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maeve66Not that that's amazing or anything, but the historical link below is. It's probably obvious that I tend to prefer political figures -- icons of my own admiration, in fact -- as user icons for this journal. And one of my recent favorites is Louise Michel, partly because she's a heroine of the Paris Commune and partly because she was a single independent woman her whole life, and a public school teacher -- even in exile in Kanaky. Projection and identification, much?
Anyway... when I was growing up, I got Louise Michel confused with THIS woman, the one in my current icon, who was an auxiliary member of the Commune Defense squads, if I'm reading her beret right. She's called a "Pointeuse" in the album that holds her carte de visite, and her name is either Marie-Christine or Christine Dargent.
I've been looking for an image of this cigar-smokin', beret wearin', military-belted female for years. I had it on a huge poster, where it was superimposed on a tricolor flag, in my bedroom, growing up. That poster was the show poster for the premiere exhibit of a whole collection of photo albums from the Paris Commune, held by the Northwestern University Special Collections Library, which has a specialty in women's history. Many of the cartes de visites, or small studio portraits taken to exchange and collect, just like the ones from the American Civil War, are portraits of women. They're labelled variously: femme de, pointeuse, cantinière, and incendière. Often the women are wearing the same costume; I noted about four or five different "looks" that were identical, but worn by different women. Most of the women have a set expression that looks pissed off and stressed out. I know all the arguments about early photography and having to sit still, and how that leads to the common clenching of the jaw. These women... it's more. It's more a kind of deep anger, I think, and resolution, and knowledge that their revolution is going to fail. It only lasted two months, about.
The Commune fell on my birthday (honestly, I have nothing but bummer anniversaries linked to my date of birth), May 21, 1871. And as most folks who read my journal from time to time know, the repression was vicious and extensive. Estimates of the dead, in the immediate term, and executed later, stay in the 80,000 range. Sacré Coeur, that beautiful lacy church in Montmartre, was built to expiate the sins of the Communards. I've never been able to enjoy how gorgeous it is, because of its purpose.
Here's a quote from the Jean Ferrat song about the Commune, written one hundred years later in 1971:
I have no idea who Potier or Clément were. And I'm sure some of the translation sucks. Still
Anyway. Clicky click on the link -- go look at the faces of desperate revolutionary citizens. It's cool.
Anyway... when I was growing up, I got Louise Michel confused with THIS woman, the one in my current icon, who was an auxiliary member of the Commune Defense squads, if I'm reading her beret right. She's called a "Pointeuse" in the album that holds her carte de visite, and her name is either Marie-Christine or Christine Dargent.
I've been looking for an image of this cigar-smokin', beret wearin', military-belted female for years. I had it on a huge poster, where it was superimposed on a tricolor flag, in my bedroom, growing up. That poster was the show poster for the premiere exhibit of a whole collection of photo albums from the Paris Commune, held by the Northwestern University Special Collections Library, which has a specialty in women's history. Many of the cartes de visites, or small studio portraits taken to exchange and collect, just like the ones from the American Civil War, are portraits of women. They're labelled variously: femme de, pointeuse, cantinière, and incendière. Often the women are wearing the same costume; I noted about four or five different "looks" that were identical, but worn by different women. Most of the women have a set expression that looks pissed off and stressed out. I know all the arguments about early photography and having to sit still, and how that leads to the common clenching of the jaw. These women... it's more. It's more a kind of deep anger, I think, and resolution, and knowledge that their revolution is going to fail. It only lasted two months, about.
The Commune fell on my birthday (honestly, I have nothing but bummer anniversaries linked to my date of birth), May 21, 1871. And as most folks who read my journal from time to time know, the repression was vicious and extensive. Estimates of the dead, in the immediate term, and executed later, stay in the 80,000 range. Sacré Coeur, that beautiful lacy church in Montmartre, was built to expiate the sins of the Communards. I've never been able to enjoy how gorgeous it is, because of its purpose.
Here's a quote from the Jean Ferrat song about the Commune, written one hundred years later in 1971:
Il y a cent ans commun commune
Comme artisans et ouvriers
Ils se battaient pour la Commune
En écoutant chanter Potier
Il y a cent ans commun commune
Comme ouvriers et artisans
Ils se battaient pour la Commune
En écoutant chanter Clément
Devenus des soldats
Aux consciences civiles
C'étaient des fédérés
Qui plantaient un drapeau
Disputant l'avenir
Aux pavés de la ville
C'étaient des forgerons
Devenus des héros
About a hundred years ago
there was a city
With craftsmen and workers
Who fought for the Commune
While listening to Potier
About a hundred years ago
there was a city
With craftsmen and workers
Who fought for the Commune
While listening to Clément
They became soldiers
with social conscience
They were citizens
who planted the red flag
Fighting for the future
in the city streets
They were blacksmiths
who became heros
I have no idea who Potier or Clément were. And I'm sure some of the translation sucks. Still
Anyway. Clicky click on the link -- go look at the faces of desperate revolutionary citizens. It's cool.
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-28 10:02 am (UTC)The church is full of security guard who frequently yell for everybody to quiet down. Often, the only noise is their constant yelling. It's a perfect little symbol right there, the guards yelling at each other, yelling at nothing.
In other french revolution related news, the new movie about Marie Antoinette is AUFUL. skip it.
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Date: 2006-05-28 04:54 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-05-29 01:23 am (UTC)what was I going to say here?
Date: 2006-06-01 06:18 pm (UTC)oh, it was joyously, ridiculously awful.
http://libretto.musicals.ru/text.php?textid=364&language=1
Date: 2006-06-01 06:25 pm (UTC)Louis said I mustn't lose my head.
And the people haven't any bread;
I say let 'em all eat cake.
Louis says that kind of attitude
Could be a grave mistake.
and a bonus shout-out:
Trendy trav'lers tend to talk
Of London, Paris, Rome, New York,
Like only they were stylish and unique.
But out in the Midwest
Is the city I love the best:
A town so smart it's spelling stars
With: C - H - I - C...Chic!
Chicago, Illinois, is like a shiny toy.
The prairie State is proud to state
That it's its pride and joy.
The Windy City sweeps ya clean off ya feet;
POW!
Its charm is complete;
POW!
They're knockin' ya flat, this way or that
On ev'ry downtown street.
POW!
The White Sox and the Cubs
And other sporting clubs
Make living here a pretty nifty ploy.
Smack on the lake, this is the report!
Someday, they say, we'll have an airport!
When they say: "hey, I'm from Chi!",
They mean Chicago, Il-li-nois!