a Arts/Review WOMEN OF SMOKE. By Marjorie Agosin. Translated by Janice Molloy. Williams-Wallace Publishers, 1989. $12.95, paper. At the People’s Co-op Bookstore. In general, dictatorships instill in a woman a feeling of belonging; they wel- come her as a reproducer of the great human specie. Nevertheless, the woman who creates words and not just children does so in defiance of such governments. — Marjorie Agosin Two years ago I had the chance to interview Rigoberta Menchu, a Mayan Indian who has committed herself to the liberation of Guatemala from oppres- sion. She has seen her father, her broth- ers and her mother killed, and in some cases tortured, by those she opposes. That someone can go through such hell and remain, at least on the surface, a warm and sensitive person imbued with humour, struck me as much as the hor- rors she had witnessed. It was a testim- ony to her strength of character, springing from some deep spiritual source. I have never fully comprehended how the courage and defiance that Rigoberta had could be nourished in the face of such darkness. The book Women of Smoke perhaps provides the answer. A collection of essays by Marjorie Agosin, originally from Chile and a pro- fessor of Spanish literature in Boston, Women of Smoke explores the experien- ces of Latin American women who have refused to be silenced and have taken up a pen as one would take up a rapier — stabbing at the heart of fas- cism. Rigoberta is one of the women whose experiences are chronicled by Agosin. Another is Alicia Portney, who was thrown into the dungeons of the Argen- tinean junta’s prisons along with thou- sands of others who “disappeared.” Alicia survived and her book of her time in prison, The Little School, is a testament to those who did not survive. It is a cry against forgetting, as Agosin in her essay notes: “. .. The final appendix is more chilling than any_literary mani- festo, because here Portney talks of peo- ple who existed, babies born in prison that were taken away by the same jailers who helped them to be born .... We almost hear the steps of Brujo taking the Book honours Latin women of courage RIGOBERTA | MENCHU prisoners to the baths. We learn to hear ~ the screams of torture at night, when Alicia says they will not convert her into an animal.” Agosin’s essays are more poetic than they are studious. This is not a book restricted to, or addressed at, the stifled corridors of literary academia. It is book of emotions, one that tries to penetrate the soul and the source of strength of Latin American women who have refused to be mute before the patriarchal pillars of censorship — whether it comes from the overt oppression of the right- wing or the covert oppression of male “progressives” who feel that political change is led by men. Another essay tells of Frida Kahlo, the great Hispanic artist who, despite her talents, is known more for having lived with Diego Rivera and Leon Trotsky than for anything she ever painted. It is a moving essay about a woman who in her illness faced death every day yet persevered and through her art demanded the right to create and to be seen: “Kahlo’s pictorial contribution not only resides in her majestic technique and balance of colours and forms, but also in the narratives of her life that reflect the history of women. Finally, she dared to speak with an unequalled clarity about miscarriages, fetuses and uncon- sumed lives. Frida Kahlo gives us life, because she was born dying and created dying. She created a mode of painting that, by focusing on the artist herself, teaches us to examine ourselves.” Women of Smoke is more than a trib- ute to Latin American women who have refused to be censored — it a reminder that in the face of injustice, silence is a weapon of oppression. — Paul Ogresko Whitman enlivens, but Beautiful Dreamers suffers blandness BEAUTIFUL DREAMERS. Starring Colm Feore, Wendel Meldrum, Rip Torn. Written and directed by John Kent-Harrison. Tele- film Canada with the Ontario Film Devel- opment Corp. and the National Film Board. At Famous Players theatres. Pretty boring lot, those Canadians. All that sitting around in starched collars dis- cussing safe subjects and playing cricket on the green. A repressed, transplanted British culture afflicted by “‘a secret, silent loathing and despair,” as Walt Whitman might put It. People like that could use a little foreign influence to get the old juices of SPOQUEY flowing. Maybe that’s the theme of Beautiful Dreamers, a dramatization of the experien- ces of Dr. R.M. Bucke when he became superintendent of the London Asylum for the Insane in London, Ont. in 1880. Or is this film about challenging a medieval style of treatment for the mentally impaired? It could be abouf both, but somehow this film concerning the meeting and subsequent friendship between Bucke and Walt Whit- man, America’s celebrated poet of natural- ness and non-conformity, never quite finds its focus. Beautiful Dreamers starts out well. After the opening credits roll the scene crystallizes into wooden slats through which we see a man, his face contorted in private agony. The camera pans back to show a wooden cage wheeled through dimly lighted corri- dors. The man within is lifted out and placed on a restraining bed, his hands encased in leather gloves affixed to cables attached to the ceiling. Welcome to mental health care as prac- ticed in the 1880s. Newly appointed superin- tendent Bucke (Colm Feore) views the scene with apprehension, but can only tell the patient, weakly, “I guess it’s for your own good.” But Bucke has his own ideas. He believes the path to alleviating mental distress is through appealing to the patients’ feelings. Attending a conference in Philadelphia, Bucke is shocked to find the same hideous methods — electroshock therapy, the ex- traction of women’s ovaries — are revered in the U.S. Angrily, he tells the assembled doctors his paper on the human nervous system would be wasted on them, and stomps out of the conference hall. Correction: We erred the other week when we indicated the events of Central America Week were sponsored solely by the Canada-Honduras Information and Support Association (CHISA). In fact, CHISA was only one of several co- sponsors which also included the Gua- temala Human Rights Commission, the Vancouver Salvador Refugee Association and several other organizations. Our apologies. SR Tae Concerts: Canada’s premier cowpoke balladeer — and long-time folkie for that matter — Ian Tyson plays the Vancouver East Cultural Centre for four nights next month. The concerts aren’t until May 27- 30, but since May 27 is already sold out, we felt it best to get the word out fast. Perfor- mances begin at 8 p.m. Phone 254-9578 to reserve. Co-sponsored by the Cultch and the Vancouver Folk Music Festival. Also in concert at the centre is Rory McLeod, British topical songwriter, on Monday, April 9, 8 p.m. Tickets are $12, Radio birthday bash phone 254-9578. Meanwhile the Rogue Folk Club pres- ents Canada’s “neo-celtic greats,” Tama- rack at the W.I.S.E. Hall, Saturday, April 7, 8:30 p.m. Tickets $9, $6 members. Vancouver’s Co-op Radio has been marking its 15th anniversary with the Big Bash birthday celebration this month. Topping that off is a fundraising concert at The Commodore on Friday, April 27,9 p.m. Feaxtured are Canadian artists, including Bim, Ferron, Stephen Fearing Band, Shari Ulrich, Bruce Miller and several others. Tickets are $18 advance (Black Swan records, Highlife records), or $20 at the door. * * * Cheap vinyl and tape are offered by the Vancouver Folk Music Festival’s Festival Records. Recordings include several Latin performers, notably Nicaragua’s Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy and Mancotal, Grupo Igni Tawanka, and Cuba’s Silvio Rodriguez. LPs, not available in all for- mats (check carefully) run $6 or $7, or three for $16. Phone 879-2931. * * * Movies: The Vancouver East Cinema presents Greek director Theo Angelopou- los’ latest film, Landscape in the Mist on the week of Friday April 6-Thursday, April 12, 7:30 and 9:30 p.m. * * * Tube: A dramatization of the life of Soviet writer Boris Pasternak, shot on location in the USSR, is featured on Seat- tles KCTS public TV. Pasternak airs Monday, April 9, 9 p.m. and Thursday, April 12, 3 a.m. Knowledge Network presents, on Equi- ox, “Spy Tech,” an examination of the satellites, computers and other hardware, comprising the world’s high-tech espion- age systems, on Wednesday, April 4, 9 p.m. 10 « Pacific Tribune, April 2, 1990 ae One spectator views this scene with obvious approval. Following the doctot outside, the poet Walt Whitman (Rip Torn, hidden behind whitmanesque long white hair and beard) introduces himself and con vinces Bucke to accompany him to examine the poet’s mentally impaired brother at the family home in Camden, N.J. The trip is more an education for Bucke,_ : however. He sees how Whitman effectively treats his unfortunate brother with love, and learns, under the persuasion of the warm and caring poet, to overcome self deprecation at his own handicap: one foot is toeless, the result of a childhood attack of frostbite, which forces Bucke to walk witha — leg brace. Bucke’s transformation is noting short of miraculous. When his wife and daughte greet him at the train station, they meet unshaven, grinning man who has shed hi confining suit and tie, who kisses his wife full on the mouth and introduces the family _ to their new house guest. Whitman h come to Canada to help Bucke institute new program at the asylum. American actor Torn plays the famed author of Leaves of Grass effectively, cap- turing the straightforward, almost}decep- tively simple honesty of: the’ man who opposed early manifestations of U.S. impe- rialism like the Spanish-American War. Beautiful Dreamers works best in the Whitman scenes, because he is such a neces- sary antidote to the affliction of tight- assedness. Reciting his poetry to a Sunday gathering or bathing naked in a southern Ontario quarry pond, Whitman is an Amer- ican import that means us no harm and can even do us some good. This movie scores some points too on the theme of sexism. A farm wife, raving and attired in the tattered remains of her wed- ding dress, is brought to the asylum. Her “cure” consists of slaps in the face with wet towels administered by a zealous psychia trist of the old order. But it doesn’t take much for the audience to diagnose the cause of the malaise. The | woman has been worked from dawn to | dusk by an insensitive husband who views his wife as part of the chattels. On the same tack the film makes cursory explorations into the life of quiet despera tion suffered by Bucke’s wife Jesse (Wendel, Meldrum). She is confined, as surely as by | her corset, by a straight-laced moral code | that demands decorum and submissiveness. Slipping into alcoholism, Jesse is told thai her problems stem from her woman’s anat omy. These scenes don’t work, however, partl because Meldrum sleepwalks through thi role of Jesse and because the film get trapped in its own depictions of the stiflint social world of 19th-century middle-clas Ontario. Repressed its characters may bé but if there is to be any hope they cai transcend what Whitman calls the “secret } silent loathing and despair,” there must beé . spark of passion behind the manneret facade to work with. In Beautiful Dreamers’ costumed draws} ing room scenes, we never see it. It’s as Whitman’s challenge to conventionality, hi impassioned plea to people to let their inhi bitions go and live life to the fullest, fails t move the filmmakers themselves, whose tot frequently timid examinations of societ! and madness make the alleged nation blandness seem an historical heritage. — Dan Keetot