The Painting of You

The Painting of You
Author’s Press Series, Vol. 1
ISBN: 978-0-557-12874-7
80 pages. Paper. $10.00

From the book's order page comes this description:

Designed and published by William Michaelian, the Author’s Press Series was conceived as a set of relatively inexpensive, uniformly designed titles meant to explore different themes and facets of his writing. The eighty entries in this first volume, The Painting of You, blend poetry and prose written in a three-year period during which the author was caring for his mother in her home while she was battling Alzheimer’s Disease. The difficulties they faced are set against a revealing backdrop of family history, daily life, and dreams, as their roles are reversed and their friendship is deepened and colored by change.

I’m not going to pretend this is a review of the book, but rather a few thoughts on reading these pieces. William’s poetry and prose (if I may pretend familiarity) explores not just the decline of his mother from Alzheimer’s disease but also the task of caring for her and the toll such a role placed on him. Despite the ongoing sense of loss and grief, William also displays a sense of wonder. The disease’s persistent subtraction from his mother’s mind raises many questions. The answers are sometimes slippery and elusive, other times clear:

How much does our memory define not just who we are but also those around us? Which is worse—the mother’s loss of memory about prior events or the son’s continual remembrances? Is his mother’s descent a travelling “from who she was” or are there innumerable instances of who she is?

The connection between William and his mother intensifies even though she grows more distant. The love and safety he provides cannot be erased by Alzheimer’s. In assisting his mother along the path of the disease’s journey, William describes how the ache in helping also “makes music of our pain.”

Addendum: I meant to mention the similarity of my questions with a post I made on The Odyssey, which included some thoughts about the memory theme in the work. The understanding on memory and identity displayed three millennia ago is rather humbling.

I know the feeling

I get the feeling that store sells more than just books.

Reading has been at a standstill the past few weeks, but hopefully time will free up soon.

Other books I've been reading

The most popular books this week with the above audience:

Doctor Dolittle's Circus--we should finish this book tonight and start on the next in the series this weekend
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
Thomas and the Big, Big Bridge
Olive the Other Reindeer--I think they are hoping to get a jump on Christmas

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: Book Two “At the Front"

Švejk before the divisional court
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

Despite this section’s title, Švejk does not make it to the front, although if the real battle is with bureaucracy then he is constantly "at the front." He does travel, with and without his regiment, from Prague to a staging and training area just east of Vienna. By accident, Švejk’s train to the staging area stops due to the emergency brake being pulled. While being questioned about his involvement in this incident, Švejk’s train continues without him. After missing the next train, he is told to walk to the camp. His “Anabasis” follows him through the countryside, meeting good-hearted people that wish to help him. A sergeant assumes Švejk’s simplistic answers mask a cunning Russian spy, detaining the simpleton for interrogation. After being cleared of charges and spending three days in gaol, he is reunited with Lieutenant Lukáš at the staging area/camp near Királyhida. Švejk botches the delivery of a love letter from Lukáš, leading first to his arrest and then to his appointment as company orderly. The section ends as the company prepares to travel to the front, although which one (Russian or Serbian) is uncertain. Along the way we meet new characters like the army volunteer, whose stint as editor of The Animal World magazine saw him invent Dr. Seuss-like animals for his publication. The following are a few general themes that caught my eye in this section:


Increased focus on the war
Several times Hašek has characters wish for death, usually in a jest or at least in a light-hearted manner. When Švejk tells Lieutenant Lukáš that he is awfully happy to be sent to the front because it will “be really marvelous when we both fall dead together for His Imperial Majesty and the Royal Family”, the reader laughs at Švejk’s simplemindedness. A little later the lieutenant muses that getting killed at the front will cause him to “be quit of this miserable world, in which a hideous brute like Švejk was rampaging about.” There are several more examples like this, the musing or wish being whimsical to some extent. After a while the reader has to question how unbearable things have become when a preference for death is repeatedly considered, however lighthearted the intent.

During Švejk’s Anabasis, he was usually viewed as a deserter despite his protestations to the contrary. He was helped despite (or rather because of) his purported deserter status. Those trying to help Švejk give many reasons in helping a deserter, but most fall under some form of compassion. The contrast with the earlier enthusiasm for the war (sometimes dubbed in history books as “August madness”) is explicitly detailed by the narrator and one of the soldiers. Both compare the earliest receptions by soldiers with the meager greeting (or complete indifference) by locals expressed at this point months into the war.

There are a few accounts, mostly second-hand, of the fighting at the front, although the first report does not occur until page 303 in my version of the book (almost halfway through the novel). Following the first description of the front is another that revolves around just how much defecation happens in battle and at death…an extremely graphic and memorable passage. The volume of army desertions are high while various officers fail to address basic problems underlying the campaign, focusing on military trappings or discipline instead.

Observations from the narrator happen more frequently in this section than in Book One. Hašek can be subtle in his jests and descriptions while at other times he ascends a soapbox. While there is nothing subtle about the following, Hašek is at his most effective in moments like this description:

Before the arrival of the passenger train the third-class restaurant filled up with soldiers and civilians. They were predominantly soldiers of various regiments and formations and the most diverse nationalities whom the whirlwinds of war had swept into the Tábor hospitals. They were now going back to the front to get new wounds, mutilations and pains and to earn the reward of a simple wooden cross over their graves. Years after on the mournful plains of East Galicia a faded Austrian soldier’s cap with a rusty Imperial badge would flutter over it in wind and rain. From time to time a miserable old carrion crow would perch on it, recalling fat feasts of bygone days when there used to be spread for him an unending table of human corpses and horse carcasses, when just under the cap on which he perched there lay the daintiest morsels of all—human eyes.

Just because someone claims to be anti-war in the novel doesn’t mean they exhibit higher morals. Some of Švejk’s fellow prisoners have committed atrocious crimes, trying to paint their transgression as noble since it was done for money instead of nationalism.


Bureaucracy and the incompetence of those implementing it
For the most part the bureaucrats/soldiers/etc. continue to try and ‘game’ the system to benefit themselves. The amount of paperwork sent their way can cause someone at any level to feel like they are being driven crazy. The lower rungs in the hierarchy respond by putting everything “into the report so that the people at the top are so foxed by it that their eyes boggle.” Several times bureaucracy is described as a storm, with this new force of nature disrupting and devastating everything in its path. Terror is often viewed as an essential application to the soldiers, the only effective means of achieving discipline. Those in charge, whether religious, civic or military, continue to be skewered. Chaplain Lacina’s portrayal of a gluttonous, drunken lout continues satirizing all things religious that began with Chaplain Katz.

Those who know the rules are usually those that fail to follow them. The volunteer who accompanies Švejk in the prison car can quote decrees, articles, and rules that apply to others while acting outside the rules that relate to him. Quartermaster Sergeant-Major Vaněk provides an example of an experienced soldier who knows how to deal with the bureaucracy—he doesn’t believe anything he is told. He knows the reality and practicality of how things really work and ignores the meaningless instructions that rain down on him from above. Švejk provides another example of how to deal with the chaos all around—he leaves the phone off the hook and sleeps, a fitting portrait of how everything swirls around him while remaining blisfully unaware.

The portrait of the divisional court illustrates Hašek’s attitude toward civil and religious authority in a few emblematic descriptions (see the Lada illustration at the top of this post):

A volume of the legal code lay before him [the judge], and a half-consumed glass of tea stood on top of it. On the table on the right stood a crucifix made out of imitation ivory with a dusty Christ, who looked despairingly at the pedestal of his cross, on which there were ashes and cigarette stubs.

To the renewed regret of the crucified Jesus Judge Advocate Ruller was at this very moment flicking the ash from another cigarette on to the pedestal of the crucifix. With his other hand he was raising the glass of tea, which had got stuck to the legal code.

What good are these institutions when the law is more useful as a coaster and religion is better used as an ash tray? In the next sentences we find the judge is more interested in pornography than in tending to his cases.

When Lieutenant Lukáš recounts the pathetic performance of his company during night operations/practice, the comedy of the bureaucracy is tempered because the reader is reminded of the stakes. The incompetent individuals and the unmanageable bureaucracy will get people killed. I don’t believe Hašek wished that soldiers were more competent or that they could be an effective and efficient killing force. Instead of offering solutions, Hašek points out that effectiveness and efficiency are impossible in a society structured this way. All it takes is a tomcat rearranging the flags and pins on a battlefield map to throw the entire army into confusion.


Stratification and lack of unity
Hašek shows the various ethnicities within the Austro-Hungarian Empire at each other’s throat. How are they to fight a common enemy when they are busy fighting among their own camps? Švejk’s friend Vodička seems to live for fighting other ethnic groups, regardless that they are on the same side. Despite newspaper accounts of the “unanimity reigning in the hearts of our peoples”, the reader sees little proof of that solidarity. Differences aren’t reserved for ethnic groups—witness Colonel Schröder’s comments and treatment of reserve officers and regulars or the “blood feud” existing between artillery men and the regimental patrols. Soldiers provide detailed examples of ‘fragging’ officers at the front.

The racial aspect, though, baffles me. What was Hašek doing with Švejk’s cross-breeding story at the start of Chapter Three? Just as bad is the quote from the volunteer (a fellow prisoner), “There’s a theory that raping girls of another nationality is the best recipe against degeneration.” My only guess lies with Hašek pointing out the lack of cohesion between the ethnic groups of the empire in addition to exhibiting the coarse composition of mankind.

The military camp at the staging area provides differences between officers and rank-and-file soldiers that you would expect, like soldiers shivering in their huts while officers swelter from overheating. There are unexpected (to me) distinctions as well, such as in the differing levels of ‘quality’ provided in transportable brothels. Švejk seemingly supports the stratification when referring to another batman as “it” or an orderly as a “thing”, recognizing that assistants to officers are objects and not regarded as human.


Attitudes and actions turn meaner
Some of the examples above hint toward this change of atmosphere, especially in the stratification topic. Whether driving superiors crazy or spoiling for a fight with those supposedly on your side, conflict is taken up a notch. Other actions are more subtle. Up to this point Švejk has (relatively) faithfully followed superior’s orders, but now there are some lapses that have enormous ramifications. Instead of delivering Lieutenant Lukáš’ love letter as directed, Švejk runs into Vodička and the soldiers get reacquainted. This delays the delivery of the letter until lunch when the husband of the targeted lady is at home. This is not a mistake the Švejk of Book One would have made.

Švejk shows one of his inconsistencies in telling his friend Vodička that he should always “say in court what isn’t true” although Švejk almost always tells the truth. It could be a lack of self-awareness, or more likely just a case of his inability to behave without guile even though he knows that is what others do. I don’t think he comprehends that telling the truth throws his superiors for a loop.

Vodička reacts with rage when he is acquitted of fighting with Hungarians, not because it means he will be sent to the front but because it diminishes his exploits. He exists to fight and it doesn’t matter to him who’s on the receiving end. Being a soldier does not channel Vodička's anger. He finds new targets to confront while travelling across his own country. His constant anger reflects the increased tone of confrontation demonstrated by many of the characters.

Instead of ending this post on anger, I'll relay the parting conversation between Vodička and Švejk. I'm not sure why I find it so funny, but I do...

Švejk and Vodička say goodbye
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

When Švejk said goodbye to Vodička and each of them was taken off to his unit he said: "When the war's over come and see me. You'll find me every evening from six o'clock onwards in the The Chalice at Na Bojišti." ...

"Very well, then, at six o'clock in the evening when the war's over!" shouted Vodička from below.

"Better if you come at half-past six, in case I should be held up somewhere," answered Švejk.

And then Vodička's voice could be heard again this time from a great distance: "Can't you come at six?"

"Very well then, I'll come at six," Vodička heard his retreating friend reply.

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: The Good Soldier Schweik (1956 movie)

Movie poster for The Good Soldier Schweik
Picture source

Since I just finished Book 2 and haven’t had a chance to write any thoughts about it, I’ll post a quick review of the 1956 Czech movie which is based on Book 1, “Behind the Lines”. The film faithfully follows Schweik’s misadventures in Hašek’s book, at least for the most part. Rudolf Hrusinsky as Schweik (the inconsistency in translating the name is unfortunate, but easy to adjust for) seemed to fit the role better as it progressed. Scenes sometimes looked like Josef Lada’s illustrations since several of the movie characters seemed cartoon-like, such as the plainclothes officer Bretschneider. The performance by the actor portraying Chaplain Otto Katz (Milos Kopecký) was far and away my favorite part of the movie.

Does the book translate well to film? The filmmakers definitely face a daunting task and, for the most part, they do a good job. Although at times something seems to get lost in the translation between media. Fortunately some scenes benefit from being seen instead of read. The drunken mannerisms of Chaplain Katz in the pulpit, for example, add quite a bit to his “sermon”. Since the setting is Prague, the biggest benefit of film is that we see many lovely shots of the city. Unfortunately some areas of the book are not included, such as Schweik’s earlier occupation as dog seller. Where the movie suffers worst in comparison with the book lies with the book’s ultimate targets, bureaucracy and what it does to people. The movie focuses mostly on Schweik’s bumbling adventures, which provide a large component of the book, yet Hašek uses these to develop his point. When this aspect comes through in the movie, such as the interview by the psychiatrists or the methods within the garrison prison (where the war’s success depends on the enemas given), the power of the book is mirrored.

Does the film stand by itself? (Can it be appreciated without reading the book?) For the most part it does / can. Viewers familiar with the book will probably enjoy the movie more, most importantly because the subtitles can fly by too fast to read at times. Some of the scenes and related dialogue are shortened for time constraints, such as the theft of Colonel Kraus’ dog. In addition, the number of Schweik’s anecdotes is reduced considerably. In the book, these anecdotes provide a cumulative effect in overwhelming the reader with the breadth of Schweik’s mind, both in the volume of his memory and how his mind connects disparate events. The depth of his mind, however, is rarely in question.

Links to film versions of Hašek’s book are listed at Švejk Central. I found the following quotes at the bottom of the page interesting:

"Parts such as Kaspar Hauser or the title character in Jaroslav Hašek’s The Good Soldier Švejk were projects [Peter] Lorre always spoke about -- [Charlie] Chaplin even offered to direct Švejk - but failed to ever realize." There are 17 pages with references to Švejk in Stephen Youngkin's book about Peter Lorre. The first nine are references to mentions of Švejk in the text of the book; the last eight are references to other sources mentioning Švejk. You might find the excerpts posted on amazon.com quite interesting.

In trying to picture what English-speaking actor could have played Švejk, Peter Lorre wasn't one of the first that came to mind but the more I think about it the more I like it. I would love to see what the Chaplain/Lorre collaboration could have produced. Yes, it’s a useless game but still fun to play. The only living English-speaking actor that comes to mind for the title role is Bob Hoskins (who would have had to play the part at least 20 years ago), but I’m always willing to entertain other suggestions. Since this release is easily available through rental at major sites (like Netflix), I thought it worth the time and effort to review and recommend it.

The Good Soldier Švejk discussion: Book One “Behind the Lines”

Švejk goes to the war
Illustration by Josef Lada
Picture source

Those who boggle at strong language are cowards, because it is real life which is shocking them, and weaklings like that are the very people who cause most harm to culture and character. They would like to see the nation grow up into a group of over-sensitive little people—masturbators of false culture of the type of St Aloysius, of whom it iw said in the book of the monk Eustachius that when he heard a man breaking wind with deafening noise he immediate burst into tears and could only be consoled by prayers.

People like that proclaim their indignation in public but take unusual pleasure in going to public lavatories to read obscene inscriptions on the walls.

In using a few strong expressions in my book I have done nothing more than affirm en passant how people actually talk.

We cannot expect the inn-keeper palivec to speak with the same refinement as Mrs Laudová, Doctor Gurth, Mrs olga Fastrová [ed. note—people of Hašek’s time who wrote on morals and behavior] and a whole series of others who would like to turn the whole Czechoslovak Republic into a big salon with parquet flooring, where people go about in tail-coats, white ties and gloves, speak in choice phrases and cultivate the refined behaviour of the drawing-room. But beneath this camouflage these drawing-room lions indulge in the worst vices and excesses.

…

I do not know whether I shall succeed in achieving my purpose with this book. The fact that I have already heard one man swear at another and say ‘You’re about as big an idiot as Švejk’ does not prove that I have. But if the word ‘Švejk’ becomes a new choice specimen in the already florid garland of abuse I must be content with this enrichment of the Czech language.

— From the Epilogue to Part One, “Behind the Lines”

As evidenced by the quote Hašek thinks everyone is worth hearing, even (or maybe especially) a simpleton like Švejk. The “wise fool” device has been used many times, yet Hašek throws in some twists which maintain freshness in this work. I will link Ian Johnston’s lecture on The Good Soldier Švejk again since it covers the book so well. All I can do is add a few points (and I’m sure some will be repetitive) on my reaction to the work.

Book One introduces us to Švejk (pronounced Shvayk) and the world he inhabits. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria has just been assassinated and World War I unfolds around Švejk, “who had left military service years before, after having been finally certified by an army medical board as an imbecile…“. In this section, Švejk is called up again into the army, imprisoned and examined, becomes personal assistant to an army chaplain, is lost in a game of cards to a lieutenant, and causes the lieutenant to be sent to the front.

We rarely get a glimpse inside Švejk’s mind during Hašek’s narration—at times Švejk can be an indefinite entity to the reader. In his asides, Hašek can be screechy at times, especially regarding religion (more on that later), but they can also provide information and help move the story along. His discussion on dogs and dog-thieves (Chapter 14, Section vi), for example, sets up the next part of the story. The narrator almost always treats Švejk with tenderness, commenting on his sweetness and charm.

Švejk is a wonderful creation. He does not develop or expand his limited self-awareness. He isn’t always consistent. Is he really a imbecile? He readily admits he is a half-wit, yet his perceptions often cut through to the heart of a matter. Although he constantly frames events through past experiences or anecdotes, his comments usually have nothing to do with the action or surreptitiously insult those around him. He claims to be honest but his dog business is a fraud (although he feels he couldn’t profit from it because he was so honest).

As an Everyman, Švejk can be seen as an ordinary (or below ordinary) person in extraordinary times. He claims he wants to do good. “I always want to put something right, to do good, but nothing ever comes out of it except trouble for me and all around.” Unfortunately this is the limit of his self-awareness. In wanting to do good, he rarely does anything of his own initiative—he is always following orders. Doing exactly as he is told, however, causes much of the trouble. He responds to commands with enthusiasm (which is usually questioned) and, if given any leeway in performing a duty, will choose an approach that only makes sense to his addled mind. I think it becomes clear to the reader that Švejk really is the half-wit he claims to be (see the comments for some reconsideration), but his actions highlight the absurdities that go on around him. Early in this section he is examined again by army doctors, but their psychiatric tests strike even Švejk as “even stupider nonsense.” Švejk occasionally utters insights that are a little too sane for those around him: “Except for my legs I’m completely sound cannon-fodder.”

The target of Hašek is not just the war, but bureaucracy in all areas of life that controls us. The nameless, faceless bureaucrats are given names and faces in this book so they can be mocked. In Švejk's world no one questions the system, instead blindly following orders to survive. Figuring out how to rig the system for personal benefit usually represents the only initiative shown. Švejk becomes the wrench in the bureaucratic system in several ways. First, he always cheerfully follows orders, much to the chagrin of the issuers—they do not know how to react to a lack of resistance except to question his motives. Second, he follows the orders as close as possible. Because a catastrophe usually follows his adherence, the system is shown to be flawed when operating as claimed. Third, Švejk continually distracts those around him. His assumptions may be incorrect (leading his escorts to get falling-down drunk since they believe Švejk is to be hanged) or he may be literally following orders (raising money for the chaplain by saying “whatever you like”, so Švejk says the chaplain had knocked up a fifteen year-old girl). Those around Švejk have to adjust for his presence, creating extra work just to avoid unpleasant outcomes.

Hašek’s view is that any bureaucratic system, whether government, religion or military, takes over the life of all that participates in it. While education is presented as an antidote, it is a partial one at best. Any system set up in this manner allows others to control your life regardless of their competence. Hašek highlights the arbitrary nature of the justice system under such bureaucrats, but examples of randomness are shown in every other sanctioned system. Being in these systems reduces people to passive, non-caring individuals whose actions are guided solely by trying not to make a mistake. Each system absolves the individual of personal responsibility, reducing them to reactive creatures (at least according to Hašek). Offices that used to hold great power and great responsibility now perform cruel and arbitrary acts in order to mask their current impotence, ignoring the 'responsibility' part of the equation. “[P]etty thieves … were a thousand times more honest than the blackguards who sent them there [jail].”

The absurdity of modern life under such bureaucracies takes on greater significance during The Great War, where military leaders fail to recognize or adapt their tactics to adjust for new realities, while half-wits like Švejk recognize that their only purpose is to be cannon-fodder. (Side-note: I am halfway through the book and there has only been one instance of action at the front relayed—it will be interesting to see if and how the front will be portrayed). Hašek holds the military in special disregard because the discipline imposed masks a lack of reason--you do what is asked solely to keep from bigger problems. Švejk blindly follows orders because he is an imbecile, frustrating his superiors who expect resistance. Since a system cannot anticipate every outcome and bureaucrats are stripped of the ability to reason, anarchy ensues when something out of the ordinary occurs. Freedom is mentioned often but is only an illusion, while those that seek it are automatically suspect. There are many instances, but I’ll provide two short quotes that encapulate Hašek’s attitude (and yes, they may appear completely out of the blue out of context):

“[P]olice headquarters presented the finest collection of bureaucratical beasts of prey, to whom gaols and gallows were the only means of defending the existence of the twisted clauses of the law.”

“Try hard to think that Austria rests on these enemas and victory is ours.”

In a world where statements like these make sense, absurdity has triumphed. Higher principles are laughed at—all that matters to everyone is what is in it for them. If it has the potential to control your life, Hašek is against it, which includes religion. Otto Katz, the chaplain at the garrison gaol, drinks heavily, whores around, gambles, makes up prayers and invents Masses. Originally Jewish, his current position is viewed as a business transaction. “His sermons were of an abstract character with no connection whatsoever with life today” (much like the entire bureaucratic structures). The narrator shifts his tone at the start of Chapter 11, launching a diatribe against organized religion. Yet Hašek is more successful in playful descriptions and soft pokes, such as when a sports cup is used in place of a chalice, hempseed oil is substituted for sacramental oil or Boccaccio’s Decameron fills the purpose of a breviary. Individuals that seem to care about the soldier’s souls are painted as hysterics. Services become elaborate pantomimes void of meaning:

“The service and sermons were a marvelous thrill in the boredom of the garrison gaol. It was not a question of getting nearer to God, but of the hope of finding on the way in the corridor or in the courtyard a fag-end or a cigar-end. A little fag-end, lying about hopelessly in a spittoon or somewhere in the dust on the floor, stole the show and God was nowhere. That little stinking object triumphed over God and the salvation of the soul.”

The ultimate question from Hašek, unasked but seemingly implied, is where could God reside in such a world? And how is man to act in such a world? Does the half-wit Švejk hold the philosophical key? “Maul halten und weiter dienen! (“Grin and bear it and get on with the job!) That’s the best and finest thing of all.” Švejk proclaims variations of this throughout—“We muddle along as we can.” Hašek is not implying any answer to those questions yet, content with mocking everything. Let's see where he takes us through the rest of the book...

"World's full of damned readers"

Picture source

The UPS guy must think I have a crush on him...I couldn't stop smiling as I signed for today's delivery at work. I splurged and bought the new release of In the First Circle by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. The Wall Street Journal has a review of this restored version as well as the first chapter.

I'm transported back to when I used to visit the library pictured above, which was within walking distance of our house. In junior high and high school I devoured everything they had by or about Solzhenitsyn. I know I only understood a small fraction of his writing, but there was something about the time (and me at the time, I guess) that responded to his writing. This looks like a good starting point to get reacquainted.

"Who's reading Gorky?" he asked in a menacing bass.

"I am!"

"What the hell for?"

"What else is there to read?"

"You'd be better off in the shithouse, communing with your soul. World's full of damned readers, damned humanists--dirty bums, the lot of you."

But the bestest books

...can make you laugh and cry at the same time. Presented without further commentary.

The Good Soldier Švejk online resources

Illustration by Josef Lada from The Good Soldier Švejk
Picture source

Several recent nonfiction reads have included quite a bit on World War I and The Good Soldier Švejk by Jaroslav Hašek (my keyboard mojo is going to be sorely tested with this book) was mentioned. As I posted recently, Barbara Tuchman’s The Guns of August outlined the prelude and first month of World War I as well as set the stage for the war. I did not go into great detail about one of Tuchman’s themes in A Distant Mirror, which is in the title—the tumultuous times in the 14th century provides a reflection of our modern times. From the Forward:

If our last decade or two of collapsing assumptions has been a period of unusual discomfort, it is reassuring to know that the human species has lived through worse before. Curiously, the “phenomenal parallels” have been applied to another historian to earlier years of this century [the 20th]. Comparing the aftermaths of the Black Death and of World War I, James Westfall Thompson found all the same complaints: economic chaos, social unrest, high prices, profiteering, depraved morals, lack of production, industrial indolence, frenetic gaiety, wild expenditure, luxury, debauchery, social and religious hysteria, greed, avarice, maladministration, decay of manners.

Not to mention everything that occurred during the war. But how to respond to the death, destruction, and everything else Thompson lists? If you are Jaroslav Hašek, you reach back to a previously created character and satirize the times and what they created. Humor isn’t unprecedented in such a case—in looking at Thompson’s comparison, Chaucer immediately springs to mind. Yet Hašek’s targets, while far-ranging at times, tend to eventually center on various aspects of mind-numbing bureaucracy, whether in the military or government. There was a surprising number (to me) of sites dedicated to the author and the work. Here are a few I found interesting:

Jaroslav Hašek

The more I find out about Hašek the more I like him (but only at a safe distance). From the introduction of the Penguin Classics version (translation and introduction by Cecil Parrott), this event takes place just after World War I commenced:

He decided to fool the authorities by taking a room at U Valšů, which was notorious for being half-hotel and half-brothel, and registering himself there as a Russian. The name he wrote in the visitor’s book sounded Russian enough, but when read backwards in Czech it became ‘Kiss my arse.’ When required to state what he was doing in Prague he wrote that he was looking into the activities of the Austrian general staff. At the time war fever was at its height and the police were at once alerted and the hotel surrounded. They thought they had caught an important spy and were disappointed and embarrassed when they found that it none other than the by now notorious Hašek. Asked why he had done it Hašek replied in all innocence that he had wanted to assure himself that the Austrian police were operating effectively. He got off lightly with only five days’ imprisonment.

Švejk Central, includes a wealth of links and information regarding Hašek and the book

The Wikipedia entry on Hašek

Hašek’s entry at Books and Writers

An article at cultcargo.net: “Jaroslav Hašek - The Bad Bohemian”
“Life is no finishing school for young ladies.”

A Bohemian’s Tale by Andrew Parker, covering Hašek and the book

Švejk: A Hero For Our Time by Zenny K. Sadlon, “a few observations that Mike [Joyce] and I have made in the process of producing the new translation of Jaroslav Hašek's masterpiece of world literature.”



The Good Soldier Švejk

Ian Johnston’s lecture on The Good Soldier Švejk

John H. Lienhard has a brief article about the devastation that obediently following orders can cause

Dr Jan Culik’s article on the book and its intertwining with Hašek’s life

Wikipedia’s entry on the novel, including a couple of illustrations by Josef Lada

A good collection of Josef Lada’s color illustrations"

Švejk has his own Facebook page

Švejk restaurant (apparently one of many)
Photo at The Dan Hood Bookshelf

The Restlessness of Shanti Andía discussion

Sketches by Pío Baroja
(Characters from The Restlessness of Shanti Andía)

At sea I lost the notion of time. Aboard ship the days are long, and yet the years, sum of the days, are short, and they fly by and are gone. Time has sped for me. The thought of the past, once youth has been left behind, is like a wound in the soul, a wound which flows continually and floods one with sadness. The enter route traversed seems like an Appian Way sown with tombs. … I do not know why it is that the past is flooded with a magical melancholy—it is hard to understand why it should be. One recalls clearly that one was not happy in those days, that one was possessed by restlessness and sorrows, and nevertheless, one has the impression that the sun then shone brighter and that the blue of the sky was purer and more splendid.

- from Book 3, Chapter 1 of The Restlessness of Shanti Andía


From John Dos Passos: “Nothing that Baroja has written since is quite on the same level. … Las Inquietudes de Shanti Andía (The Anxieties of Shanti Andía), a story of Basque seamen which contains a charming picture of a childhood in a seaside village in Guipuzcoa, delightful as it is to read, is too muddled in romantic claptrap to add much to his fame.”

The first three books are enchanted. Baroja’s “wounds” are on display, the magical melancholy making it easy for a reader to recall his own wounds. Fortunately the author is correct, not just for himself but for me as well—distance makes everything seem brighter and sunnier than it felt at the time. Baroja paints a picture of the Basque coast that sticks with me, from the sound of the women (whose screeches mimic the seagulls) to the lure and danger of the ocean. Little happens in this section, or rather little action is detailed. The languid descriptions of his hometown and the characters found there, each unique but all sharing an “off” quality, provide the “charming picture” that John Dos Passos noted. There are few characters well off in this seaside town. Most work hard to survive while others laze about, choosing to barely exist but on their own terms. While this section follows Santiago de Andía (Shanti) until he is twenty-eight years old, it isn’t a coming-of-age story as much as an exploration into the places and events that shaped who he is.

The remaining books, four through seven, follow the exploits of Shanti’s uncle, Juan de Aguirre. The quote from TIME in the resources post covers the elements: “There is a duel, a mutiny, piracy, the slave trade, an escape from prison, changed identities, a kidnapping, even buried treasure.” I didn’t see it as “romantic claptrap” as John Dos Passos described it. This section felt like a Walter Scott story, several of which are specifically mentioned in these chapters. The mystery of his uncle unfolds, second-hand initially and then in the form of a memoir, providing a “happily ever after” ending. While the storyline is fun to follow, the details of life at sea—life on a slave ship in particular—were fascinating.

A quick note: I’m struck by the number of family ties involving lovers in Spanish literature from the late-19th/early-20th century that I’ve happened to read recently. Shanti falls in love with his first cousin Mary. Galdos’ Fortunata and Jacinta have cousins marrying as well. And then there is the “are they or are they not siblings” question running through Eça de Queirós’ The Maias. I’m assuming it’s just the luck of the draw in what I’ve chosen to read since it isn’t an uncommon theme, but still it seems a little strange that such a high percentage of what I’ve picked has this device in it.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first half of the book and it has me wanting to read more of Baroja’s work. Unfortunately English translations of his highly regarded works are hard to come by. It looks like I’ll be exploring some of a nearby university’s library policy for non-students.

Some online resources for the book, as well as Baroja, can be found here.