Subcomandante Marcos

Subcomandante Marcos, the public face of the Zapatista uprising in Chiapas State, Mexico, relates a traditional Mayan folktale in this bilingual picture-book, originally published in Mexico in 1996, and translated into English in 1999. The story of how colors came into the world, it follows the gods - but not, as the narrator informs us, the original gods who created the world - as they become bored with the ubiquitous black, white and gray all about them, and set out in their various ways show more to create brighter hues. Discovering red through one of the god's spilled blood, and blue through another god's ascent to the heavens, they slowly gather a collection of beautiful colors, which they then disperse throughout the world. As a reminder of the diversity of colors to be found in creation - and more obliquely, of the diversity of ways of seeing and thinking - the gods then paint the macaw every shade under the sun, making it into an emblem of their great work painting the world.

I understand that there was some controversy surrounding the publication of The Story of Colors/La Historia de los Colores - apparently the National Endowment for the Arts withdrew their initial support for a bilingual edition, in light of its author's controversial status as an insurgent - so I am particularly glad that it was eventually made available to English readers! A lovely pourquois story explaining the origin of color, as well as a teaching tale emphasizing the beauty of diversity, it boasts some beautiful (and very colorful) artwork as well. I particularly liked the contrast between the scenes occurring in the black and white world, which naturally enough were accompanied by stark black and white artwork, and those occurring after color entered the world. Parents might want to screen this beforehand, as there are repeated references to love-making - nothing graphic, it's just mentioned naturally in the narrative - but with that caveat aside, I would recommend this one to folklore enthusiasts young and old. show less

The usual plot synopsis with which I start my reviews is almost impossible to provide in this instance. The chapters alternate between Marcos’ story and Taibo’s. Marco’s chapters are narrated by a variety of characters including Elias Contreras, a detective in the Zapatista movement and who investigates missing persons cases (among other things) and a gay Filipino mechanic with a skinhead haircut. Taibo’s chapters feature his most well-known character: independent (private) detective show more Héctor Belascoarán Shayne who is asked by a ‘progressive official’ to look into some messages being left on his answering machine by a man he once knew but whom he believes died in 1969. Eventually the two stories collide when a person known only as Morales is sought by both investigators. That is about as much detail I can provide without getting terribly surreal.

Because the book is utterly absurd. It isn’t any of the things you might look for in a mystery novel. Much of it is narrated by a man we know to be dead, some stretches talk about the book itself being written (in the same way that some TV characters break the ‘fourth wall’ and talk to the camera), there really isn’t a linear progression or a single story and much of the action seems completely irrelevant to anything else. Despite all this, or maybe because of it, I did enjoy the book. Or at least the first half of it.

Not that I’ve ever given it a moment’s thought before now but if I had done I doubt I would have presumed that a leader of a revolutionary army would be a closet comedian but Marcos has missed his calling. Most of his part of the story is told from Elias’ point of view who is somewhat plodding investigator who recounts the events he is involved in with an almost childlike naivety. It’s a bit gimmicky but genuinely funny too and his innocence provides a good device for explaining things that most readers won’t, presumably, know much about such as the mechanics of running a revolutionary group.

However at a point about half-way through the book Marcos’ chapters switch into political diatribe mode which is where my interest dipped severely. There are pages (and pages) of mini-essays about the search for bad and evil which, you’ll not be surprised to learn, is generally discovered to be the fault of George W Bush or the American DEA or the CIA or a handful of the other entities that the left traditionally blames for the world’s ailments. As always I find it tiresome to be lectured at in my fiction regardless of how much I might concur with the sentiments expressed but I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised given one of the authors is a left wing revolutionary and there’s a very prominent pull-quote from [a:Naomi Klein|419|Naomi Klein|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1206848797p2/419.jpg] on the copy I read.

That glaring annoyance aside there was still plenty to enjoy here. Taibo’s character, the one-eyed, limping, coke-drinking Héctor Belascoarán Shayne is superb. Who can’t love a man who says of a poem Now that was a real poem, one of those that grabs you by the nuts and squeezes softly until the pain becomes an idea? I’ll definitely be seeking out a book featuring him written by Taibo alone. And although I won’t claim to have understood all the local or political references (I’d have been lost without google) I did get the sense that the book accurately depicts a version of Mexico that is very real for many people.

I’m not sure I can recommend this book to everyone as I know some would find it unfathomable or frustrating and can even imagine that if I had read this book at a different time in my own life I might have dismissed it as drivel. But if you are the type of reader who can suspend a need for order and sensibleness, or are looking for a book that provides an almost tangible sense of its geographical and political setting then I would suggest tracking down a copy (my local library had one which I found pleasantly astonishing). The closest comparison I can think of is that it’s a bit like a David Lynch movie, only with humour. show less

The Zapatista Call for Change from Below

The Other Campaign is a collection of texts – in English and Spanish – by Subcomandante Marcos and his Zapatista compañeros that articulate a vision for “change from below,” a call to create social change outside and beyond the limits of electoral politics. Rather than depending on what they experience as an irreparably corrupt and out-of-touch political system, the Zapatistas are calling for change to come “from below,” from the power show more that will be unleashed when unrepresented and marginalized communities join forces.

The book includes a recent interview with Marcos, speeches made by Zapatista commandantes, as well as the full text of the Zapatistas’ “The Sixth Declaration of the Lacandón Jungle,” a collective statement that places the indigenous struggle for democracy in its historical context and articulates an evolving vision for democracy, dignity, and justice. "The Sixth Declaration" was released to the world in September 2005, putting out a call to all Mexicans and to marginalized groups around the globe, inviting them to join in a network of solidarity.

The Other Campaign is the living voice of revolutionary struggle in Mexico today – a passionate and powerful call for the creation of “one world in which many worlds fit.” More than ten years after their emergence as a compelling new voice, the Zapatistas continue to inspire and bring together individuals and groups around the world who believe that “another world is possible.”

"We want to tell all who are resisting and fighting in your own ways and in your own countries that you are not alone. Though small in number, we, the Zapatistas support you. We want to share what we've learned from our own struggles so that our experiences can help further your own work. We want the people of Latin American to know that we are proud to be part of the larger fight for justice. We remember quite well how the continent was illuminated some years ago by a light called Che Guevara, as it had previously been called Bolivar, because sometimes the people take up a name in order to say they are taking up a flag."

"We want to tell the people of Cuba, who have now been on their path of resistance for many years, that you are not alone, and we do not agree with the blockade. We are going to send you something, even if it is maize, to help your resistance. We want to tell the people of North America we know that your government does not speak for the many citizens who are in solidarity with the struggles of other countries. We want our Mapuche brothers and sisters in Chile to know that we are watching and learning from your struggles. To the Venezuelans, we see how well you are defending your sovereignty, your nation’s right to decide its future. To the indigenous brothers and sisters of Ecuador and Bolivia, you are giving a good history lesson to all Latin Americans, because you are, indeed, putting a halt to neoliberal globalization. To the piqueteros and to the young people of Argentina, we want to tell you that we love you. To those in Uruguay who want a better country, we admire you, and to those who are sin tierra in Brazil, we respect you. And to all the young people of Latin America, what you are doing is good, and you give us great hope." – from the Sixth Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle

"Marcos is the voice for many voices. His words, fashioned from humor and poetry, reveal the deep roots and abundant branches of the Zapatista insurrection in Chiapas. It is an original language for an original movement that is transforming Mexico and is helping to change the world." – Eduardo Galeano

"Reading The Other Campaign changed my life. Fabulous." – Bernardine Dohrn, former member of the Weather Underground, co-editor of Sing A Battle Song The Revolutionary Poetry, Statements, and Communiques of the Weather Underground, 1970-1974 show less

This exhilarating collaboration fuses the vast talents of the world's most literary revolutionary and its most politically savvy detective novelist. Replete with up-to-the-minute references to Mexican politics, the novel was first published in weekly installments in La Jornada, the Mexico City newspaper that for 11 years has been Subcomandante Marcos's primary outlet in the conventional media; its conclusion appeared on February 20 of this year. Written alternately by the authors, who had show more only sporadic contact, the chapters were each complete in just a few days. Despite the peculiar working conditions, the story flows and often soars. Taibo's familiar Mexico City detective, Héctor Belascoarán Shayne, joins forces with a Zapatista investigator to track some villains whose misdeeds are emblematic of the crimes of the Mexican government in its treatment of dissidents during the "dirty war" and its more recent repression of indigenous groups in Chiapas. The chapters written by Marcos, while earnestly serious about the issues they address, are often hilariously unconventional: some of his characters know they're in a novel, and many poke fun at Marcos himself, who is a key character in the book. Taibo's expertise in the genre paces the story and keeps it grounded. The essential compatibility of these writers, as each astutely riffs on themes suggested by the other, maintains the work's integrity. Another unifying element is their shared regard for Manuel Vázquez Montalbán, the recently deceased Spanish master of the novela negra, who was a friend of both; he and his detective, Pepe Carvajal, appear throughout. The publication of this rich text is a literary event. Ardently recommended for all libraries and bookstores. show less