Danse Macabre

I first became familiar with the Danse Macabre through the music of Saint-Saens, who wrote a tone poem by that name.  I thought it a rather jaunty tune, though in a minor key and so thereby a bit unusual, perhaps even grotesque but in an entertaining manner.  I didn't know when I first heard and enjoyed it that it was greeted with something approaching outrage when it was first performed; something I find difficult to believe, but all too believable.

I knew enough even at the time I first heard it to be aware of its association with death.  Perhaps it's jauntiness in that association is what critics and audiences alike objected to in the 19th century.  The use of a xylophone must have been particularly irritating back then.  But it is after all a dance, even if a dance led by Death, and it seems that dance involved hopping or skipping judging from paintings, engravings and drawings by which it was depicted.  So it seems to me "jaunty" well describes the part of Death in it, at least, cavorting as it leads us into....what?

In the Middle Ages when it seems the dance appeared as an object of artistic representation which became, if we can use the word, "popular", the dance as represented had much the same features everywhere it was displayed.  A skeleton or skeletons, sometimes decked out in the garb we associate with the Grim Reaper, leads men and women and children identifiable by their dress as Emperors, Kings, Popes, Bishops, nobility, merchants and peasants--all of the kinds of people of Europe at the time--in the dance of death.  The meaning and purpose of these works is clear enough.  We will all die, and will do so regardless of our status when alive.  Being one of the rich and mighty won't protect us from our inevitable dissolution.  We all come to the same end, die and decay.

At that stage of humanity's "progress" death was more familiar than it is now.  Life spans were short, medicine primitive, sickness rampant.  The Black Plague and other diseases ran through whole communities.  There was no escape from death.  There's no escape now, of course, but seldom was the phrase "here today, gone tomorrow" more applicable.

Clear enough what was meant, then.  But what was the reaction to the message?  Reaction would vary, one would think.  In pagan times it likely meant something different.  There are old Roman funeral inscriptions which state one reaction; that is, to eat, drink and be merry while we can.  That may have been the reaction of some in the Middle Ages as well.  But with the advent of Christianity came a different view of the Danse.  Eating, drinking and being merry were frowned upon at least to a certain extent; to the extent, that is, they were sins or caused sins to take place.  And so the Danse  impressed on many the need to pray for forgiveness, to repent, perhaps even to do good deeds.  This would not be thought to do much if any good, though, in some circles, where only those were saved who were saved by the grace of God, not their own acts.  Also, of course, there would be the reaction that one must do right by the Church and its rules.

In both pagan and Christian times, however, there must have been those few who reacted to the Danse as indicating the vanity of our concerns and actions,  All fame, power and money came to nought.  Marcus Aurelius wrote more than once of the fact that our words and deeds will not be remembered in the future and meant nothing to the world, which we may now call the universe.

How react to the Danse now, though?  Some no doubt react now as others did then.  Some would react like Marcus did.  Most Stoics would know what he knew.  To a Stoic it would serve as a reminder that we should treat things beyond the control of our will as indifferent.  To do as Epictetus said, and do the best we can with what we have and take the rest as it comes.  To understand that our deaths are according to nature, and not to be feared.  Instead to be accepted.

But this time is peculiar in its selfishness, I think.  At least, I think that's the case here in our Great Republic.  We're encouraged not to care about others--and certainly not to do anything for them.  Particularly those who are different.  It's perfectly all right with many of us that some are poor, or can't afford health care, etc.  Perhaps it's our Protestant background, and the myth of rugged individualism that make us uncaring.  Or, perhaps we merely resent that others may get something we don't have "for free."

Our selfishness causes a different reaction to the Danse.  I think that reaction is anger.  We're angry that we, and what we want, will end.   For some of us, that makes it easy enough to do violence, to others.

Bad Advice and Consent

Article II, Section 2, Clause 2 of the Constitution of our Glorious Republic provides that the President shall nominate, and "by and with the Advice and Consent of the Senate" shall appoint, Judges of the Supreme Court "and all other Officers of the United States."  This is often referred to as "the Advice and Consent Clause." We many, we unfortunate many, have witnessed the lugubrious exercise of this function by the Senate regarding the ascension (if that is a word that can be used) of a Judge of the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court.  

Besides being a clause, Advice and Consent is also the name of a movie made in the early 1960s, presumably based on a book, starring Henry Fonda, Charles Laughton and other worthies regarding the nomination of a man to serve as Secretary of State.  In that movie, the nominee was accused of being a Communist or former Communist; a satisfyingly serious condemnation given the times.  The Senate revealed in the movie is a fictional Senate, of course, but either through the magic of film and art or otherwise that Senate--though portrayed as corrupt in a fashion--seems possessed of a dignity lacking in the real thing of our time.  On this and on other occasions our politicians and our political institutions have demonstrated that truth can be far stranger, or at least seedier, than fiction.

Perhaps "stranger" isn't an appropriate word in this case.  Sadly, there was nothing strange about the proceedings.  They seemed very familiar, in fact.  Posturing, hypocrisy, self-righteousness, scheming, lying is to be expected whenever our politicians are on public display and particularly when they are in groups.  They scheme and lie in private as well, of course, but may be less inclined to posturing, hypocrisy and self-righteousness when not in the public eye.  Be that as it may, the proceedings were by all accounts spectacular; a spectacle, in fact.  I avoided them as much as possible, but a real effort is required to avoid anything that our dread enemy, the media, finds interesting.

What little I saw was disturbing in a peculiar way.  Events were taking place; people were talking, asking and answering questions, but it was difficult to think of it as something which was not a movie or play.  I wonder if that is how we experience events in which we're not directly involved.  We watch a movie, generally a boring, bad one.   Perhaps, but the feeling in this instance may have had its basis in the knowledge that the outcome of the proceedings was virtually certain.  I think everyone knew that the needed number of members of the Senate would consent to the appointment from the very start, regardless of what was said, simply because the majority of members of the Senate are Republican.  The only real question was how the Republicans would contrive to nominate while appearing to take seriously the allegations which were made, and whether they could do so while increasing their political status and likelihood of reelection--ultimately, the only concerns of politicians.

The Democrats like any other person of middling intelligence knew that the nomination would very likely occur, and so knowing that did what they could to attack the integrity of the nomination.  Perhaps, also, they saw it as an opportunity to bring attention to the plight of victims of sexual assault, but I suspect that their primary end in view was to make their Republican colleagues look bad, which was at least achievable.

I won't delve into questions of credibility.  I think it clear enough that the Judge drank excessively in his younger days, and marvel somewhat that he took pains to deny this, or at least not to admit it.  That appears to have been the only well-established fact.  So, he was less than credible in that respect, and much of his expressed outrage in the proceedings seemed a performance, similar to that of Senator Graham.  This doesn't mean he committed sexual assault, however.  Senate Committee proceedings are not useful in determining criminal conduct.

What I find interesting, and disheartening, is that the process has become so partisan, so infused with political conflict, histrionics and melodrama that it is doubtful whether it serves any useful purpose in assuring that competent people are appointed in any capacity as Officers of the United States.  What competent, honorable person would want to subject himself/herself to such a review, given that the review would be conducted by people whose motivation is not assuring that the best person for the job is appointed, but furthering a political agenda at whatever cost?  Chances are the only person who would go through it would be so eager for power that they're willing to expose themselves, to run the gauntlet.

The Senate can still consent, and will no doubt continue to do so, but is no longer capable of giving advice.  But considering that currently, the one who is suppose to be advised is inadvisable, that may not be much of a concern in the short run.