" art show by creating large light sculptures of a quarter moon, and suggesting, somewhat tongue in cheek, that these could become one's "personal moons," to bring home and place where ever one needed one.

Of course, the internet being what it is, folks saw the headlines "Personal Moons," and then everybody wanted one! (Including me.) Sadly, they are not available -- but they sure are pretty, and very surreal. Here are more photos , including some of "personal stars" too so your moon won't get lonely.

 

And speaking of owning moons...there is a lovely story I would like to recommend in the JoMA Fiction archives entitled, "The Man Who Owned the Moon," by Celia Bell.

Selkie Print from Forest Rogers

I have long admired this painting of a Selkie by the very wonderful illustrator, painter, and sculptor, Forest Rogers. She has recently made this painting available in a limited number of giclee prints on her Ebay store and they are very affordable. Stop by and have a look. I suspect these beauties won't last long. Forest is planning on offering more of her prints here -- along with her beautiful small scuptures. Check in on her blog to see the latest offerings, (including an awesome illustration of Baba Yaga) as well as new interviews with fellow artists, and tutorials to come.

Arturo Perez-Reverte and The Adventures of Captain Alatriste.

It seems right on Veterans Day to review the swashbuckling and harrowing novels of the 17th century Spanish swordsman, veteran of the Thirty Years War, and sometime royal assassin, Captain Alatriste written by Arturo Pérez-Reverte. Pérez-Reverte deftly combines the heroic tale of a charismatic swordsman, a wry social history of a corrupt Spanish Empire, and a coming of age story for the novel's narrator, Iñgio Balboa, the orphaned son of a fallen soldier now apprentice to Alatriste as a page.

And what a figure Captain Alatriste cuts throughout these novels: tall and slim, wrapped in his cape, with a sword and long dagger at his side, his face shadowed by the broad brim of a felt hat, an aquiline nose, huge mustache, and blazing eyes. "He was not the most honest or pious of men, but he was courageous...It was one of Diego Alatriste's virtues that he could make friends in Hell," Iñgio tells us in the introduction. His title of Captain, more complimentary than official, was bestowed on him by the men who fought at his side one winter in Holland. His legendary skills with the sword have attracted the attention of the king, his scheming advisers, the Inquisition, and an Italian assassin with a score to settle.

Each novel centers on a different facet of Spain's history, offering in broad brush strokes a glimpse into the contradictions of the Glorious Empire. Captain Alatriste introduces us to the world of court intrigues, plots and counter plots, disguised kings, and the ability of a swordsman to make powerful enemies for following his own code of honor. Purity of Blood pits Alatriste and Iñgio against the combined forces of the Inquisition and the royal advisers seeking to acquire the wealth and lands of prominent families.

The Sun Over Breda finds Alatriste and Iñgio returned to the battlefields of Holland, where they survive the brutal seige at Breda and Iñgio comes of age in the bloody fields of Holland. It is the most military of the three novels -- and certainly, the bloodiest. But it also reveals why the Spanish soldiers were the most feared across Europe -- even when they were half starved and abandoned by a King who took them for granted. The King's Gold returns them to Spain, veterans without work. Captain Alatriste is called upon to secretly steal a shipment of gold for the King that is being smuggled into the Spain by corrupt officials to the Crown. Perhaps one of the most interesting scenes of this novel takes place in Seville's prison -- where Alatriste spends a night celebrating the life of an infamous ruffian on the eve of his execution.

The novels also ground their stories in Spain's rich literary and artistic culture -- famous dueling poets of the time such as Don Francisco de Quevedo drink and fight alongside Alatriste, composing poems even as they are fighting. (An appendix at the end of the novels provides us with more poems from these well known authors of the time.) Iñgio is reading Cervantes' Don Quixote as he is marching through the battlefields of Holland and later, he will try to give advice to the court painter Diego Velázquez, whose enormous painting "The Surrender at Breda" depicts more myth than fact.

Iñgio Balboa, the narrator, is a terrific voice in the novels. An old man, he is recounting his youth and apprenticeship with Alatriste, seasoned with witty, sardonic, and poignant observations of the decline of his once powerful nation. When he relates the battles of Breda he does so as a soldier in visceral, vivid language that is at once robust, filled with pride but tinged with melancholy at the enormity of the sacrifice: "And nine years later, in Madrid, standing before Diego Velázquez's panorama, it seemed I could hear again the drum and that I was watching, amid the forts and smoking trenches in the distance, near Breda, the slow advance of the old, implacable squads, the pikes and standards of what was the last and best infantry in the world: despised, cruel, arrogant Spaniards discipline only when under fire, who suffered everything in any assault but would allow no man to raise his voice to them."

And if you really want to have fun after reading these novels, rent the Spanish production of the film, Captain Alatriste (which sort of condenses all four novels into one story) with the perfectly cast Viggo Mortenson performing in Spanish. There is a lot of meddling with the original stories -- starting with all the love interests...but what the hell...it's Viggo. Here's the knockout trailer in English:

Remember...and Offer Thanks

Today is Veterans Day, and I am willing to bet that almost all of us know someone who has served in the military at some time or another for their country. Consider calling them up and simply thanking them for their service. It's something I regret that I didn't do more often for my own father. Since we have recently become a military family, I find myself much more aware of these small acts of recognition and support.

And speaking of support, consider also celebrating Veterans Day by making a donation to two excellent veteran's groups currently providing much needed services for veterans: Fisher House and Wounded Warrior Project, both offer critical support for wounded vets and their families, and ongoing assistance for vets returning to civilian life. These groups have made a huge difference in the lives of veterans and their families. There is also a new program HASMO (Help a serviceman out) established by Tammy Munson of Army Household6  to reach out to other military families via the internet to offer support for specific servicemen and their families in times of crisis. This new organization is a great example of effective grassroots community organizing.

And finally, for those still stationed overseas consider a donation to the historic USO -- which does a lot more than just entertain troops. It provides free phone cards for service men and women to call home, care packages, support for military families in transition, even counseling for a child who has both parents serving.

“We sleep safely in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm.”  George Orwell

Ukiyo-e Animated

Here is a little gem of a website, the Ukiyo-e flash animation site. Ukiyo-e (meaning "pictures of the floating world") is the art of Japanese woodblock prints which became popular in the growing metropolis of Edo (Old Tokyo) between the 17th and 20th century. The art drew its inspiration from all aspects of Japanese life: landscapes, seasons, mythology, the lives of rural and urban workers, the theater and actors, the brothels and famous courtesans. Kuniyoshi and Yoshitoshi are famous for their prints of mythic monsters, heroic samurai, and ghosts. Hiroshige and Hokusai created some of the best known images of 18th century Japanese countryside: luminous views of Mt. Fuji, famous bridges, the crest of an ocean wave, and the mysterious lives of the fox shape-shifters, the kitsuné.

The animator (I think the name is T. Yukawa -- I had trouble finding it on this Japanese site) has taken many popular Ukiyo-e prints of Japanese life, seasons, ghost stories and myths and produced charming flash animated versions. Farmers twirl in a sparrow dance, a drowning ghost drifts up from a well, and elegantly dressed women lean out over a river to catch fireflies. My favorites are Hiroshige's stately procession of a kitsuné wedding (featured above) and his image of burning firelight rising above a gathering of kitsuné in the woods. (For those who don't read Japanese, click number two and number five from the top to find them.)

To view more Ukiyo-e on the web, start with Hans Johansson's round up of excellent Ukiyo-e sites, from which I can recommend this comprehensive site on Hiroshige, The Twenty Four Views of Mount Fuji by Hokusai (a number of which are animated on the Flash site), and this fabulous collection of Kuniyoshi's comic print series, which are hilarious.

The Voice of Flannery O'Connor...Literally

Here's an updated link for an audio file of Flannery O'Connor giving a lecture on "A Good Man is Hard to Find." It's absolutely wonderful (thanks Hank foor giving me the new link!) -- and I am so happy for the chance to hear her voice -- a combination of girlish sweetness with her razored wit, delivered in a rich Southern accent. She is giving her lecture "Some Aspects of the Grotesque in Southern Literature," (the full text of which can be found in Mystery and Manners) and a section from another essay also available in Mystery and Manners, on "A Good Man is Hard to Find." If only they had recorded her reading "A Good Man Is Hard To Find" -- one of my all time favorite stories, along with "Parker's Back," "The Enduring Chill," and "The Lame Shall Enter First." 

Here's a quote from "The Grotesque in Southern Fiction":

"In these grotesque works, we find that the writer has made alive some experience which we are not accustomed to observe every day, or which the ordinary man may never experience in his ordinary life. We find that connections which we would expect in the customary kind of realism have been ignored, that there are strange skips and gaps which anyone trying to describe manners and customs would certainly not have left. Yet the characters have an inner coherence, if not always a coherence to their social framework. Their fictional qualities lean away from the typical social patterns, towards mystery and the unexpected..."

And here's a quote from the essay "On Her Own Work" - which can also be heard on the recording:

"I often ask myself what makes a story work, what makes it hold up as a story, and I have decided that it is probably some action, some gesture of a character that is unlike any other in the story, one which indicates where the real heart of the story lies. This would have to be an action or gesture which was both totally right and totally unexpected; it would have to be one that was both in character and beyond character; it would have to suggest both the world and eternity. The action or gesture I'm talking about would have to be on the anagogical level, that is,the level which has to do with the Divine life and our participation in it...It would be a gesture which somehow made contact with mystery."

And More Gestures...Talking With Your Hands

I have discovered that the Project Gutenberg EBook has reproduced online Garrick Mallery's "Sign Language Among North American Indians Compared With That Among Other Peoples And Deaf-Mutes" presented to the Smithsonian Institute in 1879-80. Mallery used a lot of material of the book by de Jorio that I mentioned earlier (also including de Jorio's drawings and examples from classical antiquity and Neapolitan art) so it's a nice opportunity to have a quick peek online of de Jorio's work. But Mallery's work went further and it's equally interesting to see the wide ranging examples he provides (such as the image above from Dupaix's Monuments of New Spain.)

I confess, I find all of this terrifically interesting -- in part because of the relationship between oral narratives and the rich vocabulary of non verbal gestures in storytelling performances -- and because frankly, I can't talk without my hands. I seem compelled to give physical shape to everything I say, relying on metaphoric, mimetic, and ...yes...the occasional obscene gesture to punctuate everything I say. So maybe, as writers so often like to collect new words, I also love to collect new gestures. It was certainly one of the pleasures of living in Italy -- that even when my Italian was insufficient at times to completely convey my meaning, I could always rely on the appropriate hand gesture to fill in the blanks.

So here's a few you might want to add to your vocabulary: computer-geek gang signs and if you really are that geek, you might want to check out Apple's new Multi-Touch gesture language, which is so bizarre I don't have enough hands to explain it. Here's a lovely study of "Mudras," Buddhist hand gestures with symbolic and metaphysical interpretations, (there are several hundred mudras defined within the Vajrayana pantheon alone). Check out the graceful hand gestures of Khmer dancers in Cambodia, the pragmatic hand gestures for a Bookie, a translation of modern Italian gestures (safe for work) and best for last, you can find fabulous (though slightly creepy) "Hand Gesture Candles" on the always wonderful blog, If It's Hip, It's Here.

The Horn and The Fig, Neapolitian Gestures

Part of the pleasure of doing research for a new novel is discovering little gems of social history, such as this terrific work of the mid 19th century, "Gestural Expression of the Ancients in the light of Neapolitan gesturing" by Andrea de Jorio. De Jorio, a cleric and a Canon of the Cathedral of Naples, was also an accomplished archeologist and curator at the Royal Museum in Naples. In his work as an archeologist, he discerned a close relationship between the gestures of the ordinary Neapolitans and the gestures of figures in ancient frescos and carvings. De Jorio believed that his countrymen had preserved these ancient traditions in their contemporary gestures, and that a studied examination of modern Neapolitan gestures would be useful in offering new layers of  meaning in ancient art.

As I am working on a 16th century picaresque novel that has my protagonist traveling from Tuscany down to Naples, this is just the sort of text I love coming across to salt and pepper the narrative with those little details that can make a story more delectible. (When I start writing about Italianate stories, I immediately revert into food metaphors!)

I am using a recent translation (with an introduction and notes) by Adam Kendon, (Indiana University Press, 2002) that is wonderful, with de Jorio's collection of images and drawings to accompany it. It's also wonderful that de Jorio's style of writing is so lively and robust -- while clearly academic in purpose, he wanted to write a text that was appealing to all kinds of readers. It's charming and witty, full of jokes, and personal anecdotes alongside scientific study. And who knew there could be so many ways to use the horn gesture to express everything from a declaration of infidelity, a method of cursing, a symbol of power, or pride, or moral virtue, and when moved around in the air in certain ways, a way to repel evil charms?