One day when I was attending graduate school I mentioned in class that the authors of both the books we had read that week had both emphasized that they had been college students in 1968, that year in our nation’s history when the world seemed to be falling apart. To my astonishment the professor asked “What happened in 1968?”

That little vignette came back to me earlier today when I came across the documentary short that Chuck Braverman produced for the The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour in early 1969. I had not seen this in many years. One can draw many lessons from Braverman’s minor classic. The one I will draw on here, after our divisive election season, is that the world has always been troubled but that, whatever one believes or wherever one falls on the spectrum, the world is not grinding to a halt. From Harding in 1920 calling for a return to normalcy after the Great War, the influenza epidemic and the riots of 1919; to FDR’s first inaugural in 1933; to JFK’s January 1961 message about being disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, our nation has gone through anxieties of many varieties before today’s times. Breath deep and take in Chuck Braverman’s brief history lesson.

Men of the 165th Depot Brigade on movie night, which may also have included live entertainment performed by the troops themslves

I have spent part of the week researching a project we are hoping will come to fruition this coming Sunday at Governors Island. In my digging I came across this semi-related image of African-American troops taking in a movie at Camp Travis in 1917. It is fascinating on several levels but one thing I find interesting is how aware the entire room is that they are being photographed for posterity. One sees the same phenomenon in pictures of Civil War troops, though in that era photography was still in its infancy. I am guessing that as late as 1917 photography seemed novel to these men. I cannot help but wonder what movies–certainly silent pictures–they would have watched. The original caption hints that in addition to any films being screened there was probably a variety-night aspect to these types of affairs. As a depot brigade these men likely did not see combat in France, but performed the crucial–and back-breaking–function of logistics and supply.

(image/Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, Photographs and Prints Division, The New York Public Library. “Movies!’ Building No.1, Army Y.M.C.A., Camp Travis, Texas.” The New York Public Library Digital Collections. 1917. http://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47e2-08cb-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99)

A 1914 Belgian Minerva crew similar to those depicted in Cafard

I ventured to Queens on the N Train today to catch a screening of Cafard. This animated film depicts the Great War as experienced by a group of Belgian friends and family. The protagonist is Jean Mordant, who we see winning the 1914 world wrestling championship in Buenos Aires at the same moment his fifteen year old daughter home in Ostend is raped by a group of German soldiers at a checkpoint. Eager for revenge Mordant enlists in the Belgian ACM, or armoured car division. As the war grinds on his service takes him literally around the world through various parts of Russia, Mongolia, China, San Fransisco and New York. The war’s reach is sometimes lost on us today, probably because we think of globalization as a twenty-first century phenomenon.

The film logs in at just over ninety minutes. I found the film worthwhile but sometimes a little strained and overdone. Still, I suppose it is okay to be a little overwrought when depicting something as tragic as the Great War. In an animated feature there is also more leeway to exaggerate for effect. One thing I liked about the film is that it captured the world wide reach of the conflict, especially in its handling of the Russian Revolution and its consequences. The film does a good job of showing how easy it is for individuals to get tangled in events bigger than themselves, and how little control a person has in that situation. It is a very unsettling notion. Cafard is not for the faint of heart but if one is looking for a contemporary film that depicts the First World War through both a narrow and wide lens this is a good one to check out. With all its tragedy, it even ends on a hopeful note.

I noted with interest that a chair given to Matthew Brady by President Lincoln is going on the auction block later this month. I have looked at the above image along with several others and cannot make out if this is indeed the chair. This photograph here is of President Lincoln with son Tad in February 1865. It was taken at Alexander Gardner’s studio. The think is, the article says Lincoln gave the chair to Brady in 1864; by that time Gardner was no longer working for Brady. If anyone knows more, I’d like to hear it.

Anything touched by Lincoln’s hand became beatified after his assassination. People understood the significance of the moment even while it was taking place. What is fascinating is that Brady continued to use the chair in his studio to photograph subjects. Indeed four additional presidents posed with the chair in the ensuing years. One can only speculate the extent to which Johnson, Grant, Hayes, and Garfield were aware of the chair’s import. I thought at first that they were using it in tribute to the Great Emancipator, and to an extent they probably were. However, the article in the Daily Mail notes that others, including Robert E. Lee, sat in Lincoln’s seat as well. That leads one to think it was just another piece of furniture for studio use. Check out the great images here. I may have to visit the auction house before the sale on October 26 to see it for myself. I will report what I learn.

(image/Library of Congress)