Revisiting the novel “Gone with the Wind”

by Cygne Sauvage

If I were to present a review of Margaret Mitchell’s celebrated novel Gone with the Wind at the time I read it the narrative would be filled with exaltation of the author’s remarkable feat in essaying a young woman’s struggle and victory against the backdrop of American Civil War. I was a college freshman, then. My country was reeling under spikes of political unrests, threats of social revolution and economic downturn. Digital communication was beyond our imagination. We relayed messages overseas via snail mail; foreign news were at the inner pages of newspapers rarely broadcast on radio or television. A computer was the size of a classroom.

Romance novels offer good escape mechanism for a young student of science who happened to be an anti-social bookworm. Gone with the Wind swooped into fame with Scarlet O’Hara’s ponderous dalliance with Rhett Butler as the selling point, for why else the most famous quotes from the novel are whimsical utterances by the lead male protagonist — “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” or “You should be kissed, by someone who knows how.”

As the persona of a perky, recalcitrant female heroine pervaded the psyche of this budding idealist raring as well to traverse the path to financial independence, the racial injustice reeking in every chapter of the novel was innocently glossed over. My exposure to US history was merely in one high school subject taught by a bookish naive mentor whose emphasis was on dates and personalities not on events. So slavery was a far concept, then, to elicit emotional strain. Further, Americans were regarded as liberators in my country for their role in the Second World War, hence they were always generally welcome in our society regardless of their skin color. Though anti-American sentiment was on the rise, the protestation was about imperialism.

Fast forward to the 82nd year since the novel’s publication, the growing rage against racial injustice accentuated by violent attacks on African-Americans, exposes the extensive forms of racism promulgated in every genre of the society.

The pubescent scholarly reader then, now a seasoned sophisticated graduate of schools of hard knocks revisits the novel whose heroine she has long idolized. This initiative is to a great extent moved by the pullout of its movie version from HBO Max’s roster. And yes, with more conscientious demeanor, the glaring truth becomes quite palpable. The book condones the inequity that has long permeated societies, made more blatant by the film. It promotes white supremacy as the natural course of social order and trivializes the profound racial issue by depicting as a normal societal norm the black people as servile, loyal vassals of the white elites.

Actually, the novel, despite the civil war as its contextual frame, does not carry a political tone. But that’s precisely its inadequacy and perhaps “sin.” It encompasses a sensitive issue in human relations for which it does not take a critical stand. But this can’t be expected from an author who grew up in Georgia, the state that enforced laws mandating the separation of blacks and whites in schools, trains and most public places.

In this novel the reverberations of “Black Lives Matter” are gone with the wind.

A stand-in for inane product blurbs

by Cygne Sauvage

I have come across several articles enunciating the benefits derived from drinking coffee, the beverage whose harmful caffeine has been pounded into my consciousness since I learned to drink fluid from a cup. Likewise, there’s this audacious social media post sourced from an unverified printed publication claiming that the brew can prevent a bunch of dreaded illnesses. Science has not corroborated, neither opposed, these pronouncements.

And there’s this assertion about dark chocolates as antidote for depression citing statistics to support this postulation. Accordingly, the concoction from the cocoa plant has been used for medicinal purposes in settlements of indigenous people in Mexico prior to its exploitation into commercial business by asture merchants. If this were so then it must be registered as a good substitute for Prozac. Why the medical community has not fully acknowledged this is simply because this assertion has not passed the theoretical stage.

Similarly, red wine is being touted as the key behind the so-called “French Paradox,” the intriguing situation of low incidence of cardiovascular diseases among citizens of the country that gave the world foie gras and baguette despite the attendant greasy food such as lamb chops, butter and cheese in their diet. Whether the harm from its alcohol content, stated in empirical studies to activate breast cancer cells, outweighs the advantages remains contentious.

I think the most bizarre glorification of a product, notwithstanding it is just an indirect hint, is cigarette smoking as an antidote to coronavirus infection. A seemingly opportunistic stance written amidst people’s anxiety over the pandemic, the article highlights the low percentage of smokers among Covid-19 patients in France whereas they constitute 60% of the population. But this was hastily based on observations made in three French hospitals, hardly to hold water or merit scientific investigation, perhaps.

It is not established whether some firms carrying these products are behind these subtle blurbs, but refutation of these claims would be awkward on their part. Nevertheless, these inevitably are helpful in boosting their brand’s sales and image.

However, putting emphasis on unproven theoretical benefits of a brand does more harm to the consumers and offers potential backlash to the company. A commodity’s effect on users’ well-being can’t possibly result to a generally uniform beneficial outcome. A therapy for one can be a toxic pill for another.

Manufacturers rather should protect their clients’s welfare for they’re the lifeblood of their firms’ staying power in the market.

A notable approach in product promotion upholding consumers’ interests is that of Coca Cola’s. The company has battled several accusations the most high-profile of which is its devastating health effects, particularly as the cause of diabetes. Rather than contradict the protestations, it introduced sugarless concoctions. Much unlike the attitude of a brand for painkiller when the global health institution warned of its inflammatory effects, aggravating the severity of coronavirus infection.

Coca-Cola’s travails are documented in the book Inside Coca-Cola: A CEO’s Life Story of Building the World’s Most Popular Brand. It demonstrated that for a corporation to be sustainable it must not only be profitable but its consumers must likewise be prosperous in order that they could continue patronage. A very sound proposition indeed, that Coca-Cola, through its then CEO, Neville Isdell, the author of the book, pioneered the concept of Connected Capitalism.

Lest I be misconstrued, I commend the noble initiative, not the product. I never drink soda.

Isdell is the son of social activists and a trained social worker who opposed apartheid in South Africa. A peripatetic executive who has even traveled to a remote town in my country which I have not been to, he believes that Coca Cola must “improve the societies in which its customers live,” through the commodity essential to both of them and the corporation: water.

Coke is 99% water which is a resource generally scarce in many impoverished communities. This started Coca-Cola’s partnership with various communities in the installation and management of water systems, the fundamental principle of connected capitalism.

This scheme differs from corporate social responsiblity which banks on goodwill projects totally unrelated to the business. Connected capitalism highlights the consumers’ participation in the business through a mutually beneficial partnership.

Perhaps other products can emulate this model.

A small waistline and national development

by Cygne Sauvage

When physical distancing was still a personal choice rather than an imposition from health experts I often attended poetry reading, book launching, art exhibits and book sales. In my country these events command sparse attendance, usually from nerds and anti-socials, as majority of the denizens prefer to bombard their eardrums with Cold Play’s repertoire, or throng to latest iPhone model launch, or swarm into visiting K-pop idols.

Hence, ramming through a massive pile of books in a huge annual grand sale brought in by a US-based group of bibliophiles was effortless, no peril of being trampled or struggle for a share of oxygen. This was where I spotted an interesting read: French Women Don’t Get Fat.

The aphorism has not been unheard of but I was surprised that there’s even a book on it, and a bestseller at that. I thought it is more of a national brag similar to “Italian males are good lovers.” Observation-wise, my limited exposure to the expatriate community in my country allowed me to be invited to several official and social gatherings among France-based business people and diplomats. And, I agree, I still have to meet someone, regardless of gender, whose waistline exceeds half of a 60-inch tape measure.

The author Mireille Guiliano, presents inspiring tips, indirectly through her first hand experiences, on healthy eating without gaining the unwanted pounds.  It definitely discourages dieting, instead provides not-difficult-to-follow strategies on slowing down intake of carbs and other fattening edibles. Amidst positive prescriptions on not giving up on bread and pastries, wine, chocolates and regular three-course meals are featured recipes.

I have not been to France but narratives from friends who have fulfilled their dreams of climbing the Eiffel Tower warned me to prepare for endless walking which much has contributed to the population’s dearth of heavyweights, literally, that is. Everybody rides the train. Almost everyone is passionate about sports. Biking is ideal as there are vast public open spaces.

My thinking is that had French people need to go through two-way narrow streets sans sidewalks, or be stalled in traffic jams for hours, or be reduced into vegetative state inside a snail-paced public bus, perhaps their country would likewise be faced with the health issue of obesity.

Thus, being trim and healthy is not just a personal crusade. How a country, or even a community is planned has a substantial repercussion on its citizen’s health and well being. Unfortunately, developing countries have been overrun by political and social dilemmas at the expense of the quality of human resources.

An ideal urban plan is one that catalyzes its residents to walk leisurely from home to bus stations, fills the roads with mass transit so as not to cramp highways and accumulate carbon footprints, and offers ample open spaces for physical activities and sports.

Finding our little bookstore

by Cygne Sauvage

The bookstore I always frequented inside the campus of my college alma mater has an impressive and extensive collection of volumes, rare CDs, and magazines not usually carried by those in similar trade situated in commercial hubs.

What’s more remarkable about it is that it fits all these items in orderly fashion within the wooden perimeter of no more than 20 square meters including the space for the cashier and his antique adding machine. Its compilation of editions and reading materials is indeed a delight for bibliophiles that this modest stall housed in the University’s student arcade has been the haunt of nerds and geeks.

It is rare for a bookstore of this kind to survive the business outside of an institution of learning. My countrymen commonly don’t possess the penchant to read books such that the term “bookstore” is generically referred to as where school supplies, trendy stationery and notebooks , including toys could be purchased.

But not our little bookstore. It is not for someone who swoons over Nicholas Sparks’ stories or Mills and Boons series. Rather it caters to those who patiently leaf through the pages of Nabokov’s or Gunter Grass’ novels. Not once has the proprietor failed to deliver an order for an edition of a classic or an award-winning novel, or an academically acclaimed work in various discipline.

Thus this little bookstore has become one of the essential reasons in coming back to where I obtained my graduate and post-graduate diplomas. Passing by “our little bookstore” at least twice a month has been a ritual, acquiring tomes of both fiction and non-fiction that gradually built a tsundoku.

Tragedy struck the structure that provides the roof to this hangout of intellectuals. No stall was spared by the fire that razed it to the ground. We were all alarmed at this loss. It felt like our indispensable cord to our beloved alma mater has been severed; a glorious chapter of our life completely erased.

I could only try to gather information from concerned groups on social media. Three months after the tragic blaze a friend posted that our little bookstore is holding out in a portion of a vacant lot earmarked by the university to temporarily shelter the hapless businesses. The collection is protected by a medium-sized tent like structure no bigger than its original size. Lined up in the interior are shelves and tables filled with books, a big number of which were saved by students and faculty who braved the conflagration on that fateful night.

A queue of bibliophiles awaits outside the stained fabrics that provide the protective shield to the volumes of paperbacks and hardbound materials when I paid my visit to our little bookstore. I patiently stood on my slot until I was accommodated.

Despite the seeming impermanence of its setting I’m quite certain our little bookstore would always be around.

Suggested Reading: The 10 Most Unconventional Bookstores In The World https://www.bustle.com/p/the-10-most-unconventional-bookstores-in-the-world-44840

La Caverne aux Livres (The Cavern of Books) is built into an old postal train train in Auvers-sur-Oise, France. From the outside it looks like any other decommissioned train, but inside it’s a bookstore crammed with thousands of books of every kind.

Humans as Computer Chips

by Cygne Sauvage

What should we teach our children now if by the time they turn adolescents humans are reduced to mere computer chips in a series of bio-algorithms?

This is the issue that boggled my mind as I concluded my perusal of  Homo Deus, the second part of Yuval Noah Harari’s narrative of human history. This sequel to Sapiens is about possibilities in the future which may not be far-fetched considering the current developments in life sciences, biotechnology and computer science, such as an algorithm becoming a member of the board of a corporation.

Yes, possibilities, as what Harari prefers to call his projections as opposed to prophecies. According to him, these are among the potential directions in the future of the humankind, not discounting alternative scenarios, equally possible though not as probable, that may even run counter to his theories.

Nevertheless, these possibilities are novel and perplexing. One is that individuals will cease to exist as algorithm rules every facet of everyday living. Professions would be useless as the new geniuses, i.e., computer programs, take over their tasks and expertise, with thousand-fold accuracy. Freedom of choice would be made irrelevant by more reliable capabilities of artificial intelligence factoring in a gazillion of data to arrive at the wisest decision.

In other words, algorithms would transform humans unto useless beings in a parallel manner what the latter has done to other animals pre-judged as lower life-forms. I wish Harari would publish a third edition that would offer recipes for avoiding such a scenario.

The book reeks of nerdiness and geekiness displayed by the author in a very amusing, down-to-earth, easily understood narrative which makes the book an enjoyable read to people not in the same esoteric level of erudition. I am more impressed with Harari’s extensive knowledge across genres than with his presented theories which he explains with facility within the realm of consciousness familiar to the reader. From Charles Darwin to Justin Bieber to George Clooney, a well as facts which I, myself, have not encountered before whereas I thought I am a well-read person. That’s one big plus point of the book: factual revelations are stunning….., or maybe I am not really an intellectual.

If I got it correctly, Harari is telling us that the future presents an ironic situation for humans. While life-sciences, biotechnology and nanotechnology might possibly be conquering death and prolonging life spans, artificial intelligence would render humans to be no longer the most important mammal on earth.

Changing parameters of greatness

by Cygne Sauvage

Today the world salutes half of its population,  those whom nature held responsible for the growth and nurture of human embryos inside their anatomy,  enduring physical and emotional anguish to deliver and rear new life forms.  Those from whose enchanting hands developed great individuals who contributed to the advancement in the quality of life and made living as comfortable as possible.

However, a measure of a woman’s greatness is not limited to the capability of her reproductive system or her desire to procreate.  It should not be overlooked that women who chose a different path from starting a family, including those who freed themselves and transcended their given gender, can achieve eminence.

Unfortunately, high profile women in politics, in business or in the fashion world, bestowed with myriad accolades, similar to their male counterparts, have not escaped the changing parameters of greatness. Yesterday’s paladins could be today’s villains or tomorrow’s martyrs.

Thus, it is quite difficult to honour women or men for the grandiosity of their achievement.  A saviour in one country could be deemed as a traitor in another geographical horizon.

Therefore, I decide to hover around the discussion of women on those who emanated from the imaginative artistry of mankind, zeroing in on their strength of character, not on their “heroic” deeds.  There have been several of them whose stories have been told through generations and I can only mention those I have met through my reading passion.

Notable is Elizabeth Bennet created by Jane Austen in Pride and Prejudice.  She lived in a world that just wasn’t fair for women.  They can’t inherit a property and their only chance for survival is to marry. Yet, Liza Bennet was not cowed by this tradition and expectations that she rejected several marriage proposals including that from her would-be-husband Mr. Darcy. Rebecca Sharp  from William Makepeace Thackeray’s Vanity Fair is a strong-willed, cunning, moneyless, young woman who was determined and succeeded to make her way in society.

In Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude, although told through the history of the Buendia family focusing on the descendants of José ArcadioBuendía, his wifeÚrsulaIguarán is actually the anchor of the clan. She lives to be well over 100 years old, supervises the Buendía household through six of the seven generations spanned in the novel. A very strong character, she often is triumphant where the men of her family foundered, and leads them to the outside world.

At the center of the novel Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell is Scarlett O’Hara, who is pictured as mean and belligerent yet maintained her stubborn optimism as the civil war devastated not only their economy but the moral fiber of the society.

And I must include here Hester Prynne from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.  She’s been convicted of adultery and  forced to wear red letter A for the rest of her life. But, rather than leave or hide, she defiantly decides to challenge the hypocrisy of her Puritanical society. Combatant yet compassionate, Hester opposes  the prevalent oppression in her midst.

Peripatetic Spirit

by Cygne Sauvage

I was barely out of my secondary school when I “visited” Nepal, a country I‘ve been briefly made aware of by my world history subject.  The so-called sojourn was on my mind courtesy of the compelling book The Mountain is Young by Han Suyin.  From China’s celebrated author’s work of fiction, I learned much about the culture, the people as well as the locale’ Kathmandu, the capital town and where the story unfolded.  The novel carried me to the depths of the Himalayas and put me in a trance, swooning over the magical place as well as the main protagonist Unni Mennon, an engineer. Had it not been for Suyin’s prolific pen I would not have been able to reconnoitre the landscape of Chomolungma, the highest peak in the world which foreign intruders named as Mount Everest.

Though an actual physical presence is the best option, we have to accept limitations to travelling. Even the most peripatetic, jet-setting zillionaire equipped with modern aeronautical gadgets could not possibly penetrate every desirable nook and cranny of the globe. On the other hand, budget challenged globe trotters can only save as much for certain choice places to explore and unwind.  Perhaps this is the reason for having a bucket list of places to behold.

I navigated the dark waters of Venice canals through the investigative exploits of Donna Leon’s fictional hero Commissario Guido Brunetti.  Meanwhile, though the plots are not so alluring, what I found enjoyable in Dan Brown’s novels are the vivid descriptions cum extensive historical background of the terrestrial sites his protagonist Robert Langdon has been dragged into by the cases he has on hand to solve. In fact, in his book Inferno, the author seems to have veered too much from the main gist of the novel with his absorbing characterization of Istanbul.  All the other works of Dan Brown that I have taken time to read feature major geographical briefing: The Da Vinci Code, and The Lost Symbol.

Compared to a film whose advantage is presenting a panoramic visual of the place, a book’s edge is that it offers tons of information which the vista in the movie does not offer. A viewer definitely will fancy the pristine waters of Bermuda or Cayman Islands in James Bond flicks, but the detailed chronicles of the lush greenery of British countryside, such as in Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day, or the bustling Curacao in John Le Carre’s  The Night Manager cast more potent impact on a peruser’s psyche, as well as add greater improvement on one’s erudition.

I traversed the chaotic roads to Cambodia via the novel The Sympathizer, during the height of the Vietnam war, a sight that has been erased by modernization. Being transported back to places long lost in time is another plus point to reading a book.

Good looks absolve Mr. Grey of crime

by Cygne Sauvage

The world is still very much fascinated with a feudal relationship between genders. Except that the glorification of the “lord-victim” set-up is justified only when the masculine side of the relationship exudes power, pelf and good looks, with the last qualification the most essential as evidenced by the tremendous gross sales of the series on Mr. Grey.

The truth is I had not gone beyond the third page of the first installment, Fifty Shades of Grey. Its prose just did not appeal to my literary palate, especially that I had just devoured the absorbing book of John Le Carre’s latest edition, The Pigeon Tunnel.  On the other hand, I had digested all the reviews from respectable and reputable publications about this book series that tackles a sadomasochistic tryst hatched from the imagination of EL James. The write-ups all point to the main ingredients from where emanates the titillation of the fans, particularly the female sector which comprised the big bulk of readership: the male protagonist must be affluent, dashing, oversexed and oozing with beastly tendencies for violent pleasures, while the feminine partner must be virginal, submissive, innocent, delicate and most importantly, young and comely. Otherwise, the spell cast on the readers, especially among the thirty-something and above dames either enduring illusory relationships  or pining for blissful matrimony, will be non-existent. Accuse me not of sweeping judgment. All of my female contemporaries who belong to the age group just mentioned as well as the personal predicament described are ardent fans of the series though many of them are in state of denial, for reasons I cannot fathom. It is as if by having read the series one had committed a graver misdemeanor than the male lead character.

Charm coupled with opulence absolves a psychologically deranged bachelor from his crime of seducing a weak girl and inflicting physical harm, albeit the supposed victim does not fend off her partner’s twisted temperament.

Mr. Grey is not even an original personality in the  world of literature, if we can consider EL James’ volumes in this erudite class. He is not as interesting and suave as Jane Eyre’s Mr. Rochester and definitely far from the ingenuous imaginative evil of Marquis de Sade, the aristocratic debonair who captured the literary kingdom and left a legacy through his name as the term for such deviant psyche. Unlike Mr. Grey who is mere panache, the Marquis was the equivalent of a geek in his time being a writer, a poet and an artist.  Accordingly, the Marquis’s works influenced the succeeding centuries’ impressionist artists such as Monet and Degas. Two hundred years after,  his erotic writings still  generate shocking ripples. The Economist, in fact dubbed him as “The Original Mr. Grey” (Read here http://www.economist.com/news/21589093-marquis-de-sade-still-shocks-200-years-later-original-mr-grey)

Being with Scrooge, the Grinch and the Nutcracker is a better way to enjoy Christmas

by Cygne Sauvage

There is always the child in us that pops out every now and then. For some reasons not difficult to explain the young element in everyone’s heart unfailingly peeks out of its repressed status during the last two weeks of December. Well, Christmas is a religious celebration but it has pervaded humanity and transcended cultural nuances. The season evokes a particular aura that could penetrate and soften the meanest of the Ebenezer Scrooges out there.  In the spirit of this feast that is supposed to be about love and humility countries pardon criminals, war zones declare truce. Though cliché’ it may be, we wish it would be Christmas every day.

Certainly that is merely  a wish in a bubble.  Looking at the other end of the spectrum, civilization has trampled  what is regarded as the jolliest season of the year. Big business must have invented every possible way to attract shoppers, causing horrendous traffic, stress and anxiety as well as elevated systolic and diastolic readings.

The country where I have first known Christmas holds the record of the longest celebration, perhaps from the time Mary was told of the immaculate conception to the visit of the three magis. Once the calendar hits the ninth month of the year, carols fill the atmosphere, malls display everything that would not let you miss out on what is to come.  Technology further adds up to the sophistication of the commercialist attitude,  the materialist frames of mind, and of burying deeper in our subconscious what is Christmas all about.  Travelling becomes a difficult feat, gift-giving turns into a mechanical to-do list.

I have learned my lessons, thus, every Christmas time, starting four years ago, I chose to be in dreamland. I think this is much better than having a spat with the inefficient mall cashier or arguing with an airline crew over lost baggage, be caught by social media and go viral. Plus, doing so, digging into my old books about Christmas, perusing them anew lets out the child in me in a more relaxed mood.

Children’s books dealing with Christmas abound and they are always a pleasure to reread. Definitely, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens tops the list, the story that gave us the word “scrooge” in lieu of a miser.

The Nutcracker and the Mouse by E. T. A. Hoffmann in which a young girl’s  favorite toy, the Nutcracker, comes to life, battles the  Mouse King and takes her to a magical kingdom full of dolls has been adapted into a ballet with music provided by the famous Russian composer Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and is perhaps the most popular in the world under this dance genre.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Theodor “Dr. Seuss” Geisel  follows the Grinch, a grouchy, solitary creature who does not like Christmas so he steals every Christmas-related goods from the houses in a village on Christmas Eve. Despite this, the villagers still go on with their celebration which compels the Grinch to  return what he took  and became the  guest of honor at the Whos’ Christmas dinner.

A Child’s Christmas in Wales by the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas is a retelling of Christmases past  from the view of a young child,  portraying a nostalgic and simpler time. It is one of Thomas’s most popular works.

The Story of Holly and Ivy is a heart-warming tale of an orphan, a little girl named Ivy who leaves to search for her grandmother’s house and along the way she encounters Holly, a doll in a department store.  Little Ivy does not really have a grandmother as it is just a wish on her part. This wish is the basic theme of the story, which begins, “This is a story about wishing.”

Other books lined up for reading during the Christmas retreat from endless parties, hobnobbing with phonies and charlatans, pretentious exchange gifts and tone deaf carolers: The Line of Beauty by Alan Hollinghurst and Wolf Hall by Hillary Mantel.

Malcolm in the middle

by Marc Romyjos

Malcolm Gladwell doubles as a pet peeve and a genius for me, like those Freakonomics and Superfreakonomics guys (Levitt and Dubner).  Sadly, I still don’t know what Gladwell tries to make of himself. Maybe a type of innovator of thoughts. A New York Times article claims he is a well-read dillettante who is dependent on lessons from experts without being an expert himself. And now I’m convinced that the problem with guys who dip their noses into social phenomena and isolate them as variables floating in correlation to others is that they get caught thinking like amateurs.

So, I argue that we musn’t put excess faith in socsci bric-a-brac, the way we avoid professionalizing mere hobbies. They’re probably fun when the textbooks aren’t anymore.  Besides, it insults those who spend years amassing knowledge on singular interests, and corollarily, those who spend months and years writing thick dissertations with special focus. (That includes me)