Brief Thoughts on the Problem of Coriolanus

Or, How Readers Are Bothered By Their Own Inadequacies

I have a lot I can say about William Shakespeare's Coriolanus. For now I will focus on why I think most readers don't like the play or the man (character). I love him. At the very least, I respect him. As my enemy I would fear him. As my leader praise him. As a character in a play I stand in awe of his presence.

His anger is intense. His ideals are chiseled into an almost unbreakable stone. His hatred for those who will not fight in wars is clear. His distaste for the lower classes is distasteful in and of itself to most readers. His ability as a warrior is god-like. This is the man poets sing about. The guy people tell stories about, negative or positive.

He does not need our approval. Especially if we are in a lower class. What is it then that attracts me to him? Easy: the same thing that repulses others. I think some honest self-evaluation is in order when confronting this play.

Coriolanus doesn't pace around wasting time wondering who am I? Or what have I become? Or to be or not to be? He knows who he is and what he believes. That's the kind of guy he is. He has no desire to lie, no yearning for friendship.

He does not require acceptance.

The age I've grown up in is many things. One predominant thing I have noticed along my way is that people are often full of self-doubt. Self-doubt can be a good thing. But people seem to indulge in it, bathe in it, soak and whither to prunes in it.

I am surrounded by the wrinkled bodies of insecurity.

With so many people running around worrying about what people think about them, what people think of their looks, their hair, their clothes, their cars, their job status, their everything, it is no wonder Coriolanus is not popular.

There is nothing more terrifying for insecurity than confidence. And what is the best way to deal with confidence when you are a member of the Insecure Nation? Call it arrogance. Call it pride. Even use a capital P like this: Pride. Oh, so much more ominous now right? Shove it to arm's length and get all uppity on it. Self congratulate after too if you like.

It is easy to shrug Coriolanus off. It is easy to name call and label. I could just as easily label the insecure people many heavy terms (some might argue that I have). What if we consider the possibility that it is his unshakeable idea of self that bothers us? What if we see him for what he is: a man who already knows himself? With all the self-help cannon fodder going around spicing up the journey is the end mantra Coriolanus can be really bothersome. 

Whatever else Coriolanus is, be it man, dragon, son, father, husband, soldier, he is Coriolanus. There is no doubting that. Because he is so much himself Coriolanus is forever. I just hope that overwhelming insecurity isn't.

The Time the Drunk Guy Passed out in a Fire and Woke up After Dying...

Haunting, terrifying vision

I'm working on a play involving Tecumseh and his brother the Prophet. I'm sure it won't do him any justice. I have a strong desire to share this quote, even if my play does suck this quote doesn't.

Laulewasika was a drunk failure, grew up in Tecumseh's shadow. One day he gets too drunk, big surprise right? He falls into a fire. Everyone thinks he's dead. Then he wakes up. He has this to say: 

"I died, and was carried in a dream by the Master of Life down into the spirit world, until we came to a parting of the ways. To the right lay the road to paradise, open only to the virtuous few. To the left, I saw an army of forsaken souls stumbling on toward three dark houses, fearful dwellings of punishment and pain.
I saw repentant drunkards forced to swallow molten lead, and when they drink it, their bowels were seized with an exquisite burning. At the last house, the torment was inexpressible. I heard their screams, crying pitifully roaring like the falls of a great river."

If this doesn't strike you as terrifying you didn't read it properly. Nothing like some horrible damnation to make us pay attention to what's going on. Sadly, the people I most identify with have not learned from this vision. I am sure some will be upset with that statement, and that is OK. I do not mind.

Laulewasika changed his name after this to Tenskwatawa. May not seem like much. Until you have someone translate it for you. He goes from basically the loud mouth or the one who talks too much to the open door. He becomes The Prophet.

This transformation on its own is no small happening. He as an individual begins to represent what all down-and-out, defeated, displaced and depressed aboriginals must become. He is that light brought through the darkness, shining all the more brightly after the darkness is rubbed off. But I'm left looking at the world as it is and our place in it, and more importantly, my place in it. And I have a great sadness, a great burden upon my soul, for, overused terms as they may be, my people and my heritage.

I do not think that all Indians all over are depressed and sad people. But we are not as strong as we ought to be. Sure there is healing, sure there is happiness and laughter, sure there is reconciliation and talk of a brighter future. But that is just talk, that is just a flimsy, filmy layer over the dark history schools didn't want to teach, I am not that old but I remember my teacher getting in trouble for teaching about residential schools, this was late 90's into 2000's, hardly ancient history.

I remember far too much and have heard too many stories to sit in restless silence with a false smile on my face, accommodating a world that would not accommodate me. The memories that aren't mine are those of my ancestors, passed down through personal testament and story telling.

Luckily there are good story tellers out there who weave the good with the bad and leave their imprints on listener's souls in such a way that the tragedy is felt and the comedy shines through. But every now and then I feel like The Prophet's vision must be remembered, if only out of fear that it may come to fruition, if it hasn't already.

I want to take the road to the right, I want to be among the virtuous few. But I was born into the world on the left. And the right side would be lonely if everyone remained on the left, and how virtuous are you really if you leave everyone behind when you could have done something about it?

The brutal truth is just this: I don't have to have a vision to see that, I need only look out my window to see the dark houses of fearful dwellings of punishment and pain. I need only open my eyes to see the torment, unplug my ears to hear the roaring cries, stop listening to the meaningless filler and misleading political babble, sound out the background noise to hear the not-so-quiet muffled suffering of an unjust world trying to scream through closed mouth smiles. And this is not good enough for me.

New Year's Resolution Schmesolution

People Full of Shit? What's New? People Calling It Out? What Else Is New?

New Year's is a great time of the year. People make empty promises to themselves and the world around them, bitter people point that out as though that were an accomplishment in and of itself. The same routine all the time. It is a great little system.

I recently bought and devoured The Counselor by one of my all time favourite authors: Cormac McCarthy. This is an amazing little screenplay. I haven't seen the movie yet but it does look great.

One of the passages from the screenplay I think is very valuable around New Year's, here it is with some lines taken out:

"But time is not going to stop, Counselor. It's forever. And everything that exists will one day vanish. Forever ... Every timeless creation ... everything that perishes is but a likeness. That's really Plato on wheels ... seizing the day won't quite do it ... the only thing ultimately worth your concern is the anguish of your fellow passengers on this hellbound train."

This is WESTRAY speaking. He's like a businessman/middleman connecting the Counselor to another character and into the drug trade.

What is important here is the idea of time, our timeless art and creations, the Plato reference is always something handy to drop and walk away with that no-big-deal tone, it makes you look smart, especially if you get it right. What is really important here, for me, is the last part. The anguish of your fellow passengers. There is not enough of this outlook in the world. I'm not saying there isn't any. Just that there isn't enough.

Sure we have food bank drives, and endless commercials where Christians ask you to send money so they can feed and educate starving African children, we have local charities or even cashiers asking us to donate some money today. There is a good reward system in place for doing good. But you have to ask yourself exactly how much good are you doing? You should at least be suspicious of how quickly you felt good about doing that thing.

Everyone's resolution should be to not hurt anyone. That's the least and the most of what we can do for and to our fellow passengers. I know it is asking a lot and I know I will likely fail as well. But that does not give us permission to stop trying.

One of the goals you hear people proudly state when dealing with the human services field is this: people need to leave no worse than when they came in, that is how you know you've done some good. Usually the self-obsessed, ego-maniacs who says this are doing so while patting themselves on the back with huge shit-eater grins and grand self-congratulations, which is p.c. for masturbating all over the place. Saying it just isn't good enough.

The problem is that a lot of people leave our programs no worse off in spite of us. Not all people in the field are bad, there are a lot of great people with great intentions. But not everyone is a good person. This is obvious. This is everywhere. A lot of people have probably been that person before becoming another type of person.

On a personal level, if people stop trying to hurt others then they are doing some good. On a group level people can stop hurting each other and the scale of good is larger. On a social and cultural level the world starts looking like a better place. But hey, I'm a silly dreamer, let's go buy gym memberships now and donate to the Christians, they've always done good in the world, right?