Of Masks and Masques

Edgar Poe (I understand he preferred not to be called "Allan" as he and his foster or adopted father of that name didn't get along) wrote a story entitled The Masque of the Red Death.  It involved a Duke or Count I think, or some titled person, who held a great ball or entertainment while a deadly plague called as you might expect "The Red Death" raged.  It was held behind locked doors; precautions were taken to prevent any uninvited person from entering.  As the festivities continued, a red, spectral figure appeared and roamed about.  Eventually, all attending died.  The story was made into a film starring Vincent Price, who starred in several films sometimes very loosely based on a story by Poe.  He wore a red cloak and hood and, with his face painted red, he lurked or stalked about while those unlucky enough to be there feasted and danced and, in the end, died.

Et in Arcadia Ego is a theme of the story, I would think.  But it may not be the only, or even the primary theme.  Death is everywhere and everyplace, and even in a utopia, especially in a time of sickness or plague. But what is it to purposefully deny or disregard it while reveling in abandon, as Tom Petty would say, or at least said or sang?  A display of sangfroid, of despair, of perversity, or callousness--while those barred from the entertainment suffer?  Not a display of ignorance, as the risk and even the certainty of death is known by all in the story, but neither is it a display of acceptance, tranquil or regretful.

One thing is certain, and that is that Poe was not interested in expressing any sense of contentment or peaceful resignation in the face of death.  Being a writer in Romantic times and partial to grim or mysterious themes, despair would be more likely, or perhaps a rumination on the frivolousness and transience of human life.

A masque is a kind of entertainment.  A mask is used to conceal, deceive or frighten.  Perhaps the masque, the entertainment, in Poe's story was intended or hoped to be a way to deceive death, or at least the participants in the masque, for a time. The urge to forget.   Nepenthe being quaffed as in The Raven.

I can't help but wonder what writers and other artists will make of the great plague of our time, if it proves to be as impressively destructive as those of the past, or even as malaria, or "the pox" as it was called.  We've shut out the rest of the world too, but the virus is here and spreading.

 What is left, after the slew of shows and movies involving zombie apocalypses, nuclear holocausts and other catastrophes like asteroid impacts?  We've already developed "entertainments" about pandemics of several different kinds, or about outbreaks of some deadly bacterial strain or other.   We've created so many masques regarding the end of humanity that it's difficult to conceive of new or different such entertainments.  Perhaps we've become so accustomed to the idea that the world will end in some spectacular way that we'll lack any concern when and if it actually takes place.

There are of course those who firmly believe in the apocalypse and even eagerly await it.  It will be easy enough to construe any disaster as consistent with the Book of Revelation.  Those who believe  aren't known to be particular in this respect.  Pestilence is one of the Four Horsemen, so COVID 19 fits into it rather well, if it should turn out very bad.

Thus do the Four Horseman serve as masks of a kind.  They represent the consequences of humanity's ignorance, greed and avarice which are masked by the claim that it was all foretold, all a part of God's plan--inevitable, so why hope or try to avoid it?

A Plague On All Our Houses

A comparison of the coronavirus, or Covid-19, with the great plagues of the past is probably premature.  Millions must die first if it is to rival the destruction caused by its infamous predecessors.  It's apparently closest in kind and time to the influenza which wrecked havoc after the First World War, but it simply hasn't proved as devastating, yet.  Do we overreact, or are we only waiting for the worst, which is still to come?

It's hard to say, given the reaction, which is rapidly reaching the point of hysteria.  Unless you count yourself among the dull and self-involved, who think there is no crisis until they feel threatened, you can't help but be impressed by the measures being taken, which as far as I know cannot be compared with anything we've seen for a very long time.  But it's human nature to wonder if what we hear of the symptoms of this virus renders the reaction to it exaggerated (it's in the nature of this human, in any case)  And yet, there are those who've died of it.

At this stage, however, it strikes me that what is most interesting and fearful regarding the virus is the reaction to it.  I choose "fearful" because it seems that fear is very much a part of its significance.  I don't say along with the Oaf that things are under control and there is nothing to worry about.  Why anyone would believe him is a mystery, on this or any other subject.  Only he and others like him would think that stopping people from entering into the country will prevent a virus already among us from spreading or taking hold.  But the hoarding taking place, and the opportunism, and the isolation we impose on ourselves or which government imposes on us is a concern to any thinking person.

Now perhaps we no longer think, not really, as I've thought and said and written more than once.  We merely react in the quickest and most hyperbolic way possible--at least to the extent we can by limiting ourselves to what we can tweet or spit out quickly by means of social media.  That may be so, and may be explanation enough for our conduct.  But can it be that we're so anxious to be alive  that we react in such a manner at even the smallest chance that we may die as to, in effect, stop living as the social animals we are, and huddle in our homes and huts until the Angel of Death has passed us by?

I've wondered before in this blog and elsewhere whether we've become more fearful of death than we were in antiquity, and whether the cause for our timidness in the face of nature's power over us might have its basis in Christian doctrine, which dwells so lovingly on the eternal horror that awaits most of us on death, and is so inclined to see as being the cause of every disaster our sinfulness and the wrath of an offended God.  As far as we can tell, this kind of longing for eternal, blissful life, and fear of eternal, horrific punishment wasn't much present in the ancient pagans of the West, at least until Christianity along with the various mystery cults began to take hold.  Life after death was dull and dreary to the ancient Greeks and Romans, compared with life on earth, but nothing which would cause one to cling desperately to life.

And certainly one can infer that fear will spread with far greater ease now than it did in the past.  Just as ignorance and falsehood do, thanks to our technology.

The Pope walks the streets of Rome, praying for our salvation.  Perhaps we should beat ourselves and wear sackcloth and ashes, wailing.  It would be just like the old days, and at least as effective now as it was then, until it passes or our capacity for intelligence, or that of some among us, does through science what we hope to do by petitioning God to save us from...what, exactly?