Soul brothers

Sharing more than a pout: American ex-soldier John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone, left) and French poet Arthur Rimbaud. (Maple Pictures, AFP/Getty)

When a friend told me that a new Rimbaud film was being released Jan. 25, I was elated. “That’s terrific,” I said. “We’ve hardly seen any movies about the great French symbolist poet. The only one I can think of is Total Eclipse, with Leonardo DiCaprio, and that was back in 1995—”

“No, no, you idiot,” she said impatiently. “Not Rimbaud. Rambo. You know, Sylvester Stallone? Vietnam vet, mucho violence, headbands…”

Ah. Rambo. I seemed to dimly recall such a character from back in that dark era known as the ’80s. Had anyone else ever confused the two? I did an internet search of “Rimbaud” and “Rambo.” It appears that on the rare occasions when the two are mentioned in the same sentence, it’s by way of a contrast: sensitive artist versus macho brute. A Times of London article from 2005 entitled When Rimbaud meets Rambo focused on the differences between Dominique de Villepin, the poetry-writing French prime minister, and George W. Bush and his war-mongering cronies. In Rimbaud/Rambo, a recent song by Detroit band the High Strung, the singer tries to choose between the two types of men.

Rimbaud left behind some of the most strange, exquisite and haunting poetry ever written. The Rambo movies, on the other hand, have become motivational videos for guerilla warriors; in Ishmael Beah’s recent memoir, A Long Way Gone, he recalls how he and other child soldiers in Sierra Leone got psyched up to kill by watching Stallone’s jungle-savvy hero. The new Rambo film will likely continue that legacy: it’s an ugly, thuddingly brutal movie that wallows in military atrocities even as it pretends to condemn them.

All the same, there is a definite Rambo/Rimbaud link. It begins with David Morrell, the Canadian-born author of the original Rambo novel, First Blood, who apparently had the poet in mind when he named his character. On his website, Morrell recalls thinking that Rimbaud’s famous prose poem, A Season in Hell, “was an apt metaphor for the prisoner-of-war experiences that I imagined Rambo suffering.”

And that’s not all the two have in common. Take a closer look at them and you'll find some startling similarities.

They’re both drifters

Rambo: In his first film, 1982’s First Blood, the decorated vet has returned home to the U.S. but is unable to adapt to civilian life. Drifting restlessly around the country, he winds up in the Pacific Northwest. In the sequels, he goes back to Vietnam, then settles in Thailand (Rambo: First Blood Part II), then journeys to Afghanistan (Rambo III). In the new Rambo, he ventures into Burma (a.k.a. Myanmar) to rescue some kidnapped American aid workers. The theme song to First Blood is It’s a Long Road, sung by Canadian folkie Dan Hill.

Rimbaud: Born in Charleville, in northern France, in 1854, Rimbaud refused to stay on the family farm. He ran off to Paris repeatedly as a teenager, later spent time in London, crossed the Alps on foot, briefly served overseas as a Dutch soldier but deserted in Java, took jobs in Cyprus and Yemen, then settled in Ethiopia. He returned to France in 1891 and died that year in Marseille at the age of 37. His song of the open road is Ma Bohème.

John Rambo (Sylvester Stallone, right) dispatches an enemy in Rambo. (Karen Ballard/Maple Pictures)

They’re both anti-social

Rambo: He lives on his own and chafes at laws and authority figures. In First Blood, his refusal to obey a redneck sheriff results in a bloody confrontation with a small-town police force. In Rambo, he’s still a surly loner, equally disdainful of the pacifist aid workers and the team of hard-bitten mercenaries who help him with his rescue mission.

Rimbaud: Arriving in Paris as a poet prodigy, the 17-year-old Rimbaud proceeded to insult and alienate the circle of famous older poets who welcomed him. He also hated authority. He rebelled against his domineering mother, sneered at the Catholic church and wrote a vitriolic poem about customs officials after being frisked at the Belgian border.

They’re both violent

Rambo: Well, duh. According to Wikipedia, in Rambo: First Blood Part II, he kills at least 61 people. That carnage was topped by Rambo III, which made the 1990 Guinness Book of World Records as the most violent movie to date, with more than 108 casualties. I didn’t bring my calculator to the new Rambo, but I can report scores of deaths by bullets, beheading, landmines, strangulation … oh, and being eaten by pigs.

Rimbaud: No, he didn’t leave a body count, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. During a fracas at a poetry reading, he stabbed photographer Etienne Carjat with a sword-cane. Another time, he put sulphuric acid in a roommate’s drink. And he and fellow poet Paul Verlaine liked to duel with knives concealed in rolled-up towels (sounds like a scene from a David Cronenberg film!). Rimbaud was also on the receiving end of violence: Verlaine shot him in the wrist with a revolver during a quarrel in Brussels. Rambo-like, Rimbaud shrugged it off as a flesh wound.

They’re both weapons aficionados

Rambo: When our boy goes berserk in First Blood, his weapon of choice is a M60 machine-gun. In the new Rambo, he favours a longbow with arrows he forges himself — all the better to skewer nasty Burmese soldiers. In the original film, he made do with a multipurpose survival knife; in the latest one, he has upgraded to a machete.

Rimbaud: By the age of 20, Rimbaud had abandoned the role of poet for that of entrepreneur and gunrunner. In 1887, he undertook his most infamous enterprise, selling rifles and ammunition to Ethiopian warlord King Menelik II. As for his knife fetish, see above.

Detail of a handwritten letter by Rimbaud. (Leon Neal/AFP/Getty)

They both had a strong bond with an older man

Rambo: Col. Samuel Trautman, played in the first three films by Richard Crenna, was Rambo’s commanding officer in Vietnam and later becomes his mentor/buddy, not to mention a shoulder to cry on (see the end of First Blood). “I’m the closest thing to family that he has left,” explains Trautman. Crenna died in 2003, but his Trautman lives on in Rambo, courtesy of flashbacks culled from the earlier movies.

Rimbaud: Verlaine, who was 10 years older than Rimbaud, began as the boy-poet’s mentor and then became his lover. Despite their violent breakup, Verlaine continued to tout his friend’s talent and saw to it that Rimbaud’s poetry was published.

They’re both enduring pop-culture figures

Rambo: His name is now part of our everyday lexicon. The 2004 edition of the Canadian Oxford Dictionary includes the word Rambo with this definition: “a man given to displays of physical violence or aggression; a macho man.”

Rimbaud: He’s the patron saint of rebellious, iconoclastic songwriters, especially Patti Smith and Bob Dylan. In I’m Not There, Todd Haynes’s impressionistic new film about Dylan, Ben Whishaw plays a Dylan incarnation named Arthur Rimbaud. Other fans include Van Morrison, whose song Tore Down à la Rimbaud references Rimbaud’s abandonment of poetry to describe a creative crisis. And Canadian rocker Tom Cochrane’s 1980 hit with Red Rider, White Hot, was inspired by Rimbaud’s gunrunning in Africa.

Rambo opens Jan. 25. Graham Robb’s excellent 2000 biography, Rimbaud, is published by W.W. Norton.

Martin Morrow writes about the arts for CBCNews.ca.

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