History | Stacy Cohen

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Responsibility and the Unattached Male

January 22nd, 2010 by Stacy Cohen

If asked to explain why poor nations are poor and rich nations are rich, you’d probably be able to list of any number off contributing factors:

An abundance or lack of natural resources
Free enterprise vs. planned or dictatorial economies
Exploitation by stronger nations via “free trade”
Much more controversially, you might cite education or differences in tested IQ averages.

What you likely wouldn’t cite is the most basic of social structures: marriage, or the relationship between men, women, and families within the society. But that’s exactly what George Gilder argued is the most fundamental cause of either poverty or prosperity within a society. And whether you agree with it or not, it’s a fascinating argument.

In fact, the book in which Gilder published this argument, Wealth & Poverty, became a New York Times best seller and declared a Capitalist (and specifically a supply-side capitalist) manifesto that became an intellectual cornerstone of conservative ideology during the 80s. In a very brief nutshell and a very loose paraphrase/summary, here’s part of what Gilder claimed:

Men are brought to responsibility and maturity through marriage and fatherhood. It is their commitment to family that changes them – and in turn changes the society around them – from operating on a short term and wasteful timescale – to a longer term, providential, and ultimately prosperous mindset. When you break up the family and you let societies’ tenor and tempo be dictated not by intact families, but by unattached males, you end up with incredible waste, entrenched poverty, and a cycle of un-fathered children becoming absent fathers (or single mothers) themselves.

Not the most politically correct train of thought, for sure. But I think anyone would see the nascent “family values” platform being built upon that argument.

And while Gilder’s broad outlines don’t necessarily hold true for all individuals, most people personally know more than a few perfect examples of what Gilder terms “unattached males” – the kind we all hope will grow out of it and into some kind of solid relationship.

Actually, at the beginning of my novel, The Last Train from Paris, my hero fits this mold painfully well. Jean-Luc is an unemployed artist, womanizer, and, well, something of a rogue (albeit a good-natured rogue). He actually makes fun of his friends for holding down a job in almost the same breath in which he flaunts his latest sexual conquests.

Then, following Gilder’s pattern, he is brought to maturity – and economic maturity as well – through the influence of the women in his life. At first it is the tears of his landlady and de-facto mother, Madame Cordier, which motivates him to get a job. This scene even forms the basis of a whole chapter: “Madame’s Tears.”

Later, it becomes the love of Natasha, the love of his life, actually, which forces him to grow still more responsible, not only to his immediate family, but to the greater good of his country as well – that never would have happened without Jean-Luc moving out and away from his unattached bachelor days.

I can see why some people might think this sounds a bit too conveniently conventional, but is it too far off to say that every good man actually needs a good woman in order for him to become a good man? That men need a partner to put away his more impulsive and notional pursuits in order to build something more permanent and lasting?

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Economics, Family Values, George Gilder, Responsibility and the Unattached Male, Wealth and Poverty
Posted in Books, History, Last Train From Paris, Philanthropy | 5 Comments »

The Man Who Would Be Stalin

January 10th, 2010 by Stacy Cohen

One of the fun parts about writing an historical novel is researching historical figures and then weaving historical figures into the plotline. Some are the kind you wish you could have met. And some are monsters you’re sorry anyone had to meet.

Since The Last Train from Paris featured a Russian ballerina living in occupied France, I did some research on pre-WWII Russia, looking for characters. During that search I learned about Lavrentiy Beria:

Leader of the NKVD, conducting “The Great Purge” of Russia
Scourge of the NKVD – leading an interior “purge” within the NKVD
Protégé of Stalin’s
Self-claimed murderer of Stalin
Key instrument in the creation of the Soviet’s first nuclear bomb
Last major road-block to Khrushchev’s ambition

Quite the biographical bullet points, aren’t they? So here’s the larger story:

Beria rose to power within the Georgian secret police through absolutely ruthless behavior, and then set a precedent for himself by executing 10,000 people in putting down the Georgian Nationalist Uprising.

Meeting opposition, either real or anticipated, with mass murder and strategic execution was one of Beria’s hallmarks. As an early ally of Stalin’s, Beria ran the soviet purge of counter-revolutionaries in all of the caucuses. When Stalin brought Beria to Moscow in 1938 and placed him as the deputy head of the secret police, or NKVD, Beria ran the purge of Russia proper. And this is the point in time in which Natasha would have fled from Russia, during the Great purge, which historian’s have described as a Soviet Holocaust.

Later, Beria was to turn the purge onto the NKVD itself – or more specifically rivals within the NKVD. Later, by using the NKVD and the gulag labor camps, Beria was able to provide the raw labor needed for Uranium mining, as well as to run the spy program which brought the much needed information from US Nuclear Program.

Later, when Beria’s political power base was eroding and he was vying for power in the anticipated post-Stalin era, Beria would turn on his old ally by poisoning (or so he would claim) him. Whether Beria actually poisoned him isn’t provable, but evidence from the autopsy shows that he was poisoned, and Beria was in a position to do it.

In the post-Stalin power struggle, Nikita Khrushchev would eventually have Beria arrested, tried, and executed. As the saying goes, he who lives by the murderous politically motivated ruthlessness dies by…

I won’t spoil anything for readers by going into how Lavrentiy Beria becomes a character in my book, but I will say that he has a small cameo appearance, and that his actions have far-reaching effects for the principal characters of the story.

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: History, Russian History, Soviet Holocaust
Posted in Books, History, Last Train From Paris | 6 Comments »

Fake Nylons

January 8th, 2010 by Stacy Cohen

In an era of designer blue jeans and business casual attire, it takes a bit of effort to imagine a time when women almost always wore dresses and skirts, and when stockings were de rigueur.

Back then, stockings were seemed, creating the look seen in these pictures (and almost every movie from the era).

But during World War II, most countries diverted nylon production to the war effort, so there were almost no stockings to be had. Just one of many hardships, similar in kind to the widespread food rationing. But while coffee could be cut with chicory, there really was no substitute for nylon stockings.

And that’s when inventive women of the era “penciled” in the seem on their bare legs with eyeliner and the like. The seem alone was apparently enough to fool onlookers into thinking a young woman was wearing nylons.

This is why, in my novel, The Last Train from Paris, my female “lead” is ecstatic to find out about this trick – and why her friend felt superior for a moment because she had real stockings to flaunt, and no need for this new-found trick.

Again, in an age where a bare (and tanned) leg has largely replaced the stockinged leg for most non-dressy occasions, it’s hard to think about desiring nylons so bad that you’d fake having them (although stockings certainly still have a special place in the hearts of most guys and gals). In fact, I’m really not sure what would make a good modern day comparison or analogy. What would you say it is:

o Blue Jeans?

o High healed shoes?

o Sunglasses?

Actually, living and traveling in fashion-conscious and sunny climates, I might have to say Sunglasses. Imagine that, due to a war effort or a global economy breakdown, there’s simply no more real glass or polycarbonate lenses for sunglasses. The glass is imported and the polycarbonate has to go toward more important things.

Do you think that people might try to create “knock-off” sunglasses just for the fashion statement? Would someone wear low-magnification, tinted sunglasses just for the look? I think some would do it if they had no other options.

What about you? What fashion item couldn’t you live without? What would you be compelled to figure out a substitute for?

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Fashion, Nylons, WWII Fashion
Posted in Books, History, Last Train From Paris, Style | 10 Comments »

American Cheese and Artificial Wine in World War II

December 30th, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

Lots of things were scarce during World War II. Every country involved put the majority of its domestic product towards fighting the war, leaving little left over for the civilians.

It’s why people made due by cutting their coffee with nuts or chicory. And why they’d use wooden soles for their shoes instead of leather. In America, it’s why there was rationing of items like gas, butter, and why American developed a new-found love for American cheese.

Yes, American Cheese wasn’t the brainchild of some marketing wiz but by American scientists looking to make a cheese substitute that made better use of Cheese Scraps, used less Rennet, and melted uniformly when heated. Some people say that Rennet – the group of enzyme that are used to harden hard cheese – was scarce during the war. Some say that America just wanted to reduce the use of imported food products during the war. Whatever the case, the American people still wanted cheese, and processed American cheese quickly became a staple, setting the stage for the introduction of sliced American cheese in the 50s.

And that’s the story behind that little slice of Americana that’s still with us to this day. Which is a lot more than can be said of artificial wine. For much of Europe – and especially for the French – wine wasn’t a luxury to be done without; some ersatz wine substitute had to be made. So here’s what they did:

Rather than crushing the grapes, naturally fermenting them, aging the young wine in wood, the inventive French took grape juice, blended it with sulfites, and mixed it with cheep grain alcohol. Presto, fake wine that sort of, almost, maybe, tasted like the real stuff. Needless to say, the French never drank it if they had any other choice, and the stuff was never produced again on French soil as soon as the war was over.

But, it sufficed for the time being. In fact, in my novel that’s set in occupied France, The Last Train from Paris, my protagonist turns to a few too many bottles of the stuff during a dire personal crisis. And, as you might guess, this method for rapidly imparting an “aged” flavor to immature or too-young wine did find a home in the efficiency-obsessed United States, which is exactly how much of the low-end fortified wine was and is still produced here.

Kind of cool, right? Well, maybe not so much the fortified wine part, but the American cheese part is a neat story. And while I don’t advocate eating too much diary, who can resist the kind of childhood comfort food that a grilled cheese – made out of American singles – represents?

What’s your most vivid memory of American Cheese (or Jug wine if that’s more your style)?

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: American Cheese, History, Wine
Posted in Books, Cuisine, History, Last Train From Paris, News | 9 Comments »

The Infamous Molotov Cocktail

December 29th, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

Almost any insurgent group will attempt to create makeshift bombs, or in current terms, Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs), and the French Resistance was no exception – they created their own bombs along with many other under-provisioned armies, reserves, and civilians-under-fire during WWII.

And the most infamous IED from that era was and is the Molotov Cocktail. In fact, several scenes from my novel, The Last Train from Paris, depict the French fighting back and throwing Molotov Cocktails. So I thought my readers might be interested in learning a bit more about this device and its history.

After watching Germany advance unopposed into Poland, the Soviet Union determined that it was time to expand its empire as well by invading Finland. This attempted invasion and the unbelievably heroic repelling of soviet forces by the vastly undermanned Finns became known as the Winter War. This war marked the birth – or at least the naming – of the Molotov cocktail.

According to historians, the Soviet Foreign Minister, Vyacheslav Molotov, denied bombing civilians and claimed that Russian planes were simply dropping bread so as to help starving Finns. You can imagine the Finn’s outrage. So, the Finnish people darkly named the bombs Molotov Breadbaskets and joked that the gasoline-filled bottles, rigged as makeshift firebombs, which they prepared for fighting soviet tanks, were meant to repay Molotov’s gift of bread with the gift of an alcoholic beverage, hence a Molotov Cocktail.

And here’s a modern day meathead demonstrating how a Molotov cocktail actually looks when lit and thrown:

Finally, here’s a dramatic film clip of how the Finns actually used Molotov Cocktails to overcome better armed, armored, and provisioned Russian troops:

So how effective were the Finn troops in repelling the Soviets? Well, consider that the Russians outmanned the Finns 4:1 and had 218 times as many tanks as the Finns. Given the odds, what would you have predicted? Well, the Finns won out, despite singing a peace treaty that signed over 9% of Finland’s pre-war land to the Soviets. And the Molotov Cocktails were definitely a key weapon in that fight, as well as an enduring cultural touchstone.

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Molotov Cocktail, The Winter War, Winter War, WWII History
Posted in Books, History, Last Train From Paris | 2 Comments »

1940s Fashion

December 28th, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

Although one hears about the flappers and the zoot suits of the Roaring Twenties, and it’s certainly not uncommon for people to pay homage to (or to ridicule) the fashion of the 50s, 60s, 70s, and so on, the 40s are rarely mentioned in terms of fashion, except maybe in terms of military uniforms, bomber jackets, and such.

Perhaps this is due to the “post-WWII” mindset of the fashion industry, as epitomized by Dior’s “New Look,” which aimed to move as far away from early-40s fashion as possible.

And yet there’s a very definite and strong style associated with the early 40’s, especially in women’s fashion. in fact, It’s a style influenced by:

Military uniforms AND fashions
Shortages of fabric, most luxuries, and time for fancy tailoring (for early to mid-40s fashion, at least).
Women’s hemlines rose to conserve fabric
Women wore shorter, boxy jackets for a V-shaped silhouette reminiscent of military uniforms.
Swing skirts were popular for flaring out appropriately during a jitterbug twirl
Hats were popular as they allowed stylish self-expression while using a minimum of resources and allowing multiple uses.
Menswear worn by women. With men fighting (or killed) their civilian clothes became increasingly commandeered by the women at home.

Influences which wouldn’t lead one to think of a fashion high-water mark, and yet, the style that came out of that was often as elegant and classy as any that came out of the more prosperous decades to follow. Here are a few historical fashion photos from the period:

Not bad, right? Even stylish enough to want to copy, which in fact, does happen. For example here are a few photos of me wearing vintage clothing from the 1940’s against a backdrop of the very historical Palace Hotel of San Francisco (a train-station converted into a hotel toward the turn of the century):

While occupied France is hardly a setting that would allow an author to dwell on the fissionability of her characters, I did do a bit of research on the topic in order to get the details right for my novel, The Last Train from Paris, and here a few of the interesting factoids I came across:

Some of the first modern platform shoes were worn in occupied Paris as a result of the scarcity of shoe leather. Wood soles were worn instead and platform shoes are one way of making lemonade out of those lemons.
Nylon (or silk) stockings were so scarce that many women drew a false “seem” down the backs of their legs with eyeliner in order to make it look as if they were wearing stockings.
During one scene, I have my hero’s love interest wear a stole and a ornate hair comb out for the night, as that was the fashion immediately preceding the war, and a girl lucky enough to have those items at her disposal would save them for very special occasions, indeed.

All in all, I’ve really come to love 40s fashion – and not just from my research or from a love of the film-noir look. It’s just one of those little quirks a woman learns about herself, I guess.

But what about you? What sort of fashion eras do you find yourself drawn to? Have you ever bothered to read up on it, or have you ever come across some neat or cool tidbit relating to it? I’d love to hear.

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Fashion, History, WWII Fashion
Posted in Books, History, Last Train From Paris, News, Style | 6 Comments »

What Was So Great About Charles De Gaulle?

December 22nd, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

Most people know that Charles De Gaulle was a French leader of some kind during and after WWII. A few know him as the guy who complained that it was (nearly) impossible to “govern a country that has 246 varieties of cheese.” But you’re average American doesn’t really know exactly what role De Gaulle played in WWII. I certainly didn’t until I researched it for my book, The Last Train from Paris.

To understand De Gaulle’s role, you first have to understand what happened following The Battle of France. Otherwise known as The Fall of France, this battle marked the real start of WWII and lasted just over a month, from May 10^th to June 17^th of 1940. Basically, the Germans routed the French forces, and the French leadership, having lost so much of their army, decided to sue for peace on 17^th of June.

This decision was not without debate, however, many felt that the French should continue fighting and that the government should, if necessary, flee the country and set up a capital in exile, while others argued that the government should not flee France, leaving its people to stay and fight the Germans when the government itself was unwilling to lead the way.

De Gaulle was one of the few French military commanders to experience at least some success against the Germans during the Battle of France. Moreover, De Gaulle was firmly in favor of continuing the fight against the Germans while setting up a government in exile, preferably within one of France’s North African colonies.

And, in fact, when the decision was made to sue for peace and cooperate with the Germans, De Gaulle fled the country. Here’s how Wikipedia describes these events:

“…on the morning of 17 June, de Gaulle and other senior French officers fled the country with 100,000 gold francs in secret funds provided to him by the ex-prime minister Paul Reynaud. Narrowly escaping the Luftwaffe, he landed safely in London that afternoon. De Gaulle strongly denounced the French government’s decision to seek peace with the Nazis and set about building the Free French Forces out of the soldiers and officers who were deployed outside France and in its colonies or had fled France with him. On 18 June, de Gaulle delivered a famous radio address via the BBC radio service. Although the British cabinet initially attempted to block the speech, they were overruled by Churchill. De Gaulle’s Appeal of 18 June exhorted the French people to not be demoralised and to continue to resist the occupation of France and work against the Vichy regime, which had signed an armistice with Nazi Germany. Although the original speech could only be heard in a few parts of occupied France, de Gaulle’s subsequent ones reached many parts of the territories under the Vichy regime, helping to rally the French resistance movement and earning him much popularity amongst the French people and soldiers.”

So, in answer, what was so great about Charles De Gaulle was that he violently opposed the Vichy-Nazi-collaborationist government, and offered the French people hope for real leadership. His words and his actions reached out and inspired his people during many of the darkest days and hours of their lives.

And of course, after the War, De Gaulle was eventually declared Prime Minister, from which position he would later declaim his famous quote: “How can anyone govern a nation that has two hundred and forty-six different kinds of cheese?”

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Charles De Gaulle, The Battle of France, The French Resistance
Posted in Books, History, Last Train From Paris | 1 Comment »

Matisse and The Importance of Mentors

December 21st, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

“Drawing is like making an expressive gesture with the advantage of permanence.”

- Henri Matisse

Early in my Novel, The Last Train from Paris, my story’s hero, Jean-Luc Beauchamp, is employed as an assistant to Matisse. He is to help sketch the pencil lines that will determine the form of a grand-scale gouache painting, a painting that will serve as the backdrop of a ballet performance.

This may seem like a minor detail until you realize that Matisse was a renowned draughtsman himself as well as a master of compositional form. And while both qualities are in abundant display in Matisse’s gouaches découpés, one can see his drawing abilities most clearly in line drawings such as these:

So for Matisse to employ another artist to sketch out the pencil lines is high praise indeed. In fact, while Jean-Luc’s talents were certainly up to the task, he only got the position through an endorsement by a mutual friend and fellow painter, Joan Miró. And while I don’t dwell on this fact within the novel itself, Jean-Luc learns a great deal through his close work with the master painter and draughtsman.

Between the twin influences of Miró and Matisse, and through the emotional journey he undertakes through the novel, Jean-Luc is able to emerge as his own, brilliant painter. And I think this mimics life in the sense that none of us really makes it alone – especially not those of us working in a creative field.

We all need our mentors.

In my life, I’ve been extremely fortunate to have been coached and guided by a number of wonderful teachers and mentors.

My very first Mentor was my Father, who taught me the importance of giving back. I grew up in Texas, and Texans are known for being “do what you say” kind of people, which I take a lot of pride in. You know? “Walk the talk,” and all that. And I think as a result of both my father and just being raised in Texas I had this drive to emulate what I saw around me. So I was frequently a top fundraiser for charities such as The Cattle Baron’s Ball – getting out there and getting it done while also working to give back.

And the thing about achieving those kinds of things – is that it has to be an everyday thing. You have to be involved in the fundraising every day – you can’t only do it when the mood strikes you. That level of commitment makes giving back much more meaningful.

Finally, my husband has been an important influence and mentor who has really opened my eyes to the global need. As Americans we are very giving people, but we also tend not to look past our borders unless something big happens, like a tsunami. But there are people in devastating need every day, but we just don’t hear about it, because their situation isn’t tied to a news-making event. My husband really opened my eyes to that and his compassion and philanthropy have really inspired me. I’m proud to be a part of it.

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Matisse, Mentors, The Last Train from Paris
Posted in Art, Books, History, Last Train From Paris, News, Philanthropy | No Comments »

Prima Ballerina

December 8th, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

Although the term Prima Ballerina is a title commonly day-dreamed about by most young girls, it’s actually something of an antiquated rank that was used back in the 19^th century. According to Wikipedia, the rankings for women, from highest to lowest, were:

Prima Ballerina Assoluta
Prima Ballerina; a.k.a. Première Sujet or Première Danseuse
Sujet
Coryphée
Corps de Ballet

So a Prima Ballerina was the principal female soloist or lead soloist (aka the star of the show). And a Prima Ballerina Assoluta was more of an honorific title used to denote a Prima Ballerina of supreme talent, skill, and accomplishment. It’s a title rarely conferred and almost unused in modern ballet with no active ballerina’s holding the title. As for active or modern titles, ballet companies now use the following titles:

Etoile, with equivalent titles including Principal Dancer, Principal Artist
Premier Danseur, alternatively Senior Soloist, First Soloist
Sujet, alternatively Soloist
Coryphee, alternatively First Artist, Senior Corps de Ballet
Corps de Ballet, alternatively Quadrilles, Artists of the company

In my novel, The Last Train from Paris, my hero’s love interest, Natasha, is a Russian ballerina working her way up in a Parisian ballet company, having already attained the title Sujet, she wasn’t the principle dancer or soloist, but an alternative soloist.

Interestingly enough, though, Natasha had been offered a position in Denmark where it was hinted that she would have a chance to become the Prima Ballerina Assoluta within a few years. And although Denmark is a country known for its ballet, it simply did not hold the same prestige as Paris, so she stayed in Paris as a Sujet with the goal of working her way up to Prima Ballerina. A not uncommon choice many of us make in our own careers – to work up a more difficult path rather than accept faster promotion in a lesser field or market. What about you?

Have you ever had to choose between being a bigger fish in a smaller pond and being a smaller fish in a bigger pond (with more opportunity for growth)? What did you choose and why?

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: Ballet, Career Choices, Dancing
Posted in Art, Books, History, Last Train From Paris, Style | 1 Comment »

The Barque of Dante

December 8th, 2009 by Stacy Cohen

In The Last Train from Paris, the first forged or replica painting that Jean-Luc, the novel’s hero, provides to the French Resistance, is a copy of Eugene Delacroix’s The Barque of Dante. And for those familiar with the work, this provides a clue to a turning point in Jean-Luc’s story.

Eugene Delacroix’s The Barque of Dante marks an artistic turning point itself, signaling the shift from Neo-Classicism towards the Romantic Movement, away from pure clarity of outline and carefully modeled form towards an increased emphasis on color, movement, and dramatic content – all elements clearly taking shape within the painting. Take a look for yourself:

And so it is with Jean-Luc, whose painting has just shifted from self-serving, and somewhat clinical pursuit of art for arts sake, to an outward focused and passionate employment of his artistic talents to serve the greater good.

Naturally, this artistic change was preceded by a similar transformation in his own life – meeting and consummating first real love, and finally lifting himself out of his cocooned and isolated existence to see what was really happening within occupied Paris.

It’s fascinating how changes in décor, fashion, hairstyles and such always seem to mirror – or be mirrored by – changes in your life. A new haircut signals a new job, or a new exercise routine, or even a new relationship. Pregnant women are compelled to “nest,” forcing their homes to reflect the upcoming addition to the family.

I really believe that one of the purposes of ritual or tradition is to better unite these aspects of our lives – our outer expression and inner realities. Which is why it’s important to have both deep, spiritual rituals in your life and to also have your own private traditions.

For me, one of my most important rituals is lighting the candles to welcome in the Sabbath. As Judaism 101 explains:

[Shabbat] Candles should be lit no later than 18 minutes before sundown…

At least two candles should be lit, representing the dual commandments to remember and to keep the sabbath. The candles are lit by the woman of the household. After lighting, she waves her hands over the candles, welcoming in the sabbath. Then she covers her eyes, so as not to see the candles before reciting the blessing, and recites the blessing below. The hands are then removed from the eyes, and she looks at the candles, completing the mitzvah of lighting the candles.”

If you follow the link, you will see that there are other traditions associated with preparation for Shabbat, but the candles are the ones most meaningful for me, since I have the role of lighting them, reciting the prayers, and fulfilling this part of welcoming in the Sabbath.

What kind of traditions have you made for yourself, and how do they help you better integrate your lifestyle with your life?

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Posted by Stacy Cohen Tags: The Barque of Dante, The Last Train from Paris
Posted in Art, Books, History, Last Train From Paris | No Comments »