Is she to blame?

One of the pleasures one gets while reading literature or observing art, no matter what form it may take, is discovering themes that are presented with sufficient frequency as to make them obvious, yet, had lain unrecognized by the observer. To the observer/reader/listener, it is like discovering a vain of pure gold on their adventure through the work or among different works. I don't quite know how to express it; it is knowing something exists but "seeing" it for the first time when it has always been there. There are far too many of these possible themes to list, so I will concentrate on one, and the most recent, of my "discoveries".

Not least worthy among these themes is that of the woman who is driven to the extreme because of the influence of some man she loves, who fails to love her or who fails to live up to the love he professes for her. Doubtless it is that this theme has been material for investigation many times over, but I think it warrants another look still, albeit in the informal world of the my little blog. Certainly, I do not claim to be any "scholar". (Really, what is that but an agreement among certain participants to lay praise on each other's work, while only accepting others' views when it is convenient for them to include them? Also being well-informed in academic pursuits does not automatically make one well-informed across the board. And, no one, in my opinion, can claim any expertise in matters of the heart.) But a curious person can make observations, nonetheless, which require no certificate as proof of their ability to make them.

It struck me the other day that I had not given more than a passing thought to this theme, that, in reality stems directly from, and occurs repeatedly in, human experience. Really, what else can one do but draw from one's own experience? Imagination and fantasy can only go so far as human experience will allow. That is, the person may only imagine or fantasize something to the limit at which their human ability to do so will allow him/her, which, in turn, becomes an experience by the act of imagining or fantasizing, which from that point on is no longer unique. It matters not if others know of this process. We have no way to prove that others have not already imagined or fantasized the same concept, and thus experienced it, without the act of them sharing it outside of themselves. This is where art, in all mediums, serves a most useful purpose. Not all of us can experience what every other person on this planet does. So to understand an experience we have not had, we can live that experience vicariously through art. And if we have had the same experience as another, art gives us the space to gain a more objective view of our own situation when seen as the experience of SOMEONE ELSE'S life and not our own. I am certain to have read some scholar's work on this very idea. God only knows how many people had thought of it before me. But I have neither the skill, nor the inclination, to research who that(those) person(s) might be. I simply don't remember and don't care about it, except to the extent that the idea has merit (at least in my mind). Does the thinker of the idea matter more than the idea itself? Perhaps that is why I am no good at analyzing literature. There is a certain pompousness perpetuated in the process of regurgitating the names of predecesors who coined the words for some "novel" idea. And, at present, I see no merit it provides my life to participate in it. Maybe down the road I shall see things differently, that will all depend on the influences that sway my life and my perception of it up to any given point.

This brings me back to the point of this post. The experience of one's life is not achieved in a vacuum. Rather anything and everything that person encounters in his/her life has influence to a greater or lesser degree on that life. That that influence is positive or negative will depend on how that life is shaped thereafter.

There are countless examples I could use toward this point, but I will restrict myself to those of which I have most recently been reminded. Going through my materials from when the pursuit of my Master's degree meant something in my life, I found a well-known poem written by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz known as "Hombres necios", which I recall having previously posted on this blog, but do so again (along with a translation of it) for the ease of the reader and to support my point of this post.

Hombres necios que acusáis
a la mujer sin razón,
sin ver que sois la ocasión
de lo mismo que culpáis:

si con ansia sin igual
solicitáis su desdén,
¿por qué queréis que obren bien
si las incitáis al mal?

Combatís su resistencia,
y luego con gravedad
decís que fue liviandad
lo que hizo la diligencia.

Queréis con presunción necia
hallar a la que buscáis,
para pretendida, Tais,
y en la posesión, Lucrecia.

¿Qué humor puede ser más raro
que el que falta de consejo,
él mismo empaña el espejo
y siente que no esté claro?

Con el favor y el desdén
tenéis condición igual,
quejándoos, si os tratan mal,
burlándoos, si os quieren bien.

Opinión ninguna gana,
pues la que más se recata,
si no os admite, es ingrata
y si os admite, es liviana.

Siempre tan necios andáis
que con desigual nivel
a una culpáis por cruel
y a otra por fácil culpáis.

¿Pues cómo ha de estar templada
la que vuestro amor pretende,
si la que es ingrata ofende
y la que es fácil enfada?

Mas entre el enfado y pena
que vuestro gusto refiere,
bien haya la que no os quiere
y quejaos enhorabuena.

Dan vuestras amantes penas
a sus libertades alas,
y después de hacerlas malas
las queréis hallar muy buenas.

¿Cuál mayor culpa ha tenido
en una pasión errada,
la que cae de rogada
o el que ruega de caído?

¿O cuál es más de culpar,
aunque cualquiera mal haga:
la que peca por la paga
o el que paga por pecar?

Pues ¿para qué os espantáis
de la culpa que tenéis?
Queredlas cual las hacéis
o hacedlas cual las buscáis.

Dejad de solicitar
y después con más razón
acusaréis la afición
de la que os fuere a rogar.

Bien con muchas armas fundo
que lidia vuestra arrogancia,
pues en promesa e instancia
juntáis diablo, carne y mundo.

(Source: http://users.ipfw.edu/jehle/poesia/hombresn.htm)

You Foolish Men


You foolish men who lay
the guilt on women,
not seeing you're the cause
of the very thing you blame;

if you invite their disdain
with measureless desire
why wish they well behave
if you incite to ill.

You fight their stubbornness,
then, weightily,
you say it was their lightness
when it was your guile.

In all your crazy shows
you act just like a child
who plays the bogeyman
of which he's then afraid.

With foolish arrogance
you hope to find a Thais
in her you court, but a Lucretia
when you've possessed her.

What kind of mind is odder
than his who mists
a mirror and then complains
that it's not clear.

Their favour and disdain
you hold in equal state,
if they mistreat, you complain,
you mock if they treat you well.

No woman wins esteem of you:
the most modest is ungrateful
if she refuses to admit you;
yet if she does, she's loose.

You always are so foolish
your censure is unfair;
one you blame for cruelty
the other for being easy.

What must be her temper
who offends when she's
ungrateful and wearies
when compliant?

But with the anger and the grief
that your pleasure tells
good luck to her who doesn't love you
and you go on and complain.

Your lover's moans give wings
to women's liberty:
and having made them bad,
you want to find them good.

Who has embraced
the greater blame in passion?
She who, solicited, falls,
or he who, fallen, pleads?

Who is more to blame,
though either should do wrong?
She who sins for pay
or he who pays to sin?

Why be outraged at the guilt
that is of your own doing?
Have them as you make them
or make them what you will.

Leave off your wooing
and then, with greater cause,
you can blame the passion
of her who comes to court?

Patent is your arrogance
that fights with many weapons
since in promise and insistence
you join world, flesh and devil.

(Source: http://www.shearsman.com/pages/gallery/smith/11sorjuana.html)

The above translation is not the one I prefer; the one I prefer is in language more suited to the same time period in which the original was written and it rhymes, not modernized and without rhyme such as is this current translation. I cannot find the one I like better, at present. Basically, the poem "accuses men of the illogical behaviour that they criticize in women" (Encyclopaedia Britannica - www.britannica.com) and is a recurrent theme in art. I would venture to say it is probably more prevalent in works of literature, film and music than in most of the visual arts. I would think it a rather difficult theme to convey in such a medium, particularly in paintings or sculpture. Yet, it would not be impossible. Nonetheless, my few examples will show this theme's recurrence and, therefore, its pertinence to and influence on the life of the female human.

Of course, this pertinence and/or influence do not excuse the extreme acts that have occurred in the wake of any individual experiencing them. Certainly, though, the artistic vicarous experience can help to make others understand the mental and emotional state altered under them and how they might cause a breach of the threshold that typically is strong enough to hold back most individuals from committing acts of violence. Such an artistic example is found in the film "Last Tango in Paris", in which the young Jeanne is emotionally, mentally and physically coerced in an anonymous sexual relationship with Paul. He demonstrates a pattern of making her feel he has feelings for her, then contradicts himself in his words and actions. Even to the point of sodomizing her forcibly. (How is this movie considered a love movie? It is a movie of a psychotic man's control and manipulation over women...now THAT is SO loving.) In the end, she wants to disengage herself from the relationship and he will not let it go. He pursues her, chasing her through the streets and she realizes that this man will torment her endlessly if she does not escape from him and his influence on her completely. She ends up shooting and killing him in the end and can honestly disclose to the police that she does not know his name. Some would argue that she had no right to kill him. But would it have ended that he would have killed her eventually? It isn't until the end that you gain full understanding for the reason why his wife (Rosa) had committed suicide. She too was tormented by him, but rather than take his life she took her own, allowing him to continue his malevolent influence on another woman, Jeanne, who then ended the cycle by killing Paul. Regardless, both acts were extreme and neither woman saw a different way out than that which she chose.

Such scenarios are not mere art for art's sake, they are a reflection of the reality of human experience. Have not all of us read news reports of similar acts done by real women out of desperation to preserve their own lives and the lives of their children? Whether their acts are in anyway justified depends on whose perspective you see them from. Which of us would care to be relentlessly stalked by someone who we cannot be sure would not hurt us again, or even take our own life? Orders of protection are ineffective if a person truly wants to hurt the object of their obsession.

And, still, as long as men exert influence on women in personal relationships, this theme will be as endless in art as it is in real life. An even more contemporary example of this is a song sung by Celine Dion. It is a warning to men to treat women as ladies, so they won't provoke in them the kind of desperation that leads these women to go beyond that tenuous threshold of human restraint.



Here's a link to the lyrics
http://www.sing365.com/music/Lyric.nsf/Treat-Her-Like-A-Lady-lyrics-Celine-Dion/BD232DF3EA88939D48256864001F5787

It is clear the point Dion is making in this song. You can have a sane, well-adjusted female individual and push her to the extreme: "U'll make a good girl crazy / if you don't treat her like a lady". In this example, the extreme act is precipitated by the "good girl" being strung along and cheated on. Toying with a person's feelings and their mind is an emotional duress that some people, who might otherwise be passive, cannot endure and act on it in extreme. Let me clarify that the extreme act can be behavior other than violence. Silent treatments, verbal tirades, estrangements and divorce are all examples of extreme acts, in that, if the person in question felt that he/she was valued in the relationship and his/her thoughts and feelings were respected by the other person, it is likely that the former would not seek out the extreme act. What reason would one have to behave extremely if conditions were not present to precipitate such behavior, barring any true mental illness on that person's part? But these extremes happen every day, and so not all those who behave thus are mentally ill. The majority are not, but can be subject to conditions that put them in a positon of fight or flight. Each and every one of us is susceptible to this and, given the right circumstances, could be pushed to any of the extremes mentioned to this point.

Luckily the majority of extreme acts take the more passive forms, or else the two sexes would be systematically anihilating each other from the face of the planet. The planet's population growth shows this not to be the case, thankfully. But as long as there remain people on this planet, this theme of the lover driven to extremes is a drama that will play out in actuality and be rendered in the arts ad infinitum.

Battle of Plattsburgh

Today I walked in the Battle of Plattsburgh parade with the folks from Literacy Volunteers. As you can see, the group started out very small.



But later we had probably 15 people or more in our group. We handed out pencils with the Literavy Volunteers contact info on them to the kids and went through over a thousand pencils. I had another picture of the whole group, but I somehow accidentally erased it from my cell phone camera. What a shame! It was a good picture too! And next year I will be more prepared by remembering my camera, so I don't have to fumble with the one in my cell phone. Hindsight...

I had a few eventful moments there; I was greeted by a few people I knew along the route who made a point to get my attention. I also ran into this little fella. And people give ME weird looks when I stroll my cat in her stroller. Who knew you could stroll a rooster in a chicken wagon?



All in all, it was a fun event and I look forward to next year's parade.

Deja-doo-be-doo-be-vu

It is strange. I go through periods of my life, sometimes long, sometimes short, in which I find there is a particular song that plays frequently during that period. They aren't always one period after another. Sometimes there is a break between one and the next one. That break can also be long, or it can be short. I remember back in high school my boyfriend at the time had not long been moved away to Swasiland in Africa when the song Africa, by Toto, began playing on the radio. And, it seems, at times when I least expected it, simultaneously being moments when I missed him dearly (and had no expectation of him moving back to the Western hemisphere), the song would play and cheer me up.

Other songs reminded me of periods in my life too or of none. Sometimes songs would play that would have nothing but a tenuous connect to anything in my life. Some of the songs that fit into one category or the other were: You're The Inspiration (Chigago), Babe (Styx), Michelle (The Beatles) -- this of course, is a lifelong musical thread in my life. It used to be I couldn't stand the song. If I heard one more out-of-tune person, who fancied himself a comedian sing that song... If only I had imposed a tariff of a dollar payable at time of each infraction by all those would-be crooners out there who have chanced the oh-so-original replication of the famed: Michelle, ma bella... they never knew the rest of it. But one day, I actually paid closer attention to the song and fell in love with it! Continuing the list is Hello (Lionel Richie), I Will Remember You (Sara McLachlan and a multitude of other songs I was destined to have fade from my memory.

The lastest song in this innumerable list is the following:



YouTube wouldn't let me embed the original music video by Roxette (the embedding feature was disabled for that one), which is almost always my preferred version when posting videos, so I chose this one that some YouTube member made. It's pretty and goes well with the song. I must have heard this song no less than 10 times in the last couple of days, and on various radio stations, which is even stranger. And that is typically how the periods of song repetition begin.