Monument to the First School and a Martyrs’ Lapidar – Proger

To the First School - Proger

To the First School – Proger

More on Albania …..

Monument to the First School and a Martyrs’ Lapidar – Proger

As is the case in many towns and villages in the UK (and also in Western Europe) where it’s common to come across a war memorial (originally for the war of 1914-18/9, the ‘War to end all wars’ but which became only Part 1) this is also the case in Albania. At the time of the National Liberation War from 1939-44 the population of the country was a little more than a million and so it’s no surprise that the ‘Martyrs’ (as they are known in Albania) came from even the smallest places. Progër is no different in that case. What makes the village different is the substantial lapidar commemorating the First Communist Party Cells. This small village, off the main road, also has a Monument to the First School and a Martyrs’ Lapidar.

Monument to the First School

This is located in what would have been the centre of activity in the village at a place that is the closest to a square the village boasts. I say ‘was’ as what appear to be community buildings looked derelict and unused on my visit in May 2015. It’s almost at the top of the village, sitting just above a road that links the community hall, the Communist Party of Albania lapidar (and the Party headquarters) as well as the school. As a consequence of the counter-revolution of the 1990s at the northern end of this road is a mosque.

It’s not a particularly complicated lapidar but even so it has its unique features. There are certain themes that reappear throughout the country but there’s always a slight variation so, in effect, every lapidar is different.

This monument commemorates the opening of the first school in 1908. There are a number of monuments to the pre-liberation struggle for education and the Albanian language throughout the country, probably the most impressive being that in Gjirokaster, but there is also another interesting example in Shkoder. There’s even a post-Socialist sculpture in Korçë, located outside the Museum of Education.

You approach via a flight of stone steps and there are two elements. Sitting on a concrete block at the left hand side and balanced on the lowest stone of the pillar at the right is a concrete representation of an open book roughly 2 metres by 4. On the left hand page are the letters A, B and C (in script) running diagonally down the page from the top left to bottom right. The letters seem to be made out of iron, the weather and time having their effect and underneath each there’s a yellowish stain. Unlike many lapidars in different parts of the country there has been no recent attempt at ‘restoration’.

In the centre of the right hand page is a large marble plaque. On this are the words:

‘Në këtë vend në vitin 1908 u hap shkolla e parë shqipe’.

This translates as:

‘In this location, in 1908, the first Albanian school was opened’.

The words are surrounded by a number of children’s stick on tattoos as well as a little bit of graffiti but there’s no actual damage. What is interesting, when you look a little closer, is the fact that this is not the original as there is another plaque underneath. This also looks like it’s made of marble, but a thinner piece, and all that can be seen are a few centimetres sticking out on both the left and right sides of the present plaque. I’ve come across similar incidences in other places but the exact reason why I haven’t been able to ascertain. Perhaps the original was damaged, either accidentally or due to political vandalism, and it was less intrusive to the monument to place a new one on top of the old. Although I understand (but don’t like) the conscious alteration of some monuments I don’t understand why a monument to an event long before the period of Socialism, and especially when it is linked to education, should be a political ‘target’. I am as bemused by this case as I am about the ‘missing’ red book on the mosaic on the façade of the Historical Museum in Tirana.

The second element is a pillar, which is about twice the height of the book. Although I have seen similar pillars this one is different in that it is constructed of large blocks of stone rather than being made of concrete. It’s slightly wider at the bottom but the majority is of a uniform circumference until just before the last two layer. Here the stones are larger and protrude out towards the right of the monument. These stones have been shaped but not smoothed on the visible edges. This is the opposite to what they represent.

For this pillar represents the barrel of a rifle and the protrusions are the front sight. Though not a common image in Albanian lapidars it is not unknown. Two major examples are the Mushqete Monument in Berzhite (where the rifle barrel is held in a huge hand) and the lapidar on the outskirts of Korçë, at the junction of the road heading towards Bilisht.

The symbol of the gun is a statement that any gains made by the people, in whatever field it might be, whether it be educational, social or economic, can only be really achieved, and more importantly maintained, by the preparedness to use force against all those who seek to re-establish the old order.

Although not as grand as the Education Monument in Gjirokaster the example in Progër is, nonetheless, another unique example of how Albanian sculptors sought to represent the history of their country. It’s also a statement about the importance that education had in the construction of Socialism.

Location:

GPS:

40.69505696

20.93967101

DMS:

40° 41′ 42.2051” N

20° 56′ 22.8156” E

Altitude:

852.1m

Martyrs' Lapidar - Proger

Martyrs’ Lapidar – Proger

Lapidar to the Martyrs of the National Liberation War

The lapidar commemorating the Martyrs of the National Liberation War is about 50m to the north of that to the First School but on the opposite side of the road and down some steps. It’s a relatively simple affair constructed of worked, smoothed rectangular blocks of local stone in a neoclassical style.

This consists of a number of stages. At the bottom of the steps from the road there’s a large, rectangular concrete area with the lapidar sitting in the middle. To get on this level there are three small stone steps on the either side of which there is a very small column on top of which there’s a square capital, with a shallow pyramid carved into the top. At the bottom of the lapidar itself is a plinth constructed of individual blocks of stone. They have been worked to provide a simple decoration, with a gentle curve between the bottom and top flat planes. On this sits a pedestal, slightly smaller in width, two courses high, above which is a narrower curved course. On top of this is a column eleven courses high, again narrower than the section below. It’s not exactly square as the two levels behind the facade are offset progressively on both the left and right sides by a matter of a few centimetres so that the rear is wider that the front.

In the centre of the facade, two courses from the top, there’s a bronze star below which, curving upwards, are (on the right) the leaves of a laurel and (on the left) the berries from the same shrub. The star represents, as always on Albanian lapidars, Communism and the laurel a mixture of glory to the victors, although here to those who did not survive to see the victory, as well as the idea of immortality. Throughout the ages the meaning of the laurel in art has taken on slightly different meanings although all related in one way or another.

One course of stone below the laurel leaves there are two marble slabs, following the same central line downwards. At the top are the words;

‘Lavdi dëshmorëve të Luftës Nacional Çlirimtare’

meaning;

‘Glory to the Martyrs of the National Liberation War’

Underneath that are the names of ten of those from the village killed in the war. All the lettering on these plaques is in bronze. In a way a bit of a surprise as on many of the more modest lapidars the bronze has been looted for scrap but here there doesn’t seem to have been any attempt to steal them. Immediately below the marble plaques is a small, rectangular piece of iron on which there are two further names. This looks though it’s been there for some time as the iron is very much rusted.

This addition of names is not unknown and there are a few reasons for this, depending mainly upon when they were added. In the tradition of commemorating the fallen sometimes the names would be attached to a lapidar at the place of their death and/or their place of birth – sometimes both. But things were not totally organised and names could have been presumed to have been marked in one place when, in actuality, they weren’t anywhere. Locally these omitted names would be added to an existing monument. This would have been the situation pre-1990. If after that date names were added this would normally mean they were the names of other Albanians who had died in the National Liberation War but it isn’t always clear on which side they were fighting. Now the pro-Monarchists are in power they could have been considered ‘martyrs’ even though they might well have been collaborators of the occupying fascists.

The general area around the lapidar is more or less clean although the trees on the right are starting to encroach on the monument’s space. At the very top there looks like there was a terracotta tiled roof, though that’s not completely intact, a few broken tiles and empty spaces visible from below.

Martyrs' Lapidar - Proger - Mosque

Martyrs’ Lapidar – Proger – Mosque

One of the most interesting things about the lapidar is its location. I have no idea what was surrounding the monument when it was first constructed – I would have thought a public park, but I can’t say for certain. Presently there’s a gate at the side of the road and when I visited that gate was locked so I had to around and enter – via the entrance to the mosque. Because immediately north of the lapidar is a relatively new mosque. Recently, when writing about the Martyrs’ Cemetery in Korçë, I suggested the positioning of Christian and Muslim symbols and buildings in post-Socialist Albania was very similar to the attitude and activities of the Catholic Church in Latin America after the invasion of 1492, that is the ‘extirpation of ideology’.

Here we have another example of that. The mosque is obviously much larger than a humble war memorial but by placing it so close to a symbol of the Socialist period of Albania’s past it’s making a political statement – we are now in charge. Another example of this can be seen in the centre of Shkoder where a lapidar to the 27th Brigade is within the enclosed grounds of the Ebu Bakr mosque.

Location:

GPS:

40.695279

20.93875

DMS:

40° 41′ 43.0044” N

20° 56′ 19.5000” E

Altitude:

853.8m

More on Albania …..

Proger – First Party Cell of the PKSH

Proger - First Party Cell of PKSH

Proger – First Party Cell of PKSH

More on Albania …..

Proger – First Party Cell of the PKSH

The majority of the lapidars throughout Albania celebrate the events of the National War of Liberation and those who fought and died in that struggle. Others celebrate and commemorate events in the period of the construction of Socialism but there are few (probably a surprise to many) that are specifically devoted to the Communist Party of Albania (later the Party of Labour of Albania). One such – I only know of one other and that’s on the facade of the museum in Ersekë – is to the First Party Cell of the PKSH in the small village of Progër, close to Billisht and Korçë, not far from the border with Greece in the south-east of the country.

The lapidar consists of a huge, rectangular, concrete block on to which is attached a plaster bas-relief. This concrete mass is sitting on a plinth of large granite blocks. At the extreme left hand edge a large figure of a male partisan sits on a concrete plinth which is set out from the main block but the back of his body is attached to, and becomes part of, the main scenario.

We don’t see all the figure, he’s depicted from the thighs up. He’s staring straight out towards the viewer and his right arm is fully extended above his head, with the fist tightly clenched in a Communist salute. From the shoulder to just about the location of the thumb this arm is separate from the rest of the tableau. At the top of the hand he again becomes as one with the rest of the story.

He’s dressed in the full uniform of a Communist Partisan. This means he wears a cap with a star on the front and around his neck what would have been a red scarf, knotted at the front. He has two straps coming from his shoulders which cross in the middle of his chest. At the end of the strap that goes over his ammunition belt on his right hip hangs a small, cloth field equipment bag. The strap going down to the left, passes underneath the ammunition belt and this is attached to a revolver in its holster. We can see three ammunition pouches on this belt, each containing five bullets. Close to the equipment bag a Mills bomb hangs from a strap attached to the belt. In the space below where the straps cross it’s possible to make out the buttons on his jacket, The pockets on both sides of the jacket, over his breast, can also be seen. His left hand grips the top of the barrel of his rifle. Apart from the barrel we see nothing of his weapon and it looks as if the very top of the barrel has been broken off (a piece of the steel reinforcement sticking out of the plaster).

Immediately in front of his right thigh there’s an indistinguishable lump of plaster. It’s about the size of a football but I can’t think of what it could have been. The fact that it’s impossible to work out what it’s supposed to be suggests that this part of the statue has been the victim of vandalism.

Communist Partisan - Proger

Communist Partisan – Proger

Behind the Partisan’s head are the top three points of a five-pointed star. This suggests a religious comparison as it looks very much like a halo – one of those artistic references which come from previous artistic styles.

Above this star/halo is a larger star, its left most point reaching the left hand edge of the tableau. In the middle of this star are the letters PKSH. This stands for Partia Komuniste Shqiptare – Albanian Communist Party. This is the largest of all the stars on the lapidar. On either side of the uppermost point of the big star is a small star.

As we move towards the right we have two males, not in the uniform of a Partisan, but wearing the sort of clothes worn by workers in the 1940s. The first one is shown with his face in profile, as if he is speaking to his comrade. On his head he has a flat cap and is wearing a long overcoat. Hanging from his right shoulder is a strap and a bag of some sort appears to be at resting against his right thigh. It’s difficult to tell for definite but he seems to be wearing the long socks pulled up over his trousers – as is the case with the Partisan in the Korçë Martyrs’ Cemetery. He doesn’t appear to be armed in any way. His right arm is bent and his right hand is near the lapel of his coat, perhaps he’s making a point by using his hands to emphasise his argument. His left hand is resting on the shoulder of his comrade, an indication of their closeness and friendship.

Comrades - Proger

Comrades – Proger

The next male is looking to his right, towards his companion, but we can see most of his face. He also has a flat cap on his head but his clothing is slightly different, although still workers clothes. He wears a short jacket and has extremely baggy trousers. On his feet he has the sandals common at the time. To give an indication of the detail we can make out the buckle on the belt around his waist. He is holding a rifle, half way along the length of the barrel, in his left hand – we can see most of the gun, only the end of the butt being hidden behind one of the other figures. Both these figures are standing on a ledge at roughly the level of the previously described uniformed Partisan’s elbow.

To the right of the head of this second male are three stars, a large one with a smaller one on either side. The left most point of the big star seems to overlap the smaller star on that side.

Below the stars, as if written on a wall, are the letters VFLP. These stand for ‘Vdekje Fashizmit – Liri Popullit!’ (‘Death to Fascism – Freedom to the People!’) – the common slogan of the Communist fighters and supporters. We have already seen these letters before, for example, on the lapidars in Peze.

The next figure is laden with symbolism and is the epitome of the Albanian Cultural Revolution of the 1960s/70s. This is of a female Partisan. Although not as large as the first male on the extreme left she is the central image on this lapidar. She’s virtually in the centre of the rectangle and carries with her the main symbols of the National Liberation War and the subsequent attempts to build Socialism.

The Spirit of Communism- Proger

The Spirit of Communism – Proger

She is shown as if she is running forward, her whole body giving the impression of movement. Her left arm is raised high over her head and is stretched out in front of her. She is gripping the short pole to which is attached the red flag of the Communist Partisans (and later, until the 1990s, to be the national flag of the country). She holds the pole just where the flag starts, the bottom end of the pole resting against her forearm. The flag itself streams out above and behind her head. On the flag is the double-headed eagle above which is a star. The folds in the material of the standard adds to the impression of movement. The very top inches of the flag protrude above the rectangle upon which the other images appear, slightly breaking the confines of the block.

The element of movement is also enhanced by the fact that her right arm is bent slightly behind her and in her hand she holds a Beretta Model 38 Sub-machine gun (seen before on the Drashovice Arch). Only one of her legs is seen and that is bent as she runs forward. Her face is in profile, just the right hand side seen, and she has her long hair tucked under her cap. This is an image seen before on the monument to the 68 Girls of Fier, amongst others. She’s dressed in the full uniform of a Communist Partisan and that means a star on her cap and a ‘red’ neck chief, stressing her political allegiance.

This centrality of an armed female is a fundamental of works of Socialist Realism of the period, clearly seen on the most well-known image of the mosaic on the façade of the Historical Museum in Tirana.

Below her is a male partisan with his right knee on the ground, in the act of firing his bolt-action rifle. He has the rifle butt up to his right shoulder and it’s possible to make out a star cut into the wood of the butt, a tradition from early independence struggles which was carried over to the war of 1939-44. He is also in full uniform, wearing a cap with the Communist star. There are puttees on his shins. These were (and versions still are) worn to protect the legs from damage in the rough terrain of the Albanian mountains. His feet rest on top of the letters that run from left to right along most of the bottom edge of the sculpture.

This takes us to about two-thirds of the way along the monument and here we have an actual physical line of division. This line runs from the wrist of the female partisan holding the flag to just before the left toe of the boot of the kneeling male partisan (the top of the line ‘hidden’ behind the fluttering flag). But I’m not too sure why.

All the images on the left depict the story prior to victory over the invading Fascists in November 1944. If the section on the right was to depict events after Liberation it would make sense, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. My doubts stem from the next image.

With his right foot resting on top of the letters at the bottom of the rectangle we have a large, older male. Here we don’t have the representation of a worker but of someone from the countryside. He wears a cap similar to the two workers who are having a discussion but the rest of his clothing, and his look, is more of a peasant than a town dweller. First, he has a bushy moustache, which was becoming rare in the towns. Secondly, his jacket looks home-made, two straps keeping what, I assume, is a leather jerkin closed at his chest. He wears baggy trousers with gaiters buttoned over his shin, more common and usual before the use of puttees (which were mainly for military use). His right foot is on solid ground but his left is on some sort of man-made walk way in the hills – an image I haven’t seen before.

He’s very muscular, as he has to be in order to lift the huge rock he has in both hands, his arms straight as they strain to take the weight. But why is he moving this rock? What prompts the question is that he has the top of the barrel of a rifle sticking up behind his right shoulder. Without the rifle it could be argued that he is building a wall or clearing a patch of land for cultivation. But if that was the case why does he need his rifle? This area is very close to the Greek border and there were incursions into Albania by British and American supported monarcho-fascists in the early days of Socialist Albania. There’s a monument to one such repulsed encounter in the town of Bilisht, only about 5 kilometres away (as the crow flies), on 2nd August 1949. That would explain why people were vigilant and keeping arms to hand but not necessarily on their person at all times when doing hard, physical labour in the countryside.

However, there is an image very similar depicted in a painting by Sali Shijaku, called ‘Skenderbeu’s Artillery’ (1968), where a huge rock has been moved to a high vantage point to drop on any invader. (Shijaku also painted the image, which is in the National Art Gallery in Tirana, of the last moments of Vojo Kushi.)

Skenderbeu's Artillery, Sali Shijaku, 1968

Skenderbeu’s Artillery, Sali Shijaku, 1968

So I’m uncertain of how exactly to interpret this image.

Because the final figure on the lapidar is definitely representing the new Albania after Liberation. Here we have a true Amazon. It’s the image of a country woman, facing straight out, her feet apart, and holding a large sheaf of wheat above her head, with both arms bent at the elbows. She’s a young woman with long hair hanging down both sides of her head and wears a long, simple peasant dress reaching half way down her shins. There looks to be a simple cord pulling it in at her waist. There’s a similar representation of a peasant women in the large sculpture called ‘Toka Jonë – Our Land’ (by Perikli Çuli, 1987) in the centre of Lushnje.

Building Socialism - Proger

Building Socialism – Proger

If you look at the two peasant figures together it appears that the older man is bringing the young woman a huge rock but although I’m sure she could lift it I really don’t see the connection between them.

At the very bottom of the lapidar is the written explanation for the monument. Starting immediately to the right of the large male Partisan on the extreme left are the words:

‘Më 21 XI 1941 në fshatin Progër u krijua celula e parë e partisë në zonë [n e …]’

Which translates as:

‘On 21 XI 1941, in the village of Progër, the first Party cells were established in the area [n…e…]’.

(This was very soon after the establishment of the Communist Party of Albania in Tirana.)

The last words have been totally obliterated and, so far, I’ve been unable to find information on what is missing. Someone has tried to plaster over the remaining words but that vandalism hasn’t been that serious and they can still be read.

This is the first time I’ve seen a lapidar where the target of vandalism has been the written text. Normally it’s the stars that bear the brunt of the hatred.

The sculptor is unknown, as is the date of its inauguration, although often the unveiling of story-telling lapidars would coincide with an anniversary of the event being celebrated. Very often a local sculptor would receive the commission but Progër is still today a small village so the sculptor might have come from further afield.

Apart from the actual vandalism to the text the lapidar shows some signs of damage, The nose of the young woman with the sheaf looks broken and there are a couple of other places where damage doesn’t look like the result of time or general neglect. Unlike many places this monument hasn’t received a recent coat of paint, whether by design or just waiting to get some attention is unclear – local politics playing a role in this.

Although not unique there’s a fence with a locked gate to limit access from the road, necessitating a little bit of climbing and a short walk over rough ground in order to get close.

There used to be many small museums throughout the country during the Socialist period, with virtually all the Martyrs’ Cemeteries having at least a room where artefacts were displayed. In addition most towns would have a small, local museum. There are few remaining. Most were looted or vandalised during the early days of the reaction and now they are few and far between – although the recent renovation of the City Museum of Fier might be the start of a general move to recognise and remember the past.

Museum - Proger

Museum – Proger

In tiny Progër there was a museum just to the left and above the lapidar. It is no longer a museum but has, at least, been put to constructive use as it is now a small polyclinic – although the word ‘Muzeu’ can still be seen, in large letters, above the main entrance.

For such a small village Progër is home to two other lapidars, one commemorating the opening of the first school in 1908 and another to those from the village who fell in the National War of Liberation.

Location:

Progër is a small village 3 kilometres to the east of the road from Korçë to Bilisht.

GPS:

40.69477499

20.94036503

DMS:

40° 41′ 41.1900” N

20° 56′ 25.3141” E

Altitude:

844.7 m

More on Albania ……

Joy 2015, Dir: David O Russell

New Miracle Mop

New Miracle Mop

Warning: Might contain a couple of small spoilers!

The only possible joy you can get out of this dire film is from the title. I just can’t imagine for what qualities this film is being heralded as a celebration of a ‘successful’ woman.

All the characters are odious, ignorant, selfish, loathsome and self-serving. We have a family of four generations and there doesn’t seem to be one iota of real love or respect between any of them. We are told (by the narrator) that Joy and her divorced husband are the best of friends, but we don’t really get any feel of that from what we see on the screen – this is a case of tell don’t show.

This is the type of family where you would be afraid to turn your back, their being so many knives out one would bound to end up in your back.

The eponymous character walks through all this in an almost catatonic state. She has sacrificed her future for others (compounded by a disastrous marriage which might have produced children but even when on screen they’re in the wrong place at the wrong time).

Just in case we’re not clear that she is a put upon drudge, her good nature being abused by all around her, when in a difficult domestic situation she is shown with spilt food, vomit and any other detritus that’s supposed to be the consequence of bringing up young children.

Her principal invention was a mop. Now, is this a problem with American housewives (obviously at the time the film is set, late 80s/early 90’s men wouldn’t be regularly mopping the kitchen) or generally throughout the world? She gets her inspiration from ‘having’ to squeeze out a mop with her hands after a glass had been smashed but instead of trying to pick up as much glass as possible, then attacking the liquid she tries to collect both glass and liquid at the same time meaning she has to squeeze cotton full of glass shards and cutting her hands in the process. Are people really that stupid? And wasn’t the mop bucket invented by the 1990s?

The invention of this revolutionary mop is her contribution to ‘female liberation’ .

But it’s one thing to invent something, it’s another to get it sold. Her breakthrough comes when she, herself, stands in front of the camera of a TV shopping channel and promotes the virtues of her baby. But the scenes at the studio were likewise ludicrous. The initial attempt, using a so-called ‘professional’ presenter is sabotaged as he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Her own attempt is close to disaster when she appears like a rabbit caught in the headlights when the cameras roll. Is that credible? Would such a commercial broadcasting company put people on live television without adequate preparation? Did Jennifer Lawrence herself just turn up on the set of her first film without a screen test? Does the director consider us that stupid? (Presumably, the answer is yes.)

After yet another scene where her abilities are being disparaged by her family instead of standing up for herself and arguing back she meekly leaves the building. This being the United States of America she then asks for the loan of a pump shotgun (from a conveniently placed, open air firing range) and then kills a few bottles. She would have been better served, and it would have made a much better and more interesting film, if she had returned to the office and used it on her family.

At a time when there are (almost invariably not to be unimplemented) measures talked about gun control in the US we are here given a demonstration where the release of frustration through the use of a hand-held killing machine is the way to achieve the ‘American Dream’.

After yet another scene where the world seems to be against her (and especially her odious family) she is shown, for the first time, actually doing something rather than just acting as a doormat or a mouse. And how do we know she is now on the warpath? She perpetrates the (seemingly) greatest crime a woman can do to herself – she cuts her long girly tresses.

Then things get worse. She travels half way across the country, arranges to meet someone she believes has cheated and defrauded her in an empty room in a cheap hotel, whose first words to her are that she doesn’t know who he is and whether he has come to eliminate someone who is becoming a nuisance, but then he just caves in to her threat to expose him. Not only that he offers to give her a more money to placate her anger. That scene was absolutely ridiculous. The whole build up to it was ridiculous.

Throughout we are bombarded by trite, home spun philosophy about achieving potential, never giving in, examples of those who had lived the ‘American Dream’, that all are equal in America, that anyone can achieve success, regardless of class or colour. On and on it went. Perhaps instead of telling the viewer of the film they should have said so to those who are queuing outside food banks throughout the benighted United States.

If all this isn’t enough when we get to the end and hear how she continued to support her despicable family, even though they tried to rob her (yet again), we are subjected to her being patronising to a young, black, female inventor and distributing her largess. And to remind us (as if we need reminding) that she came from humble beginnings we see her finger her scraps of paper from her childhood. It was enough to make my skin creep.

And whose idea was it to give us a narrator who is literally telling the story from beyond the grave?

Finally, what has happened to that coterie of fine American actors who came on our screens in the 1970s? Robert de Niro is in this film and he was an embarrassment. If he has to continue to appear on the big screen perhaps he should be doing what a couple of his contemporaries, i.e., Pacino and Keitel, are now doing. Just make adverts where bad acting is a bonus and live on the glories of the past.

For reasons that are beyond me this film is up for nominations in the upcoming awards season (and has already been nominated for Best Picture and Best Actress – Musical or Comedy, in the 2016 Golden Globe Awards). It might well win (you can’t blame the Academy, for example, for taste). Win or lose Lawrence will probably be able to command even more money than she does at the moment for the roles she will take on. She might not get as much as the men but will still earn more than 99% of the world’s population, let alone those in the acting profession worldwide. We can only hope that with some of those earnings she buys her Mexican maid (probably on minimum wage) a new mop.