Caribbean Studies ISSN: 0008-6533 [email protected] Instituto de Estudios del Caribe Puerto Rico

Chang-Campbell, Gena Reseña de "Ché´s Chevrolet, Fidel´s Oldsmobile: On the Road in Cuba" de Richard Schweid Caribbean Studies, vol. 34, núm. 2, julio-diciembre, 2006, pp. 250-255 Instituto de Estudios del Caribe San Juan, Puerto Rico

Disponible en: http://www.redalyc.org/articulo.oa?id=39211853010

Cómo citar el artículo Número completo Sistema de Información Científica Más información del artículo Red de Revistas Científicas de América Latina, el Caribe, España y Portugal Página de la revista en redalyc.org Proyecto académico sin fines de lucro, desarrollado bajo la iniciativa de acceso abierto 250 FEMKE BAKKER

studies, places priority on the self-positioning of Surinamese and Antillean diasporas, then this should be interpreted as a welcome to the much needed autochthonous recount of Dutch Caribbean history and its transatlantic legacy.

Femke Bakker [email protected]

Richard Schweid. 2004. Ché’s Chevrolet, Fidel’s Oldsmobile: On the Road in Cuba. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. 256 pp. ISBN: 0-8078-2892-0. f the Cuban Revolution holds inexplicable fascination, then Iits history and current reality as seen through the lens of a well-informed classic car enthusiast is a delectable read indeed. In Ché’s Chevrolet, Fidel’s Oldsmobile: On the Road in Cuba, Richard Schweid carefully and masterfully weaves the myriad stories com- prising Cuba’s patrimony amidst a gritty and well-balanced look at the history of automobile culture on the island. Presented in a pleasant, reader-friendly format, Schweid’s book is reminiscent of that one fantastic history professor that every lucky arts student encounters: it teaches much while the audience actually enjoys the journey. On the very first page of Schweid’s “curriculum,” he introduces the subject with a flair and style that continues throughout: “Numerous North Ameri- can heroes of the Cuban Revolution, however, remain unsung, and they do have brand names—names like Chevrolet, Ford, Studebaker, Chrysler, Rambler, Cadillac, Plymouth, Dodge and Buick. Unsung, but not unknown, they have served the Revolu- tion tirelessly, and continue to do so on a daily basis, carrying its loads, transporting its people” (p. 5). From such an introduction, the cautious reader may become wary, fearing an overly glorified personification of the automobiles at the expense of the more important stories to be told, those of the Cuban people them- selves. Within a few pages, such anxieties are assuaged; Schweid’s analysis swiftly delves beneath the surface veneer, recognizing and

Caribbean Studies Vol. 34, No. 2 (July - December 2006) RESEÑAS DE LIBROS • BOOK REVIEWS • COMPTES RENDUS 251 relating the various struggles, contradictions and positive effects both directly and indirectly related to cars in Cuba. Beginning with the arrival of the “Locomobile” to Santiago de Cuba in 1902, Schweid chronicles, in colorful detail, the socio- economic impacts of each type of imported automobile. Often including authentic anuncios (advertisements) that bring us into closer contact with the consumer tastes and demands of pre-Revo- lutionary Cuba, great pains are taken to paint a vivid picture of each Cuban city or province that imported a significant number of North American autos. Apart from geographical/physical descrip- tors (which are very important to his discussion of the types of cars that were popular in specific regions and why), he also provides vital population statistics to present a complete, multidisciplinary analysis with wide-ranging appeal. One need not be a car enthu- siast nor a Cuba buff to grasp the subtle messages and sociology lessons Schweid offers, as he transforms and transmits thoughtful analysis with the help of famed Adalberto Roque’s photographic talents. From its first contacts with Cuba, says Schweid, the function- ality of the automobile (car-as-transportation) superceded its aesthetic quality (car-as-beautiful-possession). The daily needs of Cubans across the island dictated which models were purchased most and how they were subsequently driven. The longest-stand- ing use of vehicles all over Cuba is as some form of taxi, especially for the purpose of moving bodies to and from work and school. The caption beside a photograph of a fleet of new Ford Model Ts reads: “The ten Fords purchased by Ernesto Carricaburu in 1914 for Havana’s first taxi fleet represented the largest number of cars imported into Cuba at the same time up until that date” (p. 33). In the years that followed, right up to the present day, cars in Cuba were/are usually designated to the utilitarian cause of moving folks from one place to another. While many are simulta- neously ruteros (run along predetermined routes) and cacharros (Cuban slang meaning “jalopy”), a few are well-preserved “classic cars” whose quaint charm affords them the luxury of being driven

Vol. 34, No. 2 (July - December 2006) Caribbean Studies 252 GENA CHANG-CAMPBELL

far less frequently on better roads with less weight and freight (i.e. well-to-do tourists) than their rutero compatriots. It is these Cadil- lacs, Studebakers, etcetera that draw the interest of automobile collectors, luring them (and their foreign exchange!) to purchase the jewels of antique North American autos. Apart from the vivid discussions and descriptions of how and why various makes and models were used in day to day circum- stances, Schweid (as mentioned earlier) also brings to life the Revolution under the uniquely original auspices of the vehicles that played essential supporting roles. As the book’s title indicates, there is a fascinating section in chapter five (entitled “Ché’s Chevy and Fidel’s Olds”) that details the fine connections linking certain cars to definitive moments in Cuban history: “It was the lower- priced models—the Chevrolets and the Fords and the Dodges, along with the occasional Buick or Oldsmobile or Pontiac—that carried the Cuban Revolution from its beginnings. Just as they carried Fidel and Raúl Castro and Jesús Montané and Abel San- tamaría to Moncada on July 26, 1953, so in the mid-1950s they moved the members of the 26 July Movement through the streets of Havana and Santiago de Cuba” (p. 146). By contextualizing the automobile within the framework of Cuba’s (in)famous Revolu- tionary history, Schweid lends a special sense of significance as well as expertise to his oeuvre. Though they may be the most lauded, Cuban cars’ involve- ment in the Revolution is not the totality of their importance. In February, 1958, dictator Fulgencio Batista reassured the world that Cuba was a perfectly safe and peaceful venue for the second annual Cuban Grand Prix. His credence, however, was dealt a great blow when famed race car driver Juan Manuel Fangio was kidnapped in Havana the night before the big race by none other than the 26 July Movement. Schweid quotes one of the members: “We are great admirers of yours, Fangio, but the 26 July Move- ment has decided to show the world that Cuba is living through a tragic time of blood and death, and that it is not a time for parties and celebrations. As soon as the race is over you’ll be set free” (p.

Caribbean Studies Vol. 34, No. 2 (July - December 2006) RESEÑAS DE LIBROS • BOOK REVIEWS • COMPTES RENDUS 253

159). By the end of the fiasco, Fangio was released to his family unharmed, and won over to the rebels’ cause. As Schweid narrates to the reader the details of this incredible incident, it’s difficult not to be dazzled by the interest and intensity with which he writes. A more quotidienne example of the car’s role in Cuban eco- nomic affairs that Schweid submits for our analysis is the notion of automobiles providing “unscrupulous” means of extra income for those Cubans creating a “lowest berth” on the automotive food chain: the cuidadores, or caretakers. To illustrate this point, he presents the contents of a letter of complaint reproduced in a 1953 newspaper “car column,” in which a distressed driver complains of parqueadores’ (car parkers) and cuidadores’ discovery of how to make a living without lifting a finger. By including such seemingly insignificant (but truthfully, quite revealing) discussions around the small details of precisely how cars affected (and continue to affect) the means to a citizen’s income, Schweid invites his readers to employ a broader framework of consideration and assessment when taking stock of the diverse array of entrepreneurial positions sprouting from an industry primarily associated with wealth and convenience prior to the Revolution. Perhaps the most poignant thrust of Ché’s Chevrolet is its embedded commentary on the social, economic and political realities that Cubans have lived through and continue to engage with today. The constant battle to survive and succeed within a cold geopolitical climate (the continuing consequence of the brave nation’s unapologetic break with [neo]imperialism and [post]colonialism) is present everywhere in Schweid’s writing. Yet his distinctive focus on automobiles as the central theme of his book allows for a nuanced, uncommonly unpretentious dialogue around such charged issues, carefully stopping short of relegating them to the backburner or discussing them outside of his subject’s context. His descriptions of classic cars and their enthusiasts juxtaposed with those of ruteros and “everyday Cubans” waiting hours under the searing sun for a bus that may or may not come gives graphic symbolism and texture to the contradictions inherent

Vol. 34, No. 2 (July - December 2006) Caribbean Studies 254 GENA CHANG-CAMPBELL to/in la Revolución; the phenomenal gains tempered by dearth and (sometimes nearly unbearable) self-sacrifice. The foreign tourist situation, for instance, is paralleled by Cuba’s “cultural pillage” by wealthy classic car collectors. As Schweid documents, no one goes to Cuba to buy a cacharro—they go to spend money on a car worth having, a piece of Cuba’s “automotive patrimony” and thus its national identity. Not only do we (as foreigners) demand only the best from Cuba’s warm tourism and intriguing character, we also demand that its products (including the American autos that have been maintained and kept alive only by the love and ingenu- ity of their Cuban owners) be continually distributed according to an unjust tiered system that will always be anathema to what Cuba and Cubans stand for: human equality to its most achievable extent and Cubanidad-pride, strength and the self-identity forged by the arduous journey of la Revolución. His examples of Cuban “car cannibalism” poignantly demonstrate this defining national characteristic; Cuban mechanics learned very quickly how to adapt Russian Skoda and Lada parts to repair aging and ailing North American autos. This ingenuity, this prevalent attitude of “Hay que inventar” is the very fabric of Cuba’s revolutionary existence. The Special Period stretched and scathed this fabric immensely, but a few small (always fixable!) tears were the worst consequence for the fiercely resolute populace. It is this attitude that Schweid’s work highlights and challenges by performing the difficult task of linking American autos to Cuban society, across (Revolutionary) time and (Cuban) space, in a meaningful yet accessible way. In citing these two examples of Schweid’s arguments and style of observation and analysis, I did bypass others due to his somewhat murky sourcing technique. One criticism to be leveled at Che’s Chevrolet is its lack of detailed citations; as vital facts and figures concerning so many aspects of Cuban history are discussed, comprehensive notations/references to works cited would prove extremely helpful to the avid reader/researcher. Although there is a bibliography at the end of the book, Schweid’s readers could be much better served by footnotes or embedded citations; we cannot

Caribbean Studies Vol. 34, No. 2 (July - December 2006) RESEÑAS DE LIBROS • BOOK REVIEWS • COMPTES RENDUS 255 be certain of which facts or statistics come from which source, making it difficult to do further research or verify information. Ché’s Chevrolet intones the enviable simplicity of life in Fidel’s country that is, if truth be told, a touristy illusion shrouding the complexity and contradiction that truly characterizes real Cubans’ existence. As many interviewees attest, the struggle between lofty revolutionary ideals and good old human vanity continues to be waged in the minds and actions of the Cuban people. While the older generation shakes their heads and sighs, the younger one once again turns a curious and impressionable eye towards North America and its capitalist frame of reference for inspiration and satisfaction. As they say in Cuba—and as Schweid reminds us—“No es fácil”—(Life) is not easy—and neither is keeping a ’56 Corvette on the road. But both are worthwhile, and both are what Cubans do every day.

Gena Chang-Campbell Social and Political Thought York University, Canada [email protected]

Luis Miguel García-Mora y Antonio Santamaría-García, eds. 2006. Los ingenios: Colección de vistas de los principales ingenios de azúcar de la isla de Cuba. Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, CEDEX-CEHOPU, Ediciones Doce Calles. 453 pp. Mapas, láminas, mapas e ilustraciones. ISBN: 84-9744-048-X.

odos los amantes del arte y de las ciencias sociales —par- Tticularmente de la historia caribeña— hemos recibido con beneplácito la nueva edición del libro de Los ingenios. Colección de vistas de los principales ingenios de azúcar de la Isla de Cuba que, con texto de Justo Germán Cantero Anderson y litografías de Eduardo Laplante Bureau, tuvo su primera edición habanera en 18571 y ahora ésta, que presentamos, cuyos editores han sido

Vol. 34, No. 2 (July - December 2006) Caribbean Studies