We have been betrayed, Che! Do you hear? They betrayed us and our cause, turned their backs as soon as it became profitable and handed you on a platter to the Americans, just to keep their jobs. There will be no revolutions after Cuba, people are not ready, they don't want to fight - it's habit, rotten stability and fear. Bolivia does not need a single revolutionary. The superpowers are waiting for a new Vietnam, not Cuba, but it won't work without you. Happy Ernesto Guevara is off the plan, a pointless waste of a valuable resource. You must be alone, you are destined to die. But not because we were betrayed, Che, but because of a woman. If only I could, I would trade my life for yours, Commander. But is there any power in the world that can stop a hopeless lover who decides to die because of an unjust separation? This is suicide, Che... Goodbye revolution, and the unborn doctor!
A lawyer for six years, Jean-Michel Guenassia lives from his pen by writing scripts for television. He published a detective novel in 1986, Pour cent millions (Liana Lévi editions, Michel-Lebrun prize), of which he says "I don't disown it,... but I didn't follow it up, I needed something else", and then put on a few plays, notably Grand, beau, fort, avec des yeux noirs brûlants..., in 2008 in Avignon. His publisher, Albin Michel, presents Le Club des incorrigibles optimistes, published in 2009, as the first novel by an unknown 59-year-old.
A French-born Algerian touches on the stirring events that came with the twentieth century, events that shook the world: two of the most massive, violent and bloody wars, the plague, denunciations, death sentences, revolutions, the Prague Spring and the fall of the Berlin Wall. Let the title of the book not deceive you, The Amazing Life of Ernesto Che is first the tragic saga of Josef Kaplan's family, second the evidence of the formidable changes taking place in the world, and only the last third part of the novel is dedicated to the immortal soul of Ernesto Che Guevara.
I don't think the title of the novel is a lie or PR. It's hard to explain, but the first two-thirds of the book prepares us to meet the only revolutionary. The tragedies and moments of happiness of the Kaplan family have nothing directly to do with Guevara's life, but in the courageous and self-sacrificing Dr. Josef I see the ghost of Ernesto, who chose medicine over weapons, the red cross over berets.
The main character, Josef Kaplan, is an educated and hopeful young man. He may come out of him a scientist, or entomologist, an advanced doctor and even a revolutionary, because he is no stranger to the ideals of the class struggle, the struggle against the exploitation of man by man. Attractive and gallant, he would not qualify for increased interest on the part of women, not rewarded his nature mad sense of rhythm and perfection in the possession of the body. Modest and a little reserved Joseph transforms into an irresistible dancer as soon as the first bars of the waltz or tango are played. The only things that dissolve away in this dance are the melody, the movements and the impulses passing from one body to the other. The only disappointment for the ladies sophisticated in romance is the frustratingly bad memory for the faces of our gore-cavalier. Josef Kaplan very quickly forgets the appearance and the names of new acquaintances, partners and interlocutors, and that is why he suffers a continuous embarrassment and inconvenience.
Let's dot our i's at once, Kaplan was not indifferent to the revolution, but still turned away from the path of activism, propaganda and protests, preferring to complete his education and satisfy his career ambitions, to work for the good of humanity rather than to please his chosen political regime. A happy accident allowed him to take a job at the Pasteur Institute, based in Algiers, and there to come into contact with the study of all kinds of infections. Thus began the journey of this great but humble man. Medicine was the choice that determined the whole further life of Josef Kaplan and made his fate so different, but related to the fate of the revolutionary Ernesto Che.
Would you believe me if I told you that Jean-Michel Genassez is not just a writer, but a real poet. It is not often in modern prose comes across such a beautiful manner of writing, graceful and tugging at the innermost strings of the soul. Reading "The Amazing Life of Ernesto Che" is a pleasure, both aesthetic and mental. The tragedy of the novel does not leave the reader indifferent, the small victories and triumphs cause bouts of hope and legitimate joy for the characters, and the unhappiness recoils in heartache and heartache.
Fiction and reality merged in a passionate and unrestrained dance, performing impossible pas, and there is no way to distinguish who is the leader and who is the follower. In equal rights are quotations from Ernesto's letters, descriptions of world events, everyday life and the life of the Kaplan family and their close friends. One feeling, familiar to you, Commander, remains sober and real. It is rage. Rage against those men who produced the most brutal and unjustifiable phenomena of the twentieth century, those who called for war, who filled and set fire to the ovens of Buchenwald, who separated families, who hanged and shot, who crushed with tanks and covered with denunciations, who betrayed and quarreled people. Rage is the only thing that keeps us from giving up when we have to retreat before more powerful forces, when an invisible foot tramples on the barely lit fire of love, destroying the last hope for happiness. We are left with only rage or death, commander. But you are not alone!
In addition to the gripping biography of Josef Kaplan, Genascia nurtures love more than once in her characters, prompting them to reckless acts, beautiful gestures, and bitter disappointments. Love pierces the pages of the novel, giving off sympathy and empathy for both the protagonist and his children, and, of course, himself, the commander. I'm afraid I won't soon be able to forget the enchanting motifs of Gardel's songs, because everything in this book is like a tango, rushing, intimate and free. The partners change, the music falters and intensifies, quickening the tempo, and the exhausted characters miraculously remain on their feet and continue their rapid counterclockwise movement, against predestination and hopeless peace. Tango is love and war, an insurmountable barrier and a crushing wall, spikes on barbed wire and silk on fabric that covers delicate skin.
The paths of Dr. Kaplan and Comrade Guevara crossed at the twilight of the last revolutionary's life. The Argentinian charmed and conquered Josef, although he was forced to obey the doctor while under his tutelage. In open conversation, the heroes felt an invisible connection and mutual understanding. Ernesto sincerely admires Kaplan and shares with him his pain, which he paid for a decision he once made, for the victory in Cuba. After Guevara's death, many orphans were left behind, deprived of their father's upbringing, support and love. The comandante regretted that his concern for his children's future, for the world in which they would live, had cut him, Ernesto Guevara, out of the present, out of the reality of his sons and daughters. But this was just another stone thrown into the well of his depression. And only one woman could heal Che and bring him back to the path he had left behind.
Love can survive many things: resentment, distance, and even people themselves. But, unfortunately, it is not omnipotent; its power cannot break a system, a political regime, resurrect and transfer to another continent. These are fantasies. Love reconciles and sustains as much as it can break destinies and drive self-destruction-it's all up to us. Genasia's characters are far from ideal, each dwelling in their own castle of illusions and harsh realities, but I am proud of the way some of the characters have disposed of their love. They stayed true to themselves and to others. What cannot be said for many historical figures.
The Kaplans will survive, they have a future. And the winds of change no longer disturb, only caress their rare gray hairs. The time of heroes is over. No more revolutions, no more Cuba, no more Vietnam. No more Congo and Bolivia! The world has changed, but not so much as to forget about polarity and the Iron Curtain. Let the children find their own way, let the ancestors who went to earth protect them and let Lady Fortune guide them. There may yet come a time for struggle, but it won't be about us anymore. Revolution is the work of the young. Some will be warmed by the sun, and a new day will bring happiness and dreams, but not those who have been betrayed. Do you hear that, Che? Happy Ernesto Guevara is of no use to anyone. Not then, not now...
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