Irony Is An Instrument

 

There’s a famous song by the Canadian singer-songwriter Alanis Morissette called ‘Ironic’, in which she catalogues several life experiences which define the term. Do we all know what irony means? Here’s a test: In a successful educational workshop, if students are given the lyrics to this song as a language exercise to see if they can identify what is ironic about ‘rain falling on your wedding day’, or ‘a man winning the lottery and dying the next day’ - What do they come up with? 

Irony occurs when there are two different perspectives occurring simultaneously, one of which undercuts the other. Dramatic irony is generated during the performance of a play when we - the audience - know something that a character or characters is/are ignorant of. It can be comic or tragic, depending on the outcome of the way the ignorance operates in the specific world of the story. 

Human relationships are such that irony is often generated by the difference between what people reveal and what they conceal, between what they feel and what they say, between what they admit and what they deny, and between what they believe and the way it differs from the reality they are faced with. 

Expectations we entertain and fuel about a situation create a reality which does not match the actual event when we experience it. That’s ironic too. We look back in the 20/20 vision of hindsight and wonder what we were thinking! 

A funeral eulogy for example, given to praise and commemorate a person’s life after they have departed this life, may be experienced by some of those hearing it said or reading it in the papers as quite different from the person they have known themselves. I am not referring here to hypocritical people, great pretenders or celebrated con artists and confidence tricksters, but to the fact that hardly anyone sees exactly the same qualities in people as others do. 

Depending on our own unique qualities and the dynamics of our relationships with the person, we may be surprised or even frankly disbelieving when we hear someone who we ourselves have a low opinion of, being publicly praised. And conversely shocked if we hear a person we admire or who has a good general reputation being attacked or denigrated on social media. 

Most Sri Lankan people - even in this age of casual villification of others on Facebook and WhatsApp groups - will probably think it uncouth and in bad taste to comment negatively after a person has died. But this is not true of the living, who seem to be fair game, in open season. 

Recently I have seen a flurry of birthday messages being sent to a former acquaintance of mine who is a public figure. I knew her in our brief friendship to be a person of great professional dedication, with some endearing and relatable personal qualities which make her very popular among the social media aficionadi of the country. 

Unfortunately, I did not join in publicly hailing her because we no longer know each other, despite the many things on paper we have in common: a love of food, a love of good literature, and a love of creativity among them. Under normal circumstances, these preferences count so highly with me that anyone who combines all three would be in excellent standing for life. 

And here we come to the contrast between theory and practice, expectation and reality, where irony operates. I write this somewhat sad story with the hope that it will - perhaps - protect others from the personal disappointment I have felt. Like-minded people befriend each other, right? That makes sense. But that is sometimes not reflected in actual events. People say one thing and do the opposite. The social masks they wear and the camouflage these create make it hard to discern their core values and true incompatibilities. 

My friend and I were members of a writing group, whose leaders professed to create an inclusive and encouraging forum in which creative writers could share their work with each other, by reading it out loud: not performed with a microphone at an ‘open mic’ session at a cafe, but in the less public and more intimate circle of an unpretentious and reasonably priced lowbrow coffee house, which (endearingly) served items like toasted Marmite sandwiches on the menu. 

It was important that it was affordable to all, because creative writers are notoriously underpaid. A high end place would have been out of reach for many. The diverse social backgrounds we all came from added to the positive impression the first sessions I attended made on me. 

The sessions occurred regularly once a month, and an email ‘summing up’ of what was discussed was sent to those who could not attend, written with a flourish and a sense of verve by one of the convenors. 

The lady I describe was one of the best writers in the group, in my opinion, and her genuine love for poetry and her supportive and encouraging nature was evident in the way she participated as an active listener of others’ work, as well as the way she contributed her own wry, elliptical pieces. 

Unfortunately, quite early on in the sequence of the year, one of the convenors took a personal dislike to me, as he apparently did to people from time to time, and his dislike started to express itself in anti-elitist diatribes and pointedly provocative political rants, which I felt were out of place in a supposedly inclusive group, which ideally should be apolitical or multi-political in approach rather than slanted and skewed by personal bias. 

Not content to merely make verbal jabs in session, this convenor then started to make thinly veiled personal comments in the public emails as well, commenting on the ‘cocooned existence of the privileged’, among whose despised numbers he classified me. As many people who experience harassment in Sri Lanka will tell you, although at the time I found it surprising and quite inexplicable, being new to the phenomenon, it was absolutely to be expected that no one witnessing this tried to shut him down or challenge or question his unpleasant and apparently compulsive attacking behaviour. Their silence was spineless, compliant and conformist - to not interfere, to not breach the public peace, to not get involved, to not take a stand, to not directly confront what was obviously wrong in the conduct of an authority figure. To evade, to elide, to ignore, to erase. To hope it would all resolve itself with no effort on their part. To not raise their voice, or raise a finger. 

My friend, a peacemaker at heart, and a special favourite of his, offered to speak to him and get him to desist in his self indulgent declamations, which had become a sort of bullying behaviour which must have been (to some) as unpleasant to witness as it was to experience. 

Unfortunately, her initial efforts caused an escalation in his behaviour, and in my frustrated response to it, as one of her attempts to remonstrate with him took place in front of several other members of the group instead of privately. He - as many compulsively provocative artistes pride themselves on doing - reserved the right to exercise his freedom of self expression as one of the few remaining rights a capitalist society afforded him. 

As a result, far more people got to hear his ugly opinions in a public space than would have been given access if she had spoken to him privately at his home - which is what I would have done in her place, to limit the ongoing damage to my friend’s reputation. 

I was surprised that a man of his age and in the position of authority that he held would behave in such a divisive way, so clearly abusive and disrespectful of his responsibilities as a self styled mentor. But I was told by several people that ‘this was just the way he is’, ‘that’s just his way of doing things’ - and to ignore it. He would soon find someone else to target. He always had. 

My well meaning, mediating friend told me (unfortunately somewhat tactlessly, insultingly and repeatedly) not to ‘wallow’ in the negativity of the situation. I found this a very dismissive and belittling thing to say, since what I expressly wanted (in my view) was very simple: for the manifestly negative behaviour of the group convenor to stop, and for the forum to continue as it had, for the benefit of all. I had believed their stated aim, to promote creativity. 

My expressing my frustration at her characterisation of my attitude directly to her was - ironically - felt to be unattractive and unnecessarily aggressive. I think she had expected me to be deferential and humble. She misunderstood my anger at the inexplicable overall situation as ingratitude towards her efforts. More ‘wallowing’ was projected onto me, when all I had ever wanted - ironically - was to progress from this unwanted and unforeseen unpleasantness into greater literary productivity. 

I was baffled by the acceptance and normalization of this sort of pettiness and brazen political bias in a supposedly creative community. Assured it was the way it always had been, and always would be, and that ‘everyone just had to live with it, and accept it, because that’s (ironically) how a co-operative works’, I left. 

The Covid 19 crisis has since intervened to disrupt these kinds of face to face meetings, and in the years since I left that group I have found other far more dynamic and better facilitated and more effectively-led creative writing groups, of which I am an enthusiastic and productive member. My creativity has happily flourished. 

That group have since apparently moved to other venues, and I remain in  contact with some members of that group who are fellow literary lovers. But it was unfortunate that in their propping up the egoistic displays of the grand old party, as it was then, that the opposite of the stated aim of the group was so ironically affirmed. It was not inclusive. It was exclusive. And it was not come one, come all. If you weren’t the ‘right kind’ of writer, having hustled or suffered or struggled in the approved way, then those very material facts and issues would operate against you. 

People like that see everything about you, but not the actual you. They register stereotypes and biases and facile assumptions and what they themselves project, but not the essence of what they look at, obscured by all these distorting frames. 

It was - ironically - an exact replica of the gatekeeping antics that the convenor continually complained about as unjust and oppressive in the hegemonies of the wider world; which he often loudly lamented had excluded him and his tribe and - ironically - conferred on him by doing so the Romantic Status Of The Eternal Outsider, which many poets justly embrace.

I am probably one of the few people in this city who have seen the not-so-nice side of the people concerned in this incident. It’s not that they pretend to be different from what they appear to be, exactly. It’s just that - over time - and under pressure - we all show everything that we are. And sometimes those qualities are paradoxical and contradictory. 

Far from ‘wallowing’, I haven’t thought much about this group for 3 years. But I remember this person on her birthday, and raise a glass of unblushing wine to my former friend. May she be well, and well fed - and safe and happy - despite the conduct of some of the company she chooses to keep.  

I later wrote a poem about the errant facilitator of that little cabal. But it was just sarcastic, and scornful, and had no internal music. It didn’t take flight and spiral into harmonics the way some of my better works of writing do. I think, looking back now, this was probably caused by the limitations of the chosen subject matter.

The Fullest Right To Life

 

I would like to talk about euthanasia. The voluntary ending by a person of their own life, not as the result of depression or sudden tragedy or trauma; but as the result of a decision to cut one’s losses, and literally quit while you are ahead, still compos mentis: still legally of sound mind. 

In countries where the prevailing religious doctrine of centuries has taught that taking one’s own life is a sin, and will doom the person concerned to everlasting torment, (or continuous torment, if they believe in reincarnation), this is illegal, and often considered immoral. 

But if people choose to die with dignity, in a context in which they are not shamed or villified, would this not be a positive choice? 

As medical science has improved, human beings have lived longer. And they have expected more from their lives, living to the age of 80 rather than 40, with all the increased opportunity for life experience that affords a person. 

But so much of our philosophical and religious beliefs are context-based. Beliefs which get us through the springtime and summer of our lives will not always sustain us in our 60s and 70s, as our vitality fades and our economic productivity ceases. 

Contemplation of life reminds us of two different views of the phases of life: in traditional South Asian belief systems, the individual progresses from a student, to a householder, to a state of detachment from business and monetary concerns, to the state of spiritual contemplation known as ascetism. The individual’s fulfillment comes from increase in wisdom and social contribution. They are still seen as worthy of respect, in their golden years. 

In the Western world, life is generally seen through a more financial and material framework. The individual is defined by their economic productivity. As a student, they are financially dependent, and the first part of their life is invested in gaining skills and experience for their professional career. 

Then in their 20s, 30s and 40s they pursue the acquisition of wealth, success and status. In their 50s and 60s, unless health issues intervene, they consolidate their position. But when they retire, they have no income except for the returns on any investments they have made, and the value society places on them sharply falls. 

In their declining years, as health problems increase, their friendship groups dwindle, and their physical strength and mental ability decrease, people become more vulnerable. And many of them do not have support structures of family and friends to sustain and console them. 

In some tribal cultures in the world, elderly people voluntarily walk out into the harsh and exposed landscape, to ease their tribe of the burden of caring for them. In more ‘civilized’ societies, we do not think that is humane. So elderly people are cared for at home by their adult children, or in respite care, which becomes more hospital-like as their health problems increase. 

Providing for our future, and that of our family, which was our guiding concern in the first part of our life, becomes more urgent at this stage, as our vulnerability places us at risk. 

The societies in which euthanasia is legal and acceptable are what I would call societies whose legal systems are not influenced by religious doctrines, but see human life in an essentially practical way. If a person has lived a full and productive life, faced their challenges as well as they can, and is now in a situation where their health will only decline, and there is no improvement possible, and only suffering for themselves, and torment for their loved ones imminent, why is their choice to terminate that suffering characterized as a ‘sin’, or a ‘crime’? 

I am not referring here to people who are clinically depressed, or psychologically fragile, whose beliefs about their inability to prevail are generated by negative thoughts, and therefore are not realistic. Not people in their teens or 20s who are anxious about the future, or people undergoing traumatic events like job loss, health crises or relationship breakdowns including divorce. In life’s journey, with appropriate support, we can all live to learn and grow beyond such challenges. 

I am talking about conscious detachment, taken to the next logical level, with religious doctrine and emotional sentiment removed from it. I don’t think we have the right to tell each other what to do when it comes to this aspect of life, which is a personal choice each individual should decide for themselves. 

I would have thought that in South Asia, where many belief systems teach people about the reality of impermanence and belief in acceptance of life’s challenges is so widely believed and practised, euthanasia in the future would be an option that many would choose, if their personal circumstances qualified them to do so. 

Surely the right of all human beings to live their life to the fullest, and make use of every opportunity for happiness, should include the right to end their life when that fullness of life is irrevocably compromised. 

Less Than Meets The Eye

 

‘Oh, Say! Can you see? At the dawn’s early light? 

What so proudly we hailed 

At the twilight’s last gleaming’. 

Do you recognize these words in the title of this piece? They are the opening lines of the American national anthem, sung at big public occasions every year. We generally hear the first verse only, sung by the reigning diva who can hit the high note at the end. I believe that Whitney Houston is pretty much universally regarded as the one who hit that note best. 

As the 45th President goes down the terrible, narrowing path towards impeachment, with his actions being investigated, and what he sought to cover being exposed, blustering through and shedding his former advisors along the way, I think that the citizens of his country must be finding it hard to sing those words. As the music swells, they are surely forced to contrast the lyrics with their current situation, led by an individual so far from the image of the ideals of statesmanship; and so not an embodiment of the qualities they want to admire in their leader.  

 

In feudal societies, the King was supposed to embody the values most admired by the people he ruled. What a comment on the state of the nation that prides itself on being a beacon of democracy, that today this is their leader. The vulgarity he displays: the misogyny, the bullying of the vulnerable and the minorities, the coarseness of speech, the narcissism and the random rambling discourses via Twitter signal the end of an Empire, presided over by a man who makes his own citizens ashamed, because he represents the worst of them, loudly and proudly. 

He has continually given the signal for crudeness, littleness of vision, bigotry  and inhumanity to be normalized, and this era of the history of his country may be looked back upon as a low point for the people who felt they lived by God’s decree in ‘the land of the free and the home of the brave’. 

We should not underestimate the moral force of accountability. Human beings judge each other not only by their appearance and their words, but by their conduct, and leaders are held to a higher standard of conduct than ordinary people. 

In ancient agricultural societies, the King’s conduct was said to be observed by the gods, who rewarded moral and righteous behaviour with prosperity and good rains and bountiful harvest. If the land suffered famine or drought or flood or disaster, and the ruler did not act correctly to remedy the situation, the ruler himself was seen as lacking. The leader could not survive for long when the people retracted their belief, hope, trust and admiration from him. 

Remember the usurpers in the dramatic historical plays, who found the robes of kingship sitting awkwardly on them, because they were made for bigger men? The role of the ‘leader of the free world’ shows the character of the incumbent: his (or her) strengths and weaknesses, unadmitted flaws and innate greatness. The spotlight is on the undeserving, and its illuminating power is harsh.  

Human beings need to aspire to something higher than their baser selves. They need to see their shining ideals reflected back at them, not defaced and degraded to the point that public celebrations are hollow travesties of joy, and empty gestures of one deluded man’s vanity and the sycophancy or fear of those that support him. 

I wish the last verse of the anthem was sung more often: 

‘Oh thus, be it ever, when freemen shall stand, 

Between their loved home and the war’s desolation!

Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n-rescued land 

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!’ 

I find it amazing that leaders today think the contrast between their rhetoric and their conduct is not visible to the voters whom they claim to represent. With access to contemporary technology, we have every petty insult and spluttering invective on YouTube on record forever. We can contrast the promises scattered like confetti in the year of election with the laziness, stasis and disinterest, brazen corruption, venality and bored time-serving in the years afterwards. 

Tyrants and fascists may boast that breaking the rules of decency is a show of strength, but accountability is something that actually matters: the congruity of words and deeds, of promises and their fulfillment. Normalizing the bad behaviour of those in authority does not alter that. In fact, it intensifies and sharpens the need for it. Freedom and bravery depend on that congruity. It takes courage to make dreams of greatness come true - not only for an elite or a first family and their cronies, but for the people who have labored for so long - with so little respect or even attention, from those they have mistakenly elevated over them. 

In Dreams Begin Realities

When I Was A Child, I Spoke As A Child, I Understood As A Child, I Thought As A Child’. This is a statement about the change in perspective that occurs as we grow older, quoted from The Bible, from 1 Corinthians, 13:11. (New King James Version). This hand-written verse was also a central image used in the film ‘Wings Of Desire’. The second part of the sentence is ‘but when I became a man, I put away childish things’. 

As we evaluate our lives at different stages, at times we may lose a sense of direction, and we are encouraged at times like these, by various life coaches and mentors, to recall what we thought about life and ourselves when we were about 6 or 7 years old. What were the dreams we had, then, of the life to come? What visions did we have, for the future? Where are we now, in relation to those dreams? 

These are the key questions: Who are we? What is our purpose? Where are we going? Is what we are doing today, going to get us to where we want to be? If not, what can we do to get back on track? 

Asking these questions is difficult at times, especially if we feel we have drifted off course, and are currently not living our best life, in alignment with our dreams; but doing so helps us reset our life direction. 

The poet Wordsworth made the comment that ‘Heaven lies about us in our infancy.’ In his ‘Intimations Of Immortality’, this statement expresses the need to connect with a powerful sense of childhood wonder: 

‘Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, 

Hath had elsewhere its setting, 

And cometh from afar.’

As life unfolds, with its challenges and disenchantments, this sense of divinity and joy directly competes with growing exhaustion and cynicism. As a Romantic poet, intensely believing in the redemptive power of the imagination, Wordsworth in his poem points to the child’s natural and innate hopefulness, optimism and openness to life, and contrasts this with the man-made institutions of education and the harsh lessons of experience which oppress us and make us cynical and callous as adults: 

‘Shades of the prison-house begin to close 

Upon the growing Boy, 

But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, 

He sees it in his joy... 

Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, 

A six-years’ Darling of a pigmy size! ...

See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, 

Some fragment from his dream of human life, 

Shaped by himself with newly-learned art

A wedding or a festival, 

A mourning or a funeral;

And this hath now his heart, 

And unto this he frames his song’. 

There is a project called ‘Little Minds, Strong Values’ currently being developed in Sri Lanka, using songs by Rukshan Perera with lyrics which have embedded values like tolerance, self-worth, and honesty, which hopes to impact children in these formative years, to build the foundations of ethics and moral strength for character development. Through songs and music videos, which are easy to hear, understand and absorb, these ideals can become manifested in action.

We use the term ‘second nature’ to describe positive behaviour which we have learned to develop, and which has now become part of us. But Wordsworth would probably say that this is a return to our true nature: the joyful, essential self which we experienced as our true condition, before we started responding to the frustrations of our dysfunctional society. 

I have seen this idea of reconnecting to  lost innocence in a famous film sequence in ‘Space Odyssey: 2001’, in presentations at entrepreneurship seminars and leadership academies, and in film, literature, visual art and song. ‘Healing The Inner Child’ is a strong theme in psychotherapy, as the experiences we have as children and our responses to them form our character, through which we then go on to experience the world as adults. 

We are impressionable and responsive. Our sensitivity to the world brings us joy as well as sorrow. Our redemptive opportunity is in the power to access that child-state of curiosity, openness and wonder, again, at will. 🤩

Privacy In The Public Eye

 - Published in Ceylon Today, Monday 15th July 2018 -

Niccolo Machiavelli, several centuries ago,  said to a Medici prince: ‘Everyone sees what you appear to be, few experience what you really are’. This statement is surely even more true in this publicity-hungry era, characterized by internet fame and public relations exercises. 

Influencers, authorities and public figures these days are so conscious of the way their life is presented to their growing public that they often modify it to represent a version of themselves that may at times be very different from the reality. As their movie launches, or their book ‘drops’, or their event goes viral, they are required to promote it, using themselves and the image they present. But Insta-appeal is not the most satisfying of lifestyles to generate, and every one of these public figures has a personal life. The public’s interest, or ‘right to know’, is often used as a justification for speculation and intrusion on these individuals, but this is not a given right:  the actress Emma Thompson once fiercely denied that the public are really interested, accusing an Australian reporter of trying to aggressively generate that interest, by rudely breaching her right to privacy in an interview, to trigger her response and increase ratings for his TV show. 

The tension between our private and public lives is one which everyone navigates, and it can be a volatile one. In an era of data mining, identity fraud and computer hacking, in which details of the FAQs of our lives are demanded in exchange for access to services we desire, it is both difficult and necessary to be vigilant about what and how we share ourselves and aspects of our image. 

People have become more self-conscious as a result of the worldwide selfie phenomenon - and even the most avid Instagram influencer must tire at times of the effort needed to constantly update the visual story their pics and captions portrays. Some people routinely reveal far too much to their online ‘family’ - details of their current location, the digital codes of their airline tickets, the faces and ages of their children, the status of their intimate relationships, and even their home address, locatable via GoogleEarth. In an effort to connect or show off, they compromise their privacy and that of their loved ones. 

To not lose our sense of self, I suggest that the connection between our public persona and our private self could be more intentionally and effectively managed, with a sense of boundary operating at all times to preserve our safety and dignity - at the same time as we offer insight into our thoughts and feelings to the outside world. Amidst the sneak peeks and the slow reveals, there is our actual and ongoing life, which requires privacy, and time to ourselves. 

People in real life are not robots, and we lapse, and blur these boundaries ourselves all the time. And these lapses often make us more appealing. In fact, via Instagram and Twitter, celebrities and public figures and their media personnel can share images from their personal lives with their fans in ways which make us feel like we ‘know’ them. They can see our texts and reply to our tweets if they wish. And sometimes the insights they give via their personalized posts on public platforms are very personal, and revealing. Celebrity couples share glimpses of their meals together, and behind-the-scenes preparations for public celebrations, and normalize themselves to the public by sharing family pictures and stories of their personal failures and disappointments. 

We get invited into their homes, via TV crews, we can see J.K. Rowling making a chocolate cake in her kitchen for her child’s birthday party, or crying when she visits the apartment she was living in when she wrote the first Harry Potter book, and her life seemed then as if it was ‘at rock bottom... which became the foundation on which she built her life’. The sincerity of her comments on this, in her public Commencement Address at Harvard are seen more vividly, in the light of this personal revelation. 

Oprah Winfrey built her media career interviewing people on living room chairs and couches in front of a studio audience, and now conducts philosophical and spiritual discussions on chairs set under trees in the gardens of her home. The phrase ‘opens up’ is used frequently in promotions for these interviews, to advertise that revealing information is exclusively conveyed in the conversation between two apparent friends, which we can witness and in which we participate through the alluring facsimile of intimacy created by technology. 

Entrepreneurs, leaders and proactive people who actively shape their own careers are very aware of this significant discrepancy. A Resume or CV only lists an individual’s achievements and accolades. A brilliant diagram I recently saw showed the difference between the surface success and the sacrifices, frustrations and hard work beneath, in the form of an ice berg. 

Visible on the top of the image is 1/10th of the mass of the iceberg, above the surface of the water and in the open air. Degree certificates, trophies, medals and awards are seen here. In the cross-section presented in the image we then see the 9/10ths of the mass under the surface: the rejections, the sleepless nights, the tears, the expenses, the disappointments, the challenges and stresses of meeting targets and managing expectations. We see also the priorities which must be given to staying healthy, to the formation of good habits and a growth mindset, of persistence and focus, of daily goals and determination, of the need to manage our time, money and energy. 



In fact, a person can generate interest in their efforts by lifting the curtain on their lives, and showing the backstory of the glittering public image they present. They can show the hard work, and the doubts and fears they had to overcome. They add to their brand by doing so, and to some extent show themselves as deserving the recognition they are given. They speak of their gratitude, and the opportunities they have been given, but they also show how hard they have worked to generate their own success. This to some extent creates protection from the negative effects of jealousy and envy from their fan base as well as those who do not wish them well. 

Beyoncé for example, in her recent documentary ‘Life Is But A Dream’, spoke of the sadness of her miscarriages, and some of the issues she had to deal with in her family and in the African American community which at times has regarded her huge success, and great talent and beauty, with mixed feelings, through the filter of their own less-than-wonderful experiences. 

People in this era created the paradoxical form of communication known as the ‘humblebrag’: where a person wishes to draw attention to their achievements but at the same time does not wish to seem arrogant or boastful. So they say ‘I am humbled and honoured to be given this award/tribute/recognition’. They emphasize what a team effort it has been. They position themselves as part of a collective, and acknowledge the love and support of their partners and families. This is usually absolutely true, but also very strategic - because it diffuses the attention of the public, which can sometimes be as lethal as The Eye Of Sauron in its condemnation. 

The Hunger Games trilogy of books showcased this very well, showing the protagonist’s struggle to create and sustain an appealing public persona which could literally mean her survival in a world of televised sponsorship of a public event which was a contest of life and death, engineered as a political display. 

In Ancient Rome, the senators had a house in the country where they lived with their family, and a town house in the city, where they were available to fulfil their responsibilities in their professional life. Through technology, we are now available to everyone in both spheres 24/7, unless we separate the personal from the public in our own era. 

It is worth noting that those classical public figures often named their private homes names like ‘Mon Repos’ - ‘My Place Of Rest’. The public eye and the spotlight and centre stage is not actually where the real life happens, to real people. Unless we actually know them personally, we only see what they appear to be.  

In The Likely Event Of An Emergency

Last week, Flight UL 605 from Melbourne to Colombo was rescheduled, due to the fact that the plane had been struck by lightning. The passengers were waiting to board at the gate. We were given a food voucher while the airline checked on the status of the plane. ️ 

There were 300 or so passengers involved, booked on the direct flight which saves so much time and trouble in transit through various airports. Many of the passengers were retirees, some were disabled, and there were several groups of Australian tourists, faced with missing the early part of their pre-booked and pre-paid tours. 

I am aware that there have been a number of complaints about the national carrier in social media over the past several months, and I am writing this to testify that, in this difficult situation on 4th November, the Sri Lankan Airlines staff both on the ground at the airport, and on the flight when the flight took off the next day, were exemplary in their conduct: professional, courteous and very calm and helpful. 

There were a mere 4.5 hours of administrative distress between the time we were waiting at the gate to when we were given vouchers to hotels, or cab vouchers to friends’ houses, to stay the night in Melbourne and await the call to return for the rescheduled flight the next day. 

It was not chaos, it was relatively orderly. People were realistic, and comparatively cheerful. But it was frustrating. There were no small trolleys made available for the lugging of carry-on baggage as we trekked back to the baggage carousels, and then back to the booking counters to hand in our initial boarding passes. There seemed to be no ground support at the airport helpfully indicating where lifts or escalators were. If you were physically disabled or handicapped, it would have been very difficult. 

In those 4.5 hours, it was easy to think about things we normally don’t consider.    We were not struck by lightning. We were neither damaged nor destroyed. We were inconvenienced, and that gap between our expectation and the reality was navigated very well, largely because of the attitude of both the passengers and the airline staff. Passengers with the need to make early connections in Melbourne to other flights could have been identified earlier than they were, people needing assistance with heaving their carry-on luggage from area to area of the airport, could have been supplied with small trolleys, and those sturdy golf buggies could have been used far more effectively to dissolve the miles of faux marble floors through the Duty Free to the gates in reverse. 

The eventual flight when it took off a few hours late on 5 November was definitely a blessing in disguise: two planes were apparently used to serve the passengers, so there was far more comfortable seating available. The in-flight films were excellent. The food was tasty, and served in abundance. Not a single event of air turbulence. A perfect landing. 

How many times do any of us think, while complying with airline safety regulations, about the possibility that any act of God could happen, to destroy our plans - not only for our holidays, but our lives? The more frequently we fly, the more likely it is that an emergency may occur. What if the plane had been struck by lightning with all of us on it?  We would probably not have had time to be afraid - or to complain. 

Some years ago, on a flight from South America to Sydney, I met a young woman who had never flown on a plane before. Having come by bus to the airport from her small town, she was completely entranced by every little detail of the flight. It was a long flight, direct from Buenos Aires, and there were several meals served. 

The airline staff served chocolate and vanilla ice cream Magnums for dessert, and this young lady laughed out loud in joyful delight. When we all asked why, she said: ‘I cannot believe I am having ice cream - in the sky!’ 

May All Beings Be Well, And Happy

 

As the New Year starts, I open the newspapers, phones, screens and tablets that give me my world news, and see disaster and damage everywhere. Fires in Australia, threats of war between the U.S. and Iran, billions of animals killed by disaster and neglect and cruelty: a list of disorders. All of this triggers fear and apprehension. 

Caught up in reaction to the sorrow of the many losses of others, I become reactive and mournful, prone to believing this is the end of the world as I have known it. In some ways, it is. Much of the bushlands where we used to walk and play and picnic as children are burnt to the bone, the beautiful canopies of the eucalypt forests are stripped, and so many of those family holidays centered on the natural world can no longer take place. 

Communications experts tell us that we should not start the day by looking immediately at incoming news bulletins. Some of them are fake, many are sensationalist and written in a deliberately provocative way, with images and click bait titles designed to shock the viewer. 

In addition to this, which destabilizes us and skews our equilibrium on a daily basis, we are subject to the publication of news articles where the content is different in each language. This means our opinions are being differentially shaped and formed, from the very point of our consumption of information. 

Looking at this smorgasbord of information and misinformation immediately when we wake up starts us thinking in a fear-fuelled way. Then, in that flight or fight condition, we are more likely to make choices in our daily lives which are aggressive or destructive, thus increasing the challenges in the world. 

It is suggested that rather than do this, which will inevitably lead to bad hair days, and further difficulties, we should start our days in meditation and self support. Yoga stretches. Fresh fruit juices. Good thoughts. 

Learning and practising the Metta meditation in Buddhism has been greatly helpful in calming the mind. Many people I know do this as a regular practice, both on waking to a new day, and as they prepare to seek some rest at the end of a day they have just completed. 

Looking at the words, and the sequence in which they are structured, we can see how intelligently they are chosen and utilized. We start - not with others and their concerns and demands, but with ourselves and anything which is blocking us. This sequence is based on the principle of ‘First, heal thyself’. The self is ground zero. 

May I be free of anger and fear. 

May I be free of greed, hatred and delusion. 

May I be free of conflict and suffering, dukkha.

May I be well, and happy. 

May all beings be well, and happy. 

See the arc of emergence that our thoughts and emotions can be directed to follow? And note that the first two defilements we address in our own minds are anger and fear: the very emotions related to our anxiety about our own survival that so much of the news media and so many conversations and chat threads in social media knowingly activate. 

From anger and fear, which make us crazy with often unexpressed pain, come the secondary deadly sins: the coping mechanisms, the temporary ways of enduring chronic suffering and discomfort which we feel we cannot seem to get to the root cause of. Greed, (Self) Hatred and Delusion. 

Then this inevitably affects the way we relate to others: prompted by our toxic feelings, we act out in our relationships. This leads to retaliation, as we humans are such ego-driven beings. Then we get enmeshed in secondary fallout. It is a terrible trap, and wastes a lot of our time and vital energy. 

Observing the causal relationships here can help us to stop this destructive circuitry that is created by ignorance and habit, as well as cynically stimulated by the cultural environment in which we live, which profits from our reactiveness. 

Only through constant practice and conscious awareness can these neural pathways be altered and a far better default mechanism be created by ourselves. 

Only then, feeling well in ourselves, can we truly operate effectively, with good intentions in our world, sincerely wishing our fellow human beings wellness and happiness. 

The Benefit Of The Doubt

It takes generosity of spirit to give another human being what we call the benefit of the doubt. If we look at the phrase, we can see that it suggests that the best ‘benefit’ we can offer other people is a moral and social space created by our decision to withhold or suspend initial judgment of their actions. This space, a gift from us to them, enables them to explain themselves, to add factual detail and context others may not be aware of, and to remedy the situation. 

The word ‘benefit’ itself comes from the Italian word ‘bene’ - meaning something good, as in the words ‘beneficial’ or ‘beneficiary’. A blessing. I suggest, at this stressful time in human history, we could all do ourselves a giant favour and start to consciously give each other this universal benefit. 

Because it truly is a gift we give ourselves, when we give others the space to make mistakes and own up to them, instead of rushing to judgment on them with very few facts and all our own biases on show. 

What we gain (possible affirmation of our correct assumptions) in jumping to conclusions is far less than what we lose: our peace of mind, our fluidity and grace, our compassion, our willingness to suspend our disbelief, and temporarily quell our skepticism and cynicism. 

Being rigidly judgmental of others is a full-time job, as every human being  makes mistakes. Perfectionism is a compulsion, and often those who are cruel to others, condemning them publicly and vocally for their faults, are harsh in their assessment of themselves as well. This sort of mentality is a curse to the one who carries it. There is no rest  for the hyper-critical. 

Many of us in this mirror maze of social and community life judge others superficially for what we hear about them, and do not make the effort to withhold judgment till enough facts are available to give us a fuller picture. We want to feed our appetite for sensational news. We silently say to ourselves - as Shakespeare’s Othello said to the person he believed was his best friend: ‘Give thy worst of thoughts the worst of words’. He paid dearly for his tendency towards the superlative. 

And this bias towards retributive justice, punishment and exposure is what we call - in the age of the rapid fire technology of the internet, and especially social media - ‘cancel culture’. 

With a few well placed words, any person’s reputation can be tagged for ‘exposure’ and ‘revelation’. 

It’s a quest for a visceral jolt of dopamine or serotonin, observable in those who pride themselves on condemning others. Like a demolition game. People find it amusing to see other people fall from great heights, and those who engineer that downfall frequently pride themselves on having performed a social benefit, tagging their attacks as PSAs (Public Service Announcements). It also means the crowds and pileups on Facebooks and the flash mobs on Twitter can go after other people; and there’ll be free space on the banks of the rivers of self righteousness for those who - having targeted others - feel unlikely to be targeted themselves. 

But is it not an indulgence on their part, to allow their inner critic loose on the world? Not in acts of defense but of aggression? 

When the facts of the matter are finally in, the scandal mongers and panhandlers are also exposed, with their unkindness publicly apparent. In their fervent (and sometimes sadistic) wish to take down their externalised target, they over-reach, and are often themselves confounded. 

It is such an apparent gift, ‘to have a dislike of that kind’, as Elizabeth Bennet says in Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. But the true gift in my opinion would be self-giving and self-renewing: to hold back our own hand with the sharp, self-styled sword of justice in it. To not pursue justice, or seek self-righteously to be an instrument of it, in the life of another human being. But rather to give people time to register and address the true facts of the case, instead of exhausting ourselves in cutting the pieces of a picture to make them fit - into an explanation that was created by our own pre-existing and persuasive beliefs and assumptions.

When we look at the parables and teaching stories of the Buddha and of Jesus in the Jataka stories and the Christian scriptures, we see human cruelty and hypocrisy very openly showcased in the everyday incidents that come up for discussion. People in every age and culture are quick to stand in judgment over others. 

But at the heart of human happiness is the capacity to forgive. To let go the ties of memory and hatred and revenge and shame and personal dislike and moral disapproval that compel us to point the finger of retribution at others. To let the fate of others be determined by external forces, instead of taking it upon ourselves to condemn and criticize them. 

A very wise person once told me that it’s good to remember that when a person offends us they are usually not behaving aberrantly. We are only offended by their particular behaviour in our own encounter with them, but their larger life is likely to be cumulatively filled with encounters like this. And they will go on offending others until the negative consequences to themselves start adding up - and they realize that there is a pattern to their experience which they should pay attention to. 

Because we are such self-focused and self-referential creatures, it usually takes intense suffering and discomfort on our own part before we realize we need to act to make changes in our way of thinking and behaving. 

The most interesting people I know are people who reserve judgment and observe before they act and speak. They are the most likely to be able to contain themselves, and to weigh and balance contrasting facts and ideas. 

They use their faculties of intelligence and wisdom to evaluate, assess and question their own biases. And they understand what a weight judgment carries, and what an act of violence imposing it - without concern for the consequences - can be, on our fellow human beings. 

Fabrications In Othello

This is the draft of an article that will be published in The Hopkins Review later in 2020.

Image credit: Sutori

I first read the story of ‘Othello the Moor of Veniceʼ in narrative form in Lambʼs Tales From Shakespeare. Then I studied the play at school, in Sydney, Australia, aged 16. I saw it then simply as a love story, disrupted by jealousy and interference. A few years later, I studied it again in the Tragedy component of my undergraduate degree course in English Literature. My professor taught us that a tragic  heroʼs weaknesses were innately and paradoxically entwined with his strengths. 

Then I taught the play myself to consecutive 

classes of A-level English Literature students for years, from approximately 1985 to 2015. By then I had realized of course that the love story between Othello and Desdemona was complicated by issues of gender and race privilege and relative power status. We were now studying it in the contexts of Postcolonial and Feminist criticism and Identity politics. 

A terrific film, ‘Internal Affairsʼ, starring Richard Gere, Andy Garcia and Nancy Travis, set in contemporary Los Angeles, came out in movie theatres in 1990, and seemed to me to be profoundly inspired by the story of Shakespeareʼs play. Gere played the Iago character, with finesse, suavity and a sort of sleek and smiling predatory consciencelessness. Garcia played a strong willed and strong minded Latino cop, the Othello character, in charge of investigating the criminal behaviour of the police department. Travis played his sumptuous, highly intelligent wife, the Desdemona character. 

There are key differences in this modernized version. There is no Cassio figure. The hot-tempered and principled investigative officer is set up by the Iago figure, to suspect that his wife is being unfaithful to him with the very man he is investigating. Brilliant camerawork makes us, too, believe this is plausible. After all, what do we know about other peopleʼs private lives? 

Garcia confronts Travis just as Othello does Desdemona in the play, in front of a group of her friends. In this case, at an elegant public restaurant. He asks her who she has had lunch with. She has been told by Gere, whom she believes is her husbandʼs colleague, not to say that she had met him. But Garcia has already seen them meeting at a cafe. So when she repeatedly denies it, he hits her, just as Othello does Desdemona when he thinks she is mocking him by sleeping with Cassio and laughing at his being recalled to Venice. She falls to the ground, in slow motion, in front of their horrified friends. 

 But unlike the 16thC play, the film shows the response of a modern woman. When Garcia returns to the apartment to pack and move out, his wife is there, and she confronts him directly with her anger at his violent and crazy behaviour. He shouts back and explains what has been going on in his mind. She tells him that if she had wanted to be with anyone else, she wouldnʼt be with him. Itʼs absolutely true. And they are able to break down the manufactured distrust with communication. Because she has standing in the relationship. Because they are partners. Because thereʼs respect and honesty, at the base of the connection. 

In this modern telling of the story, there is no handkerchief. Itʼs contemporary America, so the material object thrust into the face of Garcia by Gere is a piece of ladies underwear which he has taken from this ladyʼs home without her knowledge, let alone her consent. The fact that he had it with him and tells her wounded husband Garcia to wipe his face with it (he has just bashed him in the face and he is bleeding) suggests to Garcia that intimacy has indeed taken place. But itʼs fabricated evidence. Literally. Only a man with a mind poisoned by lies would believe it. 

That handkerchief, the piece of luxury fabric in ‘Othelloʼ, was the only item of circumstantial evidence Iago has to support his claim that Desdemona is intimate with Cassio. It is described as an item of exquisite beauty, luxury and value. An heirloom piece. Silk, hand embroidered with strawberries. The first gift of love and admiration Othello gave Desdemona when he was courting her. 

This piece of material with ‘magic in the web of itʼ is embossed and adorned by layers of significance imposed by Othello himself. He initially describes it as a gift which was given to his mother by an Egyptian woman with a gift for psychic insight, a ‘charmerʼ. She said that if Othelloʼs mother kept it with her her husband would always be faithful to her, such was the power of this piece of embroidery. On her deathbed, Othelloʼs mother gave it to her son, and told him to give it to his own wife, when he decided to marry. 

Othello did some lively embroidery of his own: he tells Desdemona, who by this time cannot quite remember where she last put the handkerchief, that the material for the handkerchief was made by ‘hallowʼdʼ silk worms, and it was dyed in liquid made from the heartʼs blood of virginal girls. The lady who sewed the embroidery in an inspired trance was a woman of great wisdom, 200 years old. In other words, this was a bespoke piece, if ever there was one. 

In this uniqueness, it stands as a metaphor for the most valuable gift a woman brings her husband in a patriarchal society. Her fidelity, which ensures the integrity of the family bloodline. 

Othello tells his wife that this handkerchief is the most valuable possession he has, and if she loses it, or carelessly gives it away, it would be the worst thing in the world. Extreme pressure. Of course, Desdemona had dropped the handkerchief when she had tried to use it to assist Othello when he had a headache, and he had thrust it away saying her napkin was too little to be of any use. Emilia, her trusted confidante, then took it and gave it to her husband. Iago then placed it in Cassioʼs rooms. Where Cassioʼs jealous, extroverted lover Bianca openly accuses him of cavorting with other women, based on this fabricated evidence. 

Iago twists the knife by saying to Othello that he has seen Cassio wiping his beard with this handkerchief. 

This objet de luxe was associated with Desdemona because she carried it with her everywhere, on her person. For it to be found in Cassioʼs rooms suggests she had visited him there, in secret, and left it there by accident. 

Iago tells us his plans in a soliloquy: 

The handkerchief was symbolically associated with Desdemona herself, white as snow, adored, adorned, valuable. And of course it symbolized her chastity, not just her bodily chastity but her emotional fidelity. To have another man not only take this valued gift but have it given to him willingly by the lady herself and then treat it with careless contempt is a multi-layered insult to Othello. 

So this is an inter-racial love story, in Venetian high society. But itʼs not just based on love. Othello is ambitious. And heʼs good at his job. And heʼs risen high, and fast, in a racist society which is not known as a meritocracy. When he falls in love and hands over luxury objects to the woman of his dreams, she is a Senatorʼs daughter. 

After all these years, reading, attending live performances and teaching the play, Iʼve noticed something odd about this handkerchief. Othello tells two versions of the story of its pedigree. 

His first version is that his mother is given it by this Egyptian lady. And she gives it to Othello. Act III.

His second version is that his father gave it to his mother. Act V. 

What? That makes absolute nonsense of the elaborate ‘official narrativeʼ. The stitching comes undone, under stress. Othello has just killed his wife, and discovered almost immediately afterwards that he had been wrong in his judgment of her, betrayed by his own jealousy and manipulated by a person he thought was his best friend. Heʼs in shock. But facts are facts. If the story he had told us was true, it would be true even at this point. 

To understand this strange discrepancy, let us look at the bigger context. 

Othelloʼs own ‘unvarnished taleʼ is that he is a man of North African royalty, who ‘draws his line from men of royal siegeʼ. But does he? Did he? How do we know? What legal proof is there of his illustrious lineage? We only have his word for it. His many words. 

What if Othello has fabricated his own history? Just as we see and hear him do with the handkerchief? What if he was a very strong, handsome and intelligent man of less than royal birth, whose sheer prowess as a paid soldier enabled him to buy luxury items to impress a woman like Desdemona? 

What if he had created a narrative which empowered him, and created an acceptable equivalency between him and the Senatorʼs daughter? It would certainly consolidate his social position in Venice, and make his seat at the Dogeʼs dinner table more secure. 

This is an eloquent man, who speaks the ‘Othello musicʼ. He can make us believe whatever he wants us to believe. 

And when he says to Iago that his wife ‘had eyes and chose (him)ʼ, he meant it. He was proud of it. She was famous for being ‘opposite to marriageʼ, and rejecting local men: the ‘wealthy curled darlingsʼ of Venice, who aspired to her hand in marriage. She loved Othello because he was different, and exciting, and unknown. She cannot believe he could be jealous, like an ordinary man: 

She believes he is exceptional, because she believes she herself is exceptional. But it doesnʼt take long for her to start exercising her race privilege, and telling her husband the General that he had made a mistake in firing Cassio. Why does she feel so entitled so early in their marriage to interfere in his professional life? Most women would not, would they? In the early 16th century? 

But here, although Othello as an alpha male in a patriarchal society has gender privilege, she in a racist and colorist Italian society has white female privilege. She says she knows Cassio deserves to be reinstated, and her loyalty and persistent support of her friend is misread by Othello. As Iago knows it will be. She questions Othelloʼs authority and his professional judgment. Thatʼs a risky move, in any marriage. 

The handkerchief is a ‘trifle light as airʼ but it outweighs any record she has of devotion to her husband. They simply have not known each other very long, unlike the Los Angeles couple, who together prevail in the late 20thC over their own interfering bete noir. 

Which leaves me with one last question: Why would a man who is making a politically ambitious marriage get married in secret? Itʼs a weak move, strategically. Suggesting that this act is done clandestinely and without official sanction. Why would this couple elope? Why not do it in public, with full pomp and circumstance at The Cathedrale di San Marco? 

Was it because he knew his father in law would not approve? But Brabantio the respected old Senator ‘lovedʼ him! And ‘oft invitedʼ him to dinner! 

Was he afraid of his own father in law? A man like Othello, who is a military hero, decorated by the State of Venice? Afraid of the anger of an old man? A hero and a coward cannot be cut from the same cloth! 

But being an honored dinner guest of a Senator and being his son in law and the father of his grandchildren are two different matters, entirely. Othello the General is an entertaining dinner companion. His military prowess entitles him to respect. His words powerfully and poetically paint picturesque scenes. But was he considered qualified to be a worthy partner for a woman of that status in that society, in that era? Thereʼs an age gap, but we can be pretty certain itʼs the race difference that is seen as his only disqualification. 

We see that Brabantio is stirred to madness by - Iago. Who stands back in the shadows while Roderigo makes a protracted public scene at the beginning of the play in the street outside Brabantioʼs palazzo, so all the neighbors can hear. How the beautiful ‘white eweʼ, the prized daughter of the Venetian Senator has been stolen from the safety of her home by an ‘old black ramʼ. Scandal! 

Who do you think presented the secret marriage to Brabantio in the worst possible light? Who do you think was the only person Othello might have trusted with the secret? And even the necessary arrangements? And who most wanted the marriage to get off to its worst possible and most inopportune start? Was it everyoneʼs best friend, who we later discover had asked his wife to use her position of trust to get her hands on the handkerchief? And bring it to him, saying ‘I have a thing for youʼ? It was a complete stitch up. 

Brabantio predictably rushes to the Dogeʼs Palace in the middle of the night and lodges a public complaint against his former dinner guest. His accusations are seen as the ravings of a protective and fond old father. But they include accusations of black magic against Othello. Because only witchcraft (That Old Black Magic!) could have caused his modest and virtuous daughter to leave her home and cast herself on ‘the sooty bosom of such a thing asʼ Othello. 

Othello replies that the only witchcraft he has used is the magic of telling the story of his incredible life. Which touched the heart and sparked the imagination of Desdemona. We can well believe that to be the case. She says she ‘saw his visage in his mindʼ. 

Crisis unconceals character. And under the pride, the nobility, the resilience and the visible confidence and valor of Othelloʼs persona are unmet needs. Which he is unaware of. And which he, in that toxic masculine culture, cannot admit. For understanding. For respect - not for what service he does for the State, but for himself, as a man. To be loved for himself, not used or disrespected or mocked. Not seen as a stereotype. 

They still sell Othello and Desdemona dolls and puppets and costumes at Carnivale. Itʼs a true story, part of Veniceʼs actual colourful history, full of textures and textiles and living myths and tapestries. All with magic woven into them.