Citoyenne la traductrice jacobine

I should really be working. I have two articles to read by tomorrow and then two essays and three exams for next week. But I cannot concentrate. Every time I start to work on one thing, I just keep thinking about all the other things I have to do. It doesn't help that my weekend is entirely full and our reading period here at Oberlin is a single day (Monday, in this case). >.>;

Still, I wanted to post just to say that one of my essays in on music during the Revolution, which makes me exceedingly happy, despite everything I have to do. It's going to be base on the last part of my presentation on 18th century French music, concerning which: I was rather surprised and gratified to see that not only did the prof like my presentation, about five or six of my fellow students (out of a class of fourteen) came up to be afterwords and congratulated me, the typical comment going something like this, "You did a great job; your presentation was really interesting and the music you played was beautiful." I think the music can probably take more credit for that than me, but still, it's nice to see I'm not the only one who finds this stuff interesting.

And speaking of music, you, maelicia, will certainly not be surprised - though, I predict, rather disturbed - to learn that in "La Pernette," an ancestor to "Ne pleure pas, Jeannette," apparently,

Selon les régions et les époques , le héros changea, les gens de l'ouest en firent par exemple un chouan
("The hero (which is to say Pierre) changed according to region and era; the people of the west, for example, made him into a Chouan").

*headdesk*

...And now back to Bernier's letter to Colbert. >.>;

Now that I've cooled down a bit, I can give a bit more detail about the reenactment:

First we were lined up against a wall by the National Guard for no apparent reason.

Then we were led into a "cafe"--really a place with clusters of tables and chairs where the walls were lined with stalls. Vendors were selling bread, "wine" (it was really grape juice), pastry (one wonders how they got any pastry, considering the lack of both flour and sugar), and flowers for bits of colored paper meant to serve as money (not referred to as assignats, but I assume that was the general idea).

We were told that there was to be a confrontation between the "Jacobins" and the "Girondists" (whatever happened to Montagnards and Girondins?). And indeed, we were treated to a display of a deformed, hideous, and snarling Robespierre and Marat seated at a table next to a dignified, handsome, well-dressed pair of "Girondists" (one of them, we were told was Brissot; the other, a woman, was unnamed) and arguing among themselves over the necessity for the creation of a Committee of Public Safety. The "Girondists" of course, were properly horrified, while Marat growled and Robespierre made properly evil gestures.

Then broadsheets were passed around; the king, we were told, has just been executed. A severed head of rubber was subsequently brought in on the end of a pike and girl placed a top hat (a top hat?) on it in saying, "I crown your majesty."

Immediately following this, a girl was caught stealing a loaf of bread and we learned the tragic story of how she had conceived a child out of wedlock, her had lover left her, she had been left to raise the child on her own, and now her evil!sans-culotte father was preventing them from having enough food (?).

Then, Charlotte Corday came, introduced herself to Marat, and informed him she had a list of the names of "Girondist" leaders (keeping in mind that this is in an indoor market/cafe). Undertaker!Robespierre (long black pants and all) excused himself; the "Girondists" stayed for some reason. Corday gives Marat the list (of completely made-up pseudo-French names); he read it and assured her they will all be guillotined; then, with a cry of "so it's true: you are a butcher! Those names were false!" she took out a small plastic pistol (yes, you read that right) and shot him.

From there we were somewhat roughly led next door to the "Tribunal" (three girls dressed in the fashion of the early 18th century behind a table, surrounded by wooden benches and a chair for the accused). Charlotte Corday of course, gave a brave and dignified defense of her actions to the bloodthirsty!mob (who seemed to be playing a game of musical chairs; they kept moving in circles around the room and shoving people from their seats). Robespierre stood near the front, looking sinister, of course (for some reason he was not wearing a wig; he had his hair parted and slicked back). By this time he was being referred to as "chairman" of the Committee of Public Safety (maybe he made the transformation en route to the Tribunal?).

Some audience members were pulled to the front; accused of being her accomplices, they were asked to prove their patriotism by their ability to do the "national dance" (the Carmagnole?), recite the "national motto" (liberty, equality, fraternity), and name the national bird (?). Naturally none of them knew, and all the suspects (including Corday of course) were led outside and loaded into a tumbrel.

We followed the tumbrel, of course, to a guillotine set up outside. It was dark outside and there was a red light on behind it. Charlotte Corday was forced to mount the scaffold and started to give a speech; their Robespierre (who naturally had to be at the execution) interrupted her with rhetoric intended to make him look like evil incarnate--not that the costume needed any help with that. Then a man in black robes (Sanson =/= the Grim Reaper, damn-it!) dropped the mechanism serving as a guillotine on her and she could no longer be seen (I'm not entirely sure how it worked).

The next part happened rather quickly, but I remember their Robespierre started to give another speech, the suspects tried to escape, and then a shot rang out (I think it was the National Guard, but I don't quite recall); you'll remember the young mother from earlier? It was, of course, her child who was shot. As she lay with her child in her lap, sobbing, the "Girondist" woman admonished everyone for their blood-thirst (along the lines of "look what you've done") and informed us that this was not the Revolution they had fought for (how ironically true).

As the girl continued to weep over the dead child, their Robespierre had a rope fastened across the area around the guillotine; whoever was with him, he told us, would stay on one side; those with the "Girondists" would go to the other. After we had split into two camps (some of the actors warning us that if we stood with the "Girondists" we would be killed), undertaker!Robespierre led those of us (the majority) who had stayed on his side away; in parting he ordered a National Guardsman to shoot them. The Guard, quite naturally, said, "what?" Evil!Robespierre replied with the oh-so-original line, "did I stutter?" and led us away, some of the actors warning us not to look back. We heard gunfire behind us, and the reenactment was (mercifully!) over.

...

Just to vaguely assess the dates:

21 January, 1793: Louis Capet is executed.

2 June, 1793: The Girondins are arrested.

13 July, 1793: Marat is assassinated.

27 July, 1793: Robespierre joins the Committee of Public Safety.

We have problems, oh yes; we do.

...Why do I even try?

Poor Maxime.

I feel this is something, however briefly, I have to do. I am sick of the argument that Robespierre was the predecessor of various 20th century dictators. I believe this charge to be not only unfounded, but unreasonable to any thinking person.

One support of this argument I find to be the most distasteful is that he and and the leaders of 20th century revolutions were both idealistic. I beg to differ! Robespierre may have had something of the idealist in him, but the leaders, at least, of 20th century revolutions were opportunistic and had a goal of dictatorship from the beginning, committing atrocities in the name of ideals they had duped the populace into believing in but clearly did not believe in themselves. Robespierre had no intention of ever being a dictator (and never became one, either!), and indeed when acting on 9 Thermidor would have usurped the power of the Convention, he could not do it.

Robespierre did not anticipate the necessity of the Terror, and did not, as it is often proposed wish to promote it indefinitely. It was not an issue involving a grab for power, but a measure taken to prevent others from abusing it. The Girondins were the cause of the war, exacerbated the civil war, and gave the first blow of the Terror. Are they therefore blameless? Is it therefore Robespierre's fault that the Montagne had to win the war the Girondins had no idea how to fight and prevent internal enemies from murdering the nascent Republic?

And how do these circumstances have anything in common with those of later 20th century revolutions? Do these revolutions even have a figure comparable to Robespierre? Not at all. But they had a precedent in the French Revolution--and the opportunity to learn from its mistakes. They chose not to take these lessons, and that makes their actions reprehensible. Who could claim similarly that Robespierre and his fellow-revolutionaries could have anticipated the 20th century? That they even shared common principles with these later revolutionaries? It is ludicrous to place the blame for actions taking place in the 20th century on the people of the 18th. These 20th century revolutionaries may have adopted Robespierre as their emblem, but is that proof that he would have liked them? From what I can tell his principles were vastly different from theirs. When are those who accuse Robespierre going to realize that so-called "Jacobinism" does not equal Bolshevism?

Oh, and one more thing:

Do those who accuse him of paranoia about plots realize that it was a plot which felled him?

--S

Ahem.

There seems to be an odd proliferation of things to do with L'Autrichienne lately, but the French-English collaboration documentary (while it will obviously have a bias), should prove better than the Marie-Antoinette movie. (At least it covers the Revolution.) There's also a British documentary, but I don't know too much about that one (except it will be for L'Austrichienne, obviously).

They keep talking about how Marie-Antoinette has been mistreated by history! Sure, feel sorry for the rich queen. Why can't they make a pro-Maxime documentary or movie is what I want to know. They've managed to do it in print, why can't they do it in movies. (Although there is one notable exception--the French tv production from the 60s--you'd think they could make something a little bit more current and mainstream though.)

Sorry for the rant, but I had to post it someplace.

Additionally: three guesses as to my Halloween costume.

And: I need a better outlet! I need to finish my novel! I need to do my homework! *cries*

But: I did download some Simon and Garfunkel onto my iTunes, so life isn't complete crap.

What am I doing for Halloween?

I have no beauty, talent, intelligence. But the first is easily dispensed with,and the second and third, those who know me might argue with. Let me better explain: I have aspirations to greatness, but find in my own soul, greatness is lacking. Among my peers, who, mired in bourgeois, twenty-first century American comfort, live in contented ignorance, I may seem "smart." But one can do well nowadays without talent; as long as one does not have a learning disability, effort is enough to sail with the best--In school at least.

After school, even effort is not praised as a virtue. America is about money. The monied are the American aristocracy. It has been said before, and better than my untrained ramblings can provide, but perhaps I can offer my own insight without giving offense to those more talented than I?

The poor no longer starve here. Instead they are fed on a cheap and greasy sustenance of not only food, but entertainment. Why should they revolt? They have rights; so they are told; and freedom. The people would not rise in revolution.

So perhaps I am the ony one who longs for it. Revolution. Such a perfect word--though the concept is imperfect. I want a revolution like the French Revolution. Those men who raised passionate voices and put quills to paper so their society could be free! These men were educated, brilliant. You had to be able to quote the great writers and philosophers of past ages to make it on the political stage. Today the only requirement is to look good on TV.

The people then were just as poor and uneducated as they are today, but they understood that their leaders should not be. To lead a country it is important, above all things, to be educated--not even in the modern sense of the word. A leader should have genius. A degree is not enough. A leader should also want the best for their people and for the world.

One might argue that I am too must of an idealist. It is quite possibly so. But is there truly any other way to be? If I have no talent for poetry or prose, or oratorium, let me at least cling to my ideals. What else is worth living for.

My unplanned writing is a miserable exercise as far as organisation is concerned. But so inspired, one must rant and leave correction and modification to a different date. A cry to revolution is a beginning, but it still is not enough.

My long dreamed for revolution is inevitably doomed, hypocritical. We have no king, every citizen has the right to a vote. The fault then lies in the people. But this is the cardinal sin; the people are everywhere good. They can have no fault. And yet the people's will has turned to madness.

--Suzanne