Skip to main content
Category

Michael Ferguson

Michael
Ferguson

The Invisible Woman — Movie Review

By Michael Ferguson

The Invisible Woman

Directed by Ralph Fiennes

 

 

 

This movie is slow moving and hard to follow.  If you don’t know much about Charles Dickens — and most Americans don’t, let’s be real — it is very hard, especially at the outset (that is, for about the first forty-five minutes) to tell what is going on, who the characters are, or what their relationships are to one another.  It takes a long time to wind up the propeller on this airplane and get it off the ground.  The plot is very simple:  an unhappily married man in midlife meets a fresh young woman and has an affair with her.  The affair goes badly, however, and they end up separating.  That is about all that happens.  So in a story like that the interest is going to be in the psychological intricacies of the characters and their relationships to one another.  But this film does not succeed in that aspect.  It is called “The Invisible Woman.”  Presumably, that refers to Nellie (Felicity Jones), but it could more aptly refer to Charles Dickens’ wife, Mary, (Susanna Hislop), who is given short shrift in the movie, and presumably also in life.  More broadly, everyone in this movie is invisible, including Charles Dickens (Ralph Fiennes).  None of the characters are well drawn.  We do see Charles Dickens’ vitality, energy, and his love of celebrity and the acclaim he received for being a famous writer.  But we see nothing of what made him tick as a writer, why he wrote the things that he wrote, what inspired him, or the dynamics of his relationships with his women.  Nellie is an aloof, self-absorbed young woman, who seems oddly conservative for a man like Charles Dickens.  They seem to break up — sort of — after a train wreck in which Nellie is injured.  She goes on and establishes a life for herself after Dickens, but none of it has any rhyme or reason.  A lot of time and attention and expense has been spent on costumes, settings, and creating the cinematic spectacle.  The result, I feel, is rather overstaged.  This striving for cinematic perfection gives the film an unreal, illusory quality.  Perhaps it mirrors the way the characters and the affair have been portrayed.  The whole thing comes off as sanitized and romanticized, which the nineteenth century definitely wasn’t, nor was anything in Charles Dickens’ books.  I don’t believe anything in this movie, and it did not make me want to read the book.  It is the kind of movie where the more I think about it, the worse it gets.   I guess that is an indication that I should stop now, but you get the idea.

Falstaff — San Francisco Opera Performance Review

By Michael Ferguson

Falstaff

San Francisco Opera Performance

November 2, 2013

 

 

Every time I go to the opera I am struck by how conservative it is.  It has to be the most conservative art form in its philosophical and social outlook.  Falstaff exemplifies this beneath a rollicking, lighthearted surface.  It is a fast moving, involved plot line.  It is harder to follow on paper than in the stage realization.  If you just read the synopsis, it seems complicated, because there are so many characters and relationships to keep straight, but when you see it, everything is clear and natural.

The production is excellent.  The cast and orchestra are all of special merit.  The sets were not particularly imaginative or noteworthy, but they were effective and satisfactory.  Falstaff is the weighty center of the story.   His dominating presence carries the performance, very effectively portrayed by Bryn Terfel.  In contrast to The Flying Dutchman, which is a static, repetitious, psychological drama where almost nothing happens, Falstaff is nonstop action with a minimum of theorizing.  But it is not at all clear what the message is, or if there is one.  It seems rather confused and mixed up.

Falstaff is presented as an aging rogue, hopelessly deluded about himself, pursing younger (married) women whom he has no chance of winning.  The women take exception to his misguided interest and spend the whole play making sport of it and taking cruel, sadistic vengeance upon him.  It suggests the mean spirited side of Halloween.  Beneath the playful pretense, there is sharp-edged animosity.  Men are presented as bumbling fools (except for Fenton), Falstaff as delusionally grandiose, Ford as delusionally jealous.  Women are manipulative, conniving, controlling, and cruel, while superficially presenting as virtuous and innocent.  It is very simplistic and simpleminded.

I liked way the sadism and cruelty were emphasized in the third act.  During the scene at Herne’s Oak the fairies and goblins appear in white costumes with pointed hats reminiscent of the Ku Klux Klan and carrying a cross to boot.  They then proceed to pepper Falstaff with all manner of abuse as he is lying helplessly on the ground.  It was rather excessively sadistic, I thought.  I was wondering if they were going to set that cross on fire.  I’m not one to insist on political correctness, but this was a rather odd sight to see in San Francisco:  the Ku Klux Klan torturing a helpless victim underneath a tree with the presumption of moral rectitude on the side of the torturers.  It was another graphic representation of the persecution of male desire that is so rampant in this society.  The whole community gangs up on old Falstaff just because he wants to have an affair with a miserably married woman whose jealous, possessive husband imagines her having affairs behind his back at every opportunity and regards marriage as the bane of his life.  It doesn’t really make sense, because if Falstaff is such a ridiculous figure who is not to be taken seriously, then why is it so necessary to mobilize the entire community to reign down this excessive punishment on him?  Maybe Falstaff is more of a threat than he is given credit for.  It is supposed to be comic and funny, but there really isn’t anything to laugh at.  Maybe my sense of humor has been poisoned by modern life.

In the end all is forgiven and we see the triumph of marriage after its being under withering attack throughout the whole drama.  This is what I mean by conservatism.  Traditional (Catholic Christian) values always seem to triumph in these operas.   Dissenters are vilified and punished and things are left pretty much the way they were at the outset.  If you like things the way they are, and have a generally cynical attitude toward life, you might go for this.

 

 

Intimacy, Sex, and Art

By Michael Ferguson

Intimacy, Sex, and Art

 

 

That what we are and can be as persons is bound up completely with the quality of our most important personal relationships should be so obvious as to need no proof.  (Guntrip, p. 194)

 

 

This is an article I wrote for young people who are starting to grapple with the issues of human relatedness.  It was published by Kendall Hunt in a textbook that is used in college level human sexuality courses.  Having been dissatisfied with the presentation of the article in that venue, I decided to repost it here, with some revisions.

 

The three topics: intimacy, sex, and art, are closely related.  In fact, I see them as variants on a long spectrum of modes of communication of the inward heart.  Because intimacy is the most profound form of human relating and basic to the other two types, it will serve as the starting point for this discussion.  Keep in mind that intimacy is essentially communication, and it is communication of the inward heart.  By this I mean the sharing of our private inner world of thoughts, feelings, sensations, intentions, dreams, fantasies, or ideas that are in most circumstances experienced and held private within ourselves.  We all have an inner life.  We all experience the world and each other subjectively.  That is, we not only have sensations and gather information by means of our senses, but we react to those experiences, we interpret them and respond to them, in light of our previous experiences and conditioning events.  These reactions and understandings and judgments we make about our experience is not readily evident to others, although those that are closely attuned to us may have a sense of our inner states.  But this is acquired through repeated experience and careful attention.  Our bodies and our demeanor may yield some clues to some of our inner states, but most of our thoughts, feelings, intentions, and imaginings are experienced privately within ourselves.   The sharing of that private world with another person or persons is intimacy.

We live in a culture that does not value the inner life of individuals and is uneasy with the exploration and sharing of that inner life.  Americans are very outward looking and outward directed.   We like action rather than reflection.  But intimate communication and the quality of that communication is the foundation of our personal lives and our closest relationships.  It affects the social and intellectual development of children, and is a powerful motivator in all aspects of human activity.  Intimate communication reveals the structure and style of one’s personality.   It requires at least two people to be intimate, but intimacy can include more than two.  There are many ways to share our inner experience: speech, touching, movements, gestures, actions, artworks, and sex are all modes of intimate communication.   One can think of intimacy as emotional and psychological disrobing.

A persona is a mode of presenting oneself publicly in order to promote smooth functioning in society.  It is not necessarily false, although personas can often be very misleading.  At best, it is only a very partial revelation of who we are.  A persona is like a suit of clothes that we wear to meet expectations others have of us.  It is only the top layer, which allows us to carry out daily activities without causing disturbance.  There is much that goes on within us that is not revealed in how we present ourselves publicly even to close friends and family members.  Intimacy is the process of revealing those deeper layers of our inner life.  The audience for such revelations is typically small, although art is an intimate revelation that aims for a wide audience, or an undefined audience.  We will discuss the peculiar qualities of artistic communication a little further on.  But for now we will think of intimacy as communication of the inner self occurring within an interpersonal context.

Intimacy has degrees.  In an interpersonal relationship intimacy is usually reciprocal to some extent, although that reciprocity will vary.  Intimacy is rarely balanced and it is never perfect and it is never complete.  A mother’s intimacy with her infant or young child is weighted toward the child.  The mother has greater awareness of the child’s needs than the child has of the mother’s.  The intimacy of a doctor or a psychiatrist with a patient is weighted toward the patient.  In every personal relationship the degree of transparency and opacity will vary considerably from one area to another.  I like to think of relationships as having doors and windows that open and close.  Some doors open and some remain closed.  Some are closed after they have once been open.  Some windows you can see through and some you can’t.  This is intimacy.  It is highly variable depending on the person and on the relationship.

We should avoid formulating an ideal of what intimacy should be like.  Such ideals and expectations tend to be used to criticize and evaluate, and this tends to undermine intimacy.  Intimacy depends on acceptance, which is a relaxation of our defenses, expectations, and preconceptions.  Openness and receptivity are prerequisites to intimacy.   One must suspend one’s assumptions and expectations of another person in order to be intimate.  Intimacy is always full of surprises, because you really know very little of what is inside another person, and a person’s inner landscape is always in flux.  To maintain an intimate connection with another person you have to pay attention.  Rather than being something one strives for, intimacy depends on relaxation and allowing what is normally kept inward to emerge and flow freely into the mutual awareness between oneself and another.  This can be very risky.  There are good reasons why we keep many things private to ourselves.  An outlook on life and on human beings heavily committed to moral strictures and/ or to an ideal of personal behavior is an impediment to intimacy.  When a person fears judgment and censure, it is hard to be revealing.  Creating an atmosphere where a person can feel comfortable sharing what is habitually kept inside and not outwardly expressed can take considerable time and skill.  In some situations with a new person intimacy seems to appear suddenly and spontaneously.  It may yield a feeling of elation or exhilaration.  But such intimacy is only partial and often turns out to be temporary.  Intimacy has a developmental line.  It can broaden and deepen over time creating ever greater mutual awareness and interdependence, or it can shrink.  It can ebb and flow like a tide that rises and falls.  Relationships that have become dull or boring, that seem have lost their vitality,  have probably lost their intimate connection.  Small rejections and disappointments cause the doors and windows of intimacy to close.  These small alterations in the avenues of inward communication accumulate over time.  They are quite often so small and subtle that they often go unnoticed.  But their cumulative effect is that the couple begins to lose interest in one another.  One or the other might start to look elsewhere for the kind of connection they need.

Intimacy in an interpersonal context is habitual communication which creates a bond of the emotions and one’s inner personhood.  Repeated contact maintains and enhances this bond.  Intimacy tends to establish patterns of relating, small unspoken understandings and agreements.  An intimate connection that has fallen into neglect can be revived, but disuse can allow alterations in ones internal configuration to establish themselves that may make a revival of a previous intimacy difficult.

Intimacy should probably be distinguished from dependence, which is very common.  Emotional dependence, the need for the reassuring presence of another, the need for constant attention, the desperate clinging to the attention and presence of another in response to a largely unconscious premonition of abandonment or loss, is a form of one-sided intimacy akin to that of a mother with her children.  Communication and understanding flow mostly in one direction.  This kind of connection is narcissistic in the negative sense, which I will explain a little further on. It is an unbalanced form of intimacy.

Despite the many obstacles to intimacy, it is something that occurs spontaneously and naturally among people.  People want to be closely and emotionally connected to one another.  Even the most paranoid or schizoid person wants to be understood and accepted on his or her own terms.  These great public conflagrations of rage and despair such as Adam Lanza’s, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold’s, Seung-Hui Cho’s, are meant to communicate with the entire society.  The perpetrators of these spectacles don’t want to just die, they want to be noticed.  I doubt if there is any hope or expectation of understanding left in such people.  Understanding is something they have had very little of in their lives and have long given up on.  These actions are spectacular exhibitions of destruction and despair.  Mass murder is intimate because it communicates and reveals the inward heart.  The bond it creates with its victims and society is its continuing legacy of destruction.

Empathy

Intimacy in its most mature form is related to empathy.  Empathy is the ability to accurately grasp the inner life of another person, to understand how another person feels in a particular situation, to grasp the logic of their motives, to be able to anticipate their reactions or behavior.  Empathy is not to be confused with sympathy, which is an attitude of benevolence or compassion toward another person.  Empathy is strictly informative.  It says nothing about how this accurate understanding another person’s inner life will be applied.  Salesmen need empathy, politicians need empathy, con men need empathy, torturers need empathy.  And so do doctors, mothers, artists, and lovers.  Empathy is only a tool.  Like a hammer, it can be used to build a house, or to kill somebody.

Because empathy informs one of strengths, weaknesses, vulnerabilities in another, intimacy informed by empathy carries considerable risk.  One becomes vulnerable in an intimate relationship.  A person who knows you well can hurt you, and they know best how to do it.  Exposure of one’s inner self carries with it natural vulnerability.  It takes courage and self-confidence to be intimate.  Many people who lack such inner strength and confidence have difficulty becoming intimate with another person.  Some people reach a certain level of intimacy and then panic at the realization of their own vulnerability.  They may inexplicably withdraw at the very moment when the relationship seems to be close and deepening.  Because of the high level of vulnerability entailed by intimacy, trust is an important ingredient in any intimate relationship.  It is almost a prerequisite.  People who are unable to trust others due to past injuries or painful relationships have difficulty forming intimate connections to others.

Paranoid and Schizoid Defenses 

Paranoia is an abiding condition of fear coupled with mobilization for defense that has been established through repeated attacks.  It is the great enemy of intimacy.  Paranoia is a defensive system that operates on the assumption that all human relations are essentially antagonistic and exploitative.  What it is defending against is an extreme sense of vulnerability, and rage against its many persecutors.  Paranoid people simply don’t believe in constructive, nurturing, benevolent relationships.  Every good and positive outreach toward them is converted into something hostile or manipulative.  If you succeed in penetrating the formidable defenses of a severely paranoid person, what you will find is a wounded, enraged person who sees himself as the victim of attacks from all directions.  You may find yourself playing a starring role in his persecutory delusions — not a position you want to be in.

Another common defensive system that seems to be increasingly popular in America is the schizoid.  The schizoid person withdraws from human contact.  They attempt to shrink the emotional life across the board keeping human interactions and emotional expression to an absolute minimum.  Intimacy tends to be avoided at all costs, and when ventured into is an area of great difficulty.  The schizoid challenge is disengagement.  You can’t reach the person on an intimate level.  The paranoid is engaged, but it is a hostile, destructive engagement.

They [the schizoids] are the people who have deep-seated doubts about the reality and viability of their very “self,” who are ultimately found to be suffering from varying degrees of depersonalization, unreality, the dread feeling of “not belonging,” of being fundamentally isolated and out of touch with their world.

The schizoid problem is the problem of those “who feel cut off, apart, different, unable to become involved in any real relationships.  (Guntrip, p. 148)

These two defensive styles in a range of degrees and combinations are very widespread in American society and have influenced our laws and our culture to the extent that intimate relationships are difficult to achieve and maintain in contemporary America.  Intimate relations are seen as hazardous — which they are — and this feeds the paranoid’s need for defense and the schizoid’s need to withdraw into isolation.  Intimate relationships are therefore not encouraged, or even actively discouraged, and sometimes persecuted — which tends to intensify the trend toward isolation.

The reasons for this increasing cultural trend are deep and complex and would make a good book, if someone out there wants to write it.  But one important piece of evidence, I think, is the growth and success of science and technology, especially over the last couple of centuries.  Science looks at the world in a totally impersonal way.  Explanations of natural phenomena are sought in terms of mechanical causes and effects, not for personal reasons having to do with the human world.  The success of this style of perceiving and relating to the natural world has enormously extended the human capacity to exploit, subdue, and control Nature to a degree unimaginable only a few centuries ago.  This success has encouraged its application to all areas of life.  Schizoid personalities are very common among scientists and mathematicians.  “Objectivity” means removing oneself from the matter at hand, perceiving and understanding a matter apart from one’s personal interest in it.  People are increasingly looking at one another in this depersonalized, utilitarian fashion.

This is consistent and very congenial to the values of corporate capitalism which are focused entirely on externals like production, exchange, transportation, organization, and profit.  The growth of corporations over the last century and a half, whose sole rationale and purpose for existence is to maximize profit, with all other values being subordinated to that overbearing imperative, have devalued the personal life of everyone in that economic system.  Personal happiness, interpersonal satisfaction, and sexual fulfillment, have no exchange value and therefore play no role in the economy.  Increasingly one’s personal life is forced to the sidelines as earning a living takes an ever greater proportion of time, energy, and attention.   Modern life creates numerous obstacles to forming intimate relationships and places great challenges upon them, and this has created a society full of lonely, disconnected people hungry for connection yet finding it increasingly difficult to make the kind of fulfilling connections they seek.

What is the value of intimacy?  Why strive for intimacy in our relations with others?  Intimacy is the antidote to loneliness.  Humans are by nature social.  We are a species that has always survived in groups rather than as isolated individuals, like, say, orangutans.  Humans need connection to others and that need is established in the earliest interactions between an infant and its mother.  The lack of such a connection is experienced as painful distress.  An abandoned infant will cry until it is exhausted.  The need for reassuring connection to other human beings is deep in our nature and intimacy fulfills that need for connection.  Our experience of ourselves is from the outset defined and established in relation to others, first and foremost, to our mothers.  This earliest intimacy with our mothers establishes the development of our sense of self, the narcissistic structure of our personalities.  This defines our need for intimacy and how that need is expressed and sought.

Narcissism

Narcissism in the broadest sense refers to how one experiences oneself as a human being.  It refers to one’s feelings about oneself and one’s abilities, one’s personal appearance, one’s physical capabilities and bodily integrity, and how one sees oneself in relation to others.  It has to do with how one feels about life in general.  Is it good?  Is it bad?  It is worthwhile, or not?  Should I continue living or not?  These are narcissistic issues because they refer back to the self and the engagement of the self in life. 

There are positive and negative aspects to narcissism.  Narcissism in the positive sense is the regard one feels for oneself and one’s own well being.  The care one takes of one’s own body, one’s attention to grooming and appearance, the sensitivity one has to the impression one makes on others, the care and attention one gives to one’s own health and well being, the satisfaction one feels in accomplishment or the realization of ambition, the sense of satisfaction one feels in helping others, teaching others, giving to others, one’s sense of participating and belonging to a larger group.  Good parenting is narcissism in the positive sense, the satisfaction one takes in seeing one’s children grow up healthy and constructively.  Narcissism in the positive sense is feeling a sense of abundance in oneself, having the ability and the resources to share with others and enhance the lives of others.  In a word, self-esteem.  The satisfaction one takes in giving an appropriate gift is a narcissistic satisfaction.  On the other hand, an inappropriate gift, a gift that is overly extravagant, or is otherwise not suited to the recipient shows a lack of empathy, a lack of understanding of the other person, a gift given to enhance the giver in his own eyes rather than from an appropriate understanding of the needs of the receiver is an example of narcissism in the negative sense, of deficient empathy and using others to enhance one’s own self-esteem or sense of grandiosity.  Pathological narcissism is obliviousness to the needs and feelings of others.  It is not necessarily malicious, although it often comes off that way.  It is actually a deficit in emotional perception.  Pathological narcissism cannot see beyond its own needs and interests because of a great underlying sense of vulnerability.  Pathological narcissism limits one’s capacity for intimacy because one’s need to enhance one’s own self image is so great it overwhelms and excludes the ability to be receptive and open to the needs and feelings of another.  Narcissism in the negative sense tends to exclude empathy or uses empathy selfishly and unsympathetically without consideration of the needs or feelings of others.  The narcissistic structure of one’s personality determines the degree of intimacy of which one is capable and the character of the intimate relations one is able to establish, whether constructive and enhancing, or destructive.

Art

Art is also communication of the inward heart.  An artist realizes his own inner self, or, let’s say, an aspect of it, in a work or performance that can be viewed or shared by a public audience.  This impulse to create and share one’s internal self is a narcissistic need.  Not everyone has this drive to create and share one’s inner heart through external symbolic representations.  It is a peculiarity of artists, the origins of which we will not explore here.  Art is a form of intimacy in the sense that the artist shares his or her inward self and exposes it to an external audience.  The size of the audience does not matter.  What is important is that art reaches out for connection.  Art is not masturbation.  It is not something you do for your own private comfort or amusement.  Art connects you to other people.  There is a narcissistic satisfaction in creating something with great technical skill that others can recognize and admire.  But what is essential to art is not this narcissistic satisfaction that the artist feels in his creative accomplishment, but rather the outreach to others from the core of the artist’s inner self that a work of art represents.   By creating something external to oneself, as opposed to simply daydreaming or fantasizing, one creates the possibility of a connection to others through their perception of one’s artwork.  When a person comes into contact with a work of art, they are coming into contact with a representation of the inner self of the artist who created it.  One does not create randomly.  This does not mean that a viewer can readily grasp the emotional and psychological meaning of a work of art upon encountering it.  It takes considerable time and experience to understand an artistic language, and artists are often deliberately obscure and idiosyncratic in how they present themselves in their work.  However, it is my view that artistic effectiveness is related to communicative effectiveness rather than to obscurity.

Architectural blueprints, anatomical diagrams, maps, graphs, are depictions of external reality.  They are meticulous assemblages of facts, measurements, and objective characteristics that can be seen and verified by anyone.  They are not usually thought of as art, because they do not reflect the inner self, the maker’s subjective reaction or perspective on the subject presented.  When Picasso did his painting of the Weeping Woman (1937) he was not trying to recreate this woman in a true to life rendering.  Rather, this image reflects how Picasso saw this woman and how he chose to depict her out of all the many ways he could have chosen to do this painting.  This painting is a subjective view of the woman, not an attempt to describe her body or her character with objective validity.  Art is about illusions.  It is about how the artist needs to see the world, not necessarily how the world is.  And that is entirely based on his personal psychology.  Even the Dutch masters who drew and painted meticulously accurate portraits of faces and people still had a personal style of their own.  They had to choose how to portray their subjects, what manner of dress they should wear, how they should be posed, the circumstances in which they are set, the intensity and direction of the light, the mood or facial expression to be portrayed.  These are all personal choices of the artist that go into the creation of a “realistic” portrait.  So in this sense art is always a reflection of the subjectivity of the artist.  Art is a partial intimacy because what the artist chooses to present of himself is carefully selected and meticulously prepared for public presentation to obtain a calculated effect.  The intimacy of art tends to flow in one direction, from the artist to the viewer.

Reciprocity, that is, the viewer’s experience or reaction to the artwork is not usually experienced directly by the artist, except for admiring applause or negative reviews.  But that is not the most important impact of art upon its audience.  The important and lasting impact of art is usually not expressed directly, and that is the expansion of the inner awareness of the viewer of an artwork, or an alteration in his or her perception and understanding of the external world, or of himself or herself.

I disagree with John Cage that art is non-intentional, that its purpose is to ” sober and quiet the mind, thus making it susceptible to divine influences.” (John Cage, johncage.org/autobiographical statement )  This conception of artistic purpose rejects the communicative function of art and is the polar opposite from my own view.  My understanding of art is narcissistic in the sense that it starts from the self of the artist and connects the artist to other selves through the communicative means of the artwork.  Cage’s conception of art stems from Zen Buddhist ideas that seek the annihilation of the self.  Art becomes a means of “emptying” the self, reducing the self towards the ideal of nothingness.  Nothing could be further from or more opposed to the point of view I am advancing here.  My view is that life is a process of the growth of the self and the enhancement of the self through fulfilling connections to others, as stated in the epigraph at the outset.  Art is a means toward that enhancement and fulfillment as is intimacy in personal relationships.  Zen Buddhism essentially elevates the schizoid position of detachment and isolation to an ideal of human development, a view I am totally out of sympathy with.

What is the value of art?  Art expands one’s awareness of the internal life and enables one to perceive people, the external world, the social environment, and one’s inner life in new ways.  Art alters our way of looking at things and experiencing ourselves.  In that sense art can be educational in that it offers modes of experiencing ourselves and the external world that might not be available through other channels.  Art can change people in that it alters their perceptions and awakens them to aspects of inner and outer reality of which they may not be aware.  In that sense art is volatile and can be subversive if it seeks to illuminate that which is officially suppressed.  Art fosters intimacy by expanding awareness of the inner self and directing attention toward reflection on the inner life.  Failure to educate in the arts, minimizing attention to the arts, devaluing the arts, indicate a lack of value placed on the development of the inner self.

Sex

What does all of this have to do with sex?  Sex is also communication of the inward heart and an expression of the narcissistic structure of the personality.  It falls within the broader concept of intimacy, but it has peculiarities that set it apart from other forms of intimate communication.  Sex is communication through the body that seeks the satisfaction of lust.  Lust is a powerful connecting emotion.  Lust impels one to seek contact with another person, and it is contact of a particular kind, namely contact leading to sexual arousal and genital contact.  However, many other kinds of touch and many other aspects of intimacy occur within the context of sexual activity.  Touch, physical affection, and bodily closeness are enormously reassuring and comforting.  These needs for comfort, reassurance, and affection that occur alongside the satisfaction of lust are highly intimate and satisfy a deep longing for connection and bonding between people.  This is perhaps the deepest form of intimacy because it is a sharing of the most intensely felt bodily and psychological longings.  How one expresses and seeks to satisfy lust and the need for bodily closeness reflects the narcissistic structure of one’s personality.  Sex has a lot in common with art in that the mode in which one seeks to satisfy lust reflects one’s narcissistic needs just as the art that one produces reflects the narcissistic structure of the artist’s inner self.  Sex says a lot about who you are.  Sex is not only about the satisfaction of lust.  Sex is a paradigmatic expression of narcissism.  Because sex is communication, sex tells you where you are in a relationship with another person.  When sex is going well and people find satisfaction and mutual pleasure in one another, it signifies a strong bond and a positive avenue of communication and understanding.  Of course this is not the only aspect of a relationship that is important and it is not all there is to intimate communication.  Some people use sex to cover up or avoid other issues that may be a source of discomfort.  Sex can also be used to conceal and mislead.  A dishonest heart can use sex to manipulate and destroy.  The intimacy of sex is only partial.  Sex is one aspect of intimacy, but a very important one because it embodies the energetic connection of lust and sexual arousal.  But do not think that because you have sex with a person you know everything important about them.

Kissing

There are numerous theories on the origin of kissing, and kissing can, of course, have many different meanings.  Some cultures do not kiss at all, or very little.  References to kissing in Western culture go back to ancient times, and the era of exploration and colonialism, as well as modern media have spread the practice of kissing around the world.  Psychoanalytic theory sees the propensity to kiss stemming from the feelings of warmth, safety, nurturing, and well being in the infant’s nursing at the mother’s breast.  Clamping the mouth on the nipple is a means of incorporation, of sustenance, dependence and survival.  In adults the meanings and style of kissing can be many, but kissing always carries a message related to nurturing or incorporation.  Gentle kisses of affection, pecks on the cheek and so forth, impart a message of affection, good feeling, warmth, reassurance, and nurturing.  Kisses of passion and desire communicate a will to incorporate, to possess, consume, an emotional neediness, an inner longing and loneliness for which one is seeking solace in the other.  Kissing — or not kissing — reveals how attracted a person is to your body, how much they need you, how much they like you, their willingness to depend on you, and the degree to which they can reciprocate your feelings and empathize with your needs.  All of this can be communicated through kissing.  Oral sex is a further extension of these feelings and needs of both giving and incorporating through the mouth, but applied to the genitals and the emotions of sexual arousal.  The use of the mouth as a body connector is a very powerful and effective means of intimate communication.

Orgasm

Orgasm is understudied and not well understood.  Most of what is known about orgasm has issued from studies of epilepsy and people who have had nerve damage, spinal and/or brain injuries.  Physiologically, orgasm shares a lot of characteristics with epileptic seizures.  There is no scientific consensus on the definition of orgasm or how it should be conceptualized.  For this reason I am putting forward my own conceptualization of it here.

Sexual desire, lust, sexual arousal, and orgasm are hypnotic processes.  They shift our awareness to special subjective states that mobilize emotional and physical response systems that are normally dormant during everyday experience.  Sexual desire, or lust, is the perception of the sexuality of another person.  It is looking at another person and feeling the possibility of sexual activity, creating a visualization of the other in a sexual context.  It is a conscious awareness of desirable sexual interaction, which is a continuing state.  It is different, from simply perceiving a person’s existence, or the clothes they are wearing, or their ability to perform some task, or their physical characteristics.  What makes it different is that it mobilizes our personal emotional response system and prepares us for sexual arousal in a way that other kinds of perception do not, and therefore it is an altered mode of awareness.  Sexual arousal is the next level of intensification.  The body becomes mobilized in anticipation of sexual activity.  Internal physical sensations become more prominent in our awareness and other considerations that might inhibit sexual arousal tend to be excluded from consciousness.  Arousal is intensified through physical stimulation of the genitals and other regions of the body as well as psychic stimuli such as sound, scenario, internal visualization (fantasy), and perhaps smell.  At a certain threshold orgasm is triggered.  Involuntary physical processes are set in motion accompanied by intense awareness of pleasurable sensation that excludes nearly everything else.  Orgasm is a state where physical pleasure overwhelms consciousness and obliterates the ability to attend to other inputs to consciousness.  Some people see a relationship between orgasm and the  “loss of self” reported in some mystical experiences.  My feeling is that orgasm differs from these mystical experiences in that in orgasm the self does not disintegrate.  The self remains intact.  But normal consciousness, which ordinarily processes input from numerous internal and external sources simultaneously, becomes overwhelmed during orgasm by internal physical sensations which become extraordinarily dominant.  Other modes of perception and awareness are not extinguished.  One can still see and hear during orgasm, but, orgasm is a state where interoception (awareness of the internal state of one’s body) is magnified to a unique predominance.  This makes it special.  One must be able to relax one’s external and internal perceptual apparatus in order to orgasm.  Ordinarily we are bombarded by sensate experience from the external world as well as from our own internal thought processes.  In order to orgasm one must be able to allow those perceptions to recede from consciousness so that the physical pleasure of the orgasm occupies one’s awareness to the near exclusion of everything else.  This is a hypnotic process.  It is not entirely voluntary, but it is conditioned by experience.  It is the capability of awareness to shift in a specific way under the conditions of intense sexual stimulation.  One does not orgasm from driving a car or vacuuming the carpet.  Orgasm is a special type of conscious experience that can only occur under very specialized conditions.  In my view, this is the way orgasm should be understood.

Komisaruk, et al. (2006) argue that orgasm is not a reflex, but rather a perception,  (p. 237f.)  and I concur with this  valuable insight.  That is, orgasm is not generated by muscular contractions caused by genital stimulation, which, in turn, lead to a reflexive action in the spinal column.  Genital stimulation mobilizes neurons throughout the body sending greater and greater levels of excitation to the brain.  The muscular contractions are indeed reflexive and can be elicited in the spinal column even when the spinal cord is severed.  But orgasm is not produced unless those muscular contractions are perceived by the brain as sensations.  This supports my view that orgasm should be understood as essentially a psychological phenomenon, not simply as a physical process.  The physical concomitants of orgasm are, of course, noteworthy and important, but Komisaruk and his collaborators have shown that the physical processes themselves do not constitute orgasm.  They can occur without the experience of orgasm, and orgasm can occur independently of physical arousal.  Therefore orgasm must be understood as essentially a subjective experience, a particular state of altered awareness, that is usually (although not necessarily) accompanied by specific physiological processes under the conditions of intense sexual arousal.  Orgasm is therefore primarily a narcissistic experience rather than a communicative one, although sharing orgasms is a powerful bonding experience, because sharing the special ecstatic state of orgasm is highly intimate. 

Sadism and Masochism

Sadism is the pleasure we take in the suffering of another.  It is a spectrum that extends from gentle teasing to torturing someone to death.  Sadism reflects ambivalence.  It is essentially a hostile, destructive impulse that is mitigated by feelings of good will, love, guilt, and perhaps fear.  We need the person toward whom we feel hostility, so we don’t want to destroy them.  But it feels good to see them suffer.  It is the expression of the suppressed hostile impulse that is pleasurable.  The spectrum is defined by the mix of hostile and positive feelings toward the victim.  The greater the hostility, the greater the cruelty and the darker the expression. As the mitigating feelings tend toward zero, it becomes simply cruelty.  Mild sadism is ordinary and commonplace.  Jokes are often mildly sadistic and jokes that are overly hostile can lose their humor.  Sadism is intimate because it expresses our conflicted feelings toward another person, and the pleasure we feel in the pain or discomfort of another is something usually kept private.  Sadism is common in sexual activity to a greater or lesser degree, because sexual relationships are conflicted and often mixed with hostile aspects.

Masochism is using adversity to one’s advantage and seeking it out for that purpose.  I see it as a broader concept than sadism and it is related to depression and despair.  Masochism is an adaptation of people who are habituated to suffering and adversity.  The erotic aspect of it, feeling sexual arousal in response to pain, or pain as an intensifier of erotic feeling, comes from associating sexual arousal or love with painful experiences, neglect, disappointment, and abuse.  One learns that to love, or to be aroused, hurts, and one comes to expect, or even to need, that conjunction of feelings.  In my eyes, masochism is harder to understand than sadism because in order to understand it one must grasp a lifetime of painful experiences that may not be easily accessible.  In an erotic context it is not a neat complement to sadism, in general.  It is much more complicated, whereas sadism, although conflicted, is relatively straightforward.  For that reason I don’t like the term ‘sadomasochism’.  It squashes together two things that I think are very different and don’t necessarily complement one another.

Love

Love is a word that is used in many different ways to mean many different things.  I tend to avoid it because I always fear that I am giving the wrong impression.  People attach very different meanings to ‘love’ and it raises all sorts of expectations that may not be realistic.  However, it is enormously reassuring and people love to hear it, so we must deal with it.

I will start with my definition of love in the best sense.  Mature love is good will guided by empathy and tempered with a respect for the separateness and individuality of the other person.  Empathy is very important.  Empathy means you understand how the other person feels and what his or her real needs are.  Most of what is called ‘love’ is not empathic and this leads to all sorts of turmoil.  I disagree with defining love in terms of a willingness to sacrifice on behalf of the beloved.  This is masochistic.  It implies that you are giving up something you would rather not in order to benefit the beloved.  You are inflicting some suffering upon yourself in order that your loved one may enjoy some benefit.  Love is certainly characterized by a giving spirit and a desire to enhance and bestow advantage upon one’s beloved.  But rather than self denial, love represents a sharing of the abundance of one’s physical and emotional resources.  It does not necessarily expect anything in return, but it embodies a hope for attachment and good will and an intertwining with the life of the beloved.   Love is an expansion of the self, an attempt to complete the self through emotional resonances and attachment to what is valued and idealized in the other.  Whatever is done out of love does not occur beyond good and evil, as Nietzsche once suggested (Beyond Good and Evil, 153).  Love can never be an excuse for reckless or destructive actions.  Love lies squarely within the framework of our values and constructive human relationships.  Mature love is closely related to respect for others and responsibility for oneself. 

Our common notion of “romantic” love is characterized by strong emotion, passion, elation, anticipation, despair, jealousy, possessiveness, dependence and obsessive preoccupation with the beloved.  This is what people usually mean by being “in love.”  This kind of love tends to be self-centered and unempathic, often lacking a realistic perception of the beloved as a complete person, sometimes ignoring serious character flaws in the other, and often a maintaining distorted understanding of the relationship itself.  It is sometimes manifest as a furious, psychological dependence that devours and emotionally destroys the other through insatiable demands for attention and control.  This is not mature love, in any way, shape, or form.  However, these experiences can have great emotional and psychological significance.  Relationships that start out this way can sometimes evolve into more mature forms of love without losing the passion and zest with which they began.  This romantic kind of love brings people together, but it is not what keeps them together in a satisfying relationship over a long period of time.  Empathy, good will, and respect are much more important for healthy, durable loving relationships than “love.”  Intimacy is an important element in a healthy loving relationship because intimacy informs and bonds.  Intimacy enables one to be close to another person, to know the other person in depth, to be in touch with the other person’s feelings, concerns, and needs.  Intimacy gives a sense of connection, mutual dependence, and support.  We do not face the world alone, we face it together as a couple giving strength and support to one another, informed by our intimate knowledge of one another and energized by lust and sexual pleasure.  It’s a good way to live, if you can achieve it.

 

Notes

 

Cage, John (1990) johncage.org/autobiographical statement.

Guntrip, Harry (1973)  Psychoanalytic Theory, Therapy, and the Self.  New York:  Basic Books.

Kirshenbaum, Sheril (2011)  The Science of Kissing:  What Our Lips are Telling Us.  New York:  Hachette Book Group.

Komisaruk, Barry. R.; Beyer-Flores, Carlos; & Whipple, Beverly. (2006)  The Science of Orgasm.   Baltimore:  Johns Hopkins University Press.

Nietzsche, Freidrich (1989 [1886])  Beyond Good and Evil.   Translated by Walter Kaufmann.  New York:  Vinage/Random House.

Salinger — Film Review

By Michael Ferguson

Salinger

Directed by Shane Salerno

 

 

This is an outstanding documentary about the life of J. D. Salinger.  I was impressed with how comprehensive it is.  They packed a lot into two hours.  Having said that, there was only scanty information about Salinger’s own childhood, family background, and years growing up.  They did point out that Salinger’s family was well to do, that he grew up in Manhattan, that he was kicked out of numerous prep schools, that he went to a military school, and so forth, but his relationships with his immediate family members are not explored in great depth, particularly his sister, Doris, who is barely mentioned, although they did remark that his mother approved of everything he did, which I think was an important antecedent of the indefatigable self confidence he had in himself and in his writing.  The significance of this lack of exploration of his childhood and developmental years within his birth family is that the film emphasizes his experience in the military during World War 2 as being a crucial influence on his later writing, and perhaps on his character as well.  I was surprised at how extensive and significant his military experience was.  He landed in France on D-Day.  That was his initiation into combat.  He was one of the first to enter the concentration camp at Dachau.  He was an intelligence officer who interrogated prisoners and ex-Nazis after the war.  He was hospitalized for PTSD.  The film does make a compelling case that the war experience strongly influenced the stories A Perfect Day for Bananafish and For Esmé — with Love and Squalor.  It also documents that Salinger was working on The Catcher in the Rye during the campaign against the Germans.  I am not so convinced that The Catcher in the Rye has as strong a relationship to his war experience, nor his subsequent writing about the Glass family.  I think one has to look into his childhood and his experience growing up in the upper middle class American society that he came from for this.  I was surprised to hear about his first marriage to a young Nazi woman, Sylvia Welter, whom he interrogated after the war — very contrary to military rules at the time.  The marriage did not last long.  He brought her back to the United States, introduced her to his family, and shortly thereafter broke up with her.  Whatever became of her?

I was glad they included the interviews with his daughter, Margaret, and with Joyce Maynard.  However, there is not a word from his son, Matthew, who differs markedly with his sister Margaret’s account of their family and of their father.  Salinger’s asceticism in only obliquely alluded to, but the film does indicate that this was manifest in his character from an early age.  (See my article in the Journal of Homosexuality for a more extensive analysis of the sexual aspects of The Catcher in the Rye.1)

The film offers extensive interviews with people who knew Salinger, who worked with him, who were interested in him and wanted to know him.  The film tends to be honorific in its approach, which is OK, I guess.  Countless people of his own generation, and still today, resonate with his characters and their sense of alienation and loneliness.  Personally, my view of Salinger has evolved over the years.  I do not regard his as favorably as I once did.  I think I understand him better now, and I see his limitations as a human being much more clearly — and they bear a relationship to his writing and the messages it communicates.

What really got my attention was the list of forthcoming publications at the very end of the film.  They are due to start appearing beginning in 2015 through 2020.  The titles and subject matter look fascinating.  Salinger was indeed writing during all those years of seclusion in New Hampshire, and the books are due to be opened and the contents proclaimed on the housetops.  When they are you’ll be seeing more reviews here.  This film is an excellent overview of Salinger’s life, full of interesting interviews, well documented, highly informative, and offering a positive, almost deferential attitude toward Salinger and his work.  While it does not do everything, it does more than I expected about a person whom it has been very hard to find out anything concrete for nearly half a century.

 

 

 

1.  Ferguson, Michael (2010)  Book Review of The Catcher in the RyeJournal of Homosexuality 57: 810-818.

Mephistopheles — San Francisco Opera Performance Review

By Michael Ferguson

Mephistopheles

San Francisco Opera Performance

September 14, 2013

 

 

The title of this opera is Mephistopheles.  Mephistopheles is supposed to be the Devil.   But this is not about Mephistopheles or the nature of evil.   Mephistopheles becomes little more than a tour guide in this opera.  It seems to be about Faust more than it is about anything, the aging scholar who trades his soul to the Devil.  But it is not clear what he traded it for or what either of them got in the bargain.  This opera is a series of disconnected, incomplete vignettes that do not form a coherent narrative or portray any characters with clarity, or depth.     

It is a mediocre work by a mediocre mind.  I don’t understand why they even staged this.   The person who wrote this, Arrigo Bioto, does not understand evil.  This opera reflects a typical religious ascetic mentality that associates evil with the body, sex, and especially women, who are the inspirers and the objects of lust.  It is a celebration of conservatism, pessimism, asceticism, and archaic religious nonsense.   This man is not a deep thinker, not insightful, has no interesting ideas or perspective, and no psychological sophistication.  I have an extremely low opinion of him as an intellect. 

I wouldn’t say a word against the performance, however.  The imaginative staging, the singers, the chorus, the dancers, the costumes, the lighting and sets, create a brilliant spectacle that saves this lumbering monstrosity from becoming a total quagmire.  Unfortunately, all of this splendid display is in the service of an insipid concept.  If you can just sit there and watch it for its visual brilliance, without thinking too much about what it means or asking yourself what it is all about, you might like it.  The nudity, the strip tease, the simulated sex, the dangling penises, are all interesting to watch.  If you don’t get much chance to see naked human bodies you might be titillated, but this lurid sensuality does not save the story line, and it is done with a lightheartedness that underlines the shallowness of the whole performance.  It is cartoonish.  These are caricatures rather than characters.  It is not interesting, and it becomes increasingly ridiculous and repulsive as it goes along. 

The ending is extremely confusing and idiotic.  Faust, after making a bargain to sell his soul to the Devil, ends up going to heaven.  Margherita, his lover, whose mother he poisons and whose child is drowned in the ocean is executed (ascetics always blame women for sexual misadventures and punish them severely).   Mephistopheles is just a footnote to all of this.  He is a kind of master of ceremonies, but is never a principal in the action. 

The nature of evil could be an interesting subject and the Devil could be a fascinating character for dramatic portrayal.   This opera does not do justice to either of these topics.  Someone should write a different opera on this subject.  This one should fall into deserved oblivion.  It is quite long and slow moving.  There are two long intermissions.  There is not enough substance to make it worth sitting through.  This art form needs an upgrade.    

Blue Jasmine — Film Review

By Michael Ferguson

Blue Jasmine

Directed by Woody Allen

 

This film is outstanding.  It is the best Woody Allen film since Annie Hall.  In fact, it may be his best ever.  These are iconic characters whose struggles and disintegration capture the spirit of our own time.  This will become an American classic in the tradition of Death of a Salesman, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Godfather, The Great Gatsby, Long Day’s Journey into Night.  The story is complex with many strands and subplots.  But it does not become a jungle.  Like a well written symphony, it is balanced, properly paced, and modulated.  The focus is maintained on the two lead characters, Jasmine (Cate Blanchett) and her adopted sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins).  Jasmine recalls Blanch in A Streetcar Named Desire, an extremely vulnerable woman whose comfortable affluent life is disintegrating and taking her down with it.

But the film goes beyond being a psychological study of one woman, however representative of her time and class she may be.  This film makes a statement about the vacuousness and bankruptcy of the American money culture, which has come to dominate our increasingly beleaguered middle classes, who anxiously strive for success and status as defined by the accumulation of wealth and its accoutrements.  Jasmine’s husband, Hal, (Alec Baldwin) serves as an allusion to Bernie Madoff and the rapaciousness of the Wall Street bankers and executives that brought about the recent financial malaise that is still afflicting much of the country.  His crimes and dishonesty destroyed not only himself and his wife, Jasmine, but also took away the hopes and dreams and opportunities of numerous of lower class people with whom he came in contact, such as, Ginger and Augie (Andrew Dice Clay).  This illustrates the impact that the crimes of the banks and finance world have had on everyday working people across America: dimming their prospects and creating difficulties and obstacles and burdens on their lives that will weigh them down for many years.

The central theme of the film is the arduousness of the descent that many Americans are now experiencing in their lifestyle, standard of living, and sense of well being: the emotional toll this is taking on individuals, personal relationships, and families.  A wide swath of the American population knows that life used to be better in America — much better — not only as a statistical abstraction, but in their own particular circumstances.  And there is a connection between that general degradation in the quality of life in America and the unfettered pursuit of wealth without bound by this class of voracious, unscrupulous hustlers in the finance world who effect a superficial garb of legitimacy.

The film does offer a ray of hope in the straightforward honesty and simple workaday lifestyle of Ginger and Chili (Bobby Cannavale).  Although they are both flawed people, their flaws turn out not to be fatal to their human bonds and their psychological balance.  There is a vibrance and vitality in their sharing of simple pleasures and daily concerns that leaves one with a feeling that they might be able to go on and create a workable life together.  But they are clearly vulnerable and the stability and the hopes that they share today could easily be derailed by the intrusion of the collapsing lives of those in the upper tiers of society represented by Jasmine.  The film is a dismal tragedy, but there are many comic aspects to it that provide a lighthearted feel that allays the overall grimness and prevents it from becoming dreary or oppressive to watch.  It ends on a note of ambiguity in a minor key.   Go see it.  It is a classic portrayal of key trends in contemporary American life.

Hannah Arendt — Film Review

By Michael Ferguson

Hannah Arendt

Directed by Margarethe von Trotta

 

 

This is my kind of film.  It is a film about ideas, about the big picture, about the ambiguities and contradictions in human nature, about broad philosophical implications of ordinary events.  If you have never had a serious thought in your life, if you like to go to the movies to be entertained, to escape from your humdrum existence, to have your fundamental preconceptions, your basic world view and moral outlook on life confirmed and validated by some contrived story line and stereotypic, one-dimensional characters, then don’t go see this.  It’s not for you.  The friend I went with was yawning.

In contrast to the previous film I reviewed about Wilhelm Reich, this film, also a dramatization, is much better conceived and much better executed.  It is altogether a superior effort.  The character of Hannah Arendt is effectively and convincingly created by Barbara Sukowa.   I also liked Julia Jentsch, who played Lotte.   The nature of her relationship to Hannah Arendt wasn’t exactly clear.  She was not a relative.  She served as a kind of secretary and all purpose assistant, but the relationship seemed to have a marked personal quality as well.

Although the film effectively draws the character of Hannah Arendt and summarizes many of the major aspects of her life, the central concern of this film is her coverage of the trial of Adolf Eichmann in the early 1960s for the New Yorker magazine, and the aftermath of its publication.  Eichmann had been a top level S.S. officer in the Third Reich, who was responsible for the transport of millions of Jews to death camps.  He had been renditioned by the Israeli Secret Service from Argentina and brought back to Israel to face trial for war crimes.  Hannah Arendt, a Jew who was briefly held in a Nazi detention camp in France before escaping with her family to New York, volunteered to cover the Eichmann trial for the New Yorker, and the New Yorker accepted her offer.

She did more than cover the trial.  Hannah Arendt was a trained philosopher who studied with Martin Heidegger and Karl Jaspers.  She had published several major philosophical works before covering the Eichmann trial including The Origins of Totalitarianism (1951) and The Human Condition (1958).  She brought her philosophical acumen and formidable erudition to bear on her reporting of this trial.  It was entirely fitting and appropriate.  We have to congratulate the New Yorker for choosing her to report on this trial.  No one could have covered it like she did, and no one could have raised the issues implied in this trial with such clarity and force and intellectual depth as she brought to them.  The outcome was six long articles that appeared in the New Yorker in 1963 followed by a book, Eichmann in Jerusalem:  A Report on the Banality of Evil (1963), which is still in print.

I read the opening article from the February 16, 1963 issue of the New Yorker.  From the outset, Arendt not only reports on the trial vis-a-vis Eichmann, but she analyzes the trial and sets it in its political and historical context, which she has the knowledge and capability to do.  Her understanding of Jewish history and culture and the contemporary political context is especially rich.  It would be hard to imagine someone doing a comparable job in terms of quality and depth of understanding.  She seems uniquely qualified for this assignment and the New Yorker  did itself and the world a great favor by choosing her for this task and providing her with a venue to put her singular perspective before the public.

Arendt saw the trial as not being about Eichmann and what he did during the Third Reich, as much as it was about a political agenda of Israeli Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion.

this case was built on what the Jews had suffered, not on what Eichmann had done. (New Yorker, Feb. 16, 1963, p. 41)

It was history that, as far as the prosecution was concerned, stood at the center of the trial.  “It is not an individual that is in the dock at this historic trial, and not the Nazi regime alone,” Ben-Gurion said, “but anti-Semitism throughout history.” (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 54)

The logic of the Eichmann trial, as Ben Gurion conceived of it — a trial stressing general issues, to the detriment of legal niceties — would have demanded exposure of the complicity of all German bureaus and authorities in the so-called Final Solution of the Jewish question; of all civil servants in the state ministries; of the regular armed forces, with their General Staff; of the judiciary; and of the business world.  . . . the prosecution . . . carefully avoided touching on this highly explosive matter — upon the almost ubiquitous complicity, stretching far beyond the ranks of Party membership. (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 52)

So from the outset Arendt sees the trial as going far beyond Eichmann.  And indeed, as the trial goes on Eichmann’s significance diminishes in relation to this broad  historical drama.

Despite all the efforts of the prosecution, everybody could see that this man was not a ‘monster,’ but it was difficult indeed not to suspect that he was a clown.  (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 113)

Half a dozen psychiatrists examined Eichmann and found that “his whole psychological outlook, including his relationship with his wife and children, his mother and father, his brothers and sisters and friends, was “not only normal but most desirable.” (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 67)

Eichmann, the Nazi S.S. officer who presided over the transport of millions of people to their deaths, was a perfectly good guy.

He went to considerable lengths to prove that he had never harbored any ill feelings toward his victims, and, what is more, had never made any secret of that fact. (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 76)

Arendt goes on to explain that he had a Jewish mistress during his service in the S.S., a rarity among S.S. officers.

His enlistment in the S.S. was not motivated by ideological fervor or even political conviction.  He said, “it was like being swallowed up by the Party against all expectations and without previous decision.  It happened so quickly and suddenly.”  He had no time and less desire to be properly informed; and he did not even know the Party program, and he had not read (as he never did read) Mein Kampf.  Kaltenbrenner had said to him, Why not join the S.S.? and he had replied, Why not?  That was how it happened, and that was about all there was to it. (New Yorker, Feb. 16, 1963, p. 80)

What disturbed people about Arendt’s take on the Eichmann case is that Arendt saw that the face of Evil is not a monster, not demonic, not a raging lunatic, but a mediocre bureaucrat, an ordinary man, with a wife and a healthy family, who would never have done what he did had he not been caught up in large historical currents which he did not create and had very little personal interest in.  Somehow it didn’t sit well with people that such an inconsequential person could be responsible for the deaths of millions of people, whom he did not hate, and actually did not seem to have any strong feelings about.  He was just doing his job to the best of his ability and trying to survive and get by.  He understood what he was doing, to be sure.  He didn’t pretend to be ignorant of what was going on.  But he said he would have shot his own father if the Führer had ordered him to do so.  For Eichmann the overarching value in his life and his outlook was to follow the program, to do what he was told, and to execute his assigned tasks faithfully and effectively.  And that is exactly what he did.  He was the quintessential bureaucrat.

Arendt argued that making Eichmann the public face of the Holocaust was a historical and cultural cop out.  It was an evasion.  It is not that Eichmann was not responsible and should not be held accountable.  Arendt agreed with his sentence and was glad to see him hanged, but she also saw that Eichmann was being given too much credit.  He was being made into a false symbol: a personification of something that was much bigger and deeper than any one person could represent or be responsible for.  I think her assessment of the trial and of Eichmann is absolutely correct.  The film does a very good job of presenting the philosophical issues as well as the personalities involved.  It is an excellent achievement, although heavy to watch.

What interested me about this film and about the Eichmann case was its relevance to contemporary events in the United States.  If you think about the contrast between Adolf Eichmann and Edward Snowden or Bradley Manning, you notice something significant.  Snowden and Manning are both rather inconsequential individuals, of unimpressive backgrounds and credentials, very much like Eichmann, who found themselves cogs in a huge bureaucratic machine that they realized was monstrous.  But what distinguishes them from Eichmann is that they were not content to just continue in their jobs, carrying out their assigned tasks, oblivious to the dire consequences that they knew would ensue from their work.  They threw a monkey wrench into the machine, at great cost to themselves, rather than let the Beast continue on its ruinous rampage.

In 1934 Eichmann applied for work in the Security Service of the S.S (the S.D.).  The S.D. had been founded by Himmler to serve as an intelligence service to the Nazi party.

Its initial task had been to spy on party members — an activity giving the S.S. an ascendancy over the regular party apparatus.  Then it had taken on some additional duties, becoming the information and research center for the Geheime Staatspolizei (Secret State Police, or Gestapo).  This was the first step toward the merger of the S.S. and the police, which was not carried out until September of 1939 . . . (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 86)

A similar evolution is in progress in the United States, where the intelligence services are being inexorably merged with state and local police departments.  It is an important point to emphasize that in a totalitarian state the intelligence services, protected by the utmost secrecy, and charged with spying on citizens — and indeed, everyone — ultimately become merged with policing functions, so that what results is one monolithic oppressive force within society, intimidating and brutalizing with impunity anyone deemed a threat or subversive.  Edward Snowden has exposed the mountains of data being gathered by our own intelligence services on every American citizen, and indeed, nearly every citizen throughout the world.  The security services claim that they need all this information about who we talk to and associate with in order to protect us — and many people among the citizenry buy this line, or are at least indifferent to it.  But it is only a matter of time before those massive amounts of data will be turned with a most heavy hand and without the possibility of challenge or recourse against the people who now comfort themselves with the thought that this is all benign and innocent.

Eichmann . . . seems to have known nothing even of the nature of the S.D. when he entered it — which was not really strange, since operations of the S.D. were always top secret.  According to what he told Captain Less, he joined the S.D. under a misapprehension . . . (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 86)

Edward Snowden, and many others like him, had no idea of the nature of the work he would be doing for the NSA.  But, unlike Eichmann, he became increasingly shocked and appalled at the nature of the work he was expected to carry out.  In response to Snowden’s revelations, the NSA has vowed to tighten their selection process so that only the Adolf Eichmann’s of the world can work for the intelligence services.

The totalitarian state needs the Adolf Eichmanns of the world.  It despises the Bradley Mannings and Edward Snowdens.  Every conceivable vilification and depredation is being heaped upon them.  At all costs they must be discredited and punished mercilessly.  A totalitarian state, or a state that has pretentions of becoming one, like the United States, cannot allow people like Edward Snowden and Bradley Manning to become heroes.

But it is important to point out:  the difference between Adolf Eichmann, and Edward Snowden and Bradley Manning, is one of values.  Eichmann valued only following orders and being a good soldier, whereas Snowden and Manning had a vision for society that went beyond themselves.  They were capable of evaluating what they were doing and passing judgment on their own professional conduct, because their vision of themselves and their relation to society went beyond simply doing their jobs, understood as carrying out their assigned tasks as they came down from on high.   They actually cared about how people would live in the kind of society being fashioned by the work they were charged with carrying out.  Eichmann did not.  He had no vision of society beyond himself and his immediate circle.  It is very important to understand where these values held by Snowden and Manning come from, and how they become instilled in children.  It is important because it is the best hope of preserving America as a society where individual freedoms and basic civil rights for average citizens are protected and institutionalized in both law and culture, just as it is important for totalitarian states that want to crush such people and snuff out those values in order to enslave everyone.  The Edward Snowdens and Bradley Mannings of the world are an obstacle to totalitarianism.  Eichmann, the quintessential bureaucrat, is the totalitarian hero and ideal.

The longer one listened to him, the more obvious it became that his inability to speak was closely connected with an inability to think; that is to think from the standpoint of somebody else.  No communication with him was possible, not because he lied, but because he was surrounded with the most reliable of all safeguards against the words of others, or even the presence of others, and hence against reality as such.  (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 106)

This film and its theme, the banality of evil, is highly relevant to our own time as   America moves increasingly toward a totalitarian police state.  This can be seen in the erosion and often complete disregard of the Constitution and its protections of citizens rights against the prerogatives of government.  The current President, who is supposedly an expert on the Constitution, has shown more disrespect for the Constitution than any President in recent times.  The indifference of average citizens in allowing this to happen, the narcissism of simply focusing on one’s own job, one’s own living, one’s own problems, one’s own success and promotion, without regard to one’s connection to the whole; the failure to perceive that the quality of life within the whole society matters to one’s fate as an individual; this lack of perception, this narcissism of unrelatedness is the greatest danger to America as a free society.  The biggest threat to the United States is not terrorists blowing up buildings.  This is what the Security State wants people to believe, and this phantom is promoted relentlessly in the media that constant threats of this type are afoot.   But actually, it is the indifference of average citizens to the ever growing presence of the Security State and the erosion of basic liberties for others as well as oneself that is the much more profound threat.  There is an obliviousness that allows one to think that the government can trample the rights of others, disregard the Constitution, violate civil rights, even commit heinous crimes against people portrayed as “enemies of the State,” and somehow that will never come home to me.  What affects others does not affect me.  That’s their problem, not mine.  This attitude on the part of the average citizen is the most ominous threat to America as a free society.  It is the Eichmannization of the citizenry that is our most profound enemy.

Eighty million Germans had been shielded against reality and factuality by the same self-deception, lies, and stupidity that had now become ingrained in Eichmann’s nature.  These lies changed from year to year, and they frequently contradicted each other; moreover, they were not necessarily the same for the various branches of the Party hierarchy or the people at large.  But the practice of self-deception had become so widespread — almost a moral prerequisite for survival — that even now, eighteen years after the collapse of the Nazi regime, when most of the specific content of its lies has been forgotten, it is sometimes difficult not to believe that mendacity has become an integral part of the German national character.  (New Yorker, February 16, 1963, p. 111)

This could describe current conditions in the political and cultural climate of the United States.  There are so many lies being promoted by the government and the “information” media to the public with such a heavy handed insistence, being repeated so often and with such uncritical aplomb that they have almost become clichés.  People who point out the lies, the contradictions, the inconsistencies, the delusions, and question their sources are labeled ‘crackpots,’ or ‘conspiracy theorists.’

How many lies have the American people been told and accepted as fact going back many years to Vietnam, Iran-Contra, Iraq, Afghanistan, 9/11, the War on Drugs, the War on Terror, climate change, among many other issues?  We seem to eagerly embrace hysteria and sensationalism, particularly when it provides opportunities to vent boundless spite and venom upon some demonized enemy.  Israel was probably hoping for such an opportunity in the trial of Adolf Eichmann, but it did not work out so well, because Eichmann turned out not to be a demon with fangs and horns, but a rather mediocre, almost innocuous, person.  Had he been in a different position with different responsibilities, no one would ever have heard of him.  It was almost bad luck, rather than malice, that resulted in his presiding over the extermination of millions of Jews.

Living in America you know that most of the population is deluded about many issues of vital public importance.  And yet, they are content to remain in that condition of numb indifference focusing mostly on themselves and their immediate circle, and when they do cast their eyes beyond that short field of vision, they see only bewildering, amorphous threats, and thus defer to the authorities to take care of it.

David Rousset (French inmate of Buchenwald) They [the S.S.] know that the system which succeeds in destroying its victim before he mounts the scaffold . . . is incomparably the best for keeping a whole people in slavery.  (quoted on p. 42, New Yorker, February 16, 1963)

This is understood by the United States government, and particularly by the Security Services.  This is why it is so important to destroy the Edward Snowdens and the Bradley Mannings, and to prevent such people from coming into existence.  Controlling the available information, controlling access to resources and information, controlling the attention and preoccupations of the public, while at the same time keeping one’s own actions secret and invisible, is key to maintaining and growing the Security State.  This is why it is necessary to keep track of everyone’s conversations, who talks to who, and what people look at and read on the internet.  It is the preliminary step to controlling and limiting who one can talk to and what information one may see and be exposed to.

The trial of Adolf Eichmann and the penetrating analysis of it by Hannah Arendt illustrates the perverse extremes to which a Security State can go, and those extremes are made possible and realized by the inconsequential, unthinking, unreflecting bureaucrat, obsessed with his own personal security and indifference to the consequences of his own actions beyond the fulfillment of his given duty.  Adolf Eichmann lives today, and is, in fact, very much in demand by the intelligence services of the United States government.  The Israelis were right to hang him.  But they thought they were hanging Anti-Semitism.  That would have been the simple, scripted outcome that the Israeli government was hoping for.  In actuality, Eichmann wasn’t even an Anti-Semite.  Instead, the trial revealed a much more profound truth: that the excesses and atrocities of totalitarian states are not fundamentally a manifestation of collective hatred, but rather a reflection of collective numbing of sensibility that brings on collective complicity and collective willful blindness.  The greatest Evil is turns out not to be a crazed terrorist throwing bombs and spitting venom.  The greatest Evil is a mundane, banal, average bureaucrat, going about his job, doing what he is told, even when he knows he is participating in madness.

This film, directed by Margarethe von Trotta is an excellent introduction to these issues and the personality and life of Hannah Arendt.  It directly bears on some of the most pressing trends in the political culture of the United States, and is illustrative of the human foundations of every totalitarian state.  I highly recommend it.

The Strange Case of Wilhelm Reich — Film Review

By Michael Ferguson

The Strange Case of Wilhelm Reich


Directed by Antonin Svoboda

 

There are many things about Wilhelm Reich that never made sense to me.  I was hoping this film would clarify some of them, but it did not.  In fact, seeing this fictional depiction of him made me even more puzzled.  I have read many of Reich’s psychoanalytic writings and always judged him to be the smartest and best of the younger generation of psychoanalysts that succeeded Freud.  Reich understood the social implications of psychoanalysis and he understood the limitations of therapy focused individuals and the particular symptoms they present.  He saw the “neurotic” symptom as a manifestation of a structural problem that has to be understood in the context of one’s general character.  The symptom never occurs in isolation, but always in the context of one’s personality and familial constellation.  Similarly, the problems of individuals, although always specific and unique to particular circumstances, occur at the same time within a wider social context that provides the soil and the nurturing for similar kinds of difficulties that arise in the lives of many individuals living under those same cultural circumstances.  It is therefore necessary to understand and to address mental illness not only on the level of the individual, but also as a manifestation of cultural and social malaise.  This was one source of friction between Reich and the political and institutional establishment.

But there were others.  I am not as familiar with his later work on what he called “orgone energy.”  I was hoping  that the film would shed some light on this since this was what led to his wrangling with the U.S. government, the FDA, the American Psychiatric Association, and the Justice Department.  However, this film is not an in depth presentation of ideas.  It is a dramatization, not a documentary.   There is nothing inherently wrong with this approach, but the outcome differs considerably from my expectations and hopes. 

If we take the film on its own terms, and evaluate how well it accomplishes the tasks it sets for itself, I would only give this a grudging C minus.  It is nice to see someone lifting Wilhelm Reich once again into public view, but what you get here is a kindly, benign, grandfatherly figure who seems harmlessly eccentric, yet for some reason is relentlessly and severely pursued by the FBI and the FDA — quite unjustly as it appears.  But it doesn’t make sense.  If Reich were crazy, if his ideas were loony, if he were simply on some bizarre, fruitless quest destined to go nowhere, why would the FBI and the FDA spend so much time and energy trying to thwart him, stop him, silence him, and eventually put him in jail?  Reich was a much more rough edged person that what is portrayed in this film.  Reich was combative, driven, stubborn, nonconforming, egotistical, and paranoid (perhaps with good reason).  And his ideas were subversive.  However, one does not get that from this film.  I would like to see a little more clearly who was out to get him and why. 

Reich had considerable difficulty in his personal life.  The film shows some hints of ambivalence in his relationship with his daughter, Eva, but we don’t get any insight into this, no deep exploration that might reveal character or psychic conflict.  There is nothing about his background in Vienna, nothing about growing up, his parents, his first wife, Freud makes only a cameo appearance, and we do not see his influence on Reich nor the reasons they parted ways.  It is very shallow biographically.  It is hard to understand the point of this film.  Are they just trying to portray Reich as the hapless victim of a mindless vendetta by the U.S. government?    Is that all there was to it?  The film is completely vacuous on this score. 

The film brings up Reich’s disappointing relationship with Albert Einstein, but it leaves open whether Einstein himself considered Reich to be a quack or if Einstein’s aides blocked Reich’s access to Einstein and prevented their collaboration.  This is another point where, in my view, the dramatization does not offer enough substance to do the issue justice.   A more straightforward, documentary approach would have been more satisfying, here, and in many other issues raised by the film.  

To get started on understanding Reich, you have to understand his ideas on psychoanalysis and particularly his differences with Freud and the intellectual debt he owed to Freud.  In Reich Speaks of Freud, Kurt Eissler conducted a lengthy interview with Reich about Freud and related topics that is fascinating for its illumination of the personal relationship between Reich and Freud and the intellectual differences that led to their parting.  You can get a much better feel for who Reich was as a person and the direction of his ideas from this volume than you can from this film.  But this lengthy interview leaves much unexplored and unexplained, and that was where I was hoping the film would pick up and expand.  But, alas, it did not.  The film creates an impression of Reich that differs markedly from the Reich we see in this 1952 interview.  The Reich in the film is a tame version, a soft soap version of the Reich in the interview.  It is clearly a fictionalization and one that tends to obscure and distort rather than enhance ones understanding of the subject.  I came away very disappointed in this film.  There is a lot more I would like to know about Wilhelm Reich.  I hope someday someone will put together a film that will treat him with the depth and insight that he deserves. 

Seen at the Jewish Film Festival, Castro Theater, San Francisco, July 30, 2013.  

 

 

Higgins, Mary; and Raphael, Chester M.;  Eds. (1967)  Reich Speaks of Freud.  New York:  Farrar, Straus, and Giroux.

The Haunted Valley by Ambrose Bierce — Commentary

By Michael Ferguson

The Haunted Valley

Short Story by Ambrose Bierce, Commentary

 

 

“The Haunted Valley” was Ambrose Bierce’s first published story.  It appeared in 1871 in the Overland Magazine.  It deals with gender ambiguity, same sex relationships, racial bigotry, and murder in the American West.  The story is divided into two parts.  In the first part, the narrator is traveling through a remote area, presumably in California, although it doesn’t say so specifically, where he encounters Jo. Dunfer, a rancher whose most salient personal qualities seem to be his bigotry against Chinese people and his penchant for whiskey.  Dunfer launches into a narrative about taking on a Chinese man, Ah Wee, as a cook and servant five years previous.  Ah Wee and a man named Gopher assist Dunfer in felling trees for a cabin he had wished to build on a remote part of the ranch.  Ah Wee is incompetent at felling trees and Jo Dunfer admits to killing him for this and other faults.  The narrative is disrupted at this point by a dramatic scream and Jo. Dunfer’s collapse.  Jo. Dunfer’s assistant [Gopher, although he is not named at this point] enters and the narrator briefly encounters him.  This incident is not explained in any great detail and the narrator leaves it in this ambiguous state.  He departs Jo. Dunfer’s residence in a disturbed state of mind and on his journey chances to come upon the grave of Ah Wee with this curious inscription.

AH WEE — CHINAMAN

Age unknown.  Worked for Jo. Dunfer.

This monument is erected by him to keep the Chink’s

memory green.  Likewise as a warning to Celestials

not to take on airs.  Devil take ’em!

She Was a Good Egg.

The choice of pronouns is an operative point.

The second part of the narrative takes place four years later when the protagonist returns to the same area.  This time he encounters Gopher, the other (white) assistant to Jo. Dunfer.  The narrator inquires about Jo. Dunfer and is informed that he is dead and in the grave beside Ah Wee.  Gopher accompanies the narrator to the grave and tells him that indeed Jo. Dunfer had killed Ah Wee, but not out of frustration with his abilities as a house servant, but out of jealousy over Ah Wee’s relationship with himself, Gopher.  One day Jo. Dunfer had caught Gopher and Ah Wee together and killed Ah Wee with an ax in a jealous rampage.  Dunfer buried Ah Wee in the grave and created the curious memorial marker.

Now comes the crucial turn on the very last page of the story which I will quote.

“When did Jo die?” I asked rather absently.  The answer took my breath:

“Pretty soon after I looked at him through that knot-hole, w’en you had put something in his w’isky, you derned Borgia!”  [referring to the narrator’s previous visit, four years prior]

Recovering somewhat from my surprise at this astounding charge, I was half-minded to throttle the audacious accuser, but was restrained by a sudden conviction that came to me in the light of a revelation.  I fixed a grave look upon him and asked, as calmly as I could:  “And when did you go luny?”

“Nine years ago!” he shrieked, throwing out his clenched hands — “nine years ago, w’en that big brute killed the woman who loved him better than she did me! — me who had followed ‘er from San Francisco, where ‘e won ‘er at draw poker! — me who had watched over ‘er for years w’en the scoundrel she belonged to was ashamed to acknowledge ‘er and treat ‘er white — me who for her sake kept ‘is cussed secret till it ate ‘im up! — me who w’en you poisoned the beast fulfilled ‘is last request to lay ‘im alongside ‘er and give ‘im a stone to the head of ‘im!  And I’ve never since seen ‘er grave till now, for I didn’t want to meet ‘im here.” (Bierce, p. 126)

I found three different commentaries on this story and I believe all three misunderstand it.  Bierce is admittedly not striving for clarity, but the story is clear if one is attuned to the possibilities of cross-gender identifications and same sex relationships.

Peter Boag (2012) in his study of cross-dressing in the American West states that “Ah’s sex is never entirely clear; feminine and masculine pronouns interchange readily right up to the story’s conclusion. . . Thus Ah Wee may have been a Chinese woman dressed as a man, or a (typically) feminized Chinese man” (p. 192)

William Wu (1982) read the story as Ah Wee being a girl whom Dunfer had won in a poker game.  Wu notes that the reader is misled through the whole story to think that Ah Wee is a man, but fails account for this misleading or to perceive the significance of the pronoun changes in the story.  Wu is focused on the racism in the story and thus misses the sexual implications that are really the crux of it, resulting in a misunderstanding of the murder and the sex triangle.  (Wu, 1982, p. 22)

Hellen Lee-Keller (2006) also tries to normalize the story in the same way as Wu.

As the tombstone indicated, Ah Wee was not, in fact, a he, but rather a she, and Dunfer killed Ah Wee in a fit of jealous rage thinking that Ah Wee and Gopher were involved in a sexual relationship.  Ultimately, Dunfer, who had fallen in love with Ah Wee over the years, fell into despair when he realized what he had done, started drinking heavily again, and grew even more anti-Chinese.

Lee-Keller follows Wu in seeing Ah Wee as female all the way through, but she doesn’t address Dunfer’s referring to Ah Wee as ‘he’ throughout, and seems to call into question that there was a sexual relationship between Gopher and Ah Wee.  In other words, she suggests that Dunfer killed Ah Wee out of misunderstanding and self-delusion.

The straightforward assumption that Ah Wee’s is a girl, won in a poker game, and subsequently killed in a sex triangle, does not make sense of the text, the shifting pronouns, and particularly the contrast between Dunfer’s and Gopher’s constructions of Ah Wee.  If you follow the shifting pronouns, there is a logic to their modulations.  They do not “interchange readily right up to the story’s conclusion,” as Boag reports.  Ah Wee is portrayed as a man by Jo. Dunfer through the whole story up until the very end of his narrative, with the exception of the curious epitaph on the tombstone.  Dunfer always referred to Ah Wee as ‘he.’  If Ah Wee were a girl, won in a poker game, why would there be any need for Jo. Dunfer to disguise her as a man, or for Ah Wee to adopt the identity of a man?  If that were the case, then it would mean that Jo. Dunfer imposed the male identity upon her out of his own psychological need for a male sexual partner.  But if that were true, why would he even take a girl home to his ranch, if what he really wanted was a boy all along?  The idea that Ah Wee was a girl straight up is untenable.  It fails to make sense of Jo. Dunfer’s referring to Ah Wee as ‘he’ throughout, and Gopher’s pronoun shift when he begins to talk about his own relationship with Ah Wee.  If you think Ah Wee was “really a she” as Lee-Keller thinks, then you have to explain why the whole story leads you to assume Ah Wee is male.   I don’t see any way to do that.  The story will simply not make sense if Ah Wee were really a female all the way through from the outset.

Alternatively, if Ah Wee were a female-to-male cross dresser, as one possibility suggested by Boag, it would mean she was presenting as a male throughout the story.  A full grown adult male would make an unlikely prize in a poker game and this raises a question mark over the whole tale about Ah Wee being a prize in a poker game.   This is Gopher’s version probably concocted to mask the fact that Ah Wee left him for Jo. Dunfer.   The poker game story is Gopher’s attempt at face saving.  Ah Wee was very likely Gopher’s lover before leaving him for Jo. Dunfer and moving to his ranch in rural California.  But was he/she male or female?

If she were a cross-dressed female-to-male, a la Alan Hart (see Boag, pp. 9-14), then you would have a female who gender identified as male becoming involved in “homosexual” relationships with two different males.  A rather convoluted  maneuver for a female to make.  This is not a realistic scenario.  I was not able to find any instance of a female who gender identified as male, who then went on to form sexual relationships with other men in her cross gender identity.  Somebody out there come forward if you have a counterexample.  There is no plausible interpretation of this story where Ah Wee is a natural female.

Gopher says that “the scoundrel she belonged to refused to acknowledge her and treat her white.”  This refusal to acknowledge her I think refers to Jo. Dunfer’s denoting Ah Wee as ‘he,’ that is, refusing to acknowledge his/her full identification as a female.  In other words, Jo. Dunfer insisted on Ah Wee’s biological gender as the proper identifier rather than accepting her psychological identification as a female.  This seemed improper and disrespectful to Gopher, and he attributed it to Dunfer’s shame and denial of his own relationship with Ah Wee, and consistent with his further maltreatment of her.  Gopher referred to Ah Wee as ‘she,’ when he was relating his own relationship to her, fully acknowledging Ah Wee’s psychological make-up.  This makes sense of the pronoun changes in the story and is consistent with the details in the narration.

The most likely scenario is that Ah Wee was a male-to-female cross-dresser, probably fully gender identified as female in the mode of Mrs. Nash recounted in Boag’s Re-dressing, Chapter 4.

Mrs. Nash was a Mexican male-to-female cross-dresser who successfully passed herself off as a woman among the U.S. Seventh Calvary in the 1870s and 80s for at least a ten year period during which she was married to three different soldiers in the Seventh.  Although it was widely known that she had a beard and shaved every day, she dressed and lived as a female, winning high praise as well as financial rewards for her skills in laundering, sewing, cooking, delivering babies, caring for infants, and witchcraft.  When she died of appendicitis it was discovered that “she had balls as big as a bull’s.  She’s a man!” (Boag, pp. 130-137)  The story became a national sensation.

I believe Ah Wee was a comparable figure to Mrs. Nash, a biological male who dressed and psychologically identified as a female.   Both Gopher and Dunfer knew Ah Wee’s “real” gender.  However, Jo. Dunfer did not recognize Ah Wee’s cross-gender identification, referring to him/her always as ‘he,’ whereas Gopher, loving Ah Wee in her cross-dressed identity, referred to her as ‘she,’ when he began talking about his own feelings for her.

The story told by Gopher of Ah Wee’s having been won in a poker game and his following her to Dunfer’s ranch suggests that the original attachment was between Ah Wee and Gopher.  Gopher was involved with Ah Wee as a cross-dresssed male-to-female.  Jo. Dunfer came between them by some means or other.   The poker winnings story seems unlikely to me.  If Gopher loved Ah Wee with the dedication that he seems to evince, why would he wager her in a poker game?  More likely is that Ah Wee fled with Dunfer to get away from Gopher.  But Gopher was a persistent, hopelessly attached lover who pursued Ah Wee to Dunfer’s ranch, got himself hired as a ranch hand by Dunfer, and continued his relationship with Ah Wee whenever possible.

Dunfer caught Ah Wee and Gopher together and killed Ah Wee in a jealous rampage.  Gopher suggests that the encounter in which they were caught was actually innocent in that he was reaching into Ah Wee’s clothing to remove a spider.  But this again sounds very self-serving on Gopher’s part.  Dunfer had almost certainly known of Gopher and Ah Wee’s prior relationship and very likely had an inkling that they were continuing on the sly behind his back.  The violent jealous rampage was probably the breaking of a dam of accumulated suspicion and resentment.  Dunfer confessed to killing Ah Wee before the authorities, recounting the version he had given the narrator and the case was judged a justifiable homicide.  He then erected the grave that Bierce describes with the curious epitaph, where he acknowledges, finally, her true (psychological) identity as a female.

In response to the narrator’s question about the time of Dunfer’s death, Gopher levels the accusation that he, the narrator, had been the one to poison Dunfer.  The “revelation” that comes over the narrator at that moment is that Gopher is making a confession.  Indeed it was Gopher who had killed Jo. Dunfer and buried him beside Ah Wee.  How does he know this?  Both he and Gopher know that he, the narrator, did not poison Dunfer.  So why would Gopher make such an accusation?  The accusation that the narrator had been the one to poison Dunfer is Gopher’s thin — or rather outrageous — cover story, and it brings up the suggestion that Jo. Dunfer did not die of natural causes.  Why would Gopher make such an accusation if he knew Jo. Dunfer had died a natural death?  In fact he knew perfectly well that Jo Dunfer did not die a natural death.  The narrator grasped all of this in an instant hearkening back to the moment in Jo. Dunfer’s house when he

saw that the knot-hole in the wall had indeed become a human eye — a full, black eye, that glared into my own with an entire lack of expression more awful than the most devilish glitter.  I think I must have covered my face with my hands to shut out the horrible illusion, if such it was, and Jo.’s little white man-of-all-work [Gopher] coming into the room broke the spell, and I walked out of the house with a sort of dazed fear that delirium tremens might be infectious.  (Bierce, p. 120)

The narrator’s visit to Dunfer’s ranch gave Gopher the opportunity he had probably been seeking for some time.  Gopher could claim that the narrator had poisoned Dunfer and thus cover his tracks as the murderer.  Gopher had plenty of motivation.  Gopher had loved Ah Wee, but Ah Wee preferred Dunfer to him — at least that is the way it seemed to Gopher.  Dunfer had taken Ah Wee away from Gopher — allegedly in a poker game, but most likely by other means. I think it probable that Ah Wee left with Dunfer willingly to escape Gopher’s clinging attachment.  Dunfer treated Ah Wee badly, according to Gopher — this is plausible — and eventually killed her in a jealous fit for continuing her relationship with Gopher.  It was Gopher who buried Dunfer beside Ah Wee.  It all fits.  Ah Wee is consistent with the type of male-to-female cross-dresser described earlier in the case of Mrs. Nash and the Seventh U.S. Calvary.  Jo. Dunfer’s referring to Ah Wee as male but then changing the pronoun on the tombstone:  “She was a Good Egg”  indicates that he had no illusions that Ah Wee had a dual gender identity.

I think Bierce understood what he was doing, and realized some people would be confused by the story.  He probably wanted it that way.  I suspect the story is based somehow on real events and that it is not simply a product of Bierce’s fantasy.  It was his first published story, and I think it is significant that he would choose this topic as the subject of his first public effort.

The story was written around 1870, shortly after the Civil War.  The frontier was still very much an unsettled place of adventure and opportunity.  It was rapidly changing, however, as were prevailing attitudes toward the many variants of sexual expression.  America was becoming more anxious even as it grew stronger, men were becoming less confident in themselves and in their place in the emerging industrial society, and people were becoming conscious and questioning of the sexual behavior of individuals.  These strains and anxieties are reflected in the intense racism in the story.  However, the racial bigotry, which is quite blatant, does not extend to the cross-dresser.  The cross-dresser is a curious anomaly, but is not yet pathologized per se.  Sexual and gender deviance are being associated with race, and it would not be long before the reflexive racial bigotry that was taken for granted and widely accepted would be extended to sexual minorities of every sort.  This story represents a transition stage between a time when sexuality was less of a public preoccupation to one where it became central to one’s position and acceptability in society.

The three published commentaries on this story that I was able to locate gloss over or miss the full import of the pronoun changes which are the heart of this sordid story of sex and murder.  The tendency is to normalize the story, to heterosexualize it first of all, and to completely ignore, or fail to perceive, the cross-gender identification that is central to the whole drama.  But Ah Wee’s male-to-female cross-gender identification is the only way to make full sense of the text.  If you pay attention to it, the text is clear.  It might have been clearer to Bierce’s audience in the late nineteenth century than it is to us.  Cross-dressing and cross-gender identifications were much less obtrusive and much more amenable to integration in society than they are today, as Boag’s excellent examination of the subject points out.  The bigotry against the male-to-female cross-dresser, was not as pervasive or even as widespread in the nineteenth century as it is today.  Racial bigotry was certainly intense and taken for granted.  This story illustrates how the country had not yet solidified what would later become rigid stereotypes and expectations for masculinity and male sexual behavior, but present day commentators tend to project back onto the story our own present-day biases and preconceptions which were still forming at the time the story was composed and were far from the fully entrenched cultural norms they later became.  This historical blindness not only simplifies the story and robs it of its psychological complexity, it also neutralizes the lessons it has to teach us in how our own culture has evolved in its notions of masculinity and proper male sexual behavior.

 

 

Notes

 

 

Bierce, Ambrose (1984)  The Complete Short Stories of Ambrose Bierce.  Edited by Ernest Hopkins.  Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press.

Boag, Peter (2011) Re-Dressing America’s Frontier Past. Berkeley, Los Angeles, London:  University of California Press.

Lee-Keller, Hellen (2006)  Ambrose Bierce Project Journal, Vol 2, No. 1.  http://www.ambrosebierce.org/journal2lee-keller.html

Wu, William F. (1982)  The Yellow Peril:  Chinese Americans in American Fiction 1850-1940.  Hamden, CT:  Archon Books.

The Gospel of Mary Magdalene — San Francisco Opera Performance Review

By Michael Ferguson

The Gospel of Mary Magdalene

San Francisco Opera Performance

June 22, 2013

 

 

There are 13 mentions of Mary Magdalene by name in the canonical gospels.  I will list them here without quoting them. 

 Mark 15:40

Mark 15:47

Mark 16:1

Mark 16:9

Luke 8:2

Luke 24:10

Matthew 27:56

Matthew 27:61

Matthew 28:1

John 19:25

John 20:1, 2

John 20:11

John 20: 16

The woman in Luke 7:36-50 who washes and kisses his feet is sometimes assumed to be Mary Magdalene, but I don’t count this because she is not named in the passage.    

There is no other mention of Mary Magdalene in the New Testament and of these few references all but one of them is related to the stories Jesus’ death and resurrection.  Luke is the only gospel that mentions Mary Magdalene outside the context of the final events of his life.  About a third of the gospel accounts are taken up with the dramatic last week of Jesus’ life.  They are not particularly interested in recounting the details of his life or who he was as a person.  So it is curious that Mary Magdalene would appear to play such an important role in this crucial part of his life, which the gospels are supremely interested in, yet otherwise the gospel writers seem at pains to minimize her importance and even discredit her.  I can only conclude that Mary Magdalene must have played such an important role during the week of Jesus’ death and the immediate aftermath, and this was so well known among the early Christian groups that the gospel writers could not ignore or omit her, however much they would have liked to.  That immediately leads to the question of what role she might have played in Jesus’ life apart from the week of his death.  The gospels have almost nothing to say about this.  Luke mentions that Jesus cast seven devils out of her and that she was part of a group of women who supported Jesus and his (male) followers “with their own means.”  (Luke 8:3)  This must be the source of the opera’s portrayal of Mary Magdalene as a woman of some significant means.  I found this a rather incredible stretch and I do not think that Mary Magdalene was in any way or shape affluent.  

In the gospel accounts Mary Magdalene was the first one to discover the empty tomb and to “see” the resurrected Jesus.  The opera is ambivalent about the resurrection, but seems to come down on the side of skepticism.  As Mary is hunched over the body of Jesus he rises up from below the stage behind her as a kind of apparition.  They carry on a conversation wherein he exhorts her to go out and tell others what he has imparted to her, but she never faces him or interacts with him as in the gospel accounts.  He then disappears beneath the stage leaving Mary alone with the dead body of Jesus.  J. D. Crossan comments

The women’s discovery of the empty tomb was created by Mark to avoid a risen-apparition to the disciples, and the women’s vision of the risen Jesus was created by Matthew to prepare for a risen apparition to the disciples.  There is no evidence of historical tradition about those two details prior to Mark in the 70s.  Furthermore, the women, rather than being there early and being steadily removed, are not there early but are steadily included.  They are included, of course, to receive only message-visions, never mandate-visions.   They are told to go tell the disciples, while the disciples are told to go teach the nations.  (Crossan, p. 561)

The Gospel of Mary is a text from the second century, composed at least a hundred years after the relevant events.  It is fragmentary and there are only two manuscripts in existence, one, a Greek text from the second century, and a Coptic text from the fifth century ( Ehrman, p. 35)  This text indicates that some early Christian groups held Mary Magdalene in much higher regard than the writers of the canonical gospels did.  It also indicates some rivalry between the followers of Peter and those who held Mary in higher esteem.  This rivalry probably had to do with the basic direction and message of the movement.  I am skeptical of the opera’s depiction of this as a personal rivalry between Peter and Mary for the attention of Jesus and of clashes between Jesus and Peter over the basic direction and objectives of the movement.  I am equally skeptical of Peter’s opposition of Jesus marriage to Mary Magdalene, never mind the very idea of the marriage itself.

This opera is a fanciful rewrite of the gospel stories and message.  It takes considerable liberties with the traditional texts, and even with the Gnostic texts that it loosely draws upon.   I see it as an attempt by a disgruntled Roman Catholic to recast the basic message of Christianity into something a little more palatable for a modern audience.  If you are a lapsed Catholic, or a nominal Catholic, or a disgruntled, alienated Catholic, but unwilling to break entirely with the Church and your past, you might see something sympathetic in this.

I didn’t care for it and found it frankly rather dull.  I debated with myself about leaving at intermission, but I sat there so long thinking about it that I ended up staying for the whole performance.  The reason that it is dull is that there is not much action.  The characters share agonized ventilation of their inner lives and their relationships in a soap-operatic style, but nothing much happens.  There is no drama.  You have to be interested in these philosophical speeches or the whole thing drops dead.  The set is visually uninteresting.  It looks like a construction site or a rock quarry and it doesn’t change throughout the entire performance.  Usually operas are visually interesting and imaginative if nothing else.  Even if you can’t stand the music, the spectacle is worth the admission price.  But this one has little to offer in the way of visual spectacle, so an important element of audience engagement is removed.  It would have helped if the music was better, but I did not find anything memorable or interesting in the music score, the singing, and especially in the lyrics.  It was preachy, and the messages it was trying to impart I did not find particularly insightful or thought provoking.  Some of it was rather trite, in fact.  If you are Catholic or a traditional Christian, you might take umbrage at some of the departures from the traditional conception of Jesus, his life, and his message.  But this does not bother me at all.   I thought the conception was a little far-fetched in some respects, but the way I look at it, any reconstruction of Jesus, any artistic representation of any aspect of his life, is by definition an interpretation, and thus will be highly personal and idiosyncratic in nature.  This is fine with me.  It is the nature of art and it is what is interesting about art.  I welcome artists’ reinventions of stories, incidents, personalities, and images from the past in new and interesting characterizations.  My distaste for this performance has nothing to do with stodginess or conservatism.  I just didn’t think it came across. 

An opera about Mary Magdalene raises issues for the contemporary church that have a history going back to the beginning of the Christian movement:  the role of women, not only within the church, but relations generally between men and women.   Asceticism was major social and philosophical trend both within early Christianity and in the many Gnostic sects that soon followed and competed with budding Christianity.  Many of these writers despised women and especially warned men against sexual connection to women.  These people became the orthodoxy within Christianity.  But Mary Magdalene remained a thorny challenge to their authority.  If Mary had a special intimacy with Jesus (whether sexual or not), it would set a bad precedent and a bad role model for women and men within a church that exalted a de-sexualized existence, especially for men.  Women would have to be included in the leadership, their views would have to be taken seriously, sexual relations with women would be a legitimate concern and activity.  This was anathema to these early ascetics, as it is to ascetics today.  Necessarily, the role and significance of Mary Magdalene in the life of Jesus would have to be minimized and her authority on the teachings and mission of Jesus would have to be discredited.  And that is exactly what happened.  This opera brings these ancient controversies back to life.  It may resonate with you, if you are struggling with any sort of ascetic proscriptions weighing down your life, making you miserable, and destroying your personal relationships.  But if you have somehow managed to avoid all of that or freed yourself from it, then this opera will likely not have much to offer you, and you’ll find it rather tedious, as I did.  There were plenty of empty seats.  You can probably get tickets quite easily. 

 

Notes

Crossan, J. D. (1998)  The Birth of Christianity.  New York:  Harper Collins.

Ehrman, Bart D.  (2003)  Lost Scriptures:  Books that did not make it into the New Testament.  Oxford and New York:  Oxford University Press.