Reading the intellectual musings of Suzanne Cesaire, one can’t help but envision her immersed daily in settings complete with Mauritian and Parisian aristocrats, dissecting life’s finer points over well-aged wine and croissants, exhaling elitism with each word uttered. This of course is a superficial summary. On closer inspection, one has to take into account the timeframe, geography and the very author in question. As a black woman living in Paris at the height of World War II, transplanted from her birth country of Martinique, the uniqueness of these previously published articles becomes apparent.
The Great Camouflage is anything but simple. It’s the type of book that would find a comfortable home on the book shelf of a professor of Art Theory or Philosophy. By no means does this make it inaccessible to the larger reading masses. But honestly speaking, most don’t sit around intellectualizing about the arts, culture and the world around them. In fairness though, we all have our moments of passionate discourse.
While grappling with the concept of civilization, Cesaire cites ethnologist and archeologist Leo Frobenius to round out her argument - “No, humankind does not create civilization, no, civilization is not the work of humankind. Quite the contrary, humankind is the instrument of civilization, a simple expression of a power which infinitely surpasses his understanding.”
Again on the matter of the arts, Cesaire references political scientist, economist and moralist Emile-Auguste Chartier to showcase her admiration of the painter - “The painter, through a slow process of strokes and touch-ups, manages to express life – life which itself is also slowness and patience, reversals, accumulations, and changes.”
At a mere 104 pages I feel guilty for not being compelled to plough through this tiny book in one sitting. I blame that squarely on the content. I found myself reading in increments of 5-10 pages every two days or so. It was simply impossible for me to get into any kind of rhythm.
Despite my molasses slow completion of this book, I’m left with great admiration for Suzanne Cesaire. She is indeed an example of one who refused to be defined by the limitations of her island nation of Martinique. As a journalist, intellect and educator, her passion for the cerebral realm lives on through these insightful articles. Both Martinique and France owe her a debt.