Showing posts with label the red scare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the red scare. Show all posts

Friday, October 25, 2019

The Centennial Of Pete Seeger’s Birthday (1919-2014)- Happy Birthday Woody Guthire -Once More Into The Time Capsule, Part One-The New York Folk Revival Scene in the Early 1960’s-The Weavers

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Pete Seeger and The Weavers singing the classic labor anthem, "Solidarity Forever"...would that it were so.

CD Review

Washington Square Memoirs: The Great Urban Folk Revival Boom, 1950-1970, various artists, 3CD set, Rhino Records, 2001




"Except for the reference to the origins of the talent brought to the city the same comments apply for this CD. Rather than repeat information that is readily available in the booklet and on the discs I’ll finish up here with some recommendations of songs that I believe that you should be sure to listen to:

Disc One; Woody Guthrie on “Hard Travelin’”, Big Bill Broonzy on “Black , Brown And White”, Jean Ritchie on “Nottamun Town”, Josh White on “One Meat Ball” Malvina Reynolds on “Little Boxes”, Cisco Houston on “Midnight Special”, The Weavers on “Wasn’t That A Time”, Glenn Yarborough on “Spanish Is A Loving Tongue”, Odetta on “I’ve Been Driving On Bald Mountain”, The New Lost City Ramblers on “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”, Bob Gibson and Bob Camp on “Betty And Dupree”, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott on “San Francisco Bay Blues”, Peggy Seeger on “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”, Hoyt Axton on “Greenback Dollar” and Carolyn Hester on “Turn And Swing Jubilee”."


The Weavers on “Wasn’t That A Time”. Yes, the Weavers suffered a ton of controversy for the alleged Communist Party affiliations of some members during the hard days of the “red scare” Cold War 1950s in America. However, later communists have no problem celebrating in song some of the events that are contained n the lyrics to this song and that got some “sunshine” patriots upset back in those days. “Wasn’t That A Time”, Indeed.



Lyrics to "Wasn't That A Time" :

Our fathers bled at Valley Forge.
The snow was red with blood,
Their faith was warm at Valley Forge,
Their faith was brotherhood.

[Chorus:]
Wasn't that a time, wasn't that a time,
A time to try the soul of man,
Wasn't that a terrible time?

Brave men who died at Gettysburg
Now lie in soldier's graves,
But there they stemmed the slavery tide,
And there the faith was saved.

[Chorus]

The fascists came with chains and war
To prison us in hate.
And many a good man fought and died
To save the stricken faith.

[Chorus]

And now again the madmen come,
And should our vic'try fail?
There is no vic'try in a land
Where free men go to jail.

Isn't this a time!
Isn't this a time!
A time to try the soul of man,
Isn't this a terrible time?

Our faith cries out we have no fear
We dare to reach our hand
To other neighbors far and near
To friends in every land.

Isn't this a time!
Isn't this a time!
A time to free the soul of man!
Isn't this a wonderful time!

[Two additional verses written by Lee Hays and sung at the 1980 Weavers reunion:]

How many times we've gone to kill
In freedom's holy name.
And children died to save the pride
Of rulers without shame.

Informers took their Judas pay
To tell their sorry tale
And gangs in Congress had their way
And free souls went to jail

Saturday, February 09, 2019

Once Again On Frederick Douglas-Happy 200th Birthday Brother We Have Not Forgotten You Or Brother John Brown Either- A New Biography-For Frederick Douglass On His 200th Birthday- *Free And Equal Blues-The Work Of Josh White

Once Again On Frederick Douglas-Happy 200th Birthday Brother We Have Not Forgotten You Or Brother John Brown Either

In this 200th birthday year of Frederick Douglas the revolutionary abolitionist and women’s rights advocate we have been graced with radio programs dedicated to his outstanding career. A new biography by Douglas Blight with many insights into this brilliant orator, lecturer, advocate and activist against grim slavery for himself and his people has been highlighted on several talk shows. Here’s a link to one recent one on NPR’s On Point:

https://www.npr.org/2018/10/16/657512770/frederick-douglass-is-an-extended-meditation-on-the-legends-self-invention

And another  


https://www.npr.org/2018/10/16/657512770/frederick-douglass-is-an-extended-meditation-on-the-legends-self-invention

This is what you need to know about Frederick Douglass and the anti-slavery, the revolutionary abolitionist fight. He was the man, the shining q star black man who led the fight for black men to join the Union Army and not just either be treated as freaking contraband or worse, as projected in early in the war by the Lincoln administration the return of fugitive slaves to “loyal” slave-owners. Led the fight to not only seek an emancipation proclamation as part of the struggle but a remorseless and probably long struggle to crush slavery and slaver-owners and their hanger-on militarily. Had been ticketed at a desperate moment in 1864 to recreate a John Brown scenario if they logjam between North and South in Virginia had not been broken. Yes, a bright shining northern star black man.    










Josh White: Free and Equal Blues, Josh White, Smithsonian Folkway, 1998

Most of the points that I made in a previous review, the first two paragraphs of which are reposted below, of a Josh White DVD film documentary apply here as well.


"I have spent no little ink over the past year or so reviving memories of various folk and blues artists whose music helped me pass away my youth, a youth that otherwise would have been cluttered solely with little things like the fight for a more just society, attempts to understand history and, maybe as importantly, the individuals role in it-mine. As a part of that past I had spent more than a few Sunday evenings listening to a folk program on a local radio station. As a result I became very familiar with the name Josh White as an exemplar of soulful folk and blues tunes. And the first song that I recall hearing from this iconic figure?- "You, Can't Get No Bread With One Meatball". Go figure, right?

That oddly funny selection (not played here, although it would have been nice to hear it again), fortunately, does not reflect the very serious nature of Josh White's work, his personality and his struggle as a fighter for black liberation. We are treated to all aspects of that work in this one hour film of rare clips; mostly it appears to be material from early television performances. We are favored with the smooth voice, the strong guitar work (when required to give urgency to songs like the anti-Jim Crow ones presented here early on) and the sense of showmanship and professionalism that I remember the folk historian Dave Van Ronk mentioning concerning Josh's approach to performing. But what stand out here are the songs- from the intense "Strange Fruit" (an anti-Jim Crow song also covered in a different way by Billie Holiday) to a crowd-pleasing "Danny Boy". If this is your first exposure to this legendary figure in the folk and blues world then I would only state you have found a good place to start."

That said, it is only necessary to make a few extra comments here about the range of material that White was capable of delivering depending on audience and other circumstances but first this political comment. Smithsonian Folkway, almost by definition, provides great liner notes accompanying its productions. According to those provided here, written by folk historian Elijah Wald who has more recently written a biography of folk singer Dave Van Ronk, Brother White ran afoul of the House Un-American Activities Committee during the heart of the McCarthyite "red scare" campaign of the 1950's. While it is unclear whether White named names he did not, as was necessary, refuse to co-operate. This tarnished his reputation in the New York left-wing community. And it should have.

One can nevertheless understand why the various anti-red committees and others would have an interest in Brother White. I mentioned, for one, his version of the anti-lynching "Strange Fruit" above. How about Langston Hughes' "Freedom Road" for another. Or "Jim Crow". Or "Landlord". But, you get the drift. Then there is the less political stuff that still would have to be a little suspect once you realized this was someone trying to be a black liberation fighter, before it was fashionable (or safe). Here Cole Porter's "Miss Otis Regrets" is fine. As is "Careless Love" and Victoria Spivey's "T B Blues". And, of course, that above-mentioned "One Meatball". I wish Brother White had held up better politically but he has no problem standing up musically.


Freedom Road

written by: Langston Hughes, sung by:Josh White

Hand me my gun, let the bugle blow loud
I’m on my way with my head up proud
One objective I’ve got in view
Is to keep ahold of freedom for me and you

That’s why I’m marching, yes, I’m marching
Marching down Freedom’s Road
Ain’t nobody gonna stop me, nobody gonna keep me
From marching down Freedom’s Road

It ought to be plain as the nose on your face
There’s room in this land for every race
Some folks think that freedom just ain’t right
Those are the very people I want to fight . . .

United we stand, divided we fall
Let’s make this land safe for one and all
I’ve got a message and you know it’s right
Black and white together, unite and fight!


The Free and Equal Blues

variation written by: Josh White (a slightly different version was written originally by Yip Harburg)

I went down to that St. James Infirmary, and I saw some plasma there,
I ups and asks the doctor man, "Say was the donor dark or fair?"
The doctor laughed a great big laugh, and he puffed it right in my face,
He said, "A molecule is a molecule, son, and the damn thing has no race."

And that was news, yes that was news,
That was very, very, very special news.
'Cause ever since that day we’ve had those free and equal blues.

"You mean you heard that doc declare
That the plasma in that test tube there could be
White man, black man, yellow man, red?"
"That’s just what that doctor said."
The doc put down his doctor book and gave me a very scientific look
And he spoke out plain and clear and rational,
He said, "Metabolism is international."

Chorus

Then the doc rigged up his microscope with some Berlin blue blood,
And, by gosh, it was the same as Chun King, Quebechef, Chattanooga, Timbuktoo blood
Why, those men who think they’re noble
Don’t even know that the corpuscle is global
Trying to disunite us with their racial supremacy,
And flying in the face of old man chemistry,
Taking all the facts and trying to twist ëem,
But you can’t overthrow the circulatory system.

Chorus

So I stayed at that St. James Infirmary.
(I couldn’t leave that place, it was too interesting)
But I said to the doctor, "Give me some more of that scientific talk talk," and he did:
He said, "Melt yourself down into a crucible
Pour yourself out into a test tube and what have you got?
Thirty-five hundred cubic feet of gas,
The same for the upper and lower class."
Well, I let that pass . . .
"Carbon, 22 pounds, 10 ounces"
"You mean that goes for princes, dukeses and countses?"
"Whatever you are, that’s what the amounts is:
Carbon, 22 pounds, 10 ounces; iron, 57 grains."
Not enough to keep a man in chains.
"50 ounces of phosophorus, that’s whether you’re poor or prosperous."
"Say buddy, can you spare a match?"
"Sugar, 60 ordinary lumps, free and equal rations for all nations.
Then you take 20 teaspoons of sodium chloride (that’s salt), and you add 38
quarts of H2O (that’s water), mix two ounces of lime, a pinch of chloride of
potash, a drop of magnesium, a bit of sulfur, and a soupÁon of hydrochloric
acid, and you stir it all up, and what are you?"
"You’re a walking drugstore."
"It’s an international, metabolistic cartel."

And that was news, yes that was news,
So listen, you African and Indian and Mexican, Mongolian, Tyrolean and Tartar,
The doctor’s right behind the Atlantic Charter.
The doc’s behind the new brotherhood of man,
As prescribed at San Francisco and Yalta, Dumbarton Oaks, and at Potsdam:
Every man, everywhere is the same, when he’s got his skin off.
And that’s news, yes that’s news,
That’s the free and equal blues!



Sunday, December 09, 2018

*The House Un-American Activities Blues- The 1950's Red Scare-Woody Allen's The Front

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of the trailer for Woody Allen's "The Front".

DVD REVIEW

The Front, starring Woody Allen and Zero Mostel, directed by Martin Ritt, 1976


The various blanket infringements on the rights of ordinary American citizens and others since the criminal actions by Islamic fundamentalists of 9/11 hardly represent the first time that the American government has seen fit to curtail those rights. The Palmer Raids roundup of reds, radicals and foreigners in the aftermath of the Russian Revolution at the tail end of World War I comes to mind. As done the subject of this film, the 'red scare' against communist and other labor radicals after World War II with the onset of the Cold War against the Soviet Union, a former ally. The name of this period narrowly is given in the history books as the McCarthy witch-hunt era, although that hardly dose justice to the widespread political paranoia, high and low, in America at that time. The signature event was the execution of the Rosenbergs, Julius and Ethel, for passing 'atomic secrets' to the Soviet Union. As this film points out as it unfolds that political perfect storm dragged in and ruined many people from many fields, probably none more publicized than in the entertainment industry, especially film and the emerging television medium.

Woody Allen has performed many roles over the year from nerdy romantic lead to nerdy neurotic New York intellectual and social commentator but this is one of the few roles of his where the subject matter is more than just fodder for his sardonic writing or comedic talents. The story line here is rather simple, if the politics are rather more complex. Woody, a bright but underachieving New York bar cashier Howard Prince, as a favor (and to get some much needed cash as well) to his blacklisted lefty childhood television writer friend (played by Michael Murphy) agrees to “front” for him. This means that said friend does the writing and Woody gets the credit, the cash and, off-handedly as is the case with many commercial productions, the girl. In short order Woody gets to like the notoriety and the new lifestyle and agrees to front for other blacklisted writers. Then the real trouble starts.

During the early 1950’s it was not enough to write sanitary material for the mass media (approved by outsiders with their own agendas), it was not enough to apologize to various Congressional committees and their cohorts for youthful, innocent and, frankly, acceptable leftist political beliefs in order to survive in the entertainment industry (the subject here but it could have been in the trade unions, educational field, governmental service or almost any other facet of American life at the time). One had to grovel and name names. And the bulk of those who were called before the committees or faced other types of pressure did do, with regret, with relish or with indifference. But they did it.


There is an incredibly poignant sub-theme that runs throughout this film that details the pressures in the career-shattering of one of the “recanters”, Hecky Brown (masterfully played by Zero Mostel, blacklisted in the 1950’s himself as was the director Martin Ritt and some of the others), who in the end gives up Woody to the committees- finks on him, in other words. However filled with remorse Hecky commits suicide. That was not common to be sure. Hell, those were desperate times and not everyone has the courage to say no. Woody’s character, in the convoluted, Allen way does just that. And pays the consequences. So in the end there were choices. For every Elia Kazan, Elizabeth Bentley and the like there was a Howard Fast, a Dashiell Hammett and the like who said no. As some recently released information has indicated the Rosenbergs paid the ultimate price for their refusal to name names. That, in the end is what this film is all about and that is what should be honored. Just say no.

Monday, June 04, 2018

When Studs Terkel Spoke Truth To Power In A Sullen World -A Tribute From NPR’s Christopher Lydon’s “Open Source”-Studs Terkel Looks At His Craft

When Studs Terkel Spoke Truth To Power In A Sullen World -A Tribute From NPR’s Christopher Lydon’s “Open Source”


Link to Christopher Lydon's Open Source program on the late "people's  journalist" Studs Terkel

http://radioopensource.org/sound-of-studs-terkel/ 

By Si Lannon

It was probably Studs Terkel via a series of book reviews of his interviews trying to get a feel for the soul of the American from Sam Lowell that I first heard the expression “speaking truth to power.” Spoke that message to a sullen world then. Unfortunately since that time the world had not gotten less sullen. Nor has the need to speak truth to power dissipated since Studs passed from this mortal coil of a world that he did so much to give ear and eye to. The problem, the real problem is that we in America no longer produce that pied piper, that guy who will tell the tale the way it has to be told. Something about those gals and guys who waded through the Great Depression, saw firsthand in the closed South Side Chicago factories that something was desperately wrong with the way society operated and slogged through World War II and didn’t go face down in the post-war dead ass could war night spoke of grit and of a feeling that the gritty would not let you down when the deal went down. When Mister (Peabody, James Crow, Robber Baron you name it) called the bluff and you stood there naked and raw.        

Fellow Chicagoan writer Nelson Algren (he of The Man With The Golden Arm and Walk On The Wild Side) put the kind of gals and guys Studs looked around for in gritty urban sinkhole lyrical form but Studs is the guy who found the gritty unwashed masses to sing of. (It is not surprising that when Algren went into decline, wrote less lucid prose Stud grabbed him by the lapels and did a big time boost on one of his endless radio talks to let a candid world know that they missing a guy who know how to give voice to the voiceless, the people with small voices who are still getting the raw end of the deal, getting fucked over if you really want to nitty-gritty truth to power). So check this show out to see what it was like when writers and journalists went down in the mud to get to the spine of society.     



Click On Title To Link To Studs Terkel’s Web Page.

BOOK REVIEW

Studs Reflects On His Craft

The Spectator, Studs Terkel, The New Press, New York, 1999

As is my habit when an author "speaks" to me, I have been running through the oral histories of the mainly average citizens of America collected by the recently departed Studs Terkel, the premier interviewer of his age. When I latch onto a writer I want to delve into I tend to read whatever comes into my hands as I get it rather than systematically or chronologically. Thus, I have just gotten my hands on a copy of Terkel's "The Spectator", a professional actor's memoir of sorts, that goes a long way to filling in some blanks in the life story of one Louis "Studs" Terkel (including information that the nickname "Studs" is from the Chicago trilogy "Studs Lonigan" by James T. Farrell, another author who will be reviewed here in the future).

For those unfamiliar with Terkel's work other than his seemingly endless capacity to interview one and all this little book acts as glue to understanding a life-long commitment to his craft as an actor, his appreciation of those who gave memorable performances, his fantastical recall of such moments in the theater and on film and his creating of a wider audience appreciation for various musically traditions like jazz, folk music and the blues. Nice work.

Studs, like many of the members of his generation, was formed by the hardships and cruelties of the Great Depression that I believe in his oral histories are his special contribution to insights into that period and that is reflected here, as well. That was a time, as today's' current economic and social events seem to copying, where one was forced to get by on wits, cleverness and sheer "guts". Studs himself did odd jobs around the theater trying catch on a performer. But not just any theater and not just any performer. This is the period of the Theater Guild and of WPA which gave cultural workers or those who aspired to such a chance. These early efforts formed the lifelong interest that he has in the theater, playwrights, directors and of the 'tricks of the trade' in order to make the audience "believe" in the performance. I found, personally, his probing and informed interviews with Arthur Miller and Tennessee Williams , two of my own favorite playwrights, the most interesting part of a book filled with all kind of interesting tidbits.

For his efforts, then and later, Studs had some success in his career as a performer first in the ubiquitous radio that informed the consciousness of many in the so-called "greatest generation" as a disc jockey and interviewer of various musical figures like Billie Holiday on his shows, the Wax Museum and the Eclectic Disc Jockey. It is the combination of the radio as a medium and the in-depth interview as a format that sets Studs apart. Today we have no comprehension of how important these little extended interviews are as a contribution to the history of our modern culture. Will the ubiquitous mass media sound bites of the 21st century or even the unfiltered presentations on "YouTube", or its successors, tell future generations what that culture was all about? I don't even want to hazard a guess. But for now, savor, and I do mean savor, Studs going one-on-one with the above-mentioned Miller and Williams or songwriter Yip Harburg, come-back actor James Cagney, culture critics Harold Clurman and Kenneth Tynan and many, many more actors, actresses, playwrights, impresarios, directors and other cultural gadflies. Kudos and adieu Studs.

Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?
Gorney, Yip Harburg


They used to tell me
I was building a dream.
And so I followed the mob
When there was earth to plow
Or guns to bear
I was always there
Right on the job.
They used to tell me
I was building a dream
With peace and glory ahead.
Why should I be standing in line
Just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad
I made it run
Made it race against time.
Once I built a railroad
Now it's done
Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower up to the sun
Brick and rivet and lime.
Once I built a tower,
Now it's done.
Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits
Gee we looked swell
Full of that yankee doodle dee dum.
Half a million boots went sloggin' through hell
And I was the kid with the drum!

Say don't you remember?
They called me Al.
It was Al all the time.
Why don't you remember?
I'm your pal.
Say buddy, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits,
Ah, gee we looked swell
Full of that yankee doodle dee dum!
Half a million boots went sloggin' through hell
And I was the kid with the drum!

Oh, say don't you remember?
They called me Al.
It was Al all the time.
Say, don't you remember?
I'm your pal.
Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Saturday, November 11, 2017

*Once Again, Honor The Heroic Julius and Ethel Rosenberg

Click On Title To Link To Rosenberg Defense Fund For Children

I pass along this commentary from Workers Vanguard as one that may be (and should be) of interest to the radical public. Veteran's Day seems to a right kind of day for honoring the Rosenbergs.

Workers Vanguard No. 923
24 October 2008

Cold War Ideologues Want to Kill Them Again

Hail the Heroic Rosenbergs!

Martyrs of Anti-Soviet Witchhunt


Shortly after 8 p.m., on 19 June 1953, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were executed in the electric chair at New York’s Sing Sing prison. Jewish Communists from New York, the Rosenbergs were framed up on charges of “conspiring” to pass the “secret of the atomic bomb” to the Soviet Union during World War II, when the USSR was allied with the U.S. Their 1951 trial was replete from beginning to end with perjured testimony, concocted evidence, a heavy dose of anti-Semitism and a judge who illegally consulted with the prosecution before meting out a sentence under provisions of a law that didn’t apply to their case—all against a backdrop of bloodcurdling calls to “fry the Reds.”

Around the world, millions raised their voices in an outcry demanding “justice for the Rosenbergs.” But from the White House on down, the American ruling class was united in its determination to make an example of these courageous leftists who never renounced their support to the Soviet Union, and refused to name names to save their lives. The great Soviet spy Kim Philby, in his book, My Silent War, rightly called them “the brave Rosenbergs.”

Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were executed on the altar of Cold War anti-Communism, in which the U.S. rulers saw the USSR as the main obstacle to U.S. imperialist world hegemony. Thus, Julius Rosenberg was arrested three weeks after the outbreak of the Korean War and less than a year after the first Soviet A-bomb test. Setting the tone for the trial, the prosecutor ranted in his opening arguments that the Rosenbergs stole “the key to the survival of this nation and…the peace of the world.” As we explained in our article “In Defense of the Rosenbergs!” (WV No. 86, 21 November 1975), following World War II:

“As the predominant capitalist power, the U.S., planning for an ‘American century,’ tore apart the U.S.-Soviet alliance and prepared the ground for a nationwide anti-red scare. When the Soviet Union exploded its first nuclear bomb in 1949 and later that same year Mao’s Red Army overthrew capitalism in China, politicians like Richard Nixon and Joseph McCarthy were building their political careers through a crusade to exorcise ‘Communism’ from American life.”

It was against this backdrop the Rosenbergs were put to death.

The Rosenberg Case and the Russian Question

The horrific memory of this case has been nearly impossible to bury. The capitalist rulers—often with liberals and social democrats taking the lead—have found the need to frame up and execute the Rosenbergs again and again. On the one hand they seek to defend the secret police, prosecution, judiciary and highest federal authorities who framed them. On the other, the Rosenberg case was, and still is, the question of the Russian Revolution. The 1917 seizure of power by the Bolshevik-led Russian working class was the greatest event of human history, and its counterrevolutionary destruction in 1991-92, after decades of Stalinist bureaucratic misrule, a world-historic catastrophe. America’s imperialist rulers, the most dangerous in history, would like to wipe out of the consciousness of the proletariat and the oppressed any attachment to the program or ideals of communism—and that means driving a stake through the memory of those martyred in defense of the land of the October Revolution.

Today, with the financial crash leading the international capitalist economy into a freefall, the massive unpopularity of the U.S. occupation of Iraq, the floundering occupation of Afghanistan, the U.S. bourgeoisie seized on a chance to fry the Rosenbergs again. The latest exhumation and assassination was sparked by an interview (12 September) by the New York Times’ Sam Roberts with the Rosenbergs’ co-defendant Morton Sobell, who had served over 18 years in prison. Responding to whether he had been a Soviet spy, Sobell, now 91 years old and ill, said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, call it that. I never thought of it in those terms.” Regarding Julius Rosenberg, Sobell offered, “His intentions might have been to be a spy.” Yet Sobell maintained that sketches and other atomic bomb details the government claimed were passed along to Julius Rosenberg by his brother-in-law, David Greenglass, were of little value. “What he gave them was junk.” According to Sobell, Ethel Rosenberg “knew what he [Julius] was doing, but what was she guilty of? Of being Julius’s wife.”

We don’t know if Sobell’s “confession” is true or not—whether his interview was a last grab for attention near the end of his life or merely an expression of his coming to peace with U.S. imperialism. We do know however that every previous effort to “prove” the Rosenbergs’ “guilt”—from Ronald Radosh’s 1983 book, The Rosenberg File, which featured the dubious jailhouse informer Jerome Tartakow, to the Venona papers released in 1995—have had as much credibility as Bush’s tales of “weapons of mass destruction.” The Rosenbergs were legally lynched for political purposes. As the then-Trotskyist Socialist Workers Party (SWP) wrote in the Militant (27 October 1952): “The Rosenberg decision above all else was an act of ruling class terror by a state that is preparing a war of world conquest, a war directed primarily against the Soviet Union.”

What is indisputably true is that for the U.S. capitalist masters, guilt or innocence mattered not at all. Nor is guilt or innocence in this case the key question for revolutionaries. The nuclear arms capacity developed by the Soviet Union was an important component to the defense of the gains of the October Revolution. As we wrote 25 years ago, at the height of Carter/Reagan’s Cold War II, in “They’re Trying to Kill the Rosenbergs All Over Again” (WV No. 340, 21 October 1983):

“For revolutionaries, on the contrary, those who helped the Russians achieve nuclear capacity did a great service for humanity. Had U.S. imperialism maintained a nuclear monopoly, it would have meant historic defeats for the international proletariat. It would have meant nuclear destruction from Southeast Asia to Latin America. Who can doubt that U.S. imperialism would have destroyed Vietnam totally with nuclear weapons if they did not fear a retaliatory Soviet strike? Would Cuba exist today if the U.S. had a nuclear monopoly? It is clear that the USSR’s advance to nuclear capacity and then to nuclear parity has thus far been instrumental in staying the nuclear hand of U.S. imperialism.”

The Soviet Union was destroyed by imperialist-backed counterrevolution, but the question posed by the Russian Revolution—that of the proletarian seizure of state power—is as vital as ever. The imperialists seek to rewrite history in order to ensure that the rule of capital is never again challenged. We honor the Rosenbergs’ memory today, not least in our unconditional military defense of the remaining bureaucratically deformed workers states—China, Cuba, Vietnam and North Korea—against imperialist attack and internal counterrevolution.

As always, the Rosenberg case is used to serve the political needs of the day. Sobell’s “confession” was leaped on by the bourgeois press and bloggers. “Case Closed: The Rosenbergs were Soviet Spies,” trumpeted an op-ed piece by Ronald Radosh in the Los Angeles Times (17 September). Written when he was a member of the Democratic Socialists of America, Radosh’s 1983 book was a rallying point for the liberals, rad-libs and social democrats as they joined U.S. imperialism’s efforts to regiment the population during Cold War II against the Soviet Union. Today, Radosh, portrayed as an expert on the Rosenbergs case, is a neocon, a loud voice in support of the “war on terrorism” and a contributing columnist to FrontPage Magazine, mouthpiece of right-wing racist demagogue David Horowitz.

Written shortly after the FBI was given new powers to spy on and terrorize the population in the name of the “war on terrorism,” Radosh’s L.A. Times article declares, “It is time the ranks of the left acknowledge that the United States had (and has) real enemies and that finding and prosecuting them is not evidence of repression.” Meanwhile, his right-wing acolytes have seized on the Sobell statements to argue that death row political prisoner Mumia Abu-Jamal—a former Black Panther Party spokesman and supporter of the MOVE organization framed up on charges of killing Police Officer Daniel Faulkner in 1981—is guilty. It is a telling indictment of American capitalist “justice” that from the liberal New York Times to Radosh’s right-wing “fringe,” Sobell’s confession is accepted without question, while the mountains of evidence of Mumia’s innocence, including the confession of Arnold Beverly that he, not Mumia, shot Faulkner, is sneered at and barred by court after court.

A Cold War Show Trial

Like many of their generation, the Rosenbergs were inspired by the authority and achievements of the Russian Revolution, which overthrew capitalism on one-sixth of the globe and created a society where those who labored ruled. Within less than two decades, the collectivized and planned economy of the USSR propelled a poor and backward country into a world power, with jobs, housing, education and medical care for all. In the 1930s, the capitalist world was mired in the Great Depression, while the rise of fascism and the buildup for a second interimperialist war further exposed the barbarity of capitalist class rule. As a teenager, Julius became determined to help free labor leader Tom Mooney, and as a college freshman protested against fascist students from Italy visiting CCNY. Ethel helped raise money for refugees fleeing fascist terror during the Spanish Civil War. Both were active trade unionists—Ethel in the clerical workers union and Julius as an organizer for the Federation of Architects, Engineers, Chemists and Technicians until he was fired from his job in 1945 for membership in the U.S. Communist Party (CP).

The Rosenbergs looked for political leadership to the Stalinized CP, a product of the degeneration of the Soviet workers state and Communist International. Ardent believers in the disastrous Stalinist popular front against fascism, the Rosenbergs were typical of “progressives” who hoped for a U.S.-Soviet alliance to continue after World War II. CP leader Earl Browder declared, “Communism is 20th Century Americanism.” But the U.S. ruling class didn’t see it that way.

On the contrary, the Rosenbergs were political scapegoats tried as “atom spies” because U.S. imperialism lost its nuclear monopoly, and with it the capacity for nuclear blackmail against the Soviets. Two months after Washington dropped A-bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, the Pentagon mapped out a plan to launch a nuclear attack on 20 Soviet cities. Throughout the next few years, the U.S. repeatedly threatened to nuke Russia during early confrontations in the Cold War—in 1946, in 1948 over Berlin, again in 1950 over Korea. FBI chief J. Edgar Hoover seized on the Soviets’ August 1949 atomic test to unleash his army of G-men to hunt down the “atom spies” in the hopes of launching a series of show trials to frame up the CP for espionage. They went on frequent fishing expeditions hoping to force “confessions” and to get the confessors to falsely point the finger at other CPers.

Government prosecutors have since admitted that the arrest and threat of execution of Ethel Rosenberg was intended solely to force Julius to break down and “confess.” In the last minutes of their lives, a U.S. Marshal stood outside the execution chamber, waiting for a nod from either of them indicating that they would “confess” and “name names.” Two FBI agents waited by a special phone with an open line to Attorney General Brownell, ready to call off the execution if the Rosenbergs capitulated and allowed the government to use them as it had other finks and turncoats. But the Rosenbergs refused to bow.

Fully aware that there was no case against the Rosenbergs for espionage, the government got them on the classic frame-up charge—“conspiracy.” The government knew that the Rosenbergs did not “steal the secret of the atomic bomb.” In fact there was no “secret.” J. Robert Oppenheimer, the physicist in charge of designing the first atomic bomb, pointed out, “There are no unpublished secrets concerning atomic weapons, and no secrets of nature available to a few.” Judge Irving Kaufman, upon pronouncing the death sentence, accused the Rosenbergs of “treason.” It did not matter that according to the U.S. Constitution, “treason,” a capital crime, is defined as giving aid and comfort to the enemy in wartime. The USSR was an ally of the U.S. in 1944 when the “crime” supposedly took place!

It was hardly coincidental that the judge, the lead prosecutor, Irving Saypol, and the key witnesses were Jewish, chosen in a transparent effort to cover up the stench of anti-Semitism surrounding the trial (see “The Political Execution of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg,” WV No. 626, 28 July 1995). Two self-confessed perjurers sent them to the chair—Ethel Rosenberg’s brother David Greenglass and Philadelphia chemist Harry Gold, supposedly a Soviet spy courier. Gold admitted at the trial to having become “so tangled up in a web of lies...it is a wonder steam didn’t come out of my ears,” and never even testified to having met or known Julius or Ethel Rosenberg.

Greenglass, who had apparently stolen a piece of uranium while working as an army technician at the Los Alamos nuclear facility in 1945, set his sister and her husband up as fall guys. Greenglass testified that, after being recruited to a spy ring by Julius, he had handed sketches of the atomic bomb to Soviet spy courier Gold, claiming to have learned the A-bomb “secret” by overhearing conversations of scientists passing through the machine shop at Los Alamos. Greenglass implicated his sister with testimony that she typed up the notes for Julius. That Greenglass’ testimony was perjured was proven yet again in recently released grand jury testimony of his wife Ruth Greenglass, who testified that she wrote up the notes. The only hard “evidence” against the Rosenbergs introduced at the trial was a contribution box found in their home for Spanish Civil War refugees and Ethel’s signature on a petition for a Communist candidate for New York City Council.

Liberals and Social Democrats Witchhunt Reds

While his name has become a synonym for eviscerating the democratic rights of individuals and organizations based on their political views and associations, Wisconsin Senator Joe McCarthy was at first a fringe development in the anti-Communist hysteria. The political basis of the post World War II witchhunt was set by the Cold War liberals. As early as 1947, Democratic president Harry Truman put in place a loyalty board to screen all government employees, and the purge of left-wing militants from the CIO began. That same year Congress enacted the strikebreaking Taft-Hartley law, which, in addition to outlawing such labor weapons as secondary strikes, barred Communists from union office. It was the pro-Truman anti-Communists, among them Democrat Hubert Humphrey and United Auto Workers head Walter Reuther who founded the Americans for Democratic Action in 1947 to drive the CP and radicals out of the unions.

Some 25,000 union members, many of them key leaders of the CIO organizing drives of the 1930s, were purged from the labor movement, in some cases leading to the destruction of whole unions. Thousands of others were tracked down by the FBI and driven from their jobs, only to continue to be hounded and witchhunted due to secret employer blacklists. The 1950 McCarran Act, named for the Democratic Senator from Nevada, legitimized secret FBI record keeping on “subversive” individuals and called for the registration of organizations and individuals who purportedly “advocated violent overthrow” of the government. It also provided for the deportation of non-citizens who had been Communists at any time in their lives. Hundreds of Communists were jailed. Nearly 12,000 people were listed on a “Security Index” kept by FBI national headquarters and another 17,000 on the “Communist Index,” while FBI field offices held lists of an additional 200,000 considered to constitute a danger in times of “national emergency.” Humphrey sponsored the 1954 Communist Control Act outlawing the CP, and amended the McCarran Act to set up concentration camps for “subversives” in the U.S.

The liberal Cold Warriors shared the same enemy, Communism, but thought that McCarthy overreached—he went after the “innocent” liberals along with the “guilty.” When the names of Cold War liberals were added to the Attorney General’s Subversives List, the liberals dumped McCarthy. The liberals and social democrats wanted their civil liberties and their witchhunt too.

Playing a parallel role was the Independent Socialist League (ISL) of Max Shachtman, successor to the Workers Party. The founders of the Workers Party had split toward social democracy from the SWP in 1940 over their refusal to defend the Soviet Union against imperialism. The ISL, a precursor to the International Socialist Organization (ISO), supported the expulsions of the CP-led unions from the CIO. Shachtman, clearly expressing the need to join forces with Reuther, declared that workers “should follow the general line, inside the labor movement, of supporting the reformist officialdom against the Stalinist officialdom” (New International, September 1949). Shachtman proclaimed, “Stalinism is the most virulent poison that has ever coursed through the veins of the working class and its movement. The work of eliminating it makes the first claim on the attention of every militant.” The anti-red purge installed a venal pro-imperialist union leadership that abetted the bosses in fostering racial divisions and presided over the decimation of the unions for decades.

Shachtman’s ISL refused to come out for commutation of the Rosenbergs’ sentence until just before the execution. In the Bay Area branch, where a vote to support commutation of the death sentence lost by a single vote, the right-wing “hang the spies” faction was destroyed when confronted with Shachtman’s wire to President Eisenhower asking to commute the sentence. Writing in the name of “an independent socialist organization which has been uncompromising in its struggle against Stalinism,” Shachtman assured Eisenhower that their concern arose only from the death penalty which “gives worldwide Stalinism an effective weapon” (Labor Action, 22 June 1953). Still, there was a hue and cry in the party against the decision, as letters poured in to Labor Action bitterly complaining of Shachtman’s “capitulation” and of “this belated jump into the ‘super-liberal’ bandwagon...that hangs on the Stalinist coattails.”

The Shachtmanites were visceral anti-Communists. But most of the left, including the SWP, failed to immediately rally to the Rosenbergs’ defense for other reasons. This was a time when leftist militants were being tried and sent to prison for long stretches based on nothing but their libraries; Congressmen were calling to make CP membership a capital crime and the government was looking to brand left organizations, particularly the CP, as espionage agents. Civil rights activist Carl Braden was jailed for “state sedition” after he and his wife sold a house to a black family in a white neighborhood of Louisville, Kentucky. Paul Robeson, the acclaimed black actor and vocalist, was one of the many stripped of their passports and banned from leaving the country for years. The renowned filmmaker Charlie Chaplin, a British citizen, was barred from re-entering the U.S.

As for the CP, it did not even mention the case until after the trial was over and the death sentence had already been handed down. When the CP did take up the case, it neither denounced the political frame-up nor defended the Rosenbergs as victims of the capitalist state. It merely accused the government of “bad faith” similar to its refusal “to negotiate peace in Korea” (Daily Worker, 6 April 1951). The CP’s betrayal was not simply one of defense policy over the Rosenbergs’ case. The CP betrayed the working class with its program of class collaboration, its policy of tailing the “progressive” bourgeoisie. By the end of World War II, the CP found itself without allies when it was no longer useful for the bourgeoisie to continue the popular front forged during the “Great Patriotic War Against Fascism.” Years of class collaboration behind Roosevelt—the no-strike pledge, scabbing on strikes and betrayal of the fight for black rights during the Second World War—closed off the possibility of effectively mobilizing the labor movement against repression. As the Cold War McCarthy period ensued, the CP found itself totally abandoned by its “progressive” friends.

Even had the CP moved sooner and with more energy, it is not likely they could have saved the Rosenbergs from a government intent on killing them. Against the Stalinists’ vapid talk of “bad faith” on the part of the U.S. government, it was the SWP that correctly recognized the anti-Soviet centrality of the Rosenberg trial and hailed the USSR’s nuclear capacity—an important act demonstrating considerable political courage in that period. Though the SWP could have recognized the political character of the Rosenberg case sooner and sounded the alarm earlier and louder, the defense record of the SWP was generally excellent. They protested the 1949 Smith Act prosecutions of the CP, undeterred by the vicious sectarianism which led the CP to applaud the first use of the Smith Act in 1941 against the Trotskyists for their principled opposition to their “own” rulers. While unconditionally defending the USSR during the Second World War, the SWP courageously opposed all the imperialist combatants in that carnage.

Today, Sobell’s “confession” has left the Rosenbergs’ few liberal defenders uneasy and defensive. That is because they are hostile to the cause for which the Rosenbergs died. What the liberals care about is the “fairness” of the American “justice” system. For Howard Zinn, “The most important thing was they did not get a fair trial in the atmosphere of cold war hysteria” (New York Times, 21 September). Victor Navasky, former publisher of the Nation, told the Times, “I wish Morty and Ethel and Julius had been open about what they had and hadn’t done, or in Morty’s case, ‘come clean’ before this.” He added, “These guys thought they were helping our ally in wartime, and yes, they broke the law, shouldn’t have done what they did, and should have been proportionally punished for it; but the greater betrayal was by the state.”

Today, Shachtman’s heirs in the ISO have published an article “Executed to Send a Message” (Socialist Worker online, 30 September) that makes no mention of the Democrats’ role in the Cold War witchhunt or in the Rosenbergs’ prosecution. The ISO ludicrously seeks to put distance between the Rosenbergs and the CP, stating, “by 1943, they were no longer active in the party,” and giving not the slightest hint that they went to their deaths as supporters of the Soviet Union. Small wonder: this is a group that was formed in opposition to the defense of the USSR and that hailed its counterrevolutionary destruction.

Against such liberals and renegades, we Trotskyists fought to the end in defense of the Soviet Union and the deformed workers states of East Europe. We hail those, like the Rosenbergs, who gave their lives in defense of the land of October and fight to disarm the rapacious imperialist rulers through socialist revolution. We will not forget—Honor the heroic Rosenbergs! For new October Revolutions!

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

*Once Again, 'The Stuff Of Dreams"- "The Maltese Falcon"- A Film Review

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for the classic film noir detective film, The Maltese Falcon.

DVD Review

The Maltese Falcon, starring Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, Peter Lorre, Sydney Greenstreet, directed by John Huston, 1941


The first two paragraphs are taken from a review of Dashiell Hammett’s book The Maltese Falcon, also reviewed today, from which this film adaptation was, pretty closely, drawn.

“Dashiell Hammett, along with Raymond Chandler, reinvented the detective genre in the 1930's and 1940's. They moved the genre away from the amateurish and simple parlor detectives that had previously dominated the genre to hard-boiled action characters who knew what was what and didn't mind taking a beating to get the bad guys. And along the way they produced some very memorable literary characters as well. Nick Charles (and Nora), Sam Spade and Phillip Marlowe are well known exemplars of the action detective.

Hammett and Chandler also speak to a different, more macho if you will, but also a more world-wary and world-weary style of detection than today’s hyper-extended and techno-detail-oriented detectives who rely on computers and gadgetry more than guts. Still, with few exceptions, it is hard now to find a better proto-type for the kind of detective that writers of detective fiction wished they had, in their long, smoke-filled, whiskey-soaked, staring at that blank white page, writer nights (and we will not even speak of the days), dreamed up than Sam Spade. Nor a better, sparse, functional language-filled story line than old Dashiell Hammett thought up."

In literature and film there have been no lack of private detective-types depicted from the urbane Nick and Nora Charles (also a Hammett creation) of The Thin Man series to Mickey Spillane's rough and tumble Mike Hammer but the classic model for all modern ones is Dashiell Hammett's Sam Spade (the Humphrey Bogart role in the film) in The Maltese Falcon. Some may argue on behalf of Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe and may have a point but as for film adaptations Spade wins hands down. Compare, if you will, Bogart's performance in The Maltese Falcon with his performance (good as it was, and as “hot” as it was with real life lady love, Lauren Bacall, be still my heart, co-starring) The Big Sleep. Get my point. But enough of that. What make's Spade the classic is his intrepidness, his orneriness, his dauntless dedication to the task at hand, his sense of irony, his incorruptibility, his willingness to take an inordinate amount of bumps and bruises for paltry fees and his off-hand manner with the ladies, femme fatales included, and a gun. And in The Maltese Falcon he needs all of these qualities and then some.

And for what? It is the bird, stupid. You know, the stuff that dreams are made of. This modern tale of greed and desire gets nicely worked with a cast of adventurers, including Sam's love interest, one femme fatale, Brigid, of course, who are serious, inept, and ultimately dangerous. There is a certain amount of off-hand humor as is warranted by some of the situations thrown in to boot. Sam is well up to handling everything thrown at him by is male adversaries. But, the dame (played by Mary Astor in the film), that is a different question. She is as greedy (if not more so) than the rest but she is ready to use her feminine wiles on even the incorruptible Spade in order to get that damn bird. That, dear friends, puts her beyond the pale and she will have many a lonely night in prison to think that through. In the end Sam's honor and the honor of his private detective profession is intact, and that's what counts in his world. Counts big, as it turns out.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

*In Honor Of The Late Rocker Chuck Berry Who Helped Make It All Possible-Coming Of Age, 50s Style-Another Encore

In Honor Of The Late Rocker Chuck Berry Who Helped Make It All Possible-Coming Of Age, 50s Style-Another Encore





In Honor Of The Late Rocker Chuck Berry Who Helped Make It All Possible-Coming Of Age, 50s Style-Another Encore

CD Review

Oldies But Goodies, Volume Two, Original Sound Record Co., 1986


I have been doing a series of commentaries elsewhere on another site on my coming of political age in the early 1960s, but here when I am writing about musical influences I am just speaking of my coming of age, period, which was not necessarily the same thing. No question that those of us who came of age in the 1950s are truly children of rock and roll. We were there, whether we appreciated it or not at the time, when the first, sputtering, musical moves away from ballady Broadway show tunes and rhymey Tin Pan Alley pieces hit the radio airwaves. (If you do not know what a radio is then ask your parents or, ouch, grandparents, please.) And, most importantly, we were there when the music moved away from any and all music that your parents might have approved of, or maybe, even liked, or, hopefully, at least left you alone to play in peace up in your room when rock and roll hit post- World War II America teenagers like, well, like an atomic bomb.

Not all of the material put forth was good, nor was all of it destined to be playable fifty or sixty years later on some “greatest hits” compilation but some of songs had enough chordal energy, lyrical sense, and sheer danceability to make any Jack or Jill jump then, or now. And, here is the good part, especially for painfully shy guys like me, or those who, like me as well, had two left feet on the dance floor. You didn’t need to dance toe to toe, close to close, with that certain she (or he for shes). Just be alive…uh, hip to the music. Otherwise you might become the dreaded wallflower. But that fear, the fear of fears that haunted many a teenage dream then, is a story for another day. Let’s just leave it at this for now. Ah, to be very, very young then was very heaven.

So what still sounds good on this CD compilation to a current AARPer and, and perhaps some of his fellows who comprise the demographic that such a 1950s compilation “speak” to. Of course, Danny and The Juniors, At The Hop, one of the first rock songs that I heard (and heard over and over again) on the local radio stations. Naturally an “angel” song, this time on a happier note, Pretty Little Angel Eyes. Naturally, in a period of classic rock numbers, Fats Domino’s Blueberry Hill (or, like Chuck Berry from this period, virtually any other of about twenty of his songs).

But what about the now, seeming mandatory to ask, inevitable end of the night high school dance song (or maybe even middle school) that seems to be included in each CD compilation? The song that you, maybe, waited around all night for just to prove that you were not a wallflower, and more importantly, had the moxie to, mumbly-voice, parched-throated, sweaty-handed, asked a girl to dance (women can relate their own experiences, probably similar). Here the classic Goodnight My Love fills the bill. Hey, I didn’t even like the song, or the singing, but she said yes (a different she that the one from the Volume One review, oh fickle youth) this was what you waited for so don’t be so choosey. And, yes, I know, this is one of the slow ones that you had to dance close on. And just hope, hope to high heaven that you didn’t destroy your partner’s shoes and feet. Well, one learns a few social skills in this world if for no other reason that to “impress” that certain she (or he for shes) mentioned above. I did, didn’t you?

***********

Blueberry Hill-Fats Domino Lyrics

I found my thrill
On Blueberry Hill
On Blueberry Hill
When I found you

The moon stood still
On Blueberry Hill
And lingered until
My dream came true

The wind in the willow played
Love's sweet melody
But all of those vows you made
Were never to be

Though we're apart
You're part of me still
For you were my thrill
On Blueberry Hill

The wind in the willow played
Love's sweet melody
But all of those vows you made
Were never to be

Though we're apart
You're part of me still
For you were my thrill
On Blueberry Hill

Thursday, January 12, 2017

*In The Spirit Of Dalton Trumbo -From The Folk Archives- Richard And Mimi Farina Performng "House Un-American Blues Activity Dream"

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Richard and Mimi Farina performing 'House Un-American Blues Activity Dream" on Dalton Trumbo's fellow blacklistee Pete Seeger's 1960s television show, "Rainbow Quest". It all fits here doesn't it. All honor to those who said no to that committee, come what may.



Clip From Trailer for Trumbo (2015)- the story of the black-listed writer who wrote the classic Johnny Got His Gun.






Lyrics to House Un-American Blues Activity Dream :

I was standing on the sidewalk, had a noise in my head.
There were loudspeakers babbling, but nothing was said.
There were twenty-seven companies of female Marines.
There were presidential candidates in new Levis jeans.
It was the red, white and blue planning how to endure.
The fife, drum and bugle marching down on the poor.
God bless America, without any doubt.
And I figured it was time to get out.

Well I have to b'lieve that in between scenes, good people.
Went and got em done in the sun, good people.
Tourist information said to get on the stick.
You ain't moving 'til you're grooving with a Cubana chick.
So I hopped on a plane, I took a pill for my brain,
and I discovered I was feeling all right.
When I strolled down the Prado, people looked at me weird.
Who's that hippy, hoppy character without any beard?
Drinking juice from papayas, singing songs to the trees.
Dancing mambo on the beaches, spreading social disease.

Now the Castro convertible was changing the style,
a whole lot of action on a blockaded isle.
When along come a summons in the middle of night,
saying, "Buddy, we're about to indict."
When I went up on the stand with my hand, good people.
You've got to tell the truth in the booth, good people.
I started out with information kind of remote.
When a patriotic mother dragged me down by the throat.
"If they ask you a question, they expect a reply!"
Doesn't matter if you're fixin' to die.

Well I was lying there unconscious feeling kind of exempt.
When the judge said that silence was a sign of contempt.
He took out his gavel, banged me hard on the head.
He fined me ten years in prison, and a whole lot of bread.
It was the red, white and blue making war on the poor.
Blind mother justice, on a pile of manure.
Say your prayers and the Pledge of Allegiance every night.
And tomorrow, you'll be feeling all right.

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

*Norman Mailer's Search for the Great American Novel-"The Deer Park"

Click on the headline to link to a "The New York Times" obituary for American writer Norman Mailer article, dated November 10, 2007.

BOOK REVIEW

The Deer Park, Norman Mailer, Abacus, 1988


At one time, as with Ernest Hemingway, I tried to get my hands on everything that Norman Mailer wrote. In his prime he held out promise to match Hemingway as the pre-eminent male American prose writer. Mailer certainly had the ambition, ego and skill to do so. In his inevitable search to write the great American novel, at least for his generation, I do not believe, that he was successful. The Deer Park is an early attempt to tackle that goal and while there are flashes of brilliance there is far too much self-consciousness on making a great American novel. That most dramatically got reflected in the tinniness of his characters, male and female, and reduced the book to a fairly ordinary look at a slice of the American pie.

Certainly the subject matter of the novel is an almost surefire way to get attention. Put Hollywood-types in 'exile' in the desert, add wayward movie stars, starlets and wannabes, and a male lead character who is not sure what he wants to be but is sure that the stars shine for him somewhere and you have the makings of a great American novel. Throw in, almost obligatory for a `fifties' novel and for a self-described leftist like Mailer , the tensions surrounding the `red scare', Hollywood- style, and the cultural clamp down that imposed on American society and one should be onto something. But, strangely, Mailer gets bogged down in the sexual escapades of the main characters and never gets to the heart of the real question that the novel poses- How the hell does one safeguard his or her creative expression without selling out to every conceivable pressure that comes along? It did not work, but nice try Norman.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

*Dalton Trumbo’s “Johnny Got His Gun”- A Film Excerpt

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of an excerpt from the 1971 film version of Dalton Trumbo's "Johnny Got His Gun" starring Donald Sutherland.


Clip From Trailer for Trumbo (2015)- the story of the black-listed writer who wrote the classic Johnny Got His Gun.

 

 



Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye
words and music Traditional


While on the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While on the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While on the road to sweet Athy
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where are your eyes that look so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that look so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that look so mild
When my poor heart you first beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where are your legs with which ye run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs with which ye run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs with which ye run
When first you learned to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Sulloon
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll be having to put a bowl to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Ceylon;
So low in the flesh, so high in the boon.
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Extra lyrics I found:

They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye.

Chords: KEY D

Background: Which came first the chicken or the egg. I first learned about "Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye" from a popular American version written during the Civil War. That song "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" was first published in 1863 as "Words and Music by Louis Lambert," which was a pseudonym for Patrick Sarsfield, 1829-1892. Patrick was a native of Ireland who emigrated to Boston. "When Johnny Comes Marching Home" is a rousing song about a hero returning from war.

The first published version of "Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ye" came out several years after Sarsfield's song. Nevertheless, it is strongly believed to have originated in Ireland.

It's a much more somber song that tells about the woes and horrors of war in the popular folk tradition of describing the body parts blown off a soldier who does not come home to his love.

Tuesday, January 05, 2016

*Blood Simple, Natch- Dashiell Hammett's "Red Harvest"

Click on the headline to link to a Wikipedia entry for Dashiell Hammett's early Continental Op detective novel, Red Harvest.

Book Review

Red Harvest, Dashiell Hammett, 1929


Dashiell Hammett, along with Raymond Chandler, reinvented the detective genre in the 1930's and 1940's. They moved the genre away from the amateurish and simple parlor detectives that had previously dominated the genre to hard-boiled action characters who knew what was what and didn't mind taking a beating to get the bad guys. And along the way they produced some very memorable literary characters as well. Nick and Nora Charles, Sam Spade and Phillip Marlowe are well known exemplars of the action detective. However, on the way to creating these literary works of art Hammett did journeyman's work at the detective genre in various pulp detective magazines. Moreover, in the beginning he hid his detectives behind the anonymous, although not faceless or without personality, average,somewhat realistic detectives of a national detective agency (shades of his own past).

The unnamed universal Continental Operative (Op) who is the central character of here is the is the prototype for Hammett's later named detectives. He has all the characteristics that mark a noir detective-tough, resourceful, undaunted, and incorruptible with a sense of honor to friend and foe alike that sets him apart from earlier, fumbling, detectives. The plot line here requires all the resourcefulness of the Op as he tries to cleanup a new Western boom town tied together by many a criminal enterprise and the greed (and complicity) of the local bourgeois big shot who let things get out of hand, when profits dictated the action. The twist and turns as Op tries to mix and match with the various interests at play drive the drama of the book. Along the way, of course, just like in the Old West, there is plenty of shoot-‘em-up action before the town, Personville (aka, Poisonville ) is fit for respectable folks to make an honest dollar in. If you want a well-thought out story, although not as memorable as The Maltese Falcon or the The Thin Man, that is also well-written, although without the numerous unforgettable lines of the above-mentioned novels, from a member of the second echelon of the American literary pantheon, this one is for you.

****
This note is being placed with all reviews of Dashiell Hammett's classic noir detective novels.

Note: It is not altogether clear to me what Hammett’s political sympathies (or rather more to the point, organization connections) were in the period of his great detection-writing period, the early 1930s, although one can speculate they were at least progressive. I should note for those who are only familiar with the detective novels and crime short stories that Hammet was a make-no-bones-about-it supporter of the Communist Party during the hard, don’t turn eye from your neighbor, see reds under every bed, your Mommy is a commie turn her in, prison house, American night of the red scare, Cold War, post World War II period (and earlier as well, during the Popular Front all the way with FDR (Franklin Delano Roosevelt), Joe Stalin, our father can do no wrong, Moscow Trials liquidate the Old Bolsheviks, the makers of the revolution, time but this post-war period is what concerns me here).

This was period when anything to the left of Herbert Hoover, including probably red tablecloths on restaurant tables, was suspect. This is also the period of the unlamented Joe McCarthy, the equally unlamented Richard Nixon, the deep, fatal, anti-communist purges in the labor unions from which we still suffer today (and anti-red purges in many other political and cultural institutions as well), and of the time of “the naming of names.” The high watermark time of the “fink” and of the “blacklist.” I have vilified, rightly so, no, righteously so, the likes of movie director Elia Kazan (Viva Zapata, On The Waterfront) for their “stool pigeon” scab actions before the "committees".

Kazan was, unfortunately, not alone in that dark, witch-hunt, keep your eyes down, keep walking straight ahead with blinkers on, tell them what they want to know although they already know it, night. I have also heaped tons of well-deserved praise on the heroic Rosenbergs, Julius and Ethel, for holding their ground under intense pressure and under penalty of paying the ultimate price, their lives, for their steadfastness. For defending the Soviet Union, not in our Trotskyist way, but in their own honorable way, and didn’t complain about it when they were called on it, unjustly, by the American imperial state.

Dashiell Hammett was called, tooth brush in hand, before the “red scare” committees and just said no. Hats off. Now there is no need to get mushy about it, and one should not forget that in the end Hammett’s Stalinist politics (and vilification of leftist political opponents like our Trotskyist forbears) made us not less political opponents, but isn’t there something in old Hammett’s actions, that sense of “tilting to the windmills,” that leads right back to Sam Spade. Yes, I thought you would think so.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

*Playwright's Corner- Clifford Odets' "Waiting For Lefty"

Click on the headline to link to a "Wikipedia" entry for the American playwright Clifford Odets.

Book/Play Review

Waiting For Lefty, and other plays, Clifford Odets, Random House, New York, 1935


There has always been a place for didactic political plays, like the one under review here, “Waiting For Lefty”, within the left-wing movement. Such plays have value both as a means to express certain plebeian cultural values that are not expressed through mainstream bourgeois cultural institutions and for purely propaganda purposes to get the “message” out to the sometimes illiterate, sometimes just barely literate, or sometimes merely recalcitrant masses. These are both honorable and acceptable means in order to create an “alternative” cultural expression looking forward to the new culture of the new communist society.

Moreover, there has been no lack of those cultural workers, including playwrights and actors, who, while not plebes themselves, have readily come over to our side, at least for a while. This movement toward the plebes is episodic but takes a big leap forward especially in times of general social turmoil like the period of the Great Depression in the 1930’s and in the social movements of the 1960s. That is the case with the playwright under review, Clifford Odets, and the cultural organization that initially sponsored his works, The Theater Guild of New York, in the 1930s.

Put a collectivist spirit in the air as a result of serious class struggles for union recognition in some a massive strike wave in 1934, a turn by the Communist International toward the popular front and alliance with previously ignored or despised bourgeois and petty bourgeois elements, some hunger actors and related cultural workers, AND the bright lights of New York and you have the Theater Guild. Its illustrious personal included many young performers who would go on to, if not honorable theater careers, then long ones like Lee J. Cobb and Elia Kazan who made appearances in Clifford Odets works.

As to “Waiting For Lefty” it certainly is a period piece of those times. The subject, a pending strike of taxi cab workers, and how various characters came to class consciousness, or at least of consciousness of the need to struggle against the bosses is pretty straight forward. Except, that the Lefty of the title, a known militant worker from whom his fellows had previously taken their political lead is no where to be found. Or rather is, in the end, found dead, in some back alley from a boss’s thug’s bullet. Lefty may have been the catalyst for action, for developing political awareness, but the plebes are on their own now. The class struggle continues. Definitely, as intended, an uplift kind of play that could use a revival today. If not of the play itself then of the need for class struggle theme behind it.

Note: I would be remiss if I did not mention that Clifford Odets, and a number of other members of the Theater Guild troupe, most infamously Elia Kazan and Lee J. Cobb, when the sunny days of the 1930s struggles passed and the hard Cold War days of the “red scare” came in the 1950s had no problem naming names of those whom they were asked to identify as communists or, more probably, fellow travelers by various Washington committees. Were they, like some of the characters in Odets’ “Till The Die I Die” (also in this book), tortured by some Gestapo-like fiends into submission for that information? Or were they threatened with some other more psychological abuse and being merely mortal could not stand the heat. No, they “sang” just to keep their jobs. Others like Dalton Trumbo, the Hollywood Ten and Howard Fast, brought their toothbrushes with them to the committees and took the jail time instead. While there was (and is) a huge gap between the politics of these Stalinists and ours we honor them despite their politics. For Odets, Kazan and Cobbs we have nothing but scorn.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

*Once More Into The Time Capsule, Part One-The New York Folk Revival Scene in the Early 1960’s-Josh White

Click on title to link to YouTube's film clip of Josh White perfroming "One Meat Ball"

CD Review

Washington Square Memoirs: The Great Urban Folk Revival Boom, 1950-1970, various artists, 3CD set, Rhino Records, 2001


"Except for the reference to the origins of the talent brought to the city the same comments apply for this CD. Rather than repeat information that is readily available in the booklet and on the discs I’ll finish up here with some recommendations of songs that I believe that you should be sure to listen to:

Disc One; Woody Guthrie on “Hard Travelin’”, Big Bill Broonzy on “Black , Brown And White”, Jean Ritchie on “Nottamun Town”, Josh White on “One Meat Ball” Malvina Reynolds on “Little Boxes”, Cisco Houston on “Midnight Special”, The Weavers on “Wasn’t That A Time”, Glenn Yarborough on “Spanish Is A Loving Tongue”, Odetta on “I’ve Been Driving On Bald Mountain”, The New Lost City Ramblers on “Don’t Let Your Deal Go Down”, Bob Gibson and Bob Camp on “Betty And Dupree”, Ramblin’ Jack Elliott on “San Francisco Bay Blues”, Peggy Seeger on “First Time Ever I Saw Your Face”, Hoyt Axton on “Greenback Dollar” and Carolyn Hester on “Turn And Swing Jubilee”."

Josh White on “One Meat Ball”. As mentioned above Josh White, along with Big Bill Broonzy, were among the early forerunners of a more urbane bluesy sound to fit the needs of a more urbanized black musical sensibility (to speak nothing of the young white, hip crowds of the Café Society in New York City). And more upfront about the racially divided nature of this country. The genesis of this song, according to Dave Van Ronk on one of his CDs, is connected with Harvard Professor Child and his researches into the old ballads. However when I first heard it in my youth my association was always with the Greta Depression, hoboes and guys down on their luck. Hell, given the economic conditions today this one is due for a ‘discovery’.

One Meat Ball
(Calvin Russell)


Little man walked up and down,
To find an eatin' place in town.
He looked the menu thru and thru,
To see what a dollar bill might do.

CHORUS:
One meat ball,
One meat ball,
One meat ball,
All he could get was one meat ball.

He told that waiter near at hand,
The simple dinner he had planned.
The guests were startled one and all,
To hear that waiter loudly call.

Repeat CHORUS

Little man felt so ill at ease,
He said: "Some bread Sir, if you please."
The waiter hollered down the hall:
You get no bread with your one meat ball.

Little man felt so very bad,
One meat ball is all he had.
And in his dreams he can still hear that call
You get no bread with your one meat ball.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

*Labor's Untold Story- The "Red Scare" In The Trade Unions After World War II

Click on title to link to basic information about the red scare in the American trade unions immediately after World War II. Needless to say, this is one subject that will receive much fuller coverage later as this series evolves.

This Commentary is part of a series under the following general title: Labor’s Untold Story- Reclaiming Our Labor History In Order To Fight Another Day-And Win!

As a first run through, and in some cases until I can get enough other sources in order to make a decent presentation, I will start with short entries on each topic that I will eventually go into greater detail about. Or, better yet, take my suggested topic and run with it yourself.