Don’t Let People Pronounce Your Name Wrong - Don’t Let Them See You Walking Home. Don’t Let Them
Don’t let people pronounce your name wrong - don’t let them see you walking home. Don’t let them see your mother in the playground, smelling of spices. Bite your lip when you see a white woman in the street wearing a shalwar kameez. ‘I’m on the way to a wedding,’ she drawls. ‘A friend got me this s-…this thing. Isn’t it pretty?’ I don’t know, lady. Tell me, how much do you care about the merchants who jumped to their feet and dove through reams of fabric to find the right one? Are you trying to tell me that I shouldn’t be angry that you’re wearing a garment I can’t wear without eye rolls and insults and, ‘fucking Paki. Go back to India, go back to where you came from.’ I was born here, and I’ve earned my place here. More so than you. I’ve had to work for it. I’ve had to know my shit countless times, be able to list off members of the government on both hands, talk this way, eat this way - my parents stopped sending me to school with rice so early because the other kids couldn’t fathom lunches that weren’t sandwiches. Can you even pronounce ‘shalwar kameez’? Let me hear it, I’m not convinced. I don’t know, my teacher had to ask me how to say my name three times this morning - and each time I said it she would repeat it slowly, squinting, as though it were made from a different alphabet. So I guess you could say I’m a sceptic. Wait. Is that a bindi on your forehead? Where’s your temple? More importantly, where were you yesterday when my Religious Education teacher was telling me how the whites helped educate the poor little Indians and that 1947 was a bad year for ‘us’? My country’s independence was the Empire’s downfall, and the Empire gave us nothing but pain. My grandparents were driven off the border of Pakistan and forced into poverty, and here was a person trying to tell me that the colonies that terrorised my family away, away from their homes and their cities and their loves, did a good thing. Where were you then? I see the henna on your hands, and I am here to say that my culture is not a trend for you to love this season and throw away - my heritage is not your excuse to be ‘exotic’. You are not welcome to pick and choose the attractive parts of being me. Take my mother’s bindi spot, take the unwanted advances of old white men that come along with it - they think we should be honoured to be hit upon by a white man. Take the henna off my hands, and take the sweat and blood of Indian workers trying to make an honest day’s work charging fifty rupees in the street to ice patterns on flesh. Take my sari, take my shalwar, take my lengha and take the low self esteem that growing up in a white society has given me. Take it, take it all.
it might be in this month’s ‘vogue’, but that doesn’t make it yours | ishani jasmin (via ishanijasmin)
I think it's very important to talk about this.
In today's world even the weak, the poor and the disenfranchised are empowered to speak and that's undoubtedly a huge step forward on the arc of history. Inequalities, in relation to representing ourselves, are being diminished. I mean it in the sense that the internet and the social media have given us platforms, where you can upload your content, even if you have far-from-professional equipment and an amazing number of people have access to it. On the internet people choose for themselves what kind of content they view or read or listen to, ergo people's inclination and taste are the major factors contributing to getting heard and not the wealth of content-creators.
After this rather lengthy introduction, let's get to the point.
As the poet's mastery cannot be argued, her point may be the more so.
Even the first issues mentioned are quite strange. How can an English speaker be expected to pronounce Indian words right? And this is a returning motif. I don't want to waste many words on this question but just say, the poet goes to Denmark and she can pronounce all the names properly? Is the source of this complaint that she can pronounce the English names perfectly and it's different the other way around? Is the part:"as though it were made from a different alphabet" suggesting that the Indian people speak identical to Americans? This whole issue may lead to something more profound and more light may be shed on the source of her frustration as I progress with my arguments.
I would also like to note that the poet is offended by white people wearing Indian traditional garments, without understanding that culture or caring much for it. I find this a very complicated issue and this might be discussed later, too.
The whole poem is filled with anti-imperialist, anti-white feelings and the words are very suggestive. They suggest intolerance, racism, cultural disrespect and such things, which surely originate from experience and a certain kind of environment.
If the poet's environment majorly consists of people, who behave uneccaptably, maybe it's really about time for her to move. I know it sounds bad to ask a victim to change, rather than changing the villains or moving them but in this case it's simply the better solution--of course I only mean this in a theoretical sense, not literally. I said what's above because America does not majorly consist of people acting and speaking filled with racism and/or intolerance. It may be said that certain studies--very reliable ones--show that most Americans have racist attitudes but--just as reliable--studies also show that despite those suggested attitudes, most Americans act and/or speak tolerantly and in antiracist ways. So if it is true that the poet mostly meets racism, intolerance, then she just so happens to live in an improbable place, but she could move almost anywhere and would be treated differently. But if she doesn't live in this very unfortunate coincidence, then it may be that she's the victim of a hurtful minority. However, if that's the case, and she's writing a poem about this smaller group of people, I have to say that it's not a tendency, much rather the ugly side of human nature, very similar to that part of it, which is called criminality; and it's not all right to commit a crime, as it is not all right to be racist or intolerant but it cannot be eradicated completely--quite sadly--but it will remain with humanity forever.
The poet suggests that white people don't have adequate knowledge of her culture, yet they exploit it. If a person is not a part of a given culture, he/she cannot choose to cherry-pick some of the attractive parts of given culture--argues she. It might be based on:
#1: the idea that people, who belong to her culture, have a certain narrative identity, which will also manifest in their culture. This identity brings a lot of pain and a lot of joy but for someone to ignore the pain and embrace the joy only, would leave the rest of the people with a very bad taste: that they have to live with the pain as well and it is an unfair thing for someone to experience their joy without having to experience their sorrow. This suggestion, however, is ignorant toward the fact that people from other cultures have their own pains, ones that may be entirely dissimilar but nonetheless serious.
#2: the idea that selecting attractive parts of their culture will spread an idealized, romanticized version of given culture, thus making the people ignorant toward the things they've suffered. For this to be true, it would also have to be true that these certain manifestations spread in a way that will affect how people look at Indian culture. It is possible that it forms people's views and they will, in fact, have certain stereotypes, romantic ideas about this culture but what must also be observed is that fashion does not take something else's place. Newspapers aren't afflicted by fashion clichés--they might be afflicted by other clichés but that's not the question. So if someone has an image, solely based on fashion's impact, then that person would have no idea at all without the Indian garments. The real question is: is it more detrimental to think about India as the place where there are beautiful clothes, than not thinking anything about India at all. As far as I can tell, they aren't very different in effect, since none of them will make anyone have hostile attitudes toward India and none of them will make anyone more friendly toward her.
#3: the idea that selecting the attractive parts of their culture will make the people subject to stereotypes. It is, of course, terrible to be looked at as already completely known, just because belonging to this or that culture. We demand to be seen in our full complexity and uniqueness and that seems to be our right to do so. What is not observed here is that people can't view others in their complexity, only a few of them, at maximum. So if a certain culture's stereotype will contribute to another stereotype that others are forming about you, it's not unwise to keep in mind that no one really is perceived as they are by the vast majoriy of people they meet. I know it's an important issue today to fight prejudice in the world but prejudice cannot be undone, and it is basically a mistake to oppose it; it originates from identifying prejudice with racism, which might be defined as a certain kind of prejudice but then, prejudice is just a certain kind of attitude, which we all have toward all sorts of things and there's nothing we have against that.
I'd like to mention how the poet discusses India's relation to the West. There's a nod to the general notion of America exploiting their cheap labor and the evil Empire that once ruled half the world.
#1: The US could have a better way of dealing with cheap labor, that's true, of course, however, she can't be blamed for the poverty in India. There's been economic struggle for a long time and its roots go back to social strife, which did not ease with the hardships of pathfinding in he second half of the 20th century, though it's been there even before that. And the way world economy has moved forward was rather hard for India to figure out and a lot of poor decisions have been made, which of course, don't mean that India would be responsible for all of the bad things happening there but it's still mandatory to consider that before looking at richer countries with contempt. And what's also important to see is that India's improving rapidly now and she's been on the curve going up for a little while now, so there's no need to look at her as a mud-hole of poverty, since her fate is not written in stone. And last but not least, not all Indians are browsing among fabrics. Truth be told, the poet isn't doing much for those merchants, either, just by thinking about them or being their comrade. Economic growth, unbuyest bureaucracy and clean politics could be of tremendous help to them and I hope we're going that way--at least as far as I can choose to do my work in favor of that.
#2: The British Empire was, before everything else, seeking her own interests in the world. It's understandable on one side and it means having India on the second place, at most, on the list of priorities, on the other side, which isn't ideal for India. Well, this is how it's easy to think about it but it isn't how it is. India's relationship with the Empire was very complicated with a large amount of both ups and downs on their way together, so it's always very hard to say it was good or bad for India. It was complicated. The poet referred to 1947, which was the year, when India became independent and also when she broke up into India and Pakistan. I don't know whether the poet's family was on India's or on Pakistan's side at the time of this affair but to blame the British for the bad things that happened then is completely nonsensical. When the Indo-Pakistani War, mainly over Kashmir, happened, and when immense crowds of people had to leave their homes because of things out of their power and interest, it was Lord Mountbatten, who had to go back with his forces, to a country, that had already gained its independence, only to try to moderate this humanitarian catastrophe. Even Nehru, the current leader of India at the time, saw it better to have the British forces there, which doesn't mean that their presence was absolutely good or absolutely bad, just that they aren't the disruptors of India.
The poet supposes, but never explicitly mentions, that there's white supremacy in he world, causing pain and turmoil all over the globe. It can be seen in her personal experience, in her narrative identity and from these we can have a general idea about the phenomena. But let me ask: is the poet right in her arguments? If we look at the people who liked her post, can't we see quite a few white people there? When people hurt her, oppress her, say racist things, does it happen because they're white? Are all white people like that?
It is plain to see that not all white people are disrespectful. I value the poet's poetry but I also value her culture, even so, I've chosen to learn about it, so that I could understand it more fully and not live in the world of dumb stereotypes. I respect the poet and I'm white and I know I'm not alone.
Just a sidenote: It would be out of this world to talk about the collectivity of white people, as we could discuss Hungary's* complicated relationship with the US. Hungary's not a rich country, the major difference between her and India would be that western people think India's more exotic but they'd probably consider them both quite alien.
This piece of poetry is full of thoughts and I know I've eventually failed to grasp them all and respond to them all. I don't mean to hurt the poet or say this verse is bad, as it is not. What I'm trying to do is to bring us closer to each other--I want us to see that we're not really that far away anyway.
*Hungarian people are also mainly white people.
More Posts from Bernatk and Others
Sweeney Todd: The Importance of Morals and the Wrongfulness of Socialism
Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd (2007) has been famous for its explicitly violent themes, which are doubtlessly quite spectacular and shocking. The basic story seems like a tragic journey of vengeance and death but, as a matter of fact, it isn't a more dramatic Count of Monte Cristo, but it's a unique and interesting piece of art of a different nature.
In the beginning of the story Benjamin Barker a.k.a. Sweeney Todd (Johnny Depp) returns to London, from where he has been banished for crimes he did not commit and the corrupt judge, namely Turpin (Alan Rickman), who caused all of his troubles, abused his wife - who took arsenic to escape her pain - and became the tutor of Sweeney's daughter, Johanna (Jane Wisener). Sweeney seeks vengeance, pairs up with Mrs Lovett (Helena Bonham Carter), a widow, together they kill and bake scores of people, finally murdering the judge. In the closing sequence though it turns out, that Sweeney has killed his wife, along with the so many strangers, out of mistake, so he kills Mrs Lovett but he dies, too, because a young boy, Toby (Ed Sanders), who's very fond of the widow, kills him, as vengeance, also.
There are better plot summaries, I know, but I couldn't leave it out, in case someone isn't yet introduced to the movie.
Sweeney's conduct is a classic vendetta, which he plans to materialize by any means necessary. His self-assigned quest is something, that is hard to categorize as immoral. Well, yes, it's wrong to kill a man and it is far, far more wrong to kill a great number of men, yet we can't disregard the information about Turpin's terrible acts. We can say, that we probably wouldn't kill like Sweeney did but it's still hard to say, that his actions are wrongful, since he has the best imaginable motivation. In summary, what he intends to bring down on Turpin and London is understandable and, no matter how much we argue, just.
As the story goes on we get to see a little more of Turpin, who is represented as a heartless, sick person, to say the least. He is seemingly worthy of his overhanging punishment and he just keeps giving us reasons to hate him, and the banner of righteousness to Sweeney.
While Sweeney's struggling to get a chance to finish his vendetta, he kills many people, whom are baked by Mrs Lovett. This is an extremely provocative notion. As Sweeney is placed on a - disturbing and arguable - moral high ground, there is a seeming moral justification of his killing spree. The purpose this monstrosity serves is nothing else, than - apart from mere practice - cleansing the society of the bourgeois--we'll return to this.
In the end, however, everything takes a chaotic turn and what has seemed to be logical and moral - though disturbing and hard to agree with - loses its core element: the purity of its motivation. Has it not been for Sweeney's blindness he could've returned to his wife and with probably a lot of difficulties he could've redeemed himself from whatever he's been accused with. He could've got back his only child, as well. Sweeney realizes all this and kills Mrs Lovett, who has had key importance in his destruction, but it brings him nothing, apart from a very sudden and ironic death. The reason why it is hard to argue Sweeney's right to murder all those people is, that he seems to have a natural right to balance out his loss. This is what disappears in the finale: he must face the fact, that he isn't omniscient, he's not above nature but inside. All of his killings, his vendetta, basically everything turns out to be unjustified and immoral, and this is what our instincts have been telling us all along the movie. This story tells, how no man can rise above the rest of humanity or any given society, and how important it is to always stride on the path of morality, otherwise we'll run into great catastrophes, which are all self-inflicted. Lovett's bakery is a quite unmistakable and disgusting representation of socialism. Although in our society it's not a question whether socialism is right or wrong, this story, for some reason, still asks it but also gives a fast and clear answer: this mechanism of destruction was the one, which led to the demise of the one, whom Sweeney held the dearest.
In my personal opinion Sweeney Todd's tragic tale encourages us to watch the future with infinite hope instead of bitterness, no matter how terrible the past is.
What is Brendan Eich?
Nearly everyone has heard of how Brendan Eich, Mozilla's former CEO, stepped down because of a scandal around his contribution to an organization that sought to ban gay marriage. Conservatives and liberals have been engaging in heated debates on this matter and this post isn't to determine who's right or who's wrong. What it is meant to discover is the phenomenon itself.
The interpretations I've encountered are:
#1: Opposing liberals meant that Eich made a strategically wrong step. Admitting to failure, he decided to step down.
#2: His personal standpoint went against the very mission of Mozilla, which was not creating profit but spreading openness, freedom and such with a diverse community.
These arguments. however, don't directly lead to the actual consequences. The reasons why these are misleading, inaccurate arguments are:
#1: Even though in politics and everyday life we all try to bring our own views to victory, a liberal couldn't oppose Eich. A liberal answer to his donation would have been nothing but total respect. That is because such a reply would be in favor of diversity, although all-inclusive includes the ones, who don't agree even with inclusiveness. There are many forms of liberalism but none of them would scold Eich's contribution to that organization. In summary, he couldn't oppose liberalism in a way that would lead liberalism away.
#2: Brendan Eich made his contribution as an independent individual, back in 2008. Now he spoke against everything that could oppose the gay society. He realized that holding up such views would definitely infringe Mozilla's mission. Still, his altered position promoted diversity. One could say that he is responsible for the collectivity of his actions but he actually faced this past act of his, trying to make it fit to the company's mission. Opposing Eich would actually mean failing this mission because at least toward him they close their imaginary gates and would exclude him.
What I'm trying to articulate is that there cannot be any idealistic reason to support his stepping down. On what grounds do many support it then?
(Before making my thesis, I want to note, once more that I'm not saying Eich was right or wrong when donating to the anti-gay organization, neither the same about his stepping down. Now back to the point...)
What this case tells us is that though people sympathize with liberalism or communitarianism or anything else, most of them don't actually belong to them. Eich's opposition (the kind, which doesn't only have a different view but instead is actively against him/agrees with his resignation) doesn't consist of liberals or any other group of idealists, instead of people, who may sympathize with them but they themselves are essentially different.
Carl Schmitt wrote that the main function of politics is to distinguish between friend and enemy. Schmitt wasn't a liberal--more importantly he wasn't an idealist but a realist.
Eich's opposition makes an enemy out of him. They called on Mozilla users to uninstall their browser and stop using their products. They took up a fight against him with smart methods, ones, which were enough to make the continuation of his being a CEO impossible.
It's not a question whether or not Eich was right but whether or not he is a friend to us. Not a liberal community opposed him but rather a realist one that, at best, only serves a liberal community. They can sympathize with liberals but they can't be them.
The reason why I thought this whole matter important to see is that it's not the age of idealism any more. Of course I can't deal an absolute in regards of this because the political sphere is very mixed and while there are realists in it, we can just as easily name another huge group of idealists. My ultimate point is that this presently emerging trend is, contrary to popular statements, not liberalism, or any other form of idealism but realism instead, where one can't rely on rights or morals, only on the inclinations of those, possessing power.
An Open Letter to TFioS
Dear TFioS,
I got you for Christmas and I watched you in the movie-theater last Saturday and I like you. I like you but that doesn’t mean I don’t have something to say to you.
Of course your unorthodox and irreverent plot is refreshing and it really talks to people in many ways. This is somehing that people are craving—what I personally am craving and thank you for being this way. A book review said that you are “damn near genius” and you are so. It sounds like a huge compliment (one that I’ve never received, so I sort of envy you for it) but this isn’t the greatest one, which would be:”it’s genius”. John Green is made of awesome and so are you, TFioS, still, neither of you are made of genius. Let me elaborate:
#1: Is the fault really in our stars? John Rawls would probably congratulate you on the fine point you have made about how nature is creating random inequality and unfairness. What mindless animal would one have to be to say that it is fair what Hazel and Gus went through, none of it out of their own making or desert? Their example—and the title really—shows what a great fault there is in what our lot is in life. It would have been fair if Hazel and Gus’ cancer was given to an evil mass-murderer—yeah, I don’t really mean that; no one should get cancer, ever. You tell it wondrously that no matter who you are or what you’ve done, this sort of pain is unbearably immense. Everyone deserves the same and that same would be a normal life, which is free of disease, free of tragedy, free of all sorts of bad things. Everyone deserves it because of human dignity, which is everybody’s. When Gus calls Hazel to the petrol station to help him because he got very sick, we get to see the unromanticized version of dying from cancer, which is the true version of dying: painful and miserable. This whole thing is an attempt to introduce us—through characters we get to care about and truly heartbraking events happening to them—to the reality of undeserved suffering in the world. I used the word:”undeserved”, but is it really? It would also be fair if everyone on earth was suffering the same as these kids, wouldn’t it? As I’ve said before, only a terrible person would say that, and that’s because of human dignity. And where does that come from? One could say that:”Yes, people do terrible things sometimes but no one deserves to suffer or experience pain.” Such a statement would be based on the concept of dignity, which’ existence we can only assume, following our moral compass, our feelings. Naturally, I wouldn’t say that there’s no such a thing as human dignity or that I want to see someone go through this hell. My point is that the origin of dignity is not inspected thoroughly and it cannot be a groundless assumption. If we built on it, first we’d need to see why it’s an unshakable foundation.
#2: Infinities are problematic. I’m not going to discuss the mathematical inexactitude of your statement about the size of the infinity between 0 and 1 compared to the one between 0 and 2 because you’ve already apologized for that and also because it doesn’t really matter. At the end of the story, when Hazel remembers her time together with Gus, she is really grateful for their “little infinity”. I suppose she means that their relationship and their experiences were immeasurably valuable, even if smaller in number than the one’s of someone with a greater lifespan. This serves as a poetic and sublime element, though it also implies that even where there is great pain, there’s beauty. But if all that is equal in worth to what other people have, then why is it sad that they have to die? Or is it not sad at all? Is it okay for them to have to go through all that horror and then die so young? It’s rather terrible—or unspeakably terrible. But if only the quantity and the length of beautiful things in life matter, what’s the limit of having a good life? If everyone had the same amount of happiness and the same length of it and an equal lifespan, I suppose that’d count as a good world. But wouldn’t we try to extend the length of our lives if everyone was to live 80 years already? It would be neat if everyone lived for 200 years, wouldn’t it? And if Hazel and Gus were to live 80 years, whereas everyone else 200 years, would that count as a tragedy, too? Is it just the relative length and amount that matters or is it the absolute of them? It seems that both do: we want a relatively and an absolutely longer, richer life. That’s alright, of course. The ultimate thing we would settle with is infinity—literal infinity, not just the allegorical one. To have Hazel be grateful for what they shared is really awesome, my point is really what this tells the audience is unclear and/or indefinite.
#3: Where’s that extra mile? When Hazel and Gus are talking about what comes after death, I thought some conclusion would be made. Okay, there was actually this: even people, who believe in something transcendent aren’t necessarily morons. Thanks, I appreciate it, but whether or not there’s an afterlife, or whether or not God exists, these are sort of important questions. Especially when you’re so conscious about your imminent death. The whole thing is understandable, of course, since to someone who is not a believer, it’s obvious that there’s no Heaven, no Lord, no nothing, yet I was extremely let down, when Gus said that there has to be a point to it all and Hazel’s reply was about the overall pointlessness of everything AND then no distinct conclusion, apart from what’s above. It’s nice of you not to take away the hopes of christians though. But to make two teenagers so profound as Hazel and Gus are and then just let them be diplomatic about the point (or the pointlessness) of being is just lazy. It’s popular to think that a writer’s duty is to ask important questions but it is also their duty to offer answers to important questions and not be like:”Yeah, ‘A’ might be the ultimate truth, but whoever says ‘B’ is it, well, yeah, they’re totally cool to say that.”
Okay, TFioS, I’m sorry for criticizing you, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or something. You are a beautiful book—you never forgot to be awesome. Thank you for existing and thank you for feeling the pain of everybody, especially of those who feel the greatest pain.
Best wishes,
B
P.S.: Okay.
Modern-day weddings
I've been on a big number of weddings now. On fabulous ones, with huge fortunes invested and on plain ones, that were almost for free. On ones, where it wasn't the first marrige, and on ones, where it wasn't the last.
It makes me wonder: what kind of wedding did they want. Though the most obvious question is: why did they want to get married on the first place? It's totally out of fashion, as many say, it's just a piece of paper, or a bureaucratic approach of romance. These modern views shoot a bullet straight through my heart and everything I love about love.
Marriage is supposed to be the sacred covenant, which establishes, that the subjects really want to spend the rest of their lives together. In love. In olden days, divorce was forbidden, or at least scandalous. These days we interpret it as obligated suffering throughout life. But why? Love should and can last forever. It can follow you through all your years and can make them worth to live through. I have seen examples of this kind of attachment, and this is what keeps me believing in marriage.
A couple days ago I was at a wedding. It was a very small-scale one, simplistic but somehow magical, inspiring, wonderful and delightful. At the dinner, there was some quiet music, no dancing, no big party really, only a few games for the young couple. It sounds utterly boring, however, it was a true example of their care for each other. The guests weren't neglected, or such, only they were shown what real love looks like. And it looks like a fairy tale.
When there is real love between two, it deserves a chance. And this chance isn't just living together, or making love, or fancy gifts. It's way more than that. True, honest love needs a fireplace, where it can eternally blaze, keeping warm those around it. It needs reassurance of its value, lifespan and absoluteness. If you marry the person you love, you can create a home, a family, basically a life, without doubt, without insecurity. Okay, it needs a little more than marriage but marriage is a fine brick of the house of a great life.
I want to believe, that marriage can be the great start of the grandest advanture of our lives. :)
Some discipline
I've finished my book. At least a thousand times but still, here I am, working on it. But now it seems too much. Why isn't it simply done?!
I'm lucky though, because I never intended it to be for me. And the true recipient of the whole story always inspires me. Always. Even when she just comes to my mind. I always feel strong enough to eventually get to the other side.
I suppose we all have this feeling sometimes. I mean, I'm extremely lucky to have a special woman in my life but I cannot picture you, yes you my reader, without at least some very distant, unreachable person, whose glimpse would not make you do wonders.
Yeah, so get up and do your homework, Loki-head (I just made that up but seems terrible, however, I'm never deleting any stupid stuff, so it stays)!
Randomness rules, by the way...
An Essay on Café Society
Woody Allen’s most recent film, Café Society, has been probably the season’s most anticipated piece in a few circles, as the old writer-director has unceasingly uphold his reputation in the past several years. He had many exceedingly and a few hardly memorable movies in his line of annual releases. This year’s film is simultaneously a worthy continuation and a surprising departure from the latest trend in the Woody Allen factory.
In numerous respects it’s a classical piece with all the usual themes: urban life, particularly the praise of New York; disillusionment; the overall pointlessness of life; being a Jew in America; neurosis and neurotics; unfulfilled love, and jazz. In some ways these were easily identifiable and fresh but at the same time they seemed to be somewhat rushed and stale--it is almost impossible to describe it without contradictions.
In this period piece we get to follow the life of a Jewish New York family and their several exploits. In the focal point there is a young, neurotic Jessie Eisenberg, who looks and acts quite similarly to the young Woody Allen. He falls in love with an unsuccessful, unspoiled Hollywood debutante, even has a chance at a short romance with her but his influential, wealthy and well-loved uncle takes the girl. As the protagonist returns to his hometown, he finds solace in high social life and a nicely growing success as a bar manager. The movie ends without many great twists and turns, with a few bitter moments of the once-lover couple meeting but never chancing at starting again together.
I think it’s unnecessary to go into details concerning the family, the why’s and how’s, as the real treasure that this film is is hidden somewhere else.
In the context of the last twenty years of Woody Allen movies he has arguably been creating more of essays than solid works. The characteristics of his films have been changing, from the surreal reality to more subtle ways. The incomplete list of his themes above is very well-known among the people who have seen at least three or four of his works and there seems to be a will to find a perfect body for a Woody Allen film. Evidently experimentation with tone, color, period, narrative tools and much more have been defining the writer-director’s approach to his work.
Firstly, the tone is now balanced and masterful. With Match Point, and Irrational Man he has gone down the path paved by Dostoevsky. The dark brutality that he has tried to grasp in humanity has been so refined now that he probably felt it burdensome to emphasize its graveness and made it as frivolous as is fit to someone, who grew up on classical film noires. But also the romantic and neurotic air, so typical, has been refined into a cynical calmness, beyond even the point of “I can only laugh”. We have all seen the disillusionment of Woody Allen but it seems the energetic overtone is now smoothing out, which is a good thing, since the things to replace it are subtlety, mastery and unpretended grandeur.
As regards the color and period of this film I must say this is the closest I have seen to perfection. Obviously these work as great reassurances to the subject matter of the movie but there is also an important subtle depth to them. His most successful attempts at these two have been Irrational Man and Midnight in Paris. The former with its rosy color foreshadowing violence, the latter being half-set in the most resonant period of American history. In some respect Café Society is an adaptation of The Great Gatsby, dwarfing Baz Luhrman’s--in comparison--cheap attempt. In the titular film several moments are highlighted and tainted with a golden shade--something not similar but identical to Fitzgerald’s work. At first it seems to underline the high hopes and dreams of the likable protagonist and it then gradually flowers into the color of death and decay, more and more disappearing from Jessie Eisenberg’s scenes and more and more coloring death around him. In the beginning he is hopeful, he is made golden but what it symbolizes loses meaning and moves into external things, for example originally he feels this golden color and loves a brunette, then in the end feels nothing close to that but his wife has golden hair. The period of the film is also evocative of The Great Gatsby: one will feel both a romantic feeling for that specific time and a detachment because of the overhanging horror.
In To Rome with Love we have seen a contemporary, yet clear narrative with multiple storielines to follow, hardly ever intersecting each other, connected mainly by the place but not limited by anything. Now Café Society is far more conservative but clearly shows the understanding that the creator has obtained through a daring project. It is subtle, it is a lot but it is enough--according to this blogger. Here it is the family members that create multiple dimensions, although they are pointing toward a final intersection inside our protagonist. To me it’s these simultaneously running stories that create the oh-so-familiar feeling of neurosis in Café Society.
A nowadays often looked-down-upon tool has been utilized in the film: voice-over. However there is nothing to be despised about it, since it is no more than semblance that it served the function of exposition--in fact it is subtle but continuous cynicism, magnified only by the past experiences with Woody Allen films. It speaks a language known only to the adepts but to them it speaks it quite comprehensibly.
Even the casting of this film is subtly outstanding. We have several savvy choices of returning actors from past Woody Allen movies, like our old Hemingway as the brute of the family, or pseudo-neurotic Jessie Eisenberg. What I think is the greatest decision with regards to the actors is Steve Carell, who is Italian enough to play a Jew--a joke a little too much on the nose...
Overall this film is one more step in the direction of at least my ideal of a Woody Allen film. It has so numerous merits, it looks so subtle, expensive, real and beautiful that I won’t stop praising it in a reasonable space of time.
my head is hurting because i thought about my future for 0.3 seconds
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I mostly write. Read at your leisure but remember that my posts are usually produced half-asleep and if you confront me for anything that came from me I will be surprisingly fierce and unforeseeably collected. Although I hope we will agree and you will have a good time.
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