When you thought you had taken enough of desolation and sickness, Marlon Brando -Colonel Kurtz- showed up beyond the grave as the hollow man. The scene is fearsome.
Simple as I sometimes am, I reflect that the poem by T.S. Eliot -1925- was not the first exploration in the stuffed man. Indeed, Frank Baum did it before, in a marvellous and straightforward tale for children, The Wizard of Oz -1900-.
Despite the raging call of S. Sontag to avoid interpretation in art -and though I think it is a sensible advice-, I will do it this time. Upon the rescue of the Tin Woodman, he and the Scarecrow argue whether is more convenient to have a brain or a heart. The latter says: "I shall ask for brains instead of a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart if he had one"; the former says: "I shall take the heart, for brains do not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world".
What do you think? Brains or heart?
The report on illiteracy in London has yielded a number of utterances about the vital importance of reading and writing for the future of children. Crime, unhappiness, moral weakness, perversion have been related to the lack of education. I get the whole picture, but the connection is not a real fact. Perhaps, it is what we would like to believe. My mum could not study much, but she is the best in the world. Now, the motherfuckers killing dozens in streets, hotels or markets and killing themselves at the same time, come to London and other Western capitals to study and normally have high-education profiles. (I always pose the same example, I am getting exhausted from myself).
I shall prefer the heart. Further down with my unauthorized interpretation, I think Baum also did prefer to have a heart instead of brains. Later on in the story, when the party of four is considering how to overcome a profound ditch breaking deep the yellow path in two, the Scarecrow got the answer and the Lion retorts: "That is a first-rate idea. One would almost suspect you had brains in your head, instead of straw". Alas! Indeed, for I can see that common sense -the least common of all the senses- often rests far away from the brains and the thoughtful insights.
**
Any time I pass by the mummy of Jeremy Bentham in the Cloister of UCL, I get a turbulent vibe, a weird and displeasing feeling. It gives me a cold-feet sensation. I picture myself showing a visitor the image and saying "this is the mummy of the founder... I mean it is like a real mummy in a way". And I can see the eyes of the other wide opened, "what? Was he crazy?".
The story is narrated by Steve Roud. The very same year Bentham died, the Parliament passed the Anatomy Act (1832) which regularized the availability of dead bodies for surgeons and anatomists to dissect and learn from, and intended to stop the illegal snatching and trafficking. Bentham's own will was to gift a colleague and friend of his with his own body. This friend, Southwood Smith, delivered a lecture upon it while cutting into pieces the Bentham's remainings... That was the flame of utilitarians.
After it, the skeleton of the founder of UCL "was wired back together and a 'body' (was) made with straw and other materials, and dressed in Bentham's best clothes. The head proved a bit of a problem, as they could not preserve it in a presentable state, so a wax likeness was made. The original skull was at first placed within the ribcage, then in a box at his feet, and it is now in the vaults of the University College". (London Lore, Steve Roud, 2010).
**
I slid by Bentham side as I walked out from a... different, interesting talk by Yve Lomax on creative writing or, well, these concepts, propositions and thoughts she writes and pounds about. I just felt curious, it was advertised for PhD students and wanted to take a peep. Different people, different universes, different lights. The corridor of the Art History department looks as much untidy as that of Engineering, but with a feminine touch. Cans of paint, a girl in tattered jeans sewing in the middle of the hall... . I came also to reflect upon the religion of the coffee latte, of which I shall talk some other time.
(PLEASE, LEAVE YOUR COMMENT)
No comments:
Post a Comment