Showing posts with label left-wing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label left-wing. Show all posts

Saturday, 26 April 2025

"Guy Debord" by Andy Merrifield


 A surprisingly readable biography of political thinker and activist, writer and film-maker, Guy Debord who was influential in the 1968 Paris riots. 

I became interested in Debord when reading M John Harrison's The Sunken Land Begins to Rise Again which is influenced by the idea of the dérive which this book defines as "drift" and originated as "a dreamy trek through varied Parisian passageways, forever on foot, wandering for hours, usually at night, identifying subtle moods and nuances of neighborhoods.” (Ch 2) Then I was impelled to read this biography after encountering Guy Debord in Rachel Kushner's Creation Lake: I think she bases her character of Bruno Lacombe on Debord. 

I was expecting the biography to be rather dry and not a little hard to understand. How wrong I was. Despite a penchant for lists, Merrifield is a fluent writer so his prose is easy to read, he never delves to deeply into the philosophy and what he does explain is reasonably comprehensible. Add in the fact that Debord had an interesting life, and that the fringe politics of the era was filled with swashbuckling (if brutal) factions such as the Red Brigades and the Baader-Meinhof Faction,  and that there is an actual real-life murder mystery in chapter four, and this academic text became a page turner. 

The young Debord was a student at the Sorbonne in the early 1950s but this seems more a rationale for living in Paris, drinking heavily, frequenting the cafes, talking philosophy and becoming involved with Leftist students. He never finished his degree. Instead, he became a leading member of the Lettrists before breaking away to found the Situationist International (which at its founding included a leading member of the London Psychogeographical Association). The Situationists used the technique of détournement to satirise the establishment. 

He began making films and writing books. Presumably somebody sponsored him because he never seems to have had any conventional employment: “Nobody knew how Debord got by. He had no job, didn't want a job, opting instead to reside in a rich and happy poverty.” (Ch 2). He came to prominence with "The Society of the Spectacle" which became a suces d'estime on its publication in 1967 and is thought to have been the catalyst for the 1968 student riots in Paris, in which Debord participated although he was nearly twice the age of many of the other leaders. 

By now he was a celebrity of the left-wing and he continued writing (and making films) while living mostly abroad. Later he returned to France spending summers in rural seclusion and winters in Paris. He died by suicide after suffering from alcohol-induced peripheral neuritis.

He was a fan of the proto-surrealist poems of Lautreamont and a friend of Alexander Trocchi who wrote Cain's Book and invited him to New York where he lived in a barge on the Hudson river. He identified with the romantic bad boy characters from French literature and history, such as the mediaeval poet Francois Villon, the novelists Louis-Ferdinand Celine (author of Journey to the End of Night) and Pierre Mac Orlan and Cardinal Gondi, the 17th century cardinal whose street protests against Louis XIV led to the rebellion called the Fronde. Cardinal Gondi was a colourful character. “The cardinal was an odd mix of Catholic holy man - who never actually believed - and libertine. He was a priest and a duellist,  a courtier and a conspirator. He womanized while he spread the gospel ... he simultaneously incited mob violence and earnestly preached peace. He was duplicitous and conniving, both worshipped and reviled, as he indulged in a life of intrigue and bewildering adventure.” (Ch 3) Debord liked to be called Gondi.

Has he a legacy? Merrifield clearly thinks that capitalism has triumphed since Debord's time and that this make Debord's critique even more important: “History has never seemed so open, so unstable ... wars and terrorism, financial meltdown, ethnic cleansing, religious conflicts, class exploitations, epidemic diseases, irresponsible American imperial might. More than 1 billion people now scramble to make ends meet on less than a dollar a day. Meanwhile, the net worth of the world's 358 richest individuals equals the combined income of the world's poorest 45 per cent - some 2.3 billion people.” (Ch 6)

Selected quotes:

  • “As they shifted in and out of public spaces, they were intent on accumulating rich qualitative data, grist to their ‘psychogeographical’ mill, documenting odors and tonalities of the cityscape, its unconscious rhythms and conscious melodies: ruined facades, foggy vistas of narrow, sepia-soaked streets, nettle-ridden paving stones, empty alleyways at 3am, menace and mayhem, separation and continuity.” (Ch 1)
  • “If the Sacre-Coeur trampled over the legacy of the Communards, Pompidou [centre built in 1969] did likewise over the soixante-huitards.” (Ch 2)
  • "The unitary city would be disruptive and playful ... it would emphasize forgotten and beleaguered nooks and crannies, mysterious corners, quiet squares, teaming neighborhoods, pavements brimming with strollers and old timers with berets sitting on park benches.” (Ch 2)
  • “Humans are protean beings, desiring differentiated practice, needing meaningful and fulfilling activity.” (Ch 2)
  • “Society has always rewarded mediocrity, always rewarded those who kowtow to its unfortunate laws.” (Ch 2)
  • “In leisure time, workers became consumers ... private life became the domain of the advertisement ... of movie and pop stars and glamorous soap operas, of dreaming for what you already know is available, at a cost.” (Ch 3)
  • “Mass consumption and commodities fill the frame and pollute the mind ... The diffuse spectacle thrives off the gadget, the gimmick, the fad. ... in accumulation for accumulation’s sake.” (Ch 3)
  • “Dramatic weather patterns aren't too dissimilar to storms that break out across the economic and political landscape. Each, after all, takes place when the temperature is hottest, when the pressure dial approaches danger level. Often nobody pays attention to the inclement forecast. In such heat, wealth accumulates, business booms and stock prices grow, until, suddenly, the bubble bursts and the heavens open.” (Ch 4)
  • “Truth ... becomes like storytelling; each tale is difficult to adjudicate, because everything has relative plausibility.” (Ch 5)

In the Cafe of Lost Youth, a novel by Patrick Modiano, takes its title from a line in Debord's masterpiece film ‘In Girum Imus Nocte et Consumimur Igni’ (We Wander in the Night and Are Consumed by Fire)April 2025; 153 pages

A beautifully readable book about a surprisingly romantic philosophe.

Published in 2005 as part of their series of Critical Lives by Reaktion Books.



This review was written by

the author of Bally and Bro, Motherdarling 

and The Kids of God

Thursday, 10 October 2024

"The Journey of Simon McKeever" by Albert Maltz


A celebration of the resilience of an ordinary man.

Set in 1947, in the USA. Simon McKeever has worked hard all his life but now, aged 73, he is crippled by arthritis and unable to work and his pension is handed over to the proprietor of his Care Home. A chance encounter makes him believe that his arthritis can be cured by a doctor in LA. So, penniless, he decides to hitch-hike there.

It is a modern version of a pilgrimage to a religious site with a cure-all saint. In some ways it is a secular Pilgrim's Progress. The hero must overcome challenges and obstacles. Some of the people he meets on the journey will help him, some will cause him problems. He will be daunted. Perhaps his journey is no more than a fool's errand. But in the end, this book is a celebration of indomitability and the fact that most people are prepared to help their neighbour. 

On the journey, as you would expect in a story of this kind, McKeever remembers his past. He is an Everyman figure for that American generation, remembering the hardships of the depression, the fight for the working man to get fair treatment, the joys of a beer, and a dance, and a woman. There are sadnesses: how else did he end up alone and impoverished? But, in the end, he reminds himself of the pipelines and bridges he has built "to move the world one inch forward". (Ch 18)

It is written in a straightforward style. It's an utterly simple plot. The characters and the settings feel as real as the seat I'm sitting on. There is no great drama but that's the point: this is the story of little people. It gains its power and its beauty from that.

Albert Maltz was a novelist and screenwriter. His novel about the Germna resistance, The Cross and the Arrow, was distributed to US soldiers fighting in the Second World War, like The Great Gatsby. He worked on Hollywood screenplays until he was blacklisted (with Donald Trumbo) for refusing to testify before the Committee for Un-American Activities; he was sentenced to a $1,000 fine and a year in jail.

In this novel, Maltz praises the work of other left-wing writers such as Upton Sinclair who wrote The Jungle about the horrors faced by the working man in the Chicago Meat-Packing Industry. 

Structurally, it reminded me of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce but Simon McKeever is so much more down to earth.

Selected quotes:
  • “They were granted tobacco at the Home - a weekly ration of horse manure or mattress sweepings or whatever else the poetry of old men's bitterness might choose to call it.” (Ch 1)
  • “Most people are half scared - did you ever think of that? Scared of what other people will say, scared of their boss, scared of their own hearts even.” (Ch 1)
  • “As for himself, he knew beyond argument that each stage of life brought its own adventure when a man wasn't dead in his heart. There was a profound satisfaction in observing life in a sixty- or a seventy-year-old way; it was quite different from any other way, or so he had found.” (Ch 3)
  • “There was only one thing important to a man: the road he had decided to travel. Any problems that arose were no more than hills to climb.” (Ch 3)
  • “All tasks worried him dreadfully until they were completed.” (Ch 3)
  • “From thirteen on I wiggled my rump like a dog with fleas.” (Ch 3)
  • “Ain't you had the lesson yet that your worst enemy is the man who's done you a bad turn?” (Ch 5)
  • “For an old man every year is the time of the locust.” (Ch 9)
  • “He yearned and needed to believe that there was meaning to his life, and that there was a joy in being a Man - even a common, anonymous man - and that Men together were more than beasts in the field.” (Ch 13)
  • “Some get tired and some lose their way. Some are ground down by others and some get turned mad. But the Earth still turns, and only a man has the power to dream. Up from the apes by his own doing, and that's the bright glory of it.” (Ch 14)
  • “A life without happiness wouldn't be a good life at all, would it? but I guess a life without disappointment wouldn't be real.” (Ch 17)
October 2024; 234 pages


This review was written by

the author of Bally and Bro, Motherdarling 

and The Kids of God

Thursday, 6 January 2022

"The Good Terrorist" by Doris Lessing

 It's 1985ish. Alice and her friend Jasper join a squat; it's an old house with no plumbing facilities (so there are buckets full of shit on the top floor), no water, no gas or electricity. The squat is run by fellow comrades in a communist group who want to affiliate to the IRA. 

Alice, despite her rabid denunciations of her fascist parents (on whom she sponges, from whom she steals), is, at heart, a nest-maker and one-by-one she solves the problems of the house, taking on the council and the police and burying the shit in a pit in the garden. Some of her comrades help her, others take advantage. Meanwhile she has a complicated non-sexual relationship with her boyfriend (who takes money from her so he can go cruising). Gradually the story evolves from a manual on how to run a squat into a novel chronicling the manoeuvres of splintered extreme left wing groups and how they are used by foreign governments. The climax of the book is the planning of an act of terrorism.

It is a brilliant read. It evokes the political atmosphere of the 1980s when there were (usually IRA-inspired) acts of terrorism on Britain's streets and when the Soviet Union still existed so that it was possible to believe in the leftist rhetoric of proletarian revolution and fascist reaction. But most of all, the characters in the squat are so well-drawn in all their complexities: the hysterical Faye and her lesbian partner Roberta (who is fundamentally Faye's keeper), the physically and psychologically fragile Philip, Jim who is always so happy except when he is utterly depressed, and, of course, Alice, whose complex relationship with her parents provides a compelling backdrop to her fundamental innocence.

But it is also a portrait of inadequacy and hopelessness.

It is written as a more-or-less continuous narrative, unchaptered (but it is paced perfectly, with the major turning-point almost exactly half way through), in the third person but almost entirely from Alice's point of view (though she is very good at reading the verbal cues and body language of others and inferring motives).

Selected quotes:

  • "Against - stupidity - the gods - themselves - contend - in vain." (p 58) This is a quote from The Maid of Orleans Act III, Scene 6, written in 1801 by Frederick Schiller who also wrote Don Carlos.
  • "Communes. Squats. If you don't take care that's what they become - people sitting around discussing their shitty childhoods. ... Or is that what you want? A sort of permanent encounter group. Everything turns into that, if you let it." (p 130)
  • "It was a thin papery kiss, but she understood that; understood when - rarely - she simply had to put her arms around him in an exuberance of love, the instinctive shrinking, as though she held a wraith, something cold and wailing, a lost child." (p 158)
  • "He was white with his hatred. His thin pink lips, which normally she loved for their delicacy and sensitivity, were stretched in a colourless line, and between them showed sharp discoloured teeth. He looked like a rat." (p 160)
  • "Affectionate impulses kept attacking her arms; they yearned to embrace him." (p 251)
  • "All you people, marching up and down and waving banners and singing pathetic little songs ...  To the people who really run this world, you are a joke. They watch you at it and think: Good, that's keeping them busy." (p 360)
January 2022; 397 pages

This book was nominated for the Booker Prize in 1985

Also by Doris Lessing and reviewed in this blog:


This review was written by

the author of Motherdarling 

and The Kids of God

Lessing won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2007. Books by Nobel Laureates reviewed in this blog:

Abdulrazak Gumah (2021)
Afterlives
Kazuo Ishiguro (2017)
Patrick Modiano (2014)
Alice Munro (2013)
The View from Castle Rock
Herta Muller (2009)
The Passport
Doris Lessing (2007)
The Golden Notebook
Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1992)
Chronicle of a Death Foretold
Saul Bellow (1976)
The Victim
Heinrich Boll (1972)
The Train was on Time
Samuel Beckett (1969)
John Steinbeck (1962)
Albert Camus (1957)
William Faulkner (1949)
Andre Gide (1947)
Hermann Hesse (1946)
Thomas Mann (1929)
Death in Venice