Artaud, Briefly

Had the pleasure of seeing EgoPo's production of Artaud Unbound tonight, featuring stagings of his radio scenarios, black-and-white scenarios, and "Spurt of Blood" with readings from "Theater and its Double". Quite the treat, to understate it.

When you will have made him a body without organs,
then you will have delivered him from all his automatic reactions
and restored him to his true freedom.

Then you will teach him again to dance wrong side out
as in the frenzy of dance halls
and this wrong side out will be his real place.

- To Have Done with the Judgment of God

Adventures with Plato and "The Republic"

It really was an adventure, what with the single worst translation moment in history ("a shabby sort of thing") and the discovery of Franklin O. Loveland, III (Dartmouth Class of 1964, the last person to read this copy). Beyond that, I was pleased to discover that "The Republic" was not only readable, but directly relevant to current events! The chapters on despotism coincided with Egypt's anti-Mubarak protests this past week-- which also almost (almost) made me want to take a second look at "The Prince".

Anyway, moving on to the meat of it ... Plato puts forth a ridiculously difficult hypothesis: Morality is in the interest of the individual. In other words, it pays to be just. He clarifies that this doesn't mean only acting morally (external justice) but being moral (internal justice, which begets external). For example, giving to charity for the sake of garnering favorable opinions but not for the sake of the charity's work, that would be external justice. I seem like a great person.

Mini-note: the word ontology means the study of existence and being. (What is real?)
Mini-note #2: Plate defines philosophy as the desire for TOTAL knowledge and Truth, beyond the desire/curiosity for new experiences like travel and culture ... Plato is all about getting at absolutes, not relative appearances

Plato begins with the Social Contract theory, summed up as "Hey, let's agree not to murder or steal from each other and everything'll be great." BUT, imagine the suspension of law and that Social Contract ... if I have to the power to do so without punishment, wouldn't I steal? (I believe this might be called looting.) Do morality and justice have worth beyond appearances?

Plato says: Being just is success in itself -- a virtue by its intrinsic effect on a person.

Amid this main argument, Plato seeks to describe an ideal city state in order to relate back to an ideal individual. This city state (hence, the republic) is governed by a Philosopher-King, who has wisdom of the true Good -- as best as I can tell, this ultimate Good described by Plato is more or less the meaning of life.

At this point, everyone in the dialogue wants to know how to get this "wisdom" of the Good ... which leads to the famous Allegory of the Cave. The true Good of knowing is similar to the Sun (= enlightenment!). Plato also introduces his theory of Forms. For example: I'm in a dark room and I discover there's a chair in the room; I can feel around the edges and it exists. But then say I turn on the light. There's still the chair in the room, only now I know what the color and shape is all together, and should I turn off the light again I still know what it really looks like (its' Form). The absolute Form is in contrast to the world of appearances (in the dark, maybe I think it's an ugly chair ... my friend might think it's a beautiful chair ... how can it be both ugly and beautiful?).

Random movie connections: "The Matrix" (waking from the dream of the world of appearances into the Real world of Forms) & "American Beauty" (plus note the contrast between the "beautiful" girl and the Beauty of the plastic bag) ... I guess 1999 was a good year for Plato.

The philosopher in a way gets the best of all worlds. He is wise and therefore just, and is able to show moderation and restraint in his gains and ambitions (self-control). Whereas a man who is ambitious and rich but not wise will not be fully satisfied in his soul.

The big argument against the unjust man is that he is haunted by FEAR, and therefore ultimately a slave (always guarding property, paranoia, avoiding the law). Plato argues that injustice also throws off the balance of the soul (psychological strain).

I thought it was interesting that, in describing the education of philosophers and the just man, Plato shows glimmers of a concept later explored by Foucault -- the social norm.

"Is not the public itself the greatest of all sophists [teachers], training up ... into the most accomplished specimens of the character it desires to produce? ... He accepts all their notions of right and wrong."

The danger of conformity! Society creating identity! Ahh!

Continuing with modern connections ... Plato agrees with Susan Sontag that in art, aesthetics is linked with ethics. From my earlier Sontag entry: "The qualities which are intrinsic to the aesthetic experience ... are also fundamental constituents of a moral response to life." The moral pleasure in art in intelligent gratification ... one gains knowledge (WISDOM) through experiencing art! Both also stress emotionally-free, undramatic responses to art.

Plato's issue with art and specifically Homer's epics is that it reproduces conventional ideas and appearances of beauty, honor and justice, while indulging the emotions. Rather than against healthy catharsis, he seems to be more against trashy sentimentalism a la the soap opera and Jerry Springer.

Wrapping up briefly ...

My issues with Plato:
- endorsement of censorship (noble lie vs. control of information)
- communism in the ideal city (unity vs. sharing wives)
- totalitarianism in the ideal city (Philosopher-King knows best vs. political self-determination)

Bottom line: I'm glad I read this; overall inspiring and relevant.

John Updike is Pennsylvanian

And yet I've managed to live in this state 23 years without hearing a single thing about him. Kind of like my stunned realizations that Walt Whitman lived in New Jersey and Poe had a house in Philly. Also amazing is that he wrote "Rabbit, Run" when he was 28.

I took a break from 1800s Russia and revisited 1960s/80s America with "Beloved" by Toni Morrison and "Rabbit, Run" by Mr. Updike, both of which were listed by the New York Times as the best fiction of the past 25 years. They sort of cheated by including the Rabbit 'series'.

Briefly on "Beloved" - it scared the crap out of me at several points (ghost story) and was extremely shocking at others (chain gangs, Sweet Home) but overall I enjoyed Morrison's voice and especially the dialogue. Favorite character = Stamp Paid. I'd like to read one of her novels set in more modern times.

"Rabbit Run" was also shocking, but mostly at the selfishness of Harry Angstrom. This book was on my good ol' canon list. It actually reminded me of the movie "American Beauty" if it happened to a guy half Kevin Spacey's age and forty years earlier. Even more relevant, "Revolutionary Road" with a gender role reversal. Which brings up the weirdest thing about this book - I kept envisioning Harry and Janice as a middle-aged couple, even though they were like mid-twenties. Possibly because most mid-twenties people I know today don't have a family and a house.

Updike succeeds in capturing the essence of domestic discontent and restlessness (Rabbit runs .. constantly) and managed to do this in such a way that a situation written in 1961 is still equally true today. I'm not sure if that speaks to the quality of the writing or the lack of quality in American family life. Probably both. It's horrific visions like these that lurk in the back of my mind, and probably in the mind of any twentysomething approaching that invisible line between eligible single and old maid. The trendy thing to do is travel abroad for a few months ... and hopefully it's more successful than Harry driving to the Gulf.

Bottom line is: Updike was able to capture a particular American truth (if that's the word?) in "Rabbit, Run", and I enjoy being surprised when I see the copyright date.

Things that finally happened:

- watched "Last Year at Marienbad" and "Muriel" by Alain Resnais (more on that later)
- started reading through Kundera's "Encounter"

Nabokov on Tolstoy, Dostoevsky

After finishing Stacy Schiff's excellent biography of Vera Nabokov, I was inspired to finally shell out the dollars for "Lectures on Russian Literature" by VN and "Encounter" by Milan Kundera, both of which I had mentioned in connection with "The Idiot" a few entries back. My little Russian lit excursion doesn't seem to be nearing an end.

An important note about Nabokov (both Vladimir & Vera, insomuch as VN stands for two): the art is in the image, or rather the imagery, the description.

Nabokov elaborates on what a "good reader" is (and what amateurs like me should aspire to) on p.11 of "Lectures":

-not guided or defined by class or nation (i.e., don't read through the lense of middle-class America)
- "identifies himself not with the boy or the girl in the book, but with the mind that conceived and composed that book"
- does not seek historical information within the novel (the world of the book is imagined and specific to the author)
- "not concerned with general ideas" but with "the particular vision" ... TEXTUAL DETAILS! If I'm a good reader, then I enjoy what the author wants me to enjoy -- the devil can be in the details; close reading

I was relieved and pleased to see that Nabokov doesn't idolize Tolstoy's descriptive techniques; instead he chalks the realism up to the pacing of the novel -- the author and the reader follow the story in synchronized yet subjective time (i.e., it doesn't feel rushed or plodding). (p.142)

I also LOVE that Nabokov also finds Tolstoy's long boring philosophical chapters long and boring! Whew, I was afraid they were actually supposed to be weighty and influential and an integral part of the novel. Now I don't feel so bad about hating the end. His notes on this are hysterical. (p.143)

On to Dostoevsky ... Nabokov is not a fan, to put it lightly.

First, a definition of sentimentality: "the non-artistic exaggeration of familiar emotions meant to provoke automatically traditional compassion in the reader" (p.103)

Dostoevsky's post-Siberia writings were guided by his support of the Greek-Catholic Church, absolute monarchy, and Russian nationalism -- none of which endears him to Nabokov. Memorably, he dislikes how the characters end up "sinning their way to Jesus" (p.104). Not to mention that Dostoevsky commits a chief offense by limiting or forgoing physical descriptions of people and places; where is the imagery?

Nabokov makes the argument, similar to Sontag's essays, that a "reaction to true art" is a "feeling of pleasure and satisfaction and spiritual vibration" which is largely absent in "The Idiot" because of Dostoevsky's mentally unstable characters. In other words, how can the reader hope to observe and generally learn about the human soul (the cause of the reaction to true art) in the midst of such rampant madness? How can this inspire reflection on the human experience when so far removed from the norm? ... I thought this was a great point. I mean, Prince Myshkin doesn't give much insight that can be generally applied or grounded in reality. Though he does make for great conversation about religion and morals. Nabokov continues his character criticism and points out that although "The Idiot" has a deep plot, there is hardly any character development, aside from general disintegration into madness which was arguably happening at the outset anyway.

Summarized: Myshkin has epilepsy, General Ivolgin has senile dementia, Nastasya is hysterial (something in common with a lot of the female characters), Rogozhin is a psychopath (and allegedly an erotomaniac?)

So, after this slicing and dicing of poor Dostoevsky, I was hoping for something interesting from Kundera. Surprisingly, his short essay on "The Comedic Absence of the Comical" was directly about that and not much else.

Briefly: to find humor in seeing/realizing that nothing is funny ... or amused at recognizing humorless laughter (is this like realizing that existence is comical because it's nonsense? might have to check back to class notes here.) Kundera also brings up examples of laughter as a rebuke of the ridiculous, an expression of hopeless (?) anguish, and a means to blend in. Actually, just typing that, it's most definitely a commentary on existence. (It's tragic! It all means nothing! It's comical! Absurd!) Impressive that Kundera is able to draw that out. More of a connection to contemporary avant-garde themes than Russian literature.

Next up: quite possibly "Anna Karenin(a)"? Or Gogol's "Dead Souls"?

Other notes: Robbe-Grillet. Plus the zillioneth mention of Last Year at Marienbad. WHO/WHAT?

May mosey through more of Sontag & Kundera.

"War and Peace" : Initial Impressions

I had been putting off this entry until I could bring together some succinct thoughts on Tolstoy's "War and Peace" and I'm 90% sure this will be expanded in the future (hence the "initial" impressions).

To be honest, my first thought on finishing this book was "That's it? Thank God that's over. Man that last part was boring." And I fully blame this on the crappy edition I was reading, where none of the philosophical/historical essays were edited out (or even compiled at the end) and there were no footnotes. Thus, instead of pleasantly finishing with the post-war families, I finished with seven chapters of detailed historical philosophy.

Overall, while the book was engaging and monumental in scope, I can't seem to get on the "Tolstoy is a genius of descriptions!" bandwagon. Yes, he's eloquent with his visuals, but I actually think Cormac McCarthy (especially with "Suttree") is better.

Anyway, starting off. While looking for some guidelines to help me better think about the book, I discovered that Tolstoy is Tolstoi is Tolstoj. As if Russian names weren't already difficult without consonant/vowel flexibility.

Tolstoy's argument as author & historian is to place emphasis on small, commonplace events versus monumental global events, and how inherent disorder in those small events is what defines history (not Napoleon or Emperor Alexander). Ironically, or appropriately, he does this in a huge 1400-page novel about a multi-year international war. The argument he makes is formally called "prosaics"; see "The Poetry in War and Peace" by David Sloane. Towards the end of the book, Tolstoy seeks to dispel the idea of free will, claiming that all of history is a series of effects stemming from an unknown, original cause. Interestingly, he manages to formulate a milder version of Michel Foucault's later ideas on how individuals are not truly individual but rather shaped by societal norms. So to me, the final few chapters weren't really earth-shattering news but I imagine that in the mid-1800s they were fairly novel approaches to history.

Unlike Foucault, Tolstoy then uses this (meaning, wars are won or lost by all men acting individually rather than just one, i.e. Napoleon) as evidence for a higher power / God; essentially predetermined history.

"It is not a novel," Tolstoy says of his book. I think he says this because it's sprawling and nearly all-encompassing, and doesn't have a clear-cut ending. However, I do think there is a plot. Yes, it's a depiction of LIFE in general and life in specific (a social novel and a personal novel, as Raymond Williams points out in "Realism and the Contemporary Novel") -- but, it starts out with peace and establishing characters, rises to a climax with the occupation of Moscow, and sort-of concludes with the post-war families. It isn't a traditional novel, in the 1800s sense of the word, but the plot is, well, war and peace and the effects of that on the characters.

I didn't realize I had a problem with the depiction of women in this book until I really started thinking about it. Tolstoy champions religious and familial devotion as being the paths to true lasting love, with a big helping of suffering on the side (Sonya, Marya, Natasha). By the end of the book, none of the main female characters are a part of mainstream society, but this may be a compliment since Tolstoy portrays social circles as petty and false. I was expecting a less conservative outcome, so this was disappointing. Another weird thing I wanted to mention: it was so completely disturbing to read Marya's rationalization of her father's total domestic abuse towards her.

Random observation for later, maybe: Count Bezukhov is similar to Hamlet -- failure to act!

Other thoughts: Tolstoy's General Kutuzov doesn't so much command the army as 'go with the flow', in accordance with the theme of predetermined history in the book. However, if I was a soldier and I saw my General falling asleep during the strategy session, I'd be more than a little nervous -- don't you need the illusion of grand leadership in order to motivate individual actions of men? Also, in terms of "prosaics," it's interesting to see that many of the battles are waged or prevented because of petty and confusing intrigues within the army and diplomatic ranks of countries. Personal interests tend to come before troops and the nation even in dire circumstances, and overcommunication often results in no communication (breakdown of hierarchies & order with regard to small events, like retreating the battery unit or not).

I won't read this book again, but at least now I'll understand the allusions and references. And I'm sure I'll have more entries on how to understand/appreciate "War and Peace" as my little literary adventure continues.

Currently taking a break from the canon to read Stacy Schiff's "Vera: Mrs. Vladimir Nabokov" -- still stuck in Russian lit land! Also read through Sontag's "Marat/Sade/Artaud" but won't be commenting on it here, as it didn't really put forth new perspectives but rather reinforced a few (summed up: theater may be both didactic and experiential/sensual).