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?

Barking Mad

What better way to illustrate the smug, cruel, hectoring and thoughtless nature of the times then through this later sketch by Goya?  Surely you see someone you've seen before among those pictured, here?  Someone you've seen on TV or a computer monitor or smartphone, perhaps (where else do we see anyone or anything, anymore?).

I'm increasingly impressed by what I think are the limits of the human mind, made bare--certainly not glorious--by the vast information available to us and our sad reaction to it.  It must be true that there is more available, more to know if we were to make the effort, than ever before in our history.  But though that's clear it isn't possible to think that we're any the better for it.  We seem instead to be suffering from a collective form of attention deficit disorder.

A particular kind of collective ADD, however.  One in which our failure, or inability, to pay attention is paramount, particularly in connection with information which doesn't comfort us or comport with our preferences.  We seem unable to either process or accept such information.  In fact, more than that is involved.  We also actively doubt and even condemn such information.  It is "fake news" to use the unwittingly stupid parlance of the times.  It's something designed to mislead us, by enemies sometimes known, sometimes unknown, sometimes imagined.

As may be expected, this rejection of what doesn't accord with our beliefs and desires is matched by an unthinking, uncritical, acceptance of what does.  Words and sounds and images appear before us or are heard by us, and if we like them we believe them to be the way, the truth, and the light (there's something religious about the zeal with which we accept what we like, especially when it's transmitted via the technology we use every minute of the day, which increasingly becomes our reality).  So, we pass it along through social media as the truth, without verifying what is said or pictured.

In times when communication was much slower than it is now, someone, possibly P.T. Barnum, noted that a sucker is born every minute.  Now perhaps it's more accurate to say suckers are born always.  Why particularize, or qualify?    We live in the time, or kingdom, of the con artist.  Never before has it been easier to pass on and popularize untruth and exaggeration.  In an age where we come more and more to seek simple answers, an understandable result when a limited mind is subject to unlimited information, it may be the case as well that never before have we been more inclined to be conned.

Lately I've been thinking of the play Marat/Sade, and the movie inspired by it (actual title:  The Persecution and Assassination of Jean-Paul Marat as Performed by the Inmates of the Asylum of Charenton under the Direction of the Marquis de Sade).  I'd like to see it again.  It seems particularly pertinent given the upcoming election here in God's Favorite Country.  Perhaps we're in a madhouse of sorts, under the direction of other, more fortunate inmates, playing out scenes derived from a cherished past for the benefit of those who wish us to be amused and distracted while we do their bidding.

The Flaunting of Corruption

Ambrose Bierce, a remarkable man, has been mentioned by me before in the blog.  Soldier of the Union in the Civil War, journalist, author, wit (though a bitter wit; hence his nickname "Bitter Bierce").  He vanished after leaving our Glorious Republic for Mexico in, I believe, 1917.  We don't know his fate.  Before disappearing, he said and wrote many things which I think astute.  You can read one of them, above.

From out of the past, a quote which seems utterly appropriate to the present.  But what was sardonic humor then is now a statement which can fairly be called "unimpeachable" (pardon the pun), meaning not to be doubted, entirely trustworthy.

That the statement is true has been demonstrated in the (un)impeachment proceedings in the Senate of our Great Nation.  Not only has it been demonstrated, however.  It has been expressly stated by Republicans and their lawyers, who have claimed repeatedly that politics is indeed the conduct of public affairs for the benefit of a particular individual, in this case the president.  Therefore, there is nothing wrong with it, or at least nothing impeachable about it.  Most significantly, it constitutes a defense against all claims of corruption or abuse of power, as far as these worthies are concerned.

There is something odd about the claim that the authors of the Constitution did not mean impeachment was appropriate in the case of abuse of presidential power for the president's own benefit.  How likely is it that the drafters of the Constitution believed that a president could be impeached only if guilty of a crime?  Were they concerned that the president would rob a bank, kidnap someone, murder someone, vandalize something, beat his wife?  No doubt such crimes would result in impeachment by any reasonably sane members of the Congress, but is this what they feared?  It strikes me that what they feared was that the president would abuse his power in some fashion; he would use the powers of his office to commit wrongdoings.  That, after all, is what their concern ultimately was in establishing a nation--the use and misuse of the power of government.

That there are lawyers who would gladly make the argument that impeachment cannot be based on abuse of power reminds me of why the profession I chose is held in low esteem.  To an extent, a lawyer is required to make the argument his client wants him to make, so it may be said that these particular legal practitioners are just doing their job.  But a lawyer generally is not required to represent anyone, and it is terribly short-sighted to take the position that in effect sanctions the presidential use of power for his/her own benefit.  Sometimes a fee shouldn't be a lawyer's only concern.

If our politicians have accepted that they may conduct public affairs for their own benefit, and are eagerly seeking to convince us that is the case, as seems quite clear, it appears that our system of government has been perverted.  But it also appears that our politicians know this and are content with it.  Perhaps they relish it.  They certainly seem to be flaunting this corrupt conclusion.

Perhaps the president should be credited with realizing the depth to which our government has sunk.  Being what he is, he is simply taking advantage of it.

Being what we seemingly are, we don't particularly care that he does so, or that many of our political leaders want only to be of assistance to him.

On the Wisdom and Morality of Detachment

Our leaders are either sinister or buffoons, or sinister buffoons (the latter are arguably more dangerous, as it is impossible to take them seriously but they pose a serious threat).  Climate change is taking place, and there is little hope it will be remedied.  The rich get richer; the poor poorer.  Ignorance is not only growing, but is a point of pride.  So, for that matter, is stupidity provided it is stupidity in the service of ignorance.  Information and disinformation are omnipresent, and we seem to lack the will, or the intelligence, to distinguish between them.

It's unsurprising that we see a resurgence in philosophies or ways of life which promote detachment as a means by which we can obtain happiness, or at least tranquility.  Buddhism, Stoicism, Epicureanism, Taoism are touted these days in books, articles and websites.  Yes, even in self-help books, heaven help us.  Each of these paths in various ways, sometimes even similar ways, teach the value of indifference to things which are beyond our control, or are sources of suffering and delusion.  Stoicism, obviously, is the path I try to follow, and its similarity to the Buddhist view in several ways has been noted.

I think it clear that there is wisdom in these philosophies, particularly in times like these.  But in times like these, is detachment from all the problems, and people, who are the sources of disturbance and suffering moral?  Shouldn't we be doing something about them?

If we should be, what is it exactly that we should do?  This is what I think has to be considered whenever it's claimed that someone should do something about anything, particularly for ethical reasons.  And part of that consideration should include an assessment of what can be done effectively, i.e. what can be done that would actually make a difference?  If we do what will make no difference, it strikes me that what we do we do merely to assuage our consciences, or out of vanity.  The sad fact is that there is very little we can do that will make a difference, except perhaps voting as is possible in this and some other countries, and speaking, and writing.  But most of all in doing those things which are in our control which can make a difference at least in how we and certain others live.

Unlike some other philosophies of detachment, Stoicism at least in ancient times encouraged participation in public affairs.  Thus Stoics among Roman Senators would defy emperors, and suffer the consequences.  But few are in a position to do much of anything similar to what could be done by powerful men in antiquity, and our politics has so degenerated and has become so utterly dependent on money that the chances someone of honor would rise to levels of political power without being corrupted is most unlikely.

Detachment can be combined with morality.  But what can be done morally is limited by what we can or can't do.  So we do what Epictetus recommended:  do the best we can with what is in our power, and take the rest as it happens.  Less and less is in our power, unfortunately, but what we think and how we conduct ourselves is, and it is wisdom to be moral in what we think and do.