Vive la Révolution!

BY LUCINDA NEAL

History will be made at the forthcoming American elections, when the most powerful country in the world will elect either its first black president or its first female vice-president. On 4th November, a new chapter of political history opens on the same night as one of the darkest chapters in political history, the French Revolution, is played out on the stage of Warwick Arts Centre in ‘Liberty!’

Without the repercussions of the French Revolution, it is unclear if this historic election would even be taking place. One of the most infamous and bloody historical events known to popular culture, the Revolution saw ordinary people rise up in protest over a despotic regime which confined political influence to the nobles at the king’s court and considered the life of a poor child killed under the wheels of a carriage to be worth just a tossed gold coin. The MPs, or députés, of the National Assembly in France fought for the rights of the many to be involved in politics. Whilst slaves, women and men without property were still excluded, important currents of debate along these themes were opened, and the freedom for everyone to discuss politics in public was an important first step. In the arts, freedom of speech was invariably welcomed by those writers, like Voltaire, who had been jailed for their works of satire during the ancien régime.

Clearly, such an upheaval roused intense emotions in those experiencing it. Whether it was the ambition of the early revolutionaries, the anger and bloodlust of the revolutionaries leading the Terror, or the fear of the nobles and ordinary citizens who simply happened to find their lives entangled in the bloodbath left by the notorious “Madame Guillotine”, the French Revolution provoked powerful sentiments. More than that, it changed European society, with the fall of the most powerful European monarchy of the era sending shockwaves around the world. Across the ocean, America introduced its Bill of Rights a year after the French Déclaration des Droits de l’Homme of 1789. The present day United Nations’ Universal Declaration of Human Rights borrows heavily from the proposals drafted in 1789.
The extent of its impact is expressed through a wealth of art by those living through the period, as well as by those so affected by the cultural representations of the Revolution that they felt moved to create their own interpretations. On campus this week at the Arts Centre, for example, we are being treated to ‘Liberty!’ by Glyn Maxwell, who has been given the accolade of, “The best dramatic poet now at work in English,” by the Daily Telegraph. It depicts the struggle of one of these very same artists living through the Revolution in 1793 at the peak of the Terror, upon the discovery that he has been made a magistrate for the ruling revolutionaries, and explores his battle with his old and new life now that he is surrounded by the intense paranoia of the new regime. Maxwell portrays it in a very human light, with “raucous humour” illustrating people’s ability to cope and stay light-hearted, however dire the situation. The story is not new. Originally called ‘Les Dieux Ont Soif’ (The Gods Are Thirsty), and published in 1912, it was a novel by the renowned French author Anatole France. Maxwell’s adaptation proves that the spectre of the French Revolution still haunts and excites us. As the Financial Times so concisely puts it, “Maxwell raises important issues and paradoxes: not least the fact that, in spite of the horror, the French Revolution determined the world in which we live.”

There is definitely no French monopoly on the Revolution, and one of the most enduring visions of it in the Anglophone world is ‘A Tale of Two Cities’(1859) by Charles Dickens, which has since been popularised by at least five film versions. Its success lies in Dickens’ ability to understand the nuances of the situation. A keen believer in social justice, he doesn’t immediately jump to conclusions about the supposed mob mentality of the masses on their killing spree of good and pure nobles, which is the angle taken by Baroness Orczy in her play, ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’. Instead, he skilfully demonstrates the unfurling paranoia of previously liberal-minded men who were so scared of counter-revolution that they attacked anyone who made themselves noticeable, even the vulnerable who were supposed to be protected by their call of “Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité!” At the same time, the real genius of it was bringing his portrait of Georgian London into the picture. Like in Orczy, his London evoked memories of opulence, success, and a political system that had been more democratic than the French for years previously. British readers could feel a subconscious gloating sense of pride, but it wasn’t as vulgarly overt and upper-class as in ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’. Neither is there any question that ‘A Tale of Two Cities’ is far superior to ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’, which was effectively a kind of adventurous soap for the age.

Bringing into focus the tale of good men gone bad, ‘Danton’ (1983) is one of a long line of period films based on one of the most visually recognisable eras. Compared with the propensity of many film directors and writers dealing with this period, it avoids the temptation of going overboard with the bloodshed; although the finale doesn’t disappoint if that’s your thing. At the centre of the film is the feud between Robespierre, architect of the Terror, and Danton, architect of the revolutionary tribunal which was dramatically misused by the Terror. The film’s namesake, who dared to speak out against the tide of events and suffered the consequences, is played by Gérard Depardieu, the darling of French cinema. It is probably one of the rare few films with such a political backdrop of trials and parliamentary debates that actually made it big. Nothing more is needed to demonstrate the magnetic power that the French Revolution has over audiences.

Probably the most ambitious cinematic depiction was the international effort of France, Britain, Germany, Italy and Canada, ‘La Révolution Française’, a French-language film released in 1989 to mark the 200th anniversary of events. Critics panned the film for being too neutral. It seemed to be a lesson learnt in how historical accuracy and objectivity can ruin the narrative of a film by not providing a clear direction. Artistically, the film is perhaps of note purely because it was split into two parts, ‘les Années lumière’ and ‘les Années terribles’, or in other words, before the Terror and after. Even in France it flopped, which says a lot about public opinion of the film.

In more recent years, the director Sofia Coppola has given us ‘Marie Antoinette’ (2006). Although not a revolutionary film, it was a sympathetic rom-com biopic of one of the most well-known figureheads of the ancien régime. With Kirsten Dunst in the lead role, and her co-stars including Jason Schwartzmann, Asia Argento, Marianne Faithfull and Steve Coogan among other famous names, the film aimed not so much to replicate history as to provide a lavish visual feast. The dominant scenes are of the elaborate dressing routines and extravagant parties. In an original take on the genre, the soundtrack uses New Wave and modern rock groups like The Strokes, Aphex Twin, The Cure and New Order, seemingly to emphasise the film’s attempted link between the teenage Marie Antoinette and modern teenagers.

Another female figurehead of the time is ‘Marianne’, the imaginary metaphor of revolutionary France, dressed in a revolutionary tricolour cockade and red cap. Strong yet vulnerable, she has inspired artists through generations to use her image as a celebration of all that is French. ‘Liberty leading the people’ by Eugène Delacroix, a famous image, is one of her incarnations. She holds the tricolour flag defiantly in one hand, a bayonet in the other, as she tramples on the bodies of what are presumably dead nobles, surrounded by revolutionaries. This is the essence of her strength, and also of her aggressiveness. Her torn dress leaves her half-naked, as if she has been violated by the regime which came before. This is France’s other side, her vulnerability, but it has only made her more anxious for revenge. To see this painting, just go to a music store and look for Coldplay’s album, ‘Viva la Vida’. It’s on the cover.

It is apt that my exploration of Revolution-inspired culture stops here, with Coldplay using one of the defining images of one of the most tumultuous periods in history to get their message across, whatever that is. The icon of the French Revolution is such a pillar of popular culture and art for a clear reason: its message transcends boundaries of time and place. Neither will ‘Liberty!’ be the last we will hear of la Révolution Française. Vive la Révolution?