My Favorite German Authors
Magic Yucatan was written just two years after WWII when the world was still licking its war wounds. The author was a young lady with exceptional literary talents coupled with extraordinary easy-going but inquisitive social-minded insight.
EXCERPT ABRIDGED:
CHAPTER ONE CARNIVAL
I fell in love with Yucatan the moment I set foot in Mérida, its capital. For three months I had been traveling through the interior of Mexico, pushing east all the time. It was an enchanting journey, and in more than one place I felt tempted to stay. But there was always the thought of Yucatan driving me on.
I had intended to travel the last lap by sea in one of the small steamers that ply the Gulf of Mexico. But someone said, "You will be late then for the Mérida carnival."
I had never heard of it, but it now seemed imperative that I should not miss it. I took the next 'plane, and in little over an hour I was in Mérida.
The carnival overflowed the airport. Children in fancy costumes —devils, angels, bullfighters, pierots—or some regional Mexican dress were scurrying about under the very noses of the 'planes. From the terrace groups of society girls waved to us, their faces modeled by Hollywood, their dress a sleek version of the Yucatan costume. A band played, or were there two? Flowers were everywhere, in the girls’ hair, in barrel-like vases on the floor, or flying through the air, aimed at no one in particular. And if more color was needed, the large mural in the waiting-hall lusciously supplied it.
It was all laid on a background of white—the white of the walls, of the airport building, the dresses, the clouded sky, the flat dusty land. A breeze blew in from the not-too-distant sea, enough to make the flags flap at their poles and let the girls’ shift-like dresses cling to their bodies trembling with laughter and gentle agitation. The tropics for once had a May morning freshness, at least at this early hour.
For a while all this confused me pleasantly. Then the porter, a young half-breed, raised my small suitcase stiffly to shoulder height, and asked, "Where to?"
"I don't know," I said foolishly. "I forgot to inquire."
He plopped the case down and I stiffened to meet his rebuff. But he merely pushed back his cap the better to be able to scratch his head.
"Well," he said, "well . . ." His smooth face suddenly twisted into the folds of paternal worry.
He motioned me to sit down and wait. In a few minutes he returned. "Okay,” he said, with the relish of all Mexicans using American slang. It was a joke they shared with their visitors. The few taxis had left by now.
"Carnival. Everything upside down"; the porter shouted to make himself heard above the din of the brass band.
He pushed me and my bag into a station wagon and slammed the door behind me without leaving me time to tip him. A gardenia was lying at his feet. He picked it up, stuck it behind his ear, and grinned at me in farewell, a little cocky and entirely at ease.
He had given instructions to the driver, who took me to a luxurious villa and in turn departed without waiting for tip or fare. A blonde, elegant woman addressed me in fluent English with the grace of a hostess welcoming an expected guest. We climbed a broad flight of stairs, and she showed me a room with damask-covered furniture, adjoined by an American-styled bathroom. Did I want an iced lemonade? I could have a shower or bath any time of the day or night. Lunch would be ready at noon.
I stepped out to the balcony overhanging the garden. Palm trees rustled overhead, imitating the steady swish of rain; through it cut excitedly the clatter of a windmill. Its peculiar noise was to become the leitmotiv of my stay in Mérida. A metal wheel on a grid, the Yucatan windmill has none of the comeliness of the old Dutch mills. They are the symbol of abundance, while the Yucatan mills suggest the dry rattle of a parched throat, "Water, water, give me water!"
That morning, however, I was too happy to listen to it for long. I had arrived in fairyland. And not the least of its wonders was that no one had to carry buckets if I wanted a bath; that the turning of a tap would bring me hot or cold water from an apparently unlimited supply. After the primitive weeks on horseback such sudden ease was magic.
At twelve a bell tinkled and I went downstairs. A large table was laid with old-fashioned silver and delicate china. Orange blossoms looked cool in a glass bowl, ice-cubes floated on the lemonade in the crystal Jug, and fruit piled up on a plate, oranges, bananas, mangos, grapes, a blaze of gold.
My hostess seemed to be the only person in the house. She set dish after dish before me; tomato soup, a steak, mixed salad, ice cream and fruit. When she brought the coffee, she apologized for the simplicity of the arrangements, the poverty of the meal. Both the servants were gone to see the carnival procession in the center of the town, and the three children had also stolen away. Her husband was out on business, but would be back in the afternoon. He would be at my service, if I needed help or advice.
Mérida and the carnival were not what they used to be, she complained, as she walked to and fro. It was now an affair of the common crowd, not, as in the old times, a magnificent show put up by the rich, the decent people. Most of the wealth had been senselessly destroyed in the revolutions. She twisted her mouth in a grimace of contempt and walked out.
Thus I was brought down to earth again. Before long I discovered that Yucatan was like this: enchantment and grim reality always side by side, often even intermingled. It was this contrast which gave its unique, its unforgettable flavor to the entire journey.
This is the best book I have read in years. It is a memoir of the author's experiences from Communistic East Germany, West Germany, and America as they evolved into the 21st century from post WWII. This life story is seamlessly interconnected in a style and method that makes you lament the end of the book.
Excerpts from Dreaming in German:
“The stories about war did nothing to make me feel confident that I could handle such a catastrophe. They left me certain that you needed luck to survive. But luck I already had. I was alive now, after the war, in a time when the world had just learned a lesson it could never forget. Nationalism had been exposed as a curse. Everyone had learned war brought no glory, only misery. I hoped that would be enough.”
“I tried to turn back, but I no longer fit and the home I longed for had vanished along with the child I had been.”
Alexander von Humboldt was an exceptionally brilliant, insightful man. He was painstakingly thorough in his research, and he delivered his monumental message two centuries ago. This one of a kind scientist pioneered his research with an original approach. He saw the need for an ecological balance between nature and mans ever encroaching plunder of new frontiers.
I loved the book’s aspects of discovery, enlightenment, and consciousness. Andrea Wulf delivered Humboldt’s message which the world desperately needs to heed now. This huge volume captivated my attention all the way through and I was sad to see it come to an end...it is memorable!
Author Andrea Wulf writes of Alexander Humboldt:
"During much of his long life, he was the nexus of the scientific world, writing some 50,000 letters and receiving at least double that number. Knowledge, Humboldt believed, had to be shared, exchanged, and made available to everybody. Humboldt ‘read’ plants as others did books – and to him they revealed a global force behind nature, the movements of civilizations as well as of landmass. No one had ever approached botany in this way."
"Humboldt talked of ‘mankind’s mischief … which disturbs nature’s order’. There were moments in his life when he was so pessimistic that he painted a bleak future of humankind’s eventual expansion into space, when humans would spread their lethal mix of vice, greed, violence and ignorance across other planets. The human species could turn even those distant stars ‘barren’ and leave them ‘ravaged’, Humboldt wrote as early as 1801, just as they were already doing with earth."
Many events impacted this man’s life beginning with his mother introducing the Bible into her bed-time stories. He wanted to trust and came away with memories of his foolish heroism in WWI. He wished he could talk to one of the dead and was conscious of the utter finality of their end. He was imprisoned because he would no longer endure the war.
Hitler’s fascism of the 1930s which he found frighteningly lethal drove him and his social conscience to communism.
Joe Stalin’s twisted and oppressive degradation of the Soviet people drove him away from communism to fight Franco’s fascism in Spain, and ultimately he was imprisoned in a concentration camp in France for being anti-fascist.
He and a shipload of anti-fascist refugees from the camps in France were shipped off to the U.S. and refused entry…Mexico took them in.
The following are quotes from The Owl of Minerva.
Regler to his wife: “We could each think our own thoughts, and we would not let this mad, merciless century drive us apart.”
Regler about his wife:
“It is the only temple that has any link with the cosmos." She loved the Mexican pyramids because they were not graves but altars speaking to Heaven.”
Regler relates how the Russian Communists went to absurd extremes to destroy Regler, his wife, and their adopted home in Mexico.
This is a powerful book of an extraordinary man’s struggle through the tribulations of the 20th century. I have read it twice.
Gustav Regler wrote many books. Another of my favorites by him is A Land Bewitched: Mexico in the Shadow of the Centuries. I recommend that you read the Owl of Minerva first.
This is a novel originally published in 1927 it is a stand alone classic...memorable and unforgettable. One of my favorite lines: “Not for everybody.”
Photo credit: By Unknown author - [1] [2] Dutch National Archives, The Hague, Fotocollectie Algemeen Nederlands Persbureau (ANEFO), 1945-1989, CC BY-SA 3.0 nl, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20450793
Erich Fromm, a prolific twentieth century author with and immense collection of profound essays and books too long to list here...a pleasure to read and ponder.
One of my favorite quotes: “Modern man, if he dared to be articulate about his concept of heaven, would describe a vision which would look like the biggest department store in the world, showing new things and gadgets, and himself having plenty of money with which to buy them. He would wander around open-mouthed in this heaven of gadgets and commodities, provided only that there were ever more and newer things to buy, and perhaps that his neighbors were just a little less privileged than he.”
The World As I See It and other essays by Albert Einstein
Physically the book is relatively small, but intellectually it is a giant. I positively loved this compilation of essays with accompanying commentary that give insight into one of the world's most profound thinkers.
All of mankind needs to listen up and be aware of Einstein's scholarly advise.
This book is one of my favorites and the messages within are intense.
I recommend “The World As I See It” only to those who are interested in a harmonious world of peaceful coexistence.
In the introduction to this collection Neil Berger, Associate Professor Emeritus of Mathematics, University of Illinois at Chicago wrote in August of 2010:
Einstein characterized himself as a supporter of cultural and social Zionism, but not political Zionism, thus attempting to stay true to his distrust of nationalism. He wanted the Jews to “solve the problem of living side by side with our brother the Arab in an open, generous and worthy manner.”
Einstein did not have the unquestioned support of the Jewish community in America, and his backing of the Zionist movement was criticized by many who felt that Jews should assimilate to society in America.
The economic and social essays of Einstein reflect his almost wholesale adoption of the current socialist and anti-capitalist views of the 1930s. They were based primarily on his notion of “surplus value of labor.” These views are currently out of favor with the pro-market, capitalist economists of today.
Quote from Albert Einstein:
“This topic brings me to that worst outcrop of the herd nature, the military system, which I abhor. That a man can take pleasure in marching in formation to the strains of a band is enough to make me despise him. He has only been given his big brain by mistake; a backbone was all he needed. This plague-spot of civilization ought to be abolished with all possible speed. Heroism by order, senseless violence, and all the pestilent nonsense that goes by the name of patriotism—how I hate them! War seems to me a mean, contemptible thing: I would rather be hacked in pieces than take part in such an abominable business. And yet so high, in spite of everything, is my opinion of the human race that I believe this bogey would have disappeared long ago, had the sound sense of the nations not been systematically corrupted by commercial and political interests acting through the schools and the Press.”
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