Showing posts with label Heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heroes. Show all posts

Friday, 18 August 2017

What Did The Ancient Greeks Ever Do For Us?




I mean apart from democracy, philosophy, architecture, statuary and theatre, what did the Greeks ever give us? They always come off favourably in comparison with the supposedly more barbarian and plagiarist Romans, but for 'democracy' you also had 'despotism' (read Plato's "The Republic" which shows the way democracy can very easily slide into tyranny through its own lack of true awareness of important values). However it's the philosophy and the theatre which I really want to challenge for the supreme value of their heritage as it has passed down to us. 

I'm not going to say too much about the philosophy, except where it has resonance in art. Plato's phenomenalism is a crucial concept to how we perceive reality, with his famous example of slaves in a cave viewing the shadows thrown on the cave walls by their fire, equating to perceptive reality for these slaves who have never seen the world outside of the cave. He derives this example through his belief that the whole world of appearances which we take for reality, is but a degraded version of true reality and (aesthetic/mathematical) beauty.

For the highest existence of any object is its ideal form and in our world, actual objects never attain such an ideal form. Now this represents an important way of thinking & perceiving even in our modern world. Of course there are no 'ideal' forms of objects, but what there are is linguistic nouns which categorise all sorts of various 'non-ideal' forms of similar things; all breeds of dogs are 'Dogs' is the simplest representation of this. But consider something more debatable - is a flatpack table in Ikea's warehouse still a table before it gets sold and erected? Is a slave or hired prostitute at an orgy, who is ordered to bend over so that food can be served from their naked back, are they a table? Is the ammo box that the soldier utilises while on patrol to quickly scoff down his rations, a table, or is it still only an ammo box containing rocket propelled grenades? 

Phenomenalism and particularly Nominal Phenomenalism, means that the supposed evidence of our senses and particularly the dominant one of sight, actually goes through a pre-filter of language, grouping similar things together as a shorthand that may not in fact do justice to the complexity of 'reality'. And this filter of language is of course the mainstay and dominant tool of us writers. We can use it to not only describe reality, but to challenge its consensus by really examining its linguistic short-cuts. So we could and possibly should be challenging accepted reality and showing how it has been constructed. Those writers and philosophers who study signs and symbols (semiologists) do this on one level, but writers can bring it to the linguistic realm. 

Now let's come to Greek Theatre. It is absolutely entwined with politics in Ancient Greece, that politics being in the main direct participatory democracy (the military oligarchy of Sparta didn't produce much in the way of playwrights). Plays in Athens were performed during religious festivals, the rest of the time the theatres in the small administrative demes were used for political meetings of the whole community entitled to vote. Plays in these festivals were in competition and accordingly were sponsored by patrons, most of whom were professional politicians, else citizens who wanted to wield influence. Many plays debated the issues of recent or contemporary events, while comedies lambasted real prominent citizens to their faces sat there in the audience, to remind them of their place to serve the Polis rather than their own interests. The ancient Greek word for playwright has as its root 'teacher' or trainer, while the word 'Praxis' which Aristotle coined for the dramatic action, also stands for a body of practical political action.  

So Greek plays were not politically neutral and for all their show at having both sides of the debate (much like Plato's dialectic philosophical style), actually there was really only one message either the playwright, or his patron wanted to impart (just like Plato's "Republic", though his other dialectic works were more ambiguous and even handed in their conclusions). Plays were always geared to preaching to their audience and that audience were those with the vote in the democracy (so not women or slaves who were excluded from voting). The plays preached reasoned debate, when in fact they were tilting for a single point of view, with their own constructed democracy as the highest value (not an 'ideal' one in Plato's eyes, far from it as above). Those individualist citizens who weren't team players, or those with a tendency towards demagoguery, were constantly being defeated on stage.

For such men displayed 'hubris', that is the excess of pride in imagining yourself above your station within the society. Any individual citizen who wasn't a team player, was regarded as having hubris and all Tragic dramas in the Greek canon had men brought low by their hubris. Indeed even the word 'hero' which reverberates so powerfully in our own society, initially emerged from Greek theatre, not existing outside of that context beforehand. The dramatic hero is a demiurge, that is a man who sees himself superior to his fellow man, halfway to being a god and of course, such tragic heroes are felled by their hubris. The stage actors had to play both heroes and gods, an act and an appropriation involving of hubris in itself just in case any of them got ideas above their station. Hubris implicitly reinforces a 'know your place' attitude, for to flout it inevitably means personal destruction. 

The clinching point about this propagandist theatre comes from a word the Greek's themselves coined, 'catharsis'. Catharsis means a purging, initially a purification in the religious sense. But when applied to the theatre by Aristotle in "Poetics" it has a more manipulative meaning. Theatre, in line with praxis, is vicarious, the audience experience the play as brought to them by the actors. We don't know whether they were passive in the amphitheatres, or like Shakespeare's 'Pit' rowdy & interactive with the stage. But by the end of a tragedy, having seen Orestes put out his own eyes, or the abasement and cruelty visited upon "The Trojan Women", or the double suicide of the lovers to conclude "Antigone", the audience are purged of their passions through the very extremity of the emotions wrought in them by the action on stage. That is, the playwright has taken them on such a journey, they are useless for anything at the end of the play. Certainly no call to action, only the playwright's sly reinforcement of whatever particular message he was putting across and the audience too played out to resist that message. Wrung out and spent, they go home marvelling at the stagecraft, story and spectacle, confirmed in the moral teaching the playwright conveyed. 

I could go on about how the heritage from the Greeks has further hamstrung us in our modern age. That Greek philosophy's main thrust was seeking to answer the question 'what constitutes a good life?', which for Plato, in the context of a city, was living a 'Just' life. For Aristotle it was living a balanced life, avoiding excess at either end of the spectrum of behaviour. Now this may or may not be a reasonable philosophical question to consider (I would say there are more pressing ones along the line of what is man, why is he here on earth, what is he supposed to achieve in his short life?) But - and you can't necessarily blame the Greeks for this, their inquiry into goodness was hijacked and taken on by the Christian theologian-cum-philosophers, whose answer was of course faith in God and following a set of moral and behavioural commandments. Again, a rigid moral unilateralism that is today in tatters and has led to the evils of slavery, colonialism, subjection of women and our own bodies, which have only furthered the crippling issues we face today. 

So yes, I do declare, what have the Ancient Greeks done for us, except to set up the parameters by which we have navigated to our very troubling modern age? 



Friday, 2 October 2009

Flashback (No More heroes Anymore)

Flashbacks: shimmering frames, black and white footage, softer focus. Lots of readily accessible clues to tell the viewer we're in flashback mode in a film. Now consider the novel's equivalent.

Do you write the flashback in the same tone as the carefully constructed temporality it is supposed to momentarily lead you away from? If so, no matter what cues you give in the words, it tends to leach into the main story, since stylistically it is undifferentiated. If you opt for a different tone, then it takes the reader out of the 'presence' you have established through your writing up to this point. How do you thread the reader back into the flow and the tone you had established before the flashback? The seamless temporal rhythm has been disturbed, possibly fatally.


Why have flashbacks at all? Often it is to convey key psychological information that enables the reader to unlock the motivation behind certain decisions and events involving the characters. The issue is that in such cases, frequently such information is either leadenly conveyed, (the info-dump) or in order to do it justice, it takes on such a huge life of its own, that as above, the flashback undermines what has gone before it. Simply because the weight the author has given it in terms of length, cuts into the centrality of what formerly has been given centrality. An incident from childhood for example; either it can get the most cursory treatment in order to suggest the origin of a flaw that the character is fated to repeat in adulthood; or you can deal with it at length and examine it fully, so that it takes on as much importance as whatever other characterisation you had established prior to introducing the flashback. The only hitch being the flashback stuff has already happened in the past and is over, even if its legacy lives on into the time in which the action of the novel is actually taking place. The dilemma, to return to a film metaphor, is one of synchronising the two time periods into one seamless flow.

Whatever length and intricacy, flashbacks disrupt the temporality of the novel. Unless this is a formal conceit, whereby the author deliberately plays around with the temporality throughout, I see this as a predicament. If you wanted to make reference to a character's childhood and their relationship with a parent or some formative experience, you can paint it with just one sentence. I don't think you need a flashback of one or more paragraphs.


Musing on all this leads me into a wider consideration of times and temporality within the novel. Traditionally, novels take the reader on a journey through the eyes and maybe conscience of its main character, be they hero or villain. Usually the character gains insight and undergoes a change in their dealings with other characters or with the wider culture they are engaged with. This can either be a story ending with redemption of the character, or a tragic outcome, as the character realises their flaws even as they or a loved one dies. The difficulty I encounter with this conventional structuring, is that much of it is predicated on good and bad, virtuous and sinful, godly and devilish because these were the prevailing notions of humanity as treated in the arts within drama and later the novelistic form. But such moral compasses do not hold today, where the world is much more ambiguous and harder to distinguish such clearly delineated poles of behaviour. Is there even any room for a hero in today's fiction? (I am not talking about fantasy or other genres). There are protagonists and antagonists, but beneath their respective skins are there many differences between the two? Iago is clearly ineffably evil and Othello has many noble traits, only finally being brought down by his all-encompassing jealousy and the social barriers he has faced through race. However, Gordon Geko in the film "Wall Street" while being odious, is also held up as being a model capitalist entrepreneur and speculator in late twentieth century capitalism.

The journey my characters undertake is a tad different. When the reader meets them, they are already plunged into the world, our world, and immersed in all its ambiguity and lack of guiding signposts. Their journey is twin pronged, how do they come to be here, at this point in their life with all their attendant attitudes and foibles? And how do they navigate themselves from this point on, are they able to strike for any clearer waters? The journey they make moves through less temporality than within the more conventional structures. The character arc has less radical divergences, choosing not to deal in the termini of redemption or abyssal. In our current day and age, how much do people really change? I'm not saying it isn't possible to change one's habitual behaviour and the huge industry in self-help books suggests the desire to be able to change oneself is great, but we are creatures who tend to be locked into repeating the same conduct again and again. Escapist literature diverts us entertainingly away from this reality. Serious fiction seeks to address it.

Though society may cry out for heroes, we are only served up confused, flawed mortals. Be it a Michael Jackson, a venerated Afghan War hero, a blank canvas like David Beckham, a reality show contestant who overcomes dire circumstances to live out their dream. We are definitely scraping the barrel if this is all we have to show for it. If our notions of what it takes to be a hero, (and increasing acceptance of the banality and quotidian nature of monstrous villainy), then maybe our story telling has to change as well to reflect this. Rather than the personal epic scale of the hero who overcomes his shortfalls to gain redemption, or at least die trying, maybe we can just take a character head on (heroically) trying to move off his tiny spot in the world and gain some sense of his/her orientation within it.

The present is in such a state of flux, with technological breakthroughs, instant global communications, a fiendish event like 9/11, the flashback past is almost outmoded as any useful point of reference. New novels, of atomised characters trying to reach out and connect and relate, both to other people and to the world around them, might more fit our current disposition and appetites. Although I posit this as a realistic take on the world, the author is not restricted to realism in his/her approach. The destinations at the end of the novel may be more modest than our predecessors, but the stopping off points can be wildly more imaginary.

This is the journey I'm, aheaded down with my protagonists. Care to hitch a ride?