Carmen: A Gypsy Geography-- A Book on Carmen's Roots and Influence

When I started  Carmen: A Gypsy Geography by Ninotchka Devorah Bennahum in June, I didn't really have time to read it but I made time for it because I was going to see the opera Carmen live the very next day.  I decided that I would read as much of Bennahum's book as I could that weekend.  I believed that knowing something of the history and cultural origins of the opera would cause me to appreciate what I was seeing on stage so much more.  I was absolutely right about that.

                           

First, let me say that I understand that Romani is the preferred name for the people often called "Gypsies". It's what this people prefer to call themselves.  I will refer to them as Romani after this paragraph, but the word "Gypsy" is part of the title of this book, and Bennahum consistently uses that non-preferred term.

On the weekend  that I saw the opera, Carmen, I managed to read Bennahum's chapter about Prosper Mérimée's novella "Carmen" on which the opera was based, and the chapter about the tragic history of the opera's composer, Georges Bizet.  I had a discussion with the friend with whom I saw the opera.  I told him that Bizet died thinking that Carmen was a failure and said "I should have written better music."  My friend is a huge fan of Mozart and other German composers.  For him, Carmen didn't have the musical sophistication that he preferred.  He said that it reminded him of theatrical musicals.  He thought that its resemblance to musicals is the reason why Carmen remains so popular.   Perhaps Bizet wasn't a great composer when you compare him to Mozart or Beethoven, but there is no doubt that Carmen has had some cultural influence.

I resumed reading this book after I had finished with posting reviews in response to requests from authors, publishers and publicists. So I could then read more of Bennahum's perspective on Carmen.

In the chapter about the ancient sources of Carmen, her similarities to Lilith resonated most for me.  I thought Bennahum's effort to connect her to Ariadne was more than a bit strained.

I also find it difficult to believe that the Spanish exclamation of Olé was originally Allah, as Bennahum claims. In a search, I saw this claim debunked in a blog post that was removed, but can still be found on the Wayback Machine at Ole, Allah and All. The post states that the first recorded use of Olé was in 1541 which is a little too late in Spanish history for any relationship to Allah to be viable.

Since I had recently seen a wonderfully effective Black Carmen on stage,  I was very interested in this book's discussion of the commonalities between freed African slaves and Romani in Spain.   Bennahum points out that African freedwomen engaged in the same professions as Romani women, and thinks that they also both lived in mountain caves.  I know from my reading about Romani that they have historically been tremendously concerned with ethnic purity, but I am also aware that there have been Romani who were expelled from their communities because they intermarried with outsiders.  So it seems to me possible that there have been people who are both Romani and African descended. It was nice to imagine that the marvelous Black Carmen that I had just seen, is at least feasible.

 Although there were questionable statements in this book, I also thought there were remarkable insights, and some really great footnotes.  For me, this was a worthwhile read.