Monsieur le Commandant

As I have mentioned previously on this humble blog, I am a huge fan of the publisher Gallic Books. Their books are laced with a wry humour and I have particularly enjoyed The President’s Hat, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, the Pascal Garnier novels and the Hector series. It was with great delight and gratefulness then that I was offered an advance copy of their latest book Monsieur le Commandant by Romain Slocombe.

From the outset it was clear that this would not be similar to Gallic’s usual offerings in regards to tone and subject. Monsieur le Commandant is a bleak and at times horrific account of the Nazi occupation of France and the actions of Paul-Jean Husson, an author turned fascist sympathiser and collaborator.

The book is fantastically written and translated and, despite the grizzlier parts, it is a good read. The horror and sheer inhumanity of occupation is conveyed deftly. One of my favourite novels is Alone in Berlin by Hans Fallada which, like Monsieur le Commandant, is not the cheeriest of reads, but which is a gripping account of wartime life. I think it is fair to favourably compare both of these novels as they are both stories which need to be shared so that we can hope the horrors of the past do not return.

I also found Monsieur le Commandant interesting from a cultural and historical point of view. Britain did not have the same wartime experience of occupation and collaboration as France. As such I did find it harder to place myself within the historical context of the novel, however, this is where the quality of the writing shines through, as you are engaged with the basic humanity (or lack of) of the characters as they try and survive both the occupation and their consciences.

So may I recommend Monsieur le Commandant to you. It isn’t the cheeriest of books but it is one which must be read as we forget the tragedies of the past at our peril. You may wish to read The Elegance of the Hedgehog afterwards just to remind you that, although we can be monsters unto each other, there is plenty about this crazy planet of ours which can warm the heart. 

The Fight

It always surprises people when I tell them that I like boxing. One of my earliest sporting memories is going to bed on the night of the second Tyson/Bruno fight and asking my Dad first thing the next morning whether Frank had done it. People think that liking boxing means that you are a bloodthirsty thug revelling in the pain of others with the sport taking such a beating to its reputation that even the exploits of Team GB at the Olympics, and Nicola Adams in particular, are unable to restore some pride back to this sport.

What's so captivating about boxing is that, unlike most other sports, it's not just the boxer's physical attributes that are on display but also their mental toughness and psyche. Take Tyson for example, he was probably the most destructive boxer of all time but had a defence made of glass. Granted, he usually was able to keep his opponent at bay without needing his defence, but when he was on the back-foot he was laid bare.  Look at the infamous Holyfield fight, when Holyfield had the upper hand Tyson blew a fuse and went for the most wantonly violent and despicable response possible. What does the act tell us? What does his shaky defence but awesome offence tell us? It's a psychologists dream. I doubt we'd glean as much insight into a person's character from a iffy backhand from Andy Murray.  

But when you discuss boxing you have to talk about Muhammad Ali. Ali elevated boxing to a art form. If he wasn't outboxing his opponent by dancing around the ring, he out thought them. His confidence and ego were off the scale. Even if he didn't tell us that he was 'The Greatest', his technique would have made this obvious on its own. 

Reading Norman Mailer's The Fight, you are reminded just how multi-layered the sport had become during the 1970s. In many ways boxing had begun to mirror the social fissures exposed in America during that period with the build up to the 'Rumble in the Jungle' taking on political and cultural significance. Ali with his Muslim faith and attachment to the Nation of Islam compared to George Foreman's identification with traditionalist America and the added dimension of the impact of decolonisation on Zaire. The Fight is a readable blend of sports writing and sociology which acknowledges the racial significance of the bout and can almost be read as a historical document of a seismic period of social change.

Mailer's reputation affords him incredibly close links to the camps of both boxers. The highlight of these behind-the-scenes glimpses for me was the late night jog Mailer takes with Ali which demonstrated a humbler side of his personality. What Mailer does best in the book is weave incidences such as this with the action in the ring and the psychology of the fighters and at the same placing the fight within context. It is this awareness of the fullness of boxing which makes The Fight a classic piece of sports writing. 

Finally, may I recommend that you watch the fight on YouTube (http://youtu.be/55AasOJZzDE) In my opinion Ali's 'rope-a-dope' strategy encapsulates how boxing is as much about out-thinking your opponent as out-boxing them. I just hope that the modern day sport begins to reach these heights again soon.