In my village, a flyspeck on the map of Pas de Calais, the village Communist has gone crazy on the public posting board next to the church, plastering the thing with pictures of the party’s candidate in the upcoming presidential elections, a woman named Marie-George Buffet.
I’ve seen the guy twice in his little red Renault puttering over to replace posters removed by some nefarious anti-Communist — maybe a supporter of Marie-George’s opposite, Jean-Marie LePen. (French names are designed to instill sexual confidence, apparently; Johnny Cash’s “Boy Named Sue” could run for president here.)
This morning’s Le Monde has a jolly profile of Buffet, noting that the new face of Communism isn’t as glum as it has been in the past, when Communists actually were an electoral threat, and observing that the party’s traditional redness is giving way to a rainbow-thing, with lots of hints of orange. Diluting red with yellow — of course! How apologetic can you get?
Watching Communism and Socialism die these cartoonlike deaths is not without pleasure, but I’ll miss the self-important romantic caricatures of Communists that used to decorate Hollywood’s rewrites of history. In the real world, there are almost no Reds left.
Maybe one day, we’ll see Warren Beatty starring as a weather-worried vegan blogger in “Oranges.”