totalitarianism today

Innovations in sailing.

You can thank leisure-conscious entrepreneurs for the latest innovations in sailing techniques, including computerized navigation and sail-hoisting. For old-fashioned ladies like myself, computers are exactly what I prefer to escape when sailing, but many more mod than I will find a way to appreciate this new in "the neat". Below, a photo of Ecotech's self-sailer, the Maltese Falcon.

Tintin's Soviet adventures: Early commi-skepticism in French cartoons.

Do I have a special place in my heart for the French Tintin because his first literary adventure took place in the land of Soviet Russia? Mais, bien sur.

In 1929, Tintin In the Land of the Soviets appeared in a children's supplement to a Belgian daily newspaper, Le Vingtième Siècle. Hergé's satire on the Soviet state preceded the grand anti-communist crusades of the 1940's and 1950's . Soviet propaganda to persuade the world outside Russia that the economy was booming was a particular target for Hergé, as were the activities of the secret police, the OGPU.

According to Benoît Peeters, the only source Hergé used when making this album was a book entitled, "Moscou sans voiles" from 1928 by Joseph Douillet. Douillet was the Belgian Consul in Rostov. Some of the scenes from the the album was taken directly from Douillet's book including the voting scene. Onderzoek shares the scene in question:

We see the communist comrade Oebijkon (who is resigning from the presidency) delivering a speech. This is what he says: 'We have tree lists: one of these comes from the communist party. Let anyone who is against this list raise their hand!' At the same moment Oebijkon and four of his comrades pull their revolvers and direct them menacingly at the peasant audience. Oebijkon continued: 'Who votes against this list? No one? Then I declare that anyone voted for the communist list. There is no need to vote for the other two lists anymore.'

Herge was just twenty-three when he wrote this first Tintin story. For more tantalizing Tin-isms:

• Yuri Kim has more on Tintin's  travels in the USSR.
• Listen to the Tintin TV series tune here.
• Enjoy the Greek-ish music associated with Tintin's travels and the Golden Fleece.
• Download an entire Tintin adventure in English; The Red Sea Sharks makes for great car tripping. And this French episode, truer to form, makes for great trips of all kinds.
• It never hurts to have a few Tintin coloring pages printed out for grumpy old folks and Francophobe friends. 
• The Economist pays tribute to Tintin, a "very European hero".
• Was Herge an anti-communist who collaborated with fascists? Or something equally bete? Some anti-Semitism mixed in there? More on Tintin's ideology.

Travel bugs.

Around this time of year, I'd give away my earliest back issues of Partisan Review for a few good weeks on a caravan. Though the horse-and-buggy is more appealing, I would certainly settle for something more futuristic, like the expandable mobile mini-house. Call it what you will, but that old restless twitching starts with the left leg and then climbs; all the things I've never seen present themselves in a parade before my closed eyes. It takes a Tylenol PM to kill the scene. And I want to kill a scene if I can't steal it.

NextStop is a travel site populated by the opinions of locals. Clean and easy to use, you might enjoy giving out your email to yet another account which promises to deliver the proxy for a transcendental experience. 

Living with Lawrence Durrell: A view from his windows.

Reading Lawrence Durrell's novels reminds me that, as a woman, my greatest possible achievement is to attract interesting men. Like his close friend, Henry Miller, Durrell's women tend to be superior blown-glass ornaments-- shiny, sparkly, and bloated with air. Don't misunderstand me-- I enjoy Durrell's fiction; what I don't enjoy is the limited horizons allowed his female characters. Rather than indulge the temptation to the obvious feminist critique of Durrell, further stimulated by my recent reading of Gordon Bowker's Through the Dark Labyrinth: A Biography of Lawrence Durrell, I going to leave Durrell's women in the shadows, as he would prefer, and turn my attention to his travels and landscapes.

Lawrence Durrell worshipped landscapes almost as much as he worshipped the un-ensouled female body. When the British-born Durrell was six years old, his family moved to India so his father could work on the British-Indian railroad projects. The family lived in Kurseong, on the India-Tibet border, but Durrell was sent to the Jesuit College of St. Joseph's at North Point. From his dorm window, he could see the snow-capped Himalayas and, on clear days, even Mount Everest itself. Durrell learned to rely upon majesty and wonder in his physical surroundings, so much so that he would spend his life turning and returning to the geographic Edens which inspired and satisfied his hunger for beauty. 

Durrell spent a few years living in Jamshedpur, a company town planned and built by Tata Iron and Steel Company, a perfectly-calibrated "Garden City". The photo, taken in the 1950's, shows the Founder's Day Celebration thrown by the Tata Company to honor itself and the founding of the railroads and Jamshedpur. Photos of Jamshedpur in the present are available at this Tata-sponsored website for the city. 

When the Durrell family moved back to Britain, Bowker suggests that the return did not please Lawrence:

England was a painful experience for the young Larry. He told Malcolm Muggeridge that being transported from the Indian jungle to a tidy suburb in East Dulwich had really staggered him-- a paralysing trauma. To have exchanged the rich pageant of exotic cultures, the dazzling scenery and sense of freedom and privilege which he had enjoyed in India for the cold, grey, gloomy London, where everyone seemed miserable, was a shock to the system.

Although Durrell's sensuality would never find a home in Britain, Durrell discovered specific places that opened the doors of his imagination. At the Southwark Cathedral, he found the brightly decorated tombs of poet John Gower and Shakespeare's actor brother, Edmund. Durrell loved to wander through the Cathedral, staring at the medieval gargoyles, coats of arms and other heraldic devices. Bowker speculates that Durrell's lifelong interest in heraldry was first stoked by his wanderings in the Southwark Cathedral.

As soon as was old enough to being exploring the Continent, Durrell started playing hooky from school, setting out on trips to Switzerland, Amsterdam, and France. "Born a foundling without roots.... his fidelity to England was more to a language than a place"... At this time, Durrell began his lifelong love affair with Paris. At Villa Seurat, Durrell formed the friendships that would develop and enrich his literary endeavors. Henry Miller and Anais Nin remained in his daily life until their deaths. Durrell remembers Villa Seurat as a place of "optimism and good cheer", where discussions would carry on through the night, meals procured at one of the many bistros around Parc Montsouris, journeys to Nin's apartment at 30 Quai de Passy, social hours with the members of the American Country Club, 

Corfu, now home to the Durrell School of Poetry, became Durrell's first true home. He would return to it at various  periods in his life when writing became difficult. En route to his first visit to Corfu, Durrell penned a few poems about seagulls in the Bay of Biscay before getting stuck in Brindsi, Italy due to an attempted coup d'etat against the Greek monarchy In Corfu. Durrell's appreciation of Italy, which he called "a country of waiters", did not extend past the legalized brothels and local vino. When the coup fears settled down, Durrell finally set foot in Corfu, where he booked into the Pensione Suisse.

Among the inspirations and treasures Durell would discover in Corfu: the Cathedral to St. Spiridion, the island's patron saint, whose mummified remains are paraded through the town esplanade every saint's day... The archaeological museum with ancient Greek relics... The old fortress... Barbati.... The Villa Agazini, which he rented... The Yellow Villa near Kontokali ... Pondikonisi, the famous Mouse Island which was really just a rock with a monastery perched upon it... The remote village of Kalami, where Durrell lived as a fisherman for a year... The cove with a fisherman's shrine to St. Arsenius... Durrell's fascination with Corfu and the local lore led to the publication of "Corfu: Island of Legends" in the March 1939 issue of National Geographic.

Durrell was frank about the stimulating effect of travel on his writings. Before his death, Lawrence Durrell would even spend time in the Foreign Service to ensure his ability to live abroad. Durrell's travelogue, at this point, will be rendered as a mere travel-log including the places, sights, and textures which would find a place in his novels: The Anglo-Egyptian Union in Cairo, the meeting place for writers and dilettantes + Alexandria's tolerant, sensuous relief, the city where wine and land measurement were invented, and Muslims, Nubians, Christians, and Jews co-existed happily + Beirut + Drives with women around Lake Mareotis + The Aegean island of Rhodes, where Durrell worked as director of public relations for the Overseas Information Service + The haunted island of Patmos, where the Church of the Apocalypse built over the cleft rock is said to hold St. John's hand + Lost ancient cities of Lindos and Cameirus + Buenos Aires, which bored him + Cordoba + Belgrade, where he became a fierce anti-communist + Chalcidice, the area south-east of Salonika + Cyprus + The Tree of Idleness in Greek village of Bellapaix + The deserted mosque and Turkish burial ground near Bellapaix, where he befriended the Turkish Hodja.

For more about Durrell, his writings, his travels, his family, and his friends = The International Lawrence Durrell Society + Inventions of Spring + Kenneth Rexroth essays, collected as "Lawrence Durrell", and published in various magazines from 1957-1960 + Durrell at Fantastic Fiction + "The digested classic: Justine by Lawrence Durrell", Podcast at Guardian UK + Durrell's White Eagles Over Serbia, a nonfiction work + "The Art of Fiction #23", Paris Review's interview with Durrell 

When the backpack beckons...

National Geographic Adventure magazine lists the 2005 top 11 hiking trails in the world, most of which are nowhere near the continental US. A few more "classic hikes" are excerpted in PDF from Peter Potterfield's book on the subject.

My favorite hikes, missed of course by the National Geographic, are in the Carpathian mountains of Romania. Nothing quite matches hiking the Fagarasi and the Bucegi mountains, especially the hike to Caraiman and Omu from Sinaia. If you plan this trip, give yourself a few weeks to go from Sinaia to Bran via the mountain trails. Unless you prefer to hike in the snow, summer months are best (Caraiman had snow in April last time I hiked it). Though marked, the trails to Caraiman and Babele are closed during the winter. Take the time to smell the the rock formations, including The Sfinx and Babele, which lend themselves well interpretive debate. And plan to stay at Cabana Caraiman for at least four days-- long enough to get your fill of playing cards and washing in the snow.

Good hiking resources for planning a trek in Romania include:

• The Romanian Mountain Hiking Guide run by Iulian Cosma, which lists tons of great mountaineering and hiking trips
• The Trail Database
• Roclimbing.net, for alpinists
• Malcolm Ford's "Postcards from Romania" include some inspiring photos of Caraiman
• Vlad Ghiea's notes about the history of the cross on Caraiman
• "Culture-shocks" for a group of Western bicyclists when visiting Romania for the first time, including the real taste of tomatoes
• Map of medieval fortresses in Romania
• Photos of Rasnov and a little historical spiel
• "Casa Alina", a hostel in Bran
• Photos of the castle in Bran
• Tuica aplenty and, for the entrepreneurial, tuica-making devices

Changing the world just got a little cheaper.

With a little help from Apple iPod and Ben of the duo formerly known as Ben and Jerry, Jesse Brenner and Eric Herman started Modiba Records to use African music to help people caught in the escalating ethnic violence in Darfur, Sudan. According to Businessweek, the Afrobeat Sudan Aid Project (ASAP) is the label's first release, a compilation of African-beat music with 100% of the proceeds going to Kebkayiah Smallholders Charitable Society, a community group that helps the Sudanese find food and shelter.

The Canadian migration.

In the wake of the tragic election outcomes, a few of my friends have expressed the desire to flee this country and emigrate to Canada. (Suicide is not a viable option.) Canada's immigration website received a record number of hits over the past week. There are despondent Democrats heading for the border from Illinois. There are also disenchanteds hailing from New York. And of course, there is yours-somewhat-truly in Arlington, Virginia.

Harper's magazine has a guide for those "electing to leave". Louisa Herron Thomas discusses the possibilities of getting to Canada for Slate. Kevin Berger breaks it down for Salon. On the other side of the fence, Sarah Anderson gives ten reasons not to make a clean break for Canuck-dom. My view is that you are probably best-off with a plain, old-fashioned visa wedding. Nothing ruins a fine romance like fire and brimstone. Choose, instead, to find love, peace, and prosperity with a spouse-hungry Canadian near you. Now all we need is the soundtrack.

Another reason to savor travelling.

Browsing through my book-notes, I stumbled on a quote from The Atlantic Monthly in a "Note and Dispatch" from Ian Frazier, which reminds me why travelling remains so sweetly satisfying. Apart from abandoning the baggage of everyday life and associations, travel also enables the melancholy loner. The poet Jeffrey McDaniel is correct to write, "A good god is hard to find." Given that gods seem rather busy fund-raising or entertaining devoted parishoners, the pretense of travel-- discovering another world-- is often the excuse we need for self-discovery and reflection. As Frazier writes:

"When I was younger, I used to-- not enjoy, exactly, but take a certain satisfaction from being melancholy and depressed...In later years, married and with kids, I had to give up this indulgence. Walking around depressed with no reason is disagreeable behavior for which family and friends will rebuke you, rightly. Plus, I just didn't have time for it anymore. Whenever I'd get started on a good downslope of melancholy, family concerns or pleasures would distract me, and I would abandon my mood in irritation. Nowadays, my only opportunity for an old-fashioned, self-indulgent sulk comes when I'm travelling."

File under "plastics" and pleasantries.

A day of pleasant surprises. After discovering Yazad Jal, I stuttered through one of the most terrible books put to print. How wonderful to find that, in addition to cheaper plastics and high-quality speaker systems, globalization is bringing nice hooters to India. Revealed preferences are sublime.